Rentboy

you.”
    “Yes, good thinking. I’ll tell your mother when we have a quiet moment. The best thing to do
    with Nicoletta is to ignore her when she does things like this. Don’t react. That’s what she wants.”
    The farmhouse was dark and cool when they stepped inside. “Compared to the scrape I’ve got
    myself into, a shaved head doesn’t seem like much, does it?”
    Annika came out of the kitchen wearing her apron and carrying a wooden spoon as if it were a
    weapon. “There you both are. You’re not going to shave your head, are you, Edward? Is that what I
    heard? I thought Nik would be more likely to do something as irritating as that. Will you be staying
    for dinner, darling?”
    Edward and his father exchanged smiles. “I can’t, Mum, sorry. I need to start driving back.”

    * * * *
    “Iced soy chai tea latte, please.”

    “Coming right up.” Fox smiled at the attractive middle-aged woman, deciding to ignore the
    miniature poodle she had hiding in her large Louis Vuitton bag. She must have seen him eyeing it,
    because after he served her and did not ask her to go outside on the patio, which was nothing more
    than a railed-in area on the noisy street, she popped a two-pound coin on the counter by way of a tip.
    Fox tossed it in the tip jar.
    Sliding in beside him, the other server said, “Nice MILF! What d’ y’ reckon?”
    Fox wasn’t at all keen on Aubrey. In fact, he would love to get him fired. He was a stupid,
    overweight rich kid whose dad had got fed up with him and ordered him to get a job if he was to
    remain living at home over the summer. Now Fox had to put up with him every time he went to his
    part-time job at Starbucks. “What’s a milf?”
    “MILF. Mother I’d like to fuck.” Aubrey grinned.
    “You’ve got chocolate on your face, mate, and you could use a wash.” It got very warm in the
    Starbucks on hot days, and for all his money, Aubrey was in the habit of neglecting to use deodorant.
    “And I’m gay, remember.”
    “What about a FILF.” Aubrey laughed hysterically.
    “If that means father, the last thing on earth I’d like to fuck is anybody’s father. Thanks.”
    Aubrey towered over Fox and was at least three times as wide. “So what do queers do? I mean,
    does one of you pretend to be a girl? There was a queer at my school, blond boy with a pretty face.
    Couldn’t stand the little fuck.” He looked intently at Fox. “Do you do the nasty, you and other dudes?”
    He screamed with laughter again.
    More to get away from Aubrey than because the tables needed cleaning, Fox took a cloth from
    the sink and a spray bottle of disinfectant. The MILF was feeding little dog treats into her bag. She
    looked guiltily at Fox when he wiped her table. “Don’t worry about it,” he told her quietly.
    “Why is that fat boy behind the counter grinning at me?” she asked.
    “He’s a bit special ed,” Fox said. “He lives in sheltered housing.”
    “Oh, the poor thing.”
    Behind him a vaguely familiar voice said, “I thought that was you.”
    Fox turned to look into the smiling face of the vicar from the tea wagon. “I saw you through the
    window. I’m so glad you’ve got a proper job. I was worrying about you.”
    Fox had never spoken to the man other than that one time outside St. Pancras, yet he felt oddly
    happy to see him, perhaps because of some tenuous connection to Eddie. He looked at the clerical
    collar, then up into the man’s gentle eyes. The bloke was maybe late thirties, but there was a
    youthfulness about him that made him seem younger. He was chubby too, making his face round but in
    a nice way, not like Aubrey who looked like a bulldog. “Sit down; I’ll bring you a coffee.” He led the
    man to a table and pulled out the chair for him. “Any preferences?”
    “Americano with milk, please.”
    “You got it.”
    “Who’s the priest?” Aubrey said when Fox joined him behind the counter to pour a coffee from
    the piping hot pot. “Didn’t know you were religious.”
    “Art is my religion.” Fox poured milk into the coffee and placed a chocolate finger on the
    saucer. “The MILF said she fancies you. Go and chat to her.” He joined the vicar at a table while
    Aubrey wandered over to the customer.
    The vicar pulled a leather change purse from his trouser pocket. “Oh, thank you. How much?”
    “The last one was on you. This one’s on me.”
    “The tea wagon is part of my ministry,” the vicar said. “But thank you.” He tucked