Rentboy

down. Fox began at once to tap the bench with his
    painted black nails.
    “It’ll be all right,” Godfrey told him. But he had no idea if it would be all right.
    “What if they’ve found Eddie already? What if they’re torturing him to get the information they
    want?”
    “Is he brave?” Godfrey asked.
    “That’s an odd question, but yeah, I’d say he is. He tried to fight my dad. He didn’t stand a
    chance, and he got his arse kicked, but he had a go.”
    Being reassuring was part of a vicar’s job, and Godfrey had years of practice behind him.
    “There you are, then.”
    “But that could have been stupidity. Eddie had no idea how dangerous my dad is or what a
    fucking psycho he is. He thinks because he’s truthful and reasonable and kind that everyone else in the
    world is the same or they can be persuaded to be.”
    “A refreshingly innocent approach to life.” Godfrey patted Fox’s knee. “I told you, God works in
    mysterious ways.”
    “Yeah, right.” With his head hanging, his hands gripping the edge of the bench so hard his
    knuckles had turned white, the boy looked so young and vulnerable that Godfrey wanted to hug him
    again, but he had been warned about such things by the bishop. Everything was misinterpreted these
    days, and he had already hugged him once. Best leave well alone.
    “I’m glad you came to me, Fox. I’ll do my best to help you and Eddie.”
    Fox looked up at him. “Thanks. I really appreciate it. I’m just so worried.”
    “If these people don’t believe us, we’ll go over to his flat next.”
    “He said he was going to Paris to meet his parents, but I think he was trying to throw me off.
    Knowing Eddie, he went home to the family farm.” As if resolved, Fox stood. “I can’t wait any
    longer, God. You stay here and tell them everything, and I’ll go and see if I can find him. He might
    still be there. If he is, I’ll phone you and tell you where to find us. We’ll need to hide him somewhere.
    Give me your mobile number.”
    “Hold on.” Godfrey pulled out his phone. He had always been hopeless at numbers, so he had
    written the number down and taped it onto the back of his phone. “There you are.”
    Fox smiled as he punched it into his phone. “That’s a good idea to help you remember. I have to
    do stuff like that for the twins. I used to draw pictures; then at some point I realized they could read.
    God knows how they learned.”
    Godfrey stood to walk to the door with Fox. “Good luck, and be careful.” With a firm hand he
    gripped the young man’s shoulder and was pleasantly surprised when Fox gave him a quick hug.
    “You’re the only person I can trust, and I don’t even know you.”
    Fox’s words made him brim with happiness. “Gemma can’t have children. She had leukemia
    when she was very young. It was the radiation. I’d be proud of a son like you, Fox.”
    For a long moment Fox just stared at him as if he could not believe the words. “Looking like
    this? Gay, weird, makeup. You don’t know half the shit I do.”
    Very quietly Godfrey said, “I know you cut yourself.” He hadn’t actually seen the scars, but the
    long sleeves and the general outlook of the young man told him what he had seen before so many
    times when he had counseled youth.
    Fox looked down as if ashamed, which was the last thing Godfrey wanted him to feel. “There
    are better ways to deal with pain. When all this is over, we’ll talk more about it, if you’ll allow me
    the privilege of helping you.”
    “You are one of a fucking kind, mate.” Fox kissed him on the cheek and left.
    An hour passed and then another while Godfrey sat, paced, and sat again. After trying to phone
    Gemma and getting no signal, he stepped outside. He was in Starbucks with Fox, he told her. It was
    all right to lie sometimes if it helped someone and hurt no one, but he’d better lay off the cakes since
    Gemma was being so good about their diet.
    Two and a half hours later his musings had drifted in several different directions, including that
    the whole thing was a ruse and he would be made to look utterly ridiculous. But surely the attempted
    kidnapping was real. He’d observed that with his own eyes. If he looked a fool after this, then so be
    it. The one thing he knew for certain was that he had to do something.
    The main doors opened, and a man in a tuxedo hurried toward him. “Reverend Godfrey Rooke?”
    “Yes.” Godfrey shook hands with the man. “You were out for