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always in extremely well-tailored
    apparel.
    “Yes, but they get their nails done.” He shuddered.
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    Kael had almost put his white dress shirt on over the necklace and at the last
    minute had put it on the outside, hanging just below his bow tie. “It was Angel’s
    Christmas present to me. He’s happy when I wear it.”
    “You’ll miss him when he’s away at university.”
    For months Kael had been consumed with thoughts of how lonely he would be
    when Angel was no longer at home full-time. But he wanted his boy to have every
    opportunity. “It’s for the best.”
    With his hand on the door handle, Conran said, “I’d better go and kiss Portia.”
    “Do you really love your wife?” Kael could not imagine anyone loving that
    snobbish, horse-faced woman.
    “Yes, we’re also perfectly suited.” Conran preceded Kael into the hall.
    Standing at the open double doors of the drawing room, Portia Conran waved at
    her husband. “Where have you been, Stephen?” She always sounded as if she was
    nagging him.
    “Happy New Year, darling.” Conran took her into his arms and gave her a brief
    kiss.
    “Happy New Year, Mrs. Conran,” Kael said.
    “Mr. Saunders, are you enjoying yourself?” She had been shocked when she found
    out he was gay. The obvious sexual interest she once had in him had fled. “And
    your”—she sought the right word—“partner? Is that the word you use?”
    “Yes.” Kael always felt the urge to say something cutting to the woman, but he
    held himself back masterfully. “Partner is fine. And I think he’s having fun, Mrs.
    Conran. He looks as if he is.”
    “Call me Portia, Mr. Saunders.”
    “Call me Kael, Portia.”
    “That is a very odd name.” She squinted at him. “It’s a type of cabbage, did you
    know?”
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    Conran grabbed his wife by the arm, all but dragging her away. Sorry, sorry , he
    mouthed over his shoulder at Kael. Boys at College Grange had got punched in the face
    for that remark.
    Kael followed them into the drawing room to find Angel.

    * * * *
    “Daddy, did anyone ever pick on you in school?” Angel got quietly into bed

    beside Kael and snuggled into his side as he always did. After the party, they had
    walked the thirty minutes or so from Holland Park to home through the cool evening
    air, sobering up as they went. But they were both tired now.
    “No, they never dared.”
    “Did you ever bully anyone?”
    Thinking carefully before he answered, Kael said, “If anyone tried it on with me, I
    made them wish they hadn’t. If you were to ask the boys who knew me at school, they
    might have called me a bully, but by my definition a bully goes after someone he thinks
    is weaker than him or can’t fight back, and I never did that. I only went after the ones
    who went after me first.” Angel ran his hand over Kael’s hard, hairless chest, making
    his nipples tighten. “Hang on. Has someone been picking on you at college?”
    When Angel didn’t answer at once, Kael knew something had happened. “Yeah.
    This big, overweight kid, Aubrey Carey-Fox. He started at Redmond last September to
    do his A levels, and he’s in two of my classes. You know Jack’s not at Redmond now?
    He did his As last year and now he’s doing a gap year.”
    “Yes, but you’ve got other friends, haven’t you?”
    “Yes, sir. I’ve got lots of friends.”
    “So what’s the fat boy up to?”
    Angel sighed. “He calls me ‘the little queer’ and makes fun of my accent, you
    know, imitating me all the time.” Angel was the only American at the exclusive,
    independent sixth-form college he attended to get his university entrance requirements.
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    “I could call him names. There’s lots of scope there. But I don’t. He’s seen you drop me
    off at school a few times, and he thinks it’s hilarious to say, ‘Who’s the scary, bald
    bloke?’”
    “What do you