‘So, did he ask you to be his friend?’

‘What?’

‘You heard me.’

‘So what if he did?’

‘I know he did.’

Matthew was trying to download a song. Christian was sitting on the bed behind him, and fiddling with his phone.

‘So what did you say?’

‘What?’

‘Are you going to be his friend again?’

‘What is wrong with this thing?’

‘I know what you said. You said, “Yeah. Sure. Why not?”’

‘Sounds like me.’

‘Oh, I know it was you.’

‘Do you know why it does this? Why it won’t search sometimes? It just says it’s starting up and then doesn’t do it.’

‘You don’t think that’s a rather strange thing for one eighteen year old to be asking another: “Do you want to be my friend?”’

‘Not really. No. I don’t suppose so. Not when you’ve put him up to it.’

‘Is that what he said?’

Matthew turned around.

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ he said.

‘Taking photos of the back of your head.’

‘No. What the fuck are you doing with Lukas?’

‘Playing a game. Testing him. Seeing what I can get him to do.’

‘And that means telling him to ring me, getting him to ask me out, getting him to be my friend. You don’t think you might have asked me first?’

‘Well, I did ask you. I told you I’d get him to ring you.’

‘Yeah. Right. And you did that by controlling his mind.’

‘Like I told you.’

‘Really?’

‘Of course,’ Christian said, lifting his chin up and drawing the words out. ‘And now you’re going to try it. That was the deal, right?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘How not so?’

‘Because you’re speaking a pack of stupid, fucking, bullshit.’

‘I see. You need proof.’

Christian lay back on the bed and put his hands behind his head. Blue eyes flashed in a dark face, like diamonds, reflecting light.

‘You know, he really likes you Matty.’

‘Does he?’

‘Yes, you you’d be surprised how much he likes you. He’s quite a sick little boy, little Lukas.’

#

Lukas rang again the following day, wanting to know if Matthew wouldn’t want to come over. Matthew said sure, fine, how about Thursday? Lukas couldn’t do anything on Thursday, because his father had a book launch in the city. Would Friday be okay?

It was. And they agreed to meet at Lukas’ house, and go afterwards to the lake.

Matthew had been promised a car for his birthday, a Mini, though that hadn’t happened. He would get the car, his father said, as soon as he could learn to drive responsibly. There had been a mishap with the Mercedes. Matthew had scraped it along the garage wall, and at it was, the best he could do was to offer Lukas a couple of hours out in the boat, a sloop, which his grandmother had given him when he turned sixteen. Lukas had never seen it.

Matthew’s mother drove him to Lukas’ house, staying out of her alcoholic haze long enough to make a decent job of it. She was going to pick Ginny up from school, she said, and take her to ballet. A minor miracle.

Turning into the drive at Lukas’, Matthew was overcome by the sudden familiarity of the place. It was years since he had been there, the last time maybe when he was thirteen, for Lukas’ birthday, something his mother had made him attend. The house was like something from a European fairytale. As a child, Matthew had thought of it as a castle, and found it strange that it was all for Lukas and his father, since Lukas’ mother was dead.

The housekeeper, Mrs McCady, opened the door to him.

Lukas was coming down the stairs. He was wearing a white T-shirt with red lettering and a pair of jeans, though he was walking awkwardly, as though every step was a chore.

‘Hey,’ Lukas said, smiling.

‘Hey.’

It was lunchtime, and there was lunch spread out for them in the dining room, far more than either of them could eat.

‘Do you want to go out the back?’ Lukas said.

Matthew shrugged his assent, and they piled their plates high with food before walking out into the sunshine and sitting by the pond.

In the middle there was a fountain, a lady pouring water out of an urn, carved in marble and robed in white.

‘Did you see that?’ Lukas said, nodding with his head, his mouth half full of food.

Matthew turned around. Behind him, near the house, was the statue of the discus thrower he and Lukas had made, standing in the sunshine. He had his body extended and one hand held back, the other just letting go of the discus, so that it was only attached to his hand by his middle finger.

They had cast it in fibreglass, but glaring white in the sunshine, it looked like solid marble. Matthew frowned, and then swallowed as he stared at the groin. It was months since he had seen the thing. And he wasn’t sure, now that he looked at it, that it wouldn’t have been better with the genitals. It seemed sexy somehow, without them, even though it was a man.

Matthew supposed the statue was supposed to be the perfection of man, as Lukas had claimed. His body was grace and strength, a collection of curves, muscles, bones and sinews. Reflected in the French window, Matthew could see the guy’s arse, though he supposed guys’ arses didn’t really look like that. It seemed too full and firm somehow. Too perfect.

The surprising thing, though, was the missing genitals. Matthew felt something start in his groin. He turned away.

‘Wow! It looks pretty good,’ he said.

‘Yeah, my dad was pretty impressed.’

‘Seems like it. Putting it in his garden.’

‘The only thing he said was, “Why’s he a eunuch?”’

‘A eunuch?’

‘It means he’s castrated. He hasn’t got any dick or balls. My dad says there was this Persian prince who used to do that to his slaves, not just cut off their balls but cut off their dicks as well. Mostly it means they just cut off a guy’s balls. But this guy used to do the whole lot and a lot of the slaves died because of it.’

‘Really?’

‘Blood loss, Dad said, and infection.’

‘He looks okay, though,’ Matthew said, turning back to look at it again. ‘He looks happy about it!’

‘You think so?’

‘He’s showing it off for all the world to see.’

‘Yeah. How would it be if that was you?’

‘Fuck no,’ Matthew said, pressing the side of his hand into his groin. ‘Rather you than me.’

Lukas swallowed.

#

They caught a taxi to the marina, and when they were out on the boat, Lukas came up to Matthew and handed him a key.

‘What’s this?’ Matthew said.

‘It’s a key.’

‘Yeah. But what’s it for?’

‘You don’t know?’

Matthew shook his head.

‘I’m supposed to give it to you.’

‘What?’

‘It’s yours, to do what you want with.’

Matthew frowned. ‘Is it any use?’ he said.

‘Sure it is,’ Lukas said. ‘It opens a lock.’

‘What’s it open a lock to?’

‘That’s what I’m not supposed to tell you.’

‘Did Christian put you up to this?’

Lukas frowned. ‘Christian? No.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Sure I’m sure.’ Lukas winced. He looked like he was in pain. ‘It’s like a mystery, and you have to solve it.’

Matthew wondered for the first time if Christian really wasn’t fucking with the guy’s head in some way.

‘Have you seen Christian?’

‘Not since school finished. Why?’

‘He hasn’t rung you.’

‘No. It’s not about Christian,’ Lukas said. ‘It’s got nothing to do with him.’

Matthew looked at the key. He turned it over in his hand, keeping his other hand on the tiller. The key was small, too small to be of any use, he thought. It maybe opened a box, or a desk draw. It certainly wouldn’t open a door.

‘What’s it for?’

‘That’s what you have to work out.’

‘Can I ask you questions?’

‘If you want.’

‘Can I throw it overboard?’

Lukas swallowed. ‘If you want.’

‘Do you want me to do that?’

‘Kind of,’ he said.

‘You kind of do, but you kind of don’t.’

‘Yeah.’ Lukas smiled again, like he was happier this time. The sun was shining, and the wind peeling his hair over his head. He had a spray jacket on, a red one, and once again Matthew decided that his friend was pretty, not handsome. If he was a girl, Matthew might have liked him like that, but Matthew didn’t know any girls. The problem with spending eleven years at an all boys’ school.

He smiled back at Lukas, kept one hand on the tiller and pegged the key, or pretended to. Lukas followed the line of flight with his eyes while Matthew quickly pocketed the key.

‘There,’ Matthew said. ‘Problem solved.’

‘Oh fuck,’ Lukas said.

Later that afternoon, as they were coming back into the marina, Lukas was sick over the side.