Finding Nico

by c m

Chapter 11

I wake up at about 8. Josh is still sound asleep beside me. I need a pee and make my way to the bathroom. I realise I've got the dried residues of our lovemaking all over my groin, stomach and chest. I take a shower. And afterwards, I decide to give the bidet thing a go. It's an interesting experience – and I definitely end up clean. It's a whole lot easier than using the shower was at my house.

Back in the bedroom, Josh is still out for the count. I look out of the window. Weak sunlight is doing its best to poke through the clouds. I'm torn between going back to bed and going out to the bakery. It would be nice to do something to repay my hosts' kindness. I get dressed and slip quietly downstairs. I put on my jacket and check that my wallet is in the inside pocket. The front door is locked and I'm not sure where the key is, but the backdoor key is in the lock. I go out of the backdoor, taking the key with me.

Ten minutes later I'm at the bakery, and five minutes after that I'm on my way back. As well as the croissants and baguettes, I've bought some pains au chocolat that seemed too good to miss. My phone rings. It's Josh.

'NICO! Where the fuck are you? Are you OK?'

'I'm, fine Josh. Just on my way back from the bakery.'

'The bakery? Oh…OK…God, I woke up and you weren't here. I thought something had happened to you or you'd decided to go home or something…I was so worried.'

'Go home? Why would I do that?'

'I dunno…I just thought…it's just…I love you, Nico and I didn't know where you were and…sorry…'

'Don't be sorry; it's lovely that you were concerned. I should have left a note. I'll be back in about five minutes.'

'OK…love you.'

'Love you too.'

When I get back, Josh is waiting at the front door dressed in a towelling robe. He goes to fling his arms round me.

'Woah...careful…croissants…let me just put these down in the kitchen.'

I unload my various purchases and then turn to face Josh. He hugs me to him.

'Sorry I was so stupid, Nico.'

I kiss him.

'It wasn't stupid. My fault for not letting you know where I was.'

'Can we go back to bed?'

'Sure.'

Back in the bedroom, I strip off and slide back under the covers with him.

'You smell nice,' he says.

'I had a shower earlier. I was a bit…crusty…'

Josh giggles.

'I guess I am too. Hold on...let me go shower as well. Won't be a mo.'

He's back in less than five minutes, his hair is still wet as he hops into bed and pulls me to him.

'I used the bidet thing too,' I say, 'it worked a treat.'

'So you're all….?'

'Yup.'

'Do you want to…?'

'If you've got some gel.'

'Please don't think this is all premeditated, but I did buy some a week or so ago…just in case.'

'Go for it.'

He does. And this time his finger slides inside me without any trouble. And it feels good. He touches something inside me that gives me a buzz.

'Want to try two, Josh?'

'OK.'

I feel stretched as he does so – but no more than that. I tell him it feels OK.

'Wow. I want to try; can you give me a couple of minutes?'

'Why don't we leave that for tonight? Right now I need you to finish what you've started.'

I roll over. What Josh has been doing has made me hard as a rock.

'Hand or mouth?' he asks.

'Hand. I want to kiss you while you're…busy.'

His lips close against mine as he takes hold of me. I instinctively take hold of him as well. And we end up needing another quick shower.


By the time we're dressed and downstairs, it's nearly a quarter to ten and Josh's parents are already sitting at the table.

'Thank you both so much for going to the bakery,' Tamara says.

'It was Nico; I was still asleep.'

'Then thank you very much, Nick. You must let us know what we owe you.'

'Oh, nothing. It's the least I can do to say thank you.'

'Hmm...well…we'll see about that, but I've just popped the croissants and pains au chocolat back in the oven to warm through. Have some baguette while we're waiting. And help yourself to orange juice, or coffee, or both.'

There's a choice of strawberry or peach jams, as well as marmalade. I choose the peach jam. The baguettes are delicious. I pour myself a glass of juice.

'What time do you need to be at the foodbank, Josh?' asks his father.

'2 should be fine...a few minutes before maybe.'

'OK, I'll drop you both down there. How about getting back?'

'I expect Rupert will give us a lift back.'

'OK. Well, let me know if he can't.'

Tamara removes the pastries from the oven and brings them over. They look great and smell great – and they taste great too. Josh and I make short work of most of them.

'Good to see you boys have an appetite., and thanks again for getting them for us, Nick. Maybe next time you could be awake and go with him, Josh?'

'He should have woken me up. It's his fault I was so tired in the first pl…'

His voice trails off as he realises what he's about to say.

'Yes, it was my fault for making him stay up late last night watching TV,' I say.

'Ah, right…' says Henry, exchanging a glance with Tamara, 'well I expect you'll both be pretty tired this evening after an afternoon stacking shelves at the food bank. And incidentally, Nick, thank you for offering your help, it's very kind of you.'

'Well, it's like Josh says, we're pretty well off and pretty privileged and most people aren't so it's good to try and help.'

'Yes, it's good….and important. What we really need, of course, is a world where foodbanks aren't necessary, but in the meantime….'


Shortly after half-past one, Josh and I get into his father's Range Rover and he drives us to the foodbank which is some fifteen minutes away in Bedminster, a slightly run-down area of the city. The foodbank isn't far from a big Asda store.

'One of the things we do on Saturdays,' says Josh, 'is unpack and stack the stuff Asda deliver. It's mostly cans and packets that are getting close to their 'best before' dates, or the contents of the collection containers that shoppers have contributed.'

The foodbank is situated down a side-street. Josh takes me through a side door into a large store-room that has rows of steel shelves as well as an open area in which wooden pallets and a variety of cardboard collection bins are sitting. A tall man with a beard, aged maybe thirty, comes over.

'Hi Josh, thanks so much for coming. We've got some regulars away on half-term so we're a bit short-handed.'

'That's OK, Rupe. Can I introduce my boyfriend Nick who's also offered to help. He's come down to stay for me for a few days.'

Boyfriend. I mean, I know that's what we are - but to hear him say it…

'Hi, Nick. That's wonderful of you. You two must have much better things to do than this.'

'Not really. We get to do something useful – and I get to spend time with Josh doing it.'

'Well, you're most welcome. There's a lot to do today, so another pair of hands will be really helpful. You know the drill, Josh, so I'll leave you to it.'

Josh takes me over to where the pallets and boxes are. There are three other people already there. A lad who I put in his twenties, a woman who must be in her forties and an older man. They all give Josh a wave.

'And who's your friend?' asks the woman.

'This is Nick. He's staying with me for a few days.'

'Hi Nick, welcome to the madhouse.'

'Just tell me what to do and point me in the right direction,' I say.

The older man speaks up.

'Josh, why don't you and Nick make a start on that end pallet. You know where the various things go.'

'Will do. Over here, Nico,'

We take the covering off the pallet, which is stacked with boxes of a whole variety of items. A case of chopped tomatoes. Another of kidney beans. Boxes of rice and pasta. Cereals. Bags of sugar. Boxes of teabags. Jars of coffee.

'OK, Nico. These all have to go on their correct places on the shelves. Makes filling the boxes a whole lot easier.'

'Right…let's get started.'

It's hard work. Not the individual items but the repetition. And it's surprising how much walking is involved in taking some things to one end of one row of shelves and other things to the opposite end of another. But after two hours, we've cleared two of the pallets.

'Well done, lads, says Rupert. Take a break. There's coffee in the office.'

We make our way to a small room with a kettle and a fridge in it. Rupert joins us.

'So how long have you two been boyfriends, Josh?' he asks.

'Couple of months. We met on holiday.'

'How wonderful. Where do you live, Nick?'

'Oxford.'

'Gosh. I see. A long-distance relationship then.'

'Kind of.'

'But it's working OK?'

'So far.'

Josh and I smile at one another.

'You work at a foodbank in Oxford, Nick?'

'No. This is my first experience of one. Who uses it...if that's not a stupid question.'

'Not a stupid question at all. You'd be surprised. We get all sorts. The pandemic has made some people who would never have dreamed of having to use a foodbank a year ago into regular customers. The system is that people get a voucher – could be from a doctor or a social worker or a community adviser or a health visitor or even the police – which they bring here and exchange for a weekly food parcel that meets their needs…whether they're singles, couples or a family. Most of them are on benefits – but there are some who don't qualify for benefits who still can't afford food. Some need help for a few weeks or months – others are long-term. We get pensioners, young families, middle-aged couples; white, black, brown, asian…there's no 'type' as such except that they are all experiencing poverty of some sort. Josh will tell you – he's been here when we've been putting the parcels together out of our stocks. The recent cut in Universal Credit will make things worse, I'm afraid. In the last three months, this foodbank alone – and there are several in the city – has fed nearly two thousand people.'

'I had no idea.'

'Most people don't. So thank you for coming. Are you OK with cracking on with the collection bins once you've finished your coffee?'

'Sure, Rupert.'

'Great.'

As we go back to start work again, I ask Josh what goes into a typical foodbox. He takes me over to a table where there's a laminated list. It reads:

Cereal. Soup. Pasta and/or Rice. Tinned tomatoes and/or pasta sauce. Lentils,

beans or pulses. Tinned meat. Tinned vegetables. Tea/coffee. Sugar. Tinned fruit.

Biscuits. UHT milk. Fruit juice. Shower gel. Shampoo. Toiletries. Detergent. Loo paper.

'When someone comes in, depending on how many people the box is for, we put together a mix of all of these – or the ones we have in stock. If anyone has special needs – or allergies – that's usually detailed on their voucher and we can mix and match accordingly. '

'So you do them all individually?'

'Pretty much – you can never be sure who's coming through the door next.'

We make our way back over to the goods-in area. The lady in her forties has already made a start and looks up as we arrive.

'I understand that this young man's your boyfriend, Josh.'

'He certainly is.'

'Well,' she says, turning to me,' I've told Josh this, but now I'm telling you. I never used to have much time for homosexuals, but I don't care whether you're gay, straight or purple-spotted with pink stripes, if you give up your time to do this, you're OK by me. And if you're with this one,' she points a thumb at Josh, 'then he's a keeper. You look after him.'

'Thanks, Gillian,' says Josh.

She walks away with a box of tomatoes to put on a shelf.

'Like quite a few of the people who work here, Gillian's a committed churchgoer,' says Josh. 'Some – most – are fine with me being gay, a handful aren't – but Gillian is one of the few who's actually changed her mind.'

'So everyone knows you're gay?'

'Yes. I didn't announce it or anything, but I've never hidden it. You know, if someone asks if I've got a girlfriend, I tell them the truth. But I've never been here with a boyfriend before – because I've never had one before.'

'I'd happily come and help you here anytime.'

'That's kind of you…maybe you could come down and stay for a week or two in the holidays and you could come here on a weekday and see just who uses this place.'

'Or I could come next week while I'm here.'

'Would you like to? I mean it's kind, but we don't have a lot of time together….'

'What's three hours? And I'll be with you – which is all I want. And even WE can't have sex all day.'

He grins.

'I suppose. OK, we'll run it past Rupert later.'

An hour later, the area is clear.

'Good work, Nico. I think we're done for today. Come on, let's get cleaned up.'

He shows me to a small cloakroom where we wash our hands. As I'm bending over the sink, he kisses me on the neck.

'Thanks for coming with me…you've been brilliant.'

'It's been really enjoyable, actually. It's good to feel that you've done something useful.'

He slips his arms around my waist.

'The more I discover about you, the more I love you.'

'Likewise,' I say.

I splash some water on my face, and dry my hands on the roll of paper towels.

Rupert is waiting for us outside the door.

'Do you boys need a lift home?'

'That would be great, Rupe and…would we be of any use on Tuesday?'

'Well, of course, but coming here today has been more than I could possibly ask you to give up of the limited time you have with Nick.'

'It was his suggestion, actually.'

'Well, if you're sure. It would be great. As close to 10.30 as you can make it – but anytime before 12 would be a help.'

'OK. We'll be here.'

'Right, I just need to lock up and then we can make a move.'

Josh and I make our way outside, where Josh leads me over to a somewhat elderly and battered Peugeot.

'This is Rupert's?'

'Yes. Bit of a change from what our folks drive, isn't it? Rupert's a social worker so he doesn't earn much...way too little if you ask me…so this is all he can afford.'

Rupert emerges and comes over.

'Sorry it's nothing more stylish, but hop in anyway.'

I tell Josh to get in the front beside Rupert and I climb into the back. The car may be old, but it's beautifully clean and well-kept inside.

'It's not my place to say so,' says Rupert as we make our way back across the city, 'but it was lovely to see you two working together. You're obviously very fond of each other.'

'Yeah…we just seem to…fit together,' says Josh.

'Well long may it last. And thank you again for helping.'

He drops us outside Josh's house. 'See you Tuesday, then. If you change your minds, I'd understand perfectly...just let me know.'

'Will do.'

Back inside the house, Josh's Mum is waiting for us.

'All go well?'

'Just fine, Mum…Nico was brilliant.'

'I'm sure he was. Now. Your father wondered if after all those exertions you might both have some achy muscles. He put the sauna on about an hour ago if you'd like to use it. If not, just pop out and turn it off.'

Josh looks at me inquiringly.

'Sounds good to me, Josh.'

'OK. Thanks, Mum. We'll go and get ready.'

We go up to his room and strip off. Josh gives me a towelling robe to wear and takes a couple of colourful towels out of the airing cupboard on the landing.

'These are to sit on…otherwise you end up with pretty unattractive stripes from the slats in the sauna on your bum and thighs.'

He leads the way outside and into the wooden hut. The outer room is already pleasantly warm, and we hang our robes up on a row of hooks outside the entrance to the sauna itself. When Josh opens the door, a wave of heat hits me. The room is big enough for six, I reckon. There's are two slatted benches facing each other, with a brazier sort of thing – containing what look like rocks – between them at the back of the room. There's a bucket of water with a wooden type of ladle in it on the floor beside the brazier. A temperature dial on the wall reads 70C.

'OK, Nico, we need to get used to the temperature and then we can add water to the rocks and also slowly raise the heat to, well, 90 is the maximum I think, but we don't have to get it that hot unless you want to.'

Josh folds up his towel and sits on it. I do likewise and sit on the opposite bench, facing him. I can already feel the sweat prickling all over my skin. After five minutes I can feel it trickling down my spine.

'OK… let's add some water…be ready, it gives a quick blast of very hot steam.'

Josh ladles some water over the rocks which hiss – and the blast of steam it produces takes me by surprise. I can feel the heat and the moisture at the back of my throat.

'Wow…'

Josh also adjusts the temperature to 80. The sweat starts to run off me – and I can see it dripping off Josh's nose.

'How long do you usually sit in here?'

'They reckon fifteen to twenty minutes is the right length of time – you don't want to get too dehydrated. Are you enjoying it?'

'Yes. It's very relaxing.'

Josh keeps an eye on the clock and after another ten minutes or so, he says, 'OK, Nico, I reckon I'm done. Ready for the plunge pool?'

'Ready as I'll ever be.'

'OK...come on...last one in's a sissy.'

We pick up our towels, close the sauna door behind us, and both jump into the plunge pool together. The tub is about six feet in diameter and maybe five feet deep. It has wooden steps leading up to the top of it.

The shock is intense – enough to take my breath away – but instantly refreshing.

'FUCK!' we both say together as we surface.

It's not a place to linger and we jump out and grab our towels. After a speedy rub-down, we quickly put our robes back on.

Josh smiles at me. 'Good?'

'Brilliant…though now I know what the plunge is like, I think I'm going to have to screw up my nerves to do it again.'

'I know! But how does it feel now?'

'My skin's all…tingly…it feels great actually.'

'Same here. So up for this again on Monday with Duggie?'

'Definitely.'

'Cool. OK. Let's go and something to drink – I'm thirsty.'

Josh turns the sauna off, and we make our way back indoors.

All I want is some water, but Josh chooses a can of Coke. While we're drinking, Josh's father comes into the kitchen.

'Enjoy the sauna, Nick?'

'Very much, thanks.'

'Good. Josh, did you turn everything off?'

'Yes, Dad.'

'OK…I was thinking that perhaps we'd go out to eat tonight – give your Mum a night off, Josh. Would Italian suit you, Nick?'

'Perfect. One of my favourites.'

'Good. I've booked a table at Luigi's for 7.30; we can walk there to save using the car – and that also means that I can have a drink!'

'Sounds great, Dad. Thanks.'

'OK. See you down here in an hour.'

Josh and I go back up to his room.

'You'll love Luigi's, Nico…it's close to where we bought the tomatoes yesterday. Family-run place with great food. So, what do you want to do for an hour?'

'Would a cuddle on the bed be too boring?'

'Hardly. In fact you read my mind.'

We take off the bathrobes and lie, naked, beside one another on the bed. I pull Josh close so that his head's on my shoulder; he throws one arm across my chest. I run my fingers slowly up and down his back, feeling the soft flesh contrasting with the ridge of hard vertebrae down the middle. Josh is gently running one finger round and round the ring of dark flesh that surrounds my nipple. He moves one thigh on top of mine. I can feel the silky smoothness of his cock against my leg. His hand drifts down to my groin.

'I don't suppose…?'

'Mmm…yes please, Josh.'


We're downstairs at 7.15, where Henry and Tamara are already waiting for us. We're inside the restaurant less than fifteen minutes later. The atmosphere is warm and convivial, although the tables are spaced a little further apart than they would have been before the pandemic. The Brimacombes are obviously regulars as Luigi greets them like old friends.

'Signor, signora…how lovely to see you…and your son too.'

'Hi Luigi – nice to be back, and may we introduce Josh's friend Nick?'

'Benvenuto…a pleasure to welcome you too,' he says to me.

'I've reserved your usual table…now, let me get you a welcome drink on the house. A glass of white wine, perhaps? I have a lovely little Grecchetto from my home town that I think you might like…'

'Thank you…sounds good to me, Luigi,' says Henry.

'And for the young gentlemen too?'

'Yes please,' says Josh.

I nod. Always good to try something new.

The wine arrives, along with the menus and a selection of bread, breadsticks, olives, and a dip made of olive oil and balsamic vinegar. I take a cautious sip of my wine. I usually find white wine a little acidic, but this is a very pleasant surprise indeed. It's fresh, but has a background taste that reminds me of peaches and apricots.

'This is lovely,' I say.

'I'm pleased you're enjoying it. If Luigi recommends something, it's usually very reliable. Now, what does everyone want to eat?'

The menu is quite extensive, but there's also a board with 'specials' on it. I ask Josh what he's going to have.

'I've had the carpaccio of beef before, which I loved, so I think I'll have that to start, and then veal, I think... although there are quite a few different veal dishes on the menu, and I'm not sure which one to go for.'

'There's a 'scallopina al limone' on the specials board which is what I'm going to go for. Thin slices of veal in a lemon sauce.'

'Oh, I hadn't seen that. Good shout. I'll have that too. What are you going to have to start?'

'I like the look of the 'Gamberi all'aglio', the prawns in garlic butter, that's also on the specials board.'

'Very nice.'

Luigi comes over to take our orders. There's a litany of 'Excellent…good choice…very nice...' as each of us says what we want.

'And some wine, Mr. Brimacombe?'

'The white was delicious so another bottle of that I think, and can I leave the choice of red to you?'

'Of course…I have something a little special I think would complement the food.'

Our starters arrive about fifteen minutes later. I try a piece of Josh's carpaccio and he has one of my prawns. They're both excellent. The mains follow and are every bit as good, as is the red wine that Luigi has selected, and then, after a pause to let everything go down, the ornate dessert trolley is wheeled over. Luigi runs through what's on offer.

'We have Zuppa Inglese, panna cotta, lemon tart, some fresh raspberries, bomboloni and of course tiramisu. The tiramisu is particularly good – my mother's recipe. We also have a zabaglione that will take about ten minutes to prepare if you would like, or affogato…that's espresso coffee with vanilla ice cream...hot and cold together, very delicious… and of course wonderful ice creams.'

Josh goes for tiramisu and I opt for the affogato.

'The affogato is even more special with a little Vecchia Romagna in it….?' Luigi says, looking at me.

'Vecchia Romagna?'

'Is Italian brandy…'

'Go on, Nick,' says Henry, 'give it a go.'

'OK,' I say.

'Very good…you won't regret it.'

While my affogato is being prepared, I try Josh's tiramisu. It's spectacularly good. My affogato, though, is even better. Two scoops of proper Italian vanilla ice-cream arrive. Luigi pours a measure of amber-coloured brandy from a bottle over them and then douses it all with a double espresso. I take a spoonful of the mixture…and I'm in heaven. Luigi is watching.

'Is very good, no?'

'It's fantastic…hot and cold…sweet and bitter…and a little…fire…totally awesome.'

I give the spoon to Josh to have a try.

'Wow...that's good, isn't it?'

I eat as much as I can with the spoon before it all melts – and then drink the rest.

'That looked wonderful, Nick. I might have to give that a go next time we're here,' says Henry, before asking Luigi for the bill.

This arrives, along with a bowl of amaretti biscuits which Josh and I pretty well finish off.

'I don't know how you've got room for those,' says Tamara.

'Growing boys burn a lot of energy,' says Henry.


It's almost 10 o'clock by the time we're back at Josh's house. He and I say our goodnights and make our way upstairs. We look at a bit of TV but the work at the foodbank, and the sauna, and the lovely meal and wine have all conspired to make me feel tired. I'm just considering asking Josh if bed might be a good idea when he yawns.

'God, I feel whacked, Nico…how about you?'

'Just thinking the same thing.'

'Bed?'

'Bed.'

We snuggle up to each other under the covers.

'We were going to try the finger thing on me weren't we?' Josh says.

'Why don't we leave that until the morning? Take our time. Right now I just want to hold you.'

'Good idea. Night sexy.'

'Night beautiful.'


We wake up to grey skies and the sound of rain pattering on the window. It's the sort of Sunday morning that makes you just wants to turn over, cuddle up to someone you love, and stay in bed.

And that's pretty much what we do. Josh disappears into the bathroom at one point and comes back about ten minutes later.

'I'm all good if you want to…you know…'

'Are you sure?'

'Yes. I think it's a step on the road we should take. That you've already taken. And that I want to take.'

And he passes me the little blue tube.

Suffice to say we both enjoy what follows - and get sufficiently aroused to end up with the taste of one another in our mouths.

As we're lying in bed afterwards, a thought pops into my head.

'Josh, I think Alex will be back home tonight…might he like to join us for lunch with Duggie tomorrow – assuming he and Duggie get on OK? I'd quite like to find out how his weekend with sis went.'

'Good thinking. And Duggie and Alex like each other a lot – we're all friends.'

He reaches for his phone and calls Alex's number, but there's no reply.

'I'll message him. Hold on….' His fingers fly over the keys. 'OK, done.'

The day doesn't improve. It stays grey and wet and miserable. But Josh and I pass the time happily enough. It's a sign that we're comfortable just being together. And we are. And a message arrives from Alex saying he'd love to meet up for lunch tomorrow.


Monday morning couldn't be more different. The skies have cleared and the sun is streaming through the window when I wake up. I feel energised. And extremely horny. Josh is still asleep. I run my hand down his body until I find what I'm looking for. I put my head under the covers and go to work.

I hear a groan and then a voice - somewhat muffled by the sheet over my head – that says,

'Oh God…this is definitely my new favourite way to wake up.'

I feel his fingers running through my hair. A long guttural moan is then followed by a hiss of pleasure and, shortly afterwards, I get my reward.

I come up and kiss him.

'And good morning to you, too,' he says.

'Sorry. Can't help it. Feeling horny as hell. Which is your fault anyway for being so sexy. So don't complain.'

'Who's complaining? You can do that to me whenever - and however as often - as you want...'

'Can I do it again now, then?'

'God, you really are horny this morning, aren't you?'

'Can't say I didn't tell you….'

I pull the sheet off him. His cock is lying thickly over one thigh. I run a single finger up and down it. It twitches. I replace my finger with my mouth. I feel him slowly hardening again. It takes longer this time. Which is just fine by me.

With his second load safely inside me, I roll over onto my back.

'I suppose you want me to do the same to you now?' he says, eyeing my erection.

'Entirely up to you.

'Well, I suppose that thing isn't going to go down all by itself.'

'True.'

'And that means it's my duty to deal with it.'

'I fear so.'

'Provided you realise that this is strictly out of a sense of duty.'

'Of course.'

'And only because it would be embarrassing if it popped up again in the middle of our sauna this afternoon.'

'Indeed.'

'Just as well I love you, then.'

He kisses me before stroking me to an all-too-quick climax and then sucking me to a second more delayed one.

'Better now?' he asks.

'Much. Now. Tell me all about Duggie.'

'I'll be interested to see what you think. He's a middle child – older brother, younger sister. He's a bit of a rebel, more to irritate his parents than anything else I think. Not that he doesn't hold strong views about things. He's a vegetarian and a bit of an eco-warrior. He's not gay – or even bi as far as I know - but he's a big supporter of everything LGBTQ. He's smart although he tries to hide it sometimes, and he likes to try and shock people. But once he knows you and likes you, he's a fantastic friend, and fun to be with.'

'And we're meeting him for lunch?'

'Yes. There's a Pizza Express in Clifton…a bit further on from where we've walked so far.'

'How long have you known him?'

'I guess we've been friends for three years or so.'

'Is he doing the same subjects for A level as you?'

'No. He's more like you. Arts, not sciences...but as well as English – like you - he does Drama and Music. He's quite an accomplished guitarist.'

'Sounds really interesting.'

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