“What do you think of Thomas?”

“He’s turned out to be completely different to the person you described.” Charlie had painted a bleak picture about his brother, and so far he hadn’t matched that description. Thomas had turned out to be a thoroughly decent person, and easy on the eye.

“Do not be fooled by appearances. I meant what I said about him.”

“I don’t know whether to believe anything you say anymore.” I was referring to the revelation that he’d lied about visiting his parents at Christmas. He didn’t reply.

Thomas had been here a couple of days, and it was the second night that Charlie had shared my bed. It was strange because apart from one night stands, I was used to sleeping alone.

The first night had been awkward. I’d gone to read while Charlie stayed up late talking to Thomas. I pretended to be asleep when he came to bed. He was wearing only his underwear when he slipped between the sheets, but that wasn’t unusual because he spent most days like this. 

In a perfect world, in my colourful imagination, Charlie would have cuddled up to me and we would have spent a memorable night entwined with each other. But Charlie wasn’t like that. He put in ear buds and started watching something on YouTube. 

I wanted to touch him, I wanted to say that despite his shady lifestyle, that I loved him. Instead, I was motionless, willing something good to happen, and waited until I fell asleep.

In the morning, Charlie laid with his hands behind his head. “I had a strange dream last night, and I was furious with you. I dreamt that we were in Paris one night, and we had argued, and so I had gone to a bar on my own. In the meantime, you had gone for a walk and met Madonna in a dark alley. There was nobody else around. You fooled together and made silly videos on your phone. You showed them when we met up later and would not share them with me, and I was furious because you do not like Madonna like I do.”

I told this tale to Thomas later that day. 

“Charlie has always had strange dreams,” he said, “ever since he was a child. Sometimes he is frustrated because the dreams are not real. Once he dreamt that I had been abducted by a monster that lived in the Paris sewers and was annoyed when he found me drinking hot chocolate the following morning. Be satisfied that it was not a violent dream because he is likely to hit you in his sleep.” He paused. “But he would not deliberately hit someone that he loves.”

“I don’t think for one moment that Charlie loves me.”

“Then he is a fool because he should know that you are perfect for him.”

It had been decent of Thomas to say so, but I couldn’t help thinking that he was trying to flatter me, or at best, flirt with me. I looked at him, dressed in shorts and t-shirt, his pale long legs stretched out before him, and saw how different he was from his brother. 

“Charlie can be selfish, and stubborn, and he can be deceitful when he wants his own way. My brother must settle down with a man he can trust and who will care for him.”

“I don’t believe that I’m that person,” I replied. “We’re quite different in our ways, and Charlie won’t be around forever.”

“If you believe that, then you are fooling yourself. Charlie will stay where he is wanted. He is sleeping in your bed and that will make him feel safe. I am envious because that is something I would also like.”

I remembered a night many months before, shortly after Charlie had arrived to stay with me, and we’d gone to a busy bar. Just as we were about to leave, Charlie had gone to the toilet, and I waited outside. I stood on the other side of the street and watched as he came looking for me. I saw the panic on his face when he couldn’t find me, and the relief when he did.

Thomas stood up and I saw how slender he was. He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me towards him and despite his lean frame, I realised that he was strong and broad chested. 

“If Charlie is not interested, I might break my promise and sleep with a handsome man.” He gave me a friendly kiss and I could feel his soft bristles against my cheek.

I felt young again, recalling those carefree days when every guy was going to be better than the last one.