Notes from the Grey Tower

Chapter 12

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Arnold said through the gold-rimmed glasses: "Great, you really don't matter now."

He was lonely clubbing alone, and lacked an accomplice who was fooling around. I was honored to get his invitation to join.

On weekend mornings, I would do math with the red-haired kid, and Arnold was waiting for me in the lobby drinking black tea. We hung out in every speakeasy in Cambridgeshire that winter. I molested all the bartenders who were decent looking.

We usually go to the Cherry Bar in the evening, and the two of us stand at the door against the light, blocking the thin winter sun. A girl in the store greeted us: "Hi, handsome guy!"

Anyway, it was Andymond's breakup fee, and I spent it generously.

I drink, but never play with women.

Not used to their pungent powdery smell.

When Arnold succeeded in picking up a girl, I just leaned on the bar counter and raised my glass to him from a distance across the crowd.

It's a place full of bad cigarettes, cocktails and exaggerated laughter.

So it never occurred to me that Andrew would come to this place.

It was raining coldly on the street that night, and the dripping water turned to ice.

Arnold and his girlfriend had disappeared into the crowd, perhaps to the guest room above the Cherry Bar.

I leaned against the bar drinking gin and water by myself.

The waitress from the coffee shop I used to frequent came in to take shelter from the rain. She was a pretty girl in her work plaid dress, and she ordered a glass of cider, grumbling, and sat in a chair by the bar. A group of half-drunk youths happened to pass by and entangled her.

They played so nasty that I walked over and stood in front of her.

I unbuttoned the front three buttons of my shirt, exposing my passable chest muscles, and shook my legs to the five gangsters: "This is my girlfriend—"

"Sarah," she whispered behind my back.

"Yes, this is my girlfriend Sarah."

Then we fought. A man with a tattoo on his arm punched me in the stomach and I broke the tooth of the fat guy next to him. Before he could recover, he was punched in the face again, and his mouth immediately smelled bloody.

It would have been better with Arnold, but right now I'm fighting alone.

The fat man was pushed into the crowd by me and knocked down a group of guests.

We made a lot of noise, people in the hall started to walk out, and the bartender disappeared to nowhere.

So the Cherry Bar was almost empty by the time Anderson showed up.

The door suddenly opened, and the cold wind from outside poured in.

Andemon stood on the high steps at the narrow entrance, overlooking the bar hall on the basement level.

He didn't bring an umbrella, his black woolen coat was dripping, and his hair was sticking to his forehead.

Andemon was very thin, and his figure looked thin after being drenched in the rain, but his looking down had a condescending taste.

My vest was torn, my shirt was buttoned off, my face was covered in blood, and one eye was bruised and swollen.

And my five opponents were not much better.

In order to show that the hero saved the beauty, I kept grabbing the hand of the waitress and didn't let go.

Andmon glanced at me, but didn't speak. He walked down the steps, first punched the fat man standing closest, then turned and kicked the tattooed man who came to help. It was the first time I saw Andymond doing it. His movements are terribly fluid and concise, and his hands are very precise, always choosing the most vulnerable places-under the jaw and throat, for example. Attacking these parts can inflict great pain on the opponent, while disabling their resistance.

When Andemont grabbed one of the wrists with his backhand, I clearly heard the sound of fracture.

That's when I realized he was at the top of MI6.

When we were together, I always thought I was protecting Andymond.

It turned out not to be so.

He kicked five people who were lying on the ground immobile and came towards me.

I saw the corner of Andemon's mouth raised, but there was no smile in the green eyes: "Protect your girlfriend, right?"

At that moment, I was like a demon. I just want to hurt him.

I said, "Yes, thank you."

His pale golden forehead hair stuck to his face in strands, and his coat was still dripping water.

Before I could react, he punched me directly. Hit me in the stomach.

Unprepared, I crouched down in pain. The whole world is shaking.

I heard Andremon speaking to the waitress standing behind me. His voice was soft: "Break up with him. He's gay."

Then he put his arm under mine, picked me up, and walked outside.

Andrew didn't come by car, and we walked along the long street in the heavy rain and night.

"Where's your car?"

"No." Andemon said, "I don't want to be followed."

I smiled wryly: "It's raining so hard, what are you doing here without a car driving? Crazy."

His voice was almost drowned out by the sound of rain: "I'm here to find you."

My arm was dislocated, my whole body was injured, and I was shaking in the cold rain, and I had to rely on Andremon to support me all the way. He put me under the porch of the rented house, stretched out his hand, and gently wiped off the blood mixed with rainwater on my face, and checked the wound.

Andemon looked at me: "If my coat is dry, I can help you put it on."

I spit out the broken blood clots in my mouth: "The punks are just fighting in the street. Thank you for your help."

He suddenly pushed me against the tall columns of the porch. Like giving me that punch at the bar, without warning. My back hit a hard rock, and I grimaced in pain for a moment.

Andrew leaned over and kissed me.

He grabbed my wet hair with his hands and pressed his whole body on top of me. My face was broken, but he was able to kiss me.

He first kissed me shallowly, and I felt the blood clots on my lips melt under his warmth, and my mouth was full of bloody taste. Andemon has a cleansing habit, I thought he would let me go, but he gently sucked the blood on my lips, then separated a short distance, and smiled at me with his eyes bent.

I saw him swallow the blood he licked.

"Pervert," I said.

He smiled again and looked down.

I turned my head away and he took my chin and turned back.

Gently teasing the tongue in the mouth, when it touched the wound, Andemont deliberately stayed for a while longer. His hands grabbed my hair and my forehead was pressed against his. At first, the smell of blood in the mouth was very strong, with a hint of sweetness, and then there was a kind of numbing intoxication. At the end when Andremon was sucking my tongue, I started to lack oxygen, my hands and feet were weak, and my heart was beating fast.

I bit his tongue, Andemon let go of me and asked, "Not satisfied?"

I said, "I thought we had nothing to do with each other."

There was a gas lamp for lighting by the iron fence in the garden, and Andermond's delicate face was half-lit in the dim light.

He put his hands on the pillar and fixed me in the small space formed by the body: "I remember I said that dumping me doesn't mean you can go to someone else."

I've always thought it was Andermond who started the breakup. He tactfully told me the truth about the death of my parents, implying that it would be best for us not to see each other in the future. But when he said "dumped me", it seemed to imply that I was responsible.

"You didn't trust me, we broke up. I thought you broke up first."

"I don't trust you, but it doesn't mean we have to break up. Alan, your parents were sensitive people and had contacts with German spies." Andemon's face seemed sad for a moment: "You must ask me Trust me, we just broke up."

"You still don't trust me?"

Andrew shook his head.

I said: "Then our relationship is over. It will be a long time in the future, and I will find someone else, just like you found Linton."

Andemon looked a little confused, I reminded him: "Don't you often go out for a drive on weekends?"

"We're just colleagues, and I appreciate his thinking. Just as I appreciate Mrs. Custer's academic perspective. That doesn't mean I love your mother."

But when Andemon said this, there seemed to be a kind of hesitation on his face, as if recalling a very, very distant past: "She is perfect, with the same gray-blue eyes as you."

I broke free, and the copper key couldn't fit into the keyhole of the main door. Andemont followed and hugged me from behind.

He said, "Alan, I've come to see you today. The government is going to deploy some new radio reception stations on the Atlantic coast, and I may be away for a long time. Can you wait for me?"

"When?" I asked him.

"Until the end of the war."

Andemond suddenly became very quiet. I turned my head and saw his slender eyelashes hanging down, covering his eyes.

"Allen, I'm sorry." After a long pause, he said, "The war is about to begin. Although most people in the government don't believe it, it will be an unprecedented war, and the whole of Europe may be swept into it." ...and when it's over, I'll leave MI6 and be with you."