Drawing Blood

Chapter Twenty-seven

If popular culture was anything to go by, then Stefan should have been a six-foot-tall Demi-God, surrounded by a sheet of pure blonde hair, with ice cold, blue eyes to match. But the man who stepped through the door that night, was so opposite my expectations, that I had to supress my surprise when he greeted Adam with a wide grin and an affectionate hug; the pair of them conversing straight into his native Swedish tongue.

Although his shoulders stooped lower, and his hands were smaller, Stefan was almost the same build as Will. He was younger in years, though; but he appeared wiser in some respects. It became obvious to me, as the evening unfolded, that these were the only things they had in common. Whereas Will could be standoffish and hostile, Stefan was honest and intriguing. They were complete opposites. And it was as though Stefan had a way about him; a way that Will would never have. It was a knack of putting people at ease, making them feel as though they were the only ones that mattered. Even when he was sharing his most disturbing stories, he would ask if you were okay. Although his appearance had broken the bubble of the last twenty-four hours, like a pin bursting a balloon; I grew to like him. I admit, I was left shocked and ransacked by the time he left. But it wasn't hard for me to see why Adam admired him so much; admired him for his bravery, and trusted him with his life unequivocally.

It had been strange thing; hearing Adam speak another language so fluently. I never had him pegged down for it. I felt a torrent of admiration and increasing attraction towards him as his mouth formed the alien vowels so perfectly; my own fumbling inadequacy lingering for only a second before I brushed it away, as though I had taken a large broom to it, sweeping it under an old cabinet, out of sight. I had remained quiet while they spoke, observing the pair of them, making my mind up quickly that they had a father and son relationship. Perhaps Stefan had adopted him because he missed having a family of his own; perhaps he had seen something of himself in Adam. Whatever it was, he had made it his responsibility to guide him, in the manner only a father could.

To my dismay, the rain had made another visit, coming in from the north this time. My beautiful sunset had long gone, replaced with great big, billowy clouds of gloom, bringing with it a chill that had people wearing hats and scarves; coats drawn up tight around their throats. The wind that had blown in with it had affected Stefan on the way over here, too, I noted; although he didn't seem bothered by it. He wore a beige overcoat, thinking that was adequate; the hem darker in colour where the water had run down and settled. And his black trousers, paired with a black roller neck to keep his neck warm, made him look like a shadowy figure; easy to blend in and hide in all the wrong places. He was slightly crumpled around the edges, his untidy brown hair matching his colourless eyes; the flecks of grey gracing his temples, matching the flecks of grey in his moustache. He reminded me of an old and weary detective, a man who spent a great deal of time on foot, preferring to shy away from a desk. When Adam introduced us both, I half expected him to start interrogating me. Instead, he smiled as he took a small step forward, shaking the hand I'd offered him. "I'm sorry, I still insisted on coming," he apologised, breaking into English for me, "But I wanted to say goodbye to Adam before I left."

I felt myself relax, and greeted him, giving him what I considered to be a friendly smile of my own. "Did you come far?"

"I've been staying in London. On business. I travelled down to Brighton when Adam called; I'm staying at The Grand, currently."

"The Grand?"

"Expensive, but worth it," he admitted. He paused for a moment, to assess me, and I thought; this was it, this was when the questions would come. But they never did. I got the impression he was examining me from under a microscope, like some unique specimen he had discovered and needed to share with the world. "I've been wanting to meet you for a long time, now," he murmured, with some appreciation. "I've heard Adam speak of you, but I never would have believed it, if I hadn't seen it for myself."