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“Ben,” Alex said into his scarf. He slid across the seat and pressed himself into the far corner, trying to be as invisible as possible in case one of his rescuers recognised him.

“Uh, Smith – Ben Smith,” he added. He hadn’t managed to get a good look at Joe, because he was in the seat directly in front of him and hadn’t said anything yet, but Alex could see he was taller than Peter, with broad shoulders and short, spiky blond hair.

“We’re waiting for two more – Lars and Matthew – and then we’ll set off, Ben,” Peter told him, glancing at him over his shoulder. “We’ll be taking you to a safe house overnight, and then we’ll get you to the coast and out of the country. By this time tomorrow you’ll be in France – and free.”

“Thanks,” Alex muttered, putting his head down.

He felt bad about deceiving this cheerful man with the kind smile, but he’d come this far and it made no sense to tell them his true identity now.

Maybe he’d come clean later, at the safe house, if he could get Peter on his own.

He trusted Peter instinctively and was positive he wouldn’t betray him.

He didn’t know about Joe – he couldn’t get a read on him yet.

As if he’d read his mind, Joe suddenly turned and looked directly at him.

Alex’s heart skipped a beat. He was an imposing man, with a strong jaw, flat nose, and piercing blue eyes.

He was wearing a purple sweater and a brown coat, looking very stylish, in contrast to Peter’s more casual appearance.

He was probably in his early thirties, which, Alex estimated, made him several years younger than Peter.

“We’ve got a change of clothes for you at the safe house,” Joe said gruffly. “Something clean and dry. Good food waiting there, too.”

Alex sensed immediately that Joe was a darker personality than Peter.

He wouldn’t take any bullshit. While Peter might be sympathetic to learning his true identity, Joe would be angry at being deceived.

There was an edge of danger to him – as if he’d make a good friend but a dangerous enemy.

Feeling an unexpected tingling sensation in his belly, Alex realised, with surprise, that he found Joe attractive.

Not daring to do more than nod in response, he retreated into the safety of his hood. Joe gazed at him for a couple more seconds with those piercing blue eyes, and then he gave a sigh, turning to face the front again.

Alex was relieved to be spared further scrutiny.

A few seconds later, the door behind Peter was suddenly wrenched open, and a huge man with a long, straggly beard peered inside.

Joe might have a dangerous aura, but at least it was coupled with a sense of tightly leashed control.

This newcomer was threatening in a different way.

His eyes were wild and darted around constantly, and he stank.

Alex shrank away, both from the smell and from his odd body language.

“Who are you?” the newcomer demanded. “If you’re from an IA, then I warn you, I’m armed.”

Alex gripped the door handle in alarm when he saw what looked like the outline of a gun in the man’s pocket, but neither Joe nor Peter seemed fazed.

“You must be Lars,” Peter said in a calm voice. “It’s okay – you’re safe. We’re not from an investigation agency – Elsie sent us to help you escape. I’m Peter, and this is my husband, Josiah.” He jerked his thumb in Joe’s direction .

Alex had forgotten that they were married. He felt a sudden knot of envy form in his stomach.

“It’s okay, Lars. You’re safe. We’re here to help – aren’t we, Joe?” Peter said, nudging his husband with his elbow.

“Yeah – get in, Lars. This is Ben – he just arrived. We’re just waiting for one more person – Matthew – and then we can set off,” Joe explained.

Lars lowered his big body into the back seat of the car, and Alex manoeuvred himself even further into the corner, trying to take up as little space as possible.

He didn’t like Lars; maybe living on the edge for the past ten days had heightened his sense of threat, but he felt sure that Lars was both unpredictable and unstable.

He wrapped his scarf across his nose to block out the smell, wondering how Peter and Joe could stand it, but then he supposed he didn’t smell too good right now, either.

“Bit wet and cold tonight, but you’ll soon warm up now you’re in the car,” Peter said. “When Matthew turns up, we’ll get you to a safe house where you can have a bath and a change of clothes.”

That sounded good. Alex loved the thought of luxuriating in warm, soapy water after days walking the streets and nights sleeping in bushes. Peter asked if they had any medical needs, and Alex shook his head, hoping Matthew would arrive soon, so they could set off.

“We should leave. I think I was followed,” Lars said unexpectedly.

“What makes you say that, Lars?” Joe turned again in his seat.

Alex studied the big blond man, trying to work out why he felt so drawn to him. Peter was a good man – he’d make you smile and do his best for you – but Joe would protect you, and right now Alex felt in desperate need of that.

“Investigation Agency, or a bounty hunter – I’m not sure which,” Lars said. “I was followed for two miles yesterday but managed to lose them.”

Joe pointed out, in reasonable if brusque tones, that IA investigators had to identify themselves if they suspected you were an escaped indie – he seemed very knowledgeable on the subject.

“A bounty hunter, then. Everyone knows they act outside the law!” Lars looked frantically out of the windows, his eyes darting wildly .

Alex wondered how long he’d been on the run. His own paranoia had increased exponentially in just over a week, so if Lars had escaped some time ago it might explain his craziness.

“No offence, but bounty hunters only go after high-value escaped indies, so a cleaning company IS isn’t likely to attract them,” Joe said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Ben – where did you escape from?”

Alex froze. Did Joe suspect him of being a “high-value escaped indie”? Had those sharp blue eyes somehow guessed his secret? He remembered the back story he’d rehearsed and mumbled “factory” into his scarf. Joe seemed satisfied with that.

“How much longer must we wait?” Lars complained loudly. “We must go now.”

Alex agreed, but he didn’t like the way Lars was waving his arms around aggressively. Peter explained that they’d be here until 8.30p.m., but Lars wasn’t having any of it.

“That’s too long,” he argued. “We must go now.”

Joe swivelled in his seat to glare at Lars, and Alex felt a sudden coldness permeate the car. Elsie was right – Joe was scary.

“Well, that’s how long we’re going to wait,” Joe stated, in a tone that brooked no disagreement. Alex wouldn’t have dared, and Lars didn’t, either. He sat back in his seat.

“How about some music?” Peter suggested, clearly to lighten the mood. “This will interest you – it’s a CD player, so it’s perfectly in period for a Pre-R car.”

Alex was interested, but Joe clearly wasn’t. He snorted at his husband’s choice of music.

“Peter’s a fan of New Wave Emo Rock,” Joe said in a wry tone. “Which as far as I can see means sad young people with raspy voices singing daft songs with incomprehensible lyrics that sound like they mean something but don’t.”

Peter laughed, and Alex sensed that this was an ongoing argument between them.

He was struck by how relaxed and normal they were during this most abnormal of situations.

What would it be like to have someone in your life like Joe?

Someone who knew you inside out, who teased you and made you laugh like Peter was laughing now.

Peter bantered back about Joe’s love of Pre-R rock, and Alex was transfixed.

Maybe, one day, Ben Smith could have a relationship like this, even if Alexander Lytton never could.

A song by an artist called Ashton started playing. Joe mocked it, making up new lyrics to go with the mournful tune.

“Oh no, I’m so bloody sad, please let me drone on about how sad I am,” he sang. Peter grinned and turned up the volume to drown him out. They argued about the meaning of the song for a little while, and then Joe turned to look at Alex and Lars.

“So – how about a vote?” he asked. “Anyone here want something less pretentious? Something with a beat, perhaps? Maybe The Beatles? Or Queen?”

Alex shrugged, not wanting to draw attention to himself, although he sided with Joe on this one. He loved Pre-R rock and thought the New Wave Emo stuff was crap.

“I’m the driver,” Peter said. “And the driver always gets to choose the music.”

“Yes, Captain.” Joe saluted him.

Alex wondered if that was a pet name, or whether Peter had once been in the military.

If anyone had been in the armed forces, he’d have thought it would be Joe, with his straight back and sense of tightly leashed strength.

Peter didn’t look like the type who obeyed orders and shined his shoes until he could see his face in them.

Peter and Joe chatted away, still teasing one another, and then Peter suggested that Joe buy them some drinks from a café over the road.

“Good idea. What do you guys want – Ben? Lars?” Joe questioned. He pulled out his wallet.

Alex asked for a tea – anything hot would be welcome after days eating out of packets in the park.

“Anything to eat?” Josiah pressed, glancing inside his wallet.

Alex shook his head. Beside him, he felt Lars suddenly tense up.

“Okay – five teas, then. We’ll assume our missing Matthew will also fancy a cuppa when he shows up,” Josiah said. He climbed out of the car, still complaining about the terrible choice of music as he left.

When he’d gone, Lars poked Alex in the ribs.

“He’s an investigator,” he hissed in an undertone. In the front, Peter was singing along to the song and performing a little drum solo, beating his hands on the steering wheel in time to the music.

“What?” Alex frowned.