“You didn’t really tell me about Tom,” I said, giving him a smile. “Why do I get the feeling that with you two itwasabsolutely perfect?”
He chuckled. “I can’t claim that. But we were very well suited.”
“Was he in the fitness game, too?”
“God, no. He was a musician. Played the guitar.”
I let him talk, let him ramble on as much as he wanted. It was very different to the defensive tone I’d adopted when talking about Bill. I don’t say that they had a better relationship than mine, but it was certainly a more conventionally loving and close one. Nobody could doubt that from the way he glowed when he talked of the man. I could envy him that.
“Can I show you a picture him?” Chris asked at one point, after we’d finished eating and were drinking coffee. He looked wary and I felt the same. Did I want to see a picture of my dead rival? Could I really consider him that? But how could I say no without it seeming like a snub?
“If I can show you a picture of Bill.”