The drive down yesterday had been quiet, but not awkward. They're rarely awkward with each other. The house, which Ramon hasn't seen in about forty years, is actually much as he remembers it - old, rambling, a little frayed around the edges. The front is reached by a long driveway edged by thick trees, the back opens up on to a beach. It's not a
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"Lover, this place is a dream."
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A hand rests on one of the arms round his waist and he leans back into him a little.
'Would have brought us here sooner if I'd remembered it was still in the family. Maybe I should buy it.'
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He can see them, so easily, spending months here.
"We'll think about it when we get home, yeah? Lord knows, me drunk off the air isn't the best person to decide."
He presses his face into the side of his neck.
"Solitude."
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'I'll make a few more calls tomorrow. Should be no problem at all, give them enough money and they'll take the offer. I'll just have to do it anonymously.'
He'd shrug if Random weren't wrapped round him. Money is no object. If Random likes it, Random will get it.
He stays quiet for a while, just enjoying the gentle leaning. But eventually murmurs, 'What have you been up to this morning?'
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