Overview

Daniel “Hi, is that Daniel Warwick,” an American voice asks. “Yes,” I answer warily. “You’re the husband of Abel Warwick?” “Yes,” I confirm. I haven’t seen Abe in… seven years. “I’m so sorry to be the one to deliver bad news, my name is Sarah Hollis, I’m a nurse at the MacArthur Military hospital in Addis Ababa in Ethiopia.” I swallow hard. “Your husband was hurt while he was getting some shots of the military base, here. We’re flying him out to London tomorrow.” “Which hospital,” I ask in a panicky voice. I scribble down the hospital, and when to expect him and hang up. I sink down on the stairs and have the wherewithal to text Olivia, my best friend since uni. She has been through all the Abel-drama with me. Only 20 minutes later, she storms through my door. I must look a fright; I feel sick and am covered in cold sweat. I already keep biting my thumb, a stress reaction very specific to Abel that I abandoned long ago. Before she says anything, she makes me extremely sugary tea, hands me the cup and sits down with me on the stairs. “What are you thinking? Or feeling,” she asks. I take a deep breath. “They said he’s hurt, but not how hurt. Or what kind of hurt. I forgot to ask. I was so shocked. What if he needs real care? I already know, he’ll hate it. And he’ll take it out on me.” “So? You can always put him in a home,” she laughs. But I know from taking care of my mum that the social care system is a nightmare to navigate. I’m already wondering what kinds of support I can apply for. Thankfully, I haven’t removed my mum’s stair lift or the hospital-style bed in the spare room. “Okay, but maybe he isn’t that badly hurt,” Olivia says. “The US military is flying him out. Sounds bad,” I reply, dejected. “Yes, but maybe you’re catastrophising again. I assume the military is also flying out people who only broke their leg. There’s a civil war in Ethiopia. I’m assuming they fly out a lot of people,” she says, matter-of-factly. I take a deep breath, hoping she’s right. ________________________________________________________________________________________________ 2003 “Hey beautiful, where are you going?” I look up at the gorgeous man standing in front of me. He has light blonde hair, stormy grey-blue eyes, is lean and tall, taller than me, and has an irresistible crooked smile. We are on a train platform and I’m waiting for the train that takes me from Chipping Worton, where I spent the weekend with my mum, back to uni in Manchester. The train is several hours delayed because some sheep got on the tracks, it is September, but still warm, and the sun is blasting down on the platform and I’m just happy I’m wearing sunscreen. I have my nose buried in a book, and sit on the ground, leaning against a wall away from the other waiting passengers. “Back to uni,” I say, insecurely. I’m not really sure what’s going on here. I’m not the kind of guy beautiful men like that just talk to. I’m shy, nerdy, inexperienced, and if that doesn’t turn you off, my daily phone calls with mum may very well do. _________________________________________________________________________________________________ Daniel and Abel fall in love as students in 2003 and get married in Amsterdam soon after. Daniel is passionate about books, but studies accountancy and Abe is working on a photography degree. They soon move to Amsterdam where they can be legally married and Abe discovers his talent as animal and travel photographer before he starts documenting human suffering. Daniel gets increasingly anxious about his husband''s travel. They reunite to legally get married in the UK. But old problems soon emerge again and after moving to Berlin together, they soon separate again, this time to permanently. Or not?