"No." Yes. Of course he was, what else was he supposed to think about? That hair, the glasses, the smile. The way his lips felt against his hand. The swagger, the touch to his waist, the way his hips swayed in a hypnotic way. In a way he never knew he wanted to be hypnotised. He wanted the gardener. He hated himself for him, he had prayed and tried his absolute best to get his mind off it but here he was, trying to pretend he was asleep and sort his head out.

Of course Hartley asked. Why did he ask? He didn't want to be asked. "I have other things to think about." He did not. He opened his eyes and looked at Hartley. "I don't have a one track mind." He did. Apparently.