Sean watched Orlando come through the front door of the shop and had all his 
‘excuses’ ready ranging from: Man, we were so drunk last night to … actually 
this was his only excuse other than admitting that he was lonely. Sean cleared
his throat as Orlando approached and said, “Morning Orlando.”

Orlando just looked at him with a grin and replied, “Good morning Sean.” When he
thought Sean had squirmed enough he laughed, “ It’s okay Sean, I know it was 
just a fun night. My arse is sore but, I am not going to pine away until you 
swear your undying love for me!”

Sean definitely looked relieved, but had to ask, “It was just your comment 
before I left … I wasn’t sure …”

“Oh fuck Sean! I didn’t mean me! I may look it, but I am not that naďve!” 
Orlando exclaimed slapping Sean across the shoulder, “But I do think you are 
missing a lot of … of … I don’t know, stuff, the way you live.”

“ Oh yeah, much clearer now Orlando.” Sean smiled.

“Oh shit … um … okay, I’ll tell you why the name of the shop is ‘Margins’, that
might help, yeah?”

Sean folded his arms and leaned back against the counter waiting for Orlando to
collect his thoughts and continue. “I remember when I was little I got really 
upset about something … can’t remember what now, but my dad asked me if mum had
ever told me why they called the shop ‘Margins’. I said she hadn’t and …”

“Get to the point Orlando.” Sean sighed.

“Anyway, he explained that the most important things aren’t always in the main
story, sometimes the real meaning is scribbled in the margins. You know, when 
you pick up a second hand book and people have written stuff in it … um, read 
what other people think is important. Maybe they underline a sentence or just a
word. Sometimes it has nothing to do with the story but how they feel at the 
time.” Orlando frowned because he could see Sean was not getting his point, “All
I’m saying is, there is more to life than the main story … check out the notes
in the margins, maybe they’re even more important.”

“ So what scribbles are important here Orlando?” Sean asked sarcastically.

“Oh I don’t know!” Orlando shrugged frustrated but not defeated, “Um … Okay, 
look how you are so caught up with profits and meeting deadlines, yeah … and 
then you meet someone like Viggo. He is not part of your story, but he means 
something. He might be important.”

“Oh that is total shite Orlando.” Sean grumbled, “Go and put the kettle on you 
are making my head thump.”

Sean fished in his pocket for his headache pills while Orlando’s words replayed
themselves, “… and then you meet someone like Viggo. He is not part of your 
story, but he means something.” He lay the pills on the counter ready for his 
tea and mumbled, “How the fuck can someone like Viggo mean something?” Orlando
had touched a nerve and Sean knew it.

Between accounts and customers Sean managed to shrug off the mood Orlando had 
put him in with his little story and was chatting happily to a young female 
customer when Viggo entered the shop. He faltered slightly in his sentence when
they made brief eye contact. Viggo gave a small smile and nodded hello. Sean
nodded back, but Viggo had already looked away. Sean felt a twinge of guilt, but
wasn’t sure if it was sparked by his previous dismissal of Viggo’s importance 
or … or the fact he had fucked Orlando?

He smiled back at the woman and handed her the brown paper bag containing her 
child’s picture book. 

“Was that Vig?” Orlando exclaimed as he bounced past Sean and headed to the back
of the shop. Sean glowered at the young man’s retreating back and muttered, “You
fucking know it is so why ask?” Suddenly he felt sick to his stomach that 
Orlando had rushed to tell Viggo the events of the night before. “So what!” he 
scowled, and turned his attention to the inventory book, “I have to get some 
fucking computers in this place…” 

Sean heard Orlando’s laugh and slammed the book shut. He stalked toward the 
second hand section and growled at Orlando, “Are you doing any work today?” 

Orlando took Sean’s mood in his stride and grinned, “Oh come on Sean, it’s a 
half day today and we are closing soon. I was just telling Vig that we are 
moving you into mum’s place this afternoon and that you couldn’t put up with the
‘little old lady’ furniture.” 

Sean relaxed a bit; his evening with Orlando had not been the topic of 
conversation, “Give me a break Orlando, you moved out!” 

Orlando laughed and slid his arm in Viggo’s and asked, “Come on Vig, wanna give
us a hand moving Sean’s stuff upstairs? I’ll make him buy us dinner!”

Viggo looked briefly at Sean and then shrugged at Orlando and said, “Sure.”

~~ * ~~


Moving a selection of Sean’s possessions took most of the afternoon. Although 
Maggie had left the apartment fully furnished Sean decided to put her furniture
into storage and move in some of his own. The bulk of his belongings remained 
uptown as in his ‘real’ apartment, that way when the year was over he could 
simply settle back into his old life.

By early evening only a few boxes of clothes and peripheral items remained in 
their neatly printed cardboard boxes. Sean had to admit that although he was 
initially reluctant to let Viggo help, he had worked hard and done the bulk of 
the manual work. Whereas, Orlando seemed to start a lot of jobs, but always 
found something else more interesting and spent most of his time looking through
the boxes providing a running commentary rather than actually unpacking them. 
Finally Sean called a halt and sent Orlando for beer and take out.

With nothing left to do Viggo stood uncomfortably near a stack of collapsed and
folded packing boxes waiting to see what Sean wanted him to do. 

Sean turned away from the door, saw Viggo’s discomfort and gave him a gentle 
smile, “ Orlando won’t be long. How about you give me a hand and we clear away 
some of these boxes to give us room to eat?” 

Little more than an hour later the three men had managed to empty all the 
takeout cartons and the debris was now stacked on Sean’s coffee table. 

“Man, I’m stuffed.” Orlando groaned rubbing his hands over his very full belly. 

“I’m not bloody surprised,” Sean laughed, “For a skinny guy you can sure pack it
away.” 

“I saw you knocking back an entire carton of satay!” Orlando pouted, “and I am 
notskinny you wanker!” 

“Oh come on, you are a twig,” Sean said as he leaned down to reach Orlando and 
pulled up his t-shirt to expose his belly, “Look at this! Nothing wobbles!” 
Orlando shrieked as Sean proved his point by giving him a round of playful 
slaps, “Fuck off you bastard, help… Vig, make him stop.” 

Viggo sat on his side of the table and laughed at the antics of his friend. The
sound made Sean abandon torturing Orlando and look up at Viggo. He was stunned
by the change in Viggo’s features when he laughed and found himself smiling as 
Viggo met his eyes. 

Viggo’s own smile faded under Sean’s look. He decided then that it was time to
go and got to his feet looking around for his jacket, boots and pack. Orlando 
saw the sudden change in Viggo; he half expected it because he always did this 
when he started to drop his guard. It had taken Viggo months to even tolerate 
Orlando sitting next to him and longer still for him to accept Orlando touching
him. That was the hardest thing for Orlando to deal with, remembering to give 
Viggo space and resist his inability not to touch and hug people. 

“It’s gonna be cold tonight, find somewhere warm okay?” Orlando said as he got 
to his feet to see Viggo to the door. He knew Viggo had little choice over his 
sleeping arrangements, but hoped the hot dinner would help. 

“Yeah, thanks for help today.” Sean called as Viggo closed the door behind him. 

When Orlando turned away from the door it was obvious that his previous light 
mood was gone. Seeing his expression Sean frowned and asked, “Come on Orlando, 
he has had his nightly weather report … he’ll be okay.” 

“It’s a cold night Sean and it’s late,” when it was obvious Sean didn’t get the
intent of his words Orlando continued, “ It’s late Sean. The shelter will be 
closed. Viggo knows that and he has nowhere to go.” 

“Why didn’t he fucking say so?” Sean rolled his eyes and growled, “Why didn’t he
ask…?” 

Orlando shot Sean a withering look and said, “Would you?” 

Sean felt the air leave his lungs as he realised he wouldn’t, his fucking pride
wouldn’t let him, but he still tried to reason, “Look, he’ll find somewhere.” 

“Yeah Sean … and he can always call the hypothermia emergency line if he can 
find a phone that hasn’t been vandalised!” Orlando spat out. 

“Come on Orlando, I‘ll drive you home.” Sean said quietly wondering if there was
such a thing as a hypothermia emergency line. 

It was bitterly cold and had started to rain by the time they reached the car, 
but neither man acknowledged it. They sat in silence while Sean peered through 
the fogged window waiting for the demister to work. They were several blocks 
down the main road when Sean pulled sharply into the curb. He hit the button 
lowering the electric windows, leaned across Orlando’s lap and shouted, “Get 
in.” 

The icy wind rushed in through the open window making Orlando’s eye’s water, but
he was still able to make out the somewhat surprised and confused expression on
Viggo’s face. He just stood there staring at Sean unsure what to do. Orlando 
wasn’t sure what Sean had in mind, but he mentally willed Viggo to walk to the 
car. He could feel Sean growing impatient when Viggo didn’t move so he called, 
“Come on Vig, please get in.” 

*****