Any Day

by Brian Lancaster

  “That’s what Luke spent ages trying to find out. We’re talking about the early eighties here, so you couldn’t search online like you can today. Luke loved a mystery. Maybe that’s why he warmed to the house so much.”

  “I’m beginning to know how he felt,” said Lenny, and even Adrian understood. “There’s something incredibly peaceful about this place. Hey, Philippa. If you’re around over the weekend, why don’t you pop into the Manor Inn one evening and have a drink with us? Bring your husband, if you want.”

  “Sounds like a nice idea. Let me check his schedule and I’ll drop you a line.”

  Both Adrian and Lenny walked her to the front door before stopping in the hallway.

  “Before you go, can I ask you something?” said Lenny. “About Luke?”

  “Of course. Anything.”

  “Do you think—uh—do you know if Luke might have been different?”

  Philippa smiled and gazed away, shaking her head very briefly before looking back at him.

  “Are you asking me if Luke was gay? Because he told us in the strictest confidence. Didn’t want anything to get out to his family. But the simple answer is yes, he was.”

  Lenny seemed happy with this answer, but Adrian had to know something else.

  “And do you think that’s why he killed himself?”

  “No. Absolutely not. Although I didn’t see him the two or three years before his death, he was adamant that studying at the RCA would be his liberation. He often mused about living in London and becoming the next Robert Mapplethorpe.”

  “You see,” said Adrian. “That’s what I don’t understand. What you’re telling us is he had everything to live for.”

  “I know. We struggled, too, afterwards. You really ought to speak to Freya, if you get a chance. She was here the whole time and probably knew him better than any of us. If anyone is going to have answers for you, it’s her.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Collaborate

  Throughout the afternoon, Leonard did his best to match the strength and energy Adrian put into the work. But anyone could tell—had anyone been watching—that Adrian had years of experience on his side. At Adrian’s insistence, they both wore goggles, masks and thick gloves and used mainly manual tools—crowbars, hammers and knives—and sheer brute strength to tear out most of the kitchen cabinets before breaking them down to maximise the space in the dumpster. Leonard found the exertion both energising and therapeutic. Once they had finished in the kitchen, only the sink, the fridge and the gas stove remained standing. In the process of removing the cupboards, Adrian had managed to salvage a couple of broken saucepans, a rusted tin of powdered bleach, and a large red bucket full of damp sand.

  “There you go,” he said to Leonard. “Shows how old this place is. These days we’d recommend appropriate fire extinguishers for kitchens. Sand must be what your family used in case of fires, although it looks as though it’s never been used.”

  “Nice. I’d hate to clean up after using that lot. Shall I dump it in the skip?”

  “No, leave it by the fireplace for now. We can get rid of the sand later, but that old bucket looks in good nick. Might come in handy.”

  “What do you think we should we do about the pantry?”

  A narrow door at the end of the kitchen opened into a large walk-in cupboard with a few steps down to the floor. Empty shelving covered all three walls and a picture frame-sized window sat high up near the ceiling.

  “That’s your call, Lenny. Personally, I love these period features. Notice how naturally cooler it is in there, which is why in the past that’s where they’d have stored fresh goods—meat, butter, milk. But, of course, these days we have eco-friendly fridges for that kind of thing. Come on, give me hand getting this lot into the skip.”

  Once they finished clearing debris away, they worked separately in the living area. Adrian effortlessly tore up the linoleum from the floor then ripped off the plywood boards from one side of the fireplace. Leonard tried to keep up but was no match. Adrian worked quickly and efficiently, leaving Leonard huffing and puffing and swearing quietly to himself. But then, he told himself, this was what Adrian did for a living.

  “Are you okay over there?” asked Adrian.

  Leonard had been trying to lever the plywood away on the left side of the chimney stack, but the broad panel had been fixed in place securely, and trying to pull out the long nails with the hammer claw was proving tedious but also a challenge. Not only that, but there seemed to be something substantial behind the boarding, maybe loose bricks or debris. Concentrating carefully, he plugged away, attacking each side of the panel in turn, working from the top downwards.

  When he glanced over, Adrian had not only cleared the whole floor—with a pile of old linoleum broken into smaller pieces and the rest taken out to the skip—but already had the other boarding at the side of the fireplace removed. Just as he had guessed, they had uncovered a small nook of age-yellowed wallpaper with pretty, faded red flowers, hiding a stack of old but sturdy planks of wood.

  “You’re making me look like a rank amateur over here,” said Leonard. Adrian stopped what he was doing and studied the wall on Leonard’s side.

  “Why is the panelling bulging and tipping out like that, Lenny? Careful, it looks as though it’s moving. There must be something—”

  Barely had the words left his mouth when, with a series of cracking and popping sounds, the whole wooden panel began to come away from the wall. Leonard, taken by surprise, put his arms out and braced the front of his body against the flat panel to try to stop the wall falling. But whatever had been squashed in and hidden weighed a tonne.

  For a moment, he found himself struggling, staggered back a step, and feared the whole weight might fall on top of him.

  Suddenly Adrian stood right behind him, with his solid body pressed flush up against Leonard’s, his strong arms reaching out to stop the falling wall.

  They remained frozen that way for a few moments, Leonard because he was unsure what to do next. Until his mind stilled and his body began to betray him. Adrian’s chest and groin pressed up hard and tight against him, his head over Leonard’s left shoulder and his heavy breath brushing Leonard’s ear. Not surprisingly, strange things started to flutter through Leonard’s stomach, and he began to feel his cock hardening.

  “Is it me, or is this a tad awkward?” he said, trying to defuse the situation and tame his body’s auto-response.

  Adrian’s chuckle and the rumble in his chest only made matters worse for Leonard.

  “I’m not saying I’m not enjoying this, but maybe we should think of a plan of action before the walls come tumbling down, so to speak.”

  Once again Adrian’s laughter came, and this time Leonard felt sure something clicked in Adrian because he tried to pull his noticeably hardened groin away from Leonard’s backside.

  “Okay, listen,” said Adrian, becoming serious again. “I’ve got this. When I say so, we push together to get the panel back up. Then I’ll give you space so you can let go. While I hold everything in place, get a couple of those planks over there and hammer them across the top. That should shore this temporarily until we find a better solution.”

  “Can’t we both just step away and let the whole thing fall?”

  “We could. But I’m worried one of us might not get out of the way in time. Safety first, Lenny. It’s drummed into us on every building site. Let’s do the sensible thing, shall we?”

  As they pushed together, Leonard felt as though he had done very little, Adrian’s strength shifting the weighty structure effortlessly. Once they had the panel pushed back in place, Adrian kept his hands braced against the wall but stepped back a little to make space for Leonard to move. Instead of getting out of the way, Leonard rotated around one-eighty degrees until he had his back up against the partition, and faced Adrian.

  “Well, will you look at this? I have you in my complete control right now. I could have my evil way with you and there’s not a damn
thing you could do—”

  “Lenny!”

  Leonard jumped into action. He ducked out, grabbed the nearest thick plank of wood and placed it within easy reach. Adrian had left the toolbox open nearby, so Leonard grabbed the hammer and some fresh nails. Once he had hammered in one side just above Adrian’s right hand, Adrian moved his hand up to hold the board and the wall. When Leonard moved behind Adrian, his eyes could not help drifting over the muscled torso from behind—the thick-set shoulders and massive back, the muscled thighs and backside, the way his friend effortlessly supported the weight. Minutes later, he had the first plank in place, and Adrian let go.

  Adrian took over then, hammering more nails into the first plank before fixing the second far more securely and professionally. Eventually they both stood and surveyed their handiwork.

  “That should hold for now,” said Adrian. “We’re going to have to deal with it at some point, but I suggest we get some dust sheets, maybe one of those old mattresses to cover the floor beneath, so we’re ready when we let the damn thing go. Don’t want to damage any of these fantastic floorboards.”

  Before anything, they went into the hallway where they had propped both mattresses against a wall. Once they had one in place beneath the panel, Adrian began tidying up the room and vacuuming the floor.

  “I wonder what the hell is behind there,” said Leonard, from across the room, hands on hips, staring suspiciously at the panel.

  “Could be anything. But if the bodge job is anything to go by, it’s probably bricks or rubble or any other kind of rubbish they couldn’t be bothered to toss out.”

  “Do people do that kind of thing?”

  “All the time. One of my mates found an upright piano behind a wall once.”

  “Owner probably wasn’t a music lover. I’m just hoping it’s not a dead body?”

  “Wouldn’t be that heavy. Besides, I think we would know already if it had been a dead body. Rumour has it they give off a smell worse than your kitchen fridge when they’re decaying.”

  “You are a mine of wonderful information, Ade. At least I’ll sleep better tonight, knowing nobody got buried alive behind a wall.”

  “Talking of which, do you think we should call it a day?”

  Leonard checked his watch. Almost five-thirty.

  “Where the heck did the time go?” he asked, with shock as Adrian smirked at him. “I suppose we ought to think about dinner? We could drive into Llandrindod Wells. They’ve got a bigger selection of local restaurants, even a chippy, if that’s what you fancy?”

  “How about we go to the pub again? We know the beer’s good and it’s a nice evening, a bit cool, but not too cold to sit outside.”

  “Good plan. Shower first? Or shall we go as we are?”

  “I’m already hungry, and I’m not pleasant when I get hangry. Let’s have a quick wash and head out. I fixed the shower, by the way. Not only is your old boiler running fine, but the new shower attachment works like a dream. So let’s just wash up and go as we are. If we sit outside in the garden, Mrs Llewellyn surely won’t mind us wearing our work clothes.”

  “Done deal.”

  * * * *

  Adrian’s suggestion turned out to be a good one. In direct contrast to the previous week, the evening felt warm, and although the sun had begun to fade, enough light remained for them to sit out on a bench, enjoy a pint and hot dinner. Being Friday night, a few other people—probably locals—had decided to do the same.

  Leonard had not been overstating when he’d praised Adrian on his talent for sketching. The drawings not only demonstrated a clear understanding of space and design, at least from Leonard’s limited knowledge, but also showed an incredible sense of creativity. Leonard would have been happy to have any of them framed and on show in his home. As he turned again to the third of the bathroom layouts and nodded his approval, he looked up to find Adrian smiling at him. When he grinned back, another little quiver of excitement went through him, at peeling away another layer of this incredible but humble man.

  “Of course, this one might need work.” Adrian narrated each design to explain what he had set out to achieve. “For instance, you would need to make sure you’ve got exactly the right-sized appliances for the gaps between the fitted units.”

  Amazingly—bearing in mind Leonard could be very particular where design was concerned—they both agreed on the same layout choice for all rooms. Another small piece of a puzzle, of a picture Leonard had not quite visualised until then, fell into place.

  When Leonard returned from getting them a couple more pints, ones they decided would be their last because of the quickly fading light, Leonard ventured to ask something he had been purposely avoiding.

  “What happened to you that last year of school, Ade? My cousin said you disappeared off the face of the planet.” Leonard leant forwards and put his hand on Adrian’s forearm. “But if you don’t want to talk about it, then that’s fine. Tell me to mind my own business.”

  Adrian’s gaze veered away across the village green, and Leonard saw a slight sheen of sadness fill his eyes. Eventually, still looking into the distance, he spoke.

  “Honestly, Lenny, I don’t tell many people because I’m not proud of that period in my life. When some people come out to the people they love, they have a rough time. Others are accepted, some unconditionally. My coming out fell into the first category. Not sure if you remember, but my best friend at the time was Stephan Harrington.”

  Leonard remembered him. A well-built player, charismatic, with blond hair and blue eyes. Not as good-looking as Adrian but almost as popular. Where Adrian had looked puzzled at Lenny every time they’d passed each other, to Stephan, Lenny might as well have been invisible. He and Adrian had made for an eye-catching duo among their clump of less-remarkable followers.

  “So at fifteen, I was spotted by a talent scout for the Leeds rugby league club. That much everyone seems to know. I heard from them two days after we broke from school for the summer and remember being on such a high that day. No idea why, looking back, but at the same time, I came out to Stephan and told him I really liked him. You know, liked liked. Stupid, looking back, but I felt invincible that day. Anyway, at first he thought I was joking. After a while, though, I didn’t get quite the reaction I’d expected. I remember the disgust on his face and the words ‘You? You’re a fucking queer boy?’ coming out of his mouth. And the funny thing is that I was more shocked because, in all the time I’d known him, I’d never once heard him swear. Anyway, before I had a chance to think what to say, or to tell him to keep it to himself, he backed away and ran off, leaving me there, feeling shame, and guilt, and self-disgust. It’s only looking back now I realise I’d bottled those feelings up for years. But at that moment, all I’d wanted was for the world to rewind by an hour so I could keep my mouth shut and leave those words unspoken for the rest of my life.”

  Adrian let out a deep sigh and took a sip of beer before continuing.

  “Later, after walking around the town, I calmed down a bit, but got home to find my father waiting to confront me. Stephan’s father had phoned him, told him what had happened, and how I’d tried to seduce his son. My mother stood by watching, pale and drawn, tears in her eyes, and while my dad lectured me, she didn’t say a word.

  “When he asked me if it was true, I suppose I should have denied everything, told them Stephan had made a mistake. Because the truth was I hadn’t tried to corrupt him. But honestly, I thought they would just send me to my room, maybe make me go to confession with my mum, or ground me for a week.

  “Instead my father picked up the phone and dialled a number. For a second, I thought he was calling the police. But when he put the phone down, he told me that the next morning someone would come from God’s Path to pick me up and take me to a summer camp to help boys like me. Then he told me to go up to my room and pack a bag. Of course, I knew about the place. I’d overheard him talk about it when he thought I wasn’t listening, heard horror stories about kids w
ho had been sent there to be fixed.”

  “Conversion therapy?” asked Leonard.

  “Yeah. I didn’t know it was called that, but I knew what they did. When I tried to argue, he told me things I will never forget. Said that if I didn’t get cured, I would never be accepted as a man let alone a rugby player, because I would get laughed off the pitch. Worst of all, he said I would catch AIDS and die and go straight to hell. I didn’t argue back, but went upstairs to pack my rucksack and dig out all the money I’d saved and my passport. I could hear them talking downstairs. Felt like forever while I pretended to sleep in my bed in the dark until they’d gone to sleep.”

  “Fifteen years old, I remember standing outside that house, my home, at one in the morning, staring up at what until seconds before had been the window to my bedroom. My first impulse was to give in, head back and do as he had asked. But I stopped with my hand on the garden gate. Even back then, I knew who I was, knew that was never going to change. But now I knew how he felt about me and people like me. Some things once said can’t be taken back. I slept on a park bench that night.”

  “Didn’t you have anyone you could go to, any aunts or uncles?” asked Leonard.

  “Nobody locally. At least nobody I could think of. My Uncle Pat—my mother’s younger brother—lived somewhere in London. They didn’t have kids, and whenever they visited, we got on well. I never met any of my dad’s family. And everyone else I knew was either connected to school or the church. And honestly, I wasn’t thinking straight. If it hadn’t been the school holidays, I might have gone to see the school counsellor in the morning. But I was hurting, Lenny, and all I could think about was getting as far away from Drayton as I could, from everyone and everything, and never coming back.”

  “What did you do?”

  “The next morning I caught the first train to London. Naive really, but I thought I might be able to figure out where my uncle lived. Even though I had no phone number and no address. We’d driven there a couple of times, but I’d never paid attention, had slept most of the way. As you probably guessed, I wasn’t the brightest of students, because I’d pinned all my hopes on a future being a professional rugby player. All I remembered was the town they lived in had the word green in it somewhere. So the first place I went to was Green Park, in the heart of London. Of course, I didn’t recognise anything.”