Slowly making his way downstairs he halted in front of the hall mirror to examine his appearance and flick fingers through his hair. His eyes were still red and puffy from crying. Picking his sunglasses off the sideboard he put them on and walked into the kitchen where he acknowledged David’s greeting with a meagre nod of his head.
He sat down at the place set for him at the table in the dining nook, flinching as he lowered his sore bottom onto the hard chair seat. A ham salad sandwich and a sliced apple were put down in front of him. He wasn't in the least bit hungry, but he picked up the sandwich and began to eat. David had made clear that all he had to do was do as he was told. He’d been told to come down for lunch, to sit, to eat, and so he did.
David ate his own lunch, keeping thoughtful eyes on Lin. He'd sobbed in his arms after being punished, taking comfort from being held and cuddled, accepting of the discipline meted out, but it looked like resentment had edged back in.
When they’d both finished eating he stood up, stacking their plates. “How about some tea or coffee, and maybe trying one of my muffins. They’re still warm?”
Lin shook his head.
“Oh go on, how bad can they be?”
“No, thank you. I believe I’ve fulfilled my obligations of obedience as far as eating lunch is concerned. Nutrition has been served. I've had more than sufficient.”
“Fair enough, maybe later.” David carried the plates across to the sink to wash. He nodded towards the vase on the worktop next to the drainer. “Did you see the flowers Jeff brought? They’re a stunning colour. I’ll put them in the snug so we can enjoy them as they open out. They’ll look good in front of the hearth screen.”
The mention of Jeff darkened the shadow marring Lin’s countenance. It was thanks to Jeff he was sitting on what felt like a battalion of bee stings. “We ought to get Lee to supply our flowers. He could send them by courier, or on the train. We could collect them from the station at Whitersby. We don’t need Jeff when we have a friend in the floristry business. He'll probably give us a generous discount and we'd get a wider variety of flowers, something more exotic than the homespun variety Jeff grows.”
David filled a glass with water, taking a deep draught before replying. “It wouldn’t be practical, as you well know. We’d all end up out of pocket. Lee isn’t a wholesaler. He’s retail. He goes to people like Jeff to supply him.” He poured the remains of the water into a pot of basil standing on the windowsill. “Don't mention it again." He turned to look at Lin. "If you’re anything short of polite to Jeff next time he calls, you’ll regret it. The only person responsible for the spanking you’ve just received is you, so don’t go looking for scapegoats.”
Lin abruptly pushed his chair back and stood up. “I’m going out.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Lin immediately moderated his tone. “May I, please, into the garden? I take it that isn’t off limits along with the rest of the village?”
“You’re welcome to go into the garden for an hour while I finish off some work, but take warning, boy.” David’s words fell like snow. “Use the time to sort out your sulks, because if I find anything less than a pleasant attitude when I come to get you, you’re going right back over my knee. Is that succinct enough for you?”
Lin wanted to say. ‘Well, I’d hardly call it a concise sentence in itself, but yes, the meaning contained within it, is more than to the point.’ But he didn’t. Pushing his sunglasses further up his nose he said, “yes, David,” before striding out into the garden.
Shaking his head, David went to the snug, shutting the door with a snap behind him. Sometimes Lin stretched his patience beyond its limits, prickly, contradictory man.
Red Sky by Morning
Eleven
Lin wandered around the sultry garden, his t-shirt making a damp miserable statement against his back. The building heat was draining his energy as well as highlighting the prickling pain of his backside. David had not held back. Tears stung his eyes again. It was the harshest corporal punishment he'd ever received from him. He reached back to touch the seat of his shorts, feeling the heat from his inflamed buttocks radiating through the thin fabric. He tried giving a gentle rub, but it made it worse instead of better. He'd a good mind to use the evil fucking paddle as a board to chop and crush garlic on. The smell might deter David from using it.
In an effort at distraction he began picking herbs: lemon thyme, lavender and cologne mint, to make up into bunches for scenting the linen cupboard and deterring moths.
“Now then, Mr Larkin-Jordan. It’s much too late in the day to be picking herbs. You won’t get any flavour out of them. The oils will have evaporated.”
“Hello, Mr Medup.” Lin gave a faint smile, looking up at the weather-beaten face peering over the garden wall. Henry Medup was the only person who attached him and David in such a way. Despite how he felt about his man at this moment in time he liked the attachment.
He wasn’t altogether sure why Henry called him by both his own and David’s surname. Maybe it was a way of acknowledging and understanding their relationship, legitimising it as a kind of marriage, marriage being something a man of his generation could clearly relate to.
“Morning’s the best time to pick herbs for cunning use, just after the dew has dried. You should know that better than anyone, being a cook an' all.”
Lin assumed he meant culinary use and responded accordingly. “I’m not intending to use them for cooking, Mr. Medup.” Chance would be a fine thing, he thought sourly. “They're for scenting the linen cupboard.”
“Still won’t smell as fine as the ones you pick at the right time of day.”
Lin didn’t argue. It was easier to let the old man have the last word. He’d have it anyway. There was a saying: ‘you can allus tell a Yorkshireman, but you can’t tell him much!’ “Was there something you wanted, Mr Medup?”
“I was hoping to see David. Is he about?”
As ever, Lin bristled at the use of his partner's Christian name. Mr, not-lived-here-for-five-bloody-minutes, Jordan seemed to be more a part of the community than he who had been born here. Aside from those whom he dealt with on a business level nearly everyone in the village called him David. No one seemed inclined to address him by first name. Lin wilfully blocked out that he seldom offered people use of his first name.
He crushed a stalk of lavender between his fingers releasing its perfume. And why did everyone want to see David, but no one ever sought out his wit, wisdom or company. Even Tony and Lee tended to ask for David first when they phoned the house. He replied to Henry's query with a short, “he’s working.”
“Shame. My bees would have liked to see him. Speak highly of him they do.”
Lin resisted an impulse to say, ‘oh yes, and what do they say besides buzz-buzz?’ Instead he pulled at his damp t-shirt, saying irritably. “I’ll tell him you were asking.”
Henry gazed thoughtfully at his neighbour who seemed more than usually out of sorts, probably the heat. It didn’t suit some folk, too much heat, especially high-strung types like this one. Allus been the same he had, even when he was a bairn, going off by himself and hiding away, worrying his gran who had enough to worry about with his mam. Away with the fairies most of the time she was. “Don’t go fretting thissen, Mr Larkin-Jordan. Fresher weather is coming. Did you see the red sky this morning?”
Lin nodded. "It's a bad portent isn't it, unlucky?"
"It's nowt o' the sort. It's a warning for fishing folk, but a good one for them what heeds it. It tells sailors there's a storm somewhere about, far out at sea and it's best if they go canny. For us land dwellers it's a good sign too, especially in weather like this. A storm out at sea means rain will soon push in. My bees reckon it'll be with us by nightfall, if not before. It’ll cool the air far better than that other spite and fury storm we had.”
“Thank goodness.” Lin forced a smile. “It’s been altogether too hot and uncomfortable for me of late.”
“Aye well.” Henr
y gave a sage nod. “Life’s like that sometimes, don’t tek it to heart.” He glanced back over his shoulder as a voice sounded from within the house. “There’s our Elsie shouting. I'd better see what’s happening. I hope she hasn’t slaughtered one of my bloody workers again. Allus swiping and bashing at ‘em she is. I keep telling her they’re harmless, which is more than can be said for her. She’s worse than one of them cycle path killers you read about in the papers. Talking of papers I'm glad them nebby reporters have gone, upset my bees they did with their sneaky questions. They got nowt out of us.”
He suddenly gave Lin a keen look. “Why don’t you step over and visit me one of these days, Mr Larkin-Jordan. My bees would like a chance to get a good look at you. You’ve lived back here for a while now and never once introduced yourself to them. It’s high time. They won’t bite you.”
“But will they sting, Mr Medup?”
Henry gave his characteristic toothless grin. “Bit like your fella, only if you give them cause and provocation. You come and say hello to them. They know things about you they do.”
“Barmy old bugger,” muttered Lin as he watched him clop down his garden path towards his house, his ancient sandals more a safety hazard than a form of footwear. Resuming his interrupted herb picking he allowed a small smile at the thought of Henry’s sister turning into a bike-riding bee killer. He couldn’t wait to tell David. He'd also jot it down in his notebook. It would make a nice little anecdote to slip into a future cookbook, alongside a recipe featuring honey as an ingredient.
The sound of the phone ringing in the kitchen caught his attention and he went to answer it. Once David was engrossed in work he’d be hard pressed to hear a fire bell going off, never mind a telephone. Besides it was too hot to stay outside. His face was already tingling where the sun had scorched it. He should have put sun block on.
Hopefully the caller would offer some distraction from how wretched he felt, as long as it wasn’t David’s mother, or worse, Lin curled his lip, his stuck-up brother, Giles. It was neither.
After talking a while with Lydia and being at his charming best, if only to compensate her for having to talk with him instead of David, whom she'd asked for first, Lin moved restlessly around the kitchen.
He scooped a handful of crushed ice from the box in the freezer, sucking it and then rubbing some over his face, soothing and cooling the skin. It gave him an idea. Shoving down his shorts he did the same to his backside, gingerly rubbing handfuls of ice over his marked buttocks. Ice soon returned to water, trickling chilly rivers down his throbbing thighs, giving a few moments of blissful respite from stinging heat.
He decided to clean the fridge, going through the contents, throwing out things that were not as fresh as they ought to be, by his standards anyway. Then he cleaned the interior and wiped all the bottles and jars with a damp cloth sprayed with antibacterial cleaner.
Standing at the sink rinsing the cloth, he caught sight of the gladioli Jeff had brought. David was right. They were indeed a beautiful colour. He gently fingered the lower petals and then pinched out the very top buds, the way Lee had shown him, to encourage all the other buds on the long stems to fully open out.
After chewing indecisively at his thumbnail for a few seconds, he picked up the vase and carried it to the snug, placing it on the hearth before walking across to the long desk where David was working at the computer. “Am I disturbing you? I’ll make like one of Henry’s bees and buzz off if I am?”
David felt his mood lighten by several shades as Lin’s arms came around his neck. “You’re more of a wasp than a bee, it’s your duty to disturb me.” Pushing his chair back he drew Lin onto his lap, parting his legs so his tender backside didn’t come into hard contact with his thighs. “Are you feeling better?”
“Not really.” Lin winced.
David gave the wince the lack of attention it deserved. "I was thinking about making a cup of tea, would you like one?”
“I’d prefer a nice cold beer or a glass of chilled wine?”
“Tempting I admit, but it’s too early for alcohol. You’ll end up with a splitting headache by dinnertime.”
“True. I’ll pass on the tea though.”
“You don’t drink nearly enough fluids. It’s no wonder you get so tetchy. You’re probably dehydrated.” David made no attempt to eject Lin from his knee, much preferring the cuddle to making a cup of tea. He brushed his fingers through Lin’s hair. “This really is too long now, darling. It needs a good trim, at least an inch off the bottom. I’ll make you an appointment on Monday morning.”
“I’m growing it.”
“You’re getting it cut. It irritates you when it gets too far past your collar, which means you’ll irritate everyone else. You’ll have to accept that Julia has left Sachs and trust one of the other stylists to do it. They’re all qualified. You liked the way the new lad Adam cut mine. I could make you an appointment with him.”
“I’ve seen the way Adam looks at you. He fancies you. He’ll cut my hair badly to try and put you off me. He'll make me look old.”
David looked surprised. “He’s gay?”
“For heaven’s sake, man.” Lin rolled his eyes. “Wake up and view the rainbow. He works wearing nothing but a pair of white shorts, a crop top and a set of roller blades. Of course he’s gay. If he were any gayer he’d be positively euphoric.”
David laughed. “He’s a poseur I admit, but it doesn’t mean he’s gay, just young and self-aware. The shorts and top might be because the salon is hot and the blades help him scoot between clients faster.”
“Het boys do not do crop tops or wear white shorts without underwear. Trust me, he’s gay, he fancies you and he's not cutting my hair.” Lin abruptly changed the subject. “May I make dinner for us tonight? I’d like to. You haven't allowed me to cook since Tuesday.”
"Is that a roundabout way of saying you're sick of my simple offerings?"
"Yes."
David considered, and then nodded. “All right, on one condition.”
“What condition?”
“You don’t shout and bang around. One bad tempered word, screech or thrown object and I'll spank you again, Lin, I mean it. You also delegate and let me help, even if its just peeling veg, and we have my muffins as dessert.”
“That’s three conditions.”
“So sue me for wrongful accounting.”
“Some cases you can’t win.”
“You're a wise man. My influence must be rubbing off at last. I'll tame you yet. Raising Lin’s hand to his lips, David placed a kiss upon it. "What are you going to cook?"
"Depends what you fancy, fish or meat?" Lin stroked his fingers through David's hair.
"I have a fancy for a nice juicy steak. There's some fillet in the freezer."
"Meat eh? My fish dishes are boring is that what you're saying?"
David narrowed his eyes. "Behave. Go and get the steak out of the freezer and while you're in the kitchen you can make me a cup of tea."
Red Sky by Morning
Twelve
Wiping his mouth on a napkin David leaned back in his chair with a contented sigh. "Wonderful. I love your steak au poivre, and the parsnip and aubergine chips were delicious too. Thank you."
"I thought the steaks were overdone and I put too much brandy in the sauce. I'm definitely losing my touch."
"They were perfect, and you've eaten everything so it can't have been too bad." He stood up. "Are you ready for dessert now?"
“I don’t think I can manage one, David. I’m rather full.”
“Don’t be a spoilsport.” David went to the cupboard where the dishes were kept and got out two dessert bowls, carrying them over to the table along with the plate of muffins, putting them down on the table with pride. “Try one." He put one in a bowl and put it in front of Lin. "They’re rather good, especially with cream.”
Lin eyed the raspberry muffin with all the enthusiasm of a carnivore contemplating a nut cutlet. “In whose judgment?”
<
br /> “I like them.”
“Well you would.”
Fighting a fast developing desire to deal a sharp slap to his peevish partner's bottom, David tried an appeal to his vanity. “I'd value your professional opinion, if you don't mind.”
“Why didn’t you say so then?" Picking up a cake fork Lin stabbed it into the muffin, breaking it apart, critically examining the pieces. He transferred some into his mouth and chewed it thoughtfully. “Hmm, the texture is a tad wet. You’ve been too heavy-handed with the oil. Less rather than more is the secret.”
He took another forkful, chewed, swallowed and pulled a condescending face. “Slightly oversweet too, could do with a modicum less sugar. You should have trusted the chocolate and raspberries to naturally sweeten the mixture.” He patted David’s hand. “Otherwise they're not bad. We might make an adequate cook out of you yet.”
“Thank you,” said David humbly.
“You’re welcome.” Lin pushed the half-eaten muffin aside and picked up the bottle of wine, tilting it. "Not much left, a glass at most. I'll open another one.”
“You will not. You've had enough.” David sequestered the bottle, screwing the top back on. “And so have I. We're going out for a walk. The exercise and fresh air will do us both the world of good.”
"What fresh air, it's like a sauna out there." Lin leaned back in his chair, folding his arms, his face sulky. “Anyway, I thought I was confined to ship?”
“You are, we aren’t. Put your shoes on. We’ll clear up when we get back."
"I don't feel like walking, it's too hot. Go on your own."
A frown drew David's dark eyebrows together. "I didn't ask what you felt like, Lin. I told you to put your shoes on, so do it, or do we need to have another discussion on the subject of obedience?"
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