Veering off Course (The Navigation Quartet Book 1)

by Chris Cheek

  After a moment or two, David turned and looked up, realising what was about to happen. Alan’s eyes met his and they exchanged a brief smile. Alan relaxed and tapped a spoon against his glass to call for silence; fortunately people responded immediately. He closed his eyes for a moment, swallowed hard and began to speak.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, it gives me great pleasure tonight to welcome you on behalf of Tris and Ian, and to propose a toast to their future happiness. As you all know, legislation is making its way through Parliament this summer to allow same-sex civil partnerships from next year – not before time, I may say.” This drew a ripple of applause and a good few “hear, hears” from his audience. “Tris and Ian have already made promises to each other. They tell me that they plan to use the law as soon as possible next year to make honest men of each other.”

  This drew more heckling from friends below, such as “about time too” and “impossible”. “Don’t they need an uncivil partnership?” one wag called out.

  “We’ll look forward very much to all that happening,” Alan continued.

  “Great excuse for another booze-up,” somebody yelled, to more laughter.

  “That’s your invitation trashed, Fletcher,” Alan responded, to more laughter. “Meanwhile, the chaps wanted to celebrate their resolve to join their futures together, which is why we’re here tonight.

  “I’ve known both of them for more than five years. During that time I’ve shared a flat with Tris and been a colleague of Ian’s. I’ve benefited enormously from their kindness, patience and generosity of spirit, and I count myself immensely lucky to have met both of them and to be able to call them my friends. I know that you all do too.” More shouts of “hear, hear”. “So, I know you’ll want to join me in wishing them both every happiness in their future life together. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Tris and Ian!”

  The toast was drunk and Alan’s efforts duly applauded. Both Tris and Ian embraced him before they stepped forward to reply, each speaking in turn.

  Alan looked for David again. He was still standing in the same spot with a gentle, almost wistful smile on his face as he listened to the speeches. He looked up once more and caught Alan’s eye, mouthing “well done” up to him.

  The speeches over, Alan made his way down the stairs, receiving slaps on the back and other plaudits for his efforts. He found David and immediately wrapped his arms round him. “One day, Davy. One day, that’ll be us, I hope.”

  He felt rather than saw a nod as David clung to him.

  “We’ve got to keeping believing that, whatever happens,” Alan added.

  Another nod. They separated a little, and Alan caught sight of the unshed tears in David’s eyes. Alan pulled him closer, hanging on more fiercely before speaking quietly into his ear. “Come on, let’s disappear upstairs. You must be exhausted, and you’re driving again tomorrow.”

  He got another nod.

  ***

  “Tris said he thought you were going to run away. That’s why he came out. You weren’t actually going to bail on me, were you, Davy?”

  They were lying together in one of Tris’s spare bedrooms – Alan’s old room, in fact. They were grateful for their host’s invitation to stay, even if the party was still going on downstairs. It was a lot easier to sleep there than trail back to Clapham.

  “Yeah, I was petrified,” David replied. “For a start I’d never been in a London taxi before – that was scary enough. But when we got here, it all seemed totally alien. All those complete strangers and their posh accents.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t believe it. It was all so … terrifying. Not for me at all. Besides, I was still full of tension from the journey and very tired.”

  “Yes, I get that. Poor old Davy.”

  “I was just about to turn away when I caught sight of Tris coming down the steps. He was so kind. What a nice man he is.”

  Alan nodded, “The best.”

  “Mind you, I don’t know what I’d have done if he hadn’t come out at that moment. Wandered off into the night, I suppose… Who knows?” David suddenly grinned. “I suppose you could say that the only thing that kept me rooted to the spot was the thought of getting a cuddle from you.”

  “I can understand that. I am world famous for my cuddles,” Alan replied modestly.

  This prompted a snort from David. “Modest as ever, I see.”

  “Always,” Alan said with a grin, before turning serious again. “Simon said something about bitchy remarks. What was that all about?”

  “Oh, I’m your bit of rough, apparently. Chosen for being thick … in all senses of the word.”

  “Christ, Davy, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault. Anyway, you must admit that there’s an element of truth in it. What on earth was a Yorkshire coach driver doing at a swanky place like this?”

  “You’re here because you’re an amazing man and I love you. I told you the other day, we make our own world, you and I. Fuck the rest of them – especially prissy snobs like those two.”

  “Yes, but…”

  “No buts, Davy. You can hold your head up in any circle. Tris and Ian really took to you, and Peter and Simon already think the world of you. You mustn’t run yourself down. In any case, it’s you and me against the rest. Always has been, always will be.” Alan reached across and pulled David into a full hug, then drew back to look him in the eye. “Right?”

  “Right,” David responded, managing to sound more certain than he felt.

  Chapter 29

  David

  Two weeks later, David’s roster meant that he was in London on a Friday night again. Alan had promised to take him on a proper date the next time his overnight fell at a weekend, and this was to be the night. He had made plans to make it a special occasion, too, which entailed going to the theatre and out for supper afterwards.

  Alan had sorted out the details in a couple of hurried, rather furtive phone calls to David’s mobile. It was difficult, though: depending on where he was at the time of the call, David had to be careful to keep his voice neutral and his remarks formal. Alan had quickly grasped what was going on – and made some of his remarks distinctly provocative. If his aim had been to get David to blush, he certainly succeeded, especially when he told him in some detail how he proposed to spend their evening together once they got back to the flat.

  The call ended in laughter as Mona came into the room having put the boys to bed. She looked at him quizzically but David avoided her eye. How did you tell the woman who was your wife and the mother of your children that you no longer loved her and wanted to go off to live with another man?

  The short answer was that you didn’t. At least not until you absolutely had to. He was still prevaricating and occasionally berating himself for his cowardice but, in the end, what with the distractions of work and the demands of two lively little boys, there wasn’t much room in either of their lives for existential conversations or discussions about relationships.

  Friday duly arrived and David left home shortly after lunch to report for duty. When he pulled onto the stand in the bus station he had a bit of a shock for there, at the head of the queue, was Douggie Thorpe, the depot’s union chairman. He and David had not been on the best of terms since the row over driver selection for the London contract a couple of months earlier. He seemed friendly enough today, though.

  Douggie explained that he and his wife were going down to London for a weekend to see his wife’s sister. “She wants to see some bloody musical or other,” he moaned to David, “so I had to bring her in the end.”

  The journey south was uneventful. The motorway was busy but the fact that it was Saturday meant fewer lorries, so the roads seemed that bit more spacious. David pulled into the Victoria terminal dead on time and dropped everyone off. Douggie and his wife thanked him for a good run. David, in turn, wished them a pleasant weekend.

  Having parked up, he made his way to Alan’s. There was no time tonight for an extended hello kiss as they had to be r
eady and back into Central London for curtain up.

  David had been looking forward to this all week. His only other experience of the theatre had been an annual visit to the pantomime with the local scout group – accompanied by Alan, funnily enough. He remembered enough about those visits to know that he liked live theatre a lot, so this was going to be great.

  The show was The Producers, Mel Brooks’ stage musical adaptation of his own film. As boys, David and Alan had loved the original film, counting it – alongside the same man’s spoof western Blazing Saddles – as one of the funniest comedies they’d ever seen.

  Simply sitting in the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane was a treat; even though the auditorium seated some 2,000 people, the atmosphere was intimate and warm. David’s excitement was palpable as he looked around. He could barely sit still and felt a strong need to have some physical contact with Alan all the time – thighs or calves together, hand on arm or shoulder to shoulder, it didn’t matter as long as there was a connection. It was as if he needed to prove to himself that he was awake and not dreaming it all.

  As the overture began and the lights went down, he reached for Alan’s hand and held on to it with an almost vice-like grip for the rest of the first half. When the show’s first big number began, David felt his jaw drop and the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Tears sprang to his eyes. He was at his first ever West End musical, and he was totally hooked within the first two minutes.

  ***

  “No need to ask whether you enjoyed that,” Alan said, as he returned, beaming, from the bar with their drinks.

  They were standing in one of the most famous gay pubs in London’s West End. David had been admiring the extravagant etched-glass decorations whilst Alan was at the bar – not to mention gawping at some of the more extravagant clientele.

  David could not stop smiling. “Fantastic. Magical. Hilarious. What can I say? I loved every minute. Thank you so much for bringing me.”

  “My pleasure, Davy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look as happy as you did in there tonight. Talk about stage struck.” Alan shot him an affectionate look before glancing at his watch. “Peter and Simon should be here any minute then we can go and have some supper. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

  “Yeah, it’s a long time since my sausage roll at Leicester Services.”

  Peter and Simon walked into the pub at that moment. They had been to a different show and Alan had arranged to meet them for supper. As a special treat, he had booked the four of them into The Ivy, one of London’s most famous theatrical restaurants.

  After hugs all round, Peter and Simon declined a drink in the interests of getting to the food more quickly, so they moved towards the pub exit. Alan and David were holding hands. Simon moved closer to David and put his arm round his waist. “And how’s my favourite coach driver, then?”

  “Bloody great,” David responded. As they crossed the threshold onto the pavement, he leant in and kissed Simon on the cheek. “The show was fantastic. I was blown away!”

  “Oh, I am so glad. Alan’s been on tenterhooks all week in case you absolutely hated it.”

  David turned from Simon, intending to speak to Alan, but what he saw on the pavement in front of him brought him to a sudden and complete standstill. For there, with a look of utter disgust on his face, stood Douggie Thorpe. As he recognised David, his expression changed to a half smile. But the eyes gleamed with malice.

  “Bet your Mona’ll be interested to hear about this,” he said with a sneer. “Fucking queer. I hate you lot.” He turned on his heel and walked off in the opposite direction, dragging his confused wife behind him.

  “Oh shit. That’s torn it,” David said looking at his three friends.

  “Who…?” began Alan.

  “That was Douggie Thorpe, the union chairman. At the depot, I mean. He’ll bloody love this.”

  “Oh fuck.”

  “Yeah, you might well say that. The shit will really hit the fan now.”

  ***

  “He might not tell anybody, Davy.”

  “And pigs might fly. Come off it, Al. Did you not see the look on his face?”

  They were back at the Clapham flat, sitting on the sofa. David was bolt upright, his body rigid with fear. Alan rubbed his forearm gently to try to ease his tension. They had continued with the visit to The Ivy and enjoyed their meal – but the sight of Douggie Thorpe and his hostile reaction had robbed the evening of its magic. David had found it difficult to respond cheerfully to the other three. The joy he had felt during and after the show had been taken from him, as if fate had switched the light off and plunged him into the darkest of moods. It had been a cruel blow, the sight of that one man and the evident malice in his reaction.

  “It’s my own fault. I’ve been putting off telling Mona for weeks – I couldn’t think what to say. In any case, I was sure I’d never get the words out. I dithered about and now look what a mess I’ve landed myself in. Fucking idiot, I am.”

  “You mustn’t blame yourself, Davy,” Alan responded quickly, moving closer to him and putting an arm round his shoulder. “I keep telling you, it’s bloody difficult stuff all this. I’m not surprised you couldn’t find the words.”

  David felt some of the tension leave his body as he relaxed into Alan’s embrace. When he spoke again, there was a note of resignation in his voice. “No, well… The damage is done now.” He let out a short bark of laughter. “I suppose it’ll save me having to find the words.”

  “I suppose you could always ring her. Try to soften the blow,” Alan mused, but David shook his head.

  “I couldn’t tell her over the phone, Al.”

  “No, I suppose not. Except that at least she’d find out from you – not local gossip.”

  “We’re back to finding the words, though, Al. How do you say it? Christ!” Suddenly, David collapsed like a tissue plunged into water. His hands came up to his face, and he began to sob.

  Alan reached round and drew him into a hug, trying to offer comfort and to reduce his pain. David immediately felt a little better. As the moments passed, his sobs subsided and he calmed down.

  He sat up, wiped his eyes and blew his nose. “I’m sorry, Al. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just … you know.”

  Alan nodded. “I do, old son. I do. I wish there was something I could say or do that would make it better.”

  Another thought struck David, and he carried on as if Alan hadn’t spoken. “And what about Mum and Dad? Christ, I’ll bet somebody will pass it on to them as quick as Mona. Oh, fuck!”

  “You could always ring Jen. About your mum and dad, I mean.”

  David brightened. “Aye, I could that.” He reached for his phone but quickly realised the time. “But not at half past one in the morning.”

  Alan tightened his grip on David’s shoulders. “Come on, then, it’s time we tried to get some sleep. You’ve got a coach to drive home tomorrow and all this lot to face. I only wish I could come with you.”

  “Not home, Al. I’m not going home, only back to Yorkshire. My home’s with you now.”

  Chapter 30

  Alan

  They awoke simultaneously the following morning in response to Alan’s bedside alarm. Rather to their surprise, they had both fallen asleep virtually straight away the previous night and had slept through. Now, as they lay still, wrapped in each other’s arms, they came to terms with the start of the new day. Inevitably, the import of last night’s events broke into their consciousness once more.

  Alan could feel David’s body tense in his embrace but when he looked at his facial expression, the fear and worry that he had seen the previous night had disappeared. It had been replaced by a look of fierce determination. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  David nodded. “Just before I went to sleep, I suddenly realised that this here – what we have together – is what matters now. I can’t stop all the other shit – that’s going to happen whatever. I’ve got to get through this, but I can do it know
ing you’re here for me. And we’ve got the rest of our lives together.” He moved from Alan’s embrace, got up quickly and grabbed his mobile. “Time to start. Need to talk to Jen sooner rather than later, I think.”

  Alan lay back in bed, full of admiration for the grim resolve on David’s face as he speed-dialled his sister. The next few days were going to be bloody difficult, but he was sure that David would be able to cope in the end.

  The phone at the other end was obviously picked up quickly. “Jen? It’s David. Sorry it’s so early, but I’ve got a problem…’

  David wandered from the room so Alan could not hear the rest of what he told Jennifer, but he could hazard a pretty good guess. Jennifer and Alan had never been close as youngsters, but she had tolerated him as her brother’s pal. Alan had always known that she was intensely loyal to her siblings and fiercely protective of David. She would be critical of David’s hesitation in telling his wife and his parents about his sexuality, a hesitation that could only make this new situation infinitely worse, but he was confident that ultimately she would understand and help as much as she could. Alan did not know her husband Mark at all but, from all David had said, he sounded like a good guy. And he knew his stuff on the HR side. That might come in very useful.

  Alan lay back on the bed, hearing the rumble of David’s voice. Meanwhile, he replayed David’s words from the previous night. “My home’s with you now.” Even now, twelve hours later, Alan felt the impact of those words. At the time, he had swallowed hard and looked his old school friend in the eye. “Christ, Davy. That’s a bloody wonderful thing to say. Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. I mean it. You’re stuck with me now good and proper, Alan Foreshaw. You might as well get used to it. Especially since, after tomorrow, I may not have much of a choice.”

  Whatever happened today and over the next few days, Alan would remember those words and take comfort from them. He feared he was going to need it.

  Eventually, David’s conversation came to an end and he reappeared in the bedroom, looking surprisingly bright. “She’s going round to Mum and Dad’s straight away. She wasn’t best pleased with me for havering about, but she understood why. She says Mum and Dad will be upset but will probably come round – they’ve suspected for years, apparently, and were always fond of you. But they’ll be frantic about the boys, and the thought that they might never see them again.”