by Chris Birch
He was clearly having a great time. I looked behind me as we waited at the bar, all of our group had smiles on their faces. I was just relieved it hadn’t offended anyone.
Derek’s stag do had been the first time I had gone out for a drink in town since the bank conference. It wasn’t through lack of offers, since moving to Cardiff my old friends from Bargoed were always asking if we could go on a night out in the city.
'We can all crash at yours afterwards, can’t we?' Paul had suggested when he called me to catch up.
I had brushed him off, pretending I was too busy with my new role at work but I think he knew I was making excuses. The disappointment was clear in his voice. I had hoped when I left Bargoed they would forget about me but they were clearly pretty loyal friends because they hadn’t. I knew none of them would understand my new life. I imagined telling them I was gay, having hours of conversations where they would probably laugh and then tease me. I would have to convince them that I was a different person and then let them get to know the knew me, it seemed too exhausting. I still didn’t like football, rugby, cars, or, any of the other things they were interested in. It just seemed easier to let the friendships slowly die out. Some of the lads had already stopped contacting me, I knew it wasn’t going to be long before Paul followed suit.
With the absence of my old friends and Tom busy with his girlfriend, I didn’t have a lot of people to hang out with. So, one evening after work, I decided to go out on my own. Unlike before the stroke, when I would have been nervous to go out without a gang of friends around me, I felt excited to explore the nightlife of Cardiff and see some new faces.
Walking down the high street that evening I tried to get the measure of each bar I passed, to work out where I would fit in. One place, with an illuminated sign above it caught my eye. There was a group of people mingling outside who looked smart, a guy by the window smiled at me. Let’s give it a go, I thought.
I walked through the door and was immediately greeted by a blonde woman with a very low-cut top on.
'Want to put your coat in love?' she asked, her friendly smile was so wide I could see all of her teeth.
'Yeah, great.’
She looked behind me, noticed there was no queue and shot me another smile.
'Here on your own?'
‘Yeah.’
'Haven’t seen you here before,' she said and took a ticket from beside her and pinned it onto my jacket.
'No, I’ve moved to the city recently, don’t really know anyone here.’
She stopped still and looked at me sympathetically.
'Oh, well I have my break in ten minutes, I’ll come and have a drink with you, if you like?'
As easily as that I had made a new friend.
Tracey was the chattiest person I had ever met. In the time it had taken me to drink one vodka and coke I discovered that she was a single mum, lived in Cardiff and worked in the cloakroom whilst her mum babysat her kids.
'I work funny hours so I often leave work late, ready to go for a drink and all my friends are tucked up in bed,' she sighed.
I realised we already had something in common, loneliness.
'You out on the pull then?' she teased.
Despite the fact I had just met her there was something familiar about Tracey, a maternal feeling that made it easy to confide in her.
'Nah, to be honest, I’ve just sort of, come out, so i’m taking things easy.’
‘Oh, good on you love, sounds very sensible.’
'Anyway love, better get back, if you are still here when I finish I’ll come and find you,' she grinned.
I spent the next hour sat next to the bar taking in my surroundings, it was nice to be one anonymous face in a sea of strangers. I watched a group of lads come in, claim a booth of seats and loudly shout orders over to the bar.
'Come on mate, ten sambucas, over here, make it snappy,’ one shouted whilst clapping his hands.
The whole atmosphere in the room changed, the calmness disappeared and their loud guffaws and bellows seemed to ruffle everyone.
'There’s always that one group of lads,' the barman sighed, he looked at me and rolled his eyes. I shot him back a sympathetic smile. He doesn’t realise, I thought, staring at the group who were now ogling a woman next to them, before the stroke that would have been me.
I felt a hand on my shoulder, turned and saw Tracey’s face.
'Fancy getting a drink somewhere else?' she said, pointing her head towards the loud group.
'Sounds good.’
That night Tracey and I shared brief histories of our lives, we danced, laughed and shared phone numbers, promising to meet up again. I’ve made my first real friend, I realised, and it’s me she likes, not old Chris.
I had been looking forward to Mum’s wedding, if nothing else it would be a chance to see her. I called her a few times but always got her voicemail, she would text me back a few days later explaining that she was busy but it felt like she was avoiding me.
A week before the wedding I sent Mum a text and asked her if I could bring a friend along. Tracey and I had become close and I thought it would be nice for her to meet my family.
What kind of friend? Mum replied.
I frowned as I read her message and wondered what she meant.
A new friend, thought it might be nice for you to meet them, I wrote.
Think it’s best if it’s just family, Mum replied.
Suddenly it dawned on me. Does she think I want to bring a guy? Why would that be a problem?
The situation felt awkward so I didn’t question her anymore. Perhaps there isn’t room for any more guests, I reasoned.
Their wedding was being held at a registry office and when I arrived Derek was waiting outside the room shaking hands with family members. Simon grinned from behind him and walked towards me.
'Hiya Si,' I smiled and patted him on the shoulder, it was the first time I had seen him in weeks.
'We better go in now,' Derek announced by the side of me..
I dutifully followed him down the aisle and then stood next to him, opposite a huge display of pink flowers. I took in my surroundings and then, noticing the buzz of chatter from the guests behind us, realised we had been standing in silence for minutes.
‘How do you feel?' I asked, trying to make small talk whilst we waited for Mum to arrive down the aisle.
‘Fine.’
It was clear he didn’t want to chat. He must just be nervous, I assumed and carried on waiting in silence. Then, the crowd behind us fell silent, I looked behind me and the registry doors opened, Mum appeared in an ivory dress. Her hair that was usually scraped behind her ears had been blow-dried, her face was illuminated with makeup. It was so good to see her. Mum looked straight past me towards Derek, they were locked in a stare as she floated towards him down the aisle.
At the wedding reception family that I hadn’t spoken to for months crowded around me, I got almost as much attention as Mum. I still wasn’t sure whether or not Mum had told the rest of the family that I was gay so I didn’t know what I could, or couldn’t, say. I awkwardly answered their questions and noticed Mum lurking beside me, it felt like she was monitoring what I was telling them. So, under the watchful eye of Mum, I updated them, leaving out my biggest news.
'I’ve got a new job at the bank, I’m working with the public now,' I explained.
'Oh that doesn’t sound like you Christopher,' my Nan chided.
I had to stop myself. I wanted to say, it is me Nan, I’ve changed. Being with my family again was like going right back to after I had suffered the stroke. They hadn’t moved on and I had.
Every time I tried to sit down with Simon and start a conversation Mum would suddenly appear at my side.
'Could you just help me with something Simon?' she asked, dragging him away from me.
The first time I thought nothing of it but as she continued keeping us apart I began to wonder why. Is the trying to stop me from telling Simon i’m gay? I wondered.
I had no idea if my family knew I was gay, or not. None of them acted strangely towards me but then, I reasoned, they could have been avoiding the awkward subject. I wondered if Mum had kept my news to herself. Does she think if she doesn’t tell anyone then we can keep it a secret forever? I wondered, that it will somehow go away?
For the first time I realised that perhaps Mum wasn’t as fine with me being gay as I had first thought. I tried to be understanding. It’s a huge bombshell for her to get her head around, I reasoned. Just give her time, all she needs is a bit more time.
Chapter Thirteen: The Next Step
After the weirdness of Mum’s wedding I was glad to be back in my house in Cardiff. Most of the people at work now knew that I was gay. I hadn’t told all off them but word had slowly worked it’s way around. I didn’t mind, none of my colleagues acted differently towards me and it meant that I didn’t have to personally have the ‘coming out,’ conversation with dozens of people. In fact, everyone was so accepting that I began to feel like it was time to take the next step. It was all very well being attracted to men but I hadn’t actually done anything about my feelings. What if I kissed a guy and realised that I didn’t like that either?
'You need to go on a date,' Tracey suggested one night, passing me a glass of wine.
We were sat on the sofa in her flat, her kids were upstairs in bed and we were tucking into a takeaway.
'I know I do, I just, I don’t know how,' I admitted.
'But you said you used to go on loads of dates.’
'That was with girls. I don’t know how to date men.’
'Do you think it will be that different?'
'That’s the problem,' I sighed, 'I have absolutely no idea'.
I felt like an inexperienced teenager going through puberty again, dating men seemed terrifying. I had absolutely no idea where to start but because of my age, knew that any man I went on a date with would expect some level of experience. I was totally out of my depth.
'They should give you some kind of manual when you come out, how to be a gay man,' I joked to Tracey but secretly I wished someone could tell me what to do.
The following night I went out with Tracey and she suggested we check out a new bar, when I walked in I realised it was a gay night, she was the only woman in there.
'Come on, it’ll be fun,' she grinned as I nervously stood by the door.
Tracey got me a drink and we sat down next to a group of lads, one, a dark haired, lean looking guy shot me a smile.
'I’m Oliver.’
‘C-hris.’
Oliver was gorgeous, he had a deep Mediterranean tan, brown hair swept into a slight fringe and a firm bicep burst out from underneath the white t-shirt he was wearing.
'You should take Chris out on a date,' Tracey suddenly announced from next to me.
I tried to stop my face flashing red, I felt like an embarrassed teenager whose Mum was trying to fix him up on a date.
'Sure,' Oliver smiled, 'give me your number'.
Before I could respond Tracey had taken his phone and quickly tapped in my number.
'I’ll be in touch,' Oliver said, before touching my arm.
I watched him walk over to his friends and made sure he was out of earshot before turning to Tracey.
'You’re so embarrassing.’
'Your first date!' she grinned.
Two days later I found myself rushing into a bowling alley on an industrial estate on the outskirts of Cardiff. I was late for my date with Oliver and was worried he might have already left. It wasn’t my fault, I had to stay late at work.
I anxiously checked my reflection in the glass door before I walked into the bar area. I spotted Oliver immediately, he was slumped in a chair, looking at his phone, from fifteen feet away I could tell he was annoyed, his body language made it glaringly obvious. I was already nervous, my hand was shaking in my pocket, to me, this was my first ever date because I couldn’t really remember any others. I may have been a twenty-three-year-old man but in terms of experience I was a prepubescent boy. Now I was faced with the very real possibility that my date was going to leave because I was late.
'Hi,' I said with an awkward smile.
'Oh, you’re here finally!’
Oliver didn’t look up from his phone.
Maybe I should just leave now, I considered.
'Do you want a drink?' I asked nervously.
Part of me expected him to just get up and leave.
He finally raised his head and his eyes met mine, I gave him a half smile and my best puppy dog eyes.
'Go on then, vodka and coke,' he said.
'Brilliant, right, I’ll be back in one minute.’
At the bar I faced my next dilemma. What should I drink? I used to like beer, it seemed like a manly drink but what I really fancied was an alcopop. Is that too feminine though? I worried.
I decided to just order the same as Oliver and so quickly grabbed the drinks and sat down with him again.
'I’m sorry I was late,' I said.
'Look, I’ve got to get off to work soon, we’ve got ten minutes.’
'Let's not waste time then.’
I may have been nervous but in my new role at work I spent all day making small talk with the public, so, I pretended we were at the bank and he was a customer.
'So, I’ve had a hectic day, how’s yours been?' I started.
Conversation flowed and when it was time for Oliver to leave, the date was far less frosty than when it had began. In fact, when we said goodbye Oliver gave me a hug.
'Fancy doing this again?' he suggested.
‘Definitely.’
I went home that night feeling victorious, my first date with a man had been ticked off my to-do list and it hadn’t been a complete disaster.
Oliver text me the following week and asked me out for a drink, we met in a pub in Cardiff and this time I made sure I was on time. Oliver was easy to speak to and I felt comfortable with him.
'I’m a bit new to all this,' I admitted, after we had shared a few drinks.
'New to what?'
'Well, I haven’t had many boyfriends.’
Oliver put his drink down and looked into my eyes, he seemed to soften towards me.
'Yeah? Don’t worry, we can take things slow.’
On our third date we shared a kiss, to me it was my first kiss. As he moved towards me I knew it what was about to happen, I wanted to kiss him but I really didn’t want to mess it up.
What side am I meant to go? Should I kiss him first? Or wait for him to kiss me?
But before I knew it, Oliver’s lips had met mine and we were kissing, all I could think was, it’s happening, it’s happening!
Things moved quite quickly and after we had been dating for three weeks Oliver invited me over to his house. When I arrived my belly was bursting with nervous energy, I knew Oliver was probably expecting us to have sex and secretly, so was I. Each time I had seen Oliver I had felt the strong surge of desire, I wanted to kiss him, to touch him and although I was nervous, I knew having sex with a man was the final step I had to make. But I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. I had thought the first kiss was nerve-wracking but imagining having sex for the first time was absolutely terrifying. At least with my first sexual experience with a girl I had some knowledge. I had the benefit of sex-education at school, hearing my mates tall tales of pulling girls on holiday and I had seen hundreds of sex scenes on the telly. But two men? I knew, physically, what went where but there were dozens of other unanswered questions that were swirling around my mind when I arrived at Oliver’s house that night in October.
Sat in Oliver’s sitting room my nerves began to grow.
'Do you want a drink?' he asked casually, popping his head in from the kitchen.
'Erm, no, yes, I don’t know...what do you think?'
Oliver’s face scrunched up and he burst into laughter.
'Are you okay Chris?'
Should I tell him the truth? I wondered. I t
hought back to the advice Dad had given me when I was a teenager about how to approach girls, just be yourself, he had told me. It seemed as relevant now as ever.
'I’m fine, I’m just nervous.’
Oliver’s expression melted into a warm smile and he sat down next to me.
'Don’t be nervous Chris.’
'Wine?' Oliver asked and held out a glass.
'Definitely!' I said.
I drank the contents in one large gulp.
We finished off the bottle and then started kissing and Oliver led me into his bedroom, he took the lead and I nervously followed, adrenalin, desire and the buzz of alcohol, charging me through. Just like the first time I had sex with a girl, when we had finished I lay triumphant, as if someone had just let me in on a very exciting secret.
'How do you feel?' Oliver asked, as he wrapped an arm over my shoulders.
'Pretty good,' I said with a grin.
As I lay in Oliver’s bed, completely wired with excitement, I realised that I finally had the answers. I wasn’t going through a phase, or exploring my sexuality, I was gay.
Chapter Fourteen: A Mother’s Love Has Limits
It was a sunny Saturday morning, Oliver had stayed over at my house and I had just woken him up with a cup of tea.
‘So, what shall we do today?’ Oliver asked as he rubbed sleep from his eyes.
‘Umm, park? shopping? erm …’
Oliver looked unimpressed with my suggestions so far, I scanned my room hoping it would give me an idea.
‘Let’s go somewhere different,’ Oliver suggested.
Mum and Derek were away on honeymoon and I had meant to pop in to check on Simon, it seemed like the perfect opportunity.
‘We could go for a drive, pop in on my brother on the way?’
I hadn’t thought of it as a significant thing to do, Oliver knew my parents wouldn’t be around so it took any pressure off him meeting my family. He knew that I hadn’t properly come out to them so we agreed to act as friends when we saw Simon.