by Clare London
I reached out for Alec’s arm, but he pulled it away sharply, almost overbalancing me. His cuff was undone and the shirtsleeve rode up his arm. I saw a dark red scar slashed across his wrist. A horrible chill settled over my heart, even worse than the physical fear I’d felt when he was trying to intimidate me. “Alec? Look, if you want to talk about anything—”
“Don’t you understand?” This time he stumbled away from me. “I had enough from you and your gang when I was a kid who didn’t know better. Playing those stupid poofter games—it’s no wonder I was mixed up for so long. But I’ve sorted myself out since then, and I don’t want your kind chasing after me, harassing me and my family.”
“Your kind?” Nick’s voice was deep with anger. “You want to pretend you’re something you’re not, good luck to you. But don’t you dare call Dan or me a homo, or poofter. Or stupid!”
“Please… don’t…” came Ellie’s soft thread of a voice.
Alec ran into the kitchen and slammed the door behind him.
Ellie looked helplessly between us and the closed door. Nick was breathing heavily, his body tense in a way I’d never seen it before.
I was only half-ashamed to say I couldn’t get out of there quickly enough.
NICK AND I made for the steps leading back to street level, but first we rested for a few moments, leaning on the balcony railing and looking out over the courtyard and its haphazardly parked cars below. It was a mutually agreed breather, communicated silently. Before I could make any comment on what we’d just experienced, I heard steps along the landing—Ellie was coming after us.
She stopped a couple of feet away, still wringing the kitchen cloth between her hands. “He doesn’t want to be like that, do you understand? Like….”
“Like gay?” I said rather brutally. “Like me?”
She shook her head, distressed. “You don’t understand. That summer, he’d already tried to tell his parents he was… different. They accused him of doing it to spite them. His father left home after a furious argument, and even though he eventually came back, it was weeks later, and Alec’s mother never forgave Alec for provoking it. Even after university, she wouldn’t let him anywhere near the family until he’d persuaded her he wasn’t… like that.”
I’d never seen anyone picking up Alec from the SSSC. No parents or siblings or other friends. I obviously hadn’t known him at all. “But he is what he is,” I said. “It’s not for choosing. He can’t turn it off.”
She winced—my voice must still have been harsh. “He wants to be straight. He is straight. We’re married,” she said, as doggedly as if she were chanting a religious tract. “We met at university and have been together ever since. It works for us.”
It was so obviously untrue, and her expression betrayed her. “Eleanor, can’t you help him? I don’t understand why you’re both living this lie.”
Then I recognised the look in her eyes at last. It wasn’t disgust or anger… it was pain. I could see she loved Alec, no question, but it was hell to live with him.
“I’m trying,” she said. “I’m trying every day.”
“I’m sorry,” I blurted out. “I’m sorry I came here.”
She frowned. There was far more sadness behind that frown than from my visit alone. “It’s not your fault, Daniel. And I have a message for you from him. I understand it, but not why he has to say it to you, and he won’t tell me any more than that.”
“Yes?”
“He says he never kissed a man. Not even as a boy.”
“No. He didn’t,” I said. And instinctively I knew it too, although I had no actual proof. “I don’t expect he told you much about our time at the sports club that summer—”
“Please”—she took a nervous step backward—“don’t.”
What did she think we’d been up to, all those innocent years ago? I raised a hand to calm her. “No problem. I just want to tell you that he’s being honest with you.”
She didn’t answer. Behind her, we all heard Alec’s hoarse call from their front door. “Ellie?”
“He needs me,” she said simply, then turned on her heel and ran back to the flat.
There was silence between Nick and me for a while.
Finally he put his hand on my arm. “Are you okay?”
I still felt chilled all over, as if iced water ran through my veins. I didn’t imagine Alec would come running after us to yell or attack us, but his hostility had shocked me to the core. I was also horrified he was repressing everything. How could he? The mere idea made me feel ill. But if that was what he’d chosen—if that was the only way he could cope with life, who was I to condemn him? I glanced at Nick, wondering if I’d have thought the same way a week ago, before Nick and I met. I suppose I expected solidarity, but his returning look was odd. He was obviously sympathetic, equally shocked, worried. But there was a flicker of unease there too.
Had everything turned upside down for me?
I RANG Alice as soon as we got back to the hotel. I left Nick, who was going to our room to pack up his stuff, and I settled down in an armchair in the lobby.
“How’s it going?” she crowed, over a rather scratchy connection. “Did you find everyone? What was it like, meeting them after all these years? Any of them psychotic maniacs or politicians? Or both?”
“I’m fine,” I said firmly. “It’s all done now. I’ll call you when I’m on my way home, and I’ll tell you all about it later.”
She was silent for a moment, then said, perfectly clearly, “Bullshit.”
“I’m—What did you say?”
“We’ve been in each other’s pockets for years, Daniel, and I know when you’re upset. What’s happened?”
I told her, in the end. Haltingly and reluctantly, trying to dismiss the emotional impact of my visits and reminding her I was on my way home regardless. But she listened to it all without protest.
“It wasn’t what you thought, was it, sweetheart?”
“No. Not bad, you know. In fact, it’s been a real adventure, finding our way across country, comparing the different ways that people’s lives have gone. But it’s also been….” I couldn’t find the right words.
“Disturbing? Thought-provoking?”
“Yes, all that.”
She gave a soft laugh. “Got any further with deciding what happened to the fourth gang member in all those years?”
“What? You mean me?”
“Yes, you idiot.” Her insult was gentle. “I’d say you’ve been fumbling around too, trying to find what kind of man you are.”
“I just need some time to think this through.”
“Sounds like you need some constructive company too. Is Nick Carson still with you?”
I glanced over at the stairs up to the bedrooms. “Yes. We…. He’s been very helpful.” God, and didn’t that sound pathetic? Ridiculously coy too, when I thought of the kind of help he’d been giving me in the dark, sweaty, sexy nights.
Alice laughed again, almost as if she knew what I was thinking.
When I was younger, I’d been sure she was a witch, though it may just have been my bad luck that she always found the well-thumbed sports magazines under my bed. I smiled to myself. She was a well-meaning witch, whatever else.
“Daniel, are you still there?” Her voice was hesitant now.
“Yes, of course.”
“I know I’ve been a pain recently. Nosing into your life, trying to tell you how to live it.”
“Hey. Don’t be daft. You know I don’t really mind—”
“I’m pregnant,” she said quickly.
Wow. Now I knew why she’d been unusually shaky in the pub. “That’s marvellous!”
“We only found out a week ago, and I’ve been trying to find the right time to tell you, but it all got mixed up with your travel plans, and then you’d already driven off. Shit! I’m still not making much sense. My moods are all over the bloody place. Hormones, you know. I just… oh hell. I suppose I’m being silly, worrying it’ll make
a difference.”
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d heard Alice swear more than once a day. I was still a bit stunned at the thought I’d be an uncle. “Make a difference? What does that mean?”
“Between us, Daniel. We’ve been there for each other since Mum and Dad… left us. I don’t want that to change.” She sounded tearful now. “I don’t want us to drift apart.”
“You silly arse,” I said fondly. “We never will. The baby will add more to our family, not less. Things always have to change, but it’s not automatically for the bad.”
We chatted for a bit longer, until she’d cheered up and was chattering more happily about her and Josh’s plans for the baby.
“Daniel, why don’t you call your work and ask them for an extension to your holiday? Take off and see some more of the country, but without the pressure of a quest this time. And take Nick with you, if he wants to stick around. You haven’t taken more than a week off for years.”
“Why would I do that?” I blustered. “I said I’ll be back soon.”
“Bollocks,” she said bluntly, the smile rich in her voice. “Keep in touch.”
And she ended the call.
Chapter 10
WHEN I went back to the room, Nick had his case open on the bed but his clothes still in a pile beside it. He was sitting on the edge of the mattress, his hands loose in his lap, his gaze on the floor. When I closed the door behind me, he jumped. His thoughts must have been very far away.
I went over and sat beside him. Neither of us moved or spoke for a long couple of minutes. I was thinking over Alice’s news. It was great, but also sobering. I’d been right when I told her things always had to change, and I should live by that as well, shouldn’t I? This quest had started with good intentions but had gone way off the expected path. And had it really been all about me and my life choices, not the sports club?
Nick stirred beside me.
“It was awful,” I said quickly, eager to apologise. “At Alec’s. I’m so sorry I took you there. It’s not your worry, not your history, but you had to put up with his twisted homophobia—”
“Stop it,” he interrupted. He didn’t snap, but it brought me up sharp. “I was angry too. I’ve met that kind of denial too often. But I’m sorry if I butted in or made it worse.”
“That’d be difficult,” I said with a grimace. “I mean, I’m trying to empathise with Alec’s state, but it horrifies me. And it was such a contrast after Gerry’s outrageous fun—”
“And Mark’s domestic bliss. I know.”
I shivered. “So I suppose we’d better get packed up and go home. We both have work to get back to.”
“Yes.”
There was another small silence. I remembered the argument Nick and I had the previous evening, about my scorn of happy endings. I also remembered thinking about the strange love-hate feeling I’d expect to feel with a lover: the need to be with them, the concern for them, the twist in the gut that happens when you know you’re going to part.
My gut felt pretty twisty at the moment.
Dammit, it wasn’t a theoretical issue any longer. Yes, I would ask Nick for his number, and I was sure we’d have a date sometime. Maybe two. But so many of my previous opinions and conceptions had been shaken up this week, including my ideas of what it was like to be with someone you really felt connected to. After Nick and I went to our respective homes, we wouldn’t be together day and night as we had been over the last few days. We wouldn’t be questing together, sharing the fun and the shocks, chatting about it later, comparing our experiences. And what about sleeping together every night, discovering the excitement of each other’s body, trying things out? That had been a quest of a very different kind.
It had been the best thing in my life, by far. “Nick—” I started.
“Dan.” He spoke at the same time, and I let him continue. “I need to say something. When you were talking last night about what’s happened between us? I didn’t give you a proper answer.”
“I don’t need—”
“No, please. Let me talk, or I’ll lose my nerve.” He wouldn’t look at me, but he sat close enough for our thighs to touch. He was flushed, as he had been when we were at Alec’s. “I feel it too, believe me. But I don’t think…. Well, I think you should reconsider.”
“You do? Tell me why.”
He gave a long, soft sigh. “It was me, Dan.”
“What was?”
“I was part of that gang of older kids, that day in the clubhouse.”
There was silence between us for a few tense seconds. “What the hell?”
He turned to me, his expression full of nervousness and some panic. “Look, I wasn’t with them. Fuck, I’m making a really bad job of explaining this. I’d come to pick up Nate that evening, forgetting he’d gone out for the day with a neighbour’s kids. When I went to leave, I got swept up with the group coming in. A couple of them were from my school, from that gang I told you I hung around with. I saw them watching you four, and I knew there was going to be trouble.”
“Why didn’t you do something about it?”
“I couldn’t have challenged them, not on my own. Believe me, Dan, I went for help as soon as I could.”
“You were the one fetched the staff to break it up?”
“Yes.” His eyes pleaded with me. “I ran all the way to the top field to get them. As soon as I found my way out of the room.”
I stared at him a moment longer. “You were the one,” I said slowly. He knew what I meant. The flush coloured his neck. “The one who kissed me.”
His mouth opened, then closed again abruptly. He stood. “I’ll go.”
“You bloody well won’t!” I snapped. “Not until I know what’s going on here.”
“You think I’m some kind of stalker.” Misery was etched on his face. “Will you believe me if I tell you I didn’t know it was you when I answered your message on Facebook? I never knew anyone’s name at the club. Nate never chatted much about people to me, but I’d seen you a few times when I collected him. You were always smiling. You looked… good.”
“You fancied me? But you weren’t out in school, you said.”
He grimaced. “I know. But I was eighteen, on my way to college, and imagining a future when I could let go. Yes, I fancied you. Badly.” He laughed softly, probably at himself. “I was excited when I thought you were gay too.”
“How?”
“I saw you messing about with one of your gang. Not sexually—just larking around. But I know now that was Gerry. He made it pretty obvious he was out.”
“What about your gang? Did they know you were gay?”
“God, no, or they’d have kicked my head in.” He laughed bitterly. “That day, they assumed I’d join in with them. But I couldn’t let them just lay into you all. When they turned the lights out, I pushed a couple of kids to the door, in the hope they’d run for it. That was probably Mark and Gerry. Then I fell against your chair and realised you were still in the firing line. I kicked the chair legs to alert you, and you made a scramble for safety. I… followed you. You moved quickly and smartly. You smelled really good. Oh fuck.”
“Go on,” I said. I kept my tone deliberately steady.
“I kissed you. Shit. I couldn’t resist it. It was unforgivable.”
“Yes.” But goosebumps of excitement prickled all along my arms.
“When we met in the pub last Friday, I did wonder.” He looked really shamefaced, and I remembered how he’d peered at me oddly that night. “Then we went searching for Gerry, and you told me about your Gang of Four. Well, it all started to gel with my memory. And then you told me the whole story about that day, and I realised it was… you know. You.”
I had to admit I liked the way he said you. Like I was something special.
He rushed on. “In my defence, there were a hell of a lot of kids in the club that summer, and it’s been over twelve years. I’d only had a few glimpses of you at the time, and the kiss….” I didn’t se
e how he could get any more flushed, but somehow he did. “It was in the dark. Just momentary madness. Immediately afterwards I just wanted to forget about it. I was shit-scared I’d be reported, to tell you the truth. I wasn’t proud of attacking a defenceless kid.”
I had to smile. “You were more or less one yourself. And it was only a kiss, Nick.”
He groaned. “Please, don’t try to be kind. I think it was one of the reasons I took so long to come out—I was so ashamed of that day. I don’t know how I can apologise enough—”
“A really good kiss,” I continued over his apology. “A kiss that helped convince me I was on the right track, that being gay was my way. That I should get over any teenage angst and go for it.”
Nick peered at me warily. “You mean you’re okay with it?”
“I’m okay,” I said. “Like you said, it was a long time ago.”
Things always have to change, and not automatically for the bad.
I felt quite calm… and very happy. Had I, somewhere deep inside, suspected I already knew Nick Carson?
He bit his lip, then blurted, “It was a good kiss?”
I started to laugh, but his serious expression stopped me. “Yes, it was.”
“I wanted to forget about it, but I never did.” He lifted a hand and cradled my cheek. “I may not have consciously recognised your sixteen-year-old self, but I knew I liked Dan the adult the minute I saw you across the pub. Even more than liking you online.”
“Maybe it was your subconscious, pointing you back to me.”
“Maybe.” He laughed and leaned in towards me. His kiss began tentatively, until I slid my hand around the back of his neck and pulled him in closer. He slipped his tongue between my lips with a thrust, not just of desire but with what felt like relief.
“I’m not comparing it, you know,” I said when we came up for breath. “Kissing you then was fun and shocking and good. Kissing you now is—” Nick looked like he was holding his breath. How stupid, and how sweet was that? “—is phenomenal.”