Dreamspinner Press Years One & Two Greatest Hits

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Dreamspinner Press Years One & Two Greatest Hits Page 94

by J. M. Colail


  “You went back for me?” David said more to himself than John, but John nodded and replied, “Yeah… I think I started to know even then that I was in trouble with you.” He turned and gave David a slightly embarrassed grin. “That night was the start of it and each time after that it was worse. When you came here after being beaten up I was worried sick, but still so bloody relieved to see you. Shit, you should have seen Marian’s face when I told her to leave. I sat and watched you most of the night. I kept telling myself it was just to make sure you didn’t die on me, but as much as I wanted to I couldn’t deny it any longer…. I knew I loved you.”

  David dropped his eyes and let the silence hang for a long minute or two. His voice was almost a mumble when he started to speak. “You’d been working on the accounts for most of the morning; I guess Maggie wasn’t too good at balancing the books and you had that serious frown on your face the whole time. Except at one point your concentration wavered and you got this distant look in your eyes, almost sad. It didn’t last long, but it was long enough for me to fall in love with you.” His voice trailed off to be replaced by the rush of blood in his ears as he watched John’s stunned expression.

  Wrong, wrong. Shouldn’t have said that. Panic rapidly built in David and he almost missed when John whispered, “Do you love me, David?”

  With courage he didn’t know he had, David carefully eased his feet off John’s lap and turned to crawl closer. Every instinct told him not to risk this, but David nodded and leaned in to let his lips brush against John’s.

  John sat very still and let David kiss him, but when their lips parted his fingers found David’s hair, pushing it back to see his eyes. The astonishment on John’s face was replaced by a grin that almost split his face in two even though his voice still had an air of disbelief when he said, “I love you so fucking much.”

  David let the fear slide away and matched John’s smile. He kissed John again, but this time—for the first time—it was equal. Neither led nor followed as they tasted and touched each other. John slowly slid down on the couch until he was almost on his back with David sprawled over him. The weight of David’s body on his was solid and real as they gently rubbed against each other, hips rolling in an unhurried dance as if the cloth separating them didn’t exist.

  John’s skin was under David’s hands, his hair twined through his fingers. All else faded except for a nagging sound at the edge of his perception. Suddenly it registered: John’s cell phone. David quickly pulled away, his breathing heavy as he moved to the end of the couch. The loss of touch was bewildering and John slowly sat up to where he could reach David and said, “Dave? It’s just my phone. Ignore it. Let it ring out.”

  David glanced down at his now-clasped hands and said solemnly, “It might be important, John. It might be your work.” John frowned and watched David’s all too familiar emotional withdrawal. Aren’t we past this, Dave?, he thought, getting more and more frustrated at the intrusion of the ring tone. “Fuck.” John cursed under his breath, stood up, and flipped open his phone. “What is it?”

  The metallic voice began to tell him about problems finalizing a contract, but John was only half-listening. The talk of numbers just didn’t seem important and he realized he didn’t actually care about the portfolio he’d spent almost the whole of the previous year courting and setting up. It just didn’t matter. He looked at David sitting silently on the couch waiting for him and knew there was no real decision to make.

  John let the caller finish his sentence and said in a surprisingly calm and sure voice, “I appreciate the call, Bob, but to be honest that is not my life anymore. I have something so much better.”

  Chapter 23

  THE FULL summer sun was warm on the back of David’s shoulders. People bustled past the courtyard café chattering happily and swapping postcard-size reproductions of the artworks they’d just viewed, but David was content to just watch the man sitting across from him.

  John looked up from the exhibition catalogue to see David smiling; he could feel the blush creeping up his face and asked, “What?”

  David just shrugged and kept smiling until John gave an embarrassed laugh and growled, “Don’t give me that. Tell me!”

  “Watching you pouring over the paintings; I guess I just didn’t expect to see you like that… you know, totally engrossed, lost in the pictures. You don’t seem the art type.”

  John squirmed a little in his seat and went to close the book, but David gently put his hand over John’s and stopped him. “Why these pictures, John? As beautiful as the Pre-Raphaelites are, they’re not what I imagined you liking.”

  “What did you imagine me liking?”

  David grinned and said, “I dunno. Creative accounting?”

  John pulled a face and made to swat him, but said, “When I was young, maybe seventeen, it was half-day closing and I caught the train to Birmingham for the afternoon. I’d just been paid and wanted to price new football boots or something. I can’t really remember what. Anyway, I know I didn’t have quite enough money and would have to wait at least another week.” David watched John’s eyes lose focus. This was always a good time, a chance to let go of recent histories and go back through tales of youth that gave glimpses of the journey.

  “I’d taken a sandwich with me; Gran always packed me a lunch, and I sat in the park to eat. I’d just started and the heavens opened. Fuck, it started to absolutely piss down. I didn’t have a coat with me and there was no shelter so I grabbed my things and ran to the nearest building.” John stopped and shook his head, smiling at the memory. “It was a cathedral, a great bloody cathedral in the middle of the city. Not somewhere I’d usually venture.” He raised his hands to the sky to emphasize his words, making David laugh.

  “I remember standing there huddled in the doorway shoving my sandwich in my mouth watching the rain come down. It didn’t look like it was going to stop anytime soon so I swallowed my last bite and decided to take a look inside.” John looked at David with total awe in his eyes and tried to articulate the wonder he’d felt at his surroundings. “I’d never been in a place like that before and… and it took my breath away. The color from the windows… it touched everything. I remember looking down at my hand; my skin was reds and golds, and I couldn’t believe how beautiful it looked.” He looked up and saw David staring at the upturned palm as if the colors were still held there after all these years and murmured, “I didn’t understand that the world could hold such beauty until then. I suppose I didn’t expect it.”

  David met his eyes and smiled, making John clear his throat and look back at the book. “So… um, those windows I found out were by an artist called Burne-Jones.”

  The noise of a bored school group briefly interrupted him and he shot them a disgruntled look. David merely shrugged and said, “The pictures don’t move and there are no shootouts or car chases, but you never know, John. Maybe one of them will find some unexpected beauty in the exhibition that they’ll remember when they’re all grown up. And if all else fails they’ll remember running their fingers over the waterfall window and maybe decide galleries aren’t too bad.”

  John listened to the softly spoken words and he was awed by the beauty of David; he could see it clearly, both physically and spiritually. John began to reply when he saw David’s attention waver and it was obvious something behind John had caught his attention. The smile vanished from David’s face. John watched as he gripped the edge of the table and pushed himself to his feet, still staring over John’s shoulder.

  “Dave? What is it?” John asked, looking around to see what had caused such a reaction.

  David backed slowly away from the table and muttered what might have been, “I have to go.”

  “David?” John stood up and reached for him, but he’d turned and begun to walk rapidly toward the exit. John called after him as he pushed his way through the summer crowds.

  He quickly gathered his belongings from the table to follow, but became aware of a figure standing at
his shoulder. The young man just stood and stared at the retreating back before he turned to John, his expression a mixture of hurt and bewilderment.

  John was torn between going after David and talking to the young man whose features were so familiar through the many portraits in David’s sketchbook.

  “That was my dad, wasn’t it?” he asked quietly.

  John looked in the direction David had disappeared. He sighed, turned back to Adam, and nodded.

  Adam was at a loss of what to do or say and it took him a few false starts before he managed to spit out, “Why did he leave? What did I do?”

  John shook his head and held his hand up. “You didn’t do anything, Adam. Your dad has had some problems. Look, I really have to go after him and make sure he’s okay.” John pulled out his wallet and handed Adam a small cream business card with a new number penciled in above the neat typeface printing of the old one. He put his hand on Adam’s arm and said, “Call me, please…. I’ll do my best to explain.” John could see the confusion on the teenager’s face, but at that moment he couldn’t deal with that because he needed to follow David.

  Without waiting for an answer John made his way through the crowded thoroughfare and jogged out the exit toward the car park, only slowing to a walk when he rounded the corner and his car was in view. There was no sign of David.

  John waited by the car for more than an hour, looking as each person entered the car park, occasionally pacing the length of the roadway to the entry ramp. He checked the male toilets both on this level and the one nearer the gallery, his nerves jumping as he approached the car again in anticipation, picturing David quietly waiting for him.

  But David wasn’t back.

  John felt sick to his stomach when he finally turned the key in the ignition and backed the car out of the parking space. It felt wrong to leave, as if he was giving up and that David might still appear even though logically he knew he wouldn’t. The drive home was spent watching pedestrians, peering through the windscreen into doorways, and missing the change of traffic lights while he scanned every face. By the time he parked near the store he had all but convinced himself that David had headed home… to their home.

  The apartment was quiet when John pushed the door open, but that didn’t necessarily mean David wasn’t there. It had taken John quite a while to understand and appreciate the silence that often surrounded David. He moved from room to room, feeling his dread grow with each empty space.

  He looked on the kitchen counter next to the stacked mail and paid bills for what he knew would still be there; a small silver cell phone. It had been several weeks since John had bought the phone for David. He’d smiled and said thank you, but had never taken it with him or even put it in his backpack. John doubted that he’d even turned it on. He pushed the phone to the back of the bench and whispered, Help me here, Dave.

  THE SUN had gone down and, other than the unrelenting tick of the wall clock, the apartment was silent. John sat in his armchair and stared into the darkened room. The stillness of his pose belied the agitation he was feeling. His head throbbed and every muscle threatened to twitch. He needed to do something. He just didn’t know what. When the phone rang, John virtually flew out of the chair and clutched at the receiver. “Hello, David?” he said breathlessly, hoping rather than knowing who it was.

  A hesitant voice spoke on the other end of the line. “Hi, um… John. Is my dad okay?”

  John closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He knew he needed to answer the boy but found it extremely difficult to answer that particular question. In the end he replied quietly, “As far as I know, Adam.”

  There it is again, Adam thought. He says my name as if he knows me…. “Has my d… has he ever spoken about me?”

  John shook his head; the hint of a sad smile played on his lips. “David doesn’t talk a lot, lad, but he has told me about you. He misses you very much.”

  Then why did he go? The question was there between them, neither giving it voice. John heard Adam sigh before he asked, “Can I talk to him? Will he talk to me?”

  How the fuck do I answer that? What can I tell him? That his father had a full-blown panic attack in a bus shelter at the mere thought he’d see him? John rested the receiver against his forehead for a few seconds to compose himself, understanding that he couldn’t tell the whole truth but not wanting to lie to the boy. He took a breath and said as calmly as he could, “I don’t know…. Um, he’s not here right now. I’m sorry.”

  Adam felt his throat close around a lump. Please, John. He’s my dad. His voice was very small when he asked, “Will you talk to me about him?”

  I want to, Adam… so much. I want to tell you how much he loves you. What he’s put himself through to see you. The drawings and letters he’s written. That David is a kind, gentle man who despite everything has a dignity that…. John could feel the burn of tears at the back of his eyes and cut the thought short. That wasn’t helping. In a gentle voice, John said to David’s son, “Adam, please understand that I need to speak to David first.”

  “What if he says no?”

  What if he says no? Fuck! John rubbed his fingers over his eyes. It hurt to hear Adam’s desperation.

  When John didn’t answer, Adam pleaded quietly. “Please, John.”

  “Give me your number, Adam,” John replied softly, knowing he had to try.

  John made no attempt to brush away the tears that rolled down his cheeks when he replaced the receiver. You were doing so well, Dave. We were doing so well. He leaned back against the kitchen counter, rubbed his hand over his face, and looked at his armchair. I can’t wait for you, David; I’m going to find you. John shook his head and grabbed his car keys from the table.

  BY NOW the streets were filled with people heading home to their own lives, leaving those without them behind to find something to fill their night. He’d tried several of David’s usual haunts to no avail and could think of one more before heading home. John parked the car, silenced the engine, and turned off the lights. He sat behind the steering wheel and looked out the window. There was a bright moon so he could easily see the front gardens of the park. The flowers, red and yellow in the sunlight, shone bright and colorless along the edges of the path.

  John looked at them as he stepped out of the car and walked into the park.

  Chapter 24

  JOHN’S FEET stayed to the lit path of the park, but his mind wandered to places he prayed David hadn’t ventured. Don’t go there, he growled to himself and shook it off, somehow knowing that David had moved on from that. The night was still mild but John shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked the long path, constantly scanning the shadows and looking at the face of every lonely figure trying to find a quiet place to bed down. I can’t find you if you don’t want to be found, Dave. He sighed, but continued his determined walk.

  Finally, he had to stop somewhere near the center of the park where a large round flower bed spiked off into a number of different paths. John stood and glanced down each as they disappeared around tree-lined corners. He sighed and out of desperation called David’s name, only to be abused by a young couple seeking the solace of a private moment away from home and parents. He quickly apologized and moved away. That’s when he heard the quiet reply. “I’m here, John.”

  John turned in the direction of the voice and squinted until he could just make out the hunched silhouette of David sitting on a family picnic table, his feet resting on the long wooden bench. David didn’t make a move toward John, but simply sat and watched him.

  Without a word, John walked over to sit on the bench next to David’s feet. He leaned back against the table edge where, despite his need to throw accusations or simply ask questions, John sat quietly and stared out into the park. Together they sat in silence until slowly John felt the tension in the man next to him begin to ease. He sighed a little and lifted his arm to drape it across David’s knee. John looked up and asked, “Are you okay?”

  David gave the question seri
ous thought before he nodded slowly and said, “He’s grown a lot over the last few years.”

  David’s face was impassive, but John knew better. He moved off the bench and onto the table next to David, where he sat close enough to feel David’s body heat, but without actually touching. It was difficult to remain quiet. There were so many things he wanted to say to reassure David, but one lesson he’d learned over the past few months was to give David time.

  After long minutes of silence, John slowly moved his hand around and placed it on David’s back to gently rub between his shoulder blades while he whispered, “There’s no hurry, Dave.”

  David just shook his head and looked away. “I was coming home, John. I just needed to get away for a while, but I was coming home.”

  “I know,” John lied.

  THE DRIVE home was quiet, with David slumped in the passenger seat, his unfocused gaze aimed at the passing sidewalk. David looked tired and defeated when John stole a quick glance. “Almost home,” he said softly and tightened his grip on the steering wheel when David repeated his words, “Almost home.”

  As soon as John turned the engine off David got out of the car and walked to the apartment, where he waited. “Do you want something to eat? Maybe something to drink?” John asked as he led him up the stairs and through the apartment door.

  David shook his head with a flat “No.” He hesitated in the middle of the room and looked at John. A small and somewhat apologetic smile fleeted over his features when he saw John watching him. “I’m sorry, John. No, thank you. I think I need to go to bed if that’s okay.”

  “Of course it’s okay,” John said and cleared his throat. “You go through; I’ll join you in a little while.” He reached out to touch David’s arm, but didn’t quite make contact and stood back while David nodded and walked wearily through to the bedroom.

 

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