by Tom Lennon
Pretend it was a joke, he thought. Becky, I was only messing. Had you going, though, didn’t I? But he needn’t have worried. She shook her head and smiled warmly.
“I thought as much,” she said calmly, almost giving Neil heart failure. Who else knew? Was it common knowledge? That’s why all his friends were so friendly; they felt sorry for him. Maybe he walked in a way that gave it away, or maybe it was the way he held his cigarette, or even the way he spoke…That was it, it was his voice—it was too soft. Gary’s mum had commented on it once. What was it she said? “Neil, you’ve got a lovely voice.” Hah, what the old lady meant was, “Neil, you’ve got a gay voice.”
“Don’t worry, no one else suspects.” Becky smiled as though she had read his thoughts.
“But … How did you know?”
“Feminine intuition. And I am a friend of yours, Neil.” She smiled, patting his knee.
“But why didn’t you say anything?”
Becky shrugged. “I hoped you’d tell me in your own time,” she said, stroking his cheek gently.
“Would you have guessed at all if, say, you didn’t know me?” Neil asked, relieved now that his panic attack was unfounded.
Becky looked puzzled. “What d’you mean?”
“Say if you met me as a stranger.” Yet again Neil checked that no one was eavesdropping. “Could you tell that I was gay?”
Becky laughed. “Why, what does a gay person look like?”
“Ah, you know what I mean.”
“Well, you don’t look effeminate, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Becky smiled. “Quite the opposite, in fact.”
Neil sat back and sighed. Then Becky leaned over, wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, and kissed him. All the years of pain and frustration seemed to drain from inside him as though a ten-ton weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
“I love you just the way you are,” Becky whispered into his ear.
“You should write songs,” Neil replied with a grin, earning himself a gentle blow on the shoulder.
A lounge boy gave them a quick glance as he passed. Neil leaned over and whispered into Becky’s ear. “Lovely bum, hasn’t he?”
Becky’s face went into contortions. Neil dug a tissue out of his pocket and blew his nose. The couple at the next table were giving them strange looks, but he didn’t care now. He felt like standing up, punching the air, and shouting in jubilation. Instead he took a long gulp of his pint.
“I’m glad you told me,” Becky said, pressing his hand.
“So am I,” Neil grinned.
“I mean, it’s great; now we can go out eyeing up the prospects together.” She added with a smile, “D’you know something, Neil? You’ve got the sexiest eyes.”
Neil’s face went crimson. “Stoppit, yer makin’ me go all scarlet,” he joked in a strong Dublin accent, trying to conceal his embarrassment.
“Don’t worry, you’re not my type, but it’s great that I can say these things to you now without you getting the wrong idea.”
“Don’t be so sure, babe,” Neil purred.
“You’re going to drive all the old queens wild,” she said, and Neil’s laugh was a mixture of nervousness and excitement, “And the young queens.”
Neil looked at her uncertainly. Surely she didn’t mean what he thought she meant. But she did.
“So when are you going to go into town?”
“Huh?”
“Into a gay bar,” she whispered.
Neil laughed incredulously. “Are you kidding?”
“You’re the one who said you wanted to be in love.”
“Jesus, but a…”—Neil checked that no one was listening before he mouthed the words that sent a tingle of excitement down his backbone—“…a gay bar?”
“Well, everyone will have three heads with horns growing out of their foreheads, but apart from that I’m sure they’ll all look pretty normal.”
Neil shook his head. “I couldn’t, Becky, no way.”
Becky shrugged her shoulders. “You’ve only got one life. If you want to die wondering, that’s your business.”
“I’d be sure to be spotted. Can you just imagine if my parents found out?” Neil gave a long sigh.
“Never know, you might meet your dad in there,” Becky replied in a deadpan voice, causing Neil to double up with laughter. He pictured his dad with a bushy mustache and his hair cropped, sporting a lumberjack shirt, leaning against a bar. The thought repulsed him. But at the same time Becky’s apparent familiarity with the gay scene was beginning to puzzle him.
“You sound like you know the place,” he said with a laugh.
“I do,” came Becky’s reply.
“What?” Neil’s eyes opened wide in amazement.
“I’ve been in there,” Becky added calmly.
“Go ’way.” Neil’s mind was working overtime. Surely Becky wasn’t going to tell him that she was gay!
“With Jimmy.”
A pause followed as Neil caught his breath.
“Your brother, Jimmy?” he whispered.
“Hmm,” Becky nodded.
“Is he…?” Neil asked incredulously.
Becky smiled as she nodded. Neil leaned back in the seat and sighed.
“And you thought you were the only one.” Becky poked his ribs playfully.
Neil grinned, he couldn’t hide his delight. At last he knew of someone else who was definitely gay. He tried to form a picture of Becky’s brother. He had been in Sixth Year at Blackrock when Neil was First Year, in the same class as Neil’s older brother, Paul. He was the school’s main cheerleader for the rugby matches, and he used to dive into the packed crowd of squealing Rock supporters and belt anyone who wasn’t cheering loud enough. After he left school, he set up a rock band, Neil remembered them opening for the Hothouse Flowers in Blackrock Park one hot summer’s afternoon. The band moved to London soon after, following a vague promise of a recording contract that never materialized. But now Neil understood why Becky’s brother had settled in London. Away from all the neighborhood tongues. That’s what he’d do himself, he decided. As soon as he could afford it, he’d go abroad. Live his life the way he wanted to live it without all the hassle and pretense he’d have to put up with at home.
“But listen, keep that to yourself,” Becky spoke in a low voice.
“Of course.” Neil was still reeling from the news. But the thought of escaping from the country made him feel good. It was the obvious thing to do.
“So, if you want me to come into town with you,” she continued, “just ask; I know the ropes.”
“Ah, I don’t know,” Neil said vaguely, but the thought of having Becky with him was appealing. “Tell me, does your whole family know about Jimmy being gay?”
“Nah, he just told me when he was home last Christmas.”
“And, does he, eh … have a boyfriend in London?”
“Yeah, Jamie. He’s been living with him for five years now.”
“God!” Neil couldn’t prevent his display of surprise.
“Practically married,” Becky said.
Neil grinned. He loved when Becky behaved so matter-of-factly on subjects that most people would’ve had kittens over. Suddenly emigration had lost all its sad connotations.
Then, a blond-haired lounge boy smiled and nodded shyly at Neil as he rushed past their table with a trayful of drinks. Becky pressed her leg against Neil’s and muttered her approval.
“Oh my God!” Neil gasped, nodding after the lounge boy. “I never realized he worked here.”
“You know him?” Becky licked her lips.
“Know him? I’ve been crazy about him for years,” Neil whispered, all thoughts of emigration deserting him. Becky raised her eyebrows.
“His name’s Ian. He’s a class below me at school,” Neil explained.
Becky smiled. “Well, one thing I’ll say for you, there’s nothing wrong with your taste.”
“Cute, isn’t he?”
“A little dream
boat,” Becky said.
“I was only fourteen or fifteen at the time…and I remember, ‘Nothing Compares 2 U’ was being played on every radio station.”
“So that was your song?”
Neil nodded. “Yeah, well, more like my song. But I felt so happy, I wanted to rush home and tell my mother all about this gorgeous bloke I had seen at school.” Neil laughed wryly and Becky squeezed his hand. “I was afraid to speak to him in case people accused me of trying to chat him up.
“But then, a couple of months ago, after one of the cup matches, he came up and spoke to me.”
“The little slut.” Becky nudged him teasingly.
“Just to congratulate me.”
“Oh yeah, that’s what they all say.”
Neil laughed. “Anyway, he looked even better close-up.”
“I hope you gave him your phone number,” Becky teased.
“Someone in my position has to be responsible,” Neil said.
“Of course.” Becky was smiling.
“Anyway, there I was, the supposed rugby hero, practically melting with passion, wobbly legged, butterflies in my stomach as I spoke to this vision. Nearly wetting myself. I mean, I never felt as nervous before any rugby match. But as usual, Gary and the rest of the lads were waiting for me, and instead of staying with the angel, I had to make some joke for the lads about the hassle of autograph hunters, and go off to the pub and listen to them go on and on about their girlfriends.”
“They were probably just jealous because Ian was chatting you up.”
“Definitely.” Neil smiled inwardly as he remembered how he used to wish that he had blond hair and how he pretended that he was left-handed after he discovered that Ian was left-handed. In some strange way it made him feel like him. But he knew that there were certain things that were too silly to tell even Becky.
“Anyway, what did your admirer say to you?”
Neil sat up, shaking himself from his pleasant memory.
“I haven’t a clue; I just stood there staring.” Neil stopped and grinned when he noticed that Becky was pretending to play a violin.
“Never seen eyes so blue…But d’you know, the funny thing is, I’d say if I had the nerve to suggest a little hanky-panky, I don’t think he would’ve objected,” Neil said.
“Really?” Becky’s eyes widened.
“But of course you’ve ruined my chances now.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, he’s seen you. He’ll assume you’re my girlfriend.”
“I’ll tell him the truth.”
“Yeah, I can just imagine. ‘Here, young fella, yer man over there fancies you.’”
“Give me a break, I’m a little more subtle than that.”
Neil smiled wanly. “It’s a crazy situation. Sometimes I wish I’d never set eyes on him.”
Becky laughed, but then she looked away as she said in a solemn voice, “I know exactly what it feels like, Neil.”
Neil winced; maybe she was going to tell him she was gay.
“It’s the night for baring our souls,” she said, turning to face him, and holding both his hands gently. “D’you swear you won’t tell anyone?” she added in a slightly mocking tone, and Neil smiled to acknowledge the silliness of his earlier insistence.
“D’you remember that bloke I was going out with the time I went to your debs with you?”
“Yeah,” Neil nodded. He remembered all right, the fact that Becky was going out with someone was one of the reasons he had felt safe in asking her.
“Well, he’s married.”
“Really?” Neil gasped, doing his best to contain his surprise.
“Hmm,” Becky muttered, her head bowed now, her face clouded with anguish.
The events of the past few months all fell into place for Neil. Now he realized why he had never met the famous Brian. And why he saw so much of Becky even while she was going out with Brian. The one time he had broached the subject, Becky had been vague, telling him that Brian worked odd hours or something.
“Oh, he promised me the usual,” Becky rolled her eyes, “the earth, moon, and stars…And like an idiot, of course, I believed him.”
Neil said nothing; it was his turn to listen with compassion.
“But when it came to the crunch, he said he couldn’t leave his kids.”
“I’m sorry.” Neil knew it was a stupid thing to say, but he could think of nothing else.
“One thing I’ll warn you about, Neil,” Becky turned to look at him. “Most men are fickle.”
Neil nodded, not really understanding what Becky meant.
“But the worst part is that I’ll never feel like that about anyone again.”
Neil patted Becky’s arm gently.
“That’s why I have to get away for the summer.” Becky was going to France as an au pair.
“I’m going to miss you,” Neil said, and he meant it now more than he ever did before.
“I’ll miss you too,” she murmured, squeezing his hand tightly.
“You better write every day,” Neil smiled.
“And you better write and tell me all about your adventures in gaytown,” Becky said, wagging her finger at him playfully.
“Uh-oh, we have company,” Neil whispered, nodding toward Gary and Trish, who were making their way over to their table.
“Let’s get some tongues wagging,” Becky whispered, grabbing hold of Neil’s hand and resting her head against his shoulder.
“How’s it going?” Neil beamed, watching the surprised expressions of the two new arrivals.
“Who’s for a drink?” Gary asked. Neil shook his head, pointing at their full glasses. He smiled inwardly as Trish sat down opposite them and did her best to pretend that nothing was amiss. But he could sense her delight; at last Neil had joined the rhyming couplets.
“You remember Becky, don’t you?” Neil said to Trish, doing his best not to slur.
“Yes, we met at the debs,” Trish said, formally extending her hand for Becky to shake. Becky nearly overturned the table when she stretched for Trish’s hand. Neil and Becky burst out laughing and Trish forced a faint smile onto her face.
“I believe congratulations are in order,” she said to Neil.
Neil blinked in surprise. Surely she wasn’t referring to his apparent new romance.
“The prize for English,” Trish added quickly, as though she had read his mind.
“Ah yeah, thanks, Trish.” Neil grinned drunkenly.
“My little genius,” Becky said, leaning over to plant a slobbery kiss on Neil’s cheek, but still Trish didn’t bat an eyelid.
Neil noticed Gary giving him the thumbs-up from the bar. Neil winked at him conspiratorially. The ridiculousness of the situation amused him. Here was the guy he had lived next door to since the day he was born, his closest friend over the years, an inseparable pal with whom he had gone everywhere and done everything, and even he didn’t have a clue. Neil recalled the loneliness he felt after Trish had arrived on the scene a year before. His pal was rarely seen after that. If he wanted to see Gary, he had to see Trish as well. And he soon got tired of being the fifth wheel.
“Gary should’ve ordered the drinks off one of the lounge boys,” Becky said, squeezing Neil’s hand tightly.
“Yeah, the lounge staff here is pretty good,” Neil said, and both he and Becky giggled.
“How long have you two been here?” Trish asked, with the short uncomfortable laugh of someone feeling left out.
“That long.” Neil held his hands miles apart.
“Stop boasting, Byrner,” Gary said, rejoining them.
Neil knew it was stupid, but his apparent romance made him feel good. Accepted. Normal. He assumed his friends had discussed the lack of romance in his life. They discussed everyone else so there was no reason to think that he should be excused. He gets too nervous when he’s alone with a girl, he’s too shy, he lacks confidence, he wants to study all the time, maybe he can’t get it up. He could imagine their conclusions. But the
real reason probably never occurred to them. They knew he wasn’t that type. A rugby player! For God’s sake, he won a Senior Cup medal with Blackrock! No way. And, he had slept with Yvonne Lawlor, hadn’t he? Anyway, there isn’t the slightest hint of effeminacy about him. They could point the finger of doubt at a number of other blokes in his class all right, but not Neil Byrne. No, no, certainly not Neil.
Becky stood up and stumbled across the lounge to the toilets. She had lapsed into a state of boredom since Gary and Trish’s arrival. The conversation was much too superficial for her. The moment she disappeared into the ladies’ room, Gary grabbed Neil’s leg.
“You’re a dark horse!” he exclaimed. “How long’s this been going on?”
“Oh, now.” Neil grinned evasively, conscious of his reddening face. Gary licked his finger, touched it against Neil’s cheek, and made a hissing sound.
“You make a good couple,” Trish said approvingly. Neil looked at her to see if she was being sarcastic. No, he didn’t think so. Trish didn’t have a sarcastic bone in her body.
“Here’s to a long and happy relationship.” Gary held his pint glass aloft.
“And a spring wedding,” Neil said, clinking glasses, bringing the expected polite laughter from Trish.
But Neil couldn’t believe that he was actually clinking glasses, joining in one of the sickliest of couple routines, a routine that always reminded him that he was alone. After his admission to Becky, he knew his days of hanging around with the couples were numbered. He sighed with relief when he saw Becky reemerge from the ladies’ room. Then, just as she sat down, the blond lounge boy came over to their table. Neil winced when he felt Becky’s foot press down heavily on top of his.
“How’s it going, Ian?” Gary said.
“Hiya.” But the blushing lounge boy was looking at Neil, returning his friendly smile. Under the table, Becky was rubbing her foot slowly up and down the inside of Neil’s calf.
“Forty pints of Guinness, please,” Neil said, bringing a delightful grin from the lounge boy, who had now begun to wipe down their table. As he stretched to reach the dirty ashtray, Neil had to struggle to prevent himself from touching his hairless arms. Just a friendly little stroke, he thought. No one would notice. And even if they did, he could blame the drink. But he was beaten to it. Gary reached over and patted the perfectly shaped bottom.