by Drew Hunt
I laughed. “Weren’t there any cute male nurses on the ward?”
“Just the one. But I was even more embarrassed the day he bathed me.”
“Why? Your body is perfect.” Now it was my turn to be embarrassed.
“Thanks., but…uh when the male nurse said he wanted to bath me I got an erection.”
I laughed again. “What did you do, apart from turning red and getting hard?”
“I managed to delay him undressing me until it went down.”
“Listen, Mark,” I said, becoming serious. “If you ever need me to relieve you, you know, I…would. I’ve never done it to another person before, so I don’t know if I’d be any good, but I’d do my best to…” My embarrassment was returning full force, but I determinedly ploughed on. “I’d give you a hand.” Then I realised what I said and felt my face get even hotter if that were possible.
Mark laughed. “Thanks.” He too was going a little pink in the face. “I wasn’t sure how I’d take care of that.”
“Just let me know if it comes up.” I scrunched my eyes closed. I’d done it again. “How come the floor never opens up and swallows you when you need it to?”
Mark laughed harder.
“I’ll go and start running the bath,” I said, making my escape.
Turning on the bath taps, I told myself that I’d have to be more careful in future about dropping hints like that. The last thing I wanted was for Mark to feel uncomfortable. However, I reasoned he would have needs and I couldn’t imagine anything more frustrating than not being able to satisfy them. So I thought on balance I’d made the right decision about bringing up the subject. I’d allow Mark to say if or when he actually wanted me to help him out.
I waited until the bathwater had reached the desired height. I also decided I’d better check the temperature, so rolled up my sleeve and dipped my elbow into the water. I chuckled at the image that came into my mind. Mark walked into the bathroom at that point.
“What’s so funny?”
“Did you ever watch the kids’ TV show Blue Peter?”
“Yeah, why?”
“You remember whenever they bathed one of the programme’s pet dogs, they always made such a play of testing the temperature of the water with an elbow. Something about that part of the body being more sensitive to heat.”
“Oh, yeah, I remember now.” He began to chuckle too.
I undressed him, put the bags on his hands, taped them up and helped him into the tub. I knew I’d never tire of looking at his gorgeous—if slightly battered—body.
“I’ll put more witch hazel on your bruises when we’re done.”
“Thanks, I didn’t seem to hurt as much after the last lot.”
“Good. Want me to wash your hair while you’re in here?”
“Please.”
I wet his hair and applied some of the apple-scented shampoo I’d been given for my last birthday. I got a bit turned on at the sensations I felt while running my fingers through Mark’s curls.
“That smells nice,” he said.
“I doubt it’s ever been near a real apple,” I said, “but it still smells nice.”
“It’s great.”
“Right then, time to rinse off.” I scooped up some of the bath water with a large beaker I kept for just that purpose, and repeated the hair washing as directed on the bottle. Normally I didn’t bother re-applying the shampoo, as I’d read somewhere that it didn’t actually clean the hair any further. It was just a way that the shampoo manufacturers got to shift twice the volume of product than was actually necessary. But I was enjoying the feeling of washing Marks hair too much to be prudent about wasting money.
Once I got Mark out of the bath, I pulled the plug and towelled him dry. He went into the bedroom while I ran another bath for myself.
Finished bathing, I put on a clean pair of underpants and went into the bedroom. I asked Mark what he wanted to wear to go out.
“Erm, I think I’d like to wear those 501’s with a white T-shirt and that fluffy crew neck jumper you said looked good on me.”
“It did.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Okay, that’s what I’ll wear then.”
Clothing choices made, I got to work dressing first Mark and then myself. I then had the pleasant duty of brushing Mark’s hair.
“You like doing that, don’t you?” he asked with a smile.
I reddened. “Your curls are great.”
Mark shrugged. “Genetics.”
Hair brushed and coats on, we headed out.
We’d only just turned the corner out of our street when Mark stopped suddenly.
“What’s wrong?” I asked in concern.
“No straws.”
“They’ll have some at the pub, but I probably should go back home, just in case.”
“Thanks.”
“Do you want to carry on walking, and I’ll catch you up?”
Mark nodded.
I headed back to the house. It’s amazing how many things you have to think about when you’re caring for someone with a disability. However, I was more than pleased to be of whatever help I could to Mark. If his hands weren’t bandaged he wouldn’t be with me, and I’d…I didn’t want to complete that train of thought.
On my way back to Mark, I heard raised voices. Getting closer, I could see it was Mr Simpkins, an oily little man who was trying to get into Marks face about something. From what I could pick up, it seemed Simpkins must have been one of Mark’s previous clients, and he wanted Mark to perform for him again. Mark was doing his best to get out of Simpkins way, but with little success. I knew something of this obnoxious example of pond slime, so I inserted myself between them.
“Hello, Mr Simpkins. I saw your good lady wife last week. I hope she’s enjoying that book I managed to get for her on Roman pottery.”
The best description of Mrs Simpkins was “formidable.” I had no problem with her at all. She’d been a regular at the library for years, and I often managed to source reference books on ceramics and pottery for her. She was something of a collector. She—and the henpecked Mr Simpkins—would scour the local car-boot sales to add to her impressive collection.
At seeing me, old Simpkins wilted considerably. I put a protective arm around Mark.
“I was just talking to this, this…”
“Yes, this is my very good friend, Jim.” I remembered Mark’s street name. “I’m sure Mrs S wouldn’t be too pleased to know what you were about to ask Jim to do, would she?”
Simpkins went white. I began to feel a little sorry for the old man. He didn’t have much freedom in his life. Mrs S certainly wore the trousers in their house.
Simpkins turned and fled the scene. I faced Mark, putting my other arm around him and giving him a tight hug. I don’t think anyone saw us. I wasn’t particularly bothered if they had.
“You were great,” Mark said quietly. “I couldn’t have handled him like that. He was one of my…shall we say…less pleasant clients.”
“Don’t worry, love. I’ve got his number. His wife keeps him pretty well under her thumb. I suppose he was just trying to get back some of his macho image, but he absolutely will not do it at your expense. I won’t let him, or anyone else.”
Mark gave me a squeeze. “I’m so lucky to be living with you.”
“I’m the lucky one,” I whispered.
He gave me a final squeeze, then disengaged from the hug.
“You ready to go on?” I asked. “Or would you rather go home?”
“I’m not going to let the likes of him spoil the rest of my life. I didn’t enjoy what I had to do, but I had no option at the time.”
“You’ve got options now. Come on, I think you need a stiff drink.”
“Better stick to something soft ‘cause of my pills.”
“Yeah, sorry.”
We completed the rest of our journey to the pub in silence, but I felt it was a comfortable rather than an uncomfortable one. In a town the size of ours, he was bound to
encounter old clients. Most wouldn’t acknowledge that they knew Mark, but the odd one like old man Simpkins wouldn’t have the brain or the tact to stay away. I’d be there as much as I could to help Mark cope.
We arrived at the White Swan, or the Mucky Duck as it was known by the majority of its regular patrons. Of course Mary hadn’t arrived yet. I don’t think she’d ever arrived anywhere early. I hoped Jerry could come to terms with her timekeeping.
“What’ll it be, gents?” Ron, the barman, asked.
“I’ll have a pint of your best bitter, please,” I replied. I looked at Mark for his choice.
“Tonic water, please.”
“Coming right up.”
“Oh, and could I have a dry Martini for our other guest, who hasn’t shown up yet?”
“Sure. Waiting for Mary?” Ron asked.
“As ever!” I sighed dramatically.
Ron laughed.
Ron put the drinks on a tray, I paid and we went to sit at a table in the far corner. I sat facing the door so I could spot the latecomer when she arrived.
“It’s nice in here,” Mark said.
I nodded after taking a pull on my pint. “Mary and I used to drink here. Mind you, that was in the pre-Jerry days.”
We made small talk until madam Mary showed up. When I spotted her, I winked at Mark. “I wonder what excuse she’ll have this time.”
“Is she often late?”
I grinned. “Almost always.”
“Hello, boys.”
“I got you one in,” I said, pointing at her glass.
“Thanks, I need it.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, just come off the phone to Jerry. He seems to be having a whale of a time out there. Says he misses me, though.”
“Aw, ain’t love grand,” I put in.
“Yes it is. Speaking of which, how are you two love birds getting on?” Fortunately no one was sat close by, and Mary spoke softly.
I was expecting such a comment, but Mark wasn’t. He reddened, but quickly recovered.
Mark put his arm around me and said, “We’re getting along great, thanks.”
This caused me to go red, and Mary to laugh.
“You’ve got a keeper there, Simon.” She smiled.
I looked at Mark and said, “Yes, I think so too.”
Mark just smiled. I began to wonder if he really did think something of me. I’d have to tread very carefully, but his smile certainly lifted my spirits.
“Tell me, Mark,” Mary asked, “Have you picked up any good recipes for Yorkshire Pudding?”
Mark looked confused, and I kicked Mary under the table.
“Ouch!”
“I’m not with you,” Mark said.
I glared at Mary then turned to Mark. “Never mind, I’ll tell you later.”
The three of us spent a very enjoyable evening in the pub. Although I was very much a homebody, I occasionally did enjoy a change of scene, especially when out with such convivial company.
“Well, boys, Dad will be picking me up out front in a couple of minutes, so I better not keep him waiting. I hope you’ll be thinking of me sleeping all on my ownsome tonight.”
Keeping my expression as neutral as I could, I asked, “You could always join us if you fancied a threesome.”
Mary blushed. This was a rare occurrence, so I felt as though I’d scored a minor victory. It was usually me who would end up embarrassed.
“No thanks, I bet at least one of you snores.”
“Who said anything about going to sleep?” Mark put in.
I put a hand over my mouth to stifle a laugh. My man was learning how to handle Mary. Good on him.
“I think I better go while my virtue is still intact.” She smiled. “Look after yourselves, you hear!”
“We will!” we both said together.
This caused all three of us to chuckle.
We escorted Mary to the door, and waited till her dad came to pick her up. Then we made our own way home.
* * * *
“Did you enjoy yourself this evening?” I asked Mark as we lay in bed that night, me spooning behind him as usual.
“Yeah, Mary’s a lot of fun.”
“She certainly is. Feeling tired?”
Mark yawned his answer. “I’ve had a really fun day. Thanks for everything.”
“You’re welcome.” I kissed the back of his neck. “I’ve had fun, too.”
The room fell silent.
I was just drifting off when Mark said, “Simon?”
“Yeah?”
“What was all that about Yorkshire Pudding?”
I chuckled, then told Mark about the silly game Mary and I sometimes played.
He laughed.
Chapter 6
We were sitting at the kitchen table on Sunday morning. I had just cleaned away the breakfast things, pleased Mark’s appetite was still good.
“Do you want to get a start on those benefit forms we picked up yesterday?” I asked. “I doubt if they’ll be processed before Christmas, but the sooner we get it done, the sooner they can start paying you.”
“Yeah, okay. Might as well get it over with.”
I got out the forms. It was amazing what the government needed to know before they’d part with a penny of the taxpayer’s money.
“It’s a good job we went clothes shopping yesterday,” I said.
“Why?”
“Because I just know they’re going to ask for your inside leg measurement,” I said with a straight face.
“You twit.”
“Look, Mark, they want details of what you’ve been doing for the past few years. I know you had a job in a supermarket up in Newcastle, but how do we explain the last 6 months?”
Mark went quiet for a moment. I knew this kind of question would be on the form.
“We tell them I was homeless, it isn’t exactly lying.”
“That’s true!”
I carried on filling in the form. I had to ask him for the answers to many of the questions. After all, I had only known him for a few months, and many of the questions weren’t the sort of things that cropped up in general conversation. After we’d finished, of course Mark wasn’t able to sign the forms, but there was a section which I could sign to say I had filled the forms in for him.
“We’ll need to get you a sick note from the doctor, because obviously you can’t work at the moment.”
“We can ask the nurse about that tomorrow when I have my bandages changed.”
“Good idea. Look, I don’t know about you, but all this form filling has given me a bit of a headache. Do you want to go out to stretch your legs?”
“Yeah, I could do with a walk.”
“Right, we’ll call in at the Chinese take away on the way back if you want. They do a fantastic sweet and sour.”
Mark’s face lit up. “I love Chinese.”
* * * *
There was a small wood about five minutes from the house, so we decided to walk there. Once we’d reached the security of the tree line, Mark put his arm around me. I did the same to him. We continued walking deeper into the woods in a comfortable silence. The only sounds came from the twigs snapping under our shoes and the birds singing up in the trees.
We spotted a fallen tree trunk. Without either of us indicating to the other, we both walked towards it, still with an arm around each other. However, we had to disengage in order to sit. Once settled, Mark put his head on my shoulder and gave a contented sigh.
“Comfy?” I asked.
“It’s so peaceful here. Seems a world away from all the horrible things that’ve happened over the past few months.”
“I know.” I rubbed his arm.
Mark stayed silent for quite some time. He swallowed, then said, “I’m not a bad person. I’m not evil, I don’t go around molesting little kids or anything like that!”
I wondered where all this was coming from. Then I had an idea. “Did your father accuse you of being those things?”
Mark
shuddered. “Yes, it was horrible. I never really got on with him, but when he found me and Danny messing about in my room, he just lost it completely. He hadn’t got over mum’s death, BUT THAT WAS NO EXCUSE!” Mark shouted.
I said as calmly as I could, “No, it was no excuse. Your dad needs to seek professional help for his anger, but you’re out of all that now. You had to leave, and I understand why you had to work on the streets like you did. I’ve never judged you, and I never will.” I pulled him tighter into my chest. “You are a precious and beautiful human being, who—like the rest of us—deserves to be happy.” This certainly was not the time to tell him he was the key to my happiness.
“I never told you all the details of why I ended up selling myself, did I?”
“You said you had no money, nowhere to live, but Jake let you stay at his place, so long as you worked for him.”
“That’s only part of the story. When I got off the bus in town I sat on a bench in the bus station. I had no idea what to do. I must have sat there for hours just glad I’d gotten away from my dad, but I’d run away without thinking where I was actually running to.” Mark let out a long breath.
I kept rubbing his arm, offering silent support.
“It was getting dark, and I was wondering where I could spend the night. Although it was July, it had turned cold. I had only a few minutes at home to pack a bag. I didn’t even bring a coat. Jake found me on that bench. He took me to a cafe and bought me something to eat and drink. I didn’t realise how hungry I was. He talked to me. He really seemed like a kind person.” Mark let out a humourless bark of laughter. “Was I ever taken in by him! He said I could stop at his place that night, and we’d talk about finding me somewhere to live and work the next day.
“Well, to cut a long story short, Jake loaned me some money so I could get a room as a lodger, and said he would see about finding me work. I was walking down the street a couple of days later, I had the money Jake had given me in my pocket, and I was mugged. I’ve never been so scared in my life. I, I, I pissed my pants.” Mark was openly crying by this point.
I hugged him, almost pulling him onto my lap. Stroking his hair, I whispered comforting noises to him, although inwardly I was seething. I bet it had been Jake’s thugs who had mugged Mark.