The Summer of Us

by Lily Morton

  “You know don’t you?” I say baldly.

  “I know many things John. What do you need from me in particular?” he replies cautiously.

  “Cut the crap. Has he been here?” I ask, and his smile dims.

  “Yeah he was here this morning.” He pauses and my heart thumps. “Throwing things around and swearing.”

  “Matty threw things,” I say in consternation and he examines me intently for a second, his head on one side as if he’s reading my mind.

  “Yes Matty. Why are you here John?”

  I slump down on a chair. “I just need to find him and talk to him.”

  “So go and do it.”

  I hesitate. “I don’t actually know his address.”

  He tuts. “You young people nowadays. You fuck a man a few times and don’t get his details.”

  My head shoots up, a flush on my cheeks. “I knew he’d tell you.”

  He looks uneasy. “Don’t judge him, please John. I’m his best friend, the only one that he talks to like that. Don’t be angry because he wouldn’t tell anyone else your business.”

  “I’m not angry,” I say impatiently. “And I could give two fucks who knows anyway.” His face lightens slightly but I’m talking again. “You’re his brother not his friend, and I love that he has someone like that who cares so much for him. I’d never be bothered by it because it’s great.” For a second he stares at me and some of the unease leaves his face and he looks at me kindly. I hesitate and carry on. “It’s just … it’s not like that you know, just fucking. You don’t understand.”

  “What is it like then?” he asks, and I suddenly realise that I’m talking to Matt’s gate keeper. He won’t give me Matt’s address until he knows that I’m going to do right by Matt. I should be angry but I’m actually oddly charmed by this tight knit unit of two.

  “I’m not baring my feelings to you until I’ve spoken to Matt first,” I say clearly. “He deserves to hear it first.”

  His gaze sharpens. “You have feelings then?” His tone sharpens. “Hear what? Have you come to give him a wedding invitation because so help me -”

  “No, no,” I say hurriedly. “I’m not getting married. I asked Bella to leave. Please Bram I just need -” I falter.

  “What?”

  “I need to see him and hold him.”

  He softens suddenly and for the first time he gifts me with his wide, warm, open smile that he gives to very few people. “That’s good John,” he says softly. “You don’t know how happy I am to hear that. Matt’s a diamond. He deserves far more than he ever asks for, and he’s the most loyal, most wonderful person.”

  “I know,” I say calmly, and he examines my face.

  “You really do know don’t you?” he says almost wonderingly, and then visibly comes to a decision. “I’m not giving you his home address.” I open my mouth to argue and he shakes his head. “There’s no point because he’s not there anyway.”

  “Where is he?” I ask fiercely. “Is he with anyone?”

  “No, no,” he says hurriedly. “Jesus calm down John, he’s in Cornwall.”

  “Polzeath?” I recall, and he nods and rattles off the address which I enter into my phone.

  I thank him and get up but he stares at me, running his eyes down me. “Erm don’t you need to get changed or something John because this is Cornwall we’re talking about, not the Caribbean?”

  I look down at myself. I’m still wearing the khaki shorts that I had on this morning. When I’d left I’d simply grabbed my passport and wallet and glasses, thrown on a white t-shirt and kicked my feet into my trainers.

  “Did you just walk straight out of your house and get on a plane?” he asks and I nod.

  “I just had to get here and see him.”

  He smiles and claps me on the back. “Mate that’s fucking awesome. When you go big, you go big.” He wanders over to a cupboard in the hall and reaching in he draws out an Oliver Spencer khaki bomber jacket. “Here,” he says smiling. “Don’t want you freezing before the big meet.”

  “I’ll give it back next time that I see you.”

  He shakes his head and draws me into a hug, slapping me on the back. “No need. You’re family now Johnny.”

  Chapter 13

  Song: ‘Gravity’ by Embrace

  John

  Five and a half hours later I drive up a steep hill and pull up on a narrow road outside a small Victorian semi-detached house. Painted cream it sits on a lane containing two other similar properties and one big Victorian bay windowed house, and all of them look down on the wide golden stretch of Polzeath Beach.

  I get out of the car and stretch, inhaling the salty brine of the cold air and gratefully feeling it wake me up. The village is charming even on an overcast windy day like today, with a little central street containing just a few shops and bars surrounded by steep hills on which houses seem to perch precariously. There are a quite a few tourists about but it still has the air of a traditional seaside village, unlike the brash commercialism of Newquay.

  Turning back to the house I feel my nerves rising but I quickly push them down and march over to the navy front door, and without giving myself time to think I ring the doorbell and then for good measure I bang on the door. A few minutes pass with no answer, so stepping sideways I lean over the colourful window box and peer in through the bay window.

  I can’t see much beyond a large leather sectional sofa with bold coloured cushions and white walls covered in what look like large, bright paintings. I think of his reaction to that painting in Vence and a smile plays around my lips, which dies when I realise that the place has the still look of an empty house. Now what?

  “He’s not there mate.”

  The Cornish drawl comes from behind me and I jerk in surprise, turning to see a tall handsome man wearing a wetsuit and with his dark hair drawn up in a messy bun. He has a set of keys in his hand and is hovering near the house next door, so I presume that he’s Matt’s neighbour.

  “Sorry?”

  He smiles merrily, the lines around his eyes crinkling. “I presume that you’re looking for Matt.”

  “I am,” I say a little stiffly. “Do you know where he is?” I’m expecting him to be wary of giving out information to strangers, but obviously that doesn’t apply to this laidback looking man because he smiles.

  “He’s down on the beach.” He points back to the beach below us in case I missed the wide stretch of sand. My lips twitch and he carries on talking. “Surf’s bloody good today. He’s been out there all afternoon.”

  “Thank you.”

  I move away from the house and he turns, pointing to a set of steps further down the lane. “That’s the quickest way to get down to the beach. Matt’s pile of stuff is the one with the bright blue towel. Go past the house on the edge of the rocks on the left hand side of the beach and there’s a small inlet. His stuff’s there. You can’t miss it as a lot of people are coming in now.”

  “Thanks again. Sorry, I didn’t get your name. I’m John.”

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Jago, Matt’s neighbour.” He waves a casual hand and I immediately make my way down the roughly hewn, steep steps to the beach until finally I’m standing on the sand. I quickly kick off my trainers and carrying them I set off down the beach looking out at the sea where big waves are crashing in and the figures of the surfers are just dots in the distance as they dip and weave in the water. I realise now why Jago told me where to find Matt’s stuff because it would be impossible on a beach this wide to find him, and the surfers all look the same at a distance.

  Keeping my eye out for the house on the rocks I find it quickly and look for the inlet that Jago mentioned. I relax when I see it because Matt’s bright blue towel is there like he said. It’s easily recognisable as his because with it is the battered Quiksilver rucksack that he carries everywhere, and the blue and maroon striped VBN hoody that’s his favourite item of clothing.

  I sink down on the towel, looking out to sea and watching
the graceful moves of the surfers who look like water birds skimming the waves, but gradually the stress of the last few days, the long hours of travelling followed by the five and a half hour drive and the sea air, combine to make me sleepy. After jerking myself awake a couple of times I eventually give in and lie back on the towel and close my eyes. I won’t miss Matt because he’s got to come back for his stuff I think sleepily.

  I come awake with a jerk as a shadow crosses the light behind my eyes and I hear a disbelieving “Johnny?”

  I sit up quickly, hastily wiping the drool away to find him there finally in front of me. He’s wearing a black and red wetsuit that clings lovingly to his lean muscled body and he’s stripped it off to the waist. In the pure pale light of a Cornish beach his skin glows with the tan that he developed in France, and his hair is a shaggy windswept mess.

  For a second his brown eyes seem to eat me up but then he shivers and grabs the spare towel from next to me and rubs it briskly over himself. He seems to hide behind it as he wipes his face and when he emerges he’s composed and his face is set and cold. “What are you doing here?” he asks coolly as he snags his hoody and pulls it on.

  Feeling at a disadvantage I scramble to my feet feeling the coldness of the sand and the sting of rain on the wind that has picked up since I fell asleep. “Well?” he asks, standing very still.

  “I had to see you,” I finally say, the words leaving my mouth and falling into the seeming abyss between us. “I had to tell you something.”

  He flinches and then seems to shut it down, forcing a cool smile onto his normally wide, mobile lips. “Oh, have you come for congratulations?”

  “Congratulations?” I echo uncomprehending, and for a second his eyes flash.

  “Yes, congratulations on your getting married again. Italy wasn’t it?”

  “No!” I burst out and it comes out louder than I intended. I lower my voice as he jerks. “No, I’m not getting married.”

  He stills. “No? Well it’s probably best to take it easy for a bit.”

  “I’m not taking it easy either. I’m not with her.” He looks up sharply. “We broke up, or at least I’m not sure what you’d call it when you split up from your ex-wife who you’re not with anyway.”

  He steps towards me, and it’s now that the real Matt shines through because he takes my arm gently. “I’m sorry Johnny,” he says softly. “I know that you wanted her back.”

  I’m suddenly overcome with emotion. “But I don’t. I don’t ever want her back. I don’t know why I even wanted her in the first place.”

  “But you did,” he says in confusion, and I gesticulate gracelessly.

  “I know that I did, but my eyes are open now and I’ve realised that I don’t want that.” I swallow hard. “I want you.”

  His eyes flare but then inexplicably he looks sad and angry. “You don’t want me John. You’re just in the first flush of finding out that you’re probably bisexual. You don’t want to confuse friendship and gratitude for something more long lasting.” He looks almost pained. “You’ll want to experiment and be with other people.”

  I steel myself. It’s time. “I want to be with you. I don’t want anyone else but you Matt, always just you.”

  His face twists in agony. “You don’t want me, I don’t believe you. You’re just confused. I won’t be your experiment and I don’t want to be second best again Johnny. I was second best to religion with my father and to drugs with Ben. I can’t do that anymore, let someone in and be cast aside, and you don’t know me anyway. Don’t pin your future to someone that you don’t know.”

  “I’m not confused and I do know you.”

  He ignores me and goes to walk past me and I catch his shoulders to stop him, suddenly terrified that he’s made his mind up and won’t give me a chance. I hate the feeling that he thinks he’s second best to anything. “Look,” I blurt out. “Ask me what Bella’s favourite colour is.”

  He shrugs angrily and tries to go past me again and then huffs when I won’t let him. “I don’t know John, what is Bella’s favourite colour?” he intones in a fuck off voice that makes me smile a bit.

  “Fuck knows, probably yellow since she wears so much of it.”

  “Wow John that’s really interesting, now let me by.”

  “No. Now ask me yours.” Before he can speak I start babbling. “Yours is green, but the soft clear green not emerald because that’s too harsh. Your birthday is December 10th which makes you a Sagittarius which apparently means that you’re energetic, optimistic and active. I say apparently because I don’t fucking believe in any of it, apart from the bit that says that my being an Aries makes me your perfect match.”

  He laughs involuntarily but I carry on spewing out facts, looking nothing like a person whose job depends on him using words to make clients see things his way. I gesture at his hoody. “Your favourite item of clothing is your stripy VBN hoody which you take everywhere and always put on after surfing because it’s worn soft from age. Your favourite film is the ‘Lord of the Rings’ trilogy but the extended versions, and it is one film because it’s the same bloody story. However, if out on a date you might say a Quentin Tarantino film just to make yourself look clever. Your favourite food is crunchy nut cornflakes which you eat at the oddest times of the day and night. You and Bram can quote more of the ‘Little Britain’ scripts than David Walliams or Matt Lucas ever could. Your favourite song is ‘Protection’ by Massive Attack, but if Bram asks it’s ‘Final Warning’ by Beggar’s Choice. You start off sleeping curled up in a nest of covers but always by morning you are star fished across the bed with no covers at all, while I’m relegated to a tiny corner and if I’m lucky an inch of the duvet from the floor, and I still think that I’m lucky because I’m sharing a bed with you.”

  His face contorts like a small boy trying not to cry

  I pause for breath looking at his face which shows that warm, clear expression that I love. “The point is,” I say quietly. “I know everything about you because you fascinate me because -” I pause and swallow hard. “Because I love you, and you’re so fucking special to me.” His head shoots up, shock written on his face and then a blinding joy that relaxes and enervates me at the same time. “I’ve never been bothered enough to know these things about any previous lovers. I really couldn’t fucking care less before you, and if that makes me a bastard then so be it because I’m your bastard.”

  I come to a stop to find him looking at me with awe and I puff up a bit in the face of what I’m sure will be praise, as surely I can’t have been as bad as I thought I was.

  “My God sweetheart do you actually argue for a living?” I sag and glare at the piss taking fool’s face. His voice is full of suppressed laughter. “No seriously babe we should find you a different career where speech isn’t necessary. What jobs take a vow of silence?”

  I shrug helplessly trying not to laugh but suddenly his face transforms in front of my eyes into this soft, private so intense look, and he steps forward and cups the back of my skull until I’m so close that I can see the gold flecks in his warm brown eyes. I close my eyes helplessly for a second at the relief that runs through me at feeling his touch again, but they shoot open with his next words.

  “I love you too Johnny, so, so much. More than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life. You’re my home, my best friend, my safe place.”

  I lean forward and rest my head against his neck, inhaling his scent and feeling an intense wave of relief and joy flood through my veins, but one little doubt niggles. “What about the best fuck that you’ve ever had?” I ask in a small voice. He’s been with men who’ve got this gay thing down pat. How can I compete with that?

  He chuckles, the sound reaching the base of my stomach so that I can feel it in my balls. “It’s not fucking with you Johnny, it’s making love, and everything with you is just so much better. It feels unbelievable because it just feels like more with you.” He shrugs. “I’ve not fucked you yet so I can’t judge that, but when you’r
e ready it will be the best, I just know it here.” He places my hand over his heart and I turn his hand in my grasp until I’m holding it firmly.

  “I want you to,” I say in a low voice. “I want you to have everything of me Matty. I want to be totally yours.”

  “Johnny you already are sweetheart. Everything that you are is mine. Your arrogance, your vulnerability, your ability to make me laugh harder than anyone does, your kindness and your loyalty. They’re all mine and I will protect everything that you give me fiercely because you’re mine.”

  “God, all yours,” I whisper. “I love you so fucking much. Please don’t ever leave me.”

  “Never,” he says solidly, and his kiss on that rainy beach as we sway in the wind clutching each other tightly, is both a welcome home and a vow to the future, and for the first time in my life I totally let go with someone, secure in their love.

  Ten minutes later we crash through the front door of his cottage and Matt kicks it shut with a vicious swing of his leg before pinning me up against the whitewashed wall. “Oh my God I missed you so much sweetheart, so fucking much.”

  “I missed you too,” I gasp between frantic kisses which seem like he’s trying to devour me. He presses his full weight against me and I moan at the feel of his hard cock pushing against my own.

  I pull back gasping and grab his beloved face in my hands, seeing his warm brown eyes glowing with love and affection. Suddenly everything calms inside me and all the previous nerves fall away. “I want you to make love to me,” I say in a low voice, watching his pupils grow large with shock and arousal, but typically for Matt he won’t do anything that he thinks I don’t want.

  “Are you sure?” he murmurs, running his hands gently through my hair so that I tilt my skull like a cat almost purring.

  “I’m sure,” I say clearly. “I need it Matt. I need to feel you inside me. It’s what I want.”

  He closes his eyes looking pained but when he opens them his manner has subtly changed, his body leaning harder against me and his hands firmer as they grab my shoulders and twist me to face a set of stairs. “Get upstairs then,” he says, his voice hoarse and commanding. “I want the person I love most in the world naked in my bed in the place that I love best of all.”