by David Menon
Coming to gigs at Abigail’s pub also gave him the opportunity to spend time with his eldest son Harvey. He was fourteen and already was taller than either Ben or his mother Abigail. They sat together at a raised table at the back of the concert hall part of the pub. Ben was nursing his second VB and Harvey was into his third coke. The band was loud and father and son tried to talk between songs but it wasn’t easy. It wasn’t the time. The crowd were there to hear the tribute band’s renditions of classic INXS songs like ‘New Sensation’, ‘What You Need’, ‘Original Sin’, ‘Disappear’, ‘Never Tear Us Apart’, and ‘The Gift’. He found the band to be pretty accurate in their performance of the INXS trademark blend of rock and funk and the lead singer had all the swagger and absolute stage presence of Hutchence himself. This was a class tribute act. This was a band who’d done their homework on the original. He jumped off his stool and started dancing away to the music. It was a relief. It helped him forget even for a minute or two all the shit that was going through his head about the circuit and what they’d been able to do. And were still doing. He needed this release. He needed this time off from it all. He just hoped he wasn’t embarrassing his son with all his Dad dancing.
‘You’re dancing a lot better than some of the Dads here, Dad’ said Harvey.
Ben looked round. ‘Do you really think so?’
‘But that’s because you’re much younger than most of those oldies’.
‘So that’s an advantage as far as I’m concerned then?’
‘Yea but don’t let it go to your head’.
Ben couldn’t help but smile. He put his hand through Harvey’s hair and ruffled it. ‘I get a compliment from my son. Would you Adam and Eve that’.
Ben and Harvey then got deep into conversation about politics. Harvey had opinions that were very much on the left of the political spectrum and some of them chimed with Ben’s own perspectives. Ben then went up to the bar and ordered more drinks for himself and Harvey. He was laughing about something or other with the bartender when out of the corner of his eye he noticed Abigail in her office to the side of the bar shaking hands with that twisted fuck Chief Constable Ronald Hermitage. What the fuck was he doing there?
Hermitage came out of Abigail’s office looking very pleased with himself and it was a look that was greatly enhanced when he spotted Ben.
‘Ah, Masters’ said Hermitage. ‘Are you enjoying the show?’
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Oh come on, Masters. Just because you fuck the owner of this place doesn’t mean I can’t come down here and do business’.
‘Watch your mouth, Hermitage’.
‘Oh and what are you going to do if I don’t? Hit me? You really would be out of a job then’.
‘You chose this place on purpose because you know about my relationship with Abigail and because our son lives here too’.
‘You really do suffer from the old paranoia don’t you?’
‘The only thing I suffer is you, Hermitage, and that’s only because I have to. For now’.
Ben left Hermitage wondering what he’d meant by that and went marching straight into Abigail’s office.
‘Do you mind telling me what business you were doing with Hermitage?’
‘Oh and good evening to you to, lover’ said Abigail who stood up and threw her arms round his neck. They kissed and snogged for a while before getting back to business.
‘So what was he doing here, Abigail?’
‘He’s booked this place for the police benevolent fund dinner and dance. Why, do you know him?’
‘Oh yes’ said Ben. ‘He’s part of the circuit and he’s trying to force me and my new boss out of my job’.
‘Oh Christ, Ben, I didn’t know. I’m sorry’.
‘It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault’.
‘If I’d have known he was part of the circuit then I’d have turned him down outright’.
‘Well he knew about us’ said Ben. ‘Which makes me convinced that this is no coincidence’.
‘Christ Ben you give me the bloody shivers’ said Abigail who was used to dealing with the lowest of low life in the pub game but she’d got the feeling from Hermitage that he could probably win medals for the UK in dirty dealing. She’d been happy to do business with him but she wouldn’t trust him as far as she could spit. And now Ben was giving her every reason for her misgivings.
‘He’ll have an ulterior motive. I know that’.
‘Ben, I’m so sorry’ said Abigail. ‘He’s paying me the top rate and he’s already put down a fifty percent deposit. I can’t turn him down now, I mean he’d want to know why and what could I tell him that wouldn’t get you deeper into difficulties with him. I just don’t know what else to say’.
‘Babe, you weren’t to know. How could you? But look, I’m going to go back and spend some quality time with our son. We’re actually connecting tonight which is great’.
‘And nobody is more pleased about that than me’ said Abigail. ‘Now you go to him. Nightcap later once the band have finished?’
‘You bet’ said Ben. ‘And by the way, the band are brilliant, I mean seriously good. Close my eyes and just listen and I can see Michael Hutchence up there’.
‘I must say they are pretty good’ said Abigail who then started dancing around. ‘And they’re making me a whole stack of money at the bar too’.
‘Spoken like the true publican’.
‘Get out of here’ said Abigail, winking at him. ‘And I’ll see you later. Oh, and are you staying the night?’
‘If I’m invited?’
‘Since when have you needed an invitation?’.
Ben smiled knowingly and then went back to their son Harvey. It was so lovely to be somewhere where he didn’t feel like he was a stranger in his own life.
Ken Stratton luxuriated in the tingling feeling he got right through to his fingertips after he and Nathan had made out. If Nathan was a habit then it wasn’t one he was prepared to give up anytime soon but as he cradled him in his arms in their post coital state he couldn’t help but feel just a little bit guilty. Just a little bit though. He didn’t want to go overboard. He didn’t want to think that Nathan’s feelings actually mattered because in the grand scheme of his deceitful life they didn’t. His wife Daphne knew about his same sex proclivities and she’d decided to turn a blind eye if it meant maintaining the status of remaining married to an aspiring politician who everybody in the political world expected to go as high as he wanted. And that meant that she would breathe in the status that went with his position. She’d done her duty and pushed out a couple of kids for him and she wasn’t that interested in sex anyway. So he could get it elsewhere with whoever he wanted so long as he never got involved and that nothing would ever threaten their marriage. Those were the rules and Daphne was the one he had to keep sweet. Boys like Nathan could always be bought off if it came to it. They always had their own price. Except, in Nathan’s case, Ken got the feeling it might not turn out to be so easy. He was a smart boy. And smart boys work things out for themselves which was something Ken would have to watch. Nathan was no fool even though he sometimes needed buttering up a bit.
‘I’m sorry, Nathan’.
‘Sorry? What are you sorry about?’
‘Well I wish it could be like this every night’ Ken admitted. That bit was the truth. He wished he could share this with Nathan every night.
‘Look, I get it’ said Nathan who was always quick to reassure. He didn’t want to put Ken off. ‘I’m involved with a married man. It goes with the territory and I’m just grateful for what we can share’.
‘Do you really mean that?’
‘I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t’.
‘But you deserve so much more than I can give you, Nathan’ said Ken. He did like to push it with Nathan. He liked to hear him say how much of a sacrifice he’d made to be with Ken and how much he was willing to continue doing it.
‘I’ll be the judge of what I need, thank you’.
‘I’m just thinking of you’ said Ken who, without looking at Nathan’s face, knew he was getting the response he wanted. An admission of sacrifice. Always good to hear.
‘I know and I appreciate that’ said Nathan. ‘But at least we get a break from each other. I mean, I work with you, I sleep with you. I’m glad to get a break from you sometimes’.
‘Oh I see it’s like that is it?’
‘Well you’ve got Daphne and the kids and I’ve never lived with anyone’ Nathan reasoned. Perhaps it is best that we’re not joined at the hip’. He was lying. There was nothing he’d want more than to look after Ken within a normal one-to-one relationship. But he didn’t like to make waves.
‘I suppose you could be right’ said Ken. He didn’t like this. He liked his lovers to sound completely crestfallen because they couldn’t be with him all the time. He was having to get used to Nathan being more rational and able to control his emotions.
‘You know what I mean’ said Nathan. He’d grown used to keeping his feelings close to his chest and his mouth shut tight even when he should be screaming out that his relationship with Ken was all about what Ken wanted and that whatever he himself wanted just didn’t count. He’d already worked that out even before the first kiss was over and Ken could plead his corner all he liked. If he said it all loud enough he might even believe it himself.
‘Yes, I do’ said Ken. He squeezed Nathan tight and kissed him. He couldn’t live with him though. On a very practical level he wasn’t as good a cook as Ken’s wife Daphne. Also, Nathan would probably insist on maintaining his own career and Ken wouldn’t be able to accept that. He had to be first, first, and first again in the eyes of his spouse. That’s why he’d married Daphne. Because she’d agreed to giving up her career to support Ken in his. Because she’d agreed to look after everything in the house and to have everything ready for Ken when he needed it because he was her number one priority. He couldn’t be in a relationship with someone who viewed their life as being as important as his. He needed someone to give up everything for him. And Nathan was so untidy too. Quite often Ken would have to step around things that Nathan had thrown aside as if collectively they all made up a piece of modern art. He thought that Nathan could also do better when it came to furnishing his flat. It was all about the everyday chic of IKEA. It was all very nice, Ken conceded to himself, but it had all arrived in a flat pack whereas when he and his wife Daphne wanted a bookcase they employed a carpenter to make them a piece of furniture. It had caused quite an argument between him and Nathan on more than one occasion. Nathan didn’t think that Ken had a right to criticise him considering that Ken’s purchasing power was so much greater than Nathan’s. If ever there was a flash point between them then it was Ken’s barely disguised criticism of Nathan’s budget induced taste in furniture because it exposed for Nathan the sheer arrogant hypocrisy of Ken’s stance on life. But it was what he had to put aside.
‘You know what?’ said Ken as he held Nathan in his arms. Because despite all the other considerations he loved lying naked in Nathan’s bed with him and feeling the sensation of Nathan’s breath so close.
‘Tell me?’
‘Well it’s just that I don’t know what I get excited about most’ Ken went on. ‘The feeling of anticipation before I come round here knowing what will happen between us, or the feeling of absolute peace and satisfaction after we’ve done it. What would it be for you?’
‘Both. All of it’ said Nathan who kept his hand running across Ken’s chest and his upper arms. ‘I get excited knowing you’re coming round. But then I love the feeling we have right now. I love it all!’
‘That’s because you’re a dirty bastard’.
‘You’d noticed?’
‘Just a touch’ said Ken.
‘By the way, I know you don’t really like talking about work when we’re together like this … ‘
‘… but?’
‘Well it’s just that I’m surprised that you turned down the request for a meeting from those people who want you to be the patron of their charity that represents the families of murdered children. I mean, with your own family history in that area which is why they approached you obviously. Apart from it being a great cause it would also be a great way of showing all the progressives that you’re more than capable of taking over traditional Labour territory and playing them better at their own game. It would show a more caring and compassionate side to how we’re perceived. It would chime so brilliantly with how the PM is talking up our conservative party as the party of working people’.
‘Even though we all know that it’s pure posturing on her part’.
‘But it’s something we could do, Ken. Think about it. We could go into Labour heartlands with a totally different message but one which resonates with the section of their flock who flirt with the UKIP idiots’.
‘The white working class good old boys and girls’.
‘The very same’.
‘The ones who would shriek in horror if they could see the two of us right now’ said Ken. ‘They’d think we really had sold out to the metropolitan city elite and had stopped representing their values’.
‘Which are homophobic’.
‘By and large, yes’ said Ken. ‘And Nathan, we don’t have that many pockets of Labour support in our constituency. That’s why I’m sitting on a majority of over twenty thousand’.
‘But I’m thinking of your wider appeal when you go for the leadership, Ken’ said Nathan who sometimes wondered why he was working for a Tory politician. His own views were much more in tune with Labour or even the Greens but he’d sort of fallen into it. He’d needed to earn money. His parents weren’t able to subsidise him any further than they had done whilst he’d gone through university and when this vacancy came up he’d taken a deep breath and gone for it. Scruples and principles were all very fine for those of his course mates who came from families who could afford for them to hold out for the right job. Some of them had gone travelling and Nathan had been itching to see Europe but he couldn’t contemplate being in a foreign country and ringing up his parents to ask them to transfer some money to him if he’d found himself in a tight spot. They’d have done it but they wouldn’t really be able to afford it and would get into debt over it. He couldn’t have done that to them.
‘I don’t know if I want all that bleeding heart stuff to be part of my wider appeal’ said Ken. ‘I want to offer a distinct right-wing choice. Anyway darling, concentrate on what winds me votes in North Cheshire, apart from just the fact that I’m a Tory. And from that my wider appeal will emerge’.
Nathan sighed irritably. There were times when Ken was the most pretentious bastard. ‘But coming back to the murdered children charity’.
‘If you must’.
‘Well you’ve never told me what actually happened to your sister’.
‘She went missing. She was found dead’.
Nathan pulled himself up and looked at Ken. ‘Yes, I know that much, lover. I mean, what actually happened the day she went missing’.
Ken paused before answering. ‘Imelda was seven years younger than me and we weren’t exactly close. She went to school one morning, we know that she left school that afternoon, but she never made it home. Their bodies were found on some park land about half a mile away’.
‘And where were you living at the time?’
‘In Knutsford where my parents still are’ Ken answered. ‘Her school was near to the train station’.
‘I can’t imagine how your poor parents must have felt. It’s the wrong way round for a parent to bury a child’.
‘Well it’s because of them that I can’t become patron of the murdered children’s charity, Nathan’ said Ken. ‘I can’t bring it all up again in such a public way. Don’t you see? You’re the one with the compassionate heart. Don’t you see it would be too much for them? So no, Nathan. They’ll have to find somebody else’.
‘But it might lead to you finding out who was responsible
? They’ve never found who it was and she was found with that other little girl, wasn’t she? Vanessa Hermitage? Wasn’t she the daughter of the current Greater Manchester chief constable?’
‘Yes, that’s right. Imelda and Vanessa were great friends’.
‘Well surely it might give both sets of parents some kind of closure on it all?’
‘Nathan, you’re a sweet, kind man with the best of intentions. But like I said before, I said no and I meant no. Now please listen to me when I ask you not to bring it up again’.
NINE
Manchester had always been able to boast an enviable nightlife but in recent years it had taken on an even greater vibrancy. Justin Costello was a Manchester boy born and bred and all his life he’d wanted to own some flashy joint in the centre of the city where all the ‘in’ crowd wanted to be seen hanging out and enjoying themselves on his overly priced drinks. He’d now built up a business that was an essential part of Manchester’s social scene and he’d modelled it on the open air Sky bar that he’d been to in Singapore whilst on holidays and fallen in love with. But unlike the Sky bar which was on top of a hotel, ‘Costello’s’ occupied the roof of a 12 storey office block just at the start of Oxford Road. The view over the city had now become a popular image in the depiction of Manchester around the world. The bar had been featured in various lifestyle magazines and Sunday paper supplements from as far afield as Australia, South Korea, Chile and right across Europe. It was now on the ‘must see’ list for visitors to the city and Justin and his staff welcomed patrons from all parts of the globe. When the weather became inclement a canopy would come half from the left and half from the right at the touch of a button to cover the faithful and the place was decked out with lots of plain green fauna and the black leather seats together with the low tables were all fixed to the floor to save them being blown about when the wind gets up. Justin was more than pleased that ‘Costello’s’ was busy most nights, peaking as expected on Friday’s and Saturday’s when the direct lift from ground level brought up the serious party goers. Justin was there most nights, in his suit and tie, staying in the background whilst keeping a watchful eye on proceedings even though he employed a duty manager to make sure the music wasn’t too loud and the customers didn’t get too wasted. He had screens in his office that showed various CCTV images from around the bar which helped with security. Nobody had ever tried to commit suicide by going over the top or got drunk enough to show off in front of their mates about how not scared they were of being so high up, but then again all around the edge were connecting panels of reinforced glass that sloped upwards. This would make it rather difficult for anyone to try any death defying antics. Although Justin was planning to pull back a little he also liked to be there to personally greet the celebrity element of his clientele who ranged from actors in Manchester produced TV series to presenters of TV shows and some of the biggest names in sport. But it had been pointed out to him by his wife Dolores that there was no point in employing managerial staff if he was going to keep casting his shadow over everything and she didn’t want to be the only parent who put their three kids to bed in the beautiful new detached place they’d bought in the Cheshire town of Wilmslow. He did want to spend more time with Dolores and the kids who were growing up so bloody fast it was almost frightening at the pace at which they were changing. But he was just finding it hard to let go of his other baby. He’d worked his arse off to get ‘Costello’s’ to the position it was in and he was determined to work his arse off to make it stay there.