The Penn Friends Series Books 5-8: Penn Friends Boxset

by T H Paul

  Keith didn’t say anything. He’d wondered about this moment, pondered what it would be like to come face to face with his father after such an absence, after everything that had been said. After all that Keith now knew. He’d been running for so long, he had started to assume the moment would never come. Maybe he should never have agreed to meet Penny in Blackpool?

  Michael walked over to the one free chair there was, which had been facing Keith. He carried it a little, placing it beside his son. He sat down. The two men remained there in silence for a couple of minutes, both going over a million possible things they could say, neither able to form the words to communicate. Michael placed an arm on his son’s shoulder, but Keith instinctively brushed it off.

  “Too soon,” Michael said, as if resigned to the fact it was not going to be that easy. “Speak to me, son.”

  “And say what, exactly?” Keith himself was now close to tears. He’d not once cried in the ten years since leaving Blackpool.

  “Have you come home? Is that why you are here?” There was so much hope in his father’s voice that Keith wanted to scream at him, to pluck that hope and bury it so deep it would never surface again. The truth was, however, he didn’t know why he’d come. Maybe Keith had wanted this? He’d never admit it in a month of Sundays, but deep inside, perhaps that was what he felt. He wasn’t sure.

  “I didn’t intend them to call you.”

  “I see,” Michael said, sitting up a little straighter. His son had been caught. The call was a courtesy. “Maybe it's for the best that they did call. I mean, I’ve not heard a thing from you in ten bloody years. You show up in Blackpool five years ago, staying in the city for months and scarper the moment I find out, and now you’re here again. How long have you been here this time?” He almost feared to ask the question. Michael had men with their ears to the ground. He wasn’t going to be fooled by his son a second time, and none of them had said anything to him. If Keith were about to say he’d been around for months, it would be a double betrayal.

  “Just got here today. Came here with a girl. Was showing her around the place. It was her car. She gave me permission.” The fact Keith hadn’t stolen anything was actually a relief. Michael was sure he could get this all put away with just a slap on the wrists for a man, he hoped, with no criminal record. Michael had no idea if his son had a clean record or not.

  “A girl? Where is she?”

  “She wasn’t with me. Said I could take the car for a spin. I was having some fun, that’s all. Didn’t hurt anyone. Didn’t do any damage.”

  “Alright. I’ll sort that part with the Chief.” Keith stood from his seat.

  “Can I go then?”

  “Sit!” Michael shouted. There, that anger raged once more, Keith just a boy again, sitting back down immediately, his father’s authority absolute. And yet, just before he’d run away––it was the reason he had bolted, in fact, the reason for a lot of things––Keith had seen through that hard front his father always displayed. Seen it was just an act. Seen the fraud his father really was. “We are a long way from done here, son. We have a lot of talking to do.”

  Again, silence pervaded the room.

  “Let’s hear it then,” Keith said, defiance dripping on every syllable. The two men locked eyes with one another, anger and rage dominating in the younger man’s gaze, a fierce determination in the older.

  “You will respect me!”

  “Respect? Do they all know?” Michael broke the stare, his eyes dropping to the floor. Keith could see shame so evidently present.

  “Of course they don’t. I told you how it was.” Keith couldn’t look at his father.

  “I thought you were the man! I looked up to you, I idolised you, you know. Yes, we had our run-ins, and yes you were a nasty bastard at times, but you were a man! You were a father.”

  “I still am your father!”

  “No, you’re not!” Keith regretting saying that as soon as the words had left his lips, and the blow to Michael was evident. He didn’t really mean it, deep down. He just felt so ashamed, so confused, hurt was easier to hide behind than to deal with reality. There couldn’t be a reality for them anymore. It was long since finished.

  “Son, I’m all you’ve got.” That was true. Keith had been only a small boy when his mother divorced his father. Too young to have known them ever together, too young to remember anything about that part of his upbringing. His father, who had the business and the desire, had been given custody of the son. They’d spent eleven years together until, turning sixteen, his father had opened up somewhat about what had happened. He’d told Keith he did love his mother, that she wasn’t an evil woman for wanting out, but she just couldn’t continue living as they were. They’d been drifting for some time. Michael’s longtime best friend was also dying of AIDS. It was only as Keith was sixteen, deemed old enough to be told the truth, that the full story unravelled. Keith had not been the only male his father had ever loved. His friendship with his best friend had been more than that. They’d been in love, though Michael had stated they’d never been physical. His friend had contracted AIDS via a separate homosexual encounter. It had killed him in less than three years. Keith had been just three at the time. He remembered an Uncle Vince who had died, but nothing more. Michael had talked with his wife, and the marriage had crumbled. At sixteen he’d spoken with his son; his son had fled.

  “Are you still…you know?” Keith still couldn’t bring himself to say it.

  “I told you, son, it was a one person thing. Vince was my soul mate. We were meant to be. It was companionship, friendship. It was never physical.”

  “Stop it!”

  “Keith, you have to get through this! I’m not some raving homo, okay!”

  “But you are! You’re a ponce!” Michael’s fist swung and punched his son in the cheek, hard and fast and so unexpected it knocked Keith from his chair and halfway across the floor.

  “If you ever use such a name against me again, I swear, I’ll beat you so hard they won’t know your head from your arse!” He was livid. Keith got up off the floor, slowly. His face hurt like hell. His father certainly didn’t punch like a ponce, he’d give him that. “I told you. It was only ever Vince. I loved your mother. I love women. I like a good rack just as much as the next bloke, but I’ve never had the type of relational connection with anyone as what I had with Vince. Not even with your mother. I couldn’t live a lie.”

  Keith felt his cheek. His jaw ached, and he rubbed it for a moment.

  “So no one knows?”

  “After the way you took the news, you think I was ever going to mention it to anyone else?” Michael seemed incredulous.

  “The lads at work don’t know.”

  “Of course not! Why does it matter?”

  “Why does it matter? What are you even asking me that for? Of course it matters! Do you want me to tell them all?”

  Michael raised his fist again as if in one punch he would shove all four knuckles right through Keith’s face and back out the other side. Keith took a step back.

  “You tell anyone, and you’re dead. You hear me?”

  “And you wonder why I ran away?” The statement took the sting out of Michael’s anger all of a sudden.

  “What?”

  “All these secrets. You talked with me, turned my world upside down, and then told me not to mention it to anyone. That news gutted me, dad.” Suddenly he was that sixteen-year-old again, standing before his dad. He had also not used the term dad since that day.

  “Son, it was the hardest thing I have ever done. And look what it cost me.”

  “It cost me too,” and he wanted to end that phrase with a repeat of dad. The word sat on his lips but would slide no further.

  “I know. I see that, now. You’re hurting. You’re angry. I see that, son. I do.” Tears were running down both faces, though Keith wiped his away, controlling himself, hemming back the emotion.

  “Everything I thought we were…” Keith started, drilling ba
ck to those early teen years, father and son, the rough and tumbles in the garden, the cosy films they watched together. All the physical contact. “It changed everything. What you told me, what you are…”

  “And what am I?” Michael was focused, anger visible once again. If his son were about to have him picking out dresses and prancing off to the gay bar, Michael would pummel Keith so hard the coppers would have to scrape the remains off the wall.

  “Different. Okay, you are different.”

  “How?” He’d give him the benefit of the doubt, for now.

  “It just changed everything. Changed my outlook on life. I ran because I didn’t know who I was anymore, who you were. I ran because that was what my mother did when she found out the news.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “What?”

  “I told her about it many years before. We agreed to work on the marriage. I just got to the point I knew I would never have the kind of connection with her that I’d shared with Vince. He was gone. I told her the marriage couldn’t continue.”

  “So she stayed with you despite knowing you had eyes after someone else.”

  “I didn’t have eyes for anyone! I told you, it wasn’t physical!” That had been Keith’s one big nightmare. He’d built up the image in the decade that had passed that his father would be openly gay by now. It was the main reason he kept no mobile phone and avoided all other forms of communications. His mates had never mentioned anything, so after a while, Keith had had to revisit that conclusion. Still, hearing now for the first time his father had never consummated anything, it added something back into the mix. All was not lost after all, as it had felt a decade ago and every year ever since.

  “But if you met someone again…I mean, a man, someone like Vince, you would want to get involved?”

  “Get involved? No, son, of course not, and besides, there isn’t anybody like Vince. That’s the bloody point. I lost my best friend, and that changed everything. I had to square that with those I loved. They had to understand that part of me had been buried with him.” Keith let out an audible sigh as if a weight had been released from him, a thick tension that had been eating at him for too long. Suddenly, it wasn’t as grave as he had once feared. Maybe he could stop the running? Perhaps there was a home for him, a job for him, after all? Maybe you could be gay and never act on it? Maybe there was hope?

  Both men stood. They’d travelled so far in the last twenty minutes without much physical movement at all. Michael grabbed his son and embraced him, Keith awkward and resistant to start with––he’d always shunned solid physical contact with another man since he’d been told the news by his father––but after a few seconds, his resolve faltered. He was being embraced by his dad again. Finally. Keith wept heavily as he hung there on his father’s shoulders, neither man at all bothered with the show of emotion being poured out at that moment.

  Twenty minutes later, Michael had cleared everything with the station Chief. The physical change in Keith was evident. A fine was paid, a note put on Keith’s record. Once it was clear the car belonged to a friend, there was no severe crime to prosecute. The two men walked from the station shortly after six in the morning.

  8

  I’d been in the casino all night. It was eight in the morning before I heard again from Keith. I had no idea what had been going on. I was about to see the outworking of it, however.

  I’d found Little Mike, and we’d been playing Black Jack for hours. Big G was nowhere to be seen. We’d soon run into him, not long after Keith arrived back.

  My powers had nothing on what was about to explode. For the first time in a long while, I didn’t know what to do. I had nothing.

  Little Mike had been somewhat reluctant to meet up with Penny. He was due onsite with Michael in the morning as they sized up a new project. Mike had been Michael’s righthand man for several years, a role Keith would no doubt have had himself if he’d still been around.

  Hearing Keith was not with Penny––she was on her own––he changed his plans, which had been to get some sleep, and went to join her instead. She was cute, and he fancied his chances. It had been Penny who had talked him into playing Black Jack.

  “You like to say no a lot, don’t you?” Penny had teased. If there were anything that she knew about Little Mike during the hours she’d got to know him, it was that he often said no. He was the one to close things down, to back out of suggestions and to not commit.

  Little Mike gave no answer. He wasn’t going to say no and prove the point.

  “Have you seen the film Yes Man?”

  “Jim Carrey?”

  “That’s the one,” Penny said. “The power of yes.”

  “You think I need to say yes more often?”

  “I think it wouldn’t hurt.”

  “Depends on what the question is, that’s all.” Little Mike wasn’t going to be swayed so quickly, even if it was a girl with a flirtatious disposition speaking to him.

  “Show me your favourite casino.”

  “I can’t. I have work in the morning.”

  “On Sunday? Come on!”

  “I’m serious. I’m expected in…” and Little Mike looked at his watch as he was speaking, swearing loudly as he confirmed it was only three hours away.

  “Not enough time to sleep, then. You might as well join me.”

  “You play Black Jack?” She never had before.

  “Are you willing to teach me?”

  Little Mike liked the idea of that. There were plenty of things he wanted to teach Penny. “Okay, follow me.”

  By seven Little Mike had received a call from his boss. Michael explained some of what had happened, without going into great detail. It was clear he’d seen Keith. Little Mike told him where they were, Keith evidently still with his father at the police station. Michael was going to push back the site inspection a few hours and wanted to get home and showered. Little Mike agreed to wait in town. Keith joined them at eight.

  The group of three walked out onto the street. All three of them had been up all night.

  “Where’s my car?” she asked, a smile in her eyes.

  “It’s in the police compound. You can collect it later.”

  “Thanks!” But in truth, Keith had done her a huge favour by letting her get out of the car during the chase. She appreciated him all the more for that.

  “You see your father then?” Little Mike said tentatively.

  “Yes, at the station. Police had his number on my file. Woke him up to tell him they had me.”

  “The sods.” Penny was studying Keith carefully. Gone was all the anger and rage that he previously had when any reference was made to his father. Something had happened.

  “And? Did you clear the air?” Little Mike had picked up on it as well.

  “Of sorts.”

  “You sticking around then?” There was a genuine delight in his friend’s tone at that moment.

  “Maybe,” Keith smiled. He’d not yet thought that all through. A little over thirty-six hours ago Keith was thumbing a ride on the edge of London. Now he was in his hometown and had physically confronted his biggest skeleton. Suddenly nothing was the same as it had been. Both Penny and Little Mike smiled. They could see a lot was going on inside Keith at that moment. Penny was keen to change the subject. Too much focus on Keith and he might shut down once more as they’d seen before.

  “Keith, I was telling Little Mike that he really ought to give the word yes a run for its money occasionally.”

  Keith laughed.

  “Get a yes from this guy? He’s the stingiest man I know! He’d charge for bog roll if he could!” Little Mike punched Keith on the shoulder.

  “I’m just careful, that’s all. Looking out for my best interests.”

  “Bollocks! You’re just a tight-fisted knob who likes to say no. But you’re my mate, and that’s just how you are. There’s no changing him, Penny.” Keith was another person.

  “Really?” Penny could change anyone. The t
hought gave her an idea. Make Little Mike agree to everything from now on. “I think you need to give positivity a chance, Little Mike. What do you say?”

  “Okay then, sure.”

  “Blimey, Penny. You’ve done in a day what we’ve all been trying to do for decades!” Keith was laughing.

  “Leave off!” Little Mike shot back.

  “Can I have ten pounds, Little Mike.” Penny needed to test the man’s new gift.

  “Sure.” He reached into his pocket and took a note from the wedge he’d been carrying around. He gave a crisp ten-pound note to Penny.

  “Jeez. Can I have one?” Keith pipped up.

  “Of course,” and Little Mike handed another one to Keith.

  “Can I have the lot?” Keith knew he was pushing his luck. It was probably Little Mike’s weekly wage. Payday was every Friday night. There must have been over four hundred pounds there. Little Mike handed it all to Keith, regardless. Keith swore, laughing to himself as he pocketed the money. Penny wanted to reach out and stop him––this wasn’t quite what she had in mind––but she resisted.

  “Breakfast is on me!” Keith exclaimed as he led them along the road and towards somewhere that did the best fry up he knew. He hoped it was still open.

  They wouldn’t, however, make it that far.

  9

  Everything started unravelling as fast as that weekend pressed on. It was about to reach melting point. I’d never seen a gift implode so quickly as it did that Sunday morning on the streets of a quiet and unsuspecting Blackpool.

  With hindsight, I realise it could have all played out very differently, but I’d stepped in. I’d happened. What had been a crazy Saturday and a chaotic night was going to become a catastrophic Sunday from which there would be no return for two of those involved, and a friendship group would be torn right down the middle as a result.

  How was I to know what conversations had just taken place between an estranged father and son? How was I to know the inner processes of a man I’d only first met on the side of the road less than two days before? I knew none of that then, walking into something far more significant than I think anyone involved realised. I still don’t know everything about it.