by T. L. Clark
“How unusual. I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone your age with such an ambition.”
“Well numbers have always just been ‘my thing’. They make sense to me and I enjoy mathematics.”
“Hmm…very well,” he said as if he was passing judgement, which of course he was. “And what does your father do?”
Tina’s breath hitched and she flinched a little. She’d not expected that question, at least, not yet. It came at her like a side swipe. She paused to take a sip of her drink to give herself time to compose herself.
“He’s away. He’s in the army.”
Fortunately, this fabrication had been constructed long ago by her mother, so it tripped off her tongue without too much trouble. But she still felt unsettled.
“Oh, I see. That must be a struggle. Do you move around a lot?”
“Oh no. He gets sent away, but my mother had always told him she didn’t want to move from town to town. We really don’t see much of him, but she thinks it’s better for my education this way.”
“Well, that sounds like good reasoning to me. So, your mother takes care of you and the house?”
“Yes, and a million other people.”
This caused the eyebrow to get raised in her direction again, so she explained, “She’s a nurse.”
“Ah, a veritable Florence Nightingale, eh?”
“Something like that,” Tina agreed glumly.
Mind you, she pondered to herself, she also had a reputation for being a bit of a hardnosed bitch, didn’t she?
A little smirk appeared on her face, but it went unnoticed as Frank had chosen that moment to take hold of her hand to give it a squeeze.
Her smirk turned into a smile at her friend. His eyes were glistening in wonder at how well she was doing.
Not many would stand up to his father’s scrutiny, yet there she was shining like a star.
The interrogation continued over dessert, but finally they were allowed to escape up to Franks’ room.
“Don’t get up to any funny business, mind you,” his father warned, whilst secretly hoping they did, just to assuage any last suspicions he had.
But for now he was satisfied that that nasty phase had passed, and his son was indeed not gay.
He let a sigh of relief escape as he admitted that thought to himself. The young couple certainly had run up those stairs giggling like a pair in love.
Again, that almost smile (maybe gas) look crossed his facial features.
Once safely ensconced in his room, Frank gave his friend a hug and whispered, “I can’t believe you just did that. Thank you so much. I owe you big time.”
Tina breathed out long and slowly, “Phewww, I’d say you’re welcome but oh my God, is he a former member of the Gestapo or something? Wow!”
“I’m so sorry. I never thought he’d be that bad.”
“Well, it’s all over with. So what do we do now?” she asked with a naughty smile.
“Be-have,” he mocked. “I think I have some etchings around here somewhere, if you care to look?” he winked wickedly.
“Well, as I know you must actually have some artwork I will gladly accept your kind offer,” she grinned. Frank delved into the back of his wardrobe, where he’d stashed a portfolio away from his parents’ prying eyes.
“These are the ones about them,” he confessed, pulling out some pieces of paper.
“Your mum’s really quiet,” Tina said as she started looking at the pictures.
“I don’t think she has much choice. You’ve met my father.”
“Yeah, she’d struggle to get a word in edgewise.”
“I do worry about her. Not that dad would ever hurt her, or anything. But she just seems so hidden. It’s almost as if she’s not there. Her job is to keep the house looking nice and to put food on the table. I don’t even know how or why they got married.”
“Why don’t you ask them?”
Frank’s raised eyebrow made her laugh. “Oh no, I know where you get that from now.”
“What?”
“That questioning eyebrow thing you do; it’s just like your dad.”
“No. Oh my God, please tell me I’m not like him,” he pleaded urgently.
“Calm down. It’s only one mannerism. I don’t think it qualifies you as his exact copy or anything.
“These are great,” she added, quickly changing the subject, referring to the pictures. “This one, I can really see your father in it.”
It was a close up of a face, painted in reds and blues. The anger was blatantly obvious. But at the same time it was featureless. It was a mass of jagged patterns.
“I hope he never sees it. I’m not sure he’d get it, but I don’t want to take that risk.”
Tina carried on flicking through. She started to get really worried about her friend; there were pages and pages of hurt and anger.
Then she came across an image done in the softest pastels. It was like a meadow of delicate flowers.
Tina could almost smell their gentle scent wafting on a breeze. It was as if one was looking at the meadow through a soft misty haze. You could see the colours, but only faintly.
“Your mother,” Tina stated.
Frank nodded, biting his lip. Tina rubbed his upper arm.
“She’ll be OK,” she told him.
“I hope so,” he sighed.
Chapter 8 – New Beginnings
Now, some may think, well Tina has done her duty and that was that. But over the course of the next year there were several invitations to Frank’s house, and each time she had to sit through a dreadful formal meal, and keep up the pretence of her role as girlfriend.
It was torture, but what else could she do? Frank was her only friend and she wanted to protect him.
Fortunately, she managed to invite Frank round to her house more (obviously when her mum was at work), and they had many fun evenings together chatting and drawing.
One project they set themselves was to do a portrait of each other.
They were both fine pieces of art, but staring out of the eyes of each was a galaxy of hurt and pain, a sadness which is hard to explain, but it was there nonetheless.
They silently acknowledged each other’s misery; some things don’t need to be said out loud, and this was certainly one of those things.
They both worked incredibly hard at college, each spurred on by the compulsion to leave home and become independent, desperate to make another life for themselves.
A huge break for freedom came in the form of driving lessons.
They both passed their driving tests, but only Frank’s father could afford to buy a car, and he kindly put Tina on the insurance, as they lived fairly close to each other, and he was happy to encourage the heterosexual relationship in any way he could.
The joy of this newfound freedom was unimaginable. The two could go anywhere they wanted when they wanted.
On weekends in dry weather they would drive out and find scenes to draw, the forest still being one of their favourites. There were always different flowers or animals or plants to capture.
And when they were trapped alone in their own darkness at home they would gaze upon the happy times and escape into the pages, reminiscing on the feelings of freedom.
The pair were thought of as a couple, not only by Frank’s parents, but their classmates at college too.
They spent all their free time together, and so people naturally assumed they were ‘an item’.
They were both scared of relationships; Frank was terrified his father would find out, and more than a little nervous what he would do with a boyfriend.
Besides (he tried to convince himself), there were very few gay boys at college, and fewer still whom he fancied. He almost convinced himself there was nobody eligible for him.
Tina too was happy to hide behind the façade. Given her previous horrendous experience of having a boyfriend she really was in no hurry to fail again.
She couldn’t even bring herself to masturbate properly,
let alone have sexual relations with another human being. Each time she tried to pleasure herself she had flashbacks of her childhood.
Tina was incredibly resourceful, and had (with the help of her tutor) managed to get a job as an office junior in an accountancy firm. The pay was poor and she was there to do the menial office tasks, which she found boring, but they supported her to obtain her AAT (Association of Accounting Technicians) qualification, with a view to her then going on to study for ACCA (Association of Chartered Certified Accountants).
She started her job just as soon as college was over. Her mother of course, demanded some of her earnings, but she managed to squirrel away some savings and petrol money.
With Frank at university she was now custodian of the car (as he wasn’t allowed it on campus).
Frank had found a Fine Art undergraduate course locally and managed to convince his father it would lead to a reputable enough job (as an art gallery curator).
His first year (like most other students) he stayed in ‘halls’. His father was reluctant on this too, but he eventually saw the benefits of him socialising with people his own age, and how he’d learn more if he had continuous contact with his fellow students (as Frank had put it to him).
Frank was soon initiated in the rights of passage (otherwise known as Fresher’s Week). He learned that he got drunk very quickly, with some rather unpleasant after effects, but he was not alone in this.
And being on a course with likeminded people, he actually managed to get a good group of friends. For the first time in his life he felt accepted by his peers.
This was bliss; freedom and happiness. What more could he want? His father’s watchful eye was no longer upon him 24/7, and he was making his first steps into the world.
He felt independent (even though his father was bankrolling his studies etc.). He could do as he pleased; no pretend girlfriend required (unless he went home).
His group of friends were a motley crew really. Most of them were on his course, but there were a few ‘randoms’ too.
Take Fiona’s boyfriend for example; he was studying Chemistry and seemed to have the opposite personality of his girlfriend. Frank was half expecting Fiona to produce an extraordinarily beautiful yet surreal image of some sort of organism or strand of DNA, perhaps in dark Gothic colours, being Fiona.
She did tend to stray towards the dark side, but then that’s why he liked talking to her. They could have great conversations on the intricacies of life, and different people’s perspectives of it.
They would sit for hours deep in conversation about the merits of embracing light from the darkness, seeking passive resolutions to conflict etc.
Fiona seemed to think that only when you’re enveloped in total darkness can you find the purest light to combat it. Frank hoped she was right. If it was one thing he knew it was darkness.
Some of the group had been friends for years. That’s how Jake ended up joining their social group, despite studying Law and coming from a different social scene initially.
He was friends with Andy, who was on Frank’s course. And, as it turns out Jake had a good appreciation of art too, which drew Frank’s interest in his direction.
Of course, it had nothing to do with the fact that Jake was supremely good looking and had a ‘naughty boy’ smile, or anything.
No, Frank was just attracted to Jake’s intellectually stimulating conversation. Well, OK, other things may have been stimulated by him too. But Frank wasn’t going there.
They did all have one thing in common, apart from being at university; they all loved to have a good time. I know, shocking, right?
They all went clubbing (naturally), but they also loved their coffee culture. Any combination of the gang could often be found in their local coffee house at different times, discussing any number of topics, but of course, art was the most common of these.
One of them laughed about how they were the modern Pre-Raphaelites. The group had a great dynamic, liking an eclectic mix of artists and styles, from A’Becket to Zynsky, from Abstract Expressionism to Symbolism, including painting, sculpture and installation.
The more Frank explored art movements, the more he was drawn to Romanticism. He liked the emotional depths the artists plunged into, often blending heroes with dramatic landscapes. It seemed to resonate with his own inner turmoil.
He reached out for a softer, brighter, more beautiful life out of the turmoil of his childhood. Attempting to paint in this style let his creative juices flow more rapidly, and gave him a place to explore remote and exotic worlds.
Without fully realising it, by delving into the realms created by the likes of Carl Gustav Carus, Caspar David Friedrich and Eugene Delacroix, Frank was seeking a deeper spiritual truth, something that would give him meaning or purpose in his life.
Sometimes he’d look at their work and think, “It’s like they reached into my soul and put it onto canvas.”
Frank hadn’t forgotten his best friend Tina by the way. At weekends he would regularly invite her into his social circle. She had been more than reluctant at first.
“I can’t go out,” she’d explain. “I haven’t got the right outfit.”
When he got too fed up with that excuse he actually went out and bought an outfit for her, and produced it the next time she used it.
She merely smiled awkwardly and had to confess, “I’m not ready yet, Frank.”
“You’ll never be ready until you do it. Please please pleeeaase come out with us.”
“Why’s this so important to you?”
He shrugged.
“I want you to be happy,” was his simple response.
“I’m just not sure it’s a good idea.”
“I’m not asking you to date any of them. Just come out for a drink. It’ll do you good to let your hair down a bit. You’re stuck in an office of accountants all day.”
“Hey, they’re not zombies. They are still human.”
“Yeah, but it’s not exactly riveting work, is it? Come, have fun.”
“Hmm…so, who would be there?”
“Well, Fiona and her boyfriend. She’s great, and I just know you’ll get on with her. I’ll keep the numbers down, I promise. Just one little drink…?”
He pouted as he pleaded.
Tina rolled her eyes.
“Fine, just one drink. And you’ll be there right next to me, and if I panic you will take me straight home?”
“Of course. Thanks Tina. You won’t regret it.”
And she didn’t regret it. They went to one of the quieter pubs where Frank’s group of friends could talk.
He had warned them all that his friend was shy, but they welcomed her with open arms.
Fiona was indeed the first to say hello. She fought the urge to get up and hug her (for fear of spooking her), but she looked up from her seat and smiled as Tina pigeon stepped towards the table.
“You must be Tina. I saved you a seat,” Fiona said, patting a stool next to her.
Tina shuffled over and sat down, feeling glad she wasn’t standing there, sticking out like a sore thumb.
“Frank said you like drawing Fantasy Art..?” Fiona half queried.
Looking down at her lap, and smiling shyly Tina admitted, “Yeah, but I don’t think it’s very good.”
“Nonsense. If Frank likes it I’m sure it’s brilliant. He’s got a discerning eye for these things.”
Starting to relax a little, Tina happily started talking more about her friend than herself. The two girls had found common ground and were happy as lambs.
By the time drink three turned up Jake sidled up to them.
“Is this a private party, or can anyone join in?”
This was said in a most charmingly cheeky way.
“Tina this is Jake, Jake this is Tina.” Fiona announced.
Introductions having been made the conversation about Frank continued.
Frank meanwhile was just out of earshot, keeping a friendly distance to allow Tina her space to g
et acquainted, whilst being close enough to step in should she start to show signs of distress.
He needn’t have worried. He was so proud of her. She was getting a great reaction with his friends.
Tina gradually started gaining her confidence. She went out with Frank’s circle a few times and found she was braver than she’d given herself credit for.
She still felt intimidated by busy places, but was fine with these pub trips, where she could hide away in a corner with her new friends helping to keep guard.
Chapter 9 – Attraction
It wasn’t long before one of his friends started catching Frank’s eye more.
The odd glances would last a little bit longer. The air would sizzle between them, before dying down as they were tugged back into conversation by the others.
There was a moment when they were out in the pub; when Jake was putting Frank’s pint glass down and their hands brushed, and Frank thought his world was exploding.
Just that one simple touch ignited so many wondrous feelings. He daren’t look at his friend. In fact, he looked in the opposite direction.
He fidgeted in his seat, hoping his sudden erection wasn’t showing. He checked to make sure his lap was hidden under the table.
He blushed, feeling as if the whole world were watching him. He heard laughter; one of his friends had obviously said something funny which he was oblivious to.
He plastered on a grin, but out of the corner of his eyes he saw Jake’s smiling face cast a glance in his direction.
That tension was back in a heartbeat. Frank excused himself and went to the toilets.
He splashed cold water on his face, but that did nothing but make him wet. He took a deep breath; he was panicking.
The world felt like it was caving in on him whilst simultaneously spinning out of control.
He passed by his table of friends, muttering something about, “Sorry guys. I’m not feeling well. It must’ve been that dodgy canteen food. I’m just going to call it a night.”
“Already? But we only just got here,” one of the group griped.
“Yeah. Sorry. I thought I’d be OK once I was out, but I’m not. There’s no point torturing myself. You guys have fun.”