Mister Plum
Page 1
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.
Mr. Plum
COLOR BOX
An imprint of Torquere Press Publishers
PO Box 2545
Round Rock, TX 78680
Copyright 2011 by Sue Brown
Cover illustration by Alessia Brio
Published with permission
ISBN: 978-1-61040-212-5
www.torquerepress.com
All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. For information address Torquere Press. Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680.
First Torquere Press Printing: April 2011
Printed in the USA
Mr. Plum
By Sue Brown
To the guys on platform 4 who save the lives of weary commuters with caffeine and a smile. Thank you so much.
Whenever Tom told the tale of how they got together, he started with the story of the laundrette and the boxers. Dave used to smile and pull him into a hug, but Dave never told Tom he was wrong. Well, there are some things you sacrifice for the sake of a quiet life.
It actually started with a takeaway coffee cup two months previously. If Dave was going to be totally accurate, he’d point out it was because of the cardboard sleeve of the cup, the one they used to stop your fingers burning, but then Tom would say his OCD was showing and tell him to shut up.
***
It was the color of the sleeve that Dave noticed, a deep plum that matched the stripe on the tie Tom was wearing. Dave always noticed things like that. He had a keen eye for detail. Dave was green with envy; he had never been given that sleeve. Plum was by far and away his favourite color, and yet the world and the coffee shop on the station had never seen fit to give him a plum sleeve on Dave’s morning drink.
He didn’t get it this time either. His was red. It was a deep red and it wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t plum and it made Dave grit his teeth in frustration. He could hardly demand that Kai, the barista with a huge smile who made him industrial strength coffee every morning at no extra charge, hunt through cardboard sleeves until he found a plum one. Yeah, he could just see how well that would go down with the queue of bleary-eyed commuters behind him. So he just smiled thinly and, clutching his coffee, followed Mr. Plum, for want of a better name, out of the tiny coffee shop on platform four, to await the 8:50 to London Waterloo.
The lucky man wandered farther up the platform than Dave normally stood, his nose buried deep in his Kindle. He didn’t seem to notice the covetous glances Dave had been casting at his coffee cup. The train arrived and they both got on, Mr. Plum in another carriage. Dave was lucky enough to find a seat, and he sat, sipping at his coffee, with the crimson sleeve around his cup. If the coffee tasted a little bitter to him, maybe that was just an added dash of sour grapes -- plum colored, of course.
***
Two days later, Dave swore miserably under his breath as he staggered up the stairs to the platform. Having been off work the previous day, enduring the torture of root canal work at the dentist, Dave was not in the best of moods. He was grumpy and hurting like hell, despite painkillers that the dentist had sworn would fell an ox. It had taken him a long time to get moving that morning, his whole face and jaw aching with the pain. It was 8:48 and he was too late to get a coffee. With the best will in the world, Kai couldn’t move the line that quickly.
Miserably, Dave moved to his usual spot on the platform, waiting for the train to arrive. Lost his own world, Dave wasn’t prepared for the cup of coffee that was thrust under his nose. He looked up to see Mr. Plum smiling at him.
“Kai thought you might be in be in need of this,” he said, holding out the cup. When Dave didn’t take the cup immediately, his smile started to wobble. Dave noticed that Mr. Plum had a really nice smile, in fact he had a really gorgeous face. Warm, dark brown eyes and olive skin, framed by a crisp, dark-red cotton shirt. The tie had a red motif the same color as his shirt. This guy knew how to coordinate.
Mr. Plum started to withdraw the cup as the train pulled into the station. “Maybe I got the wrong person,” he said uncertainly.
“No!” Seeing his caffeine disappearing, Dave made a grab for the cardboard cup, “I’m sorry, I’m not feeling so good this morning.” Their fingers tangled briefly as he took the cup.
Having handed the coffee over to him, Mr. Plum’s smile returned. “Kai said that. Hope you feel better tomorrow.” He moved down the platform to his usual spot with a brief goodbye.
Dave stared after him for so long he almost forgot why he was standing on the platform and had to make a hasty scramble to get in before the doors closed. As he sat down, clutching his coffee in one hand and the free newspaper in the other, Dave mentally made a note to thank Kai and settle up with him on Monday. It wasn’t the first time Kai had given out a free coffee if Dave felt his customer was in need, but Dave didn’t like to take advantage of the generous barista.
He took a sip of the strong black coffee and for the first time, caught sight of the cardboard sleeve. The plum-colored cardboard sleeve. For the first time since he’d got up, there was a smile curving Dave’s mouth, as he traced his fingers over the cup.
***
It was the weekend after that with no chance of settling up with Kai, but Monday morning, he arrived at the station bright and early to give Kai his money and maybe see Mr. Plum as well.
Kai grinned at him as he offered his money. “Good morning, sir, your usual?”
“Yes please, Kai, and I owe you for last Friday as well.”
As he poured out the coffee, Kai said, “No, you don’t. Your friend paid for it.” As usual he was completing several orders at once.
Confused, Dave stammered, “My... friend?”
If possible Kai’s smile grew even broader as he handed over the takeaway cup -- a blue sleeve this time -- to Dave and a mocha to the man behind. “Yes,” he said, “The handsome one with the nice eyes.”
Dave went crimson. “I, oh, yes,” he stammered again, then he said, “He’s not my friend.”
Pushing another cup toward him, Kai grinned. “Then maybe he’d like to be. He’s just walking up now. Have a nice day. You can pay me tomorrow. Yes ma’am, what would you like?” Kai asked a woman standing behind Dave.
The woman jostled around Dave as he stared vaguely at the two cups. “Are you finished?” she asked him brusquely.
“Er, yes,” he said stupidly and moved out of her way, aware of Kai’s smirk following him down the shop.
The cause of all his confusion had reached the door of the coffee shop. As Tom pushed open the door, Dave thrust the coffee at him.
“Here, this is for you.”
The delighted look on Mr. Plum’s face almost made the whole embarrassment worthwhile. Almost.
“Thank you,” he said, shifting his paper under one arm so he could cup both his hands around the hot coffee. It was chilly and Dave mirrored Mr. Plum’s actions with his own cup. “Are you feeling better today?”
“Much, thanks.” It was true. The pounding pain in Dave’s jaw had decreased to a manageable level, although it still hurt to chew anything.
The woman who had been at the counter coughed loudly. “Have you finished here as well?”
Dave looked up and blushed again as he realized they were blocking the exit. “I’m sorry,” he said
, moving to one side.
“No problem,” she responded, her tone distinctly more amused than before. To add to Dave’s mortification she winked as she passed him.
Dave wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. Wildly, he contemplated never being able to use this station again. Maybe he’d have to get the bus to work.
The raised eyebrow on Mr. Plum’s face didn’t help. “Is there something I’m missing here?”
Thank God the train arrived just as Dave shook his head. “Well, see you tomorrow,” he said, and moved away before he could embarrass himself further. Did that sound like he was asking, or was it just a friendly farewell?
“Wait.”
He turned to see Mr. Plum (he was really going to have to stop calling the man that) jogging up to him. The train doors opened and to Dave’s surprise the man got on with him, rather than moving down to his usual carriage, sitting down next to Dave as the train pulled away. They were lucky enough to get two seats together, a minor miracle on the commuter train. The man and woman opposite were engrossed in their phones and didn’t looked up as they sat down.
“So... um, my name is Tom,” the man said as they sat down together. “I thought I’d introduce myself as we’re a bit like old friends now.”
Well, that was certainly better than calling the hot guy ‘Mr. Plum.’
“Dave,” he responded, “I’d shake hands but...” and he waggled his hot drink very carefully.
“Nice to meet you, Dave.” Tom was smiling again, “Thanks for the coffee. It’s bloody cold today.”
“Kai gave it to me,” admitted Dave, then flushed a little.
“He’s always doing that,” agreed Tom, apparently unperturbed, taking a swallow of his coffee. He moaned quietly.
Dave stared at him, then looked away quickly. Did Tom have any idea of the effect he was having on Dave? God, Dave hoped not. Oblivious to Dave’s plight Tom loosened his scarf to reveal a dark blue shirt with a matching tie. Dave had a thing about throats. He was a guy, he always checked out the package, but if Dave was honest with himself, it was the throat and maybe a hint of chest hair that did it every time. Tom’s throat looked just ready for him to bite.
“You have to dress very formally at your office,” Dave blurted out to break the silence and then felt like a total tool.
His companion didn’t seem to mind though, as he pulled a face. “I’m lucky they don’t still expect a bowler hat and umbrella. Honestly, I swear they think dress-down Friday is undoing your top button.”
Dave wanted to say that Tom was welcome to undo his top button and undo anything else he’d like to, but that was possibly a little forward on a packed commuter train.
“My office isn’t bothered about dress code,” Dave said, indicating his jeans, “We don’t have any clients coming in, so we can wear what we like.”
“You’re so lucky.” Tom looked up as more people squeezed on the train. “It’s busy this morning,” he observed. “I think I’m going to have to fight to get out of here.”
“Where do you get off?” asked Dave. His coffee was almost finished and he was wishing he’d gotten the larger size. There wasn’t enough caffeine in the world that could help him deal with a gorgeous man sitting next to him.
“Clapham Junction. I usually stand a bit further back because there’s less of a crush and when I get off I’m right by the exit for the stairs. I have to run for my next train, otherwise there’s twenty minute wait.”
Feeling guilty even though Tom had been the one to get on with him, Dave immediately said, “I’m sorry if you miss your train today.”
Tom turned to smile at him, large eyes trained on Dave. “It doesn’t matter, just for one day.”
Dave’s insides turned to mush. He couldn’t help smiling back, aware of the warmth of Tom pressed along his side. If anything Tom’s smile grew brighter and Dave was sure Tom was pressing even closer. There was no doubt in Dave’s mind that Tom was flirting with him, just a little. It wouldn’t do any harm to flirt back.
“Have you finished with that, mate?”
Confused, Dave looked up to see the man opposite them pointing at Tom’s newspaper which he’d tucked down the side of the seat.
“Uh, sure.” Tom handed it over without protest, even though Dave knew he hadn’t read it. Catching Dave’s stare, Tom shrugged. “I can get another one and I’d rather talk to you.”
No matter how hard he tried, Dave knew he wasn’t hiding his pleasure at Tom’s bald statement. Dave had never managed to be cool in his life.
“You have to get off very soon,” Dave pointed out.
Looking up to see that his was the next stop, Tom leaned into Dave’s space, his tone lowered. “Ah well, there’s always tomorrow.”
Speechless, Dave nodded. He’d just made a date. Okay, a packed commuter train wasn’t exactly his idea of an ideal first date but he wasn’t arguing.
“Tomorrow it is,” agreed Tom as he got to his feet. “First one there gets the coffees.” His eyes narrowed. “Team?”
“Wasps,” Dave said.
Dave’s eyes widened almost comically as Tom said, “Not football then.” At Dave’s nod, Tom added “I should have realized with a build like yours you’d be a rugby man.”
“You?” Dave asked.
“Spurs. I was praying you weren’t Chelsea or Arsenal ‘cause then I wouldn’t be able to talk to you.”
“Get out of here.” Dave grinned at him and pointed to the crush of people between Tom and the exit. “You’ll miss your stop.”
“See you tomorrow, Dave. Thanks for the coffee.” Tom squeezed Dave’s shoulder briefly and started pushing his way down the narrow gap between the seats.
Dave couldn’t watch his progress without turning around, but nothing could erase the grin from Dave’s face. For the first time in years he couldn’t wait for tomorrow morning.
***
Oversleeping was not the way to start a new relationship. It was 8:47 and Dave was haring toward the station. There just had to be a bunch of school kids in the way as he ran down the narrow pavement to the entrance. Why the hell weren’t they in school where they belonged? He dodged around the kids in their blue check skirts and headed toward the ticket barrier, thanking God that today they were open and he could just run through them.
As he pounded up the steps Dave could hear the received pronunciation of the announcer apologising that the train was four minutes late. He could have kissed the woman with the strangulated vowels. Gasping for breath, he reached the top of the stairs and staggered toward the coffee shop, hoping and praying Tom was still there and not pissed off with him.
He just wasn’t that lucky though. There was no sign of Tom, either at the coffee shop or further up the platform. At that point the train arrived and Dave stumbled, miserable and sweaty, onto the train, lacking in caffeine and man. It was just typical of Dave’s luck that the only guy he’d met in months disappeared just as he thought his luck was in.
***
Hump day. Enough said. Tom was standing in the queue in the coffee shop, eyes glued to the floor. He didn’t even look up to place his order. As Dave reached the queue, Kai exchanged a concerned glance with him over Tom’s shoulder. Yes, it had to be said. Tom was not a happy camper this Wednesday morning.
“Good morning.” Dave said softly, touching Tom on his shoulder. He frowned as Tom flinched away at his touch.
“Morning,” Tom muttered, handing over the money to Kai. Dave pushed Tom’s hand away and paid for his own gutrot plus Tom’s mocha from Monday and today.
“Morning, sir,” Kai greeted Dave as cheerfully as ever. “Your usual?”
“Please, Kai.”
Tom ignored them both and left the coffee shop. Conscious that he was staring after Tom, Dave turned back to Kai.
“He doesn’t look very happy,” Kai said quietly.
He walked up to Tom, who was waiting on the platform in his usual place, his eyes rooted to the ground. “Sorry about yesterday. I overslept. But I didn’t see you, anyway.” There was a pause and then when Tom didn’t respond, he said, “I... um, well, see you around.” Dave started to walk away.
Fortunately, it seemed to provoke a response and Tom laid a hand on Dave’s arm. “No, wait. I’m sorry. It’s... been a bad week for me, and I was taking it out on you. I’m sorry.” For the first time he looked up and Dave could see the black smudges under his eyes.
The anger that had started to eat at Dave changed to concern. As the train doors opened, he guided Tom onto the train, a warm hand at Tom’s back. “What’s happened?” he asked, as they sat down. This time they weren’t sitting opposite anyone else.
As Tom took a sip of his coffee, Dave noticed his hands were shaking. “I was mugged on the way home from the station Monday night.”
“Oh God, I’m so sorry, Tom.” Dave was appalled.
“Me, too. It’s only a few cuts and bruises but he gave me a kick to the ribs. Even breathing in is a bit painful. I’m okay though.”
“Why are you here? Why aren’t you at home in bed?” Dave laid a hand on Tom’s thigh, not caring if anyone else saw. It was oddly liberating not to care.
Tom took a sip of his coffee. He didn’t seem bothered by Dave’s hand on him this time, so Dave left it there. “I’m fine. I’m just pissed off, that’s all.”
“What did the police say?”
“I haven’t reported it. I didn’t see much point.”
“Why on earth not? You were assaulted and robbed, for Christ’s sake.” Dave was astounded.
“I’m six foot two and built like a brick shithouse. Do you think the police are going to be bothered about a minor mugging?” Tom asked, sounding exhausted. Leaning against the scratched glass of the window, he closed his eyes.
Dave didn’t push Tom any further and left him to rest as they went through the stations, his hand still lying on Tom’s leg. By the time they reached Clapham Junction, Tom was almost asleep. Almost regretfully Dave shook him awake.