“Baby, I’m close. Keep going,” Tom moaned. His mouth drew so close to Edward’s head that his warm breath caused the latter’s cheek to tingle. ‘Baby’ was a term of endearment that hadn’t slipped their lips until now.
Edward could not reply; his mouth was full. He wriggled his own school trousers down to his ankles to multi-task better.
It was their first time daring to get this intimate. And it was wonderful. It was primal and messy and gratifying. All the best things that can’t be described on paper. They are just said and done in the heat of the moment. Tom was able to leave his cares to one side, albeit temporarily. There was an added dimension that prolonged their enjoyment. For unlike most people their age, they were bound not by mere raging hormones but by strong binding love.
They climaxed as one, seizing up momentarily and relaxing with a drawn-out groan. Edward dismounted Tom’s chest and collapsed to the ground. There they lay panting, side-by-side with beaming smiles. They caught their breath and Edward sat up again.
“What did you think?” he asked.
Tom’s chest was still heaving as the exhilaration ebbed. He giggled and tried to make out Edward’s figure in the blackness. He rubbed his face and yawned. “That was hot,” he stated.
Once the satisfaction had worn off, Edward wiped himself down and switched on his phone’s backlight. He redressed and leaned over to plant a tender kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead.
“Want to come over to mine for dinner? It’ll be cold by now but if it keeps you away from your mum and dad…” Edward offered.
“Tempting, but I’ll head home and hopefully my mum will be laid out on the sofa, or the floor. With a bottle of wine next to her,” Tom said. “Thanks, by the way. I enjoyed that.”
Edward placed the ribbon from his birthday present on Tom’s trouser fly. Then he stood up and picked his bike off the grass.
“You don’t have to thank me,” he giggled, stumbling on the uneven ground as he tried to right himself and avoid slipping towards the lake. “Thanks for the diary, and the pen. Get me a new bike next time and maybe we’ll go all the way,” he added in jest.
“What do you call that if it wasn’t going all the way?” Tom replied, feigning confusion. The phone cast its light on Edward’s upper body. A wry smile took hold of his face.
“Catch you later, yeah?” Edward said.
“Sure, see ya – babe,” Toshy replied.
Edward wheeled his push-bike to the footpath. He steadied one hand on his handlebar as he held his phone aloft to guide the way forward. Throwing a cursory glance back in Tom’s direction, he pedalled away, behind the hedgerows and out of sight.
Tom stayed on the embankment, perfectly still. Gradually, his steely resolve took flight. His emotional baggage gained the upper hand once more, and he wept for a long while thereafter. Shaking his head, he pounded his fist into the ground, oblivious to the fox cubs still pacing in close proximity. Maybe they felt sorry for him.
XIV
Dr Wells was nonplussed when she opened her office door, to be greeted by a tall, toned teenager standing on the landing, grinning.
“Edward, this is a surprise. What brings you here?”
“I’m happy,” Edward replied. “I wanted to book another appointment with you.”
“That’s good news, I’m very pleased to hear that. Why don’t you ask Gillian at the desk downstairs to fit you in?” Dr Wells said.
Edward shrugged. “She’s on her lunch break or something. I wanted to see you in person,” he insisted.
“I was about to go for my break as well,” she said. “Never mind, come in and we can have a quick chat.”
The doctor invited Edward into her familiar consulting room. Nothing of any significance had changed. Still it was furnished with antiquated fixtures and fittings. Like a snapshot of a quaint, early twentieth century residence, the contents within these four walls seemed to capture the character of a bygone era.
Edward took a pew on the chaise longue and waited patiently for Dr Wells to scour her desk for his notes. Organised at last, she sat on a suede armchair opposite him.
He read his psychiatrist’s face while she shuffled papers with her familiar, methodical precision. The inescapable power of time would have taken its toll on most people. Dr Wells, however, remained as calm and professional as she had ever been. She sat upright, shoulders level and one knee supported on top of the other. She seemed in good shape, as if she could run after Edward again and again. Maybe the only difference was her hair, which now languished freely behind her neck instead of being tied into a fixed bun.
“You want to see me now – months after our last meeting – because you are in a good mood?” Despite this sounding mildly condescending, she bore no malice but genuine interest in Edward’s motives for seeing her.
“My fears, everything I came to you to talk about before – it’s all disappeared. I want this feeling to stick with me, I don’t want to go back to worrying, panicking like I’ve done in the past,” Edward explained.
“OK, can I ask why you think that might be the case?” Dr Wells pressed him.
“Can’t be sure, it just seems like everything is going right for me. I’m pushing all the bad stuff out of my head,” he said.
His therapist smiled and nodded. In doing so, her face radiated closer to its former glow. She flicked her wrist to observe the time on her watch in as subtle a manner as she could.
“So, Edward. Have you taken the tablets I prescribed?”
“I haven’t needed to.”
“That’s fine.” She considered his face, agreeable insofar as it was warm and carefree. “Are you and Tom still getting along well?”
“He’s feeling down, but I’ve told him I’ll be there for him. ‘Cause I know what he’s going through, with the stress and sadness.”
“Is that so?” Dr Wells tried to sound as if she were surprised, or as though she cared. Edward detected a trace of insincerity in her voice.
“His own family’s going to hell. You really wanna go for lunch, don’t you?”
Dr Wells shook her head and swatted her hand dismissively. “You’re a good friend to him Edward. You’ve told me in our earlier chats that you like writing in your journal?” she probed.
“I do. Did I tell you Toshy had bought me a new one for my birthday last month?”
The psychiatrist scanned over her notes. She couldn’t answer in time, as Edward went on.
“With my name engraved on the side,” Edward blurted out with a hint of pride.
“Why write? What does it mean to you? That’s something I’ve never been able to put my finger on in your case.”
Edward considered this. Meanwhile, Dr Wells flicked through her files and snuck a peek at her watch again.
“It’s just that when I die, which I get now is unavoidable for everyone, I want some kind of legacy. Like a time capsule. I want to do as much as I can in my life and put bits in a box for people to find, way in the future. Maybe do lots of little good things in my life that’ll end up having an impact on loads of people.” Edward’s train of thought was disjointed and garbled. Nonetheless, Dr Wells took the time to listen and jot some notes.
“This goes back to your search for a sense of purpose that you’ve mentioned before. Giving meaning to a life you perceive is ‘boring’.”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“You’ve been reluctant to share any of your diary entries in our meetings. That’s been the case ever since we first met, going back three years or so.”
“I don’t want to be judged. Whatever I write, it’s for my eyes only. When I die, people can maybe read it all and see the kind of person that I really am – was.”
“What am I going to find if I have a read through? A notebook full of scribbled penises?”
“My scale drawings wouldn’t fit.”
“Must be a small diary then.”
Edward blushed. “Touché.”
Dr Wells laughed. “Do you think, pe
rhaps the reason you’re shy and reluctant to open up to others, is because you fear being judged if you say something they don’t like? Something ‘wrong’?” Dr Wells asked, adding bunny ears in the air to emphasise her point.
“Well…” he trailed off. “I really don’t think I’m perfect. But I still want everyone to like me and sometimes I go out of my way to be submissive and play up to people’s better expectations of me. If that means avoiding people’s negative opinion of me, then great I suppose.”
“It’s interesting you suggest a dependency, almost a kind of need, for validation from other people. That’s good and healthy, up to a point. You have to live your own life though and accept reality. The reality that humans are fundamentally different to one another and some people will always be incompatible.”
“Maybe, it’s like I’m burying my head in the sand. Hiding from my problems.” Edward frowned as he said this.
Dr Wells got to her feet and picked up a sandwich box from her desk. She turned to glance at Edward and faltered as she held her lunch.
“We still have a way to go with your therapy, Edward. Bear with me a minute.” She returned her lunch box to the desk and stretched across to lift a telephone off its receiver.
Edward chewed his lip. He swivelled his head to take in all the features of the room as his consultant rescheduled a meeting, or something.
When she put the phone down, she sat down opposite Edward again.
“I have a clinic at the district general hospital two mornings a week. If you can take the time off school, shall we meet there?” She checked her phone. “I have an opening Friday at 09:30?”
Edward couldn’t help asking why she wanted him to trek across town to a hospital appointment.
“If you bring along that diary of yours, you could read extracts from it. Or show me your scrapbook. It’ll be interesting.”
Edward agreed and got up to leave, prompting Dr Wells to add a pre-emptive post-script to this ad-hoc visit. “Remember Edward, I will need to let your guardians know, since they’ll be covering the appointment fees and I have to send them an invoice.”
“That’s fine, thanks for letting me know,” said Edward without looking back as he walked out of the room. “See you on Friday.”
◆◆◆
“For the last time Ed, it’s just a freckle.”
“And I keep telling you, I swear it’s changed shape since last week.”
In the background, an obscure movie played out on the TV set on Tom’s bedroom wall. The two boys – for that’s all they were still – nestled in bed, naked from the waist up. On the floor below them, their evening meals lay cold and unloved.
“And I keep telling you to get it checked out. By someone who is not me.”
“They’d just fob me off. Or, what if they get it wrong?”
“Then keep asking them. Jesus, quit pestering me over your stupid freckle.”
In a fit of pique, Edward jerked his leg against Tom’s, who retaliated with a robust dig into Edward’s side.
“I thought you’d got over your fear of dying by now anyway,” Tom said, shifting his body to the far side of the bed.
Edward rolled his eyebrows, accentuating his disbelief by tensing his fingers as if clutching at an imaginary stress ball.
“Why am I the only one who’s terrified of it?”
“Everyone is! Come on man, it’s just a phase and you’re not alone—”
“No, no! Don’t give me that bullshit! This is so much more than just—”
“So why don’t you take it up with your therapist? You hardly ever see them anyway.” Anticipating a strong riposte from Edward, he quickly changed the subject. “Now kiss me, ya weirdo.” A smile, asymmetric and toothless, pervaded Tom’s face.
Edward remained unimpressed and shook his head. “I am going to see her. This Friday morning.”
At this, Tom’s face changed. His eyes dropped and his cheeky smirk evaporated. “You are?”
“Yeah, why – what’s wrong, baby?” Edward drew in close for a kiss, lightly stroking his partner’s ankle with his toes.
Tom’s hesitancy disappeared as fast as it had appeared. Instead of staring blankly into space, he returned the favour. “Nothing. I just…thought you might be starting to feel a bit down…when you said that.” His detached expression suggested he was trying to think on the hoof.
The inner cynic railing in Edward’s mind would have questioned this, but a banging noise from downstairs startled them.
“I thought you said your mum had gone out all evening?” Edward whispered angrily.
His boyfriend – for that, too, was what they were after all – trod delicately to the bedroom door, opened it a fraction and peered out.
“Just a draught slamming the bathroom door shut,” he said at length.
Edward caught his breath and laughed. He stripped off his jogging bottoms under the bedsheet and summoned Tom over. With a flourish, he switched off the TV and leapt onto the bed, pouncing into Edward’s comforting embrace. Their bare torsos pressed hard and their lips locked.
“Let me be the big spoon, it’s too hot under the sheets.”
“Dunno why my mum wanted to turn the heating up so much before she left.”
“Someone’s got deep mummy issues,” Edward whispered, planting a kiss on the nape of Tom’s neck and nipping at his earlobes.
“Mmm, keep going, I want more.”
Edward pulled up to gasp for air. Tom purred as he pecked the scruff of his neck.
“Tell me how much you want me.”
Edward reached across Tom’s head and nuzzled his nose against his ear. “As long as I still have breath in my body, I’ll always love you.” He blew a light stream of warm air over Tom’s ear, causing him to shiver. He threw back his head, arching his back and grasping at the mattress.
“Cringey as fuck, but you know what to say to get me going.”
Edward continued to caress his partner’s thigh, working his hand up to his groin. By this point, Tom had whipped his tracksuit bottoms off and began struggling out of his underwear. Edward beat him to it and presented himself in his full-frontal glory, for Tom to clutch and claw at any exposed body part.
Once their conquest had reached its glorious conclusion, they lay in bed, warm and greasy. This was true love, of that much they knew for sure. The small talk that preceded and followed it was just as enjoyable, for it gave them the chance to consolidate their feelings for one another.
“Guess you were right about not being caught by your mum,” Edward said, tucked into his lover’s side.
Tom laughed, one arm under his head and the other stroking Edward’s back. “Given half a chance, you could’ve brought the roof down with that.”
“No regrets,” insisted Edward, who nudged his nose and chin deeper against Tom’s body.
Sighing, Tom’s smile became substituted with a look of deep contemplation.
“I wish we could swap parents, Ed.” Seeing Edward’s eyes narrow, he added quickly, “Or at least wish that we could both have your parents.”
Edward swept aside a conspicuous smear of dubious fluid from his arm. “Trust me, I’ve only got around to putting up with them lately,” he declared.
“Nonsense, you all get along super well,” Tom argued.
Edward refused to believe this and shook his head. “Familiarity breeds contempt.”
Tom reached down to his abandoned dinner plate and picked up a soggy carrot stick. Inserting one end between his lips, he turned to face Edward, who chortled and wrapped his lips around the other end. They nibbled away, until their mouths touched and the fun and games resumed.
“Please don’t leave me,” Edward said at one stage, wording this such that one could not be certain if it was a bona fide question or a plain statement of fact. All his boyfriend needed to do was match his gaze; this being all the validation needed.
One pair of glassy eyes, of blue hue veiling traumas new, matching the glossy eyes of hazel hue hiding t
raumas old. Their breathing, slow and synchronous, was peaceful with no words spoken for some time.
“Changing the subject, I’m not joking when I say—”
“Oh God, please don’t. It’s just a fucking freckle!”
XV
Friday dawned with a depressing pitter-patter of rain striking the window in Edward’s room. He packed his diary and scrapbook into his bag and made his way to the kitchen. School work and textbooks had been squeezed at the bottom of one compartment, and his tablet occupied space in another pouch.
His father had left for work and Helen was getting ready for a shift at her new part-time job, in a town centre bookshop.
“Morning, Edward. I baked some bread last night so you can help yourself if you want to make breakfast,” she called from the utility room.
“I’ll make a sandwich to take with me,” Edward said as he retrieved a serrated knife from the kitchen drawer.
Helen appeared in the doorway. “That’s fine hun. You all set for your appointment?” Edward glared at her, to which she commented, “No need to be like that. I won’t interfere, I was only asking if you were ready.”
Edward decided it would be better to come up a non-committal answer. That way, she’d be less likely to pry into affairs that were patently none of her business.
“I think so. I don’t really need to prepare anything for it, because it’s more like a follow-up chat with her than anything serious.”
“Oh good, so they are helping after all. You haven’t been for a long time.”
Great, just what Edward needed. A conversation. He grunted in an effort to put the awkward subject to rest.
A tinny ringtone blasted from his phone, which sat on the counter.
“Is that yours, darling?”
“Leave it! Stop interfering.” He swiped the device – still ringing – and shoved it into his pocket without glancing at the screen. He took one last dash to swig some milk straight out of the carton in the fridge.
Helen seemed to take the hint, and folded clothes quietly for a minute. “Oh, and you know Tom is more than welcome to stay the night. He seems very down in the dumps of late, so I hope he’s alright. It’s not like him to be so miserable. You know him better than anyone though, and if anyone can cheer him up, I know you’ll be able to, Ed.”
Screams of Thy Neighbour Page 11