‘You’re right,’ he said, ignoring Casper’s glare and looking John directly in the eye. ‘I didn’t want to say anything because Cass doesn’t know, but when I was unpacking and saw we’d got the wrong bag, I found this stuff at the bottom. Pills and that. I put them back and told Cass there was nothing but old clothes. He didn’t know about the drugs. I thought we’d just return it…’
‘Stop it.’ Casper’s anger was obvious and brought an embarrassed hush to the table. ‘Stop trying to protect me.’ He’d turned to John before Liam could object. ‘I knew,’ he said. ‘And when you asked me about the bag, I should have told you, but we were going to bring it back the next day and say nothing about it.’
‘Yeah, yeah…’ John was up and on his way to the radio.
‘You want me to do it?’ Gary asked, and for a moment, Liam thought John was calling the police.
‘We didn’t do anything wrong,’ Liam protested, panicking and glaring at Casper who appeared equally as worried.
‘It’s okay, mate,’ Gary said. ‘It’s not about you.’
‘Betty, you there?’ John stood over the radio with his brow furrowed as he released the talk button, waited for a response and then called again. ‘Betty, come in, over.’
‘I’m here. What’s up?’
‘Did you find Mark Ward?’
‘Not yet, love. No-one’s seen hide nor hair. Why?’
John turned away, lowering his voice as he relayed what he had just learnt.
‘Hey, guys…’ Gary whispered and touched Liam’s hand, making him jump. ‘If John’s right, it explains a lot. You’re not in trouble, but Mark may be, and we might need to go out again.’
‘In this?’ Liam couldn’t believe it. ‘For the man who attacked Cass?’
‘It’s what we do,’ Gary said, calmly forking his dinner. ‘Doesn’t matter who or why, if someone’s in trouble…’
‘You’re okay.’ John was back at the table. ‘Betty’s on to it, Benny’s going to recover, but you may need to speak with the police tomorrow.’ Seeing the boys’ concern, he reassured them they weren’t in trouble. As for Mark, if a rescue was needed, other members of the team were on call. ‘It might sound cold-hearted,’ he said. ‘But it’s not our problem. We don’t work alone. Now then, who’s for seconds?’
The evening crawled along without much more being said, but after a while, Liam no longer felt they were intruding. John made him feel at home, and the activity around him was so ordinary and domestic, it was like spending an evening in his own house. Not with his dad, who would have taken work home with him and would be sitting at his desk punching numbers, but with friends who engaged him in conversation and were easy to be with. Liam helped John with the dishes while Casper took a bath, and when he reappeared wearing more of John’s clothes, Gary was emptying the washing machine into the dryer, and John was opening another bottle of wine. It was as if there was no storm raging outside and no-one had just been rescued from a mountain. The only imperfection was that Liam and Casper passed only occasional glances and sat in stubborn silence until Gary put on music on an old CD player.
‘Jacques Lussier,’ Liam said, recognising the music immediately.
‘Are you okay with jazz?’ Gary asked, and when Liam said he was, drew a beanbag closer to the fire and sat facing them. ‘John got me into it. He listens to it when he’s meditating.’
‘Meditating?’ John scoffed as he lowered himself to sit between Gary’s legs so his husband could massage his shoulders.
‘Or whatever it is you do when you go to the bedroom on your own.’
John grinned at the boys on the sofa. ‘I just go to get some peace and quiet,’ he said, and Gary slapped his head playfully.
‘Take no notice,’ Gary said. ‘He loves me really.’
‘Except when he doesn’t clean the sink after shaving.’ John grabbed one of Gary’s hands and kissed it.
‘He gets his own back by leaving the towels on the floor,’ Gary countered. ‘And don’t get me started on the snoring.’
‘Yeah, alright,’ John laughed. ‘And we won’t mention your incessant craving for sex.’
‘Perfectly natural,’ Gary said, winking at Liam. ‘When you’re young.’
‘Fuck off!’ John feigned outrage until Gary hugged him from behind.
It was light-hearted banter in a situation Liam had never encountered, and where he expected to feel embarrassed, he found himself relaxing in the men’s company as the evening wore on. Casper, on the other hand, was lost in a fog of apprehension.
‘Sorry,’ John said, when he noticed. ‘It’s just how we are.’
Casper put on a smile that Liam could tell was false, waved it away, and asked John to tell him what it was like to go to Everest.
As the conversation bubbled in the background, Liam’s anger towards Casper turned to sympathy. Not only did Casper have to cope with Liam coming out, but he was also stuck overnight with an overt, gay couple. No wonder he was uncomfortable, yet Liam couldn’t think of what he could do or say that would help. In fact, he thought as he watched Casper listen politely to stories of oxygen tanks and altitude sickness, there was probably nothing Liam could ever say or do to heal the rift he’d caused, and he fell into sullen silence himself, dreading the time they would have to go to bed.
That time came at half ten when John announced he was knackered, but everyone else could stay up if they wanted. Casper declined, saying he needed to sleep, and Gary agreed it was best for all. Having shown them where the light switches were and told them to help themselves in the kitchen if they were awake first, he said goodnight to the boys outside the spare bedroom.
It was the first time they had been alone together since the tent, and Liam prepared himself for more silence and a troubled night.
Nineteen
Casper used the bathroom while Liam stripped to his underwear and slipped beneath the duvet. The room wasn’t warm even though the radiator ticked as it worked away, and the air was damp and tainted by a faint smell he couldn’t place until he tracked it down to the rails of ropes and gear that stood against the wall. The rescue sledge was propped against another beside a rack of boots and shoes, and on a board above, someone had pinned a large map. It showed the local area as a mass of contours in varying colours, with the location of the cottage marked by a red sticker. The room was more of an office than a bedroom, but he was grateful for the comfort of a bed. At least, he was until he let in the thought that Casper was going to be sharing it with him at any moment, and questions began to boil and pop in his mind.
Perhaps Casper had decided to camp out in the sitting room? He was taking a long time in the bathroom, maybe he wasn’t coming? If that was the case, it sent a message to Liam that he didn’t want to receive. It would prove that their friendship was over, and it was Liam’s fault for being gay. Trying not to imagine the loneliness he would experience if Casper didn’t come back, he turned onto his back, stared at the ceiling and prayed for the door to open.
But what if he did come back? What were they going to say to each other? Would Casper even want to talk? Had he been embarrassed by John and Gary’s touching and kissing? What could Liam do about it? They were all peripheral questions, he realised, and the one he needed to be asking himself was, should he take Gary’s advice? Was it worth telling Casper how he felt about it him now that Cass had made it obvious he wanted nothing more to do with Liam?
That question beggared another; had Casper actually said that? The answer was no, but then he didn’t need to. He’d hardly acknowledged Liam all evening, and when he had, it had been out of forced politeness because he was in someone else’s house. He’d not rushed to hug and fist bump as they usually did… No, always did. He’d not flashed his wicked grin, and his eyes hadn’t smiled in their Monday morning way after they’d not seen each other
for a day. There had been nothing there, as if their friendship had been washed away by the storm and was now far out to sea, lost and beyond rescue.
Liam thumped the pillow in frustration; he simply didn’t know what to say. Words formed in his mind, but as soon as he imagined saying them, his skin turned cold and the trembling in his stomach intensified.
He was persuading himself that the best thing to do was pretend to be asleep when voices in the hall and the click of the door handle alerted him to Casper’s return. A wave of relief flowed through him because Casper hadn’t decided to sleep in the sitting room, but it only intensified his nervousness to the point where breathing became stilted. Deep breaths through his nose did nothing to quell the tension as Casper crept in.
‘Oh, you’re still awake,’ he said, closing the door.
‘Yeah.’
Casper turned his back and pulled his jumper over his head. ‘Bit cold in here.’
‘Better than being in a tent.’
‘Yeah.’ Sitting on the edge of the bed to remove his socks, Casper paused. ‘Should I keep these on, d’you think?’
‘I would.’ Liam didn’t care what he did as long as he got into bed. Casper might get out again once he realised what he was doing, but at least Liam would have experienced the oft-dreamt pleasure of lying in a bed beside Casper Spectre. His heart was already pounding, but the beats intensified when Cass stood to undo his trousers.
John’s clothes were too slim for him, and he struggled with the legs, hopping as he pulled until he had to support himself at the wall and release them one at a time.
Liam had seen Casper in all states of dress. Bleary-eyed in a dressing gown when he’d slept in on a Saturday, wearing a dinner suit to play a concert, sweaty and muddy from the athletics field, and even practically naked in swimming trunks at the beach when every head including Liam’s turned to the sight, but his undressing now was unnerving because he was doing it for the intimate purpose of sleeping beside Liam.
Casper turned off the light as if extinguishing Liam’s thoughts, and a second later, the mattress dipped, and a spring creaked.
‘Have you got enough room?’ Liam asked the darkness.
‘Yeah. You?’
‘Yeah.’
Somewhere a clock ticked. Liam hadn’t noticed it before. It was as if it had waited to start the moment Casper climbed in, ready to tick away the time they had before Cass fell asleep. Time that would either pass quickly, allowing Liam to avoid saying what he wanted to say or slowly while they talked. Either way, the clock was counting down to something unavoidable.
‘You okay?’ Liam asked.
‘Yeah. You?’
The click-click of the bathroom pull switch told Liam the others had gone to bed, but he spoke as if invisible people were trying to sleep nearby.
‘Worried about you, Cass,’ he said.
‘Why?’
‘Oh, come on, mate.’ Liam turned onto his side. Unable to see Casper, he could only judge his distance by his warmth, and there was nothing but cold air between them. ‘You’ve been sulking since you got here.’
‘Sulking?’
‘Yeah. Not saying anything, told me to shut up, ignored me.’
‘I’ve just been pulled off a mountain.’
‘It’s a fell,’ Liam corrected, unable to help himself.
‘Whatever. I’m not sulking.’
Liam rolled onto his back and took a deep breath. Things he wanted to say were stacking up in his head and forming a tailback thanks to an immovable fear that blocked his throat. The only way to remove it was to take Gary’s advice, say those three words and get it over with.
Instead, Liam took a detour.
‘Are you looking forward to this army thing?’ he asked.
Cass had already said as much, so it was a dumb opener, but it was better than nothing.
‘I was,’ Casper answered. ‘Not so sure now.’
Liam waited for more, but when nothing came, asked why not.
‘Difficult to explain,’ Casper answered, and then, after a slow sigh, added, ‘Sorry,’ as an afterthought.
‘That’s alright. I’m sorry I left you stuck up a mountain.’
‘It’s a fell.’ There was a barely detectable smile in Casper’s voice. ‘A mountain is generally considered a geological feature over one thousand feet, while a fell is a feature in a more barren landscape.’
‘Thanks for that,’ Liam said. It was good to hear some of the old Casper.
‘And John said you did the right thing.’
Liam had only done what he had to. From the back of the queue of words, he heard the phrase, ‘I’d do anything for you,’ but it sounded feeble.
‘What was it like, being there on your own?’ he asked instead.
‘Don’t feel guilty.’
‘I’m not. I can’t imagine it, that’s all.’
‘To be honest,’ Casper said, and the spring creaked again. ‘I fell asleep. It took a while to remember, because of the bang on my head, but you were there one minute, and the next, there’s this old guy with a torch.’
‘Old,’ Liam chuckled. ‘He’s thirty-nine.’
‘Yeah,’ Casper whispered. ‘Don’t you find that odd?’
‘What? Being thirty-nine?’
‘He’s nearly forty, and Gary’s only twenty-something.’
‘So? You can see they’re meant to be together, can’t you?’
When Casper didn’t reply, Liam turned to face him, and this time was met by faint body heat.
‘Go on then,’ Liam said, gathering confidence because they were finally talking for freely. ‘Tell me. Does it upset you?’
‘What?’
‘Seeing two men being together.’
‘No,’ Casper objected. ‘See it all the time on television.’
‘You looked really uncomfortable.’
‘Yeah, well that’s something else.’
‘The thing you left behind? The reason you came with me?’
‘I came with you because I wanted to come with you,’ Casper said, boosting Liam’s confidence a little further. ‘But yes, that’s part of it.’
‘I wish you’d tell me part of what.’
‘Why do you always have to know everything about me?’
Because I love you. It would have been the ideal time to blurt it out, but the road was still blocked by the fear of rejection.
‘Because you’re my mate,’ slipped by, however, and hot on its heels came, ‘And because I care about you.’
That was edging dangerously close to a confession, and when Liam had confessed in the tent, Casper had spun off at a corner. Not wanting to go down that route again, Liam toned it down.
‘I’ve never said that before,’ he said. ‘But it’s always been implied.’
‘I know.’
‘And just because of what I said earlier, doesn’t give it a darker subtext.’
‘What are you talking about, Mozart?’
The mattress dipped, and Casper’s breath brushed Liam’s face.
‘Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I fancy you,’ Liam said, hardly believing he’d put both gay and fancy in one sentence, let alone one said to Casper.
What he believed more was that it was a lie. His dick was swelling, and resisting the desire to touch Casper added to his pain.
‘Are you sure you’re gay?’ Casper asked as if he was checking Liam was ready to start a duet.
‘Yes,’ Liam replied. ‘I am. And if that upsets you… Well, what can I do about it?’
Casper didn’t answer, and Liam listened to his breathing in the unbearable time it took for him to think what to say next which was, ‘It wasn’t a rhetorical question. What have I done to piss you off?’
‘You haven’t,’ Casper said. ‘You’re still my mate.’
Just mate, Liam noted. It was the best he could hope for, and he was about to turn over, when Casper said, ‘Do you fancy Jason?’
Liam had forgotten about Jason, and the image of what they’d done together sprang into his head. It was followed by an image of his face, and Liam replied honestly.
‘No.’
‘So, what was it?’ Casper asked.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Why did you… go with him? You did, didn’t you?’
Liam was sure he hadn’t told Casper; he hadn’t told anyone, but he wouldn’t put it past Jason to have told the two Steves, and if he had, word would have been passed around school faster than a porn site password.
‘Who said that?’ he probed, hoping for more information while not actually denying it.
‘Being honest?’ Casper said. ‘Jason did.’
‘Oh yeah? When?’
It wasn’t the fact that Casper knew that upset Liam, it was how long he’d known and not said anything.
‘Couple of months,’ Casper said as if it was nothing.
‘And you didn’t ask me? You just believed him?’
‘No, actually,’ Casper replied, affronted. ‘I assumed he said it to put me off you.’
‘And it has.’
‘No.’
‘Then…’
Liam couldn’t grasp it and didn’t want to talk about it. Jason had no place in the bed, but Casper had other ideas.
‘What did you do?’ he asked.
This was the moment where, in books and films, Liam would tell him, and Casper would ask to try it. His best mate would seduce him into giving a blow job after which Casper would regret it, remind Liam he was straight, and tell him not to say anything or he’d be in trouble; a classic case of curiosity killing the friendship.
Liam had never trusted those stories. ‘Wanked each other off,’ he said. It had been hurried and fumbled, and the words were tainted with disgust.
The Students of Barrenmoor Ridge Page 22