‘You didn’t love him?’
‘Cass. Please! What’s that? Greek naïvety? You don’t have to love someone to give them a handjob.’
At this point in the film, the other character would ask his buddy if he wanted to show him what it was like. Now that the abominable idea that two guys having sex had anything to do with love was out of the picture, the scene could unfold in the classic, man-on-man, basic foreplay scenario, the backbone of any straight-to-gay porn flick Liam had seen.
Casper, however, just said, ‘Oh.’
Liam had had enough of the roadblock and dodged it in a rash manoeuvre that left the other unsaid words standing.
‘Okay,’ he said, breathless but in control. ‘What would you say if I said I was in love with you?’
The clock ticked fifty-two times before Casper answered. Liam counted each one as he lay trembling and as stiff as a board with Casper facing him only a foot away. All he had to do was reach out and touch. Casper would get the message and either turn away or touch him in return. Whichever happened, Liam would know once and for all, but his hand remained where it was, tucked beneath his chest as if to stop his pounding heart from bursting through his ribcage.
‘See you in the morning, Mozart,’ Casper said, and turned over.
Twenty
When sleep came, it was nothing more than a brief intervention in a night filled with chaotic thoughts and frustration. At times, the temptation to move closer to Casper was overwhelming, and staying away took an agonising effort. Liam lay planning how he might sigh and roll onto his back, letting one hand drop innocently onto Casper’s thigh to feel his warmth and know the touch of his body then lie in wait for Cass to return the gesture. If Casper said anything, Liam could pretend he was asleep. If he didn’t object, Liam’s hand could slip across or lower, just to feel more of him while all the time offering the excuse that he was unaware of his actions. When he was unable to bring himself to do that, he pondered other ideas. How he might stretch his legs as he turned, and end up entwined with Cass, or how he could fake a bad dream, roll and end up with Cass in his arms, feigning ignorance in the morning.
None of the ideas came to fruition as he lay listening to the incessant ticking of the clock and the constant fall of rain beyond the window. His body was exhausted from the last couple of days, and his mind turned to mush as he berated himself for his lack of courage. It was an impossible situation and one that would only be made bearable if he was able to forget the whole notion that Cass would magically say he felt the same way.
Sleep came at some point because the next thing Liam knew, he was waking to a lighter room. The rain had stopped, but the clock was still ticking, and he was able to see it not far away on a bookcase. It read eight thirty, and he was alone in the bed. The sheet beside him was cold, and he wondered what time Casper had got up. Next, he wondered if Casper had left the house, and the thought that he might already be on his way home panicked him into action.
The bathroom mirror presented a pale face with shadows beneath his eyes and a stubble he hated. If Cass didn’t shave, his chin became dark and manly overnight, but for Liam, the growth was nothing but patchy, reddish-blond fluff, and the only way to avoid being called a circus freak was to shave. Finding an unused Bic in the cupboard, he took care of it, and after washing, detected the return of a little self-respect. It would need encouragement to grow, and the only way to do that was to pretend nothing had happened and treat Cass as he had always done; as his mate and nothing more.
‘New day, new start.’ He repeated the mantra as he tidied the bathroom.
Heading to the sitting room, he expected to find the others having breakfast, but worryingly, there was only Gary, and he was sorting laundry at the dining table.
‘Alright, mate?’ he chirped, one of Casper’s t-shirts tucked beneath his neck as he folded it. ‘Sleep okay?’
‘Yeah,’ Liam lied. ‘Where is everyone?’
‘John and Casper have gone to Inglestone.’ Gary nodded towards the back window where the curtains were open. ‘They’ll not be long.’
Liam hadn’t seen the view from there, and it was breathtaking. The ground sloped away until it dropped out of sight, revealing a faraway, model-village world beyond. A river was picked out in the wintery sunlight that, without clouds to blemish its feeble force, turned the fields into a roughly thrown quilt of grey-greens and earthy browns. With stone walls appearing like hairline cracks running through it, the scene was much like he had seen from the top of Fellborough, only brighter, with no wind and no threatening sky.
New day, new start.
‘There’s good news,’ Gary said. ‘Oh, help yourself to whatever from the kitchen. The kettle’s hot. Make yourself at home.’
Liam was too hungry to concern himself with etiquette, and Gary had made him so welcome, to ask if he was sure would be pointless. Instead, he made for the collection of cereals as if he had lived in the house for weeks.
‘Good news?’ he asked.
‘Yeah. Betty called about half an hour ago. Someone found Casper’s rucksack in a ginnel behind the high street. He’s gone to pick it up.’
‘They’re coming back?’
‘Oh, you bet.’
‘Why d’you say it like that?’
Gary grinned across the countertop as he shook out a pair of narrow leggings. ‘How did you get on last night?’ he asked, avoiding the question. ‘Did you talk?’
‘Not really,’ Liam admitted. ‘I tried.’
‘And?’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ Liam poured milk and was putting it back in the fridge when he asked, ‘How was Casper this morning?’
‘Fine,’ Gary said attending to the last item in his laundry pile. ‘He was having breakfast when I got up. John had given him a quick check-up, and everything’s fine. He’s a fit lad.’
‘I know.’
Liam sat on a high stool and leant on the counter facing the sitting room as he watched Gary arrange various piles of clothes on chairs. It was so ordinarily domestic, he expected to see him set up an ironing board and ask Liam if he wouldn’t mind running the hoover over the carpet, but once the clothes were arranged, Gary brought another stool and sat opposite.
‘Tell me if it’s not my business,’ he said. ‘But did you tell him?’
Liam had to remind himself that he’d only known this guy for a day. Gary’s easy manner, his laid-back ‘do what you want’ approach gave Liam the impression they had been friends for years. To ignore his question would be rude, and to lie was unthinkable. Besides, he needed to talk to someone.
‘I tried,’ he admitted. ‘I wanted to make sure we were okay, you know, back to how we were before I told him I was… But it kept getting in the way.’
‘What did?’
‘Being gay.’
Coming out to Casper had been painful, and Liam could think of no other analogy than squeezing a pimple; pressure building, not wanting to touch it, knowing he shouldn’t, but having no choice. A painful few seconds followed by a release as the infection cleared, and the pressure had gone. What was left behind soon faded.
Not the most pleasant image, but apt. Now it was out in the open, to think of himself as gay wasn’t shameful, not with Gary, gay, out and nodding encouragement.
‘I had this overwhelming need to throw myself at him,’ Liam admitted. ‘Ridiculous, and not something I could tell him. He asked me about Jason… That’s this guy at school… Long story… Cass asked if I loved him. That was embarrassing, talking about love with your bestie, but at the same time, I thought he was leading me somewhere, so I went for it. Kind of.’
‘You threw yourself at him?’
Gary was suddenly wide-eyed, like a long-standing confidant who had followed the story of Liam’s life through the years and wanted to know t
he latest chapter.
‘No,’ Liam said. ‘I asked him what he would say if I told him I was in love with him.’
‘And?’
‘I was bricking myself, but he didn’t take the hint. Either that, or he ignored the message which I thought was so clear it could have been tattooed on my forehead.’
‘And?’
‘And? He told me to go to sleep. Just said he’d see me in the morning.’
‘That was it?’
‘Yeah.’
Gary looked away for a moment and then back, and in the time it took, his expression changed. He was concerned. ‘Bet you didn’t sleep much.’
‘Hardly at all.’
Liam ate in silence waiting for wise words that would see him through the day, but Gary only said, ‘Hm,’ as if he was considering the next move in a game of chess, and when he did speak, he changed the subject.
‘What’s the highest you’ve climbed?’
The question was so unrelated, Liam didn’t understand, but then he saw the framed photos and remembered where he was.
‘About eighty feet, why?’
‘Fancy doing it again?’
‘I don’t get you.’
‘Okay,’ Gary said, leaving his stool and coming around to the kitchen to boil the kettle. ‘Here’s the plan, and it’s totally up to you. Oh, do you want coffee?’
‘Yeah, please. One sugar.’ Liam spun in his seat with his bowl in one hand while he watched Gary move about the kitchen.
‘John had this idea,’ Gary continued. ‘We’re not doing much for a couple of days, and Casper said you weren’t going home until after the weekend because you wanted to see some more sights. Fair enough. Anyway, John thought you might want to get in a route or two while you were up here, and we’re happy to take you. There’s a place on the other side of the fell called Hawken Lookout. Locals just call it The Hawks. It’s an escarpment, a set of medium-diff ascents to a couple of hundred feet in the Beatlesledge Valley. Limestone, great climbing.’
‘Hang on. Casper said we weren’t going home?’
‘Yes. I mean, no, he didn’t say exactly that, but he doesn’t want to go home just yet. Why? Do you?’
Liam had assumed Casper would be keen to get away from him as soon as he could, but learning that was not the case, reinforced what he had told himself in the bathroom; carry on as normal and pretend the embarrassments of the last couple of days hadn’t happened.
‘No,’ he said. ‘But we’ve put you to enough trouble already.’
Gary laughed, and when he said, ‘Shut up!’ it sounded slightly effeminate. ‘We’d love it,’ he said in a more manly manner. ‘Like John said, we don’t have visitors often, and there’s something about you two he likes. Me too, of course, and yeah, no trouble, it’ll be fun.’
‘I don’t have much money.’
‘What’s that got to do wi’ owt?’ Gary spooned instant coffee into two mugs. ‘It’s an invitation, not a timeshare.’
‘You mean, go climbing and then get the train after?’ Liam was confused by the guy’s kindness.
‘No,’ Gary laughed. ‘I mean go climbing, go to the pub later, stay here a couple of nights.’
‘Why?’
‘Fucking hell, mate.’ Gary shook his head, but he was still grinning. ‘Bloody southerners, you’ve got no idea of northern hospitality.’ He added sugar to the mugs and filled them before bringing them to the counter. ‘If you’re not interested, that’s fine too, but Casper was up for it.’
‘He was?’
‘Aye, lad,’ Gary sighed. ‘Let me tell thee ’ow it were…’ Sounding like a film character relating a backstory, he continued. ‘Casper and our John were sat here while morning. I were reet there, earwigging like, and our John comes up with the idea as I just told thee. After our chat yesterday, I reckoned you might have said summat to Cass, so I were paying attention in case he said owt. He didn’t, but I can tell thee, lad, your man be ’appy as pig in shit.’
‘You sound like something from a TV comedy.’ Liam smiled.
‘Aye, well, ’appen I be in a good mood.’ Watering the accent down to a more familiar level, he went on. ‘Casper’s up for it, we certainly are. Are you?’
‘Would we be in the way?’
‘No. And it would give you a chance to sort yourselves out.’
Returning home felt like running away, and although Liam didn’t know what he had done to deserve such kindness, staying would give him more time with Casper away from their usual routine, and that was what the trip had been about. That and seeing Ribblehead, coming out and hoping his life would then become easier.
One out of three wasn’t good enough, and if they did stay, he might still be able to see the viaduct before they ran out of time.
‘If it helps,’ Gary said after an age of silence. ‘John is one of the best high-altitude mountaineers in the country, and I’m a qualified instructor. You’d be safe.’
‘I wasn’t worried about that.’
When Liam looked up from his half-empty bowl, Gary was frowning sympathetically.
‘You’ve got to let it go, mate,’ he said. ‘It’s doing you no good.’
‘I can’t. I want to, I want everything to be as it was before I got this stupid idea about coming away and telling him, but at the same time, I want it to be different.’ Liam sounded too desperate. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
‘Eh, by ’eck.’ Gary rolled his eyes. ‘Bloody southerners always apologising.’ He patted Liam’s hand. ‘I know it’s not easy, mate, but you’ll get over it. Hey, you know what my mum used to say to me when I were stuck on something?’
Liam shook his head. Of course he didn’t.
‘She’d say, “Gary, son. None but the brave deserve the fair.” And she were right.’ When he saw that Liam still didn’t understand, he said, ‘In other words, if you want something, just go for it. Of course, me mam ended up as an alcoholic and buggered off when I were sixteen, so I’d not pay too much attention, but the point’s the same. Lee…’ He took his hand more firmly this time. ‘If you’re the one for Casper, he’ll get there. If you’re not, then there’s fuck all you can do about it. Meantime, enjoy the company and take it for what it is, yeah?’
Gary had said exactly what Liam had been trying to tell himself, except, coming from him, it was more convincing.
‘Okay,’ Liam nodded. ‘I’ll try. And yeah, if Cass is up for it, so am I.’
When Casper and John returned an hour later, Cass was not only up for it, he was bubbling with enthusiasm. Practically falling into the room carrying slings and ropes, he dumped them on the sofa, his face flushed and beaming. Liam hadn’t seen him so cheerful since he’d mastered the Albinoni piece for his grade eight.
‘Are you coming?’ he asked as if he was going no matter what Liam decided.
When Liam said he was, Casper launched himself across the room, his arm bent, hand fisted, forcing Liam to react in their time-honoured way; a quick fist bump followed by a shoulder nudge.
‘I got my bag back,’ Casper said. ‘A bit wet, but everything’s okay. An old lady found it behind her house and dropped it back at the café.’
‘More proof it wasn’t taken by a climber.’ John had entered behind the whirlwind and was pulling off his gloves. ‘Definitely someone like Mark Ward with no respect for other people’s property. Morning, Lee,’ he added as he passed through to the kitchen to give Gary a kiss.
‘Yeah, hi.’
‘I told him it’s okay to call you Lee,’ Casper said. ‘Hope you don’t mind.’
‘No. You’re cheerful.’
‘It’s wonderful out there.’ Casper was at the window. ‘Cold, but you’d never guess that storm had happened.’
‘We borrowed some gear from the centre,’ John was
telling Gary. ‘You want to load the car while I fix a flask or two?’
‘I can help,’ Cass volunteered.
When he and Gary had left, Liam stood in the middle of the sitting room as if he’d just survived a hurricane. John was busy in the kitchen, packing Tupperware and making up flasks of tea, whistling cheerfully and breaking off to ask himself where he’d put things, while through the front windows, Liam watched Casper and Gary load the climbing gear into the back of the Land Rover.
It was surreal, but this was what he had wanted. Normality.
‘What can I do?’ he asked, feeling left out.
‘Give us a hand,’ John said. ‘We’ll do sandwiches for later. Then you’ll need to try on Gary’s spare kit.’ Looking Liam up and down, he said, ‘Should fit you, and you can’t climb in those. Bread’s there. Butter’s in the fridge.’
‘This is very kind of you.’
‘No, it isn’t. We’d be out somewhere on a day like this anyhow. There’s cheese.’
‘I see it.’
They stood side by side with Liam spreading butter and John slicing Cheddar as if it was the most natural thing for one of the world’s leading mountaineers to be making a packed lunch with a teenage music nerd. Liam could manage a complicated Mozart fantasia, but he wasn’t so sure about a two-hundred-foot cliff, not with someone like John watching him, and he said so.
‘We were thinking about one twenty, actually,’ John said. ‘There’s a decent route at The Hawks, permanently pegged, and Cass says you’re good. Do you mind me calling your friend Cass?’
‘No. Everyone does.’
‘Didn’t want you to think I was muscling in or anything.’
‘Muscling in on what?’
‘You came up here to be alone, and now we’re taking over your trip. Is that okay?’
‘Yes, of course.’
It was better than okay, because without John’s intervention, Casper might be dead and Liam waiting at Bentham station for a delayed train home to oblivion. The decision to stay had obviously pleased Casper, and that was what really mattered.
The Students of Barrenmoor Ridge Page 23