CHAPTER FOURTEEN
It was nearly 3.00 am by the time I let myself into Matthew’s flat, having told my mother I would be crashing down on a mattress in the penthouse apartment above The Connie. (Shaun and Lou had already moved in although it was not quite ready yet.)
Matthew was sprawled on the bed, fast asleep. Lights had been left on everywhere. Too tired even to clean my teeth, I turned them off as I crept into the bedroom and lay beside Matthew. The shiny cover of a paperback novel caught my attention and I leaned to retrieve it from the floor where weary fingers had let it drop. Matthew stirred and opened his eyes. “What time is it?” he yawned. I told him. He swore and watched me undress. “You said you’d be late but not this late,” he murmured, letting his gaze linger on my private parts.
“Would you rather I left?” I gladly eased my body into his warm embrace.
“I’ll think about it,” he chuckled, wide awake now, just seconds before thrusting an eager tongue between my lips. I vaguely recalled reading somewhere that this was considered crass, and wondered why.
All the anxieties and tensions of the past few days dissolved in the heat of Matthew’s renewed vitality. The first welcoming pressure of his mouth on mine seemed to release a spring in us both. Our bodies came together in rapturous harmony, an escalating passion breathing fire into every quivering ounce of flesh. I relished the touch of his hands and lips, the silky wetness of his tongue, every ripple through his body invading mine. I was in heaven, a willing captive of a mutual, feverish imagination.
As I had turned the key in the lock, all but overcome by nervous exhaustion, I’d have settled for a cuddle. Not any more. Any lingering reservations we may have once harboured towards one another were abandoned. We made love with a heady mixture of tenderness and lust. I felt as though I were freefalling, caught up in a delirium of total release. Later, as I lay in his arms, listening to the hushed sounds of his breathing while he slept, a stray thread of half light filtering through the curtains and homing in on us like a laser beam, it suddenly struck me that Matthew hadn’t used a condom.
A momentary panic flared in me, only to flicker and die almost in the same instant. Matthew, I knew instinctively, would never do anything to hurt me. Hadn’t he told me over and over again during out lovemaking how much he cared for me?
Not for the first time, I wondered whether I truly loved him and thought I probably did. I snuggled up to him and let his warm breath ruffle my hair. The gentle heaving of his bare chest was like a lullaby to my weary, contented body. I started to whisper, “I love you” in his ear. But he was dead to the world so what was the point? Even so, I felt better for at least having thought it, and drifted into a sounder sleep than I deserved.
It was past noon when I awoke to find myself alone in the brand new, sumptuous double bed. I sat bolt upright in a cold sweat but relaxed almost at once as Matthew entered wheeling a tea trolley. “Brunch is served,” he announced with a wickedly beguiling twinkle in each eye. I was so glad to see him that I flung my arms wide and he hurled himself at me. One flying foot sent the trolley shooting crazily across the room as he landed in my embrace and almost knocked the stuffing out of me. We collapsed in fits of laughter, but eventually settled down long enough to enjoy a kiss. It was nothing passionate, just a kiss, pure and simple. He is my best friend, I thought, and I love him.
While Matthew rescued the trolley, I savoured the moment. It crossed my mind that I could never have kissed Billy without being sexually aroused. This, between Matthew and me, was something different, something special, something good, and something with which I felt completely at ease. Billy and I had been more than just lovers. We had been close friends too…Well, hadn’t we? The mutual thrill of our awakening sexuality had bound us like an umbilical cord. But this, with Matthew ... This was new, special, better, and forever. Or so I wanted to believe.
Matthew handed me a tray on which rested a sunny yellow plate heaped with fried eggs, rashers of bacon, fried bread, tomatoes and baked beans. Not before pouring two mugs of tea from a stainless steel pot and placing them on a bedside cupboard did he take a second plate of fry-up and slip effortlessly into bed beside me. We tucked in with relish.
The weeks that followed were hectic but immensely enjoyable. The Connie was fast becoming popular with all sorts, not just the young crowd we had anticipated. Liam, our chef, went for simplicity and quality. Gary, our regular DJ went for just about anything; pop, rave, reggae, heavy metal, C&W…you name it. Both went down a treat with the punters, who turned out to be a mixed bag; mostly young people, but some not-so-young ones too.
“Keep the locals happy, dear heart,” Bo warned on a flying visit, “and be sure to pamper any golden oldies you may have on your doorstep. Get their danders up, bless ’em, and you’ll have the cops breathing down your neck before you know it, looking for drugs and heaven knows what else. Besides,” he added wryly, “they do a far better job of keeping the hotheads down than a dozen beefy bouncers, believe you me.”
I had practically moved in with Matthew, and it was only a matter of time before my mother smelled a rat. Matthew was reluctant to discuss the situation. “You must make you own mind up,” he’d say, and then change the subject. But I wasn’t easily put off. This is our future we’re talking about here, damn it.
“My mother,” I protested, will say I’m too young, even though I’m nineteen and legal.”
“Parents always say that. If they had their way, we’d never be allowed to grow up and make our own decisions. It’s understandable where same sex relationships are concerned, I suppose. It’s a generation thing. Most of them are leftovers from the Dark Ages, for heaven’s sake. Gay sex was a taboo, and now it’s not. We’ve moved on. They can either move on too or…”
“Throw us out on the street and disown us!” I reflected bitterly.
“Some do, it’s true, but do you honestly think your mother would do that?” I shook my head after only the briefest pause. “So credit her with some understanding, and tell her about us. I’ll support you, of course I will, just don’t expect me to hold your hand while you do the dirty deed.”
“There’s nothing dirty about us!”
“Exactly…” Matthew would grin, take me in his arms and kiss away my worst misgivings. Only, they kept returning to haunt me.
I talked to Lou about telling my mother about Matthew and me. She took much the same view as he did, insisting it was down to me if and when I chose to break the news. “We’re living in the twenty-first century for heaven’s sake. Gay rights and all that…”
“Yes, but…”
“There will always be buts, Rob. We just have to find ways round them.”
“Easier said than done,” I sighed.
“So what isn’t?” she retorted with an insight that should not have surprised me but did. She went on to invite Matthew and myself for a meal one evening and we’d already settled on the following Wednesday before I had time to consider Matthew’s likely reaction. As it turned out, he seemed genuinely pleased. Any doubts I might have had were more than compensated for by the knowledge that The Connie would be fairly quiet at mid-week. In any case, Shaun and I would be on hand if needed.
I had begun to look on Shaun as a deputy manager. From the start, he demonstrated a flair for organizational as well as excellent interpersonal skills. Members of staff were as likely to discuss any work-related problems with him as with me, if not more so. We saw little of Clive Rider but for his turning up, not infrequently, to whisk Maggie away at the drop of a hat with no regard for duty rosters. Maggie never demurred. Oh, she was a good worker and more of an asset to the place than I’d have thought possible. But her relationship with the owner did nothing to endear her to many colleagues.
I was nervous about the meal although I kept telling myself I had no cause. It wasn’t as if Shaun and Lou didn’t already know and appear to like Matthew. Yet, rightly or wrongly, it felt like a formal declaration that we were a couple, and I was desperately anxious that nothing should happen to spoil things between us. It’s one thing to tell people, even friends, that you’re gay, but quite another to turn up for dinner with a boyfriend on your arm. Everyone, though, was relaxed and natural. Everyone, that is, except me.
Lou did us proud with melon for starters then a tasty sirloin of beef and vegetables followed by a delicious zabaglione dessert. She and Matthew discovered a mutual love of the countryside, and spent a good part of the evening trying to convince Sean and me there was nothing more relaxing than a good ramble.
Shaun pricked up his ears when Matthew confided that he planned to buy a motorbike, and so did I.
“But you already have a car!” I could not believe my ears.
“It’s not the same,” Matthew attempted to explain, “Compared with riding a bike, driving a car is so…dull, uninspiring.”
“You bet, absolutely!” I had rarely seen Shaun so animated.
As the conversation buzzed around me I only caught the occasional word but kept thinking, involuntarily, how I had never so much as got to ride pillion with Billy. He had worshipped that bike. I would never forget the look on his face when he came into the café alone that night after crashing it. Nor was the prevailing irony lost on me. But for Billy’s misfortune, I couldn’t help reflecting with a guilty start, I might never have found the courage to confront my sexuality.
“So, how about it Rob...?” Shaun was asking and I had to confess to being miles away. “We take a trip to the New Forest when Matt gets his bike? The four of us…”
I barely managed to stay with the conversation. Moreover, my hackles rose sharply (if irrationally, I vaguely conceded) at Shaun’s use of the diminutive. I did not see Matthew as a Matt. He was Matthew, solid and dependable. Yet, here was Shaun not only making my Matthew out to be a Matt, but also turning him into some kind of motorcycle freak. My hackles rose even further, and it did no good to keep reminding myself that it was Matthew who had raised the subject in the first place. I felt like pointing out that The Connie could not be left to run itself, but even to me it smacked sufficiently of killjoy to persuade me to keep quiet.
“They make a great couple,” Matthew remarked as we made our way back to the flat. “I like them a lot.”
“Good,” was all I said, ignoring the old-fashioned look Matthew flung at me although he said nothing. We walked the rest of the way in an increasingly strained silence. Suddenly, I wanted to go home, to my mother’s house, rather than spend the night with Matthew. I couldn’t for the life of me have explained why, I just did. I tried to frame the words, but they sounded petty in my head, as if I was sulking, and I wasn’t, or so I managed to convince myself.
Back at the flat, Matthew offered to pour us both a brandy. I declined, and could barely contain a growing resentment as I watched him pour one for himself and plainly relish every sip. What’s the matter with me? Not caring to look too closely for an answer, I went to the bathroom and cleaned my teeth so hard my gums bled. We often shared the bathroom, but not this time. As I passed him on the way back to the bedroom, we stubbornly ignored each other.
I was already half undressed when Matthew joined me. “I hope you’ll make a damn sight more of an effort when you get to meet some of my friends,” he said testily as he sat on the bed, his back to me while unbuttoning his shirt front before proceeding to wrestle with the cuff links as he always did. I heard him curse. A wry grin crept up on my lips, but had second thoughts and beat a hasty retreat. “Damn cufflinks!” he swore again. I usually leapt to his recue, but not tonight.
Neither of us could even bear to look at each other. “Meaning what?” I demanded without turning to face him. “I thought the evening went pretty well.” I lied.
“You weren’t exactly the life and soul, were you? They’re your friends but you left everything up to me!”
“So? You put on a good enough show for the both of us,” I commented acidly and instantly wanted to retract but didn’t know how.
“What show?” Now it was his turn to get angry. “I really like Lou and Shaun. I thought that’s what you wanted, for us all to get along. I guess we did, although your sulking most of the evening didn’t help!”
I turned round and faced him. “I was not sulking!”
“No? You could have fooled me.”
“It was embarrassing,” I mumbled and could not meet his steady gaze, “You and Shaun. It was Sean this and Matt that, like a couple of school kids.”
To my horror, Matthew burst out laughing. “You were jealous. That’s it, isn’t it? You were jealous because we got on so well. Bloody hell, Rob, you can be such a baby sometimes!”
A huge grin did little to take the sting out of his words and I could have hit him. Instead, I leapt up from the bed and started to get dressed. “I don’t have to stay and listen to this crap!” I yelled. “If you must know…”
“Yes?” Matthew was on his feet now too. We confronted each other like enemies poised for battle across the bed. The grin had left his face, his whole body coiled like a wild beast poised to spring.
I swallowed hard. There was no going back. Or was there?
“If I must know, what...?”
“I thought you were as loud and defensive as they were bloody patronising!” I blurted. Having had already convinced myself it was the case, the words rang true enough in my ears at the time. He seemed to relax, even smiled but it was a hurt smile that made me want to take it all back, tell him how sorry I was for behaving like an idiot, and make love. I hadn’t wanted to earlier, but now I did, and with a passion that all but overwhelmed me where I stood, just staring at him blankly, saying nothing.
“Better to find out soon rather than later, I suppose,” he said softly, paused and then, “Just my luck. I think I’m madly in love with a really nice guy who feels the same, and he turns out to be an ignorant little fart who doesn’t give a monkey’s about anyone but himself.”
Every word cut me to the quick. “Oh, suit yourself,” I snapped. “I’m off.” I hurriedly continued dressing.
“How right you are,” said Matthew in that same soft, cutting voice, “You’re off, alright, off as in way off the mark, off as in knickers in a twist over nothing. We’re gay, Rob, that’s all. So stop being so bloody defensive about it. Get down off that high horse of yours and lighten up or…”
“Or...?”
“You and I are finished.”
I digested this with some difficulty, but anger got the better of any self-reproach. “How dare you?” I exploded. “So maybe I am defensive, so what? At least I’m not a fucking closet! Nowhere near as much as you are, anyway. Even teachers can’t get sacked for being gay these days so what’s your problem about coming out?”
“Oh, and you’re ‘out’ are you? A few people know you’re gay so that makes everything okay, and if the rest guess, what the heck, eh? You are joking? For heaven’s sake, Rob, you haven’t even told your own family!”
“And you have?”
“As it happens, yes, and they don’t want anything more to do with me.” He gave a despairing shrug that cut me to the quick, “So much for twenty-first century liberal thinking, eh?” He laughed, but it was a very hollow, self-mocking sound that ripped the guts out of me. I wanted to fling myself at him and give him a cuddle. But the moment passed.
You and I are finished. His words had the effect of a bucket of icy cold water emptying over me. I suddenly felt very cold, could not stop shivering or stop a sickening fear taking over my whole body. I took deep breaths. Each one invoked a different snapshot of that evening, punctuated with more than a word of truth in what Matthew had said.
As I stared at Matthews’s flushed profile, I saw that he was right. I was jealous. All evening I had listened to the three of them chatting away like old friends and shutting me out. No, not shutting me out. Rather, I had stubbornly refused to join in. I had so wanted things to go well and they had, but with precious little help from me. They had cheated me out of the leading role I’d expected to play. “I’m sorry!” I burst into tears. “I’m just not up to all this. I thought I was, but I’m not,” I mumbled, tears streaming down my face.
“All what?” he demanded icily. Even so, I thought I detected a slight thawing in his tone.
“You, me, this whole gay thing,” I gestured helplessly, “I thought I could handle it but now I’m not so sure. I was completely out of my depth tonight, with people I’ve known for years dammit.” I had to look away and was instantly distracted by the sight of a moth stuck to a patch of moonlight on a curtain at the window, flapping its wings like a mad thing.
Matthew dived across the bed and grabbed me. Not until his arms folded around me and I could feel his hot, quick breath on my neck, did the moth fly away nor did I give a damn where.
“I only wanted to do you proud,” he whispered.
“You did. I was the one who let everyone down.”
“I don’t think anyone noticed, except me. Shaun and Lou are probably used to your little sulks. What’s one more between friends?” I stiffened, hackles rising again. But he chuckled in my ear, and I relaxed. “I was shit scared too, you know.”
I wriggled swung round in his embrace until I was could have looked into his eyes, but kept mine slightly averted, hands resting gently if not a shade nervously on his shoulders. You were scared?” I was incredulous.
“You bet. Oh, I like Shaun and Lou a lot, I really do. But that didn’t stop me feeling as if I were on trial the whole evening. The look on your face didn’t help. Go on, it said, be my guest and make a complete hash of things. See if I care…”
“But you were great!” I felt suddenly light-headed, “I could tell they thought so and…Well, maybe you’re right. Maybe I was jealous. I just kept wishing I had half your self-confidence.” I had to look away, ashamed.
“It’s a mirage, believe me!” he joked. Taking my chin firmly in one hand, he gently tilted it so I was forced to meet the wicked twinkle in his eyes. “I did it for you. I only went to please you. I did it for us,” he corrected himself, and I felt my head swim. There was a long pause while we both did brief battle with wary alter egos. “I love you,” he said at last.
I kissed him, lightly at first because I wasn’t convinced he had forgiven me. I needn’t have worried. His mouth was gently insisting, infinitely tender, and sent shivers of relief down my spine. I let him pull me down against him, and lay there for a long time, blissfully content just to feel his arms around me in the still, sweet silence of an ecstasy that would later swallow us up, body and soul, as we made love.
