Veering off Course (The Navigation Quartet Book 1)

by Chris Cheek

  ***

  As April drifted into a warm early May, Sedgethwaite’s new coach service settled into a routine. Passenger numbers went from strength to strength, attracted by low fares and internet booking.

  David found coach driving interesting and challenging. He particularly enjoyed interacting with the passengers, though he recognised that motorway driving might eventually become tedious and boring.

  His first overnight trip was during the second week of operation. Mona continued to insist that she wasn’t worried about being left on her own with the boys. David had a couple of stolen phone conversations with Alan, in which they made arrangements to meet up, alongside a certain amount of flirting and joking around. Thus it was that David left Sedgethwaite at two-thirty in the afternoon, looking forward to his first night away from home for many years.

  All went smoothly and the journey was trouble-free. They pulled into Victoria dead on time and David took the coach across the river to the overnight coach park. They’d arranged for Alan to meet him at the coach park this time so David could get his bearings.

  As he pulled the empty vehicle in, drove through the wash, fuelled and parked it, he felt nervous. He would be seeing Alan again, visiting his flat for the first time, spending the night there… These were new and exciting experiences but also a bit scary, outside his comfort zone. For a start, he was in London, more than 200 miles from home, from anything he’d ever known. Meeting his old pal again in Sedgethwaite had been easy; he was on home territory, surrounded by known landmarks and recognisable streets. Even at Auntie Mary’s house, everything had been familiar. Now, though, who knew?

  Then he dismissed his fears. This was Alan. His Al, his friend for seventeen and more years. What could possibly go wrong?

  He shook his head, got out of the cab and headed for the exit to the coach park. He turned out of the gate and there was a familiar figure, standing by a stylish BMW.

  David plastered a grin on his face and stepped forward to meet his buddy.

  Chapter 16

  Alan

  Alan’s flat was a new conversion at the top of a Victorian house. It was spacious, cheerful and bright, helped by the high ceilings, cheerful decorations and modern furniture.

  It was clear that David was impressed. Alan followed him from room to room, amused by his friend’s enthusiasm for what he had come to take for granted. Not having seen the Edgeley household, he had no point of comparison – but he could guess what David’s home was like.

  Eventually, he managed to slow David down long enough to haul him into a hug and kiss him. “I’m glad you like it.”

  “It’s really great, Al. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a place that looks so … well, cheerful.”

  “What about me? Aren’t I really great too, Davy?”

  “Of course, you daft bugger. Taken as read.”

  They kissed again, longer and harder. “Welcome to my home, Davy, and welcome back into my life.”

  “You say the nicest things, Al.”

  Allan pulled away. “Food,” he said, breaking their embrace and heading down the short flight of stairs to the half-landing where the kitchen was. “There you are, having driven such a big vehicle all the way from Yorkshire. You must be starving. Come and eat.”

  As soon as the date had been set and the details finalised, Alan had gone into panic mode. He had worried for several days about how to strike the right note. Should they go out or stay in, cook at home or get take away? And if he cooked, what to have – exotic or basic?

  He had entered into lengthy consultations with his friends and downstairs neighbours, Simon and Peter, and consulted Tris as well. Eventually, they had all agreed that staying in would be a good idea and that Alan should cook. Something simple but classic, like pasta. He chose lasagne because it was flexible – the final cooking could be postponed if David were delayed – and besides everybody loved it. He’d chosen a bottle of Valpolicella to go with it.

  The meal seemed to be a great success. David made appreciative noises as he ate, a sort of humming sound as he chewed, a trait that Alan remembered from childhood days, which filled him with nostalgia.

  Despite his obvious enjoyment of the food, though, David’s mood seemed to darken as the evening wore on. He smiled less often and became less talkative. He was no less affectionate, and obviously found it difficult if there was no physical contact of some sort between them, but still the mood darkened. The teasing and little jokes with which they had started the evening disappeared.

  After the meal, Alan made coffee, not a cup of instant in a mug but real coffee, from a filter machine, served in a cup. They took the coffee and the rest of the wine upstairs to the sitting room. Alan turned the lights down low and put on some music quietly in the background.

  He pointed Davy in the direction of the sofa, sat down in the chair opposite and looked closely at his friend. “Well?” he asked.

  “Well what?” David responded.

  “You’ve got quieter and quieter as the evening’s gone on. Are you okay?”

  “More than. I’ve had a lovely time, Al, and the meal was great.”

  “Why do I sense a ‘but’ coming?”

  David shook his head. “No ‘buts’. Your flat is lovely. The lasagne was great. I liked the wine, and the coffee. Oh, and the music too. It’s just … so different, that’s all.”

  “Different from what, Davy?”

  “My life. Your past. Everything. Where on earth would you find a place like this on Beckett’s Hill estate? It makes me…” He paused, groping for the word.

  “Jealous?”

  “No, no. That’s not it at all. It saddens me, because it makes me realise how narrow my life is, and how much I’m missing. I should’ve come with you, Al, all those years ago. I’m sorry I didn’t. I feel so ignorant, so out of my depth.” Suddenly David’s eyes filled and a stray tear found its way down his cheek.

  Alan moved across to the sofa and put his arm round David’s shoulder. “Hey, you mustn’t be upset. Tonight isn’t about making you feel inferior or bad about yourself – it’s about having fun, enjoying ourselves, like we always used to. The location’s different and the ingredients might have changed a bit, but it’s still us. We haven’t changed – it’s still Al and Davy having a good time. And you must admit that we were always bloody good at that.”

  David laughed at that and briskly wiped away the tears. “Aye, that’s bloody reight.”

  Alan squeezed his friend’s shoulders and kissed him on the temple. Slightly surprised at the gesture, David turned to look at him. The look Alan saw in his eyes melted his heart and he leaned forward for a kiss.

  After a few moments, David broke away and again looked into his friend’s eyes. “Oh, Al,” he said. “What the fuck am I going to do?”

  Chapter 17

  David

  “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome aboard this West Yorkshire express service to Sedgethwaite. My name is David and I am your driver…’

  David finished his welcome announcement and started the journey north. Within a few minutes, he was pushing his coach through Hyde Park Corner and swinging into Park Lane. Another journey was under way. Once again they had a good load – the coach was about three-quarters full, which was good going. It was a lovely day and it promised to be a smooth ride. With luck, he would get an hour or two in the garden this afternoon. One of the big advantages of his job was that it freed him up to do other things during the day, either after an early turn or before a late one. That way, you didn’t spend your entire life working – unless you did huge amounts of overtime, of course.

  During the ride up Finchley Road, David spent his time remembering Alan’s flat – how stylish it was, and how much he wanted to live somewhere like that, rather than in a dingy council house in Sedgethwaite.

  They reached Golders Green and picked up more customers before setting off north again and joining the motorway. The traffic was fairly quiet, so David had more time to thin
k.

  Memories of the previous night crowded in on him. He had been bowled over with Alan’s apartment from the moment he’d arrived. He’d compared the decoration with Mona’s taste for lively wallpaper with big patterns; he’d looked at the furniture and thought of their own cheap, vinyl-covered suite, which had been both fashionable and affordable when they’d bought it when he and Mona moved into the Beckett’s Hill house. It now looked worn and shabby.

  The other thing that had impressed David about the flat were the house plants; they were a revelation, giving the living room a life that its plain painted walls would not otherwise have had.

  Not to mention the delicious food, the wine and Alan’s charm as a host, which seemed so effortless. It had all fascinated David. To him, pasta was something you ate out of a packet or in a foreign restaurant – it wasn’t the sort of food you made at home, especially not cooked by a man. He certainly had not known what Valpolicella was; if he’d been asked, he would have said it involved wallpaper paste rather than red wine.

  The music Alan had played was unfamiliar but David liked the tune. What was the composer’s name? Yes, Mozart, wasn’t it. That rang a bell from his mum, who sometimes listened to Classic FM on the radio. He would remember the taste of the coffee for ever; he had been bowled over by the intensity of its flavour.

  Far more than the way he dressed, and drinking wine in the pub, it was the flat and the meal that showed David how far Alan had moved from his Yorkshire upbringing. This was a totally different world, a way of life as far removed from David’s as a Frenchman’s or a Spaniard’s. The gap between their lives and experience was now so wide that, when you thought about it, the two of them actually had very little in common save their shared memories.

  Yet it hadn’t felt like that. They had relaxed again; they had chatted, joked, laughed and taken the mickey out of each other exactly as they had always done when they were kids. Being with Alan just felt right – as instinctive as cleaning your teeth every morning.

  Of all the events of the visit, the one that stood out in David’s memory was sleeping with Alan in his bed. They had not had sex – somehow the question had not arisen – but lain together, wrapped in each other’s arms, kissing languidly on occasion, enjoying the comfort of being with each other. After a while, they both fell asleep; they had awoken in exactly the same position when Alan’s alarm clock had rung. Neither of them spoke much as they got ready for work but their farewell was tender – another gentle kiss from Alan.

  “Bye bye, Davy. See you next week. And thanks for last night.”

  “What for? It’s me that should be thanking you. I had a great time.”

  “I dare say, but thanks anyway. Just holding you this time was … well, a bit special.”

  Suddenly, a patch of roadworks was looming and it broke Davy’s train of thought. Forced to concentrate on the road ahead, he dismissed his memories.

  Chapter 18

  Alan

  David’s second overnight visit to the Clapham flat was scheduled to take place the following week. This time he would make his own way to the flat, whilst Alan would again cook them a meal.

  Although he was less nervous this time, Alan was nevertheless anxious that everything should go as smoothly as possible. But what he had not allowed for when they had planned these visits was the pressure on them that their enforced separation would generate. Nine days was a long time to be apart at this stage in a relationship; as a result, their need for each other was reaching almost feral proportions.

  Consequently, when Alan opened the door to his flat to find David on the threshold, food was the last thing on either of their minds. On that first occasion, their embraces had been comforting and the kisses gentle; this time, their visceral need for each other overrode any restraint.

  David stepped across the threshold straight into Alan’s welcoming arms and their lips collided in a long, passionate kiss. Somehow, Alan managed to manoeuvre them both up two flights of stairs without their lips breaking contact.

  Once in the bedroom, clothes were removed at some speed whilst they continued to kiss passionately. Once they were undressed, Alan manoeuvred them on to the bed, with David on top, wrapping both arms and legs round him, as if to draw him in completely.

  Alan closed his eyes and sighed deeply at the sheer joy of the sensations he was experiencing – the warmth of another body, the touch of somebody else’s skin, the comfort of being held, the taste of David’s lips and tongue. They resumed their kissing, clinging on to each other like drowning men. Eventually Alan pulled away slightly, needing to breathe. “Oh, God, Davy, I’ve missed you so much.”

  David was momentarily nonplussed but suddenly realised that this explained so much about Alan’s welcome tonight. He was about to think that through when another kiss distracted him. This was followed by a whisper in his ear. “I want you to fuck me again tonight, Davy. Will you do that for me? I need to feel you inside me again.”

  Alan watched for David’s reaction and saw him shiver with anticipation. He lifted his head and looked Alan in the eye. “God, yes!” he replied. “I’ve dreamed of doing this again, ever since that day in your old room. But I’m still a bit scared of doing it wrong, of hurting you.”

  Alan tightened his grip and looked up at him. “You won’t hurt me, Davy. Promise.” He flipped them over so that he lay on top. “But this time I’m going to ride my sexy coach driver.”

  He saw David’s eyes widen with surprise and interest. “How does that work, then?”

  “Ah, you’ll see,” Alan replied with a grin.

  As on the first occasion, David prepared him carefully with his fingers, once more under Alan’s expert guidance. The preparation was punctuated by more kisses and stroking. Alan’s touch on David’s skin was feather-light at times, making him wriggle with pleasure and let out a small, growling sound.

  Alan laughed. “I’d swear, David Edgeley, that you were a cat in a previous life. You’re positively purring.”

  David gave a short giggle. “Yes, I do love to be stroked. Especially by big toms like you.”

  Matters became more serious again. After a few moments, Alan reached for the lube and readied both of them. He sat up and straddled David, reaching behind him to guide David’s cock into place. Alan leant backwards and bore downwards, allowing David to enter him and slide smoothly into place. He rested for a moment to allow his body to adjust, and felt a thrill as David let out an involuntary moan.

  “Oh, Al, that feels amazing. It’s so … so incredible. I never thought I could feel this good.”

  Alan began to move up and down, swivelling his hips at the same time. He closed his eyes to luxuriate in the sensations he was feeling, then leaned down for a kiss. As they broke apart, David opened his eyes and looked into Alan’s for a few moments. His friend’s pupils were blown and he seemed to be having difficulty focussing. He looked so sexy in that position.

  Alan sat up and began to move once more. The change in angle meant that David’s cock brushed his prostate, causing him to cry out with pleasure. He held the angle and received this intense burst of pleasure on each thrust. His orgasm started to build, helped along by David, who reached up, seized him and stroked in time with Alan’s movement.

  Their pace began to build and the room was filled with the noise of their cries. Alan’s orgasm hit and he shot all over David’s chest and stomach. At the same time, his involuntary spasm took David to the edge. As in Sedgethwaite a couple of weeks earlier, David’s whole body spasmed. He completely lost control as his limbs twitched and he yelled Alan’s name.

  After a few moments, Alan lifted himself off David carefully and dropped down onto the mattress next to him. They lay side by side, gasping to recover their breath.

  Alan turned on his side and drew David into an embrace and kissed him. As they broke the kiss, David let out a short laugh. “I didn’t think it could get any better than the first time but it just did.”

  “I know, Davy. That was … b
reath-taking.”

  “Thanks. For me too.”

  They lay still for a few minutes, needing to recover their equilibrium and to come to terms with the depth of feeling that their act of love had created.

  Chapter 19

  David

  Any lingering doubts that David might have had about what he and Alan were doing were swept away on the tide of emotion that welled up during and immediately after his orgasm. He now knew absolutely that he could not go back to his old life. He belonged here, and Alan was his. With that at the front of his mind, he reached over and kissed him once more.

  Alan might have been the more experienced of the two of them in the art of gay sex, but he would not have claimed to be the world’s greatest expert. In fact, if tonight was anything to go by, he had huge amounts more to learn and to practise. And the practice may as well begin here and now. He responded to David’s sweet kiss with a more passionate one of his own.

  But his own stomach chose that moment to grumble loudly, closely followed by David’s. It was time for food rather than sex. He broke away. “Come on, young Davy, it’s time we fed our faces.”

  However, they needed to shower first, so Alan headed for the bathroom, quickly followed by David. Sadly there was not enough room for them both in there together… Showered and dressed in loose clothing, Alan went to the kitchen and put the final touches to the dish he had prepared.

  ***

  “I could definitely get used to your cooking, Al. That was fantastic.”

  Alan had cooked a simple baked dish of pasta, gammon and leek in cheese sauce. The combination of flavours had David humming with pleasure – it was another new food experience that he thoroughly enjoyed. Once again, though, it brought into sharp relief the contrast between their lifestyles; Mona would not have dreamt of cooking gammon without chips and egg.

  “Where on earth did you learn to cook like this? As I recall, you couldn’t even boil an egg when we were teenagers.”