by Chris Cheek
Jennifer nodded. “Before you two did, I suspect. You were so close – and you fitted together like a hand in a glove. Much closer than brothers. You were almost like twins.” She gave a small smile. “Two sides of the same coin.”
“I was frightened, Jen. Staying here with Mum and Dad seemed easier. I enjoyed my job – you know how I’d always wanted to work on the buses. In any case, everything else seemed so scary. Especially being … well, you know.”
“And marrying Mona was part of the disguise?”
“Aye. Spot on. We’d always been pals right from junior school, and she seemed … a good option. Safe, you know? It was very selfish, I realise that. You’ve never liked her, have you?”
Jennifer thought for a moment. “Actually, I don’t think that’s true. She’s a very nice person and she’s a very good mother. She’s looked after you well enough, too. I couldn’t criticise her for any of that. It’s just that I never thought she was good enough for you. I know families often think that about the people their siblings marry, but this was different. When you were at school and close to Alan, you had such potential. There seemed to be so many possibilities in your life. And then I saw you run away from it all and settle for a boring job with a predictable and dull domestic life. I thought you’d do better than that – follow in my footsteps and go to college or even university. You were always the bright one at school. I couldn’t help feeling that Mona was wrapped up in that decision, so I ended up resenting her.”
“It wasn’t her fault.”
“No, I’ve always known that. And I used to get cross with you as well, but I suppose boys always expect to be in trouble with their big sister.”
“True. But – oh, Jen, what the hell am I going to do now?”
His sister looked at him with such kindness in her eyes. “Does he still call you Davy? Alan, I mean. Like he used to.”
David nodded, unable to speak, his eyes filling with tears. After a moment or two, he managed to find his voice. “I love him so much, sis, and I’m so frightened.”
Jennifer rounded the kitchen table and held her kid brother whilst he sobbed, releasing some of the emotional turmoil that had surrounded him for the last few weeks. Eventually, he calmed down and she was able to release him. “Nip upstairs and wash your face, love. You’ll feel better for it. It’ll get you calmed down before Mark gets home.”
As David disappeared upstairs, Mark came through the back door. “Was that David I saw disappearing upstairs?”
Jennifer nodded. “He’s a bit upset.”
“You were right, then? It is Alan?”
She beamed at her husband. “Aren’t I always?” Her expression became more serious as she said, “He needs our help, Mark.”
Her husband nodded. “I saw, through the window. I got home a few minutes ago but I waited till it had passed.”
“He’ll be better now.”
David entered the room at that point and hugged his brother-in-law. He looked and felt a great deal better, the only clue to his meltdown being some redness about the eyes. “Did she tell you?” David asked.
“She didn’t need to, David. I don’t spend most of my life dealing with people without learning a thing or two.”
“No, I suppose not.” David sighed. “I don’t suppose you know what I should do next, do you?”
“First of all, you need to know that we’ll support you whatever you decide,” Mark replied. “You’re Jen’s brother and we love you. All we want is for you to be happy and fulfilled.”
“Thanks. That means a lot. Alan said I should come and talk to you and Jen.”
“Did he now?” his sister said, a note of approval in her voice. “I always thought that lad had his head screwed on.” There was a pause then she asked, “Presumably you don’t want to stay with Mona?”
David shook his head. “Even if I was minded to, I don’t think it would be fair to her. She deserves better. But I couldn’t bear to leave the boys. If I went to London I could support them – but not to see them for months on end, to miss them growing up…” His voice started to tremble again.
“You’d need an agreement, David,” Mark said. “You’d never win a custody battle with Mona, especially if you were two hundred miles away and in a gay relationship. We’ve come a long way in the last twenty years but not that far.”
“Yeah, quite,” David replied. “I don’t know how she’d react… And more to the point I don’t know what her mother will say. She’s never liked me. I hate the thought of her bad-mouthing me to the boys and whoever else will listen for the next ten years.”
“I know it’s not very helpful,” Jen said, “but there’s only one way to find out.”
“You need to go away and think a bit more,” added Mark. “I should talk to Alan again. See what you both reckon. When are you seeing him again?”
“Friday night. We’re going to dinner with some friends of his.”
“Do give him our best,” his sister instructed. “And tell him to talk to me if he needs a shoulder to cry on. We could always give him a bed for a night or two, if it would help.”
Mark added, “I’ve only one thing to add, though. Don’t wait about too long. It doesn’t take much for word to leak out or rumours to start. If Mona or her family find out from gossip rather than hearing it from you, it might make matters a great deal worse.”
David nodded. “Yes, Mark, I agree,” he said. “And thanks, both of you.”
***
The discussion with his sister and her husband left David in a good mood for his trip to London on the Friday. He was looking forward to the dinner at Simon and Peter’s – another milestone on his road to the gay lifestyle.
He should have had plenty of time to get to Alan’s, even if the M1 was much busier than usual. To his annoyance, however, the traffic came to a grinding halt as he was approaching the services at Leicester Forest East.
“Bugger,” he muttered. “It would happen today of all days.”
Five minutes passed, extended to ten and then ten more. Nothing moved but several ambulances and police cars passed by on the hard shoulder, lights flashing and sirens blaring. You didn’t need to be much of a detective to work out that there had been an accident up ahead.
Getting moving again on their journey south would depend largely on whether the accident was after or before the next junction. If it was after, they would eventually be diverted off the motorway; if before, they were probably stuck until the police cleared the road. That could take hours.
David looked at his watch. Whatever happened, he was going to be late for the dinner party. Shit.
Suddenly, there was movement ahead. Brake lights illuminated as car engines were started and the traffic began to move again. David started his own engine once more and they moved off. Sure enough, the accident had occurred beyond the next junction and a diversion was in place. They had been stationery for half an hour; the slowness of the traffic, plus a diversion, would add at least another half hour to the journey – and that assumed that there were no hold-ups through central London to Victoria. That was a pretty big assumption on a Friday evening.
David had no means of warning Alan or Simon unless he stopped his coach to call or text them, which would not go down well with the punters. No, he would simply have to plough on and get in touch as soon as he could when he got to the bus station.
He reached there at seven-fifty, one and hour and twenty minutes behind schedule. At least Alan would probably not have gone downstairs yet, so he could convey David’s apology and give Simon a rough estimate of when he would arrive. He felt better now that he could get in touch.
Alan picked up on the second ring. David breathed a sigh of relief when he heard his voice and started to explain what had happened.
***
David raced across to the coach park and shut his vehicle down for the night in record time. He managed to get to Alan’s at eight forty-five. Although he needed to change out of his uniform and freshen up, there was time for neither
. However, he managed to be sitting in Simon and Peter’s flat before nine with a drink in hand. He felt thoroughly embarrassed about being late, and apologised at least three times before Simon swatted him on the back of the head and told him to shut up and relax.
Alan was sitting next to him on the sofa and reached an arm behind him to rub circles on his back. The tension started to drain away; David melted into his lover’s side, and gave him a whispered ‘hello’. There was little time for any conversation as Simon whisked the first course in and called them all to the table.
The evening went with a swing with everybody busily talking, gossiping and comparing notes – everybody, that is, except David.
His five companions might as well have been speaking in a foreign language because he barely understood one word in ten. They debated the merits of somebody called Baryshni-something against another Russian bloke … Nuritov or Nureyev. There was talk of plié, arabesque and jeté, and a whole host of other names were tossed round the table all in a sort of shorthand; the dialogue was almost impossible for the uninitiated to decipher. David heard talk of darling Sophie, Dame Marie, Madam, Darcy somebody, Anthony Dowell and so on. He had worked out that they must be talking about dance of some sort, possibly ballet, when the subject abruptly shifted.
He heard the word “conducting” at one stage, only to realise that they were now talking about music. Then it got even more cryptic as moved into what he could only think was some sort of code.
“What do you think of the Curzon K466, Si?” Andrew asked Simon.
“You mean the seventies one with Ben conducting?”
Andrew nodded. “Sublime or what?”
“I still love the Ashkenazy,” chipped in Peter. “Especially as the Curzon is coupled with K595 and Brendel is the only person I can bear to hear playing that.”
David looked from one to the other, completely baffled. He caught Alan’s eye and rolled his eyes. Alan winked, but quickly got involved as well. “I’m afraid I’m simply addicted to the music. I’m no expert. I only discovered Mozart’s piano concertos a couple of years ago, thanks to my friend Tris. I don’t much care who’s playing them – but I can’t imagine my life without them.”
David smiled again at Alan and offered him a silent prayer of thanks. At least he now knew what they were talking about, even if he still didn’t understand any of the words.
Soon they were off again – the new code was full of what seemed to be Italian words – Cosi, Kiri, Nozze, Barbera, Soave, some song called Non Pew Andrew – though he did dimly recognised the tune when somebody began to hum it. He laughed when Simon asked the company what their favourite Mozart opera was, and everybody chorused “the last one we saw”.
Aha. Another code broken.
Throughout it all David watched the other guests, fascinated by the sharp turns in the conversation and amazed by their knowledge and enthusiasm. Alan’s friends were kind and warm towards him, whilst Alan kept catching his eye, trying to offer reassurance.
If asked, though, he would have said that he was very far from coping. As the evening wore on, he came to realise the breadth and depth of his ignorance. He would be totally unsuited to a life in London; he would only hold Alan back and show him up in front of his friends. He was too thick to learn about such stuff – and not particularly interested, either. Better by far to put all this aside and stick to Sedgethwaite. Simpler, too. No complications with Mona, and he’d see his boys growing up.
The conversation took another baffling turn into a new production at the National. David wondered at first whether they were talking about the Leyland National – a type of bus he remembered from school days – but he caught the word Shakespeare, so assumed not. He looked pleadingly at Alan, who quickly responded.
“Sorry to break the party up, guys,” he interrupted. “But young David here has to work for his living tomorrow and drive that big butch coach back to Yorkshire, so I’d better ensure that he gets his beauty sleep.”
“If he needs all his strength tomorrow,” Simon replied with a smirk, “you’d better make sure he gets all his oats tonight.”
David felt himself blushing but Alan simply laughed. “Don’t worry, Simon, I fully intend to.”
They said their goodnights and David reserved a special hug for Simon. “It was a great evening. I’m only sorry that I was so late.”
“Don’t worry about that, sweetheart,” Simon said out loud, before dropping his voice to a whisper. “And well done. You coped amazingly well with us prissy queens tonight. Now go and look after your man.”
When they got past the front door of Alan’s flat, David found himself in Alan’s arms, being soundly kissed.
“God, I’ve been waiting to do that all night,” Alan said into his ear, his breath sending shivers down David’s spine. “You looked so sexy when you arrived in your uniform, all flushed and tousled.”
David relaxed into Alan’s embrace and they stood for a few moments, foreheads together.
“I was very embarrassed to be that late,” David said after a while. “What a start to my first-ever dinner party, eh? Simon was very good about it, but I bet he and Peter could have murdered me.”
“Hey, don’t be daft! Things like that happen all the time in London. Everybody was very sympathetic.”
“Anyway, I don’t suppose they’ll ask me again. I must have seemed right gormless tonight. They might as well have been speaking Swahili for most of the night. It made me realise that I know fuck-all about anything.”
“Not true, Davy. Granted, you might not know much about ballet or opera, but you read a lot and you’re as sharp as a needle – always have been. And you loved my Mozart last week so you can’t be all bad,” Alan finished with a grin.
David shook his head, unappeased. “I don’t know, Al. It seemed … completely alien. I’m not sure I could ever belong in this world.”
“You’ll always belong with me, though, whatever happens – and if we don’t like their world, we’ll create our own, like we did before at school. Al and Davy against the world, remember?”
David nodded but beneath the surface he remained uncertain and frightened. He wished he hadn’t been quite as definite about the future with his sister and her husband the other day.
Alan spoke again. “Come on, let’s have a nightcap and listen to some more Mozart – maybe you’ll start to understand how bloody wonderful he is.” He reached for David’s hand and hauled him up the stairs to the sitting room, pausing on the way to sneak a couple of quick kisses.
Chapter 24
Alan
“I can’t imagine not ever knowing about this music,” Alan said dreamily. They had finished their nightcaps and lay entwined on Alan’s sofa.
“It certainly is very beautiful. How did you come to learn about it?” David asked. “You weren’t exactly an expert when you left Sedgethwaite.”
“That’s certainly true,” Alan replied with a laugh. “The short answer is my ex-boyfriend.”
“Oh, so you’ve had another boyfriend, have you?” David responded with mock indignation.
“Several, actually,” Alan grinned, before adding, “but none to match my Davy.” His face changed and he grew serious. “Not several, to tell the truth. Two short flings and one longish relationship – hardly a lot in six years.”
“Tell me more.”
“Tristan was the important one. We met when I was nineteen. He was two years older. He’d recently graduated from Oxford and inherited an absolute fortune from his aunt. We moved in together a few weeks later and it lasted three years in all. He changed my life.” There was a pause before Alan gave a short laugh. “We still stay in touch and I’ve told him all about you. He wants to meet you soon.”
“Christ, Al! That sounds a bit difficult.”
“Trust me, it won’t be. The thing that kept Tris and I together for so long was friendship, not love. Oh, true, we had some fun in bed, particularly in the very early days – but the chemistry was never really
there for either of us. After a while, we both came to realise that we weren’t the one for each other. Some day one of us would meet our life partner and when that happened we would split up. It happened for Tris two years ago; he’s now with Ian, and they’re both totally in love – honestly, it’s wonderful to see, Davy. They were absolutely meant for each other.”
David squeezed Alan’s shoulder. “Do you still miss him though?”
Alan nodded. “Sometimes – especially before you came back into my life. But I mustn’t complain. The three years I spent with him were such fun, and he opened my mind in ways I could not have believed possible. He took me to the theatre, to the opera, to concerts and to some amazing restaurants. Finally, Tris’s farewell gift to me was the deposit on this flat.”
“Al, you’re kidding!”
“No. It was the only thing we ever fought over because I wouldn’t accept the gift at first, but he was adamant. I’d given him three fantastic years, he said, and but for me he’d never have met Ian. That was true because Ian and I worked in the same office. We still do. In the end, I could only accept.”
“Wow. Some friend.”
“Yes, he is. But, you know, his greatest gift to me wasn’t the money. It was the way he opened my mind to a new lifestyle, to music, books and plays and ballets and operas – a whole world of culture that I hadn’t known existed before I met him. And it has enriched my life so much, Davy. That’s why I believe that we can do the same for you. I love you and I want to offer you the gift that Tris gave me.”
“Bloody hell, Al. I … er … don’t know what to say. I’m amazed. We hadn’t really talked about your life down here after you left home. No wonder you’ve changed so much.”
As if on cue, the music changed and another slow movement started. The tune captivated David; he felt his body relax. Alan watched as his face softened. They remained silent in each other’s arms for the whole of the movement.
When it ended, Alan saw the tears in David’s eyes and kissed them away. “That’s the K467 that Simon thinks is so sublime,” he said.
“It’s marvellous. The tune is very beautiful. But what is it? What does K467 mean?”
