by Clare London
“We both say that,” said Trev, appearing suddenly behind Simon. “If you want.”
If I want? A proper kitchen, proper supplies and equipment, proper bakers to help him improve, to share his inspiration with? Donnie felt his smile almost split his face. Followed almost immediately with the jagged pain of disappointment as the sound of his other friends arguing away came back into focus.
“I can’t think of anything I’d like more! But it’s not going to happen, is it? I haven’t got time for that. I can’t juggle it all! Will’s in hospital and his surgery’s locked up for who knows how long, but people are still calling for appointments. Eric needs help with the accounts, especially as Will’s thinking of taking on another business. Will wants me to take on running them both, but I don’t know if I want to, and I don’t know how to explain that to him.” Somewhere in the back of his consciousness he realised everyone else had fallen quiet, but he couldn’t seem to stop now. “Maisie and Henry need help with the fundraising, but they won’t stop arguing about it all, and thank God Jez has offered to help with the new house, but I don’t know how we’re going to get it all done with so few pairs of hands. And…” His vision was blurred, his head was thumping like he had an oncoming migraine. “And I’m still not sure I didn’t poison Will in the first place!”
There was a moment when no one spoke, when all Donnie could hear was the hum of traffic on the road and the beep of the crossing outside the supermarket, and a dog barking cheerfully over on the green. It was probably that terrier, after a ball again.
And then the babble of voices broke out again around him.
“Donnie, don’t be daft!”
“You’re misunderstanding the whole thing—”
“I’ll come back later, if you can say when—”
“With everyone shouting, I can’t hear myself talk—”
“Just take a look at this—”
“I only need you to—”
“You’ve always helped before—”
And then…
“Look at Donnie!”
“What’s the matter with him?”
Donnie sank slowly, limply to the pavement outside the surgery, his head in his hands. And shut his eyes and ears against it all.
CHAPTER 21
“Shut the hell up! All of you!” Trevor roared above the racket. The resulting silence was sudden and astonishingly obedient.
“Donnie?” Simon crouched down beside him. His voice had gentled.
“He’s crying,” said Maisie. “Oh God, was it because of me?” She sounded devastated.
Simon put a hand on Donnie’s shoulder. His palm was warm and firm. Like Will’s was. Donnie didn’t know why his cheeks felt wet. He needed to get to the hospital. Where were his car keys?
“Look, love,” Simon murmured. “This isn’t your fault. This is a full-scale attack on you, and I’m amazed you’ve kept it at bay as long as you have. You are juggling, Donnie, and coping fucking well. But no one could be expected to manage all the shit people are throwing at you all the time.”
“They need help,” Donnie whispered. The problem was, it felt like everyone did. All at once.
“And what about you? Don’t you need help?”
Then, before Donnie could protest, Simon pulled himself up and faced the ring of wide, shocked eyes that surrounded Donnie. “Okay, you wankers! Back off. And try thinking of some constructive ways to get your damn projects done that don’t involve this poor sod carrying the whole fucking thing on his shoulders!”
“Si?” Trev put a hand on Simon’s arm. “You might want to keep the volume down, mate. There are still school kids passing through.”
Simon scowled at everyone whose gaze he could catch, but he did scale down his shouting. “You’re all bloody adults, right? You all hold down a job, can feed yourselves, can wipe your own arses.”
Behind him, there was a chuckle. It may have been Eric, probably thinking of another inappropriate joke.
“So.” Simon took a long, heartfelt sigh. “You can pull your weight around here. Right?”
There was a small, contrite mumble of “Right”, “Yes”, “Sorry” from the others. Maisie gave a little sob.
Trev crouched down this time beside Donnie. “Over to you, kid.”
“S-sorry?”
“Tell ’em what you need done. You’re in charge Donnie—but that doesn’t mean you have to do it all yourself. Remember what I said? What’s in your way?”
Donnie stared at everyone gazing down at him. He swallowed hard, trying to find enough moisture in his mouth to frame the words. “I need to get to the hospital to see Will. That’s the most important thing to me right now.”
“Do you need a lift? Someone with you?” Trev asked, more gently.
“No. I can cope with that.” Donnie gave a sad little smile. “But I—we both—have made a bit of a mess of things at the moment, so I want to put things back on the right path. That’s going to take my time for the moment.”
“And that’s fine,” Trev said.
Donnie turned to Eric. “I’m not really the right person to help with the finances. I understand what a cashflow forecast is, but it’s Will’s business, and I don’t know enough to make a proper evaluation.”
“It’ll wait,” came Jez’s voice. “It’s no problem.”
Eric glanced at Jez, blinked, and his frown cleared. “No problem. It’ll wait. Yes.”
“Maisie?”
“Yes, Donnie?”
“I’m happy to go through your plans, just like I usually do, but not today.”
“No, Donnie.”
“I want you to talk to Henry about his plans, and maybe you can pull them together into one sensible schedule that you can work on together.”
Maisie grimaced at Henry, who grimaced back. Then they grudgingly nodded at each other.
“I do like the idea of the art club,” Maisie said in a chastened voice.
“And I don’t know what we’d do without the bake sales,” Henry admitted. “People always want to buy cake. Especially if Donnie will bake for us—”
“Only if he has time,” Maisie broke in swiftly.
“He will have,” Simon announced. “But only on his terms. He’s gonna work with us in the bakery, a couple of evenings a week, and we’ll make a proper work schedule that gives him time for his own projects. We’ll be happy to contribute, too.”
“Donnie?” It was Jez again. “I reckon there are plenty of helping hands at Handfast. I’ll work out a rota for when Rick needs help with renovations. Seems to me there are a lot of guys would welcome something to do in their spare time. Especially on another house like theirs.”
“Ours,” Eric corrected quietly, but it was probably only meant for Jez’s ears.
“And something else.” Jez shifted awkwardly. Maybe he wasn’t used to all the attention on him. “Just thought I’d tell you. The kids at the community centre? I take them for a sports session now and then. They asked when you were bringing some of the wonky cakes in again.”
“That’s really insulting—” Maisie started.
“No,” Jez interrupted gently. “They’re special to the kids. Last I heard, they were fighting over which one to get, guessing the flavours. Photographing them before they ate them. Making up sets. Swapping pictures between themselves. I suspect there’s an Instagram account for your cakes.” He grinned, maybe not aware that Eric’s gaze was fixed on him, rapt.
“I’ll be there soon with another batch,” Donnie said. His throat felt too tight.
“They’ll like that,” Jez said. “They’re small kids, you see. Their goals are small, their delights are small. But very special to them.”
“And now all that’s done… Coffee and cake, anyone?” Trev announced in a very satisfied tone.
Maisie and Henry walked with Donnie to his car. It felt a bit like a guard of honour. Or maybe they thought he’d collapse, too, and they needed to hold him steady.
“I’ll get back in the loop wh
en Will’s better,” he said. “You know I want to be on the committee, right? I want to help, I really do. I just… have other things going on.”
“Of course.” Maisie gave him a little hug, though gingerly as if he might break.
“Donnie?” Henry looked really miserable. “I’m sorry all my best intentions to be good to you…”
“Went to shit,” Maisie finished for him. “Mine, too.”
“Especially after what Will said,” Henry added.
What? Had Will been talking about him?
“Take that look off your face.” Henry frowned at him. “Will hasn’t been gossiping. I overheard him on the phone to his mother, I think it was. He was saying how he’d met a new man and was really happy to be with him.”
“And how this new man—” Maisie’s eyes were filling up again. “—was so damn good for Will, and pure gold at helping him out.”
“And also how he’d brought light into Will’s life.” Henry had a very soppy expression that Donnie didn’t think he’d ever seen before. “Light and comfort and passion. And that was something Will had been unprepared for. That accepting a partner was something he’d had to make adjustments for.”
“He was trying his best to be worthy of it.” Maisie was definitely crying now, though she was trying to hide it as something in her eye.
“He was so worried he would lose you,” Henry said. “Just from being a stupid, inexperienced, repressed twat.”
“Henry!”
“Okay, so he didn’t actually say that. Will is much more articulate and better mannered. I may have been channelling Maisie’s language.”
Maisie, not very maturely, stuck out her tongue at him.
Brought light into Will’s life.
Oh.
“That’s what you do, Donnie.” Maisie hugged him again, though now it felt like she was the one who needed the support. “You bring delight to us all. You support everyone, without a second thought.”
“It’s made Maisie and I rethink our behaviour towards you,” Henry said.
“We’ve been doing some soul searching recently,” Maisie added quietly.
“I didn’t ask you—” Donnie began weakly.
“You shouldn’t need to,” Henry said briskly. “But, to be honest, it looks like we still need to work on it.”
Maisie scowled at him, nodded, then—shockingly!—gave him a very brief hug. Then she pushed Donnie gently towards his car. “You keep us going, kid, you’re the oil to our wheels. You don’t judge us, you just do what’s needed.”
“Thanks. Both of you.” Donnie was still a bit stunned. When Henry opened the car door for him like a kind of chauffeur, Donnie smiled again at last. Henry leaned in just before he closed the door again.
“We want that to be what you need as well, Donnie.”
CHAPTER 22
Will had been waiting all day to see Donnie. Oh, he’d had plenty of visitors—who knew he’d made so many friends in the few weeks he’d been working at the surgery?—but there was only one person he really wanted to see. Even then, he was swamped with relief when he saw Donnie striding purposefully across the ward at visiting time. For a moment there, he’d wondered if Donnie would come at all.
“Thanks for visiting me. You don’t need to. It’s not as if I’m in intensive care.”
“Of course I need to. I will until you’re discharged. We’re dating, remember?”
Oh, thank God. “I… wasn’t sure.”
Donnie frowned, but Will rushed on, “I can leave tomorrow morning after doctor’s rounds. They want one more night of observation because I live alone and don’t have someone who’ll check in on me.”
“You have me,” Donnie said softly. “I can come and look after you. Unless you don’t want me at your place? When I last asked…”
Will’s heart jumped like a gazelle: he didn’t know why alarms didn’t go off in the ward. “Oh my God, I never meant you to think you were unwelcome.” In all honesty, his own apartment felt less like home than Donnie’s flat. He hadn’t found the words to explain all that, not yet. But he would, and soon. “I don’t know what to say. I would love that. If you would consider it.”
“One thing you must be honest about.” Donnie was still frowning. “You sure it wasn’t something you ate? My curries can be pretty spicy. I’ve never managed to hold back on the chillies.”
“For God’s sake! Donnie, absolutely nothing about this is your fault.”
Donnie blinked hard. Maybe Will’s tone had been a little too strong for the busy ward. The staff nurse at the door had raised his head from his notes, and the trainee nurse helping another patient to the toilet looked over and winked over at Donnie.
Here goes. “It’s my fault. Entirely my problem. I have a confession.”
“Are you ill? Broke? Married?” Donnie grinned a little nervously.
“No, no, and no. But…” He took a deep breath. Time to face the music. “I have diverticulitis.”
“What?” Donnie looked alarmed now.
“It’s not life-threatening. It’s an inflammation in the intestine. I’ve had it before, and the doctors said I might get it again. Yes, spicy food is often a bad idea, but double helpings are entirely my fault. Plus, there were nuts in the meal at the restaurant—nuts and seeds have been triggers for me in the past. I ignored the early pains as indigestion.”
“Why would you do that? We could have asked for no nuts. Another dish. Why on earth—?”
“I didn’t want to tell you,” Will said wretchedly. “I thought it might never flare up again. Classic symptoms of denial, I suppose. I wanted to pretend I’m as fit and healthy as someone much younger. Dammit!” He was blushing now, couldn’t hold it back. “Someone younger like you.”
Donnie shook his head wearily. “If you’d said you were in any kind of real discomfort—”
“I know, I was… I was embarrassed. Vain.” God, this was mortifying! But didn’t Donnie deserve to know what kind of man he was getting close to? “I didn’t want you to think I was an old man, I suppose.”
“An old man?” Donnie looked as if he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.
“It can happen more regularly as you get older. All sorts of intestinal things can. And last time it happened, they were worried I might develop an abscess.”
“That sounds more serious.”
“Yes. But this time it’s…”
“Fine?”
Was Donnie teasing him? “It’s clearing up nicely with antibiotics. No danger of anything worse.”
“Will?” Donnie ran his palm slowly, caressingly, up Will’s arm. Every little hair along its path lifted and sighed in pleasure. “You’re not a pensioner yet, you know.”
Yes, that was teasing! “For God’s sake—”
“And I’d still want you, even if you were,” Donnie whispered.
There was a moment of golden silence, when Will felt tears threaten at the back of his eyes. “You would?”
“Stop fishing for compliments,” Donnie said with a return of his grin. “My sexy silver fox.”
Will wondered if he kissed Donnie, would the great might of the NHS come raging down on him? “In the continuing spirit of confession, I should tell you I was genuinely scared when the pain first hit. It’s crippling. I think I must have blacked out. That’s when I fell over the bloody dustbin and hurt myself.”
Donnie’s eyes were wide. “Will, did you think you were gonna die?”
“Shut up.” But maybe he had. It had been early morning, no one around, and he’d been brought double with the sudden pain in his belly. He’d thrown up, his vision was blurred, and everything hurt to touch. Stumbling towards the exit onto the street, he’d felt his knees buckle and his head swim, and he’d given one single, anguished cry. That was all he remembered. Thank God that attractive guy from the bar had found him and called 999.
Donnie took his hand. From the look on his face, Will thought he might have taken him in his arms, if they weren’t in a crowded wa
rd. He couldn’t get out of here fast enough so that could happen.
“I wouldn’t let you die, you idiot.”
Will actually believed him. He’d never known such a swell of joy. “I’ve been an idiot about lots of things—an arrogant one—all along.”
“But it’s okay now,” Donnie soothed him. “You’re okay. Everything’s fi—”
“Shut up!” Will said again, louder this time, then flushed.
“Mr Cartwright?” The nurse paused at the end of Will’s bed. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes. Of course,” Will saw the nurse glance at Donnie then back to Will. “I’m trying to apologise to my boyfriend, but he keeps making excuses for me.”
The nurse smiled. His eyes crinkled nicely at the corners when he did. “I’ll leave you to it then. Those things deserve proper attention.”
Will nodded as the man trotted over to help someone in the opposite bed. “He said it.”
“Said what? You were shouting, Will.”
“He said those things deserve proper attention. I’ve had time to think while I’ve been stuck in here. How much I enjoy being with you. But how poorly I’ve treated you.”
“It’s been that kind of day,” Donnie said oddly. He looked both flushed and a little confused. “And I wouldn’t exactly say that. You gave me a job, you let me loose on your filing system. And there are other things.” Donnie glanced quickly around the room, a twinkle in his eyes, and then lowered his voice to a stage whisper. “I haven’t come that hard from a fuck for ages.”
Will wondered how quickly he could reach the side table and pull it over his suddenly swelling crotch. “But Donnie, the very thing I treasured about you, your kindness, your tolerance, your desire to help. That’s the very thing I took advantage of. Just like everyone else seems to do.”
“Well, I don’t think anyone notices me that much.”
“That’s bullshit.” Will really liked the flush that blossomed on Donnie’s bemused face. It looked good enough to warm his hands on. “Everyone does. We all need to let you know, that’s all.” He peered more closely at Donnie’s flush, that he’d thought was embarrassment. “There’s a glow about you today. What’s been going on?”
