A Time for Friends

by Patricia Scanlan

  Hilary had to run to catch a DART just before it pulled out of the station and she sank into the seat breathless, relieved that she hadn’t missed it and wasted even more time on Sue. Her sister-in-law was probably taking deep angry drags on a cigarette somewhere, fuming at what had been said to her. Tough, it had been a long time coming. Too long. Hilary scowled as the train pulled out of Pearse.

  ‘Sue phoned me. She was most upset at what you said to her. Did you have to start a row?’ Niall demanded down the phone a little while later as the train crossed the Liffey into Connolly.

  ‘I didn’t start any row. She’s upset because she has to get her skinny ass in gear and take some responsibility for her mother, Niall,’ Hilary hissed indignantly. ‘She’s got away with it for years because I was there doing what she should have been doing. So tough if she’s upset. She’s a grown woman. It shouldn’t be up to me to have to tell her how to behave. And if I may say so, it’s only because you didn’t have the guts to do it that I had to, so don’t give me a hard time about this, Niall, because I’m not taking it. Niall, you need to cop on a bit and start backing me up on this. I take responsibility for looking after my parents; you and Sue need to start taking more responsibility for your mother. Bye!’

  She hung up and stared unseeingly out of the window as a flood of passengers boarded at the station. Her husband had some nerve ringing her because Sue had gone whinging to him obviously. Well it was time the two of them got used to the idea that she wasn’t going to be a pushover any more. A doormat she was no longer prepared to be and if they didn’t like it they could both lump it.

  Millie and Sophie were going to the pictures with their cousins and having a pizza beforehand. Hilary had planned on cooking steak, onions and mash for herself and Niall. And she had decided to take the opportunity to discuss her reasons for taking the duvet day with him, and sort their issues once and for all, but as she drove home from work, tired and irritable and still simmering with resentment at her husband’s high-handed attitude, she decided she was damned if she was cooking and took a detour to McDonald’s. She ate her Big Mac and fries in a drive-through bay, and finished her meal off with a McFlurry ice cream and apple pie. She licked her fingers and shoved the cartons into the paper bag they had been served in and turned on the ignition. She was going to buy Hello! and pour herself a glass of wine and flop on the sofa and Niall could look after himself, she thought grimly, reversing out of her parking space.

  ‘Where’s dinner?’ Niall asked grumpily an hour later, surprised at finding Hilary lying on the sofa flicking through a magazine, a big glass of red at her side and not a sign of a meal being prepared.

  ‘I’ve had mine earlier. I got a McDonald’s. There’s steak in the fridge if you want it or order in, whatever you prefer.’ Hilary didn’t lower her magazine.

  ‘Well thanks for telling me you weren’t cooking. I could have got something at work,’ he said indignantly.

  ‘It was a spur of the moment decision. I wasn’t in the humour for cooking,’ she retorted.

  ‘No, be honest about it, you’re just pissed off at me and you’re getting your own back, that’s what’s going on,’ Niall scowled.

  ‘That too,’ Hilary said coolly.

  ‘Well that’s childish in the extreme.’

  ‘You can look at it like that if you want to, Niall. I’m just taking a night off and putting myself first for a change.’ Hilary took a sip of her Shiraz.

  ‘You’re good at that,’ he said nastily.

  ‘I am not!’ Hilary retorted indignantly, sitting bolt upright. ‘You go and frig off for yourself! You’re the one that’s good at putting yourself first! I never say anything to you about the nights you’re off out playing music. And I’ve been very good to Margaret. And I do most of the running around after the girls. So don’t give me that crap.’

  ‘And do I say anything about the time you spend with Jonathan? And all the jaunts you go on with him that aren’t work?’ Niall demanded.

  ‘Now you’re being childish,’ she retorted.

  ‘No I’m not. You spend more time with him than you do with me.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she snapped.

  ‘Well you do. It’s Jonathan this and Jonathan that,’ he said sulkily.

  ‘Yeah well if I do, and I dispute that, at least Jonathan doesn’t treat me like Wee Slavey and he looks out for me.’ Hilary glared at him.

  ‘Oh shut up, Hilary, I’ve enough going on at work without coming home to this. I’m off to have a pint and a meal in peace and quiet.’ Niall grabbed his car keys.

  ‘Great, I’ll get some peace. And I might even give Jonathan a ring,’ Hilary said childishly, flopping back down against the cushions and picking up her magazine.

  She heard the front door slam and exhaled. She was glad the girls hadn’t witnessed their little spat. She and Niall were sniping at each other a lot recently. Hopefully he’d take on board what she’d said about Sue taking more responsibility for Margaret, and things would settle back down again.

  Niall did have a point about Jonathan, she admitted grudgingly. She did spend a lot of time with him. Just as well her best friend was gay – Niall might even accuse her of having an affair. But that was the perfect thing about her friendship with Jonathan; there were no issues like that to deal with.

  Let her husband cool down over his pint and pub dinner; Jonathan was right about the way she let her family treat her. She was too easy-going and people took advantage of that. He’d be pleased that she’d stood up for herself, finally, and what was even better was the fact that she didn’t care any more if Sue was annoyed with her. She wasn’t going to get an ulcer worrying that the other woman might never talk to her again. That would be a plus, she thought defiantly, amused at her newfound bolshiness. She hoped it would last.

  And if she was changing so was Jonathan, she reflected. She was impressed by how he was handling his new relationship. He wasn’t throwing himself in headlong. He wasn’t giving everything and expecting little in return. He was playing it cool and letting Leon do the running. She would give anything to see her much-loved friend with the man of his dreams. Perhaps at last it was going to happen and not before time.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  ‘Are you sure I can’t drive you to the airport?’ Hilary offered as she neatly folded a set of plans they had been working on and placed them in the large green folder on her desk.

  ‘Not at all, Hil. Go home and spend time with the girls. You said you were going to.’ Jonathan scrolled down through his phone for the number of the taxi firm he used. He gave them the address and glanced at his watch. ‘I’ve loads of time before check-in. I’ll have a coffee and a mosey around while I’m waiting for Leon, and get myself in holiday mode.’ He and Leon were going to London for a short post-Easter break that had been arranged on the spur of the moment. He still couldn’t quite believe that it was happening.

  ‘Are you excited?’ Hilary asked him fondly, delighted that his new relationship was progressing so well.

  ‘Yeah! And a bit nervous. I really think this is it, Hilary. At long, long last I think I’m going about it the right way, taking things slowly and really enjoying being friends first. We get on very well. We’ve got so much in common. He’s fun to be with and I fancy the pants off him. Tonight’s gonna be the night.’

  ‘I hope you’re staying somewhere nice.’ Hilary sat back in her chair and stifled a yawn.

  ‘He wanted us to book a Jurys Inn, but I wanted somewhere a little bit more special, so we’re taking cheap flights, and I’m paying for the hotel. That’s why we’re flying Ryanair,’ he grimaced. ‘Imagine having to stand queuing, and then being told the gate has changed and then that mad gallop to get seats when you’re boarding. Only for love, I tell you, only for lurv!’ he declaimed, throwing his hands wide in a Shakespearean gesture.

  Hilary laughed at his theatrics. ‘So where are you staying?’

  ‘The Franklin.’ He sat down on the edge of her
desk. ‘It’s a lovely, quirky, five-star townhouse hotel just off the Brompton Road. I love it. The rooms are fab, all designed very differently to suit their size and shape and orientation. I get great ideas when I’m there. It’s got an honesty bar and a pretty little garden. And Knightsbridge is just a stone’s throw away. Harvey Nicks, Harrods, the V&A across the road – what more could you want? And I just can’t wait to show the Brompton Oratory to Leon, he’ll adore it. You know all that over-the-top High Renaissance Baroque-style architecture, and the stunning murals and paintings. Fabuloussss!!’ Jonathan was giddy with excitement.

  ‘Sounds amazing. You’re going to have a brilliant time and you deserve it.’ Hilary jumped to her feet and gave him a tight hug.

  ‘Well it’s only for three days. It was all he could get off, but it’s fine because it’s our first time away together.’

  ‘London is perfect for a short getaway; I used to love visiting Colette before both of us got married. Haven’t been in ages. I might suggest a trip to Niall sometime.’

  ‘You should. You could do with a romantic break away. I can’t believe I’m going on a romantic break. I have butterflies in my stomach,’ he confessed.

  ‘You’ll be grand when you meet up with Leon. Look, here’s your taxi. Have a ball, Harpur!’

  ‘Will do, Hammond!’ Jonathan gave her a last hug, draped his scarf around his neck, grabbed his case and carry-on bag and sashayed out the door to the waiting taxi. Hilary laughed and waved, delighted that her best friend was so happy and carefree.

  Jonathan sat in the back of the taxi and checked to make sure he had his passport, sterling and mobile phone charger in his Italian-leather shoulder bag. Even though he had double-checked everything before he left his apartment he just wanted to make absolutely sure. He had left his passport behind once on a trip to Barcelona and had only discovered it was missing at check-in. He was always extra careful after that expensive little episode.

  He couldn’t quite believe that he and Leon were going to London. And, even better, at Leon’s suggestion. They had been out for a drink on the Wednesday before Easter and Leon had asked him what he was doing for the bank holiday weekend. As it happened, Nancy was coming to stay with him on Good Friday until Easter Sunday. They had a tradition in the last few years of Jonathan taking his mother to all the Easter Ceremonies in the Pro-Cathedral, culminating in the sung Midnight Mass. Although he wasn’t religious, Jonathan loved the heart-soaring poignancy of the famous Palestrina Choir, as did Nancy.

  ‘I have the week after Easter off – what would you think of hopping over to London for a few days?’ Leon had suggested.

  ‘I’d love it,’ Jonathan had agreed enthusiastically, secretly delighted that it was Leon who was proposing the trip. As they had got to know each other over the past couple of months he had allowed himself to fantasize about having a future with the easy-going, fun-loving carpenter with whom he got on so well. They had snogged but not taken it any further and Jonathan, who was a romantic at heart, felt that Leon wanted their first real intimacy to be something special. Clearly the trip to London was going to be the next step in their relationship and he couldn’t wait.

  They hugged at the airport when they met up half an hour later. ‘Nice threads, Jon,’ Leon admired, running his hand over the arm of the jade, single-breasted deconstructed jacket. ‘You can’t go wrong with Armani. You’ll score in that for sure!’ he grinned.

  ‘Ya think?’ Jonathan said flirtily.

  ‘I know! I can’t wait to hit the clubs!’

  ‘We’ve so much to fit in.’ Jonathan fell into step beside him as they made their way to the Ryanair check-in desks. ‘I’ve booked us a table for dinner tonight, at Bibendum. You know, the Terence Conran restaurant? It’s so near our hotel we can walk to it. The Michelin Building’s just eye-poppingly fab, wait until you see it, and we can have a wander around Habitat too! We can have a pre-dinner drink in the Oyster Bar there. It’s epic! It’s real art deco. And you’ll love the Franklin too. I booked a double. You’re sure you’re OK with that?’ Jonathan wanted to reassure himself that he and Leon were thinking along the same lines.

  ‘Yeah, cool. We’ll hardly be there anyway. We’ve places to go and people to see, and only three days to pack it all in,’ Leon grinned.

  ‘There’s nothing to stop us going over again later in the year,’ Jonathan remarked, pushing his case ahead of him with his foot as they moved along in the queue.

  ‘Now you’re talking! We could go to Barcelona too, that’s such a great city for gays.’

  ‘For anyone, gay or straight!’ Jonathan remarked lightly, trying not to be irritated that Leon frequently defined himself by his sexuality. ‘We could do a long weekend to the Big Apple sometime, even, and visit MoMA and the Met.’

  ‘That would be a dream come true. I’d love to go to New York.’ Leon’s hazel eyes lit up, and Jonathan thought how beautiful they were and how handsome his companion was with his jet-black hair and tanned, rugged face.

  ‘We can definitely do that too then,’ Jonathan declared, thinking that he couldn’t wait to visit all these cities that he loved with Leon at his side.

  ‘Hmm, don’t forget I’m not as free as you are. Billy’s maintenance takes a whopping chunk out of my salary. Not that I mind,’ Leon added hastily. ‘My son is worth every penny.’

  ‘Don’t worry, we’ll make it happen in time,’ Jonathan assured him as they reached the top of the queue and he lifted his case onto the belt and presented his passport and flight confirmation to the girl at the desk. They had agreed to check in one piece of luggage between them to accommodate the shopping they proposed doing on their trip, as both of them intended to beef up their wardrobes with a shopping expedition to the King’s Road.

  Two hours later as they circled Stansted on their landing approach, Jonathan stared out at the verdant countryside beneath him and felt happier than he could remember feeling in a long, long time. The years of loneliness seemed a distant memory. The vague sadness that had been his burden for so long had been vanquished. Now he was starting a new chapter in his life. One where he was companioned as he’d always longed to be. Nancy’s prayers had been answered. His mother had said goodbye to him on Easter Sunday with the fervent instruction, ‘Have a wonderful trip with your friend and be very, very happy.’

  It would be no hardship to follow Nancy’s instructions, he thought, as Leon caught his gaze and said cheerily as the landing gear clunked down with a thud, ‘London, are you ready for us? The boys are back in town!’

  ‘That steak was to die for! That will set me up until dinner tomorrow night!’ Leon patted his lean stomach, took a drink of his Châteauneuf-du-Pape and leaned back in the red bucket chair, enjoying the hum of chatter and laughter in the busy restaurant. He had gone for one of the restaurant’s signature dishes, the steak au poivre. Jonathan had chosen the scallops that had oozed flavour.

  ‘Could you manage a dessert?’ Jonathan perused the menu.

  ‘Could we share? I need to keep some energy for later!’ Leon winked.

  Jonathan laughed. ‘Aahh we need a sugar rush,’ he encouraged. ‘What do you want? You choose.’

  ‘Oooh it’s hard to pick.’ Leon studied the selection. ‘OK, how about the honey blancmange with champagne-poached rhubarb and pistachio madeleines?’

  ‘Perfect! And let’s push out the boat and have a postprandial brandy, seeing as we are in a posh restaurant. Don’t forget this meal’s on me,’ Jonathan reminded him lightly, not wanting Leon to be worrying about money.

  ‘You certainly don’t do things by halves, Jon. That hotel is something else. I’ve never stayed in a five-star before. And this place has been a real fine-dining experience.’ Leon looked around at the iconic building with admiration.

  ‘It’s our first visit to London. I wanted it to be special.’ Jonathan was about to reach over and squeeze Leon’s hand but the waiter came to take their order.

  It was almost 11.30 when they stepped outside onto
the Fulham Road, and Jonathan yawned in spite of himself. The night air was just what he needed after the brandy, which had made him feel lethargic. ‘Hey there, stop yawning, we’ve a full night ahead of us,’ Leon giggled, stepping into the road and hailing a taxi.

  ‘Sure we can walk back to the hotel? It will clear our heads,’ Jonathan said, surprised, as a black cab drew to a halt beside them.

  ‘The hotel! No, bro, we’re goin’ clubbin’.’ Leon slid open the door and jumped into the cab.

  Jonathan’s heart sank. Clubbing had not been on his agenda.

  ‘Heaven, Villiers Street, Charing Cross, please,’ Leon instructed the taxi driver. ‘Or do you want to go to Trade or The Fridge?’ he asked Jonathan as he climbed in beside him.

  ‘Heaven’s fine,’ Jonathan said, trying to appear enthusiastic. He hadn’t come to London to go to world-renowned gay nightclubs. Not this time. He wanted to spend time with Leon, to get to know him better, to become a real couple, not just a pair of gay men on a trip to a European capital. Leon held his hand and chatted animatedly as the cab pulled out into the traffic and Jonathan realized that the brandy had gone to his companion’s head. He shouldn’t have suggested it. They’d already had pre-dinner cocktails and a bottle of wine during their meal.

  ‘I’d love to have seen Madge and Cyndi Lauper performing here,’ Leon remarked a while later as they queued to gain entrance to the club. ‘Let’s see, tonight it’s Rich B, and Miss Kimberly. It’s Wednesday night, The Fruit Machine, Yay!’ he exclaimed enthusiastically, kissing him as they waited in the snaking line of the queue. Eventually security people waved them in. ‘Time for another drink. You grab us a seat and I’ll get them.’ Leon edged his way through the crowd at the bar and came back with four shots, two of which he gave to Jonathan. ‘There ya go, dude, slainte!’ He raised one of his glasses and knocked it back before plonking down on the sofa beside him. ‘This is a beaut of a club,’ he said happily, gazing around him.