Chase the Ace

by Clare London

  “No, don’t do that,” he said quickly. “I mean, it’s been fun.”

  “Watching me make an arse of myself online, thinking you were someone else?”

  “No, I didn’t mean that.” He was looking at me a little oddly. “And you didn’t make an arse of yourself. I often used to pick Nate up from the SSSC at the end of the day, so I knew it well enough. I remembered the good times of that summer, too. I enjoyed your chatting about them.”

  I winced. “Right.” God, now I knew I’d rambled on. My typing skills were well practised from the insurance claims office where I worked; I just hadn’t used them for online chatting before.

  Nick chuckled, a warm and surprisingly boyish sound. “I meant, I enjoyed talking to you. You’re very entertaining. And not just about the SSSC, but about your job, about what you’re up to now. The new swimming club, the books you’re enjoying, what you’ve read in the papers, what you’ve seen on TV. Your opinions on films and shows and sports.”

  Hell’s bouncing bells, I had rambled.

  He continued. “In fact, I was wondering if you—”

  The music suddenly blared out as if someone had knocked against the volume switch. A group of young men in suits at the other end of the bar roared with laughter and clinked pint glasses together in a toast.

  Nick and I shared a rueful look and returned to drinking our pints.

  “So, what’s this about you and social media?” he asked.

  His previous question had vanished with the moment, it seemed. “Alice makes me sound like I came off the ark. I know my way around the Internet as well as she does. I’m just not keen on sharing it all with her.” I bit off a sigh. “I recently broke up with someone, so I’ve had more time on my hands. I’ve been expanding my horizons.”

  “At Pen Island?”

  “Yes, it certainly looks that way.” I laughed with him; I found I could take the gentle joke from him without further embarrassment. Besides, the sound of his amusement was infectious: his whole face lit up.

  “And you’ve stayed local? Since the sports club days?”

  I nodded. Nearly ten years working in the same insurance firm, living in the same part of Surbiton, not three streets away from my sister and her family. Five years with the same boring boyfriend—no, that was unfair. Things had been exciting once. But my CV sounded pretty staid. “Hence the temptation to branch out. I friended all the people at work on Facebook. Then I joined Twitter and followed all the famous people like Stephen Fry and Bill Gates.” And Kylie and Justin Timberlake, but I wasn’t quite ready to confess that to an unknown quantity like Nick. “I haven’t gone as far as to twat them yet—”

  “Tweet them,” Nick said.

  From the way his throat convulsed, it was lucky he hadn’t had a mouthful of beer right then.

  “Yes, that’s what I meant. Then I discovered people hooking up with friends old and new, and I suddenly thought—”

  “That you could find the guys at the Scorching Summer Sports Club. That you’d lost touch with them since that summer and wanted to contact them again, wherever they are.”

  “Sounds like I was being overdramatic.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

  “I mean, it’s not exactly the quest for Mordor, but we weren’t all living in Surbiton, so there was no expectation we’d stay friends, or even bump into each other again. That seemed a pity to me.”

  Surbiton was in West London, around ten miles out of the city centre, and with the benefit of Richmond Park nearby, there was no shortage of green spaces. The sports club had been for kids in their later teens, and ran on weekdays during the school holidays, with properly coached football leagues and other outdoor activities laid on.

  I started to babble. “These holiday friendships are often just circumstantial, aren’t they? But we were close that summer, and I wondered what paths the other guys had taken, what they’re like today. It’d be interesting to see how much we’ve changed.”

  Nick was nodding, so maybe I hadn’t been as much of an idiot as I thought. “Memory can be precious, though, can’t it?”

  “Hell yes.”

  Visions of the Gang of Four drifted across my mind: in them we were still sixteen—me, Gerry, Mark, and Alec. Larking about at the council-run club while our parents were at work, and finding things in common we hadn’t shared with the other kids. We had a great couple of months, then parted ways when the school term restarted. Obviously none of us would be the same after nearly twelve years. I now had an occasional grey hair, frown lines from a disappointing full-time career, plenty of debt, a less-than-stellar love life, and a sometimes-bossy sister to share family life with. Would the other guys have fared the same?

  “But I think I was naive, expecting to find them just like that. When I went searching on Facebook, the only person I could find who’d attended the SSSC was Nathan.” I flushed. “Who was actually you!”

  Nick reached impulsively across the table and placed his hand over mine. “And we got to meet up and share a good pint of real ale, right?”

  I smiled. “Right.”

  “And I meant it when I said I could help. I found an old address book. There could be an address or two in it for someone you know.”

  “You did?” My heart started beating faster. “Did you bring it with you?”

  Nick bit his lip. “Well, yes and no…. I wasn’t sure. You know, what my welcome would be?”

  I wondered if he’d considered I might be the axe murderer, and he’d decided to be cautious.

  Nick cleared his throat. “So no, I don’t have it on me. But yes, actually, it’s in the car. My untidy brother left a load of stuff at our parents’ house when he moved out. I rummaged through it all and found the address book.”

  “I should have asked before… how is Nathan nowadays?”

  Nick grinned. “He’s fine. He’s selling cars in Knightsbridge and doing very well at it. Couldn’t wait to leave home as soon as he got a job. He’s always been keen to move on whenever the opportunity arose.”

  That gave me food for thought. “I suppose they may all have moved on. It’s twelve years, after all.”

  Nick shrugged. “You won’t know until you check.”

  “No, you’re right.” My heartbeat quickened again at the thought of such a promising start to the project. “Let’s have another drink to celebrate.”

  “I’ll have an orange juice this time, I’m driving. And some snacks? I could murder a packet of cheese and onion crisps.”

  I grinned at him. “Let’s push the boat out. What wild lives we lead!”

  It was a lame joke, but the expression in Nick’s eyes flared briefly, fiercely, and my cock gave an unexpected jerk inside my briefs.

  When I brought the drinks back to the table, Nick was waiting for me, smiling. We opened the packets of snacks, sharing the different flavours as we chatted more generally about our work and hobbies. Nick was a freelance architect, which sounded very impressive, living in a small shared house in Hammersmith but working all around the country. He’d even worked overseas on some prestigious projects.

  The chatting and laughing was fun. I couldn’t remember the last time I enjoyed an evening out with a handsome man and felt so relaxed.

  “Is that the list of names you’re looking for?” Nick asked, picking up a piece of paper lying between us on the table.

  It had fallen out of my wallet after I’d paid for the last round. Before I could reclaim it, Nick ran his gaze over my jottings.

  “Gerry Cole, Mark Cunningham, Alec Masters. Hm. Gerry’s name definitely rings a bell. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen it in the address book. And it was a London address, if I remember rightly. But I don’t recognise the others. Nate’s address book was largely full of girls’ phone numbers. And I didn’t know any of the other kids personally—I was old enough to be left on my own in the holidays, as long as I agreed to be on hand to collect Nate from the club.” Nick looked momentarily puzzled. “You’ve added a header
. ‘Chase the Ace’?”

  “It’s a card game we used to play on days when the rain stopped outside play. Not important.” I winced. “Okay, I know you may not believe that. After all, it’s highlighted.”

  “Yeah. Um. In pink, with a heart over the capital letter A.”

  It had only been a casual scribble, a doodle. A momentary, frivolous lapse from my usual more sober style. I wondered if embarrassment had escalating levels of hideousness, because I was aiming for the top tier that Friday. “Look. When Alice was teasing me, you may have realised I’m gay. And the person I just split up with? It was a boyfriend. I’m not saying all that excuses the pink heart”—I winced again—“but if that’s any problem to you….”

  He chuckled again. “No, no problem. Why should it be?”

  “It shouldn’t. But it is for some people. I don’t believe in apologising for, or hiding what I am. I’m perfectly happy with it.”

  Nick was looking at me intently. “That’s a great attitude.”

  I frowned. Had I sounded preachy? I just didn’t think about it as an attitude anymore. Maybe I’d been lucky with my family—they’d never treated me any differently than my sister and welcomed what I did with my life as long as I worked hard, treated people with respect, and was happy with my choices. And I’d built myself a good reputation at my current job, so the managers judged me on my performance, not my bedroom preferences.

  “What about your friends?” he asked, nodding at the list.

  “Yes, they were gay too. Are gay, obviously. I’m sure that’s why we formed our own group. Maybe we weren’t all out—we were still young—but at sixteen, being gay was definitely one of the reasons we got on well. We weren’t similar individually, but we hung out together because we felt….” I couldn’t think of the right word.

  “Different? Outsiders?”

  There was an odd tone to Nick’s voice. He was peering at me more earnestly than before, as if trying to recognise me from somewhere else. I had that kind of face, I’d been told.

  “No,” I said. “Not outsiders, as such. It just felt like we were support for each other. Company.” I shrugged, wondering for perhaps the first time what exactly had been the bond between us. “We just understood where the others were coming from, I suppose.”

  “Well, you would, wouldn’t you?” He was smiling again. “You probably all visited Pen Island.”

  We started laughing at the same time.

  “You seem comfortable with it,” I said, as polite a way of asking as any. Better to get these things out in the open from the start. “The being-gay thing.”

  Nick raised his eyebrows. “Of course. And it helps that I’m being-gay too.”

  I smiled at the joke. I’d guessed as much from our conversation—something about his banter; the way he looked at me over the table. I hadn’t liked to assume, but a pleasant little shiver ran down my spine at his reply. “Well, that’s great. A happy coincidence, eh?”

  “I hope so.”

  Well, well. Was he flirting with me? Would I even recognise it, as out of practice as I was? But it was startling how quickly and warmly I responded. There hadn’t been anyone who’d sparked my interest since Eric and I split up.

  “Feel free to tell me to mind my own business,” he said. “But did you have something going with one of these guys? Is that why you’re looking for them?”

  “No, nothing like that.” I laughed a little too loudly. On the next table, a young woman with thickly painted-on eyebrows and her hair in a topknot, turned her head and grinned at me. I flushed and looked deliberately back at Nick. “You know something? I’m not sure how much I should share, particularly as I haven’t seen any of them since then.”

  “Of course.” Nick nodded, accepting my business was my own. Wetting his fingers, he reached aimlessly into the bottom of the packet of crisps and picked up the last crumbs, then licked the salt off his fingers and lips. I found myself watching every movement, willing his tongue to swipe across his full mouth one more time. When he scrunched up the empty packet, I felt stupidly disappointed.

  Dammit. I was assuming, wasn’t I?

  I pushed my chair back, careful to avoid the topknotted girl with the scary eyebrows. “Anyway, I’d better be off now. Many thanks for the company. I appreciate you coming to clear things up.”

  Nick looked startled. “Aren’t we going to visit Gerry’s place tomorrow? Even if he’s moved on, there may be a forwarding address.”

  “We?” I was shocked speechless.

  “I offered to drive us both there, remember?” Nick looked surprisingly hopeful. “On Facebook. When we were chatting. You said you didn’t have a car at the moment, and I said I’d be happy to help out with transport.”

  “When I was… and I thought you were…. Oh God. And I accepted.” I was mortified all over again. “This just gets worse.”

  He shook his head, openly grinning now. “Not at all. I’m still fine with that. Unless you don’t want company after all.”

  “No, that’d be fun. But I assumed….”

  “Dangerous, Daniel, to assume things. Don’t you think?” His eyes were definitely twinkling. His very attractive, friendly eyes.

  “Not always,” I said softly. That frisson of goosebumps down my spine was back again. Was it due to the launch of my quest or the thought of a trip out with Nick? “Okay, yes, that’d be great if you have the time.”

  “I’m ahead of schedule on the Tolworth project at the moment, so I have plenty of leeway. To tell you the truth, my contractors are good enough to deal with it all without me. At least for a while.”

  “You’d already said something online about your job, but I couldn’t imagine—” I broke off, embarrassed.

  “Go on.”

  “It was one of the things that startled me, when Nathan said he was an architect. Well… I mean, you did. I’m sorry, I don’t mean any offence.”

  Nick was laughing. “That’s okay, I can imagine. Nate couldn’t build anything to save his life. Could barely draw a straight line, right? His hand-to-eye coordination was sorely lacking. Still is! He must have been a nightmare on the football pitch.”

  “Oh my God, he was!” Those memories—the ones where Nathan had fallen over his own bootlaces or missed the ball completely—had me laughing too.

  “But in compensation, he’s got a hell of a gift of the gab.” Nick turned in his chair to release his jacket, ready to leave with me. “He’s turned into a real salesman, and probably making twice as much money as I am!”

  Chapter 3

  WHATEVER OUR plans that night in the pub, the next afternoon saw us a long way out of London, travelling comfortably in Nick’s car and just passing the stone pillars on the A23 that marked the outskirts of Brighton. We were on our way to the south coast and one of its most popular seafronts. I could already smell the salt in the air blowing through the dashboard vents.

  “You didn’t have to give me a lift all the way here,” I said, then realised how churlish that sounded. “I mean, it’s really good of you. But seventy miles out of your way!”

  Nick was a relaxed and confident driver, and it had been a very pleasant journey.

  He shrugged and smiled. “It’s a day out for me. And maybe you’ve got me hooked on the quest.” We’d been through the address book together that morning before setting out.

  “For God’s sake.” I felt silly now.

  “You mean others can’t join in?”

  “No. I mean, yes. I mean….”

  He was laughing at me, but I didn’t feel too aggrieved. When Eric used to laugh at me, I had to bite back a strong desire to hit him over the head with a saucepan—or any heavy implement that came to hand. Even when Alice teased me, and God knows, I was used to that, I often had to leave the room before I used the tone she called snappy and produced swear words that just spurred her on to tease me further. But Nick’s laugh was inclusive in some delicious way.

  That morning, we’d discovered that Gerry no longer live
d at the Battersea address Nick found in Nathan’s address book. When I thought back more carefully, I remembered Gerry telling me his family moved often. The people now living at that house were Chinese, a friendly couple with several children aged from toddler to young teenager, all of whom peeked out from the living room door and smirked at us while we talked on the doorstep. The couple shook their heads sadly because they didn’t have any idea of where the Coles had moved to.

  I thanked them and turned to go back to the car.

  “Gerry’s at the seaside!” called out one of the older children, a teenage girl. I turned back to find her father nodding but leaving the child to do the talking. “He’s a pop star!” she added.

  A further chat with the family clarified that Gerry had actually taken a job as a singer at a hotel in Brighton called the Sea Spray, and he’d moved down there on his own. From the way the Chinese pair raised their eyebrows, I gathered Gerry and his parents hadn’t been in accord about it.

  “There was a massive row,” the girl said in a stage whisper of her own. She looked gleeful. “We’d only come to collect the keys before moving in. They didn’t even keep their voices down!”

  Club singer sounded quite glamorous to me. But then, I was following Kylie on Twitter.

  Back in the car with Nick, I updated him. “I’ve got time off from work. I’d welcome a couple of days down at the seaside. And the trains are good from Victoria.”

  Nick teased his lower lip under his teeth. “Can’t we keep going?”

  “What?”

  “I’ll drive there. I’d be happy to. Unless you think I’m butting in.”

  “No.” My smile was instinctive. “No. That’d be… fine.”

  So we had lunch in a pub on the way out of London and arrived in Brighton in the late afternoon. The sun was still shining palely, the seagulls calling as they swooped in on the tourists’ discarded food scraps. I hadn’t been to the seaside in a long time, and even though I’d been disappointed not to find Gerry that morning, my spirits lifted.