Taking out his un-pawned phone he stared at the screen, willing James to call and chew off his ear, as he had the previous Saturday. He wouldn’t cut the call this time, not even if a whole host of texts pinged up. The screen remained blank. Tucking it away in his coat pocket, Josh leaned back in the chair, cradling the mug of tea. Where had it all gone wrong?
For a while there it seemed he had everything a man could want, a job he enjoyed and a cosy little bedsit to call home. Some people might consider a bedsit as life at the bottom of the pile, but when you’d slummed it on the streets, as Josh had, anywhere was better than nowhere. The bedsit was clean and well maintained. James wouldn’t have paid the bond and let him rent it otherwise. They’d looked at dozens before settling on the one where Josh now lived. He chewed his lip. He’d hate to lose it.
The phone in his pocket suddenly rang. Josh set his mug down with such haste the tea slopped over the rim onto the table. He stared at the screen, a heavy feeling in his guts. It was Phil. Switching off the phone he put it on the table. Phil could wait for a while and anyway he could hardly expect him to answer a phone he was supposed to be in process of pawning.
“Hi.”
Josh looked up startled, as a figure loomed over his table. Fuck! His stomach lurched. It was skinny blonde boy, whatsisname, Ben, the bloke Phil had dumped him for and then dumped in his turn. Josh’s head spun. What did this Ben want - revenge?
“Hi,” he said, hardly recognising the squeaky voice as his own. He hoped skinny blonde didn’t want to fight him. He’d never been any good at fights. He sat up a little straighter hoping to give the impression he could handle himself.
“You’re, er, Josh, right?”
Skinny blonde smiled and Josh relaxed. He nodded, “and you’re Ben?”
“That’s me. I saw you outside Buckley’s pawnshop. I followed you here. I’m not stalking you though, honest, well not in a bad way. Mind if I join you?”
Josh shook his head and Ben sat down with his drink, a luxurious looking cappuccino sprinkled lavishly with chocolate powder. Lucky bugger, he must be flush.
There were a few moments of awkward silence and then Ben cleared his throat. “Hope you don’t mind me asking, but are you and Phil back together?”
Josh nodded, “yeah, sort of, I suppose. He turned up at my place this morning.” He laughed nervously. “Second time lucky eh?” He sobered, glancing at Ben, trying to read his face. “I’m really sorry, you know, about him leaving you. I know how it feels.”
Ben took a sip of his coffee, rubbing a trace of powdery foam from his upper lip before speaking. “Don’t worry about it, and by the way he didn’t leave me. I gave him his marching orders.”
“What?” Josh was incredulous. Who in their right mind would give Phil marching orders? Not even a drill sergeant in the British army would give Phil marching orders.
“I asked him to leave,” said Ben calmly. “No matter what he told you, the truth is I asked him to leave this time round.”
“This time round? What do you mean?”
Listen, Josh, Phil was with me before he was with you the first time. When he dumped me I thought my heart was broken. I cried myself sick for days. I couldn’t eat or sleep.”
Josh empathised, though didn’t say so. Instead he said: “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. I’m trying to save you.”
“Save me?” Josh felt wary. Oh hell, he hoped Ben wasn’t some kind of born again evangelist with an anti-gay agenda.
“Hear me out. The reason Phil dumped me the first time was because I lost my job and didn’t have any money to help keep him in the luxury he likes to be kept in.”
“He does like the high life,” admitted Josh before he could stop himself.
“He doesn’t like working for it though, and that’s where blokes like you and me come in.” Ben took another swig of coffee, set down his cup and said with a sigh, “let’s face it, mate. We’re not classic pin up material. I’ve never had blokes queuing at my door to date me, so when Phil asked me out I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.”
Josh knew that feeling.
Ben continued. “I’d have done anything for him, and he knew it. That’s how he operates. He knows plain boys are bloody grateful to have someone like him and will do anything to keep him.”
Josh swallowed. He wasn’t sure he liked the inference he was plain and desperate, but still, he saw where Ben was coming from. He went on the defensive. “If Phil is only after a meal ticket, which is what you’re suggesting, then why come after us? He could have his pick of any man, someone rich and good looking.”
“He doesn’t like competition in the looks department. He likes to be the only beauty on the block. His ideal man is probably someone with a face like the back of a bus and a huge bank account. Until that man comes along, blokes like us will do. We’re easy to manipulate and we’re a perfect foil for his looks.”
“You sound bitter.”
“Maybe I am. It isn’t nice to be used as an open purse to be dipped into and then booted when the purse runs dry. I bet he’d cleaned you out didn’t he, before he left you to hightail it to my door again?”
Josh shrugged. Plain and desperate he might be, but he had his pride.
“I bet he drained you. I know him.”
“I was struggling, a little bit,” admitted Josh reluctantly. “My outgoings were bigger than my incomings.”
“I thought so, when I saw you outside Buckley’s. Been there, done that, got the pawn tickets.”
Josh found himself justifying. “My worries about money got Phil down a bit. He said it was one of the reasons he left. He’s an artist, he needs nurture not nagging.”
“I bet he told you that. I bet he also told you he’d pay you back everything you’d spent when he hit the big time. Only he’s never going to hit the big time because he’s too lazy to work for it.”
“Why did you take him back, if everything you say about him is true?”
“When he came knocking, saying how much he’d missed me and how he realised he had loved me all along, I’ll admit I was thrilled. He is so beautiful he dazzles you. It feels like a privilege just to look at him.”
Josh nodded agreement.
“My dad died last month.”
“I’m sorry,” said Josh sincerely. He’d lost his own dad when he was younger and could still remember the pain of grief. Sympathy aside, he wondered where this seemingly random statement was heading.
“Thanks. It was a shock. Anyway, dad left me quite a bit of money. That’s what brought Phil back into my life. He got wind of my inheritance. He didn’t want me. He wanted my money.”
Ah. Josh blinked. So he’d come runner up to a wad of cash. It figured.
“I must have grown up a bit during the time he was with you, because I realised I was being used, and that I’d been used all along. I didn’t like it. It made me think about how much I really loved him, and I realised I didn’t. What I thought was love was just lust and gratitude. A week was enough this time round. I didn’t want to be at his beck and bloody call again, being run ragged to serve his ego. I told him to go, and you should too. He’s a loser and a user. He’ll bleed you white and when you’ve got nothing left to give he’ll leave you to leech off some other poor mug.”
“How do I know you’re not saying all this just to get back at me because Phil left you again?”
“I’m not, honest. You seem like a nice lad. I’m trying to do you a favour, and save you more grief. We might not be candidates for Mr Gay Universe, but we deserve better than Philip Lancaster. We deserve to be loved for who we are, not treated as a resource. Anyway, I’ve said my piece. I’ll go now.” He stood up and held out his hand. “No hard feelings?”
“No hard feelings.” Josh shook his hand. “How was the cappuccino by the way?”
“Nice enough.”
“If you want a great cappuccino, then call in at Silver’s cof
fee lounge on Angel Street. Do you know it?”
“Course I do. I used to go there often actually, before Phil started dating a certain waiter.”
Ah, so that’s where he’d seen Ben before. Josh smiled. “Maybe you should start coming in again?”
“Maybe I will, if only to eyeball the bloke who owns it. He might not look like an A list film star, but he has a certain presence, don’t you think?”
“He’s a good man,” said Josh, quelling what felt suspiciously like a stab of jealousy. He didn’t like this Ben fancying James. He added casually, “I think he’s with someone.”
“The good ones are always taken. I used to think he fancied you a bit. I’d watch him watching you as you worked.”
“I don’t think so.” Josh flushed. Ben was the second person to suggest James might be interested in him. If so, why had he never said anything, never made a move? Josh had given off enough signals to show he was open to enquiry. You can only signal for so long before giving up.
“See you around.” Ben raised his hand and made to walk away, but then turned back. “If you ever do decide to ditch Phil, be warned, he’ll say some horrible things. He doesn’t take kindly to being dumped. It interferes with his god complex.”
“I’ll bear it in mind.”
When Ben had gone, Josh sat thinking, returning to the question he had been asking himself since Phil had walked back into his life that morning. Was it what he wanted? Given how devastated he’d been when Phil had finished with him it seemed an odd question to be asking and the fact he was asking it begged another question – was he still in love with Phil, had he ever been in love with him?
He couldn’t deny he was attracted to Phil. Who wasn’t? Men and women, gay and straight, all took a second glance. It felt like an honour just to share the same space as the divine being known as Philip Lancaster. The man was undeniably beautiful. One smouldering look from those incredible sea-green eyes left you in a tailspin.
The thing about tailspins was that you either came out of them or you crashed and burned. To survive you had to keep a cool head and evaluate the situation.
Josh took a deep breath and did a Fagin, making an effort to review the situation.
Was the attraction he felt, or thought he felt for Phil, no more than appreciation of a perfectly put together human being?
When you lacked conventional beauty yourself you tended to gravitate towards those who had it. You craved beauty even if it was just by association, perhaps because beautiful people were automatically afforded approval. Lesser mortals had to fight for it and even then it wasn’t guaranteed. What was that saying, about having a face only a mother could love? Josh’s throat constricted. Not in his case. His mother had never hidden her disgust at having a plain son. She regarded it as a personal insult. Everything he did was a disappointment to her.
Thoughts of his mother brought the usual array of bad feelings. Forcing her out of his mind he returned to mulling over his relationship with Phil. Ben’s words about lust and gratitude popped to mind. They had a ring of cold truth to them. Was his relationship with Phil the same, no more than a case of lust and gratitude? So why had he been so devastated when Phil left and excited when he returned?
Questions, bloody questions! He pushed his fingers through his hair as if combing for answers.
He’d been dazzled and flattered by Phil’s attention and anything, anything, was better than being alone. His mother resurfaced again, along with a flash of insight. When Phil had left it felt like rejection, it was rejection. He didn’t cope well with it. Always at the back of his mind was the idea he wasn’t good enough. Mixed in with hurt pride and the fear of never landing another man was reawakened hurt at his mother’s rejection. Phil’s rejection validated hers, confirming he was unworthy of love.
Suddenly he regretted going out with Phil in the first place. He’d known all along there was a catch involved, but had suppressed it. Part of accepting had been a small hope that James might not think him such a poor catch after all, not if a man like Phil wanted to date him. Only Phil didn’t want to date him, not as such. He wanted adoration, a free doss and someone to pay his bills while he played at being an icon.
As for the flash of excitement he’d felt when Phil returned, well, it was fresh gratitude that such a gorgeous man had come back to plain ordinary him. If he could stick Phil in a corner and just look at him they might have the perfect relationship.
Josh suddenly smiled, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders. He was coming out of his tailspin. He’d survived. Phil was gorgeous, but as shallow as a puddle. He was only in love with himself. He was also dull. All he wanted to talk about was Phillip Lancaster.
Picking his phone up off the table, Josh had a quick glance around to make sure he was unobserved and then he kissed it and put it back in his pocket. Time to stop being a mug and go home.
Eight
A Moment of Truth
James rose bright and early on Tuesday morning, well, early anyway. Bright didn’t really come into the equation, not at twenty past five in the morning, in England, in December. It was pitch black outside and not much lighter inside. James had not had a restful night. He’d tossed and turned and then, when he finally did get off to sleep, he was plagued with odd dreams. Most of them had featured his absent waiter - as a pup.
He blamed Bea for the nature of the dreams. She had put the idea of Josh as a scruffy stray dog into his head and his mind had run with it. James gave a smile. Some of the dreams had had a decidedly kinky edge to them. That’s what you got for discussing soft porn novels with kinky customers.
Thank god Mr Mandale was nearing the end of the ‘Shades’ trilogy. James hadn’t even realised the books were on the coffee lounge shelves until Mr Mandale started reading them. He suspected the vicar’s wife, Ellen, of putting them there. She had a mischievous streak. It went with her dirty laugh and her penchant for wearing clothes that looked like they’d been retrieved from Vivienne Westwood’s bin. He’d have to keep an eye on what she was slipping onto the shelves in future. He didn’t want his teen customers corrupting before their time, though he’d bet most of them already knew how to access porn sites on their various gadgets.
Hopefully, Mr Mandale would find something less shady to read and discuss once he had finished ‘Fifty Shades Freed.’ He certainly wouldn’t find any more kinky porn, not unless he nipped upstairs and rummaged through James’s personal collection of gay BDSM books, and there was little chance of that. James kept the door to his private chambers firmly locked. Not that his collection was solely porn of course, a lot of it was educational and instructive lifestyle stuff. During his time in the Capital he had dabbled in the scene for a while and he had never been one to dabble blind. He liked to know the rules and regs.
After stoically munching his way through a couple of bales of shredded wheat washed down with tea he went off to shower and get ready for work.
Not even plentiful hot water could wash thoughts of Josh from his mind. Fresh annoyance swept over him. The kid deserved a bloody good spanking for messing him and Bea about, leaving them to carry his workload as well as their own at one of the busiest times of the year, the run up to Christmas. Having a broken heart was no excuse, if indeed he had one. From what he’d observed of Josh in recent weeks a break from what appeared to have turned into a toxic relationship might be more of a relief than anything else. Love was a funny old thing though.
James rubbed wet hands over his face. Would Josh turn up today, or had he really outgrown the coffee lounge? Maybe he’d found another job? The thought didn’t rest easy with James. He didn’t want to lose the kid. He was a good little worker. The customers liked him.
Turning off the shower, James rested his forehead against the streaming tiles. Who the hell was he kidding? It was moment of truth time. He had missed Josh, and for more than his work skills. He missed chatting with him, missed seeing him bustle about, missed his sweet little gap toothed smile. Bea was right. He had fall
en for the scruffy little stray he found sleeping in his coffee shop early one morning.
She was right again when she said the kid had flirted with him and he had ignored it. He’d been tempted, of course he had, but it would have been wrong to take advantage of what he was certain was a puppy crush. He was too old for Josh and too old for anything else. It would be an inappropriate relationship. Folk in their forties had no right setting their sight on kids in their twenties. He sighed as he reached for a towel. If only he was still thirty-nine, like he had been this time last week. It sounded so much younger than forty.
Standing in front of the wardrobe mirror he examined his naked body. It wasn’t bad. A long stint as an army cadet when he was a teenager had given him good bearing. Lots of walking, being on his feet all day, the odd jog and long hauls on his rowing machine had kept him in decent trim. He still had a flat stomach and a trace of a six-pack, if you looked hard. He had good legs and toned arms, not muscle bound, but firm enough. He could still twist the lid off a pickle jar without calling in reinforcements.
Opening the wardrobe door he examined his clothes with a critical eye. Maybe he needed to update? He went through them, looking for something less conservative and more on trend. He paused in his search. What was on trend? What did it even mean? He groaned. Fashion had never been his strong point. He simply wore what he liked and what felt comfortable.
Abandoning his usual uniform of cords, plain shirt and sweater, he chose a pair of smart blue jeans and a casual blue checked shirt, which he tucked inside the jeans, and then pulled out, and then tucked in, and out again. Damn it! How were you supposed to wear shirts with jeans these days?
He might have banned gadgets from the shop, but it didn’t extend to his personal space. He had a pay as you go mobile, for emergencies and a laptop, mainly for business purposes. A quick look on the Topman website gave him a clue about jeans and shirts. Grabbing a grey t-shirt he put it on and then slipped the shirt over it, leaving it unbuttoned.
Christmas Kisses Page 4
