The Harder They Fall

by Debbie McGowan

  “No way!”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “Yes, I believe you. Just…wow, man. That’s…” George shook his head in amazement.

  “What about you?” Josh asked, feeling very vulnerable now he’d finally told him the truth, or at least the start of it. “And don’t just say ‘from the moment we met’ again, because we were only in junior school! When did it happen for real?”

  “Well,” George began, his face breaking into a smile, “it was also at the sixth form ball. I was buying us a round of drinks and you were sitting at a table with Ellie. I think she might have been stressing about us losing our chairs and I’d been to the bar…need I go on?”

  They both laughed and continued to gaze at each other in wonder that after twenty years they’d finally discovered they fell for one another at the very same moment. What to do about it: that was the question.

  “Kettle’s boiled,” Josh said.

  “Yep.”

  “Best make the coffee.”

  “Yep.” George snapped out of it and poured water into the empty mugs. Josh tutted and pushed the coffee jar towards him, their hands touching briefly in transit and making George gasp. It was electric. Josh turned away.

  “Is that why you didn’t tell me?” George tried to make light of the question, as if it mattered less than the granules of coffee tumbling from the spoon in his shaking hand. “In your letters—the sex thing?” The lack of reply was confirmation in itself. “Josh. Please don’t push me away, not now.”

  “I’m not. It’s just…”

  “I know. I read your letter. You still feel the same?”

  “Which is why we could never make it work. I watched you on Saturday, battling to be yourself in front of all those people. And I was so proud of you, for knowing who and what you are and having the guts to show them.”

  “You don’t know what you are. Is that what you’re saying?”

  “That’s the problem. I don’t think I’m anything. Oh, I’m not saying I don’t get aroused, but obtaining sexual release isn’t the same as having a sexual relationship.”

  “So you’ve never wanted to…act on it?”

  “Once or twice, but not in general, no.”

  George had been stirring the mugs the whole time and was still stirring them now. He stopped immediately and handed one to Josh.

  “So what’s changed? Why tell me all of this now, if you’re so certain it won’t work?”

  Josh couldn’t answer him, not because he didn’t know, but because it was still too painful to explain. He tried to unravel a couple of threads from the full version. The thing was that he’d always loved George, but he’d convinced himself that he couldn’t possibly be in love with him, because he didn’t want to have sex with him, or anyone else. That was why he’d denied the way he felt; however, since they’d been living together, it had been a constant struggle to keep those feelings locked away and his defences had finally reached breaking point.

  “You’ve been so distant,” he said, still grasping around in the rest of it for something more meaningful to add.

  “I’ve been distant?” George asked incredulously.

  “Yes, I know I have too, but I thought you were leaving me, and I think it must’ve flipped a switch in my head. Remember that client I had with Asperger’s Syndrome?”

  “Sort of.”

  “When I told him I’d never been in love, I honestly believed that.”

  “Hang on.” George wanted to check he was getting it right. “So, you think being in love with someone means you should also want to have sex with them?”

  Again, the absence of a response gave Josh away.

  “Do you realise how ridiculous that is?”

  “Is it?”

  “The other day, when you accused Kris and me…”

  “I didn’t accuse you.”

  “Let me finish, please?”

  Josh sipped his coffee by way of assent. George rephrased and continued.

  “You said there was always something between Kris and me, that we wanted each other, but it didn’t necessarily mean anything.”

  “It’s true. Just because you desire him…”

  “I don’t.”

  Josh looked at him in confusion.

  “Kris and I have never had sex. He was my first boyfriend and I was his, so yes, maybe we do have some kind of hold over each other, but that wasn’t why he kissed me at the reunion party. He was trying to prove a point, that no-one would care, and he was wrong. Suzie Tyler is still a vile bitch.”

  “Don’t get me started on her,” Josh warned. “She was looking for someone to victimise all night and I know it’s not much of a consolation, but the majority of people don’t share her very warped view of the world, so try not to take it personally.”

  “Hmm. That’s what Kris said too. Even so; being called names hurts, however old you are, and it could’ve been avoided.”

  “Did you love him?”

  “Yes. I still do, as a friend, although sometimes he really pisses me off, especially when he pulls stunts like that. Growing up where I did, you don’t go around advertising it, and I know he thinks he’s doing it for all the right reasons, but it’s a different world.”

  Josh stayed quiet for a moment, to take in this response. It didn’t make him jealous to hear that George still loved Kris and no doubt the feeling was mutual. However, the question he had asked was not quite the right one.

  “Were you ever in love with him?”

  “Do you mean that, or are you asking if I ever wanted to have sex with him?”

  Josh was still struggling to distinguish one from the other.

  “No,” George replied, for the answer was the same either way. “I’ve never been in love with anyone but you.”

  “And what about sex?”

  “Well,” he said coyly, “I wouldn’t say no. We’ve known each other for thirty years and I’ve been in love with you for twenty of those. I’d be lying if I told you it had never crossed my mind.”

  Josh was flattered, but far from reassured. In his anxiety, he absentmindedly picked up the dishcloth and started brushing the spilled coffee granules into his hand.

  “But it’s not that important,” George said. “The way you start cleaning when you’re stressing out, or hide behind your hair when you don’t want me to know how you’re feeling? That’s the stuff that matters.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Today is the first time we’ve ever talked about sex. Doesn’t that tell you something?” Josh shrugged and moved towards the sink. George intercepted and disarmed him of the dishcloth. “Are you listening?” He waited for eye contact. “Good. I’ll try and keep this short and simple. You see, there are lots of things I love about you. Your smile, your eyes, the way you snort when you laugh, and how you spend hours messing with your hair for it to end up looking the same as ever. I love that you’re intelligent and quick-witted, and that little know-it-all thing you do when someone says something that you think is stupid. I love your obsession with having everything in the right place, and the look of contentment you get when it’s all ‘just so’. I love how you try not to offend me when you hate what I’ve cooked, and how you always put the knives back in the right place when you wash up. I even love…”

  “OK! I get the message!” Josh put his finger on George’s lips. It was an action that both silenced him and momentarily stopped him breathing. Josh smiled and released him. “Although I still don’t see why the paring knife has to be on the left, and the vegetable knife…” George raised an eyebrow. “Anyway, as long as it makes you happy.”

  “It does,” George assured him. “But do you understand what I’m saying?” Josh nodded. “And do you still think being in love with someone means wanting to have sex with them?”

  “No. I guess not.”

  “What do you think now?” Even though he’d had confirmation that the text message was for real, George was as desperate to hear those words as
Josh was to say them, but to do so would be to finally admit it to himself and he was frightened; that in spite of all that George had said, the truth would send him away, only this time it would be forever. However, he was here now and maybe that was enough. Josh took a deep breath and surrendered his soul.

  “I think I’m in love with you, George, but I don’t know.”

  “Because you don’t want to have sex with me?”

  “No. Yes. How the hell am I supposed to answer that?” He blushed and put his head down so that his hair fell over his face.

  George laughed and gently lifted Josh’s chin with his finger. “You know? Whichever of those it is, I’m OK with it.”

  Josh didn’t dare look at him, terrified it would turn out to be another lie.

  “Hey,” George prompted, and Josh glanced up. He saw the sincerity in those beautiful green eyes. And he knew.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO:

  CLUCK CLIQUE

  From the sublime to the not so much ridiculous, but ridiculously loud, Eleanor’s hen party was a very different celebration to the low key night in the jazz club two days previously. In attendance was the bride herself, of course, her sisters Charlotte and Tilly, her mother (not staying long, too much to do), Shaunna, Adele, Jess, Mrs. Brown (Rosa, please), Krissi, Karen (Krissi’s current and Eleanor’s previous assistant manager), Kris, Josh and George, the latter three ‘honorary hens’ for the evening, by reason of orientation or allegiance. Tonight’s venue: a crowded live music bar with no less than three bands performing and a late licence ’til 3 a.m.

  “No prizes for guessing who organised this,” Shaunna shouted to Adele. Charlotte was already up and dancing, pint glass in one hand, camera in the other, so as not to miss a single photo opportunity. Mrs. Davenport and Mrs. Brown were also up on their feet, not dancing as such, but definitely swaying in time to the music.

  “Does it have to be so loud?” Adele shouted back.

  “Yeah. I think it does, although it’s no louder than what we used to listen to.” They were part way into the second band’s set, which was significantly louder than the opening act and didn’t bode well for their hearing surviving the headliners. Kris came over and joined them.

  “They’re good aren’t they?” he said.

  “Yeah. Very good,” Shaunna agreed. “I like this folky rock music.” Adele scowled and Shaunna laughed at her. “She doesn’t though, do you, hun?” Adele shook her head. “I haven’t seen Ellie for a while. I wonder what she’s up to?”

  “I think you might be about to find out,” Kris said knowingly, as Eleanor and her youngest sister made their way over. They were carrying a bag, out of the top of which Shaunna spotted some brown feathers.

  “Oh no! This is going to be so embarrassing.”

  Eleanor gave them a big, cheesy grin as she approached and held open the bag. “One head-dress, one pair of wings. And yes, Adele, you have got to wear them.”

  Shaunna put her hand in the bag and pulled out a pair of brown wings on a piece of elastic, attached to which was a hat with matching feathers and a red beak-shaped protrusion. She tutted and handed her drink to Kris so she could put them on. Eleanor nodded to Adele, who reluctantly followed suit, her own selection consisting of a white pair of wings and hen face.

  “Don’t think you’re getting away with it, either,” Eleanor said to Kris.

  “Have you got cockerels in there too?”

  “Do you want everyone calling you a cock all night?” Eleanor asked.

  Kris laughed. “Nope.”

  “Good, because you’re a hen like the rest of us.”

  He took out the next set—another brown one—and put them on. Eleanor tweaked his beak and then she was off in Charlotte’s direction. It was Tilly’s idea, but Charlotte was more than up for it: she put on her wings and hat and started strutting around the dance floor.

  “Oh good God. What did I do?” Tilly asked. Eleanor was already looking around the bar in search of their next victims.

  “Hmm. Jess must be in the loo. Let’s do the mothers.” Here she expected some resistance, but found them both to be more than willing to wear the ridiculous hen costumes. Krissi, on the other hand, was a bit more of a challenge, and only went along with it when she spotted Kris, strutting towards her from across the other side of the bar, poking his ‘beak’ at a table to the left and then to the right. Karen followed Krissi’s lead and put on the wings she was offered. Eleanor still hadn’t spotted Jess, but she had seen Josh and George standing at the end of the bar with their backs to her. George was talking, his hand cupped around Josh’s ear, and Josh was nodding enthusiastically. He turned to laugh at whatever George had just said, and spotted Eleanor and her sister coming their way.

  “Now, I know you’ll be up for this,” she said to George, handing him a pair of wings, “and you can just bloody well put up with it.” She gave some to Josh.

  “And where are yours?” he asked.

  “Here,” she said, passing the last but one ‘normal’ pair to Tilly, before slowly pulling her own set from the bag: a vast pair of white wings tipped with gold, followed by a hat with an enormous white and gold plume. Josh and George stared at her in amazement.

  “You can blame her,” Eleanor said, pointing at Tilly. “But how good is this? I’m having a brilliant time.” She put on her wings and jerked her shoulders forwards so that they flapped. Josh started giggling, which made him snort, the knock-on effect being that now George was giggling, as were both women. When they finally regained some composure, Josh checked to see if Eleanor needed a drink: she already had several paid for behind the bar, so he added one more to her tab and bought a drink for her sister while he was at it. He and George were still on their first pints and had barely touched them.

  “Have you seen Jess anywhere?” Eleanor asked, folding the almost empty bag over and giving it to Tilly. George shook his head.

  “Not for a while, no.”

  “Oh well. See you later.” With that, she was off on another round of socialising. Charlotte danced her way across the carpet in pursuit of her sisters.

  “Those Davenports are serious party animals,” George observed.

  “They sure are,” Josh agreed. He was getting into the party mood himself and was drumming along on the bar.

  “So, how are you feeling now?”

  “Confused, a bit dizzy, like I just stepped off a roundabout.”

  “Have you eaten today?”

  “No. I was kind of busy trying to show someone how much I love them. It doesn’t really lend itself to eating.”

  “Especially if you have to make it yourself,” George smiled. “Breakfast was fantastic, by the way.”

  “Oh shush.”

  “No, it really was. And it seems so long ago.”

  “It was! D’you think Ellie’d mind if we popped to the chip shop?”

  “She will if we don’t tell her that’s what we’re doing.”

  Josh nodded in agreement and made a quick visit to the Gents’, while George told Eleanor of their plan. She accepted it unquestioningly, which was what he’d anticipated: she was very compliant if you knew how to handle her—well, maybe not compliant, but she’d usually go along with most things. She still hadn’t found Jess, but by now had a pretty good idea why. Josh and George were able to confirm her suspicions when they returned a short while later, having seen Jess get onto the back of a motorbike and speed off down the road. She didn’t see them.

  “I’ll never forgive her for this,” Eleanor said angrily.

  “That’s understandable,” Josh consoled her, “but don’t let her ruin your night.”

  “Ha! I have no intention of that happening.” She went to the bar to collect one of her pre-paid drinks and glugged thirstily. “I’ve expressed enough milk over the last week to freeze some so I can have a drink tonight,” she explained. Josh nodded in illustration of his newfound understanding. George looked puzzled.

  “I can explain it to you if you like,” Eleanor o
ffered.

  “I’m just fine with being ignorant, thanks,” he said, looking a little worried that she might yet elaborate. She laughed at his reaction, then made her way back to the dance floor to join her sisters for the second band’s last song. Meanwhile, the three members of the headliners were bringing in their equipment and Krissi was helping them.

  “What’re you doing?” Shaunna asked, crossing paths with her daughter on the way out, so Adele could ‘get some fresh air’.

  “I know the guitarist from college,” she explained, “so I thought I’d give them a hand while we catch up.”

  Shaunna followed Adele outside, equally relieved to give her ears a break. She stepped aside to let the drummer pass by with his drums, Krissi trailing behind him, carrying a guitar case and chatting to whom she correctly assumed to be the guitarist. The vocalist was at the bar, talking to the guy who owned the place and waiting for the current band to clear the stage.

  “I’d listen from out here, if I were you, Adele,” Krissi said as she passed by. “They’re amazing, but they’re really loud.”

  “What?” Adele said, her ears ringing from the battering they had already taken.

  “The Late Poets. They’re really loud,” Krissi shouted.

  “Oh. Thanks for the warning,” Adele smiled falsely. She wasn’t sure she could take much more. “Do you think we’d get away with going home soon?” she asked Shaunna in what she thought was a quiet voice.

  “No, you won’t!” Eleanor had also come outside and shouted from right behind her, startling her. “I’m sorry, Adele, but Jess has already let me down.”

  “It’s not you, sweetie. It’s the music. It’s really hurting my ears.”

  As she said this, the drummer was on his last leg of bringing in his kit.

  “I’ve got just the thing,” he said. “Stay right there.” He went inside to deposit his cymbals and returned a moment later. “There you go.” He handed Adele a small plastic bag containing a pair of ear plugs. “I forgot mine a couple of weeks ago,” he explained, “and my mate went back home to get them, but somebody gave me these, just in case. They’re not great, but they should help a bit.”