Lovers Leap

by JL Merrow

  Rufus met his gaze steadily. “I believe you. But . . . does it even matter?”

  What the fuck? Michael took a step forward, then stopped, his fists clenched by his sides and his fingers itching to grab hold of Rufus. “Does it matter?”

  “To you, I mean.” The breeze blew a few strands of blond hair over Rufus’s eyes. He didn’t seem to notice. “Do you even care what I think? Do you care about me? I mean, it’s all right if you don’t. You’ve only known me a couple of days. Probably less hours added up than you and Trix spent together. But I just . . . I need to know. That’s all.”

  Michael’s insides melted. And his outsides. He was just one bloody big puddle on the ground. He barely had the strength to close the gap between them and grab Rufus so fucking tight they were gonna turn into some weird composite freak thing out of a horror movie. “I care, all right?”

  Shit. It was true. Michael was still reeling from the realisation when Rufus kissed him.

  Christ, he’d missed this. It was like . . . like he’d been chugging along on standby, and Rufus had just flicked the On switch. Michael felt like he was glowing, like some stupid fucking sparkly vampire or a shed-load of toxic waste. It was like when you got in a hot shower after a winter’s run, and you hadn’t even noticed how cold you were until you got warm again. He needed Rufus, yeah, like food or air or all that sort of crap. He needed him like water. Water . . .

  Still keeping firm hold of Rufus, cos like he was letting him go ever again, Michael broke the kiss and pulled back to give Rufus a searching look. “So what’s the story with you and water, then?”

  “What? Oh, you mean my ferry thing? Um. It’s sort of a bit, um, made up. I mean, originally it was so’s not to upset Mum when she was ill, but then Dad kept saying I should go and do an apprenticeship in a London restaurant, and him and Shelley would be fine without me, which is, like, so not true. So I thought if they thought I couldn’t leave the island, they’d get off my back about it and not feel guilty.”

  That was just Rufus all over. Thoughtful, self-sacrificing, and kind of complicated. Fuck, Michael lov—was into him. “So what do they think about you being here today?”

  “Um. They think I’m on Tennyson Down, looking at the Needles.”

  Michael laughed. “What are you, some kind of rebel? Seriously, when are you gonna get your act together and get your own place? Preferably this side of the Solent, cos I don’t think there’s a mile-high club for ferries.”

  “You know I can’t do that. Dad needs me in the B&B.”

  “No, he doesn’t. You’re not even taking bookings right now.”

  “We will be soon. And there’s always stuff that needs doing. We can’t decorate the guest bedrooms when there’s people sleeping in them, can we?”

  Shit. “So how were you thinking this was gonna work? It’s no good me going over to yours, with your dad trying to keep us six feet apart all the bloody time.”

  “He’ll come round. And why can’t we go to your house? You can just say I’m a friend. You know, until you’re ready to tell your mum about us.”

  Michael looked at Rufus. Really looked at him, with his delicate features, his earring, and the little rainbow pin in his jacket, which was just the cherry on the . . . the . . . Fuck it. Michael didn’t even like cherries, stupid things, more stone than fruit and how the hell was anyone supposed to be able to do the tongue thing with the stalks anyhow? “There’s no way on earth Mum’s gonna believe you’re a mate of mine.” Even if by some miracle she did believe it, she’d be nagging Michael to ditch him as a bad moral influence.

  “So why not just tell her about us?”

  Michael stared into the sky. “I can’t, all right? I can’t be gay.”

  “I’m not asking you to be gay. You’re bi, right? So what’s wrong with that? Your mum loves you, doesn’t she?”

  Course his mum loved him, but . . . “You don’t understand. She’s old-fashioned, and she’s dead religious. She’s not gonna go for it. Look, we can still see each other, right? We’ll just have to be a bit careful.”

  “For how long?”

  “I dunno, do I?” Christ, way to put him on the spot. “We’ll see how it goes, yeah?”

  “What, so we’ll just keep meeting in deserted parks and stuff? And lying to your mum? That’s dead romantic, that is.”

  “So what, you’re getting all fucking goody-two-shoes about sneaking around behind my mum’s back, but you’re not gonna tell your mum and dad you’re able to leave the island?”

  “That’s different! It’s for their own good.”

  “Oh, and keeping Mum happy’s just me being a total selfish bastard, right?”

  “You really think she wants you to keep her happy by denying who you really are?”

  “I’m not denying nothing! I’m just keeping quiet about it, that’s all.”

  “That’s the same thing! Look, I know what it’s like, coming out. I was worried before I told Mum and Dad I was gay. But it’s something you’ve just got to man up and do.”

  “Why? Seriously, why?”

  “Cos a twenty-six-year-old man who’s still scared of what his mum thinks is seriously not sexy. And I’m not sneaking around and helping you lie to her.”

  “But lying to your own parents and sneaking off the island is just fine, yeah?”

  “I . . . Fine.” Rufus folded his arms. “I’ll tell them, all right? If you tell her. Agreed? Cos if not, I’m going home right now and that’s it.”

  That bastard with the hose and the ice-cold water was at it again. Michael felt like if someone hit him now, he’d shatter.

  It wasn’t fucking fair. “I can’t, all right? I just can’t.”

  Then he turned and walked away.

  Rufus was amazed he didn’t have an accident driving back to Trix’s, cos his eyes were all blurry and he was having a lot of trouble concentrating on the route. It wasn’t fair. He’d come all this way. Faced his (all right, not particularly existent) ferry fears. He’d even agreed to come clean to Dad and Shelley, which was going to have consequences way beyond what Michael thought.

  And Michael wouldn’t even come out to his mum?

  Rufus parked the Focus any-old-how in front of Trix’s flat and trudged up the stairs to bang his head gently on the door.

  When Trix opened it, he almost fell flat on his face.

  “How’d it go?” Liz demanded.

  Rufus sniffled. “Pizza?” he begged plaintively.

  “Oh, Roo-roo.” She came to give him a hug. Strong arms wrapping around him from the other side indicated he was the sausage in a girl-on-girl sandwich.

  Michael would probably really enjoy this, Rufus thought with a pang of sadness.

  “I told you he was a shit, din’t I?” Trix said soothingly. “You’re better off without him. Like me, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” Liz agreed. “So go on, what happened? Do we need to go round there and sort him out for you? Did he, like, slam the door on you? Tell you to piss off?”

  “He said he wanted me to be his secret boyfriend. I mean, I even said I’d tell Dad I haven’t really got a phobia, and he still—”

  “Wait a minute, you what? I don’t believe you. I’ve been on at you for like five years to tell him the truth—”

  “You’ve only known me four years.”

  “—and all he has to do is gaze at you with his big, brown eyes—”

  “They’re blue.”

  “I don’t care if they’re fucking polka-dot. Jeez, will you stop interrupting?” She glared at him. “What was I talking about?”

  “Does it matter?” Rufus burst out with. “There’s no point now, is there? I’m not going to be his dirty little secret, and he’s not going to come out to his mum.”

  Trix frowned. “Well . . . Have you met his mum? I mean, I told you she’s a witch, din’t I, babe?” She glanced at Liz, who gave her a gooey-eyed smile.

  “‘Babe’?” Rufus asked. “Since when are you ‘babe’?”

  �
��You were gone a long time,” Liz said defensively.

  “Not that long.” Rufus sniffed. “Just long enough for my heart to be broken and all my dreams shattered,” he added bravely.

  “Yeah, see? Takes time, that sort of stuff. Oh, fuck off, don’t look at me like that. I know you liked him, but it’s not like he’s the love of your life. How could he be, when you’ve only known him a few days?”

  “Sometimes you just know,” Rufus told her. “It’s love. You wouldn’t understand.”

  Liz stuck up her middle finger at him.

  “How do you know it’s love, not just, you know, like what I felt about him?” Trix asked.

  Rufus had a moment of doubt, then rallied. “Cos you had all this family pressure, yeah? Pushing you to settle down with a bloke. So, right, if you and Michael had stayed together, it would’ve made things easier for you. But for me, it’s all the other way. I mean, my life was a lot simpler before I met him.”

  Liz gave him a pitying look. “No, it wasn’t. All he’s done is made you pull your head out of your arse.”

  “Well, it felt simpler.”

  “What does it feel like now?” Trix asked.

  “Like shit. With shit on top.”

  “That’ll be because your head’s back up your arse again.”

  Trix butted in. “So are you gonna go and be a chef? Liz said you’re amazing with food and you’re, like, sacrificing your dream for your family.”

  Rufus heaved a whole-body sigh. “No point now, is there?”

  Liz turned to Trix. “You see what I have to deal with?”

  A few hours and several pizzas later, after Trix and Liz had said a tearful farewell and promised to Skype, like, every night, they were on their way back to the island. Rufus drove into the ferry terminal and handed his ticket to the woman in the little booth. She tore it in half, just like his heart, and directed him to lane five.

  “Hang about,” Liz said slowly just as he was setting off again. “Isn’t that Shit-bag over there by the pier?”

  Rufus twisted around and stared. Michael was there, leaning against the door of his Saab with his arms folded. He had a pissed-off expression on his face.

  Rufus had never seen anything more beautiful. He slammed on the brakes, then hit reverse. A car coming into the terminal swerved just in time and went into the other lane, horn tooting. Rufus didn’t care. He zoomed up to Michael, parked the Focus next to the Saab, and almost fell out of the driver’s door in his haste. “Michael?”

  “All right. You win. You want me to tell my mum you’re my bloke? Fine. Get in.”

  “What?”

  “Get in. We’re going there now.”

  Dazed, Rufus got into the Saab. He was vaguely aware of Liz shouting something from the Focus, but it probably wasn’t important. “We’re going to tell her?”

  “Yep.” Michael turned the key in the ignition, and the Saab roared into life.

  “And . . . you want to be my boyfriend?”

  “Looks like it, don’t it?” Michael pulled out onto the road. “But you’d better fucking well not have been joking about holding up your end of the bargain.”

  Rufus’s insides were doing a happy dance. If he hadn’t been strapped into the car, the rest of him would have been following suit. Nothing, not even gruffly voiced ultimatums, could burst his bubble. “So we’re going out, yeah? Properly?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Like boyfriends?”

  Michael swallowed. “Yeah.”

  “And you’re going to tell everyone?”

  “Don’t push it.” Michael glanced over. “Fine, yeah, I’ll tell people. If they ask. I’m not taking out a sodding ad in the papers.”

  That was all right. Rufus could Facebook it anyway. “This is amazing. What changed your mind?”

  There was a silence.

  “Michael?”

  “I just . . . I like being with you. Don’t want to never see you again. You make me wanna do stuff, like, good stuff, you know? You make me think about stuff that’s not just getting laid and having a good time. And you made me feel like a fucking coward, you bastard. Telling me to man up, Christ.” He huffed, hands tightening on the steering wheel for a mo. “But yeah, I thought . . . Maybe it’s time I told Mum about me and blokes. Like you said, leap years are for trying something new, yeah?”

  Rufus’s heart broke all over again, then melted into a big, gooey puddle on the floor of the Saab, where it oozed lovingly around the empty Mars Bar wrappers and condom packets. “Oh my god. That’s, like, the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

  “Yeah? You need to get out more,” Michael muttered, his cheeks pink and his eyes fixed on the road.

  “If you weren’t driving, I’d totally jump on you right now.”

  “Yeah, well, no jumping on me when we get there, right? I wanna break this to Mum gently, not by acting out a bloody porno in her front room.”

  The rest of the journey passed in a happy glow. The sun was low in the sky, turning all the colours richer and bathing everything with optimism. Rufus couldn’t believe he’d gone from despair to delirium so quickly. Michael liked him. He really, really liked him.

  Even Michael’s house, when they got there, had a rosier hue than when Rufus had last seen it. The front door, formerly so stern and unwelcoming, now seemed to beckon him in.

  Michael paused, his key in the lock. “Look, just remember she’s really religious, yeah? So don’t expect her to be all happy about you and me being . . . you know.”

  Bless. Rufus gave him a reassuring smile. “It’ll be fine. People’s mums always seem to like me.”

  “Christ, I hope you’re right.” Michael took a deep breath and opened the door. “Mum?”

  A lady about Dad’s age hobbled into the hallway, drying her hands on a tea towel. She looked tired, a bit drab, and like she had too many aches and pains for her age. And she seriously needed to get her roots done, poor love. They showed white for a full inch at the parting of her dark brown hair. Shelley would’ve been horrified.

  “Mum? This is Rufus. I met him on the island, yeah?”

  Rufus smiled at her.

  “Oh?” Michael’s mum gave him a very searching look. She didn’t smile back. “Nice to meet you, Rufus. Are you just passing through here?”

  Rufus looked at Michael. Michael swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing under its sexy coat of stubble. Then he spoke. “Nah. We’re sort of going out, me and Rufus.”

  “Going where?” Her tone was a bit sharper than Rufus would’ve liked.

  “Not going somewhere. Going out. He’s my, um, my b-boyfriend.” Michael’s face had gone a worrying shade of pea green.

  His mum’s lips tightened. “Michael, would you come into the kitchen, please?”

  Michael paled to the colour of baby leeks. “Right.”

  They disappeared, leaving Rufus to examine himself nervously in the mirror by the door. The crucifix on the wall behind him loomed over his shoulder in silent reproof, which was just as well, as any audible reproof would have been drowned out by the furious argument going on in the next room. It was a bit embarrassing. No, scratch that. It was a lot embarrassing. And hurtful. And horrible. Rufus could hear every word. And the word was no.

  “Michael O’Grady, I don’t believe what I’m hearing. A boyfriend? Have you taken leave of your senses?”

  “Mum, can’t we just sit down with a cup of tea and you can get to know him, yeah?”

  “No, Michael. I’m not having him here. Not under my roof. It’s not right.”

  “But Mum—”

  “No. You may tell me that who you choose to go around with is none of my business, and maybe you’re right, for all I’m your mother. But bringing that . . . boy here is making it my business. And I’m not having it. What would your father say?”

  “How the bloody hell do I know? I never met him!”

  “And I’ll thank you not to speak of him in that tone of voice. He’ll be spinning in his grave.” There w
as a sound halfway between a sniff and a sob, and when she spoke again, her voice was so soft Rufus could barely hear it. “Lord knows I’ve tried to bring you up properly. It’s been so hard. A boy needs his father.”

  “Mum, this has got nothing to do with Dad, all right? Look, just come and meet him properly, yeah?”

  “I will not. It’s that girl, isn’t it? Trix. Putting immoral ideas in your head.”

  “This is nothing to do with Trix! I’ve always liked blokes as well as girls.”

  “But you don’t have to act on it. How could you, Michael? When you know perfectly well how I feel about this?”

  The tortured figure of Jesus on his wall-mounted cross gazed reproachfully down at Rufus. He seemed to be saying, What do you expect from a worshipper of Poseidon? Rufus felt horrible. Gut-wrenchingly, miserably horrible. He’d forced Michael into this.

  It was just . . . He’d thought it would go well. That Michael’s mum would say, Bless, I always knew you were a bit light in the loafers, which was pretty much what Rufus’s dad had told him. Or, worst-case scenario, she’d have brief conniptions, burst into tears, and then be all Whatever makes you happy, dear. That’d been Granny Robins.

  How could he have been so stupid? So quick to be all whatevs about Michael’s worries, because it wasn’t like he might actually know his mum’s views on this sort of stuff, oh no, he’d only known her twenty-six years.

  Rufus was the actual dictionary definition of a stupid, selfish, deluded, home-wrecking, prickish arse.

  One thing was certain. He couldn’t stay here.

  His heart breaking into, like, a million pieces, he walked out of Michael’s house.

  Out of Michael’s life.

  Michael heard the front door open and close, but ignored it. Rufus wasn’t gonna get far. Michael had the Saab’s keys in his pocket. Mum was going on about men and their urges, and how they were the devil’s work and you just had to think pure thoughts till they went away. Like it was all just about his dick, for Christ’s sake. As if he’d have brought Rufus to meet her if that had been all it was.