by Drew Hunt
Unlocking the back door, Martin stepped inside and faced Colin, who had remained silent on the walk home.
“Colin, I’m sorry, so sorry. I just wanted to spend the holiday with someone; I didn’t want to be alone. I’m sorry that you had to find out about me that way, I’m sorry if you think that I’ve deceived you or used you. I just didn’t want to be alone again at Christmas.” Martin was openly weeping as he took off his coat. “God knows why I came out to Bob all those years ago. It’s not as if someone with a face like mine could ever have the chance of finding a man.” Martin hung up his coat. “Look, you might as well go home now. I’m sorry for ruining your Christmas.”
* * * *
Colin was horrified and very angry. How could, how dare anyone, least of all someone Martin was related to, come out with such hatred! Martin was the sweetest, kindest, most honest, gentle and loving person Colin had ever had the good fortune to encounter.
Colin had been torn as to whether he should pursue Bob to remonstrate with him, or make sure Martin got home safely. Out of his concern for Martin’s wellbeing, Colin had chosen the latter course. His silence had also been due to the fact that he was making a decision, one which, given the failure of his previous relationship, wasn’t an easy one to make.
Standing in the hallway of Martin’s house, seeing his friend so emotionally shattered, a total change from the happy and smiling man he’d been only a few minutes earlier, Colin knew what he had to do. He wrapped his arms around the now visibly shaking man. Colin brought his lips to meet Martin’s. Treating him to a gentle kiss, he said, “Hush, love, hush.”
Martin jumped in surprise, but at least he stopped crying.
“Martin, let’s go into your front room. There’s something I need to tell you.”
* * * *
“Yoo-hoo, Martin, I’m home!”
“Did you get everything?” Martin managed to ask before Colin engulfed him in his arms and plunged his tongue into his willing mouth. The two were about to celebrate their third anniversary.
After Colin had told a totally disbelieving Martin that he, a pock-marked freak, was very much loved, it took him quite some time to believe that all his dreams had finally come true. Martin had persuaded Colin to take things easy in the beginning, believing that once the dust had settled, Colin would wake up to the realisation that he would prefer to have someone in his life who was more able-bodied and less of a burden to him. Martin’s love for Colin was so great, he couldn’t face the prospect of having his lover feel as though he were trapped. Although Colin had vehemently disagreed with Martin’s assertions, he had reluctantly agreed to take things steady. The pair had decided to go out on a series of dates to test their relationship. The two had taken long walks in the moonlight, visited the theatre, eaten out in restaurants, made trips out into the countryside, gone dancing at a gay-friendly club, as well as spending many evenings at home snuggled up together on the sofa.
After a month of courtship, Colin had finally had enough. He told Martin that he, Colin Rodgers, was totally and completely in love with Martin Kellam, and he was moving in that night and there wasn’t a bloody thing Martin could do to stop him.”
Colin slowly removed his lips from those of his lover. “Jesus, you wouldn’t believe how many groceries I’ve delivered today, I’ve heard of stocking up for Christmas, but some people just go too far.”
“You didn’t get us any sprouts did you?”
Colin chuckled. “No, babe, I didn’t get us any sprouts.”
THE END
Colin and Martin’s London Christmas
“This is his grave, love,” Colin said as he stood with Martin in the bitterly cold pet cemetery.
Martin knelt down and began to pull out the few weeds that had grown since the last time they’d visited.
“Let me give you a hand,” Colin said, kneeling down next to his partner.
“No, just go away, please leave me be,” Martin said with an edge in his voice.
“I’m sorry, Martin, I…” The rest of Colin’s words dried in his throat; he shook his head and withdrew to a safe distance to watch over Martin.
“Hello, Toby, me again,” Martin said to the grave as he worked. With his fingers Martin traced the familiar words on the small brass plaque. Goodnight old pal, sleep well, I’ll be with you in the morning. He choked back a sob.
From his vantage point, Colin itched to go to Martin and comfort him, but knew he couldn’t. It had all been his fault. Colin had gone out to work one morning and left the gate open. Later that day, Martin had let Toby out into the garden. Toby was hit by a car, killing the German Shepherd instantly. The driver of the car had been apologetic, even more so when she was told she’d hit a guide dog.
After placing the wreath on the patch of cleaned earth, Martin stood up and tried to dust the wet clay from his hands and trouser legs.
Colin approached. “Want to go now?” he asked softly.
Martin nodded; he took Colin’s arm and they slowly made their way to the car park in silence.
“You can change your mind, you know, but I think it’d do us both good, change of scenery and all that,” Colin said, starting the car.
“I’m sure the new scenery will be wonderful,” Martin sneered.
The pair had agreed to spend Christmas with Colin’s family in London; it had been Colin’s suggestion. He was at his wit’s end to try and salvage his and Martin’s relationship which had soured since the day in early September when Toby had been killed. Although Martin said he forgave Colin for leaving the gate open, his words weren’t matched by his actions. Martin had retreated into himself, and rarely engaged Colin in meaningful conversation.
“Martin,” Colin snapped. “That’s below the belt. You’ve always told me that blind people say things like ‘I’ll see you later.’ So don’t get on my case when I use phrases like ‘change of scenery.’ It will be good for us both to get away for a bit, you know it will.”
Martin sighed. “Sorry, Col, you’re right.”
Colin reached over and squeezed Martin’s knee.
* * * *
“Martin! It’s good to have you with us again,” Avril, Colin’s mother, said, wrapping Martin up in her arms.
She pressed Martin’s head to her ample bosom and squeezed him tight. Colin knew the first time he’d brought Martin to meet his family, the man had been nervous. But now—despite their own difficulties—Colin knew how much Martin loved his parents, and how much Colin’s folks loved Martin. They were relieved Colin had finally found ‘someone decent to be with.’ Though, as his dad had said, “It wasn’t difficult to improve on Simon,” Colin’s last boyfriend.
“It’s good to be here again,” Martin said from the pillow of Avril’s breast.
“So sorry to hear about Toby. I know our Colin has been beside himself with guilt about it.”
Colin winced, he’d hoped his mother would have steered clear of that subject.
Avril let Martin loose; he was then engulfed by Harry, Colin’s dad.
Colin had to smile at how physically demonstrative his family was. He knew Martin appreciated the being hugged. From what Colin had been able to gather, Martin’s family were rather cold and stand-offish.
In the pre-Martin days, whenever Colin had felt lonely, he knew that all he had to do was make a trip back down south to London and his emotional batteries would soon be recharged.
“Has Uncle Matt flown in yet?” Colin asked after he’d received his own welcome home hugs.
“No, we expect his plane to land about seven o’clock this evening,” Harry said.
Colin was anxious to see his uncle; he’d always had a particularly strong bond with the older man. Matt had been the first person Colin had come out to. Matt was gay himself. “I’ll come with you and pick him up if you like, Dad.”
“I’d have thought you’d have seen enough of the inside of a car for one day,” Avril said.
“You know me, Mum, I love driving. Want to come with us,
Martin?”
“No, I’ll stay here.”
Colin felt hurt, he’d hoped Martin would loosen up a little around his family.
“I appreciate you asking, though,” Martin added. “I’m a bit tired.”
“Okay, love,” Colin said, feeling a little better. It was probably best that Martin not be there when Colin unburdened himself to his uncle.
* * * *
Standing in the arrivals hall, Colin looked up at the monitor. The Qantas flight was delayed by an hour. Sighing, he realised he should have checked the flight arrival time before setting out.
In the event, Colin had driven to Heathrow airport alone; Harry, who ran a car repair garage, had received a call out.
“Probably for the best anyway,” Harry had told Colin. “Most likely you’ll want some time alone with Matt.”
Colin had given his dad a hug. The man understood his son so well.
Finding a corner table in one of the many cafes, Colin settled down to wait. He couldn’t help noticing two young men sitting rather close to one another, one in a leather jacket and jeans, the other in slacks and a thick woollen pullover. He caught a brief glimpse of the pair holding hands under the table. Smiling to himself Colin remembered the many times he and Martin had stolen a quick feel or a brief kiss in public whenever Colin thought it was safe to do so. He knew it wound Martin up, but Colin was also aware Martin enjoyed the slight danger such things brought.
Colin frowned, remembering he and Martin hadn’t done such things since that day. Colin loved his man totally. It was slowly eating away at his insides that the two of them were becoming ever more distant. They rarely made love, and when they did, Martin seemed to do it more out of a sense of duty than anything else. Colin didn’t know how much longer they would last. This trip home was a last-ditch attempt on Colin’s part to save their relationship.
Martin had assured Colin he didn’t blame him for Toby’s death, but Colin was under the dual burden of not being able to forgive himself, as well as knowing that deep down, Martin did blame him.
* * * *
The six foot five Matt Rodgers sat crammed into his seat, waiting not all that patiently for the doors of the aeroplane to be opened. He’d had a very long flight; although he was able to get out and stretch his legs when the plane had refuelled in Singapore, Matt was looking forward to a shower and a warm bed. Peering out at the rain-drenched airport from his window seat, he said, “Bloody hell, I’ve swapped the heat of New South Wales for this? I must be mad.”
The woman who had sat next to him during the whole flight giggled. Touching his knee yet again, she said, “I know what you mean, but it’ll be good to see what Chrissie is like during a winter.”
“Yeah, it’ll be interesting,” Matt said, lifting the woman’s hand and placing it back by her side. The woman, Mary, had been coming on to him throughout the whole journey, snuggling up to him when she’d fallen asleep, as well as frequent touches to his leg as she spoke. Matt had tried to discourage her, but the sheila wasn’t getting the message. He realised the mistake he’d made; she’d become far more attentive once Matt had revealed he wasn’t married.
“You being met by anyone, or maybe you’d like to share my hotel room?” Mary asked, no doubt hoping for the latter.
Matt shuddered. “No, I’m being met, thank you.”
At last the doors were opened, and passengers began to disembark. Mary, who had the aisle seat, didn’t seem inclined to move. “Might as well wait until the crush dies down.”
“Guess so,” Matt said, sighing.
When they finally stood up, Matt had to help Mary find her carry-on luggage in the overhead storage rack. Then she stuck to Matt like glue as they walked along the tunnels and through passport control; both, it seemed, had dual nationality, so didn’t have to go through immigration.
“What flight are you getting back?” Mary asked as they waited for their luggage at the carousel.
“Oh, um, the early morning flight on January the eighth,” Matt lied.
“Oh, I was getting the one later that day, but I’m sure I’ll be able to swap. it would be nice to sit next to you again.”
“Great,” Matt said, relieved he was flying the day after.
Their baggage claimed, it was time to go through customs. Matt hoped if he had to undergo a body search, he wanted it to be done by a cute male customs officer. However, the trip through customs was a mere formality, and the pair moved into the arrivals hall.
“Look, Matt, here’s the phone number of the place I’ll be staying at. Maybe we could meet up while we’re here?” Mary asked in a last ditch effort to hook up.
“Oh, erm…” Matt hesitated. Seeing his nephew moving towards him, Matt had an idea; he knew Colin would play along with him. “COLIN!” He winked at his nephew before treating him to a full-on lip-lock.
Colin seemed momentarily surprised at the enthusiastic greeting.
“Mary, you must say hello to my lover,” he said, wrapping an arm around Colin and turning to face a bemused and deflated Mary. “This man is my life. He’s been over here for the past couple of months, and we’ve got an awful lot of catching up to do, eh, love?” Matt winked at Colin again.
Seeming to catch on, Colin said, “I know, I’ve got out the candles and turned down the bedspread. It’s all there just waiting for you.”
“You little ripper!” Matt said enthusiastically. Turning to Mary, he said, “Actually, I’m not sure which flight we’ll be getting back, but Col and I will look out for you if you like.”
“Oh, no, it’s okay. Um, I’d better go,” Mary said, fleeing the scene.
Colin turned a curious gaze to his uncle.
“You’re a real bottler, mate. That sheila has been trying to get into my pants ever since Sydney. Didn’t know how I’d get rid of her.”
Colin laughed. “You’ve still got it, Uncle Matt. You can still pull ‘em when you want to.”
Matt shivered as he felt someone walk across his grave. Shaking it off, he smiled. “Sure can. But enough about me. How’s Martin?”
Colin sighed. “We’ll have been together five years this Christmas, but we’re not doing all that well at the minute.”
“Oh?”
“I’ll tell you about it on the way home. Fancy stopping off at a pub somewhere?”
“Warm English beer, hmm, can’t wait,” Matt grinned.
“I’m sure they’ll serve that wallaby piddle you Aussies call lager.”
Matt laughed. “Pig’s arse it is, you pommy bastard.” Matt really just wanted to get to Harry’s, have a wash, a wank and hit the sack, but he could tell it was important to his nephew to talk. “Okay, no worries, mate. Let’s go.”
* * * *
The evening traffic on the M4 into London was heavy. Leaving the motorway, Colin eventually pulled up outside a gay pub he’d read about on the net. He’d hoped for a quiet out of the way table, but as it was the week before Christmas, the place was packed.
Matt’s rugged good looks and Australian accent went down a treat with the pub’s inhabitants. Colin’s toned and V-shaped chest, even though it was well wrapped up against the cold of the outdoors, wasn’t a turn-off to the patrons, either.
They were able to get a table near a roaring log fire; Matt said he was feeling the cold, unaccustomed as he was to English winters.
“Wow, Col, this is a fair dinkum pub,” Matt said, looking around at the pub’s traditionally decorated interior.
Colin laughed; it was almost as though his uncle was speaking a different language. “Yeah, I suppose it is,” he said, having to raise his voice above the noise of the jukebox. “Sod off.” He slapped away a hand, which was edging down his chest.
“Oh, honey,” the effeminate queen lisped. “I could give a real hunk like you a good time tonight.”
“Rack off, will yer!” Matt said when the man’s attention turned to him.
“Oh, a hunk from the colonies. How butch,” the man simpered.
Matt
stood up; his looming presence had the desired effect—the man left.
Colin then gave his uncle a brief outline of why he and Martin weren’t getting along. However, the loud music and constant touching soon irked him, and he was forced to give up the idea of talking things over in the pub.
* * * *
The drive back to Kilburn was spent with Colin further unburdening his heart. Matt listened attentively, but was careful not to offer an opinion. Matt was well used to carrying a large dose of guilt around himself, Colin was unwittingly reawakening memories, which Matt would have preferred to leave undisturbed.
* * * *
After witnessing the touching reunion of his father and uncle, Colin went upstairs to his old room, where he found Martin dozing on the bed, still dressed.
“Sweetheart, I’m back.” Colin greeted his man with a kiss.
Martin groaned and sat up. “What time is it?” he yawned.
“Just after ten. Uncle Matt’s flight was delayed.”
“Oh.”
“Want to go downstairs and say hello?”
“I’m tired,” Martin said unenthusiastically.
Colin sighed. It had been a long day, and he didn’t want to get into an argument. “Okay, need a hand finding the bathroom?”
“No. I’m not a baby, I know where it is,” Martin snapped.
“Sorry,” Colin said, keeping the lid on his temper. It seemed no matter what he said, he was always in the doghouse. Colin winced at his inappropriate thought. “I’m going to take a shower, then I’ll come to bed, too. Okay?”
“Yeah, whatever.” Martin lay down again.
As he showered, Colin played the events of ‘that day’ in his head for the thousandth time. How could I have been so stupid? Colin had been running late; he and Martin had enjoyed making out so much that morning they’d lost track of the time. Martin had been left snuggled in their bed, a well-fucked and satisfied smile playing on his face.
