by Drew Hunt
“Since when have I?”
“I know, you’re a brick, a real trooper.”
“Thank you, Laurence, and I accept your apology for not turning up at the Savoy today.”
“You’re a star, Ernest, a true gem.”
I managed to end the call a minute later. I thought I’d gotten off quite lightly considering. I’d saved the cost of lunch anyway.
I’d been friends with Laurence, Horace and the gang for years. They were my gay sisters. Most were a bit older than me and had upper class aspirations. Bless their hearts, many were rather queenly, too. Laurence probably was the most effeminate of the lot. My mind drifted back to the first time they’d encountered Bradley. Horace had rung up inviting me to one of his frequent little parties. These were merely an excuse for the queens to gather round and dish the dirt on their other friends.
* * * *
I wasn’t at home when Horace’s call came, and Bradley accepted on our behalf. I should have known that a boy from a hick town in the Midwest wouldn’t mix well with the refined Horaces, Laurences, and Timothys of this world. But I was in love with my American guy, and stupidly I didn’t ring up to cancel our invitation or feign an illness at the last moment.
As the party drew nearer, I lost count of the number of times I told Bradley to behave, to work from the outside in with the cutlery and to always keep his fork in his left hand and his knife in his right. I deplored the American habit of putting the knife down and swapping the fork to the right hand.
All went swimmingly for the first ten minutes of the party. I began to breathe more easily.
Perhaps this might work after all, I told myself.
Then, during a brief lull in the conversation, I witnessed from across the room Bradley putting his arm around Laurence’s shoulder, and loudly announcing in his thickest accent, “Jeez, Larry, d’you know where the john is at?”
The room went totally silent; a quick look around revealed several thousand pounds worth of dental bridgework coming into view. No one, absolutely no one, addressed Laurence as Larry, and to end the sentence with a preposition…
“I’m afraid,” Lawrence squeaked, then cleared his throat and resumed in his normal register, “John was unable to make it today.”
Bradley slapped Lawrence on the back pretty hard. He didn’t know his own strength half the time. Laurence pitched forward.
“You English and your sense of humour. No, I wanted the john,” he enunciated. “You know, the outhouse, the water closet, the little boys’ room. I need to drain the lizard…siphon the python.”
The party didn’t recover after that. Yes, my friends were overly snooty, and Bradley told me later he did it to ‘puncture their pompous asses.’ It seemed Laurence had said something about the States being a former colony. That naturally got Bradley’s goat.
I got Bradley out of there, I tried to be mad with him, but I loved him. The dirty, lower-than-a-snake’s-belly bastard he later turned out to be.
* * * *
The chiming of the hall clock thankfully broke my train of thought.
“I’ll have to go out and get some stuff in for sandwiches for tomorrow,” I told the oven. It still wasn’t responding.
I retrieved my shopping list from the fridge magnet—a present from Great Aunt Brenda—and made my way to Safeway.
As I trawled the aisles, I wondered what kind of food Liam liked. I had previously rejected the idea of getting a hamper from Fortnum’s, knowing that would come across as too extravagant.
* * * *
That night I listened to the Promenade concert from the Royal Albert Hall on the radio. Although the Saturday concerts were generally aimed at a broader audience, I thought the BBC Symphony Orchestra tackled the Beethoven Choral Symphony pretty well, although they didn’t match my recording of George Szell conducting the Cleveland Orchestra.
I decided to shower…even having a good old wank as I washed. Thoughts of having those gorgeously strong arms of Liam’s holding me sent me over the cliff. I watched the milky fluid swirl down the drain as I leant against the tiled wall of the shower cubicle.
Despite the still oppressive heat, I got a good night’s rest, dreaming of my knight in shining blue rescuing me from an ever-more improbable series of dangerous situations.
* * * *
Drawing up to the section house the next morning, I spied Liam leaning against the entry door. He looked so…beautiful just lounging like that. Then when he spotted me his whole face broke out into one of those heart-melting smiles of his. It was a good thing I’d almost stopped the car because seeing him made me momentarily forget how to drive. I’d have to pull myself together, and pretty sharpish, too, if I didn’t want to make a fool of myself.
“I’m not late, am I?” I asked, winding down the window. I knew I was five minutes early; I’d left myself plenty of time. In fact I’d paced up and down the house for twenty minutes, Lane watching me with typical feline disinterest, before I judged it was late enough to leave.
“No, no, not at all,” he said, treating me to another face-splitting grin.
I unlocked the car doors and Liam got in.
“Better put your seatbelt on, you never know when there’ll be a policeman about.”
He laughed and pulled the belt across his oh-so-wide chest.
I looked away and put the car back in gear. “I threw a few things together for us to eat later.” I’d actually bought out half the supermarket’s deli counter. I’d over-provisioned big time, but in my own defence I didn’t know what he liked.
“Great. I eat pretty much anything. It was a case of eat while you could at home, with so many of us…you had to grab it before someone else did.”
I couldn’t imagine living in a large family. “I thought we’d take a trip into Epping Forest.”
* * * *
It didn’t take very long to get to the forest. Or rather with Liam with me it didn’t seem to take long.
“Is there anything special you want to do while we’re here?” I asked.
“Erm, could we go horse riding?”
“Horse riding? I haven’t been on a horse in twenty years,” I said.
His face fell. “Oh, okay then. I’d like to see the Elizabethan hunting lodge again.”
I changed course, and we soon pulled up outside some riding stables. A friend of a friend worked there, and I was fairly certain we’d be able to get a couple of horses for the morning.
“Oh, wow, I thought we were going to the lodge.” Liam’s child-like expression was so endearing, I knew I’d do anything to make him happy.
“Ah, well, Mr Policeman, Sir, the lodge doesn’t open till the afternoon, so we’ve got a morning free. And if I’m going to get travel sick atop one of those nags,” I pointed into the field opposite, “then I want to do it before lunch.”
Liam got out of the car; he was just like a child at Christmas. Yes, I’d put up with any amount of discomfort just to see him look so happy.
After a couple of false starts, and a few good laughs from Liam and one of the stable workers, I managed to get myself on the horse’s back.
“Congratulations!” Liam called over from his own mount.
“Thanks, now which button do I press to get the thing started?”
Liam treated me to a full on laugh.
Actually, the ride wasn’t too bad. At first it was like being on some kind of weird mechanism with each of the four corners collapsing in sequence, but when we went faster things smoothed out.
Trees and open spaces looked so different from my elevated position. Although, when Liam, astride his trusty steed, was directly in front of me, the scenery was equally glorious. It was wonderful watching his cute, firm arse bouncing up and down in the saddle. And although the riding hat that the stables had provided hid his gorgeous locks, the hat really suited him.
“I think we ought to turn back,” I suggested once we’d been going for about an hour.
“Do you know the way back?”
I thought about it, then admitted, “I’m not sure. I thought you policemen were supposed to be trained to be observant as to such things. Didn’t you take note of where we were going?”
“No, I was enjoying myself too much.”
We needn’t have worried, however; we just loosened the reins and the horses took us back to the stables.
A sweaty but happy duo arrived back at the stables a few minutes before our allotted two hours were up.
Liam dismounted with ease.
I, however, had more difficulty. “There’s never a fence around when you need one,” I grumbled.
“If you fall I’ll catch you,” Liam said, looking up at me, his gorgeous blue eyes in full mischievous sparkle.
“Promises, promises,” I said. Then I immediately regretted my words. Play it straight, Ernest, I told myself.
I managed to separate myself from my ride without too much difficulty. It wasn’t overly graceful, but it was effective. I brushed myself down as best I could. “I’ll stink of horses for the rest of the day,” I moaned as we left the stables.
“So will I,” Liam said reasonably.
“Okay, do you want lunch now?” I asked as we walked towards the car.
“I’m getting hungry,” he said, rubbing his firm stomach.
I had to look away because I so wanted to do that for him.
Starting the car, we drove to a popular picnic area. We walked with the wicker basket between us, each holding one of the handles, a perfect picture of domestic bliss.
“Okay, that looks like as good a place as any,” Liam said, pointing at an unoccupied picnic bench to his right.
We walked to the indicated spot and hoisted the basket onto the bench.
“Feels like you’ve bought half of Sainsbury’s,” he said, rubbing the arm that had been holding the basket.
“You big wuss. And it was Safeway.”
He treated me to another thosuand-watt smile. I sat down quickly to hide the reappearance of Mr Happy.
“Why are there no cucumber sandwiches?” Liam asked as I dished out the goodies.
I was about to tell him that I didn’t make any because cucumber always gave me wind, but then spotted the glint of mischief in his eyes.
“There were no cucumbers in the market this morning, sir. I went down twice,” I said.
“No cucumbers!”
“No, sir. Not even for ready money,” I came back.
We had been quoting lines from Oscar Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest, the play that had inspired my name.
We dissolved into laughter.
During the meal, I asked, “So, as your dad was such a fan of James Joyce, have you any Leopold’s, Molly’s or perhaps a Simon or a Stephen Dedalus in your family?”
He laughed. “One of my sisters is called Molly, but Mammy swears that’s because of Molly Malone.”
“Oh, right.” I smiled. “By the way, I don’t know your last name.”
“McAvoy.”
“Then here’s to you, Liam Ulysses McAvoy,” I said, raising my plastic glass of red wine.
“And here’s to you, Ernest Porter. Your middle name isn’t Worthing by any chance?” The sparkle in his eyes was back.
“No, I don’t have a middle name.”
We touched our glasses. Liam Ulysses McAvoy, oh the poetry in that name.
We spent much of the rest of the meal quoting lines from Wilde’s play to one another. I had a wonderful time, and judging by Liam’s happy expression, he did, too.
“Chocolate éclair?” I asked, taking the lid off a Tupperware box.
Liam accepted.
I’d actually thought about buying cream horns, but the innuendo would have been too uncomfortable for me to stand. When I looked up at Liam after he’d finished, I saw that he had a spot of cream on his top lip. It took all my willpower not to lean forward and lick it off his face. Instead I pointed to my own lip and said, “You missed a bit.”
“Thanks,” he said wiping it away. “When I was little, Mammy would have got a paper tissue from her handbag and licked the corner before dabbing at my face.”
Together we said the most famous line of the play, “A handbag?”
We dissolved in laughter, getting a few curious looks from the other picnickers. I couldn’t have cared less.
We sat for ages on that bench, but in Liam’s company the time seemed to fly by. I just felt so warm, comfortable and safe in his presence.
Eventually Liam said he needed the loo.
“Go behind a tree. There’s plenty to choose from.” I waved in the direction of the forest.
He blushed. I found his cute vulnerability so adorable.
“I’ll hold your hand if you like.” I would have to watch these slip-ups.
We left the basket on the bench and went into the woods together. We found a likely looking tree and I heard his zip go down. It was a super-human effort, but I resisted the temptation to look. Though the noise of his urine hitting the bark did little to quell my rising passions. I whipped out Mr Happy and emptied my own bladder. Once I heard his zip go back up, I felt it was safe to look at him again.
“I think we ought to get back to the picnic basket. I don’t want anyone walking off with it.”
“I’ll arrest them if they do.” Liam winked at me.
I laughed. I wondered, if I asked him nicely, if he’d handcuff me and…Down, Boy!
We returned to the picnic area. The basket was still on the table. Again we took a handle each and began walking. The basket was much lighter now. God, that man could put away his food. It was incredibly satisfying to see him eat. I never thought watching a man’s jaw masticating would be erotic, but Liam’s bottom jaw moving as he chewed was just so…You’ve got it bad, Ernest.
“There’s such a wide variety of trees here,” Liam said, looking around.
“Over fifty. The place is a haven for wild birds, too.” Warming to my theme, I continued, “Would you believe the forest has more than eighty artificial ponds and lakes?”
“You seem to know your stuff,” he said, turning to me.
“I’ve volunteered here a few times to do some forestry. It’s nice to get away from the hustle and bustle.”
“Sometimes I miss the peace and quiet of home,” he said, looking sad.
I didn’t feel I ought to pry, so I left him to his thoughts.
Getting back to the car, we hoisted the basket into the boot.
“Well, Constable McAvoy, we can walk to the hunting lodge from here if you’re up to it.”
“Sounds great.” He treated me to another face splitting grin.
As we made our way to the lodge, I began to tell Liam about some of the other forest creatures. “There’re more than five hundred rare and endangered insects in this place,” I said, swatting away a rather persistent fly.
“I see I’m in the presence of an expert.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to come across as an anorak.”
He reached over and gave my shoulder a squeeze. “You haven’t done that at all. I’m having a really wonderful day. Honestly I am.”
“Thanks, I am, too.” I didn’t trust myself to take that line of thought any further.
Liam gave me a gentle smile.
I decided to move onto safer topics. “You know, even though it’s known as the Elizabethan Hunting Lodge, it was originally built for King Henry VIII in 1543. Queen Elizabeth I was a keen hunter like her father.”
We chattered more as the lodge came into view.
Once inside, Liam insisted on seeing everything, asking me endless questions, only some of which I knew the answers to.
“You remember me mentioning Queen Elizabeth I?”
“Wasn’t she called the Virgin Queen?”
I laughed. “Supposedly. Well anyway, she was responsible for this brick chimney,” I said as we stood in front of said structure.
It was great to see the old building again. It was made even more pleasant because of Liam’s company.
“If these timbers could speak, I bet they’d have a tale to tell,” Liam said, patting one of the ancient beams.
“I know what you mean,” I said. “I think we ought to be making a move, though. They shut this place at four P.M.” I looked at my watch. “We’ll take a gentle stroll back to the car I think.”
Liam seemed disappointed.
“We can go the long way, if you like?”
His thousand-watt smile told me he thought my idea was a winner.
The only trouble was, the long way round turned out to be the very long way round.
“Do you think they have blokes who help out people who’ve got lost?” Liam asked when we’d been walking for a couple of hours.
“What, you mean, like policemen?”
I got another smile, but it was a little lazier now, he was obviously getting tired. Though the lazy look was, if anything, more appealing.
“Aha!” I said, spotting a signpost. “The car park is just ahead.”
First thing on reaching the car was refreshment. I took a swig from the bottle of lemonade, which, only moments earlier, had been touched by those beautiful lips of Liam’s.
Liam looked tired but content as he leant back in the passenger seat.
“Thanks for a great day,” he told me once I’d parked up outside the section house. “I think being in the woods meant we avoided some of the heat.”
“That’s one of the reasons why I decided to take you there.”
“It was a great idea.” He sighed. “Suppose I better get moving. I need to iron some shirts before tomorrow.” He gave my knee a quick squeeze before getting out of the car.
I watched his jeans-clad arse as it moved through the front door of his section house. I took a deep breath and drove home, unable to imagine a big strong bloke like Liam wielding an iron.
* * * *
Liam and I saw each other fairly frequently over the next few weeks. Although the frequency of the encounters were mainly due to me working out the route he took on his beat, so I’d accidentally on purpose come across him. He looked so sexy in his uniform as he helped little old ladies across the road, gave tourists directions, and that sort of thing. I’d often hang back and just watch his cat-like graceful movements as he flowed along the pavement.
