by Drew Hunt
I will admit the first time I laid eyes on Liam it was his body that had me in serious lust. However, after spending time with him, I began to appreciate the kind, gentle and warm soul that was beneath the hunky exterior.
What started out as lust quickly turned into love. But it seemed that it would be love of the unrequited kind. I was faced with the age-old gay man’s dilemma. Should I keep Liam as a straight friend, could I keep Liam as a straight friend? Or should I risk coming out to him in the hopes of gaining so much more, but with the real risk of losing what I already had? It was a dilemma that was keeping me awake at nights. I wasn’t eating properly, and I was losing weight with the worry of it all.
I decided I needed some advice. As the oven was still as unresponsive to my questions as ever, I turned to my gay sisters. Timothy was perhaps the most sensitive and the most in tune with my moods of any of my circle of friends. He’d had the pleasure of being with Robert, his partner for nearly thirty years. Unfortunately, Robert had a heart defect that no one knew about, and one evening when Robert climbed the stairs, he had a massive heart attack. The doctors told Timothy that Robert would have been dead before he hit the floor, and wouldn’t have known a thing. It took Timothy a long while to build up his life again, but he’d done it.
It came as little surprise that when Timothy took one look at me as I stood on his doorstep, he said, “Oh dear, you have got it bad.”
Over a pot of Earl Grey I told him the whole tale. Or rather the tale of the hole.
“There’s one thing for certain, sweetheart. You can’t go on like you’re doing. It’s making you ill,” Timothy said, squeezing my hand.
I had to agree. Timothy had warned me of the possible dangers of coming out to Liam, but he admitted it was probably my only hope of keeping my sanity.
So, with a course of action agreed upon, I left Timothy’s elegantly appointed dwelling and went home.
* * * *
I arranged to meet Liam in the park for lunch, telling him I’d supply the sandwiches. He’d complained that I always brought the food, but after I’d asked him if he had the facilities to make up sandwiches, he was forced to concede he didn’t. He also said he was totally hopeless in the kitchen.
I sat on a partially shaded park bench, awaiting my fate. Fortunately I didn’t have to wait long.
“’Ello, ’ello, ’ello,” he said, bending his knees, his customary wide grin plastered on his face.
However, I was so perturbed, I barely smiled in return.
“What is it, Ernest? You’ve been distracted for the past week now,” he said, sitting down next to me and giving my knee a squeeze.
“I know,” I said quietly, handing over his food. “Listen, Liam, I’ve got something I need to tell you. It’s been eating away at me for a while now, and if I don’t tell you, I fear I’ll go mad.”
“You’re not ill, are you?” he asked, his face a mask of concern.
“No, though some people might think I am.”
He looked confused.
“Look, Liam, I’m going to tell you something, and then I’m going to have a walk round the lake, and then I’ll come back here. Well, in fact I’m going to tell you two things. If you can’t accept what I tell you, then, please, while I’m gone, please, just go, and I promise I won’t ever bother you again.”
He looked totally confused, and more than a little upset. “I don’t understand.”
“You will.” I swallowed and looked down. I couldn’t meet his eyes. “Okay, here we go. Number one, I’m gay.” Feeling my voice beginning to weaken, I hurried on. “And number two, Liam, I’m sorry, I’ve tried to fight it…God knows I have, but I’m totally, hopelessly, and completely in love with you. Now I’m going for that walk.”
The bench was set back from the lake somewhat, nestling in some shrubbery. I took the few steps needed to gain the path that went round the little lake, then started to circumnavigate it. I’d estimated it would take me around ten minutes if I walked slowly. I was in no hurry to get back. Timothy had told me Liam might need time to process the revelation of his friend being gay. Therefore, we’d hatched this plan of me telling Liam, and then taking myself off for a few minutes. If Liam couldn’t accept what I was, he had the option of saving himself the embarrassment of telling me that he didn’t feel the same way.
I knew my ten minutes of walking were almost up. I’d slowed down my steps as much as I could to put off the awful moment of my return, but here was the final bit of tall shrubbery which separated me from my fate. I rounded the overgrown bush, and there was the bench. It was empty.
Liam had obviously decided he couldn’t face the prospect of having a gay friend who was in love with him. I held in my pain—it wasn’t easy—but there was no way I was going to break down in public. I turned on my heel and fled with as much dignity as I could muster, cursing myself with every step that I should have kept my mouth shut.
I walked down my street, saw the shiny new manhole cover which had marked the start of my undoing, then it was up the front steps, and after unlocking the door, I was safe.
Running into the front room, I buried my face in the overstuffed cushions on the sofa. I wailed out my anguish, stupidity, and deep sense of sadness that my hoped-for dreams of building a life together with a beautiful, redheaded copper had come to naught.
“Why, Liam? It’s not fair…it’s just not fucking fair. I love you, I’d have made you as happy as any man could ever wish to be. I would have adored you, cherished you, and put you up on a pedestal and worshiped you.”
I ran the full gamut of emotions, from sadness to anger, from relief that at least he now knew, to resignation that I was still alone in the world.
I switched on the radio, hoping to find some music that would allow me to escape and lose myself. My favourite classical station was playing an excerpt from Verdi’s Requiem. That didn’t suit my mood, so I returned to the local all news station.
“We are still unclear as to the precise details, Mike.” It sounded like an outside broadcaster speaking to the anchorman back in the studio.
“Okay, thanks, Ron, please keep us informed. To reiterate for listeners who have just tuned in, there was a robbery at the Brimley Road branch of the Worcester and West Country Bank about half an hour ago. All we know at the moment is that two gunshots were fired, and the lone gunman made off in a black saloon car, an eye-witness believed the get away vehicle was a Saab, but he was unable to provide any further details. It’s believed two people, one of whom is a uniformed policeman, were seriously injured. We don’t have any further details at this time. In other news…”
I didn’t hear anymore. The bank was on the high street, and the injured policeman could quite easily be Liam.
“Nooo!” I yelled. Lane, who had settled himself on my knee, fled.
Despite the hot weather, I felt a cold chill flow over me. I began to shake uncontrollably.
I remained on that sofa for what seemed like hours. The radio was still on, but I didn’t hear a word. I just sat there praying to God, the Virgin Mary, Jesus Christ, the angels, any heavenly power that would listen. “I don’t care if he can’t love me. Just please don’t let it be Liam, please don’t let it be Liam, please don’t let it be Liam.” The words became a mantra.
I must have drifted into a trance. Dimly, as if from a great distance, I heard the doorknocker give a few sharp raps. I was tempted just to leave it, they’d soon go away when they realised there was no one at home, but I’d developed an in-built Pavlovian reaction to such things, and before I knew it, I had my hand on the Yale lock, opening the door.
“Ernest!” Liam threw himself through the open door and wrapped me up in his arms. I was too stunned to do anything. “Oh, Ernest. I’m sorry, I’m so desperately sorry. I heard an urgent shout, and I had to respond. There wasn’t time to tell you I had to leave, but I got here as soon as I could, honestly I did.”
He continued to hug me tightly to him. I was in a whirlwind of emotions. I th
ought I’d never see him again, I didn’t even know if he was still alive.
“Have you got any whiskey? I need a drink, it’s been a bitch of a day,” he said, looking straight into my eyes.
“It’s only Scotch, not Irish,” I replied. What a bloody stupid thing to say, but my mind wasn’t exactly functioning properly.
“That’ll do fine.” He let me out of his arms and followed me into the front room.
I tipped three fingers worth of the amber liquid into a glass for him and poured myself a similar measure, too. He was sitting on the sofa, Lane rubbing against his legs when I came back from the kitchen after adding ice to the glasses.
“Thanks.” He downed about half the glass in one go. “I needed that.”
The radio was still chattering away. I reached over and turned it off from my position in the armchair opposite him.
“So, you’ve heard about the robbery, then?”
I nodded.
“I didn’t know the copper who got shot. He wasn’t from my station.”
I wanted to tell him I was relieved it hadn’t been him, I wanted to ask him why he was here, what his reactions were to my earlier coming out performance, and a thousand other things. But I just sat there, silently nursing my drink.
Liam took another swallow of his whisky before setting the glass down and began to move his cap through his fingers. Lane, not appreciating being ignored, stalked off.
“There’s something I need to tell you. I’d have done it by the lake earlier, but…well…you know,” he said, looking over at me. “For a long time I’ve wondered if there was something wrong with me. I’ve always thought myself a bit different from the people around me. It’s always been a bit strange…sometimes I thought I was being a snob, but it wasn’t that.”
His gaze seemed to drift off then.
A couple of minutes passed before Liam said, “When I was a lad back in Ireland, there was a girl who lived on the next farm over. Louise her name was. She was a good friend to me. Probably the only friend I had really. Growing up on a farm you soon realise where babies come from. Sex wasn’t something that was ever hidden from us. So, being the natural curious lad that I was, me and Louise had sex.”
My heart sank again. I wasn’t sure I could cope with this, but I was frozen in place; I just couldn’t get my limbs to cooperate to get me out of there.
“The Republic of Ireland being the Catholic country that it is, it’s not easy to get hold of contraceptives. Louise thought it was her safe time, so we did the deed when her parents had gone into town with mine for the day.
“We only did it the once.” He shook his head. “It was nothing special. I’d remembered all the boys at school would boast about getting their ends away, but it did little for me.
“It turned out it wasn’t Louise’s ‘safe time’, and, within a couple of months, she told me she was pregnant.” Liam swallowed the last of his drink. “Of course it isn’t easy to hide such a thing, and you can’t get an abortion out there, you have to come over to England for that. Louise’s family told mine that we’d have to get married. They began all the preparations, the church was booked, the invitations sent out and everything. It was all moving too fast for me. I was only twenty at the time, and I didn’t want to get married. So I told Louise I couldn’t go ahead with it. It caused a right stink I can tell you.
“The only way out for me, as far as I could see, was to leave town. I have an uncle who lives in Kent, so I travelled over the water and went to live with him. I knew I had to get out, I didn’t love Louise, and I didn’t think I ever could. Uncle Frank got me a job with the Metropolitan Police, and for the past eleven years I’ve been a copper. I send money home to Louise and Eamonn, but I’ve never been back.”
I was surprised Liam didn’t have any contact with his son, although of course I knew nothing of how well such contact would be received if it was requested.
Before I could ask, Liam continued, “I buried myself in work, to try to hide who I am.” He smiled. “And I thought I’d made a pretty good job of it until one Saturday about three months ago when I was guarding a missing manhole cover and a man came bowling along in his endearingly uncoordinated fashion, and turned my world upside down.” He sighed, looked over at me and said, “Ernest, what I’m telling you in this stupidly roundabout and hopelessly verbose way, and believe me I’m so sorry you’ve had to wait so long to hear it, but as far as I know, I’m gay, and I’m totally in love with you.”
From the depths of despair to the heights of elation is quite some journey. I just sat there doing a pretty good goldfish impression.
“You mean, you mean, you like me too?” I eventually said.
Liam patted the sofa cushion next to him, and I had my bum on that spot almost before he’d moved his hand away.
“It’s more than liking you. Ever since we first met, I’ve not been able to get you out of my head. There are probably several criminals who are still at large now because of my inattention. Now, enough talking. Will you let me kiss you?”
I just nodded, and his gorgeous face came closer to mine. Our lips engaged. Of course I’d been kissed before, but this, this experience was simply off the scale. Fireworks and choirs of angels swam through my head. Being the natural submissive that I am, I soon opened my mouth and his tongue came inside and had a pretty good feel round. My dick was the only part of my body that was hard; the rest of me was as limp as a week old lettuce.
“I’m certain now,” Liam said once our mouths had separated.
“Huh?” I said in my befuddled and breathless state.
Liam got off the sofa and knelt in front of me. “Ernest, my beautiful, sweet, vulnerable Ernest. I was always taught that being gay was one of the most despicable things imaginable. A sin against God, a freak of nature, an abomination. I didn’t think I was any of those things, nor was I like the effeminate people you see on the TV. So I told myself I wasn’t gay. But being with you, talking to you, and just now kissing you, it’s the most wonderful thing in the world. And if enjoying those things makes me gay, then that’s what I am.”
He then rose, wrapped his oh so strong arms around me, and we sucked face some more.
We must have spent a couple of hours sitting on that sofa, talking, crying, and of course, kissing. I realised my world just hadn’t been complete without this man in it. Then I thought about the last man who had gotten under my defences, and I stiffened.
“What is it?” Liam asked softly.
“You’ve told me about your past. It’s only fair I should tell you about mine.” I rubbed at my itchy nose. “Like I told you I had a job in the city. It’s quite a high-pressure place, and as well as working hard, we tended to play hard, too. I once was at a party given by a friend. More of a work acquaintance really. One of the people there was an American…on a student exchange programme. He was studying political science at The London School of Economics. We got chatting, one thing lead to another, and Bradley eventually moved in here with me.
“Bradley was quite a dominant man. Although maybe I prefer to be the bottom, I had absolutely no choice when it came to sex with him. He owned me heart and soul, and by God he knew it. Yes, he told me that he loved me, but he’d never bring up the subject, he’d only ever tell me if I’d just told him that I loved him.
“We were together for just over two years while he was at the LSE. About a week after his finals ended, I came home armed with a load of food. I was going to cook him a nice meal to celebrate him getting through his exams. Waiting for me on the kitchen table was that Dear John letter I once told you about.” I began to tremble.
“It’s all right. You don’t need to tell me.”
“I do. I need to. Basically, in the letter he thanked me for all the food. He thanked me for putting him up. He never paid rent, and of course I didn’t want him to. He ended the letter by saying that he didn’t love me, he had a girlfriend in the States who he was going back to.”
“The bastard!” Liam said, his
muscles tensing.
“Believe me, I’ve been far more inventive in my vocabulary than that. All this happened about eleven years ago. Probably about the time you were leaving Ireland, I guess. Since that time I’ve lived here alone, not trusting myself to get near anyone, just in case they hurt me. I almost didn’t survive. If it wasn’t for my friends, I’d have probably thrown myself off Tower Bridge or something.”
Liam continued to hold me. “No one will ever hurt you again. I’ll make sure they don’t.”
* * * *
Within a couple of months of that eventful day, Liam agreed to move in with me. He said he’d wanted to move in that same night, but he wouldn’t ever bring up the subject because he didn’t want me to think of him as another Bradley. I’d known from the start he was no Bradley.
So, he took an afternoon off work, and we moved all his stuff. He didn’t have a lot, though his set of weights took up a whole carload on its own.
We went back to the section house one last time to do a final check, and for Liam to hand in his key. Then it was on to the station where Liam handed in the paperwork informing the force of his change of address. Then he drove my car to our house. He pulled up at the curb, but told me to stay where I was. I complied; he walked round the car, came over to the passenger side and opened the door for me. I stepped out onto the pavement and mounted the few steps to the front door, opening it with my key. He held my arm, preventing me from entering.
“Oh no, you don’t,” his soft but commanding Irish voice said. “I’m going to carry you over that threshold.”
So saying, he took me up in his strong arms. With a gentleness that belied his strength, he carried me into the house, closing the door behind us with his foot.
THE END
Something About Trevor
Chapter 1
“I’ve got a spare room,” Trevor said, shimmying up to the lunch table.
