The Boy I Love

by Lynda Bellingham

  ‘Just a couple of bags,’ Eddie told him.

  ‘Very well, we will collect those and bring them to your room. Would you like me to park your car, sir? We have a car park at the back for residents.’

  ‘Yes, please.’ Eddie took Jeremy’s arm. ‘Come on, you. Just wait till you see this.’

  The butler stood back and let them pass, and then followed them inside.

  The place was like a film set, thought Jeremy. The hall was straight out of the television series Upstairs Downstairs. A graceful staircase led upwards from an original black and white tiled floor. A massive chandelier hung over the proceedings, the hundreds of crystal teardrops sparkling above them. But the most bizarre sight was of a huge gilt-framed portrait of the Queen, in her ceremonial robes, which hung above the fireplace to the right of the door.

  Jeremy could hardly stop himself from bursting into laughter. He tugged Eddie’s sleeve and pointed at the painting, sniggering, ‘You can’t be serious. That is outrageous! Our poor monarch would die if she knew she was presiding over a gay hotel in Manchester.’

  ‘Oh, never mind that. Come on, we need to sign in.’ Eddie skipped off down the corridor ahead.

  Jeremy dutifully followed him, and like Alice in Wonderland found himself in another world. The reception desk was vast and had once been mahogany, he guessed. Now, however, it had been gilded to within an inch of its life. It sat in a sea of deep red wallpaper and twinkling rococo fixtures and fittings. No one in this house had ever heard the expression ‘less is more’.

  The butler handed Jeremy a quill pen with peacock feathers and said, ‘Please fill in your details, sir. It is for two nights, I understand?’

  ‘Oh here, let me,’ said Eddie, taking over. Jeremy was still open-mouthed at his surroundings.

  ‘Shall I give you a credit card?’ added Eddie, taking out his wallet. ‘By the way, is George around yet?’ he enquired.

  ‘Not yet, sir, but he sent his regards and looks forward to seeing you later in the bar for a cocktail. Now would you care to follow me, please?’ The butler glided off towards the staircase, the two lovers in his wake.

  At the top of the stairs they turned left and stopped at the first door. Written on it in very elegant gold script was The Blue Room. The door opened to reveal a blue room indeed. It was like being in the centre of a Wedgwood plate! There was a roomy canopied double bed with silk sheets, and an enormous blue and gold eiderdown. Jeremy had not seen an eiderdown since he visited his granny as a schoolboy. The lampshades either side of the bed were blue and gold silk, and the wardrobe and dressing table had been painted Wedgwood blue with white trimmings, as were the walls and all the plasterwork. It was incredibly ornate. The butler opened the door to the bathroom to reveal a classic Victorian bathroom, with black and white tiles and a large free-standing slipper bath with all the brass fittings. The toilet had the obligatory mahogany seat, and the pull chain was a twisted rope of fine coloured silks, with a huge tassel to finish it off.

  The butler then explained where the fridge was hidden inside a tallboy, also painted blue and white. The matching TV looked most incongruous perched on top of the chest of drawers. Jeremy wondered what Josiah Wedgwood would have made of it!

  ‘If there is anything else you require, please do not hesitate to ring the bell,’ the butler said smoothly, and he indicated yet another bell-pull with the attendant tassel.

  ‘Thank you, that is fine,’ said Eddie, giving him a generous tip.

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ said the butler solemnly, then added with a wink and a wiggle, ‘Have fun, you guys.’

  Jeremy threw himself on the bed and let out a scream of delight. ‘Eddie, this is unbelievable! How did you know about this place?’

  Eddie was busy opening a bottle of champagne which had been left for them in a splendid silver bucket.

  ‘Ah, I have friends in high places. Or should I say low places,’ he laughed. ‘Here, let’s have a toast. To love at first sight.’ And they touched glasses with a very satisfactory ping from the crystal flûtes provided.

  ‘Everything is so over the top, yet somehow fits,’ remarked Jeremy. ‘Who owns it?’

  ‘A lovely man called George Delaware. He and his partner Dale have been here for yonks. I don’t really know the details, but apparently George used to be a bit of a gangster in the old days – part of the Manchester mafia. Did you know that in the fifties and early sixties, George Raft – an actor and alleged gang member in America – came over to Manchester to see if there was room for his lot up here, and they were sent packing by the good old northerners, who had their own mafia, thank you very much, and didn’t need the likes of the Americans to help them make their millions. George told me all this once when I was here.’

  Eddie took a swig of champagne then put down his glass and turned to his lover. ‘Now, Mr Sinclair, I require you to make slow passionate love to me before dinner.’

  And Jeremy was only too happy to oblige.

  The rest of the afternoon and early evening were spent making love or drinking champagne. Jeremy decided to try the bath and lay up to his neck in bubbles. There was an extraordinary array of toiletries in the bathroom and he was determined to work his way through the lot. While he was soaking, Eddie watched TV or came into the bathroom to annoy his lover with attempts to seduce him.

  ‘Leave me alone! I can’t take any more!’ cried Jeremy.

  ‘Oh really? I don’t believe that for a minute.’ And Eddie whipped off his clothes and joined him beneath the bubbles. After several of these forays Jeremy finally managed to finish his bath and get ready for the night ahead.

  ‘What exactly do you have in store for me?’ he asked delightedly. Eddie was proving to be full of surprises and all of them good, so far.

  ‘Well, we will have drinks with George, then dinner in the restaurant, and then we will adjourn to the club next door, which is also part of the hotel and owned by George. So basically, we do not have to stray far to take our pleasure,’ grinned Eddie. ‘Pretty clever, don’t you think, Mr J? Everything close at hand.’

  ‘It is wonderful. You are wonderful. But you still haven’t told me how you knew about this place,’ said Jeremy.

  Eddie looked at him for a minute and then seemed to make a decision. He sighed and said, ‘My father has several queer friends. Obviously it is not something he wants to advertise and my mother does not allow them at the house.’ Jeremy was about to interrupt but Eddie stopped him. ‘Yes, I know what you are going to say, J – that she is a bigot and that it is not for her to judge people, et cetera. Unfortunately, the world is a cruel place, and people are ignorant and bigoted, including my mother. When you think it has only been since 1967 that homosexuality was made legal. That is a mere fifteen years ago, Jeremy, and it is still a big thing for a lot of people. You are lucky because you work in a profession where people don’t care about things like that. Well, obviously there are a lot of queers in the theatrical profession, which helps, but in the big world outside there is still a great deal of prejudice. My father has started a campaign against discrimination of homosexuals, but it is a real uphill struggle and none of his so-called ‘posh’ friends want to know.’

  ‘Is your father a homo then?’ asked Jeremy. Eddie paused very briefly before he answered.

  ‘No, definitely not – which makes it incredibly difficult for me. I mean, how can I tell him I am queer?’ There was a catch in Eddie’s voice and Jeremy took his hand.

  ‘In fact, I don’t think I will ever be able to be open about it, Jeremy. Well, certainly not in my family circles. I am expected to marry, and have an heir to carry on the Graham title. I have seen it with some of my father’s friends. They are really queer but all married. I have seen them here in this hotel, but no one says anything. You wouldn’t believe it in this day and age, but there is still a terrible stigma about being homosexual.’

  Jeremy took Eddie in his arms and held him close. ‘Come on, mate,’ he said tenderly. ‘Don’t get upset. You have
a friend in me now, and we will sort it out. Meanwhile, you have promised me a good time, so let’s go and get a few cocktails inside us then we won’t care about anything.’ They kissed passionately and almost succumbed to their growing lust but broke away laughing, promising each other to save it all for later.

  When they arrived in the bar it was already buzzing. Unlike a normal cocktail bar in a small hotel where couples sit discreetly chatting in whispers, here the conversation was loud and frequently interspersed with whoops of delight and screeches of laughter.

  The barman was naked except for a jockstrap and a black bow tie. Jeremy could hardly contain himself and each new revelation was fuel to the fire. He wanted to be shocked or surprised. He certainly had had no idea that hotels like this existed. He was still wrestling with his feelings for Eddie which had sprung from nowhere seemingly. What would his father think, he wondered, if he announced he was queer? His father enjoyed comics like Larry Grayson, but just dismissed them in general as ‘poofs’. Did his dad even know what a homosexual was? He had never had a conversation with his parents about things like this. It had been bad enough when his father brought up the subject of sex and ‘taking precautions’. Jeremy had begged him not to continue, assuring him that they did all this kind of stuff at school and he really did not have to bother. Even at school no one mentioned homosexuality as such. There was gossip about a boy who had just joined their class from a private school where there had been a big scandal about abuse. But all that meant to Jeremy and his mates was that a teacher had been a paedophile. Even this expression was not totally clear to them. Girls got flashed at by dirty old men, so the assumption was it must be the same dirty old men who did whatever they did to girls and boys. But it was not regarded as anything to do with their take on life in general. Certainly not a life choice a young man might make.

  ‘Jeremy, did you hear me?’ Eddie’s voice cut through his musings.

  ‘Sorry, I was miles away. What did you say?’

  ‘Would you like to try the house cocktail? I am assured by this charming barman that it is excellent.’ Eddie gave the barman his most alluring smile and it occurred to Jeremy that he might have been flirting with him. He felt a flash of unease. Jeremy was discovering emotions he had never felt before. So maybe this ‘unease’ might better be described as jealousy. This was certainly not an emotion he wanted to feel too often.

  He shook himself mentally then turned to Eddie and said, ‘Yes, a cocktail would be lovely. This bar is pretty amazing.’

  The bar was not large but it felt womb-like as the walls were a dark pink flock with the ubiquitous wall lights and drapes of silk where necessary. The bar was mirrored glass, and mirrors lined the wall behind it so customers sitting in the cubicles were reflected in them, doubling the amount of people, which made the room feel even fuller. Everything glowed in a pink light. Life was rosy!

  ‘Good evening, you young things.’ The voice told a tale of cigarettes and red wine and late nights.

  ‘George, how lovely to see you.’ Eddie jumped off his bar stool and embraced the man in front of him. Jeremy thought he was pretty impressive. He was tall, over six feet, and broad in the shoulders. He had a fine head of black hair but the black was out of a bottle and rather overused, Jeremy decided. The man was dressed in a dark red velvet smoking jacket with a white shirt underneath sporting a large frill down the front. He had black trousers and what appeared to be velvet mocassins with a coat of arms in gold thread sewn on the fronts.

  ‘So this is Jeremy,’ said the deep throaty voice. ‘Pleased to meet you.’ Jeremy took the outstretched hand and shook it. The hand was big and warm, and the handshake almost painfully strong.

  ‘Great to meet you, George. Eddie has been telling me some fantastic stories about you.’

  George looked at Eddie and then back to Jeremy and lowered his voice to say, ‘Hopefully not too many stories – always better to keep things close to the chest. Careless talk costs lives, as they used to say during the war.’ He paused for a fraction of a second and then burst into laughter. ‘Only kidding, chuck, only kidding. My bad boy days are long gone.’

  Jeremy was not so sure, and had the distinct feeling that he would not want to cross Mr Delaware. However, it was smiles all round now and the drinks flowed. Jeremy explained to George some of his life as an actor and invited him and Dale to come to the first night of Hamlet.

  ‘We’ll see,’ said George. ‘Dale is not very good at sitting still for long. You’ll meet him later – he is DJ tonight in the club. He loves it, up and down like a sailor on shore leave. Well, my pretty babies, I am going to leave you to have your dinner, and then maybe we can meet up later with Dale for a nightcap. Have a good night and be happy, boys.’ He kissed them both farewell and drifted off to a table of screaming queens who were obviously regular guests of the hotel.

  Eddie and Jeremy adjourned to the restaurant which was yet another fantasy of colour and bad taste. This time it was about black walls and lamps that hung from the ceiling above each table, creating a pool of light by which to eat. However, it was incredibly difficult to see anything and Jeremy got quite hysterical with laughter as he peered through the darkness trying to talk to Eddie.

  ‘Stop it, J, you will offend our host. It is supposed to be very atmospheric,’ said Eddie, trying very hard to read the menu.

  ‘It is certainly that – to the point of being almost stratospheric.’ Jeremy groped for Eddie’s leg under the table. ‘Very good for touching up your date though, which I guess is what it is all about really.’

  Eddie giggled and moved closer to Jeremy and they spent dinner behaving outrageously under the table. It added a whole new meaning to the words ‘table manners’.

  ‘God – if my parents could see me now they would disown me,’ said Jeremy, stuffing his face with avocado dip. ‘Have you eaten here before?’ He was beginning to think that Eddie had been living this life for quite a while.

  ‘Only once, with a friend from school,’ Eddie replied. ‘But nothing romantic like this.’ He leaned across the table and licked some dip off Jeremy’s cheek. ‘Can’t wait for the strawberries and cream,’ he whispered.

  Jeremy had another pang of unease. Something made him think that Eddie was telling him what he knew Jeremy wanted to hear. But he brushed aside the still small voice of suspicion. After all, what did the past matter? This was now, and he knew that Eddie was in love with him and they would be together for ever. This was his destiny. It was meant to be.

  By the time they had finished dinner both of them were very tipsy. They arrived back at the cocktail bar to find George and friends equally well oiled.

  ‘Here they are, love’s young dream,’ announced George to the table. ‘Boys, meet my Dale,’ and he practically shoved poor Dale in front of them for inspection. He was not at all what Jeremy had imagined, if indeed he had imagined anyone at all, but it certainly would not have been anywhere close to the vision in front of them. Dale was tall and elegant as a willow, with long blond hair nearly to his shoulders. He had piercing blue eyes, and very defined cheekbones. He was like a model, thought Jeremy.

  ‘Hi, pleased to meet you,’ said Dale in a soft voice, almost lisping. ‘I hear you are coming to the club later. I will play a song for you if you tell me what you would like to hear.’ He lifted a long delicate hand to his face and brushed some hair from his eyes. Then he turned and pranced off like a race horse.

  ‘Don’t mind Dale,’ said George. ‘I told you he can’t keep still. Now sit yourselves down and have some of this champagne.’

  They sat down and introduced themselves to the rest of the table. Eddie seemed to be in his element, and entertained them all with jokes and stories for the next hour. The irony was not lost on Jeremy, who for all his training as an actor, now felt completely useless. Yet somehow it didn’t matter. His ego did not feel threatened and he was happy to bask in his lover’s reflected glory. He was on a high, not just from the champagne, but from Eddie’s attention.
He had never felt so complete as a man. He just wanted to spend every minute with this guy and feel his energy inside him. He was lost to the world that night. When they got to the club Jeremy danced for hours. He gave himself to the thudding bass beat and just let rip. He had never really danced in his life, and he made Eddie laugh with his attempts at Disco dancing. There were bodies all around him and he could feel their heat. Different men passed by, and would kiss him or touch him up as they danced past. He loved the attention and yet always looked for Eddie for assurance. Eddie was equally busy moving around the dance floor flirting and touching up dancers. The two of them danced with another boy for quite a long time. It got very steamy and there was talk of going back to the room for a threesome, but Jeremy suddenly got cold feet and backed off. Eddie danced him into a corner and kissed him passionately.

  ‘Don’t fret, J, you are the only thing in my life now. We don’t have to have any diversions or side orders if you don’t want them. I am happy with just you and me. Let’s go back to the room now and make love all night. Come on, you gorgeous man, I am feeling so randy!’

  Jeremy was so drunk by this time he could not have done anything much in the way of dancing or flirting. When they got to their room he fell across the bed and passed out. The next thing he knew, Eddie was undressing him very slowly and whispering in his ear, ‘You are gorgeous and wonderful and useless and drunk, but I love you, Jeremy Sinclair. Just get your clothes off and you will soon feel better because you will be feeling me beside you.’

  Jeremy giggled and freed his foot from his trousers and made a grab for Eddie who rolled away off the bed and out of reach.

  ‘That’s more like my J. There is hope for you yet. OK, I am going to take my clothes off now, and then we will see who is too drunk to screw.’