“It’s not that I don’t want to be with you. I do. It’s just… I don’t want to lose my freedom. I don’t want to feel trapped and crowded. Don’t want to end up like Mum did, giving up everything she could’ve been to be with my dad. Sorry. I just wish—”
The call for dinner echoed up the stairwell, and they both jumped.
“Shit! Better get cleaned up. We can’t go into dinner like this.” Dan reached out awkwardly to massage Robin’s shoulder. “Come on. We’ll never survive your mum’s disapproval if we dare to be late.” He pressed a kiss to Robin’s crown.
Robin heaved a deep sigh, nodded and gave him a tight smile.
It was a reprieve, but Dan knew he’d be kidding himself if he thought of it as anything other than temporary.
Chapter Thirty-One
Dan watched Rosemary closely as she opened his present to her and Edward.
“Oh, Dan! Thank you so much, darling. Look Edward, doesn’t Robin look handsome on his boat?”
Edward Hamilton took the framed photograph and studied it for what felt like hours. Dan’s stomach refused to settle. He wasn’t sure why he wanted the man’s approval so much, but perhaps it was something to do with regaining a bit of Robin’s respect after the mess he’d made of things the previous day. Robin had been guarded ever since their discussion, but maybe Dan could charm himself back into his good graces, with the help of his family.
When Edward finally looked up, he had a smile on his face. “It’s very striking. The way you’ve captured my boy’s determination and independence.” He shot his son an approving look. Robin’s eyes widened with amazement, and Edward turned to his wife. “You know, I’ve always fancied the idea of a boating holiday. We should take one next year. Maybe stop by and visit Robin on his boat. What do you say, dearest?”
Perhaps it was the result of having been on the red wine all day, but Rosemary gave him the most genuine smile Dan had ever seen her use.
“Oh, darling, that sounds wonderful! But please tell me we can hire one with all the mod cons. I hear you can get them with Jacuzzis these days.”
Dan almost laughed at Robin’s expression. Shock mingled with pride and embarrassment. He reached out to give Robin’s hand a quick squeeze before handing him his own present.
Robin tackled the paper carefully, as if he was savouring every moment of the experience. Dan had spent a stupid amount of money on a charcoal woollen coat for him. It was utterly plain, incredibly warm, and the sales assistant in the boutique assured him that wool stayed warm even when wet. Robin looked up from the open package with wide eyes and a soft smile.
“Thank you,” he breathed.
Dan tried not to look smug. “Better try it on. Make sure it fits properly.”
Robin turned slowly at Rosemary’s insistence. The coat fitted perfectly, and while it was smart, it didn’t look out of place over his combat trousers.
“Oh, that’s perfect,” Rosemary said, smiling fondly. “You’re such a thoughtful young man. Robin, you make sure you thank Dan properly for that.”
His back to Rosemary, Robin rolled his eyes. “Thank you, Dan.”
“You can kiss him, you know, darling. No one’s going to mind.”
Dan saw Robin shoot a doubtful glance at his dad, who seemed utterly absorbed in the photograph all of a sudden. Miranda and Pat were busy cooing over the baby. But Robin did walk over to him and leant down to press a kiss to his lips. It wasn’t until the contact ceased that Dan realised he’d been holding his breath. Then the flash blinded him.
“Oh bother! I missed it.” Rosemary held the camera in front of her and squinted at it. “Oops, left the lens cap on. Can you do that again please, boys?”
“Mum!” Robin whirled around, and Dan tried his hardest not to snigger. “You can’t… Why are you… That’s private!”
“Nonsense, darling. I have plenty of photos of Miranda and Pat kissing.” She gestured over to the mantelpiece. Now that Dan noticed, there were indeed many photos of couples kissing, including some black-and-white prints of a very young Rosemary and Edward. “Now come on. Let’s have a nice shot of the two of you together. Something I can show the ladies at the bridge club when they ask me about when you’ll be settling down and getting married.”
“I’m not performing for you so you can laugh about me with your friends.”
“Who said anything about laughing? Darling, I’m proud of you. I want to show them all that I’m not ashamed of who you are.” Dan and Robin both gaped at her. Dan had to make a quick mental readjustment of his idea of Rosemary.
Robin looked lost, poor thing. Must be hard having to deal with the idea that his mum wasn’t the narrow-minded conservative he’d always had her down as. Rosemary put down her wineglass and rose on unsteady feet to give him a hug.
“Now, come on. Dan, you stand next to him. If you won’t kiss, then at least let me have a shot of you with your arms around each other’s shoulders. That’s it.”
Dan let himself be arranged into a pleasing pose and turned to smile at Robin. Robin still looked confused, but as their eyes made contact, he seemed to relax, giving a small smile.
“That’s lovely,” Rosemary cooed. “Hold that pose!”
They did as they were told while she snapped away, and eventually, Robin leaned over and kissed him again. Dan closed his eyes, and Rosemary crowed with happiness. She quietened down when Robin deepened the kiss, holding Dan tight.
When they came up for air, Rosemary was necking her wine and making a point of not looking at them, the camera sitting on the table with the lens cap back on. Robin had a cheeky smile on his face. Dan wondered if he should be keeping score between mother and son. Whatever. It didn’t matter. It felt good to be accepted into this family. He trampled down his guilt over yesterday’s unresolved argument.
They continued unwrapping the gifts from under the tree. Robin handed out his gifts with flushed cheeks, then sat, staring at his hands.
Dan hefted the gift. It was solid and not too large. He had absolutely no idea what it could be. The shape was somewhat phallic, but he was fairly sure Robin wouldn’t have handed him anything embarrassing to unwrap in front of his family. Robin looked nervous but not mischievous. Dan carefully undid the string and unwrapped the paper. He noted the lack of sellotape—that was so Robin. Perfectly neat and precise. Always doing things the authentic, old-fashioned way.
It was a wooden boat. Dan gasped, picking it up and running his fingertips over the smooth grain. It wasn’t a perfect replica, but more the idea of a boat—all sleek lines and graceful curves. The pale wood had a soft sheen, and it felt like it had been waxed. He turned it over and found “RH” carved into the bottom.
“You made this? When?” It was hard to believe that Robin’s hands could have carved something so beautiful. Dan knew he was a talented carpenter, but this was art, not craft.
“I’ve had plenty of long winter evenings alone on the boat.” Robin cast a worried glance at Dan. “Do you like it?”
Dan squeezed Robin’s hand. “I love it. Thank you.” He wanted to pull him into a hug, but Robin’s family were all waiting to thank him for their own carvings, their faces mirroring Dan’s awe.
He’d thank Robin properly when he got him on his own.
Robin awoke on the morning of the twenty-seventh, and a crushing weight settled on his chest. Dan would be leaving, and they wouldn’t see each other for a month. The memory of their argument sank heavy inside him. If Dan wasn’t willing to move in with him, then what hope did they have in the longer term? Paranoia threaded its way through his thoughts, painting images of Tristan—svelte and oozing confidence—stealing Dan away from him in some tropical paradise. He’d never met the man, but he’d seen the photos. Tristan had the kind of face the cameras adored—all planes and angles, pouting lips and challenging gaze. Apparently Tris had turned down a modelling career to pursue his dream of being a dancer—a piece of information Dan offered that was supposed to illustrate what a great, down-to-
earth guy Tris was, but which had only ended up making Robin hate the bloke with a passion.
Robin lay on his side, watching Dan sleep. He wanted to wake him with a caress, to tip them both into that ecstatic state when nothing else mattered outside of their sweat-slicked bodies moving together. Even now, feeling like this, the sight of Dan aroused him more than he would ever have imagined possible.
But he lay there, his erection subsiding, delaying the inevitable moment of waking Dan. Of seeing his eyes open with affection, but not that deeper feeling Robin craved. He thought he’d seen it there, but he must have been mistaken. Dan had made it clear that he wasn’t about to give his heart. He wasn’t even about to cohabit.
It must have been Robin’s sigh that woke Dan.
“Hey,” Dan said, snuggling closer and groping him in that lazy way he always did on waking. “Hey, what’s the matter?”
Robin had no words. He turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling.
“Come on. You can tell me. It can’t be that bad.”
He took a deep breath. “You’re going away, and you don’t want to live with me, and I…I don’t know how we can have a future together.” He didn’t feel any better for voicing his thoughts, and now his eyes prickled dangerously. He blinked and bit hard on his lip.
“Oh. That.”
In his peripheral vision, Robin saw Dan prop himself up on his elbow.
“I want to be with you,” Dan said, stroking Robin’s chest. “I don’t think I can make more of a commitment than that right now, but it’s a lot for me.”
“I need more.”
It was Dan’s turn to sigh now. “Well then, we’re bloody well stuck. What do you want to do about it?”
“I don’t know. Can’t stand feeling like this, though.”
“Like what?”
“Like I love you and you won’t give me anything back.” Robin’s voice shook dangerously. “Like you’re going off with Tristan and I’ll never see you again.”
“He’s not a threat to us. Really. Nothing’s going to happen between us now. Listen…” Dan trailed off, and Robin risked a quick glance at him. Dan’s brow was scrunched up, and he looked scared. He continued in a cautious tone. “You remember the day before Christmas Eve? I went out on the lash with him? Well, I got a bit carried away at one point. I kissed him, but that was it. We stopped it there.”
Robin sat up straight and glared at Dan. “You fucking what?”
“No, you don’t need to be pissed off. I’m telling you that we didn’t do anything. Could have, but didn’t.”
Robin couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “And that’s supposed to reassure me? That you fucking well snogged him when you were drunk? And now you’re going off to some resort full of bars and hot men wearing next to nothing? Well, you’ll excuse me if I don’t go leaping for joy just because you didn’t shag Tristan that time. It’s not like you won’t get plenty of chances over the next month.”
Dan shrank down and bunched the quilt up in his fists. “I’m sorry, I’m… Shit, this was meant to make you feel better. I don’t know what to say.”
Robin’s anger flared hard and bright. “Then don’t say anything! There’s nothing you can fucking well say to make things any better right now.” He ignored Dan’s reaching arms, and got out of the bed. “I’m taking a shower. It’s nearly nine. You’d better get your stuff together if you want to make your train.”
He gathered his clothing and stomped off down the hall to the guest bathroom, leaving the en suite to Dan. He didn’t think he could stand it if Dan tried to climb in the shower with him. Didn’t want to listen to any more apologies. Didn’t want to break down and cry in front of him.
He turned the water up so hot it hurt and held back the tears by sheer force of will. Something precious had been ripped out from inside of him, leaving a raw, agonising emptiness in its place.
Robin made his way down to the breakfast room. Dan was cradling baby Patrick in his arms and had a silly smile on his face. It disappeared when their eyes met.
They were quiet at the table. Well, Robin was quiet. Dan still managed to keep up a steady stream of chatter, but Robin could tell his heart wasn’t in it by the way his eyes remained grave and his cheeks undimpled. No one else seemed to notice, though.
After forcing enough turkey sandwiches on Dan to last him the rest of the week, Rosemary drove them both to the station. It was almost empty, and Robin accompanied him onto the platform.
Dan placed a hand on Robin’s cheek. “So…I’ll ring you. Let you know how I’m doing.”
Robin turned away in an attempt to hide his eyes. “Yeah, well, I might want to moor up in the rushes.”
“Fine, then, I’ll text you.”
Robin hunched his shoulders and made a noncommittal nod.
“Fucking hell, Robin. Look, don’t go punishing me for one stupid little mistake when I was drunk. I’ll behave, I promise. I won’t drink any alcohol while I’m away, okay?”
Robin nodded. He couldn’t risk opening his mouth in case he started begging Dan to stay and lost every last shred of his self-respect in the process.
“You know you have nothing to worry about, yeah? You’re really important to me, and I don’t want to fuck things up over something that didn’t mean anything.”
Didn’t mean anything to Dan, maybe, but it meant a whole heap of pain for Robin. He turned away and blinked fiercely, biting down on his lower lip so hard it stung.
The platform speakers crackled and announced that the train was about to arrive.
“Bugger! I wanted to tell you that—” Dan’s words were drowned out by the arriving train.
“What was that?” Robin asked.
Dan flushed. “It doesn’t matter. Just…just take care of yourself, yeah?” Dan stepped up close and hugged Robin tight.
Robin wanted to avoid those treacherous lips, but his body seemed to think otherwise, and he found himself drawn into a heartbreaking kiss. He was acutely aware of how they’d missed their chance to make love one last time.
But making love wasn’t so great when for one of you it was just fucking.
He clutched Dan tight, trying to store up the memory of him in his body. The warm scent of his aftershave, the strong, slender arms wrapped around him. The soft strands of hair, shining like bronze filaments in the weak December sun. And then those eyes—green flecked with gold—that seemed to promise so much, yet kept holding out on him. Betraying him.
Dan wrenched himself away at the last moment, visibly shaken. “I’ll call you. I promise. We’ll work it out, okay?”
Robin nodded, but he still couldn’t believe.
His eyes smarted as he returned to the car. For once, his mother didn’t say anything but just pressed a hand over his. Somehow, that simple pressure was enough to start the tears rolling. He fell against her, and they sat in the car while he gave in to the sobs that threatened to rip him apart. But they didn’t, and eventually he calmed, even if the empty ache inside him was still there.
“He’ll be back soon, darling. It will all be just fine. You’ll see.”
Robin nodded and gave her a smile. It felt tight and false.
He had a terrible premonition that he’d never set eyes on Dan again.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Dan stared out of the train window, watching the cramped houses and their tiny back gardens spool past in an endless parade of battered fences, peeling paint and dirty windows. His mum’s house was the best of the lot; she had standards. He spotted the shiny red back door and the brightly coloured plastic toys that filled the yard. Was that her at the kitchen window? The train went past too fast to tell, but she was generally the one who ended up doing all the chores when Dan wasn’t there. It was a shame he’d be around only for the afternoon—she wouldn’t be getting much of a Christmas break this year.
The walk from Streatham station took about ten minutes, and as always, Dan felt like he was shrinking in response to the bleak surroundings of the
neighbourhood. The South London estate was particularly stark after just coming from the genteel outskirts of Cheltenham. As he turned into his old road, anger boiled up inside him. For fuck’s sake, was the family next door deliberately trying to turn their front garden into a haven for every last vicious, disease-riddled rodent in the area? He glared at the piled-up detritus and made a mental note to harangue the local council into clearing it up. Again. They tended to listen to him more than to his mum. Perhaps it was because he’d let them know about his contacts in the media. He’d threatened to use them in the past, he’d been so incensed about the vermin problem.
His mum answered the door in her apron, and he leant down to give her a hug. Jean Taylor was a tiny woman, thin but strong. Her red-gold hair had faded now, and her face was etched with lines, but you could tell she’d been a right looker when she was younger.
“You’re looking gorgeous, sis. Now where’s that mum of ours?”
“Oi, stop it, you! Cheeky boy.” His mum giggled and flicked him with a tea towel. Dan thought she looked beautiful, with the lines in her cheeks framing her smile and her green eyes sparkling. “Come on in. It’s bleedin’ brass monkeys out ’ere. I’ll pop the kettle on.”
Dan followed her down the narrow hallway. He could hear the television blaring from the living room. It sounded like Doctor Who. He glanced in to see an assortment of nieces and nephews sprawled in front of the screen. No doubt his siblings and their partners were all down the pub. Dan said hello, and the older kids grunted, their eyes drawn back to the spectacle of David Tennant outsmarting the Cybermen. Little Chantal rushed over to hug his leg and gave a sticky, raspberry-flavoured kiss to his lips when he crouched down. He rubbed a hand through her frizzy hair and promised her a present when they’d finished watching telly. She giggled and kissed him again, then scampered back to join the others.
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