“Here’s your tea, Your Majesty,” he said, handing her the mug.
They drank in silence for a while.
“I’m sorry I made you gay,” she said out of nowhere.
He spluttered on a mouthful of tea. “You what?”
“I’m sorry. I know I wasn’t the best mother in the world. I did everything wrong when you were young.” She looked sheepish, her eyes lowered.
Was this really his mum? Robin had never heard her admit to being in the wrong before. “You were a good mother. I’ve always known you love me.”
“You do? That’s good.” She seemed genuinely relieved, and Robin wondered how she could ever have doubted that.
“I did everything wrong, though. I know that now. Reading all these attachment parenting books Miranda lends me and seeing how happy little Patrick is being carried around in a sling and breastfed on demand… Well, it makes me wish I’d been able to do that with you. You were such a difficult baby, always crying. You must have needed me to hold you, you must have been trying to tell me that—”
She broke off, and Robin saw the tears start to fall. In an instant, he was by her side, holding her tight and rocking gently. “Hey, it’s okay. I turned out all right, didn’t I?”
“You don’t understand! I was told the proper way to do everything. The midwives said if I picked you up when you cried, you’d end up being a real mummy’s boy. They told me that breastfeeding could turn you queer. Well, just shows you what they knew! Brought up on the bottle and still gay.”
The bitterness wounded him, but sympathy for her soothed the sting. “I don’t think it’s connected. And even if it is, I don’t care. I’m happy with who I am.”
“Are you?” She pulled back to look at him. Her mascara had made smudgy marks under her eyes, and she looked about ten years younger without her usual mask of confidence. “You don’t sound happy about it. You talk about gay men like you don’t have any respect for them. That makes me think you can’t possibly respect yourself.”
Robin didn’t reply. He watched the flames dancing in his stove. He thought about Jamie, and about Dan, and how totally different they both were. He barely noticed when his mum got up and went through to the back of the boat. When she returned, she had her usual war paint back in place and a resolute expression.
“I want you to check your phone.”
He stalled. “I can’t. There’s no reception here.”
“Fine, then we’ll go for a walk. There was definitely reception in that pub. You can check your messages, and then we can have something to eat and show that petty-minded little fool that we’re not ashamed of anything.”
Robin was about to point out that a boycott would hurt Nigel more, but then he thought about how reluctant he’d be to cause a scene in front of the Sunday lunch crowd. He’d have to put up with Robin sitting in his pub. A homo boater sitting at his own bar and polluting it with his foul depravities. One who knew his secret nickname.
He grinned. “Yeah, all right, then.”
There was a side passage around to the front of the house, and Robin headed that way to avoid disturbing Charles, but then Charles called out after them.
“Robin! I say, do you have a moment to spare? I really need your help with something. In private, if that’s not too much to ask.”
“I’m just on my way out…” he began, but the plea in Charles’s eyes made him pause.
“Mum, would you mind going on ahead and getting us a table? I’ll catch you up.”
“Of course, darling.” His mum furrowed her brow. “I do hope that dear man is all right. He’s quite a character, isn’t he?”
Robin smiled. “Yeah, he is. Don’t worry, I’ll help him sort it out.”
He followed Charles in through the back door.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Dan steered the Jolly Roger through the swing bridge, waving to the dogwalker who’d stopped to open it for him. He looked out over the shiny blue roof of his new boat and gave her a pat. Yep, he could understand now why Robin caressed Serendipity in that way. Already he’d fallen in love with her, and he just had to hope Robin understood her significance—the proof that Dan trusted in their future together so much he was willing to sell his flat and buy a boat instead.
Best decision he’d ever made.
Now he just had to find Robin.
A familiar figure with blond dreadlocks appeared on the roof of a boat moored up ahead. Dan waited until he was nearly parallel, then went into reverse, bringing the Jolly Roger to a stop alongside Aranya’s boat.
“All right, mate? I don’t suppose you know where Robin’s moored up, do you?”
Aranya gave him a cool stare. “Haven’t seen you around in a while.”
Shit, had Robin been telling the other boaters about their problems? It didn’t seem likely, but it was hard to read Aranya’s expression. Dan went for a half-truth. “Yeah, I’ve been busy with work, but now I’m back, and I’m one of you lot.” He patted his boat for emphasis. “I can’t get hold of Robin on his mobile. Do you know where he is?”
The stare turned pitying. “You mean you don’t know?”
“I wouldn’t be asking if I knew, would I?” Jesus, had Aranya always been this irritating?
It was a moment before Aranya replied, and when he did, he sounded reluctant. “Same place he’s been all month. Some rich bloke’s garden down in Bathampton. Look, Dan, I don’t like having to be the one to tell you this, but I think Robin’s got a new man. I’ve seen him heading back to his boat really late at night, and they’ve been seen drinking together down the Queen’s Head.”
Dan’s head spun. “They? Who are you talking about?”
“The old bloke who owns the house. Absolutely loaded, fruity dress sense, wears a cravat—you know who I mean? I think his name’s Charlie or something.”
The penny dropped. The old guy from the pub, all those months ago. Dan dug up an old memory of Robin’s tale of how Charles had tried to seduce him into mooring up at the end of his garden. He laughed. “Oh yeah, I know who you mean. Nah, Robin’s not interested in him. Besides, I’m back now, and I’m here to stay this time.”
Aranya didn’t look convinced. “I’m just letting you know what people have been saying. Robin’s given up working at Smiler’s, and he’s been avoiding everyone. Looks pretty suspicious if you ask me, but I suppose you know him better than I do.”
“That’s right.” Dan smiled and waved good-bye, but his guts gave an uneasy twist, and he put the Jolly Roger into second gear despite being in an area where boats were lining the canal. He didn’t care if they caught his wash—he needed to get to Robin and find out what was going on.
In another five minutes, Dan rounded a bend and caught sight of Serendipity. His heart stuttered. There was a telltale rippling in the air over her stovepipe. Robin was home.
Dan brought his boat to a stop alongside her and fastened the two boats together. He was blocking the whole canal, but he just had to see Robin right away. In fact, he was surprised Robin wasn’t out on deck, wondering what was going on.
He walked down the roof of his boat and jumped onto Serendipity’s front deck. The doors weren’t locked, but it took only a moment to search the boat and come up empty-handed. There were two mugs sitting on the side. Dan paused for a moment, wondering who Robin had been entertaining. Surely there was only one option, if he hadn’t been socialising with the other boaters? Peering out through the kitchen porthole, Dan could see that the back door to Charles’s house was standing open, Morris standing just outside it.
Dan made his way up through the garden, his stomach twisting itself in knots. Could Robin really have decided he’d be better off without him? Better off throwing his lot in with Charles? Surely not.
But then again, Robin had been acting strangely, taking himself right out of contact with everyone else.
Dan told his mind to shut the fuck up and walked the last few paces to the back door. He could hear voices from inside. Charles�
�s voice. Moaning. Slurping noises.
“Yes, that’s it. Good boy. Suck it down. Mmmm, feels so good in your hot little mouth.”
Dan leant his forehead against the doorjamb and tried to ignore Charles’s dirty talk. It served him right, didn’t it? Leaving Robin on his own for this long. The man had needs, and it was only natural to find someone to fill them.
But no, that wasn’t right. Dan had coped for a month without straying. Robin always acted like Mr. High-and-mighty-and-bloody-well-purer-than-thou, but here he was, caught in the act. Dan gave a grim smile that hurt his face. The betrayal was sickening. His insides burned like he’d swallowed acid. He had a feeling there were worlds of pain lurking behind this sharp edge, just waiting to catch up with him.
To pay him back.
But he’d bought a bloody boat!
Charles was still talking. “That’s it, get your cock out. I want to see you beat yourself off.”
Dan had heard enough. Sod this. He wasn’t going to stand around like a pillock while Robin got his rocks off with his new sugar daddy.
He stepped into the room. It took a moment to adjust to the shade inside the kitchen, but then he caught sight of the figures up against the fridge. Charles was standing, his back resting against the appliance, his hands on the head at his crotch.
The blond head.
“Marek, darling, that’s the way. Christ, yes!”
Dan backed out silently, unseen. He leant back against the stone wall, waiting for his breathing to calm. Why’d he have to doubt Robin like that? Going behind his back to give some other bloke a blowjob was far more Dan’s style than Robin’s—the old Dan, anyway. He could do better than that now. Robin had shown him how.
Through the open door came the familiar sound of skin on skin, slurps and grunts, insinuating its way into Dan’s thoughts with an unwelcome flicker of arousal. Feeling like a voyeur, he headed back down the garden and took out his mobile with shaking hands. There probably wasn’t any point, but he tried Robin’s number anyway.
It rang.
“Dan.” Robin’s voice was cautious, but it was so good to hear it again.
“Hello, stranger, I’m back. Thought you must have dropped your phone in the canal.” Dan aimed for a light tone but felt the emotion thicken his voice. Bugger it, he was still pissed off with Robin for putting him through so much worry. “I’ve missed you so much, you stubborn git.”
Robin was silent for a long moment. There were voices in the background—the muted polite conversation of a restaurant, perhaps. Dan started to worry that he’d bollocksed things up again.
“You missed me? Really?”
“God yes! The whole time I was there. Every night when I sat there drinking fruit juice and turning away hot men, every night when I went to bed on my own. Why the hell didn’t you answer your phone? And more to the point, what’s all this I hear about you shagging Charles?”
“What? I’m not shagging Charles.” Robin was emphatic. Almost too emphatic, but Dan wasn’t about to argue with him.
“Well no, I can see that. He’s got some blond lad sucking his cock right now, and it sounds like you’re in a pub. Are you going to fill me in on why you haven’t been answering your phone, then?”
Robin gave a long sigh. “It’s going to sound stupid.”
“Yeah? Well, maybe it was stupid, then. It’s a good thing I’m not a worrier or I’d have been up every night wondering if you’d gone and drowned or burnt your boat down or something.”
“I know, I—”
“Do you have any idea what you’ve put me through?” Now that he’d started, the words kept on bubbling out. Must be the relief of knowing Robin was okay, letting all the worry and suppressed anger vent. “And all because of what? Because you didn’t trust me? I fucking love you, you idiot!”
Shit! He hadn’t meant to say that. Dan sat down on a bench at the bottom of Charles’s garden.
When Robin finally spoke, his voice shook. “Do you really mean that?”
“Of course I bloody well mean it! There’s no way I’d have said it if I didn’t. Looks like you’re stuck with me.” Dan waited a long time for a response. “Well?” he asked, his indignation giving way to nerves. “Do you have anything you want to say, seeing as how I’ve gone and laid it all out for you?”
“I—I’ve been a stupid prick, and you don’t deserve me.”
Dan grinned, most of the tension leaving him in a dizzying rush. “Yeah, you have, but I reckon I’ve been one too. How about we call it quits? I’m rather hoping I do deserve you, especially after what I’ve gone and done. Where are you right now?”
“Uh, Bathampton. Sitting in the Queen’s Head with Mum.”
“Blimey, that’s definitely not something I ever imagined I’d hear from you. Okay, that’s good. Can you stay there for a bit? I reckon I can be there in about five minutes. Just wait in the pub, and I’ll be there. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“Surprise? What surprise? Why aren’t you still in Spain?”
“Got back on Wednesday, and I’ve been busy sorting things out, but I’m all done now. I’ll tell you more when I get there. Just wait in the pub, okay?”
“Okay.” Now Robin sounded tense too.
Dan gave a nervous chuckle. “See you in a minute.”
Robin couldn’t tolerate another moment inside the pub, and now he was pacing up and down the towpath outside. He remembered teaching Dan to steer properly down this stretch of canal. He recalled the way he’d still been able to smell him over the stench of the diesel, the way Dan had felt when Robin pressed up against him. The memory made his skin tingle, and for a moment he forgot where he was. Then he stubbed his toe on one of the mooring rings and swore as he nearly fell into the canal. He hopped, alternating through waves of embarrassment, irritation and horniness. But most of all, churning anticipation.
A dark blue wide beam emerged from under the bridge, and Robin straightened, admiring the sleek paint job and shiny brass of the window frames. She had the look of a hire boat about her, luxurious but not lived in. There wasn’t anything on the roof, for Christ’s sake. Not even a sack of coal, at this time of year! She even had one of those nautical names that the hire companies seemed to find amusing. The Jolly Roger. He’d have to tell Dan about that later. No doubt he’d come up with some filthy joke involving the skipper.
Robin turned away from the boat, looking down the towpath towards Bath. Where the hell was Dan? He didn’t even know what direction Dan would be coming from.
The Jolly Roger’s engine slowed as she steered in towards the bank, and Robin figured he might as well help them out by grabbing a line when they came alongside. He raised his gaze to check out the skipper and see if he’d be the sort of guy who might enjoy a jolly rogering.
Robin’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open. “Dan?”
Why on earth had Dan arrived on a hire boat? But Robin grinned, because he didn’t really give a toss so long as Dan was here, and he helped grab the boat and pull her in. He heard Dan cut the engine as he looped the rope around the mooring ring twice, but that was all he could manage before Dan was on him and everything else faded away.
They kissed, hungry lips and tongues tangling as they tried to climb into each other’s skin.
“Hey.” Dan pulled back. Robin tried to chase his lips. “Good to see you too, but aren’t you going to ask me about the boat?”
He looked unbearably smug, and Robin wanted to eat him alive. He tried to concentrate his thoughts above the rushing of the blood in his veins and the pounding of his heart. “Boat…why’d you hire a boat?”
Dan threw his head back and laughed. Robin wanted to lick the skin of his neck, still pale under his chin despite the tan elsewhere. He didn’t have that sunbed look anymore. The freckles on his nose were even more plentiful, his hair bleached almost blond by the Spanish sun.
“I didn’t hire her. She’s mine. All mine.”
Robin looked from Dan to the Jolly Roger. “Yours? I
don’t get it… How can she be yours?”
“I bought her, fair and square. She’s mine.”
“But you can’t afford a boat like this.”
“Oh, can’t I?” Dan raised his eyebrows and grinned. “What about that nice little pile of equity I was sitting on top of back in London?”
Robin scrunched up his brow. What was Dan trying to tell him? It was bloody hard to concentrate with him right here looking and smelling and feeling so excruciatingly sexy.
“My flat. Bought it back when prices were low, didn’t I? Even with a rushed sale, I had enough to pay off the mortgage, buy this beauty and about twenty thousand left in the bank to tide me over.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “You know what that means? I can pick and choose my work, try to get together a book of my own. I’m thinking some sort of guide to the Waterways of Britain, written and photographed by Dan Taylor, live-aboard boater.”
Robin was having problems wrapping his head around it. “You sold your flat?”
“Yep, you getting it yet? It was the answer to all our problems, wasn’t it? We can be together, but we don’t have to share that tiny little boat of yours.”
“Serendipity is not tiny!”
“Yeah, but my boat’s bigger than yours.”
Dan looked so bloody smug again that despite the delight flooding through him, Robin wanted to protest. He looked over Dan’s shoulder and smirked. “She may be bigger, but you don’t seem to able to keep her under control.”
“What? There’s nothing the matter with my steer— Oh shit!”
The Jolly Roger was drifting slowly away from the bank, and the end of Robin’s rope dropped off the edge as they watched.
“You could have tied it,” Dan shouted as he threw himself towards the bank and plunged his arm into the water.
“Someone was distracting me.” Robin watched Dan pull out the dripping rope and attempt to secure it with fumbling fingers. “I’ll do this one for you.” He sauntered over to the line at the bows and knelt down to make it fast, while Dan still struggled with his.
Barging In Page 27
