Short Stack

by Lily Morton

  “Billy,” Asa breaks in hurriedly. “Take Molly and make sure her cage is shut properly. And say thank you to Gideon and Eli for looking for her.”

  “Thank you,” he says fervently, ignoring me and focusing on Gideon.

  Gideon has a slightly panicked look about him. “No problem,” he says somewhat awkwardly.

  Billy’s gaze suddenly clears. “I know you,” he exclaims. “You were in Oliver. That film about the boy who doesn’t have to go to bed early and doesn’t want to steal stuff.”

  “That’s a nice synopsis, Bill,” Asa says dryly.

  “I was in that. Did you like it?” Gideon asks.

  Billy tips his head to one side, still maintaining a firm grip on the struggling gerbil.

  “The first time I saw it I liked it,” he says judiciously. “I liked it when you died anyway. And how your dog left you because you were so horrid. But Mrs Chalmers makes us watch it at the end of every term. Mr Phillips, the PE teacher, said that it’s because of you, but I don’t see how you could make her watch something if you don’t live here. Do you live here, though?”

  “Bill,” Asa interjects. “Go put Molly away before she poos on you. I’ve had enough poo today.”

  Billy gives a raucous chuckle and waves at us. “I liked it when you were hanging off that roof,” he shouts over his shoulder as he disappears down the hall.

  Asa shakes his head, and there’s a short silence before the three of us break into laughter. “Come and have a drink,” Asa urges us. “I think it’s best if you start drinking now and just carry on until your visit is finished.”

  Before I can take a step, a small man with a remarkable resemblance to a gnome pops up next to me. I jump about a foot in the air.

  “Afternoon, sir,” the man says in the gloomiest voice that I’ve ever heard.

  “Holy shit,” I gasp, clutching my chest.

  “Amos,” Asa sighs. “Please don’t creep up on people.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says ponderously. “I just thought I’d offer to take the gentlemen’s bags up to their room.”

  “Oh no,” Gideon immediately protests. “We’re perfectly capable of carrying our own bags. I don’t want to put you out.”

  “Ah,” he says. “That’s very kind of you, sir, to think of my feelings. Particularly at such a challenging time for you.”

  “Challenging time?” Gideon looks wildly at me as if I’m going to be able to explain everything. I shrug.

  “Well, with your career going up in flames. You must be feeling utterly dreadful and quite hopeless,” Amos says with a gloomy sort of relish. “Like there’s nothing left to live for.” Then he seizes the bags and with remarkable speed bears them up the stairs, leaving behind a stunned silence.

  “Erm,” I say.

  Gideon starts to laugh. “Oh shit,” he gasps. “That’s bloody priceless.”

  I shake my head. “You’re the most contrary man that I’ve ever met.”

  Asa grins. “Don’t mind Amos. Do you remember the advert that said they wouldn’t make a drama out of a crisis? Well, that’s not Amos. He’d totally make a crisis out of your drama.”

  Gideon and I laugh and follow him into a long lounge filled with comfortable sofas and a window looking out on the sea. Stuffed-full bookcases are everywhere, and the walls are painted a vibrant lilac colour with the woodwork a navy blue.

  Asa gestures us to one of the black velvet sofas and disappears to get coffee. I lean back into the cushions and look around. “This lounge is lush,” I murmur and Gideon nods, looking at me curiously. “What?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “You just surprise me sometimes.”

  “Why?”

  “I thought you’d like a minimal sort of life. You don’t carry much around with you.”

  I laugh. “That’s because I’m moving from place to place with my job. I don’t need twenty tons of luggage while I’m doing that. Just a bag of clothes and my laptop and iPad which have all my books and music on them. If I were at home, I’d spread out a lot more. Although not as much as you.” I wink at him. “I don’t think there’s a house big enough to contain your mess if it goes unchecked.”

  He sticks his middle finger up and wanders over to the shelves to peruse the books. I gaze at him fondly, feeling a fresh tenderness toward him as he pursues his new interest. Gid has turned into something of a bookworm since being in Cornwall. The other day he said he’d be ten minutes in Waterstones, and I finally tracked him down three hours later. He was curled up on one of their leather chairs, his long nose stuck in a book and a teetering stack of books next to him.

  Asa comes back into the room and hands us our drinks. “Did you get the scripts?” he asks Gideon.

  His face immediately lights up, all traces of nervousness long gone now. “I did,” he says enthusiastically. “They’re fucking brilliant.”

  “Max is coming down tomorrow,” Asa says, and I remember that he’s Asa’s manager who Gideon wants to meet. “He’ll have all the paperwork with him for you to take away. Filming’s in Ireland, if that’s okay?”

  “We’d like that, wouldn’t we, Eli?”

  I jump at the mention of my name. “Oh, yes,” I say slowly. “Ireland’s supposed to be lovely.”

  “I thought you could come out at the weekends and we’d get a car and explore the place,” Gid says, smiling at me.

  I stare at him. For some reason, I’d resigned myself to the fact that Gid would be away a lot. I didn’t even consider that he’d want me to visit. I don’t know why. My smile widens. “That sounds brilliant,” I say warmly.

  He grins at me with a relieved edge to his expression. Then he and Asa fall into excited talk about the project.

  I sit back and listen, fascinated by Gid in his known element, Confident and assured, a smile plays constantly over his thin lips, his earlier fears apparently forgotten. I’m grateful they’re gone, but I like that he showed me them.

  I sip my coffee and wander over to the window. Billy is outside on the drive picking his bike up. I smile as I remember my own childhood, most of which was spent outside avoiding my father’s expectations. Then I look closer and narrow my eyes because he appears to have put Molly, the gerbil, in his bike basket.

  There’s the noise of a car engine, and a cherry-red Mini appears on the forecourt. It pulls to a snazzy stop, and a tall, curly-headed man wearing a slim-cut, dark-grey suit climbs out. I blink as I recognise Jude Bailey, or Jude Jacobs, as he is since marrying Asa last year. He was a famous supermodel a few years ago, but I seem to recall that he gave it up to train as a teacher.

  Billy exclaims and runs towards him, his face alight with the biggest smile. Jude lowers himself, and when the little boy reaches him, he swings him into the air laughing.

  They talk for a few minutes, the little boy’s fingers bracketing Jude’s face, and then he points at his bike. I smile as I see Jude exclaim at the sight of the gerbil valiantly trying to get out of the basket. They walk over to the bike while Jude appears to be lecturing Billy and then after a bit of back and forth Billy scoops up Molly, and they both walk towards the front door.

  Asa and Gideon stop talking as the door slams. “Asa,” comes the shout.

  Asa’s face immediately brightens. “In here,” he yells.

  “Bloody hell, I’m knackered,” comes Jude’s voice. “You know that film we watched the other day about the pod people?”

  Asa’s mouth twitches. “Yes.”

  “Well, I have to say that parent-teacher consultations would be a lot better if children were hatched from seed pods. What a bloody awful evening. I’d have been questioned less if I worked for Donald Trump.”

  He rounds the door and grins when he sees us. “Hello,” he says happily. “Is that your car outside?”

  I nod, coming forward to shake hands. “It is. I’m Eli and that one over there is Gideon.” Gideon rolls his eyes and comes over to shake hands. “Thanks for having us to stay for the weekend,” I say.

 
“Not at all, mate. You’re particularly welcome because Billy tells me that one of you found and rescued Molly.”

  “Yes, she escaped again,” Asa says.

  Jude shakes his head. “She’s escaped more times than fucking John Dillinger. Maybe we should just leave her wandering around. An hour of this madhouse and she’d be begging for a nice quiet cage.”

  His face is merry and intelligent, and I warm towards him immediately. He turns to me. “These two will be discussing business tomorrow, so I wondered if you wanted to come with Billy and me. I’m thinking of taking him coasteering.”

  “Is that where you throw yourself off cliffs?” I say enthusiastically.

  Gideon promptly looks alarmed, and Asa stirs.

  “Relax, Daddy,” Jude drawls. “It’s for kids, so it’s only small rocks.”

  Asa shakes his head. “Good luck with that. Billy will never in a million years wear a wet suit.”

  Jude twirls his keys around his finger. “Fancy a bet?”

  Asa smiles evilly. “Our usual bet and I know I’m going to win. He hates anything tight-fitting.”

  “Shit,” Jude says morosely. “I forgot.”

  “Suck it up, buttercup,” Asa suggests.

  Jude grimaces. “That’s definitely not in the terms of the bet, wankface.”

  Asa throws his head back, laughing, and Jude turns to Gideon. “Well, hello, Gideon Ramsay,” he drawls. “Nice to finally meet you with your clothes on.”

  Gideon blinks, and Asa sighs. “He watched Arthur and Guinevere last night, and he had control of the remote. We seemed to spend a very long time with the screen paused on the image of you naked. Apparently the remote was malfunctioning.”

  Jude chuckles. “We’ve got to work on your trust issues, Asa.”

  “Let’s do it at the same time as your perving-on-guests issues.”

  He shrugs happily. “And yet you still give me Gideon Ramsay. Asa, you giant tease.” He winks at me, and I laugh.

  “Sorry,” Asa says to Gideon.

  “I can’t blame Jude,” Gideon replies. “I suppose when you’ve had hamburger for so long, an expensive steak must be very appealing.”

  Jude grins at him as Asa throws his head back and gives a deep laugh. He slaps Gideon on the back. “We’re going to get along just fine.”

  Later that night, we settle into bed in the guest room. Gideon leans back against the pillows and arranges me so I’m nestled against him with my head on his shoulder.

  “That was a nice evening,” I say sleepily.

  The mysterious Peggy had appeared once Molly had been contained and she’d cooked a rich cassoulet. We’d washed it down with red wine and sat talking and laughing until late. Gideon and Asa had seemed to take to one another instantly, and I liked both Asa and Jude immensely. They’re good fun and excellent company. I have that feeling you sometimes get when you meet someone and know that you’re going to be friends.

  He kisses the top of my head. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”

  “Yes, Van Morrison, you have,” I say solemnly and jerk away when he pinches me.

  He pulls me close again. “I do,” he says. “I love being with you, and I adore the way you get on with everyone.”

  “I like people,” I say, kissing his chest. “Good job too, considering my career.”

  “But you don’t need me with you all the time when you’re with strangers.”

  “Well, of course I don’t,” I say, astonished. “I mastered the art of conversation a long while ago, Gid. You do you, and I’ll be fine.”

  His arms tighten. “Not too fine, though. I like having you nearby. I like listening for your laugh when we’re in a group. I like looking over and seeing you and thinking that I’m the one who gets to go home with you.”

  “I feel the same,” I say, lifting up for a kiss. When our lips separate, I breathe in and say what’s been on my mind all night. “I want this.”

  He looks startled. “A house in Devon? I thought we were buying one in Cornwall.”

  “No, I want a house full of chaos and noise.”

  “That’s no surprise,” he sniffs. “You live to sort out chaos. It’s your raison d’être.”

  “There’s a posh word,” I say. I pause with my heart hammering. “I want kids, too,” I say softly.

  “What?” He says this in his loud thespian voice and I shush him hastily. “You want kids?”

  I nod. “A whole house of them.”

  “Can you purchase them from Hedonism Wines? Because I’m sure I’ve got an account with them.”

  “Gideon,” I say in a warning voice, and he hugs me, inhaling deeply and kissing the top of my head. I take the scent of spicy vanilla into my nose and heart.

  “Tell me,” he says slowly.

  “I always imagined having a big house full of children laughing. I want sticky hugs and tantrums and funny conversations and someone who I can love with my whole heart. I want that with you.” He hums contemplatively. “What are you thinking?” I ask anxiously. Have I put him off me? Is that too big a dream for us?

  “My heart sometimes hurts when I’m with you,” he says almost casually.

  I sit up. “What?”

  He nods, smiling calmly. “At first I thought it was a heart attack, but now I just know that it’s love.”

  I stroke his face. “And is that a bad thing?”

  “God, no,” he says earnestly. “It’s the best.” He looks at me and shrugs. “Maybe,” he says slowly. “Can we leave it at maybe for now? I’ve only just got used to loving you this much. Having children might detract from that and what you feel for me, and I’m not convinced that I’m selfless enough for that yet.” I open my mouth to argue but close it as he carries on talking. “But I am saying that maybe after we’ve travelled for a few years, we can think about it. I want to see the world with you first.”

  “You’ll be there now, in a minute,” I say finally, as I gaze at his profile in the moonlight.

  “What?” He stares at me with a smile tilting his mouth. “That’s one of your Welsh expressions again, isn’t it?”

  “It is, cariad.” I consider him. “I can work with maybe.”

  He draws me back down to him and rolls on top of me as I spread my legs to accommodate him. “Good, because the only definite in my life is how much I love you.”

  “Lovey, I hope that never changes.”

  House Hunting

  This story is set a few months after the end of the book, when Gideon and Eli had got together. I wanted to write this short, even though initially it’s a bit angsty, because I think this is a genuine problem that the two of them would have faced once the news got out that Gideon was gay.

  It would have been hard for Eli to get used to being in the public eye and having to deal with the vast disparity between him and Gideon in terms of money.

  I liked the idea of the two of them being new at this relationship business and how this small rough patch sets them on the path to understanding each other better. People don’t start off in relationships with a blueprint for success. That’s something they have to forge together.

  Eli

  I walk up the path towards the cottage, already looking forward to a hot shower and something quick to eat before falling into bed.

  A few weeks ago, I took a job in a local hospital because I needed the money but also because I didn’t want to take anything too far away from Gid. But I’ve come to realise the job might be a huge mistake because I’m now apparently public property. Someone for people to stare at and gossip about and take furtive photos on their mobiles while pretending to be taking a selfie.

  I’d have probably been better off getting another private patient job where at least I wouldn’t be working where so many people come and go. However, my boss at the agency had charmingly suggested that I take a break, as apparently, the last thing their famous patients needed was a nurse who had paparazzi seemingly surgically attached to his arse.

  The wind howls
around me, rustling the branches and leaves eerily. Ahead, I catch a glimpse of the main house through the trees, lit up in the gloam. Chi an Mor is a beautiful place, and it’s been a sanctuary for Gid and me, but I can’t deny I’ll be glad to get our own home.

  I’d had to force my way through the usual crowd of photographers at the main gates of Chi an Mor, so sanctuary is the right word at the moment. They never leave us alone, and it’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. It wasn’t until I’d had photos of me splashed all over the papers that I realised how lucky I’d been to lead a private life. I suppose Gid and I were shielded from it when everyone thought he was straight, but the cat’s out of the bag now, and the focus is on us.

  And it really is. Not a day goes by without some photo or commentary about us appearing in the media. It’s made my work very difficult, to the extent that Gid had suggested last week that I stop work for a bit and lean on him. That had been met with unprecedented hostility from me, and I sigh at the memory of his hurt face as I’d railed at him.

  But even though I wish I hadn’t lost my temper, the sentiment is still the same. I’m not going to rely on him financially. We have to be equal if we hope to survive this baptism of fire and allow our relationship to grow. I have to be able to contribute to us, or one day he’s going to look on me as just another of his disposable and useless possessions. Like the clothes he used to leave behind in hotel rooms so he could buy nice new ones.

  Even so, it wasn’t a good time to pick an argument as he was going to Ireland to start shooting his new TV show. We’d said goodbye stiffly, only warmed by the sudden tight hug he grabbed me in.

  “We’ll be okay, won’t we?” he said anxiously. “You’ll still be here when I get back?”

  I’d immediately assured him that I would be, but his words had hurt my heart and they’ve stayed in my head all week as I’ve tried to do my job while people whisper behind their hands about me and follow me with avid eyes that make my skin itch.

  I rub the back of my neck, feeling the tense muscles there, and root in my pocket for the key, only to come up short when I see a light on in the lounge window. For a second, shock holds me immobile. Has a reporter broken in? It isn’t out of the ballpark. The other day one of them had been waiting in the staff toilets for me. Security had thrown him out, but not before he’d shouted some truly fucking shitty questions at me about my sex life in front of a group of people in the waiting room.