The real reason for his abrupt exit was that he had suddenly decided to buy some more morphine at the chemist’s before it closed at nine o´clock. He had used his last ampoule in Edinburgh before taking the train and had decided to quit the disgusting habit as soon as he arrived back in London. But his hand had begun to tremble again while he was sitting at the table, and he could feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He wanted to get out of the house before his symptoms became apparent. It was Susan who had spurred on this condition. And the lecture she gave Clarkson about sodomites.
He shook his head and laughed. How could he have fallen in love with Clarkson? Although he wondered whether love was actually the right word for what he felt. He cared for him, certainly. He admired what he stood for; his goodness and his wholesomeness. He had a lot of respect for him and the way he hadn’t allowed all the miseries he encountered in his job to corrupt him. But was that love? He certainly never felt for Clarkson what he had felt for Westbrook.
His thoughts then turned to Westbrook. He should’ve given him a hug that day when they said goodbye. He knew Westbrook had been quietly craving some compassion after the terrible mistake he had made, and Billings had been too hard-hearted to give it to him. He shook his head again. He must learn to open up. Learn how to show affection. And learn how to receive it. Westbrook had taught him that love was possible – even for him. And there were more Westbrooks out there in the world. He just needed to keep his eyes open, stop being so aloof and interact more with people.
He looked at his watch. It was nearly nine o’clock, and the chemist’s would close soon. He quickened his pace, but as he did so, he suddenly noticed that his hand wasn’t trembling anymore.
He could see the chemist’s at the end of the road. The clerk was mopping the floor and shutting the blinds, but they weren’t quite shut yet. He’d have to hurry if he wanted those ampoules. He hesitated.
“No,” he decided and walked on past the chemist’s. He had made the right decision when he decided to give up the habit. From now on, he was going to change. No more self-pity. No more self-loathing. He was a proud, handsome, intelligent and friendly young man, and if someone like Westbrook could fall in love with him, then so could somebody else.
Other Books by the Author
D.S. Billings Victorian Mysteries
Death Takes a Lover
The Ornamental Hermit
Something Sinister
Gay Noir
Coming Soon: Gay Noir - three noir mysteries with a gay twist
Inspired by the pulp fiction novels of the 1940's and 50's, the novellas in this anthology emulate the dark, thrilling, sensational and taboo breaking stories of the post war era and gives them a gay twist.
www.olivierbosman.com
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