Never Too Late To Change - 5. Questions

A few days later, Andy stood in an aisle of their local supermarket, watching Eric slowly make his selections. He had a clear afternoon, so he'd picked Eric up from the cottage and brought him there. He noted the old man chose the cheapest 'value' option every time he could. And it was all so basic, as well. Unappealing, to his mind. There was hardly any fresh fruit or veg, and absolutely nothing which could be termed a treat, never mind a luxury.

God, the old man really didn't have much money. Andy knew that from the figures he'd seen, but somehow, the reality had only just hit home. It wasn't a mystery that he didn't have anything left to spend on himself. Clothes, new things for the cottage – essentials, not fripperies – like a replacement electric heater. Andy tried to imagine living on so small an income. He shook his head at the idea, then he thought he'd better remind Eric that he had a personal chauffeur this time.

“Eric? Don't forget we've got the car. If you need anything heavy or bulky, like washing powder, now would be a good time.”

Eric was trying to decide which flavours of canned soup he would like. Normally, he only bought one at a time. Now, as he had transport, he thought he might splash out and buy two or three. He turned and nodded at Andy who was in charge of the shopping trolley.

Their lunch at the pub had reshaped their relationship. Their conversation had cleared the air of most of the misconceptions, though Andy suspected he was still on probation. He couldn't understand how he could have made such crass assumptions before his first visit. Yes, he hadn't paid much attention to the training, but he'd always thought his intuition was good. No wonder his client had taken such offence. Now, he saw Eric as a shy, introverted, excluded gay man. He was doggedly self-reliant yet inwardly, Andy thought, longing for the sort of recognition and friendship that only another gay man his own age could provide.

Just seeing Eric sitting there, crying for his youth, and everything he'd missed out on, had made Andy so grateful for the life he led. He and Adam had the occasional minor spat, OK, but they loved each other. Had Eric ever had anyone special? Andy thought the answer was almost certainly 'no'. That hurt. Him and how many others of his generation?

Andy continued mulling over that line of thought, while following Eric round the supermarket aisles with the trolley. He did at least remember to help the old man only when asked.

Andy knew little of the history of gay liberation, he left that sort of thing to Adam. However, he did know that Eric must have been growing up in the early 1960s, when being actively homosexual was still criminalised. At that time, he himself could have been sent to prison, just for making love to Adam. It made him feel sick, and angry as well. Why should it make any difference whom he loved?

He tried to imagine what it must have been like back in those days. Feeling on the edge of society, persecuted, and obliged to hide in the shadows. Living double lives. Having no way to communicate safely with other gay men. No email, texts, apps. Now he understood better why Adam still got so worked up sometimes. They were both so fortunate, and it did make him more aware of those men who had gone before them. The hard work needed to change society's attitudes hadn't come about by itself. No, not at all. Those gains made, had been at the expense of many brave souls. Men not afraid to make themselves heard and seen.

Andy sighed quietly. Serious thoughts. Ones that hadn't really occurred to him before. It made him more determined to help introduce Eric to life as an openly gay man.

They reached the checkout. The motherly checkout assistant obviously knew Eric, and smiled at him.

“Morning, Mr Whitehouse.” She looked at the heap of things on the conveyor belt. “You've been stocking up, haven't you? Oh, and you've noticed some of our special offers. They'll save you quite a bit of money. … Getting ready for Christmas, are you? It's always better to buy early, I find.”

Eric just nodded, and silently continued getting his packets and cans out of the trolley.

The checkout assistant started putting the items through. “Got your bags, Mr Whitehouse? You'll need more than one for that lot.”

Eric pointed to his usual cloth bag, and a couple of additional plastic carriers.

The assistant smiled in approval. “The number of people who forget, or can't be bothered, beats me.”

Eric grunted. “Doesn't take much remembering. Just part of the routine when I'm getting ready to go shopping.”

“Good for you. You wouldn't have thought it was that difficult.”

Andy noticed the assistant looking at him, and then Eric. Was she trying to work out their relationship? No harm in that, really. It must be a boring job, sitting on the tills, if she didn't take an interest in the people passing in front of her. The woman was putting things through faster than Eric could cope with.

“Eric? Shall I do the rest of the packing?”

Eric was now slowly placing his purchases into the cloth bag. He stopped for a moment, and looked at what was left. He nodded his agreement, then handed over the spare carrier bags. Andy was learning that Eric wasn't much in the habit of speaking, especially if he thought it wasn't necessary. As he got on with the packing, the old man paid, giving the woman several crumpled five pound notes.

“There's your change, love.” The assistant handed it over. “See you next week. You take care now.”

The old man's entire shopping for the week, plus some extras, came to less than a third of the cost of what he and Adam spent on food alone for the same period. Checking Eric's financial entitlements was top of the list of his priorities. He could only hope that the old man agreed.

Packing done, they made their way to the car park.

On the short journey back home in the car, Eric was silent, lost in his thoughts.

This was more like what he'd hoped for, although he still wasn't sure it was for real. One day he'd wake up, and it would have all vanished. Still, that was all the more reason to make use of what Andy was offering. Though he would have to keep reminding himself sternly not to become too dependent on the young man's help and support. Come the spring, Andy would most likely have better things to do with his time. Eric sighed. He looked out of the car window and realised he was nearly home. Already? Without the lift, he'd still be waiting for the bus at the supermarket. And he would've had the trouble of carrying everything.

They both got the shopping in, and put it away. Eric looked at his kitchen shelves with satisfaction. That looked better. He actually had a choice of what to eat. And some things in reserve.

He reached for the kettle. “Fancy a cup of tea?”

Andy finished his inspection of the leaky cold water tap. “Yes, please. While it's brewing, I'll just have a quick look round outside, if that's OK?”

“You'll be admiring the garden then?” The old man sounded faintly amused.

Andy flushed slightly as he was reminded of their first meeting. “No. More, looking at the cottage and seeing what needs to be done.”

Eric grunted, and went to sit down while he waited for the kettle to boil.

Andy went outside and stood, assessing things. Looking up, he could see a few loose roof tiles and even the odd one which appeared to be missing. It had rained hard the previous day, so it was obvious that the guttering was blocked or broken in a few places.

The windows needed cleaning. He could hardly see in through the accumulated grime and dirt. The overgrown bushes in the garden needed cutting back; that would allow much more light in.

When he went round the back of the cottage, he noticed the remnants of something on the brickwork. What was it? Graffiti, perhaps? Someone had tried to remove the spray paint, but hadn't done a very thorough job of it. Andy stared at it. He made out the word 'scum' quite easily. There had been something else next to it. That word had been almost completely erased.

What the … ? He went round to the front again to look more closely. Yes, he could just see small traces of the same white paint on the bricks. Oh, for god's sake!

He thought he'd better go back in. He decided not to mention the graffiti to Eric, but he definitely would to Adam. He needed to get to know Eric better before he started poking his nose into things which could lead to heaven only knew where.

As he opened the front door, he saw that Eric was still sitting in his chair.

The old man pointed at a mug. “Your tea's getting cold.”

“Sorry. Took longer than I thought. There does seem to be quite a lot that needs doing.”

Eric shrugged with a grimace. “The landlord couldn't give a toss.”

Andy raised his eyebrows in a question. Eric named one of the local landowners. Andy knew the name, but couldn't put a face to it. Adam might know him.

“Well, whoever he is, he's not above being taken to court, if necessary.”

When he'd finished his tea, Andy looked around inside the cottage. The wooden window frames looked rotten in places, the heating system was old, inefficient and probably didn't work properly. He went upstairs. The hot water tank wasn't properly insulated, and neither was the roof space. The bathroom ceiling was mouldy in places.

More than enough for enforcement action if the landlord couldn't be persuaded by any other means to upgrade the property. No wonder the place was always cold and damp. He was amazed that Eric had managed to keep reasonably healthy living there.

Andy's list of faults was getting ever longer. He went back downstairs to talk to Eric.

“OK, Eric. There's a long list of things that need attention, and we'll have to decide what order to do them in. Have you had any thoughts?”

Eric nodded. Andy smiled at him, encouragingly. “What do you think you’d like me to tackle first?”

Eric had already come to a decision. He had three fundamental things he wanted Andy's help with. First and foremost, he wanted to feel warm again. Lunch at the pub had reminded him what it was like. Afterwards, coming back to his cold, draughty home had been that much more of a trial. Even when he had the heating on, it made little impression on the penetrating damp.

Andy nodded as he listened, making notes on his tablet. He was adding his thoughts under the headings he and Adam had come up with on the evening of that first day.

“So, building repairs, and checking your pension entitlements. Those are pretty much top of my list, as well. We'll get the cottage warm again for you.”

Eric agreed, then continued. “I want to feel safe in my own home.”

Andy hesitated. Had this anything to do with the graffiti? If it did, Eric wasn't saying.

The older man expanded on his first sentence. “What I mean is, things like being able to use the bath again. The local council has been promising to install some stuff to help me for ages. As you'll have seen, there's no shower either. That bannister rail's on the way out. It needs replacing. The stairs are steep enough without worrying about that. Did you notice the state of the path outside? I almost slipped and fell on it the other day.”

Andy was tapping away on his tablet. He'd noticed that the paving stones were uneven, and sunken in odd places, and most of them were covered in moss. There were so many things. He needed to extract an action list from what Eric was asking, then decide how to proceed.

He glanced up at Eric, waiting for him to carry on. The old man was looking a little self-conscious, and wouldn't meet his eye. Andy hoped that they were getting past that stage …

“I want to discover more about what I've been missing …”

What? Ah, as in being gay, Andy guessed.

“In a way, you're turning into my real-life example.”

Andy smiled to himself.

Eric got to the point. “But I'd like to read about it as well.”

“OK. So, what? Biographies? Fiction?” Eric looked blank, so Andy elaborated. “Books about real people, or stories?”

Eric muttered something inaudible.

“Sorry?”

Eric cleared his throat. “Romances. Love stories. You know. The 'happy ever after' kind of thing …” Eric trailed off into silence, looking embarrassed. He tried again. “I know blokes aren't meant to like that sort of thing …”

Andy smiled at him. “Why not? If you're gay, that's what romance is, isn't it? Two blokes? There's masses of it online, and you can buy it in a digital format pretty easily, but that's not really any use to you, is it? I'll ask round and see if anyone has any books they would lend you.”

“I was hoping for these …” Eric picked up one of his talking books. “I can't really manage the print any longer. Not that the library has anything much to interest me.”

Andy had used the public library when he was a student, but not since. “Don't libraries still have LGBT novels available to read?”

Once again, Eric looked blank. “Pardon? L … G … what?”

Andy explained the acronym. “The letters 'LGBT' are something you'll get very used to seeing as you start to explore. Sometimes there're other letters added on. I imagine there won't be much of a gay fiction section in the library here, but you could ask.”

As soon as the words came out of his mouth, Andy knew that Eric would never ask. Or, at least, not then. He'd have a look himself the next time he was anywhere near the library.

Andy tried another tack.

“I think part of the solution would be for you to go to the optician's and get an eye test. It'd be free for you. In fact, I'm going to the city myself next week for various things. Why don't you come with me? Get yourself an appointment with the optician, and you could do some clothes shopping as well. There are plenty of places you could go.”

By which, he meant charity shops. Eric felt dubious – his last visit to the city hadn't been enjoyable in the least. All the noise, traffic fumes, and people hurrying everywhere with only time for themselves. He would be travelling with Andy though – that would be some protection.

Andy noticed his reluctance. “I think we should be able to catch lunch with Adam. Wouldn't you like to meet him?”

Eric smiled to himself. Now that sounded better. Another free lunch? He looked at Andy with a faint glint in his eye.

“You mean that good-looking lad who's been daft enough to get engaged with you? I'd be glad to meet him.”

They both laughed. Eric couldn't remember laughing in a long time.