No going back - 17. New way of living

The next week was horrendous, I was busy with work and the workmen were beavering away at the house. Colin was tearing his hair out as everything was taking far longer than it should and all his schedules were up the creek. Eventually, I gave up, left the new house to Colin and his crew, and stayed at the rental house, thankful I hadn’t given in to economy and tried to move properly into the new place.

I also spent rather longer in the office than intended. Francis was friendly, but slightly distant, which was fine by me. I was intrigued by Jo's comments about his proclivities, but nothing showed up, yet. I did, however, manage to chat to Jo more and we provisionally booked a date for a get together with her and her partner to learn more about the family. I warned her that my sister would want to come along, possibly her son and my boyfriend.

This latter, of course, got a reaction and I had to explain that no, my boyfriend had not moved up from London. This was a relatively new entanglement with a guy I'd met locally. I kept it simple, and omitted details such as the fact that he was a builder and that he had not been fully out when I met him. What kept the office gossiping though, wasn't my boyfriend but my family. It seemed that those whose families were from the area knew of our family and my connection to it remained a source of curiosity, even when I repeatedly explained that the business and most of the money had gone in the 1960s and that my Father had kept us largely away from any information about his family.

On Tuesday, I met Colin at what was becoming our usual take away. He was in a slightly more sanguine mood; there had been some sort of progress, and it looked as though they would be finished within the week. I would then have a house, to furnish and to decorate.

"How are you on interior design?"

Colin's eyes widened in alarm, "I renovate houses, I don't design the interiors."

"Perhaps you should think about that as a sideline", I gave him an impish grin and squeezed his hand, "Anyway, would you help with the designs and stuff? I have some things in storage in London that I'll be bringing up, but there's not a lot really. And there are a lot of things I don't have. Like a bed, for instance."

"The stuff at the house where you’re living?"

"All belongs to the landlord, except for small, personal things."

"So, a visit to IKEA", he smiled, "I love going to IKEA."

I blinked at him, "Are you mad? No-one loves going to IKEA."

"I love their ideas, a lot of it is so clever", he beamed at me, "and the food is good too."

I shook my head, "So, you want to visit Scandinavia?"

"Visit, you mean go to IKEA there?"

I laughed, "No, daft thing", and I squeezed his hand, "just go to Denmark, Sweden or Norway. You'll get food like that, and well-designed furniture and buildings."

"Clean", he nodded, "and expensive."

I shrugged, "A weekend? There is somewhere that I've always fancied visiting. The Viking Ship Museum in Oslo. There are other Viking ships, but they have three. Oslo for the weekend?"

"Viking ships. Real ones?"

"Yes, they were excavated out of mud which had special properties to preserve them."

"Anaerobic, the bacteria can't survive so they don't break the wood down."

"You're a mine of information. So, yes, that."

"I thought you weren't interested in history?"

"Well, I have a limited appetite for old buildings, I suppose, but I like them in moderation. And I saw a TV programme about the Viking ships, being excavated and all that, and there was something about being preserved for 1000 years or whatever. Anyway, IKEA and decoration?"

"And Norway. Yes, I'd like that, to visit there but also to help you pick colours and things."

"Speaking of picking colours and things, what are you planning to wear when we go to Ten Tons of Fun on Saturday? We are still on for that, aren’t we?"

“Yeah, we should be finished, and the boys can cope on their own with Saturday morning, it’ll just be final bits and pieces.” He smiled, “Do them good. As for what I’m going to wear,” he looked at me as if I was an idiot, "well, t-shirt and jeans. What are you planning on wearing?"

I had to think there. Normally, there would be little worry, but I didn't want to scare Colin off, on the other hand Ten Tons of Fun was supposed to be something of a safe place. "Would it embarrass you if I wore a jock-strap?"

"A jock-strap, I thought... Oh, you mean just a jock-strap? Wow, do guys do that", then he thought and went a bit pink.

"You saw some sights on your last visit?"

"Yeah, a guy bigger than me, in nothing but a jock strap"

I smiled, "If you've got it, flaunt it. Look, if it bothers you then I'm happy in t-shirt and jeans or something. It's just I used to be a bit of a club bunny and liked showing off. There are even places where they let you wear nothing but boots."

"Wow. You do that?"

"Well, not recently. But I used to", I put my hand on his arm. "Sorry, I used to be rather trashy and liked showing it all off, and I mean the lot”, I gave him what I hoped was a comically salacious grin, “I assure you that I've calmed down but sometimes..."

"You want to let go", he gave a bemused smile, "Would I have to?"

"Wear a jock-strap? There's no have to. The club has no dress code remember, that's the idea. I think that you have to have your bits and bobs covered in the bar areas and the dance floor, but that's about it. I have seen guys take everything off in the back, but then all sorts of things happen there."

"Yes, I was amazed."

"And fascinated?"

"Yes. I don't think I'd dare to go too far." He went a bit pink and dropped his voice, "Though I did some stuff in the dark, last time."

"Good", I grinned, "That's what the place is for, having fun. But we don't need to do it in public. We have a nice hotel room for that. We are going for a bit of fun, a drink and a dance."

"OK. And I think I'd like to see you showing off, so yes, a jock-strap is OK, if you don't mind me in a t-shirt and jeans."

I grinned, "You can wear what you want."

"Besides", he smiled, "I don't have a jock-strap."

"That can easily be remedied, I'd love to measure you for one, sir!"

"Where are we staying, you said you'd sort out a hotel?"

"I booked one a short walk from the club, a nice modern place. Nothing too fancy."

"Isn't the area a bit rough?"

"Not anymore, it's up and coming, and popular with tourists. There are still a few grungy bits, but then that's true of most parts of London. What do you want to do about eating on the Saturday, there used to be a couple of nice, family-owned Italian restaurants near London Bridge, so not far away."

"That would be nice. By family, you mean Italian families?"

"Italian British, I suppose, now. A lot of Italians came over after the war and opened restaurants and got into the ice cream business too. One or two still sort of survive."

Thursday came soon enough, and when I finished work, I tidied myself up and walked to Mhairi's. It was a fair old walk, around 45 minutes not going too fast, but it helped clear my head. I didn't want to arrive too early, and gate-crash Colin's advice session with Mhairi, I thought that keeping family and business separate was a good idea.

The walk was funny, because it wasn't one that I had done when I was living with my parents, and though it went through areas that I had known, I saw them in a different light, many had changed and were sometimes unrecognisable, then I'd get an 'Oh, yes' moment when I realised that the corner house with the modern frontage had originally been a sweet-shop that we used sometimes. I arrived at Mhairi's house with rather a lot of ghosts and memories swirling around, though luckily Mhairi's estate wasn't one that I'd been very familiar with.

"No car?"

"I walked over from Pocklington and figured that Colin could give me a lift back in his van."

"Walked? It's not a very pleasant walk, is it?"

"I don't know, I sort of had fun trying to recognise places. That garage on Thorncliffe Road has disappeared entirely, which confused the hell out of me, and the sweet-shop over by Christ Church is how a house", I shook my head and Mhairi laughed as she ushered me in. The hall had a selection of photographs on the walls, mainly studiously posed ones and I even recognised a few of us when we were growing up.

"Bloody hell, I remember that holiday."

"Rained every day."

"And Dad insisted we go to a service in that strange Nissen hut painted pale blue."

Mhairi smiled, "You know, I'd forgotten that bit. I was digging through the photos and whilst I wanted some of them, of us, up, I was struck by how few photos brought back happy memories."

"The happy bits were the ones that were more off-grid."

"Yeah, I like that. Off grid. You used to go walking with him."

"Yeah."

Mhairi sniffed, "Wish I'd been able to do more of that."

"You were there, I remember."

"Yeah, sometimes. But often Mum would make me stay behind with her so we could do our sewing."

"Bloody hell, I'd forgotten all that. Sewing for refugees, wasn't it?"

"Hmm. You know, I still hate sewing and mending."

But there was a shout from the kitchen, clearly Joe's voice. Mhairi laughed, "I told him that when you arrived, he could have a beer with you and Colin. So he's been desperate for you to arrive" She peered at me, "You do drink beer?"

"Yes, certainly."

The kitchen was a warm friendly place, it was clearly the room most used with a big table at one end and a cooking area the other. There was a window, overlooking the garden, but the back door seemed to lead into further smaller rooms, I could see why Mhairi would want to alter things. There was a year-planner wall chart covered with scribbles and notes, a cork-board with all sorts of papers pinned to it, and others fastened to the fridge with magnets.

Mhairi saw me looking, "Welcome to our filing system. We've tried other ways, but if it isn't in front of him, this one can forget", and she ruffled Joe's hair. His response was 'Mum', but it was affectionate. Colin, sitting opposite the door, smiled at me and I thought, what next, but then decided that boyfriends kissed didn't they, so I went over and gave him a kiss and an awkward hug.

Mhairi had brought out four cans for beer, nice stuff, some IPA from a local brewery.

"Sorry, I should have brought something, but I didn't think, and I wasn't sure."

"Whether we were still tea-total at home", Mhairi raised her eyebrows, "I'm ashamed to say that I came off the wagon at college and manage to slip crafty one after work sometimes. Nathan did the same. Caused all sorts of problems when Joe grew old enough to notice and have opinions", she pulled a face. "Children are often your harshest critics."

"Mum, I don't think Owain and Colin want to hear about our arguments over Church."

I laughed, "Anyway, how was Colin's advice session?"

It seemed that it had gone well, and Colin was going to send her some quotes and detailed proposals. Which was good. That led us on to my new house and the progress, which was also good. "I'm looking forward to having everything finished."

Joe looked eager, "When are you moving in?"

I shrugged, "Well, that's to be worked out. I have a storage unit in London to get emptied and brought up here."

Colin's face lit up, "I've had an idea. I could hire a van and we could empty the storage unit on Sunday, whilst we're in London."

Mhairi looked at me quizzically, "You're going to London?"

"Just for Saturday night, we're going out on the town."

"Oh, where?"

"A gay club that I used to frequent and which, it turns out, Colin has been to and enjoyed. So we are going for a bit of fun. And, it looks like, some hard labour too."

"So, I'll sort a van, then?"

"Yes. A brilliant idea. I wonder if those storage places have skips as well?"

"Skips?"

I sighed, "I'm pretty sure that a lot of stuff I stored, I won't want. And there's lots of stuff I need. Like a bed?"

Mhairi got up and went to fetch the food, it was a one-pot dish that had been cooking since the morning. She was using one of those crockpot things where you cook slowly, I always associated them with pictures of the 1980s, but she assured us that it was a great help. She ruffled Joe's hair again, "Even this one can use it."

"Can you still buy them?", Colin seemed surprisingly interested.

Mhairi shrugged, "I suppose so. Mine was a wedding present. Why, you thinking of getting one?"

"I was wondering, but I thought it might be good for Owain. We're going to start him cooking and that sort of thing might work well for him."

"There are some dead easy things you can do." And with that, my big sister and my new boyfriend were arranging my life for me.

At the end of the meal, Mhairi had handed me a letter, it was addressed to her and from a firm of solicitors in Manchester. They’d taken a preliminary look at the issues surrounding Grandfather’s will, etc, etc.

“Are they any good?”

“Lawrence has had them recommended and I figured that there would be less risk of them knowing Dad and his cronies.”

“Fair enough. What did the Netherwich firm say?”

She gave a smile, “Don’t know. I never contacted them. Leave them to stew as far as I’m concerned and let the Manchester firm handle it. I thought we could go and chat to them.”

“Sounds a plan. At least they’ve not laughed in our faces. I can be pretty flexible; can you see if you can fix a date to go to Manchester.” She nodded but looked concerned. “Is there a problem?”

“Is it OK, if I bring Joe?”

“Me? What for Mum?”

She looked from me to Joe and back, “Because it concerns you as well, it’s about your inheritance and I don’t just mean diddly-squat, there’s quite a bit. Lawrence pointed out that we might be due something significant for not getting any income from the trust for around 20 years.”

“Mum!”

“Is that OK with you, Owain?”

I nodded, “Seems like a good idea, actually. But Joe”, I grinned at him, “be prepared for it to be boring.”

He rolled his eyes, “But I have to miss school?”

Mhairi sighed, “Probably. We’ll see.”

We didn't stay too long, but it was pleasant to have what felt like a normal family dinner. The only serious wrinkle came when Mhairi brought up Colin's Mum. I'd mentioned at some point that she lived in Leighton and that Colin went to see her a lot, and I gathered he and Mhairi had had a chat about her. Colin looked at me, he looked uncertain about how much more to say.

"You want me to explain?"

"Please."

"Right. I don't know how much you picked up on Sunday. But when I met Colin, he wasn't out to his family or his workmates. We were going to live with that, separate lives and all that?"

"Your Mum didn't know at all?"

Colin shook his head, "No."

"It's true of a lot of guys, they build a life separate from their parents and the two never meet. But the other Saturday, ten days ago, Colin stayed over, and we slept late, very late. Colin was due at his Mum's; he was late and got aggro from her and his brother. His Mum assumed that he'd had a girl staying over and Colin got annoyed, said it was a guy he'd been seeing and walked out." I shrugged, "Then, in short order, we find out that his elder brother is a homophobic right-wing nut job, and his Mum seems content to parrot everything said big brother says."

"Oh Lord, family joys."

"Precisely."

"Sorry, it’s such a mess. But then we've hardly been a model example of how to handle having a gay son, have we?"

Colin and I were in his van, driving back from Mhairi's, quiet at first, but then he turned to me, "Is your sister OK, I kind of heard some of the stuff she was saying in the hall."

"I think we are both still dealing with it. I might have been kicked out on my ear at 18, but I managed and made my own way in the world. Mhairi stayed and it was a long time before she realised, she was trapped."

"And her husband sounds as if he was like your Dad."

"I think that was the idea. So, Mhairi sees me with my independent life and realises how much she's missed. We're going to have to work on things and the relationship will always be prickly. And sorry, if I butted in just now, when we were talking about your Mum."

"I was relieved. I still don't know how to mention it, you did far better."

"You need to practice your elevator pitch."

"You what?"

"It's a job-seeking term. The idea is that you pitch your skillset in the time it takes you to go up in a lift with the important person. But it applies to lots of things."

"How to say it in a short, snappy way."

"Yes. I think that would help with explaining to folk about relations with your Mum."

He pulled a face, "Miles phoned me at work the other day."

"At work?"

"Yeah, I saw who it was and took the call."

"Regretting it?"

"Heaps."

"Let me guess, annoyed because you've upset your Mum?"

"Yep. How dare I let my life choices upset family life."

"Choices?"

"I tried to explain but he wouldn't listen, and proceeded to go on about how rude you were."

"He doesn't get it?"

"No. We had hard words, I told him I didn't want to hear from him if he was going to behave like that."

"Shit. What about your Mum?"

"Getting her without Miles is difficult. I figured to leave it for a week or so."

"Let things cool down?"

"And let her think about my not being there."

"Will Miles and his wife knuckle down?"

"Not on your life. Miles uses the twins as an excuse, and Annalisa genuinely does have her hands full, what with twins, a part-time job and a lazy bastard for a husband."

I put my hand on his knee, "Look, we didn't discuss this, but would you like to stay?"

"Tonight?"

"Yes. It's early. We could have a drink and well, if you felt frisky?"

He smiled, "OK. That'd be nice. But I've got no clothes."

"You have your work clothes with you?"

"Yeah, I changed into me good stuff when the guys had gone."

"Well wear your work stuff tomorrow and if you're worried about knickers, it's not the first time you've gone commando, is it?"

He laughed, "No", and I put my hand on his knee.

"I still remember the lovely sight."

"Of my hairy bum?"

"Perfect!"

Luckily, we had reached the house. We kissed and I started to undress him, slowly. When his clothes were lying in a pool on the floor, I quickly slipped mine off, then I stepped back and smiled,

"So, what would you like to drink?"

"But we're...", he gestured to his naked body and distinctly perky dick.

"You don't have to be dressed to have a drink, no-one can see, and the house is nice and warm. Besides, we can do more than one thing at once", and I tweaked one of his nipples. He responded to that, but also muttered that he'd have a whisky. So we got cosy and friendly. It was a nice way to end the day.

---

Colin was a man of routine, so we got up horribly early. I could see that if we ever lived together, I would get a lot of work done in the mornings. If we ever lived together? That had simply popped into my head, where from? We hadn't known each other long and, well, it was his first proper relationship. But a voice in my head responded, and yours too. We'd see.

It was something of a frustrating day. I had photos from Colin to show the finished results at the new house, but I had meetings all morning and when my final one ran on, I realised that I hadn't time to pop into the house to see the final results. I had to go over to the office for an afternoon meeting. Bum.

Then after the meeting, Francis, Jo and I were going to have a team meal together. Oh, joy. I'd gone over in a cab on the basis that I might need to drink to sooth the pain. The afternoon meeting was very profitable, and we had a new project out of it, which was exciting. Francis drove us over to a pub, not a big road-house but a smaller, friendlier place where he seemed to be known. It had clearly once been a rather nice pub but was now much more of a bistro-restaurant serving 'pub classics', whatever they were.

It wasn't the most exciting of evenings, but as work bonding events went it was surprisingly enjoyable. And there were a couple of surprises, too. It turned out that Francis lived with his long-term girlfriend. I had had difficulty keeping my face straight, when I learned that, after Jo's comments about his tendency to get friendly with younger male members of staff. It seems that he was firmly in the closet, at least officially so. But when Jo went to the ladies, Francis was asking me what I thought about so-and-so a waiter, in a way that was nothing untoward, at least on the surface, but had something of comradely element to it. I rather disliked the way he put me in a spot. Having been out since I was 18 and having virtually landed in every job role with it clear that I was gay, I resented the way Francis wanted to be both chummy and to pretend that he was straight.

I had intended to keep quiet about Colin's travails. But when Jo came back from the loo, she asked me about progress on the house and I showed a few pictures, going on to joke about Colin saying how much he enjoyed IKEA, cue groans from both Francis and Jo. Then it was easy enough to sketch in Colin's family troubles and his forced coming out. Jo had evidently come out at Uni, and met her partner shortly after leaving there, so I told my story, cue a few more gasps. It wasn't deliberate, but Francis ended up being presented with a range of different coming out stories. Talk moved on to more general office gossip, and my interest waned. Then Francis had a call from his girlfriend, which he took outside, leaving Jo and I to talk.

"How's your boyfriend, Colin, doing? A bit eventful for him."

"Yeah, when I first met him, he wasn't out at all, and now all this has come out. I think he's having to come to terms with the fact that his big brother is simply a homophobe who can never accept Colin being gay."

"And his Mum?"

I shrugged, "Is currently parroting her elder son, and has so far used her age and plenty of moral blackmail to keep Colin on a tight leash."

"Which has now snapped."

"Precisely. Anything can happen."

"And you two?"

"Who knows. What was going to be a low-key relationship, where we gradually got to know each other and where I tried my best not to put Colin in tricky situations has turned into something else. He's met my family, and we seem to have got on OK."

"That's your sister?"

"Yes, she has rather come adrift from the church of our upbringing and has somewhat loosened her mental stays, though things are a bit tricky still."

Francis laughed, he'd returned during the conversation, "I find it tricky enough sometimes, getting on with my siblings and we've been a reasonably tight knit group all our adult lives, I can't imagine what it's like to try to reconnect with someone you last saw 20 years ago?"

We drew to a close shortly after. I think Francis' phone call was in the nature of a 'where the fuck are you' call, and frankly, I was happy to get off home. Of course, the taxi took an age, but Jo hung around to keep me company. We talked more about her partner talking to us about the family and the business.

"Would you be interested in doing a project on it?"

"A project, what sort of one?"

"Well, if we draw information together, I did wonder whether the present-day links might make it something we could put in the Central Library", she shrugged, "or even in the newspaper. They do have a supplement that comes out roughly monthly which explores local history."

"Blimey, I never though the family would be of that much interest. I'd need to chat to my sister and nephew; they might be horrified. But we were brought up in complete ignorance of the Glennister family history and the firm.