Ralph: Breaking free - 15. Panic, relaxation and parental musings

By Thursday morning, Ralph was feeling frazzled, low on sleep, anxious and freaked out.

The week hadn’t started well. A big client had dropped a bombshell; the job they were doing needed to be finished this week and the spec had changed. Ralph suspected that someone at the firm had taken their eye off the ball, but at least the clients were paying a hefty bonus. But it meant him and Ivor pulling three late-nights in a row to get back on top of things.

On Tuesday, grabbing a quick lunch with Therese, she’d turned to him, smiling, deceptively friendly ‘Well. Nolan?’ Of course, the girls had been chattering and it was OK, wasn’t it? He’d said that they were taking things slow, but that Nolan getting on with the girls was an important step.

She’d nodded, “He’s your boyfriend, official.”

Of course he was, wasn’t he? But the word had hit him in the solar plexus. And his mood wasn’t helped by a call from his Mother that evening, whilst he was still working.

>We have not seen you in ages, Ralph. Your Father and I were wondering if everything was all right?

That was Mother-speak for why haven’t you been in touch and get your arse over here quick.

“I’ve been busy, Mother, what with work and the twins.”

>You know that we love having them.

The response to that was, truthfully, that they didn’t love coming. Ralph swallowed and came up with a half-truth, “I had a work thing on Saturday evening, so Therese had the girls and as a treat I took them out on Sunday.”

>I see, dear.

Mother-speak for I know you’re a lying bastard. His Mother had always had a good bullshit detector. Almost without thinking about it, he continued, “And I’ve started seeing someone, though it’s early days yet.”

>That is lovely, dear. Who is it, and why don’t you bring her over for tea.

“Him, Mother. It’s Nolan, who coaches the twins’ football.”

There was an ominous silence, and his Mother was rarely lost for words.

>I see, dear. Are you sure, dear. It is up to you, of course, but I don’t think that is very suitable, is it? Your Father and I…

“Mother, I think I’m old enough to know my own mind. I’m not pretending that I’m someone I am not.”

>If you say so, dear.

There had been no further mention of the command to come to tea and Ralph was relieved that the conversation swiftly terminated.

“Problems?” They were still at work, and Ivor had slipped into the kitchen out of Ralph’s way during the call.

“Not really.” Ralph gave a nervous laugh, “Except I just told Mother that I had a boyfriend.”

“Fucking hell. Was it, you know, deliberate?”

“Not a bit. It’s just Mother has a top-grade bullshit-detector”.

Ivor grinned, “Tell me about it. And?”

“Evidently, I’m making a mistake. I don’t know what I want.”

“Come on, you’re nearly 35, not 15 for fuck’s sake.”

Ralph shrugged, “That’s about it.”

“Well, there’s one thing. You can’t unsay it, now.”

Ralph gave a bitter laugh, “And the twins won’t have to suffer tea with their grandparents on Sunday.”

---

But by Thursday morning he just wasn’t sure he could face Nolan or perhaps face doing things that reinforced the B word. He just wanted a quiet night in.

>Ralph. Is everything OK?

“Not really. It’s about tonight…”

>Yes?

Ralph paused, he shouldn’t, couldn’t lie. It all came out in a rush, “I’m knackered as I’ve had three late nights at work”, Nolan made as if to speak, but Ralph plunged on, “Then Therese was quizzing me about you on Tuesday and I had a call from Mother and ended up telling her I was seeing a bloke.”

>And how are you?

“Freaked out. Panicked and frazzled. I can’t face a restaurant. I just want to chill tonight.”

>Alone?”

“I know we said we’d go slow, but as soon as Therese asked if you were my boyfriend, I panicked, and I’ve not calmed down yet.”

>Lack of sleep and anxiety. A bad combination. You need a massage and some relaxation exercises.

Ralph laughed, “Thank you, doctor.”

>Look. You’ve got to eat. Tell you what, how about I pop round tonight with dinner. I can give you a massage and we can do some relaxation exercises. Just low-key stuff.

“Are you sure?”

>I told you. We can take it at whatever speed works for you. Seems like slow is about right, at the moment.

“Dead slow.”

>We’ve time, Ralph.

“Thanks.”

Nolan appeared at 7 o’clock, by which time Ivor had left and they had the project back into shape again, which was a relief.

Nolan kissed him and presented an M&S carrier bag, “They had dine-in for a tenner, so I went for it.”

Ralph grinned, “Thanks”, he looked into the bag. “Wow.”

Nolan shrugged, “Just what was left, prawn cocktail, potato dauphinoise and lamb steaks in red wine.” Then he stared at Ralph, “And no alcohol. Right? Bad for you, right now.”

“I’m sorry.”

Nolan put his hands on Ralph’s shoulders, “There’s nothing to be sorry about. You’ve a lot on your plate. You realise that I was 16 when I told someone I liked boys and came out to my parents at 18.”

“Shit. I suppose I should have had the courage of my convictions when I was 17.”

Nolan raised an eyebrow, “And miss out on the twins? And you’d have never come to Parborough would you?” He gave a crooked little smile, “And not met me.”

Ralph leaned against him and the two hugged, which turned into a good old-fashioned snog. And you know what, it felt good, having someone warm next to him.

Ralph looked up, “Would you stay? We might not do stuff, but it’s nice.”

Nolan smiled, “A warm body to wake up to?”

“Something like that.”

Nolan wiggled an eyebrow, “As it happens…” and he gestured to his other bag which, it turned out, had emergency over-night supplies.

In other circumstances, the massage might have turned into something erotic, and Ralph decided to park that idea for another time. But this time, it just did what it said on the tin. It was time well spent.

Dinner was surprisingly good, with no cooking apart from chucking it in the oven. And for a tenner too. Then instead of TV, there was relaxing music and calming exercises. And they went to bed early, cuddled and Ralph went out like a light.

---

“Are you my boyfriend?”

Ralph was sitting at the kitchen table, wearing his sleep t-shirt and boxer shorts (no twins, meant that he didn’t have to be so careful), whilst Nolan was just in a pair of cotton pyjama bottoms that hung really low, meaning that as the man fiddled with the coffee machine, Ralph got a lovely view of his bum crack and pert globes.

Nolan turned towards him, smiling, “Depends how freaked out that word makes you?”

“Well, after last night’s relaxation and a good night’s sleep, it strikes me that giving a name to something doesn’t really change things.”

“It is whatever you want it to be.”

“That’s what I thought. Boyfriend, I think”, Ralph nodded, and Nolan smiled at him. “Now, turn around, please.”

Nolan wrinkled his brow, “What?”

“Turn around, there’s something that I want to do.”

Nolan shrugged and turned, albeit with some reluctance. Ralph immediately pushed the man’s pants down, causing an exclamation but Ralph plunged on. He’d never rimmed anyone before, just had a vague idea of the theory, and Nolan certainly never expected something like that as a wake-up experience.

With a twinkle in his eye, and his pants still round his ankles, Nolan smiled, “I think we’ll have to get you relaxed more often. That was delightfully unexpected.”

“Was it OK?”

“More than OK. It was a lovely way to wake up.”

“It’s just”, Ralph went pink, “your pants don’t hide much. It gave me ideas.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“I was thinking. Next time we do the massage, can we both be naked?”

Nolan wiggled his eyebrows, “Wow. You certainly have good recovery powers. Good morning sex and erotic massage.”

But whatever might have happened next was cut short by the sound of the front door banging and Beth shouting up, apologising that she was early but had a call scheduled.

---

Friday morning, feeling a bit calmer, Ralph decided that he’d have to write to his parents and explain further. He couldn’t face another awkward phone call, going to see them was not on either, they’d never give him the chance to say his bit. He decided that he would draft something at the weekend.

Mid-morning the phone went, and Beth picked it up, then she mouthed ‘It’s Morrie’. Ralph sighed; they were up to date with Morrie’s work. What now?

“Morrie, to what do I owe the honour?”

>It’s not work. I was wondering what you were doing on Sunday.

“Sunday? Well, I’ll have the twins. Failing any better ideas, we might end up letting off steam at the Rec.”

>Letting off steam?

“Well, them, anyway. They are lively nine-year-olds, after all.”

>Do they like boats?

“Boats? We often go for a walk along the canal to look at the boats, though boating itself isn’t something we’ve done.”

>It’s just…

Morrie paused and sounded, for once, less than his ebullient self.

“If you can face the twins, then I would be more than happy to get together.”

>I’ve hired a boat on the river at Eldon.

“On Sunday?”

>It was for a trip with friends, but they’ve had to cancel.

“So, you have a boat and just yourself.”

>I wondered if you’d fancy a trip. Grab some lunch along the river.

“Messing around in a boat.”

>Something like that.

There was something Morrie wasn’t saying, but it did sound like fun. “I’ll warn you, the twins can be hard work, and I can’t guarantee that they won’t be seasick.”

>On the river?

“I assure you; we’ve had worse.”

>I’ll risk it.

“We’ll need life jackets for them. They’re nine.

>Consider it sorted. And I’ll collect you. I plan to give the old lady a jaunt.

“Old lady?”

>Wait and see.

But there was a bounce in his tone again.

---

Norman wondered where they’d gone wrong. He sighed and stared out towards the golf course. Sheila was playing in a ladies’ match, and he’d opted to come to the club. Only there was no-one to talk to, except Oliver, who made Norman’s skin crawl. Why on earth the committee had allowed a shirt-lifter like that to become a member; who knew what disgusting habits he might bring to the club.

Which brought Norman back to his son, Ralph.

Where the hell had they gone wrong? The lad had been doing promisingly, Norman had seen a decent university and a proper career ahead for the lad. Then Ralph had met that boy, been seduced and somehow things were never the same again.

Norman and Sheila had been prepared to accept that the affair was an experiment, after all, teenage lads need a bit of fun. They need to learn. But with a boy, and from a family like that. The parents were bloody hippies. Disgusting riff-raff.

Afterwards, something seemed to have become unpinned in Ralph, and they couldn’t seem to repair it. The arguments had started, about the university Norman had chosen for him, the degree course, everything. Ralph couldn’t see it was for the best, and he threatened to simply change course once he was at University, and he was over 18. As if that mattered, Norman knew what was best, what a good course was. The course Ralph insisted on wasn’t bad, per se, and they had supported him for the duration of the course, despite everything, because no son of theirs was going to be reduced to doing menial jobs at University in order to survive.

He sighed, where had it come from. The lad wasn’t stupid, Norman had to admit that. Ralph had got a good degree, but instead of going into a proper profession, he’d got involved in this computer lark. It was building on sand when what he needed was the good firm foundation of tradition.

Therese had seemed to be a step in the right direction, but she had no interest in Ralph’s career, only his earning power. And Norman never trusted any woman who was so focused on her own career. He and Sheila hadn’t liked to make too much of it, but there was something distinctly a bit common about the woman.

The divorce had been a bit of a blow, but Sheila had hoped that they could steer Ralph towards a more suitable partner. Instead, he’d moved up to Parborough to be near his children, which was understandable but unfortunate, and he had started that stupid firm. Norman had looked at some of the companies Ralph was doing business with. They weren’t impressive, and the latest one was positively disgusting. Norman had been horrified when he’d looked at the website, all those images of nearly naked men. He’d needed a good look, to make sure he wasn’t wrong.

And now it seemed as if the lad had lost all decency. They all knew men who were interested in boys, in that way, but it wasn’t something you broadcast, not something to be proud of. Norman shuddered at the thought of what Ralph might get up to. And that his granddaughters were exposed to this.

But grandparents had no rights. He’d had a colleague look into it; he and Sheila were at a loss. It was entirely up to Ralph and his ex-wife. The woman was proving a disaster, letting Ralph get away with things. His granddaughters being brought up in a house where their Father was sleeping with a pervert.

Norman despised the man, even though he’d never met him. Any bloke who had seduced and corrupted his son. He wished Ralph would see sense, but as Sheila said, if he hadn’t when he was younger what chance was there now.

Norman had been moaning about it at the golf club the other day. A few years ago, he’d have kept quiet but there was no point anymore. His son was an admitted pervert, corrupted by another pervert, and happy to tell people. Ray had suggested that Norman could find someone who would solve the problem. Terminally. Norman had been shocked. He was a civilised being, wasn’t he?