Never Too Late To Explore - 16. Pride of Place

“Happy birthday, Eric!”

Andy sported a beaming smile as he and Adam chorused their greeting. Their intended recipient sat opposite in a quiet corner of The George's restaurant area. Eric's eyebrows were up, but he still raised his glass of orange juice in acknowledgement.

“Are you sure you don't want to try any of the wine?” Andy raised his glass in return.

Eric stared back. “Why should I aim to develop a taste for something I can't afford to buy?”

“Just for special occasions? Go on, give it a try.” He proffered his untasted glass of red.

Adam looked sideways with a faint warning expression.

Eric accepted the challenge and took a couple of sips. His face screwed up. “And this is what folk spend a small fortune on? I'd sooner drink water, thanks.”

Both younger men laughed as the glass was handed back. Andy gave a slight shrug to his partner.

The older man returned to perusing the menu. Andy smiled to himself – he could tell Eric was studying each and every item offered. He only had to watch the way an index finger progressed slowly downwards, presumably pointing at each description in turn.

Eric frowned. “If the chap who writes this drivel goes into any more detail, I'll know the name of the animal which is going to be sat on my plate.”

Adam snorted. “They do go overboard on the provenance, don't they?”

“And whose garden the veg comes from.”

Andy smirked at his partner. “You're the one for local sourcing…”

“Yes, but supporting local producers doesn't mean you have to write a paragraph of flowery nothingness for each dish.”

“True.” Andy opened his mouth to continue, but was cut off.

“I want to know what the food is made of.” Eric brandished his menu. “People like you two lads might understand all this French stuff; I don't.”

Andy leant over. “Good point. OK. I'll give you a brief rundown, then any you're interested in, I'll give you a better description.”

As the two of them murmured over the menu, Adam sat back. The dining room was far from being deserted: the reputation of The George ensured that even on a Tuesday evening, there was a reasonable smattering of diners.

Andy returned to looking at his own menu. There was a silence lasting a minute or two. “You decided on anything?”

Eric looked up and peered over his glasses.

“Don't forget Adam's got limitless credit.”

“Excuse me?” Adam's indignation made the other two chortle. “Not that it'll affect you, Eric, in any way, but it's Andy who's footing the bill on this auspicious occasion.”

“Well, whichever of you it is, he'll need to have deep pockets. That's for sure.” Eric frowned at the menu. “Some of these main courses cost over fifteen pounds each. I've never seen the like.”

Andy smiled. “It's your birthday. Enjoy it.”

“Speaking of special occasions …” Adam reached under his chair and produced a carrier bag. “Would you like your presents now or later?”

Their friend's eyes opened wide. It was clear the bag contained more than the one art book Eric might have expected.

“It doesn't feel right to be opening such things in public. But …”

At this point, one of the wait staff appeared, an unopened bottle of wine in her hand. She held it out, not sure who to offer it to.

“Compliments of the house.”

Andy accepted it. “Oh… Thanks?”

“It's someone's birthday.” She looked at each of them in turn.

He raised one eyebrow slightly: the staff were alert enough to notice a birthday celebration, but they hadn't briefed the woman properly. Either that or she'd forgotten.

Whatever. “Yes, indeed.” He indicated Eric, who looked faintly bemused. “Thanks. That's great.”

“Would you like some clean glasses? A corkscrew?”

A quick glance at the others confirmed his view. “No, thanks. We'll take it with us and save it for another time.”

“OK. Enjoy! Shall I come back in a couple of minutes to take your order?”

This time, Adam answered. “Yes, we're nearly there, but not quite.”

As she left, he placed the bag on table, fitting it in between all the cutlery and glasses. “Now's the perfect time, Eric.”

Eric gave a resigned half-shrug. Andy thought there was some amusement behind it all as well.

“And this is the perfect place to have wrapping paper everywhere?” He eyed the bag. “It looks as though the pair of you have money to burn.”

Andy sniggered quietly. “Oh, we don't have bonfires that often.” He and Adam spent quite some time debating what would be acceptable gifts for a friend who didn't have much himself.

Eric pulled the bag towards him and peered inside. One by one, he fished out three packages together with an envelope.

Just then, the same young woman returned, bearing a tablet computer. “Are you ready to order?”

Everyone nodded. Eric picked up the menu, found his items in the list, and carefully said what he wanted, making no attempt at the French pronunciation. The others followed. They all settled for the same starter of Pâté de campagne with toasted soda bread, but when it came to the entrées, each had their own request.

All were heavily dependent on meat. After the woman left, Eric shook his head. “This isn't a place to come for one of your meatless days.” He eyed Andy.

He shrugged it off. “Hardly… but a good dose of red meat once in a while doesn't do you any harm. Even we only come here for high days.” His eyes asked a question of his fiancé.

“You expect me to remember when we were last here?” Adam assumed a thoughtful expression. “Was it Valentine's? … No, that was somewhere else. Your birthday?”

“Sounds likely.” He turned to Eric. “So it's been six months since we've eaten here.”

“I can't imagine either of you has starved in the meantime.”

Both younger men recognised this as their friend's dry humour.

“Very true.” Andy indicated the small heap of presents. “Time to open them? We'll have several minutes before they bring the starters. The service isn't very quick here.”

Eric stared at his parcels as if he didn't know what to do with them. He tugged at one of the ribbons. The wrapping paper fell open, revealing the art book from the shop in Leominster. There was a brief flick-through followed by a “Thanks” before he continued with the other two packages. They each held a book of recipes aimed at those cooking on a tight budget. Illustrated with bright, tempting photos, the first of the books caught Eric's attention. He opened it at random and started reading.

“I'm sure you'll find several things that'll suit you. They all look tasty.” Andy crossed his fingers.

“Hmm…” Eric nodded, but didn't look up. After a moment he continued. “I bet any result of my cooking won't look anything like this picture. Or what I see on those cookery programmes.”

“Who cares?” Adam leant forward. “I don't reckon either of us could make anything ready for food photography. As long as it's good to eat and you enjoy it – that's the aim.”

“If you say so.” Eric put the book down, having dog-eared the page first.

Andy was relieved. Hopefully he'd get some cookery questions in amongst all the others. It gave them another topic to chat about as well. He'd better ask whether his client needed any additional utensils or extra pans.

Eric's hand reached out for the envelope. Again Andy held his breath. He chewed at a fingernail. Adam's smile of support caught his eye. He smiled back. Their birthday guest spent some time admiring the card – another picture of a garden, like his Christmas card – before he opened it up. A plastic credit card of sorts fell out. Eric picked it up and examined it, turning it over.

Puzzled, he held it up. “What's this when it's at home?”

“It's a gift card: like gift tokens, only the balance is recorded on the card.” Andy took the card briefly to show Eric the name of the issuer. “West's is a large nursery and café about ten miles south of us. I thought we could spend an afternoon there while you choose whatever takes your fancy. Think of those gaps in your beds – this could be one way to fill them.”

Eric's jaw hung open. He shook his head. “This is too much. I can't accept you spending this much on me.”

Andy sighed inwardly. The older man's objections scarcely came out of the blue. Fortunately, Adam and he came up with a strategy earlier. Would it work?

“Eric, how much did you have in your pocket for your day in Leominster?”

“You know as well as I do, it was forty pounds.” He sniffed loudly. “Extravagant of me.”

“Well, perhaps you think that because you're not used to spending money on yourself. Having some well-deserved fun. Anyway, what we've got you in presents adds up roughly to the same amount. The gift card's got twenty pounds on it; the other stuff came to nineteen pounds something. Think of the card as an afternoon out for twenty quid. How does that sound?”

Eric stared at his presents.

Adam voiced his thoughts. “And maybe another reason we did it was because we enjoy buying presents for a dear friend.”

As at Christmas, Andy watched the emotions play across his friend's face. Then it was for a pack of coloured pencils and a block of paper. Now was for rather more; he knew they took a risk spending that amount without sounding Eric out first.

“You're looking to spoil me. And you know I can't afford to treat you in the same way. And how about this fancy meal?”

Two different but closely related issues. Adam pointed out what he thought were their starters coming out of the kitchen.

Andy hastened to close the subject before they started on their food. “Eric, you know you repay us in different ways. Your life experiences, gardening knowledge, who you are: they're no less valuable. We may have money; you have many other things to offer us.”

He smiled across the table. The other man didn't return his smile; instead he hesitated a moment before putting everything back in the carrier bag and taking possession of it.

Was that acceptance? He could only hope it was.

Eric savoured the rich, meaty sauce – or was it a gravy? – of his Boeuf bourguignon. He wished he had a thick slice of bread with which to mop it up. As it was, he tried to get some of the remainder onto the final button onion. He licked his lips with satisfaction, and put his knife and fork down.

“I don't think I'll need to eat again until the day after tomorrow. The beef was so tender, it nearly fell apart in my mouth. And those little pieces of salty bacon really set it off. Wonderful.”

Andy grinned. “Good. We'll make a food critic out of you yet.” He was still fighting his way through what Eric recalled as being a Pot au feu. “This is spectacular. I can quite see why the chef here has such a good reputation.”

Eric peered across the table at what remained in Andy's shallow bowl. “So what is a Pot au feu? I can't bring to mind what you said it was.”

“It's a classic French stew: three different cuts of beef, root veg and others, all slowly cooked together in this broth.”

Adam joined in. “It smelt delicious.”

Eric shook his head. “And there was me thinking I had a portion meant for two. Yours looked enough to feed a family.”

Adam smirked at that. “I took the sensible course of ordering the Steak au poivre.” He turned to Andy. “You'll have to work that off over the next few days.”

Andy shrugged. “Who cares? I'm hardly in an office job where I don't get any exercise.” He downed his last pieces of carrot and leek, also taking care to mop up the liquor. “I am full though.”

“Not often I hear that. So no need for the dessert menu then?” Andy frowned. Adam's smirk remained firmly in place. “So, Eric… what've you found on the internet recently?”

Eric blinked, taking time to get his thoughts in order. “Ehm…” Then he thought of Pride. Hadn't he been meaning to ask the lads about it? “I'm curious about Pride. I mean, might it be something I'd want to attend? Only as a spectator of course.”

Andy looked astonished. “Fuck me!” He slapped a hand over his mouth. “Sorry. … Why haven't I thought of that?”

Adam touched his hand briefly. “Nobody's going to think of everything, love.” He turned to Eric. “And your client does have a mind of his own.”

Andy frowned. “Yes, but it's coming up to Pride season so I should've thought of it.”

“Well, we're talking about it now. There's plenty of time before most Prides get going.”

Eric watched the exchange with interest. Andy's continuing work to introduce him to gay life was humbling, whatever the young man said about learning things from him. That was mostly rubbish anyway.

Adam turned to him. “We're going to Birmingham in May for their Pride celebration. It's practically a full weekend.”

“I wouldn't want to play gooseberry.” Eric recalled times staying at the lads' house which made him feel uncomfortable and sometimes sad.

Andy chuckled. “You never get in the way. However the Pride we're attending is a little too full-on for you, I think. The parade's pretty lively, and the music events are loud. And it gets very busy.”

“I'm not good in crowds.” Eric shuddered at the thought.

“How about our local Pride? There's one for Herefordshire as a whole.” Adam tapped away on his phone, searching for information, Eric assumed.

“In fact it's the Saturday following Birmingham's.” Adam continued scrolling. “The parade's late morning, so you could watch it, have lunch with us, and be back home by mid-afternoon.”

Andy joined in. “It's fun, and very welcoming and inclusive. It's nowhere near as crowded as Birmingham; or as risqué.”

“Pardon?” Eric grimaced. “I've had enough foreign words this evening to last me a month or two.”

The conversation halted as a server came up to clear their plates.

“Everything OK for you?”

Adam smiled. “It was delicious …”

“Awesome!” Andy chipped in.

“Shall I bring the dessert menu?”

This was greeted with smirks and surpressed sniggers from the two younger men.

Adam looked round the table. “Well?”

Eric shook his head. There wasn't one single unfilled corner of his stomach.

Andy did the same.

“We'll just have three teas. Err … Two lapsang souchong and one English breakfast, thanks.”

“OK.”

Left to themselves again, Andy picked up where they'd left off. “Pride can be a time when people let their hair down. They might take the opportunity to display elements of their personality not usually seen outside the home, for instance.”

Eric recalled some of the photos he saw on the computer and blinked.

“Why not support the local event? It'll be a great way to start.”

Eric briefly wondered if Rob ever attended a Pride before telling himself off. Why did he persist in thinking the other man was gay? Only fairy tales had endings like that. He dragged himself back to the present.

“You OK, Eric?”

Andy's concern made him reflect. Should he mention something about Rob?

Their tea arrived. Stirring, pouring, and in his case, the addition of milk, gave him a couple of minutes to decide.

“Ehm … I just recalled one of my old workmates …”

“Was he gay?” Andy's interruption earned him an eyeroll from Adam.

“I never discovered. It was hardly a subject you could bring up over a brew. Maybe I had a suspicion.” Did he really? “If he was, I thought he might take part in Pride.”

Adam shrugged. “If he is gay and he's stayed in the local area, then yes, perhaps. Though it isn't obligatory for every single queer individual to attend, you know.”

“Just highly recommended.” Andy gave a sly grin. “In fact, we haven't been to the local Pride for a couple of years.” He looked to Adam for confirmation. “We'd better get our card stamped as it were, this time around.”

“Yeah …” Adam returned to his phone. Eric continued to be amazed at how much time both of his friends spent staring at screens. “Ah, yes. I was up to my eyes in a case last year. No idea what our excuse was for the year before.”

Andy produced his own phone. “OK, let's make it a date then. I'll ask round to see where the best viewpoints are.”

Eric knew Pride would be another milestone on his journey. “Yes, please.”

“Good.” Adam retrieved his wallet from a pocket. “Right, I'd better get the check.” He signalled their server.

Eric knew only too well he wasn't one for speeches but the evening demanded he try. “Thank you both for your continuing generosity. This meal was fantastic. Out of this world. I'll never forget it.”

“We all enjoyed ourselves, Eric.” Andy was slightly flushed from the warmth and the food.

He realised he'd missed out something. “Ehm… and thank you also for your presents. I still say you spend too much on me and I'm sorry if it makes me sound ungrateful.”

“We would be happy to spend very much more.” Andy retrieved the unopened bottle of wine.

Adam, having paid, got up to help Eric with his coat. “I'm as pleased as Andy that you've enjoyed yourself this evening. Maybe we should come back here next year?”

Eric sighed. “Yes, we should.”