Never Too Late To Explore - 8. Mixed Emotions

Eric joined his hosts for supper later the same day. He hadn't got used to the changes in his routine which came from living with them. Or his stomach certainly hadn't. He was aware of it growling for ages before Andy even started preparing their supper. There didn't appear to be much in the way of snacks in the house. A search of the kitchen earlier drew a blank: not even the odd packet of biscuits. That was one thing he allowed himself now with his extra money: a packet of plain, own-label digestives. He still found it a treat to have one with his mug of tea. Sat in the large lounge, reading a book, he suffered more hunger pangs when a rich aroma drifted past from the thick ham and vegetable soup cooking on the hob.

He and Adam were now ready at the kitchen table, waiting for Andy to serve up. Adam had changed out of his work clothes as usual and was looking relaxed in chinos and a light blue sweater. Eric smiled to himself. He would still describe Adam as a clothes horse, but otherwise, whatever the other man used to mean to him, he was happy to get to know him better. Both lads had welcomed him into their home.

Adam fidgeted with the cutlery and took several sips from his water glass..

Andy noticed, in between filling bowls with soup. “You could always come over here and collect the food yourself, Adam.”

“Yeah, I could.” Adam smirked in Andy's direction. “I thought this caff offered table service.”

Eric looked on in amusement.

“For you, no.” Andy rolled his eyes. “Eric? Well, that's different. He won't be able to manage the bowl and his stick together.”

He looked to Eric for confirmation.

Eric stared at the large, chunky bowls. “I don't think I could carry one of those at any time without spilling soup everywhere.”

Andy was now cutting the freshly baked cob into quarters. He frowned at Adam. “See? So make yourself useful, love. Carry yours and Eric's.”

“Yeah … OK, I suppose.” Adam got up slowly, feigning reluctance. He shot Eric a sideways look.

As he passed Andy, who was now looking in the fridge for something, Adam locked an arm round his fiancé's waist. Eric watched Adam pull Andy back against his body. He gave Andy a squeeze and kissed him on the neck, where his beard ended. Eric imagined this was how they always carried on: joking, being affectionate, demonstrating their love for each other. Nothing had changed because he was there. That made him feel part of their family somehow. Or if not a relation, then a friend. A good friend.

Andy had slapped away Adam's restraining arm.

He turned round, trying hard not to laugh. “Get off me, you pest. I'll have you for sexual assault.”

“Oh, yeah? Two can play at that game, and I'm the lawyer.”

Andy rolled his eyes in mock-exasperation.

Meanwhile, Eric's stomach rumbled yet again. He surprised himself by joining in. “I'm getting ravenous over here. I'd be pleased if one of you young men could bring me my soup.”

“See?” Andy flashed him a quick grin, then glared at Adam. “Not only have you assaulted me, but you've also failed Eric by not doing your job in a timely manner.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Adam smirked, and gave Andy a quick kiss and a caress.

Then he reached round, picked up the two bowls with ease and walked back to the table. With a flourish, he presented Eric with his. “My apologies for any delay, Eric. You can't get the wait staff any more.”

Andy snorted, then followed up with his own bowl and the plate of bread. The three men settled down to eat.

A few minutes later, with their most immediate hunger dissipated, Andy looked over at Eric who was sitting opposite. “How's your day been, Eric?”

The older man swallowed what he was chewing. “Err … not bad. Didn't do all my exercises though – couldn't concentrate.” He shrugged his shoulders. “My friend, Brian Metcalfe, visited for lunch. We needed to have a chat.”

“Yes …” He knew the importance of it to Eric.

Adam stopped eating. “So how did it go? Everything OK between you now?”

Andy continued spooning his soup at a steady pace – it had been a busy day.

“Yes, I think so.” Eric looked puzzled. “He still didn't seem to realise the difficulties in being gay then, or now even. Never mind being open about it.”

Andy chipped in a reply before Adam was ready. “To be honest, why should he? Even now, few straight people involve themselves in current LGBTQ affairs, never mind where we've come from since the Sixties.”

Adam growled in his throat. “Statistically, our community is what … ten percent of the general population? Or thereabouts. Too bloody significant to be ignored, I'd have thought. We're expected to know straight history; it wouldn't kill them to know something of our community's history.”

Andy smiled to himself ruefully. “It would help if we all knew our history first, I think.”

He glanced towards his partner at the head of the table, and saw a nod of acknowledgement. Adam had that glint: he was fired up.

Andy got another point in first. “People younger than us are more accepting of difference, I think. Whether it's a question of ethnic origin, religious or spiritual practices, and yes, on sexual orientation or gender matters.” He noticed Eric raise an eyebrow. “Of course, it's still far from being universal.” He knew they were both thinking of the teens who used to invade the older man's space.

Adam took a drink from his glass of water before continuing. “That's true enough, though I do wonder whether it's a 'in the moment' kind of acceptance. How many straight people know anything about the 1967 Sexual Offences Act? Never mind its significance. Or how about the shameful, retrograde effect of the Section 28 debacle in the Eighties?”

Eric's face was a picture of furrowed concentration, then he looked up. “Section 28? Sorry, I've so much to catch up on.”

Andy smiled at him. “Don't worry, Eric. Remember what I told you – I'm not that far ahead of you in some respects. I've heard of it, but I'm fuzzy on what happened.”

He watched as his client tore the rough granary bread into bite-sized pieces. Eric picked one up and chewed on it slowly as if he knew it was going to be difficult to eat.

“We don't mind if you dip the bread in your soup, Eric. I do sometimes, but then I tend to slop the soup down whatever I'm wearing. Adam's father's the one for …”

Andy let the sentence trail off, realising he'd inadvertently strayed into dangerous territory. He turned to Adam. “Anyway … Section 28?”

He had nearly finished his soup, as had Adam. Eric was some way behind. The older man was always slower, but he'd spent so much time listening, he had nearly half a bowlful left.

Andy thought a quick reminder was in order before Adam got going. “Don't let your soup get cold, Eric. We need to feed you up, you know.”

Eric grunted. “I reckon you're succeeding already.” He peered down at his waistline. “If I eat too much more of your food, I won't be able to get into these trousers. I'm not made of money, you know. Unlike certain people, I can't afford to go out and buy a new wardrobe.”

Andy sniggered. “I wouldn't worry about that. You'll need all the energy to get better. Heal up all those bruises and cuts.” He turned to Adam once more. “Sorry, barging in front of you again.”

His partner shrugged. “That's fine, love. Don't want our supper to turn completely into some kind of political diatribe.”

Andy turned to grin at Eric. “This is in your honour, I think. Can't recall the last time we talked about this sort of thing.”

Adam pushed his empty plate away. “The 1980's were a time when being gay was slowly becoming acceptable, at least in some metropolitan areas. A few gay organisations were receiving funding from the public purse. Then AIDS hit, with all the resulting uproar and alarmist headlines. In the Tory heartlands, this was seen as a double whammy, giving them a god-given opportunity to suppress us, to try to push us back out to the margins of society. They whipped up an anti-gay storm in Parliament, and in the press. One result was Section 28 of the Local Government Act.”

Andy glanced over at Eric. He hung onto every word, his eyes only leaving Adam's face for a few seconds at a time, but he was still managing to eat. And he was dipping his bread to soften it. Andy had a sudden thought: dentist. That was yet another thing he hadn't talked to Eric about. His client was registered with a GP, but he'd never thought to ask about dental treatment. It was hard to find a NHS dentist with space for new patients anywhere. Something else to add to the list. No sooner did one thing come off, than another took its place. He got up to start clearing away, still listening.

“Its purpose was to prevent the 'promotion' of homosexuality by any publicly funded body …”

Both he and Eric heard the air quotes loud and clear. Adam's emphasis on the word made it clear what he thought of it.

“The result was, love, that when we were at school there were no obviously queer books in the school library, or the local town library for that matter. And there was no mention of gay relationships or sexual matters in the sex ed. classes we had. The wretched thing was only repealed in 2003.”

Andy searched his memory. “I don't think I expected anything different. Gloucestershire was hardly a forward-looking authority. I had my own computer by the time I started exploring my feelings. Even back then there was stuff to be found.”

Adam looked quizzical. “Didn't your parents monitor what you were doing?”

“Not particularly. And anyway, I knew infinitely more than they did about computers and the internet.”

“OK …”

Andy smiled. Adam had evidently learnt something new.

Eric appeared puzzled by something. “You went to a state school, Adam?”

Adam chuckled. “Yes … Sort of. Somehow our local selective grammar survived the wave of comprehensives. It's still got a very good reputation. So I went there. My father's always been tight with his money, and my education was no exception. My grandfather offered to pay any school fees, but he refused point blank. Don't think it made any difference.”

“What? As in you still made it to Oxford?” Andy decided a little tease was in order.

“Yeah, well, that was never a problem for you, was it?”

Andy giggled. “Hardly. I don't think Oxford has quite started a course in landscape design yet.”

Eric was staring at him. “You went to university to learn about gardening?”

“Yeah. In Birmingham. It's where I first met this one when he was starting out …” A quick kiss followed. “It's looking at gardens or landscape as a whole, not so much the individual planting.”

“Oh. You mean something that Capability Brown might have studied if he was alive today?”

Andy grinned. Trust his client to bring his hero into the conversation. “Yeah, I think he would. I learnt more about the plant side of things during the summer vacs. I was always working for one horticulture firm or another.”

Eric had finished eating. He let out a gentle burp of satisfaction. “Sorry. … Whatever I learned was on the job. Always. Different head groundsmen or gardeners had different ideas or new techniques. I never closed my eyes to new things though, unlike some people I could name.”

He handed his bowl over, then slowly hauled himself upright. Adam moved round the table to give him a hand. Both he and Andy had noticed Eric's ankle was worse in the evenings.

Adam waited until the older man was steady on his feet. “And that's often the best way to learn practical subjects. I'm sure you learnt a lot throughout your working life. Andy would do well to take note.”

“Excuse me! How many short courses have I been on since we've been together?”

Adam sniggered. “See, Eric? All theory…” Then he turned towards Andy and blew him a kiss. “Forgiven?”

“Maybe.” But Andy couldn't stop a smile as he took the dirty plates into the kitchen.

Eric sat in his own familiar chair in the still-unfamiliar lounge, waiting for the two lads to finish the washing up. All their furniture had turned out to be too low and squishy for him at any time, never mind when he wasn't so mobile. As soon as Andy realised that was the case, he drove round to his cottage and brought back his own chair. He watched the young man unloading it from the back of his 4x4 as if it weighed almost nothing. The chair looked distinctly shabby in amongst the rest of the furniture, but he didn't care.

Eric was thinking about sex education. Nothing remotely along those lines existed when he was at school. As a shy, withdrawn youth, he'd never been part of the whispered conversations at break times: those giggling, horny groups of lads exchanging sexual facts and fiction. Bundles of boasting, play-acting, testosterone on the loose, he avoided them like the plague. His parents had never taken enough notice of him to devote any time to explaining the facts of life. And anyway, his mother would've been so mortified, she'd never have got past the first sentence or two.

He must have been one of the most clueless, sexually ignorant lads around. Confused, not sure who he should be fantasising over, he felt he was a freak. Somehow he discovered bringing himself off with his hand, but that was the limit. It was one of his many regrets: not experiencing any affection, let alone sex, with anyone. Until Andy's kiss …

Eric felt one of his blue moods coming on when the other two men came into the lounge.

Andy led the way. “You OK, Eric?” The young man gave him a one-armed hug round his shoulders.

“Hmm …” Eric couldn't find the words.

His face obviously gave something away.

Andy leant in and gave him a gentle peck of a kiss on the top of his head. “You have us, Eric. We care about you. And other people do. You're not alone any more.”

Eric felt his eyes filling. He roughly brushed the wetness away with the flat of his hand and cleared his throat.

Andy picked up the TV remote. “I think we need a feel-good movie this evening, and I know which one I'd like. Any objections?”

Adam sat down on the sofa. “Gay?”

“Of course. In honour of Eric as our guest, if nothing else.”

He'd never watched a gay film. Ever. On the previous evenings, they'd watched whatever was on the standard channels while he was around. He never stayed up late, and felt even less inclined while he was aching and sore.

Andy snuggled in to his partner, clutching the remote. They made a picture of a companionable, loving couple. Eric thought it would never stale, however often he saw it. He turned his attention to the TV and watched as the opening credits of the film started to roll.

Much later in the evening, Eric woke up, needing the loo. Turning on the bedside light, he found his stick and eased himself out of bed into an upright position. As he shuffled, still limping, from his bedroom to the next-door bathroom, he heard a noise. Several noises. Then giggles, and a whispered 'Shhh …' The sounds all came from the front master bedroom. The door was partly open. Much as he wished to close his ears to give some privacy to everyone including himself, the noises dominated the silence. When he came back out of the bathroom, the sounds had become more rhythmical, accompanied by soft gasps and grunts.

Eric hobbled as quickly as he could into his own room and closed the door. Even a recluse like him knew what was happening in the other bedroom. It was another reminder of how much he'd missed during his life. Love, in all its many-sided glory, was something he'd never experienced. While he was glad for them both, it now made him feel like an intruder. He preferred how the three of them were earlier: joking together in the kitchen.

Well, he'd better get on with his exercises in the morning. The sooner he was properly back on his feet, the sooner he'd be home again. The thought made Eric nod his head in quiet determination as he climbed back into bed.