Soul Music: Love Sustained - 11. Singing The Same Tune

The two men were relaxing over an early mid-week supper when they heard the phone ring from the front room. Geoff's head jerked round: the only person who used it – apart from marketing scammers – was his mother.

“What the …?”

He jumped to his feet and hurried down the hallway, determined to get there before the answerphone kicked in. Anxiety mixed in with the adrenalin, and a cold sweat formed at his hairline. He had no idea what he was going to say if it was her.

When he grabbed the handset, the number showing on the screen was local but unknown to him.

He accepted the call. “Hello?”

In the moment before the reply came, he turned to see his boyfriend standing in the doorway, waiting.

Is that Geoffrey? Geoffrey Lumsden?

An elderly female voice, faintly familiar, but definitely not his mother's. He shook his head at Tony: he grimaced and went back to the kitchen.

“Yes. This is Geoffrey.”

Ah, good. It's Gloria Southgate here. One of your mother's friends.

Geoff recalled meeting her in the supermarket a couple of months ago, when he tried to keep her from discovering his relationship with Tony. God, that was an uncomfortable few minutes. Why was she phoning him?

“Yes?” He felt on high alert.

I understand your caution, Geoffrey…

“You do?” Geoff moved to the sofa. He might as well be sitting down while the phone call played out.

Yes, indeed.

He frowned.

Joy told me everything about your last visit. … Well, the one prior to her accident, of course.

A burst of hot anger erupted. “If you think …”

Young man! Please be so kind as to let me finish!

He took a breath. “Sorry.” He sat forward on the sofa, hunched in on himself.

You may be surprised to learn I disagreed with your mother.

He was. Geoff listened intently.

My great-nephew, Josh, came out as a homosexual, as gay, quite recently. He caused me to examine and then change my own attitude. I've learnt quite a bit about what being gay means to him, and from reading online.

“Oh.” He sat, trying to take it all in.

So now I'm attempting to educate your mother a little. Of course, it's mostly second-hand; but I can tell her about my own enlightenment in the hope it'll change her mind as well.

He blinked. “And?”

We had a … useful conversation this morning. We talked; Joy asked a few questions, and I believe we've made limited progress. She's still unwilling to speak to you though, so I decided to report back myself.

Geoff stared at the handset. “Err … OK. Thanks for doing this, err …”

Call me Gloria – that will do fine.

“Thanks, Gloria. I appreciate it.” Someone working on his behalf was humbling. And it was a serious attempt to change minds; not – as would've been the case with Helen – an impassioned argument which might've made matters worse. There was still a question though. “Why me?”

Apart from my reason, you mean?

“Yes. I'm hardly anybody special.”

I imagine your boyfriend would disagree with that, young man.

Geoff flushed: Tony would indeed have things to say if he gave voice to that kind of sentiment.

From what I know of you, Geoffrey, you're a good sort: a man who deserves not to be cast off when he opens his heart to his mother. One thing that's apparent is how isolated Joy's finding herself now. Something may well come out of that.

He took that in. “OK.”

One of the things we talked was …

A little later, still processing Gloria's phone call, Geoff wandered back into the kitchen.

Tony turned round from doing the washing-up. “I'd almost given you up for lost. Who was it?”

Geoff sat down and peered into the teapot. The liquid looked somewhat stewed, but his throat was dry. It would do. He poured himself a mug and took a gulp.

“That was Gloria Southgate, a friend of my mother's.”

“Hmm?” Tony dried his hands, then came and sat at the table.

“She's only trying to change my mother into someone who'll accept us.”

“Really?” Tony snorted. “Some people enjoy a challenge.”

“Yeah. Anyway, that was her reporting back from their first session, as it were.”

“Words and actions?”

“Indeed.” He half shrugged. “As you'd expect, there're no miracles. But apparently Mother asked a few questions and listened to Gloria's answers.”

“Maybe she's had time to think? Having to rely on the kindness of strangers could do that to you.”

“Yeah.” Geoff finished the rest of the mug. “It's certainly given me something to think about.”

“Something positive, hopefully.” Tony checked the time. “OK, if we're going to Helen's this evening, we'll need to leave soon.”

He shook his head. “You know, I'd almost forgotten about that. Yeah, let's get it over with.” The other man cocked his head. “Sorry, that came out wrong. Yes, I know this Wes might become a friend, but it doesn't stop me from feeling nervous.”

Tony smiled. “I imagine he'll be the one feeling under inspection. Try to relax, love.”

He grimaced in return. “As ever, easier said than done. I'd better go and change.” He was still in his work clothes. “Ten minutes?”

Tony stood up. “I'll finish off in here while you're upstairs. We don't want to keep Helen and her guest waiting.”

Tony jogged up the two flights of stairs to Helen's flat. Geoff knew if he tried that, he'd be a gasping wreck. Instead he settled for a brisk walking pace. Even that had him breathing hard by the time he joined his boyfriend outside Helen's door. Almost as soon as they'd rung the doorbell, Helen stood there, ushering them in.

“Hi, both. Welcome to my humble abode.” She noticed Geoff's pinkness. “Helps keep you fit, living up here. Though it's about the only exercise I get.”

He smirked. “You've got to work off those cupcakes somehow.”

“Beast!” She glared at him as he passed through into the flat.

Helen directed them the short distance to the living room. Although it was light and airy, it couldn't be described as spacious. With seating for the four of them, the room looked crowded. The opened French windows helped to make it seem larger. Geoff went and peered out over the balcony while Tony exchanged small talk with their friend. The grounds were plain grass with the odd shrub stuck in at intervals. Unimaginative it might be, but it was more than the modern blocks had. He'd be living there if his mother's house hadn't become available. He could cope with the cramped rooms, but not the lack of garden. Yet again, he breathed a sigh of thankfulness that his mother had agreed to the rental plan.

When he turned back to go inside, he heard Helen in hostess mode.

“Wes should be along shortly: he's back late from work. … Anything to drink?”

Geoff sat down next to Tony on the small sofa. “I've had enough tea for one day, I think.” He recognised the slightly strung-out feeling. “Something cold?”

Helen ducked next door into the kitchen. “Let's see.”

He assumed she was investigating the fridge.

“I've got fizzy water, with or without cranberry juice, orange, or apple and rhubarb.”

He heard the sound of things being moved around.

“Wait. Sorry, there's only about half an inch of the orange juice left.” Helen reappeared. “What d'you fancy?”

“Cranberry, without the fizz, thanks.”

Tony weighed up the options before settling for the apple and rhubarb, also straight up.

They'd barely got settled with their drinks when there was a knock at the front door. Helen leapt up to answer it. Geoff was grateful for the smile and hand squeeze Tony managed to fit in before Helen brought in the evening's main guest.

“Guys, this is Wes. Wes Simons.”

While uttering his own welcome and introduction, Geoff eyed up the new man. His inspection had a guilty, loaded edge to it. However much he recognised he shouldn't be doing so, he found it instinctive. The slight figure before them didn't give him much cause for concern on the surface. Geoff stopped. Who was he to make assumptions based on appearance? He was hardly the epitome of 'fit' himself. Talk about being petty. Like Tony said, he should give the guy a chance. His own friends could be counted on the fingers of one hand. Another would be a gain.

Helen took the new arrival into the kitchen to get him a drink.

While they were occupied, Tony leant in. “Well, d'you think he's gay?”

Geoff shrugged. “What experience can I call on?”

“You see all sorts at work. Take a guess.”

“He's only been here five minutes and he's hardly said anything. I reserve judgement.”

“OK …” Tony sounded a little disappointed he hadn't offered an opinion.

He rolled his eyes. “Alright, Mr Expert. What's your verdict?”

Before his boyfriend could answer, the other two came back into the room.

With everyone seated, they all waited for someone else to get the conversation started. Geoff looked towards Helen, expecting her to do the honours.The silence was getting uncomfortable when Wes took the initiative.

“I'll go first, shall I?” A smattering of relieved chuckles gave him his answer. “So how do you three know each other?”

Geoff didn't respond, instead awarding the man brownie points for having the balls to go first. It was also a good way of deflecting their interest for a short while. He wondered if Wes had experience in managing people.

Tony volunteered an answer. “Geoff and I live together. We're in a relationship.”

The bold, simple statement made him glow inside. It still had the power to astonish him. He watched the man opposite for his reaction. Maybe Tony had already concluded Wes was gay? Otherwise it was a risk making such an open acknowledgement. The new guy smiled without saying anything.

After a short pause, Tony expanded on his answer. “We first met backstage at a concert last year. I'm an amateur singer; Geoff's a percussionist.”

Helen chipped in. “How long's it now?”

Geoff smiled and looked in Tony's direction. Their eyes met. “Seven months.” Tony wrapped an arm around his middle and gave him a loving squeeze.

Helen snorted. “Lovebirds. Get a room, you two.”

The other man's smile broadened. Geoff noticed how it lifted his pale, angular face.

“I've known Geoff since way back.” Helen frowned in thought. “GCSE exam year, wasn't it?”

“Yeah, you parachuted in from wherever …”

“Shrewsbury.”

“That's right. And after a month, you knew more about everyone in our year than I'd garnered after four years.”

Helen's lip curled. “You calling me nosy?”

His wide-eyed look of innocence had all of them laughing.

“And …” She turned back to Wes. “I know Tony through him becoming Geoff's boyfriend. Believe me when I say he's been thoroughly vetted for the position.”

She gave a Tony a sideways glance which made Geoff smirk. Was it true? No, but Helen was very protective.

The new man looked at them. “You sound tight-knit.”

Helen blew out a breath. “Yes … but we all have different jobs, and other friends. These two have their own thing going on. We're all musicians though.”

“You sing?”

She snorted. “God, no. I can't hold a tune to save my life. I'm another hitter of things. Good for taking out the week's stresses.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Singing does that for you as well, you know. No need for physical violence.” He grinned. “Pity though. There's a 'Come and Sing' at the weekend with my choir. All-comers welcome.”

Geoff frowned. “I imagine you told me, but it doesn't ring a bell at all.”

“A couple of weeks ago? Creation. Not surprising, given everything.” Tony turned to Wes. “D'you sing?”

He shook his head. “I'm not musical at all. Don't even listen to it much. I'm more a podcast listener.”

Geoff was glad the spotlight moved swiftly away from him and Creation. Some singing sounded attractive, though he'd need to warm his voice up beforehand. He wouldn't mind finally meeting Ted Rushton, Tony's singing partner, either.

Helen decided to keep the attention on her visitor. “What brings you to these parts, Wes? I mean, I know you moved here from down South, but not whys and wherefores.”

Geoff focussed on the other man, taking in his branded sports casuals. He didn't look as though he did any sport seriously, but that wasn't unusual: many people wore that clothing without going anywhere near regular exercise.

Wes put his drink down. “I imagine it's a common enough story nowadays. I work as a manager for one of the main store groups. They closed the store I worked in and offered me a couple of alternatives. Neither were attractive 'cause it would've meant a long commute, so I hung on until this job came along.”

“Retail's having a grim time: you see enough of it on the news.” Tony gave Geoff's hand a squeeze. “Local government's undergoing restructuring as well. Geoff had to re-apply for his job a few months ago.”

“Yeah, but you've still got your gold-plated pension though.”

Geoff flushed – it was a common complaint. “Yes, we're fortunate, but we've had to take cuts to our scheme benefits, and pay more. We have to wait longer to claim. God knows what the age'll be by the time I get round to retiring. And job security's less than it used to be.”

“You're right there: I reckon we'll be dead before we're allowed to retire.”

This led to a vigorous discussion on the current social inequalities between people their age – and younger – and the growing multitudes who were retired.

After half an hour, Tony looked at the time. “Sorry, guys. We've got places to be.” He stood up. “Great to meet you, Wes; 'til the next time maybe.”

“Hope so.”

“Thanks, Helen. See you soon.”

Tony waited a moment for Geoff to catch up and say his own 'Goodbyes', before they took the stairs back to their car. Once settled in, Tony put the key in the ignition, then turned his head.

“Any thoughts?”

Geoff shrugged.

He started the car. “I wouldn't mind giving Wes another chance. I don't think either of us hit it off with him; these things can take time.”

“He was OK, but I don't think we've got anything much in common.”

“I'm pretty sure he's gay.”

“Oh, yeah?” Geoff looked at him.

“Come on – he smiled when I said you were taken …” Geoff turned pink. “Call it a gut feeling. Let's give him more time.”

“OK.” His boyfriend sounded unenthusiastic. Tony put that down to his shyness and comparative lack of social skills.

He turned the car to head home.

“I thought we were going to yours?”

“If you're going to sing Creation on Saturday, you're going to need as much warming up as we can fit in.”

Geoff sighed. “I think I'd prefer packing books to singing exercises. And I'm sure the neighbours would as well.”

“Rubbish. You'll enjoy it. Maybe not the neighbours …”

That earned him a punch on the arm. The accompanying giggle told him Geoff was fine.

“You'll thank me on Saturday.”

“Come on, sleepyhead.” Tony's voice invaded his doze. “Time for breakfast and your final warm-up. Haydn awaits.”

Geoff felt a kiss on his cheek and another on his neck where it made him quiver. He stirred and rolled onto his back, still clutching the duvet. “God, what time is it?”

“Eight.” Tony was already showered and dressed.

He groaned. “It's Saturday. Shouldn't be allowed.”

“I'll get breakfast ready. Scrambled eggs on toast. Porridge as well.” Tony moved to open the curtains, letting in the bright, early summer's day.

“OK, OK. I'm moving.” A long, busy week meant he had less enthusiasm than usual for getting up.

He sat on the edge of the bed, slowly coming-to. The mattress dipped behind him. Tony reached to embrace him from behind, caressing his bare chest and toying with the dark hair.

“You don't have to go. It'll be fine. I'll just tell Zoe you're a feeble coward.”

“What?”

“Didn't I say? Zo's coming.”

Geoff turned his head as much as he could. “Singing's a Marshall trait is it?”

“Possibly. Mum sang, certainly. Zo normally does rock vocals, but she can dial it down when she wants to.”

He chortled. “Somehow I can't see your sister turning up every week to learn … I dunno … Stainer's Crucifixion or the Fauré Requiem.”

“No. … I did warn Ted. He may've forgotten though.” Another kiss. “Come on, you. Get dressed. Breakfast will be waiting by the time you get downstairs.”

Geoff hauled himself off the bed and into the shower.

Later in the morning, he sat on a plastic chair – one of many – watching people mill around the school hall. It felt odd: normally he was on his own in splendid isolation, or one of a small group, spread out. At the front of the hall, Tony stood in the queue to collect their music. That week's warm-ups determined he was neither a tenor or a bass. His range was pretty limited, so the plan was to seat him where he could switch lines if he needed to. He hoped it wouldn't be necessary to sit away from Tony. It might only be a hack-through, but he still didn't want to make an idiot of himself.

One of the glass swing doors opened. Geoff smiled when he saw the unmistakable figure of Tony's sister striding into the hall. Her clashing colours and textures stood out amongst the usual weekend casual look of everyone else. Heads turned. Would she care? He thought not. Geoff raised a hand and waved at her. It took a few seconds for her to notice and then bound in his direction.

“Geoff! What you doin' here?”

“Your brother dragged me, kicking and screaming.”

“Like, you haven't dumped him yet?” Zoe grinned.

He rolled his eyes. She looked as fearsome as the last time they met, with her calf-length Doc Martens, and apparent piercings. Her only concession to the warmer weather was a skimpy top that exposed arms and shoulders covered in tattoos.

He blinked. “Those for real?” He wondered what Tony's reaction would be.

“What?” She followed his gaze. “Nah. Come Monday morning they'll have vanished. More's the pity.”

“Still working at the same place?”

“Yeah. Shithole. … Where is he anyway?”

“Getting our music.”

She looked round. “Bugger. Forgot 'bout that.” She got up. “See you later.”

By the time Tony came back, singers were filing into the tiered rows of seats, looking for their preferred spot. Most of them seemed at home.

“Any other interlopers apart from me?”

His boyfriend handed over a score of Creation. “Yeah. Some – not as many as the committee hoped for. Enough to run it though.” He sat down. “Ted's not here yet which is strange. I've picked up a score for him as well.” He put it on the seat next to him. “OK?”

“Yes. Looking forward to it now.”

“Good.”

The chatter around them stopped. They looked up to see the conductor take the podium.

She surveyed the choir. “Morning, ladies and gentlemen. Let's begin.”