Soul Music: Love Sustained - 7. Home and Away

On the following day, Geoff peered out at the weather from Tony's front room. High clouds still obscured any of the promised sunshine. He shrugged – that's what came of making plans to go out for the day. Just as he heard Tony's trainers squeaking behind him, his boyfriend lunged, grabbing hold of him round the waist. Even though he knew of his approach, Geoff couldn't help a nervous twitch. He looked round, one eyebrow raised.

Tony appeared disappointed. “You're no fun. I expected a loud yelp, if nothing else. I must be losing my touch.”

Geoff grinned. “Sorry. Your shoes gave you away.”

“Hah! Wretched things.” He glared at them. “I can't work out what's causing the noise. I keep hoping it'll go away eventually. Anyway, we still on for our picnic later?”

“Yeah. I fancy a trip, even though the weather's not wonderful.”

“It's dry. What more do you want?”

Geoff got his phone out. “The weather app says it's better going south. We going south?”

His boyfriend rubbed up against his behind. “This sort of south, you mean?”

Geoff snorted. “No. Not after yesterday. Helen nearly had an accident when I told her why we were late.”

“Hnh!” Tony kissed him before moving away slightly. “Yeah, we're heading south, and west, for that matter. 'bout forty miles – might make some difference.”

“Sunshine's not essential, but it would be nice.” He drew breath to continue, but let it out again without saying anything.

Tony cocked his head.

Geoff rolled his eyes in answer. “Don't mind me.”

“Hmm?”

“I was going to ask how you could visit one of your places incognito. Then I remembered Witley Court belongs to English Heritage, doesn't it?”

“Yep. I thought our first outing had better be elsewhere. I've never tried visiting one of my sites as a punter. Not sure how it would work. … Anyway, I'll get going on the food.”

Geoff felt obscurely pleased that none of Tony's previous relationships apparently involved picnicking. Normally, the day after a concert was a rest day. This time, they both agreed getting away for a short period would be good. Fresh air, open countryside, somewhere away from their very real problems. He shook himself and went off to find whatever they needed apart from the food and drink.

After coming off the motorway, they drove down the Worcestershire back lanes until they reached the fertile, green countryside surrounding their destination. The car park already had a large number of cars – unsurprising on a warm, dry Sunday. The sun now peeked through the clouds occasionally, helping to raise the temperature. Leaving their jackets behind, the two men stood beside the open car boot. Tony organised what they needed for the picnic.

Geoff looked around, noting the discreet visitor facilities, but nothing else. “Where's the house then?”

Tony handed him the bag containing the tableware and cutlery, while he picked up the two cool-bags with the food. “You mean, the stately home? Or what's left of it.”

“Oh …” He hadn't done any research before they set out. “So, what's there to see?”

Tony shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder why we bother with glossy websites, apps, and all that.”

He closed the boot and locked up. They picked up the bags and headed towards visitor reception.

“OK, Mr Know-it-all. Sell it to me.”

Tony suppressed the resulting giggles until he could speak. “OK … All these grounds lead up to the shell of what was a hugely impressive building.” He waved a hand in the general direction. “It burnt down in the 1930s, I think. The formal gardens are quite something as well. Hopefully, the rhododendrons will still be in flower – they have some colours I've never seen anywhere else. And last but not least, there's a fantastic, huge fountain which has been restored. That's a must see.”

“Wow.” Geoff stopped walking while he took it in. “That sounds great.”

Tony bumped him with one of the cool-bags. “Come on. Otherwise we'll never get to see any of it.”

They joined the short queue at the entrance, paid, and were given a map. They both managed not to smirk at the welcome spiel which mirrored most of what Tony said, almost word for word. They turned down an offer of an audio commentary. Geoff wanted to be free to look around without someone waffling in his ear, however informative it might be.

The first thing they came to outside was the grassy picnic area. At a glance, it appeared full. A number of families were grouped around the basic wooden tables, but a tilt of Tony's head showed one to the side which was unoccupied. They hurried over before someone else took possession. Tony methodically unpacked the food onto the wooden slats. Geoff's stomach rumbled as he surveyed the growing spread.

His boyfriend snorted. “I went easy on the pastry and fat after yesterday.”

“Hnh …” His whine didn't quite cover over his lingering guilt from the previous day's binge.

Tony clamped his lips together to stop a snort erupting. “Stop acting deprived. There's plenty of salad stuff and flavoured cous-cous to go with the chicken, and there's hard-boiled eggs. I've also got a couple of different salad dressings. No mayonnaise, though. That crusty bread smells good.”

“You're right, of course.” He sighed. “A picnic without sausage rolls or Scotch eggs just isn't the same.”

The two men sat down on either side of the table. They might miss the physical closeness, however being able to look each other in the eye – and maybe hold hands – would be compensation enough. Tony cracked open the bottle of cloudy lemonade. The sharp scent of the fruit lingered in his nostrils as he poured the liquid into their beakers.

He looked over to Geoff. “Help yourself. Can't have you sitting there, starving away.”

His companion stuck the tip of his tongue out before grabbing a paper plate. He stood up, hesitated, then worked his way from one end of the table to the other. The resulting mound of food made Tony's eyes widen, but he comforted himself in the knowledge it contained fewer calories and much less fat than what Geoff ate the day before.

After he filled his own plate, he grinned across the width of the table. “To take your mind off the paucity of the food …”

Geoff didn't take the bait – instead he continued to ply his knife and fork between his mouth and the plate.

Tony's amusement quickly turned to satisfaction – his food was going down quickly enough. “Anyway… I thought we could discuss holidays.”

That got his boyfriend's attention. “What holiday?”

“That's exactly what we need to talk about.”

Geoff continued to munch, his eyes asking the next question for him.

“We've both got a week booked off at the end of next month, haven't we?” That got a nod. “Well, I thought a week away would be good for a whole host of reasons.” Some good, some not.

Geoff swallowed. “Can we afford it?”

Tony knew he was thinking of their rental proposition. “Yeah, I think so. I'm not suggesting we go mad – more like a week in a cottage somewhere.”

“God, what a wonderful idea.” Geoff filled his fork again. “Can't remember the last time I had a holiday, as in actually going away.”

“Really?” Tony realised it was something they never discussed before.

“Yeah. Never saw the point for myself. My mother always has her two weeks in Eastbourne with a couple of her friends. She asked me along one year …” He grimaced.

“And you jumped at the prospect.” Tony's smirk was hidden by his sudden interest in the bread.

“What? Hardly. God, I'd sooner spend the time in a gym.”

“That bad? Anyway, back to our plans. I'm open to other suggestions. I used to take myself off to a warm, sunny beach for a couple of weeks, but the attraction's waned.”

“Oh?” Geoff's mouth was full again.

Tony reached out a hand to caress its opposite number. “Maybe I've less interest in ogling the eye-candy nowadays?”

Geoff's blush had its usual effect on his cock. Fortunately any visual giveaways were concealed by the table.

“I'd certainly ogle you on a beach if I had the chance.”

He felt a gush of affection. “Well, a beach setting could be provided … Otherwise, I'm right here. Stare away.” He struck a pose as if expecting instant adoration.

Geoff let out a short bark of laughter before returning to what remained of the salad stuff on his plate. A lack of attention soon allowed Tony to also get back to eating.

“So, where were you thinking of?” He took a gulp of his lemonade.

“How about going north?” Tony noted an unconvinced expression opposite. “Problem?”

“Midges. They love me like nothing else.”

Another piece of the jigsaw. They still had so much to learn about each other.

“Yeah, they're vicious little beasts, aren't they?”

Geoff nodded vigorously. “Their damn bites drive me mad. Whatever I do, it doesn't make any difference.”

“Fortunately, I'm pretty impervious. Don't worry – I'm not suggesting Scotland. I thought maybe Northumberland, or North Yorkshire.”

His boyfriend thought for a moment. “Isn't Northumberland close to Scotland? My geography sucks.”

With a chuckle, Tony got out his phone, called up Maps, and showed Geoff which parts of England were under discussion.

“I'm leaning towards Hadrian's Wall country. It's open countryside, and there's little standing water, so midges shouldn't be a problem. Of course, it'll depend on what accommodation's left. We'll have to decide on a budget. What d'you think?”

Geoff shrugged. “Don't think I've ever been to either. Family holidays were usually somewhere down South – some boring, sleepy seaside town. And it usually rained. … I'll take whatever you recommend.”

“Sure?” Tony closed the app.

“Yeah.” Geoff's face took on a suspicious look. “Just so long as you don't expect me to walk the whole of the Wall.”

“Oh, wow!” An evil grin appeared briefly. “You know, I hadn't considered that – all of the Wall. Hmm … could we do it in seven days?”

Geoff's eyebrows lowered. “You might. Not me, though. I'll thank you to keep it unconsidered.”

“Ooh … What's it worth?” He started gathering up the remnants of the food. Something in Geoff's expression made him stop. “You wouldn't! Not now you're addicted.”

Geoff smirked. “I'm not the only one. In fact, I'm only a recent addict. So, better not let it get that far then.”

They both giggled at the way the conversation went. Exchanging fond looks, they got busy with the clearing up.

Joy Lumsden stood in the middle of her lounge. She had a problem. Another call to Douglas that morning resulted in a brush-off like the previous evening's. The cheek of it! She pursed her lips. He had gone down in her estimation. Maybe Gloria's description was right. What did she say? 'A ladies' man', or something similar. Whichever way she looked at it, his unhelpfulness put her in a quandry. Her east-facing bungalow meant she still needed to have the lights on quite early, despite it being nearly June. She couldn't face another evening in the dingy light of the remaining four bulbs. She found it puzzling how only a couple of lights made so much difference.

She craned her neck at an angle to eye the offending spots. A chair from the kitchen didn't give her enough height – she knew that already. Joy frowned. Asking her neighbours to assist meant admitting the situation with Geoffrey. There were a set of stepladders in the garage, but she'd tried to pick them up before. She could hardly lift them off the ground, never mind get them from there into the house. Her son carried them around without any problem. She sighed. Joy promised herself she would ask next-door's son if she failed to find any other solution.

Meanwhile, she hadn't given up yet. Maybe standing the chair on something would give her the extra height? Scanning round the living room, her eye lit on the long, wooden coffee-table. It appeared quite solid. She bent over it, pressing the flat of her hand firmly on the surface. There wasn't any give. Removing a shoe, she placed her foot on the table, applying as much pressure as she could with her bent leg. It still felt firm. Carefully, she cleared everything off it before going to the kitchen for one of the wooden chairs.

Dragging the chair behind her, Joy then heaved it onto the coffee-table. The chair legs just fitted into the available space. The raised rim on the table would help to hold the chair in place. She pushed at it, testing the grip. It didn't move, but she wasn't wholly convinced. It would do. She wasn't about to ruin one of her rugs by using it to give a small amount of extra traction. Changing the bulbs would only take a minute or two, and she only needed to stand still while she did so.

Taking a firm grip on one of the replacement bulbs, she kicked both shoes off and climbed onto the table. So far, so good, though her stockinged feet lacked grip on the polished wooden surface. She gripped the back of the chair with her free hand and slowly levered herself up onto the seat. Cautiously, she straightened up. She felt almost suspended in mid-air. The ceiling was within reach, if only just. Her arm stretched upwards, and by standing on tip-toes, she scrabbled at the dead bulb until she managed to get it out of the holder. She compared it with the new specimen. Were they the same? Close. Would that be good enough?

Joy took the old bulb and tossed it onto the carpet, well away from where she was. She squinted up at the empty light socket – because it was recessed, she couldn't see precisely what was what. Giving a small shrug, she reached towards the ceiling. After several seconds, the task frustrated her. Whichever way she manipulated the end of the bulb, it still didn't want to fit. Growling in annoyance, she applied more pressure. The glass suddenly shattered; she gasped and snatched her hand away. Both the shards and the metal shaft fell to the floor.

Angry and impatient, Joy didn't think when she stepped down from the chair onto the coffee-table. Although both feet made it back to the table, she didn't stop long enough to regain her balance. In stepping off, one of her feet slipped on the polished wood and her knee twisted awkwardly. She heard a 'pop' as a sharp thrust of pain pierced her leg. She tumbled onto the carpet. A hand which sought a way of cushioning her fall, landed in the middle of the glass fragments. She screeched in pain and shock even as she turned slightly to avoid landing fully onto the shattered bulb.

Joy lay there for several minutes, dazed and in pain, before she tried to move. She needed help.

Pete Blanchard finished mowing his mother's grass at the front of her bungalow. He turned the engine off and stood, wiping his face. Neither garden, front or back, was large, but lugging the heavy mower around always got him up a sweat. His mum did pretty well looking after the rest of the garden, but the grass always defeated her. Particularly at that time of year when it seemed to grow one or two inches every week. He fancied a nice cold beer. First though, he had to fill the green waste-bags with the clippings for the council to take away.

That chore done, he heaved the bags onto the pavement outside his mum's house to wait for the following morning's collection. Turning round to go back inside, Pete thought he heard a faint cry for help. Puzzled, he listened hard, waiting for something else. While the bungalows weren't right next to each other, there were several within a likely range. Open windows added a further layer to the confusion. There it was again. This time, he narrowed it down to the bungalow next door. He knew the woman by sight but that was all. Quickly, he stuck his head round his mum's front door, told her what he thought might be happening, and hurried off to investigate.

Tony and Geoff strolled round the side of the massive, burnt-out shell of a building. Geoff tried to imagine what kind of social life its occupants had. Not those employed in the house, of course. He felt much closer in spirit to the domestic staff, estate workers, and such, than to the upper-class socialites they served. As they rounded the corner, his mouth opened. Sitting in a comparatively small body of water was the largest baroque fantasy of a fountain he'd ever seen.

Tony sniggered. “Impressed?”

“Bloody hell!” Geoff let his eyes take in as much detail as they could: the outer ring of shells and sea creatures surrounding the main tableau of the Greek hero, Perseus, mounted on a horse, defeating a huge, writhing sea serpent. “It's not working though. That's disappointing.”

His boyfriend gave him an indulgent eye-roll and waved the introductory map at him. “It's gonna be fired up in about half an hour. It takes about fifteen minutes for the thing to reach its full glory.”

“OK … so not your single plume of water then?”

“Far from it. I've seen it a couple of times and believe me, it doesn't pall with repeat showings. We'll need to get a good seat on the stone steps.

Geoff turned his attention to the blaze of rhododendrons on the bank behind the fountain – the plants appeared to frame the water feature. “The colours are amazing.”

The other man pointed to the left. “See that one? Tangerine, like I said.”

He stared, not quite believing such a colour ought to exist for a rhododendron. Then a bit further up, he saw a blotch of turquoise. “Wow. And every shade of red, pink, and purple as well.”

“It's some sort of national collection, I think. We can ask on the way out.”

Geoff sighed with pleasure. “I want a closer look at those shrubs.”

Lengthening their stride, the two men headed off up the bank. They were far from the only ones.

A few minutes later, they lounged on the long, shallow steps leading from the house down towards the fountain. Several other couples and families did the same, while others took the chance to take a snap of the fountain at rest. Geoff got his phone out and did the same. He kept it handy for further pictures.

While they waited, he thought of something Helen told him about. “Did I say Helen has a new neighbour? She thinks he's gay.”

“Hmm?” Tony looked round.

“I thought for one horrible moment she'd describe Stuart, but she didn't.”

“Thank god. It might be good to go and say 'hi'? There isn't exactly a thriving gay scene nearby.”

Even though Geoff knew it could be a good opportunity for them to make a new friend, his stomach clenched in anxiety. “Err … Yeah. Maybe.” He hunched in on himself.

“Everything OK?”

He was being inspected closely. Tony knew him too well.

Geoff had a go at articulating his feelings. They weren't anything to be proud of. “That sounds a good idea, but …” He ran his fingers through his hair. “But …”

“What, love?”

He saw Tony's concern and bafflement. Turning red, he swallowed hard. “I'd be scared of losing you.” There – he'd said it, and it sounded as pathetic as it did in his head.

“Really?” Tony's disbelief made him want to curl up in embarassment. His boyfriend moved closer. “If you said that at home, I'd take you to bed immediately and show you exactly what I thought of it. I love you. OK?”

He nodded, on the edge of tears. “I know. It's just …”

“You still can't believe it?”

He countered the other man's loving exasperation with a helpless shrug. Some days, he did; others, he didn't.

Tony frowned. “OK. This needs talking through – not now, but sometime soon. I get that your fear's real. Think of this though, love: we as a couple are real. We're tight. I love you, not someone else. Meanwhile, to meet this guy once, in passing, will be a good idea. For all we know, he could be a slimeball. Or he could turn out to be a good friend, for both of us. Even if he miraculously looks exactly like you, it won't matter.” He moved even closer. “Because I have the gorgeous, sexy original who can get my cock going in an instant.”

Geoff smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.” He was going to continue when his phone rang. Though he didn't recognise the number, he answered anyway. “Hello?” … “Yeah. Hi, Pete.” … “What?” … “Where are you?” … “Can you stay for the moment? We're some distance away.” … “OK. We'll be as quick as we can.”

“What's happened?”

“Mum's had an accident. A neighbour's taken her to the local Minor Injuries Unit.”

They exchanged looks. His next encounter with his mother was going to happen sooner than either of them expected. What might happen would be anyone's guess.