No going back - 18. London Bound

The new house looked a treat. On Friday evening after I got back from the pub, I finally got to see it and ended up sitting on the floor in the new kitchen on the phone to Colin, in raptures. He laughed.

>You're going to need new kitchen units and stuff, we tried to make the old ones work, but it looks pretty crappy, nothing matches up or fits properly anymore.

"I noticed, that's not a problem.”

>I was looking, IKEA do some nice units and they have nice sturdy carcasses.

It was my turn to laugh, "You've been looking", I could almost hear him blush down the line.

>Well, I took on board what you said, plus Jimmie and I were talking about the kitchen, and he knew several people in our business who swear by them. IKEA, that is. So, It's worth a look. About tomorrow, I've got some bits and pieces I need to finish off in the morning.

"At the house?"

>Nah, paperwork and such. Quotes to get off to people, invoices to pay, stuff to file for the accountant. Then I'll collect the van and be at yours late morning. I'll keep you posted. It'll take a bit of time to get there, the van won't go at rocket speed.

"That's OK. Does it have a CD player?"

>Bound to.

"Then make sure you bring some loud CDs."

>Loud ones?

"Well, I imagine it's going to a noisy ride."

It was. But we had an eclectic mix of discs, from disco (me) and Country & Western (Colin) to various classical ones. And some, we even sang along too. There were lots of stretches of roadworks on the first leg of the journey, down to Wolverhampton, then of course there was the pain of circumnavigating the Birmingham conurbation. Colin was driving and I was following on my phone, which meant that a couple of times during the journey we made route adjustments. This was something he wasn't used to, he normally drove distances alone, and we seemed to work OK as a team. Finally, we got onto the M40, and things calmed down for bit (until we hit London, that is), so it was a chance to chat.

"How you doing?"

"Well, I'm looking forward to tonight."

"Good. But I didn't mean that, I meant your family and that?"

"I wrote Mum another email this morning, saying that I couldn't accept Miles' views, that my being gay wasn't a choice. That I didn't want to cut them out of my life, but that having constant arguments wasn't helpful. I hoped we could talk on a calmer basis later."

"And?"

"Nothing yet. She doesn't read her emails often. Besides, I bet she wants to chat to Miles before answering."

"What will you do if you remain at loggerheads?"

"Just keep plugging on. Even if Miles is a homophobic wanker, I can't believe Mum will be content to stay out of my life. There's you, for a start."

"Me?"

He laughed, "Yeah. She knows about you and I'm pretty sure she's dead curious. At least Miles has met you."

"Hardly in the best of circumstances."

"All the same, he's met you. She hasn't and she doesn't have a chance to quiz me about you. First time that I've done something, and she hasn't quizzed me about it." There was a pause, as we negotiated a stretch with heavy traffic. "I was thinking, you know you mentioned Norway?"

"Yes?"

"Well, I was sorting out the firm's diary for the next few weeks. The job at your place rather over-ran."

"Sorry."

"Ain't your fault. The house was in a bit more of a state than we thought, and the suppliers fair messed us around something rotten, stuff not made to spec and stuff arriving late. Still, we got there. We're a bit quiet for the next few weeks, and I could afford to take time off, I could even miss a rehearsal if necessary. So, I thought it might be fun."

"I'll check with work, what might be suitable, and see what prices are like for flights and that. I warn you, it's not cheap. Eating is evidently expensive, and drink is horrendous."

Colin laughed, "Then we'll have to live on take-aways, and be tea-total, or keep a stash in the hotel room."

"Keep a stash in the hotel room?"

Colin laughed, "I went on a trip when I was still training, and none of us could afford much. So we'd meet up in one of the guys’ rooms and have a few before going out. Much cheaper that way."

I laughed, "How undignified, but we may well need to. There is one thing."

"What?"

"Money. Please tell me if something is more than you can afford."

"It's OK, I've got stuff saved up. I don't spend a lot."

"I know, but I don't want you to pretend. Right?"

"Fair enough. I'll tell you. It's just, it feels a bit petty."

"I know, but it'll get worse when the money comes."

"Money?"

"From my Grandfather's will."

"But I thought that was just going to be..."

"Ten grand a year, remember."

"Fuck", and the van did a wobble, "Shit, sorry. It's difficult to get your head round that amount."

We got back on track, "Sorry. I've been trying to forget about it, until the money finally appears. And I've no idea what difference it will make."

"A hell of a lot."

"Mmm. Frankly, until my account gets an influx of money, then I won't believe it. And then..."

"I think I'd freak out and not spend anything."

"Yeah. And I don't want to wander around flashing money. So…"

"Keep things even."

"Shit, I never thought money would be so difficult. My salary's far lower now than it used to be, I've spent most of the last few years on illness benefit and now, what the hell."

"You could always give it away?"

"Fuck that. Father pretended that there wasn't any. We had to wait till he died and, fuck knows, I could have done with some, and Mhairi certainly could."

Colin giggled, "And now you've got it, it's a trouble too."

"I suppose I worry that I'll over-spend."

"And blow it, like 'Money, money, money'?"

"What?"

"You know, the TV play about that woman who won a fortune on the pools and blew it all."

"Sorry, my TV references are minimal. At home, we watched news and enlightening documentaries and that was it. When I was a student, we hardly watched TV and I was usually too busy working. Sad bastard, and no popular culture references"

"I'll have to educate you."

"Oh, Lord. Cooking lessons and binge-watching old TV programmes."

"Fun times. By the way, I have worked out what I'm wearing tonight."

"I can't wait, can I know?"

He grinned, "Nope. You have to wait, but it's not t-shirt and jeans."

"Oh boy, it's a kilt."

"A kilt!"

"Yes, you in a kilt. I can't wait."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I don't possess a kilt."

"Perhaps we'll have to remedy that."

"Pardon? I don't have a drop of Scottish blood."

"I used to have a mate whose standard party gear was a kilt and a vest."

"And his knickers?"

"Not at all, perfect party access."

"Bloody hell, what sort of parties did you go to?"

"Do you want to know? Seriously."

Colin thought, "Yeah, after all, it's not as if you're doing it now."

I grinned, "Except with you, tonight. OK. It's not too much really. I was rather keen on going to clubs, the sort where you might wander about wearing nothing but boots, meet a guy and have sex in the back. Or simply dance the night away. But some of the fancier guys…"

"Fancier?"

"Richer, from posh backgrounds, public school that sort of thing. They'd give private parties, in fabulous spaces where it was standard for people to get it on anywhere. So, if you were in a kilt..."

"Just bend over and there it is."

"Precisely."

"I doubt we'll ever go to parties like that."

I laughed, "You never know. So, not a kilt. I wonder…"

"You're wearing your jock-strap?"

"Yep, unless you feel it's too much?"

He smiled, "Or not enough. No, I can't wait. We have to change after our meal?"

"Yes, and I'll have to wear my trackie bottoms to get there."

"Trackie bottoms, you!"

"Believe it!"