Not just another Summer - 29. It’s called real life

“Could I come and listen, even if I just sat in the garden?”

I looked at Matt with surprise. He had never struck me as someone wanting to listen to a scratch play through of Mozart’s Violin Sonatas. “It might not be very good. After all, I have never accompanied anyone before. There is the potential for crap, though I think Eva is more the sort to laugh problems off.”

He looked at me rather earnestly. “But it’d be you doing it, and I kind of like that.”

We were sat, having our usual breakfast at the Reserve. The weather was less kind, but it was still OK, just an extra layer needed. He put down his banana-and-peanut-butter sandwich and gently touched my hand. I smiled, enjoying the feel and thinking that his concern was rather touching.

“Fair enough. But you might have to hide in the garden.”

He laughed. “I can report on the effect of your playing on the local bird life.”

When we parted, we stood next to the moped as he sorted out helmet and hi-vis vest. He thanked me again, and before I knew what was happening, he kissed me. It was only short, his lips on mine were quite dry, but it was a definite move, I felt his body against mine. Then he gave a shy grin and dashed off.

I had all sorts of plans for the day, but I went back to the boardwalk and just sat. I worried what I had managed to get myself into. Matt wasn’t someone I could easily have a fling with and leave. The process meant far more to him; he invested more in it.

---

“What are you actually frightened of? Can you say what it is, or is it just general commitment phobia?”

My eyes widened at Vince’s comment. I hadn’t meant to talk to him about Matt, but he’d been late home and stuck his head around the door of the annexe to find out if I’d tried the Mozart yet and whether the binding worked. Carly had evidently been most concerned.

I had assured him the music worked a treat and that I had played it through. In fact, I had managed to wool gather for a substantial amount of time, playing Mozart rather than doing work, but it kept me off worrying. I had invited Vince in for a drink and ended up mentioning Matt because, well, I needed to talk to someone.

“I have never had a relationship where I couldn’t easily leave.” I paused. “I’m frightened of hurting Matt, I suppose, and worried that when push comes to shove, I may not find him physically attractive.”

“But you do have an emotional connection with him? He is more than a friend?”

I sighed. “Yes, more than a friend. It’s just…”

He gave a gentle laugh. “You’re used to thinking with your dick rather than starting with other organs of the body. So talk to him. It is what sensible people do.”

“Did you and Peter? Talk?” I smiled and cocked an eyebrow.

He gave an embarrassed laugh. “Eventually. I attacked him and we ended up rolling on the floor.”

“When Freddie saw you.”

“Yeah. We moved things upstairs and took a step back, talked first and thought with our dicks later. But we’re different. After all, Peter and I have been sparring with each other for a few years.”

“I think I’m scared of frightening him off and scared of hurting him.”

Vince stared at me. “What’s worse? Talking to him now and him getting upset, maybe? Or going on until you reach somewhere he’s more emotionally involved and you want out? Who’s going to be upset then?”

“Shit! When you put it like that, what a mess!”

“It’s called ‘life’, I’m afraid.”

“The interviewer on Wednesday asked me what I was trying to escape from with my poetry now.”

Vince blinked. “As opposed to Dad’s regime when you were a kid?”

“Yes. And I’m now wondering whether some of what I’m trying to escape from is real life. That my poetry is a substitute.”

“Come on, you can’t think like that. Be positive.”

“OK. I’ll have a word with him. Can I borrow your car on Friday?”

He laughed but agreed, then he went quiet. I thought he was about to leave, but there was clearly something else. “Thanks for taking the news about Peter in your stride.”

“’News’. You mean that he was in prison? I’m kicking myself that I didn’t twig earlier.”

“I should have said but…”

“I understand. We hardly had the closest relationship, and you didn’t know how I’d react.”

“But what I said just now about you and Matt…”

I grinned. “Could be applied to you and me discussing Peter.”

“Yeah. Putting it off doesn’t help. So, thanks.”

“And Freddie is cool, I gather?”

“My teenage son, cool as a cucumber! Just as long as he could ask questions.”

“Like any teenage boy.”

“Well, he’d have been perfectly right to freak a bit. One of his dad’s friends is a criminal.”

“What about the practice?”

“Thankfully, Lance and Francis do understand what we’re trying to do at the Centre.”

“See the work done, rather than the mistakes made.”

“Yeah. Doesn’t always work, there are failures. But I sure as hell won’t allow them to use those to beat guys like Peter.”

“Boyfriend or no. I was wondering...”

Vince gave me a ‘what the hell now?’ sort of look.

“Do you think Kjell and Bella are aware?”

“Of Peter’s history?” Vince shrugged. “Well, they must know that Peter’s a friend of mine, and maybe more. Peter’s past history isn’t exactly a secret, either.”

“Just something you don’t trumpet about.”

“And besides, Arvid knows. He and Freddie have talked about it. Peter let Freddie do twenty questions about what prison was like.”

“So I gathered.” I cocked an eyebrow at Vince.

“Arvid is bound to know. Surely…”

Peter shrugged. Well, nothing came out in any of the rants.”

Vince stared at me. “You think that’s going to be a rant to come?”

I shrugged. “We know so little about their cult, all that admirable stuff might include giving people the benefit of the doubt for past mistakes.”

“You reckon?”

“Frankly, no.“ I gave him a wry grin.

“Thanks a bunch!”

---

“You can’t be serious? This is the 21st century, for God’s sake!” Dawn was blazing.

“The boy’s parents are part of that sect, cult or whatever.”

“New World Simplicity?”

“Yes. And that seems to include a profoundly retrogressive view of human relationships.”

“Human relationships or gay ones?” Dawn looked at Vince intently.

“Not sure, honestly. Human, I’d say. No sex for anyone until over 18, and then you can choose. Can’t quite say about Kjell and Bella’s relationship; you get the feeling that he dominates her.”

“Or tries to?”

“Precisely. But there’s a sense that she’s the one who keeps his temper in order. But clearly neither seemed to have the foggiest about how teenage boys think.”

“Bunking off to do it behind the sports block or something?”

Vince looked resigned. “Something like that.” He moved his head from side to side. “Thing is…”

“What?”

“Well, on Wednesday, Gray pointed out my lack too.”

“What lack? What have you missed?”

“He had this fantasy of the boys using their time to the max, belting upstairs and bonking for two hours. Which led him to wonder what they’d get up to.”

“Ah, the vexed logistics. Putting things in there…” She gave an amused smile. “…and the damage it can cause.”

“And the need for condoms.”

Dawn’s laugh cascaded around the restaurant. “On an industrial scale!”

“Probably. Peter heroically did the deed. Took Freddie a supply of condoms and managed to get the lad talking about what doing it up the bum actually entailed.”

Dawn blinked. “Do I want to know?”

Vince shrugged. “Some straight couples go for it. Not sure why. Not sure what the women get out of it.”

“Come on Vince. No babies, keep your man happy, and probably tighter too, even if it doesn’t really hit any female G spots.”

“Fuck. Are we really talking about the benefits of anal sex amongst heterosexual couples?”

Dawn shook her head. “That’s what comes of knowing a Philpott. Anyway, unless you want to talk about the latest council budget cuts or hear how Arnold and I got on walking on the Suffolk coastal path, you are going to have to come up with something.”

“Well, Gray and Peter had a long talk about Peter’s background.”

Dawn gave Vince a wry smile. “’Background’ as in being in prison.”

“Yeah. Seems Gray hadn’t quite put the pieces together till we were discussing Peter’s wayward youth at the weekend.”

“And?”

“Remarkably calm. He seems to worry more about offending Peter with off-colour remarks about me fraternising with the criminal element than anything else.”

Dawn laughed. “Gray making off-colour remarks. What a surprise. But you’re an idiot.”

“I know. For putting it off.”

“We’ve had this discussion before. So, count yourself lucky that Gray is so sanguine.”

“Well, he’s happy as a sandboy because he has a piano again. I hadn’t realised quite how important it is to him. And he is practising the piano so he can try Mozart’s Violin Sonatas with a friend.”

Dawn stared. “He has friends, locally?”

“He’s starting to make them, thank God! The violinist is the wife of the bloke that runs the Castle Gift Shop. Somehow, they got talking pianos and stuff, and Bob’s your uncle. He dashes in before I go to work, he’s got a PDF of Mozart’s Violin Sonatas to be printed. Carly did a great job of them, too.”

“Mozart’s Violin Sonatas? Not quite your thing.”

“Well, that’s not quite true. I am curious. I will give them a listen, at least.”

“So do you get a concert?”

“It’s only a play through. I think we can lurk next door or something. But he’s warned me that he’s never accompanied anyone before.”

“You know, I did wonder what would happen.”

“When?”

“Gray and you moved into that house. It was a bit of an experiment. I couldn’t quite see either a permafrost or a hurricane developing, but I half imagined a sort of icy politeness leading eventually to a mutual decision to give up.”

“Instead…?” Vince smiled.

“You seem good for each other. Rubbing each other’s corners off, but not rubbing the wrong way, if you get my meaning.”

“We had a moment the other day.”

“What?”

“I’d found an old photo of Gray from when he was around 16, and we were talking photo displays.”

“In The Grange?”

“Yes. A big family one. Freddie and I picked photos we liked, and Gray dug out a few of his photos as well, candid ones. And there were three rather ordinary family photos from his 20s. And he admitted he’d wiped the occasions from his memory.”

“So you’d get together, and then both go back to your respective positions?”

“Well, usually, Dad would have a go at me about something.”

Dawn’s smile was sympathetic. “Highlight your inadequacies or failure to follow his demands.”

Vince looked rueful. “That’s about it. And there was never an occasion with all of us. There’s no nice photo of a casual family occasion with Dad and me and Gray. I have photos of Dad with Moira, Freddie and me, plus a few of the two of us. Whilst Gray has just a couple that he wants to remember, one of him, me and Freddie, and the other of him and Dad at some sort of arts do in Coningham.”

“You know, that’s really sad. Over ten years and so few real memories.”

“The other strange thing is that apart from photos when Dad was a kid, with Grandad and that, there’s nothing of Aunt Marjorie.”

“Your Dad’s sister. She died when?”

“Twenty years ago, maybe. But she was a lot older than him.”

“Surely Christmas cards, pictures of family and such?”

“Nothing.”

“Have you been in contact with her family?”

“I don’t have their details. Not a thing.”

“That’s really sad. You ought to follow it up.”

“I know. I’ll speak to Gray at some point, but it was he who mentioned her. Maybe employ someone to do some digging.”

“Databases, sweetie. I am sure you’ve got access to interesting ones at work. Or know people who have.”

Vince shook his head. “Families, eh?”