Not just another Summer - 31. Jacob & a return to the Basket Makers Arms

And that was how, on Saturday morning, I ended up cleaning the inside of Vince’s car. Why was I not surprised that he had a neat portable vacuum cleaner, and cloth and spray-cleaner specifically for the car interior.

The car was band-box clean already, and smelt decent enough. Though I opened all the doors just in case. But I followed his (detailed) instructions and went over everything. Moggie decided that this was more interesting than chasing birds, and seemed determined to help. I was just finishing, giving the interior a last sniff to make sure there were no lingering odours, when I heard feet on the gravel.

Evidently, on Friday Vince had walked to work, so he hadn’t needed the car. But when I commented, he had just laughed it off and said that the exercise would do him good. Peter had suggested that Vince might start running to work to keep in shape, but there was no shower at the practice offices and Vince quailed at the idea of having a good wash in the staff toilet. My brother, of course, would never have considered working sweaty. Peter had suggested he shower at the Centre; evidently, they had decent facilities. But for Vince this was a step too far, advertising their relationship. They had kept relatively under the radar so far, but I wondered how long they could keep this up.

Vince had warned me that his new trainee was popping in for coffee. He had met the guy a couple of times during the week, but had said little about him. Vince made it clear to me that I was expected to join them for coffee. The young man wasn’t local, and Vince wanted to make him feel welcome. I was a bit intrigued, I must confess. There was nothing inherently interesting in Vince having a trainee, but it had all happened so fast. Vince had no sooner agreed to have one than there he was. Lance (one of the other partners) just happened to know a suitable candidate, the son of someone Lance had trained with. The guy had already had a placement but was let go, by mutual consent but with excellent references. Vince hadn’t said more; just that Jacob’s face had not fitted at the previous practice. I could just about see that happening, but surely that was what interviews were for, wasn’t it?

I looked out of the car. I was bent over, checking under the seats, so my first view was of a pair of long, long slim legs in fancy trainers and long baggy burgundy shorts. But I am embarrassed to say that what I noticed first was that the said legs were dark-skinned. Their owner was clearly black.

A slim, almost wedge-shaped face was topped by neat curly black hair, a huge sparkly earring, and a lively pair of eyes that were white against his skin but sparkling too.

“Can I help you?”

“Does Mr Vince Philpott live here? I’m looking for The Grange.”

“That’s right. This is it.”

A beaming smile. “Great! I’m Jacob Braithwaite. He’s expecting me.”

Determined to avoid a repeat of the Venetia moment, I extracted myself from the car and strode forward with my hand outstretched. “Nice to meet you. Gray Philpott, Vince’s brother.”

He recovered quickly, smiled and shook my hand. “It’s a huge place. Do you live here?”

“We share it, Vince and I, though it’s held in trust from Dad’s will.” Best get that out the way too.

“Awesome! I hadn’t realised when he gave me the address.”

“Most locals know The Grange. Our grandfather built it. The Philpotts were a very old established firm of builders, so he was showing off.”

He stood back, looking expectantly, and I brought myself back to the present.

“Come on. They are expecting you, and I gather Peter’s been baking.”

“Peter… is he another brother?”

Trust Vince to leave me in it. I had assumed that Vince had at least given Jacob some basic information about our menage, but not a bit it seems. “No, he’s Vince’s boyfriend. But Vince having a boyfriend at all is a bit new.”

“I see. Thanks.” But you could see that he was recalibrating everything.

---

We sat in the garden and Moggie graciously made an appearance. I was trying to work out how to let Vince know that I’d told Jacob about Peter being his boyfriend. It had seemed only fair that I tell Jacob, being as he’d asked directly who Peter was. But I did wonder whether Vince had naively thought they could get through the visit without Jacob twigging. Surely not. Vince couldn’t be that naïve. Luckily, Jacob’s approach to awkwardness was to firmly grasp the nettle.

When Peter handed him his coffee and cake, Jacob smiled. “This cake looks excellent, Gray said you were baking.”

“Thanks. It’s a form of relaxation.”

“I managed to make a boo-boo when I arrived, and didn’t realise you two were together. But luckily Gray put me right.”

Vince’s eyes widened. “Sorry, I should have said. But it’s all a bit new.” Then he stared at me, and I just shrugged disingenuously.

“No problems”. Jacob looked around the garden. “This is such a cool place. You were brought up here? Gray said it was your grandfather’s.”

“And Dad’s, yes. I lived here till I went to Uni, and Gray did the same.”

“But we’ve only been back properly since Dad died.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Don’t be”. Vince paused. “He had a good innings .”

“And our relationship was complicated.”

Vince glared at me. “Gray…” Then he turned to Jacob. “Sorry. Family problems.”

“He’s going to find out, Vince. A bit of research and he will come across the article.”

Jacob stared from one to another. “Article? Sorry, am I missing something?”

“I’m a poet, and a lot of my poetry is inspired by the local landscape. When I moved back home earlier this year, I did an interview with the local paper, the Mercury, about my poetry.”

Vince had got his mojo back. “Except the journalist wanted to talk about Gray’s fractious relationship with Dad instead.”

“It was in the Mercury nearly two months ago.”

Jacob laughed nervously. “Lance said that the Philpotts were complicated.”

“Just not that we were a soap opera.”

Peter shook his head. “Have you found somewhere to live?”

“I’m renting a couple of rooms at the moment. I thought that I’d get settled in before looking for somewhere more serious.”

I realised that was code for ‘till he made sure that things worked out with the practice’. Then he turned to me and smiled charmingly. “As we seem to be exchanging embarrassing moments, I should probably say that my previous appointment didn’t work out because the practice felt I was too flamboyant and that I should be more circumspect.”

I exploded. “That sucks!”

He shook his head. “Thing is, I was trying to be circumspect.”

Peter nodded. “Code for wanting you back in the closet?”

“More or less. I felt like saying, ‘Honey, you want flamboyant? You ain’t seen nothing yet!’”

“Are you still thinking of looking at more LGBT issues, Vince?”

He looked startled but nodded. “I think I am. It was already something to be considered. But now that Jacob’s on board, that changes things because he has done excellent work in the area already.” He smiled, all charm. “Though I have no idea how much take-up there’ll be.”

Peter gave a considered nod. “More than you’d think”. He looked at Jacob. “In case he’s not said”, he poked Vince playfully, “I work at the Horniman Centre, which supports those who have been homeless and other disadvantaged.”

Jacob looked over at Vince. “I think you said you do pro bono work at the Centre. So I’ll be working with Peter? ”

Vince nodded. “Sorry, it’s all a bit incestuous. Luckily, Gray here writes poetry and articles for magazines, so you won’t have to cope with him. Whilst my son Freddie, who is off with friends today, is still at school.”

I gave Vince a wry smile. “Unless Jacob likes poetry readings. I’m doing one next week.”

“Of your poetry?”

“Yes. It’s at the gift shop at the Castle. They have a small but interesting stock of local books, including mine.”

“Awesome. That sounds great. Thanks.”

By the time Jacob had left, he had made a firm friend in Moggie, agreed a time for Peter to show him around the Centre, and his parting words to me were about the poetry reading. Not bad going for a newbie.

---

“Well that was interesting.”

I shook my head at Vince. “What did you expect?”

“Quiet coffee, discreetly indicate Peter, and introduce you.”

I smiled. “I somehow don’t think Jacob does ‘discreet’.”

“You’d be surprised; in a suit and in professional mode, he’s all business . But I think he’ll go down well with some clients, more approachable.”

“And charming. What about him being black?”

“Come on, there are all sorts in Coningham.”

“What was the problem in his previous post? Can you say?”

Vince wrinkled his nose. “I think it was basic prejudice; gays are acceptable, providing they are not seen or heard. Lance thought one of the partners was very Christian. Don’t know how true that was, but it can’t have helped.”

---

Mid-afternoon, Matt phoned. He was just coming off his shift, his last session explaining things to his replacement. Was I still going to be with Freddie this evening?

I was. Vince and Peter were going out for a meal à deux. A new fish restaurant had opened up on the coast, supposedly more upmarket than many, and they were trying it out.

Matt suggested we might go to The Basket Maker’s Arms again; they had a good band on. I messaged Freddie, who was out with Arvid. The two would come back to The Grange, and then Arvid would go home as relatives were visiting (I could almost hear the groans). So Freddie would be delighted to go out.

---

“How’s Dad’s new sidekick?”

“You should have joined us.”

Freddie wrinkled his nose.

We were walking to the pub. It was a good walk, but Freddie was up for it. So we were filling in time conversing.

“I didn’t fancy having to be nice to some boring solicitor.”

“Oh, Jacob’s anything but boring. Outside the office, he’s quite a colourful character, charming too, and queer.”

“You mean he’s gay, like? Not that he’s odd.”

“As a coot. Took your dad and Peter in his stride. He’s even getting Peter to show him round the Centre. Oh, and Moggie loves him.”

“Cool. ” Freddie peered at me. “Did Dad know?”

“Yes, some. I think Jacob’s mother trained with Lance.”

“Lance is pretty cool, though Francis is a bit of a fuddy-duddy.”

“Well, Lance gave Jacob a second chance; his first traineeship didn’t work out.”

“That sucks. Because…?”

“I’m not passing on gossip. Ask your dad. Or Jacob.”

“You think he’ll be around much?”

“In the sense that he’s not shy and will probably drop in, yes. But would you want to socialise with your boss, even if your boss was open about being gay?”

“Nah. Suppose not.”

We were quiet for a bit. I wanted to ask about Arvid, but felt that was a bit too much the heavy uncle.

“Me and Arvid are coming to your show on Tuesday.”

“Show!” I exclaimed, then calmed a little. “I’ll be reading poems, not doing a dance.”

He sniggered. “Perhaps you ought to try that as well.”

“You’ve not seen me dancing.”

His eyes lit up. “We’ll have to try sometime.” Then he went quiet. “I wanted to go dancing with Arvid, but it’s a bit difficult.”

“Dancing with him is a bit too out there?”

“Yeah. It makes you the butt for all the wankers. Plus Arvid gets grief from his parents.”

“It’s tricky. You know what I’m going to say?”

“Patience.”

“I’m afraid so. How is he anyway?”

“OK. Dad’s been great, and we’ve been getting a bit of time together.”

“So I gather. He does check with me that I’m around.”

“Oh yea, now you’re responsible!”

“Think yourselves lucky that I’m not Kjell, appearing with a torch, checking what you’re doing under the covers.”

“Uncle Gray, that’s so gross!” Then he stopped. “You think he gets off on it?”

“Control, yes. I suspect he likes that. Whether he has weird fantasies, I have no idea. And frankly, I don’t think I want to know. Do you?”

Freddie laughed, but then was thoughtful. “You know about Peter being in prison and that.” It was a statement rather than a question, but Freddie did look a bit wide-eyed about it.

“I’d sort of worked it out. But they told me the other weekend. You OK with it?”

“Yeah, it’s cool, really. As Dad says, it was a long time ago and he’s straightened things out. He let me ask questions.”

“Peter? Nice of him.”

“Yeah. But it’s a bit weird too.”

“Asking your dad’s boyfriend about his time in prison?”

“Yeah. Thing is, do you think it’ll be a problem?”

“A problem? For Peter and your Dad?”

“Well, him being a solicitor and Peter being…”

“A former criminal. Well, I think you’ll find Peter isn’t the only former criminal at the Centre. That’s partly what it’s for. You’ve heard your dad going on about prison reform and how we treat people in prison.”

Freddie rolled his eyes. “Well, yeah.”

“This is all part of it. If there’s no support for prisoners when they come out of jail, then former criminals struggle to get back into regular life, fall through the cracks, and become homeless.”

“Oh, right. Yeah. Sorry. Should have thought.”

“Took me a bit of time to join the dots. So your father associating with former criminals…” I waggled my head. “Not surprising. All part and parcel of his political principles. But there are bound to be people who see things differently.”

“Who object to him working at the Centre?”

“That’s it. But also your father having a relationship with an ex-con, and a man to boot. There is going to be comment. People are going to feel entitled to have opinions, even when it’s none of their business. You had any grief about it?”

“About Dad and Peter? Not really, but…”

“You’ve not told your friends.”

“No… I…”

“It’s OK. I’ve been pragmatic too, at times. It makes sense to keep your head down.”

Arriving at the pub brought this interesting conversation to an end. But I made it clear to him that we could chat more at any time if he had concerns or questions.

Matt had already arrived and grabbed us a table. We’d not worked out things; Matt and I had been in our own bubble, and I didn’t want to spook him by kissing him in front of Freddie. So when he looked at me, I simply cocked an interrogatory eyebrow. Matt stiffened then shook himself and gave me a kiss, on the lips. It was only short, but he had a shy grin on his face, and I squeezed his hand. Freddie’s eyes went like saucers, but he recovered quickly. Matt strode away to get drinks and, perhaps, compose himself.

“Uncle Gray. Are you and Matt…?” Freddie’s voice drifted away, perhaps aware of what he was asking.

“Perhaps. We’re friends and maybe a bit more, but nothing definite. ‘Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies’.” I grinned at him.

“Thanks. He’s nice.”

“Thank you.”

The pub had had a bit of a last-minute remodel, presumably because of the weather. There was now a large plastic canopy across the open area next to the covered terrace so that everyone was out of the wet, and someone had strung up lights. The result was haphazard yet charmingly casual and engaging.

By the time Matt returned with the drinks, Freddie and I were chatting about more casual topics. So he and Freddie started discussing the merits of the menu… again; it hadn’t changed since last time.

Freddie seemed to have digested the news of my and Matt’s liaison with admirable aplomb, or perhaps he took it for granted that I would hook up with someone.

We all ended up having burgers, though Matt bought some spicy wings for us to share. When I picked one up and started gnawing away, his grin was priceless.

The live act was less to my taste this time. The band consisted of three guys, two on acoustic guitars and one on bass, all singing and all their own material. Perhaps I had tacky taste and preferred the previous guy’s covers. Still, Matt and Freddie enjoyed it, and our differing opinions made for a nicely lively evening.

Matt and I parted at the pub. He had a horribly early start because of a trip with other bird watchers, and I didn’t press him. In terms of having a regular relationship, we were certainly taking baby steps. But Freddie went off, ostensibly to sort us out a cab but as much to give us space. So Matt and I had a nice kiss and cuddle discreetly in a doorway. Again, very teenage!

A success all round. I hoped Vince and Peter were having fun.