Not just another Summer - 35. Jacob & the naked tea

Saturday morning there was a nice email waiting for me from Matt saying how much he’d enjoyed the evening ‘IN EVERY WAY’ (his caps). So we knew what that meant. I said ‘my pleasure', and had he any requests for next time, and he got rather coy. But I thought something might be cooking, and we had a silly back and forth. Then he came up with a belter.

Next Friday there was a band at the Old White Horse. Worth seeing. His mum had suggested I come to their house for a meal, then Matt and I would go on. She’d informed Matt that it was time he returned my hospitality. Would I like to come? If we had the band to go to, Matt figured that would limit the time I had to put up with his mum’s questions.

At least the man was candid.

Frankly, the idea filled me with complete panic. But I said ‘yes’.

I’d never done the parents thing. Partly because few of my relationships got that far. But also because I had no wish to take anyone to see Dad, and so never had the expectation of seeing someone else’s family. With Norbert, the subject never came up. Which, given the length of time that we were seeing each other (over a year), told you a great deal, really.

I’d have to speak to Vince this afternoon.

He’d left his car, so I drove into town and bought supplies from Treasures. One of the older women behind the counter asked if I’d seen Matt, and I explained we’d been listening to his new records last night, so today he was doing his course work. It seems my association with him was taken for granted.

Which was nice, but only served to enhance my existential panic about meeting his mum. Then I became boring and practical, and drove to Lidl and stocked up, because I could. You know, the annoying person in the supermarket who spends ages going through every item, checking the sell-by dates? That was me.

This place was getting to me in all sorts of ways. When I’d left home for Uni, I hadn’t imagined ever returning except to visit. When Dad became ill, I had wondered how my relationship with Vince might survive; without the need to visit Dad, I worried I would fall out of the habit. I had decided that, funeral games over, I would try to do something. I just hadn’t known what.

But that idea had been focused on simply staying in touch and doing family events. Instead, here I was back to square one, except everything was different. I was different (I hoped), and things were happening. Unexpected things. I was a lot more relaxed and comfortable than I had ever anticipated.

---

When I heard the front door, I was just putting finishing touches to the food. I was already without clothes; I got a stupidly teenage kick from wandering around the main house in the nude.

I went to the lobby and had a sudden panic; what if Freddie was back early? But Vince and Peter were just standing there grinning. Both were in t-shirts and shorts, something you don’t often catch Vince in.

“Someone’s started already, I see.” Vince nodded to my naked bits.

“Well, I like being like this”. I grinned back. “And it felt great to be wandering around Dad’s house like this.”

Peter nodded. “Transgressive.”

Vince shook his head. “Are we having tea? Or simply going to stand here talking about Gray’s willy?”

We all laughed.

In the hall, Peter slipped his clothes off. Vince was slower.

“In case you’re wondering, the t-shirt and shorts are Peter’s. I was told I was too formally dressed for someone who was going to get naked.”

Peter smiled and shook his head. “I only said…”

We went out into the garden. It was still warm enough, and this part of garden was nicely sheltered.

“Wow, you have been busy.”

“All courtesy of Treasures, I’m afraid.”

“Perks of knowing Matt?”

“Not really. He wasn’t working today; he’s doing his course work.”

“Being a good boy.”

“It means a lot to him, the course. And financially it’s a strain, so he’s determined to make the most of it.”

Vince shook his head. “Sorry. Yes, I get that.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “And how was last night?”

“Fab. I took your advice. The food went down well. And he brought his new vinyl.”

Vince raised an eyebrow. “And how was that?”

“Jethro Tull and other trips into the past.”

“Nice.”

“It was. We had fun. And yes, that too.

“Good.”

Peter looked serious, though. “How’s he dealing with it, having a relationship, being out?”

“He’s still pretty low key. But it’s more him getting used to the idea.”

Vince turned to me. “And you?”

“Am finding the slow pace rather appealing.” I shook my head. “I was thinking earlier, I seem to be changing.”

Vince gave a wry smile. “You and me both.”

“And how was last night?”

They looked at each other and went shades of red. Vince gave an embarrassed cough. “We sort of made up on the phone and yesterday…”

I laughed. “Was the make-up sex.”

“More or less.”

“Well, Matt mentioned something this morning that’s put me in a bit of a state.”

“You’ve seen him.”

“No, email. There’s a band on at the Old White Horse on Friday, and he suggested we go and see it.”

Vince blinked at me. “Is that a problem?”

“His mum suggested I go round there for a meal first, and Matt thought it a good idea as it reduces the amount of time she gets to quiz me.”

Vince guffawed whilst Peter smiled. “Like that, is it?”

I shook my head. “Before the poetry reading, she was pretty explicit in her encouragement.”

“I don’t know, Gray. It’s got to be done.”

“Well, I’ve never done it.”

“Never met your partner’s parents?” Vince was puzzled.

“No. I’ve told you, most of mine were short-term or not serious.”

“But the German guy in Norwich?”

“I’ve learned that he had a very clear plan from day one. I was just the entertainment.”

“Not serious?”

“Somewhere to perch whilst he was in Norwich. So, no, I’ve never done the parents thing.”

“And will you?”

“Go for dinner? Of course. Matt would be upset if I didn’t. And I don’t have a valid excuse, do I?”

Peter exchanged glances with Vince. “And what about you?”

Vince seemed surprised. Perhaps they’d never talked this sort of stuff, which meant, what the hell did they talk about?

“Moira’s parents?” Vince frowned. “Well, they flew in from Florida, checked me out over dinner, gave me the 20 questions.” He shrugged. “That was it. I was a Philpott after all, so my face fitted.”

Peter shook his head. “Nothing more?”

“Frankly, I don’t think they cared that much. Once Moira was at Uni, they lost interest, concentrated on having their own fun. She was an adult.”

“They live in Florida full time. But I thought they were English.”

“Moira’s father had dual nationality. He was born in the USA, though he’d lived here since he was a kid. But he did some of his college studies over there.”

Peter wrinkled his brow. “Are they still around?”

“Oh, yes. Just not very interested. Freddie receives regular cheques for birthday and Christmas, and he sends them dutiful letters.” Vince gave a dry laugh. “I get a card. That’s about it. Can’t remember the last time we saw them.”

Peter shook his head. “You know, that’s really sad.”

“Perhaps you should go over and look them up.”

Vince looked offended. “In their Trump-worshipping exclusive retirement community in Florida? I don’t think so. ”

“So Moira’s parents are well off?”

“He made a fortune out there, mainly after we were married. I think Moira never saw much of it and, frankly, didn’t expect to.”

At some point Vince had brought one of his portable speakers outside, so we had music playing. The advantage of a hi-tech system controlled from your phone, it seemed. At first it was eminently forgettable classical easy listening, but then I recognised the music and smiled.

“Mozart’s Violin Sonatas.”

“Got it”. Vince smiled. “I’ve sort of got to like them. When are you and Eva getting together?”

I sighed. “There’s been a bit of back and forth, what with Eva’s school commitments and their family things. Probably a week Sunday afternoon. Are you two around?”

They looked at each other, then Peter said carefully, “We can be.”

Vince looked dubious. “Would you want us there?”

I shrugged. “You could always sit in another room and let it waft across.”

“A listening party.”

Vince nodded. “I’d like to hear them live.”

“Even if we’re crap.”

“Don’t do yourself down.”

Then Peter revealed a surprisingly skittish side when he leaned over to Vince and said, “More tea, vicar?”

The two laughed, and it was clearly a standing joke between them of some sort. The thought of vicars and teas brought a well-known poetic tag into my head.

“Stands the Church clock at ten to three?

And is there honey still for tea?”

The two turned to me, and rather amusingly Peter was frozen with the teapot midair. “What was that?”

“Well, I recognise it.”

“Rupert Brooke. Highly inappropriate, really. The Old Vicarage, Grantchester. But it’s really about remembering the past whilst he is in the trenches.”

“Shit.”

“Sorry, bit of a downer.” I grinned. “But if you give me a moment, I’m sure I can come up with a more suitable quote. Perhaps the Mad-Hatter’s tea party from Alice?”

Vince stared at me. “You can quote that from memory?”

“More or less. There are all sorts buried away there.”

Then at that moment we heard it; the distinct click of the side gate that somehow rose above the background of the music. Between the garage and the side wall of the property was a gate providing access from front to back without having to go through the house. We never used it, though I gather that Hortensia sometimes did for dirty tasks.

Vince and I looked at each other in alarm. He shrugged. “I can’t remember when I last used the gate. Gray?”

“I don’t think I have since I was 17 and trying to avoid Dad. More recently, I’ve only ever been through the garage and utility room.”

The other two laughed. Then we all turned as footsteps came across the lawn. We’d just about forgotten we were naked. It was Jacob in a baggy t-shirt and loose shorts. Casual but stylish, as ever.

“Hi, Vince. I did ring the bell, but then I figured you might be in the…”

He came to an abrupt stop and stared, suddenly aware that his boss, his boss’ boyfriend, and his boss’ brother were all naked.

“Sorry Vince, erm, Mr Philpott. You said I could just call in. But if it’s inconvenient … if you’re…”

He came to a halt again, perhaps aware of what he was suggesting. I imagine nothing in college prepared you for bursting in on your boss about to have a gay orgy! Peter exploded with laughter, and Vince looked at him, shook his head and smiled.

“I’m sorry, Jacob. There’s no problem. We were just having tea.”

Peter’s smile was definitely on the naughty side. “Naked tea.”

“Blame my brother. He tends to avoid clothes when he’s at home. And, well, it’s rubbed off.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Tell the truth, Vince. You were completely uptight about it, and I dared you to.” Peter looked at Jacob. “And we’ve been doing it odd times ever since.” He then gave a mock shiver. “Last time outside.”

Vince stood up intending to move things on, but in fact giving Jacob an excellent view of his boss’ dick. “The cake’s excellent, so we’ll get some clothes. Do join us.”

Jacob smiled, relaxing just a little. He ventured forward a step. “Thanks.”

Some devilment got hold of me. “That is, unless you’d like to join us like this, Jacob? It’s not to everyone’s taste, but if you are comfortable…” I smiled. “After all, now that you’ve seen everything there’s no more shock.”

Jacob’s eyes widened, then he giggled. “That would be so awesome. Hanging naked with the boss. My last one was the sort who only ever got naked in the shower...” Then he looked suddenly fierce. “If that.”

Vince looked nonplussed, but went to fetch another chair. “Novel, I have to confess. But it is certainly a way to break the ice. As long as you can cope, Jacob.”

Jacob grinned and said in the midst of stripping, “You bet. I’m good.”

“Oh, and beware the cat.”

Jacob stood up, now naked. “I bet.”

He was very, very slim, but lithe and nicely put together. Decently well-endowed, with a fuzz of hair both on his chest and lower down. Not my really type, but attractive.

He hesitated for a moment. “Sorry if this seems crass. It is just tea and cake, isn’t it? That’s not some weird suburban code?”

Peter burst into laughter. “I assure you, just tea and very good cake. No weird code. We don’t swing. Ever.” He gave Vince a fond look.

I shook my head. “As for me, only at the right sort of parties, and that rarely. So tuck in.”

Unsurprisingly, conversation was stilted at first. A lot about where the cakes had come from, where Jacob was living and where he might live. He reiterated his enjoyment of the poetry reading and said that he’d got both my books. He talked of finding out about some of the places I mention in the poems, and Peter pointed out that I was giving another couple of talks at the Centre, so he might be able to find out more. Jacob even insisted on noting down both dates on his phone. Vince caught my eye at that point. Clearly he’d had the same thought as I, that this was going well beyond simply being nice to the boss’ brother. I might have a convert.

Then Vince remembered New World Simplicity and asked Jacob what he knew about them.

Jacob looked startled. “If you don’t mind my asking, how do you know them?”

Vince gave a thoughtful sigh. I imagined he was trying to work out how to explain without bringing Arvid directly into it. “A friend of my son, Freddie.”

Peter cocked an eye. “Ahem, close friend. They’ve moved on from just experimenting, it seems.” Vince seemed a bit put out, but kept quiet.

Jacob’s eyes opened wide. “Wow. He likes boys, too?”

Vince gave an ironic nod. “Yes. And they’ve been discreet. But the boy’s parents twigged. As far as they are concerned, Freddie has corrupted the boy. And the parents are keen followers of New World Simplicity, going to the monthly meeting, though the boy has stopped joining his parents.”

“As far as the boy’s parents are concerned, he doesn’t get to have a relationship till he’s 18 and old enough.”

Jacob nodded. “That’s real fierce. I’d heard that they could come on strong about sex.”

“How do you know of them?”

“Kids I knew at home. Their parents were supporters. It’s not religious, and a lot of the ideas make sense.”

“Care for the environment and reducing waste.”

“Keeping things simple, not consuming for the sake of it. But they’re all a bit Evangelical about it and there’s a lot of”, he paused, sucking his lip, “not quite politics but, well, evangelising.”

“Like a religion?”

“Kind of”. He looked thoughtful. “They preach at you about the stuff you should be doing, and write lots of letters. It’s all part of being active.”

“Active?”

“Proselytising, preaching like, but also writing letters to the local council and politicians. Spreading the word, harassing people in power who don’t believe, that kind of thing.”

Vince looked surprised. “All very worthy. But that’s quite a lot.”

“Mmmhmm. It’s quite an outfit. Didn’t go down well at home, though.”

“Why not?”

“Well, most folk who go to church don’t approve of those who don’t. And you know it’s a bit like that.”

“A cult.”

Jacob frowned. “Sort of. Sense at its core. But you follow the rules. Their rules.”

“Including sex.”

“Seems. It didn’t register much at home. Church was pretty hot on that too.” He grinned.

“How did you get on? If it’s not rude.”

Jacob gave a dry laugh. “Badly. I was lucky in a way. Uni and work meant Mum’s less regular at church, just special occasions. It’s mainly Gran and the Aunties. And Dad. Well, he and the pastor don’t really get on. So we were a bit…”, he shrugged, “semi-detached. But no-one was gay. There were gay blokes at school, of course. But they were all flakes, if you get me.”

“You wanted to work.”

“Yeah. Kept me head down. But I’d be tempted. And, well, it came out. Church was something fierce, but Mum and Dad wouldn’t have any of that.”

Peter nodded knowingly. “Strong prayer and all that?”

“And more. Dad was firm and Mum agreed with him. They didn’t really approve of me liking boys, but they sure as hell weren’t going to let the pastor or the elders loose on me with all their hell fire. Mum and Dad were cool, eventually.” He gave a wry grin. “But my last year at school was…” he pulled a face, “tricky.”

“Uni must have been a relief.”

A broad grin. “Amazing. And I realised I wanted to help make a difference.”

Jacob and I started sharing ‘being gay at Uni’ stories, swapping our different experiences of coming to terms with being gay and coming out in that sort of atmosphere. Mind you, it sounded as if the law department at Jacob’s Uni was rather different to the free atmosphere in my English department. Which brought us back to poetry. I could tell he had questions, but this wasn’t the time. I managed to have a quiet word as we moved indoors when it got cold, and said I would be happy to chat about my poetry more but somewhere quieter. He’d grinned and said, “Cool”.

We were just winding up when Peter asked Jacob if he liked kids.

Jacob gave a wide grin. “Well, honey, it depends how they’re cooked.” Yes, the boy had definitely got his bounce back.

Peter smiled. “We’ve got a friend coming round for coffee tomorrow late morning, and she’s bringing her two boys. They’re quite lively and run around the garden.”

“I think Jacob’s done enough; he doesn’t need to start adding baby-sitter.”

“It’s cool. I often get involved in the games at home; I’ve young nephews and plenty of cousins. How old are they?”

Vince and Peter exchanged glances, then Peter shrugged. “Around 10, I think.”

“As long as they like being thrown into the air”, Jacob gave a wicked grin, “I’m on.”

Vince smiled. “Thanks. That would be a great help.”

“There’s just one thing. It is with clothes, right?”

We all laughed at the idea of that one.