They may not mean to, but they do - 16. Sixteen

The vicarage where Thomas’ brother and his wife lived was nowhere near the church but given the size of the village it was still within easy walking distance. Though the houses seemed to be of varying ages, including some that looked historic, the village felt practical rather than picturesque.

Situated on a lane running off the main street, the vicarage was tucked behind the village hall, so it looked onto the car park in one direction and open fields in another. It felt large and square to Keith as if someone had drawn a grid on some graph paper, but at least the windows seemed large. There was no garage, and the scrag ends of shrubs in the front garden were completely dominated by the open expanse of gravel, home to an ancient Ford Fiesta and an equally ancient Golf. Thomas pulled up the van beside them, with much cursing that Nate had still not got round to trimming a shrub that had vastly overgrown the gravelled area.

The door was off centre and led straight into a huge kitchen which filled the whole of that end of the house. Perhaps the biggest room in the house, this was where everything seemingly happened. As soon as the van pulled up, the door opened and Nate and Caroline stood at it, smiling.

Nate was tall, slim to almost gaunt, with what looked like a habitual stoop as if he spent his life bending to avoid low beams (perhaps he did). He had reddish-brown hair, which was more than thinning on top, what was left was rather wayward, and, perhaps inevitably, he wore a pair of glasses. Caroline by contrast was small and dark, almost bird-like with her dark hair in a sort of pudding-basin haircut which seemed more to indicate practicality than glamour. Both looked friendly but wary, as if nervous about what they were letting themselves in for.

Keith and Thomas were welcomed into a large modern kitchen. The rear window looked out onto a garden which, given the front, was surprisingly verdant, but then Keith was no gardener. Introductions were made and a cup of tea offered and welcomed. Then the door to the adjacent room, the sitting room, opened and a cat appeared. Black and rather aristocratic-looking, it sniffed around and made a beeline for Keith’s legs and started rubbing against them and yowling. Keith looked bemused, he was unsure whether this indicated pleasure or pain. Most cats in his youth had been working ones, aimed at keeping the rat and mouse population down, since then his encounters with them had been rare. He squatted down and attempted to be friendly, but after a few moments, the cat wandered away.

Caroline laughed, “Well, that’s the friendliest I've seen her with a stranger for ages, she obviously likes you.”

Nate was warier, “I trust you like cats, we tend to take them for granted and forget to warn people.”

Keith stood up, “I’m fine thanks, there were always cats around when I was a kid.”

“Oh, what types?”, it was Caroline who was keen on cats, Keith remembered.

“I’ve no idea, sorry”, he shrugged, “they were mostly mousers, designed to keep the population down.”

At least it broke the ice, over tea and home-made cake; not hers, Caroline hastened to add, a gift from a parishioner who took pity on Caroline’s lack of baking skills. “A woeful lack in a vicar’s wife”, she added with a smile on her face which seemed to imply just the contrary. It was a good cake, and Thomas smiled at Keith as he tucked in. Caroline noted Thomas’ relish, “You don’t often eat cake, Thomas.”

He grinned, “Keith has been corrupting me, he’s rather partial to cake.”

“Do you bake, Keith?”, Caroline’s thoughts were evidently still running on home-made cake.

Keith shook his head, and Thomas suppressed a laugh, “Not at all, I can barely cook. Now I’ve got my own place, I think I should learn. Gran was a great baker, but Dad didn’t think boys did things like that.”

So that inevitably led to Nate asking about Keith’s family. He hadn’t prepared a one-liner here. It was easy enough to be chatty about Gran, but his Dad? He looked at Thomas who gave him a sort of encouraging nod, so what the hell.

“Dad. Well. When I was a teen, he found out I liked boys. That way. His solution was to beat it out of me, so I pretended to him and to myself. He’s not someone I like to talk about much, we never really reconciled before he died, and it's only recently I managed to sort myself out with the help of friends.”

Nate started to ask something, and Keith realised that he seemed like an excellent listener, it felt as if he was really paying attention and Keith could easily have continued chatting. But Caroline stood up, saying that they should show Thomas and Keith to their room.

The sitting room was a homely, slightly shabby room with an extra sofa covered with rugs and cat hair, clearly the cats’ home. There was no dedicated dining room, all meals happened in the kitchen. At the opposite end of the house were two extra rooms, both offices; Caroline was an accountant who worked from home, so she had one and Nate the other, for parish business.

Upstairs there were three bedrooms and two bathrooms, so at least Keith thought they would not have the embarrassment of sharing a bathroom with Nate and Caroline.

Caroline opened the door to one room, “We’ve put you both in here, in Thomas’ room. My apologies for the twin beds. It's not a statement or anything, but past guests have told us that the mattress on the double bed in the guest room is well worn out, and sags horribly. So, we thought you’d be more comfortable here.”

“Besides which, I doubt you think of a vicarage as a nest of passion”, Nate it seemed had quite a dry sense of humour. Caroline let out an explosive ‘Nate’, but everyone smiled and to Keith’s surprise, Thomas hugged him.

Keith unpacked and chatted aimlessly. He was horribly aware that the walls might not be thick, that they would be overheard. The room was pleasantly neutral, with flowered curtains and a couple of landscape prints. Apart from some photographs on the chest of drawers, and his hairbrush and skin cream, plus a bedside book, it wasn’t very apparent that Thomas lived here. He had explained to Keith that his time abroad had left him with very little in the way of things, and there were still a couple of boxes in Nate’s attic which it wasn’t worth unpacking till he got his own place. But Keith thought all of his own stuff, even in his shared houses, and realised that Thomas could seriously live with little.

An orange cat wandered in, bigger and bulkier than the other. The dark one was Ally, the orange Pally, and Keith had been advised that they shared the house between them, with Pally living upstairs.

After unpacking, a quick wash and tidying himself up, Keith sat on the bed. Thomas looked up, “Ready?”, Keith nodded, and Thomas kissed him.

The house was quiet, so they sat in the kitchen and chatted about the possible problems of the Mounted Figure. Thomas had been wondering about the ethics of the replacement, or whether it was more valid to simply keep all the original works even if the figure did not move. This was something that Keith had barely thought about, he was trained to repair and replace. Nate appeared towards the end of the discussion, and once Thomas explained they were talking about the school’s Michael Atkinson figure, Nate grasped what the gist was and joined in with some thoughtful lines of argument. It made Keith think, and the three were in the midst of a fascinating discussion about the ethics of restoration, something which Keith had realised could be applied equally to some of the houses that he worked in, when Caroline appeared apologising for getting dragged down a hole by an email.

The plan was to go for a walk, and Nate took them briskly through the village pointing out the more historic buildings amidst the modern in-fill, and then out across the fields. They formed two pairs, Nate and Keith, Thomas and Caroline. Keith had had visions of being quizzed by Caroline, but a conversation with Nate was more relaxed. Any question Keith put to him, Nate would think about carefully, and similarly with any of Keith’s responses to his questions. A couple of questions about Nate’s work led to Keith’s admission of almost total churchlessness, bar going to carols with his Gran, and this led to his admission about visiting the church.

This required further explanation so that Nate could work out which service they had come to, and who they had been talking to. Nate clearly understood who Keith was referring to, and he seemed rather amused that Keith had already been exploring the territory. Nate was also at pains to emphasise that they did not have to come to the service in the morning, but Keith explained that he wanted to. He was curious and had enjoyed bits of the previous one. Nate warned him that it would be very different, it was a family service with lots of children and the language was more up to date.

By this time, they had made a big arc across the fields, the sun was getting lower and the views across the vale were glorious. They stopped, and Caroline commented that it was a shame that they did not have time to get to a certain spot. Nate then, apropos of nothing, told her of Keith’s previous visit. She was indeed curious and wanted his impressions which rather embarrassed him and made him awkwardly tongue-tied. After commenting, slightly pointedly, that Thomas had never told them about Keith’s previous visit, she looked at the two of them and asked how they had met, as Thomas had never said.

Thomas held back, so Keith blurted out, “At the strip night at a gay pub in Leeds.”

Caroline looked slightly startled at this, but Nate seemed unphased and perhaps slightly amused, “I see, are you a regular there?”

“I had started going at weekends, it was big enough and far enough from home to be a bit anonymous”, Nate nodded, “but the strip night was a first for me, and for Thomas, I think”.

“Yeah, I’d no idea what I was letting myself in for?”

“Did you enjoy it?”, Caroline’s bright question rather belied the salacious subject matter.

Keith shrugged, “Not really, it was all a bit anatomic.”

Nate nodded, adding “Yes, I prefer a little more mystery myself”, which led both his wife and his brother to look at him sideways. There would clearly be more discussion later.

Thomas continued, “We both decided we weren’t interested in the show and left early and went for a walk. It was the night before the conference”, both Caroline and Nate nodded, clearly, he did not have to explain which conference. “So, it was ten days before Keith and I could meet again, went for a walk up on Towarth Moor.”

As they walked back, Caroline returned to the subject of Keith’s visit, “Your friend’s Father did a confirmation here?”

“Greg’s Father, yes. He was an assistant bishop then, I think?”

“Bishop of Ilkley.”

“That sounds right. I hadn’t realised, but Greg just came out with it.” He went on to explain about Greg and Bart owning his flat and somehow managed to chat to Caroline on the journey back without ever feeling he’d landed himself in it.

Caroline was a highly organised cook so that when they entered the kitchen, they were greeted by tempting smells and a blast of warmth, a casserole in the oven on a timer. Dinner was surprisingly enjoyable and conversation, thankfully, more general. Somehow, the Michael Atkinson figure was a fascination to the couple, so Keith and Thomas found themselves explaining in greater detail. At various points in the evening, cats appeared and disappeared, and Keith would find himself with one or the other rubbing against legs and, he presumed, begging for food. This amused the other three, as it was Keith who seemed to get all the cats’ attention.

After coffee and a whisky in the sitting room (which caused Thomas’ eyebrows to raise, evidently that didn’t happen very often), Thomas excused them, and they went for a walk around the village, just the two of them. They didn’t go far, but the evening was mild, and the slow stroll was a chance to unwind.

“You OK, you’re doing fine.”

“I just feel a bit on show all the time.”

“Yeah. I can’t do much about that. Once the novelty wears off, things’ll be a bit more natural.” They were quiet for a bit, and Keith was very aware of Thomas’ hand round his waist. “You don’t have to go to the service tomorrow. I never usually do.”

“I think I’d like to, after the other one I’m a bit curious. Is that OK?”

Thomas nodded, “Just to warn you, there might be people for lunch tomorrow. There often are.”

“You mean friends of Nate and Caroline's?”

Thomas pursed his lips and moved his head from side to side, “Not usually. Sometimes parishioners, sometimes visitors, people in the business.”

“The business?”

“The religious business. It's funny, but for all the otherworldliness of it, the mumbo-jumbo or whatever, there’s a lot to what Nate does that’s common to charities like mine and bigger businesses.”

“You mean people to schmooze, committees to deal with?”

“That sort of thing. I usually avoid it, as lunch can be deadly dull with Nate discussing church politics with some local worthy over roast beef. It might be different this time, you never know who Nate or Caroline could dig up. Though if it’s one of her accountant friends, then heaven help us!” They both laughed.

Neither wore anything to sleep, but Keith made sure that his pull-on trousers were easily to hand, in case of emergencies, which made Thomas laugh as the idea of either Nate or Caroline bursting into the room seemed far too far-fetched. Thomas set an alarm as, though they would not have to get up at the crack of dawn, they would need to be up promptly to go to the church. As Thomas switched the light out, Keith heard the other bed creak and then suddenly Thomas was on top of his bed. Though Keith could not see him properly, he just knew that Thomas was grinning