They may not mean to, but they do - 32. Thirty-Two

In the end, they had decided to meet Stan and his friend Jan at the White Horse, it was central, and it was a known quantity. Keith had suggested to Thomas that they ought to go into Leeds earlier and try to do something on their as yet non-existent list of things they wanted to do. A little research had thrown up Evensong at Leeds Minster. Parking was something of a challenge, and they ended up with a walk through all the areas of regeneration, canal-side buildings that had used to be warehouses and were now hotels, offices, and apartments, some modern and some restored old buildings. Keith had no memory of exploring the area before, and they wondered what it had been like 50 years ago.

The church was a surprise, as big as a cathedral and just as imposing with a huge tower in the middle. Thomas had been reading about it in Pevsner and was able to talk about it being built in the early 19th century; Keith had thought it older. They were greeted by an old lady who handed them two books and a leaflet and said for them to sit anywhere except the choir area. It wasn’t busy, so they had what seemed to Keith to be rather grand seats. Lots of dark, carved woodwork and impressive arches, mosaics round the altar, stained glass and some tantalising monuments that were not really visible without getting up and having a wander. Keith was too busy looking round to pay attention to the service books, and when the organ started and the choir processed in, Thomas had to shove a service book at him with a smile, a finger pointing out where they would start.

The choir was quite a big one and had women in it, Keith had expected boys, but he had more of an idea what to expect from the service now, though the music was all completely different. Again, he didn’t really manage to understand much but enjoyed the sound it made as it spread around the church. The service made a bit more sense this time, though Keith had little interest in the religious bits but then neither did Thomas. He wondered how many people were here for the music and the event because it was an event, rather than the service.

Service over, there was a chance to wander around the church, to look at the fantastic if over-elaborate carved woodwork as well as looking at memorials to the great and good of Leeds. Afterwards, they had an itinerary, taking in the Victorian market, closing down for the day but impressive as a building though a bit over the top for Keith’s taste, and the extraordinary Corn Exchange with its oval roof. They decided they rather liked the space and found somewhere inside to sit and have coffee and admire it. A further walk, and more places from Pevsner, led them to an Italian restaurant in one of the modern developments near the river. Italian seemed good, and it was a space to chill out before meeting Stan and Jan.

Thomas admitted to being uncertain as to what the evening would involve, nervous even. His life so far had not involved a lot of night-clubs and bars. For Keith, night-clubs brought memories of a mix of fun and fights with Maria, and he wondered if a gay one would be much different. Keith wondered about them simply not turning up, but Thomas was firm that they had to show. So, eventually they made their way to the White Horse. It was too early for the real crowds and Stan spotted them easily, waving frantically and smiling. Introductions were made, and Stan explained that his friend Jan was running late.

There were drinks to be bought, and Stan was frank in his curiosity about Thomas and what he did. By implication, he seemed curious about Keith and Thomas’ relationship, without out quite going far in his questions. Stan’s constant flow of information and anecdote banished any concerns over not having enough to talk about. He knew all sorts of folk, both gay and those met through the Deli and grinning he admitted that some overlapped. Alarmingly frank about his sexual exploits, Keith suspected if they’d shown more interest, he would have been even more explicit. As Keith had quite rightly suspected, he used the shop as a means of sussing out likely men.

Jan finally appeared, rather apologetic and proved to be a tall, rather elegant guy, also of Polish extraction. At times the two lapsed into Polish to each other, but Stan would then pull them up short and apologise with a cheeky grin. But before they could settle, Stan insisted that they move on as there would be a queue at the next place.

Keith was a bit disappointed; the White Horse was becoming familiar, almost comfortable. Instead, they made their way to Briggate, and down an alley joined a queue of lively men, mainly their age but some older. Some dressed conventionally and casually, and others seemingly from another planet, similarly, the behaviour seemed to vary from the quietly conventional to alarmingly camp. Keith watched and occasionally exchanged glances with Thomas when someone colourful passed. Keith wondered how people dared show so much flesh, marvelling at the sight of one young man in brief shorts. Truthfully, Keith had gone out with Maria and her mates with the girls wearing less, but never a bloke. He nudged Thomas and grinned suggesting he might like the outfit.

Stan wandered away a couple of times to say hi to friends, but largely the queuing was taken up with stories about awkward clients, it turned out that Jan was also in retail and the four of them seemed to have a fund of anecdotes including Thomas. Their queuing got them into a court-yard which was bounded by two different gay bars. Full of gay men, noise, and lights, it proved the end of any sort of conversation with Stan and Jan, the noise was simply too great, not just the disco but also the sound of all these men enjoying themselves.

The rest of the evening was something of a blur of sounds, images, and colourful moments. They stayed perhaps longer than they intended and not as long as Stan and Jan might have expected. Neither Keith nor Thomas had any intention of venturing onto the small and crowded dance floor, but when a dance number from Keith’s youth came up, he couldn’t resist and pulled Thomas along. Once on the floor, Thomas proved far more at home than Keith, and they stayed on for a slow number which made a surprisingly romantic finish to the evening.

Bidding Stan goodbye, they agreed to meet up again. Keith wasn’t sure whether it would happen or not.

“That was the first time I’ve been to a club, I think, since Maria and I used to go.”

“You go regularly?”

Keith wrinkled his nose, “Maria liked to, but I wasn’t so keen. The music was OK, but none of me mates went, and it was all of Maria’s girlfriends. She liked to throw herself into dancing and whereas me, well you’ve seen me dance, as stiff as a brush she used to say. I used to enjoy it sometimes but got a bit narked over folk’s comments.” They walked for a bit in silence, just avoiding a group of revellers who already seemed well tanked up. “I allowed myself to be sort of bounced into a relationship. Maria liked the idea of a boyfriend in a job with prospects, and well I wanted a girlfriend. We found we had nowt in common. We were supposed to be saving up for a house, but she liked going out and, well”, he shrugged, “I didn’t. Not like that.”

“Did she have any idea you liked guys?”

“Christ, no! I had little clue myself, beyond a fascination with a couple of cottages, and I’d found them by accident. It wasn’t something I could talk about. ‘Sides, Maria and I never really talked proper about anything. Not even things like going to clubs, she just assumed I’d go along with what she wanted. And I did, I couldn’t say no.”

“Sounds like something from Oklahoma!”

Keith looked at Thomas rather gone out, “You what?”

“Oklahoma, the musical. Surely, you’ve seen it on TV at least?”

“Well…” And then in a pleasant light baritone Thomas launched into the song ‘I’m just a girl who can’t say no’ and Keith found himself grinning too and humming along, mood broken.

-oOo-oOo-

Sunday was quiet. They woke late, and together, in Keith’s flat; when discussing it the night before Thomas had grinned and said Keith’s bathroom was bigger which had made them laughingly imagine sleeping in Thomas’ bed but then dashing across to shower at Keith’s. After all, if they swam in the nude what was a towel between friends. Not that it mattered, Greg and Bart were away!

Breakfast was something of a feast, there were croissants to re-heat, eggs to scramble, bacon to grill (Thomas insisted it was healthier that way). That made Keith think about his cooking on Friday night and the resolution to cook together. The end result was a planned trip to Waitrose after a visit to Kirkstall Abbey. They hadn’t properly put together a list of places to visit, but Kirkstall was an obvious place. Neither had ever been. Traffic was bad, however, and took ages to get to the ruin, so they both arrived a bit frazzled.

Thankfully there was a café in the gatehouse, and the ruins themselves were impressive if rather forbidding. The abbey church was obvious, even unroofed it was still a thrilling space, but the other remains were more confusing. By the end of the visit, Thomas was in fits of laughter over Keith’s repeated attempts to make sense of things, allocating what went where on the plan. And before they left, Thomas had bought him not only the guidebook but a book on medieval monasteries.

There was more laughter at Waitrose as they leafed through a display of menu cards, trying to decide what to cook, neither of them very experienced. The result was a pile of groceries and two different menu cards, which led to a lively and companionable evening. And they discovered something, they could share a kitchen, even Keith’s small one, without getting into too much of an argument.