Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Those Left Behind - 4. The trouble with real life
By the time Ludo got to Arthur’s on Tuesday, he was frazzled and rock hard. Work had been stressful, Jackie had gone back to being her ‘too busy to bother’ ice-queen, he couldn’t get Arthur out of his mind and couldn’t tell anyone. It didn’t help that Damian seemed to have gone tree mad, and school had only exacerbated this by announcing a botany project, with a field trip. It was as if the Gods were conspiring against him.
But Arthur had had a brainwave, or two. There was pizza dough, the boys got to choose their toppings then were sent into the garden. Damian and Arthur had time alone with the boys in sight but not within hearing range, and no food to prepare. Ludo got his first blow job from a guy, in plain sight yet not. There was something exciting about the risk, with Arthur crouching down behind the kitchen units, unseen from the garden. The anxiety about the boys dashing in and finding them completely blown away by that first feel of Arthur’s lips on is dick. And, oh boy, was he good.
“If you’re gay, then how come Adam?” They were setting the table and had been exchanging confidences.
“My parents were devout; I knew I liked guys but had been taught that it was wrong. Uncle Edwin, well great uncle, opened my eyes.”
“He was gay?”
“Nothing was said, but I got the idea, and he’d take me out. Doing a bit of culture, ‘Good for the boy’, enlightening and on the way, I’d get another education too.”
“What sort of education?”
Arthur rolled his eyes, “Nothing like that. Get your mind out of the sewer, this was very high minded. We’d look at pictures, go to museums and country houses, that sort of thing. But there were men who liked men who created the pictures and things, wrote the music and poetry, as well as the myths and legends.”
“Gay men are everywhere in the arts.”
“That’s it. Though he never used the word gay, barely said homosexual, it was all about who you liked, that was it. I learned and appreciated.”
“Was it deliberate?”
“As a counterweight to my parents? Probably. But as I got older, I think he twigged that the idea of men loving men resonated with me more.”
“He sounds an amazing man.”
Adam smiled, “Oh, I think we’d have found him a bit of an old fogey, miles deep in the closet. But he had that subversive element, too.”
Ludo shook his head, “But Adam?”
Arthur looked sheepish, “I wanted kids. Selfish. At Uni we cooked up a plan, Maria and I, only fate laughed. She was a fellow student and someone whose company I enjoyed. Once we graduated it was a case of my sperm, her womb, and her parents to look after the baby whilst we both continued to work. The idea was that I’d be involved but not hands on.”
“But how did she get pregnant, did you pay for artificial insemination?”
Arthur laughed, “It was surprisingly easy. We just spent the Summer after graduation fucking like rabbits and she got pregnant.”
“Enjoy it?”
“Surprisingly. But I think it was more because Maria was a friend, and we had an end in view, so it was easier. I don’t think it’s something I’d ever do again.”
“So, easy enough.”
“Only she died, her Dad got early onset dementia. I became a single Dad.”
“Shit, sorry.”
“You make your bed. Then Uncle Edwin took me out, paid for a sitter, the lot. And he gave me a talk. It was important that his nephew wasn’t deprived. The boy needed a parent there, not absent, and he needed proper care, and in the future, a well-rounded education.”
“No shit.”
Arthur grinned, “Very definite ideas, Uncle Edwin. And wait for it, I needed space to have an emotional life myself, not just working all hours God gives. No specifics, but I knew what he meant.”
“And?”
“An allowance. Not enough to live on, but enough to help, meant I could work at home, part-time. And when he died, it kept on. The money’s in trust for Adam, we use the interest.”
“Fuck.”
Arthur grinned, “Later, here are the boys.”
Arthur’s comment stayed with Ludo the whole meal, could they, should they, would they?
And they did.
Arthur had a secret weapon, the baby alarm. Carefully packed away rather than being disposed of once Adam got older, it was newly resurrected; they had sex to the sound of the discreet burbling of their sons chattering about who knows what. It was weird, but what the hell? It was a moot point whether the alarm would have given them enough warning of imminent approach of the boys, but what Ludo and Arthur did was wonderful.
Did Damian twig that ‘something’ was going on? His conversation on the way home was all about Arthur, questions, comments, wanting to know what his Dad thought. How much did Damian see and understand? They’d had plenty of talks about sex, relationships, love and attraction, whether it was two men, two women or a man and a woman. They’d managed to get over the yuck and snigger factors, though put Adam and Damian together and they’d giggle away. They were only ten, after all, and sex was strange. But Damian seemed so percipient, and Ludo tried to cast his mind back to when he was ten. Would he have noticed if his Dad was having an affair with his best friend’s Dad?
The next couple of weeks floated past in a dream. Ludo and Arthur explored each other’s bodies in bits, snatched moments. But more than that was the sense of comradeship, a bond. It was a shock, one Friday evening when Jackie, home promptly for once, asked him what he’d got up to the previous evening. So, he’d described it, minus the sex.
The boys playing in the garden, a beer as Arthur made pasta with a tomato sauce and salad, then another beer followed by cheese (the men) and ice cream (the boys). Then the boys to Adam’s bedroom and the men then had watched an old film, Arthur’s choice this week. They’d take turns, this was a weepie, corny but with Bette Davies.
Jackie’s comment had been cutting, “How very suburban, you sound like an old married couple.”
He’d bridled, “Perhaps I am suburban. Arthur’s a great mate and he’s been a big help. We both lack company, at the moment.”
“But what happens when married life resumes its normal course?”
Ludo wanted to ask, ‘but will it?’ He lacked not the courage, but the energy to fight his corner. “He’ll still be a mate; we can still do stuff”. He grinned at Jackie, “After all, you can’t abide old films.”
She’d had the grace to smile back, “Touché”.
But it been unnerving, were people noticing the way he was on cloud nine? Then Ludo had had a truly disturbing conversation with Damian. The boy had calmly announced that Francis’ (another school mate) parents were divorcing because his Dad had a girlfriend. The Dad had been working late a lot and, surprise, surprise, the new girlfriend was the secretary. But then several of Damian’s friends and classmates lived in fractured or blended families. It was part of their life. Only this was a bit closer to home.
“Do you think Mum has a boyfriend at work?”
What to say? Ludo tried never to lie to Damian, simply to give the boy enough of the truth, but this time? “I don’t know, why do you ask?”
“Well, she’s been working late, A LOT”, the last two words were definitely said in capitals.
“She might just be working. And her colleague, Andreas, makes one of the Orcs look attractive.” Damian giggled; they’d been re-reading Tolkien together. “No, it’s true. He’s old, fat, ugly but very clever and important at the bank.”
“So, you don’t think?”
“Not with him, and there don’t seem to be any other candidates. She’s just working.” Ludo hoped that this was fair, and it seemed so to Ludo at the time.
---
“By my life, Ludovic Wilson.”
Ludo was in the coffee shop opposite the Parish Church. It was at the end of Snow Lane, one of the few vaguely historic and architecturally interesting bits off the High Street. Ironically, the coffee shop was in a modern building, but it had a rather neat, paved area and Snow Lane was pedestrian only, so not many cars at all. And the Parish Church for a view. He was supposed to be doing all sorts of things, but there was nothing urgent, at the moment. Instead, he was sitting with a coffee and enjoying the sun, the quiet. He looked up.
A short, rather stout woman was battling towards him; she was wearing a loose top and trousers, both in shades of grey, but with huge red earrings. Lesley’s hair was somewhat greyer now, too. How long had it been? Eight years maybe, perhaps less. They’d worked together and become, if not close friends, then good mates, the relationship stretching beyond just work and the odd drink. When careers parted, they stayed in touch for a bit then things had drifted. Ludo had found Damian taking up more of his time, whilst Lesley had had relationship problems. She’d been in a long-distance relationship with an American woman academic, and things had gone wrong. Ludo hadn’t learned the details, or perhaps he’d been too absorbed in Damian to bother following things up.
Now, Lesley had a boyish, almost elfin haircut, which set off her large eyes. These were fixed on Ludo. “Ludo, what are you doing here?”
“Lovely to see you too, Lesley. I live here!”
“Since when?”
Ludo smiled, “Since I got married. You remember me getting married?”
“Of course, how could I forget.”
“And what are you doing here?”
Lesley sighed theatrically, “How long have you got?”
He grinned, “Well, the coffee here’s pretty good.”
Lesley went off to buy a coffee and returned with a huge cappuccino. Ludo liked Lesley. They’d known each other at a time when both were up and down in relationships and had provided each other with mutual support. He kicked himself now for being stupid enough to let the relationship slide.
“You know I was seeing Daphne in the US?”
“The academic?”
“Yeah, Women’s Studies at Vassar College. Well, things weren’t going well with the long-distance stuff. I fancied a change, so I went out there. On a tourist visa but the idea was to look for work, get a green card, marry Daphne.” Lesley waggled her head.
“And?”
“Daphne had other ideas. She had a girl in each port, there was already an incumbent.”
“So, what did you do?”
A gleam appeared in Lesley’s eyes, “Had a satisfyingly public row to end all rows, hired a car and went travelling. Had a great time, met some great girls.” Here she leered at Ludo, “Then in Utah of all places I came to rest for a bit, in a lovely alternative vegan restaurant and hotel. Quite a find. And there was Dot. English, doing a tour, like me, before going home after a spell working at a West Coast college.”
“Another academic?”
She rolled her eyes. “We got on. No hanky panky, but we teamed up for a bit. Then back in good old Blighty we met again. And, well, we’re still together. She’s quiet and careful”. A grin. “Unlike me. Chalk and cheese.”
“But why here?”
“Dot’s setting up a new Garden History department at the college, the place in that ghastly Victorian monstrosity in The Garden. It’s going to mix horticulture, history and art history, the lot. So, we’ve moved here. I’ve gone freelance, hoping to make it work.” She pulled a wry face.
“Wow. That’s terrific.”
“Yeah. I think so. But bloody scary too. New town, new job, no friends. Then look who I meet. What about you?”
So, they got another coffee. Ludo told her a bit, but Lesley was never interested in a bit. She was all or nothing.
“You reckon Jackie’s seeing someone at work, maybe? Or just fixated on breaking the glass ceiling?” She stared at him, “Look, I don’t want to speak out of turn, but well you know me. She’s not involved in anything dodgy, is she?”
“Jackie? Hardly. The bank’s her life.”
“I know lovey, but audits, secure jobs, who audits the auditors? That sort of thing.”
“Hardly.”
“If you’re sure”, she didn’t look convinced, but Lesley had never been one to flog a dead horse. “Anyway, if Jackie’s busy, what do you do for fun? And don’t tell me that you stay at home being a good boy.”
At which Ludo went pink. Lesley had always been able to do that to him, find the chink in his armour. Should he tell her? It was years ago, but they’d told each other some raw stories and neither had ever breathed a word. So, he explained about Arthur. Then she put a hand on his arm. “Let me get this right, lovey. Arthur is a guy?”
Ludo smiled, “Through and through.”
“You’ve joined the dark side?”
“It wasn’t planned.”
“It never is lovey; who’d opt for a life of prejudice and dodging homophobic shits.” She grinned, “But it’s fun too. It work OK for you two?”
Again, Ludo blushed, “He’s wonderful.”
“That’s terrific”, she put her hand back on his arm. “But lovey, I don’t want to be the bad fairy at the wedding and all that, but what about your wife?”
Ludo wrinkled his nose, “I barely see her, we just about manage to share responsibility for Damian, so we do have family days at the weekends. But there’s never been a quiet time for the two of us to have a proper discussion, and she’s been stressed recently as work doesn’t seem to be going well. It leaves her”, he sighed, “snappish at best. I know we need to have a proper conversation. But finding a time when we both feel like it and are able to is proving ridiculously difficult.”
“Sure you’re not just putting it off because you have cold feet, lovey. Best get it over with. Talk to her!”
“Hell, I do try. But I sometimes wonder whether she’s being deliberately difficult. Then I see how tired she is.”
Lesley looked at him dubiously.
“I’m not blaming time of the month or anything, it’s been building for some time. Damian noticed too that she never has time or energy for anything at home. On good days she apologises and promises things are nearing completion. We’ve even talked about a family holiday.” He told her about Damian’s idea.
“Bloody hell, your kid’s got taste.”
“You know the place?”
“By reputation. Bit pricey for me, us. But you make sure you tell your wife, OK. You might get a surprise.”
“In what way?”
“Not every woman wants to be a devoted wife and mother, full time. If Jackie is wedded to her job, she might be content. Might, I say. A husband and son for weekends, work and whatever”, a waggle of the eyebrows, “in town during the week. And you get your man, Arthur, weekdays too.”
“You think?”
“Well, I’ve known it. And when do I get to meet this wonderful man?”
At that point Ludo’s phone pinged. It was Arthur. He would be walking down to the school to collect Adam, what was Ludo doing? It was simply done. Lesley was killing time and content to continue to do so, her planned exploration of The Garden could wait. They chatted on more general topics, where to live (she and Dot were renting), shops and such; Ludo also tried to answer Lesley’s question ‘What do you do for entertainment in this place?’ But he didn’t really know. They’d allowed themselves to get alarmingly insular.
“Dad, we were drawing oak trees today, look.”
Damian came tearing up to them, with Adam and Arthur following at a more sedate pace. Damian was waving a drawing at his Father and then came up short, aware of Lesley’s eyes staring at him with amusement.
“Hello, my name is Damian. He’s my Dad”, and then spoiling it by grinning at his Father and thrusting the drawing at him. Arthur took the two boys off to order an ice cream as a treat.
“It’s rather good for a ten-year-old.”
“Welcome to my world.”
“Damian’s botanical obsession?”
Arthur returned, having ordered coffee for himself and shoved the two boys off to play in sight but not sound. Ludo introduced them, and Lesley shook Arthur’s hand saying that Ludo had told her all about him, with a significant look on ‘All’. Arthur looked alarmed.
“Don’t worry, lovey. Ludo saw me through the ups and downs of my previous relationships, and I was a hand to hold when marriage and baby came in quick succession. I’m sure he’ll fill you in, but my partner Dot is working at the College, so we’ve moved here. Tell me, what does one do for fun here? Ludo doesn’t seem to know.”
Arthur laughed, Lesley was a bit of a force of nature, and they chatted about local facilities and groups. Arthur seemed to know so much more, probably because he actually enjoyed talking to fellow parents. Eventually, it was time to go and prepare tea. But they promised to keep in touch.
- 15
- 18
- 3
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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