Scene Change - 2. Chapter 2

“Helen, it’s Connor.”

“Yeah, I know, sorry, things have been fuc… really crazy. Look, are you busy?”

“Great, I need to see you, and your help.”

“Can you come now?”

“No, I mean, literally, now. I’m just coming in to town now. Can you?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. But it’s way too complicated to explain on the phone.”

“Ha ha. Honestly, it’s not something you’re going to guess.”

“Thank you. Seriously.”

“Yeah, and don’t drink, I need you to drive.”

“For a few hours maybe? I know, I wouldn’t ask…”

“Great, thanks, I’ll see you soon.”

We were meeting at one of the cafe’s on the beach front. Predictably, Helen was later than she said, but I didn’t really have any choice other than to wait. We were at a table outside, enjoying the warm weather, and I was too distracted to see her walking over.

“Con, sweety, what the hell is going on? And why are we here? Connor? Who’s this?”

“Hi Helen, thanks for coming. This is Leon.”

Leon was sitting at the table next to me, drawing with some crayons.

“OK?”

“He’s, well, he’s my son.”

He know’s we’re talking about him, he looks over at me, but doesn’t speak.

“Come again?”

“Yeah.”

Helen crouches down so she’s on Leon’s level.

“Hi Leon, what are you drawing?”

He just looks at her for a few seconds, and then carries on drawing.

“He’s four, but he doesn’t say much. I’ll fill you in on that later.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“I didn’t know.”

“And where’s his Mu…”

I was shaking my head, she got the message.

“Leon is living with me now, so I need you to come help us with some shopping and stuff.”

“Is that why I have to drive? What’s wrong with your car?”

“Nothing, but it only has two seats.

“Oh, of course. OK then, I need a coffee first, then we’ll go. So what do you need to buy?”

“Everything.”

“Everything?”

“We got here about ten minutes before you did, this is basically all I've got.”

I pointed towards the small hold-all filled with Leon’s clothes.

“Con, this is crazy, what are you going to do? And why are you doing this?”

“I promise we’ll talk later, please Helen, I just need to get some things sorted right now.”

Helen finished her coffee and I collected up the few things that Leon had with him, which amounted to worryingly little. I picked him up and he clung on to me like I imagine an astronaut might cling to the last cylinder of breathable air in a doomed spaceship. It was a few minutes walk to the car, but he was hardly heavy.

Following the most surreal couple of hours shopping I've ever experienced, we were done, at last, and I just wanted to get home. Leon had refused to let go of me or walk anywhere in any of the shops - I'm no expert but he seemed pretty scared of being around so many people. So I'd been carrying him everywhere, at least he's small. Helen helped me get everything inside, and for the first time Leon seemed happy to be left alone, albeit with the TV remote. He definitely knows how that works. I decided that we needed some time on our own so Helen agreed to drop by later to see how I was getting on.

To be honest, it was all stupidly difficult and depressing. When I finally sat down having put Leon to bed and reading to him, reality hit me. I wanted a drink, but thought I probably shouldn't. I wanted to go out and see people, but I couldn't. And I wanted to find a fit guy on Grindr for a few hours of meaningless fun, and couldn’t do that either. I didn't even have my own bed because I was sharing it with Leon until his arrived. Helen ignored my pity party and poured herself a glass of wine. We spoke quietly, I didn't want to disturb him, or for him to hear what we were talking about.

“I want to ask where his Mum is, but then I'm thinking, what the fuck is going on here? The super-gay guy has a child?”

“Yeah, well, I used to think I was bi, and I used to drink a lot, take drugs a lot, and go to parties a lot. Usually all on the same night.”

“So?”

“It was a very short relationship, she was too crazy, even for me. And no, I had no idea about Leon.”

“And now he’s living with you?”

“Yeah, Leanne, or Alena, I don’t even know now, his Mum, she had been having some problems, Social Services got involved but she didn't really do anything to help. They started talking about putting him in care, which is when she decided to tell them about me, so they have to ask me about doing stuff like that, apparently. But then she went totally fucking off the chart and they had to move faster, so it was either me or some temporary foster home.”

“And you chose this? I don't want to sound mean Con but are you sure this is best?”

“Of course it is, I'm his Dad! I can't just leave him in the system, who knows what the fuck would happen to him?”

 *****

Six months later, and things are sort of stable for me and Leon. He talks to me now, which is sweet, and I got him into school. It’s the nearest school to where we live, which is convenient, but also means it’s not the ‘best’ school. But he seems to be doing okay there. His teacher has been really helpful and understanding, and it’s very reassuring to see that Leon is actually pretty confident and sociable, with other kids at least. He’s even got a best friend at school now, a boy called Andre who seems nice enough whenever I see him in the playground.

With adults, it feels like it’s me or no-one. It’s flattering that my son think’s I’m both Superman, and the only adult he ever needs, but it’s also really hard work and terrifying. I know enough that he’s seen and been in some broadly unsafe and scary situations with his Mum previously, so I guess that’s going to have had a big impact on him. A few of the mum’s have started to talk to me as if I’m a normal human being, although most still regard me with either pity or suspicion. A single Dad still seems to stand out, even in Brighton, presumably a gay one even more so. Not that I’ve actively told any of them that, I’m not sure how to talk about it with Leon yet. But my life, well it’s not quite so good as his is. Professionally, I’m having to turn down a lot of work, which isn’t really sustainable. But I can’t just go off somewhere for a few weeks anymore. I’ve hired an assistant, and with his help and a lot of video calling between us I’ve been able to finish all of the stuff I had committed myself to previously, but I’m not taking very much new work on. And my love life, or more accurately my sex life, because love has never really come in to it, that’s at absolute zero. It seems that guys are much less interested, even for something casual, when I tell them I have a kid. Not that I even have the opportunity as basically all I do is cook and clean and tidy.

Leon and I were sat in the kitchen, which is really just one end of the lounge because it’s open plan, like we did most mornings. He was eating dry cereal with his hands. I should probably try and get him to stop doing that. He uses a knife and fork like any other kid, but usually refuses to use a spoon to eat cereal.

“Daddy?”

A word which I’m still getting used to being meant for me. And, a warning. Already I’ve learnt that I’m usually just called ‘Dad’, but when he wants something, I magically get transformed into ‘Daddy’. Smart kid, it works every time, well almost. As much as I try and maintain sensible boundaries, he’s the centre of my world, and he knows it. At least I try and make sure he knows it.

“Yeah?”

“Can Andre come and play after school one day?”

This is big news in my now tiny world. Leon has never yet wanted to go to anyone else’s house when he’s been asked, and hasn’t even hinted that he wants anyone to come here either. I’ve often asked him, but he’s always said no.

“Sure Leon, I’ll ask his Mum or Dad about it when we get to school.”

It seemed to vary as to who did the school run with Andre, but I knew his parents at least well enough to recognise them in the playground. When we got there Leon gave me a hug and a kiss before running off to play with his friends. Like everyone else I waited around until he was safely inside school before leaving, so I had a few minutes to find whichever of Andre’s parents was there. It was an easy task, he was the only other guy there.

“Hi, I’m Connor, Leon’s Dad.” As if I had lost any sense of my own identity, I’m primarily identified only as Leon’s Dad.

“Yeah, hi, I’ve seen you around. I’m Joel.”

“Leon wanted to know if Andre could come around to our house and play some time? They’ve gotten to be friends.”

“Sure have, Andre talks about him all the time.”

“So what do you think, would that be OK?”

“Erm… yeah, sure.”

“You can come with him, I know you and his Mum don’t really know me so…”

“Oh, no, it’s not that, it’s just, well honestly, Andre doesn’t get asked to go play very often, so it’s a little surprising.”

“Well you or his Mum are welcome to come as well anyway.”

We chatted for a bit and swapped mobile numbers after finally agreeing on Friday that week after school. When I picked him up after school Joel was there again, and both Leon and Andre were really excited about the whole thing. And honestly, I was kind of excited too. Partly, because it was really great that Leon was socialising with his friends, and partly because I might get some normal-ish adult contact that isn’t all about work. Also, because Joel was more than okay to look at. With my complete lack of grown-up fun, spending some time with a cute looking guy for a couple of hours was the best I could hope for. Slightly desperate isn’t it?

I spent all day Friday cleaning and tidying the flat, not that things were that bad, but I was paranoid about having people come over. My office, now successfully transformed into Leon’s bedroom always seemed to need tidying. Considering six months ago we walked in with basically nothing, he definitely has more toys that I remember growing up with, and definitely way better Lego. Although stepping on Lego introduced me to a whole new world of pain. A couple of notice boards and a desk have made one corner of the lounge my work space, because my bedroom is actually smaller than Leon’s, and the rest of the main areas is sofas, TV, gaming consoles - the usual stuff. Leon doesn’t have a TV in his room, because I wanted us to spend time together when he first moved here, which is working out really well. It also means I can keep an eye on what game’s he’s playing on my Xbox and Playstation.

We all walked together after school on Friday, or rather, Andre and Leon ran ahead of us as Joel and I walked. It’s about ten minutes from school to our flat, during which Joel and I chatted easily about nothing in particular, but he seemed like a nice enough guy. As soon as we were inside the boys disappeared into Leon’s room and some surprisingly complicated game involving dinosaurs, space ships and pirates was underway. I didn’t understand the rules, but then I rarely did whenever I was playing one of Leon’s made up games, and if it seemed like I was getting close, he would change them anyway. The grown-ups went through to the lounge where I started to make us coffee.

“So are you some sort of artist?”

Joel was stood by my work desk looking at some drawings I still had pinned up.

“Sort of, I’m a designer, or at least I used to be.”

“Used to?”

“I did a lot of freelance work, but that’s not really been possible since Leon came here.”

I could see Joel trying to suppress further questions.

“It’s okay, you can ask, I’m sure the new guy get’s talked about on the playground and you’ll get bonus points on Monday if you have any actual news I’m sure.”

I was smiling, but was partly serious. I’ve seen how some of the other parents look at me.

“Sorry, I won't be reporting back, I promise, but I suppose you just kind of stand out.”

I wasn't totally sure what he meant, but thought it was probably better left that way.

“Yeah, maybe. Well anyway, Leon used to live with his Mum, but that wasn’t going so well, so he ended up living here with me instead.”

“Just you two? Are you and his Mum divorced or something?”

“Ha ha - no, not exactly.”

“Sorry, I’m asking too many questions.”

“It’s okay, you’ll get serious playground credibility when you know what really happened.”

The machine beeped and I made us both coffee before sitting down at one end of the sofa, Joel at the other. I regretted my last comments and so tried to move the conversation away from me.

“Do you and Andre’s Mum live near here?”

“Rachel, yeah, she does, not far at all actually, I live out by the marina.”

“Oh, right, sorry I didn’t realise.”

“It’s OK, she’s my sister, it would be strange if I did live with her!”

“Yeah maybe. I should know better than make stupid assumptions, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. She finds it hard being a single parent so I help her out when I can, but I guess you know all about how difficult it can be.”

“You have no idea! Six months ago I didn't even know I *was* a parent.”

“Are you serious?”

“Absolutely, my life is basically unrecognisable.”

“Well for what it's worth, I think you're doing great.”

We chatted plenty more, mostly about work and living in Brighton. I found out that Joel is an engineer, but the kind that mostly wears a suit. It didn't seem very long before both Leon and Andre were running in to the lounge to find us.

“Dad, can Andre stay and have dinner with us? Please Daddy? Huh?”

I looked at Andre, and then to Joel. The two of us politely argued about whether or not this was an imposition and finally agreed that it was totally fine. The boys disappeared as soon as it was confirmed. I mentally chastised myself for planning to eat crappy processed chicken for dinner as I sought out enough real ingredients to make some pasta sauce and garlic bread. It’s not so much that I can’t cook - it’s one of the few things I’m actually grateful to my Mum for, but for the most part I can’t be bothered. This has improved significantly since having Leon with me, although there’s not been any sort of overnight transformation into domestic goddess. But a halfway decent pasta sauce and some garlic ciabatta are easy enough to throw together.

As I stood up, still holding a bag of flour, I was met with Joel being ever so slightly too close to me.

“Anything I can do to help?”

Frankly, at least the first thirty seven answers that ran through my mind were completely inappropriate. I settled on a much more respectable option.

“Thanks, but I’m all good. Do you want a beer?”

“I guess just one would be OK.”

I was relieved, because that’s what I’d been thinking, but also didn’t want to look like a crap Dad who drinks when he should be taking care of his son. I opened a couple of bottles from the fridge and he stood there watching me make dinner and chatting.

The whole thing was good, dinner was good, Andre and Leon were obviously good friends, and Joel and I got on really well too. And that was the problem. Exactly how well were we getting on? Come on Con, it’s only been six months, you’re gaydar can’t have broken through lack of use, can it? But I couldn’t get a handle on what was going on. On the one hand, all perfectly ordinary, two guys just passing time with each other perfectly politely whilst their nephew and son respectively played together. Nothing at all remarkable. So why didn’t that feel like an adequate explanation? It didn’t cover those moments where I caught Joel and I just looking at each other, not speaking. Or the feeling I had on more than one occasion that something might be about to happen, not that it did. You know the feeling, when you meet a guy for sex but he needs to pretend there’s something more social happening so you go for a beer first and then take him back to your place. It’s that moment immediately before you start kissing him and undressing him, even though you both know that’s the only reason you ever met, there’s still a very tiny pause.

By the end of the night I’d convinced myself that this really was just in my ’obviously too horny for my own good’ head. Joel and Andre left, leaving Leon feeling tired and me feeling confused. I put Leon to bed, making story time slightly shorter than usual because he was trying really hard to not fall asleep, not even managing to keep his eyes open for as long as it took me to stand up and walk to the doorway. Like I’ve done so many times I crept back in to his room a little later and just sat there watching him sleep. Wondering and worrying in equal measure. Had I done the right thing? Was I getting it right? Was he really better off with me? I was brought back to reality by the silent vibrating of my phone in my pocket. It was a message.

‘Thanks for a great time, Andre enjoyed it too.’

Shit. That did nothing to help me.

As usual, hopefully you have enjoyed this story so far, but whatever your feelings, your feedback is much appreciated