Marc Jesmond - 14. Chapter 14 'The Single Minded'

Without his hair Glen felt cold and vulnerable, but losing his mobile was a disaster. Buying a replacement cell would be easy, re-listing that phone book almost impossible! - his contacts, his clients, his life, all stowed away in Marc Jesmond’s pocket. Worse still, he had nowhere to sleep.

But Glen was a survivor, and, as he loitered outside the boys’ flat he knew that eventually they’d return from their Saturday afternoon’s shopping, and let the fox back in. When Dominic and Selby got back Glen sauntered up, trying to look as mainstream as anyone can in a fur trapper hat. Selby was first to spot the changed image,

‘Wow, what have you done to your hair?’

‘Got rid - fancied a change - zero crop - way to go!’

‘But the weather’s getting colder’

Selby’s comment was well observed, but it was now official; Glen hated the little creep. Pointing to his own bizarre headgear, he mimicked,

‘Hello! Check out the hat’

But Dominic was delighted to see Glen. He too was stunned by the buzz cut, but he wouldn’t make the silly mistake of criticising his mentor. They all entered the apartment, neither boy thinking to ask Glen exactly what he was doing there.

The trio’s dynamic was changing, and poor Selby’s stock was falling. After they’d chilled for a while Glen called out to the boy,

‘Hey, Selby, isn’t there some clothes washing you can be getting on with?’

The boy replied peevishly that there wasn’t. Glen turned vulgar,

‘Then check out the bed sheets. I prefer ones I don’t stick to. Those fuckers are so crusty they could walk to the machines themselves. And most of it’s yours’

Dominic giggled at the foul observation; there was no denying the three of them had well and truly gummed up the bedding. Urged on by his boyfriend to go launder them, Selby did as he was told, leaving the two alone.

Dominic couldn’t take his eyes off Glen, nor hold back his feelings,

‘Last night, Jeez man; that was wild. It was my best ever’

Glen was more regulated,

‘Yeah, it was cool. I had a good time’

Then, assessing carefully what he was saying,

‘We should do it again’

And he meant it. Dominic leant over to kiss Glen, but he backed away, raising a hand,

‘Whoa!’

‘What’s wrong?’

The escort did a rapid assessment of his circumstances, then broke into a smile,

‘Nothing, you just caught me off guard a bit’

Then, half closing his eyes, he drew the boy closer and went in for the kill. He knew that his kissing was something else; married men had told him he kissed like they wished their wives would.

Dominic was now a lost cause. Overwhelmed by that unique thrill, reserved for the cheating heart, he wanted to devour Glen, starting with those gorgeous lips. His cock was stiffening rapidly, and a gentle stroke of Glen’s thigh confirmed the same. This was Dom’s first year away from home, and just look how far he’d come. All that suffering and angst had been worth it; man on man sex was just the greatest thing.

Then Glen broke away,

‘Christ, Dom you’re too fuckin’ hot. Just look at that!’

He tugged at the erection forming in his pants,

‘But we can’t do it here. Look, I got a new mobile today. I need your number again. Let’s do that now while your boy’s out’

Numbers were exchanged, and Dominic basked in the knowledge that he was now top of Glen’s contact list of one. Selby returned, blissfully unaware of what had passed,

‘Hey guys, guess what I just heard? The janitor downstairs said that the guy they took away yesterday is dead. It was Leon. You know, the.....

‘Yeah, we fuckin’ know; why don’t you save your news till you got something good to say?’

Selby, battered back by this unprovoked assault retreated to the kitchen. Dominic tried to salvage the moment,

‘So, where’re we going tonight?’

But Glen wanted no-one to see his scary crop and disfigurement, and the fur trapper hat wouldn’t work, even in a Newcastle club!

‘I want a night in. Let’s cash up and see if we’ve enough for some voddie, and not that shit we had last night’

Dom, cool with anything the boss suggested, it only remained to raid Selby’s purse, send him off to fetch the liquor, and hang out all evening while Glen demolished most of it.

It was hardly a party. The great man withdrew, knowing he had much to think over. Still stinging from the humiliating beating Marc Jesmond had given him, he was formulating a way to hit back.Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer, as they say. Parnaby and Campfire weren’t Glen’s staunchest allies, but he could be useful to them now, right? Wasn’t there some information they’d be grateful for?

Tomorrow evening might be just the time to pay them a visit.

But first there was a dull Saturday night to pass with two kids; thank God for vodka!

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Sunday afternoon was the time Selby visited his mother. Dominic could hardly contain his excitement at the prospect of being left alone with Glen. Yet there was anti-climax too; this was almost too easy. Infidelity gains potency and spice when the deception calls on us to be inventive, but here was his boyfriend handing him and Glen an afternoon’s fuck-fest on a plate! - or maybe not?

For, even as Selby was dressing and gathering up his man purse, Glen was preparing to exit too. Dominic had to say something,

‘Where are you going?’

The moody Glen had still not recovered his humour,

‘What’s it to you? Joined at the fuckin’ hip now, are we? I’ve got something to do, right? But I need a key; you two don’t need both of them, do you?

And he withdrew the key that was still in the door lock,

‘See you later. Don’t wait up’

As the door slammed Selby turned to the stunned Dominic,

‘What do we do now? If I go out you’ll be stuck in’

Dominic tried his hardest to be nice,

‘I’ll stay in, you go to your mother’s’

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Twice before, Glen had been to Brandon Hall, and the Dower House. But that made today’s visit no less a chore. The later stage of his journey was on foot. Trudging along the narrow road that meandered through the estate, Glen felt out of place among the day trippers who’d come to visit the stately house, a sea of old women with dandelion-seed hair, clutching worthless mementos of a pointless day out.

The escort neared the hall, taking the turning where he’d find Parnaby. The road led down through a cold, dark tunnel of trees and rhododendron, opening finally into a clearing. Glen spotted the Jaguar on the drive, and approached. He was nervous.

Campfire answered the door.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘I need to speak to you and Mr Parnaby’

‘Didn’t I warn you that I wanted you to....

A voice came from within,

‘Who is it, Gerald?’

The clerk did not answer, but kept his eyes on the escort,

‘What do you want?’

Glen, now a little calmer and bolder,

‘I have something you’ll both want to hear’

Parnaby appeared, urbane, glass in hand,

‘Well, well, well! I hope it’s something worthwhile that has brought you all this way’

Parnaby signalled Glen indoors and the two men followed him into the morning room, Campfire scowled,

‘It better be good’

Glen sat down, removing his ludicrous hat,

‘Yesterday morning, when I got back to my flat I saw this guy. He said he was looking for Leon. Somehow he’d got in and was snooping around. He seemed to think I knew where the kid was. Anyway, long story, short, he went ape and attacked me’

Here, he turned his head so that both could see the bruising, but neither was sympathetic, especially the clerk,

‘That must happen a lot in your line of business. Why come all this way to tell us that? Why not ring?’

‘Because the guy’s got my phone’

At once Campfire’s razor-like brain joined the dots,

‘Who was this man, what’s he called?’

Glen perked up, seeing his information now had value,

‘He’s called Marc, late thirties, I guess; lives down on the riverside next to the café’

The clerk spat out the words,

‘Gabrielle, I knew it, I knew that voice’

Glen shrugged,

‘It doesn’t sound familiar, and I saw his name on some letters too’

‘He’s called Jesmond now’

‘Yeah, that’s it. There was a letter lying around from the hospital’

‘You mean you’ve been to his house?’

‘Yeah, why not? It’s what I do’

‘So why did he beat you up?’

Glen played his ace,

‘Because he saw the screensaver on my mobile, and that picture of the kid that Mr Parnaby took’

The barrister and his partner exchanged cool looks. Then Parnaby leant over to Glen and, laying a hand on the young man’s knee,

‘You’ve had a rough time, young fellow. You may as well stay to dinner. I’ll get you something to drink, and you can tell us all about it?’

As Glen wrapped his lips around the fine merlot, he considered whose company was best on this Sunday evening; two college kids, one of which was cute, or a filthy rich barrister and his partner; a no brainer, really! And if Glen was all about the upgrade, then Parnaby was about reassessing the way he saw the escort. Maybe he’d been wrong. Glen’s lack of adventure, as the barrister had once put it - for not wanting to engage in auto-asphyxiation - now seemed pretty shrewd.

Campfire, tetchy and out of sorts, excused himself mid evening, and went to bed leaving the two men deep in conversation. But not before Glen, smiling sweetly bade him goodnight,

‘Sleep tight Gerald, see you in the morning’

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There was something different about Selby when he got back. Maybe he’d had a heart to heart with his mother. Who knows? There was certainly something different about Dominic; he’d spent the Sunday afternoon thinking. What a weekend this had been! On Friday night a guy they knew only by sight had burst into their lives. After a wild night of partying and sex, he’d left, only to return hours later beaten up and cropped; then followed a day of drinking and silence. Finally he’d taken off, no-one knew where.

Dominic was infatuated; he couldn’t get Glen out of his mind. For hours he mulled over the pros and cons of his present relationship, even scoring the two contenders points! But the answer always came out the same. If dating can be compared to a long haul flight on a 747, then Glen was champagne in first class, and Selby was like being stuck in the washroom in economy.

But Dominic had fallen into the trap of thinking that when a relationship isn’t satisfying one partner, it still might be OK for the other. Not so. Selby too had been thinking. After showering, he walked though to the living room, drying off. The slip of a boy scarcely weighed 130 pounds, and, as he towelled his unappealing ivory skin Dominic could hardly bear to look at him. But it was Selby who took the initiative, and when he’d dressed he got right to the point,

‘You’re still thinking about him, aren’t you?’

‘Who?’

‘Don’t insult me, Dom’

‘Then stop talking fucking shit. I don’t know what you mean’

‘You’re even talking like him now’

Silence

‘I can’t do that stuff again, what we did on Friday night. It’s not happening’

‘You’re over-reacting, as always. We were smashed, that’s all’

‘He wasn’t’

Dominic knew that was true. Selby continued,

‘You can make it sound like a laugh now, if you like. It wasn’t for me. He went all round this flat looking for things to shove up me. That’s abuse, and you went along with it’

‘It was a threesome!’

‘Yeah, three guys, three cocks, how much fun can you have, but NOT FOR ME!’

‘OK, have it your way, we won’t see him again, or anyone, we’ll just stay shut up in this fucking little cracker box’

Dominic stood up, boiling, but Selby was still rational,

‘Except he’s got one of our door keys’

‘I’ll get it back. Now just shut up about it’

Dominic flounced out, slamming the door. He needed to walk his anger off. What had just happened didn’t make him love or care for Selby, but now he had respect for him. Because he had learned a lessonthat Dominic still hadn’t. If you don’t respect and value yourself, how can you expect others to?

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Monday morning

Marc had settled on his plan. He needed to break into the Dower House.

Armed with the barrister’s address - gleaned from the Bar Association’s handbook - Marc knew that the pillar of society would be encased all day in some law court, and his seedy little companion would likewise be occupied with legal work. It was Marc’s best chance to invade their home and find the evidence he needed to sink them.

But why not kill two birds with one stone, and first pay a visit to Gerald Campfire at the offices of Haddaway and Crappe? There, he’d get the latest on the auction and the fate of his duplex.

The solicitors’ receptionist was her usual unhelpful self,

‘If you’re looking for Mr Haddaway, he’s in court this morning’

Marc walked past the woman like he’d not heard, and straight into Campfire’s office. The clerk stood up at once,

‘It’s usual for people to knock first; this must be quite important Marco?’

Marc fixed his old fellow student with dead eyes,

‘I’ve come to see how things went at the auction’

Campfire felt uncomfortable. This would not be good,

‘Well, I do have the information now, just give me a second’

The clerk fussed about the computer, Marc stood over him.

‘Right, Marco. Erm... as you appreciate, there are fees, costs and value added tax to come off....

Marc remained silent,

‘.....and when all that’s deducted, the balance comes to £107,530’

Campfire awaited the wrath of one who’s just learned that his home had sold for less than half its market value. But there was no response.

‘I do realise it’s disappointing, but times are difficult; and it was an auction after all’

Nothing was said. Marc walked out.

Marc Jesmond had never been a single minded person, quite the opposite. Many of his problems, personal and professional, had come about precisely because he didn’t know his own mind. But right now he was more focused than ever before, and he was finding it easy.

Why do we go weak-kneed over those strong willed potentates, presidents and prime ministers; those dynamic business men, and celebrities? There’s nothing to it. Being single minded isn’t clever. It’s just a cop out, and means you can junk all the other considerations of life the rest of us have to deal with.

Returning home, to gather equipment for the break in, Marc ignored the mail lying behind the door. He neither knew, nor cared what was there. Had he opened the letter from the hospital, this is what he’d have read:

Dear Mr Jesmond,

Following your recent biopsy this office has now received a copy of the results, and I am now in a position to discuss the findings with you. Please ring my assistant to make an appointment.

I cannot stress too much the importance of acting quickly in this matter,

Yours faithfully,

Ernest Milner, Chief Oncologist.

But Marc didn’t read it. He was busy in the garage assembling a bag of tools. And, in single minded fashion he’d determined that this afternoon, nobody was going to stand in his way.