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CHAPTER 15: The End of the Afternoon

As the phone at the other end of the line starts to ring she looks at her list. At long last she has reached the end. Just this one call and then she can relax. The phone rings for a long while. Just as she is about to hang up the phone is answered.

"Hello," says the carefully modulated voice at the other end. It's easy to see that the Honourable Hillary Wickham-Fiennes has gone to the right schools.

"Hello Hillary, Elizabeth Grainger here."

"Elizabeth, how are you?"

"Very well. How's your Sunday been."

"Most relaxing. Dicky's taken the children to the pictures and I've been enjoying the break. How about you?"

"I've been over at Veronica's."

"Oh?" Hillary pauses. "Has Cynthia spoken to you lately?"

"Yes."

"Is it true?"

"What?"

"About John?"

"What about John?"

"That he's homosexual."

"I didn't ask him."

"Well Cynthia told me…" Hillary begins.

"She told me too," Elizabeth cuts her off. She wants to avoid going down that track.

Hillary can sense that Elizabeth doesn't want to discuss John. "Are you coming on Tuesday?" she asks.

"Is that still on? Cynthia didn't mention it this afternoon."

"Cynthia was there?" Hillary asks in surprise.

"Oh yes." Hillary's another person Cynthia hasn't contacted. Each call she has mentioned Cynthia's name with trepidation, expecting to be told Cynthia's version of the afternoon, but as yet no one has heard from her. Maybe Cynthia's admitted defeat.

"Who else?"

"Let's see… Maria and Louis Cellini, Tina and Roger Fry, Graham and Sarah Carter…"

"Carter?"

"Yes Steven's parents. Steven was there too. There were some friends of theirs I didn't know, the Vicar of St Michael's, Rabbi Hermann and his wife, Grace Hayward and her grandson, Cynthia and Patrick of course, Margaret Grazebrooke..."

"Isn't she…"

"The local member? Yes. I nearly forgot, James Alcock from Belevedere High Scool was there too."

"Sounds a select gathering. I feel quite left out," Hillary says in an unconvincingly funny tone.

"Well you missed a pleasant afternoon. The weather was perfect and everyone got on so well."

It takes a second for Hillary to absorb this information. "Did the head say anything about the Carter boy?"

"He spoke to Steven himself. They had a long chat about next term." Well that's a bit of an exaggeration but how's Hillary to know?

"Oh."

"What where you saying about Tuesday?"

"Tuesday? That silly business about the Carter boy, there was a meeting to talk about it but I don't think it's going to happen."

"Isn't it? I wasn't going myself."

"Neither was I. I've got to run, Dicky's back."

"Bye bye Hillary."

"Bye."

Elizabeth can't help a self-satisfied smile as she hangs up. Ten phone calls and ten successes. On hearing that James Alcock has socialised with the Carters and the Dixons each and everyone had declared themselves innocent of any involvement in the plot to expel Steven. Such hypocrites! She's quite certain that Hillary had been one of the prime movers behind the conspiracy. If she's changed her tune then danger has been averted. Now for that gin and tonic. The clink of ice on glass behind her catches her attention. Kevin is standing there, a drink in each hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at the Dixon's the party has wound down, only the inner circle remains. Graham, Sarah and Grace are sitting on the terrace while Veronica and Raymond farewell the last of the guests. Linda and Patrick are by the pool, John and Steven are nowhere to be seen.

Slowly Paul, who has been sitting with his grandmother, walks over towards the pool. He desperately wants to talk to Patrick but doesn't know how to begin. This surprises him. He is quite comfortable with his sexuality and he is no innocent on the sexual front. It is several years since a chance meeting near Tewkesbury Abbey led to his first sexual encounter. Since then he has had a lot of good safe fun. Sometimes he wonders if that's what stopped him taking up filthy habits like smoking or drugs. He's been too busy enjoying sex to waste time on stupid things like that.

His slow progression has almost come to a halt when he realises that he is being watched. With an amused but friendly smile Linda is gazing at him. He feels quite silly and, trying not to look self-conscious, he speeds up to a normal walk.

"We wondered what had happened to you," Linda says as he sits down on her right.

"I've been with Gran."

"That's nice isn't it Patrick?" she asks turning to Patrick who is sitting on her left.

"Yes."

Linda stares at Patrick in amazement. For the last hour he's been pouring out his soul to her, telling her about his loves and desires and how they come together and embody themselves in the beautiful, sweet and lovely person of Paul Hayward. Now he's tongue-tied. She looks back and forth. She has a silent figure on both sides, mirror images of each other staring at the ground in deep discomfort. Linda sees no point at all in putting up with this.

"Right! Let me do the introductions." They both look at her in amazement. "Paul this Patrick Grenville-Barker, Patrick this is Hopewell Paul Hayward. Patrick, Paul thinks you're the most gorgeous person he's ever seen." She watches as Paul blushes deep red. "Paul, Patrick thinks you're sweet, sexy and, what was the other word?" She is amused as Patrick turns the same delightful shade of scarlet. "Beautiful, that was it. Okay boys I'm leaving you to it. If you're not talking too each other when I come back I'll, I'll, I'll just have to embarrass you some more." She gets up and leaves them in reddened silence.

The embarrassed quiet stretches until Paul can stand it no more. "Do you really think I'm beautiful?" he asks.

"Yes. Mind you I don't think much of the eyeshadow," Patrick tells him as he moves closer.

Paul rubs his bruise. "I wasn't sure about it myself. That's why it's only on one side. If you don't like it I'll never wear it again."

"I hope you don't. Did you really say I'm gorgeous?"

"Yes. So did Linda. I thought we'd have to fight a duel over you."

"I would have been barracking for you."

"I'm glad."

"Is your name really Hopewell?"

"Unfortunately."

"I promise I'll never use it."

"Patrick."

"Yes?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to say your name."

"I like the way you say it."

"I'll say it as often as you want."

"How about everyday for the rest of my life?"

Paul is too surprised to say anything. His silence sends a shiver up Patrick's spine. He is suddenly worried. "I didn't ask. Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No."

"Would you like one?"

"Are you asking me out sir?"

"Most definitely," Patrick says with a grin.

"Just wanted to make sure. When's our first date?"

"What are you doing tonight?"

"Spending it in your arms."

"What would your gran say if she could hear that?"

"Something like 'Over my dead body young man'."

"Does she know you're gay? You are gay aren't you?"

"She already knew. She told me when this happened," he holds up his bandaged hand. "And yes I am most definitely gay."

"Can I kiss you?"

"Right here?"

"Is anyone looking?"

"Apart from my Gran and Steven and John's parents and Linda?"

"Are they all looking this way?"

Paul has a quick look over his shoulder. "Only Gran and Linda."

Patrick smiles and quickly leans over to kiss Paul on the cheek. As his breath brushes Paul's cheek Paul turns like a pin seeking a magnet and Patrick's lips find his waiting. Their kiss lasts but a few seconds but the fire it lights burns on as their eyes meet in an all-encompassing glow.

"What a great way to spend a Sunday," Patrick says quietly.

"There's a lot of it left yet," Paul replies.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From his bedroom window John and Steven are looking down.

"Love at first sight?" Steven asks John.

"I think so."

"Just like us."

"That was lust at first sight."

Steven laughs. "Nothing wrong with good honest lust."

"Lust's what brought us together."

"I never asked you."

"What?"

"What you were doing there that day."

"The day we met?"

"That one."

"Same thing you were."

"Was it your first time?"

"I wish it had been," John says wistfully.

"Sorry to pry."

"It's okay."

"Was I the first?"

"Yes."

"But I thought you said…"

"That I had done it before?" John looks out the window. He is a little shocked to be talking about this. He is amazed at how much things have changed in such a short time. "I had been there before but I was too scared to do anything. The first time someone approached me I ran away."

"Was he good looking?"

"Sort of, not too old, maybe 30. He had nice eyes."

Were they eyes like Brad Pitt, Steven wonders. "But you didn't?"

"No."

"How did you know to go there?"

"Fair's fair Steve. How did you know?"

"By accident. About a year ago I went in there because I had to and I saw what was going on."

"Same here."

"Let's not talk about that."

"Too sordid?"

"Ancient history."

"BPD?"

"Most definitely BPD."

"I love you Steven Carter"

"I love you John Dixon. Kiss me quick, before I faint from desire."

"Wouldn't want you to faint," John whispers as he leans forward to brush Steven's lips with his own. His lips move like a butterfly from lips to eyes, to nose and back to lips where they finally settle. Their arms wrap about their beloved's body as their bodies seek to conjoin. Oblivious to the fact that they are standing framed in the window their kiss deepens. Down below Patrick and Paul gaze at each other and their weary elders sit in peace. Only Linda sees them. The sight is so sweet that she cannot help the tears that spring to her eyes. Brushing them away in annoyance she looks away, not wanting to intrude on their privacy. She feels very lonely.