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CHAPTER 30: Preparations

"Hello?" It's just gone 1PM and John was walking out his front door when his mobile started ringing.

"Hi Boss."

"Kev, how's it hanging?"

"Low and heavy."

"Witty as ever," John groans. "What can I do for you?"

"What are you up to tonight?" Kevin asks. He's heard rumours of what John has planned.

"Throwing a party for Steven's birthday," John answers hesitantly. He's not ashamed to be doing it, but he can't get over the feeling that Kevin can't possibly approve.

"Am I invited?" Kevin asks softly, expecting refusal.

John is quite taken aback. Will Steven mind? Not if Kevin behaves himself. "Sure."

"Can Dave come too?"

"You two on a date?"

"Get real. He's not my type."

"Too dark?"

"Too masculine. His bits are all in the wrong places."

"I'm sure if you ask nicely he'll put them in the right places."

Kevin laughs. "Don't be disgusting."

John pauses. He has a question he just has to ask. "Why do you want to come?"

"Dave and I've been talking. We've been right bastards to Steven and we want to make it up."

"For my sake?"

"Sort of. But also..."

"Yes?"

"Jess'll be there too."

"She will."

"I need to set things right with her."

"That's over Kev."

"I know, damn it, I know."

But you never do know, John thinks after their conversation is over.

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

Cynthia looks around as she walks into the restaurant in the centre of Basingstoke. She easily finds Veronica, sitting at a table looking out onto the street. Veronica, who is ordering something, waves to her and makes the waiter stay 'til she gets to the table.

"Hello Cynthia. Can I get you a drink?"

"A gin and tonic would be marvellous."

Veronica nods to the waiter who ambles off to fill their order. She smiles at Cynthia who is sitting there nervously.

"How was…" Veronica begins as Cynthia says "Veronica…" They both stop to wait for the other to continue.

"How was your morning?" Veronica asks.

"Curious. I think everyone I know has rung, and you'll never guess who dropped by."

"Who?"

"Hillary!"

"What was she after?"

"Veronica!" Cynthia rebukes, smiling to show she's only joking.

"Cynthia dear, you know Hillary as well as I do. She must have wanted something."

"She did, but let's not bother with her." Cynthia pauses briefly. "Veronica, it was so kind of you to ask me to lunch."

"We often lunch."

"I know. But I didn't think … after ..." She takes a deep breath. "Look I really want to apologise for last Sunday."

"There's nothing to apologise for."

"Yes there is. I was an utter beast. I went there determined to harm the Carter boy and with no good reason."

"You thought you had."

"But I didn't and that makes my conduct all the worse."

"Then apology accepted. What's brought…" Veronica stops as the waiter has brought their drinks. They order light lunches and when they alone again Veronica continues. "What's made you change your mind?"

"Many things."

"The man with the knife?"

"To a large extent. It was awful Veronica. I don't know if he meant to harm Eli or just use the knife to get him away."

"Eli is the boy?"

Cynthia nods. "I think he might have used it. He had hurt him before."

"But why?"

"Because his son is homosexual."

"That's what made you think?"

"Partly. That and..."

Veronica waits. She is fairly sure that the other thing is Patrick, but if it isn't she doesn't want to stuff things up by mentioning him.

"…Patrick."

"Ah."

"You know?"

"Yes."

"How long have you known?"

"Since Sunday."

"That's when he told me but I refused to believe him. Then yesterday I saw all that at the Hall and Jack made me talk about it."

Veronica wonders who Jack is but decides it's incidental. "How are you coping?"

"It's not easy is it?" Cynthia asks sadly.

"No. I took it badly at first but Raymond and Grace helped me accept it."

"Raymond's okay, isn't he?"

"Yes, he took it quite well. He says he'd started to suspect, but it wasn't 'til after Prize Day that he knew for sure. How's Jacob taking it?"

"Badly. Very badly indeed. It makes it hard not being able to talk to him about it."

"I'm here."

"Thank you."

"Cynthia all you have to remember is that Patrick is your son and he deserves your love and support all the time, no matter what."

"I know. It's taken me a long time to work that out."

"Are you going to Maria's tonight?" Veronica asks, changing the subject.

"Yes. Are you?"

"No. John's hosting a birthday party for Steven at home and we're going out to dinner with Steven's parents and Grace."

"That'll be more fun than Maria's."

"Do you want to join us?"

"Do you think the Carters would mind? They're probably still be upset about Sunday."

"Don't worry about that. Since Prize Day we're all learning to adjust to things pretty quickly. I think the ripples of that will be moving through our lives for a while yet. Now let's eat." Veronica nods at the waiter who is advancing with their lunches. Cynthia smiles agreement. Friday night with Veronica is a lot better than an evening of brittle falseness with Hillary and her friends.

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

In another part of Basingstoke two other people are spending 'quality time' together, and are thoroughly enjoying it. Although it can't last forever, as one of them has realised.

"We'll have to get up soon."

"Do we have too?" Mark protests, peering at the clock to find it's only 3.30. "It's ages 'til the party"

"Yes, but not 'til mum gets home."

"Shit!" Mark jumps out of bed and starts struggling into his jeans.

Wendy laughs joyously at his anxious attempts to dress. "Not yet pillock, not yet. We've got time for a shower."

Mark drops his jeans on the floor. "Good! For some reason I'm all sweaty," he says with a satisfied smirk.

"Funny that. Been working out?"

"Sure have. Lots of good clean exercise."

"Good? Clean?"

"What else would you call it?"

"I call it a great way to spend an afternoon."

Mark jumps onto the bed and the two of them roll about laughing, kissing and fooling around. Then the kissing becomes more fevered and the fooling begins to stir into something else, something just as much fun, but far, far, more interesting

"Don't start that again," Wendy sighs unwillingly, longing for Mark to do the exact opposite. "We'll never be up when mum comes home."

"I'm up already."

"So I see, and feel."

"There's time, there's time," Mark pleads.

"'Were there world enough and time!' Come on."

Wendy rolls out of bed pulling the sheet after her. She grabs Mark by the most convenient bit to hand. Someone once said 'Get them by the balls and their hearts and minds will follow.' Wendy doesn't have him by the balls, just by something damn close. That works too. Soon they're in the shower.

"Do you think he'll like it?" Wendy asks starting to soap Mark's chest. As her hands slip lower Mark shivers in delight.

"I certainly like that," he moans.

"Of course you do," she teases, running her soapy hand along his sensitive rigidity. "This controls your mind."

"Keep that up and my mind'll lose control."

"Again?"

"Can I help it if you drive me wild with desire?"

"I hope not." Wendy removes her tantalising hand, they kiss and rinse off. Wendy hops out of the shower and dries off. Mark has to wait for her to finish as they're only using one towel. That way they hope Wendy's mother won't get suspicious.

"Do you think he'll like it?" Wendy asks again.

"Steven?"

"Who else?"

"Sure to."

"It's not very original."

"The CD or the subscription?"

"The CD!" Wendy throws the towel at him. "I'm sure no one else'll give him a subscription to the Gay Times."

"You're probably right."

Mark dries hurriedly and before Wendy can start to dress takes her in his arms and kisses her. Perhaps there is time enough after all.

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

Other people are not so lucky. For them it's not school holidays, they have too work for a living. One of them is Linda, happily cutting hair and chatting away to her client. Some of her regulars can be pains in the neck but this one is rather nice. Linda doesn't bother about the ringing phone, letting Joyce answer it. However, it is for her. Apologising to her client, Linda puts down her scissors and comb and picks up the phone.

"Linda here."

"Hello Linda."

"Ian!" A thrill of joy courses up Linda's spine, followed immediately by a fleeting moment of panic. "You are still coming tonight?"

"Try and keep me away. After hearing all about Steven last night I want to meet him."

She can almost hear the smile in his voice. Did she go on too much about Steven?

"What time should I pick you up?" she asks.

"Could be a bit tricky. I'm installing some equipment here. It's going to take at least another hour and I mightn't be finished 'til six."

"I could still pick you up."

"Then you'll be late. I wouldn't want that. I know how much Steven means to you."

"So considerate." Shit! Did she really say that?

"I try hard. I've got a solution though. I'm near Nigel's office and he's got to work pretty late too. Gavin's picking him up and they've offered to drop me off at the party."

"I'll give him a hug for that."

"Save one for me."

"It's a promise."

"See you later."

As soon as she is off the phone Linda races over and gives Gavin a big hug.

"What's that for?"

"For giving Ian a lift."

"Well thank you m'lady. There's a condition though."

"What?" Linda asks suspiciously.

"We want to come in for a bit."

"Why?"

"Nigel wants to meet the fabled Steven."

"Okay. Just make sure you don't spoil the surprise by walking in at the wrong moment."

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

Patrick is about to head upstairs for a shower when his father calls to him.

"Patrick, I want to see you."

"Yes dad."

Jacob Grenville-Barker escorts his son into his study. Patrick flashes back to the interview of Sunday night. He's certain this is connected. Why does his father have to be home so early this afternoon? Patrick planned to be ready as early as possible so that he and Paul could have a few blissful hours together before the party. It's nearly four and Paul will be here at four thirty.

"Your mother's talked to me." Jacob pauses. "I accept that you haven't disobeyed me and talked to her about this. It was that incident yesterday that made her think about it. She's been through an ordeal and she's upset."

What is his father excusing his mother for?

"She's told me that she accepts that you're homosexual," he pronounces it correctly, with a soft initial O, but distastefully as if he were discussing a dog turd. "She thinks I should too. However, I am not emotionally distraught and I do not accept it."

Patrick, who had begun to relax, stiffens in shock. Will this never end?

"I know it's considered unfashionable to think there's anything wrong with homosexuality but I'm old fashioned and I will not let my only son choose to be homosexual."

CHOOSE! Paul is about to protest but Jacob holds his hand up in a gesture of silence.

"You are simply too young to decide your sexual orientation and definitely too young to understand the implications of that decision. I blame it on the speech that damn boy gave on Prize Day. That should not have been permitted. You're at an impressionable age so I suppose it's normal to identify with your heroes. Although why you couldn't make a hero of someone like Kevin Grainger I do not know."

"Or John Dixon?" Patrick asks sarcastically.

"Don't answer back young man!" Jacob flares in anger, then controls himself. "Since you've got this strange idea in your head I've decided to take it seriously. I've made an appointment with a good man in London next Wednesday. You can go up on Tuesday and stay at the flat."

"I don't need a psychiatrist."

"I say you do and that's final. It may take a few sessions but we'll get this silly idea out of your head."

"Dad I'm not going."

"You are. I am your father and you will do as I say," Jacob orders sharply.

Patrick simmers rebelliously. For too long he's let his father give orders and either obeyed them or, more often, flouted them on the quiet. This time he will not give in. This time his father's gone too far. "No," he says softly.

"What did you say?" Jacob demands.

"I said no," Patrick replies in a louder voice. "I will not go."

"You'll do as you're told," Jacob commands, his eyes narrowing in anger.

"No. I am gay. I do not want…"

"What you want is not important!"

"… your specially chosen quack…"

"You will do as I say!"

"… trying to convince me I'm not." Patrick finishes. deliberately ignoring his father's interruptions.

"It's for your own good."

"Fuck off!"

"Don't swear at me!"

"You're the one who needs a shrink," Patrick declares contemptuously.

"How dare you!" Jacob springs to his feet and jumps around his desk, his face flushed with rage.

Patrick has never gone this far before. He has never needed to. But he is no longer a small child who will obey out of terror. He has grown into a strong young man and has finally decided that the bigot he calls dad has gone too far.

"YOU WILL DO AS YOU'RE TOLD," his father screams.

"NO!" Patrick shouts back.

"THEN YOU WILL GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE AND NEVER COME BACK."

"WITH PLEASURE!!!"

Patrick turns to storm out of the room and out of the house. His defiance only enrages Jacob more. He grabs a lead paperweight off the desk and hurls it at his son. As he does the door of the office bursts open. The sound startles Patrick and he looks quickly to see who it is. The flung paperweight passes his head and flies out the door, narrowly missing Cynthia. There is a crash as it lands on a coffee table, shattering an ashtray.

The three figures stop, frozen in shock, Jacob by what he has done, Patrick by the look of horror in his mother's eyes, Cynthia by seeing a father attack his own son, something she never expected to see again. She is the first to rally.

"What is going on here?" she demands, shaking in revulsion at her husband's conduct.

"Dad just threw me out."

"Jacob?"

"If he wants to be gay he can get out."

"Gladly," Patrick sneers.

"You're not going anywhere," Cynthia replies with deadly calm, pulling her nerves under control.

"Cynthia!" Jacob reproaches.

"Patrick is not leaving. If you have a problem with his being gay Jacob, then ... then you can go."

"Don't be stupid."

"Stupid? Am I the one who's being stupid? Jacob if you think the only solution is to try and kill your own son then get out right now."

"Try and make me."

"Oh I can make you alright. Remember who owns this house."

"I do."

"No you don't. It's in my name, paid for out of my money. It's mine. Get out of it."

"Cynthia."

"Get out! Or do I have to call the police."

Stunned, Jacob stares in surprise at his wife. How can she mean this? She's always been so sensible.

"GET OUT!" Cynthia yells.

"Where will I go?"

"I don't care. Just get out. Right now. Go."

"I'll need some things first."

"No. Go to London. You've got everything you need in the flat there."

"Please Cynthia."

"Get out!"

"Can we talk?" Jacob entreats.

"No. You go and think about what you've done and when you're ready to apologise to Patrick call us."

"Cynthia," Jacob pleads.

"Out," she repeats, pointing commandingly to the door. "GET OUT!"

Stunned by his wife's actions Jacob doesn't think of resistance. Slowly he makes his way through to the foyer, stopping at the door to look entreatingly at his wife. She turns her back. Patrick doesn't. He no longer trusts his father if he can't see him. Jacob heaves a sigh and leaves.

The closing door snaps something in Cynthia. She sways as the shock of it all hits her. Patrick catches her before she can faint and helps her to sit. She's a heavy weight but he's strong enough.

"Mum? Are you okay?"

"Yes," she puts up her hand to feel the side of his head. "That thing didn't hurt you did it?"

"No. The only thing that's broken is the ashtray."

"I hated it anyway."

The doorbell rings. Cynthia jumps in surprise. "If that's your father…"

"I'll check first."

His mother standing nervously behind him, Patrick peers through the security eyehole in the door. Relieved that it's not his father and overjoyed to see who it is, he opens the door and gathers Paul into his arms, hugging him tight. Paul hugs back then sees Cynthia. Automatically he drops his arms but, realising that Patrick is trembling, embraces him again.

"It's alright Paul," Cynthia says reassuringly. There's that question answered. Her son has a boyfriend.

"What's happened?" Paul asks.

"I'll tell you later," Patrick replies.

They walk through to the sitting room.

"How soon do we have to be there?" Cynthia asks, sitting in her favourite chair. She sees the smashed ashtray and shivers in horror.

"Not for ages," Patrick replies soothingly.

"Good. I want to get the locks changed before we go." She leafs through her address book, picks up the phone and rings a number.

Paul gives Patrick a curious look. What does Cynthia mean by WE? Patrick takes him into the foyer as Cynthia starts to arrange things with a locksmith. "She threw dad out," he whispers.

"Why?"

"Because we had a row and he ordered me out."

"Shit!"

"You said it." Patrick glances into the sitting room as he hears his mother hang up. "I don't want to leave her alone tonight."

"But the party?"

"Could she come? Your gran and Steven and John's parents will be there for a bit. She could join them."

"I think she's meaning to. I'll ring John and find out."

"Use the phone in the kitchen."

As Paul goes off to make the call Patrick returns to his mother's side. Seeing her state of shock he pours her a stiff brandy. He hands it to her without a word. She looks up in gratitude. As she takes her first sip she remember what Veronica had said at lunch. "Just remember that Patrick is your son and he deserves your love and support all the time, no matter what." Veronica was right, but did it have to happen like this?

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

At 6.30 John pulls up at the Carter house. He waves to Linda who is driving off as he gets out of the car. He walks up the path and rings the doorbell. Sarah answers, dressed up for the night.

"Hello Mrs Carter."

"John." Sarah kisses him on the cheek. "You smell nice."

"It's not too much?"

"No, it's just right. Have you got over last night's ordeal?"

"It was fun."

"Liar," Sarah rebukes him with a grin.

John grins back. "Is Steven ready?"

"Just about. Go on up."

Stopping to say a quick hello to Graham and Mary who are in the sitting room, John runs up the stairs. As he nears the top Sarah calls out. "Steven, John's here. We're going now. See you both later." She signals to her husband and his grandmother and they slip out the door.

Steven throws his arms 'round John and kisses him lovingly.

"Pity we're going out," Steven remarks. "We'd have had the place to ourselves."

John can't resist a smile and hugs Steven again.

"What was that for?"

"'Cause I love you. Are you ready?"

"Just about. What'll we do after?"

"I'm sure we'll find something."

"I can think of a something right now."

"I wonder what they might be?"

"You'll never know now." Steven grabs John's hand and drags him down the stairs. He's looking forward to the evening.