Meetings and conferences outside London sometimes took Dale away for a night or two. In mid-April his manager sent him up to Birmingham for three days on a training course about new employment contracts. The intention was that, when he returned, he should talk to groups of staff about new pay scales and terms of employment. A bit envious of these expenses-paid trips, I asked, ‘And which plush hotel will you patronize this time?’
He smiled. ‘If you feel like taking my place on this one, you’re welcome. Pay scales and terms of employment are a grind. Expect half the group will nod off in the afternoons.’
He got up early to catch his train to Birmingham, and left me a note saying he had put a new game scenario on the computer for me. At home after work that evening, the first thing I did was to look at it. The game opened with my hunky Latino avatar, dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt with my name on it, walking on a sunny hillside holding a bunch of pink helium balloons. I clicked on the balloons to see if they would burst, but instead the funnel of a whirlwind appeared on the horizon, sped towards ‘me’ and whisked ‘me’ up into the air, trapping me in its spiral of dust and debris. Clicking on the balloons now made them explode one by one, but although the on-screen me would slip down towards the ground a little way as each one burst, a pair of eyes would appear at the top of the funnel and glance downwards, while the whirlwind spiralled round ever faster and drew me upwards again.
I was carried over some houses, spun dangerously around a church steeple, then whisked off to a field of rugby pitches where several matches were in progress. Seeing my avatar carried aloft from pitch to pitch, I clicked on the steeple, then on the rugby posts, but the on-screen me remained trapped, meandering round the sky. Then I clicked on a rugby scrum several times; it shoved itself a little in one direction, then back again. Then I clicked on the bottom of the whirlwind, and it came to a stop directly above the centre of the scrum. A ferocious cry came from the many-legged heaving mass. Hearing this, the funnel developed facial features, two eyes, eyebrows, a nose and a mouth – a face which contorted into a scream. The wind dropped me into the middle of the scrum, somersaulted and shot off back over the horizon. A series of lecherous grunts came from the players in whose midst my avatar had disappeared, as they threw my clothes up into the air.
Surely Dale was not going to leave me there being mauled by that lusty gang? The on-screen me, hidden by the heaving mass of muscle, was presumably struggling to get free, and frantically I clicked again and again at the spaces between the players’ legs in the hope my avatar would come crawling through. Each click produced a cry for help.
The scene shifted to the woods at the end of the field, where Dale’s avatar was sawing up a felled tree. Hearing my shouts, he cupped his hand to his ear, located their direction, and sped over to the scrum. He grabbed the players, one at a time, by the scruff of the neck and the back of the shorts and threw them across the pitch, quite an achievement since most of them were big powerful guys. The second rugger player to be hurled off landed on top of the first, and they began to caress and kiss one another, and so on until the whole lot had been paired off and were coupling all over the field.
Having rescued me, Dale helped me to my feet. I had retained my underpants, so obviously those ruffians had not despoiled me. We retrieved the rest of my clothes from the ground, and he led me into the woods, where we stopped by the felled tree. When I clicked on it he gestured to me to sit down. There was a red scratch on my forehead, which he patted tenderly, and then made instantaneously better with a kiss. One kiss led to another, and very soon we were, like the rugby players, in each others arms, only much more considerate and loving.
This was a delightful scenario, so I rang him to thank him, but he was too tired after a long day to talk for long. His inventive and well-wrought scenario would be difficult for me to match, and I did not want to be diverted for too long from Quick’s book, but I resolved to to work up one for him before he returned.
‘There were plenty in earlier, including a few of the Gay Symphony Orchestra. They have a new violinist, he’s really nice. Wouldn’t mind a chance of vibrating with him some time. You on your own?’
‘He’s away. Work… a course in Birmingham.’
Smiles leaned forward and said confidentially, ‘Sorry to have to tell you, but over there, in the far corner, sitting on his own, is someone you used to know. He’s been in asking about you a couple of times. I tried to put him off by saying you hadn’t been in much lately.’
In the mirror at the back of the bar I saw Toby’s reflection. ‘Oh god.’
‘Well, you used to like him.’
‘“Used to,” you’re right there. Not any more.’
‘Well, not my business. Actually, there is something I wanted to ask you about, an idea I’ve had for the bar. You remember how those school disco nights used to pull in the crowds at that straight club in Hammersmith? Hundreds used to turn up, all wearing school uniform. You must have seen them.’
‘Yes, there was a real craze for dressing up as school kids, and not only at Hammersmith. Pubs all over the place were having school disco nights.’
‘Well, you know a while ago the owners of this place were talking about opening a new late night venue? They decided it was too risky. Now they want me to try some theme nights here, to bring more people in. I was thinking of a school disco night. Guys in sexy school uniforms, what do you think?’
‘Generally the girls were better dressed, I thought the blokes were really scruffy. Still, could be worth giving it a try.’
‘Would you dress up for it?’
‘You couldn’t make it a rugby kit night, could you?’
‘Rugby kit… that’s your thing at the moment, is it? Striped jerseys and tight little shorts? You and Dale are a bit skinny, but a few of the regulars in here might give you a tackle. I’ll stick with the school discos for now though. We need more than one or two guys to dress up for it to be any good, which is why I’m asking you. Need to advertise a bit, here and there. What do you think?’
‘Yes. I’m sure I could pick up some short trousers in a charity shop or somewhere, and I could borrow blazers from Jeremy.’
‘There’d be a prize for best uniform, probably a bottle of wine.’
We were interrupted by Toby, who meandered up to the bar and stood beside me. ‘Hi Ben, how are things?’
‘Okay.’
Smiles said, ‘We were just talking about trying a school disco night. Do you think it would bring people in?’
Toby smiled his easy, anything-goes smile and nodded. ‘If you get any naughty boys in, I’ll bend ’em over and give ’em a walloping.’
‘That’s not quite what I had in mind.’
‘You sure?’ Toby asked. The bar’s phone rang and Smiles went to answer it. ‘So,’ Toby said to me, ‘you’re doing okay?’
I wanted to be rid of him, and responded with an offhand, ‘I’m all right thanks.’
‘The other night Smiles was saying you’ve become a big fan of The Rocking Boulders.’
Smiles would have to pass on to Toby, of all people, what I’d so stupidly blabbed to him. ‘I like their stuff. I’ve read a few things about them lately. It’s nothing much.’ When we were boyfriends Toby had no interest in rock and roll. Why was he so keen to hear about the Boulders now?
‘Your mate behind the bar said you know a friend of theirs.’
‘Well… oh… it was some gossip I’d picked up. Second or third-hand stuff.’
‘You’ve got me interested.’
‘Why? Are you hoping to get a job as a roadie?’
‘Very funny. Same old you. You always were one for a laugh, weren’t you?’ He was not, though, going to give up easily. ‘Seriously, I am interested. I heard they joined some funny sect, like the Prophecies of Arun or something? Maybe we could help each other. Me and Jayde are sharing the upstairs flat now that she and Jake have split. He’s downstairs where you used to be. He’s changed, the wanker says he wants to get a job, and he’s decided he’s gay. Tell us about this Egyptian thing The Rocking Boulders were into, and maybe I can get Jayde to be a bit more reasonable about this kid she’s having, stop her saying it was all your fault.’
I had not told Smiles much about the Boulders, but clearly it was enough to have impressed Toby. What was he after?
I said, ‘That’s the deal is it? If I help you, the pair of you will make less trouble for me than you might otherwise? What about your part in all this? That night, when Jayde says I made her pregnant, I went to that club with you, expecting to go back home with you. If anyone is to blame it’s you. In fact, you told me you were bisexual. Now you’re living with her. Maybe you’re the father, not me.’
‘Now let’s not get into a big scene here. I’ve come along to have a sensible chat, see if we can help each other. Understand what I’m saying? Jayde wants to have this kid, she doesn’t want to get rid of it, that’s the truth. She thinks you’re its dad. If you help me, tell me about this prophecies thing and The Rocking Boulders, maybe I can persuade her to back off from pointing the finger at you.’
He must have thought she had worried me enough for this bit of blackmail to work. What did he want from me? To help him get in with the band’s crowd so he could sell them some pills or some coke? If that was in his mind, he would probably believe almost anything I said. ‘Well, since you’re so interested, I did hear that in the nineteen-sixties they were interested in a sect that was all to do with Egyptian mummies, pyramids, Cleopatra, and all that kind of stuff.’
He listened intently. ‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘the bands back then all went in for religious shit, didn’t they? It was a big thing with the Beatles and the other rock bands. So what happened about this sect? Are they still going?’
‘I don’t really know.’ I hesitated.
‘Come on, Ben. You can tell me. Were The Rocking Boulders, you know, into weird kinky religious ceremonies?’
I’ve never been good at lying, so I told him things that were nothing to do with the sect: that the Egyptian hieroglyphic symbol for life, the ankh, was like a cross but with a loop at the top; that when the ancient scribes wrote the names of the pharaohs they drew a line around the symbols called a cartouche; and that as well as the mummies of people that everyone knows about, mummies of cats had also been unearthed. He listened closely, but after ten or fifteen minutes my knowledge of ancient Egypt was running out. He still wanted more, so I risked an outlandish lie. If he caught me out, I could claim to have meant it as a joke. I said that most ancient cultures used to mummify their dead, and that the Australian Aborigines used to mummify budgerigars.
‘Did they? Did they have budgies in Australia then? So when they made mummies out of animals, were they, like, hoping people would be able to have their pets with them after they died?’
Since he was so gullible, I grew bolder. ‘No one really knows. You have to remember they built these enormous tombs, so they had to have lots and lots of things to put in them.’
‘The Aborigines had tombs as well, did they?’
‘Yes, but budgerigars may have been chosen because they’re small. Or maybe the early Australians thought they were intelligent, because they could teach them to talk.’
He appeared to be finding this last fib a bit hard to believe, so I changed the subject. ‘Tell me, how did Jake take the news that his girlfriend was pregnant by someone else?’
‘Oh, yeah, Jake. Well, he packed her in. You can’t blame him. He knows it’s not his. Funny him being gay, well, bisexual. Never owned up to it till now. Tell you what, since Dale’s not here, how about we go somewhere quieter where you could tell me all about The Rocking Boulders? And, well, I haven’t forgotten, you know, how things used to be with you and me.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘We had some good times together, before … you know.’
‘I’m spoken for.’
‘You sure? There are things that go together, bread and butter, salt and pepper. You and Dale are like salt and salt.’
Smiles had come back to our end of the bar and was pouring out a drink. ‘“Salt?”’ I said. ‘Doesn’t sound like us. We’re well matched, like vodka and tonic.’
Toby asked Smiles. ‘Here, what was that Rocking Boulders sect you told me about the other day, the something of Arun, was it?’
‘Oracles of Aten,’ Smiles answered, to my annoyance remembering their name exactly. He nodded, in my direction and added, ‘He’ll tell you. He’s read a book about them.’
Telling Toby all that rubbish about ancient Egypt and Aborigines might have been fun, but why had I not simply told him to f*** off ? To change the subject I asked Smiles when the first school disco night was likely to be.
‘In a couple of weeks, probably the Thursday. So, what do you say, can I count on you and Dale? I’ll wear school uniform, so that would be three of us. I need at least a dozen, preferably more, to make it a success.’
‘Yes, we’ll get some school togs and show up.’
Somebody else I knew came up to the bar, and we recruited him for the school disco night. Toby hung around for a while, but we ignored him. He soon gave up his hopes of getting anything more out of me and left. I was pleased with my tale of mummified budgies, even if he might not have quite believed it.
At home again, too awake to go straight to bed, I started on a new game scenario for Dale. One anywhere near as good as the rugby game he had left for me would take hours, but I could set up the main features, leaving refinements to the layout and appearance to another time. Among the sports available was cycling, and I created three new avatars dressed in grey Lycra shorts and tops with swirls of blue and orange, who were to join Dale and me in a team. Our opponents had black shorts and yellow jerseys emblazoned with names like Nasty and Stinker.
I put in a naughty little feature that had them pull down their shorts if Dale clicked on their waistlines, giving a brief glimpse of white undies. Clicking on a bike anywhere near the pedals would make a rider mount. He would cycle to the starting line, where a marshal stood with a gun pointing upwards. When all the riders were present, clicking on the gun fired it and the race began, while half a dozen pigeons fell to the ground from the overhanging branches of a tree.
Left to themselves the two teams would continue racing along the lane indefinitely, one rider taking the lead for a minute or so and then falling back, the way cyclists do when racing in teams. The way to move on to the next stage was to drag and drop a sign with an arrow and the words This Way, leaving it in front of a side turning called Lover’s Lane. Here half a dozen parked cars rocked gently to the rhythm of unseen sexual activity within. As a cyclist approached, a car door would open, an arm reach out, grab him, and haul him off his bike into the vehicle. Clicking on a fallen bike made its rider emerge once more, pull up his shorts from around his ankles, remount and resume racing down the lane.
When all the cyclists were back in the saddle, they came to a sign saying Men’s Nude Bathing. Ahead of them was a lake where a gang of about a dozen hard men were swimming. When they saw the cyclists, they emerged naked, blocked the road, grabbed the riders as they tried to pass, and dragged them into the water. This time, clicking on the bikes did not help, and the nude swimmers, holding their victims around the neck, took them to an island where they tied them to trees. My avatar poked his attacker in the eye with his bike pump and escaped. Clicking on the pump made my on-screen self draw water into it, and squirt any nude bathers who came near him in the eyes. After a couple of high pressure blasts they would run off. The on-screen me then set off to release Dale, who was tied upside down to a tree.
To defeat all the nude bathers, we had to release all the other cyclists and use the pumps as clubs and water guns. Then a rope ladder came down from the branch of a tree. Using ‘drag and drop’ Dale and I could be moved up into the tree house in the oak’s branches, where we lay together on enormous cushions and made love. Well after midnight, I turned off the computer and went to bed.
On the day he returned from Birmingham, Dale arrived home before me. He was preparing dinner when I got in. Over the meal I told him about meeting Toby at the Give and Take, and said that my new scenario in the computer game would soon be ready for him. He was less talkative than usual, and would say hardly anything about his training course. Puzzled, I asked, ‘Is there something wrong?’
‘No, bit tired, these things can be draining.’Maybe they could, but surely not to the point that they robbed him of speech. Did he think I had gone to the Give and Take to pick someone up?
I said, ‘It’s good to have you back. I did go out to the bar, but only stayed long enough for one drink. Anyway, when sodding Toby turned up that really put me off. Are you sure you’re okay?’
‘Yes, it’s… I’d better tell you. Something happened on my last night in Birmingham. My head tells me it would be better to say nothing, but keeping quiet about it makes me feel guilty. This is really difficult. There was someone on the course who fancied me.’
I knew what was coming next. ‘You went with him,’ I said.
He nodded. ‘I got chatting to these people from Leeds, a straight couple and this bloke on his own. They asked me to go for a meal, we had a certain amount to drink, and afterwards the guy who was on his own invited me into his room for a beer. I wasn’t even thinking whether or not he might be gay. I could have said no, but I didn’t want to be unfriendly. He started showing me some photographs of himself and some friends in a gay club in Leeds. Well, we fumbled around a bit, just hands, a bit of mutual you know what, nothing more. I should have said no thanks, there’s someone waiting for me at home. I feel awful about it now. I’m sorry.’
So all it took was a trip away from home, a few drinks over a meal, and decent, honest, steady Dale was ready for a bit of fun with a stranger. I was jealous, but to show it would make things worse. In his place, in the same situation, what would I have done? Holding back my emotions I said, ‘We’ve both been around. You don’t have to apologize. When we go to the Give and Take we see men we fancy. It was going to happen, some time or other.’
‘You say that, but you’re really thinking that if you could go to the Give and Take and come back on your own, why couldn’t I keep my hands to myself in Birmingham? When we talked about us being, well, together, a couple, we said we would tell everyone else we were spoken for. I let you down. I want to make it up to you, but I’m not sure how to.’
‘Being away on a trip, things are always more likely to happen, aren’t they? It’s not like going down to a local bar. I’d better clear away.’ My words were moderate, but I was also thinking you bastard, screwing around as if I meant zero to you. Why did he have to tell me about it? I would probably never have guessed. I collected up the dishes without looking at him. In the kitchen I asked myself how he, the one who was supposed to be sensible and reliable, could have had casual sex with some guy from Leeds on a poxy course in Birmingham? How could he cheat on me while I was devising a scenario on the computer game, rescuing him from that rapacious gang of nude swimmers?
Or had he cheated, really? We had talked of ‘being spoken for’, but was that the same as promising to be faithful? There were plenty of gay men who considered themselves to be in ‘open’ relationships who probably counted their casual pick-ups in thousands. Maybe Alicia’s girlfriend was right about men, we were promiscuous by nature, users of pornography, clients of escorts, masseurs, and prostitutes, not capable of sustaining deep relationships. What was there for me to be surprised at? One-off sex with strangers was pretty standard behaviour on the gay scene. Being otherwise made me the oddity.
For the first time I was sorry when the last pot had been stowed away in its cupboard. I could hear the sound of the television in the lounge, but could not bear to sit down with him and pretend nothing had happened. I stepped into the room and said, ‘I think I’ll go through some of the stuff about Rick Schwagger again, in the spare room.’
He stood up and faced me. ‘Give me a chance, please.’
‘At this moment, I just want to do something on my own for a while.’
Miserable, he turned away and said, ‘Okay, of course. I’ll just watch TV for a half an hour or so and then turn in.’
In the spare room, which had been my room when we first shared the flat, I made some notes for the ‘auto’biography. After a while I heard him go into the bathroom, then to ‘our’ bedroom. I carried on working for about half an hour until I began to feel tired. The spare bed was always made up, and I thought about spending the night there, not so much from a desire to punish him, but because even the thought of climbing into bed with him made me feel wretched.
Many of my personal things were still in the spare room. Among them was a book I had kept since I was a kid, The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám, a poem I had read in the past when times were tough. Some verses that I more or less knew by heart were about coming to terms with unhappiness in life, for instance:
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit, Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.
The third verse from last was surely written by someone who themselves had endured heartbreaking experiences:Ah Love! could thou and I with Fate conspire, To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire, Would not we shatter it to bits – and then Re-mould it nearer to the Heart’s Desire!
Of course, Dale casually playing around with someone else had made me sad. Of course it hurt. He meant so much to me. At that very moment, though, was he lying in ‘our’ bed, feeling abandoned, wondering if I would ever go back in with him? I put the book down, and quietly walked through the darkness into our shared bedroom. The mound he made in the covers on his side of the bed, barely visible in the gloom, confirmed he was there. I undressed. Only after I had slipped in beside him did he tentatively move his hand across until it touched mine. I turned and reached out towards him. We held each other closely and clung to each other, remaining completely still, until we fell asleep.