Cartography for Beginners (21 page)

"They were hard times," she said gently.

Neither Nicole nor Amelie spoke for a few minutes, though Nicole looked at him with full, enormous eyes. Amelie looked at her phone, scrolling back and forth between her pictures.

Stuart said, "I don't have a boyfriend or partner. I did once, nine years ago. His name was -- is -- Jamie. James Makepeace." Amelie looked up at that. "You've heard of him?"

"Marc's father has one of his pictures."

Stuart nodded. "He lives in California now. But he's here for the summer to do an exhibition through my gallery, and we'll do another at my gallery in Paris later in the summer."

"And you loved him," Tallis said softly.

"I loved his talent," Stuart said. "Like I loved Joelle's."

"So that's what happened," said Amelie. "All these years she wouldn't tell us, and it was something so simple."

"But the pain," said Nicole, her voice trembling. "Learning that the man you love wants something else, something you can never be." Amelie took her hand and Stuart wondered at what experience led to her voice being so raw. It wasn't hard to guess. "I'm sorry, Stuart, but I cannot blame Mama for not wanting to see you again."

"I don't, either," Stuart said. "I've tried to respect her wishes, Nicole. I wouldn't be here but Tallis was so convincing and my friends thought I would regret it if I didn't."

"I hope that you don't regret that you did," said Amelie.

He smiled at her. "Not one bit."

The mobile in his inner jacket pocket vibrated. He said, "Excuse me," and took it out to check the number -- anything less than an emergency could wait. It was a California area code -- Leo's number. "I have to take this," he told the girls and got up from the table to do so. "Stuart Huntsman," he said when he clicked it on. He heard an intake of breath. "Leo?"

"Stuart," Leo said. "Come get me."

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. Please come get me."

"Where are you? Are you still at that pub?"

"No, no, I'm -- I don't see a street sign anywhere--"

"Use your GPS," Stuart said, and at the table the girls had fallen silent, all three looking at him with concern.

"Yes, yes, of course. I'd forgotten about that. I'm--" He heard fumbling and clicking, and then Leo read off an address in Soho.

"Stay right where you are," Stuart said. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Thank you," Leo said.

"Not at all," said Stuart and hung up. He looked at the girls with a sigh. "My friend seems to have got himself into a predicament, and he doesn't know the city at all--"

"It's all right," said Tallis. "Go take care of your friend."

Stuart hesitated, and then kissed all three of them quickly on the cheek. "We must get together again before you go home," he said, and then hurried to his car to rescue Leo.

***

Leo was deep in thought as he walked away from Stuart's house to the Tube station a few streets away. He'd rather be with Stuart tonight than having a drink with a stranger -- he wanted to meet Stuart's daughters and future daughter-in-law -- but that would give an impression Stuart didn't want to give.

It was frustrating. Stuart kissed like a wildfire but he was so easily spooked, like actually feeling was more than he could handle. Leo knew Stuart felt something more than lust, but Stuart hadn't realized it yet -- or if he had, refused to acknowledge it.

Perhaps it was for the best, though. If Stuart wasn't ready for more than a toy at this point of his life, he probably never would be.

"Leo!" Jamie called from behind him, and Leo stopped and waited for him to catch up. "I've been calling you."

"Sorry," Leo said. "Thinking." They fell into step, and Leo added, "I know the way."

"I'll walk you to the station anyway. I could use the exercise."

Leo eyed Jamie's slim form. "You sure do." They walked, and he said, "You surprised Ben with that announcement."

"It wasn't an announcement. It was a decision. You knew I was thinking about it."

"Yes, I did. And I'm glad you're taking him with you."

He glanced at Leo. "I realized you're right. Sneaking off for the weekend wouldn't have gone over well. Ben's is not happy to be here, but maybe this will help."

"Ben supports your career, Jamie."

"I know," Jamie said. "Ben loves and adores me. Worships me, practically. But that makes him protective, and when he gets protective he often turns into an enormous arse, and to be frank I've not enough energy to deal with it right now."

"And he thinks he's got a lot to protect you from right now," said Leo. "I see."

"From Stuart, from my parents, from my past -- from fame, too, I think. All the dark sides of it."

"And yet he appears regularly on TV."

Jamie shrugged. "Only foodies know who he is. He's not Emeril Lagasse yet and I don't know that he wants to be. Me, I've no interest in being household name -- mainstreaming means safety, and I'd rather be who I am."

"You're doing fine following that path so far."

Jamie smiled crookedly at Leo. "Thanks. Here's your station."

"You didn't need to walk me, but thank you anyway."

"I worry. And you're welcome."

Leo said, not descending the steps to the station yet, "You know what my favorite thing is about England?"

"What?"

"That all the exit signs say Way Out. It's not a cold exit sign, telling us to get on our way. It's being set free."

Jamie laughed, throwing back his head. "I love you, Leo. Tell Rupert if he treats you badly I'll have words with him."

"I believe you would, too. Little scrapper."

"G'on wi' you," said Jamie, his Mancunian accent exaggeratedly thick, and Leo held his shoulder and kissed his forehead before going down the stairs to the station.

There were many couples on the train, holding hands, talking quietly, even kissing each other sometimes. Leo looked away, wistful. He remembered being that in love -- it hadn't been that long ago when all it took was the sight of Adam to make his heart skip a beat. He envied these people, young and old, who were so lost in each other that their love surrounded them like protective bubbles.

When he arrived at the pub, Leo wondered if he should call the boys and let them know he hadn't gotten lost and was even on time, and then he saw Rupert at the bar. He must have been a wonder at sixteen, when Jamie had loved him, golden and full-lipped and smooth. He was a handsome man, more handsome than Adam had been at this age, even, and to Leo in the first flush of new love Adam had been the most beautiful man he'd ever seen.

Rupert was watching the door for him, and his face broke into an enormous smile when he saw Leo. He waved, and Leo made his way through the crowded pub to his side. "We'll get a table," Rupert bent close to say in his ear, and then signaled the bartender. "You want a lager?"

"Sure. I don't know brands or anything."

"The pub's own brew is good." The bartender nodded and pulled two glasses, which Rupert carried to a table away from the bar, where the noise was a bit less and the crowd a bit thinner. They were beside a window, which was paned with thick-leaded glass. The wood everywhere was polished, dark from centuries of smoke. There was a picture of the Queen in a place of honor behind the bar itself, and at another end of the pub a group of men played pool, while nearby a few others threw darts. Most of the customers were at the bar or at tables with their drinks and friends.

"How old is this place?" Leo said and had his first taste of the lager. It was excellent, crisp, lighter than he expected.

"I don't know," Rupert said, looking around. "Twenty years, maybe? The building has an aged feel -- it's likely older than that."

"I love that about England, how settled everything is."

"So you like it here?"

"Oh, I do. I do. It's not like coming home but it feels so…" Leo paused and drank. "Like it's been waiting for me to rediscover it. I'm sure a lot of tourists feel that way," he added, and Rupert smiled as he had a pull.

"The first time I came here, fresh out of university, I felt like I'd walked into a Dickens novel. Now everything was going to happen to me."

"Everything?" said Leo.

"Everything that makes up a life. You know. Good job, nice flat, true love." He paused for another taste. "Got two out of three."

"Jamie said you and he were friends when you were children."

"Yeah, from primary school on. He was always an odd bloke. We should have known he'd never stay in Manchester."

"Did you always know he was going to be an artist?"

Rupert drank and shrugged. "He'd draw on everything. Give him a pencil and he'd turn anything into a canvas, including my bedroom wall. My mum hated that but no matter how his mum punished him he'd still draw on it. Pictures of him and me, mostly."

"You didn't mind?"

"Of course not. I loved watching him draw. I still would." He leaned his chin on his hands. "But I can catch up with Jamie later. I'm more interested in your story. You're the mystery."

"Oh, there's nothing mysterious about me," Leo murmured and took a gulp of his lager.

"You are to me," said Rupert. "Tell me about you. Tell me -- tell me about your partner. Does he not like to travel?"

"He's -- I don't have one. I'm newly single."

Rupert's smile disappeared. "I'm sorry. Did he pass?"

"No," Leo said. "He… we decided we were done."

"I see," Rupert said, concern in his eyes. "Were you together long?"

"A lifetime," Leo murmured. "Dunie's lifetime. My son. You met him -- the tall, dark-haired one."

"I remember. He looks like you."

Leo blinked, surprised. "Most people say he looks like his mother."

"I haven't met his mother, have I?" Rupert said calmly. "I think he looks like you. Very dignified, very handsome." He reached over the table and combed his fingers through Leo's hair.

Leo drained his glass and put it down. "The beer is fantastic."

Rupert removed his hand and sipped his drink. "I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable."

"I know. You're very sweet."

"Sweet," Rupert murmured, amused, and shook his head as he took another sip.

"I'm old enough to be your father."

"But you're not my father."

Leo raised his glass, but it was empty. He set it down again, and his hand tensed when Rupert covered it with his own.

"Do you want to go somewhere? We could go dancing or get something to eat. Or walk around and look at things. Leicester Square isn't far. There's always a lot to see there."

"Let's get something to eat." Leo pulled his hand from Rupert's. "I don't know about dancing. I'm not very good at it."

"I bet you're better than you think," Rupert said and got up from the table.

***

Leo relaxed over dinner, enough that when again Rupert suggested they go to a club, Leo accepted. The place Rupert chose was a lot like the clubs at home -- loud, decorated mostly with neon, crowded with men who were younger than Leo.

Rupert took Leo out to the center of the dance floor. "I meant it when I said I'm not very good at this," Leo shouted into his ear.

Rupert laughed and put his arms around Leo. "We'll go slowly, then," he said and left his arms around Leo's neck, his body moving slowly despite the fast rhythm of the music.

"Slow," Leo agreed and let their foreheads rest together as they moved, let his hands rest on the small of Rupert's back. It felt good to be held by someone who wanted to hold him again -- sure, the boys would dance with him, but it was out of friendship. And Stuart -- hell, Stuart couldn't make up his mind from one day to the next about what he wanted from Leo.

But he is a good dancer,
Leo thought with a sigh, and drew the young man in his arms closer, wishing his warm, strong body would blot out all memory of Stuart's solid, comfortable form.

They had danced two or three songs like this, slow and close, when Rupert whispered, "Leo," and kissed him. His lips were soft and warm, and nudged against Leo's to encourage them to part. Leo's hands tensed against Rupert's back and he thought,
Relax, it's just this lovely boy,
but there was no way he could trick or convince his body that he was kissing anyone but a stranger.

Rupert pulled back and frowned at him. "Am I that bad?"

"You're fine." Leo looked out at the other dancers. No one was paying them any attention, too absorbed in their own affairs, dancing, laughing and kissing. "It's not that."

"Then what is it?" Rupert brushed his fingers over Leo's hair. Leo closed his eyes. He'd wanted this, hadn't he? To kiss someone other than on the forehead, to kiss someone like this, someone earthy-smelling and handsome, with bright eyes and lovely hands…

"I'm sorry." He stepped out of Rupert's arms, feeling ridiculous and ashamed and wrong, just
wrong
. "I'm not ready for this."

"Leo," Rupert said, "come back, Leo, talk to me," but Leo only made his way through the crowd again, out to the square. He made his way to the street until he found a bus stop, and sat down -- and then leaned down so he could put his head between his knees and concentrated on breathing to stave off the rising feeling of wrongness that was heavy and sour in his stomach.

He didn't want a new mouth to kiss or a new body to touch. He wanted the familiar, he wanted his love. He wanted Adam. Damn it all. Kissing Stuart or David was easy because they were friends, but this was different. There was nothing familiar about Rupert. And he was too young, too much like one of Dune's friends. It was practically robbing the cradle. Young men half his age, God, what was he
thinking
? Everything about this plan was wrong, and he'd known it from the beginning but ignored the feeling in his gut because he was so tired of being lonely and frustrated by Stuart's indecision -- and he had to stop making excuses.

The best thing to do was go back to Stuart's, tell the boys he'd decided to call it an early night, and fend off any more attempts to fix him up.

"All right, mate?" said someone on the sidewalk next to him, cigarette smoke trailing from his fingers, and Leo said, "Yes, fine, thank you," and turned resolutely in the direction of the Tube station. His cell rang in his jacket but he ignored it, not wanting to cope with anyone else just now. Finding his bearings was difficult enough in the dark.