Fireside Romance Book 1: First Flames (4 page)

Of course the Scrooges at the Council had refused to find any money for decorations, so Mary and I put up some sprigs of artificial holly in Non-fiction. Mary’s mother had donated some coloured paper streamers to add to the effect.

Mary and I stayed late one night to put up the streamers in our section. Mary had a better head for heights than I, so she agreed to ascend the stepladder, though I was told under pain of death not to let go of it.

“And don’t you be looking up my skirt, Simon,” she said from the top of the stepladder.

“Aw, go on, just a quick peek,” I whined. “You’re no fun anymore.”

She laughed. “Don’t start, you’ll have me off this thing.”

Mary and I had grown even closer. We’d agreed to go out every Friday night. Sometimes we’d have dinner at a pub, other times we’d watch a movie at the town’s single screen cinema. Once we even went bowling, but I was totally hopeless at it, so we agreed—much to my relief—not to do that again.

Of course we kept up our usual friendly banter, laughing out loud frequently. People would look round at us to see what was funny and not unsurprisingly, this caused us to laugh even more. We played our usual game of man watching, Mary giving me a poke in the ribs if a bloke looked our way.

“See him, Simon, the one in the red sweater? No, don’t be so obvious about it. He’s looking this way. Perhaps this’ll be your chance.”

“No, he’s probably envious of me for being with you.” I replied, giving the man a quick glance. He certainly looked strong and broad and…

“Do you think so?” Mary touched her wavy auburn hair.

“Why not? If I liked women, I’d be jealous of anyone being with you.”

“Daft sod.” She punched me in the arm.

“It isn’t daft at all. You’re a lovely lady, and the man who manages to club you over the head and drag you back to his cave will be a very lucky guy.”

“I’m not sure I want to live in a cave.” She frowned. “Not one without central heating anyway.”

“Now who’s being daft?” I chuckled. “He just better treat you right, otherwise he’ll have me to answer to.” I said, flexing my puny arm and chest muscles. This caused another bout of laughter.

* * * *

The many sessions of man watching did eventually pay off. He had wide shoulders, black hair, really deep green eyes, and a smile so warm it could melt an iceberg at a hundred paces. Yes, the man watching paid off big time…for Mary.

We’d gone to the cinema on one of our regular Friday nights out. As we exited, we decided to grab a bite to eat. Although I don’t much go for fast food, the Golden Arches were nearby, we were both in need of immediate hunger relief, so we got ourselves burgers and fries and sat at a table in the middle of the restaurant. Our conversation about the film was intermittent. It was getting late and I was wilting visibly. I wasn’t much of a fan of late nights. I’d just as soon be tucked up in bed with Humphrey, my teddy bear.

I asked Mary a question, but didn’t get a reply. I looked up at her from the half eaten remains of my burger to see her gazing over my left shoulder. I turned round, not so easy in the fixed seat, to see a vision of male gorgeousness in an equal state of rapture, looking at Mary. I turned back to her, she was still frozen in place. I waved my hand in front of her face. She only partially came out of her trance, and looked at me.

“He’s hot!”

“Yeah, I agree, and from the looks of him, he thinks the same about you. Why don’t you go over there and talk to him?”

“I’m out with you.” She said this with not much conviction.

“Don’t be daft. Go over.”

I never thought I’d see anyone float, not without the benefit of water that is, but Mary pretty damn well floated out of her seat and towards this vision of male perfection. I saw her take a seat next to him. His eyes followed her every movement, and when she got close enough he stood to allow her access into the booth. I wasn’t close enough to hear what they were saying.

After convincing myself she was having a good time, I returned to my burger. I resisted the temptation to turn around and look at them, or should I say him? I dragged out eating the rest of the plastic meal for as long as I could, but the pressure on my bladder, and an ever-increasing need to get home to my bed, finally convinced me to get moving.

Before leaving, I approached their booth. “Mary, I’ll be off now, I’ll see you at work on Monday, okay?”

The vision spoke. “Oh, sorry, mate.” Wow, what a deep warm voice. “I didn’t mean to take your friend away from you.”

“No problem.” I waved away his apology. “Are you going to get the bus back, Mary?”

“Erm, yeah…erm Simon, I’ll see you on Monday.” She was obviously totally enraptured by him.

I couldn’t blame her. I just gave a brief wave as I left. It was doubtful she even noticed.

After using the gents, I made my way out onto the street. Although it was December, it wasn’t very cold. The wind, which had been pretty wild earlier, had dropped, so I decided to walk the fifteen minutes or so home.

* * * *

Monday morning I unlocked and then relocked the door to Non-Fiction after me. We had half an hour before letting in the public. The children’s section opened at half past eight to allow the little darlings to change their books on the way to school.

Spotting Mary, I put my hand over my mouth, let out a high-pitched squeak, fell against the wall and said “My god, I’m in shock.”

“Daft bugger,” she replied. “I’ve been early before, you know.”

“I can’t remember the last time.” And to be honest I couldn’t. “Whatever could have caused this hitherto unforeseen event in the space-time continuum?” I’d just finished reading a science-fiction novel.

I was expecting a ‘daft sod’ or an eye roll. But instead I got a smile. I don’t think I’d ever seen Mary smile so widely before. “He’s called Jerry.”

I didn’t need to ask, but I thought I’d play dumb anyway. “Who is, the new milkman?”

“No, silly, the man we met at McDonald’s.”

“Oh!” I couldn’t really find anything else to say.

Not surprisingly, Mary didn’t have the same problem. The rest of the day—readers permitting—I got the full history of this god in human form. Apparently he was a post-graduate history student at York University. He lived in a flat with two other students close to campus during the week, and came home to visit his parents most weekends.

When Mary finally wound down, I asked, “So, he’s the one then?”

The smile went up a few watts, and she nodded. Then her face fell a little.

“What? Is he married or something?”

“No, no, nothing like that.” She shook her head. “Because he’s away all week, I can only get to see him at weekends.”

I was ahead of her. I’d worked it out earlier when she told me what his living arrangements were. “It’s okay. You need to be with him as much as you can, I understand. We’ll put our Friday nights on hold for a bit.” If the relationship was going where she hoped it was, we wouldn’t be having any more Friday nights out for a long time, if at all.

“You don’t mind?”

“Silly girl, of course I don’t mind.” I did, but I’d rather die than have her know this.

Mary was my only social contact—save for my occasional meetings with Mark—but she had as much right to happiness as anyone else. I’d really enjoyed getting out and about with someone for a change, but
…
putting my own feelings aside I could see Mary liked this guy a lot, and she needed time with him.

“You’re such a sweetie,” she said, kissing me on the cheek.

“Just don’t forget to invite me to the wedding, you hear?”

“I won’t.”

I was half expecting her to make a joke of my last comment. The fact she didn’t probably meant she was serious about Jerry. Most of me hoped it would work out for them.

Anyway, as I said earlier, the town was gearing up for Christmas. I’d bought the few presents I needed to. I posted off the ones to my parents in Birmingham. They’d moved down there a few years ago because Dad got a promotion, and after I’d finished university in Leeds I applied for and got the job at the library, so I stayed in the home town.

I had muddled along since my second meeting with Mark. I would take a walk down to Gamble Street once every couple of weeks or so. Usually he was there. If he wasn’t, I’d carry on home and try again the next day.

Our times together—I wanted to call them dates, but was strangely reluctant to do so—followed the same path each time. I’d feed him, we’d touch and kiss for a bit, then we’d go into the living room and cuddle for a while on the couch. When the time came for him to leave, he would offer to stay later. I would tell him I really wanted him to stay, yet knew he had to get going, and he would thank me for being so understanding.

During our times together Mark had begun opening up to me. He told me a little about his family background. It seemed his father was a brute. Things had been tolerable while his mother was living, but when she’d died of breast cancer, his father had hit the bottle…hard.

Up until this point I hadn’t even been sure if Mark was gay. I realised he wasn’t selling himself by choice, but some men have so few options that, despite being straight, they had to sell their bodies for sex in order to survive.

I suspected Mark hadn’t told me the whole story about his family situation. It had been enough to start the waterworks in both of us though. I clung on so tight to him that evening, offering him what little comfort I could.

Another time he told me something about how he got into the business of selling himself. It wasn’t a pretty story. He did say he was able to crash at—for want of a better word—his pimp’s house. I grew so angry at the news of how Jake, the pimp, took half Mark’s money in exchange for keeping Mark
safe
on the streets.

“Couldn’t you just give him a bit less, and keep more for yourself?” I’d asked.

“No; John, another of Jake’s boys, tried that. He was in hospital for over a month…”

I really wanted to get Mark out of his situation. I offered to help him. But it seemed as though Jake had a pretty tight rein on things, and I, too, could end up being hurt. I didn’t see what I could do: I’m not—to my shame—very brave.

 Chapter 4

It was the week before Christmas. I’d been walking along Gamble Street for the past three days, with no sign of Mark. I had mixed emotions about this. The weather was really cold now, so I was glad he wasn’t out in the harsh weather so much, but I was missing him. I had grown very fond of him; I could quite easily be falling in love with him. Of course I couldn’t tell him this. It was unlikely he’d feel the same way about me, and if he rejected me, even though he’d probably do it as gently as it could be done, I’d be devastated. I’m not very good at handling rejection.

By the fourth day of not seeing Mark I was beginning to get worried. Knowing I needed some answers, I timidly approached one of the other boys I’d seen on the corner near Mark before. “Um, have you seen Mark? I’ve walked down here for the past few days, but he’s not been around and…”

The guy looked at me for a moment. He seemed to come to a decision and asked, “You Simon?”

“Yes.”

“Mark talks about you sometimes. You’ve been good to him. We don’t get many johns who care about us, but you’ve made a real impression on him.”

“Err, thanks. I do really care about him. I’m getting worried because I haven’t seen him for a while. It’s not like him.”

“He’s in hospital. Got burnt.”

A bolt of electricity shot through me. My mind went frantic, a thousand images flashing through my mind.
What happened to my beautiful Mark?
“Was it Jake, did he hurt him?” I remembered Mark’s comments about the guy who tried to cheat on Jake, and what happened to him.

“Not exactly. Mark probably told you he was staying with Jake. Well him, Jake I mean, and a couple of his sidekicks decided to go into the drugs making business. They got some chemicals and other shit together and tried to mix ‘em. The dumb fucks didn’t know what they were doing and there was an explosion. Jake was killed. No great loss there.”

I couldn’t disagree with him on that point, but I needed to know how Mark was. Was he badly burned? Would he live? So many questions came to my lips, but I just couldn’t speak. I was frozen with fear.

The guy continued. “Both Jake’s cronies were really badly burnt up. Mark was a lot more lucky though. I don’t rightly know what’s wrong with ‘im, but I think he’ll be all right.”

“Is he in The General?” I managed to find sufficient breath to ask.

“Yeah, Bobbie, one of his mates, visited him the other day.”

“Which ward?” I had to get to Mark.

“Um, dunno. Hang on a sec.” The man yelled over to one of his colleagues, who yelled back “Ward Four!”

I turned and ran back to the high street, completely forgetting to thank the guy for the news. Hopefully he’d understand. I needed to get a bus to the hospital as soon as I could.

It’s odd, I’ve always been pretty lucky about buses. Even when the service is really sporadic, I generally never have to wait longer than five minutes for a bus. I prayed damned hard my luck would hold today. It did. The number 14 turned up just a couple of minutes after I reached the bus stop. Of course—it being rush hour, and near Christmas—the bus was packed and I had to stand. I didn’t mind. I don’t think I could have sat still anyway. With agonising slowness the bus wound its way through the streets. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever spent a longer ten minutes in the whole of my life. Every time the bus stopped to drop off or to pick up passengers, I raged inwardly at how long it was taking to get to Mark. I could barely contain my anger at the seemingly inconsequential lives I perceived my fellow passengers were living.
Women heavily laden with presents for their undeserving brats back at home. Young men staring with vacant expressions out of the bus window, lazily chewing gum while their girlfriends applied more make-up to their already overly made up faces.