The Harder They Fall (31 page)

“Yeah. It was amazing. I didn’t realise how easy it was to tune into animals, or get them to tune into you. Horses are really responsive like that. You just kind of get into this zone where suddenly you know exactly how they feel and what they’re going to do next. The first time I did it was so weird, like magic, although it’s really only about correctly interpreting their posture and movement.”

“Body language—same as with people,” Josh said. He had been watching George closely and his eyes had lit up with a joy that wasn’t there when he talked about any of the other work he’d ever done, including counselling. But now George was aware that it was he who was being read instead of his letters, and he turned the tables.

“Tell me about that spark.”

“You already know. You just read it.”

“Tell me anyway.” George leaned against the cupboard and looked at him expectantly.

Josh closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to visualise, smell, hear everything about that moment. He had repressed it so long ago and so thoroughly that it took time to recapture, reforming itself gradually and with an entirely imagined grainy film effect.

“OK,” he said, “this is how I remember it. You were buying a round of drinks and I was sitting at a table with Ellie. She was stressing out about us losing our chairs, even though we all had allocated seats from the sit-down meal. You brought the drinks on a tray and nearly tripped with it. I got up to try and help, but it was too late. My drink slid right off the tray and all over me. You blushed and screwed your eyes tight shut. When you opened them again you realised I was staring at you and you smiled, and I couldn’t look away. It was like you’d changed into someone new, right there before me, and I couldn’t take my eyes off you. It made me feel dizzy, sick—I’m getting the same butterflies now, just thinking about it.”

“No way!”

“You don’t believe me?”

“Yes, I believe you. Just…wow, man. That’s…” George shook his head in amazement.

“What about you?” Josh asked, feeling very vulnerable now he’d finally told him the truth, or at least the start of it. “And don’t just say ‘from the moment we met’ again, because we were only in junior school! When did it happen for real?”

“Well,” George began, his face breaking into a smile, “it was also at the sixth form ball. I was buying us a round of drinks and you were sitting at a table with Ellie. I think she might have been stressing about us losing our chairs and I’d been to the bar…need I go on?”

They both laughed and continued to gaze at each other in wonder that after twenty years they’d finally discovered they fell for one another at the very same moment. What to do about it: that was the question.

“Kettle’s boiled,” Josh said.

“Yep.”

“Best make the coffee.”

“Yep.” George snapped out of it and poured water into the empty mugs. Josh tutted and pushed the coffee jar towards him, their hands touching briefly in transit and making George gasp. It was electric. Josh turned away.

“Is that why you didn’t tell me?” George tried to make light of the question, as if it mattered less than the granules of coffee tumbling from the spoon in his shaking hand. “In your letters—the sex thing?” The lack of reply was confirmation in itself. “Josh. Please don’t push me away, not now.”

“I’m not. It’s just…”

“I know. I read your letter. You still feel the same?”

“Which is why we could never make it work. I watched you on Saturday, battling to be yourself in front of all those people. And I was so proud of you, for knowing who and what you are and having the guts to show them.”

“You don’t know what you are. Is that what you’re saying?”

“That’s the problem. I don’t think I’m anything. Oh, I’m not saying I don’t get aroused, but obtaining sexual release isn’t the same as having a sexual relationship.”

“So you’ve never wanted to…act on it?”

“Once or twice, but not in general, no.”

George had been stirring the mugs the whole time and was still stirring them now. He stopped immediately and handed one to Josh.

“So what’s changed? Why tell me all of this now, if you’re so certain it won’t work?”

Josh couldn’t answer him, not because he didn’t know, but because it was still too painful to explain. He tried to unravel a couple of threads from the full version. The thing was that he’d always loved George, but he’d convinced himself that he couldn’t possibly be
in love
with him, because he didn’t want to have sex with him, or anyone else. That was why he’d denied the way he felt; however, since they’d been living together, it had been a constant struggle to keep those feelings locked away and his defences had finally reached breaking point.

“You’ve been so distant,” he said, still grasping around in the rest of it for something more meaningful to add.

“I’ve been distant?” George asked incredulously.

“Yes, I know I have too, but I thought you were leaving me, and I think it must’ve flipped a switch in my head. Remember that client I had with Asperger’s Syndrome?”

“Sort of.”

“When I told him I’d never been in love, I honestly believed that.”

“Hang on.” George wanted to check he was getting it right. “So, you think being in love with someone means you should also want to have sex with them?”

Again, the absence of a response gave Josh away.

“Do you realise how ridiculous that is?”

“Is it?”

“The other day, when you accused Kris and me…”

“I didn’t accuse you.”

“Let me finish, please?”

Josh sipped his coffee by way of assent. George rephrased and continued.

“You said there was always something between Kris and me, that we wanted each other, but it didn’t necessarily mean anything.”

“It’s true. Just because you desire him…”

“I don’t.”

Josh looked at him in confusion.

“Kris and I have never had sex. He was my first boyfriend and I was his, so yes, maybe we do have some kind of hold over each other, but that wasn’t why he kissed me at the reunion party. He was trying to prove a point, that no-one would care, and he was wrong. Suzie Tyler is still a vile bitch.”

“Don’t get me started on her,” Josh warned. “She was looking for someone to victimise all night and I know it’s not much of a consolation, but the majority of people don’t share her very warped view of the world, so try not to take it personally.”

“Hmm. That’s what Kris said too. Even so; being called names hurts, however old you are, and it could’ve been avoided.”

“Did you love him?”

“Yes. I still do, as a friend, although sometimes he really pisses me off, especially when he pulls stunts like that. Growing up where I did, you don’t go around advertising it, and I know he thinks he’s doing it for all the right reasons, but it’s a different world.”

Josh stayed quiet for a moment, to take in this response. It didn’t make him jealous to hear that George still loved Kris and no doubt the feeling was mutual. However, the question he had asked was not quite the right one.

“Were you ever in love with him?”

“Do you mean that, or are you asking if I ever wanted to have sex with him?”

Josh was still struggling to distinguish one from the other.

“No,” George replied, for the answer was the same either way. “I’ve never been in love with anyone but you.”

“And what about sex?”

“Well,” he said coyly, “I wouldn’t say no. We’ve known each other for thirty years and I’ve been in love with you for twenty of those. I’d be lying if I told you it had never crossed my mind.”

Josh was flattered, but far from reassured. In his anxiety, he absentmindedly picked up the dishcloth and started brushing the spilled coffee granules into his hand.

“But it’s not that important,” George said. “The way you start cleaning when you’re stressing out, or hide behind your hair when you don’t want me to know how you’re feeling? That’s the stuff that matters.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Today is the first time we’ve ever talked about sex. Doesn’t that tell you something?” Josh shrugged and moved towards the sink. George intercepted and disarmed him of the dishcloth. “Are you listening?” He waited for eye contact. “Good. I’ll try and keep this short and simple. You see, there are lots of things I love about you. Your smile, your eyes, the way you snort when you laugh, and how you spend hours messing with your hair for it to end up looking the same as ever. I love that you’re intelligent and quick-witted, and that little know-it-all thing you do when someone says something that you think is stupid. I love your obsession with having everything in the right place, and the look of contentment you get when it’s all ‘just so’. I love how you try not to offend me when you hate what I’ve cooked, and how you always put the knives back in the right place when you wash up. I even love…”

“OK! I get the message!” Josh put his finger on George’s lips. It was an action that both silenced him and momentarily stopped him breathing. Josh smiled and released him. “Although I still don’t see why the paring knife has to be on the left, and the vegetable knife…” George raised an eyebrow. “Anyway, as long as it makes you happy.”

“It does,” George assured him. “But do you understand what I’m saying?” Josh nodded. “And do you still think being in love with someone means wanting to have sex with them?”

“No. I guess not.”

“What do you think now?” Even though he’d had confirmation that the text message was for real, George was as desperate to hear those words as Josh was to say them, but to do so would be to finally admit it to himself and he was frightened; that in spite of all that George had said, the truth would send him away, only this time it would be forever. However, he was here now and maybe that was enough. Josh took a deep breath and surrendered his soul.

“I think I’m in love with you, George, but I don’t know.”

“Because you don’t want to have sex with me?”

“No. Yes. How the hell am I supposed to answer that?” He blushed and put his head down so that his hair fell over his face.

George laughed and gently lifted Josh’s chin with his finger. “You know? Whichever of those it is, I’m OK with it.”

Josh didn’t dare look at him, terrified it would turn out to be another lie.

“Hey,” George prompted, and Josh glanced up. He saw the sincerity in those beautiful green eyes. And he knew.

From the sublime to the not so much ridiculous, but ridiculously loud, Eleanor’s hen party was a very different celebration to the low key night in the jazz club two days previously. In attendance was the bride herself, of course, her sisters Charlotte and Tilly, her mother (not staying long, too much to do), Shaunna, Adele, Jess, Mrs. Brown (Rosa, please), Krissi, Karen (Krissi’s current and Eleanor’s previous assistant manager), Kris, Josh and George, the latter three ‘honorary hens’ for the evening, by reason of orientation or allegiance. Tonight’s venue: a crowded live music bar with no less than three bands performing and a late licence ’til 3 a.m.

“No prizes for guessing who organised this,” Shaunna shouted to Adele. Charlotte was already up and dancing, pint glass in one hand, camera in the other, so as not to miss a single photo opportunity. Mrs. Davenport and Mrs. Brown were also up on their feet, not dancing as such, but definitely swaying in time to the music.

“Does it have to be so loud?” Adele shouted back.

“Yeah. I think it does, although it’s no louder than what we used to listen to.” They were part way into the second band’s set, which was significantly louder than the opening act and didn’t bode well for their hearing surviving the headliners. Kris came over and joined them.

“They’re good aren’t they?” he said.

“Yeah. Very good,” Shaunna agreed. “I like this folky rock music.” Adele scowled and Shaunna laughed at her. “She doesn’t though, do you, hun?” Adele shook her head. “I haven’t seen Ellie for a while. I wonder what she’s up to?”

“I think you might be about to find out,” Kris said knowingly, as Eleanor and her youngest sister made their way over. They were carrying a bag, out of the top of which Shaunna spotted some brown feathers.

“Oh no! This is going to be so embarrassing.”

Eleanor gave them a big, cheesy grin as she approached and held open the bag. “One head-dress, one pair of wings. And yes, Adele, you have got to wear them.”

Shaunna put her hand in the bag and pulled out a pair of brown wings on a piece of elastic, attached to which was a hat with matching feathers and a red beak-shaped protrusion. She tutted and handed her drink to Kris so she could put them on. Eleanor nodded to Adele, who reluctantly followed suit, her own selection consisting of a white pair of wings and hen face.

“Don’t think you’re getting away with it, either,” Eleanor said to Kris.

“Have you got cockerels in there too?”

“Do you want everyone calling you a cock all night?” Eleanor asked.

Kris laughed. “Nope.”

“Good, because you’re a hen like the rest of us.”

He took out the next set—another brown one—and put them on. Eleanor tweaked his beak and then she was off in Charlotte’s direction. It was Tilly’s idea, but Charlotte was more than up for it: she put on her wings and hat and started strutting around the dance floor.

“Oh good God. What did I do?” Tilly asked. Eleanor was already looking around the bar in search of their next victims.

“Hmm. Jess must be in the loo. Let’s do the mothers.” Here she expected some resistance, but found them both to be more than willing to wear the ridiculous hen costumes. Krissi, on the other hand, was a bit more of a challenge, and only went along with it when she spotted Kris, strutting towards her from across the other side of the bar, poking his ‘beak’ at a table to the left and then to the right. Karen followed Krissi’s lead and put on the wings she was offered. Eleanor still hadn’t spotted Jess, but she had seen Josh and George standing at the end of the bar with their backs to her. George was talking, his hand cupped around Josh’s ear, and Josh was nodding enthusiastically. He turned to laugh at whatever George had just said, and spotted Eleanor and her sister coming their way.