WARNING this story contains graphic descriptions of hot man 2 man sex. If you are offended or too young to read it go away. Otherwise enjoy. This story is based on real characters and real events. While creative license has been used to enhance the tale, and obviously the names have been changed, the general storyline is factual. The characters in this story were living in a place and time when diseases were not so common. Be responsible and don't make love without a "glove".
Please note...this section doesn't have all that much sex in it. Keep in mind I'm trying to get you into the story. They aren't getting any so neither are you. Just wait till they get back together.
Ciao Dante-
Because the jet was small, and its range limited we had to make a stop in Newfoundland to refuel. It was early morning when we touched down at Heathrow. We taxied to the private tarmac and were greeted by Her Majesties finest immigration people. My passport and bags were quickly reviewed and cleared. The pilot had radioed ahead and there was a cab waiting, thankfully.
I had booked a room and secured it with a credit card so I went to the hotel and checked in. I grabbed my cell phone and dialed Joel's number.
On the second ring his sleepy voice answered, "Did you make it?" Flash was barking in the background.
"Yeah lover, I made it. I'm at my hotel and I'm going to take a short nap. I've got my first meeting at the gallery this afternoon and I would like to be at least somewhat alert for it." I answered. "Are you doing alright?" I asked.
"I'm fine, miss you, first night we haven't been together in a while and I had trouble sleeping. Flash isn't a very convincing stand-in." He said, and I could hear the smile in his voice, and a snuffling which could only mean Flash was sniffing the phone.
"Love you babe, I'll call you tonight or tomorrow." I yawned.
"Take care of yourself, lover. I'll call if I don't hear from you tonight, Ok?" He said.
The Gallery was located a short tube ride away from my hotel. It was one of London's best and the owner was there to shake my hand and introduce me to his assistant.
"David, this is Ian. He's in charge of your sales here." The owner said.
I shook hands with a medium height man about my age. Ian had very black hair that was slightly unruly and curled at his collar, and a thick Scots accent. He wore small black framed glasses and dressed in black from head to toe.
"Pleased to meet you, I've looked forward to talking with you." He said.
We settled down and they talked of my sales and the types of work they thought would improve my standing in the UK. They had arranged a small reception the next night at the gallery and I told them I'd be pleased to attend. The meeting lasted until "tea" and Ian asked if I would like to pop round to a café and share a pot with him, to which I agreed, telling him I had always wanted to take tea in London.
We settled at a table and I let Ian take care of the waitress. "Have you ever been to the States, Ian?" I asked.
"I was there a few years back as an agent to attend an auction at Christie's. I really liked New York. You're from the west though aren't you?" He asked
"Yes, the San Francisco area. I grew up in the mid-west though, Ohio actually. I like New York also, if it weren't for the winters. My works in a gallery there and I go about once a year." I said. We spent the next 10 minutes talking about art in general and Ian quizzed me about my style and technique. He was very well informed, interesting and interested. Finally I asked, "How formal is the reception tomorrow, I'm afraid I didn't bring black tie."
"Achh not black tie, our patrons tend to be a bit more trendy than that. A jacket and tie should do." He laughed. "You won't be the only one of our artists there, so you needn't feel too anxious." He said and touched my hand. "I'll stop by your hotel and pick you up at 6:00 and let you know if you're suitable. After the reception we can go to dinner. I've been assigned to keep you entertained while you're here. What are your plans for tomorrow?" He asked.
I looked into Ian eyes and he smiled. "Well I had thought of going to the Tate. I would like to see the Sargent's." I said.
"The Tate it is then, I'll call round your Hotel at 9:00 we can take the tube it's just around the corner from a station. I suspect you'll want an early night this evening. Your Hotel has a reasonable menu, but I would suggest you go round the corner to the Cock and Crown, its pub fare but good atmosphere and good ale. Tell Finney, the barman, I recommended it to you and he'll take care of you." He paused and smiled again.
"Well I guess I'll have to put myself in your capable hands." I laughed.
"Right then, I'll see you in the morning at 9:00." He said at the door to the café and we headed in opposite directions.
A light rain had started when I exited the tube and walked to the hotel. I was too much the Californian to like the weakness of the light, although the misty gray afternoon wasn't all that different from the bay area.
The Cock and Crown was certainly different, fairly quiet when I got there. I asked the obviously gay barman if he were Finney to which he nodded. I told him Ian had sent me round and that he had told me he would take care of me.
"Ah, Ian, was it?" He said with a thick Irish brogue.
"Tell him he could ring a bloke occasionally. I'm getting lonely." He roared along with the two other men standing at the bar. "But you go on and sit yourself down; I'll be bringing you the house specialty. Here's a good pint of Guinness to see you to your meal."
"Thanks, I think." I said to renewed laughter from Finney and his friends.
The meal was adequate, and the Guinness was very good, if warm. Finney came over as I was finishing the boiled dinner and settled across from me and lit a cigarette. "So Ian sent you? What a darlin' he is. Shame for me, but no regrets! So Yank, what part of the States you from?" He asked.
"California; San Francisco actually, Ian was right, this was certainly better than a stiff hotel restaurant. I gather you are from Ireland, Finney." I said
"Too right, David, will you be getting over there while you're on this side the pond?" He asked.
"Fraid not, I leave for Paris next week and will be going right back to the States after." I said.
"Well tell Ian to ring me, I do miss that bugger, he's too handsome by half." He laughed, "I'd be careful if I were you, he's broken his share of the boy's hearts." He sighed and winked.
Back at the Hotel I called Dale as it was potentially still working hours there. The time difference was too complicated on top of the jet lag. "Dale, how are Clark and Bill coming with the contract?" I asked "And tell Clark I got the specs for Xcom and I'm going through them at the moment." I said eyeing the folder across the room.
"The contract looks good, he wants me to fax it to you, and I'll send it tonight which should be your morning there. Can you sign it and fax it right back?" He paused.
"Uh sure, I don't see why not. The Hotel should have the English equivalent of a notary around. I'll fax it and then we can do the original when I get back out there. By the way I'll need to be relocating to larger quarters for this work. Looks like I'll be doing 10 panels at about 10 feet square. So I was wondering if you could start making inquiries about a space in or around Davis that I could convert into a studio/loft." I asked.
"Davis? Why do you want to go out there, we can find something very suitable over near the harbor. I'll get started..." He started.
"No, Dale. It needs to be Davis. Look I think I'm going to need to be close to UC for a few years. I met someone and, well, he is going to be out there, I know this is out of character for me. I also will be talking to you and Clark when I return about branching my work out some, I'm thinking about taking the Art Institute up on those discussions we had about opening an atelier last fall, and I'm thinking about turning my studio in the city into a design firm that I could send the things like Xcom and Sonoma over to and still be in control but let someone else do some of the work." I paused, dead silence on the line. "Dale are you still there?" I asked thinking the connection had been cut.
"Yeah, I'm still here. You sound serious, Dave, who is this guy? What about your career, you are an internationally known artist. Your work is hanging in the best galleries. Are you planning on walking away from all this?" He said.
I laughed, "Of course not, but I also have another person to think about now. I can't go on working 80 hours a week and hope to see my lover too." The conversation went round and round for a while until I finally told Dale that we would talk more tomorrow.
I hung up and called Joel's number. "Hey" His voice floated into my ear and my dick immediately sprang to life. "I was starting to think I was going to have to call you." He said and I could hear the smile.
"Sorry, babe, the time difference between here, California and you is just too much for me right now. I've been on the phone with Dale all evening trying to get some things sorted out. It's tough to row a boat upstream." I said and sighed.
"You sound beat. I have good news though. I talked to my advisor, and he was saying that I might take a leave of absence from here, register for one class on-line and finish my requirements as a visiting student at Davis. Then come back here in the spring, register and transfer in the credits. Take one more on-line class and finish here. I wouldn't loose any credits that way and could graduate on schedule. He is talking to the Dean of my school to see if I can get approval." He said, sounding very excited.
I could hear the excitement and realized that at least half of my new relationship was making headway. "That's great lover boy, wish I could reach through the phone line and kiss you." I paused and felt the ache of longing, "I miss you, Joel." I said quietly.
"Yeah, me too." He said and sighed. "Dave, don't let the dude's in California get you down. You know what you want, you'll get there eventually." He paused then said, "I love you Dave, even when you're not around, especially when you're not around." Joel's hand strayed to his crotch to ease his aching dick into a more comfortable position.
I could hear the longing in his voice, my heart skipped a beat, "Dude, I love you too and would give anything if I didn't have to be here right now. I'm thinking about how I can make it up to you in a couple of weeks." I said, and laughed quietly.
I hung up and spent the rest of the evening working on the sketch I had started of Joel and Flash.
Joel hung up, that night in his bunk, with Carlo snoring softy above him, he thought of Dave and the conversation. He had had to lock Flash up in an empty stall since Carlo had come back to work, he didn't like dogs. Joel couldn't get the sound of Dave's voice out of his mind, the frustration and need he had heard there had made him want to hold him. The thought of Dave's warm body snuggled up against him with his crack surrounding his dick was burned in his mind. Slowly he let his hand wander down into his boxers to feel his hot column of flesh. He touched the slit and felt the slick wetness of his precum that had made a wet spot on the cotton. Slowly he let his finger trace the slickness around the helmet of his cock and then slowly slid it down to the pucker beneath, his dick jerked and he sighed. Slowly he wrapped his fingers around his aching shaft, the last night he had spent with Dave still fresh in his mind. He could feel the hard sinewy flesh of his shoulders and the dark treasure trail that led to his generous 6 inch dick. He remembered the velvety feeling of Dave's ass wrapped around his own cock as his fist slowly stroked his throbbing length. He sighed quietly as his orgasm flung his cream onto his chest and stomach, and with his free hand he traced circles in his chest hair with its warmth.
I awoke to the phone ringing, I picked up. "Hello?"
"Are you up?" Ian's voice was familiar but I couldn't quit place it, then reality hit.
I looked at the digital clock as the numbers clicked to 0920. "Shit! Oh excuse me, Ian. I'm afraid I'm still in bed; I must have forgotten to set the alarm before I went to bed. I'll be down as soon as I can."
I said.
"No problem mate, I'll get you some breakfast ordered up. What number are you in?" He asked.
"512, I'll leave the door unlocked." I said and rang off. I jumped for the shower and let the hot water run over my head to wake me up. Damn, I thought what a shitty way to treat the gallery minder. I let the water run over my body and thought of Joel and the last time we had showered. My dick sprang upward at the thought. "No time for you this morning." I murmured and turned off the tap and grabbed a towel. Realizing I had left my clothes in the room I wrapped the towel securely around my middle and went quickly into the room to grab my stuff from a drawer.
Ian was lounging in the armchair with a paper cup of something steaming and what looked like a bag of croissants. "Well I'm glad you're up for the morning." He said archly looking at the outline of my semi-erect dick through the towel.
I reddened and grabbed the pile of clothes I had on the dresser and turned back into the bath. I shaved and dressed quickly, comfortable jeans and a loose knit shirt. I went back into the room and sat across from Ian on the edge of the bed. "Sorry about this Ian, I'm afraid I was on the phone to California all evening and then had trouble sleeping." I took the cup he handed me and sipped the delicious coffee.
Ian was holding the sketch I had worked on. "Nice, you have a way with portraits. I understand your love of Sargent." He said.
"Thanks," I said as I stuffed the last fragment of croissant into my mouth. "Ready." I stood up and took the sketch from him and put it back in my bag.
We wandered through the Tate and looked at more than the Sargent's but I paid my homage to the master and sat in front of his portrait of Mrs. Robert Harrison for an hour drinking in the subtle shifts of color on her flaming red dress and white sleeves. Ian wandered away and let me contemplate my favorite artist. He returned some time latter. "Still at it?" He asked.
I returned from the very special place that a Sargent in real life always sent me and smiled, "It always puts me somewhere else to sit in front of one of his works. I've been to every one of his publicly exhibited works in the US. I made it a type of artistic pilgrimage. The best are his 9 watercolors at the Met. Of course I had to pull some strings to see those. They aren't on public display very often. His scenes of Venice are some of the most masterful watercolors of his century." I sighed.
"Yours are better." Ian said, not patronizingly or flatteringly. He seemed to be completely serious.
"You think so?" I asked incredulously.
"Of course, or I wouldn't be walking you all over the Tate like a nanny with a pram." He laughed. "Your work will someday hang in galleries like this. I know that the V&A has inquired about some of your work. If you were a Brit it would be there already. Last year one of your paintings went into the Royal collection and I can only guess that sometime in the near future it will be displayed in the Queen's gallery at Buckingham Palace. Don't you keep up with who buys your work?" He asked amazed.
I laughed rather sadly, "No, I stopped paying attention to that some time ago. I just keep track of the sales figures to keep the accountant honest. Too busy painting, I guess." I said, and sighed. "I've been to busy for a lot of things until recently."
"Well you can wake up anytime you'd like. Your work is commanding steadily increasing prices. Most of our inventory leaves as soon as it arrives at our gallery.
We are hearing rumors that your inventory is going to decline due to this trip and then we heard another rumor just yesterday before the meeting that you were being offered a monumental commission. These things will drive your prices through the roof. I personally think you are being poorly served by some of your people if they aren't telling you to slow down and let the market demand build. It will, in the end be more lucrative for you and less stressful. I invited the senior curator of contemporary art at the V&A to the reception tonight. I have heard a rumor they would like to stage a show of the best contemporary international artists. When I talked this chap up your name was of course mentioned. Things like this would take your career to another level. You'd be in the same league with some of the greatest living artists. As I said, someday I don't doubt your work will hang in these galleries. Another thing that I would suggest if your managers haven't is to take advantage of this break to get fresh eyes. Your work is wonderful but a little predictable. That sketch I saw this morning is the freshest thing I've seen in two years. You have potential still, unlike most of our artists who have peaked, let it develop." He stopped and turned red, "Sorry, I hope I didn't offend you, but I am passionate about art and your art in particular." He finished.
I stood and stared at Ian's red face, thinking about this new viewpoint on my work. It had been a long time since I had received such an honest critique. "Ian, you have no idea how long it's been since I received such an honest evaluation, its one of the problems with success I guess. I agree with the predictability, it's the main reason I scheduled this trip. Thanks." I said and patted his shoulder.
We ate lunch and wandered through gallery after gallery. "I'd planned to visit the V&A while here this makes me even more curious about their collection." I said.
"Well let's say I pick you up tomorrow at 10:00 and we'll visit them. I have a suspicion that some of curators would be pleased to have you to tea." He said.
Before we left I once again found myself in front of a Sargent. I was again lost in thought. I felt hands on my shoulder and startled. Ian was standing behind me; I could feel the heat from his hands penetrating the thin shirt I was wearing. My crotch stirred, and I stepped away from him and smiled. "I'm ready to leave now." I said.
He nodded and we walked back to the tube station. Ian told me he would call for me at 6:00 and gave me a quizzical look, "You'll be ready?" He asked.
I laughed and said, "You can count on it."
I looked at myself in the mirror, the tobacco colored slacks and black merino shirt looked really good. They set off what little tan I had and I added the cream linen blazer to complete my "look" which I was under no illusions that it was anything but average. I added the silver ear cuff I had picked up to match the bracelet Joel had bought me, and decided I would quit while I was ahead. The cell phone chirped and I answered it.
"Dave, Clark here. Thought I would see how your day has been and tell you we got the contract sent off to Kentucky. The committee will send the initial installment as soon as they verify the contract. "He paused, "Dave, I want you to take your time about these decisions you were sharing with Dale. We are, of course, with you but are you sure you want to make a big turn in your career? I just want you to be comfortable with the consequences."
"Well, Clark, at least you understand they are my consequences to take. Sometimes I think you and Dale forget who is calling the shots." I said coldly, "Now I expect a list of potential properties to view when I get back out there. I've got big things happening here also that I will share with you, if they develop.
Now I really must go, Clark, I've got a reception to get to." I hung up without really waiting for him to respond. "Damn him." I thought.
The cell phone chirped again, "Yes!" I said, coldly expecting it to be Clark again.
"Dude, who pee'd in your corn flakes?" Joel said and laughed tentatively.
"Oh Christ, sorry babe. Just got off the phone with Clark, and thought it was him again. I'm afraid I cut him off rather abruptly. Damn him, I hate to have to remind these guys who the boss is. If the painter stops painting then we all get to starve." I said and laughed feeling the heavy mood lift at Joel's smooth voice. I hadn't realized when we were face to face how sexy he sounded. We talked for a few minutes and then I realized the time. Looks like I'm going to be late again. I sighed and told Joel I had to get to the reception.
I walked into the lobby and noticed Ian right away standing at the front desk; he turned and smiled when our eyes met.
"Thought I would have to come up and run you out again." He said and laughed.
"Yeah, I'm sorry. Trying to conduct business from half a world away isn't easy." I said.
"Achh, I thought you were on holiday. Let the accountants go hang for a few days." He said and laughed, "Good enough for them, if you ask me." He looked me up and down, "Right, you'll do." He said and I joined in his laughter.
The gallery was lit with a warm golden light and there was a very good pianist playing something jazzy and mellow. Ian led me over to the bar; I asked for whiskey and reminded the barman that I was a "yank" by asking for ice. We made the round of the crowd. The gallery had managed to attract a rather large eclectic group, and I found myself enjoying the conversations that Ian got me involved in. The group was thinning when Ian introduced me to the Curator from the V&A. I found him to be a strange little man with pebble glasses and a wheezy voice. He was excited when Ian told him of our intended trip to his museum in the morning and quickly invited us to tea before we left. I wandered away from the Ian after a while and stood listening to the pianist who nodded. I thought he was very good, actually and wondered what he was doing here.
"You got a request, mate?" He looked at me and smiled.
"You know any Nat King Cole?" I asked and smiled.
"Well I just might, I'll tell you what if you pick one I know, you have to sing it, if not I'll sing one I do know." He said and looked evilly at me and smiled.
I thought a moment and took another sip of my nearly gone whiskey, (always my downfall) and said, "OK, Non Dimenticar."
He laughed, "You loose, Mate." and started the intro.
"Damn it." I sat down the glass and started singing very softly, "Non Dimenticar, means don't forget you are, my darling. Don't forget to be, all you mean to me. Non Dimenticar, my love is like a star, my darling. Shining bright and clear, just because you're near..."
Ian walked up and looked at me and smiled a slow smile. I stopped at what I thought I saw there and let the melody go on. "Don't stop, mate." The pianist said, "That wasn't half bad. You like Nat King Cole?" I nodded.
"Go on," Ian said softly.
I could feel my face flush and said, "I don't remember the rest, besides you both have to be tone deaf."
The pianist laughed and said, "Right mate, here's another and I'll help you sing it." The piano started into the slow intro then he raised his voice to the crooning tones of "Mona Lisa". I helped very softly, "Is it only cause you're lonely, they have claimed you, for that Mona Lisa strangeness in your style."
Ian looked from one to the other smiled and then went toward the bar.
`So what are you doing playing in a place like this?" I asked the pianist when we had finished.
He barked out a laugh and said, "Its rent, while I'm waiting for my big break. Besides it beats playing scales in my bed-sitter. You've done this before haven't you?"
"Well I use to have to finance my artistic addiction in some creative ways. I spent a little time with a small jazz ensemble. We did mostly parties and a few hotel gigs." I said, my mind drifting back to the co-op days.
The pianist laughed and I stuck a 20 pound note in his tip glass and turned to find Ian standing holding another old fashion glass with apparently whiskey and ice out to me. I took the glass and sipped it.
"I play tomorrow night at a Hotel in Kensington, come on over mate and I'll let you sing for your supper." The pianist said and winked at me.
Ian said, "Ready to go to dinner?" I nodded and thanked the pianist again. I took my leave of the owner, got rid of my glass and met Ian at the door.
He had a cab waiting and I climbed in. Ian gave a string of directions that I couldn't follow. "Hope you don't get run over because I wouldn't know how to reverse those directions." I said and laughed.
Dinner was excellent, the wine was a Sonoma vintage and as always I couldn't help but look at the label, sure enough it was one of mine. Ian once again was good company, and I felt the worries about Joel and the upcoming move and all the hassles with Dale and Clark recede as we laughed.
We stood in the misty rain waiting for a cab the street lights were ringed with halos from the mist. We were near the river; I could hear the hoot of a boat horn. I was warm and mellow from the meal and the drinks. Ian was standing near, talking about my singing and how he couldn't believe I once sang in a band. Then he was facing me very close looking at me.
I once again saw the look in his face that I dreaded.
"Why don't you come back to my place, Dave?" He whispered and leaned closer. I felt the brush of his lips and stepped back only to be brought up short against the lamp post. He pushed harder against my closed lips, and brought his hands up and ran them across my chest. He suddenly broke off then stepped back. "It's the bloke in the sketch, isn't it?" He said.
I nodded and whispered, "I'm sorry, Ian."
"Lucky sod!" He said and laughed harshly.
The cab arrived and I got in, Ian talked to the driver and then at the door said, "He will take you back to your hotel, Dave. I think I need to walk a while. I'll see you in the morning." He slammed the door and the cab pulled away from the curb, I watched as his form under the streetlight was lost to view.
I walked into the room, and dropped onto the bed. I looked at the sketch and thought about Ian and what had happened. I knew I hadn't intentionally led him on, he was very attractive and we shared a lot of the same interests, but looking at the sketch I knew I was taken. I believed for maybe the first time that everything would work out. ------- Between Dave's phone calls Joel was trying to stay busy as the days crawled by. There was the work that needed finishing up on the farm. He had told C.V. that he wouldn't be staying this fall, C.V. had looked at him long and hard and then said, "You know Joel, I think you're going to make a great Vet. I was telling Bill Franklin that very thing just yesterday. Bill works at UC-Davis in the Vet program. He told me to tell you that he can always use an experienced horseman at that Vet Hospital he has out there. When you and Dave get settled give him a call." He paused then shook hands with Joel. "I'm sure we'll be seeing you around when Dave has to come back into town. I want you to know you're always welcome here." He said and turned back to his paperwork.
Joel was going through his stuff at home trying to get as many of his books boxed up and his clothes and electronics packed for the long drive. He was sitting cross legged in the middle of his bedroom floor surrounded by four years of college text books and animal care books trying to sort what would go and what would stay, when his Mom walked in and leaned on the door jam, "You gonna take all those books? You'll bottom out that old truck's springs with all that." She said and laughed.
Joel smiled up at the most important woman in his life. She was a diminutive lady, with dirty blond hair that was graying at the temples. She was still slim thanks to all the hard work she did around the place and at the sewing factory. He held out his hand and she took it. "I'm gonna miss you Mom." He said.
She sniffed, "Boy I'm going to miss you too. Guess this happens to everyone when kids grow up they leave home. I know there is something goin on here you haven't told me about, but I'm gonna let you take your time to get it out. I just want you to know that whatever or whoever it is, I love you and always will."
Joel looked at her in surprise, "What do you mean, goin on, I'm going out there to go to school." He finished lamely.
His Mom laughed and cuffed him lightly on the cheek, "Boy, I know you better than you think. Don't you know I can read you like a book? My guess is you've gone and met someone from out there and you're goin to be with her. I worry though that you don't want us to meet her. You ashamed of us son?" She asked. She saw her beautiful sons face fall and she knew that she had hit close to the mark, he wasn't ashamed of them. She really was worried now. "Boy, what's wrong with her. She married?" She asked breaking her promise to herself not to question Joel.
Joel looked at his Mom sadly and said, "No it isn't like that, Mom."
She waited for the rest, but he turned back to the stacks of books and her heart clinched. She bent over and hugged him from behind, "Boy, you're grown. I can't protect you from things like when you was a kid.
I just want you to know that I still wish I could, that's how much I love you. Whatever it is, I will always love you." She said and stood up to leave.
"Mom," Joel said, "I'm going out there to be with someone very special, who I love more than anything I've ever known. I'm afraid you and Dad won't understand it, that's why I'm being so secretive about it. Believe me I love you, but maybe I don't want to hurt you." He sighed and finished, "Can you understand that and let it be?"
"Joel, honey, if you say you love them like that, with that dreamy look, then I can rest easier. I just hope she loves you as much. I know how you are; you've never done anything by halves, always full speed. My only advice is making sure she loves you just as much.
I don't want to see my baby hurt." She said and left.
---- London continued to be rainy and dreary, Ian and I had done the V&A and I had taken tea with the curators, they approached me about participating in the exhibit and I told them I would certainly be interested. They would send me the specifications when they had them finalized; the tentative date was next year so I had time to evaluate my work. We never discussed his kiss, I didn't want to embarrass him and I could only assume he didn't want to offend me. The relationship was considerably more professional now. A few days after the V&A trip he asked, as usual what I was planning for the next day and the weekend, I told him I was going shopping on Portobello Road and then maybe a side trip for the weekend.
"Side trip, where to? Ian asked.
"Edinburgh, to see the portrait of Lady Agnew at the National Gallery." I said. "I can't possibly be this close and not go see it. Most people agree it is one of Sargent's best. I go to Paris next week so this is my only chance." I said.
"Right, I'll book us both seats. We can leave at 400pm and be in Edinburgh in time for dinner. I can put you up in my house there; actually it is my parent's house. It's just a short walk to the gallery." He said. "We'll go the Gallery on Sunday and come back on the evening train.
I paused and looked at him, "Ian, I don't know..." I started and he interrupted.
"No funny stuff, promise." He said and smiled with some of his old character.
"OK. Do you know any secrets about shopping on the Road?" I asked and smiled.
"Take lots of cash," He said and we laughed.
The stalls were crowded even though the Saturday weather was as usual raining. I milled around not really knowing what I wanted to buy for Joel. I thought about jewelry, but he didn't wear any and in his line of work it wasn't very practical. I was wandering past a book stall when something caught my eye. I went to the stall and started looking through the old book.
"You have a good eye, Sir. That's 18th century, the engravings were done by Stubbs." He said as I flipped through the pages. "As you can see it is a reference book on equine anatomy. That's a first edition printed 1750 right here in London. You'll note the Royal Warrant on the frontispiece. The binding is original hide with Moroccan insets. I don't have a complete provenance, but my guess is it was owned by Sir Joshua Middleton, Horse Master to George I." He explained.
"A friend of mine is going to Veterinary School and I am looking for a gift for him." I said.
"Ah, well he is one lucky young man to have you for a friend, if I may say. That is a very rare book indeed especially in this condition which I can only call very fine." He answered.
The rich leather binding and creamy vellum pages were delightful, and of course the illustrations were superb. I asked the price, knowing it really wouldn't matter. We haggled a little and I got what I consider a fair price. The book seller threw in a Victorian sleeve that fit the volume nicely. I wandered on through the stalls until time for lunch and went back to the Hotel.
Ian called up at exactly 2:45 from the lobby and wondered if I could hurry as the cab had the meter running. I grabbed my backpack and we were soon on the way to King's Cross.
We entered Ian's parents' stately row house; I was surprised that the home was large, regency from the look and furnished with period pieces. A plump gray haired lady came towards us down the hall, she took our raincoats and bags, "Your Mother is in the drawing room, Sir." She said quietly.
Ian smiled at her and said, "Dave, this is Mrs. Gorley, she is my mother's housekeeper."
I said, "How do you do, "extending my hand. Mrs. Gorley took my hand and bobbed a curtsy, which made me blush.
Ian chuckled and led the way to his Mother. She was sitting in a Louis XV chair in front of an Adam fireplace. A very tiny lady with grey hair perfectly coifed. She was wearing a royal blue silk dress and a string of pearls. Ian said, "Hello, Mum. Hope you haven't waited dinner for us." He bent and kissed her cheek. "Mum this is David Holland, the artist; I sell his work at the gallery. David this is my mother, Lady Margaret McAllister."
I bowed slightly and took the hand she extended, "How do you do, Ma'am." I said
"Quit well, thank you, Ian has told me about your wonderful work. I am quit cross with you Ian, you could have given us a little more notice and I would have had some friends in for dinner. As it is David, it is just us. I hope you like salmon; you see they are running right now so they are very fresh." She said and continued a stream of society talk sprinkled with gossip and questions about my work and Ian's job.
The dinner was delicious; Mrs. Gorley was to be commended. Ian explained his father was out of the country so it was just the three of us. We finished and Lady Margaret retired wishing us a good night. Ian led me into the Library and poured brandy. We settled into a pair of leather club chairs in front of the empty fireplace.
"Lady, Margaret? I had no idea your family is titled, Ian. You could have told me. I would have dressed for it." I laughed.
"I try to forget the title part. It has mostly been a burden, I'm afraid I'm too much the republican to enjoy a title when it comes to me. Besides if I had told you, I wouldn't have been party to your embarrassment when Mrs. Gorley curtsied." He chuckled again.
We retired and I found the guest room to be comfortable. I grabbed my cell phone and soon Joel's voice filled my ear, "Hey dude, having a good time?" He asked.
"Yes actually, tomorrow I get to see my favorite painting in person. I bought you a present today. You'll have to wait till I get back to find out what it is." I teased.
"Cool..." he said and was quiet.
"Joel, are you ok?" I asked, he was clearly not into talking at the moment.
"Yeah, Dude, I'm fine. Just got some things on my mind. Been home, talked to my Mom. Like you said, it can be tough not telling her. I'm so in love with you my heart wants to tell the whole world but my brain tells me I shouldn't. She is guessing a lot, she thinks you are a she and must be married. I told her that wasn't it. Don't know what she'll come up with next." He sighed.
"Would it make you feel better to tell her? Would you like me to help you tell her when I get back?" I asked trying to think of something I could say from 2500 miles away that would make the man I love feel better.
"I don't know, I just wish you were here to hold." He said. "I don't want to hurt her, or you. I just want us to be together." He laughed and said, "Hell, I bet you are feeling much better now, huh?"
"I love you, Joel, no matter what." I paused then said brightly, "I can tell you, your present isn't a BMW. I didn't think it would fit in my carry-on." I said and sighed.
Lady Agnew was magnificent, Ian wandered around while I sat and stared at the expression on her face. It looked like any minute she was going to tell you a joke and was trying not to laugh before the punch line.
On the train back to London, Ian asked if I was ok.
"Yes, just worried about someone." I said and smiled.
"Your bloke giving you fits?" He asked, exhaling cigarette smoke.
"Well not exactly. Have you told your parents about yourself Ian?" I asked.
"You mean that I'm a pouf?" He said sarcastically, "Yes, when I was 16. My Mum nearly fainted and my Father sent me to therapy. We finally talked, and I can honestly say they are quietly appalled. But they love me so they haven't disowned me or anything. I think they think if they don't talk about it, it will go away. They, of course see my reproduction as a duty, the title and all that claptrap." He looked at me and said, "That the problem?"
"Yeah, I've never told my parents and I live with it, of course being on the other side of the country helps. Joel however is just discovering how difficult it can be to live that kind of double life with people you love." I said, "Hell he didn't even know he was a pouf, as you so charmingly put it, until I came tipping into his life. Now I feel somehow responsible." I sighed, "Isn't love grand."
He looked at me sadly and said, "I wouldn't know, I'm afraid."
We were silent, lost in our thoughts the rest of the trip.
Joel was finishing up the trimming at the big house, when Ingrid asked if he would go down to the guesthouse and open the windows so it could air, they would be expecting a guest the next evening. Joel walked down the familiar path and went into the silent sitting room. He opened the windows and went through to the bedroom. He looked at the big bed that had cradled him and Dave, he sat down on the bed and the up rush of air brought the faint fragrance of Dave to him. He slowly pressed his face down into one of the pillows and inhaled the scent of his lover. He sighed and tears came to his eyes. He was interrupted abruptly with the chirping of his phone.
"Hey lover boy, what's up?" Dave's voice floated into his ear.
"Do you really want to know what's up at this very moment? I'm down at the guesthouse and I can still smell you on the bedclothes. I will leave it to your imagination what is up." He said and smiled.
"How are things with your Mom?" Dave asked.
"Well about the same, she feels betrayed because I won't tell her what is happening. I'll be glad to get on the road. How's Paris?" He asked
Dave could hear the sadness in his voice. "Well that's what I wanted to ask you about. I met with the gallery this morning, and was wondering if you could pick me up at the airport in the morning." He said.
Joel's heart skipped a beat, "In the morning? But you aren't supposed to be back until next week, what gives?" He asked.
"Well, I've been thinking about you and how much I miss you and how much I want to hold you. So I talked with the gallery as soon as I got off the plane. They were happy to move the meeting up. After the meeting there wasn't any reason to stay here. I called Delta and by golly they just happen to have one seat left on the evening flight to New York. I'm at the gate waiting to board. I will have to find a connector in New York to somewhere close to you. Don't know where yet. I'm hoping I can hop a flight to Cincinnati. Think you could come up there and get me?" He asked. Joel's heart was beating fast and his throat wouldn't work right.
"Sure, dude. Let me know which and I'm there. I can't believe it, you're coming home. God, I love you." He said.
To be continued...