Jamie Lawrence

Jamie Lawrence - Chapter Thirty

Disclaimer can be found on earlier chapters.

Please remember to donate anything you can spare to Nifty. The link to do so can be found on their homepage and on all directories.

Jamie Lawrence - Chapter Thirty

The car was a little crowded when Gerry pulled out of the community centre's car park. Malcolm was in the front passenger seat so that he could easily direct Gerry to Sean's house. Shane had been joined in the back seat by Will, who had insisted on coming despite Gerry telling him it wasn't necessary.

The atmosphere in the car was tense. Nobody knew what to say, nor did they have any idea what they were about to do. Gerry had been considering various paths but if he was honest with himself, he was acting on impulse. He hadn't really thought any farther ahead than arriving at Sean's house.

Malcolm directed Gerry into a cul-de-sac in the midst of a somewhat harsh looking neighbourhood. A cluster of eight year olds held up their middle fingers at the car as they drove past and a group of twenty lads were drinking cans of lager in the front lawn of one of the houses. Gerry shuddered at the thought of a sweet kid like Sean living around here.

"That's the one," said Malcolm, pointing at a house with overgrown hedges and a gate that had been broken in half. "Not the best looking house I've ever seen."

"Okay," said Gerry, killing the engine and turning around in his seat. "Shane, you and Will stay here."

"Not a chance," said Will. "You might need help in there."

"Yeah," agreed Shane. "You be the brains. We'll be the brawn." He held up his arm and flexed his bicep.

"For fuck's sake," muttered Gerry under his breath. "Fine! Family outing it is then."

They all clambered out of the car and headed in the direction of the house. Behind the unkempt hedges were more than twenty bags of rubbish offering up the horrid aroma of rotting food. Malcolm pulled out his camera phone and clicked a few times. Gerry nodded his approval and stopped in front of the door, his fist raised to knock. He hesitated. "What's the matter?" asked Will.

"What am I going to say? 'Hello, are you abusing your son?'"

Will opened his mouth to speak but froze at the sound of screaming coming from behind the door. Gerry immediately put his hand on the door handle and tried desperately to shoulder his way in, to no avail.

"Dad, move." Gerry stepped to one side and Shane braced his body to deliver a swift kick to the door, close to the handle. The door flew inwards with a crunch, splintering as it went. Gerry looked at his son, stunned. Shane shrugged.

The four of them hurried into the house and followed the sound of the screaming into the kitchen. Gerry froze at the sight before him. Sean was lying on the floor in the foetal position, his hands cradling his head as his father rained blows down upon him.

He was screaming and sobbing, and yet in the midst of it all, he kept saying 'I'm sorry!' As Gerry stood, frozen, the two people before him were not Sean and his father. They were Tommy and himself. It was almost exactly what had happened three years earlier.

Gerry rushed in and tackled the huge man about the waist, his black overcoat flying out behind him as he ran full force into him. With a great outcry, the man toppled over, teetering momentarily on one foot before going down. Gerry landed on top of him but scurried quickly to his feet to place a foot lightly on the fool's chest.

Malcolm hurried in and helped Sean to his feet. The poor boy was sobbing and hunching over, looking small and fragile. He was clutching his right wrist in his left hand, holding it tightly to his chest. "Mr Carter, I think his wrist may be broken," said Malcolm.

Gerry took out his car keys and chucked them to Malcolm. "Take him to A&E in my car." Malcolm nodded and hurried Sean from the room.

"You'll do no such fuckin' thing!" bellowed Mr Logan from the ground.

"Actually, Mr Logan, I don't think you're in any position to tell me what I can and can't do."

"Let me up, dickhead!"

"Mr Logan, my name is Gerald Carter of the Crown Prosecution Service. I have just witnessed you committing assault on a minor. There were three other witnesses."

"He's my fuckin' son!"

"That doesn't give you the right to attack him the way you just did, especially if it is for the reason I think it was." Gerry pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialled the police.

Twenty minutes later, Gerry, Will and Shane were joined by two police officers and a Social Worker. "Hello officers," said Gerry as the two men entered the kitchen, their eyes darting about the room to take in the scene before them. Gerry had continued to hold Mr Logan down with a light foot on his chest.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to remove your foot from the gentleman's chest."

Gerry took his foot away. "That is no gentleman. Myself and the two young lads you can find in the lounge witnessed this man assaulting his sixteen year old son. That's why I called you."

Once the officers had taken Mr Logan out to their car, Gerry shook hands with the Social Worker.

"Hello, Paula."

"Gerry, always nice to see you. Ah, silly question; where's this mysterious sixteen year old you mentioned?"

Gerry chuckled. "Right, sorry. We feared that he had suffered a broken wrist during the attack so his teacher, Malcolm Hayes took him in my car to A&E. They should be there by now."

Paula sighed. "Friday at..." She checked her watch. "Six o'clock. It's going to be a nightmare getting him into care."

"I've been thinking about that."

"Gerry, no! Don't say it."

"I think he should come with me."

"I told you not to say it!" said Paula putting her palm to her forehead.

"What's wrong?"

"Because it's a perfect solution, except for one thing. You're not a legal Foster Carer. To do it, I'm going to have to call in about twelve favours, work until about eight o'clock, and that's if the father agrees to let go of his son! If he doesn't, I'll be at work 'til midnight!"

"And assuming that Sean wants to come with me. He doesn't really know me."

"Well then," she chirped. "That's our first stop."

Gerry and Will left their phone numbers with the police officers and bundled into Paula's car along with Shane. Paula chatted happily as she drove and Gerry smiled casually as she did. She had always been a very chipper woman.

She pulled into the car park of the hospital and Gerry reflected that in the last couple of months, his family had spent far too much time there. He led the way into the hospital and asked the receptionist for Sean Logan. She directed them inside on hearing Paula's credentials.

"Hello Sean. Remember me?" asked Gerry, keeping his voice down. Sean nodded mutely.

"How are you feeling?" asked Paula.

Sean shrugged. His eyes were full of unshed tears and he was still cradling his wrist against his chest, though now it was in a brace.

From the other side of the curtain, they could hear Malcolm talking to a female doctor. "Are you the boy's father?" she was asking.

Paula stepped around the curtain. "I'm Paula Hardman from Social Services. The boy will be entering our care from here."

Gerry watched Sean tremble at those words. While the others continued talking, Gerry took the opportunity to reassure Sean. "Don't worry, you can come home with me if you like. Would that be okay?"

Again, Sean shrugged. He was staring at the wall, his eyes seeming out of focus. Gerry remembered promising the boy that his father would come around. He could only imagine the pain Sean was suffering. He stepped in close to the boy.

"It'll be okay, son."

Sean's chin wobbled and his left fist clenched into a tight ball. His body tensed for a few moments, and then he collapsed against Gerry's chest, grief shaking his body. Tears spilled from his eyes onto Gerry's coat as the poor boy cried his heart out.

Callum had been moping around all day, making it known that he was not happy. His mother had packed up all his clothes and told him that they were leaving that very night. He stuck to the classics; slamming every door as he stomped his way around the house; refusing to talk anybody; blasting music from Shane's room.

Eventually, Diane and Dawn had decided to leave him be and had gone to Bingo for a few hours. Regardless, he had continued to mope, even without his audience. It felt necessary.

At about seven o'clock, Gerry, Shane and Jamie came home leading two others behind them. One was tall and hot, wearing expensive looking clothes. He had the whitest teeth Callum could remember ever seeing. He introduced himself as Will.

The other looked to be about sixteen. He had a brace on his wrist and he seemed wary and slightly listless. His eyes were red and puffy and he was hesitating in Gerry's shadow.

Shane slid an arm around Callum's shoulders as soon as he was in the door. "Callum, this is Sean. He's coming to live here."

Callum's gut wrenched. He wasn't even out of the door and they were already replacing him. More than that, they were rubbing his face in it. It was the latter that hurt the most. "Oh," he said simply. He whirled and headed up the stairs as quickly as he could.

He threw himself face down onto Shane's bed; the bed that Jamie and Shane had shared with him for nearly two months. Suddenly, it felt like those two months had meant nothing to them. Two months that had changed Callum's life so completely were insignificant to his two best friends.

"Sweetie?" came a voice from the door. It was Jamie. Callum felt the bed shift as Jamie sat down on the edge and then a hand resting between his shoulders. "What's the matter, sweetie?"

"Nothing," said Callum, pulling a pillow over his head and pressing it firmly over his ears.

"Well that's obviously not true." Jamie tugged the pillow away. He lay next to Callum and rested his chin on his shoulder. "Come on. I thought you and I could tell each other anything."

Callum screwed his eyes up tight, fighting back tears. "I'm fine!" he bellowed stubbornly.

"Okay," said Jamie lightly. "Well then I guess you won't mind if I just... tickle you to death!" he cried, jumping onto Callum and straddling his bottom. He dug his fingers into Callum's sides and wiggled them into the tender skin there. Callum immediately started giggling and fighting to flip himself over.

"Geroff me!" he called out between reluctant laughs, his pubescent voice cracking under the strain.

"Not until you tell me what's up," said Jamie, still tickling Callum.

Callum continued to try and fight Jamie off, without any success. "Okay!" he screamed breathlessly. "Okay!" Jamie released him and they sat side by side on the edge of the bed.

Jamie linked his fingers into Callum's and brought the younger boy's fingers to his lips, planting a gentle kiss on his knuckles. "Well?" he asked. Callum didn't speak. It hurt to even think the words. "Don't make me tickle you again," Jamie warned.

Callum stared at his knees as they bobbed restlessly next to Jamie's. "Sean."

Jamie tipped his head to one side, his brow furrowing. "Sean?" He stroked the back of Callum's hand lightly as he let the question hang.

Callum's chin wobbled. "He's coming to live here," he offered, as if it explained everything.

Jamie nodded slowly. "Yes. He is." He hesitated. "Sweetie, you're not jealous, are you?"

A tear spilled from each of Callum's eyes. "You're replacing me," he said quietly.

"Aww!" said Jamie, pulling Callum's head into his chest. "We could never replace you!" He sat stroking Callum's hair. "No one could replace our sweet, cute, charming little Callum."

"Really?" asked Callum in a small voice.

"Really-really. Now, let's get you down those stairs so that you can actually say 'hello' to Sean."

"Gerald Arthur Carter, you big softie," said Diane after Sean had gone off to sleep in the guest room. Her lips were pulled up at the edges in a triumphant smile.

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about," said Gerry loftily.

"Oh really?" asked Diane, her voice betraying her incredulity. "Adopting a young lad out of the goodness of your heart? Now, I know I didn't ask Sean if he was gay, but I definitely noticed it. Are you going to pretend that you didn't?"

"I didn't need to. I met him at PFLAG. No need to guess after that."

"You've been going to PFLAG?" said Diane, clearly shocked. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know; I guess it felt like admitting weakness."

Diane pursed her lips. "You're not weak." She moved to his side and put a hand on his shoulder. "In a matter of about twenty days, you've gone from almost beating up you're son's boyfriend to saving a gay kid from an abusive father, and then bringing that kid into your home. You're trying to reconnect with your gay brother, and you're attending meetings to make you a better father and brother." She slid into Gerry's lap and kissed him fully on the lips. "You're one of the strongest men I know. Now, how about a reward for all that strength?" she asked, sliding her night-gown off her slender shoulders, exposing her soft, silky skin.

In the days leading up to Karl and Becky's wedding, Kyle became insufferable. The doctors had reserved judgement on whether or not he should go until the very last minute, and he was making Darren's life very difficult as a result. When the doctors finally cleared him to go, he became as giddy as a school girl and bounced around so much that he threatened to tear his stitches.

Darren thought Kyle looked amazing in his black suit, and Kyle said the same of him. They each threatened to undress the other before they set of for the wedding, but managed to keep their hands off each other long enough to get down to the taxi.

The ceremony had been amazing. The church Karl and Becky had selected had the highest ceiling Darren had ever seen. The walls were bright white with shining stained glass windows depicting various saints. The altar was decorated heavily with flowers of pink, red and white, bordering the happy couple in an air of romance.

There was the usual smattering of tears when the couple delivered their personalised vows, and a huge cheer when they finally shared their first kiss as Mr and Mrs Summers. Kyle was misty eyed when they were presented to them all.

The congregation moved on to the Shakespeare Hotel in the city centre for the reception. Everyone drank heartily, except Darren and Kyle. Kyle couldn't drink because he was on painkillers and Darren wouldn't drink without him. It was safer to only drink when Kyle did, plus he wanted to be alert in case Kyle needed him.

Kyle hardly touched his meal of Paprika Chicken and instead sat moving balls of rice around his plate with his fork. "Are you okay, babe?" asked Darren after watching Kyle do this for several minutes.

Kyle smiled a little wanly. "It's the painkillers. They're making me feel icky." He dropped his fork and leaned against Darren's chest.

"Maybe we should get you home." He kissed Kyle's forehead lightly. "Get you in bed so you can have a nap."

Kyle closed his eyes and sighed. "Mmm, that sounds good. As long as you cuddle me."

Darren released a low, throaty chuckle. "Naturally."

"But, can we have one dance?" he asked, his voice high and quiet, pleading.

"Are you sure you can do it?"

"I can if my big, strong boyfriend helps me."

"Okay. I'll go find him," said Darren, a smirk on his face. Kyle smacked his thigh by way of admonishment. Darren barked a laugh and helped Kyle to his feet and over to the dance floor. They got a few wide eyed stares from the children and the elderly as they swayed gently in time with the music. Kyle kept his head to Darren's chest throughout the dance.

After a while, Darren said "Kyle?"

"Mmm?"

"I know what I want for my eighteenth birthday."

Kyle laughed under his breath. "Babz, you're not even seventeen yet."

"Yeah, but I won't be old enough for this present until I'm eighteen."

Kyle lifted his head sluggishly from Darren's shoulder. "Okay. You've got my interest."

Darren pressed his lips momentarily against Kyle's. "On my eighteenth birthday, I want us to go down to the registry office, and make you Mr Kyle Dempster."

Kyle's eyes went very wide. He stammered a little, clearly at a loss for words. "I- I- Daz- uh-" And his eyes glazed over. He drooped in Darren's arms, his body completely limp. Darren clutched him hard against his body and shook him slightly.

"Babe?" asked Darren, frightened. "Angel, are you okay?"

"'m 'kay," said Kyle groggily. "Just went a bit fuzzy for a sec."

"Right, that's it. I'm taking you home." Darren swept Kyle's legs out from under him and carried him out to the car park where six taxis were parked and waiting, hoping for an easy fare.

"You have to tell me if you're feeling tired," said Darren, his brow creased with worry. After a brief nap, Kyle had bullied him into letting him go to the Halloween showcase. Of course, it didn't take very much bullying, as the moment Kyle unleashed his blue eyes and quivering bottom lip, the battle was lost. Still, after his performance at the wedding, Darren was scared for Kyle's health.

"Dazzle, stop worrying! So I went a bit funny at the wedding. I'm fine now. So let's go boogie the night away."

"Oh, no!" objected Darren. "You can hardly walk. I'm not letting you dance."

Kyle turned from the mirror, his make-up only half finished and fixed his eyes on Darren. "But honey," he said, his chin quivering and his eyes pooling with tears.

Darren's resolve waned but he stood his ground. "No! I'm not risking you pulling your stitches or collapsing again."

Kyle slid into Darren's lap. "Pretty please, with my cherry lip-gloss on top? One dance, and then I'll do whatever you want."

He was clearly trying to make it sound suggestive, but Darren wasn't having it. "Even...sitting down and letting me wait on you hand and foot until your stitches come out?"

He knew that sitting around doing nothing drove Kyle mad. He had to be doing the washing, the cooking, the cleaning; anything, as long as his hands were busy. Sitting down and letting Darren do it all was not in his nature. This was fine normally, but the first time Darren had seen him wince, he had tried to call a halt to it. Once was once too often.

Still, Kyle insisted on sneaking around when he thought Darren was asleep or otherwise occupied. Kyle sighed. "Fine. The price I pay to dance with my baby." He planted his lips on Darren's.

"Mmm, cherry," cooed Darren, smiling.

"Are you ready to go yet, babe?" shouted Shane from the bottom of the stairs. He had been waiting patiently for nearly an hour, and he was sounding more and more impatient by the minute. "We're going to miss the start!"

Jamie put the finishing touches to his hair, checked his costume one last time and headed for the stairs. "Ready?" he asked, hovering just out of Shane's sight.

"Yeah."

Jamie slid into view at the top of the stairs and held his hands out dramatically. "What do you think?"

Shane looked him up and down, assessing the white suit and black shirt. He furrowed his brow. "Saturday Night Fever?" he asked.

"Bingo," said Jamie happily as he hurried down the stairs and into Shane's arms. He had styled himself after John Travolta in his white suit. He kissed his boyfriend who, at present, was styled as Marilyn Manson. "Oh, sorry honey. I've smeared your lippy."

"It's alright, it's all over you too." He put Jamie back down on the ground. "Okay, I'll fix my make-up while you get your Dad."

Two minutes later they bundled into the back seat of Johnny's Peugot and were on their way to the Halloween Showcase at their college. It was mostly a simple Halloween party, but there was also a talent competition taking place in which, Jamie had been stunned to learn, Matty was taking part.

"Do you know what he's going to do?" asked Shane when Jamie brought this up.

"No. He and Oliver are being very tight-lipped about it. I know that Oliver is coming as 'an English icon'. That's all he told me."

"And what about Darren and Kyle?"

Jamie giggled. "Kyle threatened Darren under pain of no sex for a month not to tell me anything."

"HAPPY HALLOWEEN!" shouted the deputy head of the college into her microphone. She had just delivered the usual 'Respect the building' speech that all teachers feel obligated to give and was now handing the microphone to the DJ. She headed off in the direction of the staff room where, no doubt, liquor was flowing.

The two hundred attendees cheered in unison as the DJ started with some heavy rave music. It was immediately too loud for Jamie and he gave Shane's arm a tug and guided him up the stairs and out of the front entrance of the college.

"I thought you wanted to dance tonight," said Shane.

"Yeah. I just want to wait until Darren and Kyle get here."

They didn't have to wait very long as at that moment, a taxi pulled up and out sprung Darren dressed as a Spartan warrior. He brandished his sword at Jamie and Shane and gave off a war cry before winking at them and turning back to the taxi.

He sheathed his sword and offered his hand to a woman inside the car. She took his hand delicately and put one high heeled foot onto the pavement. She rose from the car demurely, hesitating slightly as she put her weight on her left leg.

She was beautiful. She was dressed as Marilyn Munroe in the famous photograph in which she was standing over the vent, her dress flying up around her. Her hair was beautifully lifted and curled and her eyelashes were long and spidery over her plush, full lips.

It took Jamie a full ten seconds to realise that he was looking at Kyle, and even then it was only because he said "Thanks, Dazzle."

The pair hurried over, Kyle's heels clicking and echoing as he ran along at Darren's side. When they reached the door, Jamie bowed slightly. "Madame," he said with a grin.

Kyle leaned in and kissed each of Jamie's cheeks in the same fashion Marilyn would have. "You look lovely, Doll-face."

"Thanks," Jamie beamed. Jamie indicated Shane. "Marilyn, meet Marilyn."

Kyle giggled girlishly and curtsied. "I believe you were named after me, Mr Manson."

Shane chuckled. "You and a murderer." He took Kyle's hand in his own and kissed his fingers, leaving the faintest trace of black lipstick there. He bumped his shoulder against Darren's by way of greeting and stepped out of the way so Jamie could stretch up and kiss him on the cheek. The four of them headed back downstairs, Jamie and Kyle bouncing along in front and Shane and Darren following slightly behind.

The closer they got to the cafeteria, where the showcase was being staged, the louder the music got and as soon as they were inside, Kyle grabbed Jamie's hand and dragged him into the midst of the dancing, leaving Shane and Darren by the door.

Kyle only danced for a minute or two before he laid his hand gently to his left side, begged Jamie's pardon, and headed back over to Darren. Shane immediately took his place and the two of them danced away for more than half an hour. Eventually the DJ dropped the volume on the music.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, it is time for the talent portion of the evening!"

At that, Oliver appeared at Jamie's side. "Hey Oliver. Where've you been?"

"I was helping Matty into his costume. He's on second."

It was then that Jamie noticed Oliver's costume. He was dressed as Robin Hood, even down to wearing a pair of opaque green tights that hugged his legs, showing the bottom of his small but shapely bottom. Jamie eyed it up for a moment. "Wow, Oliver. You look hot." His red hair complimented the forest green outfit perfectly, and his hazel eyes certainly helped. Jamie could easily see what Matty could.

Oliver blushed. "It took Matty ages to convince me to wear this in public."

"Well, you certainly seem much more confident."

"I am, and I owe it all to Matty. He's so amazing."

Jamie smiled. "He thinks the same about you."

It was strange for Jamie to think that, but for a few twists of fate, he could have been in Oliver's shoes. Had it not been for that day in the changing rooms back at school when Shane had come on to him so strongly, he and Matty would doubtless have ended up together. In fact, if not for that day, Darren wouldn't have ended up at the hospital and wouldn't have met Kyle, and the latter might well have been dead already.

Jamie wouldn't have been there to help Callum come out of his shell in time to meet Darius. Gerry wouldn't have helped Johnny out of his alcoholic ways, nor would he have taken Sean into his home.

All this good had come from the one central person in Jamie's life. Jamie whirled on the spot to face Shane. The four singers on the stage continued to belt out 'Single Ladies' as Jamie eyed his boyfriend's face, obscured beneath thick, white make-up.

"You okay, babe?" asked Shane, tearing his eyes away from the stage.

Jamie smiled warmly. "Just thinking that I love you." He slid his hands into Shane's black coat and up his back, pressing his face to his chest and inhaling deeply, sampling Shane's scent. "A whole hell of a lot."

"I love you too," said Shane, sounding surprised. "A whole hell of a lot."

"Here comes Matty!!" announced Oliver, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. "Go Matty!!" he hooted through his cupped hands.

Jamie spun towards the stage and watched in shock as Matty walked over to the microphone. He was not himself, by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, if Oliver hadn't announced him, Jamie wouldn't have known it was him. He was dressed as...

"Cher," beamed Oliver. The guitar intro to 'If I Could Turn Back Time' came over the speakers and Matty waved out at everybody watching. His hair was clearly a wig, but it was black, curly, and huge. He was wearing Cher's famous outfit from the video; a leather jacket over a fishnet body suit and a revealing black one-piece bathing suit. He was peculiarly skilled in his high heels as he shot around the stage, touching hands that were offered up to him as he belted out Cher's classic anthem.

Jamie couldn't close his mouth. "Ho- ly- shit!" he uttered.

Oliver was giggling at Jamie's reaction. "He wanted to surprise everyone," he explained.

Jamie shook his head to clear the cobwebs. "Well, colour me surprised. Um, not to be indelicate, but what's going on the bulge department?" he asked, noticing the distinct lack of a one.

Oliver hid his face behind his hands. "He's squished it between his legs and duct-taped it in place." He giggled.

Jamie looked at Shane and saw that he was doubled over in laughter. "That's just fucking brilliant!" he forced out. "Imagine when he tries to tear that off!"

I hope you enjoyed this. Any comments, questions, or even suggestions are welcome. Please feel free to email me at thebobbyfish@gmail.com. Your emails are all very welcome, and I will try to answer ever single one of them!