Of Sea and Sand by Jonah
Simon and Garret are here again,looking after their young family.If you are unfamiliar with this family,we first met Simon in 'A Letter from America' back in 2019. He was a teenager then,now he is well into adulthood. Garret originated in another author's story. I want to thank Jacob Lion, in the USA for his permission to use his characters in my story. That's one of the things I want to make plain,all the characters in this,and all my other stories are wholly fictitious. They aren't based on real people. The other thing I want to make plain is that, while Simon and Garret are both gay, as are some other characters, this is a story about love - not sex,lust,or any other substitute,but real Christian love. If it's pornography you want, you'll have to find it somewhere else. Lastly,this story is brought to you by Nifty,free of charge. Nifty doesn't charge me to publish it, nor you to read it,but it does cost money to bring it to you. Please consider donating to Nifty at https://donate.nifty.org/ so that these stories continue to be available for all to read.
Chapter 12
We were up good and early on Saturday, but Mrs.Kesteven was up earlier. The Ryans were still in bed but Mr Stockdale was in the dining room.
Despite Mrs.Kesteven's protestations last weekend,that cooked breakfasts were only for Sundays, there was sizzling in the kitchen and an aroma of fried bacon.
"You've got a long journey in front of you," she told us as she bustled in with tea things, "so you'll need a good breakfast inside you."
Mrs.Kesteven's full English was as good a breakfast as you'd find anywhere and we all did justice to it.
After breakfast we were all upstairs again,collecting our luggage and transferring it to the car. The Ryan family finally surfaced as we finished that, so we said our goodbyes to them.
Mrs.Kesteven appeared in the hall with half a dozen aluminium foil packages.
"Not all them trains have buffet cars," she told us, "and those that have are expensive."
I have to admit to being touched - well,I think we all were. The boys all gave her a hug and the adults thanked her profusely.
Well we were soon underway for the station where Garret booked the car back in and got his deposit back. That was Margate for us. The last we were to see of it was as we departed on the 0947 to Charing Cross.
We adopted the same arrangement that we had on the outward journey. The boys took one table while the adults sat across the gangway from them.
"I can't say I'll be sorry to see Newton again," said Garret.
"You just did say it," I pointed out, "albeit in a negative context."
"Don't you two ever let up?" groaned Grev, with a lopsided grin that said he wasn't being serious.
"Well it's nice to get away for a bit," Garret replied,"but it's always nice to get home again."
Whether I agreed with that sentiment or not, I didn't think it a good thing to say in front of Grev. Garret,I noticed, had belatedly come to the same conclusion and, in doing so, had presented himself with a dilemma. If his remark had been rubbing it in for Grev, then apologizing for it would have been rubbing it in further.
"Yes it is," said Grev, either not noticing Garret's embarrassment, or pretending not to. "I don't know whether Eilene will be back, or indeed if she ever will, but it'll still be nice to get home."
The train had started to coast, presumably slowing for its Herne Bay stop.
"It's been good having you with us," I said. "In fact the boys think it's been better than good. Anytime you want a break from Hellesdon, you know where to find us."
"You know," said Grev, "there are people whose lives go smoothly, on an even keel, without all these traumas and dramas."
"They must be bored silly," said Garret. I don't think he was joking.
Grev broke into a smile.
"Yes, I expect you're right," he said as Herne Bay arrived outside.
Trainspotting books had been deployed across the aisle, except for Barry. He was inspecting his treasure. Mr. Stockdale had presented him with a soft red plastic loose leaf folder. It wasn't until the train stopped at Herne Bay, and Philip scrambled over Barry to get to the window, that I got a chance to inspect it. It was a copy of British Rail's 1972 edition of their Rule Book. It was on the cards that, over the months to come, Barry was going to have more questions than I had answers for.
The train set off again on its way towards Whitstable.
"So you think Eilene will be back then?" Garret queried. Did he never learn?
"I don't know what to think," returned Grev. "We spent all our time living in each others' pockets and under each others' feet. It's bound to be a strain and we both needed some space. Eilene was the one with the courage to do something about it. Whether she just wanted a break, or a more permanent separation, only time will tell, but the time has come for me to get on with it either way."
"We just don't want you to think we're chucking you out," Garret told him.
"Why would I think you were chucking me out?" said Grev. "It was me that said I was going home."
"Yes, but even so...."
"Do me a favour Barry."
"What?"
"Swap seats."
Barry didn't hesitate. He and his Rulebook were immediately sat opposite me while Grev went and sat next to Lloyd. I glanced at Barry's still-open Rule Book.
'Section H - Working of Trains."
O heck!
As the train left Whitstable I pretended to be asleep.
"What's a 'piped only vehicle'?"
I must remember to thank Mr Stockdale - if I ever saw him again.
We were fast to London Bridge and Waterloo East, finally sliding into Charing Cross Station. There would be no avoiding taking our luggage on the underground this time. It was dinner time on a Summer Saturday and the Circle Line was pretty busy. Not as busy as it would have been in the rush hours, but busy enough when you've got to haul suitcases around.
Fortunately the train went direct to Liverpool Street without the need to change. Once embarked aboard our electric multiple unit at Liverpool Street we departed at half past one for Norwich. Mrs. Kesteven had provided us with sandwiches and an orange each and the journey was relaxing.
Garret was right. It would be good to be home.
The End