Copyright Alex Douglas 2009
Author's note: This is a revised version of a previous unfinished story. It's taken me 6 years to finish it, so finally here it is. All feedback greatly appreciated. Email me at alex_d0uglas@yahoo.co.uk and I'll do my best to reply.
He was no sooner in the house than the doorbell rang. "That was fast," he remarked, swinging open the door. "Er..."
It wasn't Megan, but a grinning man. The top half of his face was obscured by the hood of his raincoat but Sean could make out a goatee beard, straight white teeth and a set of dimples. He thrust a sodden flyer into Sean's hand and gestured over his shoulder to where a truck was badly parked, ladders jutting out halfway into the road. Megahey Guttering Services. For a second, his rough thumb brushed against the skin on Sean's hand. "Just doing the gutters around this area, if you're interested." He looked up and the hood slid back, revealing green eyes which squinted at the darkening sky. "Not today, like. But give me a ring if you want anything seeing to."
Was that a wink? Sean glanced at the flyer while the man rattled off prices, potential dates and times, other services he offered. An interesting development. Horny workmen were always a welcome distraction from the drudgery of rehabilitation and unemployment. As he was contemplating what work he could get the man round to do, a car drew up behind the van. Megan got out, holding a magazine over her head as the rain started to fall, one hand clasped over her swollen belly. "What arsehole parked...oops!" she forced a smile at the man. "Didn't see you there."
"All right there missus!" said the man. "Owen Megahey. Just asking your husband here if you need anything done around the place."
Megan looked from Owen to Sean and back, a smile spreading across her face. "This is my brother, not my husband." she said, shaking the outstretched hand. "And I'm sure he'd like some pipes sorted out...wouldn't you darlin'?"
"Megan!" Sean hissed, but Owen was already laughing. "Sure thing missus,' he said, winking again. "Give me a bell sometime when you've decided what you want done, mate. I'm just starting out, so my schedule's pretty flexible at the moment."
"He was cute," she remarked, shaking the raindrops off her magazine as the door closed behind them.
"Yeah, he...damn!" Sean stared at the leather coat he'd just slipped off. Megan noticed the cast on his wrist and started a barrage of recriminations about his clumsiness, but he didn't hear. Cal's coat. Now he would have to see him again. Impulsively he held it to his face and inhaled the barely forgotten smell of Cal's body. The action cut off Megan in full flow. "What are you doing?"
He hung up the coat and walked into the kitchen. "Coffee?" he asked, pointing to the percolator. "You'll never guess who I met today." Trying to ignore the pains in his wrist, he pulled open a fresh packet of coffee with his teeth and went about what was once a simple task with a great deal of impatience, while filling Megan in on the day's events. By the time the coffee was in the cup, his wrist and leg were aching and the work surface was littered with coffee powder, debris from a broken cup, little scraps of metallic paper from the packet. He sat down beside Megan, concentrating on the bitter, earthy taste of the coffee as the pains dulled behind the heat of the liquid, almost writhing with accumulated frustrations.
Megan sipped and blew on hers, curling her legs up under her as she shifted on the sofa, trying to get comfortable. "So are you going to ring him? Cal, I mean. Sounds like the last thing you need, if you want my opinion."
Sean shrugged. "I'll have to return his coat. Anyway, Meg, he's married. I'm sure it'll all be perfectly...civil."
She put down her coffee and winced. "Come here, feel the baby kicking." She took Sean's hand and pressed it to the side of her bump. "There...did you feel it?"
A grin spread across Sean's face as he felt the movement underneath his fingers, on the taut skin of his sister's stomach. Her first baby, his first nephew or niece. A warm feeling crept into his heart for a moment. Megan's arms slid around him and pulled him to her chest for a hug. "My baby brother," she whispered, running her fingers through his hair. "You've been so brave. You have to look forward, that's all I'm saying. Things change, you can't ever get them back the way they were, no matter how much you want them to be. Just be careful."
He sighed and closed his eyes, remembered the passing of the empty months after the final fling as hope of hearing from Cal withered and died. "Don't worry sis," he said. "I'll be fine. The past is the past." And that was where Cal belonged, he knew it logically
What timing, he thought to himself, feeling a burst of irrational anger towards Cal. Why did he have to show up out of nowhere and then forget his damn jacket? Why did all the memories keep flooding back? He knew Cal's parents were in the phone book, but he couldn't bring himself to ring the number. Later, after Megan had gone and he'd had a long, hot soak in the bath, he found himself sitting alone at the foot of the stairs again, staring at the phone for what seemed like an eternity. "Fuck this," he muttered to himself, going upstairs again and flopping down on the bed. It seemed like only yesterday that he was in almost the same position, fretting about Cal, locked into his room with the music up, trying to drown out the sounds of his mother screaming, his father's drunken rages, the sound of furniture and crockery thudding and smashing around downstairs.
For authenticity, he dug out his old Nirvana CD and put it on. Just the right music for an angst-ridden teenager, turn it up, sing along and forget about everything, only this time he couldn't help but remember. How many times he'd told himself it's just a phase, a crush, you'll grow out of it soon and be normal just like everyone else...
Kissing Cal, his blood burning, Cal's slick cock hot in his hand, their tongues dancing as his fingers tangled in Cal's gelled hair, their breathing increasing as he jacked Cal to a climax. The kiss broke, Cal threw his head back and with a strangled groan he started to shoot his load into Sean's hand, his whole body tensed up as the orgasm shot through him. Sean felt the pulsations, the slippery feel of cum, and just for a second, their foreheads touched as Cal gasped and panted, his hands touching on Sean's shoulders.
They stayed like that for a few seconds as Cal got his breath back, then he stepped back and blinked, pushing Sean away with sudden unexpected force. Sean froze, Cal's spunk dripping off his hand, then Cal stumbled backwards over a bin, and screamed at him. "What the fuck do you think you're doing!"
"What?" Sean's throat was suddenly dry. He had never seen Cal angry before, and it was a terrifying sight to him. "What's wrong?"
Cal rubbed his face with both hands, groaning. "Oh my god, I can't believe you...fucking...gay bastard!" He pointed a trembling finger at Sean. "You...stay away from me!" Realising his dick was still hanging out he stuffed it back into his trousers, yanking up the zip, fixing his hair hurriedly where Sean's fingers had messed it up, looking all round as if he was worried about being seen.
"Cal, what..."
"No, I MEAN it, don't fucking EVER come near me again!" Cal's face was twisted with rage as he backed away towards the door of the club.
Sean stopped in his tracks. "I'm sorry, mate, I thought..."
"Well you thought wrong!" By this time, Cal was pushing at the door. "And I'm not your mate! Just...stay away from me! I...NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN, you... filthy FUCKER!" And with that, he was gone.
Nirvana was starting to annoy him, and he switched off the CD player, sighing. He remembered the gossip that followed that night at the White Horse, that Cal had apparently been seen leaving with Heather Scott, and had shagged her in her back garden while her parents slept upstairs and her sister was having a cup of tea in the living room.
"Enough," he said to himself, swallowing down the old jealousy almost automatically. He remembered Cal's wedding band, and sighed. Even if Cal had wised up, he was married. But a part of him was longing to see him again, whatever the price. He glanced at the clock and with sudden resolve, went downstairs and lifted the phone, trying not to notice how his hands were shaking.
A woman answered the phone, Cal's mother. He knew her instantly, and wondered if she would recognise his voice, after so many years.
"Hi, this is Sean Rooney." He had to clear his throat before he could continue. "Is that Valerie Rodgers?" The line muffled at the other end. "Just a minute, dear..." he heard her telling someone. Then her voice, louder but somehow hushed. "Sean?" He could almost hear her smiling. "Gosh, this is a blast from the past! Just a second while I..." He heard the noise of a door shutting softly. "It's been...how long has it been? How are you?"
"Fine," Sean said. "Actually, I'm ringing because...well, I ran into Cal the other day in the park, anyway, it's a long story, his dog knocked me over and I broke my wrist, and he took me to hospital...then he had to leave and he left his jacket and I don't have his phone number and I was wondering..." His voice trailed off, as to his shock, he heard the sound of weeping at the other end of the line.
When Valerie spoke again, her voice was almost a whisper. "Oh son...I don't know his number," she said eventually, sniffing. "But if you find out, can you let me know? Quick, take my mobile number before..." She spat out the digits, and Sean scrambled to catch them on paper, baffled. The line muffled again. "Yes, dear, it's just Joanie! I'll be there in a second!" Louder again. "Don't call this number again, you might get Jack, I know this must sound terrible but...please, if you find Cal, please tell him to call me, I miss him so much." And with that, the line went dead.
Sean stared at the scribbled numbers, scratching his head. What on earth was going on? And how was he going to find Cal now? Giving up, he yawned and headed into the living room. The rugby highlights would be on soon. Mindless activity was the last line of defence against terminal boredom. And he had plenty of time for it now. He thought about Owen, and smiled. Maybe it was time for some distractions after all.
= = = = =
Friday afternoon. Sean was wandering round Sainsbury's with a basket full of nothing, in a dream world. Owen was coming round for dinner, which meant Sean felt obliged to cook. He'd done the gutters the previous week, and ended up staying the night. Gazing at the vegetables, Sean tried to remember how Dee used to make curry. Was that green stuff okra or cucumber...? With a sigh, he picked up a bag of potatoes. Bangers and mash would have to do. He hoped his rubbish cooking would not put Owen off. After all, things seemed to be going well, although it was early days yet.
He smiled faintly to himself as he pushed his way through the aisle, past a couple of harassed-looking mothers whose toddlers were running amok as they chatted and compared recipes. Megan would be one of them soon enough, she was getting so big now. He thought about his last night with Owen, after they had gorged themselves with takeaway Chinese and polished off two and a half bottles of Chianti. Some night of passion that was. Completely stuffed and pissed, they had fallen asleep in bed, not even bothering to take off their clothes. Maybe tonight would be better.
Passing through the checkout, he pulled his scarf tight, flexing his fingers. It felt good to have almost full use of his hand again now the plaster was off. The wind was bitter outside, and it was starting to rain. He was dreaming of a long, hot soak in the bath when he saw something that made him stop in his tracks. A black Audi, parked beside the trolley bay. Forgetting about the miserable weather, Sean went over and peered inside, trying to remember what Cal had inside it that day. There was nothing of note, just a clean, well-kept interior with a green magic tree hanging from the mirror. Shivering, Sean reminded himself that there had to be hundreds of black Audis on the road. But the number plate caught his eye before he turned to walk away. CAL 101.
Bingo! Shaking his head, he laughed to himself, feeling his heart start to pound with excitement. Only Cal would be so vain as to squander money on such a pointless thing. But he could be anywhere inside the shopping centre. The car park was almost full, the mall crammed with people. If he went inside to look, he might miss Cal coming out.
It had been three weeks since he'd bumped into Cal at the park, and despite what was happening with Owen, his former best friend had never been far from his thoughts. And how he had searched for him! First of all, there was the bizarre conversation with Cal's mother. And then there was the Friends Reunited website, where he got back in touch with some of his old rugby mates and even Heather Scott, the girl who Cal was supposed to have shagged that night at the White Horse. She was now living far away in New Zealand with her husband of six years. It had all been very interesting, finding out where life had deposited those school kids he once knew. They'd even put together tentative plans for a reunion of Class of '91. But none of them had any idea about where Cal was or how to reach him. It was as if he left school and dropped off the face of the world, only to resurface in the park one day, like a ghost.
Setting his bags on the ground, he sheltered among the trolleys, shuffling from foot to foot with nerves, thinking for the hundredth time that maybe Cal deliberately did not write his phone number, although he would have hardly said "ring me" if he had. He did not know how it would be to have Cal back in his life, especially now he was married. He only knew as he stared through the misty Perspex of the trolley bay that he wanted it desperately, more than anything.
Ten minutes passed, fifteen, twenty. Sean got some funny looks from the trolley guys as they wheeled impossible lines of trolleys in and out of the bay. Every minute that went by reinforced his determination to see Cal again. He was so busy staring into the distance, scanning the blank faces of the shoppers that he almost missed the woman getting into the driver's seat of the Audi. A small, dark haired woman dressed in a nurse's scrubs. Cal's wife.
"Excuse me?" he called, trotting over to the car. The woman peered at him through the rain, suspicious. She looked as if she was about to slam the door in his face. He stopped. "I'm sorry to bother you," he said, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. "I was wondering if...this car belongs to someone called Callum Rodgers. I'm an old friend of his, Sean. Sean Rooney?"
Her face broke into a grin. "Gosh...Sean indeed!" she said. "I thought you were some pervert lurking around over there! What am I saying, sorry! Cal hasn't shut up about you recently, practically waiting by the phone for you to call."
Sean's heart flipped. "He didn't write his number on the note he left me at the hospital."
She laughs. "Typical!" she said, glancing at her watched. "I can't stop, but..." she fished in her bag for a pen and a scrap of paper. "Here," she held it out. "His mobile number. Give him a ring soon, before he drives us all up the wall! I'm so sorry, I'm late... Gotta go. But I'm sure I'll see you around?"
"Sure" Sean murmured, staring at the torn off piece of notepaper as if it was made of gold. He barely registered the noise as the Audi roared off, or the fact that he was soaked to the skin and shivering. A phone number... THE phone number! Jubilant, he walked back to his car. He felt warm, as if the world had smiled at him, finally. The wind and rain couldn't touch him any more.
= = = = =
The next day, Sean was up early, buzzing round the house, tidying and humming to himself with one eye on the tedious daytime TV, wishing that Owen would leave, and hating himself for it. The night had been enjoyable –reasonable food, interesting conversation and fantastic sex. But something was missing. If they'd met even a couple of months ago, it might have been different but Sean found his mind wandering again and again, into the past, dreaming about Cal.
Finally Owen was showered and dressed. "I don't know why you take so long in the bathroom when you're just going to get dirty again so fast." Sean couldn't help remarking.
Owen shrugged. "Well what's the use of cleaning anything in that case?"
"Good point." Sean pulled Owen close and kissed him lightly. "I'll call you." He watched the van driving away and sighed, resting his head against the mirror, his breath clouding over his reflection as he contemplated how to proceed. End it now? Take a chance? Relationships were just more hassle than they were worth.
It was time for action. He sat down, heart pounding, took a deep breath and dialed the number before he could lose his courage. One ring, two, three, four...
"You are through to the O2 Voice messaging system..."
"Shit!" He went back into the living room and flopped onto the sofa, taking the remote and flicking through to the Jeremy Kyle show. A doughy woman was wobbling onto the stage, her eyes shiny and ready to produce tears on demand, lips trembling with the effort of holding in her revelations. "Where is the slim woman I married?" flashed underneath. Sean settled down to watch. Soon he was so engrossed in the cat fight between the lardy woman and her newly-discovered love rival, the buzz of his mobile nearly shook him out of his skin.
"Hello?" he said, hitting the mute button as the woman's husband bounded onto the stage, applauding himself.
A silence. Eventually, "Sean? It's Cal."
"Oh hi," he said, then stopped. There was too much in his head that wanted to come out past the logjam in his mouth. He listened to Cal's breathing, and closed his eyes, imagining his lips close to his ear, feeling that breath against his skin.
"I'm sorry I forgot to leave you my number," Cal continued, "that was really stupid of me but I had a kind of...well, emergency, anyway...I'm sorry, again...how's your wrist anyway?"
Sean flexed his hand again. "It's fine, the plaster's gone, just got it off the other day."
Cal sounded surprised. "What, already?"
"Cal, it's been three weeks..."
A sigh. "Well, I suppose it has." Another pause. "Listen, I know this is short notice, but do you want to go for lunch or something? A drink even? I've got some free time..."
"What, now?"
"Well, yes."
"Er...ok, where and when?"
Cal sounded relieved. "Cafe Clements, in Botanic Avenue? Say half an hour? I've been told they do amazing bagels."
"OK, well...see you in half an hour, I suppose!" Sean felt stupid, as if he was arranging his first date.
"OK, see you." The line went dead.
Bagels indeed. Almost manic with excitement, Sean bounded up the stairs to the bathroom, wincing as his leg gave way and reminded him he was no athlete any more. He glanced at himself in the mirror and decided he didn't need to shave yet. Being blond, he could get away with some five o'clock shadow from the day before. He ran his fingers through his hair and brushed his teeth, then grabbed Cal's jacket from the back of the door on his way out to the car. The wind was fresh on his face as he got stiffly into his car. The cold didn't help his leg at all, but still, he felt like swinging round a lamp post and singing the whole way down to the café.
Cal was late and Sean ordered a cappuccino, glad he had stopped on the way for a magazine. Cal's timekeeping had never been never up to much, and it was nice to know some things never changed. The cafe was full of students, the hum of pseudo-intellectual conversation rising above the music. Sean remembered his student days fondly. Not because of the seemingly endless holidays, the friends he made or even the rugby team, but because it was the first time in his life he had ever felt free. He looked around at the leather sofas where he had once sat with long forgotten people. The décor was still the same, but it was all a little bit dog eared. Still, it added a feeling of coziness to the place.
The cappuccino arrived, and Sean was about to open his magazine when a gust of cold air told him the door had opened. It was Cal. He waved, and Cal came over and sat down, unraveling a long scarf, pulling off gloves. "Boy, it's cold out there!" Cal remarked, taking a menu. Sean tried to hide his shock at Cal's appearance. He hadn't gelled his hair, he was unshaven and the shadows were dark under his eyes. He looked exhausted...and old, Sean realised with a start. There was grey in his stubble as well as through his hair. And something else...
"What's with the colours?" Sean nodded towards the blue jeans, the light suede coat and the brown polo neck. He had never seen Cal wearing anything other than black, and it just looked...weird.
"The what...oh," Cal glanced down at himself. "Yeah well," he shrugged. "It was all a bit too... funeral-ish, I suppose."
Sean looked down. The cuban-heeled boots were still there, and he felt strangely relieved. "I've got your jacket by the way," he said, gesturing.
"Oh! I wondered where that had got to."
There was a silence. Cal ordered bagels, and settled back into the chair, pulling out his mobile phone and glancing at his watch. "So tell me what you've been up to," he said eventually. "Are you working?"
"Not any more. I was working in a gym, but I was off for so long after the accident, I don't think I'm their model fitness instructor any more."
They chatted for a bit about work, and Sean felt himself relaxing, watching Cal's gestures become animated, the sparkle appearing in his eyes as he describes how he'd travelled a lot, and the different jobs he'd had over the years. The topics were safe, and Sean remembered with a pang how nice Cal had always been. His eye fell on Cal's wedding ring again, and he squirmed with curiosity. As if he felt the weight of Sean's gaze, Cal folded his hands so the ring was no longer visible. But the same question was obviously on his mind and at last he asked it, his cheeks flaming. "So...what about...well, anyone special on the scene?"
Sean thought about Owen briefly. "Nah" he said. "Not since...well, I was seeing my skydiving instructor for a couple of years but she went to live in Australia. After that, just casual stuff really."
Cal spluttered into his coffee and quickly coughed, wiping his jumper with a tissue. "What?" he said. "Like, a woman?"
Irritated, Sean scooped the foam off his cappuccino into his mouth and looked away. He remembered Dee's firm body as she strapped herself to him for the first few dives...even when he was good enough to go on his own, they'd sometimes do it like that, just for fun. It had been an incredible feeling when, high on adrenaline, they would claw each other's suits off, just enough to fuck fast and hard under the parachute as it settled over them on the field, the feel of Dee's hard little nipples hot against his cold palms as they rode each other to the climax of their lives. It was a shared passion, a drug that sustained their unlikely relationship. Sean had been surprised by the attraction, Dee had been flattered. When Dee had eventually found a more suitable guy, and said goodbye, they had parted on the best of terms.
He shrugged and said, "Yeah, a woman," and left the words hanging there between them as Cal looked away, clearly uncomfortable. "Talking of which," Sean said, emboldened by Cal's blunder, "your wife seems nice."
Cal gulped his coffee again and stared at Sean, as a myriad of emotions played across his face. Eventually he started to giggle, then roared with laughter, shoulders shaking. Sean couldn't help but laugh along, wondering what was going on. Cal wiped tears from his eyes and clutched his stomach. "I needed that" he said, gasping against more giggles. "I haven't had a good laugh in ages." He made a visible effort to be serious and opened his mouth to speak but just as he did, his phone rang and he jumped and snatched it to his ear, but not before Sean had seen "Home" flashing up on the screen.
"Hi...yeah...yeah...right... Well, that's good...OK, I'll be there as soon as I can." Cal hung up and fumbled in his pocket, pulling out a tenner. "I'm sorry...I have to go." His fingers were trembling as he started winding his scarf round his neck, buttoning the coat. Sean stared at him, mystified.
Cal paused on his way to the door, and turned. "Come on" he said, "come with me. It's time I told you everything."