After Edward

At breakfast the following morning, Teddy looked distinctly cross. There were some ‘frown’ lines on his forehead that I hadn’t noticed before. “What’s the matter with you?” I asked but he just glowered at me, his one remaining eye looking almost balefully accusing.

“I’m going to Dover at the end of the week,” I said. “If you cheer up, I’ll take you with me.” That didn’t seem to make any difference and I left for work without saying anything else.

In the Underground I looked out for the young guy whom I had ‘met’ the previous week though whether it was to avoid him or to carry on from where we had left off, I didn’t want to ask myself. In any event, of course, I didn’t see him.

I went into conference with my boss about what I needed to do at the Dover office – basically make sure that everything was running smoothly – the annual inspection he called it. The annual ‘snoop’, they would probably think of it as.

“There’s a guy called Jim Daniels who will look after you,” said my boss. “See you’re all right. Show you around, if you know what I mean.”

I knew Jim Daniels from e-mails and conversations over the phone though I’d never met him. His voice sounded sibilant and I thought he was probably gay. Was everyone trying to get me into bed with someone else?

So there I was, in Dover, on the Friday evening, walking along the Marine Parade, the sea on my right, waves slowly rolling in and breaking, tall Victorian houses, mostly turned into hotels on my left, ahead the road rising to the tops of the white cliffs and Dover Castle.

It had been a long day. Jim Daniels, his gayness confirmed though not predatory – he had a long-established live in lover to whom I had been introduced – hadn’t been the slightest bit upset at my probing into what was in fact HIS part of the business. What I had seen had been perfectly kosher. He was doing a good job and my report to the boss would be, after I finished the job on Monday, very creditable. Probably result in a rise for Jim.

He’d been a good companion too, taking me to lunch – with the boyfriend – at a very good vegetarian restaurant and offering to show me around in the evening. But I thought I’d explore on my own in spite of Jim’s protestations. In the end he’d agreed, given me a list of gay places obviously, with a wink, assuming that I wanted to do a bit of trawling on my own and wished me good luck.

I left Teddy in my hotel room, which was like all hotel rooms, comfortable enough but obviously a commercially decorated and furnished room with bathroom en suite. The evening was fine, the air, to my town-accustomed nostrils, fresh and ozone tinted. Ozone of course is a gas given off by an electric discharge and has nothing to do with the seaside, but the smell of the sea and probably rotting seaweed gives a deceptive imitation of the aroma. Gulls screamed and floated overhead in the air currents.

OK. I was lonely. I was away from home where I’d been for months, alone certainly but there surrounded by familiar objects so that I had been sad but not with this completely alone feeling. I wondered why I had refused Jim’s offer which now seemed stupid, but the thought of gay bars or clubs, heaving with liveliness and mankind on the desperate hunt for a dream, was equally repellent.

So I wandered along the street, which was full, it being still early evening, of people on their various missions, looking for a good time, on their way to meet friends, loved ones or, perhaps equally lonely as I was.

My mobile phone rang. I had switched it on during the day in case my boss had wanted a ‘private’ word with me rather than using the public telephone in the office and had forgotten to switch it off. Ross’s number showed on the screen. For a moment I thought of switching it off without answering but after all he was fifty miles away and I felt the need to talk to someone.

“Hi, Ross,” I said, “sorry I haven’t been in touch. Been busy.”

But it wasn’t Ross’s slightly nasal twang that answered. Instead a voice I remembered and which gave me a jolt of alarm (was it?) or pleasure. “Mark, Leander here. Thought you might like to meet up again.”

Suddenly I realised that that was exactly what I would like to do, wanted to do. “I’m really sorry,” I said regretfully. “I’m not in town at the moment. I’m in Dover. It’s a bugger. I could do with some company.” What was I saying? But I knew I was safe with all that distance between us.

And then of course I wasn’t.

“Dover,” he said. “But that’s just down the M20. I know it quite well. I could be with you in under an hour. Where are you staying?”

I couldn’t protest. Perhaps I didn’t want to. “The Kensington,” I said. “It’s in Townwall Street.”

“I know it,” said Leander. “I’ll meet you in the bar. Seven thirty at the latest.”

And here I am. Waiting. Feeling slightly scared. I’ve changed into a blue shirt and tight white trousers. I know they’re a bit old-fashioned but they show me off to my best advantage, I think. I told Teddy about Leander coming all the way from London and the frown lines have gone. Honest. And it almost looks as if the corners of his mouth have turned up a bit. Smiling? Course not, but that’s what it looks like. I don’t know what Leander and I will do, whether we’ll go out and have a meal, or go to a club, or – possibly I’ll ask him up to my room. I think that’s what Edward hopes – I mean Teddy. What a stupid mistake to make.

I’m really feeling quite nervous and shy which is idiotic. It’s not as if I’m a teenager on my first date. I’m experienced, know my way around. I won’t stammer and stutter when I see him, look gauche and terrified. I’ll manage things with suave sophistication, look him straight in the eye – and melt!

Oh God. Here he is, just come in through the door. He’s smiling. He’s beautiful.

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