Better late than never :) Photo prompt and my April short story for the Goodreads YA LGBT group...
I loved the early morning quiet, the calm
stillness before anyone else was awake. I
sat at the kitchen table with my book in front of me, my fingers rested lightly
on the text that I wasn’t reading.
Instead I lost myself in memories of family holidays of the past, spent,
like this one, at my grandparents’ cottage on a fairly deserted stretch of the North
Yorkshire coast. Although they’d been gone for several years and the cottage
now belonged to my parents, I still missed them. I always felt close to them here, even now, with
the house full of my university friends rather than family.
Footsteps from the room above the kitchen
pulled me back to the present. I
listened to the creak of the hinges as the door to the bedroom I was sharing
with Paul opened, followed by the groan of the floorboards in the hallway as he
crossed to the bathroom. The boiler in the corner of the kitchen kicked into
life, shortly after to be joined by the sound of water hitting the plastic base
of the shower unit and the gurgle of the drain.
Smiling to myself I put on the kettle and
carefully made a cup of tea, using my finger to gauge when it was full. Smiling to myself, I told Jess to stay where
she lay in her bed by the Aga and headed carefully up the stairs, trying not to
spill anything from the mug I carried.
The hot water from the shower had warmed the
air on the landing; it felt slightly damp against my skin. Breathing in deeply
my nose filled with the familiar scent of the shower gel Paul used. I suddenly
wanted more than anything to be wrapped in his arms, to bury my face into the
crook of his neck and breathe in the same smell, only mixed more strongly with
the smell of his skin. Reaching out with my free hand toward the doorway I was
about to move forward when I heard Paul ask.
“What do you want David?”
“You, I want you. You can do better than Evan, so much better.”
I heard David reply softly. There was a
creak from the bedsprings as he must have lowered himself onto the
mattress. “I could give you much more,”
he continued. “We would be so much better together. Let me show you.”
Tea sloshed over the rim of the mug as I set
it down hastily on the window ledge, before backing away quickly across the
landing from the room we were sharing. I didn’t wait to hear Paul’s reply. I
didn’t want to hear Paul’s reply. I knew what David meant. He was right; Paul
could do so much better than me. David’s
words echoed in my head as I stumbled down the staircase, only the tight grip I
held on the banister prevented me falling.
Using my outstretched hand to guide me
around the kitchen table I headed to the back door. As soon as I lifted Jess’ lead off the hook
by the door I heard her nails scrabble against the laminate as she raced
towards me. The heavy weight of her body
pressed against my knee as I bent to clip it to her harness.
I wanted to run, to get away. But I couldn’t drive; I couldn’t even ride a
bike. I was stuck here. Reliant on others, as I knew I always would be. David’s words stung as I knew them to be the
truth, Paul could do a hell of a lot better than me. He was strong, whole, and in my mind perfect. Surely he should expect the same in a
boyfriend. If I had the courage I would
let him go, let him have what he deserved.
With Jess at my side I hurried across the
garden and out through the wrought iron gate, onto the footpath that led
towards the beach. As we got nearer the
shore the surface over which I walked changed from firm grass covered earth to
the much softer, and harder to walk on, sand.
The rising wind made the long strands of goose grass that covered the
dunes I was now crossing rustle, occasionally I would feel them brush against
the denim that covered my legs.
At the crest of the dunes the sand underfoot
fell away. Still moving forwards I
staggered slightly with sudden change in gradient. I had reached my destination, though I hadn’t
consciously been heading in this direction.
At the bottom of the slope a weathered wooden bench was set so that it
overlooked the sea, sheltered from the worst of the weather the North Sea
coastline could throw at it by the surrounding dunes.
“Go play,” I suggested as I unclipped Jess’
lead.
I listened to her scamper away across the
sand towards the water as I lowered myself onto the seat. The slats of the bench were still wet from
the overnight rain and it wasn’t long before I could feel the dampness seep
through the seat of my jeans. I ran my
hand lightly over the back of the bench until I found the brass memorial plaque.
With the tips of my fingers I traced the familiar names of my grandparents and the
dates engraved upon it. This had been
their favourite place. From courting couple to septuagenarians with their
grandchildren a good deal of holiday time had been spent in this spot.
Turning to face the sea, I could feel the
gentle brush of the spray carried by the breeze. The salinity of it tasting
much more dilute than the thin rills of tears that I hadn’t even realised were
leaking from my eyes. In the distance I
could hear the shrill call of the seagulls over the fall of the waves on the
sand. Despite the weak sunshine that I
could feel against my skin I was shivering.
I don’t know how long I sat there for, replaying
the events in our nine month relationship over in my head. I’d met Paul during Freshers Week. As I’d
stood in the doorway to the main hall of the Students Union, Jess on her
harness next to me, a bunch of large and loud guys had barged their way through
the door knocking me sideways. I’d
staggered, falling against the wall and dropping the hated cane that I had
tucked down by my side where I hoped no one would see. I wasn’t sure if I could find it and was on
the verge of abandoning it and turning tail for my room in halls when a voice
just in front of me had said quietly, “I think this might be yours.”
Taking my empty hand he’d pressed the cane
back into it. I’d thanked him politely
and expected that to be it, but instead of walking away he took my elbow and
started to ask me what societies I was interested in joining. Paul carefully steered me around the hall,
keeping up a steady description of both the stalls and the societies. Without realising it I was soon joining him
in the conversation as we traded questions about the courses we were studying,
our families and home life.
He signed up to the rugby club, climbing
club and photography society then, after finding out what I was studying,
pestered me into joining the music society.
We both joined the cult film society, discovering we had a shared
passion for bad horror movies. Coming
full circle back towards the entrance he steered me towards another stall. When
he spoke again his tone had changed, becoming much more serious. Gone was the
easy laughter and teasing.
“I’m joining the LGBT society,” Paul had
said almost pensively as he dropped my elbow.
In the chatter around us I would probably have missed the comment
altogether had my hearing not been overdeveloped to compensate me for my lack
of sight.
“You’re gay?” I’d kept my own voice quiet as
I asked, but I couldn’t quite keep my surprise out my voice. I’d obviously made assumptions about him
without realising I was doing it.
Mentally I’d pigeonholed based on his height and build, the clubs he’d
signed up for and even the group he’d come in with. He didn’t respond verbally and I wondered if
he’d nodded his head. “Me too,” I told
him, pushing out my elbow away from my body towards him. As I’d hoped I felt his hand take hold of my
arm and steer me towards the stall where we both joined the society.
Over the first few weeks of term we became
good friends. He was in the same halls
of residence and became a frequent visitor to our flat. We met up for lunch and after lectures to
study in the library, sometimes alone but more often with people from our
courses or clubs. He invited me to join
him and his friends when they went out, though I drew the line at clubbing where
the noise and number of people were too much for me. Gradually I found myself coming more and more
out of my shell as my circle of friends and acquaintances grew. In my mind it was all down to Paul.
I’m not sure when I started feeling more for
him than just friendship but at the end of our first term a group of us had
gone to the Christmas Ball where, rather the worse for drink, he’d talked me
into dancing with him. Held in his arms,
feeling the warmth of his body against mine as he we swayed to the music I
admitted to myself that I wanted him more than as just a friend.
Long after the music had stopped and we’d
made our way outside into the bitterly cold December night he’d kept his arm
around me. I was familiar with the
campus lay out, so slightly surprised but not alarmed as he guided me not down
the path that would lead to halls but rather towards the entrance to the
library. Sheltered in the entrance of
the building, his back against the wall said softly.
“There’s something I’ve wanted to do for a
while now.” I could feel his breath
against my face as he spoke. I smiled as
I tilted my face towards him for what would be my first proper kiss.
We’d been together as a couple ever since
and there was no doubt in my mind that I loved him, but what if David was
right, what if he could do better? There was no doubt that parts of our
relationship were one sided, with him having to help me in ways I could never
reciprocate. Did he not deserve a
relationship with someone his equal? If
I really loved him, I had to try to find the strength I needed to walk away, to
give Paul a chance to have what he deserved.
It was only Jess’ bark and the sound of her paws
scrabbling across the wet sand towards me that alerted me that I was not
alone. I flinched as a pair of arms
snaked around my neck and crossed over my chest. As he rested his chin on my shoulder the
familiar scent identified him before he planted a kiss on my cheek.
“Hey,” he said squeezing my gently with his
arms. “You okay?” I didn’t say anything just nodded, my cheek
scraping against his. “Really? Only I
found my cup of tea on the book case.”
When I didn’t reply he let go of me and I
felt him walking round the bench to stand in front of me. He took hold of my hand and pulled me
forwards to my feet.
“Walk with me,” he pulled me towards him
wrapping his arm around my shoulder and with our hips bumping started to move
along the sand.
“He’s right you know,” I blurted out as I
came to a sudden stop. “You could do so
much better than me. You deserve someone
better than me.”
“Stop it!”
“It’s true though isn’t it? You’d be better
off with someone else, someone who.”
“Evan,” he interrupted. His arm lifted from
around my shoulder as I sensed him come round to stand directly in front of
me. Taking hold of me by both arms and
moving in close to me he continued bluntly, “what is the one thing you hate the
most about the assumptions people make about your blindness?”
“That I am helpless, that they think they
know....” my voice trailed off and I felt my cheeks warm as I realised that I
was doing to him what I hated other people to do to me.
“When they think they know what is best for
you without asking, or letting you make your own decisions.” Paul replied for
me. “Okay, so let’s get one thing straight.
I want you, I chose you, I love you and I am not swapping you for anyone
else.”
His arms came up to wrap around me again as
I whispered into his neck, “I love you too.”
