Date: Wed, 16 Jan 2002 19:13:40 -0800
From: musicfan@fiberia.com
Subject: Where Do We Go #42

Disclaimer:

   With the news this past weekend of the separation of Stephen and Eloy,
there was some question on the part of people whether I should continue
this story.  I intend to, though for those who might be fans of the two
singers, some of the upcoming chapters might be uncomfortable.  In my
defense, I will offer the information that the next ten chapters have been
written for months, and so the events within do not reflect current events,
and were only within the imagination of the author.

    Chapter 42 is the next chapter in an ongoing story about Stephen Gately
from Boyzone and Eloy de Jong, formerly of Caught in the Act.  I have no
contact, alas with either gentleman or group, so these chapters exist
within the imagination of the author's mind, combined with public events
that happened during this time.

    At this time, as a fan of both gentlemen, I wish them well and hope
they both find happiness in the future.

   Cheers,

       Musicfan


# # #


     The rest of the day flew by for Eloy once he got off the plane.  The
group was met by a horde of fans at the airport and their security had to
force their way through to get the band to their next commitment in time.
Bastiaan was still mad at Eloy for being late and ignored him in the van
over to the television studio.  Eloy wasn't the type to dwell on things and
shrugged it off.  He knew that Bas wasn't too happy with his new
relationship and that it was taking his attention away from the music.
Eloy happened to disagree with him, but he wasn't going to start an
argument about it.

     As they piled out of the van, Lee held him back, a concerned look on
his face.  "Eloy..."

     "Ja?" He turned to look at his friend.  "What is it?"

     "Are you going to be okay with this tonight?" Lee asked, a frown
furrowing his brow. "With Carlo presenting?"

     "Ja, it will be fine.  Carlo is a professional," Eloy assured him.  It
was going to be the first time they had been on stage together since their
break up and Lee knew that at one time it would have bothered Eloy a lot.
The fact that he seemed so unconcerned bode well for their appearance this
evening.  Lee didn't know who the new man in Eloy's life was, but he was
certainly content with him.  A grin broke over Lee's face as he wrapped his
arm around Eloy and they walked into the studio.  A production assistant
led them to their dressing room. Lee and Eloy met their stylist who clucked
disapprovingly over their appearance, shaking his head.

      "Just what am I going to do with you two?" He asked with an
exasperated sigh.  "Go on, get into your clothes.  I will fix the rest
afterwards."  They walked further into the room, laughing at his reaction.
Ben joined them at the garment rack, making a comment about Bas' attitude.
Eloy just told him to not bother him, and that it would work out fine.
Their management came in, telling them about an important party the
following night.  They all groaned in response, but knew that the Tutti
Frutti parties were certainly the place to get the attention of the media.
Which they needed for this album.

      Once they were in their outfits, they went back to the makeup area so
that Neo could make them look presentable.  Eventually Bastiaan came to
join them, having worked through his sulk.  He sat in the stool next to Ben
and read the local newspaper, catching up on what had happened while they
were out of town.  When they were done Eloy stayed in his chair, determined
to find out what was wrong with Bas.

     "Okay, spit it out," he said, looking in the mirror at his friend.

     "I don't know what you're talking about." Bastiaan said, shrugging.
Eloy continued to stare at him, waiting for an answer.  Eventually he
looked up.  Seeing that Eloy was still waiting for a response he waved the
newspaper.  "All right, I'll tell you.  I just want to know one
thing... are you really that stupid?"

     Eloy blinked.  "Pardon?"

     "You really don't know, do you?" Bastiaan asked bitterly.  He flipped
through the newspaper and held it out to Eloy.  Eloy took it from him,
mystified by his actions.  It was the gossip column, something he never
paid any mind to, but he looked dutifully to see what had his friend so
upset. He saw the usual suspects plastered on the society pages, getting
their pictures in the paper.  There was the occasional comment about this
or that particular starlet who had caused a scandal.  He looked back up at
his band mate.

    "What?" He asked, at a loss for his friend's reaction.  Bastiaan
grabbed the paper out of his hands, ignoring the 5 minute cue from the
runner who came to the door.

    "What?  What?  Look at this!" He said, folding down the page and
thrusting it back at Eloy.  Eloy glanced down at the bottom of the page and
started reading.  It was Magdalen's Sexy Amsterdam Report.

    "This latest little tidbit comes in from a tip from our own Schiphol
Aeroport, where an unnamed pop star was seen making out in a bathroom stall
with another man.  Oh be still, this reporter's beating heart -- if this
one gets out, it would break all the little girls' hearts with the
revelation!  Of course, Magdalen is too much of a lady to pass along such
virulent gossip, but since the source was soooo convincing, I only thought
it fair to pass along the news to my gentle readers...."

    Eloy felt his heart skip a beat as they got the 2 minute warning.
Bastiaan got out of his seat and headed for the door.  He had seen enough
to know it was probably true from Eloy's expression as he read the article.
He was so angry at Eloy for being so stupid.  At the door he paused to toss
one more comment off before heading to the stage. "I hope that's the only
thing we ever see.  If you are ever mentioned in something like that again,
I swear I'll tell them everything I know about you.  Don't you ever take
chances like that again!"

    Eloy closed his eyes for a moment before hearing the hiss of the
assistant stage manager that he get out on stage and into position.  He
dropped the newspaper in the waste bin and quickly left the room.  His mind
was whirling with chaotic thoughts at who might have seen him in the men's
room at the aeroport and he came up with a blank.  Resolutely he put it all
out of his mind, knowing he was going to have to perform.

    Lee gave him a concerned look and he shrugged, shaking his head. Lee
glanced to Bas, who had a sullen look on his face and he got mad that
something had happened that had shaken Eloy.  Tonight was not the time for
Bas to get all high and mighty about whom Eloy spent his time with.  He was
kicking himself for leaving them alone in the dressing room.  He reached
out and gave Eloy a reassuring squeeze on the arm as they could hear
themselves being introduced by the host.

    The song started in the background and they started in on the song "Do
It For Love."  Despite Eloy's turbulent thoughts, they did fine, for which
he was quite relieved.  The producers of the show had also set up an
interview with some fans, so after they performed they sat down on the sofa
with Carlo and talked to the fans.  Ben and Lee made sure that they were in
between Eloy and Carlo.  Eloy was thankful for the brief respite.  He could
feel Carlo's eyes on him constantly as he directed the fans' questions
towards them.  He was grateful for his friends' buffer. Before his
encounter with Bastiaan, he was positive he was going to be fine tonight.
But he was so off kilter after seeing that gossip column that he couldn't
focus worth a damn.

     They got through the show and walked off the stage while Carlo made
the link to the next segment.

      Ben patted Eloy on the back as they headed back to the dressing room.
Eloy smiled wanly, drained by the events of the last hour. He took his time
changing, lost in thought and not keeping track of the time.  The others
left as soon as they finished, eager to go home for a night's rest in their
own beds.  Lee did stay longer, but Eloy waved him off, not wanting to
talk.  With one last concerned look Lee gave him a hug and told him to call
if he needed to talk about anything. He left, leaving Eloy alone with his
thoughts.

      Eloy didn't realise how much time had passed until hands rested on
his shoulders and he looked up to see Carlo meeting his eyes in the mirror.
Carlo started giving him a massage, unknotting all the tense muscles in his
back.  Involuntarily he submitted to Carlo's ministrations, feeling the
muscles loosen up under his probing fingers. He was startled by a kiss on
his neck, and he jerked away from Carlo's hands.

      "Zwijgen," Eloy said, moving away from where Carlo stood. Carlo
stared at him wordlessly, noting the tired lines in his face from the pace
he had been setting.  This was one of the reasons why he hadn't wanted Eloy
to do more promotion.  He tended to burn himself out if he wasn't careful.

      "I can't stop," he replied softly in the same language, pleading with
his eyes. Eloy looked down, unable to meet his gaze. "I miss you."

      "Please, Carlo," Eloy begged. "I'm not coming back.  I can't -- I've
moved on."  Resolutely, he thought of Stephen back in Ireland, waiting
patiently for their next break.  He put up a hand to forestall Carlo.
"There's someone else in my life these days."

      A shadow flickered across Carlo's eyes. "Who?" Carlo half believed
that Eloy was saying that as a delaying tactic.  He stepped past the chair
and Eloy moved backwards to the mirror, the counter at his back.

      "It's not my place to say," Eloy said, wanting to protect Stephen.
"And I'm certainly not going to tell you."

      Carlo cocked his head to one side.  "Is that because there isn't
someone, and you're just saying it to make me go away?"  Deep down, he knew
from Eloy's expression that there was someone else in his life now.  He
held his breath, hoping against hope that it wasn't true, and that he could
find a way to convince Eloy to come back to him.

     "I'm not," Eloy asserted, looking to see if he could get past Carlo
and out the door.  "Please don't do this."

     "Do what?" Carlo asked, his hands outstretched. "Where is this other
man?  Why isn't he with you?  Is it because he's ashamed?"

     "No!" Eloy exclaimed, closing his eyes. "He has other commitments, and
he honors them." Carlo winced at the implication that he didn't adhere to
the same standards. It wasn't far off the mark, since one of the bones of
contention between them had been his lack of commitment when they had made
plans.

    "Is he good in bed?" Carlo asked softly, not wanting to know the
answer, but probing the question like a tongue against a sore tooth. "Can
he make you moan the way I can? Does he do the things you like best?"

    Eloy had a pained expression on his face as Carlo asked each of his
questions.  As he did a mental comparison between Stephen and Carlo, he
found that Stephen was more than a match for Carlo in bed.

    "Yes, yes, and yes!" He said softly, emphasising each answer
definitively. "But you know something, Carlo? I don't find the need to make
comparisons.  Because he is everything I've ever wanted.  What I need. And
I'm going to spend the rest of my life with him."

    Eloy's comments cut Carlo to the quick. "Are you now?" He asked, trying
to maintain a casual air.  He had tried to prepare himself to see Eloy
tonight on the show, but nothing could compare to how he felt when the
curtains had opened, revealing his former lover.  Since Eloy had moved out
he had had a string of lovers, but had remained unsatisfied by each of
them.  He found that nights of partying didn't have the same allure that it
once did.  Not that he would admit to Eloy that sitting at home watching
television was the right alternative. It was Eloy's wish for a sedate home
life that had caused their relationship to grate jarringly. Carlo loved to
be the life of the party, and couldn't live with night after night at home,
doing ordinary things.

     "Ja, I am." Eloy said, lifting his chin in defiance.  He knew he had
scored against his ex-lover, because as hard as Carlo tried to hide it, he
saw the involuntary flinch at his comments.  "I don't want to argue with
you," he said tiredly.  "That's not my aim. Can't you just leave it?" He
asked pleadingly, his hand outstretched in supplication.

     Carlo stared at him for a long moment before turning away.  There was
nothing to say. It had been said before, in each recriminating argument
before Eloy had moved out.  Before he left, he turned back one last time.

     "Who?" was all he asked, his eyes pleading for an answer.

     "It's not my place to say." Eloy said softly, wanting to let him down
easy.  He wasn't the vindictive type, and he knew that Carlo was doing more
harm to himself with his jealousy than anything he could say.

     Carlo walked out of the room, shaking his head in disbelief. It was
inconceivable that Eloy would have found someone so soon. From mutual
friends he had known that Eloy had been brooding a lot.  When he had
stopped going on the party circuit, Carlo had just thought that he had been
sulking, or just trying to avoid him.  But maybe it was because he was now
involved with someone else. It tore at him to think of Eloy with someone
else. To be making love without him.

    He stopped outside in the hall and leaned his head against the wall.
He hadn't thought it would hurt so much to see his former lover. It hurt
more than he was willing to admit. Images flashed through his head of Eloy
over the past five years that they had been together, and he caught his
breath at the pain.

    A sound behind him in the hall made him jerk upright, looking behind to
see who it was.  There was no one there and he was grateful for the
respite.  Eloy still stayed in the dressing room.  Probably to make sure he
was gone first.  With a bitter twist to his mouth he walked down the hall,
determined to push away the pain he was feeling inside.

    Eloy heard the retreating footsteps and sighed.  He hadn't really
wanted to hurt Carlo at all.  It wasn't until he had seen him earlier in
the evening that he knew he wasn't hung up on Carlo anymore.  For so long
he had been emotionally dependent upon the other man that he thought it was
going to be an issue.  But sitting on stage with Carlo answering questions
from the fan was no different than being with any other show host.  He had
felt Carlo's eyes following him throughout the group's appearance, but it
hadn't bothered him.

     A cleaning woman came into the dressing room and gasped when she
realised she had walked in on someone.  He looked up and smiled, waving her
in.  It was about time he headed home.  With an absent goodnight to the
woman standing by the door he picked up his garment bag and walked out of
the room.  When he got outside, the lot was empty, everyone having already
gone home.  He grinned wryly to himself as he came to the realisation that
he had no way of getting home.  Luckily for him, the television studio was
on the edge of the city.  Looking up, he could see the stars shining.  It
was a good night for a walk, and perhaps he could sort through things as he
made his way back home.


* * *

     With a sigh Stephen rolled over and looked at the clock again.  It was
late, and he couldn't sleep.  Eloy hadn't called, and while he was
disappointed, he knew that things were really busy for him.  He tried to be
understanding, knowing that probably Eloy had been so tired after the show
he had probably gone straight to bed.  Still, he couldn't stop another sigh
as he rolled back over and stared at the ceiling.

     In the morning he would go back to Dublin with his sister.  He knew he
wasn't going to have a lot of opportunity to chat with Eloy as had been his
wont the last few weeks.  Certainly not with his siblings and parents
constantly about.

     Threading his arms behind his head he wondered how Eloy's evening had
went.  He knew that Carlo was going to be hosting the show and it worried
him that they might have had words backstage.  He didn't know Carlo very
well at all, other than meeting the few times that Boyzone was doing
promotional work, or when Eloy had still been living with Carlo and he had
called to chat.  He had a feeling that Carlo wasn't the type to lose
gracefully.  He tried to imagine what happened backstage, but his
imagination eluded him.  It was a long time before he finally fell
asleep. . .




The next morning dawned early with Stephen waking up and going for a
morning walk with Soirise.  It had become a habit over the last week or so
to just go out onto the rocky beach and meditate as a start to the day.  He
felt incredibly focused by doing so, and especially when he expected a
stressful day, he knew he needed this time to himself.

     He looked down at his watch, debating whether he should bother Eloy.
He shrugged and pulled out his mobile, dialing in Eloy's number.  It rang
for a long time and he was just about to hang up when the answering machine
clicked on. He smiled as he listened to Eloy's voice on the machine and
waited for the beep.

    "Hey E, it's me.  Just wanted to say hello and see how it went last
night.  I'm probably not going to be able to check my messages until later
tonight, but if you get a chance, drop me a ring just to let me know how it
went.  Love you." He rung off and sat staring out at the sea.  Soirise lay
quietly by his side, having gotten her exercise for the day. He pocketed
his mobile and closed his eyes, feeling the light wind on his face.  The
morning sun felt warm and he smiled slightly while he did his breathing
exercises.  A friend had gotten him started on doing meditation and he
found it made a world of difference.

     He got to his feet and called to Soirise to follow him back to the
house.  By the time he climbed the stairs and went inside, Alan had already
left for the day and Jordan was in the other room playing.  Michelle was
sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in her hand.  Across the table
was Stephen's breakfast waiting for him.  She had seen that he was headed
back and pulled his food out so that it would be nice and warm for him.

     "Good morning," she said with a smile, watching her brother clean
Soirise's feet before allowing her into the house. Soirise bounded over to
where Michelle sat, her nose twitching as it took in the variety of smells.
"Ah, go on you.  None of this is yours.  Sit!" Michelle said, looking down
at the dog.  Soirise obediently dropped her hindquarters to the floor, her
lashing tail whacking the table leg as she stared expectantly at Michelle.
"Don't even think of it."

     Stephen laughed as he picked up his cup of coffee and sipped. "Ah,
just what I needed!"

     "I would think so!" His sister retorted.  "What time did you get up?"

     Stephen shrugged.  "Early, I imagine. I wasn't looking at my watch at
the time."  He sat down and sniffed appreciatively at the breakfast laid
out in front of him.  Michelle laughed as she mentally compared his
reaction to the dog at her feet.

     "I think you've been hanging out with Soirise too long!" She said in
response to his raised eyebrows.  "You both had the same reaction to
breakfast."

     "Oh," Stephen grinned as he dug into the food in front of him. "Well,
she knows quality when she smells it.  So do I."  He winked at his sister
who laughed at him.

     They chatted about different things for a while before getting to the
inevitable trip home. Stephen shrugged when she asked whether he was going
to be able to handle their mother.

     "I'm sure she'll have a go at me for not coming home sooner since I
was in the area.  I'll let her, it will help her wind down." He said
negligently.  Michelle looked at him for a few moments, trying to judge if
that was the way he really was going to take it or whether he was just
putting up a brave front.

     "You know she's going to ask you why you felt like you needed time to
yourself." She said.

     "I know.  Don't worry, I can handle it.  I just don't want you getting
in trouble on my behalf though," Stephen said, putting his cutlery on his
dish and getting up to put it away in the sink.  Michelle told him to leave
it, but he insisted on cleaning it so she wouldn't have to.  Afterwards he
told her he was going up to take a shower and put his things together for
the trip home.  He brushed her shoulder lightly on his way out the door,
pausing in the den to give Jordan a greeting before heading upstairs.

     Michelle sat at the table, lost in thought.  She could hear the water
going on upstairs and shaking herself out of her reverie she got up and
went around the house, tidying up while Stephen got ready.  A short time
later he came down the stairs and she had to smile.  He had a pair of ratty
old jeans on and a ripped t-shirt.  Clothes guaranteed to distract their
mother.

     "You fight dirty," she said with a laugh, coming over to him and
fingering the t-shirt with distaste.  "Really Stephen, couldn't you find
something a little less objectionable?"

     "Absolutely not!" Stephen said with a grin.  She found it endearing
and hugged him impulsively.  "Besides," he whispered into her ear. "Who
else did I learn this tactic from than my bossy older sister?"

      He quickly moved out of her embrace before she could whack him on the
butt.  She pouted at him and flounced away, deciding to ignore his comment.
She almost withheld the knowledge about his hickey, thinking it would serve
him right if their mother saw it and questioned where he had gotten it. But
she knew she couldn't do that.  She followed her brother back upstairs
where he was closing up his bag and leaned on the doorframe as he checked
for anything he might have forgotten.

      "Are you sure you want to go home like that?" She asked casually, one
hip leaning against the door as he turned to look at her in surprise.

     "Like what?" He asked, mystified.  She shook her head and walked over
to where he was standing.  Turning him around to face the mirror, she
pointed out the hickey on his neck.  He blinked, seeing it for the first
time.

     "That," she said, pointing to the offensive mark.  "Don't you think
Mam is going to ask about that?  How are you going to explain that one?"

     He thought about it, smiling inwardly that this was the second time he
had been caught in such a position.  But he also knew that there was no way
he was going to be able to hide it the whole time he was home.  He
shrugged.

     "Maybe that I have an ardent fan who just wouldn't take no for an
answer?" He asked, his eyes sparkling as he looked at his sister's
reflection in the mirror.  "Look, there's no way you're going to be able to
hide that past today.  So, I brazen it out."

      She thought on what he said and realised he had a point.  "Okay.  I
just hope I'm there when she asks you how you got it, though."

      "Who knows?" He said offhandedly as he picked up his bag and preceded
her out of the bedroom.  "Maybe I'll tell her the truth!"  Her snorting
reaction brought another grin to his face as he made his way down the
stairs, his sister trailing after him.

       Calling to Jordan, Michelle told him to get his shoes so they could
go for a ride.  Stephen hefted his garment bag out to the car.  He popped
the boot and put his bag in the back before leaning against the car and
waiting for his sister and nephew to come out.  The sun, which had been
shining earlier in the morning, had retreated behind a light cloud cover
and he found that he didn't need his sunglasses.  He tucked those in the
visor by the passenger seat and waited patiently.

     Not too long afterwards his sister emerged from the house, Jordan
trailing behind her.  "No, you can't take that with you.  If your cousin
sees it you know you'll fight over it.  And I really don't want to deal
with that today at Grandma's house.  Now go put it on the coffee table,
thank you."  She held open the door while he ran back inside and then came
out, hands in his pockets.  Stephen grinned at his stance.  He just adored
his nephew.  While Jordan was sulking now at his mother saying no, he knew
by the time that they got into the car, he would forget all about it.

    Jordan saw his uncle waiting for them and skipped ahead of his mother
down the walk.  "We're going to see Grandma today!"

    "That's right, buddy," Stephen said, leaning down to pick Jordan up and
hug him.  "I think you're looking forward to it!" Jordan hugged him back
and nodded, missing his mother's sotto voce comment that he was the only
one.  Stephen winked at his sister before opening the door and pushing the
seat forward so that Jordan could climb in the back.  "In you go, monkey."

    He got in the front seat and leaned across to open the door for his
sister.  She smiled in thanks and got in, pulling her long skirt out of the
way of the door jam before closing the car door.  She made sure that
everyone was wearing their seatbelts before leaving, glancing into her
mirror to make sure that Jordan had done it properly.

    "All set?" She asked.  When she got nods, she started the car and got
onto the main road back to Dublin.  By this time the sun had disappeared
behind some darker clouds.  Stephen didn't say much on the ride over,
letting Jordan chatter in the backseat about different things as they
drove.  They reached the city soon enough, Michelle pulling into the
traffic lane and heading for the north side of the city.

    In short order they were pulling onto the street that their parents
lived on and Michelle pulled in front of the house.  "You ready?" She asked
as she glanced over at her brother.  He nodded and opened up the car door.
Jordan scrambled out of his side of the car as Michelle got out and went to
the back to open the boot.  She reminded Stephen to get his sunglasses and
he went back to the passenger side to retrieve them from the visor.
Meanwhile, she pulled his bag out of the boot and dropped it onto the
sidewalk with a groan.  He laughed and picked it up, leading the way to the
house.

    Their mother was there at the door, watching her children's antics with
a small smile.  She offered her cheek to her son for a kiss before leaning
down to pick her grandson up.

    "Oof little man, you're getting heavy!" She exclaimed, smiling at her
daughter as she held the door open for them to enter.  Stephen walked into
the entryway and took his bag up the stairs to the room that he shared with
his brother.  When he walked through the door he had to wade through piles
of clothes that Tony had left behind.  He sighed, staring about the room.
Hearing his mother and sister's voices downstairs, he knew he had better go
downstairs.  He dropped his sunglasses on the nightstand and headed back
down, finding his family in the kitchen.

    His mother and sister were sitting at the table.  Jordan had run off
into the small yard outside, chasing the pigeons that were there. Margaret
wasn't aware of her son coming into the room until he wrapped his arms
around her neck and gave her a big hug.

    "Oh, that was fast!" she said, giving his arms a slight squeeze. "Come,
sit down darling."  He moved away and sat on the other side of the table.
He was hoping to avoid her giving him a hard time about not coming home
right away.  So far, it was going well.  He sat quietly, listening to his
mother and sister chat about different people they knew.  Occasionally
Jordan would run into the house with some treasure he had found and
Michelle would shoo him back out the door with it.  Finally they ran out of
things to talk about and their mother turned and looked at Stephen.

    "And what have you been up to lately?" she asked, keeping her tone
mild.  Stephen had a feeling that eventually they would have it out,
because he felt like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, and it was
still hanging over his head.

    "Work, mostly." He said idly poking a piece of fruit until Michelle
moved it out of his way so he wouldn't bruise it. "We've been recording the
new album in London."

    "And how's that going?" His mother asked, noticing the nervous way he
played with the tablecloth, folding and unfolding it over and over again.
She knew he was expecting to be yelled at and she was determined to find
out why he felt the need to come home to Ireland and stay with his sister
instead of coming home to the rest of the family.  She was hurt that he
didn't even tell her his plans.  Even if he did want some quiet time to
himself, to be in the country for over a week without a word cut her to the
quick.

    "Slow," Stephen admitted.  "But Louis wants us to hook up with some
producers in the States.  He thinks it would be great for the music."  He
got more enthusiastic as he described some of the plans for the upcoming
weeks and she felt a pang at the thought of her son running off again when
he was barely home.

    "When's this going to happen?"  She asked, trying to get a sense of how
long he was going to be home for this time.

    "When I get back in town," he said vaguely, hedging.  He looked up and
saw the look on her face.  Bracing himself, he knew he was going to have to
confront her about this whole trip rather than let her pull each of the
answers out of him one by one.  "Mam, we're taking a bit of a break, but
I've made some plans to go visit friends.  Michelle offered to let me stay
at her place for a little while because she knew I needed some time to just
decompress."

    "Decompress?" His mother said sceptically.  "You can't do that here?"

    "No, Mam, I can't.  I needed time to wander a beach, to sit and stare
at the ocean.  To get my head together.  Things were pretty hectic and
sometimes coming home isn't the answer."  He put a hand out, covering his
mother's hand and pleading with his eyes to her.  "Sometimes there's just
too much going on here.  Too many people coming in and out and no place to
just sit and think sometimes.

    "Plus, I've been thinking that it's high time I got a place of my own,"
he plunged on.  He knew she was going to jump to conclusions, but he didn't
want his sister in trouble for what was his idea. "Mam, I'm 21. High time
that I was in me own place, don't you think?  I got the idea when I was in
London, because I see all of this stuff that I like, but I have no place to
put it.  So I asked Michelle if she and Alan could look for a place that
might be good for me."  He watched his mother's face and saw that she was
completely distracted from the topic of his absence. "Jimmy Norton has been
driving me nuts now about investing in something, and well, it just seems
like it's about time I was off on my own.  All the other lads are.  It's
beginning to turn into a bad joke with the rest of them, now."

    "What, you listen to what that lot says?" his mother scoffed, but she
had to acknowledge that there really wasn't much room here in the house.
Half the time Stephen came back, he hadn't been able to get in his room
because her mother-in-law was staying over.  And knowing the way that Tony
took care of his room, she knew how hard it must be to have to share a room
with the mess he lived in.  But it pained her to think that yet another of
her children was leaving the house.  It had been worse since Alan had moved
back into the house again, having lost his job due to some misunderstanding
with the manager.  "Ah Stephen, do you really have to?  You're hardly home
as it is.  Would it be worth it to go through that kind of expense?"

     "It would get Jimmy off my back," Stephen said with a rueful grin.  He
was feeling that he had successfully dodged the bullet and was more
relaxed.  He did feel guilty at withholding the information about his new
love interest, but based on past experience, he had a feeling it wasn't
something that she would want to know.  "And Mam, they've found some very
lovely places.  Michelle should take you for a drive so that you can see
them for yourself."  Several times in the past he had tried to get his
parents to take the present of a new home, but they had steadfastly refused
to leave the old neighbourhood.  Eventually he gave up trying, because he
knew they'd never change their minds.  But maybe if they saw the kind of
place he was looking at that they might see that it was a good idea for
them, too.  It wasn't like he didn't like coming home, but he knew he could
give them so much better, if only they'd let him.

    Michelle began describing the different houses they had looked at.  In
the meantime, their mother got up and started putting supper together,
making a nice stew for the evening meal.  They heard the front door slam
shut as someone came into the house and Alan walked through the door a
short time later.

    "Look what the dog dragged in!" Alan exclaimed, patting his younger
brother on the shoulder as he walked behind him and over to the
stove. "Well, at least you don't look as bad as you did the last time you
were here."

    "Thanks. I think," Stephen said with a wry grin. "Nice to be back home
in the bosom of my family."  He and Michelle exchanged a look before he
looked down again.  Alan kept on making remarks that he thought were funny,
but to which no one was laughing.  Stephen figured if he ignored it, Alan
would eventually shut up.  Finally he stood with his back to the china
cabinet and a cup of tea in his hand and he stood looking at Stephen.

    "What?" Stephen asked, looking at his older brother.

    "Who the hell have you been with that you got a hickey?" Alan asked.
Stephen saw the look on his mother's face and put his head down on the
table with a groan.

    "Alan, you really are a prat, aren't you!" Michelle said, furious that
he could be so thoughtless.

    "What?" He asked, mystified.  Michelle turned around in her chair and
swatted him, giving a glance towards their mother, who looked none too
pleased now that it had been pointed out to her.

     Margaret looked at her younger son who had his face in his hands.  His
reaction was truth enough about what he had been up to.  She reached out a
hand and touched his shoulder.  He looked over at her and she pushed him
upright, turning his face towards her so that she could see the mark for
herself.

    "Is this the reason why you needed some time to yourself?" She asked
quietly.  The mark was faded somewhat, but quite obvious once it was
pointed out.  She had missed it earlier because she had been sitting away
from it.  "To hide this?"

    Stephen looked at his mother, at a loss for what to say. Michelle
started to say something and their mother held up her hand to stop her.
She didn't want to hear what her daughter had to say.  She wanted to hear
what Stephen had to say.

    "No, it isn't the reason why.  I told you already." Stephen said
quietly, looking his mother in the eye. "I feel sometimes that I come home
and I can't even hear myself think.  Michelle asked me to come stay and
spend some time with her and Jordan.  I accepted.  That's all that there is
to it."

    "And where did you get that?" His mother asked, indicating the mark
with her chin.

    "I don't think you want to really know that, do you?" Stephen said,
still looking at her steadily. "After all, it wouldn't be the first time
you didn't want to hear about someone I was interested in."  He felt a pang
as he said it, but he had thought long and hard about this. He didn't want
to hide anymore.  Didn't want to not tell his family about his life.  He
had done it for so long and he didn't want to do it anymore.

    "Do you really feel like that?" His mother said softly, a hurt look on
her face.  Slowly he nodded, trying not to bite his lip.  He wanted to take
back what he said, because the last thing he wanted to do was hurt his
mother, but he felt like he had to say how he felt. "That I don't want to
know that there's someone special in your life?"

    "That's the feeling I've gotten in the past," Stephen said
softly. "Mam, I really don't want to go into this.  I don't want to hurt
you, and if I just tell you about it Alan will tell me to stop because it
bothers you to hear that I'm interested in another man, and not the girl
you would like for me to be interested in."

    Alan started to protest and stopped when Stephen put up his
hand. "Don't even start," he said with a warning tone. "You've done it in
the past, don't you deny it."  He turned his attention back to his
mother. "Do you really want to know?"

    She stared at him wordlessly for a moment, torn between knowing that he
really wanted her to say yes, and not wanting to know. Alan saw her
reaction and protectively moved over to her.

    "Why do you do this, Steve?  Can't you see she doesn't want to know?
That it hurts her to know her son likes shagging other men?" He looked down
at his brother, disgusted with what he was doing. "Why can't you think of
anyone other than yourself?"  He pushed Stephen's shoulder, shoving him
back in his chair. Their mother put out a hand to stop him and he pushed
her back. "No, this needs to be said."

    "No it doesn't!" Michelle said, furious with her brother.

    "No it doesn't, indeed." Stephen said.  He shoved his chair back and
stood up.  His brother still towered over him, but he stared up at him
defiantly. "Alan, you're full of shite.  You know, I don't really care what
you think.  Was I talking to you? No.  I was talking to Mam." He turned to
his mother, his hand against his brother's chest. "Do you see why I wanted
some time to myself?  At this point, why the feck do I bother, with this
kind of reaction? I'm out of here."

     He pushed his brother away and walked out the door, his sister calling
after him.  She stopped him as he got to the front door.

     "Come on, let's go home."  She urged, tugging on his arm.  He looked
at her blindly, not seeing her at all.

     "I just need to get out of here.  I need some air." He brushed her
away and opened the front door, walking out on the street.  A neighbor
called to him, but he ignored the voice calling out to him, heading down
the walk and out onto the street.  His sister stood in the doorway,
watching him worriedly as he turned the corner and went out of sight.  She
let the door close behind her with a bang and returned to the kitchen.

    "I hope you're happy, Alan Gately." She said, disgust in her
voice. "All he did was come home and you have to start."  Alan shrugged,
not listening to his sister.  She and their brother were two peas in a pod,
and you could never say one thing bad without the other jumping to their
defense.  He refilled his cup with some hot water, not noticing the tears
in his mother's eyes.