Date: Thu, 29 Jul 2004 11:36:37 +0100 From: Drew Hunt <drew.hunt@blueyonder.co.uk> Subject: The House On The Hill 24 This work is copyright. I have given permission for a copy of this story to be placed on the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement. But This work may not be copied or archived onto any other website or newsgroup without the prior written permission of the author. This story is fiction, it didn't happen, to the best of the author's knowledge no one in the story exists in real life. If you have a problem with reading stories of a homosexual nature, then bugger off. Also you shouldn't read on if you are below the age of consent, or you have the misfortune to reside in an area where reading and downloading this kind of material is against the law. * * * * * Acknowledgements * * * * * I wish to publicly thank the following people for their help and friendship before, during and after the writing of this story. John, Tom and Lars, you three wonderful people have given me the confidence to continue to put out my work, correcting all those little errors which I don't seem to spot. Dave, my cowboy, thank you for all your kindness and love, and well, just for being there for me. You have made more of a difference to my life than you will ever know. Bob, although you call me your sunshine, you're the one who has provided me with so much light and warmth. Last, but by no means least, I want to thank Outback Matt for his tireless support and messages of good will, you're a true mate, Cobber. Chapter 24 "Martin, you know you said you wanted to pay us a visit and meet Carl? Well, why don't you come up from London and spend New Year's Eve with us? We're thinking of throwing a party." Robbie was on the phone to his old friend Martin Harris. Robbie and Carl had been discussing what they'd done at New Year in the past. Both had admitted that the last few had been rather bland affairs. Carl said that he usually stopped at home, as it was difficult to get a baby-sitter. He would just plonk himself down in front of the TV and drain a few cans. Robbie confessed since Patrick's death, he'd always tried to be asleep when midnight struck. As both men were now very happily partnered, they decided to see in 2001 in style. "It's only November!" Martin complained. "Yeah, but you know me. Mr Organised." "Don't I just. Well, so long as you can provide a bed for me, I'll come up sometime on the day of New Year's Eve. I might, just might have someone with me." "Oh?" Robbie probed. "I'm not saying any more, it might not come off, I don't want to put the mouth on it." "You've never been so superstitious before." "No, well it's . . . well, you'll just have to wait and see." Martin had quite literarily fallen into the lap of his current boyfriend, Bruce Cameron. Although the 'l' word hadn't yet been used, Martin was fervently hoping that his growing attraction to the five feet eight inch heavy-set and wonderfully hairy Scotsman would lead somewhere. Martin had met Bruce in a pub; he'd turned away from the bar, pint of bitter in hand. He'd tripped on the leg of a bar stool, and landed both himself and his drink in Bruce's lap. Despite such an unpropitious beginning, Martin and Bruce, once he'd dried himself, had begun to talk. This had lead to them both going back to Bruce's 'for coffee'. To Martin's amazement, the relationship hadn't ended when the two had awoken the next morning. "Okay, love," Robbie said, knowing he wasn't going to get any more dirt out of his friend. He hoped Martin wouldn't be too hurt when the inevitable break-up happened. Once he'd put down the phone, Robbie put a tick next to Martin's name on his guest list. Turning to Carl, he asked, "There's one thing, I'm having the party catered, Sarah isn't going to lift a finger." "Well, I'll leave you to tell her that." Although he and Sarah got on very well, Carl admitted to still being a bit afraid of her. She was fiercely protective of Robbie and latterly Ben. Sarah was also, unbeknown to Carl, rather protective of him, too, though of course she'd never tell him that. Robbie laughed. "Okay, if the caterers promise to leave her kitchen spick and span, I think I might be able to talk her into it." "Okay, babe." Carl wasn't fully convinced. "I wonder if Ben wants to invite anyone? Apart from Josh I mean." Robbie giggled remembering all the times he'd seen Ben and Josh together, seemingly joined at the hip. "Well, there's that Morgan kid, our Ben seems to knock about with him sometimes," Carl observed. "Yeah." Robbie put Morgan's name on his guest list. At least as he lived locally, he wouldn't need a bed. * * * * * Morgan was dismayed to learn that he would have to wait until January before he could move schools, but buoyed up by his mother, who seemed to be far happier now her husband George was, at least temporarily out of the picture, Morgan accepted the news with good grace. The frequent chats with Darren also helped Morgan to get through the remainder of the autumn term. The two would either Instant Message or telephone one another, Sue occasionally grabbing a quick word with Darren when he telephoned. She was beginning to realise that Morgan needed a positive male role model in his life, something George most certainly didn't provide. To his delight, Morgan's circle of friends also expanded. Ben, who had felt guilty about shutting Morgan out of his life, made a determined effort to be around more often, and wherever Ben went, Josh came along, too. So Morgan had another friend. Although they were studying slightly different syllabuses, Morgan, Ben and Josh would occasionally meet up to do their homework together. The one downside to this arrangement was that Ben and Josh couldn't be as affectionate with one another as they would have liked. Neither boy was anywhere near comfortable enough to share their secret with a third friend. "I can't wait until I can be with you guys all the time," Morgan repeatedly said, referring to his moving to their school. "Yeah," Josh replied, a little uneasily. Although Morgan was okay, he was a bit too nerdy for Josh's tastes, but as he loved Ben so much, he put up with him. Josh confessed his feelings about Morgan to Ben one evening over the telephone. "He's, well, I dunno, a geek. Apart from school work, all he talks about is computers and that Darren bloke." "I know, when I was at school with him, all we really talked about was chess. He was in the chess club with me." "What're we gonna do when he's with us all the time?" Josh asked, not knowing if he could cope with it. "Well, we'll have to hide in the lavs whenever we see him coming." Ben giggled. "Yeah." Ben could hear Josh's grin down the phone. "I think he'll be alright, he'll spend a lot of his time with his head in a book. I didn't see that much of him at middle school." "Good," Josh said, a little relieved. * * * * * Sue Smith knew that the time would soon come when Morgan would ask to spend the weekend at Darren's. She was surprised when the request came, that she wasn't turned off by the idea. Darren had offered to put her up, too. Sue, though still apprehensive, said that it wouldn't be necessary. Darren insisted that she stop for tea on Friday night, at least. This was something Sue was more than willing to do. Darren had the idea that he'd tell Mrs Smith during the meal that he was gay, but posed absolutely no threat to Morgan. If she was uncomfortable about his sexuality, then she had the option of removing Morgan, though Darren knew that this wouldn't help Morgan and Sue to get along. * * * * * Before Morgan and Sue's arrival, Darren spent Friday afternoon cleaning up his flat. It wasn't particularly untidy, but there was only ever him in it, and he knew that the place shouted 'single bachelor', something he knew Sue Smith would spot straight away. Darren vacuumed, polished, swept and cleaned the medium-sized, two bedroomed flat from top to bottom, hoping to make a good impression. He was exhausted by the end of his labours, and collapsed into a chair. 'Shit, I didn't get anything in for tea!' Darren leapt out of his chair. He didn't want Sue to think that his diet consisted solely of junk food. Darren knew how to cook; William had spent many an hour coaching him, but as he lived on his own, he didn't often make the effort. As he got to his front door, Darren wondered if he should walk down to the Arndale shopping centre, or take the car. Although the car would make the journey much faster, it was Friday, and the car park would no doubt be full to overflowing. 'No,' Darren decided to walk. On entering the shopping centre, Darren headed for WH Smith; there was a Metallica CD he wanted to buy for Morgan. Darren thought himself more of a classic rock kind of a guy, but he'd put up with anything if it meant he could spend time with his cyber son. After the CD was duly purchased, Darren headed for Tesco. Although they had a few small trolleys, Darren didn't want that much, so he took a basket. Not knowing what Sue liked, and also wishing to show her that he would make Morgan eat his vegetables, something the pre-teen disliked, Darren decided to rustle up a pot of vegetable soup. Once it was cooked, he could wiz it up in the blender, so there wouldn't be any lumps for Morgan to complain over. Therefore Darren chose a selection of vegetables before moving on to the chiller cabinets, where he picked out a pack of boneless pork chops. The next-door fridge held various types of fresh pasta. Deciding to play safe, Darren opted for plain tagliatelle. His purchases made, Darren wended his way back home. * * * * * Much to his relief, Darren's coming out wasn't a problem at all. "Yes, well, actually you being as you are, might be a blessing where our Morgan's concerned," Sue said as the two adults cleaned up the kitchen after tea, Morgan being busy listening to his new CD in the living room. "Oh?" Darren asked, not following. "Well, I might be wrong, but I think our Morgan might be gay, too, but he's never said anything to me, so I can't be sure." Darren remembered Morgan's confession to him, but he knew he couldn't disclose his knowledge. "Well, he's still rather young." Darren wasn't totally convinced Morgan knew his sexuality for certain, anyway. Morgan had lived a very sheltered life; he hadn't been exposed to much life experience, so there was still time. "Yes, but, well, something Morgan doesn't know is that my brother Henry was gay, I was the first person he told. My parents took the news really hard; things were very uncomfortable at home after that. As soon as he could, our Henry left home and joined the army." "The army?" Darren was a little surprised at the career choice. "Yes, he probably thought it would straighten him out, but of course it didn't. He was killed over in Northern Ireland on his 21st birthday." "Oh Sue, I'm sorry." "Thanks. Although Henry was eighteen when he left home, Morgan's sudden disappearance last month, well, I couldn't help drawing parallels, you know?" "Yes." "Well, if our Morgan does turn out to be gay, I don't want him to face the hostility at home which our Henry suffered. Now George is out of the picture, actually, I've seen a solicitor about beginning divorce proceedings . . ." "Oh Sue, I'm sorry." Darren dried his hands from the washing-up water and put a hand on her shoulder. "Oh, it's okay, I should have done it years ago. George and I were never meant to be a couple. But what I was saying is that I want Morgan to grow up to know that his sexuality is accepted by his family, we love him no matter what." "That's the best gift you can give him. My mum knows about me, but finds it hard to accept. Dad died when I was small, so he was never part of the equation, but when I began to work for William in the shop, he kind of acted like a father to me." "Yes. I know Morgan looks upon you as some kind of a father figure, and if it's okay with you, I'd like that to continue. Morgan will need a positive male role model, and if he turns out to be gay, well, a positive male role model who is also gay would be even better." "Yes, thanks." Darren couldn't believe how accepting Sue was being. It made him a little sad that his own mother wasn't more like this woman, but there were plenty of things to feel happy about. Sue accepted him as being gay, and best of all she wanted him to play a role in Morgan's upbringing. On balance, things couldn't be better. "Anyway, now the traffic will have died down, I better be thinking about making a move home," Sue said, stacking the last of the crockery away. "I'd have thought you'd have a dish washer." "Oh, with just me, it never seemed worth it." The two walked into the lounge, Morgan reduced the volume of the CD player, and Sue told her son that she was heading off home. * * * * * "What about those friends of Martin's, um, Liam and Ernest? Do you want to invite them, too?" Carl asked. He'd spoken to the pair a couple of times on the phone, and they seemed decent enough guys. "Yeah, they could sleep in my old room, I think," Robbie said, doing a quick mental check; if everyone came, he'd have a houseful. "I thought we were going to put your Uncle Cedrick in there." "He'll leave his bag in there, but he'll want to sleep on an air mattress next to the Christmas tree." "What?" Carl said in surprise. "He's rather eccentric." "Sounds like it. Mind you, I don't suppose any well-to-do family like yours would be complete without at least one oddly behaved member, all that inter-breeding." Carl saw Robbie building up into one of his indignant moods. He knew Robbie was always rather sensitive about anyone teasing him about his family. Leaning forward, Carl treated Robbie to a deep kiss on the lips. "I was teasing you, my love. I knew you'd get upset, but you know I didn't mean it." Robbie relaxed. "Yeah, sorry. I shouldn't be so sensitive. But in a way you're right, Uncle Ced is the relative that everyone pokes fun at. He's completely harmless, really. I'm sure Ben will love him, he's great with kids, probably because he's so much like one himself." "Okay, love. Do you want to ring Liam and Ernest, to see if they want to come up? They're bound to have other plans." Robbie flicked through the pages of his address book and dialled. Liam answered, and after the usual pleasantries had been observed, Robbie got down to business and asked if the pair had any plans for New Year. "We don't, but there might be a problem," Liam said. "Oh?" "My son Shamus is living with us now, and he's, well, he's a bit of a handful." Robbie didn't know that Liam had a son. "Oh, erm, right. Well, he's very welcome to come, too. How old is he?" "Thirteen going on thirty-five. Oh, sorry, you don't know about him. Well, before I travelled over the water, I had, well, um, a friend of mine got pregnant, but when I couldn't face marrying her, I decided it was best if I left town. Shamus was born, but I've had little contact with him. Louise, his mother, is getting married, and her husband-to-be doesn't want someone else's child around, so Shamus was packed off and now lives with us." "Oh, that's good. It is good, isn't it?" Robbie couldn't read Liam's tone of voice. "Shamus is very bitter. He somehow thinks it's all my fault that he's separated from his mother, and, oh, it's all very complicated." "Right, I see. Well, have a think about coming up anyway, we should be able to provide you, Ernest and Shamus with overnight accommodation, though Shamus might need to sleep on a sofa or an airbed." "Leave it with me. If I bribe the little monster enough, he might agree to it." "Okay then, let me know as soon as you can," Robbie said, putting down the phone and placing a question mark against Ernest and Liam's names on his list. "Rob, if we invite people like Morgan, you know, those who aren't family, well, it could make things, well, not as comfortable," Carl said. "True. I best have a word with his mother before I make the invite. She's usually around when I drop Josh off in the afternoons." * * * * * Robbie's plans to host Morgan for New Year's Eve suited Sue Smith very well. She'd been given an invite to a party hosted by friends, but wasn't sure if she could accept; now Morgan would be doing something, it left her free to go out. Though she knew Darren would have had Morgan stay with him in a minute. She quickly reassured Robbie that Morgan would fit in well with the gathering, she was also pleased that her son would be spending time with people his own age. "Okay, then you can consider yourself invited," Robbie said to a grinning twelve year old. * * * * * * "We might as well ask the Blake's, as well as Ian and Ralph when we see them on Saturday," Robbie said looking down at his list. "Yeah, same for Eric and Larry, too," Carl added. "Love?" Robbie looked up from his list. "Yeah?" "Thanks, well, I mean, I, before we got together, I didn't think I'd have looked forward to this Christmas and New Year all that much." Robbie smiled. "Me too. And it doesn't matter what you're going to get me for Christmas, because," Robbie climbed into Carl's lap, "it won't compare to the gift you gave me this summer." He placed his palm onto Carl's left chest and felt the strong and constant vibration. "Car, that was the most awesomely wonderful gift, something I only thought I'd ever dream of getting." Leaning forward, Carl lightly bit down on Robbie's lower lip. "Rob." Carl kissed Robbie's eyes. "I, I just don't have the words, but you are the world to me, Robert James Foster. Deep down, you always were." Robbie smiled up into the strong and handsome face of his lover. "Thanks." "And anyway, I've already gone out and bought you your Christmas present." Carl had spent a long time, not to mention quite a lot of money, money he'd earned himself, on a Victorian desktop chronometer. Knowing that Robbie was passionate about computers, Carl knew there was little point in him getting anything in that line, Robbie already had it all. But passing an antiques shop one day, he'd spotted the time piece; it even showed the date, phases of the moon and other things Carl didn't quite understand, but as soon as he saw it, he knew it was perfect for Robbie's desk. "What is it? What's my present? I want my present!" Robbie said, adopting the voice of a small child. "It's a big wooden paddle to keep little boys in line," Carl said, lightly smacking Robbie's bottom. "Aw, daddy's not being fair." Robbie stuck out his bottom lip, which Carl bit gently. "You'll have to wait and see." * * * * * Christmas passed in a blur of endless eating, drinking and exclaiming over gifts. Even Lady had a stocking of doggy treats under the tree to unwrap. Though she made a valiant effort to rip off the paper herself, Ben gave her a helping hand with it. Carl was rather relieved that the squeaky toy which came in the stocking had been punctured by Boxing Day; he wasn't sure if he could have stood listening to it for much longer. * * * * * New Year's Eve finally dawned. Sarah, though pleased to be given the night off, kept a close watch over the caterer as he invaded her domain. Ronald Lindsay was more than a match for Sarah, though. He knew precisely how to handle her; he treated Sarah with honoured respect. Robbie watched, fascinated, as Sarah became putty in his hand, as she disclosed long held secrets from everything on how she managed to prevent her custards from curdling, to the best method of preparing fruit for bottling. * * * * * The guests began to arrive. First was Martin, with his kilted Scotsman in tow. "Oh, it isn't fancy dress," Robbie said on seeing Bruce. "Laddie," Bruce's glare bored into Robbie. In his thickest and virtually impenetrable Glaswegian accent, he continued. "This is no fancy dress, it's genuine Cameron tartan, and I am entitled to wear it." "Oh, yes, sorry." Robbie thought he'd made an enemy for life now. He knew how proud the Scots were of their traditions. "Look come on in, it must be a mite draughty in that," Robbie said pointing in the general direction of the kilt; he resisted the urge to ask Bruce if he was wearing anything under it. "No," Martin whispered as he passed Robbie, "A real Scotsman doesn't." "Well, you'd be the one to know," Robbie said, trying to stifle a giggle. Liam and Ernest soon followed Martin and Bruce, with a rather sulky teenager in tow. "Glad you three could make it. I've put you two in my old bedroom," Robbie said to Liam and Ernest. "Now Shamus," Robbie said, taking the black-haired teenagers hand and giving it a squeeze, "I've put you in the Chinese room. The decor is a bit, well, oriental, but I don't think it'll give you nightmares." "Good, at least I won't have to share a room with those two, then," Shamus said, glowering at his father and Ernest. "Shamus, you promised." Liam said in a warning tone." "Well, I didn't want to come to this poxy party with a load of poofs, anyway." "That's enough young man." Liam turned to Robbie. "Could you show us to our rooms please? I need another word with this young man, he needs to learn his manners." "Oh, err, yes of course," Robbie said, leading the way up the stairs. "I'm sure Ben won't mind it if you play on his computer, or use any of his video games." "Gee, thanks," Shamus said. Liam, not normally a violent man by nature, had an almost irresistible urge to clip Shamus round the ear. He knew the lad resented being uprooted from his mother and his life in rural Ireland, but there wasn't that much either of them could do about it. Liam had had precious little experience as a parent, and the steep learning curve he was on wasn't the idyll he'd first imagined. Once Robbie had shown his guests their rooms, he walked back down the hall, but couldn't fail to hear the raised voices, one an adult, the other a whiny but determined child. Shaking his head and being thankful for the thousandth time that Ben had turned out to be a model son, Robbie descended to ground level to see to things in the Drawing room, where he encountered his uncle Cedrick. "Uncle Ced, you old rascal." "Robert, my boy. It's good to see you. We've left it too long." Cedrick looked into the eyes of his favourite nephew. When Robbie had been a small child, the pair had spent quite some time together, but when Cedrick moved to the Cotswolds to pursue his sculpting career, they'd drifted apart. "You look well, my boy." "I am, Uncle, and much of it is due to the new love in my life." Robbie had told Cedrick over the phone about his sexuality and his living arrangements, he didn't want any unpleasantness during the party, though as Cedrick was an artist, Robbie was sure that he'd been around countless gay people. Cedrick smiled warmly. "Yes, our Beatrice said that you'd made a good choice." "Oh?" Robbie didn't realise that his and Carl's relationship had been the subject of conversation between his sister and his uncle. He'd have to speak to her about not disclosing things like that. "No romantic prospects yourself, Uncle?" "What woman in her right mind would put up with an old eccentric like me?" Robbie shook his head. Yes, his Uncle Ced had pulled a few weird stunts in his time. "Okay, Uncle, just try and restrain your more, um, outlandish behaviour for tonight, will you?" "But people expect us artists to be strange. They're disappointed if I come across as boring and conservative." "Okay, Uncle." Robbie knew Cedrick would do as he pleased no matter what he said. 'At least he's harmless' Robbie went into the hall, just in time to welcome his friends Ralph and Ian, the pool maintenance guys. "Glad you two could make it," Robbie said, giving them both a hug. "What, with free grub and booze, course we'd come. And I hope there'll be lots of eye candy, too," Ian said. "Stop it," Ralph said through clenched teeth, he delivered a light punch to Ian's shoulder. "Oh, love. I wouldn't have expected anything else from you." Both Robbie and Carl found Ian's slightly crude, but never offensive comments very refreshing. "But behave, not everyone here tonight is gay, so you might get thumped if you come on to the wrong guy," Robbie said smiling. "Oh, I might look at the cuter ones, but I've got the best one all to myself. Listen, I hope the bed you've got us has a strong set of springs on it. Uncle Ralph's a real horny bugger when he's had a few." "Ian!" Ralph thought his partner had gone a bit too far. He was constantly embarrassed at the things Ian came out with. But he couldn't help but love the little reprobate. "Oh, don't worry, Carl and I have road tested all the beds in the house." Robbie had grown used to Ian's comments, and was now just as able to dish it back, something Ian delighted in. "Come on up. I've put you in the blue room." "Oh, how la-di da," Ian laughed. He was always gently teasing Robbie about how posh the house was. In truth Ian had been secretly looking forward to stopping overnight. Once Robbie had shown Ian and Ralph to their room, he saw, through a partially opened door, Shamus sitting on the bed, looking miserable. Tapping on the door, Robbie waited until Shamus invited him in. "Not coming downstairs? The party will be starting soon." "Dad said I had to stop up here until I could learn to behave myself," Shamus said, turning a set of reddened eyes up at Robbie. "Oh, dear." Robbie sat on the bed next to Shamus and put an arm around him. "Can't be much fun for you, being uprooted from the life you've always known, and having to go and live with strangers." "No, I hate it." Robbie gave the lad a squeeze; there wasn't much he could say to comfort him. He certainly wasn't an expert on parenting. "You do know that your dad and Ernest love you very much." "Dad's always telling me off, and Ernest, well, he just doesn't seem to, well, I think he's a bit scared." "Yeah, well, I can understand that, I bet Ernest doesn't want to mess things up with you. I don't suppose he's been a parent before." "I don't want him to be. I know he's dad's lover and everything, I don't understand why they're, um, like they are." "Not an easy question to answer." Robbie was out of his depth, and he knew it. "Look, why don't you come downstairs and meet my and Carl's son Ben, he should be back by now, he and his dad have gone off to collect a couple of Ben's mates. They're all about your age, so you'll have people to talk to." "Okay, thanks." The two made their way downstairs. Ben and Carl had come back, and in addition to Morgan and Josh, there was a man about Robbie and Carl's age there, too. "This is Darren, he's kinda like my second dad," Morgan proudly announced to Robbie. Darren had persuaded Morgan to stop calling him his cyber dad; it made him sound rather artificial and man-made. "Pleased to meet you." Robbie shook Darren's hand. 'Yep, he's family, too,' Robbie concluded. He sidled up to Carl, and told his lover of his suspicions. "There's more of us about than I thought," Carl said with a grin. Once Larry, Eric, Chris, Scott and Danny arrived, Larry wasn't drinking as he was on call, the party really began to get into its swing. Bruce was insistent that someone ought to play the role of first footer. "Ach, you gotta have one man. It's tradition, the first person to step over your threshold should be tall, dark and handsome. Joshua, you fit the bill nicely." Bruce walked over to a blushing Josh. "Oh, um, me? Well, I dunno," he said, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself. "Ach, man, you'll be great," Bruce encouraged. "All you need is a lump of coal, and maybe a pint of strong ale, but the ale isn't essential." Bruce soon talked Josh into it. As the only woman present, Sarah felt a little left out, though she had no shortage of dancing partners. Her arthritic knees were beginning to bother her; all she wanted to do was put her feet up and have a nice cup of tea. She headed to her sanctuary, the kitchen, to put the kettle on. "Oh no, you don't, Mrs Grimes. I'm under strict instructions from Mr Foster to keep you out of here," Ronald said as Sarah entered. "But I'm tired, I don't like being involved in all the fuss out there." She waved a hand at the kitchen door. "You're the belle of the ball, my dear," Ronald told her. "Oh, you sweet talking man. I bet you say that to all the ladies." "No, not since my Gladys was taken. It'll be ten years ago next February," Ronald said, his face dropping. "I'm sorry to hear that," Sarah soothed. She quite liked the catering man, he was in his mid to late fifties, but had obviously looked after himself well. "It was her heart, it was never very strong." Ronald's body seemed to sag a little; he sat down at the kitchen table next to Sarah. "My Gladys insisted on working right up until the end though, bless her." Ronald took out a handkerchief and wiped his eyes. Sarah gave his hand a squeeze. "You must have loved her very much." "We were childhood sweethearts. My Gladys was the only woman I've ever kissed on the mouth. We had a good life together, set up this catering business, I didn't know if I wanted to carry on with it when she was taken, but I'd be lost without my job. The only thing we regretted was that we were never blessed with children." "Yes, I never married, never saw the need, but I'd have liked a daughter to pass on all that I've learned, like my mum did with me. Three generations of my family have worked up at this house, and I'm the last." "Oh, Mrs Grimes, we're a right pair, aren't we?" Ronald said, squaring his shoulders. "It's just New Year always makes me maudlin." "I know. The end of one lonely year, and knowing the next will be just as lonely." Sarah realised she hadn't spoken so openly about her innermost feelings in years. She just felt so comfortable talking to the relative stranger. "I think you ought to get back to the party, it's half past eleven," Ronald said, looking at his watch. "I've got to get the drinks ready for the toast after midnight." "Do you want a hand?" Sarah asked, not really that bothered about going back to the party. "Mr Foster gave me my orders." "Oh, take no notice of him. I can still boss him around if I need to," Sarah said determinedly. * * * * * Cedrick wasn't a fan of crowds. This was one of the reasons why he'd found himself a small cottage tucked away in the English countryside. He liked the peace and quiet. Going into the library for a few moments to escape the loud pop music, something else he didn't care for, Cedrick noticed a figure hunched in one of the leather armchairs. "It's young Shamus, isn't it?" Shamus looked up, he was crying. "What on Earth's the matter with you, little fellow?" "It's the first New Year I haven't been with my mum," he said, sniffing back his tears. "Oh, dear." "She doesn't want me, she'd rather be with that Brendan McKee." "That's her fiancée?" "Yeah. He didn't want another man's kid knocking around." "Surely your mum would rather be with you than him?" "She wanted us both, but I can't stand him and, well, he feels the same about me. Mum's changed. It was a lot better when it was just me and her, but HE had to come along and spoil it." "Oh, right. But your dad seems a nice enough man." "Yeah, he does his best, but I miss home." Cedrick remembered his own home life. It wasn't all that pleasant. His father was taken prisoner by the Japanese during the war; he'd survived and come home, but the man who returned was a totally different person. Cedrick, although only eight years old when his father returned, had very vivid memories of always being told to play quietly in case the noise disturbed his father. The least upset caused Harold Aldrich to fly into a tirade. Cedrick realised that he'd soon grown afraid of his father; his sister, Robbie's mother Gloria, never seemed to be affected in quite the same way. "Shamus, it's never pleasant when families split up. I didn't enjoy my own home life all that much, and got out as soon as I could. I've never met your mum, so I can't comment about her, but from what I've seen, your dad seems to be a really nice man." "Yeah, just wish he wasn't queer, though." "People can't help who they fall in love with." "Guess not. Are you like him, too?" "No, love. But I've never managed to find a woman who I could settle down and make house with. I'm too awkward and set in my ways. But your dad has Ernest, and from what I've seen, they love one another very much." "Yeah." Shamus wasn't convinced. He'd been too well indoctrinated by the old priest at his church back home, to let go of his prejudices so easily. "You have two people who love you very much, okay, they might not meet your ideals, but I bet you live in a nice house, plenty to eat, and you won't be short of toys to play with." "No, Ernest's always taking me round the toy shops." Shamus began to brighten up. "It took me all morning to unwrap all my presents on Christmas Day." "Well, you are a lucky boy, then," Cedrick said, remembering the first few miserable Christmases after his father's return. The shops were pretty devoid of gifts due to the rationing which seemed to drag on for years after the war, but even so, things were desperately bleak inside his home. "Come on, it's almost midnight, you don't want to miss the singing of Auld Lang Syne, do you?" Cedrick said, getting to his feet and leading a slightly happier teenager from the room. * * * * * Carl wasn't sure how he felt about Bruce, the man seemed to be taking over the party somewhat. 'And it isn't even his house,' Carl thought; rather than say anything, he stepped outside for a few minutes to cool down. "There you are," Robbie said, spying his lover just outside the front door. "Wondered where you'd got to." "Oh, it's Martin's friend, he was getting on my nerves." Robbie shivered slightly, it was bitterly cold outside. "Give us a hug to keep me warm." Carl obliged. "Yeah, Bruce does seem to be taking charge a bit, but I think he's just what Martin needs, someone to tell him what to do in a kind sort of a way." "He wouldn't suit me." "I should hope not, because Mr Powers, you are well and truly spoken for." "Yeah, and it's great." Carl looked up into the almost cloudless sky at the half moon shining down on them. "What you thinking about?" "Oh, I don't know. Just how the moon seems always to be around. How it's shone down on mankind for, well, for hundreds of thousands of years." "Oh my, we are getting philosophical." "Yeah, I tend to at New Year," Carl said, nuzzling Robbie's neck. "But Rob, thanks to you, this is the happiest New Year I've ever had." "Me too, precious." Robbie also looked up and stared at the moon. "It's sometimes difficult to imagine that the light we're seeing can also be seen all over the world, or at least those parts that are experiencing night time." "Yeah, it seems such a small object from this distance," Carl said dreamily. He'd had a fair amount to drink. "I mean, it's almost midnight here, but it's only 7 pm in New York, and if you go further west to say Los Angeles, it's only 4 pm," "Yeah, but In Australia, they've already had their New Year," Carl said, joining his mate in the wonder that is worldwide time. "I know. In Sydney it's almost 11 am, New Year's Day." The two heard someone calling everyone to the Drawing room. Just before they entered through the front door, they spotted Josh coming round the corner of the house carrying his lump of coal. * * * * * "Okay, everyone," Bruce said. "As soon as Big Ben begins to strike the hour, we'll start singing 'Auld Lang Syne'. I suppose you lot only know the chorus, so that'll have to do." The assembled guests formed a circle and linked their crossed arms. They heard the familiar chimes of the clock, which loomed over the Palace Of Westminster in London. After the famous verse by Robert Burns had been sung, the group heard a knocking at the front door. Bruce moved towards it, only to be stopped by a look from Carl. "I think the householder should open his own door, don't you?" Carl was getting a bit fed up with Bruce. "Yes, sorry." Bruce had the good grace to realise that he was going too far. Robbie moved to the door and welcomed in a shivering Josh, who had forgotten to put on his coat. Josh, with all due solemnity, marched up to the blazing fire and gently threw on the lump of coal he'd been carrying. Overcome with the situation, not to mention a glass of wine he'd secretly drunk, Ben walked up to his boyfriend and treated him to a full on kiss on the lips, much to the ooh's and ah's of the assembled gathering. No one was in any doubt now as to how the two young boys felt about one another. It seemed to spark off a similar reaction between the other couples in the room. Ralph wrapped his precious if annoying at times Ian up in a hug and kissed him. Eric, not known for overly romantic gestures treated Larry to a long smooch. Chris, Scott and Danny Blake indulged themselves in a three-way kiss. Not wanting to be left out, Liam showed Ernest that he was still the man for him by sucking the tongue out of his mouth, and was loathed to give it back. Martin, who hadn't had that many enjoyable New Year parties, was overjoyed to receive a passionate greeting from his inebriated Scotsman. Given all the regalia Bruce was wearing, Martin couldn't identify the hard object which was being pressed into his groin. At first, seeing all the couples together, Morgan felt a little left out, but Darren soon remedied that. "Come here, son of mine," Darren said quietly. Each received a kiss on the cheek from the other. Ronald and Sarah, being from the old school, merely gave one another an affectionate hug. However, Robbie and Carl didn't feel so constrained. The onlookers thought that they were trying to break the world record for the longest smooch. Ben said to Josh in a stage whisper, "Do you think we ought to get a bucket of cold water?" Carl disengaged from Robbie and chased after a giggling Ben. After everyone had treated their significant other to the traditional New Year kiss, Carl announced that the guests should find their glasses for the toast. "Okay, as joint host of this gathering of like-minded friends and family, " he grinned widely at the use of the word, "I call upon our unofficial master of ceremonies," he pointed to Bruce, who at least had the good grace to look embarrassed, "to give us an authentic toast, and if we are lucky he might recite some Burns for us, too. That's if his brain isn't too sozzled by the whisky I've seen him drink through the evening. Lady, gentlemen and boys, I give you Mr Bruce Cameron." Carl bowed exaggeratedly "Ach, I only took a couple of wee drams, purely for medicinal purposes." Everyone laughed; they'd seen him down more of the amber fluid than anyone else present. "Okay, okay." Bruce held up his hand for silence. "I didn't want to be accused of not taking full advantage of the wonderful hospitality that has been shown to us this evening, thanks to the excellent efforts of Mr Lindsay. I have to say your Black Bun is the finest I've ever tasted," then in a quieter voice, "from an Englishman." Everyone booed, but it was good-natured. Bruce held up his hand. "No, in all seriousness, Ronald, you did an excellent job, and I've no idea why there's so much haggis still to be eaten," Bruce said, looking at the serving platter that still held quite a lot of the foodstuff on it. "Those poor haggis died in vain." He couldn't help a small smile. 'It was amazing,' he mused, 'how many people thought the haggis was a real animal.' "The toast!" Carl called out. He had realised that it didn't really matter that Bruce was taking over, he had the love of his life next to him, also his son, and a group of very good friends around him, what more could he ask for? "Sorry, yes of course," Bruce said. "It's the drink, you know. Okay, everyone, please raise yer glasses;" once everyone had done so, "A guid New Year to ane an a', and mony may ye see." Everyone attempted, not many all that successfully to repeat Bruce's words. "Okay, Carl said I should quote some Burns to yee all." This was greeted with a general moan. "Well, just one poem, then, it's one a me favourites, it's about a wee mouse who has just been disturbed by the plough." Bruce cleared his throat and attempted to stand a little taller. "Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim'rous beastie, O, what a panic's in thy breastie! Th' need na start awa sae hasty, Wi' bickering brattle! I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee, Wi' murd'ring pattle! I'm truly sorry man's dominion Has broken nature's social union, An' justifies that ill opinion, Which makes thee startle At me, thy poor, earth-born companion, An' fellow mortal!" The guests were starting to fidget, this was going on longer than they'd expected. Carl was beginning to regret giving Bruce his head. Larry's bleeper went off, indicating that he was needed. "Sorry, but could I use a telephone?" Larry asked, quietly. Bruce continued to soliloquise at an increased volume, he was really getting into his stride. Using it as a means to escape the torturous poetry reading, Robbie, Ben and Josh all decided to show Larry where the phone was. To a diminished audience, Bruce continued. Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste, An' weary winter comin fast, An' cozie here, beneath the blast, Thou thought to dwell-- Till crash! the cruel coulter past Out thro' thy cell. That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble, Has cost thee mony a weary nibble! Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble, But house or hald, To thole the winter's sleety dribble, An' cranreuch cauld! Most of the guests who hadn't escaped into the hallway, whished they had. ...Still thou art blest, compared wi' me The present only toucheth thee: But och! I backward cast my e'e, On prospects drear! An forward, tho' I canna see, I guess an' fear! Fearing yet more, the assemblage held their breath, but no more from Bruce was forthcoming. After a sigh of relief, they all thanked Bruce, for his 'entertaining' party piece. "It's alright, I don't have to attend," Larry said, coming back into the room, followed by the people who had tried not to listen into his conversation. Moving over to Scott, Larry put an arm around his son. "One day, my boy, you might have to stay sober when you're at a party, because you're on call." "That's alright, Dad Larry, I don't drink all that much anyway. Someone's got to look after my brothers, haven't they?" Scott looked affectionately at the two men who meant more to him than his own life. "We ought to be making a move soon, guys, I don't think Eric will be able to keep his hands off my gorgeous bod for much longer," Larry said before Eric lightly whacked him up side of the head. "Okay, dad," Chris said. "We'll say goodbye to Rob and Carl, then we'll be off." The departure of the Blake's, along with Eric and Larry, prompted Darren and Morgan to leave, too. The remaining children, Josh, Ben and Shamus were packed off unresisting to their beds. "You sure you'll be okay sleeping on an air mattress next to the tree, Uncle Ced?" Robbie asked. "Course I will, dear boy. Christmas, which for me at least is symbolised most perfectly in the joy written on the face of a child as he opens his presents, or in the beauty of a decorated tree. I just have to bathe in the ambient joyfulness of such things. It helps the creativity." Robbie couldn't decide which was the strongest force within his uncle at that moment, his artistic eccentricities, or the large volume of red wine he'd consumed during the evening. Before each of the remaining guests made their way upstairs, they thanked Robbie and Carl for a very pleasant evening. Seeing Robbie walk across the hallway, Carl knew his man wasn't ready for sleep. "The party went off great, love." "I know," Robbie said, sighing. "It's just I've been planning it all for weeks, and it's difficult to come to terms with the fact that it's all over and that nothing untoward happened." "Come on, put your coat on, we'll walk round the block a couple of times to settle you down." Robbie went into the downstairs cloakroom and emerged with his and Carl's winter jackets. "It's so quiet," Robbie said as they circled the house for the second time. "Yeah, it makes a nice contrast from the party." "You don't regret holding it?" Robbie asked. "No, no, not at all. It was great to catch up with everyone again." "That's what I thought. I also wanted to create an atmosphere where everyone felt comfortable, you know, if they wanted to kiss their partner, then they could do so without feeling as though it was wrong or shameful." Carl lapsed into silence. "You okay?" Robbie asked, giving Carl's arm a squeeze. "Yes, love, very. I was just wondering what will become of us all in the next few years. What kind of a world will Ben grow up to live in?" "Yeah, I know. I often think about that, too " "I mean what will the future hold for all our friends?" Carl began to warm to his theme. He wasn't sure if his words were generated by his deep contentment at his own situation, or was it just the booze talking? "Chris has a good job in the civil service, I know I wouldn't like that kind of a career, but he seems happy." "Working in an office isn't too bad." "No, I know that, but I like working with my hands." "True," Robbie giggled. Carl smiled. "Danny doesn't seem as ambitious, but I suppose he's happy." "I'm sure he is, yes." "Scott, I bet he'll make a great doctor." "Oh, we are being philosophical this evening." "This morning, you mean," Carl corrected. "Sorry, this morning. I know what you mean, though. I imagine some things won't change all that much. Take Ian and Ralph, for example. I bet they'll still be doing pretty much the same in a few years' time, they're an odd couple, but seem to fit together really well." "I like Ian, he's cheeky, but he respects the boundaries which Ralph sets." "I think that's the key, he needs to feel secure, and those boundaries help him do that." "We're lucky, Rob." "How do you mean?" "Lucky that we found each other. Where would we be tonight if we hadn't have got together?" "Well, I'd be fast asleep in my bed," Robbie said, pointing up at the window to his old bedroom, currently occupied by Liam and Ernest. "And not walking round out here freezing my bollocks off." "Sorry, love, we'll go in." "No, Car, it's fine. I'd be in my bed, but I'd be there alone." "Yeah, me too." "I imagine that out of all our friends, Liam and Ernest will see the most change." "Yeah, Shamus must disrupt their lives quite a bit." "Not just that, Liam is changing careers, he told me that he's grown fed up of the constant mucking about of his social life. He and Ernest can't do much forward planning because his days off keep getting cancelled at the last minute." "He said he's going to become a Crime Prevention Officer." "At least he'll still be connected with the police, I know that's important to him." "Yes, but I think he would have chucked in the job completely if it had threatened his relationship with Ernest." "In the long term, that would have created friction between them." "You think?" Carl asked. "Car, when you almost died when your van broke down, I wanted nothing more than to keep you at home all day, where I knew you were safe, but I knew that I couldn't ask you to give up your job, because it's what you want, no, need to do." "Thanks." Carl gave Robbie a squeeze. "See that?" Robbie said, looking up into the sky. "A shooting star, quick, make a wish." Robbie watched the pinpoint of light streak across the heavens. When it had burnt up in the atmosphere, Robbie received a kiss on the lips. "I don't need to wish. I've got all I could ever want," Carl said, hugging his man with one hand and pointing at the house with the other. "Come on, you, it's well past your bedtime." The two men ascended the few steps and went inside, the front door closing behind them. The house stood firm and proud on its hill, its stout walls holding in and keeping safe the love shared by its precious inhabitants. Those same walls also stood ready to shield those within from the cruelties, pain and ignorant intolerance of the outside world. THE END Messages of goodwill, expressions of sadness or relief that it's finally over etc, may be flung in the general direction of the author drew.hunt@blueyonder.co.uk Reader feedback is the only payment we online authors receive. Do you think it's time to pay the bill?