Date: Fri, 2 Jun 2006 11:07:00 +0000 (GMT)
From: Nathan Me <nathan7new@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: James Chapter 16

'James' by Nathan

New email address nathan7new@yahoo.co.uk

Please note that email addresses listed previously are no longer active and
I no longer use the groups mentioned there. My stories are now archived at
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/nathansstories/.

This story contains material of a sexual nature and describes sexual acts
between adults and children. If you find this kind of material offensive,
if you are under the legal age to read such material or if it is illegal in
your country, please do not read any further.

My stories may contain some factual or autobiographical elements, but they
are works of fiction and any apparent similarities of my characters to real
people are not intended.

This story is protected by copyright. It may not be downloaded, copied,
printed or otherwise reproduced in any way other than for your private
enjoyment and may not be changed in any way without express written consent
of the author, me!

I hope you enjoy this story.


James: Chapter 16


Tom walked as slowly as he could. He didn't really want to go back to the
clinic and get the results, but he knew he had to.  Just like he had to
make some decisions about his life. The problem was, he thought, that the
same anger that made him treat people badly, that drove his abusive
behaviour in relationships and with people in general, that same drive was
also what had made him successful in his employment. He was aggressive,
dominant and commanding. He took risks and manipulated people and
circumstances to his advantage. That was who he was. If he started to
change his personal life and behaviour, how would that affect his work? It
wasn't that he needed a large income. The apartment was paid for and he had
already added a considerable sum to his inheritance, enough to leave him
comfortable for some time, even if he didn't work at all. However, Tom's
drive would not let him, 'not work'. He had to constantly achieve. He had
recognised that much before now. So much for introspection!

All these knew thoughts, feelings of guilt and even remorse, they were
totally new to tom and he had been close to tears a few times over the last
couple of hours. That was new to him too. Men don't cry. Oh, shit! Why is
life so complicated? He walked in through the clinic doors, his feet
getting heavier with each step. By the time he reached the reception, he
thought he might actually collapse. The receptionist pointed back to the
waiting room and he re-entered the snot-green hell he remembered from
earlier. He watched the second hand on his Rolex. Seconds had never seemed
so long before. Now he was having whole conversations with himself within
each one. Five minutes, ten minutes passed and he had started sweating. At
12 minutes 35 seconds the door opened and a Nurse called the name he had
given them. For a second he didn't remember that he had used a false name,
but then the second hand slid to the next division and he remembered. He
stood and followed the Nurse into a consulting room where a middle aged man
sat with a manila folder open on the desk in front of him. The man greeted
Tom using that same unfamiliar false name. It was as if everything was
happening in slow motion. Tom's knew found respect for how much could
happen in each second had spilled out into reality, or so it seemed, until
the moments that he sat in the chair opposite the middle aged man, and all
of a sudden everything lurched back into almost normal time. Tom was
disoriented and felt nauseous.

"So, the big question first... negative at present. We will need to do
another test in three months to be absolutely sure, but for now we can be
reasonably certain, given the history you gave us this morning, that you
are negative."

"I don't have it?"

"No. Like I say, in three months we can be categorical, but for now, based
on your history, I'd say you're safe. However, that still leaves us to
discuss how you can remain safe."

"Sorry?" Tom was only half hearing what was being said. He was numb,
emotionally.

"Well, you don't used intravenous drugs, so there is no risk there, but
your sexual activity could put you at risk in future unless you take
precautions..."

The man droned on about safe sex, but Tom was just thinking, 'clean, safe,
negative', over and over again. It was starting to sink in. The man was
handing him some leaflets and asking him to make another appointment at the
reception for three months time. The man stood and showed him out and Tom
stood in the reception, taking in his reprieve, his freedom, like a man
just released from prison, his mind barely escaping hell. He made the
appointment and walked back out onto the street. The city air smelled
sweeter, fresher than it had just half an hour earlier when he had entered
the building for the second time that day. A woman walking towards him
reminded him of Sara. Coincidence, but it made him think of her. If he
hadn't infected her who had?  He pulled his mobile out of his pocket and
thumbed his contacts. Sara. He found her number and rang it, she answered
on the first ring.

"What is it, Tom?" Her manner was a little sharp, but what did he
expect. However, she had known it was him, so she obviously still had his
number programmed in her phone too.

 "Can we meet?"

"Why?"

"I want to apologise, but I also need to tell you something. Can we meet,
even if it's just for a few minutes?"

She hesitated and he wondered what he would do if she said 'no'. He heard a
heavy sigh on the other end and then she said, "Ok. Why and when?"

"When would be good for you? I've taken the day off, so I'm free anytime."
He looked at his watch and realised it was almost five already, so time
didn't really matter as she would be finishing work soon anyway.

"How about back at the dinner at six?"

"Fine. I'll see you there." Before he could say anything else, she hung up.

He started walking down the road, looking out for a taxi. Normally Black
cabs were everywhere, but today they seemed to be anywhere but
here. Fifteen minutes later he found one and headed for the dinner. It was
almost six by the time they got there. Traffic in central London was always
busy, but late afternoon it almost came to a standstill with everyone
leaving work. He sat in the same booth he had met her in last time and
ordered an espresso. The same waitress served him and gave him a funny look
as if she remembered him and wasn't really sure whether to serve him or
not. So who had infected Sara? Well, that was really none of his business,
but he had to tell her it wasn't him so she could concentrate on her other
partners. His coffee came and he started sipping it slowly. How could he
apologise for raping her when he didn't believe he had? Yes he had used her
badly and hurt her deeply, but could he apologise for something he hadn't
done? Would it be right to do so? Or had he really done it and just
couldn't accept he was that depraved? Once again his mind swirled around
the possibilities and problems. Then she walked in. Beautiful. Her silky
hair bounced with healthy life, as she seemed to glide towards the
booth. She sat effortlessly and looked around for the waitress, showing off
her handsome, beautiful profile, backlit by the numerous neon lights in the
diner. She ordered and then turned and faced him, considering him,
observing him. Eventually, she spoke first.

"So what do you want?"

"First I want to apologise for the way I treated you, both the other day
and when we were going out." Her eyebrows rose as if she were startled. "I
was a pig and I am so sorry for how I treated you. I still struggle, to be
honest, to accept that what I did was rape, but I treated you badly and
hurt you both physically and emotionally. I am a bastard and I have hurt
many people, used people and you have made me realise that."

She sat sipping her coffee, trying to work out if he was sincere or just
playing her. She couldn't see why Tom of all people would apologise for
anything.

"What do you really want, Tom?"

"Nothing."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Honestly. I went for a test today, and while I waited I did a lot of
thinking, about how I treated you and people in general and why I treated
you like that and I am ashamed."

"So you found out you are HIV positive and what? You want to get back with
me? Come on Tom, you really think I'll..."

"No, no. Honestly. And the test was negative anyway."

"I couldn't be." All the colour drained from her face. She had been adamant
that only Tom could have done this to her. It was so easy to point all her
anger at him. So convenient to have it all so neatly packaged. Could she
have been wrong? No way.

"Really, Sara. That's one of the things I needed to say, that it must have
been someone else that infected you. But that still doesn't excuse my
behaviour towards you and for that I truly am sorry. I know nothing I do
now can make up for it, but I want you to know that this experience has
made me stop and think about who I am, who I want to be. I know that I have
been a bastard and I want to find a way to be different. I know that
doesn't change anything for you, but I really am sorry for how I treated
you."

She stared at him, only half listening, half believing and wondering what
this meant. If not Tom, then who? She took another sip of her coffee and
then stared into the dark pool, trying to see some truth, some answer. So
much had been taken from her, and now her certainty too. She was very
tired. Tired of stress, of problems, of having to be brave and of having
the rug pulled from under her so often. Here it was again. She started to
cry.

Tom saw the tears begin and wondered what he should do. He became aware
that once again the waitress was watching them. She must think I'm a right
bastard. She wouldn't be to far wrong, he thought. He pulled out his own
hanky and offered it to Sara. She took it silently and dabbed her
eyes. There was no way he could know or imagine what she had gone through,
but he had real sympathy for her. He felt responsible for much of the
sorrow and burden she bore. He didn't infect her, but he had hurt her
deeply and she believed he had raped her. Had he? He felt moistness in the
corner of his own eyes and blinked it away. Oh, how he wished James were
with him now. He wanted to cuddle up to the boy and apologise for hurting
him. He wanted to protect the boy from ever being hurt again. His own face
crumpled and tears flowed down each cheek.

Sara saw his tears, misinterpreting them as tears for her; she felt he
actually must have some feelings after all.


More to come...