Date: Fri, 30 Mar 2012 10:06:34 -0400
From: Chris Johns <chris-johns@hotmail.com>
Subject: Memories

This is a love story in one part. Only 4,400 words and very little sex.

				 Memories

The walk from the square to `La Saten' was tiring. Tomas remembered as a
young man making this same walk, frequently, and not feeling the strain.
But that was a long time ago and the memories brought tears to his eyes. He
had been so young, they had been so young. Where had all that exuberant
youth gone, how had he thrown it away so easily?

Panting as he would have done after running a marathon, he picked his
little corner of the bar and ordered his wine. Paco served him as usual,
and asked after his health, as usual, then left him with his memories, as
usual. Paco hadn't even been born when he and his love had got uproariously
drunk here on numerous occasions, but the best memories were of the nights
they hadn't got drunk, but had gone home to make love until dawn.

How had he let it slip away, Fernando was still there as large as life and
a million times more beautiful, but only in his mind. The beautiful boy was
gone, had been gone for years. Long, lonely years. Why did he stay? Why did
he continue to breath? He had been dead in his heart for all those years
since he had let his love go.

Outwardly nothing had changed in his life, or his surroundings. Old Spanish
villages changed slowly, sometimes they looked as if they had never
changed. Rojas was like that, oh yes, a few new buildings, but all like the
old ones. `La Saten', (The Frying Pan), hadn't changed, Paco had left it as
it was. A new coat of paint every spring and that was it. Tomas smiled as
he thought of his first drink here, how he had been at his most persuasive
convincing the barman that Fernando was old enough to be served alcohol. Of
course he wasn't, he was only fifteen, a small Spanish boy, brought up in
England where Thomas had first seen him and fallen in love when he was
eighteen. It was in this village that he had become Tomas, dropping the `h'
forever after that first visit.

They had come here on a backpacking holiday with friends. The friends had
moved on but Tomas and Fernando had remained and fallen in love with each
other and with this village.

"We'll come back here to live when we have finished our education," Thomas
had said to Fernando one morning as they lay, lazily stroking each other's
naked bodies, in the small house they had rented for the remainder of that
first summer.

"But how will we live?" asked the ever practical Fernando.

"Oh, we'll find something to do. We won't need very much money to live in a
place like this."

Fernando didn't think it would be that easy, but by then he was so in love
he would let his man have his dreams. They could still be in love when
reality took over.

The little house was tucked into the hillside just below the village, with
wonderful views down to the coast and along the beach. Large old olive
trees dotted the gardens, their knarled old trunks making patterns with
their shadows on the long grass.

"We'll buy this house and live here happily ever after, we'll build a
swimming pool and make love and swim all day and I'll tell you forever how
beautiful you are and how much I love you."

Fernando laughed at the absurdity but loved to hear his man tell him how
much he was loved. Maybe they would one day buy this little house, but he
couldn't imagine it ever being their main home. They would have to work,
but he would be happy if they could be together. Thomas was his first love,
and he hoped his last.

Tomas had his second glass of wine and looked round at all the other
customers, mostly young, all smiling and talking animatedly in a dozen
different tongues. His sleepy little village had become part of the `in
crowds' summer resting place. They talked about how quaint it was, and
wasn't it wonderful that no one had changed it. The wealthier ones had big
villas in the valley, madness, the valley was like an oven, but they all
had air-conditioning. Tomas thought of his little house, no fans, no
air-conditioning. The onshore breeze wafted through the house during the
day, keeping it cool for the evenings. He remembered the day they succumbed
to the 20th. century and installed electricity. They had needed it for the
swimming pool filtration and circulation pumps. Before that they had made
do with a gas fridge and oil lamps. Battery driven tape cassettes and radio
had been their music source, no television. He still didn't have a
television. They didn't need anything or anyone in those days, they had
their love. The thoughts made his sadness deeper and the tears ran silently
down his face. He paid for his wine and departed quickly before anyone
could see those tears.

Perhaps it was time he went back to England, close up the house for a few
months. Maybe come back in December when it would still be warm during the
day, and a small fire would suffice in the evenings. He would bring another
batch of books to read, get in a couple of flagons of the local red wine
and hibernate for the winter.

He knew he should shake off this ennui and get on with his life, he was
only fifty and apart from the loss of one lung which kept him short of
breath, he was still quite fit. Twenty two years he had with his love, and
these last ten without him. What wonderful years, until the arguments
started, the last two years had been a nightmare, neither of them willing
to compromise, stupid, stupid, stupid.

Tomas sat on the back patio with another glass of wine and remembered. They
had gone home from that first holiday, he to university, Fernando to do his
last year before GCEs, three more years of education for him, and six more
for Fernando. He would use those three years to become one of the most
daring and successful traders in the City. The money was to buy their
little house.  He smiled as he remembered all the clandestine meetings they
had in England. Homosexual acts were still illegal for Fernando for another
three years but somehow they managed to meet often enough to maintain their
sanity. Every school and university vacation they came back to their little
house in their quaint little village. The owner laughed at their enthusiasm
and wild enjoyment of each other, and let them have it for a peppercorn
rent when they were there. Who else would want it any way in this modern
world? No electricity, water had to be pumped up from the well, basic
facilities inside, but Thomas and Fernando loved it.

Fernando finished his A Levels and took a gap year while Thomas took a year
off. They bought the little house and started to turn it into a love nest.
Trips out to nearby towns and villages in their little Citroën saw them
gathering the makings of their home. Locally made rugs for the stone
floors, the paintings of local artists for the walls, pottery for ornaments
and more practical use, wonderful Moroccan plates and baking dishes that
seemed to enhance the taste of the food. Suddenly the year was gone and it
was time for Fernando to go to university and Thomas to go back to make
more money so that they could fulfil his dream of living in this little
village and doing very little except make love.

Thomas had been hugely successful and made his millions while Fernando
finished his degree. Then the need for compromise, Thomas was ready to
complete the dream.

"I have enough money for us to never work again. We can go out to Rojas
forever."

"No Tom, the dream was wonderful and I'll never grow tired of our little
love nest, but I need to use my education for my own satisfaction. The
money doesn't matter, but I want to work, I want to achieve something in my
life besides loving you."

Thomas had looked at him and realised how determined he was.

"Alright my love. How long do you want for that?"

"At least five years Tom, then let's look at it again. We can still go out
to the house whenever we have holidays."

The five years were, for Thomas wasted years, yes, he made more millions
that they would never need, but he itched to be in their love nest. Why
waste years with their noses to the grindstone when they could be in their
own little piece of Paradise. He wanted to be making love and lazing
around, years when he could have his lover by his side all the time, not
just in the evenings when he would be too tired for loving, or at the
weekends when there would be things to do people to see.

Fernando didn't see it that way, carving out his own little place in
society was exciting, yes he worked hard, but it was work he enjoyed. The
people he worked with were young and exciting, vibrant and full of life. Of
course he loved Thomas, he was sure there would never be anyone else to
love in his life, but he couldn't just do nothing, that was bizarre.

At the end of the five years he wanted another five, he would still only be
32, they could still have decades in their love nest, and perhaps he would
be ready for it by then.

The ten years was up and Fernando still wasn't ready.

"Tom, I need more time, but I don't have to be here all the time either. We
can go to Rojas for most of the year, well a good part of the year. I can
work with my computer and only go back to the office for about one week, or
ten days a month. You can come and go as you please. Stay here, and every
time I come back will be like a new beginning, wonderful nights of love
making, renewing our love for one another."

Once again Thomas acquiesced, how could he not, he still loved this boy who
he couldn't see as a man. Fernando would always be the wonderful zestful
fifteen year old. The reality was that he still looked like a boy, at
thirty-two, people would still put his age at eighteen or nineteen.

It worked for Fernando, and Thomas bit his tongue rather than make
waves. They carried on like that for another two years until Thomas had the
accident that cost him a lung. Now he felt like an invalid and wasn't
prepared to compromise. He perceived that his life would be shorter now so
wasting weeks being away from his love, or being in England with him, but
not having him all the time was unacceptable and the arguments started.

"I'm not like you Tom, I can't sit around and do nothing, I have to work
for my sanity. I love you, I'll always love you, but I can't laze around
here and do nothing, it would drive me insane."

"Oh, so my company isn't enough for you anymore?"

"It never was Tom, I have to have something other than you in my life, not
someone, but something. I love my job, I'm good at my job, it fulfils a
part of me that you can't. You fulfil the part my job can't. You give the
balance to my life and that is part of why I love you so much."

They argued round and round until Fernando couldn't take any more. He
packed his bags, watched by a resentful Thomas.

With tears streaming down his face he stood in the doorway of their little
piece of Paradise that had become a little piece of hell and said, "I'm
sorry Tom, I'm not coming back. I'll need a few weeks in the London house
until I can get accommodation sorted."

Forty years old and Thomas was lost. Thirty-seven years old and Fernando
was lost. Neither of them could even remember what it was like not to have
each other.

For a few weeks there was some minimal communication until Fernando moved
out of their London home, and then nothing. Thomas went home after a few
months and walked into the empty house. For all the warmth there was in
those four walls it might as well have been empty. Fernando should have
taken everything. All the furniture, all the carpets and curtains, it would
have been easier to bear, but he had taken nothing except his clothes and
his personal stuff. Everything they had bought together was there. He went
round touching things, smiling when he remembered the funny place they
might have found this trinket, or that figurine. He remembered haggling
with shop owners in Cairo for some of the things on display, the framed
photograph of them with the little Thai boy who had been their guide on a
trip to Bangkok. He sniggered, remembering how hard the boy had tried to
sleep with them, and how amazed he was when they convinced him they only
ever made love to each other.

That was when the tears came, they had never slept around, he had never for
a moment doubted that when Fernando was away from him that he was celibate.
He sobbed his way through self-recrimination, he swore he would contact
Fernando and beg him to come back. He would compromise, he would swallow
his longing to be in their love nest all year.

The next morning he rang Fernando's office and was answered by a strange
voice.

"I'm sorry Sir, Mr. Sanchez has taken up a new post with a sister company
in Australia."

"No Sir, I have no idea how long he will be gone. The initial contract is
for five years, but I understand it is renewable."

Thomas fainted, when he recovered consciousness he sat and worked through
his options.

"I'll go out to Australia, I'll beg him to take me back, I'll become his
houseboy and go anywhere in the world he wants to work."

Thomas knew he was kidding himself. Fernando had gone to the other side of
the world to get away from him. The last two years had eroded all the
wonderful loving years. The pot of love was empty, the pot of resentment
and unhappiness had been overflowing.

He got hold of a firm that would mothball the house and its contents for
him. He couldn't imagine selling it and he couldn't imagine ever living in
it again. One week later he went back to Spain. One year later he realised
he had become a total slob, pride in appearance had gone pride in anything
had gone. He pulled himself together, installed a small gym in the cottage,
and got himself fit again. He tried share dealing from the house using
computers and made more money that he didn't need. He made no friends just
being on nodding terms with the villagers that remembered the two young
Englishmen that were so in love the world around them was always bright and
sunny. They wanted to ask where his friend had gone, but the lines of grief
kept them from doing so.

Life became a living death for Thomas. There was never a day that he didn't
think of Fernando. The years past and nothing changed. Then at forty-eight
he had some kind of attack that was made worse by his one lung and he
became a semi invalid. His exercise now was a walk up to the village to La
Saten for a glass of wine most days. He made regular trips to London to see
his specialist in Harley Street but they said there was nothing more they
could do now, he would have to live with his infirmity. The truth was that
Thomas was dying of a broken heart. He knew it and was pleased that he
would not have to grieve his lost love for much longer.

A flurry of activity followed that last trip to the bar and the little
house was closed up after Thomas had spring-cleaned, leaving it as it had
been in happy times. His will was with his solicitors here and in London.
It was very simple. Everything he owned he left to Fernando. Neither of
them had living relatives. That had been one of the draws to their
relationship. They had only ever had each other.  In London he very quickly
sold the little flat he had bought to live in when he was here, then he
opened up the big house. The mothballing had worked well. Cleaners had only
taken a couple of days to open it up to air, and clean everything.

He made the last appointment to see his specialist and get a reasonable
idea of how much longer he had.

"I'm sorry Thomas, there is nothing wrong with you apart from your one
lung. But if you don't have the will to live there is nothing medical
science can do to make you. Why don't you go and find the boy, at least you
will know for certain."

Thomas laughed.

"Henry, I think ten years is long enough for me to know."

With that he had left and walked slowly down Harley Street making his way
into the West End. He walked with a stick now looking more like seventy
than fifty, but determined to have one last drink in the Admiral Duncan.
Then he would go home, ordering a limo to take him. `My last big expense',
he thought, I'm sure Fernando won't begrudge me that out of the fortune I
have left him'.

He looked round the bar and thought how young all these happy gay men
were. How far they had travelled since he and Fernando had started their
love affair. No furtive meetings now, these young men could walk down the
road hand in hand and kiss openly, how lucky they were.

He heard a bunch of Australian accents and immediately thought of Fernando,
`is he still there, has he come back to England, where is he, what is he
doing, has he found a new love?' Thomas looked round to see and his eyes
locked immediately onto the soft-spoken Englishman that was in their
midst. Only he wasn't an Englishman, he was a Spaniard. It couldn't be, he
looked so young, he looked so beautiful. Thomas didn't remember anything
else until he woke up in a hospital bed.

He looked round slowly until his eyes rested on the sleeping form in a
chair alongside his bed. It was him, it was the most beautiful, the most
loved creature in the whole world. This apparition couldn't be forty-seven
years old, it wasn't possible, he looked to still be in his twenties.

Thomas shifted his position so that he could look more easily at this lover
from happier times. The movement disturbed Fernando who opened his eyes and
looked.

"I think you have been a very naughty boy. You haven't been looking after
yourself."

Thomas blushed, his first words from his love in ten years and they were
chastising him. He nodded and the tears came, nothing in the world could
have stopped them. Before him was ten wasted years.  Fernando eased himself
out of the chair and sitting on the bed pulled Thomas into his arms. He
didn't say any more, he just stroked the man that he had loved for twenty
two years and remembered all the good time, trying to blot out the last
years of hell. The extra ten years didn't count, they were the years of
living in limbo, just going through the motions. Only Derek had understood,
only Derek who would have given his life for one night in bed with his
idle, understood.

"How can you live in this Paradise, surrounded by gorgeous men who would
die to be able to make love to you, I would die happy if I could make love
to you just once, and you remain celibate. How many years are you going to
grieve for this lost love and do nothing about it?"

Derek was angry that, as he saw it, Fernando was throwing his life away on
a dream.

"Because what we had could never be repeated, there is no other man on this
planet that I could love even half as much as I loved Tom. We can't live
together and I'm not living now that we are apart. Just leave me alone
Derek."

"No, if I can't have you, then I want you to go home and find this wonder
man that can hold you in your mind forever. Ten years Fernando, go and find
him, go and live with him in your little love nest. You are crazy to remain
here."

At last Fernando realised Derek was right. Ten years he had grieved the
loss of Tom, ten years he had refused to bend and do what Tom wanted. Now
he would, he would start at the London house and then the house in Rojas.
Some of his Australian colleagues were going to England for courses. He
would resign but go home with them and start his quest.

His mind returned to the present as the gentle tears of his love had become
hard, gut wrenching sobs and Fernando knew that this man was sucking on the
last ounces of his stamina.

"Shhh, my love, no more tears, I'm going to look after you."

Thomas couldn't believe what he had just heard. He pulled away from
Fernando and looked in his eyes.

"Do you mean that?"

"Yes, I mean that. I came home to find you. I can't live without your love
any longer. Pure force of will has allowed me to continue these last ten
years, now, I can't deny my love for you any longer. Say you'll allow me
back into your life?"

Thomas tried to reply but ended up with another blackout. The brain
overload was just too much. This one induced a stroke and the doctors were
more than a little concerned.

"He is so weak, Mr. Sanchez. We have talked to his doctors, Mr. Bedford
lost the will to live according to his specialist and had virtually wished
himself into an early grave. I don't know what more we can do, he will want
to live very much to survive this, but I doubt he has the physical strength
left."

Fernando didn't leave Thomas's side. The days past and at last Fernando's
iron resolve crumbled and he cried.

"Please don't die my love, I need you so much. We need to go back to Rojas
for me to show you how much I love you."

The crying was tearing him apart. How could he have left Thomas for so
long. He knew a strange man had tried to contact him a few months after he
had left and he was sure it must have been Thomas, but he had done
nothing. How could he have been so stupid. Despite all the arguments,
despite the total loss of loving feelings, as soon as he was back in
England, Fernando knew that this man would never be out of his life.

Thomas didn't die, but it was nearly a year before he was well enough to
slide out from under the care of his doctors.

"We'll go home as soon as you like Tom. I presume the house is still ours?"

Thomas didn't understand for a little while, and then he realised Fernando
meant the little house in Rojas.

"Oh yes my love, I could never have sold it. It was always going to be
yours."

Fernando blanched at that comment, knowing that his Tom had almost willed
himself to die in despair of ever seeing his love again.

Something else that dawned slowly on Thomas was that Fernando didn't go to
work anymore. That whole year he had hardly left his side.

"What about your work, shouldn't you be doing something?"

Fernando smiled.

"No my love, you are my work now, and forever. It has taken me so much
longer than our original five years, but now I'm ready to live and love in
our little corner of Paradise."

The tears came again and Thomas whispered, "So many wasted years, so much
loving lost to us."

"But we have the rest of our lives now. I'll make it up to you, I'll love
you like you've never known before."

Thomas laughed then through his tears.

"You only have to love me a little and I'll be happy, and if you stay with
me I'll be even happier."

Practicality took over then.

"Let's sell this pile and buy a serviced flat for when we want to come to
London. We won't spend much time here so what's the point. We'll make the
dream happen. Our little house will be our main home, but please my love,
let's modernise it a little, I'm not a teenager any more, I need a few home
comforts other than a bed for you to make love to me."

Thomas started to feel young again, the enthusiasm for life sprung new
shoots. The years appeared to fly by now, but these were happy years. Once
again, the villagers saw the two young men they had known all those years
ago, maybe not so young now, but so obviously in love, as they had been
before.

The years fell away from Tomas, and after only a couple of years back in
Rojas he walked with a spring in his step and looked years younger than he
had when he left.

The little house became a frequent party home for the young jet setting gay
crowd. They loved to sit and hear the story of these two men, spanning
nearly four decades. How could these two men love each other so much and
for so long, neither of them ever having sex with another being. That was
awesome, and they were still so much in love.

That first winter they curled up most evenings and read to each other in
the soft glow of the fire and lamps. They read romantic novels, what else?
They laughed and they loved, they tried to make up for all those wasted
years and their happiness was complete at last.

				  THE END

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