Hard Tail(11)

I'd always wanted a sister, I recalled.

It wasn't a subject I was particularly keen to talk to Matt about, so I tried to shift the focus away from me. "So are you, er, seeing someone?" I asked, cringing internally because when I asked girls this, they always seemed to assume it was a chat-up line.

Matt gave me a wary look. I wondered what Jay had told him about me. "Yeah. Actually, we live together. Um. So do you know the area well?"

I guessed I wasn't the only one for whom it was a touchy subject, although it worried me it might just be that Matt thought I was judgmental. "It's not a problem, you know," I insisted. Matt just looked puzzled, so I was forced to carry on. "You being, well, gay." I cleared my throat, feeling like an idiot. "Do you live in Totton?"

"Oh! Yeah-I mean, no. But I used to. My, um, Steve's place is out in the New Forest." Matt smiled, and his tone got warmer. I wasn't sure if it was for the forest, the house, or for the mysterious and presumably comfortably well-off Steve.

I was already starting to dislike the bloke. "Sounds nice," I said shortly.

"It is-we get wild ponies coming right up to the garden fence, and it's really peaceful out there. The pubs are great too. You should try a few. Most of them do food."

I shrugged. "Never really been that keen on eating out alone."

"We could go to one next Wednesday, if you like. There's this brilliant one I know out towards Lyndhurst-they do a great lasagna. Loads of other stuff too. If it's nice, we could eat out in the garden." Matt made excited gestures with his fork, and a blob of brown sauce teetered but just failed to fall on the table.

His enthusiasm had me sold on the idea even before I'd had time to think it over. "Yes, why not? We could make it a regular weekly lunch date." Matt's eyes went wide, and I cursed myself. "Not that it'll be a date, obviously," I added hurriedly. "Just … two blokes going for a pub lunch. Drinking beer and, um, talking about football. Not a date at all, really. I don't know why I called it that." I took a gulp of lukewarm coffee to cover my embarrassment.

Matt fiddled with one of the little packets of salt that had survived his ministrations earlier. In a belated reversion to form, it came apart in his hands, spilling tiny granules all over the table. "Shit." He sounded miserable, and I felt like a bastard. "Look, Jay said you were a bit … and it doesn't matter, I know some blokes are uncomfortable with the gay thing." Now I felt even more like a bastard.

"It's not … " I stopped. Because it was that, and denying it would just make me a lying bastard. I pushed my chair back and stood. "Look, I've got shopping I need to get done. Thanks for lunch; it's been great. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"




 

 

Then I dropped a £20 note on the table and walked out like the coward I was.





Chapter Four




After I'd braved the local Asda-it was a lot larger, busier and generally less user-friendly than the Waitrose I usually shopped at, but it was also cheaper, which, given my straitened circumstances, was a good thing-and cleaned it out of coffee, tea and microwaveable ready meals, I went to see Jay. Obviously, the universe agreed with me that I was due a bit of karmic payback, as Mum was there. She was putting all the get-well cards into a carrier bag and generally looking like she was preparing to re-enact the evacuation of Dunkirk, only on a slightly larger scale.

"Mum?" I said, giving Jay a distracted wave. "Is Jay going home already?"

"Don't be ridiculous, darling. James is far too ill for that. No, the doctors here have admitted he's going to need a further operation, which clearly means the first one wasn't done properly, and I don't think it's good enough. We're having him transferred to the Spire."

"Wait a minute," I said. "Jay, you can't afford a private hospital!" Not on the profits of 87p pump adaptors, he couldn't.

"Don't be silly, dear," Mum said. "He's got insurance."

"He has?" I said stupidly.

"Yeah." Jay finally took part in the conversation. "Mum pays for it."

I stared at her. "What? You've never said anything about getting us private cover."

"Well, I don't, for you, Timothy. There's never seemed to be any need. After all, you don't do anything."

"What about the karate?" I sputtered, wounded by her dismissive tone.

"Oh, Timothy." She made a tutting sound with her tongue. "Everyone knows it's all noncontact these days. You're only pretending to hit people. It's not as if it's proper fighting."

Way to make me feel good about my shiny new black belt, Mum. "One of the guys at my club broke his wrist a few weeks ago," I pointed out, possibly a little defensively.