Three Tears
by David Heulfryn

 

Chapter Six

Phil walked over to Martin, who had stood up to greet him.

“I’m so sorry, Martin. I’ll just get a drink and then explain everything.” He looked at Martin’s nearly empty glass. “What can I get you?”

“Lager, thanks.”

Phil went to the bar and interrupted the two bartenders to order. Sitting back down, Martin watched him as he waited for him to come over.

Phil came over carrying two pints and passed one to Martin. “Cheers.”

Phil sat down, took a sip from his glass, and delved into his pocket for his mobile. “I’m really sorry,” he said again. “but my Mum was home late, and I couldn’t leave before she got in. She’s rarely late; of course, today had to be one of those times. I could’ve killed her.”

“It’s alright, don’t worry.” Martin was just grateful he had arrived. “Why couldn’t you leave anyway?”

“Oh, it’s my little sister. Well, she’s nearly sixteen, but Mum doesn’t want her in the house on her own. A little overprotective if you ask me, but she is her only daughter, so..” He trailed off, the sentence not needing to be finished.

Looking over at Martin, he still seemed slightly tense. “So, what’s your number? I would’ve rung, but I didn’t have it. Don’t want it happening again.”

Phil fiddled with his mobile phone while Martin gave him his number.

Martin then quietly sat while Phil inputted and stored his number. Sitting back, Phil picked up his pint.

It was challenging for Phil to get Martin talking. He was still very nervous and seemed to have slipped into his shell, just waiting for the experience to be over. He was quite different from when they were in the pub after the art class; Martin was much more talkative and friendly.

All of Phil’s opening small talk had run out, so he could not ask again how his day was, the traffic on the way over, or mention that the weather seemed milder today.

Phil, leaning forward, took hold of Martin’s hand that rested between them on the bench. “Is everything OK? You seem a bit tense.”

“I’m fine,” Martin said, uncomfortable with his touch.

“You’re not narked at me for turning up late. Are you? I wouldn’t blame you. I didn’t want the first date to start this badly.” He sensed Martin recoil slightly when he said the word ‘date’.

“No, I’m just nervous, that’s all.”

“I know. I’m nervous as well. I really want you to like me, and I’m worried you don’t, especially now.”

Martin was shocked. He could not recall anybody wanting to know him that much. He could not understand it; he thought himself ordinary and nothing special. What Phil said made him feel special. He looked him in the eyes.

“You don’t look nervous, but thanks.” Nothing he could say could have portrayed how much better he felt about himself.

“To tell the truth, you’re only the second boy I’ve been out with,” Phil confessed.

“But you’re so much more comfortable with this than me.”

It was not a lie; Phil had only ever been on dates with two boys, Martin being the second.

Martin was relaxing as they talked about the hell of dating, the expectations and the letdowns. Then Phil explained about his first boyfriend.

 

Phil was sixteen and hanging out with his mates at the poorly equipped youth club. Boys and girls from all over the estate used the club and would play basketball or five-a-side football. A new group of boys had joined for the past few weeks, and they hung around each evening. To start with, they kept to themselves but gradually started talking to the regulars. Phil’s mates had spoken to some of them and were getting quite friendly, but one boy always hid behind his friends’ confidence. It turned out they were from the other school on the estate and were bored just hanging around the shops where they lived.

Over the following days, the two groups of friends became one, and the unassuming boy grew in confidence. He stayed on the sidelines with the group but got involved occasionally. His name was Mark, and he had a wicked sense of humour. Phil spoke to him most of the time, and he made him laugh. He noticed that when he was not talking, he always observed what people said and how they reacted. He found people fascinating.

One evening, they decided to get a five-a-side football match going. Phil played for about five minutes before falling over and grazing his knee. He limped off the pitch and watched with Mark, who never really participated in sports, although occasionally he would play in goal.

Phil and Mark were talking, and it appeared that Mark had been weighing Phil up for some weeks. He wanted to speak in private and suggested they go for a walk. Phil agreed, and they walked over to the nearest park. It was pretty cold; even though it was only seven o’clock, it was already dark. The park was deserted. They walked around, and they found a bench to rest on. Mark then declared that he fancied him and asked him on a date.

Phil was shocked and wondered how he had known he was gay. It was unlike Mark asking and hoping for the best. Mark explained that he had been watching his reactions, who he looked at and how for some time. The way he described it, Phil thought it was obvious, and everyone must know, but Mark quickly said it was subtle, and he did not think anyone else knew.

Mark leant forward and kissed Phil on the lips. Phil responded, and they melted in each other’s arms.

They did not stop hanging out with their mates after school but often left them earlier than usual to be with each other. There was not much they could do, so they would go to the park, sit on the bench and make out. They were not worried about anyone seeing them as it was too dark, and if someone came, they could easily hear their footsteps before they got too close. Dog walkers and the occasional jogger interrupted them once or twice.

Mark and Phil would also go round to each other’s houses. It was not unusual for either of them to have their friends call around, and what went off in the bedroom was unknown to their parents.

The relationship lasted for about six months before it turned sour. Phil noticed that they were meeting up less and less, and when they did see each other, Mark always seemed to be remote, his mind somewhere else.

Phil finally confronted Mark, wanting to know the problem. The argument got more heated as it progressed and in a fit of anger, Mark said he was seeing someone else. The relationship was over.

Phil was now over Mark and recounted the story matter-of-factly, leaving out the sordid details of what they got up to together or saying that he would cry in his room every evening after school for a week.

 

Martin had no previous experience dating boys but mentioned his few disastrous dates with girls. For some time, they laughed at each other’s failed attempts with girls before it led to the inevitable, and Phil asked, “So who knows about you being gay?”

“No one, You?” Martin asked.

“Just my brother, your teacher. I confided in him about a year ago. He’s been great. Understanding and not forcing me to tell anyone else until I’m ready.”

“What about your parents?”

“I’m still coming to terms with it myself. I don’t really want to say anything until I’m one hundred per cent sure.”

Martin smiled. “I know. I suppose we just cling to the few small per cent, hoping we would become acceptable.”

“It’s not like I’m ashamed of it. It’s just that I’m not proud yet. I hope that makes sense.”

“It does. I feel the same.”

It was doing both young men good to discuss how they felt. It was helping them come to terms with being gay. Both conceded they were dreading the moment when they told their parents. Phil suggested that as he was going to university next academic year, he might say something before he left.

It was the mixture of an empty stomach and two pints of lager that were helping Martin relax. He and Phil were talking freely.

As the night went on, the pub became busier. Martin got another round of drinks in, and they sat in their corner, watching gay guys flounce in and out. It was not a gay pub; it was what was known as a mixed pub. Phil had been coming here for about a year and made a few friends. It was nerve-wracking initially, but eventually, he became friendly with a few local boys and would arrange to meet most weekends for fun, flirting, and dancing. Phil recognised a few regulars, but they did not see him, so he pretended he had not seen them, preferring to keep the date a one-to-one affair. Besides, it was a weeknight, and they mostly met on weekends, so they weren’t expecting to see him.

The background music got progressively louder. They could still hear each other, but only by raising their voices slightly. Phil edged closer to Martin, who did not seem to mind and placed his arm around his shoulder. He pulled him closer in a half hug, their heads touching.

“Bet you can’t do this in your local.” Phil smiled.

Martin tilted his head to look at Phil. “No.” He said softly. “It feels nice.”

Phil inched closer and delicately placed a kiss on Martin’s slightly parted lips. “Now, that was nice.” Phil brought his other arm around Martin and hugged him properly. He let go and watched Martin, who was quiet and calm.

“I would like to do this again,” Martin said. It was a bold step for him.

“So would I.”

The two boys finished their drinks. It was getting late. It was nearly ten o’clock, which was late for a seventeen-year-old with a weekday curfew.

They got up from their corner and made their way to the door. Phil caught the eye of a couple of the guys at the bar. “I’ll ring you.” He shouted, nodding his head to Martin and indicating his date.

As they left, two poorly made-up crossdressers came through the doors; they must have been in their early forties. Martin looked back at them as he walked through the doors himself. He smiled at Phil, who was close behind him, admiring their courage in being who they were. If only Martin had half their courage.

Outside, the summer evening was drawing to a close. The sun was low, and the darkness was growing. Without the sun, there was a slight chill in the air. Neither Phil nor Martin had brought coats, but they did not feel the need yet.

“Are you on the bus?”

“Yeah. It’s best to get on from the station at this time.”

“Me too. I’ll walk with you.”

They walked through the city centre together, passing the groups and gangs out for a good time. The streets were also littered with young beggars, sitting outside bars and cash machines, looking cold and hungry. Some had dogs to add that extra touch, but all had a dirty blanket for warmth. I suppose the half-inebriated youth were good picking for them.

Of course, they asked Phil and Martin for a bit of change several times, but neither dug their hands into their pockets. They just walked by, ignoring them.

Phil and Martin approached the nearly deserted bus station. The small newsagent kiosk had closed many hours before, and some graffiti-strewn vending machines provided the late-night travellers with hot coffee or chocolate bars.

Martin walked over to the stop where he would catch his bus and looked at the small timetable attached to the pole declaring a large ‘10’ and the final destination of the bus. Turning to Phil, he said that the next bus would go in the next fifteen minutes.

They sat on a nearby bench. They saw the occasional person walking through the station or hanging around waiting for their bus. The station was cold and was nothing more than a large concrete box; sounds echoed, and the noise from the passing busses amplified to a deafening roar.

They declared their intentions to ring each other and arrange to go out again at the weekend. Both enjoyed their time together and were keen to see each other gain.

Martin’s bus arrived, and the doors wheezed open.

“Well, goodbye, then,” Martin said.

“Bye. I’ll ring you tomorrow. What’s a good time?”

“Anytime between six and nine. Mum doesn’t like people ringing after nine; she likes to relax in front of the telly.”

“Between six and nine, it is then. You go get on the bus.” Phil smiled at Martin.

Martin turned round and headed for the bus. As he took his first step, he felt a hand lightly squeeze his buttock. As he walked, he turned and smiled at Phil.

With Martin safely on the bus, Phil turned and left to catch his bus on the other side of the city.

Martin watched for as long as possible as he walked out of sight, and the bus jerked as it moved, taking him home.

 

It was approaching half past ten when he reached his front door and quietly pushed his latchkey into the lock. He saw the light coming through the curtains in the living room, so he knew someone was still awake, probably his parents. Not knowing who would be up, he wanted to be as quiet as possible. He also wanted to avoid an interrogation tonight from his parents and was eager to get upstairs and to bed.

He closed the door quietly and poked around the front room door. Both his parents were still up watching some courtroom drama.

“I’m back. See you in the morning.” Martin said.

“How was it?” His Mum asked.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow. I’m pretty tired and I’ve got college tomorrow.”

He had casually dismissed his mother’s question and went upstairs quietly. Tony was bound to be asleep, but he did not doubt that James would be waiting for him.

Martin opened his bedroom door and went it. The lights were still on, and James sat in bed listening to music and reading his book.

“Hiya. Good night?” James enquired.

“Not bad.”

“I can smell the smoke on your clothes, and no doubt if I got closer, there would be quite a few pints on your breath.”

“Yeah, so.” Martin went over to his bed and sat down. “Thanks for the clothes, by the way.”

“Anything to help. Will you need them again?” He pried.

“Perhaps.”

James continued questioning him about his night, but Martin said he would tell him tomorrow. Tonight, he just wanted to get to bed and go to sleep.

Martin stripped down to his briefs and went to the bathroom to wash up. When he returned, he went straight into bed, and James turned off the light. He went to sleep that night with a smile, thinking of Phil.

 

James’ Diary
Martin’s got a date tonight. He wasn’t saying much before he left, so I’ll have to wear him down later to get all the details from him. He seemed really nervous this time. His last date was several years ago, if you could call it a date, and I don’t remember him being so anxious. I wonder if it is serious.

I can’t remember the last time he went out, but having the room to myself for a change was nice. After getting all my work done I used the opportunity to lie on my bed and relax.

School was boring today. You can tell when it gets close to the end of term, as the teachers don’t really give a shit anymore. We spent most of the day messing around and chatting through all the lessons.

I also got a phone call today. It was from Tom. I met him when I was at the studios, and he’ll be with me at the TV show we are making. We discovered that we lived close to each other when we met, so we swapped numbers. He was quite nice and friendly, and I’m glad I will get on with at least one person I go with. We chatted for some time on the phone; his parents are a bit concerned about letting him go. The way he put it, he was an only child, and they liked to know what he was doing every moment of the day. It sounds like they’re having trouble letting him go. But they probably just reacted like parents. After all, it is a long time to be away from home and, to make matters worse, we will be abroad, so we can’t just be home in a few hours. He said it took him several hours of convincing before they said he could do it. He’s really excited about going and can’t wait. We’ve arranged to go out on Saturday and meet up in town. He’s got a little shopping to do, so we’ll grab a burger and perhaps see a film.

 

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