Hard Tail (16 page)

Or push me face-first into the stinging nettles. All right, he’d only ever done that the once—and Gran had given him a proper tongue-lashing for it—but whenever he’d been around, he’d always managed to be the centre of attention. Jay was always the talker, whereas I was the quiet one, often to be found with my nose stuck in a book. Jay was the one who’d be falling out of trees or coming home from the park with spectacularly bloodied knees from some daft stunt on the roundabout.

I’d be the one who’d be constantly nagged to
leave that, don’t climb that, stop running…because you know what happened to your brother
. Conversely, when I decided in my teens I’d like to start karate—mainly, as it happened, because I had a crush on a boy from school who went, but that was neither here nor there—the expected argument totally failed to materialise. Presumably, if Jay wasn’t doing it, it couldn’t be dangerous.

We soon got to a clearing, where the lads stopped and gathered round what I first took to be some kind of forest sculpture—then I realised someone had built a sort of see-saw out of a tree-trunk and some fallen branches lashed together. From his delighted cries of “It’s still here!” I deduced that someone had been Tel.

“Going to give it a go?” he asked Matt.

For a moment, I thought they were actually going to sit on it like kids. Then Matt lined his bike up with the down side and pedalled slowly onto the decidedly unsafe-looking see-saw. I found I was holding my breath as he reached the midpoint and paused to let it tip, but he handled it well and let the bike roll down.

Matt having made it unscathed—perhaps they used him as the mountain-biking equivalent of a miner’s canary?—we were all expected to have a go. When it came to my turn, I gamely approached the see-saw, which appeared to have doubled in height since Andy had wobbled his way over.

“G’won!” Adam shouted.

Oh, bloody hell. What was the worst that could happen? Oh, yes—I could end up in hospital with Jay. I glanced at Matt, and he gave me an encouraging smile. Warmth flooded through me.

“Don’t be a wuss!” Phil yelled, which turned the thermostat right back down again.

I pedalled my way onto the down side. It was harder than it looked to stay balanced, but I made it to the midpoint, at which my stomach dropped sharply as the see-saw did likewise. “Whoa!” I shouted without meaning to, barely managing to stay upright as it jolted with impact and I zipped back down to earth a lot faster than I’d intended—although fortunately without actually falling off my bike altogether. “Hey, that was fun!”

The others all laughed at my obvious surprise. “Yeah, that’s kind of the point,” Andy said. “Something from the mini-bar to celebrate?” He had his hip flask out again, and we all took a swig. It didn’t burn quite so much this time going down.

We strung out a bit as we went through the forest, the order we rode in changing at every gate (although Adam always seemed to end up behind me, for some reason). It was, as Matt had mentioned, fairly flat, but there were plenty of natural obstacles to negotiate—tree roots, deep ruts left by winter cyclists, horse dung and the odd muddy puddle, some where you’d least expect them. As I whizzed through one and felt mud splatter up my back, I reflected that at least now I’d look the part.

“Reckon I’m dirty enough to be a real mountain biker?” I asked Adam the next time we stopped for a gate and a swig of Andy’s “muscle relaxant”.

Adam gave me a speculative look. “Y’could get a lot dirtier than that,” he said with an odd smile.

He was probably right. There were undoubtedly a lot more puddles to come tonight.

“’Ere, Tim—I wish my wife was as dirty as you!” Andy interrupted. Everyone laughed uproariously at the cringeably old joke, including me. I decided I’d better refuse all offers of refreshments from now on if I didn’t want to get done for drunk driving on the way home.

The New Forest, I was beginning to learn, was definitely not one of those places where you couldn’t see the wood for the trees. Although a lot of it was, as you might expect, thickly forested, there were also large expanses of grass and heathland. They were great for varying the pace, letting us cruise for a bit before plunging back into the trees, where all the frantic twisting and turning, braking and accelerating kept us on our toes and took a lot more effort.

We passed through a thick stretch of dense gorse—one variety of forest life, at least, that even I could identify—then the view opened up on one side to show a field full of grazing deer, graceful and majestic in the twilight. All too soon we were at the next gate, which led us into enclosed woodland I guessed must be some kind of timber plantation, judging from the uniformity of the trees.

“Y’all right?” Adam asked, coming up behind me.

“I’m fine,” I reassured him. “Don’t worry,” I added, remembering the magazine article. “I’m not about to bonk.”

Adam grinned. “Y’ sure ’bout that?”

“Well, I don’t think so—but you probably know a lot more about it than I do.”

“Bet y’re a quick learner,” he said in my ear.

For a bizarre moment, I wondered if he could possibly be flirting with me.

But that was ridiculous. As far as he knew, I was straight. When had I got so big-headed I assumed every gay guy I met wanted to get off with me? If I hadn’t known he was gay, the thought wouldn’t even have crossed my mind. Shaking my head at myself, I cycled on, touched by his concern for the new guy and bolstered by his certainty that I was picking things up all right.

From there we passed into another enclosure, but this one was totally different, the trail snaking through a jumble of all kinds of trees that could only have grown up naturally. Darkness seemed to fall early in the forest, and we all switched on our lights. It was while I was following Matt and trying not to let his arse distract me from the trail that I became aware of an altogether furrier rump bumbling along the trail just in front of him. It speeded up as he passed but didn’t leave the track, and I passed it in my turn—then looked back to catch a glimpse of a striped black-and-white face, just before it decided it had had enough of life in the fast lane and disappeared into the bracken.

Matt had stopped to take a drink of water—at least, I assumed it was water he was carrying—just up ahead. “Did you see that?” he asked as I pulled up alongside him.

“Yes—I can’t believe it! That’s the first badger I’ve ever seen, if you don’t count roadkill.” I tried not to sound like a kid on his first trip to Disneyland, but I doubt I succeeded. “I suppose you see them all the time,” I added.

Matt shook his head as he shoved his drink back in its holder. “Nah—we’ve been lucky tonight. That’s only the second time I’ve seen one.”

“Really?” I was ridiculously pleased I’d been able to share this rare moment with him. For a moment, the darkness of the forest felt like intimacy—as if we were alone here. I took a deep breath—

Then Adam emerged from the gloom and skidded to a halt beside us. “Whassup?”

Matt smiled. “Nothing, Adam. Come on, let’s get moving.”

The moon was high and almost full as we got back to the car park. I was tired but not exhausted, which made me strongly suspect the lads had been taking it easy tonight for my benefit.

“You enjoy it, then, your first time out?” Andy asked, proffering the now much emptier hip flask.

I waved it away with a smile. “It was great. My arse took a bit of a pounding, though, going over all those tree roots.” I rubbed the area in question, wincing theatrically.

There was a warm breath on the back of my neck, and I turned to see Adam behind me. “Y’ll get used to it,” he said with an odd look on his face.

“Oh, yes, I’m sure I will—if you don’t mind me coming back out next week,” I said, my gaze sweeping the group.

There was a general chorus of
yeah, course, glad to have you, mate.
Adam leaned in again. “Y’ c’n come out any time y’ want.”

I smiled, pleased to find all Matt’s mates being so friendly.

We hung around chatting for a long while before Matt announced he had to be off, which seemed to be the general signal to start dismantling bikes and bunging them in cars, or simply hanging them on cycle racks and driving off, as the case might be.

I watched Matt’s old Ford Focus tootle off with a dull ache of regret.

Chapter Twelve

My legs were a bit stiff as I hobbled downstairs Friday morning, and I nearly tripped over the cat. “Kill me and you don’t get fed,” I warned him. Wolverine gave a solemn
miaow
to show he understood. Or maybe it was just feline for “Hah! Your corpse will keep me going for
weeks
.”

I felt good, though. I’d been out like a light the minute I’d got into bed last night, and if I’d dreamed, my subconscious was keeping the details strictly to itself. I felt refreshed, energised and ready to face whatever the day might throw at me.

Which, of course, it promptly did, just as soon as I’d got in the shop and opened up for the day.

“Er, Tim?” Matt’s voice was diffident, almost nervous. “Do you mind if I take tomorrow off? I’ll make sure I’ve done all the repairs that are supposed to be getting picked up. It’s just, I never used to work Saturdays, before, and Steve’s getting a bit pissed off about it. He wants to go down to Brighton tonight, and we won’t get back until really late.”

“Oh—yes, of course,” I said, trying not to let my disappointment show. It hadn’t occurred to me that Matt might have increased his hours since Jay’s accident—but of course, Jay would have done some of the repairs too, as well as all the behind-the-counter stuff. “Wouldn’t want to be the cause of any domestics.” Matt gave me a startled look. Great. I’d put my foot in it again. “Not that you’d—anyway, that’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

Far from being reassured, Matt looked like he wished he’d never asked. “Are you sure? ’Cause I could always—”

“No! No, I’ll be fine. You go and have fun.”

“Right.” Matt looked more like I’d said “You go and lie down on that rack there, and I’ll fetch the thumbscrews.” “Thanks,” he added unconvincingly and scuttled off out back.

I felt flatter than a deflated inner tube. Okay, so a lot of my time in the shop was spent with Matt in a different room, but he was still
there
. Tomorrow I’d be all alone. No one to talk to; no one to bring me lunch…

Damn. Quite apart from missing Matt personally, I’d got rather used to having at least one decent meal a day.

My depression lifted, however, as it suddenly occurred to me what a golden opportunity this was. With Matt being whisked away for a dirty weekend in Brighton there was absolutely zero chance of bumping into him if I decided to, let’s say, investigate the gay scene this evening.

Just as an observer, obviously. I certainly wasn’t planning on trying to pull. I just wanted to dip a toe into the water; that was all. Definitely not any other part of my anatomy—no matter how much it might perk up at the very idea. As a couple of customers mooched in, I was glad to be firmly behind the counter at this point.

Anyway, it was a perfect opportunity to test the waters without risking it getting back to my family—and one that might not come my way again for a while, I realised. Thank God for Russell opening my eyes to the possibilities.

Back home that evening, I switched on the computer to Google the places Matt had mentioned. I wasn’t sure I could cope with cruisey, so I was about to type in El Niño—then I remembered that was apparently Luke’s favourite haunt. Luke was one person I did
not
want to run into when I took my first bumbling steps towards a pinker lifestyle. Cruisey it would have to be. My heart gave a little flutter of excitement at the thought of being cruised—and yes, all right, so did my prick.

There weren’t any pictures of the interior of the Cock online, just one of the outside, from which I could tell absolutely nothing. It definitely said it was a gay pub on the website, though—and even promised a drag act on Saturdays. Fortunately, today was Friday. I didn’t think I was anything like ready for that level of camp just yet.

I spent the best part of an hour worrying about what to wear. Anything too tight, too sparkly, or designed to show off the nipple piercings I didn’t, in fact, have was definitely out, but then neither my wardrobe nor Jay’s contained anything remotely like that in any case. It still left the question of whether to dress up or down. On the whole, I decided,
down
was probably safer. I might end up looking like a straight guy who’d wandered in by mistake, but that’d be way better than having obviously made an effort and
still
got it embarrassingly wrong. So I kept the jeans and changed the shirt I’d been wearing all day for an only slightly smarter but, more to the point, fresher one.

Then I had a moment of crippling doubt—maybe the place would have a no-jeans policy? I ditched the jeans and put on some chinos. Great. Now I looked like my mother had dressed me. I sighed and changed back into the jeans. Everyone wore jeans everywhere these days, didn’t they? In fact, thinking about it, I couldn’t believe I’d managed so long without a pair. Wolverine padded noiselessly into the room and wound his way between my legs, the combination of weight and sheer feline bulk nearly making me do a Matt and land on my arse on the carpet. If I’d kept the chinos on, they’d have been a mess, what with all the ginger fur Wolverine was shedding, but luckily it didn’t really show on denim. I decided to take this as the gods’ approval of my sartorial choices.