Shameless (20 page)

“Are you coming in, then?” Graham asked, holding the door open with one hand and waving at her with the other.

Caroline stared back at him. “Graham, would you mind telling me just exactly what we’re doing here?”

“All in good time,” he said. “Now, come on. I think the show is about to start.”

He led her through the busy front bar, which was filled with men who looked nothing like those she’d seen the previous weekend at Love Muscle—partly because they had their shirts on, and partly because the shirts they happened to be wearing didn’t look particularly fashionable. A few heads turned as they squeezed their way through the crowds and entered the noisy rear bar, where attention was taken off Caroline and focused onto a stage at the far end of the room. As they found an empty place at the bar and Graham ordered the drinks, the music suddenly stopped, and a chorus of shrieks and whistles announced the arrival onstage of an aging drag queen in a red curly wig and a dress that was probably once white but which a combination of sweat and beer had turned a pale yellow. It didn’t take long for Caroline to form a pretty good idea of how the beer stains might have got there. As the drag queen proceeded to mime away inexpertly to a series of Shirley Bassey numbers, the crowd’s enthusiasm waned considerably, until finally the cries of “Off!” threatened to drown out even the Welsh warbler’s amplified vocal performance. By the end of the show, the only person who still appeared to be enjoying himself was Graham, who never took his eyes off the stage for a moment, and whose applause never dwindled.

As the drag queen wandered off, still smiling bravely and blowing kisses to the baying crowd, Graham turned to Caroline and asked her what she thought of the show.

“I thought it was terribIe,” she said.

Graham grinned. “Yes, it was pretty bad, wasn’t it? Still, it’s only his third time onstage. It’s probably just nerves. I’m sure he’ll get better with practice.”

Caroline stared at him incredulously. “Do you mean to tell me that you actually know that person?”

Graham hesitated, then turned to wave at the drag queen, who waved back as he made his way through the crowd toward them.

“Graham,” Caroline hissed. “Would you please tell me what’s going on?”

“Just a minute,” Graham said, and stepped forward to greet the drag queen. Then, placing a hand on the drag queen’s shoulder, he turned back to face her. “Caroline,” he said, smiling awkwardly. “Allow me to introduce you to my father.”

The drag queen winked and offered Caroline a hand the size of a garden spade. “Pleased to meet you,” he said in a gruff voice. “Graham has told me a lot about you.”

Caroline stared back at him in disbelief. “Really?” she said, suddenly remembering her manners and shaking his hand. “He’s told me absolutely nothing about you.”

Saturday nights at Crash were always busy, and tonight was no exception. Elbowing their way through the mass of wide-eyed muscle queens packed like veal calves and swaying in time to the music, Martin, Neil and John queued for ten minutes with their coats and finally made it onto the dance floor in time for the E to come up. Fernando had long since disappeared. He and John had barely spoken to each other since leaving John’s flat and climbing into the back of Neil’s car for the drive across town. By the time Neil found a place to park a short walk away from the club, the atmosphere inside the car had taken a turn for the worse, resulting in Fernando shouting something in Portuguese before leaping out and disappearing into the club ahead of the others. That was the last anyone had seen of him.

As the sudden rush of the E blended with the buzz from the coke he’d had earlier, and Neil began passing round the bottle of K, Martin concentrated on clearing his mind of negative thoughts. Given the situation with Fernando, he hadn’t said anything to John about the conversation he’d had with Camp David moments before the party ended. But based on what David had told him, he certainly intended to have his say once tonight was over. According to David, the reason Martin’s father had been bombarding him with self-help books and free condoms for the past three months was that John had taken him aside at Gay Pride and expressed concern about his son’s emotional and physical well-being, even going so far as to suggest that Martin should probably be persuaded to go for an HIV test. What possible motive John could have for planting such ideas in his father’s head, Martin couldn’t begin to imagine. But the knowledge that John had spoken out of turn in this instance left him in little doubt that John was also the person responsible for Shane being so well informed about his breakup with Christopher. Frustrating as it was, Martin knew that now was not the best time to take any of this up with John, who, judging by the dopey grin spreading across his face, was in a far happier place than he had been for the past couple of hours.

“I think I’m getting my second wind,” Neil said suddenly. Earlier in the car, Neil had complained of feeling nauseous. Evidently this was no longer the case. Watching as he took out his bottle of K and jammed it in his right nostril, Martin took it for granted that Neil would be up for a third, fourth and possibly even fifth wind before the night was out.

“Do you remember when we only used to take one type of drug on a night out?” Neil asked, handing Martin the K bottle.

“I can remember when I didn’t take any drugs at all,” Martin replied, and laughed at how ridiculous it sounded. Hovering next to him, two men locked together in a sweaty embrace with their tongues firmly lodged down one another’s throats suddenly came up for air and gazed longingly at the bottle he held in his hand.

“This is fantastic!” John announced, throwing his head back and flinging his arms wide open. “Can you feel it? This is the best feeling in the world! Can you feel it? It’s amazing!”

Realizing that John probably wasn’t ready for a bump of K just yet, Martin turned to return the bottle to Neil, who had his hand clasped tightly over his mouth. His eyes were watering and he was making a strange hacking sound, like a cat coughing up a hair ball. “Are you okay?” Martin said, touching Neil’s shoulder.

Neil nodded and spluttered before gently lowering his hand from his mouth and staring at the tiny puddle of vomit that lay in his palm. “I think I just threw up my E,” he said, studying the contents of his palm some more and then lifting his hand back to his mouth and gobbling the whole lot down again. “Better to be safe than sorry,” he said, grinning happily and reaching out for the K bottle. “I wouldn’t want some queen finding an E on the floor that I paid good money for, even if I did have the first bite at it.”

Martin handed Neil the bottle and turned away in disgust. Maybe it was the effects of the K, or maybe it was the shock, but suddenly everything seemed to go into slow motion. Seeing the look of horror on John’s face, Martin stared at him quizzically before turning and focusing on the spot where Neil had been standing only moments ago. Only now he wasn’t standing. He was lying flat on his back on the floor. His legs were thrashing about, his eyes were wide open in a glassy stare, and blood was foaming out of his mouth. He looked like a fish that had just been hooked, which Martin thought was a strange thing to pop into his head at a time like this, and which added to the general sense of unreality. A few people had stopped dancing and were staring blankly at the man gasping for air on the floor in front of them. Most carried on as if nothing remotely unusual were happening.

“Oh, my God!” Martin cried, and looked around in desperation for someone to step in and tell him what to do. He reached out to John, who was backing away slowly, mouthing something about needing to find Fernando. Suddenly a woman appeared from nowhere and knelt down beside Neil, turning him over onto his side, forcing her hand into his mouth and pulling out his tongue. “Help me!” she shouted at Martin, who fell to the floor next to her and followed her instructions to pin Neil down while she tried to clear the obstruction in his throat. People were beginning to move away now. A path cleared and two men in white uniforms appeared, lifting up Neil’s limp body and carrying him off across the dance floor. Martin stood frozen to the spot, wondering why the music was still playing and watching as Neil’s white face and wide lifeless eyes bobbed along through the parting crowds and finally disappeared from view. There was a brief moment of hesitation as people exchanged puzzled looks and then everything reverted to normal. Within a matter of minutes, it was as if Neil had never even been there.

Martin looked around for John, who was nowhere to be seen, then started wading through the crowd until he reached the entrance to the club. “I’m looking for my friend,” he shouted at the security guard. “They just carried him off.”

Someone tapped him on the shoulder and he spun around. Suddenly everything froze. Standing there in front of him was the man Martin had lived with and loved for the best part of four years—Christopher. He looked exactly as he had done the last time Martin saw him, that night on the dance floor at Heaven—shirtless and handsome and, judging by the size of his eyes, pumped full of happy pills. The only difference was, he didn’t have Marco’s muscular arms wrapped around him. Tonight, in this club, for this moment at least, Christopher was on his own. And the strangest thing was, as Martin stared at him and tried to figure out what, if anything, to say, he suddenly realized that he felt no emotional connection with this person at all. There were no sudden stirrings in his stomach, like a small animal turning over in its sleep. There was no flush of love, no anger, no pain, no bitterness, nothing. That was all so far in the past, it was almost as if it had never happened, almost as if Christopher and he had never been anything more than casual acquaintances. It felt odd, and at the same time it made complete sense. They weren’t the same people they were before. The man he used to be in love with no longer existed. In his place was this person Martin barely even knew. And in place of the life they had once shared, there was a new life full of new experiences, new possibilities and new friends.

“I’m looking for my friend,” Martin said finally.

Christopher frowned, then turned and pointed him toward the front office. Just then the door to the office opened and a man Martin recognized as a DJ from one of the cheesier clubs in the West End walked out carrying two large record boxes.

Martin rushed up to him. “They took my friend in there,” he said, grabbing the DJ’s arm. “Is he all right?”

The DJ rolled his eyes and mimed someone having their throat cut. “Sorry,” he said with a spiteful little smile and promptly disappeared.

Nineteen

I
t took another
fifteen minutes for the ambulance to arrive and for Martin to digest the fact that Neil hadn’t actually died, but was already semiconscious and was being taken to a local hospital to have his stomach pumped and to check that there was no permanent damage. Sitting in the back of the ambulance, watching as Neil was fitted with an oxygen mask and feeling that he was somehow being held responsible for what had happened, Martin responded to the nurse’s urgent calls for information as quickly and as fully as he could.

“What’s his name?”

“Neil.”

“What has he taken?”

“Ecstasy.”

“How many pills?”

“I don’t know. One. Maybe two.”

“Anything else?”

“Some coke. A few lines, I think. And some K.”

The nurse clutched Neil’s hand and peered into his face. “Can you hear me, Neil? Squeeze my hand if you can hear me.” She turned and looked at Martin with a wry smile. “You boys don’t do things by halves, do you?” she said. “Don’t worry. I think your friend is going to be all right.”

By the time they arrived at the hospital, Neil had spared himself the indignity of having his stomach pumped by spewing up the contents of his belly, and was sitting up and cracking jokes.

“It isn’t funny, Neil,” Martin said as they wheeled him into the accident and emergency department. “For a while back there, I thought you were dead.”

Neil smiled up at him. “Sorry about that,” he said. “What happened to John?”

Martin shrugged. “What do you think? At the first sign of trouble, he decided it was time he looked for Fernando. I haven’t seen him since.”

“And how are you feeling?”

“Me? I’m fine. Why?”

Neil laughed. “Because you don’t look fine. Your eyes are like saucers. You look like shit.”

The nurse who helped Neil into his temporary bed and left him to produce a urine sample while she jotted down some details was a no-nonsense type with permed, plum-colored hair and a smoker’s cough. “So where’ve you two been tonight?” she asked Martin.

“Crash.”

“Oh, they’re all posers there,” she said with a wink. “I live near the Fridge. They’re all posers there, too.”

Martin smiled, “Where do you go out, then?”

She laughed. “I don’t. I get enough excitement here. Your friend’s the fourth one we’ve had in tonight. Must be some bad pills going round. Still, I don’t suppose that will stop you.”

Martin stared at the floor.

“You might as well go home,” she added gently. “The doctor won’t be free to see him for a while yet, and then he’ll have to wait for his test results. I’ll tell him to call you when he’s ready.”

“He’ll be all right, won’t he?”

She gave a crooked smile. “I should think so. Until the next time.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before that your father was gay?” Caroline asked. It was the early hours of the morning and she and Graham were sitting at her kitchen table, talking in circles as their coffee went cold.

“I only found out myself about six months ago,” he said. “Timing was never Dad’s strong point. Thirty-two years of marriage and suddenly he decides he can’t go on living a lie. Mum was devastated. I’m still getting used to the idea.”

Caroline shook her head. “I can’t begin to imagine what your mum must be going through.”

Graham smiled. “Really? I would have thought you’d have no trouble putting yourself in her place.”

She looked away. “You seemed pretty cool with your dad earlier.”

“Well, the group has helped.”

“You mean C.L.A.G.?”

“Yes. Children of Lesbians and Gays. Dad put me on to them. They’ve been great. That’s where I met Darren, the guy whose message you overheard. His father was arrested in a public toilet and tried to hang himself. Compared to what he’s been through, I’ve had it easy.”

“And Charlotte?”

“Charlotte’s having other problems. She’s always known that her mother was a lesbian. But now her mother has started blaming herself for Charlotte turning out gay, too.”

“What about you?”

Graham grinned. “Well, contrary to popular opinion, I’m not following in my father’s footsteps. Besides, I can’t walk in heels.”

Caroline blushed. “I meant, do you blame him?”

“I’m not ashamed of him, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“But you must have been embarrassed, or you’d have told me earlier.”

“I suppose I was a bit embarrassed at first, yes. But who isn’t embarrassed by their parents sometimes?”

Caroline pictured her mother and was forced to agree. “I’m glad you took me to meet your dad,” she said finally.

“Me, too,” Graham said. “His act needs a bit of work, though, doesn’t it? And he could probably do with one of your makeovers.”

Caroline laughed. “It could be worse. At least he wasn’t up there having sex.”

“What?”

“Oh, nothing,” she said. “Just some other drag act I saw once. Anyway, it’s getting late. Shall I call you a cab, or would you like to stay over?”

He smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Before leaving to collect Neil from the hospital the following morning, Martin phoned his father.

“It’s a bit early for you on a Sunday, isn’t it, son?” his father asked with a slightly anxious tone. “Nothing wrong, is there?”

“Not really,” Martin said. “Well, not in the way you think anyway. The thing is, Dad—I know what John said to you, about how he thought I should go for an HIV test. He had no right saying that. I’m fine, really. I don’t know where he gets some of his ideas from.”

“Well, I’m sure he didn’t mean any harm,” his father said, somewhat charitably. “He is your friend, after all.”

“Yes, so he tells me,” Martin replied flatly. “Anyway, that’s for us to sort out. I just wanted you to know that there’s nothing for you to worry about. I’m fine. I know how to take care of myself.”

His father chuckled. “I’m sure you do. You always did.”

“What do you mean?”

“Even as a kid, you were always the strong one. It was your brother I worried about. Especially after the divorce.”

Martin took a moment to take this in. “Really? You never told me that before.”

“Perhaps I should have done so,” his father replied. “It isn’t always easy being a parent, you know. There are a few things I’d do differently if I had my time again.”

“You did okay,” Martin said gently. “Oh, and there’s just one other thing, Dad. Those self-help books you keep sending. I know you mean well, but I honestly don’t need them. I hope you’re not offended.”

“Of course not,” his father assured him. “I’ll tell you what. The money I save by not sending those books I can put toward coming up and seeing you again sometime soon. How about that?”

Martin smiled. “That sounds great, Dad.”

When the taxi pulled up at the hospital half an hour later, Martin was surprised to find Neil waiting outside. He looked a little pale and his pupils were like pinpricks, but other than that, he seemed fully recovered.

“The doctor says I should avoid taking drugs for a while,” Neil said as he climbed into the backseat.

“Maybe you should think about giving them up for good,” Martin replied, amazed that Neil would even consider taking drugs ever again. “What happened last night wasn’t just some minor mishap. It was serious.”

“I know that,” Neil said sulkily, and turned to stare out the window. “Maybe it’s something I should talk over with my therapist,” he added quietly. “What do you think?”

Martin gritted his teeth. “I think that would be a good idea, Neil.”

They continued the journey in silence, and when the taxi finally pulled up outside the flat, Martin took a few minutes to persuade Neil that now was not a good time to go and collect his car before ushering him inside.

“I think I’ll go and lie down for a bit,” Neil said as they entered the flat. He stopped outside his bedroom door and turned to Martin. “Thanks for everything. You’ve been great.” And with that, he disappeared into his room.

Martin hung up his jacket and drifted into the living room. The answering machine was blinking to indicate that there were two new messages.

The first message was from Caroline.

“Hi, babes,” she said. “I’m just calling to say that I took your advice and called Graham and that we’ve sorted everything out. I’ve got loads more to tell you. Honestly, you won’t believe some of what’s been happening. Call me as soon as you can. Lots of love, and thanks for the other night. Oh, and I’ve left a message on your cell, too, so if you hear this one first, just ignore it. Okay, bye.”

The second message was from John.

“Hello, daughter,” it began. “Look, I know you’re probably a bit pissed off with me after last night, but I just wanted to ring and check that Neil’s okay. I saw the ambulance arrive, so I assume he didn’t die or anything. Also, Fernando’s a bit worried about the police getting involved and his name being mentioned, but I told him he could trust you to keep him out of it. Anyway, I’m in all day, so call me when you get this message.”

Martin reached for the phone, then thought better of it. Some things were better said in person. Creeping about the flat so as not to disturb Neil, he put on his jacket, picked up his cell phone, and slipped quietly out the door.

John and Fernando hadn’t said more than two words to each other all morning. There was one very good reason for this. Ever since they left the club together last night and came back to John’s flat, all that seemed to concern Fernando was whether or not his name would be mentioned in connection with Neil’s apparent overdose on the dance floor. As he explained to John, it wasn’t just the police he was worried about. If word got out that it was he who had supplied Neil with drugs last night, his business would suffer terribly—at least for a week or two. Much to John’s annoyance, Fernando had been so preoccupied with Neil’s little misadventure that he appeared to have completely forgotten about the whole point of last night’s party. Having risked public humiliation by inviting Fernando to move in with him, John was still waiting for an answer.

To make matters worse, Fernando’s silence on this particular subject seemed to have coincided with a sudden lack of interest in other departments. Despite the fact that they had arrived home last night high on a combination of E and K, and had then proceeded to work their way through a gram of coke, they hadn’t fallen into their usual routine of pouring a stiff drink and having wild, druggy sex on the living-room floor. Instead, they had fallen into bed, where Fernando promptly passed out. And when he nudged John awake this morning, it wasn’t sex he wanted but further reassurance that Martin wouldn’t mention his name to the police. Finally, after persuading John to phone Martin and leave a message, Fernando had gone out to clear his head.

He had been gone for the best part of an hour now, leaving John to clean up the mess from last night’s party and gradually work himself up into an indignant rage. He was elbow deep in soapsuds and practically foaming at the mouth when the buzzer rang. Expecting it to be Fernando armed with a bunch of flowers, an apology and possibly even a suitcase or two, John dried his hands and ran to open the door.

“Hello, John,” Martin said.

John made little attempt to disguise the disappointment in his voice. “Oh, it’s you,” he said. “I thought you were Fernando.”

“I need to talk to you,” Martin replied. There was a steely quality to his voice John hadn’t heard before.

“What about?” John said, suddenly panicking and peering over Martin’s shoulder. “Oh, my God, the police aren’t with you, are they?”

“Of course not!” Martin snapped. “And in case you’re wondering, Neil is fine.”

John blushed ever so slightly. “Oh, I see. That’s great news,” he said, stepping back from the door. “Well, I suppose you’d better come in.”

Martin didn’t move. “There’s no need,” he said. “This won’t take long. I just came here to tell you that I know what you’ve been saying behind my back. I know what you told Shane about me and Christopher. And I know what you said to my dad about how I should go for an HIV test. I couldn’t believe it at first, but then it all sort of fitted together. I don’t know why I was surprised. I’ve always known you could be a spiteful little queen. I just never imagined that you would be so disloyal. Now that I know, I’m really not sure I want to be your friend anymore. Anyway, I think that’s all I came to say. Oh yes, one more thing. I bumped into Fernando on the way here. He was sitting in that café next to the tube station. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but I got the distinct impression that he won’t be moving in. He said something about going back to Brazil.”

For the first time in all the years that they had known each other, John found himself completely lost for words. He simply stood mouth agape as Martin turned and walked away.

Martin left Stockwell tube station and was turning into his street when his cell phone rang.

“Hi, baby,” Caroline’s voice said. “It’s me. Where’ve you been? I’ve been trying to track you down all day.”

“There was something I needed to do,” he replied. “Sorry I didn’t get back to you before. I got your message about you and Graham. That’s great news.”

“You sound a bit strange,” she said. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I had a bit of a drama last night. Neil ended up in the hospital, but he seems all right now. And I ran into Christopher. It was weird seeing him again, but I feel kind of okay with it.”

Caroline sounded doubtful. “Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t sound it.”

“I’m just tired, that’s all. I’ll tell you all about it later. Look, I’m almost home now. I’ll call you back in a little while, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll be at home. But make it quick. I’m worried.”

Martin laughed. “Not you as well. I’ve had enough of that with my dad. I’ll call you back in half an hour, I promise. Now can I please go? I have to find my keys.”

He let himself into the flat and padded quietly past Neil’s door and into the living room. The light on the answering machine was flashing. It would be John no doubt, phoning with some tart response to their earlier conversation. Maybe it would be best to leave it until later. He really was feeling incredibly tired. Then again, if it was John on the machine, Martin didn’t really want Neil hearing whatever nasty little speech John had composed as his rejoinder. He hit the play button.