The Beat (5 page)

“Steve’s coming up so we can go to lunch early. You don’t mind if I go now, do you?” He wondered why she had asked.

“No, no, I don’t mind.” Love wasn’t only for the young, it was only for the straight.

Steve sat on the corner of Sue’s desk and looked slightly awkward. She had gone to wash her hands, her euphem-ism for going to the toilet. Gerry thought Steve felt awkward at being left with him. He cleared his throat,

“I haven’t congratulated you on your engagement yet,” he said. Steve looked across at him swinging his leg nervously.

“Yeah,” he said and looked down.

“Should I?” asked Gerry.

“What?”

“Congratulate you.” Steve laughed, “Yeah.” Gerry leaned back and looked at him. Steve shifted uncomfortably under the attention. Gerry continued to watch him. He had known Steve for ages on speaking terms, but he didn’t really know the kid well — just the kid from the mail room. He must be shorter than Sue, he thought. A nice kid but such easy prey, so unsure of himself. Steve said, “It’s what she wanted and you know Sue.” He followed his own line of thought and lapsed into silence. Gerry let the silence grow. He wondered if Steve too could behave like the boy in the park. He was so ordinary but so had this Kevin been. He was just an office boy too, just someone like Steve. Somehow Gerry couldn’t quite see Steve as a poofter basher. He smiled to himself. Who would see him as a killer either? Yet he was more proud of that than any other single action in his life. He was sure for once he had been right and that their action had been justified.

“You’re not married, are you?” Steve knew he wasn’t. “You wouldn’t believe what it’s like. All the organizing and that.” It seemed to Gerry that the kid couldn’t unravel what he wanted to say.

“But it’s worth it, isn’t it?” Gerry helped him.

“I don’t know.” Steve scratched his head comically and gazed at the floor. “Everyone says it is. Everyone goes through it.” Then he looked at Gerry and added, “’Cept you.”

“’Cept me,” Gerry repeated. And suddenly Sue was back with them and bristling to go. Her mother had packed them both sandwiches for lunch. They were saving now and buying lunch was a luxury. Gerry felt he ought to say something, so repeated to Sue, “I was just congratulating Steve.” He gave Steve a conspiratorial look. Steve smiled gratefully back. They were about to go when Steve turned back for a moment and said awkwardly, “Some of the guys are taking me for a drink tonight, do you want to come?” Gerry paused. He never drank with the boys.

“It would be good if you could come,” Steve urged.

“For once, why not,” Gerry replied. It was time the boys coped with him. He would phone Robert and let him know he was going to be late that evening. He would do it as soon as Sue and Steve cleared off. He looked around. With all the work he wasn’t sure he would get to lunch himself.

He worked right through lunchtime and got the quotas under control. Having cleared the work from Sue’s desk, they would both be ready for a clean break. Probably he had been a bit hard on her. Naturally she would be excited. He had just been edgy all day. Now at least they’d have nothing unpleasant to answer for at the next departmental meeting and could relax a little more. At one-thirty, when he was just seeing his way clear to a break for coffee and the dizzy heights of the tea room, he was called into the office. The door was shut. It was obviously something major.

“Sit down Gerry,” Wilson said, as he circled around to his own seat. Once seated, he fingered at a piece of paper before him to give weight to what was to come. Then, coming to the point, he looked across and said, “Gerry, we’ve had a complaint from another member of staff.”

“Oh?” said Gerry and waited. Wilson seemed slightly unsure how to continue. It wasn’t as he had rehearsed it. He tried again authoritative-ly, “Mrs O’Day says you upset her this morning. She says you called her a Nazi.” He looked at Gerry for a reply.

“Not exactly,” said Gerry. “I just thought her attitude of shooting homosexuals on sight would find credence in the Third Reich. I told her so.” The older man looked flustered but went on, “Gerry, Mrs O’Day is a middle-aged woman. As such we should try not to upset her. We all know what she can be like, but just because you don’t have the same kind of regard for women it does not give you the right to go upsetting her.”

“Is that all?” Connie being upset! Rather that than the police knock-ing on his door. It was so amazingly trivial. He had to stop himself laughing. Connie being upset! That was the crime he had to answer for. What about him being upset anyway? What about shooting down homosexuals in the park, Mr Wilson, what about that? Are you for it, against it or fence-sitting?

“No, that’s not all. Gerry, you seem to have a problem here. The other men, you don’t get on with them. You don’t try to be one of the team. Now it’s for your own good I tell you this. Try adopting a more — a more masculine image.

“You’re not, well, you’re not what we would have called officer material in the forces. Not aggressive enough. I don’t know what it is exactly, but the other men resent you for it. It will hold you back if you don’t curtail it.” Christ, not aggressive enough now! If only they knew.

“Is there something wrong with my work?” he asked.

“Not exactly. It’s attitude Gerry. Attitude and accepta-bility. Think about it. OK? It’s for your own good I tell you.

“Now you have a think about it. Apologize to Mrs O’Day and we’ll forget all about it. I’ll tear up this complaint and we can call it closed. But Gerry, for your own good, tjy to be one of the boys.” They both sat in silence. The interview was over and he was expected to go back to work. He thanked his boss for the advice and left. Instead of going straight back to work, he stormed into the tea room. He didn’t owe this place anything. It was the first time the straight man’s creed had been put so solidly to him.

“Straighten up or you’re out,” he thought. He laughed aloud at the hidden pun. Neil was holding forth in the tea room, telling jokes. He had been inspired by the newspaper article to dig out all his old favourite poofter jokes for one more airing. His male audience guffawed in unison at all the old lines they’d heard before. Connie sat in the corner pretending it wasn’t nice for a woman to understand such jokes. As he made his coffee Gerry recited the jokes to himself in time to Neil’s delivery. He knew them so well, in fact he could probably tell them better himself if he wanted to. Neil did a lousy job of aping a fag. When they got to the punchline, Gerry joined in aloud:

“And all he was left holding was a pair of fucking ears.” The joke fell flat as surprised eyes turned to look at Gerry. He calmly poured the milk into his coffee, replaced it in the refrigerator neatly and sailed out the room saying, “Tell them about the two poofters who went straight- bashing, Neil.” Fuck the male world. Who wanted to be officer material in the forces anyway? If he had done, he would have joined the army. So much for lunch. Sue was back when he got to his desk with his coffee. Steve had agreed to wearing the dinner suit but the next battle was teaching him the bridal waltz. He had confessed that he couldn’t dance, another problem to beset the bride-to-be.

“And a guy called Robert phoned,” she said, “but he didn’t leave his number.” And that was all she knew of his private life. He was expected to share every twist and turn of her wedding plans, while his lover was to remain an unknown to her. They got through the afternoon’s work somehow. Wilson came through once and smiled weakly. Gerry just wanted to get away from the whole damned place. He felt tired and drained. He wished he hadn’t promised to go for a drink and tried to think of a way to wangle out of it. He didn’t want to offend Steve but he was hardly in the mood for a drink with the boys. Sitting there like a male spinster pretending not to understand the jokes and innuendoes. He had found in the past the most infuriating thing to do with sexist jokes was to pretend not to get them. The joker would in turn then have to explain the joke. This inevitably made it fall flat. If all else failed, he would reduce it with a statement like, “You mean she didn’t want to fuck with him” or “Oh, the guy was sterile was he?” The straight guys at work had given up on Gerry ages ago, assuming he had no sense of humour. In reality it was often aimed at them.

Steve made the unprecedented step of coming to get Gerry after work. He seemed scared Gerry would shoot through without the drink. He was right; it had been on the cards. Things were a bit awkward at first but they went across the the pub together and settled in the front bar. Steve looked pleased with himself but still had the same nervous air. He sat on his high seat looking at his beer and not knowing what to say. Gerry had a beer before him too. His was decorative; he hated beer.

“Well here’s to the two of you,” he said bravely. He still didn’t have the faintest idea why he was there but it had seemed important to Steve.

“Thanks,” came the reply. They sat in awkward silence. They hardly knew each other. It seemed doomed to be a failure.

“I never do this,” said Gerry. Why pretend he was unaware of his inadequacy?

“I’m not one of the boys, you know. I was told so in no uncertain terms today.”

“What?” Steve wasn’t following.

“Never mind.”

“No, what did you say?”

“Nothing. Where are the others?” Gerry asked. Steve looked back at his beer. “There aren’t any others. I only invited you.” He played with a water mark on the table. Searching for the words, he asked, “I want to tell you something, alright?”

“What?” Gerry waited. There was a long pause while Steve assembled the words. At last he articulated simply, “I don’t want to marry her.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to marry her. I thought you might understand. I just don’t want to.” Again they sat in silence and looked at the table. Gerry studied the boy.

“You’d better tell her,” he said softly.

“I can’t.” He thought Steve was going to cry.

“How can I tell her? Everyone’s expecting it now.” “The sooner you tell her the better.”

“Yeah,” he said and gulped at his beer.

“Why?” Gerry asked. Steve said nothing for a while, then looked up: “What do you reckon?” Their eyes met. The kid was really upset. Gerry was still unsure what he was trying to get at. He felt a coward. He reached for his drink, sipped it and tried to avoid pulling a face at the stale taste. Steve was still waiting for an answer. None came. He went on, “Reckon I must be a poofter.” And again it looked as if he was going to cry there in the front bar. Gerry said nothing. Then when Steve rubbed his hand across his face to wipe his eyes, Gerry said softly, “Only drunks cry in bars. Come on, let’s get out of here.” He hoped the fresh air would do them good. Outside he was unsure what to do next.

“Let’s walk. Then you can come back to my place for coffee,” he suggested in desperation. Steve looked bewildered. Gerry couldn’t help it — he laughed. The kid thought he had been propositioned.

“No,” Gerry said quickly, “there’s someone I’d like you to meet. Let’s walk up to get the car.” They were greeted as they walked through the door by the words: “What happened? I thought you were going out with the boys?”

“We decided to come here for coffee instead,” Gerry retorted.

“Who’s the we?” Robert asked eagerly, looking at the other arrival.

“Steve. He’s the prospective bridegroom, only he isn’t because the wedding’s off.” It was abrupt enough even for Robert. Steve was wincing.

“What happened?”

“Nothing. He has had a change of mind, that’s all.”

“Sounds like a change for the better.” Robert paused.

“Hi Steve, I’m Robert,” he added. Gerry was contorting his face into meaningful little signs. At first Robert refused to understand. Gerry persisted. Steve looked awkward. Robert knew perfectly well the uneasiness his presence was creating but hovered. Finally as if by inspiration he announced: “I’ll make the coffee then.” His smile swept the room and he sailed out. Steve was furious.

“What are you doing. I didn’t want you telling everyone. It was in confidence. “

“It’s only Robert.”

“It’s alright for you.”

“Meaning what?” The boy shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

“Look, we’re only trying to help,” Gerry continued. Steve looked confused. Gerry said coaxingly, “You’ll like Robert. Give it a chance. He has never met anyone from work before and he’s a bit nervous. In fact he’s scared stiff of you.” Robert drifted back tactfully to make amends for his last entrance. He certainly didn’t seem scared stiff to Steve.

“Oh Gerry, did you see in the paper about that boy in the park? Awful. Make you stop before flouncing off on your own.” He explained to Steve, “Gerry always gets into such a tantrum about something or other and off he goes, out into the night.” It sat awkwardly. Robert was satisfied with the effect it had created. Gerry in turn was perfectly sure it was only by accident that Robert had hit on him flouncing off and that it was not connected in Robert’s mind with the events in the park. He changed the subject.

“Steve just wanted some coffee, Robert, nothing more.”

“Only if it’s no trouble. I’ve got to be going soon.”

“It’s no trouble at all. Hold on.” And Robert dis-appeared again.

“You don’t have to go yet, you know.”

“I’d better. I feel funny with him here. It’s alright with you, but, I don’t know …’’he petered out.

“I wanted you to meet Robert just like Sue wanted me to meet you.” He realized the mistake after he had said it, so rushed on, “Robert’s fine. He was married himself before we were lovers.”

“Yeah.” Steve was all at sea. He hadn’t heard men talk of each other as lovers before. It took him by surprise.

“Yeah, he went through with it and that was a real mistake. He’ll tell you if you ask him.”

“What was she like?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know. I only met her once,” Gerry replied. “It was at the hospital. She was allowed to see him as next of kin, I wasn’t. Their divorce had already gone through.”

“Any kids?” asked Steve. Gerry shook his head. He wondered what had led him into this fairy godmother role with Steve. He fluctuated between enjoying and despising it. He felt he was expected to say to Steve, “Look, we’re happy.” It was like something in a Barbara Cartland novel. Steve sat uncomfortably on the sofa. He gazed at the wall opposite. A drawing of a boy making love to a girl, with a skeleton arising, faced him. He looked away embarrassed. It was like something you shouldn’t look at. Sue liked posters of still lifes, vegetables, that kind of thiitg. He hadn’t known anyone with real art sort of pictures before. Robert came in with the coffee. Steve saw the funny look he gave Gerry and the nod he received in reply. It was like some kind of code. He knew he was being classified and it made him uneasy. But the two poofs were right, he was one of them. That’s what it meant, breaking off with Sue. Robert prattled, “Do you suppose the papers are right claiming that boy was straight? I think it’s just his mother. Such a pity. The boy is dead and his mother’s main concern is that everyone knows he was straight. Poor little bastard.”