1
“I’ve got a spare room,”
Trevor said, shimmying up to the lunch table.
Paul panicked. “Oh, no,
it’s fine. I’m sure I—”
The look of sadness on
Trevor’s face as he turned away and made a quick exit from the
staff canteen did little to quell Paul’s alarm at being invited to
stay at the home of the Town Hall queer. He couldn’t. What would
his mates at the cricket club say? Paul shook his head to try and
clear it. His gaze fell upon the disapproving face of Sandy, the
filing clerk.
“Did you have to say it
like that? Be quite so obvious?”
“But he’s—I’m…”
Sandy’s expression
darkened. “What’s that supposed to mean? Have you forgotten I’m a
lesbian? You don’t seem to have any problem around me.”
“But that’s different. Eh,
you’re a woman and—”
“Men! And they say we’re
the emotional and irrational sex.” Shaking her head, Sandy asked,
“How well do you actually know Trevor? Have you ever stopped and
had a conversation with him, found out what he’s really
like?”
“Uh, no.” Paul
realised he hadn’t.Trevor’s somewhat unorthodox appearance,
his long curly brown hair, his brightly coloured artist’s smocks,
the bangles on his limp wrists had all put Paul off from
approaching the guy.
Sighing, she said,“No, didn’t think you had.”
Pushing his half-eaten
meal away, Paul sighed in resignation. He knew Sandy was right. His
reactions to Trevor were wrong, but, he couldn’t help being
uncomfortable around men who minced or flamed or…
“Fuck!” He slammed his
fist on the table, causing the cutlery to rattle and the water in
his glass to slosh over the side. He wasn’t sure what he was madder
at, the situation with Trevor, and how he’d have to go eat humble
pie, or the mess his house was in.
He’d come home from a
weekend with the lads from the cricket team. Someone had suggested
they hire a minibus and go down to Dover, catch the ferry and load
up on cheap booze from the hypermarkets in Calais. However, the
light rain that had been falling when he’d set out had turned into
a severe downpour. As the river was already close to overflowing
its banks, the extra rain resulted in a foot of water flooding the
ground floor of Paul’s house.
Sandy put a reassuring
hand on top of his. “Has the water done a lot of
damage?”
Paul nodded. “Last time it
took over three months before the place was habitable.”
“Oh dear.”
“I’m not looking forward
to all the re-decorating, sorting out new carpets, furniture
and…”
“You should have sold the
place after last time.”
Paul smiled ruefully. “I
was told that it was a fluke, a once in a lifetime
thing.”
“Oh.”
“And if that wasn’t bad
enough, the bastards at my insurance company told me this morning I
was under-insured.”
“Oh, Paul.”
“I’ll be okay. Though
it’ll probably eat into my savings to get the place all fixed
up.”
“Sorry. I wish I had a
spare room to offer you, but as you know my place is
tiny.”
“I know, and thanks.
Something will turn up. I’ll ring round my mates this afternoon.
One of them’s bound to be able to put me up.”
** * *
Replacing the phone in its
cradle, Paul dropped his head into his hands.No one seemed to have room. Thommo said he could have his
couch, but Paul was all too aware of the lumps and broken springs.
He’d sat on the uncomfortable piece of furniture often enough when
Thommo invited the guys round for beer and televised
sport.
Paul was no snob. The last
thing he could call himself would be house-proud, but Thommo’s
place was a tip. His last girlfriend had walked out on him six
months earlier, no doubt because she was fed up with cleaning up
after him.
Looking at his watch, Paul
realised it was almost knocking-off time, and he’d got precious
little work done. Putting a couple of executive summaries in his
briefcase, he straightened up his desk and prepared to
leave.
Standing in the corridor
at the exit to the part of the town hall which the public weren’t
given access to, Paul waited his turn to sign out. He heard
Trevor’s annoyingly girlish laughter behind him as he shared a joke
with the girls from the typing pool.
After reaching the head of
the queue, Paul signed his name and his time of departure then
stood to one side. He might as well get his apology to Trevor over
with. Trying to remain calm, he watched as several staff members
signed out, then it was Trevor’s turn. Did he have to wiggle his
hips so childishly as he bent to sign his name? One of the girls
reached out and pinched Trevor’s bum cheek, causing him to squeal
in mock indignation.