Chapter 1-1
473 Words
Chapter 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…
“f**k!” 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.”
- Writer
