Fireside Romance Book 3: Heating Up

Chapter 1-2

The King George was an old-fashioned looking place, not exactly spit and sawdust, but at least it hadn’t been turned into one of those soulless chain pubs, nor thankfully one of those ghastly trendy wine bars. No, the George, as it was affectionately called, was a cosy, warm, and welcoming place.

“What’s your poison, gentlemen?” the landlord asked.

Tom got our drink orders from us.

“Say, Gary,” Tom asked, “is Tim playing tonight?”

“He should be in around half eight as usual.”

Tom turned to me and Mark and told us Tim was the pianist he’d talked of earlier. “He just plays a few numbers, and the regulars join in if they know the words.”

“And also if they don’t,” Gary added.

“Can we have some menus, please, Gary?” Cliff asked.

“Sure.” Gary ducked under the bar and came up holding the promised menus. “There’s a few specials on the blackboard, too.”

We got our drinks and settled down at a table in one of the corners.

“It’s nice and quiet in here,” Mark said, having a good look round.

“It’ll liven up later,” Tom said, taking a pull on his pint of Diet Coke.

“Been coming here long?” I asked.

“About five years, isn’t it, love?” Tom leaned over to his right and kissed Cliff’s cheek.

I was surprised to see Tom display such affection in public, but Cliff didn’t seem to mind.

“Don’t look so shocked, Simon,” Tom said. “It’s about eighty percent gay in here. They don’t mind kissing and cuddling. Though I think they’d draw the line at all-out s*x on top of the bar.”

Mark laughed, Cliff smiled, and I felt shocked.

“Honestly,” Cliff said to me. “Take Mark’s hand.”

We reached for each other, neither sure it was a good idea. However, no one started shouting.

Tom smiled over at us. “Liberating, isn’t it?”

“I wish we could do this in the pub at home.” Mark sighed.

“I don’t think Ron would mind. I’ve always had my suspicions about him,” I said.

“So you’ve been making eyes at the landlord of the Mucky Duck?” Mark raised an eyebrow at me.

“You have to admit, he’s a bit tasty.”

Mark laughed.

“But he doesn’t hold a candle to you.” I squeezed his hand.

In a rare moment of bravery I leant over and kissed Mark full on the lips. He was shocked, and so was I, come to think of it.

“Well done,” Cliff told us.

I felt my cheeks grow warm and, looking over at Mark, saw that he, too, was blushing.

We decided what we wanted to eat and I put in our order when I went up to the bar for the next round of drinks.

On my return I heard Cliff say, “It’s so sad, though. Doug was such a great guy.”

“Have I missed something?” I asked.

“We were just talking about Tim the pianist. He’s such a sweetie,” Cliff said. “Doug, his lover for over twenty years, was one of the first people we knew who died of an AIDS-related illness. By some miracle Tim didn’t get it, but he took Doug’s death very badly. Doug used to sing while Tim played. We only saw them a few times before Doug grew too ill to sing anymore.”

The conversation among the four of us carried on flowing. It was as if we’d known each other all our lives. We just got on so well together.

“So, Simon,” Cliff said, “have you gotten used to wearing a wedding ring yet?”

I looked down at the gold band on the ring finger of my left hand. “It’s wonderful. I often find myself rubbing it between the fingers of my right hand. It’s like I’ve always got a piece of Mark with me.” I leant over and kissed him again. I could get used to this, I thought.

“It was a bit weird at first for me. I’d never worn any type of ring before,” Mark said.

“Did you two ever think about buying rings for each other?” I asked.

“Not really,” Tom said. “But seeing you two with them makes me think that it wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”

“I hadn’t really thought about it much myself either,” Cliff admitted. “But I might be talked into it.” He leaned over and gave Tom another kiss.

Our food arrived. “You two old romantics at it again?” the server said.

“Yeah, Tina, got to keep my man well stocked with loving,” Tom told her.

“Haven’t seen you two here before,” she said, smiling at Mark and me.

“We’re visiting Tom and Cliff for the weekend,” Mark said, still holding my hand.

“Aw, another happy couple.”

“Absolutely,” Mark said, lifting my hand and kissing my wedding ring.

This caused me to blush. However, it didn’t stop me from pulling Mark toward me and kissing him on the lips.

“Go for it, you two.” The comment came from another male couple that had just approached our table.

This, of course, did nothing to diminish the heat on my cheeks.

“Keith, you old sod. Thought we’d see you two in here tonight,” Tom said to the slightly more thick-set of the pair.

“We decided to come and check out any new cute guys who might show up,” Keith said, looking over at Mark and licking his lips. “And you are certainly cute. Where have you been all my life, babycakes?”

My hackles began to rise. Mark spotted this and laid a hand on my shoulder.

“These are our very good friends, Simon and Mark,” Tom said. “And they’re off limits. So you two can put your claws away right now,” he said firmly.

Al and Keith took the table next to us.

We began to tuck into our food. It was good and plentiful.

“Haven’t seen you two in here for a couple of weeks,” Al said, speaking for the first time.

“Cliff’s been busy, what with the start of school and everything,” Tom said.

“Ah, right. You two always were homebodies.”

“And proud of it,” Cliff said.

“So who are your friends?” Al asked.

I wiped my mouth on the paper napkin. “I’m Simon, and this is my one and only, Mark.”

“We met Simon and Mark in Menorca last August,” Tom told them, no doubt anticipating their next question.

“I remember you saying you wanted a quiet holiday, that figures,” Keith said.

“Yes, and we enjoyed it. Thanks in no small part to Simon and Mark here, and their young friend Sam,” Cliff added.

“Who’s Sam?” Keith asked, no doubt sensing a bit of gossip.

“A neighbour,” I said, not adding any further information.

“Right. So long as you all had a good time,” Keith said.

“We did,” Mark told them.

We continued our meal while Al and Keith asked the occasional question.

Some time later, a chubby man who was probably in his mid forties, with thick-rimmed spectacles and a thinning mop of black hair, walked towards our table. He was smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hello strangers,” the man said as he pulled up a chair to our table.

“Hi, Tim,” Cliff said as he put an arm around the man’s shoulders and gave him a hug. “How have you been keeping?”

“Oh, you know,” he said quietly.

“With the new school year and everything, I haven’t felt much like coming out of a Friday evening,” Cliff said. Looking at us, then back at Tim, Cliff continued, “these are a couple of guys we met on holiday this summer. Tim, please meet Simon and Mark.”

We all shook hands.

“Tim is our pianist for tonight,” Tom told us. “I hope you’ll give us a few good numbers.”

“I’ll do my best. I can’t deviate much from the usual, though. This crowd is pretty set in its ways.” He gave a weak smile. “Well, I’d better go and see if the old Joanna is still in tune. See you later.”

Tim walked off towards the back of the pub and stepped up to a baby grand on a slightly raised platform. He began to play softly, the crowd gradually growing quiet.

Tim was a good pianist. He played many songs I’d listened to for years, and they brought back happy memories of times spent at Gran’s house listening to her cast recordings of movie musicals and the like. Mark and I loved many of the old show tunes, which I realised made us stereotypically gay.

Show tunes seemed to form the majority of Tim’s repertoire.

When Tim took a break, Mark got up and asked us if we wanted another drink. “Should I get one for Tim?” Mark asked.

“That’s kind of you; he’ll have a tomato juice, but no Worcester sauce.”

After exchanging words with a few of the regulars, Tim came over to our table.

“Mark’s gone up to get you a tomato juice,” I told him.

“Thank you.”

“How long have you played the piano?” I asked.

“Since high school. I hated games and PE. I was always the last one to be picked when teams were chosen. ‘Oh, sir, we had him on our team last time.’” Tim gave a pained grimace. “So eventually the games teacher let me off. It so happened that the head of music at the school had a free period during my games lesson, and I’d always had a hankering to play the piano, but he didn’t have the time during my normal music lesson.

“To cut a long story short, Mr Jones taught me to play while the rest of my class were knee deep in mud on the playing fields.”

“Do you play as a full-time job?”

“Oh, no, it’s always been a sideline. I’m a solicitor’s clerk during the day.”

“Mark has a great voice,” Cliff chipped in. “He hasn’t had a great deal of training, but he sang for us when we were on holiday, and he brought the house down. Would you let him sing a couple of numbers with you?”

Tim dropped his gaze and grew quiet. “I haven’t accompanied anyone since my Dougie was taken, I don’t know if I could…”

“I know it’s painful, but it might help you move on,” Cliff said gently while holding Tim’s hand.

Tim let out a breath, lifted his head, squared his shoulders, and said, “if Mark’s agreeable…we could try a couple of numbers. What register is he?”

“Baritone,” I said.

Tim swallowed. “Same as my Dougie.”

“Give it a try, mate. If it doesn’t work out, I’m sure everyone’ll understand,” Tom told Tim.

I wasn’t sure if Mark would want to sing in public. He, like me, didn’t like drawing too much attention to himself. Mark still hadn’t come back from the bar. I got up and told the others I’d give him a hand. I thought we’d stand a better chance of hearing Mark sing if I had a quiet word with him first.

“Hi, love,” Mark said as we queued.

I had a moment of panic hearing Mark say that in public, then I realised where we were, and relaxed again. I’d grown so used to having to hide my relationship with Mark from general view that it came as second nature to me now.

Smiling, I said, “I thought I’d come and give you a hand with the drinks.”

“Thanks.”

“Also,” my smile faltered, “would you think about getting up and singing a couple of numbers with Tim?” I held up a hand to forestall Mark’s objection. “He, Tim I mean, said he hasn’t accompanied anyone since Doug, and we, that’s me, Cliff and Tom, think it might help him, Tim, I mean, get back into things.” I shut my mouth, realising I was babbling. But it seemed I was on a roll and couldn’t help myself. “And I want everyone here to know what a beautiful voice my man has.”

Mark smiled but shook his head. “I haven’t sung in public much, and I’m not sure I know all the words to many songs.”

“Please, think about it. Have a word with Tim and…please?” I brought out my best puppy eyes.

Mark smiled again, sighed, and said, “all right, I’ll think about it.”

I gave him one of my winning smiles. I knew he’d do it. Mark had reached the front of the queue by this point, so he gave his drink order, and I helped carry the glasses back to the table.

“Erm, Mark,” Tim began. “The others here say you sing a bit. They’ve been twisting my arm to accompany you.”

“Yeah…Simon said. But I don’t know if I can remember all the words to many of the songs you play.”

“Don’t worry about that. Can you read music?”

“Well, a bit, it’s a while since I tried.”

“You should be able to read the words without any difficulty anyway. I’ve got the sheet music for most of the popular shows in the piano stool. I don’t use them much myself as I could probably play most of them in my sleep. So you could read the words straight from the page.

“Look, I’m sorry, I’d hate to put any pressure on you. I’m a bit nervous about it myself if the truth be known.”

“You’ll be fine…both of you,” Tom encouraged.

“Maybe,” Tim and Mark said at the same time, causing them both to smile.

“I’ll come up and see what I can find, then,” Mark conceded.

I gave my man a winning smile. “You’ll knock ’em dead. But please don’t sing ‘Younger Than Springtime’.”

Mark had sung the ballad from South Pacific to me back in Menorca just before he’d taken me onto the beach and asked me to marry him. The words, the romantic setting, and the wedding ring had all combined to leave me an emotional wreck, and I wasn’t eager to disgrace myself in public like that again.

Mark smiled and shook his head. “I promise.”

Tim pointed out that, as he and Mark hadn’t worked together before, things might not be as polished as he would have liked. We sent them up to the piano to look through a few numbers.

A short while later Tim started playing and Mark’s beautiful voice joined in. I couldn’t hide the pride I felt at seeing Mark up there entertaining the regulars.

At the end of the first number, “Summertime from Porgy and Bess,” Tim and Mark got a polite round of applause. I could tell Mark was nervous, so I gave him a warm smile and a double thumbs up.

They performed a couple more songs, then they did “Can’t Help Lovin’ Dat Man” from Show Boat.

Once they’d completed their set, the pub broke out into enthusiastic clapping. I was one of the first to get up on stage to offer my congratulations.

“Dougie would have been so proud of you,” a rapidly blinking Tim told Mark, who nodded his thanks.

“You were fantastic!” I told Mark.

“Thanks. I wobbled a bit at the beginning, but I got more confident as we went on.”

“I’m really proud of you.”

Gary came over to congratulate Mark. “It’s ages since Tim had a musical partner. It makes a big difference.”

“I think it was too soon for him.”

We looked over at Tim, who was being swallowed up in one of Tom’s bear hugs.

“Doug was a fantastic bloke, one of the few people I was proud to call a friend, but Tim has to move on,” Gary said.

Cliff led Tim back to us. The man seemed to be a lot more composed, even managing a small smile.

“Mark, thank you.” Tim took Mark’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

“I enjoyed myself,” Mark replied.

“You were excellent. Like I said, my Dougie would have been proud.” The mention of his late partner’s name caused Tim’s face to fall. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Mark consoled. “I’ve only known Simon here for just over a year, but if I lost him, I’d…” Mark shuddered.

The pub began to empty. Gary came back with Tim’s fee, then tried to hand some money to Mark.

“I don’t want anything. I only did it this once to help Tim.”

“No, Gary’s right,” Tim said. “You made a difference this evening.”

Turning to the landlord, Mark said, “Would you put whatever you were going to give me in the AIDS research box on the bar?”

“Bless you,” Tim said.