“How do you feel?”
I lean my forehead down on his shoulder, feeling myself rest against him and how he holds me up. I have to do the same for him, I remind myself. I can’t always take. I have to give him this support too.
“I feel free,” I say slowly. “And scared out of my wits because my career is probably finished. While I was in the car coming back, Hal Finchley rang and said he couldn’t use me in the film. Said I wasn’t the right fit.”
“Bastard,” he says, his Welsh accent sounding loudly in his agitation. “Wanker. He’s a complete cockwomble. Wait, are you smiling? Have you goneloony?”
“I’m smiling because I never wanted to play that role anyway. It was so fuckingboring. I’m also smiling because Asa Jacobs rang me ten minutes ago and offered me a job I’ve had my eye on for years. It’s a baddie.”
“Well, you’ll be good at that.”
“I’m not sure what that means,” I say slowly.
“No,” he says cheerfully. “That’s good, then.”
I shake my head and he smiles, looking at me curiously. “You could have lied and gone on with pretending. I’d have stayed. You know that, don’t you?”
“Not like that,” I say quickly. “It was because of you, Eli. You’re too important to me. I did consider it,” I add hastily, trying to get the honesty out, to tell him my sins. “I have to tell you that. I could have stayed in the closet. I had my career to think of and all the money.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I discovered something I want more than money and fame.” He looks at me, and I smile and pull him close. “I want to hold your hand walking down the street. I want to kiss you when I feel like it. I want us to live together and have a future, and I can do none of that if I’m not honest with myself and society and, most importantly, with you. You’re everything to me. You’re kind and funny and clever and wise and just being with you makes me want to be a better person. Makes me feel like Iama better person because you love me.”
“I do,” he says clearly. “I love you very much, and I’m so very fucking proud of you. Whatever happens, that will never change.”
“Hope not. Because I’m probably going to be walking in the ruins of my career for a long time, and you’ll more than likely be supporting me.”
“That’s fine,” he says loftily. “I’ll buy you all the Pot Noodles you can ask for, pretty baby.”
I flutter my eyelashes. “I’ve always fancied being a kept man. Pot Noodles sound a lot better than diamonds and pearls.”
“You can do that, then,” he says airily. “I’ll dress you in satin and feathers and you can watchThis Morningwhenever you like.”
I snort. “My hero.”
He smiles at me, the laughter fading to something soft and sweet. “How about we just support each other with the knowledge that none of that fucking matters at all? Only this thing here – this love between us – matters, and it’s the only thing that ever will.”
We kiss as the late evening sun dances in my hair, and I feel alive right down to my fingertips for the first time in years. Alive but contrarily…
“I feel peaceful, Eli,” I say wonderingly as we pull back for breath. “I’ve never felt that before. It’s nice.”
“That’s because you’re settling into yourself,” he says as wisely as ever. “There’s peace in the knowledge that you like yourself enough to show yourself to the world. It’s a form of coming home.”
“No,you’remy form of coming home, and you always will be.”
I hug him close, inhaling the scent of coconut and laundry detergent. All my life I’ve had glib words on my tongue for every situation. I’ve talked myself out of and into more trouble than I could ever count. But with him, my glibness falters under the beauty and simplicity of his own words spoken in those low Celt tones. Maybe I’ve lost the facility now because I don’t need them anymore. Because with him I’m finally myself, and I’m easy and content in that knowledge.
Epilogue
Thank God for pneumonia and dissolute living
SEVEN YEARS LATER
Gideon
I come awake when the shower in the en suite goes on. Ten minutes later he slides carefully into bed beside me, bringing the scent of freshly washed skin and coconut.
“I’m awake,” I say sleepily.
