Jared grinned. “That’s useful.”
“Oh?”
“Because I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of saying it.” He crawled onto Kyrone, straddling him. He cupped Kyrone’s face in his hands and stared into his eyes intently. “I love you, Ky. More than I thought possible.”
25Jared
Working fewer hours at Ink Envy helped. After a week of getting to go home at lunchtime, Jared was feeling more able to take on the world again. ‘Home’ was still a room in the shared house, but only for a short while longer; in theory.
The train journey to his parents’ house was long—almost five hours—but the time passed by surprisingly fast with Kyrone to keep him company. They talked a lot, but they also read. For some reason, he had been compelled to pick up the copy ofJonathan Livingston Seagullthat Kyrone had given him. He’d tried reading it himself, but the motion of the train and the act of staring at the words resulted in the formation of a headache right behind his eyes. Kyrone read the story to him, his strong northern accent practically purring over the words. They cuddled up together as Kyrone read, and Jared allowed his eyes to close and his mind to conjure up images to go with the story. It was a nice story, but he knew he hadn’t been able to grasp hold of the nuances that had been suggested to him by both Kyrone and Jag. Maybe if Kyrone read it to him a few more times, he would fully understand why he had a seagull tattooed over his shoulder.
They had to get the train to Kings Cross station before using the London Underground to get to Waterloo, where they were able to catch a final train to Farnham station. It was a tiny train station, with only two platforms. It was the kind of train station you’d expect to see on a picture postcard, with a building made of old, discoloured bricks, and brightly painted red doors. They took a taxi to Jared’s parents’ house. The driver went via the pretty high street, which had lots of pretty brick buildings from the medieval period.
“Lovely,” Kyrone breathed as they headed out into leafy suburbs.
Jared felt a strange sense of embarrassment when the taxi dropped them off outside a nice brick detached house in an obviously affluent neighbourhood. The long street was picture-perfect, with neatly trimmed hedges, gravel driveways, and not a bin in sight. It seemed unfair that he had grown up in such comfort when Kyrone’s family had struggled.
“This looks nice,” Kyrone said, threading his fingers through Jared’s and squeezing his hand.
“Yes,” Jared agreed. He could appreciate how beautiful a house it was, even though it didn’t feel like home.
They approached the small porch area, which had a terracotta tiled floor and was boxed in by white woodwork. They didn’t have a chance to ring the bell because the door opened first. Jared took a half step back as they were greeted by his parents. They were smiling, but it felt like a forced cheerfulness. He wasn’t sure how to face them, knowing they’d kept fairly major things from him, so he put on an equally fake smile.
“Jared,” his mother said, hurrying to draw him into her arms and kiss both his cheeks.
His father was more reserved, saying ‘hullo’ and shaking their hands.
“Your room is ready for you, Jared,” his mother said as they all moved inside. She smiled at Kyrone. “I’ve made the guest room up for you.”
“Uh—” Jared began, but Kyrone stepped in with a beaming smile.
“That’s very kind of you, Mrs Swift,” he said in a smooth tone.
Jared glanced at him. He wasn’t sure hewantedto sleep in separate rooms.
They were led straight into the sitting room, with its cream walls and bright white coving and ceilings. One wall was dominated by a traditional fireplace, with a massive rustic mirror hanging over it. The walls were decorated with a mixture of paintings and family photos, many of which included him at various ages. It was weird to look at them, recognising himself but having no memory of them ever being taken. White French doors with glass panels led to the large, open-plan kitchen diner, which was partly built in an extension to the side of the house.
“You have a beautiful home, Mr and Mrs Swift,” Kyrone said as he and Jared sat down on one of the large leather sofas.
Jared hoped his parents would invite Kyrone to call them by their first names, just as Evte had done, but they didn’t. They smiled an acknowledgement and sat down on the second sofa, which was at a right angle to the first. It all felt too formal, like they were about to be interviewed by his parents. But then, he was a stranger in his own home.
“How have you been?” his mother asked him.
It was the question he’d been dreading. The temptation to lie rose within him, but it wouldn’t do him any good to pretend everything was okay. So he told them the truth, about how trying to work full time had increased the number of headaches and migraines he’d had, even though he loved the job. That he’d had to admit defeat and reduce his hours. Their faces were etched with concern as he spoke, but they stayed quiet until he’d finished filling them in on how his physical rehabilitation was going and had given them a brief update on each of his hospital appointments. They both became tight-lipped when he mentioned he’d transferred his care to the hospital in Leeds.
“You should come home,” his mother said the moment it was clear he’d finished.
Jared grasped Kyrone’s hand. “There’s no need.”
His mother looked at his father, clearly exasperated. “Of course there is, Jared. You’re not well. You should be here, where we can take care of you.”
“I don’t need—” Jared shook his head. “Kyrone has asked me to move in with him.” He glanced into his boyfriend’s eyes. “I said yes.”
His mother clicked her tongue and then smiled at Kyrone. “You seem like a very nice young man,” she told him. “But I don’t think you understand what you’d be taking on.”
Jared clenched his teeth but stayed silent.
“Jared needs to be home, with his family,” his mother concluded.
