Danny nodded.
‘The thought crossed my mind.’
Harry asked, ‘Why would conventional be bad?’
Danny answered, ‘Because it was never on offer.’
Later that night Sophie and Danny huddled together at the back of the garden, seated on the girls’ climbing frame, smoking a joint as a nod to old times. After passing it, Sophie wrapped her arms around him.
‘Danny, don’t fall apart.’
Chapter ThirtyFalling Apart
Arriving back in London Danny pictured Luis waiting for him at home, seated in his reading chair with a Christmas tree by his side. But there was no reason to hope for a festive reconciliation. Luis had been away for too long to believe that returning out of the blue would be a straightforward heart-warming gesture even if he did return with a tree. Climbing the stairs Danny braced himself for the apartment to be empty and it was. In contrast to the familial commotion of Sophie’s house the air was frigid and still. He stood for a while in the hall, wondering if the home he and Luis had laboured over for so many years could ever be their home again.
Danny unpacked his bag, finding the card that Sophie’s girls had drawn for him, a depiction of the silver stag fromDunham Massey. He put it on the kitchen table beside a pile of unopened Christmas cards, unable to face their warm wishes for next year’s wedding. It was late and he ought to go to bed, but his mind was racing and he was afraid of insomnia. Negative thoughts lurked in those sleepless hours and he didn’t want Luis returning to find him broken and bitter. Saying you couldn’t live without someone was romantic: not being able to live without them was unattractive.
Before resorting to the trickery of sleeping pills Danny decided to go for a run. As usual he set off over the river, skirted the perimeter of a locked Regent’s Park before arriving at Hampstead Heath. With a determination to exhaust himself, he sprinted up the hill, reaching its highest point, Jack Straw’s Castle, where he stopped, catching his breath. Formerly a historic coaching inn, hoardings indicated that it was soon to be developed into luxury apartments. Images of families and hybrid cars left out the fact this was the most famous gay cruising spot in the city – a place of delight and disgrace, a few of the scandals well known, many covered up. Not having walked these dirt trails for over twenty years Danny wasn’t sure why he was walking them now, not from pent-up sexual desire – he had never felt less attractive. It was possible that he was pre-emptively blowing up the marriage before Luis could, to preserve some illusion of control. Or perhaps, like a man at the end of his tenancy, he was window-shopping his future.
Passing the detritus of casual sex, wet wipes and teeth-torn sachets of lube, he saw the twin shadows of two men cast by the light of a hard bright moon. Nearby a campfire was burning, reminiscent of a music festival. This underworld had grown bolder during his time away, less fearful of physical assaults or arrests from the police, a fiefdom left to its own devices. Logs had been arranged around the embers and a band of misfit men were perched on the stumps.
Approaching the fire Danny saw that one of the three men was Chris, his retired civil servant mentor from the Men’s Ponds. They had never met here before. When he saw Danny he was surprised, beckoning for him to sit beside him, which he did, glancing at the other guys. One wore wire-framed spectacles, the spherical lenses reflecting the flames, a gold wedding band clearly visible. The second man was colossal in stature with a shaved head, a ginger beard, a silver septum ring and saucer-wide eyes, which explained why he wasn’t cold even in torn black jeans and a tissue-thin t-shirt, a man more mythic than real, with steroid-pumped arms and a triangular back, like a lumberjack from a fairytale. No one introduced themselves yet these men already knew each other, in a way, watching the embers splutter into the night sky.
Breaking the silence Chris whispered, ‘I fare better in these woods than online. Once they see my age guys on theapps want my money or my humiliation. A few want both. Sad but true: the Heath is safer than my own home.’
Guessing correctly Danny asked, ‘Did something happen?’
Chris nodded.
‘I was the worst kind of fool, flattered by beauty and youth. I should’ve known. He was too handsome, too eager. Once we were in the bedroom, he tied me up, pressed a knife against my neck, gagged me, punched me and ransacked my house. I was bound on the bed, listening to him smash vases in search of ten-pound notes. Here’s the crazy part. I wasn’t afraid of dying. I was afraid of being found like that, tied up like a carcass. In the end, I was saved by my cleaner. She set me free and quit. Who can blame her?’
Nervous at the question, Danny asked, ‘Did you call the police?’
Chris looked embarrassed.
‘No. Old habits, you know? I should have. That’s what shames me the most because he will have done it to someone else. He had a taste for it, I could tell. After that encounter I deleted the apps, changed the locks and have never invited another man back to my house.’
Chris shook his head at the memory.
‘Here, I feel safe. What could happen? If you call for help ten guys will come out of the bushes, outraged at this violation of our sacred space. We look after each other.During the summer I’m the chatty old fag by the water. In the winter I’m the chatty old fag by the fire. Tending to the fire gives me a certain cachet in a caveman sort of way. And I have a weakness for cavemen.’
Danny smiled. ‘Is that so?’
Chris expanded.
‘Oh yes. Neanderthals didn’t go extinct because they didn’t know how to fuck. They were probably the best lovers this earth has ever known. Killing they were less good at which is why we ended up with a planet full of brilliant killers and lousy fuckers. What a shame that is.’
Chris pivoted the conversation.
‘Do you know how many men come here not for sex but because they’re alone? They sit on these logs with dull eyes and sunken shoulders. I force a conversation. I talk about a book, the weather, whatever comes into my head until their eyes perk up.’
Danny had always seen Chris this way – a guiding star.
‘I’m sure you’ve saved a lot of people in your time.’
Chris accepted the compliment and Danny wondered if this assistance was penance for refusing to allow his lover to live with him, a balm for a lifetime of guilt.
‘I’m not proud of much in my life but I am proud of that.’
