Luis remarked, ‘Growing up I was desperate for my mother to leave him. Every time they argued, I dreamed of it. I hated their marriage and couldn’t understand any part of it. I’m not sad they’re divorced, I’m sad they didn’t divorce when I was young enough to enjoy it.’
Realizing he didn’t know enough to comment further, Danny asked, ‘When are you coming back?’
Luis was silent for so long Danny worried the call had dropped. He could hear background noises. The sound of glasses, chatter and chairs being moved. A bar, he imagined, or a home full of people. He couldn’t decide which was worse.
Luis answered, ‘When I know what to say to you.’
Chapter Thirty-TwoAnother Year Is Over
The mental health nurse Danny had befriended during rehearsals for the Olympic opening ceremony invited both him and Luis to a New Year’s Eve party at his apartment. As if anticipating that their response would be to politely decline, Matt described the hook of this house party as access to the building’s roof where they could sit on the chimney stacks and watch the midnight fireworks. Having been invited to the wedding, he had sent a big bouquet of flowers and a handwritten card in which he explained that it would be his first gay wedding, saying it would be an honour to attend. Danny admitted, ‘Luis and I are taking some time apart right now.’
There was a particularly sharp pain in sharing the news with a gay friend, as if Danny had let the side down after creating such a commotion around his marriage, acceptingcongratulations like he’d struck a blow against bigotry. Danny didn’t mind the humiliation – he’d crawled through a few gutters in his time – it was the disappointment he couldn’t bear. As a group his friends were so accustomed to hearing about break-ups, addictions and the toughest of times that he didn’t want to offer another sad story until it was the only one left to tell. Matt told him how sorry he was.
‘But you can’t stay at home alone on New Year’s Eve.’
Waking up on the morning of New Year’s Eve Danny contemplated the prospect of the year ahead, previously filled with appointments at prospective tailors and meetings with the caterers. After a breakfast of cornflakes which he ate so slowly they turned to mush by the final spoonful, he was eager to leave the apartment. His plan was to spend the entire day in town before heading to Matt’s New Year’s Eve party. Wondering what to wear he rummaged through his clothes, opting for indigo jeans, pleased that he could still fit into a thirty-inch waist. With dread, he speculated whether he would soon need to create online dating profiles – something he’d never done, filling them with statistics and specifics. He and Luis had never passed through the digital gatekeepers and Danny doubted there was an algorithm that would have matched them. He paired jeans with one of Luis’s tops, an azure cashmere sweater. He couldn’t decide if he was wearing it because he wanted Luis with him in someway or if it was an expression of sublimated anger. The soft fabric carried a trace of Luis’s earthy perfume, sandalwood oils hand-mixed in the spice markets of Marrakech, nothing like the cheap-and-cheerful scent that Danny preferred, reminiscent of a salty coastal breeze.
At a café near Charing Cross station Danny bought a toasted poppy-seed bagel which he ate plain on the cold stone steps of Trafalgar Square, looking down towards Parliament. Keeping him company pigeons picked at the crumbs he left behind. On a whim he went into the Japanese hairdresser’s in Soho, an establishment that had caught his eye when he had been buying Luis’s engagement ring. His stylist was a young woman called Akemi. She studied his mass of overgrown wavy hair, auburn and grey, unkempt and uncut since Luis left. Danny sheepishly observed, ‘It’s a mess.’
She didn’t disagree, asking what he wanted his hair to look like. Smart or Sexy. Naughty or Neat. Danny replied, ‘Not broken.’
Akemi barely missed a beat, pointing at his hair.
‘This is broken. You want not broken.’
During Danny’s haircut they spoke about the snowfall in Hokkaido, the northern region of Japan where Akemi’s parents lived. She expressed amazement that he had never been skiing. Never married, never been skiing, what other deficiencies were there? Danny had never owned a car and never kissed a woman. Gazing at his reflection he thoughthe looked like lousy material for a party. Cheering him up, Akemi’s haircut was excellent, an artful mix of messy and styled. Somehow he did look less broken. He promised to go skiing in Hokkaido.
Strolling down Regent Street Danny studied the Christmas lights he had missed this year. With the shops closing early he decided to treat himself to a pistachio-nut ice-cream sundae served at an Italian gelateria near Green Park. The two scoops were presented in a crystal bowl with a slender silver spoon and covered in sprinkles. Realizing he was the only person eating alone Danny took out his phone and read an article about the most expensive ice-cream sundae of all time, created in New York City, draped in gold leaf, flavoured with the rarest Madagascan vanilla pods. During the past month Danny had discovered that random facts and radio shows made good companions. After settling the bill he made his way past Buckingham Palace, wishing a Happy New Year to the Queen, managing to cross Lambeth Bridge before the centre of town was barricaded by the police. Arriving at Matt’s apartment early Danny offered to help set up. Matt hugged him and told him his haircut was hot. Danny asked if he was trying to look too young. Sceptical, Matt looked him up and down.
‘In cashmere?’
The pair carried back eighty-eight cans of Swedish pearcider from a nearby off-licence. With all the alcohol in the fridge Matt took Danny aside and opened his palm revealing a baggie containing small pink pills shaped like strawberries, explaining that they were Ecstasy pills, very mild, loving, and that he didn’t want Danny moody in the corner. Danny hadn’t touched drugs in years. Matt wondered at this.
‘But Luis is Spanish. The parties over there are wild.’
Danny pointed out that Luis was from the south of Spain.
‘He grew up religious, attending hour-long services on Sunday mornings, running errands, fetching fresh bread from the bakery at five in the morning. He’s never done a drug in his life.’
Matt wasn’t sure that these facts followed each other.
‘We all started off as choirboys. What happened when he came to London?’
Danny thought about the shape of Luis’s life.
‘Work was Luis’s obsession. He never went down any dark holes. Maybe he’s doing that now? The breakdowns we all went through in our twenties. Could be, right?’
Matt closed his palm.
‘I hope not. Anyway, I don’t want you doing anything you’re not comfortable with.’
Matt was about to put away the pills when Danny reached out and took the bag. He had grown tired with his mind. Peering inside he pinched a pink strawberry pill between his fingers and without another word put it on the tip of histongue. He opened a can of cider and washed it down. Matt widened his eyes and checked his watch.
Aside from a gradual cider drunkenness, Danny felt nothing for the first ninety minutes. Perhaps his body was too old for drugs, the walls of his cells had stiffened and toughened like those cheap cuts of meat that chefs turned into stew. The drugs simply bounced off his rusted receptors. This proved not to be true. As the first guests arrived, they must have wondered who this odd middle-aged man was – high at ten p.m. He couldn’t be sure if it was the drugs or his state of mind, but Danny found it challenging to strike up conversations with these young men. Every topic seemed so arbitrary. Danny had developed a nurse’s knack for small talk but in the hospital conversation served a purpose, helping patients relax, and Danny rarely spoke about himself. At this party the words were passed back and forth like Monopoly money until Matt reminded him that if you were searching for someone to kiss, every conversation could be thrilling.
As midnight approached Matt suggested that they make their way to the roof to secure the best vantage point. They sneaked out of the party and climbed up the fire escape onto the slate roof, clambering to the central chimney stack where they took prime panoramic position facing in the direction of the Thames. They wrapped their arms around each other like a pair of Victorian chimney sweeps who were only able to express their love high above the city. With theEcstasy causing Danny to grind his teeth, he asked what dating was like these days. Matt said, ‘Mostly it’s good.’
This seemed improbable to Danny, but Matt doubled down.
