Danny and Luis sat down with Jasper at his Covent Garden office to decide whether to amend or cancel their wedding plans. Throughout his life Danny had suffered from bouts of anxiety that he was letting people down, parents, friends, colleagues, because at some point during childhood he accepted that letting people down was not an event or an incident – it was his identity. Being gay was a letdown from being straight. He had spent his adulthood trying to uproot that definition, applying rationality and positivity. Nonetheless, minor failures were often indistinguishable from major ones, since they reaffirmed the same underlying belief. One of the loftier hopes from last summer was that a wedding would free him from this recurring sensation. Instead, the engagement now presented an opportunity tolet down everyone in his life at the same time in the most public way possible.
In the meeting Jasper kept his notebook closed, adopting a more measured and formal tone that Danny found both understandable and upsetting. After hearing Luis talk about his desire for the wedding to be a new beginning rather than an affirmation of the past, Jasper eased into the conversation. The fact that Luis had skipped their first meeting now made sense. Jasper asked Luis the questions he would’ve asked back then – what marriage meant to him, including memories from his childhood. Luis was able to answer openly.
‘My family would attend almost every wedding in town. Even if we only knew the couple a little. They were one of the few occasions my parents wouldn’t fight. At weddings a stranger might mistake them for being in love. Back at home, when the only person watching was me – my parents would fight again, and I always wondered why they couldn’t behave like they did during the ceremony. There was one wedding in particular, when I was very young. It took place in the cathedral in Cádiz between two wealthy families. We sat at the back. I remember turning around when the bride entered. The sunlight was behind her veil. The air smelt of incense. Truly a union blessed by God. My dad hugged me tight, which was rare. Afterwards, at the reception, he told me that one day I would be married, and my wedding would be even bigger, and my bride would be even morebeautiful. He boasted to the guests about my great future, telling everyone how clever I was, how successful my career would be and how splendid my wedding would be. He loved me, at that party, because everyone believed him.’
Jasper stood up and walked over to the window. He looked at the busy street below.
‘Do either of you know about the first civil partnership registered in this country?’
They didn’t. Jasper continued, ‘The two men were Matthew Roche and Christopher Cramp. The venue was St Barnabas House Hospice in Worthing. The date was the 5th of December 2005. Eight years ago. There were fifteen guests. Matthew was in a wheelchair with a blanket over his legs, too weak to stand. For the ceremony, Christopher sat beside him wearing a yellow shirt. I wasn’t there. I know these details only from the newspaper articles and photographs. At the end of the day the hospice staff put another bed in Matthew’s room and Christopher slept beside him – that was their honeymoon, a night together in the hospice, their first and only night as legally recognized partners. The following day Matthew died of cancer. He had clung on to life long enough to be married to the man he loved. Why am I telling you this? Because these were the wedding stories we didn’t have growing up. But we have them now. For years they’ve had cathedrals while we’ve had hospices and hospitals. While they have weddings, we have funerals. It’stime to move on. This wedding can’t be a farewell to your past. It can only be a celebration of your future.’
Jasper concluded, ‘If you want to give up Black Rabbit Farm I can find another wedding to take the slot so you’re not on the hook for the costs. But you need to decide today, in this room, not after the trip to Spain. Easter will be too late for anyone to make plans. And this isn’t simply about the money; it’s about whether that venue still feels true to the two of you.’
Luis remained silent, not wishing to intervene in this decision. Danny loved the farm with the herb garden, the threshing barn and the marriage forest.
Jasper pressed, ‘Gentlemen, do we hold on to Black Rabbit Farm or give it up?’
Danny replied with a certainty that surprised everyone, ‘Give it up.’
Chapter Thirty-SevenA Cautionary Tale
When he heard the news about Danny’s possible move to Spain Matt asked if they could meet up. Rather than a bar or a coffee shop, he offered a tour around his new place of work, a mental health hospital in West London where he had recently been transferred and promoted to consultant nurse. Danny supposed that Matt not only wanted to talk, he also wanted to show another side of his life away from the clubs and parties, to prove that he was a serious person with responsibilities, a man who cared for others and excelled at his work. That evening Danny told Luis about Matt’s invitation. Luis thought for a time, aware that Matt might be presenting himself as an alternative.
‘You should go.’
Northwick Park Hospital was a maze of low-rise seventies concrete buildings. Matt met him at the front gates where they hugged. The ward was secured with two sets of locked doors, one on the ground floor, the second upstairs at the end of a narrow corridor. Inside some of the patients sat on chairs, still and sick. Other patients paced the hall, their agitation so severe it was hard to imagine them ever being at peace. There were young men with crystal meth-induced psychosis. There were older men whose psychosis remained a mystery. Neither Danny nor Matt spoke much inside the ward. Danny grew self-conscious about the soles of his shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor. After the tour Danny breathed deeply, putting a hand on Matt’s shoulder.
‘How do you cope?’
Matt replied, ‘Sometimes I don’t.’
In Northwick Park, a mosaic of dog-walking lawns and five-a-side football pitches, they found a secluded spot under the branches of a horse chestnut tree. Danny, knowing hospital canteen food, had made his own sandwiches filled with spiced jackfruit and red cabbage slaw accompanied by two wedges of a home-baked carrot cake. Delighted by the offering Matt had brought a mauve hospital blanket, which he spread over the grass. Danny shared the sandwiches and they ate for a time before Matt said, ‘It’s been bothering me. The idea that you might see my life as a cautionary tale. Asingle guy in his late thirties, frittering away his weekends on drugs and dancing, punished for his promiscuity.’
Danny put a hand on his arm.
‘Matt, that thought has never crossed my mind.’
But Matt continued, ‘I don’t care what most people think about me. But I care what you think. I’m not going to offer any opinion on whether you should move to Spain with Luis because only you can know. But I wanted to tell you this: I was in a relationship in my twenties and head over heels in love with the guy. I would’ve done anything for him. And I did. He asked if we could stop using protection. He said it would be more intimate. I agreed. That’s when I contracted HIV, not when I was single, not when I was sleeping around. After I tested positive it was like a double diagnosis. My health and my judge of character. Here’s the worst part. I stayed with him. For two more years. Because I was terrified of being on my own. After that relationship ended it was hard to trust anyone. Every time I went into the clinic to have a check-up I would fill out those questionnaires. One of the questions is – have you ever agreed to anything in a sexual relationship which made you uncomfortable? Every visit, I was flagged as at risk from domestic abuse. That’s how I saw myself – as a weak man, too weak to be in love because the other person would always take advantage. Danny, I’m not trying to say this isn’t the right move for you. I don’t know Luis. I just want to make sure that you don’t think of me as a cautionary tale.’
Danny replied, ‘Matt, I promise, if I move to Spain, one of the hardest challenges will be leaving you behind.’
Content with this answer Matt lay down on the blanket resting his head on Danny’s leg. Danny ran his fingers through Matt’s hair, curious how the act of intimacy would feel. Matt closed his eyes. In the distance a group of kids began playing football. The sounds of their laughter drifted over and for once it didn’t feel like they were laughing at them.
Chapter Thirty-EightAn Offer
Ahead of the exploratory visit to Spain, Danny’s parents arrived in London to meet Luis for the first time. Luis took charge of the evening, offering to prepare a variety of traditional Andalusian dishes. He had never cooked these for Danny, in the same way that he had never taken him to the south of Spain. It was trivial by comparison, but another wall was coming down. They spent Saturday morning buying produce from specialist traders at Borough Market near London Bridge including fresh sardines, Manzanilla olives, Payoyo cheese and Monastrell red wine. At home Danny set about baking a traditional tarta de almendra based on Luis’s grandmother’s recipe, made with lemon zest and grated cinnamon. As they worked side by side in the kitchen Luis wondered how Danny’s parents would feel about their plan.
‘As you make peace with your parents, I ask you to move abroad.’
Danny pointed out that his parents would see him more in Spain than they ever had in London and they would be happy for the chance to travel now that the Bude guest house was being run so well.
When Danny’s parents arrived they both gave Luis a hug, not an awkward handshake but an embrace. The introduction was so warm everyone started laughing without knowing why it was so funny. After they settled down, Danny’s mother glanced at her son, concerned tonight might be full of inadvertent wrong words or misjudged questions. Putting her at ease Danny kissed her on the cheek, while his dad quipped, ‘We hear you wish to make an honest man out of our son.’
Luis replied, ‘It’s your son who made an honest man out of me.’
At dinner it became apparent that his parents weren’t sitting in judgement on Luis; they were worried about how he saw them. They feared being perceived as bad parents and were trying to impress upon Luis that the estrangement had never been about a lack of love. To this end they arrived with evidence: photos of Danny as a happy child – including one he had never seen before, on the beach at Bude with his dad holding him in the air, joyful in a way that only children can be. His father said, ‘He was the happiest child.’
This description had always needled Danny, sounding to his ear like a lament, implying that he was a boy who had lost his happiness when he realized he was gay. His parents hadn’t fucked him up, being gay had. But watching his parents share the stories behind these photos Danny understood that these were the years when they were most proud of their parenting.
