Chapter 38

Chapter 38

"Exciting news," Rob said, appearing in the doorway of his bedroom the following morning, in just his boxers, carrying two steaming-hot cups of tea. "I just had a conversation on the phone with my father."

I sat up in bed, suddenly wide awake. "And?"

Rob put a cup on the bedside table next to me, then walked round to the other side of the bed, sliding under the duvet. "Is the suspense killing you?"

"Rob! Jesus, what did he say?"

"First of all: he's got what he wanted. He's in the cabinet. Education Secretary of all things. Hooray, hoorah, well done to him."

"Right."

"But that wasn't why he was phoning. Prenton called his office, spoke to Margaret, his secretary, just as I thought she would. By all accounts she was blabbering on about obscenity and vulgarity, not making a whole lot of sense, but Dad wanted to know what that was all about."

I was on edge. "Right?!"

Rob smiled. "So I told Dad I'd basically been suspended for swearing at a teacher. Dad gave me an earful, about how that's unacceptable, especially now he's Education Secretary, blah, blah … at which point, and I'm not necessarily proud of it, Jay, but I pulled the dead mum card. You know? How dealing with her death has left me with so much anger, it's hard for me to process it…"

"Really, Rob? Is that a bit—"

He shrugged. "It guilt trips him, though. And I kind of feel it's OK, because Mum's not actually here to defend me, and she would want to, so this way, she sort of is? I promised, hand on heart, I'd mend my ways, control myself, be a shining beacon of virtue, or whatever, and that seemed to shut him up."

"What about Prenton calling him again, though? To actually try to speak to him?"

"Yeah, I told him she'd probably try. He said he doesn't want to speak to her, because she'll just bend his ear about funding for the new performing arts block she's after." He turned to me. "It's not a dead cert, but I think I might have got away with it."

"Fuck, yes!" I said.

We kissed on the lips, then he reached for a tea, taking a sip while keeping the playful smile on his face.

"There's more, isn't there?" I said.

"Dad's hosting a party here at the weekend – it's a load of horrific political types – but he wants me there because of the whole happy families bullshit he has to portray…" He blew on his tea. "He said I'm allowed to bring a couple of friends. So? How about it?"

I put my tea down. "Right. So, everything about that screams bad idea to me, Rob."

"Why? It's not like I'm going to suck you off in front of the Home Secretary."

Um, OK! Noted! "I just mean, won't your dad be suspicious? If I suddenly turn up out of the blue. After everything that happened at your old school? He'll be looking out for it, won't he?"

"But what about if it's not just you? What if this is where your previous idea comes into play? What if Beth and Dan come too? Then it's just a group of mates, isn't it? The more the merrier, honestly – the rest of the company will be crusty old politicians, but the booze and food will be good."

I sipped my tea, not looking at him.

"What?" he asked.

"What's this really about?"

"Nothing!" he said, unable to stop the smile playing on his lips.

"Because it's not just about you being bored at one of your dad's parties."

He sniffed and sipped his tea.

"And it's not about looking good in front of anyone, because I'm not convinced that's really something you care about."

"Oh, you're a right little Miss Marple, aren't you?" He put his tea down. "Every single person at that party tomorrow night either voted for, or supported, section 28. Quite a lot of them have written vile opinion pieces in the right-wing press about people like us, Jay. They're evil. They're full of hate. So, it gives me a bit of a thrill to think there could be so much love, right in front of their bigoted faces, they just don't realize it."

"In all that hate, there can still be love," I mused, remembering his words up at the radar station.

"We might not be able to beat them, yet, but we can sure as hell keep rebelling. We can be subversive. The revolution continues. It has to."

I nodded. "OK, I just want to confirm: you're not going to pull a stunt like kissing me in front of your dad?"

"Jamie, I haven't got a death wish! I just want you there." He kissed me. "Because you make my world a better place."

I smiled and we sipped our tea for a bit.

"Jamie?"

This was another bad idea, I could sense it.

"Uh-huh?"

"How about we go into town after this, and both get an ear pierced?"

I sighed. "And you want to do that before your dad's party? Why don't we both just turn up with rainbow flags and T-shirts which have ‘Massive Poof' written on them?"

"I just think it would look good."

"It's really gay."

"We are really gay. Have you not noticed?"

"I'm not sure we want other people to notice."

"C'mon! We can tell Dad … that we're doing a play at school … about … pirates? And—"

"Rob. Everyone at school's talking. About us."

He went silent.

"Beth told me," I added. I glanced at him to gauge his reaction. He was staring into the middle distance. "Rob? Say something."

He sniffed and turned to me. "Let them talk."

"But—"

"Let them talk, Jay. And I'll tell you this: if we show any fear, any embarrassment, that's when they'll know. Until then, it's just rumour. Anyway, loads of guys get earrings, it's not a gay thing. How else do you explain the entire punk movement?"

"Isn't there a gay ear?"

"A gay ear?"

"As in, if the earring is in a particular ear, it's a secret sign that you're gay?*"

He shrugged. "Well, we have a fifty-fifty chance. More to the point, do you want it done?"

"Does it hurt?"

"Probably."

"And … you want one?"

He smiled, put his tea down again and cuddled up to me. "It's a sort of … little sign, right? I would never have done this before meeting you," he said. "That's the weird thing. Never in a million years. I've always tried too hard to hide all those bits of me that people hate so much. Now … it's not just that I don't care. It's … almost as if I want them to see, I think. And I don't understand it, because that sounds so … reckless. Such a reckless thing to do because we know where that could lead. And still … for the first time, with you … it's…" He hesitated, working it out, I think. "Fuck," he said, "I think it's pride."

I laughed.

"I'm proud to be with you. Proud of … us. What have you done to me, Jamie Hampton?"

I laughed again. "I know what you mean. I think I feel it too. Something like I want to show you off. Be seen with you."

"And we know we can't do that—"

"So little things, like the watch, the message on the radar dish—"

"The earring?"

"It's a way of showing that. A little show of pride," I said.

He nodded. "It is." He released a breath. "I never thought … I would ever feel that." His eyes met mine. "That's you. You've done that."

"And so have you," I said. I found his hand and squeezed. "Let's get the earrings."

*I swear I spent as much time worrying about this in my youth, as I did about quicksand and the Bermuda Triangle. Turns out none of them are really an issue. (But the gay ear thing was definitely a thing.) And it's the right ear. I think…