Chapter 44

Chapter 44

Well, here it is, folks. We've reached the finale. Well, sort of. You already know you're not getting an "end", right? Rob would hate it if I wrote one, and it's not right, anyway. Don't be frustrated if you have questions – that's just real life, and real life continues, and isn't wrapped up neatly. And this has been a snapshot of real life. So, thank you for being part of it. I hope you enjoyed it*, and, at the very least, enjoyed my thoughts on story structure. Keep your fingers crossed for the TV adaptation, huh?

OK.

So, it unfolded like this:

I phoned Beth and told her what I needed her to do.

And then I sat and worked out what I wanted to say and how I wanted to say it. I knew what I was going to do, I just wanted to make sure that my words were as eloquent and watertight as possible. Of course, I had no idea if Rob was going to play ball with me, but I knew I had to try.

Cut to: the day of the summer ball.

I spent the afternoon getting ready – black dinner suit, bow tie, the works. If you're going down in flames, then go down fabulous. I'd decided to take Beth up on her ticket offer and go to that ball. It was my idea. I'd arranged the whole thing. Why shouldn't I have a nice night like everyone else?

At five p.m. Beth and Dan arrived at my front door – along with Casper. Beth was in the most beautiful ivory dress, not a huge gown, subtle, classy, her hair in ringlets, honestly, she looked stunning. Dan was stunning too, in his dinner suit and bow tie and shiny dress shoes. Casper … well, just his regular fur, obviously. "Thank god you found him!" I said.

"Mrs C found him," Dan corrected. "Her hunch paid off – there's only one animal shelter near here, the same place she got her Cavalier King Charles spaniel from, and it turns out no one wants a scrappy mongrel, so she wasn't too late. Although they still wanted thirty quid for him." He handed me Casper's lead. "Good luck."

"Thanks. If it goes to plan, I'll see you both inside the ball, OK?"

"We're happy to wait," Dan said.

I shook my head. "If I do it, I do it with him. Together. But thank you. It means a lot."

Dan nodded. "You look fantastic, by the way."

I smiled. "Thanks. So do both of you. Good enough to eat!"

"Please don't," Beth said.

Dan waggled his eyebrows at me and smirked.

There was one last thing I felt I should do. I went up to my room and I had every intention of taking Electra down from my wall. Talking to her had helped, writing my stories had helped; gradually, I had worked out who I was, what I wanted and what was important to me. Enough pretending. Real was what I wanted, and things were about to get very real.

But do you know what? As I raised my hand to pull off the first corner, I just couldn't go through with it. I've always been sentimental, but Electra and I had seen some stuff, we'd been through it, and she'd always been there. Electra was a strong, independent woman, and that was something I admired.

So. Electra stayed. I think that confused my mum no end, but she stayed.*

By the time I was walking down the gravel driveway at the home of Sir Jeremy West MP, I'd downed several vodka and Cokes and was feeling invincible. I stopped about five metres from the front door, Casper sitting down at my feet. I didn't have to wait long. After a flicker behind some curtains in the right-hand window, Sir Jeremy himself strode out, Margaret not far behind him.

"You're trespassing!" he shouted.

"I've come to take Rob to the ball," I replied.

"How dare you. He's not interested in you, you're disgusting. Get the hell off my property."

"I've come to take Rob to the ball!"

"Are you drunk? You've got thirty seconds before the police are called."

At this point, Rob emerged. He was also in a dinner suit, also in a black bow tie, and my heart filled with joy when I saw he also had a red handkerchief tucked in his jacket pocket, just like me, just like we'd said we would. In all the hate, he'd still tried, one small piece of love, impossible to extinguish.

"Jamie?" he said, and then, "Casper?"

"Your dad dumped him at the dog shelter," I said. I met his beautiful, hopeful eyes, and I smiled.

Rob made to run forward, but his dad stopped him, before turning his attention back to me. "You're not welcome here!" He spat the words at me. "Take the dog, and yourself, and never come back. Ten seconds."

Next to emerge was some girl in a ridiculous puffy peach ball gown thing – looking every inch the Disney princess. Presumably this was Katie, Rob's shipped-in date for the ball so everyone could see he wasn't gay. "Who are you?" she said, her voice haughty and entitled.*

"Me?" I said. "Oh, I'm Rob's boyfriend."

I didn't dare look at Rob, I just let the shocked silence hang in the air for a moment. Enjoyable.

"Margaret? Call the police," Sir Jeremy said.

"Ah, ah, wait!" I told her. "I think you should hear me out at least, don't you? You see, the problem is, Sir Jeremy West MP, the problem is … I love your son. I love him. And I know that he loves me. And when two people love each other, I think they should be together. Why can't they be together?"

He took a few steps towards me.

"He doesn't love you. You're disgusting. Leave. Now."

"I have news for you though, Sir Jeremy West MP. Tidings of great joy, no less! Your son is gay. I am gay. It's just who we are. And, know what? It isn't disgusting. It's fine. In fact, it's great! I've never been happier! But hey, if you still think it's wrong, or your god does, then I suggest you simply don't have gay sex. But you have no right to dictate what the rest of us do. So, here's an idea. How about you mind your own business, grow up and get over it?*"

In the distance, I swear I heard Electra whooping and cheering.

Which was nice because no one else was.

Rob was staring me, eyes wide – in fear?

Sir Jeremy started manhandling me, trying to frogmarch me off his land.

"Get your gross hands off me!" I shouted. I twisted and shook myself free of him. Casper started barking.

Katie moved forward, seemingly gliding in her ball gown. "I'm sorry you're upset and that your crush on Rob hasn't worked out. But you really need to leave now. Because it's me who's going to the ball with him."

I shook my head. "It's just…"

"Go now, and there needn't be any more trouble," she said.

"It's just…"

"It's obvious you've been drinking and you're on some destructive streak…"

"It's just … he gives such good blow jobs and that would be so wasted on you, Katie."

I started giggling.

More shocked silence.

So I backed it up with: "Seriously, such good head.*"

I looked at Rob and shrugged. I swear, he was stifling a smile.

Sir Jeremy lurched for me again then, and despite how pissed I was, I managed to quickstep around him, and now was the time, because I'd pushed my luck and he didn't care – it didn't matter that my argument was crass, or if it was eloquent – nothing I could have said would have made any difference. He was a homophobic bigot, and people like that will always find a reason – religion, decency, age inappropriateness, won't someone think of the fucking children? – to justify their hate.

So I whipped out the envelope.

The photographs scattered on the ground.

He saw.

And then he stopped.

Oh yeah, he froze deathly still then.

Covert pictures. Of Sir Jeremy West MP. Flirting, touching and kissing … his secretary, Margaret. Date stamps on the photos: from when his wife was still alive but dying of cancer.

"Hypocrite," I said. "Talking about decency and family values when you're fucking your secretary while your wife is dying. But that's your type all over, isn't it? You're liars, con artists, nasty little scammers. And you call me disgusting? When all I've done is love someone who happens to be a boy, like me? When all I've done is be loyal to him, care about him, want to be with him? That's what's disgusting, is it?"

I watched him shake as he picked the photos up.

"And by the way," I added, "I have the negatives."

He raised his head slowly and fixed me with a stare. "What do you want?"

"Oh. Just to go to the ball with my boyfriend. That's literally all. And for you not to send him away to some horrendous ‘correctional facility'. You just have to let us be. That's all. We won't make your secrets public – if the people of Lincolnshire are ignorant and selfish enough to keep voting you in, that's on them. After all, we get the leaders we deserve, don't we?"

Sir Jeremy shook his head. "He won't go with you. He doesn't want to. Do you, Robert?"

I swallowed because this was the moment. The real test. I looked at Rob, I smiled, and I held my hand out.

He stared back at me.

"You said for ever," I said. "You said for ever and you said to trust you. So. I'm trusting you."

He didn't move.

I took an unsteady breath, but the panic was rising. "I'm proud of you, Rob. I feel proud of you. Of everything you are. Everything we are. I love you. I want to show the world I love you. And I fancy going to the ball. So? How about it?"

*"I absolutely hated the way SJG constantly ‘spoke' to me during this book. He's so annoying. I hated Noah Can't Even too and don't get me started on Jack from Heartbreak Boys. One star." (Inevitable Amazon review)

*And I still have the poster, even now.

*One day, I'll write something devastating about entitled rich kids.

*Truth.

*Also truth.