Chapter 45
Chapter 45
"Do you have any idea how sexy that was?" he told me.
Rob and I were walking along the road, towards the ball, towards … well, who knew? Then I smiled to myself, because there was one thing I did know – Speak No Monkey were going to be there, and if it was my letter that got them there, then there was a chance they would also honour my request in that letter: dedicating a song to Rob. I hoped they would. And I hoped he would love it. I hoped it would make up for just a little bit of all the horrible stuff.*
"At what point did you decide you'd come?" I asked.
A smile played on his lips. "I wanted to the moment you turned up."
"Yeah?"
"But I only knew I could when you produced the photos."
"So, about them?" I said.
He took a deep breath. "I've had them for ages on that film. I knew they could bring him down, but it couldn't be me. Despite everything you think, you're stronger than I am. At least, when it comes to my dad you are. Plus, he can't control you like he can me. You're a loose cannon. And he can't mess with you." He stopped. "But this isn't about the photos. You really were something just then."
"Well, you're really something too. That's why I wanted to fight for you."
He quickly kissed me, and we carried on walking. I could already hear the low thud of bass in the distance.
"Regardless of Dad, they'll still drag us through hell, you know," he said.
"I know."
"But you still—"
"If I'm going to be dragged to hell, I want to be dragged there with you. But, you know? It won't always be like this…"
He smiled, but shook his head, like he didn't believe me.
"No, no, it won't!" I insisted. "In twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty years' time, imagine how much better it'll be. So many people are fighting and campaigning – I read about it – things will be different by then. Gay people will be free to be themselves. Books won't be banned. Nobody's gonna be talking about ‘indoctrination' because people will accept that some people are different from them and it's not about choice, it's just about who you are. I think people will learn from history.*"
"You're saying, when we're in our forties, in 2023, or whatever, we won't be repeating the same tired arguments, dressed up slightly differently, but rooted in bigotry just the same as they always were?"
"Uh-huh!"
He shook his head. "I love you, but you're bonkers. People never learn from history. Never. I told you."
"I bet you!"
"OK," he said. "I'll bet you. If what you say turns out to be true, then we're fine, we're all happy, and that's enough of a prize for me. But if you're not … if it's history repeating…" He thought for a moment. "Then you promise me you'll write our story, put it out there, warts and all, and maybe someone will read it, and maybe someone will stop and think and see that we're just human and we have feelings. And maybe, if people can simply open their hearts, maybe one day they'll learn."
I shook his hand. "You have a deal.?"
We'd arrived at the entrance to school. I don't think either of us were expecting a warm reception – in fact, personally, I was expecting to be kicked out. But it had to be done. We had to try. Because every revolution starts with small moments of dissent. Small acts of rebellion.
"For ever and always, Jamie."
"For ever and always, Rob."
He took my hand.
We stared, apprehensive, but determined, right into the abyss.
Smiling.
And we walked.
Onwards.
*Folks, they didn't just dedicate a song to him, they only went and played an early version of "Next Door's Dog" a full ten months before it was released to the general public on their iconic Songs from the Sofa album, and dedicated that to him! It became our song.
*Ignorance is bliss, folks!
?And here it is, Rob. With love, with admiration, and with thanks. For ever and always, Jamie x