Chapter Twelve
‘Hello,’ he said, his voice low and drowsy, his eyes fluttering open as her face hovered above his. ‘That was lovely.’
‘Delicious,’ she said. ‘But I think I’m full now. Can we …’
‘Chloe–’
‘Madame Lol left some condoms,’ she said. She reached across to open the drawer, but he caught her hand.
‘We shouldn’t, though,’ he said. ‘Do that, I mean. I’m getting married, remember?’
She froze. ‘You are kidding me?’
She was sitting on his abdomen, a mere lift and wriggle away from having him inside her at last, and he was drawing a line? Between oral sex with cream cakes and full-on sex?
Or was it … oh god. Perhaps he really was gay, not bi. Maybe he just didn’t like penetrative sex with women?
Or maybe he did actually love Zara, and didn’t want to be properly unfaithful? The mother of his child? His soon-to-be wife . What was the truth of all this?
‘Let me finish what I started,’ he said. ‘Lie down.’
‘No, Joel!’ she said, brimming over with frustration. So many types of frustration. ‘What the hell’s going on with you? You’re telling me doing … that to me against a cemetery wall, and licking cream off my most intimate body parts is okay, but fucking me isn’t?’ Suddenly she felt all kinds of cheap. ‘Do you –’ To her dismay, a tear escaped her. She swiped it away. ‘Do you actually love her, then? I thought you said you were only marrying her because it was the right thing to do! Like, you didn’t really want to.’ Now she felt nauseous. The universe was punishing her for being slutty with a cream cake.
He wouldn’t look at her. ‘Like I said, it’s complicated.’
She rolled off him and lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, willing the tears of shame to stop.
He shifted onto his side, trying not to lie on their shackled hands. ‘Fuck!’ he said as they remained trapped beneath them. ‘Fucking chain. FUCK! ’
She moved so their bound hands became free.
‘Sorry,’ he said. He watched her for a while, saying nothing. Then he gently pushed her damp hair off her face and traced her lips with a finger. ‘Look. Please believe me when I tell you that this – us – is the best thing that could have happened to me right now. It’s like you’re that angel you talked about, sent to give me one last beautiful moment before real life sets in.’ His eyes slid away from hers again. ‘Suburban life in shitty Sheffield. Christ almighty.’
But then he smiled. ‘And now, my angel …’ his hand found its way between her legs again, ‘let me send you back to heaven.’
‘No.’ She stopped his hand. ‘I’m not doing that. I want you properly. Tell me the truth – is it because you don’t like doing it with women? As in, having full sex with women. What I mean is, because you prefer …’ She stopped and screwed up her face. This was hard; he might be in denial.
He raked his hand through his hair, looking baffled. ‘Prefer what ?’
‘Because you’re gay? Or bi? What in actual fact are you?’
‘ GAY? What the fuck?’ He looked down at his cock, still standing proud and pretty. ‘Do I look like I’m gay?’
‘Bi?’
‘No!’
‘You don’t fancy men?’ Now she was properly confused. ‘Are you sure you’re not in denial?’
‘I do not fancy men, no.’
‘Not at all?’
He shook his head, looking even more bewildered. ‘I once snogged a guy at uni, because he said he was in love with me and I thought I’d see how it felt, but it did nothing for me.’ He looked at her again, then down at his cock, which after that conversation was suddenly less reinforced steel and more one of those sea cucumbers she’d seen on a snorkelling trip. ‘Why on earth would you think that?’
‘Oscar Wilde? The love that dare not speak its name? The Sound of Music? Joel – you organised your whole stag round a visit to Oscar Wilde’s tomb! What was I supposed to think?’
For a moment he was speechless, blinking in surprise. Then he lay back and began to laugh. And laugh and laugh. His eyes were glassy with tears.
‘Oh shit, I’m dying. Chloe, you absolute doofus; you gorgeous idiot.’
‘You’re not …’
‘No, I’m not gay. I’m very boringly straight. And believe me when I tell you, I’ve never fancied anyone as much as I fancy you right now.’ He shook his head, and chuckled some more, wiping his eyes, then finally his face grew serious. ‘Maybe that’s because it’s my last moment of freedom, or maybe it’s just because you’re so bloody adorable. But please believe me when I say, I have my reasons for holding back, and talking about them won’t benefit either of us.’
He stopped, and then the silence started to feel heavy. She had so many questions, but she stayed quiet. Still he didn’t want to talk.
‘Or … dammit,’ he said finally, ‘maybe I should … ’ His hand moved to her breast; he began to stroke it. ‘She’ll never know. And like you said, it’s pretty much splitting hairs. After all, I licked cream out of your–’
No,’ she interrupted, having made up her mind even while wanting him this much. ‘No proper sex unless you tell me the truth, Joel. I can’t spend tonight with you and then say goodbye for ever, never knowing what it was all about. Why did you need to see Oscar so badly if you’re not gay? And doing the right thing . Why don’t you just support her financially? Being a single mum’s not shameful these days, and if her family disapproves, she can just ignore them, right?’
If Joel had looked confused before, he now looked dumbfounded. ‘Single mum? What?’
‘Doing the right thing? And why Oscar?’
He let out an enormous sigh. ‘Oh Chloe. What on earth has been going on in your beautiful head? A baby? I’m gay?’ He buried his face in her neck, and she felt his breath on her skin as he sighed again. Then he went still, before beginning to shake with laughter.
‘It’s not funny!’ she said.
But … what the heck? Was he crying ?
‘Joel?’ she said, turning her head, trying to look at him, but he kept his face hidden.
‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Chloe.’
Oh god . He really was crying. The laughter had turned to tears.
‘I’ve fucked up. Everything’s fucked. I thought it might make things better, doing the right thing. Saving her. Her for him. Like … atoning. But …’ he sucked in a breath, trying to stop the tears. ‘Meeting you; you making me think about things, I’ve been trying not to think about things, just do, don’t think. Maybe I’ve only made everything worse.’
The words all ran together in his distress, and she couldn’t make head nor tale of them. A lump formed in her throat as she stroked his hair.
‘Start at the beginning,’ she said. ‘I’m not going anywhere, neither are you, and we’ve got all night. What did you mean, her for him ? No, just tell me, first of all. Do you love her?’
There was silence for a moment, then he said, his voice steady again, his tone flat, ‘No. She’s really lovely; I wouldn’t marry her if she wasn’t. But I don’t love her. She’s …’
‘From a … conservative family?’
He nodded. ‘Recent immigrants – pretty traditional.’
I got something right then.
‘Zara’s the youngest daughter; she’s twenty now. The others: two boys – you met Rohan– and a girl, are all older. Zara was working in the family business, the shipping company, and studying part-time at the local college, and she started hanging out with the students – partying, drinking. Her parents tried to put a stop to it but she’s strong-willed. As far as her family was concerned, Zara was a problem.’
‘Like Maria. A flibbertigibbet?’
He paused, and she gave him a weak smile. ‘Sorry, inappropriate.’
He smiled back, shaking his head. ‘Yes, like Maria. Their solution to solving the problem of Zara was an arranged marriage. When Zara said she’d never agree to that, Rohan got nasty – he’s fixated on family honour and would go to extreme lengths to protect that. She was desperate, and terrified, and saw me as her only way out.’
‘But why would you? Because you got her pregnant?’
His face, which had become serious again, broke into another smile. ‘Where do you get your ideas from? No – all I ever did was kiss her that time in the stationery room. I knew she liked me; she made that obvious. And I knew she was trying to escape an arranged marriage, because she bent my ear about it every time I visited their offices. I liked her, but I didn’t want to get involved. I wasn’t …’ His smile faded. ‘It wasn’t a good time for me. I’d tell her, go to social services, the college counsellor; go to the police – UK law says you can’t force someone into an arranged marriage these days. There are people to help with that.’
‘So how come she didn’t?’
‘Too scared of Rohan. And then he caught us fooling around, like I said. She was in a very compromising position; it looked like we were about to have sex.’
‘Joel, it’s surely not a coincidence. She–’
‘Yep.’ He pulled a face. ‘She set it up; she confessed later. Zara’s one clever girl. Said let’s do naked butt pics, asked me to lift her up. I’m not sure how she timed it so well, but like I said, she’s bloody smart. She’d have done anything to get out of that marriage. But you would, wouldn’t you?’
‘I guess,’ said Chloe. ‘And snagging you too – what a blinder. Well played that girl.’
I still hate you though, Zara.
‘She took a gamble I’d step up in the first instance,’ he said, ‘to save her reputation, and that with a bit of persuasion her family would come round, see me as an acceptable boyfriend. My parents’ social standing helped – Dad’s high up in the Army, Mum’s from a wealthy background. Next thing I knew, there were expectations and then …’ Joel sighed, squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. ‘She begged me to marry her and said that if I wanted to, I could divorce her as soon as that was acceptable.’
‘Even so, that’s a huge sacrifice to make. I don’t understand why you agreed to it.’
‘If I hadn’t stepped up, she’d have run away. Like I said, she’s terrified of Rohan.’
‘Rohan …’ said Chloe, remembering his dark snake eyes; his fingers squeezing her arm, like a boa constrictor. ‘I don’t get it. Encouraging you to spend a weekend of debauchery in Paris. That doesn’t sound very honourable.’
He shook his head. ‘Double standards. What do you reckon he’s been up to these past hours? My guess is it’s not queuing for the Louvre.’
‘That’s despicable.’
‘Big thumbs up to Zara for outwitting him,’ said Joel. ‘But … god. I wish she’d gone about it differently.’
They went quiet again, then he lifted his head from her shoulder and shifted so he was sitting up. ‘It’s fine,’ he said. ‘I’m cool with it; maybe it won’t be for too long.’
‘I still don’t understand,’ said Chloe. ‘It’s so selfless of you. See, I thought it was a two-way thing. I thought she was pregnant, and you were marrying her for the sake of appearances and to support her, but in return she’d turn a blind eye to your boyfriends.’
‘My boyfriends ? And you thought I was gay just because I wanted to visit Oscar Wilde?’
‘Well, you must admit it’s quite unusual, for a stag do. If she’s not covering up for your secret life, then what are you getting out of it? Other than a halo? You don’t love her; you’ve never slept with her. You’re just helping her get out of an arranged marriage.’
He took her free hand and laced his fingers with hers. ‘You’re sort of right – there is more to it. The Oscar Wilde part.’
Ah. The truth. Finally!
‘You can tell me anything,’ she said. ‘I’m very understanding. Even though I’ve had a sheltered upbringing, I’ve watched Sex Education and all of those things.’
He swallowed a laugh. ‘Fuck’s sake, I’m trying to be serious here. You’re making that difficult. Which is probably why I love you.’
Her eyes widened.
‘As in, I love your craziness,’ he blustered. ‘The way you can’t just take what I say at face value. You have to chew it over, take it apart, turn it upside down and inside out – and then come up with entirely the wrong conclusion.’
‘Oscar Wilde, Joel. You were saying?’
He sighed again and went quiet. ‘Okay. I’m going to get emotional now – I won’t be able to help it. See, you’re not the only one here with a broken heart. So I need you to hold me.’
What on earth was he about to reveal?
He shuffled down again and put his head on her chest, his arm across her waist. She rested her hand on his head. ‘I got you.’
‘I had an older brother.’ He paused and swallowed. ‘Monty. Dad named him after a World War Two hero, General Montgomery. It kind of set the tone for what was expected of him. Let’s just say, Monty didn’t come anywhere close to those expectations.’
His use of the past tense made Chloe’s heart drop like stone. She braced herself against what was to come, holding him tight with her free arm, clasping his shackled hand with hers.
‘When we were kids, Monty loved dressing up, like, walking around the house in Mum’s shoes and so on. He was loud and funny and a total drama queen. That was okay when Dad was away, but when we were all home, Dad didn’t respond at all well to Monty’s theatrics.’
‘How much older than you was Monty?’ she asked.
‘Two years. I idolised him. He made me laugh so much; he was so over the top, and he was the kindest big brother imaginable. He was very clever with words, too, brilliant at English. Just like Oscar Wilde, in fact. He was in a school production of The Importance of Being Earnest , and that was what set him off on his enduring obsession with Oscar.’
‘Oh, I get it now.’ Chloe’s heart was hurting for so many reasons.
‘We all knew he was gay, of course, but Mum and Dad refused to acknowledge it. Rather than talk to him about it, they pretended it wasn’t happening; made out he was just this flamboyant person who loved the theatre. They’re pretty religious; to them being gay is a sin. All his friends knew – everyone knew – I mean, it was obvious. But nobody dared speak the truth in front of Mum and Dad for fear of offending them. As long as Monty didn’t bring up his sexuality or talk about his relationships, or do anything gay in public, they turned a blind eye. Or they were just in denial.’
‘The love that dare not speak its name,’ she said. ‘Even now.’
‘Yes. We tiptoed round it, and when he left home I thought everything would be fine. At last he could come out, be openly gay. He went to drama school, had a brilliant time and did well there. But there was a problem, ’cause Mum and Dad disapproved of his career choice. Mum was easier on him; she persuaded Dad they should continue to support him financially, but when he left RADA he was on his own.’
‘I guess it’s not the steadiest of jobs, acting?’
‘Nope. He was a waiter when he was resting, but then Covid hit.’
‘God, of course. What a disaster.’
‘He had no job, no money, so he went home. I was in Sheffield by then, but Monty told me how things were; said the house was like a tinderbox. Eventually, after an argument, he confronted them about their attitude, told them about his boyfriend, all of it.’
‘I’m guessing they weren’t supportive?’
‘Dad chucked him out. Told him never to darken their door again. Mum tried to change Dad’s mind – she was always easier on Monty than he was, even though she hated how he’d turned out, but Dad’s a very domineering man. He wouldn’t listen to her.’
Chloe sucked in a breath. ‘But why ? Why would he be like that?’
‘Dad hated Monty’s whole way of being. His sexuality, his personality; he was the polar opposite to Dad, who’s that cliché buttoned-up, repressed Englishman. Monty was highly strung, over-emotional; he looked like a girl, flounced about the place.’ Joel smiled. ‘He loved scarves. He really was an Oscar.’
‘I’m sure I’d have adored him,’ said Chloe. ‘Then what happened?’
‘I hated my parents for what they did, the things they said to him. They even told him to seek conversion therapy. He’d always known what they thought, but it still crushed him when Dad disowned him, he was so sensitive. I told him to come stay with me in Sheffield. I had a one-bed flat, there was just enough room for two and fuck lockdown. But he wanted to stay down south to be near his boyfriend. Luke.’ His expression darkened. ‘Bloody Luke.’
‘You didn’t like him?’
‘Never met him. But it was a pretty one-sided relationship; Luke messed him about, slept with other guys. He didn’t want Monty moving in; Luke wasn’t nice. So Monty got a room in a hostel. He wouldn’t ask any of his other friends to put him up because of lockdown. It must’ve been so miserable for him, stuck in a London hostel. We messaged every day. But then …’ He trailed off and squeezed Chloe harder.
She kissed his head, stroked his hair. ‘What happened?’
‘He stopped messaging; wasn’t answering his phone. I was worried, so I contacted Luke. It turned out they’d had a proper bust up; Luke said Monty was “too needy” and had finished with him. And Monty had run out of money. He was too proud to ask me for more; I’d already bunged him a few hundred. He spent quite a lot on … well. He liked to get high.’
‘Oh god.’
‘Yep. And then …’ He took a breath, breathed it out slowly. ‘He was beaten up. It was a homophobic attack. He was with someone he’d picked up; the guy ran away. But the attackers, they didn’t mean to …’ He trailed off and shook his head.
‘Oh no. Was he–’
‘They punched him; knocked him to the ground and kicked him; kicked him a lot. When he fell, he hit his head on some steps. No one helped him. I guess the streets were more or less deserted.’ Tears were running down his face now.
‘Oh Joel, this is so, so awful.’
‘He died. Just … died. Alone. I don’t know if he was high, or drunk, or it was the bang on the head by itself. But by the morning he was dead in a shop doorway. The police caught the guys who attacked him, but they got off lightly because they only intended to rough him up, apparently. Just another hate crime.’
Chloe was crying too now. Everything was finally making sense, and her heart was breaking all over again.
‘I know it’s a leap, agreeing to marry Zara,’ he said, wiping his eyes, ‘but I guess …I needed to somehow make up for failing him. Do something good to atone for that, like, get one over on the bigots and the bullies.’
‘How could you possibly have failed him? It was nothing to do with you!’
‘I could have tried harder. Been there for him more.’
‘No, no. Look, that was a dreadful time, lockdown, and he was stuck in a horrible situation. But it would only have been temporary. And if he hadn’t been attacked, he’d have found work when lockdown ended, and somewhere to live, another boyfriend. A nice, faithful one.’
‘A happily ever after?’ His expression darkened. ‘Fuck’s sake, Chloe – get real. The world’s not like that. People cheat, let you down. As you know. Not doing too well on that score yourself?’
The sudden change in tone hurt. She removed her hand from his head and sat up straighter, drying her eyes. ‘Well, at least I’m not making a stupid sacrifice that makes no sense whatsoever. I mean, how does marrying someone to save them from an arranged marriage make you feel better about your brother? Where’s the logic in that?’
‘I don’t believe in marriage,’ he said. ‘The whole true love thing is bollocks. I saw my parents’ horrible marriage; my brother fell madly in love and probably died because of how that ended. And look at you – your true love trashed your life, right? So if I could help save someone I cared about, who deserved saving, when I couldn’t save my own brother, then I thought I may as well do that. Like I said, to atone.’ He shrugged. ‘She’s cool, she’s fun, she’s pretty; there’s plenty of family money. No complaints.’
Where had Joel gone? Who was this cynical, jaded person?
‘Do you think Monty would want you to marry someone you don’t love to make up for what you see as letting him down? Which, by the way, you didn’t?’
‘What would you know?’
He’d retreated into himself, or into some dark place where she was no longer welcome.
‘Nothing, apparently. Shall we get up?’ She yanked their chain, and it bit into his wrist. ‘Let’s go find someone to get this fucking padlock off, shall we?’
He’d closed his eyes. ‘I’m too tired, now. We’ll do that in the morning. You’re okay with me stopping here?’
The cheek of the man. She looked down at him … and her anger dissipated as quickly as it had arrived. Oh Joel. You stupid, stupid man. You stupid, sad, mixed-up man.
‘We’ll get cold like this,’ she said. ‘We need to get under the duvet.’
Without a word he slid off the bed and stood waiting, not looking at her; she followed, pulled back the duvet, and they climbed back in. He lay down and closed his eyes.
Chloe tossed and turned, as far as was possible. It wasn’t easy getting comfortable, now they were trying not to touch each other.
She hoped she wouldn’t need to get up in the night for the loo.
The moon continued to cast its light for a while, then it slid away, leaving only the city’s nighttime glow to gently illuminate the room. Chloe turned her head and looked at Joel’s sleeping form. He was exhausted, she realised, and she hated the exasperated tenderness that filled her heart as she watched him. This time tomorrow he’d be back in England, and she’d never see him again. This interlude she’d labelled as precious and life-changing had turned out to be something different.
At last she felt her eyelids growing heavy, and tucked her head into his shoulder, breathing him in. What would the morning bring? She had no idea. Probably a walk to the nearest gendarmerie, a quick snip of the bolt-cutters, and then he’d be gone. Back to his hotel and his idiot friends, who would cheer, and mock, and what would he tell them? Perhaps that he slept the night on a bench somewhere, after being cut free of that stroppy girl they’d attached him to. They’d all have a laugh, then fly home, and soon he’d be in that new house, with his new wife. Cool, pretty, smart Zara. Perhaps he’d grow to love her, in spite of his opinions on love and marriage.
And where will I be? Alone again, that’s where. With not even the memory of a beautiful one-night stand to sustain me.