Chapter 17
Noah
Irang him again in the evening, when I was finally tucked up in bed. T-shirt on. Boxers clean. Not that it mattered. I also had a…printout of the daily flights from Gatwick to Glasgow.
Because I was, also, an idiot. It wasn’t just him, and he kept saying he was one too. I had a sneaky feeling the two of us were just as stupid as the other. That in itself was soothing.
“Sorry,” he said into the receiver. “I shouldn’t have pulled that all on you earlier. I was just… It hit a nerve?”
“I can see that, and don’t ever apologise. You can always tell me things.”
“You being a doctor and all that. Do I still get patient privileges?”
“Who would I tell, Fox? My only friend is my neighbour next door, she’s ninety-four and refuses to wear her hearing aids. It’s not like we have meaningful conversations.”
That made him laugh.
“Not that I have any secrets,” he said calmly. “I think you know them all.”
“I probably don’t either, but I like that you think I do,” I mused, a smile now permanently etched on my face.
“It all got a bit much. I haven’t had much time to process everything. Last week…it was traumatic. I’m still fuming about everyone just letting things happen and nobody standing up for… Crap. I don’t even know what was said, and it still makes me mad.”
“You need better friends,” I said quietly.
I was one to speak because I didn’t have any friends.
Apart from the elderly neighbour who waved at me when I came and went, and the postman on a Saturday, and everyone at work seemed to assume my life was filled to the brim, making me too busy to engage with them outside practice hours. Which suited me fine.
“I have my colleagues,” he said quietly. “They are great, really, they are. I have all my boys, which gives me enough interaction to make me sleep far too well at night. Sometimes I remember I have a hundred kids to look after, and it can be a bit tough on the old brain cells.”
“Do you remember all their names?”
“I do, actually. I make a point to get to know everyone. I have individual meetings monthly, and spend time with all the classes.” He let out a sigh, the line going quiet. “Sorry. I shouldn’t bore you with work stuff.”
“I don’t mind, I told you.” I didn’t. Not at all. Just sat here with his voice in my ear was more than I’d dared to ask for. “Why did you end up at boarding school? You said something earlier?”
“Army kid. My parents got divorced, my mum got a new life, and I was this annoying kid who was attention seeking and getting himself into fights at school and Mum just decided to ship me off to get some peace and quiet. Well, that’s what she told eight-year-old me.
Not the thing you want to hear when you’re a kid, is it?
I hated it. The trauma was real, Noah. You don’t do that to a kid, and you bloody don’t tell them it’s their fault. ”
“I agree.” Again, I was kicking myself for being here and not where he was, because right now I just wanted him against my chest, my fingers in his hair, and I didn’t give a flying monkey’s about anything else. My response to him was a little more restrained, but he still laughed.
“I’m still traumatised. But I have all these kids here whom I make a promise to every year.
I tell them they are not alone, and that they have a solid team of teachers and staff here who will always listen.
Never judge. And I tell them that they are safe here.
I make a lot of promises, and sometimes I’m scared that I promise too much.
But I’d rather do that than tell anyone that they’re an annoyance. ”
“I hope one day you’ll take me there. Show me where you work.”
“I’d like that.”
“Where did you grow up then?” I asked, and he went quiet.
“You don’t have to tell me,” I stuttered out. Perhaps I’d asked the wrong thing.
“I grew up…” More silence. “Here.”
“In Scotland?”
“No… It’s embarrassing.”
“Nothing is embarrassing, Fox. It’s just me.”
“I’ve left that part behind. Honestly, Noah, it’s not important to me anymore.
I went to school here… Then I left for uni and then?
I ended up coming back. And it’s stupid, but you know, I preach to all the kids here that there’s a big, wide world out there to explore, and that they have great futures awaiting them away from this place.
They said the same to me, and I was just a kid and I was really unhappy here.
For years, I hated this place. I suffered and I cried, and I still came back.
I didn’t go out and explore anything, Noah.
I just…came home. Because it felt safe. And I had this stupid idea of making this a better place, better for the boys, and better than the way I had it when I went here.
It’s taken a while and… I don’t even know if I am making a damn bit of difference. ”
“I’m sure you are,” I said. The wobble in his voice was concerning. I wanted to be there with him. I wanted to hug him.
“No wonder people make fun of me. The guy who… I don’t know. ”
“You’re amazing. I looked up Kilmartin online earlier. It looks beautiful.”
“It looks better on the website. In reality it’s cold and damp.”
“You’re there. That’s all I care about.”
“Well.” His little giggles were the cutest thing. It was so him. A grown man, and I was calling him cute. I shook my head, but then I couldn’t help giggle too.
“What?” he said.
“Just… I mean.” Deep breath. “If I came up to see you sometime?”
“Anytime.”
“You live at the school.”
“Yes.”
“I…googled.”
“Of course you did.”
“There’s a local, down the road, The Kilmartin Hotel? They do rooms.”
“You want to stay at the hotel?”
“Well, it’s not appropriate for you to have…guests, I assume?”
“You assume a lot, Mr Fairweather.”
“Dr Fairweather, actually.” I smiled. I bet he did too.
“Book it. Let me know when you’re coming?”
“I’ll come as soon as I get you naked.”
“Noah.”
“Fox.”
I didn’t quite understand who I’d become.
I never spoke like this. Ever. But with him?
It was just so easy. A comfortable silliness that I hadn’t realised had been missing from my life.
And suddenly I was excited. There was something in my future that again would disrupt all my little routines…
but in a good way. I couldn’t wait. And it was almost an hour later, a conversation full of small chit-chat, that he hung up on me.
This was getting ridiculous, all this smiling. But fuck, I loved it.
Work became a mundane chore compared to coming home in the evening, rushing through dinner and laundry and everything else, hoping he’d ring early. My phone was now my constant companion.
A week later, I sent him a text in the middle of the day.
An hour later? I had five back. He installed WhatsApp, and I could have cried seeing his face on my screen that evening.
Our texting became constant; the screen on my phone that had always remained my blank comfort was now lighting up my life.
It was a childish joy, but a joy it was, and even my mother, her usual subdued, calm self, squealed when I finally admitted that yes, I was in contact with Fox, and absolutely yes, I was seeing him again.
I didn’t tell her when, though, because some things, I simply wanted to keep to myself. Less expectations and hoo-ha and no. I wasn’t scared. I was terrified of seeing him again, despite knowing full well that I was being silly just thinking that.
Maybe things would be fine, and I would be there and he would jump into my arms and things would be like we’d never left that hotel room on the beach. But I suspected my anxiety would play up, and I would behave like a fool and things would be awkward.
I told him that in a rambling text at midnight when my head just wouldn’t shut down.
Just hug me, he replied, and I wasn’t proud of the tears that formed in my eyes. For heaven’s sake.
I still hadn’t booked that ticket. Not sorted that room.
Neither of us had mentioned it, and the small fact that I was jerking off at night after he’d hung up on me?
Oh gosh. I was far too old for all of this, and I had no idea what I was doing.
Was I supposed to not…jerk off? Like? Fuck.
I wanted to. All the time, and that was more problematic than the fact that I found myself scrolling, clicking on the goddamn link that my parents had so kindly provided.
Friday. I could fly up in the evening, and be at his…what? Around nine at night? Would… Yes. He usually rang late, he could definitely pop down…and I could…
I wanted to. Fuck, I wanted to. All of it.
Booking my flight. Is Friday good? You busy?
I was once again terrified of his response, or maybe his lack of. He was busy; term had started, his texts had been short and frantic this week, and all I wanted to do was further add to his stress.
Yes.
That’s all he replied. Like I would understand all that those small letters meant. I hoped I did, pressing the confirm button on the page. The familiar ping on my phone indicating the confirmation landing in my inbox.
I was almost paralysed with nerves. Terrified of everything I wanted and knowing…I would have to bring it up. Talk about it. Admit how ridiculous I was, but…
There was an abundance of Google searches in my history that I hadn’t told him about. Also? I’d sent an email to the head of the local surgery, just an introduction and a broad query with regard to openings in the area. Perhaps not the done thing, but I was…and always would be…
Desperate. For everything this could be. Even if it perhaps wasn’t.
We didn’t even mention it over the next couple of days. Made no plans, almost like it wasn’t happening. Perhaps he was as frightened as I was, and the only thing that calmed me was that I was reading him as such.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I told him the night before, in passing, as we said good night.