Westpoint Tales
by Kiwi
Entangled Tales - 52 - Oliver!
Later that night, he was thinking about going to bed when the phone rang beside him.
He glanced at the LCD screen on the call-minder that he'd had installed, then picked up the phone.
"Hello Lucas."
"Hey Superboy. Whatcha doing?"
"Thinking about going to bed."
"Yeah, me too. Is your brother at home?"
"No, he's out courting again. I don't know if he'll be back tonight."
"So you'll be sleeping alone then?"
"Yeah, looks like it. I'm getting used to it, again."
"Justin, would you do me a favour?"
"Yes, of course. What?"
"Would you come and sleep with me? No funny stuff; I just want someone to hold me while I cry myself to sleep."
"I'm on my way - be there in five."
"Thanks. Take care when you're running."
"You can bet on that! See you soon."
He ran across town, to Romney Street and along there to the Sheridan's house. Lucas was standing outside the front door waiting for him.
"Hey Guy. Love the PJ's."
Lucas looked down and grinned at the yellow and white striped pajamas that he was wearing.
"Yeah, well. Come inside Justin. Thanks for coming."
"Not a problem. I don't much like sleeping by myself either."
"Do you want a drink or something?"
"No. Let's just go to bed. How's the foot?"
"It's good. The swelling's about gone. I won't be running for a few days yet. I'm starting to sound like you used to."
They went into the bedroom where Lucas flipped back the covers, and he got into bed. Justin stripped to his underwear by the light of the streetlight outside and started to unroll the extra duvet at the foot of the other bed.
"What are you doing?"
"Just getting the duvet. I need something to cover me."
"No. Don't sleep on top of my covers, it makes it uncomfortable, pinning me down. Come in here with me."
"Are you sure, Lucas?"
"Yes I'm sure. I know you're a gayboy, but you know I'm not, so it's not a problem."
"I know you're not gay, but I'm used to sleeping with Jonathan."
"Jonathan's not gay, is he?"
"Of course not, but when we sleep together we cuddle up like puppies or whatever. You might wake up to find me wrapped around you."
"I don't think I'd mind that at all. Everyone needs cuddles sometimes. Just don't touch the dick, okay?"
"Wouldn't think of it, Lucas."
He slid into bed and promptly cuddled up close. Lucas reached over and hugged him back.
"Thanks, Justin. I still can't believe that Carl's never doming back."
"No, it was a shock happening so quick like that. Better for him though."
"I hope so. I hope he never knew."
"It was fast. You're going to miss him aren't you?"
"Oh Justin, I do!"
He started to cry in the dark, and Justin held him until they both drifted off to sleep.
Marcie woke them in the morning with a breakfast tray. "Good morning, Boys. Thanks for coming around again, Justin."
"Thank you. I needed company too."
The funeral's this afternoon. Are you going to school today?"
"No, not today, Mum. I'll go tomorrow, maybe."
"I've got to go to school. Mrs. Lewis is going to spend the morning teaching us the song. What's the time now?"
"Don't panic. It's only just after seven."
She left them sitting there, eating in bed. Lucas looked at him with a huge grin.
"What? What's so funny?"
"Oh, nothing. Funny how life turns out. It seems ages ago, but it's not so long really, when Mum sent me around to the Adelphi to take the Reynolds' odd little gayboy grandson out for the day, and here you are waking up in my bed. I never thought that was going to happen."
"Yeah, well - I never thought it was going to happen either. I did have hopes for a while there."
"Justin!"
"No, just kidding, I didn't. Did you really think that I was odd?"
"Well you were, weren't you? All hidden away behind those dark glasses and everything. But even on that first day, I could see that you were something special."
"You're pretty special yourself, Lucas."
"Me? No I'm not."
"You are too. You were the first real friend I ever had, and you're one of the nicest people I know. I love you, Lucas."
"I love you too - in a manly sort of way."
"Sure you do. Speaking of manly, what's that big lump in your PJ's?"
"Justin! Shut up. It's perfectly normal, just a morning woodie. I haven't had a pee yet."
"So you say, Sweetie. Are you sure that you're not sending me a message?"
"Justin! Don't even joke about it or you're not ever sleeping with me again."
""You serious? You asked me, remember?"
"Yeah, I did. Thanks Justin."
"My pleasure." He hugged him quickly. "And nice to 'see' you too."
"Shut up Justin."
He got out of bed, dressed and said goodbye as he had to run home to shower and change. Marcie stopped him at the door.
"Thanks again, Justin. You're a good friend."
"If I am, it's only because Lucas taught me. Do you think he'll be all right?"
"I'm sure he will. It will just take time. He's really going to miss Carl though."
"We all will. I'll be here for Lucas anytime. He will always be my first friend and I love him. I hate to see him hurting like this."
"So do I, Justin. So do I." She hugged him and kissed his cheek. "You've come a long way since we first saw you, Superboy."
"I wish I was. 'Bye Mrs. Sheridan."
Jonathan drove him to the school and they joined the choir and Mrs. Lewis in the music room. They were all excused from classes as they were to spend the morning learning the song for the funeral. Neither of the twins knew a word of German, but they listened to a recording and Mrs. Lewis coached them until they were word-perfect, or near enough - German speakers were few and far between in Westpoint.
Justin took the lead and soon picked it up as he was used to copying songs from the radio. Most of his vocal was sung in falsetto, but that was not a problem either. Jonathan struggled a bit, but was soon competent in his secondary role. The rest of the choir were familiar with the song anyway as they'd been learning it, which was why Carl had come to know and love it.
The school was not closed, but Mrs. Lowrie announced that anyone who wished to go was welcome to attend the funeral. A large crowd went as Carl was a well-known and popular student. He would probably have been the head-boy eventually.
Bob did not go, but Kathleen did and she drove the twins, dressed again in their formal black suits and white shirts, around to the church and parked outside. She took a seat with friends and Justin and Jonathan went up the circular wrought-iron staircase at the back to join the choir up in the loft.
Peter Lewis was also up there. He was not singing but he had his recording equipment with him.
Tucked away up there, out of sight of most of the crowded church, Justin cried constantly throughout the service. Jonathan sat with an arm around him and cried along with his grieving brother.
At the end of the service, they stood, pulled themselves together and sang with the voices of angels. Peter was only doing an audio recording and he mentally kicked himself for not bringing a video camera as he watched the twins, standing singing in their soaring voices with tears streaming down their identical faces.
The choir's voices filled the church as the pallbearers and then the congregation filed slowly out of the doors. Nobody knew the words, but the emotion was plain to all.
Billy, walking out of the aisle below, looked up at Justin standing there, face buried in his hands, while Jonathan held him.
At lunchtime at school, next day, Billy came looking for him and he found Justin sitting with Lucas by the water fountain. He stopped in front of him and his shadow fell across his face.
Justin looked at the feet and his gaze travelled slowly up to Billy's face. "Billy?"
He squatted down in front of him. "Hey, Justin."
"Hey."
"Umm - can we talk?" He looked at Lucas who immediately got to his feet.
"See you later, Guys. I'll go and find the girls."
"So? Billy?"
"I came to see you the other day."
"Yeah, I know."
"I really am sorry about Carl. He was a good guy."
"He was the best."
"Yeah. I came to his funeral. You sang beautifully, again. It brought back memories. It must have been hard to do."
"I will never sing at another friend's funeral. I hope I never see another funeral."
"Justin, I have to ask you something. It's about Oliver."
"Oliver? The musical? That'll be cancelled now won't it?"
"It doesn't have to be - not if you'll come back and take Carl's role."
"What? No! You selfish little prick. Just concerned about losing your starring role, aren't you? I've never heard anything so selfish."
"No!" He yelled in his face. "Shut up and listen will you. This was not my idea, they - the cast - they asked me to come and talk to you. They need you. There's no understudy left for the Dodger. If you won't do it then it will be cancelled and months of work by Mrs. Lewis, Mr. Squires and close on eighty students will go down the gurgler. You are the fucking selfish one if you're going to sit back and let that happen. If you don't want to work with me, well fine, I'll stand down. I've got an understudy, Jason McDonald, he can play Oliver if you'll come back and take the Dodger's role and the show can go on."
"Without you?"
"Yes, without me. If that's what you want."
"Well that's different. You're not being selfish, I'm sorry."
"Will you do it then?"
"Yes, I'll do it. The show must go on."
"That's brilliant, thanks." Billy leapt to his feet. "I'll tell Mrs. Lewis. I'll tell McDonald, they'll be delighted."
Justin stood up. "Jason McDonald?"
"Yeah, the understudy for Oliver."
"Billy, I've heard from Mrs. Lewis and Claire and everyone that you are perfect for Oliver. If you can work with me, I can work with you."
"You don't mind if I stay? I'd really like to."
"I only got involved with this show in the first place on the condition that you played Oliver. That hasn't changed. Truce?"
He held out his right hand and Billy grasped it. "Truce. Thanks. I'll tell Mrs. Lewis."
He ran off and Justin stood watching him go. "Consider yourself our mate. At least I'll get to sing with you, Sunny."
He went, with Claire, to the rehearsal after school and Mrs. Lewis thanked him, publicly, for coming back and saving the show.
"I have spoken with Carl's parents this morning, and they have agreed that the show must go on. We are having the programmes reprinted with a photo and a memoriam to Carl on the back. This year's show will be dedicated to the memory of our friend, so it's up to each and every one of you to pull together and we'll make this the best damm show that Westpoint's ever seen.
Now, there's only three days left until our opening night, so let's get to work, people."
What she didn't say was that the school staff and Carl's family agreed that it would be good therapy for the kids to continue working on their show.
The rest of the week was a blur of rehearsals, changes, publicity, (the principals were interviewed live on the radio by Robbie Keenan), and a thousand last-minute details. Stress levels were high and tension was soaring, especially between two of the stars of the show. Justin and Billy were getting on together about as well as fire and ice - ie. Not.
They were both a mess of conflicting emotions. Although they avoided each other as much as possible, they had to act and sing together on the stage and, in the pressure-cooker atmosphere, they were both boiling over and bickering. Snide, sarcastic and hurtful comments were being exchanged and finally, on Friday morning, a full-blown row erupted. They stood on the stage yelling at each other until Mrs. Lewis had had enough and she exploded.
"All right. That's it! Enough! It's over, thanks to you two. I'm pulling the plug. The show is cancelled."
There were a hundred protests from all over the hall, but she was standing firm. She stood, hands on hips, glaring at the two on the stage. Justin, shame-faced, caved in immediately.
Sorry Mrs. Lewis. Please don't cancel."
Billy agreed. "Sorry. You don't have to cancel. Do you want me to stand down?"
"No, I don't want you to stand down. I want you to play the part - properly. We all know that you two have had your differences, but you are supposed to be acting here. Can't you even pretend to be friends?"
Both red-faced, they looked at each other. Billy held out his hand. "Truce?"
Justin took it. "Truce. Sorry, Billy."
"I'm sorry too." They both looked at Mrs. Lewis.
All right then. That's more like it. We'll try again, but I'm warning you both - one more outburst and the show really is cancelled. Now," (clapping her hands), "We'll have the boy's chorus on stage for a subject dear to every teenager's heart. Food, glorious food."
The tension broken, rehearsals carried on. Justin and Billy stood in the wings at the side of the stage.
"Good luck tonight, Billy - break a leg."
"Thanks. Good luck to you to, not that you need it. Try not to break a leg again."
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