The Persistence of Memory
by Rafael Henry
Chapter 22
'Morning Quintus. How are things?' I say, down the telephone line.
'Fine thanks. We've just got the draft Inspectors' report by the way. You get a nice mention in dispatches. You clever cunt. And your bursary has been approved for your Open University IT course. You won't have to work here any more. You can afford to do the course at home all day long and at your pleasure and at your own pace. The world will be your oyster old boy. And don't say no because that's what you're doing. End of.'
Silence ensued. So that's it is it? His master plan to see me out of the place. Fuck off Alex because this place is mine now.
'I'm stunned Quintus.'
'And there's something else. I've been talking to Duncan's parents and they are very keen for this to happen.'
'For what to happen?'
'You will need to time and space for your own career development Alex. You don't need Duncan distracting you like he does, living with you during term time. You can have your own bed back now.'
'What the fuck is going on here?'
'One of the boarding bursaries is going begging as the present holder is leaving School House. His people have moved back to the Truro area from a posting abroad and want him at home now. So Duncan can have it. We're having our usual half yearly dormitory and cube shuffle so he and Charlie Van Hoeven can share one of the Middle School cubes. How's that for a bit of luck then? I told Duncan yesterday about his parents' decision. I told them a boy like Duncan shouldn't be living as he is. He's far too vulnerable. Anything could happen. They agreed that boarding would be far more appropriate for him. End of, again Alex, I'm afraid. Something you just have to accept old boy. Sorry to dump all this on you at no notice. They'll be writing to you to thank you all for your hospitality. You may think I've screwed you over this Alex. Sorry if you think that.'
Fucking, fucking hell.
I put the 'phone down on Quintus. Suddenly and shockingly I had a chunk of devastating news to absorb, best done by laps of the garden, alone and miserable. An hour later Duncan appears back from the park, looking decidedly foxy, giving me the impression that he knew all about his move into School House. I was sitting on the garden seat watching Garth's washing line waving about in the soft Cornish air, a line of white 'smalls' on show, neatly pegged at both ends, and soon to feel an iron run over them before being lovingly folded into neat parcels and replaced on appropriate shelves. Good old nurturing Garth, as gay as a horse, and lovely with it. My father does love him, in his own undemonstrative way, but he should love him better, harder in my opinion. But Garth is happy enough it seems.
Duncan came and sat beside me on the wooden slatted seat, head down. I'm going to start the ball rolling.
'I've been talking to Quintus, as I told you. I didn't get as far as asking if Charlie could have a weekend exeat with us here. He had other matters to deal with. Things he needed to tell me Duncan. Any guesses as to what those things might be?'
I knew instantly by Duncan's face. He already knew.
'Sorry. I meant to talk to you last night. It didn't seem a good moment so I was going to mention it this morning.'
Mention it? His head went further down and he's clearly getting himself upset as he bites his lower lip. The bastard Quintus has done it again. We were lying together on his bed the other day and he said nothing. He knew then. He knew he was about to strike the blow, a dagger through my heart, cold steel right through my body and out the other side as I fall to the floor, bleeding and dying. The bastard.
I watched the boy cry. One of those sobbing events when your whole body goes into uncontrollable spasms of grief at hearing very bad news. Oddly, I suddenly wanted him very badly.
What do you do when someone you love is in distress? You take them in your arms and keep them there. I stroked his back as a comforting gesture but with me and him, it's never just that. At this moment I want him very very badly. I'm becoming aroused and despite the crying, I think he is too. I'll soon know. I kissed him on his cheek. He turns his head towards, my gesture stopping his tears, and I kissed him again, this time on his mouth, something he accepts with enthusiasm as the gap between his knees widens. I'm right, he's reacting the way I want him to. He does that when he's getting interested. He told me. It's a sort of unconscious signal to his partner. Here it is, between my legs. Now play with it please. We're both in an emotional whirl as we separate.
'So when is this to be Duncan? Has he told you yet?'
'Tomorrow afternoon. If you can't take me, he'll come and get me. He said he'd tell you today to get all my things together, all my clothes and so on. My bed will be ready for me when I get there. I'm sharing a cube with Charlie Van Hoeven.'
'Are you excited about that?'
'No, not really. He's ok I suppose. A bit silly though.' Duncan says, letting me go and sitting up straight with his hands held together in his lap clearly hiding the bump. Duncan has always been a quick reactor. I've let him go so we're both staring into the void in more ways than one. I let another minute pass.
'I'm going to miss you here. So is Garth. He's had another baby to look after. He loves it. He'll pack everything up for you; and I'll take you in tomorrow. I'm not having him come here.'
'Will you still bring Robbie and Rosie in with you every morning?'
'Oh yes. That isn't going to change.'
'How can I say thank you Alex?'
'By you just staying you Duncan. We have just as much to be thankful for as you have. I'm going to have to go inside for a few minutes Duncan I'm afraid. You stay here.'
'Why?'
I'm having difficulty holding back my feelings at this point. I know what's going to happen as soon as I close my bedroom door. I shall allow the floodgates to open and let it all out. Duncan knows it too. He has that essential empathy that tells him how I'm feeling and what I usually do about it. Garth taught me how crying is not any kind of weakness, but a strength. When you need to, just let it all out. Go somewhere where you'll not be embarrassed and do it for as long as you need to, or want to, and I've started already. Duncan's looking straight at me. He knows what I have to do.
'I'm coming with you.' He says.
We passed Garth, some ironing on his arm, on the way up to my bedroom. He gave us a concerned look as we passed. He's another knowing person who can instantly empathize with a human situation. I sat first on the edge of my single bed. Duncan joined me, his arm around my shoulder, his head leaning against me. His warmth is like the sun against my naked flesh. I waited a few seconds allowing everything to rise to the surface, and then I let go. It was a strange mixture of a deep sadness and regret, and arousal.
After the flood had washed over us both, the dark clouds passed by, and the first glimmers of light had pieced the gloom, I looked into Duncan's pinkened eyes.
'Oh well, all good things come to an end Duncan.'
'Must they?'
'Umm. In a way. In some ways good things never end. Memory Duncan. No one can take those away, our memories.'
'Me and you?'
'Yes. They persist for ever.'
'I hope so. The persistence of memory then?'
'Yes.' I said, laughing. 'Exactly that. Shall we dance?'
We stood up and we held each other close, in the way we have done many times before, gently touching, and as the band played on, we waltzed a few more minutes away, together.
When I stood at Endellion in the sun's evening glow At Chywoone Hill at Newlyn, to watch the fishing fleets go I watched the sheave wheels at Geevor as they spun around And heard the men singing as they go underground
And no one will move me from this fair land Until the Lord calls me to sit at His hand For this is my Eden and I'm never alone, for this is my Cornwall and this is my home
I've left childish footsteps in the soft Sennen sand Where I chased the boy there, all wriggly and tanned I've stood on the clifftop in a westerly blow I've heard the waves thunder on the rocks far below
And no one will move me from this fair land Until the Lord calls me to sit at his hand For this is my Eden and I'm never alone For this is my Cornwall and this is my home
Fisherman's Friends - Cornwall My Home ft. Imelda May
The story ends. An Afterword will follow.
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