Halloween Happenstance

by Robert Symes

Chapter 3

This story is set in an unidentified English town, mostly now. The cultural references are English so I hope that references to cars, TV shows or music won't spoil the story for those who don't know them. Follow the links provided for more information or just ignore them. (And yes, I know you can use a search engine just as well as I can. The links are for convenience, not to insult anyone.)

The sci-fi/supernatural elements and the criminality are there to make the story work (I hope!) and don't necessarily reflect my own opinions or experience. There is, so far as I can discover, no such place as Appleyard.

It is this author's policy to have no opinions about anything, or at least not to state them. Any opinions you see on these pages are those of the characters or the site owner respectively and I neither endorse nor oppose them.

A New Life

A car was stopping outside the house. Carl looked out the window at the Ford Mondeo as it parked outside. "This is all I want!"

Tom recognised it too. "Isn't that Mark's car?" he asked. "Well at least it's perfect timing. He might have turned up ten minutes ago."

"Yeah, it is. Keep quiet and let me do the talking. There's too much you don't know." As Mark got out of the car Carl went to the front door. "Hello Uncle Mark. What can I do for you? I thought I'd see you tomorrow. Julia not with you?"

"No, she's giving the girls their tea. And what you can do is give me some answers. I'm not having my mum ripped off."

Tom bridled. Before he could say anything Carl said "And you think I will? Well, you'd better come in. I'm not doing this in the street."

Mark was suspicious, angry and belligerent. As soon as they got in the living room he started. "Who the hell is this chancer? Do you know anything about him? He seems to have sprung out of nowhere just at the right time. And now he's what? Staying with you? Convincing Mum he needs money and getting her to ask me for it? Are you two really that gullible? Don't bother asking will you?" he added as Tom lit a cigarette.

Tom's temper got the better of him. "Fuck off! I already asked and I don't need your permission. And I already told you I don't want your bloody money. That was Sue's idea; I can take care of myself. And do you know anything about me? No, you don't, so don't come steaming in here making accusations. Sue already told you to mind your own business, you should take the advice."

Carl thought he'd better separate them before they came to blows. "And I told you to let me do the talking. Uncle Mark's only trying to look out for Gran and you must see how this looks to him. I think you'd better wait in the kitchen while I talk to him. Go on, sweets, it'll be okay, you'll see."

As Tom left the room Mark stared at Carl incredulously. "Sweets? Really? And now I remember Mum said 'if Carl wants to be with Tommy it's their business not yours' didn't she? Is there something you're not telling me?"

"I'm telling you now. I was with Matthew before and Tom now. You don't have to like it but it's the twenty first century so... Unfortunately Tom's dad doesn't seem to know that and he's staying here because he had to leave home in a hurry. And because I want him here. And Gran thought he might need cash to get settled but he doesn't. He wants to stand on his own feet. And he got me a job so thanks for the offer but I shouldn't need help either. And you haven't met him before but Gran's known him most of his life. Ask her tomorrow."

And every word of that was true, if misleading, so even if the truth somehow came out Uncle Mark couldn't accuse him of lying reflected Carl. Now he added "You really insulted Tom, no wonder he's angry. He's not here to rip anyone off, especially not his... friend Sue. And I have to say I'm not thrilled you think I'm that gullible. I'm queer, not stupid."

Mark winced. "Don't say that. I can't get used to that word not being an insult. And I didn't know you were gay, you never told me and you don't act like it so how was I to know? And it doesn't matter if I like it, you're not doing it to me. But you said it yourself: 'Uncle Mark's only trying to look out for Gran and you must see how this looks to him.' If I'm wrong that's good but when Mum tells me to give a complete stranger hundreds or thousands in cash and not ask questions well, what would you think? And what's he going to be doing with this van overnight that you don't need to worry about for this friend he won't name? That sounds very suspect."

"Whatever it is I'm not involved, and neither are you, so we don't need to worry about it. I think he's just trying to survive. Imagine suddenly being homeless and unemployed with no family at his age. You'd do whatever you needed to. Anyway, visiting tomorrow starts at 10:30 and I can't get there until about ten to eleven so talk to Gran if you're worried. She'll vouch for Tom and I'd like to see the con man who can put one over on her !"

Carl saw Mark out and went into the kitchen. Tom looked at him and started singing an old song : "Deputy sheriff said to me, tell me what you come here for boy, you better get your bags and flee, you're in trouble boy and now you're heading into more, it's the same old story, everywhere I go, I get slandered, libelled, I hear words I never heard in the Bible, just tryin' to keep my customers satisfied." In a normal voice he added "Well, did you satisfy Deputy Dickhead?"

"Don't be like that" admonished Carl. "He's your nephew and he's just trying to look out for his mother, your sister. It annoyed me as well but try and see it from his point of view. He's asked to give a complete stranger lots of cash and not ask questions. It does look suspicious, doesn't it?

"I told him we're together as boyfriends, you're here because you had to leave home suddenly and because I want you here, you don't want his money and thanks to you I won't need it either, Gran has known you most of your life and she'll vouch for you if he asks. I don't know if I satisfied him but if I didn't Gran will. If he keeps telling her she's a stupid old woman who's being conned he'll regret it; she's got a temper."

"Interesting" mused Tom. "So that's why you called me 'sweets' is it? Don't do it again I'm not a tube of Smarties. And if I'm the reason you won't need his money does that mean you're taking the job? And you're okay with that situation? Best of all, you want me here. Can I use this address on my documents and stuff?"

"First off, it's Gran's house not mine and she says to look after you so yes, you can use the address. And I do selfishly want you here. Last night was great and so was what you did when we got home, but that's just sex and it was more about need than anything for you I think. But I do like you so you'll do for a housemate anyway. Maybe more. But I hate living alone. And yes I'm taking the job, it would be stupid not to at least try it. I don't like the other stuff but like you said you don't have much choice. Just try not to get into something you can't get out of."

"Don't worry. They won't force me to do anything I don't want. Too much risk I'll set them up with the cops to get out of it. I do four overnight runs to... you don't need to know that, let's just say a northern port city, to earn my new identity. Probably one a week, maybe two sometimes. After that I don't know but I may do more. If I do they said I'll earn more in one night than a lot of people do in a week and it's all cash, no tax. That may come in useful if you have to buy half this house from Mark. Pity I can't access my savings, I had nearly £500 with Nationwide."

"Wow, I got me a sugar daddy" joked Carl. "But there may be a way. £500 then must be over £10,000 now so if it's kept up with inflation you'll be laughing. I think there's some government scheme for lost accounts where you can get it back. When what I don't want to think about happens I might 'find' your bank book in Gran's papers and see what we can do. Where did you get that kind of money at your age?"

Tom shrugged. "Started work in the factory at sixteen. Didn't spend much, and most of that I got other ways. It adds up. Soon as I'm old enough six thousand will buy me a nice little house, that was the plan. Short hours Friday so I worked eight 'til two thirty yesterday... well, you know what I mean, then went looking for punters. Not for the first time either. I'll have to see what's available once I get my new identity. Two days a week isn't enough but it's a start." His stomach growled. "If I haven't starved to death by then of course."

"You hungry? Me too, I generally have mine around this time. There's snacks in that cupboard if you want something now. Then I thought we could go to the supermarket and get stuff we both like. It's just gone half six so if we go now it'll be quiet. Then we'll have some food and see if we can think of anything fun to do with our evening. And I'm going to have to give you a crash course in twenty first century life. This can be lesson one. Try not to faint when you see the prices."

There was a Tesco store less than half a mile away so they walked there. It wasn't just the prices that amazed Tom. The variety of goods on offer was a revelation; he'd never even heard of half this stuff. And the self checkout was like something out of science fiction. Carl used the same plastic card he had on the bus. Didn't anyone use money in this world? "Most young people don't even use debit cards" said Carl. "They use Google Pay on their phones but I don't want those nosy bastards knowing where I shop." Didn't anyone speak English in this world?

They got home and cooked their food in a microwave oven ("everyone has them now") and a deep fat fryer (another revelation) and were in the middle of eating it when the landline phone rang. Carl answered it and came back holding another of those amazing cordless phones. "It's for you. Says he's the Artful Dodger. He sounds pretty good for a hundred and seventy year old fiction."

Tom laughed. "I know who that is. Ron must have given him Sue's number." He took the phone. "Hi there, Art, this is Tom... You don't waste any time, do you?... Yeah, that makes sense... Okay then it's" he recited the address but had to ask Carl the postcode. Then he asked for pen and paper and made notes. "Okay, got all that... Next Saturday, the 8 th ? Hold on." He turned to Carl. "They want us to start work a week today. Is that okay?" Carl nodded, despite lingering doubts. Tom spoke into the phone. "Yeah, we can both do that... On the Sunday? That makes sense, I can sleep after... Of course I can... Yeah? Tell him thanks a lot... Well, maybe see you Monday then... Bye." He passed the phone back to Carl. "That's sorted then."

"What is?"

"Everything, really." Tom looked at his notes. "My name is Michael Thomas Dalton and I go by my middle name so that's really close. I was born on 15 th April 2006 so I'm nineteen and I just moved here from Burnley in Lancashire, where I must never go back to. My updated driving licence and passport will be in the post this week and so will my bank card. I have an account with Barclays Bank and my... logging details, I think, will be sent to my... gee male account whatever that is. I wrote it down but I don't know what it means. We report to Jack at the furniture shop at twelve next Saturday and bring your bank details so they can pay you. I do my first port run on the Sunday and I'm to use an atlas and not bring a mobile, whatever that is. If I don't know I probably haven't got one. I hope you can explain all this to me."

Carl looked over Tom's notes. Then he pointed to his phone. "That's a mobile. As in mobile phone. We'll have to get you one and I'll show you how to use it. But it tracks everywhere it goes and the police can trace it so that's probably why they don't want you to use one. Everything looks pretty straightforward but how the hell can they set all this up?"

Tom shrugged. "I don't know. They just have. Ever heard the saying 'curiosity killed the cat?' Don't be the cat Carl. These people aren't playing and they don't like questions. Just keep your mouth shut, do as you're told and enjoy the money. Which reminds me, if I do a good job what Ron gave me is a gift not a loan but I have to make it last 'cos we won't get paid until 8 th December."

They finished their meal and moved to the living room. Tom opened his cigarette packet, shrugged and threw it in the bin, empty. He retrieved the bag Ron had given him and opened a carton. Once he'd lit up he opened the envelope in the bag and counted £180 in twenties. "That's a fortune to me but I don't know what it'll buy now. I hope it's enough."

"£180 plus two cartons?" Carl was impressed. "That's £300 altogether, a pretty generous gift. Somebody must like you."

"It's Sue that they like. But they will like me. I do what I say I will, when I say I will, and I mind my own business and keep my mouth shut. You need to do the same, seriously. You do your job, you go home, and you don't know nothing 'cos questions are bad for your health. And mine, I've told you too much already. But do you think that money will last? You spent more in Tesco than I earn in a week."

"It won't have to. Mark's got power of attorney over Gran's money because I'm under eighteen but I have access to it and she told me to look after you. We'll be fine. Once they start paying us we can split the bills equally and have enough left to live on. Which reminds me, I've got stuff to do. Do you want to watch a couple more episodes of 'Queer as Folk' while I do?"

Carl left Tom watching TV while he checked his e-mail and socials, dealt with some administrative tasks, and loaded up the washing machine. He reflected that smart-phones, computers, internet and e-mail were things Tom would have to learn from scratch where Carl had never known a world without them. He dug out the paperwork for the car so Gran could sign it over to Tom if she wanted to.

Then he phoned Matthew. It didn't seem right to keep the news from him, or to break it by e-mail. Matt sounded depressed but resigned. "What we had was great, Carl, but it can't work now. I think we both knew it was the end when I moved. It's nice to keep in touch but you don't have to be faithful. I wouldn't if only I could find anyone in this dump! So you go for it with this Tom; you have my blessing if you wanted it. And I'm applying to university in Brighton. If I can't find somebody there I may as well join a monastery."

"A sexy guy like you Mattie?" replied Carl. "You'll be beating the twinks off with a stick! But seriously, I'm glad you're okay with this. It worried me. One day we'll meet up; you, me, Tom and Mr Lucky from Brighton." They chatted for a bit then said goodbye, Carl feeling much more at ease.

Carl went back into the living room with two beers, one of which he gave Tom, and watched until the end of the episode and stopped the player at the end of episode three, where Phil is found dead on the kitchen floor. "And that is why I won't touch drugs" commented Tom. "I don't want stuff like that on my conscience." He looked at Carl. "Are you okay? You look sad."

"I've just been talking to Matthew" Carl replied. "It always reminds me how good we were together, and how much the break-up hurt us. We don't know for sure, and he can't really ask, but we think his parents must have guessed because they suddenly moved to a tiny remote village with three people and three million sheep. Well, not quite, but you get the idea. He can't see me and his chance of meeting anyone else is basically zero.

"I told him about you and he's fine with it. I don't need his blessing because we're not together any more but he offered it anyway and that's nice to hear because I'd hate to bring him any more pain. I hope that doesn't make you jealous?"

"No, not at all. We all have a past and it's nice that you care. I have a couple of Matthews of my own but they'd be pensioners by now." (If they survived the 1980s thought Carl, then he felt bad for thinking it.) "Shall we find a way to take our minds off it?"

"Feeling better now are you?" asked Carl.

"Yes and no" Tom replied. "I've had a nice meal and a couple of beers to relax me. And I've now got a home, a job, an identity and a guide for this strange new world I've landed in so I'm a lot less worried about survival. But it is a strange new world and I'm like a fish out of water. And my family and friends are all gone forever. And seeing Sue like that was awful. To me she's a fifteen year old girl full of life, obsessed with music, clothes, and boys. So I'm lonely, mixed up and insecure. You can help with at least two of those.

"Which reminds me... What you said before, that it's just about need for me? Well, not really, or no more than anyone else. No, that's not true. I mean, we all need sex, right? And we all need to feel a connection. But for me... I'm a 'stranger in a strange land' and everyone I ever cared about is dead or close to it. Can you imagine how that feels?"

"I don't need to imagine it, Tom. I never knew my parents, my uncle lives 200 miles away, my boyfriend is over 100 miles away, taken from me because he loved me. And I'm here on my own because Gran is in that place dying slowly from that evil bastard disease. So maybe I don't get the time travel bit but don't tell me I can't imagine loneliness; I wrote the bloody book."

"Calm down, mate. It's not a contest and I'm not saying anything against you. So you get it. Now imagine waking up in Cape Town or somewhere. The people speak English but it's a different system and you don't know how anything works, or what the apartheid rules are. What I'm trying to say is even then you wouldn't jump into bed with someone just because he's there, would you? You'd have to like and fancy him, yeah? Well it's the same for me. I need to be needed but I want you. Maybe it's that need that made me get extra cash the way I did, now I think of it. I never fancied the punters but it felt good that they wanted me enough to pay for me. But tell me about Matthew, he obviously means a lot to you."

"Matthew was, I mean is , a walking stereotype. And apartheid is history, by the way, South Africa is a democracy now. Anyway Matthew was one of those boys 'everyone knows' is gay. Of course, what 'everyone knows' is usually bullshit and most of them are probably straight if truth were known. But not Matt. He's a bit shorter than you, very thin, very blond hair, almost white, and he wears glasses. Here." Carl tapped on his phone and then turned it to show Tom a picture. "That's Matthew. Isn't he just absolutely bloody gorgeous?"

Tom looked. "Well, you were right. He's not much like me. Pretty enough, I suppose, if that's what you like, but I prefer a bit more meat. You'll do for me."

"Oh. Okay, whatever." Carl sounded a bit hurt. "Well, that is what I like, but not all I like. And he's a bit effeminate, very nervous, can't seem to stand up for himself. The more he gets picked on the more nervous he gets and that gets him picked on even more. School is hell for kids like that and no-one cares. They pretend to but they don't.

"We were in the same year at school so I'd known him since he was eleven but not well, not as friends. Then in Year Ten, when we were fourteen, I walked into the toilets one lunchtime and found this creep Ronan Carter and a couple of his mates pushing him around. Ronan had his glasses and he'd put them in one of the sinks and kept saying he was going to smash them if Matt didn't say filthy stuff about himself, why he hung around toilets, shit like that. And one of his arsehole mates had his phone out to film it. Matt was shaking and trying not to cry but his eyes were wet. I can't stand cruelty and I was in a shitty mood anyway because Gran was having her first cancer scare, the one I told you went away, remember?

"Well, something about the way Matt looked reminded me of the way Gran looked at the hospital getting her tests and I just lost it. Going postal they call it, and I went first class, special delivery. When Carter stopped moving his mates was just stood there looking shocked."

"You killed him?" asked Tom, looking a bit shocked himself.

"Of course not, I'd still be locked up if I'd done that. But every time he tried to get up I just knocked him back down until he decided it was less painful to just stay on the floor. Then I told them any of them can have as much of that as they want whenever they want it but if they report it they'll be in more trouble than me because they started it. They could have ganged up on me but they didn't; too scared I'd go after them one by one maybe. I didn't even think of it until later, too busy losing my temper.

"Then I gave Matt his glasses back and took him to the nurse. I told her he'd fainted and offered to take him home. She looked at his face and I don't think she believed me but she could see he wasn't well and she didn't want to have to deal with it on a busy day so she agreed. That got us the afternoon off school and I brought him back here."

"And that's when Sue caught you?"

"What? Oh, no. No, that was months later. That day I just wanted to get him to somewhere safe where he could recover without anyone asking questions. And I suddenly realised I fancied him like mad but he looked so grateful I didn't want to take advantage. And I'd rather somebody want me for me , not a 'white knight' or something. Same with you now as well. You can stay here as a friend if that's what you want, but if you want more I'm not complaining."

"I do want more, I told you that last night. Why is that so hard for you to believe? But keep going. What happened with Matthew?"

"Oh, well he washed his face while I made us a coffee and then he sat there looking at me like I'm God or something and asked me why I helped him so I said I hate cruelty and suffering and anyway I was in a mood to pick a fight with someone and I never meant to say it aloud but I did. I said 'and because you're fucking gorgeous and I can't believe I never saw it before' and he thought I was joking so maybe I'm not the only one who... Anyway, he laughed and said 'yeah, if only' so I started kissing him and then put his hand on me to prove I liked it.

"And that was all I was going to do, and that only to make him feel better but he wouldn't move his hand. He kept groping me and then he said 'And you're f-ing gorgeous and I did see it before but I thought you were straight. I can't believe this is real but...' and then he stopped and I said 'but what?' and he looked really nervous and then he said 'I want you to fuck me. I've wanted that for a long time but I didn't think I could have it' and I said I'd never done that and he said 'Me neither, but I've read about it and I'm sure we can work it out.' Then he said 'Please, Carl. You say you want me so prove it. I'm so sick of people like Ronan making me feel like a worthless piece of shit. Make me feel wanted.' And he looked so... I dunno, like hopeful, desperate and vulnerable all at the same time that I worried what might happen if he thought I was rejecting him.

"And of course, I didn't want to reject him. I was nervous but I knew I wanted to try it. I don't know what the world record time from here to the pharmacy and back is, but I hold it. And then we went upstairs and it was awkward at first and then it was wonderful. And Matt was crying afterwards and I thought oh my God I've hurt him what have I done but he said 'I'm crying for joy, that was amazing. I'd go through today a dozen times to get to that ending.'

"But he never had to. I started hanging around with Matt at school. Word spread about what happened to Ronan Carter but not from me, his mates must have done it, and most people thought he asked for it. A couple of people asked me why I wanted to be mates with a drippy gay-boy like that and I told them I'll be friends with who I like and if they've got a problem we can discuss it outside. And then everyone left both of us alone. They know I'll stand up for my mates."

"Bit chippy when you're riled aren't you?" observed Tom. "I'll have to be careful not to upset you in case you beat me up. But what happened with Sue? You said Matthew moved away when his parents found out. You don't think Sue told them do you?"

"Gran? No, of course not. I can't imagine her doing something like that. Why would she want to spoil things for me? I don't think she even knew his parents anyway. And I only get 'chippy,' as you call it, when someone hurts the people I care about. Then they can look out.

"And nothing really happened with her. After the first time me and Matt started seeing each other all the time, in whoever's house was empty when we could. It's like I told you, I thought Gran was at work and we bunked off school early, Matt really hated sport and the way he got talked to in the changing room so we just cut it and the teachers turned a blind eye, easier for them. But Gran had swapped a shift and I didn't know so she walked in on us but all she said was be careful. Later on she said I'd always reminded her of you so she wasn't that surprised, and it didn't change anything.

"Matt was always welcome in our house after that but we didn't like to have sex with Gran downstairs, it seemed disrespectful. So we ended up making the same mistake at Matt's house. But that was much later, only about six months ago. I don't remember where his mum was supposed to be but we came downstairs and she was there. He said I'd been helping with his homework and she said 'Yes, so I heard' in a really nasty, sarky tone. Next thing, they're moving to the arse end of nowhere 'because there's too many bad influences round here' his parents said. They wouldn't explain but they meant me. They rented their house from the council so they just got a transfer. And that was it, I haven't seen him since just phone calls and... Sometimes we write. I know he's not happy and that kills me. I hope we don't make it any worse."

"That's sad. But there's not much you can do about it is there?"

"Except be here. As a friend. On the phone, encouraging him to stick it out. As a refuge, if he gets desperate enough to do something crazy. People do, you know, if they can't see an alternative. I'm the alternative. If he gets desperate he can turn up here any time and stay as long as he likes. If he can't get here he's to call me and I'll get him here somehow even if I have to steal Gran's car and drive it illegally. You being here doesn't change that."

"I wouldn't want it to. You're one of the good guys and I'd like to meet this boy someday if he's made you feel that way. But it's getting late. Time for one last drink and a smoke and then we should think about bed. Do you want to do the same as last night or something different? Swap roles perhaps if it helps you understand I want it and I'm not doing you a favour. It's up to you."

"Sorry, Tom, I do understand that really. I'm just maybe a bit insecure and it makes me nervous if I'm helping someone and having sex with them, whether that's you or Matt. I just want to be sure they're doing it for the right reasons.

"And I'd love to do the same as last night if you're happy with that. But when it comes to swapping roles I'm a virgin that way. Matt loved me screwing him, and I loved doing it. But for some reason he never wanted to do it to me, said it 'felt wrong' somehow but he would try it if I wanted. And I've always been a bit afraid of that, I think it can really hurt, so we never did it. Hold on."

Carl went to the kitchen and came back with two cans. "This is the last of the beer. I can get more tomorrow if you want it but I usually only have it at weekends. I want a clear head for college."

Tom opened his beer and lit a cigarette. "No, that's fine, I'm about the same. If you've ever tried doing factory work with a hangover... Well, it's not fun, put it that way. I tried it once. Got ratted Friday night, four hours overtime Saturday morning. Thank God it was four hours not eight. Never again. And next weekend we need to be fit and sober by twelve so let's not go mad.

"And you really should try the other way. It shouldn't hurt much if you're with someone who knows what he's doing. Maybe a bit at first but after that it feels great. You won't know unless you try. But probably not tonight; it's been a stressful day and we're tired. A repeat of last night is just what I need, and no, that's not sarcasm.

"But while we finish our drinks... Your Matthew and his parents reminds me of a 'Matthew' of my own."

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