A Little Bit on the Side (30 page)

‘Not quite, but everyone knows about us of course, and is puzzled that we keep up the arm’s length charade at the group.’

‘Of course they are, and that’s the way I like to keep them: puzzled. They’re all far too interested in other people’s affairs. And you can tell Brandy bloody Woodvine that he can look elsewhere for his Yelena.’

Although Jack hadn’t been back to Barton for some months, he and Jimmy spoke regularly on the phone. He knew that Celia’s father had died, and that changes were in the offing on the hill, so he was not surprised when Celia telephoned him, and asked him to join them over the coming weekend.

‘Come on the Friday and stay overnight. Stay two if you can, and bring Josie with you if she’d like to come. We’ll have Larry staying with us, by the way. A few surprising changes there and elsewhere that we need some time to talk over. I’ve had a word with the Simpsons who bought your old place and they’re quite happy for you to park there and walk over to us whenever you like. Looking forward to seeing you and hopefully to meeting Josie.’

Jack had told Jimmy about Josie shortly after their London weekend together, and he understood that the call came from Celia just to make it absolutely clear to him that she, as well as Jimmy, was very happy to welcome Josie despite her own closeness to Kate, with whom Jack knew she had kept in touch, meeting her from time to time when she passed through London on her visits to her father.

Josie knew the area well by virtue of her profession, and Jack had told her a little about the Gillans and his own years on the hill, but she was surprised when Jack mentioned Gollins Croft in passing on Celia’s invitation.

‘Why I know it Jack. It was the very first time Daddy took me on a valuation with him. Owned by a strange old couple then. Very ancient and romantic, but terribly tumbledown if I remember correctly. The building that is, not the couple, and in other circumstances I’d be interested to meet the Gillans and see what they did with it, but there would always be an elephant in the room wouldn’t there? Not a polite way to refer to Kate, but you know what I mean. No, all in all, I think it would be better if I passed on this one.’

It was almost dark, and late autumn mists were beginning to settle in the valley below when Jack parked on his old drive, gave a wave to the new occupants, and set off over the fields to the Croft. On this occasion there was no hoar frost, and he needed no lantern, but as he made his way across the fields it was impossible for him not to recall that earlier visit with Kate clinging to his arm to avoid stumbling in the rough grass, and the whole of their time on the hill ahead of them.

It was a melancholy thought and it left him uncharacteristically subdued. So much so, that even as Jimmy welcomed him into the passageway he seemed to detect his wistfulness.

‘Are you alright Jack? Nothing wrong is there?’

‘No nothing wrong Jimmy. Everything absolutely fine. Just a few shades of the past lingering on the meadows as I came across. Nothing a good drink won’t put to rights.’

‘Just before we go in,’ said Jimmy. ‘I should mention that our Larry has found himself a partner since he left Barton. Been living together for a couple of years in fact. I’ll leave him to make the introductions though.’

Before Jack could make any response the door was flung open, and Larry came through not just to shake his hand, but to give him a bear-hug and whisper in his ear before they went in.

‘Much saddened to hear how things are with you and Kate. Talk about it later.’

The Croft sitting-room was as welcoming as ever: log-burner glowing brightly, a side-table well charged with bottles and glasses, and the smell of something homely cooking in the kitchen, from where a cry of greeting came from Celia.

‘Out in a minute Jack. Jimmy, give him a drink and top mine up too. This isn’t a bloody temperance house you know.’

‘Can’t think why I always feel so very much at home amongst these publicans and sinners Jack,’ said Larry. ‘But let me introduce you to Robert Tanner, he’s already heard a great deal about you.’

The few seconds that had elapsed since Jack stepped into the room had been long enough for him take in the situation, but not altogether to suppress an air of sur-prise in the glance he gave at Larry.

‘Yes, that’s right,’ was Larry’s only comment as Robert grasped Jack by the hand.

‘Good to meet you Jack. You’ll have to excuse Larry though. He did so want to surprise you. He’s so much like a little boy at times. Needs someone like me to keep an eye on him.’

‘Well I’m absolutely delighted,’ said Jack. ‘I’d always thought that it must have been a lonely life rattling around in that great barn of a vicarage, and did wonder how he would manage when he left, but I can see he’s in good hands.’

‘Dead right I am Jack,’ said Larry, ‘but it’s not something that’s happened recently. We’ve known each other for many years: corresponded a bit, telephoned a lot and had one or two holidays together, so when we’d both retired it seemed only sensible to set up together, and we’re very happy.’

They were interrupted by Celia’s summons to dinner.

‘Come on through now all of you. And Jimmy open two bottles of the red that Larry brought with him. Fetch some fresh glasses too. The best ones I mean. A good wine deserves a good glass.’

Before opening the bottles Jimmy held one up for Jack’s inspection.

‘Larry’s indulging us: Chateauneuf du Pape ‘62. Never tasted it myself, but apparently it’s something special.’

‘Where on earth did you develop such expensive tastes Larry?’ asked Jack. ‘I remember having some at a celebration dinner many years ago: very smooth, rich and fruity, but a bit beyond my pocket then.’

‘Special occasion Jack,’ said Larry. ‘Don’t know any friends with whom I feel more at ease than you, Jimmy and Celia.’

‘Strange company for an erstwhile man of the cloth, but I think I know what you mean.’

Meals at Gollins Croft were taken in a spacious din-ing-kitchen where, at a table large enough for twice their number, the three guests sat under the soft illumination of a couple of hanging oil lamps while Celia and Jimmy busied themselves around them.

‘Main course courtesy of Mr Just-mention-my-name-Davey,’ said Jimmy. ‘You’ll remember him I’m sure Jack. Wonderful evening that. Greatly enjoyed by all eh Larry?’

When by themselves the Gillans lived a quiet life and dined simply, but Celia had not forgotten her Roedean training in the domestic sciences. For several hours prior to Jack’s arrival she had devoted herself to the preparation of a dinner appropriate to what she saw as a special occasion, and over a couple of hours her guests applied themselves to it and the wines with the dedication and appreciation they deserved.

With a slow-roast pork gleaming succulently under a cranberry glaze, the two bottles of Larry’s Cotes du Rhone proved to be an ideal but insufficient accompaniment, and a third bottle would have been opened had Jimmy not suggested that it would be best left for the cheese. For the dessert (Celia’s upper-crust version of the humble bread and butter pudding made with goat’s milk custard and brandy-soaked dried fruit) Jimmy left the room, and returned with a galvanised bucket full of ice containing one bottle which he lifted, dried with a cloth, and placed on the table with some reverence. Its label was faded, hand-written and peeling back from the edges.

‘Apologies for the container,’ he said. ‘Now I’m sure you’ve all heard of the last of the summer wine. Well tonight you can savour it. To the best of my knowledge this is the last unopened bottle of home-brew in Barton from the hands of dear old Ada Sutton. Elderflower 1972, the year before she died. It’s almost eight years old so it might be past its best, but I’ve kept it for a special occasion, and Larry’s return seems to be as good as any.’

They sat in silence as Jimmy drew the cork, and the soft, delicate bouquet of the wine filled the air as he passed with the bottle from glass to glass.

‘Just look at it,’ said Larry, holding his glass up to the mellow light of the lamp above him. ‘For me there’s something about the colour and scent of Elderflower that delivers up summer sunshine and lifts the spirits even in the depth of autumn. It’s newly cut meadows, flowering hedgerows and lazy, golden evenings, and I never thought I’d taste it again: certainly not Ada’s. Sorry you never had the chance to meet her Bob. She was a lovely lady, God bless her.’

‘She was indeed,’ said Jimmy. ‘So here’s to her, and to Ted, and to the many absent friends.’

‘So many changes,’ said Larry after the toast. ‘And yet in my early years here it sometimes seemed to me that the old way of life on Barton Hill was immutable. Silly really when even then I had the burying of so many … But that’s enough of that. Come on now Jack, I’ve already had the Barton news from Jimmy, so fill me in on all the gossip from Barlow.’

They lingered long at the table over cheese, wine, gossip and (contrary to his promise to Celia) Jimmy’s colourful exposition of his opinions concerning the political philosophy and policies of ‘that bitch of a woman and her cohorts.’ But as there was no serious disagreement it proved to be more of a soliloquy, a long one, than a debate.

Finally, however, they moved back to the warmth of the glowing log-burner, and settled down for what was left of the evening, each nursing a generous glass of the local Armagnac.

‘Never ceases to astonish and surprise me, our Mr Gillan,’ said Larry holding up his glass. ‘I enjoyed many a sup of this over the years without ever suspecting its origins. Shortly after we arrived, however, he finally confessed, and gave us an introduction to the operation before you arrived Jack. Very workmanlike and professional. Bob and I were most impressed.’

‘Jimmy’s not the only one springing the surprises though, is he Larry?’ said Jack. ‘You’ve been a bit of a dark horse yourself haven’t you? And over dinner I’ve been thinking back to that sermon you very kindly preached shortly after my arrival in Barton. Your theme, if I remember correctly, was mercy, tolerance and understanding. Were you only thinking then of your local taxman, or perhaps yourself as well?’

‘Well I certainly understood your position as an outsider Jack, not that it compared in any way with mine. I think my bishop suspected, but he was liberal-minded, and said nothing as it presented no ecclesiastical problems for him. As far as the church at large and my Barton congregation was concerned, however, I’d long since learned that being gay meant that I had to be discreet. I could never be sure how people would react to that: you for instance. As for my God, I never had any doubt about his understanding.’

‘Well not much of my youthful, force-fed diet of politics stayed with me Larry, but I can still give you one quote, “Liberty consists in the freedom to do everything which injures no one else.” Article Four, Declaration of the Rights of Man 1789, if I remember aright, and that pretty much represents how I feel.

As for your God Larry, I think that, like yourself, he’s a rather special sort of chap. Might quite take to him myself if the concept meant anything to me at all.’

‘I’m sure he’ll be very reassured to hear that,’ said Larry.

‘Sorry to break in,’ said Celia. ‘But before we all turn in for the night Jimmy and I have something we want to say. First, it’s been lovely to have you all with us this evening, but we have to confess that as well as being a lovely reunion with old friends this is a farewell party. After more than twenty-three years Jimmy and I will soon be leaving the hill … Sorry Jim, I’m going to get a bit tearful so can you take over.’

‘Everyone OK for drinks?’ asked Jimmy after giving her a hug, and they all nodded. ‘Well as Celia said, it’s twenty-three years since we came to the hill: March ‘57 in fact. Tom Sutton only just dead, and despite a bit of modernising, life going on pretty much as it did before the war, almost unchanging, like Larry said. Well that couldn’t last of course, and over recent years we’ve gradually found that those we were closest to have died or sold up and moved on, and to be honest we don’t really take to those who’ve replaced them. I’m getting back problems, and Celia shows signs of the arthritis that crippled her mother — God don’t we sound a pair of old crocks? So much as we love the Croft we think we’ve reached the stage when it would be sensible to move on.

Now you’ll all know that Celia’s father died earlier in the year, and Celia’s been left the house. It’s her childhood home, and she’s very attached to it, which is more than I could ever say for mine. So the upshot is that we’re going to sell the Croft and move south. In fact, subject to the legal shenanigans I can tell you that we have sold.

Sorry I didn’t mention it Jack, but for reasons you’ll understand we didn’t want to use Adams and Oseland so we went to Gowrings. We’d no sooner mentioned the place, than they said they thought they had someone who’d be interested. He came, looked and made us a suitable offer: didn’t even have to advertise. Well that’s about it. Sorry to spring it on you like this, but it’s all been so fast it’s taken our breath away.’

‘An evening of surprises with a vengeance,’ said Jack. ‘And I wish I could say I’m not going to miss you both, but you’re my only real soulmates in the area. It’s going to feel pretty lonely without you.’

‘Oh we’ll still get to see each other Jack,’ said Celia. ‘Plenty of room for visitors in both our houses. Perhaps you’ll be able to make it for Christmas and bring Josie this time.’

Although she included Josie in her invitation, Jack’s comment that he would be lonely without them had set Celia wondering about the precise nature of their relationship. She’d also met with Kate a few times since the separation, and as a result was hoping for a quiet word with Jack before he left.

‘Well I think that calls for a final nightcap before bed,’ said Larry, holding up an empty glass.

Jimmy obliged, but somehow after their announcement the joy seemed to have gone out of the evening, and Jack soon found an opportunity to thank Celia for a handsome dinner, make his excuses and set off for bed. And as he lay in the darkness, still wide awake despite the amount of drink he’d consumed, he wondered why on earth Celia would have suggested that he might bring Josie with him. Hardly the time, place or circumstances for an introduction he thought, but perhaps Celia felt she had to go through the motions and was expecting a refusal.