A Note in the Margin (16 page)

David was unresponsive and simply let himself be held, only vaguely aware of John’s hand moving over his face and through his hair. The warmth of John’s breath against his neck went unnoticed. He barely heard John’s breathless, desperate words. “Please, Dave. I didn’t mean it like that…. I was angry.”

John lifted his face and pressed his forehead against David’s. “Oh God. I can’t stand the thought of someone else touching you, using you like that.”

David didn’t answer.

“Come on, Davey,” he said, trying to calm himself more than anything else. “You’re cold. Let’s get you in a bath.”

With some effort, John managed to get both David and himself to their feet and guided him slowly to the bathroom. John pushed the pile of towels stacked on the chair onto the floor and got David to sit down.

The rolling sickness in his stomach increased as John watched how David simply allowed himself to be maneuvered without any acknowledgment or comment. He was at a loss what to do and considered calling Barbara for help.
Fuck,
he even considered calling Jamie but wanted, needed to be there for David himself. John started the water running and turned back to David.

With shaking hands John crouched and pulled David’s boots off. He kept waiting to be told to stop, that he could manage himself, but it didn’t come. He rolled off the socks he’d bought; David’s feet were cold. “Your feet are like ice, Dave,” John said quietly and rubbed one between his hands. He looked up. David was watching at him, but not really looking. John pulled one of the fallen towels under David’s feet to keep them off the cold tiles and stood up to carefully tug the T-shirt over David’s head before undoing the button of his jeans.

He checked the bath and stilled the taps. “Come on, Dave. I need you to stand up,” John said quietly, watching for a response. When there was none he put his hand on David’s back and with a little pressure repeated the instruction. “Up, Dave, so we can get you into the bath.”

David turned, looked at John, and then wearily stood and stepped into the bath. John sat on the edge of the porcelain lip, not caring that the warm water soaked his trousers. He lifted the flannel and gently wiped it over David’s shoulders.

“It’s going to be okay,” John said, trying to convince himself. “You’re home now. It’ll be all right after a good night’s sleep.” He squeezed the flannel tight and dropped his face into his hand for a moment. It had been a long time since he’d been in a situation that couldn’t be solved with rosters, meetings, and simple hard work.

He straightened, exhaled a deep breath, and stood up.

John calmly removed his clothes and stepped into the bath behind David. He pulled him back against his chest and whispered, “You’ll see. We can do this if you help me,” not caring that the water lapped onto the floor.

The
vague mint of his shampoo and the underlying scent of David were the first things John consciously registered as he drifted toward waking. He slowly became aware of the light press of his skin against the warmth of David’s back; his arm wrapped protectively around him and his nose buried in David’s hair. They’d stayed together in the bath until the water had cooled, John speaking softly at first, David not at all.

John tightened his hold slightly and listened to the gentle snore, the night before still playing through his mind.

David
had fallen asleep as soon as he’d crawled under the security of the quilt despite the light still filtering in through the window. John lay with him for a while before he carefully slid out of bed and padded through to the living room, where he dialed the store number.

“Hello, Margins Bookstore.”

“It’s John. I’m home. David’s here.”

Jamie hesitated. John sounded exhausted. “Is everything okay, John?”

“Yeah,” he said, and then added quietly, “I don’t know. I was angry, Jamie. I reacted badly and said things… called him things I shouldn’t have.”

Jamie frowned, knowing it would just make things worse if he called John on it. He sighed softly and said, “You were upset, John. He’ll understand. David’s a good person. Just talk to him, be honest with him.”

“He’s asleep. I think he….” John’s jaw clenched as he fought through his emotions. “He’s asleep.”

“I’m about to close the store. I can come up if you want. You know, just for a drink or chat…. Yeah?”

John relaxed a little even though he wasn’t going to take Jamie up on his offer. “Thanks, mate, but I’m tired. I think I’ll just get some sleep.”

“Okay. Sleep’s good, John. Mum always said that it gives us a chance to heal,” Jamie soothed. “He’s strong, you know, John. Despite everything….”

He’s
strong, you know, John. Despite everything….
John rested his face carefully against the crook of David’s neck. He knew David wasn’t a child, knew he was a grown man and contained a strength that he doubted existed in many men, including himself, yet he brought out every protective instinct in John. He gently nuzzled the nape of David’s neck, smiling a little when David moaned lightly in his sleep and leaned back into the touch without waking. He kissed the soft skin below David’s ear, lips just brushing the heat of the pulse point, and whispered, “What brought you here, Dave? What brought you to this?”

John’s eyes drifted shut and he just
breathed
David in while contemplating all the questions he wanted to ask.
What was your life like, David? Your wife and job…. What happened? Why did you end up out there on the street? How long did you live like that before Maggie gave you somewhere to feel safe? Safe…. What caused the nightmares? What happened, Dave?
John squeezed his eyes tight; it hurt to think of David out there knowing what could have happened to him.

Taking a shaky breath John gently pulled David’s hair off his face. “You’ve changed me too, you know?” he whispered, wishing he could say these things when David was awake. “I’d never actually stayed the night with anyone before you….” John gave a sad laugh at how fast he usually exited a bedroom. “Now the thought of my bed without you….” He watched his fingers slowly thread through David’s hair. “I don’t think I can go back to my ‘old’ life, Dave. It seems like a world for a different person now. But I need to know, are you still going to be here at the end of my year?”

The seed of fear had started to grow. All the “what ifs” appeared in rapid succession. What if David left again? What if David was really sick?
Stop it, Mac…. Stop it.
John let his arm drop down again and encircled David’s waist, his fingers tickled through the hair on David’s belly comforted by the small murmur David made in his sleep. He pressed himself tightly against David’s back and lie like that, simply listening to David sleep.

It was almost an hour before David began to stir. He didn’t say anything, but the subtle change in body language told John he was awake.

“I’m sorry, David; I shouldn’t have lost it like that,” John said very quietly while he flexed his fingers over David’s warm skin. “It’s just the thought of someone else touching you.”

David winced and a wave of self-loathing threatened to engulf him. What could he say to that? It had been his choice even though he felt like he had no choice at all.

The silence lingered in the room. Both men wanted to speak, but neither felt able to start.

David was tense in John’s embrace and his panic started to rise that David would run again.
Talk to him. Jamie said to talk to him,
John thought, grasping at anything to make this work. His voice was low and soft as he told David how he’d felt, trying not to lay blame, but explained the emptiness and fear when David didn’t come home. The more he spoke the easier the words flowed until John reached what he really needed to say. “I can’t do this without you. Can you let me love you, David? Can you do that?”

The words stopped and absolute terror took over. John could barely breathe. The blood pounded in his ears while he waited for a response. Any response.

David didn’t answer but a gentle shudder shook his body and John realized that even though he made no sound, David had begun to cry. John tightened his hold, moving his arms up around the other man’s chest. He buried his face in David’s neck all the while talking in a hushed panicked tone. “It’s okay, David. We can work something out. Jamie’s been getting you to help…. I guess… I guess I’ve been using you as unpaid labor…. We can work it out so you can stay… we can always work it out.
Oh fuck, Dave,
we can always work it out.”

John knew he was babbling as the tears streamed down his face, but he was afraid to stop until David lifted his hand and reached blindly for him.

It was only when his fingers were tangled tightly in John’s hair that David allowed himself to pour out a lot of the grief and pain he’d held onto.

John knew now to let David cry. He simply held him pressed against his chest until David’s grip loosened and he lay exhausted in John’s arms.

John wiped his hand over his face, for once not embarrassed by the tears still rolling down his cheeks. He clasped David’s hand in his own and rested them lightly on the rumpled sheet in front of David’s chest. “I meant it… before… what I said.”

David closed his eyes and twined his fingers a little tighter through John’s. He desperately wanted to believe him.

“It’s not something I’ve said to many people in my life,” John continued. “Men just
don’t
where I come from. We
love
a pint or our football team, but we don’t say it when it really means something.” David felt John’s chest rise and fall as he sighed. “Actually I’ve had little cause to use it at all. I loved my mam and grandparents… I think I loved my da. But other than that I only ever said it to one person. Jean McMullan.” It surprised John that this was actually leaving his mouth. He
never
talked like this; even as a child he kept things to himself.

Despite the softness of John’s voice, David could feel it rumble lightly in his chest. Its gentle cadence soothed and made him feel safe… at least for a while. When John paused, David opened his eyes just a little and murmured, “Tell me.”

John gave a breathy chuckle and started. “I was barely into my twenties when I finally got the courage to ask Jean McMullan out to the pictures. She worked in the same office and had been the object of my desires, and quite a few wet dreams, for an eternity.” David smiled, but didn’t make a sound in case John stopped. “Anyway… I have no idea what the film was, but the night went well and we ended up an item. I remember a while after I told her how much I loved her, certain that I would spend the rest of my life with this girl. She told me she loved me back, but the next week she broke it off to go out with Mark Lynch. I was devastated and couldn’t understand what I’d done wrong. Then she told me. Mark had a car and money to take her better places than the cheap seats at the local cinema. I left Bradford after that and vowed to change my life. I guess I did in ways I didn’t quite expect.”

David tensed against John and said quietly, “I told my wife I loved her.”

John waited for more, but when there was none he leaned forward, kissed David softly on the neck, and murmured, “Hey, I lied. There was another love in my life. Do you want to know about it?”

David nodded against John, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly.

“I must have been all of seven or maybe eight at the time,” John started, relaxing back into his pillows while his fingers made slow circles on David’s shoulder. “I had just been to the store for my gran and had her old string bag full of tatties; fuck, that bag was heavy. I put it down for a breather and heard a noise. It was tiny little sound that I could barely make out.” David turned over and propped his head on his hand so he could watch John’s face as he drifted back to the little boy. “There was an old flour sack at the edge of the drain. I remember I bent over it to see if I heard the noise again and it moved.” A broad smile lit up John’s face and he laughed. “I nearly shit myself! But in the sack were two kittens. One had already died and the other wasn’t far behind. It was this little black thing, all wet and smelly. It barely had its eyes open, but I know it looked at me and mewed.”

John stopped, rubbed his hand over his mouth, and shook his head. “I struggled home with the bag of potatoes over one arm, the dead kitten in the other and the live one up my jumper. My gran raised hell at the state of my clothes when I got home, but toweled the little one dry and gave it some warm milk while Granddad and I buried the other one on the allotment where he grew the biggest yellow dahlias I’d ever seen. Like giant suns. Sooty lived another sixteen years before he ended up in the allotment. I loved that little cat.”

David lifted his hand to gently caress John’s face. “Still bringing home strays.”

“Only if you stay until we both end up under the yellow dahlias.” John smiled under David’s touch. When David returned the smile John leaned up so their lips could meet briefly before he groaned and said reluctantly, “We’d better get up and go down to the store before Jamie thinks he’s in charge.”

David
closed the bathroom door and turned to look at himself in the mirror. His eyes were still red, he needed to shave, and his hair was a mess. He tried to see what John saw; he easily saw the bedraggled stray, but someone John could love enough to spend the rest of his life with just wasn’t in the reflection.