On My Knees (3 page)

I followed Attila up a spiral staircase wide enough for two. My eyes gorged on the high, beamed ceiling and the cat’s cradle of cables and halogen lights. A bed, big enough to hold a party in, lay in the middle of the room under a skylight and faced a full-length window that looked out over the tops of the trees. The bed head was formed by a low wall behind which, at some distance, stood a row of doors. Attila was rattling around in one of these concealed wardrobes.

“Here,” he said, throwing a black bathrobe onto the bed. “You can wear this while I try to clean up your suit.”

I looked at the robe, not entirely sure what to do.

“Well get on with it. Get out of those clothes and come here.” He opened another of the doors and vanished out of sight.

As I tugged at my tie and hopped around the room trying to rid myself of my trousers, the sound of rushing water came from the adjacent room. My hands hovered over the robe but, despite my modesty, it seemed stupid and ungrateful to risk contaminating it. I would leave it for when I was clean. I took a deep breath and followed the sounds of the bathroom.

The shower was almost as big as my entire bathroom back at home—all enclosed with clear glass, supported by the most discreet chrome fittings. Water raced out in every direction from the ceiling and walls, like an explosion in a waterworks.

“Have a good scrub up. When you’re done just turn that big knob on the wall.” With that, Attila shut me in the glass box.

The water cascaded down the inside of the compartment, but I could make him out as he busied himself about the bathroom. He removed his clothes and dropped them into something by the door. His body was so well toned. That’s how I was going to look after six months of working out. I pinched at my stomach, flabby with years of neglect. I wondered what a six-pack felt like and wished I could reach out and run my hand over Attila’s.

He bent over the basin and started brushing his teeth, his buttocks pointing towards me like two perfect bubbles pressed together. Had mine ever looked like that? My fingers traced his outline in the steam.

“Use the shower gel,” he said, drying his face on a towel. “There’s plenty. Get that filth off.” He barked the words like a sergeant major and left me alone.

When I turned to reach for the bottle of Paco Rabanne gel, I felt the telltale signs of an erection, that familiar and gentle solidification, and was surprised to find my cock at half-mast. I covered myself in the luxurious foam, scrubbing at my face and delving into the crevices around my nose and ears, concentrating on the cleaning job. I massaged my scalp with my fingers and worked the shampoo into every strand of hair.

As the steaming water washed away the bubbles, I bowed my head so that the full force of the shower beat against the back of my neck. The creamy torrent gushed along the channel in the floor like a white gash against the dark tiles, and gurgled down the drain, taking with it the last remnants of the day. Yet, it seemed to me at that moment, that this shower was a kind of rite of passage, cleansing me of years of unhelpful clutter. I felt happy for the first time in ages, and when I turned off the faucet, I knew, deep down and almost subconsciously, that my life would never be the same again. I was ready to let anything happen.

* * *

As I emerged from the bathroom to claim the robe, Attila returned with my clothes on a hanger.

“I’ve cleaned them up as best I can, but you’ll need to get the suit to the cleaner’s tomorrow.”

“Today.” It was by now half-past one in the morning.

“You’re right. Jesus, I need to get some sleep. I have a meeting first thing in the morning.” He hung my clothes on the back of the door and sat on the bed. “What are you going to do?”

“I suppose I’d better be on my way. Look, thanks for - well, you know.” I shrugged my shoulders and felt my cheeks flush.

“Mark, don’t take this the wrong way, but if you prefer to sleep here it’s fine. As you see, there’s bags of room in the bed. I’ll just need you out on the dot in the morning.”

I didn’t need to think. To leave this peace behind and face Diana was something I would have to do eventually, but it could be postponed. “If you’re sure.”

“It’s fine, but—how can I put this - I need you to promise that you won’t say anything to your wife about me. I don’t want to get dragged into your situation.” He lay back against the pillows and swung his legs onto the bed.

“I won’t say anything, don’t worry.” I walked round to the other side of the bed, removed my robe, and slipped under the duvet. “But, I don’t see the problem. How could you get dragged in?”

Attila shed his robe and pulled the duvet over himself, then turned onto his side so that he was facing me. Despite the distance between us, I felt an electric charge surge from him across the bed. My skin tingled and the top of my head felt like it was going to explode.

“It’s too easy to get blamed for breaking up a marriage. I don’t want that, neither the blame nor the responsibility.”

I turned towards him. “What are you talking about? I don’t see how you could be.”

“Mark, I’m not daft. I know you’re attracted to me—”

“Oh, come off it.” I sat up, shaking my head. Why was I denying it? I knew it was true. Admitting it would not be easy, but the time had come to stop living a lie. I was terrified of taking the step, though take it I must.

“You sure? One hundred percent sure?” He looked at me as if expecting an answer—that turned up corner of the mouth and arched eyebrow—but went on without waiting for it. “I fancied you as soon as I saw you in the gym. You’re a very handsome man—”

I laughed. “You must be blind.”

“You are.” His eyes softened.

“Diana says I’m big, fat, and ugly.”

“She’s a fool, then.” He propped himself on an elbow. “When I saw you I felt something stir in me for the first time since I came back from the States. The thing is, the signals you gave out convinced me you were gay too.”

I was unable to catch my breath. An iceberg slammed into me and exploded, showering my mind with shards of cold, distant memories, things felt but unseen. Or, at least, I had thought unseen. I cleared my throat. “I’ve never thought about being gay. It was never an option, not really.”

“How do you mean?”

“My parents are very narrow-minded. Bigoted. I grew up in the north, a small town, where—remember I’m talking about the sixties - things like homosexuality just weren’t discussed. My life was planned for me. But…”

My mind wandered, raking over the past yet again in search of clues.

“But?” Attila was now sitting cross-legged, the duvet drooping between his knees. His broad shoulders looked strong enough to carry two. His left eyebrow crouched over his eye and he leaned towards me.

“Oh, nothing really. I was just thinking, even at primary school some of the kids used to call me ‘puff’. I didn’t even know what it meant.”

“I’m sorry.” He leaned forwards and reached out to me, resting his fingers on my arm. “It must have been rough. And I went rushing in like a commando.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. I mean, it’s a bit of a surprise, but it does make sense.”

“How do you mean?”

“You know, the way you see yourself is not the way others see you.” I lay back and put my hands under my head, staring at the skylight to avoid looking him in the eyes. “I’ve been living a straight life, believing—I mean really believing—that it was what I wanted, but also convincing myself that people saw me as I wanted to be seen. And now, you telling me that I gave off signals to you, that makes me wonder what exactly others have been picking up all these years.” The inside of my head was all messed up.

“It would seem logical, I agree. Has no one ever said anything, hinted at anything?”

“Nope. Not a soul. And”—I turned onto my elbow to look at him now— “what I don’t get is that Diana hasn’t suspected anything.”

“Have you given her cause to?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you keep her happy? In bed?”

“Bah! I don’t think she’d mind if we never had sex.” I turned the subject over in my mind. “The sex is adequate. I don’t have any problems keeping it up with her, if that’s what you’re getting at. But, if you felt my signals—”

“Don’t forget, I know what to look for.” He shuffled closer. “Have you had any gay experiences, ever?”

“None. Plenty of girlfriends, though.” I laughed and sat up to face him. “I once got a hard on in the school showers when I caught the games teacher wanking.”

“Did you? I mean, was he?”

“Yeah. He thought no one could see him. The teachers had their own shower but the door was open. His cock looked so big I couldn’t take my eyes off it, white as a candle with a crimson head.”

“Did he see you?”

“No, thank God. I’d have died of embarrassment. I often think about it, though, because he left teaching to become a priest.” I laughed and Attila joined in.

“I’d say, if that gave you a hard on, you ought to have known.”

“Maybe. But I’ve told you, it just wasn’t…real. I never even understood what it was all about, gay, homo, whatever you want to call it.” I rummaged through my head again, then looked Attila in the eyes. They had narrowed. I could see that he cared, that he felt my pain. “Thank you.”

His eyebrows arched upwards. “For what?”

“If I hadn’t bumped into you tonight…”

“Now, hang on.” He swung round and got out of the bed, giving me another view of that firm arse as he walked over to a cabinet on the far side of the room. “I came after you and it was a mistake.” He returned with two tumblers of amber liquid and gave one to me. He was certainly not lacking in self-confidence, standing there with his cock and balls in full view. I wanted to reach out and touch them and I felt myself getting hard.

The whisky burned its way down and I coughed. “More alcohol? I thought you brought me here to sober up?”

“You’re sober. This will help you sleep and make sure you don’t have a hangover in the morning.” He drained his glass, set it on the bedside table, and climbed under the duvet again.

“Why do you say it was a mistake?” I contemplated the contents of my glass and felt a melancholy brewing.

“Because you’re not sure. I thought you were. That’s a big mistake if ever I knew one.” He lay on his back with his hands under his head, staring at the ceiling.

I finished my whisky in one gulp and shuffled closer to him. I lay down on my side so that my face was near his armpit. The faint smell of his skin made the root of my cock tingle. “I dunno,” I said, my hand hovering over his chest. “I can feel something and it’s good.” I propped myself on my left elbow and traced his abdominal muscles with the fingers of my right hand. They were smooth as silk yet firm, like river stones toned by the gentle flow of water. “How will I know if I don’t try?”

Attila didn’t move as my fingers walked down the faint avenue of hair that ran from his navel under the cover of the duvet. When my hand found his cock, it was already swelling and it twitched against my little finger. He closed his eyes and I threw back the duvet to get a clear view. He was hard and I encircled his shaft with my hand. I felt another surge of excitement when the tips of my fingers and thumb failed to meet around the shaft. I shuffled down the bed to get a closer look and gently peeled his foreskin back to reveal a pristine pink head. I stroked it, my touch as light as feathers, and felt my desire burn like a furnace. When a pearl of milky fluid appeared at the summit, I opened my mouth and took him in.

Attila flinched, then took my head in his hands and lifted me off. “No,” he said. “Stop.” He pushed me to one side and sat up on the edge of the bed with his back to me. “I’m sorry. I just can’t get involved with a married man.”

* * *

I didn’t sleep at all that night. I lay in the dark listening to his noises as he drifted off. Against the light from his alarm clock, I watched his chest rise and fall until his breaths were so gentle there was barely a movement. The sight of his muscular body stirred me like no woman’s had ever done. It felt so right. So comfortable. Safe. Already I knew that I wanted him, and I would do whatever it took to get him.

The early morning was fresh with a gentle breeze. The walk from Attila’s flat back to my car on the other side of Belsize Park blew away all remaining cobwebs. Despite the lack of sleep, I buzzed with excitement and couldn’t wait to tackle the day. I felt his business card in my pocket and rubbed it between my fingers. That little piece of card represented hope. Why would he have given it to me if he didn’t want to see me again?

I switched on my cell phone. How many times would Diana have tried to get me? There was a call from Alex at 22.32 the night before. He’d left a voice message, but was very drunk and his words were inaudible against the background din. It was the only one. Diana hadn’t even tried to reach me. The initial relief gave way to concern. She always pestered me after a row, and despite the lack of love between us, I worried that she may have done something foolish. I jumped into the car and headed towards home.

As I approached the flat, I was relieved that the place was still standing. I’d had visions of a burned out shell with blue and white police tape strung across the pavement. I swung the car into the gap where I’d been parked the evening before and took a deep breath as I strode towards our door. The books she’d hurled at me lay at the foot of the stairs, their covers open to reveal bent and torn pages. At least she hadn’t taken the knife to herself; I could hear her crashing around in the kitchen.

A mug hissed past my head and smashed into the wall behind me as I got halfway up the stairs. I automatically turned to look and saw brown liquid trickle down the wall. I heard Diana’s footsteps on the tiled floor and made my way to the top of the stairs before she had chance to rearm.

“We need to talk,” I said, venturing into the kitchen.

“Get out.” She didn’t even turn to look at me. She leaned on the counter, staring out of the window. “Just get out and don’t come back.”

“You don’t mean that.”

She’d said it a hundred times in the past. I wondered, looking at the crumpled back of her blue and white print frock, if she’d ever find anyone else if I left.

“Don’t you tell me what I mean. Don’t you dare to tell me anything.” She turned towards me, her hands trembling.

“I’m going to get changed.” I headed for the door and made my way to the stair. She was behind me when I reached the first step, her fists pounding into my back.

“You bastard. Where have you been all night? I’ve been out of my mind.” She began to sob and the beating stopped.

“Don’t come that.” It was my turn to be angry. I turned to her and jabbed the air with a finger. “You never even called.”

She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and sniffed. “Who is she?”

“Come again?”

“The woman you’re seeing. Don’t think I don’t know. I’m not stupid, Mark. Who is she?”

I hadn’t expected that. Perhaps this wasn’t the right time, after all. “There is no other woman,” I said. “I can assure you of that.”

* * *

There were two messages on the answering machine, both from my bank manager imploring me, as he frequently did, to call him urgently. It was suddenly as if I’d been visited by Hermes during the night; the events of the last ten hours had opened my eyes and filled me with excitement, but now I realized that I still had a sack full of problems to deal with.

On the fax machine lay a note from a client advising me that they had no intention of paying my final invoice, and providing me with the name and address of their lawyers should I wish to take the matter further. The morning’s mail brought the usual assortment of bills, reminders, and final demands, all of which I could identify and quantify without opening the envelopes. I threw them onto the desk and went to the kitchenette at the back of the office. I switched on the coffee machine and took out the half bottle of whisky I kept in the cupboard. When the office door opened, I was relieved to hear Alex’s unmistakable huffing and puffing.

“Coffee?” I asked, holding my mug aloft.

“Without a doubt,” he said, hanging his coat on the stand by the door. He wore his usual Camel jacket with a checked shirt and mustard wool tie. The cuffs of his gray trousers pooled on top of his scuffed, brown brogues.

“Standard or special?”

“Oh, I think a special is mandatory, don’t you?” He swept his hair back off his forehead.

I sloshed some Scotch into a mug of coffee and handed it to him. “Come and sit down. I need your advice.”

“What’s up?” He took a sip from the mug. “Another row?”

“I don’t quite know where to start. Are you feeling robust?”

“Crikey! Don’t know about robust, but going bust, certainly.” He laughed and I managed a smile.

My hand shook, sending waves across the surface of my coffee as I lifted the mug to my lips.

“What is it? You OK?” For all his faults, Alex was a shrewd as a fox.

“I’m leaving Diana.”

Alex sagged in his chair. “Well, I don’t suppose that’s a bad thing. I mean, I’m sorry it’s turned out like this, if you know what I mean, but you two are always at loggerheads. I’ve seen it coming.”

“It’s not so simple, Alex.” I gazed into my empty mug, hoping to find courage.

“Well, no. It won’t be. I mean, it never is. Things to sort out.” He took another sip of his fortified coffee. “When Eve and I divorced it was a nightmare. At least you don’t have kids, that’s a blessing in disguise, I suppose.”

I shoved my chair backwards and went to the kitchenette for a refill, this time leaving the coffee out and adding extra whisky. I swallowed down a mouthful and turned to Alex, leaning on the door jamb. “Yes, I guess you’re right. But I mean this is really not simple—”

“Of course it isn’t.” He leaped to his feet and patted me on the shoulder. “I’m supposing she’s going to want to get her hands on some of the business?” He didn’t wait for a reply. “We didn’t have that, you see. We both had jobs so there wasn’t the complication. Just the house. Oh, crikey! What are you going to do about the house?”

“She can have it.”

“Ah, well, that’s what I did. I didn’t want the kids to be without their home.” He shook his head. “In your position, though, I wouldn’t be too hasty.”

“It’s my fault, Alex. She can have the house, and the car, and the insurance policies.” I paced up and down, counting off what few assets I could bring to mind.

“Steady on. It’s no more your fault than hers. It’s never totally one sided when a relationship breaks down. I mean, I think I can say that I know her pretty well and she’s not—and I mean no offense—but she’s not an easy person to get along with. Is she?” He looked directly at me, his eyes seeking confirmation of his summary.

“No, she’s not. But aside from that, I’m going to have to take the flack for this.”

Alex stood back, realization dawning on his face. “Oh, crikey. Who is she? Do I know her?”

“I doubt it very much.” I poured more whisky into his mug then drained the remainder into mine.

“So it
is
another woman. That was my downfall, as you know. I just don’t seem to be able to stick to one. Always jumping in and out of bed with anything on a pair of long legs. Not that I’ve had many offers recently. Well, not except Jane - you remember her, don’t you? The amputee.” A grin spread across his face. “The things she used to ask me to do to her. Do you know—”

“Alex, please. Stop blabbering and listen to me.” I raised my voice for the first time.

“Oh, sorry. There I go again. Always full of my own stories.”

I put my mug down and kneaded my hands. I could feel my pulse throbbing against the top of my skull.

“It’s not a woman, it’s a man. I’ve fallen in love with a man.” I heard my voice waver and my lips were suddenly full of Novocain.

Alex’s knees crumpled and, as he fell back into his chair, his face went as colorless as his faded camel jacket. “Crikey!”