Rainbow Connection (12 page)

“At least she’s confirmed you’re her son, but she says she doesn’t want to see you, not if you’re still gay. I tried to reason with her. I’m sorry, I didn’t think people like that existed anymore. It must have been tough for you having her as a mum and then losing Alfie.” Mick nodded.

Ceri reached out a hand. “Hi, I’m Ceri, his boyfriend. She shook it and turned back to Mick. “I explained Alfie had died a while back, and she seemed surprised, but she did say that as long as you were gay, well, she didn’t use those exact words…”

“No, she wouldn’t,” Mick interjected.

The nurse took the seat next to him. “She didn’t want to see you.” Mick nodded again, unsure of what to say.

“Look, she’s going back to the hospice tomorrow. We’ve done some x-rays and strapped up her arm. We need to keep her here just in case she has concussion. The hospice will make her as comfortable as possible. Perhaps you should try visiting her there. She might change her mind.”

“You could do that,” Ceri said.

Mick nodded. “Perhaps. If she’s had time to think, she might see me. It’s probably best if we go now. I need to ring Phil and ask if there’s anything I can do before Sally brings the baby home. Death and new life—it keeps going around, doesn’t it?”

§ § §

Back in the car park, Ceri pulled out a spare jacket and helmet from the box on the back of his bike. “Back to Sally’s then?” he asked.

Mick shrugged and leaned into him. Ceri patted his back gently. “I wonder what happened to Mum’s stuff and the house. It’s been in the family for years. Mum’s lived there all her life. She was born there, and I think her mum was as well. I didn’t know my grandmother, she died when I was quite small.”

“Where is it? We could swing by there now if you want.” Mick gave him the address. It was slightly out of their way, but a little while later, they stood outside the boarded up property. It was a large, terraced house on three levels. It looked rather run down, and the paintwork needed attention, but an estate agent would say it had potential. There was a small front garden. They removed their helmets and sat on the low front wall.

“It looks so sad,” Mick said gazing at the weeds that now filled the spaces between the paving stones. “We should go. I’m not sure I can stand to look at it. She once caught Sally sitting here with me and shouted at her to get away. She used to call her
that girl. That
girl will get you into trouble.
That
girl will try to take you away.
That
girl is no better than she ought to be.
That
girl will lead you on and get pregnant so you can marry her. Of course, that was before she found out I was gay.”

“Did you always know you were interested in boys?” Ceri asked.

“I don’t think I really understood what it meant being gay. I remember when Captain Jack Harkness first appeared on
Doctor Who,
she wasn’t happy about me watching it after that, but I loved Jack, and when he kissed the Doctor, it made me feel all gooey inside. I played that recording over and over again. I knew I was more interested in Jack and the Doctor than Rose, but I didn’t add two and two—well, not really.”

“Did you never, you know, touch yourself? My brother threatened to tie me in boxing gloves when he discovered I’d used all the toilet roll. We shared a bedroom, and he found bits stuffed under the bed.”

“God. No. I thought Mum would know. She said only bad people did that—and filthy old men.”

“Was she religious? Is that where this all comes from?”

“No, not really. I think the family were originally Catholics, but she wasn’t really like that. Religion would have interfered, and she kept us to ourselves. She insisted I came home at lunchtime and she allowed me to stay off school if I was even the slightest bit ill. The wag officer came around a lot. It must sound so weird to you.”

“You’re all right. I like weird.”

“Oi, you two! Get off that wall. I’ll call the police. That’s private property, that is.” They turned around to see an old man waving a stick at them from next door.

Mick turned around. “It’s all right, Mr. Brown, I’m Mick Flanagan. I used to live here with my mum until a few years back.”

“Micky, is that really you under that beard? Your mum’s not here.”

Ceri mouthed “Micky” and grinned.

“I know. Mr. Brown. I saw her earlier.”

“How’s she doing? I didn’t know where to find you, or if you even knew about her illness.”

“She’s not good, I’m afraid. Thanks for keeping an eye on the place for her. It’s kind of you. I just thought I’d check on it.”

“This the boyfriend then?” Mr Brown asked.

“This is Ceri, and yes, he’s my boyfriend.”

Ceri held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Brown, sir,” he said. He was pleasantly surprised when the old man shook his hand.

“Your mum didn’t hold with you lot. I tried to tell her over the fence that it took all sorts. Served with a few of you in the Navy. We all knew, but turned a blind eye about what went on in the dark. They were as brave as any of us, braver some of them, so what did it matter? Not all were as enlightened as me though. She missed you, you know. When she did talk, which wasn’t often, she’d talk about you when you were a little boy. When you see her, say hello from me and tell her I’ve got Jimmy looking after the garden at the back. She didn’t want to leave her fruit and veg. I’ll say that for your mother, she loved her garden. I’ll get him to tidy up the front if you want.”

“I’ll try to tell her,” Mick said, his voice now shaking. “We’d better get going. I need some sleep before work and so do you.”

Ceri raised an eyebrow and waited until the old man had returned to his house. “D’you think Sally would mind if I crashed at yours rather than going home? I don’t want to leave you on your own.”

Mick breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t want to be on his own either. “That would be wonderful, and no, I’m sure Sally won’t mind.”

§ § §

Forty minutes later, even squeezed together in Mick’s bed, they were both asleep when their heads hit the pillow. They woke up with a start when the door opened and Mick grabbed the sheet to cover them both.

“Aww, look at you two love birds, and don’t bother with the sheet, I’ve seen it all before, boys,” Sally said laughing. “Although, where did all that peach fuzz come from?”

Mick ran his hand through his hair, amazed at how little embarrassment he felt being found like this with Ceri. “You’re home then,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, of course not. You’ll be the one complaining with her lungs. Phil’s just seeing if she settles, so I’d better go and help, and then I’ll order some take-away because I’m knackered and hungry. You want your usual?”

“Please, and add a meat feast for him,” Mick replied.

Sally laughed as she left. “I might have guessed.”

CHAPTER 17

Mick phoned the hospice the next day to check if his mum was out of the hospital. He explained a little of the situation.

“I’m sorry, but if she says she doesn’t want to see you, we have to respect her wishes,” the manager informed him. “I know how hard it must be, but our job is to make your mother’s passing as painless and dignified as possible.” She stopped for a moment as if she had just thought of something. “Hmmm, look, we do have another patient here who doesn’t get any visitors. He’s a lovely man. He has cancer as well. His partner was a little older than him when he passed. Tommy told me they’d been together over sixty years. He loves to talk about the old times and the war, and he has some great stories. If you’re here, perhaps your mum will relent. But, whatever, I know Tommy would love to have some handsome young men visit. It would raise his spirits no end.”

Mick didn’t hesitate. “I’d love to talk to him. I love stories myself. I’ll bring Ceri, my partner.” Wow, he loved saying that. “And then we can see what happens. I think that’s a lovely idea.” When he talked to Ceri, he was all for the visit too. They decided to go the very next afternoon, before they were due at work.

The hospice turned out to be a bright and cheerful building with colourful pictures and murals on the walls. The manager met them at reception and asked a volunteer helper to take them to Tommy’s room.

“I didn’t realise you could help at these places,” Mick said. “It must be difficult sometimes.”

“It can be, but we try to make it a happy place as well. We’re having a jumble sale to raise funds next week, so if you’ve anything you’d like to donate every pound helps. Ah, here we are.” She knocked on the door then opened it. Tommy waited in his wheelchair. He was pale and hunched over, making him look small. Ceri guessed he must be around ninety years old if he’d been in the war. He noted oxygen under the chair if Tommy needed it.

“Ah, you must be the two lovely boys Mandy mentioned. Have you come to listen to an old man’s stories then? Thank you for giving up your time.”

“It’s our pleasure; we’ve been looking forward to it. I’m Mick and this is Ceri. Do you want to stay here or…?”

“No, let’s get out of this room. The grounds are lovely, and the weather is nice enough to sit on the patio. I like to get out there when I can. They’re always busy here, so it’s nice to have visitors. So, tell me a little about yourselves while you push.” His voice was light and shaky, but it was obvious he still had all his faculties. Mick told him about his mother as they walked.

“Can’t understand it myself, but my parents were the same. Of course, things were very different back then. In my day it was illegal. I’m glad I lived long enough to see things change. Malcolm and I got our civil partnership the day after it was introduced. He died a month later.” He waved a frail hand. “No, don’t feel sorry for me. We had a long life together, Malcolm and I. We met during the war. He was older than me. He’d been in the reserves so he joined up straight away and became a sergeant major, training the new recruits. I knew from the moment I saw him in the parade ground, with his military bearing and carefully manicured moustache, that he was special. Silly, isn’t it? He was standing to attention in full uniform, and he looked so smart, chest out, chin out, shoulders back, like the perfect example of a soldier from all the recruitment posters. I was a scrawny kid, all legs and arms. My uniform didn’t fit properly. I remember him walking down the line, baton in hand, looking us up and down. I didn’t know whether fear or excitement caused my shivering. In hindsight, I think it was quite a lot of both.

“He said, ‘We’ll have to get some muscles on you, boy.’ But I just thought about the muscles on his arms and chest, hidden under his uniform. He had that sandy-coloured hair that strays into being ginger, and his moustache screamed military. I’d never kissed anyone with a ‘tache before. Oh, I knew I was queer. I’d worked down the pit for a few years and the dark can hide a lot of things, but the moment I saw Malcolm, I knew I wanted him.”

They reached the patio and put the brakes on Tommy’s chair before sitting on the bench next to him as he continued his story.

“Everybody knew what went on behind closed doors or in the dark. Some would have told on you, but most turned a blind eye as long as you did your job and didn’t try it on with them. It was harder for us though, as Malcolm was in charge, but we managed. I couldn’t believe my luck when he paid attention to me. None of us knew how long we’d have. I was in the first wave on D-Day, at Sword Beach. It nearly killed Malcolm watching me leave; he couldn’t even wave, let alone hug me. There were one or two hidden tears shed in those trucks that day, I can tell you.”

“Have you ever been back?” Mick asked.

“Yes, we went a few times. It was strange the first time to see those wide beaches with children playing on them, instead of the landing craft and the blood-coloured water. The Yanks got it worse at Omaha, of course. I’m sure that you’ve seen the films, but we took casualties as well. I was lucky, I suppose. I only got hit in the shoulder and that was the end of my war.” Neither Ceri nor Mick said anything for a moment as Tommy looked into the distance.

“What did you and Malcolm do afterwards?” Ceri asked after a little while. “It must have been difficult for you, given the legal situation at the time.”

“After the war, I went back to digging coal down the pit. My shoulder healed; luckily it was my left. It was always weaker, but I could still swing a pickaxe. Malcolm stayed in the army for longer, but he came to work there as well. I was able to put in a word for him, and he’d worked a coal face before in Yorkshire. You were all in it together underground as well, a bit like being in the army. We all needed each other, so no one said very much. If you were one of them, as long as you didn’t flaunt it, you were okay.” Mick and Ceri spent nearly two hours just listening to Tommy’s stories of near escapes, of rock falls down the pit, and how wonderful it felt to be legal after so many years.

“When Malcolm died in 2005, we’d been together for over sixty years, and not very many could say that. Oh, don’t get me wrong, we weren’t always perfect, but we knew the limits. I never loved anyone the way I loved him.”

Ceri automatically grabbed Mick’s hand and wiped away a tear. Tommy reached out somewhat shakily and covered them with his own. “Don’t let anyone tell you your love isn’t real, isn’t right, is against God’s laws, or any of the other poison some people spout, even today. Treasure it always, and treasure each other. I’ll try to speak to your mum. She can be a bit prickly, but she has been civil to me. I guess she hasn’t worked out I’m a queer too. She has a thing about people touching her, especially men, and only lets the female helpers come anywhere near. It’s been lovely talking to you. Will you come again?”

“We’d love to,” Ceri said, genuinely meaning it. “It’s people like you who helped people like us be able to live an open life. We know we’ve a lot to be grateful for.”

§ § §

When they got back to Sally’s, they still had a couple of hours until time to go to work. They looked at each other with the same thought in mind.

“Sally, Phil, and the baby are visiting his mother until later,” Mick said, grabbing Ceri’s hand and taking him towards the bedroom. If anyone had said he would be doing this only a few months ago, he wouldn’t even have laughed; he’d simply have curled in on himself and died a little more inside. Yet here he was, laughing out loud, and needing to be close to another person, wanting to be inside him more than anything else, longing for that connection. Somehow, he knew Ceri felt the same, and this was their tribute to all those men who had gone before them, risked imprisonment, and campaigned for the freedom to be together.