The Boy I Love (42 page)

‘Come on then, chop chop, we haven’t got all night. Well, we have – but I have no doubt that at some point you will fall asleep on me.’

Sally was now completely thrown. She had never undressed in front of anyone before. All her drunken sessions had been with as little light as possible, and as many clothes on as she could
reasonably get away with. This was a nightmare. She sat on the edge of the bed and turned on the lamp her side of the bed.

She had pulled off her dress before she realized she would have to go and turn off the main light, thus exposing her fat stomach and unattractive tights. But at least the tights kept the fat on
her legs enclosed and gave them a nice smooth shine. So she was going to have to make a dash for the switch and hope he wasn’t looking. Fat chance of that: he was sitting up sipping his
champagne waiting for the floorshow!

Oh well, here goes nothing, she thought. She had a gorgeous bra on at least, which she had had to go and buy to complement the low dress and get a good cleavage. Janie had chosen it, otherwise
she would have been in her usual Marks & Spencer white matching sensible underwear. It was a black lace half-cup bra and she wore a matching black lace thong, which had been annoying her all
night, because it was right up her bum! She tried to walk with her stomach turned away from the bed, which gave her a strange look of a lost spider! When she got to the light-switch she lifted her
arms above her head in a kind of mock stretch, which gave her the opportunity to breathe in deeply, and hold her stomach in for the final moment in the light. Then, thank God, the light was off and
there was only the rosy glow from her little bedside light. She managed to hold her breath all the way back to the bed, where she slipped niftily between the sheets.

‘Well, they weren’t exactly the most seductive moves I have seen in a bedroom, Sally,’ came Rupert’s voice, ‘but I guess you have yet to perfect them for
professional purposes.’

‘What do you mean by that!’ she exclaimed, stung. ‘You think I do this all the time? How dare you suggest I am a slapper – like some girls you know,’ she said
pointedly, then regretted it.

‘No,’ Rupert said calmly, ‘I mean when you have to do love scenes on camera, you twit. It is horrible, believe me, Sal. You feel such an arse in front of the crew, and everyone
is scrutinizing your bits, et cetera. It’s a nightmare. So all I am saying is you should practise a bit more and have your moves ready.’

‘Sorry, I didn’t understand what you were driving at, but I can assure you, Rupert, I will not be asked to do those sorts of scenes. I am just not pretty enough. I know my
limitations. I am a character actress – I will always be the fat friend, or the mixed-up one who is useless. Honestly, I don’t mind. As long as I can play good parts in prestige
productions I will be happy. Give me some champagne, you greedy pig, you have already drunk half the bottle. It was me who was supposed to show you I can get drunk.’ She grabbed the bottle,
poured herself a glass and threw it back, then poured another.

Rupert was leaning on one elbow watching her with a smile on his face. ‘You are such good value, Sally, do you know that? I love being with you, it makes me smile all the time. Isabelle
was hard work and I am supposed to be in love with her.’

Sally sighed inwardly. Oh god, I knew
she
would have to come up eventually, but how am I going to get rid of her from the conversation.

‘Don’t you think, maybe, it was more lust than love? I mean, she is a gorgeous girl and everything, but she is so self-obsessed, Rupert – how could she love anyone back? And
all the anorexia and bulimia and the drugs; it is not good for her certainly, nor you. You don’t need that kind of image just as you are about to crack it big on the West End stage. You need
a nice calming influence – like me.’

Sally couldn’t believe she had just come out with that statement, and was about to take it back when Rupert leaned over and kissed her. She waited for him to draw away again, but he
didn’t. Instead he moved over to her and slowly began to explore her with his tongue. It was bliss. Sally loved kissing and was always disappointed when boys used to stop as quickly as they
could, in order to get to the next part of the proceedings, which was usually to grab a breast. Not so young Rupert. They seemed to kiss for hours, only coming up now and then for air. But suddenly
everything changed, for both of them. Sally could feel her need growing inside her. All the doubts and hurts and worries were disappearing, and leaving in their place a hunger. A huge desire to
feel another human being. To touch skin and taste salty kisses and burn from his touch. Rupert had slipped on top of her and seemed to have discarded his pants on the way.

‘What about precautions?’ she managed to mumble through the kisses.

‘Taken care of,’ Rupert’s voice was low and urgent. ‘Sally, you are a beautiful person.’ He gently found her g-string and removed it, and then unclasped her
expensive lacy bra with one deft flick of his fingers. But he did not clutch at her boobs, he just kissed her all over, exploring her body. Sally was shy at first because she did not want him to be
disappointed. Isabelle she most certainly was not! But whether it was down to the champagne, or Rupert’s power of seduction, slowly she opened up to him. She wanted to explore his body, was
hungry for more.

‘Hey, take it easy,’ he panted, ‘we have got all night, you know. I want to savour this. Miss Sally Thomas, a tiger in bed.’

‘Stop, Rupert, you are embarrassing me now. Please let’s just do it!’

‘What a quaint turn of phrase for the excellent lovemaking I had in mind. Do it! Sally Thomas, just lie back and enjoy, you deserve it . . .’

‘You will both have to have blood tests.’ Giles sat back from the table in a private sitting room of the Queen’s Hotel and watched the two young lovers try
to absorb the devastating information he had just imparted to them. There was no other way of doing this except with the brutal and honest truth. All of them, including himself, were in mortal
danger. He had discussed it endlessly with Teddie, who had gone off to London immediately to see his private doctor. But this was not something that could be cured with money.

‘So is Robert going to die?’ whispered Eddie.

‘I am afraid he is very close to the end, and I was going to suggest you both went to visit him to say goodbye. I will pay the train fares for you. You could go down tomorrow and come back
Monday morning. Do you have anywhere you can stay tomorrow night? If not, I will pay for a B&B – there are plenty in the vicinity of the station. Now, is there anything you want to ask
me?’ Giles was acutely aware that Eddie was going to have to talk to his father, and God knows how Teddie Graham was going to deal with the fact that his only son and heir was gay; or indeed,
that his own secret life was now threatened with exposure.

‘Are we going to die?’ Jeremy was holding himself ramrod straight, and his face was white and pinched. He let out a little moan and then covered his mouth with his hand. ‘Oh
God, what am I going to tell my parents!’

‘I suggest you say nothing to anyone at this juncture,’ advised Giles. ‘First things first. You will go and have blood tests on Monday morning, and then once we have the
results we will know better what we have to do. I am so sorry, boys. It is the most frightening and threatening thing to happen to any of us. Everyone in the gay community is going to have to stick
together and beat this.’

He got up from the table and bade them both good night. It was already the early hours of Sunday morning and the boys were exhausted.

‘Come on, Eddie, let’s go to bed and try to get some sleep,’ Jeremy said. ‘I will look up the trains for tomorrow.’

They passed the bar on the way to their room, and heard all the laughter and screams of delight that accompanied a Saturday night at the Queen’s Hotel. How different was life going to be
for so many people if this terrible disease got a grip?

They undressed and prepared for bed in silence. Once under the covers they lay side by side, each with his own thoughts racing through his head. Then very softly Eddie began to cry, just
sniffles at first as he brushed away a tear, but then he could not hold in the sobs that racked his body. Jeremy took him in his arms and rocked him gently, ignoring his own tears, wet on his
cheek.

‘Shush now. Come on, Eddie, all is not lost. We may be OK. Come on, be strong. We will fight this together. Please don’t cry, my love.’ Jeremy held his lover until finally
Eddie fell asleep. Jeremy turned over and tried to fall asleep himself, but his mother’s face was right there in front of him; her warm, lovely smile reassuring him when he was frightened, or
insecure as a child.

‘It is all right, Jeremy dear. You will be fine. Mummy loves you very much. You are a very good boy.’

The boys found themselves a room in a B&B near Euston the next evening. It was not the most salubrious of areas, but this particular establishment was down a side street up near Camden Town
in a shabby Georgian terraced house. The room was clean and the landlady a very jolly lady, born and bred locally.

‘Just make sure you have no visitors. All right, darlings?’ She wagged her finger at them. ‘There are plenty of “ladies” out there willing to oblige you with a bit
of fun, but they do not belong in my house. Do you understand?’ She stood in front of them with her hands on her hips waiting for their response. It would have been funny if things had been
different, thought Jeremy. He smiled at her and promised.

‘Oh absolutely. We have no intention of bringing anyone back. We just needed a place to sleep tonight before we get the train back to Crewe tomorrow morning.’

They had arranged to go and visit Robert that evening. Neither of them could talk about it or what they were going to do or say. Jeremy had so many questions for Eddie, as he had had no idea
that Robert and Eddie had once had an affair. Or was it just a one-night stand? How many others were there? But he could not bear to open that can of worms just yet. There was too much at stake.
For now they were simply doing what Giles told them.

They had been given the number of a new organization called the Terence Higgins Trust, which offered advice to anyone who needed it regarding the disease.

‘Let’s see Robert first and then we can ring them and ask questions,’ said Jeremy.

‘I hate hospitals,’ muttered Eddie as they made their way through Reception on the ward at St Thomas’. It was not a good place to be, Jeremy had to agree. The neon lighting was
harsh against the dark windows and outside, a cold damp December evening was pressing up against the glass. The nurse showed them to a side room on a ward.

At first, Jeremy thought the bed was empty as there was no sign of a body under the covers, but as he moved further into the room and round the corner of the end of the bed, he gasped, and
pulled back. Robert’s head was just visible above the sheet but it was more like a skull. The skin was stretched so thinly across the cheekbones and the eyes were sunken, lost under the brow,
like two black stones at the mouth of a cave.

Jeremy had to use every ounce of strength to pull himself together.

‘Hi, Robert.’ He tried to smile. ‘We have come to say hello, and to wish you better. I am so sorry this has happened.’

Robert opened his mouth and tried to speak but there was nothing. He then pushed the covers down and struggled to lift his arm.

‘What do you want?’ asked Jeremy. ‘Water? Hang on, I will get it for you.’ He went to the cabinet at the side of the bed and found a beaker with a spout. He leaned in to
Robert and tried to place the spout in his mouth. He felt so clumsy and was terrified he would break Robert’s arm trying to sit him up, as it was as thin as a twig, and covered in sores. He
could feel the revulsion in himself, then the fear that he would, somehow, be infected. He pulled back and said, ‘Shall I get the nurse? Sorry, I am being useless, aren’t I?’

Robert shook his head, and a ghost of a smile brushed his lips. He looked past Jeremy to Eddie, who was transfixed. He could not move from the end of the bed.

‘Robert . . . I am so sorry. I . . . Sorry, I can’t cope with this, I . . .’ Eddie turned and fled from the room.

Taking a deep breath, Jeremy took Robert’s hand in his and squeezed very gently.

‘Take care, lots of love.’ He could feel Robert trying to squeeze his hand back, but the tiny, bony sticks that were his fingers just lay inert. It was like touching a skeleton, and
Jeremy had to grit his teeth to stop a scream pushing its way up from the pit of his stomach. This was his worst nightmare. He managed to extricate his hand and step back. Every fibre of his being
was pulling him towards the door. He just wanted to follow Eddie and run. Run for his life, literally.

‘Goodbye, Robert,’ was all he could murmur, and he slowly moved backwards towards the door, keeping his eyes on the man in the bed until the very last moment, when he turned and
staggered from the room. Eddie was nowhere to be seen so Jeremy went to the exit, hoping to find him on the way. He discovered Eddie outside, sitting on a wall, hugging himself for warmth.