Chapter 2

For a short while the Jays, to use the nickname Jayde and Jake had adopted, did as he promised and quietened down. However, over a couple of weeks or so the volume crept back up. No chance meetings on the stairs provided an easy opportunity for me to mention the subject again.

Friends were sympathetic, but had no practical suggestions. Smiles described them as 'those two noisy birds roosting upstairs, ' and suggested firing a shotgun loaded with blanks at them. Witty, but as I pointed out, wild birds are legally protected. Jeremy offered to put up a camp bed in the shop for me if my lack of sleep became desperate. Dale suggested complaining to the local council about noise nuisance. This might have worked, but there was an awful lot to it. A council official would come to visit, I would have to keep a diary of dates and times when the nuisance occurred, and ask other neighbours to do the same. Eventually the Jays could be served with a formal notice to stop. Ultimately they could even be taken to court. The whole process sounded as though it would take months, and did I really want to face them if threatening official notices were nailed to their door? They might retaliate by making my life even more miserable.

Once, spotting them in the supermarket, I avoided them by pretending to study the labels of the herbs and spices for ten minutes until they went to the checkout. Wimpish, maybe, but to cheerily say hello would give the impression nothing was wrong, whereas to berate them about noise in a shop full of people would be embarrassing.

Worried I would be thought an idiot, I kept that particular evasive action to myself, not even telling Dale, who was always so supportive. We met in the Give and Take at least once a week, and began to spend Sunday afternoons together. His flat was only about a mile from a stretch of the Thames where lots of rowing clubs had boathouses. He belonged to the hospital sports and social club, which had a share in one of them, and he signed me in as guest so we could take out rowing skiffs.

These little boats were so narrow they were unstable until you sat down. Fast currents and gusts of wind helped or hindered progress once you were under way; in the right circumstances they would reach exhilarating speeds, but could sometimes be difficult to control. Dale knew that stretch of river, and could find sheltered places where the current slowed and we could catch our breath.

Once a police launch passed him when he was way in front, and came speeding towards me. In a strong variable wind, I tried to move out of its way towards the river bank, but facing backwards as rowers do, misjudged my position and looked round to see the launch within a few lengths of my boat. Too late, I worked the oars frantically in an effort to turn more quickly. When the launch was almost upon me, I drew them into the sides to make as narrow an obstacle as possible. The launch passed me safely, but its bow wave sent my little skiff rocking wildly. I could imagine what the police officers on board were thinking.

Dale saw the incident, turned back, and seeing that I was all right, apart from my embarrassment, he said, 'Hoping for a lift with a nice young policeman, were you?' He was more reassuring when we talked of the incident later, saying 'They were probably more worried than you were. The newspaper headline "Police Launch Collides With Rowing Boat" is the last thing they want.'

Few of the tourist boats came up to that stretch, some miles upstream from Central London. Dale loved the river and knew lots of local history. Whilst walking the riverside paths he would tell me about how busy the waterway had been fifty years ago, with barges taking coal to power stations and gas works, grain to breweries, and merchandise to warehouses. There was a pub called The City Barge on the bank where the Lord Mayor's splendid ceremonial boat once used to be moored. Here and there were houseboats, some very smart with little gardens in containers on the roof, others neglected with peeling paint and rusting metal.

One Sunday evening, after our trip on the river, Dale cooked dinner, a stir-fry, at Fulrose Court. The Jays had disturbed my sleep badly during the preceding few nights. On Thursday and Friday they had had friends round and partied for hours. On Saturday, I stupidly stayed late in a club as a way of avoiding the noise at home, but that, of course, made me more tired than ever. Sitting at the table in the warmth of Dale's flat, full of his delicious food, I fell asleep while he was in the kitchen making coffee. He woke me by gently squeezing my shoulder. 'Haven't bored you that much, have I?'

I felt rotten. He had kept the conversation going all afternoon, and then cooked the meal. My small contribution had been bringing a bottle of wine. 'What must you think. I really enjoyed the meal, and the afternoon, and being with you. I'm worn out, that's the trouble.'

'Why don't you have a quiet night here? The bed in the spare room is made up. At least you'll be fit for work in the morning.'

The prospect of a good sleep, with no need for earplugs, was difficult to turn down. I insisted he sit and relax while I cleared the table, loaded up the dishwasher, and cleaned his wok. We watched the news on television together for half an hour then, before we turned in, he showed me where he kept a spare toothbrush and invited me to use his electric shaver in the morning.

That night was my first at Fulrose Court. A couple of weekends later when he went to visit his parents in Northampton, he asked me to water his plants, gave me a key and said I was welcome to sleep in the spare room while he was away. He was not due to return until after work on Monday. I packed a small bag and stayed in his flat all weekend. After three good nights' sleep between his sheets, I felt better than I had for weeks. I was about to say how grateful I was, but he jumped in first and thanked me for keeping an eye on the place for him!

He had not mentioned the possibility of me becoming his flatmate since the day when, months ago, he had walked into the bookshop. Now the question hung, unspoken, between us. Ignoring it I said, 'I hope everything is as you left it. Except the sheets, of course. You might want to have them sterilized ... and fumigated. The hospital laundry could be the ideal place.'

'Don't remind me. It's total chaos in there. The manager is due to come to see me tomorrow. If we can't organize a laundry, how can we be trusted with people's medical care?' He paused and added softly, 'That's my worry. If you came to live here you could sort your sheets out for yourself. After all, we first met because Smiles suggested you might be interested in sharing the flat with me. I don't want to push you though, and I won't mention the subject again unless you want to talk about it. Still, in about a month's time I will seriously need to find a flatmate. If you're still not interested I'll ask around at the Give and Take, or advertise maybe.'

'What if you found you couldn't stand my personal habits? I've got some funny ways.'

'We all have them. Try living here for a couple of weeks, no commitment. If it doesn't work out, you can go back to your old place. We could still be friends.'

I took up his offer of a trial flat share, and a few weeks later left my little place in the ugly Victorian terrace and moved in with him. My possessions did not call for a big removal wagon, so we borrowed Jeremy's van and made two trips. The Jays knew nothing of my escape until they saw me in the street with my arms full of towels and toiletries. They were on their way back from shopping, and had a male friend with them. I had glimpsed him once on the stairs but not spoken to him. He was enviably good-looking, his short hair effortlessly neat and attractive, his brown eyes set back under a strong brow, his lips ... the fact is, I fancied him so much it was difficult not to stare at him. The Jays said hello, and Jayde asked if I was moving. No longer caring what they might think I responded 'Yes. Found somewhere quieter.'

'Oh, I hope it's a nice place. Not, like, because of us, is it?' She laughed in her loud shrill way. The idea that they might have driven me out was evidently so absurd she thought it funny.

Jake said, 'You didn't say anything. You going far?'

'No. Well, I'll still be in West London.'

'Don't be a stranger, come and see us. You haven't been around much lately.' With emphasis he added, 'I don't forget things, you know.'

'Actually, ' she said, 'funny coincidence, but Toby's, like, after a place, aren't you?'

'Yes, on and off, ' he said. Those wonderful deep-set eyes now looked directly into mine. 'Round here might suit me.' He smiled. Even his teeth were perfect. He waited for an answer.

'I suppose I ought to have a final check round to make sure nothing's been left behind. You're welcome to come up and have a shufti.'

Dale, overhearing me, stepped out of the back of the van and said 'Yes, go ahead, I'll wait here.'

Toby followed me upstairs and glanced rapidly round the flat, pausing only to open the bathroom cabinet.

'Empty?' I asked.

'Yes.' He smiled. 'Nothing to reveal your secrets.'

'What makes you think I have any? Have you known the Jays for long?'

'A while. I met her not long after she came up to London, before she picked up with Jake. Wonder if having them as neighbours would be a good thing or a bad thing.'

'Depends on whether you're the party type.'

'That what you are then?'

'Only up to a point.'

He went into the main room and looked out of the window. The Jays must have told him I was gay, for he said, 'That your boyfriend down there, with the van?'

'No. We'll be sharing a flat, that's all.'

'Cosy.'

'No. It's a big place. Plenty of room for two.'

'Nice to have a big place if you can afford it. Won't keep you then. See you around, maybe?' He went off upstairs to join the Jays.

When I returned to the van Dale asked, 'Who was the hunk?'

'A friend of the Jays, first time I've met him. Wonder what it must be like to be so good-looking?'

'He'd turn heads at the Give and Take, yours and mine included.'

We drove on to Fulrose Court. The spare bedroom easily took most of my things, and Dale had also made space for my stuff in the bathroom and kitchen. Even in the lounge he had freed up some shelf and cupboard space, clearly wanting me to have the run of the flat. From that first day he was easygoing and adaptable. We agreed to take turns with chores like vacuuming and putting the rubbish out. During our first week together we apologized to each other a lot, for leaving dirty crockery stacked in the dishwasher because we did not think it full enough to turn it on, for being in the bathroom when the other might want to use it, or just for needing to pass one another in the hall.