Chapter 5

One night Smiles turned up at Toby's South London club. By this time the faces of many of the regulars were familiar to me, though I seldom spoke to any of them. Smiles, out of his usual haunt, was relieved to see someone he knew. 'So this is where you've been choosing to spend your time — and money, ' he said.

Hanging round as usual waiting for Toby, I was glad to see him. 'Toby's choice. This place is his playing field.'

'Playing the field, more like?' He nodded towards my boyfriend, who was dancing with a sweet-faced girl I had never seen before. People mostly danced without touching, in whatever little free space they could find, but Toby and the girl were holding each other close, rubbing their bodies suggestively against one another. In that place, jealousy over a bit of flirtatious showing off would be bizarrely possessive.

'He knows all the regulars. At times it's as if he knows the whole of London. A change for you, coming here.'

To talk more easily we walked past the toilets to the open area outside. He had come because the owners of the Give and Take were planning a new late night venue, and wanted him to investigate the competition.

'This place always fills up, ' I said. 'It's buzzing, I'll say that for it, but how to go about creating the buzz to start with ... The scene is not really for me, too frenetic, I'm not the right person to talk to about what draws people in.'

'I expect they're making money though, takings on the door are probably good ... wonder what the drink sales are like. High prices. You see people come in, meet friends, dance, some of them go to the bar, some not. A venue like this becomes the place to be seen, but it won't necessarily last, a new club opens and people go there instead ... or troublemakers drive away the decent customers. Late night clubs are so different to the Give and Take, where it's a friendly bar and there's hardly ever any trouble. Bet the Gay Symphony Orchestra are not coming in here to rehearse. No prospect of toying with a trombonist tonight.'

'You've moved on from the clarinettist, then.'

'There's a whole orchestra for me to play with, remember.'

'You're as bad as Toby.'

'I'd forgotten how you always take everything literally. What I'd really like now is someone steady in my life. Working at the Give and Take there's too much temptation.'

We went back inside to find the club busier than before. 'I wonder how many are crammed in tonight. Bet there are more than health and safety rules permit, ' he said. 'Don't look round, but a woman over there has just pointed at you. Now she's heading this way. Boy with her is not bad.'

That the Jays should turn up was no surprise. The club was mixed straight and gay, and their type of place. I introduced them to Smiles as 'the couple with the music system'. He asked them if they missed having me as a neighbour.

Jayde said, 'He still comes round to his old flat sometimes, but he doesn't come up to see us. We get told plenty though.' She turned to me. 'No use you thinking you've got away from us that easy. Does Toby know you're here at his club with your friend?'

'He's over there, ' I said, waving towards him.

'Oh yeah, ' she said. 'Busy as usual.'

'Why don't we all dance?' Jake suggested.

We found enough space on the floor for the four of us. After a couple of minutes Smiles danced up close to me. Speaking loudly in order to be heard, he said in my ear, 'I wouldn't mind finding myself in a dark corner with your friend Jake. Bet she keeps him on a short lead. Guess I've seen enough of the club. Would it be okay if I leave you to it? I gave him a thumbs up and mouthed 'Yes.' The Jays were making regular eye contact with me and smiling. Even after he had gone, with them for company I felt more at ease in that place than usual. Toby, at the other end of the room, waved to us, but made off in another direction to see one of his regular contacts.

The club was always hot, and dancing made us hotter still. The Jays followed me to the bar to get drinks, and I leaned forwards so the barman could hear me. Jake was so close behind me I could feel him against my back. He reached out an arm to take his drink from the bar and leaned firmly on me. A lot of straight men think that to act a bit gay now and again shows how cool they are, so I ignored him. No one took much notice, not even Jayde who was right next to us. I turned around to face him. 'How you doing, mate?' he asked, looking me in the eye. He put his hands on either side of me on the bar surface, pinning me to the spot.

She regarded us calmly and said, 'Good in here, isn't it Ben? Like, it's a nice free and easy type of place.'

His face was two inches from mine. He said, 'You come here because Toby drags you along, don't you? Ever thought it was time to let him know he shouldn't take you for granted?'

'He's right, isn't he?' she said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

As she spoke, Toby came up behind him and startled him by saying, 'Put him down, you don't know where he's been.'

Jayde was ready with a riposte. 'You're lucky he's still here, the way you go off and leave him lying around. Serve you right if somebody took him home with them. We're not the only ones who've been eyeing him up.'

'He's saving himself for me. He's a good boy, aren't you Ben?' He enjoyed making me out to be gullible. What did the three of them really think of me? That I was too dim to keep up in their game of grab-every-thrill-that's-going?

Jake, suddenly serious, said in my ear, 'I know what you're thinking. We're crap, aren't we? You think us turning up is like finding you've got some dog shit stuck on your shoe.' Jayde and Toby, not able to make out fully what he said in the general din, laughed uncertainly.

His speculation about my thoughts surprised me, particularly on a night when, for the first time, their company had actually been welcome. 'No ... why do you say that? I'm glad you're here.'

Toby cut in, 'That's enough. No more taking advantage of him, you two, not without my say so, anyway.' To me he said. 'Come on, we can go now, if you're ready.'

Despite feeling a wimp for doing so, I obediently followed him out.

Having left the hot stale air of the club we walked to a corner where it was easy to hail a taxi. For something to say I asked him about the woman he had been dancing with. 'Not going to be jealous because of that, are you? Who am I with now?' Then, as an afterthought, he added, 'Besides, I am bisexual, you know.'

I did not know, and thought it highly unlikely. He was no more bi than I was. He had said that to worry me, to make clear to me that he was the top dog. 'I only asked who she was, ' I said sharply.

'Don't worry about her, ' Toby replied. 'Her boyfriend wasn't far away. He's not someone you cross. You can forget about her.'

How sure of himself he was, thinking that seeing him with the girl had made me jealous. A denial, though, would have sounded hollow, so I said coolly, 'You never told me you were bi. Do you have a girlfriend at the moment?'

'What?'

'Do you have a girlfriend at the moment?'

He waggled his hand in a maybe, maybe not gesture, unable to think of a smart answer. The topic was evidently closed. This was how he was all the time. Scoring points was the closest he came to meaningful conversation. When we were back at his flat we shagged without much enthusiasm; more than ever we seemed to share nothing except sex. Being with him was, I supposed, better than having no boyfriend at all.

During the last few weeks there had been odd mornings when Dale had not been around, a sign he was staying overnight with pick-ups, or possibly that he too had found a boyfriend. He had not volunteered any information, but why should he, since I never talked to him about my relationship with Toby? We had other things to talk about; he was interested in my progress with the Effingham and Meadowgoose International Short Story Competition, at times making me feel as though he was supervising, as if it was one of his projects at work. Hearing that Loyd had told me by phone to 'shuffle through and find a dozen stories that weren't bad, ' he let me know he did not approve. All of the stories, he said, ought to be read through by several people and assessed against an agreed list of criteria.

This idea was reasonable, but it would have taken lots more time than Loyd, who clearly wanted only minimum effort, had allowed. If Dale had been organizing the competition from the start he might have argued for a fairer system and talked Loyd round, but to change the process now would be impracticable.

He must have guessed what was going through my mind, for he said: 'Always so easy to tell someone else how they should do things, but nothing I have to deal with myself is ever simple. The way you're doing it is more spontaneous, perhaps it's right for the competition. The thing is ... you know if you want a bit of help with anything, or just to talk to someone, do ask me if I can help, I will. Have you found any more stories with a gay theme?'

'Yes, one. And it's one of the better ones. Good enough for the shortlist, I think.'

'Changing the subject, there is something I wanted to ask you, as a favour.'

'Go on.'

'You know my aunt, the one in the nursing home whose books you sorted out? I've mentioned having a new flatmate a couple of times, and that we're friends. Well, last time I went to see her she said, if you could find time one day, she would like to meet you. I know you're busy with the competition now, and going to a nursing home to see an elderly relative of mine is lot to ask. You don't have to, I'll understand if you'd rather not.'

He must have said nice things to her about me, and of course I said yes. He took me down to the home, near Kingston-upon-Thames, on a Thursday afternoon. On our way to the front door, through the windows we could see in the sitting room several old ladies in big armchairs watching television, and others staring through the windows at the world outside. To my eyes they were not noticeably older than Loyd Larcher, who went on lecture tours in the US, had his omnibus edition coming out and was judge of a short story competition. The home's residents had, apparently, settled into a much more limited kind of existence.

Dale's aunt had her own room, on the first floor. She got up slowly from her chair to welcome us. Her hair was iron-grey and her skin sallow, but she took my hand firmly and smiled, putting me at ease. 'I'm so glad you've come, ' she said, 'it's lovely to have visitors.' She had an electric kettle and some cups on a tray, and made us tea. When she sat down again she said to Dale, 'Show Ben that picture of you, over there.' On a small sideboard she had half a dozen framed family photographs, and he handed me one taken of him when he was in school uniform. 'He was in the fifth form then, ' she said.