Not Quite An Autobiography
'Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does.
Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up'
- James Baldwin
Prologue
When I was seventeen I told my twin brother that his girlfriend of two years was cheating on him, because, believe it or not, she was. He chose the not believing me option and told me I was jealous. Which, in hindsight, couldn’t have been further from the truth. But in his defence, he didn’t have the benefit of hindsight and he didn’t want to believe what I was telling him. He didn’t speak to me for two weeks after that. Our poor mum thought she was living in a war zone: coz ‘not speaking’ loosely translates as ‘speaking just as much but with greater volume’ to two twin brothers at the age of seventeen. And then he caught her at it. And he wouldn’t let anyone but me comfort him over it. Coz everyone else had lied to him and fobbed him off when he’d asked. I was the only one who’d been honest with him so I was the only one he trusted.
Anyway, my point is, I’ve always believed in honesty. And I don’t mean that in the trite fucking ‘honesty is the best policy’ way. I just mean, people appreciate it when you’re honest with them. About who you are, who they are, about what ‘s happening in any given situation. I’ve always believed in that. Lying to someone is just...patronising them. It’s presuming that they will be better off not knowing, as if they don’t realise somewhere deep down that something isn’t right. I’ll grant you, I’m not always good at sticking to my own belief on this. When something is wrong with me, my first instinct is to lie and say I’m ok. But I don’t try and hide from the people who will see past that lie. Which to me is as good as telling the truth. And I’ve always, always, been that way. Honesty is a big part of who I am, a big part of why I make the choices in life I make. It’s pretty much the thing that defines me, as dramatic as that sounds. It is though. It’s part of what’s gotten me here.
I know it seems like I didn’t marry the most honest man in the world. And yeah, Howard isn’t always good at being forthcoming with the truth. He’s had his moments, his lies. They’ve been the things that have come closest to breaking the two of us apart. But in my heart of hearts I know he’s honest in the way that matters to me most: he’s honest about who he is. He doesn’t pretend to be ok with everything all the time or to have the cleanest mouth, the best way with words, even the best habits. He lies because he’s shy and because he never thinks he’s good enough. And...I can identify with that. He’s honest with me, mostly. He knows he can’t hide from me, just like I know I can’t hide from him. Honesty is inevitable between the two of us because we know each other so well. And also because he knows, has learnt the hard way, exactly how important honesty is to me.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not socially inept with it. I know you don’t go round telling your self-conscious sister that her new haircut is God-awful, I know white lies are...needed, sometimes. I use them myself, it’s a part of me to try and charm people, even when I have no intention of ever seeing them again, it doesn’t hurt anyone, occasionally it even makes people smile, which is always my intention. I am so aware of a lie’s ability to make someone smile that I even spent three weeks lying through my teeth to my husband. I lied to him, I even got his own daughter to lie to him, Monika was trying her best to lie to him, but, bless her, she struggled as much as I did. The three of us kept each other strong and we lied our way through it. And the grin on Howard’s face when we surprised him? It was definitely worth it. He assures me it was his best birthday present ever. Which I was glad of, coz I’ve still got that fucking apartment hanging over my head.
But this past year has really made me question it. The honesty thing. Because I was honest to Gaz and Mark. And look how that ended up. I was honest with them and...you know...I tried not to be. For a long time I tried not to be. Because, for all that I believe in honesty, I still know how destructive it can be. I know it’s rarely what people want to hear. I fucking hated it when my brother wouldn’t talk to me. And yet that was nothing compared to what this one little truth did. And it was the truth, I’m not questioning that. I’m just questioning if that was the turning point. If it’s my fault what happened, if this whole year is my fault. It affected all of us, as it turned out. Gaz, Howard and me – our entire lives have shifted since then, be that for good or bad, I don’t really know yet. And then there’s Mark. Mark...well, he was in New York last time I heard. I don’t know what city he’s moved on to by now. None of us have heard from him since a month after he first left. But I presume his life has changed, because when you’re living in a suitcase nothing is ever the same for long. So now...well now it’s all so different now to what it was, and I’ve lost track of what is just part of life and what is something we should’ve tried to stop.
The thing I try and remind myself of is that Mark and Gary were already messed up before I told them they were. They didn’t become a mess because I said the words. I just speeded up a process. And it needed speeding up, didn’t it? Coz it would have destroyed them if it had just been dragged out. As it was, they were apart but...there was at least an understanding there instead of just a wreck. I know love is a war. I know that. Of all people I should: I’m the one who has shouting matches with his husband that get so loud your throat would get hoarse just listening to us. Not often mind, our relationship is so far from fucked up that our mates tend to wish we would fight just to stop the sickly sweetness. But when we fight we have it out because we have to in order to move on, to find a way around whatever it is life is trying to drive between us. I love Howard. I love Howard like gravity loves pulling things back down to earth. Monika rolls her eyes at us sometimes and calls it ‘an affliction’, which it is, I suppose. It’s something I can’t get away from. It’s something that has changed me, as much as I would like to say it hasn’t. I’d like to say you don’t have to change, to grow up, in order to survive love but if I did that would be a lie. And I have changed and grown and...I’m not entirely sure what to make of that sometimes. I’m not sure I like it, if I’m honest. But life versus love just keeps on coming and I don’t have time to dwell on it, I don’t let there be time to dwell on it.
I like to think that every battle love does against life makes it stronger, if it’s real anyway. And if you’re grown up enough to cope with that then you won’t break it, that thing you have. I cling onto that fact a lot these days. I’m fighting my own battle here. God knows if I’m winning or not. Probably not right now.
Chapter One
Barlow’s Music Shop was one of those establishments that, when mentioned to certain people who knew Manchester well enough, could provoke a fond smile and an ‘Ohhh, Barlow’s? Yes, I know it.’ The charm of the place was never quite defined by any of its admirers. Some tried to put it down to the character of the building, but anyone who’d been around the area long enough knew that couldn’t be the case, because in the building’s previous incarnations, as a second-hand bookshop followed by an antiques shop and then, in turn, another bookshop, it had never possessed quite the same life that it did once the red and gold Barlow’s sign had been installed. The place’s only real claim to fame was a one-sentence mention in a shopping guide to Manchester, and yet, somehow, the place always had to be remarked upon whenever Oldham Street came up in conversation. Those who knew it well enough could tell you a great many stories. They could tell you, for example, about Barlow’s grand opening; the new owner, Barlow himself no less, had made tea for those who actually turned up and promised each one of them that, if they came back, he would always make them a brew...he’d been true to his word and then some. Others could tell you about the day their charming shop assistant first arrived; he had sat himself up on the shop’s counter, taught the bored children of the bike shop’s owner how to breakdance and (accidentally) made the girl from the charity shop fall in love with him. But the story most widely told? The one where everything changed. Maybe not everything, but something did. Something important, something no one was really able to identify but everyone felt the moment they stepped through the shop’s door. The bell would still ring and a thin layer of dust would still be disturbed from its resting place atop the instruments. But the building didn’t smile or hum the way it used to. Despite the owner’s endless warmth and Northern charm, a hush had descended upon the place. The only thing Oldham Street had ever had to prove that the world was not going to the dogs was dwindling quietly, sustained only by lingering traces of the dazzling energy it had once been filled with.
There was no loss of fondness. And no loss of belonging, to those who felt it was where they belonged anyway. There was, perhaps, a little more dust and maybe there were fewer pianos, but the floorboards still creaked and the kettle still worked and, for Gary Barlow at least, that seemed to be enough to be at home there. More at home, in many ways, than he felt anywhere else. He knew it was different, as any good shop-owner should, but he had developed a resilience over the years, so he simply made his tea, sat down at his piano and got on with his life. But he’d been getting on with his life for a year now, and, as snow descended upon Manchester, the strain was beginning to show slightly. No man should be in his shop on boxing day, staring into a back-room fridge, this much Gary knew. But still he stared.
The fridge was a lot emptier without the neat stacks of organic yoghurt it used to house, Gary noted as he pulled out the milk. He lingered on the thought a moment, aware for the first time in over a year that it actually unsettled him having such an empty fridge. Blinking slightly he shook his head. Christmas was a time of year that could mess with anyone’s head. He’d been doing so well before winter came along, so very well. Things hadn’t been the same but they hadn’t been all that bad and in many ways he felt he was doing better than he had in years. He wasn’t the arrogant little git he had been in his youth, much to his relief. But, reassuringly, he was no longer the self-pitying wreck he had become in later years. And he was having fewer bouts of either extreme – because, he had to admit, those traits in him flared up from time to time. With a sigh he poured the milk into his tea. He shouldn’t be here today, it was messing with his head. He was fine here normally, but being here at this time of year only served to remind him of how much had changed.
Replacing the milk on his way, he returned to the piano room, blowing tentatively on his tea. No biscuit today – one advantage of being alone over Christmas was that he didn’t have to break his diet, which he was doing rather well on, even if he did say so himself. He sat himself down at the baby-grand; the only piano that he still refused to sell. She’d been with him since he’d started this place and it would take all kinds of hell being brought upon him to convince him to part with her. He patted her fondly, gratefully, as he sipped his tea. The sun was just setting and an amber glow made its way between the snowflakes outside, falling across the shop floor and just touching Gary’s face as he turned on his piano stool.
He noticed it before his phone rang; something somewhere in the shop seemed to jump slightly, stirring with sleepy anticipation. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach too. His mobile was only forced to ring twice before he had whipped it from his pocket to examine the name lit up on the screen. He smiled.
“Jason Orange, as I live and breathe. I didn’t think you knew how to use a phone,” Gary’s tone was warmly mocking. The whole building strained to listen in on the conversation.
“I’ll hang up on you if you keep on giving me stick like this, I have my own life to live you know,” Jason’s voice was crackly and edged with bitten-back laughter.
“Hark at you! A Christmas card too much to ask was it?” Gary remarked. The pause told him Jason felt genuine guilt at the lack of an exchange of presents and cards this year.
“Howard’s busiest time of year this, I can’t be everywhere at once,” was the eventual reply. Gary would perhaps, in person, have been able to identify the slightly forced lightness in Jason’s words. But if he noticed it over the phone he said nothing.
“That where you were yesterday?” he asked with genuine interest.
“It was go with him or spend Christmas without him. My mum is furious with him for it all,” Jason admitted, this time a small smile was detectable in his voice.
“I don’t know how you’re coping Jay. Christmas isn’t Christmas without family, a bit of pudding and some bad telly,” Gary replied.
“What about your diet?” Jason questioned, his tone lightly teasing.
“Eh! I’m still on it! Just had a day off yesterday for the sake of my mum’s cooking. But seriously Jay, you are finding time to eat and sleep and...survive, aren’t you? I don’t want to sound like your mother here, but...” Gary pressed.
“I’m eating. And...sleeping sometimes...” Jason interrupted quietly. Gary nodded slowly.
“If you say so. Anyway, to what do I owe this honour?” he asked after a moment.
“You’re still my best mate Gaz. And it’s still sort-of Christmas. I just wanted to make sure you were ok,” Jason told him and Gary smiled.
“Check up on me more like!” he laughed.
“Well...you know...with Mark and...and me and Howard and...the time of year...” Jason trailed off.
“I’m fine Jay. Better for talking to you though – you’re still my best mate too, in case you were wondering,” Gary reassured him.
“Thanks Gaz. I should really get going again but...call me sometime? I really do miss us talking, you know?” Jason sighed.
“I know. Thanks for the call. Talk soon Jay,” Gary agreed quietly.
“Talk soon Gaz,” Jason responded, and with a click, he was gone. Gary could almost feel the building sag around him.
It took him a while to pull round after that. He knew he needed to go home. He knew that he needed to leave the shop. It was boxing day, he should be off somewhere having fun. But boxing day had always been reserved for himself and Jason. Mark and Howard too, in later years, but it had always been a time for friends. Dawn had invited him to spend the day with her, but he didn’t want to stand around awkwardly at a party full of her dancer friends – it was the sort of environment Jason might flourish in but Gary had altogether more relaxing ideas for how to spend holidays, mostly involving roaring fires and comfy sofas with blankets and, yes, pudding. Quite how he had translated that into a trip to check up on the shop he didn’t know. But it was strangely pleasant to be somewhere that held so many good memories and he savoured it. It was with mild sadness that he locked it behind him and walked back to his car. He had an errand to run before home, he reminded himself as he blew on his hands and dashed across the road.
The drive to Jason’s apartment was a slow one – the snowfall was heavy and the city was swamped with football traffic from the boxing day games that had taken place. Gary tapped on the steering wheel as the radio murmured away to itself. The news was being read out but Gary was uninterested, preoccupied with half an idea for a tune which he had stuck in his head. He should write it, he would write it...if he could only get a better grasp of it.
The traffic finally began to move a little more freely as he got further away from town and, reluctantly, he found himself pulling his head back, forcing himself to concentrate. Hearing from Jason had put him in an odd mood. He wasn’t sad, not exactly. But there was something he couldn’t shake that was close to sadness. The best word he could find for it was nostalgia. Nostalgia, or some form of it, had taken hold of him and changed his entire thought pattern for the day. Maybe talking to Jason had just been that bit too much of a reminder of all the things that were different now, something Gary was actually quite good at ignoring normally. Even Mark’s absence could be put aside, when Gary wanted it to be. And for a while he had wanted it to be, because putting it aside allowed him to concentrate on his own shortcomings, to try harder at being the person he wanted to be without the distraction of anyone else’s problems to hinder his progress. But it had been more than a year now. Jason’s faraway voice on the phone, Mark’s absence from the shop...it had been different before but was now becoming the same. In fact, it dawned on Gary with the softness of a snowflake melting on a fingertip, that was the problem. These things that had been so different and so far from what he was used to were the exact same things he had finally started taking for granted. He had never wanted – or expected – that to happen. With a shake of his head he turned off in the direction of Salford and tried to forget he’d ever realised it at all. But it is impossible to un-melt a snowflake.
Whatever will be will be, I suppose. Whatever happens just...happens. I can’t dictate what I want to be normal in my life, the only thing I can dictate is how I deal with it. And I will deal with it. And without the help of biscuits.
It had gone dark by the time he pulled up outside Jason’s apartment building, but there was still a steady fall of snow coming down. Gary muttered lightly to himself about cleaning windscreens and Manchester weather – he wasn’t really from this city, he was from near this city, he had every right to talk about it like some foreign country – before pulling his scarf a little tighter around him and opening the car door. A snowflake immediately whipped into his eye and he wondered why he’d ever left the comfort of his shop. Or indeed the warmth of his flat.
The glass windows of the apartment building were almost invisible in the dark but for the slight snow outline and the odd dim glow from inside one or two and as Gary peered up he realised Jason’s top-floor apartment was almost out of sight entirely...and yet, he was used to that now too. Something else that had once seemed so strange to him slowly becoming a fact of life. He let out a frustrated sigh, frustrated with himself more than anything, because he shouldn’t let himself dwell on any of these things, then pressed on with his mission.
The floor of the communal entryway was smeared with sludgy grey snow and Gary picked his way around it cautiously, distrusting of the combination of such slush with smooth flooring. The lift was probably the most sensible option, he surmised, casting a nervous glance at the stairs.
“Death-trap in this weather,” Gary mused to no one at all as he pressed the button for the lift.
Sifting through someone else’s mail was still something of a thrill to Gary’s mind. He entertained ideas of discovering Jason’s double-life, Howard’s secret Brazilian wife and three kids, some dark Orange family secret being divulged on the back of a postcard from Madagascar or Peru. But all he usually found were letters from distant cousins who never got Jason’s notes about the change of address, old bills in Howard’s name, junk mail for the two of them to share out equally. The most exciting things he had come across were the stray Christmas cards that had begun to arrive at the end of November. He only had to forward the important things but, for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, Gary had forwarded all those cards. Knowing Jason as he did he was sure the home-comfort would be something he would appreciate. Gary glanced at today’s haul; a catalogue addressed to Howard, a letter addressed to Jason and one more card addressed to both of them. Considering Gary hadn’t stopped by since mid-December, the collection was almost disappointing. Gary frowned slightly; maybe the abnormal was becoming normal to everyone these days and they were actually sending their mail to the correct address.
Stepping back into the lift he wondered what would happen to the glassy apartment and the belongings still left in it. Jason wouldn’t say, Howard knew the choice was not really his to make and Gary wouldn’t push it with either of them. He’d been given a key, told he could even spend time there if he liked. But it would feel odd to be in there without them; the place had belonged to them even before it had been theirs, Gary felt that although he couldn’t explain why. Besides, if he was honest, those big windows gave him vertigo when he stood too close. He didn’t know how Jason coped – he never professed to be a fan of heights and he hated flying and yet every day he woke up amidst the Manchester clouds. Or at least, he had done.
The lift stopped and Gary looked up in confusion, because it usually took forever to reach the ground after visiting Jason’s. Not the ground floor. A smiling face beamed back at him as the doors opened and the faintest jangle of earrings and bangles shimmered through the winter air.
“Hello Gary! Not seen your face here in a while; discovered Jason’s a cross-dressing spy from Alaska yet?” Amelia Davies’ feathery voice asked him as she stepped into the lift. He wondered why he had told her of his imaginings, he felt sure she was probably telling people at parties and they were all laughing at him behind his back.
‘I met this delightful madman today’ – she’ll say that, I bet. ‘Lovely fellow but, you won’t believe this, he thinks his best friend’s leading a double life! Comes now and then, checks his mail and mutters under his breath about spies and secret children. Oh Jason, darling, please stay in hiding a little longer sweetie, I so want to hear what he’ll say next.’ Although, you know what really is mad? That I think any of this at all. And why, in my head, is Jason in on this joke? He loves to tease but the man doesn’t have a cruel bone in his body.
“Sadly it’s all still duller than dishwater, Amelia. Jay is really no fun at all – he’s just good at making everyone think he is,” Gary smiled and Amelia laughed, shaking her head with another clack of her earrings. Her wild curls fell in her face and she looked so genuine that Gary almost felt bad for suspecting her of conspiracy at all.
Howard, on the other hand, he wouldn’t be above it would he? This is all a set-up by Howard. Yes, I can live with that.
“Oh don’t spoil the illusion! He’s such a dazzler Gary, I couldn’t ever imagine him boring me. I’ve lived in places like this all my life and never given a second thought to my neighbours...then I move into this place and see him coming up the stairs, I knew I’d picked the right place!” Amelia beamed.
“Until he moved out on you,” Gary pointed out quietly, more for his own benefit than hers.
“Yes, until then. I miss him and Howard, is that silly? I hardly saw them and I miss them,” she sighed back, just as the bell sounded for the lift’s safe arrival on the ground floor.
“See you later Amelia,” Gary smiled politely as he began to walk away.
“See you Gary, enjoy what’s left of the winter break! Oh! And tell those friends of yours to come back, would you? It’s not right them being gone,” she called after him.
Well, she said it not me.
Climbing back into the car it was time for the journey home. Home. It was a different home now, different to the one it had been before Jason and Howard had gone. He wasn’t sure why he’d moved, he’d just felt the time was right. Jason had helped him, as best he could. Gary sent him pictures of the flats he viewed and Jason offered what advice he could come up with. Which Gary had found more helpful than he’d been willing to admit. Until Jason had found his dream apartment in Salford he had spent a lot of his time moving from place to place and he knew all the right questions to ask estate agents. Something Gary had to acknowledge being hopeless at. In the end it was a recommendation from one of Jason’s siblings (a step-sibling, to be precise) that had brought Gary to his new home. Somewhere not too far away from the shop but not unbearably close to town, somewhere not quite as sleek as Jason and Howard’s apartment complex but not quite as run-down as his old flat. It was perfect really, he supposed, though there were things – there were people – he needed to complete it, if he was forced to be honest. Jason had managed to find the time to come back and help him move in, helping him pack things Mark had left behind and trying to prevent any breakdowns on Gary’s part. Gary was amazed to find, however, that he hadn’t even come close to a breakdown and Jason had smiled and told him that was more like the Gaz he knew; stronger, more solid...or rather...less emotionally turbulent. Mark’s things were now all stored in the tiny attic-space above the flat, waiting for him, just in case he hadn’t dropped off the face of the earth (although it rather seemed he had.) With much effort and a couple of emergency calls to burly family-friends of Jason’s, Gary’s small piano and large keyboards had been heaved up the stairs and squeezed into the spare room and, slowly but surely, the place had begun to look a lot more like somewhere Gary belonged. Eventually Jason left again and Gary, though sad to see him go, found that he was, dare he say it, feeling almost like he was actually content and, even better, in control.
Gary Barlow’s grown up – more streamlined, more stable. Everyone else’s rock! Not a git. Not a...a...crying...biscuity....lump. A positive pillar of society now, me! Almost grown up enough to look after Mark...to love Mark...certainly grown up enough to deserve a phone call. Just one would do. To let me know he’s alive. To let me know if he’s smiling properly again.
Chapter Two
The quiet twinkle of winter lights flickered with increasing brightness into the sharp night air as another fall of snow drifted in on the wind. There was a mist of light that hovered around the glassy buildings which streamed purple and amber lights back out in defence whilst smaller buildings clustered in glimmering groups below. Most streets were quiet – and icy – but the concentration of people got greater where the most lights were shimmering. The train station was cold and quiet, though large trains were still arriving carrying passengers from across Europe, bundled up against the dropping temperatures as they spilled out onto the platforms. What little traffic there was came largely from the airport and a few tired-looking taxi drivers lingered at the taxi-ranks, waiting to ferry people to Christmas parties and snowball fights at the expense of their own festive plans. For those lucky enough to live close to town, this was all visible from a top-floor window; all the glitter of venturing out without the freezing temperatures.
Their flat was one of the closer ones; the price they paid was a lack of space and more substantial rent but, as it saved a great deal of walking time, no one complained. It had been made as cosy as possible; a few potted plants adorned the windowsill, a few photographs were scattered at random in available spaces, a large throw cover decorated the sofa and the smells that often came from the kitchen late at night were tooth-achingly sweet. A television was blaring in the corner, loud, barked phrases that Jason didn’t understand but, nevertheless, paid attention to. Howard’s belongings were strewn across the coffee table, his bags standing in the hallway. Howard himself was tangled in a mixture of Jason’s limbs and the throw cover, watching Jason quietly as Jason watched the TV.
“I wish they didn’t speak so much German,” Jason mused softly, moving his head slightly so it was resting on Howard’s shoulder. Howard laughed and kissed Jason’s forehead.
“They probably wish you didn’t speak so much English,” he pointed out gently but Jason simply pulled a face.
“I don’t understand what they’re even trying to do,” he frowned, gesturing vaguely at the programme that was on as Monika entered the room behind them. She glanced at the screen.
“He’s trying to win some money I think – what programme is this?” she asked him.
“Don’t ask me!” Jason laughed.
“He’s trying to win some money, they’re always trying to win money on programmes like this,” she shrugged, disappearing towards the kitchen.
“There, are you happy now? Even the Germans don’t know what’s happening,” Howard smiled.
“They need to get some proper telly,” Jason grumbled softly but Howard simply wrapped his arms around him tighter and pulled him further down on the sofa. Monika shouted something back at Jason from the kitchen by way of retort and Howard grinned.
“You’re wasting your breath, he can’t understand you remember?” Howard told her blithely when she appeared in the doorway just as Jason slid down onto his chest and closed his eyes.
“Well in that case, I’ll just have to shout at you instead,” she beamed and Howard groaned.
“I only know enough to get around, Crystal started tearing her hair out when we got past the basics,” he insisted.
“Go on, translate,” Monika suggested with genuine interest, causing Jason to sit up and grin.
“Yeah, come on, translate,” he challenged. Howard thought a moment.
“Jason, beautiful Jason, to whom Germany is forever indebted, I apologise for my country’s severe bad manners. We must write to the appropriate authorities and alert them to your discontent immediately, your happiness is paramount to us all,” Howard reeled off, in as authoritative a voice as he could muster. Jason laughed quietly into Howard’s hoody and Monika smothered a smile.
“How did he do?” Jason asked her after a moment.
“Word perfect,” Monika nodded jokingly, turning on her heel and heading back towards her room.
As Monika disappeared from sight, Jason curled up tighter in Howard’s embrace and suddenly he looked very lost. He did to Howard anyway, because Howard knew him well enough to know these things. His blue eyes were narrowed slightly as he regarded the screen and Howard could see the thoughts dancing across them.
I brought him here.
Jason seemed to sense his gaze and he shifted against Howard slightly, looking up into his eyes and smiling faintly.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. Howard had been close to asking Jason the same question, but trying to answer it for himself was difficult. He wasn’t sure, he wasn’t even sure if anything was wrong. He didn’t feel like going to work tonight, but that was nothing new. It was something both he and Jason had silently acknowledged. Even Monika seemed to be in on their unspoken pact.
“Nothing. I just never enjoy leaving,” Howard explained with a heavy-hearted smile.
“Really? Coz you know, I just relish it when you leave,” Jason retorted with a roll of his eyes, his tease edged with only a little sadness.
“Come here,” Howard sighed, pulling Jason up until their faces were level. Jason’s blue eyes tried to look away from Howard’s but it was impossible this close. Howard kissed him, softly and only once, on the lips and put a hand to his cheek.
“What?” Jason said, almost pouting, his words huffed lightly.
“Love, please...” Howard almost laughed, trying to coax Jason back from the brink of a somewhat childish sulk. He could see something in Jason’s eyes flicker mischievously, as though daring him to try and salvage things.
“What?” Jason repeated, his voice a little softer this time, his eyes narrowed just slightly.
“Jason Thomas Orange will you stop fighting me and just listen?” Howard laughed.
“Only when you stop talking to me like my mother,” Jason challenged, almost breaking into a smile.
“Ok then; oi, gorgeous, will you stop glowering at the telly long enough to kiss my fucking face off,” Howard shot back. Jason’s expression wavered once more but he held firm.
“Your fucking face?” he questioned with emphasised scepticism.
“You heard me,” Howard stated simply. That was enough for Jason and he laughed softly, rolling his eyes. He pushed himself up on Howard’s chest, kneeling up to straddle his stomach and putting his hands gently either side of his face. Their eyes met and Jason smiled a faraway smile.
“Your fucking face it is then,” he sighed before bending down and capturing Howard’s lips with his own. Howard grinned into the kiss, closing his eyes and putting his hands on Jason’s hips, his thumbs hooking just beneath Jason’s shirt to stroke his skin slowly. Jason responded by deepening the kiss and Howard could feel Jason’s smile against his own. As they finally parted their eyes met and Howard sat up a little, propping himself up on his elbows, Jason’s hands still holding his face.
“You do realise, that’s exactly the reason why I’m going to be coming back as soon as I can, don’t you?” he asked and Jason rolled his eyes with reluctant playfulness.
“You only want me for my body,” he dismissed Howard softly, his eyes turning downwards. Howard reached up and touched his chin once and Jason’s gaze returned to his immediately.
“Hey, I mean it! Stop being a daft git; I love you,” Howard reminded him and Jason smiled a small smile, bending down to kiss Howard’s nose.
“Yeah well, you stop being a daft git that’s leaving me all the time,” he countered.
“Or how about ‘I love you too’?” Howard tried.
“Maybe,” Jason shrugged.
“I’ll take what I can get I think,” Howard smirked.
“You will and you’ll like it!” Jason added, the light suddenly back in his face. Howard chuckled, grabbing Jason’s shirt and pulling his lips back to his own.
“Er, not on my sofa thank you!” Monika’s voice interrupted and Jason laughed into Howard’s kiss.
“Fuck off,” Howard groaned at her and Monika laughed at him.
“How about no, Prince Charming? Goodness me, it’s like living with two teenagers,” she sighed.
“Excuse me! One teenager and one live-in maid!” Jason protested, gesturing at the immaculate flat.
“Agreed,” Monika nodded, winking at Jason.
“Sorry love,” Jason laughed at his pouting husband.
“I’m used to it,” Howard mumbled, pulling Jason slowly back towards him. Jason smiled at him, giving him a small kiss on the lips.
“I don’t want to spoil the moment boys but; have either of you seen my waistcoat?” Monika asked as Jason sat up again. Howard simply shrugged but Jason turned round, frowning slightly.
“Isn’t it on the back of your door? Hanging up? I ironed it for you...” he said and Monika blinked at him for a moment before turning around and disappearing once more.
“What’s happening? Why am I not being kissed?” Howard moaned from the sofa and Jason waved him away affectionately, still looking with concern in Monika’s direction. Shortly she reappeared, waistcoat in hand.
“Jay, you are a saint! Honestly, I think I should be paying you rent not the other way around!” she breathed warmly, slipping it on and fixing her name badge in place. Jason simply laughed before turning his head slightly and pointing to his cheek. Monika shook her head affectionately, coming over to the sofa and giving him a peck on the cheek.
“Thank you,” Jason nodded. Howard sat up and cleared his throat pointedly and Monika laughed, bending down to give him a kiss on the cheek too.
“You don’t deserve that, I’m sure you were of very little help,” she told him.
“I keep him happy and when he’s happy, he irons! I’m very deserving really,” Howard protested.
“Actually, you keep clubbers up and down Europe happy and leave me to fend for myself!” Jason interjected. Monika simply walked away from them, knowing better than to get involved.
“Jay I thought we’d been through this,” Howard groaned.
“I know, I know; you don’t want to go. Come on, one more kiss then I have to get ready for work,” Jason sighed and Howard obliged, pulling Jason into one last long kiss before letting him leave the sofa.
Maybe I shouldn’t have let go. Maybe he would rather I’d held on.
“Tie?” Monika called hopefully from her room as Jason passed by the open door.
“Didn’t touch it sorry,” Jason called back without stopping, leaning into his and Howard’s room and grabbing his own waistcoat from the bed.
“I’m going to get fired,” Monika lamented and Jason laughed as he pulled his waistcoat on.
“You say that every night,” he reminded her, heading back towards the lounge. He perched himself on the arm of the sofa, next to Howard’s head, and looked down at his still-sulking husband.
“Come on, make yourself useful and do my tie for me,” Jason said. Howard couldn’t help smiling slightly at that. He liked doing up Jason’s bowtie before work, for reasons he was incapable of explaining. Of course, he much preferred undoing it, but his opportunities to do that had been rare at best recently.
Things had been different. Why that was or when it had happened Howard wasn’t sure. At first he had put it down to the phone call with Gary – Jason had been off-balance ever since – but when he really thought about it he was sure that it had been going on for longer than that. An atmosphere always descended upon them when he had to go away, and given his busy schedule over the party season he half suspected that whatever was wrong with them had something to do with sleep deprivation. He studied Jason’s face as he slowly tied his tie.
Tired and lost and...thin? Maybe a little thin. Pale. Yes, pale.
Jason smiled up at him quietly, standing and giving him a small kiss on the cheek. He hooked his arms around Howard’s neck and laid his head against his chest. Howard pulled him as close as he could and they stood, holding each other in silence, snatching the rare moment of stillness together. Reluctantly Jason stepped back, reaching past Howard to pick up his name badge from the coffee table. He offered it to Howard and Howard laughed slightly before fixing it in place for him.
“What happened to the capable, independent man I married?” he chuckled.
“He submitted himself to you I think,” Jason remarked slightly distantly and Howard met his eyes.
“Jason Orange you almost sound like you’re going to miss me,” Howard sighed.
“I am,” Jason murmured. Howard looked at his face again.
Tired and lost. Maybe thin, definitely pale. Disappointed? Sad? I know, or I used to know, how to change that expression. How to turn it into something better, something more...more him. But tonight I’m too tired and too lost myself and that fucking hurts.
Howard pressed a kiss to Jason’s forehead, his hand squeezing Jason’s upper arm in a gesture of comfort before he turned from the embrace and went off in search of last-minute additions to his packing, passing Monika on the way. She looked back at him then turned and watched Jason, still standing where he had been before, a world away somewhere inside his own head. She took a step closer to him but he didn’t move, his eyes down on his hands, his fingers clasping and unclasping. The closer it got to time for Howard to go, the more Jason’s moods shifted. One moment he was all flirtation and attachment, putting every negative emotion aside so as to properly enjoy the time he snatched with Howard. Then moments later he was back to this again; not quite himself. She knew things, noticed things, that he and Howard probably didn’t. She noted it all down and, although she tried not to interfere, she tried to help. Jason was easier because Jason was around, Howard was hardly in the door before he was straight back out again. Part of her wanted to lock them both in and force them to see all the same things she saw. But another part of her realised that this was her home and locking herself out in the freezing Frankfurt weather was not really a good plan.
“I know what it’s like you know...being a long way from home,” she tried gently and Jason smiled, turning around slowly to look at her.
“It’s not that far,” he shrugged, flashing her one of his more dazzling smiles. But she wasn’t fooled; the smile was so far from reaching his eyes that, if pressed, she would judge it had barely reached his lips. But she nodded.
“True. And you’re in the best country in the world, so you’re getting a good deal,” she smiled back.
“The best?” Jason asked, raising an eyebrow, and Monika’s smile broadened.
“We’re both dressed for work now; I am officially your boss,” she reminded him.
“Ah. Well in that case, yes. My home country? Got nothing on yours,” he smirked.
“Good, just checking,” she replied, giving him a quick conspiratorial wink.
“Jay do you know where my phone charger is?” Howard’s voice echoed through the flat, interrupting the moment. Jason shook his head in despair, collapsing back down onto the sofa.
“Probably under the bed somewhere if you had it last,” Jason called back with a roll of his eyes and Monika laughed at him, shaking her head.
“Where would he be without you?” she said and Jason smiled tiredly.
“Still here. Just...without his phone charger,” he sighed. Monika pursed her lips at that but said nothing, instead she turned towards the kitchen.
“I’m going to make myself a quick sandwich before work, you want me to get you one?” she asked him but Jason shook his head.
“Not hungry, but thank you,” Jason replied. She nodded slowly and walked away.
Ten minutes later, with Jason and Howard once more locked in a silent embrace as Monika sat awkwardly on the sofa eating her sandwich, the flat’s intercom buzzed and Monika was quick to jump up, glad of the distraction. Jason and Howard both turned as she pressed the button, a growly German voice crackling over the speaker. The voice barked something at Monika and Monika gave as good as she got, some sort of bargain in rushed German ensuing that Howard couldn’t follow and Jason didn’t try to.
“Sorry Howard but that’s your taxi driver. You’ve got five more minutes before he drives off without you...oh, and I think he hates foreigners so...try and act local!” Monika informed them as the voice finally stopped. Howard groaned and leant his forehead to Jason’s but Jason smiled mischievously.
“So you’re saying if I keep Howard kissing me for six minutes, he’ll have no taxi to the airport?” he asked and Monika smiled at him.
“Pretty much – but six minutes? That would be a record even for you pair,” she remarked.
“I bet you I could keep Howard kissing me for six minutes, the man’s easy,” Jason laughed.
“Er, still in the room! And I’m not easy!” Howard sulked causing Monika to stifle a smirk.
“Not easy?!” she half-spluttered and Jason looked up at Howard with glittering eyes.
“You are so easy,” he assured his husband, pressing a single kiss to his lips.
“When it comes to you maybe,” Howard conceded reluctantly.
“Three minutes,” Monika cut in.
“You’re really leaving me then?” Jason asked Howard. Howard sighed and cupped Jason’s cheek in his hand.
“Leaving you? No. Going to work? Yes,” he murmured, kissing Jason’s forehead.
“I love you,” Jason told him.
“I’ll miss you,” Howard assured him quietly. They held the gaze a moment longer, then, with Jason giving Howard’s palm a parting kiss, Howard took a step back, gathering up his luggage and leaving the flat, trying not to look at Jason as he went.
It was a whole minute after Howard had gone before Jason moved, turning slowly and looking at the closed door.
“You know, I can’t keep doing this...” he whispered. Monika’s brow creased in concern.
“Jay...” she began but Jason was already taking a step towards the door.
“I’ve got to go,” he said hurriedly but Monika folded her arms.
“Leaving me on my own?! I thought you were a gentleman! Anyway, where are you going exactly?” she challenged. Jason paused, his shoulders slowly sagging and the urgency ebbing out of him.
“To burn down the airport?” he suggested, all the fight now gone from his voice.
“Without a coat on? No way,” Monika insisted and Jason couldn’t help but laugh.
“Yeah, coz that’s the biggest flaw in my plan,” he smiled lopsidedly, rubbing a hand over his face. Monika watched him carefully before offering out her arms.
“Hug?” she suggested and Jason smiled.
“Oh definitely a hug,” he agreed, his longer arms completely engulfing her. She gave him a gentle squeeze then pulled back.
“Come on, work will take your mind off it,” she said, turning to grab their coats and scarves before shepherding him out of the door.
Chapter Three
The sun was low in the sky and the whole house was still beneath a blanket of amber. There was a peace – to this part of the country and to this time of the morning – that he enjoyed. Manchester wasn’t like this, everything was bigger there, more hectic. From the bedroom window he could see the frost-edged fields that stretched down to the stadium, where stewards in their florescent jackets could already be seen, spreading grit and shovelling snow, as the incinerator churned out smoke into the morning air. It was a nice view, in its own way. He supposed some people objected to the incinerator, he knew his housemate was far more scathing of the clear view to the stadium than anything else. But Mark liked it. He liked to watch the people walking across the fields whenever there was a game – he was going to miss that today. With a small sigh he turned his eyes back down to his boots, tugging at the laces once more. He rethreaded them and began to pull them back into shape, a lock of chestnut hair falling across his face just as a soft knock came on the door.
“Brew,” a muffled voice followed up before the door was opened and Mark looked up with a bright smile as Robbie came into the room.
“Morning Rob,” he said, taking the mug into his hands and blowing on it.
“Morning Markie, how’s the packing going?” Robbie sighed, his eyes not on Mark but on the scene outside. Mark laughed softly and shook his head.
“Are you glaring at those stewards?” he chuckled, taking a sip of his tea and looking up at Robbie.
“I can’t help it Markie, that’s enemy territory that,” Robbie smiled.
“Get a different house then,” Mark shrugged.
“This one’s good for work. Anyway, I thought you were supposed to be leaving today...this room looks like your suitcase just exploded,” Robbie remarked and Mark glanced around.
“It is a bit of a mess I s’pose,” he agreed slowly, running his hand through his hair. Robbie smiled at him and sat down next to him on the bed.
“Don’t want to go?” he asked gently. Mark thought a moment, looking down into his tea.
“I don’t know Rob...it’s just hard, I guess. Going back, seeing people and...admitting you screwed up I guess. I’ve enjoyed it here so much as well...” he admitted quietly.
“Don’t go then,” Robbie suggested and Mark laughed.
“Don’t go?!” he smiled, looking over at Robbie, whose serious expression didn’t alter.
“Why not? Stay here, I don’t mind, as long as you keep chipping in for the extra milk and help me draw the curtains when those flaming Stoke fans come up the paths after they win,” he replied, Mark rolled his eyes fondly, putting his mug down on the floor and returning to lacing up his boot.
“I’ve got to go back Rob, you know I have,” he said quietly and Rob nodded but didn’t reply.
It had been a long time to be away. Longer than Mark had ever imagined it would be. In that time he’d put himself at the mercy of more friends than he could count. He’d visited Emma, gone on holiday with Jamie, lost touch with Jason, gone back to his mum, tired to forget Gary, visited his siblings, remembered Gary, explored the possibilities of the Lake District and then finally, when every other option had been considered, gone to London where he had found, mostly by accident, Robbie Williams, in the process of packing up and heading back to Stoke. Mark had tagged along and, for the past three months, the two of them had worked shifts in a restaurant at Trentham Gardens, having heart-to-heart sessions and watching TV in their spare time. Much tea was consumed and Gary’s name was rarely mentioned. Jason came up in conversation once and Robbie had, to Mark’s surprise, expressed great interest in the story of Jason’s life, which Mark had shared with a smile on his face, something inside him feeling that talking about him was almost as good as getting back in touch with him. But he knew that his time in this house was over; it wasn’t his home, he was just a guest. He had a home somewhere but it wasn’t here.
“He really means a lot to you doesn’t he?” Robbie asked into the stillness.
“I fucked up Rob, I fucked up and I’m never going to be able to just get on with life without explaining it to him. I’ve screwed him and Jay and Howard around so much, I can’t keep doing that to them, especially not him. I have to go back...I owe him that much,” Mark murmured and Robbie nodded once more.
“You want some help packing then?” he offered and Mark smiled.
“Help with packing would be good,” he agreed, taking his mug in his hand once more and drinking down a substantial gulp.
“You sure you’re ready for this?” Robbie pressed, watching him carefully.
“I’ve been a daft bastard...such a daft bastard. After everything? I don’t think it’s about what I want anymore,” Mark replied.
“Ready or not, here you come,” Robbie suggested with a smile.
“Something like that,” Mark chuckled.
A year is a long time. I don’t know if this is the right thing anymore. There’s a million reasons why it could have changed. But I can’t change my mind now.
“What’s this?” Robbie’s voice was strangely soft and Mark looked up. They hadn’t been packing long but they were making good progress, working from opposite ends of the room until they met in the middle, where the suitcase was lying open on the bed. Robbie was in the farthest corner and Mark knelt up to peer across at what he was holding. A picture frame.
“Oh...that’s...that’s me and the lads...” Mark said, looking away slightly guiltily. Robbie was sitting cross-legged on the floor now, the photograph frame in his lap.
“Oh,” he said simply, his voice distant.
“Rob it’s just...it’s just home comfort, you know?” Mark sighed, standing slowly and crossing the room, joining Robbie in the corner before sitting down again. He too stared down at the picture. It was a while since he’d taken the time to actually look at it – the frame had come with him everywhere but, after a certain amount of time away had passed, Mark began to rely on it a lot less. The picture the frame held had long been one of Mark’s favourites. It had been taken on Jason’s birthday, late on in the day when it was only the most important people left at the party. The four of them were stood together, all eyes on Jason. Howard’s face was creased into a self-consciously adoring smile, hands in pockets, his eyes alight with amusement. Mark himself was stood with his back almost entirely to camera, half bent over, his laugh obvious as he tilted his head in profile, hair falling in his face. Gary was next to him, laughing that belly-laugh of his, mouth wide open, eyebrows raised, some conspiratorial look just about to be exchanged with Mark, some witty comment so obviously about to be made. And then there was Jason, looking more carefree than he usually did, champagne flute in one hand, eyes turned in Howard’s direction. He was striking some sort of exaggerated pose – perhaps even dancing, Mark couldn’t remember exactly – and was clearly making fun of himself in that humble way he was so good at, grinning broadly the entire time. Mark couldn’t say what it was he liked so much about the shot – the candidness was something he loved, because it caught them off guard and un-posed (and goodness knows they could be a bunch of posers when they wanted to be) but Mark felt it was more than that.
“I’ve always wanted that,” Robbie’s voice interrupted Mark’s thoughts and almost made him jump.
“What?” Mark frowned and Robbie glanced up at him with a sad smile.
“To be part of a team,” he explained.
Have I really been away so long that I forgot that? What one does affects everyone else, Jay told me that. So then...what did I do to them? God, what have I done...
There was little symmetry or unity or in the picture. In fact, not one of them was touching the other with so much as a fingertip, wide spaces between the four of them as they laughed. Maybe that was why Mark missed it at first. But there was something, some sort of cohesion. They didn’t need to touch for that. And it was so obvious, now Mark thought about it, that they were in their own private universe when they got laughing like that. Would anyone else have understood that Jason wasn’t just some arrogant poser showing off, he was a master of self-deprecation. Would anyone else have had a single notion that the wry remark on the tip of Gary’s tongue was not, in fact, a genuine insult to Jason, but actually teasing routed firmly in admiration? Probably not. But would they guess the four were the closest sort of team there could be? Definitely. That there was immense affection there? Well, that couldn’t be denied. Mark smiled faintly as a vague echo of laughter rung round in his head. There had always been such safety in numbers.
“You look left or right and they’re always there, like a confidence boost, you know? I should’ve...I should’ve missed that more,” Mark sighed. Robbie put the frame down and looked over at Mark.
“Maybe you did, maybe that’s why you brought the picture,” he suggested.
“Maybe,” Mark agreed, uncertain. Robbie looked down then.
“I’ve never really cut it at teams, not in the past anyway. Maybe I’d be ok now, maybe I wouldn’t. But I know I could never do it before. I was too focused on me, you know? I wanted what I wanted for myself and I wanted it right then and there. I wanted recognition for me and that drove me forwards and drove others away,” Robbie was thinking aloud but Mark was used to that. As he listened he couldn’t hold back a fond smile.
“Gaz is a bit like that...sometimes, not always. Jay says he used to be worse. Actually, you know, you two have got a lot in common,” he mused and Robbie laughed slightly in disbelief.
“Me and him?!” he pressed and Mark nodded.
“You both have this fire in your bellies. It’s good, sometimes. But other times you let that be all there is, you forget there’s other people around you getting burnt,” he insisted.
“So we’re both screwed then?” Robbie asked.
“No. You’ve grown up. I think Gaz probably has too. You’re both good people...and all good people are a little bit messed up somewhere. There’s no such thing as a perfect person, we all hurt other people and ourselves and we all make mistakes. It’s how we come out of it that defines us. And Gaz will come out of it shining, I know he will. You too,” Mark promised softly. Robbie smiled a faint smile, his eyes scanning Mark’s face.
“And so will you,” he replied. Mark smiled back at him, offering out his arms. Robbie accepted the gesture and let Mark hook his arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.
By the time Mark was ready to leave Trentham behind, the first fans were beginning to arrive for the boxing day match, walking along the street at the front of the house and turning down a pathway that would take them across the fields. Mark watched them from the window for a little while, not entirely ready to go. He liked it when the crowd started to get thicker, the occasional chant going up and the sound of portable radios being brought out for team news. There was something about the lively debates that drifted up from the street before and after every game that made Mark feel at home. Camaraderie, laughter.
It’s like that at the shop sometimes. Banter and arguments and understanding. Spirited debate, that’s what Gaz calls it.
When he got downstairs he found Robbie attacking a microwaveable meal with a fork, the radio on in the background blasting out a song which Robbie was absently singing along to. Robbie was only freed from his trance when Mark’s voice turned the moment into a duet. As the song came to an end, Mark was standing next to Robbie at the counter and Robbie let out a long sigh, looking at Mark’s packed bags. They both knew it was time for Mark to go, they did. But there were some good memories that had been made in this house and it seemed a shame to be packing them away.
“Friends still?” Mark asked and Robbie smiled a genuine smile.
“Always Markie...I don’t mean to sound like a drama queen but...you’re pretty much all I’ve got,” he replied. Mark looked at him a moment before giving him another hug.
“Come to Manchester sometime,” he offered.
“You definitely setting back up there then?” Robbie asked, his interest real.
“One way or another. I need to be back there – Jay and Howard are still my mates and Gaz...I will always want him in my life, just like I’ll always want you in my life. Besides, I want to work at the caff again, that’s reason to go back if nothing else,” Mark shrugged, looking down at his hands.
“He’s a nutter if he doesn’t at least hear you out Markie,” Robbie said gently, placing a hand on Mark’s shoulder. Mark sighed, slowly meeting his eyes.
“Maybe I was a nutter to go away like I did though,” Mark countered.
“Markie, you couldn’t have kept it up...you need to be a grown up to be in love. Maybe the pair of you weren’t quite grown up enough?” Robbie said. Mark looked up at him in amazement.
“You know Rob, you’re pretty fucking special for someone who thinks he’s so fucking shit,” he smiled. Robbie shrugged and looked away.
“Always been my problem Markie...or one of my problems. I don’t see me the way other people see me. I presume failure all of the time...which for someone who’s always trying to be something more than what he is, is really not a good thing,” he sighed.
“You’re more than what you think you are...and I think that’s a fucking great thing,” Mark told him softly and it was his turn to squeeze Robbie’s arm. There was a pause, a moment of quiet interrupted only by the radio and the sound of two people trying to outdo each other in absurd match predictions outside. As ’10-2’ was declared laughingly in the street, Robbie cleared his throat.
“You’re going to miss your train,” he pointed out to Mark in a strained voice.
“Yeah...and my taxi’s still waiting outside. Stay safe for me Rob, ok?” Mark pleaded and Robbie forced a smile, nodding slowly and looking over at Mark as he picked up his bags.
“I’ll try Markie...say hi to Jason and Howard for me...they were kind to me before...” Robbie murmured and Mark nodded stiffly.
“See you Rob,” he said.
“Bye Markie...good luck working out what happens next,” Robbie called as Mark walked away.
When Mark was stepping off the train at Manchester, the full-time scores were just coming in and Mark listened in as people traded scorelines with each other. Stoke had won – Robbie would be wincing back in Trentham, all the curtains would be closed tonight, with the telly on full volume too, Mark thought with a smile, feeling a wave of nostalgia for his and Robbie’s weekend routines hit him, almost knocking him into someone’s suitcase. One or two early-leavers from the Manchester matches were already starting to arrive on the station’s concourse and Mark slipped quickly in between them, hoping to avoid the crush that would soon descend. Pulling his bags behind him and bobbing up and down, he could just about make out the familiar exit and he headed towards it purposefully. It was only when he got to it that he realised his mistake.
I don’t have a home here anymore...I have a hotel to go to...on the other side of Manchester.
The hotel was not the most glamorous Mark had ever been in, but it was far from the worst. It would get him by until...until what? He had no idea. His life in Manchester hadn’t been put on pause whilst he’d gone off to fix himself, no one’s life here had. Things would have changed in his absence. He had hardly kept in touch with Jason and Howard and hadn’t even attempted to contact Gary; for all he knew the shop could’ve gone bust and they all could have skipped town, or even the country. Mark’s stomach lurched at the thought and for a moment he debated rushing into the bathroom, sure that the nausea he felt was going to get the better of him. But he took a deep breath and it eased a little. Life had gone on without him. It was a fact he had often returned to. The world hadn’t stopped turning just because he’d made a mistake, it had carried on regardless and now he had no way of knowing if anything in Manchester was the way he remembered it. He felt like a tourist in his own life – he ran through a list of places he should go and look for Gary and then thought better of it. He had no right to just turn up in front of Gary and start trying to justify what he’d done. He could try finding Jason or Howard, but his issue had never been with either of them.
I chose to go. I could’ve stayed in touch at least, I could’ve stuck around. But I chose to leave. This is my mess. I said I had to learn, I said I had to work out my mistakes and I did, I’m not going to make them again. I’m shit scared, everything feels different, I don’t want to have to talk any of this out but I’m going to have to. I'm facing up to it all this time, remember? Fighting whatever battles need to be fought to make it right. You can’t run forever. Fucking cliché but it’s true.
It was going dark when he ventured out again. He got a taxi to Oldham Street and stood outside the shop. He was amazed it was still standing. Something was off-balance but he couldn’t place it; he looked around the shop’s red and gold exterior, studying the gold lettering and the window display and noting the quirky angle of the closed sign on the door. As he stepped closer to try and peer inside, he noticed the kitchen light had been left on and he couldn’t resist trying his luck, digging around in his pocket for the key – he hadn’t thrown it away, of course he hadn’t. He was startled when the door opened.
I don’t know why but...I just thought they’d change the locks. Guess they can’t hate me too much. Unless they’ve just...forgotten I exist.
Stepping inside he could feel the whole building let out a long-held breath and the floorboards creaked welcomingly under his weight. It was strangely familiar to him. He had been so sure it wouldn’t have felt that way, the it wouldn’t be his home anymore. Quickly and quietly he went through to the kitchen, pausing in the doorway before he turned off the light. The blue mug was sitting in the sink, half-washed. Jason’s mug...but how very un-Jason for the mug not to be washed properly and put away. Mark frowned. Different. That word again. Unsettled by it he quickly flicked off the light, hurrying back out and locking up again before climbing back into the taxi, apologising profusely to the driver for the delay.
Back to the hotel. I can’t tell the difference between then and now at the hotel.
So here he was. No plans, no certainties. The only knowledge he had was that the shop was still there, and, judging from the kitchen, still being run by Gary, Jason and Howard. Although why had Jason given up on tidying? Had Howard finally broken him down in Mark’s absence? That seemed a ridiculous idea, because Mark knew all too well how much Jason relished challenging Howard at everything. It didn’t make sense to him. But then, nothing did. Things felt like they had shifted but he had no evidence to say they had, just something about the way the building had felt as he’d walked through. However much it unnerved him to think of it, he tried to focus on it. Because if he didn’t then he would be left alone with thoughts of Gary, agonising over what to say and how to say it.
Would Gary even want me to be back here? A year is a long time. He might’ve realised by now, he might’ve moved on by now. But haven’t I moved on too...isn’t that exactly what I came here to tell him?
He tried to sleep but no position on the bed was comfortable and he began to question whether the whole of Manchester was trying to tell him something. His place here was gone, changed by his mistakes. The damage was made irreparable when he had left. Maybe he was unforgiveable, maybe he’d used up his quota of mistakes for a lifetime and would be punished with a nomadic soul that couldn’t cope with being back in a place of such homeliness. He had only left for his own sake, no one else’s, surely. How could it have been for anyone else’s good? Jason’s words were the ones which haunted him the most. One person’s choices affect us all. He’d said that a long time ago in a discussion about something entirely separate but still Mark knew it was true, because Jason didn’t say things he didn’t honestly believe. They had been close, so close that even the smallest change could mean change for all. He had left in an act of self-preservation.
But self-preservation was no excuse, not if I changed their course as well as my own. Self-preservation for me could so easily have meant self-destruction for any one of them.
Gary. His only truly clear thought. After all, it had been Jason’s mug in the sink and no biscuits had been packed upon the shelves. Gary was gone, Mark realised with complete clarity. Gary was gone and it was Mark who had destroyed him.
And if Gary is gone and I drove him out...then I have to go too. And I can’t ever come back again.
Chapter Four
“Christ, it’s freezing out here! Honestly, this country,” Jason muttered as he and Monika descended the stairs and emerged into the Frankfurt night. She rolled her eyes at him fondly, closing the door behind her and coming to join him on the pavement.
“Man up would you! Anyone would think you lived in the tropics,” she teased, giving him a slight nudge before starting off in the direction of the city centre.
“Manchester is the tropics compared to Frankfurt,” Jason called after her.
“Will you stop whining and get over here – I almost broke my neck just then! Watch for that ice there,” Monika told him and he chuckled.
“Oh is that right?” he inquired and Monika, now holding her arms out wide for balance, simply whimpered, glancing over her shoulder at him and almost slipping again.
“Jay, I’m going to die,” she cried out as Jason stepped casually up beside her. She straightened up and looked at him pleadingly. Smiling he rolled his blue eyes, which were suddenly full of life and twinkle once more.
“Oh Moni, man up would you!” he teased softly, putting an arm around her shoulders as he did so and giving her a firm squeeze before linking their arms. She leant on him gratefully.
“I am so firing you once you’ve guided me safely into work,” she sighed, her head falling on his shoulder as he tugged her gently in the right direction.
“Fair enough,” he replied amicably, casually catching her as she slipped on another patch of ice.
The Alte Oper was a majestic structure and, though dwarfed by the city’s more modern buildings, it was one of the finest places to be in winter, lit up bright against the coldness of the night, an ice rink outside it and glittering blue Christmas lights all round. A good number of people were out again tonight, buzzing about the concert hall, some waiting for the night’s show and others enjoying an evening skate before going to dinner. Large Christmas trees stood outside the main entrance, smaller ones sitting in the arches on the building’s facade. Everything seemed to shimmer slightly and, amidst all the modernity of Frankfurt, the theatre seemed almost magical in its style, the ruins of it having been rebuilt after the war with great reverence to the structure it had been before. The inscription on the building’s frieze was the only full sentence of German which Jason knew; to the true, the beautiful, the good. Something in those words enchanted him.
Imagine if you could collect all the true, the beautiful and the good of the world. Who and what exactly would make the cut? Would I be there? My friends? My family? Or perhaps it is a building for a race of people that has long since disappeared. Maybe people were better in 1880. Maybe they were beautiful and true and good and didn’t make mistakes.
They were early. Monika wasn’t surprised, she’d pushed Jason out of the flat so fast that even she had struggled to catch her breath. She hadn’t wanted to leave him standing there, thinking himself into endless traps and bordering on moping. Even after she had hampered their progress through every stretch of ice between their front door and the Alte Oper there was still time to be killed before she was required to open up and boss the other ushers around. She could see some of the crew for the night’s show, disappearing towards the back of the building, heading for the stage door. She debated following them, it couldn’t hurt to keep tabs on them, it was part of her job to make sure the casts and crews that visited their concert hall did not destroy the place, but one glance at Jason and she knew he wasn’t quite ready to start chasing lighting technicians and conductors up and down the place.
“You want to go in?” Jason asked her as they neared the crowds.
“Still a while yet...come on, let’s watch the skaters,” she suggested.
“You do know they’re not likely to be figure-skating round the rink?” Jason pointed out.
“Oh shush you, it’s something to do!” she sighed, elbowing him gently in the ribs.
“Eh, I’m going to let you fall on your backside on this ice in a minute if you don’t start being nicer to me,” he warned her, though he didn’t show any signs of letting her go.
They found a spot at the edge of the rink, both leaning on the railing which surrounded it as they gazed at the glittery winter scene before them. Jason’s eyes reflected the lights but had lost most of their own, he was too tired or too lost in his thoughts to shine for himself.
“You’re not fooling me you know,” Monika told him softly. Jason had been so far away that he almost jumped at the words, blinking at her slightly.
“I didn’t know I was trying to,” he replied and she smiled.
“You’re always trying to fool everybody,” she said wisely. Jason looked away.
“You’re playing mind-games on me Monika,” he sighed.
“What, you mean like the ones you play on everyone else? And no, I’m not actually,” Monika frowned. Jason had to look back at her then, he folded his arms and turned his back to the skaters, leaning against the railings, his gaze still scanning across Monika’s face.
“You really think I actually want to kid anyone into thinking something about me that isn’t true?” he asked her slowly and, she noted, with a little guilt, he sounded hurt.
“No...but I think you want to make it true that you’re ok...so whilst you try and make it true, you want to make sure no one works out that you’re not ok,” she explained. Jason looked down at the floor then and she was relieved that he seemed to have understood her.
“I have been happy here...I am happy here,” he murmured at the floor. Monika smiled.
“Would you mind telling your face that?” she teased gently and Jason glanced up at her with a small smirk, rolling his eyes.
“Oh, now I’m talking you want to tease me?” he retorted.
“I just miss you smiling,” she told him honestly.
“I smile plenty,” Jason shot back and Monika simply shrugged.
“If you say so. But come on, are you actually trying to tell me you smile as much here as you did back home?” she challenged. Jason groaned, rubbing his hands over his face.
“This is home,” he said through his hands.
“Jay...look, I get it, you know? My old job was in an exotic country and I had amazing friends and it was a nice experience. But nothing could make it Germany, nothing could make it where I came from. And as much as I love my country, I know it can’t be home to everyone. I know Howard feels some connection here but...but it’s not the same for you, if you’re honest, is it?” Monika put a gentle hand on Jason’s arm and slowly he lowered his hands enough to look at her from the corner of his eye. She smiled hopefully and finally he dropped his hands completely, letting out a long breath.
“I’m a fucking Mancunian, you lot are all flipping foreign to me and...and I think that’s making me start to lose my mind. Or lose myself. Or...just lose,” he admitted quietly. As if to enforce his statement the cacophony of German voices around them seemed to swell, almost drowning him out.
“What do you want to do about it?” she asked at last.
“Deal with it? I don’t know. Deal with it seems the best strategy. I had to leave...circumstances just...aligned I suppose. I knew before that phone call...we all knew,” he murmured and she nodded.
“Gary said...or...he implied...” she began, but she faltered and glanced away.
“The shop is his and the Oper is mine and let’s just leave it at that, you know? If that’s what’s best then why should I mess with it?” Jason shrugged. Monika nodded slowly.
“Is it what’s best?” she tried carefully. Jason smiled a distant smile and shook his head.
“Monika...you don’t know what it was like...the change, the atmosphere. I was scared to stay and scared to go and in the end I just chose the lesser of two evils. And somewhere along the way I found out that being here isn’t so bad and now I just think it should be left at that, you know what I mean?” he said and Monika wasn’t sure what to make of that. She knew both versions of this story; Jason’s and Gary’s. She knew both outcomes and she had a vague understanding of the causes as had been outlined to her. But as much as they urged her to she couldn’t quite manage to take their word for it. She could only really judge on what she’d seen for herself and what she had seen of late made her want to push for as much information from Jason as she could. He was honest, he would tell her eventually and she knew that – and she suspected he knew that she knew – but it was obvious that he felt things were better left alone. But for tonight she knew she had to stop; Jason was running on empty as it was and she didn’t have the heart to make things any worse.
“Ok. Well, in that case, we have work to do. You up to it?” she suggested and Jason smiled, a thank you was somewhere in his eyes as he nodded slowly.
“Always,” he agreed.
There are reasons I left. Of course there are reasons I left. Why we left, rather. And they’re the same reasons I can’t go back. We can’t go back. Emphasis on ‘we’ really. We could not stay there and we cannot go back.
The two wound their way through the backstage corridors – Monika trying to find out from various crew members whether they were likely to start on time tonight whilst Jason daydreamed silently – until eventually they reached the foyer, a grand, cavernous space where their footsteps echoed loudly. Later this place would take on a new warmth, when people started to gather around the bars and the Christmas trees and the rest of the front-of-house team finally decided to put in an appearance. One lone usher was sitting on the bar, talking – well, flirting – with the barman. Both were wearing their uniforms (smart red waistcoats with gold buttons, name badges and embroidery, paired with black trousers and bowties) but Jason didn’t recognise either of them. Monika muttered darkly in his ear that they were temps drafted in to help with the season’s workload with no real need to work hard and certainly no incentive to obey her. Jason smirked softly but did not reply, casting one last glance at the flirting pair before following Monika in the direction of the ticket office. The ticket office was, in fact, an anteroom of the foyer, slightly less grand but somehow more cavernous, its furniture sparse but for the ticket office booth itself and one or two strategically placed stands bearing ‘What’s On’ leaflets in five different languages. There was a bench – a large, uncomfortable, wooden monstrosity that Jason had never seen anyone sit on – to one side and Monika hastily dumped her coat and scarf on it before making her way around to the back of the booth, dropping her keys three or four times before finally managing to let herself in. As she fiddled with the keys, Jason took the time to fold their coats and scarves and put them down more neatly on the bench before coming to join her in the ticket booth just as she attempted to turn on the computer.
“It’s colder in here than it is out there,” Monika sighed, rubbing her arms slightly and looking around the booth for some form of heater but finding nothing. She put the temperature down to the emptiness of the room and flopped down into the office chair, hitting the computer’s power button for a second time in an attempt to coax it into life.
“Maria called in sick again?” Jason enquired, ignoring her shivering. Monika visibly grimaced and Jason had to work very hard to bite back his smirk.
“She called me this morning. She knows that I know she isn’t sick. And if she is then it’s only because she will have spent all Christmas drinking,” she muttered and Jason smiled, coming to sit on the desk by the computer and folding his arms.
“Pot meet kettle; we spent all Christmas drinking too,” he pointed out.
“Ah, but we still came into work...to do her job as well as ours! Now, can you please tell me what is wrong with this thing?!” Monika demanded in frustration, hitting the computer slightly. Jason glanced down at the computer and shrugged.
“I don’t know, is it definitely plugged in?” he tried and Monika shot him a withering look.
“I’m German not daft,” she told him, making him laugh slightly.
“You nationality has nothing to do with it, I was just wondering if it was definitely on!” he said, putting his hands up to surrender. Monika had stopped paying attention, choosing instead to start hitting random computer keys.
“It’s plugged in and it’s not working! And why? Why on the day when there is no way on earth we will be able to ring up any of the tech-maintenance guys!” she was talking mostly to herself now, alternating between shaking the computer’s monitor and hitting whatever buttons she could find.
“One or two should be around for the show though shouldn’t they?” Jason frowned but Monika waved a dismissive hand at him.
“Chance would be a find thing; holiday shows never go to plan because everyone with any sense skives off except me, because I’m head usher, so they all think I can do all their jobs for them, but that is not what I am trained for! I am trained to boss them around and bark at them over the little in-ear things; making the little in-ear things the only bit of technology I can actually deal with! If Maria were here, she might know what to do, but she’s not and now we are going to have no idea how many seats we have booked tonight and we won’t be able to sell any of the remaining tickets because the seating plan can’t be printed out...” Monika was talking very quickly and Jason wasn’t sure whether it was right to interrupt her. He waved a timid hand to try and get a word in but Monika had already turned back to the computer and was hitting keys and cursing in angry German.
“Please don’t descend into German, I’m leaving if you descend into German,” Jason pleaded.
“It’s my language!” Monika protested, letting her forehead drop onto the keyboard with a thud.
“I know...but it’s so angry. And you’re quite frightening enough when things like this happen, without you adding German into the mix,” Jason chuckled gently. Monika looked up at him from her keyboard-pillow.
“What less-angry language would you rather I swore in then?” she asked and Jason shrugged.
“Surprise me,” he suggested. Monika thought a moment then sat up and looked directly at the computer, pursing her lips briefly in thought and letting out a short breath.
“Fucking switch on you bastard piece of shit!” she let out suddenly and then looked back at Jason for approval. Jason laughed and nodded.
“Nice, spoken like a proper Mancunian girl,” he nodded.
“Sounded just as angry to me, and a little bit rougher around the edges! But, each to their own. Anyway, none of this matters because we still haven’t got a seating chart!” Monika reminded him.
“You know what you need? You need Howard. He can coax pretty much any piece of technology into life,” Jason said slowly, looking at the computer thoughtfully then looking back to Monika.
“No, I think you are the one who needs Howard,” she said softly, her eyes narrowed slightly. Jason sucked in a breath and looked away, suddenly stony-faced.
“I don’t ‘need’ Howard,” he muttered quietly. Monika frowned, confused for a moment, before realisation set in. She looked at Jason with kind eyes, wheeling her chair a little closer to him.
“Is that what all this is about?” she asked gently, putting her hand on his arm. But Jason pulled his arm swiftly away and refused to look at her.
“What all what is about?” he asked her with unconvincing confusion and Monika simply looked at him, her hand still hovering where it had been before he moved. She slowly let her hand drop back to her lap as the two of them sat in silence. She still watched him thoughtfully, but she chose not to say anything more.
Monika chose instead to study his face carefully. Living with Howard and Jason she had found herself with the opportunity that many never would; the opportunity to really look at them. It was ridiculous really; she’d heard of theories that beautiful people always found each other but she had never given it much notice until these two men had arrived on her doorstep. Neither one of them was as devastatingly handsome as they made you feel they were. Don’t misunderstand, both of them were undeniably beautiful, and perhaps in their younger years they had possessed the ability to break hearts with a look, but they were not that kind of obvious that so many muscle-men and movie-stars were. Both had bright blue eyes (Howard’s startling and mischievous, Jason’s piercing and twinkly), both had strong jawlines and were tall and broad-shouldered and charming. But neither one of them exuded that Leading Man quality casting directors would look for. The two of them were a little more subtle than that; it wasn’t always about those blue eyes, it was about how they looked with those eyes. It wasn’t the jawline, it was the way they would casually rub a hand across it with tired disregard. It was about the way in which their expressions were so clearly distinguishable. She hadn’t know them long, but she could identify certain smiles with ease. With a small smile of her own into the silence she took a breath and ventured a return to conversation.
“Do you want to know something that I’m fairly sure you will have been told a thousand times before?” she asked. The question took Jason by surprise and the discontent instantly vanished from his face. With a reluctant smile he rubbed a hand over his eyes and sighed, looking over at her at last. She smiled back at him and he shrugged.
“Go on then,” he agreed.
“Your eyes change colour when you mention him. Nothing major just...a lighter blue. It’s a little bit like you just stepped out into some sunlight or something. I think it’s a million times better than anything I’ve read in any novel,” Monika told him, tilting her head on one side and watching as a shy smile touched Jason’s lips. He looked away, laughing slightly as his eyes slowly went to his hands.
“Well, you do have a lot of books,” he murmured and Monika smiled.
“Exactly, so I must know what I’m talking about,” she replied. Jason slowly looked back at her, the smile still on his lips.
“My mum says it too,” he said and Monika laughed gently.
“Well she definitely knows what she’s talking about then,” she beamed.
“Y’think?” he joked.
“Just a bit,” Monika agreed.
“Yeah well...I have actually heard it before. Although I think you’ve maybe phrased it the best,” Jason sighed, stretching slightly, his eyes suddenly very thoughtful.
“See, us Germans aren’t as scary as we sound,” Monika smiled and Jason chuckled.
“Keep telling yourself that. But...you’re still right. I think I’ve been hearing it ever since I met him. In fact I know I have. Mostly from my mum, but everyone says it in one way or another, that they just knew he had arrived before I told them I’d found him, that sort of thing anyway. In fact, you know, my mum said to me when I married him, she said ‘You know I could probably find you a hundred better men, with fewer flaws, with less baggage, maybe a bit better looking though that would be difficult...but I don’t think I could find anyone that makes your eyes shine that way, a way that I have never seen before him, your own mother and I’ve never seen it, and that’s all that really counts’ – my dad proceeded to tell me something along the lines of ‘He’s a bit of a tit but I think he’s good for you’ which was a lot less poetic but still sweet in its own way. Anyway, I guess that’s why I fight so hard to be ok, coz I know I’ve got more than enough reason to be ok, you know what I mean?” Jason’s voice was so soft, a warmth in it that Monika put down to a mixture of gratitude and affection.
“That’s sweet,” she told him.
“Still better than those novels?” he asked mischievously and Monika laughed.
“It’s like living in a romantic comedy, seriously. Now, when you’re quite finished being mushy, I think Simon might be able to help us with this monstrosity,” she said, gesturing vaguely at the computer before grabbing Jason’s hand and pulling him off in the direction of the staff room.
Everyone tells me that except Howard. Does Howard even notice these things?
It wasn’t until the computer fiasco had been sorted that Jason knew what exactly his job would be for the evening. Due to his ineptitude with the German language, Jason’s primary role at the concert hall was usually to deal with foreign visitors. Although most of the ushers spoke perfectly good English (except for perpetually angry Charlotte, who seemed to barely speak any form of German that people could understand, never mind any other languages) Jason’s role was justified largely as being a preventative strike against broken-English speaking Spaniards encountering broken-English speaking ushers and unleashing havoc.
Once the seating plan had finally reached Monika’s hands, Jason found himself being chivvied in the direction of the highest concentration of foreign bookings; as the Christmas concert was deemed such a grand occasion, there was actually a good contingent of foreigners, so many, in fact, that Monika had deemed it necessary to source a small sticker of a British flag to add to the bottom of Jason’s name badge.
“Oh sure, like I don’t already feel like the odd one out!” he’d protested weakly, but Monika was in work-mode and she waved him off before marching in the direction of the still-flirting temps to give them an earful. Jason hovered near the programme sellers (the fairly friendly, if slightly mad, Lucas and the sweet, giggly Emily) and tried not to get in anyone’s way. Tonight was going to be long and busy and he was already looking forward to getting home. He watched as Monika and Simon moved over to the large doors of the main entrance, unbolting them slowly before Monika fished out a keyring and went to each door individually to unlock them.
I guess that means it’s show time.
As expected, the chaos was extensive and not a single usher had chance to catch their breath. Monika was almost out of voice trying to keep everything in check over their ear pieces; at one point half the show’s crew went missing and the ushers were on standby to take control of the sound and lighting desks. Jason had been busy too; he had had to help two Danes find the toilets, a Frenchman find his wife, a British child find his parents, a large group of Russians (a first for him all year) find their VIP section and then several dozen others of varying nationalities find their seats. By the time he got home he was ready to sleep for a year, but he knew they had to do it all again tomorrow night. Monika muttered something about always picking professions that deprived her of sleep before she disappeared into the kitchen and Jason was so tired he merely yawned in response, heading to the bedroom and flopping down onto the bed. It was so tempting just to fall asleep that way – stretched out diagonally across the space. Howard wasn’t there, after all, and, though the advantages to that were few, the extra space in bed was one Jason clung to. But he knew he shouldn’t sleep in his uniform. And, in any case, Howard had promised to phone after he got done in Berlin and Jason suspected Crystal would hold him to that.
At some point he dozed off by accident – he’d managed to get as far as taking his bowtie off and unbuttoning his shirt before collapsing, which he decided was quite an achievement all things considered – and it was a gentle knock on the bedroom door which awoke him. He opened one eye and leant up slightly just as Monika put her head around the door.
“Interesting look you’re going for,” she smiled, nodding to his half-undressed state.
“They’re coming to shoot my calendar later,” Jason murmured back sleepily, rubbing his eyes, and Monika smirked, shouldering the door a little wider open and coming into the room bearing two mugs of hot chocolate. She handed one to Jason and he sat up, taking hold of it gratefully.
“I thought you could use some, I know I need it after tonight!” she shrugged, sipping her own. Jason smiled back in thanks, curling his hands around the mug and letting the steam hit his face.
“Mm, cheers. I have to say, you Germans do know how to do winter,” he sighed, taking a sip.
“So that’s why you’re still here,” Monika teased, perching on the edge of the bed. Jason looked down into his drink and nodded slowly.
“Absolutely. It’s why tonight didn’t prompt my resignation too,” he added playfully.
“Really? God, tonight prompted mine. You’re new head usher; good luck!” Monika laughed.
“Don’t even joke,” Jason grimaced tiredly though his eyes danced with a dash of mischief.
“So, any idea when Howard’s going to call?” Monika asked him and Jason shrugged.
“Whenever it suits him,” he replied.
“Just go to sleep Jay, he can leave a message,” Monika suggested but Jason shook his head.
“It’ll make no difference, I’ll only start worrying about him and then I won’t get to sleep anyway so I might as well just stay up,” he dismissed and Monika sighed.
“Well if you’re staying up will you at least have something to eat?” she tried but Jason shook his head once more, sipping his hot chocolate.
“No, I can’t eat this late it would be silly. No, I’ll be fine. Just save me a bit of toast in the morning,” he said and Monika rolled her eyes.
“Like I’ll actually be up before you,” she smirked and Jason smiled.
“Might be; depends how late my husband calls me,” he replied.
“I have complete confidence in you Orange. Now, I’m off to get some sleep – you sure you’re ok staying up on your own?” Monika asked him, getting up off the bed and heading towards the door.
“Course,” Jason nodded with a smile and, blowing him a kiss goodnight, Monika left the room.
Course I’ll be ok staying up on my own. That’s pretty much what I do with my life now, isn’t it?
Chapter Five
Waking up in a hotel bed on anything other than a holiday is, and always has been to Mark, a sensation he was far from comfortable with. In fact he would go as far as to say everything about it was uncomfortable. It was not through any fault of the hotel, of course, and Mark would never think of blaming them for it. It was his fault, just like many things these days seemed to be. The duvet didn’t cover him properly and the sun came under the curtains at the wrong angle and the world was turned on a peculiar axis by the unnatural plumpness of the pillows – and why was that? Because he didn’t fit. He was the wrong shape; too small, too alone. It was all just a reminder of his solitude. Of his homelessness. An extension of his newfound ability to belong nowhere. He’d had to force himself to stay here last night; the only reason he hadn’t gone? He had nowhere to go to.
Slowly, reluctantly, he opened his eyes and let it all sink in. A chink of Manchester sunlight was beginning to creep under the curtains and it hurt the backs of his eyes so he rolled over slightly, very conscious of how spacious the bed was. He had managed to avoid double beds for the majority of his year away and he didn’t appreciate the vast expanse that his small frame was utterly incapable of making any less empty. He stuck a tentative arm out from under the duvet and grabbed his phone off the bedside table, pulling it quickly under the duvet with him and squinting at the screen. One new text message. From Robbie. ‘U seen him yet?’ was all it said, and Mark knew who Robbie meant. There was really only one unnamed ‘him’ between the two of them. ‘No, went 2 look at the shop but no1 there. Think Jay had been in though’ Mark fired off a text back and then burrowed even further down into the duvet. He needn’t come out really, surely. His phone buzzed against his cheek and he opened his eyes again. ‘No1 at shop? Weird. You called him?’ – Mark smiled guiltily.
Come on Rob, you know the answer to that.
Mark took a deep breath and sent off his reply; ‘Couldn’t do it. Scared shitless. Going 2 shop again 2day. Hope just Jay will b there.’ Robbie’s reply was all but instant this time ‘U have 2 c him sometime Markie. Good luck x’ and Mark shook his head and whimpered. Robbie was right. What was the world coming to if he needed Robbie Williams to tell him to suck it up and do the thing he didn’t want to do? He didn’t want to be a grown up, he didn’t want to deal with all this.
But I’m not going to feel normal, to feel right, if I just keep avoiding it.
He pushed himself up in the bed and sat there a moment, blinking. He remembered last night, creeping into the shop and it all seeming so familiar and yet so...so wrong at the same time. It wasn’t that he had felt he didn’t belong there, not quite as powerfully as he usually felt he didn’t belong everywhere else anyway. But it had been something else. Something was different about the place. Something about Jason’s mug being left in the sink. As absurd as it sounded, that bothered him. Why was Jason there on his own, for a start, where were Howard and, more importantly, Gary? And if it really was Jason who had left it, why had he not washed up? What was so wrong that Jason didn’t care about that sort of thing anymore? On the other hand, it could have been someone else, using Jason’s mug for convenience or...or something. But they’d had a system and breaking that seemed wrong to Mark’s mind. The image played on his mind too long and he had to get off the bed to try and distract himself.
He pulled the curtains back and stared down at Manchester. It wasn’t springing to life, as such. More...stumbling. But it was somehow comforting to see all those people down below. It made him feel marginally less alone, for a little while at least. Maybe that wasn’t his problem though, maybe he could actually cope a lot better with being alone if he knew first that he had done everything that needed to be done. It is a lot easier to be alone with oneself when one knows that all one’s mistakes have been atoned for in some way.
He went through his morning routine with an unnatural calmness and an uncharacteristic lack of spring. Even in the darkest times he had a certain amount of bounce in his step, largely because of the jerky, puppet-like way he naturally moved. But today he was oddly still, placid even. The fear, he supposed, was doing strange things to him and he needed to distract himself somehow. He finished brushing his teeth and began to choose his outfit.
As if it matters.
Jeans and cardigans and scarves were spread across the room by the time he was pulling on his boots, rethreading the laces yet again. It took three attempts before he had done them up right. He put his hands on his knees and he looked at the mess. And then he saw it; his guitar case. A small smile crept onto his lips as he took it in hand. He knew what he needed to do to calm himself.
He still knew Manchester’s streets well. He knew where the nearest coffee shop was to his hotel and he stopped there for caffeine and breakfast before springing into action once more, a new life in his eyes. Busking had always served his confidence so well in the past. And goodness knew his confidence needed something today. He could only afford an hour, an hour and a half at most, but he had to do it. He would never face up to the shop today if he didn’t do this first. He’d been moments away from returning to the duvet until he’d remembered his guitar.
And there is nothing grown up about hiding under the covers.
But, for all his confidence building, when the moment came he still wanted to run. He paused outside every cafe and shop between there and Oldham Street, wondering if he could justify going inside to while away an hour or three. But he knew he couldn’t; there was no use to it. And he would have to go to Oldham Street sometime in any case, how else was he intending on begging for his old job back? He couldn’t go back to working on that street without addressing the real issues that lay there. Even just smoothing things over with Jason would be a start at least, it might reassure him that talking to Gary would be a bearable experience, that Gary would be ok and wouldn’t throw him straight out. Jason had always been good at reassurance, Mark had missed that.
He wouldn’t lie to me though. If Gary’s made me dead to him, Jay will tell me. And he won’t sugar-coat it to try and help me swallow it. Am I really ready for his honesty?
Barlow’s was still standing, the front window framed in snow. For some reason Mark had half-expected the place to have fallen down overnight; it had felt so forlorn yesterday, like the floorboards were aching to just crumble into dust. But maybe he’d imagined that, maybe he was the forlorn one. And he may well crumble to dust after today. He clenched and unclenched his fists a few times, sucking in deep breaths – he was amazed icicles weren’t forming on his lungs. The open sign was turned around; someone was in. Mark swallowed and looked up and down the street, half-expecting Howard or Jason to appear, wrapped up tightly against the elements, probably whistling away to themselves or lost in headphones. But the street was practically deserted. First working day back after Christmas, people were probably refusing to leave their homes until the new year arrived.
His legs seemed to want to move independently of his body and, quite without his permission, they moved stiffly out into the road. He crossed as though he were crossing marshland and his progress was slow, every other part of his body trying to drag his legs back. His heart was clattering against his ribs and he almost wanted to tell it to shush, terrified it was so loud it could be heard inside the shop. The kitchen light was on again, Mark could see through the door. With a ragged breath he placed his hand on the glass and pushed the door open. The shop bell jangled harshly in the stillness and the sound of it was made him realise what his heart was trying to tell him.
I think I was wrong. I don’t want to know the truth today.
Chapter Six
Jason slowly opened his eyes, instantly feeling a dull ache in his left arm and very aware of the numbness in his left hand; he so hated falling asleep before he meant to. Sleep was an issue for him at the best of times, without it waging war on his limbs. He unfolded himself slightly, blinking against the dim morning light that was coming in through the bedroom window. Snow was falling yet again outside and he groaned quietly before rolling onto his back and searching the bed for what had become of his phone. He found it underneath him, the screen covered in smudges. He remembered now; he had fallen asleep waiting for Howard to call. Howard hadn’t called in the end, however at Stupid A.M. a text had come through explaining that he’d had to take over after another DJ pulled out at the last minute. He’d promised to call in the morning some time, but whether that was actually morning or just when Howard woke up, Jason hadn’t been sure. He reread the text and sighed, knowing that he had yet more waiting around to do.
When exactly did I become that guy?
Slowly he pushed himself up in the bed, peeling the duvet off him with a grimace. He was too hot – it was snowing outside and he was too hot. Absurdity. But if he was going to venture out then he would need something more than his pyjamas. He edged himself off the bed and rummaged around beneath it for a moment, eventually pulling out a hoody of Howard’s. There was always at least one lying around somewhere and Jason smiled slightly as he pulled it over his head, a waft of Howard’s shampoo engulfing him briefly. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to make his brain wake up. Last night had been exhausting, and yet still he woke up at eight just like every other morning.
God knows how I’m even still functioning.
Slowly he got to his feet, shuffling out of the bedroom and down the hall towards the kitchen, careful not to make too much noise. He searched the cupboards to see what exactly was left of their big pre-Christmas shop and yet again he wished he had stayed in bed. There was nothing. Or rather, what there was wasn’t exactly appealing. They had plenty of chocolate, stacked in fancy boxes with gift-labels and bows still attached, but he couldn’t quite justify chocolate for breakfast. He opened the fridge and stared inside. No yoghurt left but there was a little milk and some eggs; if Howard were here he would make pancakes and maybe have one or two himself as an indulgence. But Howard was in Berlin and Monika was in bed and there was no real excuse for him to start cooking. With resignation he opened the breadbin and fished out a few slices of bread, sliding them into the toaster and stifling a yawn. Mornings never used to be this hard for him. At home he would wake up slowly as the sun rose and pull round quickly once it was high enough. And then there had been their routine. He’d enjoyed it all so much; he would wake up and cook, Howard would wake up and shower, Grace would wake up and moan about school, he would feed the pair of them then head off to the shop whilst Howard took Grace to school. Simplicity. Now he never knew what to expect when he woke up; planes to be caught, trains to be met, ticket office staff to be covered for, last minute bookings to be driven to and no one’s routine crossing over with anyone else’s. Complicated, quiet and unpredictable.
He finished preparing his toast in silence, still careful of avoiding disturbing Monika’s sleep, watching his phone closely, on edge waiting for it to light up.
Howard not providing me with any definite timescale; some things never change.
He took up his plate and his phone and moved over to the living room window, peering down at the deserted street below. The snow was thick outside now, but there was something he didn’t trust about the Christmas card image in front of him. No one really lived in the scenes on Christmas cards. The only people ever in those pictures were stuck there, trapped inside endless stillness. It was beautiful, he supposed, but essentially lifeless. He was about to turn away from the window when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Putting the piece of toast he was holding back down on his plate, he fished out his phone and trapped it between his shoulder and his ear. He didn’t need to look at the screen; Howard was almost the only person who called him these days.
That should bother me more.
“Mornin’ love,” Howard’s voice was croaky. Jason could hear the mixture of cigarette smoke, alcohol and sleep deprivation that lined Howard’s words and he smiled slightly sadly.
“Morning...you sound like you had a rough one,” he sighed. He wouldn’t bring up the cigarettes, he hadn’t in a long time. Precisely when Howard had started smoking again Jason couldn’t be sure, but he knew it had been a long time now. He wasn’t sure if Howard realised he knew but he didn’t care because he didn’t have the energy to fight over it. And it would be a fight, he felt sure of that.
“Long night. I’m getting paid double for covering though. Anyway, how was your night? Many foreigners around to keep you busy?” Howard enquired through a long yawn.
“More than I’ve had at any other show, boxing day concerts are a big deal I guess but I think this year’s has been the biggest. I even had a few Brits. Not from Manchester mind, but it was nice to feel a bit of home around, you know?” Jason told him quietly.
Nice for the few minutes I was actually talking to them anyway. And then when they were gone I realised I would have been better off without the reminder.
“Look, I know you’re not going to like this but...I might not make my flight tonight. Crystal’s looking into whether the train might be a better option but...but if not, if the gig overruns or anything, I’ll book for tomorrow and then call you straight away. I’ll be back for New Year’s Eve though I promise,” Howard explained quickly and Jason pursed his lips.
“You’ll be back because you have a gig on New Year’s Eve you mean,” he remarked, though there was little emotion in his voice.
“Jay...” Howard pleaded softly but Jason just closed his eyes.
“It’s fine. Look, you need some more sleep. I’ll see you soon, yeah? Love you,” he sighed.
“Love you too,” Howard said back quietly.
Jason hung up. For a moment he stood by the window, his eyes glazed. He was still looking out but he wasn’t seeing. And, oddly for him, he wasn’t thinking much either. Or feeling. There was no anger, not towards Howard anyway. Blinking slightly he turned around, putting his phone down on the table next to his untouched breakfast and then heading for the door. Unflinchingly he grabbed his coat and scarf and he wrenched open the door, so entirely free of thought that he didn’t even remember to let it close softly behind him.
Monika jumped awake when she heard the slam, frowning in confusion and rubbing her eyes. Slowly she climbed out of bed and went over to the bedroom window. She got there just in time to see him descend the front steps and walk out alone into the frozen morning and she couldn’t help but be concerned. He didn’t seem angry or distressed, but it didn’t take a genius to work out that something was wrong with Jason storming from the house at this hour in the morning.
Jason himself wasn’t sure what he was doing, he was moving thoughtlessly through the snow, eyes down on the pavement. He was felt he might be taking himself to the train station but he couldn’t be sure and he couldn’t say why because he had no urge to catch a train. The cold was biting at his cheeks and a sharp breeze was propelling snowflakes into his face. He had made the mistake of forgetting to button his coat and so Howard’s hoody was blown flat against his ribs, almost producing an outline of each one. He pulled the coat around him tighter and pressed on, only able to latch on to one small train of thought.
When did I become that guy? When did I become that guy?
Chapter Seven
Gary trudged down Oldham Street, convinced he was the only man left in all Manchester. He had hardly seen another soul on his way to work. His footprints were the only ones in the snow on Oldham Street and no other shop appeared to be open. Even the drunkard who could usually be found on the front steps of The Castle Inn wasn’t there. Today was a working day, that’s why he was here anyway. But he supposed that other people were with their families and partners, snuggled down in beds that weren’t too big for them. No one in their right mind would come shopping today. Well, not for anything that wasn’t essential anyway. They might venture out for more milk or bread or teabags, but it seemed somewhat unlikely that anyone would be in desperate need of a clarinet or a rare jazz LP. Still, work got him out of the flat. He loved his new flat, he really did, but everything echoed in there. And it was far too tidy. He wasn’t the neatest person in the world but he didn’t tend to live in chaos. Not when he was on his own anyway. He had never thought he would miss clothes, guitars and used mugs so much. He had, after much deliberation, put it down the fact that the mess had always served as a much-appreciated reminder that he was not alone. If you’re tidying up after somebody, no matter how much you are aware of the wastage of your time, you know that somebody has been there. Now the only person he ever had a reminder of was himself, and tidying up his own messes was a lot less fun.
Life lesson that. And I’m not just talking about having to wash a few dishes.
He dug around in his pockets, trying to find where he had put his keys. That was another thing; he missed not having the reassurance that, if he had been so foolish as to misplace, forget or lose his keys to the shop, there was someone who he could phone for back-up. Three people, in fact. But three had been whittled down to just him. Responsibility. In many ways he relished it; being so in charge was exhilarating, made him more sure of his choices, convinced him he was plotting the right course for his life. But the downside was that, when he had finished ordering himself, he had no one to tell the good news to or share the positive results with.
He let himself into the shop, rubbing his hands together slightly. It was even cold inside now, this was ridiculous. But he still took off his coat and scarf and hung them up.
It’ll get warmer as the day goes on. I should know, I paid the heating bill. Who needs Jay, eh?
The shop was quiet today. Well, it was quiet every day but, for some reason, Gary was convinced this silence was one he hadn’t heard before. And over the past year he had learnt every kind of silence these walls had to offer. It was as though the shop was holding its breath, as if it was nervous he would notice something wrong with it, something out of place or broken. Gary stood by the stairs a moment, turning and surveying the space. He couldn’t see anything wrong. There was still a layer of dust on every instrument, there were still rings from mugs of tea left behind on the stairs. Everything was just the right amount of shabby and he couldn’t see a single thing wrong with it so he continued to the back room. Then he saw it. His pianos were fine, thankfully, but the kitchen light was off. He was sure he’d left it on – he’d remembered that fact last night when he had gotten halfway home. He had turned it on just before he left, checking to see if he had left his keys in there. He hadn’t, they’d been in his coat, but he had been so concerned about what he’d done with his keys that he hadn’t turned the light off afterwards. Frowning, Gary went and stood in the kitchen doorway.
Bulb must’ve gone.
He flicked the switch and the light came on and he couldn’t quite hide his surprise. The shop seemed to be straining even harder now. But he didn’t know what it was he was supposed to make of this. He’d not left the light on, obviously, that was all. No more Jason around the place now, no one coming in before him in the morning and straightening the place out, so however he left the shop is how the shop stayed. And that was made all the more obvious by the blue mug still sitting in the sink. Gary sighed.
I used Jay’s mug yesterday didn’t I. Not the first time...but maybe it should be the last.
He couldn’t explain why he was so suddenly overcome by guilt. He’d used all their mugs. At first he had actually done it on purpose – his small act of revenge on them all for leaving. It didn’t mean anything. There was just no need for colour coding now was there, not with just him here on his own. But still he stared at the mug sitting in the sink. It seemed cruel somehow. It had been a small quirk of the friendship between the four of them, hadn’t it? That they all had little roles to fulfil, that they had each had a part to play based upon their unique skills and character quirks...and that had been acknowledged, in a way, through their labelling system. Gary moved to the sink and rinsed the mug though, still turning the thought over in his head. There was no excuse for being this put out by a mug.
But it is the end of an era. It’s symbolic of the end of an era. And it doesn’t matter how long an era is over for, if you have good memories of it then you’re always going to miss it when something gives you the excuse to.
Washing up done, Gary turned to make his tea for the day. At first he very deliberately reached for his own mug; bold and red and kept at the very top of the mug tree. But then he stopped. Maybe it would be a step backwards to let it get to him, to start paying attention to these little changes again. He had, after all, managed to get himself into a frame of mind where it didn’t bother him. It was exactly as he had realised last night; the different things had morphed into normal and now it was what used to be normal which would actually be a bigger change. Swallowing, he reached for the yellow mug. That was defiance for the universe to see; Mark’s mug. The was somehow even more symbolic than if he had used Howard and Jason’s mugs simultaneously. The building didn’t seem to approve and a floorboard groaned loudly underneath him.
What does it matter anyway?
He busied himself with the kettle then.
Ignore the irrational; buildings can’t judge you, mugs can’t alter the course of your life and the only thing you can trust is tea.
He focused more than was necessary on the teabags and needlessly washed his teaspoon as he waited for the kettle to boil. The urge for a biscuit was strong and he wondered if it was too early to start snacking; he eyed up the biscuit tin thoughtfully, debating nipping out to restock it. But no, if he started eating now he wouldn’t stop all day. He patted his stomach self-consciously, smoothing his shirt across it and nodding to himself. He had more resolve than that, he was Gary Barlow, perseverance personified. The kettle boiling pulled him out of the moment and he rolled his eyes at himself, turning back to the task at hand with mild embarrassment. And that was when he heard it.
Bloody hell, I forgot how loud that bell could be.
The clatter was immense in the stillness of the shop and Gary narrowly avoided spilling scalding water on his hand – something he was very glad of, he needed that hand to play piano. Fussing slightly, pulling at kitchen towel and flustering with the mug, he turned his head just slightly. He couldn’t hear the floorboards creaking but given all his clattering in the kitchen he wasn’t surprised. Customers were rare this early, and this early at this time of year was almost unheard of, so he hoped he hadn’t scared them away.
“I’ll be through to you in a minute,” he shouted over his shoulder, still mopping up spilt water with kitchen towel, wrinkling his nose as the paper started to disintegrate on his fingers. But no reply came so Gary let his shoulder sag slightly and went back to his tea.
Stuff it, let them come find me back here. I’ll let them use Jason’s mug. Maybe we’ll hit it off. Maybe we’ll smash up all their mugs. I’m past caring about the past. I’m drinking my tea from the yellow mug and I don’t even care – how exactly can the universe punish me for it anyway?
Chapter Eight
Howard stood on Crystal’s tiny Berlin balcony, looking at the frost-encrusted city before him. He took a long drag on his cigarette and sighed. He’d tried hard to get back to sleep after calling Jason, but nothing had worked. Crystal had offered him her bed rather than the sofa, but still he couldn’t get his brain to close off. He leant on the balcony’s railing and shook his head; he had a long day today, even longer if he couldn’t get back to Jason as he had planned to, and he really could have used the rest. He could always use the rest these days.
Funny really, I never imagined rest would be the problem. In fact, I think that was part of the point.
He stubbed out his cigarette and for a moment he felt a pulse of guilt pass through him, just as it always did. He never felt it when he lit up or as he smoked, always at the end. At first he would try and shake it off but now he let it run through him until it reached his fingertips, shivering slightly before letting it disappear once more. He didn’t know if Jason knew. He supposed he must, Jason was astute, especially when it came to him. But neither one of them said anything and so, in Howard’s mind, every cigarette was still a small betrayal, in a way. Not a drastic one, not a life shattering one. But enough to know he had to feel the guilt; feeling the guilt proved to him that he wasn’t losing grip, it told him he still cared and still knew Jason as well as he should. A small part of him enjoyed it, he came to expect it now. He waited for the sting of it in his little finger and when it was gone he would flex out the fingers on both hands and sigh.
Berlin was stuttering into life and the sound of cars and voices mingled loudly, somehow amplified by the cold. The view from Crystal’s tiny apartment was actually pretty impressive; it was beautiful, in a cityscape sort of a way. It was strangely dissimilar from Manchester though – he supposed this was an obvious thing to think, Berlin was not only a capital city, but a capital city in a different country entirely. But still it always surprised him. Once, not all that long ago, he hadn’t really noticed their differences. He could blur cities together with ease; Manchester was always home, it was always where he came from and nothing could feel quite as important to him as that. That was just a subtle difference though, an afterthought he had had once or twice. Berlin has always seemed similarly familiar though, he had enjoyed looking at it just as much, maybe more. Now it was different, it was harder to pick out the similarities. He loved it, he loved all of it. Germany had always had a certain hold over him. The only thing he could really say had changed was him; after all, though Germany was as ever-changing as any country it still kept hold of what made it Germany.
But I’ve not lost what makes me Howard, I know that I can’t have changed that much. I’m older, I suppose. And Germany still has...something over me. The only thing is...does Jay have more of a hold over me? Maybe he does. Well no, not maybe. He does. And he deserves to.
Howard was instantly overcome with a pang of longing that hit him square in the chest. His breastbone tingled. It was a little like being stung by a jellyfish, or at least how he imagined that would feel. He knew Jason was putting a brave face on things but the truth was they would both be devastated if Howard didn’t manage to get back tonight. It was the first time in a long time that they would have had that sort of time together; he didn’t have any more bookings until New Year, the first let-up since the festive period had begun. Howard closed his eyes and thought, very seriously, about skipping out on his gig that night. But he couldn’t do it; you start behaving like that and all the reputation you’ve worked hard to build up for yourself gets lost in no time.
I love Jay, so much. Much more than my work. But we have to live.
He reached for his cigarettes. His hand hovered over them a minute. He wasn’t sure adding more guilt to the top of his mood was a good plan, but he needed another cigarette. He picked up his lighter instead, choosing to watch the flame. The minimal heat it provided was actually refreshing amidst the winter air. He wondered if he should phone Jason again, but that might make Jason feel even worse. And that would make Howard want a cigarette even more. And if Jason found out that would make him worse still and then Howard would need another cig...it was a vicious cycle and he didn’t want to start it. One cigarette now was, perhaps, better than twenty cigarettes and a fight with Jason later. He lit one and for a moment he was aware of his fingers’ loose grip over it. It was almost as though they wanted no part in his deceit, as if they were waiting to drop the cigarette over the balcony down into the snow.
What, and set the city on fire? Don’t be a daft bastard.
He heard the screen door slide open and Crystal stepped out to join him. She looked at the cigarette in his hand and her lips twitched slightly in suppressed disapproval but she didn’t say anything. She leant on the railing next to him and he smiled at her distantly before looking back down at the city below. For a moment the clatter of the capital seemed to lull and Howard was suddenly aware of how raspy his breath was becoming in the icy air. His fingers were freezing too.
No wonder I’m not gripping my cigarettes; it’s not some cosmic sign, you git, it’s fucking freezing out here.
He wasn’t sure how long it was before Crystal softly patted his arm and disappeared back inside without a word. He felt her absence keenly though and he shivered as she closed the screen door behind her. Alone again he had time to bask in the strange suspended state everything had this high up. Down below everything rattled and clunked like crazy, but up here on the balcony nothing moved. Strangely, there wasn’t even a breeze or a snowflake to disturb the air. There was just him, puffing out smoke and shivering alone. It was a strange divide and he couldn’t work it out; was the divide between high up and low down, or was the divide between where he was and where the rest of the world was? He thought of Jason again and quickly stubbed out his cigarette.
And there’s the guilt again. For the smoking, I mean.
He stood a moment longer, poised to turn away but somehow unable to move. Moving would mean setting in motion all the plans for the day. The gig that was starting later than he realised and the plane that was leaving earlier than he wanted it to and the train timetable that didn’t seem to match up with anything. Crystal was still working on it, but he wasn’t hopeful.
But surely I could sit on a cold station platform if it was for Jay’s sake?
He pushed himself up off the railing and picked up his cigarettes and his lighter. In an attack of weakness he almost got out yet another cigarette, but he knew he had to get his head straight. Especially if he did get home tonight; he couldn’t smoke like this around Jay, even if Jay did know he was smoking again. It was one thing knowing, it was another thing watching your long-absent husband skip out on you during some much-longed-for together-time for the sake of a quick fag.
I will get home tonight. I will get home tonight and we’ll get back to normal again when the season is over. It’s all this bloody season. But I will get home tonight.
Chapter Nine
When Gary turned on his heel and headed back into the piano room he took a large gulp of his tea, fully expecting to be able to swallow it without spitting half of it straight back out on his shirt whilst choking on the other half. But it wasn’t the first time in his life that Gary had had his expectations dashed by reality. And he truly hadn’t been bargaining on Mark Owen; stood there bold as brass, looking around the shop with wide, scared eyes. His head snapped round as he heard Gary’s splutters and he watched in panicky silence as Gary tried to mop tea off himself.
“Gaz,” Mark breathed softly, surprised and already trying to back away.
Well who were you expecting? Winston Churchill? Michael Jackson? The Pope?!
“Mark,” Gary murmured back. He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t more barbed, more defensive. By rights it should be him who was standing looking shocked, maybe shouting, maybe throwing things...well, maybe not throwing things, not in here, that could damage the pianos. But regardless he did nothing. Instead he found himself falling for the startled look on Mark’s face, his own expression softening into something close to sympathy. He could see that Mark could feel it too; that weird sensation he had been aware of all this time. And he found it nice to see proof that he wasn’t going mad, that the shop really was different, the building really was straining and groaning and he really wasn’t imagining it all. It was traumatising if you thought about it too much – between the four of them they had made this building so happy and now they’d gone and spoilt it all.
“What happened?” Mark asked in a small voice. Gary blinked a couple of times.
Excuse me, shouldn’t I be asking you that question?! One whole fucking year, Mark!
“What do you mean?” Gary asked, his brain and his mouth no longer able to connect. His and Mark’s eyes roamed the room as Mark slowly came down the step, leaving the doorway and coming closer to the baby grand. His hand almost reached out to touch it then he pulled it back and strained to bring his eyes back to Gary.
“It just feels so different...it’s all...” he searched for a word. Gary knew it.
“Still,” he said, eyes going down to the floor. Mark nodded.
“And empty,” he added. Gary let out a long breath, rubbing a hand over his face. He put down his mug on the top of one of the pianos, ignoring the look of alarm the action provoked from Mark, and lowered himself tiredly onto a piano stool.
“And empty,” he echoed in agreement, his eyes looking Mark up and down. He was different too. He looked older somehow; not in an unflattering way, just in an ‘I’ve done battle with life and survived’ sort of a way. A blue cardigan of impractical proportions was hanging off his small frame, tired leather boots on his feet. It was all very weather-beaten. Gary suspected it to be mostly a trend-related wardrobe choice but a small part of him wondered if the trend happened to conveniently suite Mark’s mood.
“Where are they?” Mark asked and Gary almost jumped, realising he had been staring at Mark for longer than he had intended to. He frowned slightly at Mark’s question, genuinely puzzled.
“Who?” he sighed.
I’m the one who should be asking you all this rubbish, I’m the one you chose not to talk to for a year. More than a year, in fact.
“Jay and Howard,” Mark pressed, looking around as if they might leap out and start yelling at him at any moment. But nothing in the shop moved, because it never did anymore. Gary closed his eyes.
“Gone,” he replied, a tiny bud of sadness forming somewhere just beneath his skin.
“Gone?” Mark was incredulous, looking at him with dark eyes that glimmered dully.
“They went. Just me now,” Gary explained, swallowing the sadness with marginally less ease than usual. Mark was blinking in confusion now and he automatically flopped onto the baby grand’s stool, the use of his legs clearly gone, or at least greatly diminished.
“They went? Went where?!” he whispered. Gary shrugged.
“Away – didn’t sell up yet but...it’s just a matter of time,” he told Mark, trying not to look at him.
Why are we talking about Jay and Howard? Why aren’t we talking about what on earth you’re doing back here Markie?
“But...but why?” Mark stammered, raking a hand through his hair. Gary supposed he couldn’t bring himself to be angrier because he knew exactly how Mark was feeling. He’d been there, with the shock and the lack of comprehension. The first day at work without them...God, he’d been a mess.
“They had to go Markie,” he sighed.
“Had to? You mean...you mean you wanted them to? Did you fight with them?!” Mark looked up in alarm and suddenly his and Gary’s eyes met. Gary swallowed and looked away.
“I didn’t want them to, I never wanted them to but...nothing was the same. Them, me...this place,” he explained and Mark looked sadly down at his hands, rubbing his thumb nervously on his palm.
“Coz of me?” he asked and Gary paused a moment. It was true that Mark was the catalyst. After he left the atmosphere of the shop had changed. Jason hadn’t been able to help Gary through it either; he was still the caring friend Gary had always known him to be, but he refused to take control as he had done in the past. He didn’t say it but he felt that Gary needed to grow up just as badly as Mark did, he didn’t want to be so harsh when Gary was so low but Gary could see something in Jason’s blue gaze that told him Jason was finally at a loss. Gary and Jason had both known that it was up to Gary himself to sort himself out or he would never really be able to be ok.
“Coz of both of us. And coz of everything him and Howard went through living round here. But mostly? Coz Howard got a job. Not very dramatic but...I think that was mostly it,” Gary sighed.
“Tell me,” Mark replied and Gary looked at him. Telling him seemed a ridiculous thing to do; Mark was the one who owed Gary a detailed itinerary of his year. But somehow Gary found himself starting the story. He supposed that in order to put this meeting into context at all both of them would need to explain. And he might as well start – because after all, who knew whether he’d be in any fit state to talk when Mark had done saying whatever he had come to say.
He lowered himself down onto the bed, his eyes on Jason’s sleeping form. He could just define the outline of Jason’s face in the night time light that came through the window and he watched him sleep a moment, his brow furrowed in deep thought. Slowly he leant across, one hand barely resting on Jason’s arm, kissing Jason’s temple once then pulling back. Jason stirred, turning his head, and Howard watched him in silence. Jason’s eyes opened gradually, the dim glitter of them was almost black in the darkness, just a sliver of blue lit by the moonlight. Howard let Jason’s eyes meet his own and didn’t move but to pull back his hand from Jason’s arm.
“What’s wrong?” Jason whispered softly, his fingertips reaching out to gently touch Howard’s chest. Howard watched him a moment longer, not startled at Jason’s insight but a little dismayed that it had not been dulled by sleep. He smiled at Jason distantly, cupping his cheek and kissing his forehead. Jason’s brow creased beneath the kiss and Howard pulled back.
“Nothing. It’ll wait ‘til morning anyway,” Howard sighed, looking down, his fingers slipping away from Jason’s skin. Then it was Jason’s turn to watch. His gaze flicked away for a moment then tentatively returned to Howard’s face as he pushed himself up in bed. He was sitting cross-legged then, opposite Howard, on his level, a tiny smile on his lips.
“You woke me up breaking that glass anyway, so you might as well finish what you started,” he said, his voice soft and laced with just the right balance of mirth and concern.
“You heard that?” Howard asked with slight guilt, his eyes coming up to meet Jason’s.
“Course I heard it...has something happened How?” Jason replied.
“Not...not really,” Howard mumbled and Jason tilted his head.
“Then what is it?” he frowned. Howard bit his lip and took a deep breath. They were no longer touching now, just sitting opposite each other on the bed, Jason cross-legged, Howard with his legs tucked around so his body tilted slightly away from Jason’s.
“I got a call from this guy...he er...he books me quite a lot. He knows my priorities pretty well so he knows all the good times to get me,” Howard shrugged, his and Jason’s eyes meeting as he said ‘priorities’, causing both of them to smile with a coy sort of amusement before promptly looking away again. Jason moved his hand on top of Howard’s.
“And?” he pressed in a gentle voice that Howard couldn’t refuse.
“And...he wants to give me a permanent slot, pretty much take up residency in the biggest of his clubs. Then from that he wants to...well, he wants to talk to me about bringing me more into the other side of his business; the production company part of things,” Howard explained and no sooner had the words left his lips than Jason’s hand was on his cheek.
“But that’s perfect, surely? Before I messed everything up your only priority was getting into production,” Jason smiled and Howard laughed softly, his hand then going to Jason’s cheek so they sat in a mirror of each other.
“You changed everything but you messed up nothing,” he said sincerely. Jason’s eyes twinkled a little more blue in the darkness but he didn’t reply, instead he turned the focus back to Howard.
“If someone is offering you the best of both worlds, why aren’t you doing backflips?” he asked seriously and Howard squirmed slightly. They had stopped touching again now.
“Because last time I did backflips I hurt myself?” Howard suggested and Jason sighed.
“How, please,” he said and Howard groaned, looking down at the duvet. Jason reached across yet again and took his hand and eventually Howard looked back up into his eyes.
“This guy is based in Frankfurt,” he replied. A look of understanding crossed Jason’s face and, even though the light was poor, Howard knew him well enough to recognise it. In fact, he knew him so well that he could even spot the moment the realisation turned into consideration.
“Well then...then maybe we should go to Frankfurt,” he murmured at last. Howard stared at him for a moment, his grip on Jason’s hand tightening a little.
“But Jay what about...about you? About here? Grace and...and...our lives here I...I can’t damage that. It’s fragile enough as it is,” he admitted, shaking his head slightly. Jason moved closer to him, his hands either side of his face.
“It’s fragile because it’s already been damaged beyond repair, Howard. We’re not the same people we were last year, never mind when we first met. I’m not saying I’m miserable but...but I know it’s not the same. I was happy before in a different way – we all had something...I dunno, between the four of us. The music wasn’t the only thing, it was secondary if anything. And now it’s gone I feel like...like whatever that thing is that you search for in life before you settle down for good, that thing we had, it’s gone. Maybe we need to start looking again...I mean, if Mark doesn’t come back or...or if Gaz never manages to...” Jason faltered and his eyes left Howard’s.
“Jay,” Howard said gently, touching Jason’s chin with his fingertip. Jason’s eyes turned back up to him immediately making Howard’s breath catch slightly.
“You could have it; that thing, whatever it is, you could have it. You can keep pursuing that...that meaning that you want in your life. Things have already changed here, Howard, what’s a few more changes on the list?” Jason asked and Howard leant their foreheads together.
“Jay, I’m only going to be happier there than here if you’re happier there than here,” he said and Jason smiled, kissing him once on the lips then pulling back.
“I can’t promise that, love, you know I can’t...but I don’t think we can stay here much longer. So much has happened here that I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again, do you?” he asked.
“Maybe not. But it’ll always be home, won’t it? It was the start of our story, Jay,” Howard reminded Jason gently and Jason smiled, his thumb stroking the back of Howard’s hand.
“Our story?” he said, tilting his head once more.
“Every great romance has a story doesn’t it?” Howard countered and Jason shrugged.
“I don’t know...I think the really great ones, they don’t come in storybook form. I don’t think they start anywhere in particular either,” he replied honestly. Howard smiled, intrigued.
“They don’t start?” he asked and Jason shrugged once more.
“Really great romances just happen because the people happened,” he said.
“So they begin and end with the people?” Howard frowned and Jason looked into his eyes with a distant smile, starting to stroke his thumb along the back of Howard’s hand again.
“No, that’s not right either. Real romances don’t end,” he promised. Howard’s lips twisted up slowly into a smile and he slipped his hand free of Jason’s, bringing it up and tracing his finger under Jason’s chin until their faces were close once more. He captured Jason’s lips with his own and pulled him into a kiss. He closed his eyes and felt Jason’s thin form press against him, his arms slipping around his neck until the two of them were practically sitting on each other’s laps. Jason pulled back first and Howard was reluctant to open his eyes. But he did and when he did Jason’s eyes were shining just millimetres in front of his own.
“You’ll change your mind in the morning. You just think you’re dreaming now, in the morning you’ll change your mind,” Howard whispered but Jason narrowed his eyes.
“About which bit?” he questioned and Howard smiled ruefully.
“The Frankfurt bit,” he sighed and Jason shook his head.
“I won’t. About any of it,” he assured.
“Jay...” Howard murmured but Jason silenced him with a small kiss on the lips.
“We’ll talk in the morning, Howard,” he promised and, without another word, he shifted himself away from Howard, moving back to his side of the bed and climbing beneath the covers.
Jason had always been a man who was true to his word. Howard had known that when Jason had promised him he wouldn’t change his mind. But something in Howard was still a little surprised when he found himself repeating it all to Gary in the shop the next day. Gary, for his part, was also surprised. Mostly by the fact that it was Howard who was telling him. He had become extremely close to Howard of late. In fact he even dared to suspect that he was now more close with Howard than he was with Jason. It was strange but there seemed to be some long-buried part of him that identified with Howard, somehow Howard brought it out, almost as though he was reminding Gary of a person he had once had every intention of being but had forgotten somewhere along the line. But still, despite it all, he felt, deep down in the pit of his stomach, that it would have been right for Jason to be the one to tell him this. They had known each other so long, been together all that time. It was the end of an era and, since the era had been entered together, Gary rather felt it should be ended together too, though he wasn’t convinced that even made sense.
“And in the end, neither one of us could really deny there’d be advantages – I would have to travel so much less, I could afford to turn down more jobs if I had a permanent deal, you know? Jay wanted to talk it through with Justin and his mum and family first before we made it official. I’m not supposed to have told you really but...well, he knows I’m crap at keeping secrets,” Howard sighed, as though picking up on Gary’s muddled thoughts. Gary nodded slowly in reply and took a sip of his tea. Howard took a sip of his own tea and wrinkled his nose; he would usually have coffee but none of them had remembered to go shopping at the end of last week.
“You know...I think the universe is trying to tell us something,” Gary said at least, his blue eyes focusing on a point in the distance rather than on Howard.
“Like what?” Howard asked him with a frown and Gary shrugged.
“I don’t know...like...like it’s time to move on? It’s like it’s trying to tell us that this thing, this friendship, this team that the four of us built, was only temporary. It was just a holding pattern whilst we all grew up enough to move on and go our separate ways...discover whatever the real meanings of our lives are supposed to be,” he explained.
“What makes you think that?” Howard said, his head on one side. Gary looked back at him and smiled sadly.
“Well...would you believe, I had a phone call from Frankfurt last night too?” he asked and Howard raised his eyebrows, putting down his mug and pushing himself off the banister, coming to sit next to Gary on the stairs.
“Are there many piano-bars in Frankfurt?” he joked and Gary laughed softly.
“I have no idea – it wasn’t a business proposition, it was just a catch-up. A friend of mine from my...from Egypt,” Gary told Howard, his eyes slowly sliding from Howard’s down to his hands.
“An Egyptian in Frankfurt?” Howard’s voice was puzzled and Gary smirked slightly.
“No, no she’s German. She was working in Egypt for a while but she’s back home now, managed to get a job at some theatre in Germany that she worked at before she moved. Anyway, she’s mostly been at the mercy of friends and family with spare rooms since she got back, but the reason she called was that she’s finally got herself a flat. She’s going to get lodgers eventually but she wondered if I fancied a holiday in Germany. I turned it down but...” Gary trailed off.
“But maybe me and Jay could offer to be her lodgers?” Howard finished and Gary nodded.
“Maybe...I mean, it would save her having to interview people, I can vouch for you and Jay not being psychos and...well, it would also save you and Jay having to mess around trying to furnish your own place out there,” he added.
“Jay could keep the apartment here if we were just renting there...we could trial a year...get it sorted now we could be set up by November...” Howard seemed to lose himself in thought.
“I’ll give you her number and you can talk to Jay about it. Her name’s Monika...I’ll call her and put her on standby,” Gary told him and Howard nodded silently.
That was the last proper talk Gary had with Howard before he and Jason left. The pace with which everything changed was quite shocking really. One moment he was worrying about the fact he’d forgotten to stock up on coffee at the shop, the next he was saying a lengthy goodbye to Jason. And God that goodbye had been torture – for the both of them. He had spent their entire conversation on edge. He was terrified, Gary knew him well enough to know that. But they were all agreed; they were all quietly falling apart here and they needed to put an end to the disintegration.
Jason had a job at the theatre in no time, though Gary never quite understood what use a German theatre had for a procrastinating Mancunian. He flew out to visit them just before Christmas. Howard was some sort of rising star, as far as Gary could tell, and Jason...he seemed to be pleased enough just watching the star rise. When Gary returned he realised it was time to stop waiting for ‘normality’ to return. Everything was different and would stay that way. Jason and Howard were now nothing more than a distant part of his life, Mark was...Mark was probably gone entirely. He would need to remember how to take care of himself. And maybe, he hoped, learn how to take care of others along the way. It might come in useful one day, being a proper grown-up for a change.
“Wow,” Mark’s comment took a good five minutes to arrive. The monosyllabic utterance hardly registered to Gary, he was too busy replaying it all in his head. Jason’s protracted sigh before he had told Gary they were going seemed to be creeping across the floorboards and up the shop’s walls. Strangely, he found himself forgetting Mark was there at all.
“Look back but don’t stare,” he murmured to no one in particular, attracting the attention of Mark’s bright, round eyes. He pulled on the already-loose fabric of his cardigan and studied Gary’s face.
“What do you mean?” he ventured quietly and Gary’s head snapped up in surprise. He blinked and shook his head, his mouth opening and closing as he fished for words to explain where his mind had just wandered to. The echo of Jason’s sigh brushed past him again and he looked away from Mark.
“Just...I just wonder if everything looks like something of a nightmare when you look at it too hard. I don’t know. Maybe you shouldn’t look back at all, it never seems to do me much good,” he sighed and Mark tilted his head, his eyes creasing as though he had just stepped on a wasp.
“A nightmare?” he asked in a small voice. Gary closed his eyes and shook his head.
“I don’t mean...I just...there were so many mistakes and it always seemed like the world was ready to fall apart around our ears. This past year I’ve...I’ve realised some things about myself I can’t believe I was ever daft enough to ignore. With everyone else gone for good, I realised I needed to keep myself in check...and that I’m actually pretty good at doing so. People leave...but it’d be pretty hard to leave yourself. Look back but don’t stare,” Gary murmured. Mark swallowed.
“For good?” he whispered and Gary frowned.
“What?” he replied and Mark nervously looked up into his eyes.
“You thought I was gone for good?” he said and Gary froze. He had. He really had. He couldn’t deny it, but he desperately wanted to because Mark looked so very anguished.
I thought you were gone for good. Doesn’t mean I wanted you to be though.
“Yes,” he told him simply, dully. Mark’s face flushed with held-in tears and his body tensed. The pause was uncomfortable but neither one of them could break it.
“Maybe I...maybe I should then...go I mean...for good,” Mark stammered slowly.
Don’t.
“Why?” Gary managed to breathe out before Mark could get up. The question stopped him before he could pull himself up and whatever thread had been pulling him away seemed to be relaxed. The walls around them, however, tensed further and Gary found himself holding his breath with them.
“Why what?” Mark’s voice sounded small and strained.
“Why should you go for good?” Gary clarified.
That’s not what I meant to say. Spit it out. You might not want to hear it but...you need to know.
“Because you just...” Mark began.
“No,” Gary interrupted and Mark looked startled, finally bringing his eyes up from the floor.
“No?” he asked tentatively. Gary closed his eyes and took a steadying breath.
“That’s not what I meant I...I don’t think you should go. If you wanted to come here then you must’ve had a reason and I think...I think I’d like to know. Your reason I mean,” Gary stumbled through the sentence, his eyes on the ceiling the entire time. He was aware of Mark’s incredulous stare but he couldn’t bring himself to look for fear of backing out.
We have to hear things we don’t want to sometimes. And what was our relationship worth in the first place if neither one of us deems it worthy of a goodbye?
“Why am I here you mean?” Mark pressed and Gary nodded.
“Why are you here,” he repeated quietly. Mark’s turn to scan the room with his eyes. Not much was different about the room itself; there was no guitar in the corner and Mark was sure at least one of the old pianos had been sold. But still he couldn’t shake the feeling of damage. It was strange really; in the past it had never felt damaged, but the people inside had been. Now the people had fixed themselves the building seemed to have lost purpose. But were they really fixed or just works in progress? Jason and Howard gone...that wasn’t right, that wasn’t fixed. And then there was him and Gary. Maybe they had only been able to be together when they were broken, maybe now it was all wrong and he should run and not say anything. But Gary had asked...and Mark didn’t want to disappoint anyone anymore.
I’ve done enough disappointing people really haven’t I.
"I came back because I...I have so many things I need to explain, to tell you and I...I owe you so much honesty, because that’s more than you’ve ever had from me before. It’s just that...it’s all so messed up Gaz. And saying it is so hard but...I’m worried. Because I’ve done a lot of thinking and I’ve learned more about myself than I ever wanted to know and...the thing is...I wasn’t myself. I wasn’t myself for most of our time together. And...I don’t...I don’t think I was me when you loved me. And I s’pose the thing I really came to say, or rather...what I wanted to confess is that...I’m sorry, for so many reasons, but...I’m not the person that you loved.”
Chapter Ten
Monika didn’t look up as the door opened, she simply turned the page of her book.
“Bedroom,” she stated and Howard smiled, nodding silently and heading down the corridor. He opened the bedroom door slowly, quietly. The scene inside was warmth itself and a ripple of relief skimmed across Howard’s chest, eventually pulsing through him enough to reach his face until there was a daft grin on his lips and light bouncing about in his blue eyes. Jason was sitting cross-legged on the bed, tracksuit bottoms and Howard’s hoody on (Howard’s favourite outfit to see him in). The only light was the dim glow of the bedside lamp and the quiet glimmer of the Frankfurt night, but it was enough to send whispers of gold across Jason’s eyes as he lifted them from his book. Howard stopped, his hand losing grip on his bag and every strain of the long Christmas season momentarily sliding off his shoulders, thudding down to the floor with his bag as Jason’s lips turned up at the corners. The rush of love was immense.
“Evenin’ darlin’,” Jason smiled lightly and Howard chuckled, shaking his head.
“Evenin’ darlin’ y’self,” he echoed, sitting down on the bed heavily and taking Jason into his arms, pressing a kiss to his forehead then looking down into his eyes.
“I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow,” Jason said, his hand going to Howard’s cheek, brushing away a smudge of something Howard doubted was even there.
“I thought a pleasant surprise would make a nice change,” Howard replied with a shrug.
“Oh it does, believe me,” Jason whispered back, sitting up and planting a lingering kiss to Howard’s lips. Howard smiled and chose to pull Jason closer, extending the kiss further and burying his hand in Jason’s hair. It occurred to him, somewhere beneath the dull buzz the kiss sent through him, that this was a far better feeling than any cigarette break. A stupid thought but he let it linger.
I think that’s how I managed to quit before actually.
Jason pulled back and Howard found himself reluctantly following suit, his hand falling from Jason’s hair down to the back of his neck, his thumb stroking softly along Jason’s skin.
“So tell me, Jason Orange, am I better than you remembered?” Howard asked. And for a moment both of them were very aware of Jason wanting to remark sharply that no, he was not better, simply smokier...but not having the strength for a fight. Jason tilted his head slightly and sucked in a breath.
“So tell me, Howard Donald, what changed your mind?” he asked.
“The thought of you sitting all by yourself on this bed in that outfit?” Howard suggested and Jason narrowed his eyes, raising his finger to Howard.
“This outfit is for sleeping in,” he told him firmly but Howard pushed his nose against Jason’s.
“That’s why I want to get you out of it though,” he pressed and Jason pursed his lips.
“I thought you said that flight would be next to impossible to catch – how exactly did you manage to get here?,” he ploughed on, ignoring Howard’s slowly wandering hands.
“That was before, this is now. Crystal broke a few road laws for me is all. Now, will you please at least pretend you missed me,” Howard pouted slightly but Jason’s expression only grew stonier.
“I did miss you, I’ve spent most of these past few months missing you,” he muttered.
“Jay don’t be like that, I just want to make the most of my time off, you know that’s all,” Howard pleaded and for a moment Jason wavered. Yet again they were both very aware of Jason’s longing to avoid a fight; he didn’t want to fight and he didn’t have the strength to.
“You know me Howard, you know I missed you,” Jason whispered after a pause. Howard cupped his cheek and bent his head slightly to force Jason to look him in the eye again.
“Hey, come on, I know that. I’m only playing Jay, come on, gimme a smile,” he sighed. Jason closed his eyes and for a moment Howard thought that was it; the light was going off and Jason was going straight to sleep without a goodnight and they wouldn’t talk again ‘til morning, or maybe even the next night. But then Jason’s eyes opened and reluctantly met his own again.
“I don’t miss many other people but you, How,” he said quietly and Howard nodded.
“And I came back didn’t I?” he countered gently.
“Yeah, but apparently that was only coz you fancied a sha...” Jason began but he was cut off by Howard pushing him away and getting up from the bed abruptly.
“Just give it a rest will you, Jay! I missed you, I wanted to see you, I came home; why is that so awful?” Howard demanded, raking a hand through his hair and looking up at the ceiling.
“Howard, I just...” Jason tried but yet again Howard stopped him.
“I don’t ask much Jay, to be fair. I go out to all corners of fucking Europe for you and all I want in return is a bit of a warm welcome when I get home?” Howard pressed. Jason clenched his jaw then and looked away. There was silence for a moment until Jason looked back up at Howard.
“And I suppose I don’t do anything for you then? Only change everything?” he said, his voice raising ever so slightly, making Howard look around in surprise. As his eyes met Jason’s he saw tears just starting to form, but Jason would not let them fall.
Stubborn, prideful, beautiful little bastard. What am I doing to him?
“Jay, I didn’t marry the sort of bloke who changes everything for anyone,” Howard scoffed, though his eyes weren’t even half as dismissive as his words.
“I changed everything foryou, not for anyone,” Jason whispered.
“Come on Jay, this isn’t the you I married,” Howard insisted. Jason’s expression hardened and he sat up slightly, squaring his shoulders, eyes flashing silver.
“Then who exactly did you marry, Howard?” Jason demanded in too level a voice.
“I married you; I married Jason Orange! The guy who doesn’t back the fuck down and who always used to enjoy welcoming me home with a bit more style than this; one fucking kiss and you don’t want to give in to anything more?!” Howard shot back.
“What am I, your property?” Jason asked sharply.
“Well actually, legally, technically, yes, pretty much” Howard snapped and Jason froze. Something passed between the two of them, a shared moment of understanding, though neither of them quite knew what it was they both understood. The understanding that this had spilled over into something so much bigger? Jason’s eyes were glistening with what Howard thought at first was anger, but then he looked harder and he saw it was a new wave of tears. One escaped this time and traced a path down Jason’s cheek, but Jason didn’t even bother to wipe it away.
He always tries to wipe them away. Always.
“In that case I don’t think you married Jason Orange,” Jason murmured and Howard pulled a face. He had to look away, he had to retort, he had to defend himself against seeing Jason cry.
“Well who the fuck would you rather I be married to? Jason Donald? Couldn’t fucking get him though could I,” he managed to bite out at last.
Jason didn’t reply for too long. Howard slowly looked across at him; he was sitting there as if in shock, looking into middle-distance with glassy eyes, his lips parted ever-so-slightly.
“No...no I guess you couldn’t,” he breathed out slowly, his eyes raising to meet Howard’s. If Howard hadn’t been holding on to a certain level of misguided anger he probably would have noticed the tears had gone, replaced by something altogether more hollow. Something that had made Jason Orange Jason Orange had just been cut neatly out of him and carefully melted down. But Jason wouldn’t give him chance to see that; before Howard could process his own words, Jason stood silently and left the room. Howard didn’t even flinch until he heard the front door slam.
It took a whole minute for Howard to lower himself onto the bed. It took Monika mere seconds to appear in the doorway.
“What did you say?” she asked, her arms folded, the look on her face making it clear the two of them had been loud enough for her to know exactly what he’d said. Howard looked up at her slowly, his brow creased. Every instinct he had was still telling him to be indignant, even if his heart was trying to turn him against it.
This wasn’t my fault.
“I didn’t fucking say anything! What does it matter anyway? Let him have his tantrum, he’ll be back when he’s got over himself,” Howard mumbled, not able to look at Monika as he said it, already feeling the guilt starting to creep over him. He didn’t know what had just happened or why or even whose fault it was, all he knew was that he wished it hadn’t happened...although, somehow, he’d been expecting it would happen for some time now.
Monika’s expression had softened and when he eventually looked up she had let out a breath, her arms no longer folded.
“He didn’t take a coat – it’s snowing out there,” she tried.
“If he wants to freeze then let him, he’s perfectly capable of making his own choices,” he muttered back and she only just managed to restrain herself from slapping him. She understood...well, in a way. What she wasn’t sure of was how she could snap him out of this without getting too mean.
“Ok...but...but when was the last time you actually saw him eat a proper meal? Or even sleep more than two hours a time?” she asked him gently. There was a pause. Then Howard’s head snapped up.
“Fuck,” he half-hissed as he shot to his feet.
Fuck.
Monika only just had time to step out of his way as he rushed from the room, pulling his hat and coat back on as he went and careering towards the front door.
“You’re welcome,” she called after him, shaking her head as she returned to the sofa.
Howard flung himself out of the downstairs door with such force that he almost skidded into the middle of the road, but he managed to stop himself by clinging to a lamppost. He looked both ways down the street, expecting Jason to be miles away and hidden by shadows and snow flurries. Squinting against the snow and trying to make out footprints on the ground, he almost missed the bench. It was a short way down the street from their flat, set back slightly from the pavement and half in shadow. Jason was sitting on it, looking frail and small and all the things Howard never thought of him as. Half in the light, half in the dark, shivering in a way which was barely noticeable unless you knew him. Howard stopped still a moment, he could tell Jason hadn’t seen him and, for now at least, he wanted to keep it that way. There was a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach that the moment Jason saw him was the moment a dramatic chase through the streets would start.
But let him run. I’ll chase him – I don’t know much but I know I have to fight for him.
Eventually Howard pushed himself off the lamppost, shoving his hands in his pockets and doing his best to stroll. He had never realised how difficult effortlessness was before and he felt sure his walk was jerky and unsteady. It carried him closer though and, to his surprise, Jason didn’t run. He didn’t look up either, but he didn’t run. He just watched his hands, fiddling with his ring thoughtfully, watching snowflakes melting on his ring finger and then slowly turning his palms upwards to catch them as they fell. Howard stopped still once more, a little further from the bench than he would normally have stopped. He was still cautious. If there was one thing he always expected from Jason it was resistance.
Stubborn. But then, isn’t that our codeword when we run out of ways to say ‘I love you’?
Tentatively Howard cleared his throat, his eyes looking Jason up and down one more time. Jason wouldn’t raise his eyes, but he stilled under Howard’s gaze. He knew who and he knew why – there was no need to look.
“Evenin’ darlin’,” Howard said softly. Howard couldn’t decide if it was just the snow, but he was sure he saw something glimmer briefly in Jason’s eyes, though still he wouldn’t lift his face.
“Evenin’ darlin’ y’self,” Jason murmured back. Howard smiled sadly.
“Jay...” Howard began but Jason closed his eyes at the sound.
“Don’t,” he pleaded and Howard frowned.
What does he think I’m going to say?
“Look can we...can we start again?” he tried.
“Howard I don’t...” Jason trailed off, his eyes turning skyward.
“You must be freezing...come on, come inside,” Howard offered.
“No,” Jason stated adamantly, his eyes suddenly looking at Howard, a flash of what Howard was more used to – just a small glimpse but it was there.
“Will you take my coat then?”Howard suggested softly. Jason’s expression wavered, his eyes faded slightly and he looked away, edging back into the shadow. The half-light caught his profile and Howard traced the outline of light with his eyes, trying to find what had happened to that brief moment of fighting spirit, of pig-headedness.
Of Jason Orange.
“I don’t just give control. I’ve never just given people control,” Jason murmured at last and Howard’s brow creased. He took a cautious step closer.
“Jay...” he began but Jason shook his head slowly so Howard closed his mouth and stilled. Jason’s eyes were on his hands again, he was playing with the ring, catching more snowflakes.
“I suppose I changed the rules for you. I suppose I changed, full stop. I’m not the same person I was when we met, you know? You’re not either. We became people who love and...and it grew us up...and life grew us up,” Jason said quietly, slowly easing his ring from his finger and turning it over in his hand. Howard’s breath held a moment, then Jason slid the ring back on and he couldn’t stop the corner of his lip twitching up briefly in relief.
“I can’t make it right if I don’t know what’s wrong, Jay,” Howard managed at last.
“Have you heard a word I’ve said these past few months?” Jason asked him suddenly.
“What?” Howard frowned and Jason smiled sadly.
“Guess not,” he murmured. The ring was slid off once more.
Put it back on. Put it back on.
“Jay, please,” Howard whispered. He wasn’t sure if he was even talking about the conversation; his eyes were only on the ring. Jason paused a moment then silently slid the ring back on. Howard felt his heart stutter back to life.
“I put locks on the door and I had the keys cut and I gave all of them to you and I never thought you’d use them...” Jason was talking so distantly Howard was slightly unsure if he was supposed to respond or not.
“Jay...” he began but Jason didn’t even flinch.
“I don’t speak the language, can’t understand the TV, I have no friends of my own, I wait for you every night, I can’t tie you down to any day or time, I let you have your way so you don’t leave sad or angry, I don’t fight in case it spoils whatever time we have, I don’t stand my ground on anything, I don’t mention the fact your kisses taste of nothing but smoke these days and I...I lost myself...you’re right, that’s not the man you married. And yet I never did relinquish my name...my last and only safeguard failed somewhere...” he continued and Howard winced.
“I never wanted it anyway, never needed it. I didn’t mean what I said before, you know I didn’t,” he interjected. And suddenly Jason looked up and met his eyes properly. No tears. No anger. No light. Just a glassy and glimmerless grey. Howard couldn’t blame the snowflakes for that, he was close enough to see everything now but he didn’t like seeing everything when everything was...well, nothing.
“I was back in that room, Howard. I was back in that fucking room and there was nothing I could do about it,” Jason whispered. The tears that had been in his eyes earlier had migrated to his throat and the sound made every muscle in Howard’s body tense. It hurt. He wanted it to hurt though, he felt it had to, it needed to.
“I...I don’t under...” he stammered but Jason shook his head, turning his eyes upwards again. Tears were forming, Howard could see the faint shimmer of them in the half-light.
I need better words. My words aren’t good enough for him and never have been. Please don’t cry...
“The one time in my life I didn’t choose who had control was when I was in that room,” Jason half-choked and realisation crept into Howard’s face.
“Emily...” he breathed. Jason didn’t react, still looking up at the sky to prevent the tears falling.
That’s Jason Orange.
“I’ve been reliving it Howard, every single day I...I feel it. I can remember it. No choice, no place to go...because...I couldn’t leave that room and I can’t leave this country...not without you I can’t. But that’s the thing, you know? I was back in that room, only...only it was worse because it was you who was keeping me there. It was you, Howard. And you are the only person I’ve ever willingly trusted with the power to lock me in...coz I never thought you’d actually use that key,” Jason whispered at last. Howard’s lips parted slightly. He was close to tears himself – because that whole time, that sensation of falling...he’d known and he hadn’t let himself care.
I knew. I knew what I was doing. And I knew he would let me do it. So I did it.
“Oh Jay...” he breathed at last. Jason closed his eyes and turned his head away. Howard had never thought the sound of his voice would do that to Jason and he hated it.
“Howard, just leave it,” Jason said quietly, refusing to turn back, refusing to open his eyes. But Howard hardly heard him – for once for all the right reasons.
“Oh Jay...I...I am so...you’re right. You’re right. You’re always right. If I could...if could only be better then maybe I’d not make mistakes when it came to you. I think a better man would make fewer mistakes but...me? I’m just some tit who doesn’t listen. I didn’t hear a word that you said. I was enjoying myself, I suppose. Smelling the roses, ignoring the thorns, that sort of crap. I was hanging with my friends, slowly getting out of my head until I didn’t hear you at all. And I was just...having fun. If I could take it back, Jay...if I could take your blows for you, if I could find a way of fixing all the things that I broke since coming into your life...then I would, you know? If I could. I would, for you I...it’s never been about control or a name or...I know I messed it up again. I should’ve listened, I should’ve...I should’ve...been more or...stopped and thought more. I’m always trying to be your hero or...or something, but I never get it right, you know? I just...I wish I could understand...how I ended up here, how we ended up here...oh Jay...please...forgive me?” Howard was all but whispering now. He wasn’t sure how he dared but he raised his eyes from the ground. Jason was looking at him again. His ring was on. His eyes were bright, not entirely blue but shining at least. Jason watched him and Howard swallowed his breath. His hand was splayed open at his side, his fingers stretched out in Jason’s direction.
“Don’t I always forgive you?” Jason’s voice cut the silence at last, his eyelashes damp but his eyes now dry. It could have been a shadow, but Howard was sure he saw a smile, albeit small.
“If I could try to change I...” Howard began and Jason shook his head slightly.
And that was definitely a smile then.
“Don’t change who you are...I love you because of that, not despite of it,” he sighed and his eyes turned away again.
“What about you though?” Howard asked slowly.
“Me?” Jason’s voice was thin but Howard dismissed that as being down to the cold air, if only to force himself to carry on. He’d put things off enough. They both had.
“You said you changed...and you know, I think you did try to. And I think it hurt. And I think that because it hurt you would try and suspend it. Pause the eating, pause the sleeping...pause the smiling. If you don’t live you can’t grow up...you can’t change...you can’t hurt. It’s just, the thing is, I love you Jay, I love you and I’ve run out of ways to tell you I love you coz the only ways left are clichés. And you are worth so much more than any fucking cliché. I do love you though, love the bones of you, truth be told. And I can’t keep on letting you pass me by, I can’t let you help me play pretend anymore. I love you – it’s a truth that means more to me than whatever other hurtful, scary shit you know to be true as well,” Howard pressed. Again both men froze, staring each other down.
Eventually Jason swallowed, his eyes closed again as he turned his head. When his eyes opened Howard was a step closer, his stare bright in the shadows. Jason pushed himself up off the bench and walked over to the edge of the pavement, trying to step out of Howard’s gaze. But Howard turned with him, his eyes following him.
“I’m sorry too,” Jason murmured at last without turning round.
“You don’t have to be...it’s my mess,” Howard sighed but Jason shook his head.
“No. Our whims affect each other, don’t they? And my whim was to pretend. Pretend and hope you’d see through it but...that’s still pretending. Lying. I was sitting on the fence I suppose. Slowly going out of my head but trying not to let anyone see. It’s not so much that I wanted to pretend...I don’t think I did. I don’t think I really knew the truth myself though...I wanted to know what I was feeling coz...coz I hadn’t felt at home in Manchester for so long, it was all too different, you know? And I thought maybe if Manchester, somewhere I’d known the same way all my life, could change from home to...to whatever it was becoming...then maybe this country could change too? From not home to...to where I wanted to be. I wanted the truth to just be there. I wanted the truth of what I felt and I couldn’t work it out, you know? But the truth is hard to find when it’s playing tricks with your mind like that. And for the record? I don’t think I heard a word you said either, if I’m honest...and I should be honest. Can you forgive me? Or...at least...will you forgive me?” Jason asked softly.
Howard smiled but didn’t reply and, as the silence dragged on, Jason looked over his shoulder nervously. Howard had crossed the small gap between them and was standing right behind him; Jason felt the coat being slipped over his shoulders before he really realised what was happening. Howard’s arms wrapped around him swiftly, engulfing him in much-needed warmth, his stubble scratched his cheek slightly as he rested his chin on his shoulder, his lips right by Jason’s ear.
“Oi gorgeous, get over here and kiss my fucking face off would you?” Howard whispered and a slow smile crept up onto Jason’s lips.
“Your fucking face?” he questioned.
“You heard me,” Howard’s voice was gravelly and warm as he gave Jason a firm squeeze. Jason closed his eyes a moment, smiling as he let months of tension disperse before turning around in Howard’s embrace. He wrapped his arms around Howard’s neck and he hugged him tight. Howard responded by tightening his grip around Jason, one arm firmly around his waist, the other pressing on his back, his hand clutching gratefully at the back of Jason’s neck. They stayed that way a long time.
Or it might just have been seconds, I wasn’t counting. I was too busy holding him – as loosely as possible. He could’ve run away if he’d wanted. And he knew that, so he didn’t try.
“I love you,” Jason mumbled sleepily after a while. Howard kissed his cheek.
“Come on darlin’, I think it’s probably time for bed, don’t you? And yes, I mean bed. With pillows and duvets and lots of sleep,” he smiled and Jason pulled back, his eyes suddenly alive again.
“You can have a hug if you want though,” he offered gently and Howard smiled.
“I might just take you up on that. Oh, and for whatever it’s worth, I love you too,” he replied. Jason kissed him once on the lips then pulled back and held his gaze a moment.
“I know. I always knew,” he said.
Chapter Eleven
“I’m not the person that you love,” Mark’s voice didn’t seem to carry any weight in the December air and for a moment Gary convinced himself that the only thing he had heard was a creaking floorboard. But then his eyes took in Mark’s. And he couldn’t even pretend. In his head it was like old footage of tower-blocks being demolished was playing in slow motion; building after building just crashing out of the skyline and descending into dust. But outside his head it was the lack of anything crashing down that surprised him the most. No dramatic music swelled, no part of the floor shook, the shop didn’t tumble to its side. It was just him and Mark, sitting across the room from each other, not speaking.
“Oh,” Gary managed at last.
‘Oh’?! God, I fucking missed Gaz...
Mark smiled slightly and Gary watched his self-conscious chuckle with fascination. They watched each other a moment, but when each man spotted the other looking they both quickly dropped their eyes. Mark’s smile faded a little and he swallowed.
“I think this is the bit where you scream and shout and kick me down the street,” he said quietly and Gary narrowed his eyes in thought.
“Yes, I think maybe it is. I won’t though,” he replied. Mark’s lips twitched – the beginnings of a smile – but he closed his eyes.
“I don’t deserve to be let off the hook you know Gaz, I was such a fucking mess...those past few years especially I...I just became someone else. When I needed to be that guy, I was...it was so useful, you know? Stopped me ever having to take anything in. The constant change, the moving, the...well, the idiocy really. And I mean, now I look at it, it was idiocy. It’s true that you can’t run forever,” Mark murmured. Gary nodded absently. He picked up the mug of tea and took a sip then seemed to a do a double take. He stared at the mug for a long time – or it felt like a long time to Mark – then he looked up. He looked between Mark and the mug and shook his head.
“I’m using your mug,” he stated at last and Mark laughed nervously.
“Does it matter?” he asked and Gary looked taken aback. He stared at Mark.
What did I say? He looks hurt...he looks more hurt than when I was talking about us...he’s more upset over a mug than me?!
“Well...I thought it mattered,” Gary muttered self-consciously and put the mug down again.
“I am sorry you know,” Mark said after a moment.
“What for?” Gary replied and Mark was a little surprised to find he didn’t have an answer ready. He couldn’t make out Gary’s tone; was he genuinely confused or was this his way of showing his anger?
“Everything I suppose,” Mark shrugged and Gary nodded slowly.
“Everything is a good place to start,” he agreed and Mark’s brow creased.
“I should go,” he sighed, convinced Gary’s strange mood was his fault and desperate for it to stop. But Gary looked over at him quickly and his blue eyes were shining fiercely. They rendered Mark incapable of any movement. He had almost forgotten the expressiveness of that face; Gary had one of those faces that, most of the time, made you utterly sure of exactly what he meant. You could see the strain in his cheeks when he was dead-panning as he tried to hide the mirth, you could see the slight crease just between his eyebrows when he was trying to remember something. But for some reason, in that moment, Mark couldn’t make out Gary’s emotions. He just knew he couldn’t leave.
God knows what he’s thinking but I know it isn’t ‘Go’.
“You could’ve said that without having to leave for all that time,” Gary remarked into the silence.
“No,” Mark replied simply.
“No?” Gary questioned. Mark leant forward, bringing his palms to his face. He covered his nose and mouth and sucked in a breath, his elbows now leaning on his knees. Gary watched him move and he remembered always thinking Mark was such a fidget. Even now, when almost every muscle in Gary’s body tensed, Mark just couldn’t sit still. As if to prove him right Mark sat back up, leaning back and tilting his face up to the ceiling, eyes closed.
“It’s not like that though Gaz...I didn’t want to leave I just...I felt like I had to,” Mark whispered. He didn’t want to say it, it was too much like telling Gary off.
And I have no right to tell him off for anything.
“You had to go away to work out you didn’t love me?” Gary asked. The panic in his voice was so instantly apparent that Mark’s eyes snapped open in a flash.
“I never said that Gaz...I never...that’s not what I...” he stammered. Gary’s brow creased in confusion and Mark let out a groan. This was why he hadn’t wanted to do this; he could plan what he wanted to say to Gary a million times over – and he had – but he couldn’t have known how Gary would react or feel or take in his words. And he wasn’t taking his words in the way Mark needed him to.
To hell with the plan, just let him know, just explain.
“What have you been doing? All this time...no call, no letter...not even to Jay. Jay was worried, you know? He asked around after you. Never told me but...I think he did manage to track you down,” Gary was rambling now and it almost made Mark smile.
“God, what have I been doing? Does it matter?” Mark asked.
Does it matter. Those words again.
“Everything matters. To me it matters. I’ve been sat here on me bill all year...and it all started with...with you,” Gary sighed.
“Please Gaz, I swear it doesn’t matter,” Mark insisted. He hadn’t wanted the conversation to go there, he didn’t want to tell Gary where he had been staying. Not everywhere he’d been staying anyway.
But how exactly is it putting things right if I’m still keeping things hidden from him?
“Tell me,” Gary said firmly and Mark licked his lips thoughtfully. He knew he had to tell him. And he knew that, even if he stalled by telling him about his times with Emma and Jamie and his family, it was going to sting. Sting him and sting Gary. Probably sting the building too, coz goodness knew the building was charged with tension now.
“I stayed with Rob,” Mark said the words as quickly as possible, hoping if he said it quick enough then it would suddenly become less of a big deal.
“Rob,” Gary echoed emptily. Not a question. Not a yell. Not a tearful whisper. Just a statement. Mark risked a glance up at Gary but Gary wasn’t looking at him. He was looking down at the floor, his eyebrows quirked just slightly. He was thinking about something.
God knows what. I hope he’s not thinking me and Rob are...
“He helped me put stuff back into perspective...when I tried to chicken out he made me come...” Mark felt as though he was trying to justify it, though everything in Gary’s expression told him he didn’t need to. His face was far from soft but...there was no anger there.
“The whole year?” Gary asked. Mark wasn’t sure why he wanted to know but he decided telling him couldn’t hurt.
“Three months. I did a lot of other stuff...it’s just...I think...I think it was talking to Rob and...seeing bits of my story in his story that really made me work things out. You know he said...he said that the bit we were all getting wrong, the bit we got stuck on every time, was the feeling we were raised on, that unshakable belief that our lives would have meaning eventually. I mean real, impact-on-the-world meaning. He was like that, I was too...I think maybe you were. That became the important thing. And when things went wrong with any one part of our life, we put it down to that part of our life not being the one to concentrate on. Dismiss it, move on, find the thing we were destined for, y’ know?” Mark said and Gary smiled an odd, distant smile. Not sad, not elated.
Understanding.
“Yeah. I think I know,” he agreed softly.
“You do?” Mark asked, a little surprised. Gary nodded slightly but didn’t look up.
“Yeah. I...I always felt, even in my darkest, most insecure moments, I was just waiting in some big cosmic holding pattern. But now? Well. This past year I think I realised I can be happy without the whole world knowing my name. I have my music...I could’ve done with my mates back maybe...could’ve done with you back maybe...but still. Can’t have everything,” Gary murmured and Mark tilted his head to one side.
“You wanted me back? After the way I left?” he was incredulous. Gary shrugged slightly awkwardly.
“I thought you just said you had to go though? If you had to then...” Gary trailed off and Mark bit his lip, closing his eyes and turning his head away guiltily.
“I know but...well...when I left it was...it was sort of a case of...well, I was trying to prevent you getting sick of my messes and my moping and...I just thought I’d go before you left me,” Mark said to the floor. Gary sighed.
“Another of Robbie’s insights?” he asked quietly and Mark took another deep breath.
“Kind of. We talked a lot, you know? We have a lot in common...although he’s more like you in a lot of ways. But then, he also has enough hang-ups to make Jay look sane. Maybe Rob’s just a bit of everybody...maybe that’s his problem,” Mark smiled slightly.
“I wouldn’t have left you,” Gary remarked suddenly and Mark blinked.
“Really?” he asked and Gary frowned at himself.
“I...I don’t think so,” he said slowly and Mark sighed.
“There was so much damage done Gaz...I wanted...I wanted to sort it out before it came back to hurt me. But...well, self preservation is no explanation for anything really. It just seemed right at the time,” he admitted. Gary nodded and a silence fell upon the two of them.
I thought he’d be angrier than this. I didn’t think he’d listen to me this way. Put up with me. God, he always puts up with me. He always has to be the strong one, poor bastard.
“So it wasn’t you I loved? The entire time?” Gary murmured. Mark looked at his hands.
“Not the entire time I suppose...it wasn’t always shit. It just got to the point where the shit outweighed everything else,” he replied.
“You see...the funny thing is, I don’t think it was me either,” Gary said after a beat and Mark looked up in confusion.
“What?” he frowned and Gary smiled that odd smile again, his lips parted a little and his eyebrows slightly quirked as though he was amazed by something.
“You know, when you’re left on your own in this place and suddenly all your little routines and habits get whisked out from under you, you start to realise what a prat you’ve been. I spent so long wallowing...in the past, when bad stuff happened, I’d just let myself dwell on it and vegetate and expect the people around me to pick up the pieces. And when I wasn’t falling apart, I was trying to be something bigger and better than what I was, bigger and better than everyone and everything. I think that was partly confidence...coz I do know I am a confident person. And it was partly me trying to make up for all the wallowing too. And it occurred to me this past year that all that...it was such a waste. The wallowing...it was pathetic. Because, you know something Markie, I rather enjoy sorting things out? Taking charge, playing that role of organiser. But I don’t enjoy it in the same arrogant way I used to...I don’t think I do anyway. I want to take things on board, I want to...I want to be in control but I want everything that’s going on around me to actually be a part of my choice. But when we were together...I don’t think I had a fucking clue,” Gary explained. Mark smiled slightly.
“You learnt all that in a year?” he asked with tentative playfulness. And, to his great relief, Gary smiled back, his eyes equally light.
“Eh, it was a bloody long year,” he teased back. For a moment they looked at each other with lightly laughing smiles.
I shouldn’t be able to laugh. I shouldn’t be allowed to laugh. He should be strangling me or throwing things at me or...well, I’m glad he’s not.
“So you weren’t you and I wasn’t me...” Mark whispered as their smiles faded. Gary pursed his lips.
“No...I guess not,” he replied.
“I really did love you though, even when everything got really messed up...I loved you,” Mark sighed.
“Yeah. And I really did love you too,” Gary agreed. Mark almost smiled.
“Where does that leave us then?” he asked, resting his chin on his hand and leaning slightly on the piano. Gary mirrored his pose thoughtfully.
“God, I wish I knew Markie...but I think this is probably the first time in a long time where I don’t think I’m in any position to take control. You were the one who left, you’re the one who should know the next move,” he shrugged and Mark smiled a small, faintly amused, smile.
“You did sort of just take charge there you know,” he grinned, his face glowing briefly.
“Told you Marko, I’m a new man,” Gary chuckled.
Five minutes of silence passed. Not awkward silence, not strained or tense or angry. Not any of the things Mark had expected to find when he had come here. The silence wasn’t even still – which was strange given the all-pervading stillness that had been dwelling in that shop for so long – it was a silence filled with a swirl of dust, as if someone had gone through blowing on the tops of all the bookcases. Mark chewed his lip and Gary looked into his tea.
No biscuit – I did notice. He really is a new man.
Suddenly Mark sat upright on his piano stool and when Gary looked across at him he could see sparks of every colour imaginable dancing across Mark’s eyes. A refreshing change from the nervous grey they had been since Mark had first returned to his doorstep. Gary watched the multicoloured sparks bounce back and forth with increasing intensity until suddenly Mark bobbed up, all life and action. He smiled a smile at Gary that Gary knew so well, a smile Gary had missed so much. The sort of smile that sent a fresh swirl amidst the dust and lifted Gary’s slumped shoulders. And then, without a word, Mark walked out of the room.
Gary sat blinking, confused. He didn’t hear the shop’s bell, but he couldn’t hear Mark’s footsteps on the floorboards either. He sat up straighter and looked through the door to the shop-floor. And that was when Mark came bounding back in. There was a slight bob in his step, just as there always had been, but there was still a slightly jaded crease around his eyes as he smiled. He walked purposefully down the small step and across the room, bypassing the piano stool and heading straight towards Gary. His clothes were the clothes of someone older, someone who’d seem more of the world. His face had a similar quality to it. There was a small gold cross around his neck and less styling to his hair. He thrust his hand towards Gary and smiled with polite brightness.
“My name is Mark Owen, born in Oldham, taller than I look, smoke more than I should but at least I’m trying to cut down my drink, I can play guitar and piano and I would go insane without music, I do like fashion and I do take my clothes seriously, I used to think I wanted fame and fortune then realised it was too much hard work, when I laugh I tend to distract people a lot but I can’t help it that I get the giggles easily, people say I’m in my own world sometimes and I probably am, I love sugar and will add it to almost anything, I enjoy giving to people (time, company, presents, you know the stuff) but sometimes I give too much and I don’t remember myself...I’ve been a bit of a prat in the past and I’ve made a mess of my life, but I’m working on putting it right...and I’m absolutely delighted to meet you,” Mark babbled, quick and bright and infectiously hopeful. All the things Gary remembered loving about Mark.
The important stuff hasn’t changed then.
Mark’s eyes scanned Gary’s face and then scanned all of him up and down. It was as though he was properly looking at him for the first time since he had arrived. Gary had changed too, he noted. He was thinner, for a start. His eyes seemed to shine more too; it seemed to be a side-effect of the greater certainty with which he carried himself. His shoulders were squared more, his face lighter somehow. Stubble still grazed his cheeks though. And Mark was sure the striped jumper Gary had on had been a gift from him two Christmases back. Gary’s lips slowly curled up into a smile. The Barlow smile was what Mark knew that to be. The Barlow smile that provoked in Mark a very Owen smile.
That Owen dazzle. Razzle dazzle – we always had the showbiz gene in common!
Slowly Gary slid his hand into Mark’s, meeting Mark’s eyes.
“Gary Barlow...wannabe piano-man, born in Frodsham, don’t smoke but am making no effort at all to cut back on my drinking, good old-fashioned Northern charmer, tendency to boss people around, self-confessed musical genius with a flair for stand-up comedy (honest, I’ll have you in stitches given a chance), love giving too but a bit better at stopping, I actually enjoy working hard and working well, what many would call dull but my friends don’t seem to mind, cheesy (dreadfully cheesy, I must warn you, and sentimental too, I’ll cry at anything) and I can often be found sitting at that lovely piano over there pretending it’s the O2 arena...and that’s about it. Well, other than one small detail...” Gary beamed and Mark swallowed, suddenly nervous.
“Small detail?” he asked. Gary’s smile broadened.
“Well I...I’m absolutely and totally in love with you...still...” he smiled.
“Still?” Mark grinned, all excitement once more.
“Still,” Gary agreed swiftly, making Mark laugh.
“Well that all sounds great, Mr.Barlow...but can I just ask, is there any chance you’d let me add one more thing to my introduction?” Mark replied.
“Be my guest, Mr.Owen,” Gary agreed.
“My name is Mark Owen, born in Oldham, taller than I look, smoke more than I should but at least I’m trying to cut down my drink, I can play guitar and piano and I would go insane without music, I do like fashion and I do take my clothes seriously, I used to think I wanted fame and fortune then realised it was too much hard work, when I laugh I tend to distract people a lot but I can’t help it that I get the giggles easily, people say I’m in my own world sometimes and I probably am, I love sugar and will add it to almost anything, I enjoy giving to people (time, company, presents, you know the stuff) but sometimes I give too much and I don’t remember myself...I’ve been a bit of a prat in the past and I’ve made a mess of my life, but I’m working on putting it right, I’m absolutely delighted to meet you and...and I am still totally in love with you too,” Mark breathed. Gary nodded thoughtfully, smiling and tightening the handshake.
“So you won’t mind if I kiss you right now then?” he asked casually and Mark laughed.
“Mind?! It would be the highlight of my fucking year!” he told Gary brightly and Gary needed no more cue; he tugged on Mark’s hand and pulled him down into his lap, capturing his lips with ease. Neither one of them had any clue if that fixed anything, neither one of them was quite sure they had apologised well enough or explained themselves clearly enough. But they both knew for sure they were the people they wanted to be, had always hoped they could be. And it had no effect on the way each felt about the other.
“Guess it’s possible to grow-up apart but still be in love together,” Gary mused absently and Mark smiled, leaning his forehead against Gary’s.
“Or maybe it’s possible to grow-up together by being in love whilst apart,” he suggested and, chuckling, Gary gave his nose an affectionate kiss.
Chapter Twelve
The first thing he was aware of was the three shades of orange the room was cast in by the dim bedside lamp which lit it; it was just about all he could make out through his eyelashes and it was enough to make him close his eyes a moment longer, savouring the way the pillow scrunched softly beneath him. That was the deepest sleep he had had in months, of that he was sure, and as he lay there he slowly tried to unpick the reasons. He could feel Howard’s coat still partially covering him as well as the duvet and his lips quirked into a small smile. He wondered at the fact he had managed to sleep so well in a room that, just a few hours ago, had hosted such a dangerous fight. And it had been dangerous – if Howard hadn’t followed him...he wasn’t sure where he would have gone, but wherever it was it wouldn’t have helped him. Nowhere could. What he had needed was Howard’s apology. And what Howard had needed was not, as Jason had feared, Jason Donald. It was the sort of truth only Jason Orange could give him.
And an apology for being daft enough to try and hide that truth.
Somehow he had known though, even as he was running out of the door he had known. Perhaps that was why he had only gotten as far as the bench – he had known running wouldn’t fix things and he had known that Howard wouldn’t have let things remain unfixed. They were as tenacious as each other and both were attached to the notion of resolution. There was no way Howard would have let Jason disappear over a few words he had never even meant. For a moment Jason had thought he had stopped on that bench because Howard wanted him to stop. But now, looking back on it with greater clarity and Howard’s words in his head, he could see the truth of the entire thing; Howard may have wanted him to stop, but essentially that was irrelevant. Jason had wanted Howard to want him to stop. So he had stopped.
I felt like he was trapping me before, but now I look at it I know I wasn’t exactly putting up a fight.
Slowly Jason pushed himself up in bed, Howard’s coat falling from him. He looked around and stifled a yawn. When Jason had fallen asleep Howard had been by his side, one arm arching protectively around the back of Jason’s pillow as if to try and ward off all the many thoughts that usually pervaded his husband’s sleep and prevented his rest, but now Howard was sitting on the edge of the bed, his back slightly hunched over something. Jason untangled himself from the duvet, pushing himself across to sit just behind his husband, his arms slowly wrapping around his middle. He placed a kiss to the crook of Howard’s neck then rested his chin on his shoulder. Howard smiled slightly as he felt Jason’s body press against his own, but he continued to look down at what he was doing; taking cigarettes from a packet one by one, breaking each then throwing them into a bin at his feet.
“What time is it?” Jason asked, yawning again.
“Half three I think, just about. I thought you wanted your rest,” Howard replied without pausing.
“I did...believe it or not that was the best sleep I’ve had in ages, even if it was just a couple of hours,” Jason told him honestly.
“I didn’t wake you did I?” Howard asked him and Jason smiled at his concern.
“No. Although, if you don’t mind me pointing this out, this looks like an incredible waste of money,” he remarked, stretching up slightly to peer over Howard’s shoulder and into the bin.
“Necessary waste though. It’s quite therapeutic actually,” Howard said softly, throwing another cigarette into the bin as he spoke. He paused a moment to glance at Jason then, with a small smile, he turned back to take another cigarette from the pack.
“Fair enough. Mind if I help?” Jason asked and Howard shrugged.
“Sure, just grab a pack from the side,” he answered, nodding to a pile of cigarette packets on the bedside table. Jason glanced over and raised an eyebrow before reaching over and gabbing one.
“Christ love, how many a day were you on?” he remarked as he moved himself round to sit next to Howard on the bed. Howard chuckled slightly shyly, glancing up at Jason briefly to make sure he wasn’t wrong about the note of humour he had thought he heard in his words. Jason’s eyes glittered slightly as they met Howard’s and he knew he had been right. Jason quirked his eyebrows once more to try and prompt Howard’s response and Howard looked down, shrugging and taking another cigarette from the pack as Jason tossed one into the bin.
Come on Donald, shock me.
“Honestly? I think I just decided I would rather smoke fifty cigarettes before lunch than have one later and have to fight with you,” Howard admitted quietly. Another cigarette was tossed in the bin. Jason paused, looking at Howard carefully, before reaching across and touching a hand to his cheek.
“That’s almost sweet...in all the wrong ways,” he murmured and Howard let out a small chuckle, looking down from Jason’s gaze.
“Well, doesn’t that just sum us up?” he sighed. Jason’s eyes were glittering again now, Howard could tell without looking up. They were dancing with neither mirth nor joy but something else, something Howard had always seen in those eyes. Even in the worst times he had seen it there. When Jason looked at him that way he almost felt like the hero he always wanted to be for him. Almost. Though he dared suspect he was actually something better than that for being the sole owner of that look.
“Now I know you don’t really believe that,” Jason said gently and Howard finally looked up at him.
“No. Not really. We’re not even a little bit sweet,” he smiled and Jason laughed softly.
Nice try love, but you know you don’t distract me that easily.
“Come on, How, tell me what you’re really thinking,” he said after a moment and Howard sighed, looking down once more, almost wincing. Jason placed a gentle hand on his arm.
“You just woke up and you already want to go there?” Howard asked with a rueful smile.
“That look on your face tells me you know I do. Come on, How,” Jason replied, squeezing Howard’s arm briefly. Howard reluctantly looked up into Jason’s eyes.
“I guess I just...I need to know Jay,” he sighed and Jason frowned.
“Know what?” he pressed.
After a long silence had passed Howard took a breath and Jason looked up.
“I was thinking...when you fell asleep I just, I started to process it all and...and it occurred to me that out there, when we were talking...I was so focused on fixing the breakdown, you know? I was worrying so much about the fact we’d stopped communicating and we’d let it go on so long, that I didn’t have time to even begin to worry about the other things. Like what you said...about...about not eating. What Monika said about you not eating. And the more I thought the more I...it’s just...were you...were you trying to....shit Jay don’t make me say it. Coz I know, Jay, I remember what your doctor told you, before we went, before Mark had even left. About how thin you were. I know how much risk there is if you get ill, never mind if you deliberately don’t eat and I...I don’t think I could stand it if that was what you wanted, never mind if I was the one who made you want to do it but...were you...were you trying to kill yourself?” Howard confessed at last, closing his eyes as he spoke. Jason watched him, sympathy and understanding crossing his face briefly before his expression turned to thought. When he didn’t reply right away, Howard opened his eyes, watching Jason, a ball of nervousness forming in his throat and scratching him painfully.
“No,” Jason stated at last. Quiet, simple. Certain.
“No?” Howard repeated. He wasn’t sure if he was repeating that with hope or with confusion. Or perhaps he was just making sure he had heard Jason correctly.
“No, I wasn’t,” Jason said, more gently this time, his hand moving from Howard’s arm to his neck, his eyes bright as they scanned Howard’s face.
“When I got thinking Jay I...I tried to rack my brains, I tried to reassure myself but I just couldn’t. I was trying to think when the last time you actually had a meal was and...and I couldn’t remember. And it occurred to me that Monika wouldn’t have said anything if it was different when I was gone, you know? I mean, if she noticed and she’s been here the whole time...you’re lucky you’re not in hospital or something, Jay. You’re lucky you’re not ill or dying or...you weren’t even trying to do anything about it and...and I didn’t even notice...” Howard was talking mostly to his hands but Jason edged closer to him once more. Jason knew Howard was incapable of not looking at him when he was this close.
“I know it wasn’t good...I do know that. And I shouldn’t have done it. I suppose I just didn’t see it as taking a risk. I mean...honestly? I don’t think it was really a conscious choice, Howard. I was just...I was just putting everything on hold. Things like that just seemed secondary. I was worrying about bigger things than what I wanted for dinner, you know? I swear to you Howard – you never could make me want to kill myself. You know it’s not the sort of person I am and...even if I was? It would never be you. Not ever,” Jason was adamant. But Howard wavered.
“Jay...” he began but Jason simply shook his head.
“Howard, it would never happen. The way I love you it just...I don’t have a cut-off point, you know? There’s nothing you can do to make me call time. You can drive me insane. And yeah, you know, I think...I think we drove each other insane for a while there. And it wasn’t the first time either. But we don’t run away from it. When we were younger, in other relationships, in relationships that didn’t matter as much, that didn’t see us grow so much with someone else, then yeah, maybe there would have been that line. But with you...I know there’ll be fights sometimes. But it doesn’t put me off, I know better than to think I could ever get away from you. You’re a part of what’s made me who I am now, and that’s irreversible,” he assured Howard slowly and Howard felt his lips curve into a faint smile.
“No beginning, no end,” he whispered and Jason frowned.
“What?” he asked and Howard’s smile widened.
“What you said; the best romances don’t start and they don’t end,” he murmured and Jason smiled.
“I meant it,” Jason assured him and Howard leant across to kiss him once on his lips.
Howard glanced away again then, shaking his head ever-so-slightly.
“It’s funny, you know...everyone thinks we’re so fucking perfect, that we just...we have this thing between us and we always know how to deal with it, we always understand how to hold onto it even when things get hard. They think we’re so perfect even though we’ve almost thrown it away so many times. Sometimes I wish we were as perfect as they think we are...we wouldn’t have to have fights then. We could just cut to that bit out in the snow where you told me you loved me and I got to hold you and...to you falling asleep next to me...looking at me that way...” Howard trailed off, swallowing hard and closing his eyes.
“There’s no such thing as a perfect relationship, Howard. I know what people think. And I know it would be nice if it was that easy but...it wouldn’t be as special as it is if it just happened that way. There’s no such thing as a perfect relationship. But there is forgiveness for the things that we didn’t do or did wrong and want to change. And then there’s acceptance of the things we can’t change about each other, the things we can’t change that have happened in the past, the things we’ll forever be fighting to work around. Or, at the very least, there’s a constant battle, an effort, to try and get to those places with each other,” Jason spoke steadily, his eyes not leaving Howard’s face for a moment. And as he spoke Howard looked over at him. Really looked as well. He saw everything Jason was and he saw it was a nightmare. In many ways it was at least. He saw everything that Jason was and he saw that, in a lot of ways, it was everything he used to try to avoid in people he had dated. He saw all the reasons why the thing Jason was – beautiful creature but full of complications – shouldn’t fit the thing he was. But more importantly he saw all the ways he and Jason had made themselves fit, all the things that might look impossible to fuse that they had taken the time make glorious. He thought back over their conversation in the snow. Forgiveness and acceptance. If their relationship wasn’t about those things they would have missed so much. Maybe they would have missed tonight even; maybe Jason would have kept on walking until he reached the train station, disappeared forever, taken the easy way out. He hadn’t done that though. He had stayed and he had waited and he had fought and forgiven and accepted. Nothing was broken irreparably here, because they could both still look at each other this way. Hold each other this way. They couldn’t change their actions but they could understand why they had made them. Accept it, forgive it and just...carry on.
“But just look at the mess we made,” Howard pointed out with a small glimmer of mischief and Jason laughed.
“Well you might be shy and I might be insecure, but we are a pair of exhibitionists at heart,” he pointed out playfully, leaning his forehead against Howard’s, winking once and making Howard chuckle as he took him more firmly into his arms.
“So then...where on earth do we go from here?” Howard asked him seriously and Jason narrowed his eyes a little in thought. Howard brushed some of Jason’s hair from his forehead and Jason leant against him.
“Actually, believe it or not, I don’t even care right now,” Jason murmured at last and Howard raised an eyebrow.
“You? You don’t care? About plans, about the future, about all the things we have to sort out? You’re able to just brush that off, without even worrying about it or analysing it or anything?” Howard looked at Jason steadily but Jason simply laughed.
“We can worry about it in the morning. For now I just...I just want...” Jason stopped and Howard looked at him intently, desperate to try and anticipate whatever need Jason was about to express. Jason pursed his lips.
“Yes?” Howard pressed and Jason almost laughed as he looked into his husband’s anxious eyes.
“I just want to be a complete fucking cliché and say that...I just want you,” Jason shrugged at last. And, before Howard had time for any more questions, Jason had pressed his lips firmly against Howard’s, wrapping his arms tightly around him and burying a hand in Howard’s dark curls. Howard was caught off guard at first, but was quick to move his lips against Jason’s in response, closing his eyes as the kiss deepened, and he felt himself being pushed back against the pillows by Jason’s gentle hands.
As Howard’s hands moved to pull the hoody from Jason’s frame, both men tensed slightly, hearing the interruptive sound of Jason’s mobile buzzing against his bedside table. Howard tried to coax Jason deeper into the kiss but Jason’s eyes were open and straying in the direction of his phone.
“Leave it, who the hell even calls at three in the morning?!” Howard pleaded hopelessly against Jason’s lips but Jason simply laughed softly, giving Howard a parting peck on his lips before rolling himself across the bed, grabbing his phone and lying down. Howard crawled across the bed towards him, wrapping an arm around his waist and resuming kissing Jason’s neck. Jason laughed once more, stretching a little away from him but not breaking their contact as he answered the call. He pressed the speaker button and attempted to push Howard off him, biting back another laugh as Howard fought back, tugging at his hoody once more. Jason smiled and turned his head towards the phone and away from Howard so he could talk.
“Jason speaking.”
Chapter Thirteen
It was a secluded stretch of the Thames where he found him. He was sitting alone, leaning back on his hands, his legs stretched out in front of him. There was no reason for him to look over there when he did, and indeed there was nothing particularly unusual about the sight of someone sitting alone by the river late at night. Usually that sight would make him quicken his pace, keen to avoid any down-and-outs. Yet still, that night, paused. Because when it came to that man he was sure he would always possess a certain instinct. The spot probably wasn’t the prettiest; this area was not the glamorous part of London that the tourists came for, but there was a certain peace here that allowed you to think. He had learned very soon after arriving in London that it was like nowhere else in the country in feeling; beautiful in its own way but rarely tranquil. He came to this spot himself sometimes, when no other drifters were around. Maybe that was the real reason he had glanced over, that seemed a more likely theory than anything else. Though he later wondered if perhaps some things really are just down to fate – a thought he wouldn’t share.
“Mark Owen, what the hell are you doing out here, all alone, at this time of night?” the words, as a reunion greeting, were perhaps not perfect. But Robbie had never trusted perfect things. Mark, for his part, seemed to be too placid or too disconsolate to care that these were the first words he had heard Robbie Williams say in almost a year. If Robbie had to judge, he would say Mark wasn’t even remotely perturbed by the unlikely scenario of their chancing an encounter such as this. But then, simply bumping into people in London didn’t tend to happen by chance and this was his area of London, he supposed. But, strangely, Mark didn’t seem to have come to hunt him down.
“This isn’t how I imagined it would be, Rob,” Mark half-murmured at last. Robbie looked at him carefully a moment then put his hands in his pockets and tilted his head to one side.
“How what would be Markie?” he asked softly.
“This. Life. I screwed everything up, Rob, I screwed it all up and I just...I don’t know how to make it right,” Mark’s eyes shone slightly with the light that reflected off the water and Robbie turned his own eyes towards the river before them.
“No one ever does but the world seems to go on ok,” he sighed.
“I left Gaz. I didn’t...I didn’t mean it to be forever or...but I know I can’t go back. Problem is that now I’ve got nowhere else to go and nowhere left that’s home,” Mark told him. There was no threat of tears in his voice; his sadness was a resigned sort of sadness. The sort of sadness you only really get to hear in people’s voices when they get grounded by bad weather in airports a long way from where they wanted to be. But then, perhaps that’s exactly what Mark was; stranded a long way from home. Robbie wondered if he should ask why Mark had left or press for why he felt he couldn’t go back. But he couldn’t bring himself to make Mark’s eyes gleam with any more melancholy than was already there. He let out a long sigh and sat himself down next to Mark on the bank.
“So you thought you’d come to London? Coz the rents are so notoriously cheap here you know,” he teased softly and Mark’s lips quirked into a small smile.
“I don’t know why I came here. I’ve always been fascinated by London, you know? It’s so...well, it’s not Manchester. And Manchester’s all I’ve ever known really. I never got out much, when I was younger,” Mark mused and Robbie nodded.
“So you didn’t come to find me then?” he ventured.
“I think part of me hoped I’d find you. Hoping was obviously enough though,” Mark replied with a shrug, glancing over at Robbie with another half-smile. Robbie smiled back and nodded once more.
“I guess it was. I’m surprised I’m not more surprised, you know? The odds are against it happening like this,” he said, gesturing to the two of them sitting side by side. Mark shrugged again before looking back out to the river.
“I remembered your pub wasn’t far,” he dismissed softly.
For a few moments the two sat in silence, both watching the river with dark eyes. There was history in the air between them, but both men knew that was something they would both be forced to carry with them forever. They just had the sort of personalities that forced them to carry their past around with them on their backs – sometimes a burden but always a useful reminder of mistakes that shouldn’t be made again. Breaking the stillness Mark shifted his weight and produced a packet of cigarettes from the pocket of his jeans. He offered one to Robbie, who accepted wordlessly. They lit up in silence and continued their watch over the water. It was Robbie who broke the quiet first.
“So you left Gary?” he asked nervously. Mark looked down and closed his eyes, rubbing one thumb along his lip.
“I had to get out, you know? I couldn’t be there anymore. I was fighting to keep up the whole time, trying not to let anything break me no matter what happened and...I couldn’t do it anymore. I needed to learn to look after myself without self-destructing. I couldn’t do that if he was there behind me trying to help. I had too much help all that time and I forgot about helping myself,” he explained slowly, carefully avoiding Robbie’s gaze.
“I get that,” Robbie said simply and Mark’s lips twitched in a hint of a smile.
“Yeah. Well, it doesn’t matter now anyway. I can’t go back. I took too long and...and somewhere along the way I realised I can’t ever have been all that honest with him...he loves someone that I just...I’m not. I don’t know how to tell him that...I can’t tell him that. I mean...if he doesn’t love me, how can I even know I really love him? You’re honest with people you love and I’ve...I haven’t been honest in so long. I just don’t know what to do, Rob. I don’t know what to do,” Mark admitted, talking even more softly now. Robbie looked away as Mark spoke, looking back at the water. He sighed. He couldn’t tell Mark he was wrong, it wasn’t his place to judge that. But he wanted to help him. Somehow. He owed him that much and more.
“Well...well if you need somewhere to go then...why don’t you come with me?” he suggested. Timidly, almost. Mark took so long to react Robbie half-suspected he hadn’t remembered to speak his offer aloud. But after a moment Mark looked over at him, his head on one side.
“With you?” he repeated quietly.
“I’m packing up Markie, I’m going back to Stoke. Coz I er...I realised some things about myself too you know. I realised I’ve never really been at home anywhere. Not since you and me certainly. I’m not even sure I was at home where I was born. You and me, right now, we’re homeless. We might have beds for the night or places we should be but...nothing can stop us not belonging, you know? Nothing can stop that feeling,” Robbie shrugged. Mark glanced down at the ground.
“Yeah,” he agreed simply. Robbie closed his eyes.
“Look...all I know is...all I know is that Stoke – on account of being made to feel pretty unwelcome by the rest of the world – it has this warmth for its own, you know? It has a warmth for everyone who’s from there...and for anyone willing to ignore the bad press and give it a chance. There’s a lot of love in Stoke, as long as you’re willing to look past the reputation,” he smiled and Mark smiled back at him, his eyes fond and dimly shining.
“Sounds a lot like someone I know,” he pointed out and Robbie forced down a smile.
“Yeah well. Stoke is in me, Markie. That’s why I’m going back. Figure I owe the place,” Robbie brushed off quickly, but Mark’s eyes still twinkled slightly at him through the dark.
“You know...I think that was my logic when I came here hoping to see you,” he told Robbie gently. The two men paused in silence again. Robbie stubbed out his cigarette, still avoiding Mark’s gaze.
“So...you want to come with? We can job-hunt together? We won’t even say Gary Barlow’s name...if we haven’t said his name for a few months and you’ve hardly noticed? I’ll drop it. If it’s killing you and there’s no name on earth you’d rather hear? You admit he’s the love of your life and go back and tell him everything. Deal?” Robbie tried. Mark looked at him a moment then slowly extended his hand for Robbie to shake.
“Deal,” he agreed. Robbie nodded slowly, taking Mark’s hand and shaking it firmly.
“Where you staying?” Robbie asked over the handshake.
“Just up the road,” Mark replied.
“Come on then, let’s get you back in the warm then we can sort stuff out in the morning,” Robbie concluded before heaving himself back up to stand, pulling Mark up with him.
“Sounds good,” Mark nodded simply and he and Robbie turned and walked away.
As they walked in silence, Robbie watched Mark. He saw the sadness in his eyes and he wanted to fix it, he truly did. But something in the pit of his stomach told him Mark needed to work a few things out for himself first. It couldn’t hurt to give him a little push though.
“Look, Markie...no one falls in love with the perfect people, you know that, right? I mean...whatever you think you sold him, whatever lies you think Gary Barlow bought into when he fell in love with you...they’re not going to be the reason. People only really fall in love with the flawed ones – they love because of the flaws, they love the person those flaws make. The broken people and the perfect people...they’re almost one and the same. There’s something missing from them, they’re not real people. They can’t be loved, there’s gaps where the love should be. If he loves you, Markie, he’s still going to love you if – when – you go back to him,” Robbie said suddenly into the quiet, his eyes dead straight. He didn’t want to look at Mark in case he saw the sadness there and let it hold him back from saying everything he wanted to. Mark simply looked up at him with mild incredulity.
“But...Rob...I...I was into him so fast. Like a sudden fix from a bowl of sugar, you know? And before I knew it he had become so much to me. I was so caught up I could...I couldn’t move to stop it or to explain anything...” Mark trailed off and looked away. Robbie smiled sadly.
“Markie, you wouldn’t have had to explain. I don’t know how long you two knew each other or what it was like but...he knew you long enough, Markie. He knew you long enough to love you. It doesn’t take long knowing you to love you,” he murmured. Mark slowly lifted his gaze and he studied Robbie intently. Biting his lip he studied the hard lines of his face – those eyes were so tenacious and so bright. He took a step towards Robbie then and balanced on his tiptoes so he could press a lingering kiss against his lips. And Robbie let him without protest. Slowly Mark pulled back and looked up into Robbie’s face.
“It’s not the same,” he said slowly and Robbie laughed slightly.
“Not the same?” he questioned and Mark smiled wistfully, looking down.
“Nothing is the same as...as kissing Gaz,” he whispered. Robbie simply smiled. A smile that told Mark a lot of things. A smile that told him that Robbie knew Mark’s only home was Gary. A smile that told him that Robbie hadn’t really been at home at all since the two of them had split up. A smile that told him Robbie wasn’t going to let him make that same mistake.
“Gaz wait!” Mark’s outburst took both men by surprise, and Gary stilled immediately as Mark’s hand caught hold of his own, stopping him putting the key in the front door. Gary looked over and met Mark’s eyes. There were creases there that hadn’t been before – Mark had always felt everything so deeply and the thought occurred to Gary that that really was beginning to catch up with him.
“What’s wrong?” Gary asked softly, concern edging his voice. Mark closed his eyes.
Don’t make me say it Gaz, I want so badly not to say it at all.
“I can’t go in there,” he whispered. Gary frowned, looking from the door to Mark and back again as though he thought there was some force-field there just waiting to bounce Mark’s small body right back when he touched it.
“Why not?!” Gary asked with such genuine confusion that Mark had to smile, if a little sadly.
Oh Gaz.
“Gaz I...I don’t belong in there...it’s not...I don’t...look, are we really sure we can do this? We’ve barely thought about this, we haven’t...we didn’t stop to think...after all this time and...and with what I told you...” Mark couldn’t form sentences and, without realising, his fingers gripped a little more tightly at Gary’s hand.
“What are you babbling about, Marko?” Gary asked gently, his usually sharp blue eyes suddenly tender as he turned slightly to face Mark properly.
“I...I just...Gaz, I’m never going to be that guy I was trying to be, I’m never going to be ok, not properly. I’m always going to be screwed up and things are always going to screw me up. I’m always going to be trying to keep my head above water...and I might not always be winning the battle, you know?” Mark sighed and Gary watched as his head bowed slightly. He took a step closer to Mark, cupping Mark’s cheek in his hand. Pianists hands, Mark thought absently.
Big and broad – an impossible combination of clumsy and precise. That’s just Gaz all over.
“Marko, look at me,” Gary said softly and Mark took a deep breath.
“Gaz...” he began but Gary shook his head slightly.
“Look at me,” he repeated, and this time Mark gave up any attempt at resistance.
“What?” he asked, his eyes reluctantly meeting Gary’s.
“I know you know me, Mark Owen. I know that you know what I think about love – you probably think I think about it too much but I can’t help it. It’s the one thing I’ve believed in resolutely my whole life. Jay’s had honesty, Howard’s had stubbornness...and I’ve had love. And love is just...different. It works outside the normal rules that perfection is beautiful and flaws are unnatural. Love is naturally flawed, I think, because it relies on you looking at the things that screw people up and loving them all the more for it. You give everything, Markie, and you look at every detail. It’d drive any man mad if he let it. But...in my eyes that just...it makes you amazing, it makes you beautiful. I’m not expecting to sail around the world and not meet a single storm. But then, I’m not expecting the Titanic either. And you and me, we both work hard at everything we do, don’t we? So why not work hard at us?” Gary murmured, his thumb gently stroking Mark’s cheek as he spoke. Mark watched him in awe.
I want to agree with him. I want to. I do.
“Is it really supposed to be so bloody? Such a fucking war?” he whispered.
“Name me one really good love-song that genuinely swore it was always going to be ok,” Gary smiled. And Mark had to smile back at that. He looked down and swallowed.
“I don’t know Gaz,” he sighed. Gary tucked a strand of Mark’s hair back into place and tipped his head up so their eyes met again.
“Mark Owen, are you telling me you are broken beyond recognition?” he asked.
“No...flawed but not broken,” Mark replied slowly. Gary held back the smile from his lips, but Mark could see it dancing in his eyes. And somewhere inside him, he gave in. He actually took in Gary’s words and he knew, with complete certainty, that Gary was right.
“Are you fatally, mortally, lethally wounded?” Gary pressed and Mark almost laughed.
“No. Scarred but...the wounds will heal eventually. I’ll heal eventually,” he nodded slowly.
“So, what you’re trying to tell me is: you’re human?” Gary clarified playfully, and this time Mark let the laugh escape, every corner of his eyes lighting up. The sound of sparklers crossed Gary’s mind.
“Yeah, I think so,” Mark chuckled and Gary beamed back at him broadly.
“Good. Coz so am I. Now – are you going to let me open the damn door or are we going to live out here together?” he questioned and Mark smiled, slowly letting go of Gary’s hand. He was confident of the fact that being inside the life Gary had built without him would be uncomfortable and awkward and it would make him want to run away. And he was confident of the fact they still needed to talk so many other things over – like what he’d been doing for a year, for a start. But Gary was taking charge of it all, he was taking command and he was saying it would be alright. He was saying it would never be perfect but it would always be beautiful. And that was more than enough to convince Mark to follow Gary inside the flat.
Just take his lead. He’s enjoying leading so much, so let him.
They talked until the sun had gone down and beyond and there wasn’t a single thing either one of them said that changed the other’s heart. It occurred to Mark, and he nervously confessed it to Gary, that in the end, Robbie Williams had been completely and utterly right. For a moment Mark missed Robbie with each and every one of the nerve endings in his body and Gary let him without a flicker of selfish desire to have Mark’s heart all to himself. Mark was grateful for that.
Both of them were so suddenly alive again that it took them a while to notice that the atmosphere hadn’t changed. Manchester was still strangely hollow. It was two in the morning before either of them recovered their senses enough to remember that friendship, though rarely used in song lyrics or novels, was just as important a form of love as any other.
Mark handed Gary the phone and with nervous fingers he dialled.
“Jason speaking.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Jason speaking,” the voice that came down the line didn’t sound like Jason somehow.
“Wow, you’re up! Should’ve known I guess...you keep DJ’s hours,” Gary replied with a soft chuckle, glancing at his watch and shaking his head.
“I keep my own hours, Gaz,” Jason told him curtly and Gary stopped smiling immediately. It wasn’t the greeting he had been expecting.
“Alright, alright. You must be waiting up for a call from him though, yeah? You’re an hour ahead over there so it’s...what, three thirty?” he asked and there was a small pause on the other end, as though Jason was debating the pros and cons of sharing the information on the tip of his tongue.
“Howard already called actually, I was just getting ready for bed when you rang,” Jason murmured at last. Gary could hear something in Jason’s voice, a certain reluctance, though reluctance over what Gary couldn’t be sure.
“Thought as much,” Gary nodded slowly. Jason simply sighed.
“Is there something wrong?” he asked and Gary blinked, taken aback by Jason’s down-to-business tone. He frowned and shook his head.
“No, no. Well, I wanted to let you know a parcel came to the apartment for you, obviously someone a bit slow on the uptake. But I forwarded it, should be coming to you tomorrow if I did my maths correctly. Would’ve called earlier but it completely slipped my mind until the moment I got into bed. Thought I’d leave a message so you knew to be in tomorrow,” Gary explained.
“Monika will be here, I’ll let her know. Cheers, Gaz,” Jason said and Gary raised his eyebrows.
“Oh? And where are you off to?” he questioned. Again Jason paused. A long pause, a noticeable one.
“Nowhere. Just...well, Howard needs me to bring some stuff to him in Berlin. When he called just now he begged me to get on a train and bring it to him right this minute. I caved in and compromised with him, said I’d go first thing tomorrow. I don’t know...maybe I shouldn’t go but...well, he needs it for the gig tomorrow and I don’t want to be the reason he loses his regular slot with these guys,” he admitted softly and Gary nodded.
“Howard Donald would forget his own head if it wasn’t screwed on. You’re lucky he remembers to come home to you,” he smiled wryly. Jason laughed with what Gary would have said, if he didn’t know Jason better, was bitterness.
“He doesn’t always,” he muttered. Gary was fairly confident he wasn’t supposed to have heard that.
“Well, anyway, you’re still lucky to have him, right?” he tried.
“Am I really? And how do you figure that I’m the lucky one in my relationship?” Jason demanded, suddenly abrupt and sharp. Gary blinked then laughed nervously.
“Um, because you finally met a man whose hours of business don’t clash horribly with the hours you tend to keep?!” he joked but Jason didn’t laugh.
“Of course, coz I should have to fit in. You know, it’s so convenient of me, being an insomniac and all. If I wasn’t, who would Howard call in the early hours of the morning when he needed a cross-country bail-out. And God only knows who Howard would turn to when he wanted a post-work sh...” Jason was talking quickly now and Gary didn’t have time to process half of what was said before he leapt in and cut Jason off.
“Sorry, sorry! Christ, Jay. I thought you enjoyed following him around, you seemed happy enough at Christmas,” Gary interrupted. Jason was silent a moment.
“Following him around? Is that what you think of me?” he asked softly. Gary winced.
“I didn’t mean...look, I just meant he’s turning into a celebrity or something over there right now. He’s getting more than enough money for the two of you, I don’t know why you don’t just pack in your job and travel with him. You should. Wouldn’t matter so much if he forgot to come back home then would it, you’d be with him! You were enjoying it at Christmas. I saw you up there in the DJ booths dancing. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you much happier,” Gary shrugged.
“Pack my job in?!” Jason questioned, his tone still edged with anger.
“Why not? I mean...the way you explained it to me, it doesn’t make much difference to the budget, it’s just to keep you occupied. So let Howard keep you occupied instead, I’m sure that’d make him a very happy man,” Gary explained.
“Oh, I’m sure it would. I should just be his toy then, should I? What about me? What kind of an identity does that leave me with? Even less of an identity than I’ve already got!” Jason all but hissed. It was only then that Gary’s own anger surged.
“Look, at least you have someone who wants you to be his toy. Or had you forgotten that I have been dropped like a stone back here? And not just by the man I loved. You should know, eh, Jay, you remember don’t you? The way my fucking mates deserted me too?” he shot back. Jason laughed mirthlessly.
“Deserted you?! I tried, Gaz. I tried to make you cheer up and you wouldn’t. You just used me, you used mine and Howard’s presence because it allowed you to relinquish responsibility and just wallow like you always do. I tried to let you know I was still here for you, Gaz, I invited you out here, I told you to call whenever. But you never call now, you haven’t for months. Only when something needs to be sorted out. Story of my fucking life these days that though isn’t it! Call Jay, he’ll know what to fucking do. But don’t just talk to him and try and catch up, no, no point in that. Just take his advice or his help or his favours and run. Well I’m sick of it, Gaz. I get enough of it from my husband without you joining in. So do me a favour, please, and don’t call me for a while. Thanks for sorting the parcel. I’ll transfer the money for it to your account as soon as I’m done waiting on my fucking husband hand and foot,” and with that Jason slammed the phone down on Gary.
It was the last time the two of them spoke until boxing day finally rolled around, save for a few, brief, down-to-business emails. Jason had never offered an explanation for his outburst and Gary had never apologised for his part in it either. Gary replayed the conversation in his mind plenty of times before Jason called him again, each time trying to figure out how exactly he’d managed to put his foot in it. It had taken him too long to work out that, despite Jason’s best efforts, he clearly wasn’t happy with how things had turned out. But even armed with that information there was still nothing Gary could do about it and that scared him. It was that fear that stopped him calling Jason back. He regretted that. Especially since, as usual, it was left to Jason to make the first moves to making things right, instigating an unspoken truce with his boxing day phone call. Gary had promised himself he would try and make things right as soon as his chance came though. He refused to let Jason down again.
“Jason speaking,” Jason’s voice was so much brighter than he had heard it be for months that it took Gary a moment to recover himself. He was sure he detected a smile in that voice, and being unable to recall the last time he’d heard such a thing in Jason’s voice he rather wished he’d keep talking.
“Hi Jay, it’s er...well, me,” he stammered at last. Jason barely heard him as he tried to wriggle free of Howard’s arms which were creeping around his waist and pulling him across the bed. Howard grinned mischievously up at Jason who was attempting to hold the phone away from him.
“Hi, Gaz,” Jason managed, only a little breathlessly, pushing his hand in Howard’s face and stretching away from his grip at the same time, stopping Howard’s attempts to kiss his neck.
“Fuck off please, Gaz!” Howard’s muffled voice reached Gary down the line.
“Oh God, is Howard there?!” Gary exclaimed, suddenly embarrassed. Jason simply laughed at him and Gary heard the rustling sound as Jason pushed himself free of Howard’s grip.
“Yes, he is. But don’t let that stop you, I can handle him,” Jason smirked, kicking Howard’s leg playfully then rolling himself on top of his husband, successfully pinning him down and placing a hand over his mouth for good measure. Gary raised his eyebrows, surprised but glad to hear the crackle of laughter that edged Jason’s voice. Howard silently revelled in it all.
God I fucking missed him being like this. How did I not notice that this Jay – the Jay I fell in love with, my Jay – had all but disappeared?
“Can you now? I feel I should warn you though, Jay, you are on speaker phone here,” Gary grinned.
“Am I? Well, as long as it’s not my mum and dad you’re there with, I think I can live with that,” Jason replied. His face was close to Howard’s now, mischief in his eyes as he pressed his hand more firmly across Howard’s mouth and kissed his nose. Howard looked up at him plaintively, longing to kiss the laughter lines which crossed Jason’s face.
“Actually it’s not either of them...it’s...well...it’s Mark...” Gary said slowly.
“Hi, Jay,” Mark’s nervous voice cut in. Jason’s eyebrows raised and for a moment Howard was distracted, intrigued as to what development he was missing out on.
“Mark Owen, what on earth have you been doing with yourself for the past year and why, exactly, didn’t you manage to so much as ring me?!” Jason demanded, recovering himself with surprising speed. His voice was as playful as it was stern and Mark smiled a little shyly, briefly burying his face in Gary’s shoulder. Gary glanced over at him and smiled encouragingly.
“From what Gaz says, you know exactly what I’ve been doing,” Mark retorted after a beat.
“You shouldn’t believe everything Gaz says, that man has a tongue of pure silver,” Jason smiled. At that moment Howard managed to move his head just enough to free his mouth, diverting Jason’s attention. He grinned briefly.
I think Jay’s enjoying this game...
“Fuck off please, Mark!” Howard called out shamelessly, suddenly gaining the upper hand on Jason and managing to grab his arms and roll the two of them around so Jason was the one pinned down. Jason was laughing softly and he closed his eyes a moment, though he didn’t drop the phone even as Howard began planting kisses along the line of his neck. Howard couldn’t stop his eyes from sparkling, unable to hide the delight that bubbled up inside him at the restoration of life to this man he adored so completely. He looked him up and down. Head back, laughing, eyes closed. Flawed? Immensely so. Beautiful? Immensely so. Howard’s lips quirked into a smile against Jason’s skin.
“Would now be a good time to mention your mum just walked into the room?” Gary teased, knowing the two of them well enough to guess what was going on. Jason whimpered slightly, making a half-hearted attempt at pushing Howard off him.
“Don’t even joke,” he replied and Gary chuckled.
“I don’t think she’s under any illusions you know, Jay,” he pointed out with gentle amusement.
“Oh, she is. Illusions that I want her to stay under. So, are you planning on telling me how Mark Owen returned from the mythical land of Stoke-on-Trent and re-entered your life? Or do I have to use my imagination?” Jason asked, just managing to get his hand over Howard’s mouth once more.
“So you did know where I was!” Mark gasped and Jason smiled.
“I might’ve stumbled on the information, yes. All I wanted was to be sure you were safe, Markie...and, for the record, I don’t think you could’ve been much safer than where you were,” he said gently and Mark smiled. Jason held a faith in Robbie that Mark didn’t understand the roots of, but was grateful for nonetheless. Gary smiled slightly sadly.
“He’s right you know,” he said softly and Mark looked at him in surprise.
“Thank you,” he murmured and Gary shrugged self-consciously and looked away. On the other end of the line Jason squirmed oblivious as Howard began a new attempt on the other side of his neck. It was a struggle but Jason just managed to keep hold of the phone.
Battle of wills, balance of power...why is everything a game of control with us? And why the hell do we both enjoy it so much?!
“You know though, Jay...these kinds of stories, they’re always best told in person,” Gary ploughed on with the conversation forcefully and Jason stilled in Howard’s grip, narrowing his eyes.
“What the hell, Gaz? Really?!” he questioned with evident confusion and Gary laughed.
“Yes! Which is why I called you, actually. I was wondering...it’s a bit short notice but...are you and Howard doing anything New Year’s Eve?” he asked slowly. Jason paused a moment and, immediately sensing the change in his husband’s demeanour, Howard looked up at him.
Something just happened. I know that look in his eyes. That look means he’s plotting something.
“What?” Howard whispered and Jason’s eyes glinted slightly. He took his opportunity and pushed Howard off him before promptly rolling himself to lie on top of him once more.
“You know, Gaz, we do have plans for New Year’s,” he said slowly. Howard still stared up at him, trying to gauge what exactly his husband was up to.
“Oh...of course...busy time of year for Howard and all...” Gary began but Jason shook his head slightly, smiling down at Howard and giving him a quick kiss on the lips.
“Actually...no. Howard doesn’t have a gig New Year’s. We’re doing something else...” Jason said quietly and Howard frowned.
I thought I did have a gig though...hang on...is he...?
“Ok...” Gary sounded puzzled and he exchanged a glance with Mark.
“See, I was thinking of cooking dinner that night...for my husband...and his daughter...” Jason began.
Did he just take control of everything? Since when was Grace coming?! And hang on, he’d better be cooking for himself too!
“Oh,” Gary said quietly, mostly to himself, as he tried to think of a better excuse to invite Howard and Jason back to Manchester for a visit. Howard, for his part, narrowed his eyes at Jason and Jason laughed softly, shaking his head slightly and kissing Howard’s cheek.
“I’ll be cooking for me too, of course,” he added with a roll of his eyes and Howard smiled.
Thank God for that.
“Ok, well...” Gary was about to launch into an alternative but Jason interrupted and cut him off.
“I’m cooking it at our apartment though. Our apartment in Manchester. So if you and Mark wanted to come...” he trailed off, leaving the invitation open. Realisation crossed Howard’s face.
Hang on...does he mean we’re moving home?
“Your apartment?!” Gary asked, eyes wide. Jason hardly heard him, preoccupied by returning the smile his husband was giving him.
“Our apartment,” he managed to reply.
Fucking hell...my Jay is back with a vengeance tonight!
Howard’s smile widened and he leant up enough to capture Jason’s lips, pulling him into a prolonged kiss.
“Seriously?” Mark breathed, wide-eyed, exchanging a glance with Gary.
“So...does this mean you’re moving back? For good?” Gary pushed as the silence stretched on. Jason reluctantly pulled back from the kiss, suddenly intent on getting rid of Gary as quickly as possible.
“You know what Gaz, it’s actually quite late. Nice to know you’re back, Markie, I’ll talk to you both tomorrow and we can arrange everything. Thanks for ringing...” he rushed and Gary frowned.
“No, hang on, wait, Jay...” he tried but Jason had other ideas.
“Some things just don’t change do they,” Mark chuckled in the background, knowing exactly why Jason was suddenly so intent of vanishing. Jason heard neither of his friends however.
“Night!” he called cheerfully over the top of them and promptly he hung up, chucking his phone onto the floor as if it might explode. Then, laughing softly, he fell back against Howard’s chest, burying his face briefly as though he was shy of his own giddiness.
I love this Jay. I love this Jay so much more than the pale, grey Jay I made him think I loved.
Howard took his opportunity and kissed the top of Jason’s head before tipping his chin up and coaxing him into a deeper kiss. Jason smiled against his lips, letting him wrap his arms tightly around him, one hand just sneaking beneath the hoody he was wearing.
“I love it when you do that, you know,” Howard said softly as he pulled back from the kiss. Their foreheads were still touching and Jason’s eyes were so close to his own that all he could see of them was a faint twinkling of light amidst the shadows.
“Do what?” Jason asked with a small laugh, cupping Howard’s cheek in his hand.
“Take control,” Howard replied, taking care over the words, eking them out and making sure each letter was held long enough to produce a sound. For a moment Jason looked at him, some deep thought or other traversing his face. He smiled, faintly, and pressed a brief kiss to Howard’s lips.
“Do you mean that?” he asked softly and Howard smiled at him.
“I think a small part of me has been waiting for you to do it this whole time. I’ve been holding my breath, expecting you to take charge of this whole mess and pack our bags for home...and when you never did...I don’t know. It’s like when your parents leave you home alone for the first time and you go round playing with matches and knives and everything you can think of. It’s not necessarily all that fun but...you want to make the most of the freedom. But then you burn the house down and chop your arm off and you realise you were much happier before,” he shrugged and Jason laughed.
“Are you saying you need parenting?!” he asked and Howard grinned.
“No! Well, maybe. Sometimes. But what I’m saying is...I missed you. I missed the real you I mean. And I missed that little spark of life you get in your eyes when you’re taking the reins,” he explained and Jason paused a moment, studying Howard’s face carefully, a half-smile resting on his lips.
“Howard Paul Donald, is that really all you think that spark is for?” he sighed at last.
How can he think I haven’t noticed? Doesn’t everyone know this by now?
“No,” Howard said in response and Jason tilted his head.
“No?” he pressed and Howard smiled.
“You seriously think it doesn’t drive me fucking crazy with love for you that you actually have a look in your eyes that is genuinely, one hundred per cent, all mine?” he asked. And there was that spark immediately, bursting into life in Jason’s eyes. Jason stroked his thumb along Howard’s cheek.
“Crazy with love?” he clarified and Howard laughed.
“Absolutely fucking nuts,” he agreed and with that he pulled Jason firmly down on top of him, initiating a deep kiss and slowly beginning to pull the hoody from Jason’s back.
Chapter Fifteen
Good morning world is the only fucking thing I can think. Fucking hell; that man has so much to answer for. So much.
Normally, if Howard was honest, he was not a ‘Good morning World’ sort of person and held no desire to be one. He was a ‘What time is it?/Five more minutes/What’s for breakfast?’ sort of person. But this morning was different. This morning was one of those glorious mornings when he didn’t need to take half an hour out of his day to try and remember the night before, because the night before was imprinted on his skull in perfect high definition. This morning was brilliant and dazzling and alive with a promise of a future that was changed completely from what had gone immediately before. It was almost like that first morning again, the one where he had woken up in Jason’s bed for the first time, Jason still sleeping next to him, and he had realised with astounding clarity that he was a lucky bastard. Back then, just as he had last night and many times in between, he had seen Jason Orange at his best, his finest. Happy and relaxed Jason Orange: he had seen to the dazzling centre of him and he felt proud that he had been allowed to. This was one of the mornings in his life when he felt closer to Jason than he had ever been before. Each time such a morning occurred he had never thought it possible to become closer and yet this morning he felt the closeness with an intensity that made every one that had gone before seem like some chance encounter with a near-stranger.
Stretching slightly he opened his eyes, only having to blink a little in battle with the bright winter sunshine the streamed across the bedroom towards him. The fresh fall of snow in the night had settled happily over the city and its whiteness reflected the sunshine in unending zigzags across the Frankfurt sky. Howard stifled a yawn and shifted in the bed, taking in the room. His eyes didn’t take long to be drawn to one point in particular. Because the sunshine could zigzag round Howard’s head all day, hell, it could pick him up and plant him on the surface of the sun itself, but Howard would still pay more attention to the subtle glow of Jason Orange caught in an unguarded moment.
Good morning world. And such a beautiful word you are.
Jason was stood opposite the bed, busying himself with folding and putting away clothes. He was dressed simply, effortless as ever and caught off guard. Casual, was probably the best word for him in his jeans and his close-fitting zip-top (black and knit, accentuating the elegant lines of his figure and the starry blue of his eyes, Howard noticed). The top was unzipped just enough to reveal a small ‘V’ of Jason’s skin which Howard took as an invitation to remember last night and he couldn’t stop the smile as he watched Jason continue unaware of his gaze. In fact, the smile had been on his lips before he had opened his eyes and Jason’s presence only served to encourage it. He smiled and unashamedly let his eyes blur out the rest of the world, it was unimportant when Jason was relaxed like this. Perhaps Jason didn’t look any more beautiful than usual; he certainly wasn’t deliberately dressed up. Or deliberately dressed down. He was not posing or charming or flirting. In fact he wasn’t doing any of the things that usually attracted the attention of others to him. But Howard knew him well enough to realise a moment of pure Jason when he saw it. A rare moment of worry-free, sure-of-himself Jason. But more importantly? A moment of contented Jason. It was a sight that could entertain Howard for hours if he was allowed – the others could keep the posing and the flirting if he could just have this.
“What are you smiling at?” a voice cut in, gentle and teasing. Jason had finished what he was doing and had finally noticed that Howard was awake. Howard blinked slightly, shifting his head on the pillow so he could meet Jason’s eyes more easily. There were phrases already on the tip of his tongue; you’re beautiful, you’re gorgeous, I love you. They were all there waiting for Jason to hear them. All true and all relevant. But Howard didn’t want to say something that came too easily to him. He didn’t want to use an answer he had used too many times before. He wanted to somehow convey to Jason every single thing that was in his head, but he knew from experience that too many words could far too easily confuse what was really one of the most beautifully simplistic things he knew. Jason’s eyes were dancing as Howard searched for his voice. Blue and awake and happy. Howard couldn’t think of anything but what he saw in those eyes.
“Just...you. You being you again,” Howard told him at last. Jason’s lips slowly curved, soft and gentle and understanding. Silently he crossed the room, sitting down on the bed. He cupped Howard’s face with his hand and pressed a single kiss to his lips. It was a wordless understanding; Howard had said something which meant too much to Jason to be picked out of the place where it hung in the air between them.
Instead he’ll just leave it there. Hanging between us. It’s his way of saying thank you.
When Jason sat up again his lips quirked in a secretive smile that Howard echoed. Jason was the first to speak into the placid silence.
“Come on Donald, up and dressed or you won’t get any breakfast,” he said quietly and with that he was up again and crossing the room. Howard felt gripped by an urge to prolong the morning, prolong the feelings he worried belonged only to that waking-up phase of the day. He wanted to keep hold of the novelty of his and Jason’s renewed closeness, he wanted it to feel just as intense as it had in those waking-up minutes instead of letting the day interfere and dilute it.
Life. It always has to push things on. Push things down.
“Jay,” he called after his husband, sitting up in the bed.
“Mm?” Jason turned back instantly, resting one hand on the doorframe and looking at Howard in questioning. Howard smiled slightly mischievously back at him.
“You’re not my whole world you know,” he grinned, enjoying the way Jason smiled back at him so brilliantly. Jason didn’t question Howard’s words because he knew Howard well enough to know where this was going. A small burst of electricity passed between the two of them as a joke was shared silently. Howard’s eyes challenged Jason. And Jason didn’t want to pass up the challenge.
“I know, love. I’m your whole universe,” he winked without missing a beat, and with that he left the room. As the door closed behind him, Howard fell back on the pillows and let out a soft chuckle.
I fucking love my life.
“When you smile like that, they all know,” Monika was sitting on one of the kitchen counters eating toast and watching Jason chop vegetables. He shot her a playfully wary glance, one eyebrow raised in questioning.
“They?” he asked with a half-laugh, shaking his head a little and then turning back to his chopping.
“They: everyone between here and Mars. They know how in love you are and they’re jealous,” she grinned and Jason couldn’t quite swallow his laugh.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he assured her with a grin that gave away everything and more. Monika simply winked at him then jumped down from the counter. She headed for the door just as Howard entered the kitchen and her smile broadened.
“Morning!” she half-sang as she passed him and Howard frowned, pausing to watch her leave before continuing towards his husband. Slowly Howard came up behind Jason, wrapping his arms around his waist. Jason smiled warmly, though he didn’t look at back, choosing instead to continue chopping the vegetables in front of him.
“What’s got into Moni?” Howard questioned, pressing a small kiss to Jason’s neck then resting his chin on his shoulder.
“God knows, I stopped trying to figure the Germans out after week one,” Jason shrugged happily and Howard laughed, standing up straight and releasing his husband.
“Behave yourself, Orange,” he chuckled, shaking his head and giving Jason a good-natured cuff round the head. But Jason simply smiled, pressing on with his cooking.
“Can’t think what you mean, Donald” he shot back with feigned innocence that made Howard chuckle.
“I’m beginning to think I should’ve stopped trying to figure you out after week one too,” he remarked with a grin but Jason looked over his shoulder at him with playful eyes.
“You’re never going to stop trying to figure me out, Howard Donald – it’s your destiny,” he said with a wink. Howard laughed and, for a moment at least, that just-woken-up feeling came back to him. Jason’s happiness got to him like nothing else could; he wasn’t sure how many people were allowed to see this side to Jason but he fairly confident it was irrelevant. After all, he knew he saw it more than anyone else ever would. Yes, the closeness was back. Intensely. Drumming on his ribs and bouncing between himself and Jason, drawing attention to itself. Not that either one of them would address it directly, that would spoil the magic of it all.
“Breakfast?” Howard asked through a smirk and Jason smiled, turning back to what he was doing.
“Microwave. You might want to give it a quick reheat though,” he warned.
Crossing the kitchen to the microwave, Howard glanced back and looked, with intrigue, at what Jason was up to.
“What are you making?” he asked, setting the microwave then leaning back against the counter to watch, though Jason didn’t turn to face him.
“Soup. It’s for lunch and there’s going to be too much for just me so you’d better be as hungry as you usually are,” Jason shrugged.
“For lunch? So what did you have for breakfast then?” Howard couldn’t hide the prickle of anxiousness that touched his voice and it had Jason’s attention instantly.
“I had yoghurt, mother!” he teased gently, letting out a soft chuckle and shaking his head. He wasn’t sharp with the tease but Howard still felt a little foolish for how easily he’d allowed doubt to slip back in. Jason glanced at him kindly.
“Sorry,” Howard mumbled, looking down and Jason sighed, crossing the room to where Howard was standing. Jason’s touch was light as he rested a hand on Howard’s arm.
“It’s ok, I get it,” he said quietly, sincerely. Howard nodded slightly, feeling self-conscious despite Jason’s tenderness. Jason nodded too then squeezed Howard’s arm briefly before moving to get something from a high cupboard, stretching up momentarily and letting Howard support a little of his weight. Before he moved back across the kitchen he squeezed Howard’s arm once more and Howard smiled thoughtfully, watching Jason turn away and continue with his cooking.
Howard played with Jason’s words in his head. ‘I get it’ – that stayed with him. Jason had touched him just as he had touched Jason earlier. Renewed closeness brought so many of these small moments, Howard thought. Before he left the kitchen he passed Jason, one hand resting lightly on the small of his back as he pressed a single kiss to his cheek then wordlessly moved on. Jason didn’t look up or speak.
I understood and he understood. Words are overrated really.
When Jason finally emerged from the kitchen, he found Howard settled on the sofa, watching the TV with his face scrunched up in concentration as he tried to follow the news in German. Jason smothered a smirk and moved across to the sofa to join him. As he came closer Howard finally noticed him, looking up at him with a bright-eyed smile. His sleeves were now rolled up and his hair a little dishevelled and he carried a plate with one hand, a mug of tea with the other. Howard’s eyes quickly came to rest on the plate.
“Ah, come closer, oh Husband Bearing Biscuits,” Howard grinned, opening his arms wide. Jason couldn’t help but laugh, rolling his eyes slightly as he accepted the invitation of Howard’s arms, lowering himself down next to him on the sofa.
“Sometimes I think you only married me for the food,” he sighed as Howard took a biscuit from the plate then wrapped his arms around Jason and pulled him close.
“No...I married you coz you were the only bloke I’d ever met who was actually more important to me than music. The food was really just a secondary thing,” Howard assured him playfully, giving Jason a peck on the cheek then grabbing another biscuit from the plate. Jason watched him a moment, a smile just beginning to touch his face. His blue eyes were glittery and thoughtful as he gazed at Howard’s profile. That playful tone was deceptive, in his opinion. Because Howard didn’t simply tell people they were more important to him than music. Jason was surrounded by people for whom music was not just a support system in times of need, it was a life-force within them, and his husband was no exception. To be above music was to be loved truly and completely and no amount of playfulness could ever take away the beauty of that sentiment in Jason’s mind.
“It’s no use. I can’t bring myself to banter against you on that one,” Jason said softly at last. Howard’s lips quirked in a satisfied smile.
He has never once tried to play tennis with my heart. My head? Always. But never my heart.
“You’re going soft, love” Howard replied quietly but his tone was far from teasing.
“I know,” Jason murmured simply and he pushed himself up enough to press a kiss to Howard’s lips. As he pulled back from the kiss Howard winked at him and Jason smiled letting Howard squeeze his shoulders. Howard kissed him affectionately on the temple before he leant back and for a moment they sat in silence, watching a weather report with blank expressions.
“Where did Monika disappear to?” Howard asked suddenly and Jason shrugged idly, his head dropping to Howard’s shoulder, his eyes still on the TV, though he couldn’t understand a word of it.
“She came in the kitchen about ten minutes ago, said she was going out,” he sighed.
“Out? She say why?” Howard questioned, craning his neck back slightly so he could look down at Jason, who was now burrowed in the crook of his arm.
“Um...she said something about us needing more milk. And about unnecessary public displays of affection under her roof. And there were mutterings of me being an awful bastard. And then...she left,” Jason told him casually, leaning up briefly to take a sip of his tea. Howard raised his eyebrows.
“An awful bastard?” he smirked and Jason looked up at him with a bright smile.
“She said it in German first, but she was kind enough to translate it for me after. I appreciated the extra effort,” he explained and Howard chuckled.
“Right...any reason?” he asked and Jason pursed his lips in an attempt to hold back his smile.
“I think it may have had something to do with Maria calling in sick again and me quitting my job,” he admitted slowly.
“Ah, and did you manage to charm her out of hating you before she left?” Howard smirked.
“Well, I did what I could,” Jason said, looking back at the TV. Howard nodded sceptically.
“She hugged you goodbye and told you she was happy for you didn’t she,” he pressed. Jason’s mouth twisted slightly in amusement. Howard looked down at him with a smirk and eventually Jason gave a reluctant shrug, risking another glance back up at Howard.
“She might’ve done. She might’ve thrown a vase at my head and slammed the door. I’ll never tell! But what I will say is; she said the awful bastard thing with a smile on her face, so I suspect she might never have hated me to begin with,” he sighed and Howard laughed, shaking his head slightly.
He always assures me his ability to spread smiles is such a burden to bear. Maybe it is for him, but I figure it’s worth it. I reckon he can’t even begin to imagine the good it does. I think if people like him didn’t exist in the world then we’d all lose hope in humanity. But then, I am obscenely biased.
“No one ever does hate you, love,” Howard murmured, kissing the top of Jason’s head and squeezing his shoulders once more.
“Anyway, what’s all this to you?” Jason demanded with a playful glower.
“Nothing...I’m just keeping an eye on the competition is all,” Howard replied. Jason looked up at him properly again, his expression softening a little and his eyes sparkling straight at Howard’s.
“Competition? Howard Donald, you should know by now, when it comes to me you have no competition,” he smiled. Howard could only smile back, disarmed and grateful all at once. He bent down enough to capture Jason’s lips with a kiss.
He just gets to me. I mean...there is competition. In the eyes of the rest of the world there is: women, men, beautiful people. And they’re all drawn to him. Because there’s something about him. He’s a beautiful person, he’s certainly more beautiful than any of them. And when he’s happy like this...God, he just lights up whole continents. But I know now – it took me a long time to believe it and sometimes it startles me, but I do know it’s true –in his opinion there really isn’t any competition for me. For whatever reason that man, that little bit of sky that got chipped off, carved up and turned into him....he loves me in a way that blots out the rest. My turn to not want to banter something away.
“So you quit your job then?” Howard asked after a long pause. Jason nodded slowly, smiling knowingly at Howard before agreeing to change the subject.
“Yes. Well, actually, I’m not sure. I think me and Monika technically agreed that she could get to fire me. But yeah...I don’t work there as of today,” he agreed. Howard tilted his head to one side.
“So we’re really going for it then?” he pressed and Jason smiled up at him confidently.
“I’m done pretending I don’t know my own mind when deep down I do,” he said simply. Howard smiled, kissing Jason’s forehead lovingly.
“Thank God for that,” he replied, coaxing a soft laugh from Jason.
“Well then, on that note, I feel I should tell you: I’ve been talking to the women in your life, love,” Jason proceeded, the mischief coming back to his eyes as he looked up at Howard.
“Ah, the words every husband wants to hear,” Howard chuckled but he got Jason’s elbow to his ribs for his troubles.
“Had it occurred to you that I talk to them because they actually take me seriously? Unlike you!” Jason half-laughed and Howard pulled a face before trying to reach for a biscuit from the coffee table. Jason rolled his eyes and swatted his hand back.
“Sorry?” Howard offered and Jason smirked at him.
“Concentrate, please? Because I happen to think this is important; Vicky is happy for Grace to come and spend New Year’s with us. She said she understood, with her getting holidays and weekends she’s actually seen far more of Grace this past year than you have and she’d far rather it was all equalled out again. She also mentioned that Grace would probably be thrilled,” Jason continued and Howard looked at him thoughtfully.
“Did you know how much I missed her?” he asked quietly and Jason smiled kindly back.
“I had my suspicions,” he said and Howard smiled distantly.
“Even with all the crap I was putting you through, you still worried about that stuff?” he looked Jason in the eye but Jason shrugged and looked away.
“Since I met you I have never not cared about you. And never not caring about you means never not caring about her,” he told Howard softly.
He amazes me. About a hundred and fifty times a day he manages to amaze me.
“Thank you,” Howard murmured.
“You know as well as I do – when you love someone you know the very worst person they could ever be but still care. We both did our worst for a little while but we always still cared. I promise you Howard, I’m grateful too you know,” Jason assured him, looking back up again.
“But your worst is still so beautiful, Jay, it doesn’t count,” Howard insisted.
“You’re only saying that coz you love me. If you didn’t love me you’d know I am a mess...well, I can be a mess,” Jason countered with a small smile which Howard returned.
You and me both, but all the same. Your ugly, your wrong, your worst person you can be? Your ‘mess’ just looks like some kind of comet to me.
They held the stare a moment before Howard broke it to press another kiss to Jason’s forehead.
“Come on, you were telling me about all the magic you were working whilst I was still in bed,” he prompted gently.
“Well my next call was to your mum,” he said slowly and Howard grinned.
“Ah, now there’s someone who really does love you,” he remarked and Jason chuckled.
“Concentrate, Donald, this bit’s important! She’s making all the arrangements needed for Grace to come back to live with us when term starts again and she says she’ll set to work packing up a few boxes of Grace’s things from her house as soon as she can,” he explained. Howard’s smile broadened and he squeezed Jason tightly.
Make that one hundred and fifty one times a day then.
“I love you,” he stated quietly, kissing Jason’s cheek.
“Good. Coz I’ve already booked our flights home too. You have...approximately twenty-four hours to pack, and no say in it at all,” Jason informed him with a grin.
Chapter Sixteen
Cadbury had always been the kind of dog who was quick to fall into a routine. After nearly knocking Mark Owen out of a window upon his return the day before last, Cadbury had proceeded to follow him everywhere. He was only marginally less clingy than Gary, which in Cadbury’s opinion was a noble sacrifice on his part – he was smart, he’d noticed what Mark’s absence had done to Gary. However, to account for this sacrifice, Cadbury had taken to sleeping at the foot of the bed. And in the morning, when he woke before either of his owners, he would sit and wait patiently, watching Mark with big, brown eyes. And on this second morning, Mark spotted him before he looked over at Gary. This, Cadbury concluded, was progress.
“Morning boy,” Mark mumbled into his pillow, stretching himself out slightly and sitting up in the bed. Cadbury quickly padded over to him, putting his head in Mark’s lap. Whilst he loved walks with Gary and would want no other man as his TV-watching partner, he knew that there could be no one in the world who showered affection as well as Mark Owen did. Mark yawned slightly as he scratched behind the dog’s ears, glancing over his shoulder briefly. It was only his second morning back by Gary’s side and he was not yet sure enough of anything to be confident each morning that the night before had not been some painfully realistic dream. Smiling softly, eyes glimmering with unspoken relief, Mark bent back and pressed a kiss to Gary’s cheek.
“Just not on the piano, ok?” Gary grumbled in his sleep, wiping the kiss off his cheek and rolling over. Mark bit back a laugh, glancing at Cadbury and rolling his eyes.
What is he like?!
“Come on Cadbury, let’s leave him be,” Mark whispered to the dog, pushing himself up off the bed and tiptoeing from the room, Cadbury following him obediently.
As they came into the lounge Mark went straight over to the TV, switching it on and smiling knowingly as Cadbury settled down in front of the morning news.
All hell could break loose, the world could spin backwards and Manchester be declared a separate state but there will still be some things that will never change.
With a contented chuckle he shook his head, grabbing his dressing gown from the back of the sofa then turning and heading for the kitchen. Leaving the kettle to boil, Mark went over to where he had discarded his phone the day before and scrolled through his contacts until he found who he was looking for. He took a deep breath before he pressed call, glancing back towards the lounge as though to make sure Cadbury wasn’t listening in. But no, the dog was gripped by the headlines and Mark nodded to himself, connecting the call before turning back to his tea.
It’ll be too early anyway, I’ll just leave a message and we can talk another time.
It only took two rings for a familiar voice to cut into Mark’s thoughts.
“Jay here,” Jason’s voice was bright, if a little hassled, and Mark didn’t manage to hide his surprise.
“Wow, you’re up...” he blinked, eyebrows raised.
“Why is everyone always so surprised that I’m awake when they phone me?!” Jason implored, seemingly uninterested in who it was phoning him.
“If you don’t like it darlin’, then stop picking up the phone,” Howard’s voice cut in from somewhere in the background, making Mark laugh softly.
“Er, you don’t get to call me darlin’ until all those chargers on the bed are untangled and packed,” Jason countered swiftly but Mark heard the distinctive sound of a kiss as Jason’s lips briefly pressed against his husband’s cheek. Howard grinned, winking at Jason then brushing past him and going over to the bed to deal with the wires Jason was pointing at.
I’d almost forgotten what these two are like when they get going. The back-and-forth, the froth. What is that anyway? Mischief? Romance? No, I know – Crackle!
“I missed a lot of things, but your complete inability to be totally in love without being all over each other was not one of them,” Mark sighed teasingly and Jason narrowed his eyes slightly.
“Mark Owen you watch your mouth or you will lose that tongue of yours,” he shot back.
“As long as I don’t lose it the same way Howard lost his,” Mark laughed brightly, stirring sugar into his tea as he sat down at the kitchen table, the phone trapped between his shoulder and his ear.
“I’d appreciate it if my husband’s tongue was left out of this thank you,” Jason said, trying to hide the laughter in his voice. As he spoke Howard looked up at him, raising his eyebrows with hopeful intrigue and Jason’s resistance to smiling was tested. Silently he pulled a face at his husband who laughed in response.
“You’re a total mush, Jason Orange, you were before and you always will be,” Mark said with confidence, taking a sip of his tea and leaning back in his chair. Jason paused a moment, sharing a look with Howard then turning away before he was forced to admit Mark was right.
“Is there a point to this phone call, Markie? Or is your sole aim to judge me?” Jason asked, crossing his free arm across his chest with a sigh. Mark swallowed slightly, looking into his tea.
I could back out of this now.
“You excited about coming back?” he tried. Jason detected the slight wavering note in his voice, his senses officially alerted.
“Excited? Try asking me when I’m not in the middle of getting my pathologically disorganised husband to pack. Now, Mark, how about you tell me why you really called this morning instead of waiting ‘til this afternoon like a normal person,” Jason pressed. Mark’s lips twitched up slightly.
Same old Jason.
“Do you ever just leave things be?” he sighed and Jason looked back over at Howard with a self-conscious smile. His blue eyes glimmered briefly with regret.
“I tried leaving things be, Markie. And it didn’t work out for me,” he said softly. Howard was looking up at him again then, his eyes bright with relief. Jason gave him a small, knowing wink. Howard smiled back at him and pushed himself up off the bed, gathering the chargers in his arms and moving to leave the room, pressing a kiss to Jason’s temple as he headed for the door.
“Love you,” he whispered, returning Jason's wink then leaving the room. Jason smiled to himself but on the other end of the line Mark was still gnawing nervously on his lip.
“If I ask you something...will you not tell Gaz? It’s nothing bad, Jay. I swear to you...I just...I don’t want him to get the wrong idea about how I feel and I think if he heard me asking this...I think it would give him the wrong idea,” Mark said awkwardly. Jason let out a long sigh, rubbing his forehead. He wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that, but he trusted Mark all the same.
“Alright Markie, I’ll bite; what do you want to know?” he asked with a little reluctance.
Here goes then. Please, Jay, don’t get me wrong here...
“Who told you where I was when I was in Stoke?” Mark asked at last, his voice meek. On the other end of the line Jason smiled a knowing smile, sitting down on the corner of the bed.
“Markie, you know as well as I do; there’s only one person who could’ve told me that,” Jason said gently.
“Rob?” Mark guessed timidly, a distant smile touching the corners of his lips.
“Rob,” Jason confirmed. Mark’s smile widened briefly, though it didn’t last, his forehead creasing.
“But...but why?” he frowned. Jason laughed a small, caring laugh and sat back slightly.
“Why do you think, Markie? He cares about you. He knew that, for whatever reason, you didn’t want Gary to know where you were. But he also knew Gary would be worried about you, that your friends and family would be worried about you. I think he just figured someone ought to know where you were. Just in case anything happened, either to you or to someone back in Manchester. Just in case Gary went off the rails and needed you or something. He wanted to protect you, Markie. And I think...I think maybe he was worried that if he didn’t phone someone then he wouldn’t be doing right by you, and that was something he never wanted to be guilty of again,” Jason explained.
“But...why you? There’s so many numbers he could’ve grabbed off my phone, why’d he pick yours?” he pressed and Jason shrugged.
“Honestly? You’d have to ask him that, Markie. I mean...I think he thought I was in the best position, to be there to tell Gary if he needed to know. And I think he was scared too...he wanted reassurance, you know? He didn’t know if taking you to Stoke was good for you or if he was just being selfish,” he said. Mark tilted his head slightly.
“So you told him it was the right thing?” he asked with slight surprise.
“Course I did. I didn’t have to be around him for more than ten seconds to know he cares a hell of a lot about you, Markie. Someone who cares about you that much isn’t going to do anything but help you to sort out your life. And to help you sort your head out enough to be able to go back to talk things out with Gary. And that’s exactly what he did, right?” Jason smiled.
“Right,” Mark smiled too at that, thinking of all the subtle hints Robbie had made to him over those three months. Considering they had never mentioned Gary’s name, Robbie had certainly made sure Mark’s mind was allowed to wander back to Gary often.
He was always there with gentle reminders of where home really was. I get it now – all those questions about what Manchester was like these days. He was steering me that whole time.
“I was surprised he called me, that much I’ll admit. But the fact he had the presence of mind to call me? It was all I needed to know to know you should stay with him,” Jason told him honestly.
“I think he really admires you, Jay. He’d ask about you, now and then, you know? You and Howard. I don’t know what you did when he came to the shop that time but...it made an impression. He doesn’t have many friends, you know. Coz of all the moving around he’s done...no one’s really had the chance to stick except me. And I’m pretty much all he’s got left. But I think he...I think he wants friends, he wants to be in a team, like at the shop, you know? And if he could pick I think he’d pick you. Howard and me too but...you were kind to him I think. And so few people are ever really, truly kind to him that when someone is...he never forgets it. You’re always so kind though, Jay...you’ve always been so kind,” Mark replied.
I’ve always just accepted that about him...I just accepted it and never appreciated how rare that is for anyone to be that way.
“Yeah, well, I’ll be honest with you, Markie, I’m not sure where on Earth you would be right now if he hadn’t found you. The night he called...with the way everything had gone with Howard and me and with Gaz at the shop and the way I was feeling at that time...I just figured you’d decided to get lost forever. And then there he was, saying he’d found you by the Thames that night, saying he thought he could help. The thought that something might, just maybe, get put right? It was one less thing for me to worry about,” Jason’s voice was edged with remembered concern that touched Mark and he felt a rush of gratitude towards Jason.
“You’re such a good friend to me, Jay. I don’t know how you do it. You’re always looking out for everyone and yet you still find time to hold you and Howard together. And the whole time I...I just presume you’re alright, everyone does. I never even ask you if you’re ok, not seriously. I just...presume...” he said thoughtfully but Jason shrugged him off.
“Well, you can ask me later, ok? But right now I’ve got to go. I’ll see you this afternoon though, yeah?” he countered, the note in his voice indicating that he was poised to hang up.
He has never been one to take a compliment.
“Jay, wait,” Mark interrupted softly. If he had learnt anything it was that apologies were important.
“Yeah?” Jason asked with a slight note of disinterest that made Mark smile.
“I’m sorry I never called you last year,” he said simply and, without giving Jason time to brush it away, he promptly hung up.
For a moment Jason sat, looking down at his phone in his hand, a slightly startled smile on his face. The truth was he spent a lot of his life trying to please people. Independent as he was, the urge to make things right was strong within him – he had analysed it for himself, something he did often, and he suspected it stemmed from the failure of his parents’ marriage. For a period of his life there had been nothing he wanted to fix more and, since then, helping fix every other mess that occurred seemed like the second-best thing to do. At some point it had become normality to him. What was less commonplace, however, was a ‘thank you’ for his troubles.
Rarer still? An apology for presuming I’ll just tidy up the mess. It hurt me when he never called...
Jason was shaken from his thoughts by the sound of his phone ringing once more. This time it was Justin and he groaned slightly – this could only mean more family members wanted to descend upon him and Howard that afternoon.
When all I want is to curl up on the sofa with Howard and watch TV. TV where everyone speaks English.
By the time Jason managed to hang up on his brother and emerge from the bedroom, Howard had been well and truly distracted from the task at hand. As Jason padded into the lounge he rolled his eyes at the sight. Monika was sitting quietly on the sofa, the TV was on but she had her headphones in and seemed to be scrutinising the health of one of the potted plants (she was convinced all the plants would die the minute Jason left her alone with them), whilst Howard sat on the other end of the sofa, computer in his lap, staring intently at the screen. Jason sighed and shook his head fondly, coming to stand behind the sofa. He bent over, wrapping his arms slowly around Howard so they crossed over the top of Howard’s chest then planting a quick kiss to his cheek. Howard smiled, slowly taking his eyes off the computer screen to look up at Jason. He stretched up slightly and answered Jason’s kiss with one of his own on Jason’s lips. Jason smiled at him, squeezing his arms a little tighter around him.
“So...I just got off the phone with my brother...” he began tentatively. Howard’s expression wavered slightly and Jason’s eyes were sympathetic.
“Is he still coming to the airport?” Howard enquired stiffly.
“You know that’s nonnegotiable, How. He’s bringing my mum...and she will kill you if you keep me away from her for any longer than you already have,” Jason told him gently, his eyes gently playful but his tone far from mocking.
I don’t like doing this to him. Ever since Emily, him and my family have been a balancing act. And he is the only one making any effort to let me balance him.
“I don’t want to get on the wrong side of your mother. That’s almost as bad as getting on the wrong side of you,” Howard remarked with a half-hearted smile. Jason smiled too, soft and quiet.
“It’s not all bad. He’s agreed to take your car so you get the honour of driving me home,” he pointed out. Howard didn’t miss the emphasis on home and he was powerless against the smile that it brought. He was beginning to realise that, for a long time now, he had been using the pain of missing Jason to dull the pain of missing home. And it was a reasonable strategy really; the pain of missing Jason tended to eclipse a lot of things.
“So I get to drive you home...but with your brother and your mother on the backseat,” Howard grumbled slightly.
“Well it’s not like you can kiss me whilst you’re driving anyway,” Jason smirked and Howard was only slightly annoyed that that won Jason the chuckle he’d been aiming for.
“I could’ve tried though,” he grinned up at Jason, who laughed fondly.
“Mm, I’m sure you would’ve loved to try, but no such luck,” he replied. He squeezed Howard again, resting their heads together. Howard glanced down awkwardly at his hands.
“Are you um...are you going to tell them...when they ask why we decided to come back so suddenly? I mean, are you going to explain what happened? What I did and...and what I said to you...” he trailed off, chewing his lip and avoiding looking at Jason.
He knows they’d only listen to one side of that story.
“I’ll tell ‘em it’s coz I wanted to come home. And I’ll tell ‘em it’s coz you let me come home,” Jason said quietly. Howard smiled a very small smile and silently pressed a kiss to Jason’s forearm.
“I don’t want them to know I hurt you,” he all but whispered, his breath brushing the damp skin where his kiss had just been. Jason pressed a kiss of his own to Howard’s temple.
“I’d be more worried if you couldn’t hurt me,” he murmured and Howard’s brow creased slightly.
“Why?” he asked, looking slowly up into Jason’s eyes.
“Not everyone is allowed that close to me, How. But I like it that I let you be,” he shrugged and Howard smiled a smile that Jason was happy to return.
“I like it that you let me be too,” Howard told him and Jason laughed.
“Yeah you do,” he agreed, planting a kiss on Howard’s lips.
Kisses are the only punctuation sometimes.
“So come on, break the bad news; who else is going to come over this afternoon?” Howard sighed, pulling back from the kiss and looking up into Jason’s eyes nervously.
“My dad,” Jason said, wincing slightly. Howard smiled a lopsided smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Well that’s not so bad,” he replied unconvincingly.
My dad is the worst, actually. After Justin, my dad gave him the hardest time.
“None of it will matter if you’re not packed though,” Jason pointed out and Howard laughed.
“Do you have that little faith in me? Packing is done!” he protested but Jason raised an eyebrow.
“I’ve been in the bedroom...with the cases...this entire time...” he remarked sceptically.
“I know, so I just shoved everything that was left in my hand-luggage,” Howard grinned back. Jason looked at him steadily for a moment then crumpled into a laugh.
“I’m really not sure they’re going to let me take you through security,” he chuckled.
“I don’t remember seeing my name on the banned items list,” Howard countered, his voice laced with laughter and teasing. Jason simply rolled his eyes.
“No, but maybe they should consider it. Or maybe not – for my sake anyway, since I need you as my human tranquilizer,” Jason sighed, pulling a face.
“Still not comfortable with the concept of planes, love?” Howard smiled sympathetically. He knew the answer he would receive off by heart but it was a routine they were both happy to perform.
“They’re improbable, unlikely and unnatural,” Jason listed, true to form, and Howard smiled kindly, kissing his forearm once more then looking up into Jason’s eyes.
“Then I guess I’ll just have to sort my packing so they let me on board to protect you,” he said softly, making Jason smile.
“Love you,” he stated.
“You too,” Howard replied with ease. Jason smiled quietly, giving Howard one more quick kiss on his cheek before standing up straight. His hand lingered on Howard’s shoulder a moment longer than was strictly necessary before he turned and left the room and Howard leant his head back on the sofa as he watched Jason leave; a thin cardigan was hanging loosely off his frame, his hands in his pockets. To the untrained eye he looked calm. Howard knew better. He forced himself up off the sofa and back to work, aware that Jason needed everything to be just-so before he could even begin to be calm again. Howard grabbed up his bag and followed Jason down the corridor.
It took them no more than half an hour to descend into a rush of to-and-fro, passing each other in the corridor and meeting occasionally for exchanges of belongings; trade-offs where last minute items of Howard’s were given over in exchange for important items of travel-documentation which Howard had neglected to give Jason earlier. Monika watched them both from the sofa, taking her headphones out in order to properly appreciate the spectacle; in their entire time with her she had not seen either of them move so fast. What she was less surprised by, however, was how in-sync they were. Always meeting at just the right moment, crossing paths at the perfect point, finding they had just the right amount of time before moving into a different room to call out some important information to each other. It wasn’t a talent of theirs she had seen often, if at all, since they’d arrived. But she had always suspected it was there, waiting to be used. Before she had time to dwell on it, however, Jason all but threw a sheet of important information at her, calling something about needing a German to book a taxi.
“Do they not have taxis in your country?!” she yelled after him with teasing sarcasm as he made his way out of the room. He waved a hand at her dismissively before dodging past Howard who paused a moment to grin at Monika.
“He bossing you around?” he asked and Monika shook her head slightly.
“Not as much as he’s bossing you around!” she shot back happily before getting up and going off in search of the phone. Howard chuckled to himself.
She’s right. And I fucking love it.
By the time Jason and Howard’s paths crossed once more, Monika had resettled herself on the sofa whilst both men continued to busy themselves around her, their paces slowing gradually until eventually they were stood right in front of her, facing each other.
“Passports?” Howard asked Jason hopefully and Jason smirked, reaching into the pocket of his jeans and producing two passports (one battered to the maximum extent allowed before a new one was required, the other as crisp as the day it had arrived.) Howard grinned.
“My laptop?” Jason asked him then.
“Back in its bag...and I put the wire back too,” Howard nodded.
“And your stuff?” Jason questioned.
“Packed. Yours?” Howard shot back quickly, his eyes playful.
“Packed, of course,” Jason beamed back at him.
“What a team!” Howard laughed softly, offering out a hand. Jason nodded happily, giving Howard the high-five he was waiting for. Howard’s smile widened and he caught hold of Jason’s hand before he pulled it back, dragging Jason closer to him and pressing a kiss to his forehead. As he pulled back he looked into Jason’s eyes, which were shining up at him with something he couldn’t quite place.
Gratitude? Because he knows I’m trying to make him calm, keep him safe. I’m always trying to keep him safe, I just screw it up sometimes. And he just looks so breakable, doesn’t he? Maybe not to the rest of the world. But he always has to me...he lets me see him be breakable though. Just me.
“Er, excuse me boys, but I seem to remember I was the one who booked the taxi for you!” Monika interrupted the moment. Both men looked over at her then. A mischievous look danced in Jason’s eyes and he exchanged a glance with Howard before both men flopped down onto the sofa either side of Monika. Each flung an arm across the back of the sofa, looking at her intently. Monika looked between them in confusion.
“Monika...” Howard began.
“Dearest, sweetest Monika,” Jason corrected, just keeping the smirk off his lips. Howard suppressed his own smile and nodded in agreement.
“Dearest, sweetest Monika,” he echoed.
“We are, of course, so sorry for the cruel error we just made,” Jason continued.
“Cruel, heartless error,” Howard interjected.
“Cruel, heartless error,” Jason nodded, eyes glitteringly blue.
“It is, of course, true that no team would be complete without you,” Howard pressed on.
“However,” Jason put in.
“However,” Howard repeated. Monika frowned, looking between them once more.
“However?!” she asked, amused but in want of a serious answer.
“However...there’s a piece of paper with some lovely signatures on that proves me and Jason are a team...” Howard shrugged, smiling playfully.
“And we got these nice, fancy rings as part of the deal...not that my husband is wearing his right now. But trust me, they exist,” Jason nodded, rolling his eyes affectionately as Howard looked down at his ring-finger in surprise before waving his own ring finger elegantly at Monika.
“I despair of you. The pair of you,” she sighed.
“You love us. The pair of us,” Jason told her resolutely, giving her shoulders a squeeze.
“Jay...” Howard put in, still frowning at his ring-finger. Jason leant back from hugging Monika and smiled at Howard fondly, reaching back into his pocket and this time producing Howard’s ring.
“You left it in the kitchen when you did the dishes last night, I was wondering how long it’d take you to notice” he chuckled, handing it over. Howard smiled sheepishly, putting it back on.
“Look on the bright side, at least you didn’t let it go down the drain,” Monika assured him.
“Wise words,” Jason added, winking at Howard who smiled back.
Wise words. I agree.
“Ok, well, I’m going to get the bags off the bed and take them downstairs. I’ll buzz the flat when the taxi comes, yeah?” Howard offered with a sigh.
“Sounds like a plan,” Jason agreed softly. Howard pushed himself up and walked around the back of the sofa, pausing to plant a kiss on the top of Jason’s head before he made off towards the bedroom. Monika chewed on her lip thoughtfully and she and Jason sat in contemplative silence as Howard hauled bags up and down, eventually disappearing from the flat entirely.
“So I guess you’re really off then,” Monika sighed at last. Jason smiled with a strange mix of delight and sadness, avoiding Monika’s eyes.
“You said it yourself, home is home,” he nodded slowly.
“Damn me and my big mouth, now I need to find new flatmates...who will do as much housework for me as you’ve done!” she laughed. Jason looked up then, his eyes met hers and he smiled.
“You should’ve just said it in German, I wouldn’t have had a clue,” he said with a grin that Monika returned with a quick roll of her eyes.
“No...actually, you know what I think? I think it wouldn’t have made a scrap of difference. You and Howard were always homeward bound – you were just the only two people who didn’t know it,” she told him gently. Jason sighed thoughtfully, regarding Monika for a drawn out moment.
“Actually...I meant to say before but...I wanted to thank you...I mean really thank you,” he said softly. Monika raised an eyebrow.
“Me? Why?!” she asked. Jason looked up at her with his startling eyes.
“For...well, for saving my marriage...” he murmured and Monika pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes at him a little then shaking her head.
“Jay, don’t be daft. You and Howard are meant for each other, any idiot knows that. You two would’ve sorted it out eventually,” she dismissed, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“Maybe...maybe,” he said, looking down.
“Come on, you know it, everyone knows it. You and Howard is just like...I don’t know...physics or something!” Monika insisted, shrugging her shoulders slightly. Jason laughed softly.
The earth turns, the tide comes in and I love Howard Donald. I know that much.
“Yeah, well, I guess. And maybe it would’ve still got to here eventually but...don’t dismiss it, ok? You looked out for me. Other than Howard...I don’t really have that many people who do that. Coz they just...leave me to look out for them instead. In fact, I don’t even look out for me...I don’t ever look out for me really. Which actually drives Howard insane sometimes. But you...you looked out for me – unprompted and without making a big deal of it – and it meant you stepped in at the right time with the right words and...just...thank you. You’re a good friend, a proper friend, and I really needed that...and I’m grateful for it, ok?” Jason explained, looking Monika in the eye. She smiled slightly and leant over, wrapping him in a firm hug.
“Ok then. But you’re welcome, you know. You’ll always be welcome to my friendship,” she said quietly. She just had time to give him one more squeeze before the buzzer for the flat interrupted the moment and the two of them slowly had to part.
Chapter Seventeen
“Jay?” Howard was slightly surprised by the sound of his own voice, soft as it was. Jason looked up at him instantly, though he didn’t seem as startled as Howard by the interruption to the companionable silence that had existed between them for the best part of an hour. Howard half-wondered if Jason had been expecting the interruption, always knowing Howard that little bit better than Howard knew himself. But then, Howard supposed, no truce of silence ever did last long between them. Most were broken with flirts and kisses, some were broken with screams and slamming doors. They could go through every extreme with each other in the space of a week and yet still, at the end of it all, Howard would usually find the word ‘Jay’ on his lips and he suspected Jason knew that it had been written there ever since the day Jason had offered it to him.
I’ll let you call me Jay. Then he let me call him ‘everything’ and the wording stopped mattering. But I always come back to ‘Jay’. It was like an invitation to the sort of intimacy passing strangers shouldn’t even glimpse. At the end of the day we’re all just passing strangers until someone offers up a name. And he offered me his. Jay. Everything starts there.
“What’s wrong, love?” Jason asked, slowly closing his book. He closed it on his finger to mark the page, but the book had lost his attention entirely, that much was clear. His eyes met Howard’s and he smiled, for a moment letting them both forget where they were. Neither one of them was the sort to believe in ‘Now is not the time’ and so they let the look linger. Howard was the first to force himself to look away. Jason’s head tilted slightly, his expression creasing into concern.
“Do you ever...do you ever just start thinking about something...and even though you don’t get why you’re thinking about it, you just...you can’t stop? Like...you feel like there’s something you ought to be able to figure out for yourself but you can’t?” Howard stuttered out at last. Jason laughed softly and shook his head. His blue eyes were dazzlingly bright as he smiled, distracting Howard briefly.
“I always knew you married me for my looks and not my personality,” Jason sighed teasingly. Howard frowned for a moment until slowly it dawned on him.
Thinking. His specialty.
“No...I didn’t...ok, so that was a stupid question but...you know what I mean, right?” he asked hopefully. Jason smiled, nodding slowly, all kindness and affection once more. Those blue eyes of his were still sparkling with light laughter though. Howard had no desire for that to change.
“How, just tell me what’s wrong,” Jason pressed gently, subtly sliding the bookmark into his book before discarding the book entirely. Howard smiled slightly and shook his head.
“It’s probably stupid,” he dismissed.
“Stupid can be beautiful sometimes, broken can be beautiful. Fucked up can be beautiful, we both know that. You just have to put it into context. I think you’re beautiful, so I think what you have to say must be beautiful too,” Jason shrugged. He was leaning slightly towards Howard now. They didn’t touch; Howard’s hands still fiddled with his headphones and Jason’s were folded in his lap, but Howard still felt a shiver between his shoulder blades as Jason’s eyes skimmed across him. A blue, glittering shiver that made its way across his whole body before rebounding. Howard saw it hit Jason too, whose smile quirked just a little in reaction.
“Are you flirting with me?” Howard asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Always,” Jason smiled, his eyes alive with mischief and love and a thousand different shades of blue. Howard forgot, for a moment, that there was any serious agenda, watching Jason’s raised eyebrow, his flirtatious smile.
“Jason Orange, I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to even think what you’re thinking whilst on a plane,” Howard teased and Jason laughed, pulling a face and shaking his head.
“It’s fine, you can kill it just by using the word plane,” he countered.
“How are you with cars?” Howard asked and Jason rolled his eyes.
“I’m not a teenager – I will not kiss you in the backseat, Howard Donald. Find me a public place, I’ll let you kiss me there, where I can trust you to behave,” he smirked.
“Never trust me to behave in any place with you,” Howard grinned back without shame. Jason simply laughed, shaking his head then leaning back in his seat.
“So, is this what you’ve been thinking about all this time? Or is there something more going on in that head of yours?” he asked. Howard pulled a face. He also sat back, briefly looking away from Jason but finding his eyes straying back. Jason was watching him, silently contemplative.
“When I overreacted yesterday...when I...when I let myself get back to that place in my head so quickly, despite everything, despite everything you said that I should’ve listened to (and I did listen to) but I....well...when I did that, you didn’t get angry. I was being an idiot but you just...you let it be...” Howard trailed off, closing his eyes a moment and letting out a long breath.
“You weren’t being an idiot, How,” Jason said gently.
“I was,” Howard muttered without opening his eyes.
“Love, you are the biggest idiot of them all sometimes but...that wasn’t one of those times. You know I know you were looking out for me, nothing more,” Jason insisted. Howard opened his eyes then, regarding Jason carefully before looking down at his hands.
“You said you ‘got it’,” he murmured.
“I do,” Jason told him with quiet confidence edging his tone, forcing Howard to meet his eyes again.
“That’s more than I do, Jay. All I want to do is keep you safe but I just...I end up hurting you. And I can’t stand that I just keep hurting you when all I’ve ever wanted is to keep you safe,” Howard admitted after a beat. Jason smiled.
“See, you get it too,” he said and Howard frowned.
“What?” he asked.
“I’ve always wanted to be in control of things. I don’t know when it started or...I just know I have always been that way. But it never...it never defined me, you know? I had to...keep people at arm’s length, I guess. People do not pick me up, take me by the hand, lead me, carry me, initiate something more than what I let them – those were my rules. You were my exception. Then Emily happened. And now I...I struggle to remember that exceptions are ok. Sometimes I even have to fight to know what’s me being me and what’s me reacting to what she did. And I overcompensate sometimes. And I lose myself. It’s part of who I am now...it crept up on me and I’m still trying to figure it out and sometimes it gets out of hand. But I know you will never judge me for it...and that’s all that really matters to me,” Jason explained, slow and quiet.
It’s one of those moments. Of pure exposure. Like the times he has gripped my hand behind our backs and no one but me and him knew he was scared. Or the times he has laughed an entirely uninhibited laugh at nothing at all and trusted me not to call him an idiot. But why now?
“I don’t...” Howard began but Jason shook his head to cut him off.
“You weren’t immune either, love,” he said gently, looking up at Howard with his piercing eyes.
“To...to what?” Howard stammered, though something was tugging at the back of his memory. Tugging so hard that he was almost overcome by it.
“You know what,” Jason insisted. And Howard knew he was right, because there that something was again, tugging and tugging and fighting to be remembered for exactly what it was.
Loss. Gnawing, hopeless loss. The sort of loss that is not just empty but tearless too.
He looked away from Jason, staring out of the window. He wasn’t sure how long he stared. But he felt Jason’s eyes on him the entire time, which served to balance out the loss somewhat. That feeling of something gripping on his ribs and trying to break them eased a little with Jason’s willingness to be nothing more than present. Because being present was what Howard needed him to be more than anything else after the memory of his absence hit. Eventually Howard sucked in a breath.
“For half an hour (and for the odd moment of fear and one or two attacks of complete self-doubt afterwards)...for half an hour I...I thought I’d lost you forever,” he confessed at last. Jason looked down then and Howard felt his gaze slip away.
“You’re overprotective, How. You always have been. It drives me completely insane but...I completely love that about you. You’re jealous, you’re an idiot...and you’re always convinced you have to protect me,” Jason murmured. Howard smiled slightly.
“Thinking I’d fought so hard and still fucked it up...I just...” he trailed off.
“I stopped trusting anyone to be in control, you stopped trusting the world not to swallow me whole,” Jason supplied quietly.
“Almost every fight comes down to that doesn’t it,” Howard realised and Jason laughed softly.
“I guess. This past year we have both been overcompensating...but that only made it worse,” he remarked. Howard glanced over at him.
“Yesterday...I didn’t even realise it sounded so crazy. Not until I’d said it. Every little thing though...it matters because I know what not having you is like. I know what it feels like to have to think about something happening to you and me not getting you back and...” Howard stopped. He closed his mouth and closed his eyes. Silently Jason reached across, placing one hand on top of Howard’s and interlacing their fingers.
“I came back though,” he whispered.
“I don’t want to take my chances,” Howard replied without opening his eyes. They sat in silence a moment, Jason’s grip still firm on Howard’s hand.
“For what it’s worth, love...I’d rather have spent this fucked up year with you than have spent a year in paradise with someone else,” Jason said quietly. Howard finally opened his eyes.
Well if that’s not love then love doesn’t exist.
It wasn’t until they were safely back on the ground that Howard’s fears began to surface again. Jason was standing a small way away from him, watching as he dragged cases from the carousel to the trolley. Howard kept glancing back at him as they waited for the rest of their luggage, his eyes darting between Jason and the others who were waiting around them. It always fascinated him – other people’s reaction to Jason and, more importantly, people’s reaction when they saw that Jason was all his. When he took Jason to gigs with him, sometimes he would pull Jason to him mid-dance, whispering flirts and mischief in his ear and watching for faces in the crowd reacting when Jason fell into him as he laughed. Today Jason was more quietly his; the only real proof was Howard’s jacket, which Jason was pulling around himself tightly. The sleeves were too long and the fabric dwarfed him but when Howard had wrapped it around his shoulders he had smiled with such sleepy warmth that Howard found it easy to conclude that the outfit suited him. He wanted everyone else to see it too; the smile and the glow and the belonging that Jason had shown in that moment.
Belonging, that’s the important one. I want them all to notice that this man – who doesn’t let anyone take ownership of him – is standing over there being all mine. Just casually. Like it doesn’t mean the fucking world to me.
Howard let out a sigh, turning around and dragging the final case across and onto the trolley.
“That’s the last one,” he informed Jason, straightening up and stretching out his back slightly. Jason smiled back at him, coming over and putting his arms around Howard’s neck.
“Mm, I love being the girl in this relationship,” he smirked, rising up briefly to give Howard a peck on his lips before leaning back, letting Howard wrap his arms around his waist.
“You’re a lazy beggar, Orange,” Howard chuckled and Jason shrugged idly.
“I am what you made me, Donald; spoilt in the extreme,” he beamed. Howard’s eyes glittered and he pressed a kiss to Jason’s forehead.
“Now all I need is to find a way to sneak out of this place without your family seeing us and we’ll be golden,” he sighed. Jason looked up at him for a moment, tilting his head to one side. His fingers played absently with the ends of Howard’s hair. Howard felt his fingertips brush the back of his neck.
“You’re a wonderful man, Howard Donald. And I love you. That’s all my family need to know,” Jason said gently. Howard smiled down at him, giving him another kiss on his forehead.
“No, they should know that I love you too,” he answered. Jason stretched up enough to hug Howard tightly before stepping back from the embrace.
“You ready for this then?” he asked kindly and Howard nodded, putting his hands on the trolley’s handle and staring in the direction of the exits.
“As I’ll ever be,” he muttered with a roll of his eyes. Just as he had on the plane before, Jason simply placed one hand on top of Howard’s.
Belonging. It’s all he wants anyone to notice too.
In the arrivals hall, Gary and Mark had spent an awkward half an hour trying to stay out of everyone else’s way, eventually retreating to the safety of the cafe and choosing to drink tea and wait from a distance rather than join the uncomfortable group which had formed near the doors. Jason’s mother – a woman frequently credited for Jason’s remarkably patient nature – was muttering softly under her breath about delayed flights and Howard’s ability to hold her son up in an uncharacteristic display of fluster, whilst Justin stood by her side, taking a series of calls on his mobile from various brothers and cousins, trying to persuade them all to avoid coming to the airport and having to beg them to call Jason before turning up at the apartment. Behind them Howard’s mother was doing her best to calm Grace down, pretending not to hear any of the passing comments the Orange family made about her son. Gary and Mark had attempted to not look like spare parts, but they had both been painfully aware that they weren’t family. And both had felt a level of guilt nagging at their minds.
We didn’t pay attention, me and Mark. We were caught up with our own dramas and they became the important thing. I don’t think we ever paid enough attention and now...well, now I wish I had. Because maybe then I wouldn’t feel like Howard and Jason are going to walk through those doors and be people I don’t recognise. Or worse; be people who don’t want to recognise me.
Mark looked down into his tea as Gary stared off to the side, watching Justin fielding yet more calls whilst Grace ran over to check the arrivals board one more time. He barely focused on what he was looking at, busy going back over opportunities missed, warnings he had left unheeded. When he thought back to the argument he and Jason had had he cringed. Some of the things he’d said, the words he’d used. Everything he knew about Jason should’ve told him he was saying the wrong things. But he’d just ploughed on.
Mark sighed, looking up at Gary and smiling fondly. He touched a gentle hand to Gary’s across the table, stroking his thumb along Gary’s skin and tilting his head.
“Come on, Gaz, you should be happy; the band are getting back together,” he grinned, that cheeky Mark Owen sparkle lighting up his eyes. Infectious as it was, Mark’s light only raised a half-hearted smile from Gary.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have come today. Maybe we should’ve left it, gone round later and talked it out a bit more,” Gary sighed after a moment, sipping his own tea and shaking his head slightly. Mark chewed his lip thoughtfully, a small frown creasing his brow.
“Did he say anything to you when he called last night?” he asked. He didn’t know what had been said between Gary and Jason over the course of the past year. All Gary would tell him was that words had been exchanged, that he had said the wrong thing and Jason had lost his temper. That had been enough to alarm Mark, as the occasions Jason lost control of his temper were rare.
“I said some things I wasn’t proud of that night, you know?” Gary said softly.
“Last night?!” Mark frowned in confusion and Gary chuckled at him softly, rolling his eyes.
“Not last night you plonker...I meant when we...when we had that fight,” Gary corrected him.
“Oh...ok. But does that matter anymore? I mean...I called him this morning and...he seemed fine. He seemed like we were fine, all of us,” Mark put in, shrugging slightly.
I can’t help but notice Mark doesn’t sound entirely confident about that.
“I’m not saying that he’s not...that it’s not ok now. From his point of view I think it is. But the thing I am trying to get my head around is that I didn’t try and do something. I didn’t even realise how I was coming across, you know? And that’s what eats me up, Marko. I could’ve fixed it. If I’d been paying attention I could’ve helped. Or I could’ve tried at least,” Gary admitted, running his tongue briefly over his top lip and looking away. Mark smiled slightly, giving Gary’s hand a squeeze.
“Poor Gary Barlow, always trying to save the world,” he said gently, his eyes bright. Gary looked up at him slowly, a wry smile just touching his lips.
“I just want to make a difference somewhere. If I can’t do it with music, is it really so much to ask to want to help my friends?” he asked.
“No. Maybe not. But you can’t do everything. I know what you’re like, Gaz. Always working, always with a project. And that’s all well and good but if you keep it up you’re going to tire yourself out,” Mark told him, letting out a soft laugh.
“Mark!” Gary protested, slight amusement rising in his voice.
“What?! It’s the truth isn’t it? You always have to be doing something! You are the hardest working man I’ve ever met and what’s bugging you is that there was something there that needed work and you didn’t work at it,” Mark shrugged, leaning back in his seat, his hand slipping out of Gary’s.
This man knows me far too well.
“You say that Marko, but I can’t just turn it off like that. Until I know for sure there was nothing I could do it’s going to drive me mad,” Gary replied. Mark nodded.
“I know. But I also know Jay and Howard – there is no one who can fix them better than they can. Something tells me that’s not changed much,” he smirked and Gary chuckled.
“Not if the phone calls we’ve exchanged these past two days are anything to go by,” he agreed.
“Jay would not take so much nonsense from anyone else,” Mark grinned back. He leant forward again then, putting down his tea and resting his chin on his hand, looking over to where Grace was bobbing about excitedly. Gary followed his gaze.
“Except maybe that lot,” he remarked with a smirk and Mark smiled, turning back to look at Gary.
“I don’t know, I think Howard’s got the edge. You’ve got the edge for me,” he said and Gary met his eyes, holding his gaze a moment before leaning across the table and giving Mark a brief kiss.
He’s always been a sweetie, my Marko.
The moment was cut by a sudden commotion across the hall and Mark and Gary both turned in time to see Howard and Jason emerging through the doors. Jason was wearing a jacket that looked suspiciously like Howard’s, whispering something conspiratorially in Howard’s ear before looking over to where his mother and brother were standing and flashing them a smile.
“Do you think Jay will trust me again?” Mark asked softly as he watched Grace bolt over to her dad, barrelling into him and letting him scoop her up into his arms.
“Trust you?!” Gary frowned confused.
He told me he called Jay this morning...I thought they’d cleared the air.
Mark looked down at his hands then slowly back up into Gary’s eyes.
“Trust me not to hurt you,” he explained, soft and nervous. Gary looked at him carefully a moment, a lazy smile just creeping up towards his lips. Mark’s hair had been raked through with nervous fingers, his nails were bitten, his eyes were a shade of greyish blue that belonged to life’s worriers. And Mark would always be one of life’s worriers, obsessed with every last detail.
“Well, I trust you,” he said simply. Mark’s smile was instant, his eyes sparkling to life.
“Really?” he asked and Gary laughed.
“Really, you daft sod. And Jay will too you know. I know he’s not the most trusting man in the world but...he’s a great believer in second chances. He did marry Howard after all,” he pointed out. Mark chuckled and shook his head.
“You’re lucky I get your sense of humour, Gaz, otherwise your wit would get you in so much trouble,” he shot back.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about. Now come on, let’s go over and say hello,” Gary countered, smothering a smirk and making a move away from the table as Mark hurriedly grabbed up his scarf and bag whilst trying to finish off his drink at the same time.
As Mark dithered, the welcoming process got underway. Howard was still hugging Grace tightly and Jason had paused before going to greet his mother, choosing instead to watch Grace and Howard, sharing a smile with Grace over Howard’s shoulder.
“I missed you,” Grace told Howard happily, closing her eyes a moment. Howard smiled.
“I missed you too, sweetheart,” he told her, giving her a kiss before slowly setting her back down.
“And you, Jay,” Grace beamed as her feet touched the ground, promptly wrapping her arms around Jason’s waist.
“You say that now, but in two weeks time? Completely bored of me,” he teased, giving her a squeeze then letting her go back to Howard. He and Howard exchanged a brief glance before going any further. Howard smiled an unconvincing smile and Jason sighed, nodding to himself before pushing the trolley the small distance left between them and his family.
Justin, if you say anything you shouldn’t, I swear to God I will ram this trolley at your knees. I am twenty minutes older than you, I am well within my rights.
“Oh thank goodness! I was starting to think that man had had a change of heart and dragged you back to Germany with him!” Jason’s mother descended upon him with an overpowering hug. Howard swallowed and looked down, turning to his own mum and giving her a forced smile as he bent over to hug her. Jason closed his eyes and let out a tense sigh.
“Mum, Howard hasn’t had a change of heart since the day we met. And, for the record, neither have I,” he said gently, trying to keep his tone light. Over the top of their mothers’ heads, Jason and Howard shared a smile and Howard’s eyes shone with gratitude. He mouthed ‘Thank you’ but Jason rolled his eyes at him affectionately.
It’s the truth and everyone bloody knows it except my family.
As Jason hugged his mother and brother in turn, giving them a few reassurances that he was alright and had survived the journey home in one piece, he spotted Gary and Mark walking over. They stood a little way back, shoving their hands in their pockets and standing awkwardly, reluctant to intrude on the moment. Jason simply smiled at them, giving them a wink before turning to Howard’s mother. After a brief hug he straightened up and cast his eyes over the group. Howard grinned to himself as he watched it; everyone there knew Jason was about to take charge.
“Justin, make yourself useful and take the bags to the car? Mum, I need you and Grace to nip over to the shop and get me a water and Howard and me will meet you outside in five minutes...” Jason turned to Howard then who smiled and obediently turned to his own mother.
“See you back at our place?” he asked and she smiled.
“Of course – Grace is going back with you I presume?” she checked and Howard looked to Jason who simply rolled his eyes.
“Come on, like I’m going to tell her to get out the car!” he laughed and Howard smiled.
“Thank you,” he said as the others began to move off.
“Shush, it’s nothing,” Jason shrugged.
“I meant thank you for being my husband actually,” Howard smiled and Jason glanced up at him, returning his playful smile and shaking his head slightly.
“My pleasure,” he said sincerely, giving Howard a quick kiss before turning around to face Mark and Gary. Mark hid slightly behind Gary, giving a nervous wave as Gary stretched out his arms.
“Hello strangers,” Gary beamed, his smile dazzling. All his outstretched arms were missing were jazz hands but still Jason gladly accepted the showbiz hug.
Oh Gaz, ever the showman.
It wasn’t until hours later that Jason and Howard finally found themselves standing still again. Jason was forced to see to the needs of two half-sisters, one step-sister, two brothers (as well as Justin) and both his parents, repeating assurances of his wellness and his health as well as having to tell them, in great detail, anything of interest that may or may not have occurred since they had last had the chance to see him in person. Despite all the fuss Jason stayed by Howard’s side; people had to come to him if they wanted to talk, and if they didn’t, he spoke to Howard and Howard alone. It was taken, by Howard at least, as a silent declaration of war. Jason was, from now onwards, determined to change his family’s attitude. And he was starting by not breathing a word of what had really happened between himself and Howard whilst they’d been away, something Howard was grateful for but Jason would not let him treat as extraordinary. To Jason it was simple; his loyalty lay with Howard, because Howard wasn’t forcing him to choose. In any case he knew that his family would only take heed of one side of the story despite the fact that neither he nor Howard had been perfect or blameless. Howard, for his part, talked to his own parents, put in a couple of phone calls to siblings and he and Jason, in a rare moment of peace from the Orange contingent, chatted to Mark and Gary, intrigued to know more about Mark’s grand reappearance in Manchester. In return Mark and Gary managed to pry brief details from Jason of his and Howard’s arguments, but Jason, ever-observant, told them both to ask him another time as he spotted his dad bearing down on him for yet another hug.
I don’t mind Mark and Gary knowing. Between the four of us we’ve done some pretty fucked up things. But Jay’s dad? I’d rather he was none-the-wiser. Only the best for his son, right?
Howard knew the afternoon was just as hard on Jason as it was on him. He knew Jason too well to believe the smiles and the light-hearted jokes he shared with his family. Maybe his family knew it too, deep down, but Jason was giving them his time, out of courtesy and love, and they wanted to ignore any superficiality lingering in the brightness of Jason’s laugh. Howard did all it was he could do; place a quiet hand on the small of Jason’s back every now and again. No one but he and Jason knew that Jason leant into that hand, weak and heavy and more tired than he cared to let on. In a way it was a secret acknowledgement between the two of them, an acceptance of the fact that they weren’t quite ok just yet. Because Jason couldn’t settle until the bags were unpacked, until he’d walked around every room of the apartment and made sure it was exactly as he wanted it to be. And as for Howard, he just wanted Jason back to himself. He didn’t care if it was selfish or stupid – he wanted them to be able to just relax, be daft together again.
And I’m the only one he’ll really be daft with. I like when it’s like that. When it’s like that I can be certain that he’s ok again, that I’m looking after him right again.
Jason had spent several long hours unpacking after everyone had left and, knowing better than to stop him, Howard had spent the time with Grace, being careful to look up each time Jason passed by, always catching his eye at just the right moment. He even won himself a few smiles. Nearly there, Jason’s eyes read. And, eventually, as it started to rain outside, Howard found himself standing in the living room with nothing left to do. Grace was in bed, the front door was locked and the answer-phone hastily turned on following the final call of the day. He smiled to himself, the words ‘At bloody last’ briefly entering his head before he chuckled to himself and headed for the bedroom, where Jason had retreated the moment the phone had rung. He was done with people for one day.
Done with people but not done with me. Stupid bugger; for some reason he is never done with me.
When Howard came into the bedroom he saw Jason standing by the window, watching the rain melt the Manchester snow outside. Howard smiled to himself slightly, pausing to watch Jason for a moment. Since they’d met he’d watched Jason stare out of so many windows. He’d seen it so often he knew all the different stares, which were troubled and which were thoughtful, which were upset or angry. This stare was none of those, this stare was simply tired. Contented, perhaps, but Howard could see the tiredness more than anything, he’d felt it radiating from Jason for most of the afternoon. Drawing in a breath and just managing to keep his smile in check, Howard came up behind Jason quietly, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing the crook of his neck. Jason smiled as Howard clamped his arms tightly around his middle and he placed his own hands on top of Howard’s, leaning back against his chest.
“Who was on the phone?” he asked with a sigh and Howard squeezed him a little tighter.
“Just Oliver, making sure his big brother is alive, saying sorry he couldn’t make it this afternoon. I told him it was mad enough here today without him joining in and he seemed to get the picture,” he said with a soft chuckle. Jason tilted his head to look up at Howard properly.
“You didn’t have to talk to him you know, I would’ve come if you’d said,” he murmured and Howard shrugged, a sly smile playing on his lips as he looked down at Jason.
“Nah, it’s fine. Oliver’s always liked me ever since I introduced him to them girls who work at the club up town,” he grinned and Jason laughed, shaking his head fondly.
“God knows why, those sorts of girls will only break his heart,” Jason remarked, turning back to look out of the window. Howard felt Jason lean into him a little more and he let him, watching his blue eyes reflect the red and amber city outside. He blinked several times in quick succession, long lashes brushing against his skin and coupled with a brief flash of tongue on his top lip – the flicker of some deep thought being pushed away, Howard suspected.
“Are you trying to tell me that people of loose morals can’t change for the right person?” Howard asked with a smile and Jason’s lips quirked up. He turned in Howard’s embrace, putting his arms around Howard’s neck and looking up at him.
“I’m saying that them girls probably liked the fact my little brother is a gentleman, but the novelty will have had to have worn off by now, no matter how nice my brother was to them. And anyway, not one of those girls has a heart like yours, How, that’s why you’re with me right now and none of them are,” Jason smirked, kissing Howard once on the lips then leaning back in his arms.
“You shouldn’t be too harsh on them girls, love, it’s not their fault. I mean, the best brother is already taken, right?” Howard grinned and Jason laughed, rolling his eyes.
“That’s your opinion, love,” he pointed out.
“And my opinion is right, just this once, coz you’re worth a million of anyone else on this planet,” Howard said softly, kissing Jason’s forehead.
For a moment Jason looked up at Howard, his eyes glittering but giving away nothing. Then, suppressing a smile, he tucked his head underneath Howard’s chin, slumping against Howard’s chest slightly. And there he was; dressed up in jeans, an old hoody and Howard’s arms, his eyes pale blue and smattered with the city’s lights. It was one of a thousand little moments which had added up over the years, millions of little fragments of a man Howard had never imagined before he met him and had never seen anyone match up to since. This man was the same man who was the perpetually busy second-eldest child of Tony and Jenny Orange, who still used the matter of minutes between himself and his twin for leverage, who accidentally managed to make himself the centre of any room he walked into, who had once danced on a table with Mark Owen in a crowded bar and who had once kissed Howard full on the lips in the middle of a song with a pub-full of people (as well as their bandmates) watching. This was the same man who had shouted Howard down, slammed a door and stormed out into the Frankfurt snow.
It’s ridiculous isn’t it, that someone like him could ever think he’s not his own person? He’s several thousand times his own person. When he agreed to marry me – fuck that, when he agreed to talk to me – he gave me a million different men to love. All of them him, all of them stunning. Especially this man, the one with a pale blue Manchester cityscape reflected in his eyes.
“You know I never would’ve got further than that bench, How,” Jason mumbled sleepily, breaking the silence. At first Howard frowned, confused as he surfaced from his own thoughts and was plunged straight into Jason’s. But then slowly he started to understand, a thoughtful smile briefly coming to his lips. He placed a single kiss to the top of Jason’s head then rested his chin there.
“Love, I would’ve only chased you if you had,” he replied.
Chapter Eighteen
Howard’s eyes blinked open, fleetingly, as something moved beside him, momentarily blocking the sunlight which was bouncing off an early-morning snowfall and in through the bedroom window. He closed his eyes again and listened to the sound of something on his bedside table being moved, just managing to raise a sleepy smile as a hand briefly cupped his cheek and a kiss was given to his forehead with perfected softness. The figure moved away, disturbing the shadows across Howard’s face once more, and Howard’s smile widened for a moment before he turned over and let his body become heavy again. He balanced himself, with the skill of an Olympic gymnast, between sleep and waking. It was one of his greatest talents, he thought; recapturing sleep and reigniting his dreams. Whenever he heard people complain about how hard it was to get back inside a dream, he always thought to himself they were simply being too picky, always wanting the exact same dream they had been in to come back to them. He didn’t understand why they couldn’t just focus on some other dream and paint in the details with their closed eyes. He knew he was fortunate that, so very often, he was allowed to wake up to a dream; some strange world where a beautiful and charming man kissed him awake and ordered him around. But all the same, did none of these people have the ability to remember?
Maybe if they all did that they’d stop fucking teasing me when I daydream, they’d all be preoccupied with daydreams of their own then. Only Jay knows my secret...he still teases me for it though. Sometimes.
Untroubled with his inability to recapture whatever dream had been in his head before, Howard simply remembered. A skill he had always had – ever since he was a kid he had used the morning to remember the nicer things – and it had to be said, there were a lot of things nicer than actually getting out of bed. It had made him late for school on more than one occasion, late for some job interviews too but, somehow, never late for work. Well, not seriously late anyway. Maybe ten minutes, give or take. Howard suspected he had honed the skill greatly over the years. Since meeting Jason, that is. It was undeniable that, since he had first met Jason Orange, there had been a whole lot of good memories to choose from. ‘Last Night’ had become his most frequently used title. And this Last Night? Well, an unremarkable affair truth be told.
But the unremarkable ones are usually the best.
Last night when Howard had stood holding Jason for the longest time. Because there was more than enough pleasure in simply being still with Jason, Howard thought. It was a little like that moment of awe when you finally catch a firefly; everything stops and you just watch, holding your breath. And as Howard watched, somewhere amidst the stillness, Jason shifted in Howard’s embrace. Howard’s lips twitched up as a black and white glimpse of it all formed its outline on the insides of his eyelids. Jason had kissed him. He had been tired and requiring Howard to support him, but he had still chosen it. And Jason was so rarely the one who chose to move any evening in such a direction that Howard had almost been too spellbound by the whole wordless thing to react. He had reacted though, with a slowness that matched Jason’s perfectly. Every movement was heavy and loaded with something Howard couldn’t quite place, and didn’t quite want to for fear that putting a name on it might change the magic it held in his mind.
The long, lazy magic.
Howard didn’t know how much later it was when Jason lay his head down or how long it was before the lying to turned to sleep. He just remembered watching Jason fall asleep on his chest. Howard hadn’t fallen asleep for a long time after that, preoccupied with watching Jason, still fascinated at the many men embodied in just one soul. His arm had been across Howard’s stomach and Howard had put a hand on top of it, one thumb stroking Jason’s skin. He had fallen asleep that way, he realised with a smile, and he couldn’t help but wonder how Jason had managed to extricate himself from the bed without waking him that morning. After a moment he realised he was holding his breath again and it occurred to him that maybe he should save this memory.
I should get up.
Reluctantly he rolled over once more, yawning into the pillow then slowly opening his eyes. There had been snow since last night. The rain had gone now, though Howard could still almost hear it in his head, an echo left by the memory of the sound of it on the window and Jason’s breath on his skin, Jason’s skin against his skin...he blinked and let out a sigh, staring at the ceiling. As he forced the memory out of his mind, he turned his head again, studying his bedside table. A mug of coffee had been placed there, though it was the notepaper it was holding in place that attracted Howard’s attention. Pushing himself up in bed a little he reached across, lifting the mug and extricating the note from under it. The note was brief and Howard chuckled softly as he read it; ‘For you – one daydream and a coffee x’ Jason’s handwriting was at a diagonal across the page.
His real gift? A new meaning for the sound of the rain.
As Howard folded the note carefully, tucking it inside a box on his bedside table to join a small collection of other notes Howard deemed special enough to save, he heard the sound of the bathroom door. He looked around just in time to see Jason pass by the bedroom doorway, wandering down the corridor and pulling on a shirt as he went. Howard watched him, a grin playing on his lips that was three parts love and two parts mischief.
Time to get dressed.
Howard was still pulling on his jumper as he came down the corridor and into the lounge and he stopped at the edge of the room to give himself chance to get the sleeves on properly. Jason was standing at the breakfast bar, dressed in tracksuit bottoms and a loose-fitting top, hair still damp from the shower and his back to Howard as he studied one of the many lists which were laid out in front of him. Grace was standing in the kitchen, happily helping Jason cook the evening’s meal and she was the first to spot Howard standing there, looking up from the stirring Jason had her doing and smiling at him. Howard simply put a finger to his lips and moved over towards his husband causing Grace to roll her eyes and turn away.
Carefully Howard came to stand behind his husband, wrapping his arms around his middle and grabbing him close. Jason jumped slightly at the contact, trying to hide his smile as Howard kissed the crook of his neck. Howard could feel him relax into the embrace, betraying him completely.
“Morning, love,” Howard smiled over Jason’s shoulder, tightening his grip and pulling Jason back from the kitchen in a way only he was ever allowed to do.
“Put me down, Howard, seriously!” Jason laughed, struggling unconvincingly in Howard’s grip. Howard simply lifted him up, carrying him a short way and kissing the crook of his neck once more. Jason squirmed, trying to hinder Howard’s attempts to kiss him but failing entirely.
“Nope, not going to happen. Seriously,” Howard chuckled in response, letting Jason’s hands try to budge the arms which were clamped around his waist as he all but spun the two of them round.
“Grace, help me,” Jason whimpered as Howard set him down but refused to loosen his grip. Grace looked up at them and instantly pulled a face of disapproval.
“Dad,” she groaned and Howard simply laughed. Jason was smiling too, his eyes speckled with laughter though he attempted to shoot Howard as withering a gaze as he could muster.
“Unclasp me?” he tried and, slowly, Howard released Jason from the embrace, though he made sure he kept hold of one arm. Jason was only vaguely aware of the sly smile that was on Howard’s lips and Howard didn’t give him the chance to study it too carefully before he turned Jason around to face him with a single, swift movement. Jason had no time to train his reactions as Howard brought their lips together for a kiss.
The advantage of not letting Jay think before he acts? It’s pure impulse. And when it’s pure impulse? It’s usually the exact opposite of whatever he’s insisting he wants.
Howard’s hands moved to press on Jason’s back as the kiss deepened and Jason responded by moving his body still closer to Howard’s, his hands cupping Howard’s face. Howard smiled into the kiss and moved a hand to the centre of Jason’s back, forcing Jason’s spine into a subtle curve that brought Jason more completely into the circle of Howard’s arms. Howard slipped one hand beneath Jason’s top, running his fingertips briefly across his still-damp skin.
“Howard Donald you have a very strange definition of unclasping,” Jason’s breath was hot against Howard’s lips. He smiled at Jason, holding his gaze then giving him one more quick peck to his lips. As he leant back once more to look at him, he saw Jason smiling silently, eyes alight and looking straight into his own.
“Urgh,” Grace’s voice broke the moment and both men laughed. Jason stepped back from the embrace and turned to face Howard’s daughter, eyebrows raised and arms folded.
“Something wrong?” he asked and Grace paused a moment.
“No?” she tried and Jason smirked.
“She didn’t miss us as much as she thought, How,” he said then, giving Howard another quick peck to his cheek before he moved back over to the breakfast bar and set to work. Grace smiled at him as he came back and took her task as his own, letting her move over to a different job entirely. Howard raked a hand through his hair and sighed, watching them for a moment then stretching and rubbing at a crick in his neck.
“Right, I’m going for a shower,” he informed Jason, who glanced back up at him.
“I won’t be tricked when you get back this time,” he warned as Howard made his way out of the room, his eyes narrowed slightly at his husband’s retreating back.
“We’ll see,” Howard called over his shoulder with a smile.
Howard Donald is a bad influence on me. But then...he’s an even worse influence on himself.
When Mark and Gary arrived it was early evening – snow was falling again against a dark blue sky and the stars were just starting to peer out from behind the afternoon’s slowly-departing clouds. Jason was standing by the window when he noticed them down below, Gary helping Mark across the ice. He smiled and rolled his eyes as Mark slipped and almost pulled the two of them over, shaking his head fondly at their continuing progress, both of them clinging to each other as though they were crossing an arctic tundra. It was nice to see them together at least, Jason supposed, even if they were both hopeless cases. He moved away from the bedroom window, grabbing a thin jumper to put over his shirt and pulling it on as he went. He came into the lounge just as the knock on the door sounded through the apartment (Gary’s knock, had to be if it was that unapologetic) and he paused a moment to survey the scene; neither Grace nor Howard looked away from the television, both engrossed in some concert or other. Jason sighed.
I’ll get it then.
It only took Mark until the end of dinner to wheedle from everyone almost every story there was to tell. He had a habit of disarming people and there were no reported cases of immunity from any corner of the globe as yet. He wasn’t unfair, he was content with occasionally offering information of his own, most of which centred on Emma and his time with her in New York. ‘She’s finally got herself into theatre you know – just an understudy but I know she’s going to make it’ he’d enthused at one point, eyes sparkling with excitement for his friend. Jason had smiled at him for that, because, for all his mistakes, there was no better friend to have than Mark. Ok, he might struggle to remember to pick up a phone, but when you had his attention, he was all yours, wholly and completely. A man who would back you with all the enthusiasm he had, even if the rest of the world was telling you that you were crazy. A man who would never say a bad word about you, even when you lashed out at him after a rough day. Even if the rest of the world hated you, he would never accept an invite to join in as long as you were his friend. Jason studied him carefully as he talked, mindful of Gary and everything Mark had put him through. Gary’s smile was undeniable, however, and the two leant into each other unaware, as though they didn’t understand what ‘apart’ even meant. Gary was the lazier of the two, leaning back in the armchair, his voice falling into that slight slur it took on when he was relaxed enough to start joking around. Mark was perching on his lap, occasionally falling back against him, his arms around Gary’s neck, his head tossing back as he laughed. It was reassuring and, if he was honest, Jason didn’t think he’d seen them that happy in such a long time – after all, even when they had first met, there had been so much wrong in both their worlds. Mark had still been trying with all his might to pretend Robbie Williams hadn’t walked out on him and Gary had just dragged himself out of a quagmire of failure-related misery.
Not the best circumstances to meet the love of your life. Howard and me were lucky; he walked in the shop on a day when I was feeling marginally-less neurotic than usual...and he was feeling marginally-more bold.
Mark was the first to bring up his return. His only real hesitation came before he said Robbie’s name. He said it so softly Jason would’ve forgiven anyone for missing it. Mark’s glance was to Gary as he spoke. Gary simply smiled at him with a distant, yet understanding, look in his eyes. And so Mark had continued, a little more confidence creeping into his voice, though not much. Mark admitted, with a slightly shame-faced look, that Robbie had been the one to convince him to come back to Manchester, that he had all but given up on a happy ending until Robbie intervened. He filled in the side of the conversation by the Thames that Jason hadn’t heard and Jason mentioned to Gary the other side of the story, watching the look on Gary’s face carefully. Mark watched too, holding his breath. He saw Gary’s eyes shine slightly, muscles in his cheek tensing. Whatever emotion it provoked in him he chose not to divulge completely, simply sitting up and pressing a brief kiss to Mark’s cheek. With that Mark had finished the story, Gary taking hold of the hand that Mark had left dangling across his shoulder.
Jason and Howard sat across from them on the sofa, Jason’s arms around Howard’s middle whilst Howard had, without even realising, let one arm come to rest around Jason’s shoulders. As Mark and Gary talked Jason lay his head against Howard’s shoulder, tucking his legs around so his and Howard’s limbs became tangled together. It was subconscious for the two of them, they had a tendency to try and lock together in whatever way they could; Jason’s instinct with Howard was the opposite to what his instinct was when it came to the rest of the world. With Howard it was all about trying to stay close, seeking out Howard’s protection in whatever way it was available. Howard’s instinct, meanwhile, was always to guard Jason. He could even do it in his sleep. Sometimes when he was asleep he would reach across the bed to hold Jason close, something Jason knew but never mentioned to Howard for fear he would try to stop himself doing it. Jason preferred to let himself be held, waiting until Howard’s sleep would deepen once more and he would slowly loosen his grip and eventually roll away. It was also an unspoken truth between them that sometimes Jason was the one who would reach out in the night, curling in close, every muscle in his body tensed. He got scared sometimes, for no reason at all. No one before Howard had been allowed to know that. As he felt Howard’s arms pulling him even closer on the sofa that night, Jason knew that part of the reason they were married was because he couldn’t imagine anyone but Howard ever being allowed to know that information.
He’s the only one.
He lifted his eyes a moment and looked between the four of them. All with their own screw-ups to their names, all with their own struggles. It knitted together quite well, in the end. They had somehow managed to make each other’s short-comings make sense. There was a renewed sense that they were going to be honest with each other now. The ducking and diving that had gone before was not something any of them wanted to repeat. Frankness, even when it hurt, was probably the best option for them all. That was why neither Jason nor Howard felt capable of shying away when they were pushed to share their own struggles – and of course it was Mark who was the first to start the pushing.
“I guess it’s just been a difficult year, for all of us,” Mark’s statement was addressed largely to the ends of his sleeves and he sighed slightly as he said it, his eyes narrowed in concentration.
“I think it was good for us though. You have to be dropped in it sometimes, you know? So you get to see what you’re fighting for,” Howard’s fingers came up to brush idly at Jason’s neck and Jason smiled softly, looking down for a moment.
“It must’ve been tough though, if even you guys took the hit,” Gary remarked and Jason looked up at him in surprise, raising one eyebrow. He thought Gary knew better than to fall for the same traps other people did. Gary had, after all, been there for some of his and Howard’s most imperfect moments.
“Even us?! Come on, Gaz,” he dismissed with a self-conscious shake of his head. He felt Howard’s fingers become still on his neck as he placed a silent kiss to his temple.
“But you two are the poster-couple, Jay,” Mark pointed out, leaning back against Gary’s chest and biting on a nail. Jason looked at him a moment then sighed, pushing himself up a little.
“Look, me and Howard we...we get by. And we’re both fucking good actors when we want to be but...you guys should know better than anyone that perfect isn’t really...” Jason trailed off.
“Acceptance and forgiveness is the best anyone can do,” Howard offered quietly, his eyes glancing off to the windows. Jason’s lips twitched into a small smile, recognizing the sentiment. For a moment he was hit by a memory of Christmas lights and Frankfurt snow.
“Ok, let’s put it this way; this past year has been spent with me avoiding any battle just because I was too tired to fight and stand up for myself,” he admitted softly. As Jason spoke Howard let his head fall back on the sofa so he was staring at the ceiling. He let out a long breath.
“So I decided to pretend that I didn’t marry Jason Orange, that I preferred the budget edition,” he said, shaking his head a little at the still-fresh memory of it all. Mark looked between the two of them and frowned.
“Budget edition?” he queried and Howard laughed softly, sitting up again. He didn’t look at Mark, glancing down at Jason instead. Still curled up in his arms, his eyes downturned.
“Yeah. No colour screen. No moving pictures. In fact it was just...it was a bit like missing an entire concert coz you were too busy taking photographs of it, you know?” Howard sighed.
“Sounds like you worked it out though,” Mark put in and Jason looked up then, laughing self-consciously.
“Honestly? I screamed at him,” he said, blue eyes flicking up to Mark’s gaze briefly then across to Howard, giving his husband a shy, yet somehow mischievous, smile.
“After I behaved like a tit,” Howard reminded him kindly, a small smirk on his lips.
“You were a bit of a tit that night,” Jason agreed, a small but playful smile just behind his eyes. Gary looked between the two of them, aware that they had both become distracted but still slightly unclear of the facts.
“I’m sorry lads but you’ve lost me...” Gary frowned after a beat and Jason looked over at him.
“He chased me,” he offered, as if that explained all.
“And he didn’t run very far,” Howard grinned, kissing Jason’s temple again. A slow smile spread across Mark’s face as he watched them.
“Awww,” he said softly.
“Oh don’t you start, you’ll only encourage them,” Gary joked, getting a kiss on his cheek from Mark for his troubles.
“It was close is all, Gaz. Really fucking close,” Jason explained quietly.
“It’s nice though. Now, I mean. With us four like this again. It’s nice,” Mark murmured, sagging slightly against Gary’s chest. Gary nodded slowly, rubbing a hand over Mark’s back.
“Couldn’t agree with you more,” he said. Howard nodded slightly but his eyes were still narrowed thoughtfully in Gary’s direction.
That man is holding something back, I know it.
“Howard, love, would you mind doing the dishes for me?” Jason asked after a moment and Howard smiled slightly, kissing him once on the lips then moving to untangle their limbs.
“That was easy,” Gary remarked and Howard shrugged as he began collecting up plates.
“He’s done everything else today,” he explained with a grin.
“Here, I’ll help you,” Gary offered, extricating himself from Mark’s grip and following Howard towards the kitchen. Mark watched them go briefly before climbing out of the armchair and coming to join Jason on the sofa.
“Where did Grace go?” he asked as he sat down.
“Her room – Izzy just got back from her Christmas holidays and they’re due a marathon phone call,” Jason explained.
“Ok...so I can ask you something and there won’t be anyone coming in and listening who shouldn’t?” Mark clarified. Jason laughed uncertainly.
“Erm, I guess...” he replied with a slight shrug.
“No it’s just...I just want to know if...when Rob called you...did he...did he say how he felt? About me, I mean?” Mark asked nervously. Jason sucked in a breath.
“Markie, I don’t know if you should...” he began.
“Please, Jay. I need to know. Because I can’t lose him from my life again, Jay, I just don’t want to even think about doing that but...but I can’t lose Gary either. And I need to know if...I need to know if being friends with Rob is actually something I can do without risking everything I know I want with Gaz,” Mark interrupted, his eyes wide and plaintive. Jason shook his head slightly.
Should I tell him? I mean, I could tell him Rob said nothing. Because that would be the truth. Rob never once spelt out exactly how he felt about Mark in that phone call. Doesn’t mean it’s not fucking obvious though. It’s that old cliché; actions speak louder than words. And Robbie is, from my understanding of him, nothing if not a man of strikingly loud actions.
“Honestly? I think he still loves you, yeah. You said it yourself; he remembers every kindness because it’s been so rarely shown to him. And you’re the kindest person I know, Markie. To him, given his life experiences...you’re probably untouchable. But he was still the one that engineered this – you and Gary that is. He put you back together and he sent you back home, he’s proved he loves you in a way that means he probably wouldn’t want to risk your friendship. But...having said that, it still takes real love to do what he did for you,” Jason sighed at last and Mark smiled slightly.
“The sort of love that shouldn’t just be ignored though, right?” he said and Jason smiled.
“Probably not, no. But be careful, Markie. You give too much sometimes because you always try and give everything to everyone; don’t give too much to him. He’s fragile, he’d only get the wrong idea,” Jason warned softly and Mark smiled a sad sort of smile.
“It’s hard saying no to him,” he admitted. And Jason knew what he meant. The only difference being that there was only one person Jason had ever met who made him feel that way; he was in the fortunate position of only having fallen this deeply in love once in his life. He had managed to skip by having a first love, somehow. Or he had, at least, avoided falling headlong in love before Howard, only stumbling slightly (or occasionally walking casually) into the relationships that had gone before. He had gone down the route of one full-on fall down a flight of stairs and that was Howard. It had to be said, he seemed to be a testament to the fact some people really do just have one love of their life, without any first-stops along the way.
Robbie Williams certainly seems to only have loved once. Seems unfair though, somehow. Mark gets a second try. I had the one shot and, somehow, I didn’t miss. But him, he just got one shot too...and he missed and lost forever. Although it’s not exactly easy on Mark either. And the pressure on me and Howard not to lose what we have...no amount of love is easy. Would any one of us trade it though? I bet even Robbie wouldn’t if you asked him.
In the kitchen Howard had taken the job of washing, Gary opting for absent-minded drying instead. He stood leaning back against the kitchen counter, watching Jason and Mark talking. Though for once it wasn’t Mark he studied. It was Jason. Trying to read Jason was always a hard job, Jason was good at containing himself and Gary suspected that there was no one in the world but Howard who had ever seen Jason truly lose it. Justin might have seen more than most, he and Mark may have seen glimpses. But full-on losing control? Screaming, falling, breaking apart? Jason didn’t let the world see that. Whenever Mark and Gary tried to hold emotions in, things tended to fall to bits in spectacular fashion. But then they had been hiding from everyone, including each other, whereas Gary suspected hiding from Howard was near impossible for Jason. It still sounded as though Jason had managed it for the past year mind you. Hadn’t lasted, of course. Never could’ve lasted.
“You and Jay...” Gary said suddenly, leadingly. Howard looked up, eyebrows raised.
“Me and Jay?” he asked, confused.
“You...it’s...you two are ok now?” Gary wasn’t sure how to ask what he wanted to ask.
“His family don’t trust me, I sometimes check up on him like he’s a child and he knows I’m doing it, he has serious issues left over from an event I still can’t talk about without feeling like I’m about to throw up and I drive him insane by never thinking I’m good enough whilst he drives me insane by never remembering he’s not invincible. Ok? We are so far away from ok, Gaz. We’re just fucking...fucked up. But we’re happy. For some reason, we’re happy,” Howard put down what he was doing, not meeting Gary’s eyes but instead looking over to where Jason was. Gary smiled slightly.
The sentiment sounds familiar. Fucking fucked up but we’re happy. Beautiful, that. Maybe not quite right for a love song but never mind.
“And Jay?” Gary questioned, looking up at Howard.
“Jay is good. Exhausted but...happy,” Howard shrugged in response, his eyes still looking at Jason with so much love Gary almost felt he was intruding on a private moment, especially when Jason glanced up and caught the gaze. Gary looked down at his hands.
“I should’ve asked. I should’ve asked and I shouldn’t have put my foot in it,” he sighed eventually.
“Look, Gaz...I married a man who has the ability to completely surprise me from one hour to the next. The moment you catch him at in a phone call could’ve completely vanished by the time you hang up. This past year has been one long, continuous bad-time-to-catch-him. And that made it harder to tell the difference between who he really is and who he was pretending to be. I had hours on end where I should’ve worked it out and it still took me a year, so don’t feel bad for not working out you were saying the wrong thing in the space of a few minutes. Some of the things I’ve said to him I...but just trust me, he’s happy right now, different kinds of happy from one day to the next, one hour to another. But happy. Just worry when you have to worry. If you’ve learnt half as much as I have from this past year? You’ll know when you have to worry,” Howard told him and with that he moved out of the kitchen, flopping down on the sofa between Jason and Mark. Gary watched as Jason smiled and linked his arm through Howard’s, placing a kiss to his cheek.
Probably very good advice. And until then...well, all we can do until then is get a song or two written out of our mistakes.
By eleven o’clock it was almost impossible to detect the all-pervading greyness of the months which had gone before. Grace was dancing with Mark to a song on the television, Mark couldn’t stop laughing when the girl upstaged him and Gary couldn’t resist the temptation to heckle the pair of them from his place in the armchair.
“What I would give for a camera,” he remarked at one point as Grace pushed Mark and almost knocked him back over the coffee table. Mark simply laughed a cheeky laugh, taking a step back and fishing his phone out of his pocket.
“I’ve got one though,” he beamed, pressing a series of buttons on his phone and proceeding to shoot a small film of Gary sitting in the armchair. From the sofa, Howard watched in amusement, exchanging brief jokes with Gary before glancing back down at his husband, who was lying across the sofa. Howard wasn’t sure what time Jason had fallen asleep – it was uncharacteristic of him, Jason was usually always the last awake. But it had been a tough week. Howard brushed his fingers lightly against Jason’s forehead, moving away the hair which had fallen there. Jason moved his head slightly, letting out a small sigh, smiling a little in his sleep.
“Has anyone been keeping an eye on the time?” Gary’s voice broke the moment.
“Erm...ten to,” Mark replied, checking the time on his phone.
“Let’s go to the window so we can see the fireworks,” Grace beamed excitedly, picking up her hoody from the floor and pulling it on before making her way over to the large windows at the side of the room. Mark watched her with a smile then stepped over to sit with Gary, letting himself be tugged gently into his lap.
“You not coming, Gaz?” Mark asked, absently plucking fluff off Gary’s jumper.
“Does it involve moving?” he grumbled causing Mark to laugh.
“Well I’m not carrying you over there!” he countered and Gary suppressed a laugh.
“Oh go on then, I’ll come!” Gary sighed with exaggerated reluctance. Mark stood up and pulled Gary up after him, pausing to turn to Howard.
“What about you, old man?” he asked cheekily and Howard glanced down at Jason again.
“Maybe in a bit,” he said softly. Mark simply chuckled and turned away, tugging Gary over to the windows to join Grace.
Five more minutes, then I’ll join them.
Howard was half aware of the excitement building on the television and he looked between the pictures of London crowds and the significantly smaller crowd by the apartment window. He realised his mistake when Grace caught his eye; they had just about forgotten about him until then. Immediately Grace came bounding back over to him, perching on the arm of the sofa.
“Dad, are you coming or what?!” she pouted and Howard chuckled softly.
“There’s still time,” he said but Grace looked sceptical.
“They’re gonna start the countdown any minute! What sort of a start to the New Year is this?!” she protested, gesturing at Jason. Howard smiled softly, looking down at Jason, brushing his fingers across his forehead once again.
“The perfect start,” he murmured.
It’s everything last year should’ve had but didn’t. It’s everything that needs to happen in this next year. He deserves a rest, doesn’t he? Even if it’s only for a little while.
Grace pulled a face and folded her arms.
“You’ll have a rubbish view of the fireworks though,” she retorted, standing up and taking a step back towards the windows. Howard laughed.
“Trust me, I’ve got the best view of all sweetheart. Now go on, before you miss the fireworks too,” he told her before turning back to his sleeping husband. Grace sighed and moved away, shaking her head despairingly. Silently Howard moved his hand to rest on Jason’s forearm, stroking his thumb across Jason’s skin then leaning down to press a single kiss to his forehead. Jason’s eyes moved behind his eyelids.
At the windows Gary had suddenly gone quiet and Mark was looking at him in concern.
“You alright, Gaz?” Mark whispered to him, linking an arm through Gary’s and resting his chin on his shoulder. Gary opened his mouth then closed it again and frowned slightly. Mark noticed he was fiddling with something in his pocket.
“Ten...nine...” the sound of the crowds on the television reached them at the windows.
“Close your eyes a moment,” Gary said simply and Mark looked at him in confusion.
“Gaz...” he began but Gary looked at him with piercing blue eyes that wouldn’t take no for an answer. Mark closed his mouth and swallowed, nodding dumbly then closing his eyes.
“Eight...seven...” the cheers were getting louder now.
“Hold out your hands,” Gary instructed. Mark did as he was told. There was a pause as Gary reached into his pocket and, as if sensing a change in the room’s atmosphere, Howard looked over to them. Mark felt Gary place something into his hands.
“Six...five...” the television was now ignored entirely.
“Now open your eyes,” Gary whispered and Mark was quick to follow the instruction, blinking slightly in surprise at the scene before him. Gary, down on one knee, blue eyes twinkling up at him. Mark’s mouth fell open a little and his eyes moved to look at what Gary had placed in his hand; a very familiar-looking ring. A breathless smile coloured Mark’s lips
“Gaz...” Mark tried to speak again but Gary interrupted quickly.
“Mark Anthony Patrick Owen; would you do me the honour of staying married to me?” Gary asked with a slow smile. Mark’s smile spread wide across his face.
“Four...three...” Howard glanced back at the screen.
“You know what, Gary Barlow?” Mark asked with a grin.
“What?” Gary replied.
“Two...” Howard’s gaze was distracted once more, this time by Jason stirring in his lap.
“I’d bloody love to,” Mark’s answer was met by a grin and all at once Gary was on his feet.
“One!” cheers erupted from the television as Gary slid the ring back onto Mark’s finger before capturing his lips for a kiss.
On the sofa Jason blinked awake, glancing from the television then up at Howard with a smile.
“Happy New Year,” he murmured and Howard smiled lopsidedly down at him.
“Happy New Year, darlin’,” he replied, leaning down and pressing his lips against Jason’s. He could feel Jason’s lips smiling against his own and the kiss deepened; Jason slowly slid back up until he was sitting on Howard’s lap, his arms around Howard’s neck as Howard’s hands settled themselves on his waist. The sound of fireworks erupting in the Manchester sky only just managed to pervade the moment. Jason and Howard turned and, with a glittering smile, Jason pulled Howard up and over to the window with him to watch. For a moment all five of them watched the sky light up, the crackling and banging reverberating off every building in the city.
“Alright, lads, come here, hold hands, I’m not standing here on New Year’s day without a nice rendition of Auld Lang Syne – come on!” Gary chivvied suddenly, breaking the spell. And, for some reason, they followed his instruction without question. Even Grace didn’t see any need to protest, promptly coming to stand between her father and Jason and taking both their hands in her own.
“Alright Captain Barlow, you lead us in,” Jason smiled and Gary beamed over at him.
“A one, a two, a one, two, three, four...”
Epilogue
So, tell me honestly, Markie...if you had to sit here now and write it all down, would you actually feel like it was complete?
That was all Rob said. All he needed to say, really. To play the hero and the martyr all at once by putting things back where they needed to be. I don’t know if I had been mulling it over somewhere in the back of my brain before he’d even said it. I guess I was, I guess I must’ve done that. I asked if he meant like an autobiography. You know, I was really just stalling. I was trying to work out where he was going with it, to be honest with you. Although I surprised myself a bit with how much I actually did understand. I hadn’t thought about it much, not consciously. About when I was going to pull myself together, I mean. I had things to face up to and I had too many unexplored avenues to just quit. Although I wanted to quit.
Not quite. That’s what I said. It was so hard giving that answer to Rob. I knew the admission I was making. Both of us knew, that it wasn’t forever but...as long as we didn’t talk about it, we could live like that. We were in suspended animation until then, if you like. And I broke the spell; I spoke the unspoken truth. But it was the truth. And I think we could all use a bit more of that, every now and again. So he nodded and handed me a train ticket. Stoke station to Manchester Piccadilly. No one should write their autobiography until they have had happiness, lost it and found it again. Rob’s will never be written, but still it was him who bought me the ticket I needed to write mine.
Before, before I left, before Gaz and me fought...maybe even before I knew him...I always thought your life had to be about what you achieved. You and you only. If you couldn’t be the headline act in your own life then you’re fucking it up. Self-sustenance, you know? You are the only one who can make yourself happy. It’s the sort of shit you read somewhere once and then you start beating yourself up when it doesn’t work. I tried it and I lived by it and I destroyed myself with it. I left myself with only myself and it just wasn’t fucking working. I had no home and no Gaz; I was, by no means, happy. I was ok, from time to time I laughed and I forgot the underlying stuff, the crap stuff that I couldn’t fix on my own. But if you’d sat me down and asked me if I had found whatever it was I thought I needed to label my life a success, I still would’ve said no. Well, as long as you were Jay or Rob or someone else with a habit of making me admit to all of the shit things I think and feel but would rather not say. Would my life-story be complete without Gary Barlow? No it fucking wouldn’t, you know? I would hate the idea of my autobiography seeing me round out my days being just ok. And saying to Rob that I couldn’t have him as the last chapter in my autobiography was telling him that, for all that he loved me, he could never love me enough to make me happy. We broke up a long time ago, he said goodbye to me and he knew all along how I felt but at the same time he can’t help hoping. Coz we both know I would be enough for him. He could write his book tomorrow if I kissed him and meant it tonight. I never will though. I’ll kiss Gaz tonight and every night after and one day I’ll be able to write my story that way. Rob will be a chapter. But Gaz...he will be my one and only cliff-hanger. Not so much the happy ending, but the thing people close the book and remember.
We should all want cliff-hangers. We should all be looking for the people who will still be there at the end of the book, not showing any sign of leaving. Still there on the last page so the reader knows it didn’t really stop – an eternally unconfirmed possibility of more. Those are the love stories people remember, aren’t they? The ones that actually matter for more than just the length of the book itself. I’m not saying everyone in the world is going to write their life around a person, there’ll be plenty of people who will be happy alone, achieve more alone than I ever will with Gaz or Jay will with Howard. If they’re happy they’re happy. But me and Jay, Howard and Gaz...we’re not built that way. We’re built to be happy with others. No, no that’s wrong. We’re built to be happy together. Anyway, all I’m saying is...I just don’t think anyone should be settling for the kind of love that’s only worth a chapter. If it’s just a chapter then let it end, you know? Don’t fucking fight that, have a little faith that your book is going to be more memorable than a page ten ending. You settle for someone who is just a chapter and you might miss a whole solo adventure. You might miss a real romance. I mean, no one should settle for anyone who doesn’t look at them the way Howard looks at Jay. No one should settle for anyone who won’t think every love-song was written about them the way Gaz does about me. Rob won’t settle for anyone who won’t fight with him the way I fought with him, who won’t show kindness to him the way I showed kindness to him. He’s already decided I’m his cliff-hanger. His problem is the cliff has come but he’s still travelling – I will forever be more than a chapter to him though and nothing will change that.
But as it turned out there was more to my ‘not quite’ than I could ever have imagined. It took a matter of months for our lives to be sent hurtling towards a whole new kind of story, not that any of us noticed at the time. If we had known...maybe we would have chosen differently, maybe we would’ve run with even greater urgency in the direction of those microphones that night, maybe we would’ve shied away from them instead. It’s hard to say. Right now, in this moment? I just feel sick. I don’t know why that is though. It could be nerves. Or regret. Or excitement. If you feel like throwing up does that mean it’s just a chapter? Or is it more like a camera-shaped cliff-hanger spanning across four different autobiographies all at once? It’s weird, isn’t it? We thought picking our cast of characters would be the most central thing in all our plots. Not quite true. And not quite an autobiography for any of us just yet.
When I was seventeen I told my twin brother that his girlfriend of two years was cheating on him, because, believe it or not, she was. He chose the not believing me option and told me I was jealous. Which, in hindsight, couldn’t have been further from the truth. But in his defence, he didn’t have the benefit of hindsight and he didn’t want to believe what I was telling him. He didn’t speak to me for two weeks after that. Our poor mum thought she was living in a war zone: coz ‘not speaking’ loosely translates as ‘speaking just as much but with greater volume’ to two twin brothers at the age of seventeen. And then he caught her at it. And he wouldn’t let anyone but me comfort him over it. Coz everyone else had lied to him and fobbed him off when he’d asked. I was the only one who’d been honest with him so I was the only one he trusted.
Anyway, my point is, I’ve always believed in honesty. And I don’t mean that in the trite fucking ‘honesty is the best policy’ way. I just mean, people appreciate it when you’re honest with them. About who you are, who they are, about what ‘s happening in any given situation. I’ve always believed in that. Lying to someone is just...patronising them. It’s presuming that they will be better off not knowing, as if they don’t realise somewhere deep down that something isn’t right. I’ll grant you, I’m not always good at sticking to my own belief on this. When something is wrong with me, my first instinct is to lie and say I’m ok. But I don’t try and hide from the people who will see past that lie. Which to me is as good as telling the truth. And I’ve always, always, been that way. Honesty is a big part of who I am, a big part of why I make the choices in life I make. It’s pretty much the thing that defines me, as dramatic as that sounds. It is though. It’s part of what’s gotten me here.
I know it seems like I didn’t marry the most honest man in the world. And yeah, Howard isn’t always good at being forthcoming with the truth. He’s had his moments, his lies. They’ve been the things that have come closest to breaking the two of us apart. But in my heart of hearts I know he’s honest in the way that matters to me most: he’s honest about who he is. He doesn’t pretend to be ok with everything all the time or to have the cleanest mouth, the best way with words, even the best habits. He lies because he’s shy and because he never thinks he’s good enough. And...I can identify with that. He’s honest with me, mostly. He knows he can’t hide from me, just like I know I can’t hide from him. Honesty is inevitable between the two of us because we know each other so well. And also because he knows, has learnt the hard way, exactly how important honesty is to me.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not socially inept with it. I know you don’t go round telling your self-conscious sister that her new haircut is God-awful, I know white lies are...needed, sometimes. I use them myself, it’s a part of me to try and charm people, even when I have no intention of ever seeing them again, it doesn’t hurt anyone, occasionally it even makes people smile, which is always my intention. I am so aware of a lie’s ability to make someone smile that I even spent three weeks lying through my teeth to my husband. I lied to him, I even got his own daughter to lie to him, Monika was trying her best to lie to him, but, bless her, she struggled as much as I did. The three of us kept each other strong and we lied our way through it. And the grin on Howard’s face when we surprised him? It was definitely worth it. He assures me it was his best birthday present ever. Which I was glad of, coz I’ve still got that fucking apartment hanging over my head.
But this past year has really made me question it. The honesty thing. Because I was honest to Gaz and Mark. And look how that ended up. I was honest with them and...you know...I tried not to be. For a long time I tried not to be. Because, for all that I believe in honesty, I still know how destructive it can be. I know it’s rarely what people want to hear. I fucking hated it when my brother wouldn’t talk to me. And yet that was nothing compared to what this one little truth did. And it was the truth, I’m not questioning that. I’m just questioning if that was the turning point. If it’s my fault what happened, if this whole year is my fault. It affected all of us, as it turned out. Gaz, Howard and me – our entire lives have shifted since then, be that for good or bad, I don’t really know yet. And then there’s Mark. Mark...well, he was in New York last time I heard. I don’t know what city he’s moved on to by now. None of us have heard from him since a month after he first left. But I presume his life has changed, because when you’re living in a suitcase nothing is ever the same for long. So now...well now it’s all so different now to what it was, and I’ve lost track of what is just part of life and what is something we should’ve tried to stop.
The thing I try and remind myself of is that Mark and Gary were already messed up before I told them they were. They didn’t become a mess because I said the words. I just speeded up a process. And it needed speeding up, didn’t it? Coz it would have destroyed them if it had just been dragged out. As it was, they were apart but...there was at least an understanding there instead of just a wreck. I know love is a war. I know that. Of all people I should: I’m the one who has shouting matches with his husband that get so loud your throat would get hoarse just listening to us. Not often mind, our relationship is so far from fucked up that our mates tend to wish we would fight just to stop the sickly sweetness. But when we fight we have it out because we have to in order to move on, to find a way around whatever it is life is trying to drive between us. I love Howard. I love Howard like gravity loves pulling things back down to earth. Monika rolls her eyes at us sometimes and calls it ‘an affliction’, which it is, I suppose. It’s something I can’t get away from. It’s something that has changed me, as much as I would like to say it hasn’t. I’d like to say you don’t have to change, to grow up, in order to survive love but if I did that would be a lie. And I have changed and grown and...I’m not entirely sure what to make of that sometimes. I’m not sure I like it, if I’m honest. But life versus love just keeps on coming and I don’t have time to dwell on it, I don’t let there be time to dwell on it.
I like to think that every battle love does against life makes it stronger, if it’s real anyway. And if you’re grown up enough to cope with that then you won’t break it, that thing you have. I cling onto that fact a lot these days. I’m fighting my own battle here. God knows if I’m winning or not. Probably not right now.
Chapter One
Barlow’s Music Shop was one of those establishments that, when mentioned to certain people who knew Manchester well enough, could provoke a fond smile and an ‘Ohhh, Barlow’s? Yes, I know it.’ The charm of the place was never quite defined by any of its admirers. Some tried to put it down to the character of the building, but anyone who’d been around the area long enough knew that couldn’t be the case, because in the building’s previous incarnations, as a second-hand bookshop followed by an antiques shop and then, in turn, another bookshop, it had never possessed quite the same life that it did once the red and gold Barlow’s sign had been installed. The place’s only real claim to fame was a one-sentence mention in a shopping guide to Manchester, and yet, somehow, the place always had to be remarked upon whenever Oldham Street came up in conversation. Those who knew it well enough could tell you a great many stories. They could tell you, for example, about Barlow’s grand opening; the new owner, Barlow himself no less, had made tea for those who actually turned up and promised each one of them that, if they came back, he would always make them a brew...he’d been true to his word and then some. Others could tell you about the day their charming shop assistant first arrived; he had sat himself up on the shop’s counter, taught the bored children of the bike shop’s owner how to breakdance and (accidentally) made the girl from the charity shop fall in love with him. But the story most widely told? The one where everything changed. Maybe not everything, but something did. Something important, something no one was really able to identify but everyone felt the moment they stepped through the shop’s door. The bell would still ring and a thin layer of dust would still be disturbed from its resting place atop the instruments. But the building didn’t smile or hum the way it used to. Despite the owner’s endless warmth and Northern charm, a hush had descended upon the place. The only thing Oldham Street had ever had to prove that the world was not going to the dogs was dwindling quietly, sustained only by lingering traces of the dazzling energy it had once been filled with.
There was no loss of fondness. And no loss of belonging, to those who felt it was where they belonged anyway. There was, perhaps, a little more dust and maybe there were fewer pianos, but the floorboards still creaked and the kettle still worked and, for Gary Barlow at least, that seemed to be enough to be at home there. More at home, in many ways, than he felt anywhere else. He knew it was different, as any good shop-owner should, but he had developed a resilience over the years, so he simply made his tea, sat down at his piano and got on with his life. But he’d been getting on with his life for a year now, and, as snow descended upon Manchester, the strain was beginning to show slightly. No man should be in his shop on boxing day, staring into a back-room fridge, this much Gary knew. But still he stared.
The fridge was a lot emptier without the neat stacks of organic yoghurt it used to house, Gary noted as he pulled out the milk. He lingered on the thought a moment, aware for the first time in over a year that it actually unsettled him having such an empty fridge. Blinking slightly he shook his head. Christmas was a time of year that could mess with anyone’s head. He’d been doing so well before winter came along, so very well. Things hadn’t been the same but they hadn’t been all that bad and in many ways he felt he was doing better than he had in years. He wasn’t the arrogant little git he had been in his youth, much to his relief. But, reassuringly, he was no longer the self-pitying wreck he had become in later years. And he was having fewer bouts of either extreme – because, he had to admit, those traits in him flared up from time to time. With a sigh he poured the milk into his tea. He shouldn’t be here today, it was messing with his head. He was fine here normally, but being here at this time of year only served to remind him of how much had changed.
Replacing the milk on his way, he returned to the piano room, blowing tentatively on his tea. No biscuit today – one advantage of being alone over Christmas was that he didn’t have to break his diet, which he was doing rather well on, even if he did say so himself. He sat himself down at the baby-grand; the only piano that he still refused to sell. She’d been with him since he’d started this place and it would take all kinds of hell being brought upon him to convince him to part with her. He patted her fondly, gratefully, as he sipped his tea. The sun was just setting and an amber glow made its way between the snowflakes outside, falling across the shop floor and just touching Gary’s face as he turned on his piano stool.
He noticed it before his phone rang; something somewhere in the shop seemed to jump slightly, stirring with sleepy anticipation. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach too. His mobile was only forced to ring twice before he had whipped it from his pocket to examine the name lit up on the screen. He smiled.
“Jason Orange, as I live and breathe. I didn’t think you knew how to use a phone,” Gary’s tone was warmly mocking. The whole building strained to listen in on the conversation.
“I’ll hang up on you if you keep on giving me stick like this, I have my own life to live you know,” Jason’s voice was crackly and edged with bitten-back laughter.
“Hark at you! A Christmas card too much to ask was it?” Gary remarked. The pause told him Jason felt genuine guilt at the lack of an exchange of presents and cards this year.
“Howard’s busiest time of year this, I can’t be everywhere at once,” was the eventual reply. Gary would perhaps, in person, have been able to identify the slightly forced lightness in Jason’s words. But if he noticed it over the phone he said nothing.
“That where you were yesterday?” he asked with genuine interest.
“It was go with him or spend Christmas without him. My mum is furious with him for it all,” Jason admitted, this time a small smile was detectable in his voice.
“I don’t know how you’re coping Jay. Christmas isn’t Christmas without family, a bit of pudding and some bad telly,” Gary replied.
“What about your diet?” Jason questioned, his tone lightly teasing.
“Eh! I’m still on it! Just had a day off yesterday for the sake of my mum’s cooking. But seriously Jay, you are finding time to eat and sleep and...survive, aren’t you? I don’t want to sound like your mother here, but...” Gary pressed.
“I’m eating. And...sleeping sometimes...” Jason interrupted quietly. Gary nodded slowly.
“If you say so. Anyway, to what do I owe this honour?” he asked after a moment.
“You’re still my best mate Gaz. And it’s still sort-of Christmas. I just wanted to make sure you were ok,” Jason told him and Gary smiled.
“Check up on me more like!” he laughed.
“Well...you know...with Mark and...and me and Howard and...the time of year...” Jason trailed off.
“I’m fine Jay. Better for talking to you though – you’re still my best mate too, in case you were wondering,” Gary reassured him.
“Thanks Gaz. I should really get going again but...call me sometime? I really do miss us talking, you know?” Jason sighed.
“I know. Thanks for the call. Talk soon Jay,” Gary agreed quietly.
“Talk soon Gaz,” Jason responded, and with a click, he was gone. Gary could almost feel the building sag around him.
It took him a while to pull round after that. He knew he needed to go home. He knew that he needed to leave the shop. It was boxing day, he should be off somewhere having fun. But boxing day had always been reserved for himself and Jason. Mark and Howard too, in later years, but it had always been a time for friends. Dawn had invited him to spend the day with her, but he didn’t want to stand around awkwardly at a party full of her dancer friends – it was the sort of environment Jason might flourish in but Gary had altogether more relaxing ideas for how to spend holidays, mostly involving roaring fires and comfy sofas with blankets and, yes, pudding. Quite how he had translated that into a trip to check up on the shop he didn’t know. But it was strangely pleasant to be somewhere that held so many good memories and he savoured it. It was with mild sadness that he locked it behind him and walked back to his car. He had an errand to run before home, he reminded himself as he blew on his hands and dashed across the road.
The drive to Jason’s apartment was a slow one – the snowfall was heavy and the city was swamped with football traffic from the boxing day games that had taken place. Gary tapped on the steering wheel as the radio murmured away to itself. The news was being read out but Gary was uninterested, preoccupied with half an idea for a tune which he had stuck in his head. He should write it, he would write it...if he could only get a better grasp of it.
The traffic finally began to move a little more freely as he got further away from town and, reluctantly, he found himself pulling his head back, forcing himself to concentrate. Hearing from Jason had put him in an odd mood. He wasn’t sad, not exactly. But there was something he couldn’t shake that was close to sadness. The best word he could find for it was nostalgia. Nostalgia, or some form of it, had taken hold of him and changed his entire thought pattern for the day. Maybe talking to Jason had just been that bit too much of a reminder of all the things that were different now, something Gary was actually quite good at ignoring normally. Even Mark’s absence could be put aside, when Gary wanted it to be. And for a while he had wanted it to be, because putting it aside allowed him to concentrate on his own shortcomings, to try harder at being the person he wanted to be without the distraction of anyone else’s problems to hinder his progress. But it had been more than a year now. Jason’s faraway voice on the phone, Mark’s absence from the shop...it had been different before but was now becoming the same. In fact, it dawned on Gary with the softness of a snowflake melting on a fingertip, that was the problem. These things that had been so different and so far from what he was used to were the exact same things he had finally started taking for granted. He had never wanted – or expected – that to happen. With a shake of his head he turned off in the direction of Salford and tried to forget he’d ever realised it at all. But it is impossible to un-melt a snowflake.
Whatever will be will be, I suppose. Whatever happens just...happens. I can’t dictate what I want to be normal in my life, the only thing I can dictate is how I deal with it. And I will deal with it. And without the help of biscuits.
It had gone dark by the time he pulled up outside Jason’s apartment building, but there was still a steady fall of snow coming down. Gary muttered lightly to himself about cleaning windscreens and Manchester weather – he wasn’t really from this city, he was from near this city, he had every right to talk about it like some foreign country – before pulling his scarf a little tighter around him and opening the car door. A snowflake immediately whipped into his eye and he wondered why he’d ever left the comfort of his shop. Or indeed the warmth of his flat.
The glass windows of the apartment building were almost invisible in the dark but for the slight snow outline and the odd dim glow from inside one or two and as Gary peered up he realised Jason’s top-floor apartment was almost out of sight entirely...and yet, he was used to that now too. Something else that had once seemed so strange to him slowly becoming a fact of life. He let out a frustrated sigh, frustrated with himself more than anything, because he shouldn’t let himself dwell on any of these things, then pressed on with his mission.
The floor of the communal entryway was smeared with sludgy grey snow and Gary picked his way around it cautiously, distrusting of the combination of such slush with smooth flooring. The lift was probably the most sensible option, he surmised, casting a nervous glance at the stairs.
“Death-trap in this weather,” Gary mused to no one at all as he pressed the button for the lift.
Sifting through someone else’s mail was still something of a thrill to Gary’s mind. He entertained ideas of discovering Jason’s double-life, Howard’s secret Brazilian wife and three kids, some dark Orange family secret being divulged on the back of a postcard from Madagascar or Peru. But all he usually found were letters from distant cousins who never got Jason’s notes about the change of address, old bills in Howard’s name, junk mail for the two of them to share out equally. The most exciting things he had come across were the stray Christmas cards that had begun to arrive at the end of November. He only had to forward the important things but, for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, Gary had forwarded all those cards. Knowing Jason as he did he was sure the home-comfort would be something he would appreciate. Gary glanced at today’s haul; a catalogue addressed to Howard, a letter addressed to Jason and one more card addressed to both of them. Considering Gary hadn’t stopped by since mid-December, the collection was almost disappointing. Gary frowned slightly; maybe the abnormal was becoming normal to everyone these days and they were actually sending their mail to the correct address.
Stepping back into the lift he wondered what would happen to the glassy apartment and the belongings still left in it. Jason wouldn’t say, Howard knew the choice was not really his to make and Gary wouldn’t push it with either of them. He’d been given a key, told he could even spend time there if he liked. But it would feel odd to be in there without them; the place had belonged to them even before it had been theirs, Gary felt that although he couldn’t explain why. Besides, if he was honest, those big windows gave him vertigo when he stood too close. He didn’t know how Jason coped – he never professed to be a fan of heights and he hated flying and yet every day he woke up amidst the Manchester clouds. Or at least, he had done.
The lift stopped and Gary looked up in confusion, because it usually took forever to reach the ground after visiting Jason’s. Not the ground floor. A smiling face beamed back at him as the doors opened and the faintest jangle of earrings and bangles shimmered through the winter air.
“Hello Gary! Not seen your face here in a while; discovered Jason’s a cross-dressing spy from Alaska yet?” Amelia Davies’ feathery voice asked him as she stepped into the lift. He wondered why he had told her of his imaginings, he felt sure she was probably telling people at parties and they were all laughing at him behind his back.
‘I met this delightful madman today’ – she’ll say that, I bet. ‘Lovely fellow but, you won’t believe this, he thinks his best friend’s leading a double life! Comes now and then, checks his mail and mutters under his breath about spies and secret children. Oh Jason, darling, please stay in hiding a little longer sweetie, I so want to hear what he’ll say next.’ Although, you know what really is mad? That I think any of this at all. And why, in my head, is Jason in on this joke? He loves to tease but the man doesn’t have a cruel bone in his body.
“Sadly it’s all still duller than dishwater, Amelia. Jay is really no fun at all – he’s just good at making everyone think he is,” Gary smiled and Amelia laughed, shaking her head with another clack of her earrings. Her wild curls fell in her face and she looked so genuine that Gary almost felt bad for suspecting her of conspiracy at all.
Howard, on the other hand, he wouldn’t be above it would he? This is all a set-up by Howard. Yes, I can live with that.
“Oh don’t spoil the illusion! He’s such a dazzler Gary, I couldn’t ever imagine him boring me. I’ve lived in places like this all my life and never given a second thought to my neighbours...then I move into this place and see him coming up the stairs, I knew I’d picked the right place!” Amelia beamed.
“Until he moved out on you,” Gary pointed out quietly, more for his own benefit than hers.
“Yes, until then. I miss him and Howard, is that silly? I hardly saw them and I miss them,” she sighed back, just as the bell sounded for the lift’s safe arrival on the ground floor.
“See you later Amelia,” Gary smiled politely as he began to walk away.
“See you Gary, enjoy what’s left of the winter break! Oh! And tell those friends of yours to come back, would you? It’s not right them being gone,” she called after him.
Well, she said it not me.
Climbing back into the car it was time for the journey home. Home. It was a different home now, different to the one it had been before Jason and Howard had gone. He wasn’t sure why he’d moved, he’d just felt the time was right. Jason had helped him, as best he could. Gary sent him pictures of the flats he viewed and Jason offered what advice he could come up with. Which Gary had found more helpful than he’d been willing to admit. Until Jason had found his dream apartment in Salford he had spent a lot of his time moving from place to place and he knew all the right questions to ask estate agents. Something Gary had to acknowledge being hopeless at. In the end it was a recommendation from one of Jason’s siblings (a step-sibling, to be precise) that had brought Gary to his new home. Somewhere not too far away from the shop but not unbearably close to town, somewhere not quite as sleek as Jason and Howard’s apartment complex but not quite as run-down as his old flat. It was perfect really, he supposed, though there were things – there were people – he needed to complete it, if he was forced to be honest. Jason had managed to find the time to come back and help him move in, helping him pack things Mark had left behind and trying to prevent any breakdowns on Gary’s part. Gary was amazed to find, however, that he hadn’t even come close to a breakdown and Jason had smiled and told him that was more like the Gaz he knew; stronger, more solid...or rather...less emotionally turbulent. Mark’s things were now all stored in the tiny attic-space above the flat, waiting for him, just in case he hadn’t dropped off the face of the earth (although it rather seemed he had.) With much effort and a couple of emergency calls to burly family-friends of Jason’s, Gary’s small piano and large keyboards had been heaved up the stairs and squeezed into the spare room and, slowly but surely, the place had begun to look a lot more like somewhere Gary belonged. Eventually Jason left again and Gary, though sad to see him go, found that he was, dare he say it, feeling almost like he was actually content and, even better, in control.
Gary Barlow’s grown up – more streamlined, more stable. Everyone else’s rock! Not a git. Not a...a...crying...biscuity....lump. A positive pillar of society now, me! Almost grown up enough to look after Mark...to love Mark...certainly grown up enough to deserve a phone call. Just one would do. To let me know he’s alive. To let me know if he’s smiling properly again.
Chapter Two
The quiet twinkle of winter lights flickered with increasing brightness into the sharp night air as another fall of snow drifted in on the wind. There was a mist of light that hovered around the glassy buildings which streamed purple and amber lights back out in defence whilst smaller buildings clustered in glimmering groups below. Most streets were quiet – and icy – but the concentration of people got greater where the most lights were shimmering. The train station was cold and quiet, though large trains were still arriving carrying passengers from across Europe, bundled up against the dropping temperatures as they spilled out onto the platforms. What little traffic there was came largely from the airport and a few tired-looking taxi drivers lingered at the taxi-ranks, waiting to ferry people to Christmas parties and snowball fights at the expense of their own festive plans. For those lucky enough to live close to town, this was all visible from a top-floor window; all the glitter of venturing out without the freezing temperatures.
Their flat was one of the closer ones; the price they paid was a lack of space and more substantial rent but, as it saved a great deal of walking time, no one complained. It had been made as cosy as possible; a few potted plants adorned the windowsill, a few photographs were scattered at random in available spaces, a large throw cover decorated the sofa and the smells that often came from the kitchen late at night were tooth-achingly sweet. A television was blaring in the corner, loud, barked phrases that Jason didn’t understand but, nevertheless, paid attention to. Howard’s belongings were strewn across the coffee table, his bags standing in the hallway. Howard himself was tangled in a mixture of Jason’s limbs and the throw cover, watching Jason quietly as Jason watched the TV.
“I wish they didn’t speak so much German,” Jason mused softly, moving his head slightly so it was resting on Howard’s shoulder. Howard laughed and kissed Jason’s forehead.
“They probably wish you didn’t speak so much English,” he pointed out gently but Jason simply pulled a face.
“I don’t understand what they’re even trying to do,” he frowned, gesturing vaguely at the programme that was on as Monika entered the room behind them. She glanced at the screen.
“He’s trying to win some money I think – what programme is this?” she asked him.
“Don’t ask me!” Jason laughed.
“He’s trying to win some money, they’re always trying to win money on programmes like this,” she shrugged, disappearing towards the kitchen.
“There, are you happy now? Even the Germans don’t know what’s happening,” Howard smiled.
“They need to get some proper telly,” Jason grumbled softly but Howard simply wrapped his arms around him tighter and pulled him further down on the sofa. Monika shouted something back at Jason from the kitchen by way of retort and Howard grinned.
“You’re wasting your breath, he can’t understand you remember?” Howard told her blithely when she appeared in the doorway just as Jason slid down onto his chest and closed his eyes.
“Well in that case, I’ll just have to shout at you instead,” she beamed and Howard groaned.
“I only know enough to get around, Crystal started tearing her hair out when we got past the basics,” he insisted.
“Go on, translate,” Monika suggested with genuine interest, causing Jason to sit up and grin.
“Yeah, come on, translate,” he challenged. Howard thought a moment.
“Jason, beautiful Jason, to whom Germany is forever indebted, I apologise for my country’s severe bad manners. We must write to the appropriate authorities and alert them to your discontent immediately, your happiness is paramount to us all,” Howard reeled off, in as authoritative a voice as he could muster. Jason laughed quietly into Howard’s hoody and Monika smothered a smile.
“How did he do?” Jason asked her after a moment.
“Word perfect,” Monika nodded jokingly, turning on her heel and heading back towards her room.
As Monika disappeared from sight, Jason curled up tighter in Howard’s embrace and suddenly he looked very lost. He did to Howard anyway, because Howard knew him well enough to know these things. His blue eyes were narrowed slightly as he regarded the screen and Howard could see the thoughts dancing across them.
I brought him here.
Jason seemed to sense his gaze and he shifted against Howard slightly, looking up into his eyes and smiling faintly.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. Howard had been close to asking Jason the same question, but trying to answer it for himself was difficult. He wasn’t sure, he wasn’t even sure if anything was wrong. He didn’t feel like going to work tonight, but that was nothing new. It was something both he and Jason had silently acknowledged. Even Monika seemed to be in on their unspoken pact.
“Nothing. I just never enjoy leaving,” Howard explained with a heavy-hearted smile.
“Really? Coz you know, I just relish it when you leave,” Jason retorted with a roll of his eyes, his tease edged with only a little sadness.
“Come here,” Howard sighed, pulling Jason up until their faces were level. Jason’s blue eyes tried to look away from Howard’s but it was impossible this close. Howard kissed him, softly and only once, on the lips and put a hand to his cheek.
“What?” Jason said, almost pouting, his words huffed lightly.
“Love, please...” Howard almost laughed, trying to coax Jason back from the brink of a somewhat childish sulk. He could see something in Jason’s eyes flicker mischievously, as though daring him to try and salvage things.
“What?” Jason repeated, his voice a little softer this time, his eyes narrowed just slightly.
“Jason Thomas Orange will you stop fighting me and just listen?” Howard laughed.
“Only when you stop talking to me like my mother,” Jason challenged, almost breaking into a smile.
“Ok then; oi, gorgeous, will you stop glowering at the telly long enough to kiss my fucking face off,” Howard shot back. Jason’s expression wavered once more but he held firm.
“Your fucking face?” he questioned with emphasised scepticism.
“You heard me,” Howard stated simply. That was enough for Jason and he laughed softly, rolling his eyes. He pushed himself up on Howard’s chest, kneeling up to straddle his stomach and putting his hands gently either side of his face. Their eyes met and Jason smiled a faraway smile.
“Your fucking face it is then,” he sighed before bending down and capturing Howard’s lips with his own. Howard grinned into the kiss, closing his eyes and putting his hands on Jason’s hips, his thumbs hooking just beneath Jason’s shirt to stroke his skin slowly. Jason responded by deepening the kiss and Howard could feel Jason’s smile against his own. As they finally parted their eyes met and Howard sat up a little, propping himself up on his elbows, Jason’s hands still holding his face.
“You do realise, that’s exactly the reason why I’m going to be coming back as soon as I can, don’t you?” he asked and Jason rolled his eyes with reluctant playfulness.
“You only want me for my body,” he dismissed Howard softly, his eyes turning downwards. Howard reached up and touched his chin once and Jason’s gaze returned to his immediately.
“Hey, I mean it! Stop being a daft git; I love you,” Howard reminded him and Jason smiled a small smile, bending down to kiss Howard’s nose.
“Yeah well, you stop being a daft git that’s leaving me all the time,” he countered.
“Or how about ‘I love you too’?” Howard tried.
“Maybe,” Jason shrugged.
“I’ll take what I can get I think,” Howard smirked.
“You will and you’ll like it!” Jason added, the light suddenly back in his face. Howard chuckled, grabbing Jason’s shirt and pulling his lips back to his own.
“Er, not on my sofa thank you!” Monika’s voice interrupted and Jason laughed into Howard’s kiss.
“Fuck off,” Howard groaned at her and Monika laughed at him.
“How about no, Prince Charming? Goodness me, it’s like living with two teenagers,” she sighed.
“Excuse me! One teenager and one live-in maid!” Jason protested, gesturing at the immaculate flat.
“Agreed,” Monika nodded, winking at Jason.
“Sorry love,” Jason laughed at his pouting husband.
“I’m used to it,” Howard mumbled, pulling Jason slowly back towards him. Jason smiled at him, giving him a small kiss on the lips.
“I don’t want to spoil the moment boys but; have either of you seen my waistcoat?” Monika asked as Jason sat up again. Howard simply shrugged but Jason turned round, frowning slightly.
“Isn’t it on the back of your door? Hanging up? I ironed it for you...” he said and Monika blinked at him for a moment before turning around and disappearing once more.
“What’s happening? Why am I not being kissed?” Howard moaned from the sofa and Jason waved him away affectionately, still looking with concern in Monika’s direction. Shortly she reappeared, waistcoat in hand.
“Jay, you are a saint! Honestly, I think I should be paying you rent not the other way around!” she breathed warmly, slipping it on and fixing her name badge in place. Jason simply laughed before turning his head slightly and pointing to his cheek. Monika shook her head affectionately, coming over to the sofa and giving him a peck on the cheek.
“Thank you,” Jason nodded. Howard sat up and cleared his throat pointedly and Monika laughed, bending down to give him a kiss on the cheek too.
“You don’t deserve that, I’m sure you were of very little help,” she told him.
“I keep him happy and when he’s happy, he irons! I’m very deserving really,” Howard protested.
“Actually, you keep clubbers up and down Europe happy and leave me to fend for myself!” Jason interjected. Monika simply walked away from them, knowing better than to get involved.
“Jay I thought we’d been through this,” Howard groaned.
“I know, I know; you don’t want to go. Come on, one more kiss then I have to get ready for work,” Jason sighed and Howard obliged, pulling Jason into one last long kiss before letting him leave the sofa.
Maybe I shouldn’t have let go. Maybe he would rather I’d held on.
“Tie?” Monika called hopefully from her room as Jason passed by the open door.
“Didn’t touch it sorry,” Jason called back without stopping, leaning into his and Howard’s room and grabbing his own waistcoat from the bed.
“I’m going to get fired,” Monika lamented and Jason laughed as he pulled his waistcoat on.
“You say that every night,” he reminded her, heading back towards the lounge. He perched himself on the arm of the sofa, next to Howard’s head, and looked down at his still-sulking husband.
“Come on, make yourself useful and do my tie for me,” Jason said. Howard couldn’t help smiling slightly at that. He liked doing up Jason’s bowtie before work, for reasons he was incapable of explaining. Of course, he much preferred undoing it, but his opportunities to do that had been rare at best recently.
Things had been different. Why that was or when it had happened Howard wasn’t sure. At first he had put it down to the phone call with Gary – Jason had been off-balance ever since – but when he really thought about it he was sure that it had been going on for longer than that. An atmosphere always descended upon them when he had to go away, and given his busy schedule over the party season he half suspected that whatever was wrong with them had something to do with sleep deprivation. He studied Jason’s face as he slowly tied his tie.
Tired and lost and...thin? Maybe a little thin. Pale. Yes, pale.
Jason smiled up at him quietly, standing and giving him a small kiss on the cheek. He hooked his arms around Howard’s neck and laid his head against his chest. Howard pulled him as close as he could and they stood, holding each other in silence, snatching the rare moment of stillness together. Reluctantly Jason stepped back, reaching past Howard to pick up his name badge from the coffee table. He offered it to Howard and Howard laughed slightly before fixing it in place for him.
“What happened to the capable, independent man I married?” he chuckled.
“He submitted himself to you I think,” Jason remarked slightly distantly and Howard met his eyes.
“Jason Orange you almost sound like you’re going to miss me,” Howard sighed.
“I am,” Jason murmured. Howard looked at his face again.
Tired and lost. Maybe thin, definitely pale. Disappointed? Sad? I know, or I used to know, how to change that expression. How to turn it into something better, something more...more him. But tonight I’m too tired and too lost myself and that fucking hurts.
Howard pressed a kiss to Jason’s forehead, his hand squeezing Jason’s upper arm in a gesture of comfort before he turned from the embrace and went off in search of last-minute additions to his packing, passing Monika on the way. She looked back at him then turned and watched Jason, still standing where he had been before, a world away somewhere inside his own head. She took a step closer to him but he didn’t move, his eyes down on his hands, his fingers clasping and unclasping. The closer it got to time for Howard to go, the more Jason’s moods shifted. One moment he was all flirtation and attachment, putting every negative emotion aside so as to properly enjoy the time he snatched with Howard. Then moments later he was back to this again; not quite himself. She knew things, noticed things, that he and Howard probably didn’t. She noted it all down and, although she tried not to interfere, she tried to help. Jason was easier because Jason was around, Howard was hardly in the door before he was straight back out again. Part of her wanted to lock them both in and force them to see all the same things she saw. But another part of her realised that this was her home and locking herself out in the freezing Frankfurt weather was not really a good plan.
“I know what it’s like you know...being a long way from home,” she tried gently and Jason smiled, turning around slowly to look at her.
“It’s not that far,” he shrugged, flashing her one of his more dazzling smiles. But she wasn’t fooled; the smile was so far from reaching his eyes that, if pressed, she would judge it had barely reached his lips. But she nodded.
“True. And you’re in the best country in the world, so you’re getting a good deal,” she smiled back.
“The best?” Jason asked, raising an eyebrow, and Monika’s smile broadened.
“We’re both dressed for work now; I am officially your boss,” she reminded him.
“Ah. Well in that case, yes. My home country? Got nothing on yours,” he smirked.
“Good, just checking,” she replied, giving him a quick conspiratorial wink.
“Jay do you know where my phone charger is?” Howard’s voice echoed through the flat, interrupting the moment. Jason shook his head in despair, collapsing back down onto the sofa.
“Probably under the bed somewhere if you had it last,” Jason called back with a roll of his eyes and Monika laughed at him, shaking her head.
“Where would he be without you?” she said and Jason smiled tiredly.
“Still here. Just...without his phone charger,” he sighed. Monika pursed her lips at that but said nothing, instead she turned towards the kitchen.
“I’m going to make myself a quick sandwich before work, you want me to get you one?” she asked him but Jason shook his head.
“Not hungry, but thank you,” Jason replied. She nodded slowly and walked away.
Ten minutes later, with Jason and Howard once more locked in a silent embrace as Monika sat awkwardly on the sofa eating her sandwich, the flat’s intercom buzzed and Monika was quick to jump up, glad of the distraction. Jason and Howard both turned as she pressed the button, a growly German voice crackling over the speaker. The voice barked something at Monika and Monika gave as good as she got, some sort of bargain in rushed German ensuing that Howard couldn’t follow and Jason didn’t try to.
“Sorry Howard but that’s your taxi driver. You’ve got five more minutes before he drives off without you...oh, and I think he hates foreigners so...try and act local!” Monika informed them as the voice finally stopped. Howard groaned and leant his forehead to Jason’s but Jason smiled mischievously.
“So you’re saying if I keep Howard kissing me for six minutes, he’ll have no taxi to the airport?” he asked and Monika smiled at him.
“Pretty much – but six minutes? That would be a record even for you pair,” she remarked.
“I bet you I could keep Howard kissing me for six minutes, the man’s easy,” Jason laughed.
“Er, still in the room! And I’m not easy!” Howard sulked causing Monika to stifle a smirk.
“Not easy?!” she half-spluttered and Jason looked up at Howard with glittering eyes.
“You are so easy,” he assured his husband, pressing a single kiss to his lips.
“When it comes to you maybe,” Howard conceded reluctantly.
“Three minutes,” Monika cut in.
“You’re really leaving me then?” Jason asked Howard. Howard sighed and cupped Jason’s cheek in his hand.
“Leaving you? No. Going to work? Yes,” he murmured, kissing Jason’s forehead.
“I love you,” Jason told him.
“I’ll miss you,” Howard assured him quietly. They held the gaze a moment longer, then, with Jason giving Howard’s palm a parting kiss, Howard took a step back, gathering up his luggage and leaving the flat, trying not to look at Jason as he went.
It was a whole minute after Howard had gone before Jason moved, turning slowly and looking at the closed door.
“You know, I can’t keep doing this...” he whispered. Monika’s brow creased in concern.
“Jay...” she began but Jason was already taking a step towards the door.
“I’ve got to go,” he said hurriedly but Monika folded her arms.
“Leaving me on my own?! I thought you were a gentleman! Anyway, where are you going exactly?” she challenged. Jason paused, his shoulders slowly sagging and the urgency ebbing out of him.
“To burn down the airport?” he suggested, all the fight now gone from his voice.
“Without a coat on? No way,” Monika insisted and Jason couldn’t help but laugh.
“Yeah, coz that’s the biggest flaw in my plan,” he smiled lopsidedly, rubbing a hand over his face. Monika watched him carefully before offering out her arms.
“Hug?” she suggested and Jason smiled.
“Oh definitely a hug,” he agreed, his longer arms completely engulfing her. She gave him a gentle squeeze then pulled back.
“Come on, work will take your mind off it,” she said, turning to grab their coats and scarves before shepherding him out of the door.
Chapter Three
The sun was low in the sky and the whole house was still beneath a blanket of amber. There was a peace – to this part of the country and to this time of the morning – that he enjoyed. Manchester wasn’t like this, everything was bigger there, more hectic. From the bedroom window he could see the frost-edged fields that stretched down to the stadium, where stewards in their florescent jackets could already be seen, spreading grit and shovelling snow, as the incinerator churned out smoke into the morning air. It was a nice view, in its own way. He supposed some people objected to the incinerator, he knew his housemate was far more scathing of the clear view to the stadium than anything else. But Mark liked it. He liked to watch the people walking across the fields whenever there was a game – he was going to miss that today. With a small sigh he turned his eyes back down to his boots, tugging at the laces once more. He rethreaded them and began to pull them back into shape, a lock of chestnut hair falling across his face just as a soft knock came on the door.
“Brew,” a muffled voice followed up before the door was opened and Mark looked up with a bright smile as Robbie came into the room.
“Morning Rob,” he said, taking the mug into his hands and blowing on it.
“Morning Markie, how’s the packing going?” Robbie sighed, his eyes not on Mark but on the scene outside. Mark laughed softly and shook his head.
“Are you glaring at those stewards?” he chuckled, taking a sip of his tea and looking up at Robbie.
“I can’t help it Markie, that’s enemy territory that,” Robbie smiled.
“Get a different house then,” Mark shrugged.
“This one’s good for work. Anyway, I thought you were supposed to be leaving today...this room looks like your suitcase just exploded,” Robbie remarked and Mark glanced around.
“It is a bit of a mess I s’pose,” he agreed slowly, running his hand through his hair. Robbie smiled at him and sat down next to him on the bed.
“Don’t want to go?” he asked gently. Mark thought a moment, looking down into his tea.
“I don’t know Rob...it’s just hard, I guess. Going back, seeing people and...admitting you screwed up I guess. I’ve enjoyed it here so much as well...” he admitted quietly.
“Don’t go then,” Robbie suggested and Mark laughed.
“Don’t go?!” he smiled, looking over at Robbie, whose serious expression didn’t alter.
“Why not? Stay here, I don’t mind, as long as you keep chipping in for the extra milk and help me draw the curtains when those flaming Stoke fans come up the paths after they win,” he replied, Mark rolled his eyes fondly, putting his mug down on the floor and returning to lacing up his boot.
“I’ve got to go back Rob, you know I have,” he said quietly and Rob nodded but didn’t reply.
It had been a long time to be away. Longer than Mark had ever imagined it would be. In that time he’d put himself at the mercy of more friends than he could count. He’d visited Emma, gone on holiday with Jamie, lost touch with Jason, gone back to his mum, tired to forget Gary, visited his siblings, remembered Gary, explored the possibilities of the Lake District and then finally, when every other option had been considered, gone to London where he had found, mostly by accident, Robbie Williams, in the process of packing up and heading back to Stoke. Mark had tagged along and, for the past three months, the two of them had worked shifts in a restaurant at Trentham Gardens, having heart-to-heart sessions and watching TV in their spare time. Much tea was consumed and Gary’s name was rarely mentioned. Jason came up in conversation once and Robbie had, to Mark’s surprise, expressed great interest in the story of Jason’s life, which Mark had shared with a smile on his face, something inside him feeling that talking about him was almost as good as getting back in touch with him. But he knew that his time in this house was over; it wasn’t his home, he was just a guest. He had a home somewhere but it wasn’t here.
“He really means a lot to you doesn’t he?” Robbie asked into the stillness.
“I fucked up Rob, I fucked up and I’m never going to be able to just get on with life without explaining it to him. I’ve screwed him and Jay and Howard around so much, I can’t keep doing that to them, especially not him. I have to go back...I owe him that much,” Mark murmured and Robbie nodded once more.
“You want some help packing then?” he offered and Mark smiled.
“Help with packing would be good,” he agreed, taking his mug in his hand once more and drinking down a substantial gulp.
“You sure you’re ready for this?” Robbie pressed, watching him carefully.
“I’ve been a daft bastard...such a daft bastard. After everything? I don’t think it’s about what I want anymore,” Mark replied.
“Ready or not, here you come,” Robbie suggested with a smile.
“Something like that,” Mark chuckled.
A year is a long time. I don’t know if this is the right thing anymore. There’s a million reasons why it could have changed. But I can’t change my mind now.
“What’s this?” Robbie’s voice was strangely soft and Mark looked up. They hadn’t been packing long but they were making good progress, working from opposite ends of the room until they met in the middle, where the suitcase was lying open on the bed. Robbie was in the farthest corner and Mark knelt up to peer across at what he was holding. A picture frame.
“Oh...that’s...that’s me and the lads...” Mark said, looking away slightly guiltily. Robbie was sitting cross-legged on the floor now, the photograph frame in his lap.
“Oh,” he said simply, his voice distant.
“Rob it’s just...it’s just home comfort, you know?” Mark sighed, standing slowly and crossing the room, joining Robbie in the corner before sitting down again. He too stared down at the picture. It was a while since he’d taken the time to actually look at it – the frame had come with him everywhere but, after a certain amount of time away had passed, Mark began to rely on it a lot less. The picture the frame held had long been one of Mark’s favourites. It had been taken on Jason’s birthday, late on in the day when it was only the most important people left at the party. The four of them were stood together, all eyes on Jason. Howard’s face was creased into a self-consciously adoring smile, hands in pockets, his eyes alight with amusement. Mark himself was stood with his back almost entirely to camera, half bent over, his laugh obvious as he tilted his head in profile, hair falling in his face. Gary was next to him, laughing that belly-laugh of his, mouth wide open, eyebrows raised, some conspiratorial look just about to be exchanged with Mark, some witty comment so obviously about to be made. And then there was Jason, looking more carefree than he usually did, champagne flute in one hand, eyes turned in Howard’s direction. He was striking some sort of exaggerated pose – perhaps even dancing, Mark couldn’t remember exactly – and was clearly making fun of himself in that humble way he was so good at, grinning broadly the entire time. Mark couldn’t say what it was he liked so much about the shot – the candidness was something he loved, because it caught them off guard and un-posed (and goodness knows they could be a bunch of posers when they wanted to be) but Mark felt it was more than that.
“I’ve always wanted that,” Robbie’s voice interrupted Mark’s thoughts and almost made him jump.
“What?” Mark frowned and Robbie glanced up at him with a sad smile.
“To be part of a team,” he explained.
Have I really been away so long that I forgot that? What one does affects everyone else, Jay told me that. So then...what did I do to them? God, what have I done...
There was little symmetry or unity or in the picture. In fact, not one of them was touching the other with so much as a fingertip, wide spaces between the four of them as they laughed. Maybe that was why Mark missed it at first. But there was something, some sort of cohesion. They didn’t need to touch for that. And it was so obvious, now Mark thought about it, that they were in their own private universe when they got laughing like that. Would anyone else have understood that Jason wasn’t just some arrogant poser showing off, he was a master of self-deprecation. Would anyone else have had a single notion that the wry remark on the tip of Gary’s tongue was not, in fact, a genuine insult to Jason, but actually teasing routed firmly in admiration? Probably not. But would they guess the four were the closest sort of team there could be? Definitely. That there was immense affection there? Well, that couldn’t be denied. Mark smiled faintly as a vague echo of laughter rung round in his head. There had always been such safety in numbers.
“You look left or right and they’re always there, like a confidence boost, you know? I should’ve...I should’ve missed that more,” Mark sighed. Robbie put the frame down and looked over at Mark.
“Maybe you did, maybe that’s why you brought the picture,” he suggested.
“Maybe,” Mark agreed, uncertain. Robbie looked down then.
“I’ve never really cut it at teams, not in the past anyway. Maybe I’d be ok now, maybe I wouldn’t. But I know I could never do it before. I was too focused on me, you know? I wanted what I wanted for myself and I wanted it right then and there. I wanted recognition for me and that drove me forwards and drove others away,” Robbie was thinking aloud but Mark was used to that. As he listened he couldn’t hold back a fond smile.
“Gaz is a bit like that...sometimes, not always. Jay says he used to be worse. Actually, you know, you two have got a lot in common,” he mused and Robbie laughed slightly in disbelief.
“Me and him?!” he pressed and Mark nodded.
“You both have this fire in your bellies. It’s good, sometimes. But other times you let that be all there is, you forget there’s other people around you getting burnt,” he insisted.
“So we’re both screwed then?” Robbie asked.
“No. You’ve grown up. I think Gaz probably has too. You’re both good people...and all good people are a little bit messed up somewhere. There’s no such thing as a perfect person, we all hurt other people and ourselves and we all make mistakes. It’s how we come out of it that defines us. And Gaz will come out of it shining, I know he will. You too,” Mark promised softly. Robbie smiled a faint smile, his eyes scanning Mark’s face.
“And so will you,” he replied. Mark smiled back at him, offering out his arms. Robbie accepted the gesture and let Mark hook his arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.
By the time Mark was ready to leave Trentham behind, the first fans were beginning to arrive for the boxing day match, walking along the street at the front of the house and turning down a pathway that would take them across the fields. Mark watched them from the window for a little while, not entirely ready to go. He liked it when the crowd started to get thicker, the occasional chant going up and the sound of portable radios being brought out for team news. There was something about the lively debates that drifted up from the street before and after every game that made Mark feel at home. Camaraderie, laughter.
It’s like that at the shop sometimes. Banter and arguments and understanding. Spirited debate, that’s what Gaz calls it.
When he got downstairs he found Robbie attacking a microwaveable meal with a fork, the radio on in the background blasting out a song which Robbie was absently singing along to. Robbie was only freed from his trance when Mark’s voice turned the moment into a duet. As the song came to an end, Mark was standing next to Robbie at the counter and Robbie let out a long sigh, looking at Mark’s packed bags. They both knew it was time for Mark to go, they did. But there were some good memories that had been made in this house and it seemed a shame to be packing them away.
“Friends still?” Mark asked and Robbie smiled a genuine smile.
“Always Markie...I don’t mean to sound like a drama queen but...you’re pretty much all I’ve got,” he replied. Mark looked at him a moment before giving him another hug.
“Come to Manchester sometime,” he offered.
“You definitely setting back up there then?” Robbie asked, his interest real.
“One way or another. I need to be back there – Jay and Howard are still my mates and Gaz...I will always want him in my life, just like I’ll always want you in my life. Besides, I want to work at the caff again, that’s reason to go back if nothing else,” Mark shrugged, looking down at his hands.
“He’s a nutter if he doesn’t at least hear you out Markie,” Robbie said gently, placing a hand on Mark’s shoulder. Mark sighed, slowly meeting his eyes.
“Maybe I was a nutter to go away like I did though,” Mark countered.
“Markie, you couldn’t have kept it up...you need to be a grown up to be in love. Maybe the pair of you weren’t quite grown up enough?” Robbie said. Mark looked up at him in amazement.
“You know Rob, you’re pretty fucking special for someone who thinks he’s so fucking shit,” he smiled. Robbie shrugged and looked away.
“Always been my problem Markie...or one of my problems. I don’t see me the way other people see me. I presume failure all of the time...which for someone who’s always trying to be something more than what he is, is really not a good thing,” he sighed.
“You’re more than what you think you are...and I think that’s a fucking great thing,” Mark told him softly and it was his turn to squeeze Robbie’s arm. There was a pause, a moment of quiet interrupted only by the radio and the sound of two people trying to outdo each other in absurd match predictions outside. As ’10-2’ was declared laughingly in the street, Robbie cleared his throat.
“You’re going to miss your train,” he pointed out to Mark in a strained voice.
“Yeah...and my taxi’s still waiting outside. Stay safe for me Rob, ok?” Mark pleaded and Robbie forced a smile, nodding slowly and looking over at Mark as he picked up his bags.
“I’ll try Markie...say hi to Jason and Howard for me...they were kind to me before...” Robbie murmured and Mark nodded stiffly.
“See you Rob,” he said.
“Bye Markie...good luck working out what happens next,” Robbie called as Mark walked away.
When Mark was stepping off the train at Manchester, the full-time scores were just coming in and Mark listened in as people traded scorelines with each other. Stoke had won – Robbie would be wincing back in Trentham, all the curtains would be closed tonight, with the telly on full volume too, Mark thought with a smile, feeling a wave of nostalgia for his and Robbie’s weekend routines hit him, almost knocking him into someone’s suitcase. One or two early-leavers from the Manchester matches were already starting to arrive on the station’s concourse and Mark slipped quickly in between them, hoping to avoid the crush that would soon descend. Pulling his bags behind him and bobbing up and down, he could just about make out the familiar exit and he headed towards it purposefully. It was only when he got to it that he realised his mistake.
I don’t have a home here anymore...I have a hotel to go to...on the other side of Manchester.
The hotel was not the most glamorous Mark had ever been in, but it was far from the worst. It would get him by until...until what? He had no idea. His life in Manchester hadn’t been put on pause whilst he’d gone off to fix himself, no one’s life here had. Things would have changed in his absence. He had hardly kept in touch with Jason and Howard and hadn’t even attempted to contact Gary; for all he knew the shop could’ve gone bust and they all could have skipped town, or even the country. Mark’s stomach lurched at the thought and for a moment he debated rushing into the bathroom, sure that the nausea he felt was going to get the better of him. But he took a deep breath and it eased a little. Life had gone on without him. It was a fact he had often returned to. The world hadn’t stopped turning just because he’d made a mistake, it had carried on regardless and now he had no way of knowing if anything in Manchester was the way he remembered it. He felt like a tourist in his own life – he ran through a list of places he should go and look for Gary and then thought better of it. He had no right to just turn up in front of Gary and start trying to justify what he’d done. He could try finding Jason or Howard, but his issue had never been with either of them.
I chose to go. I could’ve stayed in touch at least, I could’ve stuck around. But I chose to leave. This is my mess. I said I had to learn, I said I had to work out my mistakes and I did, I’m not going to make them again. I’m shit scared, everything feels different, I don’t want to have to talk any of this out but I’m going to have to. I'm facing up to it all this time, remember? Fighting whatever battles need to be fought to make it right. You can’t run forever. Fucking cliché but it’s true.
It was going dark when he ventured out again. He got a taxi to Oldham Street and stood outside the shop. He was amazed it was still standing. Something was off-balance but he couldn’t place it; he looked around the shop’s red and gold exterior, studying the gold lettering and the window display and noting the quirky angle of the closed sign on the door. As he stepped closer to try and peer inside, he noticed the kitchen light had been left on and he couldn’t resist trying his luck, digging around in his pocket for the key – he hadn’t thrown it away, of course he hadn’t. He was startled when the door opened.
I don’t know why but...I just thought they’d change the locks. Guess they can’t hate me too much. Unless they’ve just...forgotten I exist.
Stepping inside he could feel the whole building let out a long-held breath and the floorboards creaked welcomingly under his weight. It was strangely familiar to him. He had been so sure it wouldn’t have felt that way, the it wouldn’t be his home anymore. Quickly and quietly he went through to the kitchen, pausing in the doorway before he turned off the light. The blue mug was sitting in the sink, half-washed. Jason’s mug...but how very un-Jason for the mug not to be washed properly and put away. Mark frowned. Different. That word again. Unsettled by it he quickly flicked off the light, hurrying back out and locking up again before climbing back into the taxi, apologising profusely to the driver for the delay.
Back to the hotel. I can’t tell the difference between then and now at the hotel.
So here he was. No plans, no certainties. The only knowledge he had was that the shop was still there, and, judging from the kitchen, still being run by Gary, Jason and Howard. Although why had Jason given up on tidying? Had Howard finally broken him down in Mark’s absence? That seemed a ridiculous idea, because Mark knew all too well how much Jason relished challenging Howard at everything. It didn’t make sense to him. But then, nothing did. Things felt like they had shifted but he had no evidence to say they had, just something about the way the building had felt as he’d walked through. However much it unnerved him to think of it, he tried to focus on it. Because if he didn’t then he would be left alone with thoughts of Gary, agonising over what to say and how to say it.
Would Gary even want me to be back here? A year is a long time. He might’ve realised by now, he might’ve moved on by now. But haven’t I moved on too...isn’t that exactly what I came here to tell him?
He tried to sleep but no position on the bed was comfortable and he began to question whether the whole of Manchester was trying to tell him something. His place here was gone, changed by his mistakes. The damage was made irreparable when he had left. Maybe he was unforgiveable, maybe he’d used up his quota of mistakes for a lifetime and would be punished with a nomadic soul that couldn’t cope with being back in a place of such homeliness. He had only left for his own sake, no one else’s, surely. How could it have been for anyone else’s good? Jason’s words were the ones which haunted him the most. One person’s choices affect us all. He’d said that a long time ago in a discussion about something entirely separate but still Mark knew it was true, because Jason didn’t say things he didn’t honestly believe. They had been close, so close that even the smallest change could mean change for all. He had left in an act of self-preservation.
But self-preservation was no excuse, not if I changed their course as well as my own. Self-preservation for me could so easily have meant self-destruction for any one of them.
Gary. His only truly clear thought. After all, it had been Jason’s mug in the sink and no biscuits had been packed upon the shelves. Gary was gone, Mark realised with complete clarity. Gary was gone and it was Mark who had destroyed him.
And if Gary is gone and I drove him out...then I have to go too. And I can’t ever come back again.
Chapter Four
“Christ, it’s freezing out here! Honestly, this country,” Jason muttered as he and Monika descended the stairs and emerged into the Frankfurt night. She rolled her eyes at him fondly, closing the door behind her and coming to join him on the pavement.
“Man up would you! Anyone would think you lived in the tropics,” she teased, giving him a slight nudge before starting off in the direction of the city centre.
“Manchester is the tropics compared to Frankfurt,” Jason called after her.
“Will you stop whining and get over here – I almost broke my neck just then! Watch for that ice there,” Monika told him and he chuckled.
“Oh is that right?” he inquired and Monika, now holding her arms out wide for balance, simply whimpered, glancing over her shoulder at him and almost slipping again.
“Jay, I’m going to die,” she cried out as Jason stepped casually up beside her. She straightened up and looked at him pleadingly. Smiling he rolled his blue eyes, which were suddenly full of life and twinkle once more.
“Oh Moni, man up would you!” he teased softly, putting an arm around her shoulders as he did so and giving her a firm squeeze before linking their arms. She leant on him gratefully.
“I am so firing you once you’ve guided me safely into work,” she sighed, her head falling on his shoulder as he tugged her gently in the right direction.
“Fair enough,” he replied amicably, casually catching her as she slipped on another patch of ice.
The Alte Oper was a majestic structure and, though dwarfed by the city’s more modern buildings, it was one of the finest places to be in winter, lit up bright against the coldness of the night, an ice rink outside it and glittering blue Christmas lights all round. A good number of people were out again tonight, buzzing about the concert hall, some waiting for the night’s show and others enjoying an evening skate before going to dinner. Large Christmas trees stood outside the main entrance, smaller ones sitting in the arches on the building’s facade. Everything seemed to shimmer slightly and, amidst all the modernity of Frankfurt, the theatre seemed almost magical in its style, the ruins of it having been rebuilt after the war with great reverence to the structure it had been before. The inscription on the building’s frieze was the only full sentence of German which Jason knew; to the true, the beautiful, the good. Something in those words enchanted him.
Imagine if you could collect all the true, the beautiful and the good of the world. Who and what exactly would make the cut? Would I be there? My friends? My family? Or perhaps it is a building for a race of people that has long since disappeared. Maybe people were better in 1880. Maybe they were beautiful and true and good and didn’t make mistakes.
They were early. Monika wasn’t surprised, she’d pushed Jason out of the flat so fast that even she had struggled to catch her breath. She hadn’t wanted to leave him standing there, thinking himself into endless traps and bordering on moping. Even after she had hampered their progress through every stretch of ice between their front door and the Alte Oper there was still time to be killed before she was required to open up and boss the other ushers around. She could see some of the crew for the night’s show, disappearing towards the back of the building, heading for the stage door. She debated following them, it couldn’t hurt to keep tabs on them, it was part of her job to make sure the casts and crews that visited their concert hall did not destroy the place, but one glance at Jason and she knew he wasn’t quite ready to start chasing lighting technicians and conductors up and down the place.
“You want to go in?” Jason asked her as they neared the crowds.
“Still a while yet...come on, let’s watch the skaters,” she suggested.
“You do know they’re not likely to be figure-skating round the rink?” Jason pointed out.
“Oh shush you, it’s something to do!” she sighed, elbowing him gently in the ribs.
“Eh, I’m going to let you fall on your backside on this ice in a minute if you don’t start being nicer to me,” he warned her, though he didn’t show any signs of letting her go.
They found a spot at the edge of the rink, both leaning on the railing which surrounded it as they gazed at the glittery winter scene before them. Jason’s eyes reflected the lights but had lost most of their own, he was too tired or too lost in his thoughts to shine for himself.
“You’re not fooling me you know,” Monika told him softly. Jason had been so far away that he almost jumped at the words, blinking at her slightly.
“I didn’t know I was trying to,” he replied and she smiled.
“You’re always trying to fool everybody,” she said wisely. Jason looked away.
“You’re playing mind-games on me Monika,” he sighed.
“What, you mean like the ones you play on everyone else? And no, I’m not actually,” Monika frowned. Jason had to look back at her then, he folded his arms and turned his back to the skaters, leaning against the railings, his gaze still scanning across Monika’s face.
“You really think I actually want to kid anyone into thinking something about me that isn’t true?” he asked her slowly and, she noted, with a little guilt, he sounded hurt.
“No...but I think you want to make it true that you’re ok...so whilst you try and make it true, you want to make sure no one works out that you’re not ok,” she explained. Jason looked down at the floor then and she was relieved that he seemed to have understood her.
“I have been happy here...I am happy here,” he murmured at the floor. Monika smiled.
“Would you mind telling your face that?” she teased gently and Jason glanced up at her with a small smirk, rolling his eyes.
“Oh, now I’m talking you want to tease me?” he retorted.
“I just miss you smiling,” she told him honestly.
“I smile plenty,” Jason shot back and Monika simply shrugged.
“If you say so. But come on, are you actually trying to tell me you smile as much here as you did back home?” she challenged. Jason groaned, rubbing his hands over his face.
“This is home,” he said through his hands.
“Jay...look, I get it, you know? My old job was in an exotic country and I had amazing friends and it was a nice experience. But nothing could make it Germany, nothing could make it where I came from. And as much as I love my country, I know it can’t be home to everyone. I know Howard feels some connection here but...but it’s not the same for you, if you’re honest, is it?” Monika put a gentle hand on Jason’s arm and slowly he lowered his hands enough to look at her from the corner of his eye. She smiled hopefully and finally he dropped his hands completely, letting out a long breath.
“I’m a fucking Mancunian, you lot are all flipping foreign to me and...and I think that’s making me start to lose my mind. Or lose myself. Or...just lose,” he admitted quietly. As if to enforce his statement the cacophony of German voices around them seemed to swell, almost drowning him out.
“What do you want to do about it?” she asked at last.
“Deal with it? I don’t know. Deal with it seems the best strategy. I had to leave...circumstances just...aligned I suppose. I knew before that phone call...we all knew,” he murmured and she nodded.
“Gary said...or...he implied...” she began, but she faltered and glanced away.
“The shop is his and the Oper is mine and let’s just leave it at that, you know? If that’s what’s best then why should I mess with it?” Jason shrugged. Monika nodded slowly.
“Is it what’s best?” she tried carefully. Jason smiled a distant smile and shook his head.
“Monika...you don’t know what it was like...the change, the atmosphere. I was scared to stay and scared to go and in the end I just chose the lesser of two evils. And somewhere along the way I found out that being here isn’t so bad and now I just think it should be left at that, you know what I mean?” he said and Monika wasn’t sure what to make of that. She knew both versions of this story; Jason’s and Gary’s. She knew both outcomes and she had a vague understanding of the causes as had been outlined to her. But as much as they urged her to she couldn’t quite manage to take their word for it. She could only really judge on what she’d seen for herself and what she had seen of late made her want to push for as much information from Jason as she could. He was honest, he would tell her eventually and she knew that – and she suspected he knew that she knew – but it was obvious that he felt things were better left alone. But for tonight she knew she had to stop; Jason was running on empty as it was and she didn’t have the heart to make things any worse.
“Ok. Well, in that case, we have work to do. You up to it?” she suggested and Jason smiled, a thank you was somewhere in his eyes as he nodded slowly.
“Always,” he agreed.
There are reasons I left. Of course there are reasons I left. Why we left, rather. And they’re the same reasons I can’t go back. We can’t go back. Emphasis on ‘we’ really. We could not stay there and we cannot go back.
The two wound their way through the backstage corridors – Monika trying to find out from various crew members whether they were likely to start on time tonight whilst Jason daydreamed silently – until eventually they reached the foyer, a grand, cavernous space where their footsteps echoed loudly. Later this place would take on a new warmth, when people started to gather around the bars and the Christmas trees and the rest of the front-of-house team finally decided to put in an appearance. One lone usher was sitting on the bar, talking – well, flirting – with the barman. Both were wearing their uniforms (smart red waistcoats with gold buttons, name badges and embroidery, paired with black trousers and bowties) but Jason didn’t recognise either of them. Monika muttered darkly in his ear that they were temps drafted in to help with the season’s workload with no real need to work hard and certainly no incentive to obey her. Jason smirked softly but did not reply, casting one last glance at the flirting pair before following Monika in the direction of the ticket office. The ticket office was, in fact, an anteroom of the foyer, slightly less grand but somehow more cavernous, its furniture sparse but for the ticket office booth itself and one or two strategically placed stands bearing ‘What’s On’ leaflets in five different languages. There was a bench – a large, uncomfortable, wooden monstrosity that Jason had never seen anyone sit on – to one side and Monika hastily dumped her coat and scarf on it before making her way around to the back of the booth, dropping her keys three or four times before finally managing to let herself in. As she fiddled with the keys, Jason took the time to fold their coats and scarves and put them down more neatly on the bench before coming to join her in the ticket booth just as she attempted to turn on the computer.
“It’s colder in here than it is out there,” Monika sighed, rubbing her arms slightly and looking around the booth for some form of heater but finding nothing. She put the temperature down to the emptiness of the room and flopped down into the office chair, hitting the computer’s power button for a second time in an attempt to coax it into life.
“Maria called in sick again?” Jason enquired, ignoring her shivering. Monika visibly grimaced and Jason had to work very hard to bite back his smirk.
“She called me this morning. She knows that I know she isn’t sick. And if she is then it’s only because she will have spent all Christmas drinking,” she muttered and Jason smiled, coming to sit on the desk by the computer and folding his arms.
“Pot meet kettle; we spent all Christmas drinking too,” he pointed out.
“Ah, but we still came into work...to do her job as well as ours! Now, can you please tell me what is wrong with this thing?!” Monika demanded in frustration, hitting the computer slightly. Jason glanced down at the computer and shrugged.
“I don’t know, is it definitely plugged in?” he tried and Monika shot him a withering look.
“I’m German not daft,” she told him, making him laugh slightly.
“You nationality has nothing to do with it, I was just wondering if it was definitely on!” he said, putting his hands up to surrender. Monika had stopped paying attention, choosing instead to start hitting random computer keys.
“It’s plugged in and it’s not working! And why? Why on the day when there is no way on earth we will be able to ring up any of the tech-maintenance guys!” she was talking mostly to herself now, alternating between shaking the computer’s monitor and hitting whatever buttons she could find.
“One or two should be around for the show though shouldn’t they?” Jason frowned but Monika waved a dismissive hand at him.
“Chance would be a find thing; holiday shows never go to plan because everyone with any sense skives off except me, because I’m head usher, so they all think I can do all their jobs for them, but that is not what I am trained for! I am trained to boss them around and bark at them over the little in-ear things; making the little in-ear things the only bit of technology I can actually deal with! If Maria were here, she might know what to do, but she’s not and now we are going to have no idea how many seats we have booked tonight and we won’t be able to sell any of the remaining tickets because the seating plan can’t be printed out...” Monika was talking very quickly and Jason wasn’t sure whether it was right to interrupt her. He waved a timid hand to try and get a word in but Monika had already turned back to the computer and was hitting keys and cursing in angry German.
“Please don’t descend into German, I’m leaving if you descend into German,” Jason pleaded.
“It’s my language!” Monika protested, letting her forehead drop onto the keyboard with a thud.
“I know...but it’s so angry. And you’re quite frightening enough when things like this happen, without you adding German into the mix,” Jason chuckled gently. Monika looked up at him from her keyboard-pillow.
“What less-angry language would you rather I swore in then?” she asked and Jason shrugged.
“Surprise me,” he suggested. Monika thought a moment then sat up and looked directly at the computer, pursing her lips briefly in thought and letting out a short breath.
“Fucking switch on you bastard piece of shit!” she let out suddenly and then looked back at Jason for approval. Jason laughed and nodded.
“Nice, spoken like a proper Mancunian girl,” he nodded.
“Sounded just as angry to me, and a little bit rougher around the edges! But, each to their own. Anyway, none of this matters because we still haven’t got a seating chart!” Monika reminded him.
“You know what you need? You need Howard. He can coax pretty much any piece of technology into life,” Jason said slowly, looking at the computer thoughtfully then looking back to Monika.
“No, I think you are the one who needs Howard,” she said softly, her eyes narrowed slightly. Jason sucked in a breath and looked away, suddenly stony-faced.
“I don’t ‘need’ Howard,” he muttered quietly. Monika frowned, confused for a moment, before realisation set in. She looked at Jason with kind eyes, wheeling her chair a little closer to him.
“Is that what all this is about?” she asked gently, putting her hand on his arm. But Jason pulled his arm swiftly away and refused to look at her.
“What all what is about?” he asked her with unconvincing confusion and Monika simply looked at him, her hand still hovering where it had been before he moved. She slowly let her hand drop back to her lap as the two of them sat in silence. She still watched him thoughtfully, but she chose not to say anything more.
Monika chose instead to study his face carefully. Living with Howard and Jason she had found herself with the opportunity that many never would; the opportunity to really look at them. It was ridiculous really; she’d heard of theories that beautiful people always found each other but she had never given it much notice until these two men had arrived on her doorstep. Neither one of them was as devastatingly handsome as they made you feel they were. Don’t misunderstand, both of them were undeniably beautiful, and perhaps in their younger years they had possessed the ability to break hearts with a look, but they were not that kind of obvious that so many muscle-men and movie-stars were. Both had bright blue eyes (Howard’s startling and mischievous, Jason’s piercing and twinkly), both had strong jawlines and were tall and broad-shouldered and charming. But neither one of them exuded that Leading Man quality casting directors would look for. The two of them were a little more subtle than that; it wasn’t always about those blue eyes, it was about how they looked with those eyes. It wasn’t the jawline, it was the way they would casually rub a hand across it with tired disregard. It was about the way in which their expressions were so clearly distinguishable. She hadn’t know them long, but she could identify certain smiles with ease. With a small smile of her own into the silence she took a breath and ventured a return to conversation.
“Do you want to know something that I’m fairly sure you will have been told a thousand times before?” she asked. The question took Jason by surprise and the discontent instantly vanished from his face. With a reluctant smile he rubbed a hand over his eyes and sighed, looking over at her at last. She smiled back at him and he shrugged.
“Go on then,” he agreed.
“Your eyes change colour when you mention him. Nothing major just...a lighter blue. It’s a little bit like you just stepped out into some sunlight or something. I think it’s a million times better than anything I’ve read in any novel,” Monika told him, tilting her head on one side and watching as a shy smile touched Jason’s lips. He looked away, laughing slightly as his eyes slowly went to his hands.
“Well, you do have a lot of books,” he murmured and Monika smiled.
“Exactly, so I must know what I’m talking about,” she replied. Jason slowly looked back at her, the smile still on his lips.
“My mum says it too,” he said and Monika laughed gently.
“Well she definitely knows what she’s talking about then,” she beamed.
“Y’think?” he joked.
“Just a bit,” Monika agreed.
“Yeah well...I have actually heard it before. Although I think you’ve maybe phrased it the best,” Jason sighed, stretching slightly, his eyes suddenly very thoughtful.
“See, us Germans aren’t as scary as we sound,” Monika smiled and Jason chuckled.
“Keep telling yourself that. But...you’re still right. I think I’ve been hearing it ever since I met him. In fact I know I have. Mostly from my mum, but everyone says it in one way or another, that they just knew he had arrived before I told them I’d found him, that sort of thing anyway. In fact, you know, my mum said to me when I married him, she said ‘You know I could probably find you a hundred better men, with fewer flaws, with less baggage, maybe a bit better looking though that would be difficult...but I don’t think I could find anyone that makes your eyes shine that way, a way that I have never seen before him, your own mother and I’ve never seen it, and that’s all that really counts’ – my dad proceeded to tell me something along the lines of ‘He’s a bit of a tit but I think he’s good for you’ which was a lot less poetic but still sweet in its own way. Anyway, I guess that’s why I fight so hard to be ok, coz I know I’ve got more than enough reason to be ok, you know what I mean?” Jason’s voice was so soft, a warmth in it that Monika put down to a mixture of gratitude and affection.
“That’s sweet,” she told him.
“Still better than those novels?” he asked mischievously and Monika laughed.
“It’s like living in a romantic comedy, seriously. Now, when you’re quite finished being mushy, I think Simon might be able to help us with this monstrosity,” she said, gesturing vaguely at the computer before grabbing Jason’s hand and pulling him off in the direction of the staff room.
Everyone tells me that except Howard. Does Howard even notice these things?
It wasn’t until the computer fiasco had been sorted that Jason knew what exactly his job would be for the evening. Due to his ineptitude with the German language, Jason’s primary role at the concert hall was usually to deal with foreign visitors. Although most of the ushers spoke perfectly good English (except for perpetually angry Charlotte, who seemed to barely speak any form of German that people could understand, never mind any other languages) Jason’s role was justified largely as being a preventative strike against broken-English speaking Spaniards encountering broken-English speaking ushers and unleashing havoc.
Once the seating plan had finally reached Monika’s hands, Jason found himself being chivvied in the direction of the highest concentration of foreign bookings; as the Christmas concert was deemed such a grand occasion, there was actually a good contingent of foreigners, so many, in fact, that Monika had deemed it necessary to source a small sticker of a British flag to add to the bottom of Jason’s name badge.
“Oh sure, like I don’t already feel like the odd one out!” he’d protested weakly, but Monika was in work-mode and she waved him off before marching in the direction of the still-flirting temps to give them an earful. Jason hovered near the programme sellers (the fairly friendly, if slightly mad, Lucas and the sweet, giggly Emily) and tried not to get in anyone’s way. Tonight was going to be long and busy and he was already looking forward to getting home. He watched as Monika and Simon moved over to the large doors of the main entrance, unbolting them slowly before Monika fished out a keyring and went to each door individually to unlock them.
I guess that means it’s show time.
As expected, the chaos was extensive and not a single usher had chance to catch their breath. Monika was almost out of voice trying to keep everything in check over their ear pieces; at one point half the show’s crew went missing and the ushers were on standby to take control of the sound and lighting desks. Jason had been busy too; he had had to help two Danes find the toilets, a Frenchman find his wife, a British child find his parents, a large group of Russians (a first for him all year) find their VIP section and then several dozen others of varying nationalities find their seats. By the time he got home he was ready to sleep for a year, but he knew they had to do it all again tomorrow night. Monika muttered something about always picking professions that deprived her of sleep before she disappeared into the kitchen and Jason was so tired he merely yawned in response, heading to the bedroom and flopping down onto the bed. It was so tempting just to fall asleep that way – stretched out diagonally across the space. Howard wasn’t there, after all, and, though the advantages to that were few, the extra space in bed was one Jason clung to. But he knew he shouldn’t sleep in his uniform. And, in any case, Howard had promised to phone after he got done in Berlin and Jason suspected Crystal would hold him to that.
At some point he dozed off by accident – he’d managed to get as far as taking his bowtie off and unbuttoning his shirt before collapsing, which he decided was quite an achievement all things considered – and it was a gentle knock on the bedroom door which awoke him. He opened one eye and leant up slightly just as Monika put her head around the door.
“Interesting look you’re going for,” she smiled, nodding to his half-undressed state.
“They’re coming to shoot my calendar later,” Jason murmured back sleepily, rubbing his eyes, and Monika smirked, shouldering the door a little wider open and coming into the room bearing two mugs of hot chocolate. She handed one to Jason and he sat up, taking hold of it gratefully.
“I thought you could use some, I know I need it after tonight!” she shrugged, sipping her own. Jason smiled back in thanks, curling his hands around the mug and letting the steam hit his face.
“Mm, cheers. I have to say, you Germans do know how to do winter,” he sighed, taking a sip.
“So that’s why you’re still here,” Monika teased, perching on the edge of the bed. Jason looked down into his drink and nodded slowly.
“Absolutely. It’s why tonight didn’t prompt my resignation too,” he added playfully.
“Really? God, tonight prompted mine. You’re new head usher; good luck!” Monika laughed.
“Don’t even joke,” Jason grimaced tiredly though his eyes danced with a dash of mischief.
“So, any idea when Howard’s going to call?” Monika asked him and Jason shrugged.
“Whenever it suits him,” he replied.
“Just go to sleep Jay, he can leave a message,” Monika suggested but Jason shook his head.
“It’ll make no difference, I’ll only start worrying about him and then I won’t get to sleep anyway so I might as well just stay up,” he dismissed and Monika sighed.
“Well if you’re staying up will you at least have something to eat?” she tried but Jason shook his head once more, sipping his hot chocolate.
“No, I can’t eat this late it would be silly. No, I’ll be fine. Just save me a bit of toast in the morning,” he said and Monika rolled her eyes.
“Like I’ll actually be up before you,” she smirked and Jason smiled.
“Might be; depends how late my husband calls me,” he replied.
“I have complete confidence in you Orange. Now, I’m off to get some sleep – you sure you’re ok staying up on your own?” Monika asked him, getting up off the bed and heading towards the door.
“Course,” Jason nodded with a smile and, blowing him a kiss goodnight, Monika left the room.
Course I’ll be ok staying up on my own. That’s pretty much what I do with my life now, isn’t it?
Chapter Five
Waking up in a hotel bed on anything other than a holiday is, and always has been to Mark, a sensation he was far from comfortable with. In fact he would go as far as to say everything about it was uncomfortable. It was not through any fault of the hotel, of course, and Mark would never think of blaming them for it. It was his fault, just like many things these days seemed to be. The duvet didn’t cover him properly and the sun came under the curtains at the wrong angle and the world was turned on a peculiar axis by the unnatural plumpness of the pillows – and why was that? Because he didn’t fit. He was the wrong shape; too small, too alone. It was all just a reminder of his solitude. Of his homelessness. An extension of his newfound ability to belong nowhere. He’d had to force himself to stay here last night; the only reason he hadn’t gone? He had nowhere to go to.
Slowly, reluctantly, he opened his eyes and let it all sink in. A chink of Manchester sunlight was beginning to creep under the curtains and it hurt the backs of his eyes so he rolled over slightly, very conscious of how spacious the bed was. He had managed to avoid double beds for the majority of his year away and he didn’t appreciate the vast expanse that his small frame was utterly incapable of making any less empty. He stuck a tentative arm out from under the duvet and grabbed his phone off the bedside table, pulling it quickly under the duvet with him and squinting at the screen. One new text message. From Robbie. ‘U seen him yet?’ was all it said, and Mark knew who Robbie meant. There was really only one unnamed ‘him’ between the two of them. ‘No, went 2 look at the shop but no1 there. Think Jay had been in though’ Mark fired off a text back and then burrowed even further down into the duvet. He needn’t come out really, surely. His phone buzzed against his cheek and he opened his eyes again. ‘No1 at shop? Weird. You called him?’ – Mark smiled guiltily.
Come on Rob, you know the answer to that.
Mark took a deep breath and sent off his reply; ‘Couldn’t do it. Scared shitless. Going 2 shop again 2day. Hope just Jay will b there.’ Robbie’s reply was all but instant this time ‘U have 2 c him sometime Markie. Good luck x’ and Mark shook his head and whimpered. Robbie was right. What was the world coming to if he needed Robbie Williams to tell him to suck it up and do the thing he didn’t want to do? He didn’t want to be a grown up, he didn’t want to deal with all this.
But I’m not going to feel normal, to feel right, if I just keep avoiding it.
He pushed himself up in the bed and sat there a moment, blinking. He remembered last night, creeping into the shop and it all seeming so familiar and yet so...so wrong at the same time. It wasn’t that he had felt he didn’t belong there, not quite as powerfully as he usually felt he didn’t belong everywhere else anyway. But it had been something else. Something was different about the place. Something about Jason’s mug being left in the sink. As absurd as it sounded, that bothered him. Why was Jason there on his own, for a start, where were Howard and, more importantly, Gary? And if it really was Jason who had left it, why had he not washed up? What was so wrong that Jason didn’t care about that sort of thing anymore? On the other hand, it could have been someone else, using Jason’s mug for convenience or...or something. But they’d had a system and breaking that seemed wrong to Mark’s mind. The image played on his mind too long and he had to get off the bed to try and distract himself.
He pulled the curtains back and stared down at Manchester. It wasn’t springing to life, as such. More...stumbling. But it was somehow comforting to see all those people down below. It made him feel marginally less alone, for a little while at least. Maybe that wasn’t his problem though, maybe he could actually cope a lot better with being alone if he knew first that he had done everything that needed to be done. It is a lot easier to be alone with oneself when one knows that all one’s mistakes have been atoned for in some way.
He went through his morning routine with an unnatural calmness and an uncharacteristic lack of spring. Even in the darkest times he had a certain amount of bounce in his step, largely because of the jerky, puppet-like way he naturally moved. But today he was oddly still, placid even. The fear, he supposed, was doing strange things to him and he needed to distract himself somehow. He finished brushing his teeth and began to choose his outfit.
As if it matters.
Jeans and cardigans and scarves were spread across the room by the time he was pulling on his boots, rethreading the laces yet again. It took three attempts before he had done them up right. He put his hands on his knees and he looked at the mess. And then he saw it; his guitar case. A small smile crept onto his lips as he took it in hand. He knew what he needed to do to calm himself.
He still knew Manchester’s streets well. He knew where the nearest coffee shop was to his hotel and he stopped there for caffeine and breakfast before springing into action once more, a new life in his eyes. Busking had always served his confidence so well in the past. And goodness knew his confidence needed something today. He could only afford an hour, an hour and a half at most, but he had to do it. He would never face up to the shop today if he didn’t do this first. He’d been moments away from returning to the duvet until he’d remembered his guitar.
And there is nothing grown up about hiding under the covers.
But, for all his confidence building, when the moment came he still wanted to run. He paused outside every cafe and shop between there and Oldham Street, wondering if he could justify going inside to while away an hour or three. But he knew he couldn’t; there was no use to it. And he would have to go to Oldham Street sometime in any case, how else was he intending on begging for his old job back? He couldn’t go back to working on that street without addressing the real issues that lay there. Even just smoothing things over with Jason would be a start at least, it might reassure him that talking to Gary would be a bearable experience, that Gary would be ok and wouldn’t throw him straight out. Jason had always been good at reassurance, Mark had missed that.
He wouldn’t lie to me though. If Gary’s made me dead to him, Jay will tell me. And he won’t sugar-coat it to try and help me swallow it. Am I really ready for his honesty?
Barlow’s was still standing, the front window framed in snow. For some reason Mark had half-expected the place to have fallen down overnight; it had felt so forlorn yesterday, like the floorboards were aching to just crumble into dust. But maybe he’d imagined that, maybe he was the forlorn one. And he may well crumble to dust after today. He clenched and unclenched his fists a few times, sucking in deep breaths – he was amazed icicles weren’t forming on his lungs. The open sign was turned around; someone was in. Mark swallowed and looked up and down the street, half-expecting Howard or Jason to appear, wrapped up tightly against the elements, probably whistling away to themselves or lost in headphones. But the street was practically deserted. First working day back after Christmas, people were probably refusing to leave their homes until the new year arrived.
His legs seemed to want to move independently of his body and, quite without his permission, they moved stiffly out into the road. He crossed as though he were crossing marshland and his progress was slow, every other part of his body trying to drag his legs back. His heart was clattering against his ribs and he almost wanted to tell it to shush, terrified it was so loud it could be heard inside the shop. The kitchen light was on again, Mark could see through the door. With a ragged breath he placed his hand on the glass and pushed the door open. The shop bell jangled harshly in the stillness and the sound of it was made him realise what his heart was trying to tell him.
I think I was wrong. I don’t want to know the truth today.
Chapter Six
Jason slowly opened his eyes, instantly feeling a dull ache in his left arm and very aware of the numbness in his left hand; he so hated falling asleep before he meant to. Sleep was an issue for him at the best of times, without it waging war on his limbs. He unfolded himself slightly, blinking against the dim morning light that was coming in through the bedroom window. Snow was falling yet again outside and he groaned quietly before rolling onto his back and searching the bed for what had become of his phone. He found it underneath him, the screen covered in smudges. He remembered now; he had fallen asleep waiting for Howard to call. Howard hadn’t called in the end, however at Stupid A.M. a text had come through explaining that he’d had to take over after another DJ pulled out at the last minute. He’d promised to call in the morning some time, but whether that was actually morning or just when Howard woke up, Jason hadn’t been sure. He reread the text and sighed, knowing that he had yet more waiting around to do.
When exactly did I become that guy?
Slowly he pushed himself up in the bed, peeling the duvet off him with a grimace. He was too hot – it was snowing outside and he was too hot. Absurdity. But if he was going to venture out then he would need something more than his pyjamas. He edged himself off the bed and rummaged around beneath it for a moment, eventually pulling out a hoody of Howard’s. There was always at least one lying around somewhere and Jason smiled slightly as he pulled it over his head, a waft of Howard’s shampoo engulfing him briefly. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to make his brain wake up. Last night had been exhausting, and yet still he woke up at eight just like every other morning.
God knows how I’m even still functioning.
Slowly he got to his feet, shuffling out of the bedroom and down the hall towards the kitchen, careful not to make too much noise. He searched the cupboards to see what exactly was left of their big pre-Christmas shop and yet again he wished he had stayed in bed. There was nothing. Or rather, what there was wasn’t exactly appealing. They had plenty of chocolate, stacked in fancy boxes with gift-labels and bows still attached, but he couldn’t quite justify chocolate for breakfast. He opened the fridge and stared inside. No yoghurt left but there was a little milk and some eggs; if Howard were here he would make pancakes and maybe have one or two himself as an indulgence. But Howard was in Berlin and Monika was in bed and there was no real excuse for him to start cooking. With resignation he opened the breadbin and fished out a few slices of bread, sliding them into the toaster and stifling a yawn. Mornings never used to be this hard for him. At home he would wake up slowly as the sun rose and pull round quickly once it was high enough. And then there had been their routine. He’d enjoyed it all so much; he would wake up and cook, Howard would wake up and shower, Grace would wake up and moan about school, he would feed the pair of them then head off to the shop whilst Howard took Grace to school. Simplicity. Now he never knew what to expect when he woke up; planes to be caught, trains to be met, ticket office staff to be covered for, last minute bookings to be driven to and no one’s routine crossing over with anyone else’s. Complicated, quiet and unpredictable.
He finished preparing his toast in silence, still careful of avoiding disturbing Monika’s sleep, watching his phone closely, on edge waiting for it to light up.
Howard not providing me with any definite timescale; some things never change.
He took up his plate and his phone and moved over to the living room window, peering down at the deserted street below. The snow was thick outside now, but there was something he didn’t trust about the Christmas card image in front of him. No one really lived in the scenes on Christmas cards. The only people ever in those pictures were stuck there, trapped inside endless stillness. It was beautiful, he supposed, but essentially lifeless. He was about to turn away from the window when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Putting the piece of toast he was holding back down on his plate, he fished out his phone and trapped it between his shoulder and his ear. He didn’t need to look at the screen; Howard was almost the only person who called him these days.
That should bother me more.
“Mornin’ love,” Howard’s voice was croaky. Jason could hear the mixture of cigarette smoke, alcohol and sleep deprivation that lined Howard’s words and he smiled slightly sadly.
“Morning...you sound like you had a rough one,” he sighed. He wouldn’t bring up the cigarettes, he hadn’t in a long time. Precisely when Howard had started smoking again Jason couldn’t be sure, but he knew it had been a long time now. He wasn’t sure if Howard realised he knew but he didn’t care because he didn’t have the energy to fight over it. And it would be a fight, he felt sure of that.
“Long night. I’m getting paid double for covering though. Anyway, how was your night? Many foreigners around to keep you busy?” Howard enquired through a long yawn.
“More than I’ve had at any other show, boxing day concerts are a big deal I guess but I think this year’s has been the biggest. I even had a few Brits. Not from Manchester mind, but it was nice to feel a bit of home around, you know?” Jason told him quietly.
Nice for the few minutes I was actually talking to them anyway. And then when they were gone I realised I would have been better off without the reminder.
“Look, I know you’re not going to like this but...I might not make my flight tonight. Crystal’s looking into whether the train might be a better option but...but if not, if the gig overruns or anything, I’ll book for tomorrow and then call you straight away. I’ll be back for New Year’s Eve though I promise,” Howard explained quickly and Jason pursed his lips.
“You’ll be back because you have a gig on New Year’s Eve you mean,” he remarked, though there was little emotion in his voice.
“Jay...” Howard pleaded softly but Jason just closed his eyes.
“It’s fine. Look, you need some more sleep. I’ll see you soon, yeah? Love you,” he sighed.
“Love you too,” Howard said back quietly.
Jason hung up. For a moment he stood by the window, his eyes glazed. He was still looking out but he wasn’t seeing. And, oddly for him, he wasn’t thinking much either. Or feeling. There was no anger, not towards Howard anyway. Blinking slightly he turned around, putting his phone down on the table next to his untouched breakfast and then heading for the door. Unflinchingly he grabbed his coat and scarf and he wrenched open the door, so entirely free of thought that he didn’t even remember to let it close softly behind him.
Monika jumped awake when she heard the slam, frowning in confusion and rubbing her eyes. Slowly she climbed out of bed and went over to the bedroom window. She got there just in time to see him descend the front steps and walk out alone into the frozen morning and she couldn’t help but be concerned. He didn’t seem angry or distressed, but it didn’t take a genius to work out that something was wrong with Jason storming from the house at this hour in the morning.
Jason himself wasn’t sure what he was doing, he was moving thoughtlessly through the snow, eyes down on the pavement. He was felt he might be taking himself to the train station but he couldn’t be sure and he couldn’t say why because he had no urge to catch a train. The cold was biting at his cheeks and a sharp breeze was propelling snowflakes into his face. He had made the mistake of forgetting to button his coat and so Howard’s hoody was blown flat against his ribs, almost producing an outline of each one. He pulled the coat around him tighter and pressed on, only able to latch on to one small train of thought.
When did I become that guy? When did I become that guy?
Chapter Seven
Gary trudged down Oldham Street, convinced he was the only man left in all Manchester. He had hardly seen another soul on his way to work. His footprints were the only ones in the snow on Oldham Street and no other shop appeared to be open. Even the drunkard who could usually be found on the front steps of The Castle Inn wasn’t there. Today was a working day, that’s why he was here anyway. But he supposed that other people were with their families and partners, snuggled down in beds that weren’t too big for them. No one in their right mind would come shopping today. Well, not for anything that wasn’t essential anyway. They might venture out for more milk or bread or teabags, but it seemed somewhat unlikely that anyone would be in desperate need of a clarinet or a rare jazz LP. Still, work got him out of the flat. He loved his new flat, he really did, but everything echoed in there. And it was far too tidy. He wasn’t the neatest person in the world but he didn’t tend to live in chaos. Not when he was on his own anyway. He had never thought he would miss clothes, guitars and used mugs so much. He had, after much deliberation, put it down the fact that the mess had always served as a much-appreciated reminder that he was not alone. If you’re tidying up after somebody, no matter how much you are aware of the wastage of your time, you know that somebody has been there. Now the only person he ever had a reminder of was himself, and tidying up his own messes was a lot less fun.
Life lesson that. And I’m not just talking about having to wash a few dishes.
He dug around in his pockets, trying to find where he had put his keys. That was another thing; he missed not having the reassurance that, if he had been so foolish as to misplace, forget or lose his keys to the shop, there was someone who he could phone for back-up. Three people, in fact. But three had been whittled down to just him. Responsibility. In many ways he relished it; being so in charge was exhilarating, made him more sure of his choices, convinced him he was plotting the right course for his life. But the downside was that, when he had finished ordering himself, he had no one to tell the good news to or share the positive results with.
He let himself into the shop, rubbing his hands together slightly. It was even cold inside now, this was ridiculous. But he still took off his coat and scarf and hung them up.
It’ll get warmer as the day goes on. I should know, I paid the heating bill. Who needs Jay, eh?
The shop was quiet today. Well, it was quiet every day but, for some reason, Gary was convinced this silence was one he hadn’t heard before. And over the past year he had learnt every kind of silence these walls had to offer. It was as though the shop was holding its breath, as if it was nervous he would notice something wrong with it, something out of place or broken. Gary stood by the stairs a moment, turning and surveying the space. He couldn’t see anything wrong. There was still a layer of dust on every instrument, there were still rings from mugs of tea left behind on the stairs. Everything was just the right amount of shabby and he couldn’t see a single thing wrong with it so he continued to the back room. Then he saw it. His pianos were fine, thankfully, but the kitchen light was off. He was sure he’d left it on – he’d remembered that fact last night when he had gotten halfway home. He had turned it on just before he left, checking to see if he had left his keys in there. He hadn’t, they’d been in his coat, but he had been so concerned about what he’d done with his keys that he hadn’t turned the light off afterwards. Frowning, Gary went and stood in the kitchen doorway.
Bulb must’ve gone.
He flicked the switch and the light came on and he couldn’t quite hide his surprise. The shop seemed to be straining even harder now. But he didn’t know what it was he was supposed to make of this. He’d not left the light on, obviously, that was all. No more Jason around the place now, no one coming in before him in the morning and straightening the place out, so however he left the shop is how the shop stayed. And that was made all the more obvious by the blue mug still sitting in the sink. Gary sighed.
I used Jay’s mug yesterday didn’t I. Not the first time...but maybe it should be the last.
He couldn’t explain why he was so suddenly overcome by guilt. He’d used all their mugs. At first he had actually done it on purpose – his small act of revenge on them all for leaving. It didn’t mean anything. There was just no need for colour coding now was there, not with just him here on his own. But still he stared at the mug sitting in the sink. It seemed cruel somehow. It had been a small quirk of the friendship between the four of them, hadn’t it? That they all had little roles to fulfil, that they had each had a part to play based upon their unique skills and character quirks...and that had been acknowledged, in a way, through their labelling system. Gary moved to the sink and rinsed the mug though, still turning the thought over in his head. There was no excuse for being this put out by a mug.
But it is the end of an era. It’s symbolic of the end of an era. And it doesn’t matter how long an era is over for, if you have good memories of it then you’re always going to miss it when something gives you the excuse to.
Washing up done, Gary turned to make his tea for the day. At first he very deliberately reached for his own mug; bold and red and kept at the very top of the mug tree. But then he stopped. Maybe it would be a step backwards to let it get to him, to start paying attention to these little changes again. He had, after all, managed to get himself into a frame of mind where it didn’t bother him. It was exactly as he had realised last night; the different things had morphed into normal and now it was what used to be normal which would actually be a bigger change. Swallowing, he reached for the yellow mug. That was defiance for the universe to see; Mark’s mug. The was somehow even more symbolic than if he had used Howard and Jason’s mugs simultaneously. The building didn’t seem to approve and a floorboard groaned loudly underneath him.
What does it matter anyway?
He busied himself with the kettle then.
Ignore the irrational; buildings can’t judge you, mugs can’t alter the course of your life and the only thing you can trust is tea.
He focused more than was necessary on the teabags and needlessly washed his teaspoon as he waited for the kettle to boil. The urge for a biscuit was strong and he wondered if it was too early to start snacking; he eyed up the biscuit tin thoughtfully, debating nipping out to restock it. But no, if he started eating now he wouldn’t stop all day. He patted his stomach self-consciously, smoothing his shirt across it and nodding to himself. He had more resolve than that, he was Gary Barlow, perseverance personified. The kettle boiling pulled him out of the moment and he rolled his eyes at himself, turning back to the task at hand with mild embarrassment. And that was when he heard it.
Bloody hell, I forgot how loud that bell could be.
The clatter was immense in the stillness of the shop and Gary narrowly avoided spilling scalding water on his hand – something he was very glad of, he needed that hand to play piano. Fussing slightly, pulling at kitchen towel and flustering with the mug, he turned his head just slightly. He couldn’t hear the floorboards creaking but given all his clattering in the kitchen he wasn’t surprised. Customers were rare this early, and this early at this time of year was almost unheard of, so he hoped he hadn’t scared them away.
“I’ll be through to you in a minute,” he shouted over his shoulder, still mopping up spilt water with kitchen towel, wrinkling his nose as the paper started to disintegrate on his fingers. But no reply came so Gary let his shoulder sag slightly and went back to his tea.
Stuff it, let them come find me back here. I’ll let them use Jason’s mug. Maybe we’ll hit it off. Maybe we’ll smash up all their mugs. I’m past caring about the past. I’m drinking my tea from the yellow mug and I don’t even care – how exactly can the universe punish me for it anyway?
Chapter Eight
Howard stood on Crystal’s tiny Berlin balcony, looking at the frost-encrusted city before him. He took a long drag on his cigarette and sighed. He’d tried hard to get back to sleep after calling Jason, but nothing had worked. Crystal had offered him her bed rather than the sofa, but still he couldn’t get his brain to close off. He leant on the balcony’s railing and shook his head; he had a long day today, even longer if he couldn’t get back to Jason as he had planned to, and he really could have used the rest. He could always use the rest these days.
Funny really, I never imagined rest would be the problem. In fact, I think that was part of the point.
He stubbed out his cigarette and for a moment he felt a pulse of guilt pass through him, just as it always did. He never felt it when he lit up or as he smoked, always at the end. At first he would try and shake it off but now he let it run through him until it reached his fingertips, shivering slightly before letting it disappear once more. He didn’t know if Jason knew. He supposed he must, Jason was astute, especially when it came to him. But neither one of them said anything and so, in Howard’s mind, every cigarette was still a small betrayal, in a way. Not a drastic one, not a life shattering one. But enough to know he had to feel the guilt; feeling the guilt proved to him that he wasn’t losing grip, it told him he still cared and still knew Jason as well as he should. A small part of him enjoyed it, he came to expect it now. He waited for the sting of it in his little finger and when it was gone he would flex out the fingers on both hands and sigh.
Berlin was stuttering into life and the sound of cars and voices mingled loudly, somehow amplified by the cold. The view from Crystal’s tiny apartment was actually pretty impressive; it was beautiful, in a cityscape sort of a way. It was strangely dissimilar from Manchester though – he supposed this was an obvious thing to think, Berlin was not only a capital city, but a capital city in a different country entirely. But still it always surprised him. Once, not all that long ago, he hadn’t really noticed their differences. He could blur cities together with ease; Manchester was always home, it was always where he came from and nothing could feel quite as important to him as that. That was just a subtle difference though, an afterthought he had had once or twice. Berlin has always seemed similarly familiar though, he had enjoyed looking at it just as much, maybe more. Now it was different, it was harder to pick out the similarities. He loved it, he loved all of it. Germany had always had a certain hold over him. The only thing he could really say had changed was him; after all, though Germany was as ever-changing as any country it still kept hold of what made it Germany.
But I’ve not lost what makes me Howard, I know that I can’t have changed that much. I’m older, I suppose. And Germany still has...something over me. The only thing is...does Jay have more of a hold over me? Maybe he does. Well no, not maybe. He does. And he deserves to.
Howard was instantly overcome with a pang of longing that hit him square in the chest. His breastbone tingled. It was a little like being stung by a jellyfish, or at least how he imagined that would feel. He knew Jason was putting a brave face on things but the truth was they would both be devastated if Howard didn’t manage to get back tonight. It was the first time in a long time that they would have had that sort of time together; he didn’t have any more bookings until New Year, the first let-up since the festive period had begun. Howard closed his eyes and thought, very seriously, about skipping out on his gig that night. But he couldn’t do it; you start behaving like that and all the reputation you’ve worked hard to build up for yourself gets lost in no time.
I love Jay, so much. Much more than my work. But we have to live.
He reached for his cigarettes. His hand hovered over them a minute. He wasn’t sure adding more guilt to the top of his mood was a good plan, but he needed another cigarette. He picked up his lighter instead, choosing to watch the flame. The minimal heat it provided was actually refreshing amidst the winter air. He wondered if he should phone Jason again, but that might make Jason feel even worse. And that would make Howard want a cigarette even more. And if Jason found out that would make him worse still and then Howard would need another cig...it was a vicious cycle and he didn’t want to start it. One cigarette now was, perhaps, better than twenty cigarettes and a fight with Jason later. He lit one and for a moment he was aware of his fingers’ loose grip over it. It was almost as though they wanted no part in his deceit, as if they were waiting to drop the cigarette over the balcony down into the snow.
What, and set the city on fire? Don’t be a daft bastard.
He heard the screen door slide open and Crystal stepped out to join him. She looked at the cigarette in his hand and her lips twitched slightly in suppressed disapproval but she didn’t say anything. She leant on the railing next to him and he smiled at her distantly before looking back down at the city below. For a moment the clatter of the capital seemed to lull and Howard was suddenly aware of how raspy his breath was becoming in the icy air. His fingers were freezing too.
No wonder I’m not gripping my cigarettes; it’s not some cosmic sign, you git, it’s fucking freezing out here.
He wasn’t sure how long it was before Crystal softly patted his arm and disappeared back inside without a word. He felt her absence keenly though and he shivered as she closed the screen door behind her. Alone again he had time to bask in the strange suspended state everything had this high up. Down below everything rattled and clunked like crazy, but up here on the balcony nothing moved. Strangely, there wasn’t even a breeze or a snowflake to disturb the air. There was just him, puffing out smoke and shivering alone. It was a strange divide and he couldn’t work it out; was the divide between high up and low down, or was the divide between where he was and where the rest of the world was? He thought of Jason again and quickly stubbed out his cigarette.
And there’s the guilt again. For the smoking, I mean.
He stood a moment longer, poised to turn away but somehow unable to move. Moving would mean setting in motion all the plans for the day. The gig that was starting later than he realised and the plane that was leaving earlier than he wanted it to and the train timetable that didn’t seem to match up with anything. Crystal was still working on it, but he wasn’t hopeful.
But surely I could sit on a cold station platform if it was for Jay’s sake?
He pushed himself up off the railing and picked up his cigarettes and his lighter. In an attack of weakness he almost got out yet another cigarette, but he knew he had to get his head straight. Especially if he did get home tonight; he couldn’t smoke like this around Jay, even if Jay did know he was smoking again. It was one thing knowing, it was another thing watching your long-absent husband skip out on you during some much-longed-for together-time for the sake of a quick fag.
I will get home tonight. I will get home tonight and we’ll get back to normal again when the season is over. It’s all this bloody season. But I will get home tonight.
Chapter Nine
When Gary turned on his heel and headed back into the piano room he took a large gulp of his tea, fully expecting to be able to swallow it without spitting half of it straight back out on his shirt whilst choking on the other half. But it wasn’t the first time in his life that Gary had had his expectations dashed by reality. And he truly hadn’t been bargaining on Mark Owen; stood there bold as brass, looking around the shop with wide, scared eyes. His head snapped round as he heard Gary’s splutters and he watched in panicky silence as Gary tried to mop tea off himself.
“Gaz,” Mark breathed softly, surprised and already trying to back away.
Well who were you expecting? Winston Churchill? Michael Jackson? The Pope?!
“Mark,” Gary murmured back. He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t more barbed, more defensive. By rights it should be him who was standing looking shocked, maybe shouting, maybe throwing things...well, maybe not throwing things, not in here, that could damage the pianos. But regardless he did nothing. Instead he found himself falling for the startled look on Mark’s face, his own expression softening into something close to sympathy. He could see that Mark could feel it too; that weird sensation he had been aware of all this time. And he found it nice to see proof that he wasn’t going mad, that the shop really was different, the building really was straining and groaning and he really wasn’t imagining it all. It was traumatising if you thought about it too much – between the four of them they had made this building so happy and now they’d gone and spoilt it all.
“What happened?” Mark asked in a small voice. Gary blinked a couple of times.
Excuse me, shouldn’t I be asking you that question?! One whole fucking year, Mark!
“What do you mean?” Gary asked, his brain and his mouth no longer able to connect. His and Mark’s eyes roamed the room as Mark slowly came down the step, leaving the doorway and coming closer to the baby grand. His hand almost reached out to touch it then he pulled it back and strained to bring his eyes back to Gary.
“It just feels so different...it’s all...” he searched for a word. Gary knew it.
“Still,” he said, eyes going down to the floor. Mark nodded.
“And empty,” he added. Gary let out a long breath, rubbing a hand over his face. He put down his mug on the top of one of the pianos, ignoring the look of alarm the action provoked from Mark, and lowered himself tiredly onto a piano stool.
“And empty,” he echoed in agreement, his eyes looking Mark up and down. He was different too. He looked older somehow; not in an unflattering way, just in an ‘I’ve done battle with life and survived’ sort of a way. A blue cardigan of impractical proportions was hanging off his small frame, tired leather boots on his feet. It was all very weather-beaten. Gary suspected it to be mostly a trend-related wardrobe choice but a small part of him wondered if the trend happened to conveniently suite Mark’s mood.
“Where are they?” Mark asked and Gary almost jumped, realising he had been staring at Mark for longer than he had intended to. He frowned slightly at Mark’s question, genuinely puzzled.
“Who?” he sighed.
I’m the one who should be asking you all this rubbish, I’m the one you chose not to talk to for a year. More than a year, in fact.
“Jay and Howard,” Mark pressed, looking around as if they might leap out and start yelling at him at any moment. But nothing in the shop moved, because it never did anymore. Gary closed his eyes.
“Gone,” he replied, a tiny bud of sadness forming somewhere just beneath his skin.
“Gone?” Mark was incredulous, looking at him with dark eyes that glimmered dully.
“They went. Just me now,” Gary explained, swallowing the sadness with marginally less ease than usual. Mark was blinking in confusion now and he automatically flopped onto the baby grand’s stool, the use of his legs clearly gone, or at least greatly diminished.
“They went? Went where?!” he whispered. Gary shrugged.
“Away – didn’t sell up yet but...it’s just a matter of time,” he told Mark, trying not to look at him.
Why are we talking about Jay and Howard? Why aren’t we talking about what on earth you’re doing back here Markie?
“But...but why?” Mark stammered, raking a hand through his hair. Gary supposed he couldn’t bring himself to be angrier because he knew exactly how Mark was feeling. He’d been there, with the shock and the lack of comprehension. The first day at work without them...God, he’d been a mess.
“They had to go Markie,” he sighed.
“Had to? You mean...you mean you wanted them to? Did you fight with them?!” Mark looked up in alarm and suddenly his and Gary’s eyes met. Gary swallowed and looked away.
“I didn’t want them to, I never wanted them to but...nothing was the same. Them, me...this place,” he explained and Mark looked sadly down at his hands, rubbing his thumb nervously on his palm.
“Coz of me?” he asked and Gary paused a moment. It was true that Mark was the catalyst. After he left the atmosphere of the shop had changed. Jason hadn’t been able to help Gary through it either; he was still the caring friend Gary had always known him to be, but he refused to take control as he had done in the past. He didn’t say it but he felt that Gary needed to grow up just as badly as Mark did, he didn’t want to be so harsh when Gary was so low but Gary could see something in Jason’s blue gaze that told him Jason was finally at a loss. Gary and Jason had both known that it was up to Gary himself to sort himself out or he would never really be able to be ok.
“Coz of both of us. And coz of everything him and Howard went through living round here. But mostly? Coz Howard got a job. Not very dramatic but...I think that was mostly it,” Gary sighed.
“Tell me,” Mark replied and Gary looked at him. Telling him seemed a ridiculous thing to do; Mark was the one who owed Gary a detailed itinerary of his year. But somehow Gary found himself starting the story. He supposed that in order to put this meeting into context at all both of them would need to explain. And he might as well start – because after all, who knew whether he’d be in any fit state to talk when Mark had done saying whatever he had come to say.
He lowered himself down onto the bed, his eyes on Jason’s sleeping form. He could just define the outline of Jason’s face in the night time light that came through the window and he watched him sleep a moment, his brow furrowed in deep thought. Slowly he leant across, one hand barely resting on Jason’s arm, kissing Jason’s temple once then pulling back. Jason stirred, turning his head, and Howard watched him in silence. Jason’s eyes opened gradually, the dim glitter of them was almost black in the darkness, just a sliver of blue lit by the moonlight. Howard let Jason’s eyes meet his own and didn’t move but to pull back his hand from Jason’s arm.
“What’s wrong?” Jason whispered softly, his fingertips reaching out to gently touch Howard’s chest. Howard watched him a moment longer, not startled at Jason’s insight but a little dismayed that it had not been dulled by sleep. He smiled at Jason distantly, cupping his cheek and kissing his forehead. Jason’s brow creased beneath the kiss and Howard pulled back.
“Nothing. It’ll wait ‘til morning anyway,” Howard sighed, looking down, his fingers slipping away from Jason’s skin. Then it was Jason’s turn to watch. His gaze flicked away for a moment then tentatively returned to Howard’s face as he pushed himself up in bed. He was sitting cross-legged then, opposite Howard, on his level, a tiny smile on his lips.
“You woke me up breaking that glass anyway, so you might as well finish what you started,” he said, his voice soft and laced with just the right balance of mirth and concern.
“You heard that?” Howard asked with slight guilt, his eyes coming up to meet Jason’s.
“Course I heard it...has something happened How?” Jason replied.
“Not...not really,” Howard mumbled and Jason tilted his head.
“Then what is it?” he frowned. Howard bit his lip and took a deep breath. They were no longer touching now, just sitting opposite each other on the bed, Jason cross-legged, Howard with his legs tucked around so his body tilted slightly away from Jason’s.
“I got a call from this guy...he er...he books me quite a lot. He knows my priorities pretty well so he knows all the good times to get me,” Howard shrugged, his and Jason’s eyes meeting as he said ‘priorities’, causing both of them to smile with a coy sort of amusement before promptly looking away again. Jason moved his hand on top of Howard’s.
“And?” he pressed in a gentle voice that Howard couldn’t refuse.
“And...he wants to give me a permanent slot, pretty much take up residency in the biggest of his clubs. Then from that he wants to...well, he wants to talk to me about bringing me more into the other side of his business; the production company part of things,” Howard explained and no sooner had the words left his lips than Jason’s hand was on his cheek.
“But that’s perfect, surely? Before I messed everything up your only priority was getting into production,” Jason smiled and Howard laughed softly, his hand then going to Jason’s cheek so they sat in a mirror of each other.
“You changed everything but you messed up nothing,” he said sincerely. Jason’s eyes twinkled a little more blue in the darkness but he didn’t reply, instead he turned the focus back to Howard.
“If someone is offering you the best of both worlds, why aren’t you doing backflips?” he asked seriously and Howard squirmed slightly. They had stopped touching again now.
“Because last time I did backflips I hurt myself?” Howard suggested and Jason sighed.
“How, please,” he said and Howard groaned, looking down at the duvet. Jason reached across yet again and took his hand and eventually Howard looked back up into his eyes.
“This guy is based in Frankfurt,” he replied. A look of understanding crossed Jason’s face and, even though the light was poor, Howard knew him well enough to recognise it. In fact, he knew him so well that he could even spot the moment the realisation turned into consideration.
“Well then...then maybe we should go to Frankfurt,” he murmured at last. Howard stared at him for a moment, his grip on Jason’s hand tightening a little.
“But Jay what about...about you? About here? Grace and...and...our lives here I...I can’t damage that. It’s fragile enough as it is,” he admitted, shaking his head slightly. Jason moved closer to him, his hands either side of his face.
“It’s fragile because it’s already been damaged beyond repair, Howard. We’re not the same people we were last year, never mind when we first met. I’m not saying I’m miserable but...but I know it’s not the same. I was happy before in a different way – we all had something...I dunno, between the four of us. The music wasn’t the only thing, it was secondary if anything. And now it’s gone I feel like...like whatever that thing is that you search for in life before you settle down for good, that thing we had, it’s gone. Maybe we need to start looking again...I mean, if Mark doesn’t come back or...or if Gaz never manages to...” Jason faltered and his eyes left Howard’s.
“Jay,” Howard said gently, touching Jason’s chin with his fingertip. Jason’s eyes turned back up to him immediately making Howard’s breath catch slightly.
“You could have it; that thing, whatever it is, you could have it. You can keep pursuing that...that meaning that you want in your life. Things have already changed here, Howard, what’s a few more changes on the list?” Jason asked and Howard leant their foreheads together.
“Jay, I’m only going to be happier there than here if you’re happier there than here,” he said and Jason smiled, kissing him once on the lips then pulling back.
“I can’t promise that, love, you know I can’t...but I don’t think we can stay here much longer. So much has happened here that I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again, do you?” he asked.
“Maybe not. But it’ll always be home, won’t it? It was the start of our story, Jay,” Howard reminded Jason gently and Jason smiled, his thumb stroking the back of Howard’s hand.
“Our story?” he said, tilting his head once more.
“Every great romance has a story doesn’t it?” Howard countered and Jason shrugged.
“I don’t know...I think the really great ones, they don’t come in storybook form. I don’t think they start anywhere in particular either,” he replied honestly. Howard smiled, intrigued.
“They don’t start?” he asked and Jason shrugged once more.
“Really great romances just happen because the people happened,” he said.
“So they begin and end with the people?” Howard frowned and Jason looked into his eyes with a distant smile, starting to stroke his thumb along the back of Howard’s hand again.
“No, that’s not right either. Real romances don’t end,” he promised. Howard’s lips twisted up slowly into a smile and he slipped his hand free of Jason’s, bringing it up and tracing his finger under Jason’s chin until their faces were close once more. He captured Jason’s lips with his own and pulled him into a kiss. He closed his eyes and felt Jason’s thin form press against him, his arms slipping around his neck until the two of them were practically sitting on each other’s laps. Jason pulled back first and Howard was reluctant to open his eyes. But he did and when he did Jason’s eyes were shining just millimetres in front of his own.
“You’ll change your mind in the morning. You just think you’re dreaming now, in the morning you’ll change your mind,” Howard whispered but Jason narrowed his eyes.
“About which bit?” he questioned and Howard smiled ruefully.
“The Frankfurt bit,” he sighed and Jason shook his head.
“I won’t. About any of it,” he assured.
“Jay...” Howard murmured but Jason silenced him with a small kiss on the lips.
“We’ll talk in the morning, Howard,” he promised and, without another word, he shifted himself away from Howard, moving back to his side of the bed and climbing beneath the covers.
Jason had always been a man who was true to his word. Howard had known that when Jason had promised him he wouldn’t change his mind. But something in Howard was still a little surprised when he found himself repeating it all to Gary in the shop the next day. Gary, for his part, was also surprised. Mostly by the fact that it was Howard who was telling him. He had become extremely close to Howard of late. In fact he even dared to suspect that he was now more close with Howard than he was with Jason. It was strange but there seemed to be some long-buried part of him that identified with Howard, somehow Howard brought it out, almost as though he was reminding Gary of a person he had once had every intention of being but had forgotten somewhere along the line. But still, despite it all, he felt, deep down in the pit of his stomach, that it would have been right for Jason to be the one to tell him this. They had known each other so long, been together all that time. It was the end of an era and, since the era had been entered together, Gary rather felt it should be ended together too, though he wasn’t convinced that even made sense.
“And in the end, neither one of us could really deny there’d be advantages – I would have to travel so much less, I could afford to turn down more jobs if I had a permanent deal, you know? Jay wanted to talk it through with Justin and his mum and family first before we made it official. I’m not supposed to have told you really but...well, he knows I’m crap at keeping secrets,” Howard sighed, as though picking up on Gary’s muddled thoughts. Gary nodded slowly in reply and took a sip of his tea. Howard took a sip of his own tea and wrinkled his nose; he would usually have coffee but none of them had remembered to go shopping at the end of last week.
“You know...I think the universe is trying to tell us something,” Gary said at least, his blue eyes focusing on a point in the distance rather than on Howard.
“Like what?” Howard asked him with a frown and Gary shrugged.
“I don’t know...like...like it’s time to move on? It’s like it’s trying to tell us that this thing, this friendship, this team that the four of us built, was only temporary. It was just a holding pattern whilst we all grew up enough to move on and go our separate ways...discover whatever the real meanings of our lives are supposed to be,” he explained.
“What makes you think that?” Howard said, his head on one side. Gary looked back at him and smiled sadly.
“Well...would you believe, I had a phone call from Frankfurt last night too?” he asked and Howard raised his eyebrows, putting down his mug and pushing himself off the banister, coming to sit next to Gary on the stairs.
“Are there many piano-bars in Frankfurt?” he joked and Gary laughed softly.
“I have no idea – it wasn’t a business proposition, it was just a catch-up. A friend of mine from my...from Egypt,” Gary told Howard, his eyes slowly sliding from Howard’s down to his hands.
“An Egyptian in Frankfurt?” Howard’s voice was puzzled and Gary smirked slightly.
“No, no she’s German. She was working in Egypt for a while but she’s back home now, managed to get a job at some theatre in Germany that she worked at before she moved. Anyway, she’s mostly been at the mercy of friends and family with spare rooms since she got back, but the reason she called was that she’s finally got herself a flat. She’s going to get lodgers eventually but she wondered if I fancied a holiday in Germany. I turned it down but...” Gary trailed off.
“But maybe me and Jay could offer to be her lodgers?” Howard finished and Gary nodded.
“Maybe...I mean, it would save her having to interview people, I can vouch for you and Jay not being psychos and...well, it would also save you and Jay having to mess around trying to furnish your own place out there,” he added.
“Jay could keep the apartment here if we were just renting there...we could trial a year...get it sorted now we could be set up by November...” Howard seemed to lose himself in thought.
“I’ll give you her number and you can talk to Jay about it. Her name’s Monika...I’ll call her and put her on standby,” Gary told him and Howard nodded silently.
That was the last proper talk Gary had with Howard before he and Jason left. The pace with which everything changed was quite shocking really. One moment he was worrying about the fact he’d forgotten to stock up on coffee at the shop, the next he was saying a lengthy goodbye to Jason. And God that goodbye had been torture – for the both of them. He had spent their entire conversation on edge. He was terrified, Gary knew him well enough to know that. But they were all agreed; they were all quietly falling apart here and they needed to put an end to the disintegration.
Jason had a job at the theatre in no time, though Gary never quite understood what use a German theatre had for a procrastinating Mancunian. He flew out to visit them just before Christmas. Howard was some sort of rising star, as far as Gary could tell, and Jason...he seemed to be pleased enough just watching the star rise. When Gary returned he realised it was time to stop waiting for ‘normality’ to return. Everything was different and would stay that way. Jason and Howard were now nothing more than a distant part of his life, Mark was...Mark was probably gone entirely. He would need to remember how to take care of himself. And maybe, he hoped, learn how to take care of others along the way. It might come in useful one day, being a proper grown-up for a change.
“Wow,” Mark’s comment took a good five minutes to arrive. The monosyllabic utterance hardly registered to Gary, he was too busy replaying it all in his head. Jason’s protracted sigh before he had told Gary they were going seemed to be creeping across the floorboards and up the shop’s walls. Strangely, he found himself forgetting Mark was there at all.
“Look back but don’t stare,” he murmured to no one in particular, attracting the attention of Mark’s bright, round eyes. He pulled on the already-loose fabric of his cardigan and studied Gary’s face.
“What do you mean?” he ventured quietly and Gary’s head snapped up in surprise. He blinked and shook his head, his mouth opening and closing as he fished for words to explain where his mind had just wandered to. The echo of Jason’s sigh brushed past him again and he looked away from Mark.
“Just...I just wonder if everything looks like something of a nightmare when you look at it too hard. I don’t know. Maybe you shouldn’t look back at all, it never seems to do me much good,” he sighed and Mark tilted his head, his eyes creasing as though he had just stepped on a wasp.
“A nightmare?” he asked in a small voice. Gary closed his eyes and shook his head.
“I don’t mean...I just...there were so many mistakes and it always seemed like the world was ready to fall apart around our ears. This past year I’ve...I’ve realised some things about myself I can’t believe I was ever daft enough to ignore. With everyone else gone for good, I realised I needed to keep myself in check...and that I’m actually pretty good at doing so. People leave...but it’d be pretty hard to leave yourself. Look back but don’t stare,” Gary murmured. Mark swallowed.
“For good?” he whispered and Gary frowned.
“What?” he replied and Mark nervously looked up into his eyes.
“You thought I was gone for good?” he said and Gary froze. He had. He really had. He couldn’t deny it, but he desperately wanted to because Mark looked so very anguished.
I thought you were gone for good. Doesn’t mean I wanted you to be though.
“Yes,” he told him simply, dully. Mark’s face flushed with held-in tears and his body tensed. The pause was uncomfortable but neither one of them could break it.
“Maybe I...maybe I should then...go I mean...for good,” Mark stammered slowly.
Don’t.
“Why?” Gary managed to breathe out before Mark could get up. The question stopped him before he could pull himself up and whatever thread had been pulling him away seemed to be relaxed. The walls around them, however, tensed further and Gary found himself holding his breath with them.
“Why what?” Mark’s voice sounded small and strained.
“Why should you go for good?” Gary clarified.
That’s not what I meant to say. Spit it out. You might not want to hear it but...you need to know.
“Because you just...” Mark began.
“No,” Gary interrupted and Mark looked startled, finally bringing his eyes up from the floor.
“No?” he asked tentatively. Gary closed his eyes and took a steadying breath.
“That’s not what I meant I...I don’t think you should go. If you wanted to come here then you must’ve had a reason and I think...I think I’d like to know. Your reason I mean,” Gary stumbled through the sentence, his eyes on the ceiling the entire time. He was aware of Mark’s incredulous stare but he couldn’t bring himself to look for fear of backing out.
We have to hear things we don’t want to sometimes. And what was our relationship worth in the first place if neither one of us deems it worthy of a goodbye?
“Why am I here you mean?” Mark pressed and Gary nodded.
“Why are you here,” he repeated quietly. Mark’s turn to scan the room with his eyes. Not much was different about the room itself; there was no guitar in the corner and Mark was sure at least one of the old pianos had been sold. But still he couldn’t shake the feeling of damage. It was strange really; in the past it had never felt damaged, but the people inside had been. Now the people had fixed themselves the building seemed to have lost purpose. But were they really fixed or just works in progress? Jason and Howard gone...that wasn’t right, that wasn’t fixed. And then there was him and Gary. Maybe they had only been able to be together when they were broken, maybe now it was all wrong and he should run and not say anything. But Gary had asked...and Mark didn’t want to disappoint anyone anymore.
I’ve done enough disappointing people really haven’t I.
"I came back because I...I have so many things I need to explain, to tell you and I...I owe you so much honesty, because that’s more than you’ve ever had from me before. It’s just that...it’s all so messed up Gaz. And saying it is so hard but...I’m worried. Because I’ve done a lot of thinking and I’ve learned more about myself than I ever wanted to know and...the thing is...I wasn’t myself. I wasn’t myself for most of our time together. And...I don’t...I don’t think I was me when you loved me. And I s’pose the thing I really came to say, or rather...what I wanted to confess is that...I’m sorry, for so many reasons, but...I’m not the person that you loved.”
Chapter Ten
Monika didn’t look up as the door opened, she simply turned the page of her book.
“Bedroom,” she stated and Howard smiled, nodding silently and heading down the corridor. He opened the bedroom door slowly, quietly. The scene inside was warmth itself and a ripple of relief skimmed across Howard’s chest, eventually pulsing through him enough to reach his face until there was a daft grin on his lips and light bouncing about in his blue eyes. Jason was sitting cross-legged on the bed, tracksuit bottoms and Howard’s hoody on (Howard’s favourite outfit to see him in). The only light was the dim glow of the bedside lamp and the quiet glimmer of the Frankfurt night, but it was enough to send whispers of gold across Jason’s eyes as he lifted them from his book. Howard stopped, his hand losing grip on his bag and every strain of the long Christmas season momentarily sliding off his shoulders, thudding down to the floor with his bag as Jason’s lips turned up at the corners. The rush of love was immense.
“Evenin’ darlin’,” Jason smiled lightly and Howard chuckled, shaking his head.
“Evenin’ darlin’ y’self,” he echoed, sitting down on the bed heavily and taking Jason into his arms, pressing a kiss to his forehead then looking down into his eyes.
“I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow,” Jason said, his hand going to Howard’s cheek, brushing away a smudge of something Howard doubted was even there.
“I thought a pleasant surprise would make a nice change,” Howard replied with a shrug.
“Oh it does, believe me,” Jason whispered back, sitting up and planting a lingering kiss to Howard’s lips. Howard smiled and chose to pull Jason closer, extending the kiss further and burying his hand in Jason’s hair. It occurred to him, somewhere beneath the dull buzz the kiss sent through him, that this was a far better feeling than any cigarette break. A stupid thought but he let it linger.
I think that’s how I managed to quit before actually.
Jason pulled back and Howard found himself reluctantly following suit, his hand falling from Jason’s hair down to the back of his neck, his thumb stroking softly along Jason’s skin.
“So tell me, Jason Orange, am I better than you remembered?” Howard asked. And for a moment both of them were very aware of Jason wanting to remark sharply that no, he was not better, simply smokier...but not having the strength for a fight. Jason tilted his head slightly and sucked in a breath.
“So tell me, Howard Donald, what changed your mind?” he asked.
“The thought of you sitting all by yourself on this bed in that outfit?” Howard suggested and Jason narrowed his eyes, raising his finger to Howard.
“This outfit is for sleeping in,” he told him firmly but Howard pushed his nose against Jason’s.
“That’s why I want to get you out of it though,” he pressed and Jason pursed his lips.
“I thought you said that flight would be next to impossible to catch – how exactly did you manage to get here?,” he ploughed on, ignoring Howard’s slowly wandering hands.
“That was before, this is now. Crystal broke a few road laws for me is all. Now, will you please at least pretend you missed me,” Howard pouted slightly but Jason’s expression only grew stonier.
“I did miss you, I’ve spent most of these past few months missing you,” he muttered.
“Jay don’t be like that, I just want to make the most of my time off, you know that’s all,” Howard pleaded and for a moment Jason wavered. Yet again they were both very aware of Jason’s longing to avoid a fight; he didn’t want to fight and he didn’t have the strength to.
“You know me Howard, you know I missed you,” Jason whispered after a pause. Howard cupped his cheek and bent his head slightly to force Jason to look him in the eye again.
“Hey, come on, I know that. I’m only playing Jay, come on, gimme a smile,” he sighed. Jason closed his eyes and for a moment Howard thought that was it; the light was going off and Jason was going straight to sleep without a goodnight and they wouldn’t talk again ‘til morning, or maybe even the next night. But then Jason’s eyes opened and reluctantly met his own again.
“I don’t miss many other people but you, How,” he said quietly and Howard nodded.
“And I came back didn’t I?” he countered gently.
“Yeah, but apparently that was only coz you fancied a sha...” Jason began but he was cut off by Howard pushing him away and getting up from the bed abruptly.
“Just give it a rest will you, Jay! I missed you, I wanted to see you, I came home; why is that so awful?” Howard demanded, raking a hand through his hair and looking up at the ceiling.
“Howard, I just...” Jason tried but yet again Howard stopped him.
“I don’t ask much Jay, to be fair. I go out to all corners of fucking Europe for you and all I want in return is a bit of a warm welcome when I get home?” Howard pressed. Jason clenched his jaw then and looked away. There was silence for a moment until Jason looked back up at Howard.
“And I suppose I don’t do anything for you then? Only change everything?” he said, his voice raising ever so slightly, making Howard look around in surprise. As his eyes met Jason’s he saw tears just starting to form, but Jason would not let them fall.
Stubborn, prideful, beautiful little bastard. What am I doing to him?
“Jay, I didn’t marry the sort of bloke who changes everything for anyone,” Howard scoffed, though his eyes weren’t even half as dismissive as his words.
“I changed everything foryou, not for anyone,” Jason whispered.
“Come on Jay, this isn’t the you I married,” Howard insisted. Jason’s expression hardened and he sat up slightly, squaring his shoulders, eyes flashing silver.
“Then who exactly did you marry, Howard?” Jason demanded in too level a voice.
“I married you; I married Jason Orange! The guy who doesn’t back the fuck down and who always used to enjoy welcoming me home with a bit more style than this; one fucking kiss and you don’t want to give in to anything more?!” Howard shot back.
“What am I, your property?” Jason asked sharply.
“Well actually, legally, technically, yes, pretty much” Howard snapped and Jason froze. Something passed between the two of them, a shared moment of understanding, though neither of them quite knew what it was they both understood. The understanding that this had spilled over into something so much bigger? Jason’s eyes were glistening with what Howard thought at first was anger, but then he looked harder and he saw it was a new wave of tears. One escaped this time and traced a path down Jason’s cheek, but Jason didn’t even bother to wipe it away.
He always tries to wipe them away. Always.
“In that case I don’t think you married Jason Orange,” Jason murmured and Howard pulled a face. He had to look away, he had to retort, he had to defend himself against seeing Jason cry.
“Well who the fuck would you rather I be married to? Jason Donald? Couldn’t fucking get him though could I,” he managed to bite out at last.
Jason didn’t reply for too long. Howard slowly looked across at him; he was sitting there as if in shock, looking into middle-distance with glassy eyes, his lips parted ever-so-slightly.
“No...no I guess you couldn’t,” he breathed out slowly, his eyes raising to meet Howard’s. If Howard hadn’t been holding on to a certain level of misguided anger he probably would have noticed the tears had gone, replaced by something altogether more hollow. Something that had made Jason Orange Jason Orange had just been cut neatly out of him and carefully melted down. But Jason wouldn’t give him chance to see that; before Howard could process his own words, Jason stood silently and left the room. Howard didn’t even flinch until he heard the front door slam.
It took a whole minute for Howard to lower himself onto the bed. It took Monika mere seconds to appear in the doorway.
“What did you say?” she asked, her arms folded, the look on her face making it clear the two of them had been loud enough for her to know exactly what he’d said. Howard looked up at her slowly, his brow creased. Every instinct he had was still telling him to be indignant, even if his heart was trying to turn him against it.
This wasn’t my fault.
“I didn’t fucking say anything! What does it matter anyway? Let him have his tantrum, he’ll be back when he’s got over himself,” Howard mumbled, not able to look at Monika as he said it, already feeling the guilt starting to creep over him. He didn’t know what had just happened or why or even whose fault it was, all he knew was that he wished it hadn’t happened...although, somehow, he’d been expecting it would happen for some time now.
Monika’s expression had softened and when he eventually looked up she had let out a breath, her arms no longer folded.
“He didn’t take a coat – it’s snowing out there,” she tried.
“If he wants to freeze then let him, he’s perfectly capable of making his own choices,” he muttered back and she only just managed to restrain herself from slapping him. She understood...well, in a way. What she wasn’t sure of was how she could snap him out of this without getting too mean.
“Ok...but...but when was the last time you actually saw him eat a proper meal? Or even sleep more than two hours a time?” she asked him gently. There was a pause. Then Howard’s head snapped up.
“Fuck,” he half-hissed as he shot to his feet.
Fuck.
Monika only just had time to step out of his way as he rushed from the room, pulling his hat and coat back on as he went and careering towards the front door.
“You’re welcome,” she called after him, shaking her head as she returned to the sofa.
Howard flung himself out of the downstairs door with such force that he almost skidded into the middle of the road, but he managed to stop himself by clinging to a lamppost. He looked both ways down the street, expecting Jason to be miles away and hidden by shadows and snow flurries. Squinting against the snow and trying to make out footprints on the ground, he almost missed the bench. It was a short way down the street from their flat, set back slightly from the pavement and half in shadow. Jason was sitting on it, looking frail and small and all the things Howard never thought of him as. Half in the light, half in the dark, shivering in a way which was barely noticeable unless you knew him. Howard stopped still a moment, he could tell Jason hadn’t seen him and, for now at least, he wanted to keep it that way. There was a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach that the moment Jason saw him was the moment a dramatic chase through the streets would start.
But let him run. I’ll chase him – I don’t know much but I know I have to fight for him.
Eventually Howard pushed himself off the lamppost, shoving his hands in his pockets and doing his best to stroll. He had never realised how difficult effortlessness was before and he felt sure his walk was jerky and unsteady. It carried him closer though and, to his surprise, Jason didn’t run. He didn’t look up either, but he didn’t run. He just watched his hands, fiddling with his ring thoughtfully, watching snowflakes melting on his ring finger and then slowly turning his palms upwards to catch them as they fell. Howard stopped still once more, a little further from the bench than he would normally have stopped. He was still cautious. If there was one thing he always expected from Jason it was resistance.
Stubborn. But then, isn’t that our codeword when we run out of ways to say ‘I love you’?
Tentatively Howard cleared his throat, his eyes looking Jason up and down one more time. Jason wouldn’t raise his eyes, but he stilled under Howard’s gaze. He knew who and he knew why – there was no need to look.
“Evenin’ darlin’,” Howard said softly. Howard couldn’t decide if it was just the snow, but he was sure he saw something glimmer briefly in Jason’s eyes, though still he wouldn’t lift his face.
“Evenin’ darlin’ y’self,” Jason murmured back. Howard smiled sadly.
“Jay...” Howard began but Jason closed his eyes at the sound.
“Don’t,” he pleaded and Howard frowned.
What does he think I’m going to say?
“Look can we...can we start again?” he tried.
“Howard I don’t...” Jason trailed off, his eyes turning skyward.
“You must be freezing...come on, come inside,” Howard offered.
“No,” Jason stated adamantly, his eyes suddenly looking at Howard, a flash of what Howard was more used to – just a small glimpse but it was there.
“Will you take my coat then?”Howard suggested softly. Jason’s expression wavered, his eyes faded slightly and he looked away, edging back into the shadow. The half-light caught his profile and Howard traced the outline of light with his eyes, trying to find what had happened to that brief moment of fighting spirit, of pig-headedness.
Of Jason Orange.
“I don’t just give control. I’ve never just given people control,” Jason murmured at last and Howard’s brow creased. He took a cautious step closer.
“Jay...” he began but Jason shook his head slowly so Howard closed his mouth and stilled. Jason’s eyes were on his hands again, he was playing with the ring, catching more snowflakes.
“I suppose I changed the rules for you. I suppose I changed, full stop. I’m not the same person I was when we met, you know? You’re not either. We became people who love and...and it grew us up...and life grew us up,” Jason said quietly, slowly easing his ring from his finger and turning it over in his hand. Howard’s breath held a moment, then Jason slid the ring back on and he couldn’t stop the corner of his lip twitching up briefly in relief.
“I can’t make it right if I don’t know what’s wrong, Jay,” Howard managed at last.
“Have you heard a word I’ve said these past few months?” Jason asked him suddenly.
“What?” Howard frowned and Jason smiled sadly.
“Guess not,” he murmured. The ring was slid off once more.
Put it back on. Put it back on.
“Jay, please,” Howard whispered. He wasn’t sure if he was even talking about the conversation; his eyes were only on the ring. Jason paused a moment then silently slid the ring back on. Howard felt his heart stutter back to life.
“I put locks on the door and I had the keys cut and I gave all of them to you and I never thought you’d use them...” Jason was talking so distantly Howard was slightly unsure if he was supposed to respond or not.
“Jay...” he began but Jason didn’t even flinch.
“I don’t speak the language, can’t understand the TV, I have no friends of my own, I wait for you every night, I can’t tie you down to any day or time, I let you have your way so you don’t leave sad or angry, I don’t fight in case it spoils whatever time we have, I don’t stand my ground on anything, I don’t mention the fact your kisses taste of nothing but smoke these days and I...I lost myself...you’re right, that’s not the man you married. And yet I never did relinquish my name...my last and only safeguard failed somewhere...” he continued and Howard winced.
“I never wanted it anyway, never needed it. I didn’t mean what I said before, you know I didn’t,” he interjected. And suddenly Jason looked up and met his eyes properly. No tears. No anger. No light. Just a glassy and glimmerless grey. Howard couldn’t blame the snowflakes for that, he was close enough to see everything now but he didn’t like seeing everything when everything was...well, nothing.
“I was back in that room, Howard. I was back in that fucking room and there was nothing I could do about it,” Jason whispered. The tears that had been in his eyes earlier had migrated to his throat and the sound made every muscle in Howard’s body tense. It hurt. He wanted it to hurt though, he felt it had to, it needed to.
“I...I don’t under...” he stammered but Jason shook his head, turning his eyes upwards again. Tears were forming, Howard could see the faint shimmer of them in the half-light.
I need better words. My words aren’t good enough for him and never have been. Please don’t cry...
“The one time in my life I didn’t choose who had control was when I was in that room,” Jason half-choked and realisation crept into Howard’s face.
“Emily...” he breathed. Jason didn’t react, still looking up at the sky to prevent the tears falling.
That’s Jason Orange.
“I’ve been reliving it Howard, every single day I...I feel it. I can remember it. No choice, no place to go...because...I couldn’t leave that room and I can’t leave this country...not without you I can’t. But that’s the thing, you know? I was back in that room, only...only it was worse because it was you who was keeping me there. It was you, Howard. And you are the only person I’ve ever willingly trusted with the power to lock me in...coz I never thought you’d actually use that key,” Jason whispered at last. Howard’s lips parted slightly. He was close to tears himself – because that whole time, that sensation of falling...he’d known and he hadn’t let himself care.
I knew. I knew what I was doing. And I knew he would let me do it. So I did it.
“Oh Jay...” he breathed at last. Jason closed his eyes and turned his head away. Howard had never thought the sound of his voice would do that to Jason and he hated it.
“Howard, just leave it,” Jason said quietly, refusing to turn back, refusing to open his eyes. But Howard hardly heard him – for once for all the right reasons.
“Oh Jay...I...I am so...you’re right. You’re right. You’re always right. If I could...if could only be better then maybe I’d not make mistakes when it came to you. I think a better man would make fewer mistakes but...me? I’m just some tit who doesn’t listen. I didn’t hear a word that you said. I was enjoying myself, I suppose. Smelling the roses, ignoring the thorns, that sort of crap. I was hanging with my friends, slowly getting out of my head until I didn’t hear you at all. And I was just...having fun. If I could take it back, Jay...if I could take your blows for you, if I could find a way of fixing all the things that I broke since coming into your life...then I would, you know? If I could. I would, for you I...it’s never been about control or a name or...I know I messed it up again. I should’ve listened, I should’ve...I should’ve...been more or...stopped and thought more. I’m always trying to be your hero or...or something, but I never get it right, you know? I just...I wish I could understand...how I ended up here, how we ended up here...oh Jay...please...forgive me?” Howard was all but whispering now. He wasn’t sure how he dared but he raised his eyes from the ground. Jason was looking at him again. His ring was on. His eyes were bright, not entirely blue but shining at least. Jason watched him and Howard swallowed his breath. His hand was splayed open at his side, his fingers stretched out in Jason’s direction.
“Don’t I always forgive you?” Jason’s voice cut the silence at last, his eyelashes damp but his eyes now dry. It could have been a shadow, but Howard was sure he saw a smile, albeit small.
“If I could try to change I...” Howard began and Jason shook his head slightly.
And that was definitely a smile then.
“Don’t change who you are...I love you because of that, not despite of it,” he sighed and his eyes turned away again.
“What about you though?” Howard asked slowly.
“Me?” Jason’s voice was thin but Howard dismissed that as being down to the cold air, if only to force himself to carry on. He’d put things off enough. They both had.
“You said you changed...and you know, I think you did try to. And I think it hurt. And I think that because it hurt you would try and suspend it. Pause the eating, pause the sleeping...pause the smiling. If you don’t live you can’t grow up...you can’t change...you can’t hurt. It’s just, the thing is, I love you Jay, I love you and I’ve run out of ways to tell you I love you coz the only ways left are clichés. And you are worth so much more than any fucking cliché. I do love you though, love the bones of you, truth be told. And I can’t keep on letting you pass me by, I can’t let you help me play pretend anymore. I love you – it’s a truth that means more to me than whatever other hurtful, scary shit you know to be true as well,” Howard pressed. Again both men froze, staring each other down.
Eventually Jason swallowed, his eyes closed again as he turned his head. When his eyes opened Howard was a step closer, his stare bright in the shadows. Jason pushed himself up off the bench and walked over to the edge of the pavement, trying to step out of Howard’s gaze. But Howard turned with him, his eyes following him.
“I’m sorry too,” Jason murmured at last without turning round.
“You don’t have to be...it’s my mess,” Howard sighed but Jason shook his head.
“No. Our whims affect each other, don’t they? And my whim was to pretend. Pretend and hope you’d see through it but...that’s still pretending. Lying. I was sitting on the fence I suppose. Slowly going out of my head but trying not to let anyone see. It’s not so much that I wanted to pretend...I don’t think I did. I don’t think I really knew the truth myself though...I wanted to know what I was feeling coz...coz I hadn’t felt at home in Manchester for so long, it was all too different, you know? And I thought maybe if Manchester, somewhere I’d known the same way all my life, could change from home to...to whatever it was becoming...then maybe this country could change too? From not home to...to where I wanted to be. I wanted the truth to just be there. I wanted the truth of what I felt and I couldn’t work it out, you know? But the truth is hard to find when it’s playing tricks with your mind like that. And for the record? I don’t think I heard a word you said either, if I’m honest...and I should be honest. Can you forgive me? Or...at least...will you forgive me?” Jason asked softly.
Howard smiled but didn’t reply and, as the silence dragged on, Jason looked over his shoulder nervously. Howard had crossed the small gap between them and was standing right behind him; Jason felt the coat being slipped over his shoulders before he really realised what was happening. Howard’s arms wrapped around him swiftly, engulfing him in much-needed warmth, his stubble scratched his cheek slightly as he rested his chin on his shoulder, his lips right by Jason’s ear.
“Oi gorgeous, get over here and kiss my fucking face off would you?” Howard whispered and a slow smile crept up onto Jason’s lips.
“Your fucking face?” he questioned.
“You heard me,” Howard’s voice was gravelly and warm as he gave Jason a firm squeeze. Jason closed his eyes a moment, smiling as he let months of tension disperse before turning around in Howard’s embrace. He wrapped his arms around Howard’s neck and he hugged him tight. Howard responded by tightening his grip around Jason, one arm firmly around his waist, the other pressing on his back, his hand clutching gratefully at the back of Jason’s neck. They stayed that way a long time.
Or it might just have been seconds, I wasn’t counting. I was too busy holding him – as loosely as possible. He could’ve run away if he’d wanted. And he knew that, so he didn’t try.
“I love you,” Jason mumbled sleepily after a while. Howard kissed his cheek.
“Come on darlin’, I think it’s probably time for bed, don’t you? And yes, I mean bed. With pillows and duvets and lots of sleep,” he smiled and Jason pulled back, his eyes suddenly alive again.
“You can have a hug if you want though,” he offered gently and Howard smiled.
“I might just take you up on that. Oh, and for whatever it’s worth, I love you too,” he replied. Jason kissed him once on the lips then pulled back and held his gaze a moment.
“I know. I always knew,” he said.
Chapter Eleven
“I’m not the person that you love,” Mark’s voice didn’t seem to carry any weight in the December air and for a moment Gary convinced himself that the only thing he had heard was a creaking floorboard. But then his eyes took in Mark’s. And he couldn’t even pretend. In his head it was like old footage of tower-blocks being demolished was playing in slow motion; building after building just crashing out of the skyline and descending into dust. But outside his head it was the lack of anything crashing down that surprised him the most. No dramatic music swelled, no part of the floor shook, the shop didn’t tumble to its side. It was just him and Mark, sitting across the room from each other, not speaking.
“Oh,” Gary managed at last.
‘Oh’?! God, I fucking missed Gaz...
Mark smiled slightly and Gary watched his self-conscious chuckle with fascination. They watched each other a moment, but when each man spotted the other looking they both quickly dropped their eyes. Mark’s smile faded a little and he swallowed.
“I think this is the bit where you scream and shout and kick me down the street,” he said quietly and Gary narrowed his eyes in thought.
“Yes, I think maybe it is. I won’t though,” he replied. Mark’s lips twitched – the beginnings of a smile – but he closed his eyes.
“I don’t deserve to be let off the hook you know Gaz, I was such a fucking mess...those past few years especially I...I just became someone else. When I needed to be that guy, I was...it was so useful, you know? Stopped me ever having to take anything in. The constant change, the moving, the...well, the idiocy really. And I mean, now I look at it, it was idiocy. It’s true that you can’t run forever,” Mark murmured. Gary nodded absently. He picked up the mug of tea and took a sip then seemed to a do a double take. He stared at the mug for a long time – or it felt like a long time to Mark – then he looked up. He looked between Mark and the mug and shook his head.
“I’m using your mug,” he stated at last and Mark laughed nervously.
“Does it matter?” he asked and Gary looked taken aback. He stared at Mark.
What did I say? He looks hurt...he looks more hurt than when I was talking about us...he’s more upset over a mug than me?!
“Well...I thought it mattered,” Gary muttered self-consciously and put the mug down again.
“I am sorry you know,” Mark said after a moment.
“What for?” Gary replied and Mark was a little surprised to find he didn’t have an answer ready. He couldn’t make out Gary’s tone; was he genuinely confused or was this his way of showing his anger?
“Everything I suppose,” Mark shrugged and Gary nodded slowly.
“Everything is a good place to start,” he agreed and Mark’s brow creased.
“I should go,” he sighed, convinced Gary’s strange mood was his fault and desperate for it to stop. But Gary looked over at him quickly and his blue eyes were shining fiercely. They rendered Mark incapable of any movement. He had almost forgotten the expressiveness of that face; Gary had one of those faces that, most of the time, made you utterly sure of exactly what he meant. You could see the strain in his cheeks when he was dead-panning as he tried to hide the mirth, you could see the slight crease just between his eyebrows when he was trying to remember something. But for some reason, in that moment, Mark couldn’t make out Gary’s emotions. He just knew he couldn’t leave.
God knows what he’s thinking but I know it isn’t ‘Go’.
“You could’ve said that without having to leave for all that time,” Gary remarked into the silence.
“No,” Mark replied simply.
“No?” Gary questioned. Mark leant forward, bringing his palms to his face. He covered his nose and mouth and sucked in a breath, his elbows now leaning on his knees. Gary watched him move and he remembered always thinking Mark was such a fidget. Even now, when almost every muscle in Gary’s body tensed, Mark just couldn’t sit still. As if to prove him right Mark sat back up, leaning back and tilting his face up to the ceiling, eyes closed.
“It’s not like that though Gaz...I didn’t want to leave I just...I felt like I had to,” Mark whispered. He didn’t want to say it, it was too much like telling Gary off.
And I have no right to tell him off for anything.
“You had to go away to work out you didn’t love me?” Gary asked. The panic in his voice was so instantly apparent that Mark’s eyes snapped open in a flash.
“I never said that Gaz...I never...that’s not what I...” he stammered. Gary’s brow creased in confusion and Mark let out a groan. This was why he hadn’t wanted to do this; he could plan what he wanted to say to Gary a million times over – and he had – but he couldn’t have known how Gary would react or feel or take in his words. And he wasn’t taking his words in the way Mark needed him to.
To hell with the plan, just let him know, just explain.
“What have you been doing? All this time...no call, no letter...not even to Jay. Jay was worried, you know? He asked around after you. Never told me but...I think he did manage to track you down,” Gary was rambling now and it almost made Mark smile.
“God, what have I been doing? Does it matter?” Mark asked.
Does it matter. Those words again.
“Everything matters. To me it matters. I’ve been sat here on me bill all year...and it all started with...with you,” Gary sighed.
“Please Gaz, I swear it doesn’t matter,” Mark insisted. He hadn’t wanted the conversation to go there, he didn’t want to tell Gary where he had been staying. Not everywhere he’d been staying anyway.
But how exactly is it putting things right if I’m still keeping things hidden from him?
“Tell me,” Gary said firmly and Mark licked his lips thoughtfully. He knew he had to tell him. And he knew that, even if he stalled by telling him about his times with Emma and Jamie and his family, it was going to sting. Sting him and sting Gary. Probably sting the building too, coz goodness knew the building was charged with tension now.
“I stayed with Rob,” Mark said the words as quickly as possible, hoping if he said it quick enough then it would suddenly become less of a big deal.
“Rob,” Gary echoed emptily. Not a question. Not a yell. Not a tearful whisper. Just a statement. Mark risked a glance up at Gary but Gary wasn’t looking at him. He was looking down at the floor, his eyebrows quirked just slightly. He was thinking about something.
God knows what. I hope he’s not thinking me and Rob are...
“He helped me put stuff back into perspective...when I tried to chicken out he made me come...” Mark felt as though he was trying to justify it, though everything in Gary’s expression told him he didn’t need to. His face was far from soft but...there was no anger there.
“The whole year?” Gary asked. Mark wasn’t sure why he wanted to know but he decided telling him couldn’t hurt.
“Three months. I did a lot of other stuff...it’s just...I think...I think it was talking to Rob and...seeing bits of my story in his story that really made me work things out. You know he said...he said that the bit we were all getting wrong, the bit we got stuck on every time, was the feeling we were raised on, that unshakable belief that our lives would have meaning eventually. I mean real, impact-on-the-world meaning. He was like that, I was too...I think maybe you were. That became the important thing. And when things went wrong with any one part of our life, we put it down to that part of our life not being the one to concentrate on. Dismiss it, move on, find the thing we were destined for, y’ know?” Mark said and Gary smiled an odd, distant smile. Not sad, not elated.
Understanding.
“Yeah. I think I know,” he agreed softly.
“You do?” Mark asked, a little surprised. Gary nodded slightly but didn’t look up.
“Yeah. I...I always felt, even in my darkest, most insecure moments, I was just waiting in some big cosmic holding pattern. But now? Well. This past year I think I realised I can be happy without the whole world knowing my name. I have my music...I could’ve done with my mates back maybe...could’ve done with you back maybe...but still. Can’t have everything,” Gary murmured and Mark tilted his head to one side.
“You wanted me back? After the way I left?” he was incredulous. Gary shrugged slightly awkwardly.
“I thought you just said you had to go though? If you had to then...” Gary trailed off and Mark bit his lip, closing his eyes and turning his head away guiltily.
“I know but...well...when I left it was...it was sort of a case of...well, I was trying to prevent you getting sick of my messes and my moping and...I just thought I’d go before you left me,” Mark said to the floor. Gary sighed.
“Another of Robbie’s insights?” he asked quietly and Mark took another deep breath.
“Kind of. We talked a lot, you know? We have a lot in common...although he’s more like you in a lot of ways. But then, he also has enough hang-ups to make Jay look sane. Maybe Rob’s just a bit of everybody...maybe that’s his problem,” Mark smiled slightly.
“I wouldn’t have left you,” Gary remarked suddenly and Mark blinked.
“Really?” he asked and Gary frowned at himself.
“I...I don’t think so,” he said slowly and Mark sighed.
“There was so much damage done Gaz...I wanted...I wanted to sort it out before it came back to hurt me. But...well, self preservation is no explanation for anything really. It just seemed right at the time,” he admitted. Gary nodded and a silence fell upon the two of them.
I thought he’d be angrier than this. I didn’t think he’d listen to me this way. Put up with me. God, he always puts up with me. He always has to be the strong one, poor bastard.
“So it wasn’t you I loved? The entire time?” Gary murmured. Mark looked at his hands.
“Not the entire time I suppose...it wasn’t always shit. It just got to the point where the shit outweighed everything else,” he replied.
“You see...the funny thing is, I don’t think it was me either,” Gary said after a beat and Mark looked up in confusion.
“What?” he frowned and Gary smiled that odd smile again, his lips parted a little and his eyebrows slightly quirked as though he was amazed by something.
“You know, when you’re left on your own in this place and suddenly all your little routines and habits get whisked out from under you, you start to realise what a prat you’ve been. I spent so long wallowing...in the past, when bad stuff happened, I’d just let myself dwell on it and vegetate and expect the people around me to pick up the pieces. And when I wasn’t falling apart, I was trying to be something bigger and better than what I was, bigger and better than everyone and everything. I think that was partly confidence...coz I do know I am a confident person. And it was partly me trying to make up for all the wallowing too. And it occurred to me this past year that all that...it was such a waste. The wallowing...it was pathetic. Because, you know something Markie, I rather enjoy sorting things out? Taking charge, playing that role of organiser. But I don’t enjoy it in the same arrogant way I used to...I don’t think I do anyway. I want to take things on board, I want to...I want to be in control but I want everything that’s going on around me to actually be a part of my choice. But when we were together...I don’t think I had a fucking clue,” Gary explained. Mark smiled slightly.
“You learnt all that in a year?” he asked with tentative playfulness. And, to his great relief, Gary smiled back, his eyes equally light.
“Eh, it was a bloody long year,” he teased back. For a moment they looked at each other with lightly laughing smiles.
I shouldn’t be able to laugh. I shouldn’t be allowed to laugh. He should be strangling me or throwing things at me or...well, I’m glad he’s not.
“So you weren’t you and I wasn’t me...” Mark whispered as their smiles faded. Gary pursed his lips.
“No...I guess not,” he replied.
“I really did love you though, even when everything got really messed up...I loved you,” Mark sighed.
“Yeah. And I really did love you too,” Gary agreed. Mark almost smiled.
“Where does that leave us then?” he asked, resting his chin on his hand and leaning slightly on the piano. Gary mirrored his pose thoughtfully.
“God, I wish I knew Markie...but I think this is probably the first time in a long time where I don’t think I’m in any position to take control. You were the one who left, you’re the one who should know the next move,” he shrugged and Mark smiled a small, faintly amused, smile.
“You did sort of just take charge there you know,” he grinned, his face glowing briefly.
“Told you Marko, I’m a new man,” Gary chuckled.
Five minutes of silence passed. Not awkward silence, not strained or tense or angry. Not any of the things Mark had expected to find when he had come here. The silence wasn’t even still – which was strange given the all-pervading stillness that had been dwelling in that shop for so long – it was a silence filled with a swirl of dust, as if someone had gone through blowing on the tops of all the bookcases. Mark chewed his lip and Gary looked into his tea.
No biscuit – I did notice. He really is a new man.
Suddenly Mark sat upright on his piano stool and when Gary looked across at him he could see sparks of every colour imaginable dancing across Mark’s eyes. A refreshing change from the nervous grey they had been since Mark had first returned to his doorstep. Gary watched the multicoloured sparks bounce back and forth with increasing intensity until suddenly Mark bobbed up, all life and action. He smiled a smile at Gary that Gary knew so well, a smile Gary had missed so much. The sort of smile that sent a fresh swirl amidst the dust and lifted Gary’s slumped shoulders. And then, without a word, Mark walked out of the room.
Gary sat blinking, confused. He didn’t hear the shop’s bell, but he couldn’t hear Mark’s footsteps on the floorboards either. He sat up straighter and looked through the door to the shop-floor. And that was when Mark came bounding back in. There was a slight bob in his step, just as there always had been, but there was still a slightly jaded crease around his eyes as he smiled. He walked purposefully down the small step and across the room, bypassing the piano stool and heading straight towards Gary. His clothes were the clothes of someone older, someone who’d seem more of the world. His face had a similar quality to it. There was a small gold cross around his neck and less styling to his hair. He thrust his hand towards Gary and smiled with polite brightness.
“My name is Mark Owen, born in Oldham, taller than I look, smoke more than I should but at least I’m trying to cut down my drink, I can play guitar and piano and I would go insane without music, I do like fashion and I do take my clothes seriously, I used to think I wanted fame and fortune then realised it was too much hard work, when I laugh I tend to distract people a lot but I can’t help it that I get the giggles easily, people say I’m in my own world sometimes and I probably am, I love sugar and will add it to almost anything, I enjoy giving to people (time, company, presents, you know the stuff) but sometimes I give too much and I don’t remember myself...I’ve been a bit of a prat in the past and I’ve made a mess of my life, but I’m working on putting it right...and I’m absolutely delighted to meet you,” Mark babbled, quick and bright and infectiously hopeful. All the things Gary remembered loving about Mark.
The important stuff hasn’t changed then.
Mark’s eyes scanned Gary’s face and then scanned all of him up and down. It was as though he was properly looking at him for the first time since he had arrived. Gary had changed too, he noted. He was thinner, for a start. His eyes seemed to shine more too; it seemed to be a side-effect of the greater certainty with which he carried himself. His shoulders were squared more, his face lighter somehow. Stubble still grazed his cheeks though. And Mark was sure the striped jumper Gary had on had been a gift from him two Christmases back. Gary’s lips slowly curled up into a smile. The Barlow smile was what Mark knew that to be. The Barlow smile that provoked in Mark a very Owen smile.
That Owen dazzle. Razzle dazzle – we always had the showbiz gene in common!
Slowly Gary slid his hand into Mark’s, meeting Mark’s eyes.
“Gary Barlow...wannabe piano-man, born in Frodsham, don’t smoke but am making no effort at all to cut back on my drinking, good old-fashioned Northern charmer, tendency to boss people around, self-confessed musical genius with a flair for stand-up comedy (honest, I’ll have you in stitches given a chance), love giving too but a bit better at stopping, I actually enjoy working hard and working well, what many would call dull but my friends don’t seem to mind, cheesy (dreadfully cheesy, I must warn you, and sentimental too, I’ll cry at anything) and I can often be found sitting at that lovely piano over there pretending it’s the O2 arena...and that’s about it. Well, other than one small detail...” Gary beamed and Mark swallowed, suddenly nervous.
“Small detail?” he asked. Gary’s smile broadened.
“Well I...I’m absolutely and totally in love with you...still...” he smiled.
“Still?” Mark grinned, all excitement once more.
“Still,” Gary agreed swiftly, making Mark laugh.
“Well that all sounds great, Mr.Barlow...but can I just ask, is there any chance you’d let me add one more thing to my introduction?” Mark replied.
“Be my guest, Mr.Owen,” Gary agreed.
“My name is Mark Owen, born in Oldham, taller than I look, smoke more than I should but at least I’m trying to cut down my drink, I can play guitar and piano and I would go insane without music, I do like fashion and I do take my clothes seriously, I used to think I wanted fame and fortune then realised it was too much hard work, when I laugh I tend to distract people a lot but I can’t help it that I get the giggles easily, people say I’m in my own world sometimes and I probably am, I love sugar and will add it to almost anything, I enjoy giving to people (time, company, presents, you know the stuff) but sometimes I give too much and I don’t remember myself...I’ve been a bit of a prat in the past and I’ve made a mess of my life, but I’m working on putting it right, I’m absolutely delighted to meet you and...and I am still totally in love with you too,” Mark breathed. Gary nodded thoughtfully, smiling and tightening the handshake.
“So you won’t mind if I kiss you right now then?” he asked casually and Mark laughed.
“Mind?! It would be the highlight of my fucking year!” he told Gary brightly and Gary needed no more cue; he tugged on Mark’s hand and pulled him down into his lap, capturing his lips with ease. Neither one of them had any clue if that fixed anything, neither one of them was quite sure they had apologised well enough or explained themselves clearly enough. But they both knew for sure they were the people they wanted to be, had always hoped they could be. And it had no effect on the way each felt about the other.
“Guess it’s possible to grow-up apart but still be in love together,” Gary mused absently and Mark smiled, leaning his forehead against Gary’s.
“Or maybe it’s possible to grow-up together by being in love whilst apart,” he suggested and, chuckling, Gary gave his nose an affectionate kiss.
Chapter Twelve
The first thing he was aware of was the three shades of orange the room was cast in by the dim bedside lamp which lit it; it was just about all he could make out through his eyelashes and it was enough to make him close his eyes a moment longer, savouring the way the pillow scrunched softly beneath him. That was the deepest sleep he had had in months, of that he was sure, and as he lay there he slowly tried to unpick the reasons. He could feel Howard’s coat still partially covering him as well as the duvet and his lips quirked into a small smile. He wondered at the fact he had managed to sleep so well in a room that, just a few hours ago, had hosted such a dangerous fight. And it had been dangerous – if Howard hadn’t followed him...he wasn’t sure where he would have gone, but wherever it was it wouldn’t have helped him. Nowhere could. What he had needed was Howard’s apology. And what Howard had needed was not, as Jason had feared, Jason Donald. It was the sort of truth only Jason Orange could give him.
And an apology for being daft enough to try and hide that truth.
Somehow he had known though, even as he was running out of the door he had known. Perhaps that was why he had only gotten as far as the bench – he had known running wouldn’t fix things and he had known that Howard wouldn’t have let things remain unfixed. They were as tenacious as each other and both were attached to the notion of resolution. There was no way Howard would have let Jason disappear over a few words he had never even meant. For a moment Jason had thought he had stopped on that bench because Howard wanted him to stop. But now, looking back on it with greater clarity and Howard’s words in his head, he could see the truth of the entire thing; Howard may have wanted him to stop, but essentially that was irrelevant. Jason had wanted Howard to want him to stop. So he had stopped.
I felt like he was trapping me before, but now I look at it I know I wasn’t exactly putting up a fight.
Slowly Jason pushed himself up in bed, Howard’s coat falling from him. He looked around and stifled a yawn. When Jason had fallen asleep Howard had been by his side, one arm arching protectively around the back of Jason’s pillow as if to try and ward off all the many thoughts that usually pervaded his husband’s sleep and prevented his rest, but now Howard was sitting on the edge of the bed, his back slightly hunched over something. Jason untangled himself from the duvet, pushing himself across to sit just behind his husband, his arms slowly wrapping around his middle. He placed a kiss to the crook of Howard’s neck then rested his chin on his shoulder. Howard smiled slightly as he felt Jason’s body press against his own, but he continued to look down at what he was doing; taking cigarettes from a packet one by one, breaking each then throwing them into a bin at his feet.
“What time is it?” Jason asked, yawning again.
“Half three I think, just about. I thought you wanted your rest,” Howard replied without pausing.
“I did...believe it or not that was the best sleep I’ve had in ages, even if it was just a couple of hours,” Jason told him honestly.
“I didn’t wake you did I?” Howard asked him and Jason smiled at his concern.
“No. Although, if you don’t mind me pointing this out, this looks like an incredible waste of money,” he remarked, stretching up slightly to peer over Howard’s shoulder and into the bin.
“Necessary waste though. It’s quite therapeutic actually,” Howard said softly, throwing another cigarette into the bin as he spoke. He paused a moment to glance at Jason then, with a small smile, he turned back to take another cigarette from the pack.
“Fair enough. Mind if I help?” Jason asked and Howard shrugged.
“Sure, just grab a pack from the side,” he answered, nodding to a pile of cigarette packets on the bedside table. Jason glanced over and raised an eyebrow before reaching over and gabbing one.
“Christ love, how many a day were you on?” he remarked as he moved himself round to sit next to Howard on the bed. Howard chuckled slightly shyly, glancing up at Jason briefly to make sure he wasn’t wrong about the note of humour he had thought he heard in his words. Jason’s eyes glittered slightly as they met Howard’s and he knew he had been right. Jason quirked his eyebrows once more to try and prompt Howard’s response and Howard looked down, shrugging and taking another cigarette from the pack as Jason tossed one into the bin.
Come on Donald, shock me.
“Honestly? I think I just decided I would rather smoke fifty cigarettes before lunch than have one later and have to fight with you,” Howard admitted quietly. Another cigarette was tossed in the bin. Jason paused, looking at Howard carefully, before reaching across and touching a hand to his cheek.
“That’s almost sweet...in all the wrong ways,” he murmured and Howard let out a small chuckle, looking down from Jason’s gaze.
“Well, doesn’t that just sum us up?” he sighed. Jason’s eyes were glittering again now, Howard could tell without looking up. They were dancing with neither mirth nor joy but something else, something Howard had always seen in those eyes. Even in the worst times he had seen it there. When Jason looked at him that way he almost felt like the hero he always wanted to be for him. Almost. Though he dared suspect he was actually something better than that for being the sole owner of that look.
“Now I know you don’t really believe that,” Jason said gently and Howard finally looked up at him.
“No. Not really. We’re not even a little bit sweet,” he smiled and Jason laughed softly.
Nice try love, but you know you don’t distract me that easily.
“Come on, How, tell me what you’re really thinking,” he said after a moment and Howard sighed, looking down once more, almost wincing. Jason placed a gentle hand on his arm.
“You just woke up and you already want to go there?” Howard asked with a rueful smile.
“That look on your face tells me you know I do. Come on, How,” Jason replied, squeezing Howard’s arm briefly. Howard reluctantly looked up into Jason’s eyes.
“I guess I just...I need to know Jay,” he sighed and Jason frowned.
“Know what?” he pressed.
After a long silence had passed Howard took a breath and Jason looked up.
“I was thinking...when you fell asleep I just, I started to process it all and...and it occurred to me that out there, when we were talking...I was so focused on fixing the breakdown, you know? I was worrying so much about the fact we’d stopped communicating and we’d let it go on so long, that I didn’t have time to even begin to worry about the other things. Like what you said...about...about not eating. What Monika said about you not eating. And the more I thought the more I...it’s just...were you...were you trying to....shit Jay don’t make me say it. Coz I know, Jay, I remember what your doctor told you, before we went, before Mark had even left. About how thin you were. I know how much risk there is if you get ill, never mind if you deliberately don’t eat and I...I don’t think I could stand it if that was what you wanted, never mind if I was the one who made you want to do it but...were you...were you trying to kill yourself?” Howard confessed at last, closing his eyes as he spoke. Jason watched him, sympathy and understanding crossing his face briefly before his expression turned to thought. When he didn’t reply right away, Howard opened his eyes, watching Jason, a ball of nervousness forming in his throat and scratching him painfully.
“No,” Jason stated at last. Quiet, simple. Certain.
“No?” Howard repeated. He wasn’t sure if he was repeating that with hope or with confusion. Or perhaps he was just making sure he had heard Jason correctly.
“No, I wasn’t,” Jason said, more gently this time, his hand moving from Howard’s arm to his neck, his eyes bright as they scanned Howard’s face.
“When I got thinking Jay I...I tried to rack my brains, I tried to reassure myself but I just couldn’t. I was trying to think when the last time you actually had a meal was and...and I couldn’t remember. And it occurred to me that Monika wouldn’t have said anything if it was different when I was gone, you know? I mean, if she noticed and she’s been here the whole time...you’re lucky you’re not in hospital or something, Jay. You’re lucky you’re not ill or dying or...you weren’t even trying to do anything about it and...and I didn’t even notice...” Howard was talking mostly to his hands but Jason edged closer to him once more. Jason knew Howard was incapable of not looking at him when he was this close.
“I know it wasn’t good...I do know that. And I shouldn’t have done it. I suppose I just didn’t see it as taking a risk. I mean...honestly? I don’t think it was really a conscious choice, Howard. I was just...I was just putting everything on hold. Things like that just seemed secondary. I was worrying about bigger things than what I wanted for dinner, you know? I swear to you Howard – you never could make me want to kill myself. You know it’s not the sort of person I am and...even if I was? It would never be you. Not ever,” Jason was adamant. But Howard wavered.
“Jay...” he began but Jason simply shook his head.
“Howard, it would never happen. The way I love you it just...I don’t have a cut-off point, you know? There’s nothing you can do to make me call time. You can drive me insane. And yeah, you know, I think...I think we drove each other insane for a while there. And it wasn’t the first time either. But we don’t run away from it. When we were younger, in other relationships, in relationships that didn’t matter as much, that didn’t see us grow so much with someone else, then yeah, maybe there would have been that line. But with you...I know there’ll be fights sometimes. But it doesn’t put me off, I know better than to think I could ever get away from you. You’re a part of what’s made me who I am now, and that’s irreversible,” he assured Howard slowly and Howard felt his lips curve into a faint smile.
“No beginning, no end,” he whispered and Jason frowned.
“What?” he asked and Howard’s smile widened.
“What you said; the best romances don’t start and they don’t end,” he murmured and Jason smiled.
“I meant it,” Jason assured him and Howard leant across to kiss him once on his lips.
Howard glanced away again then, shaking his head ever-so-slightly.
“It’s funny, you know...everyone thinks we’re so fucking perfect, that we just...we have this thing between us and we always know how to deal with it, we always understand how to hold onto it even when things get hard. They think we’re so perfect even though we’ve almost thrown it away so many times. Sometimes I wish we were as perfect as they think we are...we wouldn’t have to have fights then. We could just cut to that bit out in the snow where you told me you loved me and I got to hold you and...to you falling asleep next to me...looking at me that way...” Howard trailed off, swallowing hard and closing his eyes.
“There’s no such thing as a perfect relationship, Howard. I know what people think. And I know it would be nice if it was that easy but...it wouldn’t be as special as it is if it just happened that way. There’s no such thing as a perfect relationship. But there is forgiveness for the things that we didn’t do or did wrong and want to change. And then there’s acceptance of the things we can’t change about each other, the things we can’t change that have happened in the past, the things we’ll forever be fighting to work around. Or, at the very least, there’s a constant battle, an effort, to try and get to those places with each other,” Jason spoke steadily, his eyes not leaving Howard’s face for a moment. And as he spoke Howard looked over at him. Really looked as well. He saw everything Jason was and he saw it was a nightmare. In many ways it was at least. He saw everything that Jason was and he saw that, in a lot of ways, it was everything he used to try to avoid in people he had dated. He saw all the reasons why the thing Jason was – beautiful creature but full of complications – shouldn’t fit the thing he was. But more importantly he saw all the ways he and Jason had made themselves fit, all the things that might look impossible to fuse that they had taken the time make glorious. He thought back over their conversation in the snow. Forgiveness and acceptance. If their relationship wasn’t about those things they would have missed so much. Maybe they would have missed tonight even; maybe Jason would have kept on walking until he reached the train station, disappeared forever, taken the easy way out. He hadn’t done that though. He had stayed and he had waited and he had fought and forgiven and accepted. Nothing was broken irreparably here, because they could both still look at each other this way. Hold each other this way. They couldn’t change their actions but they could understand why they had made them. Accept it, forgive it and just...carry on.
“But just look at the mess we made,” Howard pointed out with a small glimmer of mischief and Jason laughed.
“Well you might be shy and I might be insecure, but we are a pair of exhibitionists at heart,” he pointed out playfully, leaning his forehead against Howard’s, winking once and making Howard chuckle as he took him more firmly into his arms.
“So then...where on earth do we go from here?” Howard asked him seriously and Jason narrowed his eyes a little in thought. Howard brushed some of Jason’s hair from his forehead and Jason leant against him.
“Actually, believe it or not, I don’t even care right now,” Jason murmured at last and Howard raised an eyebrow.
“You? You don’t care? About plans, about the future, about all the things we have to sort out? You’re able to just brush that off, without even worrying about it or analysing it or anything?” Howard looked at Jason steadily but Jason simply laughed.
“We can worry about it in the morning. For now I just...I just want...” Jason stopped and Howard looked at him intently, desperate to try and anticipate whatever need Jason was about to express. Jason pursed his lips.
“Yes?” Howard pressed and Jason almost laughed as he looked into his husband’s anxious eyes.
“I just want to be a complete fucking cliché and say that...I just want you,” Jason shrugged at last. And, before Howard had time for any more questions, Jason had pressed his lips firmly against Howard’s, wrapping his arms tightly around him and burying a hand in Howard’s dark curls. Howard was caught off guard at first, but was quick to move his lips against Jason’s in response, closing his eyes as the kiss deepened, and he felt himself being pushed back against the pillows by Jason’s gentle hands.
As Howard’s hands moved to pull the hoody from Jason’s frame, both men tensed slightly, hearing the interruptive sound of Jason’s mobile buzzing against his bedside table. Howard tried to coax Jason deeper into the kiss but Jason’s eyes were open and straying in the direction of his phone.
“Leave it, who the hell even calls at three in the morning?!” Howard pleaded hopelessly against Jason’s lips but Jason simply laughed softly, giving Howard a parting peck on his lips before rolling himself across the bed, grabbing his phone and lying down. Howard crawled across the bed towards him, wrapping an arm around his waist and resuming kissing Jason’s neck. Jason laughed once more, stretching a little away from him but not breaking their contact as he answered the call. He pressed the speaker button and attempted to push Howard off him, biting back another laugh as Howard fought back, tugging at his hoody once more. Jason smiled and turned his head towards the phone and away from Howard so he could talk.
“Jason speaking.”
Chapter Thirteen
It was a secluded stretch of the Thames where he found him. He was sitting alone, leaning back on his hands, his legs stretched out in front of him. There was no reason for him to look over there when he did, and indeed there was nothing particularly unusual about the sight of someone sitting alone by the river late at night. Usually that sight would make him quicken his pace, keen to avoid any down-and-outs. Yet still, that night, paused. Because when it came to that man he was sure he would always possess a certain instinct. The spot probably wasn’t the prettiest; this area was not the glamorous part of London that the tourists came for, but there was a certain peace here that allowed you to think. He had learned very soon after arriving in London that it was like nowhere else in the country in feeling; beautiful in its own way but rarely tranquil. He came to this spot himself sometimes, when no other drifters were around. Maybe that was the real reason he had glanced over, that seemed a more likely theory than anything else. Though he later wondered if perhaps some things really are just down to fate – a thought he wouldn’t share.
“Mark Owen, what the hell are you doing out here, all alone, at this time of night?” the words, as a reunion greeting, were perhaps not perfect. But Robbie had never trusted perfect things. Mark, for his part, seemed to be too placid or too disconsolate to care that these were the first words he had heard Robbie Williams say in almost a year. If Robbie had to judge, he would say Mark wasn’t even remotely perturbed by the unlikely scenario of their chancing an encounter such as this. But then, simply bumping into people in London didn’t tend to happen by chance and this was his area of London, he supposed. But, strangely, Mark didn’t seem to have come to hunt him down.
“This isn’t how I imagined it would be, Rob,” Mark half-murmured at last. Robbie looked at him carefully a moment then put his hands in his pockets and tilted his head to one side.
“How what would be Markie?” he asked softly.
“This. Life. I screwed everything up, Rob, I screwed it all up and I just...I don’t know how to make it right,” Mark’s eyes shone slightly with the light that reflected off the water and Robbie turned his own eyes towards the river before them.
“No one ever does but the world seems to go on ok,” he sighed.
“I left Gaz. I didn’t...I didn’t mean it to be forever or...but I know I can’t go back. Problem is that now I’ve got nowhere else to go and nowhere left that’s home,” Mark told him. There was no threat of tears in his voice; his sadness was a resigned sort of sadness. The sort of sadness you only really get to hear in people’s voices when they get grounded by bad weather in airports a long way from where they wanted to be. But then, perhaps that’s exactly what Mark was; stranded a long way from home. Robbie wondered if he should ask why Mark had left or press for why he felt he couldn’t go back. But he couldn’t bring himself to make Mark’s eyes gleam with any more melancholy than was already there. He let out a long sigh and sat himself down next to Mark on the bank.
“So you thought you’d come to London? Coz the rents are so notoriously cheap here you know,” he teased softly and Mark’s lips quirked into a small smile.
“I don’t know why I came here. I’ve always been fascinated by London, you know? It’s so...well, it’s not Manchester. And Manchester’s all I’ve ever known really. I never got out much, when I was younger,” Mark mused and Robbie nodded.
“So you didn’t come to find me then?” he ventured.
“I think part of me hoped I’d find you. Hoping was obviously enough though,” Mark replied with a shrug, glancing over at Robbie with another half-smile. Robbie smiled back and nodded once more.
“I guess it was. I’m surprised I’m not more surprised, you know? The odds are against it happening like this,” he said, gesturing to the two of them sitting side by side. Mark shrugged again before looking back out to the river.
“I remembered your pub wasn’t far,” he dismissed softly.
For a few moments the two sat in silence, both watching the river with dark eyes. There was history in the air between them, but both men knew that was something they would both be forced to carry with them forever. They just had the sort of personalities that forced them to carry their past around with them on their backs – sometimes a burden but always a useful reminder of mistakes that shouldn’t be made again. Breaking the stillness Mark shifted his weight and produced a packet of cigarettes from the pocket of his jeans. He offered one to Robbie, who accepted wordlessly. They lit up in silence and continued their watch over the water. It was Robbie who broke the quiet first.
“So you left Gary?” he asked nervously. Mark looked down and closed his eyes, rubbing one thumb along his lip.
“I had to get out, you know? I couldn’t be there anymore. I was fighting to keep up the whole time, trying not to let anything break me no matter what happened and...I couldn’t do it anymore. I needed to learn to look after myself without self-destructing. I couldn’t do that if he was there behind me trying to help. I had too much help all that time and I forgot about helping myself,” he explained slowly, carefully avoiding Robbie’s gaze.
“I get that,” Robbie said simply and Mark’s lips twitched in a hint of a smile.
“Yeah. Well, it doesn’t matter now anyway. I can’t go back. I took too long and...and somewhere along the way I realised I can’t ever have been all that honest with him...he loves someone that I just...I’m not. I don’t know how to tell him that...I can’t tell him that. I mean...if he doesn’t love me, how can I even know I really love him? You’re honest with people you love and I’ve...I haven’t been honest in so long. I just don’t know what to do, Rob. I don’t know what to do,” Mark admitted, talking even more softly now. Robbie looked away as Mark spoke, looking back at the water. He sighed. He couldn’t tell Mark he was wrong, it wasn’t his place to judge that. But he wanted to help him. Somehow. He owed him that much and more.
“Well...well if you need somewhere to go then...why don’t you come with me?” he suggested. Timidly, almost. Mark took so long to react Robbie half-suspected he hadn’t remembered to speak his offer aloud. But after a moment Mark looked over at him, his head on one side.
“With you?” he repeated quietly.
“I’m packing up Markie, I’m going back to Stoke. Coz I er...I realised some things about myself too you know. I realised I’ve never really been at home anywhere. Not since you and me certainly. I’m not even sure I was at home where I was born. You and me, right now, we’re homeless. We might have beds for the night or places we should be but...nothing can stop us not belonging, you know? Nothing can stop that feeling,” Robbie shrugged. Mark glanced down at the ground.
“Yeah,” he agreed simply. Robbie closed his eyes.
“Look...all I know is...all I know is that Stoke – on account of being made to feel pretty unwelcome by the rest of the world – it has this warmth for its own, you know? It has a warmth for everyone who’s from there...and for anyone willing to ignore the bad press and give it a chance. There’s a lot of love in Stoke, as long as you’re willing to look past the reputation,” he smiled and Mark smiled back at him, his eyes fond and dimly shining.
“Sounds a lot like someone I know,” he pointed out and Robbie forced down a smile.
“Yeah well. Stoke is in me, Markie. That’s why I’m going back. Figure I owe the place,” Robbie brushed off quickly, but Mark’s eyes still twinkled slightly at him through the dark.
“You know...I think that was my logic when I came here hoping to see you,” he told Robbie gently. The two men paused in silence again. Robbie stubbed out his cigarette, still avoiding Mark’s gaze.
“So...you want to come with? We can job-hunt together? We won’t even say Gary Barlow’s name...if we haven’t said his name for a few months and you’ve hardly noticed? I’ll drop it. If it’s killing you and there’s no name on earth you’d rather hear? You admit he’s the love of your life and go back and tell him everything. Deal?” Robbie tried. Mark looked at him a moment then slowly extended his hand for Robbie to shake.
“Deal,” he agreed. Robbie nodded slowly, taking Mark’s hand and shaking it firmly.
“Where you staying?” Robbie asked over the handshake.
“Just up the road,” Mark replied.
“Come on then, let’s get you back in the warm then we can sort stuff out in the morning,” Robbie concluded before heaving himself back up to stand, pulling Mark up with him.
“Sounds good,” Mark nodded simply and he and Robbie turned and walked away.
As they walked in silence, Robbie watched Mark. He saw the sadness in his eyes and he wanted to fix it, he truly did. But something in the pit of his stomach told him Mark needed to work a few things out for himself first. It couldn’t hurt to give him a little push though.
“Look, Markie...no one falls in love with the perfect people, you know that, right? I mean...whatever you think you sold him, whatever lies you think Gary Barlow bought into when he fell in love with you...they’re not going to be the reason. People only really fall in love with the flawed ones – they love because of the flaws, they love the person those flaws make. The broken people and the perfect people...they’re almost one and the same. There’s something missing from them, they’re not real people. They can’t be loved, there’s gaps where the love should be. If he loves you, Markie, he’s still going to love you if – when – you go back to him,” Robbie said suddenly into the quiet, his eyes dead straight. He didn’t want to look at Mark in case he saw the sadness there and let it hold him back from saying everything he wanted to. Mark simply looked up at him with mild incredulity.
“But...Rob...I...I was into him so fast. Like a sudden fix from a bowl of sugar, you know? And before I knew it he had become so much to me. I was so caught up I could...I couldn’t move to stop it or to explain anything...” Mark trailed off and looked away. Robbie smiled sadly.
“Markie, you wouldn’t have had to explain. I don’t know how long you two knew each other or what it was like but...he knew you long enough, Markie. He knew you long enough to love you. It doesn’t take long knowing you to love you,” he murmured. Mark slowly lifted his gaze and he studied Robbie intently. Biting his lip he studied the hard lines of his face – those eyes were so tenacious and so bright. He took a step towards Robbie then and balanced on his tiptoes so he could press a lingering kiss against his lips. And Robbie let him without protest. Slowly Mark pulled back and looked up into Robbie’s face.
“It’s not the same,” he said slowly and Robbie laughed slightly.
“Not the same?” he questioned and Mark smiled wistfully, looking down.
“Nothing is the same as...as kissing Gaz,” he whispered. Robbie simply smiled. A smile that told Mark a lot of things. A smile that told him that Robbie knew Mark’s only home was Gary. A smile that told him that Robbie hadn’t really been at home at all since the two of them had split up. A smile that told him Robbie wasn’t going to let him make that same mistake.
“Gaz wait!” Mark’s outburst took both men by surprise, and Gary stilled immediately as Mark’s hand caught hold of his own, stopping him putting the key in the front door. Gary looked over and met Mark’s eyes. There were creases there that hadn’t been before – Mark had always felt everything so deeply and the thought occurred to Gary that that really was beginning to catch up with him.
“What’s wrong?” Gary asked softly, concern edging his voice. Mark closed his eyes.
Don’t make me say it Gaz, I want so badly not to say it at all.
“I can’t go in there,” he whispered. Gary frowned, looking from the door to Mark and back again as though he thought there was some force-field there just waiting to bounce Mark’s small body right back when he touched it.
“Why not?!” Gary asked with such genuine confusion that Mark had to smile, if a little sadly.
Oh Gaz.
“Gaz I...I don’t belong in there...it’s not...I don’t...look, are we really sure we can do this? We’ve barely thought about this, we haven’t...we didn’t stop to think...after all this time and...and with what I told you...” Mark couldn’t form sentences and, without realising, his fingers gripped a little more tightly at Gary’s hand.
“What are you babbling about, Marko?” Gary asked gently, his usually sharp blue eyes suddenly tender as he turned slightly to face Mark properly.
“I...I just...Gaz, I’m never going to be that guy I was trying to be, I’m never going to be ok, not properly. I’m always going to be screwed up and things are always going to screw me up. I’m always going to be trying to keep my head above water...and I might not always be winning the battle, you know?” Mark sighed and Gary watched as his head bowed slightly. He took a step closer to Mark, cupping Mark’s cheek in his hand. Pianists hands, Mark thought absently.
Big and broad – an impossible combination of clumsy and precise. That’s just Gaz all over.
“Marko, look at me,” Gary said softly and Mark took a deep breath.
“Gaz...” he began but Gary shook his head slightly.
“Look at me,” he repeated, and this time Mark gave up any attempt at resistance.
“What?” he asked, his eyes reluctantly meeting Gary’s.
“I know you know me, Mark Owen. I know that you know what I think about love – you probably think I think about it too much but I can’t help it. It’s the one thing I’ve believed in resolutely my whole life. Jay’s had honesty, Howard’s had stubbornness...and I’ve had love. And love is just...different. It works outside the normal rules that perfection is beautiful and flaws are unnatural. Love is naturally flawed, I think, because it relies on you looking at the things that screw people up and loving them all the more for it. You give everything, Markie, and you look at every detail. It’d drive any man mad if he let it. But...in my eyes that just...it makes you amazing, it makes you beautiful. I’m not expecting to sail around the world and not meet a single storm. But then, I’m not expecting the Titanic either. And you and me, we both work hard at everything we do, don’t we? So why not work hard at us?” Gary murmured, his thumb gently stroking Mark’s cheek as he spoke. Mark watched him in awe.
I want to agree with him. I want to. I do.
“Is it really supposed to be so bloody? Such a fucking war?” he whispered.
“Name me one really good love-song that genuinely swore it was always going to be ok,” Gary smiled. And Mark had to smile back at that. He looked down and swallowed.
“I don’t know Gaz,” he sighed. Gary tucked a strand of Mark’s hair back into place and tipped his head up so their eyes met again.
“Mark Owen, are you telling me you are broken beyond recognition?” he asked.
“No...flawed but not broken,” Mark replied slowly. Gary held back the smile from his lips, but Mark could see it dancing in his eyes. And somewhere inside him, he gave in. He actually took in Gary’s words and he knew, with complete certainty, that Gary was right.
“Are you fatally, mortally, lethally wounded?” Gary pressed and Mark almost laughed.
“No. Scarred but...the wounds will heal eventually. I’ll heal eventually,” he nodded slowly.
“So, what you’re trying to tell me is: you’re human?” Gary clarified playfully, and this time Mark let the laugh escape, every corner of his eyes lighting up. The sound of sparklers crossed Gary’s mind.
“Yeah, I think so,” Mark chuckled and Gary beamed back at him broadly.
“Good. Coz so am I. Now – are you going to let me open the damn door or are we going to live out here together?” he questioned and Mark smiled, slowly letting go of Gary’s hand. He was confident of the fact that being inside the life Gary had built without him would be uncomfortable and awkward and it would make him want to run away. And he was confident of the fact they still needed to talk so many other things over – like what he’d been doing for a year, for a start. But Gary was taking charge of it all, he was taking command and he was saying it would be alright. He was saying it would never be perfect but it would always be beautiful. And that was more than enough to convince Mark to follow Gary inside the flat.
Just take his lead. He’s enjoying leading so much, so let him.
They talked until the sun had gone down and beyond and there wasn’t a single thing either one of them said that changed the other’s heart. It occurred to Mark, and he nervously confessed it to Gary, that in the end, Robbie Williams had been completely and utterly right. For a moment Mark missed Robbie with each and every one of the nerve endings in his body and Gary let him without a flicker of selfish desire to have Mark’s heart all to himself. Mark was grateful for that.
Both of them were so suddenly alive again that it took them a while to notice that the atmosphere hadn’t changed. Manchester was still strangely hollow. It was two in the morning before either of them recovered their senses enough to remember that friendship, though rarely used in song lyrics or novels, was just as important a form of love as any other.
Mark handed Gary the phone and with nervous fingers he dialled.
“Jason speaking.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Jason speaking,” the voice that came down the line didn’t sound like Jason somehow.
“Wow, you’re up! Should’ve known I guess...you keep DJ’s hours,” Gary replied with a soft chuckle, glancing at his watch and shaking his head.
“I keep my own hours, Gaz,” Jason told him curtly and Gary stopped smiling immediately. It wasn’t the greeting he had been expecting.
“Alright, alright. You must be waiting up for a call from him though, yeah? You’re an hour ahead over there so it’s...what, three thirty?” he asked and there was a small pause on the other end, as though Jason was debating the pros and cons of sharing the information on the tip of his tongue.
“Howard already called actually, I was just getting ready for bed when you rang,” Jason murmured at last. Gary could hear something in Jason’s voice, a certain reluctance, though reluctance over what Gary couldn’t be sure.
“Thought as much,” Gary nodded slowly. Jason simply sighed.
“Is there something wrong?” he asked and Gary blinked, taken aback by Jason’s down-to-business tone. He frowned and shook his head.
“No, no. Well, I wanted to let you know a parcel came to the apartment for you, obviously someone a bit slow on the uptake. But I forwarded it, should be coming to you tomorrow if I did my maths correctly. Would’ve called earlier but it completely slipped my mind until the moment I got into bed. Thought I’d leave a message so you knew to be in tomorrow,” Gary explained.
“Monika will be here, I’ll let her know. Cheers, Gaz,” Jason said and Gary raised his eyebrows.
“Oh? And where are you off to?” he questioned. Again Jason paused. A long pause, a noticeable one.
“Nowhere. Just...well, Howard needs me to bring some stuff to him in Berlin. When he called just now he begged me to get on a train and bring it to him right this minute. I caved in and compromised with him, said I’d go first thing tomorrow. I don’t know...maybe I shouldn’t go but...well, he needs it for the gig tomorrow and I don’t want to be the reason he loses his regular slot with these guys,” he admitted softly and Gary nodded.
“Howard Donald would forget his own head if it wasn’t screwed on. You’re lucky he remembers to come home to you,” he smiled wryly. Jason laughed with what Gary would have said, if he didn’t know Jason better, was bitterness.
“He doesn’t always,” he muttered. Gary was fairly confident he wasn’t supposed to have heard that.
“Well, anyway, you’re still lucky to have him, right?” he tried.
“Am I really? And how do you figure that I’m the lucky one in my relationship?” Jason demanded, suddenly abrupt and sharp. Gary blinked then laughed nervously.
“Um, because you finally met a man whose hours of business don’t clash horribly with the hours you tend to keep?!” he joked but Jason didn’t laugh.
“Of course, coz I should have to fit in. You know, it’s so convenient of me, being an insomniac and all. If I wasn’t, who would Howard call in the early hours of the morning when he needed a cross-country bail-out. And God only knows who Howard would turn to when he wanted a post-work sh...” Jason was talking quickly now and Gary didn’t have time to process half of what was said before he leapt in and cut Jason off.
“Sorry, sorry! Christ, Jay. I thought you enjoyed following him around, you seemed happy enough at Christmas,” Gary interrupted. Jason was silent a moment.
“Following him around? Is that what you think of me?” he asked softly. Gary winced.
“I didn’t mean...look, I just meant he’s turning into a celebrity or something over there right now. He’s getting more than enough money for the two of you, I don’t know why you don’t just pack in your job and travel with him. You should. Wouldn’t matter so much if he forgot to come back home then would it, you’d be with him! You were enjoying it at Christmas. I saw you up there in the DJ booths dancing. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you much happier,” Gary shrugged.
“Pack my job in?!” Jason questioned, his tone still edged with anger.
“Why not? I mean...the way you explained it to me, it doesn’t make much difference to the budget, it’s just to keep you occupied. So let Howard keep you occupied instead, I’m sure that’d make him a very happy man,” Gary explained.
“Oh, I’m sure it would. I should just be his toy then, should I? What about me? What kind of an identity does that leave me with? Even less of an identity than I’ve already got!” Jason all but hissed. It was only then that Gary’s own anger surged.
“Look, at least you have someone who wants you to be his toy. Or had you forgotten that I have been dropped like a stone back here? And not just by the man I loved. You should know, eh, Jay, you remember don’t you? The way my fucking mates deserted me too?” he shot back. Jason laughed mirthlessly.
“Deserted you?! I tried, Gaz. I tried to make you cheer up and you wouldn’t. You just used me, you used mine and Howard’s presence because it allowed you to relinquish responsibility and just wallow like you always do. I tried to let you know I was still here for you, Gaz, I invited you out here, I told you to call whenever. But you never call now, you haven’t for months. Only when something needs to be sorted out. Story of my fucking life these days that though isn’t it! Call Jay, he’ll know what to fucking do. But don’t just talk to him and try and catch up, no, no point in that. Just take his advice or his help or his favours and run. Well I’m sick of it, Gaz. I get enough of it from my husband without you joining in. So do me a favour, please, and don’t call me for a while. Thanks for sorting the parcel. I’ll transfer the money for it to your account as soon as I’m done waiting on my fucking husband hand and foot,” and with that Jason slammed the phone down on Gary.
It was the last time the two of them spoke until boxing day finally rolled around, save for a few, brief, down-to-business emails. Jason had never offered an explanation for his outburst and Gary had never apologised for his part in it either. Gary replayed the conversation in his mind plenty of times before Jason called him again, each time trying to figure out how exactly he’d managed to put his foot in it. It had taken him too long to work out that, despite Jason’s best efforts, he clearly wasn’t happy with how things had turned out. But even armed with that information there was still nothing Gary could do about it and that scared him. It was that fear that stopped him calling Jason back. He regretted that. Especially since, as usual, it was left to Jason to make the first moves to making things right, instigating an unspoken truce with his boxing day phone call. Gary had promised himself he would try and make things right as soon as his chance came though. He refused to let Jason down again.
“Jason speaking,” Jason’s voice was so much brighter than he had heard it be for months that it took Gary a moment to recover himself. He was sure he detected a smile in that voice, and being unable to recall the last time he’d heard such a thing in Jason’s voice he rather wished he’d keep talking.
“Hi Jay, it’s er...well, me,” he stammered at last. Jason barely heard him as he tried to wriggle free of Howard’s arms which were creeping around his waist and pulling him across the bed. Howard grinned mischievously up at Jason who was attempting to hold the phone away from him.
“Hi, Gaz,” Jason managed, only a little breathlessly, pushing his hand in Howard’s face and stretching away from his grip at the same time, stopping Howard’s attempts to kiss his neck.
“Fuck off please, Gaz!” Howard’s muffled voice reached Gary down the line.
“Oh God, is Howard there?!” Gary exclaimed, suddenly embarrassed. Jason simply laughed at him and Gary heard the rustling sound as Jason pushed himself free of Howard’s grip.
“Yes, he is. But don’t let that stop you, I can handle him,” Jason smirked, kicking Howard’s leg playfully then rolling himself on top of his husband, successfully pinning him down and placing a hand over his mouth for good measure. Gary raised his eyebrows, surprised but glad to hear the crackle of laughter that edged Jason’s voice. Howard silently revelled in it all.
God I fucking missed him being like this. How did I not notice that this Jay – the Jay I fell in love with, my Jay – had all but disappeared?
“Can you now? I feel I should warn you though, Jay, you are on speaker phone here,” Gary grinned.
“Am I? Well, as long as it’s not my mum and dad you’re there with, I think I can live with that,” Jason replied. His face was close to Howard’s now, mischief in his eyes as he pressed his hand more firmly across Howard’s mouth and kissed his nose. Howard looked up at him plaintively, longing to kiss the laughter lines which crossed Jason’s face.
“Actually it’s not either of them...it’s...well...it’s Mark...” Gary said slowly.
“Hi, Jay,” Mark’s nervous voice cut in. Jason’s eyebrows raised and for a moment Howard was distracted, intrigued as to what development he was missing out on.
“Mark Owen, what on earth have you been doing with yourself for the past year and why, exactly, didn’t you manage to so much as ring me?!” Jason demanded, recovering himself with surprising speed. His voice was as playful as it was stern and Mark smiled a little shyly, briefly burying his face in Gary’s shoulder. Gary glanced over at him and smiled encouragingly.
“From what Gaz says, you know exactly what I’ve been doing,” Mark retorted after a beat.
“You shouldn’t believe everything Gaz says, that man has a tongue of pure silver,” Jason smiled. At that moment Howard managed to move his head just enough to free his mouth, diverting Jason’s attention. He grinned briefly.
I think Jay’s enjoying this game...
“Fuck off please, Mark!” Howard called out shamelessly, suddenly gaining the upper hand on Jason and managing to grab his arms and roll the two of them around so Jason was the one pinned down. Jason was laughing softly and he closed his eyes a moment, though he didn’t drop the phone even as Howard began planting kisses along the line of his neck. Howard couldn’t stop his eyes from sparkling, unable to hide the delight that bubbled up inside him at the restoration of life to this man he adored so completely. He looked him up and down. Head back, laughing, eyes closed. Flawed? Immensely so. Beautiful? Immensely so. Howard’s lips quirked into a smile against Jason’s skin.
“Would now be a good time to mention your mum just walked into the room?” Gary teased, knowing the two of them well enough to guess what was going on. Jason whimpered slightly, making a half-hearted attempt at pushing Howard off him.
“Don’t even joke,” he replied and Gary chuckled.
“I don’t think she’s under any illusions you know, Jay,” he pointed out with gentle amusement.
“Oh, she is. Illusions that I want her to stay under. So, are you planning on telling me how Mark Owen returned from the mythical land of Stoke-on-Trent and re-entered your life? Or do I have to use my imagination?” Jason asked, just managing to get his hand over Howard’s mouth once more.
“So you did know where I was!” Mark gasped and Jason smiled.
“I might’ve stumbled on the information, yes. All I wanted was to be sure you were safe, Markie...and, for the record, I don’t think you could’ve been much safer than where you were,” he said gently and Mark smiled. Jason held a faith in Robbie that Mark didn’t understand the roots of, but was grateful for nonetheless. Gary smiled slightly sadly.
“He’s right you know,” he said softly and Mark looked at him in surprise.
“Thank you,” he murmured and Gary shrugged self-consciously and looked away. On the other end of the line Jason squirmed oblivious as Howard began a new attempt on the other side of his neck. It was a struggle but Jason just managed to keep hold of the phone.
Battle of wills, balance of power...why is everything a game of control with us? And why the hell do we both enjoy it so much?!
“You know though, Jay...these kinds of stories, they’re always best told in person,” Gary ploughed on with the conversation forcefully and Jason stilled in Howard’s grip, narrowing his eyes.
“What the hell, Gaz? Really?!” he questioned with evident confusion and Gary laughed.
“Yes! Which is why I called you, actually. I was wondering...it’s a bit short notice but...are you and Howard doing anything New Year’s Eve?” he asked slowly. Jason paused a moment and, immediately sensing the change in his husband’s demeanour, Howard looked up at him.
Something just happened. I know that look in his eyes. That look means he’s plotting something.
“What?” Howard whispered and Jason’s eyes glinted slightly. He took his opportunity and pushed Howard off him before promptly rolling himself to lie on top of him once more.
“You know, Gaz, we do have plans for New Year’s,” he said slowly. Howard still stared up at him, trying to gauge what exactly his husband was up to.
“Oh...of course...busy time of year for Howard and all...” Gary began but Jason shook his head slightly, smiling down at Howard and giving him a quick kiss on the lips.
“Actually...no. Howard doesn’t have a gig New Year’s. We’re doing something else...” Jason said quietly and Howard frowned.
I thought I did have a gig though...hang on...is he...?
“Ok...” Gary sounded puzzled and he exchanged a glance with Mark.
“See, I was thinking of cooking dinner that night...for my husband...and his daughter...” Jason began.
Did he just take control of everything? Since when was Grace coming?! And hang on, he’d better be cooking for himself too!
“Oh,” Gary said quietly, mostly to himself, as he tried to think of a better excuse to invite Howard and Jason back to Manchester for a visit. Howard, for his part, narrowed his eyes at Jason and Jason laughed softly, shaking his head slightly and kissing Howard’s cheek.
“I’ll be cooking for me too, of course,” he added with a roll of his eyes and Howard smiled.
Thank God for that.
“Ok, well...” Gary was about to launch into an alternative but Jason interrupted and cut him off.
“I’m cooking it at our apartment though. Our apartment in Manchester. So if you and Mark wanted to come...” he trailed off, leaving the invitation open. Realisation crossed Howard’s face.
Hang on...does he mean we’re moving home?
“Your apartment?!” Gary asked, eyes wide. Jason hardly heard him, preoccupied by returning the smile his husband was giving him.
“Our apartment,” he managed to reply.
Fucking hell...my Jay is back with a vengeance tonight!
Howard’s smile widened and he leant up enough to capture Jason’s lips, pulling him into a prolonged kiss.
“Seriously?” Mark breathed, wide-eyed, exchanging a glance with Gary.
“So...does this mean you’re moving back? For good?” Gary pushed as the silence stretched on. Jason reluctantly pulled back from the kiss, suddenly intent on getting rid of Gary as quickly as possible.
“You know what Gaz, it’s actually quite late. Nice to know you’re back, Markie, I’ll talk to you both tomorrow and we can arrange everything. Thanks for ringing...” he rushed and Gary frowned.
“No, hang on, wait, Jay...” he tried but Jason had other ideas.
“Some things just don’t change do they,” Mark chuckled in the background, knowing exactly why Jason was suddenly so intent of vanishing. Jason heard neither of his friends however.
“Night!” he called cheerfully over the top of them and promptly he hung up, chucking his phone onto the floor as if it might explode. Then, laughing softly, he fell back against Howard’s chest, burying his face briefly as though he was shy of his own giddiness.
I love this Jay. I love this Jay so much more than the pale, grey Jay I made him think I loved.
Howard took his opportunity and kissed the top of Jason’s head before tipping his chin up and coaxing him into a deeper kiss. Jason smiled against his lips, letting him wrap his arms tightly around him, one hand just sneaking beneath the hoody he was wearing.
“I love it when you do that, you know,” Howard said softly as he pulled back from the kiss. Their foreheads were still touching and Jason’s eyes were so close to his own that all he could see of them was a faint twinkling of light amidst the shadows.
“Do what?” Jason asked with a small laugh, cupping Howard’s cheek in his hand.
“Take control,” Howard replied, taking care over the words, eking them out and making sure each letter was held long enough to produce a sound. For a moment Jason looked at him, some deep thought or other traversing his face. He smiled, faintly, and pressed a brief kiss to Howard’s lips.
“Do you mean that?” he asked softly and Howard smiled at him.
“I think a small part of me has been waiting for you to do it this whole time. I’ve been holding my breath, expecting you to take charge of this whole mess and pack our bags for home...and when you never did...I don’t know. It’s like when your parents leave you home alone for the first time and you go round playing with matches and knives and everything you can think of. It’s not necessarily all that fun but...you want to make the most of the freedom. But then you burn the house down and chop your arm off and you realise you were much happier before,” he shrugged and Jason laughed.
“Are you saying you need parenting?!” he asked and Howard grinned.
“No! Well, maybe. Sometimes. But what I’m saying is...I missed you. I missed the real you I mean. And I missed that little spark of life you get in your eyes when you’re taking the reins,” he explained and Jason paused a moment, studying Howard’s face carefully, a half-smile resting on his lips.
“Howard Paul Donald, is that really all you think that spark is for?” he sighed at last.
How can he think I haven’t noticed? Doesn’t everyone know this by now?
“No,” Howard said in response and Jason tilted his head.
“No?” he pressed and Howard smiled.
“You seriously think it doesn’t drive me fucking crazy with love for you that you actually have a look in your eyes that is genuinely, one hundred per cent, all mine?” he asked. And there was that spark immediately, bursting into life in Jason’s eyes. Jason stroked his thumb along Howard’s cheek.
“Crazy with love?” he clarified and Howard laughed.
“Absolutely fucking nuts,” he agreed and with that he pulled Jason firmly down on top of him, initiating a deep kiss and slowly beginning to pull the hoody from Jason’s back.
Chapter Fifteen
Good morning world is the only fucking thing I can think. Fucking hell; that man has so much to answer for. So much.
Normally, if Howard was honest, he was not a ‘Good morning World’ sort of person and held no desire to be one. He was a ‘What time is it?/Five more minutes/What’s for breakfast?’ sort of person. But this morning was different. This morning was one of those glorious mornings when he didn’t need to take half an hour out of his day to try and remember the night before, because the night before was imprinted on his skull in perfect high definition. This morning was brilliant and dazzling and alive with a promise of a future that was changed completely from what had gone immediately before. It was almost like that first morning again, the one where he had woken up in Jason’s bed for the first time, Jason still sleeping next to him, and he had realised with astounding clarity that he was a lucky bastard. Back then, just as he had last night and many times in between, he had seen Jason Orange at his best, his finest. Happy and relaxed Jason Orange: he had seen to the dazzling centre of him and he felt proud that he had been allowed to. This was one of the mornings in his life when he felt closer to Jason than he had ever been before. Each time such a morning occurred he had never thought it possible to become closer and yet this morning he felt the closeness with an intensity that made every one that had gone before seem like some chance encounter with a near-stranger.
Stretching slightly he opened his eyes, only having to blink a little in battle with the bright winter sunshine the streamed across the bedroom towards him. The fresh fall of snow in the night had settled happily over the city and its whiteness reflected the sunshine in unending zigzags across the Frankfurt sky. Howard stifled a yawn and shifted in the bed, taking in the room. His eyes didn’t take long to be drawn to one point in particular. Because the sunshine could zigzag round Howard’s head all day, hell, it could pick him up and plant him on the surface of the sun itself, but Howard would still pay more attention to the subtle glow of Jason Orange caught in an unguarded moment.
Good morning world. And such a beautiful word you are.
Jason was stood opposite the bed, busying himself with folding and putting away clothes. He was dressed simply, effortless as ever and caught off guard. Casual, was probably the best word for him in his jeans and his close-fitting zip-top (black and knit, accentuating the elegant lines of his figure and the starry blue of his eyes, Howard noticed). The top was unzipped just enough to reveal a small ‘V’ of Jason’s skin which Howard took as an invitation to remember last night and he couldn’t stop the smile as he watched Jason continue unaware of his gaze. In fact, the smile had been on his lips before he had opened his eyes and Jason’s presence only served to encourage it. He smiled and unashamedly let his eyes blur out the rest of the world, it was unimportant when Jason was relaxed like this. Perhaps Jason didn’t look any more beautiful than usual; he certainly wasn’t deliberately dressed up. Or deliberately dressed down. He was not posing or charming or flirting. In fact he wasn’t doing any of the things that usually attracted the attention of others to him. But Howard knew him well enough to realise a moment of pure Jason when he saw it. A rare moment of worry-free, sure-of-himself Jason. But more importantly? A moment of contented Jason. It was a sight that could entertain Howard for hours if he was allowed – the others could keep the posing and the flirting if he could just have this.
“What are you smiling at?” a voice cut in, gentle and teasing. Jason had finished what he was doing and had finally noticed that Howard was awake. Howard blinked slightly, shifting his head on the pillow so he could meet Jason’s eyes more easily. There were phrases already on the tip of his tongue; you’re beautiful, you’re gorgeous, I love you. They were all there waiting for Jason to hear them. All true and all relevant. But Howard didn’t want to say something that came too easily to him. He didn’t want to use an answer he had used too many times before. He wanted to somehow convey to Jason every single thing that was in his head, but he knew from experience that too many words could far too easily confuse what was really one of the most beautifully simplistic things he knew. Jason’s eyes were dancing as Howard searched for his voice. Blue and awake and happy. Howard couldn’t think of anything but what he saw in those eyes.
“Just...you. You being you again,” Howard told him at last. Jason’s lips slowly curved, soft and gentle and understanding. Silently he crossed the room, sitting down on the bed. He cupped Howard’s face with his hand and pressed a single kiss to his lips. It was a wordless understanding; Howard had said something which meant too much to Jason to be picked out of the place where it hung in the air between them.
Instead he’ll just leave it there. Hanging between us. It’s his way of saying thank you.
When Jason sat up again his lips quirked in a secretive smile that Howard echoed. Jason was the first to speak into the placid silence.
“Come on Donald, up and dressed or you won’t get any breakfast,” he said quietly and with that he was up again and crossing the room. Howard felt gripped by an urge to prolong the morning, prolong the feelings he worried belonged only to that waking-up phase of the day. He wanted to keep hold of the novelty of his and Jason’s renewed closeness, he wanted it to feel just as intense as it had in those waking-up minutes instead of letting the day interfere and dilute it.
Life. It always has to push things on. Push things down.
“Jay,” he called after his husband, sitting up in the bed.
“Mm?” Jason turned back instantly, resting one hand on the doorframe and looking at Howard in questioning. Howard smiled slightly mischievously back at him.
“You’re not my whole world you know,” he grinned, enjoying the way Jason smiled back at him so brilliantly. Jason didn’t question Howard’s words because he knew Howard well enough to know where this was going. A small burst of electricity passed between the two of them as a joke was shared silently. Howard’s eyes challenged Jason. And Jason didn’t want to pass up the challenge.
“I know, love. I’m your whole universe,” he winked without missing a beat, and with that he left the room. As the door closed behind him, Howard fell back on the pillows and let out a soft chuckle.
I fucking love my life.
“When you smile like that, they all know,” Monika was sitting on one of the kitchen counters eating toast and watching Jason chop vegetables. He shot her a playfully wary glance, one eyebrow raised in questioning.
“They?” he asked with a half-laugh, shaking his head a little and then turning back to his chopping.
“They: everyone between here and Mars. They know how in love you are and they’re jealous,” she grinned and Jason couldn’t quite swallow his laugh.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he assured her with a grin that gave away everything and more. Monika simply winked at him then jumped down from the counter. She headed for the door just as Howard entered the kitchen and her smile broadened.
“Morning!” she half-sang as she passed him and Howard frowned, pausing to watch her leave before continuing towards his husband. Slowly Howard came up behind Jason, wrapping his arms around his waist. Jason smiled warmly, though he didn’t look at back, choosing instead to continue chopping the vegetables in front of him.
“What’s got into Moni?” Howard questioned, pressing a small kiss to Jason’s neck then resting his chin on his shoulder.
“God knows, I stopped trying to figure the Germans out after week one,” Jason shrugged happily and Howard laughed, standing up straight and releasing his husband.
“Behave yourself, Orange,” he chuckled, shaking his head and giving Jason a good-natured cuff round the head. But Jason simply smiled, pressing on with his cooking.
“Can’t think what you mean, Donald” he shot back with feigned innocence that made Howard chuckle.
“I’m beginning to think I should’ve stopped trying to figure you out after week one too,” he remarked with a grin but Jason looked over his shoulder at him with playful eyes.
“You’re never going to stop trying to figure me out, Howard Donald – it’s your destiny,” he said with a wink. Howard laughed and, for a moment at least, that just-woken-up feeling came back to him. Jason’s happiness got to him like nothing else could; he wasn’t sure how many people were allowed to see this side to Jason but he fairly confident it was irrelevant. After all, he knew he saw it more than anyone else ever would. Yes, the closeness was back. Intensely. Drumming on his ribs and bouncing between himself and Jason, drawing attention to itself. Not that either one of them would address it directly, that would spoil the magic of it all.
“Breakfast?” Howard asked through a smirk and Jason smiled, turning back to what he was doing.
“Microwave. You might want to give it a quick reheat though,” he warned.
Crossing the kitchen to the microwave, Howard glanced back and looked, with intrigue, at what Jason was up to.
“What are you making?” he asked, setting the microwave then leaning back against the counter to watch, though Jason didn’t turn to face him.
“Soup. It’s for lunch and there’s going to be too much for just me so you’d better be as hungry as you usually are,” Jason shrugged.
“For lunch? So what did you have for breakfast then?” Howard couldn’t hide the prickle of anxiousness that touched his voice and it had Jason’s attention instantly.
“I had yoghurt, mother!” he teased gently, letting out a soft chuckle and shaking his head. He wasn’t sharp with the tease but Howard still felt a little foolish for how easily he’d allowed doubt to slip back in. Jason glanced at him kindly.
“Sorry,” Howard mumbled, looking down and Jason sighed, crossing the room to where Howard was standing. Jason’s touch was light as he rested a hand on Howard’s arm.
“It’s ok, I get it,” he said quietly, sincerely. Howard nodded slightly, feeling self-conscious despite Jason’s tenderness. Jason nodded too then squeezed Howard’s arm briefly before moving to get something from a high cupboard, stretching up momentarily and letting Howard support a little of his weight. Before he moved back across the kitchen he squeezed Howard’s arm once more and Howard smiled thoughtfully, watching Jason turn away and continue with his cooking.
Howard played with Jason’s words in his head. ‘I get it’ – that stayed with him. Jason had touched him just as he had touched Jason earlier. Renewed closeness brought so many of these small moments, Howard thought. Before he left the kitchen he passed Jason, one hand resting lightly on the small of his back as he pressed a single kiss to his cheek then wordlessly moved on. Jason didn’t look up or speak.
I understood and he understood. Words are overrated really.
When Jason finally emerged from the kitchen, he found Howard settled on the sofa, watching the TV with his face scrunched up in concentration as he tried to follow the news in German. Jason smothered a smirk and moved across to the sofa to join him. As he came closer Howard finally noticed him, looking up at him with a bright-eyed smile. His sleeves were now rolled up and his hair a little dishevelled and he carried a plate with one hand, a mug of tea with the other. Howard’s eyes quickly came to rest on the plate.
“Ah, come closer, oh Husband Bearing Biscuits,” Howard grinned, opening his arms wide. Jason couldn’t help but laugh, rolling his eyes slightly as he accepted the invitation of Howard’s arms, lowering himself down next to him on the sofa.
“Sometimes I think you only married me for the food,” he sighed as Howard took a biscuit from the plate then wrapped his arms around Jason and pulled him close.
“No...I married you coz you were the only bloke I’d ever met who was actually more important to me than music. The food was really just a secondary thing,” Howard assured him playfully, giving Jason a peck on the cheek then grabbing another biscuit from the plate. Jason watched him a moment, a smile just beginning to touch his face. His blue eyes were glittery and thoughtful as he gazed at Howard’s profile. That playful tone was deceptive, in his opinion. Because Howard didn’t simply tell people they were more important to him than music. Jason was surrounded by people for whom music was not just a support system in times of need, it was a life-force within them, and his husband was no exception. To be above music was to be loved truly and completely and no amount of playfulness could ever take away the beauty of that sentiment in Jason’s mind.
“It’s no use. I can’t bring myself to banter against you on that one,” Jason said softly at last. Howard’s lips quirked in a satisfied smile.
He has never once tried to play tennis with my heart. My head? Always. But never my heart.
“You’re going soft, love” Howard replied quietly but his tone was far from teasing.
“I know,” Jason murmured simply and he pushed himself up enough to press a kiss to Howard’s lips. As he pulled back from the kiss Howard winked at him and Jason smiled letting Howard squeeze his shoulders. Howard kissed him affectionately on the temple before he leant back and for a moment they sat in silence, watching a weather report with blank expressions.
“Where did Monika disappear to?” Howard asked suddenly and Jason shrugged idly, his head dropping to Howard’s shoulder, his eyes still on the TV, though he couldn’t understand a word of it.
“She came in the kitchen about ten minutes ago, said she was going out,” he sighed.
“Out? She say why?” Howard questioned, craning his neck back slightly so he could look down at Jason, who was now burrowed in the crook of his arm.
“Um...she said something about us needing more milk. And about unnecessary public displays of affection under her roof. And there were mutterings of me being an awful bastard. And then...she left,” Jason told him casually, leaning up briefly to take a sip of his tea. Howard raised his eyebrows.
“An awful bastard?” he smirked and Jason looked up at him with a bright smile.
“She said it in German first, but she was kind enough to translate it for me after. I appreciated the extra effort,” he explained and Howard chuckled.
“Right...any reason?” he asked and Jason pursed his lips in an attempt to hold back his smile.
“I think it may have had something to do with Maria calling in sick again and me quitting my job,” he admitted slowly.
“Ah, and did you manage to charm her out of hating you before she left?” Howard smirked.
“Well, I did what I could,” Jason said, looking back at the TV. Howard nodded sceptically.
“She hugged you goodbye and told you she was happy for you didn’t she,” he pressed. Jason’s mouth twisted slightly in amusement. Howard looked down at him with a smirk and eventually Jason gave a reluctant shrug, risking another glance back up at Howard.
“She might’ve done. She might’ve thrown a vase at my head and slammed the door. I’ll never tell! But what I will say is; she said the awful bastard thing with a smile on her face, so I suspect she might never have hated me to begin with,” he sighed and Howard laughed, shaking his head slightly.
He always assures me his ability to spread smiles is such a burden to bear. Maybe it is for him, but I figure it’s worth it. I reckon he can’t even begin to imagine the good it does. I think if people like him didn’t exist in the world then we’d all lose hope in humanity. But then, I am obscenely biased.
“No one ever does hate you, love,” Howard murmured, kissing the top of Jason’s head and squeezing his shoulders once more.
“Anyway, what’s all this to you?” Jason demanded with a playful glower.
“Nothing...I’m just keeping an eye on the competition is all,” Howard replied. Jason looked up at him properly again, his expression softening a little and his eyes sparkling straight at Howard’s.
“Competition? Howard Donald, you should know by now, when it comes to me you have no competition,” he smiled. Howard could only smile back, disarmed and grateful all at once. He bent down enough to capture Jason’s lips with a kiss.
He just gets to me. I mean...there is competition. In the eyes of the rest of the world there is: women, men, beautiful people. And they’re all drawn to him. Because there’s something about him. He’s a beautiful person, he’s certainly more beautiful than any of them. And when he’s happy like this...God, he just lights up whole continents. But I know now – it took me a long time to believe it and sometimes it startles me, but I do know it’s true –in his opinion there really isn’t any competition for me. For whatever reason that man, that little bit of sky that got chipped off, carved up and turned into him....he loves me in a way that blots out the rest. My turn to not want to banter something away.
“So you quit your job then?” Howard asked after a long pause. Jason nodded slowly, smiling knowingly at Howard before agreeing to change the subject.
“Yes. Well, actually, I’m not sure. I think me and Monika technically agreed that she could get to fire me. But yeah...I don’t work there as of today,” he agreed. Howard tilted his head to one side.
“So we’re really going for it then?” he pressed and Jason smiled up at him confidently.
“I’m done pretending I don’t know my own mind when deep down I do,” he said simply. Howard smiled, kissing Jason’s forehead lovingly.
“Thank God for that,” he replied, coaxing a soft laugh from Jason.
“Well then, on that note, I feel I should tell you: I’ve been talking to the women in your life, love,” Jason proceeded, the mischief coming back to his eyes as he looked up at Howard.
“Ah, the words every husband wants to hear,” Howard chuckled but he got Jason’s elbow to his ribs for his troubles.
“Had it occurred to you that I talk to them because they actually take me seriously? Unlike you!” Jason half-laughed and Howard pulled a face before trying to reach for a biscuit from the coffee table. Jason rolled his eyes and swatted his hand back.
“Sorry?” Howard offered and Jason smirked at him.
“Concentrate, please? Because I happen to think this is important; Vicky is happy for Grace to come and spend New Year’s with us. She said she understood, with her getting holidays and weekends she’s actually seen far more of Grace this past year than you have and she’d far rather it was all equalled out again. She also mentioned that Grace would probably be thrilled,” Jason continued and Howard looked at him thoughtfully.
“Did you know how much I missed her?” he asked quietly and Jason smiled kindly back.
“I had my suspicions,” he said and Howard smiled distantly.
“Even with all the crap I was putting you through, you still worried about that stuff?” he looked Jason in the eye but Jason shrugged and looked away.
“Since I met you I have never not cared about you. And never not caring about you means never not caring about her,” he told Howard softly.
He amazes me. About a hundred and fifty times a day he manages to amaze me.
“Thank you,” Howard murmured.
“You know as well as I do – when you love someone you know the very worst person they could ever be but still care. We both did our worst for a little while but we always still cared. I promise you Howard, I’m grateful too you know,” Jason assured him, looking back up again.
“But your worst is still so beautiful, Jay, it doesn’t count,” Howard insisted.
“You’re only saying that coz you love me. If you didn’t love me you’d know I am a mess...well, I can be a mess,” Jason countered with a small smile which Howard returned.
You and me both, but all the same. Your ugly, your wrong, your worst person you can be? Your ‘mess’ just looks like some kind of comet to me.
They held the stare a moment before Howard broke it to press another kiss to Jason’s forehead.
“Come on, you were telling me about all the magic you were working whilst I was still in bed,” he prompted gently.
“Well my next call was to your mum,” he said slowly and Howard grinned.
“Ah, now there’s someone who really does love you,” he remarked and Jason chuckled.
“Concentrate, Donald, this bit’s important! She’s making all the arrangements needed for Grace to come back to live with us when term starts again and she says she’ll set to work packing up a few boxes of Grace’s things from her house as soon as she can,” he explained. Howard’s smile broadened and he squeezed Jason tightly.
Make that one hundred and fifty one times a day then.
“I love you,” he stated quietly, kissing Jason’s cheek.
“Good. Coz I’ve already booked our flights home too. You have...approximately twenty-four hours to pack, and no say in it at all,” Jason informed him with a grin.
Chapter Sixteen
Cadbury had always been the kind of dog who was quick to fall into a routine. After nearly knocking Mark Owen out of a window upon his return the day before last, Cadbury had proceeded to follow him everywhere. He was only marginally less clingy than Gary, which in Cadbury’s opinion was a noble sacrifice on his part – he was smart, he’d noticed what Mark’s absence had done to Gary. However, to account for this sacrifice, Cadbury had taken to sleeping at the foot of the bed. And in the morning, when he woke before either of his owners, he would sit and wait patiently, watching Mark with big, brown eyes. And on this second morning, Mark spotted him before he looked over at Gary. This, Cadbury concluded, was progress.
“Morning boy,” Mark mumbled into his pillow, stretching himself out slightly and sitting up in the bed. Cadbury quickly padded over to him, putting his head in Mark’s lap. Whilst he loved walks with Gary and would want no other man as his TV-watching partner, he knew that there could be no one in the world who showered affection as well as Mark Owen did. Mark yawned slightly as he scratched behind the dog’s ears, glancing over his shoulder briefly. It was only his second morning back by Gary’s side and he was not yet sure enough of anything to be confident each morning that the night before had not been some painfully realistic dream. Smiling softly, eyes glimmering with unspoken relief, Mark bent back and pressed a kiss to Gary’s cheek.
“Just not on the piano, ok?” Gary grumbled in his sleep, wiping the kiss off his cheek and rolling over. Mark bit back a laugh, glancing at Cadbury and rolling his eyes.
What is he like?!
“Come on Cadbury, let’s leave him be,” Mark whispered to the dog, pushing himself up off the bed and tiptoeing from the room, Cadbury following him obediently.
As they came into the lounge Mark went straight over to the TV, switching it on and smiling knowingly as Cadbury settled down in front of the morning news.
All hell could break loose, the world could spin backwards and Manchester be declared a separate state but there will still be some things that will never change.
With a contented chuckle he shook his head, grabbing his dressing gown from the back of the sofa then turning and heading for the kitchen. Leaving the kettle to boil, Mark went over to where he had discarded his phone the day before and scrolled through his contacts until he found who he was looking for. He took a deep breath before he pressed call, glancing back towards the lounge as though to make sure Cadbury wasn’t listening in. But no, the dog was gripped by the headlines and Mark nodded to himself, connecting the call before turning back to his tea.
It’ll be too early anyway, I’ll just leave a message and we can talk another time.
It only took two rings for a familiar voice to cut into Mark’s thoughts.
“Jay here,” Jason’s voice was bright, if a little hassled, and Mark didn’t manage to hide his surprise.
“Wow, you’re up...” he blinked, eyebrows raised.
“Why is everyone always so surprised that I’m awake when they phone me?!” Jason implored, seemingly uninterested in who it was phoning him.
“If you don’t like it darlin’, then stop picking up the phone,” Howard’s voice cut in from somewhere in the background, making Mark laugh softly.
“Er, you don’t get to call me darlin’ until all those chargers on the bed are untangled and packed,” Jason countered swiftly but Mark heard the distinctive sound of a kiss as Jason’s lips briefly pressed against his husband’s cheek. Howard grinned, winking at Jason then brushing past him and going over to the bed to deal with the wires Jason was pointing at.
I’d almost forgotten what these two are like when they get going. The back-and-forth, the froth. What is that anyway? Mischief? Romance? No, I know – Crackle!
“I missed a lot of things, but your complete inability to be totally in love without being all over each other was not one of them,” Mark sighed teasingly and Jason narrowed his eyes slightly.
“Mark Owen you watch your mouth or you will lose that tongue of yours,” he shot back.
“As long as I don’t lose it the same way Howard lost his,” Mark laughed brightly, stirring sugar into his tea as he sat down at the kitchen table, the phone trapped between his shoulder and his ear.
“I’d appreciate it if my husband’s tongue was left out of this thank you,” Jason said, trying to hide the laughter in his voice. As he spoke Howard looked up at him, raising his eyebrows with hopeful intrigue and Jason’s resistance to smiling was tested. Silently he pulled a face at his husband who laughed in response.
“You’re a total mush, Jason Orange, you were before and you always will be,” Mark said with confidence, taking a sip of his tea and leaning back in his chair. Jason paused a moment, sharing a look with Howard then turning away before he was forced to admit Mark was right.
“Is there a point to this phone call, Markie? Or is your sole aim to judge me?” Jason asked, crossing his free arm across his chest with a sigh. Mark swallowed slightly, looking into his tea.
I could back out of this now.
“You excited about coming back?” he tried. Jason detected the slight wavering note in his voice, his senses officially alerted.
“Excited? Try asking me when I’m not in the middle of getting my pathologically disorganised husband to pack. Now, Mark, how about you tell me why you really called this morning instead of waiting ‘til this afternoon like a normal person,” Jason pressed. Mark’s lips twitched up slightly.
Same old Jason.
“Do you ever just leave things be?” he sighed and Jason looked back over at Howard with a self-conscious smile. His blue eyes glimmered briefly with regret.
“I tried leaving things be, Markie. And it didn’t work out for me,” he said softly. Howard was looking up at him again then, his eyes bright with relief. Jason gave him a small, knowing wink. Howard smiled back at him and pushed himself up off the bed, gathering the chargers in his arms and moving to leave the room, pressing a kiss to Jason’s temple as he headed for the door.
“Love you,” he whispered, returning Jason's wink then leaving the room. Jason smiled to himself but on the other end of the line Mark was still gnawing nervously on his lip.
“If I ask you something...will you not tell Gaz? It’s nothing bad, Jay. I swear to you...I just...I don’t want him to get the wrong idea about how I feel and I think if he heard me asking this...I think it would give him the wrong idea,” Mark said awkwardly. Jason let out a long sigh, rubbing his forehead. He wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that, but he trusted Mark all the same.
“Alright Markie, I’ll bite; what do you want to know?” he asked with a little reluctance.
Here goes then. Please, Jay, don’t get me wrong here...
“Who told you where I was when I was in Stoke?” Mark asked at last, his voice meek. On the other end of the line Jason smiled a knowing smile, sitting down on the corner of the bed.
“Markie, you know as well as I do; there’s only one person who could’ve told me that,” Jason said gently.
“Rob?” Mark guessed timidly, a distant smile touching the corners of his lips.
“Rob,” Jason confirmed. Mark’s smile widened briefly, though it didn’t last, his forehead creasing.
“But...but why?” he frowned. Jason laughed a small, caring laugh and sat back slightly.
“Why do you think, Markie? He cares about you. He knew that, for whatever reason, you didn’t want Gary to know where you were. But he also knew Gary would be worried about you, that your friends and family would be worried about you. I think he just figured someone ought to know where you were. Just in case anything happened, either to you or to someone back in Manchester. Just in case Gary went off the rails and needed you or something. He wanted to protect you, Markie. And I think...I think maybe he was worried that if he didn’t phone someone then he wouldn’t be doing right by you, and that was something he never wanted to be guilty of again,” Jason explained.
“But...why you? There’s so many numbers he could’ve grabbed off my phone, why’d he pick yours?” he pressed and Jason shrugged.
“Honestly? You’d have to ask him that, Markie. I mean...I think he thought I was in the best position, to be there to tell Gary if he needed to know. And I think he was scared too...he wanted reassurance, you know? He didn’t know if taking you to Stoke was good for you or if he was just being selfish,” he said. Mark tilted his head slightly.
“So you told him it was the right thing?” he asked with slight surprise.
“Course I did. I didn’t have to be around him for more than ten seconds to know he cares a hell of a lot about you, Markie. Someone who cares about you that much isn’t going to do anything but help you to sort out your life. And to help you sort your head out enough to be able to go back to talk things out with Gary. And that’s exactly what he did, right?” Jason smiled.
“Right,” Mark smiled too at that, thinking of all the subtle hints Robbie had made to him over those three months. Considering they had never mentioned Gary’s name, Robbie had certainly made sure Mark’s mind was allowed to wander back to Gary often.
He was always there with gentle reminders of where home really was. I get it now – all those questions about what Manchester was like these days. He was steering me that whole time.
“I was surprised he called me, that much I’ll admit. But the fact he had the presence of mind to call me? It was all I needed to know to know you should stay with him,” Jason told him honestly.
“I think he really admires you, Jay. He’d ask about you, now and then, you know? You and Howard. I don’t know what you did when he came to the shop that time but...it made an impression. He doesn’t have many friends, you know. Coz of all the moving around he’s done...no one’s really had the chance to stick except me. And I’m pretty much all he’s got left. But I think he...I think he wants friends, he wants to be in a team, like at the shop, you know? And if he could pick I think he’d pick you. Howard and me too but...you were kind to him I think. And so few people are ever really, truly kind to him that when someone is...he never forgets it. You’re always so kind though, Jay...you’ve always been so kind,” Mark replied.
I’ve always just accepted that about him...I just accepted it and never appreciated how rare that is for anyone to be that way.
“Yeah, well, I’ll be honest with you, Markie, I’m not sure where on Earth you would be right now if he hadn’t found you. The night he called...with the way everything had gone with Howard and me and with Gaz at the shop and the way I was feeling at that time...I just figured you’d decided to get lost forever. And then there he was, saying he’d found you by the Thames that night, saying he thought he could help. The thought that something might, just maybe, get put right? It was one less thing for me to worry about,” Jason’s voice was edged with remembered concern that touched Mark and he felt a rush of gratitude towards Jason.
“You’re such a good friend to me, Jay. I don’t know how you do it. You’re always looking out for everyone and yet you still find time to hold you and Howard together. And the whole time I...I just presume you’re alright, everyone does. I never even ask you if you’re ok, not seriously. I just...presume...” he said thoughtfully but Jason shrugged him off.
“Well, you can ask me later, ok? But right now I’ve got to go. I’ll see you this afternoon though, yeah?” he countered, the note in his voice indicating that he was poised to hang up.
He has never been one to take a compliment.
“Jay, wait,” Mark interrupted softly. If he had learnt anything it was that apologies were important.
“Yeah?” Jason asked with a slight note of disinterest that made Mark smile.
“I’m sorry I never called you last year,” he said simply and, without giving Jason time to brush it away, he promptly hung up.
For a moment Jason sat, looking down at his phone in his hand, a slightly startled smile on his face. The truth was he spent a lot of his life trying to please people. Independent as he was, the urge to make things right was strong within him – he had analysed it for himself, something he did often, and he suspected it stemmed from the failure of his parents’ marriage. For a period of his life there had been nothing he wanted to fix more and, since then, helping fix every other mess that occurred seemed like the second-best thing to do. At some point it had become normality to him. What was less commonplace, however, was a ‘thank you’ for his troubles.
Rarer still? An apology for presuming I’ll just tidy up the mess. It hurt me when he never called...
Jason was shaken from his thoughts by the sound of his phone ringing once more. This time it was Justin and he groaned slightly – this could only mean more family members wanted to descend upon him and Howard that afternoon.
When all I want is to curl up on the sofa with Howard and watch TV. TV where everyone speaks English.
By the time Jason managed to hang up on his brother and emerge from the bedroom, Howard had been well and truly distracted from the task at hand. As Jason padded into the lounge he rolled his eyes at the sight. Monika was sitting quietly on the sofa, the TV was on but she had her headphones in and seemed to be scrutinising the health of one of the potted plants (she was convinced all the plants would die the minute Jason left her alone with them), whilst Howard sat on the other end of the sofa, computer in his lap, staring intently at the screen. Jason sighed and shook his head fondly, coming to stand behind the sofa. He bent over, wrapping his arms slowly around Howard so they crossed over the top of Howard’s chest then planting a quick kiss to his cheek. Howard smiled, slowly taking his eyes off the computer screen to look up at Jason. He stretched up slightly and answered Jason’s kiss with one of his own on Jason’s lips. Jason smiled at him, squeezing his arms a little tighter around him.
“So...I just got off the phone with my brother...” he began tentatively. Howard’s expression wavered slightly and Jason’s eyes were sympathetic.
“Is he still coming to the airport?” Howard enquired stiffly.
“You know that’s nonnegotiable, How. He’s bringing my mum...and she will kill you if you keep me away from her for any longer than you already have,” Jason told him gently, his eyes gently playful but his tone far from mocking.
I don’t like doing this to him. Ever since Emily, him and my family have been a balancing act. And he is the only one making any effort to let me balance him.
“I don’t want to get on the wrong side of your mother. That’s almost as bad as getting on the wrong side of you,” Howard remarked with a half-hearted smile. Jason smiled too, soft and quiet.
“It’s not all bad. He’s agreed to take your car so you get the honour of driving me home,” he pointed out. Howard didn’t miss the emphasis on home and he was powerless against the smile that it brought. He was beginning to realise that, for a long time now, he had been using the pain of missing Jason to dull the pain of missing home. And it was a reasonable strategy really; the pain of missing Jason tended to eclipse a lot of things.
“So I get to drive you home...but with your brother and your mother on the backseat,” Howard grumbled slightly.
“Well it’s not like you can kiss me whilst you’re driving anyway,” Jason smirked and Howard was only slightly annoyed that that won Jason the chuckle he’d been aiming for.
“I could’ve tried though,” he grinned up at Jason, who laughed fondly.
“Mm, I’m sure you would’ve loved to try, but no such luck,” he replied. He squeezed Howard again, resting their heads together. Howard glanced down awkwardly at his hands.
“Are you um...are you going to tell them...when they ask why we decided to come back so suddenly? I mean, are you going to explain what happened? What I did and...and what I said to you...” he trailed off, chewing his lip and avoiding looking at Jason.
He knows they’d only listen to one side of that story.
“I’ll tell ‘em it’s coz I wanted to come home. And I’ll tell ‘em it’s coz you let me come home,” Jason said quietly. Howard smiled a very small smile and silently pressed a kiss to Jason’s forearm.
“I don’t want them to know I hurt you,” he all but whispered, his breath brushing the damp skin where his kiss had just been. Jason pressed a kiss of his own to Howard’s temple.
“I’d be more worried if you couldn’t hurt me,” he murmured and Howard’s brow creased slightly.
“Why?” he asked, looking slowly up into Jason’s eyes.
“Not everyone is allowed that close to me, How. But I like it that I let you be,” he shrugged and Howard smiled a smile that Jason was happy to return.
“I like it that you let me be too,” Howard told him and Jason laughed.
“Yeah you do,” he agreed, planting a kiss on Howard’s lips.
Kisses are the only punctuation sometimes.
“So come on, break the bad news; who else is going to come over this afternoon?” Howard sighed, pulling back from the kiss and looking up into Jason’s eyes nervously.
“My dad,” Jason said, wincing slightly. Howard smiled a lopsided smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Well that’s not so bad,” he replied unconvincingly.
My dad is the worst, actually. After Justin, my dad gave him the hardest time.
“None of it will matter if you’re not packed though,” Jason pointed out and Howard laughed.
“Do you have that little faith in me? Packing is done!” he protested but Jason raised an eyebrow.
“I’ve been in the bedroom...with the cases...this entire time...” he remarked sceptically.
“I know, so I just shoved everything that was left in my hand-luggage,” Howard grinned back. Jason looked at him steadily for a moment then crumpled into a laugh.
“I’m really not sure they’re going to let me take you through security,” he chuckled.
“I don’t remember seeing my name on the banned items list,” Howard countered, his voice laced with laughter and teasing. Jason simply rolled his eyes.
“No, but maybe they should consider it. Or maybe not – for my sake anyway, since I need you as my human tranquilizer,” Jason sighed, pulling a face.
“Still not comfortable with the concept of planes, love?” Howard smiled sympathetically. He knew the answer he would receive off by heart but it was a routine they were both happy to perform.
“They’re improbable, unlikely and unnatural,” Jason listed, true to form, and Howard smiled kindly, kissing his forearm once more then looking up into Jason’s eyes.
“Then I guess I’ll just have to sort my packing so they let me on board to protect you,” he said softly, making Jason smile.
“Love you,” he stated.
“You too,” Howard replied with ease. Jason smiled quietly, giving Howard one more quick kiss on his cheek before standing up straight. His hand lingered on Howard’s shoulder a moment longer than was strictly necessary before he turned and left the room and Howard leant his head back on the sofa as he watched Jason leave; a thin cardigan was hanging loosely off his frame, his hands in his pockets. To the untrained eye he looked calm. Howard knew better. He forced himself up off the sofa and back to work, aware that Jason needed everything to be just-so before he could even begin to be calm again. Howard grabbed up his bag and followed Jason down the corridor.
It took them no more than half an hour to descend into a rush of to-and-fro, passing each other in the corridor and meeting occasionally for exchanges of belongings; trade-offs where last minute items of Howard’s were given over in exchange for important items of travel-documentation which Howard had neglected to give Jason earlier. Monika watched them both from the sofa, taking her headphones out in order to properly appreciate the spectacle; in their entire time with her she had not seen either of them move so fast. What she was less surprised by, however, was how in-sync they were. Always meeting at just the right moment, crossing paths at the perfect point, finding they had just the right amount of time before moving into a different room to call out some important information to each other. It wasn’t a talent of theirs she had seen often, if at all, since they’d arrived. But she had always suspected it was there, waiting to be used. Before she had time to dwell on it, however, Jason all but threw a sheet of important information at her, calling something about needing a German to book a taxi.
“Do they not have taxis in your country?!” she yelled after him with teasing sarcasm as he made his way out of the room. He waved a hand at her dismissively before dodging past Howard who paused a moment to grin at Monika.
“He bossing you around?” he asked and Monika shook her head slightly.
“Not as much as he’s bossing you around!” she shot back happily before getting up and going off in search of the phone. Howard chuckled to himself.
She’s right. And I fucking love it.
By the time Jason and Howard’s paths crossed once more, Monika had resettled herself on the sofa whilst both men continued to busy themselves around her, their paces slowing gradually until eventually they were stood right in front of her, facing each other.
“Passports?” Howard asked Jason hopefully and Jason smirked, reaching into the pocket of his jeans and producing two passports (one battered to the maximum extent allowed before a new one was required, the other as crisp as the day it had arrived.) Howard grinned.
“My laptop?” Jason asked him then.
“Back in its bag...and I put the wire back too,” Howard nodded.
“And your stuff?” Jason questioned.
“Packed. Yours?” Howard shot back quickly, his eyes playful.
“Packed, of course,” Jason beamed back at him.
“What a team!” Howard laughed softly, offering out a hand. Jason nodded happily, giving Howard the high-five he was waiting for. Howard’s smile widened and he caught hold of Jason’s hand before he pulled it back, dragging Jason closer to him and pressing a kiss to his forehead. As he pulled back he looked into Jason’s eyes, which were shining up at him with something he couldn’t quite place.
Gratitude? Because he knows I’m trying to make him calm, keep him safe. I’m always trying to keep him safe, I just screw it up sometimes. And he just looks so breakable, doesn’t he? Maybe not to the rest of the world. But he always has to me...he lets me see him be breakable though. Just me.
“Er, excuse me boys, but I seem to remember I was the one who booked the taxi for you!” Monika interrupted the moment. Both men looked over at her then. A mischievous look danced in Jason’s eyes and he exchanged a glance with Howard before both men flopped down onto the sofa either side of Monika. Each flung an arm across the back of the sofa, looking at her intently. Monika looked between them in confusion.
“Monika...” Howard began.
“Dearest, sweetest Monika,” Jason corrected, just keeping the smirk off his lips. Howard suppressed his own smile and nodded in agreement.
“Dearest, sweetest Monika,” he echoed.
“We are, of course, so sorry for the cruel error we just made,” Jason continued.
“Cruel, heartless error,” Howard interjected.
“Cruel, heartless error,” Jason nodded, eyes glitteringly blue.
“It is, of course, true that no team would be complete without you,” Howard pressed on.
“However,” Jason put in.
“However,” Howard repeated. Monika frowned, looking between them once more.
“However?!” she asked, amused but in want of a serious answer.
“However...there’s a piece of paper with some lovely signatures on that proves me and Jason are a team...” Howard shrugged, smiling playfully.
“And we got these nice, fancy rings as part of the deal...not that my husband is wearing his right now. But trust me, they exist,” Jason nodded, rolling his eyes affectionately as Howard looked down at his ring-finger in surprise before waving his own ring finger elegantly at Monika.
“I despair of you. The pair of you,” she sighed.
“You love us. The pair of us,” Jason told her resolutely, giving her shoulders a squeeze.
“Jay...” Howard put in, still frowning at his ring-finger. Jason leant back from hugging Monika and smiled at Howard fondly, reaching back into his pocket and this time producing Howard’s ring.
“You left it in the kitchen when you did the dishes last night, I was wondering how long it’d take you to notice” he chuckled, handing it over. Howard smiled sheepishly, putting it back on.
“Look on the bright side, at least you didn’t let it go down the drain,” Monika assured him.
“Wise words,” Jason added, winking at Howard who smiled back.
Wise words. I agree.
“Ok, well, I’m going to get the bags off the bed and take them downstairs. I’ll buzz the flat when the taxi comes, yeah?” Howard offered with a sigh.
“Sounds like a plan,” Jason agreed softly. Howard pushed himself up and walked around the back of the sofa, pausing to plant a kiss on the top of Jason’s head before he made off towards the bedroom. Monika chewed on her lip thoughtfully and she and Jason sat in contemplative silence as Howard hauled bags up and down, eventually disappearing from the flat entirely.
“So I guess you’re really off then,” Monika sighed at last. Jason smiled with a strange mix of delight and sadness, avoiding Monika’s eyes.
“You said it yourself, home is home,” he nodded slowly.
“Damn me and my big mouth, now I need to find new flatmates...who will do as much housework for me as you’ve done!” she laughed. Jason looked up then, his eyes met hers and he smiled.
“You should’ve just said it in German, I wouldn’t have had a clue,” he said with a grin that Monika returned with a quick roll of her eyes.
“No...actually, you know what I think? I think it wouldn’t have made a scrap of difference. You and Howard were always homeward bound – you were just the only two people who didn’t know it,” she told him gently. Jason sighed thoughtfully, regarding Monika for a drawn out moment.
“Actually...I meant to say before but...I wanted to thank you...I mean really thank you,” he said softly. Monika raised an eyebrow.
“Me? Why?!” she asked. Jason looked up at her with his startling eyes.
“For...well, for saving my marriage...” he murmured and Monika pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes at him a little then shaking her head.
“Jay, don’t be daft. You and Howard are meant for each other, any idiot knows that. You two would’ve sorted it out eventually,” she dismissed, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“Maybe...maybe,” he said, looking down.
“Come on, you know it, everyone knows it. You and Howard is just like...I don’t know...physics or something!” Monika insisted, shrugging her shoulders slightly. Jason laughed softly.
The earth turns, the tide comes in and I love Howard Donald. I know that much.
“Yeah, well, I guess. And maybe it would’ve still got to here eventually but...don’t dismiss it, ok? You looked out for me. Other than Howard...I don’t really have that many people who do that. Coz they just...leave me to look out for them instead. In fact, I don’t even look out for me...I don’t ever look out for me really. Which actually drives Howard insane sometimes. But you...you looked out for me – unprompted and without making a big deal of it – and it meant you stepped in at the right time with the right words and...just...thank you. You’re a good friend, a proper friend, and I really needed that...and I’m grateful for it, ok?” Jason explained, looking Monika in the eye. She smiled slightly and leant over, wrapping him in a firm hug.
“Ok then. But you’re welcome, you know. You’ll always be welcome to my friendship,” she said quietly. She just had time to give him one more squeeze before the buzzer for the flat interrupted the moment and the two of them slowly had to part.
Chapter Seventeen
“Jay?” Howard was slightly surprised by the sound of his own voice, soft as it was. Jason looked up at him instantly, though he didn’t seem as startled as Howard by the interruption to the companionable silence that had existed between them for the best part of an hour. Howard half-wondered if Jason had been expecting the interruption, always knowing Howard that little bit better than Howard knew himself. But then, Howard supposed, no truce of silence ever did last long between them. Most were broken with flirts and kisses, some were broken with screams and slamming doors. They could go through every extreme with each other in the space of a week and yet still, at the end of it all, Howard would usually find the word ‘Jay’ on his lips and he suspected Jason knew that it had been written there ever since the day Jason had offered it to him.
I’ll let you call me Jay. Then he let me call him ‘everything’ and the wording stopped mattering. But I always come back to ‘Jay’. It was like an invitation to the sort of intimacy passing strangers shouldn’t even glimpse. At the end of the day we’re all just passing strangers until someone offers up a name. And he offered me his. Jay. Everything starts there.
“What’s wrong, love?” Jason asked, slowly closing his book. He closed it on his finger to mark the page, but the book had lost his attention entirely, that much was clear. His eyes met Howard’s and he smiled, for a moment letting them both forget where they were. Neither one of them was the sort to believe in ‘Now is not the time’ and so they let the look linger. Howard was the first to force himself to look away. Jason’s head tilted slightly, his expression creasing into concern.
“Do you ever...do you ever just start thinking about something...and even though you don’t get why you’re thinking about it, you just...you can’t stop? Like...you feel like there’s something you ought to be able to figure out for yourself but you can’t?” Howard stuttered out at last. Jason laughed softly and shook his head. His blue eyes were dazzlingly bright as he smiled, distracting Howard briefly.
“I always knew you married me for my looks and not my personality,” Jason sighed teasingly. Howard frowned for a moment until slowly it dawned on him.
Thinking. His specialty.
“No...I didn’t...ok, so that was a stupid question but...you know what I mean, right?” he asked hopefully. Jason smiled, nodding slowly, all kindness and affection once more. Those blue eyes of his were still sparkling with light laughter though. Howard had no desire for that to change.
“How, just tell me what’s wrong,” Jason pressed gently, subtly sliding the bookmark into his book before discarding the book entirely. Howard smiled slightly and shook his head.
“It’s probably stupid,” he dismissed.
“Stupid can be beautiful sometimes, broken can be beautiful. Fucked up can be beautiful, we both know that. You just have to put it into context. I think you’re beautiful, so I think what you have to say must be beautiful too,” Jason shrugged. He was leaning slightly towards Howard now. They didn’t touch; Howard’s hands still fiddled with his headphones and Jason’s were folded in his lap, but Howard still felt a shiver between his shoulder blades as Jason’s eyes skimmed across him. A blue, glittering shiver that made its way across his whole body before rebounding. Howard saw it hit Jason too, whose smile quirked just a little in reaction.
“Are you flirting with me?” Howard asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Always,” Jason smiled, his eyes alive with mischief and love and a thousand different shades of blue. Howard forgot, for a moment, that there was any serious agenda, watching Jason’s raised eyebrow, his flirtatious smile.
“Jason Orange, I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to even think what you’re thinking whilst on a plane,” Howard teased and Jason laughed, pulling a face and shaking his head.
“It’s fine, you can kill it just by using the word plane,” he countered.
“How are you with cars?” Howard asked and Jason rolled his eyes.
“I’m not a teenager – I will not kiss you in the backseat, Howard Donald. Find me a public place, I’ll let you kiss me there, where I can trust you to behave,” he smirked.
“Never trust me to behave in any place with you,” Howard grinned back without shame. Jason simply laughed, shaking his head then leaning back in his seat.
“So, is this what you’ve been thinking about all this time? Or is there something more going on in that head of yours?” he asked. Howard pulled a face. He also sat back, briefly looking away from Jason but finding his eyes straying back. Jason was watching him, silently contemplative.
“When I overreacted yesterday...when I...when I let myself get back to that place in my head so quickly, despite everything, despite everything you said that I should’ve listened to (and I did listen to) but I....well...when I did that, you didn’t get angry. I was being an idiot but you just...you let it be...” Howard trailed off, closing his eyes a moment and letting out a long breath.
“You weren’t being an idiot, How,” Jason said gently.
“I was,” Howard muttered without opening his eyes.
“Love, you are the biggest idiot of them all sometimes but...that wasn’t one of those times. You know I know you were looking out for me, nothing more,” Jason insisted. Howard opened his eyes then, regarding Jason carefully before looking down at his hands.
“You said you ‘got it’,” he murmured.
“I do,” Jason told him with quiet confidence edging his tone, forcing Howard to meet his eyes again.
“That’s more than I do, Jay. All I want to do is keep you safe but I just...I end up hurting you. And I can’t stand that I just keep hurting you when all I’ve ever wanted is to keep you safe,” Howard admitted after a beat. Jason smiled.
“See, you get it too,” he said and Howard frowned.
“What?” he asked.
“I’ve always wanted to be in control of things. I don’t know when it started or...I just know I have always been that way. But it never...it never defined me, you know? I had to...keep people at arm’s length, I guess. People do not pick me up, take me by the hand, lead me, carry me, initiate something more than what I let them – those were my rules. You were my exception. Then Emily happened. And now I...I struggle to remember that exceptions are ok. Sometimes I even have to fight to know what’s me being me and what’s me reacting to what she did. And I overcompensate sometimes. And I lose myself. It’s part of who I am now...it crept up on me and I’m still trying to figure it out and sometimes it gets out of hand. But I know you will never judge me for it...and that’s all that really matters to me,” Jason explained, slow and quiet.
It’s one of those moments. Of pure exposure. Like the times he has gripped my hand behind our backs and no one but me and him knew he was scared. Or the times he has laughed an entirely uninhibited laugh at nothing at all and trusted me not to call him an idiot. But why now?
“I don’t...” Howard began but Jason shook his head to cut him off.
“You weren’t immune either, love,” he said gently, looking up at Howard with his piercing eyes.
“To...to what?” Howard stammered, though something was tugging at the back of his memory. Tugging so hard that he was almost overcome by it.
“You know what,” Jason insisted. And Howard knew he was right, because there that something was again, tugging and tugging and fighting to be remembered for exactly what it was.
Loss. Gnawing, hopeless loss. The sort of loss that is not just empty but tearless too.
He looked away from Jason, staring out of the window. He wasn’t sure how long he stared. But he felt Jason’s eyes on him the entire time, which served to balance out the loss somewhat. That feeling of something gripping on his ribs and trying to break them eased a little with Jason’s willingness to be nothing more than present. Because being present was what Howard needed him to be more than anything else after the memory of his absence hit. Eventually Howard sucked in a breath.
“For half an hour (and for the odd moment of fear and one or two attacks of complete self-doubt afterwards)...for half an hour I...I thought I’d lost you forever,” he confessed at last. Jason looked down then and Howard felt his gaze slip away.
“You’re overprotective, How. You always have been. It drives me completely insane but...I completely love that about you. You’re jealous, you’re an idiot...and you’re always convinced you have to protect me,” Jason murmured. Howard smiled slightly.
“Thinking I’d fought so hard and still fucked it up...I just...” he trailed off.
“I stopped trusting anyone to be in control, you stopped trusting the world not to swallow me whole,” Jason supplied quietly.
“Almost every fight comes down to that doesn’t it,” Howard realised and Jason laughed softly.
“I guess. This past year we have both been overcompensating...but that only made it worse,” he remarked. Howard glanced over at him.
“Yesterday...I didn’t even realise it sounded so crazy. Not until I’d said it. Every little thing though...it matters because I know what not having you is like. I know what it feels like to have to think about something happening to you and me not getting you back and...” Howard stopped. He closed his mouth and closed his eyes. Silently Jason reached across, placing one hand on top of Howard’s and interlacing their fingers.
“I came back though,” he whispered.
“I don’t want to take my chances,” Howard replied without opening his eyes. They sat in silence a moment, Jason’s grip still firm on Howard’s hand.
“For what it’s worth, love...I’d rather have spent this fucked up year with you than have spent a year in paradise with someone else,” Jason said quietly. Howard finally opened his eyes.
Well if that’s not love then love doesn’t exist.
It wasn’t until they were safely back on the ground that Howard’s fears began to surface again. Jason was standing a small way away from him, watching as he dragged cases from the carousel to the trolley. Howard kept glancing back at him as they waited for the rest of their luggage, his eyes darting between Jason and the others who were waiting around them. It always fascinated him – other people’s reaction to Jason and, more importantly, people’s reaction when they saw that Jason was all his. When he took Jason to gigs with him, sometimes he would pull Jason to him mid-dance, whispering flirts and mischief in his ear and watching for faces in the crowd reacting when Jason fell into him as he laughed. Today Jason was more quietly his; the only real proof was Howard’s jacket, which Jason was pulling around himself tightly. The sleeves were too long and the fabric dwarfed him but when Howard had wrapped it around his shoulders he had smiled with such sleepy warmth that Howard found it easy to conclude that the outfit suited him. He wanted everyone else to see it too; the smile and the glow and the belonging that Jason had shown in that moment.
Belonging, that’s the important one. I want them all to notice that this man – who doesn’t let anyone take ownership of him – is standing over there being all mine. Just casually. Like it doesn’t mean the fucking world to me.
Howard let out a sigh, turning around and dragging the final case across and onto the trolley.
“That’s the last one,” he informed Jason, straightening up and stretching out his back slightly. Jason smiled back at him, coming over and putting his arms around Howard’s neck.
“Mm, I love being the girl in this relationship,” he smirked, rising up briefly to give Howard a peck on his lips before leaning back, letting Howard wrap his arms around his waist.
“You’re a lazy beggar, Orange,” Howard chuckled and Jason shrugged idly.
“I am what you made me, Donald; spoilt in the extreme,” he beamed. Howard’s eyes glittered and he pressed a kiss to Jason’s forehead.
“Now all I need is to find a way to sneak out of this place without your family seeing us and we’ll be golden,” he sighed. Jason looked up at him for a moment, tilting his head to one side. His fingers played absently with the ends of Howard’s hair. Howard felt his fingertips brush the back of his neck.
“You’re a wonderful man, Howard Donald. And I love you. That’s all my family need to know,” Jason said gently. Howard smiled down at him, giving him another kiss on his forehead.
“No, they should know that I love you too,” he answered. Jason stretched up enough to hug Howard tightly before stepping back from the embrace.
“You ready for this then?” he asked kindly and Howard nodded, putting his hands on the trolley’s handle and staring in the direction of the exits.
“As I’ll ever be,” he muttered with a roll of his eyes. Just as he had on the plane before, Jason simply placed one hand on top of Howard’s.
Belonging. It’s all he wants anyone to notice too.
In the arrivals hall, Gary and Mark had spent an awkward half an hour trying to stay out of everyone else’s way, eventually retreating to the safety of the cafe and choosing to drink tea and wait from a distance rather than join the uncomfortable group which had formed near the doors. Jason’s mother – a woman frequently credited for Jason’s remarkably patient nature – was muttering softly under her breath about delayed flights and Howard’s ability to hold her son up in an uncharacteristic display of fluster, whilst Justin stood by her side, taking a series of calls on his mobile from various brothers and cousins, trying to persuade them all to avoid coming to the airport and having to beg them to call Jason before turning up at the apartment. Behind them Howard’s mother was doing her best to calm Grace down, pretending not to hear any of the passing comments the Orange family made about her son. Gary and Mark had attempted to not look like spare parts, but they had both been painfully aware that they weren’t family. And both had felt a level of guilt nagging at their minds.
We didn’t pay attention, me and Mark. We were caught up with our own dramas and they became the important thing. I don’t think we ever paid enough attention and now...well, now I wish I had. Because maybe then I wouldn’t feel like Howard and Jason are going to walk through those doors and be people I don’t recognise. Or worse; be people who don’t want to recognise me.
Mark looked down into his tea as Gary stared off to the side, watching Justin fielding yet more calls whilst Grace ran over to check the arrivals board one more time. He barely focused on what he was looking at, busy going back over opportunities missed, warnings he had left unheeded. When he thought back to the argument he and Jason had had he cringed. Some of the things he’d said, the words he’d used. Everything he knew about Jason should’ve told him he was saying the wrong things. But he’d just ploughed on.
Mark sighed, looking up at Gary and smiling fondly. He touched a gentle hand to Gary’s across the table, stroking his thumb along Gary’s skin and tilting his head.
“Come on, Gaz, you should be happy; the band are getting back together,” he grinned, that cheeky Mark Owen sparkle lighting up his eyes. Infectious as it was, Mark’s light only raised a half-hearted smile from Gary.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have come today. Maybe we should’ve left it, gone round later and talked it out a bit more,” Gary sighed after a moment, sipping his own tea and shaking his head slightly. Mark chewed his lip thoughtfully, a small frown creasing his brow.
“Did he say anything to you when he called last night?” he asked. He didn’t know what had been said between Gary and Jason over the course of the past year. All Gary would tell him was that words had been exchanged, that he had said the wrong thing and Jason had lost his temper. That had been enough to alarm Mark, as the occasions Jason lost control of his temper were rare.
“I said some things I wasn’t proud of that night, you know?” Gary said softly.
“Last night?!” Mark frowned in confusion and Gary chuckled at him softly, rolling his eyes.
“Not last night you plonker...I meant when we...when we had that fight,” Gary corrected him.
“Oh...ok. But does that matter anymore? I mean...I called him this morning and...he seemed fine. He seemed like we were fine, all of us,” Mark put in, shrugging slightly.
I can’t help but notice Mark doesn’t sound entirely confident about that.
“I’m not saying that he’s not...that it’s not ok now. From his point of view I think it is. But the thing I am trying to get my head around is that I didn’t try and do something. I didn’t even realise how I was coming across, you know? And that’s what eats me up, Marko. I could’ve fixed it. If I’d been paying attention I could’ve helped. Or I could’ve tried at least,” Gary admitted, running his tongue briefly over his top lip and looking away. Mark smiled slightly, giving Gary’s hand a squeeze.
“Poor Gary Barlow, always trying to save the world,” he said gently, his eyes bright. Gary looked up at him slowly, a wry smile just touching his lips.
“I just want to make a difference somewhere. If I can’t do it with music, is it really so much to ask to want to help my friends?” he asked.
“No. Maybe not. But you can’t do everything. I know what you’re like, Gaz. Always working, always with a project. And that’s all well and good but if you keep it up you’re going to tire yourself out,” Mark told him, letting out a soft laugh.
“Mark!” Gary protested, slight amusement rising in his voice.
“What?! It’s the truth isn’t it? You always have to be doing something! You are the hardest working man I’ve ever met and what’s bugging you is that there was something there that needed work and you didn’t work at it,” Mark shrugged, leaning back in his seat, his hand slipping out of Gary’s.
This man knows me far too well.
“You say that Marko, but I can’t just turn it off like that. Until I know for sure there was nothing I could do it’s going to drive me mad,” Gary replied. Mark nodded.
“I know. But I also know Jay and Howard – there is no one who can fix them better than they can. Something tells me that’s not changed much,” he smirked and Gary chuckled.
“Not if the phone calls we’ve exchanged these past two days are anything to go by,” he agreed.
“Jay would not take so much nonsense from anyone else,” Mark grinned back. He leant forward again then, putting down his tea and resting his chin on his hand, looking over to where Grace was bobbing about excitedly. Gary followed his gaze.
“Except maybe that lot,” he remarked with a smirk and Mark smiled, turning back to look at Gary.
“I don’t know, I think Howard’s got the edge. You’ve got the edge for me,” he said and Gary met his eyes, holding his gaze a moment before leaning across the table and giving Mark a brief kiss.
He’s always been a sweetie, my Marko.
The moment was cut by a sudden commotion across the hall and Mark and Gary both turned in time to see Howard and Jason emerging through the doors. Jason was wearing a jacket that looked suspiciously like Howard’s, whispering something conspiratorially in Howard’s ear before looking over to where his mother and brother were standing and flashing them a smile.
“Do you think Jay will trust me again?” Mark asked softly as he watched Grace bolt over to her dad, barrelling into him and letting him scoop her up into his arms.
“Trust you?!” Gary frowned confused.
He told me he called Jay this morning...I thought they’d cleared the air.
Mark looked down at his hands then slowly back up into Gary’s eyes.
“Trust me not to hurt you,” he explained, soft and nervous. Gary looked at him carefully a moment, a lazy smile just creeping up towards his lips. Mark’s hair had been raked through with nervous fingers, his nails were bitten, his eyes were a shade of greyish blue that belonged to life’s worriers. And Mark would always be one of life’s worriers, obsessed with every last detail.
“Well, I trust you,” he said simply. Mark’s smile was instant, his eyes sparkling to life.
“Really?” he asked and Gary laughed.
“Really, you daft sod. And Jay will too you know. I know he’s not the most trusting man in the world but...he’s a great believer in second chances. He did marry Howard after all,” he pointed out. Mark chuckled and shook his head.
“You’re lucky I get your sense of humour, Gaz, otherwise your wit would get you in so much trouble,” he shot back.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about. Now come on, let’s go over and say hello,” Gary countered, smothering a smirk and making a move away from the table as Mark hurriedly grabbed up his scarf and bag whilst trying to finish off his drink at the same time.
As Mark dithered, the welcoming process got underway. Howard was still hugging Grace tightly and Jason had paused before going to greet his mother, choosing instead to watch Grace and Howard, sharing a smile with Grace over Howard’s shoulder.
“I missed you,” Grace told Howard happily, closing her eyes a moment. Howard smiled.
“I missed you too, sweetheart,” he told her, giving her a kiss before slowly setting her back down.
“And you, Jay,” Grace beamed as her feet touched the ground, promptly wrapping her arms around Jason’s waist.
“You say that now, but in two weeks time? Completely bored of me,” he teased, giving her a squeeze then letting her go back to Howard. He and Howard exchanged a brief glance before going any further. Howard smiled an unconvincing smile and Jason sighed, nodding to himself before pushing the trolley the small distance left between them and his family.
Justin, if you say anything you shouldn’t, I swear to God I will ram this trolley at your knees. I am twenty minutes older than you, I am well within my rights.
“Oh thank goodness! I was starting to think that man had had a change of heart and dragged you back to Germany with him!” Jason’s mother descended upon him with an overpowering hug. Howard swallowed and looked down, turning to his own mum and giving her a forced smile as he bent over to hug her. Jason closed his eyes and let out a tense sigh.
“Mum, Howard hasn’t had a change of heart since the day we met. And, for the record, neither have I,” he said gently, trying to keep his tone light. Over the top of their mothers’ heads, Jason and Howard shared a smile and Howard’s eyes shone with gratitude. He mouthed ‘Thank you’ but Jason rolled his eyes at him affectionately.
It’s the truth and everyone bloody knows it except my family.
As Jason hugged his mother and brother in turn, giving them a few reassurances that he was alright and had survived the journey home in one piece, he spotted Gary and Mark walking over. They stood a little way back, shoving their hands in their pockets and standing awkwardly, reluctant to intrude on the moment. Jason simply smiled at them, giving them a wink before turning to Howard’s mother. After a brief hug he straightened up and cast his eyes over the group. Howard grinned to himself as he watched it; everyone there knew Jason was about to take charge.
“Justin, make yourself useful and take the bags to the car? Mum, I need you and Grace to nip over to the shop and get me a water and Howard and me will meet you outside in five minutes...” Jason turned to Howard then who smiled and obediently turned to his own mother.
“See you back at our place?” he asked and she smiled.
“Of course – Grace is going back with you I presume?” she checked and Howard looked to Jason who simply rolled his eyes.
“Come on, like I’m going to tell her to get out the car!” he laughed and Howard smiled.
“Thank you,” he said as the others began to move off.
“Shush, it’s nothing,” Jason shrugged.
“I meant thank you for being my husband actually,” Howard smiled and Jason glanced up at him, returning his playful smile and shaking his head slightly.
“My pleasure,” he said sincerely, giving Howard a quick kiss before turning around to face Mark and Gary. Mark hid slightly behind Gary, giving a nervous wave as Gary stretched out his arms.
“Hello strangers,” Gary beamed, his smile dazzling. All his outstretched arms were missing were jazz hands but still Jason gladly accepted the showbiz hug.
Oh Gaz, ever the showman.
It wasn’t until hours later that Jason and Howard finally found themselves standing still again. Jason was forced to see to the needs of two half-sisters, one step-sister, two brothers (as well as Justin) and both his parents, repeating assurances of his wellness and his health as well as having to tell them, in great detail, anything of interest that may or may not have occurred since they had last had the chance to see him in person. Despite all the fuss Jason stayed by Howard’s side; people had to come to him if they wanted to talk, and if they didn’t, he spoke to Howard and Howard alone. It was taken, by Howard at least, as a silent declaration of war. Jason was, from now onwards, determined to change his family’s attitude. And he was starting by not breathing a word of what had really happened between himself and Howard whilst they’d been away, something Howard was grateful for but Jason would not let him treat as extraordinary. To Jason it was simple; his loyalty lay with Howard, because Howard wasn’t forcing him to choose. In any case he knew that his family would only take heed of one side of the story despite the fact that neither he nor Howard had been perfect or blameless. Howard, for his part, talked to his own parents, put in a couple of phone calls to siblings and he and Jason, in a rare moment of peace from the Orange contingent, chatted to Mark and Gary, intrigued to know more about Mark’s grand reappearance in Manchester. In return Mark and Gary managed to pry brief details from Jason of his and Howard’s arguments, but Jason, ever-observant, told them both to ask him another time as he spotted his dad bearing down on him for yet another hug.
I don’t mind Mark and Gary knowing. Between the four of us we’ve done some pretty fucked up things. But Jay’s dad? I’d rather he was none-the-wiser. Only the best for his son, right?
Howard knew the afternoon was just as hard on Jason as it was on him. He knew Jason too well to believe the smiles and the light-hearted jokes he shared with his family. Maybe his family knew it too, deep down, but Jason was giving them his time, out of courtesy and love, and they wanted to ignore any superficiality lingering in the brightness of Jason’s laugh. Howard did all it was he could do; place a quiet hand on the small of Jason’s back every now and again. No one but he and Jason knew that Jason leant into that hand, weak and heavy and more tired than he cared to let on. In a way it was a secret acknowledgement between the two of them, an acceptance of the fact that they weren’t quite ok just yet. Because Jason couldn’t settle until the bags were unpacked, until he’d walked around every room of the apartment and made sure it was exactly as he wanted it to be. And as for Howard, he just wanted Jason back to himself. He didn’t care if it was selfish or stupid – he wanted them to be able to just relax, be daft together again.
And I’m the only one he’ll really be daft with. I like when it’s like that. When it’s like that I can be certain that he’s ok again, that I’m looking after him right again.
Jason had spent several long hours unpacking after everyone had left and, knowing better than to stop him, Howard had spent the time with Grace, being careful to look up each time Jason passed by, always catching his eye at just the right moment. He even won himself a few smiles. Nearly there, Jason’s eyes read. And, eventually, as it started to rain outside, Howard found himself standing in the living room with nothing left to do. Grace was in bed, the front door was locked and the answer-phone hastily turned on following the final call of the day. He smiled to himself, the words ‘At bloody last’ briefly entering his head before he chuckled to himself and headed for the bedroom, where Jason had retreated the moment the phone had rung. He was done with people for one day.
Done with people but not done with me. Stupid bugger; for some reason he is never done with me.
When Howard came into the bedroom he saw Jason standing by the window, watching the rain melt the Manchester snow outside. Howard smiled to himself slightly, pausing to watch Jason for a moment. Since they’d met he’d watched Jason stare out of so many windows. He’d seen it so often he knew all the different stares, which were troubled and which were thoughtful, which were upset or angry. This stare was none of those, this stare was simply tired. Contented, perhaps, but Howard could see the tiredness more than anything, he’d felt it radiating from Jason for most of the afternoon. Drawing in a breath and just managing to keep his smile in check, Howard came up behind Jason quietly, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing the crook of his neck. Jason smiled as Howard clamped his arms tightly around his middle and he placed his own hands on top of Howard’s, leaning back against his chest.
“Who was on the phone?” he asked with a sigh and Howard squeezed him a little tighter.
“Just Oliver, making sure his big brother is alive, saying sorry he couldn’t make it this afternoon. I told him it was mad enough here today without him joining in and he seemed to get the picture,” he said with a soft chuckle. Jason tilted his head to look up at Howard properly.
“You didn’t have to talk to him you know, I would’ve come if you’d said,” he murmured and Howard shrugged, a sly smile playing on his lips as he looked down at Jason.
“Nah, it’s fine. Oliver’s always liked me ever since I introduced him to them girls who work at the club up town,” he grinned and Jason laughed, shaking his head fondly.
“God knows why, those sorts of girls will only break his heart,” Jason remarked, turning back to look out of the window. Howard felt Jason lean into him a little more and he let him, watching his blue eyes reflect the red and amber city outside. He blinked several times in quick succession, long lashes brushing against his skin and coupled with a brief flash of tongue on his top lip – the flicker of some deep thought being pushed away, Howard suspected.
“Are you trying to tell me that people of loose morals can’t change for the right person?” Howard asked with a smile and Jason’s lips quirked up. He turned in Howard’s embrace, putting his arms around Howard’s neck and looking up at him.
“I’m saying that them girls probably liked the fact my little brother is a gentleman, but the novelty will have had to have worn off by now, no matter how nice my brother was to them. And anyway, not one of those girls has a heart like yours, How, that’s why you’re with me right now and none of them are,” Jason smirked, kissing Howard once on the lips then leaning back in his arms.
“You shouldn’t be too harsh on them girls, love, it’s not their fault. I mean, the best brother is already taken, right?” Howard grinned and Jason laughed, rolling his eyes.
“That’s your opinion, love,” he pointed out.
“And my opinion is right, just this once, coz you’re worth a million of anyone else on this planet,” Howard said softly, kissing Jason’s forehead.
For a moment Jason looked up at Howard, his eyes glittering but giving away nothing. Then, suppressing a smile, he tucked his head underneath Howard’s chin, slumping against Howard’s chest slightly. And there he was; dressed up in jeans, an old hoody and Howard’s arms, his eyes pale blue and smattered with the city’s lights. It was one of a thousand little moments which had added up over the years, millions of little fragments of a man Howard had never imagined before he met him and had never seen anyone match up to since. This man was the same man who was the perpetually busy second-eldest child of Tony and Jenny Orange, who still used the matter of minutes between himself and his twin for leverage, who accidentally managed to make himself the centre of any room he walked into, who had once danced on a table with Mark Owen in a crowded bar and who had once kissed Howard full on the lips in the middle of a song with a pub-full of people (as well as their bandmates) watching. This was the same man who had shouted Howard down, slammed a door and stormed out into the Frankfurt snow.
It’s ridiculous isn’t it, that someone like him could ever think he’s not his own person? He’s several thousand times his own person. When he agreed to marry me – fuck that, when he agreed to talk to me – he gave me a million different men to love. All of them him, all of them stunning. Especially this man, the one with a pale blue Manchester cityscape reflected in his eyes.
“You know I never would’ve got further than that bench, How,” Jason mumbled sleepily, breaking the silence. At first Howard frowned, confused as he surfaced from his own thoughts and was plunged straight into Jason’s. But then slowly he started to understand, a thoughtful smile briefly coming to his lips. He placed a single kiss to the top of Jason’s head then rested his chin there.
“Love, I would’ve only chased you if you had,” he replied.
Chapter Eighteen
Howard’s eyes blinked open, fleetingly, as something moved beside him, momentarily blocking the sunlight which was bouncing off an early-morning snowfall and in through the bedroom window. He closed his eyes again and listened to the sound of something on his bedside table being moved, just managing to raise a sleepy smile as a hand briefly cupped his cheek and a kiss was given to his forehead with perfected softness. The figure moved away, disturbing the shadows across Howard’s face once more, and Howard’s smile widened for a moment before he turned over and let his body become heavy again. He balanced himself, with the skill of an Olympic gymnast, between sleep and waking. It was one of his greatest talents, he thought; recapturing sleep and reigniting his dreams. Whenever he heard people complain about how hard it was to get back inside a dream, he always thought to himself they were simply being too picky, always wanting the exact same dream they had been in to come back to them. He didn’t understand why they couldn’t just focus on some other dream and paint in the details with their closed eyes. He knew he was fortunate that, so very often, he was allowed to wake up to a dream; some strange world where a beautiful and charming man kissed him awake and ordered him around. But all the same, did none of these people have the ability to remember?
Maybe if they all did that they’d stop fucking teasing me when I daydream, they’d all be preoccupied with daydreams of their own then. Only Jay knows my secret...he still teases me for it though. Sometimes.
Untroubled with his inability to recapture whatever dream had been in his head before, Howard simply remembered. A skill he had always had – ever since he was a kid he had used the morning to remember the nicer things – and it had to be said, there were a lot of things nicer than actually getting out of bed. It had made him late for school on more than one occasion, late for some job interviews too but, somehow, never late for work. Well, not seriously late anyway. Maybe ten minutes, give or take. Howard suspected he had honed the skill greatly over the years. Since meeting Jason, that is. It was undeniable that, since he had first met Jason Orange, there had been a whole lot of good memories to choose from. ‘Last Night’ had become his most frequently used title. And this Last Night? Well, an unremarkable affair truth be told.
But the unremarkable ones are usually the best.
Last night when Howard had stood holding Jason for the longest time. Because there was more than enough pleasure in simply being still with Jason, Howard thought. It was a little like that moment of awe when you finally catch a firefly; everything stops and you just watch, holding your breath. And as Howard watched, somewhere amidst the stillness, Jason shifted in Howard’s embrace. Howard’s lips twitched up as a black and white glimpse of it all formed its outline on the insides of his eyelids. Jason had kissed him. He had been tired and requiring Howard to support him, but he had still chosen it. And Jason was so rarely the one who chose to move any evening in such a direction that Howard had almost been too spellbound by the whole wordless thing to react. He had reacted though, with a slowness that matched Jason’s perfectly. Every movement was heavy and loaded with something Howard couldn’t quite place, and didn’t quite want to for fear that putting a name on it might change the magic it held in his mind.
The long, lazy magic.
Howard didn’t know how much later it was when Jason lay his head down or how long it was before the lying to turned to sleep. He just remembered watching Jason fall asleep on his chest. Howard hadn’t fallen asleep for a long time after that, preoccupied with watching Jason, still fascinated at the many men embodied in just one soul. His arm had been across Howard’s stomach and Howard had put a hand on top of it, one thumb stroking Jason’s skin. He had fallen asleep that way, he realised with a smile, and he couldn’t help but wonder how Jason had managed to extricate himself from the bed without waking him that morning. After a moment he realised he was holding his breath again and it occurred to him that maybe he should save this memory.
I should get up.
Reluctantly he rolled over once more, yawning into the pillow then slowly opening his eyes. There had been snow since last night. The rain had gone now, though Howard could still almost hear it in his head, an echo left by the memory of the sound of it on the window and Jason’s breath on his skin, Jason’s skin against his skin...he blinked and let out a sigh, staring at the ceiling. As he forced the memory out of his mind, he turned his head again, studying his bedside table. A mug of coffee had been placed there, though it was the notepaper it was holding in place that attracted Howard’s attention. Pushing himself up in bed a little he reached across, lifting the mug and extricating the note from under it. The note was brief and Howard chuckled softly as he read it; ‘For you – one daydream and a coffee x’ Jason’s handwriting was at a diagonal across the page.
His real gift? A new meaning for the sound of the rain.
As Howard folded the note carefully, tucking it inside a box on his bedside table to join a small collection of other notes Howard deemed special enough to save, he heard the sound of the bathroom door. He looked around just in time to see Jason pass by the bedroom doorway, wandering down the corridor and pulling on a shirt as he went. Howard watched him, a grin playing on his lips that was three parts love and two parts mischief.
Time to get dressed.
Howard was still pulling on his jumper as he came down the corridor and into the lounge and he stopped at the edge of the room to give himself chance to get the sleeves on properly. Jason was standing at the breakfast bar, dressed in tracksuit bottoms and a loose-fitting top, hair still damp from the shower and his back to Howard as he studied one of the many lists which were laid out in front of him. Grace was standing in the kitchen, happily helping Jason cook the evening’s meal and she was the first to spot Howard standing there, looking up from the stirring Jason had her doing and smiling at him. Howard simply put a finger to his lips and moved over towards his husband causing Grace to roll her eyes and turn away.
Carefully Howard came to stand behind his husband, wrapping his arms around his middle and grabbing him close. Jason jumped slightly at the contact, trying to hide his smile as Howard kissed the crook of his neck. Howard could feel him relax into the embrace, betraying him completely.
“Morning, love,” Howard smiled over Jason’s shoulder, tightening his grip and pulling Jason back from the kitchen in a way only he was ever allowed to do.
“Put me down, Howard, seriously!” Jason laughed, struggling unconvincingly in Howard’s grip. Howard simply lifted him up, carrying him a short way and kissing the crook of his neck once more. Jason squirmed, trying to hinder Howard’s attempts to kiss him but failing entirely.
“Nope, not going to happen. Seriously,” Howard chuckled in response, letting Jason’s hands try to budge the arms which were clamped around his waist as he all but spun the two of them round.
“Grace, help me,” Jason whimpered as Howard set him down but refused to loosen his grip. Grace looked up at them and instantly pulled a face of disapproval.
“Dad,” she groaned and Howard simply laughed. Jason was smiling too, his eyes speckled with laughter though he attempted to shoot Howard as withering a gaze as he could muster.
“Unclasp me?” he tried and, slowly, Howard released Jason from the embrace, though he made sure he kept hold of one arm. Jason was only vaguely aware of the sly smile that was on Howard’s lips and Howard didn’t give him the chance to study it too carefully before he turned Jason around to face him with a single, swift movement. Jason had no time to train his reactions as Howard brought their lips together for a kiss.
The advantage of not letting Jay think before he acts? It’s pure impulse. And when it’s pure impulse? It’s usually the exact opposite of whatever he’s insisting he wants.
Howard’s hands moved to press on Jason’s back as the kiss deepened and Jason responded by moving his body still closer to Howard’s, his hands cupping Howard’s face. Howard smiled into the kiss and moved a hand to the centre of Jason’s back, forcing Jason’s spine into a subtle curve that brought Jason more completely into the circle of Howard’s arms. Howard slipped one hand beneath Jason’s top, running his fingertips briefly across his still-damp skin.
“Howard Donald you have a very strange definition of unclasping,” Jason’s breath was hot against Howard’s lips. He smiled at Jason, holding his gaze then giving him one more quick peck to his lips. As he leant back once more to look at him, he saw Jason smiling silently, eyes alight and looking straight into his own.
“Urgh,” Grace’s voice broke the moment and both men laughed. Jason stepped back from the embrace and turned to face Howard’s daughter, eyebrows raised and arms folded.
“Something wrong?” he asked and Grace paused a moment.
“No?” she tried and Jason smirked.
“She didn’t miss us as much as she thought, How,” he said then, giving Howard another quick peck to his cheek before he moved back over to the breakfast bar and set to work. Grace smiled at him as he came back and took her task as his own, letting her move over to a different job entirely. Howard raked a hand through his hair and sighed, watching them for a moment then stretching and rubbing at a crick in his neck.
“Right, I’m going for a shower,” he informed Jason, who glanced back up at him.
“I won’t be tricked when you get back this time,” he warned as Howard made his way out of the room, his eyes narrowed slightly at his husband’s retreating back.
“We’ll see,” Howard called over his shoulder with a smile.
Howard Donald is a bad influence on me. But then...he’s an even worse influence on himself.
When Mark and Gary arrived it was early evening – snow was falling again against a dark blue sky and the stars were just starting to peer out from behind the afternoon’s slowly-departing clouds. Jason was standing by the window when he noticed them down below, Gary helping Mark across the ice. He smiled and rolled his eyes as Mark slipped and almost pulled the two of them over, shaking his head fondly at their continuing progress, both of them clinging to each other as though they were crossing an arctic tundra. It was nice to see them together at least, Jason supposed, even if they were both hopeless cases. He moved away from the bedroom window, grabbing a thin jumper to put over his shirt and pulling it on as he went. He came into the lounge just as the knock on the door sounded through the apartment (Gary’s knock, had to be if it was that unapologetic) and he paused a moment to survey the scene; neither Grace nor Howard looked away from the television, both engrossed in some concert or other. Jason sighed.
I’ll get it then.
It only took Mark until the end of dinner to wheedle from everyone almost every story there was to tell. He had a habit of disarming people and there were no reported cases of immunity from any corner of the globe as yet. He wasn’t unfair, he was content with occasionally offering information of his own, most of which centred on Emma and his time with her in New York. ‘She’s finally got herself into theatre you know – just an understudy but I know she’s going to make it’ he’d enthused at one point, eyes sparkling with excitement for his friend. Jason had smiled at him for that, because, for all his mistakes, there was no better friend to have than Mark. Ok, he might struggle to remember to pick up a phone, but when you had his attention, he was all yours, wholly and completely. A man who would back you with all the enthusiasm he had, even if the rest of the world was telling you that you were crazy. A man who would never say a bad word about you, even when you lashed out at him after a rough day. Even if the rest of the world hated you, he would never accept an invite to join in as long as you were his friend. Jason studied him carefully as he talked, mindful of Gary and everything Mark had put him through. Gary’s smile was undeniable, however, and the two leant into each other unaware, as though they didn’t understand what ‘apart’ even meant. Gary was the lazier of the two, leaning back in the armchair, his voice falling into that slight slur it took on when he was relaxed enough to start joking around. Mark was perching on his lap, occasionally falling back against him, his arms around Gary’s neck, his head tossing back as he laughed. It was reassuring and, if he was honest, Jason didn’t think he’d seen them that happy in such a long time – after all, even when they had first met, there had been so much wrong in both their worlds. Mark had still been trying with all his might to pretend Robbie Williams hadn’t walked out on him and Gary had just dragged himself out of a quagmire of failure-related misery.
Not the best circumstances to meet the love of your life. Howard and me were lucky; he walked in the shop on a day when I was feeling marginally-less neurotic than usual...and he was feeling marginally-more bold.
Mark was the first to bring up his return. His only real hesitation came before he said Robbie’s name. He said it so softly Jason would’ve forgiven anyone for missing it. Mark’s glance was to Gary as he spoke. Gary simply smiled at him with a distant, yet understanding, look in his eyes. And so Mark had continued, a little more confidence creeping into his voice, though not much. Mark admitted, with a slightly shame-faced look, that Robbie had been the one to convince him to come back to Manchester, that he had all but given up on a happy ending until Robbie intervened. He filled in the side of the conversation by the Thames that Jason hadn’t heard and Jason mentioned to Gary the other side of the story, watching the look on Gary’s face carefully. Mark watched too, holding his breath. He saw Gary’s eyes shine slightly, muscles in his cheek tensing. Whatever emotion it provoked in him he chose not to divulge completely, simply sitting up and pressing a brief kiss to Mark’s cheek. With that Mark had finished the story, Gary taking hold of the hand that Mark had left dangling across his shoulder.
Jason and Howard sat across from them on the sofa, Jason’s arms around Howard’s middle whilst Howard had, without even realising, let one arm come to rest around Jason’s shoulders. As Mark and Gary talked Jason lay his head against Howard’s shoulder, tucking his legs around so his and Howard’s limbs became tangled together. It was subconscious for the two of them, they had a tendency to try and lock together in whatever way they could; Jason’s instinct with Howard was the opposite to what his instinct was when it came to the rest of the world. With Howard it was all about trying to stay close, seeking out Howard’s protection in whatever way it was available. Howard’s instinct, meanwhile, was always to guard Jason. He could even do it in his sleep. Sometimes when he was asleep he would reach across the bed to hold Jason close, something Jason knew but never mentioned to Howard for fear he would try to stop himself doing it. Jason preferred to let himself be held, waiting until Howard’s sleep would deepen once more and he would slowly loosen his grip and eventually roll away. It was also an unspoken truth between them that sometimes Jason was the one who would reach out in the night, curling in close, every muscle in his body tensed. He got scared sometimes, for no reason at all. No one before Howard had been allowed to know that. As he felt Howard’s arms pulling him even closer on the sofa that night, Jason knew that part of the reason they were married was because he couldn’t imagine anyone but Howard ever being allowed to know that information.
He’s the only one.
He lifted his eyes a moment and looked between the four of them. All with their own screw-ups to their names, all with their own struggles. It knitted together quite well, in the end. They had somehow managed to make each other’s short-comings make sense. There was a renewed sense that they were going to be honest with each other now. The ducking and diving that had gone before was not something any of them wanted to repeat. Frankness, even when it hurt, was probably the best option for them all. That was why neither Jason nor Howard felt capable of shying away when they were pushed to share their own struggles – and of course it was Mark who was the first to start the pushing.
“I guess it’s just been a difficult year, for all of us,” Mark’s statement was addressed largely to the ends of his sleeves and he sighed slightly as he said it, his eyes narrowed in concentration.
“I think it was good for us though. You have to be dropped in it sometimes, you know? So you get to see what you’re fighting for,” Howard’s fingers came up to brush idly at Jason’s neck and Jason smiled softly, looking down for a moment.
“It must’ve been tough though, if even you guys took the hit,” Gary remarked and Jason looked up at him in surprise, raising one eyebrow. He thought Gary knew better than to fall for the same traps other people did. Gary had, after all, been there for some of his and Howard’s most imperfect moments.
“Even us?! Come on, Gaz,” he dismissed with a self-conscious shake of his head. He felt Howard’s fingers become still on his neck as he placed a silent kiss to his temple.
“But you two are the poster-couple, Jay,” Mark pointed out, leaning back against Gary’s chest and biting on a nail. Jason looked at him a moment then sighed, pushing himself up a little.
“Look, me and Howard we...we get by. And we’re both fucking good actors when we want to be but...you guys should know better than anyone that perfect isn’t really...” Jason trailed off.
“Acceptance and forgiveness is the best anyone can do,” Howard offered quietly, his eyes glancing off to the windows. Jason’s lips twitched into a small smile, recognizing the sentiment. For a moment he was hit by a memory of Christmas lights and Frankfurt snow.
“Ok, let’s put it this way; this past year has been spent with me avoiding any battle just because I was too tired to fight and stand up for myself,” he admitted softly. As Jason spoke Howard let his head fall back on the sofa so he was staring at the ceiling. He let out a long breath.
“So I decided to pretend that I didn’t marry Jason Orange, that I preferred the budget edition,” he said, shaking his head a little at the still-fresh memory of it all. Mark looked between the two of them and frowned.
“Budget edition?” he queried and Howard laughed softly, sitting up again. He didn’t look at Mark, glancing down at Jason instead. Still curled up in his arms, his eyes downturned.
“Yeah. No colour screen. No moving pictures. In fact it was just...it was a bit like missing an entire concert coz you were too busy taking photographs of it, you know?” Howard sighed.
“Sounds like you worked it out though,” Mark put in and Jason looked up then, laughing self-consciously.
“Honestly? I screamed at him,” he said, blue eyes flicking up to Mark’s gaze briefly then across to Howard, giving his husband a shy, yet somehow mischievous, smile.
“After I behaved like a tit,” Howard reminded him kindly, a small smirk on his lips.
“You were a bit of a tit that night,” Jason agreed, a small but playful smile just behind his eyes. Gary looked between the two of them, aware that they had both become distracted but still slightly unclear of the facts.
“I’m sorry lads but you’ve lost me...” Gary frowned after a beat and Jason looked over at him.
“He chased me,” he offered, as if that explained all.
“And he didn’t run very far,” Howard grinned, kissing Jason’s temple again. A slow smile spread across Mark’s face as he watched them.
“Awww,” he said softly.
“Oh don’t you start, you’ll only encourage them,” Gary joked, getting a kiss on his cheek from Mark for his troubles.
“It was close is all, Gaz. Really fucking close,” Jason explained quietly.
“It’s nice though. Now, I mean. With us four like this again. It’s nice,” Mark murmured, sagging slightly against Gary’s chest. Gary nodded slowly, rubbing a hand over Mark’s back.
“Couldn’t agree with you more,” he said. Howard nodded slightly but his eyes were still narrowed thoughtfully in Gary’s direction.
That man is holding something back, I know it.
“Howard, love, would you mind doing the dishes for me?” Jason asked after a moment and Howard smiled slightly, kissing him once on the lips then moving to untangle their limbs.
“That was easy,” Gary remarked and Howard shrugged as he began collecting up plates.
“He’s done everything else today,” he explained with a grin.
“Here, I’ll help you,” Gary offered, extricating himself from Mark’s grip and following Howard towards the kitchen. Mark watched them go briefly before climbing out of the armchair and coming to join Jason on the sofa.
“Where did Grace go?” he asked as he sat down.
“Her room – Izzy just got back from her Christmas holidays and they’re due a marathon phone call,” Jason explained.
“Ok...so I can ask you something and there won’t be anyone coming in and listening who shouldn’t?” Mark clarified. Jason laughed uncertainly.
“Erm, I guess...” he replied with a slight shrug.
“No it’s just...I just want to know if...when Rob called you...did he...did he say how he felt? About me, I mean?” Mark asked nervously. Jason sucked in a breath.
“Markie, I don’t know if you should...” he began.
“Please, Jay. I need to know. Because I can’t lose him from my life again, Jay, I just don’t want to even think about doing that but...but I can’t lose Gary either. And I need to know if...I need to know if being friends with Rob is actually something I can do without risking everything I know I want with Gaz,” Mark interrupted, his eyes wide and plaintive. Jason shook his head slightly.
Should I tell him? I mean, I could tell him Rob said nothing. Because that would be the truth. Rob never once spelt out exactly how he felt about Mark in that phone call. Doesn’t mean it’s not fucking obvious though. It’s that old cliché; actions speak louder than words. And Robbie is, from my understanding of him, nothing if not a man of strikingly loud actions.
“Honestly? I think he still loves you, yeah. You said it yourself; he remembers every kindness because it’s been so rarely shown to him. And you’re the kindest person I know, Markie. To him, given his life experiences...you’re probably untouchable. But he was still the one that engineered this – you and Gary that is. He put you back together and he sent you back home, he’s proved he loves you in a way that means he probably wouldn’t want to risk your friendship. But...having said that, it still takes real love to do what he did for you,” Jason sighed at last and Mark smiled slightly.
“The sort of love that shouldn’t just be ignored though, right?” he said and Jason smiled.
“Probably not, no. But be careful, Markie. You give too much sometimes because you always try and give everything to everyone; don’t give too much to him. He’s fragile, he’d only get the wrong idea,” Jason warned softly and Mark smiled a sad sort of smile.
“It’s hard saying no to him,” he admitted. And Jason knew what he meant. The only difference being that there was only one person Jason had ever met who made him feel that way; he was in the fortunate position of only having fallen this deeply in love once in his life. He had managed to skip by having a first love, somehow. Or he had, at least, avoided falling headlong in love before Howard, only stumbling slightly (or occasionally walking casually) into the relationships that had gone before. He had gone down the route of one full-on fall down a flight of stairs and that was Howard. It had to be said, he seemed to be a testament to the fact some people really do just have one love of their life, without any first-stops along the way.
Robbie Williams certainly seems to only have loved once. Seems unfair though, somehow. Mark gets a second try. I had the one shot and, somehow, I didn’t miss. But him, he just got one shot too...and he missed and lost forever. Although it’s not exactly easy on Mark either. And the pressure on me and Howard not to lose what we have...no amount of love is easy. Would any one of us trade it though? I bet even Robbie wouldn’t if you asked him.
In the kitchen Howard had taken the job of washing, Gary opting for absent-minded drying instead. He stood leaning back against the kitchen counter, watching Jason and Mark talking. Though for once it wasn’t Mark he studied. It was Jason. Trying to read Jason was always a hard job, Jason was good at containing himself and Gary suspected that there was no one in the world but Howard who had ever seen Jason truly lose it. Justin might have seen more than most, he and Mark may have seen glimpses. But full-on losing control? Screaming, falling, breaking apart? Jason didn’t let the world see that. Whenever Mark and Gary tried to hold emotions in, things tended to fall to bits in spectacular fashion. But then they had been hiding from everyone, including each other, whereas Gary suspected hiding from Howard was near impossible for Jason. It still sounded as though Jason had managed it for the past year mind you. Hadn’t lasted, of course. Never could’ve lasted.
“You and Jay...” Gary said suddenly, leadingly. Howard looked up, eyebrows raised.
“Me and Jay?” he asked, confused.
“You...it’s...you two are ok now?” Gary wasn’t sure how to ask what he wanted to ask.
“His family don’t trust me, I sometimes check up on him like he’s a child and he knows I’m doing it, he has serious issues left over from an event I still can’t talk about without feeling like I’m about to throw up and I drive him insane by never thinking I’m good enough whilst he drives me insane by never remembering he’s not invincible. Ok? We are so far away from ok, Gaz. We’re just fucking...fucked up. But we’re happy. For some reason, we’re happy,” Howard put down what he was doing, not meeting Gary’s eyes but instead looking over to where Jason was. Gary smiled slightly.
The sentiment sounds familiar. Fucking fucked up but we’re happy. Beautiful, that. Maybe not quite right for a love song but never mind.
“And Jay?” Gary questioned, looking up at Howard.
“Jay is good. Exhausted but...happy,” Howard shrugged in response, his eyes still looking at Jason with so much love Gary almost felt he was intruding on a private moment, especially when Jason glanced up and caught the gaze. Gary looked down at his hands.
“I should’ve asked. I should’ve asked and I shouldn’t have put my foot in it,” he sighed eventually.
“Look, Gaz...I married a man who has the ability to completely surprise me from one hour to the next. The moment you catch him at in a phone call could’ve completely vanished by the time you hang up. This past year has been one long, continuous bad-time-to-catch-him. And that made it harder to tell the difference between who he really is and who he was pretending to be. I had hours on end where I should’ve worked it out and it still took me a year, so don’t feel bad for not working out you were saying the wrong thing in the space of a few minutes. Some of the things I’ve said to him I...but just trust me, he’s happy right now, different kinds of happy from one day to the next, one hour to another. But happy. Just worry when you have to worry. If you’ve learnt half as much as I have from this past year? You’ll know when you have to worry,” Howard told him and with that he moved out of the kitchen, flopping down on the sofa between Jason and Mark. Gary watched as Jason smiled and linked his arm through Howard’s, placing a kiss to his cheek.
Probably very good advice. And until then...well, all we can do until then is get a song or two written out of our mistakes.
By eleven o’clock it was almost impossible to detect the all-pervading greyness of the months which had gone before. Grace was dancing with Mark to a song on the television, Mark couldn’t stop laughing when the girl upstaged him and Gary couldn’t resist the temptation to heckle the pair of them from his place in the armchair.
“What I would give for a camera,” he remarked at one point as Grace pushed Mark and almost knocked him back over the coffee table. Mark simply laughed a cheeky laugh, taking a step back and fishing his phone out of his pocket.
“I’ve got one though,” he beamed, pressing a series of buttons on his phone and proceeding to shoot a small film of Gary sitting in the armchair. From the sofa, Howard watched in amusement, exchanging brief jokes with Gary before glancing back down at his husband, who was lying across the sofa. Howard wasn’t sure what time Jason had fallen asleep – it was uncharacteristic of him, Jason was usually always the last awake. But it had been a tough week. Howard brushed his fingers lightly against Jason’s forehead, moving away the hair which had fallen there. Jason moved his head slightly, letting out a small sigh, smiling a little in his sleep.
“Has anyone been keeping an eye on the time?” Gary’s voice broke the moment.
“Erm...ten to,” Mark replied, checking the time on his phone.
“Let’s go to the window so we can see the fireworks,” Grace beamed excitedly, picking up her hoody from the floor and pulling it on before making her way over to the large windows at the side of the room. Mark watched her with a smile then stepped over to sit with Gary, letting himself be tugged gently into his lap.
“You not coming, Gaz?” Mark asked, absently plucking fluff off Gary’s jumper.
“Does it involve moving?” he grumbled causing Mark to laugh.
“Well I’m not carrying you over there!” he countered and Gary suppressed a laugh.
“Oh go on then, I’ll come!” Gary sighed with exaggerated reluctance. Mark stood up and pulled Gary up after him, pausing to turn to Howard.
“What about you, old man?” he asked cheekily and Howard glanced down at Jason again.
“Maybe in a bit,” he said softly. Mark simply chuckled and turned away, tugging Gary over to the windows to join Grace.
Five more minutes, then I’ll join them.
Howard was half aware of the excitement building on the television and he looked between the pictures of London crowds and the significantly smaller crowd by the apartment window. He realised his mistake when Grace caught his eye; they had just about forgotten about him until then. Immediately Grace came bounding back over to him, perching on the arm of the sofa.
“Dad, are you coming or what?!” she pouted and Howard chuckled softly.
“There’s still time,” he said but Grace looked sceptical.
“They’re gonna start the countdown any minute! What sort of a start to the New Year is this?!” she protested, gesturing at Jason. Howard smiled softly, looking down at Jason, brushing his fingers across his forehead once again.
“The perfect start,” he murmured.
It’s everything last year should’ve had but didn’t. It’s everything that needs to happen in this next year. He deserves a rest, doesn’t he? Even if it’s only for a little while.
Grace pulled a face and folded her arms.
“You’ll have a rubbish view of the fireworks though,” she retorted, standing up and taking a step back towards the windows. Howard laughed.
“Trust me, I’ve got the best view of all sweetheart. Now go on, before you miss the fireworks too,” he told her before turning back to his sleeping husband. Grace sighed and moved away, shaking her head despairingly. Silently Howard moved his hand to rest on Jason’s forearm, stroking his thumb across Jason’s skin then leaning down to press a single kiss to his forehead. Jason’s eyes moved behind his eyelids.
At the windows Gary had suddenly gone quiet and Mark was looking at him in concern.
“You alright, Gaz?” Mark whispered to him, linking an arm through Gary’s and resting his chin on his shoulder. Gary opened his mouth then closed it again and frowned slightly. Mark noticed he was fiddling with something in his pocket.
“Ten...nine...” the sound of the crowds on the television reached them at the windows.
“Close your eyes a moment,” Gary said simply and Mark looked at him in confusion.
“Gaz...” he began but Gary looked at him with piercing blue eyes that wouldn’t take no for an answer. Mark closed his mouth and swallowed, nodding dumbly then closing his eyes.
“Eight...seven...” the cheers were getting louder now.
“Hold out your hands,” Gary instructed. Mark did as he was told. There was a pause as Gary reached into his pocket and, as if sensing a change in the room’s atmosphere, Howard looked over to them. Mark felt Gary place something into his hands.
“Six...five...” the television was now ignored entirely.
“Now open your eyes,” Gary whispered and Mark was quick to follow the instruction, blinking slightly in surprise at the scene before him. Gary, down on one knee, blue eyes twinkling up at him. Mark’s mouth fell open a little and his eyes moved to look at what Gary had placed in his hand; a very familiar-looking ring. A breathless smile coloured Mark’s lips
“Gaz...” Mark tried to speak again but Gary interrupted quickly.
“Mark Anthony Patrick Owen; would you do me the honour of staying married to me?” Gary asked with a slow smile. Mark’s smile spread wide across his face.
“Four...three...” Howard glanced back at the screen.
“You know what, Gary Barlow?” Mark asked with a grin.
“What?” Gary replied.
“Two...” Howard’s gaze was distracted once more, this time by Jason stirring in his lap.
“I’d bloody love to,” Mark’s answer was met by a grin and all at once Gary was on his feet.
“One!” cheers erupted from the television as Gary slid the ring back onto Mark’s finger before capturing his lips for a kiss.
On the sofa Jason blinked awake, glancing from the television then up at Howard with a smile.
“Happy New Year,” he murmured and Howard smiled lopsidedly down at him.
“Happy New Year, darlin’,” he replied, leaning down and pressing his lips against Jason’s. He could feel Jason’s lips smiling against his own and the kiss deepened; Jason slowly slid back up until he was sitting on Howard’s lap, his arms around Howard’s neck as Howard’s hands settled themselves on his waist. The sound of fireworks erupting in the Manchester sky only just managed to pervade the moment. Jason and Howard turned and, with a glittering smile, Jason pulled Howard up and over to the window with him to watch. For a moment all five of them watched the sky light up, the crackling and banging reverberating off every building in the city.
“Alright, lads, come here, hold hands, I’m not standing here on New Year’s day without a nice rendition of Auld Lang Syne – come on!” Gary chivvied suddenly, breaking the spell. And, for some reason, they followed his instruction without question. Even Grace didn’t see any need to protest, promptly coming to stand between her father and Jason and taking both their hands in her own.
“Alright Captain Barlow, you lead us in,” Jason smiled and Gary beamed over at him.
“A one, a two, a one, two, three, four...”
Epilogue
So, tell me honestly, Markie...if you had to sit here now and write it all down, would you actually feel like it was complete?
That was all Rob said. All he needed to say, really. To play the hero and the martyr all at once by putting things back where they needed to be. I don’t know if I had been mulling it over somewhere in the back of my brain before he’d even said it. I guess I was, I guess I must’ve done that. I asked if he meant like an autobiography. You know, I was really just stalling. I was trying to work out where he was going with it, to be honest with you. Although I surprised myself a bit with how much I actually did understand. I hadn’t thought about it much, not consciously. About when I was going to pull myself together, I mean. I had things to face up to and I had too many unexplored avenues to just quit. Although I wanted to quit.
Not quite. That’s what I said. It was so hard giving that answer to Rob. I knew the admission I was making. Both of us knew, that it wasn’t forever but...as long as we didn’t talk about it, we could live like that. We were in suspended animation until then, if you like. And I broke the spell; I spoke the unspoken truth. But it was the truth. And I think we could all use a bit more of that, every now and again. So he nodded and handed me a train ticket. Stoke station to Manchester Piccadilly. No one should write their autobiography until they have had happiness, lost it and found it again. Rob’s will never be written, but still it was him who bought me the ticket I needed to write mine.
Before, before I left, before Gaz and me fought...maybe even before I knew him...I always thought your life had to be about what you achieved. You and you only. If you couldn’t be the headline act in your own life then you’re fucking it up. Self-sustenance, you know? You are the only one who can make yourself happy. It’s the sort of shit you read somewhere once and then you start beating yourself up when it doesn’t work. I tried it and I lived by it and I destroyed myself with it. I left myself with only myself and it just wasn’t fucking working. I had no home and no Gaz; I was, by no means, happy. I was ok, from time to time I laughed and I forgot the underlying stuff, the crap stuff that I couldn’t fix on my own. But if you’d sat me down and asked me if I had found whatever it was I thought I needed to label my life a success, I still would’ve said no. Well, as long as you were Jay or Rob or someone else with a habit of making me admit to all of the shit things I think and feel but would rather not say. Would my life-story be complete without Gary Barlow? No it fucking wouldn’t, you know? I would hate the idea of my autobiography seeing me round out my days being just ok. And saying to Rob that I couldn’t have him as the last chapter in my autobiography was telling him that, for all that he loved me, he could never love me enough to make me happy. We broke up a long time ago, he said goodbye to me and he knew all along how I felt but at the same time he can’t help hoping. Coz we both know I would be enough for him. He could write his book tomorrow if I kissed him and meant it tonight. I never will though. I’ll kiss Gaz tonight and every night after and one day I’ll be able to write my story that way. Rob will be a chapter. But Gaz...he will be my one and only cliff-hanger. Not so much the happy ending, but the thing people close the book and remember.
We should all want cliff-hangers. We should all be looking for the people who will still be there at the end of the book, not showing any sign of leaving. Still there on the last page so the reader knows it didn’t really stop – an eternally unconfirmed possibility of more. Those are the love stories people remember, aren’t they? The ones that actually matter for more than just the length of the book itself. I’m not saying everyone in the world is going to write their life around a person, there’ll be plenty of people who will be happy alone, achieve more alone than I ever will with Gaz or Jay will with Howard. If they’re happy they’re happy. But me and Jay, Howard and Gaz...we’re not built that way. We’re built to be happy with others. No, no that’s wrong. We’re built to be happy together. Anyway, all I’m saying is...I just don’t think anyone should be settling for the kind of love that’s only worth a chapter. If it’s just a chapter then let it end, you know? Don’t fucking fight that, have a little faith that your book is going to be more memorable than a page ten ending. You settle for someone who is just a chapter and you might miss a whole solo adventure. You might miss a real romance. I mean, no one should settle for anyone who doesn’t look at them the way Howard looks at Jay. No one should settle for anyone who won’t think every love-song was written about them the way Gaz does about me. Rob won’t settle for anyone who won’t fight with him the way I fought with him, who won’t show kindness to him the way I showed kindness to him. He’s already decided I’m his cliff-hanger. His problem is the cliff has come but he’s still travelling – I will forever be more than a chapter to him though and nothing will change that.
But as it turned out there was more to my ‘not quite’ than I could ever have imagined. It took a matter of months for our lives to be sent hurtling towards a whole new kind of story, not that any of us noticed at the time. If we had known...maybe we would have chosen differently, maybe we would’ve run with even greater urgency in the direction of those microphones that night, maybe we would’ve shied away from them instead. It’s hard to say. Right now, in this moment? I just feel sick. I don’t know why that is though. It could be nerves. Or regret. Or excitement. If you feel like throwing up does that mean it’s just a chapter? Or is it more like a camera-shaped cliff-hanger spanning across four different autobiographies all at once? It’s weird, isn’t it? We thought picking our cast of characters would be the most central thing in all our plots. Not quite true. And not quite an autobiography for any of us just yet.