Fireside Romance Box Set

Chapter 5-3

Although the library opened Saturday mornings, I only had to cover alternate weekends. I’d just finished making all the arrangements in the main office regarding my leave request when Mary walked in.

“I’d have thought you’d have seen enough of this place without coming in on your half day off.”

“Mary.” I gave her a smile. “Something’s cropped up and I’m taking some time off. You’ll be on your own for the next couple of weeks. I’m sorry.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, this is Mark,” I said, putting my hand on his shoulder.

“Please to meet you.” Mark started to hold out his hand to shake, then must have realised he couldn’t.

“Mark’s hurt his hands. He’s agreed to move in with me until they heal.”

She raised her eyebrows slightly. She knew! “Oh, dear, how did you manage to do that?”

“Some people I knew decided to play around with chemicals, and things got out of control. Some of the stuff got on my skin.”

“You poor thing. I hope this reprobate is taking good care of you,” she said, pointing an accusing finger at me.

“He’s been a godsend,” Mark said, wrapping an arm around me.

I was so happy at his gesture, I couldn’t get the silly grin off my face. Of course Mary spotted it.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to the department?” I asked her.

She stuck her tongue out at me as she passed us. Mark laughed, but I was used to her.

When she’d gone, Mark said, “She’s a scream.”

“Yeah, she is. She’s got a heart of gold, though.”

We left the library and walked to the government offices for the unemployment forms. Then we shopped till we dropped. I encouraged Mark to choose everything from a baseball cap, which brought out the colour in his eyes, to a stout pair of shoes. He complained about how much it was costing.

“You need these clothes, so you’re having them,” I said with determination.

We stopped off at the surgery and got Mark registered with a doctor. Mark came from Newcastle originally; when his father kicked him out Mark simply bought a bus ticket to the furthest place he could afford. Although it was very selfish of me to think it, I was bloody glad he didn’t have any more money than he had, otherwise our paths would never have crossed. Fortunately my doctor had some spare places on her list, so I was able to get him registered with her. She was a really kind lady who didn’t judge. I knew Mark would be well looked after by her. We arranged for Mark to come in early the next week to have his bandages changed by the nurse.

So with everything done that could be done, we headed home.

“Phew, I’m glad that’s done!” Mark said as he collapsed on the sofa after I’d taken the rucksack from him.

“Are you tired?” I asked with concern.

“No, not exactly. My hands are starting to hurt though. I don’t know if it’s because it was cold out there.”

“Why didn’t you say something? I took your pills with us.” I pulled the bottle from my pocket and showed him.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you’d brought them.”

“I’ll get you some water, and you can take a couple now.”

“Thanks.

“Do you want to lie down here for a bit while I get us a bite of lunch?” I asked Mark once he’d taken his tablets.

“Would you mind? These pills make me a bit sleepy sometimes.”

“Of course not,” I said, ruffling his hair. “I’ll take off your shoes and you can get more comfy.”

He gave me a kiss.

“Shall I light the fire?”

“That’d be smashing, thanks.”

I hadn’t set the fire that morning. I’d wanted to get on with the shopping. So I spent a few minutes cleaning out the grate and re-setting everything. Some people make setting the fire a real art form. I can honestly say I’m not that anal. So long as the newspaper, small sticks, and the coal are put on in the right order, I don’t see the need to make a performance out of it.

The fire having taken hold, I went into the kitchen, washed my hands, and prepared a few sandwiches.

On my return to the living room, I spied Mark gazing into the flames.

“Penny for them.”

This seemed to rouse Mark from his thoughts. “I love looking into a real fire. I imagine all kinds of shapes and stuff. It’s hypnotic.”

I smiled. “Some people say having an open fire is too much work. But I think it really makes a room look and feel cosy.”

“Uh huh.” Mark continued to stare into the fire.

I got out a TV dinner table and put the plate of sandwiches and snacks on it. Then I took Mark’s glass, went back into the kitchen and refilled it, and got another glass for myself. Returning to the living room, I sat next to Mark and began to feed him.

After we’d finished eating, I lay across the back of the couch and Mark spooned back into me. I pushed one arm under him, and draped the other one over his chest.

“Happy?” I asked.

“Love being here…you holding me.” He grew silent for a few minutes. I thought he’d dropped off, but he spoke again. “I used to stand on Gamble Street hoping that day would be the day I’d see you.”

I kissed the top of his head.

“Sometimes it got pretty bad out there. One day I’ll tell you more about it. I know I’ve told you a few things, but I’m not ready to talk about it yet.”

I squeezed him and kissed the top of his head again.

“I felt safe, warm, and cared for when I was here. I always wanted to stay longer, but I knew I had to go and earn more money.”

“You’re staying now. I’m not letting you go.” I hoped Mark didn’t read the true meaning in my words. I’d have to be more careful in future.

Mark snuggled in closer and fell asleep.

We both jumped at the sound of the ringing phone. I extricated myself from Mark to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Simon.”

“Hi, Mary. What can I do for you?”

“I wondered if you two wanted to go out this evening for a drink. As you know, Jerry is in the Middle East on his history field trip and I was at a bit of a loose end. I thought you might want to paint the town red.”

“I’m not sure about red, it isn’t really my colour.”

“Daft sod!”

“Hang on, I’ll ask Mark.” I put my hand over the receiver and said, “Mary wondered if we’d like to go out for a drink tonight. I know it’d be a bit awkward to go out for a meal, but do you fancy an hour or two down the pub?”

“Yeah, it’d be nice to get out and relax for a bit.” He paused. “I’ve no money though.”

“That’s okay, don’t worry about it. Do you want to go?”

“Love to, thanks.”

I raised the receiver to my ear. “We’ll meet you at the White Swan, say about eight?”

“Great! I’ll see you both there then. Love to Mark.”

“Okay, bye-bye.”

I replaced the phone back in its cradle and returned to the sofa. “Mary sends her love,” I told Mark as I sat down and pulled him against me.

“Does she, erm, know about, I mean does she know how we met?”

I decided I’d always be honest with Mark, unless the information would unnecessarily cause him pain. I reached up and, cupping Mark’s chin, turned his head to face me. Kissing him, I said, “Yes she knows what you used to do for a living. But as you’ve seen for yourself, she’s a good person. I promise she’s fine about it all. If you ever need to talk to someone, and you’re not comfortable about telling me, then think about talking to Mary. Although she might look the gossipy type, she’s the most loyal friend I’ve ever known.”

He hugged me.

“Mary will make a play of trying to get the dirt on you, but it’ll all be in fun. She wouldn’t hurt anyone. She might get a bit protective over me, but it won’t be long before she takes you under her wing, too.”

“She sounds like a really good friend.”

“The best,” I said. “She’s got a boyfriend, but he’s on some kind of university field trip and won’t be back until the New Year.”

I chuckled as I related to Mark how Mary and Jerry met. Mark laughed at the comic scene I painted.

We spent the rest of the afternoon lounging about, listening to music, talking, and generally enjoying each other’s company. About six we decided to make a start on dinner.

“Want anything in particular?”

He shrugged. “Whatever you feel like cooking is fine by me.”

I looked in the kitchen cupboards, the fridge, and freezer. “How about a tin of chunky vegetable soup to start, then liver and onions? I want to build you up so you’re nice and strong.”

Mark gave me a hug. “Thanks, you’re being really kind.”

“You haven’t had a very good diet recently. I just want to redress the balance,” I deflected.

He gave me a kiss on the lips. It was wonderful. I tried not to read too much into the gesture, but it wasn’t easy.

I sat Mark down on his now customary stool and got on with preparing our meal. Conversation was light and pleasant. I revelled in the cosy domesticity. I just hoped and prayed—not something I did often enough—that this, this whatever it was I had with Mark, would grow and strengthen with time. I got a bit worked up and a few stray tears began to fall. However, I was able to cover up my problem because I was slicing onions at the time.

Once we’d eaten, I asked Mark if he wanted a bath before we went out.

“Please, I wasn’t able to bathe as much as I liked in hospital. They were short staffed, and I got embarrassed when the female nurses did it.”

I laughed. “Weren’t there any cute male nurses on the ward?”

“Just the one. But I was even more embarrassed the day he bathed me.”

“Why? Your body is perfect.” Now it was my turn to be embarrassed.

“Thanks., but…uh when the male nurse said he wanted to bath me I got an erection.”

I laughed again. “What did you do, apart from turning red and getting hard?”

“I managed to delay him undressing me until it went down.”

“Listen, Mark,” I said, becoming serious. “If you ever need me to relieve you, you know, I…would. I’ve never done it to another person before, so I don’t know if I’d be any good, but I’d do my best to…” My embarrassment was returning full force, but I determinedly ploughed on. “I’d give you a hand.” Then I realised what I said and felt my face get even hotter if that were possible.

Mark laughed. “Thanks.” He too was going a little pink in the face. “I wasn’t sure how I’d take care of that.”

“Just let me know if it comes up.” I scrunched my eyes closed. I’d done it again. “How come the floor never opens up and swallows you when you need it to?”

Mark laughed harder.

“I’ll go and start running the bath,” I said, making my escape.

Turning on the bath taps, I told myself that I’d have to be more careful in future about dropping hints like that. The last thing I wanted was for Mark to feel uncomfortable. However, I reasoned he would have needs and I couldn’t imagine anything more frustrating than not being able to satisfy them. So I thought on balance I’d made the right decision about bringing up the subject. I’d allow Mark to say if or when he actually wanted me to help him out.

I waited until the bathwater had reached the desired height. I also decided I’d better check the temperature, so rolled up my sleeve and dipped my elbow into the water. I chuckled at the image that came into my mind. Mark walked into the bathroom at that point.

“What’s so funny?”

“Did you ever watch the kids’ TV show Blue Peter?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You remember whenever they bathed one of the programme’s pet dogs, they always made such a play of testing the temperature of the water with an elbow. Something about that part of the body being more sensitive to heat.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember now.” He began to chuckle too.

I undressed him, put the bags on his hands, taped them up and helped him into the tub. I knew I’d never tire of looking at his gorgeous—if slightly battered—body.

“I’ll put more witch hazel on your bruises when we’re done.”

“Thanks, I didn’t seem to hurt as much after the last lot.”

“Good. Want me to wash your hair while you’re in here?”

“Please.”

I wet his hair and applied some of the apple-scented shampoo I’d been given for my last birthday. I got a bit turned on at the sensations I felt while running my fingers through Mark’s curls.

“That smells nice,” he said.

“I doubt it’s ever been near a real apple,” I said, “but it still smells nice.”

“It’s great.”

“Right then, time to rinse off.” I scooped up some of the bath water with a large beaker I kept for just that purpose, and repeated the hair washing as directed on the bottle. Normally I didn’t bother re-applying the shampoo, as I’d read somewhere that it didn’t actually clean the hair any further. It was just a way that the shampoo manufacturers got to shift twice the volume of product than was actually necessary. But I was enjoying the feeling of washing Marks hair too much to be prudent about wasting money.

Once I got Mark out of the bath, I pulled the plug and towelled him dry. He went into the bedroom while I ran another bath for myself.

Finished bathing, I put on a clean pair of underpants and went into the bedroom. I asked Mark what he wanted to wear to go out.

“Erm, I think I’d like to wear those 501’s with a white T-shirt and that fluffy crew neck jumper you said looked good on me.”

“It did.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Okay, that’s what I’ll wear then.”

Clothing choices made, I got to work dressing first Mark and then myself. I then had the pleasant duty of brushing Mark’s hair.

“You like doing that, don’t you?” he asked with a smile.

I reddened. “Your curls are great.”

Mark shrugged. “Genetics.”

Hair brushed and coats on, we headed out.

We’d only just turned the corner out of our street when Mark stopped suddenly.

“What’s wrong?” I asked in concern.

“No straws.”

“They’ll have some at the pub, but I probably should go back home, just in case.”

“Thanks.”

“Do you want to carry on walking, and I’ll catch you up?”

Mark nodded.

I headed back to the house. It’s amazing how many things you have to think about when you’re caring for someone with a disability. However, I was more than pleased to be of whatever help I could to Mark. If his hands weren’t bandaged he wouldn’t be with me, and I’d…I didn’t want to complete that train of thought.

On my way back to Mark, I heard raised voices. Getting closer, I could see it was Mr Simpkins, an oily little man who was trying to get into Marks face about something. From what I could pick up, it seemed Simpkins must have been one of Mark’s previous clients, and he wanted Mark to perform for him again. Mark was doing his best to get out of Simpkins way, but with little success. I knew something of this obnoxious example of pond slime, so I inserted myself between them.

“Hello, Mr Simpkins. I saw your good lady wife last week. I hope she’s enjoying that book I managed to get for her on Roman pottery.”

The best description of Mrs Simpkins was “formidable.” I had no problem with her at all. She’d been a regular at the library for years, and I often managed to source reference books on ceramics and pottery for her. She was something of a collector. She—and the henpecked Mr Simpkins—would scour the local car-boot sales to add to her impressive collection.

At seeing me, old Simpkins wilted considerably. I put a protective arm around Mark.

“I was just talking to this, this…”

“Yes, this is my very good friend, Jim.” I remembered Mark’s street name. “I’m sure Mrs S wouldn’t be too pleased to know what you were about to ask Jim to do, would she?”

Simpkins went white. I began to feel a little sorry for the old man. He didn’t have much freedom in his life. Mrs S certainly wore the trousers in their house.

Simpkins turned and fled the scene. I faced Mark, putting my other arm around him and giving him a tight hug. I don’t think anyone saw us. I wasn’t particularly bothered if they had.

“You were great,” Mark said quietly. “I couldn’t have handled him like that. He was one of my…shall we say…less pleasant clients.”

“Don’t worry, love. I’ve got his number. His wife keeps him pretty well under her thumb. I suppose he was just trying to get back some of his macho image, but he absolutely will not do it at your expense. I won’t let him, or anyone else.”

Mark gave me a squeeze. “I’m so lucky to be living with you.”

“I’m the lucky one,” I whispered.

He gave me a final squeeze, then disengaged from the hug.

“You ready to go on?” I asked. “Or would you rather go home?”

“I’m not going to let the likes of him spoil the rest of my life. I didn’t enjoy what I had to do, but I had no option at the time.”

“You’ve got options now. Come on, I think you need a stiff drink.”

“Better stick to something soft ‘cause of my pills.”

“Yeah, sorry.”

We completed the rest of our journey to the pub in silence, but I felt it was a comfortable rather than an uncomfortable one. In a town the size of ours, he was bound to encounter old clients. Most wouldn’t acknowledge that they knew Mark, but the odd one like old man Simpkins wouldn’t have the brain or the tact to stay away. I’d be there as much as I could to help Mark cope.

We arrived at the White Swan, or the Mucky Duck as it was known by the majority of its regular patrons. Of course Mary hadn’t arrived yet. I don’t think she’d ever arrived anywhere early. I hoped Jerry could come to terms with her timekeeping.

“What’ll it be, gents?” Ron, the barman, asked.

“I’ll have a pint of your best bitter, please,” I replied. I looked at Mark for his choice.

“Tonic water, please.”

“Coming right up.”

“Oh, and could I have a dry Martini for our other guest, who hasn’t shown up yet?”

“Sure. Waiting for Mary?” Ron asked.

“As ever!” I sighed dramatically.

Ron laughed.

Ron put the drinks on a tray, I paid and we went to sit at a table in the far corner. I sat facing the door so I could spot the latecomer when she arrived.

“It’s nice in here,” Mark said.

I nodded after taking a pull on my pint. “Mary and I used to drink here. Mind you, that was in the pre-Jerry days.”

We made small talk until madam Mary showed up. When I spotted her, I winked at Mark. “I wonder what excuse she’ll have this time.”

“Is she often late?”

I grinned. “Almost always.”

“Hello, boys.”

“I got you one in,” I said, pointing at her glass.

“Thanks, I need it.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, just come off the phone to Jerry. He seems to be having a whale of a time out there. Says he misses me, though.”

“Aw, ain’t love grand,” I put in.

“Yes it is. Speaking of which, how are you two love birds getting on?” Fortunately no one was sat close by, and Mary spoke softly.

I was expecting such a comment, but Mark wasn’t. He reddened, but quickly recovered.

Mark put his arm around me and said, “We’re getting along great, thanks.”

This caused me to go red, and Mary to laugh.

“You’ve got a keeper there, Simon.” She smiled.

I looked at Mark and said, “Yes, I think so too.”

Mark just smiled. I began to wonder if he really did think something of me. I’d have to tread very carefully, but his smile certainly lifted my spirits.

“Tell me, Mark,” Mary asked, “Have you picked up any good recipes for Yorkshire Pudding?”

Mark looked confused, and I kicked Mary under the table.

“Ouch!”

“I’m not with you,” Mark said.

I glared at Mary then turned to Mark. “Never mind, I’ll tell you later.”

The three of us spent a very enjoyable evening in the pub. Although I was very much a homebody, I occasionally did enjoy a change of scene, especially when out with such convivial company.

“Well, boys, Dad will be picking me up out front in a couple of minutes, so I better not keep him waiting. I hope you’ll be thinking of me sleeping all on my ownsome tonight.”

Keeping my expression as neutral as I could, I asked, “You could always join us if you fancied a threesome.”

Mary blushed. This was a rare occurrence, so I felt as though I’d scored a minor victory. It was usually me who would end up embarrassed.

“No thanks, I bet at least one of you snores.”

“Who said anything about going to sleep?” Mark put in.

I put a hand over my mouth to stifle a laugh. My man was learning how to handle Mary. Good on him.

“I think I better go while my virtue is still intact.” She smiled. “Look after yourselves, you hear!”

“We will!” we both said together.

This caused all three of us to chuckle.

We escorted Mary to the door, and waited till her dad came to pick her up. Then we made our own way home.

* * * *

“Did you enjoy yourself this evening?” I asked Mark as we lay in bed that night, me spooning behind him as usual.

“Yeah, Mary’s a lot of fun.”

“She certainly is. Feeling tired?”

Mark yawned his answer. “I’ve had a really fun day. Thanks for everything.”

“You’re welcome.” I kissed the back of his neck. “I’ve had fun, too.”

The room fell silent.

I was just drifting off when Mark said, “Simon?”

“Yeah?”

“What was all that about Yorkshire Pudding?”

I chuckled, then told Mark about the silly game Mary and I sometimes played.

He laughed.