Fireside Romance Book 3: Heating Up

Chapter 2-2

“Want to have a look around York today?” Tom asked us once the breakfast dishes had been cleared away.

“It’s been years since I last visited York,” I said.

“Before we leave…” Mark started to say, then bit his lip.

I reached over and gave his hand a squeeze, encouraging him to continue.

“Could we go into the living room? I want to tell you both something.”

Tom and Cliff were surprised at Mark’s request.

Once we were situated in the front room, cups of coffee politely declined, Mark began. “You remember when we first met in Menorca?”

Cliff nodded.

“Well,” Mark swallowed.

I thought maybe we should have accepted the offer of coffee after all.

“Cliff, you told us how you and Tom got together. You were going through a painful period in your life.”

Cliff had been bullied at school because of his size and lack of athletic ability.

“Well, you remember us telling you that Simon and I bumped into each other in the street?”

Both Tom and Cliff indicated they remembered the conversation.

Mark started to pick at the pocket of his jeans.

I put a hand over his and gave it a squeeze. “It’s okay, love.”

Clearing his throat, Mark continued. “Simon and I did bump into each other in the street, but it’s a lot more involved than that.” He paused for a deep breath. “My mum died when I was eighteen. One of the last things she asked me to do was to take care of Dad after she’d gone. Dad and I never got on well.” Turning to me, he said, “I’m sorry…this is the part you don’t know. Mum and Dad had me late in their lives. I had an older brother, Justin. He and Dad would play football together, go fishing, watch sport on the television, that sort of thing. The two of them were inseparable. Justin was the apple of my dad’s eye.

“When he was ten Justin started to become ill. The doctors soon found out the cause…he had leukaemia. They tried to get a bone marrow donor, but they couldn’t find a match.

“Justin steadily grew weaker and weaker…and eventually died.”

“I’m sorry.” I said, rubbing circles on his back.

“I never knew my brother, he died before I was born. I think I only ever saw one photo of him. Dad burnt most of them not long after Justin’s funeral. Dad blamed himself, and withdrew almost totally from Mum.

“Dad was pretty angry with Mum when he found out she was pregnant with me. He wanted her to get an abortion. Mum wouldn’t. She rarely stood up to dad, but she did on this occasion. Which is a good thing because abortions weren’t legal back then…she’d have had to go and have it done by a back-street abortionist.”

“Yes,” I said quietly, unable to contemplate the thought of never having known Mark.

“So I was born. Dad hardly ever had anything to do with me. I guess he thought, if he didn’t love me, if I died, it would hurt him less.”

I rubbed his back again.

Mark then told Tom and Cliff how he’d been kicked out of his house for being gay, that he’d bought a bus ticket and ended up in Littleborough. He then went on to tell how he’d been tricked into owing a man—Jake—a favour and how he’d had to pay back his debt by selling himself on the street.

As I’d expected, all I saw was love and concern reflected in Cliff’s and Tom’s faces.

Mark glanced at me when he got to the point of the story where I appeared in it. I nodded for him to continue.

“One day I was standing in my usual spot when Simon came along. There was something in Simon’s eyes that told me I could trust him.” He smiled at me. “So I agreed to go home with him.

“Simon was one of the few men who showed genuine concern for my wellbeing. I just knew he was a good man.

“It was raining when I left his house that night. I only had on a T-shirt. Simon insisted I take a warm sweater and a raincoat. No one had offered to do anything like that before. He even fed me. I hadn’t eaten much that day. My pimp used to take most of what I earned.

“I saw Simon every couple of weeks or so for a few months.” Mark sighed. “One night at Jake’s place, I heard an explosion. I ran into the next room to find out what had happened. It was a total disaster area in there. I was pretty sure Jake was dead, but the other two men in there with him were screaming something horrible. I gave what help I could, but I got some acid on my hands. I don’t know why they were mucking about with acid. Someone later thought Jake was trying to manufacture drugs, I don’t know, I can’t imagine why someone would need acid to make drugs. Jake died, so we’ll never know the real reason. My hands hurt like hell, though. Someone must have called the police, and soon after the explosion they arrived, they called for an ambulance, and I was admitted to hospital. They didn’t really need to keep me in long, but I had nowhere to go. I even thought I’d have to go back to Newcastle, but I doubted if my dad would have had me back.”

I squeezed Mark’s hand, silently congratulating him for getting through the hard part.

“I woke up one day in the hospital and Simon was sitting by my bed. He listened to my tale of woe and insisted he was going to look after me. I couldn’t do anything for myself at all. I even needed help in the bathroom.”

Tom laughed.

“I know.” Mark smiled. “But Simon here was absolutely great about it all. He looked after me so well, I was beginning to fall in love with him. But I couldn’t tell him because, well, I wasn’t much of a catch, no money, no home and being a prostitute. I also had to be certain of my feelings. I knew he deserved someone who genuinely loved him for the kind person he was, not for the things he could provide. So I waited until I was sure I was truly in love with him.”

I smiled, thinking back to those times, which had been just as much a struggle for me as for Mark.

“On Christmas morning I couldn’t hold in my feelings any longer, so I told Simon that I loved him. The most wonderful part of it was, he said he loved me, too.” Mark turned to face me. “Thank you. Heck,” he sniffed, “that sounds so inadequate.”

“You’re welcome,” I croaked out through a tightened throat. After saying them, my words sounded just as inadequate as Mark thought his were.

Tom and Cliff came over to pat us on the back. They thanked Mark for trusting them with his secret.

We sat quietly for a while, Tom and Cliff giving Mark and me the space we needed.

Eventually I broke the silence. “I’m sorry, but I don’t fancy trekking into York.”

Mark squeezed my hand. Turning to Cliff he asked, “Do you mind?”

“Don’t be silly, of course we don’t mind,” Cliff said. “Besides, the weather looks to be closing in,” he said, getting up and looking out of the window.

We spent the rest of the day in each other’s company, reliving the happy events of our shared Menorcan holiday. Cliff, much to Tom’s consternation, suggested getting out the photos of their previous trips abroad.

“They don’t want to look at pictures of us standing in front of the Eiffel Tower, Brandenburg Gate, and the Leaning Tower of Pizza.”

“Pisa,” Cliff corrected, smiling at his man.

I suspected Tom had made the mistake deliberately.

“We’d love to look at your holiday pictures,” Mark said.

So Cliff got them out. Most were of Tom; I assumed Cliff was operating the camera. Though there were a few of them both together.

“At least you haven’t suffered the indignity of having your baby photos being shown around,” I said to Tom, remembering when my mum had shown Mark my baby photographs.

Mark laughed. “Aw, you were a cute little baby,” he said, pinching my cheeks.

The others laughed.

“I guess I can be thankful for small mercies, then,” Tom replied.

“I’ve still got that album your mother lent me,” Cliff said.

“Don’t you bloody dare!” Tom exclaimed.