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Identity Check Chapter 21 |
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David didn't get tired of
texts and calls in a couple of days, or even a couple of weeks. Standing in
the queue to get into the 7th Circle, nearly three weeks later, Phil frowned
at Patrick, who was erasing text messages. "Patrick, you have
got to get a new phone." "Got to get paid for
this month first," Patrick said, putting the phone away. "You shouldn't
delete the texts," Russ said, "they're evidence if you have to go
to the police." "I'm not going to
the police, I already decided that." "I meant for the
stalking." "Stalking? Oh come
on, Russ, don't go over the top. It's not like he follows me..." He trailed off. David was
walking down the queue towards them, away from the door into the club. He saw
Patrick and his already scowling face twisted with rage. The rest of the group
stared daggers at him in return and closed in around Patrick. "You got me fucking
barred from here!" David spat the words. "Whose cock did you have
to suck to make that happen?" "I don't know
anything about it. I never asked Ray to bar you." "Piss off,
David," Phil said. "He doesn't want anything to do with you." "I didn't ask for
your opinion, scrawny." Russ took a step forward,
face flushing, but kept himself in control and spoke in an even tone. "Go away. This is
harassment and he's keeping a record of every single offence." That was
a lie of course, but Russ made it sound convincing. "Oh, if we want to
talk offences, what about what you did to my car?" David glared at
Patrick again. "A criminal damage charge trumps 'sending you text messages'." "What are you
talking about?" Patrick asked, baffled. "I never touched your
car." "So it's a
coincidence someone keyed it and ripped off a wing mirror, is it?" "You mean a
coincidence that someone did that right after you attacked him?" Russ said. "I never touched
your damn car!" Patrick protested. As tempting as taking revenge might
be, it didn't count as 'putting things behind him'. He hadn't even thought of
it. One of the bouncers,
Barry, loomed up behind David and put a hand on his shoulder. "Sir, I told you
that you're not coming in. Please leave." David shoved the heavy
hand off his shoulder. "Don't touch me, you fucking gorilla. I'll go
where I like." Far too used to dealing
with rowdy idiots to let David provoke him, Barry went on in a calm voice.
"If you continue harassing our customers I'll be forced to call the
police." "Oh, you've got all
the boys working for you, haven't you?" David snarled at Patrick.
"Pretty Patrick, darling of the Triangle." But the bouncer wasn't
going away and David eventually snarled in disgust and strode off. Cat calls
from Patrick's group, and even random people in the queue who'd been
listening in, floated after him. Barry turned to Patrick. "Ray revoked his
membership, Pat. And he's spoken to managers of other clubs and the doormen
are circulating his picture round the public bars. Triangle will be pretty
much shut down to him." "Ray did that?"
Patrick said, amazed. Barry nodded. "He
always looks after his lads." He went back to the door. "I think that's
another bottle of whisky I owe Ray," Patrick said, shaking his head.
He'd given him one already for helping on that horrible night. "Man follows
through," Phil said, in an admiring tone. "Not just barring him
from here, but getting him barred from the rest of the Triangle. That's
impressive!" "At least you won't
have to worry about running into him when you're out," Russ said. "Yeah. Or him coming
in here when I'm working and hassling me. Because I think he'd do that." "Of course he
would," Phil said. "He's a nutter. Hell,
never mind a bottle, you should buy Ray a case of whisky for taking care of
it!" "A case of Glenlivet? Hah! I'd like to pay my rent and eat this
month, thanks!" "Patrick," Russ
said, "What I said, about recording every incident, I was bluffing, but
that's what you should be doing. He's stalking you." "Are you suggesting
he actually followed me here tonight?" Patrick said. "But the
Triangle is a small place. It was probably just coincidence." "Of course he
followed you. And you said he'd had his eye on you since that first night you
were in here." "Come on, Russ, that
was before the... ah, fight. You're making it sound too sinister."
"Checked up on me
how? He can't have followed me that weekend, he was away." "Are you sure?" "Of course
I'm..." Was he? Could David have been sitting in his flat when he sent
that email? Could he have been testing Patrick? "Pat," Russ
said, voice serious. "Trust me. I saw it in him the first time I met him
- the man is an obsessive. He's hurt you once. Don't give him the chance to
do it again." * After he got home that
night - early, barely midnight, Patrick took a beer from the fridge and
sprawled on the sofa with it. He'd come home early because he was just too
depressed by Russ's warning about David. It had played on his mind all night,
going around and around. What if Russ was right
and David really was obsessed? That meant Patrick's desire to put all of this
behind him might be futile - David wouldn't allow him to do that. But why the
hell was he obsessed? He didn't seem to be trying to get Patrick to come back
to him and and he'd punished him with the beating.
As far as Patrick could see the relationship was over. So why couldn't David
just drop it? Was his ego so huge that he had to go on punishing Patrick, over
and over? But it wasn't all going
one way, was it? Ray's banning David from the club, and spreading the word
about him to the rest of the clubs and bars hadn't been Patrick's idea, but
David didn't believe that. And there was the car. Who the hell had damaged
David's car? Unless he'd had done it while sleepwalking, Patrick knew he
hadn't - though wished he'd thought of the idea. Nick? No, far too
sensible. Colin? It didn't see likely. They were friends, but not that
close. Russ just wasn't passionate enough. Phil wouldn't risk getting in
trouble with the police, not with his responsibilities. Ray? No, he was too
sensible too. That's why Patrick had called him that night. Except it wasn't. Not
really. He'd called Ray because Ray made him feel safe. Even that night, when
he'd been so shaken and freaking out, when Ray held him he'd felt safe. Like
a child even, remembering being held like that in his father's arms when he
was scared or upset. It shamed him, but he
needed that now. Thinking about David stirred fear in him and he wished he
hadn't come home so early. He should have gone and talked to Ray. Sought out
his strength. Would Ray have held him again though? Patrick could have asked
him to, and yet in cold blood like that, it sounded like a pass, and he
didn't want any kind of misunderstanding to mess things up with Ray. He just wanted... strong
arms. Stronger than his own. Was that pathetic? Should a man ever want that?
A man was meant to be strong, to be the one who made others feel safe. But could
any man be strong all of the time? Did even Ray need to be held sometimes.
Did Simon? Simon. * Patrick leaned on the
railing and watched the sea crash against the rocks below. Simon was late of course,
but it didn't matter. He didn't mind spending the time watching the water,
searching it for answers. The sea breeze whipped his hair around, but he
didn't bother reaching for the band in his pocket. A car horn honked behind
him and he turned to see Simon's car pull in to the small cliff-top car park.
A couple other cars sat there too, empty, their owners presumably off walking
the cliffs and shore. An ice cream van waited for customers, the attendant
reading a newspaper. It was too early in the year to find many people here on
a Sunday afternoon. Patrick waved and turned
away again as Simon got out of the car. A couple of minutes later Simon
stepped up to him, and held out an ice cream cone. "Get your laughing
gear round that and cheer up, will you?" Patrick stared. He'd
explained everything, all his woes, on the phone the night before. Did Simon
think an ice cream could fix it? Well he apparently thought it would at least
help, so Patrick tied his hair back to keep it out of his face and took the
ice cream. Simon walked off along the cliff-top path and Patrick followed,
falling into step with him. "Knew you'd call me
eventually," Simon said. He grinned. "Just the weekend, my
arse." "Simon, that's not
why I called you. I just want to talk." That felt like a lie. He had
plenty of people to talk to. Simon wasn't for talking to. He was for...
reassurance. "Yeah, okay."
He looked at Patrick as they walked, an assessing look. Perhaps he was trying
to work out what Patrick wanted from him. But then he nodded, smiled.
"Looks like he didn't do you any permanent damage anyway. If he'd broken
any bones... shit, doesn't bear thinking about." "God, Simon, is that
all you think about?" "Well, no."
Simon smirked. "Speaking of which, where are we going to go?"
"I didn't drive all
this way for an ice cream, Pat." Oh,
of course. Should have fucking known. "I thought you came here for me," Patrick said, coldly. "Well, yeah..."
He was still smirking. "I meant to help me!
To talk!" Heat replaced the chill in Patrick's voice. "Didn't we talk last
night?" "That was on the
phone!" "What... that
doesn't count? Sorry, Pat, I don't think we have the same rulebook." He
laughed, but stopped when Patrick glared at him. "Look, what do you want
me to do anyway? Give him a kicking?" "No. I just want to
know you care about what happened!" "Of course I care.
He could have ruined your face." "I think I'm getting
a headache." How could someone so consistently miss the point? It must
be a special skill. "You're eating the
ice cream too fast," Simon said. "Here, let's sit." They sat
on one of the benches placed at regular intervals along the path. Simon
lounged on it, crunching up the last of his wafer cone. Patrick sat forward,
elbows on knees, eating his more slowly. "Simon, I'm not sure
what to do. David keeps calling me and texting me. I'm going to get another
phone, but what if he keeps on hassling me? What if he starts calling me at
work?" "Just ignore him. He
sounds like a nutter."
Simon chuckled. "Oh,
Pat." He put a hand on Patrick's shoulder and ran it down his back.
"Look, you pissed the guy off and he's throwing a towering strop. He's
obviously as huge drama queen – just like you. He'll get over it. Probably
meet some other poor sod in a couple of weeks and lose interest in you." Patrick hadn't looked at
it that way. Could it really be the case? Might the harassment just stop when
David got a new boyfriend? Simon's hand stroked through Patrick's hair. "Can we go back to
your place?" "What? No, Nick and
Col are there." They'd been settling down to study when Patrick left to
head to the coast. No way would he take Simon back there, to shoot his big mouth
off in front of those two. And sex with them in the house was out of the
question - sex with Simon anyway. He was loud and entirely devoid of
inhibitions. "Okay," Simon
said. "No worries. I happen to know a nice little guest house a few
miles up the coast. Run by an old friend of mine. He'll rent us a room for a
few hours." "That's a strange
definition of 'nice'." A nice little guest house sounded like one
run by a sweet old lady, who decorated it with lots of chintz and made lovely
meals. "What is it, a nice little knocking shop?" "Sounds nice to
me," Simon said. "Come on, I've been driving for a couple of hours,
I could use a massage. I'm really stiff." His usual wicked grin. Even if Simon's idea of
helping wasn't what Patrick hoped, going to bed would at least involve Simon
holding him. Patrick sighed and stood
up. "Let's go." * Simon dropped him off at
home, around eight o'clock, after they spent several hours at the nice little
knocking shop. It had been even more embarrassing than facing the chain
hotel's desk clerk and security guards. They'd made him angry and ashamed,
but the guest house owner, a chubby middle aged man, in a cardigan, made him
squirm and feel dirty. His gaze travelled openly up and down Patrick and he
made a most appreciative face - to Simon. Simon just grinned and gave him a
conspiratorial wink. After that, Patrick
couldn't shake the feeling of sleaziness, as he wondered how many other men
had used this bed for a few hours. And he also couldn't shake the feeling
that pervy owner probably had some way of
eavesdropping on them. Simon had held him after the sex; but all Patrick felt
was... cold. "Okay, well, bye now," Simon said, as he parked outside the
house. "You know you can call me any time and I'll come and see you."
Perhaps he was at least trying to make it sound as if he meant for support,
but Patrick didn't find it convincing. He meant he'd be happy to drive up
here for sex and that had better be on offer. "You haven't had any
dinner," Patrick said. "You could come in and eat before you
go." Though the thought of Simon in the house with Nick and Colin still
freaked Patrick out, to share a meal with him would add some normality to
their relationship. So he could think of Simon as his lover, and not just someone
who used him for sex. "No thanks. I'll
grab something on the way home. Great to see you." They didn't kiss goodbye.
Patrick tried to convince himself that was because they were on a public
street and anyone could walk by. But he didn't believe it. The car left
before he reached the front door. Inside, he found Nick and Colin in the
kitchen. "Just making
dinner," Nick said. "Weren't sure you were going to be here. Col,
shove some more chips in. Egg and chips." He grinned weakly. "Real
gourmets aren't we?" The chip pan roared as Colin poured in more frozen
chips. "Sounds good to
me," Patrick said. "I'll butter some bread." "David called here a
couple of times today," Nick said as he took eggs from the fridge. Patrick sighed. "I'm
sorry, guys. It's not fair on you." "It's not your
fault," Nick said. "Anyway, it was worth it, just to hear some of
the things Colin suggested he go do to himself." "Yeah," Colin
said, grinning. "My medical training was a big help there." "I'm fairly sure
some of the suggestions were anatomically impossible," Nick said,
"but I'd have enjoyed watching him try them." Patrick smiled at that
thought while he buttered slices of bread and piled them on a plate. "You guys have been
great through this." Yes they had. More supportive than Simon and
neither of them expected a shag in return. "I'm sure he'll stop
soon." "Yeah,"
Colin said. "When he gets his mobile phone bill. Unless they introduced
some kind of special loony bastard tariff his bill is going to be
huge!" |
© E Charles 2009