Page 48 of Indian Lace

“I know you’ve been through a lot and that angers me more than you can know. The assault, the beating, the things you’re not telling me. I needyouto know.”

“OK, I’m listening.”

“There was this guy, used to go to the local pub. He was a flirt, and after a few drinks, he would come on to any guy in the bar. Most shrugged him off, used to him, but this one night, he came over my friends and me. We were all wasted, and he started with his usual banter. He’d wear casual clothes, nothing too over the top, jeans usually paired with a cropped or mesh top, but he’d tease. Sit on the guys’ laps, rub himself against them. Some liked it, others would throw him off, but he’d stand, laugh it off, and move on to the next one. He probably needed help. To keep doing that every week, I couldn’t understand it.

“He was flirting with one of my mates and I hated it, but at the time, I didn’t know why. It wasn’t until later that it dawned on me that, I don’t know, I wanted to be like him, open and free, or that I wanted him. I was never sure what. What I did know was that I wanted him out of my face. Out of all our faces. So I started to taunt him. Called him all manner of names. Names that are now completely frowned upon, and I would never utter them again as long as I live. I don’t know how it happened, but things turned ugly. He got pushed around, knocked to the floor, and that’s when the kicks started. I never did anything physical to him. I swear that to you on Vic’s life. I never laid a finger on him. What I did, though, was encourage them with my words, and for that, I’m so sorry.”

“So you did to someone what they did to me?”

“I never laid a finger on him.” Hayden couldn’t protest enough.

“You did much worse, Hayden. You encouraged them to beat someone. What happened to him?”

“The police were called, and we were all taken in. He ended up in hospital. A few cuts and bruises but nothing serious, thank goodness. He didn’t press charges, but the fucking disappointment from my parents was just… From that day, I gave up drinking and straightened myself out. I saw a friend of my parents, a therapist who talked through a lot of my feelings with me and made me realise I was the typical cliché. The bi guy that can’t accept who he is. The guy that ultimately does have feelings for both men and women. I know this is difficult for you to hear after what you went through, and I fully understand if you can’t forgive me, but know this. I’m not that person anymore. I worked through it; I turned my life around because I had to. I became the man I am today. The hard worker, the guy who works at the local homeless shelter. I’m not purporting to be the good Samaritan that Angela says I am, but every day, I try to do a little bit better, to be a better man.”

He didn’t dare look at Ashok. He knew his words had driven him away, but strangely he felt better for having told him. The weight had lifted from his shoulders, and he felt lighter than he had in a long time.

He winced as he heard the car door slam. He’d lost him. He knew there was a chance that could happen, but he’d hoped against all hope that wouldn’t be the case. What did he do now, though? They were miles from home. He wouldn’t just abandon Ash here, so he sat and waited, the bits of food he’d eaten threatening to reappear.

As long as it took, it was the best he could do.

Chapter Twenty

Ashok

Ashokcouldn’tstayinthat car with him any longer. The disgust he felt towards the man sitting back in that car. He didn’t think he could ever forgive him.

He wished he’d brought his coat with him. It might have started off as a nice day, but as the afternoon had worn on, a chill had filled the air, and his insides too.

What was he to do? Hayden had been as bad as Jack, using words and fists and feet to punish him. Except he hadn’t, had he really? He said he’d not laid a hand on the guy, and strangely, he did believe him. Having met his family, he didn’t think he could do that. He was so very gentle and kind to Vic, watching her adoringly when he thought no one was looking.

Ashok warred with his feelings. Throwing around each scenario, every little thing he knew about Hayden, but each time coming back to the conclusion that he had been that bully. What was to stop him from going back to his old ways? What was to stop him from doing the same thing to Ashok?

In the few months he’d known him, though, he’d never once showed any sign of that. He’d always put Ashok first, even when he didn’t know him. And then there was Seb and Dom. Both were in loving, gay relationships and never had Ashok felt any animosity or hostility towards them from Hayden. He classed them as his best friends, for fuck’s sake.

Everything was confusing him. He didn’t know what was right or wrong. He knew that what Hayden had done was so very wrong, but throw in booze and peer pressure... He knew all too well how that turned out. The question was, could he forgive him?

Did he want forgiveness? Ashok wasn’t sure. He’d had friends that were scared of their sexuality and had hit out before finally accepting who they were. It was an old cliché. Add in that Hayden had received therapy, realising that he had a problem, and he was starting to feel some empathy towards him.

Could he forgive him fully? He wasn’t sure, but sitting out here in the cold wasn’t going to help him make up his mind. It was full of confusion, of conflicting thoughts. Thoughts he couldn’t yet put into words. He wanted to go home. Not to London, he didn’t mean that. He’d go back to Hayden’s house, and he’d move himself back into the little room. They’d never quite got around to moving Jerome, so he’d spend time there and consider his next move. If that meant moving out to another place, then so be it. That’s what he’d do.

He walked back to the car, shivering. Hayden watched him and pushed open the passenger door for him to get in. Neither of them uttered a word.

Hayden looked as if he’d been crying, his red-rimmed eyes standing out against the paleness of his skin. Ashok couldn’t feel sorry for him right now. He had enough going on to even contemplate that.

The drive home was fraught with tension. Ashok stared out of the window, deciding if this was all worth it. Did he really want to be involved with this? Could he be arsed? He still had the problem of his father hanging over his head.

The few calls he’d had with his mum and brother told him nothing he didn’t already know. His father was still looking for him and was considering paying a private detective. WTF? Why the hell couldn’t he just let him go quietly? He didn’t like him, and Ashok thought he’d done him a favour by leaving.

Today had started off so well too. Hayden had packed the most delicious picnic with all his favourites. He’d bought tickets to the exhibition he’d wanted to see for ages. Was he really that person? Would that person have done all that for him?

Ugh! It was all so complicated and messed up. He just wanted to go to his room and sleep. He wished he had someone to talk to about this, but there were no friends back in London and the only ones he had here were Seb and Dom, Hayden’s best friends. Feeling truly alone, he cried silent tears until they finally arrived home. He didn’t think he had any more to shed, but the moment the door to his room closed behind him. He cried, seriously considering his place here, debating whether he should look elsewhere for a job.

The problem was, he’d grown attached to everyone here. Even bloody Hayden. Why was everything so difficult?

He heard Hayden walking around the house, but soon enough, even that stopped and everything went silent. He pulled out his phone, looking through his contacts. There was no one, and that in itself was sad as fuck. Not one friend. Except there was one person he could talk to. The day he’d left Hayden’s parents’ house, Dianne had whispered that if ever he needed a friend, he could always call her.

Was that right? Could he talk to her about it?

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