Date: Thu, 14 Aug 2003 10:07:05 +0100 From: Drew Hunt Subject: The Missing Manhole Cover Disclaimer: The following short story is fiction. To the best of the author's knowledge none of the characters exist. If you think you resemble either of the two main characters, then count yourself lucky. If you are under the legal age to be reading stories with a homosexual content, then you should leave. Equally if reading such material in your community is illegal then you too shouldn't read on. This story is copyright. It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the terms of its submission agreement but it may not be copied or archived on any other website without the prior written permission of the author. If you have begun reading this story in search of something to jerk off to, then I'm afraid you'll be left rather frustrated by the end of this piece. I've tried to create a story about a man who, despite previous bad experiences stumbles across someone who he hopes will be 'the one'. Plaudits and salutations to John for his help in spotting all those little errors, thank you my friend for your continued wise counsel. The Missing Manhole Cover Or The Unimportant Life Of Ernest It started out as your typical Saturday. I woke up a little after ten in the morning. I always like a lie in at the weekend, and the heat wave we Londoner's had been enjoying meant that I couldn't get to sleep the previous night. It would have been easier if I'd had a nice cuddly man to snuggle up against in my bed, but as they say, once bitten twice shy. When I was sufficiently awake to coordinate my hand movements, I reached over and switched on my bedside radio. The strains of my favourite classical music station helped me to become more aware of my surroundings. As the long and depressing litany of murders, the goings on in Westminster and which well known figure in the public eye was suspected of having a relationship with another well known figure in the public eye were being recounted to me by an overly cheerful voice, I decided to start my day. First job was to get out of bed and relieve my bladder, brush my teeth and perform all the other morning rituals. Once dressed in a loose fitting pair of shorts and an oversized white T-shirt, I'd taken heed of the advice given by another overly friendly voice, this one belonging to the weather man, no sorry weather person to give them their politically correct tag. Though I'd have to smarten up my attire to meet Laurence for lunch, but that wasn't until 1,00 pm. The milk in the fridge had gone off, so after making a note on the pad, which was stuck to the fridge door with my Hilda Ogden (a well loved character in the soap opera Coronation Street) fridge magnet to buy more milk, I settled for a glass of orange juice and a toasted bagel. That basically was breakfast. Mother, who was being dried out in yet another overly priced private clinic, would have been horrified at the meagreness of my morning repast, but who cared. A quick sift through my post, nothing but junk, a gas bill, and oh joy of joys I'd been selected for the Readers' Digest prize draw, oh be still my beating heart. So setting the gas bill to one side, the rest went straight into the now overflowing pedal bin. I added 'Bin liners' to the pad on the fridge door. A quick sniff at the cat's litter tray, and I added 'Cat Litter' to the list too. Well that was my glittering morning routine finished. A quick look up at the calendar confirmed an idea, which had been slowly brewing in my brain. Aha the second Saturday of the month, my copy of the history part work I'd been collecting would be waiting for me at the newsagents on the High Street. So having little else to fill my boring little existence, I put on a pair of sandals and tripped my way down to Mr Hussein's shop. I thought I might as well get myself a copy of The Guardian newspaper whilst I was at it. I'm not a regular newspaper reader, but I thought as it was going to be so warm today, I'd erect my parasol in my postage stamp sized garden out the back, and sit in the padded folding chair, which I'd bought at the end of last summer. So picking up my newspaper, and getting out a 4-pint carton of whole milk, I can't stand the semi or fully messed about with kind, I went up to the counter and asked for the magazine from Mrs Hussein. Then following the usual polite enquiries about the health of their extended family, the expected warm weather and the disgraceful amount of chewing gum on the pavements, I slowly made my way back along my street of Victorian terraced houses, whilst leafing through my magazine. I was engrossed in a rather interesting article on Project Ultra, the top secret wartime code-breaking experiment that the allies had set up during the second world war to intercept and decode the Nazi military signals, when a beautifully soft Irish voice brought me back to the present. "Please be careful sir." I looked up just in time to save myself from falling down a hole in the pavement, caused by the absence of a manhole cover, or whatever the now politically correct term for such things are. Somehow person-hole cover doesn't well erm, cover it. "Oh thanks." I said smiling into the beautiful face of a Policeman. I took in a sharp breath as the full impact of this stud's magnificence impacted into my brain. It was a good job I was wearing loose shorts, because Mr Happy was well erm, extremely happy, at the broad chested hunk in front of me. Okay time for a bit of description. PC Plod stood arms akimbo, his whiter than white short-sleeved shirt stretching over what looked like a wonderfully muscled chest and oh so broad shoulders. The top button of the shirt was open to reveal the beginnings of a curly carpet of dark red chest hair. A quick sweep of my eyes upwards revealed a dazzling smile, the teeth just as perfectly white as the shirt. Oh and such piercingly clear blue eyes. I began to melt. This man could either model clothes or toothpaste I mused. And the hair, oh how beautiful, a tight mop of curly red hair topped this 6 feet 3 inch Adonis. I longed to run my fingers through those locks. But my eyes travelled downward to his not inconsiderable crotch. A quick glance to the pavement revealed that this stud was wearing a large pair of shiny black shoes. At least size 12 I thought. I wondered about the authenticity of the old adage regarding the correlation between feet and cock size. Oh to get my hands on that truncheon. Yes I know British policemen wield nightsticks these days, but it doesn't have the same literary ring to it. This man who was sent out daily to protect innocent citizens looked to be in his early thirties. Oh he could protect this innocent citizen no danger. Though alas I lost my innocence thanks to that bastard of an American student Bradley Talbot III quite a number of years ago. Though not enough years had gone by for the deep hurt in my heart to have fully healed. Whilst we are doing the descriptive thing, I might as well spare a few lines to give my own details such as they are. Average seems to cover most of my modest features. Average brown hair, medium length, grey eyes, and average looking face, a smidgeon less than six feet tall. Added to my average and perhaps slightly overweight forty-one year old frame, and not forgetting the average sized dick, that's me kind of sewn up. "I'm afraid it seems likely that a group of youths made off with the manhole cover, there's been a spate of such incidents lately." The vision spoke. I hope I said something intelligible in response, as I found myself drawn ever deeper into those eyes. "You alright sir?" He was speaking again. "Erm oh yes, sorry, it's this heat I think frying my brain." "Yes it's a bit much isn't it?" Plod said using his cap to fan his beautiful face. "Erm yeah." I said dreamily. "Oh forgive me. Will you have to stop here for long?" "Well until the Council come with another cover. I've radioed in, but you know what it's like to get a Council workman out, especially on a Saturday too." "Yeah." I said distractedly, I had to snap out of this before I made an even bigger prat of myself. "Look I was just about to go back inside to my place." I pointed at my front door immediately behind him. "I was going to have a glass of Ice tea. Would you like some too?" "Oh I've never tried it, but it sounds nice." "Yes an American friend, well erm an American who I used to know," I said trying to keep the grimace off my face, "got me hooked on the stuff. It's just the thing on a hot day. I'll bring you out a glass shall I?" "Oh lovely thank you." I rushed inside. I didn't want to be parted from this God for long. In my haste I tripped over the threshold, and went headlong into the hall. Fortunately I managed to grab hold of the doorknob, which prevented me from going arse over tit. I'd made up a pitcher of Ice Tea the night before, so I reached up to the cupboard and got out the best glass tumblers, I put some crushed ice into the bottom of the glasses, then I poured in a generous amount of the chilled liquid. After putting the pitcher back in the fridge, I gently carried the too glasses out to the waiting hunk. I thought I would drink mine out there too; it would give me an excuse to be near him, gaze at his beauty and engage him in conversation for a while. "Okay here we are PC 465." I said glancing at the numbers on his shoulder as I came back out onto the street. I handed over one of the tall glasses to him. As our fingers brushed against each other, I became thankful once again for the loose fitting shorts. The ice in the glass in my other hand was clinking away at the slight tremor that the brief contact with his flesh had set off. "Oh please call me Liam." The vision said. He took a swig from the glass. "This is great." He said treating me to a smile, which further heated my already overheated insides. We both sat down on the low brick wall that separated my miniature front yard from the street. My fearless fighter of crime stretched out his oh so long and thickly muscled legs in front of him. I gulped at the sight, and took a swallow of the tea to try and calm myself down. Then I realised I had gone off into dreamland again, and I hadn't spoken for the past minute. "Oh forgive my ill manners, I'm Ernest, Ernest Porter. Mum was, and I guess still is an Oscar Wilde fan, hence the ridiculously old-fashioned Christian name." The vision treated me to another wide grin. "Great to meet you Ernest." He said holding up his glass in a kind of a toast gesture. "Though if I told you my middle name, that would reveal a fair bit about dad's reading habits just before I was born." I raised an eyebrow. "Yeah," He blushed slightly, God he looked so sweet and innocent when he blushed. "It's Ulysses. Dad was a Joyce fan." "Joyce Grenfell?" I questioned. "Now you'll be pulling my leg so you will. No I meant James Joyce." Oh how his eyes twinkled when he laughed. "Yeah sorry you were right I was pulling your leg. Parents should take the job of naming their children responsibly." I said taking another long pull on my tea. "Yeah it caused quite a few laughs down the station when the lads found out about my name. Though I bet none of them have read Joyce, half of them still have to run their fingers across the page and you can see their lips moving when they read." "It's not that bad surely? I thought you needed a handful of O-levels or GCSE's or whatever they call them nowadays to become a boy in blue?" "Yeah I was being a bit cruel I guess. It's just my mates down the section house where I sleep, kept me up half of last night. Paul, one of the guys on my relief is getting hitched today, and it was his stag do last night." "Oh right. You didn't fancy going then?" "Well I had to work today, and frankly all that boozing doesn't suit me. I don't see the point in tanking yourself up with ale, then seeing it all either come back up again or peeing it out the other end. I prefer a nice glass of wine with one or two friends either in a quiet pub, or at home. Well their home, can't really take them back to the digs." "Yes I see a man after my own heart. I can't think of anything nicer than spending a cosy evening with conducive company over a decent vintage." "Yeah." Another brilliant smile. 'Oh please don't smile at me like that, it's not fair'. "So erm been pounding the beat long?" Hey it was hot out there and I was scrabbling around to try and keep the conversation going. "Oh since my early twenties. Don't know quite what attracted me to the job really." 'The uniform' I thought. "Yes well I'm sure it's a good career with plenty of opportunities for advancement." I said. "I guess so, but I've gotten myself in a bit of a rut lately." We continued to talk, the level of tea was getting ever lower in his glass, and I was trying to think of a way I could spend more time with Liam, without being too obvious about it. Then a white Council van pulled up and two jovial individuals in greasy overalls alighted from the front. "Ah so this is the whole then?" The first workman, a bare of very little brain asked. I winked at Liam who gave out a chuckle. The first oaf scratched his head and muttered something semi-technical to his colleague. "Right Jim, we've got one of 'em in the back." Workman number two said. The two men spent a few minutes moving things around in the rear of their vehicle. Then they emerged with a metal cover. Unfortunately for me it fitted. My short-lived time in paradise talking to this angel in blue was about to come to an end. "Oh it's time for Refs." Liam said, looking at his watch. "I generally go down the greasy spoon just off the High Street for a sandwich. It's much easier than going back to the station canteen." "Oh please come into the house, I'm sure I can rustle something up for you." I wondered at first who had spoken, then I realised I had. 'You don't pick men up any more not after the last time.' I thought. "Oh I wouldn't want to put you out." He said shyly. His shy act was so adorable. "Not at all. I was about to make myself something anyway." I lied. "So it'll be no extra trouble." "Thank you very much Ernest, I'd enjoy that." He said something into his radio on his lapel, which had been quietly squawking away the whole time we'd been conversing. Then he turned it off and we ascended the few steps to the house, and I got the beautiful man sat down on one of the hard chairs in my small kitchen. I busied myself trying to create something from the few items I had in stock. I didn't keep that much in the house, as I didn't do any entertaining. Still I managed to cobble together a few ham and tomato sandwiches, and there was still half of a cherry cake I'd bought at Safeway, so combined with more Ice tea, this formed our lunch. "So Ernest do you have any Gwendolyns, Cicelys, or perhaps a John or an Algernon as a sibling?" Liam's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Oh you know the play then?" "Yes very well." "No I'm an only child, but my Aunt Phyllis could give lady Bracknell a run for her money." Liam laughed. A beautifully rich sound it was too. "Well there's a ton of us. I've got five brothers, and three sisters. I'm kind of in the middle somewhere." "Oh quite a crowd then. They all live back in Ireland?" "Yeah." He said wistfully. "Do you go back and visit much?" He shook his head and for a moment I thought I saw a flash of pain in his eyes. I moved on quickly. "Well there's just me and Lane." "You've got a butler?" He asked in surprise. "No, no." I laughed. "Lane is the cat. He's black and white, and well mother in one of her less sober moments thought he looked a bit like a butler in livery, so the name stuck." "Oh right." He said treating me to another gloriously warm smile. I went all nice and mushy inside at the sight. I recovered quickly and continued with the family saga. "Yes just me and the moggy. Dad ran off with his secretary about five years ago, and mum hasn't been the same since. She took it badly and spends most of her time looking into the bottom of a whisky glass." "Oh I'm sorry to hear that." He said sounding sincere. "Oh it's okay. Mum leads her own life, and I lead mine." "And what do you do with your life?" He asked. "Well I spent some time in the city, I made a killing, but I hated the cut and thrust world of buying and selling shares. So I left before the job burnt me out. I do a bit of voluntary work now and again, in an effort to try and put something back you know?" "Yes I know what you mean. I coach a local boys soccer team for inner city kids on Sunday's during the season. But I'm pretty much at a loose end at the moment." "No romantic prospects?" "No not really, whenever I start to get close to someone, when they find out what I do, it generally scares them off." "That's silly. You do a wonderful job. I guess there is the odd bad apple in every barrel, but I'm sure most of you are good upstanding people." "Thanks." He said quietly. "Have you got anyone special in your life?" I shook my head. "I thought I did once a long time ago, but it ended rather painfully." I was well practiced at the non-gender specific phrasing. "I came home one day and found a Dear John letter waiting for me on the table." Liam looked genuinely saddened. I wondered if he would still be sad if he knew that the person who'd written the letter was another man. "Oh look I'll have to get back out on the streets I'm afraid. Loads more criminals to apprehend you know." His eyes glinted again. "When constabulary duty's to be done, a Policeman's lot is not a happy one." I said quoting W S Gilbert. I got another burst of twinkling. I tried quickly to think of something that would enable me to see him again. "Look you said you weren't doing anything much tomorrow as it's the closed season as far as your coaching is concerned. I was planning to take a trip out into the country somewhere. You know stop off at a pub or take a picnic and then go for a walk afterwards. If you've nothing better to do, I'd welcome the company." I expected him to refuse; I hoped I didn't come across as too desperate. His face lit up. "Oh Ernest that would be great. I was just going to stick around the section house slowly growing bored. The idea of getting out of London sounds wonderful." "Great then. Do you want me to pick you up outside your digs?" He told me where he lived, and I told him what time I'd be there. Just before he left the house, he gave me a quick hug. I thought I would cum in my shorts. Fortunately I didn't have to speak, because I'd have been too out of breath to force any air past my vocal chords. I just gave him a quick return squeeze, and we parted. I collapsed back into the kitchen chair wondering what on earth I'd gotten myself into. "You don't date. And you certainly don't arrange to go out for the day with a straight guy, and a policeman to boot. Oh what the hell have you gotten yourself into Ernest Porter?" I asked the oven door. Though you won't be surprised to learn the oven didn't offer a reply. I didn't know what to do with myself for the rest of the day. Was I about to make a total prat of myself? Was I going to get hurt all over again? Or could I maintain a straight friendship with Liam? Hell I didn't even know his last name. All I knew was Liam Ulysses; the name flowed off the tongue beautifully. These and many other questions occupied my mind so much that I barely read a word of my newspaper as I sat out in my back garden. The telephone woke me from my musings. I went back inside the house to answer it. I hadn't got around to buying myself a cordless. "Hello Ernest darling!" It was Laurence. Shit I'd forgotten to meet him for lunch. No doubt I'd get my ear chewed off about being so inattentive. Though of course it was a whole different ball game when Laurence the Lovie didn't turn up. Oh that was a completely different story then. I was pretty sure I knew what he was going to ask me over lunch. He'd invited me to eat with him at the Savoy, even though he'd made the invitation, I would have ended up paying for the meal. I bet the old queen was pissed off that he had to put his hand in his pocket for his meal. Laurence, every inch the director of his little band of amateur thespians would have enthusiastically begged me to paint the backcloths for his latest production. Gilbert and Sullivan's Mikado I think it was this time around. 'Oh darling we desperately need your tender brushwork to give our little effort that extra bit of Japanese realism' I could imagine him saying over the sweet course. And naturally enough I'd agree to do it. "Oh Hello Laurence. Look I'm...." "Oh darling I'm so desperately sorry to have missed you today, but Horace was having one of his little turns. I swear the old dear is such a drama queen." 'Well it takes one to know one' I thought. "Yes well it'...." "Oh the poor dear had gotten himself into such a tizzy about his wine and cheese get together he's organising. Now you will be there for that darling won't you?" "No!" I said sharply, this was the only way to get dear old Laurence back on track, or so I hoped. There was silence at the other end. "Are you feeling alright Ernest dear?" "I've got a little headache coming on." "Oh don't talk to me about headaches, I've been a martyr to the migraine for years as you know." He then prattled on for the next ten minutes giving me seemingly endless details of his medical failings. "Oh what I originally wanted to ask you was darling, we desperately need your tender brushwork to give our little effort that extra bit of Japanese realism. You know for our little production of G and S's Mikado." I smiled to myself, I'd predicted exactly what Laurence had wanted, and so used was I to his phrasing; I got him word for word too. "Yes darling sweetheart I'll do that little thing for you lovie." I thought I'd give him a taste of his own medicine. He squealed in delight down the phone at me. Although I actually didn't have a headache when the phone call began, I was starting to get one now. "Oh you absolute sweetheart. I knew you wouldn't let us down." "Since when have I?" "I know you're a brick, a real trooper." "Thank you Laurence, and I accept your apology for not turning up at lunch today." "Oh you're a star Ernest a true gem." I managed to end the call a minute later. I thought I'd gotten off quite lightly considering. I'd saved the cost of lunch anyway. I'd been friends with Laurence, Horace and the gang for years. They were my gay sisters really. Most were a bit older than me and had upper class aspirations. Bless their hearts many were rather queenly too. Laurence probably was the most effeminate of the lot. My mind drifted back to the first time they encountered Bradley. Horace had rung up inviting me to one of his frequent little parties. These were merely an excuse for the queens to gather round and dish the dirt on their other friends. Well I wasn't at home when the call came, and Bradley accepted on our behalf. I should have known that a boy from a hick town in the mid west wouldn't mix well with the refined Horace, Laurence and Timothy's of this world, but I was in love with my American guy, and stupidly I didn't ring up to cancel our invitation. As the party drew nearer, I lost count of the number of times I told Bradley to behave, not to pick up his food with his hands, and to work from the outside in with the cutlery. All went swimmingly for the first ten minutes. I began to breathe more easily. 'Perhaps this might work after all' I said to myself. Then during a brief lull in the conversation, I witnessed from across the room Bradley putting his arm around Laurence's shoulder, and loudly announcing in his thickest accent "Jeez Larry d'you know where the John is at?" The room went totally silent; a quick look around revealed several thousand pounds worth of dental bridgework on view. No one, absolutely no one addressed Laurence as Larry, and to end the sentence with a preposition too. However, Laurence recovered as best he could. "I'm afraid," He said in a high-pitched voice, and then he cleared his throat and resumed at his normal pitch "I'm afraid John had to cry off today." Bradley slapped him on the back pretty hard. Bradley didn't know his own strength half the time, Laurence pitched forward. "Oh you Brits have such a cute sense of humour don't you? No I wanted 'The John'" He enunciated, "You know the out house, the water closet, the little boys room." The party didn't really recover after that. Yes my friends were overly snooty, and Bradley told me later that he did it to 'puncture their pompous asses.' It seemed Laurence had said something about the States being a former colony, this naturally enough got Bradley's goat. I got Bradley out of there, I tried to be mad with him, but I loved him. The dirty lower than a snakes belly bastard he later turned out to be. The chiming of the clock in the hall thankfully interrupted my thoughts. "Oh gracious I'll have to go out and get some stuff in for sandwiches for tomorrow." I said out loud to the oven. It still didn't offer a response. I retrieved my shopping list from underneath Hilda Ogden, (a present from great aunt Brenda) and I took it down to Safeway with me. As I walked the aisles pushing my trolley, I wondered what kind of food Liam liked. I thought about just getting a hamper from Fortnum's, but would that come across as being too extravagant? I didn't want to frighten the lad off. I got what I thought necessary, along with the other essentials I seemed to buy week in, week out, and went to the checkout to pay. * * * * * I listened to the Saturday evening Promenade concert from the Royal Albert Hall on the radio that night. It was pretty good. Although the Saturday concerts were generally aimed at a broader audience, I thought the BBC Symphony Orchestra tackled the Beethoven Choral Symphony pretty well considering. I decided to shower, I even had a good old wank as I washed. Thoughts of having those gorgeously strong arms of Liam's holding me sent me over the cliff. I watched the milky fluid swirl down the drain as I leant spent against the tiled wall of the shower cubicle. Despite the still oppressive heat, I got a good nights rest dreaming of my knight in shining blue, rescuing me from an ever more improbable series of dangerous situations. * * * * * I'd spied Liam leaning against the entry door to the section house as I drew up the next morning. God he looked so beautiful just lounging against the door like that. Then when he'd spotted me his whole face broke out into one of those body-warming smiles of his. It's a good job I'd almost stopped the car, because seeing him made me forget how to drive. I'd have to pull myself together, and pretty sharpish too if I didn't want to make a fool of myself. "Hello Liam. I wasn't late was I?" I knew that I was actually five minutes early; I'd left myself plenty of time. In fact I had paced up and down the house for twenty minutes before I judged it was time to leave. "No, no not at all." He said treating me to another face splitting grin. "Good. I threw a few things together for us to eat later." I said. I'd actually bought out half the things from the deli counter at the supermarket. I'd over provisioned big time, but in my own defence I didn't know what he liked. "Oh lovely. I eat pretty much anything. It was a case of eat while you could at home, with so many of us there, you had to grab it before someone else did." "I thought we'd take a trip into Epping Forest." I said. "Oh lovely, it's a while since I was there." It didn't take too long to get into the forest. At least with Liam along for company, the time seemed to fly by. "Okay is there anything special you want to do whilst we're here?" I asked. "Erm could we do some horse riding?" "Horse riding? I haven't been on a horse in twenty years." I said. His face fell a bit. "Oh okay then. "Erm I'd like to see the Elizabethan hunting lodge again." I changed course and we soon pulled up outside some riding stables. A friend of a friend worked there, and I knew we'd be able to get a couple of horses hired for the morning. "Oh wow, I thought we were going to the lodge." Liam's child-like expression was so endearing, I wanted so much to lean over and lay my lips on his own luscious full ones. "Ah well Mr Policeman sir, the lodge doesn't open till the afternoon, so we've got a morning free. And if I'm going to get travel sick atop one of those nags," I pointed into the field opposite, "Then I want to do it before lunch." Liam got out of the car; it was just like seeing a child at Christmas. I'd put up with any amount of discomfort just to see him look so happy. After a couple of false starts, and a few good laughs from Liam and one of the grooms, I managed to get myself on the horses back. "Congratulations." Liam called over from his own mount." "Thanks, now which button do I press to get the thing started?" I said. Liam treated me to a full on laugh. Actually it wasn't too bad. At first it was like being on some kind of weird mechanism with each of the four corners collapsing in sequence, but when we started going a bit faster, the ride seemed more comfortable. Though I told Liam there was absolutely no way I was going to gallop. The scenery sat up on a horse was very good. The tree's and open spaces looked so different at this height. Mind you when Liam astride his trusty steed Amber was directly in front of me, the scenery was equally glorious. It was lovely watching his cute firm arse bouncing up and down in the saddle. And although the riding hat hid his gorgeous locks, the hat really suited him. "Okay, I think we ought to turn back." I said to Liam once we'd been going for about an hour. "Okay, but do you know the way back?" "Erm I'm not sure." I said. "I thought you Policemen were supposed to be trained to be observant, didn't you take note of where we were going?" "No I was enjoying myself too much." We needn't have worried though, it wasn't that difficult to get back, and the horses seemed to know the way home anyway. So a sweaty but happy duo arrived back at the stables a few minutes before our allotted two hours were over. Liam seemed to dismount with practiced ease. I however had more difficulty. "There's never a fence around when you need one." I grumbled. "Oh come on, if you fall, I'll catch you." Liam said looking up at me, his gorgeous blue eyes in full mischievous sparkle. "Promises promises." I said. Then I immediately regretted my words. 'Play it straight Ernest.' I told myself. I managed to separate myself from the nag without too much difficulty. It wasn't overly graceful, but it was effective. I brushed myself down as best I could. "I'll stink of horses for the rest of the day." I moaned as we left the stables. "Well so will I." Liam said reasonably. "Okay do you want lunch now?" I asked as we walked towards the car. "Yeah I have to admit I'm getting a bit peckish." He said rubbing his firm stomach. I had to look away because I so wanted to do that to him. I started the car and we drove to a popular picnic area. We walked with the wicker basket between us, each holding one of the handles. 'Oh the picture of domestic bliss' I thought. "Okay, that looks like as good a place as any." Liam said pointing at a picnic bench to his right. So we walked to the indicated spot and hoisted the basket onto the bench. "It felt like you'd bought half of Sainsbury's." He said rubbing the arm that had been holding the basket. "Oh you big wuss. It was Safeway actually." He treated me to another 1000-watt smile. I sat down quickly to hide the reappearance of Mr Happy. "Why are there no cucumber sandwiches?" Liam asked as I dished out the goodies. I was about to tell him that I didn't make any because cucumber always gives me wind, then I spotted the glint of mischief in his eyes. "There were no cucumbers in the market this morning sir. I went down twice." I said. "No cucumbers!" "No sir. Not even for ready money." I came back. We had been quoting lines from Oscar Wilde's 'The Importance Of Being Earnest' the play that had inspired my name. We dissolved into laughter. During the meal I asked, "So as your dad was such a fan of James Joyce, have you any Leopold's, Molly's or perhaps a Simon or a Stephen Dedalus in your family?" He laughed. "One of my sister's is called Molly, but mam swears that's because of Molly Malone." "Oh right." I smiled. "By the way, I don't know your last name." "McAvoy." "Then here's to you Liam Ulysses McAvoy." I said raising my glass of red wine to him, "And here's to you Ernest Porter. Your middle name isn't Worthing by any chance?" The sparkle in his eyes was back. "No, I don't have a middle name." We clinked our glasses. 'Liam Ulysses McAvoy oh the poetry in that name'. We spent much of the rest of the meal quoting lines from Wilde's play to one another. I had a wonderful time, and judging by Liam's happy expression, he did too. After we'd eaten the chocolate éclairs, I'd actually thought about buying cream horns, but the innuendo would have been too uncomfortable for me to stand. When I looked up at Liam after he'd finished I saw that he had a spot of cream on his top lip. It took all my will power not to lean forward and lick it off his face. Instead I smiled and told him about it. "Oh thanks." He said wiping it away. "When I was little, mam would have got a paper tissue from her handbag and licked the corner before wiping it off my face, so embarrassing." Then together we said in a loud voice imitating Dame Edith Evans. "A HANDBAG?" We dissolved totally then. We got a few curious looks from the other picnickers, but I couldn't have cared less. We sat for ages on that bench, but in Liam's company the time seemed to fly by. I just felt so warm, comfortable and safe in his presence. Eventually Liam said that he needed the loo. "Well go behind a tree then. There's plenty to choose from." I said. He looked a bit shy then. "But someone might see." Oh his cute vulnerable act was so adorable. "Oh come on I'll go and hold your hand if you like." I would have to watch these slip-ups. We left the basket on the bench and went into the woods together. We found a likely looking tree and I heard his zipper go down. It was a super-human effort, but I resisted the temptation to look. Though the noise of his urine hitting the bark did little to quell my rising passions. I whipped out Mr Happy too, and emptied my own bladder. Once I heard his zipper go back up, I felt it was safe enough to look at him again. "Okay now?" I asked. "Yeah there's something thrilling about pissing in the open air isn't there?" I didn't really want to get into this discussion, because golden showers and the rest were a particular turn on for me. "Yeah, I think we ought to get back to the picnic basket. I don't want anyone walking off with it." We again took one handle of the basket each. It was much lighter now. God that man could put away his food. It was lovely to watch him eat. I never thought that watching a man's jaw masticate his food would be erotic, but seeing Liam's bottom jaw moving as he ate was just so sexy. 'Oh you've got it bad Ernest'. We swung the basket as we walked back to the car. "There are such a wide variety of trees here." Liam said looking around. "Yes over fifty in fact. The place is a haven for wild birds too. All three species of woodpecker can be found here. There are Nightingales, Hawfinches, Tree Creepers and nuthatches. There's also quite a few water foul as well Great Crested Grebes, Gadwalls, Goosanders and Widgeons. Would you believe there's more than 80 artificial ponds and lakes in the Forest?" "Oh you seem to know your stuff." He said looking over at me. "Yeah I've volunteered here a few times to do some forestry. It's nice to get away from the hustle and bustle and get back to nature sometimes." "I miss the quiet peacefulness of my part of Ireland sometimes." He said looking sad. I didn't feel I ought to pry, so I left him to his thoughts. Getting back to the car we hoisted the basket into the boot. "Well Constable McAvoy, we can walk to the hunting lodge from here if you're up to it?" "Sounds like a wonderful idea." He said treating me to another face splitting grin. 'Oh I'll have to get some tablets to regulate my heart rate if he keeps on doing that.' As we made our way to the lodge I began to tell Liam about some of the other forest creatures. "There are about 1,500 types of fungi, and more than 500 rare and endangered insects in this place." I said swatting away a rather persistent fly. "Oh I see I'm in the presence of an expert." "Oh sorry, I didn't mean to come across as an anorak." He reached over and gave my shoulder a squeeze. "Oh no Ernest you haven't done that at all. I'm having a really wonderful day. Honestly I am." "Thanks I am too." I didn't trust myself to take that line of thought any further. We soon got to the lodge. "You know even though it's known as the Elizabethan Hunting Lodge, it was originally built for King Henry VIII in 1543. Queen Elizabeth I was a keen hunter like her father, she's responsible for this brick chimney." I said as we stood in front of the said structure. We toured round some more of the fascinating old building. It was lovely to see it again, and it was made even more pleasant due to Liam's company. "If these timbers could speak, I bet they'd have a tale to tell." Liam said patting one of the ancient beams. "Yes I know what you mean." I said. "I think we ought to be making a move though. They shut this place at 4 pm." I looked at my watch. "We'll take a gentle stroll back to the car I think." Liam seemed a bit disappointed. "Well we can go the long way back to the car if you like?" His 1000-watt smile told me that he thought my idea was a winner. The only trouble was the long way round, turned out to be the very long way round. "Do you think they have blokes who help out people who've got lost?" Liam asked once we'd been walking for a couple of hours. "What you mean like policemen?" I got another smile, but it was a little lazier now, he was obviously getting tired. Though the lazy look was, if anything more appealing. "Aha!" I said spotting a signpost. "The car park is just ahead." Thankfully I was right. So after I'd taken a swig from the bottle of lemonade that was in the car, it was wonderful to have my lips round something which only a minute earlier had been touched by those beautiful lips of his, we made our way back home. Liam looked tired but content as he leant back in the passenger seat. "Thanks for a great day Ernest. Being in the woods meant we avoided some of the heat of the day." "Yes it's often a bit cooler in the forest. That's why I thought of going there." "And it was a great idea." He squeezed my knee as he got out of my car. I watched his jeans clad arse as it moved through the front door of his section house. I took a deep breath and drove home. * * * * * Liam and I saw each other fairly frequently over the next few weeks. Mind you the frequency of the encounters was mainly due to me working out the route he took on his beat, so I'd accidentally on purpose come across him. Oh he looked so sexy in that white short sleeved shirt of his, as he helped old ladies across the road, gave people directions that sort of thing. I'd often hang back a bit and just watch his cat like graceful movements as he flowed along the pavement. I will admit the first time I laid eyes on Liam; it was his body that had me in serious lust. However after spending time with him, I began to appreciate Liam for the kind, gentle and warm soul that he was. Yes what started out as lust so quickly turned into love. But it seemed that it would be love of the unrequited kind. I was faced with the age-old gay man's dilemma. Should I keep Liam as a straight friend, could I keep Liam as a straight friend? Or should I risk coming out to him in the hopes of gaining so much more, but with the real risk of losing what I already had? It was a dilemma that was keeping me awake at nights. I wasn't eating properly and I was losing weight with the worry of it all. I decided I needed some advice, the oven was still as unresponsive to my questions as ever, so I turned to my gay sisters. Timothy was perhaps the most sensitive and in tune with my moods of any of my circle of friends. He'd had the pleasure of being with Robert his partner for nearly thirty years. Unfortunately Robert had a heart defect that no one knew about, and one evening when Robert climbed the stairs, he had a massive heart attack. The doctors told Timothy that Robert would have been dead before he hit the floor, and wouldn't have known a thing. It took Timothy a long while to build up his life again, but he'd done it with the aid of his friends. It came as little surprise to me that when Timothy took one look at me as I stood on his doorstep, he said, "You've got it bad haven't you?" I just nodded. He invited me in, and over a pot of Earl Grey I told him the whole tale. Or should that be the tale of the hole? "Well there is one thing for certain. You can't go on like you're doing now sweetheart. It's making you ill." Timothy said squeezing my hand. I had to agree. Timothy had warned me of the possible dangers of coming out to Liam, but he had to admit that it was probably my only hope of keeping my sanity. So with a course of action agreed upon, I left Timothy's elegantly appointed dwelling and went home. I'd arranged to meet Liam in the park for lunch the next day. I said I'd supply the sandwiches. He'd complained that I always brought the food, but after I'd asked him if he had the facilities to make up sandwiches, he was forced to concede that he didn't. He also said that he was totally hopeless in the kitchen anyway. So I sat on the partially shaded bench awaiting my fate. Fortunately I didn't have to wait long. "Ello, ello, ello." He said bending his knees, his customary wide grin plastered on his face. However I was so perturbed I barely smiled in return. "What is it Ernest, you've been rather distracted for the past week now?" He said setting himself down next to me and giving my knee a squeeze. "I know." I said quietly as I handed over his food. "Listen Liam I've got something I need to tell you. It's been eating away at me for a while now, and if I don't tell you, I fear I'll go mad." "You're not ill are you?" He said his face a mask of concern. "Well no, though some people might think I am." He looked confused. "Look Liam I'm going to tell you something and then I'm going to have a walk round the lake, and then I'll come back here. Well in fact I'm going to tell you two things. If you can't accept what I tell you, then please whilst I'm taking my walk, please just go, and I promise I won't ever bother you again." He looked totally confused and more than a little upset. "I don't understand." "You will." I took a deep breath. I had to look down at the ground I couldn't meet his eyes. "Okay here we go. Number one, I'm gay. Number two Liam I'm sorry, I've tried to fight it; God knows I have, but I'm totally, hopelessly and completely in love with you. Now I'm going for that walk." The bench was set back from the lake somewhat; nestling in some shrubbery. I took the few steps needed to gain the path that went round the little lake come pond, then I started to circumnavigate it. I took my time; I'd estimated it would take me a good ten minutes if I took it slowly. I was in no hurry to get back. Timothy had told me Liam might need time to process the revelation of his friend being gay. Therefore we'd hatched this plan of me telling Liam, and then taking myself off for a few minutes. If Liam couldn't accept what I was, he had the option of saving himself the embarrassment of telling me that he didn't feel the same way. I knew my ten minutes of walking were almost up, I'd slowed down my steps as much as I could to put off the awful moment of my return, but here was the final bit of tall shrubbery which separated me from my fate. I rounded the overgrown bush, and there was the bench. It was empty. Liam had obviously decided he couldn't face the prospect of having a gay friend who was in love with him. I held in my pain, it wasn't easy, but there was no way I was going to break down in public. I turned on my heel and fled with as much dignity as I could muster, cursing myself with every step that I should have kept my mouth shut, I walked down my street, saw the shiny new manhole cover which had marked the start of my undoing, then it was up the few steps, the key turned in the lock and I was safe. I ran into the front room and buried my face in the overstuffed cushions on the sofa. I whaled out my anguish, stupidity, and deep sense of sadness that my hoped for dreams of building a life together with a beautiful redheaded copper had come to naught. "Why Liam? It's not fair; it's just not fucking fair. I could have loved you, I'd have made you as happy as any man could ever wish to be. I would have adored you, cherished you and put you up on a pedestal and worshiped you." I ran the full gamut of emotions, from sadness to anger, from relief that at least he now knew, to resignation that I was still alone in the world. I switched on the radio, hoping to find some music that would allow me to escape and lose myself. My favourite classical station was playing an excerpt from Verdi's Requiem. That didn't suit my mood, so I retuned to the local all news station. "We are still unclear as to the precise details Mike." It sounded like an outside broadcaster speaking to the anchorman back in the studio. "Okay thanks Ron, please keep us informed. To reiterate for listeners who have just tuned in, there was a robbery at the Brimley branch of the Worcester and West Country Bank about half an hour ago. All we know at the moment is that two gunshots were fired, and the lone gunman made off in a black saloon car, an eye-witness believed the get away vehicle was a Saab, but he was unable to provide any further details. It is believed that two people one of whom was a uniformed Policeman were seriously injured. We don't have any further details at this time. In other news..." I didn't hear anymore. The building society was on the High Street, and the Injured Policeman could quite easily be Liam. "NOOOOOOO!" I yelled out. Despite the hot weather, I felt a horrible cold chill flow over me. I began to shake uncontrollably. I remained on that sofa for what seemed like hours. The radio was still on, but I didn't hear a word. I just sat there Praying to God, the Virgin Mary, Jesus Christ, the angels, to any heavenly power that would listen. "I don't care if he can't love me. Just please don't let it be Liam, please don't let it be Liam, Please don't let it be Liam." The words became a mantra. I must have drifted off into a trance like state. I heard the doorknocker give a few sharp wraps. I was tempted just to leave it, they'd soon go away when they realised that there was no one at home, however, I'd developed an in-built Pavlovian reaction to such things, and before I knew it, I had my hand on the Yale lock opening the door. "Ernest!" Liam threw himself through the open door and wrapped me up in his arms. I was too stunned to do anything. "Oh Ernest I'm sorry, I'm so desperately sorry. I had an urgent shout and I had to respond. There wasn't time to tell you I had to leave, but I got here as soon as I could honestly I did." He continued to hug me tightly to him. I was in a whirlwind of emotions. I thought I'd never see him again, I didn't even know if he was still alive. "Listen have you got any Whiskey in the house? I need a drink, it's been a horrible day." He said looking straight into my eyes. "It's only Scotch, not Irish." I replied. What a bloody stupid thing to say, but my mind wasn't exactly functioning properly. "That'll do fine." He let me out of his arms, and he followed me into the front room. I emptied three fingers worth of the amber liquid into a glass for him; I poured myself a similar measure too. He was sitting on the sofa when I'd turned round with the drinks. "Thanks," He downed about half the glass in one go. "I needed that." The radio was still chattering away. I reached over and turned it off from my position in the armchair opposite him. "So you've heard about the robbery then?" I nodded. "I didn't know the copper who got shot. He wasn't from my station." I wanted to tell him that I was relieved it hadn't been him, I wanted to ask him why he was here, what his reactions were to my earlier coming out performance and a thousand other things, but I just sat there silently nursing my drink. Liam took another swallow of his Whisky, then he set the glass down and he began to move his cap through his fingers. "Ernest there is something I need to tell you. I'd have done it by the lake earlier, but well you know." He said looking over at me. "For a long time now I've wondered if there was something wrong with me. I've always thought myself a bit different from the people around me. It's always been a bit strange, sometimes I thought I was being a snob, but it isn't that." His gaze seemed to drift off then. "When I was a lad back in Ireland, There was a girl who lived on the next door farm to us. Louise her name was. She was a good friend to me. Probably the only friend I had really. Well growing up on a farm you soon realise where babies come from. Sex wasn't something that was ever hidden away from us. So me being the natural curious lad that I was, me and Louise had sex." My heart sank again. I wasn't sure I could cope with this, but I was frozen in place, I just couldn't get my limbs to cooperate to get me out of there. "Well the Republic of Ireland being the Catholic country that it is, it's not easy to get hold of contraceptives. Louise thought it was her safe time, so we did the deed when her parents had gone into town with mine for the day. Well we only did it the once. Frankly it was nothing special. I'd remembered all the boys at school would boast about getting their ends away, but it did little for me. "It turned out that it wasn't Louise's 'safe time' and within a couple of months, she told me she was pregnant." Liam took another pull on his drink. "Well of course it isn't easy to hide such a thing, and you can't get an abortion out there, you have to come over to England for that. But Louise's family told mine that we'd have to get married. They began all the preparations, the church was booked, the invitations sent out and everything. It was all moving far too fast for me. I was only twenty at the time, and I didn't want to get married. So I told Louise I couldn't go ahead with it. It caused a right stink I can tell you. "Well the only way out for me as far as I could see was to leave town. I have an uncle who lives in Kent, so I travelled over the water and went to live with him. I knew I had to get out, I didn't love Louise, and I don't think I ever could. Uncle Frank got me a job with the Metropolitan Police, and for the past eleven years I've been a copper. I send money home to Louise, but I've never been back. I tried to bury myself in work, trying to hide who I am. "Well I'd made a pretty good job of it really. Until that day just over a month ago, when I was guarding a missing manhole cover, and a man came bowling along in his endearingly uncoordinated fashion, and turned my world upside down. Ernest what I'm telling you in this stupidly roundabout and hopelessly verbose way, and believe me I'm so sorry you've had to wait so long to hear it, but as far as I know, I'm gay and I'm totally in love with you too." >From the depths of despair to the heights of elation is quite some journey let me tell you. I just sat there doing a pretty good goldfish impression. "You mean, you mean, you like me too?" I eventually said. Liam patted the sofa cushion next to him, and I had my bum on that spot almost before he'd moved his hand away. "It's more than liking you Ernest. Ever since we first met, I've not been able to get you out of my head. There are probably several criminals who are still at large now because of my inattention. Now enough talking. Will you let me kiss you?" I just nodded, and his gorgeous face came closer to mine and our lips engaged. Now of course I'd been kissed by men before, but this, this experience was simply off the scale. Fireworks and choirs of angels swam through my head. Being the natural submissive that I am, I soon opened my mouth and his tongue came inside and had a pretty good feel round. My dick was the only part of my body that was hard; the rest of me was as limp as a week old lettuce. "I'm certain now." Liam said. "Huh?" I said in my befuddled and breathless state. Liam got off the sofa and knelt in front of me. "Ernest, my beautiful, sweet, vulnerable Ernest. I was always taught that being gay was one of the most despicable things imaginable. A sin against God, a freak of nature, an abomination. I didn't think I was any of those things, nor was I like the effeminate people you see on the TV. So I told myself I wasn't gay. But being with you, talking to you, and just now kissing you, it's the most wonderful thing in the world. And if enjoying those things makes me gay, then that's what I am." He then rose up and wrapped his oh so strong-arms around me and we sucked face some more. We must have spent a couple of hours sitting on that sofa, talking, crying and of course kissing. I realised that my world just hadn't been complete without a man in it. Then I thought about the last man who had gotten under my defences and I stiffened. "What is it sweetness?" Liam asked softly. "Liam you've told me about your past. Well it's only fair I should tell you about mine." I took a deep breath. "Well as I told you I had a job in the city. It's quite a high-pressure place, and as well as working hard, we tended to play hard too. I was at a party once given by a friend. More of a work acquaintance really. One of the people there was an American guy; he was over here on a student exchange programme. He was studying political science at The London School Of Economics. We got chatting, one thing lead to another and Bradley eventually moved in here with me. "Bradley was quite a dominant man really. Although maybe I prefer to be the bottom, I had absolutely no choice when it came to sex with him. Oh he owned me heart and soul and by God he knew it. Yes he told me that he loved me, but he'd never bring up the subject, he'd only ever tell me if I'd just told him that I loved him. " We were together for just under three years, whilst he was at the LSE. About a week after his finals ended, I came home armed with a load of food, I was going to cook him a nice meal to celebrate him getting through his exams. Waiting for me on the kitchen table was that Dear John letter I told you about." I began to cry then. "It's alright my precious one, you don't need to tell me." "I do Liam, I need to. Basically in the letter he thanked me for all the food. He thanked me for putting him up for the past few years. He never paid rent, and of course I didn't want him to. He ended the letter by saying that he didn't love me, he had someone in the States who he was going back to." "The bastard!" Liam said his muscles tensing up. "Yes believe me I've been far more inventive in my vocabulary than that. All this happened about eleven years ago. Probably about the time you were leaving Ireland I guess. Well since that time I've lived here alone, not trusting myself to get near anyone, just in case they hurt me. Because frankly he almost did for me. If it wasn't for my friends, I'd have thrown myself off Tower Bridge or something like that." Liam held me as I cried out my pain. "It's alright my precious one, no one will ever hurt you again. I'll make sure they don't." Epilogue Within a month of that eventful day, Liam agreed to move in with me. He said he'd wanted to move in that same night, but he wouldn't ever bring up the subject because he didn't want me to think of him as another Bradley. I told him in no uncertain terms that he was no Bradley. So he took an afternoon off work and we moved all his stuff. He didn't have a lot, though his set of weights took up a whole carload on its own. We went back to the section house one last time to do a final check, and for Liam to hand in his key and complete the paperwork. Then he drove my car to 'our' house. He pulled up at the curb but told me to stop where I was. I complied; he walked round the car, came over to the passenger side and opened the door for me. I stepped out onto the pavement and I mounted the few steps to the front door, opening it with my key. He held my arm, preventing me from entering. "Oh no you don't." His lovely soft but commanding Irish voice said. "I'm going to carry you over that threshold." So saying, he took me up in his strong arms. With a gentleness that belied his strength, he carried me into the house, closing the door behind us with his foot. THE END If you enjoyed this little tale, then please consider dropping me a line at drew.hunt@blueyonder.co.uk I'll then give you details of the other stories I have here on Nifty.