Date: Sat, 13 Aug 2005 00:00:19 +0000 From: Zack McNaught Subject: Tay part 3 The news came at about midday, I suppose. We were in English, I remember that much, and it was just before lunch, too, so I guess midday would be about right. The headmistress came into the room, a grave look on her face, and spoke very quietly to our teacher, whose features soon dropped to mirror those of the head. Very quietly, the headmistress walked over to Tay and asked him to leave the room with her so that she could talk to him in private. I didn't see him again that day, and as soon as I got off the bus I ran as hard as I could for his house. I knew something was wrong as soon as I entered their road. People were gathered all around, being nosey in a way that only the English can, and when Tay's house came into view around the corner, there were two police cars and another one, all black, unmarked but obviously associated with the others. A policeman was standing outside the front door, and as I approached, two more officers came out carrying clear bin liners full of paper. When I first saw the police cars, my mind leapt to the worst possible conclusion -- murder. But upon closer inspection, it wasn't quite right for that. I'd seen plenty of reports about murders on TV and they always had some sort of forensic team around in silly overalls, and there was nothing of the sort there. I was maybe twenty metres from the house when a policeman stopped me. `Sorry, son, you can't go any closer.' I started to protest that I needed to get in there to see Tay, but I didn't have the chance to finish the sentence, because he came flying out of the side of the house and crashed into me, grabbing me in a hug that threatened to crush my ribs. `I'm so glad you're here. I'm so glad. It's all gone wrong,' he said, before burying his head into my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around him and held him tight, while the policeman just walked away shaking his head. It took me half an hour to get anything sensible out of Tay, and when I finally discovered what had happened I was in for a bit of a shock. In short, his dad was to be deported to America to face an absolutely massive fraud trial. Apparently they had all the evidence they would ever need, and his dad was going to have to plead guilty just to avoid spending his whole life in prison. The rest of the family was in limbo. Because the house was in his mother's name (which I discovered later was a precaution for this very outcome), she could retain it, and most of their stuff. But she had no job, and their visas would run out. That meant going back to America, where they would have nothing. The last bit was the real shock for me. For the first time in my life, I risked losing what was most important to me in the world. I was numb for the next few days. I had to keep going to school, but Tay wasn't there with me. I saw him maybe once in the evening, but there was so much going on that there was little time for me in his life. His dad was fighting the extradition, but his appeal ,which was fast-tracked because the American authorities wanted him on trial as soon as possible, failed a week later. Tay came to me then, in tears again, inconsolable. His father was leaving on a plane the next day, and he had just five minutes to say goodbye before losing him for years to come. He stayed with me that night, and the one after, my parents accepting of the fact that he needed comforting. He didn't want to go back to his mother, for fear of hearing more bad news, and just let her know where he was. During the day, he would stay at home, and one the second day I bunked off school to be with him, prepared to face the consequences later on. Strangely, when I went back to school, there were no repercussions. The head asked me into her office for a while, and I was convinced I was about to get into serious trouble, but she just wanted to know how I was feeling, and how Tay was. I found out from a friend later that he had confessed my deepest secret to the headmistress, who, despite coming across as a very stuffy old woman, was actually remarkably forward thinking about the nature of our relationship. I was offered support, and nothing else. No punishment, no rebuke, just a gentle reminder that I couldn't allow my schoolwork to suffer through all of this. Days passed, became weeks, became a month. Tay was still depressed, still unable to concentrate at school, so he didn't go until the summer holidays hit us. I was acutely aware that things were about to get worse though, as I spoke to his mother one day, who informed me that their visas would be up at the end of August. It was the fourth when she told me, giving them just under four weeks left before they would have to leave the country. I couldn't bear to lose Tay. I needed so desperately to make him better, and if he went back to America, that would never happen. The thinnest of rays of hope was on the horizon, though, the smallest chance that they wouldn't have to leave. Tay's mother didn't want to uproot her children, and had tried, unsuccessfully, to get a job and keep them in the country. She would be able to make a certain amount of capital from the sale of their home, but that money wouldn't last for ever, and the government knew it. They were given one last chance, the one chance that everyone in the UK gets -- the opportunity to go to arbitration. They would have to go in front of a magistrate to plead their case, though with three dependents and no sign of income, their chances were fairly slim. Tay grew increasingly anxious as the day of the hearing approached. He stayed at my house the night before, and I held him as he cried himself to sleep, soaking the shoulder of my t-shirt with his tears. When he left in the morning with his mother, his face was one of utter dejection. He was sure of the result before they'd even attended the hearing, and my father had privately expressed his own opinions about their chances of staying in the country, which he assessed as pretty poor. When I got back to my room, I lay face down on my bed and burst into tears. My father must have heard me, though I'd tried to be as quiet as possible. He was off work that week, having taken a little time off to work around the house. A recent promotion meant that he didn't have to travel so much any more. It would have been something really worth celebrating if I had felt like celebrating during those few weeks. The upshot was that he had more money, more time for me, and more time off. We weren't exactly going to be rich now, but suddenly things were a lot more comfortable. Anyway, he must have heard me sobbing into my pillow because without me realising it, he crept into my room. The first I knew of him being there was the big hand that rested on my shoulder, followed by the rock of the bed as he sat down next to me. `He's a good friend, isn't he?' I rolled over onto my side and looked up at my dad through tear-clouded eyes. I nodded slowly, wiping the tears from my eyes as best I could. I must have looked a complete mess. `Perhaps more than a friend, though, right?' My heart leapt into my mouth. "Busted!", as Tay would have put it. I tried valiantly to deny it, but my dad hushed me and grabbed me into a hug, crushing me against him. He'd never been a physical kind of guy, but he overcame his own inhibitions to comfort me then, to try to heal my hurts. `Do you have any smart clothes clean?' he asked after a few minutes. I couldn't work out why I would need them, but I didn't get the chance to ask. As soon as I had nodded my head my dad leapt into action. `Get into them, and get your school shoes on. I'll see you downstairs.' With that he all but ran out of the room and into his room. I could hear him rifling through his suits in his wardrobe, and wondered what on earth he could be up to. When he joined me downstairs a few minutes later, he was smarter than I'd ever seen him. I'd seen him going off to work sometimes, occasionally wearing a full suit, but never this well dressed. He looked amazing, like a proper businessman, and grinned when he saw the look on my face. `Still got it then,' he said, half to himself. I didn't realise what I was thinking at the time, but in retrospect part of my gay little brain must have thought that he was incredibly good-looking. He walked out to the car, leaving me to lock up the house, still not saying where we were going. It was only when we were on the dual carriageway heading into town that he finally revealed what he was planning. `The reason that Tay's family can't stay here is that the government is worried they won't be able to support themselves, so they don't think they should be here. They need some sort of promise that his family won't just start asking for benefit when they don't even come from here, and could get by in their own country. But if someone gives them that promise, and can prove it, they might be allowed to stay.' `So?' I said. I still didn't have a clue what he was planning, which, in retrospect, was bloody stupid of me. `So, I'll go in there and tell them that I'll support them if Tay's mum can't get a job.' I was stunned. `But why would you do that?' `Because,' replied my dad, somewhat exasperated with my stupidity by this point, `you love him, don't you?' The guard on the door of the court didn't want to let us in. The hearing was in progress by the time we got there, and apparently it was too late to go in. My dad told me to go and wait near the entrance to the courtroom, and started talking to the guard in a very low voice. I don't know what he said, and he would never tell me, but a couple of minutes later we were inside. Tay looked round when we came in, even though I thought we had been all but silent. He was the only one who noticed us coming in. His eyes were dull and lifeless, and red from crying. He hardly recognised me, but when he did was able to give me a weak smile, before turning back to face the front. The magistrate was just summing up when we got there -- it seemed the hearing had been rather perfunctory. `In this light of your lack of financial support for your children, Mrs MacIntyre (CHECK THIS), and the likelihood that you would have to claim state benefit should you remain in this country, I can see no way that I can possibly extend your visa. You have demonstrated to me that despite having to endure hardship when you return to your home country, you will not suffer to any greater extent than you would in this country, and so unless you can provide a guarantor at this late time in the proceedings, I expect you to leave the country as scheduled by the end of the week.' Tay's mother was resigned by this point. Her last hope was gone, and her head dropped forwards, and I could hear her sobbing. I was about to urge my dad to stand up when I felt him moving next to me. He looked so tall standing above me, with his shoulders back and eyes forward. `Excuse me, your honour.' The magistrate, who had been writing notes with his head down, avoiding the scene in front of him, looked up at the sound of my dad's voice. `Yes?' `My name is Paul Milton. I'm a friend of the MacIntyre family. I will guarantee them.' I wish I had a camera to capture the looks on the faces in front of us. The expressions were priceless. `Please approach the bench, Mr Milton. And you, too, Mrs MacIntyre. This is most unusual.' As my dad approached the bench, Tay ran back down the court and grabbed me into a hug. I wanted to kiss him very hard there and then, but more pressing was the need to see what was going on at the front of the court. All we could hear were murmurs. Occasionally one or other of my dad or Tay's mum would nod their head. By the time they were done, the judge was smiling slightly, and seemed almost as though there were a tear in the corner of his eye. Tay's mum waited at the front of the court, supporting herself on the railing on front of the benches, and my dad came back to get Tay and I. `Come on, you two, you'd better get up front with us.' `Did you make it so we can stay?' asked Tay. My dad nodded and smiled, and was rewarded by a huge, strong hug that knocked the wind out of him. I hugged him too, squeezing extra hard to let him know how much I loved him, and then we both ran off to hug Tay's mum, and his little brother and sister, who were sitting there confused by the whole ordeal. The judge banged his gavel, and we all jumped slightly. `Order, please. In light of this rather late statement of guarantee, I will grant you permission to stay in the country until your youngest child has left school, Mrs MacIntyre, though the court will expect evidence of income as soon as you can possibly manage it. I will set visa review for one year's time. Good luck, Mrs MacIntyre.' Tay's mum was crying now, and I could even see a little moisture in the corner of my dad's eyes as she hugged him and thanked him over and over again. Tay and I were different. For us, it was release, a finality, a realisation that we could overcome. Slowly, deliberately, fully aware of our surroundings and not caring who saw, we leaned into each other and kissed passionately. I know several people gasped, I heard them, but right then I didn't care. All that bothered me was that Tay was staying with me, that he would stay with me for the rest of my life. The End