A Spot Of Bother

13

George spread a generous helping of steroid cream onto the eczema, changed into his building clothes, then went downstairs where he bumped into Jean returning laden from Sainsbury’s.

“How was the doctor?”

“Fine.”

“So…?” asked Jean.

George decided that it was simpler to lie. “Heat stroke, probably. Dehydration. Working out there in the sun without a hat. Not drinking enough water.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

“Indeed,” said George.

“I rang Jamie.”

“And?”

“Wasn’t in,” said Jean. “I left a message. Said we’d be sending him an invite. I told him he could bring someone if he wanted.”

“Excellent.”

Jean paused. “Are you all right, George?”

“I am, actually.” He kissed her and headed off to the garden.

He scraped the contents of the bucket into the miniskip, hosed it out, made some fresh mortar and began laying bricks. Another couple of courses and he could think about cementing the door frame into place.

He didn’t have a problem with homosexuality per se. Men having sex with men. One could imagine, if one was in the business of imagining such things, that there were situations where it might happen, situations in which chaps were denied the normal outlets. Military camps. Long sea voyages. One didn’t want to dwell on the plumbing but one could almost see it as a sporting activity. Letting off steam. High spirits. Handshake and a hot shower afterward.

It was the thought of men purchasing furniture together which disturbed him. Men snuggling. More disconcerting, somehow, than shenanigans in public toilets. It gave him the unpleasant feeling that there was a weakness in the very fabric of the world. Like seeing a man hit a woman in the street. Or suddenly not being able to remember the bedroom you had as a child.

Still, things changed. Mobile phones. Thai restaurants. You had to remain elastic or you turned into an angry fossil railing at litter. Besides, Jamie was a sensible young man and if he brought someone along he was bound to be another very sensible young man.

What Ray would make of it Lord only knew.

Interesting. That was what it would be.

He laid another brick.

“Unless I’m very much mistaken,” Dr. Barghoutian had said.

Just covering himself, no doubt.