452

After, they talked of less fraught topics—the perfect autumn weather, the beauty of the scenery, the food and the wine.

On the way home, Lucasta dozed.  Eleanor drove.  She had been careful to have only two glasses of champagne over lunch, so that she was still safe to drive.

“I should get an Ozzie driving licence,” Jason observed.

“Do you have a UK licence?”

“Yes, but it’s not valid here.”

“Yes it is.  For a while, anyway, as far as I know.  Until it expires or until you change citizenship.”

“I didn’t know.  It’s valid for another five years, then.  That’s good news.  I thought I would have to take my driving test again.  All that palaver.”

“Well, you will, but not for the next few years.”

“I’ll be able to borrow Keith’s car.  He doesn’t use it that much because he lives near to the pub.”

“You could borrow this car.”

Jason turned to look at Eleanor.

“You’ve been very kind to me already,” he murmured.

“Nonsense.  It’s a pleasure having you.”

Jason knew she was lonely, and often oppressed by thoughts of Bart and his suicide.  She thinks of me as her son, he thought.  Why not?  She means more to me than my real mother.

He smiled at her.  “Well, when you’re not using it.  But public transport here is so good, like London, I don’t feel the lack of a car.  It’s just that one of these days, I’d like to go and see the countryside, drive up to Sydney.”

“You must take the route along the coast.  It’s quite lovely.  All those deserted beaches.”

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451

“He’s was such a dear lad.  So funny and clever and wise.  But he was, well, sensitive.  No, let me be truthful.  He was a little effeminate.  But such a joy to be with, so bright and lovely.  And then he started to lose his sparkle. At first, you know, I didn’t worry.  Teenagers can be so moody.  It’s such a difficult and awkward time.  But it got worse.  I guessed he was being bullied at school.  I asked him about it but I … I didn’t think I should intervene.  I thought he should be toughened up.  Which is another way of saying, “made more manly”.  May God forgive me!”  She stopped and stared out over the peaceful vineyards.  Very quietly, she said,  “ One day he hanged himself.”

“My dear!” said Lucasta softly and put her hand on the other woman’s. 

Jason watched the two old ladies in silence, wanting, as he had the first time he’d heard the story, to weep, to howl at the universe, to strike and thump the haters.

The waiter arrived with more champagne, and topped up their glasses.

There was a long silence.  At last, Jason said, “Well you both know about me and Brent.”  “My own selfish stupidity!”

Jason didn’t expect either woman to disagree with him.  His grandmother wasn’t the kind of woman not to face facts, and nor was Eleanor.  For all their kindness and compassion there was a bleak resolution at the heart of their characters, the kind of character strength that comes from loss faced with courage. 

His grandmother said, “We all make mistakes, Jason my dear, mistakes which we wish with all our hearts we could undo.”

He smiled at her.  “I don’t believe you ever made a mistake in your life, grandam!”

She just smiled at him.

“Come!” she said.  “Let us toast something and be happy.  To friends and family!”

They raised their glasses and echoed her toast.  The champagne was pale gold in the flutes, and caught the afternoon sun which slanted through the French doors nearby.

 “You are both, to me,” said Jason, looking in turn at the two women.  Very moved, they both raised their glasses to him, but didn’t speak.

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449

“Yes, I feel that about Bolt, too.”

“I’ll look after him, Eleanor.  You don’t have to worry.”

Eleanor gave him a sad smile.  She had been put into a melancholy mood by the memories which crowded into her head. 

“Well, one day you’ll go back to England,” she said.

“No.  Not to live.  To visit grandam and my sister.  Yes.  But … no.  I want to stay here.  People here … people have made me welcome.  I’ve made some true friends.  Eleanor, I feel at home here.  As if I have a new family.  Who love me for what I am, or anyway, despite what I am, without judging.  You, and Key and Lou and Esmé.  Australians have been so welcoming and kind.”  He looked at his grandmother.  “You know what mum’s like, grandam.”

“So fussed about status and who you know and who you are but in the end what matters is who loves you and who is your friend your real friend.  I loved your grandfather very much but that was more because we were thrown together and I loved him though he could be tiresome but the basis was always love though it helped that we were from the same circles but with you and Brent I could see how much you loved it other and I just wish …”

Jason couldn’t speak.  He smiled at her, his eyes wet.

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447

On the way back to the car, Eleanor was looking pensive and a little sad. Jason slipped his arm through hers.

“You all right?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s an old pain, my dear, but it never goes away.  The last time I came here was with Bart.  Not long before …. he died.  And what your grandmother said made me think about how we keep on trying to force people to conform.  At such cost.”

“Yes,” he said.  “I’m sorry.  We shouldn’t have come.”

“Oh no, not at all.  Bart would have been glad we came.  I often wonder whether he would have got on with you.  I would have liked that.”

Jason remembered Bart’s diary, which, with all the dramas of the last few days, he had not read recently.  He resolved to read some more when they got home later.  It had been painful reading about Bart’s horrible life at school. About his loneliness, about the relentless mockery and bullying, knowing all the time what was going to happen.  But he owed it to Eleanor to read on, onto the end.  He owed it to himself too, because it was his own arrogance which had led him to desert Brent just when he was needed most.  And he would never be able to undo that.  What he had to do is try harder to be more genuinely compassionate and to care about his friends instead of seeing everything through a self-centred prism.  And Eleanor was his friend.

“Yes, it would.”  Impulsively he put his other arm round her and hugged her.

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402

“Grandam, how are you feeling today?”

“Much better, thank you, Jason.  Not nearly so tired and worn.”

“What would you like to do?”

“Well, I don’t know.  Do you have to work, today?”

“I work in the afternoon and at night, at the bar.  But I’ve taken today off.   I’ll have to work tomorrow, though.”

“Work is good for you … but surely you could contact …”

“… No.  It was the money that … with Brent.  I … if …”  He gulped.  His eyes were shiny with tears.

“It wasn’t just the money my darling boy, you know that, so much more, but people like us have a duty you know to make a difference …”

“…like mum does?”

“Oh your mother …”  Most unusually, Lucasta could think of nothing to say.  I don’t want to turn him against her but truly she is so silly and she puts her children against her without trying and makes such a fuss about unimportant things really I wish I could think of something to say to him poor dear boy so much pain and no way to undo the damage.

In the end, she kissed him on his cheek, and said, “Whatever you want to do, my dear boy.  I am at your disposal.”

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Majorca Flats -- 293

“In a way. Yeah. But more like a friend. Not like you."

“I fucked up, didn't I?"

“Maybe. I … Coads …. I'm sorry."

“For what?"

“For everything."

Cody waited. The countryside flashed by the speeding car. It was a perfect autumn day.

“It was … with you … it was just …." Luigi struggled to explain.

“Yeah?"

“Look, I've been hurt before by straight guys or bi guys. They say they love me and they act like they do and then suddenly you don't hear from them and you don't see them and there they are with their girlfriends. Wives."

There was a silence, with just the thrum of the car's wheels on the tarmac.

“So … when I saw you with … your wife … it reminded me of … well, other times when I was shafted by straight guys."

“I'm not straight, Lou. Not really."

“You looked it! With your wife!" Luigi relied sharply.

“Yeah. Well. I'm really sorry. I never meant to hurt you."

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