Posting

I'm aiming to post an episode of Majorca Flats every day or every second day.  We're moving towards the conclusion of this volume of the story--maybe another 50 episodes or so, and I haven't decided whether to keep going.  I've grown fond of Jason and Lou and Cody and Keith and Esmé, and of course of the sharp-witted Lucasta and Eleanor.  And of course no story really ends, does it?

On the other hand, I have several novels (6 in fact) which need revision and rewriting.  So the question is whether I should temporarily set aside Majorca Flats when it is finished and go back to work on my other novels.  I'm not sure yet,  Majorca Flats started out as a way to get past writer's block.  Surely, I thought to myself, I can do 100 or 200 words a day.  And it worked.

I write because I love writing, and because I get to know and care for the characters I've made.  But I feel that I have neglected the people in my older novels.

Anyway, I will finish book one of Majorca Flats over the course of the next few weeks, then I'll see how I feel.

569

Jason smiled at her and then, moving her almost to tears, put his head against her neck and kissed her, before enveloping her in a tight hug.  He moved over to her left, and lay down next to her, his arm over her torso.  She was lying face up, with both men facing towards her and each other.  Jason reached over and ruffled Keith’s hair.  His beam at his friend and Keith’s glowing response might have made her jealous, before. All she could think of, though, was how she had found two someones to love.  She didn’t know what would happen in the future, but she was ready to launch herself into the current, hoping, confident even, that it would take her to happiness.  

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568

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Keith bent down and kissed her.  Resting his body on his arms, he smiled at her, a smile of pleasure and companionship and love. 

She reached out and took Jason’s hand. 

“C’mon,” she whispered.

Jason had found the sight of Keith and Esmé making love intensely erotic.  Up till this point he hadn’t been sure which of the other two he was going to fuck.  And he was surprised to realise that it didn’t matter.  Right then, he was equally attracted to both of them. 

Keith rolled over to the other side of the bed.  Jason took his place, and, never taking his eyes off Esmé’s he slid into her and began to move in and out.  She was still trembling in the afterglow of her first orgasm, and Jason’s thrusts took her over the edge again, even before he had climaxed.  He stopped in mid-thrust looking down at her.

“Don’t … stop … don’t … just …” she gasped.

She understood that he had been gentle with her up till then, for he began to pump her, fast and deep.  He was bigger than Keith, and she was for a moment afraid that she would clamp tight, not because he was hurting her, but because just thinking about it might bring back the memories of her father.  But it didn’t hurt.  It felt just right.

She was building to another climax when he closed his eyes and flicked his head back and growled in pleasure.  His final slow push into her was enough, with his thickness inside her, to make her climax again.

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“Laugh at us, would you?” growled Keith and he bent down to her. In a moment, the thong was pulled back, and his tongue was inside the folds of her body.

Jason kissed her on the lips, his breathing fast, his eyes blazing.  She closed her eyes giving herself over to the sensations from her body, the shining flood of pleasure which filled her from head to toe.  Keith moved his mouth slowly up from her cunt to her breast.  Each moment’s delay from climax was unbearable.  Jason took Keith’s place at her pussy.  She was close to coming. 

“Wait!” she said.

Keith lifted his mouth from her breast, and Jason from her groin. 

“What?” asked Keith.

“I want you inside me,” she replied.

Keith smiled, a smile which flipped her heart over, and reached for the top drawer of bedside cabinet.  He took out two condoms, handed one to Jason and tore the other one open.   He slathered his cock with lube, and passed the bottle back to Jason, who was just behind him, his eyes rapt.

He inched into her, waiting for her to clamp tight, ready to withdraw if she did.  He could feel the velvet silkiness of her insides.  Jason turned Keith’s head to one side and kissed him intensely, then bent forward to kiss Esmé.  Knowing now that he wouldn’t hurt her, Keith began to drive into her.  Each thrust rubbed her already wet clitoris, jolting her into spasms of intense pleasure.  Still she hadn’t climaxed.  Keith’s eyes were closed, his head back, his mouth open in ecstasy, as he speeded up his hip movements. 

“I’m—ah—oh God!—it’s ….” And Esmé came, great shuddering jolts to her body, her mind empty of everything except the white flame of her pleasure.  Almost simultaneously, Keith gasped and arched his back as he came too.

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Keith’s face was unsmiling, but his eyes were alight.  He looked down at her, then bent down to kiss her nipple.  Jason ran his tongue down her shoulder to her other nipple.  Together, each men sucked on her nipples, and she felt the electric tangles reach down to her groin, to the tips of her legs.  Just when it seemed it would be too intense, Jason moved to her mouth, and kissed her.  This time he was passionate.  Urgent.  She felt his desire and in turn it kindled her own.  The tortured, pain-filled couplings her father had forced her to endure ebbed to a dim memory, like a film she’d once seen long ago.  Here—now—she was desired, by two different men, one with brown hair and eyes, the other blue-eyed and blond; one a street kid, the other a millionaire with a title.  Her father was just some distant evil goblin, vile and perverted and corrosive, like some chemical.  But far away.  She was safe.  Her heart and her body opened.

Keith, used to her jeans, undid the button and the zip and slid his hand inside to feel her pussy.  So warm, so firm, so kind.  He started to stroke her through her thong, sending ripples of pleasure through her body.  

The two men stopped and looked at each other.  They leaned over her and kissed, and then just looked deep into each other’s eyes.  Without a word, they moved down to the end of the bed and took off her trainers and her socks.  Jason lifted her carefully, his strong body doing it easily, and Keith pulled her jeans off.  On their knees, the two men turned and smiled at her with a palpable air of “aren’t we clever?”  She couldn’t help it: she giggled.

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The orange light from the sodium street lamps was shining into the room through the gap between the curtains.  Jason sat down on Keith’s bed, still holding Keith’s and Esmé’s hands.  He patted the bed next to himself.  Esmé sat down, and he put his arms round her.  Keith lowered himself to the bed and kissed her on her cheek.  Still they didn’t speak. 

Jason began to lift her T-shirt over her head.  As he lifted it, Keith kissed her on her tummy, each kiss making her shiver with need.  Jason pulled the T-shirt over her head, and then re-arranged her hair which had got mussed.  He kissed her on her lips, while Keith kissed her body, in a line up from waistband to her breasts.  Jason went on kissing her lips, his mouth warm and flavoured with Cointreau, and Keith moved round behind her, kissing her shoulders.  She could feel his hands, caressing her skin, and then undoing her bra straps.  Keith lifted the bra off her.  Obediently, she raised her hands so that he could.  Now it was Jason kissing her front.  His mouth brushed against her left breast, his tongue tracing out the shape of her nipple.  Keith moved round from her back and his mouth found her other nipple.

“Yes,” she breathed, and lay back on the sheets, with her arms spread.

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564

Jason lay on the edge of the bed in Keith’s flat.  Next to him, between him and Keith, Esmé snored with a cat-like purr. 

After finishing the bottle of champagne at the restaurant, Keith had invited them both back to his flat for a nightcap.  He’d poured them small glasses of Cointreau and offered them tea.  No point in coffee: he didn’t have an espresso machine.  Cafés made coffee so much better than he could. 

They talked a little, but the real conversation was unspoken.  Each of them could sense the electricity in the air, the joint attraction which drew them together and linked them with wires of desire.  They were reluctant to end this suspended, magical interlude, where so much was promised, where the future seemed potentially so full, and the now so exciting.

Jason had always felt a little uneasy with women.  He had been able to have sex with his girlfriends but it had never been simple, or fun.  But Esmé had been a friend first.  After what she had suffered at the hands of her father, he felt that she needed to be loved and cared for.  He admired her prettiness, the way her eyes shone, the sweet curve of her neck and her breasts, her curly brown hair.

He looked across at Keith, whose face was solemn, and their eyes met and locked.  Then he leaned over and kissed Esmé on her lips.

They didn’t speak.  Taking her hand and reaching out for Keith’s, Jason tugged them through to the bedroom.

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554

After Cody and Luigi had left them, Keith and Esmé and Jason had ordered another bottle of champagne and proceeded to get tipsy.

Jason looked at the other two and then kissed them each on the cheek, Esmé first and Keith afterwards, leaning across the table to reach him.  With a catch in his voice, he said, “Thank you for being you, you two.  I’m so glad I met you.”

“I’m glad you walked in through that door all those months ago.”  Keith was a little teary too, the news that Jason was going to stay combined with the champagne, making him emotional.  In his life he’d encountered so many arseholes, so many selfish, narcissistic, cruel people, men who’d hurt him during sex and had thought it their right to do so.  They’d paid for it, hadn’t they?  And here was Jason, a wealthy lord, the son of a fucking duke for Chrissake, who loved him for him.  For him.  Not because he was handsome, or rich, or sexy.  Just because.  He knew that Jason wasn’t in love with him, but that didn’t matter.  He was a true friend.  Somebody he knew he could rely on.  Somebody who wouldn’t judge him or betray him.

Esmé felt again how likable Jason was, and how fond she had become of him since she had met him that first day.  Some dam of sorrow broke in her, and she felt its waters flow out of her into the ether, leaving her feeling oddly drained but happy, not weighed down by the past, by her father’s rapes and her mother’s cowardice and fear.  She was she; she had friends, and they were here.  It didn’t matter that she was in love with Keith and that he didn’t feel the same love for her.  What mattered was that they were as fond of her as she was of them.

She took Jason’s hand in hers.  His hands were big and strong, with nice proportions and (she was glad to note) clean fingernails.  Keith wasn’t exactly grubby—well, just a bit—but his fingernails weren’t always pristine.  Jason started to stroke her hand with his, and she felt the connection between them spark a current which seemed to run straight from her heart to her fingers and back again.

“Have you got to work tonight?” he asked her, his finger tracing lines across her palm, again and again, in a rhythm which hypnotized her with a dreamy mixture of lust and affection. 

“Yes.  Well, I should.  I have essays due.  And stuff.”

He squeezed her hand then let it go.  “Pity.” His grin was like that of a naughty boy, caught out in some prank; his blue eyes mischievous, electric, and alive. 

She smiled at him.  Keith was watching this interaction, his brown eyes knowing but kindly and warm, a small smile tickling his lips.  He’d been through too much to judge, or mock.  He was willing to share.  She lay her head on Jason’s shoulder, and sighed, and he slipped his arm round her.  “Tous pour un, un pour tous,” he said.  “For ever.” 

“D’accord!” replied Esmé.

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545

“Yo.”  Keith answered Jason’s call at once, from which Jason deduced that things were quiet at The Lord Grey. 

“Yeah, sexy bum.”

“Too loite, too loite!  Oi’ve got religion.  Never darken moi doorstep again.  From naow on, I’m as chaste as the driven snaow.”

“Well, that’s a pity.  ‘Cos I was going to invite you to a meeting this evening at 5.30 at the Café Novio on Brunswick Street.”

“Ooh!  Romance!”  His voice took on the fruity cadences of an old-fashioned TV or film announcer.  “Two laonely gays mayt for the first time over coffee. One thing layds to another and before ya knaow it ….”

“I’m ending this call right now,” said Jason, choking back a laugh.  “5.30, at the Novio, OK?  I’ve got something important to tell you, you idiot.”

“What?”

“Goodbye, my sweet, light of my life, heart of my heart’s desiring.”

As Jason ended the called he could have sworn he heard Keith say “Demented” in a weary tone at the other end.  He grinned to himself.  He felt, all at once, ridiculously happy.

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543

As soon as breakfast was over, Jason rang Luigi. 

“Lou, hey, do you want to meet for coffee later?” 

“Lemme just check with Cody.  I’ll ring you back.  He’s at work now.  Let’s say at 5.30 at the Café Novio on Brunswick?”

“Yep.  I’ve got something to tell you.”

“Good? I hope.”

“Good and bad.  Maybe.”

“You’re going back to England?”  Luigi’s tone betrayed his dismay.

“Nah.  The opposite, actually.”

“So what is it?”

“Heh.  You’ll have to wait and see, gayboy.  Give you something to think about.  See you later, sexy.”

Luigi ended the call a little perplexed and worried.

He told Cody about the phone call when Cody got home.  “You’re a bit worried. What is it?” asked Cody.

“Jason wants to meet us.  He says he’s got something to tell us.”

“D’you think it’ll be something bad?”

“He says not, but, well … he’s a friend.  I’d miss him if he left.”

Cody felt the familiar twinges of jealousy and guilt.

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542

“And now to tell the others.”  Jason sighed.  “It’s going to be hard.  Like coming out.  Because I’ve been lying to them.”

“No you haven’t!” Eleanor was indignant.  “You don’t have to tell people everything about yourself!  You’re entitled to private things.  And if you set aside your money because you wanted it to not be significant in your life, then, why should you tell them about it?”

“Well, I did say, when I told them about Brent, that I was rich and that was part of what … so they do know that.  But the title … and all that family history, going back nine hundred years.  It’s … too much.”

“Well, I’ve always thought that business of assessing a family just by its male members was silly.  What about all the ordinary women who married into the family?  There must have been some.  I mean, when you go back far enough, all of us have hundreds of ancestors. You’ve probably got a few peasants in your ancestry! But don’t ignore the power of a title in Australia.  You will be newsworthy.  And some people will be hostile, just because you have a title.  You should be able to use it to get publicity, to persuade people to give your home money.  Anyway, I don’t think they’ll care.  It’s …” she coloured slightly and looked away, ‘it’s not as if they don’t know you, um, intimately.”

It was Jason’s turn to blush.  He cleared his throat.

Lucasta said, “Well, my dear, certainly I have some quite ordinary people in my family tree like the wife of my grandfather who was a dancer from Paris so useful to be able to dance I loved it with your grandfather and that was partly why I learned French you know which I love and I remember her quite well such a pretty elegant woman with a charming accent she used to call me darleeeng when I was little and tell me fairy tales in French but I think there were many who cut her and grandfather because of who she was so cruel and stupid really.  And here I am your grandmother and so proud of you my dear.”

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527

Jason smiled a little uncertainly at her, and asked, “Are you all right?”  His expression was kind and worried and, she would have sworn, entirely genuine and real.

She realised she had become introspective, and that perhaps her face had shown her thoughts.  “I was far away, there,” she replied.  “Sorry.”

“Oh well, that’s all right then.  I didn’t …. I don’t  … Keith is your friend too.”  His expression was sincere, real. 

“Friend?” she said wryly. 

“And more,” he said with a slow, warm grin which made his eyes shine with humour and liking.  All at once she was filled with affection for him.

She smiled back and for that moment it seemed as if there were just the two of them in the room.

My parents had a typical marriage, she thought, with a bitter burn in her heart.  Fat lot of use it did them.  Or me.  Maybe doing things differently would be better.  Maybe having Keith and Jason in her life was better than what her parents had.  She wondered whether her mother had loved her father when they first married, or whether it had just seemed the thing to do, to get married and ‘settled’.  He could be very charming.  Like so many psychopaths.

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526

That’s all very well, thought Esmé, but how can I trust you?  Both of you?  Either of you?

All right, Keith was bi.  And maybe if he hadn’t had to live on the streets he would never have found out about his gay side.  And maybe not.  Maybe he was always going to find out he was attracted to men.  She knew he loved her, well, for some meaning of ‘love’.  She was very mistrustful of the glittery shimmering artefact which everybody proclaimed as romantic love.  White wedding dresses and soppy romantic kissing and lurve. But at the same time, she needed it, desperately, because it somehow showed her that her own life was worth something, that she was worth something.  As Jason—he was lovely. He had a kind smile, and a beaut hunky muscular body, and his eyes were alive and interesting.  Does he love Keith? she thought.  Really and truly?  Will he just fuck off later when he’s sick of us all and leave us in the lurch?  Part of her rejoiced at this intriguing prospect, but then she squashed it mercilessly. Keith would be terribly hurt if Jason went away. Keith loved him. And though Jason loved Brent, he was obviously fond—very fond—of Keith. 

And yet, they were also friends.  Could you have friends if you were also having sex with them?  Keith had taught her how to make love without pain.  He was kind, like Jason was kind, and that was worth something.  Anyway, what did it matter?  She was in love with Keith and that was a simple fact and spending some time with him was far better than not having him in her life at all.  It was enough for now.  She must be glad and not greedy.  She was happier now than she’d been for years.

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525

“We can’t stay too long,” Keith said in a low voice to Jason.  “I really should get back to work.  You know haow it gets busy after ten.”

“I’m glad you came,” said Jason. “It’s always good to see you.”

“And I got to mait Endeavour Lambano!  My hero.”

“Who?  Me or him?”

Keith just grinned.

“What’re are you doing after?” asked Jason, hopefully.

“I’ll bay with Esmé.”  He shrugged apologetically.

“It’s all right,” Jason reassured him.  When Keith looked doubtful, he smiled, and added, “I envy you.”

“Whoi?”  Jason was puzzled.

“You’re settled.  In a way.  You have someone you love.”

“And you don’t?”  Keith looked a little hurt.  You have me, he thought.

“Brent was … and I screwed up.  I … don’t know if I can love like that again.  But, Key, you … you’re my friend and … well …. you’re sexy and you’re a good man, and …. I hope you will always …  C’here!”  He pulled Keith into his arms, suspecting that words were pushing them apart and that their bodies spoke more truly of their real feelings.

He looked over Keith’s shoulder and saw that Esmé was watching, her face schooled to blankness.  He took Keith’s hand and crossed the short distance to her side.  He took one of her hands in his free hand and nodded to Keith to take the other.

“Circle of friends,” he said.  “One for all and all for one.  Always.”

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522

Graeme wondered Esmé fitted in. Although Jason hadn’t mentioned it, it did rather look as if he were bisexual. In fact, there was a sexual charge between all three of them: Jason, Esmé and Keith. Jason and Keith were clearly lovers.  They had the body language. Comfortable in each other's space.   But Keith and Esmé were also obviously connected, too.  Graeme thought back to his own six years of marriage and wondered how these three would sort things out among themselves.  Some of the older people he mixed with were always saying that the young were stuffy and conservative, but these three seemed to be free spirits, unfazed by society’s strictures and diktats.

And the two old ladies!  What an amazing pair.  So placidly revolutionary.  What was it Dorothy Sayers said in one of her novels?    He grinned, remembering. 

“Why are you smiling?” asked Eleanor, unable to stop her own lips quirking up.

“Oh, I was thinking of what Dorothy Sayers said.  ‘You can tame an advanced young woman, but an advanced old woman is uncontrollable.’[1]  Something like that.  It’s from ‘Clouds of Witness” I think.”

“Oh, I think women often change over their life, you know.  Because when we are young we are constrained.  We must behave, don’t you know.  But as we get older, all those strictures and customs come to seem merely silly.  Sayers also said:

 ‘As I grow older and older,

 And totter toward the tomb,

 I find that I care less and less,

 Who goes to bed with whom.’”

Graeme laughed. 

“It’s easy to remember,” Eleanor said, smiling too, “because it rhymes.”

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---

[1]

 “Time and trouble will tame an advanced young woman, but an advanced old woman is uncontrollable by any earthly force.”

492

“Look, I don’t have to have sex with them.  But I do love them, Coads.  And the way I see it, they are my friends, and they’re sexy, and why not?  And they’re just so kind and generous.  And you know what, I think they’ll be your friends too.  They’re not a threat to you and me.  More of a support.   They won’t come between you and me.  They’ll support me any way they can.  They’re top blokes, Cody love.  The best around.”

“I thought … they seemed …. I dunno.  Withdrawn.  From me.  A little.”

“They’ve only just met you!  And they knew about me and you before.  I told them about us.”

Cody was silent.

“Cody, they won’t judge you.”

“Jason has already warned me not to break your heart again.”

Luigi didn’t know whether to furious or grateful for this evidence of his friends’ concern.  He felt tears prick his eyes.  Trying to keep his voice steady he said, “I think you need to get to know them.  And then you’ll understand.”

“All right,” Cody conceded the point.  After another couple of kilometres of their journey, he said, “Lou, just now I thought I was OK.  But it just … it all seems so hard.  I loved Phillippa.  And I love you.  And I … I’m not gay.  I … love you Lou.”

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