AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You could come out?” he said tentatively, his eyes on George’s hand. He remembered the way George had frozen.
“I’m never gonna come out.”
“But—
“No, never. Look,” he placed his hand over Joq’s; his skin had still been smooth, his brown eyes wide, innocent, “I like you, I like this, but if you’re wanting that, I can’t … I’ll never do that.”
“What about when you retire?” Joq had asked the question expecting an affirmative answer. He’d already imagined it, expected it.
It’d felt so surprising at the time when George said, “Never,” so vehemently Joq had no idea how to reply.
“I really like you,” George went on, lacing their fingers together, “but I get it if this is not gonna be enough for you.”
Joq shook his head. “We’ll make it work.”
“Yeah?” and George had sounded so grateful, all Joq could say, with the certainty of a twenty-one-year-old, was: “Definitely.”
He often wondered if he negotiated being open shortly after because he wanted something of his own or he’d hoped to provoke George’s jealousy. Probably a bit of both, depending on the day.
He never met Alistair, was never invited to George’s home town, but George mentioned him casually, fondly, whenever he came back from visiting his parents—“Saw Tammy, she says Alistair’s good, got a good job in the states.”
“Cool,” Joq would reply—what else was there to say? Joq got the feeling these country town people gossiped about and protected their own in equal measure. That whole aspect of George’s life was closed to him.
He saw a photo once—a tawny eyed, tawny haired young guy in a flannelette shirt and work pants, work boots, George next to him in the same get-up. Both boys wore understated smiles as reluctant eyes met the camera, their reverie with a thermos of coffee and sandwiches on the floor of a shearing shed broken by the intrusion.
“Whose this?” Joq had asked when he came across it buried in George’s desk drawer.
George had looked over his shoulder. “Alistair,” his voice had been gruff yet warm. He’d busied himself with making space on the bookshelf for Joq in his home office but Joq remembered the feel of the guy in the room with them, like George’s memory was a private, fond thing and simply saying the guy’s name brought it to life. Joq looked at the photo and imagined them finishing up for the day, making excuses to go back to Alistair’s place, closing the bedroom door and exploring each other wordlessly, breathlessly, their inexperience made up for by a mutual, unspoken desire.
But the point for now was, while George had managed to stay firmly in the closet, and kept his relationship with Joq in there with him, it was out there. Floating around in the football world as idle gossip, mentioned and dismissed, but very much known to anyone with ears. Finn had ears. And Joq would bet his annual salary Finn had heard the rumour and was one of the few who hadn’t simply dismissed it.
7
The smell of a roast permeated the kitchen as Joq made a salad, heard George come in the front door.
“Hey,” George said around a smile as he entered the kitchen and came over to Joq, his hand going around his waist as he kissed his temple.
“Hey, dinner be ready in ten,” Joq replied.
“Nice,” George nodded at the salad before he turned, whacked the top of the door frame, went back down the hall and upstairs to get changed.
Joq had a plan. Invite the rookie over for dinner. Probably start calling him by his actual name rather than ‘the rookie’ or ‘the kid’ in his head all the time as well. He didn’t know why he was so fixated on that, but it wasn’t really important.
He needed to focus: if George and Finn were such good friends then George should tell Finn he was in a relationship with a man. Finn was clearly gay, it’d be good for him to know he wasn’t alone. And it wouldn’t be the first time—Jack Reaver—ex-team mate, friend, also gay—knew about them. He’d guessed, and Joq confirmed it, which had pissed George off no end, but Joq had argued, rightly he thought, “What’s the harm? He’s gay too.”
So, why not Finn? It made sense for Finn to meet Joq more formally, to be taken into the wider family so to speak. Finn was away from home, young, it made sense to offer him a broader support network. A ‘safe space’—Joq imagined a kid like Finn would be into safe spaces.
Joq had the outside table near the pool set when George came out again.
“This looks good,” George said as he took a seat.
Joq rolled his eyes. “It’s chicken and salad, babe. I make it all the time.”
“Still,” George smiled at him. “It’s what you do with it.”
Joq laughed at the joke. It was a line from a movie and they ran it whenever Joq cooked.
They settled into a comfortable silence and ate, enjoyed the breeze, the soft tunes wafting from Joq’s speaker. Joq waited until they were finished and he was sipping on a beer, George drinking his soda water, before he broached the subject.
