turned-down smile that said that he usually indulged him but tonight might side with the others. “I’m an angel when I’m drunk,” said Justin.
It was the end of a long rich dinner, Danny clearing the dishes in the rational way of a trained waiter, leaving Justin with his spoiled helping of now cold pudding, which he eyed with baffled alarm, like an emblem of a life he couldn’t recall ordering. “You can take my spotted dick, darling,” he said; at which Alex alone laughed, out of a remembered habit.
“Anyone for coffee?” said Robin loudly. “Or homegrown borage tea…?”
“Come and sit on my knee,” said Justin, pawing vaguely at Danny’s passing leg.
“I’m a bit busy at the moment, Justin. Doing the clearing up.”
Justin mulled this over for a moment. “Well it’s awfully good of you to do that,” he said.
Alex reached across to top up people’s water-glasses. “Have you got Justin to do any housework or things like that yet?” he asked Robin.
“Oh no,” said Robin hastily. “I sometimes wonder if he’d like to. He watches
me
doing housework with what seems to be genuine interest, but I think without any real confidence that he could ever learn to do it himself.”
Justin smiled past them forgivingly. He didn’t know at the time why he had invited Alex down, except out of restlessness and a loose desire for trouble. But it was satisfactory to bring the two main men in his life together, and watch them politely squaring up and backing off, Alex with his Scottish dryness and hot hurt feelings, Robin with his well-bred charm and hints of sexual ruthlessness. He liked the power he had in knowing these two men as he did, the faces under their faces that were only visible in the light of their desire for him. There was a surplus of power, with its delicious tendency to corrupt. He looked at Danny, stooping to stack the dishwasher, the loose singlet hanging off his lean young shoulders. “Hey-ho,” he said, lifting up his glass. “Country life.” “Country life,” said Robin, taking it defiantly as a toast; while Alex looked on with the old anxiety at Justin’s menacing changes of tack and private ironies.
“There’s the most marvellous pig in the village,” Justin said to him. “I must take you to see it. It’s probably the most interesting thing
in
the village. It’s an enormous great big pig.”
“Really.”
“Of course. You’ve seen it, haven’t you, Danny?”
“I’m too busy for that sort of thing” remained Danny’s line, and Justin saw him glow when it drew a mild laugh. Well of course the other two were going to look after the boy.
“We could go and see it now, but it’s probably got its pyjamas on,” Justin said, as if dealing with a very young person indeed.
“Let’s just stay here,” said Robin quietly.
But Justin got up anyway, and wandered out through the open back door to have a pee under the remote supervision of the stars.
It was a night blacker and more brilliant than any you ever got in London, even up on the Heath; and there there were warmer, moving shadows. Justin shivered, in the faint chill of nearly midnight. He longed for crowds and the purposeful confusion of the city; he wanted shops where you could get what you wanted, and deafening bars so full of men seeking pleasure and oblivion that you could hardly move through them. It was deadly still here, apart from the dark chattering of the stream. A bat or something flickered overhead. He thought there were the great high times, the moments of initiation, new men, new excitements; and then there was all the rest. He turned back towards the lighted door. Only candlelight, but a subtle glare across grass and path. He thought resentfully of how this wasn’t his house; it had been patched and roofed and furnished to please or tame another partner.
His new thing of fancying Danny was rather the revelation of this evening, and he had let his imagination run all over him while his two
It was the end of a long rich dinner, Danny clearing the dishes in the rational way of a trained waiter, leaving Justin with his spoiled helping of now cold pudding, which he eyed with baffled alarm, like an emblem of a life he couldn’t recall ordering. “You can take my spotted dick, darling,” he said; at which Alex alone laughed, out of a remembered habit.
“Anyone for coffee?” said Robin loudly. “Or homegrown borage tea…?”
“Come and sit on my knee,” said Justin, pawing vaguely at Danny’s passing leg.
“I’m a bit busy at the moment, Justin. Doing the clearing up.”
Justin mulled this over for a moment. “Well it’s awfully good of you to do that,” he said.
Alex reached across to top up people’s water-glasses. “Have you got Justin to do any housework or things like that yet?” he asked Robin.
“Oh no,” said Robin hastily. “I sometimes wonder if he’d like to. He watches
me
doing housework with what seems to be genuine interest, but I think without any real confidence that he could ever learn to do it himself.”
Justin smiled past them forgivingly. He didn’t know at the time why he had invited Alex down, except out of restlessness and a loose desire for trouble. But it was satisfactory to bring the two main men in his life together, and watch them politely squaring up and backing off, Alex with his Scottish dryness and hot hurt feelings, Robin with his well-bred charm and hints of sexual ruthlessness. He liked the power he had in knowing these two men as he did, the faces under their faces that were only visible in the light of their desire for him. There was a surplus of power, with its delicious tendency to corrupt. He looked at Danny, stooping to stack the dishwasher, the loose singlet hanging off his lean young shoulders. “Hey-ho,” he said, lifting up his glass. “Country life.” “Country life,” said Robin, taking it defiantly as a toast; while Alex looked on with the old anxiety at Justin’s menacing changes of tack and private ironies.
“There’s the most marvellous pig in the village,” Justin said to him. “I must take you to see it. It’s probably the most interesting thing
in
the village. It’s an enormous great big pig.”
“Really.”
“Of course. You’ve seen it, haven’t you, Danny?”
“I’m too busy for that sort of thing” remained Danny’s line, and Justin saw him glow when it drew a mild laugh. Well of course the other two were going to look after the boy.
“We could go and see it now, but it’s probably got its pyjamas on,” Justin said, as if dealing with a very young person indeed.
“Let’s just stay here,” said Robin quietly.
But Justin got up anyway, and wandered out through the open back door to have a pee under the remote supervision of the stars.
It was a night blacker and more brilliant than any you ever got in London, even up on the Heath; and there there were warmer, moving shadows. Justin shivered, in the faint chill of nearly midnight. He longed for crowds and the purposeful confusion of the city; he wanted shops where you could get what you wanted, and deafening bars so full of men seeking pleasure and oblivion that you could hardly move through them. It was deadly still here, apart from the dark chattering of the stream. A bat or something flickered overhead. He thought there were the great high times, the moments of initiation, new men, new excitements; and then there was all the rest. He turned back towards the lighted door. Only candlelight, but a subtle glare across grass and path. He thought resentfully of how this wasn’t his house; it had been patched and roofed and furnished to please or tame another partner.
His new thing of fancying Danny was rather the revelation of this evening, and he had let his imagination run all over him while his two
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