Stuart Turnball
The Queen’s Head pub was located in central London. In the semi darkness of a single street light, its facade had the appearance of a deformed face. The two large windows, curtained in condensation, became glazed eyes, the door between them a slender nose. As I approached I felt repelled by an invisible force, like two magnets pushing against each other. Each step forward strengthened the repulsion, slowing my pace. I struggled to keep going. The sweat collecting on my forehead intensified the chill in the autumn wind. I tried to convince myself that this was just a pub. Nothing terrible would happen if I went inside. I could leave at any time. But I recognised the lie hidden in that truth.
I stood at the door, knowing I needed to go inside but dreading what would happen.
“Do you mind if I get past?”
I was startled by the sound of a deep voice from behind. I turned to see a man in his early twenties. He was shivering, wearing low waist jeans and a black tee-shirt which strained against his defined chest. His smile was framed by brown stubble that matched his close-cropped hair. I moved to one side to let him pass.
"It's a lot warmer inside," he said, holding the door open for me.
I felt compelled to enter. It was embarrassment rather than courage that carried me into the pub. My legs were unsteady but I managed the few steps into the room and was glad of the warmth that embraced me. The interior was unremarkable. Bland cream walls covered in mirrors and film posters. A few wooden tables with the varnish scraped away at the edges. The seating was dark red padded upholstery spotted with beer stains.
There were two barmen serving, both wore tight blue jeans and red tee-shirts with the pub’s name picked out in white across their chests. A crowd of young men caught my attention as they laughed in unison. Other smaller groups were engaged in animated discussion and the noise filled the room above the background music. There were a few men standing against the back wall, seemingly alone as they surveyed the room over the tops of their drinks. As they caught someone’s eye they would smile, but as the object of their interest turned away, it was quickly erased.
I went to the bar and ordered a pint of lager.
"How old are you?"
"Nineteen." I replied.
“Do you have ID?”
I repeated my age in the vain hope that saying it twice would convince him. Then I heard the same deep voice that had ushered me into the pub.
"It's OK, Mark, I can vouch for him." The barman stared at me for a few seconds before pulling me a pint.
Drink in hand; I walked over to the corner table where my guarantor now sat. I was trembling slightly and I spilt a little beer on the back of my hand which I quickly mopped up with my tongue.
“Thanks for helping me out,” I said.
“That’s OK,” he replied, “I wasn’t about to let the best looking guy in the place get thrown out.” Blood rushed to my checks and my resolve faltered, I needed to leave. I started to turn away but his voice pulled me back.
“Is this your first time in a gay bar?”
I stared at him, not sure what to say, but he didn’t wait for a response.
“You’ll feel better if you sit down.” He smiled as he spoke. “I’m Rob, by the way.” He extended his hand which I shook.
“Stuart.”
“Nice to meet you, Stuart.”
“Yeah, and you.”
I sat opposite Rob. My muscles tensed and I took a couple of gulps of beer in quick succession. I looked around the pub, anywhere but at Rob.
“So, how did you hear about this place?” he asked.
“Internet. This was the closest one to the grounds.” I answered, turning my head to face him.
“The grounds?”
“Yeah, I went to the Arsenal-Chelsea match with a couple of mates, but shook them off in the crowds so I could come here. They don’t know I’m ...., nobody does.” I looked down at my drink to avoid Rob’s eyes.
“Well, I know now, and you haven’t been struck by lightning or anything.” He flashed what I am sure was meant to be a reassuring smile.
“Yeah, but I’m from a small village in Essex. Trust me, my life would be hell if it got out. That’s one of the reasons I hang out with Paul and Luke.”
“Are they the friends you went to the football with?”
“Yeah. They’ve got a bit of a reputation, keeps me above suspicion.” I knew how this sounded; what kind of a coward was I?
“Won’t they be wondering where you are?” He actually sounded worried for me.
“Yeah. They’ll want to find me, I’m driving them home.” He was looking straight at me and my stomach fluttered. I cast my eyes down. “My phone’s off, but there’s only so long I can pretend I couldn’t get a signal. I can’t stay long.”
Rob laughed at my story, but not at me. My face relaxed into a gentle smile and the tension drained out of my body. I was surprised at the ease with which the conversation was flowing.
“What about you? How come you’re here alone?” I asked.
“I’m meeting a friend here, Chris, he’s always late though. We’re going on to a club, I was hoping you might want to come along.”
I hesitated. “Thanks, but I can’t just abandon my friends. Another time, maybe”
“Are you asking me out on a date?”
“Errr, no, I just meant, well you know. I didn’t... I wasn’t...”
Rob laughed. “No need to get embarrassed, I’d be flattered if you asked me out.” He looked me up and down, “you’re just my type.”
“Your type? What’s that, then? Lanky, spotty teenagers?”
He leaned in closer until I could smell the beer on his breath. “Tall, blond, athletic, clean-cut, beautiful blue eyes and the cutest smile.”
He leaned in closer still and the warmth of his moist lips on mine sent shivers down my spine. Gently at first and then he cupped the back of my head, pulled me closer and kissed more firmly and urgently, parting my lips with his tongue. I pulled away.
“You don’t mess about.” My heart was pounding in my ears, drowning out the sounds in the pub, and a thin veneer of sweat formed across my palms like a transparent glove.
“Sorry,” he said, “I couldn’t resist. I really am pleased that I met you tonight.”
I was about to respond, but was interrupted by his phone ringing. He looked at the screen.
“It’s Chris, I better take this call.”
I tried to make sense of how I felt: excited, happy, scared, and heard none of Rob’s conversation. I had fantasised about this for years but fear had always held me back. Rob’s voice brought me out of my reverie.
“I’m sorry, I have to go. Chris is in hospital.”
He sounded worried. I wasn’t sure how to react. The intimacy we’d just shared required more than a polite response, but all I could come up with was, “nothing serious I hope?”
“He’s had an accident. Hit by a car. He sounds in a bad way. I have to go now.”
He started to leave and I started to panic. If I let him go now I wouldn't build up the courage to talk to anyone like this again. I caught up with him by the door.
“I’m parked just around the corner.” Rob smiled and sent shards of heat tearing through my body. “You’ll have to navigate,” I said, “I don’t know my way around London that well.”
I tightened my coat around me. Rob shivered, goose bumps formed on his bare arms.
“I hope it’s not too far,” he said, striding ahead of me.
I pointed to a building a few hundred yards ahead of us, “It’s left at the pub and then a few yards on the right.”
Rob reached the pub before me and stood at the corner while I caught up.
“It’s the blue polo just there,” I said unlocking the doors as I pointed. Rob raced ahead and sat in the passenger seat. I opened the driver’s door.
“Beefy.” I turned to see Luke rushing towards me with Paul lumbering behind.
A metallic taste formed at the back of my throat. How was I going to explain away Rob to Paul and Luke? My hand trembled against the cold metal of the door handle. I could feel my legs giving way underneath me. I tried to focus my mind on an explanation but it insisted on telling me to run.
And then it was too late. Luke was standing right in front of me, a goofy smile on his face. “Man, am I glad to see you. I thought we might have to train it home.”
“It’d serve you right if you did, running off after the match,” I said.
“We didn’t run,” Luke started, only to be interrupted by Paul who waded in with, “where the fuck have you been?”
“Sorry, mate, I lost you guys in the crowd coming out of the gates.” This much of my story I had rehearsed and my nerves calmed a little as I fell back on my prepared script. “I tried to call but couldn’t get a signal. I was just about to try again.”
“No worries,” said Luke, “it gave us time for a couple of pints.”
“And chat up a couple of birds,” Paul added, a big grin on his face, “another ten minutes and we’d have had their numbers.”
“Yeah, you should have stuck your head in the door, man. They were hot. And anyway, if I hadn’t seen you go past we’d have missed each other,” said Luke.
I kicked myself. I should have known they’d go to the nearest pub to the car. With heartfelt sincerity I replied, “I didn’t think.”
“Stuart, I really need to get to the hospital,” Rob called.
Luke and Paul peered into the car.
“Who the fuck’s that?” Paul asked.
“Get in the car. I’ll explain on the way,” I said, buying a few moments for inspiration to strike. There was nothing I could do but hope that Rob would play along with whatever story I came up with.
As we pulled away, Luke saw to the introductions.
“So, what the fuck’s going on?” Paul asked.
I didn’t know where to start. What was I going to tell them?
“Left at the lights,” said Rob.
“Well?” Paul said.
“Rob’s mate’s had an accident. Hit by a car. I said I’d drive him to the hospital.” I needed every second I could buy to think.
Luke bought me some more time, “sorry to hear that, man. Is he in a bad way?”
Rob twisted his head round to answer. “Not as bad as it could’ve been. He’s being checked but looks like he got away with a broken arm and some bruises. Sounded pretty shaken up though.”
“Yeah, I bet.”
Paul didn’t share Luke’s empathy, “But who the fuck are you?”
This was it. I jumped in before Rob could say anything. “Rob’s an old mate from when I lived in London. I went round to use his phone when I couldn’t get a signal. That’s when he got the call from his mate, and here we are.” It sounded just about plausible to me.
“That’s the hospital over there,” said Rob.
I parked in front of some shops to the left of the hospital.
“I’m going to go in with Rob. I won’t stay long. Will you two keep your eye out for traffic wardens?”
“Sure, man,” Luke answered.
Rob and I walked into the reception area. The clean, pale yellow walls were decorated with works of modern art. We followed the signs to the Accident and Emergency department.
“You should have told them,” he said.
“Yeah, I know and I will, but not yet. I’m only just getting my head around it myself.”
I shrank under the look that Rob shot me. “I will. When I’m ready.”
“I know it’s scary,” Rob said, “but being gay isn’t a crime and if they’re really your friends, they’ll understand.”
We arrived at Accident and Emergency, a large room full of rows of blue, plastic bucket chairs. The walls were painted institutional grey and the antiseptic smells from the treatment area stung my nose and filled the space despite its size.
“You’d best go and check on how your mate’s doing.”
Rob walked over to the nurses’ station. He had to wait a few minutes before he was seen. After he’d finished talking to the nurse, he came back.
How’s your friend?”
"They couldn’t tell me, but said it was OK for me to go and see him in the treatment area.”
I wanted to hold Rob and comfort him but lacked the courage. I looked towards the exit.
“It’s OK, you go, we’ll be alright.” Rob said.
“I’m sorry, I’d better head off before my friends come looking for me.”
Rob took a business card out of his wallet, wrote something on the back of it and tucked it into the top pocket of my coat.
“Call me, we might have better luck next time.”
I smiled and was pleased to see a small smile in return.
I watched Rob walk away for a few seconds and turned to leave. Straight into the solid wall of Paul. “What’s taking so fucking long?”
“It took a while to get to the nurse.” My heart was racing. Paul took the opportunity to pull out Rob’s card from my pocket. I made a grab for it but he was too quick. I saw Luke walking towards us but my focus was on Paul. Paul looked at me, his expression of disbelief almost cartoon-like in its intensity. Luke reached us. He looked confused as he took in the scene.
“You wanna know what your fucking friend was really doing after the match?” Paul asked Luke, “He was making friends with that queer.” He pointed at Rob who had turned when Paul started shouting. Paul thrust the card at Luke, “Read this.”
My chest tightened. I could do nothing, my two worlds were about to collide. All the clever concealments of the past amounted to nothing. Luke read aloud. “Next time I’ll want more than a kiss.”
I felt nauseous. Luke looked across at me with questions in his eyes. Rob had started to walk back towards us. I waved Rob away but was too late. Paul was on him before he could retreat. The sound of Paul's fist as it connected with Rob’s face stirred me to action. Rob was no match for Paul. Rob doubled over as he took a punch to the stomach. As I reached them, Paul had grabbed Rob and I barely managed to pull him away before another blow was struck.
"Leave him alone. It’s me you’re mad at.” I shouted directly into his ear.
“Don’t fucking tell me who I’m mad at. I ain’t the pervert.” He opened his arms to encompass every person in the waiting room into the announcement. Luke remained silent, staring at Paul and then at me. I opened my mouth, but before I could speak Paul had started shouting.
"Ah no, for fuck's sake, have you been getting off on us in the showers."
I saw Paul's fist form and braced myself. As he raised his arm to throw a punch, a security guard grabbed the back of his sweatshirt and pulled. Paul was flailing punches and soon a second security guard was helping to remove him from the waiting room. I heard the torrent of abuse echo and fade as he was dragged away.
I helped Rob to a seat and wiped the blood from his face with a tissue. “I’m really sorry, Rob. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. How are you feeling?” I saw disappointment in his eyes.
“I’ll be fine, but, you know,” Rob sighed. “Oh forget it.”
“No, go on, what were you gonna say?”
“Don’t you get it, Stuart? Yobs like him get away with it because guys like you laugh at their queer jokes and join in with the bullying. You’re as much to blame as...” He stopped himself when he saw my eyes fill.
“Y’know, Stuart, let’s call it a day. Your friend’s waiting and I have to go and sort Chris out. Go home and work out what you want before you go to another gay bar.” Rob walked away.
I called after him, “I know what I want.” After a brief pause in his stride, he continued on his way without even looking back.
The enormity of the night's events crowded my mind. My parents, my friends, everyone would know soon. I wanted to run as far away as possible and never look back. I didn't want to deal with the consequences. Luke was standing in front of me. He hadn't said anything about this yet, but I sensed he was about to.
“Paul said he was quee, was gay.”
“What?”
“In the car. Paul said he thought he was gay.”
“Well, now he knows for sure.”
"I know why you didn't tell Paul, but why didn't you tell me, man?"
He was right. Luke and I had always been close. He might have understood.
"I don’t get it but you know I would've been there for you."
I paused and rubbed my head. "It ain’t that easy, Luke. It’s not something I’m proud of and how can I expect my friends to understand when I don’t understand myself?"
He started to ask me a question. I raised my hand to stop him.
"Later, Luke, I'm done in."
"OK, I’ll catch up with Paul and we’ll go home by train. I’ll try and calm him down.” Luke started to walk away and then came back. “Here, you might want this." Luke handed me Rob’s business card, then he left.
As I walked to the exit, I turned and looked back. Rob was still in the waiting room. He saw me standing in the doorway. Our eyes locked but I couldn’t hold his gaze. I don't know if he was watching to make sure I left or if he wanted me to go over to talk. But now wasn't the time for talking. Maybe, in a few days, I’ll call him.