It was a bright sunny spring morning as I walked to work. My journey only took some twenty minutes or so and I had made a stop off at Starbucks for a coffee on the way as part of my morning ritual. Living alone, I did not bother with breakfast. The coffee set me up for the morning and I got lunch in the staff canteen. I was obliged to make a short detour off my route to get to the coffee shop, that was until a couple of weeks ago. Starbucks very kindly opened a new store just three doors down from my place of work and I joined the clutch of caffeine addicts that started to drop by on a regular basis.
Most of the customers were part of the morning rush and had no time for even passing the time of day, some were couples or friends, intent upon conversation among themselves but few become nodding acquaintances. There was one guy, however, who was on his own and always seemed to have his nose in a book. Once or twice he glanced in my direction and on catching my eye quickly turned back to his book. Blond hair that flopped forward as he turned a page, he looked the clean college boy type, about my own age and neatly dressed. He became a familiar sight but rarely if ever looked my way. When he did, he would give me a half smile and quickly look away. At no time were we ever close enough to speak as the place was always crowded with office workers and others, who like me were on their way to their work.
Things were to change in a most unexpected, and for me, unpleasant way. One Friday afternoon after work, I collected some dry cleaning. Among the items was a jacket and a pair of dress pants. They were on a metal hanger with an open-ended plastic cover to protect them. As I was climbing the stairs to my apartment, the pants slipped off the hanger and caused me to trip and fall back down the stairs. In the fall I managed to fracture my left arm, dislocate my shoulder and collect multiple bruises. One of the other tenants saw me fall and rushed to my aid. To cut a long story short, she called for an ambulance and I was hurried off to casualty at the nearby hospital.
I was sedated so that my shoulder could be put right, and the fracture set prior to being put in plaster. It was as I came around from the anaesthetic that I saw a familiar face staring down at me. At first, I could not place its owner and then I realised it was the blond guy I saw in the line in Starbucks. ‘Welcome back to the world,’ he said with a smile that was full on this time. All I could was to stutter a dry throated, ‘Thank you.’
‘I’m Paul,’ he replied. ‘I thought I recognized you when you were brought onto the ward. We’ve never really met although we do see one another quite often in the morning coffee line.’
‘You work here?’ I asked, still feeling drowsy and still not one hundred per cent in charge of my thoughts, or my body.
‘I’m a medical intern, shortly hoping to qualify as a doctor. You had a nasty fall, I gather but you should soon be on the mend. You have been given something to ease the pain that may make you feel a little confused for a while.’
‘Thanks,’ I replied. ‘How long have I got to stay here?’
‘Maybe you can go home tomorrow, it depends on whether there are any lasting effects from the concussion you sustained. Is there anyone at home to assist you? With your arm out of action for the next few weeks, you will need help with a number of things?’ Paul asked.
‘No, I live alone,’ I replied. ‘As I am right-handed and it is my left arm that is broken, I think will be able to cope.’
Paul gave me another of his wining smiles and left my bedside to attend to his other duties. The next day I was told that I could go home and following formalities, I was free to take a taxi for the short journey to my apartment, a trip that normally I would have been happy to undertake on foot.
I had underestimated my ability to cope. It is amazing just how much you rely on both hands to do the most mundane things and as for washing and dressing, an arm in plaster is as much help as a chocolate tea pot. After two or three days, I was beginning to look dishevelled and pots were piling up in the sink. I was making do with pizzas and Chinese food that I could order by phone and have delivered. However, there was a limit to that as I was beginning to tire of junk food and was longing to have the kind of balanced diet I was used to.
One evening, just after I had finished eating the take-away Indian curry I had ordered for a change, my door bell rang. I had few visitors and so my immediate thought was that it would be one or other of the God Squads come to convert me to religion. Grudgingly I opened the door and to my great surprise Paul was standing there. ‘Hi!’ he said. ‘As I have not seen you in the Starbucks’ line, I thought I would call round and see how you were.’ I stood back and ushered him in.
‘That’s kind of you,’ I said. ‘How did you know where to find me?’
He laughed, ‘We have a record of your address at the hospital. I hope you don’t think I am intruding.’
‘No, not at all. It is just a surprise to see you.’
‘Well, I feel we are friends now that we have met more formally than merely being nodding acquaintances at the coffee store. Friends have a duty to help each other when in need, so I am here to help you in any way that I can.’
‘Er thanks, I don’t want to sound ungrateful but help how?’ I replied.
‘It looks as though you could have some help with the dishes for a start,’ Paul said, and he offered to do the washing up. He also said that he could help with the laundry. Then on a more personal note, he offered to help me get a decent wash.
This was how Paul entered my life. His offer of help led to him actually moving in with me and taking an increasing dominating role in my existence. It started with him giving me the help and support I needed while I was disabled by my broken arm. Initially, he came in on a daily basis but after a while he said he had a problem with his living accommodation and as I had a spare room, maybe I could let him move in, albeit on a temporary basis. To give him his due, he contributed towards the rent and until I was able to undertake household chores, he did more than his fair share to keep our home in good running order.
In the evenings, when he was not on duty at the hospital, we would watch TV together or merely sit and read, either books or the daily paper. Of course, Paul had his studies to continue but he was just a few weeks off from taking his examinations that would confirm his appointment as a fully- fledged doctor. The day he received his results, he came home in a high state of joy. I suggested we went out and celebrated. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I am already committed to celebrating with some colleagues, maybe another time.’ I felt saddened by this as I felt that we were close friends by this time but then people at work formed their own special groups and it was not to be wondered at that he should have others who probably had qualified at the same time and it was natural for them to have a joint party or ‘do’ to mark the occasion.
It was past mid-night when I heard Paul’s return. I had gone to bed an hour or so before and I was wakened by not one but two voices. ‘Hush or you’ll wake him,’ Paul said in an exaggerated whisper. The kind of whisper someone who had been drinking rather heavily would use. Floor boards creaked and a door was closed noisily, and I heard giggles. I had no objection to Paul bringing a girlfriend home but this one seemed to have an unusually deep voice. Not long after the sound of bedsprings and a headboard hitting the wall followed. Grunts, groans and ‘Oh my God!’ followed by ‘Fu-uck I’m cumming!’ preceded silence for the remainder of the night. I lay awake for what seemed like hours and when I did wake up again, I saw that I was going to be late for work.
I hurried to the bathroom where to my complete amazement I saw a stranger stepping from the shower. His naked body glistened with water and unabashed he looked me in the eye and said ‘Hi! You must be Paul’s roommate.’ My immediate reaction was to say, ‘Who the fuck are you?’ Unaffected by my outburst he grabbed a towel and started to dry himself. ‘Me?’ he said. ‘I’m Paul’s one-night stand, you can call me Justin. We met in the Horizon Bar and somehow, we ended up in his bed.’
‘I am more than aware of that as I heard the sound effects.’ At that point Paul stuck his head around the door. ‘Oh! I see you two have met.’ He too was naked, a state that I had not seen him in before despite the fact that we were living under the same roof.
I was unable to respond to Paul. I was angry. It did not make sense really. Was it anger because a stranger had been brought into my home or was it was because I was jealous? I had found Paul more than a little attractive from the moment I first set eyes on him, but I had no idea that he was gay. He never discussed sex or sexuality. I had accepted his assistance on the basis that he was an intern at the hospital where I had been treated following my fall.
‘I hope you do not mind, but Justin and I were drinking in the same bar, probably drank a little too much and one thing led to another,’ Paul said as he walked past me and into the shower. His explanation only added to my mental turmoil, and frustration as now it was obvious, I was going to be very late for work. By now the stranger had finished drying himself and had gone back to Paul’s room, presumably to get dressed.
I went into the kitchen, washed my hands under the faucet in the sink and poured my self a glass or juice. As I sat at the table, Justin entered and said, ‘I’m off, tell Paul goodbye for me. I’m sorry if I have been the cause of a domestic crisis. Maybe you should keep your lover on a tighter reign.’ Completely lost for words, I watched Justin leave the apartment and stood to ensure the door was closed behind him.
Not long after, I heard Paul leave the bathroom and I went to have my shower, By the time I had finished he had left for the hospital. I got dressed and without stopping for anything more for my breakfast, I hurried off to the office. My supervisor made some sarcastic remark when I settled at my desk and suggested that I work late to make up time. I resisted the urge to make an equally pointed reply and was soon immerse in my work. By the time I was ready to return home, I had calmed down and was ready to apologise to Paul for the way I had reacted that morning.
When I did get home, it was quite bit later than usual. The place was in darkness and I assumed that Paul was working a late shift. However, when I went into the kitchen, I found a letter on the table. It read: -
I re-read the letter several times, hoping that it held some clue as to how it was not really true. I had lost the one man I had real feelings for but was far too withdrawn to make them know to him. They say that a gay man can recognise another. So far as I was concerned I had not a clue that Paul was gay, even now after what took place that fateful night, I can’t be one hundred percent certain. Maybe he fell in with Justin because he was drunk – I shall never know. All I do know is that I shall never see him again no matter how hard I look at the people in the line at Starbucks in the morning.
FINIS
Most of the customers were part of the morning rush and had no time for even passing the time of day, some were couples or friends, intent upon conversation among themselves but few become nodding acquaintances. There was one guy, however, who was on his own and always seemed to have his nose in a book. Once or twice he glanced in my direction and on catching my eye quickly turned back to his book. Blond hair that flopped forward as he turned a page, he looked the clean college boy type, about my own age and neatly dressed. He became a familiar sight but rarely if ever looked my way. When he did, he would give me a half smile and quickly look away. At no time were we ever close enough to speak as the place was always crowded with office workers and others, who like me were on their way to their work.
Things were to change in a most unexpected, and for me, unpleasant way. One Friday afternoon after work, I collected some dry cleaning. Among the items was a jacket and a pair of dress pants. They were on a metal hanger with an open-ended plastic cover to protect them. As I was climbing the stairs to my apartment, the pants slipped off the hanger and caused me to trip and fall back down the stairs. In the fall I managed to fracture my left arm, dislocate my shoulder and collect multiple bruises. One of the other tenants saw me fall and rushed to my aid. To cut a long story short, she called for an ambulance and I was hurried off to casualty at the nearby hospital.
I was sedated so that my shoulder could be put right, and the fracture set prior to being put in plaster. It was as I came around from the anaesthetic that I saw a familiar face staring down at me. At first, I could not place its owner and then I realised it was the blond guy I saw in the line in Starbucks. ‘Welcome back to the world,’ he said with a smile that was full on this time. All I could was to stutter a dry throated, ‘Thank you.’
‘I’m Paul,’ he replied. ‘I thought I recognized you when you were brought onto the ward. We’ve never really met although we do see one another quite often in the morning coffee line.’
‘You work here?’ I asked, still feeling drowsy and still not one hundred per cent in charge of my thoughts, or my body.
‘I’m a medical intern, shortly hoping to qualify as a doctor. You had a nasty fall, I gather but you should soon be on the mend. You have been given something to ease the pain that may make you feel a little confused for a while.’
‘Thanks,’ I replied. ‘How long have I got to stay here?’
‘Maybe you can go home tomorrow, it depends on whether there are any lasting effects from the concussion you sustained. Is there anyone at home to assist you? With your arm out of action for the next few weeks, you will need help with a number of things?’ Paul asked.
‘No, I live alone,’ I replied. ‘As I am right-handed and it is my left arm that is broken, I think will be able to cope.’
Paul gave me another of his wining smiles and left my bedside to attend to his other duties. The next day I was told that I could go home and following formalities, I was free to take a taxi for the short journey to my apartment, a trip that normally I would have been happy to undertake on foot.
I had underestimated my ability to cope. It is amazing just how much you rely on both hands to do the most mundane things and as for washing and dressing, an arm in plaster is as much help as a chocolate tea pot. After two or three days, I was beginning to look dishevelled and pots were piling up in the sink. I was making do with pizzas and Chinese food that I could order by phone and have delivered. However, there was a limit to that as I was beginning to tire of junk food and was longing to have the kind of balanced diet I was used to.
One evening, just after I had finished eating the take-away Indian curry I had ordered for a change, my door bell rang. I had few visitors and so my immediate thought was that it would be one or other of the God Squads come to convert me to religion. Grudgingly I opened the door and to my great surprise Paul was standing there. ‘Hi!’ he said. ‘As I have not seen you in the Starbucks’ line, I thought I would call round and see how you were.’ I stood back and ushered him in.
‘That’s kind of you,’ I said. ‘How did you know where to find me?’
He laughed, ‘We have a record of your address at the hospital. I hope you don’t think I am intruding.’
‘No, not at all. It is just a surprise to see you.’
‘Well, I feel we are friends now that we have met more formally than merely being nodding acquaintances at the coffee store. Friends have a duty to help each other when in need, so I am here to help you in any way that I can.’
‘Er thanks, I don’t want to sound ungrateful but help how?’ I replied.
‘It looks as though you could have some help with the dishes for a start,’ Paul said, and he offered to do the washing up. He also said that he could help with the laundry. Then on a more personal note, he offered to help me get a decent wash.
***** ***** ***** ***** *****
This was how Paul entered my life. His offer of help led to him actually moving in with me and taking an increasing dominating role in my existence. It started with him giving me the help and support I needed while I was disabled by my broken arm. Initially, he came in on a daily basis but after a while he said he had a problem with his living accommodation and as I had a spare room, maybe I could let him move in, albeit on a temporary basis. To give him his due, he contributed towards the rent and until I was able to undertake household chores, he did more than his fair share to keep our home in good running order.
In the evenings, when he was not on duty at the hospital, we would watch TV together or merely sit and read, either books or the daily paper. Of course, Paul had his studies to continue but he was just a few weeks off from taking his examinations that would confirm his appointment as a fully- fledged doctor. The day he received his results, he came home in a high state of joy. I suggested we went out and celebrated. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I am already committed to celebrating with some colleagues, maybe another time.’ I felt saddened by this as I felt that we were close friends by this time but then people at work formed their own special groups and it was not to be wondered at that he should have others who probably had qualified at the same time and it was natural for them to have a joint party or ‘do’ to mark the occasion.
It was past mid-night when I heard Paul’s return. I had gone to bed an hour or so before and I was wakened by not one but two voices. ‘Hush or you’ll wake him,’ Paul said in an exaggerated whisper. The kind of whisper someone who had been drinking rather heavily would use. Floor boards creaked and a door was closed noisily, and I heard giggles. I had no objection to Paul bringing a girlfriend home but this one seemed to have an unusually deep voice. Not long after the sound of bedsprings and a headboard hitting the wall followed. Grunts, groans and ‘Oh my God!’ followed by ‘Fu-uck I’m cumming!’ preceded silence for the remainder of the night. I lay awake for what seemed like hours and when I did wake up again, I saw that I was going to be late for work.
I hurried to the bathroom where to my complete amazement I saw a stranger stepping from the shower. His naked body glistened with water and unabashed he looked me in the eye and said ‘Hi! You must be Paul’s roommate.’ My immediate reaction was to say, ‘Who the fuck are you?’ Unaffected by my outburst he grabbed a towel and started to dry himself. ‘Me?’ he said. ‘I’m Paul’s one-night stand, you can call me Justin. We met in the Horizon Bar and somehow, we ended up in his bed.’
‘I am more than aware of that as I heard the sound effects.’ At that point Paul stuck his head around the door. ‘Oh! I see you two have met.’ He too was naked, a state that I had not seen him in before despite the fact that we were living under the same roof.
I was unable to respond to Paul. I was angry. It did not make sense really. Was it anger because a stranger had been brought into my home or was it was because I was jealous? I had found Paul more than a little attractive from the moment I first set eyes on him, but I had no idea that he was gay. He never discussed sex or sexuality. I had accepted his assistance on the basis that he was an intern at the hospital where I had been treated following my fall.
‘I hope you do not mind, but Justin and I were drinking in the same bar, probably drank a little too much and one thing led to another,’ Paul said as he walked past me and into the shower. His explanation only added to my mental turmoil, and frustration as now it was obvious, I was going to be very late for work. By now the stranger had finished drying himself and had gone back to Paul’s room, presumably to get dressed.
I went into the kitchen, washed my hands under the faucet in the sink and poured my self a glass or juice. As I sat at the table, Justin entered and said, ‘I’m off, tell Paul goodbye for me. I’m sorry if I have been the cause of a domestic crisis. Maybe you should keep your lover on a tighter reign.’ Completely lost for words, I watched Justin leave the apartment and stood to ensure the door was closed behind him.
Not long after, I heard Paul leave the bathroom and I went to have my shower, By the time I had finished he had left for the hospital. I got dressed and without stopping for anything more for my breakfast, I hurried off to the office. My supervisor made some sarcastic remark when I settled at my desk and suggested that I work late to make up time. I resisted the urge to make an equally pointed reply and was soon immerse in my work. By the time I was ready to return home, I had calmed down and was ready to apologise to Paul for the way I had reacted that morning.
When I did get home, it was quite bit later than usual. The place was in darkness and I assumed that Paul was working a late shift. However, when I went into the kitchen, I found a letter on the table. It read: -
Dear Tom,
You were understandably put out this morning to encounter a complete stranger in your home. For that I apologise profusely. I completed my qualifications today and as a consequence I have been able to take up a new post but in another hospital across the other side of the country.
Please accept the enclosed check as payment of rent owed; it has been a joy to know you and spend time end time with you while you were recovering from your injury. Best wishes for the future.
Your friend Paul.
You were understandably put out this morning to encounter a complete stranger in your home. For that I apologise profusely. I completed my qualifications today and as a consequence I have been able to take up a new post but in another hospital across the other side of the country.
Please accept the enclosed check as payment of rent owed; it has been a joy to know you and spend time end time with you while you were recovering from your injury. Best wishes for the future.
Your friend Paul.
I re-read the letter several times, hoping that it held some clue as to how it was not really true. I had lost the one man I had real feelings for but was far too withdrawn to make them know to him. They say that a gay man can recognise another. So far as I was concerned I had not a clue that Paul was gay, even now after what took place that fateful night, I can’t be one hundred percent certain. Maybe he fell in with Justin because he was drunk – I shall never know. All I do know is that I shall never see him again no matter how hard I look at the people in the line at Starbucks in the morning.
FINIS