Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/276294.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Lewis_(TV)
  Relationship:
      James_Hathaway/Robert_Lewis
  Character:
      James_Hathaway, Robert_Lewis
  Additional Tags:
      Child_Abuse, Homophobia, Details_of_Past_Abuse, Spoilers_for_Ep_4.1_Dead
      of_Winter, Spoilers_for_Ep_2.4_Life_Born_of_Fire
  Series:
      Part 10 of The_only_way_that_each_can_help_the_other
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-11-12 Completed: 2011-11-15 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 7698
****** The Summerhouse ******
by TheMuchTooMerryMaiden
Summary
     This piece covers a lot of detail of James' past abuse. I know that
     some(most) people don't read the series in that way, so don't say you
     haven't been warned. I am indebted to Asparagusmama for help with
     this, although it should of course be noted that any stupidities in
     it are mine alone.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Nothing much had changed since Robbie and James had finally admitted how they
felt about each other. James had finished off his recuperation still staying in
Robbie’s flat and they had shared a bed and kissed and cuddled. They had
settled down into a quiet domesticity very quickly and truth to tell it suited
them both. Work was perhaps going to be a little more difficult but they could
cross that bridge tomorrow when James returned to work. Right now though what
they had was a lazy Sunday morning.
They had sat quietly side by side on the sofa, Robbie reading the Sunday papers
and James wandering round the Internet on his laptop, that morning but as time
went on Robbie could feel the tension build in James and so he wasn’t surprised
when James broke the now uncomfortable silence,
“Robbie?”
“Yes, love?” he replied, trying to keep the trepidation out of his voice, not
knowing what it was James was going to say but dreading that it would be
something truly awful.
“I think I need to tell you about my past ... experiences. I don’t really want
to, I’m scared, petrified really, that when you know what happened to me and
what I’ve done and not done you’ll see me differently. I know you love me but
I’m not sure how you’ll feel.” Robbie managed, just, not to heave a sigh of
relief, for a second or two he had been sure that James was going to tell him
that all of this had been a mistake. He took a moment or two to think before he
replied with utter conviction,
“It won’t alter what I feel for you.” But it was clear that James was still
sceptical.
“You can’t say that what if I told you I was a murderer? That would certainly
change how you saw me!”
“Yes, but you’re not going to tell me that, and your past has always been there
the whole time I’ve known you; you are the sum total of your past and it’s a
pretty fantastic total from where I’m sitting.” James smiled at that but he
still looked worried.
“Look, James, I only want you to tell me what you want to tell me, I’m content
not to be curious, you only need to tell me if it will make you feel better.”
Robbie leaned over slightly to put his arm around the younger man’s shoulder
and gently hugged him. James smiled at him with slightly watery eyes and Robbie
could see him swallowing convulsively.
“There are things I need to tell you, so that you can understand some of the
things I do and some of the ways I might react. I want us to be together in
every sense of the word but like I said I have some issues. I’ve had
counselling, since the Black case and going back to Crevecoeur and things are a
bit better but I need you to understand some things about me, and I’m scared
that when I’ve told you what happened you are only going to see the scared
little boy I was, that you won’t be able to see me as an adult who wants you in
every way. I don’t want you to question my motivations every time I reach for
you or hold you.” James paused, leaning into Robbie’s shoulder for a moment or
two before gently pulling away and turning slightly to face him. Robbie took a
deep breath before replying,
“It’s not like I didn’t know that something had gone on is it? I suppose I will
be able to stop imagining bloody awful things if I know the worst. I can’t
promise that what you’ll tell me won’t give me pause from time to time, but
you’ve dealt with it for all these years, I have to try to do the same.”
“Thanks,” James replied and for a moment he hugged into Robbie before pulling
away again. Robbie took the hint and sat up straighter still very close to
James but not touching; expressing support without any demands. James took a
deep breath and then began to speak in a clear but quiet voice, his gaze
directed into nowhere,
“I think you probably guessed it started with Augustus.”
Assumed as much Robbie thought, I should have got a sly punch in or had him
fall down the station steps when I had the chance.
“I was seven, and one day my dad came home and told me that his lordship had
decided I was old enough to learn to play the piano. I was so excited,” James
smiled slightly in remembrance of his younger self, “music was already very
important to me even then, and I was going to learn to play the piano like the
people on the radio. I didn’t sleep the night before I was so excited by the
idea of learning to play.
An analytical part of Robbie’s brain, the well trained copper, classified this
as archetypal grooming behaviour, make the child feel special, make sure that
they feel gratitude and that they know how much they owe you. Robbie wondered
how Mortmaigne had known that James was musical.
“To be fair, he did teach me to play the piano, that’s pretty much the reason I
play guitar now. He taught me a lot of other things as well.” James shuddered
and Robbie couldn’t help himself but reach out to cover the younger man’s hand,
stroking gently with his thumb. It’s not like I’m taking a statement, don’t
need to worry about cueing the victim, Mortmaigne will rot in prison without
James having to go through this in a court room. But this is hard enough for
him without dealing with my emotions as well and so he kept his expression
neutral, showing interest and encouragement, and using all of his self-
restraint to avoid having his feelings show so that when James took a deep
breath and looked up to Robbie’s face briefly before looking back down at their
linked hands and continuing the younger man didn’t see the rage that was
seething under the surface.
“It was in the summer house. At first all he did was stand behind me, placing
my hands where they needed to be to play the first simple tunes he taught me.
Even right at first it seemed odd that he stood quite so close and that he kept
brushing up against me so often. When I knew more, later, I couldn’t believe
I’d been so stupid, that I hadn’t known why he was doing that, when I knew how
it felt to be aroused to have someone touching me and rubbing me. I was a
thorough going innocent before Augustus, so I didn’t know why he was getting so
breathless, didn’t understand even what was prodding against me.
Robbie suddenly had a heartbreakingly clear picture of the young James, excited
to be learning the piano, probably running to the summerhouse, music in hand,
looking forward to his lessons. I don’t suppose I’d ever have seen him happy
like that even without all this, but I’m sorry that I never have, I’m sorry
that I’ll never know that James. The James before that bastard got hold of him.
The thought made him tighten his hand slightly on James’ but it didn’t disturb
the flow of James’ speech,
“After a while, of course, that wasn’t enough for him. That’s when I started
getting treats when I learned new pieces. ‘If you learn the next thirty bars,
James then I’ll give you a treat!’ That first treat was him showing me ‘how
nice my little cock could feel’.” James stopped and looked back up to Robbie’s
face, clearly apprehensive and unsure about continuing. Robbie held his gaze
for a moment before speaking,
“There’s nothing you can tell me, love, that will alter how I feel about you.
You have to believe me,” Robbie continued, “but if you want to stop then,
that’s up to you. I want to hear it all if you want to tell me, but only if you
want to.” There was a long pause while James looked at Robbie and Robbie kept
the eye contact, trying to convey with a look his love and support. Again James
looked down and for a long time Robbie thought that he would stop, and a
cowardly part of himself that he hated hoped that he would, but finally James
sat up slightly straighter and continued, still apparently focused on Robbie’s
hand caressing his own.
“And the problem was that it did feel ‘nice’. My mum caught me doing it to
myself and that’s how I found out that only dirty boys did that and that such
things were as a result of unclean thoughts and that doing things like that
would make the Holy Mother ashamed.
“I talked to Augustus about what my mother said, and that’s when he told me
that these things had to be our secret. He wasn’t crass enough to out and out
threaten anyone, it wasn’t the standard ‘if you tell anyone something bad will
happen to your mum’ it was a more subtle ‘it would be a shame if you had to
stop learning to play when you’re getting so good’, and as I got a little
older, ‘you and your family would have to go away if anyone found out’. The
abuse progressed as well, going from him making my cock feel nice to me making
him feel nice, with my hands and with my mouth. There was no violence and as I
grew older that almost made it worse, why did I do these things that I knew
were wrong, it must have been because really, I liked doing them, obviously I
really was a sinner and a pervert.
The bloody Church, Robbie thought, like this wasn’t hard enough on the lad, he
was being abused and he was also having to worry about hell fire. And what was
his mother about? It didn’t occur to her to wonder where her very young son was
learning these things? I suppose not, to be fair; most lads discover that for
themselves.
“The first time Augustus screwed me was just after my tenth birthday and it was
horrendous. I don’t want to sound like I’m making excuses for him and this
isn’t some sort of Stockholm Syndrome type thing but he did try to make it OK
for me he just really had no idea. It was painful and I bled and his hands were
all over my cock and I couldn’t sort out the good feelings from the pain and I
could tell he was enjoying it and surely I must be enjoying it because I was
hard and when I cried out he covered my mouth with his hand and just screwed me
until he came. I felt like I was going to suffocate or just die from the pain
of it or the shame of it and for the first time I really wished that I would
die.
It was everything Robbie could do to stay still while James told him this.
Everything in the older man was crying out to make someone suffer for teating a
ten year old lad like that, for treating James like that. It's as well the
bastard's in Prison, if I could get my hands on him... and then Robbie's
vengeful thoughts stuttered to a halt, and that would help James how? he
questionned. He needs me here now, focused on him.
“And when he’d finished, he was kissing me and fondling me and telling me what
a good boy I was and how it would be better next time, I’d see, and all I could
think was that the next time I would die, I was sure of it; I didn’t realise
that the body can get used to almost anything. I limped home afterwards and had
a long, long shower. Then I looked at my clothes. I thought my mother would
know what I’d done and everyone would know and we’d have to go away and
everyone would still know.” Robbie could so clearly hear the chaotic thoughts
of James’ younger self coming through as he recounted what had happened that it
was all he could do not to gather James into his arms. Perhaps I should, he
thought, but I have to respect his ability to deal with it all, I can’t make
things up to that frightened, damaged child by treating the grown man like he’s
a child. James continued, “So I hid the clothes, and then very early the next
morning I buried the evidence so that no one would have to know what a pervert
I was. After that I made sure that I wore only my oldest clothes when I went
for my piano lessons.
Robbie’s heart went out to the young boy that James had been, covering up his
shame, No! Not his shame, Robbie thought as another fierce jolt of hate fuelled
adrenaline went through him, that fucking bastard’s shame. He’d have been
worried witless that someone would see him and know his secret. That fucking,
fucking bastard, I could almost wish I did believe in Hell if I thought that’s
where he’d end up. Robbie tried to take a deep breath and to calm himself,
above all he did not want James to sense his fury and think for even a second
that any of it was directed at him but quietly James continued,
“I gained about a foot in height and filled out between the ages of eleven and
twelve and Augustus began to lose interest in me, for a little while piano
lessons were just that.” James paused for a long time while Robbie continued to
stroke his hand and to wrestle with his desire to break something. Finally
James looked up, “You’re angry aren’t you?” he asked. Robbie could see nothing
to be gained by denying it, lies, even lies told with the best possible intent
would not help in this situation,
“Angry doesn’t quite cover it,” Robbie replied with an attempt at a smile, “But
yes, I am. Sorry. It’s not at you, I know you know that. It’s just that at this
point I want to make him pay for what he did to you so badly I can taste it.
That b...” James interrupted,
“I don’t want what I’m telling you to do that to you. It’s gone. He’s been put
away. He can’t do it again. I’ve had to let this go. After that time at
Crevecoeur I knew that I had to put this properly behind me if I was ever going
to be able to live a reasonable life. I won’t have it eat at you. This is why I
hesitated to tell you what happened.” Robbie took a deep breath before
replying,
“I can’t promise you I won’t get mad, but I can promise you I will deal with
it. This won’t eat away at me, at us,” and that newness of that idea was still
such that both men grinned briefly, “I’ll process it and move on. If needs be
I’ll get some counselling myself, I promise.” James smiled a genuine smile at
that,
“Now I know you’re taking this seriously,” he quipped, “suggesting going for
counselling, I think you can be drummed out of the Thames Valley Constabulary
for that can’t you? Proper hollow square stuff, truncheon broken over the Chief
Constable’s knee, the whole bit.”
“Well, then, we’ll get drummed out together, you sarky bastard!” Robbie
replied, thankful for the release in tension for both of them. James squeezed
his hand tightly before he spoke again,
“Are you OK if I carry on?” Robbie returned the squeeze of hands
“Of course.”
“I was bereft when Augustus lost interest,” James looked up, “I thought ‘Didn’t
he love me anymore?’ I actually missed him screwing me.” Robbie could hear the
contempt in James’ voice now and he tightened his grip on the younger man’s
hand. “In the end I decided that it was because I was growing up and that’s
when I stopped eating, if I could just stay small then Augustus would still
love me and everything could carry on the same. Of course it didn’t, but I
still ate as little as I possibly could and flirted desperately with Augustus
for all the good it did me.”
“It was one of the weirdest things about the whole situation I hated what
Augustus was doing, I hated how he made me feel but in some ways I loved him. I
felt like I’d be nothing without him. I know now, Lord knows we’ve both done
the training, that that’s how it works, that abusers find kids who have low
self-esteem because they’re going to be the easiest to control but at the time
I felt like I was going mad, how could I possibly want him to carry on doing
these things to me? It was constantly on my mind, it was all that I thought
about for days at a time. The only time I got away from it was when I was
studying which is probably why I did so well at school; that was something of
me that he couldn’t have.
“I don’t think that it was my fault that we moved off the estate, although I
did at the time, it was probably as much to do with my dad’s drinking as my
unsuccessful and frighteningly unsubtle flirting, but go we did. I suppose it
might have been because my dad said something to Augustus but I doubt it. I was
heartbroken to be leaving my friends and the Hall and, God help me, Augustus. I
remember we had one last ‘piano lesson’ before I left. He screwed me over the
piano stool and I was trying to take in every detail. When he finished he
pulled me to the floor and sucked me off. He’d never done that before and over
the years I think I’ve hated him more for that than for anything else he did.
He could have left me that, he’d had me every other way, but he could have left
me that unsullied, except of course he didn’t see it like that.” Robbie stirred
a little at that, and James knew that he was disturbed by his understanding of
what Augustus had been feeling and he supposed it did seem that he was making
excuses for Mortmaigne.
“And after we left, it was like I had a bloody great neon sign over my head. It
seemed that anyone who was interested in an underage, tall blond boy could tell
that I was fair game. I suppose they could tell, they’d know the signs, a
twelve year old who was too knowing, too wary and of course I’d spent the last
six months trying to tempt Augustus. When I was thirteen I was picked up off
the street by a couple of blokes in a van, that was probably the worst, one of
them held me down while the other screwed me and then they swapped over and
then they just dumped me out of the back of the van. It took me hours to walk
home; they’d driven about for a while. When I got home I tried to sneak in but
my dad caught me. He was pissed and swore at me calling me a queer and telling
me this was what I could expect if I was determined to be a screaming bender.
It was then I realised that he’d known what Augustus was doing. He’d known and
hadn’t done anything to stop it.
James paused for a long time and Robbie wondered if he was going to stop. He
didn’t want to prompt James, to seem like he was questioning him. In the end he
settled for a neutral question,
“Are you OK?”
“Yes, it’s just that this is the bit which I’m most worried will alter how you
feel, this is the bit that makes me hate myself the most.” Bloody Hell, Robbie
thought, there’s worse? Something that makes him hate himself? I need to brace
myself and I need to reassure him,
“I couldn’t hate you, James. It’s not in me and I’m sure there’s nothing in you
that’s hateful. Whatever happened you’ve dealt with it, can I do less?” Robbie
held himself very still, trying to cover what he was thinking, What if I can’t
deal with it? What will it do to James if I turn away from him because of what
he tells me? Fuck! What’s that thing about those who are abused going on to be
abusers? If that’s what he’s going to tell me I’m not sure I will be able to
treat him in the same way. It wouldn’t be his fault, but still. He looked up at
James who was chewing at his thumbnail in that way he had when he was nervous
or worried and not even trying to meet Robbie’s gaze. Oh, bugger he’s really
scared of my reaction, poor sod, I have to deal with this, he’s mine, the good
bits and the bad bits, and so he continued to stroke James’ hand and just
gently said, “It’ll be OK, I promise.” James looked at him gratefully before
continuing,
“Well, the thing that worried me most about telling you this was that you would
think I should have told someone, stopped it happening to Paul and Briony and
God knows who else besides.” Robbie tried very hard not to react to this, he
knew he would never want to reveal to James the things that had gone through
his mind, and he hated himself for thinking such things were a possibility.
What was actually bothering James seemed so small a thing in contrast, but it
clearly wasn’t a small thing to the younger man. When Robbie looked up James
was staring at him and Robbie fervently hoped that his thought processes had
not shown on his face. James was clearly waiting for an answer and it took
Robbie a second to work out to what, in the end he settled for a question of
his own,
“Did you never tell anyone before you went for counselling?” James looked down
and Robbie wondered if it had come off like an accusation. Swallowing, James
answered him,
“I tried to once when I was at school, but I don’t think that the person I told
wanted to hear. I couldn’t be explicit about it, the words wouldn’t come and
the person I was telling was either the world’s greatest innocent or they were
trying extremely hard not to understand. It was my music teacher. I’d sat down
at the piano in school, the first time I’d been near a piano since we left
Crevecoeur, and played a tune. Of course he hadn’t known that I could play and
he was a little surprised. He asked me why I didn’t play and I said in a
reckless moment that I didn’t play because the person who taught me used to
touch me. His reply was ‘well of course he did, you have to get the person
you’re teaching in the proper position.’ That triggered the worst flashback I
ever had, I was right back there with Augustus ‘positioning’ me, I ran out of
the room and threw up in the corridor outside. I didn’t try and tell anyone
else for years.
“The next time was in the seminary. As you might expect the issue of celibacy
is one that often occupies the minds of young men training for the priesthood
and our spiritual advisors asked us how we would cope with the lures of the
flesh. When Father Francis asked me if I felt celibacy would be a problem, I
almost laughed in his face, at that point I couldn’t imagine ever wanting to
touch anyone or to be touched by them. I gave him a very short outline of what
had happened and he behaved as if I’d been lucky since it clearly meant that I
wouldn’t find celibacy an issue. This was just a few weeks after I’d realised
what I’d done to Will and Feardorcha and the two things together, the whole
screwed up attitude hit me like a brick. I was out of there inside a week.
“I can’t say I’m sorry, pet,” Robbie smiled as he said it and briefly James
returned the expression before he continued,
“And then there’s the other question: when I went back to Crevecoeur, why
didn’t I say anything?”
James stopped speaking and the silence drew out until it was a thing separate
from them prowling round the room examining things. Robbie had sworn not to
pressure James to tell him what had happened but he sensed that the lad wanted,
needed, help to get over this last hurdle,
“I can’t say I haven’t wondered, though it’s becoming a bit clearer now.” It
was little enough encouragement but it seemed to be what James needed,
“I’ve spent forever wondering myself. In the end it’s simple and so must I have
been. At first I thought it was just me. I genuinely thought that it was only
me, it never entered my poor deluded brain that he could want someone else. And
then later, well later I’d trained myself not to think about it at all, it was
all so well buried that I felt almost nothing when I met Augustus for the first
time at Crevecoeur it was like I’d gone somewhere else in my head. I’m really
sorry, I was next to useless on that case, probably worse than useless. When I
realised what he’d done to Paul and what he was doing to Briony it was far
worse than getting shot, the guilt was enormous but the fact that Paul could
have, was going to...” James stumbled to a halt, his shoulders shaking as he
tried to control his emotions. Robbie ran his hand up James’ arm and squeezed
his shoulder, wanting really to give him a hug but unsure how such a gesture
would be received in James’ current emotional state. Slowly James calmed his
breathing and continued, looking directly at Robbie,
“If Paul had killed you that night it would truly have been my fault, your
death would have been on my hands as well as Dr Black and Linda Grahame and I
don’t think I could have born it.”
“What?” Robbie asked incredulity making the words come out much more harshly
than he intended, “How are Black’s and Linda Grahame’s deaths on your hands?”
“They’re on my hands because if I’d spoken out, if I hadn’t been worried about
my own feelings and reputation then Augustus wouldn’t have done to Paul what he
did to me, Dr Black and Linda Grahame would be alive and Paul wouldn’t be in
prison. I put Paul in occasion of sin.”
Bloody Hell, James, Robbie thought, this is taking guilt just a little bit far
even for you, isn’t it? Does he really think it’s his fault? Surely he must see
that it all flows from Augustus. How is he ever going to live with this? And
what do I say to him? But I have to try and say something,
“You were just a child when all this happened, you expect too much of yourself.
All of this and I mean all of it is Mortmaigne’s fault. You were a child, for
pity’s sake.”
“I hadn’t been a child for about fifteen years when I went back that day and I
should have known what was going on and I should have said something,” James
snapped back,
“You know that most victims of abuse don’t, why should you be held to a higher
standard?” Robbie asked gently,
“Precisely because I do know that, because I’ve sat on the other side trying to
persuade someone that they need to tell, because I was cowardly enough to hope
that Briony, a sixteen year old girl, would have the balls to do what I
couldn’t.”
“But it was precisely because it was so long ago that you couldn’t...” James
interrupted with more genuine anger in his voice than Robbie had heard for some
time,
“No! Stop. Stop making excuses for me, I was a miserable coward about the whole
thing, still am. Look, I’m going out, I need to think.”
As James stood up, Robbie went to catch at his hand but James neatly stepped
away from his grasp, “Just leave me!” he snapped again and then he looked at
Robbie properly and relented a little, saying in a quieter voice which Robbie
actually found more worrying, “don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything
stupid, I just need some air.”
“And you need to get that air on your own?” Robbie asked.
“Yeah, I do. I’ll see you later.”
As James left the room Robbie sank back into the sofa and covered his face with
his hands. When he heard the door slam his shoulders fell.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Why can’t I make him understand? James thought as he walked away from Robbie’s
flat, why doesn’t he get it? I have to make him realise what I’m really like, I
can’t have him find out later and have this all come apart, I couldn’t deal
with that, not when I’ve waited so long, better, much better if I never really
get used to it. James continued to walk, taking no notice of where he was going
his thoughts chasing themselves around in his head leaving him with the feeling
that he was just a spectator, that the thoughts had an existence of their own
separate from him.
It was a feeling he recognised all too well, it was the feeling he’d had most
often in the last few months that he’d lived at Crevecoeur. It was as though
there were two of him, one that obsessively went over and over everything and
one that tried desperately hard to be normal while all this went on around him.
Of course he knew that talking about what had happened was likely to stir
things up but it hadn’t done it to the same extent when he’d talked to the
counsellor. I suppose it’s because I didn’t really care what he thought and I
do care what Robbie thinks. I wonder what he was thinking. He was so restrained
all the time. Did he already know? Don’t think there’s any way he could know
any detail, although I think anyone would have suspected there was more going
on in the Black case than I was letting on, God, even Hooper seemed to have his
suspicions.
I need Robbie to realise how weak and craven I can be. He has a warped view of
me and when he finds out how bloody gutless I am then this will be all over.
James pushed on, still walking without a destination in mind and at a speed
that was more than he was comfortable with but that helped in and of itself,
the burning in his muscles and the breathlessness gave him something else to
focus on and he badly needed that, because for all he’d told Robbie that he
needed time to think what he really needed was time to not think. He’d walked
for well over an hour by the time he found himself back at his own flat and
strangely he almost expected to see Zoe Kenneth there, that was the last time
that he’d walked and walked worrying about what Robbie thought about him and
whether there was any way back.
Oh, fuck it, I’ll just stay here. I’ll go to work tomorrow and treat this like
it’s all been a fever dream. It’ll be a relief to him I would think. Well, no
not that, I know he loves me or at least he loves the me he thinks I am and God
knows I don’t want to disillusion him any more than I already have, but this
will be better, we can go back. James let himself back into his flat, surprised
to find that his keys were in his jacket pocket and went straight into the
bedroom, still more or less as he left it the morning before he’d ended up in
hospital, except for where Robbie had disturbed some things when he’d collected
clothes for him. James didn’t let himself think about that, he tuned his mind
to the white noise channel, the same channel that had filled his mind at
Crevecoeur, stripped off enough clothes to be comfortable in bed, climbed in
and went to sleep almost straight away.
 
It was almost physically painful when Robbie heard the door slam. What the hell
did I do wrong? he wondered, What did I say that was so wrong?
Robbie started to replay the end of the conversation looking for a clue as to
what it was that had upset James so badly; in the end he had to conclude that
he really hadn’t said anything that bad and perhaps this conversation was
always going to end this way. It seemed like James was determined to make
Robbie see him in a worse light. I suppose he probably is at that, clearly he’s
had better than twenty years thinking about all this and some non-rational part
of him has decided it’s all his fault. I suppose I can see what he means about
hoping that Briony would say something about Mortmaigne when he hadn’t, well I
can see why he sees it that way, I don’t think he’s right, obviously. And then
he stopped and thought some more, actually I think he may have had a point.
When he saw that poor girl hurting like that it is hard to believe that he
didn’t say anything.
I wonder where he’s got to. I suppose I’ve got to trust that he can take care
of himself, that he won’t do anything silly, he hasn’t up until now, but then
before today it was all safely buried away.
Robbie got up and began to tidy up, his worry about James required him to be
moving and he couldn’t go trailing around after the lad, it wasn’t unreasonable
for him to want some air; Robbie had to allow him some space. An hour later
Robbie had got as far as vacuuming the living room, at least it was burning off
some of the tension he was feeling . However it was doing little for the
apprehension and the worry. Abruptly he switched off the vacuum and picked up
his keys. Sod it, he thought, I’m not going to leave him wrestling with this on
this own, if we’re in this together then we’re in this together. At the very
least I think I’ll go and have a bit of a drive round and see if I can spot
him, don’t want him overtiring himself after he’s been ill.
It felt marginally better to Robbie to be moving and he realised that it had
been the same for James, worry and adrenaline finding some release in movement
because it was better than it finding release in aggression or violence. Robbie
drove a spiral search pattern out from his flat, knowing that it was relatively
useless; James could be almost anywhere. Robbie knew that the only sensible
place to check was James’ flat and after half an hour he finally headed there.
When he got there he could see that was where James had gone, there was a light
on in the hallway that he knew hadn’t been left on. He’d got into the habit of
driving past James’ flat on his way to and from work just to keep an eye on the
place and that light had definitely not been on.
Robbie parked up a little way down the road and tried to work out what to do.
He had the spare keys, he could just walk in, he could knock on the door and
see if James would let him in. Or he could drive away and deal with it when
James came home or at work tomorrow. That last thought was the hardest, what if
James wasn’t coming home? What if he’d decided he’d had enough?
Robbie ran his hand through his hair, grimacing at the dim light from the
hallway lamp. The question was where should the line be drawn between giving
James space and making sure that he was there for the lad and that he was
fighting just as hard as he could for this new and wonderful thing between
them. Well, he thought, I’ve more often regretted not doing something when I
had the chance than I’ve regretted doing things and got out of the car, locking
it and striding down the road towards James’ flat. Robbie decided that the
right answer was to knock on the door, I shouldn’t just barge in, he thought.
James was woken by the knock on the door and decided to ignore it. It wouldn’t
be anything important and anyway, just because someone decided to knock on the
door didn’t mean he was obliged to speak to them. The thought that it might be
Robbie flitted through his mind but he wrote off the possibility. However when
the knocking continued beyond where even the most dedicated cold caller would
have given up and gone on to the next house, he decided that it probably was
Robbie and that he didn’t want to talk to him, a line from a song budded up in
his mind, ‘Don’t want to fight day and night, bad enough you’re going’ it
didn’t quite fit but it did capture how James was feeling at that point. He’ll
go away eventually, James thought and found the ear buds that were still
plugged into his stereo, stuffed them into his ears and pressed play before
pulling the duvet almost over his head. Tears fringed his pale eyelashes but he
was determined not to cry.
After ten minutes of on and off knocking at the door and the window Robbie had
reluctantly decided that he would have to use the keys after all, he didn’t
want to admit it even to himself but he was beginning to be worried about
James. He opened the door and without actually setting foot over the door step
he called out,
“James? Are you there?” There was still no answer and he walked in. James, or
whoever, had only put on the lamp in the hallway as Robbie had guessed. He
himself put on the main light before walking into the living room and putting
the light on in there. No sign of James and he was clearly also not in the
small kitchenette. That left the bathroom and the bedroom.
When Robbie went into the bedroom it was instantly clear why James had not
answered the door, Robbie could hear the beat of the music from the headphones
at the door.
“James!” he shouted, trying to attract the younger man’s attention, without
appreciable success. Robbie hesitated unclear about whether to go over and
shake James. In the end he decided to put the light on and see if that worked.
It did. James sat up abruptly pulling the earphones from his ears.
“Sir! What are you doing here?” James asked,
“Looking for you! What’s going on James?” Robbie felt a genuine anger building,
Bloody Hell! What was the lad thinking? “What were you going to do?” he asked.
“Just turn up at work tomorrow like nothing had happened? Did you not think I’d
worry?” For a moment Robbie could see James framing an apology before changing
his mind,
“I needed to be away.” It was said in an almost inflectionless tone, quiet and
restrained but with a hint of steel to it.
“Away from me?” Robbie asked. He felt like all the blood was draining from his
brain, like he might faint. “What...” Robbie’s voice faltered and he smoothed
back his hair and cleared his throat, “What did I do wrong?”
James’ anger vanished at hearing that tone in Robbie’s voice, to be replaced
with an even greater depth of revulsion at himself, Look what I’ve done to the
man, he thought, fuck, I don’t want ever to hear him speak like that again, but
I can’t let him waste his time on me, I really can’t. James got up untangling
himself from the duvet and moved towards Robbie. He wanted nothing more than to
gather Robbie up, to kiss him and hold him until the lost look the older man
had on his face disappeared but he couldn’t.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. I couldn’t have asked for you to respond in any
better way than you did to what I said. It was just saying it, telling you,
made me realise what a pathetic excuse for a human being I am. You don’t see it
now, because we’re both caught up in the moment, but you will see it, it will
become all you can see. And I can’t....” it was James’ turn to choke up. James
looked down, swallowing convulsively for a moment and continued, “love you like
I do and have it all fall apart, better not to really start.” James looked up
and was startled to see that Robbie had relaxed a little and certainly looked
less pale.
“Listen,” Robbie said, “I’m not going to have this conversation stood here with
you in your skivvies, I’ll go and make a brew, it’ll be milkless I’m afraid,
while you put some clothes on and then we’ll discuss this sensibly.” James
looked dubious but Robbie continued, “Please?” and when James nodded and turned
back to the bed to retrieve his clothes, Robbie moved off to the kitchen to put
the kettle on.
 
When Robbie walked back into the living room, James was sat on the edge of the
armchair fully dressed and looking nervous.
“I found some condensed milk, not ideal, but better than nothing.”
“Thanks,” James said reaching up to take the proffered mug. Robbie sat down
with his own cup at the end of the sofa nearest to James. James allowed himself
to hope, just for a few seconds, that Robbie was going to let the matter drop.
But it seemed not. Robbie leaned forward slightly and put the mug he was
holding down on the coffee table and began to speak,
“Look, James, I’m not going to let this go. I think I took all the training
I’ve had a little far this afternoon, I gave you so much space and was so
neutral about it all, I treated you like a witness. I did it for the best of
reasons but I can see now it was the wrong thing to do...” James interrupted
him,
“No, you handled it really well, honestly.”
“I can’t have done, can I, otherwise you wouldn’t have felt the need to walk
off into the sunset, would you? Seriously what were you thinking? I really need
to know.” After a long hesitation James began to frame a reply,
“I was thinking that you had a wrong idea of me and that I didn’t want to see
you disillusioned. When I told you that last bit, the bit about hoping that
Briony would talk about what Mortmaigne was doing so that I didn’t have to, you
should have been revolted. Eventually when the new wears off this...” James
seemed to flounder, trying to find the right word but failing, “...this, then
you will feel that revulsion and...” again a pause and Robbie could see a shine
of tears in James’ eyes, “... and you’ll decide that you’ve had enough. And
that’s the bit that I don’t think I can take.”
“So,” Robbie said clearly considering what James had said, “what you’re saying
is that you think that I’ll discover the ‘true you’ and then I’ll bugger off,
is that right?” This was said with a calm that James could hear was forced, he
could sense Robbie’s anger and quite honestly it made him want to hide.
“Well, you know, you might have a point at that.” Robbie paused for a moment or
two taking in the quickly covered up hurt and shock on James’ face before he
continued, “Because to be honest you are behaving like a coward right now. For
pity’s sake James, relationships never come with a guarantee, why would this
one? The question is, are you prepared to fight for it?”
“I don’t know whether I can.” James admitted brokenly.
“I do. I know you can. You’ve fought for everything you’ve got, why would this
be different. You fought for your education, you’ve fought to be a functioning
adult after what that bastard did to you, you’ve fought for your success at
work. This is just one more fight and this one you don’t even have to fight on
your own.”
“I don’t know how I can convince you James. Yes, you were right it was cowardly
of you to hope that Briony would do what you should, but then you know, I never
thought you were perfect, love. God knows I’m not perfect. If you were perfect
how could I ever measure up? After more than five years we know more about each
other’s imperfections than most people do after a life time, and you know what?
Even with that I love you. Do you love me?”
James felt light-headed, all of Robbie’s words were echoing in his mind, but
there was only one possible answer,
“Yes,”
“Then come and sit by me.” James got up and took the few steps to the sofa,
sitting down to Robbie’s left and leaning in to him as Robbie put an arm around
him. “We can deal with this, if something does end this later, it won’t be any
of the fallout from what that bastard did to you, I promise.” James looked up
and Robbie leaned down and kissed him.
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