“You asked her?”
“I don’t know why. She looked sad.”
“How do you think she feels now. Her and Simon are engaged, you know?”
“I just wanted to get out of that room for a bit. It was too smoky. It smelled, as well, sweaty.”
Tony stripped off again, waded through the mess past Mark and clambered under the sheets.
“What made you ask them to do that?”
“It was the best rehearsal we’ve had in weeks.”
“It was risky, Tony. What if they figured out you’re queer?”
“It was just lads, Mark. They never thought anything about it.”
“Yeah, right,” Mark said, though he knew Tony was right. “But you got a real thrill out of it, didn’t you?”
Tony lay back under the thin covering and considered. “Yes, actually, I did. And listen, I played better than ever, didn’t I? You know I did. It does me good to have naked men around me.” He tugged at Mark’s shirt.
“I don’t think I can sit around and watch it every Saturday,” Mark said, undressing.
“All right. You and the girls can just enjoy yourselves in the kitchen. And, as for them finding out I’m queer, what about me finding out that you’re straight, Mark? How do you think that makes me feel?”
Mark slipped out of his shoes, sitting on the corner of the mattress. “I’m not straight, Tony. I’ve already told you, I don’t know why I kissed her.”
“You were just keeping your options open? And letting me know that?”
I could say yes, agree with him, Mark thought. Let him carry that one about with him. “I don’t know how my life will turn out,” he said truthfully. “I can’t see the shape of it at all.”
“So you’re saying you’re not ruling out going straight?”
Mark slid off his jeans and lay down beside Tony. “I honestly can’t say, Tone. It’s so difficult.”
“Did you fancy her?”
“Who? Pauline?”
“Could you have got it up for her?”
“I suppose so. I—”
“What are you after, Mark?” Tony burst out suddenly. Beside them the tape ran out on the recorder and the silence fell hard on them. “What do you want me to give you?” He looked at him squarely. “You’re mine. You know that.”
Not for the first time Mark felt unnerved by Tony’s voice. Strip away all the rest of him, his voice was the strength, the hard core of him.
“I can give you anything any woman could. You don’t have to go straight to get back at me.” Tony slapped the pillow. “Jesus, I would’ve been less bothered if you took John upstairs and fucked him.”
John was the bass player. Mark snorted. “I can’t see that happening.”
“Did you see him, though? Was he naked while you were there? The size of him, Jesus!”
“Just stop talking about it.”
“What is it, Mark? Are you ashamed of yourself? This is what it’s like, love.”
“I want to sleep.”
“What do you talk to the girls about? Having babies? Is that what you and Pauline were on about How you could have babies and we couldn’t?”
“This is stupid.”
“Is that what you want, Mark? Do you want children? Is that why you want to keep your options open?”
“Yeah, right.”
They curled up under the sheet. Tony lay behind Mark, coiling one arm into his chest, gripping him lightly. Mark still had his shorts on; they separated them even though their bodies were clenched as close as they could go. Suddenly Tony felt stupid, vulnerable in his nakedness, with his dick pressed uselessly at Mark’s back, his arse in the breeze under the rucked sheet. “I’m going to put some things on,” he whispered hoarsely. Seeing to it, he was blushing, as if he ought to be ashamed of himself.
Propping himself on one elbow, Mark said, “Don’t bother,” and pulled his shorts off, slinging them into the detritus of Tony’s room. He held the sheet for Tony to get back in and curled around him fiercely when he did. This time the closeness was right; they were both relieved, erect and grateful for each other. “I’ll always have you and nothing’ll stop that. Your body is mine. I know what I’m getting from it.”
IN LEEDS THAT NIGHT IT WAS SNOWING. HE DIDN’T HAVE MUCH MONEY with him. None of them had thought about the expense of all this. What if Tony wanted money? Wanted buying off? I should be keeping what I’ve got, Mark thought, but as he passed out of the station he went straight to the taxi rank. He wanted to go as fast as possible to the address Tony had given him. Once had had seen Sally safe again, the rest could be negotiated afterwards.
It was such a relief to be in the back seat of the taxi, borne along through the city centre with tall buildings about him, hearing the wheels slash through the build-up of snow. The driver was quiet, too; resentful of working on a holiday. The city was still. Seventies disco played on the radio, as if they had slipped back in time, as if he were in an American city.
This was how cities always struck him, wherever they were. He felt dwarfed and exhilarated, pressed back in his seat and looking up out of the corners of windows.
Soon they were passing through subways and looping main roads, out past the tallest buildings and into the suburbs. Here the shops were less frequent and rougher, their windows barred for the night. They slid through one concrete estate and Mark shuddered. He locked his door just in case. It was probably no worse here than it was on his own estate, but he was taking no chances.
They found Headingley. The houses were older, taller, and built of an orange brick that looked dirty in the night and the snow. Packs of students were wandering around, congregating outside off-licenses and cinemas. White men
