‘But . . . but . . . you said it was fine to book a double room.’ Jonathan was bewildered.
‘Yeah because we wouldn’t be in it much. You don’t come to London to stay in a hotel room. You come to party! Look, Günter and I are gonna split later. I’m going back to his place. I’m sorry if you’ve got the wrong impression, Jon. I really like you as a friend. I think you’re great, but I like my men small, slender, and youthful. Older queens don’t float my boat. I’ll see you back at the hotel tomorrow and we’ll talk.’ He shrugged, still unable to meet Jonathan’s eyes.
Jonathan felt as though he was going to faint as he stared at the man he’d secretly hoped would become his life partner. He was in total shock. Leon had held hands with him in the taxi and kissed him in the queue and now he was telling him that he wasn’t his type, and that he was practically a geriatric!
‘You’re here. Get in the groove, dude, you might meet someone tonight. A good shag will do you all the good in the world,’ Leon said petulantly, wishing Jonathan and his long face would disappear and leave him to his dancing and Günter.
‘You know, you’re a real bollix, Leon,’ Jonathan swore. Leon shrugged before turning away to begin dancing with Günter who simpered triumphantly, wrapping his arms around Leon.
Jonathan turned away, unable to watch them smooching, and made his way through the swarm of dancers towards the exit. The blood was roaring in his ears. He felt sick, shocked and utterly drained as he left the club and walked past groups of revellers under the arches beneath Charing Cross Station. He walked in a daze, stunned at the way things had turned out and Leon’s cruel, almost calculated rejection of him, berating himself for being a romantic fool and wondering how he could have been such an idiot. You did it again. You fool. You eejit! You sad bastard. Will you never learn? You are unlovable! He was beyond gutted! He felt completely dead inside. A good shag will do you all the good in the world. Clearly Leon had come to London with that very agenda, and not to spend time with Jonathan.
It started to rain lightly, bringing him back to reality, and he hailed a taxi and gave the name and address of the hotel. You’re not my type. I don’t fancy you. Older queens don’t float my boat. The words clanged like clashing cymbals over and over in his head and he tried desperately not to cry as the elderly black taxi rattled and bumped down the Strand towards the Mall. Even the glory of the illuminated Admiralty Arch and the sight of Buckingham Palace, resplendent ahead, could not move him as it usually did and he barely glanced out the window as the taxi rounded the Victoria Memorial heading for Knightsbridge and the urgently needed sanctuary of his hotel room.
Ring when u can, I need to talk! Jxxx
Hilary gazed bleary-eyed at the text that had pinged on her phone, waking her up.
I need to talk!
Need! Was that good or bad? It certainly wasn’t like the giddy texts Jonathan had been sending her yesterday, Hilary thought, yawning as she glanced at her bedside clock. Quarter to eight! He was up early after his night of unbridled passion.
The house was uncharacteristically silent for that hour of the morning. No one frantically running around, no rushing to shove breakfast down necks, no looking for school books, or keys and phones, just blissful peace. And then she remembered, the girls were on school holidays, Niall was in Dubai and she was only going to drop into the office for an hour or so later on. Hilary gave a luxurious stretch. She’d make herself a cuppa and a slice of toast and bring it back to bed and settle down for a gossip with Jonathan. Twenty minutes later, propped against the pillows, sipping her tea, she picked up her phone and dialled Jonathan’s number.
‘Hi,’ came a muffled voice.
‘What’s up?’ she asked, instantly alert to something being wrong.
‘Leon went off with someone else last night. He told me that he didn’t fancy me. He told me that he liked his men young, and slender, and that older queens didn’t float his boat,’ Jonathan said dolefully.
‘What!’ Hilary was stunned. ‘He said what?’
Jonathan repeated Leon’s words.
‘Oh my God! I don’t know what to say, Jonathan.’ She couldn’t believe her ears.
‘What is there to say?’ he said dully. ‘I’ve made a complete, an absolute fool of myself, and kidded myself yet again that there’s someone out there for me.’
‘There is someone out there for you,’ Hilary exclaimed, grieved at her friend’s desolation and shocked at his totally unexpected news.
‘I give up, I just give up.’ Jonathan was near to tears.
‘Where is he now?’
‘Shagging young Günter somewhere, I suppose,’ Jonathan said bitterly. ‘I’ve spent a fortune to be treated like the biggest idiot going. I am the biggest idiot going.’
‘Well you can’t stay in the same room as him,’ Hilary said decisively.
‘I have to wait until he comes back – all his stuff is here.’
‘Feck that for a lark! Pack it up and leave it in reception and check out! Let him go and bunk in with this Günter yoke!’ Hilary was raging for her friend.
‘I suppose I could do that and just get a flight home,’ he said flatly. ‘But I just don’t think I can face an airport though. I’m afraid I’ll start bawling and make a spectacle of myself in public.’
‘I’m coming over,’ she declared, surprising herself.
‘You’re going to come to London!’ Jonathan exclaimed.
‘Yes I am. I don’t want you jumping into the Thames. It would be far
