Pain Doesn’t Die. We Do
Jamie and Dean absolutely kept their word. Fiona did fight. She fought for nearly two years. Accompanying her to appointments, bringing groceries and supplies, preparing meals, managing medication. Fiona was ebbing away but deep down she was stunned by the stamina and commitment that Jamie and Dean showed her. ‘Her boys’ as she came to call them. Weakly clasping at their chins as they would rally round morning, noon and night.
Jamie’s mouth became sore toward the end. Biting down so hard on the inside of his mouth, he got the creeping metallic taste, a reminder to be her strength. Anything but show his emotion in front of her. He couldn’t break for her. That would come after. Dean, the work horse behind him, always. Whispers of a promotion were keeping him busy and late but any other time to spare, he didn’t have to be cojolled, he just went to Jamie without question. Physically. Emotionally. There.
Exhausted, one night they collapsed on the sofa in June 2018. “You’re an angel.” Jamie whispered as they lay, a mass of starved, thirsty and emotionally bankrupt muscles and limbs.
“Me? What?” Dean circled a lock of Jamie’s hair in his hand. Hoping to bring about some form of peace and steadiness.
“You didn’t have to commit to this like you have. Dean, you’re such a precious soul. First Earl, now Fiona. You’re gorgeous.” Jamie reached his forearm around Dean’s waist tighter.
“I think you need to pay yourself more credit here. You’ve worked yourself silly to make sure Fi is as comfortable as possible. You’re a trooper. I love this side of you. You’re just blind to effort. If someone needs help, you just do it.” He kissed his head.
“I hate misery. I hate misfortune. Injustice. If I can stop it or at least soften the blow, I will.” Jamie sighed.
Silence lingered for a few minutes. It was welcome. Life was hectic during those final weeks. Not a moment to process the magnitude of their efforts.
“What are you thinking” Dean whispered, tepidly breaking the quiet. He didn’t want Jamie to close the door on him and be bullied by big thoughts on his own. Tackling them together was best.
“It’s coming. She was so weak today. Moving her into the hospice this past week was the last milestone in this horrible race. I know she doesn’t want to be here anymore. We’re like the last guests at the party and she’s the host who’s exhausted and wants to go to bed.”
Dean thought a moment, then went in with it. Humour was needed and he knew Fiona well enough. “Come to think of it, we’ve actually been at parties where she has done exactly that.” He squeezed Jamie’s shoulder.
“Oh god. That’s so true. She could be a nasty bitch.” Dean raised his thick eyebrows and Jamie. “Oh don’t worry, that’s an in joke between us. Shit I was using past tense. Sorry Fi.” Jamie looked up at the ceiling. “Fuck! She’s still on earth why am I doing that as well?!” He ran to the balcony, wrenched the doors open and shouted, “I’m sorry Fi!” He hugged himself and his shoulders began to shake. Dean ran to him.
“It’s shit, Dean. You’re already miserable and you’re just waiting to be even more miserable. I don’t really believe in God but any bastard who tries to justify her passing, when it comes, as God’s will, will have a fucking mouthful from me. What God thinks this is right? The same one who puts cancer in kids and puppies?” Jamie started reeling. Dean crashed his arms around him. “I finally had people around me who made my world happy. I don’t want them to leave. None of you.” Jamie turned. “I’m locking the doors. You’re all captive from here on in.” He protested into Dean’s bicep.
“Jamie, she’s sick. She doesn’t want this anymore. We have to think of her. She can’t stay to make you, me, or anyone else feel ok. The kindest thing we can do is to let her go. And keep her here. Yeah?” Dean pressed his left index finger into Jamie’s chest.
Jamie didn’t reply. He huffed and squeezed Dean one last time time. “I’m going to bed. I’m getting up early to get to the hospice and hope I’m not too late.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No. Can I do this alone? Please? This is one time I’d like to just have my head as company.”
“Anything you want.”
Jamie smiled falsely, wiped his tears and disappeared inside. Dean leaned on the balcony and looked up into the pink night sky. “Fuck.” He whisepred to himself. Sometimes there was no other word to fit the feeling.
Jamie arrived and sat with her the next morning, June 20th. As he promised. No acknowledgement on arrival. Jamie wasn’t expecting one but the idea of Fiona not sitting up and barking orders with a subtle current of affection softening her words was still alien. He knew she was leaving. He held her hand. He felt her go twenty or so minutes later. Stillness and silence. Jamie, usually such an outwardly emotional person was mute. Breathing lightly. Minimising his presence as this monumental moment concluded. She was done fighting.
He leaned over and kissed her head, already waxy and firm. “Good bye city Moma. I’ll make you proud. You were never a nasty bitch. You were an icon. Sleep well. I never told you, but your job is done. I love you.” He swallowed something achingly sad deep down.
He pulled himself away and quietly moved into the foyer shortly after. He nodded to the medical staff as they went about what it was they needed to do. He knew his flood of anger, sadness, despair would come. He knew Dean would probably bear the brunt. He looked down the foyer. Nurses and doctors footsteps tapping away with urgency. Chitter chatter and mumbled cries. There weren’t happy endings here. He was winded by the normalcy of life outside of the room he was just in. A person has died. Life moves on. The very moment that last breath escapes. The thought began to drown him. He slumped against the glossy magnolia wall with a screech.
A familiar jog, breath and then hands grabbed his shoulders. “Oh god Jamie, I’m so sorry. Come here.” Dean knew better than to listen to him completely. But there he was, just behind. Only a few steps.
“She’s gone! Fiona’s gone!” Jamie hit out at Dean’s chest then scrunched his t shirt around his fist and pulled Dean close. The cry was almost a roar, vibrating against Dean’s neck. Dean swallowed. Hard.
“Ok. Ok. You’re ok. She’s not in pain anymore.” He whispered.
“I am. It’s transferred to me. This is what happens isn’t it? The pain just moves. It needs a fucking host like some fucking parasite. Pain doesn’t die. We do.” Jamie wailed into Dean’s chest. The only safe place to cry.
“Feel everything. Hit me again if it makes you feel better. I’m bigger than you anyway.” The little humour was a fresh breeze in a stuffy room. Jamie stopped and giggled.
“Thank you for not listening to me and coming to catch me. And sorry for hitting out. God I’m childish.”
“No you’re not. You’re hurting. It’s ok.”
“Fi’s friends and I will be sorting out the funeral. She’s arranged lawyers to support us at Connect, whatever that means. So that’s all taken care of. Even afterward she’s still managing us all.” He cried at the memory again.
“I need to get you out of here. Some fresh air. A talk? Anything. Silence. Whatever you need.” Dean grabbed his face gently and followed his eyes.
Dean ordered them cappuccinos and two huge slices of carrot cake at a nearby coffee shop in Clapham. The Royal Trinity Hospice behind them. He sat, staring at him, thumbing his lip.
“What?” Jamie wiped his eyes again, smiling awkwardly. Red. Puffy. He looked almost grey. Dean sensed a little embarrassment prickle Jamie’s face. Then it dawned on him. They’d never had to navigate death before.
“Nothing. I’m saying nothing. You tell me what you want to talk about. I’m hear for you. I can take all day. Try me.”
Jamie grabbed his hand. “I love you. Do you get anything wrong?” Jamie giggled then sobered again. “I’ve been through this before. Grandparents. It’s almost physical the way it hits you though isn’t it? I’m asking you, but we never talked about death before.”
“It’s final. Nothing prepares you. Our reactions are different for every person who leaves us. They leave different marks on us. Death is the one thing you cannot judge anyone on how they deal with it. I’m the same, grandparents. You feel your childhood dying a little too. I think that’s what you’re feeling maybe? Part of your history in London, part of you is maybe not there anymore?” Dean shifted, his grandparents faces flashed in front of him. Jamie knew, he grabbed Dean’s hand.
“You’re right. She’s gone and part of who I was has too. We carry them with us though, isn’t that what’s said? I’ll carry her. I know you carry your grandparents in that big heart of yours. You have space for everyone in there.”
“They’d have loved you. I’m a big guy, I love a lot. But seriously, in time you’ll see how Fi pushed your life into new directions. Always thank her for that, but you’ve done plenty of the hard graft yourself.”
“That day I met you in that bar before messing you around, what was it? A hundred years ago?” He let a weak giggle escape. “She’d just congratulated me on a huge proposal. I never talked about achievements back then. Always thought I shouldn’t, I felt like I didn’t deserve them. She’s the first person to believe in me.”
“There it is. You don’t think you’ll have that support again. Let me tell you, first there is me. Your family, your fucking wonderful friends and you’re flying high in the business now. Jamie stop proving yourself to anyone apart from yourself, even then. Stop. You’re doing everything you thought you couldn’t or shouldn’t.”
“Well that’s the first positive thought I’ve had in weeks. Thank you. Can we walk on the common? I need air and maybe a quiet look at the city. With you.”
“Absolutely.”
They wondered in silence through Clapham Common. Life going on around them. Family picnics, teenagers huddled, runners, cyclists zipping past. Jamie sighed and leaned into Dean’s shoulder. Thankful that in this huge and unrelenting place he always had the strongest of arms to grab onto when he felt like he was coming undone.
A week later, the funeral service took place at the end of June.
It was a quiet affair. Fiona kept her circle small and her family was non existent. Jamie felt numb apart from his lip quivering uncontrollably throughout. Dean’s hand at the back of his neck the entire time, a steady force.
As everyone filed out of the City Of London Crematorium, Jamie caught a familiar figure. He smiled gently and walked up slowly.
“Hello there.” He managed his best to sound upbeat but the heaviness of the day betrayed his voice.
“Ah Jamie. How wonderful to see you.” Peter turned. Jamie was a little taken aback. Peter seemed different. They’d kept tentatively in touch over email and passed each other on a few nights here and there but nothing that resembled the friendship Jamie had hoped for. Peter looked worn out. Tired. “How is your keeping? A sad day. I did have to say a goodbye.”
“Fiona would be touched you’re here. How have you been? I haven’t spoken to you in such a long time. Is everything ok?” Jamie asked, meaning to say, you look like shit, tell me what’s going on.
“I am good. Yes. Changed jobs, now in club promotion. Working a few locations.”
“Quite the change. Marketing in the traditional sense not for you?” Jamie felt slightly uneasy at the news.
“It still is Jamie but, the money is good and I need it to survive.” Peter snapped.
“No judgement. You do what you have to in this town.” Jamie responded calmly.
“It was good to see you. I must go now.” Peter walked away. Jamie’s eyes followed him. Peter jumped into the rear passenger door of a black Range Rover that sped off as quickly as it could.
Jamie stared after it. Dean’s hand on his shoulder. “Everything ok?”
“I don’t know. He seemed different. Like his fire went out or something. Scurrying off to that car. What the hell was that?” Jamie’s eyes snapped back to Dean. “Anyway, one small blessing for having a tiny funeral? No wake. Can we get the hell out of here. Today is weird enough without dwelling on that nonsense. He’s knows that we’re here for him. I’m not forcing friendship. I know I’m too good for that.”
Dean grabbed his face in his palms. “We’re going home. I’m getting you something sweet to eat. Somethig strong drink and you’ll just have me and our sofa to yourself. That sound good?”
“Take me home, babe. Perfect.”
The following week Dean watched Jamie from the corner of his eye at every moment. Cautious not to let him completely out of his sight. Fiona’s passing had shifted Jamie’s strength. He didn’t want to say the word out loud but there was a sense of regression in Jamie’s behaviour. More chaotic than he’d been in the past couple of years. Impatient. Lashing out. Forgetful. He knew he’d come out of it eventually. Dean just needed to soften edges, divert from sharp corners, until he was done. He was grieving. He wouldn’t judge.
He didn’t admit it to anyone but Harry. He asked for an emergency coffee at his apartment in Shoreditch the following weekend.
Dean walked in and dramatically flopped on his sofa with a sigh.
“That bad huh?” Harry laughed. Dean had told him about Fiona but Harry’s loft was a space for Dean to say what couldn’t be said back in Notting Hill.
Dean flipped onto his back. “I shouldn’t talk about him like this. He’s hurting. He’s lost someone special. I completely get it. I’m just fucking exhausted. It’s not a cry for help, but it helps to just acknowledge it. I can’t at home. Can you fucking imagine? I’m not taking on Jamie’s temper. Even if world peace depended on it.” Dean clasped his hands to his face.
“Sport, sounds like you’re married.” Harry responded dryly. “He’s going to be ok. He feels a lot. Let him burn his fingers a little. It’s how he does things. Your problem? He loves you so much he’s happy to scream at you when the burning gets too much.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right. I just want to wrap him up and snatch him out of this. I don’t want to leave him when he’s like this. I just want to be there but he practically kicked me out the door this morning. Thank you for letting me take cover.”
“It’s all good. Give him time. We said years ago, he’s delicate. Let him be delicate for a bit. He’s our baby boy. He’ll be ok.” Dean loved Harry’s blind defence of Jamie’s behaviour.
“You’re good to him H. I love it. Anyway, while I’m here. What’s going on with you, man?” It felt good to talk to about other things.
“Well I might be going into production on that book in the next few weeks. I’m finally making the move into film! Haven’t I gone on about this for years?!”
Dean leapt up. “Oh shit! H, that’s fantastic! Tell me everything.” He grabbed his best friend in a tight hug. “What was it again? I’m sure Jamie will have read it.”
“He has. We discussed it when it was published. Lie With Me by Phillipe Besson. Beautiful and tragic story. I’m so excited to get my first film production off the ground. Jamie has been so supportive.”
Dean noticed the emphasis on Jamie’s support. “I’m sorry H. I know I should have been more present in the last few months but work has been kicking my arse and then Fiona…”
“Hey! You’re always there for me. Shut up. Jamie just has a natural interest in this kind of thing. Don’t be hard on yourself. I don’t ask about your work much. I don’t get it, I never have, have I? Doesn’t mean we don’t care. Have another coffee and tell me about your plans for your third anniversary.” Harry comforted him.
A weight lifted. He smiled warmly at nothing in particular. It was nice to have a clear head for a moment. Harry was his pillar. Letting him take the weight off when his knees started to buckle.
Harry gasped at Dean’s plans. Dean just hoped that given recent events, Jamie was going to be able to cope with the gesture.
Hugo and Gordon had met with Dean to inform him of a new role within Plutus. A career defining moment. This time, there was no panic attack. He was absolutely sure he could take on the responsibility. While Hugo and Gordon ran the numbers by him in Hugo’s office the previous week, Dean remained as calm as possible but he couldn’t wait to do something for Jamie to celebrate. Not just his achievement but the support Jamie had given him in these past eight years to allow him to sit and listen to his new role being mapped out in front of him. In his mind, he was sat there because of Trouble. Now he wanted to show him. Do something big. Something that threw caution to the wind. Leave Jamie speechless.
He needed to clean out his car.
Later that day, as if walls had ears, Dean returned to the apartment to the smell of a meal being prepared.
He peaked round the corner to see Jamie, apron on, following a cook book. He looked so innocent but his shoulders were still tense with all his emotions. Dean could have married him all over again. No, better than that, said I love you for the first time all over again.
“Babe? What are you up to?” Dean stayed away a little, using the island for protection.
Jamie huffed and turned. “I’m sorry. Sorry for lashing out since the funeral. At totally ridiculous stuff. Demanding you leave me alone. Don’t leave me alone. Got to the gym. Do this. Do that. Don’t do that. Fuck I’ve been a fucking cunt to you.” He clasped his hands to his mouth but started to laugh. “But you still stay. Dean come here. Honestly. Coast is clear.” He opened his arms in invitation.
Dean smiled like a boy and ran, picking him up, kissing his neck. “Don’t apologise. You’ve suffered loss. It’s ok. I am concerned what you’re doing to our kitchen however.” He dropped him down.
“Arsehole. I’m making, correction, trying to make a Thai dish for you by way of an apology. I’ve managed to pay attention this long. Proud?”
“Always.”
“I really am sorry. I need to say this so shush. You stick with me even in my nightmare times. You never retaliate or leave unless I tell you too. I just hope you don’t regret any part of me.”
“Never. Will you stop?” Dean sensed a window. It had been a while. Understandably. He dropped to his knees and pushed his face against Jamie’s growing mound. “I’ll take every single part of you.” He pulled Jamie free.
“Dean, what are you doing? Fuck.” He plunged his hand into Dean’s hair as his head bobbbed. Jamie’s hips snapped forward as he came in Dean’s mouth. Dean lingered. Swallowing hard and pushing deep onto Jamie still. Jamie had the faintest hair down there, it brushed Dean’s nose. Always Dean’s marker. Clawing his cheeks. Clearing up his efforts. He licked his lips and got up to kiss him. “Every damn drop.” Looking him dead in the eyes. “Truce?”
Jamie, still recovering. “Oh. Truce. For sure.”
“Good.” Dean slapped his behind, turned and hurdled the back of the sofa, landing in blankets, putting on the sports channels. “Shout when dinner is ready. And I’d put that away, cooking with your dick out is dangerous. Especially something that size.”
Jamie turned and giggled to himself.
17th August 2018
It was their three year wedding anniversary. They decided they wanted celebrate with friends this year and would meet everyone for a dinner and however the night would take them, later.
The day was filled with errands. Jamie felt a little flat, no champion breakfast or champion roll in bed. In fact, Dean was up and out at nine in the morning. A simple “happy anniversary” and a rushed peck on the cheek was all Jamie was afforded. He didn’t protest, this was married life, not every waking moment was a milestone to be celebrated. He sighed as he returned from shopping and collected the mail in the post room. The locker almost drowned him with cards. He smiled. Love exploding all around him.
As he gathered the mail he looked through the door to the garage. Dean’s Audi RS3’s chrome trimmed grill usually sat glaring back through the glass, was gone. Jamie froze and went white hot. Fucking car’s been stolen. He dropped his Harvey Nichols bag to the floor with a clap.
“Dean! Fuck! You didn’t say you were taking the car today! It’s gone! It’s not here! I’ll ring the pol…”
“Hey baby. Stop. Stop. Stop! It’s ok. The car is with me.”
“Shit. Ok. Where are you then?”
“Are you able to meet me within the hour? Can you get over to Mayfair pretty sharpish?”
“Uh, I suppose. We’re going out tonight, though, remember? Why?”
“I know that. Listen. Meet me at the Porsche dealership ASAP.” Dean hung up. Jamie grinned but immediately began to sulk. Has he treated himself to a sports car?
Jamie tried not let his mind twirl into selfish and childish thoughts, but he couldn’t help it. He eventually reasoned if he had bought a new car, it would at least be something they could both enjoy. He hurried the mail upstairs and bolted for the tube.
“Ok, I’m here. What’s going on?” Jamie huffed. The beautiful cars around him made him salivate, the smell of leather and Dean beaming back at him made something inside groan but he daren’t show him.
“Frosty?” Dean said with a cocky turn of his head.
“Well it’s our anniversary and I’m in Porsche looking at cars for you I presume? Treat yourself, whatever, but really?” Jamie came closer. “I don’t want anything but I didn’t even get you know what this morning.”
Dean grabbed his shoulders. “I’ll make it up to you later. I promise. Now turn around.”
A Porsche 911 GT3 in a midnight blue was burbling on the forecourt.
“Oh that’s so gorgeous.”
“It’s mine.”
“Shut up! Seriously?! Oh my god! Let’s go for a drive, fuck let’s cancel dinner and drive all night!” Jamie went to move away but Dean grabbed him. Jamie almost involuntarily back flipped on the spot.
“Wait. Follow me please.” Dean grabbed his hand and pulled him out next to the car grinning childishly. “So, the third anniversary is the gift of leather, did you know that?”
“I did. I didn’t think a Porsche was going to come with cloth seats did I?” Jamie was still entranced by Dean’s new machine.
“Good. Well, I hope you approve of the leather I chose for yours then.” Dean signalled to Carl, the sales associate dealing with the purchases. A maroon Porsche Boxster S convertible rolled up next to Dean’s new car. “I chose Bordeaux Red.” Dean dropped a key into Jamie’s hand and smacked his behind. “Happy Anniversary Trouble. That one’s yours. Enjoy. I need to sign some paper work.”
Dean giggled and walked inside.
“Dean?! What?! Is he serious?!” Jamie frantically shouted to Carl as he got out of the driver’s side and gestured to Jamie.
“Oh, absolutely serious. Congratulations on your third anniversary and your new machine.”
Jamie squealed and opened the door and lowered himself into what was apparently his new car. A card was resting on the centre console. A navy now wrapped around the steering wheel.
To Trouble,
Happy Third Anniversary!
(Eight years all in-I never forget that number)
You’ve driven me crazy since day one. Now you can drive this beauty crazy.
You’ve given me the belief in myself to conquer the world alongside you. New doors open (literally if you’re reading this), new chapters get written, all because of you.
You mean the world to me and anything to make you smile, I will do it.
I love you to Paris and back. That will never change.
P.S Please don’t crash her.
All my love,
Big Boy Arden-Archer
Jamie leapt out and ran to Dean. “Oh Dean, you can’t be serious about this?! Can you, we, afford this? I mean these? Can’t believe I’m talking about plurals of Porsche. In our wedding suit colours for fuck’s sake.” Jamie laughed but was completely incredulous at what was happening. “What about the house we want? Your family jeep? I’m no fool, there’s like two hundred grand’s worth of metal out there?”
“I will fill you in on everything but yes we can afford it. It’s not my money, it’s ours, everything is ours, remember? There’s plenty of time for our country house dream. We can have fun in the mean time. We both work hard, why not enjoy ourselves? I had some really fucking good news in work so I’ll tell you later. But for now, shut up and get acquainted with your new wheels. Maybe think about a name? I think she’d like that?”
“I love you so much. You’re too much Archer. And she? She’s a she?” Jamie grabbed at his jacket. Trying to cling on to this new reality Dean had dropped on him.
“Ah, ah, ah. Arden-Archer thanks. And yes, she’s a lady. All cars are ladies. Everyone knows that.”
Jamie weighed up the justification, grinned and ran back out.
They drive home in tandem. Jamie in Edie, affectionately named after his favourite underground sixties icon, Edie Sedgwick. Dean, in Gina. More practical. Gina the GT3. Jamie demanded a name before they left. Dean chose under duress just to get going.
They pulled up next to each other. Jamie got out and ran to Dean as he climbed out of his car. Jamie grabbed his face and kissed him hard. “You’re incredible. You can whip me up into a mess of excitement at any given moment. You’re a fucking walking climax, Dean.” Jamie wrapped his left leg and and Dean’s right and ran his hand up his t shirt. Grabbing his chest and growling.
“Get the fuck upstairs. I can’t wait to tonight. You’re having it now. Want the same power as the five hundred horses under my bonnet in you, boy?” He bit Jamie’s lip and wrapped a palm around his neck.
“I thought it was about time we got a new bed anyway.” Jamie sparred and winked. “Catch me if you can!” Jamie ran for the stairwell, new keys jangling in his hand.
They met friends and brothers and Ali at Dorian in the heart of Notting Hill that evening.
“Well that smile says someone had a good anniversary gift today.” Harry enquired.
“Oh I did.” Jamie fished out the key for his new car out of his pocket. Everyone gasped.
“Shit Dean, are you fucking serious?” Gabby screamed.
“It’s a splurge. We work hard. He drives me crazy, now he can drive himself crazy.” Dean giggled and rubbed Jamie’s neck. “Look, might as well tell you all before Jamie thinks I’ve started dabbling in drug trafficking.” Everyone leaned in. “Hugo met with me recently to discuss my career. My promotion had to be agreed by the board but uh, you’re now looking at the new IT and Cyber Security Director for Plutus’ global operations. Big responsibility. Fucking big pay cheque.”
Jamie jumped and pulled him in. “Oh babe I’m so fucking proud of you. You’re damn right. You’re going to fucking rock this.” Jamie nuzzled into his chest.
Everyone clapped and cheered.
“Congratulations bro.” Lee grinned. He didn’t show it often but he was immensely proud of his brothers.
“Cheers everyone.” Dean grabbed Jamie by the shoulder and turned to the group. “So happy anniversary to us. Three years down and a lifetime to go baby. You game?” Dean flashed the smile that made Jamie weak every time.
“Always. My castle. I love you.”
After dinner, everyone started circling. Richard stole Dean away for a moment. “Congratulations both. Three years mate, already.”
“You know you should lock this down with Gabby. She’s the best. She’s an incredible friend to him, she’s been one to me, too. Not afraid to stand up for herself. She’s fucking brilliant.”
“That’s what I wanted to run by you. It’s been nearly eight years. We’re too comfortable. I feel like I need to ask.”
“Don’t do it because you feel like you’re filling a gap. When I asked that ball of chaos over there, it was a feeling that just took over. Knocks you side ways, upside down, inside out. When you feel that. Do it. I can hire out my wedding planner when you’re ready.” Dean grabbed his shoulder and they laughed.
Jamie appeared. “What are you two laughing at?” Jamie was merry and swaying already.
“Just you.” Dean laughed again, eyes heavy on Jamie.
“Rich, I’m always the butt of his jokes. Eight years. Arsehole.” Jamie slapped his chest.
Richard met Dean’s eyes then looked over at Gabby. He nodded.
“Soho, let’s go!” Trix appeared.
“Fuck yes baby!” Jamie shouted.
“Don’t lose those car keys. Why did you even bring them?”
“I want to keep them on me.” Jamie said sweetly.
“Ok. Sorry. Shouldn’t have asked.” Dean’s hands went up on mocking defence.
“Thank you again. I love Edie. I’m blown away.”
“You deserve everything. I mean every happiness I can give to you.”
“Oh yeah? You made me pretty happy earlier. I don’t think I’ve cum that hard ever.”
“Round two later?”
”Bring your A game.” They kissed. Everyone must have known what that kiss meant because everyone fell silent around them. They both finished and looked out at their group. Slightly startled.
“Finally. We can go. They’ve finished eating.” Lars announced dramatically. Everyone roared.
Dean whispered to Jamie. “For now, huh?” They laughed into each other’s shoulders and headed out with everyone and into the night.
The following week.
Audrey wanted the family together to celebrate Dean’s promotion. They met at the Holland Park townhouse.
Following dinner Jamie was on his phone and scrolled London gossip articles. “God I hate people like this.”
“Jamie? Who do you mean, dear?” Audrey asked softly from the top of the table.
“I come across people like this all the time in my fashion work. Liberals with the whole fighting the establishment angle, then they shack up with some old oligarch for security.” He smirked.
“Well, with an introduction like that are you at least going to give us names?” Audrey loved Jamie’s acid tongue.
“Hmm a, let me see.” He scrolled back up the article to a photo of a younger short haired gentleman with and older, slim one, attempting to be fashionable. “Drew Green, aspiring artist and self proclaimed child of the system and Christian Collingworth. Some life science entrepreneur who owns a private members club in town, Khonsu.”
“Never heard of either.” Audrey sighed.
“He doesn’t need to shack up with that guy to get his work out there. God sake, can’t people believe in themselves. I bet this Christian guy’s wealthy friends are buying up his art and filling his head with shit.”
“Jamie!” Lee shouted. His throat all of a sudden closing at the sound of Drew’s name. He thought he was going red.
“Just believe in yourself. God.” Jamie continued.
“Jamie! Stop!” Lee’s hand clapped against the table.
“What?”
“Maybe you don’t know what their situation is, this uh…” Lee deflected.
“Drew Green.” Henry echoed.
“Thanks. You don’t know what people are going through. Use some of your own philosophy when talking about others. Seriously. Christ you’re such a hypocrite at times. The fashion world is just one huge fucking grotesque contradiction.” Lee began to get up. He needed to remove himself from saying anything else and get as far away from whatever article it Jamie was reading. He was half irritated by Jamie’s sweeping assumption but wholly spooked at Drew’s name being aired in the same room as his family.
“Sorry Ma. I’m going to make move. I’ve got an early start in the morning. Dean, congratulations. Everyone, great to see you. Jamie? Just…”
He didn’t finish, shook his head as he threw on his jacket and left.
“Leave him.” Audrey’s hand hovered over the table. Every single attendees behind clapped back to their seats. This is was Audrey’s house. Mother’s rules. “Now, Jamie, he’s just expressing his opinion. It’s healthy to disagree. He’s a deep man and deals with a lot of cases involving disadvantaged people, perhaps your slightly sweeping allegation stung a little. Don’t take it to heart.” Audrey smiled kindly. Jamie smiled back. Feeling completely mortified. He felt Dean’s hand grab his thigh.
“I agree. Give him time. Anyway, congratulations Dean, son. We’re hugely proud of you.” Mark raised a glass of champagne. Everyone limply reciprocated.
Filing out into the foyer of the cavernous house a friendly hand caught Jamie’s elbow. “Are you ok?”
“I guess. I’m such a prick. He’s right. Why the hell did I just jump to judgemental over someone I don’t even know? That’s not me. Em? Am I getting too detached from the real world with all this social media and fashion stuff? I feel like I’m slipping.”
“Hey. Stop. You had a disagreement. Lee’s such a closed book you never know what he’s going to come out with next. Honestly. That’s why no one even flinched apart from you. We’ve got to get going, Hen wants to get back to Bristol tonight for the boys. Ring me this week. Don’t stress.” A peck on the cheek and she went to round Henry up for their drive home.
“So, that was awkward.” Dean grabbed Jamie’s shoulders as they walked back to their apartment.
“He’s right though. Why did I just launch into being a complete arsehole? I don’t know that artist. I preach about acceptance and understanding. Oh god, I hope Lee doesn’t think less of me. He’s tough to earn respect from as it is. Eight years and I’m still a little unsure. That didn’t help.”
“I think what mum said has some justification. He sees the real ugly side to life through his work. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think sometimes you look at life through rose tinted lenses. I don’t mean the challenges you’ve had in the past, I mean perhaps you’ve worked so hard to get to where you are, you’ve forgotten a little of what it is to struggle. Feel free to rip my head off.” Dean stopped and waited. He was pleasantly surprised.
“I think you’re right. Honestly. I really do. I’ll give him some space but I’ll reach out. And don’t you dare speak on my behalf. This is my issue to mop up you hear?” Jamie grabbed his face and shook his chin.
“You’re the boss.”
They fell together laughing.
“Wouldn’t you miss this? Just walking these streets if we moved? The countryside is beautiful but this city? There’s so much here. So much of us in these pavements, the stations, the bars, the clubs, the parks, the…” Jamie was muzzled by a kiss.
“Shut up. I’m tired. I want to get home and go down on you. And, I don’t miss any of anything if you’re around. I just don’t fucking care.” Dean scrunched Jamie’s jacket collar in his fists.
Jamie felt the firm brush of Dean’s mound. “Oh, I see. Better get home then?”
“I think you should.” Dean nodded.
“See ya!” Jamie sprinted the rest of the way home. Dean chased him all the way into the living room.
They collapsed on the floor in their post sprint breaths. Jamie loved the moments where Dean was impatient. Wrenching his jeans off enough to get to his happy place. Peering up at him while his buckle clattered against the floor boards. The white hot of Dean’s finger work, the moistness of his tongue taking over as the finger withdrew, Jamie shivered every time. Dean’s eyes on Jamie, monitoring him. Go harder, go slower. Surprise him. He knew Jamie by now, his head snapped back, Dean knew not to waste it and dived onto Jamie and let him fill his mouth.
Dean jumped up. A sheen on his lip. “Glass of red?”
“Aren’t you hard? Don’t you want…” Jamie propositioned from his clammy mess on the floor.
“I’m good. I just wanted to make you stop thinking for five fucking minutes. Job done. I fancy a beer.” Dean disappeared. Dean was always a threat to be around. He had no idea how sexual he was. Snapping his Rolex on his wrist. Pulling his belt buckle. Fastening a tie. Heaving groceries up the stairwell. Jamie held a fire for him even just observing the most mundane of tasks. He thought Dean was sexiest when he’d had his fill and walked away from him satisfied. A swagger. Jamie close to speechless. Job done.
A few days later, that Saturday, Jamie checked over his bundle of mail. Fashion party invitations, joint banking junk and one final envelop. From a law firm. Slater Hughes.
There was one person who he could look over this with. For an expert opionion. Dean was out with his rugby friends so the day was his.
Jamie arrived at Millbank and knocked the door. Scuffling of latches at the and then, “Jamie?”
“Yes. The judgemental fashion victim has come to make amends if you’ll have me? I brought coffee.” Jamie held the bag up to the video intercom.
The door opened. “Come in.” Lee walked over to his kitchen counter and sat.
“I come in peace.” Jamie said sheepishly.
“Jamie. I need to apologise. I shouldn’t have snapped like that, especially at a family dinner. That was really awful. I meant what I said. But still…”
“Take this.” Jamie shoved the coffee in front of Lee. He laughed in a short huff. Jamie’s defiance against their spat was disarming. He always found Jamie disarming. “You were right. Yes I’m actually agreeing with you. Don’t gloat. I forgot myself a little the other day. I know you’re close to cases involving people in less than ideal circumstances. You see the ugly side. I shouldn’t have just gone on and on.”
Lee saw it as a partial truth. He wasn’t about to reveal anything so he took the olive branch. “Apology accepted. And sorry for snapping the way I did. Didn’t really call for it.” It did. He knew what Drew had been through. He admitted when he got in from the dinner that he was absolutely, full blown, totally and utterly fucking jealous of Christian. But being Lee, he shoved those feelings right to the back.
“I have an ulterior motive. Can you look over a legal document for me? Dean is a genius but he’s not a legal genius. This is why I married into this family. Diverse skillets.” Jamie giggled and ran, hurdling the sofa.
“I’m sorry about Fiona. I know you were close. I was thinking of you.” Lee offered genuinely.
“Thank you. That means a lot. That brings me to that document. I haven’t read it. It’s some kind of will or at least a part that relates to me.”
“Ok I’ll have a scan and I’ll pull out what I know. Give me a few minutes.” Lee scanned the documents and a smile came over his face. He turned only to see Jamie’s feet hanging over the sofa. Now sat head dangling to the floor. “Uh Jamie, are you ok?”
“Yeah. I like sitting like this. Any news?”
Lee had to laugh. Jamie was the most random person he’d ever encountered. “Maybe sit up or better still come join me over here. You’ll need to pay attention.”
Jamie huffed like a teenager and came to sit by him. “Ok, what is it that I’m dealing with then?”
“Ok, abridged version and I’m by no means a property, familial or business law expert but she’s basically released you.”
“Uh, last time I checked that means sacked?”
“No not in this scenario. Fiona basically met with your clients once she knew she was terminal and advised them of her plans to dissolve the business. She’s gifted you your client book, along with capital to continue or do as you see fit. Jamie, she’s given you your part of the business. Plus this lump sum. Look.”
“Wait, what? I don’t understand. Shit!” Jamie slumped back on his bar stool and his hand met his mouth. “What the hell, this is insane!”
“Not really. In fact I’d say it’s pretty logical. She’s not here to manage a company anymore and given you and the other business leads the freedom to take the clients you have and make it your own. She’s made you freelance overnight. Isn’t that going to allow more time for all your other work? The social media and fashion commitments you’re involved with?”
“I guess. Hey look at you actually knowing stuff about me.” Jamie tapped his arm.
“I do listen. I may not be present all the time, but when I am, I’ll make it my business to know my family’s business.”
“You’re sweet. Ok, I need to tell Dean. My god, that could be a deposit on our country house for god sake, and then some! What an angel she is.”
“Well, get planning, looks like that could happen quicker than you may have thought then. Congrualtions bro.” Lee’s hand came to Jamie’s neck.
“Thanks Lee, that means a lot.”
Jamie left, clutching the documents in his jacket. He got home, put them in the safe and text Dean.
JAMIE: Where are you now? I need to see you.
An immediate reply. Always immediate for Jamie.
DEAN: I left the rugby boys. I’ve met H for a few at Garden Bar. Everything ok? Come meet us.
Jamie checked himself in the mirror and made to meet Dean in the pub that was minutes on foot from their home.
He arrived in the beer garden. The soft overhead glow of the lights strung across the tables. The lush green of the potted trees. The flagstone underfoot. For a moment he forgot he was in the centre of London. He sighed and smiled. He was ready to peer outside of London and see what suburban England could give to them. Trees in the ground, not potted. Flagstones in their kitchen not a beer garden. A soft glow from distant village lamps not lighting up the city.
He grabbed a glass of wine and clocked Dean’s back. Solid, strong. It was eight years since they’d met and Jamie swooned whenever he caught Dean unawares. He was the most beautiful man in any beer garden.
Jami walked toward them, Harry waved at him and Dean spun round. Going from nonchalant to ecstatic when he met Jamie’s eyes.
“Hey beautiful. I missed you today.” Dean nuzzled Jamie’s neck.
“You did huh?” Jamie leaned into him. “Hello Harry baby.”
“Baby boy! We’re due to refil.” Harry walked past, squeezing Jamie’s shoulder.
“I bring news. Fiona left me part of the company. My full client base and a lump sum. Dean, she left me a million. I can go freelance, take on more clients, take the other work even further if I wanted, and we have the freedom to find that house outside of London. We can do it.” Jamie’s smile was painful, it stretched that far.
Dean pulled him in tight. “Fuck babe, what a woman, this is amazing! Thanks Fi!” Dean looked up. “Am I ok to do that now?”
“Yeah you can.” Jamie rubbed his nose with his finger. “You’re so fucking cute when you’re lager drunk.”
"Am I? Well I’m pretty fucking happy at the moment, reasons upon reasons to celebrate. I hope Fiona is happy for you. Don’t forget, you had just as much to do with getting that business to where it is, for her to have been able to do that for you. I’m happy for us but that’s noting compared to how fucking proud I am of you.”
Jamie looked around the bar. The other patrons laughing and dancing subtly. Making plans and gossiping. Before the starting gun of Monday morning shot off again. He loved their life in the city but he knew there was more for them to explore. His eyes came back to Dean’s. “Let’s do it. Let’s get that house. That jeep. And our own little rugby team eventually. Dean, this is it. I’m ready. Ready for us to make that leap. I know it will take time but I’m done talking and daydreaming about it.”
“You are? Are you sure?” Dean’s eyebrows dropped. All these years he was still shocked with happiness that Jamie wanted what he wanted.
“I am. You said the other week. I feel the same. I don’t miss anything anywhere, as long as you’re around.”
“We better get planning our future then.” Dean put his palm to the small of Jamie’s back. His wedding ring sending a shock of cool up Jamie’s spine through his shirt.
“I can’t wait Big Boy.”
Harry came back, they went through their plans and Harry was past thinking about change. He understood these two wonderful souls before him needed their next chapter. Two London landmarks were becoming history in front of him. Jamie listened with wonder at the film’s development. A group of friends making huge plans and basking in each others happiness after misery.
Jamie never forgot Fiona. He carried her. As he promised. And kept her there, as Dean told him to.
Within the year, Jamie and Dean would find that country house. Richard would act on Dean’s advice, proposing on Christmas Day 2018 and a marriage would follow the next summer. Lee’s curiosity and developing jealousy made him decide to conduct some reconnaissance on a private members club and face a ghost.
