Goodmans Hotel by Alan Keslian

Author:Alan Keslian [Alan Keslian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Gay, Romance, Contemporary
Publisher: Feedbooks
Published: 2010-08-17T04:00:00+00:00

In the morning as soon Tom began to move I got out of bed and dressed. We went upstairs together and found three of the Newcastle group in the dining room, sprawling on their chairs reading Sunday papers. ‘Are the others still out partying?’

‘No, they’ve gone up to bed. They don’t have our stamina. Two of them are Mackem boys anyhow. You don’t expect Mackems to keep up with Geordies.’

‘Two of them are what?’

‘Mackem boys, it’s a Geordie expression for someone from Sunderland. Have you never been outside London, man? Even people from Durham know that.’

‘No orientals this morning?’

‘Oh there were continentals last night all right. I met this beautiful Chinese boy from Hong Kong, he was a real golden boy in every sense of the word. I wish I could take him back up north with me. A couple of nights in the London clubs leaves you a bit tired, mind; I don’t know how people living down here cope with it, all the activity night after night.’

Tom, not having entirely grasped the humour intended by their use of the word continental, said, ‘Mark’s already told you, a Chinese boy is an oriental, not a continental.’

‘Ah – and if he’s an oriental, what does that make me, an occidental?’

Not understanding, Tom shrugged and pulled a face. ‘What d’you mean, doesn’t make you anything, does it?’

‘I’m no accidental, my parents intended me, I was planned.’

‘What about Darren?’ I asked. ‘Did he get back all right?’

‘He was having a great time. He’s got a lovely way of moving his limbs around, that boy, last we saw he was dancing with someone. They probably left together.’

‘You took him to the club; you should have made sure he got home safe,’ Tom said, irritated.

‘He was enjoying himself. We weren’t going to spoil his chances. What are you, his godfather?’

‘If he’d been with me I’d have took proper care of him.’

‘Well take him to the club yourself next time then.’

We assumed Darren had returned during the night and gone safely up to bed. After giving them breakfast we ate our own lighter meal in the kitchen. They finished and went up to their rooms long before anyone else came down. The well spoken couple from room four came down at the latest possible moment, a heavy fug from over indulgence the night before robbing them of their customary polished manners. They knocked a full glass of orange juice over the table, lamely trying to dab the spillage with serviettes until I brought them a clean table cloth.

Sundays can be tiring because clearing away after breakfast can take until eleven, leaving only a couple of hours free before preparations begin for the main meal of the day in the afternoon. With the cook and a part-time waiter hired in for the afternoon, the main meal was just manageable. I helped out as needed, showing people to their tables and going round later to ask if the food was all right. Tom, Andrew, and – when

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