The Grocers' Son by Garrick Jones

Author:Garrick Jones [Jones, Garrick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FICTION: LGBT / Gay; Mystery & Detective / Historical;
Publisher: MoshPit Publishing
Published: 2022-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 14

The stateroom was already packed by the time I arrived.

The ship was due to sail at half past eleven and I’d decided to walk to Circular Quay from Dr. De Natalis’s office. I’d had an early appoint­ment with her this morning, so had strolled the six blocks to the passenger terminal, stopping to have a coffee and read the newspaper on the way.

When Billy had said that he and Sam had booked the last first-class stateroom aboard the TN Sydney, I’d unconsciously translated the word stateroom into cabin. It was anything but. A large living room, off which was the bedroom, separated by folding wooden doors, which were now fully open to accommodate the twenty or so people who’d come aboard to bid them farewell.

I’d forgotten for a moment how many friends we had in common, delighted to see Warwick Sampson, one of my old friends, who was a doctor at the Prince of Wales hospital, laughing with our nurse pal, Shirley, in the corner. I was about to make my way to them when Margareta, Billy’s sister grabbed me by the arm. It was years since I’d last seen her.

“Clyde, che meraviglia!” she said. “Sei ancora più bello ogni volta che ti vedo.”

I laughed and held her tight. “Thank you, Greta,” I said. “I don’t feel more handsome every time we meet, but I’ll take the compliment. And as for you, you’re looking younger and more glamorous than ever.”

“Such a charmer, Clyde.” She kissed my cheek. “Come, I’ve been chatting to your very handsome lover and your friend, Luka. Where do you find them, my friend?”

“They seem to find me, to be honest.”

“Perhaps you have a spare hanging around for me?”

“Still single?”

“Boh! Either too old, or too young, but mostly too married,” she said.

“I don’t have a lot of square friends, but I’ll see what I can do,” I said.

“Square?”

“It’s the new word for heterosexuals,” I explained.

“I don’t see many of those here,” she quipped, grabbing two glasses of champagne from one of the ship’s stewards who’d been passing around drinks and canapés.

“Maybe not, Greta, but I can guarantee you’ll have a far better time with most of these fellas than you would with men of your own age who are on the lookout for a beautiful woman such as yourself.”

“Why’s that, Clyde?”

“Because men in their mid-thirties who are single and on the prowl are usually second-hand soiled goods, looking for a mistress, or there’s something wrong with them.”

“That’s very judgemental,” she said.

“Convince me from your own experience what I’ve just said isn’t the case?”

“Yes, sadly you’re right. As I said, married, or mamma’s boys, or …”

“Or what?”

“Or more at home here, among you handsome devils, and not able to own up to it to themselves.”

A few minutes after eleven, bells began to sound in the corridor and the ship’s stewards started to make their rounds, asking all visitors to make their way ashore. I’d been catching up with Howard, who’d been delighted to meet Luka again, and

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