The Magnificent Sons: ‘Funny, beautifully observed and moving’ - Adam Kay by Justin Myers

Author:Justin Myers [Myers, Justin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Little, Brown Book Group
Published: 2020-10-27T00:00:00+00:00

fourteen.

His dad’s words that being gay was a ‘lonely life’ had been ringing in Jake’s ears ever since that first night. He resolved to break that curse by talking to as many people as possible. Emboldened by what Evan called Jake’s ‘cheap white wingman’ (wine) or his ‘belchy butch buddy’ (beer), Jake’s customary aloofness was relegated to a mere guest star. Once lubricated, and, not before, he would say hello and chat freely with whoever happened to be in his vicinity – whether they liked it or not. To his surprise, most of them did.

Not that he was quite out of the woods at first. For weeks, he clung to the familiar and would only drink in the bar where he’d first reunited with Evan – scene of his attempted outing by Hannah; so much for finding his own way – but one night Evan warned him he could look at those curling posters and sit on sticky leatherette no longer, a change was coming. They were just leaving when a slightly tipsy Jake went bowling into one of the tall tables at the exit, at which sat a man on a stool, with a bottle of Prosecco in an ice bucket and two glasses, one of which slopped some of its contents on to the table top. He was older, rounder and more world-weary than everyone else in the room. Enter Bertie – brand-new friend number one.

Dismissing the men’s apologies, Bertie swigged from what was left in his glass and took the bottle in his hand, hovering over the second glass. ‘Make it up to me by having a drink with an old man who’s bored out of his tits. We can ask for a third.’

‘We were just—’

‘Tell me to get fucked if you like’ – the F-word made Jake gasp; he looked far too refined for swearing – ‘but I’m not trying to pick you up. I prefer men with more timber in the hold and less … straw on the roof. And, yes, I’m mixing up my analogies there.’

Jake laughed. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I’m saying I don’t like my bananas green. You’re safe. Take a seat, gentlemen.’

They sat. Bertie was fifty-one. ‘In dog years, I’m dead.’ Divorced twice. ‘Lady the first time. Very sad, but mercifully brief. She got custody of the Kenwood mixer. No other issue, thank God. Second time? The love of my life. That ring on my finger, however, drained my battery and when he’d powered up, he was off.’

Jake laughed but was aware this was a performance; Bertie’s supposed nonchalance came from a place of pain – there was still the tiniest trace of it in his eyes.

Jake felt a connection, and, falteringly at first, explained his own situation. Bertie nodded wisely. ‘I could tell you were new.’

Jake suppressed a flutter of irritation – that old thing about being worked out before you were ready; people really loved that take, didn’t they? Even so, he couldn’t resist asking what gave him away.

Bertie tittered. ‘You joined me.

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