Veering off Course by Chris Cheek

Author:Chris Cheek [Cheek, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781999647957
Publisher: 2FM Limited
Published: 2019-02-18T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

David

The sun streamed through the opened curtains. David blinked and woke up to find Alan looking down at him.

“I brought you some tea. It’s time we were moving, old lad.’

“Don’t I get a good morning kiss, then?”

“Of course you do. Anything to oblige,” Alan replied, complying immediately.

David sat up to drink his tea. “Lovely day again,” he said.

“Yeah, much too nice to work – or to wear a suit,” Alan replied, as he donned his office outfit.

“Mind you, you do look sexy when you’re all dressed up,” David grinned.

It was mid-June; this was David’s sixth overnight stay in London. They’d quickly established a pattern for their time together, usually spending quiet evenings in the flat. Alan had been working on an informal programme of gradual education about gay life, providing David with written materials – newspapers and magazines, information leaflets produced by campaign groups and a couple of novels.

David had devoured these enthusiastically and, in the process, come to realise that he was not alone. The issues that he and Alan were facing if they wanted a life together were not unique; counselling and support were available if they needed them. But making that first move was still the impossible bit. How would he get the words out?

“Time’s getting on, young Davy. Time you were up,” Alan said. “Especially if you want some breakfast.”

David headed for the bathroom, pausing to brush Alan’s lips with his own on the way, earning himself a slap on the backside for his pains. Time was indeed getting on, so neither had time to look at the paper, or read the story below the headline Yorkshire Rail Chaos.

The coach station was crammed when David pulled in but he managed to leave on time with a full load. The journey north was uneventful and they reached Sedgethwaite dead on time. It was there that the full effect of the lightning strike by rail crews became apparent: the queue was three-deep on the London stand, and took up nearly half the bus-station concourse. As David unloaded, three coaches from independent operators pulled in and cleared much of the queue, but there were still about forty people standing there.

He said farewell to the last of his passengers and got behind the wheel, ready to take his coach back to the depot. As he reached for the starter, Len Hedges’ head appeared at the cab window. “Well, if it isn’t young Edgeley,” he remarked.

“Hello, Len. How’s tha’ doin’?”

“Fine, fine,” Len replied. “Better still if I could get this London queue shifted.”

“Aye, it’s bad, this rail business.”

“I don’t know as I’d call it bad, especially from our point of view. But I know what you mean.”

“You stuck, then?”

Len nodded. “Aye. I think every coach in Yorkshire’s out – and a good few from other counties as well.”

“Does that mean you’re looking for volunteers?”

Len grinned. “One’d do.”

“Thought so. If my hours’ll be okay.”

“You should make it, but it might be close.”

“Right. Well, this coach will want a quick clean and probably some fuel as well.

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