Second Chance(8)

Okay see you then.



Before meeting Nate, Jack took more care with his appearance than he had done in weeks. He trimmed his beard back to neater-looking stubble and plucked a few stray eyebrow hairs. Looking critically at himself in the bathroom mirror, he ran his hands through his mop of hair. Still thick despite his age, the dark was threaded with a generous amount of silver. He was long overdue a haircut, maybe he’d visit a barber next week.

He dressed casually. They were only going out to a pub, so jeans seemed appropriate. Jack paired them with a T-shirt under a soft grey jumper, rather than the old black hoodie he’d been living in for weeks.

As two o’clock approached he was on edge waiting for the doorbell to ring. He was excited about seeing Nate, but anxious too. Resisting the urge to pace, he sat on the sofa in the living room trying to focus on reading an article in The Sunday Times Magazine, while his father sat beside him doing the cryptic crossword and his mother knitted in the armchair by the fireplace. The only sounds in the room were the crackle of the fire and the quiet clicking of his mum’s knitting needles.

The sound of car tyres crunching on the gravel driveway outside made Jack’s nerves spike. “That’ll be Nate. We’re going out for a drink,” he said, closing his magazine, and standing abruptly. “Non-alcoholic for me of course,” he added.

“Oh. Well have a nice time, darling,” She said her voice carefully neutral. “Will you be back for dinner?”

“I think so.”

“See you later then.”

Jack’s father didn’t raise his head from the crossword.

Grabbing his coat from the hooks on the way past, Jack was shrugging into it as the doorbell rang. He opened the door. “Hi. I was just on my way out. I heard your car.”

“Hi.” Nate stood on the doorstep. Jack stared for a moment, taking in Nate’s appearance for the first time. He was handsome, and he looked much younger than his forty-five years. His previously blond hair was silver at the sides, and there were flecks of silver in his stubble too. If it weren’t for that, he could have passed for late twenties. A flicker of attraction took Jack by surprise.

“Shall we go straight out?” Jack asked. He wasn’t keen to invite Nate in after the conversation he’d had with his parents last night.

“Yes, okay.”

Nate led the way to the mud-splattered VW Polo that stood on the drive. “Sorry about the state of the car, it smells of dog, and I don’t think my mum’s ever cleaned either the interior or the exterior since she bought it.”

“That’s okay. I’m not a neat freak,” Jack said as he opened the passenger door and got in.

“I remember,” Nate said with a grin, sliding in behind the wheel. “Unless you’ve changed a lot. Your bedroom always looked like something had exploded in it.”

Jack chuckled, his nerves lifting a little. “Yeah. It still looks like that.” It was true that it did at the moment. Jack’s tendency was towards creating mess and clutter. He’d suppressed that while he was with Miles, because Miles was insanely house proud and couldn’t deal with Jack’s slovenly ways. Now he was single again he’d drifted back to his natural state.

Nate started the car. “So, I was thinking of going to The White Hart in Lower Acton, is that okay with you?”

“Yes, fine.” Jack remembered the name of the pub but he didn’t think he’d ever been there. When they were teens they usually drank in the Marlham pubs. Most of the landlords there didn’t bother asking for ID back in those days—and even if they did, they didn’t scrutinise them too closely.

“Okay.” Nate finished a masterful three-point turn, and pulled out of the driveway. “Let’s go.”





Three





As he drove, Nate could feel the tension rolling off Jack. It made him nervous too.

Maybe this had been a stupid idea. They were essentially strangers now, so why were they even bothering with this? Nate might have changed in more obvious ways than Jack, but Jack was unfamiliar to him too. The fun-loving, affectionate boy Nate had known had grown up into this complicated man, sadness hanging around him like the mist that gathered in the river estuary on winter mornings. Yet occasionally when Jack smiled, Nate could see the boy he’d known.

The boy he’d loved.

“It’s a nice day today,” Nate said, desperate to break the silence between them. Low in the vivid blue sky, the winter sun was dazzling him, so he tilted down the sunshield to cut the glare.

“Yes. It’s much better than yesterday.”

They talked inanely about the weather for a while. It was amazing how long you could spin out tedious small talk if you tried hard enough.

Nate found himself regretting the offer to drive. If they’d gone to the local pub at least they could have both had some alcohol to grease the conversational wheels. But Nate hadn’t been in the mood for dealing with the inevitable stares he’d get if there was anyone there who recognised him. The White Hart was a safer bet. Lower Acton was only six miles away, but there was very little overlap between the villages. Hopefully there he’d be able to fly under everyone’s radar and not worry about being outed by someone who knew his history.

There was plenty of space in the car park, and although the pub was busy with people finishing off Sunday lunch, there was no queue at the bar.