L.if.E (BoyxBoy)

Reconciliation

I was six days in hospital for observation as I kept vomiting a lot of the time whenever I moved my head.  During this time I was visited by my mum once, my dad never, Stuart at least once a day, though he would spend the whole time worrying that he might catch something off someone in the ward, Adam every day and Pete every visiting time and staying for the whole duration, the only exception being when my mum was there.

I wasn’t sure if he wanted to stop or if he felt it was his duty to stop, but I didn’t care I just knew he was with me, and not Rachael.  He didn’t converse a great deal, he just said a few things, asked how I was and then he would sit in the chair beside the bed for the whole two hours of visiting.  This happened in the afternoon, 2pm until 4pm and in the evening, 7pm until 9pm and he never arrived late or left early.

As each day came and went, I grew more active and restless, wanting to find out what was happening outside and, more importantly, why Pete was so subdued.  He always looked happy to see me but then after our initial greetings and exchange of gossip he would sit in the chair and look worried or maybe I should say, concerned.

At first, I thought it might be because he felt he had an obligation to be with me and just wanted to let the time go past without too much hassle.  Then I remembered how he had been when I first came around in the hospital, he was fantastic and so pleased to see I was alright and couldn’t help but fuss around me.  These latter days though his sombre mood seemed to increase and I was unsure what to make of them.

Pete’s sombre moods and Stuarts hypochondria sessions started to wear me down a little so I was pleased when the doctors said I could leave the next day.  I would however still need to rest due to the damage to my shoulder, which would take several weeks, and a nurse would visit me daily to ensure I was okay and to sort out the dressings to my cheek and neck and check the plugs in my nose.  I had decided to take up Adam on his offer to stay with him in his small flat until I felt able to cope with home-life, but he was worried about my after care, as he had to work and would not be available every day and so a district nurse was duly arranged.  

Adam really wanted to have me live with him all the time but he couldn’t afford anything bigger than the one room flat he already had.  Therefore, we decided a short stay sharing the same bed would be okay (we were brothers for goodness sake – so no naughty thoughts); though to be honest, to me it would be heaven to be away from dad.

When I was discharged, we arrived at the flat to find the police were already waiting for us.  Adam had arranged for them to wait until I left hospital so I felt more up to it and any possibility that my dad might be about was also avoided.  Therefore, my first visit to Adam’s flat was me being escorted by an elderly policeman and a young police woman, very inconspicuous it wasn’t, and many a net curtain twitched. 

At that time, the police were being regularly berated for the victimisation of homosexuals and for not treating crime associated with “Queer Bashing” as serious.  In fact, they were more likely to arrest the victim for anything they could, as it would be one less “queer” on the street.  Due to this, I had already made the decision not to say what had really happened and just say I got beat up by some guys for no reason other than encroaching on their “patch” at the car park. 

I said I had no idea who they were because I was attacked from behind and they pulled a cloth bag over my head as they beat me.  It did get close when they asked what car the guys had been in and how did I get up there in the first place and why was I there anyway, all alone. 

I felt very uncomfortable telling them a pack of lies, but it was better than telling them the truth.  Mainly because everyone would discover my “gay” secret and I even felt they might well have arrested me for lewd behaviour or something.