I got ready and went back to Piccadilly Circus a few hours later to meet Ben. He gave me the name of the place to meet and he was already waiting when I walked in. He stood up as I approached him. He opened up his arms and gave me a hug.
'Had a good day?' he asked me.
I told him about everything that had happened since I last saw him; dinner with Walter, the man standing outside window again and my breakfast at Oscar's. I then started to tell him about the day I'd had and all the places we'd been.
'We?' he said. 'Am I missing something?' Before I could answer, he gasped and said, 'You haven't met Alex have you?'
I laughed. 'Don't you think that would have been the first thing I told you if I had?'
'I guess so,' he said. 'So you went out with Gladys or Walter?'
'No,' I said. 'I went with James.'
He looked shocked. 'James is here?' he asked.
'Yeah,' I said. 'I carried him around in my phone all day.'
'Oh,' he said laughing, 'right.'
'So where are you taking me tonight?'
'No solid plans. I thought we could have a few round here then head off into Soho.'
'Cool.'
From the moment I'd first met Ben, it was quite obvious how good he looked it a T-shirt and a pair of skinny jeans. He clearly spent a good amount of time in the gym and wore clothes that showed that off. I appreciated that, of course. He put the work in and my eyes got the benefit. It was a selfless act.
Tonight's outfit was no different. His plain white tee clung to his body, showing off every ripple in his chest and stomach. His thick (but not too thick arms) seemed to squeeze out of sleeves that were too small for him, putting his muscles on display and framing them. Tonight he wore faded blue skinny jeans, with turn-ups and red hi-top trainers. He looked amazing, as always. In a way I wished he didn't. After the way I had thought about him the previous night I couldn't help noticing these things even more so. It was a complication I didn't need.
We finished our drinks there and moved on to the next place. He was always the one who went to the bar, as I was too scared get ID'd.
'So you've known James for like ever?' he said.
'Yeah,' I said, ever since we were little kids.'
'Do you remember me from Uncle Pete's wedding?'
I remembered the wedding he was talking about. It was James' uncle and I was allowed to go with him, as there weren't many other kids there and his parents didn't want him getting bored. We would gave probably been about eight or nine at the time.
'You were there?' I asked. It seemed like a stupid question as soon as I asked it. They were related. It was more likely he would have been there than me.
'Yeah,' he said. 'It didn't click at first when we met. But I just thought about it the other day. You'd only have been really young then.'
'Yeah it was ages ago.'
'I was probably about twelve or thirteen at the time. I hated the fact that I had to be there. All my friends were hanging out together that weekend, and I had to dress up and be there with my family. It was the last thing I wanted to do.'
'I don't really remember much about it,' I said.
'Me neither to be honest. It just occurred to me that you might have been there.'
'You and James must be really close,' I said. 'Was it good to have someone else who was gay I'm your family?
'Not really,' he said. 'I mean, we get on okay. I love him and everything, like you're meant to love your family. But we never really hang out or anything. I'd already come out to my family before it was probably even a thought in his head. There's more than three years between us, so we had different groups of friends.'
'Did you go to our school?
'No. My family live at the other side of Sheffield. Maybe if we had lived nearer growing up, or were just a bit closer together in age we might have been closer.'
'I'm the same age as James. We're hanging out together, aren't we? Why is that any different?'
'Because it is different when you get older. The age gap between us seems bigger when you're younger. You're in a completely different point in your life. But when I talk to you, it feels like I'm just hanging out with one of my mates. We have stuff in common because we like doing the same kind of things.'
'You mean guys?'
We both laughed.
'Yeah, I guess that's part of it,' he said.
'Maybe you should try hanging out with him now you're older. If you get on with me, then I've no doubt you'd get on with him too. It might be nice having a good friend in your own family.'
'I'd really like that,' he said. 'I'll give him a call when I go back home.'
'Shouldn't you be back home already? It is the summer holidays.'
'I should, but I told my parents I had a job here, so I wasn't able to get the time off.'
'Why? Don't you want to see your family?'
He thought about it for a second. 'I do,' he said, 'and I will. I'll probably just go back for the last couple of weeks. It's just hard going back home after living on my own. I can do what I want here, but when I'm at home I have to live by my mum's rules.'
'Don't you get on with her?' I asked him.
'I do,' he said, 'but she likes things doing a certain way. She thinks I'm still a kid. She wants me home to have dinner with the family each evening. And if I go out at night, she's calling me at about eleven or twelve asking when I'll be home. It used to drive me mad when I lived there, but now I've lived alone, it's hard going back to being told what to do again.'
'So you make a job up so you don't have to go?'
'I know what you're thinking; I'm the worst person in the world. I don't spend time with my cousin and I make things up so I don't have to spend time with my parents. Don't you ever feel like that about your mum and dad?'
I shook my head. 'My mum is usually still going on a night outwhen I'm ready to go home. She loves going out to dance, especially to gay clubs.'
'That's so cool. What about your dad?'
'My dad died. Car crash.'
'Oh shit, man! Im sorry, I didn't know. And here I am going on about how my parents drive me mad. I know I should appreciate what I've got.'
'It's okay. Even though he's gone now, I know I was dealt a good hand when it came to the family I was born into. My dad was really cool. He always accepted me just the way I was. I know a lot of people never have that.'
'He sounds amazing.'
'He was.'
There was a moment's silence between us as we both contemplated the conversation we'd just had. Ben was the first person to speak again.
'So James never told you anything about me?'
'No,' I said. 'I thought it was a bit strange, but now you've explained everything, it makes more sense.' I thought about it for a second before saying, 'Hang on. You told me that James had told you all about me. Is that true?'
He shook his head. 'No. I knew a lot about you as he's always posting selfies of you together on Facebook and Instagram. He messaged me the day before you came to London, asking me if I'd meet you. He was worried you'd do something stupid and end up getting yourself killed. Now I know you, I can see what he means.'
'Hey!' I said, giving him a shove and laughing.
'I'm only joking,' he said. 'I'm glad he did. I wouldn't know you otherwise.'
'I'm glad he did too,' I said. Then something else occurred to me. 'But that day we met at the station, you didn't know who I was. If you'd seen pictures of me, you would have known.'
'Got me there,' he said. 'I've got a bit of a confession to make.'
'Go on.'
'Well when James asked me to meet you, I looked you up on social media before agreeing to it. I wanted to make sure you weren't a weirdo, or anything. I didn't want you to think I was some kind of stalker when we met, so I pretended I didn't know you.'
'No way! You're such a stalker.' I playfully shoved him with my shoulder again.
'Yeah, well. Turns out I was wrong anyway; you are a weirdo. Pictures can be so deceiving.'
Before I got the chance to shove him again, he slammed his empty bottle on the table. 'Come on,' he said. 'Let's go into Soho.'