Crying (2)

‘C’mon you two!’ Gareth shouted from the driver’s seat of his dad’s cast off beat-up van. ‘In the back, with Tom; hop to it would ya!’ he called, as Rob and Padric ambled out the front door to the blasting sound of a cowboy show on the flickering greyscale TV.
Padric hopped along trying to tie his shoelaces and eat a doorstop sandwich. And Rob popped his head in the open window blowing kisses at Selwyn-Parry until he saw a girl sitting beside him.
‘Hello,’ she laughed, scrunching down to get a good look at Rob.
‘My sister Lillian,’ Gareth sighed. ‘She’s replacing that bloody useless gidget Marianne, who dropped out.’ He called out of the window at Padric as he hopped passed, ‘Bloody Convent girls!’
‘Hello Lillian,’ Rob said after he clambered into the back of the van ahead of Padric. Squeezing by Tom Barton and the band’s back-up speakers and cables piled high around them, he added, ‘You’re looking real nice.’
Lillian hunched her shoulders and grinned with delight.
‘Yeah, well.’ Gareth moaned. ‘Just as well she could fit the frock, innit!’
‘Mum had to let it out at the bust,’ Lillian demonstrated. ‘You’d not notice.’
The back of the van did notice, and liked. ‘Oh! Do put them away, would you.’ Gareth pushed Tom into the back and toppled him over Padric.

Ed Maxwell was pacing outside the rear entrance to the Church Hall as they pulled in. He took nervous drags at his cigarette. ‘I don’t know,’ Ed stormed over to Rob when he tumbled out of the van wrapped up in Padric. ‘Look, are you sure?’
Rob dusted off the grit. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked before he looked at Ed.
‘I mean a band, OK.’ Ed blurted out. ‘Be Bopper girls, too.’ He looked at Lillian and paused for moment. ‘But fiddles!’ He threw his hands out.
Rob took hold of Ed at the elbows and realised he was trembling. ‘It’ll be fine, we all know what we’re doing.’ The band looked at Lillian. ‘It’ll be fine.’
‘What the bloody fuck!’ Gareth exploded when Ed had left them to ferry his group to the party. ‘If he’s that bad at the engagement party, what the bloody hell will he be like at the wedding? Jesus!’ His sister landed a wicked smack on the back of his head for the final bad word, and they all fell apart laughing.
The hall was spacious, it was sparkling, and it was spot on for a local paper plug. Everyone would be there, the whole family and more. Rob hadn’t been surprised his parents knew so many people in Brighton and London, but he was slightly surprised that they’d all bother turning out for an engagement party.
Father Wigfield-Hayes was dominating the scene in all his five-foot-two dynamo way. ‘You, Robert Neil!’ his beady eyes fell on Rob, and shivers of guilt coursed through him. The priest wagged an index finger at him, so Rob walked over at first in a swagger but ending in a hang-dog humility. ‘So, kindly explain yourself.’
Rob shrugged. ‘We’ve been busy.’ He thought of pointing to the set up, but he knew that would cut no ice with the man who was piercing his soul.
‘No excuse.’ The priest snapped. ‘You know,’ he softened his voice slightly, ‘that nothing can separate you from the love of God.’ The warning index finger shot up once more, ‘And you must allow nothing to come between you and the Sacraments. Nothing!’ Wigfield-Hayes caught hold of Padric as he tried to sneak by. ‘You too, O’Casey. I haven’t seen you since you used to serve my Mass, but you needn’t think I’ve forgotten you. big and all as you think you are now.’
‘Sorry, Father,’ Gareth intervened. ‘We need to get set up before more arrive.’
‘Of course, my son. I’ll see you both for instruction on Thursday as usual?’
Gareth nodded. Rob and Padric looked at him then at each other, their mouths gapping. ‘Well?’ Selwyn-Parry shifted uneasily. ‘Get up there will you!’

The local Catholic Clubs had a reputation for booze, bingo and ballsy footballers. St Aloysius was no different. All three pass-times were well represented in the bodies already milling around the hall in excited mood, waiting for things to start in earnest.
One of the older generation of footballers smacked Rob hard on the back. ‘Your dad’s a great man, you know that!’
Rob nodded, but wondered if they meant the same person.
‘I served with him at Cassino, you know that. Wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for him. And he helped set me up just down the road after the war. A great man.’
Rob smiled, smelling the whiskey on the man’s breath. But his attention had wandered, he was concentrating on a face he recognised. Tad Janiak.
He’d been beautiful as a schoolboy, but now his blond hair, blue eyes and simple good humour made him an irresistible young man. Rob was about to make his excuses to the old man beside him, so he could investigate Tad. Perhaps he’d even ask if he recalled the time Rob had sucked Tad’s cock in the school changing rooms.
To his shock Thaddeus came up to them with a broad grin, not to see Rob but to kiss the old man and speak to him in Polish.
‘You remember my Tad?’ The man said to Rob, ‘he’s college now, at Oxford. He started there last Michaelmas term, know you.’
Rob and Tad shook hands and it was like a year hadn’t passed. The same shy interest struck them both. ‘You took the Classics scholarship, didn’t you?’ Rob said, though he already knew the answer.
Tad just smiled and blushed a nod. ‘I thought you were sitting the Sciences.’
Rob blushed too. He was due to sit for the award, but he bunked off with Johnny Barton for their first whirlwind tour with a crazy band of musicians.
‘Shame about your brother though,’ Tad’s father went on, not recognising the looks being shared by his son and Rob. ‘I was saying,’ he stopped another old footballer. ‘Shame about young Ray Neil.’
‘Terrible waste,’ the man agreed. ‘Fantastic striker. He was talented too.’
‘He was due to sign as a junior, you know that?’ The two men looked at Rob.
‘Amazing though, how much he looks like his elder brother.’
‘But Tad’s always been better than me at football,’ Rob gave him a sporting hug.
Tad’s blush spread down his neck.
‘Hey! Tad,’ Padric bounced over. ‘Long time, eh! Anyway, I think Ed wants to sort of get things rolling soon.’ Padric all but dragged Rob from Tad’s side. ‘See you later, Tad? Mr Janiak.’ He added under his breath, ‘Maybe not.’

Just as Rob had said, everything was fine. Even Lillian rose to the occasion, taking the lead in a floor-filling Shirelles medley while Tom and Rob sorted out a slight and largely unnoticed technical hitch - a tipsy reveller had pulled out a couple of cables from the amplifiers as he tripped around searching for the toilets.
‘Who does he think he is? Matt bloody Monro!’ The drunk bawled at Thaddeus Janiak who was trying to lead him away from the stage. ‘Now he can sing!’ The man was about to give his full-lunged rendition of Portrait Of My Love when Tad finally persuaded him to do his business outside.
‘Thanks,’ Rob smiled genuinely grateful.
Tad shrugged but stayed on to smile back at Rob.
‘Eh-hem!’ Tom Barton coughed. ‘Sorry to interrupted the reunion, guys. But Poddy’s mouthing A-You’re Adorable.’ Tom pursed his lips in fake kisses. ‘I think he means you Rob.’ Tom gave Tad a wink and he hustled Rob back up onto the stage.
‘What were you up to back there?’ Padric snapped at Rob as he passed him.
Rob blew him a kiss.

‘We’re going to give a little break to the band,’ Rob said into the microphone as a piano was wheeled forward and polite clapping thanked them. ‘Oh! and the girls too,’ he bowed at the Mathis Sisters and wolf-whistles joined the applause.
‘Mrs Whittle, our very own Winifred Atwell,’ loud cheers, ‘will give us a sing-a-long at the old jo-anna.’ Susan was hoisted up on to the stage to stand beside Rob. ‘And to start us off my sweetheart sister,’ again wolf-whistles echoed over the renewed clapping. ‘Please! She’s gorgeous, but she’s well and truly snapped up.’ Groans greeted the news. ‘Her intended, Ed,’ Rob pointed him out, ‘is also going to give us a warble or two.’ His footballing mates howled out loud but also applauded him.
Rob nodded at Mrs Whittle and she gave them a professional introduction, then the floor filled with a mixed range of dancers once again. But the younger ones pressed up to the stage as he and Susan gave them their party pieces.
As soon as he could he left the stage to Susan and Ed. Rather than join the lads for a smoke break in the car park Rob headed for Tad at the bar. The drinks were already in; Tad handed Rob a pint of lager with a knowing grin that they’d shared before.
‘You probably don’t know,’ Tad smiled over at a girl in the crowd and held out his hand to her. ‘This is Marie. Marie meet Rob.’
‘You have a really lovely voice, Rob,’ Marie cooed.
Rob tried to appear grateful, but his eyes automatically fell back on Tad.
‘Marie and I have set a date, haven’t we sweetness?’ Tad kissed his future wife.
‘Well, we want to finish the degrees first, naturally.’
‘That’ll be June 1963!’ Tad cuddled into Marie.
‘It’ll fly by, darling.’
Ed’s voice suddenly filled the hall. A Certain Smile crooned out, winning Tad and Marie for the dance floor. Rob had cheered them, but he felt sick in the pit of his stomach. He looked back in at Ed and felt his schoolboy crush stir up wild emotions, as though Ed sang looking straight at him: ‘A certain face can lead an unsuspecting heart on a merry chase..’ Rob left his drink and went for some fresh air.
Helen Philips was walking toward him when he headed out to the car park. Tears were welling in her eyes.
‘What’s the matter, babes.’ Rob stopped her.
She shook her head, but Rob insisted on an explanation. ‘It’s Will,’ she said; Rob had suspected as much. ‘He can be so insensitive with me sometimes.’ A little sob choked at her throat. ‘He doesn’t mean it, I know that, but I..’ Again she shook her head, and she straightened out the layers of her petticoats.
Rob turned round and walked back into the hall with Helen, giving her a friendly little hug. Then she, Susan, Ed and he sat at a table sipping fizzy drinks and talked until it was time for the show’s finale.

Charlie Grayston turned up with the Mayor and some photographers from the local rags; a couple of hacks also sniffled around, hoping for more than a human interest story.
They took pictures of Ed and Susan, of course, but they concentrated on Rob, the band, the girls, and even the violinists and Mrs Whittle, as the younger set went wild for a Presley-esque end to the evening - his own sister, Susan, demonstrated her approval with a little squeal when Rob did an Ahuhnhun in You Don’t Know What You Got.
Suddenly it was all gone. The rush was over and the lights were doused. Only Padric and Rob remained outside the darkened Church Hall. They had agreed to walk home so that Gareth could drop off the girls and Tom Barton on the way.
Neither Rob nor Padric wanted to move. Instead they chose to lean on a wall and allow silence to halt the excited buzz in their ears.
Padric yawned, and growing tired of the quiet he tried to strike up a conversation with Rob. ‘It’s not as cold as it was earlier.’
Rob just stared at him as though the words were babbled by an invading Alien.
‘Tad Janiak looked well,’ Padric started again, but with less enthusiasm.
‘He’s getting married,’ Rob replied, though he said it to himself.
‘To that girl he was with?’ Padric asked, but since he didn’t want to look as pleased as he sounded he turned his face from Rob. ‘Is she from his college, or what?’
‘Marie?’
‘I guess. Is that her name? Would you believe His Latest Flame!’
Rob smiled at Padric’s attempts to draw him from the black mood that threatened to engulf him. He patted Padric’s nose with a finger. ‘Don’t you be wicked.’
‘Awh! Why?’ Padric put on a fake sulk. ‘You know I’m at my sexiest when I’m being wicked!’ He was too. Even without trying, he exuded a tense got-to-move lust. ‘Say!’ Padric leaned forward, frowning. ‘Didn’t Will take Helen home?’
Rob followed the line of Padric’s vision to bottom of the road. ‘So far as I know, yes.’ Rob affirmed, though he couldn’t see what that had to do with Padric’s frown.
‘Oh, well. Must have been someone else.’
Rob looked back at the street corner. There was a distinct shadow there, but whose he couldn’t say. ‘Let’s make a move, eh?’

Although Rob lived fairly close to St Aloysius’ church, they wandered closer to the road leading to Padric’s house. Neither of them said why, but they both knew the reason.
The streets had emptied except for cats rattling over bin lids and the occasional dog taking his owner for a walk. It was along a copse path favoured by dog walkers that Padric lead and Rob followed, after a little hesitation.
‘It’s OK,’ Padric drew Rob away from the dim shine of distant lights.
For Rob there was something shocking about a beer-swilling, football-playing, girl-fucking straight boy like Padric knowing this sleazy underbelly of Brighton’s queer night life, let alone that it was ‘OK’ as a place to make out. A chance meeting in a public toilet, now that could be OK. Somehow it seemed more of an innocent discovery for a straight guy than making the deliberate choice to go down this dogshite alley.
‘Do you come here often?’ Rob asked without thinking.
‘Why? You giving me a chat-up line, then?’ Padric laughed.
Rob felt Padric’s groin, his meat was engorged and up like flagpole. ‘You know,’ Rob almost giggled with a release of nervous energy, ‘I just might be.’
In the glow of moonlight they embraced and slowly, very slowly, they grew together in a kiss. As Padric stood on an inclining bank, he looked down on Rob. He clinched Rob even tighter to him, forcing Rob to curve his back just to accommodate the probing press of Padric’s mouth - and to avoid having his neck snapped in two.
Short of breath, Rob gasped free of Padric’s lips, but only for a moment. The bulge in Padric’s trousers had given Rob’s hands an interest other than back of Padric’s neck, and with renewed kisses he felt his own dick twitch into full excitement.
Padric noticed it, because he too had begun to run his hands over Rob’s body. With a swift movement he unzipped Rob’s flies and groped inside to release his dick and balls. Padric shrugged Rob off so that he could go down on him straight away.
‘Why are you staring at me?’ Padric asked from his crouching position before Rob’s exposed privates. ‘It’s not as like this is the first time.’
‘You’re just so good at it,’ Rob said in amazement. ‘Almost like you love it.’
‘That’s .. ‘cause .. I do,’ Padric mumbled between licking, sucking and swallowing Rob’s cock. Pulling back with a loud smack, he looked up at Rob’s shadowed face and added, ‘I really do. Fucking crazy, like! But I really do.’

It was dark, yet the air breathed a little warmth amid the falling leaves. The sound of footsteps nearby made them withdraw further into the cover of the sparse trees. Rob and Padric walked to the edge of a quagmire pool and stopped to listen if they were being followed. The clear air allowed sounds to drift in on them with a hazy drunken stupor, but they were satisfied that they were finally alone.
Rob gazed at Padric, before he felt two hands push against the back of his neck. He fell into a low crouch and immediately set to working on Padric’s cock. It leapt out at him with such a jolt that he jumped back a little.
Padric roared and Rob gave a shy but happy chuckle. He didn’t waste any time, however, for even with his giggles he plunged onto Padric’s pulsing meat. But rather than gorge on it, it gave it close attention - the kind that drove Padric to close to jizzing. Between kisses to his bollocks and tender licks to the shaft, Rob peeled back Padric’s long loose foreskin to make love to his exposed, almost bursting knob.
‘Finger me,’ Padric pleaded, bending at the knees so that Rob could get access to his hole ‘I want to feel it in there when I come.’
The distant glare of a car’s headlights fell on them, so Rob could see Padric’s face as he lubed his fingers with spit and toyed his way inside. He saw Padric’s face twist in the pull of agonising ecstasy, so he dove right in front of him pulling his knob into his mouth and he yanked at it with one hand until hot spurts of sperm blasted to the back of his throat.
As Rob rose at Padric’s insistence, he felt Padric grab the back of his head pulling Rob back up to his face. Before Rob had a chance to swallow all the spunk in his mouth, Padric pressed deep into it with a longing embrace; and in that embrace Rob’s balls rose then loosed an uncontrollable orgasmic spew into Padric’s wandering hands. Padric licked the seed off one hand, offering the other to Rob; he even licked some spunk from Rob’s chin before giving him a last lingering kiss. Then he swallowed Rob’s and his own cum with a devilish grin,
Laughing, they wrestled each other mouth to mouth. When they couldn't breathe, they pulled apart.

‘My legs are shaking,’ Padric confessed as he and Rob stopped at the end of the copse path. Rob’s legs trembled too, but something held him back from saying so.
‘Want me to see you to the end of this road?’ Rob asked.
‘Nah!,’ Padric threw a pretend punch. ‘Get you on home, I’ll run the rest of the way from here - it might stop the shaking in the knee bones!’
Rob walked around the copse, not trusting himself to its darkness. But before he could think of anything other than Padric’s seemingly unending madness, an arm reached out of the dark and grabbed him. Rob’s heart leapt, pounding wildly.
‘I saw you last night,’ Will Mallon said.
‘Yeah! I said hello, didn’t I?’ Rob snapped.
‘Why are you doing this?
Rob shrugged.
Will looked away from him, then turned to face him.
Standing square on, face to face, a car pulled up beside them. Ed Maxwell leaned out. ‘You guys need a lift home?’ He asked over his radio blaring music into the night.
‘Please,’ Rob answered.
Will just looked at Rob.
Rob pulled away from Will’s hold, but touched his hand briefly. ‘So long,’ he whispered, as he moved toward Ed’s car. Looking back before he slammed the door, he could see Will was crying.