After Edward

"I'll be back about six," I called back from the open door just as one of the tenants from upstairs was coming down the communal staircase. She didn't say anything but gave me a glance as if to show that she thought I'd got someone indoors. My blush must have made me look guilty and I wondered whether she was thinking, 'so soon after his friend's death and now he's got someone else'.

I pondered on that as I took the Underground to the West End where I worked. Of course there was no one in the flat, and no one likely to be, but would it have been 'soon' if I had wanted to bring someone back? It had been months since Edward had died. How long exactly? I worked it out. Seven and a half months, give or take a few days. Of course some people mourned for years. Look at Queen Victoria. Her Prince Albert died in 1861 and she never really came out of mourning until she died in 1901, that was forty years, though of course there had been the 'relationship' with John Brown, whatever that consisted of.

The train was full and I was strap-hanging surrounded by morning commuters who were forced into intimate contact. Some tried to ignore the intimacy; others perhaps enjoyed the contact. I was suddenly aware that someone standing with his back to me was pressing his backside into my groin. I tried to move away but the crush was too much. I couldn't see the guy full face but from the back and side he was young and not unattractive. It was obvious that he was pushing intentionally. Though the train moved, his body movement was much too pointed to be unintentional. I started to get an erection. It was months of course since I'd had any sexual release, or even wanted one. Now my body was reacting and the guy could obviously feel my hardness for he pushed even more and moved his buttocks against my cock. He turned his head and smiled. His hand snaked back and grasped me between my legs and I felt a sexual shock of pleasure, something which I hadn't felt for ages.

I shouldn't be doing this, I thought, Edward wouldn't like it and then I realised how stupid that was. Edward probably would have liked it. He'd have come home and told me what had happened and we'd have laughed about it together. But of course nothing was going to happen here and the train drew into Green Park station, people started to push to get out and it was my station anyway. I gave my 'friend' a smile and he patted my cock before we parted forever.

I emerged into the sunlight. On the other side of the railings the grass looked green and lush. Parks are the lungs of London and this one was at the moment anyway overcoming the petrol and diesel fumes from the street. It was almost like being in the country. Some pigeons strutted on the grass and a blackbird sang in the branches of a tree. I suddenly felt the urge to walk in but of course I didn't.

My boss said, "Glad to see you're getting on top of the work, Mark. I'm looking for someone to visit our Dover branch next month just to check on things. If you feel up to it, perhaps you'd like to go."

I made enthusiastic noises feeling that I'd been letting him down over the past months and that anyway Dover, not a very exciting town but at least by the sea, would be a change, and perhaps a welcome one. I did quite a bit of work that day.

That night true to my promise, I took Teddy to the bedroom and sat him at the foot of the bed. I'd told him about the guy on the train and also about Dover and, it seemed to me, he'd looked approving. I slept beautifully.

Saturday evening I went round to Ross's flat. His sister was an almost exact replica of him, slim with dark, short hair and deep blue eyes. Only his slightly squarer jaw line and, obviously the masculine shape of his body made the difference. "Polly and I are twins," said Ross. I hadn't known anything about Ross's family, our conversation over the years I'd known him had usually been concerned with his conquests, of which there were legion, and snippets of gossip and information, of which there were even more.

Another surprise was his sister's 'friend'. Although Ross hadn't specified the gender I'd assumed that the friend was a she. In fact it was a 'him' and the most beautiful 'him' I'd seen for many a long day. He was a slim young man with glossy black hair, the sort that looks good even when you've just got out of bed in the morning after an athletic night's uninhibited sex. Even across the room I could see that his eyes were blue-grey, those sort of very light, come-to-bed eyes which I find very attractive. And he was gay. That was made clear right from the start when Ross introduced us and he came straight across and kissed me - on the cheeks certainly but it was more than a casual continental 'muah' kind of kiss. It wasn't a come-on. just a generous greeting from one gay guy to another.

His name was Leander. And the three syllables tripped off the tongue, contrasting strangely with my monosyllabic, Mark.

After providing us with generous drinks, Ross and Polly, brother and sister, disappeared into the kitchen to prepare the food leaving Leander and me alone. It was an obvious move and I felt slightly embarrassed but he was a pleasant guy - as well as being ravishingly good looking - so that we soon found ourselves chatting companionably together as if we'd been friends for years. He told me about his job - he actually worked for the Forestry Commission and knew a fascinating amount about our native trees and the animals and plants that grew amongst them. We talked about Polly and Ross - I wondered whether looking after trees was a sufficiently 'butch' occupation for Ross to be interested in, but didn't quite dare ask that. Leander and Polly though had known each other since school days and had remained friends ever since - platonic, he mentioned casually so I didn't need to ask. The only thing we didn't mention was Edward and I suspected that Leander and Polly had been well-briefed about that by Ross before my arrival.

We talked of our interests, his were vaguely outdoor - he skiied every Easter in the Austrian Tyrol, mine more bookish, books and films and we occasionally coincided when he and I both admitted to liking American musicals.

The return of Polly and Ross bearing viands and more alcoholic beverages after what seemed a very short time interrupted our conversation and I caught Ross raising Leander a quizzical eyebrow to be answered by an ambiguous smile. No doubt they'd be 'tete-a-tete'ing after I left.

But whether it was a plan to get me back into the romance arena or not, I enjoyed myself immensely. We had planned to go to a film but, by the time we'd finished the meal which took a long while because it was accompanied by the most salacious anecdotes of Ross's adventures which were if not sometimes a bit chilling - he took enormous risks - usually wildly funny, it was much too late.

"I must go home," I said when I realised it was well after midnight. "I haven't been out this late for months." It wasn't mentioned that I hadn't actually been out at all for months.

"We must do this again," said Ross.

"And next time make the film," said Polly.

"We must indeed," said Leander.

I kissed them all good-bye when the minicab arrived to take me home, this time though Leander aimed for my lips.

Half-asleep I told Teddy about the evening. It was obviously my imagination but I thought he looked disgruntled when I had come into the bedroom alone. Though I'd been sleeping well for the past nights, I woke up suddenly. My radio alarm showed it was 3.23. Sleepily I reached out to the other side of the bed feeling for a warm body. "Edward," I said but the face I conjured up wasn't blond, the hair was lustrous black and the eyes, pale blue.

I was horrified that I could have been sexually aroused by a stranger on a train, that someone I had met only the evening before could have supplanted the love of my life in my mind's eye.

Was I losing my memories of Edward? Obviously not because I could remember the things we had done together, the big things like the holiday we spent in Florence and the small things like staying in in the evening, me reading while he watched the TV.

The shape of Teddy at the bottom of the bed was silhouetted against the window lit by the street lamps from outside. "I won't see Ross again," I promised to the bear, though when I said 'Ross' I think I meant 'Leander'.

I didn't think I'd be able to sleep but almost immediately I dropped off. I dreamed of the time Edward and I had gone to Epping Forest, that patch of woodland just outside London. It had been a beautiful day. We had wandered along the paths through the trees and eventually struck off into a thicker patch. There amongst the oaks and ash and beeches, far away from everyone else, we had made love on a grassy bank sprinkled with white wood anemones. This time though something was wrong. I reached out for Edward, wanting to hold him close but he held up his hands. "No," he said. "No!"

The rejection made me feel almost sick, something rose in my throat and I was choking. I awoke threshing around. Like the previous time, Teddy was lying across my face. There was no pressure but as I pushed him away, I couldn't understand how he'd got from the bottom of the bed to the top. Perhaps I'd kicked out in my dream and moved him - but a distance of five feet? And towards me? Impossible, - yet how else could it have happened?

At breakfast the following morning, Teddy looked distinctly cross. There were some 'frown' lines on his forehead that I hadn't noticed before. "What's the matter with you?" I asked but he just glowered at me, his one remaining eye looking almost balefully accusing.

"I'm going to Dover at the end of the week," I said. "If you cheer up, I'll take you with me." That didn't seem to make any difference and I left for work without saying anything else.

In the Underground I looked out for the young guy whom I had 'met' the previous week though whether it was to avoid him or to carry on from where we had left off, I didn't want to ask myself. In any event, of course, I didn't see him.

I went into conference with my boss about what I needed to do at the Dover office - basically make sure that everything was running smoothly - the annual inspection he called it. The annual 'snoop', they would probably think of it as.

"There's a guy called Jim Daniels who will look after you," said my boss. "See you're all right. Show you around, if you know what I mean."

I knew Jim Daniels from e-mails and conversations over the phone though I'd never met him. His voice sounded sibilant and I thought he was probably gay. Was everyone trying to get me into bed with someone else?

So there I was, in Dover, on the Friday evening, walking along the Marine Parade, the sea on my right, waves slowly rolling in and breaking, tall Victorian houses, mostly turned into hotels on my left, ahead the road rising to the tops of the white cliffs and Dover Castle.

It had been a long day. Jim Daniels, his gayness confirmed though not predatory - he had a long-established live in lover to whom I had been introduced - hadn't been the slightest bit upset at my probing into what was in fact HIS part of the business. What I had seen had been perfectly kosher. He was doing a good job and my report to the boss would be, after I finished the job on Monday, very creditable. Probably result in a rise for Jim.

He'd been a good companion too, taking me to lunch - with the boyfriend - at a very good vegetarian restaurant and offering to show me around in the evening. But I thought I'd explore on my own in spite of Jim's protestations. In the end he'd agreed, given me a list of gay places obviously, with a wink, assuming that I wanted to do a bit of trawling on my own and wished me good luck.

I left Teddy in my hotel room, which was like all hotel rooms, comfortable enough but obviously a commercially decorated and furnished room with bathroom en suite. The evening was fine, the air, to my town-accustomed nostrils, fresh and ozone tinted. Ozone of course is a gas given off by an electric discharge and has nothing to do with the seaside, but the smell of the sea and probably rotting seaweed gives a deceptive imitation of the aroma. Gulls screamed and floated overhead in the air currents.

OK. I was lonely. I was away from home where I'd been for months, alone certainly but there surrounded by familiar objects so that I had been sad but not with this completely alone feeling. I wondered why I had refused Jim's offer which now seemed stupid, but the thought of gay bars or clubs, heaving with liveliness and mankind on the desperate hunt for a dream, was equally repellent.

So I wandered along the street, which was full, it being still early evening, of people on their various missions, looking for a good time, on their way to meet friends, loved ones or, perhaps equally lonely as I was.

My mobile phone rang. I had switched it on during the day in case my boss had wanted a 'private' word with me rather than using the public telephone in the office and had forgotten to switch it off. Ross's number showed on the screen. For a moment I thought of switching it off without answering but after all he was fifty miles away and I felt the need to talk to someone.

"Hi, Ross," I said, "sorry I haven't been in touch. Been busy."

But it wasn't Ross's slightly nasal twang that answered. Instead a voice I remembered and which gave me a jolt of alarm (was it?) or pleasure. "Mark, Leander here. Thought you might like to meet up again."

Suddenly I realised that that was exactly what I would like to do, wanted to do. "I'm really sorry," I said regretfully. "I'm not in town at the moment. I'm in Dover. It's a bugger. I could do with some company." What was I saying? But I knew I was safe with all that distance between us.

And then of course I wasn't.

"Dover," he said. "But that's just down the M20. I know it quite well. I could be with you in under an hour. Where are you staying?"

I couldn't protest. Perhaps I didn't want to. "The Kensington," I said. "It's in Townwall Street."

"I know it," said Leander. "I'll meet you in the bar. Seven thirty at the latest."

And here I am. Waiting. Feeling slightly scared. I've changed into a blue shirt and tight white trousers. I know they're a bit old-fashioned but they show me off to my best advantage, I think. I told Teddy about Leander coming all the way from London and the frown lines have gone. Honest. And it almost looks as if the corners of his mouth have turned up a bit. Smiling? Course not, but that's what it looks like. I don't know what Leander and I will do, whether we'll go out and have a meal, or go to a club, or - possibly I'll ask him up to my room. I think that's what Edward hopes - I mean Teddy. What a stupid mistake to make.

I'm really feeling quite nervous and shy which is idiotic. It's not as if I'm a teenager on my first date. I'm experienced, know my way around. I won't stammer and stutter when I see him, look gauche and terrified. I'll manage things with suave sophistication, look him straight in the eye - and melt!

Oh God. Here he is, just come in through the door. He's smiling. He's beautiful.