Westpoint Tales - Entangled Tales, 100 - George & Jeremy & Crispian

Crispian, Compte St. Clair, woke alone in his big bed. He stretched and yawned. He hated mornings and was always slow to wake up fully. He might look like a kid again, but he wasn’t really. Crispian was getting older and some mornings he really felt his years.

“Ah. I wish just snap awake like young Daniel does. But, no. I guess I’m more like Tony – he’s like a bear with a sore head in the mornings, apparently.”

He got out of bed, relieved himself in the bathroom and stumbled through to the kitchen of his small apartment. He filled and switched on the electric kettle and then went back to the bedroom to get dressed.

He looked at himself in the mirror on the wardrobe door, and sighed. A cute, slender, smooth-skinned boy looked back at him. But, that wasn’t him – not really. On the inside, he was still the same person he’d always been and sometimes he felt all of his 58 years, especially in the mornings.

“I don’t know why I let Jonathan talk me into doing that to myself. I look good – I look great! But, now I’m just a freak – the oldest kid in town, that’s me. If my friends could see me now!”

Back in the kitchen, he turned on the radio for a bit of company, made a strong instant coffee and sat at the table to drink it. He looked up at the window – clear, blue sky, but a bit pinkish.

“More rain coming soon then. Westpoint gets more rain in a month than London does in a year – in two years. But, it’s a great little town. I like it here.”

He sat sipping his coffee and gazing pensively out of the window.

“I do like Westpoint; I don’t miss the UK at all. It’s the people that make a place and Westpoint’s got some great people. Our friends in London were all a shallow, self-centered lot. They showed that when Gemmy was sick and dying. Nobody stood by us, nobody wanted to know. Selfish pricks!

I do miss Gemmy. You were my shining star, Gemmy. I hope you’re happy now, wherever you are.”

He got up, rinsed out his coffee mug, and then made himself a ‘C/omplan’ food and energy drink, shaking it vigorously in it’s tall container to mix it thoroughly.

“Mmmm. Faster and easier than trying to cook myself something in the morning. And, I need the energy if I’m going to keep up with those kids!”

Again, he drifted off – lost in thought. Apart from missing his old friend, life was good. The record label was doing well and the movie was doing great business. He’d always wanted to make a feature film, and now he had – Whozzat’s Movie – and it was great!

It was everything he’d hoped for and more. He’d made the film, written it, directed it and even filmed most of it, but it was definitely Whozzat’s movie. The kids had made it what it was, and it was good – a classic of its kind.

They were great kids too. All of them. The members of Whozzat – Peter and Jay, Sandie, Kadie, Shelley and Daniel and Tony. He loved them all, and all the other good friends he’d made here. Justin, Jonathan, Billy, Lana, Claudette, Lucas, Claire and all of the others too. Great kids.

But, that was his problem, wasn’t it? They were kids, well big kids, teenagers, and he was not. Compared to them, he was an old man – a lonely old man. Lonely in the midst of a crowd. The kids liked him, he thought, but they never really accepted him as one of themselves. He was a friend, but on the outside. He was different.

It was the same with the adults too. The kids’ parents and grandparents and others around the town, all accepted him and were friends, but not really – not totally. He was different. Adults tended to look at him and treat him like he was a teenager, an older teenager, even when he was really years older than them.

There was one person who was different with him, but that wasn’t good either. Kathleen Reynolds, the twins’ grandmother and the ‘Dragon Lady of the Adelphi Hotel’, was great – a nice woman really, under her gruff exterior, but she still couldn’t get past the fact that he was ‘a real live aristocrat’.

Most people had gotten past calling him ‘Lordship’ now, he was just Crispian. But, not Kathleen; she still called him “My Lord”, and it looked like she always would.

He cleaned up his few breakfast things, and then went back to the bathroom, to clean himself up. He looked at himself in the mirror again.

“Yeah. You’re a nice-looking kid. If I passed you in the street, I’d stop and have another look. But you’re not me – not really.”

He sighed. He was lonely, lonely and alone in the crowd. The sex urges were still there, somewhat, but nowhere near as strong as when he really was young. He wished he had someone, a partner to share his life with. He missed Gemmy, so much.

They’d never had a sexual relationship, despite what everyone thought. Gemmy was far too sick for that; but they were good friends – close friends, closer than brothers. He loved Gemmy. He missed him.

Why was he feeling so melancholy on this bright, sunny morning? He was never usually this bad – empty, lonely, but not this bad. Then he remembered!

“Shit, Gemmy! It’s your birthday. Today would have been your birthday and I forgot – nearly forgot. Sorry, Gemmy.”

As soon as the shops were open, he went uptown and bought some flowers from Mrs. Campbell the florist. Then he drove across town and out to the cemetery.

Arriving there, he parked next to the one other car in the section where Gemmy’s grave was. He got out and walked over to the man standing there.

“Good morning,” Crispian said. “Have you come to see Gemmy as well?”

“Yes,” said the man, looking around at him. His eyes were red, had he been crying? “Today is his birthday. Well, today would have been his birthday.”

“Yes. It would have been.” Crispian looked down at the grave and the half dozen red roses lying on it. He laid his own roses down beside them.

“Happy Birthday, my dear old friend. Rest in peace.”

“You knew him well then?” the man queried.

“I did. I knew him for a long time. He lived with me for the last six years, until he died.”

“Six years,” sighed the man. “Such a long time. I only knew him for a few weeks and it was a long time ago, but I loved Gemmy, I really loved him. Still do, actually. I’ll never forget my Gemmy.”

“I loved him too. He was the brother that I never had. He was a very special person and I’ll never forget him too.”

The two men stood looking down at their friend’s grave, both choked up and feeling emotional and trying not to cry. Men don’t cry.

“How?” Crispian cleared his throat. “How did you know him? And why do you call him Gemmy? No-one else calls him that, only me. In Westpoint he is still Jeremy – Jakie Carver’s brother, Jeremy.”

“He’s always been Gemmy to me – my bright, shining gem of a boy. I was the one who named him that in the first place.”

“You did? Then you must be Georgie – Gemmy’s Georgie, the boy he left behind.”

“That’s me. Or, I was, it was a long time ago. No-one’s called me Georgie for, it seems like, a hundred years.”

They stood in quiet reflection for a minute, and then George spoke again. “So, did he. . . did Gemmy still remember me then?”

“Of course he remembered you. You were the boy who taught him to love. Gemmy always said that he’d fucked a hundred men, but he only ever made love with his Georgie.”

George sighed and spoke to the grave. “Oh Gemmy, why didn’t you come back? Why didn’t you call? I always waited for you. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Crispian cleared his throat and held out his hand.

“Great to meet you, Georgie. I’m Crispian – Crispian St. Clair.”

George shook the hand. “Yes. I know who you are; you’re the guy who made Whozzat’s Movie. I’m George Barnes., I’m Daniel’s uncle, and Tony’s too – well, kind-of I am.”

“It’s a small town. It’s really great to meet you, at last. I’ve been here for months, why haven’t you made yourself known before?”

“I didn’t like to. I’m nobody special, just someone who used to know Gemmy a long, long time ago. Anyway, when I look at you, I feel like an old man.”

“This,” Crispian waved a hand across his face. “This is only on the outside. Inside, I’m just as old as you – older even, if you were the same age as Gemmy.”

“You certainly don’t look it. I’ve thought of trying that R&R skin stuff, but – there’s not much point really, I am who I am.”

“That’s fine, if you’re happy with how you look. Sometimes I wish that I’d never done it.”

“But you look so good. You look fantastic actually.”

“Well, maybe. But I‘m still me – it hasn’t changed who I am. Or, not much anyway.”

“Do you still get served in pubs?”

“Sure I do, around here anyway, where they know me. I don’t bother much anymore, I’ve got no-one to drink with.”

“Would you, umm, would you like to have a drink with me sometime?”

“With you?”

“Yes. I’d really like to hear about Gemmy’s life after he left Westpoint. I’ve always wondered what happened to him.”

“That’d be great. Look, why don’t you come back to my place now? We can have a beer and I’ll tell you about the Gemmy that I knew and you can tell me about the Gemmy that you knew.”

“Okay, sure. I’d like that. Where do you live?”

“In the Union Hall – the old Miner’s Union Hall in Cobham Street, I’ve got an apartment out the back.”

“I’ll follow you back into town then.” George bent over and arranged the flowers so that they lay on either side of the headstone.

“Goodbye, Gemmy. Sleep well, my shining star.”

(‘My shining star?’) Crispian went back to his car with a tear in his eye and a song in his heart. He was delighted to have met Gemmy’s Georgie. fancy him still being here in Westpoint after all these years and fancy him remembering and keeping the love alive! This guy must be a special person. He hoped that he’d made a friend here.

Back in town, Crispian pulled up in Cobham Street outside the Union Hall, and then, when George had caught up to him, drove around and parked at the back. George followed him around, stopped, and sat in his car for a couple of minutes, thinking. He got out of the car to face Crispian who was standing there waiting.

“Crispian, look, ah. . .I don’t know. Maybe we should do this some other time.”

“No, Georgie. You’re here now. Come in – please? It’s Gemmy’s birthday, what better day for his old friends to get together? I’d really rather not be alone today. Please come in.”

“Well, umm, okay – just for a few minutes then.”

Crispian led the way inside, George followed. “So, ah, do you really live here? Full time?”

“Yes, sure I do. I bought the hall for the kids really, for Whozzat, so that they’d have somewhere to practice – somewhere better than Jay’s mother’s garage. But, it has the caretaker’s apartment back here. It’s nothing much, really small, but it’s all I need.”

“I thought you were a Lord, or something? Shouldn’t you be living in a palace?”

“I don’t have a palace. I wish that I did. There’s not a lot of palaces around in Westpoint. This is where I live now.”

“But you are a Lord. A Count, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I’m a real Count. Crispian Compte St. Clair. But that’s all I’ve got – just an empty title. I wish I’d never told anyone about that. I should have left it behind in London, it doesn’t mean anything around here. A title was useful for impressing people, business contacts and so on, especially Americans, but around here the only titles that matter are the ones you earn.”

“What? Like ‘Superboy’ do you mean?”

“You’ve got it. Superboy, the Iceman, the Guitar-man and so on; they are the real titles in Westpoint.”

“I guess you’re right – titles like Gemmy.”

“Yes, Gemmy and Georgie too. Sit down, George. I’ll get some beers. How did you meet Gemmy and why did he ever leave you?”

They sat and talked, laughed and cried, through the day and into the night. Whozzat gathered and started rehearsing. When they found that Crispian had a visitor, they left them alone and stayed out in the front, making music.

When it was time for supper, Crispian suggested going to a restaurant, as he usually did when not eating with friends. He hated cooking for just himself and didn’t keep much food in the kitchen.

George demurred. He liked Crispian, but he didn’t know if he was ready to be seen out in public with Jeremy Carver’s gay lover. They both went around to George’s house where he cooked them a meal.

“Just stir-fries – quick and easy.”

Crispian bought some wine on the way around there.

After eating, they left the dishes and went through to sit in the lounge. Crispian was immediately taken with the large, framed, portrait on the wall above the mantelpiece.

“That’s Gemmy, right? A very young Gemmy.”

“Yes, that’s him, of course. Gemmy aged 15 years. I had it painted from an old school photo. It was in the 1964 yearbook. It’s the only photo I had of him.”

“Your only photo? Damm! I wish I’d thought earlier. I’ve got hundreds of photos of Gemmy. He really loved dressing up and having his photo taken. I inherited them when he died. You’ll have to come back to my place and have a look. You’re welcome to take any photos that you like; I really have got hundreds.”

“That would be great! Thank you, Crispian. I’d really like to see them. I still have a clear picture of him in my head, but that’s Gemmy as a youth. I never knew him as a man.”

“No? Well I never knew him as a youth. He was a good-looking kid, wasn’t he?”

“He was.” George looked up at the portrait on the wall. “Gemmy was a beautiful boy.”

“Yeah. He was a nice man too, well, mostly he was. I don’t want to burst your bubble, Georgie, I think that it’s amazing that you’ve loved him for all these years, but Gemmy wasn’t perfect you know. He was quite self-centered and vain, arrogant and a selfish prick sometimes.”

“I know. I guess that people don’t change much really. Even as a boy, he could be like that.”

“But you loved him anyway.”

“I did. I loved him more than he loved me.”

“So did I, George. More than he loved me too.”

Crispian stayed until quite late, and then said that he’d better be getting home.

“Don’t want those kids getting up to mischief while I’m gone. Not that they take a hell of a lot of notice of me anyway. But, I’d better be going, work tomorrow. Thanks for today, I’ve really enjoyed it.”

“So have I. Thank you, Crispian. I’ve had a great day too.”

“Maybe we could do it again sometime. Are you busy tomorrow?”

“I’ve got work, but I’m not doing anything after.”

“Well you are now. Come back to my place – say, 6 o’clock. I’ll cook dinner for us.”

“Thanks. But I thought you hated cooking?”

“No, I hate cooking just for myself. I don’t mind it when there’s someone else to cook for.”

“But you’ve always got company. The Union Hall is always full of kids these days.”

“The hall’s always busy, but only out at the front, not out the back. There’s just me out there, alone and lonely. The kids are great, but they’re just kids and I’m not. I’m an old man in their eyes.”

“You’re not an old man in my eyes.”

“No? What am I in your eyes, Georgie?”

“Umm, a friend?”

“Yes!” Crispian beamed. “I’d really like a friend. I need a friend.”

“You’ve got one, if you like. I need a friend too.”

“It might sound like a strange thing to say, but I really like the cemetery.”

“You do? Why’s that?”

“I’ve met some amazing people out at the cemetery – Justin, Lucas and Carl, and through them I’ve met their friends and families and Whozzat too. Now I’ve met you out there as well.”

“I’m nobody special – just an ordinary guy.”

“You’re not ordinary, you’re very special. Anyone who loves someone and tells them that they’ll wait for them and then waits 40 years is a very special and extraordinary person. I’m delighted to have met you.”

George went around to Crispian’s the following evening. He stayed the night there.

One week later, on the Saturday, Crispian moved out of the Union Hall and he moved into George’s house. The plan was for him to use one of the spare rooms, but he never did. They shared George’s room, shared his bed, and soon, shared their lives.

Daniel and Tony were highly amused and delighted for them. Crispian offered them his flat in the back of the Union Hall, but they preferred to stay as they were – sleeping in George’s back-room and eating with the Peters.

In the end, it was Lucas who took the apartment. He moved in there with Margaret. They were both still at school, but, whatever.

Marcie sold her house and Paul, despite Dee’s protests, put his on the market as well. They bought a new house, in Williamson Road, by the estuary; a new home for their new lives together. Dee, grudgingly, accepted the new arrangements and she went to live with them. It would only be for a couple of years anyway.

Life was good.