Wild with All Regrets, page 8
“I’ve thought about it, but I’m a bit too young. Plus, I have a criminal record. I don’t know if they’ll be too happy to have me.” Lucas took a small sip of water. “Besides, I don’t really want to put myself in harm’s way, my family relies on me too much.”
“Oh, come now Lucas, I’ll have you know they provide an excellent pension for family members of dead soldiers! That way everyone’s happy!”
Lucas blinked and burst out laughing. “You’re a bit odd, you know that?”
“So they say. I’m sure some people find it endearing. Anyway, the military might be worth a shot when you’re older, you never know.”
“Mm.” This was Jamie. There was no doubt in his mind that this Jamie was the same one who had sheltered him from the rain when he was a boy. He looked the same, acted the same. Hell, he even sounded the same. Did Jamie remember too, though? Lucas tried to think of how to phrase his query.
“This might be a bit of an odd question but . . . is it possible that we’ve met before?”
Jamie considered it. “I . . . I’m not sure. I haven’t been to Dublin since I was little, so maybe not.” Jamie was silent for a moment, his mouth closed as he chewed. “Have you ever been to Waterford before?”
“I’ve never left Dublin,” Lucas confessed.
“Let me think. Well, I went to Dublin with my father when I was a kid. We were staying with my granny, and it was raining . . . and . . . ” His eyes widened, a delighted grin sweeping over his face. “You’re not—? Lucas? My Lucas? Shit! I never would have recognized you!” He shook his head. “I can’t believe this! You look great!”
Oh, thank God, he remembered, he remembered! And better still, Jamie didn’t seem to fear him or resent him. In fact, his memories seemed positive! Lucas’s heart felt like it was singing. “You do too, Jamie. Christ. Small world.”
Jamie’s hand fell heavy on Lucas’s shoulder. “You’re not kidding. Holy hell, my mum always said I was charmed but— running into an old friend on my first night in Dublin? I should sell locks of my hair for good luck! I’m so happy to see you, Lucas.”
They were both silent for a bit before Lucas spoke once more. “Jamie . . . I’m sorry. For trying to steal your wallet.” He was a worm. The boy who had sheltered him from the rain, had hugged him and fed him. Goddamn it.
“Lucas, it’s all right.” Jamie had such a kind face. “I remember your father. I know life can’t have been as easy for you as it has been for me. I understand.” A pause. “I wish I’d been able to contact you. I’ve thought about you a lot.”
“Me too.” You have no fucking idea.
A comfortable silence followed. “Well, I shouldn’t keep you any longer. Go see your family and give them those chips before they get too cold.” Jamie fiddled with his tie. “Do you want to exchange addresses? I’d love to meet up again, if you want.”
Lucas. You stupid shit, don’t you dare blush like a schoolgirl.
“Ah, maybe. I work a lot when I’m not . . . ” You know, robbing people. “Where’re you staying? You’re new in Dublin and I don’t want you to get lost. I’ll walk you there.”
“Christ, there’s a question. The hotel lost my booking, my dormitory doesn’t open for students until next week, and my granny is out of town for a funeral.”
“Are you joking? You’re a complete and total idiot!” Lucas couldn’t believe this guy was going to university. “I’m worried if I leave you outside, you’ll look up at the rain clouds and drown!”
Jamie couldn’t stop laughing; Lucas’s insults seemed only to make his circumstances funnier. Jamie probably had a long history of things working out for him.
“All right, you daft bastard, you can stay with me tonight, seeing as how I owe you one. I must warn you: the house is tiny and disgusting, but I keep it as clean as I can. But just for one night, just because you didn’t rat me out and you got me dinner and you’re so unbelievably stupid.”
Jamie smiled, squeezing his shoulder. “I don’t want to impose, but I certainly can’t turn down an invitation like that! Lead the way, Mister Connolly.”
They finished their food and Lucas’s stomach filled with dread. He really did live in one of the worst parts of Dublin, and he hoped Jamie wouldn’t think less of him because of it. He wondered why the hell he should care so much about the opinions of a fool like James Murray, but he did.
Jamie’s broad shoulders bumped against Lucas’s as they walked, and he found himself smiling. Lucas had never brought anyone to his home before, partially because he didn’t really have any friends, partially because it was mortifying to live in such conditions. He resided on Henrietta Street, for heaven’s sake, and he didn’t particularly want this stupid idiot to see how he lived, but . . . Jamie hadn’t called the police on him; he’d bought him fish and chips. Lucas decided he might as well be forthright.
“Now I’m warning you, you’ve never stayed somewhere as shit as my home,” he said. “My house is full of loud children and the whole place stinks of piss, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you woke up with crabs.”
Jamie laughed at that, presumably not realizing Lucas wasn’t kidding. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be an experience, anyway. Beggars can’t be choosers, right? So, who am I going to meet?”
“My mother, Molly. She’s kind, she’ll probably offer to feed you, even though we don’t have a lot. Please keep that in mind if she does. There’s Becky, she’s fourteen. She’s going to think you’re quite fit, please ignore her. Then we’ve got the twins, Matthew and Patrick, they’re thirteen and they think they know everything, but they’re good kids. Then there’s Jessie, she’s nine, and been a bit poorly recently.” He squeezed the small package in his jacket close to his chest. It was gonna be the best part of his night when she saw how much food he was bringing home.
“My Da’ walked out on us a few years ago, as I said. So you don’t have to worry about him.” Obviously, Jamie would remember Mick-Fucking-Connolly. “It’s been quite peaceful since then, actually, but money’s tight. I’m so sorry I tried to rob you,” he added quietly.
Jamie’s face was soft in the dim light of the streetlamps; there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He let his arm drop heavily on Lucas’s shoulders and left it there. “You’re making it up to me by letting me stay here tonight,” he decided. “We’ll call us even.”
“Well then, I still owe you for dinner, since you’re a twit and felt the need to do two nice things for me in one day. Plus, I owe you for when we were kids.” Shit, he was gonna be indebted to this asshole forever.
“Eh, I’ll think of something. Nothing too nefarious, I assure you.”
Jamie’s countenance did change a little when they got into the tenement street that the Connollys called home, and Lucas felt Jamie shift closer to him in the darkness. His eyes were wide and darting; Jamie was obviously experiencing some level of regret. Lucas’s own eyes stung from the ammonia in the air. There were people in the gutters, broken glass and rats everywhere. Thousands lived in these tiny buildings; men, women and children crowded into drafty stone coffins. A severely underweight man was emptying the contents of his stomach onto the street, and a number of drunks leered at the two of them. The ground squelched as they walked, the lighting was poor, and the whole place reeked of piss and blood and fear.
“I’ve got you,” Lucas said. “No one will touch us.” Probably. He put a hand on Jamie’s shoulder. As they walked, a haggard looking young man approached them with a bottle of beer in his hand.
“Aye, Connolly, who’s the pretty fellow? You got anything for me, boyo?”
Ugh, he hated Bert. He was drunk all the time, and Jessie was terrified of him.
“What about you, Blondie?” Bert grabbed at Jamie’s jacket.
“No. Get out of the way, I’m in no mood for this.” Lucas smacked Bert’s hand away from Jamie’s chest, eyes cold and distant. “Don’t you touch him.”
“What’s that, Connolly? You get a rich friend and you’re too good for us now? Eh? Eh?” He lunged forward slowly, swinging his fist.
Lucas sighed and blocked him easily, bringing his elbow down on Bert’s greasy head, sending him to the ground. Bert groaned but made no move to get up.
“Guess I am too good for you.” Lucas decided not to spit on the ground in case Jamie thought that was uncouth.
Jamie shook a little, standing behind Lucas. “Ah—that was brilliant. Well done.” He looked impressed, if petrified. “Friend of yours?”
“No. He’s some creep who lives in our building. He never gives the girls peace. I hope he dies.”
Jamie chuckled at that, hooking his arm around Lucas’s shoulders and bonking their heads together gently. He was apparently quite grateful for his rescue and feeling affectionate now. Lucas didn’t stop him.
Was Jamie flirting with him? He wasn’t giving him bedroom eyes or making any overtly sexual movements but . . . Christ, this was confusing. Lucas didn’t get a homosexual air from Jamie, exactly, but . . .
Gradually, he came up to his tenement block and led him up the dark, narrow stairs, letting Jamie stay close. He unlocked the door, and Mattie and Pattie barreled into him.
“Lucas! What’ve you got, what’ve you got?” Patrick bounced on his heels.
Lucas smiled and opened his jacket, showing the two full orders of fish and chips that were still warm to the touch. The boys’ eyes widened, and they snatched the parcel away, running to the corner of the house that functioned as a dining area. The girls sat down beside their brothers and all of them ate until they were stuffed. It was at this point that they noticed the large, handsome stranger who’d accompanied their brother and dinner through the door.
“Um, who is this?” Becky asked nervously, curling some of her soft black hair around her finger. Her face was red.
“Jamie Murray, at your service.” He bowed politely and gave her a wink.
Lucas rolled his eyes. Great, now Becky was going to be in love with him for the rest of her life. Nice one.
“He’s some idiot I met at a pub,” Lucas explained quickly. “He paid for dinner and didn’t have anywhere to stay tonight, so I invited him over. I hope that’s all right, Ma’.”
“Of course! And don’t call him an idiot, Lucas, it’s rude. Mr. Murray, thank you for buying the children dinner, it means so much to me. Please, come in, make yourself at home! Let me get you something to drink.”
“Ah, no, Mrs. Connolly, that’s fine.” Jamie was peering around the flat, no doubt noticing all the dirty laundry and the lack of privacy. He was probably wondering where the bathroom was.
“Oh, I insist! Sit, sit! Children, make room.” Molly started fussing around the kitchen, putting the kettle on for tea.
Matthew and Patrick approached the handsome stranger and gawked at him. “So, are you homeless? Why’d you want to stay here, of all places?”
“I’m temporarily homeless. I’m starting university soon and the lodgings weren’t ready for me yet. Your brother was kind enough to offer his hospitality.”
“I think you’d be better off homeless,” Jessie suggested, licking her fingers. “’Cause then you could sleep in the park or something and it might be quieter.”
Jamie laughed. “But then I never would have met you lot! Come, shall we play a game? I’ve got cards.”
The five of them sat in the middle of the flat and played happily for a good hour while Lucas watched. Molly eventually decided they all needed to get to sleep and bopped each of her children on the head with a rolled-up bit of paper.
Jamie had made the whole house seem warmer, somehow. His smile was so tender, his laugh so rich and genuine that Lucas almost forgot how cold it was. The children seemed happier, too.
They were all smiles, warm cheeks and full tummies. Lucas was grateful for what Jamie had done for them. He would never know just how much his small actions meant. At the mention of bedtime, Jamie nodded and stood up, not really sure what “bed” meant exactly in the context of this nearly furniture-less house.
Lucas guided him to his corner of the flat, which he kept as neat as possible. “I know it’s not much, but you’re welcome to whatever I have.” He met Jamie’s eyes and was shocked once more by how lovely they were. “I really appreciate everything you did for me and my family today, even if you are an idiot.” Lucas had a small cot he used, and Jamie could have it. He’d made it up as nicely as he could, giving Jamie all of the spare blankets and pillows he could find.
“I’m not taking your bed while you sleep on the floor, Lucas,” Jamie said firmly.
“I’m not making you sleep on the floor after I tried to rob you,” Lucas replied, not budging.
“We appear to be at a standstill,” Jamie decided, his smile returning. “Okay. Wanna share? It’ll be close but it’ll be warm.”
Lucas raised an eyebrow. He scanned Jamie for sexual intent, a quirk of an eyebrow, a slip of his tongue over his lips, a stiffening bulge in his trousers . . . nothing. Platonic as a duckling eating a damned breadcrumb. Adorable, if anything. Jamie obviously didn’t mean anything untoward; he was genuinely just being nice. It was odd. It was very, very odd. “Okay, but I must warn you, I’m apparently a supreme blanket hog.”
Jamie laughed and nudged him with his elbow. “Well, I’ll just yank it back if you do end up taking it. Fair?”
“Fair.”
Lucas kept as much a distance from Jamie’s warm body as was possible on such a small bit of furniture. All in all, it was a horrible night’s sleep. It wasn’t quite like when they were children, no. There had been no sexual energy then, all gentle, cozy safety. But now . . . good lord, Lucas wasn’t sure if there was any blood going to his brain at this point. He fell asleep with a smile on his face, Jamie’s broad back against his.
1909
One thing that had become abundantly clear from Lucas’s sessions with Father Doyle was that his tendencies toward homosexuality were only getting stronger, despite all of the priest’s intervention. It wasn’t something people talked about openly, really. Lucas’s exposure to what it meant to be homosexual was limited to jokes at school, offhand remarks from his father, and the church decrying the dangers of unconsecrated sex.
There was no one for Lucas to talk to about it. His friends thought being so afflicted was the worst thing in the world, and his parents were out of the question. It was just such a shameful, awful thing. He couldn’t even imagine getting the words out—
Ma’ . . . I . . . I like . . . I want . . .
Why were love and sex such a big part of life? Most stupid books had love as a central theme, had marriage as an end goal— either that or the books had no women at all, just an unhealthy attachment to plot and action. Lucas liked that sort of story more, liked to imagine a world without women where no one would give him any bother about whom he fucked in his dreams.
He kept to himself, wondering if maybe he could take the cloth one day. No one expected priests to get married. Maybe that was the best way. Christ, maybe he could step in and show them how to have a good time and stop them from touching children. Honestly, how many of them took up the priesthood to hide their preferences?
Danny had learned a valuable lesson too, it seemed, and figured out what he needed to do and not do to avoid getting beaten by the rest of his class. They kept away from each other for the most part, but Lucas caught Danny staring at him from time to time, which secretly made him terribly pleased.
Weeks passed, final exams were looming, and Lucas couldn’t help but notice Danny fidgeting with his fingers and glancing at him just as the school bell rang to dismiss them.
“Lucas!” he called.
Lucas cocked an eyebrow.
“I, um, I was wondering if you wanted to study together? My mum’s visiting her parents, so . . . ”
So, it wasn’t a sin anymore? Hah. But Lucas smiled. “Yeah, sure.”
They didn’t have very much in common, as far as Lucas could tell. It was just as well that Danny seemed too nervous to maintain conversation as they made the short journey to his home. Lucas wasn’t really interested in talking.
The house was much nicer than Lucas’s. It felt warm as soon as they walked in; he could smell food and not piss. He tried to find it in himself to be bitter, but his curiosity got the better of him. Through the hallway, past the sitting room . . . right into the young boy’s bedroom. My, Danny, how forward.
Danny sat down on the bed and licked his lips, his hands trembling a little as he looked up at Lucas.
“Um . . . ”
“What did you want to study, Daniel?”
Lucas took a small amount of pleasure in the way Danny’s cheeks reddened. “ . . . don’t make me say it.”
Damn it. He didn’t want to feel pity and empathy for this kid, but he sat down next to Danny and took his hand. “I thought it was a sin.”
“I know. It is a sin, and I keep telling myself how wrong it is but . . . Lucas, before, when we . . . ”
“Yeah?”
“I really liked it. I really liked you. It felt so good.”
“Oh come on,” Lucas scoffed. “You don’t even know me.” He was under no delusions himself, really. They were attracted to each other, they liked kissing, but this wasn’t love. It wasn’t even close.
“I know, I know. I just— I keep trying to stop thinking about you and I just . . . ”
“Just can’t.” Lucas swallowed. “I had a priest once who said he could fix me.”
“You did?” Danny’s eyes were wide. “What did he do?”
Christ, it was too easy, almost. Let me fuck you and you’ll be cured. God, why had he been such a fool?
“He lied to me. He made it worse.”
“Oh.” The other boy wilted a little and Lucas sighed.
“But he also made me wonder if it’s something that can be fixed. Maybe we’re just like this because God made us this way.”
“Why would God do something like that? Why the hell would he want anyone to be like—”
Lucas interrupted him with a kiss and held him steady for a moment, pulling away with a coy little smile. “Let me show you.”
