Part 13
Once our rings were placed on our fingers, they were never removed. We spent the remainder of the art exhibition out in the garden, embraced in each-other's arms, lying on the fresh grass and staring up to the star-studded sky. The gentle lapping of the water and the smell of roses floating through the air made the atmosphere all the more romantic. Neither of us were in any hurry to return to the exhibition, feeling happy right where we were. Other visitors exploring the garden could�ve easily caught us, but we weren't disturbed. If we were, we probably wouldn't have cared, either.
By day I worked with CD-ROMs while Paul did a casual shift at Dragoon, an expensive men's clothing store. While he was happy with the experience he was getting and the wages, he was happiest when he was painting, often hiding away in our studio for hours on end. I didn't mind the time he spent in the studio; in fact, I encouraged it. When we both had free time on our hands, we went into the city. We often made no prior arrangements as to where we would go, and most of the time we ended up having a great time no matter where we ended up. Restaurants, theatre, shopping, club hopping, sitting alongside the Thames...we just about did it all.
One morning, a week after my proposal, I received a phone call from Justin Lovegrove. He chose to call only minutes after Paul had left for work and when I was rushing around the apartment trying to get myself ready. En route from the bedroom to the kitchen, the phone rang, and hurriedly dove to answer it.
"Hello?" I yawned. Oh, lovely greeting, Rich.
"Hello, is Paul McDermott there, please?" a male voice enquired.
"No, you just missed him. May I ask who's calling?"
"Sorry. Is this Richard Fidler? This is Justin Lovegrove. We met briefly at an art exhibition a month ago."
The name and voice clicked together in my head. "Oh, Justin! Hi! Yeah, this is Richard. How are you?"
"Not too bad, yourself?"
"Pretty good. Like I said, you just missed Paul, he ducked out the door around three minutes ago. Can I take a message for you?"
"Oh, yes, if you could, please. I suggested at the art exhibition that we should meet again soon, and I was going to ask him if he would like to meet me for dinner tonight."
"Tonight's not a good time, mate. Paul and I have made other plans." I paused in consideration. "Perhaps you'd like to join us?"
"I'd be honored. Where and when?"
"We're having dinner here, then going to a club. Do you know where Plethora is?"
"Yes, i've been there a few times previously. I could meet you there at, say, eight o'clock?"
"Eight is fine." I glanced down at my watch - ten minutes late. Shit. "Well, i'm sorry to cut this conversation short, but i'm running late."
"Oh, don't let me keep you behind. I'll see you tonight then. Bye, Richard."
-----
"Paul!"
Through the loud chatter of the crowd gathered outside Plethora, Paul and I could hear someone calling Paul's name. I swivelled around to see who the voice belonged to and accidentally bumped into Justin. Upon seeing his choice of clothing, I noted in amusement that we were all wearing similar clothes - white buttoned shirts and black pants. It reminded me of our Allstars uniforms.
"Justin, good to see you again!" Paul greeted him, reaching out to shake Justin's hand. "How've you been?"
"I can't complain. What say we get inside, yes?"
Clinging to each-other's arms, we fought through the crowd to the door. The bouncer inspected our club passes and our IDs, then nodded and pushed the door open to let us inside. The dance music pumped loudly, making our heads throb with every beat. The air was cloudy with the combination of cigarette smoke and puffs from the DJ's smoke machine. Lights were flashing frantically from all corners of the club, occasionally blinding us when flickering in our direction. Still linked to each-other, we shuffled our way towards a table which had just become available in a far corner, situated close to one of the two bars in the club.
"So what's your fancy, boys? Have you sampled our British liquor yet?" Justin shouted, leaning on the table between us.
"Unfortunately, the availability of Aussie alcohol isn't quite to our liking, so we've had no choice" I responded. "Make it a Cooper's, thanks."
"Coming right up. And how about you, Paul?"
Paul waved his hand airily, watching people pumping and grinding on the dancefloor. "Just the same, thanks."
Justin nodded, smiled to both of us and made his way to the bar, patiently awaiting the barman's attention. As we waited for him to return, I followed Paul's gaze to a painfully thin young boy on a tabletop. His hair was dishevelled, his skin was frightfully pale and his eyes were whirling in his head. He stood on a table, getting cheers of encouragement from his friends, and trashed wildly around in a drug-induced frenzy, thinking that it could pass for dancing.
I chuckled, shook my head in disbelief and gently nudged Paul's foot. He turned his head to me, smiled and shouted over the music, "I'll have what he's having!"
"You don't want to end up like him, darls!" I nodded my head towards the boy. "He's completely fucked, mate. You don't want what he's on, whatever it is."
Justin returned with two glasses of Cooper's, nodding his head in time to the pump of the music, and placed a quarter-empty bottle in the centre of the table. After settling himself down in a seat beside Paul, he glanced down at the ring shining on Paul's left index finger.
"Who gave you the ring?" he asked out of curiosity. Paul looked at the ring, beaming proudly, and nodded in my direction.
Justin turned his head to face me. "Really? So does this mean you guys are...?"
"Yep, that's what it means, mate." I smiled as I took a sip of Cooper's. "For about a week now."
"That's wonderful! Have you set a date yet?"
Paul shook his head and took the liberty of responding for both of us. "No date just yet. We're not in a rush, though." He reached out and squeezed my hand. "We're not going anywhere."
For a brief moment Justin looked at the two of us with an expression that I couldn't interpret. While it was there, it bothered me. But his mouth curled into a grin and reached out for the bottle of Cooper's.
"Well, this calls for a celebration, belated as it may be!" He raised the bottle. "I propose a toast to a long and happy life together. And lead you not into toyboy temptation!"
Paul and I laughed heartily to this and clinked our glasses against the bottle in Justin's hands, then raised the glasses to our mouths and took a long, thirsty drink.
The music changed as we placed our glasses back on the table. Justin swivelled his head to see the DJ and the crowd swelling on the dancefloor, nodding his head harder.
"I absolutely love this song!" He nudged Paul on the upper arm. "Come and dance with me, mate! Come on!"
Without waiting for a response, Justin stood up and started heading for the floor. Paul looked at me, a little unsure, and asked, "Do you mind?"
"No, of course not!"
"You'll stay here, right?"
I raised my eyebrows playfully. "Oh, unless I find a sexy young man to latch myself onto!"
Paul laughed. "Well, if you do, make sure you tell him about your fianc�e." He leant in and planted a none-too-hasty kiss on my lips, his shoulder-length hair brushing briefly against my cheek. "You behave yourself."
I kept my eyes fixed on him as Justin led him into the dancefloor. There wasn't much room to move, but Paul and Justin made do with the restricted space that they had. And boy, did Justin make do. He was pumping and gyrating enthusiastically, dancing dangerously close to Paul, who didn't seem to mind and only laughed, encouraging him. Making sure I wouldn't lose sight of them, I rose to my feet, took my glass in my hand and moved a little closer.
Watching Justin dancing so closely to my fianc�e made me a little jealous, of course, but it wasn't that feeling that bothered me. He seemed to be a nice enough young man, but there was something about Justin Lovegrove that I didn't like.
Part 14