Page 152 of Pansies

“And in any case,” Fen was saying, “whatever my dad has or hasn’t done with his life, he has no right to make decisions about mine. And neither do you.”

“Yeah, but don’t you think he might be right about this? You shouldn’t have to stay in South Shields for me.”

Fen made a noise so frustrated it was almost a growl—and would have been adorable on some other occasion. “Perfect segue, Alfie Bell, because this is where we get onto what you are: which is a clueless, arrogant, cowardly twat.”

“Um…yeah?”

“Yes. I mean, I know you might find this hard to believe, but there is actually more for me in South Shields than you. My mum, for example. All the places she loved. And the things she taught me. Every time I make a bouquet, it’s like she’s holding my hand.” His voice wobbled and he stopped abruptly.

Alfie folded Fen into his arms. “Oh, pet.”

“I know you’re going to think this is grief, but it’s not. It’s nothing like it.” He pressed his face briefly against Alfie’s shoulder, sniffing. Then pulled away, anger snapping into place again like armour. “And, yes, I have some fucking terrible memoriesof this place, but when you were with me—when you weren’t being a complete arse-dick—the ones we were making together mattered more.”

“I’m sorry,” said Alfie, helplessly, a few pathetic little tears of his own slipping from the corners of his eyes. “I’m really sorry. I’m everything you said, but can you at least believe I thought I was doing the right thing?”

Fen gazed at him, his expression utterly unreadable, full of too many things and not enough. “I genuinely don’t know if I liked it better when I thought you didn’t care about me.”

“Of course I care about you. Don’t I keep saying? I love you.”

“Yes, well.” Fen’s lips got very thin and mean. “What that seems to mean to you is making decisions for me. Treating me like a child. Assuming I don’t understand where my happiness lies.”

“That’s…that’s not what love means to me.” He tried to wipe the wetness from his cheeks. “I just didn’t want to take anything more from you. Or change your life in a way that made it worse or smaller or less full of all the stuff you dreamed about.”

“You changed my life the first time you shoved me into the wall and called me a nancy puff. My life changed when I dropped out of university. When my mother told me she had Alzheimer’s. The day she died.” Something like a smile softened Fen’s mouth, reminding Alfie of all the times he’d kissed it. All the times it had laughed for him. Called out his name. “My life changed when I saw you in the Rattler. And it changed two weeks ago when you came back to South Shields for me. Change means you’re alive. And”—Fen clenched his hands and pushed them hard against Alfie’s chest, deep shudders running up the length of his arms, making his shoulders shake too—“the day you didn’t trust me, the day you chose for me, was the day you took more from me than you ever have.”

“Will…” Alfie swallowed. The barbed wire was back, clogging up his throat, shredding his heart. “Will you forgive me for it?”

Fen’s eyes were steady on his, moonlight slipping down his bared throat, pooling in the hollow at the base. “Ask me and see.”

“Please, forgive me, Fen. I’ll never do summin like that again. I swear.”

No answer. No mercy in that look.

Brackish despair sloshed around in Alfie’s stomach. “I’m not good with pretty talk and fancy promises, but you’re the most important thing in the world to me. And there’s nowt I want more than to spend my life being in love with you. If you really think someone like me can make you happy.”

The slightest upwards curl at the edge of Fen’s lips. “Not someonelikeyou, Alfie Bell.”

“I’ve pretty much quit my job,” he blundered on hopelessly. “And you can apply for that theatre thing. And we’ll figure everything out together.” Alfie paused. Dug around in his soul, looking for the right words. And, suddenly, there they were. Tumbling out of him like the pied piper’s rodents. “I was thinking maybe I could learn to cook? And we could listen to musicals. And you could drive my car sometimes. And I could suck you off every morning and fall asleep next to you every night. And you could top me whenever you wanted cos when it’s you I like it and it’s okay. And maybe we could watchThe Shawshank Redemptionsomeday and you wouldn’t laugh when it makes me cry.”

He stopped for breath. Discovered he was gasping and slightly light-headed. Rushed on anyway. “And we could walk on the beach and maybe get a dog. I’d quite like a dog if you would. But not if you wouldn’t. Only let’s not have a cat because they’re snooty buggers. And maybe we could do this all the time,until, y’know, we’re not here anymore. Cos…well…that’s what love means to me. But it doesn’t mean anything at all really, without you.”

For a long, anguish-filled moment, Fen was silent. Then he was in Alfie’s arms, wound all around him like a climbing rose, sweet and wild, and not without his own dear thorns.

“Um,” said Alfie, “this is a yes, right?”

Fen laughed and kissed him. “Yes, Alfie Bell, it’s yes.”

“Fuck. Oh fuck.”

“Not quite the reaction I was hoping for.”

“Sorry. I’m just so…fucking relieved. I really thought… Fuck.”

“Come on”—Fen slipped from his embrace—“let’s get you inside before you swoon.”

“Oi. I’m just happy, alreet?”

“I’m not sure you deserve to be, the hell you put me through last week.”

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