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Scripps picked up the phone, clamping it between his ear and shoulder as he flipped through the address book. Beside him, Maisie was slamming her fist down on the piano keys, giggling at the horrific clashes she was making. "If you want to learn, I'll teach you, noisy!" he said out of the corner of his mouth as he finally located Dakin's home number. Maisie responded by grinning at him and bashing louder, still in her ballet leotard and tights. Smiling back distractedly, he punched in the number and waited.
After many rings- "Hello?"
Scripps bit his lip frustrated-it was a female voice. "Hey!" he said politely, through gritted teeth. "Laura, is it?"
"Yeah?" Laura drawled. She sounded eerily like a female Dakin, the northern twang diluted by two years of university in the south.
"Is your brother around?" he asked, as casually as he could, turning his back on Maisie as she thumped the keys.
"Probably…I don't know…Hang on." The sound of the chord thumping against the receiver as she held it away from her. "Stuart! It's one of your stupid little geek friends!"
Scripps raised an eyebrow as he waited, leaning against the wall. He could hear distant crashes on the other end of the phone as the receiver passed from one Dakin sibling to the other. "Hello?" came the familiar voice of his classmate, a male Laura with the northern twang intact. Scripps felt a jolt of nerves in his stomach.
"Dakin? It's me."
Silence.
"Dakin?"
"What?" the voice on the other side of the phone snapped.
"Just…just thought I'd give you a ring," Scripps said carefully, keeping his tone as light and ordinary as possible. "To see how you were." he added.
"Why? I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" Dakin spoke sharply, defensively.
"Dakin…" Scripps clutched the receiver closer to his cheek, as if that would help his cause. "Look, mate, I'm really worried about you. After what happened last night, I thought-"
"What the fuck?" Forced laugher bubbled from Dakin. "Mate, I have no idea what you're talking about!"
Scripps blinked, taken aback. "Come on, mate, don't play that game. I…" He paused, letting a hand slide down his face. "I was going to ask if you wanted to go for a drink this evening or something…and talk it over?"
Another silence.
"Dakin? Come on, answer me. We need to-"
"We don't need to do anything!" Dakin coughed out more laughter, adopting a mocking tone. "Come on, Saint Scripps, don't be a wanker. Of course I'm fine, I'm halfway through Irwin's fucking Kristallnacht essay. Have you started it?"
"Dakin…" Scripps took a deep breath. "Stop it."
"Stop what?" Dakin asked, his voice so deliberately light and casual it made Scripps want to throw the phone against the wall.
"Stop avoiding the subject. We need to talk about what happened yesterday so we can both move on."
A snort. "I still have no idea what you're on about. If you haven't started the essay I'm off. See you."
"No-!"
But the dialling tone had already sounded.
Scripps let out an exasperated sigh, slamming the receiver into his forehead. He could feel his skin burning with frustration and embarrassment. Having half-expected this to happen, it wasn't so much anger as worry. He hadn't stopped worrying about Dakin since the kiss…oh fuck, that kiss…Scripps absent-mindedly rubbed his lips with the back of his hand. He hated that it had happened, probably more than Dakin clearly did, no matter how much he tried to pretend otherwise. David had been wonderful about it, but it had broken Scripps' heart to hear him call himself "nothing". To hear the person you loved tear themselves down…Scripps could not bear it. It had just made him more determined than ever to care for him and love him as much as the laws of physics allowed until David learned to love himself…
"What was that?" Maisie asked vaguely, still hammering the piano with her small fist. Scripps started-he'd almost forgotten she was there. Quickly, he picked himself up.
"Oh nothing. Shouldn't be eavesdropping, cheeky!" Scripps said cheerily, leaning over her shoulder. Gently, he laid a well-practised hand on the keys, thumb on "C", middle finger on "E" and little finger on "G". He played the chord with a flourish, while Maisie watched. "That's a "C" chord, that is."
"Show me, show me!" Maisie put her starfish hand over Scripps', stretching to reach. Scripps gently adjusted her, then slipped his hand out from underneath hers, leaving her to bash the keys, noisy "C" chords blasting out of the old instrument as Maisie laughed delightedly. "C!" she shouted, giggling.
"Well, if you're going to be loud, you might as well be tuneful!" Scripps squeezed her shoulder. He looked down at her auburn head, still pulled back tightly into her ballet bun. He patted the top of her head, wishing, as he often did, that Maisie didn't have to ever grow up.
"You look tired, dear." Mrs Posner leaned over the lunch table to pass her youngest son a bowl of chicken soup. "Look at your eyes! All pale and purple…"
"Mum, I'm fine." Posner quickly busied himself with a deep drink of Ribena.
"No more nights on the town, hey?" Posner's father grinned at him. Posner forced himself to smile back, determined to conceal the truth behind his sleepless night. A while ago, Dakin often occupied his thoughts for hours before he could finally fall asleep-but only last night had it filled him with horror. He dived into his soup as if he was starving, trying to avoid talking.
"Well, I for one can't wait until next Saturday!" his mother was saying, pouring wine. "When Aaron and Esther are coming home."
"Yes!" his father replied enthusiastically. "It will be nice to have all the kids here."
"And their kids!" Mrs Posner beamed proudly. "Emily phoned last night-little Oliver is growing at a rate of knots! He's already outgrown the little outfit we got him for his birthday! Do you remember? With the ducks on the pockets."
"Little champ." Mr Posner grinned. "He'll outgrow the lot of us, won't he, son?"
"Mmmm." Posner agreed vaguely, half-listening to the chatter about Aaron's promotion, his wife Emily's charity work, their son Oliver's precociousness. Posner had not seen much of his nephew since he was born, as Aaron and Emily had moved to Gloucestershire to be closer to Emily's parents. It would be good to see the little fellow-Scripps would love to hear all about him, being so fond of children. Posner nodded at appropriate intervals as the conversation moved to Esther and her new husband Dan, the GP. Posner did not like Dan-he was smarmy and patronising-but it was Esther who had to live with him. They'd moved south as well-only to Birmingham this time, but nonetheless south. Posner wondered, as his mother reached over to pinch his cheek, whether his parents would ever take the hint.
"It won't be long before Esther will have a family of her own! It will be wonderful to have the house full of kids again…" Mrs Posner smiled sadly as him as she patted him. "My baby boy is almost grown up too! It won't be long before you'll have your own children…" Her eyes had become dangerously misty. Posner hid a burst of laughter with a coughing fit.
"Yes, isn't it time we set you up with a nice Jewish girl?" his father asked, face deadpan-before laughing to himself, shaking his head. "Kidding. Don't worry, son, you'll have no time for women at Cambridge! One less thing to worry about, hey?"
"Mmm." Posner agreed, concentrating on the soup.
"If he goes." Mrs Posner said, taking a sip of wine.
"Well, if he gets in, of course he's going to go!" Mr Posner looked at his wife as if she'd gone mad, giving Posner a sideways smirk. "And you've every intention of getting in, haven't you?"
"Mmmmm." Posner agreed, chewing a lump of meat that hadn't boiled down properly.
"But not yet!" Mrs Posner took a larger gulp of wine.
"Mmmmmmm." Posner agreed, thinking about Dakin again, the way he'd practically ran up the street away from the theatre last night…it made his stomach churn every time he thought about it. He bit his lip, before taking another spoonful of soup. There was more salt in it than usual…every time he imagined Dakin kissing Scripps, he felt physically sick…he felt violated…if Dakin had already guessed they were together, then he knew Scripps was not free to kiss…it felt as if Dakin was deliberately trying to hurt him…
"…don't you think so David?"
"Mmmmm."
"He did it to hurt me."
"Oh David, you can't think like that."
"I know he did." Posner muttered, one hand covering his mouth. He was very aware of his parents in the living room down the hall as he held the phone as close as he could to his face.
"I just told you-he's acting like he's forgotten about the whole thing!" Scripps protested, his voice normal on the other end of the line. "Maybe we should too. Move on."
"I can't," Posner whispered. "I keep…thinking about it."
"Oh…" Scripps sighed. "You can't carry on like this. I told you, it meant nothing to me. It was nothing like…nothing like how we kiss. It's not going to happen again."
"It's not about you." Posner clutched the receiver so tightly he felt it almost cutting into his skin. "It's him."
"We can't obsess over it," Scripps said, his voice level. "We have to move on. What is it going to take for you to do that? Whatever you need, I'll make it happen, okay?"
Posner thought for a moment. "I…I need him to…oh I don't know!"
"Look, we'll see him in the flesh on Monday. See how you feel then, okay? Just relax now. I can't bear to think of you so wound up."
Posner couldn't help but half-smile. "I'm always wound up."
"I know." Scripps said warmly. "Let be."
"Hamlet." Posner giggled. "Easy."
"Of course." Scripps gave a yawn. "I'm so bored. Can't you come over here? I miss you."
"We literally said goodbye like sixteen hours ago!"
"That's way too long. Practically a lifetime. Can't you come?" Scripps giggled. "Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you!"
"Scripps!" Posner clapped a hand to his mouth to muffle his laughter. "Stop quoting!"
"Oh God it is unutterable! I cannot live without my life!" Scripps persisted, still spluttering with mirth. "I cannot live without my soul!" he finished melodramatically.
"For goodness sake!" Posner hissed. "Stop it! My parents will hear me! And you have no taste!"
"What's wrong with Wuthering Heights?" Scripps acted wounded. "You're such a romantic, I thought you'd love it!"
"Shhh!" Posner begged. "I'm going to start laughing and then my parents will kill me."
"Why?"
"They don't like using the phone on the Sabbath."
"Oh! I'm sorry!" Scripps suddenly sounded mortified.
"No! No, I was the one who phoned you, remember?" Posner murmured. "I just really wanted to talk to you."
"Still, we should hang up. I don't want to be in your parents' bad books."
"Believe me, they'd be far less pissed about me using the phone today than they will be when they find out that one, I'm with someone, and two, he's both male and a Christian."
Scripps laughed apologetically. "Sorry. I should have been born a Jewish girl."
"No, I like you just as you are." Posner whispered.
"As I do you." Scripps said sincerely. "Look, if you can't get away today, meet me after church tomorrow. I don't think I can last until Monday without holding you again."
Posner felt his cheeks flush. "Oh…thanks?"
"Thanks!" Scripps burst out laughing again. "You said you wanted romance, then you pooh-pooh Wuthering bloody Heights and all you can muster after my purest display of passion is "thanks"! Lordy, I should be offended!"
Posner giggled, pressing his hand over his mouth. "Like I said. Just as you are." He shot a quick glance to the living room door, making sure it was still closed. "I wish you were here."
"And I you. I really do…" he whispered back. Posner knew Scripps would be clutching the phone just as tightly as he was…He checked the living room door was firmly shut once again, then looked all around. Nervously, he tried:
"You know, this is generally how phone sex starts…"
"David!" Scripps spluttered. "Cheeky! Right, it is definitely time for me to hang up."
"No!" Posner protested, desperate to keep him. "Don't do that!"
"I don't want to. I need to." Scripps tried to sound serious, but Posner could tell he was smiling. He felt a slight twinge of excitement inside him, wondering if he dared…
"Don't go," he purred. "I'd be dreadfully upset…you don't want to do that to me, do you?"
There was a great deal of coughing from the other end of the line. Posner waited anxiously. When Scripps finally spoke-his voice was strangely distant. "Keep talking like that and you'll make me do something I really don't want to do…" he murmured, voice hardly more than a groan.
"Yes, darling?" Posner breathed, hardly able to catch his breath…
"Bye, David."
"No!"
"I'm going now! Look, I'll see you tomorrow. You take care of yourself, okay? I lo…I can't wait."
"Goodbye-e, goodbye-e, wipe a tear baby dear from your eye-e." Posner sang as quietly as he could.
"Beautiful." Scripps grinned. "See you."
"See you."
