The Professor's big chance

Chapter 1

Mandy Wilson, literary agent for professor Andrew Roberts has set up a meeting with a Netflix producer to buy the rights to his 1st book, Jack's war. Meanwhile Ben tries to persuade the professor to accompany him to his parents house for Easter.

I’m standing looking out of the large window of my 2 bed apartment. Early spring in Manchester, so far had been cold, the few people on the street were wrapped up in hats and coats against the cold wind that blew out of the east. It was dusk outside and the room was dim,only being lit by my standard lamp. In my hand was a crystal tumbler, it contained a small amount of cognac and a single ice cube. I'd been in my apartment all day and had been trying to finish my next factual history book about Italy's role in the 1st world war and how it impacted on the subsequent rise of Benito Mussolini and facism in that country. 

I sipped at my cognac, trying to settle my nerves. I had a dinner date with my literary agent, accompanied by some producer from Netflix and an entertainment Solicitor, I had asked Ben to accompany me. He seemed to keep me calm, whether it was by his mere presence,infectious personality, simply being by my side or his intelligence I wasn’t sure. He also has a knack of asking the right question at the right time. Simply put, Ben keeps me sane. 

In the run up to Easter which is only a couple of days away, Ben was going to visit his parents, they lived in a small town called Penwortham, it lies on the southern bank of the River Ribble, south of Preston in Central Lancashire. He was trying to persuade me to go with him for the weekend. I was reluctant. How would it look to his parents if he turned up with his 52 year old former history professor on his arm. My phone pinged as a text came through. It was from Ben.

I’m on my way see you at 7pm x

I replied, great see you soon.

I downed my cognac and put the empty glass down on a small table by my sofa, glancing at my watch it read, 6.30 I had an ½ an hour. The table wasn’t reserved until 8pm. But Mandy wanted a chat with me before so we agreed to meet slightly earlier. 

Gossamer mists of steam floated around my ensuite bathroom as I contemplated my time so far with Ben. Since our 1st meeting on Christmas Eve we’d remained friends and so far there hasn't been a repeat of what had happened in the very early hours of Christmas morning. He wants to take things further, but the age difference alone, 27 years, 27 fucking years, I think is too much.That alone makes it hard for me. He wants to go clubbing,although admittedly not often, while I like quiet nights in. He loves sex, I can quite happily live without it. He quite happily watches Ru Paul's drag race, and soap operas. I hardly ever watch television. He’s happily exuberant and a chatterbox, while I’m quiet, moody and introspective. I simply can't understand his fascination with me at all. Ok we both love history and music. We both found out we love walking in the countryside, although we have yet to partake in that particular pastime. We do enjoy some of  the same things, but there are differences as well. Besides when we first got together on Christmas Eve, I wanted, and needed a friend. Not a lover, especially one 27 years younger than me. It’s not in Ben's best interest and it’s definitely not good for me. One, if not both of us will get hurt in the end besides when I’m 72 Ben will be only 45 that factor alone puts me off. If only we were closer to the same age, students together, not student and former professor. 

I climbed out of the shower and dried myself off, wiping the condensation off the mirror I glanced at my reflection and saw the stubble that Ben had persuaded me to grow, I ran my hand over it, I must admit Ben was right it does make me look more distinguished, he’d even bought me a fancy shaver to make it easier to keep it trim. Thinking of Ben brought back memories of Christmas with my sisters. 

 I awoke Christmas morning with a start, when I remembered that there was another person in my bed. Then I remembered in horror what had occurred the previous night. I’d had sex, not only that but sex with a former student. I rubbed my eyes.Fuck. Now what? cue embarrassment. Ben woke and sat up in bed. He let the duvet slip down revealing his toned upper body. Then he stretched. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, god he’s beautiful I thought to myself.

“ Morning prof, Merry Christmas”. 

He leaned in for a kiss. I avoided it by standing up.

“I’m off for a shower”. I said gruffly.  More gruffly than I meant, but still. With that I stood and walked into the ensuite. 

After we had both showered and dressed we had a light breakfast of cereal and a cup of tea, then while I washed up the pots, Ben dried. All the time Ben, chattering excitedly about his trip with me. 

 It didn't take long to stop at Ben's apartment, he changed and packed a bag. I waited and watched as Ben walked out of his bedroom with a clean pair of snug wrangler jeans and a clean Christmas jumper, this one blue with a smiling face of Father Christmas on it. Fucks sake, I thought to myself rubbing my eyes. He put on a thick coat and hat and with that we left. The snow hadn’t melted and wasn’t deep. Just an inch or so, so the roads were clear and quiet. 

The ringing of the doorbell jerked me out of my reminiscences. I was still sitting on the bed naked. “ fuck”, I muttered. “coming”, I shouted, and donned a dressing gown.

I answered the door, as I expected, on the other side was a smiling Ben. His smile turned into a grin when he saw my attire.  

“Wow Prof you certainly know how to put on a show, but have you seen the time”?

“I’m well aware of the time young man, I was…. I mean I got caught up in writing my new book. It won’t take long to change, give me 5 minutes. How’d you get here anyhow”?

“I walked”. Said Ben taking off his hat and coat then following me into my bedroom and sitting down on the bed.

I gave him a level look, to try, without telling him he was intruding on my privacy.

“What”? Asked Ben looking at me with an innocent smile on his face.

“ Would you mind waiting outside so I can change…. Please”?

“ Unless you’ve grown a second cock while I’ve been working these last couple of days there’s nothing I haven’t seen before. So stop messing and get dressed”.

I sighed and opened my wardrobe taking out  one of my tweed jackets, a green shirt and blue trousers. I then took off my dressing gown. Ben stopped me.

“Really? A tweed jacket you’re kidding me right? Here let’s see what else you have in here”. 

“Now who's messing? what’s wrong with my tweed jacket anyway”?

Ben ignored my question and rummaged through my wardrobe. 

“ Oh for fucks. Look”, Ben said, “put these on”. He gave me a light blue shirt and a green jumper. “ And take off that  green shirt”. 

 “We’re going to the Ivy, not McDonald’s. A jumper really”? We should be wearing jackets. I said putting the shirt and jumper on anyway.

“Yes, a jumper, look at me”. Ben was wearing a pale pink jumper and a white shirt underneath, “the look is cool and contemporary," continued Ben.

“This is 2024 not 1934. Smart and casual. Not stuffy like a tweed jacket”. 

“There's nothing wrong with tweed jackets, they're comfortable, hard wearing and smart. What's not to like about a tweed jacket? Wait, you're wearing jeans and trainers? to the ivy?” 

“Yes jeans and trainers there’s nothing wrong with them”. Ben said. He turned round  and showed his snug fitting wrangler jeans and gave his bum a wiggle for good measure. “See”?

“I’m well aware of your assets. Thank You very much”. I replied. Fastening my belt and putting on my  black Oxford shoes. Secretly I enjoyed the banter between us.“ Oh by the way you look really nice Ben”.

“Aww thanks Prof, you do as well, now”. Replied Ben, giving me a peck on the cheek. We wandered back into the hall.

“Come on prof”. Said Ben putting his hat and coat back on. 

My phone pinged. “ Taxis here”. I said to Ben. I put on my woolen coat and hat and let Ben go first, I put out the lights and let the door lock behind me. I followed Ben down the corridor to the lift. 

The Ivy is a high class restaurant in spinningfields Manchester it’s on 3 floors, the Brasserie is on the ground floor, that is the one that Mandy chose for us. There is also a Chinese restaurant on the next floor with the Roof Garden on the top floor. That’s where Mandy met us. 

I’ve known Mandy for about 15 years. Although she’s a pain in the posterior. She’s been a massive help for my writing career. And she’s well deserving of the Nickname, wicked witch of Manchester. She’s pushed me in the right direction when needed. Gives me deadlines when a work needs finishing, gives me a hard time when necessary, but at the same time being supportive, and encouraging as well. Luckily she’s well aware of how much research some of my books need, in some cases like the current one I’m writing, years. She’s got shoulder length, straight red hair.About 5ft 8 inches tall, green eyes with a full mouth and a perky little nose. I’ve never asked Mandy her age, a gentleman never asks a lady her age. 

We walked into the bar, Mandy was waiting at a table with a gin and tonic in her hand. She was wearing an orange jumper, a black knee length skirt, black nylon tights and black stilettos. When she stood up she shouted.

“Ben how lovely to see you again, you look incredible, so smart and handsome. I simply don’t know what you see in that grumpy old man”. She went on. “Professor, no tweed Jacket? I’m shocked”. 

“ A change is as good as a rest, it was Ben's Idea for me to dress like that. And thinking about it, he had the right idea”.

Ben looked as pleased as punch at my words and replied.

“The Prof looks really smart, I’m glad I persuaded Andrew to keep his tweed jacket in his wardrobe”.

Ben put his arm around me as he spoke, I didn’t resist or pull away. It just wouldn’t have looked right. Mandy just smiled and took her seat. I bought myself a cognac and  Ben said he’d have a lager. We Took our drinks and seated ourselves at the table Mandy had chosen. Ben sat close by my side.

The ivy roof garden is on the top floor, the glass panels and a glass ceiling gives it panoramic views of the surrounding area. Potted plants, some quite large, give it a feeling of pleasant calm, red leather bench seats are on the side against the wall, and red and green leather chairs with a subtle Paisley pattern are opposite. Gold tables are in the middle. Mandy took the chair and Ben and I sat together on the bench. 

“So” began Mandy. “The book deal is now official. After our solicitors have given it the ok. Max has told me via email that your draft is being proofread as we speak. An editor will be assigned to you in due course, who will deal with you personally. Max said to expect your manuscript back 3 or 4 times before it’s ready to publish. 

He also said that deadlines might be strict if you want your book published sooner rather than later. They will ask your advice on the book cover and layout etc, and he wonders if there will be any pictures, maps etc”.

“I’m well aware of the process, Mandy I’m a published author, in case you’d forgotten.”

Mandy scowled at me. “ I know that dumb arse, but it’s your 1st time with this publisher. I’m passing on information that Max has sent me, that’s my job, Andrew. And I'm going to keep on doing it, that’s if you want me to of course”.

“Of course I want you to carry on, believe it or not I’m grateful for everything you do.even though we do rub each other up the wrong way. Regarding maps and pictures. I don’t think there’s a need for pictures, but a map now that’s a good idea, but drawing isn’t my strong point”.

“I can draw a map, if you’d like me to”. Said Ben, he carried on.

“A simple one page map of where the plot of the book takes place. Leave it with me I will need to research and get back to you”.

“ Aww you really think you could do that”? asked Mandy.

“Of course, I’m a teacher. I can keep 11 to 15 year olds interested in history, researching and drawing a map of 17th century Preston will be child’s play”.

“We both thanked Ben. “I’ve nearly finished Italy's 1st world war, subtitled, and the rise of Mussolini. Give me a week and I will have the 1st draft for you. I assume it’s going to the usual publisher”?

“Yes Bloomsbury press, I’m not sure if Max will be interested or not, do you want me to approach him”?

“No it’s ok it’s not his type of book, it’s a drier book for professors, degree and phd students. Manchester university press is perfect”.

The brasserie at the Ivy is a plush restaurant, with lots of mirrors and potted plants, the chairs are in either brown leather or green fabric, the benches are a green floral pattern, ground to ceiling windows let in lots of natural light, the 1st thing you see as you enter is the large oval shaped bar in the middle. With brown  leather stools around the outside, you would be forgiven for thinking the place looks garish. But the effect looks smart and opulent.

The head waiter led us to an oval table set for 5. We sat and another waitress asked us what drinks we would like. Neither Ben or I had eaten here before, Ben looked around saying how much he admired the decor. I was impressed as well, but kept my thoughts to myself.

Our drinks duly arrived, a cognac for myself, a lager for Ben and a gin and tonic for Mandy. Ben spoke.

“This place is impressive, I like it, I'm glad I’m not footing the bill though”. He took a sip of his pint and sighed, settling back on the bench seat next to me. 

“The Netflix producer is footing the bill, so no need to worry on that account Ben”, replied Mandy. 

“Cool” was all Ben said. I was the next to speak. 

“Speaking of which, when is he due? This producer”.

“He’s here now”. We stood.

A man best described as a full frontal assault on the eyes and ears was ushered over to us.

In one hand he carried a briefcase, the other was waving madly.“Darlings, how are we all? Doesn't this place look fabulous”? Without stopping he continued. “You must be Mandy, you look fabulous darling”. He gave her a hug. “And you must be the infamous professor”, he also gave me a hug. “. I just love your book. I can’t wait to get it on the screen, darling”. Ben all the while had the biggest smile on his face, trying hard not to laugh. Mandy and I just looked shocked. Then his attention turned to Ben.

“And just who is this delectable creature”? He hugged Ben a bit longer than was comfortable and kissed him lightly on both cheeks, Ben did likewise, I for my part said nothing although I felt uncomfortable. “ You look absolutely edible, so, so handsome darling”, "I just love your jeans darling”. Ben's mouth, by now, was opening and closing in shock.

Finally we sat and the man ordered a pink gin, he sat opposite Ben and I, smiling predatorily at Ben. I managed to get a look at him, while he waffled on about how fabulous Mandy looked and how handsome Ben was. He looked about 40. His hair was black though it was graying slightly at the edges and tied into a man bun. He had a dark shaggy beard and light brown eyes, he wore a bright yellow v neck jumper without a shirt, showing a hairy chest. His jeans were green, skinny and ripped fashionably. Red trainers completed his look. He was loud, garish and outrageously camp. 

“I do apologize darlings in the excitement of meeting you all. I forgot to tell you my name, Sebastian kale, Netflix producer”. 

I rubbed my hands through my hair, if this is the guy that wants to make Jack's war into a tv series or film. Then it will all glitz and glamor, soldiers wearing tight silver uniforms encrusted with sequins and such, singing on a musical stage. I wasn’t a happy bunny, and my face showed my frustration. Mandy was glaring at me, and Ben, well he had his hand on my knee trying to calm me. 

Sebastian, I realized, hadn’t shut up. “ So Ben, how do you earn a crust my darling”?

“Oh erm, I’m a history teacher, the professor here was my mentor”.

Sebastian had his chin resting on his intertwined fingers, his elbows resting on the table and his head cocked to one side.

“Fabulous darling, such a noble profession, teaching the future CEOs of the country”.

“Oh it’s not that exciting, let me assure you. Now the professor here is exciting. His lectures are legendary, he acts out battles with swords and rifles,all fake obviously and marches about the stage, and his put downs are awesome”.

Awesome eh" he replied. “ So go on, professor put me down”.

I gave him a level look, it was almost as if I was on a stage with a lectern in front of me, full of confidence I said.

“I don’t need too Sebastian, I’d never pick you up in the first place young man”.

Both Mandy and Ben laughed at my answer, I carried on.

“When you sow, so I will reap, that’s a lesson you need to learn Sebastian”.

“I'm not sure what you mean”. He answered,  slightly red faced”.

“No, I don’t suppose you do”.

Another man was ushered over to us, who was also Carrying a briefcase and was asked what he wanted to drink,shaking our hands, he replied just an orange Juice please, he then sat next to Sebastian, he was the polar opposite to him, he looked about 30,  he had high cheekbones and full lips, his hair was brown, and cut and combed neat, his eyes were gray, he wore a dark blue suit, white shirt and a yellow tie. He was handsome,although I suspected he wasn’t aware of the fact. He introduced himself.

“I’m Greg Hartnel, an entertainment solicitor, I work for Barkley Associates of London, sorry I’m late, traffic was a nightmare . And I’m here to look over the contract between Netflix represented by Sebastian Kale and Professor Andrew Roberts. Represented by Mandy Wilson, Mandy and I nodded.  Ben and Sebastian stared at the new guest, almost drooling. 

“I’m Sebastian kale,Netflix producer, so glad to meet you darling, intelligent as well as handsome, perfect darling”. He said, offering his hand.

He shook the offered hand politely “I would like if at all possible to keep it professional”. Was Greg’s flat reply. 

Sebastian looked dumbfounded, though soon recovered.

“So sorry darling, you’re right of course, I will keep it professional, in return you all can call me Seb, all my friends call me Seb”.

“No problem Seb”, replied Mandy, nobody else replied though Ben looked fit enough to burst and was trying his hardest not to laugh. It was at this time a waiter came to take our orders for our meals.

Seb ogled the handsome, slim, blue eyed blond young waiter openly, as did Ben, me Greg and Mandy just acknowledged him, we then gave our orders. 

The meal itself was eaten in either companionable silence or in genial chatter, Mandy chatted to everyone, as did Seb, Ben and I chatted to Greg, he answered our questions politely, and asked us questions about our lives which we answered in the same manner. He told us he took a similar profession as his father, who was a barrister,  saying he specializes in giving legal advice to entertainers, authors and anyone else in the public eye, he studied at Oxford before getting his vocational training at his fathers office which was Barclay associates, he was then lucky enough to be offered a full time position there, that was 3 years ago and he loves his chosen profession.

“I took an instant liking to Greg, he seemed solid, dependable and professional. Unlike Seb. Greg was handsome as well, a fact that Ben mentioned. Greg blushed and replied that he wanted to keep it professional but thanked him anyway, like the rest of us Greg  seemed taken with Ben, something I felt jealous of, for some reason.

“Excellent meal”. I said as the same blond waiter took away our empty plates. I noticed that Seb whispered quietly into the waiter’s ear, which made the young man blush, then Seb put a note in his free hand, which made him blush even more, then he scurried away. I shook my head at Seb, but he just smiled at me unconcerned. 

“Right down to business”. Said Mandy as she stirred her coffee cup, I believe, Seb, you have a contract for us to look at regarding Andrew’s 1st book. Jack's war”. 

Sebs manner changed completely. No more of the outrageous, camp player, but a calm composed producer, that was all business.

He opened up his briefcase, “That’s right Mandy. I have here 3 copies of a contract to buy the rights to jack's war, the original is with our solicitors”. He handed Mandy, Greg and me a copy. He also took out a copy of the book, he then snapped shut his briefcase, and placed it on the floor.

“I read Jack's war on holiday, in the south of France. I loved it, and immediately knew it had to be filmed, I originally thought to make into a tv series, but I’ve since thought that, because there is no follow up, neither is there a need for one, that it would be better made into a film, if you look at the contract, it states that Netflix has agreed to pay the author Andrew Roberts the sum of £100.000, I think that’s a fair sum for a book that’s  20 years old”.

Ben whistled at the sum mentioned, but then asked.

“Would the fact that it’s never been out of print make it more valuable? Even though it’s never sold in massive numbers, it’s sold consistently well in all that time”

“I see now Andrew darling, why you brought him along, good question Ben, it’s made it more valuable to us, usually we would offer less for a 20 year old book, but because its sales have been so consistent for so long we thought we would offer more Ben darling”.

Greg had been glancing through the contract, saying nothing, but then added to the conversation.

“Glancing through this it contains all the usual things, like the author can’t involve himself with any production or scripting issues or changes to the book for filming purposes covered by the contract therein but Netflix reserves the right to ask advice of said author. It also says it absolves the author of any contractual obligations regarding jacks war, all pretty standard stuff, I will take it back with me and read it more thoroughly then get back to you regarding any issues I find, might I also advice, with all respect to Mandy I’m sure you’re aware of the fact that if you offered the rights to jack's war to another party, say Disney+ for example, you could get a nice little bidding war going on and make more money”.

“ Yes I’m aware of that fact Greg”. Replied Mandy. “Seb contacted us 1st and I arranged this little get together, I’m also aware that it’s my duty as Andrew’s agent that it’s my job to earn Andrew as much money for his work as possible, I’m also aware that lecturing to students and being a professor at Manchester university is Andrew’s main line of work and passion not writing”.

I could have kissed Mandy at that moment, I’m so glad she’s in my corner, that's why I had remained quiet so far, but I had to enter the conversation.

“Money is of little intrinsic value to me Seb, what is important to me is the integrity of my work. Can you assure me that jacks war won’t be changed too much, you won’t for example, have soldiers wearing silver and gold uniforms prancing about like their on a broadway stage, what is important to me is the realism, the dirt, mud, flies, cockroaches, the stench of the trenches, of death, the dead bodies of men and horses, the noise of the artillery, the fact that at any moment a man could get blown to pieces and also the specter of no man’s land, that is important to me Seb, if you can’t guarantee that then there’s no deal and nobody around this table can change my mind”.

“I get you Andrew,really I do, there will need to be changes,But I can guarantee soldiers won’t be wearing silver and gold and prancing about like they’re  on a broadway stage, as you so eloquently put it. What I loved about the book was the pictures you painted with the words you wrote. I was there in the trenches with Jack. Let me read this part to you, this will prove to you I want to make this as authentic and true to the book as possible”.

The Somme June 1916.

“The warm weather had carried on into June, the stink of rotting flesh hung in the air like a pall. The fact that there was little to no escape from the hot sun that beat down made things even worse,The stagnant water in the shell holes carried mosquitoes  on the breeze. Dam flies were everywhere, the bodies of fallen comrades and even horses shot or drowned in the endless quagmire of deep undrying mud that was everywhere, sticking to everything, man and beast alike, there were even dead bodies hanging on the barbed wire. Maggots and cockroaches crawling out of empty eye sockets, the total horror of it all was enough to make grown man go insane with madness. I’d seen it with my own eyes. A man standing there shaking like a dead leaf on a windy day suddenly screamed a maddening, horrific scream, he ran and climbed over the top running into no man's land. We shouted to him urging him to come back, I don’t know if  he heard us. Then there was a single gunshot and the screaming stopped. I never found out which side shot him”. 

When Seb stopped there was a moment’s silence. To hear my own words said back to me was a moving experience, it made me realize that I loved writing and lecturing about such horrors to try, in my own way, to prevent it from ever happening again. 

“ Then on top of all that”. Seb continued, “ we as readers come to realize that Jack, surrounded by all this horror, is a gay man. And that he and his commanding officer are in love.And that love was doomed from the start, not only by the conventions and the class war of the time but because of the war itself. It’s such a moving book, for more than one reason, that’s  why I fell in love with the book, and that is why I intend to make it into a film, called "Jack's war”. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed my book Seb, that is why I write them so everyone can escape the modern world for a while. And hopefully realize that no matter how bad modern life is, it was worse in the past”. Was my response. 

“Well said” answered Greg, I will read it as well when I get the chance. By the way, take your copies of the contract home and read through them, any questions,  Mandy can contact me and I will answer them for you”. Greg then picked up his briefcase, opened it and placed his copy of the contract inside, he then stood.

“With that I will bid you goodnight. And Thankyou for a lovely meal”. He shook our hands, gave Mandy a hug and walked off.

After that the rest of us parted company. Mandy told me she would contact me with news when she had it. We all hugged and left the ivy. 

In the cab back to my apartment, Ben and I were silent for a short time, “that Greg was a good looking guy wasn’t he”? Asked Ben,

“Yes he is, though I thought he didn't realize just how handsome he is. But Seb on the other hand was a piece of work, I thought he was a bit of a prat at the start, but in the end I thought he was very professional. Oh by the way thanks for coming Ben, you were a big help and a lot of support, I feel more comfortable with you around”. 

“My pleasure Prof, I loved it. I really struggled to keep a straight face with sebs antics. Darling”, he mimicked sebs camp style and hand gestures, which raised a laugh out of us both. 

“Speaking of being more comfortable around me. I enjoy your company”. He thought for a moment then carried on. 

“Have you thought about coming back to mum and dads with me, I hope you do, you helped me so much over Christmas and we had a blast at new year, please come, please”

This was the moment I was dreading, I took a deep breath and spoke. “Erm no I’m not Ben, look, the age difference alone is scary for me. When I’m 72 you will only be 45, I can’t go, it won’t be good for either of us, you taking your former history lecturer to meet his parents when there’s a 27 year age difference”.

“It almost sounds like you don’t want to see me again Prof, what has age difference got to do with you coming to mum and dads with me”? His voice rose in tone as he spoke and the smile had gone. 

“ I can’t go Ben, it doesn’t look right to me, you being a former student, going to meet your parents, with a former lecturer in tow doesn’t look good. please look at it from my perspective”.

“ your perspective, your perspective, it’s always about you, it’s never about anyone else is it, have you thought that I’m returning the help you gave me at Christmas”?

“I am looking at it from your perspective. What happens if your parents don’t like me, or disapprove of me being there, honestly Ben it’s nothing personal, and as for wanting never to see you again, that’s a silly thing to say. You make it sound like we’re in a relationship when we’re not, where friends that’s all”. 

“That’s a horrible thing to say, I’ve tried to help you with your confidence, helped with research, I’ve been a friend and confidant, met for a beer, always on a Sunday when you go out, never any other night, all I’ve ever done since Christmas is be there for you I came out tonight to be with you for the meal tonight, it’s always about you, not once have you done anything for me”. He was getting really angry, and upset by now. 

“Look, that came out wrong. I really value your friendship, but that’s it friendship”.

“But Andrew, I want more than friendship can’t you see that. What happened Christmas morning was the most magical thing to happen. I've been so lonely since I moved to Manchester, then seeing you again gave me hope. I know there’s a big age gap but I don’t care. It’s you I care about, you Andrew. I ask you again to come to Penwortham with me Andrew”.

“No sorry. I can’t”.

“That’s it?you can’t? after everything? After me pouring my heart out to you? You say you can’t? Or is it more like you won’t”?

 By now tears were falling down Ben's cheeks. I felt heartless and cruel. But I simply couldn’t get it over to him. So I took the easy way out and said nothing. I just hung my head not knowing what to say. All my insecurities, coming back to haunt me. Silent, embarrassed. Wanting to be alone. Knowing that I fail in friendships because people think I’m selfish. 

Ben grew strong again. “So that’s it then? The silent treatment? Saying nothing because you're wrong and you know it. Deep down you know it. But you're too ashamed to admit it. Fuck this, just fuck it. I might as well go and look for Greg or Seb. They both want me, especially Seb. He’d look after me, I could be a researcher for Netflix. they're both loaded, and I bet they would be willing to look after me. Either one could be a sugar daddy for me. Fuck you Andrew. Driver stop, I want to get out”. 

The taxi pulled up and I made one last effort. “ Ben, please don’t do anything rash. Don’t go”.

“Tough”. Was all Ben said,he got out of the taxi and walked into the night. 

“Were to boss”? The taxi driver asked. I told him and sat in silence, staring out of the window, brooding. 

I sat on my sofa. I thought about our Christmas together with my sisters, how they had welcomed Ben in without judgment, we slept in the same bed. Ben laughed and joked, fitting in so naturally. Everyone loved his happy demeanor. I laughed and smiled with him as we opened our presents that Rachel had bought. And how grateful he was that Rachel and Dave loved the bottle of wine he was able to buy at the motorway services on Christmas morning. On Boxing Day my other sister had welcomed him in as well, Ben had even helped in the kitchen preparing food. How he made her laugh. We’d been asked by Rachel and Dave to stay another day. We went to the rose and crown for a meal with them. Then they joined in karaoke. When Ben and I left, Ben had new friends. And now I had, as usual, blown it. My whole family had bent over backwards for Ben and I and I just didn’t realize it.

Am I selfish? Maybe I could meet Ben on different nights of the week, but once a person gets to a certain age you can get stuck in a rut. Especially if you're single like me. Ben swept into my life on a breeze of happiness, and because of my taciturn ways I’ve lost him, that is my fault. I suppose I am selfish in manner, but it isn’t deliberate. It’s just that I’ve been single all my life, and at the age of 52, when another person wants a relationship, especially when he’s 25, that is a nettle that’s hard to grasp.

I went to bed and tried to sleep, but too many thoughts were running through my head. I found sleep an impossible thing to find. Tossing and turning, thinking and brooding. I finally gave up and got out of bed. Rubbing my eyes I sat on the edge of my bed, the very same bed that Ben and I had made love in. The love that Ben had found to be the most magical time. And I’d thrown it away. 

My phone rang. I looked at the time while answering it. 1.45am.

“Hello prof”?

“Hello”?

“ Prof it’s me Ben”. He sounded weak.

“What’s wrong Ben, you ok”?

“Prof. I’m on my way to the hospital. I’ve been mugged. Please come”.

“Oh Ben, I’m on my way”

End of chapter 1.