Page 35 of Note to Self
“I’m sorry they haven’t changed, Trent. And yeah, I wish you’d been here, but I’m just glad that you’re coming back. That you’ve decided to stay here.”
We talk for another five minutes, but I can hear how tired he is. We say goodbye, and I settle into my bed. It’s so weird being back in London; the noises are so different. Gone is the wind and scent of a wild sea, replaced by car horns and sirens. How did I ever think I was happy here?
A firm knock on the door signals the arrival of the estate agent. I straighten the cushions on the sofa one more time. The morning has been hectic, with dusting everywhere, washing floors that weren’t dirty—but I did it anyway—cleaning the bathroom, and vacuuming every room.
I show the estate agent around. He takes measurements and records his description of the rooms, then gives me an estimation of the value, which is higher than I expected. I’m making a decent profit, but it’s not a seller’s market, so I could be in for a wait for it to sell. If it had been a project house, it would sell more quickly, but everything has been updated and modernised.
“I’m not in too much of a hurry, and I’m not going to let it go for less than it’s worth,” I say.
“That’s probably best. It will sell. I just need to get the right person through the door. I’ll be in touch, Trent.” We shake hands, and he leaves.
There’s not much else for me to do but check that everything is turned off. I pick up the cases of clothes and some of the possessions I want to bring with me: books, paints, and canvases. I had those shut away because I was never brave enough to start again.
With it all loaded in my car, I pull away from the kerb and, without looking back, drive away. The route passes by the trendy high street full of coffee shops and bars, places I would meet Marc when he wanted to see me. As much as I want to keep my eyes firmly on the road, the slow-moving traffic gives me plenty of time to search the tables set out in front of each establishment.
I didn’t really expect to see him, but there he is, lifting a glass, probably gin and tonic, to his lips. Our eyes meet. Shock registers on his face. As the cars before me move again, I flip my middle finger up at him. A loud laugh breaks free as I take the next turn, away from Marc, away from London.
There’s only one place I want to be, and that’s with Merlin.
Being back on-site at the nursery at seven a.m. after such a full-on day yesterday is not fun, but the sight of my new home quickly washes away the exhaustion. I don’t remember saying goodnight to Trent, but I do recall him saying he’ll be back here today. My plan is to get as much done as possible so I can properly walk him around the rooms that weren’t built yet when he was here on Sunday. Maybe I’ll get a better response than I did then, but after the dreadful meeting with his parents, his thoughts could still be a long way from settled.
Drew greets me with a coffee and a bacon roll from Benny’s. “Here you go. Ready and willing for another day?”
“Thank you, and no, not really. Just about every part of me aches, and I consider myself fit. How do you do this every day?” I stretch my arms over my head, my spine creaking.
“I don’t. This is tough. I’m using muscles I’ve forgotten I had. You owe me a pint for this, mate.”
“You’re on. Trent should be back this evening.” A smile spreads over my face.
Drew rolls his eyes. “You’ve got it bad.”
“Says the man who only has to look at a certain little girl and is whipped.”
The building guys arrive, and all seem to have bags of food from Benny’s. The word must have got out. We laugh as I hold up the similar brown paper carry-out bags.
“Hey, Merlin, are you ready to see the roof go on? As long as the crane turns up in time, we can get this done today.” The boss of the crew points at the clear blue sky. “Good day for it too.”
Before I can answer, the rumble of the crane comes up the road. It’s a huge vehicle and barely makes it around the bend, but these operators are bloody good at their jobs. The costs of hiring him for the day are high, but it’s a skill not many have, so they can demand top dollar.
Drew stands next to me as the guys get to work. I nudge his shoulder. “Ever get the feeling you’re in the way?” I chuckle.
“I’m so impressed with the whole thing. The house is incredible. What gave you the idea?”
“I watched a programme about prefab homes. It was fascinating. Plenty of companies are now doing this. More people are going for sustainability, and obviously, the speed at which a house can be constructed saves on building time. I’m ready to be on-site full time to get this business off the ground. Trent talked about bee hives. He had them at the school where he worked. I’m hoping he’ll start some here.”
“Is it getting serious between you, then?”
“Yeah, I think so. You kinda rained on my parade when you said the cottage was his to stay in. I’m hoping he’ll want to live here with me. He’s my forever person. I’m not sure if he’s on the same page yet, but we’re getting there. He’s terrified of the exhibition being a disaster, and that’s all on his parents for putting him down and steering him away from art to science. His ex is an arsehole too, so his self-confidence is rock bottom.”
“Yeah, Merrick has talked a little about his family, how they favoured Josh, even though they hated that he was gay.They liked to boast about their architect son, although Trent was a successful teacher. In their eyes, it was only Josh who shone.”
“Yeah, Trent has said the same, but he loved his brother and had a great relationship with him. Josh had his back when it came to his parents. He knew what they were like and would protect him. Trent went to see them yesterday. It didn’t go well, so I think he’s cut ties with them permanently. I’m hoping he’ll feel better about himself when he gets back here.”
After watching the roofers get the frames up and being politely told that I’m not needed for this process, I leave them to it and focus on clearing the area that will become the private back garden, mainly a decked area, with plenty of seating for friends and a hot tub for just Trent and me. It’s not a chore I need to use my brain for, so as I methodically clear the fallen bricks, stacking them to be reused in a wall, memories of Trent and the night I finally got to bury myself deep inside him come back. The sounds he made, the way we fitted together, were like we were made for each other. I couldn’t get deep enough or kiss him for long enough. That was my commitment to him, burnt into my soul. I will never want another man. I only hope that Trent is on the same page.
When he left so soon after, my thoughts switched back and forth between options. Either it’s a way of getting his past in order so that he can leave that behind without a guilty conscience, or he’s getting away because it’s all too much to deal with.
It’s stupid. I’ve never been an insecure man. On the contrary, I’ve always been confident in my abilities to do my job and in my relationships with my friends. Yet Trent has me wrapped around his little finger. I’ve completely fallen for him.
