Page 41 of Sparring Partners
“Is that what you think I am? It’s true, I suppose. At least in part. But what about you? Weren’t you at one time that same city boy you mock me for being? I remember you mentioning a corporate job, and you don’t get too many of those in small Devonshire villages.”
“True enough. I studied in London and after university I got my foot on the first rung of the must-have career. It was like I was in a straight jacket and I hated every moment of it. I got up one morning and the weather was so good, it was spring and the world felt like it was full of possibilities which didn’t include being holed up in an office. Then and there, I made the decision to pack in the rat race along with the suits, shirts and ties that felt like they were strangling me. They all went in the bin. Literally.”
“That’s some decision to make. Did you come back here, to the farm? To take time to think about next steps?”
“No.” Adrian instantly regretted the snap in his voice. His lips twisted into something like an apology. “Sorry, didn’t mean to bite your head off, but coming back wasn’t an option. It would have felt too much like failure. Or that’s what I thought at the time. Returning with my tail between my legs. There was no way I was going to have that laid on me. I suppose,” he said, an unexpected shyness creeping over him, “in some ways I ran away. Not that I was going to admitthatto myself.”
“You don’t have to tell me any of this, not if you don’t want to. But, I’ve been told I’m a good listener.” Luca reached forward, resting his hand lightly on Adrian’s before withdrawing it. Reassurance and sympathy. Maybe even understanding. Adrian’s heart twisted hard. God, he craved that so much.
But opening up, being honest about what really mattered to him, about how he felt… When had that worked for him, when had thatnotturned around and kicked him in the teeth? His stomach clenched so hard he winced, and he hesitated, his instinct to back off and tuck everything firmly out of sight and close down. It was safer, it was the wise thing to do. But here, just the two of them with nothing but the breeze, the high wheeling birds, and the ancient stones, something inside him unlocked and loosened.
“I always seemed to be at odds with my mum and dad,” he said quietly. “Always, for as long as I can remember, we were locked in a never-ending battle. The only one I could ever talk to was my gran, and when she died the arguments with my parents only got worse. What they wanted for me, and what I wanted for myself, caused so much friction.
“The Hardys worked the land. It’s how it had been for generations, and it was how it was going to stay. I had other ideas, and I was going to break with tradition whether they liked it or not. Add in stubbornness and a refusal to listen or compromise, on both sides, meant the divide between us only got wider over the years until it became unbridgeable. When I left for university I was determined to never come back. And mostly I didn’t.”
“That was a huge decision for somebody who was still a teenager.”
“Not really. My nan was gone, and I’d never felt much connection with my parents. I was constantly locking horns with them. But the different ideas we had about the life I wanted to live went deeper than not accepting I’d be just another Hardy who worked the land. When I was sixteen, they found out I was gay.”
“Oh.”
Adrian snorted. “Oh. It’s one way of putting it, I suppose.” Adrian slowly shook his head, as the memory of that long ago day burnt bright behind his eyes.
“I’d decided to work up to telling my parents because even though I tried to tell myself I wasn’t shit scared, I was. So I told my brother first.” Adrian swallowed down the bitterness. “It was the worst thing I could have done.”
He stopped, closing his eyes for a moment, centring himself before he inched open the floodgates a little more.
“Richard was a couple of years older than me. We were very different, but close. Or I thought we were. I’d always looked up to him. And I loved him. He was so laid back, just got on with doing what Dad told him to do. Anything for a quiet life, he always said. I honestly thought he’d be okay with it, that I could confide in him and he’d have my back.”
“But he wasn’t and he didn’t.” Luca gave his arm a gentle squeeze. Adrian’s heart clenched, needing the solidarity in Luca’s touch more than he realised.
“He hit the roof.” Adrian swallowed. Richard’s betrayal after so many years was still hot enough to burn and scar. “He’d always been a good brother. He taught me how to ride a bike, he’d take me fishing, and help me with my homework when my parents either wouldn’t or couldn’t. I believed I’d be safe telling him.” He scraped a hand down his face. “But the things he called me, before he went straight to my parents, betraying something that was so important and central to who I was, outing me to them before I was ready.”
“Jesus. What did they say?”
“They were shocked, but I’ve got to give them their due because they didn’t wring their hands and start wailing.” He half snorted, half laughed. “It took the wind out of my brother’s sails. My dad said he’d always suspected, and then went off to milk the cows. My mum put the kettle on. That was the only time we talked about it, if you could call it that. It was like if it wasn’t acknowledged, it didn’t exist.”
“What happened with Richard?”
Adrian blew out a long breath. “His betrayal was something I could neither forget nor forgive. All the trust I put in him, all the belief and hope that he’d stand by me, he chewed it up and spat it in my face. He never explained why he did what he did, or why he felt how he did. I confronted him, but he refused to talk to me about it. It tore me up inside, not knowing why. Whatever reasons he had, he was keeping them to himself. So I kept my distance, or as much as I could. After what he did to me, I could never trust him again. I just kept my head down and plotted my escape.
“When I turned eighteen and got the A Level results I needed, I packed my bags and walked out. I never wanted to see the farm again, and I was determined not to.”
Betrayal. All his trust and belief thrown back in his face. First Richard, the brother he’d loved, but he hadn’t been the last…
“Why did you come back?”
Adrian hesitated as the memory, as bright as the sky above them, surfaced. A phone call from the other side of the world, in the early hours of the morning, when he’d been more asleep than awake, changing the course of his life and exposing the sense of rootlessness that had little by little been gnawing at him for years.
“My dad died in a farming accident, which is more common than you’d think. I was abroad, and I came back for the funeral. Or funerals as it turned out, because my mum died just days after. She’d had a dodgy heart for years, and we reckoned the shock of losing Dad killed her. Richard and I had nothing much to say to each other, and I left again as soon as I could, determined not to return. But I did, just a few months later. Richard was killed in a car accident. Hit and run. He wasn’t married, had no kids, so I ended up inheriting a farm I didn’t want.”
Luca tilted his head. “I remember you saying something. That you didn’t choose farming, farming chose you.”
“It wasn’t the life I wanted, I’d made a career of telling myself that. I was determined to sell up. After all the years I spent running from the place, I thought I could just let it go. But I couldn’t. Returning, in some twisted, bizarre way I couldn’t even begin to explain, I felt I’d come home. But I wasn’t on my own when I came back.” He met Luca’s steady gaze.
“Ah.”
“It didn’t work out. Obviously,” Adrian said, his voice rough and strained. “Not everybody’s cut out for the realities of rural living, as I soon found out. It can be a shock. What you take for granted in a town or city isn’t so easily come by in more remote areas. His name was Sam.” A man he’d believed in, trusted and loved. A man who’d lied, deceived and betrayed. “His romantic view of country living was soon knocked out of him. He couldn’t settle here. There were endless arguments. He packed up and left a couple of years ago, and when he did he didn’t leave on his own.”
