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Isola Di Fiore: M/M Romance by Lou Watton (2)

Chapter 2

 

When we entered, he froze in the middle of the room in hesitation. I knew very well what the problem was. I chuckled.

‘Look, you have to sit down on the bed. I don’t have other seating arrangements here. Sorry, it’s a bit untidy. I only pull the blanket over. Never bother smoothing it out.’

‘Jeez, you don’t need to justify anything. I came uninvited,’ he said sitting down.

‘I invited you.’

‘No, I came uninvited,’ he insisted, looking into my eyes. I knew he did.

‘Are you hungry?’

‘Oh, no.’

‘Tell me when you are. We’ll get something from the kitchen. Would you like a cup of coffee?’

‘Do you need to go anywhere to get it?’

‘No, I have a kettle here.’ I pointed to the small table just under the skylight.

‘Perfect. Thanks a million. You seem to have everything here,’ he said looking at the clutter on the table.

‘It’s a multitask table,’ I said, checking I had enough water and turning the kettle on. ‘When I need to use my computer, I use the bed as a chair. When I want to look over the roofs, I move the table against the bed and use it as a chair.’

‘Do you have a beautiful view here?’

‘It’s fantastic. But it’s only roofs and the sky.’

‘That can be pretty awesome.’

‘It is. I’ll show it to you in the morning.’

‘Am I staying here?’

‘I think you have to. Where else could you go at this hour?’

‘I’m very sorry for this intrusion.’

‘Don’t worry, it’s my own fault. I could have left you hanging there and be fast asleep now.’

He burst out laughing.

‘It’s true. Listen, I need a bit of time… err… I’m afraid to sound ungrateful, but I need a bit of time to appreciate what you’ve done for me. I need to first convince myself that my life has value… ’

‘I fully understand that. But perhaps, I can help you with this too. Do you want to talk?’

‘Actually, very much,’ he said looking into my eyes.

I sat down on the opposite side of the bed. I took one of the pillows and passed it over to him. We were now sitting in a V-shape, with our knees almost meeting and our heads leaning against the wall.

‘I hope it’s not money,’ I said.

‘Oh, no!’ he chuckled. ‘Well, indirectly it is. Listen, until recently I was in a close and loving relationship and I would have never thought I’d come to such a sad end.’

‘No, no… You haven’t,’ I raised my finger.

‘Sorry, I haven’t, of course. But I still don’t know where I’ll go from here. It’s already been a long life and it’s come to a deadlock.

‘I was an artist. Hmm… Sorry, I am an artist and I also write poetry. Well, poetry is mostly a hobby. I publish some of my stuff once in a while, but it’s no more than pocket money. However, I’ve had more luck with visual arts. I was lucky enough to be selected for a couple of major exhibitions. I also had a personal exhibition, but very low key. I manage to sell my works… from time to time. I have patrons. All in all it provides a fragile, irregular income.

‘My life was once full of adventure. I travelled a lot. I had a lot of men, never attempting to settle with anybody. But nevertheless it happened. I met a man whom I felt a very deep connection with. His name was Luke. It was love at first sight, yes, but still I never thought I would grow into him so deeply. He was a freelance journalist, and, like me, he didn’t have to work 9 to 5, was free to travel and never had enough money. I thought that professionally we were a perfect match, but it didn’t really matter, because we were so close. Because it didn’t matter what he was or what he did, I would have wanted to be with him regardless, to be close to him. I savoured every moment we spent together.

‘We had a very happy life and I felt it acutely, every day. Every day waking up by his side, I would be overcome with joy thinking that I would spend another day with this man, that we would go to our favourite cafés, would discuss the news, would buy something for our flat… would spend a few hours working in my studio… We would work together. He had put his desk in my studio, so that we could exchange a word every now and then while working. Every day - complete harmony, pure unadulterated happiness - for four years. Call me naïve, but after a while I thought it would never end. I thought the bond between us was unbreakable.

‘But we had a problem, which in my eyes was not a problem at all for a couple who were so close. Money… You see, we had periods of time when we had to count every penny. Even buying basics like food would be problematic. He didn’t like it. I didn’t like it either, and who would? But I didn’t feel it as acutely as he did. All his attempts to get a permanent job came to nothing. He hated freelancing. He would often talk about how much he wanted to settle. To that I would reply that we had settled. He would laugh. We didn’t even have a place of our own. We had to rent. He also mentioned marriage.

‘I have difficulties with marriage, I’d say of a conceptual nature. I don’t understand how an intimate affection between two people can be made into a public institution? How can you measure a relationship with signatures and property rights? Of course you can’t, and marriage has never been about affection. It’s an obsolete, oppressive institution created solely as means of control, and in my view it should be abolished. But instead of setting straight people free, society has moved in the opposite direction - marrying homosexuals! I find it mindboggling. Well, he didn’t agree with me.’

‘This is a very unusual point of view, I must say,’ I snorted. ‘But I appreciate where you’re coming from. I too have never thought of marriage as part of my life and not because I want to be alone. I believe that formalities do not belong in close relationships. I just don’t feel as strongly about it as you do.’

‘As it turned out I don’t either. Luke wanted to marry one day. Just because everybody did it and he felt left out. He had that potent need in him to conform. He needed to be part of the crowd, part of the clan, otherwise he felt inadequate.’

My visitor heaved a sigh and for a moment I worried that he would begin to crumble. He looked away and continued:

‘I never tried to restrict Luke’s freedom, but all those years we didn’t really need anybody except each other. I think we didn’t sleep around simply because it would encroach on our time together. It wasn’t a question of us consciously choosing monogamy. That made  my position even more difficult, when I realised that Luke had started seeing other men. I didn’t like it, of course. Perhaps, I was jealous at some level, but in the end I didn’t know whether I should worry or not. I didn’t know if it was capable of separating us when we were so close. However, I started seeing less and less of Luke, and that was real torture. I was restless. I couldn’t stay home. I spent my days driving on the motorway, because I needed to drive fast. I found consolation in speed. I still hoped that it was just an aberration and everything would go back to normal.

‘Once Luke came back home at six in the morning, sat on our bed and told me that he was leaving me. My worst nightmare had materialised. I experienced the worst case of detachment in my life. I literally felt that I was looking at myself from outside my body for days, witnessing my life from a distance and not believing what I saw. You know, I begged him, yes I did. I asked him what I had done wrong, what we could do differently. I proposed to him. In the end, it made no difference at all to me. I had a permanent editing job at that stage, albeit part-time. I had been doing a lot of ad-hoc editing and was offered this position by an internet lifestyle magazine.  I told him that it could become full-time, if I wanted. Anything at all went… But I could see I was barking up the wrong tree. And then he told me…

‘He wasn’t just leaving me. He was leaving me for someone else. This someone else was a lawyer. A really settled, loaded lawyer with a six-figure salary and a fancy apartment. And they were already engaged.

‘Then I booked my journey here… God…’

‘Would you like some coffee?’

‘Yeah, why not?’

The water had boiled and already cooled down. I had to turn the kettle on again. I waited for it to boil again and poured it in the coffee pot straight away to brew. My two cups were always on the table, thankfully washed and ready to be used.

‘This is all my fault,’ my guest continued. ‘I was too self-absorbed. My principles, my lifestyle were more important to me than the man I loved. I thought I loved him above all, yet not enough to change and adapt. I could have got a proper job. I could have married him. We would still be together. But I didn’t listen. I didn’t think it was important. I thought that the unique bond we shared was stronger than all conveniences and conventions. I was too slow to react.’

I poured coffee into the cups and passed one over to my guest. I then sat down and took a sip. He did too.

‘It’s very nice coffee,’ he said.

‘My father used to make beautiful coffee. The smell stays in my mind. I’ll always associate it with home. He would mix different kinds of beans. It’s his coffee-maker, but I’m not as good.’

‘And your father?..

‘He’s dead.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘No, don’t be. I’ve learned to say it. Listen, I don’t believe you’re right to blame yourself for this break-up. Your boyfriend has deserted you for money. It’s as simple as that. It may sound harsh, but this is what it is. You didn’t have a job, but neither did he. Why should it be your fault? Marriage? But it truly is no more than a signature in a register. It could be more important for women, because they have the fear of being abandoned with babies, but in your situation? His longing for a settled life? He could have worked on it together with you, if he wanted to settle. He just chose an easy option. He chose a wealthy man. I’m sorry, but it’s just a classic case of gold-digging. Nothing to do with lifestyle and principles. As cruel as it sounds, he just didn’t love you enough. Not as much as money. And I cannot fucking believe that you were hanging there, off that bridge, because of a little piece of shit like him. You! Just look at yourself. You’re every bit as handsome as a god. They should cast you in marble. You’re talented and smart and have your whole life ahead of you. And not even two hours ago you had tightened that noose about your throat thinking of motherfucker Luke of all people? There’s something wrong with this world.’

‘Oh, thank you for the compliments,’ he looked at me sideways, smiling wryly. ‘You’re quite handsome yourself.’

I looked at him and rolled my eyes.

‘Sod off, that’s not the point I was trying to make.’

‘I know what the point is. If you must know, when I booked the ticket for Venice, I didn’t intend to kill myself. On the contrary, I was hoping to unwind and to muster my thoughts. I hoped my favourite city would help me to heal. But I’m afraid it’s that same city that has almost killed me.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I booked a hotel. It was supposed to be situated in Calle de la Malvasia. When I came to Venice, I used Google maps to find it. I followed directions, but when I found this street, my hotel wasn’t anywhere to be seen. I called the hotel and they gave me directions which I couldn’t follow, because I didn’t know the places they were talking about. I was physically and emotionally drained. I started looking everywhere around the locality, in case it didn’t quite overlook Calle de la Malvasia but was on a side-street. Then I realised I couldn’t find even Calle de la Malvasia any longer. So, I used Google maps again. And it took me through the streets I hadn’t seen until now. And I was lost once again. It was getting dark and I felt trapped. I bet if I was in my normal state, I wouldn’t have reacted the way I did. But because I was at the end of my tether, I felt like I had no choice and it was the only right thing to do. I thought that my life wasn’t really worth all this struggle. I wanted to end it.’

‘I know exactly what happened to you there. You found yourself in a psychological deadlock and there was no one by your side to turn you around. It happened to me too once. I used to live on one of the islands in the Venetian lagoon. My father had a farm there. I grew up on that farm and stayed on as a farmhand to help my father out. I never knew my mother because she had died when I was small. My father brought me up. He nursed me from a very early age and I had no one closer to me. I have an elder brother, but he is so much older that I can barely remember him living with us. He was never part of my life. When my father died, I was devastated. I could never imagine such a day before, no matter how hard I tried. That had always been the ultimate nightmare for me. And when it happened, I couldn’t find the strength in me to adapt to my new life without him. My father was old enough to be my grandfather, and this is what makes it so difficult for many to understand - surely I should have been ready for something like this. But I wasn’t. I was a mess. I would barely leave my house and mostly out of necessity. The simplest possible tasks would corner me. Exactly like you describe. I would honestly do my best to do what I had to do and it just wouldn’t work. Your conundrum was actually a difficult one, but I would often crumble from simple things, like going into town and buying what I needed to buy to stock up the fridge. I would forget where I’d left the trolley, leave my shopping in the supermarket, my wallet on the counter and so on and so forth. Would often come back home without shopping and go to bed on an empty stomach. Of course, I couldn’t run a farm in this state. I ran into debt very quickly. I lost my house and most of the land. What I have there now is just a hut in a patch of field.’

‘I’m very sorry to hear that,’ he faltered and his eyes lit up again with the same glow I had seen in them by the bridge. It made me sit up and stretch my hand towards him. I stopped halfway.

‘Oh, I’m quite alright now. I came here when I realised I could not survive over there. I started a new life and… I can’t say I’ve completely healed, but I’m certainly on the way. And I will help you. Look… Sorry, what’s your name? You’ve only mentioned your lover’s name so far.’

He laughed out heartily.

‘I’m Ralf. And you?’

‘Francesco. So, Ralf. The reason why you lost your bearings in Venice is not because you were so emotionally compromised, but because Venice is such a confusing place. A mental health nurse would suffer a nervous breakdown here. You should never come here without a guide, and from now on you have one.’

Ralf beamed.

‘Ralf, there are not one, not two, but three streets in Venice called Calle de la Malvasia. Welcome to Venice!’

‘Wow!’

‘What must have happened is that you went to one of the wrong ones. Your hotel wasn’t there. Then you tried to find the same street again, but Google maps took you to yet another street of the same name. One of the streets adjacent to this hotel is also called Calle de la Malvasia. I bet that’s the reason why I found you where I found you.’

‘It was a stroke of luck.’

‘Really? So, now you appreciate what I’ve done for you?’

He laughed.

‘I’m getting there.’

‘Okay, I think we should steal a couple of hours’ sleep.’

‘Oh, I’m so sorry. You have to work tomorrow and I…’

‘No worries. It was certainly well worth it.’

I went to my soft wardrobe in the corner next to the bed. It was made of canvas and was swelling from the amount of stuff I had to store there. I pulled out a set of bedlinen.

‘Do you mind rising for a moment?’

‘Oh, sure…’ he said, getting off the bed.

I took off the blanket and tugged at the bed sheet.

‘Why are you taking off the bedlinen?

‘I want to put a clean set on for you.’

‘And where are you going to sleep?’

‘I’ll get a mattress from our storage downstairs and throw it down here. Well, as you can see we only have one last strip of floor left. Not too many options,’ I chuckled.

‘Absolutely no way!’ Ralf exclaimed. ‘After you brought me back to life and did two hours of counselling at the expense of your sleep, you’re now going to give up your bed to sleep on the floor? It’s not going to happen. I’ll either sleep on the floor, or I’ll just go.’

‘I’m too tired to argue. You know, I don’t think I can be bothered to go downstairs to get a mattress. What do you think about sleeping together in my bed? It’s a bit of a squeeze, but we only have two hours to enjoy it. Then I’ll go to work and you can spend the rest of the night in comfort.’

‘Oh, thank you. It’s awfully kind of you. I can’t say no to that.’

I drew the bed sheet back on and threw the blanket over it. I slipped into my tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt and I offered the same to Ralf. It didn’t feel awkward. Nothing did anymore, frankly. We were both drained and barely conscious. I slipped under the blanket and invited him in. In a moment he was in my arms. I didn’t feel squashed. On the contrary, I was very comfortable. Once again I was happy to hold this human being, to keep him from harm’s way. Our bodies seemed to be a match. We were like two cog-wheels in perfect alignment. I couldn’t believe I had only known this man for a few hours.

‘It’s embarrassing how I inconvenienced you today,’ he mumbled. ‘It’s just not me. I’ve never caused so much trouble to anybody in my life, not even my mother when she was giving birth to me.’

I burst out laughing without opening my eyes.

‘I gave you a new life today,’ I said. ‘Please, use it wisely, that’s all I’m asking.’

‘I already am.’

No, I couldn’t laugh anymore. I locked my arms around him and in another moment I was asleep.

 

 

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