Chapter Seventeen

RAINBOW Voices—a radio station targeted at LGBTQ listeners across the Greater London area—had invited Marcus to join a nighttime chat show a week before Christmas with the ever popular Dr. Billie Rix. Tina had pushed him to do at least three or four of the major commercial stations in London to promote his newly published cookbook. Even though he grumbled because they were live shows and usually meant early mornings or late evenings, he actually enjoyed the anonymity of radio. Rainbow Voices felt like coming home.

On Marcus and Tina’s arrival in the cramped studio, sitting outside the fishbowl watching Dr. Rix’s animated performance, one of the producers briefed them on the list of questions Marcus might be asked. Phone-ins were a little harder to regulate, but the woman assured Marcus that any calls would be vetted before callers were allowed airtime. Marcus had complete confidence. Being a gay radio station, they probably had their fair share of hate calls. Tina, as always, had prepared well ahead with the station and had already modified some of the content and questions to ensure Marcus had the opportunity to publicize the book and his new ventures.

While music played between sections and then the on-the-hour news was broadcast, Marcus met Dr. Billie Rix—a beautiful black woman in her early thirties. Marcus took a shine to her straightaway. Down-to-earth and authentic, Tina had called her, and she had been spot-on. After going through a few of the protocols with him quickly and efficiently, she got straight down to business on-air.

“You’re listening to Rainbow Voices, 92.8 FM, and this is Evening Download with Dr. Billie Rix. With me in the studio tonight I have the founder and head chef of the Old Country restaurants, Marcus Vine. Marcus received recognition from Stonewall in last year’s honors as one of the top twenty most influential gay businesspeople in the UK. His new book, Britain’s Got Taste, celebrates British cuisine across the centuries. Marcus, tell us the inspiration behind this publication.”

“Simple really, Doctor—err—Rix. British cooking has had a bad rap for far too long, in my humble opinion. And most of that is unjustified. Ask anyone what they consider to be classic British dishes and the list won’t be long. Fish and chips, Irish stew, Welsh rarebit, and haggis. Where’s the mention of crempog, rumbledethumps, cruibini, or good old-fashioned battalia pie, not to mention a whole encyclopedia of local seafood dishes? We are an island nation of fishermen, after all. So I decided to bring these classic dishes, and many more, up-to-date and compiled the recipes in my book. But, of course, if you’d rather not go to all the trouble of recreating them yourself, they’re available in any of my restaurants.”

Marcus had used the opening lots of times before, one that usually grabbed the attention of listeners. Somebody was bound to ask him about one of the more obscure dishes he had mentioned.

“And if listeners still prefer more popular British dishes?”

“We have variations on those. One of our most popular appetizers is the mini Yorkshire pudding filled with a sliver of sirloin and homemade horseradish. We’ve simply made them less about bulk and more about taste.”

“Some critics accuse you of bending the rules, saying your influences are not restricted to the British Isles. That ingredients used in your recipes are not strictly indigenous.”

Aha, thought Marcus. So Dr. BR was not going to give him an easy ride. Fortunately Marcus had heard this kind of objection voiced—usually by competing chefs—many times before.

“Fair enough. But don’t forget that Britain has been a pioneering nation since the sixteenth century. Vegetables, fruit, herbs, and spices from all over the world that could either be cultivated here or easily imported became readily available. The potato, for example, originally came over from South America, probably Peru, either brought back by the Spanish or Sir Walter Raleigh—depending on who you believe—and became a mainstay for much of the population. Same goes for the tomato, which is thought to have come to the UK from Spain in the late 1600s. During the age of the Commonwealth, incredible ranges of produce, herbs, and spices came to our shores. Does that make English recipes less authentic? I don’t believe so. If anything, it makes them all the more adventurous.”

“Okay, we’re going to open the switchboard now, so if you have anything at all you’d like to talk about—problems, questions, opinions—with either Marcus or me, we’d be happy to take them. Wouldn’t we, Marcus?”

“Whatever you say, Doc.”

Dr. Billie Rix laughed then. She had a nice laugh, friendly and open, which probably explained the popularity of her show. “We have Jason on the line. Who’s your question for, Jason?”

“For Marcus. Hey there, Marcus.”

“Hi, Jason. How can I help?”

“My boyfriend and I have been studying family and consumer sciences for the past two years. We’re planning to go into the restaurant trade once we graduate. And you’ve been a huge inspiration. But my question is a simple one. Neither of us have ever heard of rumbledethumps? What on earth are they?”

Marcus smiled. If only he had a pound for every time somebody asked him the same question. “If you had Scottish relatives, you’d know already. Many countries have their own version, but rumbledethumps is basically a traditional Scottish dish made from potatoes, cabbage, and onion, which is mixed together in a baking dish, seasoned, sprinkled with either cheese or breadcrumbs—depending on whether you’re vegetarian stroke vegan—and then baked. I suppose the closest English relative would be bubble and squeak, leftover vegetables from a roast dinner.”

“Wow. That simple?”

“Absolutely. But delicious. In my restaurants we offer mini portions as a side dish, or larger ones for sharing. Parents approve because it’s popular with the youngsters, even though it contains cabbage.”

After allowing a few more calls, Dr. Billie Rix took the reins and started to talk more generally about Marcus. “Marcus,” continued Dr. Rix, “congratulations on your award from Stonewall this year. During your modest rise to fame, you’ve been an inspiration to many young gay people. What’s your own coming-out story?”

“Hang on a moment. I can feel another book coming on.”

Dr. Rix laughed at the comment, while in the waiting area, Tina nodded enthusiastically and held a thumb in the air.

“I was very lucky. My parents work in theater and television, so they’re both liberal and broad-minded and supported me fully when I came out. At school I was never what you’d call macho, but I was taller than most, so perhaps that’s why I never got bothered by the big boys. Or maybe it’s because my closest friend was the best-looking girl in school and they all thought we were dating. Funny looking back on it now, but I only came out to everyone when I was at university, at the age of twenty. I think I’d known I was gay since the age of twelve. My best friend, Lorraine, certainly did.”

“And what piece of advice would you give to any listeners who are struggling with their own sexual identity?”

“Not even my close friends know this, but I used to be terrified of heights. I went out of my way to avoid standing near the edge of anyplace with a big drop because to do so would make me a trembling wreck. Until the age of twenty-two, that is. I joined some college friends on one of those outward-bound camps in North Yorkshire that entailed hiking, canoeing, and other active and supposedly fun stuff. And then one day the instructor split us into four groups and told us that we had team tasks to complete. One of the activities involved each member of our team scaling a cliff face to pick off an envelope with our name on. Unless all members of the team collected their own envelope, however, we would spend the night outside in a flimsy tent, in sleeping bags, on rough terrain, and in whatever conditions the weather brought. Each envelope contained a card with ‘gifts’ written on them on how comfortably we would spend the night. Things such as cooked food, warm clothes, access to washrooms with hot showers, even alcoholic drinks. But only if every team member picked an envelope would we get to eat in the mess kitchen and sleep in comfortable bunk beds in a cozy dorm.

“Staring up at the cliff face at the darkening sky full of rainclouds, I repeatedly told myself, ‘There’s no way I can do this.’ And then, one by one, my teammates climbed up the cliff and collected envelopes, some just as terrified as me, but all harnessed safely by professionals. The last one remaining, I remember standing there, getting more and more angry with myself, still scared but with the fury getting louder than the fear, at letting my teammates down. So I climbed. And I climbed. And I reached for my envelope just as the heavens opened. And still I climbed until I reached the top of that cliff face and was pulled over the crest by a climbing supervisor, a big bear of a man who wrapped me in a huge hug. Talk about incentive. And when I turned around and looked out through the rain, the view was incredible, and I wondered what the hell I’d been afraid of all this time. For me, that’s what coming out was like. Letting my anger overcome my fear and finally seeing things clearly.”

“Sign me up for that book. Now I’m sure you’ve heard a lot of people say that it gets easier. What advice do you have for our listeners?”

“It does. But keep in mind that self-acceptance is only the first step. After that, you need to start living your life. Being true to yourself, being honest about who you are. Standing tall and beating down any self-talk that tells you that you’re diminished in any way just because you’re different from many of those around you. Diversity is a gift in our society. One person being different from the next makes us stronger, not weaker. We become more interesting and certainly more tolerant of each other. And that can only make for a better society.”

“Well said, Marcus. Donald Kitter from the Observer called you the best-looking and most eligible gay bachelor in London. Is that still the case?”

“Thanks for that, Dr. BR,” said Marcus, his voice softening. “I was seeing someone. Someone very special, actually. But for various reasons, that didn’t work out. So I’m keeping my options open. And to be honest, right now I don’t get a lot of time for anything but work.”

“So what’s next, Marcus?”

“Next? My manager and I will probably head back to the restaurant for last knockings. It’s not far from here and—” He faltered to a stop when he saw Tina through the thick glass window, rolling her eyes. “Or do you mean my plans for the future?”

“I think listeners are more interested in what the future holds.”

“Oh, yes, sorry. Well, I’ve got my hands full right now with the new restaurant opening in Birmingham at the end of January, but we’re always looking for new opportunities.”

“No thoughts about doing a television show?”

Marcus could see Tina nodding her head and grinning broadly. She’d set him up. They would have to have words when he was done. “Not sure people want to see my ugly mug on their tellies.”

“Oh, Marcus. I don’t think there’s a single listener on right now who would agree with you on that score. What do you think, Tim?” she said, addressing her sound engineer. “Would you like to watch Marcus live in action on your television?”

Tim, a bald bear of a man, grinned at Marcus and nodded eagerly.

As soon as they went to commercial, Marcus stood up, put his hands on his hips and glared at Tina, who shrugged and tried to look innocent. Fortunately they were approaching the end of the program and he just had to wait for Dr. Billie Rix’s trademark sign-off.

“A big Rainbow Voices thank-you to Marcus Vine for being here tonight.”

“Thank you for having me.”

“Marcus’s cookbook, Britain’s Got Taste, is now available from any high street bookstore or online for the princely sum of £9.99. So if you’re anything like me and you’ve left your Christmas-present shopping until the last minute, this would make a wonderful gift for a loved one. If you want to meet him in person, go along to his book signing in Booklands on Kensington High Street on Boxing Day. And if you happen to find yourself in New York in the near future and long for a taste of home, Marcus’s restaurant is now open and getting rave reviews. Details of all his ventures are online at www.marcusvinedining.com. Okay, let’s play another topical tune requested by one of our listeners, and definitely one of my favorites. This is ‘Ice Cream’ by Sarah McLachlan.”

Even after Marcus’s session has ended, he continued to sit quietly, checking messages on his phone while listening to other callers. Only when he saw Tina stand and hold out her hands, imploring him to come out, did he begin to pack his things. Tina had been uncharacteristically moody of late, and the last thing he wanted to do was irritate her any more. One of the reasons he wanted to head back to the restaurant that night was to have a chat about getting her some help, an assistant, because he felt he had been overstretching her.

Marcus stood up then, seeing that Dr. Rix was almost finished.

“—just enough time for one last call. Who’s on the line?”

“Is it okay if I ask a personal question, Dr. Billie Rix?”

In the process of locking up his briefcase, Marcus froze, his throat becoming dry. He would have recognized that voice anywhere. Tom Bradford. Phoning into a chat show. Would wonders never cease?

“Of course. Who’s on the line?”

“It’s—uh—Thomas.”

“Okay, Thomas. Go ahead.”

Marcus had received three calls from Tom since their altercation. But each time, he had let them go to voicemail. On the last, Tom had left a simple “Can you please call me back?” Marcus hadn’t. And fortunately, Marcus had never found himself alone in a room with Tom. Just as well, because he didn’t know if his heart could take another beating. But hearing Tom’s voice now, sounding so alone and vulnerable, Marcus found himself missing him, felt tears welling in his eyes.

“Almost two years ago my wife died in a car accident, leaving me with two young daughters to raise.”

“Oh, my goodness, Thomas. That’s terrible. I’m so sorry to hear.”

“Yes, it was a tough time for the family. To begin with, I fell apart and very nearly lost everything. Except that my wife’s best friend, a gay man and a dear friend to the family, stepped in to save me, to save us, and basically helped me to rebuild our world. And then something strange happened. I started to develop feelings for this man. Nothing prompted this; the man never showed any interest in me in that way. He had honorable intentions throughout, a friend helping a friend. But I managed to win him over. And eventually our relationship went from one of mutual respect to one of mutual attraction. The relationship also became very physical.”

While Tom had been talking, Dr. Billie Rix, noticing Marcus’s emotional reaction, had muted her microphone. “You know this man, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Except that I still thought of myself as straight,” continued Tom.

“He’s talking about you, isn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“Dr. Rix, do you think it’s possible for a straight man to fall in love with a gay man?” asked Tom.

“This is the someone special you—”

“Yes.”

After beckoning Marcus back to the interviewer seat, Dr. Billie Rix flicked the microphone back on. “I’d like to think so, Thomas. But let’s hear what you think.”

“From what I’ve read, most people think it only happens one way. Gay people falling in love with straight ones.”

“And let me tell you on behalf of countless Rainbow Voices listeners, both male and female, we know that particular combination happens all too often. Usually with disastrous results.”

In that moment, Marcus realized how much he’d missed hearing Tom’s laughter.

“Why do you ask, Thomas?”

“Because earlier in your program, your guest, Marcus Vine, mentioned acceptance. He said it was the first step in coming out, and although I don’t yet entirely identify myself as anything other than straight—I haven’t been that brave—and while I agree with him, I believe there’s something more fundamental. That the whole point of coming out for a lot of people is because eventually they want to be able to have a relationship, maybe even be lucky enough to build a life, with another person. Everyone, gay or straight, wants to love and be loved. It’s a basic human need. But we are never going to respect a potential partner if we’re not brave enough to respect ourselves, to understand that what we’re gaining is so much more than what we lose. And I know this because that’s where I fell short.

“I am not a complicated man. I could easily remain the way I am, unexceptional but conventional, continue to live my life through work and through my daughters as a widower. Because I know now that there will never be another woman to replace my wife. And I also know that many men and women in my shoes manage to continue living on alone and single when their spouse passes on. But for me that would be worse than shutting myself in a closet. Because I’ve been given a rare gift, sent a second soul mate who unconditionally loved me and my family, who has already supported us through the good times and especially the bad. Someone I let down because I wasn’t brave enough to tell him I loved him, and someone I eventually pushed away. So my question is this: Do you think a man who lacked courage and respect, but who has learned his lesson and would never do the same again, who promises to stand proud next to the person—to the man—he loves with all his heart, could be worth a second chance?”

“Marcus is still with us, Thomas,” came the voice of Dr. Billie Rix. “Marcus, do you think someone like Thomas could be worth a second chance?”

Marcus peered through the glass paneling to where Tina sat, a handkerchief balled up over her mouth, her eyes pooling with tears. Of course he had told her all about Tom. When she caught his eye, she nodded vigorously, sending tears spilling down her cheek.

“I do,” choked Marcus. “Yes, Tom. I do.”