Bailey hugged his coat closer as he trudged up the driveway. He held the thick fabric closed with one hand, while the other held an umbrella aloft as a barrier between him and the relentless drizzle. The weather had started to warm up and they’d had one or two mild days but now the rain and chill were back with a vengeance. He was focused on skirting around the puddles that dotted the cracked driveway, but almost stopped in surprise at the call of his name. He was tempted to ignore it, pretend he hadn’t heard over the constant patter of the rain, but that would only delay the inevitable. He stopped mid-stride, plastered on a smile, and looked up. The smile quickly faded at the sight of Mr Green’s grandson, Adrian, standing beside the old man on the front verandah.
“Bailey. I need to talk you to. Come over here.”
He regretted stopping, particularly now that he knew Adrian was there, but had no choice. Resolutely he crossed the muddy yard until he reached the steps. Mr Green made no effort to motion him up the stairs to the verandah, so he stood at the bottom on what was once grass but was currently boggy as a swamp. He held the umbrella over his head, watching the two men through the falling rain.
He nodded a greeting to Adrian, then addressed his landlord. “How are you, Mr Green? Everything okay?”
“What do you expect? It’s cold. I’ve got arthritis. It’s pissing down cats and dogs.”
“Oh.” Bailey bit back his automatic response and considered how to respond. The old man always greeted him with a litany of complaints, and he’d learned long ago that his expressions of sympathy and offers of help would at best go unheeded. At worst, his response would just stir up the hornets’ nest and Mr Green would prattle on for hours about the states of the economy, the health care system, and how young ones today did not have a work ethic. If Bailey ever had to hear another one of Mr Green’s stories about what it was like “back in my day” it would be too soon.
“Anyway, I wanted to tell you I’m giving you notice.”
“What?” Bailey swallowed hard. He couldn’t mean what Bailey thought he meant. “Notice about what?”
Mr Green glared. “I’m giving you notice that you have to move out. I need the flat.”
“But I’ve always paid my rent—”
“It’s got nothing to do with that.” The old man glanced at his grandson. “Adrian needs the room.”
Adrian stepped forward, arms folded and narrowed eyes, almost as if he expected Bailey to go at his grandfather or something. As if I’d threaten an old man.
“Oh, he can’t live with you? In the house, I mean.”
Mr Green looked at Adrian again but before he could speak, Adrian leaned forward. “No, I can’t. And who my granddad lets live in his place has nothing to do with you.”
“I know that. It’s just that I’ve been a good tenant….”
Adrian was obviously not up for a discussion on the matter. He stood with his arms folded across his chest and a scowl on his face. Mr Green stood mute at his side, obviously happy to let his grandson lead the conversation. Bailey tried anyway, ignoring Adrian’s piercing glare and hoping to appeal to his landlord’s good side. Surely he has one?
“Please, Mr Green. I’ve always made my payments and you’ve said how much you’ve relied on the money.” And made a song and dance about the rent being so much as a day late. Not to mention getting cash so as not to impact your pension payments. But Bailey held his tongue. “I take out the bins every week and I’ve always helped you with jobs when you’ve asked. Can’t we work something out? Maybe Adrian can stay in the house, look after you—”
“I don’t need looking after,” Mr Green spat.
Too late, Bailey realised he’d put his foot in it. “I just meant—”
“For God’s sake,” Adrian interrupted. “Stop grovelling. You’ve got two weeks.”
Bailey’s heart plummeted and for the first time he regretted not having an official lease. A handshake agreement for reduced rent had left him totally exposed. Two weeks. That was no time at all. Bailey gripped the handle of the umbrella tighter as his chest tightened. Where will I go? How will I even afford to move?
“I… I’ve p-paid up until the end of the month,” he stuttered as thoughts flew through his mind. That was another two weeks past the date Adrian was proposing, and there was no way Bailey was leaving a moment before he had to. How will I even find somewhere to move that fast? Something that I can afford. How will I even get a lease without a fucking job?
“Gramps?” Adrian looked to his grandfather.
The old man gave a brusque nod. “Okay, the thirtieth then. You’ll need to have all your stuff gone, and don’t even think of leaving the place in a mess.”
“Yeah, if there’s any damage it’ll be coming out of your bond, and that includes cleaning too,” Adrian added.
Bailey nodded hopelessly. There was nothing left to say. The old man had never been the understanding type and wasn’t likely to change his mind. Bailey watched the two men turn and head into the main house. He eventually got moving, trudging through the soggy yard, now heedless of the puddles. A little rain seemed such a small thing to worry about.
By the time he’d let himself in to his apartment, his shoes were saturated and wetness had soaked the bottom of his jeans. He pulled off his shoes and peeled off the damp socks, leaving them by the front door. He tossed his coat on top of them. He removed the rest of his clothes, leaving jeans, hoodie, and T-shirt on the floor where they fell. He didn’t have the energy to pick them up. The floorboards were cold and he shivered, goose bumps rising on his chilled skin.
The hot shower did little to relieve the tension in Bailey’s shoulders. The pain crept up his neck and he felt a headache coming on. He hung his head under the stream of water, focusing on the rush of water, trying to allow it to drown out his swirling thoughts.
Why did this have to happen? Just when things were starting to go so well and life was definitely looking up. Why now?
Bailey slid down the wall until his arse hit the floor. The tiles were freezing against his back. He wrapped his arms around his knees and dropped his head. What the fuck have I done to deserve this?
He couldn’t stop the tears from falling and gave in to the emotions.
* * *
The last thing Bailey felt like doing was attending a celebration, but Tom had seemed so disappointed when Bailey had initially turned down the invitation. Bailey wanted to spend a quiet night with Tom, to put his cards on the table and tell him about the eviction. Oh God, the eviction. Even now the very thought made him sick to the stomach. He needed Tom’s advice or at least a sympathetic ear, not to deal with a large group of people. But he had heard the disappointment in Tom’s voice when they’d talked earlier in the week, and so was now at a party picking up empties. He pasted on a fake smile and nodded at a few people as he moved around the room. He knew Tom’s close friends but had no idea who most of these people were. Friends of Phil’s, given it was his apartment?
“You don’t have to do that, you know.” Bailey looked up from the recycling bin to find Phil leaning on the counter. “I’ll clean it all up in the morning.”
“Yeah, I know. Just wanted something to do.”
Phil inclined his head towards the crowded living room. “Not into parties?”
“Sometimes. Just not in the mood to make small talk with strangers tonight. Sorry.” Bailey shrugged and hoped Phil didn’t mind his honesty.
“Nah. No need to be sorry, mate.” Phil grasped his shoulder and gave an understanding squeeze. “I get where you’re coming from. It must be hard when you don’t know many people and they’ve all known each other for years. Want a beer?” Phil didn’t wait for Bailey’s answer. He turned to the tub and dug around, fishing a couple of amber bottles from the ice.
“Thanks.” Bailey took the bottle and uncapped it, downing half in a couple of swallows. “Congrats again on the new contract, by the way. It’s awesome.”
“It is. Thanks.” Phil smiled. “It’s been a lot of hard work, but it finally paid off, thank Christ.”
“Definitely worthy of a celebration.”
“Ha ha. So true. But now the hard work really begins.”
They left the sanctuary of the laundry and made their way through the kitchen and back into the living room. Bailey was tempted to stop and get started on the cleaning up, or maybe help with the food, but Phil’s presence behind him kept him walking. He didn’t want to look as though he was totally antisocial. Bailey leaned on a wall, intent on people watching for a bit, surprised when Phil leaned up next to him instead of mingling with his guests.
“Look at him go, will you?” Phil used his bottle to indicate Elliot, who was dancing, one of the few people doing so. “Always the life of the party. But I don’t think we’ll see much of that at the next party.”
Bailey raised a brow. “Huh?”
“Not much dancing. The next party is Tom’s painting party. I don’t know what you said or did but I’m glad it worked. We’ve been hassling him to let us pitch in for ages. Seems he just needed you to give him a prod.”
“Yeah?” God, he had to stop with the one-word questions, but he wasn’t sure exactly what he’d done. Tom hadn’t said anything to him. “So a painting party?”
“Yeah, you know. Everyone picks up a brush and chips in with the painting. The host provides beer and pizza.”
“Hey, is Phil telling you about the party? I figured if the guys want to help so much then who am I to take away their joy?” Tom chuckled. “You too, Bailey. You up for it? I know you’re a whiz with the hammer and chisel, do you think you could handle a paintbrush?”
“You’re really getting stuck into the renos?”
“Uh-huh.” Tom threw an arm over his shoulder. “This awesomely smart guy suggested I give myself a break and just go with the flow.”
Bailey looked into Tom’s smiling face, his eyes crinkled with pleasure as he met Bailey’s gaze. Warmth radiated through his body and he couldn’t contain his grin. He could hardly believe that Tom was finally accepting the help he’d so long turned down. Does that mean he’s forgiven himself? God, there was so much he wanted to ask and say—how proud he was, how happy it made him to think of Tom coming to terms with his past. But here wasn’t the place for a deep and meaningful. Later. Later they could have a discussion and Bailey could get everything off his chest. It would be good to get the negative crap behind them and focus on a positive future. He smiled back at Tom. “Wow. He sounds like a goddammed genius, that guy. I’m glad you listened to him.”
Tom’s arm tightened around his shoulders. “Me too.”
“Speaking of listening. I’ve got something I want to talk to you about.”
“On that note, I’ll leave you guys to it,” Phil said. “I should play host and get some more food circulating anyway, otherwise this lot will be regretting the huge hangovers tomorrow.” He pushed himself off the wall and left the two of them alone.
“So what did you want to talk about?” Tom asked.
Me losing my job. Me getting evicted. My dead-end future because I can’t figure out exactly what I want to do with my career or how to go about it. He cleared his throat. “Maybe tomorrow, after the cafe closes? We can have dinner and talk about it then.”
“It sounds serious.” Tom’s eyes darkened as he turned to Bailey, both hands on his shoulders as he peered into Bailey’s eyes. “Is everything all right? Are you sure you want to wait till tomorrow? If something’s wrong we can always leave the party now.”
Bailey shook his head. “It’s just the continuing saga of my life. Nothing that can’t wait till tomorrow.”
“You sure?”
“Yep.” And he was sure. Just knowing he had Tom to talk to later was enough to relieve some of the immediate worry. This time the smile was genuine. “Let’s make the most of the party tonight. How about another beer so we can toast your upcoming renovations?”
Before they could make a move, their attention was drawn to Elliot by the sudden drop in volume of the music.
“Okay, okay.” Elliot tapped a knife on the side of his wine glass. “Listen up, folks, I’ve got something to say.”
The chatter died down and all eyes focused on Elliot. He looked like he loved the spotlight—the immaculately tailored shirt, designer jeans, and shining blond halo of hair, but more importantly, the air of confidence, the beaming grin. Oh, to not have a worry in the world and just put yourself out there.
“Anyway, now that I have your attention, I thought it important that we congratulate our host on his biggest achievement so far.” Elliot raised his glass in Phil’s direction. “Well done, mate. We’re all so proud of you.”
Phil gave a bow as everyone called their congratulations. The conversation levels rose until Elliot chimed his glass again.
“Not so fast, everyone. I’ve also got an announcement to make.”
“Oh here we go,” John hissed in a mock whisper. “Another promotion.”
“I heard that! But actually, that’s not correct. Not this time anyway.” Elliot winked and everyone laughed. “I know that amazes most of you, but this has nothing to do with work. This has to do with yours truly finally joining the grown-ups. This afternoon I put down a deposit on a house.”
“Holy shit, man. That’s serious stuff. Congrats.” Tom was the first to step forward and offer his congratulations, leaving Bailey’s side to wrap Elliot in a huge hug. He slapped him on the back. “So happy for you. Well done.”
They stepped back and Elliot smiled. “Couldn’t let myself get outdone by all you guys, with your big contracts and your own businesses, could I?”
“I think you do okay.” Tom chuckled. “And this isn’t a competition, you know.”
Tom leaned in and whispered something against Elliot’s ear, too low for Bailey to hear. Elliot’s face clouded over, but he nodded. The two men stepped back, Tom’s hands on Elliot’s shoulders much as they’d been on Bailey’s earlier. They nodded at each other, just a brief dip of heads before moving in for another quick hug. By the time they’d parted, Elliot’s smile was back.
Someone turned the music back up and the party returned to full swing. As he leaned on the wall watching the action—laughing, talking, drinking, dancing—the dark feelings returned. He definitely didn’t provide any competition to Elliot. I only serve to make everyone else look so much better.
“Hey.” Tom returned to his side, a couple of beers in hand. He passed one over.
“Thanks.”
“Great news about Elliot’s house, isn’t it?” Tom said with a quick glance over at Elliot.
“Sure. It’s a big step to take.”
Tom nodded. “For Elliot, it’s one of the biggest.”
“Huh?”
“There’s a story there.” Tom chugged on his beer. “I’m sure you’ll find out one day, but for now let’s just say that this house represents more than just a roof over Elliot’s head.”
That didn’t make much sense to Bailey, but he just shrugged. It didn’t change the fact that Elliot had actually bought a house, and Bailey couldn’t afford to rent much more than a shitty one-bedroom apartment from which he was getting tossed out of.
“Hey, you okay?” Tom must have noticed his glum expression.
Fuck, I’m doing a lot of that lately. I need to get out of my own head.
He forced on that smile again. “I’ll be better after this drink and a dance.”
He threw back the rest of the drink, grabbed Tom’s hand, and dragged him to the makeshift dance floor. Okay, so it was only a crowded corner of the lounge room but it served its purpose. Pushed up against Tom, his hard body pressed against Bailey’s, with the beer buzz warming his bloodstream, all thoughts drifted away. He let his feelings for Tom take over, nuzzled into his neck, and together they moved as one to the music.