David's Final Graduate Year Ch. 02

She was now some three months gone, and she had been offered a research studentship that would enable her to work for three years in the University of Bologna. She had managed it seems to get the commencement date of the studentship deferred by a year, during which time she would have the baby, feed him or her for six months, and then turn him/her over for adoption. My mother said "Is it too early or could you and Jon adopt the baby?" It sounded like the opportunity of a lifetime, not only would the baby be a blood relative, but its birth surname would be Scarborough! Moreover my parents would be able to enjoy their first grandchild. I told my mother excitedly that I would talk to Jon, and get back to her as soon as possible.

Jon was just as excited as I was at the possibility of us becoming joint fathers soon, but pointed out the complications. In 15 months time, I would have my doctorate and be looking for a job. Jon would either have had his post-doc job extended, or he also would be looking for a job. Even with part-time help, one of us would have to be at home most of the time to look after the baby. Money of course would not be a problem, but starting a family at that particular time would have far-reaching effects on both our career prospects. But it was indeed an opportunity that we could not let go. "I'll ring Tim Ingledown and try and find out what we need to do," he said, "the whole area of fostering/adoption/guardianship is a closed book to me."

It turned out that it was also a closed book to Tim, but as usual he knew someone who could help us. She was a partner in the law firm that Tim also belonged to, but she was a specialist in Family Law. Her provisional advice was that in the first instance, after the baby was born, application should be made to a court for guardianship of the child either by myself as next-of-kin or preferably, if it could be managed, by Jon and myself jointly, rather than adoption (at least in the first instance). We relayed this information to my mother and settled down to wait. There was a lot to do in the meantime.

I was feeling totally exhausted from the pressures of competitions, thesis-writing and the apprehension of the possible legal as well as career and household worries surrounding our future parenthood. I asked Marcello if he would let me withdraw from the Zwolldijk Competition, but he refused, he said that entry was the only way for me to get recognized in the rest of the European Union outside Britain. One afternoon, I felt that it was all getting too much for me to cope with, so I rang Edward and arranged to meet him for some counselling. I told him that I needed two weeks break, away from Camford, away from my parents and away from singing. It would be impossible for David to come, he was too busy, and in any case I needed to be completely alone, just to blank out from all responsibilities for a couple of weeks. Edward came up with two sensible suggestions, and a few international phone calls and some Eurostar bookings were made, and all was arranged.

Chapter 60 Jon

A big shock

One Wednesday early in August I came home from the lab and found the flat empty. I wondered if David had gone to his lab, but when I went into the kitchen, I found the following note on the table:

Darling Jon

I'm sorry to give you a shock, but I have gone away for a few days. The stress of finishing off my lab work, writing the thesis, competitions and the perpetual round of singing has left me feeling totally exhausted and I need to blank out for a couple of weeks doing totally different things to recharge my batteries. I also need to ease off on the drink: I vastly exceed the healthy alcohol intake level for my age.

Please will you ring Marcello and Charlie and tell them that I will be back in mid-August to resume normal activities? Please do not tell my parents that I have gone away unless they ask. I am not going to Amersfoort or to Loxton. Please do not try to find out where I am, I will be back on or about the 15th of August. The only person who knows my whereabouts is Edward, and he is under the seal of the confessional and will not reveal my location except in the case of a dire emergency with you or with my family.

Please rest assured that I will not do anything harmful to myself (or to anyone else). I will not telephone you, but I will be living chastely, except for the occasional wank thinking of you, so do not fear that I have run away with anyone. I still love you and YOU ONLY. I will miss you, but think how nice it will be in bed when I get back.

Work hard, keep cheerful, go for a drink with Edward, ask the Fabionis to give you dinner sometime and don't go chasing after boys! If you have time on your hands, visit a few drystone-walling projects, your visits are overdue. Remember that I am yours for ever and love you with all my heart.

Your loving faggot-boy,

David. XXXXX

I did not know what to do. A sense of panic hit me. Had I done something to upset him? Why had I not noticed the stress that he was under? Where had he gone and whom was he with? What was he doing? That at least I could guess. He would be in a retreat house somewhere saying his prayers. What should I do? Whom should I contact about him? Above all, was he coming back? The thought that I might have lost him was unbearable. I looked in his wardrobe. Some clothes were gone, and his passport, but not his cellphone. He must have gone abroad.

I reached for the phone and rang Edward, who luckily was in. "I was expecting you to ring!" he said. "Don't panic! He's coming back when he said he will. He's gone abroad, but not far away, and he will be fine when he gets back. Come and have dinner with me tonight. We'll have a few drinks in college, and then I'll treat you to a meal at the Venezia" (the Italian restaurant where we had recently taken the Fabionis). "OK," I said, "that would be nice. In the meantime I need to talk to his supervisor and his singing teacher to let them know that he's away."

I rang Marcello and told him that David felt exhausted and had gone away for a few days to pick himself up, but that he would be back for his lesson on the 18th. I apologized that David would miss a couple of lessons, but Marcello said that he quite understood, that he had noticed that David was showing signs of stress. Charlie Crabtree when I contacted him said more or less the same, and I was filled with guilt and self-reproach that I had not noticed how stressed my boy had been feeling. Usually any depression that he was feeling could rapidly be dispersed by some kisses and a good fuck, but even I had noticed that sex did not seem quite so good to him as it usually did. I wondered too if he had been thinking negatively about prospective parenthood, and whether there would be problems with the guardianship order that we hoped to obtain. He was somewhat inclined to worry unnecessarily about the future, and I had not bothered to tell him that if we had problems with a family adoption, my money would easily secure us an adoptive baby from somewhere in the third world.

The evening with Edward was good. We got through quite a lot of Marsala before getting on our bikes and riding rather shakily through the quiet August streets of Camford to the restaurant. Over the meal he suggested that I follow David's advice and take a few days off to visit the drystone-walling sites. After coffee back in his rooms, we parted with an embrace that only just fell short of kissing...

The next day I rang Michael T, the man in charge of the Drystone Wall Trust repair team, and apologized for the lack of recent contact and saying that I would be at the latest repair site on the moors above one of the more industrial Yorkshire Dales on the Friday, and indicated that I would stay the weekend and we arranged to do a survey trip to locate further sites needing attention. We found several such sites, and I authorized Michael to enter into negotiations with landowners with a view to improving the walls that abutted on to public highways and footpaths.

Returning to Camford, I threw myself into computer work, and made quite a lot of progress. I also inspected the progress on the Men's Fitness Centre. The "topping out" ceremony was due to take place in December, and the internal work would be completed by June of the following year, with a view to opening at the beginning of August.

On the 14th of August I went shopping to stock up with fresh supplies of condoms, lube, shower gel. But I also bought flowers, Belgian beer, Prosecco, Marsala, coffee and a couple of silk shirts in David's size. On the 15th I worked at home on my computer, hoping all day to hear the bell, but nothing happened, and after eating takeaway fish and chips, I went to bed early, but failed to sleep properly. Although it was mid-August, the bed felt cold. Although David had been vague about his date of arrival, I could not help feeling anxious that something might have happened to him. For only the second time since David came to live with me, I felt totally miserable.

I crept out of bed about 8 am, put on T-shirt and underpants without shaving and helped myself to some müesli for breakfast. I poured myself a cup of coffee, sat down at the table and farted noisily. I wished that David had been there to comment on my rude noise, which he would have done with great glee. After breakfast, I got out a bowl and arranged the white roses in it and settled down in a chair in the living room for my second day of waiting.

[To be continued]