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Chapter Twenty Four

Frank

Frank hadn’t gotten much work done on Honeysuckle Lodge that morning, but that didn’t matter.

He and Marcus had sat at the kitchen table chatting.

“I can’t believe you’d go out of your way to rescue Huey, even after the way I’d treated you,” the fox said.

“To be fair I dumped you outside Mrs Bartle’s cottage which was a bad move, and I’m sure she was watching from the window,” Frank reasoned.

“Whatever happened to her?”

“Died five years ago,” Frank explained. “So don’t worry about bumping into her in the street.”

“Oh,” Marcus sighed. “Well, I probably deserved being dumped that way.”

Frank couldn’t help but feel surprised.

“I never thought I’d hear you say anything like that, let me guess, you’ve developed a conscious?”

“I always had one, I just never listened to it,” Marcus said softly. Frank was surprised at how self-aware the fox was becoming. “If I had, I wouldn’t have upset Ralph so much and been a bad boyfriend. Do you think he’ll come back to me if I change?”

“That’s up to Ralph,” Frank replied. Something told him that the Ralph was no doubt put off my Marcus’ attitude, but from what he had heard from the kitchen, he also wondered if Ralph still had strong feelings for Gunnar which had complicated matters in the Doberman’s mind. “Besides,” Frank continued. “You’ll learn for next time if he doesn’t.”

“Hmm,” Marcus grumbled. “It seems Gareth the husky hasn’t shown up. Part of me wants him to, as he played a part in chasing Ralph away.”

“May I be honest?” Frank asked.

“I suppose you’re going to say it anyway,” Marcus sighed.

“Yup, you might not like this, but you and Gareth aren’t all that different. He reminds me of you.”

“I think you said something similar yesterday,” Marcus huffed.

“I did, and you say you internalised how Conor treated you? Well, it seems you turned into what you hated. Focus on becoming what you love again if you want to change.”

“What, learn to love myself?”

“In essence, yes.”

“Do you think I hate myself?” Marcus asked with an expression of curiosity.

“I’m playing psychologist here, but I think you’ve lived a life of what feels like loneliness and rejection. You craved other people to be good to you, and in turn you forgot how to be good to yourself,” Frank said carefully.

There was a minute of silence as Marcus deemed to digest his words.

“I guess you’re right,” he eventually said. “I used to think Conor was the best person ever for me, and then I starting having doubts.”

“When he cheated on you?”

“Well, before then. He insisted on getting stoned every time we went out somewhere nice, and we when on a date to an art gallery and he threw up all over a painting.”

“Charming.”

“And then the cheating began, well we tolerated it if it was close friends of ours, and then he decided to expand without telling me. We used to play this game where we asked each other daring questions and I asked him if he’d ever shag a random, good looking guy if he met them in a bar. He said depends on if they were my type. I thought he was joking at first, but apparently he wasn’t, and when I caught him actually doing this, he’d give excuses like you’re not exciting enough, you don’t make me feel valued, you’re always too uptight or controlling,” Marcus said as he put his muzzle in his paws.

“And those are just like things you said to me when we were together,” Frank sighed. “Boring, too soft and not assertive or dommy enough, and then too controlling depending on your mood.”

He couldn’t deny that what Conor had said to Marcus sounded horribly familiar.

“Ugh, is it karma?” Marcus sighed. “Am I getting my comeuppance?”

“No, I’d see it as a wake-up call,” Frank tried to reason.

“Thing is, it makes me want to get rid of these,” Marcus said, gesturing at his shorts and piercings before ruffling a paw through his green fur. “Maybe the way I dress or look attracts all this?”

The thought of Marcus changing his look made Frank feel depressed inside.

“No,” he said firmly. “I was saying to a friend recently that your look is something I love about you. Keep it. You’ve never cared what anyone thought, that’s often a good trait to have in the right circumstances. If you didn’t have your cute little shorts, your piercings, oh and your tops with bananas on,” Frank added with a chuckle. “You wouldn’t be you. I loved you for who you were, not who you pretended to be. It’s not the way you dress that attracts bad things, it’s your attitude inside that does.”

“That’s all very true, and honestly if you told me to change my clothes I wouldn’t have anyway,” Marcus nodded with something close to a cheeky smile on his muzzle. “I forgot how zen-like you can be sometimes.”

“I try,” Frank chuckled.

“You should have written fortune cookies for a living.”

“That is what men in white coats would call humour as a defence mechanism,” Frank said with a wry smile.

“Okay mister psychologist, you must have some flaws or bad traits?” Marcus asked with something between a laugh and a sigh. “You pick your nose? No, you never did that. You’ve taken up smoking? Oh wait, I remember you used to fart in bed all the time!”

“That’s disgusting,” Frank said, rolling his eyes.

“Nothing then?”

“I do,” Frank sighed. “I still regret rushing you into coming out to your parents when we were seventeen. I was so eager to stop hiding in the shadows that I peer pressured you, and then I wasn’t understanding or empathetic when my experience went better than yours. I probably didn’t help and that added to the feeling of rejection.”

There was another minute of silence.

“You’re probably right,” Marcus eventually said.

Frank rested his muzzle in his paws as he thought back to when they had made a pact to come out to their parents. It had been during a walk by the sea before they had taken a bus back to the village.

“Are you sure this is a good idea Frank?” Marcus whispered as they sat right at the back.

“Yes, they’ll find out somehow anyway.”

“Can’t we keep on pretending we’re best friends?” Marcus asked.

“Best friends who hug all the time, or have more sleepovers than anyone else? Eventually someone will figure it out,” Frank replied. “We need to be honest. Honesty is good. If they find out by accident they’ll be more cross about it. You like being assertive, as you say.”

“That’s probably true,” the fox sighed. “Should we tell them about us?”

“That can wait.”

Marcus had rushed home to his parents’ and Frank had walked back to his mum’s house – a small thatched cottage with a view of the sea and the place he had been born in.

His mother and his step-father had been preparing dinner as he walked through the door.

“Ah Francis, you’re back just in time!”

“Hi mum,” Frank said as he sat down at the kitchen table.

“Arthur, tea is ready!”

“Coming Anne,” his grey wolf step-father said as he sat down at the table and unfolded a newspaper.

“Arthur, why not read it later when we do the crossword?” Anne chuckled. “You’ll get the paper covered in spaghetti sauce!”

“I’ll be careful, don’t worry,” Arthur chuckled. “If I do, we’ll have something to lick off later as a snack.”

“I prefer my dinner on a plate,” his mum laughed.

Frank had never been sure of his mum’s new partner at first. Arthur had moved in not long after his own dad had died, and at first Frank had resented this new man living in his family home and the place of his birth. But whether he resented Arthur or not, he knew he had to do this.

“Um, mum, I have something to say?” he sighed.

“What’s wrong, you look ill?” his mum replied, her tone suddenly becoming serious. “You haven’t gotten into trouble at school have you?”

“No, school is fine, it’s, well, I was thinking I had to be honest to you. I’m gay, but it’s not a big deal, right?”

“Oh Francis,” his mum said, standing up to hug him. “I had sometimes wondered if you might be. You’re certainly sure you are?”

“I am.”

“Okay, and it’s not a big deal at all. Isn’t it Arthur?”

“Not at all,” Arthur said, nonchalantly glancing up from his newspaper to sip his tea.

“Thank you mum, thank you Arthur,” Frank replied with a sigh of relief.

“No need to thank us, now eat your dinner! It’ll get cold.”

“I’m surprised our parents didn’t simply guess we were a couple after we came out,” Marcus chuckled as Frank was brought back to the present.

“I sometimes think my mum did, but she never said though,” Frank shrugged as he cast his mind back to the following day when they had discussed their experiences coming out while sitting on the village green near the church.

“So, how did it go?”

“Pretty shit,” Marcus replied. “Mum sprayed wine over dad, and at home they were more interested in cleaning it off. She wasn’t angry but she wasn’t happy. I feel depressed to be honest.”

“Oh well, we got it over with now, and we can relax.”

Frank cringed as he thought back to his response to Marcus.

“Yeah, you didn’t seem bothered,” Marcus huffed.

“Not my finest moment, I assumed that if it went okay for me everyone must share my optimism,” Frank agreed. “But ironically my second flaw was that after I broke it off with you I was too burned to really think about loving again. I brooded too much and wallowed in being scarred.”

“Wait, you haven’t had a boyfriend since me?”

“Oh I have, just any deep or meaningful relationships that lasted long,” Frank admitted.

Marcus didn’t reply, but instead the fox reached across the table and put his a paws on Frank’s.

“You should find someone,” Marcus said firmly.

Frank felt too shocked at the fox’s gesture to respond with words.

“Wow, you really are changing a lot,” he eventually murmured. “No snarky jokes, just kindness.”

“I can be snarky if you’d prefer,” Marcus grinned. “For example, you should find a handsome mate who gets hard when you talk about kitchen surfaces.”

“I spoke too soon,” Frank laughed.

Marcus laughed too, but in a way that came across as if he was laughing with Frank rather than mocking, before his ears drooped and his paws retreated.

“I wish Ralph would come back already,” the fox sighed. “I shouldn’t be laughing right after he’s walked out. I feel shit for doing that.”

“Give him time to heal, and in the meantime show him you care by looking after his stuff,” Frank instructed. “And no, laughter is good.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

“Positive, anyway, speaking of work if I am to do any today I need to run back to my cottage to grab some coveralls. I was going to spray an undercoat on the window boxes before the painter finishes them off, and that stuff is a pain in the arse to get out of your fur if you’re not covered.”

“Okay, ya know it’s warm outside and I want to brood in style. I’ll sunbathe!” Marcus announced.

“Heh, you do you,” Frank replied as he got to his hind-paws. “Oh, and Marcus?”

“Yes?”

“Like I say, if Gareth shows up, let me handle it.”

“Fine,” Marcus sighed, although Frank wasn’t convinced.

“If the young husky does show up text or call me,” he said firmly. “Or if he does anything ultra-crazy, which I doubt, then call the police. Try not to go vigilante on his butt, tempting as it is.”

Marcus responded with an eye-roll and a nod.

Frank stood and made for the living room to gather his clothes while Marcus hurried up the stairs.

“I wish Ralph was here to sunbathe with me!” the fox called.

“You’ll have me treating the window boxes instead,” Frank replied.

He stood still and waited for a sassy comeback.

“Well, that’s better than nothing,” Marcus shouted from the bedroom.

“Heh, thanks,” Frank replied as he made for the door.

The midday heat was setting in and Frank hurried to the truck.

Grab my coveralls, water bottle and something to take back here for lunch.

He ran the mental list over in his mind as he climbed in and started up the engine.

The drive back to his house didn’t take too long, but as he pulled up on his driveway, Frank noticed a small van parked close to the entrance to the Mansfield house. It was white with HD-C written on the side in red letters.

The name seemed familiar to Frank, but before he could get a better look the van pulled away as he climbed out of his truck.

Frank frowned as he let himself into his cottage.

Where have I heard that name before?

His spare sets of coveralls were in the garage and he decided he’d retrieve them on the way out.

Rather than grab his water bottle, Frank made for his work desk. He sat down at his PC, opened up Google and searched for HD-C.

As he suspected, he had heard the name from browsing construction companies when doing his design course.

The first result was the company website. Frank idly browsed it for a minute and found they specialised in constructing residential units and houses.

Creating dream homes. Connecting communities read the website’s tagline.

Frank clicked away and scrolled further down the search results. One link near the bottom led to an article dated from two years ago with the headline Planning Application Controversy Engulfs Village.

He cocked his head as he clicked on the link.

Building firm HD-C has been accused by local residents of ignoring planning application rules to build a new housing estate on the edge of Morlington.

Frank knew Morlington was a larger village that was a half-hour drive from Little Hartbrook. There had been some controversy over plans to build three thousand more homes around it. The homes would have been built on land that had also been the proposed site of a nature reserve.

Are they doing the same to the Mansfield site?

“Sure not?” Frank muttered out loud.

He searched HD-C Mansfield but nothing conclusive came up.

He stood and made his way back to the kitchen to retrieve his water bottle. As he filled it up, Frank glanced out idly out of the window.

His ear picked up the low purr of an engine approaching and Frank saw Anthony’s Bentley cruise ominously past.

Even through the kitchen window and the car’s tinted glass Frank was sure he could see the puma looking at him. Anthony’s gaze almost seemed to cut through both sets of glass and hit Frank like a dagger.

The Bentley continued on by, but Frank felt a little unnerved as he went back to filling his water bottle.

He reasoned that if Anthony was driving by slowly like that to intimidate him it was juvenile and he didn’t want to be intimidated out of his own home, but still, the prospect of spending the afternoon at Honeysuckle Lodge with Marcus felt reassuring.

Feeling reassured to be around Marcus? Now that’s something I never thought I’d experience.

Frank couldn’t help but shake his head at the thought as he went to gather his coveralls.