the difference. And it was that difference which made his loyalty be to Steve. Steve would need it around here. He was now on the outside too and they must stick together for support. Silent support, like six men quietly leaving behind an assailant’s corpse in a toilet block. The thought was ever with him. Sue sat there and did nothing. Absolutely nothing. He felt the pressure to look up. After a while she said: “If Steve phones, I don’t want to speak to him.”
“Alright,” he said and kept on working. She turned her swollen eyes on him and watched him in silence. Her heart was broken, her plans dashed, and Gerry just worked on. For that moment she hated the middle- aged queer. Her eyes fixing him, she said, “Don’t you even want to know?”
“No,” he said and kept working. She gazed around struggling for words. She couldn’t comprehend it. Gerry worked quietly. He knew her anguish; he just didn’t share it. No one had shared his. She must come through alone as he had. It was the law of survival that others had created for both of them. It wasn’t of his doing.
“I don’t, I don’t … believe this. You don’t even want to know.”
“I do know,” he said quietly and put down his pen. “I don’t want to know but I do. I can’t share your feelings, don’t ask me to.” He put his head down again and continued to work. She sat in a catatonic silence and he fought to isolate her from his own emotional state. One of them must work. He would carry her in that but in that alone. After a while he heard her thrust her desk drawer open. He heard it bang shut and a magazine being thrown into the waste-paper bin. It thudded heavily against the tin. He didn’t look up. He heard her chair squeak back and the rustle as she stood up to stalk off. He looked up only to see her retreating figure. Steve had obviously told her that the wedding was off. If only she could have grasped the totality of the situation. They were now both saved from the charade of a marriage that could have satisfied neither. In time she would still have her home, husband and mortgage. The sacrifice had been from Steve. He could have had a life of furtive, casual sexual encounters, with her sitting at home waiting for him to return each night. His security could have been her uncertainty and doubt. Instead he had opted to be the outsider. She would get all the support she needed to recover from the broken engagement. No one would want to understand Steve’s case. So Gerry was not going to be one more voice to comfort her in support of her heterosexual aspirations. The girl had never had to question a single value before in her life. If lucky, she would be cushioned by friends through this experience and come out as unaware on the other side. How lucky she was. Born to be shielded by her own naivety. What would be Steve’s buffer against the world? What had been Gerry’s? Life in minority was hard enough, he was not going to waste his support on his unconscious oppressors. It was the values of the Sues of this society that keep him alien. What did it matter to him if there was one more broken engagement? He could never have one to break. And Steve. He couldn’t win now. Not until society changed. He had leapt out of the frying pan, yes — but into a fire in which he did not yet possess the skills to survive. Steve would now have to learn fast. Gerry worked on. Half his brain worked on automatic, processing the chits before him. It was nine-thirty and Sue still wasn’t back at her desk. If Wilson came through he would be furious. Gerry reached over and pulled her pile of work towards him. He could get most of it processed quickly enough. He was a bit surprised to see quite how far back it went. She certainly had had her head in the clouds the day before. Skimming through it, it looked dangerously as if they would go over on the bookings again. There was nothing else for it but to get through it as quickly as possible. Ten o’clock
“Alright,” he said and kept on working. She turned her swollen eyes on him and watched him in silence. Her heart was broken, her plans dashed, and Gerry just worked on. For that moment she hated the middle- aged queer. Her eyes fixing him, she said, “Don’t you even want to know?”
“No,” he said and kept working. She gazed around struggling for words. She couldn’t comprehend it. Gerry worked quietly. He knew her anguish; he just didn’t share it. No one had shared his. She must come through alone as he had. It was the law of survival that others had created for both of them. It wasn’t of his doing.
“I don’t, I don’t … believe this. You don’t even want to know.”
“I do know,” he said quietly and put down his pen. “I don’t want to know but I do. I can’t share your feelings, don’t ask me to.” He put his head down again and continued to work. She sat in a catatonic silence and he fought to isolate her from his own emotional state. One of them must work. He would carry her in that but in that alone. After a while he heard her thrust her desk drawer open. He heard it bang shut and a magazine being thrown into the waste-paper bin. It thudded heavily against the tin. He didn’t look up. He heard her chair squeak back and the rustle as she stood up to stalk off. He looked up only to see her retreating figure. Steve had obviously told her that the wedding was off. If only she could have grasped the totality of the situation. They were now both saved from the charade of a marriage that could have satisfied neither. In time she would still have her home, husband and mortgage. The sacrifice had been from Steve. He could have had a life of furtive, casual sexual encounters, with her sitting at home waiting for him to return each night. His security could have been her uncertainty and doubt. Instead he had opted to be the outsider. She would get all the support she needed to recover from the broken engagement. No one would want to understand Steve’s case. So Gerry was not going to be one more voice to comfort her in support of her heterosexual aspirations. The girl had never had to question a single value before in her life. If lucky, she would be cushioned by friends through this experience and come out as unaware on the other side. How lucky she was. Born to be shielded by her own naivety. What would be Steve’s buffer against the world? What had been Gerry’s? Life in minority was hard enough, he was not going to waste his support on his unconscious oppressors. It was the values of the Sues of this society that keep him alien. What did it matter to him if there was one more broken engagement? He could never have one to break. And Steve. He couldn’t win now. Not until society changed. He had leapt out of the frying pan, yes — but into a fire in which he did not yet possess the skills to survive. Steve would now have to learn fast. Gerry worked on. Half his brain worked on automatic, processing the chits before him. It was nine-thirty and Sue still wasn’t back at her desk. If Wilson came through he would be furious. Gerry reached over and pulled her pile of work towards him. He could get most of it processed quickly enough. He was a bit surprised to see quite how far back it went. She certainly had had her head in the clouds the day before. Skimming through it, it looked dangerously as if they would go over on the bookings again. There was nothing else for it but to get through it as quickly as possible. Ten o’clock
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