Future Queens of England (52 page)

Tony stood up and walked to the door, just as he was leaving, he spoke, “You’ve got a call to make to Louise too.”

Tony walked back up to his dormitory and wandered casually back over to his bed.

“What happened?” Hugh asked.

“I’m leaving,” he replied stoically.

“Leaving for where?”

“I’m leaving for good.”

“What?” they all gasped.

Gareth walked over to Tony and put his hand on his shoulder, “Are you serious?”

Tony nodded as he threw his clothes into his old sports bag.

“But you can’t leave,” Bruce said.

“Really?” Tony said curtly, cramming the last few items into his bag.  “There’re coming for me tomorrow at noon.  This will be my last night here.  I’m going down to the changing rooms to collect my hockey kit, now that I won’t be on the team any longer.”  He walked towards the door and silently left the room.

The news of Tony’s departure had spread like wildfire; everyone was discussing whether he’d be going to prison now and their shock at who the man behind the Phantom was.

Tony peered at his watch, almost noon.  He looked up at his room-mates, “So, guys, this is it.”  He stood up, “Are you coming to see me off?”

They all nodded.

“Here, give me your bag,” Gareth said.  “Let me carry that for you.”

“And I’ll carry your hockey stick,” Uwe said.

Tony handed them over, “You might as well keep the hockey kit.  I guess I don’t really have use for it anymore, now that I am not on the team.”

Uwe shook his head, “No.  You must keep that.  It’s yours and yours alone.”

Tony turned and made his way out of the room, his friends followed silently behind him.

He descended the grand stair case for the last time, closely followed by his disciples.  He ran his hands over the wooden banister and enjoyed the smooth feeling of it under his palm for the last time.  Looking up at the pictures on the walls in the foyer, he sighed. 

When he got to the bottom of the stairs, he stopped and paused for a moment.  Tony walked over to the newly erected trophy cabinet and smiled as he saw his own face reflected in the recently acquired hockey league trophy. 

Finally, he made his way to the main door.  As he approached, he turned and looked back, it was eerily quiet. 

“This can’t be,” Hugh said to the others.  He ran over to the doorway and grabbed Tony.  “I’ll come with you,” Hugh said.

“Thanks, but, you should stay here,” Tony said trying not to betray any emotion.  He took his belongings from them.  “I’ll take it from here.”

“But, what about us?  What about our friendship?  What about ...” Hugh said, before Uwe grabbed his arm and held him back.

“A man can be himself only so long as he is alone,” Uwe said solemnly.

Tony nodded at them sadly before stepping outside.  He squinted at the brightness of the midday sun.  As his eyes adjusted from the darkness of the building, he saw hundreds of his fellow students stood there silently waiting.  He nodded at them in acknowledgment and they all silently bowed their heads in response. 

At the main gates, a police car began its approach up the long, gravel drive way.  Tony walked down the steps and waited quietly, as it pulled up and the policeman got out. 

“Don’t go without a fight, Tony!” someone shouted from the crowd.

“Yeah!” many voices chorused.

Tony just smiled and shook his head.  He handed his belongings over without a word and the policeman opened the door for him to get in, but before doing so, Tony took one last look back up at the building that had been his home for all these months.  “
Ad augusta per angusta
,” he whispered reading the inscription above the door before sliding himself into the back seat of the car.

The door was slammed shut, his bags and hockey stick were thrown into the boot and the engine started.  The gravel crunched underneath the tyres as the car turned and began to drive back out.  As the car moved off, the students occupied its space and waved goodbye.

Tony looked over his shoulder and gave them one last wink before the car took him away from them forever.

Chapter Twenty
S
ix

Tony bent down and tied the laces of his running shoes tightly.  He looked at the electronic tag on his left ankle and shook his head.  He couldn’t believe he had to wear this ridiculous thing, but supposed it was a
much
better option that going to prison.  He should be grateful for all the overcrowded prisons, he thought, since it had given him some form of freedom.  He slid his finger under the tag and toyed with the idea of ripping it off, but there was no way it was coming off without using wire cutters, and what would be the point of removing it?  Instead, he cursed at it, and began to stretch his legs out.  He’d decided to go for a run to burn off some testosterone.  He was horny as hell, but what could he do?  He couldn’t really go out on the pull wearing this.  Nothing killed passion quicker than the moment a woman laid eyes on his electronic tag.  Tony imagined the panic on their face as he undressed and they spied his ankle.  What would they think they’d come home with?  Also, all he could think about was Louise, no one else would do. 

He hadn’t seen or spoken to her since he’d been kicked out of the school.  She’d tried to get in touch, but his pride couldn’t bear her seeing him like this.  This frithing tag is so degrading, he thought, feeling like a caged lion.  No, don’t let it get to me, the tag will be off soon and I’ll be able see her again after that, on my terms. 

He finished his stretches and opened the door of his flat, the warm night air felt satisfying.  He breathed in deeply and concentrated on the faint smell of flowers, or pollen, or whatever it was.  He loved running in the evenings, the pavements were quiet and his alone.  Tony took a few long strides forward and loosened his legs.  He glanced into the windows of other people’s living rooms, the flicker of their TVs attracting his attention.  Then Tony cricked his neck and began his nightly run, he looked at his watch and noted it was dead on nine o’clock.

In the centre of town, two figures emerged from the Pink Moon gay club.

“I don’t understand the problem, is it me?” the first man said, his voice quivering.

The other man sighed, “Look, I just need some time to think about things.  Can you give me a bit of space?”

“No, I can’t.  I need to know this relationship is going somewhere,” he placed his hands on the other man’s face.  “I love you.”  He waited for a response, but the other man hesitated.  “Did you hear me, I said that I love you.”

“I know what you said, I heard you.”

“Well?”  he folded his arms and tapped his foot impatiently.

“Look, I’m just not sure, that’s all.”

“You’re not sure?” he shouted, his voice cracking.  “How can you not be sure?  You either are or you aren’t.”

“How many times do I need to say this?  I just need some time.”

“You mean you want to sleep around with some other men to see if you can do better than me, don’t you?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” his shoulders sagged.  “You know, I’m too tired for this.  Let’s talk about this another time, I’m going home.”  He went to kiss him on the cheek, but his boyfriend turned away.  “Alright, suit yourself.”  He turned and quickly walked away.

“Yeah, that’s it, walk away,” his lover shouted at him.

             
On the other side of the street a group of young men watched on with interest.

“Take a look at that old queen,” the largest of the men stated.  “Dirty fucking benders, I hate ‘em.”

“Me too, Rob.  Bleeding arse bandits.  Look at them carrying on together,” another of the gang piped up.  “What’re we gonna do about it then?”  He looked up at Rob and waited for an order.

“Let’s go and speak to him and see if we can offer him some advice.”  He stepped into the street and the rest of his gang followed him.

The spurned lover began to weep into the sleeve of his shirt.  He leant against a lamppost and sniffled.

“Hey, lover boy, what’s up?” Rob growled, approaching the man.

Startled, the man looked over his shoulder.  “Oh, nothing for you chaps to worry about,” he said nervously.

Rob walked right up to him and towered over him, “Now, now, you can talk to me.  Was it a lover’s tiff?”

The man gulped and began to back away, “I’m alright.  This doesn’t concern you.”  He spun around and walked quickly away from the group.

“Oi, come back here.  I’m still talking to you,” Rob called after him.

The man’s heart began to beat furiously.  He craned his head and looked over his shoulder.

“Get him!” Rob ordered.

The whole gang then charged after him.

The little man started to run too, but he was past his prime and overweight.  The pack of wolves behind him got closer and closer, jeering at him and throwing out insults.  He ran as fast as he could, but quickly found himself out of breath.  The gang closed in on him, but decided to prolong the agony and allowed him a few more metres before they finally pounced.

Rob gripped him by the collar and pulled him back, “Where do you think you’re going, you little fat fudge packer?”

The man began to hyper ventilate, much to the delight of his captors, “I’m ... I’m ... I’m ... ”

Rob laughed, “You’re what?  A faggot, a little willy woofter, a downright dirty little bender?  Is that what you are?  Well, tonight I’m gonna beat that out of you.”  He watched the colour drain from his victim’s face and relished every moment.  Rob raised his fist slowly, the man’s eyes followed it until the fist stopped moving, then he closed his eyes.  Seconds later the fist can thundering back and smashed the man across the side of his face.  He crumpled to the pavement and lay at their feet.

“Get up!” Rob ordered.  “Get up now or I’ll make this twice as bad for you.”

The man raised himself up onto all fours subserviently, before getting to his feet.

“Good boy,” Rob grinned, obviously enjoying every moment.  “Now, take a look around you, who do you want to punch you in the face next?  It’s your choice.”

The man turned three hundred and sixty degrees, slowly looking at  each of the grinning faces.

“Come on, come on, hurry up and choose.  We don’t have all night,” Rob snarled.

The man raised his hand and with a shaky finger pointed at one the smallest of his attackers, “Him.”

Rob coughed, “Manners!”

“Him please,” the man whimpered.

He smiled, “There you go, good manners cost nothing.  Go on then Jim, give the man what he wants, since he asked so nicely.”

Jim laughed, “My pleasure,” and with that, he cracked the man on the chin with a powerful upper cut.  The victim’s head was flung back and he collapsed to the ground again.

The group cheered and gave him a kick, “Come on, get up.  We’re not finished with you yet.”

Tony turned the corner and ran toward the Pink Moon, as he approached he looked up at it from across the street and wondered if his friends were in there.  He carried on down the road and noticed a group of blokes encircling someone; he slowed his pace.

“It’s my turn, Rob,” one of the gang shouted, “let me have my go.”

Tony’s ears pricked up at the name, he stopped and slid into a shop doorway trying to conceal himself in the darkness.

“You heard the man, you little fucking fairy, now get to your feet and take your medicine.”

With a reluctant wobble the man got to his feet once again, “Please, no more,” he begged.

They group cackled.  “But we’ve only just begun,” Rob said, reaching out and slapping the man’s face firmly.  “Go on Al, give him a taste.”

Without any more prompting, Al head butted the man across the bridge of his nose.