Murder Most Fab by Julian Clary

change.’
    ‘Is it
your family?’
    ‘It’s
… it’s everything. It’s just all too huge for the two of us to fight,
that’s all. And I don’t even know if I want to fight it.’
    ‘Perhaps
if you told your parents, explained what we mean to each other …‘
    Tim
laughed. ‘Yes, I’m sure that’s all we need to do. I can just see Daddy being
moved to tears by my plight. Oh, Johnny … you don’t understand even the half
of it.’ He was quiet for a while, then said quietly, ‘I wish I could spare you,
but it’s too late now to stop it. I just hope you’ll forgive me. I wish it
didn’t have to be me who made you miserable.’
    ‘Wouldn’t
you be miserable, too, if we couldn’t see each other any more?’
    ‘Yes —
but I’m much tougher than you are, Johnny. You’re so vulnerable. You feel
everything ten times more than anyone I’ve ever met.’
    ‘So
let’s not part.’
    Tim
groaned.
    ‘Don’t
dwell on the future. It’s so far away,’ I said. ‘Kiss me. That’ll make
everything all right.’
    ‘For
the moment.’
    ‘That’s
all I care about. Glorious, wonderful now.’
    ‘Celia
Johnson, eat your heart out.’
    The
following Saturday Tim’s lovemaking at dusk was particularly vigorous, and we
had barely caught our breath before he began again. There was an angry energy
to his lust, as if he was trying to break and batter rather than pleasure me.
When, finally, he finished for the second time, he got up immediately and
pulled on his clothes. ‘This is going to stop now,’ he said, wiping his forehead
with his crumpled T-shirt, then shaking it and putting it on inside out.
    ‘What
do you mean?’
    ‘That
was the last time for us, Johnny. I’m sorry, but it can’t go on. On Monday I’m
leaving for Cambridge. I’m starting university. It’s a new beginning and it’s
the right time for us to say goodbye and get on with our real lives.’
    My
heart contracted with horror. ‘Isn’t this real, then?’ I whispered. I couldn’t
begin to imagine life without him. For the last two months, Tim had been the
centre of my universe, my whole reason for being. The idea of his leaving me
was like the sun being put out — everything afterwards would be cold and dark
and terrible.
    ‘No,
it’s not real,’ Tim said. There was a callous note in his voice that I’d never
heard before, a roughness that made him sound like a stranger. He wasn’t
looking at me.
    ‘How
can you say that?’
    ‘Grow
up, Johnny! Did you really think we could go on like this for ever? You’re a
fool if you did.’ Then he added quietly, ‘It’s been fun, though.’
    I was
still naked, lying on the floor. ‘But I love you. Don’t leave me. I know you
love me too — I know it! What about all the times you’ve kissed me? What about
the things you said the other night, about growing old together? Can’t I come
to Cambridge with you?’
    Tim
stood up and stared down at me. His blue eyes were hard. ‘Don’t be silly. I
don’t love you. This whole thing’s been a bit of fun, that’s all. I liked
fucking you, but it’s only what boys do before they grow up and get married.’
    ‘I
don’t think it is, Tim …’
    ‘Everyone
does it.
    ‘No
they don’t! Not like us, anyway! They don’t love each other like we do.’
    ‘Don’t
be so stupid. Shut up about love, for fuck’s sake. It’s like listening to a
girl. It’s over. I’m not like you, anyway. I’m not queer.’ He uttered
the last word with a contemptuous sneer.
    ‘Don’t
be like this, Tim,’ I begged. ‘I know what you’re doing but you don’t have to
be like this, please …’
    But he
turned on his heel and walked out, slamming the flimsy door behind him. Peeling
petals of old paint fluttered to the floor.
    I lay
there still panting, stunned into silence. Then, far too late for him to hear
me, I said, ‘Remember me,’ and I began to cry.
    It had
been such an abrupt termination that the shock left me staggering aimlessly
like a