Page 14 of Rhymes with Metaphor

A couple of days later , Martin took Juliet to his uncle’s cottage in Northumberland.

Much to Martin’s frustration, Juliet insisted on bringing Joel with them.

Reg couldn’t help feeling smug at the put-upon expression on Martin’s face as they backed out of the driveway in a rented car, Joel in the back, head leaning against the window.

“Bye!” said Reg, waving. “Have a nice time.”

The car pulled out of sight around the bend in the road. Reg rubbed his hands together. Alone at last!

Reg had made extensive plans involving lots of drinking, twiddling with some poetry, and reconnecting with an old school friend who didn’t get on with Martin.

What happened in practice was he found himself blocked again, and his friend was out of town.

There was still alcohol, of course. (There was always alcohol.) But it wasn’t doing for Reg what it usually did, namely, leaving him relaxed and contented.

On the second evening after Martin & Co.

had departed, Reg downed four pints of lager and spent a fruitless session at his desk attempting to write something.

He ended up botching it so badly that he took Martin’s advice and wrote a poem consisting entirely of the word shit in different thesaurical iterations and nonstandard spellings.

Frustrated, he left his attic bedroom and went downstairs to the repurposed office where Joel had been sleeping, where there was a poetry anthology that sometimes helped inspire him.

He couldn’t remember the title, but the paper cover used to be red and had faded to orange over years of exposure to sunlight.

He was poring over the bookcase looking for it when his gaze happened to fall on the bed, and he remembered covering it with the shirts he’d bought for Joel.

He remembered the red-gold light in Joel’s eyes when he wore the mulberry shirt, and Reg had an epiphany.

This recent lifting of his writer’s block?

Hadn’t been a fluke. In retrospect, he should have made the connection sooner.

Every time he’d managed to produce a poem since the spring had been a direct result of an interaction with Joel.

It had happened too often to be coincidental.

That this latest block had occurred immediately after Joel had left with Martin could also not be a coincidence.

Which meant that that nerdy, consumptive little shit was his muse.

The revelation flummoxed him. He spent the rest of the evening trying to come to terms with it. Admittedly, he needed to sleep off the effects of the lager first, so his immediate response to this was to go to bed. When sleep proved unattainable, he texted Flip:

How are you?

And got no response.

When he woke the next morning (with still no response from Flip), the realization that he needed someone caused Reg to unravel slightly, and he had a small existential crisis.

For the past six years, he’d been labouring under the relatively harmless assumption that while human companionship could be pleasant, it wasn’t something he required.

Now, he knew that he needed companionship—specifically, one particular person’s companionship.

Just then, he heard the familiar crunch of gravel on the pebbled drive and looked out the window to see Martin’s rental car, two days before it was due to return.

Reg bounded down the stairs to the front door and hauled it open.

Martin was first out of the car and began pulling luggage out of the boot.

Juliet got out next, stretched, and took one of the bags from him.

“Joel, dear,” said Juliet. “We’re back.”

Joel was fast asleep in the back seat.

“I’ll give you a hand,” said Reg to Martin.

Martin handed Joel’s bag to Reg, then picked up his own, and he and Reg went inside while Juliet tried to wake Joel.

“You’re back early,” said Reg.

“New Bug put a damper on things,” said Martin.

“His bedroom was right between mine and Juliet’s—she insisted.

I got fed up, but what else could I do? I couldn’t leave the little cockblocker by the side of the road with a note saying ‘Please look after this new bug’ taped to him, could I?

So, I suggested we cut the visit short, because you were likely to be feeling lonely. ”

“Ha!” said Reg, feeling caught out.

“I know,” said Martin, “but I couldn’t tell her the truth, could I?”

Reg felt so elated Joel was back that he couldn’t suppress his good mood.

After lunch, which Joel attended, blinking and bleary-eyed, Reg proposed a game of croquet.

The lawn had been freshly cut and watered, and it looked so lovely and green that, at Reg’s insistence, they removed their shoes and socks and went barefoot on the grass, cool and wet, the clippings sticking to their skin.

“I’ve never played croquet before,” said Juliet. “Nor has Joel.”

“Then let’s play in teams,” said Martin. “Juliet can play with me, and Reg can play with N—Joel.”

Reg brought out the croquet set and pre-emptively selected colours for everyone.

“Joel, you’re orange,” said Reg. “I’ll be red, naturally. Juliet can be yellow—matches your hair. And Martin, this is you.” Reg handed Martin the blue ball and winked at him.

Martin threw Reg a death glare.

It was one of those perfect summer days, a chorus of leaves shuffling in the breeze, the lawn dappled in shadow, and no sound but birdsong and the clack of mallets on balls. With occasional swearing.

Joel had no idea what to do, so Reg coached him.

“The most important aspect of croquet is being an absolute dick to your opponents,” said Reg.

After Joel, on Reg’s advice, tapped Martin’s blue ball with his orange one, Reg picked up Joel’s ball and set it beside Martin’s. “Put your foot on your ball and use your mallet to hit Martin’s ball.”

“How hard?” said Joel.

“Launch it into space, if possible,” said Reg.

“Steady on,” said Martin.

Joel wound up.

“Channel your killer instinct,” said Reg.

Joel hit the ball with such speed and vigour that Martin’s ball flew off the grass and punched a hole through a nearby garden gnome. Joel and Reg burst out laughing and kept laughing until they collapsed on the lawn.

“Right in the nut sack,” said Martin. “Spot on, Joel.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” said Joel, wiping tears out of his eyes with the heel of his hand.

“He can always adopt,” said Reg.

They folded up with laughter again.

Martin retrieved his ball from amidst the shards of gnome. “I refuse to play this ball from between his legs.”

In the kitchen afterwards, Reg poured glasses of fizzy lemonade for everyone.

“I can pay for the gnome,” said Juliet.

“No need,” said Reg. “My father’s got six more in the shed.”

“I haven’t heard Joel laugh since... It’s been years,” said Juliet. She looked sad. “You’re so good to him, Reg.”

Reg, for once, didn’t know what to say, so he laughed, nervously.

––––––––

F our days before Martin , Juliet, and Joel were due to fly back to Canada, while they were all getting changed for dinner, Reg heard a knock at his bedroom door, and two seconds later, Martin let himself in and threw himself onto Reg’s bed.

“Do come in,” said Reg. “Make yourself at home.”

“Look,” said Martin, “how about letting Joel stay on here when Juliet and I fly back to Canada?”

For a moment, Reg was paranoid Martin had sussed out the Joel Situation and was trying to trick him into confessing. “I’m not sure...”

“It’s just that I haven’t managed to make much headway with Juliet, and if I could have her to myself for the rest of the summer, I could...”

“Shag her?”

“Don’t be crude, Reg. Juliet’s more likely to accept you hosting him if you and I both present the idea to her. I know it’s longer than I said he’d be here, but it’s a big house, you’d hardly notice him, and you two seem to be getting on.”

“No one’s asked him if he wants to stay,” said Reg. “Or have you or Juliet done that?”

“No,” said Martin. “If I ask him to stay, he’ll know why. He’s not stupid. He knows he’s a third wheel where Juliet and I are concerned. Would be better if you asked him.”

Reg sighed.

“Please, Reg. I’ll owe you one. I’ll owe you a million.”

Reg feigned reluctance. “All right.” He finished tying his tie. “How do I look?”

“Like a pop-eyed dandy,” said Martin, then added quickly, “But fine otherwise.”

Reg found Joel waiting on the drive, wearing the lilac silk shirt he’d bought him.

Reg approached him and made his offer. “You can convalesce here until you’ve returned to form. Would you like to stay, even though it’ll be just me keeping you company?”

“Yes,” said Joel.

“Good.” Reg felt elated. “I’ll be here for the duration, in any case. We can fly back together in August. I’ll have my travel agent change your ticket.”

“Reg?” said Joel, with so much intelligence in his eyes that Reg felt wary. “Did Martin put you up to this?”

Reg shifted uncomfortably. “He suggested it, but if I didn’t want you to stay, I wouldn’t have asked.”

“Why do you want me to stay?”

Joel had been treated as an inconvenience for so long he apparently couldn’t fathom anyone wanting his company. The truth was that Reg didn’t want to spend the rest of the summer without Joel, but he could hardly say so without sounding weird. Or having to come to terms with it.

“It would help me write my poetry,” said Reg.

“How does me being here help?”

“If I knew that, I could bottle whatever it is and keep it on a shelf to drink whenever I’m blocked,” said Reg.

“All I know is that when you’re in my vicinity, I’m inspired to write poetry, which is good, because I have a thesis to finish.

Benefiting from the phenomenon does not require me to understand it. ”

“Oh,” said Joel.

The pensive look returned, making Reg uneasy. Joel was young and naive, but he wasn’t stupid. Martin and Juliet joined them a few minutes later, and they all set off for the pub, Juliet and Joel lagging behind Martin and Reg.

“So?” said Martin quietly.

“The deed is done,” said Reg.

“Now I’ve got to convince Juliet,” said Martin.

“No, you don’t. If Joel wants to stay, he can stay. He’s an adult. Juliet can’t stop him.”

“Still, better if she’s on board,” said Martin. “I don’t want her getting ideas about staying as well.”

When they got to the pub, and Joel went off to the washroom, Juliet said to Reg, “I hear you’ve asked Joel to stay with you this summer.”

“He’s happy here,” said Reg. “You said yourself it was the first time you’d heard him laugh in years. Shame if he went home to an empty house in Canada.”

“It’s kind of you to offer, Reg,” said Juliet, “but I don’t want to presume, and I’m sure Joel doesn’t either.”

“No presumption at all,” said Reg.

“Let me at least pay you,” said Juliet. “To cover Joel’s expenses while he’s here.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but it’s not necessary. The truth is, I can’t afford not to have him here. He’s been such a fantastic muse to me these past two months. He’s the reason I’ll be finishing my thesis on time—if he stays. If anything, I should be paying him.”

Unlike Joel, Juliet took this at face value.

When Reg and Martin went to the bar to get their drinks, Martin said, “That was a bit much. Not that I’m not grateful to have Juliet all to myself for the rest of the summer, but really...describing New Bug as some kind of wellspring of creative genius stretches credulity.”

“He’s my writer’s un blocker,” said Reg. “Just the creative fibre I need.”

“I can’t imagine wanting to spend an entire summer with him.”

“And yet, you asked me to. I’m sure I can find ways to amuse him.”

“You won’t do anything stupid, will you?”

“Don’t I usually do stupid things when I’m in England?” said Reg.

“Don’t do anything unusually stupid. Please return him to Juliet in the same condition he’s being loaned to you.”

“You’re genuinely worried about him, are you?” said Reg.

“I’m genuinely worried what Juliet would do to me if something happens to him while he’s in your care.”

“Ah, selfishness.”

“I knew you’d understand.”

Martin and Juliet spent their last few days in England trying to get as much sightseeing in as possible.

Martin managed to have two actual “dates” with her by leaving Joel behind at the house with Reg, but Juliet wouldn’t agree to more than that, because she wanted to spend as much time as she could with him before she left for Canada.

On the day of their departure, Martin carried his and Juliet’s bags to the rental car.

“Where’s Joel?” said Juliet.

“Getting lunch for you,” said Reg.

Juliet reached for and squeezed Reg’s arm. “Look after him.”

“I will,” said Reg. But he had difficulty meeting her eyes.

Joel came out of the house, carrying wrapped sandwiches and slices of quiche Bethan had made for their trip. He stowed them in the car and then Juliet hugged him, for so long that Reg felt uncomfortable. And guilty.

“See you in August,” said Martin to Reg.

“Right,” said Reg.

Reg and Joel stood on the pebbled drive, waving to Martin and Juliet as they left in their rental car.

“What are we going to do now?” said Joel.

“We could play Subbuteo.”

“What’s that?”

“Oh, my sweet summer child.” Reg led Joel back inside. “You have so much to learn.”