The End Of The Road? - Part Three of The Great Dane Saga by Alp Mortal
Categories: Contemporary Romance | Gay
Word Count: 18,430 Heat Rating: 2 Price: $ .99 Available here:
 |
Meet Dane Danois - the most fabulous gay man in the Universe ... in his own, never humble opinion. A man driven to live life to the full, and if there's a chance that he can help a friend along the way, he will. A sharp-suited, sharp-witted, sometimes reckless, sometimes dangerous, always intoxicating agent of change ... and loyal to a T.
In The End Of The Road? Dane is back in London. Four years on the rollercoaster with Ace have left him broke, divorced, and disconnected from the world and the friends he once cherished so much. In reconnecting with Susie and Anton, Dane begins the painful process of making the change to find true happiness. There is much healing to go through first, issues to address with Eugene, and loose ends to tie off with past lovers. End of the road? Not on your life! More of a renaissance - the new Dane may be calmer, drink green tea and do yoga, but the fire is still burning fiercely in his belly. With life, at age 50, beginning to turn a corner, and maybe at last making some sense, a proposal arrives out of the blue - along with the question: Was it always a matter of when and not if? The Great Dane Saga charts the life of Dane Danois, and his many and varied friendships and relationships over the course of a 40 year period. The six parts of the story do not run in strict chronological order. That is because the story was never going to be a saga, but after I finished part one, it was clear that Dane was not going to shut up until I had written down everything he wanted to say - he was a poor narrator. Dane is neither wholly good nor wholly bad - he is just Dane - perfect in his imperfections. The six parts of The Great Dane Saga originally appeared in 2013, in single volumes, and then in the compendium titled All The World. All volumes were removed from the shelf in 2014 for re-editing. The six individual volumes, and the compendium, will re-appear during the course of 2016. I am always very happy to receive your feedback. If you wish to contact me directly, please email me at: [email protected]. Visit the website, www.alpmortal.weebly.com, for updates on the next gay romantic story or crime thriller which I am working on. Thank you, Alp Mortal |
Chapter One – Hi, honey; I’m home!
“Hi, honey; I’m home!”
The flat, of course, was empty - Cheryl clean but empty - cold and empty, not unlike the returning occupant.
I can’t complain; four years on the rollercoaster with Ace. I’m surprised it lasted that long. He was very sweet, though, wasn’t he? Pity he didn’t like the taste of Victoria plums as much as me. I’m only grateful he waited until after my fiftieth birthday; spending that as a single gay man would have been too much. So; who’s left standing and what the fuck are they doing is what I need to know!
I made no more of a fool of myself than Anton had predicted. His Bentley will surely need to be updated by now. Anyway, this is not the past we’re talking about but the here and now and, more importantly, the future ... and what the fuck am I going to do?
I effectively gave Bonne Amour to Eugene and Seb, taking my share out and leaving Cybil and Henry to provide the right kind of guiding hand, but to be honest, Eugene and Seb really didn’t need a guiding hand - a firm one at times but not a guiding one. Is he still with Eric? So much to catch up on. So, where to start?
I didn’t lose touch with the important people but I did see a lot less of them. Perhaps that was no bad thing. Sam’s then Cybil’s then FS on a Friday; the dogs, noodles, and the soup kitchen on a Saturday; lunch with the gang on Sunday; a week of insane work pressure. It’d had its day.
Fuck; it’s good to be back and single! Isn’t it?
Who am I? The ex; the ex-minor celebrity. I no longer have my world the way it was - no super membership card for FS. Does the old one still work? I am nothing now except I still have the house on Jersey, renting it out from time to time pays the bills. I sold my shares in Bonne Amour; that fuelled the fire for four years. I have some money, of course - a few thousand. A single gay man of fifty; it’s almost tragic. Still; I guess I can re-invent myself. What did Anton say; change or remain lonely and unfulfilled? I am lonely and unfulfilled ... so I guess that means I have to change.
The phone rang.
“Dane; alone, depressed, hungry, and cold.”
“Hi, sweetheart. I heard you were back; what’s the plan?”
“Susie! How’s Joshua?”
“Doing very well. What are you doing?”
“I just got home; the place is cold and dead.”
“Come over for dinner.”
“Okay; you can catch me up on all the news. I’ll bring takeout.”
“I’ve cooked; just bring yourself and a good bottle of wine. See you within the hour. I’m so pleased you’re back.”
I went to Susie’s. Susie - one-time hostess at the club, and the mother of Joshua. Now very active in raising money for the charity that is investing in the treatment of Joshua and all of the other children like him - kick-started by the million pounds that we raised at the Viv benefit. Jesus; was that four years ago?
“It’s over?”
“Yes; it’s over. Fifty and bang, you’re dead.”
“Well; you look forty or even thirty-eight. What’s the plan?”
“I have absolutely no idea. Where is everyone?”
“Let’s see ... Sam and Judy went to Italy. Alex and Edith got married, had a child, and then got divorced. Mary died; Phil gave up the club. Barry still runs it but things are not as they were. Cal took over from Desmond in Odessa. Desmond is in Andorra, running a ski lodge. Eve still has the café. Dorian married and then divorced the pop star. Henry’s gone funny in the head. Cybil still runs the salon but it’s not quite the same. Colin is still on Broadway - married to Terry. Luke is back in the UK and, well you know about Eugene and Sebastian. Eugene’s still with Eric, and Sebastian dates Ricardo or Fabio depending on who is in town. Viv is of course still Viv. I haven’t heard how Angelo is … Derek and Yvonne are in New Zealand … I think that’s it.”
“How’s Jake?”
“Working too hard; he’s good. He’ll be back later.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“You can do anything.”
“I used to be able to. I had friends and contacts, and my finger on the pulse. It’s like I’ve landed in a foreign country - or on a different planet. If it wasn’t for you, I’d not recognise myself or anything.”
“What do you want to happen; turn the clock back? What would be the point? Everything has moved on and you have to as well. Nothing fundamentally has changed but you have a golden opportunity to start over and avoid re-making some of the mistakes of the past …”
“I guess I should see Anton.”
“If you think he’s going to tell you something you don’t already know.”
“I know what he’ll say; just what you did. So; re-born, not unattractive, still fit, I have some money, and I have you ... all I lack is the goal.”
“You don’t need a goal just yet. You need to think, and if you want something to do to while away the daylight hours then there’s plenty ... but you can’t slot yourself back into the dress circle, Dane; your position is inhabited by other guys now. What you need to ask yourself is ‘Back four or even more years ago, what were the guys of fifty- something doing that I admired and was looking forward to?’ And don’t judge yourself by anyone else’s standard, least of all your old standard. Have a stall on the market; set up a consultancy business; run a florist shop; work in the library, but don’t hanker for the life of Dane circa forty-two or forty-six. As I remember, it didn’t make you happy, and if you don’t mind me saying, the last four years have been a glittering example of how best to avoid making the change … Now; pay me what you would have paid Anton, uncork that wine, and I hope you’re hungry because it’s lasagne …”
An evening with one of my few remaining and closest friends is like fairy dust. I felt better instantly; if only to hear her voice, and Jake’s when he came in. I left after coffee and went back to the flat, feeling warmer and fuller and less depressed. What did I used to look forward to? I can’t honestly remember - not retirement and not comfortable shoes!
Am I being too hard on myself? Won’t something happen like it did four years ago when I met Eugene and we started Bonne Amour? Jesus; perhaps I should sign up. I don’t need a guy just now; the ink is barely dry on the divorce papers. I need a purpose and I need an income.
I texted Anton.
‘I’m back - help!’
His reply was suitably ascorbic.
‘How dare you make me wait four years between new cars?! Come over tomorrow. I have a day off and we might do something. I know where your head is; just don’t worry. Do not go to FS tonight; it’s crap these days anyway. Rent your favourite movie or start re-reading your favourite book. The new-born should not move too far away from its mother’s teat.’
‘My mother never breastfed me; has that been my problem all these years? Fear not; I’ll be over tomorrow - say ten? It would be great to go out actually.’
‘So pleased you’re back; it hasn’t been the same.’
‘See you tomorrow ...’
I’m already luckier than most; back and hooked up with the two friends who I probably valued the most and still do. He said not to worry. I know something will happen, and it would be nice to finally make the change. I just want to know that everything that happened had happened for a reason, that there was a point to all of it. Why can I not shake the feeling that, despite it all, I seem to have failed?
“Hi, honey; I’m home!”
The flat, of course, was empty - Cheryl clean but empty - cold and empty, not unlike the returning occupant.
I can’t complain; four years on the rollercoaster with Ace. I’m surprised it lasted that long. He was very sweet, though, wasn’t he? Pity he didn’t like the taste of Victoria plums as much as me. I’m only grateful he waited until after my fiftieth birthday; spending that as a single gay man would have been too much. So; who’s left standing and what the fuck are they doing is what I need to know!
I made no more of a fool of myself than Anton had predicted. His Bentley will surely need to be updated by now. Anyway, this is not the past we’re talking about but the here and now and, more importantly, the future ... and what the fuck am I going to do?
I effectively gave Bonne Amour to Eugene and Seb, taking my share out and leaving Cybil and Henry to provide the right kind of guiding hand, but to be honest, Eugene and Seb really didn’t need a guiding hand - a firm one at times but not a guiding one. Is he still with Eric? So much to catch up on. So, where to start?
I didn’t lose touch with the important people but I did see a lot less of them. Perhaps that was no bad thing. Sam’s then Cybil’s then FS on a Friday; the dogs, noodles, and the soup kitchen on a Saturday; lunch with the gang on Sunday; a week of insane work pressure. It’d had its day.
Fuck; it’s good to be back and single! Isn’t it?
Who am I? The ex; the ex-minor celebrity. I no longer have my world the way it was - no super membership card for FS. Does the old one still work? I am nothing now except I still have the house on Jersey, renting it out from time to time pays the bills. I sold my shares in Bonne Amour; that fuelled the fire for four years. I have some money, of course - a few thousand. A single gay man of fifty; it’s almost tragic. Still; I guess I can re-invent myself. What did Anton say; change or remain lonely and unfulfilled? I am lonely and unfulfilled ... so I guess that means I have to change.
The phone rang.
“Dane; alone, depressed, hungry, and cold.”
“Hi, sweetheart. I heard you were back; what’s the plan?”
“Susie! How’s Joshua?”
“Doing very well. What are you doing?”
“I just got home; the place is cold and dead.”
“Come over for dinner.”
“Okay; you can catch me up on all the news. I’ll bring takeout.”
“I’ve cooked; just bring yourself and a good bottle of wine. See you within the hour. I’m so pleased you’re back.”
I went to Susie’s. Susie - one-time hostess at the club, and the mother of Joshua. Now very active in raising money for the charity that is investing in the treatment of Joshua and all of the other children like him - kick-started by the million pounds that we raised at the Viv benefit. Jesus; was that four years ago?
“It’s over?”
“Yes; it’s over. Fifty and bang, you’re dead.”
“Well; you look forty or even thirty-eight. What’s the plan?”
“I have absolutely no idea. Where is everyone?”
“Let’s see ... Sam and Judy went to Italy. Alex and Edith got married, had a child, and then got divorced. Mary died; Phil gave up the club. Barry still runs it but things are not as they were. Cal took over from Desmond in Odessa. Desmond is in Andorra, running a ski lodge. Eve still has the café. Dorian married and then divorced the pop star. Henry’s gone funny in the head. Cybil still runs the salon but it’s not quite the same. Colin is still on Broadway - married to Terry. Luke is back in the UK and, well you know about Eugene and Sebastian. Eugene’s still with Eric, and Sebastian dates Ricardo or Fabio depending on who is in town. Viv is of course still Viv. I haven’t heard how Angelo is … Derek and Yvonne are in New Zealand … I think that’s it.”
“How’s Jake?”
“Working too hard; he’s good. He’ll be back later.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“You can do anything.”
“I used to be able to. I had friends and contacts, and my finger on the pulse. It’s like I’ve landed in a foreign country - or on a different planet. If it wasn’t for you, I’d not recognise myself or anything.”
“What do you want to happen; turn the clock back? What would be the point? Everything has moved on and you have to as well. Nothing fundamentally has changed but you have a golden opportunity to start over and avoid re-making some of the mistakes of the past …”
“I guess I should see Anton.”
“If you think he’s going to tell you something you don’t already know.”
“I know what he’ll say; just what you did. So; re-born, not unattractive, still fit, I have some money, and I have you ... all I lack is the goal.”
“You don’t need a goal just yet. You need to think, and if you want something to do to while away the daylight hours then there’s plenty ... but you can’t slot yourself back into the dress circle, Dane; your position is inhabited by other guys now. What you need to ask yourself is ‘Back four or even more years ago, what were the guys of fifty- something doing that I admired and was looking forward to?’ And don’t judge yourself by anyone else’s standard, least of all your old standard. Have a stall on the market; set up a consultancy business; run a florist shop; work in the library, but don’t hanker for the life of Dane circa forty-two or forty-six. As I remember, it didn’t make you happy, and if you don’t mind me saying, the last four years have been a glittering example of how best to avoid making the change … Now; pay me what you would have paid Anton, uncork that wine, and I hope you’re hungry because it’s lasagne …”
An evening with one of my few remaining and closest friends is like fairy dust. I felt better instantly; if only to hear her voice, and Jake’s when he came in. I left after coffee and went back to the flat, feeling warmer and fuller and less depressed. What did I used to look forward to? I can’t honestly remember - not retirement and not comfortable shoes!
Am I being too hard on myself? Won’t something happen like it did four years ago when I met Eugene and we started Bonne Amour? Jesus; perhaps I should sign up. I don’t need a guy just now; the ink is barely dry on the divorce papers. I need a purpose and I need an income.
I texted Anton.
‘I’m back - help!’
His reply was suitably ascorbic.
‘How dare you make me wait four years between new cars?! Come over tomorrow. I have a day off and we might do something. I know where your head is; just don’t worry. Do not go to FS tonight; it’s crap these days anyway. Rent your favourite movie or start re-reading your favourite book. The new-born should not move too far away from its mother’s teat.’
‘My mother never breastfed me; has that been my problem all these years? Fear not; I’ll be over tomorrow - say ten? It would be great to go out actually.’
‘So pleased you’re back; it hasn’t been the same.’
‘See you tomorrow ...’
I’m already luckier than most; back and hooked up with the two friends who I probably valued the most and still do. He said not to worry. I know something will happen, and it would be nice to finally make the change. I just want to know that everything that happened had happened for a reason, that there was a point to all of it. Why can I not shake the feeling that, despite it all, I seem to have failed?
