Majorca Flats -- 70

The tram came to its final stop just before the beach. Jason alighted and crossed the esplanade which ran along the foreshore. Mrs Cumberledge had been right. It wasn't much of a beach. But it would do. There was sea, gold sands, sunshine, and nearby, all the essential paraphernalia of beaches: Cokes, ice-creams, ice lollies, pies. The air was redolent of suntan lotion and coconut oil. Tying Eleanor Cumberledge's towel round his waist, he changed into his new Speedos underneath it. They were a little snug, but after all, he was gay.

The sea wasn't clear, but on the other hand it didn't appear filthy. There were no breakers, he supposed because of the headlands at the mouth of the bay. He dived in to the water, which was deliciously cold, and swam out for a couple of hundred metres. After, he lay on the towel until he became too hot. He decided it was time to apply the suntan lotion. He did as much of his back as he could reach, but there was an area he missed, and he was wondering whether he'd burn just in that spot and how bad it would be when he heard a voice saying, “Do you need any help with that, mate?”

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Majorca Flats -- 69

The number 1 tram ran down Swanston St, one of the main streets in the city, crossing the line he'd just got off, right next to the café where he'd had his coffee and croissant. It couldn't have been simpler. He had to ask a few times for directions, but people seemed happy to help, and he caught a few glances from both the men and the women, glances which said, you're nice, or I think you're cute. But Jason was in no mood to play these games. It was bad enough that he'd already had sex with a total stranger, and enjoyed it, and made all sorts of implicit promises, but he knew now what he wanted. Friendship, and no more. He had given his heart to Brent and he would never do anything like that again. Love was magical and perfect while it lasted but the grief when it ended was intolerable. Never again! he swore to himself. I'll never give my heart over to someone else’s keeping again. Never.

The sight of a young couple, obviously deeply in love, filled him with a piercing sorrow. I'll never have that again, he thought. And all at once a grief so deep it close to overwhelmed him filled his heart, and he had to peer out of the tram window to hide his face and his overflowing eyes.

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