FRIDAY SERIAL - Duncan's Romancing (Epi 8)

The men's commune was situated inside a vast four floored Edwardian terraced house. Located in a tree lined street on the very edges of Finsbury Park, leaning in towards the Crouch End approaches. It even had a brass name plate, stating in cursive script that it was The Antinous Community ( MAM) The contrast couldn't have been more different to the eighties shambles that was the Mulberry Park Estate where Duncan lived. The restrained elegance of its exterior, the stained glass door, fan light and bay windows, its checker board tiled entrance porch. All deceived you about what further aesthetic beauties you might find within. 

Once entered you were confronted by a confusion of bicycles propped up in ranks in a dimly lit stairwell lobby. A hazard of epic proportions should there ever be a fire. A veritable layered forest of coats hung off the walls, as though skins had been flailed, and shoes littered the floor like smelly rats, on and off racks. A post shelf, piled with junk mail, plus the accumulated mail for people who'd lived here many bygone eras ago. All of which no one thought to throw away, return to sender, or recycle.

Dinner with Gavin had now become a regular booking. Usually whatever day Gavin was cooking for the commune. He was an excellent cook, able to rustle up a more than passable curry. To which everyone in the community enthusiastically attended. There were apparently some commune members whose cooked meals were best avoided. The worst one consisting of over cooked rice, boiled potatoes, topped with pasta in a thin insipid baked bean sauce. The boys usually arranging en mass to be out on those nights. Staying at a boyfriends flat. Sneaking out to buy takeaway. But most assembled like members of a dissenting sect in the greasy spoon cafe just over the hill in Hornsey Rise.

Duncan's general impression of the commune was how grubby and uncared for it was. Which considering what a mess his own flat was in currently, was somewhat hypocritical of him. But he saw that as a temporary aberration which he currently was in the process, at least in his imaginative intentions, of removing. One day soon it would be an immaculate and cool place to live in once more. 

Cleaning in the community, according to Gavin, had always been a perpetual problem. Initially everyone had put their name down to clean specific areas. Left to their own volition when to do this. It didn't matter when, just so long as it was done once a week. But a young man's sense for how to clean, or even if something needed cleaning at all, varies quite widely.  Most had never touched even a duster before joining the commune. Their upbringing failed to instruct their gay male progeny in the arcane art of noticing where and when dirt was accumulating, and taking responsibility to clean it. At present they cleaned the house collectively on a Wednesday, befor they had a regular meeting as a commune. Everyone could then at least see it was being done, however ineffectively half arsed.

Over these dinners and hanging our together afterwards, it became clear how well they got on. Gavin had a charm to him, a sharply observed wit. He'd read quite widely, judging by the references he made and the packed bookcases in his room. Though nine years older than Duncan, this did not matter. He was just a lovely kind natured guy, very considerate and attentive. Becoming a bit of a mentor, that Duncan felt he could model himself on. They tended not to talk in any detail about what his beliefs or religious practice's were. He just referred casually to (Runga Bunga La Di Da ) or his current Rosicrucian or Theosophical reading. Duncan, at this point, didn't think it the right time to enquire what this meant in detail. Looking it up on Google later, he wasn't much wiser. Basically, it was all the best bits world religions held in common, rammed together in a mash up, with some sort of associated occult undertow.

In principle, no sex was meant to take place in the commune. But in reality, if you put a whole bunch of gay men in a house together, there were always relationships going on between commune members. Ones that were diplomatically turned a blind eye to. Gavin, however, felt it an important principle to respect. So signs of affection between them, were only when they went out. A discreet hug or squeeze of the hand in the park, a parting kiss in the community porch. It was all quite quaintly chaste and gentle in nature. This was not what Duncan was used to. The rush to get raunchy, followed by the desire never to see them ever again afterwards, once you discovered they were a racist, misogynist, Tory voting bastard, with halitosis. Would he ever fully get over Zak?

Gavin's room in the commune had beautiful period furniture, soft warm coloured walls, and felt like a haven of order and refinement. Surrounded by an other wise chaotic commune. Built, so it seemed, out of cobbled together third hand IKEA units, with several layers of chipped emulsion paintwork. Some might have call this a patina of age, but its real resemblance was to distressed scruffy mechano. Conscious of Gavin's taste and sophistication, Duncan was reluctant to invite him back to his flat. At least, not until he'd tidied, cleaned and purged it of the detritus formed during his long period of depressive slump and inactivity. The burgeoning relationship with Gavin gave him all the incentive he needed to finally sort it out.

When he and it was ready, there was a knock on his flat door and there stood a beaming Gavin with a bunch of slightly wind battered tulips. Both tittering like bashful teensagers as he stepped in, Gavin closed the door behind him and gave Duncan the deepest groping, kiss and embrace. Throwing the flowers on a side table he asked,

'So where's the bedroom?'

Duncan edged him towards it, in a stumbling straddling walk, whilst still in an embraced kiss. Closing the door behind him with a practiced flick of the foot.

NEXT EPISODE  
Duncan's Evident Curiosity ( Episode 9 / 12 )
Will be posted next Friday 28th October 2022