Naked Hero - The Journey Away

exit, and smiled at them reassuringly. “Just carry on without me for a bit. Don’t worry - I’m not going to get pissed. I just want a few minutes on my own.”
    He went over to the table by the pool and placed the glasses on top of it. They remained untouched for several minutes whilst he gazed up at the Southern Cross. Then from out of his pocket he removed the sealed envelope, opened it and freed his perfect man, as he had done just the once before, for only in triumph would he allow such a reward. The photograph was rested on one of the glasses; the other was lifted and saluted with.
    “Sláinte mhaith,” Lewis toasted. Good health in Gaelic – one of the few phrases he still remembered. Then a swig was taken of the fiery brew.
    “A malt!” declared Lewis having swilled and swallowed. “I think I’m paying Murdoch too much! What do you reckon?”
    He ignored the photograph, because that was only an image. Instead he looked to the sky for an answer - so different from the one he remembered gazing at as a boy, cradled in strong arms as he was told names of constellations. Ten thousand miles he had travelled to see it, and soon it would be time to begin the journey home.
    There was silence.
    Another sip was taken. Lewis closed his eyes and felt the burn : whisky on the palate and tears on his cheeks.
    “Did I make you proud? I hope I did! Because what would be the point if not?”
    Still there was silence – from the sky and from the image, but in his heart Lewis heard an answer.
    “ I’m glad. But I’m not finished yet. Two more hurdles – maybe both at the same time... and then we can put this to rest.”
    Back in the house, the conversation had struck up again, everyone avoiding the subject that was dominating their thoughts. Only two people relaxed, unconcerned for the absent champion. Of the others, Jim was the most agitated, and eventually broke the taboo. “Somebody should go out and check that he’s all right. I don’t like this one bit.”
    “I’ll go,” said Scott.
    “Give him five more minutes, Scott,” replied Fiona. “Please!”
    After the unofficially agreed time, Jim piped up again. “On you go, Scott. It’ll be your job soon enough, so you might as well get some practice in.”
    As he walked over to where Lewis was still seated, Scott was relieved to see the drinks, only one of which appeared to have been half finished.
    “They’re getting worried about you inside. Are you okay?” he asked.
    “I just needed some time to myself. Thanks for checking on me, though. I bet Jim sent you out to make sure I’m not staggering about and falling in the pool.”
    “It’s his job to worry about you. He does it well.”
    “Aye, he does,” agreed Lewis. “…I’m glad you came out. I think we need to have a talk, don’t you? Probably won’t get too many chances for a while - you know what it’s like. Everybody wants a piece of you after something like this. Have a sit down for a minute, eh?”
    Scott joined him at the table, moving the untouched glass of whisky to one side, along with a crumpled envelope which was the only other thing on the table. He looked at Lewis, still there on the other side of the sexual abyss, but it seemed so much wider again to him - time and silence had recreated the distance. But he managed to pluck up the courage to broach the subject. “It’s been a bit of a strain over the last two days, hasn’t it - you and me?”
    “It got complicated.”
    “Yeah, I know... too complicated perhaps.”
    Lewis gazed at the worried freckly face. He could see the answer, but it had to be asked. “Second thoughts?”
    Scott nervously looked away. “Would you be annoyed if there were?”
    “Devastated!” announced Lewis then he reached out and took Scott’s hand that rested on the table, regaining his gaze and returning it with a smile. “I’m devastated that we didn’t actually do anything! You’re one hell of a man in so many ways... But I think we both know it wouldn’t really work as things stand. I couldn’t live a lie, and you’re not ready to come out. A one-night stand would have been grand, but a relationship? No – that would be way too complicated. You need to work out what you really want, Scott. And me... well, there’s something I need to work through as well. Who knows - maybe we’ll meet again under different circumstances – at the US Open perhaps. Hopefully some of my issues will have been resolved by then, and if I’m a