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A fatal mistake	By : fundamellie Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Pet Shop Boys Views: 944 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the celebrity I am writing about. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
The two weeks had passed in a blur and thank God for that, Neil thought as he was sitting in Daniel’s car, half dozing. They had nearly reached their destination, which was Fernlees Hall, Neil’s house near Durham. Daniel had suggested to pick him up after his ‘holiday’ had ended and Neil had readily accepted, glad that nobody apart form his friend was going to see him for a couple of days. Daniel had looked shocked when he had met his friend outside the hospital. It was no miracle; Neil had lost a few pound, the colour of his skin was ashen and he had dark shadows underneath his eyes. Neil had chosen not to comment and to just let the moment pass. He did not want to discuss what had happened, how awful he had felt and how many times he had feared that he would crack and go back to the drugs for a bit of comfort. That was over now and he was not willing to keep looking back.
The sun was already low above the trees, glowing faintly in the dull December sky. Only a few days until Christmas and Neil had never felt all the Christmas Carols they played on the radio to be so much out of place. Or maybe he just felt out of place. Daniel had not talked much during their drive, accepting his friend’s silence without arguing.
When they finally drove up the long drive-way that led up to Neil’s house, Daniel spoke up.
“So, are you going to ask Stefan back for Christmas?”
Neil let the question echo through his mind for a moment, still looking out into the falling darkness. All the trees were bare; naked skeletons against the darkening sky.
Then he turned to face Daniel, slowly. Everything he did at the moment seemed to happen slowly. And not only because every muscle in his body was still aching.
“No. I thought about this a lot. I think it’s better if I stick to my decision. If I don’t take him back. I will call him and possibly tell him some pretty lies about how it was not quite true what I said that night. That I was angry and wanted to shock him and crap like that. But I don’t think we should make up. Too much has happened between us.”
Daniel just shook his head, as if wanting to say ‘I never heard such nonsense before!’ . But he did not want to argue with his friend and so he did not comment and let his disapproval get lost in the darkness.

Daniel was gone the next morning as he had still a week of teaching ahead of him before the Christmas holidays began. Neil was left on his own, which was what he had intended to be. He felt he needed some time to think things through and find a way back to his old life and his old self. He had even told his sister Susan, who lived near-by that he wanted to be left alone. No visits in the evening, not even from the kids until he chose to come over on Christmas Eve.
But he soon found out that his days here were going to be rather bleak.
Even though he felt physically better, he was still not back to form. He felt emotionally low, slightly depressed and indecisive. It annoyed him like hell that he could not make his mind up about anything, could not concentrate on the work he had wanted to get done or on anything else really. His thoughts were always drifting back to that night with Lynn and his last, dreadful fight with Stefan. He was missing his boy so much in was almost like physical pain. He felt the aching in his heart, like a weight crushing on his chest. It was as if he was paralysed, he had trapped himself in his own prison. His bad conscience, his guilt and the hurt were keeping him from moving forward and leaving all of that nightmare behind.
So on the first day he did do nothing much, apart from taking a long walk with his dog Kevin and reading, although he found he could not even concentrate on this very well. He started several books, leafed through some magazines without taking any of the plot or of the information in. The hours had passed like that and darkness was falling and he had no clue where all the time had gone. He had done nothing and there was hardly anything in the work he hated more than wasting time. He was tired of feeling like being stuck in some sort of limbo and set up a schedule for himself. He decided to get up every morning at 9 o’clock, to shower, get dressed and have breakfast. Then he would go for long walks with Kevin, which would take them through the moor, after that he would go through the papers or watch some news on the telly and maybe a bit of lunch. When practising some of his yoga and going for a nice, long jog. Then a shower and some work until supper and before he went to bed he a swim in the pool. That way he was at least ensuring that he would fall asleep from sheer exhaustion and would not lay awake all night pondering the same things over and over again.
It worked well for the next 5 days; life was easier to handle when he kept himself busy. All the physical exercise helped to clear his mind and put his body back to shape as well. It would be lie to say that he did not think about Stefan and what had happen anymore but at least he did not do so 24 hours a day straight.
Neil did still not feel very jolly or merry and in the mood for Christmas, but had promised that he would not miss the family celebration. Some display of normality would do him good after all and he was looking forward to spending some time with people he cared about. So when the morning of the 23rd December dawned grey and dull, Neil nevertheless felt better than he had in months. He had slept through the night and as far as he could remember no dark shadows had chased him through his dreams. He had not woken with a start when the first ray of dim sunlight had fallen on his face, covered in cold sweat and screaming either Lynn’s or Stefan’s name. Instead this bundle of energy named Kevin the dog had jumped into his bed and had licked his hand and ear until his owner had opened his eyes and turned all his attention on him. Even though he was usually strict with the dog and did not allow him on the sofa or into the bed, Neil had not been able to suppress the sleepy smile that such a wake up treatment forced onto his face. It was shortly before 8 o’clock; mist still hung low over the fields and obscured the trees from view. Some of the trunks and branches were floating in and out of sight, like ghosts of the forest. The grass and the pebble-pathway were glittering in the vague morning light as frost had painted them silver-white. The air in the hallway was still chilly, as the fire in the fireplace had died down early the night before and Neil had just turned the central heating back on. When he went down the main staircase, Kevin still joyfully bouncing up and down next to him, he was humming some Christmas carol softly to himself. Maybe everything would fall back into place after all, maybe Danny was right and he would come up with a solution to mend the scars.
Feeling comfortable in his turtleneck and jeans, still warm from the shower Neil was looking forward to his first cup of Jamaican blue mountain coffee; the smell was even better than the black liquid itself. When suddenly the phone rang, Neil just hurried over to the backdoor and let Kevin outside, then made his way into the sitting room and picked up the receiver. He was convinced that it must either be Susan or his mother, bugging him about when he was going to come over tomorrow and if he was going to attend the midnight mess with them.
“Morning!” he cheerfully addressed the caller at the other end of the line. Then he frowned as he could not make out who was talking to him or in which language he was spoken to.
“Yes, you got the right number, but who am I talking to? Oh, Patrick, it’s you, I almost did not recognise your voice. What is it? You… You almost sound like you’re crying.”
Suddenly his good mood evaporated like an over-blown balloon. The fact the Stefan’s father was calling at 10 minutes past eight in the morning was alarming enough but the sound of his voice, choked as if by tears, send a cold shiver down Neil’s back. His stomach felt jumpy and his mouth had gone dry. So he listened to what Stefan’s father had to tell him with growing horror.
“Yes, thanks for calling me. I will call you back soon. Yes, I promise and call me anytime if you need my help. Bye.”
How he managed to talk in coherent sentences after listening to Patrick’s dreadful news would forever remain a mystery to him but as soon as Stefan’s father had hung up all composure seemed to have left him. He stood there for what seemed like an eternity still holding the receiver, listening to the monotone beep. He could not move; he was frozen to the spot, unable to do anything, to think anything. All he could do was hear the echo of Patrick’s words in his mind again and again. His conscience was repeating the words that had hit him like fierce bows to his face mercilessly time after time, as if punishing him for the hurt he had afflicted.
After the longest time the receiver escaped from his grip and fell to the floor. The noise ripped the silence apart like a gunshot. Neil starred at it, startled out of his shock. Suddenly he was feeling no better than on the night he had woken Daniel.
He felt faintly sick and the urge to pour himself a drink to drown out his bad conscience or to take a line or two to numb the pain that was threatening to break his heart was almost over-powering. He closed his eyes and felt tears running down his cheek.
How bad could all of this get? How much worse could this situation become?
Unwelcome pictures took shape in his mind, pictures illustrating how terrible all of this had ended for Stefan.
It had been him who had sent the boy away; hurting him with words and actions and the lack of interest he displayed. He had said thinks that had hurt the boy badly just to stop him form asking anymore stupid questions, to prevent Stefan from figuring out the truth. And then he had hurled the truth at Stefan, without any kind of explanation and it must have seemed to the boy that it was all his fault. Neil had never mend to put any blame on Stefan, he had just wanted to save him; protect his boy from the consequences of his own mistakes and had failed miserably. How was the boy to know that Neil had never meant what he said? That he still loved the boy more than he could ever say and that he was missing him badly ever single day?
And why had he never thought about how Stefan might feel? What he was doing to him? He had been desperate because he felt so ashamed about what he had done but he should have know that sending Stefan away would not solve anything. His good intentions had helped nobody; he was lonely and missing Stefan and his boy was now recovering in a hospital bed in Munich. Recovering after the doctors had barely saved his life after Stefan had tried to kill himself. It made his stomach turn when he thought about it; Stefan almost committing suicide. Patrick had given him all the details the police had given him; apparently Stefan had been in Munich for a while before that incident. At least a hotel room on his name had been booked and paid for in advance almost three weeks ago. Nobody seemed to know what the boy had done during those weeks, his farther had not seen him, his old friends had no idea that he had been in town at all. He must have gone to the graveyard were his mother lay buried on the evening of the 22nd of December some time before 6 o’clock p.m. because the caretaker of the vast area swore that by 15 minutes past 6 p.m. he and his helpers had locked all entries. The boy then must have taken a whole box of some strong sleeping pills – some which are available only on prescription – and then had drunken at least half a bottle of cheap whiskey before he passed out. That must have happened around 11.20 p.m., judging by the severity of the frostbite he had suffered and the temperature his body had cooled down to. What had Patrick said? ‘Stefan had good luck that some old woman who was up very early this morning found him just in time. She knew a spot where the hinges of some door were broken so that she could enter whenever she wanted to. She saved him; God bless her. Just an hour or so longer out there lying on the naked earth without cover and he would have frozen to death!’
That old lady had called her son for help who then had phoned an ambulance and 10 minutes later help had arrived. The boy was rushed to hospital, his stomach pumped and he was gradually warmed up and hooked to infusions and by the time Patrick was finally informed and allowed to see him, he was stable but still unconscious.
So at least the boy would live but Neil did not dare to imagine how the story would continue; how they both could continue if at all together. How would the boy recover? How would he deal with all of this shit?
Neil had stopped crying, wiping at his wet face absent-mindedly. He was still in the sitting-room, staring out of the window now. He could not help picturing Stefan’s thin body in the white sheets of the hospital bed, his pale face reflecting his hurt and looking so terribly fragile. Neil felt numb and horrified, guilty and forlorn. And it all came down to one single question, one seemingly simple question:
How the hell could something that had started out so right turn so horribly wrong?
- 5
- 6
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A fatal mistake