As he walked along the town's main street, Caelin stopped to look at the display in the men's' clothes shop. It still looked out of place to see fake Christmas snow, a tree and bright baubles next to t-shirts and shorts, but that was New Zealand. Its topsy-turvy seasons had been the reason for his coming here. Christmas this year was going to be the worst he had ever known and those to come were bleak and empty. His eyes alighted on a shirt so similar to one he had bought Wayne that the memory of why he was in New Zealand flooded into his brain.
****
"You want me to move out? Separate after fifteen years?" Caelin was stunned to hear Wayne's proclamation and struggled to make sure he had comprehended the hurtful words.
"I need freedom, freshness," Wayne announced. His hands flew in the dramatic way that Caelin knew meant he was uncomfortable with the topic matter and was subconsciously waving it away. "I've grown stale, confined, claustrophobic," the other man continued, now pacing up and down, looking anywhere but at the man who had shared his life and home for so long.
That made Caelin angry although, as always, he hid the emotion from his lover. 'I can't stand confrontation, love. I'm an artist. Negativity will destroy my creativity. You understand that don't you?' Caelin could repeat it word-for-word like a Tibetan mantra and even now it over-rode his own needs. Wayne had been am immensely successful artist, there was no denying that. But over the last three years or so, instead of creating, Wayne had preferred to party. Champagne and A-listers, out till the early hours and sleeping all day. He had done a couple of paintings in that time, but Caelin had felt they sold because of Wayne's celebrity status rather than being good pieces of art.
"So you want me out. Are we still in a relationship or is that over, too?" Caelin could not stop the bitter tone and took a step back as Wayne rounded on him, face red.
"How can I still see you? Did you just *hear* yourself? I need tranquillity and understanding. You never understood me or what I needed."
Caelin stared at Wayne's broad back. As his eyes traversed the body he knew so well, he could see the imperfections. Wayne's dark tresses had some silver glinting through; he was due his hair treatment again. His once toned body now had love-handles and his face had almost permanently red cheeks. Despite which, Caelin loved him and had thought himself loved in return. He preferred to be a stay-at-home lover. Partying was not his forte, nor was making small talk with strangers. He had always believed Wayne when the older man had claimed that the younger men he was so often photographed with were just after the publicity. A cold seed of doubt took root in his stomach.
Have I been so blind, so foolish? he asked himself.
"I'll pack an overnight case," Caelin said, his voice soft, defeated. "I take it I can come back for other stuff?"
"I'll be going on a skiing trip with Armand next week," Wayne announced airily. "You can come back for stuff then."
Armand.
Bright, beautiful, fake-blond, fake tan, perfectly crafted white teeth. He had been on Wayne's arm on the last few parties the artist had attended. A tentative enquiry from Caelin about their relationship had Wayne shrieking about lack of trust and Caelin had slept alone for three nights.
"Fine," Caelin whispered, defeated. A part of him thought he should try and fight to keep Wayne, part of him was too numb to try. He also knew the older man well enough to know that any argument now would just result in the artist flying into a rage that Caelin had no energy to deal with. This would be a miserable Christmas.
****
Caelin had finally been determined that he would not allow himself to be drowned by the waves of sorrow. He knew he could not stay and look at Christmas trees and decorations and adverts for huge family gatherings knowing he would be alone. Instead he went to a travel agency.
New Zealand.
Christmas there would be summertime, the agent enthused. Sunny days, sea, sand. Perfect getaway.
Caelin had bought his ticket immediately. How could you resist summer in winter and tags to places such as; 'City of sails', 'A place like no other' and 'The windy city'?
****
His chosen town was small. Most of the shops were along a single main street with additional stores in a mall. It suited Caelin just fine and the locals were so friendly he could hardly believe it. He would find people chatting to him as if he was a friend not a visitor.
Then he had seen the shirt in the shop window. So similar to one he had bought Wayne and it had rocked him to his core.
"Are you ok?"
A concerned voice made Caelin turn. He blinked at the young man who hovered anxiously, a hand on Caelin's shoulder as if to ground him.
"Fine," he lied. His voice cracked as if to emphasise the lie and he felt the tears burn his eyes.
"Come this way," the young man continued, as if Caelin had not spoken. "My name's Blake. I work in the coffee shop over there. Looks like you need a good, hot coffee inside you."
Before Caelin knew it, he had been ensconced in a seat in a corner of the shop, away from any curious eyes. A flat white coffee was placed in front of him along with a slice of decadent-looking chocolate cake.
"Some people can't stand sugar in their coffee, but it's good when you've had a shock, that's why I've given you the cake. Sit and take all the time you need. I'll pop back and see how you're doing in a few."
Caelin stared at the drink, cake and the small packet of handkerchiefs that had been placed before him. He had no more chance of stopping the tears than Canute did the flow of the sea. But once they were finished he did feel better. He was not going to let the memory spoil his well-earned vacation. He took a sip of the coffee. It was still warm and as good as had been promised. He even managed some of the cake.
"Awesome!"
Blake's comment had Caelin smiling as the young barista took the empty cup and mostly-empty plate away. Another coffee appeared.
"I can't really," Caelin protested, but Blake was determinedly insistent.
"Just chill, man. There's no reason to rush. It's not full-on at this time of day. You here on holiday or visiting family?"
"A getaway from it all. But sometimes you can't get away from your memories." Caelin smiled again, a melancholy movement of his lips at Blake's nod and knowing look.
"I'm sorry, man. But you don't want it to ruin the time you're here. It's nearly Christmas. What have you got lined up?"
