A Sean Carrington Adventure.
Until We Meet Again.
Following successful assignments at Windscale with their business transition and the Winfrith Nuclear Power Station decommissioning project, I was invited back this time to assist Dounreay with their business transformation.
At this time I was based in Southampton, which entailed traveling to the very northern tip of the Scottish mainland, where each trip, to and from, took almost a whole day by either driving, train or air or any combinations. Dounreay is nearer the Arctic Circle than Southampton is to the south of France.
My site tours took the format of three weeks on-site and one home based in the south of England. I was to be accommodated in the St. Clair Hotel in Thurso, the Dounreay site being about ten miles away. It was a very isolated if not lonely living arrangements. On the plus side I had the use of a site vehicle, albeit it was an old four wheel drive pickup.
I was now at the end of the first week on my second monthly tour, Friday night and finished for the week. I was sitting in the traditional bar of the St. Clair with a beer in hand watching the locals come and go, while I waited for the restaurant to open at seven. A fly on the wall situation if you like; their but not their.
The bar was not busy, mainly two groups huddled one at each end of the bar talking, with the barman serving the two groups. One group of three, from what they were saying were scaffolding contractors at the Dounreay plant, the other seemed to be a group of five or so farmers from their attire, build and local accent.
One of the farmers asked the barman by name, who was at the other end of the bar, for another pint when he has a moment, then caveated it "love". His statement attracted my attention, it wasn't offensively said but in a friendly way; seemed somewhat out of place to me. The scaffolders at the other end of the bar picked up on what he had said, and one ordered three more pints; "love". This time said aggressively and in a demeaning way to the barman.
It drew my attention to the barman, whose name was Alex from his hotel badge, local by his accent, he was tall, thin but not skinny, short brownish blond hair, he may have had an effeminate way about him but not so you would casually notice. He served the farmer first and then went to serve the scaffolders, as he handed over each pint in turn, they would say "thanks love" again each in a demining way. The barman let it pass without any visual acknowledgement or comment as to what they had just each said in turn to him and continued with his bar work.
As it seemed to have passed I concentrated on my pint, some movement broke my trance staring into my pint glass. The farmers, including some others that had joined their huddle, were now standing behind looking over the three scaffolders. Something was developing or about to happen, my first though was; is the restaurant open yet.
The scaffolders seemed to feel their presence too and turned, they quickly downed their pints, almost in unison and in one go; then left. One of the farmers said bye "loves"; Situation defused. The barman may have been gay or not, either way he was their gay or not barman. They had closed ranks and extended their wing of protection off their own. I later found out that this was a way of life with the locals in this remote location on the northern shores of Scotland.
The hotel manager came in at that point and told me that my table was ready, he saw me look at the extended group of farmers as I got up, and he smiled; must have been a local too. The meal was excellent Scottish fair as was the beer. Meal finished I decided to go for a walk, being midsummer was light twenty two out of twenty four hours. It was also a very pleasant warm evening too.
As I walked through the town and down onto and along the front, looking out to sea imaging I could see the Arctic Circle. Although not very busy, someone walking towards me attracted my attention. It was like a magnet drawing me to them, don't know why, but they did, as I seemed to be to them; I think. As we walked closer together a familiarity came from him that I could not place. Then it became clear we were at college together, must have now been over ten years ago. As we closed I remembered his name David Chandler, we were friends in our first year.
We both spoke together saying something along the lines of "fancy meeting you here". His reply was "I live here", I said I am a visitor working at the nuclear plant and staying in the St Clair hotel. I said how about a beer and a chat, he replied 'yes' I said 'lead on'. We headed back into town asking questions of each other of what happened since we were at College, we arrived and went into a pub that David knew. Although a Friday night we managed to find a quite table in a corner to talk and reminise.
David had left college after his first year, change of tack from engineering to accountancy, plus he moved house that summer with his parents to Aberdeen, his father managed to get a shore job with an oil company. After qualifying he went to work in a bank, was promoted and posted to Thurso as the bank's Loan's Manager for Caithness and Sutherland. Now living in Burnside a mile outside Thurso.
I told him what I did, where I now lived, previously in Den Haag working for oil companies, now back in the nuclear industry as a freelance business consultant. I asked are you married. He said "no, I thought you knew", I said "knew what?" That I am gay, remember that night in the college badminton club. Without hesitation I said "yes".
It had come back to me as a thunderclap; we were sitting watching a game being played, when David had put his hand discreetly on my bare leg then gently rubbed it up to my, must admit short shorts, then the inside of my leg seductively. At the time I ignored it, put it down to fooling around, I never thought he was serious; until now.
I didn't know what to say, other than I thought you were fooling around, he said "no I was very serious". I asked, then what happened after that apart from us being tanked in the badminton competition.
Nothing for a while, went to University and met someone their, we were good friends but nothing sexual ever came of it. Kept my head down and studied, then worked in a bank in Aberdeen then came up here. For the first few weeks I stayed in the St Clair hotel, got friendly with the barman, Alex. I suppose we were both lost in that front, Alex's parents drove him out of the family house in Durness, a small remote village about seventy miles from here near Cape Wrath, when he told them he was coming out as gay. I explained what had happened at the hotel, he said one of the farmers is now his partner.
