stopped halfway to Alex's mouth. So that was what this was about. He pushed the bowl away from him and stood up, reaching for his jacket. "Thanks for the soup," he said. "I'm fine now."
Ziggy seldom felt lonely. An only child, he was accustomed to his own company and never lacked diversion. His mother had always looked at other parents as if they were mad when they complained about their children being bored in the school holidays. Boredom had never been a problem she'd had to contend with.
But tonight, loneliness had seeped into the little house on Fife Park. He had plenty of work to keep him busy, but for once Ziggy craved company. Weird was off with his guitar, learning how to praise the Lord in three chords. Alex had come home in a foul mood after a rumble with the Right and an encounter with that copper Lawson that had turned very sour. He'd got changed then gone off to some slide lecture on Venetian painters. And Mondo was out somewhere, probably getting laid.
Now that was an idea. The last time he'd had sex had been quite a while before they'd stumbled over Rosie Duff. He'd gone to Edinburgh for the evening, to the one pub he'd ever been in that welcomed gays. He'd stood at the bar, nursing a pint of lager, surreptitiously glancing to either side, carefully not making eye contact. After half an hour or so, he'd been joined by a man in his late twenties. Denim jeans, shirt and jacket. Good looking, in a tough guy sort of way. He'd struck up a conversation, and they'd ended up having fast but satisfying sex against the toilet wall. It had been all over well before the last train home.
Ziggy hankered after something more than the anonymous encounters with strangers that were his only experience of sex. He wanted what his straight friends seemed to slip into with ease. He wanted courtship and romance. He wanted someone with whom he could share an intimacy that went beyond the exchange of body fluids. He wanted a boyfriend, a lover, a partner. And he had no idea how to find one.
There was a Gay Soc at the university, he knew that much. But as far as he could gather, it consisted of half a dozen guys who seemed almost to relish the controversy of being seen to be gay. The politics of Gay Liberation interested Ziggy, but from what he'd seen of these guys posturing round the campus, they had no serious political engagement. They just liked being notorious. Ziggy wasn't ashamed of being gay, but he didn't want it to be the only thing people knew about him. Besides, he wanted to be a doctor, and he had a shrewd suspicion that a career as a gay activist wouldn't help him achieve his ambition.
So for now, the only outlet for his feelings was the casual encounter. As far as he knew, there were no pubs in St. Andrews where he was likely to find what he was looking for. But there were a couple of places where men hung out, ready for anonymous sex with a stranger. The drawback was that they were in the open air, and in this weather, there wouldn't be many braving the elements. Still, he couldn't be the only guy in St. Andrews wanting sex tonight.
Ziggy pulled on his sheepskin jacket, laced up his boots and walked out into the freezing cold night air. A brisk fifteen minute walk brought him to the back of the ruined cathedral. He crossed over to The Scores, making for what remained of St. Mary's Church. In the shadow of the broken walls, men often lurked, trying to look as if they were out for an evening stroll that encompassed a bit of architectural heritage. Ziggy squared his shoulders and tried to look casual.
Down by the harbor, Brian Duff was drinking with his cronies. They were bored. And they were just drunk enough to want to do something about it. "This is no fucking fun," his best pal Donny complained. "And we're too skint to go somewhere you can get a decent night out."
The complaint ran back and forth across the group for a while. Then Kenny had his brainwave. "I ken what we can do. Fun, and money. And no comebacks."
"What's that, then?" Brian demanded.
"Let's go and mug a few nancy boys."
They looked at him as if he was speaking Swahili. "What?" Donny said.
"It'll be