The Party Season by Sarah Mason Page A

variety. Definitely. How do I know? Because one of his ex-dates told me so. I was busy at a drinks party only a few weeks ago when a girl called Cecily came up to me and re-introduced herself. We stood chatting for a few minutes and then she said, 'It's such a pity about Dominic, isn't it?' I was slightly mystified, wondering what on earth he'd done now, when I noticed she was trying to clock my reaction. Oldest trick in the book. So I casually agreed that it was a bit of a pity and looked meaningfully back at her. Then it all came out in a rush – how he had told her he was gay but was still confused himself about it and could she keep it to herself. Which she obviously couldn't.
    I was completely and utterly shocked. Not at Dominic being gay; I couldn't care less if he is or not. I was shocked that he hadn't told me. I like to think I'm his best friend and yet he hadn't said a thing. And then things started slotting into place. The lack of a girlfriend, his penchant for Kylie, his old-fashioned plimsolls, the way he loves to verbally dissect everything and most of all his NICENESS. Yes, all the signs had been blazing and I had failed to see them. That was almost exactly four weeks ago. I remember so precisely because a day later Rob finished with me and things took on a different perspective. There were obviously more immediate issues to think about than Dom being gay. Now everything has settled down again there just never seems to be a good time to talk to him about it – I can hardly say would you mind passing the salt and, by the way, when were you thinking about coming out? over supper. Besides, these things are private and I sort of think that when he is ready to tell me he will.
    As Dom wanders back over to us, fishing in his pockets for his cigarettes, his mobile begins to belt out the Batman theme and he retrieves it from his back pocket. He has one of those flash phones where you can pre-programme the ringtone to indicate who's calling. I, for instance, am Hong Kong Phooey. Which is why I forever regret telling Dom the story about how my necklace got caught in a filing cabinet at work and it took them more than ten minutes to free me.
    'Hello you!' he answers with an air of familiarity. Now I may be downright insensitive to some things but one thing I can spot is atmosphere. And there seems to be a jolly intimate one between Dom and whoever is on the other end of the phone. Besides which, Dominic obviously knows the person well enough to give them their own ring-tone. Jameson and I both prick up our ears; I would like to think it is because he is as interested in Dominic's love life as me but in actual fact it's because Scooby, the pub cat, has just entered the room. I listen intently while ostensibly playing with a beer mat but to no avail. I would challenge Morse, Frost or indeed Poirot to gather anything from the stream of 'Hmm … yes, I think so … hmmm … yeah …' Eventually Dom tells the caller to hang on and then walks outside to continue the conversation in private.
    'Did you hear that, Aunt Winnie?' I ask in a dramatic whisper.
    'Er, what?'
    'That.' I spit the word out emphatically.
    'What?'
    'Dom's conversation with Batman.'
    'There wasn't that much to hear, was there?'
    'I think he's seeing someone.'
    'How on earth can you come to that conclusion from that conversation?' asks Aunt Winnie in genuine puzzlement.
    'Now that I think about it, he's been a bit secretive of late. Keeps ending phone calls when I come into the room and then telling me it was a wrong number.'
    'Why wouldn't he tell you if he was seeing someone? I thought you told each other everything.'
    SMACK! I dramatically punch my fist into my other hand. 'Now THAT, Aunt Win, is the question. Why wouldn't he tell me?'
    'Er, I don't know. I've just asked you that.'
    I open my mouth to confess all my suspicions but close it again when I realise that Dominic probably wouldn't thank me for telling Aunt Winnie before he has even said anything