In English he sounded like a different person, friendly, with no hang-ups. I wished that the shops were open so that I could buy a new shirt. I tried to picture myself sitting at the bar when he came in. I did not know what I should wear. I thought about a tie and then dismissed the idea immediately. Maybe he was going to say that he would be glad if I did not tell his family he was gay. Maybe that is why he had called, and why he was now so eager to meet me. I did not know what was going to happen, but when I turned from the phone I jumped in the air as though I had just won money.

I went down to the bar in the street and had a sandwich and then a cup of coffee. Every thought was rushing. I was sure that my heart was beating faster. I am like a girl, I said to myself and smiled. The barman saw me smiling and he smiled too. I had another coffee and wondered what I would do for the afternoon. I thought suddenly that he might telephone now to cancel everything and I would not be there, and I would end up waiting in the hotel bar for hours. I am really like a girl, I thought again, and once more could not restrain a smile.

He came into the bar at a quarter to seven. I had already had one gin and tonic and was just gesturing to the barman for another when I saw him. His hair had grown longer and his skin was less tanned. He looked straight at me as though there were no one else in the bar. I looked at him and then glanced down. It was too much for me.

“I’m so glad you phoned,” he said. “I’ve been feeling bad about you.”

“I thought you were amazing from the first time I saw you,” I said.

“You’re good at playing the straightest boy in the class,” he said. “I didn’t trust you.”

“Is that why you hit me with the tennis ball?”

“I’m sorry about that too. I was having a very bad time. I had never done anything like that before in my life.”

I ordered him a beer and myself another gin and tonic. We raised the glasses and nodded at each other. I reached over and held his hand and then released it.

“You’d better watch it around here. We’re not in California,” he said.

“Why did you come back?” I asked him.

He shrugged and smiled.

“I don’t know why I came back. Maybe I just missed it. And there were problems.”

Talking with him was like keeping a balloon floating in the air, punching it higher each time it started to come down. I did not want to ask about problems.

“What’s it like at home?”

“Would you like to live there, eat every meal there?”