Changes

Chapter 11

For several hours into the evening, Nick and Tina sat with Ian at his hospital bed, listening and nodding comfortingly as he expressed the frustration of having not been able to tell Geoff how he really felt about him, and the guilt he felt at Geoff's sudden death whilst Ian fled from his attackers. Slowly, a new mood came over the injured man, and one which did not sit easily with his friends.

"He really was the most wonderful man," Ian enthused at one point. "He gave me so much - pride in myself, love and companionship, and then - the greatest gift of all - my life. And he gave up his own life for me!"

Nick fought the urge to protest. He and Tina had been warned by the psychologist to re-inforce Ian's positive images, and to avoid the negatives of his relationship with Geoff. But the thought of the man who had been a criminal, a drug-dealer, achieving hero-status in his mate's eyes was just too much.

"For pete's sake, Ian, he was a crook. He was coming back to Sydney to face charges and a prison sentence!" he burst out.

"Maybe …" Ian looked almost wounded at Nick's outburst. "… but he was coming back - that's the important thing."

"Coming back because he wanted you; wanted all you had to offer," Nick continued.

"Exactly!" Ian's eyes blazed now. "That shows just how big a man he was!"

Nick humphed in exasperation, and Tina spoke up, trying to head off a row between the two, and remembering the words of the counsellor.

"I'm sure he was, Ian. I think Nick just means that although he did all these wonderful things for you, Geoff gained a lot of benefits himself - not the least of which was you."

"Well, he deserved any good that came out of it," Ian declared. "He showed me the way life should be lived, showed me that you can be gay and proud, and not have to hide it!"

"Of course," Tina said, "And I'm glad he did. We all have that to thank him for."

Ian began to sob again as the enormity of Geoff's death once more crashed into his mind. Nick and Tina looked on helplessly, Tina holding Ian's hand as Nick stood beside him with his arm on his friend's shoulder offering unspoken support and sympathy. An uneasy silence descended as the three friends chewed on conflicting opinions and emotions. Afterward, Nick and Tina tried as best they could to keep the conversation bright and flowing, avoiding mention of Geoff as much as possible. From time to time Ian's mood fell again, and many times his eyes moistened as he fought against the hurt inside, rarely smiling or even participating much in the light banter of the other two.

Nick and Tina stayed with Ian as long as they were allowed, being ushered from the room by a nurse well after visiting hours had officially finished. As they walked to their car, they remained quiet, each mulling over the change in Ian's mood and his thinking. It was Nick who spoke first.

"I don't think I like this tip-toeing around Geoff," he said slowly. "It's all very well to want to help Ian recover as quickly as he can, but I hate pretending that Geoff Carruthers was a saint. The man was bad. He hurt Ian, hurt him badly, and I just don't believe he had changed so much that he would be coming back to face the police just because he loved Ian."

"I know, hon," Tina agreed. "But it's early days yet. Remember, Ian's been through the most incredible stress, and it's less than 36 hours since he saw Geoff killed. We just have to be patient, and do what the doctors say."

"Maybe," Nick conceded. "But I can't feel comfortable about it."

"It's the way Ian seems to be putting Geoff on a pedestal that I don't like," Tina added. "It's so hard to speak ill of the dead, and so easy to overlook their faults when someone's not around anymore to repeat them in front of you!"

****

The next day, Nick had to do some running around in the morning, letting his own employer know what was happening, and generally re-arranging his time. It was well after 11.00 by the time he made his way up to Ian's ward, and looked in on his mate again. Ian glanced up as the door opened, and a smile lit his face.

"Hi, Nick," he greeted his mate warmly.

Nick grinned back, surprised and relieved at the improvement in his friend overnight.

"Hi, how are you feeling this morning?"

"Still sore, but a lot better. They say they want to do some corrective work on my shoulder, probably tomorrow, but it will be under local anaesthetic, and only take a short time. And I feel much better in myself!"

"Great!" Nick responded warmly.

"Yep, I've had another long talk with the psych this morning, and brought up a lot of things with her, about me, and Geoff, and being gay." Ian's face momentarily clouded at the mention of Geoff's name, but he recovered speedily. Nick thought that had to be a good sign.

"And I've made some decisions, or resolutions, as well," Ian finished.

"Resolutions?"

"Uh huh. I had a lot of thinking to do, and I kept remembering what Tina said last night about how Geoff wouldn't have wanted me to just give up, but to get out and live. And I know how I'm going to do it!"

"Good …" said Nick warily, unsure of what was coming.

"No more hiding, no more pretending. I'm gay, and that's it. Geoff always said that if someone couldn't handle him being gay then that was their problem, not his, and he was right. From now on, if anyone doesn't like the fact that I'm gay, then tough. They deal with it, or they don't deal with me!"

"Of course, mate, of course," Nick agreed. "If someone can't be your friend because you're gay, then they weren't worth having as a friend at all."

"Friends, associates, business people, whatever!" Ian declared. "I'm gay and proud of it, and everyone is going to know."

Warning bells went off in Nick's head. "If it's relevant, of course!?!" he said, almost as a question. "There are times when a little discretion doesn't hurt. Gay or not, it's how you do your job that matters at work. The fact that you're gay shouldn't have any bearing on it."

"But that's not the point," Ian objected. "If people are going to deal with me, then they have to deal with the real me, not some pretense, some façade. And the real me is gay, so they are gonna have to accept it or find someone else."

"But Ian, you work in a very conservative profession. And your clients don't care what you do in your personal time. Hell, they don't even want to know! All they are interested in is how well you do your job. If you start waving your sexuality in their face you're going to scare them off for no reason!"

Ian looked hurt. "I thought you would understand, I thought you would support me," he said angrily.

"And I will! You're my best friend, and I'll support you no matter what. But I just want you to realise that there are times when being gay isn't an issue. I'm not saying that you should hide it, or deny it, but sometimes announcing it for no good reason may be counter-productive."

Ian looked downcast, and Nick began to panic that he had caused a depression to set in again. "Hey, mate," he said hurriedly, soothingly. "It's up to you. Tina and me, we'll be there for you. We trust you and your instincts, and no matter what anyone says, we'll always back you up! Okay?"

Ian nodded, brightening again, as Nick breathed a silent relief, and buried his worries for the moment. He was even less sure of this new tack than he had felt about Ian's deifying Geoff last night, but he reassured himself that there was plenty of time before either of them had to deal with it in the 'real' world.

Trying to change the subject, Nick spoke again. "I don't want to cause you any worries, mate," he said with a grin, "but if you don't call your folks and let them know where you are soon, there'll be all hell to pay when your mum finds out you've been in hospital and she hasn't been notified!"

"Shit, I know!" Ian swore. "I've been putting it off because I don't know what to tell her, but you're right, I'll have to call her, and soon!"

Together they shared a laugh. Ian's mother could be a formidable person when she wanted, especially if she thought she wasn't being kept informed of important matters concerning her children. As the grins subsided, one of the nurses entered the room and announced that the doctor would be doing his rounds shortly, and that she needed to do an up-date on Ian's observations before he arrived. Nick took the hint, telling Ian he would go outside for a coffee and some air, and come back later, and waving his finger at his mate. "Your mother!" he warned with a smile.

Outside the main entrance, Nick sat heavily on a bench, clutching a cup of awful coffee he had taken from one of the vending machines, and trying to sort out the changes in his friend over the last couple of days. He kept telling himself that it was all part of the mental healing Ian had to get through, but still he felt uneasy about the way the lawyer's mind was working at the moment. He pulled his phone from a pocket, and switched it back on, calling Tina to let her know of the change in Ian, and to share his worries.

Tina told him that she agreed with how Nick felt, but she also made him promise not to worry, and almost convinced him that Ian would revert to his normal self by the time he was discharged. He knew she was saying this more for his own benefit than Ian's but he was grateful for it anyway. He ended the call and was looking suspiciously at the dark liquid in the cup he held, when the phone chirped again, the screen telling him there was a voice mail message waiting.

The message was from Ian's secretary. She had called while Nick was in with Ian earlier in the morning.

Nick called Jill back straight away, on her direct line.

"Hello, Nick, you got my message?" she said brightly enough.

"Yeah, listen; Ian's still in hospital, and probably won't be released for a couple of weeks yet, and then he'll need time to recover at home before he gets back to work. I'll talk to him about getting a formal medical certificate to deliver to the firm."

Nick heard the surprise in Jill's voice. "Oh, I thought it was only something minor, I had no idea he was so badly injured," she said. "Maggie Jones, his supervising partner, has been asking after him …" There was a short silence while Jill thought, then she spoke again. "I know Maggie's going to want to talk to someone about this. Do you mind if I put you through to her now?"

"Unh, okay," Nick said hesitantly. He had heard of Maggie's reputation through Ian, and knew she wouldn't be put off with vague hints or veiled excuses.

"Hello, Mr … Leonidis, is it?" said a woman's voice.

"Yes, that's right."

"You're a friend of Ian Sterling? You called to let us know he's ill at the moment?"

"Yes," said Nick. "He's in hospital after being injured on Sunday. I believe he won't be out of hospital for about two weeks."

"Oh, I see." There was concern in Maggie's voice, and something more. "I had been led to believe he'd suffered some slight injury, nothing that would keep in treatment for so long. Is he able to have visitors?"

"Yes, I think so," Nick said slowly.

"And where is he, please?"

Nick sighed to himself. One more thing for Ian to worry about, but he couldn't avoid it. "Royal Prince Alfred Hospital," he said resignedly.

"Thank you very much," Maggie replied. "I'll try to get over there to see him this afternoon." She finished the call and Nick closed his phone, turning it off as he headed back up to Ian's room.

Back inside, Nick found Ian looking considerably less bright than he had been earlier in the morning. He worried instantly that Ian had been given bad news by the doctors.

"Hey, mate, is everything alright?" he asked quickly.

Ian nodded. "I've just spoken to my parents … managed to convince them that there was no need for them to come to Sydney at the moment, although it took some doing!"

"I'll bet!"

"My mum is going to come down once I'm out of here. I told them I had been in a car accident - I just couldn't bring myself to go into all the details of what really happened over the phone."

Nick grinned. "I understand. Your secret's safe with me."

"You know," Ian said, looking thoughtful. "This telling people I'm gay isn't going to be as easy as I thought it would either. I just couldn't say it to them."

"Well, I hardly think a quick phone call, especially when you're telling them you're in hospital, is the right time," Nick noted.

"Maybe, but I was so determined not to hide it anymore, and I bomb out on the first attempt - and with my parents at that."

"I've never been in your situation, Ian, but I'm guessing that telling your family is going to be harder than telling most other people." Ian nodded agreement, and Nick went on. "You've got another problem as well … your boss, Maggie Jones, is going to come in to see you this afternoon."

"Shit!" said Ian vehemently. "I'd better get her name added to the list of authorised visitors! This is going to be hard enough to explain without having her turned away at the front desk!" He quickly dialled the reception area and gave them Maggie's name as someone who should be allowed in to see him. "I wonder if I'll still have a job when she hears what's happened?" he said aloud.

"Sure you will! It's not like any of this is your fault," Nick tried to reassure him, squeezing Ian's good shoulder with his hand. As one they looked up at a knock on the door, to find the Detective, Michael Sciutta, with a quizzical look on his face.

"Good morning, gentlemen. Is this a bad time?" he asked.

"No, come on in," Ian said. Nick simply nodded a greeting, examining the cop curiously. There was something about the way this guy acted with Ian that just didn't seem 'police-like', but he couldn't put his finger on what the difference was.

"I would like to start going over the information Mr Carruthers gave you, if you're up to it?" Michael said almost apologetically.

"Yes, of course!" Ian said quickly, surprising both Michael and Nick. "I want to help with anything to do with Geoff's case as quickly as I can."

Nick coughed quietly. "I can see this is going to be a drawn out interview," he said. "I'll get going and leave you to it. Ian, I'll see you later this evening, with Tina, okay?"

"Yep, thanks mate!" Ian smiled.

"Don't wear him out!" Nick warned the police officer.

"Of course not, I'll take good care of him!" Michael promised with a grin. Again, Nick's curiosity was aroused, but he said nothing as he made his farewells and left.

"Do you mind if I record our conversation? Makes it easier later on," Michael said easily.

"No, detective, that's fine," replied Ian.

"Please, Mr Sterling, I think we're going to need to spend a bit of time together - call me 'Michael'?"

"Only if you call me Ian!" replied the solicitor with a smile. Michael's heart lifted at seeing the young man grin again. As they began, Michael coaxed Ian through the preliminaries, and slowly worked at getting him to remember all the names and details Geoff had confessed on their drive into Canberra a few days earlier. For almost an hour, the cop made notes and asked questions as Ian listed off all he could remember, occasionally going back to clarify different things he recalled, while the tape recorder whirred silently on the stand between them.

Finally Michael looked up from his writing just as Ian closed his eyes in silent pain at the memory of Geoff being attacked.

"Well, I think it's time for a break," said the detective. "I'm sorry to have gone on so long."

"No, that's okay, I'm fine," Ian lied.

"Still, there's enough here for me to get a good start. And you need your rest if you're going to make a full recovery!" The cop looked hard at the lawyer, seeing sadness mixed with the pain in Ian's face. "Ian, is there anything I can get you? Anything I can do to help?" he asked, quietly and sincerely.

"I don't think so, Michael," Ian replied, lost in his own thoughts and not picking up on the change from professional interest to a more personal tone in Michael's voice.

Michael put the pad down, and turned off the recorder. He leaned forward, his hand resting on Ian's arm. "You will come through this, you know. You're a strong man, and a good one. It will take some time, but everything will be okay …"

Ian looked around and up, not at the detective, but at the door of the room which had just swung open. A woman's voice said quickly, "Oh, I'm sorry to interrupt. I'll come back later!"

As Michael withdrew his hand from Ian at speed, Ian spoke up brightly.

"Maggie! No, come in please!"

The tall woman re-entered, looking a little self-conscious, and trying to hide the bemusement on her face as she looked from Ian to Michael and back to Ian.

"This is my employer, Maggie Jones," Ian said by way of introduction, to Michael.

"And are you Ian's 'friend'?" Maggie asked, placing just the slightest hint of emphasis on the word. "Um, Nick, isn't it?"

Ian laughed quickly as Michael reddened. "No, Maggie," Ian corrected her error. "This is Detective Sciutta - he's investigating some aspects of what happened to me."

Maggie's legal instincts took over quickly, and her expression changed instantly from one of uncertainty to suspicion. "Ian," she remonstrated, "you should know better than to speak to the police without an attorney present! I didn't realise there was anything to investigate, but whatever it is, you're to say nothing more until I get someone from the office down here to represent you!"

Both men looked at her with startled expressions. Her demeanour showed she was ready for a fight.

"Ah, no, you don't understand," Ian sputtered. "He's not investigating me. I'm helping with an investigation into someone else … oh, um, Maggie, I think you'd better have a seat - it's a long story!"

"You still don't speak to the police without professional counsel!" she declared, looking Michael up and down once more.

The detective stood up from his seat awkwardly. "That's okay, Ian. I should get going now anyway. I'll leave you to your visitor, and I'll be in touch again later."

"Okay, talk to you then," Ian agreed as Michael made a hasty exit.

Maggie watched him leave, and then seated herself in the chair he had just vacated. "Alright, young man," she began in a tone of motherly concern mixed with professional interest. "You'd better start at the beginning. I thought you'd been in a simple motor vehicle accident, but I find you in a security area, being interviewed by the police, and a detective no less! What's going on?"

Ian's eyes rolled as he looked at his boss, certain he was about to lose his employment. "Maggie, before I start, there's something about me you should know." He took a deep breath, strengthened his inner resolve, and went on. "I'm gay!"

She looked at him without any trace of reaction, answering quickly. "I suspected as much. Have done for a while. But how does that have anything to do with what's happened?"

Ian sat there, stunned for a moment. "You suspected?"

"It was only that - a suspicion," she answered, her tone softening slightly. "And it makes absolutely no difference to how I feel about you," she added.

Ian took a few seconds to regroup. He hadn't expected this to go quite the way it was. "It all started when I began having a relationship with someone - a client as it happens…" He looked again at her, could tell she was already examining any ramifications.

"Is there any ethical problem, or conflict of interest, arising here?" she asked.

"I don't think so," he answered truthfully. "I had finished the work we were doing for him - a simple purchase of business - when the relationship started. And he pursued me, not the other way around …"

"I'm not surprised!" she said with an easy grin, trying to ease the tension. Ian stopped, thought, and allowed himself a laugh with her. That broke the ice, and slowly, but with growing confidence and ease, Ian went on to tell his story, including the growing relationship with Geoff, the break-up and subsequent questioning, the trip to Melbourne and the terrible return journey. He told her a shortened version of the information he had given Michael about Geoff's 'business' interests, and finished with a drawn out sigh, relief flooding over him that he had told someone the whole story from start to finish.

Maggie looked into her employee's eyes. She had always liked Ian immensely, and now she felt a mixture of concern and sorrow that he had been through so much, and anger that his sexuality had caused him so much grief. She saw now the growing confusion, knew that Ian needed reassurance.

"So, should I resign, or what?" he asked weakly.

She reached out and took his hand in hers. "Ian, did you ever meet my son, David?"

"Ummm, I think maybe once, a couple of years ago …" he was surprised at the question, unsure of where she was leading.

"He is gay. I love him dearly, and I have seen him hurt because of unthinking, bigoted people who just don't want to understand or accept what that means. Being gay isn't something you can change, it's just another part of you. And it makes absolutely no difference whatsoever to how well you do your job. I'm just hurt and angry that being gay can cause so many unnecessary problems for people like you."

Ian's face showed her the gratitude he felt at her statement, and her implied support and acceptance.

"Did you love him; this Geoff?" she asked.

Instantly, the young man's eyes began to moisten, and he fought back tears, only able to nod that he did.

"Then as of now, you are on extended bereavement leave! Your partner has just died and you're entitled to it, just like any other employee. The firm will cover all of your medical costs, and you'll be paid full salary until the doctors say you're completely fit to return to work. I won't have any employee of mine, especially one as good as you, disadvantaged in any way by something over which you had no control."

Ian's mouth fell open, but no sound would issue. He gasped, and tried again. "Thank you!" was all he could manage in a hoarse whisper.

"Rubbish," said Maggie dismissively. "I want you fit and well and back at your desk. We can't afford to lose someone with your intelligence and your ethics." She allowed herself a smile, and went on in a less business-like tone. "Ian, I'll have to let a few people know about your relationship - I want someone looking into all the ramifications of this on your behalf. But don't worry - the vaguest hint of a lack of acceptance of you, and whoever is responsible will wish they'd never met me! Now you get well, okay?"

"I will," he squeaked.

"Good. I'll be back to see you again in a day or so."

"Thank you, Maggie!"

She said nothing, but smiled at him again, and winked in an exaggerated show of complicity, before leaving him to rest. After the events of the day, Ian thought he would be turning everything over in his mind for hours, but instead exhaustion took hold. His body was still recovering the physical wounds, and he fell asleep, resting well into the evening.

****

Michael Sciutta was angry. Angry with himself, and getting more so by the minute. His day had started well enough, businesslike and professional, but from there he had run through a range of emotions from joy to confusion and now this anger, had almost broken one of his own 'cardinal rules', and been brought back to earth with a thud.

His morning had begun with the advice from the prosecutions section that they believed that with the information from Ian Sterling, and the evidence they had already from Geoff Carruthers' apartment, there was a strong possibility they could get convictions against several of Geoff's contacts, and could make a big dent in the organised drug scene in the city. Eager to get moving, Detective Sciutta had sorted his paperwork, and hurried over to the hospital to see Ian Sterling and take a full statement.

The details the young lawyer provided were powerful and convincing, and Michael had a growing feeling of satisfaction as he sensed a result at last from all the months of observing Carruthers. Yet while he sat there, listening intently to Ian's dialogue, asking occasional questions and sorting through the mountain of information, he also experienced a strangely pleasant sense that he was helping the other man. He had at first felt sorrow for Ian Sterling; for the way he had been treated, for the trauma he had undergone; but that had developed as he sat there, listening and taking notes, into more of a feeling of being needed. Ian needed him to get the details out, to justify in some small way Geoff Carruthers' life, and death. And from that Michael found himself admiring the lawyer - his determination, his sense of right and wrong, and his loyalty.

To pretend that Ian sterling was unattractive physically would be futile, but there was more to him than his good looks, and as Michael spent more time with him, the policeman became reluctant to end their meeting. But he could see that Ian was tiring, and the forced remembering of Geoff's last minutes alive had brought tears to his eyes. Michael called a break to their discussions. Despite Ian's protestations, he decided that that was it for the day, in terms of Geoff and all he meant. He could see Ian's face cloud over with a combination of pain and hurt, and he asked if there was anything he could do.

Absently, and distantly, Ian replied "I don't think so, Michael."

Michael felt a sudden welling of pity and hurt on Ian's behalf. He put the pad down, and turned off the recorder. He leaned forward, his hand resting on Ian's arm. "You will come through this, you know. You're a strong man, and a good one. It will take some time, but everything will be okay …"

He wanted to reassure Ian, to go on and tell him that Michael would be there for him if he ever needed help, to offer him friendship, company, perhaps something more, but at that moment the door had swung open and a middle aged woman, whose bearing said she usually got what she wanted, had interrupted them. Michael had been overcome with a sudden sense of guilt, quickly removing his hand from Ian's arm, and sitting back awkwardly.

The woman had been initially friendly, as Ian introduced her as his employer, and had even implied that she thought Michael was Ian's boyfriend, but then had mistaken him for Nick Leonidis. When Ian had corrected her misapprehension, and explained that Michael was a police officer, her entire demeanour had changed instantly. She became cold and dismissive, warning Ian against speaking to Michael unless he was with a lawyer!

Michael had felt confused, and out of place. Hurriedly, he had made his excuses and left. But as he did, he was struck by what the woman had said. Ian was a potential witness and a lawyer. He should have known better than to talk to the police alone! Of course! Why would he want to talk to Michael at all, if not on a professional level? Michael had let his guard down, had started to express some personal feelings for Ian, when there was no reason for it, and no grounds for him to think Ian would have any mind to reciprocate. He was just a cop after all, and should have been just doing his job. How many times had he told himself? Never mix business with pleasure!

That was where his anger had come from, and why it was growing. He was angry with himself for nearly breaking his own rule, and angry with himself for allowing himself to think that someone like Ian Sterling would be at all interested in him. He was just a cop, and would never be any more than just a cop. Venting some of his emotions, he slammed the pad and recorder down onto his desk back at the Police Centre, then gathered the tape up and took it off to transcription services to have a typed copy of the interview prepared. As was his usual way, he wiped the emotions from his brain by immersing himself in his work.

***

The next few days passed quickly, if physically uncomfortably, for Ian. Nick and Tina had turned up later in the evening after his confession to Maggie Jones, and he had told them all about it. Tina had beamed, and Nick smiled happily at the reaction he had received from his employer. The following morning, Ian's follow up surgery had gone well enough, and Nick was there again after he returned to his ward. But at Ian's insistence, Nick had gone back to work. There was little he could do, and Ian was getting the best of care in the hospital, thanks to the combined efforts of Michael Sciutta and Maggie Jones.

Michael had been back a couple of times during that week as well, to clarify one or two things, and just to keep Ian informed of any progress. Yet somehow he seemed different; colder, more 'clinical'. Ian wondered at the change, but dismissed it as unimportant. Perhaps he had still been too emotional that first day when he had poured out all the details to the cop.

Maggie, too, had visited him often, fussing over him like a surrogate mother, and very unlike the detached lawyer she usually was. He was grateful for the attention and acceptance, and her reassurance did much to speed his mental recovery. He had also re-examined his determination to announce his 'gayness' publicly. With the guidance of the counsellor, and the gentle urgings of Nick and Tina, he had realised that there was a time and place for everything. He still insisted he would never again deny or hide his true self, but he also accepted that in some circumstances, it simply wasn't relevant, and therefore not necessary for him to make a show of announcing it.

His mother had been on the phone almost daily, not prying exactly, but pestering him for updates on his recovery as she made plans to travel south from her home in Queensland to oversee his convalescence.

Eventually, just on two weeks after he was admitted, Ian received news from the doctors that he was ready to be discharged, as long as they were satisfied that he would have appropriate care at home, and subject to regular check-ups over the following weeks. He was still beaming at the medic when Michael arrived.

"Hey, Michael, I'm going home!" he declared.

"That's good news," said the detective, even more reserved than usual. Ian raised his eyebrows at the lack of enthusiasm, but said nothing. Michael looked as if he were about to add something when Maggie walked through the door.

"No need to tell me!" she held up her hand, a huge smile on her face. "I've been ensuring the doctors kept me up to date on your condition. I've already arranged for a 24 hour home care service for you, for as long as you need it."

Ian grinned. "They'll have to fight off my mum once she arrives," he said. Maggie chuckled at that, yet Michael remained quiet and unsmiling. Finally he broke his silence.

"Err, Ian, I have some other news," he said haltingly. "I'm not sure how you're going to take it, but I thought you should hear it from me rather than one of my juniors … the coroner has completed his autopsy, and is ready to release Mr Carruthers' body." He stopped, looking intently at Ian's face, knowing this could not help but hurt the young man.

Maggie butted in. "Doesn't - sorry, didn't - he have any family?"

"I don't know," Ian said. "He never mentioned anyone to me."

"As far as we can tell, no!" Michael added. "Our checks reveal that he was an only child, and both of his parents are dead. We can't find any other family at all, so either we leave the whole thing to the Public Trustee's Office as just another bureaucrat's problem, or …" Michael's voice faltered at that moment, unwilling as he was to voice the words.

"Or I take responsibility," Ian sighed, weighed down again by the emotions he felt.

"I thought you might want to. You were the closest person to him!" Michael said softly. "You were his partner, for a while at least, even if that was over …"

"I'll do it," Ian stammered, holding back the sobs. "I owe him that much at least."

"I'll help as much as I can," Michael offered, throwing aside his professional caution to rest his hand on Ian's arm. "I'll sort out the paperwork for you to have the body released - just tell me which funeral parlour you decide on, and we can do it from there for you."

"Thanks," Ian said, clearly grateful for the offer of assistance. "I'll get Nick to help out as well, make it as soon as possible, and very small, very private. I don't want it becoming some kind of circus."

Maggie also offered whatever assistance she could give, although Ian asked her to keep the knowledge of the funeral to only those who needed to know at work. She agreed for his sake, but her eyes gave a different message. Clearly there was something more to this which she was considering carefully. But she said nothing, yet.

****

With Nick's help, and Michael smoothing the way in terms of formalities, four days later a very small memorial service was held at the La Perouse Crematorium. Ian was helped into the chapel by the full-time nurse Maggie had arranged for him, and joined by Nick and Tina, Maggie, and Michael, as a civil celebrant offered vague words of comfort, and then read a eulogy which Ian had written. He had wanted to read it himself, but the effort of simply getting up and out to the cemetery had exhausted him, and Nick and Tina had convinced him that it would be better if someone else spoke the words. He agreed when he accepted that it was unlikely he could get through it without breaking down in tears again.

After the coffin disappeared behind the curtains, Ian was comforted by his four companions, two of whom had never even met Geoff. All of them were there for Ian's benefit, a point which was not lost on him. It saddened him even more to think that Geoff had no family or even friends who could mourn him other than Ian himself.

The little group returned to Ian's home after the service, where Tina played hostess with drinks and refreshments. They were there more to support Ian and to offer him whatever assistance they could, each in their own way, than to remember Geoff. Michael was the first to leave, feeling out of place amongst the others, who could call Ian a friend. He told himself was still nothing more than a cop who had been involved in the whole affair, and he excused himself with a story about needing to get back to work, although in truth he made his way home alone, feeling far more upset than he knew he ought. Ian's tears and hurt seemed to affect him deeply, and he wanted desperately to hide his feelings from the lawyer and his friends.

Maggie stayed a little longer, and also took her leave, after checking that there was nothing she could do. She reasoned that Ian had the professional nurse with him, and even more importantly, his close friends, Nick and Tina. And she had things to do at the office, matters to be looked into that she didn't want to put off any longer.

An hour and a half later, Tina nudged Nick in the ribs, and taking his cue Nick stood slowly.

"Well, Ian, it's about time we were off as well. Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

"Yeah," his mate replied. "I'll be fine, honestly."

"Okay then. Try to get some sleep - you have another big day facing you tomorrow."

Ian winced. His parents were arriving the following day, flying down from Queensland in the afternoon. "I know! I keep telling myself I'm ready for them, but I just don't know how they're going to take hearing the whole story."

"You'll be fine. They are good people, and you know it!" Nick said with conviction. "Their flight gets in at 5.30, so I'll leave work early and meet them at the airport, and bring them here. I'm guessing we should be here by 6.30."

"And I'll come around just before 6.00, so you'll have us here for a while," Tina said. "But we won't stay. I think you should have time alone with them, no matter what you decide to tell them."

Ian nodded his reluctant agreement, and said his good-byes as the couple left. He was determined to 'come out' to his parents, and to tell them the whole story, but he simply could not predict their reaction.

***

"Nick Leonidis! How good to see you again after all these years!"

Nick grinned widely at the enthusiastic greeting and the arms held out by the short, energetic woman who hurried up the ramp and into the arrivals lounge.

"Hello, Mrs S," he said in response, then nodded at the tall, quiet man who accompanied her. "Mr Sterling, how are you?"

"Very well, Nick, thank you."

"It's been so long," Ian's mother stated in a slightly disapproving voice. "I hear you're married - any children on the way?"

"No, not yet," Nick chuckled as he shook himself free from her embrace and led the couple toward the baggage carousels. On the way they made polite small talk and reminisced about the days when Nick and Ian had hung around together as kids. Mrs Sterling chattered almost incessantly while her husband simply stood quietly in the background, listening to everything but saying nothing. They hadn't changed at all from the way Nick remembered them both.

Once their bags were collected, Nick had them wait while he collected the car and loaded their luggage into the boot, then pulled out into the river of vehicles which seemed to never cease around the circle of the domestic airport terminal area. Into the peak hour traffic he ventured, taking his time as they headed for Ian's home.

"So what's that son of mine gone and done to himself, now?" Ian's mother asked as she watched the warehouses and factories near the airport whistle past.

"Well, he was injured pretty badly," Nick offered. "But he seems to be past the worst of it now."

"Must have been some kind of car accident!" she declared.

"Ummm, I'm sure Ian will fill you in on all the details," Nick said cautiously.

Mrs Sterling started to say something more, but a soft cough from her husband silenced her for a second, and she changed topic in an instant.

"So what's wrong with you? Why don't you have any children?" she asked in a jovial tone.

Nick groaned and began to stutter as he tried to find a way out of this one. But he was not unhappy. He enjoyed Ian's parents' company very much, had always liked them and gotten on well with them, and he was sorry that he had lost touch with them for so long after they retired to the sunshine up north.

Finally they pulled up in front of Ian's home.

"Nice place," his mother commented. "Although I don't know that it would be big enough for a family - he'll need to find somewhere else when he gets around to having my grandchildren!"

Nick did his best to hide the grimace he felt. 'Good luck, Ian' he said to himself, as he led them up to the front door.

Tina was there waiting for them, and Nick hurriedly made the introductions. Mr Sterling shook hands politely and smiled a genuine, pleased greeting, while Ian's mum looked Tina up and down approvingly. "Nick's done well for himself!" she stated. "Do you have a sister, young lady, someone who might be interested in meeting my son?"

Tina laughed aloud at the comment, and Ian's mum joined in, although the two women found the comment amusing for different reasons. She held the door wide as they came into the house, and called out to Ian, ushering his parents into the lounge room where he was waiting. With a slightly emotional reunion, Mrs Sterling fighting back tears at seeing her son look so weak, and Mr Sterling offering a concerned, silent ‘hello’, Nick and Tina left the family alone, Tina making coffee and fetching some cakes she had brought for the afternoon, while Nick collected the luggage and carried it upstairs to the guest bedroom.

When the couple rejoined Ian and his parents, the young lawyer was still trying to convince his mother that he was alright, that his recovery was under way. She was determined that he no longer needed the services of the nurse that his employers had provided, but he insisted that professional care was essential to his speedy return to health, and that while his mother and father were there to help, they were also to have a break themselves, and enjoy their visit with him.

After about half an hour of chatting and pleasantries, Nick and Tina took their leave. "You'll want some time to catch up, just the family!" he said, throwing Ian a knowing and sympathetic look.

"Ian, I've made some soup, and a salad," said Tina. "It's not much, but it saves any of you the trouble of preparing a meal for tonight anyway. Mr Sterling, Mrs Sterling, nice to meet you both. I hope we see a lot more of you before you head home."

"Thank you, dear," Ian's mother nodded. As Nick and Tina left, she added loudly, "I think we should have some private time, just the family!" This was said firmly and with a glare at Veronica, the nurse on duty at the moment.

"Mum!" Ian warned.

"That's okay," said the young woman, not taking offence. "I'll take my coffee outside, give you some space," she smiled easily.

"Now, what have you done to yourself?" Ian's mother demanded of him as soon as they were alone.

Ian sighed. "It's a long story, mum. My shoulder and upper arm were pretty badly cut, but the doctors tell me they should heal in time. I'll have scars, even after plastic surgery, but they hopefully won't be too bad. Fortunately, the knife didn't sever any major arteries or veins, although it did chip part of the bone."

"Knife?" his mother said suddenly in alarm. "I thought it was a car accident. What's this about a knife?"

"Unh, I told you it was just an accident because I didn't want you to worry. I'm sorry about that, but I knew you'd be on the first plane down if I said anything different. It's a long story …" His eyes misted a little and his brow creased involuntarily.

"I have plenty of time!" his mother declared with a trace of anger.

"Calm down, Anne!" his father said, speaking for the first time since Nick and Tina had left. "Take your time, son, and tell us what you can."

Ian looked from one to the other. His folks were so different from each other, yet a perfect complement. He loved them both dearly, and wondered just how much he was about to hurt them. With a deep breath, he began.

"It all happened on the way back from Melbourne. I had flown down on the Friday night to catch up with a … friend, and ended up staying until Sunday morning, when my friend and I decided to drive back to Sydney."

"Drive? Why - it's so far …" Anne Sterling asked, but was silenced again by her husband's hand on her arm.

"Geoff - that's my friend - couldn't fly, so we were going to drive back together. On the road he had a phone call from a, erm, business associate, who asked him to call into Canberra on the way back. We went to see this other fellow, and Geoff went inside while I waited in the car …" Ian's voice began to choke, and he stopped, fighting to keep control.

His mother leaned forward, her hand on his good arm. "It's okay, Ian, darling, take your time," she said in a soft tone of concern.

After a few moments of silence, her son continued. "There were people waiting for him, inside the room. They stabbed him, and killed the man he had gone to see. One of them tried to kill me, but Geoff pushed him, and he missed, and that's how my shoulder and arm were cut." Another period of silence followed as Ian battled his emotions, and his parents sat silently, surprise on their faces, waiting for their son to recover.

"They killed him for that," Ian said in no more than a whisper. "Crushed his skull with a table lamp. They chased me, tried to shoot me, but I got away. The police caught them, but Geoff was dead."

He stopped. They knew there was more to the story, but that this was all their son could manage for now. He was close to tears, holding back the flood for his parents' sake, and his body shook with the effort.

Anne Sterling could wait no longer. She moved to her son, wrapping her arms around him, careful not to further hurt his injured arm. "Ian, Ian," she cooed as she held him and her own tears began to flow. His father stood behind them both, his hand comforting on Ian's head, his other arm around his wife's shoulders.

Ian's mother pulled back a little, and looked deep into her son's eyes. "Ian," she said in little more than a whisper, "Is - was - this friend, Geoff, was he …" she fought for the words. "Was he your lover?"

Ian gasped, pushing back from his mother and looking at her with a shocked expression, unable to believe that he had heard correctly. His mouth fell open, then closed again, as his head reeled. He looked up to his father, then back to his mother again.

"Yes!" he said, so quietly he could barely be heard. "How did you know?"

"Oh, my darling, my darling," his mother cried softly. "A mother always knows …"

Richard Sterling broke his silence yet again. "Ian," he said firmly but lovingly. "We've suspected for some time now. You're our son, and we love you more than life itself. Nothing will ever change that. The only thing we want for you is happiness, no matter where or with whom you find it!"

Ian looked from one to the other again, and now he really did begin to sob. Sobs of relief, of joy, of love. He felt overwhelmed, and exhausted. Slowly his crying eased, and his breathing softened, and despite his best intentions, he fell into a sound sleep.

"I suppose the rest of the story will have to wait until tomorrow," his mother commented. His father smiled at her, and gently lifted his son bodily from the sofa, carrying him into his room under the watchful eyes of the nurse. As he placed Ian carefully on his bed, he bent low and kissed him on the forehead.

"I'm so proud of you, my son!" he said quietly to the sleeping man.

To be continued …

Changes

Chapter 12

When Ian woke the next morning, it was at the disturbance of Veronica, his live-in temporary nurse. He shook the sleep slowly from his mind and began to sit up in bed.

"Hey there, you know you're not supposed to do that without help!" she admonished cheerfully.

"Yeah, I know, but I can't lie here all day."

"That's what I'm here for, give me a second and we'll have you out of bed. Your parents are already up and about - they're on the back deck having breakfast. It was all I could do to stop your mum coming up here."

"Sorry about that," Ian said quietly. "I suspect she's going to make both of our lives hell for the time she's here."

"Don't you worry about me," Veronica said with a smile. "I can look after myself, and she only wants what's best for her son. You should be proud and grateful to have such a caring family."

Ian grimaced, remembering his confession to his parents of the previous evening. "I hope so," he said, more to himself than anything.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, I told them some things last night that I don't know how they're going to handle."

The nurse looked down at her charge like a mother hen fussing over her brood. "If you're talking about being gay, then I don't think you have anything to worry about!"

"What? How do you know?"

"I heard your folks talking this morning. Seems that you've simply confirmed what they'd guessed some time ago." She stopped, looking thoughtful, and went on. "Ian, it's probably none of my business, but it seems to me that your parents are fine with your sexuality. If anything they seem relieved that it's out in the open. They really are good people, and you're lucky to have them."

"Thanks, V," he said, letting out a long breath. "I appreciate it."

Half an hour later, Veronica had Ian washed and dressed and downstairs, helping him to a chair beside his mother, then heading for the kitchen to prepare some light breakfast for her patient. Despite her reassurances, Ian faced his parents with a mixture of nervousness and apprehension, unsure of how, or even whether, to rekindle the conversation of last night.

"Hi, Mum, hi Dad," he said weakly.

"Good morning my boy," his father smiled.

"How did you sleep, darling?" asked his mother quickly.

"Fine, fine," he said. "I'm sorry if I crashed out on you, but I was exhausted."

"Very understandable," his mother opined sagely. "It's we who should be saying sorry, for keeping you up, and for putting you through the ordeal of reliving the whole story."

"No," Ian said quickly. "It had to be told. I wasn't keeping it from you for any reason other than to have you not worry when you were so far away. But I did want you to know the truth - the whole truth - as soon as I could speak to you both, face to face."

The young lawyer looked from his father to his mother and back again, trying to read their thoughts. He drew a long breath and unintentionally lowered his eyes.

"Mum, Dad, I'm gay. I know we covered that last night, but I had to say it, to say the words to you out loud." His mother began to speak, but Ian held up his hand, silencing her. "Please, let me get this out. I'm gay! It's not something I chose, it's not something I even wanted to admit to myself for a long while, but it's the truth and I can't change it. I hid it from you, from my friends, from myself for a long, long while, and hiding it hurt like hell, but I couldn't bring myself to face the reality until I met Geoff.

"He showed me that being gay isn't something you have to hide; that it isn’t something to be ashamed of. After he was killed I promised myself that I would stop all the pretending, and that if people couldn't accept me for who and what I am, then that was their problem and not mine, but I wasn't going to change or pretend for them." He stopped for a moment, and looked up again, directly at each of them. "I love you both, and I hate the thought that I might be hurting you or disappointing you, but I want you to know the real me." With that, he slumped lower in his chair, a look of imploring on his face as he waited for their reaction.

A long moment of silence ensued, remarkable in itself for anyone who knew Ian's mother. Anne Sterling looked long and hard at her son before glancing sideways for confirmation from her husband, who squeezed her hand in acknowledgment. She cleared her throat and reached for Ian's hand, holding it tightly in her own.

"Ian," she said softly, sincerely. "I doubt that you could ever do anything to hurt us or disappoint us so badly that we would abandon you. We have suspected that you were gay, even known it deep down, if we're being honest, for a long time. But despite what you may think, we don't live in the dark ages. We know that being gay is not something you choose, not something you can control. It's what you are, and we love you. Yes, I'm disappointed - disappointed from a selfish point of view that you won't be giving me grandchildren; disappointed for you, that you won't know the joy and the pain of bringing up children. And I'm hurt too, hurt that you felt you couldn't tell us before, that you had to go through so much pain alone, without our support or our help. Disappointed that we never met the man you fell in love with, and hurt because you are hurting so badly from what has happened."

She sat forward, so that she was holding hands with both of her men, and went on.

"I'm proud of you, Ian. Not because you're gay - that just happened, so you can't take any credit for it …"

Ian permitted himself the slightest of smiles.

" … but I'm proud of you because of who you are now, who you have become. You are successful, mature, and honest; and I am so happy to be able to call you my son, and to be able to share your life, all of your life, with you."

Before the young man could respond, his father now spoke, another unusual occurrence in the Sterling family.

"Ian, I won't pretend to you that I would have preferred it if you were not gay. But that isn't because I don't love you, or because I think being gay is wrong. The only reason I would have you any other way is because, despite the advances our society has made in recent years, I know that gay people still suffer, are still marginalised and treated differently, and hurt as a result. I hate the thought that my son will be disadvantaged in any way simply because of who he is. As I understand it, the current theory is that being gay is a genetic disposition, which means that you have your mother and I to thank, or to blame depending on your point of view, for the way that you are."

With that comment he allowed himself a chuckle, and Ian and his mother joined in, breaking the seriousness of the moment to some extent. But Richard wasn't finished yet.

"My son, if there was, if there is, anything I could do to help you avoid the hurt and the pain you will know, I want you to let me know and I will do what I can. All I want for you is to be happy, to find yourself and be proud of what you find." He moved forward, wrapping his arms around his son's shoulders and holding the younger man tightly. "I love you, Ian," he whispered quietly.

Ian's eyes filled with tears. He hugged his father back, and with some discomfort which he ignored, he spread his arms to include his mother as well. "I love you both, so much I can't tell you!" he said.

***************

Over the next two weeks, Ian and his parents mended some bridges, and shared many hopes and dreams as they got to know each other all over again. He recounted for them the whole story of his relationship with Geoff, the police involvement and flight, the trip to Melbourne and the awful detour into Canberra on the way back, with its tragic consequences. His physical wounds healed remarkably quickly, and before long he was able, with the doctors' blessing, to forego the need for a nurse to be with him except for a daily visit to check on him. The young lawyer felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders as he was able to truly relax and speak his mind with his family for the first time in years.

Nick and Tina were also constant visitors to the house during that time, enduring light-hearted jibes about helping Ian to deceive his folks, and generally keeping the tone upbeat and bright. Nick managed to renew his acquaintance with Ian's parents, and Tina very quickly became a close friend and adopted daughter to Mr and Mrs Sterling, earning their affection and respect for her level head and down-to-earth nature, and her obvious admiration and love for their son. She had a number of private conversations, especially with Ian's mother and out of ear-shot of Ian himself, along the lines of trying to find ways to match Ian up with a suitable man, someone to take his mind off Geoff Carruthers; someone to give him the love and companionship he so desperately needed.

Maggie, Ian's employer, also called in at one stage, and was introduced to his parents. She spent some time that morning getting to know them, and left feeling much better about Ian's circumstances generally. She made sure she had Anne and Richard Sterling's contact numbers for future reference, and assured them that Ian's position was secure - that his being gay was completely irrelevant to his work.

When the time finally came for the elder Sterlings to return home, both they and Ian were sad at the parting, but feeling much better about the renewed relationship between son and parents. Neither Ian nor his parents had ever felt so close to each other as they did now, and Ian vowed that he would not let any gap grow again between himself and his mother and father. For her part, Anne Sterling had quietly enlisted a spy, in the form of Tina, as an added precaution to ensure that she was kept fully abreast of Ian's life and any problems.

They made their farewells at Ian's home, rather than the airport, with a taxi waiting outside.

"Mum, Dad," Ian said as he held them both in his arms. "I just want to say 'thank you', for being so understanding and so accepting. I don't know what I would have done if you'd rejected me."

"It's us who should be saying thanks," his mother replied. "Thank you for letting us into your life, for sharing yourself with us again. Too many children shut their parents out, and both sides end up the poorer for that!"

"I love you!" said Ian with misty eyes.

"I love you too, darling," his mother stammered.

Richard looked at his son with a smile on his face. "I'm proud of you, Ian," he said. "And I love you!"

"I'll call you as soon as we're home," his mother promised.

****************************************************************************

Over the next month and a half, Ian steadily improved, needing to be visited by the nurse less and less frequently. Nick and Tina conspired with a number of mutual friends to visit him as often as possible, to keep his mind off Geoff, and to keep him focussed on getting well. Maggie called in several times, ostensibly to seek his advice or assistance on various matters, but in fact to check up on him. And Michael Sciutta also stopped by a couple of times, clarifying certain points and checking the information that Ian had given him concerning Geoff's business contacts, as well as acting as a go between for his federal colleagues who were preparing the case against the men who had killed Geoff and wounded Ian, readying it for hearing in Canberra.

But even with the constant flow of people, Ian soon became restless. He was stuck at home most of the time with little to do. He began to pester the doctors he saw regularly, insisting he was well enough to return to work, and finally they agreed, specifying that he only engage in light duties, but conceding that he could start spending time in the office once again.

Ian rang Maggie with the news, eager to get back to his desk as soon as possible.

"Maggie, I don't know if you have the official confirmation yet, but I've been cleared to come back to work, so I'll be in first thing tomorrow," he said enthusiastically.

"You'll do no such thing!" she declared. "I do indeed have the medical reports, and they state ‘light work only’. Since today is Wednesday, I don't want you in here until Monday, and even then it will only be for a half day. After that we'll see how you go!"

"But …" he began to protest.

"That's my best offer, Ian!" she said forcefully. "Take it or leave it."

"Oh … okay," he said resignedly, cursing her silently for what he saw as undue caution. "I'll see you Monday morning then."

"And not too early either!" she added as she rang off.

***************

Despite his determination to get back to 'normal' as soon as possible, Ian didn't get into his office until after 9.00 on that Monday morning. He suspected, quite rightly, that Maggie would be furious if he disobeyed her and showed up early, and at the last minute, whilst he was dressing that morning, he had an attack of nerves at going back. It would be the first time in months that he had seen many of his work colleagues, and suddenly he began to wonder just what stories had been circulating in that nursery of gossip known as the secretarial pool about his absence.

So it was with a little apprehension that he arrived, and looked nervously out of the elevator doors as they opened to the familiar sign of "Armstrong and Sorensen, Solicitors". Karen the receptionist was seated at her usual place, all smiles and politeness as ever.

"Good morning, Karen," Ian said, feeling self conscious.

"Good morning, Mr Sterling," she replied breezily, as if he hadn't been away, then added, almost as an after-thought, "Welcome back."

"Thanks!" Ian breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe this wasn't going to be as difficult as he'd imagined. He made it to his own office with only a few nodded smiles to several people, and without the need to enter into any real conversation. Almost before he could drop his briefcase onto the desk or shrug off his jacket however, Jill, his secretary was at the door.

"Welcome back, Mr Sterling," she said with a smile. "It's great to see you on deck again."

"Jill," Ian admonished, "What's this 'Mr Sterling' business. Please, call me 'Ian'."

Her smile widened. "Sure thing, boss!" she laughed, and he joined her. "But really, Ian, it's so good to have you back. How are you feeling?"

"Fine, honestly! In fact, I've been going out of my mind with boredom for weeks. I could have been back at work ages ago but for the over-zealous caution of the 'powers-that-be'. You know what doctors are like - always so careful."

"One of those 'powers-that-be' is only following those same doctors' orders, and so should you," said a familiar voice from behind Jill's back. The secretary stepped back quickly to reveal Maggie Jones with a fake but determined frown on her face.

"Oh, Ms Jones, I'm sorry … I didn't realise you were there," Jill said quickly.

"That's alright Jill," Maggie said reassuringly. "I just want a quick word with our Mr Sterling, then you can catch up on things with him when I'm finished," she smiled.

Jill excused herself, pulling the door closed behind her and leaving Maggie and Ian alone.

"You're quick off the mark!" Ian declared.

"I left specific instructions with Karen to notify me the moment you arrived," she confided. "Ian, I thought you'd like to know what the situation is here with regard to your absence. Officially, you've been on extended sick leave and bereavement leave in accordance with your entitlements, just like any other employee." She allowed herself a knowing smile before she went on. "Unofficially, the gossip is that you were on a weekend trip to Canberra when a client called you for help because he had your number in his phone. You arrived in time to witness his murder, and were attacked and then chased before managing to contact the police and have your attackers arrested. I understand you're something of a hero!"

Ian winced. "But that's not the full story, and I'm no hero …" he said uncomfortably.

"I know, but that's what is being said. It's up to you who you tell the full story to; what you correct and what you choose to leave out. Jim Rogers knows the whole story, and is keeping an eye on the police case, and ready to help you if you need it."

Ian nodded. Jim was a good friend, and specialised in criminal law. "Anyone else?"

"Jill," Maggie answered with a single word. To Ian's look of surprise, she added, "She was the first one to be told about what had happened. She took the initial call from Nick, and she's a damn fine woman, Ian. I think you can trust her with just about anything."

He smiled. "Okay, I'll take your word for it."

"And Dave Johnson knows the full story as well," Maggie added breezily.

"Dave?" Ian looked startled. "But Dave works in Probate and Estates," he said uncomprehendingly.

"That's right! There are a few matters you need to consider. I have some things to do now, so take your time getting back into it, and don't let Jill give you too much to do first up. I have scheduled a meeting for us - you, me and Dave Johnson, in my office at 12.30. He and I will explain more to you then, okay?"

"Unh, okay," Ian agreed, puzzling over this new development, as Maggie walked out and left him sitting there in confusion. He was still in the same position when Jill's reappearance brought him back to reality. She was holding out a cup of steaming coffee to him.

"You okay?" she asked with genuine concern.

"Yeah," he nodded vaguely, shaking himself back to attention. "Sorry, Jill, just lost in thought."

"Well, on specific instructions from above, I have managed to rescue two files which should rightfully be yours," his secretary bristled, business-like. "I doubt they'll keep you busy for more than an hour at most, but that's all you're allowed for the time being."

Ian grimaced and took the sheaves of paper from her. "I'm not an invalid," he muttered, half to himself.

"I know, Ian, but you've been through a hell of a time, so you need to ease back into things," Jill answered.

He looked at her thoughtfully, remembering what Maggie had said. "Jill, come in and close the door, please."

She nodded silently, surprised at this unusual request, but did as asked. Ian motioned her to a seat opposite him and looked at her enigmatically as she settled herself.

"What are people saying about me, really?" he asked.

Jill coughed a little at the directness of the question. "Most of them are simply saying you were injured when you got caught up in a row between a client and some crims. That's the official line, and the majority are buying it."

"But not everyone?"

"Well … there are a few who think there's more to it than that. I even heard one fool theorising that you were crooked yourself, that you got stabbed in some deal that went wrong, but no-one else believes that."

He looked at her again, taking his time as he sorted out his questions. "Jill, I know you know the whole story - Maggie told me."

She nodded again, unsure of where he was leading.

"I'm gay."

His secretary reddened slightly, beginning a feeble protest. "Ian, I …"

Ian interrupted her quickly. "There are going to be a few changes around here," he said. "I'm gay, and I'm not going to pretend otherwise anymore. But I need to know how you feel about that, honestly."

"Um, how I feel about the fact that there are going to be changes?" she asked, still a little confused.

"No, how you feel about me being gay. Are you upset, surprised, disgusted?"

Once more Jill flushed quickly before she looked him directly in the eyes. "Of course I'm not disgusted! Or upset, except maybe a little that I didn't realise earlier, and that I have probably been just as guilty as anyone of assuming otherwise, and trying to push you into relationships you weren't interested in. Surprised? Yes, maybe a little at first, although with hindsight it all makes sense, and I should have seen it before. You just never let anything personal show, Ian. You were hardly the hand-bag toting effeminate stereotype."

He laughed at that, then became serious again. "No, and I never will be. But that's not all there is to being gay."

"I know that, boss. And if you want to keep your personal life secret then I respect that. But people gossip - they always have and always will. And it's the nature of us that we like to see others we admire happy. That's all I ever tried to do when I suggested women you might like to date."

"Things are going to change," Ian re-affirmed. "I don't want the intricacies of my private life becoming the topic of conversation around the water-cooler, but I'm not going to hide who I am anymore either. If someone asks, I'll tell them."

"And if someone asks me?" Jill pressed him.

"You can either plead ignorance and tell them to ask me directly, or use your judgment. If my being gay is relevant, then there's no reason for you to lie or to refuse to tell them, although I can't imagine why it would be relevant to anyone around here."

His secretary had a mischievous look in her eye when she answered. "How about if the one who is asking is good looking, rich, and wants to ask you out on a date?" she said with a laugh.

Ian smiled back at her. "Somehow I don't think I'll be in the dating mood for some time," he said sadly.

"Oh, Ian, I'm sorry."

"No need. Thanks for the suggestion, but I'm just not ready for that yet. Now, I'd better get some real work done, okay?"

"You're the boss," she said as she stood to leave.

"Yeah, I wonder," he chuckled.

******

The work that Jill had given him, allocated by Maggie, taxed him very little, and Ian was pretty well finished with it in just over an hour and a half. He finished up with dictating some notes and was just about to start looking for something else to do when Jill appeared at his door again.

"Just reminding you that you have a meeting scheduled with Ms Jones and Mr Johnson in Ms Jones' office shortly," she said.

"Oh yes, that's right. Do you know what it's about?" he asked.

"No idea. Maggie Jones' secretary rang me on Friday afternoon and told me to schedule it for you."

"Okay, thanks Jill."

Ian wandered casually around to Maggie's office, wondering why one of the solicitors who practised almost exclusively in the area of deceased estates would be meeting with him, and why Maggie had felt it necessary to divulge all of Ian's details to him. It wasn't that he was upset that Dave Johnson would know - Ian got along well enough with Dave. It was simply that Ian couldn't make the connection between Dave's work and his problems.

He didn't have to wait too long to find out. Almost as soon as the three of them were seated around a large table in Maggie's office, she began.

"Ian, first of all, you're here as a client and not as a lawyer or an employee. So you ask the things a client asks, and you'll be treated that way. We won't be asking for any upfront contribution to fees, but if you go ahead Dave will be charging you at the normal rate as if you were any other client, costs payable at the completion of the matter."

"What matter?" Ian asked, even more confused.

"The Estate of Geoffrey Carruthers," David Johnson announced, as if it were obvious.

"What? I don't have anything to do with Geoff's Estate," Ian protested.

Dave looked at Maggie with surprise, but she nodded easily at him and turned to Ian.

"Yes you do. At the time of his death you were his partner …"

"Ex partner," Ian interrupted, but Maggie ignored him.

"You were his partner, and you have been nominated as such on all of the autopsy and coroner's reports, as well as on the Federal Police file concerning his death. That was why they released his body to you for burial. Inquiries by both the police and by our own private investigators show that there are no living relatives or other possible claimants to his Estate. He had no siblings, no children, and both of his parents are dead. He made no Will that we have been able to discover, which means he died intestate." She looked at Ian carefully, watching for any signs of distress. She knew how hard it must be for him to have this all brought up again.

"Ian, that means that unless you apply to be appointed Administrator of his Estate, the Public Trustee will do so, and all of his assets will be forfeit to the State." Maggie stopped there and waited for some reaction.

Ian sat quietly in the chair opposite her, his thoughts churning around inside his head. He didn't want any of Geoff's assets, but to have the bureaucrats deal with everything so coldly as they would, and to swallow up everything he had into State Government coffers upset him too. Finally he spoke up.

"But I was no more than his … uh, boyfriend, for a short while," he said, blushing at the admission despite his resolve to be more open about his sexuality.

Dave Johnson now took up the explanation. "You and he lived together up until the time he left Sydney, and he did that because he was on the run from the police. So strictly speaking he did not actually break up the relationship at that time. And you were with him at the time he died, returning with him to Sydney as I understand it?"

Ian started to open his mouth but Maggie jumped in. "Ian, don't say anything yet. Let Dave finish before you make any comment. I may have some suspicions about what you're thinking, but there's a lot to consider here, and a very fine line to tread."

Chastised but silent, Ian nodded for Dave to continue.

"Because there is no-one else who would make any claim on the Estate, all you need do is sign a declaration that at the time of his death, you and he were in a de facto relationship."

"But a homosexual relationship?" Ian asked, unable to hold his tongue.

Dave looked surprised, and Maggie tutted gently. "Ian, you haven't been keeping up to date with the changes to the Probate statutes! The relevant laws were changed in New South Wales quite some time ago now, to include same-sex couples in the definition of 'de facto relationships' for the purposes of Estates and Probate."

"Which means that as the de facto partner of an intestate person, you are automatically entitled to the vast majority of his Estate. All of it, in fact, if there are no other possible beneficiaries," Dave added.

"I'm not after his money. I never was!" Ian said softly, sadly.

"No, but do you want the government to get it?" asked Maggie.

"How much are we talking about?" Ian asked.

"Well, that's a little unclear just yet," Dave said. "I've made some enquiries with the New South Wales Police, and as I suspected they will be making a claim against some assets under the Proceeds of Crime legislation. But it would appear that such a claim will be limited to funds held in company names for which Mr Carruthers was the sole shareholder, and where there is no feasible explanation for those funds having been acquired by legitimate means. How far they get with that I'm not sure - it's outside my area of expertise." Dave stopped a moment while he checked the papers in front of him again. "But leaving those amounts aside, the funds in accounts which could reasonably have come from his legal investments, together with the real estate properties he owned and various other assets which the police don't seem interested in, add up to a total of … just under nine million dollars!"

Ian's jaw dropped. He looked from Dave to Maggie and back to Dave again. "I had no idea," he said, when finally he could speak again.

"There's another two million dollars or so which the police will be claiming as I mentioned," Dave added.

"I wouldn't challenge that!" Ian declared immediately.

"Then you'll do it?" Maggie asked.

"I don't know," Ian said. "I'll have to think about it."

"Don't wait too long," Maggie warned. "The police need an Administrator appointed in order to make their claim against the Estate, so if you don't do it soon, the Public Trustee's Office will."

*******

Ian sat in his kitchen, perched at the bench and looking out of the glass doors into his yard, but he wasn't seeing his garden at all. He had excused himself from the meeting and gone home early in a daze. Nine million dollars! Geoff's legacy to him? Or blood money?

He didn't know what to do. He was lost and alone all over again. Somewhere deep inside he heard a voice - his own voice - declaring that he wouldn't let things get the better of him ever again, that he would share his life and his feelings with his friends. Almost absently, he dialled Nick's number and Tina answered.

"Hi, Ian," she said brightly. "You're lucky you caught me. I'm usually not home yet, but I had some things to do, and finished early, so here I am."

"Uh, that's great, Tina," Ian answered uncomprehendingly. "I was wondering if you guys were doing anything this evening?"

"No, I don't think so. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, but I could really use a chat, talk something through with you, and I don't seem to have the energy to get up and out."

"Of course," Tina responded quickly, sensing the confusion in Ian's voice, and trying to disguise her own concern. "I'll come over straight away. I'll ring Nick at work and tell him to go directly to your place instead of coming home, okay?"

"Yeah, thanks," Ian said softly before hanging up again without any further comment.

Tina was on his doorstep in less than fifteen minutes. In that short interval, Ian had gathered himself together to some extent, and even had the foresight to ready coffee for his visitors. When he opened the door to her, Tina looked him up and down carefully, and breathed a silent sigh of relief to herself. He didn't appear to be as upset or in trouble as she had suspected.

Nick had left work as soon as he got Tina's call, and was no more than five minutes behind her, so that he arrived before she and Ian had completed the usual pleasantries, or sat down to their drinks. Ian poured a coffee for his friend as well, and the three of them settled onto comfortable chairs, Nick and Tina looking expectantly at the young lawyer.

"I need your advice," he began as he drew their attention. "Geoff has left me in yet another difficult position and I want to know what you think."

Intrigued, the couple pressed him to go on. Ian quickly explained what Maggie and Dave had put to him about his possible claim to Geoff's estate, the ease with which it could be done, and the need for a little exaggeration or bending of the truth to state that he and Geoff were partners when he died. He finished with a tired "I don't know whether to make the claim or not."

Tina looked at him, hard. "It seems to me," she said at length, "that although you may not have been partners at that time, strictly speaking, you have certainly been acting like his partner ever since, and beforehand too. You've gone through all the grieving and worry, all the hassles and hurts, just as if you were his partner, so there's no real lie in saying you were."

"But I had finished with him," Ian argued. "I had told him we were through, that I wouldn't be seeing him again after we got back to Sydney."

"Maybe, but things may have changed," Tina said. "On the other hand, making this application means putting yourself through the whole rigmarole again. Maybe it's better if you just walk away and forget it, for your own good."

Ian was torn. "But then all of his things, all of his money and property, just goes to the government. There's nothing left of him at all. It's all just swallowed up."

"How much are we talking about?" Nick asked at last. Ian hadn't mentioned any figures to them yet. Tina's ears pricked up at that - it hadn't occurred to her to ask for specific amounts.

Ian looked from one to the other, and in a very small voice, so quiet they could barely hear, he said, "Nine Million!"

"Holy shit!" Nick whistled.

"Oh, Ian …" Tina said, her eyes widening in disbelief.

The three sat in silence then and looked blankly at each other as the ramifications sank in for all of them.

"I think you should take it," Nick said at last. "Call it 'compensation' for what he put you through. Besides, the last thing you want is to just hand it over to the government."

Tina nodded. "Yes, I think you should take it, too. But use it to make amends, to make Geoff's life mean something - donate it to a charity in his name or something like that."

Ian looked from one to the other, digesting their words. After a long silence, he smiled just a little. "You're right! I think I will do something like that."

********

The following day Ian called around to Maggie Jones' office first thing in the morning, and was shown in without any questions from her secretary.

"Maggie, I've notified Dave Johnson already," he said with a smile. "I'm going ahead with the application to be appointed Administrator of Geoff Carruthers' Estate."

"Excellent, Ian," she beamed. "I think it's the right thing to do, from several perspectives. And I won't lie to you that the fees we'll collect from an Estate of that size will look very nice in my ledger as well!"

He grinned widely at that. "Then, I hope you'll be happy to hear that I want to engage the Firm's services in another matter as well, once the Estate goes through."

"Oh?" she said, raising one eyebrow in curiosity. "Please sit down, 'Mr Sterling', and tell me how we can help."

"I'd like advice and guidance in setting up a charitable foundation …" Ian began.

****

An hour later, Ian Sterling had finished being a client, and was returning to his office to become a lawyer again, since that was what he was paid for. After his meeting with Maggie Jones he was feeling very good about himself and the world, and he whistled softly as he made his way through the building. A quick stop at the firm's in-house library to collect some research on a matter he was looking at, and then the rest of the morning could be given over to finally getting back into some real work.

Standing between the shelves of legal volumes and commentative articles, Ian was flicking slowly through the pages of a loose-leaf service when the sound of voices drifted across to him. Two young men were talking in one corner of the room, out of sight from where he stood.

" … and I said to him 'why don't you just fuck off back to Oxford Street with your poofter mates, and leave the rest of us normal guys alone?'," said one voice.

"Bloody typical," replied the other. "It's bad enough that the queers have their own bars and stuff. But it makes me wanna heave when they start hangin' around pubs where real people go to drink. They're just out to get you, you know. Turn you into one of them!"

"Shit yeah," agreed the first speaker. "And christ only knows what you can catch from 'em. AIDS and all that other stuff!"

"Yep. They should all be locked up together, away from society."

Ian felt the flush of blood in his face, and a tightness in his chest. He reached one hand out to steady himself against the stacks as he listened with disgust. His first reaction was to get out of there, to hide and hope the feelings of shame and embarrassment would go away. But his new-found pride in himself, and his resolve to change things began to surface, and the fear was quickly replaced with anger. Gripping the book he had been reading tightly in one hand, he stepped out from the aisle where he was standing to see who these two were. Both of them young men, one he recognised as McManus, a research assistant. The other was unfamiliar to him.

"You two!" he said in a voice filled with icy anger.

"Oh, yes Mr Sterling?" answered McManus, looking up innocently and smiling.

Forcing himself to remain calm, Ian looked at them and realised neither of them were aware they had done anything wrong. "I want both of you in my office in 15 minutes, do you understand?"

"Err, yes Sir," McManus answered, perplexed by the unusual request.

Ian turned on his heel and went to his room, where he took a few minutes to relax and settle down as he waited for the young men to show up. He alerted Jill that he was expecting them, and asked her to come into his office with them when they arrived.

A soft, polite knock at his door announced the arrival of the young men. Jill led them into Ian's office while Ian remained seated. "Mr McManus and Mr Dickson to see you, Mr Sterling," she said in her most officious tone, before moving to stand to one side of his desk. Ian looked up at them and sat back in his chair, but did not offer them a seat at all.

"Mr McManus, I am familiar with you, but Mr Dickson, I don't seem to know you. What is your position in this Firm?" he asked quietly.

"Um, I'm a law student, Sir," answered the now nervous young man. "I work here two days a week as a research assistant. Only started last month, while you were away."

"I see." Ian looked sideways to his secretary and gave Jill a wink the boys could not see. "I was unfortunate enough to be in the library earlier, and to overhear your conversation. To say I was disappointed and angry that employees of this firm would speak in such terms is an understatement. Disgusted is a word which springs to mind."

"Mr Sterling, I …" began McManus, but Ian silenced him.

"Do not compound your mistake, Mr McManus," he warned. "I am trying to be fair and reasonable about this. Given your positions here, I think some research by both of you is appropriate. Mr McManus, I want you to prepare for me a detailed analysis and summary of the Anti-vilification laws, specifically with regard to the issue of homosexuality. And Mr Dickson, since you are studying law, you might like to give me a fully researched and notated precis on the defamation laws in this State, PLUS an opinion on the effect of a conviction under the Anti-vilification laws that your friend is researching, where the convicted person is applying for admission to practise law."

Both men stood there speechless. Jill did her best to suppress a smile of satisfaction. Ian went on. "Of course I expect these things to be done in your own time, and to be on my desk within 48 hours." Ian finished.

Finally the student, Dickson, found his tongue. "But Mr Sterling, Sir, we were only talking amongst ourselves, and it was just a discussion about gays!" He spat out the word 'gays' as if it had a bad taste.

Ian contained his fury as best he could. "Firstly, Mr Dickson, in my opinion, your discussion amounted to both vilification of homosexual men, and defamation of one in particular, although I will be interested to read your submissions in two days time. Secondly, this 'assignment' of mine is in lieu of my reporting both of you and your conversation to personnel or to any of the partners - but my secretary is here as a witness to this conversation should that become necessary. And thirdly, gentlemen, I am gay, and more than offended by what you had to say. Now get out of my office. I will expect your reports early Thursday morning, failing which I shall be seeing one of the partners to discuss proper disciplinary action."

Summarily dismissed, the two boys quickly took their leave, and once they were gone, Ian leaned back again, letting out a long breath. Jill stuck her head back in again.

"You want me to minute all of that, boss?" she asked.

"Absolutely, Jill. Every word." He looked up at her again with a concerned expression. "I wasn't too hard on them was I?"

"No way!" she declared with vehemence. "They got off lightly. I'll get someone to keep an eye on them, make sure they do the research in their own time like you said, as well."

"Thanks, Jill."

"You know that they will spread the word like wildfire that you're gay?"

"Uh huh," he nodded. "But I think this was one of those relevant situations we were discussing."

To be continued …