Jareth Gublenn , an Affair with his Brother's Wife (Short story)

Early in the morning, in the privacy of Cole’s bedroom, the hairs of a bristled red mustache tickled the sensitive skin of his sleek neck. Cole smiled and raised his shoulder, shifting away from the intruder. Nigel’s arm wrapped around Cole’s nude waist to pull him close, pressing little pecks up his neck to his ear. Trickled trailed up Cole’s spine, and his body shivered.

Cole turned his head away.

“Honestly, Nigel,” he said and rolled Nigel off of his shoulder.

“Mornin,” Nigel replied, his voice groggy. He attempted another kiss but Cole scoffed and pressed him away with his elbow.

After a period of silence, the red head pinched Cole’s sensitive skin on his ribs, and Cole yelped. He grabbed Nigels wrist and shot a glare back at him, but received a short peck on the lips rather than an apology. Cole’s face flushed, and he cleared his throat.

“Give me ten seconds,” Nigel said,

“Nigel-”

“Cmon…”

Cole let out a very long sigh through his nose, and shifted in the bed. He turned himself to look up at Nigel, his head still on the pillow. For ten seconds, Nigel stared at Cole and Cole stared at Nigel.

Cole studied Nigel’s face. The creases of age beside his eyes, his hooked nose, auburn lashes, and a black-head on his chin. His bottom lip was still stained red. He wondered if he looked tired, or if his morning stubble was noticeable. Perhaps he had a crum of crust in the corner of his eye. His ears, neck, and face became warm and his stache began to bristle.

The heater whirred, a bird chirped outside, and Nigel breathed deep and slow through his nose.

Cole looked away.

“Ah- come back,” Nigel said.

“Nigel,”

“Just ten, Cole,”

“God sakes…”

Cole shifted and sat up while holding the covers to his chest. For ten uninterrupted seconds, the two men stared at one another. Cole then cleared his throat.

When it was finished, Nigel leaned in to press a slow kiss against Cole’s lips. Their staches bristled together, irritating Cole’s upper lip, and Cole did not close his eyes like Nigel did. When Nigel finished, he layed back with his arm behind his head, grinning at Cole with that god awful gleam in his eyes. His chest was very exposed, and Cole looked away.

“What’ll I be making you for breakfast?”

“There’s really no need for that.”

Cole shifted, sitting on the edge of the bed with the base of his feet on the floor. He reached down for his button up shirt that he had abandoned the night before.

“Oh, is that right? You’ll be sent angry today if you go without something to eat. I’ve seen it, Cole.”

“I’ll be quite alright, Nigel. I’ll have us something made at Jareth’s…”

“Wouldn’t be as private.”

“No, it wouldn’t.”

Cole only stood after buttoning each button from his throat to his groin, then bent down to slip on his silk night pants. Still wearing his watch, he squinted at it.

The telephone that Cole kept beside the bed rang out, shrill and frantic. A distant ringing from the second phone in Cole’s office, and the third in the kitchen, and the fourth in the living room could be heard from the bedroom. Cole plucked the phone from the wall, pressing it to the shell of his ear.

“Hello, morning. This is Cole Gublenn,” he greeted, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed with his back to Nigel.

“Morning Cole,” Vinnie replied.

“Vince, I’ll be in as soon as I can,”

“Are you with Jareth?”

“Not at the moment, no. We’ll be arriving at the studio within the hour.”

“Have you read the paper?”

Cole felt a weight drop in his chest.

He stood still and his eyes stayed fixed. He reached up to begin drawing circles around the bulb of his left collar bone.

“What is it?” he asked.

Vinnie said nothing for a very long time.

“What is it?”

“I’d rather you read it, really. It’s not my place.”

“For god sakes, it’s your place as Jareth’s employee. What in the bloody hell has been said about him?”

Vinnie said nothing. Cole could feel Nigel’s eyes on the back of his head.

“Come now, Vinnie,” He said.

“Ruby’s gone and done an interview.”

“With who?”

“Ehm,... Gossip Groove.”

“What in the bloody hell is Gossip Groove?”

He ran a hand through his hair

“Right, alright, I’ll be seeing you at the studio as quickly as possible,” he said.

“I’ve gone to Jareth’s to see you.”

“Right, I’m running late. I’m sorry,”

“Alright,”

“I’ll be there quickly,” Cole said.

“Alright,” Vinnie replied.

Cole took a one minute shower while Nigel dressed in the bedroom. In five minutes, Cole was fully dressed in his work pants, collared shirt, and sweater vest for the colder season. He still had his morning stubble around his jaw and his hair was still wet as he and Nigel stepped into the chill of the morning.

Nigel plucked both of their coats from the rack as he followed, and Cole reached for the door handle to lock it.

While Nigel slipped each arm into his coat, Cole chugged the key inside the lock three times, locking then unlocking the door until the final turn. He pulled the key from the slot and pushed his shoulder against the door to test it, then pocketed the key and took his coat from Nigel.

The doors to Jareth’s estate burst open and Cole’s shoes clacked against the sleek vinyl flooring, then Nigel’s. Cole’s long coat wafted out behind him as he removed his white gloves. Vinnie was sitting on a long fainting chair in the front entrance, but stood as Cole approached him, offering the paper to him.

Cole took it and split it open while Nigel peered over his shoulder. Photos stamped in black and white of Ruby beside Jareth and Ruby beside Cole were stamped between the writing. Cole was holding his son in the third paragraph, Anatole, which had been cropped from the background of a Jareth paparazzi shot. Cole and Ruby were in paragraph seven in the back of a cab, both glaring at the camera man. Cole’s hands began to shake.

He closed the paper, reading the title; Jareth Gublenn, an Affair with his Brother’s Wife.

Cole read the title once, then again, then a third time.

He continued reading; Jareth Gublenn, despite his timid front and gentle appearance, has been revealed by Ruby Gublenn (Formly Ruby Jankins) as a man of deep love and passion, perhaps too much for his own good. Despite the marriage between herself and Jareth’s brother,- and manager- Cole Gublenn, the two couldn’t help but-

Cole closed his eyes. He stood very still, and both men beside him watched his face. He opened the paper again, then closed it, having lost the ability to read. He rubbed the side of his face.

“Is it true?” Vinnie asked, but quieted as Nigel gave him a look of disapproval.

Cole swallowed thickly through a dry throat, then dragged shaking fingers over his mouth.

“Does Jareth know?” he asked, whispering.

Vinnie did not answer.

Cole thought for a very long time. Every talk show, producer, sponsor, school girl, husband, wife, britt, american, would be peeling open this paper just this morning. He pictured Ruby’s face as she gave the interview. He then pictured her long bare legs wrapped around Jareth’s waist, her head thrown back.

The Christmas album. It was to be out within the month. A Christmas album can not be delayed. No one would buy a Christmas album in the spring, and certainly not the album of a man who sleeps with his brother’s wife.

He pictured Sonya and Anthony at school this morning.

A hand appeared on Cole’s shoulder, warm against the wool of his vest. Cole did not roll it off, he only stood and thought. For a very long time, the three men said nothing to one another.

“I’d best wake Jareth,” Cole said, folding the paper and tucking it under his arm against his side.

Vinnie shared a look with Nigel.

“Right, you’ll send him daft if we let you in there, shaking him about to get answers,” Nigel said.

“No, no it’s quite alright, really,” Cole muttered.

“Come now, Vinnie’ll get him. Go on.”

Nigel cocked his head at the younger man, sending him away. Vinnie hesitated, watching Cole’s face before sticking his hands in his thick fur mink coat and heading for the master bedroom. The clack of soles against vinyl softened as he made his way up the red velvet stair steps. The grandfather clock beside the fireplace began to bellow, marking that it was now 10 o'clock in England.

Cole sighed slowly through his nose, his eyes fixed on the floor in a blank stare. Nigel’s hand shifted to the back of Cole’s exposed neck, and he began to rub his thumb back and forth. He could feel the creases in Nigels warm palm against his skin.

Cole was led in silence to the kitchen and out of the backdoor to Jareth’s garden. He was then sat under the wooden gazebo that had swirling greyhounds carved into the masts, and willow branches carved into the ceiling. He was brought a cup of tea with a moss green teapot, and triangle cut egg sandwiches with the crusts sliced off. Nigel sat with him and drank.

The built-in koi pond trickled, sagging willow leaves brushed against one another, and the thick grass glistened still with morning dew.

“Rather dreary…” Nigel commented, leaning forward to eye the overcast sky.

Cole placed the paper (still folded) on the table. Nigel eyed it, reading in secrecy from where he sat. Cole scoffed, and Nigel smiled to himself, looking away from the paper, and then at Cole.

Cole leaned back in his chair and drew circles with his middle finger on his knee. He drew three in one direction, and then three in the other. Nigel watched him.

“‘It’s not true, Cole.” Nigel said. He spoke gently.

“God, no. No, Ruby says many things,” Cole responded, then cleared his throat.

“That she does,”

Nigel let an amused huff escape his nose. He shook his head, then looked away to watch the stone pathway like Cole was. “I think he’s too poorly.”

“Poorly?”

“Ill, I think he’s ill.”

Cole’s brows furrowed and he looked at Nigel.

“He’s ill?”

“Not ill, just ill in the heart.”

“God sakes,” Cole said, shaking his head.

For a while, neither of them said anything.

“You don’t wonder?” Nigel asked, letting his head drop to the side to look at Cole.

Cole pictured Jareth holding Ruby’s hand under the table at dinner, toying with her wedding ring. He glared at Nigel, coldly, then crossed one leg over the other and looked down at the tea in his cup. It took half an hour before Jareth arrived.

Jareth emerged from the estate in thick fabrics. A loosely crocheted maroon scarf hung from his shoulders over a knitted brown, caramel, turquoise, and cream striped cardigan. Under that, an off-white linen collared shirt. His silk pajama pants dragged at his ankles over his slippers. He walked with his hands in his pockets, and he watched the koi in the pond absentmindedly while passing. Vinnie followed a few steps behind Jareth, but stopped at the steps of the gazebo.

“Jareth,” Cole said, sitting up.

Nigel placed a hand briefly on Cole’s shoulder before he allowed Vinnie to accompany him back to the kitchen where they would likely read their own copy of the paper.

Jareth sat down and crossed his legs. He leaned against one elbow on the chair and watched the pair leave.

“Right, I don’t want this to panic you now Jareth, whatever comes of it we will handle. Worse has happened to other figures,”

Cole studied his brother's face, the soft tip of his nose and the gentle curve of his jaw. His round eyes were dull and absent, and he wasn’t looking at Cole.

“Have you woken up?” He asked.

“Yes,” Jareth responded, turning his head to look at Cole’s shoulder.

Cole sighed through his nose, his brows furrowed and his stache slightly bristled. He leaned forward and offered the paper to Jareth.

Jareth took it and glanced at Cole before unfolding the cover and his eyes began glazing through the title. He breathed slowly and his expression did not twitch or falter, but he slowly leaned back in his chair as he finished the first page and split the paper open to continue his read.

Cole watched his brother through his brows, his breathing audible. He swallowed thickly and looked out into the garden, then back at Jareth.

“Really, it’s something that can be taken care of. I highly doubt we won’t manage a swift turn around with this.”

Jareth turned his head to read the next page. He reached up and scratched behind his ear.

“If anything, we can certainly sue her, Hah,” Cole said. “Defamation.”

Jareth closed the paper and leaned forward to place it back on the table. He raised up his knees to curl up on the chair with his arms crossed over his ribs. He said nothing and leaned the side of his head against the back of the chair.

“Defamation would certainly be a valid claim? Would you like to sue?”

Jareth shook his head no.

“Right, well we certainly must make a statement. Quickly, Together. I’m sure they’ll be expecting a feud between us. We must make a statement. Something of the ehm- the false claims that have horrified us for the gravity of what they suggest. And I certainly have full confidence in you as my brother- perhaps something of Ruby’s delusions,”

“No,” Jareth muttered.

“No?”

“No, not now. Ehm… not yet.”

Cole’s brows became heavy and he tilted his head curiously. He blinked and scoffed, then looked off into the garden.

“Well why the bloody hell not? We haven’t all the time in the world.”

Jareth shook his head.

“I wouldn’t like to make a statement now.” He said.

In the mornings that followed Jareth made a habit of sleeping in. He would laze, sunken in the covers much like a cocoon. When Cole came each morning to wake him, Jareth would greet him but he would not emerge. When he did wake- in the afternoon- Cole would watch him drift around the garden, or the estate, or the balcony of his bedroom with a paper and pen.

While Jareth wandered, Cole received calls. Johnny Ulsik’s talk show canceling the meet, questions from a photographer about the Christmas shoot, a request for a statement by the “official” London Jareth’s fan-club, and a very long rescheduling of Jareth’s meet with Kipper Studios for discussion of a feature film.

Security had heightened at the gates of the estate as crowds had formed. On the second day of the paper release, a young woman climbed the gates and managed to make it to the door before an arrest was made.

When Cole came to the gates each morning in his car, the crowd would split and fester around the sleek cab. Microphones would appear by his windshield, cameras flashed, and Cole’s face always flushed a deep red.

A photograph of Jareth’s silhouette in one of the estate’s windows began to circulate, but really it was Cole and not Jareth.

Two weeks had come and gone, and Jareth had yet to make a statement.

Cole opened the door to the master bedroom, closing it behind him after entering. Despite the several chandeliers, candles, and lamps Jareth had scattered about the room, he only had one standing lamp on. The lampshade had thin opal tassels around the rim, and was a deep red which muted the harsh bulb within. The canopy bed frame was made of dark mahogany wood, carved with intricate swirls of flowers and leaves. Thick curtains hung from each side of the bed, the bottoms tied to the masts to let the bed breathe.

Cole moved through the room to the layered curtains keeping the light of the grand window blocked. He watched his step as to not disturb the many tea tables, floor chairs, antique rugs, and abandoned stacks of papers on the floor.

The walls were not visible. Picture frames of different color, texture, and size crowded any free wall space that was not already taken up by a disorganized bookshelf or a dresser or a writing table. Fabrics were strewn about the ceiling, and a stuffed crane soared in mid flight overhead of Cole. Next to the crane, a stained glass lamp hung by a chain.

Cole tripped on a record player and scoffed.

He whipped open the heavy curtains to let the sharp morning light in, and rainbow spots speckled the room from the jewels that dangled off the ceiling.

Cole eye’d a stuffed mink atop Jareth’s dresser as he neared the bed of far too many fabric choices.

“Jareth, come now. Time to get yourself up for the day,” Cole looked at his watch but he did not read the time. “It’s a quarter to eleven, get yourself up for the day now. Come on.”

Cole stood with his hands in his pockets, staring at Jareth. Cole was fully dressed in his collared shirt, vest, work pants, and polished leather shoes. Jareth was not in anything at all.

“Up you get today. Lot’s to get done.”

Jareth did not respond.

“Jareth.”

Jareth shifted again, taking in a very deep breath as his eyes emerged to gaze blanky up at Cole. The several clocks- grandfather, pendulum, mantel, musical, and cuckoo- ticked from all corners.

“We must say something, Jareth,” Cole said, demanding. “It’s time now.”

Jareth closed his eyes, and Cole glared at him, briefly.

“The world believes that you slept with my wife. Everyone believes that you have been sleeping with my wife behind my back, and I had not noticed.”

From the covers emerged a thin arm that outstretched for Cole, palm up with limp fingers. Jareth was watching Cole with soft eyes. He waited with his bare arm up.

Slowly, Cole slid his hand from his pocket- still gloved- and hesitated to place it atop Jareth’s hand. Jareth’s fingers curled under Cole’s palm and his thumb rubbed back and forth on Cole’s knuckles, holding Cole’s hand tenderly. Cole’s brows furrowed and his stache bristled.

“I haven’t,” he said.

Cole shook his head, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Yes, I know you haven’t. Jareth, no one else does. We must say something, nothing can continue until we make a statement. A damn good one,” Cole said. He watched Jareth’s face. “Your career is not over. It did not end.”

Jareth stared out of the window past Cole.

“It’s time to continue pushing forward now. Nigel needs work, as does Vinnie. The orchestra needs to know when they will be working again. I need work, I still have a family. You don’t get to make that decision.”

“Okay,” Jareth said. He still rubbed Cole’s knuckles. “Alright.”

Cole’s brows raised slightly.

“We’ll be making a statement? I may work on one?”

“Yes.”

“Right, thank you Jareth.”

Cole gave Jareth’s hand a squeeze before he stood.

At the end of the day, Cole had worked a first draft of his statement.

“Despite the sensationalization of the claims made by Ruby Jankins, Jareth and Ruby have not engaged in any sexual, or romantic activities with one another. Although the story will cause an undeserving tarnish to Jareth’s career, we will continue to work together as brother and brother. The embarrassment of fully false claims will fail to harm our relationship of manager and star.”

He folded the paper after reading it aloud to Nigel and opened his coat to slide it into the inner pocket. The two gentlemen stood just outside of the estate by the cars. Nigel was leaned up against his, and Cole stood facing him on the edge of the sidewalk. Specks of snow drifted down from the black sky and wet the pavement. A few landed on the fibers of Cole’s coat, and even a few on his stache.

“Hmm,” Nigel hummed. He offered a cigarette to Cole.

“I’ll be reworking it.” Cole said, accepting the cig.

“Have you heard from her yet?” asked Nigel.

“No.”

“Mm, yea, bet not.”

Nigel lit a match. The flame burst from the tip before mellowing into a docile bud. He leaned in, pressing the end of his cig to Coles so he could hold the flame to both. Although Cole could feel Nigel’s eyes looking at him, he did not look back at him.

“I need to see my children,” Cole muttered, shaking his head.

“File ‘em a missing persons.”

“No, that wouldn’t do a thing for me. We haven’t signed a thing, she’s still a legal guardian, they aren’t missing at all.”

“Best get to making more, right?”

Cole’s stache bristled.

“So is he yours? Anthony?” Nigel asked, grinning.

“Oh, god sakes. Of course,” Cole said, then cleared his throat.

“Looks fuck all like ya.”

Cole said nothing. Nigel reached a foot out to tap his ankle.

“Only teasing,” Nigel muttered.

Cole shifted his weight and smoked, looking down at their shoes. He formed the words in his head for the next few lines of his statement, and rewrote others. He had a typewriter at home, though it was low on ink. He may be bothered to pick some up on the way home if a shop would have him at this hour. He would be recognized.

“Need a drive?” Nigel asked.

“No, thank you,” Cole responded.

“C’mon Cole, let me save you the trouble.”

“Really, I’m quite alright. I’ve got lots to do.”

“I’m sure,” Nigel chuckled. He watched Cole’s face for a while, waiting for eye contact. It never came. “You wouldn’t like help ‘round the house? Been some time since you’ve had company.”

“No. Not now, Nigel.”

“Been two weeks Cole, I know how you get.”

Cole glanced towards the door to the estate.

“Don’t make me play with you now, You’ve been working yourself daft,” Nigel muttered.

“Really, Nigel.”

“Let an old man have his way with ya.”

“Stop!” Cole snapped. “Jesus, Nigel. You’re without shame- and without morals.” Cole ran a hand through his hair, taking another glance at the estate doors. He then lowered his voice and leaned in, looking at Nigel through his brows. “I am the only one who cares right now, I will not be entertaining you. I haven’t the time to let you molest me.”

Nigel watched Cole with a tame expression. He thought, took a smoke, then nodded and looked down at the pavement.

“Alright,” he said.

Cole defused, his puffed posture and bristled stache calming. He parted his lips to speak again. After drawn out silence, Cole turned to leave. His shoes clacked on the wet pavement before the door to his car swung open, then shut. Two round headlights beamed with light, and tires began to roll.

When Cole entered his home, he locked his door three times, hung his coat, slipped off his shoes, then made for his bedroom to continue his writing. By the green glow of his desk lamp he sat hunched over with a paper and pencil, rubbing his eyes as he attempted to draw forward the words he wished to say.

Although disappointing, a history of delusion is not something foreign when handling Mrs. Jenkins.

He scratched it out and tried again.

Defamation will certainly

He scratched it out.

Perhaps,

Cole stared at the paper with his cheek resting on his fist. Despite the swirl of well worded sentences in his mind during the drive home, he now could not pull anything worth writing.

The phone rang and Cole jumped, then reached up to place a hand on his chest much like a frightened damsel would clutch her pearls. He backed his chair and stood, making his way across the bedroom to pick up the phone and press it against the shell of his ear. He assumed it to be Nigel, and a smile crept to the corners of his lips.

“Hello, this is Cole Gublenn,” He said.

“Oh Cole,” his mother responded.

“Mother,” Cole muttered, his voice suddenly quiet and gentle as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Cole, what is going on?” She wept.

Cole felt a drop of weight in his chest. His mother, who was now homed in a small town for old rich folks away from London, wasn’t one to read the paper in the morning. She was without friends, and without a husband. Cole had not realized that at some point, his mother would be made aware of the situation.

“What’s happened with Jareth? Is he alright? Oh, my poor boy, poor boy why would he do this…”

“Absolutely nothing has happened, really,” Cole said. “It’s nothing more than slander.”

“Is it really?”

“Yes,”

“But- your son Anthony. He looks so much like Jareth.”

“Yes, but I promise you he is fully mine. I’ve spoken with Jareth, for a long while now, nothing has happened between Ruby and Jareth. Really.”

“Oh, god sakes. Cole, I was so frightened for him, and oh, the poor children. What a viper of a woman- does she have them? The children?”

“They’re doing just fine.”

“Really? How is Jareth, is he faring well?”

“Yes, he’s quite alright. Only tired in the mornings, he’ll be working again very soon.”

“Oh, I do hope he’s not hurt about this. Why didn’t you call me?”

Cole crossed one leg over the other and began to draw circles around his knee.

“It’s not for you to worry about, really,” he said. “It’s only a small obstacle, this happens.”

“Cole, you should have told me- what’s been going on between you and Ruby? What is all of this? Are you divorced?”

“I don’t know, I believe we are separated. She won’t provide me with the proper papers to sign.”

“The last I saw you, she seemed so timid. What a viper. What a snake, how could a woman ever do this to her family? Poor Jareth.”

“Yes, it’s been… tiring. I’ve had to move things back, really.” Cole looked up, watching the warm glow of his lamp across the room. His eyes were soft and his brows were knitted. “I haven’t had the mind to sleep in some time, not well. Jareth won’t get out of bed, I can’t make him, but everything I do depends on-”

“My poor boy,” she muttered. “Be kind to him, Cole.”

Cole’s soft expression fell bland, and he nodded.

“Yes, I have. I have been,” he said.

“He’s sensitive,”

“Yes…”

For a long time, Cole sat on the edge of his bed and drew circles into his knee cap while his mother asked questions. He answered diligently and efficiently, and when her voice would strain from emotion, he would begin talking again to relieve her.

“Cole,” she said, “I need you to come see me.”

“Now?” he asked.

“Oh, soon. Quickly, I need to speak with you, I’ve needed to for some time now and I think that I should see my boys. Please, take Jareth.”

Cole, in the back of his mind, wondered if she had cancer and wished to tell them. He then wondered how long she had it. He pictured himself at the funeral.

“Why?” he asked.

“No, no I need to see you Cole. Please.”

“Yes, I’ll be coming.”

“And Jareth.”

“Yes, I’ll be bringing him. Mmh… At best I can arrive sometime in early January.”

“Oh… Alright. I can wait.”

“Right, it’s settled then.” he said.

“It’s just so much Cole. It’s so much, how could all of this have happened? Why wouldn’t Ruby just have you for a husband? God, how terrible. What went wrong?” she continued.

“I don’t know, really. I couldn’t really say.”

“Oh, alright. It’s so late, you should be sleeping now. Cole, please call me before you come.”

“I will.”

“Alright, okay. Goodnight, Cole.”

“Goodnight, mom.”

“Tell Jareth that I’d like to see him.”

“I will.”

The phone clicked, and the line dropped. Cole placed the phone back on the holder, and he let out a very slow breath from his nose. Quietly, in the privacy of his room, Cole wept to himself.