In 1975 Mike Parish and Tom Hughes met at a tea party organised by the support group Gay Icebreakers. Nervous, Parish sat on the sofa wondering what to say, when a young chap the same age leaned forward from the opposite end and smiled at him. And that was it. Six months later, they moved in together.
They are still living together 46 years on. They can claim proudly to be part of a generation that broke new ground for same-sex couples; meeting only eight years after the decriminalisation of homosexuality, and at 20 years of age they were both under 21, the legal age for consent at the time.
A lot has changed for the better. However, Parish says that as an older couple they’re still at the frontier, pushing forward, whether they want to be or not.
Ten years ago, Hughes was diagnosed with dementia and Parish is now his carer as well as his husband. But when he accompanies Hughes at health appointments, he’s grown used to being mistaken for his brother – and even occasionally his son.
“If someone had said to me that when you’re 66 you’ll still have to come out, I wouldn’t have believed them, but we do,” explains Parish. “Every time we have an appointment with people we don’t know, we have assumptions made about our relationship. And while I understand it’s not meant rudely, I wish they would ask what our relationship is first.”
It all contributes, he says, to a feeling that somehow their love doesn’t quite belong. It’s why, when he and Hughes sat down to watch an advanced copy of the film Supernova in their home outside Bath, it felt like a cool, refreshing drink.
The film, which stars Colin Firth and Stanley Tucci as a couple on a driving holiday to visit friends and family in the Lake District, resonated deeply with its portrayal of a couple dealing with a diagnosis of dementia.
Parish would have watched it regardless, because of the dementia theme; but suddenly, here was a story like theirs being told through a couple, which felt like it could really be them.
Parish says: “It’s not the side of a same-sex relationship that you see portrayed almost anywhere else. That going on holiday and seeing friends and family is exceedingly normal for us.
“The whole film felt exceedingly normal, which is down to the value of the acting and the actors. They really did make it look like they’ve been together a long time.”
Colin Firth and Stanley Tucci star as a couple dealing with a dementia diagnosis in the film Supernova
Credit: Television Stills
As we chat over video link, Hughes, 65, is dozing next to him on the sofa. It’s late afternoon, always a sleepy time, but I can sense he’s listening to our conversation. “He’s still cogent and aware but unable to speak,” says Parish. “Which of course is a great loss when you’ve been with someone for so long.”
Hughes lost the ability to talk in 2018. Parish admits he struggles to recall the faded lilt that betrayed his Glasgow roots. A year later the couple moved from London to the countryside, where they would have more space to manage Hughes’s condition.
There are over 300 different types of dementia. Hughes was diagnosed with HIV in 2003, and began to experience mild memory problems five years later. He also found it more difficult to understand new tasks.
By 2011, these symptoms were affecting his work as a pensions adviser, forcing him to retire on medical grounds due to HIV-associated neurocognitive disorder.
The scene in Supernova where Firth’s character pops into a service station for supplies only to return and find Tucci has disappeared brought back the horror of all the times something similar happened to Parish.
“That made my stomach flip. We were at the South Bank Centre once and he wandered off. I phoned him and said ‘Where are you?’ and he said, ‘I don’t know.’ It’s much more frightening than it comes across in the film.”
In late 2014, Parish retired from his job with the fire brigade, where he trained people in emergency incident management, to care for Hughes full-time – a role he describes as “living the life of two people”.
Hughes, he says, has met his illness with the same laid-back nature he has had his whole life.
“It’s very difficult to get him into a flap, unlike me. That’s where we work together,” says Parish, adding more soberly: “He has, without frustration, fallen into this process in the decline of his cognitive abilities. And the benefit there isn’t only to the people around him, but to himself as well. Otherwise he would get very stressed.
“Many other people with dementia have massive frustration and anger that they can’t find the right word.”
It helps that Parish has had decades of experience in reading his body language and mood to make up for that loss.
It is not the retirement either of them planned. Yet, Parish says, there was never a model for the course their relationship might run.
“We were at a time when there weren’t people on television or role models that you could identify with.
“My brother knew there was a map for his life: get married, buy a house, have kids. He didn’t have to follow it, but it was there.”
In 2019 Mike and Tom moved to the countryside in Somerset for more space to manage Hughes’s condition
Credit: Jay Williams
Parish, meanwhile, recalls phoning up Icebreakers and telling them he thought he was gay and would quite like to meet other people. “That was quite a big thing for me. Determining who you are and your sexuality.
Back then, choosing that path meant that you risked losing your family, friends, or even your job. So I had to be very cautious.”
Meanwhile, it was Hughes who had been posting the very stickers for Icebreakers on the London Underground that Parish had spotted. Reflecting on that first meeting, Parish says: “I feel very lucky because he’s been a stable rock for me.”
Even now when he gets worked up about something, Parish will ask himself what Hughes would have said to him to help him calm down.
At times he has felt the need to talk to other gay couples who are living with a partner with dementia, but struggles to meet any. “I go to a support group where I’m the only gay person going through this, and I think, ‘Surely I’m not the only one?’”
A Stonewall report from 2018 revealed that one in seven LGBT people (14 per cent) avoid seeking healthcare for fear of discrimination from staff.
He worries that the accumulation of encounters of intolerance means gay couples are less likely to seek help and support. “They don’t hurt but they add up. You start asking yourself, do you really fit in? Are you really part of this human family?
“If the person you love most in the world is declining and then you’re having to engage in events where you don’t feel comfortable, the burden is too much for some people.”
He hopes that Supernova’s release in cinemas this month, which has been much delayed due to the pandemic, will serve to change that. To him it’s not important that the main actors aren’t gay, but rather that the story feels authentic.
“It’s an awful word, but it does give you validation. Yeah, we do that, we’re like them. It is incredibly important to see people who reflect you and have that acceptance.”
“It will also show that same-sex relationships are as deep and long-lasting as heterosexual ones. And face similar challenges.
“I love Tom to the core. I would do anything for him and caring for somebody is the biggest gift you can give someone. It’s a very honourable thing to do.”
Supernova, only in cinemas, from June 25
Alzheimer’s Society is here for anyone affected by dementia. For information, advice and support please visit the website call Alzheimer’s Society Dementia Connect support line on 0333 150 3456
