Authors: Julian Clary
‘The
times I’ve heard that,’ I murmured. ‘This is a death-bed speech and a half.’
She
didn’t hear me. ‘And when you do, you will hatch the most wonderful gift that
life on this earth has to offer. Doesn’t that sound attractive? If you ignore
the signs and fight against Nature, you take the consequences.’
‘I’ll
try, Grandma,’ I said, but she hadn’t finished.
‘Find
love, find happiness,’ she went on. ‘Will you promise to do that? If you do, I
can die happy, knowing that my daughter and grandson have found their true
paths in life. My own loss won’t seem so bitter.’
After
such impassioned words from a dying relative, I could hardly refuse. ‘Yes,
Grandma,’ I said. ‘I will. I’ll give it a go.’
A
burden on my shoulders, one that I hadn’t even known I was carrying, seemed to
lift. I felt as though I was seeing the real state of things for the first
time. Everything seemed so gloriously clear.
‘Go out
there, Johnny!’ she whispered. ‘Change your life. Make it what you know it can
be.’
‘Grandma,’
I said, reaching out and squeezing her hand tighter than the terminally ill
usually enjoy, ‘I know what I have to do.’
I walked talk out of the
house in Blackheath, gripped by a whirlwind of emotion, and hailed a taxi.
‘Cheer
up,’ said the driver. ‘It might never happen.’
I
pushed the glass partition closed and had a good think. My grandmother was
dying, and I was desperately sad, but she had inspired me, too, by showing me
the way in which I could change the course of my life. It had taken a
talking-to from Grandma Rita to make me see how miserable I was — and, of
course, she couldn’t even begin to guess at the homicides that also made my
existence so hard to bear.
This
was my moment of realization. I was going to turn my life round as of now. Stop
all of it. I’d give up the drugs that could never give me up, and I would
remake
The Johnny D Show
so that it wasn’t car-crash telly any more but
a wonderful, intelligent, fun show that everyone would want to watch and that
would become a Channel 4 classic. I would turn into a British institution. What
was more,
The Johnny D Show
would be hosted by an honest man. I would
come out, in honour of my grandmother, and stop all the silliness about my love
life and made-up girlfriends. It was time that my adoring public knew the
truth. Incredible as it might seem, I was gay.
And,
most importantly, I would tell Tim that neither of us could live a lie any
longer. We would stop all the pretence. He couldn’t stay with Sophie and I
couldn’t accept him doing so any more. We deserved to be together, to be happy.
He had to let go and surrender to his desire for me.
This
would be my true legacy from Grandma Rita, my future happiness — a tribute to
her bravery and wisdom.
I would come out, I
decided, on next Friday’s show. Not only would I be drug-free and clear-headed,
but just before the closing titles Johnny D would stray from the autocue, and
speak the words he longed to voice on air. He would stand up to be counted as a
homosexual man.
‘The
truth is always beautiful. Do you still love me now?’ I planned to say.
Catherine was not at home
when I got in, so I couldn’t tell her the glad tidings.
Instead
I decided I needed to talk to Tim and, at the very least, set up a meeting
between us so I could tell him of my resolution. I couldn’t wait another moment
to break the news to him about our happy future together.
I
telephoned him at work. When his secretary put me through he sounded
exasperated. ‘Johnny, come on, we saw each other last week. I can’t get away
too often.’
‘Please,
Tim, it’s important. Meet me tonight at Leonardo’s.’
When we
didn’t go to the Savoy we chose this discreet but luxurious hotel in Poland
Street, tucked away from the busy road behind World of Velour.
‘Well
…‘
He
sounded as though he was weakening. Even over the phone I could tell he was
smiling. He loved Leonardo’s. ‘I’ll book the Mona Lisa suite,’ I purred.
‘Lobster, Cristal, stale rolls reheated just for us?’
‘Sounds
tempting,’ he said. ‘Guess I’ll have to make do with you for afters.’
‘Tell
Sophie you’re working late,’ I coaxed.
‘All
right. But then we’ll have to hold off for a while.’
‘Absolutely,’
I said, thrilled. If everything went according to plan, we’d be together for
ever after tonight.
I was waiting for Tim,
eager and excited. I had everything we wanted on tap for a marvellous night —
the food, the champagne, the cocaine. (One last blast to finish what I had in
stock. No more after that. For sure.) And, of course, the bed.
The
minute he arrived, delicious and broad-shouldered in his Kilgour suit, a crisp
Turnbull & Asser shirt and tie, I melted into his arms. ‘That’s better,’ I
said appreciatively, as he skipped off his dark charcoal jacket, and kissed me
so ravenously I was pushed back against the wall. Eventually he pulled away
from me, growled playfully and glanced round the room. ‘Now, what have we
here?’ he asked brightly.
I
showed him the food and champagne and the little silver cup of white powder. ‘A
few of your favourite things,’ I said.
‘You’re
in a good mood, I must say.’ Tim moved away from me, sat down at the small oval
dining-table and picked up a lobster claw.
‘This
is a special night. I want us to make the most of it,’ I said, from the heart.
‘Yes,’
said Tim, suddenly pensive. ‘Let’s make the most of it, Johnny. Tonight is the
night to taste all the delights we can.’
We
toasted each other with our crystal glasses, then tucked into our lobster.
Later we allowed ourselves a hefty dose of white powder. I took mine through
the silver straw that Catherine had had made for me. On it were engraved the
words of Hecate, from
Macbeth:
‘And I, the mistress of your charms, The
close contriver of all harms.’
‘Yum!’
I said, with a hearty sniff. ‘That’s the stuff. I’m going to miss it.’
‘Oh?’
Tim said, surprised.
I
nodded. ‘I’m giving up the sauce. That’s the plan.’
‘Not
you, Johnny. I can’t see you without Charlie.’
‘I’m
going to get clean. Special occasions only. No more going on air coked up to
the eyeballs and riding high for days at a time. It’s wearing me out.’
‘Good
on you. Though I’ll believe it when I see it.’
‘It’s
all part of my plan for a new life.’
Tim
raised an eyebrow. ‘What plan is this?’
‘Not
now,’ I whispered, pulling him towards me by his tie. ‘Afterwards.’
We lay, exhausted, on the
vast bed. We were on our backs, side by side, our arms hooked over each other’s
shoulders. Tim pressed his cheek to mine and kissed me sideways. Slowly to
begin with, then faster and faster, over and over again on the same spot, until
we were juddering together like lottery balks.
‘Enough!’
I said, laughing at the tingling, wet, giddying sensation .
He
stopped and said, ‘Now you know.’
My
heart beat faster. This was it. This was the moment when I would tell Tim what
I planned, and our new life would begin.
‘How
long have we been seeing each other?’ I asked.
Tim
shrugged. ‘A year or so, isn’t it? Unless you count before.’
‘I most
certainly do.’
‘Then
you’ve been on my mind for almost seven years. You’re probably entitled to some
of my inheritance.’
‘Do you
enjoy it? Us, I mean.’
He
rolled over so he could look me in the face. ‘You know I do,’ he said softly.
‘It’s one of the things I live for.’
‘It’s
the same for me, Tim. It always has been, since the first moment you spoke to
me. I’ve always loved you. For me, you’ve always been that magical combination
of love and desire, and I’ve never met anyone who makes me feel the way you do.’
‘Maybe
you need to get out more.’ Tim grinned, evidently trying to make sure things
didn’t get too serious.
I
pressed on regardless: ‘No. What I need is to stay in more. With you. And I
believe that, in your heart, you love me too. Tell me, do you really feel this
ecstasy, this sublime pleasure, with Sophie?’
His
eyes slid away from mine .
‘There!’
I cried triumphantly. ‘I knew it. You can’t possibly. You’re only truly happy
when you’re with me. Listen, I’ve come to some decisions. I’ve suddenly seen
what’s really important and I’m going to change my life. I’ve earned a lot of
money in the last few years. Millions. And I haven’t known what to do with it,
apart from stuff it up my nose. Now I have a vision. No more cocaine, and I’m
going to buy a house in the country, in Kent, near my mother, and start to
breathe again. I’ll keep the London flat so I can come in for work when I need
to …’
‘That
all sounds like a good idea,’ Tim said, frowning, ‘but—’
‘No
buts.’ I held up my hand to silence him. ‘I want to be happy. Properly happy.
And you’re part of that, Tim. I can’t be happy without you and I don’t believe
you can be happy without me. We’re supposed to be together, two halves of a
whole. I want you to stop living a lie, just as I intend to. I’m going to let
the world know I’m not a ladies’ man but a man’s man — and I want you to do the
same. Tell Sophie the truth, Tim. Don’t let her marry a man who doesn’t truly
love her in the way she should be loved. Tell your family to go to hell —
you’ve only got one life. Why should you sacrifice it because some bloke four
hundred years ago happened to be given a title and a big house? Chuck it all
in, and live with me. It doesn’t matter if they disinherit you —I’ve got enough
money for us both to live on. Come on, Tim, can’t you see it? Don’t you
understand how happy and liberated we’ll be?’
I was
breathless and excited, eager to show him the vision of our future that was so
clear to me.
There
was a long pause. Then he said, in a low voice, ‘My family would never accept
it.’
‘I
know. I’ve allowed for that. But you can’t live a lie for the sake of their
old-fashioned prejudices.’
‘You
don’t understand the pressure I’m under.’
‘You’re
right. I don’t understand why you can’t be yourself.’
Tim
propped himself up on one elbow to look at me. ‘I came here tonight, Johnny,
because I have something to tell you, too. It was fortuitous that you called me
when I was thinking about how best to let you know. You see, Sophie and I have
set a date for the wedding. Our parents want it to be sooner rather than later,
so we’ve agreed that it should be this summer. The invitations are lready being
printed. There’s going to be a huge marquee in the grounds of Thornchurch
House—’
‘Oh,’ I
said, remarkably calmly. ‘That’ll be nice for you both. Sophie will kook good
in a veil.’ I got off the bed, went to the ice bucket and poured myself a glass
of champagne .
‘I
don’t want you to take it personally,’ said Tim. ‘I mean, nothing has to
change.’
‘I
think you’re wrong about that,’ I said. ‘You’ll be taking vows and I’ve never
been keen on messing with the sacraments.’
‘I have
to marry. It’s expected. You know that, Johnny. I’ve never made any secret of
it, right from the start.’
I
tossed my rather flat champagne down my throat in one gulp. ‘I suppose not.
That’s one thing I can say for you — you’ve always been honest with me, if not
with everyone else. There are lots of reasons why we can’t go on as we are,
Tim, if you marry Sophie. One is that my mother always jumped at the chance of
a married man, and I know what that particular choice did for her. I’d rather
hoped for more from my own life.’
Tim sat
up on the bed, watching me as I paced about the room.