Christmas At Leo's - Memoirs Of A Houseboy (21 page)

“Why? It is Christmas, Mike. The boozing season. Do you want me to get you one?”

“Not right now, Jak. It’s too early.”

“You’re getting old, man.” Jak grinned and then changed the subject. “What are you watching?”

“Search me.” Mike turned to me. “What is it, Gil?”

“Film. The Golden Compass.”

“Never heard of it.”

I leered at him. “That’s because it’s got a PG rating and there’s no sex in it, otherwise I’m sure you’d have several copies on your porn shelf.”

“Very possibly.” Mike laughed.

“It’s a kids’ film.” Vince stuck his oar in. “Why are you watching a kids’ film?”

“It’s classed as a family film actually, suitable for all ages.” I shot him a dirty look.

He and Jak exchanged face pulls. It made me want to deck them and not with festive boughs of holly.

“Talking about families.” Jak took a swig from his bottle. “Didn’t you want to spend Christmas with your mother, you know, in the circumstances?”

The question hit a nerve so raw I felt physically sick with the pain of it. I couldn’t speak.

“Jak!” Mike glared at him.

“What? I’m just saying. If I knew it was my mum’s last Christmas I’d want to spend it with her, and you’d think she’d want to spend it with her only son.”

Mike tried to pour oil, saying mildly. “Don’t be thick, Jak. You know he doesn’t get on with his stepfather.”

Jak gave me a sly look. “You could have buried the hatchet for one day, surely, for your mum’s sake?”

Vince jumped in. “Maybe his mother didn’t invite him. Maybe he doesn’t get on with her either.”

“He doesn’t get on with anyone, Vin.”

They both started laughing.

I leapt to my feet. “My mother is none of your business, so shut your mouths, you fuck stains!”

“Steady now.” Mike stood up, a deep frown on his rugged face. “Don’t let the idiots get to you, Gilli. Go and make yourself a cup of tea.”

Jak jeered. “He’d rather have a beer, Mike, only Daddy won’t let him. The poor ickle baby isn’t allowed to drink.”

“Shut it, Jak.” Mike put a restraining hand on my arm as Jak and Vince broke into more cackles of mirth. He gave me a push towards the door. “Go on, Gilli, make some tea. Make me one too.”

I walked out of the room, hearing his angry voice.

“What the hell is going on with you two?”

“We were just being friendly, Mike, making conversation.”

“Bollocks! You’re like vicious bitches circling prey. You know how volatile he is at the best of times, Jak. You were winding him. It isn’t fair.”

“Who cares about fair when it’s so much fun. Light the blue touch paper and stand well back.”

“Say one more word to that boy about his mother and there’ll be trouble. I mean it. I won’t have it. Show some respect for his circumstances. How would you feel if your mother was terminally ill?”

“For fuck’s sake, Mike. Lighten up. We were only having a laugh. He’s such a pussy.” There was a brief pause, then. “It’s why Shane and Dick keep him isn’t it, to use as a spare pussy, saves them buying a new fuck toy every few months.”

He and Vince started giggling again.

My temper erupted. I felt dizzy with it. Storming back into the room, I made a lunge for Jak. “I’m going to punch your teeth out, you oily twat!”

“Hey-hey.” Mike intervened. Grabbing me around the waist, he swung me aside. “That’s enough. Calm down.” He hustled me out of the lounge, closing the door behind him. “Take no notice of that pair of clowns. They’re on their way to being drunk.”

“They’re cunts!”

“Ignore them.” He manoeuvred me further along the hall and lowered his voice. “Look, kid. It’s plain you’re at war with Shane. From the look of things he’s intent on pinning you to the mat. Don’t risk more bother by fighting with them. It isn’t worth it. Shane will see it as you letting him down, and rightly so. He’ll punish you, regardless of the provocation. You don’t want another run in, not with them here. Practice some self control, and some self preservation too, yeah?”

I nodded reluctant agreement.

“Good man. Go on then, make some tea. Keep your head down.” He patted my shoulder and went back in the lounge. I stood for a moment, hearing him say. “Lay off the kid or you’re both banned from playing on Boxing Day. In fact, I’ll ban you for a month, and not just from playing here either. It’s bad enough that outsiders turn on us at the drop of a hat without us turning on our own.”

“Hardly turning on him, Mike. Just pushing his buttons a bit.”

“And what do you know about his buttons, Vince? You’ve only just met him. Don’t be influenced by the opinion of others. Gilli’s all right, he’s a good lad, and he’s going through a hard time. As for you, Jak, just remember whose hand will be holding the whip next time we play. I can make it hurt in a way you won’t gain from.”

There was a mumble of insincere apologies.

I went into the conservatory rather than the kitchen. I wasn’t in the mood for tea. The coffee paraphernalia from earlier still littered the table. My houseboy hat dropped out of the ether and I automatically began to gather up the delicate china. I took the pot, cups and saucers into the kitchen and washed them up. Returning to the conservatory I plumped up the furniture cushions and had a general tidy around, neatening magazines and newspapers. It was less about being helpful and more about trying to calm the restless agitation in my mind.

I wandered around the room. Leo certainly didn’t share Shane’s festive phobia. The conservatory like the hall was decorated with a tree and other trimmings. The fresh fir tree was smaller than the one in the hall, but beautifully shaped with Christmas gifts piled enticingly around its base. It was dressed only with swags of frosted mistletoe lights, giving off a soft antique silver glow. They were lovely. I’d have to ask Leo where he got them. I squeezed a pine needle, releasing a burst of clean scent, and then resumed wandering.

Dick’s acoustic guitar was propped by the side of the chair he’d been sitting on. I stroked a finger over the strings, wishing I could play something more than a few erratic chords. It would have been nice to soothe myself with music.

Curling up on a window seat I gazed out at the damp garden. There’s something bleak and achingly sad about December days. They’re a grave of raw brown earth covering the decaying corpse of summer. No wonder the ancients had created festivals to lighten them until the spring came again, bringing green shoots of fresh life and new hope.

My thoughts turned to my mother. I wondered if it had even crossed her mind to ask me to spend Christmas with her. I suppose I could have asked her to spend it with us. My mouth twisted at the thought of Frank hobnobbing with the homos. It was impossible. Mum and I were caught in different worlds to the one we had briefly inhabited together.

A sudden random and absurd thought sprang to mind. What had happened to my big plastic He-Man sword? I’d loved that sword when I was a kid. It had still been among my things when I left home. Had mum given it away or even binned it along with the other boyhood possessions I’d left behind? I felt a swell of emotion. She had let me go so easily, perhaps because I’d disappointed her by being gay. Pulling the sleeve of my top down over my hand, I used it to wipe leakage from my eyes and nose. What the hell was wrong with me? All I seemed able to do was dwell on negative aspects of my past. It felt wrong and disrespectful to my mother.

I desperately searched my mind for happier memories, latching onto Mum singing. She used to sing to me a lot when I was little, kiddie tunes, pop songs, ad jingles, just about anything. I frowned. I’d never heard her sing
‘The Hills of Ardmorn’
though. Maybe singing it would have been too painful a reminder of her dad? Or maybe she had sung it and I’d just forgotten.

A memory stirred, of a song she often used to sing to me at bedtime or when I was out of sorts. Some of her words came to mind.
Pretty little boy with the blue eyes playing in the sand make my day, smile for me.
I thought she had made the song up just for me. Of course she hadn’t. She’d changed the words to suit. She’d also changed the sex of the subject. The original song was by a singer called Labi Siffre and was called
‘Make My Day’
and the original lyric was: ‘pretty little girl in the blue dress.’ A thought occurred. It was funny in a way. Mum probably hadn’t been aware that Labi Siffre was gay. What she definitely didn’t know at that point in time was that she was singing it to a gay child.

After Frank came on the scene, mum seldom sung to me again, certainly not when he was around. He’d always poke fun and it made her self-conscious. The big clot.

Closing my eyes, I tried to find a nice picture memory to match the auditory one. I couldn’t. The only picture that came to mind was of me leaving the house that day and looking back at it, half expecting the front door to fly open and mum to shout and call me back home. It didn’t happen. I could still remember the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach as I’d gravitated towards the train station. I’d felt like the loneliest boy in the world. Yes, yes, I know, the drama queen rides again.

“Why are you loitering in here?”

Jesus! My eyes flew open as Shane’s voice broke into my thoughts. I hadn’t heard him enter the room. My bowels almost liquefied at the look on his mush. I scrambled off the seat. Before I could reply Mike arrived on scene with the air of a man in a hurry. He glanced at me and then at Shane, speaking quickly.

“I sent him here, Shane. I thought it best. Jak and Vince were winding his key.”

“Winding it how?”

“Childish stuff, drink talking. They thought they were being comedians instead of arseholes. I’ve sorted them. It won’t happen again, okay?”

Shane nodded. “Thank you, Mike. I appreciate you looking out for him.”

“No problem. He’s a good kid.” Mike left the room.

I folded my arms. “Do I get an apology then?”

“For what?”

“For jumping down my throat.”

“I came downstairs to find everyone but you in the lounge. I can be forgiven for jumping to the conclusion that you’d sloped off on your own again to indulge in sulking rather than socialising.”

“You piss off with Leo and Dick, leaving me on my own, but then complain when you find me on my own. I don’t get it.”

“There’s nothing to get. I told you. You’re not spending this holiday or the rest of your life hiding in corners. If Jak and his buddy try to wind you, ignore them. You’re far too willing to take bait and be offended. You’re always looking for a fight, like a Jack Russell with an attitude problem.”

“And you’re too willing to find fault with me. You won’t give me a break some days. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.”

“No more backchat.” He jerked his thumb towards the door. “Go into the lounge, and be pleasant and amenable. Don’t leave it without my permission.”

I stalked past him, encountering Leo in the hall. I’d bet he’d been eavesdropping.

“Why are you always in a different place to everyone else?” He said in an exasperated voice. “Have you met Vince yet?”

“Who do you think let him into the house while you were in conference. He didn’t slide under the door, though he’s slimy enough.”

Leo rolled his eyes. “Don’t start with another one of your unfounded dislikes.”

Sod off, Leo.
Conscious of Shane close behind me, I kept the words internalised.

Chapter Nine - A Child Is Born

Dick gave me a smile as I walked into the lounge. “There you are.” He waved a hand in Vince’s direction. “I believe you two have already met.”

“Yes.” I said shortly.

To my annoyance, the television had been turned off. I adopted a pleasant tone. “Anyone mind if I put the telly back on? I was watching a film. I’ll keep the volume low.”

“Leave it off for the time being, honey. It isn’t very sociable. We’re here to interact with each other not sit and stare at the goggle box.”

If ever a situation called for a sarcastic
‘whatever’
this was it, but I settled for a mild and accepting, “okay.”

I went to sit on the armchair by the picture window, turning it, so I could look outside in comfort. It was already growing dark. The fairy lights wound through the foliage in the front garden were glowing pretty, like distant stars.

“We’re going to play cards, come and join us.”

“No ta, Dick. You know I’m not a card fan at the best of times.” I kept my eyes fixed on the view through the window.

“We were planning to play poker, but we can always play snap if you’d find it easier? I don’t mind.” Jak made the quip with a light jokey tone in his voice.

It didn’t fool me. I knew he was mocking. Leaping to my feet I snatched up the lager bottle he’d been drinking from. Striking it on the edge of an occasional table to break it, I thrust the jagged end into his throat, severing his jugular. He was dead within seconds, leaving the rest of us showered in his blood. (Lie Detector shrieks in scandalised voice, you did no such horrible thing, Gillibran Brown!) True, I didn’t, but it was a beautiful if brutal fantasy. I settled for ignoring him.