Christmas At Leo's - Memoirs Of A Houseboy (24 page)

“True.”

I didn’t quite know how to react to Pat’s rather stinging observations. I politely shook the manicured hand he offered me. It was cold as ice.

“Pat! Welcome. It’s wonderful to see you.” Leo along with Dick and the bondage twins materialised. Leo kissed Pat and enveloped him in a hug. Dick followed suit.

“It’s good to see you, Pat. It’s been years. You don’t look a day older than when I last saw you.”

“Liar,” said Pat crisply. He looked pleased at the compliment all the same.

After being introduced to Jak and Vince, he put a hand to his chest, glancing around. “I can’t remember the last time I was in the company of so many beautiful young men.”

“Some younger than others.” Leo laughed. “Let me take your coat, Pat.”

“Thank you, dear.” Pat unbuttoned his coat and slipped it off, handing it to Leo. His attire caused Jak and Vince to exchange quick looks laced with sly grins. He was wearing a soft lavender grey suit with a pink shirt and a maroon cravat studded with an opal pin. It was dandyish in a restrained sort of way.

He put a hand to his throat, fussing with the cravat. I felt a stirring of pity. He was nervous. His hands were trembling. In fact, he looked tearful. I instantly forgave him his rather barbed remarks about me. Fear often turns the tongue into a pre-emptive weapon of sharp defence. I felt compelled to try and put him at ease.

“You’re cold. Would you like a hot drink to warm you through?”

“The boy has manners. You’ve brought him up well, Shane.” He managed to smile at me, though his pale blue eyes remained watery. “I am rather cold. Tea would be most welcome. No milk, two sugars.”

“Would you like something to eat, a sandwich or a biscuit?” I made free with Leo’s provisions.

“Tea will do, thank you.”

“Be a love, Gilli, make me one as well. I’m perished.” Mike launched back indoors. “It’s freezing out there and my bloody car heater started playing up on the way to the station. I’ll have to have it looked at after Christmas.” He whammed shut the door and locked it against the cold.

I headed for the kitchen hearing Pat make a comment about me being rather an angel. I preened, until Leo boomed.

“Don’t be fooled, Pat. He’s a tetchy little acid drop most of the time and barely house-trained. He leads Shane and Dick a fine dance. I warned them not to take on a child, but they wouldn’t listen.”

Bastard.

Shane followed me into the kitchen. Closing the door, he leaned against it, as if to bar anyone else from entering, or me leaving.

I picked up the polished steel kettle taking it across to the sink to fill, trying to subdue the butterfly fluttering in my stomach. It sensed trouble.

“Leo is host in this house. It’s his place to offer refreshments to guests, not yours.”

I plugged in the kettle, keeping my back turned to him. “I was being helpful. You did tell Leo I would help in any way I could. I thought Pat looked nervous and a bit upset, hardly surprising with you lot crowding around him like the little circus of horrors. I thought a cup of tea might help put him at ease.”

“Commendable I’m sure.” He strode over to me, turning me to face him. “Commendable or not, what did you omit to do before leaving the lounge?”

The butterfly in my stomach had obviously invited cronies to a panic party because the fluttering increased tenfold. I swallowed nervous saliva. “I reacted automatically when Mike shouted for a hand. Anyway, I could hardly ask, not with everyone there. It would have been embarrassing.”

“There was no need to ask in so many words, but you could and should have looked to me for permission. A look from you and a nod from me is all it would have taken to honour the terms between us.” Leaning towards me, he said. “Your genuine kindness to Pat has saved your bottom from a dose of my belt. It’s your last reprieve, little boy of mine. Once the tea is made and served I don’t want you sliding out of view for the rest of the day. Breathing and blinking you can take for granted. All else will require my approval.”

“Why are you being like this with me?”

“You have only yourself to blame. You drew the battle lines. You have no right to complain. Make the tea and be quick about it. I’ll be timing you.” He ground a kiss onto my lips and then he was gone.

I clicked the kettle switch on to re-boil the water and then wiped a quivery hand across my mouth where his forceful kiss of authority still stung my skin. His stubble is tough enough to exfoliate the bristles off a pig’s hide.

During the tea making and brewing process, my thoughts insisted on focussing on his treatment of me throughout the day, bringing a melange of images to mind: the way he’d humiliated me in front of Leo, the way he’d manhandled me upstairs, the painful punishment he’d doled out and the way he’d lifted me up off the floor afterwards, as if I were a piece of hand baggage. He’d totally owned me.

For the first time that day I was almost glad to be wearing the loose jogger jeans. Sticking my hand down the front of them, I adjusted my boxer shorts to better accommodate my cock, which had suffered another organic reaction to retrospective domination. I angrily reminded the obsequious trouser pup that Shane was a cruel brute who had made my life hell all day.

Shaking my Lord and Master’s mistreatment out of my head, I picked up the teapot. I poured Mike’s tea into a mug and Pat’s into a more refined and delicate china teacup with matching saucer. He didn’t seem the sort of man who would enjoy quaffing tea from a half pint mug.

The furniture around the hearth had been rearranged and added to with a two-seater sofa from the telly area providing extra bum space. Leo had set a match to the fire, much to Genny’s delight. Her purr of appreciation rattled the rafters as she watched the flames catch. It was clear she thought the fire had been lit for her benefit.

“Thank you, dear.” Pat, settled in a chair close to the fire, took the cup and saucer from me with a smile. The hand tremble was still there, but more controlled and the tearfulness had gone.

“Thanks, Gil.” Mike gave me a wink and grin as I handed over his mug of tea. “You’re a little diamond.”

“If only in the rough and in need of extensive cut and polish to eliminate the flaws,” said Leo sweetly.

Bastard.

Jak piped up. “I wouldn’t mind a coffee, Gilli, seeing as you’ve got your housemaid cap on.”

Shane intervened, saying mildly. “You know where the kitchen is, Jak, and you’ve got legs. If you want a coffee, then make one.”

Jak gave an exaggerated sigh. “Can’t be bothered making it myself.”

“Then do without.”

Even with the extra sofa in place all seats were taken. I didn’t dare move to another part of the room though. Prompted by a brief flick of the eyelids from Shane I settled on the floor between his and Dick’s feet, trying to make it look like a casual choice. Sitting cross-legged on the rug I gazed at the comforting fire flames, listening as Pat told of his sadness at the passing of his partner’s sister Emma, saying her death had felt like the severing of his last earthly link to Bill.

He sounded so wistful. I cleared my throat. “You must miss him very much.”

Pat looked thoughtful. “I did at first, desperately so, but the older I get, the more I feel he’s within reach again and waiting for me to join him. I look forward to it with all my heart.”

His words made my Adam’s apple swell with embarrassing emotion, blocking my windpipe and preventing me from further speech. But then what could you say to someone who had just declared they were happy about moving closer to death? My mum certainly wasn’t. She wasn’t old enough to welcome death. Tears pricked my eyes. Thank God Josh Groban wasn’t on hand to sing an apposite song. I’d have had a nervous breakdown on the spot.

“Don’t say morbid things like that, Pat, for goodness sake.” Leo prodded a rude digit in my direction. “Not in front of the boy. You’ll make him cry. Look at his face. His tongue might be sharp enough to etch glass, but his heart is fluff and butter. We’ll all suffer if he has one of his emotional meltdowns. Shane and Dick will be up all night trying to contain the fallout. They’ll have to call out the coastguard to rescue them from a sea of tears.”

An angry and rude response sprang to mind. I kept it there. I was afraid to give him so much as a dirty look, not with Shane on guard. To add insult to injury, Vince gave a disdainful little laugh.

Dick, sensing my craving to disembowel Leo and punch Vince’s lights out, touched warning fingers to the nape of my neck. “There’s nothing wrong with having an empathetic nature and a kind heart.”

“Indeed, there isn’t,” said Pat gravely and turned the conversation to the arduous train journey he’d endured from his home in Brighton, including an acidic and funny description of the ‘fossilised’ bacon sandwich he’d purchased from the buffet trolley.

After finishing his tea, Pat asked to be excused and shown to his room. He was rather tired and he hoped no one minded if he had a little nap to refresh his energy. It had been a long time since he’d travelled so far and the journey had taken its toll on him.

“You’re in the gold room. I’ll take you up.” Leo offered his arm to Pat.

I made to get up from the floor to take advantage of a freed up seat. Shane’s hand on my shoulder spelled a clear message. I was to stay put, the cur at its master’s feet.

When Leo and Pat were safely out of earshot, Vince turned to Mike. Raising his hand, he let it go limp at the wrist and in a lisping voice said, “he’s a bit of an effete old queen isn’t he, how did Leo get mixed up with him?”

Before Mike could answer, Dick, to my secret delight, delivered a frosty response. “I do detest the intolerant elitist element that has crept into gay life in recent times, especially among you younger people. It seems one has to be gay in a certain way to be accepted. It’s sheer prejudice. Pat might be an effete old queen as you so charmingly put it, but he’s a good man. Lots of men display effeminate characteristics and not because they choose it as an affectation, but simply because it’s the way they are. They deserve as much respect and consideration as anyone else.”

“Whoa, steady.” Vince put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I meant no insult, Dick. Sorry. I was just making an observation.”

Shane joined the fray. “Some observations are best left unspoken.”

“Hear-hear,” said Mike. “For your info, Vince, Pat’s partner Bill was a mentor of Leo’s back in the day. He was one of the best Doms in the business and highly respected. Never met anyone more skilled with a bullwhip. I had the privilege of subbing for him once. Tough bugger he was, but what a buzz.”

“No offence.” Jak pulled a face. “Somehow I can’t imagine Pat being into the scene.”

Neither could I, to be honest, but looks can be deceptive. I shifted uncomfortably on the floor. Shane for example looked human when in fact he was the Devil.

Mike elaborated. “He wasn’t, not in a public sense anyway, what happened behind closed doors is anyone’s guess. Everyone who knew Bill was astounded when he took up with Pat. He’d never shown an interest in going domestic with anyone before that. He had plenty of leather-clad hotties to choose from, but it was Pat he fell for. They met later in life, when they were both in their forties.”

“How did they meet?” I asked.

“It was love over a bacon breakfast bap, in a Brighton coffee shop they both frequented. They made for an odd couple, but it was clear they adored each other. Pat was heartbroken when Bill died.”

Leo returned to the lounge and the conversation moved on, focussing on the Boxing Day event: how many were coming, what exhibitions were planned and what areas/rooms would be designated as private spaces for players who preferred to torture or be tortured away from interested eyes.

I brooded on the packing of my collar and leather trews. Would Shane really use me in a public spanking demonstration? The very idea made my blood curdle.

I turned my thoughts to what Pat had said, on being introduced to me. Leo hadn’t painted a very flattering picture of me. A Henry Higgins experiment indeed, the cheeky bugger. I flicked a resentful glance at him from beneath lowered lashes. He was sitting on the chair Pat had vacated, with Genny purring away on his lap. My accent isn’t that thick. I plucked at the knee of my jeans. Besides, Dick likes my flat northern vowels, or at least he claims he does. What you say and what you mean don’t always correlate.

Jak and Vince announced an intention to play billiards, asking if anyone wanted to join them. Mike and Dick accepted and they all went off to the games room. I’d have liked to play too. I was bored stiff with sitting on the floor. I cast a hopeful look back at Shane, but he didn’t encourage and his silence made clear I didn’t have permission. He and Leo chatted for a while and then Leo set Genny down from his lap and said he was going to make a start on preparing dinner. He asked if I fancied lending a hand. I shrugged, saying sarcastically. “I don’t know, let me find out.” I twisted my head to look at Shane. “Do I?”

Shane gave one of his edgy lupine smiles. “Of course you do, my angel. Work is good for the soul. Off you go. Back here afterwards.”

It was a relief to unfold my legs and get up off the floor, but even so I was seething with malcontent over Shane’s treatment of me. I couldn’t play billiards, but it was okay for me to act the part of galley servant.