Christmas At Leo's - Memoirs Of A Houseboy (4 page)

I spun a yarn about not drinking because I was a Salvationist and had signed the pledge. She didn’t believe me, but didn’t get a chance to interrogate me further. Sheila, one of Dick’s golf club chums rescued me. She had dripped red wine on her cream dress and wanted to know if I had something she could sponge it with before the stain set. I escorted her to the utility room and got a clean cloth and some stain rescue solution for her to use. Domesticated me, eh!

The last hour or so felt like torture. I was so full of wind I could have doubled as a human jetpack by using flatulence to propel me skywards. I’d lift off like Iron Man, but without the jazzy metal suit. It was a huge relief when things wound down and people began leaving in dribs and drabs. There is nothing worse than being stone sober when everyone else is mellowed out. It’s like being the only straight line on a page of wavy ones. You’re a jarring aberration in an otherwise harmonious pattern. By the time the last guest, another of Dick’s golf club pals, was poured into a taxi I wasn’t so much wishing people a ‘Merry Christmas’ as snarling it.
Merry fucking Christmas, now piss off home before I beat you to death with a giant turkey drumstick!

As soon as the front door was shut and locked, I left Shane setting the alarm and rushed upstairs, leaving a trail of pungent vapour in my wake as a portion of the tornado raging in my gut forced its way out. My bowel wasn’t the only soft drink casualty. My teeth felt furred with a nasty residue from all the fizzy drinks I’d consumed over the course of the evening. Now I knew how a kettle felt when limescale built up on the element. It was horrible. I couldn’t wait to brush them.

When I came out of the bathroom, Dick was in the bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt.

“Workplace obligations over for another year, thank goodness.” He smiled. “It went well, Gilli. People enjoyed themselves. You should be pleased.”

“Why?” I gave him a dark look.

“Because you made it happen. Take pleasure in it.”

“Yeah, yeah, a job well done and all that shite. I’m thrilled everyone had such a good time. Shame I didn’t.”

“It’s late, honey. You’re tired. You’re always more shrewish when you’re tired. Go to bed.”

I snatched my pyjamas off the willow chair. “I’m going to sleep in the den.”

“Stop it, Gil. You are not stomping off in one of your childish strops.”

“I’ve had a horrible boring night and I don’t want to be near you or him.”

“Let it go.” He wagged a paternal finger. “It’s useless anger. It hurts no one but you.”

“What’s going on?” Shane invaded the bedroom.

“Baby says he’s going to sleep in the den.”

“Baby is not sleeping in the den.” He strode over to me, swiping a heavy paw across my butt. “Get undressed and into bed pronto, you ornery brat, or I’ll flay the skin from your tail with my belt.”

Baby did as he was told. The men folk undressed, brushed their teeth and climbed into bed. They each kissed me on the cheek and then kissed each other goodnight. I got minor revenge on them for their harshness by pumping some Pepsi gas under the duvet. Once the fumes had dissipated, they soon fell asleep. It took me a while longer, but I succumbed in the end.

The mood I went to sleep with was still with me when I woke up. It was made worse when I discovered a fresh outbreak of small red spots around my nose. No matter what lotions and potions I use, the bastards keep coming back. It was a side effect of my AED’s, and it was getting me down more and more. I was developing pockmarks from the constant flare-ups. My doctor had cheerfully told me it was called an acneiform drug eruption. I was one of the unlucky minority to whom it happened. Being an unlucky minority seemed to be the story of my life. I swiped a cotton pad soaked in Clearasil around my snout and went downstairs.

As I pottered around the kitchen I mulled over the discipline Shane had dished out when he found me in the bedroom the night before. I didn’t think he’d been fair. I’d worked hard. I’d earned a breather. I was rather hoping he’d mention the matter when he came down for breakfast, so I could restate my case (whinge whine and bitch) but even while thinking it I knew it wouldn’t happen. As far as he was concerned, it was over. He’d made known his disapproval of my action, subject closed. It was up to me to accept it and move on. Acceptance doesn’t come easy to me. I don’t have a Buddhist aspect to my personality.

I made porridge and set it on the table before yelling up the stairs that it was ready and I was putting his eggs on to boil, so he’d better hurry up if he didn’t want the yolks going hard.

He came into the kitchen looking casually handsome in black trousers and a fitted open-necked white shirt. The office would be empty apart from him, so there was no need to dress to impress in his usual suit and tie attire. Not that he didn’t look impressive, he did. It’s hard not to look impressive when you stand as tall as he does.

“Morning, Gilli.” He sat down at the table before raising a domestic matter. “There are red wine stains all along the hall floor, did you see them?”

“Yes. I bet it was overflow from Angela. She was pouring Shiraz down her pipe as if it were tap water. She must have a stomach with the capacity of a sherry barrel. I’ll clean them off later.” I poured a cup of black coffee and placed it in front of him.

“Thank you.” He glanced at me as he sprinkled sugar on his porridge. “What’s wrong with your face this morning?”

“Acne!” I snapped. “I’m sorry if it offends you.”

“You snippy little beggar.” He narrowed his eyes. “I’m not talking about your skin. I’m talking about the dour look you’re modelling. You’re just out of bed and already you’re scowling.”

The toaster saved me from replying by popping its load. I retrieved the slices and cut them into triangles, racking them and putting them on the table with his boiled eggs.

“Have you had your meds?”

“Yes. It’s why I have acne.”

“Why aren’t you eating with me this morning?”

“I’m not hungry yet. I’ve had a cup of tea.”

“A cup of tea is no substitute for food. Make sure you eat breakfast with Dick when he gets up.”

“I will.”

“Good boy.”

I was on the tip of my tongue to say ‘whatever’ but I decided I wasn’t ready to greet death. Silence fell. He ate his breakfast. I unloaded the dishwasher and put the pots away before loading it up again with party glassware from the night before. He asked for another cup of coffee. I obliged.

“I’ll probably be home by five tonight. I’ll let you know if I’m going to be any later.” He picked up his cup and took a sip of coffee. “Keep dinner plain and light, soup and a salad will do. No wine. We’ll be indulging enough over the next few days.”

“Some more than others.” I muttered under my breath.

“Pardon?” His voice sharpened.

“Nothing.”

He set his cup back on the saucer. “Go back to bed for a couple of hours, cub. Have a cuddle with Dick. He’ll welcome you with open arms.”

“Yeah, and his third leg as well. I haven’t got time. The house won’t clean itself. I’ve got presents to drop off and I’m visiting my mum.”

“I’m sure you can spare half an hour.” He took a few more sips of coffee and then stood up. “I’d better get going.” He gave me a critical look. “Work on sweetening your attitude. I want to see a smile decorating your face when I get home tonight.”

“Instead of spots you mean.”

His patience snapped with an almost audible twang. I sucked air as he sat down again, pulling me with him so hard that my arse contacted his lap with the force of a slap. He presented a finger to my face.

“That’s enough shit stirring provocation from you, little boy. I know what mire this frame of mind is rooted in. I’m not discussing it with you. You live by our rules regardless of whether you think they’re fair or unfair, right or wrong.” He applied a harsh slap to the top of my right thigh. “If you’re still sour faced and snarling when I get home tonight I will punish you. Is that clear?”

I nodded, rubbing at the portion of thigh he had slapped.

“Good.” Grasping my chin, he placed a firm kiss on my lips, pushed me off his lap and stood up. “I’ll see you this evening. Have a nice day. Give my best regards to your mother. I’ve left some money on the chest of drawers in the bedroom. Buy her some flowers from us all, a special Christmas arrangement.”

“Thank you, Daddy.” I managed a smile.

“That’s better. Smiles suit you better than scowls.”

He kissed me again and I walked with him into the hall, helping him on with his coat before waving him off to work. Picking the milk up off the doorstep, I took it into the kitchen and stuck it in the fridge, not that it needed to be chilled. It was cold from sitting out on the doorstep since the early hours. I cleared away Shane’s breakfast pots before setting the table ready for Dick’s breakfast. I also set a place for myself. Shane would check with Dick to make sure I’d eaten. Hunger can act as an episode trigger and he’s shit hot on triggers. I then trudged upstairs to begin my morning ablutions.

Dick was awake. He smiled as I walked into the bedroom. “Morning, hun. Has Shane gone?”

“Yes. The beast has left the lair to go terrorise the general population.”

“I take it you’ve been mauled and no doubt you deserved it.” He raised an arm above the covers. “Come back to bed for a while. You look like you could use a cuddle.”

“I need to get ready. I’ve got stuff to do.”

“Stuff can wait, come on.” He flung back the duvet and patted the mattress. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”

I huffed a sigh, but obeyed, climbing into bed, lying stiffly beside him on my back, remaining unresponsive and closed lipped when he kissed me.

“Is this mood a hangover from last night?”

Talk about being handed a golden ticket. “Hangover!” I snorted, turning my head towards him. “Chance would be a fine thing. Is that your way of mocking me?”

“Do you really believe I’d stoop so low as to mock or taunt you, Gillibran?”

“No.” Tears of shame pricked my eyes. I turned my head away from him.

“Then why say it?”

“Because I’m a spiteful twat. I’m sorry. I’m still angry about things. I can’t help it.”

“You put yourself through hell and torment over nothing. You’re leaping ahead again, living your entire future in one indigestible lump. You have to learn to concentrate your mind and focus on what needs to be done in the moment. You have to deal with the situation as it is, not how you want it to be, not how you wish it could be, but as it IS. Shane and I have talked and talked to you about this, Gilli, and you’re just not taking it in.”

“You make it sound easy, and it isn’t.” I curled on my side, presenting my back to him.

“It is. There’s no rocket science involved. You obey the rules, simple as that.” He tickled the back of my neck. “Do you want to play? Some light and sexy spanking play might help release your frustrations.”

“I’m not in a playing mood. To be honest, Dick, I feel like biting you, and not for fun.”

“Well, we all know what happens when a boy bites his Daddy. Stop being naughty. Be a sweet baby and let Daddy take you to a happy place.”

“Where?” I glanced over my shoulder. “The pub for a pint of Stella or the booze aisle at Tesco?”

“How about I take you in the playroom and put you on the spanking bench, but not for fun. I’ll tie your ankles to a spreader bar and show how much pain I can put into areas you thought inaccessible.”

“I was joking, Dick.”

“Your jokes are like your tongue. They have too much of a sharp edge at times.”

I knew from the tone of his voice that his eyes would have a sad look in them. Turning over I looped an arm over him. “I’m sorry for being a douche. Forgive me?”

He tugged a strand of my hair. “I think you ought to earn my forgiveness.”

“How?” I faked a pout.

“You’re bright. I’m sure you can think of something.”

Brushing aside his fringe I placed a kiss on his forehead. “How’s this?”

He wrinkled his aristocratic nose.

I pecked a kiss on the lips. “This?”

He pulled a face. “Not good enough.”

Putting my mouth close to his ear I whispered, “I’ll have to try harder then.” He gave a tiny moan of pleasure as I licked his ear, tracing my tongue around every part of it. The moan deepened as I took the lobe into my mouth. I worked on it for a few moments, gently sucking and pulling it between my lips, and then I nipped it with my teeth, just hard enough to make him jump.

“Careful, brat.” He drew his head back and glared at me.

“Oops.” I fluttered my eyelashes and then resumed kissing, moving down the side of his neck, sucking at the skin, building up tension as I moved towards his collarbone.

“Ease off, Gilli,” he put a warning hand on my lower back.

“Just a small love bite, Dick. It won’t show.”

“I said no. I’ll discipline you if you try to top me by marking me.”

The mood was in danger of changing from sexy to serious. I abandoned his neck and kissed him on the lips, gently pushing an exploratory tongue into his mouth. He responded. We French kissed and the mood lightened again.