Gilliflowers (14 page)

Flirty tress artist Jay soon sorted out my locks again. He chatted away as he trimmed and tweaked. I was wearing a short-sleeved tee that left the tattoo on my upper arm exposed. It prompted him to confide he had a rambling rose tattooed on his John Thomas and I could view it if I wanted to. I thanked him, but declined, saying I feared it might set off my hay fever. He laughed and playfully slapped at my shoulder, saying, ‘you’re funny you are.’

I almost asked if the procedure had been painful and whether his cock had been flaccid or erect at the time. It would have to be erect surely, so the skin was taut like a paint canvas? It made my eyes water just thinking about it. I decided against initiating such a conversation in case he construed it as a kind of reciprocal flirting. I didn’t want to encourage him. He’s a nice man in his way, but aside from the fact I’m spoken for he’s not my type.

Hopefully Shane will like my hair and I’ll be back in his good books. I haven’t featured too prominently in the pages of those particular volumes of late. In fact he trounced me last night. Unlike tresser Jay he just does not appreciate my sense of humour. It’s tragic.

There wasn’t much on telly so I suggested we watch a DVD and opted for the first instalment of LOTR’s, extended version, which is my favourite featuring as it does the hunky Sean Bean, amongst other hunks. It’s a hunk studded work of art is LOTR’s.

So there was the lovely Cate doing the spiel about the origins of the ring and how the Dark Lord Sauron poured into it all his cruelty, his malice and his desire to dominate all life, at which point I turned to Shane and merrily quipped, “ah so that’s who your Penny models herself on.”

I have to report he wasn’t amused, nope, not one bit. I almost shit myself as he made a furious lunge for me. I shot off the couch and made a run for the door yelling I was joking. He refused to accept the remark as such and came after me, grabbing me before I could set foot on the stairs and flee up to the den to hide. He’s fast on his feet is Shane. He said I’d been bitching and provoking all day and he was sick of it.

Dick was unsympathetic. He also said I’d been asking for it and I had no right to complain when I got it. I retreated into hurt and misunderstood mode, or sulky silence as the men folk called it shortly before agreeing they wanted no more of my company.

They packed me off to sulk in the single room where they didn’t have to see it.

I suppose I did rather ask for it. We’d had Leo over for Sunday lunch. He and Shane reminisced about a past event, which had obviously meant a lot to them. They were so affectionate and easy with each other that my green-eyed doppelganger broke free of his restraints and put in an appearance. I didn’t miss an opportunity to be slyly rude to Leo after that. I ended up irritating him. He tends to be more amused than annoyed by what he calls my green-eyed tantrums. His usual reaction is to grin and pinch my cheek or ruffle my hair and call me Bébé brat or mon petit garçon jaloux.

He speaks good French and never misses an opportunity to flaunt it. He thinks I don’t understand what he’s saying, and he’s right I don’t, not until I’ve made Dick translate it for me.

I suppose the cheeky remark about Penny was the last straw as far as Shane was concerned, especially in view of tense events over Easter, of which more another time. I must attend to dinner.

Dear Diary,

Please excuse Gillibran for being absent for so long, but he’s been going through a difficult patch.

‘Tis true, life has been somewhat rocky of late, but I’m fine now, on the whole, considering. I’ve been pleasantly busy this last fortnight. We finally decided to get rid of the gravel drive after a couple of stones cast up by Shane’s arriving car badly chipped the paintwork on Dick’s precious just parked car. He had a fanny fit, honest, talk about a tantrum. It put some of mine in the shade.

Shane claimed the chip was unnoticeable. Dick ranted he must need his fucking eyes testing because he could clearly see it. It had ruined his car, absolutely bloody ruined it! While he was on planet strop he took the opportunity to moan about the cherry blossom trees shedding petals on his car and mucking up the paintwork.

I don’t know how anyone, let alone an artistic type, can complain about cherry blossom. It’s beautiful and so indicative of spring. I love looking up through the branches and seeing the heavy clusters of pink flowers impressed against a blue sky like an oriental painting. The avenue has some beauties along its length and we have a couple in the front garden, one of them overhangs the drive and it sends Dick nuts when the petals float down onto his car, especially if it's wet. He claims they stain and damage the paintwork.

Anyway we decided the gravel had to go, if only to stop Dick flinging another paddy. Shane and I did most of the graft. Dick declined to pitch in claiming that as an artist his hands were meant for more refined things than labouring. I didn’t mind him not helping, because I loved working alongside Shane. It was great. He relished scruffing down and doing some hands on labour instead of suit work and I relished doing it with him. He said I’d worked hard and gave me a good bonus in my wages, which was nice, but best was having his approval and respect. I was sad when the job was over. I got a beautiful memory out of it though. It will stay with me forever.

I’ve been slogging in the garden all day. The new brick drive looks fantastic but the surrounding grounds suffered as a result of the work. I’m putting them to rights. I need to go shower and get ready to go out for dinner this evening. I’ll leave some chapters to compensate for my month long absence. They tell of events over Easter and beyond and of my struggle to adapt to a punishment imposed by Dick and Shane in their elected roles as bosses of me.

Easter was a definite miss for me this year. It was too early and too cold for a start. Winter reasserted itself, smothering spring beneath a blanket of snow. To add to the chill we were spending the festival weekend with Penny the wicked witch of the Midlands. I didn’t enjoy the occasion, and I especially didn’t enjoy a repercussion of it.

I’m going to announce a simple truth here. I’d been predisposed towards not enjoying Easter and the fact I didn’t was something of a self-fulfilling prophecy. Still, I could never have prophesied in a million years what the terrible outcome would be… complete castration without so much as a local anaesthetic. (Lie detector says retract that blatantly untruthful statement immediately, Mr Brown) Oh all right, I admit that was a bit of a wind up, though I did feel emasculated at one point.

Prior to us going I moaned afresh to Dick about Shane spoiling the holiday weekend by dragging us to visit his sister, saying I’d rather stay behind. He said me doing a Macauley Culkin and staying home alone would benefit no one, least of all me because I’d be miserable and feel hard done by. Being the contrary bloody man I am I’d then go out of my way to make him and Shane feel guilty about going without me. He repeated something Shane had said earlier, about us presenting as a unit. My staying behind would help validate Penny’s stubborn refusal to accept me as an integral part of the relationship, something I complained about constantly. Therefore I was going, choice removed, so no more bleating from Daddy’s little baa lamb.

He also tipped me the wink that if I continued to push Shane over the matter then there was a good chance I’d get my wish not to spend Easter with Penny, but I wouldn’t be staying home at my own leisure. I’d end up spending it under the guardianship of Leo, or even Howard, subject to their authority. I was horrified and kept my lip buttoned after that little revelation.

We duly arrived at Penny’s gingerbread house in the middle of a deep dark affluent forest (she lives in Edgbaston in Birmingham) whereupon she greeted Dick and Shane with a smile, hug and kiss. I said hello to her and she said hello back in a tone of voice carrying a death wish with it. She then sent out her familiar, a black carrion crow to gobble up the trail of crumbs I’d lain to help me find my way back home.

The Muppet, bless him, spared me a smile, shook my hand and asked how the journey had been, at least that’s what I think he said. I presented Cruella with the sheaf of Easter lilies and Chas with the box of fancy chocolates we’d brought in honour of the season and the visit. Penny soon stripped him of them. It was chocs away for the Muppet. A sad look came to his eyes as she winged them off, as if he knew he’d never see them again, let alone sink his dentures into one. She left him with an order to put the flowers in water.

Their house was like a furnace inside. Admittedly it was a cold day, but even so the heat was overpowering. I felt I was being broiled. I sniped a comment to Dick about Penny being in training in case someone attempted to burn her as a witch, she’d be like asbestos and refuse to ignite.

Dick said she liked the heat because it helped ease her arthritis, which made me feel a bit of a shit for making the comment. He wasn’t trying to make me feel bad. He was stating a fact. I felt like a shit because I knew I was being one. I can’t help it where she’s concerned. I don’t like her and her having arthritis doesn’t alter my dislike, but even an enemy has to be shown sympathy upon occasion. I don’t wish pain and suffering upon her. If I ever hire a hit man to kill her I’ll insist he does it as quickly and cleanly as possible.

In retrospect that little exchange between Dick and I pretty much set the tone of the visit for me. I felt wrong footed and out of synch.

Before we’d set off on our journey to the dark kingdom, Penny had told Shane she had a lovely surprise waiting for him. The surprise turned out to be two more hostages, sorry, I mean houseguests in the form of Shane’s brother James and his partner Lorraine, a tall slender woman with an elegant nose.

Shane doesn’t talk an awful lot about James. They rarely meet up or even speak by phone. They’re pretty much card at Christmas time type of siblings, whereas Penny makes it her business to keep tabs on both her brothers throughout the year. I reckon she’s had them chipped and follows their day-to-day movements on a secret monitor. I know, I know, I’m being bitchy again.

I get the feeling there’s an underlying tension between Shane and James, not so much to do with the fact one is straight and the other gay, but more to do with them being men who have little in common apart from a shared bloodline. Perhaps bloodline is the problem and it’s to do with them being brothers, some kind of competitive thing rooted in childhood, a vying for space, recognition and approval within the family. (I might not have seen my Sociology course through to the bitter end, but something obviously lodged in my brain) Being an only child I’m not really sure how the sibling rivalry thing works, but I know that though my mate Lee and his brother Dave are fairly close, there’s still often an undefined edge between them. It can be a sharp edge, one that wounds. They can be laughing and joking one moment and punching the living shit out of each other the next. When they were kids they’d just about fight to the death over a bit of Lego.

They also have periods when they don’t speak at all because
‘he’s a fucking knob
head.’
However I know each of them would be first to help the other in the event of aggro.

Getting back on track. Penny was excited about the visit, like it was some kind of coup. She was quite giggly little girlish. I’ve never seen her like that before. It made her look younger. I almost warmed to her for a moment and smiled, but she shot me a look that had it been a bullet would have killed me stone dead. Perhaps she thought I was mocking her in some way? I wasn’t.

Shane and James embraced and greeted each other cordially enough, but I got the impression it was more for their sister’s sake than anything else. They’re both remarkably loyal to her, especially Shane. James’s greeting of Dick was warmer and more relaxed, but then Dick is easy to get on with. He can communicate on any level.

He has a gift for making people feel not only comfortable, but also important. He can charm the socks off most folk. He was soon chatting to Lorraine as if he’d known her all his life, even though it was the first time they’d met in person. Her eyes bore a look I recognised from my mum, starry admiration. Dick had made another conquest in the lady stakes.

James has been shacked up with Lorraine for almost eight months, but this was the first time they had attended a family occasion together. He works for a city finance company and she’s a buyer for a textile firm and spends a lot of time travelling abroad. They also suffer from
London Syndrome
, a condition whereby sufferers believe they are the busiest and most important people on God’s earth. They have no time in between commuting to and from work to do anything as mundane as visiting relatives, especially those who happen to live outside the hallowed boundaries of ‘The City’ and its immediate suburbs.

When Penny introduced me to Lorraine I couldn’t help but notice a certain look pass between the two of them. Trust me when I say there was nothing starry about it.

Dick had nothing to fear from me. I would not be claiming his lady killer crown. I suspected I’d been the subject of prior conversation and probably not of a complimentary
‘wait until you meet Gilli, he’s adorable, you’ll just love him’
nature.

In my mind I changed my view of Lorraine from a ‘tall slender woman with an elegant nose’ to ‘skinny lanky beaky bitch.’ I also jettisoned all notions of ever, ever warming to Penny, not even in blizzard conditions with hypothermia and certain death being the only other option.

The full reason for Penny’s excitement became apparent when Charles (the Muppet) appeared in the sitting room carrying a gallery tray with a bottle of champagne and glasses on it. Clapping her hands to get the attention she already had, she announced she had some wonderful news, whereupon she importantly gave the glad tidings that James and Lorraine were expecting a baby, or at least Lorraine was, though obviously James had contributed.

Actually when you think about it the male contribution to the reproductive process is a bit like modern warfare, an enthusiastic and hard thrust forward then a rapid withdrawal leaving the invaded territory to bear the burden of the repercussive aftermath.