Gilliflowers (31 page)

It was a beautiful morning. The nicest thing about the month of May is the length of days. They’re England’s equivalent of midnight sun, beginning early and ending late. It was a bit breezy outside, but mild and bright so taking my tea and a couple of digestives I ventured into the garden.

There’s something special about being up and about in the early hours of early summer with only the birds for company. Everything seems more defined and fresh.

There’s a sense of feeling closer to nature’s kind core. It was peaceful. Closing my eyes I let it soak into me. For a brief moment I felt as if I’d cracked the mystery of the meaning of life. This was it. The only thing that mattered was being there, part of the scene, no matter how briefly.

I walked around noting the progress of plants and shrubs while listening to the different notes of birdsong, as well as the sound of the breeze moving through foliage.

The upsets and grievances of the previous few days took a back seat, seeming less momentous.

After refilling my cup with tea I curled up on a sofa in the summerhouse to read some poems written by my lady friend Dorothy. They’re good. A couple of them made me want to cry, though I’m not sure why. I can’t say I understand poetry. I don’t think you can understand it, not as such, you can only feel it. A lot of Dot’s stuff is hand written on loose sheets and in notebooks from the time before her eyesight began to fail. I’ve been helping her sort it all out, reading it back to her and then typing up some of her favourite pieces on the computer and printing them out. I’m going to catalogue and bind them for her.

By six o clock the breeze was developing into something more forceful. I took advantage of it by hanging the first cycle of washing out to dry, taking some measure of job satisfaction at seeing it blow on the line. We all have to find pride in our work somehow. I tidied the lounge, polished and then decided it was a decent enough hour to start grilling pig rashers.

I took the resulting sarnies and a fresh sample of the Earl’s liquid back to the summerhouse to enjoy, watching as our resident gangster robin laid landmines in the shrubbery to deter other birds from landing on his patch. (Lie detector says you need serious truth counselling, boy!) Oh all right, naturally it didn’t lay landmines. Let’s not get silly. It did patrol aggressively around though, head butting the odd worm here and there for its brekkie.

I decided to go out for an early run, but didn’t stay out long because the wind was blowing in a direction that hindered progress. I didn’t feel up to battling with it.

The boyfriends were still abed when I got home, but no longer sleeping. Stripping off my top and shorts I lay down on the bed in the single room listening to the sound of a spanking in progress, though not a disciplinary one. It’s weird, but when being disciplined for real Dick hardly makes a sound. However, when the spanking is erotic foreplay he makes enough noise to waken the dead. His gasps, moans and whimpers of excitement were soon followed by the sound of them fucking. Their usual sexual grammar was punctuated with diffused smacks, as Daddy kept his boy at the peak of arousal. My mind sprang up pictorial accompaniment to their sounds while my right hand kept pace with it. I climaxed just a little ahead of Dick who had to wait for Shane’s directive. In the relaxed silence that followed I drifted to sleep, my early start catching up with me.

I was rudely awoken from rest by a shake to the shoulder and Shane telling me it was time I was up. He wanted breakfast. I mumbled ‘fuck off, Shane’ though not exactly in those words. I actually mumbled “in a minute,” but he knew as well as I did that what I meant was ‘fuck off, Shane,’ after which I tried to resume sleeping.

The slap to my backside was arousing. It certainly got me up, but only out of bed.

I was not a happy sunny bunny. I was a huffy hissy houseboy. Snatching my shorts up from the floor I dragged them on.

“It wouldn’t have killed you to get your own breakfast for once, Shane. It is a bank holiday and it’s not as if you’ll pay me double time for working it.”

“Aw and there was me thinking you worked bank holidays for love.” Dick appeared in the bedroom doorway, wearing nothing but a smile.

“Yeah well,” I pulled my t-shirt on. “Maybe love isn’t as satisfying a currency as I thought it was. I might as well work for hard cash.” I stalked past him.

He spoke sadly to Shane. “Sometimes bringing up baby seems such a thankless task, don’t you think, Daddy?”

Shane grunted agreement, adding it wasn’t too late to have me adopted. Declining to be amused I continued downstairs.

Turning on the radio in the kitchen I set the table, juiced citrus fruits, put coffee on to perc for Shane, made tea for Dick and then scrambled some eggs to pile onto toasted potato scones, which I topped off with anchovies. There was fresh fruit salad left over from the day before, which I also put on the table.

They came down all freshly showered and dressed. Dick would have kissed me only I made sure I was holding the teapot in front of my chest so he couldn’t get close enough. He noticed and sharply asked why only two places were set at the table. I made known I’d eaten earlier, much earlier, along with the proverbial larks. I also made known I’d just gone back to bed and gotten off to sleep when Shane had woken me with demands for breakfast. I gave him the benefit of a frosty look. “You do realise sleep deprivation is considered to be a form of torture. I could sue.”

“Why the hell didn’t you say anything?” He crossly clapped the back of his hand against my bare thigh. “You were sound asleep. As far as I knew you’d been sound all night. I’m not psychic, Gilli. If you’d told me you’d had a disturbed night I would have left you in peace. The only message you communicated was one of tiresome bloody martyrdom.”

Dick attempted a spot of oil pouring. “Go back to bed for a couple of hours, honey, I’ll clear up here when we’re done.”

“I’m not tired now. I wouldn’t be able to sleep. I’m going for a shower.”

“Shower later,” he patted his knee, “come and have a cuddle and a cup of something with us first. We’ve barely seen you this weekend.”

“And whose fault is that, certainly not mine. You’ve shown more interest in spending time with Leo and his cronies than with me.”

“Maybe because they’re pleasanter company than you are at the moment.”

I flinched as if slapped. “Thank you for those kind words, Shane. They mean a lot to me. I’ll treasure them always.”

He’d hurt me and he knew it. “Gilli,” he reached for me, but I evaded him, exiting the kitchen.

The phone shrilled as I strode into the hall. I picked it up scowling as Leo asked for Shane. I could guess what he wanted to speak about. No doubt he was going to invite the boyfriends out to play boats, leaving me stuck at home on my own again.

“It’s Captain Pugwash,” I shouted slamming the receiver down onto the table. “He wants a word with Master Bates.”

I ran upstairs to the bathroom closing the door behind me and locking it in a childish act of defiance. The sound of feet on stairs hastened a revision of my action. I quickly unlocked it, as per the house rule about epileptics not showering behind locked doors.

Shane opened the door, his face marked with annoyance. “If you refer to Leo or me in such disrespectful terms again I will discipline you.”

“I suppose you’re going sailing again and you want me to dish up dinner when you’re done.”

“You suppose wrong. The wind is picking up too much, there’s a weather warning out. Leo has invited us over for a late lunch instead.”

“I’m sure you’ll have a lovely time. I’ve heard he’s pleasant company, unlike me.” To my infuriation I started crying. “Excuse me.” Pushing past him I went into the single room. Why the fuck did I love him, why did I love either of them. Pigs the pair of them. Sitting on the edge of the bed I angrily wiped the tears away with the heels of my hands.

“You’re tired.” His tall frame filled the doorway. “Go back to bed, have a nap.

There’s plenty of time before we go to Leo’s.”

“I’m not going. I’m sure you’ll have a pleasanter time without me.”

“True, but you’re going anyway.”

“Of course I forgot, freedom of choice is in short supply these days, for me anyway.” Lying down I curled on my side with my back to him. I sensed his presence for a moment and then sensed his absence. I didn’t expect to sleep, but I did.

Dick woke me at one, asking if I felt better.

“Better or pleasanter?” I sat up, leaning my head back against the headboard, still feeling groggy. Day sleep isn’t as refreshing as nocturnal sleep. It takes longer to shake off.

“Don’t be so sensitive.” Dick sat on the bed, rubbing a hand along my leg. “He didn’t mean to crush your feelings.”

“Yes he did, he doesn’t give a flying fuck for my feelings.”

“You have to admit you’ve been a trial to live with lately.”

“Ditto.” I drew my legs up, hooking my arms around them. “From my point of view you and Shane have been harder to live with.”

“I don’t doubt it and I am sorry. I don’t like seeing you unhappy and conflicted, but the solution is in your hands, honey. With acceptance comes peace.”

The set of his face persuaded me it would be wiser to swallow rather than deliver the snide
‘whatever’
poised on the tip of my tongue.

“Come on, Gil, get your arse out of bed and get ready. Leo is expecting us at two.

The taxi will be here soon. Shane will combust if we’re not poised to leap into it the moment it arrives.”

“Taxi? So you and Shane are planning on having a few drinks at Leo’s?”

“It is a holiday.”

“For you maybe.” I got out of bed and headed to the bathroom to shower.

We weren’t Leo’s only holiday guests. Jak and Mike were there. They’d probably stayed over the night before after enjoying a flogging and fucking frenzy. I can’t say I was thrilled to see them, not Jak anyway. He had his wheel with him and was balancing on it in the garden juggling a set of colourful padded balls. Dick was fascinated and when Jak asked if he wanted to have a go he leapt at the chance. Jak adjusted the seat a little for him, instructed him on mounting technique and after a brief wobble he was away with it, riding it easily. Mike could also ride it. Shane smilingly declined to have a go, saying he was too long in the leg and also the tooth for unicycling games. He preferred two or four wheels to the single variety.

I would have loved a shot at the unicycle, but not in front of Jak. I don’t have a brilliant sense of balance and I didn’t want to make a complete tit of myself by failing to mount the thing let alone ride it. I can mount and ride a cockhorse with no problem at all, but a single wheel is another matter. I hastened indoors to use the bathroom and then chose to watch activity from the comfort and safety of the conservatory until Leo announced luncheon was served.

He’d made a Greek style lamb dish with orzo for lunch, serving it with feta salad and homemade tomato and olive bread. The lamb was delicious, but rich, a bit too rich for my bubbly stomach. I ate only a little of it, filling up on the blander, but still pleasant bread and salad. Of course there was also wine on offer for those able to partake. Leo had bought a bottle of de-alcoholised red wine for me. I appreciated the gesture, but not the wine. It was a foul impostor posing under the guise of a Merlot. It was like drinking industrial waste matter, which of course it was. Remove the alcohol from wine and what you have left is waste. It polluted my mouth.

Leo quirked his eyebrows as I set my glass down. “Verdict?”

“Sorry, Leo, it’s vile.”

“Let me try it.” He took a sip and grimaced. “Nasty indeed, like foisty Ribena.

Never mind. I’ll find one you like yet.”

Shane voiced his opinion, angering me in the process. “Might be best if you left it, Leo. Substitutes are never going to match up to the real thing. They only remind Gilli of what he’s missing. It’s like being a vegetarian and eating things that look like meat.

What’s the point? You either eat meat or you don’t. Why waste money on stuff pretending to be wine when clearly it isn’t.”

Leo was undeterred. “There has to be at least one palatable alcohol free drink on the market.”

“I drink Beck’s Blue when I’m driving,” chipped in Mike helpfully. “It’s not too tragic for an alcohol free lager.”

“It still has alcohol in it, Mike.”

“Yes, but so small as to be negligible.”

“Not negligible enough if you’re allergic to it.”

I disputed the allergy bit, but said nothing. I’d already had the percentage conversation with the boyfriends. I’d tried to argue a case for lower alcohol wines and beers instead of totally alcohol free, but Shane was adamant. Anything with alcohol, no matter how small the amount was off limits. As far as he was concerned alcohol free should be exactly that, 0.00%. He’s doctrinaire about certain things. He even checks the mouthwash to make sure it's alcohol free.

“Water’s fine, Leo.” I moved the subject on before my inner annoyance manifested in outward rudeness along the line of a sarcastic riposte, ‘
Dick and Shane
think I’m likely to keel over and froth at the mouth if I get a sniff of a barmaid’s
apron.’

When lunch was over Mike, Jak and Shane trotted off to the lounge to watch a televised cricket match. Dick and I helped Leo clear the dining room table and take everything through to the kitchen, stacking it for his daily lady Annie to deal with the next day. I’d have offered to tackle it, but I knew Annie got a good bonus for cleaning up after holiday guests and I didn’t want to deprive her of extra income.

The fake wine was poured away and the bottle put in the recycling. Leo then took real drink orders, dishing out bottles of Asahi Japanese lager to Mike and Jak. Shane opted to join Leo and have a glass of port. Dick stuck with the wine from lunch, finishing off what was left in the bottle. I made myself a mug of tea.

Watching cricket on telly is about as interesting as watching paint dry to my mind.

I took my tea outside and had a wander around Leo’s sumptuous garden looking for ideas I could replicate. He employs a landscape gardening company to maintain it throughout the year. It’s beautiful no matter what the season. I had a nose in one of his greenhouses to see if any of the plants were far enough on for me to pinch a cutting or two from.