Gilliflowers (50 page)

After collecting my wallet this morning I went to visit my mother. She’d put on a good dollop of slap and her best clothes. Her hair hasn’t grown back very well, but she hates wearing a wig because it makes her feel hot and sweaty, so she winds a long silk scarf around her head. It looks nice the way she does it. It emphasises her eyes.

She has pretty eyes my mum. She was wearing the gold drop earrings I bought her last Christmas. She looked great, but despite the outward show I could tell she was in a bit of pain. Under the makeup her face looked pinched. She’s also lost weight recently. It upset me though I tried not to show it.

I told her such glamour demanded an outing and insisted on taking her for lunch at one of the posher restaurants in the area. I pushed the boat out and ordered a taxi to take us there and back so she wouldn’t tire walking. I bought her a champagne cocktail to kick off with. She wanted to buy me a drink. I fibbed and told her I was on antibiotics for a bladder infection and they stipulated no alcohol.

I got pleasure out of seeing her enjoy herself, but it was spoiled when we got back to find Frank home early from work. When mum was out of earshot he made a sour comment about me trying to buy her with fancy lunches and said it didn’t alter the fact I’d caused her no end of upset and had never been there for her. I didn’t stick around to argue. He’s an ignorant pig, but maybe there’s an element of truth in his words. He scored with them. They made me feel like shit.

When I got home I did a stint in the garden to try and dispel them. I cleaned yet another heap of leaves from the pond, gave the borders a good tidy up and finally got round to lopping off hydrangea heads. Despite being dead they retain a certain faded charm, like floral antiques. I took a huge bunch over to Eileen because she uses them to bulk out flower arrangements for the church.

We shared a coffee and a bit of a natter. She confided Reg was asking her out a bit too often and she didn’t know how to get him to back off a little without hurting his feelings. I offered to have a word with him man to man. She thanked me, but declined. She thought it best he heard it from her. It wasn’t that she didn’t like him, she did. She just felt a bit rushed and needed some space to think about things.

A part of me wanted to enquire whether Reggie had tried it on, you know, in the snogging and sex department, but I stayed stum. As Dick and Shane said when I

mentioned the subject to them, it’s none of my damn business. Shane put on his Daddy hat and pointed a stern finger: ‘don’t you dare ask the lady for any details of her sex life, young man. It’s her private business and hers alone. If I find out you’ve asked inappropriate questions I’ll discipline you.’

Of course he’s right, it’s none of my business, but I can’t help but be curious. It’s human nature, well my human nature anyway. I’m a nosy sod.

The men folk are off out to a Masonic dinner this evening, so I have no cooking to do. It isn’t an open social event so non-members are not allowed to attend. I’m glad. It spares me the trouble of having to think up an excuse not to go. I don’t exactly fit in with all the other wives and girlfriends. It’s a formal do, suits and ties. My men will be the most handsome there. They’ll be home soon, so I’d better go and make sure everything is ready for them.

Dear Diary,

Please accept my apologies for not scribing a word in you for almost a month.

You’re not the only thing I’ve neglected of late. Shane and then Dick saw fit to have a Daddy to boy talk with me on Friday gone. I’ve written a chapter detailing the events leading up to their chats with YT. I leave you with it as I go off to prepare Sunday lunch. I have a chicken corpse to cook and veg to peel. A houseboy’s work is never done. Ta-ra for now.

Winter seems to have dominated the calendar this year, staying later than his span at the beginning and returning early towards the end. His first significant strike came on the day Lee asked me to hit the town with him and Dave. It gave me the excuse I needed to decline the invitation.

The day had been cold to begin with. There was a generous cast of frost over the morning landscape. It warmed a little as the day wore on, but by late afternoon the temperature plummeted again and it began to snow accompanied by an escalating breeze. I called Lee and said local train services had been cancelled due to blizzard warnings. I had no idea if it was true or not. It didn’t sit easy with me. He sounded disappointed. I apologised and made a promise to catch up with him another time.

The men folk arrived home and went off to ablute and prepare for their Masonic shindig. I couldn’t be bothered to cook for myself. I wasn’t much hungry anyway. I poured a glass of milk, made a round of ham sandwiches, stuck some salted crisps on the side and took them into the lounge to eat, curling up on the couch to watch telly.

Dick was ready first and came into the lounge looking sartorially splendid in his suit.

“Is that all you’re having for dinner, a sandwich?” He tweaked my hair and then leaned over the back of the couch to pinch a crisp from my plate.

“I had a good lunch. I took mum out.”

“How is she?”

I shrugged and he gave my shoulder a squeeze of sympathy. “What are your plans for tonight?”

The question annoyed me, which was unfair. I hadn’t mentioned the invitation from Lee, so Dick had no idea I’d turned it down. I snapped a reply. “What do you think I’m doing? Same as I do most nights, staying in.” I dropped my half eaten sandwich on the plate.

“What’s wrong, hun? Are you pissed because we’re going out without you tonight? There are plenty of events coming up when we’ll all go out together. The Masonic Ball is next month. We’ve got you a ticket.”

“Wonderful. I’ll start shopping for a fancy frock straightaway.” I stood up, gathered my plate and glass and took them into the kitchen. Dick followed.

“What’s bothering you? Tell me.”

“Lee asked me to go out with him Dave and Ben tonight, but I said no.”

He didn’t ask why. He didn’t have to. “So you’re going to sit in all evening brooding. Honestly, Gilli. They’re your friends. Confide in them. Give them the opportunity to support you.”

I slung the remains of the milk down the sink and the sandwich in the bin, clattering glass and plate into the washing up bowl. I turned to face him, folding my arms tight across my chest. “I want to go out and have a drink and a laugh with them not invite their pity and embarrassment.”

“You can have a drink, it just has to be a soft drink. You can still have fun.

Change your mentality.”

“I bet you and Shane won’t be quaffing soft drinks tonight.”

His face darkened. “Don’t start down that road again. It leads nowhere good.”

Fuck it. I felt like living dangerously. I took the full plunge. “I want to renegotiate terms, just for over Christmas.” The words came out in a rush. “An occasional drink, a single pint, a glass of wine, so I can feel part of things like everyone else.”

His reaction was swift and ruthless.

“Hard limits are nonnegotiable with no concession to the season. Write that for me this evening, Gillibran. Fifty times so it sinks in.”

I was stunned, and angry. “You have to be joking, for asking?”

“One hundred times.”

“Fuck you, Dick, and fuck Christmas. I’m not doing it.” I stalked past him, or tried to. He took a firm grip of my arm.

“One hundred and fifty. If you want to make it three hundred lines then open your rude mouth again and I’ll oblige.”

I pressed my lips tight together, giving a stiff nod when he asked if I was done.

“Good.”

Raising his hand he brought it down across my bottom with a resounding thwack, making me jut my hips forward in a most undignified manner.

“Don’t ask again. It’s Latin, a dead language, we know it exists, but we don’t speak it in day to day life.” He released my arm. “Write the lines when we go out, put them on my desk when you’re finished. I’ll check them over in the morning. Miss so much as a letter and I’ll double them tomorrow.”

He put his hands in his pockets, looking more elegant than ever. Despite my anger with him I felt a stir of arousal.

“Shane has enough on his mind tonight so I’ll take full responsibility and keep this exchange between the two of us, but if you raise the issue again I’ll involve him, understand?”

I nodded and walked out of the kitchen, adjusting the crotch of my trousers before returning to the lounge to stare at the TV set while inwardly seething.

Shane was speaking at the dinner and was too preoccupied going over his notes to notice my tension. Once they’d gone I located a pad of A4 and set about the loathsome task of line writing making sure to write the full amount in a passable script. Dick was getting tough in his old age. I didn’t want to risk a double dose.

When I was done I put them on his desk and then plucked a tub of Haagen-Dazs vanilla from the freezer. I comfort ate the entire pot while texting Lee and Dave to ask how their night was going, taking part by proxy. As the evening wore on they got too merry to text and sent me photos and videos instead. They were well ratted, eyes rolling in all directions and speaking a language understandable only to fellow drunks.

I was envious.

Shane was working next morning so I got up to make his breakfast. It was bitter cold again with a gruel thin layer of snow on the ground. Shane grumbled as the radio weather presenter forecast it thickening over the course of the day.

“The roads will be bloody murder. The council is never prepared for early snow.”

“I’m sure the main roads will have been gritted.” I put a bowl of hot creamy porridge in front of him.

“Let’s hope you’re right.” He picked up his spoon and dug in.

I made coffee and toast and put them on the table and then sat down to eat my breakfast.

Before leaving for work he told me he was eating with Leo that evening as they had some business to discuss. I saw him to the door and told him to drive carefully.

He kissed me and said he always drove carefully.

I heard Dick get up and begin moving about. I put the kettle on to make tea. When he came into the kitchen he was carrying my punishment lines. He tore them in half and then half again and held out the scraps. “Put them in the bin.”

I did as instructed.

He studied me for a moment. “Do you need to talk about last night, Gilli?”

“I thought you said the subject was Latin?”

“The subject is, but your feelings aren’t. I’m well aware that Christmas poses a fresh challenge. It’s going to be tough watching other people drinking when you can’t. I can help you deal with it.”

“How, by slipping me a vodka and lime on the quiet? You could inject me with it so it doesn’t count as actual drinking.”

“Stop it!”

“How do you feel about me taking up social smoking instead of drinking, or maybe even snorting a line or two of cocaine? I know a bloke back home who can get me some.”

“I said stop it! Shane is not the only man who can wield a cane in this house.”

The depth of his annoyance was revealed by his accent. The more annoyed he is the posher it gets.

“I’m sorry, Dick, but I don’t see how you can help.”

“I can support you. If you’re feeling angry, unhappy or frustrated then say so.

Don’t tighten the valve on negative feelings. Let the steam out. Express them. If you feel like decking me then say the words.
Dick, I’m so angry I want to punch your
fucking face in.
There’s no need to say why. We know why. I won’t discuss the rule, but I can help you cope with the feelings arising from it. I can comfort you until the resentment passes. I can do things with you, go for a walk, do a jigsaw puzzle.”

“We don’t have any jigsaws.”

“I’ll buy some.”

“I hate jigsaws.”

“Behave, Gil. The point I’m making is you’re not alone. I’m here and so is Shane.

Talk to us. Use us. We’ll do whatever needs to be done to help you ride the wave. We can give you a kiss, a hug, sex or even a spanking. A spanking often calms you when you’re wound tight, Gilli. It’s cathartic. It allows you the release you don’t allow yourself.”

“I like the release of sex better.”

He held out his hand. “Sex it is.”

“What about breakfast?”

“Breakfast can wait.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as he made a grab, swinging me up into his arms saying he was going to take me to bed and ravish me.

And ravish me he did with missionary style sex. After lubing me he lifted my legs towards my head, raising my arse to the perfect position to receive his cock. He fucked me with firm steady strokes building heat and friction, which I added to by clenching my sphincter around his cock, drawing it deeper within me, enjoying the sensation. Grasping my penis I began pulling on it in time to his thrusts trying to match the pace of them, judging the approach of his orgasm. I wanted to climax with him or as close to it as I could get. He threw back his head and gave a lusty shout of satisfied pleasure as his balls unloaded inside me. Seconds later I reached orgasm, tightening my sphincter still harder around his cock, milking the last drops of cum from it as my own erupted onto my stomach and chest.

We cuddled for a while afterwards, neither of us speaking. I felt calm and close to him both in a physical and emotional sense. He was my man and I loved him, no complications.

We slumbered for half an hour and then got up. We showered and dressed. I made breakfast. Like Shane he grumbled about the weather, but still decided to play a round of golf. He’s tenacious is Dick. He dug out his winter golf balls, yellow instead of white and set off.

I washed the pots and decided to work outside. My post sex sense of calm was evaporating. I felt in need of physical occupation. It was bitter cold out, my breath hanging clouds in the air. The pond was clogged with more dead leaves, but there was nothing I could do seeing as they were frozen to its surface. I would have to wait until they thawed before skimming them.

I hung nets of fat balls in tree branches, filled the bird feeders and scattered mealworms on the bird table for my pal Robin. He flew down immediately and began to tuck in, looking handsome against the snowy background, his red breast glowing. I spoke a few words to him, but he told me to beat it, he was eating. (Lie Detector says NO!) Oh all right he didn’t say a word, but he cocked his head on one side and glared at me in a manner suggestive of beat it.