Christmas At Leo's - Memoirs Of A Houseboy (15 page)

“Don’t, darling, please. You’re going to make it bleed.”

I started as Dick pushed my hand away from my mouth. I hadn’t even realised I’d started chewing at my thumbnail again.

“Sorry.” I tucked my hands under my armpits to try and keep them safe from my teeth.

“Do you know why Christmas make you sad?”

I shrugged. “You know me, Dick. I take forever to adjust to things. I haven’t got over finding out the truth about Santa. It nearly killed me. I had to have counselling until I was nineteen, and then there was the bombshell about the tooth fairy. Following on from the news about Sooty and Sweep just being hand puppets, it was more than I could bear.”

“Bad boy, with your jokes and smart answers. The thing is I can almost believe it. You were born a sensitive soul, Gilli, too sensitive. I’ve watched you turn yourself inside out agonising over things most people shrug off. You find it hard to move out of negative emotional states. You allow them to control you. You hone in and dwell on whatever is paining you instead of letting it go.”

“Yeah? Well right now my arse is paining me. I wish I could let it go.” Tears stung my eyes. “The cane was wet. He laid it on full force.”

“It was to make the stroke count and get your full attention. I know how painful it will have been.” He held out his arms. “May I comfort you?”

It was sweet the way he said it, and I wanted his comfort, but my contrary aspect was in ascendancy. I shook my head. “You mustn’t fuss me, isn’t that what he said.” As if to back me up Shane’s voice called an instruction from downstairs.

“Dick! Gilli! Let’s get going. Make sure everything is secure up there.”

“You go, honey. Don’t keep Daddy waiting. He’s on your case I’m afraid. I’ll check everything up here.” He brushed his forefinger against my cheek. “I’ll see you in the car. Don’t worry so much about Leo’s. You enjoyed the Masons ball once you were actually there.”

“It was all right, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say I ‘enjoyed’ it.”

“Awkward man. Go.” He turned me towards the door and gave me a little push.

Shane was in the hall, waiting to set the alarm system. He handed me a stack of coats, his, Dick’s and mine. “Take those and get in the car.”

I did as I was told, climbing into the back of the car behind the passenger seat. Shane’s car is luxurious with comfortable leather seats, but even so they did nothing to cushion my backside. There was no way of avoiding the stripe he’d laid with expert precision across my sit spot.

The men folk got in the car and we set off. I began chewing on my fingernails; safe in the knowledge Dick couldn’t see me. I was sitting behind him and he didn’t have eyes in the back of his head. Shane did, though, or at least he had eyes in his rear view mirror and he wasn’t just using them to watch the road.

“Get your fingers out of your mouth and stop wriggling around as if you’ve got worms.”

“I can’t get comfortable.”

“Tough. Act like a man instead of an overgrown five year old.”

Fuck you, Shane!
I kept the words to myself, tucked my hands out of reach under my pits and glared out of the car window without seeing what was beyond it. I concentrated my thoughts on Christmas, but not the present one. I went back over the one when I’d been sixteen.

On the day itself, I got up late. The house was empty. Frank and my mother had left without bothering to wake me. Easier I suppose. There were a couple of presents for me under the tree, but I didn’t open them. I knew they were stocking filler kind of gifts, such as a toiletry gift set and a chocolate selection box. My main present that year was my first passport. Lee’s family was planning a summer holiday to Spain and I’d been invited to go with them, hence the need for a passport. I was thrilled with it. The whole process of obtaining it had made me feel grown up and important. I’d never been abroad and I was really looking forward to it. I was saving up hard, using money earned from an evening paper round and a Saturday job in a supermarket.

In addition to paying for the passport, mum also bought me a new pair of jeans and a Green Day t-shirt. It was as much as she could afford, and it was enough. Not having a big family meant I received relatively few gifts. The Morrisons never bothered, not for me anyway. They bought mum stuff, but it was like I didn’t exist. Lee’s parents had given me a W.H.Smith gift voucher so I could choose a book or music of my choice.

Christmas is best when you’re little and you still have a belief in Father Christmas and all things magical. I can still remember the anticipation and excitement of Christmas Eve and the sheer thrill of coming down in the early hours of Christmas morning and seeing a pile of presents under the tree and my stocking packed with goodies. I’d yell upstairs,
‘mam, mam, he’s been, he’s been!’
Everything was a wonder, every toy and book. I think mum used to pay a few pounds into a Christmas toy club every week during the year so she could splurge on Christmas presents for me. She always used to say that Christmas was for kids rather than adults.

At sixteen, standing alone in that silent house I felt crushed by something akin to grief as I realised my childhood was over. The belief was shattered and the magic long gone. The thing is, I wasn’t ready to leave my childhood behind. I was too scared of what lay ahead of me. It was over though, certainly as far as my mother was concerned. I was no longer a child in her eyes, hence her willingness to abandon me on the day. She chose to be with Frank’s family rather than me. It cut me to the core.

Mum had left a Christmas dinner all plated up and ready to stick in the microwave. I didn’t eat it. After having a good cry, I forwent food in favour of getting stuck into Frank’s Christmas stock of booze. I only meant to have one or two, but ended up downing lagers and beers like there was no tomorrow. I was palatic drunk in next to no time. It did me no good. Initial jollity soon wore off. Alcohol fuelled my anger and upset. I threw the dinner at the kitchen wall and then threw my guts up on the kitchen floor. I managed to crawl upstairs to my room before being sick again and then passing out.

Frank was furious about me getting pissed on his booze and vomiting everywhere. There was a huge row next day. I offered to pay for the beers using some of the money I’d saved from my little jobs. He took the money, while still calling me a useless thieving waster. I called him a fucking ignorant wanker and wished him dead. For the first time he went for me in a physical sense, grabbing the front of my top, balling his meaty fist ready to drive it into my face. I’d have welcomed him punching me. It would be the perfect excuse to punch him back, or try to. He was bigger and much stockier than me. Mum intervened, grabbing at his arm, screaming at him to stop.

It was the beginning of the end. Less than two months later, during yet another push and shove row, he told me to get my filthy queer arse out of his house or he’d kick the living shit out of me and he wouldn’t care if he did time for it. I looked to my mother, but she didn’t exactly fight my corner. She said she was sick of all the fighting and broke down crying. Frank accused me of making her ill and repeated his instruction for me to get out of
his
house or he’d beat me to a bloody pulp.

I ran upstairs and shoved a collection of stuff in a backpack. Downstairs again, I lingered in the hallway on the pretence of putting on my coat. I think I was hoping Mum would rally to me. She didn’t say a word. Her silence confirmed she no longer had any real attachment to me. The crack in our relationship widened to a chasm. The rift was complete.

I walked out of the house, determined never to go back. I was Gillibran Brown of no fixed abode, sixteen years old and scared half to death.

“Would you like a mint, hun, or a butterscotch?”

Dick interrupted my trip back to Christmas past, poking his head between the seats to offer me a travel sweet.

I shook my head. I didn’t want a sweet, but the interruption was welcome, staving off the ubiquitous tears I’d felt welling.

“Sure?”

“I’m sure, Dick, thanks.”

“You getting a cold, babe? You sound snuffly.”

“I’m fine.”

“Turn around, Dick. Stop pandering to him.”

The words hit a nerve. Frank had been fond of telling my mother not to pander to me, no matter what the circumstances, if I was ill or upset, anything. Left to him I’d have died from meningitis when I was fourteen. The last clear memory I have of the event is of him telling mum to ignore my pathetic whining when I complained of a bad headache and the light hurting my eyes.

I spat a response at Shane. “He was offering me a sweet, for Christ’s sake, how is that pandering? It’s not like he offered to shove it up his arse and spit it out of his mouth unwrapped and half sucked for me.”

Shane didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. The temperature in the car dropped by several degrees. I caught a glance of his face. My shitty manner was noted if not commented on.

We reached Leo’s palatial residence, sweeping up the long drive and parking in front of the garage block. Like Eileen’s house, his front door had a festive wreath adorning it, only a more lavish one. I doubted he’d crafted it himself. Two potted fir trees adorned each side of the columned porch. They were decorated with multicoloured lights. White lights were woven through the garden topiary. It would all look beautiful once darkness fell.

Even Leo’s cat, Genny, was lit up for Christmas. She was wearing a sumptuous red velvet collar studded with twinkling green lights. She came running down the staircase as we entered the house, calling a raucous Siamese greeting. Leo also came to greet us, smiling a welcome. He embraced and kissed first Shane and then Dick. I tried to move out of his reach, but was embraced in my turn.

“Mike’s in the conservatory having coffee, go and join him. It’s freshly made. Cups are on the table. Help yourselves. Jak will be along soon. He’s got a friend joining him later as well, Vince.”

“That name rings a bell,” said Shane. “Have I met him?”

“Couple of weeks ago. He was here when you called in with some papers.”

“New sub, white blond hair?”

“That’s the one.”

My heart dropped like a rock down a well. Fucking wonderful. I was in for a prolonged sleepover with Jak and his friend. My gob opened and delivered a savage riposte. “Great. It’ll be just like a festive film - Christmas with the Wanks!”

“Oh, Gilli, Gilli.” Leo gave an exaggerated sigh, raised his eyes heavenward and then leaned toward me and wagged a finger. “Do try to be a good little boy or Santa Claus won’t leave you any presents. He doesn’t approve of naughty children who spoil things for others because they don’t know how to behave.”

Thrusting my face towards his, I snarled. “You’ve got plenty of dildos, why don’t you go fuck yourself with one? Stick one in your big trap as well and I hope it chokes you.”

I got the shock of my life as Shane seized hold of my upper arm. Yanking me sideways, he walloped my arse twice before barking an order.

“Apologise to Leo at once.”

Mortified, I tried to pull away from him, but to no avail. He kept a tight grip on me.

“I said apologise.”

He slapped my backside again. It stung, but the sting was nothing in comparison to the sheer humiliation of being smacked in front of Leo. My entire body was suffused with flames of shame. Another harsh slap along with a threat to put me over his knee and deal with me properly, prompted me to blurt the requested apology in Leo’s direction. “I’m sorry, okay, I’m sorry.”

He nodded a cool acceptance of the apology.

“Our usual room is it, Leo?”

“Of course, Shane. It’s all ready.”

“You go and have coffee, Dick. Gilli and I will unpack the car.”

The ball of anger in my gut was bouncing. The moment Shane let go of my arm, I made a lunge for the front door, wrenching it open. “Unpack it yourself. I’m going. You can all fuck off to hell!”

“Oh, Gilli, please, sweetheart, do calm down.”

Dick, visibly distressed, tried to take my hand, but I shook him off. I didn’t manage to evade Shane. Grabbing the hood of my top he yanked me back inside and closed the front door. I immediately shed the top, slipping my arms out of it, leaving him holding it. Undaunted, he cast it aside and made another grab for me, catching me by the scruff of the neck before I could reopen the door. Twisting my arms behind me, he frogmarched me towards the staircase. I tried to hinder him by digging in my heels.

Leo addressed Dick, his voice sounding a note of approval.

“Leave Shane to fight it out with the boy. He’s obviously in a tizzy and needs calming down. Come and have a coffee. Come on, Dick. Stop fretting. Shane will deal with him.”

Hooking an arm around my body, Shane all but lugged me up the stairs.

“How could you, how could you do that?” I tried to twist free of his grip as he bundled me into the bedroom. “You had no right to humiliate me in front of that arrogant tosser. No fucking right!”

“I have
every
right to discipline you as and when I see fit. You bad mannered, foul tempered little scullion.”

Hustling me over to the bed, he sat down on it. It seemed his choice of jeans had not only been for my comfort. The stretchy ribbed waistband meant he could pull them down in a trice without fiddling on with button and zipper.