Christmas At Leo's - Memoirs Of A Houseboy (29 page)

“No need.”

“Sure? I don’t mind.”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

Everyone knew something had gone down between us, but they didn’t know what. I wasn’t going to confess to throwing the missile with intent and Vince wasn’t going to confess to what he’d done to make me want to throw it.

Shane’s displeasure was evident in his face and tone of voice. “Pick that sweet up at once, before it melts. Dispose of it. If the rug is stained you’ll pay for it to be cleaned.”

I hastened to do as bidden, using the sleeve of my top to brush away the powdery brown residue on the beautiful Indian rug. Thankfully, it left no stain, not on the rug at least, my sleeve was a different story. I then disposed of the sweet by eating it. It was a misguided action.

The chocolate turned bitter in my mouth at the look I saw on Shane’s face. It was intense; his eyes smouldering like batteries on a bonfire, signifying real and present danger. I’d offended not only his sense of hygiene, but also his sense of order. In his view, eating the sweet instead of binning it was cocking a snook, a final and not to be tolerated show of wilful disrespect.

I swallowed the chocolate, saying a feeble, “seemed a shame to waste it.”

Shane pointed at the floor next to Dick’s feet, issuing a cold, quiet instruction. “Kneel there, boy.”

I knelt where indicated, trying to look unconcerned. Shane sat down, penning me between his and Dick’s feet. After a few minutes, I attempted to move into a more comfortable cross-legged sitting position. Shane physically returned me to a kneeling position, roughly arranging my hands on my knees before pushing my head forward, so I was in a classic head down submissive pose.

I stared at my hands and knees fighting tears of humiliation. It wasn’t the over the knee discipline I’d feared, but it was discipline none the less. I wanted to jump up and flee, but I knew Shane wouldn’t hesitate to fetch me back. His stance was clear. He had given me every opportunity to submit to his authority with discretion. I had chosen instead to defy him at every turn with my attitude. Therefore the only option was enforced submission, and he didn’t care who witnessed it.

Chapter Fourteen - Echoes and Shadows

My kneeling predicament had no noticeable effect on the festive ambience. The party carried on, so to speak, with talk and laughter. I became less aware of the presence of the others. All my senses were trained on the two men whose feet I was caged between. Tension made every muscle in my body ache. If I moved even the slightest degree, Shane would physically return me to his favoured position, kneeling neatly with my bottom on my heels and my hands on my knees, a reminder of his authority and my duty to it. If I raised my head to look around, he pushed it back down, so that all I had were my hands and knees to contemplate.

When he left the room to use the facilities, I gave an inward sigh of relief. Sliding off my heels, I sat sideways, taking my weight on my hip instead of my aching bum.

Dick immediately leaned down to me, murmuring. “Kneel up, boy, and be still.”

There was no kindness in his voice, no softness in his face, no hint that he had any sympathy for me. His rare use of the term ‘boy’ indicated exactly what his sentiments were with regard to me. I resumed the desired pose at once. Over the course of the past year, Dick had proven his ability to be a strict Alpha Daddy when he felt the occasion called for it. It was clear he was pissed off with me. I did not dare challenge his authority for fear he’d emulate Shane and dole out a dose of public discipline.

Shane returned. The evening ticked on. Dick picked up his guitar again and entertained by playing and singing seasonal songs. He didn’t ask me to sing. Closing my eyes, I honed in on the chords and his voice, utilising the breathing techniques I’d been taught, in an effort to calm my mind, relax my body and find acceptance in my situation. Some of the tension left my muscles and my pose felt more meditative than punitive, to a degree.

Pat was first to retire to bed, begging forgiveness for his lack of stamina and joking about needing his beauty sleep more than most. He thanked us all for a lovely Christmas Eve, dispensing goodnight wishes along with kisses for the ‘court elders.’

Vince was next to go, though not entirely by choice. His imbibing over the course of the day had begun to tell. He declared a need for the bathroom, staggering when he got to his feet, almost landing on Mike’s lap.

“Whoa,” Mike held out a steadying hand, “someone’s had enough. The bar is closed for you, Vinny boy.”

Vince giggled and swayed, slurring, “I’m fine. Gilli’s the one on the floor.” He giggled again. “And he hasn’t even had a drink, not one tiny little drink, and I know why.” He paused, as if for dramatic effect.

I tensed all over again, my hard won calm destroyed, as I waited for him to say something about epilepsy, in which case I’d have to jump up and thump him.

Leo interrupted by addressing Jak. “Take Vince upstairs, there’s a good lad. He’s had enough to drink. Put him to bed, let him sleep it off.”

“Come on, Vin. You’ve had enough wobble juice. You don’t want to be wrecked tomorrow.” Jak jumped up and grasped his friend’s arm, towing him towards the door.

“I’ll make a pot of tea.” Leo rose to his feet and began stacking together the empty snack bowls. “Who wants one?”

“Not for us, Leo.” Shane reached for his whisky glass, finishing off the last dregs, setting the glass back on the coffee table. We’ll all get off to bed as well. It’s been a long day.” He tapped my shoulder. “Get up. Say goodnight to Leo and Mike.”

I obeyed him to the letter. Lumbering to my feet as fast as my cramped limbs allowed, I snipped, “goodnight to Leo and Mike,” before taking a brisk, if rather tottery walk towards the lounge door.

“Sorry, gents.” Dick apologised for me. “He’s tired I’m afraid. He’s always churlish when he’s tired.”

“Childish and tiresome more like,” said Leo.

“Yes, that too,” said Dick dryly.

Leo called after me. “Sleep well, Gillibrat. Try and get out of the right side of the bed tomorrow. We don’t want another day of tantrums, not on Christmas Day.”

I mentally raised two fingers, making a silent curse.
Fuck you, Leo, fuck you, fuck you.
Striding up the hall, I took the stairs two at a time.

Jak was on the landing. He smirked. “I see you’ve been allowed up off your knees. Did you do much praying while you were down there?”

I responded by voicing doubt about his paternal legitimacy. “Bastard!”

“Dear me, such temper. What you need is a nice beer or two to relax and calm you down,” he pulled a sad face, “ but of course you can’t. Poor you.”

Shoving him down the stairs wasn’t an option. I flipped him the bird and walked past him.

In the bedroom, I took off my shoes and sat down on the edge of the big bed, pushing my hands through my hair. I was tired, exhausted in fact, but not in a looking forward to sleep kind of way. I was wound too tight. Standing up, I dragged off my hoodie top, halting as the door opened and Shane and Dick came in.

Disguising my nerves behind a show of brash nonchalance, I balled up my top and tossed it on the floor alongside my shoes. Shane’s voice cracked like a whip, making me jump.

“Pick it up.”

“It’s dirty.”

“It still doesn’t belong on the floor. Pick it up. Now.”

I did as told, draping it over the end of the bed.

Shane fixed me with a baleful look. “What was that disgraceful business with the truffle about? Seriously, how old are you, throwing food around. What is your problem with Vince?”

“He’s a prick.” I shuffled my feet defensively, feeling all of thirteen years old again, and hauled in front of the headmaster for hurling a half eaten burger at Dylan Atkins one Monday lunch break. I’d been enthusing about some video game I was obsessed with and had been playing over the weekend. Dylan had mocked me, pulling a disgusted face, drawling,
‘oh my god, no one plays that anymore, you are so gay.’
And of course I was gay, though he didn’t know it. No one did. It was still my deep dark secret. Dylan’s use of the word as a slur incensed me. It confirmed all I feared. Gay was bad and I would never be accepted as a ‘normal’ person. My temper snapped. I set my lunch free. The burger bounced off his face and cost me a week of solitary lunchtime detentions.

“For heaven’s sake, Gilli.” Dick frowned, annoyance etched deep in his face. “You made an enemy of Vince in less than a heartbeat. What the hell is wrong with you? You’re the same with Jak. Why can’t you be friends with them? They’re both pleasant and easy enough to get along with.”

“Pleasant to you maybe, but not to me. Vince snubbed me the moment he met me.”

“You see slights where there are none. It’s ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous am I? Well, excuse me for being so gay!” I turned on him. “I did say it would be better if I stayed at home.”

“I think you might have been right.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not too late. I can soon call a taxi.”

“There you go again, being melodramatic and difficult. Why must you always run counter to everyone else?”

“Why is it that I’m always found fault with, eh? You weren’t here when Vince arrived. You didn’t see the way he treated me. It was obvious Jak had primed him to dislike me.”

Dick swept a despairing hand through his hair. “You’re paranoid. It’s a trait indicative of your class.”

The statement jolted me like a slap. Dick had never raised the matter of my class, not in such a bald way. “My class! What the fucking hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Reading something into nothing. You do it all the time. You’re always thinking people are against you when they’re not.”

“It’s no wonder I’m paranoid. Neither of you show any faith in me. You should have stuck up for me earlier tonight when Leo singled me out as the person most likely to offend Pat. I was embarrassed. You should be willing to hear my side of events with Jak and Vince, but you’d rather believe I’m in the wrong and causing trouble for the sake of it. You let Leo say some horrible things about me, like telling Pat I’m some kind of experiment.”

“Leo teases you, but there’s no malice intended. Most of the time he bends over backwards to accommodate you, and gets scant reward for it. You’ve ruined today with your wearisome attitude, you really have.”

I glanced at Shane. “It hasn’t been a bundle of fun for me either. In fact, it’s been torture.”

Shane’s face stayed granite. “You deserved everything you got today, and more. If not for the risk of disturbing Pat, I’d give you a good hard paddling right now. It isn’t ruled out for tomorrow morning.”

“Too kind,” I muttered under my breath.

“What did you say? Speak up.”

“Nothing, I was clearing my throat, that’s all.” I doubted he believed me, but he let it go anyway.

“Your brief was to please me, but you’ve made no effort. You’ve remained determined to focus on some private agenda.” He turned to Dick. “Get ready for bed, sweetheart, you look worn out.”

Dick nodded and disappeared into the bathroom.

“You, come with me.” Taking my arm, Shane walked me over to the window alcove. After closing the blinds and curtains, he pulled the chair out from beneath the writing desk and roughly seated me. Scrunching up the lines I’d written earlier, he tossed them in the wastebasket and got a fresh batch of paper. He wrote a sentence and handed me the pen. “Twenty times. Raise your hand when you’re finished.” He walked away.

I stared at the sentence he had written:
Daddy is so disappointed in me. I must set aside personal considerations and try much, much harder to please him.

It was several minutes before my eyes cleared enough to begin writing. It was a long sentence and writing it twenty times would have taken time ordinarily. I eked it out even longer by writing in a slow, neat script, reluctant to re-engage with the men folk, especially Dick. He had hurt me with his irritable criticism. It was becoming a pattern. I felt abandoned by my once constant ally.

As I wrote, I could hear Dick and Shane moving around the room, preparing for bed. Shane made a return journey to the desk, holding out a glass of water and my medication with an instruction for me to take it at once. I did so and he disappeared again. The mattress creaked as they climbed into bed. Dick gave a soft laugh, as if Shane had whispered some sweet thing in his ear. Jealousy poked a vicious finger in my gut. All I’d had whispered in my ear all day had been threats.

I reached the required number of lines, placing the final full stop. I should have raised my hand, but didn’t.

Shane must have known I was no longer writing, that I’d completed the task, but he said nothing. He was waiting for me to do as he had commanded, and raise my hand, to show surrender to his will. I was too conflicted, divided between wanting to please him and wanting to fight him. I twiddled with the pen, feeling agitated and tearful. The writing desk became a railway station where I sat fretful and uncertain of what train to get on.

The low murmur of conversation in the bedroom died away. I guessed one or perhaps even both of them had fallen asleep. I didn’t turn around to find out. Resting an elbow on the desk, I leaned my head against my hand.