Gilliflowers (29 page)

“The only awkward thing around here is you.” A thoughtful look passed over Shane’s face. “Does Lee know?”

“Know what, that I’m gay, yes. He was the first person I told after my mother. He took it better than her. At least he was prepared to talk about it, she wasn’t.”

“Does he know you suffer from epilepsy?”

“Look, do you want coffee or not, because I need to be getting on. I’ve got the dining room to clear and pots to wash.”

“They can wait a while longer. I asked you a question.”

I didn’t reply, concentrating on picking at a thread of dry skin around my thumbnail.

“Gilli?”

“What?”

“Does he know?”

“Why should he know? It’s hardly a fucking bragging right is it? It’s not like having a twelve-inch dick or a brand new sports car. You don’t tout it around like a trophy.”

“You should tell him,” said Dick, “explain it’s why you no longer drink.”

“The only reason I no longer drink is because you,” I divided an angry look between them, “have ruled I can’t.”

“Just tell him, Gilli,” Dick used his tone of infinite patience, “he’ll understand.”

“Understand what, that I’m gay AND have weird brain episodes. It’s like being double dammed. I’d sooner confess to being a flesh-eating zombie.”

“He’s your friend. He won’t think any less of you.”

“For being a zombie, no, for being teetotal, yes. It’s so not cool.”

“Don’t be absurd!” Shane abandoned all illusion of patience.

“I’m not telling him! It’s bad enough you two telling all and fucking sundry that I have a brain abnormality. It’s my business and I don’t want everyone knowing it, especially not Lee. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“There’s no more talking needed. You’re going to the party. You have no choice in the matter. I’m not allowing you to hole up and hide out at home. You’ve got to get used to life without alcohol. You can make the coffee now. Come on, Dick. Leave him to it.”

“It won’t be as bad as you think.” Dick dropped a kiss on my head. “Once you’re there you’ll be fine, you’ll enjoy it.” He headed after Shane.

Bastards, both of them were insensitive rotten bastards. I used my shirt cuffs to blot the water squeezing insistently out of my tear ducts. My angry frustration wasn’t solely about being denied something I enjoyed. The ban was a forced acknowledgment, a nod to something I hated. No way did I want to make it public by going to Lee’s party and sipping soft drinks all night while explaining it was because my brain was likely to fizz and pop like a bottle of shaken lemonade if I had a few beers and my bossy boyfriends would keelhaul me as a result. I didn’t want my old mates, especially Lee, feeling sorry for me. I wanted to remain his equal.

I hadn’t even told my mother about the episodes getting more frequent. I’d let her believe I’d grown out of them since leaving home and no longer had them at all. I’d always felt my having them added to the disappointment she felt at having me for a son. Pulling myself together I set about the business of coffee making.

By next morning I’d reluctantly resigned myself to going to the party. Dick was right. I’d regret not attending and feel bad about it. Lee was a good friend, he’d been loyal to me and it was my turn to be loyal to him. Maybe, like Dick said, I’d enjoy it once I was there.

Shane issued a reminder before leaving for work. “Don’t forget to take your meds with you tonight, Gilli.”

“There’s no need. I’m not staying over.”

His face darkened with annoyance. “You told us you were. I wouldn’t have arranged to stay at Leo’s if I’d known.”

“There’s no point me staying if I’m stone cold sober. Knowing Lee and Dave they’ll be flat out until at least noon after a night on the beer. I’ll be sitting twiddling my thumbs. I’ll get the last train home at eleven. I’ll take a tablet when I get in.”

“You won’t get back until at least half past twelve if not later. It's due well before then, it’s best to be consistent. Take them with you.”

“You’re determined everyone should know what a loser I am. I’m not popping AED’s in the middle of a party.”

“I’m not asking you to make a general announcement about it. You can be discreet, and get a taxi to Leo’s from the station tonight. Book it before you set off.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m telling you to.”

“For fuck’s sake, Shane! I can get through one night on my own. What do you think I’m going to do, run a bath in my sleep and then have an episode and drown in it? Or maybe you don’t trust me not to have a drink and want to check up on me.

What are you going to do, breathalyse me when I get back?”

He ignored the comment. “I’ll see you later. Try to enjoy the party.”

“How can I enjoy it when I can’t have a drink.”

“Shut up and put up, Gilli. If you want to grumble then go do it in those diaries you’re so fond of scribbling in. I’m sick of hearing you complain.” He placed a firm kiss on my lips and headed for his car. I closed the front door just short of a slam.

Dick dismissed my moans about being told to go to Leo’s. He called me an ungrateful brat claiming Shane just wanted to make sure I was all right and there were people around if needed. Following Shane’s example he issued an irritating instruction for me to enjoy the party before leaving for work.

“How can I? I’ll be the only homosexual there for a start, unless one of the bar staff turns out to be gay. I’ll have to pretend to be butch to fit in, no fingering the flower arrangements and criticising the cloths on the buffet tables.”

He grinned and lightly pinched my cheek, teasing, “you’re so sweet when you pout.” He bent to kiss me. “Love you, hun. Be good. See you later.”

I shouted after him. “If there is another gay bloke there I’m going to run off with him!” He waved a jaunty hand by way of reply.

It was good to see Lee. I hadn’t seen him in the flesh for a while and since taking up with Bethany he was less available on other mediums. He must have been looking out for me because he hailed me and came to greet me as soon as I walked into the main party room, shaking my hand and slapping my shoulder, the straight man’s equivalent of a hug in a public place. He suggested we sojourn to a quieter side bar for a drink. His face when I requested a coke was a picture. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”

I claimed I was pacing myself and would have a pint later. We sat at the bar chatting. He thanked me for the cheque saying Bethany had been delighted and they were putting it towards their wedding fund. I asked if they’d set a date and he shrugged and said he was leaving all that to Beth. She wanted something special and had her sights set on a lavish wedding at a ritzy country house hotel followed by a honeymoon at some fashionable resort. It would take a bit of saving for. He didn’t sound overly enthusiastic, but I didn’t probe.

The lady herself soon put in an appearance, looking slightly cross, though she tried to hide it. I congratulated her, told her she looked beautiful and then made noises of awed admiration when she showed off her large diamond solitaire engagement ring. I was graciously forgiven for
‘taking Lee and hiding away with him.’
I didn’t quite know what to make of the remark. Maybe she thought I had designs on him and was hoping to lure him away from her.

Tucking her arm firmly through Lee’s she lead us back to the main function room where Lee insistently bought me a pint of Stella. Fortunately Bethany dragged him off to greet some of her friends who were just arriving. I somehow found enough willpower to abandon Stella on a random table regretfully untouched, feeling a fresh wave of angry resentment as I did so. It was no longer a case of au revoir between she and me. It was adieu.

At first things weren’t too bad. I had a chat with Lee’s parents of whom I’m fond.

Upon learning I was gay his mum had looked at me as if I were an exotic species and said, ‘fancy that, Davy (Lee’s paternal grandfather) always said there was something different about you, Gilli love.’

When it came to difference, granddad Davy would know. Lee and I used to love visiting him on his allotment when we were kids. He didn’t do a lot of gardening and growing down there. Lee’s dad was more active in that department. Davy watered stuff and did a bit of weeding, but that was about it. In the winter he would sit in the shed and in the summer he’d sit outside of it taking his ease in an old deckchair, smoking Woodbine cigarettes while reading ‘strange’ books. Dirty books I hear you ask, porno stuff? No. I don’t mean that at all, so get your minds out of the gutter.

By strange I mean books that men of his class and generation didn’t usually aspire to read. He’d left school at a young age with a basic education and worked in the local steel works all his life, but he had a real love of literature. He’d pick up the classics from second hand bookshops, writers like E.M. Forster and George Eliot, Shakespeare, Charles Dickens and D.H. Lawrence (though admittedly some still consider the latter to be a purveyor of filth) Lee was more interested in his granddad’s big tub of hard boiled sweets and in poking around the junk filled shed than in the books he read, but I loved hearing him talk about what he was reading. He didn’t always understand what he read, but he liked the sound of the words and the flow of language. He’d read passages aloud and ask my opinion as to their meaning. Being about nine or ten I had even less clue than him, but I liked being asked. It made me feel important. I also liked that he listened to my child’s view. I had no grandparents of my own, well none that bothered with me.

Sometimes he’d find a sentence or a word particularly beguiling and after underlining it with a red pen he’d speak it out loud with a look of dreamy pleasure on his face.
‘Doesn’t that sound lovely, Gilli lad, what it must be to write down words
like that and know what they mean.’

When I think about it I probably got my love of words and reading from my forays down to granddad Davy’s allotment shed. The old man is still alive, sort of. He had a stroke a few years ago, a bad one from which he’s never really recovered. He can’t speak clearly, feed himself or walk unaided and holding a book and reading is now denied to him. They play audio books to him, but somehow I doubt they give him the same pleasure as holding a physical book and reading the words for himself with his red pen ready to highlight. Maybe there really are crueller things than death?

It makes me sad to think of him ending his days in a sterile nursing home instead of in the clutter of his beloved shed.

I also had a chat with Lee’s sister Carol and her spouse. Cass asked if
‘the hard
faced cow’
had poked my eye out with her ring yet and I said yes. She told me Lee, poor little bugger, had had to slog his guts out doing overtime to save up enough to buy it.
‘All she talks about is money, Gil,
how much this cost or how much that cost.

Our Lee is too young to be tied down to her.’ Keith grinned and said Beth had Lee well and truly by the balls and couldn’t go anywhere without her.

Lee’s brother Dave sought me out, bearing a pint with my name on it. “Come on, Gilli, get your gob round that, you can’t be standing around all night without a fucking pint in your hand. What’s wrong with you, man? I’ve never known you to be slow off the mark when it comes to drink, are you fucking gay or what.”

By then the disco had set up properly and the lights had been turned down so it was easier for me to put the drink down and ‘lose’ it. Dave also had a swipe at Bethany saying he didn’t know what the daft twat (Lee) saw in the mercenary bitch apart from her big jugs. He used his hands to illustrate the size of her chest area. I didn’t comment. It would have been disloyal to Lee to backbite about his woman.

Instead I slapped Dave up the back of the head and told him he was speaking of his future sister in law and should show more respect.

I felt a sudden sympathy for Bethany. She didn’t seem to be a big hit with Lee’s family. Her material ambitions somehow unsettled them. I knew what it felt like to be judged and found wanting. It was no one’s business what Lee saw in her or she saw in him. What they were together was the only important thing and it was their own affair.

It could well be that her substantial boobs played a vital role in Lee’s attraction.

He’s always been a breast man; most heterosexual blokes are I think. They have an inbuilt tit calculator in the same way gay men have an inbuilt cock calculator.

Bethany’s 36DD assets (estimated by Lee in tones of reverential awe when he first met her) converted to dick inches would produce a member that would sweep the floor at a tea dance and have the dance attendees salivating in fearful yet delicious anticipation.

My mother had been invited to the party. She arrived with Frank in tow and I went over to greet her and have a few words. It was as close as I got all evening. Frank immediately got my back up by sarkily asking where my granny girlfriends were.

Sticking up my middle finger I invited him to suck shit off it. Mum begged ‘don’t start’ and looked so upset that I cleared off and left them alone together. It wasn’t fair to spoil her evening with our antagonism.

Bethany monopolised Lee, towing him round with her as she showed off her diamond ring. I managed a few words with him here and there. I bought him and Dave a pint each in return for the ones they’d bought me. To save face I bought myself glasses of tonic water garnished with lime slices and pretended I was drinking vodka. I also bought a couple of energy drinks in the hope they’d give me a compensatory kick. They didn’t.

Lee and Bethany officially launched the party as they cut their engagement cake to applause. Along with everyone else I stood up and raised the glass of sparkling wine (which I couldn’t drink) in a toast wishing them happy speed on their journey to Mr and Mrs. I gave Cass my glass of free wine with the fib I didn’t care for fizz.

The disco got into full swing after the buffet had finished. By then most people had a few drinks down them and had lost their inhibitions enough to take to the floor.

Dave scored and happily gyrated around on the dance floor with a fluffy blonde girl in a purple dress. I had a few words with Lee’s flatmate Ben before he was whisked away to dance by his current girlfriend, a new age hippy type called Angel who had as many tattoos as he did. He’d probably done some of them. I had a couple of dances with Cass and then a rather self-conscious dance with a pretty girl called Jess, one of Beth’s friends, who asked if it was true I was gay. I said yes and she said.