Christmas At Leo's - Memoirs Of A Houseboy (31 page)

“You were asleep.” I carefully re-hung the towel on the rail, smoothing it.

“Then you should have waited for me to wake up.”

“Yes. Sorry.” My self-preservation instincts kicked in. Summoning a smile I aimed to disarm with some seasonal charm. “Happy Christmas, Daddy.”

“Don’t Happy Christmas me, you artful monkey.” He made a lunge for me, grasping me by the wrist. I experienced a sense of déjà vu as he towed me back into the bedroom and seated me at the writing desk. He tapped the paper on which I’d written the lines he’d set the night before. “Write them again, twenty-five times. Raise your hand when you’re finished.”

Dick posed a sleepy question from the bed. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing to worry about, pet. Gilli has some unfinished business from last night to complete.” He tapped the paper again. “Make a start. In the meantime, I’ll be giving careful consideration as to whether or not I’m going to paddle you this morning.”

“But it’s Christmas Day?” I wailed plaintively.

“I’ll wrap tinsel around the handle and sing Jingle Bells as I apply it to your truculent backside.”

And to think he often accused me of sarcasm. Picking up the pen I began writing. The prospect of a paddling was not pleasant. My bottom still ached from the stern attention of the cane, as well as his hand. I hoped his consideration fell on the merciful side, in respect of the day if nothing else.

Shane returned to the desk with my morning medication and disappeared again. The mattress creaked, as he rejoined Dick in bed. They exchanged Christmas salutations enhanced with kisses. I sat scribing, listening as they engaged in pillow talk, their voices low, so I couldn’t quite hear what they were saying. They have no consideration.

When the lines were written I fulfilled the unfinished business from the night before, by putting up my hand. I waited for a command to put it down, and waited. My shoulder began to ache. After what felt like an eternity, Shane got out of bed and came over to me, giving permission for me to lower my hand. I did so with a sigh of relief.

Standing behind me, he massaged my shoulders, his fingers easing the strain out of the muscles. “Are you going to disappoint me again today, Gilli?”

I shook my head. “No, Daddy.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to set aside personal considerations and try much harder to please you.”

“Damn right you are.” He stopped massaging, but kept his hands on my person. “You’ve escaped a paddling, for now, but I’m warning you, if there’s so much as a hint of strife from you today, I will follow through. I’ll also ask Leo for a puppy cage to keep you in for the remainder of the holidays.”

It was a chilling threat.

He squeezed my shoulders. “Get up.”

I stood up and faced him. Leaning down, he smudged his lips across mine. “Happy Christmas.” Turning me towards the bed, he gave my bottom a mock smack. “Give Dick a kiss and then go and have a shower. I’ll lay out some clothes for you.”

I went over to the bed where Dick was sitting up, propped against pillows. I gave him a kiss. “Happy Christmas, Dick.”

“Happy Christmas.” He touched a hand to my cheek, his soft caramel brown eyes searching my face. “You all right, babe?”

I nodded, and he continued.

“Promise you’ll be pleasant and present with us today, instead of locked down in some place we can’t reach you.”

“I promise, Dick.”

“Good boy.” He gave me one of the sweet little winks he saves just for me. “You’d better behave, or it’s down to the woodshed for you, my lad.”

“Leo doesn’t have a woodshed, does he?”

Shane interrupted, his voice impatient. “Shower. Gilli. Now.”

“Going, Daddy.” I gave Dick another kiss and then went into the ensuite.

Standing under a stream of hot water, I rocked out Christmas carols, trying to get myself in the mood for the day ahead. Overall, I felt calmer. The early hours exchange with my mother had dissipated a little of the unhappy tension I’d felt since my visit to her, showing that she at least was thinking of me.

After showering, I went back into the bathroom to dry myself off. “Dick.” I went over to where he was still languishing in bed. “I don’t look too hideous do I? Seriously? I don’t want to put folk off their Christmas dinner. Should I wear a gift bag on my head?”

Shane jumped in with impatient comment. “Your skin would be better if you obsessed over it less. You’re forever piping on and on about it. It’s on a constant loop, along with moans about your meds and bitching about booze.”

I snapped back. “Injustices need to be highlighted.”

“It’s attention seeking of the worst kind.”

“No quarrels, please.” Dick sought to smooth and soothe. “It is Christmas morning after all. I want my favourite men to be sweet to each other.” He smiled at me. “You look fine, honey. A few blemishes can’t disguise that you’re a very attractive boy.”

“He’s a vain boy.” Shane swiped a paw at my rump. “Finish getting dressed.” He turned to Dick. “You’re not lying there all day, either. Get your arse out of bed and into the shower.”

Dick swung his long legs over the side of the bed. “Just my arse, or should I shower the rest of me too?”

Shane rolled his eyes. “The brat has infected you with his juvenile brand of humour.”

Dick grinned and promptly high-fived me. Shane gave a snort of disgust and flicked a Gibbs style smack up the back of his head.

I did my hair and then dressed in the clothes Shane had laid out for me: a pair of smart black trousers and a fitted blue shirt with a mandarin style collar. He liked me in blue. I’d have preferred to wear casual jeans and a t-shirt, but I suppose Christmas Day warranted something a bit smarter.

Tempting smells began to filter up from below. Leo was obviously up and cooking breakfast. My stomach growled anticipation. “May I go down, Daddy? I’m famished.”

He fixed me with a stern look. “Go, and bear in mind what I said about strife. I’m expecting the best from you today. No sulking or skulking in corners and no disagreements, with anyone. Throw so much as a dirty look and you’ll regret it. I promise, I will strip, paddle and cage you. Do you want to be a sideshow exhibit for the rest of the holiday?”

My stomach rolled and I blushed, avoiding his gaze, mumbling, “no.”

“Then behave.” He took my face between his hands. “Pleasing me needn’t be a hardship. Stop battling and start smiling, make an effort to join in the occasion and enjoy what you can enjoy instead of resenting what you can’t, and I’ll be pleased. We’re going to have a nice Christmas Day. Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Good boy.” Selecting a sweet from the bowl on the desk, he unwrapped it. Holding it between his finger and thumb, he instructed me to open my mouth. I obeyed and he popped the delicious dainty inside. He patted my cheek. “Chocolate tastes good, but it’s hardly nourishing. Go on, cub, get breakfast.”

The sweet treat and the endearment signified a softening in his manner. I gave him a spontaneous hug, relieved to have even a small measure of affection from him after the heavy censorship of the day before.

He loosened my arms from around his waist. “Scoot. Let me get ready. I’ll see you down there. Be NICE to Leo.”

I shoved on my shoes and plodded downstairs. The Christmas tree in the hall was ablaze with lights. Judging from the rich, spicy scent in the air, Leo had obviously refreshed the bowls of potpourri with oils. I took a peek in the lounge where the fire crackled a warm Yuletide welcome. Candles were lit, adding to the special atmosphere. I smiled as I experienced my first thrill of festive excitement.

Genny had taken up a prime position in front of the hearth. She took a break from cleaning her bum to mew a greeting at me. I mewed one back. Unimpressed by my mastery of Siamese cat language she resumed licking her anus. She was a scat cat. Kinky puss!

It looked like I was the first one up, apart from Leo. Good. I headed for the kitchen, sniffing the delicious mixed aromas of bacon and fresh coffee. Shane was right, chocolate was nice, but it wasn’t proper food.

Leo was at the cooker griddle, turning sausages, using his best sea shanty voice to rumble along with the carol emanating from the radio. A colourful glossy apron protected his clothes from grease spatters. It was printed with a cornucopia of edible Christmas goodies, facsimiles of what he’d be serving up over the course of the day.

He broke off singing to greet me with a smile and a resounding, “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” I returned the wish.

Using his sausage turning tongs as a pointer, he drew my attention to a tray on the central workstation. It was set with gilded, long-stemmed champagne flutes, along with a glass jug full of fresh orange juice. There were also a couple of silver ice buckets, in which resided bottles of what appeared to be champagne. I was half right.

“The bucket on the left contains a bottle of that sparkling alcohol free wine. It will be beautifully chilled by now. Open it and make yourself a Bucks Fizz.”

A spark of pique ignited my tongue. “Bucks Piss you mean. I bet you won’t be polluting your juice with alcohol free crap.”

Leo’s tongs clattered onto the griddle. In what seemed like a blur of movement he was beside me. I gave a squawk of startled protest as he seized and seated me on a kitchen chair with such force it left me momentarily breathless.

“Hey.” I spluttered ineffectually.

“Consider yourself put on the naughty chair, you ungrateful brat.” His finger presented to my face. “I put up with a lot from you, but I’m not putting up with any moaning, temperamental bullshit today. I love this holiday and I work hard to make it special. I won’t have you spoiling it for me, or anyone else, just because things aren’t the way you want them to be.”

For the second time that morning I felt a wash of colour heat my face. I crossed my arms over my chest, but couldn’t bring myself to say anything. I was too taken aback by his action.

He continued. “I want an assurance that you’re going to conduct yourself better than you did yesterday. I have other guests coming. I won’t have you embarrassing Shane and Dick in front of them. They’re family to me and they’re good men, they deserve better.”

“Embarrassing them how?” I flashed back. “What do you think I’m going to do? Piss up your bonsai tree or eat peas off my knife. I do know how to behave you know.”

“Then prove it.”

“I will!”

“Good! Because if you don’t, I’ll ask Shane to grant me ten minutes alone with you. Unlike him, I won’t have Dick’s voice pleading for me not to be too tough on baby, and if I do I’ll ignore it. I’ll show you the true meaning of pain. You won’t dare complain about alcohol again, not after I’ve finished with you.”

The heat in my face accelerated. “Shane wouldn’t ever let you touch me.”

“Don’t count on it.”

I was removed from the chair with the same abruptness as I’d been seated on it. Like Shane he’s a big bastard with more strength than is good for him. Holding my upper arm, he steered me across the kitchen and shoved me out into the hall.

“Let’s start this morning all over again shall we, my young friend. Come in when you’re ready to be pleasant and polite.” He closed the door on me.

Bastard. I stood for a few minutes, trying to unruffle my thoroughly rumpled feathers. Shit. I glanced uneasily in the direction of the stairs, instinctively reaching my hands back to cup my cane-marked buttocks. Shane would hang me out to dry if he discovered I’d upset Leo with one of my ill-considered remarks. He wouldn’t really cage me though, would he? Or hand me over to Leo for a thrashing? Not really? Yeah. I believed he would.

Smoothing down my shirt and taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door and walked into the warm, fragrant kitchen once again. As before, Leo was at the griddle, turning the sausages. I could hear them hissing as their juices flowed onto the hot plate. I injected a cheerful note into my voice. “Smells good in here.”

He turned to face me. There was no smile this time, but his tone was cordial. “Merry Christmas, Gilli.”

“Merry Christmas, Leo.”

Putting down the cooking tongs, he held out his arms. “Do I get a Christmas kiss now?”

“Depends?”

“On what?”

“On whether you’ve been snogging Genny beforehand. I don’t want a mouthful of cat spit.”

His eyes narrowed beneath their regal canopies. “How Shane hasn’t murdered you is beyond my understanding. If you were my boy I’d have killed you by now.”

“If I was your boy you wouldn’t have to kill me, I’d kill myself.”

“Touché.” He grinned and gestured me forward. “Come here, you insufferable brat.”

I walked over to him, accepting his kiss and a hug. Shame and remorse supplanted resentment. “I apologise for my remark, Leo. I don’t know what gets into me sometimes.”

“Youth and the devil, I’d say. Let’s move on.” He waved a hand towards the breakfast bench, reciting what sounded like a Hobbit’s culinary wish list. “There’s bacon, mushrooms and scrambled eggs in the hot trays. Cereals are in the cupboard if you want them. Help yourself. Sausages are almost ready. Toast, muffins and croissants will be along shortly. Fill up. We won’t be having Christmas dinner until four or five o clock. I’m not making a lunch as such.”