Future Queens of England

by Ryan Matthews

  “Deal!” Uwe said making no attempt to disguise how pleased he was with himself. “So are you coming in for a quick shower before we practise?”

  Tony shifted on his feet nervously, “I'll go up to our room and have one there if it's okay with you.” He reached for the door and pulled it open quickly.

  Uwe shook his head, “You don't have to worry Tony.”

  “I know that, but it just makes me uncomfortable, that's all,” Tony muttered quietly without making eye contact with Uwe. “I keep forgetting and thinking that we're all the same, but we're not are we? I'm different or you lot are different,” he paused momentarily. “How do I know that one of your lot isn't a wolf in sheep's clothing?”

  “Tony, we have to share the same toilet with you. Let me assure you that anyone who has had the misfortune of using the toilet directly after you could never find you attractive. In fact it's making me nauseous just thinking about it,” Uwe groaned, his nostrils flaring. “I could never stick part of me into something that manufactures that much of a stink.”

  “Oh, that's good to hear...I think?” Tony said wondering whether he should be relieved or offended. “Look I'll meet you in twenty minutes in the dance studio,” he said as he slipped out of the door and into the corridor.

  The music was blasting out, Tony was grinning wildly and toying with his collar. The coloured lights flashed as red and green laser beams danced across the wall.

  “Tony,” Gareth said, “you know I have never seen you happier than you look right now.”

  Tony laughed out loud, “I know. Who would have thought it? There is nowhere else I'd want to be than here tonight.”

  “Aw, with us you mean?” Giles said, his voice all gooey.

  Tony frowned. “Fuck off!” he growled defensively. “I'm talking about the pussy potential at this gay bar,” he said calming down as his eyes scanned the room.

  “You know you really need to curtail your foul language,” Gareth said firmly.

  “You what?” Tony laughed. “Give me one good reason,” he said with defiance as he threw the last of his drink down his neck.

  Gareth thought carefully for a moment. Tony was getting far too cocksure as of late and needed to reel it in. “Well, for one, Louise hates swearing.”

  “Yeah, and what's your point?”

  “My point is that you've been spending quite a lot of time with her recently haven't you?” Gareth pointed out, “and I reckon you're in with a chance with her.”

  Tony stopped jiggling about to the music and immediately turned to face Gareth. “What makes you say that?” he enquired, his curiosity piqued.

  “Oh Tony, I guess you'll never understand the way a woman's mind works, will you,” he patronised. He turned away from Tony and took a sip from his drink.

  Tony put his hand on Gareth's shoulder, “Whoa there! Tell me more!” he demanded.

  Gareth shrugged, “Oh, but you're not interested in Louise are you Tony. Not when you can have your pick of the girls here tonight by masquerading as a homosexual.” He waved Tony off, “No, you carry on.” He turned away from Tony again.

  Tony pulled at Gareth's shoulder once more, “Please Gareth, tell me what you mean, please!”

  “Oh don't beg Tony, it doesn't become you,” he said haughtily.

  “Look, I'm sorry that I am such an arse, it's just the testosterone oozing through my veins,” he said, trying to explain away his behaviour.

  Gareth winked at Hugh, “Okay Tony, I'll explain. So you've been spending some time with Louise lately haven't you?”

  “Yes, she asked me to help her track down the Phantom.”

  Gareth pulled an expression like he was thinking hard, “Hmmm, yes. Because you're the obvious choice aren't you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I'm saying, why pick you? A part time postman and a full time hooligan.”

  Tony frowned again as he thought about this, “But I'm neither anymore.” He stopped abruptly, this was the first time he'd really admitted the effect that the past few months had had on him. He looked at Gareth, “I'm not the same person any more, am I?”

  Gareth tilted his head to one side, “Well, I must admit you certainly look different and you act differently, at least most of the time, with the occasional lapse. But can a leopard ever really change its spots? Are you not just a product of your environment, who'll slip back into your old ways once you get back to your normal life?”

  Tony scowled, how could he argue this? He'd always been so proud of being a man's man, a beer drinker who likes his football, a real Jack the lad. Now what? After just a few months could he really disregard all that he once was? Should he now declare himself a metrosexual, albeit in the loosest sense? He shuddered at the thought, a strange emotion that he hadn't felt before overtook him, he didn't know what it was but it felt wrong.

  Gareth clicked his fingers in front of Tony's face, “Hey, are you still with us Tony?”

  Tony flinched and shook himself, he pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind. This wasn't something he was ready to think about. “What were we talking about?” he asked, his voice a little shaken.

  “We were talking about three things, weren't we?” Gareth held his right hand up in front of Tony and extended his thumb. “One, we were talking about how you need to stop swearing so much. Two,” he said holding up his index finger, “how Louise needed a Sherlock Holmes figure and out of everyone at the school she decided to pick you, and three,” he held up his middle finger, “about how you've changed.”

  Tony decided to completely ignore the latter. “Well, I guess Louise thought I'd be good at finding the culprit.”

  Gareth squealed with laughter, “Oh Tony, you're so naïve. Do you really think that she needs your help? She has an ulterior motive.”

  Tony looked totally baffled, “And what would that be?”

  Gareth looked smug and made Tony wait a few moments before answering, “She likes you Tony, but she's not sure if you're boyfriend material. She's using this Phantom business as an excuse to spend some more time with you, to work you out.”

  “Really?”

  Gareth nodded, “Really!” He put his hands on his hips, “Look. Does she ask you a lot of questions when you're searching for clues?”

  “Yes, now you mention it she does,” Tony said, “but don't all women?”

  “Yes, but are these questions about the Phantom?” Gareth probed knowingly.

  “No. In fact she hardly ever talks about the Phantom,” Tony said as it finally started to dawn on him.

  Gareth nodded, “Uh-huh. So what sort of things does she ask you about?”

  “Favourite films, food, books...” Tony trailed off. “Oh for fuck's sake, that sneaky cow.” He leant against the wall gob-smacked. “I can't believe it.”

  Gareth patted Tony on the shoulder, “She likes you Tony and you've unwittingly been sitting an examination to check out your feasibility. Don't be too hard on yourself, your judgement is completely clouded by hormones and women are very complicated creatures.”

  Tony scratched his head, “But why didn't she just ask me out?”

  Uwe leant over, “That is the difference between men and women. Men just jump in, controlled by their hormones. Basically men have one criterion that has to be met, i.e. would I sleep with her? But women have a longer check list.”

  “A lot, lot longer,” Hugh agreed nodding his head frantically.

  “In fact it is more like a flow chart and 'would I sleep with him?' is way down the list,” Uwe added sagely.

  “How come you lot are such bloody experts on women?” Tony said with bewilderment.

  “I didn't think we were. I thought that this stuff was just common sense,” Gareth said matter-of-factly. “Should we continue our original conversation Tony?”

  “About what?”

  “About your bad language, you seem to say the word fuck in almost every sentence” Gareth replied.

  “But this is the only way I know how to exp
ress myself,” Tony said defensively.

  “Words like ‘fuck’ should be used as an exclamation mark, not a comma.”

  Tony let this sink in, “Okay, I can see the logic there. But I've been swearing like a trooper since I was eight. How the fuck am I supposed to correct this overnight?” he said proving Gareth's point.

  Gareth pondered this for a moment and tapped his finger against the side of his head, “Alright, I have an idea. Why don't we just substitute the word ‘fuck’ for something else?” He took a step back for effect and smiled.

  Tony wrinkled his nose, “Like what?”

  Gareth sighed, “Must I do everything here? Look, I don't know, something similar.” He scratched his head as he thought about it. “What about saying ‘frith’ instead of ‘fuck’?”

  “What the fuck does frith mean?” Tony muttered as he shook his head.

  “It is just very similar and I imagine that your brain would accept frith as a valid substitute Tony,” Gareth explained. “Frith seems somehow strong enough but is watered down enough to convey the emotion but without the offence.”

  “Fuck me! Not swearing seems a bit gay to me,” Tony grumbled.

  Gareth let out a heavy sigh, “Frith me, not swearing seems a bit gay to me,” he corrected. “Look, just give it a try, that's all I'm saying. Now will someone please buy me a drink?” he added wearily.

  “I'll buy you one,” Bruce said with some enthusiasm, “I'll get you one too Hugh.”

  Later that night Uwe approached Tony who by now had sampled several glasses of wine and was well and truly in the party spirit. He started up a conversation. “Hey Tony, how's it going?”

  “I'm alright Uwe, but steer clear of the Shiraz tonight, it's bloody awful.”

  Uwe listened carefully and tried to gauge whether or not Tony was drunk enough, but not too drunk that he would show him up. Unsure, he reached down into his pocket and took out a coin. “Here, catch,” Uwe said as he threw the coin towards Tony.

  Tony rapidly focused and snatched the coin out of the air, “What's this for?” he said as he examined the coin.

  Uwe felt satisfied, “Do you know what time it is?” he said ignoring Tony's question.

  “Ten o'clock?” Tony said looking at the new watch that Gareth had bought him from their last shopping excursion.

  “No. It's time for us to rock this party!” As the words reached Tony's ear, the alcohol failed to stop him from cringing.

  “Oh, try not to say things like that, Uwe,” Tony groaned as he shook his head. “It really makes you sound European.”

  “What are you trying to incinerate?” Uwe responded.

  Tony rolled his eyes, “Insinuate,” he sighed. “Oh for fuc...” he stopped himself, and remembered Gareth's words from earlier. “Shall we just go and dance?”

  “Yes,” Uwe said simply, tiring of his conversation with Tony.

  “But no funny business, okay?” Tony growled.

  “Don't flatter yourself,” he replied indignantly.

  Tony knocked back the last of his drink and they made their way to the dance floor. Uwe found a space and took his position. Tony, following suit, stood next to him and assumed the same stance. Under the glare of the flashing coloured lights Uwe looked across at Tony and nodded. Tony felt the adrenaline in his body start to pump as he waited for Uwe's sign. The beat pounded as they both stood there motionless, until suddenly Uwe took a step forward and then stopped. Tony waited for the next beat and then did the same. Uwe swung his arms over his head, then became motionless once more, as Tony repeated the move. Then suddenly they turned to face each other and simultaneously lifted their left arms followed by their right, their legs kicked forward and back as they mirrored each other perfectly.

  A few of the revellers around them saw what was happening and stood back to make room for them. Uwe slid to his right, still mirrored by Tony, their bodies undulating, their synchronicity almost perfect.

  The other dancers stopped what they were doing and a large circle formed naturally around both Uwe and Tony as they delivered move after killer move. They began to clap in time to the beat, and Tony and Uwe then took their dancing to the next stage. The pair doubled the speed in which they moved as they danced around each other to the whoops and hollers from their spellbound audience. They darted left and right, their bodies owning the dance floor. Every single eye in the place was on them as they performed what they'd spent hours perfecting.

  Finally as the song neared its conclusion Uwe turned and walked away from his dance partner. Tony took a few steps back and took position, then quick as a flash Uwe span on his axis and ran towards Tony. When he was just a few feet from Tony he leapt up and was lifted effortlessly high above Tony’s head, his arms fully extended. Uwe kept his body fixed in a horizontal position, his feet and legs held completely together in perfect symmetry. The crowd erupted into applause, and the odd whistle punctuated the clapping. Tony and Uwe held their position soaking up the crowd's rapture and reverence. Eventually Tony lowered Uwe to his feet. Tony opened his mouth and began to speak.

  “Sorry Tony, but I must strike whilst the iron is hot. A moment spent talking to you is a moment wasted,” and with that he turned and allowed the audience to surround him.

  Tony felt too exhilarated to let Uwe bother him and began to make his way off the dance floor. He took his first step and was confronted with a swarm of men as they hustled to speak to him.

  “Hey, love your moves. Let's dance!” One squealed excitedly at Tony.

  Tony waved him away quickly and tried to propel himself through the crowd.

  “Hiya Butch, can I buy you a drink?” another voice said.

  Tony shook his head. Bodies pushed themselves up against him and patted him on the back. He took several deep breaths and tried to keep calm.

  Suddenly several hands reached into the scrum and grabbed Tony's arm. He felt himself pulled forward and a fear overtook him. He lost his balance and fell to the floor. Tony looked up at the swathing crowd above him. Then, just as he tried to get his bearings, he felt two hands grip his left leg, and then another two grab his right leg.

  “Oh fuck! They're gonna bum me!” he screamed. He began to kick wildly as he was dragged across the floor and out of the melee. “Argghh! Get the fuck off of me! Stop trying to pull my trousers down. There's no way you're bumming me,” he cried out kicking and screaming as he was awkwardly hauled out of the crowd on his back.

  “Bum you? Not for all the tea in China,” Gareth laughed as he looked down at Tony. “Come on Hugh, put your back into it.”

  Hugh grunted in acknowledgement and continued to pull Tony across the carpet to safety.

  “Oh shit, it's you guys,” Tony said with a relief that he'd never experienced before, his heart beating frantically.

  Gareth and Hugh dragged him a little further and then let go of his legs.

  “Well, that's what you get for showing off, Tony,” Gareth said panting as he tried to catch his breath.

  Tony clambered to his feet.

  “The crowd loved you Tony,” Hugh said jealously. “That's the sort of response I want to get when I get famous.”

  Tony ignored him and lifted up the back of his shirt. He ran his hands over the middle of his back, “I think you've given me carpet burns.”

  “Wear them like a badge of honour,” Gareth chuckled. “I don't just give carpet burns to anyone.”

  Predictably Tony shuddered at the very suggestion. “I need a drink to calm my nerves.” He said as he dusted himself down and walked across to the bar. He slumped himself against the bar and forced himself to relax. He was calming down now.

  After a couple of minutes stood silently composing himself, Tony was joined by Keenan at the bar.

  “Hey that was pretty impressive Tony,” Keenan chirped in his usual manner as he leant against the bar. “You must have put some hours practice in there.”

  Tony nodded in acknowledgement, but didn't speak.

  “But nothing co
uld have prepared you for that response!” Keenan added. “That really was some crazy shit.”

  Tony exhaled forcefully, “You're telling me!”

  “Why did you let Uwe talk you into that?”

  “One reason,” Tony said surveying the room. “Just look at all that pussy,” Tony said as he rubbed his hands together greedily.

  “What? Do you have some sort of filter fitted Tony?” Keenan asked incredulously, “your brain seems to have some innate ability to filter out all the gay men here and just focus on the women.”

  “Amazing, ain't it?” Tony said proudly as he switched back to his normal operating mode. “Now I reckon I can have my pick of the bunch tonight after that performance,” he turned and waved at the bartender. “A bottle of your cheapest champagne and eight glasses please.” The barman nodded and duly brought Tony his order. Tony slapped his money on the bar and took the tray of glasses. “Now let's see Tony work his magic,” he pushed past Keenan and walked over to a group of girls waving the bottle of champagne aloft.

  “Hiya girlfriends!” said in a faux camp manner. “Do you have room for a little one?” He slid the tray effortlessly onto their table and made room for himself.

  “Hey, you're that guy who was dancing earlier aren't you?” one of the girls said excitedly.

  Tony smiled, closed his eyes and nodded slowly.

  “You were amazing!” another squealed as she clapped her hands together.

  “Thanks,” Tony mouthed silently as he started to unscrew the top on the champagne bottle.

  “Was that guy that you were dancing with your boyfriend?” the girl to Tony's left asked.

  Tony winced momentarily, but managed to hold his natural reaction back. “Who him?” he said as nonchalantly as possible. “He's a nobody.” He poised the champagne bottle over one of the glasses. “Who wants some champers then?” he said winking at the attractive girl opposite him.

  She smiled, “Oh yes please,” eagerly picking up and pushing a glass towards him.

  “So, listen, girls,” Tony started in a sad voice, “I know we've only just met, but I feel like I've known you for years.” He poured the bubbly into their glasses as he spoke, “I'm in a bit of a dilemma you see. Well, quite obviously I am just so gay, but I keep having these strange dreams about women.” He stopped talking, put the bottle down and took a sip of the champagne. “Oh, where are my manners, you girls don't want to hear about old Tony's problems do you?”