by Swan, Tarn
This Christmas will be a tough one for Lu and his dad, the first without Emily. Lu has been a bit down lately and has had a few tearful sessions. He said he broke down in a card shop when he was choosing a card for his dad. Having to choose one for his dad alone instead of mum and dad brought home afresh his mother’s absence. My mum has kindly invited both him and his father to lunch with us. She has a soft spot for Lulu.
Maryann is also coming home for Christmas, though we're not sure if her boyfriend Callum will be joining us. I suspect not. I don't think the idea of spending Christmas with his girlfriend's weird avant-garde family is one that particularly appeals to him. I told Maryann if he did come it might be a good idea if they stayed with dad and Gill, as Callum might find them easier to cope with.
Gabby came out of hospital yesterday evening. She's a bit gutted because Molly has two brightly coloured plaster casts to show as evidence of her accident, while she just has a few stitches. Frank celebrated her coming home by switching all the Christmas lights on. There were a few days after Gabby's accident when their house was in darkness. It was good to see then go back on.
Frank has won this year’s battle of the lights hands down. His piece de résistance is a miniature steam train chugging along his roof on its own track. It looks fabulous in the dark and attracts a regular gathering of people on the street. It’s been customised to look like the train from the Tom Hanks Christmas film, The Polar Express. It came courtesy of one of Frank's mystery 'contacts' in the council who found it when they were clearing some old shop premises. It was a demonstration train from a toyshop. I was excited when I heard about it because I remember my nana taking me to that very toyshop when I was a little boy. I must have been about five years old. The train was rigged to run along the walls of the upper floor of the toyshop, out through the bay window and around the roof of the porch entrance of the shop and back in. It was an old fashioned store such as you no longer see. It had a wooden spiral staircase, which took you up to floor after floor of toys. It was a magical wonderland for kids.
I've sneaked outside a couple of times just to stand and stare up at the train on Frank's roof and remember the day when I was a starry-eyed five year old who believed magic really did exist and so did Santa Claus. It's daft, but writing about it has brought a lump to my throat. See, that’s what Christmas does, it reawakens the ghosts of the past.
We found out how Maurice acquired his black eye. Teddy gave it to him on the day of the dinner party. Apparently he’d been preparing the Las Vegas holiday photos ready to show off to guests only to discover he wasn't on most of them. Maurice's camera seemed permanently trained on a young, gay Brazilian lad by the name of Vasco, who was staying in the same hotel and who seemed to end up wherever they ended up. Teddy was furious. They'd had words on holiday because Maurice's eyes were more often on the Brazilian beauty than on him. The photos were the last straw, especially one that reduced him to a hint of arm and leg while Vasco's backside was shown in all its pert glory, as he posed by the hotel pool in nothing but a tiny thong.
They had a massive row. Teddy freaked and punched Maurice in the eye, sending him crashing into the television set. It's sad. There’s a heck of a lot of insecurities between those two and yet I think they genuinely love each other. I hope they resolve things, because at the moment they're both hurting and according to Twinks they’re doing so in silence, as they're not on speaking terms.
I didn't go down to Bristol last Thursday after all. The weather was terrible with dense icy fog. As a result most inland flights were cancelled. We didn't go to York either. No way was I risking driving for the best part of two hours along a fog bound, frost bound, car bound motorway to do a bit of Christmas shopping. The advice from the weather people was clear. If your journey wasn't essential then stay at home. I was all for staying at home.
Twinkles took umbrage. He told me it was no frigging wonder his earring had been lost for all time, as I was too anally retentive to pass it. I needn’t think he was staying at home staring at my face all day. It was his last day off before Christmas and he was going to shop...could I give him a lift into town? Being anally retentive I said no, he could get the bus, if there were any running. He said he was sorry for being rude. Good, I was pleased to hear it, but I still wasn't giving him a lift.
“GOD! You can be such a pain in the arse sometimes!”
He stormed off to get ready and eventually came downstairs wearing a red tartan mini kilt and a tight black sweater under which were crammed his biggest 36D boobs. The kilt and sweater were combined with sheer black tights, knee length, red high-heeled boots, a fake fur stole, full make up and his long blonde wig. He gave me a sweet scented smile.
“I'll be off to catch the bus into town then. Let's hope it isn't a match day otherwise the bus will be full of thugs looking for a victim to sacrifice before the kick off.”
Crafty man. He knew I wouldn’t let him go out alone looking like a catwalk queen, particularly if there was a risk of it being a match day. He was guaranteed to turn heads and not all of them lustful or friendly. If and when it was twigged that Miss was a Mister, the boobs were detachable and there were a few extra items in the basket under the kilt then you could bet there’d be repercussions. Some men and women simply cannot live and let live. They have to try and destroy what they do not understand.
I grabbed my car keys and stuffing him in the car resigned myself to driving with fog lamps at full blast and spending the day poking through women's knickers.
One of the good things about being out and about with Twinks when he's in full regalia is that publicly holding hands is less problematical than when he's clearly male, or even halfway house. We often do it regardless. If the perceived 'norms' of society aren't challenged then nothing changes. Twenty years ago you'd never expect to see two elderly people holding hands in public, such open displays of affection were frowned upon, but now it's an everyday thing and no one bats an eye. Why shouldn't lovers of whatever age or gender display their affection by holding hands? It's a simple, beautiful gesture and it should be freely available to everyone. So, as we wandered around town, I held hands with my well-endowed blonde goddess.
The trip wasn’t as bad as I feared. The shops were warm and festively appealing. The atmosphere was spiced with pre-Christmas anticipation helped along with Christmas music. Then Twinkles, the bad boy, went and spoiled it.
I felt nature call while we were in Binns department store and leaving him browsing scarves and handbags scaled the staircase to the fifth floor where the loos were located. It’s fortunate I have a strong bladder. Apart from housing the toilets the fifth floor also houses the china department. After fulfilling nature’s call, and washing my hands, I decided to do a bit of browsing on my own to see if I could find a replacement royal Doulton snowman mug for Twinks. Sadly I couldn't, so it looked like a trip to Collectables was in order.
I descended the staircase to the ground floor and looked around for Twinks, spotting him in conversation with a petite lady wielding a large wicker basket. Things appeared to be changing hands. I walked over in time to hear the petite lady tell Twinks to enjoy his free gift bags and to remember that the twenty percent discount offer applied only if he used his temporary card in store today. His proper card would be sent by post very soon.
My ears pricked up immediately. Card, er, what card? The Binns store card he had just signed up for. It had been so easy and so quick, one little pink form, one short phone call to confirm credit status and, as a reward for signing up, twenty percent discount should he use the card immediately. Best of all, I was informed, was the free gift he received for signing on the dotted line. Two pretty goody bags filled with samples from the makeup and perfume departments.
There was an audible clunk as my jaw dislocated and hit the floor. I could scarcely believe what I was hearing. The petite lady dragged her eyes away from Twinkles to give me a look and a smile that clearly said I just nailed another sucker. She then walked off to stalk a
nd entice another victim with her basket of goodies.
I coldly demanded an explanation. He fluttered his eyelashes, wound a strand of blonde hair around a finger and said brightly, “don’t worry, Tarn, sweetie, it isn’t what it looks like.”
Oh really? So, he hadn't just signed up for a new store card, despite being forbidden to ever have one again?
Well, see, that was the thing, it was brilliant, he was brilliant, he hadn't signed up for one, not technically. He knew and accepted he wasn't allowed a store card, so, he'd signed me up for one instead. It had been easy seeing as he had my wallet tucked in his handbag for safekeeping and had been able to show my driving licence and bankcards as evidence of identity. All he’d done was copy my signature. The card would be in my name. I’d have control of it. He gave me a tentative smile saying he wouldn't mind if I wanted to take advantage of the discount offer to buy something for myself.
I was flabbergasted by his action. In fact I was seething. If there'd been a chair handy I would have been tempted to sit down and put him over my knee there and then, and bugger any sense of propriety.
Taking hold of his hand I whisked him out of the store and despite his protestations that he wasn't finished shopping, we headed back to the car park at speed.
Once home I told Jonathan to go upstairs and get changed, which upset him, confirming as it did that I intended to discipline him. He couldn't seriously have expected any other. He'd disobeyed me and broken a trust and also committed identity fraud into the bargain, and for what? A few free samples of makeup and perfume. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve told him there’s no such thing as a free sample, not in the retail trade. They’re designed one way or another to make you spend pounds you don't have. You find a sample of something you can't live without, only it costs the earth and you left home without any soil in your pocket, but oh, hang on, there's this handy store card with twenty percent discount and so begins a chain of debt. We’d been there, done that, sold the excess on ebay and I wasn’t going through it again.
I sat on our bed while he transformed from glamour girl to the boy next door. He removed his wig and makeup and finally pulled on a shirt and boxer shorts. Defensively folding his arms he looked at me and said he was sorry. Sorry didn’t cut it. I asked him to explain why he'd done it, because he must have known it was wrong. He shrugged and said he’d wanted the goody bags. The only way to get them was to sign up for a store card. He’d had no intention of concealing his deed and no intention of actually using the card. He’d just wanted the gift bags. I knew how much he adored stuff like that.
I asked if that was the point and he angrily said yes, it was exactly the point and why couldn’t I just let it go. I always had to make a drama out of every little thing he did. He’d wanted a few pretty treats and there was no harm done. In his opinion I was being bloody-minded and mean for the sake of it. I’d ruined his day off.
He was upset and verging on tears. A small voice in my head suddenly whispered, ‘let it slide this time, it’s Christmas after all and he meant no harm. You can cut the card up when it comes.’
When doubt creeps in, it’s best to take time out. I told him I was going out for a walk to think things over. He could go to bed and do the same.
It was cold out, but the dense foggy atmosphere lent itself to introspection by shrouding all possible distractions from view. Was I being mean? Should I let it pass in honour of the season? I walked for miles mulling over the situation. By the time I headed home I was frozen to the marrow, but my mind was more settled.
It was another of those times that called for unequivocal action. His behaviour had been unacceptable. To let it go unpunished would set an unwise precedent and allow him to believe it was all right to try and find sly ways to manipulate rules he didn’t like. The issue at stake was not a store card it was authority, my authority within our relationship. When I said no to something I meant no and it was his role to accept it whether he liked it or not.
When I got indoors I took off my coat and shoes and ran upstairs. Twinks sat up as soon as I entered the bedroom, holding out his arms. He’d clearly been crying. I sat down on the bed and embraced him. He whispered that I’d been gone so long he thought I might have left him. I apologised, explaining I’d needed some serious thinking space.
He said he’d also done some thinking. Would it have made a difference if he’d been upfront and asked me to sign up for a store card so he could get his hands on the goody bags? I said yes of course, it would have made a huge difference. It’s exactly what he should have done instead of going behind my back. It would have enabled me to fulfil my designated role on the spot. I'd have said no, because I knew getting his hands on the free samples wouldn't be enough. He’d pester to use the discount and the situation would escalate out of control. We'd possibly have had a few words, a minor sulk perhaps and then got on with enjoying our shopping trip. Instead we were at home discussing the issue of authority in a heavier way.
I did punish him. I put him over my knee and gave him a spanking. I wouldn’t allow him to keep the samples either. I told him he had to give them away or bin them, his choice. He gave a bag each to Gabby and Katie when we visited the hospital that evening. He got some pleasure out of their pleasure and at least got to sample some of the perfumes. He expressed a particular penchant for one called My Queen by Alexander McQueen. I've bought him a bottle for Christmas. He’ll love it. See, I'm not such a bad old ogre.
I didn't meet him for lunch today. He’s run off his feet at this time of year and barely gets time for a break. He’s working tomorrow too, though with it being Sunday he's only working six hours. It's enough. No doubt he'll be wrapping gifts and curling ribbon long after the shop has officially closed, as the last minute men pile in looking for gifts for their loved ones.
I’ve finished work until after Christmas now. We had our office party yesterday. It was a more subdued affair than usual. The talk was pretty much centred on whether there’ll be an office and jobs to return to in the New Year. I was asked several times if I knew anything. I claimed to be as much in the dark as everyone else, which isn’t quite true. Judging from the rumours coming out of head office significant changes to my department are definitely afoot, but exactly how they’ll manifest is yet to be seen. I’m not going to let career worries cast a pall over Christmas. I’ll deal with whatever comes in the New Year.
In the meantime I’m going to treat myself to a cup of freshly brewed coffee, a slice of mum’s excellent Christmas cake and then I’m going to wrap up Twinkle’s gifts before venturing out to do some last minute shopping. I rather enjoy the atmosphere around town as Christmas gets closer and people respond by being warmer and friendlier to each other.
I’ll close the diary for this year and give my attention to the season and all its rituals and traditions. Perhaps I’ll return next year with more star struck tales of life with the man I love.
End.
Back to top
Other Books in the series:
Swan Songs extracts from my life with Stardust Twinkles
The Stardust Diaries January to May 2006
Going to the Chapel ~ The Stardust Diaries June to December 2006
Coming Out ~ a supplementary short story to Swan Songs
http://www.fabianblackromance.com/swan-songs