Week two
“To Love and lose is
NOT better then
to love and abuse”
I was so overjoyed at my life-affirming results from the hospital that I didn’t stop to think that in the classier, uptown part of Maida Vale the Glitterballgate affair might have had serious repercussions. The hard fact is that Richard’s entire social status teetered on a slippery and sometimes quite slimey edge, and it appeared that this wasn’t the first time John had come close to knocking him over that edge with his bizarre and unhelpful behaviour, especially at socially crucial events.
After a very humiliated Richard (and the blithely oblivious John) had left the fashion launch in his immaculate-but-drenched Prada suit, more had happened…
That night he and John were at each other’s throats like two demented sumo wrestlers in glitter and Armani. The scene in their sitting room looked like a cross between a wet T-shirt fight and a wobbly Disco-ball.
“Do you realise how Fucking important this launch party is for me?” 
“Was” corrected John. That was not a good move. Richard peeled off his wet
suit, and John, the once Adonis-like model, squeezed out of the Sparkly Drawers. To Richard's surprise and shock he saw something…
“A corset?” he screamed at John.
“It’s just until I begin my diet” John snapped back at Richard.
“And how is this... corset?” asked Richard, more out of curiosity than anger.
“It makes me Fart and I can’t breathe properly” said John, promptly farting on cue.
“So why the HELL did you have to wear it to Françoise’s launch party?” shrieked the incredulous Richard.
John, of course, had no good reply to this - he merely glared at Richard in a "strange way". He knew that whatever he said at this stage wouldn't be heard. Had Richard been telepathic, he
could have taken his choice from any of the following reasons which John was screaming quietly inside his head:
A) “Can’t you tell? I am one of a pair of Graf
Zeppelin's!”
B)“Demise Roussos looks like Karen Carpenter
next to me”
C)“Why can’t I be worshipped by men and women like before?”
Had I had been there I would have happily answered John’s questions… I would have told him he ate too much, drank too much, did little or no exercise and did class A,B and C drugs to excess. Maybe the bitter side of me would have also sniped “Yes, you were far too pretty when you were younger, and way too head over heels in love with yourself to even notice Richard’s nervous breakdown, and now you are paying the price. In a nutshell, John, it's only natural
justice that when you sunbathe, passers-by shout out comments about the Preservation of rare mammals”…
All this, of course, went unsaid, as, luckily for us all I was
out celebrating my newly discovered HIV negative persona.
As I celebrated, Richard paced up and down the length of his £500,000 house. (Note I said HIS.)
As I have previously mentioned, since his retirement from modelling John had basically done nothing with his life. His early attempts at Interior Design and Decorating ended promptly when a very valuable Domiegaro Paperweight (with the usual silver snowdrops and a backdrop setting of the Virginia plains) mysteriously disappeared from his fourth client's Reception Room and reappeared in Richard’s house… as had many other high-value objects from the previous three clients.
John was not only helping his clients out with their soft-furnishings; he was helping himself as well, and in the process redecorating his own nest.
Back to the present day….
“Maybe we should look at this whole issue in more depth,” said Richard at last, pouring two glasses of red wine. John looked quizzically over at his lover.
“What issues?” he asked slowly. Richard walked over, glasses in hand, and sat on the sofa, next to the discarded (and substantially stressed) corset.
“I think, John,” he said slowly "I think we both need a break.”
"Oooh!" John thought “Aspen!”
Richard meant “Champneys”
“Mmm. Skiing” daydreamed John... not that he could ski. Richard threw a viscious glance over in John's direction as John poured himself another over-sized glass full of the over-priced wine. (Even as I write this, I really can't visualise one of the Four Tenors -Pavarotti, to be more precise - in spangly hot-pants, pissed as a newt, careering down a mountainside on a pair of skis, like an Attention-Seeking Missile!)
“Champneys, John. We're going to Champneys. We need to de-tox,” he said, and with that declaration they began their diets.
Meanwhile, in uptown Islington, James was having issues of his own. He was in the middle of clearing the vomit off the balcony leading off his flat. It was his flatmate, Ian's Birthday and Ian
had thrown a party…
but it appeared that was not the only thing he had thrown, proof of which was all over the balcony. The phone rang and
Ian (Richard Chunk blowing Flatmate) was handed over to the lovely Darren. Whilst James answered the phone. It was
his mother.
Now, James had never got on with his mother. It was apparently one of those un-written GAY
laws that you ALWAYS get on with your
mother…
but not James. In fact James really didn’t get on with his
family at all. His brother Stephen still lived at home at
31 years of age, stayed inside his room, and being male was caught masturbating more often then he really wanted to be. But with TV video and a remote control all in him bedroom… Stephen could only resist so much. The WEIRD part was although his Mother had caught him spanking his over-zealous monkey at least six times. She still never knocked before she went into his room, with his late night cocoa; I mean there was defiantly something Freud would have to say about that. Oedipus springs to mind.
James’s Mother had rung to find out if Ian’s Party was going.
“…All the way?”
“I’m leaving the Ministry of sound” Announced James
“You can’t “his mother replied. That was not a request that was an order.
“I have to” said James in the same tone. This was true, the smoky basement of the nightclub,
the sacrifices and those “damn servers” were proving too much. James had developed a “tickly
cough”… amongst other things
“I’m branching out “He continued Clair was Silent at the other end of the phone… This would mean “security” would be breached James would no longer be in a 9-5 something she did not like-NO STRUCTURE.
“A friend and I are going into our own business”.
His mother repeated her last statement:
Meanwhile
Ian had just finished emptying his stomach and was suddenly feeling a lot better… so the lovely Darren took him to the kitchen where he proceeded to smoke a joint and drink some kind of Alcohol.
As I say, James really did need to leave work; his health not to mention his sex life was
suffering. I myself had gone through six
months of my own suffering (the HIV problem) I had had a tortuous time during the period of grace where I had to wait-n- see
Everyone around me had suffered my change in manner too… I had made sure of it… but I omitted to tell them why. Well I wasn’t being held at gunpoint.
It is not the best choice of words but it brings me
neatly to William that night. Whilst John and Richard no longer fussed and worried about their size and Ian no longer worried about anything and James tried to make his Mother understand He needed to get away. William had decided to go out and “pick a Guy up” well, we all begin somewhere.
So that night He put on his best sweater (not to look too gay) did his hair and 4 hours later emerged from his bedroom looking roughly the same as he did when he began. But he felt a
Million $$ now, He may have felt inwardly a million dollars but out worldly he was carrying bout £25. But at 19 you don’t even need to bring that much into Soho. All your drinks are bought for you. I would have told him all this if I had known he was going out, but my cat “Kije” a chocolate brown Siamese had developed a lump inside his nose and it was weeping. He also developed Water on the lungs and a failing liver. He was shved on a drip and in a cage. Lloyd and I were very Upset by Kije's sudden downfall... and it didn't look like Kije would be with me for much
longer Waiting to see him agin we sat in silance in the waiting room (which looked vaguely like the Island of Dr Moreau, or Mengele, had secretly had on the side) Then-what seemed like an eternity of wait. No one was going to interrupt us. I mean the vet had hinted at a Tumour for Gods sake.
Anyway that was my reason for turning my mobile off… James had taken Ian to the Hospital to buy him a new stomach lining or something.
Finaly lloyd and I were seen The Vet looked upset. It appeared he was very ill…
We were given the option of a painless death of a very much loved only 11 year old family member or to wait over the weekend and see if the Docter could help at all. It was a painfull desision but we saw HIS pain and felt him losing the will to live. As his eyes clouded over with his next attack from the tumor we agreed to euthanaisia. I held Kije's paw as The cat became a peice of fur with bones on and all the life had left him. I am not ashamed to say I cried.And I will not put any pictures up of him on this Diary his last moments Lloyd took of us remain unseen To show them here would be tacky and I am not a teenager. In a cage with fur shaved off and on a drip is not a way to remember him. Funny thing is We were called the next day out of the blue by the breeder who asked if we were interested in purchasing another havana thoughour-bred kitten. Without hesitation I said Yes. And four painful days later James drove me to Pick up Addison the new Cat in our life and NOTHING like Kije. This thing is mad and Beautiful. That
coincidence? Or fate?
Meanwhile, across town: That day
Richard and John were busy browsing over glossy, over priced over the top magazines advertising overweight and over indulgent people to come forward and give THEM their money
NOT MacDonald’s. The phone rang. It was William.
But somehow… all that obesity, had made John and Richard feel decidedly slim and JUST as Richard reached across to pick up; the phone he heard the familiar “ZIPP” of Johns flies coming undone that was an ISSUE Richard couldn’t ignore.
And he was seduced
William switched off his mobile “no-one seems to be home” he said He had been in town 15 minutes and had caught the attention of a very attractive man, The pleasantries of small talk were-motioned through- and fifteen
minutes later William was back at the mans flat, flat on his back and ripe for a good Fucking
“Have you ever been to Ireland?” said his partner in a smooth Irish drawl. William paused; He had to think as his mind was really elsewhere.
“Umm once on a school trip” He felt the Irish mans crotch. Boy! This Guy was hard he tried to massage the Guys dick, yep, he had a stiffy ok…But also, and more worryingly his “stiffy” had a trigger and was metal William screamed like a 5 year old girl and pounced back up the bed pulling the sheet over his torso
“What the FUCK is that?” he shrieked
“It’s a gun”
“I know it’s a gun! What the hell is it doing down there?” the man removed
his .38 and smiled at the petrified William.
“There “he said in his soft Irish brogue. “It’s gone” he smiled “Cocked too” he said. William was not amused. He said stiffly: ”Oh well!! That is so re-assuring”
“I think” began the man reaching over to stoke William, “I think…”
Suddenly there was a loud banging at the James’s door
“Flanagan” came a voice of authority “we know your in there, now come on out”
“SHIT” cursed Flanagan. “Now the Shit's really hit the fan”
“You don’t say?” snarled William
“Get dressed” well, William didn’t need telling twice. But then the idea that would have come sooner or later to hit Flanagan’s mind
“I have a hostage,” He shouted at the door. William froze
“What?” came a reply “are you kidding” Obviously the law did not believe Flanagan.
“Speak” ordered Flanagan
“What?””
“Speak” William swallowed; his throat was suddenly very dry.
“Hello” he said” hoarsely am only visiting, Infact I am getting dress-“Flanagan put his hand over Williams mouth “are you mad?” he glared at William. And then grabbed his weapon. William rolled his eyes.
“Move away from the door” said the police. It was obvious Flanagan was wanted for something but brains were something he was in need of… He began to perspire.”No.no YOU move away”
he stuttered “I have a gun and I will shoot your Fucking hand off if you try and open this door” not quite realising that that would in itself open the door thought William
“What about the boy?” Flanagan signalled with his gun to William to put on his clothes
“The boy is fine, for now”
“For now?” Mouthed a shocked William. Flanagan tried to shut William up with hand gestures.
It was then that William realised today was the wrong day to be wearing his
“Tinky-Winky” underwear
was a huge mistake they were too tight for one thing and
somehow he had managed to put
both legs into one leg hole. And…
… What happened next really should be explained in slow motion
Losing his balance will’ lunged forward and fell straight onto Flanagan, whom much to the surprise of both Will’ and the office behind the door screamed more like a little girl than William did. The gun in Flanagan’s hand went off and shot a bullet into the door, Flanagan too lost his balance and fell over dropping the gun. There was a scramble for the gun and much to Williams surprise William got it he waved it in front of Flanagan
“I am very, very nervous” he warned Flanagan. The door was smashed open by the Law, and almost instant anxiously William fired a shot and smashed the Huge Butlers Wharf window into smithereens
“Oops” said William and dropped the gun
“Its ok son,” said the policeman handing William his trousers’ “you’re safe now”
It turned out. William had chosen as his “first” sexual partner a member of the IRA. And this member had now been captured.
William went home after three hours at the police station. His parents came to collect him, she said nothing and William said nothing either. They were silent on the drive home to Suburbia. But before he got out the car his mother put her hand on his arm
“We love you,” She said and added "Even if you are homosexual. Try not to make it the death of you. Your father will never mention this and I should imagine you want to put all this behind you too. Remember William. We all only have one life”
And so it transpired William first date was at gun point, my only question would have been how on earth did he find the courage to go out and do It all (minus the gun) again. Needless to say he did.
Flanagan was quickly drafted off to a prison Back in Ireland where he found five boyfriends and adopted the nickname “Snookles” And still received letters from William!
... James had the pleasure all of us have at some point in our lives:
the joy of cleaning up the flat AFTER the party.
He returned to the flat after leaving Ian at Chelsea and Westminster (at least it looked like their flat) there was the stench of cigarettes and burnt carpet, vomit and scotch eggs the scattered and deflated balloons reflected exactly how James felt. What a night! Well despite James’ inner anal retentive need to get the hell on and clean up he decided to grab a
quick “up to the minute” Ceefax news page on the TV. As usual the RC was playing hide and seek Then James realised the remote control wasn’t the only one playing. Namely the TV, the Hi-Fi about 40 books 60 CD's 20 Dad’s and a Bonsai tree called “Charlene” In one word. Well four: James had been burgled
“Oh my god!” I said I had Richard who had come around to my flat when he heard Kije was dead. He was trying his very best to make designer Rabbit food into something resembling a salad. I turned round to have more privacy on my ‘Cell
“What is it?” called Richard from across the sofa (well why else would I be making salad?)
“James has been burgled” I informed Richard.
“JAMES hasn’t lost his sense of hearing “snapped James back
“Who is it that you are informing about my loss?” Said James almost on the verge of cryiong (god forbid)
“It’s only Richard,” I said
“ONLY Richard” Barked Richard I held him at arms length
“Of course we will be right over”
“Right over? Over where? When? Huh?” said Lloyd from The leather chair. After The death of Kije he had taken one of my Tranquillisers and was really not used to them.
“It’s ok darling “I said and kneeled down and kissed him on the forehead “Richard and I are just popping out for a short walk”
" are we?” said Richard I gritted my teeth and nodded then I pointed to the squiddgy tomatoes
and limp lettuce sitting sadly on the counter in the kitchen that he had attempted to changeand then looked meaningfully back at Richard.
“Oh yes” he said suddenly “off out now” I guess faced with a domestic
trauma or Richards cooking there was no contest.
I jotted down a quick letter and turned my mobile on. Then Richard and I jumped into a cab and made our way to Islington.
When we arrived the flat was no more of a mess then James was. It was one of those rare times James had been near his “real” emotions and to him it was uncharted territory
“I was going to tidy up but” his voice dwindled off. He slumped and put his elbow into a cucumber dip. Richard homed into the Party snacks James stopped him when he saw what he was doing
“What” said Richard taking a healthy portion of avocado dip on a taco? “It’s only going to go to waste”
“No” said James defiantly. Richard ignored him
“Darren puked over that table” he said “that’s not avocado dip” it was only seconds before Richard was doing an action replay down James Loo.
“Leave him,” I said smiling at James pale face “it worked for Diana” He smiled too. But it was only brief
“What am I going to do?” he said mournfully “I leave my Job next week, how am I going to replace all this stuff?”
“Have you any idea who did this?” I said slowly. James threw me a look “It wasn’t Pierre” he said defiantly “Pierre has gone to see his X boyfriend in Canterbury” he said to Richard.
“But still”
“Still nothing” said James. “I told you he was on a train last night I can hardly see him going unnoticed with a Hi Fi a TV and forty books and numerous CD’s “
“And Charlene” I said smiling
“Besides which you have probably phoned his X to find out if he was there” Added Richard pouring himself a glass of water. The fixed, silent look James gave Richard said it all.
So be fore James DID say it all I said
“OK we’ll get this place tidied up at least” Richard nodded and immediately began to clean up. Then we will see about the recovery off all that stuff.
Suddenly and without warning James just burst into tears and didn’t stop for two hours. We all had seen it coming we just didn’t know when or where.
Getting over the loss of anything is it human, animal or material is never easy. Some people like Lloyd just fill themselves up on tranqs’ others just shut their emotions away. But soon the damn of emotion breaks. As I say, Kije was going to be fine he had a cold, nothing more nothing less but if we had not taken him to the Vets and got him the proper medication he could have died. A simple course of antibiotics saw to his recovery. But what antibiotics could James take? The final brick in his emotional damn had been broken and the floodgates had let rip. The fact that
he had been seeing a kleptomaniac, that he had a mother that did not understand him, and now no Job, no possessions had been all emotions that had been suppressed, and finally it had reached the stage in James’ mind where there were there were no more pigeon holes left.
Just like the vomit on Ian’s Polo shirt: it all comes out; the question is: When we are confronted by all this emotion are we ready for it? Or, like James, as he sat amongst the deflated balloons and paper dishes, are we just one more step closer to that inevitable breakdown?
more later
ADDISON
