Read Online Christmas At Leo's - Memoirs Of A Houseboy by Gillibran Brown - Free Book Online Page A

ugly. Look, Lee. Being gay doesn’t mean you fancy every lad you clap eyes on. You don’t fancy every lass you meet.”
    “True.” He took a breath and then punched me on the shoulder. “You cheeky get. I am not ugly.”
    “We okay then?”
    “Yeah, we’re okay.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I suppose things could be worse, Gil.”
    “How?”
    “You could have come out as a Millwall supporter as well.”
    We cracked up, laughing like idiots. When we sobered we talked. He asked tentative embarrassed questions, which I did my best to answer. At the finish, he said it didn’t matter what I was or who I fancied, as long as it wasn’t him. I was his best mate and mates stuck together. It meant a lot to me.
    And so I came out as a gay boy. It wasn’t an easy process and it never will be, not until society sorts itself out and starts affording GLBT people the same rights as everyone else. I didn’t shout my sexuality from the rooftops, but I didn’t deny it either. I researched and read about other people’s experiences of being gay. I joined a support group and met other young gay people. I tried to tell myself I deserved to live and be happy just as much as anyone else.
    When I went home that evening, my mother looked shattered, as if she’d been crying all day. I felt awful. I didn’t mention my feeble suicide attempt. I told her I was sorry for disappointing her. She said she was sorry for her reaction, explaining she was afraid because she knew life would be more difficult for me. All she wanted was for me to be happy. She suggested I talk things through with Father O Gormon, to see if he could help me ‘get over it’. It hurt me more, implying that what I was going through could somehow be corrected with a few good prayers. I knew it was shite, because I’d tried.
    Things returned to normal, on the surface at least. She and I never discussed my sexuality again. There’d been a faint crack in our relationship ever since she’d married Frank. After coming out I was conscious of it widening. She seemed more distant. If we consult our old pal Retrospect he’d say the distance came as much from me as from her and in some respects it was a natural part of the growing up process. The teenage years are a crossroads for kids and their parents, the point where the tracks begin to diverge.
    Frank’s reaction when he found out was toxic. He shouted about it being typical of me to cause trouble and bring shame on the house by leaning in a different direction to everyone else. He also said me being a filthy queer was no surprise to him. He could have predicted it with his eyes shut. He’d always thought I was a snivelling Nancy boy. My mother got angry and told him not to call me names. He claimed he was doing me a favour because name-calling was something I’d have to get used to as a back door bandit.
    I’d catch him looking at me sometimes and grinning as if he was enjoying a private joke. It got on my nerves. The aggression between us accelerated at a rate of knots. We couldn’t be in the same room without shouting insults at each other.
    The train intercom system cut off my memory flow, crackling into action with the announcement my stop was approaching. I got to my feet.
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Three - Birds Trifle
     
     
    There was a flower stall near the station exit, reminding me of Shane’s directive to buy mum a Christmas arrangement. Shit! I cursed inwardly. I’d forgotten to pick up the money from the chest of drawers. He’d left fifty quid. I didn’t have enough cash on me to cover the purchase of a fancy bouquet and nor did I have enough left in my current account to draw on. My December wages hadn’t yet gone in and my modest overdraft facility was at capacity. I’d have to use my credit card and pocket the cash when I got home. I’d bank it and pay it off my credit card bill when it came in. I was beginning to build up a veritable MasterCard debt again. I’d been using