CHAPTER 36
Elaine and Siá¢n had to work before New Year, and, in fact, my sister had drawn the short straw of THAT night shift, so it was off with the four of them on the 27th for the long drive back to West Wales.
I was quite emotional, as I saw off my parents for the very first time from my family’s home. Jim was unhappy, at losing four people who had been spoiling him rotten, as well as having to stop doing something he enjoyed.
He was back in his own bed. Dear Social Services, no we are not abusing this poor child, he really does enjoy sleeping on the floor in a cupboard. Honest.
I was also back at work, following the break, and dispensing analgesics for a variety of sprains, burns, twists and other symptoms of loss of balance whilst refreshed. Anne was covering the assistant’s slot as we whacked out the little paper bags as quickly as we could. She seemed quite subdued, which I put down to simple post-excess reaction. At lunchtime she was out of the door on her break as if she was on a mission, but that afternoon I distinctly heard her stomach growl. No lunch, then.
At Christmas, while we do close for some of the week, we are open every day except for Christmas and Boxing Days and January the first. We spread days off around the team, so that everyone gets a few days for family things. Anne did exactly the same thing on the 29th and 30th, and was clearly not going for food when she shot out of the door. New Year’s Eve, we had Alice, Suzy and Andy in, as Anne took her privilege day
The odd days between the Christmas bank holidays and New Year are a little hiccup on the work front. As people manage to get to their doctors just after the first set of days off, they rush to get their prescriptions filled before the next day off, and New Year’s Eve, if not already manic outside the store, gets frenetic inside it. I had, yet again, drawn the short straw as the duty pharmacist for that night, so my NYE would be at home watching people other than myself get merry. Then again, as I think I have hinted, I didn’t mind being with family on such a night. Andy had a quiet chat with me in the lock up that afternoon as we mixed and measured and counted pills into bottles.
“Sar, what are you all doing tonight?”
“Sitting at home watching silly music shows and staying sober. I’ve got the short straw tonight, remember?”
“Would you mind a visitor?”
“I thought you would be out clubbing”
“Not this year, Sar. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking over the last few days. I think a night in with friends makes more sense for once. I’ll try anything once, except incest and necrophilia”
Tony had offered him a drink. Sod it. “You know where we are?”
“Rough idea, just need the number”
“It’s 9”
“OK. Nibbles?”
“I am sure a small stop-up would appreciate them”
“See you tonight then”
Suzy wandered over to me later. “Was Andy asking to pop round for the evening?”
Alice was listening behind her. I looked her in the eye briefly, and then replied to Suzy.
“Yes, he was”
“Andy, sober, on New Year’s Eve, in a family setting…can I bring popcorn?”
I looked at Alice, and she nodded sharply, once, and slipped away.
“Yeah, OK, you know the street?”
“Yeah, number 9, you said?”
“Yup”
As we locked up later, I badgered Alice. “What are you up to?”
“Moving and shaking, my darling. Sometimes you just have to shake the tree”
She looked serious. “Stick by me tonight, please”
“Always. You know that”
She was silent on the drive home, and I left her to her thoughts. A lot of this was obviously as a response to Andy’s comments, but it was becoming more and more evident, at least to me, that Alice had decided she had had enough, and was starting to push harder at the closed door she saw in front of her. Well, her choice. That sounds callous, but that’s not so. I had used that phrase ‘do or die’, and I suspected that that nasty little choice still rankled in her soul; better hurt than dead.
I brought Tony (who had the night off, hooray) and Enid up to speed while Alice changed, and then at about seven, as Jim watched Harry Potter, we started laying out the ritual offerings, the bowls of nuts and crisps, cocktail sausages, dips, cheeses and biscuits, and an array of bottles and glasses. Tony waited for the end of the film.
“Right, sonny Jim, bath and pyjamas! Up, up, up!”
Off the two of them went, and I started the business of leaving small bowls in various corners. Jim was down fresh and fluffy in half an hour, and I had a little moment remembering another bathroom, another day. Tony caught my smile, and grinned as he came over for a kiss. The doorbell went at eight thirty, and there was Andy, neatly casual and carrying a wine box and a carrier bag of what turned out to be olives, celery, raw carrots and hummus, together with a bundle of baguettes.
“Where’s the kitchen, Sar? I’ll get the carrots prepared”
I left him peeling and slicing with Alice, and shortly afterwards Janet arrived, armed with more booze and a couple of home made quiches. She joined the others n the kitchen to get everything squared away, while Jim ignored everything except the empty bowls.
“When are you putting the Quality Street out, Mummy?”
Individually wrapped chocolates. Small boy. Dressing gown with pockets.
“When we have more people here, cariad”
“Mummy, when are you going to teach me that thing you speak? It would let me speak to Nana Sioned and Granddad!”
I was touched, but realised if he learnt the old language it would end our chances of not-for-small-ears chats, so I gave him Mummy answer Number 1.
“When you’re a bit older, love”
Suzy arrived at nine, looking a bit glamorous in heels and short dress. It turned out she was off clubbing on Castle Street afterwards. I wondered where she wanted to see in the actual New Year.
“In you come, booze to the left, nibbles to the right, bog first left at top of the stairs”
She entered the living room after I took her coat and headed for out ‘bar’ to drop her bottle.
“Hiya, Suze, looking hot hot hot!”
“Hiya, Andy, doesn’t work on me! Hiya Jim, Tony! Oh fucking hell……”
She stammered out an apology to Tony. Alice just smiled.
“Hi, Suzy, really glad you could come. I’m Alice”
Andy looked up from the settee. “You’re flycatching, girl”
Suzy shut her mouth, and stammered for a little while . Alice walked over and gave the unresisting Suzy a hug, then sat her down on the settee as Andy shuffled over to make room.
“I’m Jim’s adopted aunty. When I am at work I have to pretend to be a man”
There was a snort from my right, but I couldn’t tell whether it was Janet or Enid. Jim didn’t care, he was watching some shit Scottish dancing thing on the box. I looked again, and started to laugh, pointing at the screen. Janet got it first. After a couple of choked “Men in skirts!” we were loftily informed by a very young man that they were kilts, not skirts.
Alice and Andy, with Enid hovering, took Suzy to one side to explain out of earshot. She looked dazed. From a distance, I watched as her face went through the various changes I expected, and then into the one I had been hoping for, ending up in a crunching hug. I was touched when she gave the same hug to Andy, and a gentle kiss on the cheek. They came back over, as Jim watched the kilts bouncing, and all Alice said to me about it was “This makes sense now. Andy, you keep your depths stupidly well hidden”
Slowly more people arrived, colleagues of Tony, and we switched the box over to Jools Holland’s music show, which kept Jim happy, though that may have been the Quality Street’s arrival. The countdown started, and I filled the one glass of wine I could risk.
Now, you all know how it goes. There’s the ritual shout of HNY, then people grab people for their first snog of the year, there’s a bastardised version of Auld Lang Syne, and then it’s right back to the refreshments.
The doorbell went. First foot. I opened it, and was presented with the odd sight of a man standing on a footstool. It was Pat, holding a bottle and a piece of coal.
“Happy New Year to yez all, Sar! This is your tall, dark and handsome first foot. I couldn’t actually manage the first one, so I brought the stool. Now, where’s Tony? This is Jameson’s 12 year old, sherry casked!”
***WARNING***
This is a very short 'what if' taken from a suggestion from one of my Dear Readers, who can claim credit if they feel they wish to. It is unpleasant and nasty, and written to take the taste of a bad day from my mouth. There is nothing redeeming about either of the characters in this piece. Read with caution.
COLD FEET. AN INTERLUDE
Joe was pissed off. This was the sixth pharmacy post he had applied for since moving over to London. Each time they had said no, and each time he had ridden the tube back to the shitty little bedsit he had found in Tower Hamlets. Cunts, all of them. Always, always, they had turned him down, and he was getting fucked off with having to wash the smell of burger grease from his clothes before the interviews. Nobody else had a paying job for him, so he made the trek each day to the Jobcentre Plus (fucking plus. Plus what?) and they gave him the vacancies, and he went for the interview, and the cunts just sent him that standard fucking letter.
He wanted to scream, and when he did, it hurt, and the memories came back. The boots going in, the punches, the way they had picked him up so they could take turns hitting him till he had felt, really heard, the bones n his face start to break.
Every night, the same nightmare. The biggest one, the blond one with the drooping tache, the way he had smiled when he asked Joe if he really liked having his cock sucked. The knife had flicked into view.
“Perhaps….” as the knife went out of sight, moved downwards, “perhaps if I just cut it off now, and then you can have it to suck for your very own”
And that was when he had pissed and shat himself, simultaneously, and he had felt the warmth, and then they had just walked away and left him in his own filth, and all because of that fucking prick teasing tranny.
She had loved his cock, though. Didn’t she just love to gobble.
Three days later he had another interview, in Leytonstone. There were four other candidates, two niggers, a wog and a tart. That settled it. They would either pick the slit or one of the darkies, tick the fucking PC box and keep a good British man out of a job.
Cunts.
The bitch had a smell about her, as if she had left her pits to fester. Probably a dyke, then. They never washed, he had read that they liked the smell. She wasn’t that bad for a dyke, and he had a moment imagining her munching away on some other slit’s cunt, and there was a little twitch from Mr Happy. Ever since the doctors had cut what was left of his nut from the bag, he had had problems getting it up. He kept seeing a smile, a blond moustache, a knife.
The smelly bitch leant over to him, and muttered “No fucking chance here with these niggers. Fancy just fucking off and grabbing a pint?”
Fuck, might not be a dyke. Joe realised he could probably put up with her smell long enough. Her tits looked a decent size, and if her cunt was a bit manky, there was always her arse. Now, there was a thrill…he suddenly regretted not taking the opportunity to arse fuck that tranny. She had been pretty enough…..
They ended up in a pub in shitty Clapton. She was straight into it, drinking lagers with a shot of rum n them. Joe watched her throw them back, and realised this was his lucky night. Or afternoon.
They ended up at his place. The clothes were coming off before the door was shut, and before they were all off she was on her knees and fuck, did the whore know how to suck a cock. She spat him out and asked the dreaded question.
“What happened to your other bollock?”
“Cancer” he lied. A smile, a moustache, a knife….no, a hot mouth, a bobbing head, and a cunt that needed a good fucking. If she was a dyke then that ended tonight. He still had his cock.
Oh god she was climbing onto him, and that cunt was so warm……
Julie ground her clit hard against him. It wasn’t the biggest cock n the world, but it would have to do. He was an arsehole, was Joe. She knew as soon as they spoke, when her special situation with her bodily secretions had clearly disturbed him.
Soap is unnatural; the body is self cleaning, if you let it do so.
The grinding was working for her, and it seemed as if it was for him too. She started to claw his chest, and realised that for the first time for years she was coming.
Joe watched her twitch above him and realised she was coming, and that pushed him over the edge, and he felt his remaining ball start to unload through his straining cock.
Julie felt herself come as Joe’s cock started to twitch and squirt deep inside her, but, hey ho, not that deep.
She pulled off him, and after a quick cuddle left the shitty little flat. Yet another twat, another turd who couldn’t even see how the body cleaned itself. She had noticed. Each time she moved, he had flinched. Just like all the other bastards. But she knew what they needed, oh yes…
His jizz was still dripping out as she dressed. On the way out of the flat she made sure to headbutt one of the walls, and once on the street she found somewhere out of range of any obvious CCTV and gave her clothes a good ripping. She was careful not to disturb the skin she had gathered beneath her finger nails.
At the police station, she waited outside to see who was about and then..
In.
“Oh god help me I’ve been raped….”