by Swan, Tarn
We're supposed to be there for eight. It’s a quarter too now and Twinks is still deliberating about whether to wear a Kate Moss dress or a Lily Allen number. Sometimes I yearn for a simpler life, one uncluttered by celebrity frock deliberations and unsullied by chocolate cocks on the front gate.
24th June ~ Houses Need No Discount
Another mixed kind of day here in our speck of the universe, one moment the sun is shining and the next it's raining again. The sky is oddly beautiful, composed of translucent greys and soft smudgy blues shimmering with moisture.
We've had Gabby staying with us this weekend. Frank and Katie went to Scotland on Friday afternoon to visit Katie's brother who lives there. It was his fortieth birthday and the planned celebration was not a suitable event for a ten-year-old girl. They got back late this afternoon. Frank looked like hell and had obviously thrown himself heart and soul into partying. He had bags under his eyes that had bags of their own. It was an impressive post party face.
She's an easy guest is our Gabrielle. She likes to help out with things and of course she loves being around Twinkles and all his lovely things. I took her with me yesterday when I met him for lunch as per usual for a Saturday. We went to a pub restaurant not far from where he works. It has gorgeous views of the River Tees. Twinks caused some bemusement to Gabby and I when he suddenly pointed at a post marking the bridle path outside the window and proclaimed: “that sign says houses need no discount. What does it mean, houses need no discount?”
The people at the next table erupted into laughter. Gabby broke it to Twinks that the wooden post actually read: horse riders need not dismount. He loftily claimed he'd misread it because the sun had been in his eyes. I said nothing. It wasn't the right moment.
Last night Gabby sat watching enthralled as he transformed from work-a-day Jonathan into the glamorous Miss Stardust Twinkles in preparation for going out. She breathlessly told him he was the most beautiful lady in the world, which of course he lapped up. He allowed her to wear one of his wigs and made her up too. I did not approve and said so. They exchanged looks that clearly said ‘he's so old fashioned’ and then they carried on regardless.
She can't wait to be old enough to dress up and go to the PP with him. He says she's his fag hag in waiting, which is something else I disapproved of. I loathe that ugly expression.
Before he left I took him aside and warned him to behave and not get drunk and to be home at a reasonable hour. We had a young guest to consider and another one heading our way in the morning in the shape of Dominic. I didn't want him staggering home in the early hours with a load of paralytic cronies in tow and throwing an impromptu party.
He stiffly said that sometimes he didn't think I held him in high regard and he was wounded that I thought he had so little sense of decorum, deeply wounded.
I apologised and said I had every faith in his sense of decorum. He was home by one, alone and I won't say sober, but nor was he drunk.
The right moment for having a word with him regarding the house discount incident came this morning after he’d paid an early visit to the bathroom. He climbed back into bed and made to pull his satin sleep mask down over his eyes again. I stopped him and said we needed to have a chat about his pretty peepers.
I voiced my concerns, which he then dismissed, maintaining he’d misread the sign because the sun was directly in his eyes. I told him there was no shame in needing glasses and there were some nice frames available, pretty ones. He snootily put me in the picture and in my place regarding the matter of glasses, frame and shame.
“For your information, Tarn dear, I’m not ashamed because I don’t need frigging glasses, okay, and even if I did, which I don’t, I wouldn’t wear them anyway. Glasses are hideous. They don’t make any kind of fashion statement. They simply say here is a person with defective eyesight. They do not frame the eyes, they obscure. I am not spending hours applying, curling and putting mascara on luscious long false eyelashes only to hide them behind a pair of specs. My eyes are fine, how many more times do I have to tell you that?”
I casually broached the possibility of contacts and was taken aback by his reaction. He was honestly upset and asked had I forgotten the trauma he had suffered, the near loss of an eye due to a frigging contact lens! Just the thought of popping one in his eye brought him out in a sweat of fear and made him feel sick. Besides how many more frigging times was he going to have to say it, he didn't need specs or contacts, end of story.
I begged humble forgiveness for my contact lens insensitivity. A lot of people are squeamish about putting things in their eyes even without suffering a trauma like that. He forgave me and settled down for some more shuteye while I mulled over our conversation. It was clear he was rabidly anti-glasses and contacts were out of the frame so to speak. Perhaps that’s why he was refusing to admit there was a problem at all?
I considered playing the heavy Dominant card and making him go for an eye test under threat of discipline, but really did I have the grounds? He didn’t have an illness that was conclusively causing him a problem. It would be different if he were in danger of going blind. As things stand it’s a situation to be monitored.
Time to sign out. My adorable godson is demanding my attention. He wants me to play skittles with him, Gabby and ‘Tinks.’
25th June ~ Baby Face
It’s late, but I can’t sleep. I’ve got acid indigestion. I've eaten my way through several Rennie tablets and am sipping peppermint tea in the hope it helps ease my symptoms. Twinks is sleeping like one of God’s chosen, bless him, I’m envious. I blame my stomach misery on the prawn mayo sandwich I had for my lunch at work today. I don’t think it was as fresh as it ought to have been. I suspect the prawns might have glowed green in the dark.
I had a rather interesting phone call after dinner this evening. It was from Big Mary. He had some news for me regarding a young man of our recent acquaintance. The young man in question was a guest at Teddy and Maurice’s evening of summer pleasures last Thursday. He turned up in tow with Natalie. The lad, Jason, caused a stir on several counts. For a start he stirred up and annoyed Teddy on account of not being formally invited to attend the do in the first place.
Taking Natalie quietly aside Teddy loudly berated her for bringing a guest without prior arrangements with her hosts. It was not only rude it was indiscreet, given the nature of the people attending the party, some of whom might be uncomfortable at having an outsider present.
Nat humbly apologised and said there was no need to worry about indiscretion, as Jason was sympathetic to the cause. He explained he’d met him via an online TV/TG/TS/CD dating site. Jason had advertised as a novice seeking knowledge. They’d exchanged a few emails and had only met in person for the first time the day before. Nat had let slip he was attending a party where there would be an assortment of transvestites. Jason had begged to come along.
Nat then flattered Teddy by saying he wanted to show Jason the best of the best when it came to dressing la femme. Teddy graciously forgave Nat her social faux pas and welcomed Jason telling him if he had a genuine interest in transvestites then he was amongst some of the best and would be wise to watch listen and learn.
To say Jason was baby-faced was something of an understatement. He was a pretty delicate little thing, all of five foot five with a wide-eyed gaucheness about him that suggested he hadn't yet fully circled the block. Natalie came in for some serious ribbing.
Twinks asked when her little boyfriend was due to start puberty. He told her she'd better be careful because when his mummy noticed her infant son had been snatched from his cradle she'd call the police and Nat could get arrested for child abduction.
Teddy asked if Jason preferred to drink orange squash or milk. Lulu asked if his parents knew where he was and had he asked their permission to stay out late.
Natalie huffily stated that Jason wasn’t her boyfriend as yet, he was merely her date for the evening and besides he was fully legal. He was nineteen and just didn't look hi
s age, unlike some she could mention. Twinks told her she shouldn't be so hard on herself and then asked Jason if he were enjoying school.
Jason blushed a little at all the teasing, but seemed to thoroughly enjoy being the centre of attention. He won many of the girls over by admiring and commenting on their clothing, jewellery and makeup. He was like an excited child in a toyshop and I suspected he was younger than his claimed age of nineteen.
Lulu was inclined to be envious that Nat had stumbled across a young male of the species who enjoyed being around transvestites. He asked Nat for the website address they’d met on. Twinks acidly commented that he thought Lu had the address of every gay and transgender dating site on planet earth and had been through most of the men on them. Lu then turned to Jason and advised him not to date men in frocks especially those who had friends in frocks, as they were evil bitches.
Twinks was actually rather sweet with Jason, patiently answering his questions and promising him a personal makeup application workshop at a later date.
Teddy revealed the ulterior motive behind his evening of summer pleasures by proudly unveiling his new ‘Dance Studio.’ It was a rather grand title for a downstairs reception room that had been cleared of all furniture, given a laminate floor, mirrors and a wooden practice bar along one wall.
Twinkles turned a fine shade of envious and began making noises about clearing our dining room to make way for a personal dance studio. I told him the dining room was remaining a dining room and if he so much as pushed a chair back against the wall without my permission I would tan his backside. He declared that dining rooms were so yesterday and I needed to get with the times. I cared not. I like having a dining room.
Leaving the dancing queens to pirouette in front of the ‘Dance Studio’ mirrors I sojourned to the dining room and got stuck into the fancy buffet. Big Mary joined me and we chatted. Jason came up as a subject of conversation and I voiced my suspicions about his age. Big Mary agreed and said he had the look of a lad still wet behind the ears on several counts and it might be wise to keep an eye on him.
Jason soon proved he had a lot to learn when it came to holding his liquor. He quickly fell victim to the potent cocktails on offer. The poor boy was all but staggering around in circles. Natalie took him out into the garden to get some fresh air and then panicked when he flaked out.
Big Mary and I ended up tending to Jason and comforting him as he vomited his guts up in Teddy and Maurice’s downstairs bathroom. He cried in between spewing, clearly frightened by how ill he felt, which again pointed to a young man who was much younger than he claimed to be.
When he’d sobered a little I insisted he divvy up an address so I could drive him home. I was cross with Natalie for not keeping an eye on the boy and for allowing him to get plastered. She snootily told me she wasn’t a fucking nursemaid and Jason was old enough to take care of himself.
Once home he refused to allow me to escort him to his front door, saying his mother didn’t like strangers calling and he’d be fine. I watched him lurch up the path and fall into the house and then drove back to Teddy’s place.
Big Mary’s phone call this evening confirmed my suspicions about Jason’s age. He was baby-faced for a very good reason. He is a baby. He’s just fourteen years old and not the nineteen he’d conned Natalie into believing he was. I was shocked.
Big Mary had discovered the truth by accident. He does voluntary work as a counsellor helping young people come to terms with their sexuality. He was doing a talk at a secondary school on the subject of tolerance towards GLBT teenagers as part of an anti-bullying campaign and had spotted and recognised Jason in the audience. Fortunately Jason didn’t recognise BM in his out of drag civvies.
He contacted Natalie immediately to tell her she was keeping company with a schoolboy and therefore potential jailbait. She was horrified and embarrassed. Fortunately nothing of a sexual nature had happened between them. She had not so much as nibbled the jailbait let alone partaken of a full course. She got in touch with Jason via email and told him she had found out his real age and as such it was inappropriate for them to associate in any capacity. Big Mary had supplied her with details of a local support group for young transgender people, which she passed on to him.
Twinks wanted to offer Jason some personal help and support, but Big Mary has advised him to steer clear and let Jason get detached professional support.
I hope the boy gets the help he needs. I can’t help but feel sorry for him, as Twinkles sadly observed, the poor lamb has got a hard road ahead, one littered with prejudice. Those of us born under the rainbow don’t have an easy time in general and some have it even harder than others.
My tea is finished. It’s time to make another attempt to claim some sleep. Bring it on Mr Sandman.
27th June ~ The Garage Man
I’m the soon to be owner of a brand new second-hand car. Twinks claims to be unimpressed. He’ll come round when he sees it properly. He’s only glimpsed it so far.
He went straight out from work yesterday evening. He and Lu wanted to go to the cinema to see Ratatouille, a Pixar animation about a rat who turns chef. I declined to join them. After my own ratatouille experience I didn’t want anything to do with rats, not even animated ones. I played chauffeur. He used the staff facilities to change out of his suit and into a pair of jeans and a fitted white shirt. I dropped him off outside the cinema where Lu was waiting for him and then headed home, stopping off at the chippy on the way to pick up a portion of cod and chips for my dinner. I was looking forward to a quiet night in.
I was washing up my plate and cutlery when the phone rang. It was Stuart Cramer. He asked if I’d sorted out a car yet. I said no and confessed to still riding around in a rented chariot. He said great because he had a used car he thought I might be interested in, a BMW. It was in excellent condition and an excellent price. I was interested. He offered to drive it over for me to have a look at. I agreed and twenty minutes later he knocked on the front door.
The car was a class number inside and out. He asked if I wanted to take it for a test drive. I grinned and said oh yeah. It handled beautifully. I was sold. I loved it and was looking forward to being a car owner once again. After the drive I invited him in to have a coffee and discuss financial matters.
We sorted things out and were sitting chatting when the front door clattered open. It was the cinemagoers. Lu obviously needed the toilet because after yelling a greeting he dashed straight upstairs. Twinks walked into the living room. I smiled at him and said, “you’re back early, what’s wrong? Film no good?”
“It was great, what we saw of it. The projector broke down and they couldn’t get it…” he trailed off as he clocked Stuart. His jaw all but dropped. Storm clouds swiftly moved across his face. Putting a hand on his hip he glared at him and then at me. “What is he doing here?”
I answered putting what I hoped was a warning note in my voice. “Stuart kindly brought a car over for me to look at.”
“Oh did he now,” he treated Stuart to another glare, “and how did he know I’d be out?”
Stuart grinned and answered for himself. “I didn’t. It was sheer good luck.”
Before Twinks could retaliate Lulu bounced into the living room. “Did Twinks tell you about…” he too trailed off as he caught sight of Stuart. It was as far as emulation went. No storm clouds passed over his fair face. It was sunshine all the way.
I thought I detected a flicker of interest cross Stuart’s face as he eyeballed Lulu who, like Twinks, was in dressed down casual mode wearing jeans and a blue checked shirt. He’d also gotten rid of his recent raven black locks in favour of a subtler dark blonde look that suited him much better.
Lu beamed a smile at Stuart. “Oh, hello, and who are you? I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure, yet.”
Before I could make an introduction Twinks growled, “it’s the garage man, Stuart Cramer. Tarn’s stalker.”
Lulu offered his hand to Stuart. He also offered an invitation.
“I’m Lu and you can stalk me anytime.”
Stuart laughed politely and shook Lu’s hand.
“Come on. I’m starving.” Twinks tucked his arm through Lu’s. “Let’s leave Starsky and Hutch to car talk. We’ll go in the kitchen and order a Chinese. I’ve got a menu for the Banana Leaf.”
I think Lu would have preferred to stay, but he didn’t get a chance. He was whisked off to the kitchen. Twinks parting words to Stuart were, “I hope you haven’t sold my husband a heap of scrap metal. He might be easily taken advantage of, but I’m not. I’ll sue.”
“Sorry.” I pulled an apologetic face, as the living room door closed with an acidic click. “He doesn’t mean to be rude.”
Stuart shook his head. “Don’t be offended, Tarn, but have you ever considered giving your pouty pretty lady boy a smacked arse?”
I gave a mild smile. “It may have crossed my mind a time or two.”
“His friend is a nice looking lad, is he one of,” he paused, “you know, like your man? I noticed he was wearing nail varnish.”
I nodded confirmation.
“Shame.”
“There’s no shame in it, Stuart. It’s who he is. He’s a real sweetheart.”
“I’m sure he is. I meant no offence. It’s just I couldn’t cope with all that feminine stuff. It’s not my scene. I don’t get it at all.”
“I didn’t get it either, until I met Twinkles and realised I didn’t have to get anything, except him.”
“Twinkles,” he grimaced slightly, “is lucky to have you. What’s his real name by the way?”
