Adult-FanFiction.org : Celebrity

Dead as a doornail	By : fundamellie Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Pet Shop Boys Views: 798 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the celebrity I am writing about. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
I did not mind sitting on the parquet because the parquet was mine. The armchair behind me was mine, the sitting room was mine and what was even better was the fact that the time ahead of me was mine as well. I could make amends and see things to a happier outcome. I could and I was very determined to do so. It took me a moment to recollect my thoughts and to shake the lingering feeling of dread and hopelessness.
“Get up, you fool,” I muttered to myself after a while. The cold from the bare floor crept through the thin fabric of my pyjama pants and I felt goose bumps rising once more. Only this time this made me chuckle. It was really rather funny, waking up in my sitting room, sitting on the floor, dressed in pyjamas, dressing gown and slippers and planning Christmas, even though the holiday ought to be in the past by three weeks or a full eleven and half months ahead in time. It did not matter much to me, one way or the other. I was too glad to find myself in my own time, my head full of plans and good intentions.
I finally climbed back to my feet, wincing a little as I did so because my joints had gone rather stiff during the night. Looking around, I smiled. There was the table where all of the food the Spirit of Christmas Present had brought with him had been placed; there were the shelves where all of the candles had stood. Very well! There was a shadow falling in from the window. It reminded me of the blackness surrounding the Spirit of Christmases to Come. Very well! I entered my bedroom and there was the bed on which the spirit of Christmas Past had sat. Very well indeed! I didn’t question what had happened. I didn’t doubt for a second that all of this was true. I would have sworn any oath by any God that all of the spirits had been real, that all of the visions had served a purpose and that I was a better man because of it. Trying to get out of all of my clothes at the same time, I had made a right mess out of it. I was so tangled up that I had to sit down on the unmade bed to free myself. I laughed it off; I had other things on my mind than little discomforts. After a quick shower I stood in the bathroom, facing myself in the mirror. Not bald yet, thank goodness. From what I had seen I calculated that it would take me another ten years to lose the last bit of hair. My face looked tired but determined and not wasted. No blood-shot eyes, no vacant stare. I swore to myself that it would stay like this.
The radio played in the background and suddenly I froze halfway through shaving. The host announced a song and for a second it seemed a bit much of a coincidence. As the previous song – it had been Robbie’s Tripping – faded, Jonathan Ross proclaimed that next he would play a song on special request. Somebody named Jeff had dedicated it to his old friend from up north and it came with best wishes for his mate’s future. Then the song started and it was Johnny Cash’s Walk the line. I almost dropped the electric razor into the sink. This was too crazy!
“I thought you were not going to haunt me, Jeffery,” I whispered under my breath and continued shaving. I sang along as best I could, not caring that Johnny’s voice and mine did not go very well together. But what the hell, the man in black was dead and I was quite positive that his ghost would not visit me.
When I was finally dressed in a sharp suit and extravagant tie, I paced around the flat for a while. I went to and fro, wanting to do a thousand things at once but not being able to make my mind up what to do first. Thinking of Jeffery, I finally picked up the phone and dialled my sister’s number. Susan answered after only three rings. She sounded a little out of breath.
“Morning sister,” I greeted her, grinning.
“Oh, it’s you. Hi, Neil!” she replied and a bit of surprise was audible in her voice.
“Not prepared for a call from your dear brother?” I teased.
“Not really,” she admitted and I could hear dogs barking behind her. “I mean, you didn’t phone since New Year’s Eve!”
“I’m really sorry, Susan and I mean it” I apologized. “Listen, I’ll explain when I see you next. Is everybody home next weekend?”
“Guess so,” my sister answered a bit reluctantly. “Why?”
I laughed. This was more difficult than I had thought.
“Why?” I repeated after her. “Well, can’t one come and visit his family? I thought I owe you guys one after we did not have a Christmas celebration together last year.”
I could picture how Susan stood there in her cosy kitchen, the dogs running around her legs, holding her breath and wrinkling her nose in disbelieve.
“But we all got your presents,” she objected.
“Yeah, I know,” I sighed. “It’s not about presents. It’s about being with all of you and having fun. Christmas or no Christmas. What do you think?”
“Alright,” Susan gave in. “Shall I prepare dinner?”
“No, love. You don’t have to prepare anything. Let me take care of everything for a change, okay?”
This made Susan laugh. “But if you do your brown rice with broccoli, I’ll never do flapjacks for you again. Ever!”
“Never fear,” I laughed. “I had something else in mind. “Can I ask you for a small favour now?”
I explained what I wanted my sister to do and even though she agreed to do me the favour; I could hear from her voice that she thought I was either mad or drunk.
I assured her repeatedly that I was neither but it did not seem to convince her. Well, it couldn’t be helped then! When she had hung up, I called Chris. His phone must have rung at least five minutes straight before he finally answered.
“Yeah?”
I threw a quick glance at my watch. It was only 10 o’clock in the morning, so it was likely that my friend had been still asleep.
“Hi Chris, it’s me.” I began. “Did I wake you?”
“Hope, you didn’t just call to ask that,” he grumbled. I had to bite my lip in order not to laugh out loud. Everything was just splendid this morning and nobody’s suspicion or bad mood could spoil that for me.
“No, I wanted to invite you to a little dinner party at my place tonight at 6 p.m.” I told him. “And I wanted to ask you what day it was.”
“What do you mean?” Chris asked. “What day it was?”
“Just what I said,” I explained. “I asked you what date we have and what day of the week it is.”
“Are you crazy?” Chris voice sounded even grumpier now.
“No, I just asked…”
Without letting me finish, Chris reluctantly answered. “Today’s Saturday, the 16th January. Do you need the year as well?”
“No, thanks,” I declined. “I guess I can get that right. What about the party? Are you coming?”
“Yeah, but only to see how many marbles you’ve lost now,” Chris shot back at me and hug up. I put the receiver back down as well and laughed once more.
It was the same day it had been when I had gone to bed! Saturday, 16th of January 2006. I had lost no time at all! The three spirits had crammed their visits all in one night. Past, present and future. All within a couple of hours. I thought that was marvellous, even though it wasn’t so surprising after all. I mean, those were spirits. If they could not do something like that, then there was no Christmas.
I had quite a busy schedule ahead of me if I wanted everything to be ready until
6 o’clock. I had to do some shopping, the dinner needed to be prepared and the flat had to be decorated. But before I could start, there was one last phone call to be made.
I dialled Daniel’s number and hoped that he was in and not out in the park with little Jeffery. After a small while, his voice answered.
“Parker, hello.”
“Hi Danny,” I beamed. “Listen, I don’t have much time now, but I wanted to invite you and Andrew to a little dinner party at my flat tonight at 6p.m.. Could you do me a favour and invite everybody else? If it’s okay, I’ll send you a text with all the names”
Daniel agreed but then again I did not really give him enough time not to. It was all going really well until now! I typed the list of names of people I wanted to invite and sent the text to Daniel. I could almost see him shaking his head incredulously at my whimsical request. Good, to have friends who stood by you even when you made no sense at all!
I went downstairs and put on a coat. Just when I was about to leave, my mobile beeped. I grinned. So Susan had done me the favour after all. Good old girl!
I opened the message and looked at the picture I had asked Susan to take and sent me. It was exactly what I had wanted and exactly how I remembered it, too. With a few commands I set the picture as a wallpaper. It made me smile to look at it. It really was a rather handsome carving, that lion’s head. The very thing it had all started with those three years ago. The lion’s head in which Jeffery’s ghostly face had first appeared.
It deserved to be honoured, I decided. As did Jeffery.
I went up and down King’s Road, doing all the shopping I had intended to do and more than just a little bit more on top. I was so heavily laden with bags and parcels that I had to send some of them home in a cab in between. My neighbour must have been really puzzled when the cab driver asked her if he could drop off his load with her and handed her a bunch of flowers with a small greeting card with best regards from me. At least she seemed rather flustered when I picked up all the stuff later. When I had unpacked and started the basic preparations, I called up Janet and persuaded her to come over to my place significantly earlier than 6 o’clock to do one of her famous Sunday roast lunches for me. Regardless of the fact that it was Saturday and it would be served as dinner. I won her over when I pretended not to know what to do with the parsnips and suggested putting both the chicken and the beef in the oven for far too long. I knew Janet could not stand the prospect of seeing what could be an excellent dinner ruined by somebody’s inability to cook.
So I had Daniel to take care of the guest list and Janet to take care of the dinner. All I had to do was set the table and do my decoration. After Christmas you could not find holly and mistletoe branches in any of the florists around Sloan Square. Fir alone looked a bit gloomy, so I had bought twigs with red berries and set those in small vases across the table. When I was done, I was rather pleased. Plates, glasses, silverware and the fine napkins were all in place. Red berries gleamed from the middle of the table. A full dozen tea lights would later lent a festive light. A tiny package sat on everybody’s plate. Not quite a present but rather a token of my affection. Each bore a name tag, so that those small personal items would find the correct owner. Splendid! I put a CD in the player and a left a stack of similar CD’s next to it, so that whoever would decide we needed music first knew what to play. Fine!
There was only one bit left to do and then I could leave again and set the most important part of my plan in motion. I sent a quick prayer heavenwards, asking for good luck.
I got out my video camera and put it on top of a shelf. I placed a chair a few meters away and tried to get that focused by the camera. I had to go back and forth between the camera and the chair to adjust the position. When I believed everything was alright, I started the recording and sat down in the chair. I was pretty nervous now and I messed up my little improvised speech at least three times but that was half as bad. I would simply rewind to the point where I had finally gotten it right. It wasn’t a long speech, only a little greeting. Well, maybe you could call it an apology as well. I felt my friends deserved it after all I had done or not done those past years.
I hesitated a little, now that everything I had been able to prepare was prepared. Now I would have to improvise. The prospect of facing the one person whose fate had shaken me worse than my own made me anxious but I also looked forward to seeing his face, hopefully lighting up by my news. I took a deep breath; there really was no reason to stay here any longer. Janet had a key so she could let herself in; I had left a short note for Daniel with some last minute instructions about what to do if all the guests were there before I had come back and I had put the video tape in the recorder. Nothing left to do. I sighed. Okay, then on to the last bit.
I put on my coat again and could not resist wearing my top hat as well. It simple was too Dickens. Despite of my sudden nervousness, I smiled softly to myself. One should always celebrate Christmas when the holiday was over. Maybe once a month. Now wasn’t that a splendid thought?
I decided to walk to my destination. First of all it was such a pleasant day and then I really needed a bit of time to think. The sky was blue when I stepped outside once more, the streets rather busy and the sunlight very bright. Everything seemed radiant and golden, from the houses and the cars to the people and even nature itself. I clasped my hands behind my back and walked along the river wherever I could. I followed it all the way down to Blackfriars Bridge where I crossed over to the south bank and continued to Bermondsey. Dressed up like I was I got quite a few looks from people. Maybe the top hat had been just a tick too much but I couldn’t care less, feeling almost like Michael Cain playing Scrooge in the hilarious Muppets rendition of Dickens classic tale. I took a little detour through Hay’s Galleria and the Borough Market. More last minute shopping. This time I didn’t need bags and parcels, I only bought an old-fashioned Winnie the Pooh card and a bunch of Forget-Me-Nots. I went to Starbucks Coffee, ordered a small Americano and sat down in one of those comfortable lilac armchairs. Sipping my coffee, I tried to think of something to write on the card. It wasn’t too easy to come up with something which sounded intriguing, apologetic and casual and did not give too much of my real intentions away. I decided on the following, rather vague lines:
“Dear boy,
Please accept the flowers from me. It’s only a little something to show that I have not totally forgotten you. Being me, I have a favour to ask of you at the same time. Could you meet me later today? At 4 o’clock? You’ll find me inside of St Patrick’s Church on Cornwall Road, which is near Waterloo Station. I’ll be somewhere near the front.
Hope to see you,
Yours,
Neil”
My hand shook a little as I wrote those words but I figured nobody would see much of a difference to my normal handwriting. Everybody always complained that it was virtually unreadable anyway and the one the message was intended for was well used to it by now. I walked the last couple of yards without much haste and let myself into the house. Good thing that I had kept the keys! Usually I do not mind taking the stairs as I hate elevators but as my target lived on the 7th floor, I was soon cursing my claustrophobia and lack of fitness. When I had reached my destination, I was out of breath but even this could not ruin my good mood.
Hoping that I would not be seen by the one I wanted to surprise, I walked along the corridor and put the little envelope and the flowers down on the doormat. It was too bad that I couldn’t hide anywhere and watch. With a shrug and one last glance at the arrangement, I turned around and walked all the way back down to the hall. I rang the bell at the same moment as the door fell shut behind me. Instead of lingering there I went straight to St. Patrick’s Church. It was 15.25 p.m. when I arrived there and luckily no service was in progress so the small church was virtually empty. When I entered, I could not see much at first in the murky darkness after the harsh brightness of the sunny winter’s day outside. After a few moments my eyes adjusted and I saw two elderly ladies whispering softly to each other in the distance near the altar. They seemed to be clearing away burned out candles and checking the flowers. Community workers, I assumed. They turned around as they heard my footsteps on the stone floor and nodded a friendly greeting. I smiled and nodded back and even remembered to take off the top hat.
I ambled down the aisle, taking my time to look at the odd carving in the stone, reminding us that some ancient knight or noble widow rested below our feet. The sun was right in front of the beautifully executed window panes of multi-coloured glass and covered the stones in front of the altar in little rainbows. The silence which wrapped itself around me seemed to be only deepened by the soft footfall of my steps and the hushed rustling of the two ladies. I stood and studied the scenes related in the glass for a while, remembering the stories from my childhood. The birth of Jesus. The miracles he worked. The passion. His death and ultimate resurrection as the saviour of mankind. All of that was described there above my head in simple glass and fantastic colours Memories danced through my head and even though most of religion’s appeal had been lost on me forever, I felt strangely moved by this place and its atmosphere. Finally the ladies were done and passed me by, still quietly talking among themselves.
“God bless you, sir,” one muttered and the other said:
“Have a good day!”
I whispered my thanks and greetings and watched them leaving the church. The heavy wooden door squeaked as it was pulled open, a tiny shaft of light fell through and noise form the street disrupted the quiet. I could hear hurried steps, the constant roar of the traffic, children laughing and loud music from a passing car. The din lasted only about 30 seconds and when the door had fallen shut again the silence seemed even profounder.
I placed the top hat on a wooden bench in the front pew facing the altar.
An impulse made me kneel in the aisle. When I looked up, I faced the crucifix next to the pulpit. It was an impressive work of art and I studied it for a while before I bowed my head and made the sign of the cross in front of my chest, getting ready for a prayer I had not known I wanted to say.
I prayed for everybody I had hurt. I prayed for a last chance with Stefan. I prayed for a good ending to this strange story. But I also prayed for forgiveness as well. The words that had haunted me when I had been a boy came back to me:
“…et omnibus Sanctis, quia peccavi nimis cogitatione verbo, et opere: mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa...”
When they left my lips in a whisper, I understood. I understood the meaning, the depths behind those words. I felt relief, not dread reciting them this time.
Only when a hand was placed on my shoulder, did I realize that somebody else had entered the church. I turned around, slightly startled by the disturbance. A smile spread across my face as I saw Stefan standing a step behind me. The boy looked puzzled.
A frown wrinkled his forehead and he stared down at me as if he couldn’t quite believe his eyes.
“Hello Stefan,” I said softly. “I’m so glad you came!”
“Hi Neil,” he answered. His voice was even, measured. It meant the boy had his guard up, that he was not quite certain what this was all about and that he was not ready to fully trust me. Well, who could blame him after all I had done to him?
“What are you doing there?” he asked, still looking down at me with that look of curious irritation upon his face.
“Praying,” I told him. “I was praying while I waited for you. I guess I’ve lost track of time”
It occurred to me that Stefan had never seen me kneel in front of any altar, had never witness me praying. He couldn’t have, for it was something I never did anymore.
Stefan arched an eyebrow and that gesture made me smile. It was something I always did and that he used to mock me for.
“Praying? You?” Disbelieve was heavy in his voice before he could catch himself.
“Did anything happen? Has… Has somebody…?”
“No,” I interrupted him quickly before he could get upset and got up.
“No, nobody has died.”
Stefan took a deep breath, obviously relieved. I dusted of my knees and looked at him for a long moment. He was still much too thin and so terribly pale. White skin and black rings beneath his eyes, which were red-rimmed and swollen.
“Don’t cry so much,” I thought. “Please, boy, stop crying. Start living. Please!”
I cleared my throat before I could speak.
“No bad news this time. Listen, Stefan, I asked you to meet me here because I have something to say to you. Five words to be precise. Do you think you want to hear them?”
Stefan paled a little more but nodded anyway. My brave little boy; he always took every blow without a complaint. Only this time no blow would be dealt
“Alright,” I began and took a step closer to him. I looked him directly in the eyes and I could see that he was fighting against tears. I wanted to take his hands in mine but he had crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“Alright,” I began again. “The first two words are: Forgive me. And the last three are: I love you.”
My voice was shaky and my heart was beating way to fast. I thought I had never been more nervous in my life. Stefan kept looking intently at me, his face unreadable for the moment. Then he staggered back and tripped over his own two feet. He landed on the floor and remained sitting there, staring up at me. Tears were now silently running down his cheeks. It was quite a heartbreaking sight. I was next to him in an instant, kneeling on the cold stone floor once more, wrapping my arms around his thin shoulders. He put up no resistance when I gently pulled him closer to me, so that his head came resting on my shoulder.
“Why do you say that?” He managed to ask after a while. “Why do you say that now?
I thought you didn’t want me anymore. I thought you never really loved me. I thought I was nothing but a burden. I …”
“Shh. Don’t say anything else right now.” I put one finger over his lips to silence him and indeed he stopped talking and looked up at me with those big, sad eyes of his.
I closed my eyes briefly and swallowed hard. I was on the verge of crying as well.
All of the hurt and the desperation that had become part of our relation ran so deep. My regrets were possibly no match for his pain but I hurt as well. I felt the loneliness inside of me, the fear of losing him. All the things I missed about being with him, sharing my life with him. The need. The longing. The hope. The love I felt for him. The love I had always felt for him. I had denied it, I had run from it but I had always felt it.
Dear God, our love had to run deeper than the hurt and the bitterness. It had to, it simply had to. Otherwise everything was lost.
“I say that now because it’s true. All of it. That I love you and that I ask your forgiveness. I know that no apology can make up for all the shit I’ve done. I know that I hurt you and I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you anymore.” I tried to explain what I felt but my own words sounded so confused to me. How could the boy make sense out of what sounded like the babbling of an old man?
“Get up. Please, Stefan, come on now!” I tried to drag him up with me and again he relented. I put an arm around his waist for support and manoeuvred him over to the pews. We sat down and for a long time the boy simply sat there, biting his lip, staring ahead at the altar. I sat next to him, watching him, not daring to speak or move. My mind was blank; I could not even repeat my earlier prayer. The only word that spun around in my head was please. As in: ‘Please do not leave me! Please give me a chance! Please love me. Please!”
The boy hung his head for a second, then wiped at his tear-stained face and looked at me.
“What do you want from me, Neil?” He asked.
I stared at him, at a loss for words.
“Tell you that I regret all of the things I’ve done. All of the mistakes I made. Tell you that I wish I hadn’t been so cruel and selfish. Beg you to believe that I mean what I say now, even though I lied to you too many times.” My voice broke and I saw that my hands were shaking in my lap. I got up from my seat and knelt in front of the boy. He looked irritated again but did not say anything.
“I only want you to… to…” I tried but still I did not have command over my own voice.
“I want you to love me. I want you back; I want you to let me love you. I want… you. Only you!”
The words were out of my mouth in a rushed, strangled whisper. I feared Stefan had not heard them. He did not reply; he just kept looking at me. I felt sick.
Had I cried wolf too many times in the past? Had Stefan become so weary of my promises that now when I meant every word, he did not believe me anymore?
“You… you do love me?” Stefan’s voice was not more than a whisper as well. I looked up at him and nodded.
“Yes, I do. So much”
The boy reached out a trembling hand and touched my face. He was crying again but laughed at the same time.
“You are crying,” he observed. “Why do you cry when you say you love me?”
“Because I fear that I’ve lost you. Because I was so stupid. So goddamn stupid!”
Stefan laughed again and it was a lovely little sound in this quite church.
“But I love you, too. You know. I do. I always have.”
I laughed as well, even though I was still crying. I took Stefan’s hands and kissed them.
“Do you take me back?” I asked him, forcing myself to keep looking at him.
“I promise I won’t hurt you again. I promise I won’t betray you again. I’ll do anything you want, but come back. I missed you so much.”
The boy nodded and whispered yes over and over. I felt dizzy all of a sudden.
“Do you forgive me?” I asked and before I had finished the question, Stefan had flung his arms around me and was somehow kneeling next to me. Laughing and crying we hugged and kissed and even managed to get up somehow. I held the boy as tight as I could and he did the dame, squeezing the air out of my lungs. When his sobs had died down, I stepped back a little. I was beaming and Stefan grinned like a fool himself. I wiped my tears away with the back of my hand and wordlessly handed him a handkerchief. Stefan chuckled.
“You always have to have old-fashioned things like cuff-links and real handkerchiefs, do you? He teased. “As if things would be so much worse if you carried paper tissues instead!”
“They would!” I insisted and grinned.
“Do you want to come to a little party with me?”

Stefan and I had taken a cab back to Sloan Square. The drive had taken almost an hour as we had got stuck in a traffic jam somewhere on Chelsea Embankment. The minutes had been ticking by and we hardly moved but it had not bothered any of us. Stefan and I had been content in the backseat, taking and laughing. It was fantastic. I was as nervous as on my first date and all of those little things were so terribly exciting. Like holding his hand, trying not to be seen by our driver or Stefan whispering softly in my ear. Outside darkness fell slowly and when we finally arrived at Royal Avenue the sky was a dark indigo and the few clouds were lined in gold and orange. After I had paid the driver, I gestured Stefan to come over to me. I took his hand and had to grin. What a picture we must have presented together! A thin, pale boy in much too big jeans and hooded pullover, who looked much younger than his actual age of 28 and the older gentleman in a fancy coat and top hat who looked like his granddad or someone paying for his company. But what did I bother that night? Stefan would never think along those lines and I was far too happy to seriously worry about that. I glanced around and saw a fair number of cars being parked on both sides of the road. That possibly meant that my guest had arrived by now. I glance at my watch. It was already 6.22 p.m. The windows upstairs were all aglow with light. I really felt like a boy on Christmas Eve; happy and excited. I kissed Stefan quickly before I opened the door and let us into the house. His cheeks were glowing now and the smile never left his face. I squeezed his hand before we entered my flat.
“Don’t worry about the dinner,” I told him in a whisper. “You can have just a bit of mash and parsnips. Nobody will say anything. I simply wanted to have you around.”
Stefan tensed for a split second and blushed but then he nodded.
“Okay, if nobody tries to stuff me like the poor goose.”
I laughed. “No stuffing, I promise! And there won’t be any goose. It’s not Christmas after all,” I answered, grinning.
We entered just when Kevin, a bottle of beer in one hand rushed into the living room.
“Sorry, mates,” he shouted and sat down on the sofa halfway on the armrest as it was already packed with people. Julian and Anne were sitting there as well as Monika.
“Traffic jam on the way.”
Daniel got up from a chair by the window and went over to the TV.
“Can everybody see the screen?” he asked.
Most people nodded and some adjusted their positions so that they could. Daniel waited a few seconds until the commotion had died down and then switched the TV on.
“Don’t ask me what this is all about,” he continued. “Neil left me a note, saying I should switch this on when everybody got here. I have no idea what’s on the tape. So let’s just see!”
He pressed the button and remained standing.
My little speech started on the screen. It looked even worse that I had guessed seeing it on the small monitor of the camera. My head was partly cut of at the top and at the side and as I had moved, the focus got blurry in between. At least my voice could be heard quite clearly.
I had stopped Stefan from entering the room; I wanted to watch for a moment without being seen. We both stood in the dark corridor, hiding behind the living room door and peeked though the gap.
“I guess you all starting watching this before I got back. My apologies for keeping you waiting but I have some important business to finish before I can join you.”
The recording began just as I had planned. Stefan elbowed me in the ribs when he heard my choice of words.
“Important business, mister? You’re calling me ‘important business?” he whispered in my ear with mock outrage.
“Well, maybe ‘important business’ is not the correct term,” I whispered back. “Maybe I should’ve called it ‘important private complications’!”
Stefan pretended to step on my foot by total coincidence but leaned closer anyway.
“First of all, let me thank you for coming here tonight,” the image of me on the TV screen went on.
“I know you showed more loyalty than I deserved. I wanted to thank you all for putting up with me, even though I’ve been pretty much of an ignorant prick lately.”
“Don’t understate the facts,” Kevin muttered loudly. “You’re not usually that modest!”
That remark got him a few laughs and even I had to smile. Sometimes there really was no way of arguing with Kevin.
“…really sorry,” the recorded speech went on. “Hopefully you all will put up with whatever I come up with next. I’d hate to lose my friends, you’re all more important to me than you know. So thanks again for being my friends. Forgive me for being so unbearable. I’ll try to make up for it in the future. That’s promised. God, I’m glad, I don’t have to say this facing you lot. I’d be terribly sentimental by now and that’ the last thing you want on a party, right? So I better stop rambling and leave you to Janet’s fab dinner. Love you all.”
You could see me getting up and then the screen went blurry when the recording had ended. Daniel switched the TV off and faced his friends. They had fallen silent for a moment.
“Quite a speech,” Janet finally said in her loud voice. “Looks like you’ve been right after all, Parker. There’s hope for the old bugger yet!”
Now everybody was laughing and I thought it was a good moment to give up hiding.
“Glad you had fun watching my little speech,” I said, stepping into the living room, dragging Stefan behind me.
Kevin almost fell of his armrest, laughing. “Bet you didn’t wanna call him a bugger to his face, did you, Janet?”
Janet just shrugged her shoulders and came over to hug me.
“Nice to see you stopped being grumpy for nothing,” she remarked. I couldn’t come up with an answer. I was suddenly surrounded by people. Anne and Daniel both hugged me, Julian was shaking my hand, Kevin slapped my back so hard I thought I would get bruises and Eric, Monika and Luzie shouted their greetings from the distance.
Predictably Kevin was the first one to find the little presents.
“Cool!” He exclaimed. “If we get presents every time, you can mess up couple of times more!”
It took my friends a while to sort out the presents but after a while everybody was busy unpacking his or her little box. I stood back and watched them. I was glad that they were all here, that Stefan was here and for once my prayers had been answered. I had been granted my last chance. I had been forgiven. I couldn’t stop smiling.
“Hey, but there’s no little box for you, Neil!” Kevin suddenly pointed out.
“Don’t worry about that,” I told him. “I’ve got my present right here with me!”
I went over to the table and kissed Stefan. The wrapping of his present fell to the floor as he flung his arms around me and kissed me back.
Kevin started to wolf-whistle and soon everybody was cheering and clapping hands.
The boy blushed fiercely but bowed theatrically when we had finished.
“One last thing before we can have dinner,” I said over the noise. “I forgot to wish you a ‘Merry Christmas’ last year so I do it now. Merry Christmas, everybody!”
Most people laughed but I heard Eric muttering something under his breath. It sounded like:
“God bless us all, every single one of us!”
- 5
- 6
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Dead as a doornail