Christmas At Leo's - Memoirs Of A Houseboy by Gillibran Brown

language slip. It’s not like he stands the envelope on his mantelpiece is it. It goes in the bin. You spelled his name right on the card when you signed it, that’s all that matters.”
    “Getting a name right is a question of manners. He’s touchy about such things.”
    “He’s touchy about everything. Never has the word gay been so misapplied. I’ve never seen him crack a smile. It must be a rib tickling riot living with him.”
    “Be quiet. Eat your dinner.”
    Dick chanced starting a general conversation, but Shane silenced him by shaking his head and touching a finger to his lips. It suited me. I wasn’t much in the mood for talking, or eating. I stirred the soup around my bowl, shoved salad about my plate, forcing down a few mouthfuls of each.
    The offer of a dessert was declined. Shane thanked me for dinner and ordered coffee to be served in the lounge for him and Dick before I made a start on clearing up. The inference was clear. I wasn’t wanted. It was coffee for two and work for the household serf. I reminded Dick that he had said he would wash up after dinner. Shane responded for him.
    “It’s your job to wash up, not Dick’s. Get on with it.”
    “Sorry, hun.” Dick gave me an apologetic look. “I’ll make up for it another time.
    Shane went to the sideboard and poured two generous glasses of brandy, taking them through to the lounge, commanding Dick to follow him. Lucky sods. I began to gather up the plates from the dining room table. I could have done with chilling out over a brandy, or preferably a beer.
    When I took the coffee through to the lounge they were seated on the couch. Shane had a hand on Dick’s thigh. It wasn’t a sexy touch, a precursor to physical amore. It was more a comfort touch, a fortifying action. Still, I experienced a familiar spark of jealousy. Shane saw Dick as his exclusive confidant, and it would never change. It was part of their dynamic. As well as love and respect, they shared a deep bond of trust and friendship. Shane would never be my friend. Dick wasn’t a friend either, an ally upon occasion, a lover and mentor, but not a friend. I was too far removed from them both in too many ways to serve as a true friend, not least by virtue of years. The thought disturbed me. I quelled it.
    I put the tray down on the coffee table, set out the cups and poured coffee. “Do you want anything else?” I set the pot down.
    “No, thank you.” Shane picked up his cup and took a sip of coffee, setting the cup back down. “Clean up and then get off to bed. Dick said you were complaining of tiredness earlier. You’ve been busy the last few days. A rest will do you good.”
    I managed to subdue a flash of annoyance by moistening my lips and adopting a reasonable tone. “Bit early for bed, Shane. I wasn’t planning on crowding you. I was going to go out for a walk, maybe pop into The Rose and say hello to a few people.”
    He repeated the instruction in a cold voice. “Clean up and get off to bed. I won’t tell you again. I’ll put you there.”
    I said a clipped “goodnight then” and walked out of the room, closing the door behind me. I stood outside, listening, hearing Shane.
    “One of these days, and I hope I live long enough to see it, that man is going to do as he’s told first time, without feeling the need to comment or argue.”
    Dick gave a gentle laugh. “You’d better count on being immortal then. It isn’t within his nature. His mouth must open and have its say. Do you want me to get you another brandy?”
    “I shouldn’t, but go on. It’s been a hell of a day, Dick. This bloody recession is never going to end. Just as you think things are on the up, they crash again. The long term forecast isn’t promising either.”
    I heard the clink of glasses and scooted off to the kitchen before Dick caught me eavesdropping on his way to get the brandy.
    Before tackling the dinner dishes, I decided to decorate my Christmas cake. I say mine, but it isn’t,