I realise now that I shouldn't call them carers. I'm 31 years old and should be able to care for myself. Maybe with Lenka and SC we look out for each other but Ciara was different. She was so much younger than me. I should have been looking out for her. I should have done more to help her when she was sad. I could have done more when she was looking for work or nights when she was down.
Truth is because she was so much younger than me I didn't give her the respect she deserved. And she deserves all the happiness in the world. She reminds me so much of me when I was in my early twenties. A vulnerability and a desire to care about people...something it has become apparent I have lost in recent years. Ciara is someone who makes me smile as soon as I see she is out. Not many people have that effect. I don't know a single person who doesn't like her. In fact I don't know a single person who doesn't love her.
When we first met she spent the evening telling my drunk friend to stop making so many racist comments. It was pretty damn funny. Although she looks about 15 you would never know that to talk to her. She added me on social media the day after we met and we were mates ever since. She's funny as fuck and has a genuine compassion that you rarely see these days. When I first started hanging out with her some of my older friends asked why I was socialising with someone 10 years younger than me. I could have stopped being her friend to save face but then I would have lost a good mate. Someone whose company I enjoyed so much.
And now I have lost a good friend. In fact I've lost 3. I won't go into details as I've spent my night going into them and I'm exhausted. I came home tonight and took a good long look in the mirror. I need to make changes to my life, I know that now. I need to sort my shit out and start being a better friend. For some it is too late but I need to work hard to keep the ones I still have. I need to treat women better I know. I can be such an asshole sometimes even if I mean well. I have a short temper and a mean streak but deep down I'm not a complete cunt. But that's something to write about another day.
Around Christmas time I had just got out of hospital with a problem with my appendix and my right testicle. I was barely walking. Mainly hobbling around on a walking stick. One night Ciara walked from town to my house just to bring me a kebab and feed me. I didn't even ask her to do it. She offered. You forget about stuff like that sometimes. You forget what your friends do for you and you take it for granted.
I used to think it was strange that people like Ciara and Lenka and Skylar became close to me so quickly. I've had the same group of boy mates for around 15 years so I found it difficult when new people wanted to be close. But now I understand that they were just kind and genuine souls. Maybe they saw something good in me...I don't know. I definitely saw something good in Ciara, Something pure and caring and beautiful.
She used to always ask me if I was ok and try and get me to open up to her. I always shut her off because she was so much younger than me. I didn't think a 21 year old could talk to me about stuff like that. But now I realise she was like a mother or big sister to me, despite her age. She was just trying to look out for me and easily spotted when I was upset or depressed.
This is a short article as I'm only going to be sharing it with her. I wanted to write something sooner but felt I needed to apologise to her face first. And now I have...so...
...I'm sorry mate, I'm sorry I made you cry. I'm sorry I lied. And I'm sorry our friendship is fucked. But it's like Skylar says...sorry is not enough if you keep having to say it.
That's all
x
Monday, 20 February 2017
Wednesday, 14 December 2011
This Is England 2017
It was half past 9 and Robin was going to be on time for work for the first time in months. It felt strange for him to not have a headache or to be dehydrated and for once he knew where his keys, wallet and phone were. He stretched and walked over to his advent ICalendar and waved his palm across it to open number 21. It was a picture of Santa using the new apple micro-pod. Robin looked down to the vending point to see what Xmas gift Apple had given him today. 2 valium. He popped one into his mouth and put the spare on his bedside for later. He headed downstairs when his doorbell rang and made him jump.
He hadn’t heard the doorbell ring in ages. Who knocked round people’s houses anymore when you could just Skype? Suddenly it clicked. It was his breakfast being dropped off. Normally of course he wouldn’t have woken up for another hour or so and would have to collect his food from the doorstep but today he got to answer the door and sign for his bacon sandwich and cup of tea. He settled down in his chair and read the front page of The Sun which had come with his breakfast. The headline was about the winner of the latest series of I’m A Celebrity. Apparently Lady GaGa had won it with Gary Barlow a close second. Robin chuckled to himself. He didn’t follow reality programs which was ironic as he worked for one of the biggest ones on telly. He would watch I’m a celeb if they actually had any celebrities on it rather than washed up pop stars and other reality contestants. Plus Ant and Dec were getting on a bit and were beginning to resemble Brucie in his final days god bless his soul. Robin never usually read the newspapers as he was very happy with his life and didn’t need to be cheered up. After finding out that bad news in the press had lead to the country becoming depressed the Conservative third of the Trebolition had issued a law stating that the papers could only report happy and fun news. They had actually found out that the suicide rate had decreased after this. It also meant that the Trebolition was able to stay in power for many more years than they were meant to as no-one could report on any opposing parties or on what day elections were supposed to be.
After finishing his tea Robin headed outside and began to walk towards the train station. It was a big day for him and he was glad that the strikes had prevented him from getting drunk last night. A clear head was exactly what the doctor had ordered for the Christmas special he was currently producing. He passed by the familiar shops. Argos
He arrived the first strip of bars before the train station and was met with the picket line. Hundreds of bar maids and landlords waving their placards around and chanting. ‘Decent wage for a decent pint!’ ‘Time at the bar for England Alka-Seltza street Britain
Robin got on his train and removed his headphones. Several other people did the same as the voiceover of the train began to speak. ‘Harry Potter and the reckless IPod, chapter 4.’ Robin had been getting really into JK Rowling’s new Harry Potter books. Especially after the Labour third of the Trebolition had introduce live audio book readings on the daily commute. It was an ingenious idea to get the country literate again even with the ad breaks every 5 minutes. Just then his phone went off and he got the usual looks of envy from the other passengers when they realised he could afford the ‘Underground’ package on his new Blackberry meaning he could receive calls on the tube. It was Megan from work who must have got in extraordinary early to be ringing him at this time. She wanted to email him a copy of his intinerary for the days show to make sure he was up to speed. Robin sighed. He hated how Megan thought she had to remind him how to do his job. He had been running the Christmas special for 3 years now and the ratings had got higher each time. He told Megan to send him the email and once she hung up text her telling her she was fired and could go join the other 10 million people on the job line.
Robin was one of the highest producers on the Titus Dawkins show. Titus had been a key instigator in the 2013 riots. He had personally stabbed 3 policemen, torched a Dixons and killed a young girl before being arrested. Whilst in prison Titus had released 3 albums, written two books and also video blogged on his FaceBook on a daily basis. After serving 10 months of his sentence he was released and was promptly signed up for his own TV show. The show had been a rating hit from the start; overtaking Jeremy Kyle after only 2 weeks. Robin had started off as a researcher on the TD show but had risen through the ranks to producer after having some of the cutting edge ideas which had kept TDS ahead of its rivals. It was Robin who had the idea of bringing on a celebrity judge each week to try and help the participants with advice. He had actually been the producer on the infamous show where former rapper and born again Christian Dappy from the internationally famous band N-Dubz had shot a woman in the shoulder live on air after she said she was carrying his child. Dappy was now the lead judge on the American version of the Apprentice and still tweeted Robin occasionally. Robin had also had the idea to make an Xmas special about the things people wanted to hear about rather than have Titus visit kids in hospital and then wheel Noel Edmonds out like every other show did. He looked at the itinerary of todays recording. Item One: My father raped me every Christmas for 5 years. Item Two: The 2015 Essex Christmas Massacre revisited. Item Three: Titus interviews Joseph Fritzel in prison to help promote his new book. Item Four: Titus has managed to reform Coldplay who perform live on the show dressed as elves. Robin shuddered. He hated it when bands reform just because they had run out of money or hat a greatest hits album to plug.
It was a good show thought Robin. Same format as every year but the public never seem to remember. He looked at his watch. 11 o’clock. He was still going to be incredibly early. He really liked the Liberal third of the Trebolitions idea of having the working day start at 12 so people could finish at 8, go straight to the pub and not have to get up too early the next day. He opened a piece of chocolate he had in his pocket and again received looks of envy from his fellow passengers. After research had discovered that chocolate was one of the main causes of cancer its price had risen through the roof and owning some was now akin to driving a Porsche or having a 10 inch cock. Robin decided he was going to have a swift drink before work. He knew a place that would be open regardless of the strikes. He updated his Facebook status, checked his email, wrote on his blog, Tweeted some colleagues and texted his mum before crossing the picket line to the cries of scab from a small group of Australian bar men before settling down to enjoy a quick pint before the hard day began. He smiled contently to himself. Life was good.
Tuesday, 24 May 2011
The Gospel According To Tommy T
The sun beat down hard on the parasol of the small cafe. The table was only meant to seat 4 people so over half the group were exposed to heat. To be honest it wasn't that hot but with the amount they had drunk and ate over the course of the day dehydration was iminent. It was made all the worse by the fact that many of them had to wear hats to hide their famous faces from the public meaning their heads were literally stewing. It had been a long day and the starting party of 20 (plus Tag-a-longs) had now been whittled down to scarcely 10 and only 50% of them still had all their bodily functions intact.
Jesus made a substantial effort to remove his sunglasses and take a look around the table trying to look as drunk as the rest of them. 'Thats the trouble with being immortal' he thought. 'Doesn't matter how much fun I have at the start of the night I'm still left hanging around with a bunch of paraletic losers at the end. And I always have to pay for the cab fare home'. It had actually been quite a successful birthday considering how poor the last few had been (poor at least compared to the great Amsterdam trip of 1732). He'd had the brilliant idea of going to London in the 21st century; A time when no-one even batted an eyelid to his sandals, long hair and the bleeding holes in his arms and legs. In fact he seemed to be more normal than half the people they'd met that day. They'd started off in Camden where most of the inhabitants seemed to have huge bits of metal hanging from their faces, had weirder hair than most of his group and were wearing entirely black even though he'd picked a reasonably hot day for it (the hottest of the whole decade infact). They'd started off in the closest pub to where they had materialised and there had been problems already.
The plan had been to get breakfast to line their stomachs for the days drinking ahead. However Jesus had forgotten that some of the party were vegetarians and so wouldn't eat the full English he had ordered 24 portions of. This didn't bother the likes of Elvis and Sinatra but it meant that after two pints of Guiness Ghandi was absolutely plastered and had to be taken back early my mother Teresa. (Jesus was secretly pleased about this. He hadn't wanted any girls here in the first place but had a sneaky feeling his dad was trying to set him up with Teresa when she 'accidentally' happened to be stopping off in London on the same day as them.)
After the Ghandi problem was taken care of the plan had been the usual; find a Karaoke bar and freak out the locals. Elvis had done his standard Jailhouse Rock before being outshone by an Elvis impersonator, Sinatra had disappeared by this point and didn't turn up till after lunch wacked out of his mind. It was left to Lennon, Hendrix and Cobain to have a go together. As usual Jesus took the drums (he secretly always made sure that no drummers came so he could do this. One terrible year Bing Cosby had admitted to knowing how to play and was still burning in hell to this very day). At the time Jesus remembered thinking how good things were going. He used to hate having his birthday on the same day as Christmas as it meant no pubs were open and no women were around. However he had soon realised by the 16th century that he could get round this by transporting himself and whoever he wished from existence to the time period of their choosing and celebrate it whenever. June always seemed to be a good pick. He'd even experimented trying it with living people and then wiping their memories after they got back. However after seeing what happened to Winehouse and Docherty after meeting 15 ghosts and Jesus Christ he'd decided against it.
The next few pubs in the afternoon was when it had started to get messy. As the only girls present were Marylin and Di (who Jesus was hoping to impress with some water walking later on) no-one had wanted him to do his traditional birthday trick of ordering 8 jugs of tapwater and promptly turning them into wine. However he soon found out that doing the same trick with jagerbombs was a much harder task and had only resulted in every liquid inside Winston Churchills body to turn into Jagermeister thus rendering him instantly shitfaced and unable to continue. They made their excuses and left. It was at this point that someone (Jesus thought it was St Peter as he always suggested the boring things) said they should take a trip to the London Eye. This turned out to be more problematic than they had thought as none of them had bought a train ticket so Jesus waltzed through on his own with his Oyster card expecting them all to be following and had ended up sitting alone on the Northern line. He went straight back after he realised his mistake only to find Abe Lincoln smashing an empty bottle of Newcastle Brown over the head of a man on a bike who turned out to be the current major of London. Jesus had hastily teleported them away but now Abe and several of the others were wanted men in the city they had no choice but to stick to the backstreets of London instead of going to their usual haunts.
This led to many awkward situation as they didn't know what each place they went into would be like (Well Jesus did, but you trying explaining that to 15 drunk celebrities who each think they're more famous and more important than the next). An accidental visit to a gay bar had led to Pope John Paul and Charlie Chaplin being sent back to heaven for fighting. Diana had stormed off after someone had dragged them into a strip joint (Jesus remembered thinking not for the first time how the girls in hell were much more fun) and a random visit to Madam Tussauds had led to Hendrix being sent home for trying to sexually assault the Marylin Monroe waxwork believing it to be the real thing.
And so it had come to this. Only half past 8, still daylight and the only person left in the group who Jesus actually liked was Heath Ledger (whose joker impression was starting to run a little bit thin now). He thought about just fucking off and spending the rest of the night at the Pyramids or on Neptune (they really knew how to party there). But he'd organised this. Somehow he always kept coming back to this small city on this self destructive planet. At that point Michael Jackson vomited over his sandal and the sick dripped between his toes. He sighed. Next year he was definitely going to Euro Disney.
The sun beat down hard on the parasol of the small cafe. The table was only meant to seat 4 people so over half the group were exposed to heat. To be honest it wasn't that hot but with the amount they had drunk and ate over the course of the day dehydration was iminent. It was made all the worse by the fact that many of them had to wear hats to hide their famous faces from the public meaning their heads were literally stewing. It had been a long day and the starting party of 20 (plus Tag-a-longs) had now been whittled down to scarcely 10 and only 50% of them still had all their bodily functions intact.
Jesus made a substantial effort to removce his sunglasses and take a look around the table trying to look as drunk as the rest of them. 'Thats the trouble with being immorta'l he thought. 'Doesn't matter how much fun I have at the start of the night I'm still left hanging around with a bunch of paraletic losers at the end. And I always have to pay for the cab fare home'. It had actually been quite a successful birthday considering how poor the last few had been (poor at least compared to the great Amsterdam trip of 1732). He'd had the brilliant idea of going to London in the 21st century; A time when no-one even batted an eyelid to his sandals, long hair and the bleeding holes in his arms and legs. In fact he seemed to be more normal than half the people they'd met that day. They'd started off in Camden where most of the inhabitants seemed to have huge bits of metal hanging from their faces, had weirder hair than most of his group and be wearing entirely black even though he'd picked a reasonably hot day for it(the hottest of the whole decade infact). They'd started off in the closest pub to where they had materialised and there had been problems already.
The plan had been to get breakfast to line their stomachs for the days drinking ahead. However Jesus had forgotten that some of the party were vegetarians and so wouldn't eat the full English he had ordered 24 portions of. This didn't bother the likes of Elvis and Sinatra but it meant that after two pints of guiness Ghandi was absolutely plastered and had to be taken back early my mother Teresa. (Jesus was secretly pleased about this. He hadn't wanted any girls here in the first place but had a sneaky feeling his dad was trying to set him up with Teresa when she 'accidentally' happened to be stopping off in London on the same day as them.
After the Ghandi problem was taken care of the plan had been the usual find a Karaoke bar and freak out the locals. Elvis had done his usual Jailhouse Rock before being outshone by an Elvis impersonator, Sinatra had disappeared by this point and didn't turn up till after lunch wacked out of his mind. It was left to Lennon, Hendrix and Cobain to have a go together. As usual Jesus took the drums (he secretly always made sure that no drummers came so he could do this. One terrible year Bing Cosby had admitted to knowing how to play and was still burning in hell to this very day). At the time Jesus remembered things how good things were going. He used to hate having his birthday on the same day as Christmas as it meant no pubs were open and no women were around. However he had soon realised by the 16th century that he could get round this by transporting himself and whoever he wished from existence to the time period of their choosing and celebrate it whenever. June always seemed to be a good pick. He'd even experimented trying it with living people and then wiping their memories after they got back. However after seeing what happened to Winehouse and Docherty after meeting 15 ghosts and Jesus Christ he'd decided against it.
The next few pubs in the afternoon was when it had started to get messy. As the only girls present were Marylin and Di (who Jesus was hoping to impress with some water walking later on) no-one had wanted him to do his traditional birthday trick of ordering 8 jugs of tapwater and promptly turning them into wine. However he soon found out that doing the same trick with jagerbombs was a much harder task and had only resulted in every liquid inside Winston Churchills body to turn into Jagermeister thus rendering him instantly shitfaced and unable to continue. They made their excuses and left. It was at this point that someone (Jesus thought it was St Peter as he always suggested the boring things) said they should take a trip to the London Eye. This turned out to be more problematic than they had thought as none of them had bought a train ticket so Jesus waltzed through on his own with his Oyster card expecting them all to be following and had ended up sitting alone on the Northern line. He went straight back after he realised his mistake only to find Abe Lincoln having a fight with a man on a bike who turned out to be the current major of London. Jesus had hastily teleported them away but now Abe and several of the others were wanted men in the city they had no choice but to stick to the backstreets of London instead of going to their usual haunts.
This led to many awkward situation as they didn't know what each place they went into would be like (Well Jesus did, but you trying explaining that to 15 drunk celebrity's who each think they're more famous and more important than each other). An accidental visit to a gay bar had led to Pope John Paul and Charlie Chaplin being sent back to heaven for fighting. Diana had stormed off after someone had dragged them into a strip joint (Jesus remembered thinking not for the first time how the girls in hell were much more fun) and a random visit to Madam Tussauds had led to Hendrix being sent home for trying to sexually assault the Marylin Monroe waxwork believing it to be the real thing.
And so it had come to this. Only half past 8, still daylight and the only person left in the group who Jesus actually liked was Heath Ledger (whose Joker impression was starting to run a little bit thin now). He thought about just fucking off and spending the rest of the night at the Pyramids or on Neptune (they really knew how to party there). But he'd organised this. Somehow he always kept coming back to this small city on this self destructive planet. At that point Michael Jackson vomited over his sandal and the sick dripped between his toes. He sighed. Next year he was definitely going to Euro Disney.
Wednesday, 6 April 2011
A Present From Heaven
Matt had been up for over 24 hours with excitement but still felt strangely fresh. His eyes were not creeping to a close, he hadn’t yawned since he woke up yesterday afternoon, he was pretty sure he still looked and smelt pretty good seeing as how he had been brushing his teeth on the hour and showering every two. He felt like a child on Christmas morning who had sneaked a peek at his presents a few weeks ago and knew exactly what exciting gifts he would shortly be receiving. But to feel them in his hand and play with them, that was what Matt craved. It was all very well knowing your fantasy was on its way but until you could sense it in your hands it still wasn’t quite, well, real.
Matt nervously twitched. From one buttock in his chair to the next but he still couldn’t get comfortable. He tried sitting on his hands, cracking his knuckles, having a cigarette (he didn’t smoke but today he’d thought, ‘what’s the worst that can happen. He’d even bought a lighter and an ashtray on his daily shop with Margo this morning anticipating his nerves.) He checked the time, 5 minutes to go. Not long now. Not long for something he’d been waiting patiently twenty two years for. He felt confident. He felt free. Margo had given her approval for every bit of item he had chosen to wear, including aftershave, deodorant and the way he had done his hair which she normally complained about. He had bought scented condoms but also lit incense in case the condoms were some of those cheap ones where ‘scented’ could mean anything. He checked the time again, took a deep breath, put out his cigarette and sat back in his chair trying to relax for the last 5 or so minutes of his virginity.
The door bell rang. Matt jumped up in his seat and spilt the contents of the ashtray all down himself. Clumsily, whilst still trying to wipe the ash off his brand new shirt he clambered towards the door. Pausing just before he opened it he took a deep breath, smoothed down his hair and pulled on the latch.
He smelt her perfume before the door was even fully open and almost fell over with his lust and youthful excitement.
‘Are you alone?’ a playful voice said through the intoxicating smog of that smell.
‘Margo’s upstairs but she’s asleep’
‘That’ll have to do then won’t it.’
Straight away he felt her hands on the belt of his jeans. Not undoing them, just gripping tightly as she pushed him into the house, kicking the door closed behind her, through the hall way and back into the living room where he nearly tripped over the upturned ashtray on the floor.
‘My room’s just upstai..’ he began
‘No. Here’
She pushed him down onto the chair and suddenly she was gone. Matt didn’t know where at first; his mind so intoxicated by that perfume and the throbbing he felt whenever he smelt it.
All of a sudden he could feel her breath on the nape of his neck. She was behind him now and he could only think about being with her, naked, right here, right now. She spun the chair round and lowered herself on top of him. Slowly, she began to rock back and forth, still fully clothed; her body moving back and forth in time with his. She began to kiss him passionately. So passionately that it couldn’t just stay in one place for more than a few seconds as she moved her lips all over his trembling face and neck. As her hands ran over the back of his head and she writhed in what seemed like slow motion he began to feel his heart trying to burst through his chest with desire. Her silky, perfumed hair was in his face but he would not have been able to see anyway. He could sense that she had stripped off now and he finally summoned up the courage to return her touch. He hoped she didn’t have goose pimples like he did and his clammy palms were not too cold to make her recoil from the tryst they were now locked in. As though his grubby, clumsy hands were not good enough for her voluptuous skin he caressed her like she was a glass doll and might shatter at anytime. To him she was the last thing of beauty he might ever touch and he made full use of these precious moments exploring every part of her body from the tips of her fingers to the back of her thighs and legs. He didn’t hear the zip go but he knew instantly when he was inside her. It was pointless him trying to do anything as she leant back and took control while his eager hands attempted to play her body like a schoolboy being given a priceless harp with no lessons and only one chance to make it sing. She began to moan and Matt became fully aware he had not made a sound since she had entered the apartment and since he had entered her body. He made full use of his vocabulary now though as he grunted and moaned in blind ecstasy whilst she thrust back and forth, deeper onto him, building the pair of them to the perfect climax. It seemed like an eternity and a split second at the same time.
A gasp from her and an almighty moan from him and it was over.
He sensed her release him, both their bodies quivering and she began to climb off. She gave him a peck on the lips and he heard a cheeky, girlish laugh. The smile had not left his face since she arrived.
‘Let’s go to bed’
He heard some banging and the rustling of clothes being put on. Then the soft sound of her feet going up the stairs and her hands feeling the banister. Margo, now fully awake came bounding down yelping. She came closer to him, knowing he was happy and he instinctively put his hand down for her to lick. She gave her usual bark of approval but jumped up onto his lap to lick his face. Clearly she liked the perfume as well.
Matt gave a contented sigh. His knees were still trembling and his mind and body were both telling him the same thing. This had been worth the wait. He reached over to pick up his cane and slowly got to his feet aware how unstable his legs were and how rushing every emotion and hormone in his body was. With Margo’s help he made his way to the bedroom stopping for a second before he went in to make sure she was going to her room and just to take in the moment. Most people would say that he had just become a man. But then, considering the life he’d had to live since birth and indeed the life she had led as well he knew they had become adults a long time ago.
As he got into bed and faced her he took off his glasses knowing she had done the same and they lay there for a minute looking at each other. They would never see each other in the conventional way but in that moment they saw more than they suspected most did in a lifetime.
Wednesday, 23 March 2011
A Day Like Any Other
The alarm could have been going off for an hour for all she knew, it certainly felt like it as the sound bore deep into her head, waking her up and making her whole body ache for it to end. Lizzie lifted her arm and smashed it half asleep still onto the table next to hers in the hope it would land perfectly on the alarm clock and silence it. It did not and instead the whole table crashed to the floor spilling wine and cigarette ends over the lavish red carpet and making absolutely no difference to the noise of the alarm. With a groan Lizzie opened her eyes and tried to move into an upright position succeeding only in falling off her chair so she now sat amidst the fag butts and vino on the floor. Lizzie thought she was still pretty sprightly at the tender age of 85 but even she knew help would be needed for her to stand up when she was hanging this bad. Still, no need to rush. It was Christmas day after all.
About 10 minutes later Gary Gary Gary Gary London Gary
She mooched into her bedroom and found that Phil wasn’t there. He’d probably gone to walk the dogs seeing as he was invincible to hangovers the lucky blighter. Lizzie glanced at the time and realised she was incredibly late. She called for Elaine to come and help her get ready before spying the pile of presents on the bed and promptly sat down and began to rummage through them. ‘Sod them’ she thought. They’d wait for her, they always did. She could be up to an hour late and blame it on old age rather than say the truth that she was having a crafty fag by the stables or playing on Wii fit with one of her Granddaughters.
She tossed the presents from her husband and children to one side. They always got her the most boring gifts imaginable. A new pair of gloves here, a diamond necklace there. How dull. It was the presents from her Grandchildren she enjoyed the most. They were a glimpse into a more fun life and often were the only things she’d bother to use more than once. She found the one from Bea first. Definitely a CD. Kind of annoying when only a year earlier she had bought her an IPod Nano but seeing as no-one in the house had shown her how to use ITunes no matter how much she asked it was still in its box. She unwrapped the CD with tentative fingers and nearly dropped it in excitement. She’d read all about this band in the NME (she sometimes made Gary
This girl she pressed all the right switches
She’s a proper ho, not one of those bitches
Brilliant she thought.
Her other presents were pretty standard. Same old sentimental tat from Eddie. Horse racing tickets from Andy. Will and Henry (or Harry as everyone seemed to be calling him) had gone halves on a Blackadder boxset. Lizzie still didn’t understand why they had to go halves on presents for everyone. It was not as if they were 8 and saving up their pocket money. But it’s the thought that counts. Kate had got her a subscription to ‘More’ magazine. Lizzie had no idea what this was but she thought Kate was a pretty cool girl and it was a nice gesture from someone who wasn’t even a blood relative.
Just then Phil and Charlie burst in. ‘Lizzie why aren’t you dressed?’ Phil asked hurriedly. ‘Mum, you is gonna make us proper late if you don’t hurry yourself!’ Everybody winced. Charlie had been trying to bond with his sons again and the results were always embarrassing. Surely enough Will and ‘H’ trudged in behind them. Lizzie had always felt bad for them at Xmas time. No-one else’s family would have made them go through something this tedious and embarrassing every December 25th, especially from such a young age. Indeed she hated it herself. She’d much rather be drinking Sherry and waiting for the ‘Royale Family’ Christmas special to come on the box later. But tradition is tradition.
She’d hardly noticed but Elaine had somehow managed to fully dress her so she went forward to kiss her Grandsons. Will gave her a peck on the cheek but H turned away in embarrassment. She wasn’t surprised. She’d walked in to find him pleasuring himself in one of the private bathrooms the other week and he hadn’t looked her in the eye since. What was worse is that she hadn’t told anyone else in the family (except Phil) so they all thought he was just being plain rude. Phil instantly changed the subject and stopped H getting a rollicking from his Dad. ‘Right are we all ready to go?’ he declared. ‘Course we are lets do this shit!’ Charlie exclaimed as his offspring went bright red. ‘Remember everyone’ said Phil. ‘Posh voices only.’ They began to file out.
Lizzie hooked her foot into her crown and expertly flicked it into the air before catching it on her head. She looked up beaming with her achievement before scowling that they’d all gone. She’d been practising that all year. ‘Don’t know where you all think you’re going she thought. You can’t start anything with out me. She had a sneaky sip from the hip flask tucked into her stockings and gave herself one last look in the full length mirror to psyche herself up. ‘Who are you?’ She said quietly to herself ‘I’m the queen.’ Getting louder now. ‘I’m the Goddam Queen!’ Louder still. ‘I’m the Goddam Queen of fucking England
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