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Authors: Ryan Matthews

Future Queens of England (32 page)

BOOK: Future Queens of England
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“Oh, what now?” Tony said oblivious to the offence caused.

Hugh stood up and pushed himself in front of Tony.  “Right, calm down.  I am sure it was a slip of the tongue wasn't it Tony.”  He nudged Tony to prompt him to apologise.

Tony stared back at their angry faces, and thought about what he had said, “Look guys, I didn't mean nothing by it.”  This half hearted apology did nothing to soothe their anger.

“You should watch your mouth
arschloch
,” Uwe said as his anger simmered.

“Guys,” Hugh said attempting to calm the situation.  “Think about it.  What on earth did you expect?  Tony's got a life time of homophobia instilled in him.  Did you really expect that a few months at gay school would rid him of his prejudice?”

None of them spoke.

“Well did you?”  Hugh repeated.  “It seems to me like we need to take the moral high ground here and just ignore Tony's occasional outbursts,” he reasoned.  “Since there is no such thing as a miracle cure, we just need to give him time.”

Gareth nodded reluctantly, “He's right guys.  We do have to make certain allowances for Tony.”  He turned to face Tony, “You just need to be a bit more thoughtful Tony.  Think before you open your mouth.”  He reached over and put his hand on Tony's shoulder.  “I know they’re only words Tony, but after what we've been through together in the past few months it hurts to hear you say things like that.  You spoke without thinking or should I say you spoke without filtering.  If you think that we have some kind of disease that can be cured, then that worries me.”

Tony felt embarrassed.  “Look, it's easy to be prejudiced.  A few months ago I'd never had anything to do with gays before, things were a lot more simple then.  It's the easy option to hate puffs.  Being prejudiced towards a concept is easy, but when it changes from a concept to a person, it makes it a lot harder to maintain that view.  Then when that person becomes a friend it's actually a real dilemma.”  He held his hands out in front of him and moved them up and down like scales.  “I don't like homos, but I do like Gareth.”  He looked at his left hand, “Homos, bad,” he said lowering it.  “Gareth, good,” and raised his right hand.  “All of a sudden something that I have been brought up to believe, which I have never actually questioned, turns out to be wrong,” he explained.  “It's taken me a few months to get used to the idea but it's going to take a few more months to change my language.  It's just a reflex, that's all.”  He looked at them and waited silently for them to answer.

Nobody spoke for the longest time as they paused to consider Tony's explanation.  Finally Uwe spoke up, “I can relate to this a little Tony.  My general opinion of the English was that you are all beer drinking, football hooligans constantly spoiling for a fight.”

Hugh shifted uncomfortably, “Err Uwe, maybe that is not the best example.”

Uwe looked down his nose at Hugh and continued, “You represent this image perfectly for me Tony, but you've changed a little and occasionally you surprise me.  Therefore I need to change my prejudice about the English, and this will also take time.  Perhaps we can become more enlightened together.”  He put his hand out for Tony to shake.

Tony reached out and took it, they shook firmly.  They both fought their competitive urges to squeeze the other persons' hand as hard as possible.

Suddenly one of the girls spoke up, “See, this is why I love gay men.  There's so much drama, it's like living in a soap opera.”

“Oh I know,” her friend exclaimed in agreement.

“Hang on a minute,” Belinda said firmly.  “If he's not gay what's he doing here and what's your real motive for coming over here.”

“Well I am so glad you asked that question,” Gareth said warmly trying to regain their confidence.  He leant closer in to them as if to take them into his confidence.  “It's actually a long and interesting story.”  He waited for a moment before adding, “Actually it's very personal and it wouldn't be right to discuss such a deeply private matter would it?  We should leave you in peace shouldn't we?”  He dangled the bait and waited for a bite.

Instantly Stacy snapped.  “No don't go.  Go on tell us all the juicy gossip.”

Gareth grinned and took a deep breath, “Oh where do I begin?”

As he began to animatedly tell them Tony's background the mood lightened as they hung off his every word.

“Excuse me, but I need a piss,” Tony said, his voice exhausted, “where are the bogs?” 

Bruce made a vague gesture that they were on the opposite side of the room.  Tony didn't speak but instead turned and walked in the general direction of where he thought the toilets were.  He pushed past the sweaty bodies of the revellers and tried his best to appear inconspicuous.  Through the occasional gaps that opened up in the jostling crowd he saw the toilets.  He took a deep breath and attempted to put his concerns aside, he didn't want to go in there but his bladder was starting to hurt now.  If he didn't empty it, he wouldn't be able to concentrate whilst talking to the girls.  He paused outside the door as he searched for the courage to enter; at the school he'd always snuck off to the toilet in their room and successfully avoided using the student toilets.  He looked over his shoulder furtively to make sure that none of his roommates had spotted him procrastinating, he didn't want to give them any more ammunition tonight.  Finally he tipped his head back, took another deep breath and pushed open the door.

The toilets were, as he expected, teeming with people all waiting to relieve themselves.  He stood near the entrance with his back to the wall as he got his bearings.  He looked around at the dark red walls, he noticed a mural painted on them; he was pleased to have somewhere to focus his eyes.  He stared at the mural as his brain tried to work out the pattern, suddenly something clicked and the shapes took form.  He realised he was staring a little too hard on a mural of a Roman orgy with a distinct lack of women, Tony instantly averted his gaze.  His eyes darted back and forth looking for a less suggestive focal point, but he realised quickly that he was stuck between a rock and a hard place.  Giving up, he watched the men in front of him jostling each other at the urinals and instantly his breathing quickened.  He decided that the cubicles might be safer and side stepped over to the queue waiting to use them.  He kept telling himself to calm down and that he had nothing to worry about.  He joined the back of the queue and began the longest wait of his life.  It seemed like he was there for an eternity waiting for his opportunity to reach the safety of the private cubicles.  As he stood there in the slowly moving queue paranoia started to take hold, he felt as though everyone was watching him and he flinched whenever someone brushed past him. 

Finally, and not before time, a door opened, he waited just long enough for him to squeeze past the former occupant without actually touching him.  He slammed the door shut behind him and rested his back against it as he breathed a huge sigh of relief. 

What was happening to him? he thought; he used to be fearless, but these were exceptional circumstances, he told himself.  Tony turned and squinted in the dim light, looking for the lock on the cubicle door.  Putting his hand inside his shirt and using it as a barrier, he gently pushed the locking bolt into place.  The stall was remarkably clean all things considered, no graffiti and nothing really vandalised except for a couple of holes in the adjoining cubicle walls. 

He walked over to the toilet and kicked up the seat, he did a double take at the underside of the toilet lid.  On it he could see the Phantom drawn in black marker pen.  He bent forward as much as he dared and scrutinised the figure, it looked absolutely identical to the one on his sheet, on the wall of laundry room and also on the hockey sticks. 

It has to be the same person doing these, he thought, but what do they mean? 

At a loss for an adequate explanation he fumbled with his fly and began to urinate, the relief was amazing as his stretched bladder decreased in size.  He emptied himself directly into the water and took some pleasure in the sound of water hitting water.  It took his mind away from the pig's ear that he was making of the night out there. 

Could the night get any worse?  he thought to himself and closed his eyes for a moment.

He finished the job in hand and gave himself a little shake, a couple of droplets of urine flicked onto his hand.  He tutted and turned to get some toilet paper to wipe himself.  He reached down to the underside of the circular toilet paper dispenser for the end of the tissue, but he couldn't feel anything hanging down.  He looked carefully at the contraption and could see the toilet roll inside through the small plastic window.  He bent over and reached inside putting his hand into the drum.  He could feel the roll of paper with the ends of his fingers, and he gently rotated it as he felt for the end piece.  As he did this he felt something brush against the top of his head, instinctively he ran the palm of his free hand over the top of his head.  His knuckles pushed something warm away momentarily before it rested again on the top of his head.  Out of curiosity he tipped his head back to see what it was.  His eyes attempted to focus momentarily on a protrusion from the cubicle wall and then suddenly the realisation came over him.  Tony yelped and flung himself back away from the veined, throbbing protrusion as quickly as he could, the wall of the cubicle shook violently as his body banged against it.  As he did so his hand was wrenched out of the toilet paper dispenser and he felt a searing pain as the serrated metal edge grazed the back of his hand.  

“Arrghhh, you bastard,” Tony cursed loudly. 

His neighbour in the adjoining cubicle hearing this obviously realised something was wrong and retracted himself immediately.  Tony watched the huge erect cock disappear as he hyperventilated and tried to focus.  What should I do?  Fight or flight?  Go after him and teach him a lesson or just wait in here and hide until I'm sure that it is safe to leave?  After a moment or two he decided on the latter.

After an inordinate amount of time had passed Tony felt it was safe to leave.  Gingerly he opened the door, flinching as the next occupant moved forward expectantly to use the toilet.  Tony slipped out nervously, his back against the opened door.  Breathing heavily he made his way as quickly as possible out of the toilets.  As soon as he got out he walked to a safe distance and leant up against the wall and attempted to gather his thoughts.

“You were in there a while,” a voice said. 

Alarmed Tony looked to see where the voice was coming from.  Next to him was Belinda.

“What were you doing in there?” she said inquisitively.

Tony tried to answer but choked on his words as he tried to force them out as quickly as possible.  “Nothing!  Nothing!  I wasn't doing nothing in there,” he said finally finding his voice.

She smiled, “You weren't doing ‘nothing’ in there?”  She squinted her eyes in concentration, “That's a double negative isn't it?  So that means that you were doing something.”  She smirked as she waited for Tony to respond.

“Well, technically I was doing something.  I just went for a piss, but I wasn't doing anything...you know ...” he said sheepishly his sentence trailing off.

“No, I don't know,” Belinda said flatly, “please elaborate for me.”

“You know...I wasn't doing anything sexual,” Tony whispered trying to keep his voice down.

She laughed, “I know, I was just pulling your leg.”  Belinda touched Tony's arm playfully, “Come on, I'll let you buy me a drink.”  She walked towards the bar and Tony followed.

They ordered their drinks and stood awkwardly together at the bar silently.  Their drinks were duly served but still neither of them spoke. 

Finally Belinda couldn't take the oppressive silence any longer, “Seriously what were you thinking back there?” she said.

Tony's eyes were like saucers, “Where?  In the toilets?”

Belinda shook her head, “No back at the table.”

“Oh,” Tony said with relief.  “Look I just wanted to pull tonight that's all,” Tony explained.

“By pretending to be gay?” she replied in disbelief.

Tony scratched his head in embarrassment, “Well, yeah sort of.”

“Enlighten me.  I really don't follow your plan,” Belinda said keeping her eyes fixed on Tony as she gently drank from her glass.

Tony blushed, “I suppose I thought that we'd just have a chat, and a few drinks, then you'd let your guard down, and you know, one thing would lead to another.”

“So let me get this straight.  You decided that you'd pretend to be gay so that I'd talk to you, then you'd get me so drunk so that I'd forget you were gay, then you'd take advantage of me?” she said staring at Tony.

Tony looked behind her at the fire exit sign for a moment, but realised he'd look ridiculous making a run for it.  “Look, I hadn't thought it through that far.  I was just sort of winging it a little.”

BOOK: Future Queens of England
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