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

thing had been engineered. She was annoyed, but said nothing. To my dismay, she allowed herself to be bullied into agreeing to us going over there. I was furious. I told her I hated her and she could go if she liked, but I was staying at home. I ran upstairs to my room, slamming the door behind me and punching and kicking it several times into the bargain.
    Mum tearfully pleaded with me to go ‘to keep the peace.’ I suppose she didn’t want to fall out with Frank or her in-laws. I gave in. It was a horrible day as far as I was concerned. I couldn’t wait for it to be over. I felt mum had let me down. She’d chosen Frank and his family over me. It hurt. Teenagers have thin skins in general, but mine was practically transparent. I felt everything to a painful degree.
    When we got home that night Frank rounded on me, accusing me of spoiling Christmas for my mother and everyone else with my miserable face and surly attitude. For the first time ever, I bellowed at him to shut his big ugly gob and fuck off. It was the start of open warfare between us. I vowed never to spend another Christmas with him or his family. I never did.
    I spent the following Christmas with my friend Lee’s family. Mum was upset, but I was adamant about not going to Frank’s ancestral council castle. As things turned out it wasn’t the only upset I gave my mother that particular festive season. I came out soon after New Year. I was fifteen.
    It happened on a dull January morning before school. Frank was at work. My mother was getting ready for work. I was slumped over a bowl of Ready Brek feeling as if the weight of the world was compressing my spine. I was hurtling towards the end of my days as a schoolboy. Exam pressures were building. I was applying for sixth form college places. Frank and I were getting more and more aggressive with each other and I was struggling with my feelings about being gay. Something had to give. In the event it was my infamous gob. It opened and blurted. “Mam. I have to tell you something. I’m gay.”
    Her reaction wasn’t encouraging. I thought she was going to be sick. Her eyes widened and her skin paled. She stared at me without speaking. I repeated the statement. I hadn’t expected flowers and a goblet engraved with my name and a congratulatory message on coming out of the closet, but nor did I expect all hell to let loose. Clenching her fists, she screamed the word ‘NO’ over and over again at the top of her voice. I almost shit myself with fright.
    She followed the screams by shouting: “you’re only fifteen. You don’t know what you are! It’s a phase. You’ll grow out of it. I don’t want to hear you mention it again, to me or anyone else.” She then started sobbing, covering her face with her hands.
    Grabbing my coat and schoolbag, I fled the house. I didn’t go to school though. I went down to the allotments where Lee’s granddad had a plot. Lee and me often hung out there on evenings, especially in the winter when the shed provided some welcome shelter. Granddad Davy kept the key under a big cast iron boot scraper. We’d hole up and get tanked on cheap cider laced with vodka purloined from Lee’s dad’s booze cabinet.
    I sat in the shed and cried my eyes out. My world had imploded. In the back of my mind had been the idea my mother loved me enough to accept me no matter what. Her reaction seemed to prove otherwise. I felt like the antichrist. If she wouldn’t accept me then who would? I decided to kill myself. Yes, yes, I know what you’re thinking. What a fucking drama queen!
    There was weed killer in the shed. I knew it was poisonous and decided I’d top myself by drinking it. I didn’t get further than unscrewing the lid. I didn’t like the smell of it. I ditched the weed killer as a self-killer.
    I thought about slashing my wrists, but a tiny experimental nick with a rusty old pruning knife changed my mind. It hurt and besides, I hadn’t had my final tetanus booster shot. I