Future Queens of England (36 page)

“About what?”

“About your bad language, you seem to say the word fuck in almost every sentence” Gareth replied.

“But this is the only way I know how to express myself,” Tony said defensively.

“Words like ‘fuck’ should be used as an exclamation mark, not a comma.”

Tony let this sink in, “Okay, I can see the logic there.  But I've been swearing like a trooper since I was eight.  How the fuck am I supposed to correct this overnight?” he said proving Gareth's point.

Gareth pondered this for a moment and tapped his finger against the side of his head, “Alright, I have an idea.  Why don't we just substitute the word ‘fuck’ for something else?”  He took a step back for effect and smiled.

Tony wrinkled his nose, “Like what?”

Gareth sighed, “Must I do everything here?  Look, I don't know, something similar.”  He scratched his head as he thought about it.  “What about saying ‘frith’ instead of ‘fuck’?”

“What the fuck does frith mean?” Tony muttered as he shook his head.

“It is just very similar and I imagine that your brain would accept frith as a valid substitute Tony,” Gareth explained.  “Frith seems somehow strong enough but is watered down enough to convey the emotion but without the offence.”

“Fuck me!  Not swearing seems a bit gay to me,” Tony grumbled.

Gareth let out a heavy sigh, “Frith me, not swearing seems a bit gay to me,” he corrected.  “Look, just give it a try, that's all I'm saying.  Now will someone please buy me a drink?” he added wearily.

“I'll buy you one,” Bruce said with some enthusiasm, “I'll get you one too Hugh.”

Later that night Uwe approached Tony who by now had sampled several glasses of wine and was well and truly in the party spirit.  He started up a conversation.  “Hey Tony, how's it going?”

“I'm alright Uwe, but steer clear of the Shiraz tonight, it's bloody awful.”

Uwe listened carefully and tried to gauge whether or not Tony was drunk enough, but not too drunk that he would show him up.  Unsure, he reached down into his pocket and took out a coin.  “Here, catch,” Uwe said as he threw the coin towards Tony.

Tony rapidly focused and snatched the coin out of the air, “What's this for?” he said as he examined the coin.

Uwe felt satisfied, “Do you know what time it is?” he said ignoring Tony's question.

“Ten o'clock?” Tony said looking at the new watch that Gareth had bought him from their last shopping excursion.

“No.  It's time for us to rock this party!”  As the words reached Tony's ear, the alcohol failed to stop him from cringing.

“Oh, try not to say things like that, Uwe,” Tony groaned as he shook his head.  “It really makes you sound European.”

“What are you trying to incinerate?” Uwe responded.

Tony rolled his eyes, “Insinuate,” he sighed.  “Oh for fuc...” he stopped himself, and remembered Gareth's words from earlier.  “Shall we just go and dance?”

“Yes,” Uwe said simply, tiring of his conversation with Tony.

“But no funny business, okay?” Tony growled. 

“Don't flatter yourself,” he replied indignantly.

Tony knocked back the last of his drink and they made their way to the dance floor.  Uwe found a space and took his position.  Tony, following suit, stood next to him and assumed the same stance.  Under the glare of the flashing coloured lights Uwe looked across at Tony and nodded.  Tony felt the adrenaline in his body start to pump as he waited for Uwe's sign.  The beat pounded as they both stood there motionless, until suddenly Uwe took a step forward and then stopped.  Tony waited for the next beat and then did the same.  Uwe swung his arms over his head, then became motionless once more, as Tony repeated the move.  Then suddenly they turned to face each other and simultaneously lifted their left arms followed by their right, their legs kicked forward and back as they mirrored each other perfectly.

A few of the revellers around them saw what was happening and stood back to make room for them.  Uwe slid to his right, still mirrored by Tony, their bodies undulating, their synchronicity almost perfect.

The other dancers stopped what they were doing and a large circle formed naturally around both Uwe and Tony as they delivered move after killer move.  They began to clap in time to the beat, and Tony and Uwe then took their dancing to the next stage.  The pair doubled the speed in which they moved as they danced around each other to the whoops and hollers from their spellbound audience.  They darted left and right, their bodies owning the dance floor.  Every single eye in the place was on them as they performed what they'd spent hours perfecting.

Finally as the song neared its conclusion Uwe turned and walked away from his dance partner.  Tony took a few steps back and took position, then quick as a flash Uwe span on his axis and ran towards Tony.  When he was just a few feet from Tony he leapt up and was lifted effortlessly high above Tony’s head, his arms fully extended.  Uwe kept his body fixed in a horizontal position, his feet and legs held completely together in perfect symmetry.  The crowd erupted into applause, and the odd whistle punctuated the clapping.  Tony and Uwe held their position soaking up the crowd's rapture and reverence.  Eventually Tony lowered Uwe to his feet.  Tony opened his mouth and began to speak. 

“Sorry Tony, but I must strike whilst the iron is hot.  A moment spent talking to you is a moment wasted,” and with that he turned and allowed the audience to surround him.

Tony felt too exhilarated to let Uwe bother him and began to make his way off the dance floor.  He took his first step and was confronted with a swarm of men as they hustled to speak to him.

“Hey, love your moves.  Let's dance!”  One squealed excitedly at Tony.

Tony waved him away quickly and tried to propel himself through the crowd.

“Hiya Butch, can I buy you a drink?” another voice said.

Tony shook his head.  Bodies pushed themselves up against him and patted him on the back.  He took several deep breaths and tried to keep calm. 

Suddenly several hands reached into the scrum and grabbed Tony's arm.  He felt himself pulled forward and a fear overtook him.  He lost his balance and fell to the floor.  Tony looked up at the swathing crowd above him.  Then, just as he tried to get his bearings, he felt two hands grip his left leg, and then another two grab his right leg.

“Oh fuck!  They're gonna bum me!” he screamed.  He began to kick wildly as he was dragged across the floor and out of the melee.  “Argghh!  Get the fuck off of me!  Stop trying to pull my trousers down.  There's no way you're bumming me,” he cried out kicking and screaming as he was awkwardly hauled out of the crowd on his back.

“Bum you?  Not for all the tea in China,” Gareth laughed as he looked down at Tony.  “Come on Hugh, put your back into it.”

Hugh grunted in acknowledgement and continued to pull Tony across the carpet to safety.

“Oh shit, it's you guys,” Tony said with a relief that he'd never experienced before, his heart beating frantically.

Gareth and Hugh dragged him a little further and then let go of his legs.

“Well, that's what you get for showing off, Tony,” Gareth said panting as he tried to catch his breath.

Tony clambered to his feet.

“The crowd loved you Tony,” Hugh said jealously.  “That's the sort of response I want to get when I get famous.”

Tony ignored him and lifted up the back of his shirt.  He ran his hands over the middle of his back, “I think you've given me carpet burns.”

“Wear them like a badge of honour,” Gareth chuckled.  “I don't just give carpet burns to anyone.”

Predictably Tony shuddered at the very suggestion.  “I need a drink to calm my nerves.”  He said as he dusted himself down and walked across to the bar.  He slumped himself against the bar and forced himself to relax.  He was calming down now.

After a couple of minutes stood silently composing himself, Tony was joined by Keenan at the bar.

“Hey that was pretty impressive Tony,” Keenan chirped in his usual manner as he leant against the bar.  “You must have put some hours practice in there.”

Tony nodded in acknowledgement, but didn't speak.

“But nothing could have prepared you for that response!” Keenan added.  “That really was some crazy shit.”

Tony exhaled forcefully, “You're telling me!”

“Why did you let Uwe talk you into that?”

“One reason,” Tony said surveying the room.  “Just look at all that pussy,” Tony said as he rubbed his hands together greedily.

“What?  Do you have some sort of filter fitted Tony?”  Keenan asked incredulously, “your brain seems to have some innate ability to filter out all the gay men here and just focus on the women.”

“Amazing, ain't it?” Tony said proudly as he switched back to his normal operating mode.  “Now I reckon I can have my pick of the bunch tonight after that performance,” he turned and waved at the bartender.  “A bottle of your cheapest champagne and eight glasses please.”  The barman nodded and duly brought Tony his order.  Tony slapped his money on the bar and took the tray of glasses.  “Now let's see Tony work his magic,” he pushed past Keenan and walked over to a group of girls waving the bottle of champagne aloft. 

“Hiya girlfriends!” said in a faux camp manner.  “Do you have room for a little one?”  He slid the tray effortlessly onto their table and made room for himself.

“Hey, you're that guy who was dancing earlier aren't you?” one of the girls said excitedly.

Tony smiled, closed his eyes and nodded slowly.

“You were amazing!” another squealed as she clapped her hands together.

“Thanks,” Tony mouthed silently as he started to unscrew the top on the champagne bottle.

“Was that guy that you were dancing with your boyfriend?” the girl to Tony's left asked.

Tony winced momentarily, but managed to hold his natural reaction back.  “Who him?” he said as nonchalantly as possible.  “He's a nobody.” He poised the champagne bottle over one of the glasses.  “Who wants some champers then?” he said winking at the attractive girl opposite him.

She smiled, “Oh yes please,” eagerly picking up and pushing a glass towards him.

“So, listen, girls,” Tony started in a sad voice, “I know we've only just met, but I feel like I've known you for years.”  He poured the bubbly into their glasses as he spoke, “I'm in a bit of a dilemma you see.  Well, quite obviously I am just so gay, but I keep having these strange dreams about women.”  He stopped talking, put the bottle down and took a sip of the champagne.  “Oh, where are my manners, you girls don't want to hear about old Tony's problems do you?”

The girls leant forward.

“No, you can talk to us.  We can probably help you, go on tell us about your problems,” the girl to his left urged him.

“Oh alright then, if you insist,” Tony leant closer to them.  “Anyway like I said, lately I keep having dreams about women.  You know, dirty dreams.”  He took another sip from his glass.

“Really?” the attractive girl opposite him said, “and have you even been with a woman?”

“Never!” Tony said, “but I keep having these recurring dreams and even during the day I can't shake them.”

“What are these dreams?” one of the girls said breathlessly.

“Well, right at the beginning of the dream I kiss a girl and do you know what?” he said carefully teasing them.

“No?  What?”

“It was electrifying, like nothing I have ever known before,” he said wistfully.  He stopped speaking and closed his eyes, he gently ran his tongue over his lips.

The good looking girl across from him leant over the table, “Haven’t you even kissed a woman before?”

Tony shook his head, “No,” he said sadly, “and I guess I never will.”

She paused for a moment before looking him in the eye, “You could kiss me if you like,” she said.  She bit her lip coyly, her friends' eyes bounced between her and Tony.  “You know, just so you can try it.”

Tony fixed his stare onto her, “Are you serious?  You'd do that for me?”

She slid her hand across the table and took Tony's.  She caressed it gently, “I wouldn't mind at all.”

Tony allowed himself the smallest of smiles, “I'm scared to try it, but somehow I must find the courage.”  He stood up and came around to her side of the table, she made room for him and he sat down.  “Close your eyes then,” he whispered.