Published: 12 Feb 2024

Two happy years had passed and Alun had truly become partnered with Taylor. There had been offers of acting roles to both but they were more than content with their country lifestyle and with Jane coming to live with them life was free and easy. Alun even became a lover of horses, with the two spending many sunny days riding the roads and lanes about the property, sometimes even into Rochester for shopping, giving the locals an air of nostalgia. There was one skill Alun never accomplished and that was trotting, he still found difficulty coordinating his arse and the saddle but declared in time he would and time was a commodity they had in spades.

The house, or more to point colonial mansion had been purchased without viewing, as is the impulsive way with youth, being much too large for three while in need of extensive care and maintenance. It mattered not, during the first year a great deal of time and money had been spent bringing the old girl back to her past elegance, now she stood proudly atop of her hill for all to see while passing by. It was whispered the boys had spent more than a million on renovations, although when calculated it had been closer to one and a half million but it mattered not as there was plenty remaining in the bank account, while Alun, with Taylor’s help had become classic when it came to wise investments, with their fortune growing even to surpass the original lotto prize.

Some changes had occurred during those two years, one being Jane came to live with the boys, another Peter’s business was doing fine and making profit. Peter had after a single year offered Alun’s original investment back with interest but Alun refused to accept it. As for Alun’s parents, his mother had found a new partner although refusing his offer of marriage, declaring once in a lifetime was more than enough. As for David, his affair soured when his new woman fell pregnant to which he paid her to be gone. Now David lived alone and bitter in his penthouse apartment at the top end of Collins Street. That only left Dianne to contend with, she had her baby, another boy with a fine set of lungs and demanding temperament. Dianne had shacked up with a new fellow, who soon tired of her and like Michael, went to work the iron ore mines in West Australia.

That only left Jillian, her play went for two seasons in London but failed the American market and after trying for a time she found living in London expensive, especially as there wasn’t any further work in the offering. Jillian’s final breakup with Alun came the week Alun declared his love for Taylor, in the form of a Dear John email. Recently Alun heard from a mutual friend she was back living in Melbourne, Alun suggested to let her know where he was living but soon discovered Jillian had not been in contact with any of her previous friends. Alun put the word about he would love to see her once again or at least receive a telephone call but nothing was forthcoming.

It was coming up to Christmas with Alun spending most of his time helping the neighbours in fuel reduction, anticipating the approaching bushfire season with lasting memories of his Christmas spent on Lorne’s beach while the country burned. It had been a long day and he returned home sweaty, his face blackened from soot, his clothing permeated with smoke. Taylor had been in town doing the weekly shopping also buying Christmas presents. On his way from the road he had collected the mail, meeting Alun in the hall.

“Did you pick up the Christmas hams I ordered?” Alun asks.

“They won’t be ready until Friday, how was the fuel reduction?”

“There is still more to do but getting there.”

“I’ll give you a hand tomorrow.”

Alun spies the daily mail on top of the box Taylor is carrying, “I notice we’ve got some Christmas cards.”

“You have one; two for Jane, the rest are bills and investment information.” Taylor places the box down and passes the card to Alun, “I don’t recognize the hand,” Taylor admits.

“I do,” Alun says. There is a measure of excitement in his tone; “It is Jillian’s hand. Alun quickly opens the envelope and on the card there is a short note. He reads aloud. Wishing you and Taylor a Merry Christmas and don’t concern for me – love Jillian.

“Is that all she says?” Taylor asks.

“It is and there isn’t any return address.”

“It sounds somewhat cryptic.”

“True, most definitely not the Jillian I used to know.”

“Why not call Vivien?”

“I did when I first heard Jillian was back but she hadn’t heard from her either and up to then she hadn’t even been home to her parents.”

“You could contact her parents yourself.”

“I think Jillian wishes to remain private. Seeing she knows where we are, I should think she will contact further in her own time.”

Alun may have appeared assured of his reply but there was something definitely wrong. The Jillian he once knew had been more direct with her meaning.

“You will be down in Melbourne visiting your mum next week, why not ask about, possibly Wayne may know more.”

“I could do that but not Wayne.”

“Why not visit Wayne?”

“I’ve never felt comfortable in Wayne’s company; he has wandering eyes and makes me feel as if I’m naked, also his innuendoes make me edgy. No best to leave off, if Jillian wishes to contact further she will.”

Alun places Jillian’s card aside as Jane comes from the kitchen, “did you go to the chemist Tay?”

“Yes I got your prescription.”

“I’m not feeling all that well, Alun will you finish tonight’s meal? I’ve put the potatoes on low and don’t forget you have invited the Warrens’ for dinner.”

“No, I haven’t forgotten. You rest and as soon as I’ve had a quick shower I’ll attend to it.”

“Thank you Alun; it’s the heat that’s all. How I would love to experience an English winter with drinks in front of a nice open fire and the Christmas trimmings we put up were suited to our weather.”

“I was only nine when we left England but I remember my last Christmas in London and it was wet and freezing, I don’t think back then we could afford a fire and the heating was always failing,” Alun negatively recalls.

“It must have been difficult for your mother.”

“Dad was away working and it was mum who submitted the application for us to become ten-pound-Poms.”

“That surprises me knowing how you say your father likes to be in control.”

“He had his moments Jane.”

As Alun stated on many an occasion, there is nothing better than a strong hot shower, even on such a warm day. He had only been under the water for a moment when the door opened and Taylor entered.

“Do you mind if I join you?” Taylor asks but strips without invitation. He steps in behind Alun, “pass me the soap and I’ll do your back.” Alun passes the soap and Taylor lathers Alun’s back, his hand descends towards Alun’s shapely buttocks. Fingers run between. “You like that?”

“I do but I should be looking after the stove, we will have to leave off to later.”

“I was remembering,” Taylor says.”

“And what would that be?”

“Our first time we showered together and how nervous you were.”

“Tay you don’t know how many times I wanted to be with you but my fear was stronger than any urge.”

“And now?”

“Now I don’t care. Wash the soap off, I better go look in on the cooking.”

It is past ten in the evening with Jane watching television. Alun is busy in the office with the accounts when Taylor enters, he quietly comes from behind and wraps his arms around Alun’s neck then kisses the top of his head. “Don’t forget your promise,” he says.

“What promise would that be?”

“The one when we were showering this afternoon.”

“I haven’t forgotten, I won’t be long, I was having a look at mum’s investments.”

After David had cut Silvia off with nothing but the house, Alun had taking part of his winnings and set his mother up with a superannuation scheme and as Sylvia was hopeless with figures he managed it for her.

“Christmas,” Taylor simply says.

“Why did you mention Christmas?”

“I was recalling the Christmas at Lorne and the fire.”

“Who in your family have you invited this year?” Alun asks.

“I have left it to mum, she said Aunt Lorraine and her family and Uncle Jim but with Jim the invitation would need to be extended to his new woman.”

“What about Jim’s kids?”

“They no longer talk to him. What about you and your lot?”

“Only Peter is interested so I’m to having an early Christmas with mum, possibly Dianne will be there.”

“What about David?”

“Yes what about David. No one has heard from him since he got his secretary pregnant and all but forced her to abort it. As far as I know he is on his own these days.”

“I don’t like it when family isn’t speaking.”

“I don’t think I had the choice.”

“I am remembering a song by Mike and the Mechanics.”

“I don’t recall the group.”

“It was called In the Living Years and the lyrics suggest it is too late when they die, and it should have been said in the living years.”

“Nice words but even if I spoke he would not be listening, especially since he discovered about us.”

“Do you have regrets Alun?”

“Never and don’t you ever even for a moment think that.” Alun closes down his laptop, “right let’s instigate that earlier promise.”

The Sunday before Christmas and Alun is arriving at his old home for the early family Christmas dinner. There were two cars parked outside the house, one he recognized as belonging to his sister Dianne, the other was unknown to him. Alun had heard Peter recently bought a new vehicle and he became bolstered, believing he would have his brother as backing when the accusations started.

Alun parks on the road as David’s words come to mind referring to the parking of Peter’s heap of shit in the drive, to leak sump oil over his paving. As Alun reaches the front door, inside seems too quiet to be the Hughes’ residence, as Dianne’s two and the toddler usually ran uncontrolled. Alun takes a deep breath, holds it and releases with a quiet word, “well here goes nothing,” he softly reports while juggling an arm filled with Christmas presents.

Dianne meets Alun at the door.

“Where are the kids?” he asks.

“Margaret, Mick’s sister has them for the day. Where is Taylor?”

“He couldn’t come, Jane isn’t feeling well. How is mum’s mood?”

“She’s a little teary today, as Christmas always brings out the weeping.”

Alun enters and dumps his collection of packages onto the living room table, “Is that Peter’s new car in the drive?”

“No Peter isn’t coming and said he will give you a call during the week. The car belongs to the Frasers next door. With three teenage boys they don’t have the room for parking.”

Alun can hear Sylvia busy in the kitchen, “I better say hello to mum,”

“Is that you Alun,” Sylvia calls as he approaches.

“Yes mum,”

“Is Taylor with you?”

“No he couldn’t come,” Alun approaches and gives his mother a cuddle from behind and as usual she shrugs him away.

“Never mind, have you spoken to your father?” Sylvia asks.

“I haven’t seen or spoken to dad for almost two years.”

“Peter can’t come today.”

“Dianne said so. How have you been?”

Sylvia avoids answering, “we didn’t do a tree this year.”

“Tay has done one at home. You should see how big and beautiful it is and it took him two days to decorate it.”

“Your father didn’t believe in Christmas trees, he said they are fire hazards and drop needles all over the floor,” she gives a huff of irony, “your father didn’t like anything to do with spending money. ”

“You won that argument, even if it was made of plastic and was only left up for Christmas day.”

“I remember the poor excuse for a tree,” Dianne says, “I also remember there were bugger all presents either.”

“I gave you a bottle of cheap perfume I got from the chemist,” Alun recollects.

“Yes and mum used it to freshen up the toilet and I do remember the bubble bath you gave Jillian. You know she regifted it to me.”

“So she said and I won’t mention the y-front underwear you gave me.”

Dianne then replies with a rare laugh, “I guess that’s the spirit of Christmas past.”

Dinner was a quiet affair with Sylvia dodging anything to do with Taylor or Alun’s obvious change of sexual preference, while most of the conversation being from Dianne about the kids and their wayward antics.

Eventually Sylvia finds voice, “Have you heard from Jillian since she returned.”

“No nothing.”

“Your father had hopes you would have married Jillian.”

“Obviously dad’s hopes were never Jillian’s or mine. We got a Christmas card from Jillian last week but it lacked information and there wasn’t any return address.”

“You should speak with Peter,” Dianne suggests.

“Why speak with Peter, Dianne,”

“He has been in contact with Jillian, possibly he knows her address.”

“Possibly but if Jillian wanted contact, she would have added her address to the card.”

“Are you staying overnight?” Sylvia asks.

“No I’ll drive home later this afternoon I have arranged with some of the neighbours to help clear a log blockage in the creek.”

“There was a time Alun when we couldn’t even get you to mow the lawn,” Sylvia recollects.

“No wonder with that old push mower, dad was too stingy to buy a motor mower.”

“Your father said it gave you strength.”

“More like blisters.”

Alun may have responded negatively towards Dianne’s suggestion to contact Peter about Jillian, although once at home that evening and the opportunity was right he did contact Peter but as Peter’s mobile was switched off, Alun left a text for his brother to call back. It wasn’t until dinner the following night before Peter made the return call and his first words were apology for not being at their mothers for the early Christmas reunion.

“You were missed, are you still coming up for Christmas?”

“Sorry Alun this is our busiest time of the year, if it suits you we close down for the New Year and I’ll come up then.”

“I will look forward to you doing so, how is the business going?”

“Because of your generosity it is booming, so much for dad’s prediction. How is Tay?”

“Fine, don’t tell him but he is the best thing ever in my life. I don’t know what I would do without him.” Alun then hesitates.

“What is the matter Alun; by your tone you appear concerned about something?”

“Not concerned; Dianne tells me, you have been in contact with Jillian since she returned.”

“I have.”

“We received a Christmas card with a very brief message but no return address.”

“Yes, I picked her up at the airport.”

“Why didn’t she contact me?”

“At that time she hadn’t even told her parents of her return.” Peter admits.

“I am confused.”

“Listen Alun, I can’t say more as I’m on a promise. All I can say is Jillian will contact you further when the time is right.”

“Now I’m even more confused.”

“Leave it Alun. She will contact when she is ready. As I said I can say no more.”

“That leaves me with all kinds of conclusions.”

“Let’s change the subject okay?”

Alun’s conversation with Peter only made him more confused than ever. Why would Jillian contact Peter and not him, why is she being so secretive about where she is living and what of the cryptic Christmas card? Taylor agreed with Peter to leave well enough alone, as when and if Jillian wished to contact him she would.

Christmas morning is busy with Taylor and Jane doing the cooking with hams prepared from their own pigs, turkey from a generous neighbour and vegetables from Jane’s kitchen garden. Alun took on the job of decorating the Christmas table and assuring the neighbours were aware of the meal time. Taylor’s Aunt Lorraine with her husband Robert and three kids arrived early in the morning and his Uncle Jim the previous night without his new woman.

With Christmas dinner almost ready and everyone enjoying drinks in the main reception room with joyful conversation about, Alun excuses himself and makes a call to his mother. As Sylvia answered Alun could hear the baby crying and the boys fighting in the background, then he heard Dianne, “shut the fuck up you two or there will be no Christmas dinner.”

“OH!” Alun says.

“Yes oh, I never taught you boys to swear like that. I don’t know where Dianne gets her language.”

“From Michael I should think.”

“Michael came down for Christmas with presents for the boys but didn’t stay long.”

“How are you holding up with Dianne and the boys living there?”

“Managing but just, you wouldn’t like to take the boys for part of the school holidays would you?”

“I don’t think so, they get into everything and there are so many things about this place that could cause them grief, what of Dianne’s new fellow?”

“That’s over he didn’t want the kids and there is talk of her getting back with Michael. Is Peter still visiting you over the New Year?”

“He is.”

“Don’t say anything but he is getting married.”

“Well what do you know – hey mum I have to go, guests are here for dinner.”

“Do you want to talk to Dianne?”

“Next time, have to go – Merry Christmas.”

New Year and Peter arrives as expected, he drives up to the house as Alun is about to take the ride-on for a spin about the large expanse of front lawn. Through the glare on the windscreen glass Alun perceives there is a passenger, soon Peter alights and opens the passenger door.

“You made it,” Alun calls and approaches.

“Did you doubt me?”

“No, only mum said you were busy when I called yesterday.”

“I have taken liberty, I hope you don’t mind.” Peter helps his passenger from the car,” I have invited someone to come along and meet you and Tay.”

A woman alights; she is more handsome than pretty with dark brown hair and a sensible amount of makeup, wearing a full floral summer dress.”

Peter speaks, “Julie, I would like you to meet my brother Alun.”

“You are most welcome Julie,” Alun says.

“I’ve heard a lot about you Alun and I’ve seen your movie, so I feel as I’ve known you for some time.”

“Did you enjoy the movie?”

“I did.”

“I have some news,” Peter says.

“Yes I think I already know; mum let the cat outa’ the bag. When is the big day?”

“We have decided on a May wedding as that will give time to find a venue, also Julie has a large family, needing time to make travelling arrangements.”

“Why not have the wedding here, there is plenty of room?”

“Wouldn’t it disrupt your routine?”

“Not at all, come on let’s get you inside and settled, we can’t stand about in this hot sun all afternoon,” Alun suggests and helps Peter with the luggage, “do you like horse riding Julie?” Alun asks.

“I do but haven’t for some time so I’ll be a little rusty,” Julie admits.

“I’ll have Tay find you a nice quiet one.”

“Where is Tay?” Peter asks.

“He has gone into town and should be back soon.”

Gary’s stories are about life for gay men in Australia’s past and present. Your emails to him are the only payment he receives. Email Gary to let him know you are reading: Conder 333 at Hotmail dot Com

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