Hello my pretties,
here is part 5/6 of the UK Meet 2014 blog story from Elin Gregory, long-time UK Meet attender, panel contributor, and generally great person. She had me in her comfy chair last year, and I was very well looked after, I can assure you.
If you missed the previous parts of the story, here they are:
*opens page of book*
I opened my eyes—and found myself looking at the last person I’d expected to see here.
“Well, don’t you look like the good time that was had by all?” With one fist planted on a glossy PVC clad hip, my nicotine-enabler from earlier in the evening swung her handbag. “I thought you said you were going to the Grand?”
“I – er – I sort of did, but there was this bloke, see.”
“Darling, there always is.” Her smile was bright even if her mascara had run a little. “Well, I NEED to get these shoes off so unless you need more directions… What’s your room number?”
I pawed at the pockets of my trousers for my key card, stared at an unfamiliar smart phone and swore. “This isn’t mine. I must’ve left … Oh God, I don’t want to go back in there.”
Her chuckle cut off abruptly and she scowled. “Why not? Sweetheart, what happened? Tell Anna.”
“Anna Phlactic. Shocking, isn’t it? Now, give.”
It was mortifying but I managed to choke out the story – wrong hotel, beery-guy, Rob, tequila, then the odious Reverend. “I know I’m drunk,” I said, “and I can’t honestly say that I’ve been that selective this evening, but I do have standards and the Reverend Josiah Netherbottom is off the bottom of even my scale. He’s fucking scary.”
“Scarier than me?” Anna said, red lips pursed. “I don’t think so,” and she hammered on the door with a scarlet clawed fist.
“Hah! Changed your mind – Well, hellohhhhhh! Another one for the party. Look what Gary brought us, Rob.” The Reverend, whose Netherbottom was now fully displayed, grinned, his eyes lighting up like the fires of hell as he took in my companion’s finery. Those bony hands lifted to grab then stilled abruptly as Anna’s arm jerked forward. Her tricep bulged and Netherbottom made a glurk sound.
“We’re just going to stand like this a moment while Darren gets his trousers and stuff,” Anna said. “Darren, get weaving.”
I darted for the scatter of clothing, ignoring Rob, who was staring at Anna with a horrified expression that made me glad I couldn’t see what she was doing. I threw his trousers at him, grabbed mine, and checked for wallet, phone and key card. All the while the Reverend was making a breathy sound part way between a whine and a moan.
“Ready?” Anna said. With an expression of utter disdain she wiped her hand on the Reverend’s chest and followed me to the door, closing it with a quiet click. “Eww,” she said holding her hand out from her side. “Now I really need a shower.”
“You’re wonderful.” I meant it too. All that pizzazz and in your face courage. Not to mention, from the noises Josiah had made, a vice like grip.
“I bet you say that to all the drag queens,” she said, but she looked pleased. “Look, my room is a few doors down. Come inside and get dressed properly.”
I followed her, head swimming and feeling a bit sick, into a room that looked as though Milan Fashion Week had exploded in it.
“Excuse the mess. Hotel wardrobes are never big enough. Here.” Anna pushed a bottle of water into my hand. “You drink that. I’m going to take my slap off and have a shower while you make up your mind what you’re going to do. And, since I reckon you owe me, while I’m in the shower you can make me a nice cup of tea. Milk, no sugar, all right? Make one for yourself, too, if you like.” Anna smiled. “But if you decide you need to leave before I come out, just put my tea on the bedside table, okay? Cheer up, sweetheart. You’re safe now.”
“Tea sounds good,” I said, eyeing Anna’s broad shoulders and neat arse as she sashayed into the bathroom.
I drank some water, clinked the tea cups, boiled the kettle, checked my phone for texts [nothing from Nigel but I could get laser eye surgery for a very decent price] and tried to ignore the running water, the sounds of movement beyond the bathroom door.
I should go back to my room. I should get a good night’s sleep and try to put this evening behind me. I shouldn’t tempt fate by staying here. The way my luck was running Anna would burst out of the bathroom naked with a chainsaw. But I couldn’t help feeling that she was the only person for months – years – that had been there for me when I’d needed help. Even Nigel – Anton—was in Manchester because he had fancied the trip, rather than because he’d wanted to cheer me up. I didn’t want to leave. It was nice to be looked after, nice to look after someone else. I missed that. On the other hand there was the possibility that I was on the rebound from Rob. Oh dear God, I was a mess. But the water had settled my stomach and my head had stopped swimming. Time to make up my mind.
What did I really want?
The bathroom door opened emitting a gust of lemon and Anna. No, not Anna. An unremarkable-looking, medium sized bloke, clean and damp from the top of his closely cut brown hair to his bare feet.
“Still here, then,” he said, hitching his towel more tightly around his hips. “Aww tea! You’re a star.” He made a beeline for the cup and picked it up then smiled at me through the steam. His eyes crinkled at the corners, his lips parted in a multi-megawatt grin that made Anna’s look dim in comparison and made the adjective ‘unremarkable’ completely inaccurate.
“So have you decided what you’re going to do yet?”
Next week it’s my turn to wrap up the whole story seamlessly. So, no worries there, *rolls eyes*.
Until next time,
Liam Livings xx