Winter Pink Skies

As the DVD meandered through adverts and trailers I let my thoughts meander back over a less than harmonious Saturday. I’d had reason to discipline both Lee and Darren. Regretfully, after a period of some seven or eight months without corporal punishment, Lee had in fact landed two spankings on the same day. I felt the pair of them had got exactly what they deserved, though no doubt they thought differently. Darren, it has to be said, thinks he deserves nothing but all out adoration. Lee knows he earned his punishments, not that he likes it, or indeed me, any the better for that, not at the moment anyway.

In retrospect it was never going to be the best of days, certainly not where Lee was concerned. He was sour faced and churlish from the moment he got out of bed, and I knew why. It was his mother and stepfather’s wedding anniversary. I could appreciate he found it difficult. However I felt that after seven years it was high time he accepted that his mother had remarried, that she’d had a right to remarry and moreover to admit it was a happy marriage. They say that contentment is a pearl of great price and whatever Lee personally thought of Joe, he had undoubtedly brought contentment to Marion. Lee never made an effort to remember or mark their anniversary and usually it went past unnoticed or at least unmentioned in our household.

This year’s anniversary might have gone equally unmentioned had it not been for the fact that several weeks prior to the event Joe had commissioned me, in my capacity as Craftsman Jeweller, to design and make a pair of earrings as his anniversary gift to Marion. After years of dithering she had finally taken the plunge and had her ears pierced. Joe worked out that by the time the healing period was over, it would be their anniversary and what better time to present her with a special pair of earrings. I was frankly rather touched by his thoughtfulness and more than honoured to accept the commission. Lee, on the other hand had been seriously put out, but not nearly as put out as I was by his attitude. I would never deign to tell him what clients he could accept floral orders from. 

I told him that he was being incredibly selfish and that I certainly would not tell Joe to bugger off to H.Samuel and buy earrings from there with the rest of the hoi polloi. He had sulked ever since. He has always had a propensity to sulk, a leftover from childhood when sulking was a tool of manipulation, a highly successful one in his case. I have never liked being manipulated, something I made clear to Lee right from the beginning of our relationship.

We met at a Wedding Fayre in a big hotel, each of us showcasing our products in the hope of attracting some lucrative orders. Lee wasn’t happy with the position of his stand at the venue. He had been placed outside the main arena, in a narrow hallway and he reckoned there wasn’t enough room to display examples of his wares to their best advantage. He wanted a stand in the main area…my stand to be precise. His theory was that I needed less display space than anyone else because my wares consisted of small items such as wedding rings. It was clear he expected me to comply with his request, which he delivered with a boyish and charming smile.

I was charmed, very much so. He was attractive with his short blonde hair and blue eyes. My gaydar picked up positive signals, but I still said no, watching with some amusement as the smile instantly vanished. Judging from the sulky look that replaced it this was a young man used to getting his own way.

He complained at length to the venue manager who, flustered and harried, asked if I would mind swapping stands. I did mind and said so. I had booked my place well in advance in order to get a good location and I had paid my fee, so the answer was no. I would not be bullied into a side street so to speak. I offered a compromise. I would display one of his floral creations along with some of his business cards on my stall if he would do the same for me. Lee Carr, floral artist, very rudely let me know what I could do with my compromise and stalked off leaving my palm aching to plant a slap on his cute little bottom, which was temptingly displayed in tight blue jeans.

Neither of us picked up much business that day, but we did pick each other up in the end. It was fate. His van broke down in the hotel car park and I ended up giving him a hand with it, not that he wanted me to, not at first. He snottily told me that he could manage, thank you very much, and why didn’t I just fuck off. I let him know that I disapproved of his obnoxious manner and to my surprise he promptly burst into tears.

I ushered him into my car and provided him with tissues to soak up the flow. He sheepishly apologised for his attitude, explaining that he’d just recently set up in business. It was his first Wedding Fayre and he was anxious and overwrought about everything. The van breaking down was the last straw, as he didn’t think he had enough money in the coffers to get it repaired. I offered my help as a moderately competent mechanic, an offer that was more graciously accepted. A little over six months later we were living together.

Usually when I accept a jewellery commission Lee takes an interest in the design process making little suggestions and enjoying watching me work, one artist to another, but not this time. I even offered to let him choose the diamonds and pearls I was going to use, but he was having none of it. It was almost as if he thought showing an interest would somehow be seen as him giving his approval to the marriage, and he’d rather die than do that. He refused to even look at the earrings when I’d completed them. I was proud of them too. I’d based the design on some rubbings I’d taken from an intricately carved, sixteenth century staircase in a National Trust house we’d visited while on holiday. I didn’t press him, but I was sad that he couldn’t find it within himself to be pleased for his mother.

copyright material Fabian Black 2010