There was a ghostly feeling about the house as I awoke in my large Gothic room. Bianca was in her room and Jenni was in her's, and Charlotte lay asleep next to me with Scarlet in between us. The house was a faint blue and although I knew well over a Baker's Dozen of people were nestled tightly in their blankets on the bleak December morning, I couldn't help feeling lonely. The house seemed empty.
I laid in bed a few minutes longer, remembering the previous morning's activities. We had celebrated Christmas for the benefit of the mongrels as I had no share in any Christian behavior, and it had been a splendid day. Today, however, we would be leaving for Dudley or where ever Peter and Ricardo were going to take us, but it just seemed as if no one around was breathing.
After having discussed inviting Jenni along with Jonsey yesterday morning, the clock had struck eight and all the kids became rampant. The ones that were not yet old enough to understand what Christmas was let alone their alphabet were carried downstairs by their mothers and a huge congregation gathered in the front room, larger that previously expected. There sat Peter in the large winged chair with it's back to the fireplace; Jeff Beck on the loveseat beside Paul Rodgers from Free and Bad Company; Rob, Bon, and Jonsey beside their families opening gifts with exaggerated surprise to cheer the children; Jenni and Bianca on the arms of a rococo chair opposite G; Ricardo and his new woman in close leather chairs; Leenin had later joined and stood at the archway across from the kitchen doors; and both my and Bonzo's parents later showed to visit everyone. The time was indeed splendid, even if it wasn't Christmas and even though there was so St. Nick. As long as the kids enjoyed themselves, I did.
Jenni had sat uncomfortably through it all, with sideways glances from Bonzo which, under my gaze, faltered and returned to something less suspicious. She would look at me with intense curiosity and Bianca would notice our stares and look away unhappily. The giving and receiving of presents was ended with kisses and hugs and much rejoicing, especially among fathers and daughters.
At the end of it all, when Charlotte had kissed me lovingly on the cheek and I to her, when she had taken Scarlet and led her into the dining room after the rest for Christmas breakfast, Jenni had called my name softly from the foyer, her beckoning eyes visible through the archway from where I sat. My own curiosity peaked and I had stood fast, nearly overturning my own rococo chair in the process. Swiftly and nonchalantly I met her in the center of the foyer, near the gold and green evergreen that stood taller than the castle doors. She had pulled me close.
"I couldn't give you your gift in front of everyone," she had breathed and a searing pain was sent through my veins. She brandished a Sonny Boy Williamson album out from behind her back and handed it to me. "Bonzo said you didn't have this one."
"No," I had agreed. It was in fairly well condition for being two decades old and I examined it. There was nothing to it and I was slightly turned off by the gift. But I grateful wrapped my warm around her and thanked her sincerely, which she seemed to enjoy.
"You might want to empty it when you're by yourself. It... It may get warped. Do with it however you like-- however you like." With that, she grinned wickedly and left for breakfast before I could tell her she was coming with us to Dudley.
I had brought the record to breakfast with me and sat naturally at the head of the table, interest eating me. I preened my hair every time Jenni glanced my way. What would warp the album? And how did Bonzo have any hand in this at all?
After breakfast I had joined the rest of the gents and pulled the album out of the sleeve. A small little key fell to the floor and Robert had stooped to grab it for me, studying it as if he were a master of keys. When he noticed that I had been waiting for it to be returned, he handed it to me and apologised.
"What kind of key is that?" he asked. "Why was it in the sleeve? You're gonna warp the vinyl!"
"This key?" I repeated. I studied it for a moment, and it became all the more familiar. It was my missing handcuff keys. Another shock was sent through me and I couldn't help grinning to myself. "It's--"
"That key?" Bonzo shouted from the wall of the soundroom. "That key is the key that you lost Robert-- that's why you can't carry a fucking tune in a bucket! You're off key!"
Everyone in the room beside Bonzo, who was topping off his orange juice and brandy, belted out in laughter. My mind was reeling, trying to make sense of the gift, when it hit me. Jenni and handcuffs. I erased the possibility from my mind and set the album down, shoving the key in my pocket.
Later that night I had told Jenni about Dudley and she had agreed and left immediately for packing. I wanted to thank her for her gift a little more personally, but I couldn't think of a way to do it. Now, as I laid in bed, an idea struck me. A devilish, extreme, and pleasing idea that might possibly cost me a friendship, but it was worth it-- it had to be.
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