The Church and the Tradesman - 9. The Missing Plumber

I took a step back and he followed me on his knees, and then another, and another, until I was cornered.

‘Not this again. This is getting ridiculous’.

“Don’t Tyrone, this is fucking stupid.”

I didn’t look down, not even when I felt his fingers on my zip and my trousers falling around my ankles.

They were followed in rapid succession by my pants and then by my phone.

I had every intention of telling him to stop, but other than a few half-hearted and barely audible pleas, nothing else escaped my mouth and his plan encountered little resistance.

It was a no-brainer and he knew it. No one would turn away such an unlikely proposition. It’s not every day that a teenage pin-up boy comes crawling towards you on his hands and knees. I was no fool, but I would have been clinically insane to have refused him what he so clearly desired. I had my entire life to feel ashamed of myself and I would have gladly accepted those terms.

I bit my lip, stared at the ceiling and then the phone rang.

It was on the floor where I had dropped it and I could see the display light up with the name ‘Jays’ on it.

‘Bob’!

Tyrone picked it up.

“Don’t answer it!” I said but it was too late.

“This is Tyrone; who are you?” he said. “What do you want?” He was, without doubt, the rudest young man that I had ever met, but for once I didn’t really care. “No, he’s busy at the moment.”

It was true but Bob would have been confused and I could hear his monotone voice rattling away in the background as the pop star glanced up at me and smiled.

It was a sight that will live with me forever.

He had my phone in one hand and my dick in the other and was talking into the wrong one. It was only a joke; proving that he did have a sense of humour after all and like everything else that he did, it was totally random and unpredictable.

If only I could have got a photograph.

‘How much would those bods outside the gate be willing to pay for a picture like this’?

I don’t know what Bob must have been thinking on the other end of that phone but he must have heard me laughing. Then, when it was no longer funny, Tyrone ditched the conversation and handed me the phone like a hot potato.

“It’s your boss,” he said. “The funny fat man.”

The very last person who I wanted to talk to at that moment was Bob—or maybe the second from last, after my mum—and I had a funny feeling that Tyrone wasn’t going to be much help. He had an evil grin on his face as I snatched the phone from him.

“You're going to like this,” he said pressing my penis against his face. I bit my lip and looked to the ceiling.

‘Oh fuck’!

“Andy. Are you there?”

“Yes.”

“What’s up…you alright?”

“Yes.”

“You sure, what are you doing up there?”

“Yes…wait in the van for me Bob, I’ll be down in ahhhhhh.”

“What the fucking hell is going on up there?”

“Nothing Bob, I’ll be right down.”

“Do you need a hand up there?”

“NO! Definitely not. I’ll be down in a…in a…in a…I’ve gotta goooooh shit.” I dropped the phone again and it bounced on the carpet face up. I could hear Bob swearing and I knew that he would be coming to investigate, probably with the security guard. I needed to sort this out and Tyrone must have been thinking the same thing.

He picked up the phone and spoke to Bob. “Will you go away,” he said calmly and then ended the call. “I hope I didn’t get you into trouble.”

“Trouble? No, of course not. Whatever gave you that impression?”

He laughed and licked his lips. “Was that nice,” he asked and I nodded. “I told you that you would like it. It’s my first time.” His teasing smile told me otherwise as he went back to his self-appointed task.

Clearly, this kid had talent but it wasn’t necessarily limited to the music business. It was not the work of a novice and it made me wonder if this was one of the reasons why he got to the top in the first place.

‘Welcome to the world of pop. This is what they all do. Everyone knows that. This is their way of giving a tip’.

I was just thankful that it was Tyrone paying the bill and not Mrs Dewsbury.

Bob reckoned that Tyrone had had more dicks than he had had hot dinners and Bob had eaten quite a few hot dinners in his time. I was beginning to wonder if there was any truth in that statement when the phone rang again.

I knew that Bob would want some answers and I didn’t blame him. I was surprised that he wasn’t banging the door down already. It had been a ridiculously long day and he wanted to go home. I was going to tell him to go without me but when I looked down at the phone it was Jazz’s name that was flashing on the screen. Tyrone had told me that she was coming over.

He picked up the phone and threw it across the room and this time, it didn’t survive, breaking up on impact.

“What did you do that for?”

“Do you want me to do this or not?” he said abruptly. “Huh?”

“Yes, but you didn’t have to throw it across the room; you could have just switched it off.”

He stared at me as if I was mad.

“So, I’ll buy you another phone okay?” He shook his head as if I was being unreasonable by complaining and maybe I was. I wasn’t really sure anymore.

As far as he was concerned, everyone could be bought off, including me. The phone was a distraction so he simply threw it away, knowing that he could get someone to replace it, probably with something much better and a lot more expensive, and everything would be hunky dory.

I suppose that’s how it works but I didn’t like the way he just assumed that I could be so easily bought off. I had standards but I already knew the make and model of the new phone that I was going to ask for.

‘He’s gonna pay for this. Pop star or no pop star, there is no way that I’m letting him do this for nothing’!

He must have been able to see the folly in continuing with Bob on the prowl and he got to his feet and put his arms around my neck. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll carry on, but first, I think that you should go and tell your boss to fuck off and stop bothering us. Then you can stay here for the night. Would you like that?”

Before I could answer he had his tongue in my throat, he was probably so used to getting whatever he wanted, there was little point in waiting for me to say yes. I doubt if anyone had ever turned him down. I was tempted to be the first if only to see what reaction I got but in the end, I was no different from anyone else.

He licked the side of my face and dropped his hands to grip my dick, rolling it expertly between his palms. It was probably the only tool that he knew how to use.

“Why don’t you go downstairs give him some lame excuse like you have a leaky pipe or a hole that needs plugging?” He giggled at his little jokes and maybe in his world everything was that simple but I knew that Bob would be demanding some proper answers when he saw me and that would be very soon. I could hear him talking to the security guard before they knocked on the door.

‘Shit, what am I really gonna say to him’?

Tyrone smiled, he looked as if he was actually enjoying this, but I was in a mini-state of panic. He glanced down at me and I quickly tucked myself away and fastened my trousers as he giggled.

There was another knock on the door followed by the concerned voice of the security guard.

“Tyrone, are you okay in there?”

“What do you want?”

“Is Andy in there,” said Bob speaking much louder.

“Who’s Andy?” asked Tyrone.

“My colleague Andy…the plumber.”

“Oh him. No, he left about five minutes ago.” I rolled my eyes as Tyrone put his index finger to my lips and slowly shook his head. I knew that it was a bad idea but there was no way back now and I allowed him to gently push me aside.

“Do you know where he went?” asked the security guard.

Tyrone mumbled a few choice words before grabbing my sleeve and leading me across the room to the en-suite bathroom.

“WAIT A MINUTE!” he shouted as he started to strip. This guy had a nice body and he knew it too, but if he was in any doubt then he only had to look at my face as he stood in front of me. He was wearing a pair of red boxer briefs—similar to the pair that Bob had stolen earlier—but nothing else.

“Don’t you think we should wait until they’ve gone?” I laughed.

“Shut up dummy,” he said but he was smiling.

There was another sharp knock on the door.

“I TOLD YOU TO WAIT!” he screamed out.

“This is crazy Tyrone, I should go out and talk to them.”

“No,” he whispered. “Wait in here and don’t come out until I tell you to, understand.” He laughed and kissed me. “If you want, you can take off these rags and jump in the shower, I can even wash you when I get back. Would you like that?”

“Do I get to play with you as well?”

“Of course you do, then…I’m gonna fuck you.” He must have seen the hesitant look on my face. “That’s okay, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s okay.”

‘I think’.

It wasn't something that I would usually agree to do with a virtual stranger, but I was willing to suspend my normal rules for this guy, although I wasn't sure why.

“Good, I’ll be right back.”

‘One day I’m gonna be laughing at this’.

It was funny, I suppose, but not for Bob and I could hear his worried voice as Tyrone opened the door to talk to them.

“What the fuck do you idiots want? I was asleep when you knocked.”

“I’m sorry Mister Spencer, we’re trying to find out where he’s gone that’s all.”

“Well, he’s not in here, if that’s what you're thinking.”

“Where the bloody hell is he then?” Bob’s voice was distinctive and much louder than the others.

“He came here to collect his phone. I think he went home,” said Tyrone. He was a competent liar, even I was believing him but the security guard wasn’t falling form it.

“That’s impossible, we would have seen him leave,” he said.

“Not if he went out the front.”

“The alarm would have sounded and I would have seen him on the CCTV camera. Besides, there’s a guy on the gate. No one can get in or out without passing him. He’s still in the building.”

“Well don’t ask me,” said Tyrone. “It’s not my job to find missing plumbers. Go and look for him yourselves. It’s like the middle of the fucking night and I need my sleep!”

“What’s going on?”

‘Shit, Mrs Dewsbury, that’s all I need. The nosey cow’!

I walked away from the door and paced the bathroom anxiously, then did what any sensible person would do under the circumstances. I switched on the shower and stripped off.

I could probably fit my entire bathroom into that walk-in shower and it was only the spare room.

At last, I was able to feel the benefit of the new boiler that we had worked so hard to fit as I stood beneath the piping hot spray and tried to relax. It wasn’t easy; my heart was still pounding as I laughed to myself.

‘Poor Jazz, she’s probably still trying to call me. She’s never gonna believe any of this’.

I could barely believe it myself, I kept expecting to wake up from this crazy dream and start rolling around my room laughing.

- 3.30 am –

It was a good twenty minutes later when I switched off the shower and stepped out. The boy wonder hadn’t shown up and I was starting to wrinkle. There were warm towels on the heated rail and a huge mirror at the back of the marble counter. I looked and felt a lot better but I was starting to flag.

When I put my ear to the door, the bedroom was quiet. I was expecting to hear the television at least.

‘Maybe he’s reading’?

I decided to take a chance and reached for the door handle. The lock was on.

‘Shit, I locked the door, didn’t I? What a dickhead. I wonder if he tried to get in while I was in the shower’?

I wrapped the towel around my waist and opened the door. The bedroom lights were dimmed and Tyrone was in bed asleep.

I sat on the edge of the bed and watched him, expecting him to wake-up, but he was out for the count. He was even snoring. A cute little high pitched nasal whistle that made me laugh.

For the first time, I was able to get a good look at his face up close. He was a pop star, so he was obviously good looking, with all the usual features that teenage girls all seemed to adore. Big lips, button nose, perfect teeth, and big dreamy eyes. Add a dirty blond mop of hair and you got Tyrone but I wasn’t usually attracted to pretty boys and bratty pop idols had never been near the top of my list.

I started making a noise, walking around the room, coughing, switching the lights on full but there was nothing that I could do to wake him. The most that I got was a few mumbles as he pulled the sheet over his head and turned away.

I would have to do it physically, so I reached over to shake him.

“Tyrone…Tyrone.” He threw his arm at me and moved across the bed.

“Go away…leave me alone.”

“Tyrone, err, do you want me to go home?”

There was no answer from him other than his sexy snoring.

‘Okay, decision time. He won't wake up, so what do I do’? Did Bob leave? What am I going to say to him? How am I going to explain any of this and will anyone believe me if I tried’?

Church would be starting soon. If I could have got there then I would have been able to forget about everything but that was no longer a possibility.

I wondered if Jazz was outside somewhere waiting for me; trying to call me. My phone was in pieces on the floor as I walked over to the window and opened the curtains just enough for me to peek out but the spare room was on the opposite side of the house and looked out onto the garden.

‘Maybe Jazz went on her own. No way she would miss church just because I wasn’t there’.

If I had left, then I would never have been able to make it passed the security guards, and they would want to know where I had been for the past hour-and-a-half. Staying put was the only option that I had.

“Okay, move over, pretty boy.”

I dimmed the lights again, dropped the towel to the floor, and gently lifted the sheets to slide in next to him.

At least now, I was able to claim that I had slept with Tyrone Spencer, even under a lie detector. Not that I would ever have told anyone, except of course, Jazz.

I’m pretty sure that I was asleep at some point, but if I was, then it was marginal and probably for no longer than half-an-hour. Nowhere near long enough to feel any benefit.

I wasn’t used to sharing a bed and neither, apparently, was Tyrone. It wasn’t my fault. I was a terrible fidget in my sleep and I must have accidentally rolled into him and grabbed him by his undercarriage.

It was a big mistake.

He woke up and he must have woken up most of Camden Town with him, shouting, yelling, and pushing me away.

“WHOA!!! What’s up?”

As I turned onto my side I was confronted with a full-on attack, legs and arms striking out at me wildly.

“LEAVE ME ALONE!”

“Stop it,” I pleaded with him. “I didn’t do anything.”

“STAY AWAY FROM ME!”

As the punches continued to rain in unabated, I jumped out of bed and scrambled across the room to switch on the light.

“What the fuck! What did you do that for?”

He was sitting up in bed staring at me shaking and scared. Then he started crying. Really crying. He was bawling his eyes out as he fell back on the bed and curled up into a ball with his back to me.

‘Shit’!

“Tyrone, stop it. Come on, what’s wrong with you?”

“GO AWAY! I HATE YOU!”

This wasn’t good; if ever there was a time to panic it was then.

‘Does he think that I was trying to molest him or something? What if he accuses me of trying to rape him’?

“Tyrone, listen to me, calm down. It’s okay. Please, stop crying.” I sat on the edge of the bed and reached out to touch his shoulder. I was trying to console him but once again he lashed out, this time with his elbows followed by two or three rapid punches as he turned and threw himself at me. I managed to grab his wrists in self-defence and push him onto his back. It stopped him from hitting me but only made things worse.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” he yelled.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“HELP ME, HELP…”

I panicked, covering his mouth with my hand to muffle his voice but it was too little, too late.

“GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

‘Mrs Dewsbury’!!!!!

I would be the first to admit that it looked bad. When the door flew open, I was naked and kneeling beside him on the bed. I had him pinned down, with one hand holding his wrist and the other covering his mouth.

As I let him go and turned towards her to plead my innocence, something hit me hard on the back of the head and I passed out.