Crossing the line - 20. An evening party: Dan’s tale

Half-an hour before things kicked off, one of the guys, new bloke, dropped out with a pretty lame excuse. He won’t be back. Rotas needed adjusting, as it was my first big do, I stepped into his jockstrap. So to speak. Mind, my regular outfit showed enough off as it was. But the idea was to experience everything, show that the guv’nor was willing.

Mind, it meant I had to explore the delights of the men’s mess-room in the basement. Pretty basic, just lockers, basic refreshments, and posters in dubious taste. The lads were just yarning. Two regulars, Brandon and Jack, the others, regular contract staff, all dressed ready, plenty of naked arse and bulging crotch. None quite my type; more like the heavier half of a rugby team. I guessed boldness was the best policy, so they knew what the boss was packing, if of interest.

There was nothing like that, mind, they were just impressed that I was following through, showing willing. Even going commando, too. We had had a good laugh over that; I told them it came with the uniform. That Francis Heyward put his security for the evening in jockstraps meant that nothing surprised them.

I have to say it was bloody scary, standing there with all your bits on display. Felt like a right tit when guests arrived. They barely noticed. It was all that bloody picture, the Norman James. That got everyone staring.

I was paired with Brandon. Burly guy but took it all in his stride. Mind, he managed to keep up a constant stream of chat whilst looking impassively immobile. It was tricky, as a few times I had to stifle a laugh.

‘Shame you didn’t get to make your debut at a proper fancy, the punters are quite a sight. Though the leather jockstraps we wear itch something rotten. When I first joined, his nibs asked whether we could do it in the altogether. I checked with the missus, and she just laughed. Go ahead, if they wanted to see me bits then they were welcome, mind if any guys had tried to touch, she’d have given them what for.’

He became a bit more confiding, ‘Some blokes were worried they’d get too excited, if you get my drift’, He shrugged, ‘Perhaps that was the idea, a real salute! Luckily, they put the kybosh on it, hard enough to do the job dressed like this but impossible if someone had proper hold of your knackers.’

He grinned, ‘One guy offered me money if I’d do the Full Monty. Me! He even tucked a 20 quid note in me jock, bold as you like. Had to turn that down too, no gratuities alas. Had a right good laugh about that one with the missus. She weren’t that thrilled at first, and I’ll admit it took some getting used to, but the money’s good. Still, a bit of a scunner when you go for a job and they say, by the way, you Ok with working in just your kecks.’

‘I needn’t have worried, some of the folk that come seem to like having everything on display. The lot. You do see some sights. But some of the blokes. I’m not gay or anything, but if I did, you know, experiment at bit, then a lot of the blokes here won’t cut it. Know what I mean?’

‘That one there, coming up the steps now, last time I saw him he looked as if he’d forgotten to get dressed. I mean him, I ask you? You fancy any of this lot?’ Then he realised who he was talking to. ‘Sorry Guv, should keep me mouth shut.’ I had laughed and said yes, there were one or two I fancied, but I could see Brandon’s point.

‘Now the dancing boys, they’re something else, pretty as a girl some of them. I gather they do more than dance, but that’s only rumour and we’re careful about that. This is a good gig, and I’d be loth to mess it up.’

The monologue took us from first duty to our break, then we moved to the drinks in the Staircase Hall. The waiters were dressed in regular gear, but very tight-fitting, so attracting some attention. Not surprised really. Attitudes varied from discreet appraisal, to leering, to the full-frontal approach.

Watching the coming and going, into the Drawing Room, there were a few ‘blimey he’s gay’ moments. We both came in for plenty of appraisal too, got a ‘what did I tell you’ grin from Brandon. One bloke, rather drunk, tried to get closer to my naked bum. Needed to bring all my professional training to bear. We were more for show than anything. Not just being undressed, the lighting, all bright spotlight and shadows, made keeping an eye on folk near impossible. The waiters certainly had their work cut out. And the guests were knocking it back, probably stocking up before the film. Then sleep through it.

The Drawing Room was also a dead loss, I tripped over a couple of guys sprawled on the cushions. Getting friendly in the gloom; good on them, but hard to do our job. Certainly atmospheric, but most gathered in the bar or on the terrace. The video show in the Long Gallery was popular, with plenty of raucous comments.

Was a relief to get onto the Terrace; the music level was lower for a start. Folk came outside for air, a smoke or what. Definitely plenty of ‘or what’. You had to get used to the breeze down below. Plenty to watch; one group on the terrace had a young man trying it on with the older ones, but then someone approached us. I tensed, ready to give a professional rebuff then a familiar voice.

‘Dante, an unexpected pleasure’. Francis Heyward’s eyes took in every detail of the costume, or lack thereof. ‘Surely, this is not one of your responsibilities?’

Told him about the guy calling in sick and me deciding to give it a go, even joked about him having seen me in less. Thankfully, he laughed and clapped me on the back, though the hand got perilously close to me bum.

When the film began, most people disappeared downstairs to watch. Most but not all, a constant coming and going, so they guys weren’t all that happy, they’d been looking forward to a break. But I got chance to catch up with all the stuff I should have been doing.

Towards the end of the film, which was bloody long, Brandon and I were back on the Terrace. Hardly security at all, more explaining where the cloakrooms were and stopping people wandering into the garden, though a few folk did slip away from the end of the terrace into the dark. We know what for!

Brandon spotted two younger men who’d been for a quick one, now wandering nonchalantly back up to the house, trying to look as if nothing had happened. I wasn’t sure about a grope in the garden and asked Brandon what he thought.

Blighter turned it into a joke, of course, ’Why sir, thought you’d never ask’, with a rough chortle, ‘Like you say, bit nippy and too many pricky bits. The missus and I prefer a bit of comfort.’ After a moment, he continued, ‘By the way Sir, you seemed quite fresh with Mr H. Nigel used to look like a frightened rabbit when Mr H. appeared.’

I explained how we’d got involved further with Mr H, and even mentioned the swimming which made Brandon smile.

Back in the mess room, you got a feel for the disadvantages; Jack, one of the contract staff, was getting something out of his bag, bent over, winking at me. Not unpleasant, gave me unprofessional thoughts; it was definitely time to get home. So, I dressed and buzzed through to the night guys on the gate, to check all was OK. Dudley was long gone, then I was buzzed, Mr Heyward would like to see you.

First thought was bugger, something wrong. Heyward was in the Marble Hall, drinking a glass of something amber coloured, whisky at a guess.

‘Ah, Dante, I just wanted to say thank you for conduct well above the call of duty. Would you take a glass with me?’

Churlish not to, so I agreed, and as if by magic a small glass appeared.

‘I would not wish to seem frugal, but I am aware you will be driving home. This comes from my distillery; we don’t produce much but I am proud of it.’

Thanked him and was polite about him owning the distillery. Poncy sod. Of course he beamed.

‘I have owned it for a few years. It came with the estate which I bought in Scotland. It had been closed up, but it seemed like a nice hobby, to restore the distillery to make whisky according to traditional methods.’

I said about it being an expensive hobby, but he seemed proud. I had to explain that Vaughan didn’t like whisky and then he produced a small bottle. He wanted to know about any trouble, so I explained about the bloke giving me money for a private show.

Luckily, I was able to get out, unscathed.