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“Home” is set in the heart of Sydney
where we catch up with some of the characters from “Leather+Lace” and “Caught” and are introduced to two new ones: Jesse a sophisticated art gallery owner and Isaac, a typical boy from the bush. |
Excerpt:
“Congratulations, you’ve had a few sales already.” One of the catering firm’s waiters passed within easy reach, so I handed a glass of Prosecco to Nathaniel Taylor, the star of the exhibition. Opening nights were always difficult. You never knew how the public would respond.
Taking the glass from my hand, Nat downed the contents in one gulp. “I can’t thank you enough, Jesse. If you hadn’t made me take my finger out of my arse and start taking photos again, I don’t know where I’d be.”
I studied my friend’s profile. After being a recluse for well over a year, he now found it difficult to relax in public. He was trying to feign interest in the guests, but his gaze kept straying to a trim figure clad in a red sarong and high heels. No. Despite the renewed confidence that Danny—or his alter ego, Dannii—had given him, Nat would still rather be anywhere but here, having to mix and mingle with strangers.
“The benefit is mutual,” I assured him. “Splitting the focus between established and new artists and renaming the gallery ‘Now and Then’ was a risky step to take. Being able to display your latest collection is a real coup for me.”
“Are the vultures still circling?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I laughed sardonically. “As far as his friends are concerned, the fact I took over the gallery before Vittorio died just proved I was only with him for the money. It didn’t matter that I’d worked without a wage for most of the time we were living together.”
Nat dragged his gaze away from his own lover and turned to me. The surprise on his face going some way to ease my fears. “But in the end, you were the business because he was too sick to cope.”
I let out a long sigh. Nat’s words brought back too many unhappy memories. “I only assumed full control after he made the suggestion. He needed full time nursing care, and it was the only thing I could still do for him. Talking about my plans and the changes made him happy.” I snorted. “Not that some of his so-called friends would be aware of that. They were very conspicuous in their absence.” A few of them had turned up tonight. They probably wouldn’t buy anything, but at least they’d responded to my invitation. “To be fair, they hated seeing such a beautiful man confined to a living hell in a wheelchair.” I had too.
Nat passed the empty glass to a passing waiter and rested his hand on my arm reassuringly. “Knowing Vittorio, that’s why he made sure the legal documents were watertight. To prevent anyone taking the business or apartment from you when he died.”
“Doesn’t make coping with the vultures any easier.” I admitted, surveying the crowd. Nat’s lover was now chatting to an elderly lady in a wheelchair.
“Let’s talk about happier things,” I said. “Why is Danny appearing as Dannii?”
A grin crossed Nat’s craggy face. “He said there was enough of him on display in the photographs, thank you very much.”
While we hadn’t included any of the erotic nude portraits that had made Nathaniel Taylor famous, a lot of bare skin was exposed in the exhibition entitled: The Male in Motion. Most featured his scantily clad lover in a number of poses. “Danny looks great.”
Nat grimaced. “He hates having his photo taken. I think he only agreed because he knew that was the only way I’d get behind a camera lens again. We had a doozy of an argument that day.”
“Who’s he talking to?” The frail lady was energetically pointing to one of my favourite photos: Danny with coils of rope wrapped loosely around his body.
“Connie, the lady he used to live with. She insisted on coming tonight because she wants to have a picture of Danny on the wall. Looks like she’s made up her mind.”
“Drat, I was going to buy that one.” Purely for the amusement of seeing Danny’s usually impassive features covered by such a fierce scowl.
“Yeah.” Nat chuckled. “Connie definitely knows what she wants.” The softness of his expression betrayed how fond he was of the lady in question. “But that reminds me….” He focussed his attention back on me. “Thanks for promoting the show so well. Looks like I needn’t have badgered Danny’s cousins to make up the numbers.”
“You thought no one would turn up?” I stared at Nat in surprise. The man obviously had no idea how popular his photographs were. “Everyone’s been asking why you disappeared off the scene and whether you’re going to do more of your sexy photos of couples.”
Nat still didn’t seem to believe me.
“You’re a great photographer,” I reassured him. “You have no idea how grateful I am that you took those portraits of Vittorio and me. It’s how I like to remember him… before he became ill.”
Nat smiled and nodded. “I remember that day well. He was so proud of you. You were his treasure.”
Tears filled my eyes, but I hastily blinked them away. For months, Vittori had been complaining of pins and needles in his arms and he stumbled sometimes when walking. It took the doctors ages to work out that he had an acute version of the dreaded motor neurone disease. Thankfully, that was just weeks before he died. If he’d known what was wrong with him earlier, he would have been even more depressed.
“Oops, look who’s coming. I better go and circulate.” Nat took off as if the devil himself was after him.
A familiar voice suggested he might very well have been, but in human form. I steeled myself to greet Nat’s ex. Nat had slimmed down since the breakup whereas his ex had gained the same amount of weight. Given their history, I’d been hesitant to send him an invite, but he knew so many people. Shaking the proffered hand, I noted it was just as damp and soft as ever. “Good evening, Graham. How are you?”
“Fine, Jesse. Wonderful turn up, isn’t it.” He preened as if some of the success was attributable to him.
Wanker! I swallowed the retort and simply said. “Seen any you like?”
He surveyed the room and smirked. “That big handsome stud over near the food table. Do you think he’s been broken in yet?”
I raised my eyebrow. Discovering Graham shared my liking for tall, strong men spoiled the moment somewhat. “I was talking about Nat’s photos, Graham.”
“Oh them!” He sniffed. “They’re okay if you like that sort of thing.” The glare he directed at Dannii showed no love was lost between those two. Graham didn’t hang around to discover what I thought about his lukewarm support of his ex-lover’s photography or Nat’s reappearance on the scene. Maybe he was regretting his decision to leave when Nat dropped out of circulation.
I smiled to myself. Vittorio hadn’t been surprised when he discovered Graham had left. “I always figured he was only with Nathaniel for the money,” he’d commented. I sobered at the recollection that some people had a similar opinion about Vittorio and me.
At least Graham had good taste. The man he’d been admiring snagged another oyster from the dish and turned to survey the room. Our gazes met and, for a second, I wondered if I’d strayed into one of those old movies where two strangers meet to an accompaniment of soaring violins. He was definitely movie star material, possessing the rugged good looks that made Aussie actors so popular in Hollywood. When he realized I was looking at him, he winked, opened his mouth a fraction, and slowly licked his lips.
Okay, scrap the soaring violins, this was George Michael at his funkiest. I had no doubt about what was going on in the man’s mind. Much the same that was going on in mine. Sex, cock, mouth in no particular order.
Quickly, I glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed his provocative behaviour, but judging by the high pitched chatter, no one had.
When my gaze returned to the gorgeous guy he opened his mouth wider, tilted his head back and dropped the oyster in. He didn’t even bother to chew it, letting it slip right down. “Nice,” he mouthed, licking his lips again before giving me another wink.
He was so over the top, I wondered if he thought I needed cheat sheets to follow along. I hadn’t needed them at uni, and I sure as hell didn’t need them now.
Heat flared in my face. Did I know him? I’d sent out stacks of invitations, but the event was open to the public. Maybe he was an actor, and I’d seen him in something and forgotten. Reluctantly dragging my gaze away, I tried to remember if and when I’d seen him before. I’d certainly seen many like him. Men who could have been models for an R.M. Williams’ catalogue: cream moleskin trousers, soft button-up shirts with sleeves rolled to the elbow, elastic side boots. Back home, farmers and stockmen from the surrounding properties purchased their petrol, smokes and other essentials at my father’s store because it was a three hour’s drive to the closest supermarket. Many a time, I’d been lost for words when they smiled and handed me their money.
I took another surreptitious glance. Nah, fat chance of finding a real country boy in the city. He must be an actor, and I’d seen him on TV.
Should I go up and talk to him? But what if he was a famous actor, and I didn’t know his name? That would be ultra embarrassing.
Avoiding the temptation to meet the man responsible for my heart racing like an out-of-control train, I circled the room, finalizing a few more sales on the way. Over the years, I’d learned how to operate on automatic: be charming, say the right thing at the right time, take care not to be too pushy, but turn the topic to the photos on the wall whenever the conversation drifted to discussing Vittorio. He’d been a well known and much loved figure in the scene and missed by many, not just me. After twelve months, the pain was only now subsiding.
The feeling I was being stared at caused the hairs on the back of my neck to prickle. This time, when I caught the stranger’s gaze, he smiled at me. Apart from getting all hot and bothered imagining him naked, what was it about him that had snagged my interest? The mere fact that he was interested in me? But why was he? Sure, I looked after myself, but no one would ever call me handsome. I certainly wasn’t anywhere near as special as his attention implied.
Maybe he wasn’t an actor after all. Perhaps instinct was warning me that he was one of those freeloaders who were the bane of gallery openings? They never bought anything, but scanned the What’s On, scoring free booze and food and sometimes picking up lonely men or women. They were usually more sophisticated than this guy though. Graham had picked him as being from the bush and, now I was closer, I suspected he was correct. His skin had that bronzed ruggedness that came from too much time spent in the harsh Australian outback and not a tanning salon. Just my type.
“Congratulations, you’ve had a few sales already.” One of the catering firm’s waiters passed within easy reach, so I handed a glass of Prosecco to Nathaniel Taylor, the star of the exhibition. Opening nights were always difficult. You never knew how the public would respond.
Taking the glass from my hand, Nat downed the contents in one gulp. “I can’t thank you enough, Jesse. If you hadn’t made me take my finger out of my arse and start taking photos again, I don’t know where I’d be.”
I studied my friend’s profile. After being a recluse for well over a year, he now found it difficult to relax in public. He was trying to feign interest in the guests, but his gaze kept straying to a trim figure clad in a red sarong and high heels. No. Despite the renewed confidence that Danny—or his alter ego, Dannii—had given him, Nat would still rather be anywhere but here, having to mix and mingle with strangers.
“The benefit is mutual,” I assured him. “Splitting the focus between established and new artists and renaming the gallery ‘Now and Then’ was a risky step to take. Being able to display your latest collection is a real coup for me.”
“Are the vultures still circling?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I laughed sardonically. “As far as his friends are concerned, the fact I took over the gallery before Vittorio died just proved I was only with him for the money. It didn’t matter that I’d worked without a wage for most of the time we were living together.”
Nat dragged his gaze away from his own lover and turned to me. The surprise on his face going some way to ease my fears. “But in the end, you were the business because he was too sick to cope.”
I let out a long sigh. Nat’s words brought back too many unhappy memories. “I only assumed full control after he made the suggestion. He needed full time nursing care, and it was the only thing I could still do for him. Talking about my plans and the changes made him happy.” I snorted. “Not that some of his so-called friends would be aware of that. They were very conspicuous in their absence.” A few of them had turned up tonight. They probably wouldn’t buy anything, but at least they’d responded to my invitation. “To be fair, they hated seeing such a beautiful man confined to a living hell in a wheelchair.” I had too.
Nat passed the empty glass to a passing waiter and rested his hand on my arm reassuringly. “Knowing Vittorio, that’s why he made sure the legal documents were watertight. To prevent anyone taking the business or apartment from you when he died.”
“Doesn’t make coping with the vultures any easier.” I admitted, surveying the crowd. Nat’s lover was now chatting to an elderly lady in a wheelchair.
“Let’s talk about happier things,” I said. “Why is Danny appearing as Dannii?”
A grin crossed Nat’s craggy face. “He said there was enough of him on display in the photographs, thank you very much.”
While we hadn’t included any of the erotic nude portraits that had made Nathaniel Taylor famous, a lot of bare skin was exposed in the exhibition entitled: The Male in Motion. Most featured his scantily clad lover in a number of poses. “Danny looks great.”
Nat grimaced. “He hates having his photo taken. I think he only agreed because he knew that was the only way I’d get behind a camera lens again. We had a doozy of an argument that day.”
“Who’s he talking to?” The frail lady was energetically pointing to one of my favourite photos: Danny with coils of rope wrapped loosely around his body.
“Connie, the lady he used to live with. She insisted on coming tonight because she wants to have a picture of Danny on the wall. Looks like she’s made up her mind.”
“Drat, I was going to buy that one.” Purely for the amusement of seeing Danny’s usually impassive features covered by such a fierce scowl.
“Yeah.” Nat chuckled. “Connie definitely knows what she wants.” The softness of his expression betrayed how fond he was of the lady in question. “But that reminds me….” He focussed his attention back on me. “Thanks for promoting the show so well. Looks like I needn’t have badgered Danny’s cousins to make up the numbers.”
“You thought no one would turn up?” I stared at Nat in surprise. The man obviously had no idea how popular his photographs were. “Everyone’s been asking why you disappeared off the scene and whether you’re going to do more of your sexy photos of couples.”
Nat still didn’t seem to believe me.
“You’re a great photographer,” I reassured him. “You have no idea how grateful I am that you took those portraits of Vittorio and me. It’s how I like to remember him… before he became ill.”
Nat smiled and nodded. “I remember that day well. He was so proud of you. You were his treasure.”
Tears filled my eyes, but I hastily blinked them away. For months, Vittori had been complaining of pins and needles in his arms and he stumbled sometimes when walking. It took the doctors ages to work out that he had an acute version of the dreaded motor neurone disease. Thankfully, that was just weeks before he died. If he’d known what was wrong with him earlier, he would have been even more depressed.
“Oops, look who’s coming. I better go and circulate.” Nat took off as if the devil himself was after him.
A familiar voice suggested he might very well have been, but in human form. I steeled myself to greet Nat’s ex. Nat had slimmed down since the breakup whereas his ex had gained the same amount of weight. Given their history, I’d been hesitant to send him an invite, but he knew so many people. Shaking the proffered hand, I noted it was just as damp and soft as ever. “Good evening, Graham. How are you?”
“Fine, Jesse. Wonderful turn up, isn’t it.” He preened as if some of the success was attributable to him.
Wanker! I swallowed the retort and simply said. “Seen any you like?”
He surveyed the room and smirked. “That big handsome stud over near the food table. Do you think he’s been broken in yet?”
I raised my eyebrow. Discovering Graham shared my liking for tall, strong men spoiled the moment somewhat. “I was talking about Nat’s photos, Graham.”
“Oh them!” He sniffed. “They’re okay if you like that sort of thing.” The glare he directed at Dannii showed no love was lost between those two. Graham didn’t hang around to discover what I thought about his lukewarm support of his ex-lover’s photography or Nat’s reappearance on the scene. Maybe he was regretting his decision to leave when Nat dropped out of circulation.
I smiled to myself. Vittorio hadn’t been surprised when he discovered Graham had left. “I always figured he was only with Nathaniel for the money,” he’d commented. I sobered at the recollection that some people had a similar opinion about Vittorio and me.
At least Graham had good taste. The man he’d been admiring snagged another oyster from the dish and turned to survey the room. Our gazes met and, for a second, I wondered if I’d strayed into one of those old movies where two strangers meet to an accompaniment of soaring violins. He was definitely movie star material, possessing the rugged good looks that made Aussie actors so popular in Hollywood. When he realized I was looking at him, he winked, opened his mouth a fraction, and slowly licked his lips.
Okay, scrap the soaring violins, this was George Michael at his funkiest. I had no doubt about what was going on in the man’s mind. Much the same that was going on in mine. Sex, cock, mouth in no particular order.
Quickly, I glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed his provocative behaviour, but judging by the high pitched chatter, no one had.
When my gaze returned to the gorgeous guy he opened his mouth wider, tilted his head back and dropped the oyster in. He didn’t even bother to chew it, letting it slip right down. “Nice,” he mouthed, licking his lips again before giving me another wink.
He was so over the top, I wondered if he thought I needed cheat sheets to follow along. I hadn’t needed them at uni, and I sure as hell didn’t need them now.
Heat flared in my face. Did I know him? I’d sent out stacks of invitations, but the event was open to the public. Maybe he was an actor, and I’d seen him in something and forgotten. Reluctantly dragging my gaze away, I tried to remember if and when I’d seen him before. I’d certainly seen many like him. Men who could have been models for an R.M. Williams’ catalogue: cream moleskin trousers, soft button-up shirts with sleeves rolled to the elbow, elastic side boots. Back home, farmers and stockmen from the surrounding properties purchased their petrol, smokes and other essentials at my father’s store because it was a three hour’s drive to the closest supermarket. Many a time, I’d been lost for words when they smiled and handed me their money.
I took another surreptitious glance. Nah, fat chance of finding a real country boy in the city. He must be an actor, and I’d seen him on TV.
Should I go up and talk to him? But what if he was a famous actor, and I didn’t know his name? That would be ultra embarrassing.
Avoiding the temptation to meet the man responsible for my heart racing like an out-of-control train, I circled the room, finalizing a few more sales on the way. Over the years, I’d learned how to operate on automatic: be charming, say the right thing at the right time, take care not to be too pushy, but turn the topic to the photos on the wall whenever the conversation drifted to discussing Vittorio. He’d been a well known and much loved figure in the scene and missed by many, not just me. After twelve months, the pain was only now subsiding.
The feeling I was being stared at caused the hairs on the back of my neck to prickle. This time, when I caught the stranger’s gaze, he smiled at me. Apart from getting all hot and bothered imagining him naked, what was it about him that had snagged my interest? The mere fact that he was interested in me? But why was he? Sure, I looked after myself, but no one would ever call me handsome. I certainly wasn’t anywhere near as special as his attention implied.
Maybe he wasn’t an actor after all. Perhaps instinct was warning me that he was one of those freeloaders who were the bane of gallery openings? They never bought anything, but scanned the What’s On, scoring free booze and food and sometimes picking up lonely men or women. They were usually more sophisticated than this guy though. Graham had picked him as being from the bush and, now I was closer, I suspected he was correct. His skin had that bronzed ruggedness that came from too much time spent in the harsh Australian outback and not a tanning salon. Just my type.
