Falling snow was visible through the windows of the university auditorium as Janice did one last check as the audience filtered into the graduation ceremony. A frisson of excitement ran around the room as the gossip spread that the husband of Sir Leo Johns – global rock star, cultural icon, wearer of glasses visible from space – was being awarded an honorary degree for his work improving healthcare for gay men, and Sir Leo was going to accompany him.
Janice was excited about seeing him in the flesh. His songs had been the soundtrack to countless first dances, road trips and kitchen discos since the seventies, and she was a huge fan. Her gran was an even bigger fan; she would have loved to have seen Sir Leo in concert, but the prices were way out of reach for an ex-nurse on an NHS pension.
Almost pushing aside the Principal, the SU President and other dignitaries, Sir Leo swept in with a flamboyant flap of his long purple cape, as the audience nudged each other and tried to unobtrusively take photos. He took his seat next to Eric in the front row and bathed in the admiration and warmth that he accepted as his due as a national treasure.
Eric was presented with his honorary degree and said a few words about how humbled he was to receive this award and that he wouldn’t be this great without the love of his incredible husband. After the applause faded, Sir Leo slipped out whilst the graduands lined up for their award presentations (the attention would be off him for far too long), mouthing, ‘Going to the loo,’ to Eric.
Janice suddenly thought this could be her opportunity to get an autograph for her gran. Seizing her clipboard, she quietly made her way out of the back of the auditorium and waited outside the men’s toilets. She looked at her watch, what on earth was he doing in there? He didn’t still take drugs, did he?? Surely not, the seventies were a long time ago. She knocked on the door, ‘Sir Leo?’ No answer so she stuck her head in, only to see a completely empty gents. Where had he gone? She checked the corridor behind the loos and finally found him wandering near the fire exit, looking bewildered.
‘Are you all right?’ she asked.
Sir Leo sighed. ‘Don’t worry, I’m still standing.’
Janice laughed. ‘Come on, I’ll show you the way back.’
She led him along the corridor towards the auditorium before a thought leapt into her mind. An awful thought. But glorious. She couldn’t. Could she?
She absolutely could not. Or…?
‘They’re just finishing up the ceremony,’ she said. ‘I said I’d escort you to the car so you didn’t have to go back in.’
Used to minions doing everything for him, Sir Leo followed along meekly, complaining about the cold and pulling his cape around him. Five minutes later, he was in the back of Janice’s Skoda as she drove out of the staff car park like she was auditioning for Top Gear, almost taking out a campus map sign as she skidded on the icy road.
‘Where’s Eric? What’s happening?’
‘Let me see your phone,’ said Janice, ‘I’ll call him.’
Sir Leo handed over his phone and Janice shoved it into the glove compartment.
‘What are you doing? Am I being kidnapped? HELP!!’ Sir Leo began banging on the windows, trying to open the doors, and screaming at the top of his very impressive vocal range which had hardly lessened with age.
Used to dealing with toddlers, Janice turned on the radio and waited it out. She felt bad. Just how wrong was this? She considered pulling over. But she didn’t.
Finally, Sir Leo slumped in his seat and fell silent.
‘Thank you. Now look. My granny is your biggest fan. Ever. She’s not been well and this might be her last Christmas. She’s always wanted to see you in concert, but your tickets are ridiculously expensive. Like insane. I don’t know who can actually afford to go, why don’t you think of normal people? Honestly, so selfish. Anyway,’ Janice shut up, realising this wasn’t going to help her request. ‘I want you to play your Christmas song for her. We’re having a family party tonight and it would make her Christmas, if not her life, if you show up.’
‘You know Eric can track my phone? He’ll be following us right now. You’ll be in so much trouble.’
‘They were doing photos after the ceremony, and everyone will want a selfie. I reckon we’re about twenty minutes ahead of them. If we’re quick, and if you don’t dawdle, you’ll be home before anyone’s even started panicking. My gran was a nurse for 40 years and would do anything to help others.’ Janice moved into suck up mode. ‘You have your own charity, you know what it’s like to show compassion to others. Just one song. Don’t go breaking my heart. Please.’
Sir Leo folded his arms.
‘I don’t even like that song,’ he muttered. ‘I wrote it in about ten minutes.’
‘It’s still better than anything I’ve ever done in ten minutes,’ said Janice.
He paused, then shook his head. ‘Oh, sod it. It’s a little bit funny…’
‘This feeling inside,’ finished off Janice, assuming that meant he was in.
Her granny opened the door herself. Small. Welcoming. Wrapped in a sparkly cardigan that had clearly lived a full and meaningful life. Her mouth fell open and she looked at Janice in astonishment. ‘Enid, Sir Leo. Sir Leo, Enid. No time to explain.’
Janice hustled them both inside where the rest of the family were playing a spirited game of Trivial Pursuit, plates of sausage rolls and Scotch eggs balanced on their laps. The fire blazed and fairy lights twinkled. Sir Leo looked at the sitting room which hadn’t been decorated since he’d had his first number one and something inside shifted. He felt a tingling behind his eyes and a lump in his throat. He could have been back in his childhood home.
He accepted a glass of extremely cheap fizz. He ate a homemade mince pie. He remarked politely that it was very good pastry. Then he sat at the piano.
‘This is for you, Enid,’ he said. ‘Welcome to my Christmas song.’
He played the opening notes of his most famous Christmas hit with great exuberance. The family froze. Then exploded. They danced. They laughed. Someone cried. Enid was twirled like a sequinned tiny dancer. Even Sir Leo looked faintly astonished, as if he’d forgotten the effect he had on people.
‘Thank you, my darling,’ whispered Enid to Janice, holding her closer in a tight hug. ‘How on earth did you persuade Sir Leo to come to our party?’
‘Oh, it was no problem,’ said Janice, as Sir Leo finished his song and the family all called for another.
He played a few more songs, before Eric arrived, anxious then confused as he took in the sight of Sir Leo playing for a roomful of strangers dressed in some very questionable Christmas jumpers.
Outside, faint but unmistakable and getting ever louder, came the festive jingle of police sirens.
Sir Leo paused. Slowly, deliberately, he stood. He smoothed his cape and turned to the room. He placed a hand on the piano as though claiming it, tilted his head, and surveyed the family over the rim of his enormous glasses.
‘Merry fucking Christmas.’
BARBED WORDS 