Dickie Williams

The meal turned out better than I had ever dared to hope. We took our time eating and ranged our conversation over many different topics. It became clear that Dickie was a highly intelligent and clever man. So much talent in one individual.

“Your impromptu concert was great,” I said.

Dickie smiled a little cunningly. “Nothing impromptu about it at all. Everything was planned and choreographed to the second, even that encore.”

“But -,” I said wondering how the concert could have been planned and look so natural.

“The club marketing department’s been working on it for a few weeks. Organising the tapes for me to sing along to, even arranging for the police to stand by for the crowd to leave half an hour after the final whistle. Took a lot of organising.”

“Clever.”

“Believe me it was.”

“But what if you had gone to all that trouble then lost the game ? It wouldn’t have been the same.”

“We took a gamble.”

I made some coffee and we relaxed away from the dining table.

“You must let me wash up,” Richard suggested.

“It can wait.”

“OK, but I insist bon helping later on.”

“Leave it until the morning.”

Richard smiled wide and his eyes twinkled. “That sounds good to me.”

I had never before been with a man, never had gay sex and to this day maintain I never have. What Richard and I experienced together was not sex it was love. Love of then purest, deepest and most wonderful kind.

We lay naked together on crisp new sheets I had bought specially. Our warm bodies contoured and nestled together the perfect way destiny had planned since the start of time. Although we were both virgins there was no uncertainty or fumbling about, now clumsy movement or awkwardness, just sheer poetry of perfect blending. Everything was just to right.

Afterwards we lay in one another’s arms and whispered out conversation.

“Why Richard, when you could have anyone did you chose me ? I mean a guy like you could have someone like David Beckham if you wanted.”

“I think Victoria would have something to say about that.”

“Do you know the Beckhams ?”

“Yes, a bit. I’ve been to a party at their home.”

“What are they like ?”

“Very kind but very quiet. David is not much of a conversationalist.”

“Do you know any other famous people ?”

“A few.”

“Who ?”

“Cliff Richard.”

“My grandmother listens to his music,” I giggled.

“He’s a bit like a father to me,” Dickie started to explain. “My own father passed away when I was a child.”

“So did mine.”

“I got to know him when I covered one of his songs and since then I’ve used more of his material. I’ve got to know him quite well and he’s been very good to me. I can talk to him.”

“Really ?”

“Of course his name isn’t Cliff Richard at all, his real name is Harry Webb.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“I call him Cliff though. I chatted a while back with him about my sexuality and he was so supportive and understanding.”

“That’s good.”

“He’s not gay himself even though he’s never married but he does understand me. I phoned him yesterday and we talked for a couple of hours.”

“What about ?”

“You.”

“Me ?”

“Yes.”

“What did you say ?”

“I told him I thought I had found the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.”

“Is that true ?”

“That I told him or that I want always to be with you ?”

“With you. That is if you want the same.”

I did ! I did ! I did !

That second time our making love was even more special than the first, now we were consummating a vow which would see us grow old together.

It was then so easy to forget who Dickie Williams was, to forget everything other than his being my dearest lover and my closest possible friend. God, how I loved him.

As the early spring daylight began to filter through the curtains and into the bedroom I looked at my lover, at his long wavy blond hair, his muscular chest and shoulders and at the slight golden stubble on his face. I pecked a kiss on his cheek and he smiled before opening his eyes.

“Good morning lover.”

“Good morning lover,” I replied. “Ready for breakfast ?”

“Let me cook it for you please.”

“But I’ll need to pop out and pick up a few things from the corner shop, eggs, bread and we’re almost out of milk.”

“I’ll go.”

He was out of bed and dressing. “Which way is the shop ?“

I told him.

A warm sensation swept over me as I though of old Mrs Patel having Dickie Williams dropping a wire basket of groceries on her counter and asking if she took MasterCard. She and her husband I knew were both great City fans and she would have palpitations at the sight of her customer.

“I got a razor and some soapy stuff,” Richard said when he got back. Do these clothes look alright ? I mean I wore them yesterday.”

“They look great. How was Mrs Patel ?”

“She gave me a kiss. Nice old girl.”

“Did she ! I am jealous !”

I wanted to show my new boyfriend off and wished I had gone with him to the shop. While he was busy in the kitchen I knew exactly who I would show him off to later in the day and made a quick phone call.

My big sister Annie and I had always been close, as a kid she always looked out for me and then as I grew up she was the one who guided me through some quite difficult times. My father had died when I was still fairly small and Annie as older sister had taken on some of the paternal support he would have given me had he been there. We agreed to meet up later in the day.

Dickie and I drove to a local park and picnic area. He stayed in the car while I went first to meet and chat with Annie.

“So you are finally out,” she smiled when I told her I was gay. “As if I hadn’t known for years.”

“But I now have a boyfriend,” I explained. “I want you to meet him.”

“Great. What’s his name ?”

“Richard. He’s waiting in the car. Come and say hello to him.”

But Richard wasn’t waiting in the car. I knew I would have to explain the Porsche to Annie so had parked it a way off, Richard had left the car and walked to sit at one of the picnic tables. He had a baseball hat on his head and his back to us.

As we approached I said, “Annie this is Richard.”

“Hi there Rich………. SHIT !”

I had never before heard my sister swear but the shock of Richard being Dickie Williams overtook her.

Richard stood up and politely offered his hand. “I don’t usually have that effect on ladies,” he smiled.

“But -,” Annie stammered. “Are you two ? I mean is …. ?”

“Yes,” I said proudly. “Yes.”

Annie had coped well with my admitting I way gay, was pleased that I had a boyfriend but could not believe who it was. I tried to explain everything that had happened over the last week all the way from the car crash to our first night together.

“It’s all been a bit whirlwind,” I said.

“I really care for your brother,” Richard added. “Time does not matter when you are in love.”

Annie threw a few questions at us and we tried our best to answer them all. Away to our right a group of three lads were kicking a football to one another. A missed kick from one sent it bouncing in our direction. Dickie got up, trapped the ball with his foot, flicked it up into the air bounced it on his knee then headed it back to the boys.

“Wow,” I heard one of them say. Then all three stood still as they saw who it was who had returned their ball.

“Can I have your autograph please,” another said.

“Of course you can,” Dickie said jogging to them, “but first you have to give me a game.”

The boys could not believe what was happening to them as Dickie kicked about joining in their game while Annie and I sat talking. I was so, so happy.

On leaving Annie and three lads who would have a story to tell their mates they would never believe we drove to the other side of the city where Dickie introduced me to his mother. She was lovely and I felt so comfortable in her company. She knew that Dickie preferred men and was so happy he had found someone he wanted to be with.

“Does that mean you will be moving out Dear ?”

Dickie looked at me and I knew exactly what he was thinking. I looked back saying: I would just love it so much if you wanted to move in with me. And then all was decided. We loaded the Porsche up with as much as we could cram in and my home became our home.

Those next few days were truly, truly wonderful – quite out of this world. Each morning a car would arrive to take Dickie off to his work: training, meetings and everything associated with being a full-time superstar. I would get into the Porsche and head off to the store. The drudgery of every day work lightened knowing he would be home waiting for me in the evening. And how fantastic those evenings were. During the time we were apart our minds constantly thought of the other and built up a special adrenalin for when we were together again. Not since Romeo and Juliet have two people been so much in love.

Everything, yes everything, was so, so perfect. That was until early on the Thursday morning. I was only half awake when I heard the snap of the letter box in the hall, the postman was early. I glanced bleary-eyed at the alarm clock on Dickie’s side of the bed. It was early – very early ! A long, loud and shrill ring on the door bell fully aroused me from the last pretences of sleep. Again it called demanding and urgent.

Putting on a white bath robe I headed for the door picking up the newspaper from where it had fallen face down on the floor. We didn’t have a newspaper delivered and if we did neither of us would have selected this particular tabloid.

The ringing of the door bell stopped me from looking at the paper, instead I folded in along its length and held it in my left hand as I flipped the latch with my right. Who could it be outside ? I was met with a million flashes and the deafening sound of motorised cameras winding film and shuttering their lenses.

What ……………….. ?

I slammed the door shut and tried to think. What ever was going on ? The press must have found out Dickie’s new address but why would the world’s paparazzi be camped outside ? What was the story ? What were they after ? And then I saw the front page of that newspaper.

DICKIE WILLAM’S SECRET GAY LOVER
So ran the headline.

“Dickie !” I screamed racing into the bedroom. “Dickie wake up !” I thrust the paper at him. “Look at that. There are hundreds of reporters outside.”

Dickie looked at the paper and then to me. “Sorry,” he said. “I knew the story would break but didn’t expect it to be like this. I am so sorry.”

I snatched the paper and flicked through the six page feature exposing our love to the world. Not only was the paper telling the story but it was doing it ion a sordid and dirty way, making something so pure and lovely into a grubby, dirty tale. There were pictures of us together, one of us kissing. There was an interview with that taxi driver who had taken us home from our first date at the gay club, however had they found him ? There was a note from Sven-Goran Eriksson saying that players’ sexuality made no difference to their inclusion in the England Squad. Our entire private life was set out for every grubby news stand in the land to vend during the day.

“What are we going to do ?” I Asked frightened and worried.

Dickie was already on the phone.

“Get dressed,” he said as soon as he had finished. “Paul’s on his way over, he’ll know how to handle this.”

“Who’s Paul ?”

“My agent. He’ll know what to do. Trust him.”

Paul did know what to do. He was brilliant. He arrived with a mini-‘bus load of police and spoke to the growing crowd of journalists and curious bystanders through a megaphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen Dickie and Nigel will shortly appear and you can take all the photographs you want. They will NOT answer any questions at this time but if you submit to me anything you wish to answer you will receive full and frank answers by the end of the day. Nigel and Dickie have nothing to hide and are not ashamed of their love for one another. You can write any stories you like based on the answers they will give you but print one lie, state one false fact and we will sue you through every court in the land ! I trust I make myself clear on that point.”

He was clever and handled that baying pack of paparazzi with a skill beyond measure. The ordeal of having my photograph taken was not nearly as bad as I had imagined, to tell you the truth I quite enjoyed it – after all I had earlier wanted people to know about Dickie and I, now everyone would know ! Paul gave the journalists an e-mail address to which they could submit questions and assured them they would receive answers by the end of the day. The police then cleared the area and it was all over.

“What now ?” I asked.

“You go to work as normal,” Paul said. ”I’ve arranged for a body guard to be here and go with you. Dickie, I’ll come with you and we’ll answer the e-mails.”

It was as easy as that.

The store was definitely busier that day than normal with everyone hoping to catch a glimpse of the guy who was shagging Dickie Williams. The staff were good and tried to hide their curiosity, pretending I was the same guy they had been to work with the day but that wasn’t at all easy. I could see their smiles and read so much from their eyes. But it gave me a warm feeling inside. I loved Dickie so much and I didn’t care who knew it.

“Is there anything I can do to help ?” The store’s general manager asked. “You are a valued member of my team and I’ll support you all I can. I don’t want to lose you and besides listen to the rattle of the tills, you are the best advertising campaign we could have ever had !”

“Could I have the day off on Saturday ? I’d like to go to the game and watch Dickie play, I think he’s going to need me there.”

I travelled to the game with Dickie in the team coach. The other players were tremendous and made me feel very welcome. Clearly Dickie was a loved member of the team and if I was his boyfriend then they wanted to get to know me. These were faces I knew only from the television and from newspapers but there they were nattering away ten to the dozen with me and making jokes as would any group of guys on a bus. But this wasn’t any normal bus load of people – we were on our way to a premier league fixture with the team pushing for the top position in the table and with a cup run now giving a place in the semi-final. Only the manager was a bit stand offish,

“Don’t worry about him,” one player tried to explain. “He’s always like this on the way to a game. If we win he is king of the party on the way back.”

“Yeah,” said another. “And when we lose he’s like Attila The Hun !”

“I don’t like him,” Dickie whispered. “And he doesn’t like me. He rules this team like a Stalinist dictator. Sven runs the national team like a loving, kind but very firm father. I can work much better with him. Both get the results which I suppose is all that matters but I like Sven’s way best.”

The ground was packed and I took my place in the midst of the capacity crowd. Dickie had wanted me to watch from the directors’ box but I didn’t want to be with millionaire owners and the like. I wore a baseball cap pulled well down over my face and raised the collar on my jacket, I doubted anyone would recognise me. Nobody did. But the talk among the supporters round me was all of Dickie.

“Who’d have thought he was queer ?”

“Don’t matter to me which way he takes it providing he scores the goals.”

“Wonder what the other players think being naked in the bath with him after.”

When the teams ran out onto the pitch the crowd cheered but I sensed a slightly chilled atmosphere towards Dickie.

Things started badly and Dickie was not in control of his game. “Come on Dickie,” I shouted inside my own head.

The crowd shouted something quite different. “Oh dear – oh dear – Dickie Williams is a queer !”

I wanted to scream that he wasn’t queer – our love was natural. I’d have fought every one of them in defence of my boyfriend.

“Oh dear – oh dear – Dickie Williams is a queer !”

How fickle, these were the very same supporters who were elevating to the rank of a god just seven days earlier.

“Oh dear – oh dear – Dickie Williams is a queer !”

Dickie just could not get things together and it appeared to me that this affected the while team. At half time they were two nil down and an air of gloom surrounded the City supporters.