“What the fuck is a Dickensian Prophesy?” shouted Elton John from his bath.

“David..DAVID!”

David was in the kitchen mixing Elton’s Ovaltine, studiously ignoring his husbands shrieks.

“David, I’ve read it here in this book thing, what does it mean?”

David couldn’t face trying, once again, to explain something hard to someone so thick. David loved Elton, there was no doubt about that, but it wasn’t because of his intellect. Elton liked to think that he was an intellectual, a philosopher and sage. He said that was why people were drawn to him, the likes of Princess Diana and Gary Barlow for example. What Elton didn’t know was that the people drawn to him on the basis of his mind were invariably even more stupid. David on the other hand was genuinely quite bright and was beginning to feel the need for some mental stimulation.

Bernie Taupin loved Elton too and he was quite clever, but he was just a very nice man,unlike David who could on occasion be an absolute cunt. However, he knew the very kind heart that Elton possessed underneath the bling and the desperation. David took Elton his Ovaltine and a custard cream, something that was a traditional christmas eve treat for him apparently, the fact that they had only just got in after a glitzy night out didn’t mean that Elton was going to forgo it.

“David, what’s the time?”

“It’s 5.19am Elton”

“Are the boys awake yet, has santa been ?”

“Yes santa has been and no, they’re fast asleep. Give me that book, lie back and have a nice soak, there plenty of time.”

“I love christmas”

“I know you do Elton, and so do I”

David looked at Elton with his large white belly and his sequined bath cap and felt at once both affection and frustration.

He left Elton and went to the living room, sat on the chair by the enormous 10 foot Norwegian christmas tree and drink a seasonal tipple, after all, the sun was still over the yard arm given that dawn hadn’t happened yet.

The life he led was domestic and glamorous, nappies and stardust, but it mostly revolved around other people. He could feel the old itch in his feet and he knew his predilection for flight. He had left a lot of men whom never really deserved to be left, and a few who did. David remembered the young blonde in Rome, whose downy stomach was so flat he could balance his wine glass on it. He remembered the gorgeous gypsy man in Sitges, who whispered sweet nothings in his ear as they lay together on the beach. There were more of these sweet and sultry memories, so tempting and he could feel his resolve weaken, his wedding promises start to spin away.

Something moved across the periphery of his vision, David turned to look towards the window and saw a streak of light cross the sky. Upstairs little footsteps padded across their bedroom floor and David heard small muffled voices.

“David, David, the boys are awake, I can hear them” called Elton

“Nappies and stardust indeed” thought David, “nowhere else I would rather be.”