Got on a lucky one
Came in eighteen to one
I've got a feeling
This year's for me and you
So happy Christmas
I love you baby!
I can see a better time
When all our dreams come true.
In 1989, Remus actually went to Oxford Street to do his Christmas shopping, on Grant’s insistence.
“You’ve never been?!” He had gasped, eyes wide, “You haven’t seen the lights?!”
“I didn’t think proper Londoners got involved in all that nonsense.” Remus replied, defensively.
“ Proper Londoners leave the house.” Grant said. “And buy presents for their friends.”
“I don’t have any friends.” Remus said - then felt awful. Because of course, he had Grant.
“What about that Mary bird? Sends you letters all the time.”
“Oh yeah. I could get her something, maybe.”
“That’s the spirit, Ebenezer.”
Remus shrugged off the teasing, because he knew Grant loved Christmas - or any opportunity to celebrate, really - and Grant had had a very difficult year.
Having worked so hard to gain his school leaving certificate, pushing every step of the way to get A-Levels and various other qualifications, all so that he could have his dream job, which was helping other people, Grant had finally come up against an insurmountable opponent. The government - more specifically, The Local Government Act.
In 1988, Section 28 passed, and Grant was no longer secure in his position at work. Remus hadn’t really understood it at first, or at least, couldn’t see why Grant should have to worry.
“You don’t work for the council, though,” he frowned, flicking through the leaflets Grant and his friends had been printing for awareness-raising.
“Yes I do,” Grant replied, “Local authority includes schools and Borstals - and that's what it’s really about. They don’t want us perverting kids.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Remus said.
“I know.”
Remus re-read the text.
A local authority shall not intentionally promote homosexuality or publish material with the intention of promoting homosexuality, or promote the teaching in any maintained school of the acceptability of homosexuality as a pretended family relationship.
“Pretended?!” Remus shook his head.
“I know.” Grant sighed.
“What does this mean, though? ‘Promote’ homosexuality? How do you promote it?”
“Well that’s where the cunts have been clever, innit.” Grant huffed, “It don’t mean anything, not really. Just means if anyone wants to argue against it the fucking Tories can accuse them of wanting to ‘promote’ queerness or some bollocks.”
“But that’s…”
“Completely mental? Evil? Immoral. Yeah. My mate Gay Bob, he’s already had to shut down the Gay Youths Support group, only started that last year. And my place ain’t exempt, the governor's already asking for a list of books we carry, check none of them are too queer.”
“But they can’t… they wouldn’t sack you?”
“I don’t know, love. I’m already trying to keep my head down over the AIDs thing.”
