The romantic and comedic adventures of Wilson and his dishy doctor boyfriend, Edmund, continue. This time, Christmas is fast approaching so not only does the seasonal calendar need to be organized and presents bought, but with the help of the vicar and all the Parish Council, the main Christmas event has to be planned—the unveiling of the new town statue.
Sure, the town may have got over the fact Wilson and the doctor are a couple, but if everything goes right—and it never will—they may not forget this Christmas. Let’s just say, everything possible will be done to stop this Christmas from making the Sydney Gay Mardi Gras look like Mother Teresa’s picnic for good girls. Even so, Christmas this year will certainly be different in Passmore. Can Wilson and Edmund survive the festive season? Can the town? And what surprise does Edmund have in store for Wilson that will turn his world upside down?
Wilson sighed relief. Thank goodness Germaine’s terrible cooking distracted the council from him and from what he had to say. He didn’t care one way or the other about the statue—he had other things on his mind. Wilson could breathe easy again so he retrieved his phone from his pocket and checked his messages. There was one from his Edmund. It simply said, Meet me after the meeting. I have something special for you. Wilson smiled again. He hoped that something special meant some hot, sweet loving, because over the last few weeks they had found it difficult to find the time to be together, let alone share each other’s love on an intimate level. Christmas was the busiest time of the year, and according to the vicar the main event and the reward for all the hard work done before it. That meant little private time. Still, Wilson was determined to see Edmund—even if the calendar conspired against him as much as the folks of the town did.
Germaine ignored the farmer and said, “You just don’t know art. George, I think the statue is just perfect for the town.” Her words brought Wilson back from his thoughts. Realising he was still stuck in a meeting when his man was waiting for him didn’t fill his heart with any joy. More so, considering the whole thing was going round and round in circles. Wilson sighed again, but this time more out of desperation. He contemplated offering an excuse to leave, but in the end decided against it. He didn’t want to let Karl down—besides, if it came down to it he would vote whichever way the vicar did about the statue. Karl would need him to stay.
Farmer Scott snorted. “Yep, you’re right, Germaine.”
She smiled. “You agree with me, Farmer Scott?”
“Sure do. I agree that I don’t know art—but I do know what I like and I don’t like your cooking or that monstrosity George is planning to slap in the middle of the town. We’re the laughing stock of the state as it is. A great big erect cock bursting out of two flaps and with flowers for pubic hair is just going to make things even worse. The Japanese tourists will be taking thousands of photos of the Passmore penis and putting them on that internet thing so everyone in the whole damn world can laugh at us. Do you want that?”
There was a moment of silence. It seemed Farmer Scott’s words had hit a chord. Wilson had hoped things might move along from here…until George spoke.
George looked at them all in turn. “We’ve already wired the final payment to Eru Dumont and he’s agreed to do this for us—I’m afraid the statue stays.”
The vicar said, “But it hasn’t left Sydney yet, has it, George?”
“Not that I am aware of. Why? What’s your point, vicar?”
The vicar winked at Wilson. Did he know Wilson was hanging out to leave so he could swap body fluids with his dishy doctor? “It’s quite simple, then. We ask the sculptor to modify the statue over the next couple of days so it’s not so…phallic. If we must spend the council’s money on a statue, then at least we should get something we all agree on.”