Amanda's Wedding (15 page)

‘What on earth is going on with your friend? Is she on heat?'

‘I think so.'

‘Is she serious?'

‘Serious? Well, if I were Johnny, I'd take out some life insurance.'

‘Eaten alive?'

‘Sucked clean.'

‘Woo.' There was a pause.

‘Oh, I remember what I came for,' I said.

Angus looked at me quizzically.

‘The bridegroom? That whole wedding thing? Horseshoes and stuff? You remember!'

‘Oh yes. I'm being a terrible host. Let me –' and he bowed and proffered me his arm – ‘escort you to his lairdship's table.'

‘You are too kind.'

Fraser was sitting on a large leather banquette in the corner, surrounded by some rather technical-looking young men, whom I assumed were fellow engineers. They all looked rather doleful, and not as if they were having a primeval bonding experience at all.

‘Hey,' I said, still on Angus's arm.

Fraser looked up and grinned.

‘Hey, yourself. Glad you could come.'

‘Me too. Is it going to get you into trouble?'

‘Och, Fraser's always in trouble – aren't you, lad?'
said Angus, and the whole table burst out laughing. Fraser smiled ruefully.

‘Of course not. Everyone is sworn to secrecy.'

There was a chorus of, ‘Yeah, right!' and ‘How much are you going to pay us?'

‘Did you bring that terrifying friend of yours?'

‘Yes. She's over there, being terrifying.'

Fraser looked over.

‘Oh my God, poor wee Johnny. You haven't set her loose on him?'

‘Nothing to do with me, I'm afraid. Apparently she's being a lioness tonight.'

Angus and he swapped a look.

‘I was at primary school with Johnny. Haven't seen him much since then, but he qualified as oldest pal when I was looking for a best man. God, I hope she doesn't get her claws into him …'

In the corner, Fran was quaffing another martini, with one hand on Johnny's lapel. He was laboriously trying to explain something to her – oxbow lakes, probably, but I could tell she wasn't listening, just throwing her head back with raucous laughter.

‘He's been married eight years and his wife never lets him out of the house. He only got to come here because I promised there wouldn't be any strippers.'

‘Fraser, just how many lies did you have to tell to get this party together tonight?'

‘I don't even want to think about it. Who's for another?'

‘Way hey!' shouted the boys at the table, and bumped up to make room for me.

They turned out not to be doleful at all, just serious about deconstructing the
X-Files
, e e cummings, politics, stand-up comedy and the general state of the world today, at least in so far as it related to the world of engineering and
Dr Who
. Strangely, I found them fascinating and non-judgemental company; infinitely relaxing. Of course, not having to buy any drinks helped.

Every so often there would be a loud grunt or guffaw, as Alex and Charlie seemed to have descended to the level of bestial communications. But just as I was thinking how very, very fond of Fraser's friends I was, there was a muttering at the door. In walked a woman in a large coat, out of which was peeping a pair of open-toed stilettoes and fishnet tights.

All relevant political and cultural debate instantly went flying out the window. I suddenly had a lot less room on the bench as the testosterone level rose and the boys suddenly needed plenty of space to splay their legs wide open.

Behind the stripper was an enormous man who managed to make finding a plug point for the tape recorder seem imposing. Immediately, ‘Hey, Big Spender' started up. Without removing her cigarette, the woman walked nonchalantly to the centre of the room and, showing no perceivable interest, slipped out of her coat.

The previously well-mannered and charming boys beside me turned into a host of baying beasts. The roaring was incredible, punctuated with wolf howls as the woman did a desultory shimmer to ‘Spend … a little time with me.'

Eventually, she started to walk towards our table. An excited ‘Way hey!' went up as she bent over to have her bra strap undone, with the bloke she approached only just able to restrain himself – after a sharp look from the bouncer – from pinging it. The bra went whirling through the air and landed near a surprised Fran and Johnny, who were snogging like they'd just invented it over in the corner.

The bra got a big round of applause, but all eyes quickly came back round to the main attraction. The boys' eyes were wide as saucers as the woman stifled a yawn, shot me a dirty look (I thought), and stuck her leg up on the table to undo her suspenders.

I stifled a yawn myself, and looked over to where I'd last left Charlie and Alex, muttering like two old alkies at a railway station. Alex was tottering uneasily to his feet, being egged on by Charlie. As I watched, hypnotized, ignoring the mounting hysteria behind me, Alex picked up the gold lamé-trimmed bra and put it on over his shirt, dancing along to Shirley Bassey. He approached Fran and Johnny, making lewder and lewder movements, while Charlie shouted encouragement. Finally, when all eyes had gone past her, the stripper turned round to see Alex rubbing her costume like a towel between his legs.

‘'Ere!' she shouted, which was enough for the bouncer to stop looking menacing and do some actual bouncing.

He walked over to Alex and put his hand on his shoulder. Incredibly drunk, Alex leered up at him
uncomprehendingly. Charlie, however, was back on his feet again.

‘Leave him alone!' he shouted petulantly.

The bouncer gave Charlie his best ominous look.

‘Yeah?'

‘Yeah! Or you can just … fuck off!'

There was an ominous silence, except for the inaudible noise of me attempting to disappear. Oh my God, he'd done it again. And I had brought him.

Very deliberately, the bouncer retrieved the bra from Alex's limp hand and laid it on the table. Then slowly, almost tenderly, he led both the boys outside. Nobody moved as some cartoon scuffle noises reached us from the other side of the door. After about three minutes the bouncer came back in, actually dusting his hands down.

‘You coming, Leese?' he said.

Leese was already dressed – in her own terms. She stood in front of Angus while he paid her, then the pair left in a dignified silence.

I closed my eyes in horror. Nobody said anything. Then finally a lone Glaswegian voice from the back said plaintively:

‘Well, I thought the bloke was a better dancer, ken.'

I opened half an eye. Fraser turned round, but there was a glint in his eye.

‘You mean I brought a stripper to my stag night for a crowd of fucking poofs?'

The whole room guffawed with relieved tension, and new rounds were ordered in. I went up to Angus.

‘Oh God, I'm so sorry. I mean … oh, they're just … I'm sorry.'

‘I know what you mean,' he said kindly. ‘Why don't you tell me all about it?'

‘I will, I need to go see if Alex is OK.'

‘Why? He deserved it.'

‘No he didn't! It was just a prank.'

‘Not to her it wasn't.'

‘Oh well, you know what boys are like.'

‘Huh. Not all of them.'

I could feel him watching me as I headed out the door. Fran and Johnny were now looking distinctly biological, and I averted my eyes.

Outside, everything was quiet. I couldn't see the boys anywhere, or even hear any muffled groaning. I pondered the situation for nearly half a second, heard a burst of boyish laughter from upstairs and decided to head back to where the warmth and beer were.

Inside, everyone's faces were looking redder. Fran and Johnny were nowhere to be seen, but the lads were presenting Fraser with a blonde blow-up doll, which happened to look extremely like Amanda.

Blushing, he stood up as Angus sidled alongside me and pressed a bottle of beer into my hand, which I swigged gratefully.

‘I wanted to say …' Fraser started manfully.

‘Get yer tits oot!' shouted the Glaswegian wag.

‘Shut up, Nash.'

I turned round to see who Nash was.
Gosh, he doesn't sound black
, I found myself thinking, then immediately felt like the stupidest person in the world.

‘I just wanted to say,' continued Fraser ‘that it's good to see so many of you here.'

‘Apart fae yer best man!' someone shouted, and there was a burst of obscene laughter.

‘Yes, well, apart from – ahem – Mr McLachlan, who seems to be otherwise disposed.'

‘Aye, up the bits of some tart.'

‘Hey!' I said to Angus. ‘That's my friend they're talking about.'

‘What, not your friend that was behaving completely like a tart?'

‘Huh. Well, maybe.'

‘OK, calm down …' Fraser looked slightly unsteady. ‘I just wanted to thank you all for coming, and I know some of you came down a long way. Getting married is a frightening thing, although not as frightening as seeing you shower all in the same room at the one time.'

There was a friendly muttering.

‘No, really. It's great to see you all. I'd like to thank my brother for getting everything organized, Mr Flaherty for the loan of his pub, and … well, just the whole big bunch of you lads.'

‘And girls!' I squeaked.

‘And honorary lads,' said Fraser, bowing in my direction. I grinned.

‘So, get some drink down you. Oh, and sorry about the stripper …' he petered out.

‘To Fraser!' shouted Angus.

‘To Fraser!' said the company. I think I was the only one who noticed that he'd missed out the bride from the toast.

‘To the stripper!' shouted someone else.

‘To the dirty bint that's taken Johnny up the close!'

‘What?' I asked Angus. ‘Is that rude?'

‘Never mind.'

We wandered back over to Fraser's table and rejoined the company.

The evening wore on – the landlord was an old drinking buddy of the McConnalds' father, and wasn't too bothered about licensing restrictions. I lapsed into lovely drunk time, where things just floated past, and I jumped in and out of different conversations at will. After dissecting the genius of Billy Connolly on one side, I tuned in like a radio to the other, where Angus and one of the Scottish boys were deep in serious conversation.

‘Just talk to him,' Angus was saying.

‘Look, I only met her once. She seemed all right.'

‘She's not all right. She's a complete cow and she'll make his life hell. This is why I got you all down here – to persuade him not to do it.'

‘What are you two talking about?' I exclaimed brightly.

‘Nothing,' said Angus shortly, turning back to his pint.

‘Have you met this “Amanda” that Frase is marrying?' asked the other chap.

‘Course I have. I've known her all my life.'

Angus looked up at me.

‘What's she like then?' the bloke asked.

I paused, not quite sure what to say. Idiotically, I suddenly felt quite loyal. It was all right for me and Fran to talk about Amanda having her gizzards ripped out by vultures, but with anyone else it wasn't really on.

‘Well, she's … really pretty, and dead rich. She's nice.'

‘Fair enough,' said the bloke to Angus. ‘I'm not saying anything. You should never get involved in these things. My sister married this right bastard and she wouldn't be told anything.'

‘What happened?' I asked.

‘Oh, yeah, he turned out to be a right bastard. Left her with the kids and everything.'

‘Oh, for God's sake, Mel!' burst out Angus. ‘She's a complete bitch and you know it.'

I sighed.

‘Sorry, forgive me if I'm being slow here, but you talk about her non-stop. I mean, why do you hate her so much? And Alex, and Charlie – well, it's OK to hate Charlie … But, I mean, when I met you, I thought you were really awful, 'cause you hated us all so much. But now I know you're not, you're actually really nice, so I don't understand it at all. Are you a secret communist? Do you hate posh people? You're posh anyway. Well, your brother's a complete nob … I didn't mean that last bit the way it sounded.'

‘Have you finished?' asked Angus.

I thought for a second. ‘Ehm … yes.'

He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands.

‘Look,' he said, ‘if I tell you something, do you promise on your life that you won't tell Fraser?'

The third bloke was still with us, unwilling to draw attention to himself by getting up and moving away, but embarrassed to be listening to something personal. He was staring very hard at the ashtray.