Give The Devil His Due (10 page)

       ‘Are you sure you want to entrust me with the keys to the castle?’ I asked.

       ‘I'm confident I can trust you.’

       I don't know how she worked that one out;
I
didn't even know whether I could trust myself. I made a mental note: must try to resist the temptation of boasting to ‘The Tail’ that I had the keys to Tegan's place!

       The Wig had finished eating and was scratching the back door to come in. I thought
Play it cool Will and leave now
.

       ‘I'd better go Tegan; Neil'll think I'm being funny with him.’

       ‘If you have to, then you have to.’

       We both got up and walked through the house to the hallway.

       ‘Thanks for doing this, Will.’

       She leaned over and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek. It wasn't a peck, it was definitely a kiss. My face became flushed and Little Buddha stirred. I hoped she hadn’t noticed my over-enthusiasm down below.

       The Wig's scratching had turned into maniacal yapping. Tegan glanced back towards the kitchen. ‘I'd better let her in before the neighbours start complaining.’

       ‘If they do, withdraw their invites.’

       She giggled. It was time to go and check on Neil.

       When I arrived back at the house, Neil was still on the phone to Peach. He was laughing at something. I went to the kitchen, fed the dog, grabbed an open bottle of claret, poured two large glasses and then wrote Neil a note:
Fancy a Ruby 2nite?

       Back in the lounge, Neil was still energetically chatting away. I passed him a glass and pushed the note into a prominent position. He scanned it, then started to nod like one of those little plastic dogs you see on the back shelf of cars. Neil finished his conversation and hung up.

       ‘Houston, we don't have a problem!’ I said.

       ‘She's OK about me coming then?’

       ‘She certainly is. And it doesn’t end there. She's planning to line you up with a hot date,
the lovely Denise!
’

       ‘You’re forgetting about my flea bites.’

       ‘They’ll go – given time. Besides, nobody's saying you have to strip off on Saturday and show her your peanut. Anyway, you might not be each other's cup of tea.’

       ‘Yeah, she might be a right burglar's dog!’

       ‘She might think the same about you, you big-headed bastard.’

       ‘Changing the subject Will, Peach said you're a cock for not inviting
him
to the party.’

       ‘Not my party mate. You're only coming because you're on barbecue duty after the first hour. Which reminds me, we'll have to drop the barbie and patio heater over Saturday afternoon.’

       ‘Peach also said that just because you're a cock doesn't mean to say he has to be one. He's invited you, me and Phil down for the weekend after this.’

       My social calendar was filling up nicely. ‘Excellent.’ It’d be interesting to see what the other two made of Trev's place.

       ‘Are you hungry then?’

       ‘Famished.’

       ‘Drink up and let's go.’

       We left the house and walked to the pub for a swift half; it wasn’t long before we were enjoying the delights of the Tandoori Palace. Beer and curry what a fabulous combination!

Chapter 9

Friday 9 a.m. South Wales
Friday came and went. Neil managed to get his medical sorted. The doctor certified his health to be good. We got the paperwork to the licensing office only to find that Alan had already left and would be back on Monday at the earliest. We just had to take it on the chin.

       I tried to lift Neil’s spirits. ‘Let’s focus on the positives. We've got a party to go to.’

       ‘I'm trying to focus on the positives, but I feel financially embarrassed all the time.’

       ‘Look don't worry, after next week that’ll have changed.’

       I lent Neil £150. It would tide him over until he started earning. He seemed a bit happier after that. With all the disruption I hadn't worked much during the week. Once Neil was granted his badge, things would settle down. I’d then be able to pull my finger out and get some Xs in.

       We spent what seemed like most of Friday evening shopping and marinating different meats. Gone were the days I'd make up special sauces. It was much easier just to buy the stuff ready-bottled.

       Tegan had given me some rough numbers to play with. She was expecting around forty to fifty; several people from the street she'd befriended, and a few I’d advised her were worth getting to know. The rest of the list was made up of Tegan's friends including
the lovely Denise
. We retired early that night, conserving our energy for the following day's festivities.

Saturday 1.30 p.m. South Wales
I phoned my mother: ‘Mother, it's
moi
. Have you done what was required of you?’

       ‘Your party props will be here around 4.30 p.m.’

       ‘I do believe you were told lunchtime mother.’

       ‘Well I have my lunch late!’

       ‘Mother, I'm running to a strict timetable here. Anyone who fails to adhere to said timetable is likely to incur my displeasure.’ That was telling her!

       ‘Goodbye William.’

       I came off the phone. Neil sensed the old bat had got the last word in before she hung up.

       ‘Everything going swimmingly is it, Will?’

       ‘Zip it Burnsie, and put the kettle on.’ I was wondering whether to enter panic mode. ‘She's holding out until the last minute; she'd better deliver. You're all right. All you need are pyjamas and a couple of red stained bandages.’

       ‘Don't sweat. You're helping out with the food. Besides, it is, as you said
only
a neighbour's do.’

       He was right, but I wanted to make it look like I'd put in a little bit of effort on the costume front. After a cup of tea I’d calmed down slightly. We watched some sport on TV. I looked out of the front window. Tegan's car wasn't there.

       ‘Fuck it! Let's take all the stuff over.’ I grabbed Tegan's keys and we each took one end of the barbecue, carrying it to the top of the street, then back down the lane that ran behind the houses with odd numbers.

       It was easy to work out which gate was Tegan's. There was a whacking great big number 27 painted on it. I unlocked the gate and we put the barbecue on the patio. As we made our way back up the lane, Neil spotted a shopping trolley someone had left. It belonged to our local minimart.

       Neil had an idea. ‘We could use that to get the rest of the gear over.’

       I congratulated Mr Fairburn on his excellent suggestion. ‘Good call!’

       After commandeering the trolley and taking it to my house, the charcoal was piled in, extremely heavy gas bottle, assorted tubs of marinated meat and some pasta salad Neil had prepared. I grabbed the heater and we trundled off on our second trip to Tegan's.

       Neil had made an observation. ‘The front wheel on this is seriously iffy. It's shakin’ more than Stevens.’ I looked down and the added weight had increased the shaking. It was indeed wobbling at an amazing rate.

       ‘So, what do you expect me to fucking do about it? Go back to the house and get my tool kit?’

       ‘Keep your rug on Will. I was just forewarning you in case the wheel comes off and the bloody thing goes tits-up. I don't want to be held responsible for your spare ribs going all over the street.’

       ‘Just be careful when you go on and off the pavement.’ I said. We took our time and safely managed to transport our precious cargo to Tegan's back garden, stopping on the patio. I unlocked her kitchen door and headed for the fridge; opening it revealed an unwelcome find.

       ‘Arse! It’s full.’ There was no room at the inn.

       Neil had another idea. ‘Let’s just take the meat back to yours and leave it in your fridge till the party starts.’

       We locked her gate and re-trundled up the lane back to my place minus 2-ton gas bottle and charcoal; left Shakin’ Steven’s trolley outside my front door and put all the meat tubs and salad back from whence they came.

       It was now 3.30 p.m. I was sweating like a pig. I grabbed two cold stubbies and handed one to Neil. We had a couple more after that.

***

I checked the clock; it was 4.47 p.m. Time to go and collect our costumes. We walked to my mother's house. She opened the door.

       ‘Hello ma.’

       ‘Hello you two. Gosh, Neil you've changed. You look very grown up.’

       ‘That's hardly surprising is it mother, seeing as the last time you saw him was about fifteen years ago!’ This was true. Fairburn might even have been wearing his school uniform if my memory served me correctly.

       ‘Isn't he rude Neil? There's no need to be like that Will.’

       ‘There's every need to be like that mother.’

       Mumsy suddenly noticed Neil’s eye. ‘Ooh Neil, that looks ever so painful. What have you done to yourself?’

       ‘I fell down a flight of stairs.’

       This was not what he had told Alan. ‘I thought you slipped on a bar of soap?’

       Neil stared at me and grinned. ‘Yeah, it was at the top of the stairs.’

       I’d had enough of this nonsense. ‘Look mother, we are running to a tight schedule, so if you could give us the costumes, we'll be on our way.’

       ‘Follow me then.’ We followed her into the lounge. There, neatly laid out on the sofa, was a pair of pyjamas. They looked as if they could've been made to measure for Fairburn.

       ‘I hope they fit you Neil,’ she simpered.

       ‘I'm sure they'll be perfect Mrs Rees. I really appreciate this. In fact I can't thank you enough.’

       Neil was beginning to irritate me. ‘Do you have to crawl so much Toadburn?’

       ‘He's not crawling. He's just being polite Will.’

       ‘Rubbish. His voice is that muffled 'cause his head's so far up your backside I'm having difficulty understanding what he's saying!’

       ‘Stop it William. You weren‘t brought up to behave like that.’ Evidently I was. I tried to ignore her drivel and turned my attention back to our outfits. Next to the pyjamas on the sofa was a neat assortment of bandages, including a sling – to make it look like Neil had a broken arm. This was good. The icing on the cake though was standing in the middle of the lounge –
a lightweight foldaway wheelchair!

       My mother had instructions for us. ‘That wheelchair is new and mustn't be damaged. Carol's lent it to me on the Q.T. and her supervisor doesn't know about any of this. So I must have it back in the same condition. Promise me you'll look after it William.’

       ‘Yeah, whatever.’ I had to hand it to her. She had delivered ...
big time
.

       ‘Now you've kitted Mr Brown nose-out mother, where's my doctor’s outfit?’

       She pointed. ‘In that bag on the chair over there.’

       I walked over to the chair and picked up the bag. I pulled out the clothes that were inside. Wank!

       ‘There was just one little problem,’ she added. Too bloody right there was. ‘I couldn't get a doctor's coat, so I got you a nurse’s uniform.’

       Maybe this was an opportune moment for me to express my misgivings. ‘I'm not wearing that. Tegan will think I'm a frustrated transvestite.’

       ‘Being a frustrated transvestite is nothing to be ashamed of,’ said Neil.

       ‘Shut it Burnsie. This is no joking matter.’

       I looked at my mother. Her eyes narrowed; the mouth may have been silent, but the face was shouting from the rooftops, ‘Cinderella – you shall go to the ball!’

       As I stared at her I detected the suppression of a slight but triumphant grin. ‘You've done this on purpose ma. You knew I’d be lumbered. That's why you told us to come round so late.’

       ‘I wouldn't do that to you Will.’ She bloody-well would and she had. Neil was doing his best trying not to laugh and failing miserably.

       ‘Look Will, time's ticking. Just try the thing on to see how it looks. Your mother and I promise we won't laugh.’

       ‘What do you mean, you won't laugh? You're laughing now.’

       ‘Yeah, but the novelty will wear off once I see you dressed up.’

       Sod it; this was after all a fancy dress party we were going to. I grabbed the uniform and went into the dining room, put it on and came back out into the hall. I looked into the full-length mirror hanging on the wall. Cruella and Fairburn the Human Slug appeared from the lounge doorway.

       Slugman studied me carefully. ‘It looks OK Will.’

       ‘It doesn't look OK. Apart from the fact I don't want to appear like something out of Rocky Horror, it accentuates my gut.
Jocky Wilson in drag
are four words that spring to mind!’

       ‘That's easily remedied Will. Isn't it Neil?’

       ‘Yes Mrs Rees.’

       Was I going mad? Or were these idiots some sort of sick double act? My mother went upstairs, then came back down carrying her sewing box and an old bra. She put both items on the hall chair. Very quickly she disappeared again, this time into the cloakroom. Seconds later she reappeared clutching a large roll of toilet paper. She opened the sewing box and took out two Joan Collins-type shoulder pads.

       ‘Will, be a good boy and let your dear mother sort you out with a couple of falsies.’

       Why was I letting her do this? I had no idea. Within a couple of minutes, she'd created me a couple of realistic looking boobs. They were a fair old size too! And the gut had gone.

       ‘There's something missing Mrs R.’

       ‘Yes, I know what you mean Neil. Come out to the kitchen Will.’ I followed her like a lamb to the slaughter.

       ‘Sit down there for a moment.’ She made herself scarce only to return with her make-up case.