Give The Devil His Due (6 page)

       ‘Shit.’ Phil actually having to visit an office – things must be bad. ‘I'll speak to Peach. Shall I tell him we've both got work on?’

       ‘Nah, you go up an’ have a few beers. We can always do the group thing in a couple of weeks or so.’

       ‘If you're sure?’

       ‘Yeah definitely. Have you seen the new neighbour yet?’

       ‘I met her briefly the other evening when I took the dog out.’

       ‘What's she like then?’

       ‘Oh, she seems friendly enough.' It was time to keep my cards close to my chest.

       ‘That sounds very guarded. Do I feel a wager coming on?’

       ‘I don't know. Do you?’

       ‘Could be, could be. After this project thing's over, I think a visit
chez
Will could be on the agenda!’

       ‘You're supposed to wait till you're invited, y'know.’

       ‘If I wait for that, I could wait a very long time.’

       ‘That's what I had in mind.’

       ‘Sounds like it's not just Dave who's staking a claim!‘

       'I'm going now Phil. Speak to you tomorrow if you're lucky!’

       ‘Yeah,
ciao
.’

       It was a pain that Phil had been called in to do extra work when we'd planned to have a good weekend away, but he was right, there would be others.

       I phoned Peach with the bad news. He took it well and said the same as Phil: he’d make sure there’d be others. By now I had started to think about Tegan again. Maybe I'd see her before I went to London. Only time would tell.

Thursday 7.50 a.m. South Wales
It was earlyish, about eight to be not very exact, when I went out to the car to get my mobile phone. I'd accidentally left it in the cab overnight. If I didn't charge it up for half an hour before I went to work, I ran the risk of breaking down somewhere without the means to ring someone for help. Tegan was coming out of her front door, beaming from ear to ear. I decided to engage her in conversation.

       ‘Hello Tegan.’ My eloquence astounded me. I could tell she was nonplussed, but she managed to hide it well.

       ‘Do you actually live there?’ She pointed at my house, ‘Or do you only visit once a week?’

       ‘No, I do reside there most of the time,’ I replied.

       ‘Well, whenever I'm around here, I seem to see everyone else that lives in the street except you. I thought you might be trying to avoid me or something.’

       ‘No definitely not. In fact, quite the opposite.’ Oh dear, that was a bit full-on. She probably thinks I want to have sex with her right this minute. Why did I say that? If there was any avoiding to be done she'd be the one trying to do it after my last comment.

       She smiled. Perhaps she was just yanking my chain. I bet she already had a bloke and they were engaged or something and she did this chat-up stuff for a bit of amusement when the boyfriend wasn't in the vicinity.

       ‘Listen, as I’ve only just moved in, I was thinking of having a house warming this weekend. What do you think?’

      
Bollocks
is what I thought. I'll be in London and Dave'll be like a pig in shit.

       ‘I'm ...’

       Just then, right on cue, like a bad smell that wouldn't go away, Dave appeared from nowhere. ‘That sounds like a fantastic idea!’ Dave cooed.

       I looked at Tegan. Her facial expression wasn’t giving me any clue as to what she was thinking. I had to make sure she was put off. ‘Well the trouble is I've got to go to London to see a friend of mine and don't really want to let him down if I can help it.’

       ‘Don't worry about it,
guy
. I can introduce Tegan to everyone who’s anyone and we'll save a bit of cake for when you get back.’

       Dave was loving this. I could sense that by lunchtime he'd have all the invites printed and delivered. By nightfall he'd have confirmed the numbers and baked the sausage rolls. And come morning there'd be bunting hanging in the street.

       He was trying to get me out of the way, so he could have his wicked way. Tegan was being painted into a corner, and Dave was the arsehole holding the brush. Although she'd given me a knowing look in the park when Dave's name came up, I wasn't one hundred per cent sure how she felt.

       I certainly knew how Dave felt. Who's to say he wasn't going to ply her with alcohol at the party and then roger her senseless. Worst case scenario: he might have the biggest bond in the marketplace! By the time I got back from London, Tegan would be so smitten she'd be cohabiting with Dave and I’d be a distant memory, fading fast. Time to regroup and attempt to stop this insanity.

       ‘Well, I really would love to come, Tegan. I know it sounds cheeky but if you could do it next weekend as opposed to this, I'd definitely be able to make it and then it would be a proper house warming.’

       ‘Yes, that does sound like a good idea.’ She smiled.

       Dave gave me a death-ray glance; better get some duck tape for that letterbox on the way home tonight if the look was anything to go by.

       ‘There is another solution!’ Dave piped-up.

       I thought
Where's he going with this?

       ‘Oh, what's that then?’ Tegan inquired.

       I wished she hadn't asked him that. I suddenly had an acute sense of foreboding, some serious underhand bond-dealing was about to rear its ugly head, no doubt.

       Dave grinned. ‘Maybe, while Will's away this weekend, we could have a sort of dry run, so to speak, just a little warm up before the main event. You know, an ice-breaker. It would mean that next week you'd feel fully at home and could really let your hair down.’

       I had to hand it to him, he was persistent. The man had a neck thicker than my waist.

       ‘No, Will's right, Dave. I'm not having two parties two weekends running. It's a lot of work, clearing up after a party. We'll have
The Do
next weekend instead.’ The tone of her voice was emphatic. And by the look on Dave’s face, he sensed it. I wished I'd had a camera on me. If ever there was a face that looked like a smacked arse, that face was Dave's. ‘I have to go now, I'm late for work.’ The conversation was over. She jumped into her car and drove off.

       Smirking at Dave, I wanted to say – see you at the party ‘guy’, but thought better of it. For the moment, victory was mine.

       General Dave retreated back to barracks, obviously to check the army field manual. I didn't know what to expect next from him in this prolonged and arduous campaign. Would he parachute in behind enemy lines? Or would it be a full frontal assault? Only time would tell.

       I came home late enough from work not to run into either Tegan or Dave. I didn't want to go through the whole party debate again. I'm sure she didn't either. Dave, on the other hand, would probably go over it till he was blue in the face, if he thought he could make the party happen without me in attendance. It was better to keep a low profile. If she saw Dave as a squabbling child, I certainly didn't want her to view me as his adversarial counterpart. That night I feasted on sausage, egg and chips. The diet was going well!

Chapter 5

Friday 9.15 a.m. South Wales
I'd already got most of my stuff together for going away the night before. There were only a few minor bits and pieces to do prior to leaving. I hoped to God that Peachy wasn't going to turn round and tell me the trip was off because I was really looking forward to it. The phone call came round about 9.30 a.m.

       ‘Will, it's me.’

       ‘Is it all systems go then Peach?’

       ‘It certainly is. I'll be done by 2.30 so anytime after that's fine. You can come before if you like, but you'll have to amuse yourself if you do, because I definitely won't be finished any earlier.’

       ‘No, 2.30's fine. I haven't even bought my ticket yet.’

       ‘Coach or train?’

       ‘Coach. There's a good deal on at the moment.’

       ‘Right, well once you've sorted the ticket out and you know what time it gets into Victoria, give me a bell and I'll make sure I'm there to meet you.’

       ‘No probs. Are you going to take me on a magical mystery tour then?’

       ‘You never know, you never know!’

       Peach hung up. I was now into full-on going-away-mode. I took the dog straight round to mum's house and headed immediately into town to get the coach ticket. A little while later I phoned Peachy with the news.

       ‘It gets in quarter to four Peach.’

       ‘Great. Travel light because we're on public transport.’

       ‘OK.’ I had no intention of taking everything but the kitchen sink, but if he wasn't picking me up by car, I'd take two small bags instead of one big one. We could share the load.

***

I only just made the coach. One of my cab-driving buddies was late picking me up. I told him if I missed it he'd have to chase it to the next stop and get me on there. He drove like a lunatic and we arrived with about 2 minutes to spare.

       As I boarded the coach there was a little sign sitting below the rear view mirror. It said
Express Coaches Welcome You – Your driver today is BARRY

       The ‘Barry’ bit was handwritten in black marker-pen on the wipeable plastic signboard. I could see just underneath it had said
Eric
, but that had been wiped out. I wondered what had happened to Eric. I hoped he hadn't been wiped out too.

       The coach pulled away at 2.15 prompt. It was packed. Friday was always a busy day for travel. People like me, going away for the weekend; students returning home, the elderly on excursions and so on. I found my seat and took it. The seat next to mine was already taken. The occupant must have been in her late seventies, and was knitting.
This is going to be fun
I thought. Three and a half hours of ‘
During the war, things weren't like they are today
... etc.’

       Across the aisle from us was a mother-son combo, she of the daytime-TV-type and he of the whingeing-brat type. The mother's name was Natasha and the brat’s name, Alvin. I mean, who would call their child Alvin? (apart from ‘Tasha’ – obviously.)

       He was much more of a Darren or a Wayne. We hadn't gone a couple of miles and Alvin was already pushing my button. He wanted to sit by the window and wouldn't shut up about it. He had resorted to threatening Tasha with physical violence.

       ‘I want the window, I want the window. If I don't get it I’m gonna kick you.’

       Tasha gave in to him. He had to first get out of his seat and on to the aisle. Then she had to get up out of her seat and manoeuvre her elephantine bulk into the aisle for Alvin to be able to access the window seat. With indefatigable Barry at the wheel, determined to arrive on time, the coach, thanks to ‘iffy’ suspension bounced haphazardly along at over 70 mph. As I watched, it was apparent that a very unstable mass was at liberty.

       Tasha lost her balance. Tasha's rump was in my face. Alvin was now picking his nose, newly installed in his window seat. Tasha sat down.

       The knitter looked at me as if to say ‘You enjoyed that, didn't you!’.

       I looked back at her with an expression that replied
You’re out of your mind old crone, isn't it time for your medication?

       We'd got another couple of miles down the road and Alvin's whining started up again. ‘I want the Nintendo, give me the Nintendo.’

       The old crone leaned over to me and whispered, ‘If he was mine I'd slap him silly!’

       I thought
It's a bloody shame he's not yours
. But then again if he was hers, he'd have been sat next to her and I'd have been next to Tasha. So perhaps it wasn't a shame. That said, it was difficult not to be next to Tasha wherever you were sat.

       Alvin continued to whinge, until Tasha finally gave in. The downside of this was that the Nintendo happened to be in the overhead locker. Once again the bulk moved. Bedlam ensued while Barry continued to bounce the coach along, oblivious. With no intention of slowing down, he had a schedule to keep, and boy, was he going to keep it!

       Tasha stumbled once more but managed to recover her stance just in time to save me from another arse-face collision. The knitter leaned over to me and whispered, ‘Never mind, better luck next time!’

       The Nintendo kept Alvin quiet for a little while. Tasha at least had had the foresight to invest in a set of headphones. The journey became a little easier to bear.

       The old crone had moved from knitting to Harold Robbins. ‘I read all his books you know. I was a bit of a man-eater in my time. If I was thirty years younger you'd be frightened of me.’

       I thought
Never mind thirty years, you’re scaring me now!
It turned out her name was Enid and she wasn't really that scary. We got talking and not once during the journey did she mention the war. She was on her way to meet her son, a prison officer in HMP Wandsworth. I said I could think of a young offender close-by that needed locking up.

       Alvin now wanted to go to the toilet. The toilet was at the back of the coach and down a small flight of stairs. From previous experience of travelling on these coaches I knew there wasn't enough room in there to swing a cat.

       Alvin wanted assistance. Tasha would have to give it. We could hear the kerfuffle going on. Barry and his schedule weren't going to make it easy for them and the mind boggled with what was going on back there. A few minutes later they both emerged, Tasha looking like she was ready to throttle Alvin, and Alvin with the front of his trousers dripping wet. He must have really struggled to hit the target. They sat back down; Alvin was a little quieter from then on.

       In years gone by, the coaches used to have videos playing and a hostess that would serve drinks and sandwiches. Those little extras had long since disappeared. It was probably a cost-cutting exercise. The world was now run by accountants.