EPISODE EIGHTY-SEVEN
Simon Felt uncomfortable in his father’s presence and regressed, moodily
slouched against the kitchen cupboard, sucking the tip of his thumb. Thomas, being that much younger, held no
grudges and found comfort leaning against his father’s chair.
‘Yup!’ Ronnie said, a paternal arm draped around his young son’s
shoulders. ‘It sure is a lotta water
under the bridge.’
Mary stared at him coldly, hating him for intruding into her new life. ‘You even sound like an American,’ she said,
deliberately needling him.
Dave threw her a warning look.
Ronnie’s amiable expression froze, and his eyes flickered. But it was only for an instant, like a small
wisp of cloud masking the sun, and the easy-going manner of his performance
returned smoothly. He cast his eyes
round the kitchen, like an estate agent making an inventory. They finally came to rest on Dave.
‘What is it you do, sport?’
Dave hesitated briefly before replying.
‘I’m a comedian.’
‘No kidding.’
‘Well, quite a lot of kidding, actually.’
Dave hadn’t intended this as a put-down, but Ronnie took it that way. ‘Successful?’ he asked pointedly.
‘I get by.’
Ronnie looked critically at the state of the kitchen. ‘Must be tough.’
Unthinkingly, Mary rushed to her lover’s defence. ‘Dave’s got lots of work coming up at Blackpool
soon.’
Ronnie’s eyes narrowed, and his smile was far from friendly. ‘How long you away for, sport?’
Dave glanced at Mary, knowing how vulnerable she was feeling. Ronnie stared at him, waiting for an
answer. ‘A couple of months,’ he
mumbled.
‘That can’t be much fun for your partner.
Or are you two married now?’
Mary shook her head. ‘We’re all going up
to Blackpool.’
Ronnie frowned, and feigned a puzzled expression. ‘What about the kid’s school?’
Mary spoke quickly, trying to cover her nervousness. ‘During the school holidays, I mean. And I can probably keep them out of school
one extra week.’
Ronnie knew he’d found a weakness and pursued his advantage. ‘When are you leaving, Dave?’
‘Next week.’
Mary could have kicked herself for being so stupid, for telling Ronnie about Blackpool. Her mind raced, trying to think of something
to repair the damage. ‘And next week’s
half term. So we’ll definitely be going
up then.’
Ronnie grinned confidently. ‘But you’ll
have to come back soon after. They can’t
miss out on school. And all that time
you’ll be stuck here on your lonesome.’
His words were heavily loaded and Mary felt a crawling fear and her mouth was
dry. ‘I...I’ve got Simon and Thomas to
keep me company.’
‘Sure. But if you get sick of baby talk,
just let me know.’
Dave frowned. ‘How long you over here
for?’
‘Long enough to make peace with my ex wife and get to know my kids.’
Simon took his thumb out of his mouth and spat out, ‘I don’t talk like a baby.’
Ronnie laughed cruelly. ‘No, but you sure as hell suck your thumb, kid.’
*
As he neared their flat, Pran decided not to tell Alan about walking out of his
job. He knew it was cowardly, but just
couldn’t face it. Anything was better
than having to deal with his partner’s self-righteousness. That sanctimonious expression of disbelief
that Pran hated, the precursor of a heated argument.
Motorhead’s “Ace of Spades” assaulted him as he opened the flat door. It immediately set his teeth on edge. He entered the living room and, finding Alan
sprawled along the sofa with his eyes closed, immediately crossed to the CD
player and ejected the disc. Alan opened
his eyes and glared at Pran.
‘Hey! I was listening to that.’
‘It was getting on my nerves.’
‘Everything gets on your nerves these days.’
Pran slumped into an easy chair. ‘You
know I can’t stand metal. Fascist white
music.’
Alan sneered. ‘A typical racist
generalisation.’
Pran’s head slumped forwards miserably, depression showing in his
shoulders. ‘It’s just that it
grates. That music makes me uptight.’
‘Don’t direct your anger at me, Pran.
Leave your work problems where they belong. At work.’
‘Who said anything about problems at work?’
Alan laughed humourlessly. ‘Oh come
on! Don’t pull that one on me. Every day you come home in a bad mood. And you’re taking it out on me. I have to put up with this shit because you
won’t confront your colleagues at work.’
Pran wanted to tell his partner that he had
confronted his boss, and look where that had got him. He was now out of a job. He felt angry. How could Alan not see that he was in a
no-win situation.
‘And you know why you won’t confront them,’ Alan went on, throwing his legs off
the sofa and sitting up. ‘Cos you’re a
fuckin’ wimp!’
Pran stood up. ‘Right! That’s it!’
‘Where are you going?’
‘Out!’
Pran stormed out of the room. Alan shouted after him:
‘That’s it! Run off to the pub and come
home pissed, so you still don’t have to face anything.’
The flat door slammed. Alan rubbed his
fingers hard against his forehead.
‘Shit!’ he said. He went over to
the stereo, but decided against putting Motorhead on again. It would probably set his nerves on edge,
though it was not something he would ever admit to Pran.
*
Ronnie glanced at his watch. ‘I have to
hit the road.’ He threw Simon a look. ‘Unless you kids wanna take a ride with
the old man?’
Simon shook his head, avoiding eye contact with his father.
‘It’s a real cool car, kid. A Chevrolet
Corvette.’
‘Cor! Can we, Mum?’ said Thomas.
Mary shook her head. There was panic in
her voice. ‘I don’t think that’s a good
idea.’
Ronnie stood up abruptly. ‘Maybe another
time.’ He smiled at Dave. ‘I don’t wanna
make waves. I come in peace.’
Rising, Dave said, ‘I’m pleased to hear it.
There’s just one thing, Ronnie - ’
‘What’s that?’
‘Mary showed me the letter you wrote, in which you said you loved her till
death – which you underlined.’
Ronnie walked to the door, turned and grinned at Mary. ‘Didn’t mean to worry you, babe. But, don’t forget, we got married in a
church, and we took the vows.’
Mary sniffed disparagingly. ‘You were never religious, Ronnie.’
Ronnie shrugged. ‘Even so. Well, I must be away. Be seeing you. Have fun in Blackpool,
Dave. So long, kids.’
Simon ignored his father, staring down at the floor. Mary, Dave and Thomas saw Ronnie to the front
door. The ex husband jerked his
shoulders audaciously.
‘He’ll come round.’
‘Not Simon,’ said Mary forcefully. ‘He’s
got a long memory.’
Ronnie shrugged it off with his catchphrase, ‘Even so.’ Then, without looking back, he hurried across
the road, climbed into his Corvette, and drove off in high decibel style.
‘Cool!’ Thomas said.
‘Yeah,’ mused Dave. ‘You can’t hire cars
like that. I wonder where he got it
from?’
Mary gave his hand a comforting squeeze.
‘Thank you for mentioning the letter.’
‘Well, I couldn’t let that one go.’
They returned to the kitchen to find Simon slumped over the table,
sobbing. Mary cuddled him.
‘It’s all right, darling. He’s gone
now.’
‘I hate him!’ Simon cried.
IN EPISODE EIGHTY-EIGHT
Nigel upsets the cast of his fiancée’s amateur dramatic production