Give The Devil His Due (12 page)

Back at the house a couple of minutes later, I wasn't surprised to find Neil in the lounge. It was a bit much to expect him to stay in the bathroom for half an hour while the whole sorry state of affairs was sorted out at the minimart. I was expecting him to look all sweaty and ill but instead he looked excited and glowing. Maybe my mother had slipped him a compact of blusher while she was doing my make up. I told him about the very annoying series of events.

       ‘I can't believe your neighbours are like that Will.’

       ‘They aren't, I'm pretty sure it's just ‘The Tail’ who's like it Neil. Trouble is – I can't prove it's him. Watch him when we're at the party, and guaranteed he'll make you feel sick.’

       ‘Talking of which, don't you think we'd better get going?’ He was right, it was nearly 7.25 p.m. I packed all the tubs into two large, heavy duty plastic shopping bags and walked to the front door.

       ‘You'll have to sit in the chair before I hang these on the back otherwise it'll lift the front of the chair up.’ The weight of everything was making the veins in my arms stand out. The patient got into the chair. I attached the bags; we departed. Across the street we went. The party was in full swing. Nearing Tegan's front door I could hear
We are the Champions
by Queen booming through the woodwork. It was combined with the dulcet tones of a few ‘karaoke chancers’. From what I could make out, it would be fair to say that none of them had the X factor, but all of them had the shit factor. As I knocked the door with a liberal amount of force to make sure our entry request would register with the revellers inside and not go unnoticed, the music changed. It was now
I want to break free
emanating from the magic portal. I looked at Neil. He looked like he wanted to break free from the wheelchair. I told him to stay put until we'd made our grand entrance. Suddenly Sesame opened and Rupert stood there grinning at us. ‘You made it then matron.’

       ‘Yeah only just. Where's Tegan?’

       ‘Don't you mean Cleopatra?’

       ‘I don't know, do I?’

       ‘Yep, she's in the kitchen with Goldilocks and Superman. Do you know where it is?’

       Do I know where it is? I might be dressed as a staff nurse and not a matron (as he'd already been informed by Knobsworth earlier this evening) but that in no way was any measure of my true worth. He obviously didn't realise he was speaking to the head chef for the night. I also had possession of Tegan's spare set of house keys. This usurper needed to know his place in the order of things round here.

       ‘Why? Has she moved it Rupert?’

       ‘Er, no I don't think so.’

       ‘Good, I think we'll find it then.’ I wheeled the patient through the house towards the kitchen to complete our grand entrance.

       ‘That was a bit heavy Will. He was only trying to be friendly.’ On reflection, Neil was probably right. I needed to chill. Things would get better once I'd had a sherbet and got the barbecue going. As we entered the kitchen, I could see the back of Goldilocks and Cleo. ‘The Tail’ dressed as Superman was standing slightly left of her, manoeuvring his hand around Cleo’s back. It was like a worm, tentatively feeling its way through the soil. He was trying to grope her arse, the evil cad. She pushed his hand away in an aggressive manner. I knew it wouldn't be long before the worm would try his luck again. Suddenly Cleo was conscious of our presence.

       She spun round and asked me, ‘Is that you Will?’

       ‘It is I'm afraid!’ She moved close, putting her arms around me and gave me a kiss on the lips. I felt great. I looked at Superman. He was seething.

       ‘Didn't think you were going to make it guy, when I saw you going up the street with the
Five-O
.’

      
I bet you didn't
I thought. Only then did I notice it. Now that Tegan had moved away from Dave, I could see the full extent of his Superman costume. It was glaringly obvious to all and sundry that he’d decided to make a few cosmetic changes. He hadn't adopted the Clark Kent hairstyle. Instead he'd stayed with his lank ‘Tail’.

       Sadly that wasn't the only difference between him and Metropolis's favourite superhero. It was just a guess – but an educated one that, judging by the shape, Dave had shoved the largest potato he could've possibly acquired into his red satin Superman pants! Neil coughed. It was his way of signalling me that he'd spotted it too.

       I had to comment. ‘That's a great costume Dave.’

       ‘It kinda suits me, don't you think?’

       ‘Yeah, though for some reason I thought you were coming as King Edward.’ Tegan pinched me and gave me one of her knowing looks. I could see she was trying not to laugh.

       ‘No, I did toy with the idea of Darth Vader but settled on Superman. We’ve got more in common – if you catch my drift.’ My King Edward joke had gone straight over the top of Superman's head.

       With all the excitement of Dave's costume I'd forgotten my manners. ‘Sorry Tegan, this is Neil, my patient!’

       ‘And this is Denise.’ Tegan patted Goldilocks on the back. She was a beauty; I looked at Neil. He smiled.

       ‘Nurse, can I get out of the chair now?’ Neil whimpered.

       ‘Yes, as long as you wait for me to get these bags off first, and don't forget to keep taking your medicine.’

       Tegan suddenly raised her hand to her mouth and said, ‘God, we've been standing here all this time and I haven't even offered you a drink. Not much of a hostess am I?’

       ‘Nonsense, you’re great. Why don't I get the coals fired-up? It's going to be a little while before they’re ready to cook on.’

       ‘Good idea. What’s your poison?’

       ‘Surprise me!’ I went out the back and left Neil talking to Goldy and SuperKing while Tegan dealt with the drinks.

       Outside there was an assortment of individuals mingling. Some of them I recognised, some not. I was glad to see that a number of the attendees had gone for standard fancy dress like cowboys and Indians as opposed to upmarket hired TV- and film-costumes like Rupert and SuperKing. It made me feel like our nurse and patient combo wasn't being looked upon as the poor relation in the party.

       Making a beeline for the barbecue I was accosted by Mark Antony, at least someone purporting to be. He had the right-looking laurel leaves but unfortunately his toga didn't seem to be quite the correct colour. It had a pinky sort of hue.

       ‘You must be Will.’ What was this – the Roman secret police? Surely I wasn't going to be interrogated twice in one night.

       Time for a guarded answer ‘Must I?’

       ‘Yes, I'm John, Tegan's brother.’ We shook hands. He had a firm and friendly shake. ‘Tegan's told me a lot about you.’

       ‘Oh dear, that sounds ominous,’ I said, worried.

       ‘Not at all. She hasn't got a bad word to say.’

       I decided to change the subject. ‘That's a nice-colour toga you've got there.’

       ‘Blame Tegan. The only white sheet in the house and she washed it with a red sock!’

       ‘At least your mother didn't dress you up as a drag queen.’

       ‘No, I can do that for myself.’ Shit, was he telling me he was gay? Me and my big mouth. ‘Tegan said you were going to do a barbecue. Is there any way I can be of assistance?’

       ‘For the moment no, but that's not to say that I won't need some help a little later on. If you do, you'll have to tie that toga back a bit or you could change from Mark Antony to Mark Fireball.’

       ‘No problem. As soon as you need me, give me a shout.’

       With the inferno started, a few of the guests soon warmed to the prospect of a hunter-gatherer's fire. The music indoors had changed. It was now The Village People's
YMCA
. I resisted asking John if he'd got this CD in his collection. An anorexic-looking Humpty Dumpty was trying to show a girl dressed as a French waiter, complete with drawn-on curly moustache, the moves to the song.

       Tegan appeared with a couple of cocktails. She handed me one and then put her arm around my back. I responded, putting my free arm around her. She didn't give me the aggressive brush off. John gave me a wink. I smiled, I couldn't help myself.

       ‘Ah you two have met then,’ she said.

       ‘Yes, John's offered himself up as my young apprentice!’

       ‘Makes a change from the usual then John?’

       ‘The usual?’ I wondered what the usual was.

       ‘Yes, where John works, he's executive chef.’ Suddenly, it felt like my efforts were going to taste like crap. Tegan sensed my apprehension of John's inevitable critique.

       ‘Don't fret Will. I'm sure the food's going to be lovely. John's more of a kitchen chef than a barbecue chef.’ She was back pedalling.

       ‘I don't do much of the real thing anymore. Nowadays it's mainly safety in the workplace, keeping an eye on hygiene and maximising staff productivity.’ I knew he was lying and could probably juggle eggs with one hand while he was chopping an onion at supersonic speed with the other.

       ‘Why didn't you let John cater? He'd do a much better job than me.’

       ‘No time. He only arrived an hour ago, and I'm always eating things he's made. Besides, I wanted to taste your cooking and find out how handy you really are.’ She still had her arm round me. After all the initial evening trauma, I was finally starting to loosen up. At that moment Tegan decided to bring up my brush with the law ‘What happened to you earlier on? Dave said he saw the police taking you up the street.’

       ‘Oh that! Let me get a few down my neck first and then I'll be able to talk about it.’

       She smiled. ‘You don't have to tell us if you don't want to.’

       ‘No, I can, but if I keep on thinking about it I'll probably end up kicking Superman in the lunchbox.’

       ‘Why?’

       ‘Mmm, I can't be one hundred per cent sure, but it’s highly probable that he’s the informant who called the store up the road to report one of their trolleys stolen. The bloody copper that turned up was going to arrest me.

       ‘How awful. He's gone down in my estimation.’

       ‘As I said, I can't be absolutely certain, so don't hang him yet. I'm just lucky that if it hadn't been for the store manager, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, because I'd be in a police cell.’

       Guff! That reminded me, I'd asked Derek to the party without checking with her first. ‘I meant to OK it with you, but haven't had the chance. I've invited the store manager along as a way of thanking him. It’s not a problem is it?’ I said meekly.

       ‘Of course it's not.’ She smiled.

       ‘Thanks, he's a really nice guy. You'll like him.’ I gave her a squeeze. She pulled me a bit closer. ‘Where's Neil?’

       ‘He's still in there, making small talk with Denise.’ I looked over at the window. Due to the large gathering inside, they were just about visible. Tegan’s kitchen seemed to be where everyone was congregating. That’d soon change once the scoff went on the barbie.

       The coals were white, it was time to start cooking. John helped me quickly set up the patio heater. Upon ignition, outside became the place to be. Within minutes ribs, sausages and steaks were sizzling away. The merrymakers started appearing and soon the patio was packed. The party was a great success. My grub went down a storm. I'd even been told by John that if I ever wanted a change of career, there was a job going in his kitchen – as washer-up. Cheeky bastard!

       Neil really enjoyed himself and got very friendly with Denise. He also enjoyed the interaction with normal everyday people, something he'd missed when he'd been homeless and treated as an outcast. Tegan and I had taken our relationship to a higher level. I didn't stay the night, although she did ask. We arranged that she’d have me round for dinner Tuesday night when there would just be the two of us.

       By the time Neil and I stumbled home, completely arseholed and exercising some role reversal – I sat in the wheelchair while he pushed – it had gone 5 a.m. I slept for most of the day only getting up to use the toilet and let the dog out. We still had hangovers at six in the evening. Neil took the chair and nurse's uniform back to my mother’s. I was feeling too ill to do much more than sit on the sofa and drink Eno’s antacid with ice.

Monday 3 p.m. South Wales
It was a big day for Neil. I decided to let him get on with it. I couldn't hold his hand forever. In any case he had bags more confidence compared to the previous week. It was about 3 o'clock in the afternoon when I saw him. He'd had his badge granted just after 10 a.m. and had started work shortly after. Listening to him talk to the other drivers on the rank you'd have sworn he'd been doing this job for the last twenty years, not half a day. I was happy for him though. He was definitely the old Neil. That evening, it was my misfortune to have a blow-by-blow account of all the fares he'd done. I hoped every night wasn't going to be like this; I'd go insane.

Tuesday 11 a.m. South Wales

A normal day, nothing unusual to report. I’d spent most of it at the railway station rank, talking to Aubrey Rowlands between jobs.

       Aubrey was totally merciless in the hunt for fares. It didn’t matter what sort of a day you were having, Aubrey was always having a better one. Aubrey had a system. He would tell me, ‘Will if you’re going to make any money at this game, do yourself a favour son; look out for the Nevs.’

       The Nevs or Chambos (pronounced Chaym-bose) as in Neville Chamberlain, were punters that came out of the railway station entrance looking for a taxi; in their hands, a piece of paper.

       ‘If you see a Chambo, it’s your licence to print money. That piece of paper usually has an address on it, which nine times out of ten means they don’t know how to get where they’re going. They’re not from round here. So take them the scenic route!’