“We’ve not gotten any sleep at all!” Monty called over, with his erratic eye now even more erratic than usual. It did that when he was tired or drunk, so with the present combination of the two factors joined together, the wonky eye was currently spinning like the reels on a slot machine.
“Jessie, what are they on about…?” asked Frank, but Jessie only told him, with a wink, that he’d soon see.
Dave returned to the task at hand, pulling out an electrical extension cord and shouting for Frank and Stan to come see. And so they did, standing at the edge of the courtyard, waiting to see what Dave and the rest had conjured up. Frank stood with Stan on one side of him and Jessie on the other, an arm around Stan’s shoulder and the other around Jessie’s waist.
The entire crew who’d made it happen were at hand, all stood waiting now on Dave’s next move.
“We’ve been working on this most of the day,” Dave announced.
“Yes, yes, just get on with it!” said Stan, squirming like he was in need of a wee.
“Patience!” Dave called out with a laugh. “It needs a proper introduction!”
Stan whimpered, but protested no more.
“Right,” Dave continued. “So myself, Monty, Guy, and Tyler have been toiling away at this all day while you two were catching up on your sleep. Tyler? Where are you, Tyler?” he called out, inviting him forward. “Ah! There you are. Tyler, you can have the honours if you’d like?”
Tyler looked to his mum, received an approving nod, and placed his hand on the switch. “Ready, Big Dave?” he asked, looking back to Dave for the signal.
“Ready!” shouted Dave.
With the flick of a switch, the courtyard lit up like Santa’s Grotto. And not just the courtyard. Multicoloured bulbs lit up the entire roofline of the farmhouse, surrounded the windows, and even continuing down to the tree next to the barn and lighting it up in addition.
“Good lad! Now the other!” Dave instructed the wee one.
With the flick of a second switch, the tractor Dave, Monty, and Guy so lovingly refurbished, now parked near to the house for the occasion and strewn about with flashing Christmas lights, burst into brilliant illumination as well.
“Bloody hell!” shouted Frank, with eyes the size of two Scotch eggs. “That looks fantastic!”
“We should phone the airport and warn them. Otherwise, we’ll have aircraft landing with all these lights!” joked Stan.
Frank looked on contentedly as the festivities recommenced, watching those he cared most about enjoying themselves. Dave had produced a CD player and put on some music with a proper beat, and it was a joy to watch people dancing around the courtyard of a farm that was weeks away from being demolished. Even Stella was getting in on the act, cutting her finest moves to the music.
“She looks quite happy,” remarked Stan, to which Frank couldn’t disagree. “Here, Dave. Come over here a moment, will you?” Stan called out.
Dave arrived with a waltzing series of steps, producing a most splendid bow at the conclusion. “You rang?”
Stan looked to Frank, then back up to Dave. “So we’ve been speaking earlier, Dave, Frank and myself. We’re going to make up the shortfall. You know, from what the charity missed out on with the TV company not turning up.”
“No need,” Dave replied immediately. “Guy!” he shouted. “Oi! Guy! Come over here if you don’t mind?”
Guy was a smiler by nature, but even he’d surpassed himself the last twenty-hours. His teeth were in danger of drying out, he’d grinned that much.
“Now then. Right,” he said, popping open the beer in his hand. “What a day. I’m so glad I bumped into you couple of lunatics!” he said. “Proper, proper great couple of days.”
“You’re coming back next year?” asked Frank.
“Just try and stop me, boss,” Guy assured him.
“It’s been wonderful to have you, Guy,” Frank told him. “I mean that sincerely. Without your help, this wouldn’t have happened. You’re always welcome here, Guy. You’re part of Team Frank-and-Stan now. You’re one of us!”
“I’m welling up here,” said Guy, dabbing at his eyes in so theatrical a manner it made Stan proud. “You’re a singular bunch of people, you lot. Mad as a box of frogs, mind you. But a right class act, for certain.”
“About the shortfall?” Dave reminded them. “Right. So Guy’s donated his van.”
“What do you mean?” asked Stan.
“Yes, how do you mean?” Frank echoed.
“Just that,” explained Dave. “The beauty he used in that TV show, his tricked-out Ford Transit van, the one he just so happened to bring with him over here, he’s donated it to the charity. Stella’s already got it listed on eBay and we’ve exceeded what we need to make up the shortfall, and the way it’s going it looks like there’s going to be loads left over to put towards the building work as well!”
A plume of smoke arrived three seconds before Stella, who looked particularly pleased with herself. “I’ve just been checking my phone and the auction’s flying,” she informed them, taking a long, solid draw off her ciggie, sucking on it so hard it made Guy wince. “Guy,” she said, turning to him. “For someone so famous, you’re actually all right. And I think you should know.”
“What is it you think I should know?” Guy innocently asked.
“Well I ain’t done telling you yet, am I??” Stella scolded him.
“Sorry,” Guy told her. “Continue?”
I’ve been thinking about this, and now we’ve become friends, I’m thinking of renaming my dildo.”
“Your dildo?” asked a confused Guy.
“Yes, my dildo,” explained Stella. “Currently named Guy Martin.”
“I see,” replied a nonplussed Guy.
“It’s all about respect,” Stella carried on. “So, from now on, Brad Pitt is going to be joined in the bedside drawer by Benedict Cumberbatch. I quite like the new Holmes.”
“Oi!” Jessie objected. “Benedict Cumberbatch’s the name of mine, you can’t use that!”
“I think I’m going to be sick in my mouth, Mum,” Dave told her. “Please tell me you’re joking?” he asked desperately.
“Of course I’m joking,” Jessie told her son. “Mine is called Martin Freeman,” she offered with a playful wink.
“And on that note, I should tell you I’ve thrown you into the auction as well,” Stella informed Guy. “The winner doesn’t just get the van, but they get you for a day also. It should go without saying that they can do whatever they want with you.”
“They can?” asked an increasingly alarmed Guy Martin.
“Yes,” Stella said, as if this should have been painfully obvious. “I’ve had a few questions from those bidding in that regard, and so naturally I said you were willing to do anything.”
“Naturally?” repeated an increasingly apprehensive Guy Martin.
“Naturally,” confirmed a completely-unconcerned Stella.
Guy’s ready smile evaded him for a moment. “I think we may need to review that one, Stella…?” said an increasingly-concerned, actually, Guy Martin.
Stella gripped Guy’s head, thrusting it into her heaving cleavage. “Don’t you worry, Guy. I’m coming with you on the day, and I’ll look after you,” she explained. “You know. To supervise, and such,” she told him, rubbing the back of his neck soothingly. Well, it was soothing to Stella. It likely would have been no comfort to Guy, even if he could hear her. Which he presently couldn’t. Because his head was currently buried in her tits.
“Do we know who actually won the race today?” enquired Frank of anyone. “It’s really terrible of me, I suppose, but I don’t even know. I’ve been so caught up in our own celebrations…”
“The BBC’s team won,” Monty answered him. “And it was great to have ol’ Dod Spence in attendance to hand over the trophy named after him. He was honestly happy to be involved. I was speaking to him afterwards and that bloke is a true gent of the highest order. He definitely epitomis
es what the TT is all about, and that’s for certain.”
“The BBC had a fantastic team, no doubt about that,” remarked Guy, coming up for air. He ran his hands through his hair, casually trying to sort himself out, as if he didn’t just have his entire head buried in Stella’s boom. Even though he did.
“Dave, did you tell them about Napier and Thomas?” Monty added.
“No, I completely forgot!” he said, snapping his fingers. “Right, so we just assumed their early retirement was due to fuel, like us, yeah? Only it wasn’t.”
“It wasn’t?” Stan asked.
“Ohhhh, noooo,” Dave went on. “Get this. They did it on purpose. And Rodney Franks was going absolutely mental about it, I heard!”
“But why would they do it on purpose?” asked Frank.
Dave rubbed his hands gleefully at the thought of Rodney Franks’ vexation. “Okay. So it turns out Napier and Thomas aren’t the complete arseholes we thought they were. They’d gotten wind of the bet, see? And they knew that Rodney would take the TT Farm away from us if they won. Apparently, from what I’m told, Napier had problems earlier in his life, and it was a similar charity that got him through a truly difficult time in his youth. So. When they knew they were going to come out ahead of us on that final lap, they pulled over.”
“They just…?”
“They just bloody pulled over!” Dave repeated. “Those gorgeous lads! They’re currently out of a job, mind you. But, with their talent, those boys will find a new team in next to no time.”
“Holy shit,” said a gobsmacked Stan.
“Holy shit,” said a gobsmacked Frank.
“Holy shit,” said Rebecca, covering Tyler’s ears.
“And that also explains why they didn’t seem in any terrible hurry that leg of the race,” Stan considered. “I wondered why they weren’t going all-out on their sidecar like they should’ve been.
“Hmm,” said Frank, trying to think of a proper tribute to the pair. He rapped the top of his beer can with his ring. “Here’s to Napier and Thomas!” he offered with honest enthusiasm. It was all he could come up with at a moment’s notice.
“Here, here!” came the enthusiastic replies.
“Look, while I’ve got your attention, can I just take a moment of your time?” Frank said to all assembled. “I’m not very good at speeches, so bear with me here. But I just wanted to let you know that I love you all very much, and I’ll remember this weekend for the rest of my life. Stan really gave us quite a fright yesterday, and I know it ended up being only a kidney stone—”
“I thought for certain I was dying!” Stan clarified for the sake of those that didn’t know. “It was scary!”
Frank smiled and continued. “I’m pleased Stan is feeling better, and that, in the end, he managed to pass the uninvited lodger through his todger. But it did make me realise how quickly things can change. We all know that I’m not in the best of health, but it’s being with you and getting involved in all of this…” he said, indicating the farm with a wave of his hand… “That gives me a reason to keep going, and to love every bloody minute of it. For that, I wanted to thank you all for being part of my life. And seeing Stan in hospital yesterday made me realise, more than ever, that life’s about living. There’s no point putting things off for another day if you can do them today. And, so, on that theme…”
Frank patted Dave and Monty both on the shoulder, each in turn, and then pivoted around to face Jessie. He dropped down onto one knee, and he took her hand in his.
“Frank…” Jessie began, but then decided to let Frank finish, as it really looked like he was about to say something he was very keen on saying.
“Jessie, I’ve not known you for years, but you’ve had a wonderful impact on my life. Jessie, you’ve made me smile when I hadn’t smiled for a long time. You made me realise life wasn’t about the things you buy to fill it, it’s about the people you surround yourself with. It’s about being a nice person, and, Jessie, you’re one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. Jessie? I love you. Would you do me the immense honour of being my wife?”
Jessie placed her free hand over her mouth, looking over to Dave, but he was already sobbing. “Oh, bollocks, there goes my bottom lip, Mum,” said Dave. “It’s gone wobbling on me and I can’t stop it!”
“Don’t even try,” Monty told him. “It can’t be done!” he said, his own bottom lip gone wibbly-wobbly. “Just go with it, Dave! Just go with!” he blubbered.
Jessie looked directly into Frank’s waiting eyes. “Frank,” she said, her voice breaking. “Frank, it would be my distinct pleasure to gratefully become your wife.”
“That’s my dad!” Molly announced proudly, handing tissues to Dave and Monty, and keeping one for herself as she needed one as well. “And that’s his new wife!”
“Not yet,” said a beaming Jessie, squeezing Frank’s hand. “But soon enough.”
“We should have a joint wedding,” suggested Stella, taking a swig from her flask she had produced from parts unknown upon her person.
“No drugs!” Frank cautioned her, but then realised what she was on about. “Oh, you meant… of course… sorry. That’s actually a wonderful idea, Stella.”
“Sure and it is,” Lee agreed. “Assuming you’ll have us, Frank, of course. We wouldn’t want to steal your thunder!”
“Oh!” cried Monty. “Oh, I’ve got it!” he announced through the happy tears.
“You’ve got what?” asked Dave, through his own waterworks.
“An idea!” said Monty. “Listen to this!”
“We’re listening,” said Stan. Frank might have said something, but his lips were busy at the moment.
“Okay. If Jessie is getting married to you,” said Monty, pointing to Frank. “Then you pretty much come as a pair, right? Right. So. Here’s my idea. We’ll have to call Jessie, then…”
Monty trailed off, keeping them all in suspense. Well, keeping himself in suspense, mostly. Still…
“Wait for it…” he said, teasing the moment out.
“We’re waiting,” said Frank, snogging now on hold.
“We're waiting,” said Jessie, snogging also on hold.
“We’ll have to call Jessie… we’ll have to call her…”
Stan shifted from one foot to the other.
“We’ll have to call her the Bride of Frank-and-Stan! Do you get it? Everyone? Do you…?”
“We get it, Monty,” Dave answered him, applauding his friend’s big moment. “That’s pretty good, me old son. It really is.”
“It is?” asked Becks, before quickly correcting herself. “I mean, yes, yes it is!”
“Truly it is,” said Lee, encouragingly.
Stella just shrugged and took another slug of liquor from her flask.
Molly was still busy applying a tissue to her eyes.
“I don’t get it,” said Tyler.
“It must be some kind of inside joke,” Guy Martin said, kneeling down to whisper to the wee one. “I don’t get it either.”
Monty accepted the praise, soaking it up. It was a long time coming, he felt. Long overdue, in fact. “Was it as good as the name Isle Le Mans TT, Dave?” he asked. “Only that should have been mine. You know that, right? I should’ve gotten the credit for that. But I’m prepared to let that one go if this one’s just as good?”
Dave patted Monty’s back, then pulled him in for a hug. “Sure, Monty,” he told him. “This is totally better than Isle Le Mans TT,” he said. But at the same time he said this, he was also shaking his head from side to side. And it became clear why he’d pulled Monty in for a hug. It was so he could mouth the words ‘Nowhere near as good’ over Monty’s head, so that anyone in range could see. And which was just what he did.
Frank raised a beer aloft in the air, and cleared his throat. “Here’s to Team Frank-and-Stan! I love each and every one of you!”
If you’ve enjoyed this volume, have a gander at the other books in the Frank ’n’ Stan series! All available on ama
zon.com in both print and Kindle editions.
www.amazon.co.uk/Frank-Stans-Bucket-List-Races/dp/1985302136
www.amazon.co.uk/Frank-Stans-Bucket-List-Races/dp/1719930627
You may also enjoy the Lonely Heart Attack Club series, and Book One of The Seaside Detective Agency, also set in the lovely Isle of Man!
www.amazon.co.uk/Lonely-Heart-Attack-Club/dp/1548766429
www.amazon.co.uk/Lonely-Heart-Attack-Club-Olympics/dp/1976456169
www.amazon.co.uk/Seaside-Detective-Agency-Isle-Mystery/dp/1718680333
You may also wish to check out The Flip of a Coin,
as well as my two books aimed at a younger audience,
Cabbage von Dagel, and Hamish McScabbard!
www.amazon.co.uk/Flip-Coin-J-C-Williams/dp/1537392972
www.amazon.co.uk/Cabbage-Von-Dagel-J-Williams/dp/1535107278
www.amazon.co.uk/Hamish-McScabbard-J-C-Williams/dp/1539424553
And coming soon… Luke ’n’ Conor’s Battle Royale Club!
And for the very adventurous among you, you may wish to give my hardworking editor’s most peculiar book a butcher’s! It needs a good seeing-to! Lavishly illustrated by award-winning artist Tony Millionaire of Maakies and Sock Monkey fame.
www.amazon.co.uk/Get-Some-Sleep-Dave-Scott/dp/1976262496
Frank 'n' Stan's Bucket List #3 Isle 'Le Mans' TT: Featuring Guy Martin Page 33
