“Oh, please,” replied Pete, with a dismissive wave of the hand. “I’m more carefully manicured than Kew Gardens, let me tell you. No strimmers involved, I can assure you.”
“Ah. Good. Because I made that mistake once myself and the results weren’t pretty,” Jack came back. “A strimmer is definitely not the tool for the job, and I learned my lesson the hard way.”
After Jack and Pete both shared a laugh, Jack looked at Pete expectantly, allowing him to continue with what he was going to say, as Pete had sounded rather serious about it.
“No, I’ve done something without consulting you, Jack,” Pete told him. “And I’m a little concerned that I’ve overstepped the boundaries on this one, actually, and hope you’ll forgive me.”
Jack narrowed his eyes, almost afraid to ask. “Bloody hell, Pete. You’ve not gone and slept with Emma, have you?” he asked. “No, no, that can’t be it, can it? Well, trust me, these last few weeks have been completely shit. So whatever it is you tell me, it couldn’t possibly make matters worse than they already are. So out with it!”
Pete smiled tentatively. “Well, you know how since I met and married Kelvin that my financial situation has improved from where it was previously? Dramatically, in fact?” he said, not really getting to the point.
“Yes…?” said Jack.
“Now, keep in mind, what I’ve done is not entirely selfless,” Pete felt the need to point out. “I mean, what I’ve done will also help our business by bringing people to the Late Bloomers gathering and, by extension, increase business, right? And also, the coffee shop here is always full of club members, so there’s that as well. Soooo, I don’t think I’ve entirely overstepped the mark when I tell you that, well…” Pete went on, still not really getting right to the point.
“Tell me what? Out with it, man!” demanded Jack, though he said this playfully.
“Okay,” said Pete, taking a deep breath. “Right, then. Here it is. Jack, I’ve been to see the owner of the garage you purchased the minibus from,” he told him. “Or tried to purchase, anyway, what with your cheque having bounced and all,” added Pete, as if Jack needed any reminders to that effect. “Anyway,” continued Pete, “I know they were lending the vehicle to you until you could either come up with a payment plan in the very near future, from what I understand, or until such time as another buyer came along, whichever came first. Well, another buyer has come along.”
Jack wasn’t stupid, not entirely at least. But he didn’t want to make the mistake of being presumptuous here, either, as he wasn’t exactly proficient at reading situations. Still, he dared to dream for a moment. “You haven’t,” he said. “Pete, tell me you haven’t?”
Pete nodded in the affirmative, unsure what kind of reaction he’d receive. “We have, yes. Me and Kelvin.”
For several long moments, Jack didn’t speak. He just reached out, took up Pete’s hand, and squeezed it hard. “Thank you, Pete. Thank you,” he said, once he’d regained his voice. “On behalf of myself and Emma and the charity, thank you both. You don’t know what this means to us, truly you don’t.”
“How’s that? Oh, I think you misunderstand,” said Pete, with a perfectly straight poker face. “No, I didn’t mean it was for the charity, dear fellow. No, no, I was simply saying I’d treated Kelvin and myself to a new bus,” Pete told him, peering over at Jack intently with not even the slightest hint of a smile on his face, and patting Jack’s hand, still over on Pete’s side of the table, consolingly.
Jack pulled his hand away in horror, feeling like a complete idiot, his face crimson with embarrassment.
“Of course it’s for the charity, you dunderhead!” Pete quickly added, and then burst out laughing.
“You bastard!” exclaimed Jack, and then started laughing himself, in relief.
“Your face. You should have seen it,” replied a smirking Pete.
“You bastard,” Jack repeated, but softer this time, and looking lovingly across the table as he said it. “Seriously, I don’t know what to say, Pete. It feels like we’ve all been bloody kicked, poked, prodded, and punched for days now. And then something like this restores my faith in humanity and gives me a burst of energy that makes me want to fight on.”
“That’s not all. There’s something else,” said Pete.
But Jack’s phone was vibrating on the table. “Sorry, one tick,” said Jack, picking up the phone and taking a look at it. “Ah. It’s Emma. I better answer it. Sorry,” he said, apologising again. “Do you mind if I tell her about the bus, Pete?” he asked, grinning.
Pete smiled and nodded, indicating he was just fine with Jack sharing the news.
“Hi, honey,” Jack said into the phone. “I’m here with Pete just now, and the children are playing nicely,” he went on, chuckling at his own comedic stylings. “Hmm? Oh, nothing, I was just teasing,” he told her. “I was talking about Ray and Grandad, who’ve met up with some friends,” he said. “What’s that?” said Jack. “I’m not prattling on,” he said, slightly offended. “All I was saying was that… All right, I will shut up,” he told her. “Sorry, what is it? Why’ve you called?” he asked, pressing the phone tight against his ear to drown out any background noise, and in one instant, the blood drained from Jack’s face.
Pete looked on, concerned now, but didn’t dare interrupt.
“You’re not taking the piss?” Jack said into the phone, before listening for a bit more, and then lowering the phone back to the table, ending the call without saying another word.
“You didn’t even say goodbye before hanging up,” observed Pete. “What’s up, Jack? Is everything okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
Jack ran his tongue around his lips to restore the moisture that’d suddenly gone missing there. “I’m not sure how or why or… This is completely and utterly bonkers,” he said, in a daze. “Am I asleep and this is a weird dream? You’ve just given us a bus, and now this…”
Jack began pinching his face, just to prove to himself that he was actually awake and not, in actual fact, fast asleep.
“Jack!” barked Pete, clapping his hands to bring Jack back into the room, so to speak.
Jack started to laugh. “Sorry, Pete. Sorry. Yes, I’m okay. It’s good news, not bad,” he said. “Pete, I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but…” he went on, glancing over to Ray and Grandad, and then back again. “That song. You know that song those two did with Florence…?”
“Florence’s Song,” answered Pete. “Appropriately named. Yes, it’s really very good.”
Jack shook his head in disbelief. “It is, Pete. And it doesn’t look like it’s just us who think that, either,” he said. “As a matter of fact, Emma was calling just now to tell me the single has just hit number one on the iTunes chart!”
Pete’s head nearly slipped off his hands where it’d been resting. “You’re joking?” he asked, but received a shake of the head to the contrary in answer. “Funny enough, but that may be related to the other thing I was just about to tell you, Jack,” Pete added.
“The other thing?” asked Jack. “Oh, yeah. The other thing,” he said, still slightly dazed. “What was the other thing?”
“Well, what I was going to tell you was that Kelvin offered to give the recording to a couple of his friends at BBC Radio,” Pete answered. “I’m guessing he did? And I’m also guessing they must have liked what they heard and given it some airplay?”
“And generating some additional interest as a result, along with a fair few downloads,” said Jack, filling in the blanks.
“Yep, that’s what I was thinking,” replied Pete, nodding along.
“You know, this is turning out to be not too bad a day after all,” remarked Jack. “Number… Bloody… One. How the hell am I supposed to break this news to those two goons over there, and tell them what their bloody efforts have wrought? Number… Bloody… One, Pete! This is completely bonkers!”
“It just goes to show that good things come to good people,” said a
smiling Pete.
.
Chapter Twelve
A n expectant crowd of boisterous and horny women had been waiting impatiently in the airport arrivals hall for the better part of the morning. Each plane landing was accompanied by a renewed wave of energy amongst the awaiting throng as they watched anxiously the arrival hall’s automatic doors open to allow access to the latest stream of passengers to make landfall. Those arriving must have thought the welcome party for their visit to the little island in the middle of the Irish Sea was most impressive. Of course, the welcoming committee wasn’t for these mere mortals. Rather, it was for an as-yet-to-appear certain sexy Latin celebrity who was making his maiden voyage this day to the Isle of Man’s shores. And while those waiting most expectantly knew which day this certain someone was to be arriving, what they didn’t know was precisely what time or on which plane, hence their filling the arrivals hall the entire morning in anticipation.
Presently, a bubbly lady with perhaps a bit too much makeup on and a t-shirt that was, arguably, a little too neat for her generous proportions spotted Jack as he made his way through the main entrance of the airport. She prodded her mate’s arm, and the two of them had their eyes trained in on Jack as he made his way over in their general direction. “That’s him who’s organised the world record, isn’t it?” she said. “Jake or something? I saw him on the TV.”
“Jack,” replied her friend, craning her neck for a better look. “It is as well. And this must mean…”
But they both shut up, using this inside information to ease their way silently through the eager crowd with their selfie stick at the ready, certain that with Jack now on the scene, the object of their affections was soon to follow.
Jack, for his part, took up a position at the rear of the crowd, standing on tiptoe and trying to catch a glimpse of what it was that everyone could possibly be looking at, as the large group of women there were all standing at attention, heads moving this way and that, and all appearing like a gang of meerkats.
“Excuse me,” said Jack, tapping the shoulder of a nearby woman at the back of the mob in front of him. She had a youthful look about her, at least from the rear, based on her hairstyle, but when she turned around her deeply weathered face took Jack by surprise. Mutton dressed as lamb, Jack couldn’t help thinking, and wondered if it was cruel of him to do so. “Sorry, but I just wondered if I could…?” Jack began, hoping to get some clarification as to why everyone was congregated there, but unfortunately the woman seemed to take his intentions rather differently.
“Back the fuck off, you skinny streak of piss!” she barked, looking Jack up and down with contempt. “I’ve been waiting here for three hours, and if you think you’re pushing in, well, sonny, you can kiss my hairy ass!”
Jack stepped back a pace, rather taken aback by her abrasive tone, and equally horrified at the visual she’d just provided, and wondering, as well, why any woman would actually even wish to admit to having a hairy arse in the first place. While the old girl maintained her steely gaze on him, snarling like a hungry dog protecting a sausage, Jack allowed his eyes to venture down to her t-shirt, and it was then that he figured out what was going on, the missing pieces of the puzzle falling into place. “Ah, so you’re all waiting for Ramon Hernandez, then?” asked Jack, holding his hands aloft in an I surrender type of stance in an effort to show that he was not a threat to her.
Jack knew that Ramon Hernandez was big news, and securing his appearance at the world record attempt had been a major coup thanks in the main to Kelvin, who once again, bless his heart, was an unassuming hero. Kelvin had not only used his showbiz contacts to get their charity song to number one, but also to secure one of the biggest names currently in show business as well. But Jack hadn’t quite grasped just exactly how big a draw Ramon actually was, and the scale of the adoring crowd who’d shown up did come as something of a shock to Jack. Sensing how territorial the crowd were, he thought it now prudent to take up a position of safety at the rear of the arrival’s hall, well away from the crowd, where he would wait holding up the little sign he’d made to identify himself to Ramon.
The world record attempt was due to start at three p.m., but the timing for Ramon’s arrival was tight in order to accommodate Ramon’s busy, hectic schedule. Jack had been praying that the flight would be on time, as there was little margin for error to get Ramon settled in once there and ready for the day’s event. Given this, Jack was surprised by how calm he currently was. In the run-up to previous events they’d held, he’d been running around like a bloody headless chicken. But with the assistance this time of Susan and the team at the town council, things were surprisingly, and possibly unnervingly, damned organised. He’d even had time that morning to head to the promenade and help set up their mobile coffee stall. Emma was manning the outlet for the afternoon to provide appropriate refreshment to the caffeine-craving hordes, with their casual staff holding the fort back at their usual bricks & mortar location. With everything so far going to plan, and with Pete and Kelvin’s generous purchase of the bus and Florence’s song getting to number one, Jack Tate was allowing himself a fair amount of cheerful optimism. Of course the ongoing police investigation into Grandad hung over him like a cloud, but he chose to ignore that at present and not let it spoil the day. Even Grandad was refusing to let that bother him, having just purchased a new dinner jacket for the big dance, and he’d appeared in good spirits and excited about the day ahead when Jack had last seen him a bit earlier.
As Jack was daydreaming, a burly security guard in a yellow high-viz jacket had taken up a position next to him, casting a suspicious eye over the buoyant crowd. “Didn’t have you down as a fan,” he said to Jack with a smirk.
“Gary!” replied Jack with a start. “Sorry, didn’t see you there, mate,” he added, offering a warm handshake. “So how are you settling in at the new house?” he asked, by way of conversation.
“Loving it, Jack!” Gary answered. “The neighbours opposite are a bit weird, though, if I’m being completely honest,” Gary added, narrowing his eyes. He glanced about, to make sure their conversation couldn’t be overheard before continuing. “I’m sure they’re swingers or something,” he said. “Wild ones, they are,” he noted.
“Oh? My goodness,” said Jack, unsure what to make of this unusual revelation. Gary and his wife had just recently moved into the same street as Jack and Emma. Right across the street, as a matter of fact. And it suddenly dawned on Jack that he was in fact the neighbour opposite that Gary was referring to. “You cheeky bugger!” he said with a laugh as the realisation kicked in. “Anyway, I’m just here to pick Ramon up for our big event.”
“Yes, I know, I already worked that out,” said Gary, giving Jack a gentle nudge in the ribs with his elbow. “That sign, though…”
“How’s that? What about my sign?” asked Jack, not sure what Gary was on about.
“Are you not aware that sign makes you look like a lovestruck fan?” replied Gary.
“It does?” asked Jack, holding up his homemade sign with Ramon’s name emblazoned on the front. “I just drew the heart on it so Ramon would know I’m from the Lonely Heart Attack Club, see?” explained Jack, running his finger around his heart-shaped handiwork. “And then I wrote the word ‘Lonely’ next to the heart so it would look like the name of our club, Lonely Heart, right? And so… and so, ehm… oh,” he said. “Yes. Ah. I see what you mean. Right,” he said, sudden realisation kicking in once again.
Gary laughed, as this was typical clueless Jack.
“Oh dear,” said Jack. “I wasn’t sure if he spoke English, so I thought a visual was important. Do you think people will think I’m a bit of a stalker or something?”
“Yes,” came Gary’s immediate reply. “Yes, I’m pretty certain of that,” he said with another laugh. “Jack, it has his name on it, Ramon Hernandez, and then below that it says LONELY in big letters and with a big old heart next to it. So, yes. Yes, to answer your question, it does make you look like
a lovesick groupie who’s trying to declare his love to Ramon. The only thing is…”
“The only thing is what?” asked Jack, not sure how it could get any worse at this point.
“Well. That heart,” said Gary, pointing to the heart.
“What about it?” asked Jack.
“It’s just… well, is that meant to be blood dripping down from it?” enquired Gary. “Because, Jesus, Jack, that’s a bit… I mean, that there is a bit… much. You know?”
“No, it wasn’t meant to look like blood dripping from the heart,” said Jack, shoulders drooping. “I see what you mean now. But, no. No, it was just the red running down as I painted it. I think I must’ve put too much paint on the brush as I was doing it,” he said, lowering his sign, dejected. “Bloody hell, it took me over an hour to make this rubbish sign as well,” he noted despairingly.
“Don’t worry, Jack, it’s not all bad,” offered Gary.
“It isn’t?” replied Jack, brightening up.
“No, on second thought, it is,” said Gary, correcting himself. “Yeah, it is all bad. Sorry.”
“You bastard,” said Jack, and they both shared a laugh.
But their sign-making discussion had to be brought to a premature close as a shrill cheer erupted, indicating Ramon had finally arrived, and thus sending Gary back to his official duties. “Best go and make sure that lot keep their knickers on,” said Gary, reaching for his radio to have it at the ready should the need present itself to call for backup.
Jack had put a great deal of effort into producing his sign, and so wasn’t about to give up on using it just yet. Plus, it was the only one he had, so there was that as well. And so he held it up with his left hand, using his right hand to obscure as best he could the LONELY (HEART) bit. Time was against him, as he didn’t have a lot of it to spare, and he was starting to suspect a swift exit was not going to be on the cards in view of the numbers in the swelling crowd. He’d not even clapped eyes on Ramon at this point, as Jack’s view was hindered by the flock of people swarming around the poor man, and with the flash from camera phones almost blinding. Jack would be lying if he said he’d never fancied the idea of being an international sex symbol. And, sure, he’d occasionally strike some seductive poses in front of the mirror, post-shave, while imagining what that must be like. But now, watching this bunch of loons fawning over Ramon as they were, well, Jack was thinking he’d best leave the role of smouldering international sex god to others.
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