by J C Williams
“I’m fine. They wouldn’t let me make a phone call.”
“Who wouldn’t?”
“The police. It’s actually a pretty funny story, one of those which isn’t funny today, but we will absolutely laugh about in three or four years. I hope.”
“Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?” she said, inspecting him for damage. “Why were you with the police?”
“Prepare yourself for a sentence I never thought I’d say! I got arrested for giving Pete a blowjob up a side alley. Surprise...”
Emma looked like she was waiting for a punchline. The two elderly ladies sat in the window very quickly stopped their conversation and tuned in.
There was no punchline forthcoming. “What?” she said.
“Can we move behind the counter?” asked Jack. “She’s about to dislocate her neck if we stay here much longer,” he said, indicating the woman whose chair was now pushed back on its rear legs.
Emma looked concerned as well as somewhat confused. Once behind the counter, away from inquisitive ears, she asked, “Jack, what’s going on?”
He took a deep breath. “Look, I heard you’d seen Helen?”
Emma blushed because she hadn’t said anything before now. “Yes, but…”
“It doesn’t matter. The thing is, I met up with her. She wrote to me.”
Emma’s bottom lip began to quiver. “Jack, are you breaking up with me?” she said as her eyes welled up.
“No, of course I’m not. Helen is a Grade A bitch, and I love you more than anything!”
Jack told her everything. He didn’t want to keep anything from her; the only reason he did in the first place was to shield her from any upset. She was surprisingly strong and practical.
“We need to speak with a lawyer,” she said. “We don’t need to tell the bank until we know what’s going on, but we can’t go through with the house purchase if the ownership of this place is uncertain. The last thing our child needs it for its parents to be in jail for fraud.”
Jack took her in his arms and held her. “It’ll be alright. I don’t know how, but it will. I’m sorry for creeping about behind your back. I should have told you about Helen coming over from the start.”
“I can’t believe she’s being like this,” said Emma. “It doesn’t sound like the Helen that I used to call my friend. If we need to, we can ask the landlord if we can stay in the flat.”
Jack rolled his eyes at the prospect. “Bitch,” he said again and again.
“One thing, though,” said Emma. “I’m used to you getting in some bizarre situations, but, explain how the hell you got arrested?”
“I can actually go one better than that,” he said, removing the phone from his pocket. “The policeman let me take a video of the CCTV. It’s actually pretty funny. Half of the station were in watching it. To be fair, looking at it now, I’m amazed they let us go in the end. I have to admit, it does look rather incriminating.”
Emma looked in disbelief. She put a hand over her mouth, partly in shock and partly to stop laughing. “Are you going to show this to Kelvin when he comes over?”
“I could probably give him some tips. Look how quickly he ended up with a splodge on his shorts, I must be a natural!”
Jack was trying to be light-hearted but he was gutted. “Emma, I’m so sorry about this. I should have sorted out the paperwork when she left, but, you know what I’m like. I hope my stupidity hasn’t mucked up everything for us?”
She gave him a warm smile. “You know what, Jack Tate, I love you. I don’t care where we live. The number of people I’ve seen in here with real problems gives you a sense of perspective. All I want is to be with you, Horace, and the bump. I want to grow old with you, and I’m not going to let Helen get in the way of that!”
.
Chapter Twelve
I t’d been an unusually cool day for June, but dry — the Isle of Man summer could often be described as erratic. Not much had been going on in the news; the town was quiet, and it was just an average day.
Ray had been dreading this day for weeks, harbouring an overwhelming sense of melancholy. He was moving in with Geoffrey at the weekend and was certainly looking forward to that. In the space of one week he was selling his home and closing the door on his business. He had no regret about selling the house; it was now his pension pot and giving him the opportunity to quit work. The business was another matter. It had been in the family for generations. He was getting too old and the competition of the big chains had rendered his services virtually redundant. He wasn’t as mobile as he once was. His locksmiths offered a 24-hr call-out service — it would now take Ray 24 hrs to get there. His health problems had stabilised, for now, but it was time to call it a day. He didn’t own the building, so there was nothing really to hand over to someone younger, and there were no family he could ‘take under his wing.’
With the help of Jack, most of the shop had been cleared out. It was all but an empty shell, ready to hand back to Jasmine, the landlady who owned his building (as well as Jack’s). No doubt it would soon become a nail bar or hairdressers, and Ray’s business would be forgotten. This was the thing he found most difficult to reconcile. He’d been in and around this shop for most of his life. He could visualise his parents stood proudly behind the counter talking like old friends to their customers. Those days had mostly gone, the days when a shop was more than a shop but was part of the community. Maybe that was why he connected so quickly with the Lonely Heart Attack Club. Jack and Emma had created something that would now be considered a relic in this age of disposable relationships and technology. As an unintentional by-product, they’d made him and others feel younger, transported to an earlier time when community worked hand-in-hand with commerce.
He stretched for a faded sepia picture which hung above the redundant fireplace. It was still in its original brass-coloured frame and had watched over him since childhood. He looked fondly at the picture and it was the item he’d dreaded removing the most. He held it firmly in both hands and stared down at it with great affection.
It was a picture of young Ray, probably nine or ten, stood outside the shop with his mother and father. They each had a hand on his shoulder and all had beaming smiles, full of hope and anticipation.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” he said as his voice broke. “It’s time to move on.”
Ray wiped a tear from his cheek and reached for his duffle bag that was almost as old as he was. He took one last look around and flicked the light switch off for the final time.
He turned to go, but jumped straight back. “Bloody hell, Jack, are you trying to finish me off?”
“I’m not going to be able to do what years of whisky haven’t been able to.”
“What are you doing here?”
“You didn’t honestly think I was going to let the oldest business owner in Douglas leave his business for the last time, all on his own?”
Ray smiled. “I’ve not been looking forward to this day, son.”
“Ninety-seven years, your family has been in this shop for, Ray. That’s amazing.”
“I should have tried to hang on for another three years.”
“Not sure you’re going to make that, Ray, if I’m being honest. Come on, I’ll take you for a Coke to celebrate.”
They stepped outside and it was unusually quiet. It had the feeling of a deserted street in a Wild West town, primed for a deadly gunfight. Ray stood in front of the shop window and looked it up and down. “Would you, son?” he said, handing Jack the keys.
“It’d be my pleasure!” said Jack, locking the door for the final time.
Jack put his arm around Ray’s shoulder and they stood for one final, poignant moment. Jack discreetly raised his thumb and within a heartbeat the sound of drums and trumpets filled the street.
Ray expelled a barely audible scream as he jumped with a start. His first reaction was to run; his brain couldn’t comprehend what was happening. A brass band turned onto the street and marched leisure
ly towards them. They were dressed in red with polished metal everywhere. The noise was exhilarating and resonated off the buildings on each side of the street. Jack beamed like an excited child, swaying his hands like he was the conductor. Behind the musical throng walked a steady current of people who released party poppers and threw tinsel in the air. It was like a 4th July circus parade; the only thing missing was the elephant at the head of the procession.
“What the hell, Jack?” shouted Ray.
Jack bobbed his head, keeping beat with the throbbing drums. “It’s for you!”
The Douglas Brass Band walked by the shop, and took up position further down the street. Behind them was a stream of familiar faces: friends from the club, people that he’d worked with over the years, and old friends. The Mayor of Douglas had put in an appearance, replete with ceremonial dress.
Ray was overwhelmed, and still a little unclear as to what was happening. A number of people appeared with long tables and benches, and within moments there was a long line of them all set up and being filled with food and drink. Hayley walked along, placing pretty floral centrepieces on each table, pausing only momentarily to blow a kiss in Ray’s direction.
During a brief interlude in the music, Jack leaned closer to Ray’s ear, which was still reverberating. “We’re having a street party!” he exclaimed.
“What?” asked Ray.
Emma joined them and put her arm around Ray’s waist. “You were one of the longest-running family businesses — still in operation — on the whole Island. There was no way we could let that pass without celebration. You’re unique! In this day and age of struggling shops, you’re an inspiration. Also, your friends wanted to mark the occasion, and you know how this lot like a drink!”
The music kicked back in and the street was filled with friends and well-wishers, stood drinking and reminiscing. People from all four branches of the club came along to join the event. Ray was one of the founding members of the club and was held in great esteem. Over the last couple of years, he’d shared his experience of being scammed and the devastating result it had on his life. He’d nearly lost all of his money buying stock in worthless companies, manipulated by sophisticated criminals whose only motivation was greed. His desire to openly talk about this time in his life had spared countless other vulnerable people falling victim to similar scams; it also encouraged other victims to come forward. Ray was just one of hundreds of people who contributed to and had become involved in the club which now provided companionship and support to thousands of people across the country. Ray was immensely proud of this.
Geoffrey was looking smart; he’d certainly made an effort.
“Bloody hell, Grandad, you scrub up alright!” said Jack, admiring his navy-blue blazer and pressed cream trousers.
“It’s not every day your friend retires, plus I thought there would be a few ladies looking for their dance card to be stamped.”
“I thought you and Hayley’s gran were...”
“No, we decided to call time on it. She wanted to settle down for a quiet life, but I’ve got something on nearly every night. Ray and I have just signed up for a rhythmic gymnastics class. Starts tomorrow, in fact.”
With his friends gathered round, Ray took the opportunity to address Geoffrey, Jack, and Emma. “Thank you all for this. I cannot begin to tell you what this means. It’s special. You’ve all made what was going to be one of my worst days into one of my best.”
Emma took him by the hand and rubbed his arm.
“I can’t explain what you’ve done to my life,” Ray continued. “I thought I’d be dead by now. I had nothing to live for, but now, with the club, I’ve got new friends and a reason to get out of bed. Everywhere I go, people have either been to the club or have friends or family that go. You’ve made a difference here, it’s something wonderful.”
“We’ve made a difference!” insisted Jack. “Don’t forget, you’ve been as much a part of all this as we have.”
Ray did a bit of catching up with friends he hadn’t seen for years and the street felt invigorated. People were laughing and joking with people they’d met for the first time, young were mixing with the old, and the air was thick with community spirit. Street parties were commonplace years ago when everyone came together for special occasions and when neighbours were also friends but seeing people here, now, full of joy, made it clear that folks still revelled in this bygone tradition.
The Mayor of Douglas brought the gathering to attention and invited Ray to join him on the wooden pallet which served as an impromptu stage.
“Ladies and gentlemen, firstly, thank you for inviting me along to this wonderful occasion. I’m delighted to be here today to celebrate Ray ‘calling it a day’. Ray is a stalwart of Douglas and a face that most of us know, and one that many respect. To have a business for nearly one-hundred years in the same family is a spectacular feat, truly remarkable. It’s wonderful to see so many of his friends here to celebrate this with him. From what I hear, he had a packed social calendar that will keep him out of trouble.”
Ray didn’t know whether to be proud or embarrassed at all this fuss made over him.
“I’d like to take the opportunity,” the Mayor continued, “to present Ray with this certificate from the people of Douglas in recognition of this special day. I’d also like to bring up his friend Jack, who also had a special gift for him.”
Once up on stage — or pallet, as it were — Jack waved at the crowd and acknowledged His Worship.
“Ladies and gentlemen, many of you here today are friends and acquaintances of Ray. Many of you have just appeared for the free food — you know who you are! Anyway, we’ve also got a special present for you, Ray. We’ve spent weeks up at the Manx Museum, scouring thousands of photographs of Douglas. We’ve been able to chart the progress of your family business and I’m sure you’ll like some of the pictures we’ve found.”
Jack and Emma had bound the photographs in an exquisite red-leather binder. Ray was emotionally fragile before, but when he opened the book and looked at pictures of his family business he’d never seen before, the floodgates opened. They’d managed to find photographs of when the shop opened all the way through to the present day, with pictures of his family that he’d never seen.
Ray absorbed the moment. He looked all around him and didn’t want to miss anything. “Thank you!” he said to everyone gathered. “Thank you all for coming. I’ve closed one chapter on my life, but thanks to some special people, I’ve just started on the next. The gifts today mean a great deal, thank you. I’ve made some great friends and continue to do so in the club. If you’ve never been to the Lonely Heart Attack Club, I’d urge you to do so. It’s very special. I’m truly humbled by this and I hope you have a good time.”
The numbers swelled beyond that of the invited guests. People appeared from the houses and flats nearby and before long the street was filled. There was no trouble, just people enjoying each other’s company. It was a special evening.
“We should do this each year, Jack,” suggested Emma, who was dancing to the beat of ABBA coming from someone’s phone. “Everyone seems to be having a great time.”
“Is that a bit of ABBA I can hear??” shouted an excitable voice. “Snake hips, coming through!” Pete put his arms around Emma and brought a degree of elegant campness to the proceedings.
“Is Kelvin here?” asked Emma.
“He most certainly is, he’s over there, talking with Ray.”
“So, that’s him now living over here?”
“Well, I think so, judging by the amount of luggage he’s brought!”
Emma smiled. “Aww, I’m really happy for you, Pete. You deserve it!”
“Was Ray surprised?”
“Totally! He loved his present and just look at the expression on his face, he hasn’t stopped smiling.”
Pete laughed as he looked at Grandad, who’d started dancing. “Has he been on the good stuff?” he asked.
“I certainly hope so, a
s there is no other excuse for that gyrating,” said Emma. “What’s up with your face?” she asked as Jack walked towards them.
He was looking cautiously towards Grandad, who was becoming more and more animated. “Nothing, it’s great to see Kelvin here. You should keep an eye on him, though, as Grandad looks like he’s about to grab him for a dance at any moment! Oh, by the way, Jasmine just called, said she wants to come down and see me. We don’t owe her any money, do we?”
“No, of course we don’t,” said Emma. “Maybe she just wanted to come down to join the party?”
Jack and Jasmine had enjoyed a testing relationship over the years. To be fair to her, things only soured when they didn’t pay their rent. In hindsight, she’d been more accommodating than most landlords would be in the same situation. Even though the business was stronger than it had ever been, Jack still felt a wave of panic whenever she wanted to see him. Like getting a call from the Doctor’s, they don’t often phone to just say hello.
Pete had a face that was wracked with guilt. He bowed his head and raised one finger, like a pupil asking the teacher a question.
“I might have said something to Jasmine,” he confessed.
“About what?” asked Jack.
“I was venting my frustration about Helen, and I might have told her what a bitch she’s being, sorry, but I was just annoyed about the whole thing.”
Jack shrugged his shoulders and told him, “I wouldn’t worry about it. It must be something to do with money — she’s probably figured out some way to raise the rent or something. I need a drink before I can face up to that.” And then, “Ah! Kelvin, great to see you, welcome to our fair Island.”
Kelvin was beaming; it was clear he was happy to be there.
“What a fantastic evening, I’m sorry I was late in but the flight was delayed.”
Emma linked arms with him. “I’m so pleased you’re here, Pete has been beside himself for weeks!”
“I’m really pleased to be here as well. I don’t know what it is, but whenever I’m here I feel like I can just relax. It’s going to be a busy few weeks, though, getting the garden centre as we want it, but I’m really looking forward to the challenge. We should fix a date to go out for a few drinks, maybe a meal.”
