THIRD FIT
26.
Tea Dance
BETTY’S Tea Rooms (est. 1919) have never been so full. Present are people of every colour and creed, crammed into the café and calling for cakes. Giant balloons float above tables, champagne is flowing and music is blaring in wild celebration. Lily Gusset is up on the counter, dancing with Catkin. S/he loved her new present, the black frilly bra, is exhibiting it with wild abandon.
''Ooooh, Yo-yo,'' s/he'd squealed, ''Thanks very much.''
Catkin Silver is a surly boy in a plain, grey T-shirt and black, board shorts. He has dusty-blond hair and adolescent acne sprayed over his face. ''That's the end of my job,'' he says, sucking on a cigarette. ''Never liked it anyway. Who'd wanna get shot out of a fecking cannon twice a day?'' He grabs Lily round the waist. ''Not when they can dance the night away with a beauty like this! Shall we get married? Or just get it together?'' He grinds out his ciggie then grinds Lily's groin.
''Ooooh, Catty, you're love-ly, so romantic.'' They snog passionately.
Katze is talking to Mrs Lollipop in a corner. His cap is pushed forward to cover his eyes. The tab-end has vanished, along with the stubble. He has smartened up and is holding her hand.
''I know this is sudden,'' he awkwardly says, ''But I …. like you ... my dear .…'' Mrs Lollipop's heart flutters. ''I .... I ...…quite…..like…..''
''He loves you,'' says Yo-yo, ''He's crazy about you. He wants to marry you. Isn't that right?''
Katze shifts awkwardly.
''Oh, Katze!'' Mrs Lollipop flings her arms round his neck. ''What a wonderful idea! Of course we should marry!''
For the first time in living memory, Katze smiles. It's quite a scary sight, like a pussy cat who has spotted a Doberman stuck on his side of the fence, but Yo-yo supposes they'll get used to it.
The Japanese students photograph cakes.
''Hello, Martin Mizzenmast,'' says Yo-yo to the schoolboy, now restored to his red Minster School blazer. ''I'm sorry they ducked you but I needed your clothes.''
''I know,'' grins young Mizzenmast, ''But the ducking turned out to be fun. I made some new friends on the bed of the Ouse. A weed and a pebble. They're ever so nice. Every time I went under, they asked how I was. The weed gave me air and the stone just kept talking. Got a chip on his shoulder the size of Newcastle.''
''I know,'' says Yo-yo. ''He's a miserable old git, is Stone, but he's okay underneath. He's had a tough life.''
Baby the Blackbird is perched on the piano talking to Ruff.
''All right?'' says Yo-yo.
''Aye, still breathing,'' answers the bear.
''I told you to come at it from a different angle,'' says Baby delightedly. ''Well done. Even Quackers agrees.''
Jungle-Juiced Jake sits near the doorway. He's fairly disconsolate now the lion has left him. Yo-yo wonders what he can provide. Maybe a chimp? Or maybe ...
''Let me introduce you to Baby the blackbird.''
There's a mutual twittering. Yo-yo moves on.
''So,'' chutters the pipe, ''How's it gone, do you think?''
''Excellent, Uncle.'' He butters a slice of Yorkshire tea-loaf. ''We've made people happy and we've made them believe.''
''That's what we're here for,'' says Aunty Latch.
''You got your jewel?'' puffs Uncle Reefer.
Yo-yo lowers the neck of his sweater. The shiny green emerald set in the ring and bound to a chain rests content again on his chest.
''Your Mum will be happy.'' remarks Aunty Latch.
Yo-yo's face darkens. ''She left me for Stins, the one-legged window cleaner with a face like a brick and breath like a baboon eating a bag of turds.''
''Understand, Yo-yo. Your mother was lonely,'' says Uncle Reefer. ''She needed a friend, a support. When Stins polished her windows, I suppose she felt happy.''
The day that it happened, Yo-yo's mother, whom he adored, had left him a note saying 'Tea in the oven. At the pictures with Stins', the one-legged window cleaner who'd propped his ladder against Yo-yo's window and leeringly polished his pane. Stins had a face like a monkey chewing a skunk and hair to match. Why the hell had she gone out with him? Yo-yo had thrown his pork chop on to the back lawn and downed a whole bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. Sick as a dog, he'd crawled into the toilet, retching and spewing all over the tiles. She didn't care for him at all. She preferred to go out with One-Legged Stins, the one-legged window cleaner. Yo-yo's anger had made his head throb.
''How do you feel?'' asks Matron Majeiskii, combing her hands.
''I'm fine,'' says Yo-yo. ''How about you?''
''It was never personal,'' says Matron Majeiskii. ''I was only following orders.''
''That's what they all say.'' Yo-yo suddenly takes her in his arms and gives her a kiss. ''You were always kind to me.''
Matron Majeiskii had brought him tea and, very occasionally, cake. Even when they had decided he needed force-feeding, she had done it kindly. No funnels for her, just tea-spoons and coaxing. She had often stroked his hair when he had been agitated or out-of-control, and, once in a while, she had let him sit alone on the lawn to enjoy the weak sunshine warming his skin and listen to the thrushes chirruping gaily among the clouds of cherry blossoms in the orchard nearby. She had wheeled him down to the fountain to watch some of the others play croquet. Yes, the Many Kindnesses of Matron Majeiskii had made life in Gillworthy almost acceptable, and Yo-yo would always be grateful. He kisses her again. ''Thank you,'' he says.
The Lettuce Brothers are already obnoxiously drunk.
''You stupid, big-nosed twat!'' Kos is saying. ''You should've played on Even Reds.''
''It's easy to say that now,'' says Rocket, ''Now you know it was red and even.''
''You lost all our money, you arse-head,'' grumbles Kos.
Chicory vomits violently into a flower-pot. ''I'm sorry, plant,'' he mumbles contritely, ''Really sorry. You're quite a cutie, aren't you? What're you doing later?''
Constable Kipper enters the room. ''Hello, hello, hello. What's all this then?'' He bends his knees. ''Whose is that rickety car parked outside? You're on a double yellow, you know.''
''That's us!'' says Rocket.
''Well, I gave you a ticket,'' says Constable Kipper, ''But, when I put it on the windscreen, the car collapsed. Sorry. It's a heap of metal round the front.''
''Arse-biscuits,'' says Rocket. ''You wrecked our car!''
''You stupid plod!'' cries Kos.
''Well,'' says Constable Kipper, ''It's clearly an unroadworthy vehicle. Have you got a current M.o.T. certificate? And what about the insurance? Are you insured? There'll be a fine in this.''
''We got no money,'' says Endive.
''Not since the fat-nosed twat here placed it all on black and odd,'' scowls Kos.
''I'm sorry, right?'' Rocket snaps. ''Jeez, why can't you let anything go?''
As the Lettuce Brothers slip into a furious row, Kipper's attention is drawn to a painting on the wall. It is a beautiful landscape from the Romantic period, dramatic glowering cliffs, thundering waterfalls, skeletal trees, a little cottage in the foreground with a farmer's boy, a milkmaid and an old shepherd with a little dog. As he peers more closely, sipping his tea, the milkmaid waves. Then the waterfall ripples. The picture is alive. This is great tea, thinks Kipper, sipping some more. The dog seems to bark. Constable Kipper's head jerks out of his tea cup.
''Listen, you anus,'' Kos is saying, ''I said at the time..…''
A loud pop signals the end of one of Lily Gusset's balloons. S/he and Catkin are noisily shagging on top of the piano. Jungle-Juiced Jake is sitting morosely in the corner reminiscing about his cosy nights in with Brian the Lion as the piano
t
ins
kle
and Lily yells ''Catkin! Catkin! Take me roughly! Take me roughly'' and Catkin throws his cigarette on to the floor to grip Lily's buttocks more firmly.
The farmer's boy, who looks a little like Sylvain, flicks his fishing rod. Co
nstable Kipper peers again. The milkmaid, who seems to be pregnant and resembles Aureole, waves again. The waterfall splashes into a deep pool in the rocks. An old elm tree sways in the breeze. The old shepherd, who might be Chrétien, pats his dog. The boy flicks his rod once again. It is the very definition of idyllic pastoral.
''OHHHH, Catkin,'' groans Lily, ''Catkin….. Ohhhhhhh.''
''Shut your face, Kos,'' snaps Rocket.
Slowly it dawns on Constable Kipper that he is not looking at a painting after all. He is, in fact, regarding Rue's lovely, painted buttocks which are framed on the wall.
''SSSSSSHHHHHH!'' hiss the buttocks. ''Don't give us away. We'll do for you what we did for Vanilla.''
Kipper has a mental flash of himself attached to Rue's bed by a chain attached to a black leather collar.
''OK,'' he whispers.
''Look!'' shouts Rocket, ''Leave me alone! I made a mistake, all right? It happens.''
''You're a very nice plant,'' Chicory murmurs. ''How about you and me getting out of this joint and hitting somewhere more lively?''
''You must be joking, you big-nosed bastard,'' the plant replies.
Chicory steps back, bursts into tears. ''She doesn't love me. She doesn't love me.''
''What you on about, you weirdo?'' says Kos.
''It's a fecking plant, you moron,'' says Rocket.
''OOOOOOOOOHHHHHH, Catty,'' squeals Lily, ''Scratch me, scratch me.''
''Getting out of hand, love,'' Uncle Reefer remarks.
''It'll end in tears,'' agrees Aunty Latch.
Now no-one really knows what happened next. Yo-yo couldn't tell me. Neither could Constable Kipper. All we know is that someone, and we can't be certain which of the Lettuce Brothers it was, threw a custard pie which hit Police Constable Kipper in the back of his unfeasibly square head and dripped custard on to his collar.
''Hello, hello, hello,'' he goes, ''I'm an officer of the law. You can't pie me. Who threw it? Come on! Who threw it? Who threw that pie? If you don't own up, you'll only make it worse for yourself.''
Silence.
''Right then, the whole class stays behind till the person who threw that pie owns up.'' Constable Kipper's face is as red as a red brick painted red.
''It was Kos!''
''It was Rocket!''
''It was Endive!''
''It was Chicory!''
''It can't have been all of you!'' bellows Constable Kipper.
''Oh yes it could,'' chorus the clowns.
''Oh no it couldn't,'' cries Constable Kipper.
''Oh yes it could,'' chorus the clowns.
And the second pie is launched. Right in Kipper's face. As he splutters and staggers, wiping custard from his eyes, he realises he's dropped his tea and his blueberry muffin. Everyone gasps and f r e e z e s.
No-one, but NO-ONE, comes between the constable and his cuppa.
''Now then, now then!'' he yells, waving his truncheon. The third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh pie are hurled straight at his helmet.
A pie hits
Lily and Catkin, exhausted and sweating on the piano.
Lily becomes a teenage girl in pink dungarees with blonde hair in bunches and braces on her teeth. Catkin becomes a boy in a red Liverpool shirt and blue tracksuit trousers.
A pie hits
Baby who turns into a baby, crying and pooing into a fatly full crap-bag a.k.a. nappy.
A pie hits
Martin Mizzenmast who sings ''Oh for the wings for the wings of a dove'' in a pure perfect treble and is transported from red blazer and grey trousers into red cassock and white surplice.
A pie hits
Mrs Lollipop who immediately accepts Katze's marriage proposal and jigs for joy.
A pie hits
Katze's car, which turns into a black Rolls-Royce Phantom.
A pie hits
Miyumi who recites ''The rain in Spain falls mainly in the plain'' in flawless English
A pie hits
Jungle-Juiced Jake who gives up the booze and the lions and starts running marathons
A pie hits
Reefer whose pipe expires with a winnowing whimper.
A pie hits
the painting. Rue detaches herself from the wall and wraps a white, silk robe around her shoulders.
''It could have been you, Yo-yo,'' she says.
He has a mental flash of his own naked self attached to Rue's bed-post by a dog-collar and lead. ''Maybe it's not too late?'' he quavers.
Cinnamon slices and cucumber sandwiches, strawberry flans and scones thick with cream, Danish pastries and Bettys Fat Rascals fly through the air. Endive and Chicory, Baby and Catkin, Jake and McTavish, Kipper and Mizzenmast, Kos and Rocket, Harry and Christa, Ruff and Majeiskii grapple together. Tables are thrown, chairs are smashed, stools are flung, bodies fall. The floor is covered with puddles of tea and cream.
A pie hits
the back wall of Bettys.
Yo-yo's Weekend Page 35