A Way Back Home: Full of warmth, laughter, tears and a wedding! (The Willow Tree Hall Series)

by Alison Sherlock

  ‘Then you appear to have invited the wrong crowd,’ said Will, pointing at the front door as Alex appeared.

  Behind Alex, Skye could see five leather-clad, long-haired rockers that could only be Hazy Memory. Annie had told Skye that Hazy Memory were one of the first bands that Sam had ever managed and had been apparently named after a wild weekend in the early seventies which none of them could remember.

  Despite their long hair and the wrinkles that betrayed a wild social life spread over many years, Will had told her that they were actually a pretty nice bunch of guys. Notwithstanding their overreliance on awful rock music and leather clothing.

  ‘The entertainment has arrived,’ croaked Mick, the scratchy voiced lead singer and infamous womaniser. ‘Bring on the strippers!’

  ‘It’s not that kind of stag night,’ Sam told him, going up to shake hands.

  ‘What other kind is there?’ said Mick, raising his eyebrows and giving Will a wide grin. ‘As best man, I’ll be holding you personally responsible if there are no beautiful women there. Apart from gorgeous Rose, of course.’

  ‘Darling!’ cooed Rose, pretending to blush. ‘You’re such a charmer.’

  ‘So my three ex-wives tell me,’ said Mick, giving her a hug.

  The other band members exchanged handshakes with Arthur and Will and hugs with Sam.

  Skye was agog. Everybody in the country knew Hazy Memory, so to have them standing in front of her was quite amazing.

  ‘Did you see my text?’ asked Sam. ‘The rumour is that you’re going to be the number one album this week.’

  ‘Been a few decades since we’ve been up at the top of the charts,’ said Howard the drummer.

  ‘Let alone the number one Christmas album,’ said Sam, still looking proud.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Mick. ‘It’s been nice to sing something we don’t hate, you know?’

  Hazy Memory had the dubious honour of recording the most annoying Christmas single of all time. They all hated their one big hit song but knew it was the only way to make a living. However, a chance singalong to various Frank Sinatra songs at the summer fete held at Willow Tree Hall had gone viral, thanks to people recording it on their iPhones. Suddenly the band were back in the big league with their latest album, full of old fashioned hits given a soft rock twist.

  ‘We’re the mums’ favourite now,’ said Howard.

  ‘I always was,’ said Mick, with a lascivious leer.

  ‘Given your combined age, I would say it’s more likely to be the grannies,’ said Alex. ‘But at least it’ll give you some money so you can update your wardrobes.’

  ‘We’ve got our best leather on tonight,’ said Howard in protest.

  Alex shook his head sadly. ‘Yes, you are the style that taste forgot. Sweet Skye,’ he said, suddenly spotting her almost hiding behind Will and stepping forward to give her a hug, ‘I didn’t see you there. Have you got your jim-jams with you?’

  Skye giggled.

  ‘Oh god,’ muttered Alex to her ear. ‘Hang onto your hemline. Here comes Mick.’

  Skye stared wide-eyed as the gangly, dark haired rocker walked across, giving her a slow once over. ‘Hello, my darlin’,’ he rasped.

  Skye blushed. His youthful blue eyes twinkled, the assets that he had used to woo many hundreds of women over the years. With his long hair, he had all the hallmarks of a classic rock star, albeit one now enjoying middle age.

  ‘Leave off,’ said Alex, holding up a warning hand. ‘She’s far too bohemian for your taste.’

  ‘Maybe I’d better taste her to find out for myself,’ said Mick, his eyes gleaming as he looked her up and down.

  Skye stood awkwardly, not knowing how to react.

  ‘Rose, darling!’ called out Alex. ‘Come and save Skye! For goodness’ sake, take her away before Mick absconds with her.’

  ‘Wait!’ said Mick, looking around. ‘Where are you girls going?’

  ‘The hens are having a pyjama party upstairs,’ said Alex.

  ‘I always sleep in the nude myself,’ said Mick, giving Skye another lascivious leer.

  ‘Well, that mental image is going to stay with me forever and a day,’ said Alex, with a shudder. ‘Be off with you all. I’m staying with the ladies for a while.’

  ‘Maybe I could stay as well,’ said Mick.

  ‘Out!’ ordered Alex.

  Will looked at Skye. ‘Have fun,’ he told her, with a wink.

  ‘You too,’ she replied.

  After they had left, Alex offered an arm to both Rose and Skye. ‘Shall we, ladies?’ he said and they headed upstairs to Rose’s bedroom suite. Skye had never been in there before and was amazed. It was a proper lady’s boudoir, with luxurious carpets and decadent trimmings such as silver candlesticks and ornate mirrors. Along one side were three massive built in wardrobes which, apparently, held Rose’s vast collection of designer clothes from her many decades working in the fashion industry. Alex had done a tremendous job designing the whole room, and it suited Rose perfectly.

  ‘It’s so lovely,’ Skye sighed, looking around.

  ‘And now that we’re here, it’s perfect,’ said Megan from the doorway to the en-suite where she had been getting changed into a pair of pink pyjama bottoms covered in hearts and a T-shirt that read “Bridesmaid” in sparkly letters.

  Eleanor was wearing a similar set, whereas Annie’s top differed with the words “Bride-To-Be”.

  ‘Oooh! Where are mine?’ said Rose.

  ‘Here,’ said Eleanor, handing over a pair that had been on a pile on the bed. ‘And here are yours, Skye.’

  ‘What about me?’ wailed Alex. ‘I can’t wear those things.’

  ‘We have something very special for you,’ said Megan, with a wink.

  After Skye and Rose had changed into their pyjama sets which read “Team Bride”, they all waited for Alex to re-emerge from the en-suite bathroom.

  ‘Come on, Alex!’ cried Megan. ‘We’re waiting to get stuck into the champagne here!’

  Finally the door swung back open and Alex appeared wearing a bright pink onesie with the words “Team Bride” emblazoned on the back in sequins.

  ‘It’s so me, darlings!’ he cried.

  ‘I love it!’ said Annie.

  ‘You can’t see that I’m going commando, can you?’ he said, peering down at his crotch.

  ‘No,’ they all lied.

  ‘Sweetie, once we start on the champagne we’ll all be seeing double anyway,’ said Rose, with a gurgle. ‘And talking of which…’ she added in a pointed tone.

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Eleanor, heading over to one of the dressing tables and opening up the cupboard.

  Skye was amazed to see that it was actually a drinks fridge.

  Eleanor handed everyone a chilled champagne glass before filling them with Prosecco.

  ‘Cheers!’ said everyone, clinking their glasses. ‘Happy Hen Night.’

  ‘Let’s get this party started,’ roared Alex.

  40

  Will’s job as best man had been to get Sam drunk and keep everyone else out of jail. Which, considering Hazy Memory were in attendance, was easier than he had imagined. Probably because they were confined to the pub for the evening. Of course, there was plenty of alcohol flowing, though Tom declared himself to be the taxi for that evening.

  ‘I don’t need to be drunk and disorderly in the newspapers again,’ he had told Will when they arrived, referring to his own recent scandal.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Will, gesturing to the band. ‘If there’s any headlines to be made, it’ll be them.’

  Mick was leaning against the bar, chatting up the barmaid as she took his order for the next round of drinks.

  ‘He’s always looking for his next near Mrs,’ said Howard, before downing his pint. ‘When’s the stripper coming?’

  ‘No stripper,’ said Will, shaking his head. ‘Groom’s orders.’

  ‘Whaddyamean?’ said Howard, looking horrified.

  ‘What’s this?’ said Mick, coming
over to the table with a tray full of drinks.

  ‘No stripper,’ wailed Howard.

  ‘Doesn’t mean I won’t be seeing the female form naked at some point tonight,’ said Mick, looking back and giving the barmaid his cheekiest smile.

  ‘How do you do it?’ said Sam, shaking his head.

  ‘You’ve either got it or you ain’t,’ Mick told him, grinning at Will. ‘Your little brother here has it in spades.’

  ‘Not these days,’ said Will quickly. ‘Right, Grandad. What about that game of darts?’

  As the evening wore on and the drinks flowed, the landlord of the pub who knew Arthur and the family well persuaded the band to get up on the small stage to do a small singalong.

  Arthur, Sam, Will and Tom watched as Hazy Memory began to sing rather raucous versions of their take on Frank Sinatra songs which were doing so well in the charts.

  ‘I don’t know how they’ve done so well,’ said Sam with a slightly lopsided smile. ‘But I’m glad they have. They’re good lads.’

  ‘Indeed they are,’ said Arthur, looking equally relaxed after a couple of pints.

  Unfortunately, by then Mick had already moved onto shots of tequila and could barely string a sentence together, let alone a whole bar of music. But nobody in the pub seemed to mind, such was his charm.

  Eventually he staggered off stage and disappeared up the stairs of the pub shortly afterwards, presumably into the willing arms of Bronte the barmaid.

  Tom was persuaded to take his place and soon the singalong was back on.

  *

  Back at the hall, Skye couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed so much. Of course, Rose’s skills at cocktail making had probably helped. But they were all singing and giggling as they lounged around on Rose’s bed.

  The credits for the end of Dirty Dancing rolled past on the massive television that was normally hidden at the bottom of Rose’s bed.

  ‘What next?’ said Megan, standing up to grab one of the bags she had brought with her. ‘Woah! Head rush!’ she said, swaying slightly.

  ‘My head’s fuzzy too,’ said Eleanor. ‘What was in that last cocktail, Rose?’

  ‘Everything,’ said Rose, laughing.

  ‘Lemme see what I’ve got,’ said Megan, emptying out her bag onto the bed. DVDs, chocolates, condoms, deely boppers and a box of straws tipped out onto the covers. ‘Oh, we forgot to use the willy straws earlier.’

  Alex picked up one of the foil packets. ‘What kind of party were you expecting, darling?’ he said. ‘I don’t think you’re my type.’

  ‘That’s very anti-redhead,’ slurred Megan. ‘What shall we put on next?’

  ‘Not the condoms,’ said Skye, before giggling.

  Alex gave her a drunken nudge with his elbow. ‘Good one, sweetie.’

  ‘Mamma Mia!’ cried Annie, grabbing one of the DVD boxes.

  ‘Good choice!’ said Rose. ‘Oooh, Pierce Brosnan! I so would, darlings.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Alex, nodding his head onto Rose’s shoulder.

  Eleanor’s phone buzzed with a text. She smiled as she read it. ‘Tom’s sent me a video. Apparently they’re on the stage doing an impromptu gig.’

  ‘Let’s have a look!’ cried Annie.

  They all crowded around Eleanor’s phone to peer at the screen.

  ‘He says Sam took the video,’ said Eleanor, smiling at the screen. ‘There’s my gorgeous boyfriend.’

  ‘Where’s Mick?’ asked Megan.

  ‘Gone off with some barmaid, apparently.’

  ‘That’ll be Bronte,’ said Annie, her words slurring. ‘The one with the Wonderbra. She tried to chat up Sam a few times.’

  ‘Rotten cow,’ said Megan, frowning.

  ‘Too right,’ agreed Eleanor. ‘She can keep her hands off my fella as well.’

  ‘I think the only single gentlemen in there are from the band and my brother, of course,’ said Rose.

  ‘I can’t see Bronte winning over Arthur,’ said Megan, laughing and almost falling over.

  ‘What about Will?’ asked Eleanor.

  Rose smiled. ‘I’m not sure he’s a bachelor any more,’ she said, smiling sweetly at Skye.

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ replied Skye, shuffling in her seat as they all grinned at her.

  ‘Yeah, you do,’ said Megan, staggering over to the TV with the DVD in her hand. ‘But we’ll let you off.’

  But even through her drunken haze, Skye knew that she had to say something. ‘I’m having a drink with Jamie later this week.’

  ‘Oooh!’ they all said.

  ‘Take these with you!’ said Alex, grabbing a handful of condoms and throwing them at Skye.

  They all roared with laughter and then began to sing as Mamma Mia started to play on the TV screen.

  But Skye was still trying to think straight through her fuzzy brain cells. Why did they all think that Will wasn’t a bachelor any more?

  *

  Thanks to Tom’s sobriety, the songs continued and the whole pub enjoyed the singalong.

  As Mick descended only to grab a bottle of wine from behind the bar and then disappeared again, they left him behind when it was finally time to go home.

  ‘Was it enough for you?’ asked Will, feeling a little worse for wear but not too drunk.

  Sam nodded, his head falling onto his brother’s shoulder as they sat in the back of Tom’s 4x4. ‘All good, little bro,’ he mumbled. ‘Where’s my Annie?’

  ‘She’s safe with Alex,’ Will told him, before giggling.

  That didn’t turn out to be entirely true, however.

  When Sam and Will staggered through the front door, with Tom holding up a rather sleepy Arthur, they discovered that the party had moved to the entrance hall.

  Abba songs were blaring out from an iPad placed on a nearby table. Champagne glasses and empty bottles were piled up next to it.

  ‘Hello, groom!’ said Annie, wearing her Bride-To-Be pyjamas and dancing over to fling herself at Sam, who staggered backwards but just managed to hold onto her.

  ‘Hello, bride,’ he murmured, giving her a sloppy kiss.

  ‘What’s going on here?’ asked Tom, laughing.

  ‘Mattress surfing!’ shouted Eleanor from the top of the stairs.

  She and Megan were holding onto a double mattress from one of the guest bedrooms. Will watched as they looked at each other then clambered gingerly onto the mattress, giggling all the while.

  ‘Be careful!’ shouted Tom.

  Annie laughed hysterically. ‘Go!’ she shouted.

  Eleanor and Megan pushed themselves off the top step and began their descent. They just managed to manoeuvre the mattress around the long bend of the grand staircase before picking up speed on the final flight.

  ‘Watch out!’ Tom pulled Annie and Sam out of the way just in time as the mattress came hurtling by. Thankfully it came to a halt just before reaching Arthur and the band.

  ‘Good evening,’ said Arthur, swaying a little as he smiled down at them.

  ‘Hello, Arthur!’ said Megan, struggling to stand up. ‘Do you want a go!’

  ‘No!’ shouted Will, finding he was sobering up fast.

  ‘Right! Who’s next?’ hollered Eleanor.

  They all looked up the grand staircase to where Skye and Alex were giggling and holding onto each other. They both looked very drunk.

  ‘Where’s Aunt Rose?’ asked Will.

  ‘Passed out on her bed,’ said Megan, snorting with laughter.

  ‘We need a mattress!’ shouted Alex.

  ‘Slide down the banister!’ Sam told them. ‘That’s what we used to do!’

  ‘No!’ said Will, but it was too late.

  Skye had already swung one leg over the top of the banister and was beginning to come down backwards.

  Will felt a cold chill run through him and rushed forward along with Tom to stand at the bottom. It was a hell of a drop, he realised, staring up to where she was. Thankfully she took it quite slowly at the top, halting her pro
gress every so often with her hands. But as she passed the halfway mark she gave a loud shout of ‘Ready or not! Here I come!’ and let herself go.

  She picked up speed quickly. So much so that when she shot off the final curl of the banister, she catapulted into Will and they both went flying. Thankfully they landed on the nearby mattress.

  Skye looked up at Will and laughed. ‘That was so much fun!’ she said, obviously very drunk.

  ‘Come on, Alex!’ shouted Sam. ‘You’re next!’

  ‘I can’t!’ said Alex, giggling as he sank onto the top step. ‘I’ve gone commando and I’ll ruin the best of me!’

  ‘Let’s watch another film!’ cried Megan.

  ‘Yeah!’ said Eleanor, standing up to give Tom a kiss. ‘Goodnight, lover. See you tomorrow.’

  ‘I’ll have the hangover cures waiting,’ he told her.

  Megan, Eleanor and Annie then rushed back upstairs.

  ‘Are you going to be okay with that lot?’ said Tom, looking at both Sam and Will, who was helping Skye stand up.

  ‘They’ll pass out soon,’ Will told him. ‘Come on, let’s get them upstairs.’

  Arthur and Sam made a weaving path up the grand staircase. Tom made sure that the band went into the drawing room for a brandy, with the promise of a game of snooker in the library as well.

  That left Skye and Will alone in the entrance hall.

  ‘You’re not a hen,’ she told him, poking him in the chest with her finger. ‘You’re not supposed to be here.’

  ‘Quite right,’ he replied. ‘You’d better get back up there.’

  She stared up at the big staircase and the double height ceiling. ‘Did I really come down that?’ she said, her eyes clicking wide.

  ‘Yup,’ he told her.

  She gulped before giggling, swaying as she did so into his chest.

  ‘Shouldn’t you be in bed?’ he said, softly, propping her upright.

  Skye burst into drunken giggles once more. ‘You’re such a playboy,’ she told him. ‘Besides, I’m not going to bed for hours.’

  And then she sprinted away up the stairs to rejoin the girls at the top of the steps. Will could hear them giggling as they headed back to their sleepover.