The Coming of Derek (a quirky comedy)

by A. J. Carpenter

  ‘I don’t know,’ Beverley said quietly, as they both looked down at the table.

  ‘I’m really sorry, Beverley,’ Derek said placing his hand on hers.

  ‘I’m sorry too, Derek. I’m sorry too.’

  Derek had spent a good few hours with Beverley. Limited words had been spoken and Derek was yet to shed a single tear for his newly departed friend. It felt as though her death was circling around him but that it hadn’t yet touched him.

  As he arrived home, he was dying for a hug from Janka. He tried calling out to her but his voice was weak and fragile, so there had been no answer. He tried the kitchen first and then the living room, before deciding that she may have taken advantage of Derek’s absence and gone back to bed. Ascending the stairs, his limbs felt as though they were filled with bags of flour and saliva was short.

  ‘Janka!’ he tried again weakly, but there was still no answer, so he opened the door to their bedroom.

  ‘More fast! More fast!’ Janka screamed with delight, as Sean pounded her from behind. ‘Ooh! Oh!’ she moaned, whilst Sean kindly obliged.

  Her arms were stretched out in front of her and her head was smothered in the mattress. Her tight little bottom was high in the sky and Sean was on his knees riding her from behind like a bull.

  ‘Janka?’ Derek whispered breathily, feeling as though he was living some horrific nightmare.

  Janka was too busy to hear. But Sean did and he turned his head to see Derek poking out gawkily from behind the door. But he didn’t stop. Instead he started pumping her harder and making filthy noises in the hope that this would encourage her to do the same. She did and soon the two were in a battle of the pornos.

  ‘Oh yeah! You’re so hot, you filthy foreign slut!’ Sean grunted, as his upper lip snarled upwards towards Derek.

  ‘Argh, uz budu, uz budu,’ Janka groaned, entirely unaware. ‘Put your finger my...’

  ‘How could you?’ Derek mouthed to himself, unable to breathe.

  Sean pulled his arm dramatically up in the air and demonstrated a plunging motion as he delved directly towards her balloon knot.

  ‘How could you!’ Derek screamed.

  Janka jumped but did not look around.

  ‘How could you?’ Derek uttered again distraught.

  Janka turned over slowly and looked at him with guilty eyes.

  ‘You slut! You filthy little whore! I asked you to marry me. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. Does that mean nothing? I never got to say goodbye to my best friend for you and you...and you...’ he burst, shoving Sean off her and pulling her up to face him by the shoulders.

  Janka looked at Derek intently, before laughing at him.

  ‘It’s not funny! It’s not funny!’ Derek screamed, shaking her violently, before catching himself and stopping.

  He stared into space for a moment, attempting to calm himself, before continuing.

  ‘Get out! Get the fuck out of my house, now!’ he shouted, unable to swallow the sight of her.

  ‘Dirik, I am sorry,’ Janka responded, realizing only then that he was uncharacteristically angry. ‘It was just one. One sex I promise,’ she said, as she lent in to kiss him, presuming that everything would be okay.

  ‘Get off!’ Derek spat, pushing her to the side. ‘Get out now! Now!’ he screamed.

  Janka was a little turned on by Derek’s alpha outburst but she jumped up quickly and tottered out of the room. Derek then turned his attention to Sean.

  ‘Sean, isn’t it?’ he demanded embodied by rage.

  ‘Yes, yes it is,’ Sean said smugly, as though he were James Bond.

  Derek wasted no time in slapping him across the face.

  ‘That’s from Felicity,’ he said, before delivering a perfect punch right in his stomach. ‘And that’s from me,’ he completed.

  Much to his surprise, Sean did not fight back, instead he picked up his t-shirt from the ground, clutched it over his privates and wiggled embarrassed from the room.

  Derek was now alone. His heart was beating a thousand times a minute and he was breathing heavily as he staggered to sit on the bed. Cupping his head in his hands, the tears began to flow uncontrollably. He was a mess and struggling to understand why he had ever doubted Felicity. Why hadn’t he believed her? Why hadn’t he at least spoken to Janka about it? Felicity had only been looking out for his best interests and he had kicked her in the face. And now she was dead, the one person left in the world who meant anything to him and she was gone too. The tears were still flooding out, making Derek’s chest shake compulsively whilst he desperately bit on his bottom lip in an attempt to stop it from quivering.

  Suddenly there was a knock at the door and Janka poked her head around it cautiously.

  ‘I must get my things,’ she said, as she looked at him regretfully.

  ‘Fine,’ Derek replied, with salt stained eyes. ‘Get your stuff and get out.’

  ‘But I can stay,’ Janka tried again, convinced that he would come around.

  Derek couldn’t bear to look at her, so he walked out of the room.

  ‘Hurry up and get out,’ he said bitterly on his departure.

  Finding shelter in his old bedroom, Derek found himself curled up in the foetal position, his eyes drenched with tears. He didn’t sleep at all that night, instead he cried. He cried for Janka’s betrayal, he cried for the loss of his mum and grandmother, but most of all he cried for Felicity. He had lost the closest thing in the world to him and he knew now that he could never get that back. His world had been turned upside down and Derek didn’t have the energy left to fight his way out from the rubble.

  33

  BACK TO THE FUTURE

  The funeral had been a horrific affair, with neither Felicity’s dad nor brother in attendance. A flamboyant wreath had been sent on their behalf and was given pride of place on her white coffin. The service had been hugely contrary to Felicity and her beliefs, except for her favourite tracks that had been pumped through the sound system. As Derek had carried her coffin from the church, Coldplay’s ‘Yellow’ rang through the speakers and he thought back to the night that he and Felicity had walked to the beach. She had had so many hopes and so many dreams to pursue out in the big wide world. She was one of the good ones, one of the ones who could have had a truly special life and now she was gone. Her life had been wasted.

  Carrying her weight on his shoulders, Derek’s eyes welled up and tears drenched his cheeks as, ‘Look at the stars, look how they shine for you,’ echoed through the church. He missed her so much. He just hoped that she knew that. She was his Felicity and none of it seemed fair. Derek felt lonelier then, than he had since his mother had died. He was completely alone and the knowledge of this ran through his bones. He was numb. She was cremated.

  At the wake Beverley had just about managed to hold it together with the help of a few double G and T’s, but Derek hadn’t. Having cried continuously for the entire two weeks prior to the funeral and at the service, he was now empty, ripped of his organs and feeling very alone. He went about the funeral in a reclusive burying of the head type manner and dismissed any advances of conversation or sympathy with a rude and defensive grunt.

  The more he ran it over and over in his head, the more convinced he became that it was all his fault. Firstly, and most importantly, he was the one who had brought her the ticket in the first place. If it wasn’t for him she would never have been out there at all. Secondly, if Derek had believed her when she had told him about Janka and her slaggy ways, maybe she wouldn’t have been mad and ran out in front of a backpacker bus. And finally, there was the fact that anybody who had ever truly meant something to Derek had been killed by a mode of transport and he was becoming more and more convinced that this couldn’t just be a coincidence. Derek was rather hoping that Janka would be the next one and that she would get hit by a very hard and very fast bullet train.

  Janka had done as Derek had asked and left nearly immediately. Not before she had emptied Derek’s cash stash fro
m under the bed, as well as keeping the ring and stealing a packet of Jammy Dodgers. If Derek had had the strength, he would have kicked himself when he had found the empty shoebox discarded on the floor. He had noticed the funds decreasing more and more dramatically but he had dismissed the thought entirely. He wished he hadn’t though, as all along Janka had had him fooled. She had been the bad guy but he had been the stupid one. So now he was left with nothing but a massive house, with no friends, no partner, no Felicity. He had nothing.

  About a week after the funeral, Derek had decided that he couldn’t handle the memories inside that house any longer. He saw his grandmother outside the downstairs toilet and waiting for him at the front door. He saw Janka in his bedroom, legs splayed and lathering in the shower and he saw Felicity chatting away in the kitchen, her red hair falling into her coffee and her soft lips sucking on a biscuit. So he had decided to sell up and had managed to get his old flat in Crackerley back. Many people would be reluctant to take such a step back, but Derek was looking forward to it. The big house in Southcove had never felt like home, it was far too grand for his liking. So he was relieved when he arrived back to the familiarity of his flat.

  Much to Derek’s delight the landlord had obviously cleaned with the hope of gaining a new tenant. Little did she know that the new tenant would be the old tenant who had made the mess in the first place. A musty essence still hung stagnantly in the air, but it felt cleansed and like a fresh start.

  It hadn’t taken long for Derek to unload his nine boxes. Anything of worth that Derek had acquired since he had last lived there, had been ruthlessly claimed by Janka and Derek hadn’t had the energy to fight for it. So the only thing that had really changed was the addition of a few slightly better items of clothing and a wok.

  The wok was of little use though, as Derek had no food in the house and it was now well past seven in the evening. As soon as his stomach had started grumbling like a monster in a dustbin, he knew that a chippy was undoubtedly his best option. So he popped on his coat and trundled on down to the chip shop.

  Like nothing had changed Donna and Wesley stood behind the counter, Wesley looking miserable and Donna looking absolutely stunning.

  When Derek entered, Wesley looked suddenly to Donna, his eyes lighting up.

  ‘Hi, Derek, good to see ya, man!’ he said, as he scurried out the back naughtily.

  ‘Hi, Wes!’ Derek shouted after him. ‘Hi, Donna,’ he attempted, trying to look her in the eye.

  But Donna wouldn’t look up.

  ‘How have you been?’ Derek asked.

  She still didn’t reply, but he was persistent.

  ‘Are you okay, Donna?’ he tried again.

  ‘Fine,’ Donna barked. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Uh...uh... fish supper...please....thank you.’

  ‘I heard about your friend Felicity. I’m sorry,’ Donna said unable to look at him.

  ‘Thank you,’ Derek replied, genuinely grateful.

  ‘And your fiancée, I’m sorry for that too,’ Donna continued as she shovelled the chips violently.

  She took a deep breath before continuing to make his supper. Derek didn’t know what to say in response, but he didn’t bat an eyelid about the town’s ability to spread gossip. It had been Wesley’s sister who had passed on the news.

  When Donna turned and moved away from the counter, Derek’s mouth fell open. Her breasts were large and bulbous, just like they had always been, but now they were accompanied by a portly round belly. Derek did another take, just to make sure. But unless Donna had recently had a broken freezer and had needed to eat all of her stock, she was well and truly pregnant.

  ‘Congratulations,’ Derek called after her.

  ‘Thanks,’ Donna muttered, still unable to look at him.

  ‘I didn’t... well I didn’t know... you were trying.’

  ‘I wasn’t,’ Donna replied, looking sharply up and back down again.

  Derek shuffled awkwardly, desperately trying to think of something supportive to say but completely at a loss.

  ‘Oh, well what a lovely surprise then,’ he said, far too enthusiastically, getting a sniggering snort in response from Donna.

  There was an awkward silence, before he continued with the questions in an attempt to appear friendly.

  ‘Is it Richard’s?’ he blurted.

  ‘Richard who?’ Donna snapped, insulted.

  ‘Richard Doors. I used to go to school with him. He said he’d been...seeing you.’

  ‘I don’t know a Richard Doors.’

  ‘Yeah you do, I saw him in the street, he met you on one of those websites and said you were...uh...uh... gagging for it.’

  ‘Dick! Do you mean Dick?’

  ‘Yeah, Dick, that’s right.’

  ‘How fucking dare you! How fucking dare you! I have never and will never sleep with that man!’

  ‘Oh right. Sorry, it’s just... he said...’

  ‘Yeah, well, I didn’t, okay?’

  ‘Okay, I’m sorry,’ Derek apologised before a lofty silence ensued.

  ‘Um...um...so when will it come? I mean....when are you due?’

  ‘None of your business,’ Donna defended, before catching Wesley looking at her from behind the door. He guiltily backed off.

  ‘Sorry,’ Derek muttered longing to chuck himself of a nearby cliff.

  ‘August,’ Donna said, suddenly focused on the chips bubbling in the fat.

  ‘Oh right, quite soon then,’ Derek persisted, still overwhelmed by this final punch in the face.

  ‘Yes, conceived in November, due in August. Anymore questions?’ Donna snapped, looking at Derek in anticipation of what he would do next.

  He twitched slightly, wiped his nose on his sleeve and said, ‘Well, I’m very happy for you,’ into his chest.

  Wesley checked to see whether it was safe to enter and whispered, ‘Did you tell him?’ to Donna as he did.

  She shook her head like a nodding dog, not knowing whether she had or she hadn’t because Derek still didn’t seem to have a clue.

  ‘Great news isn’t it’ Derek forced, speaking to Wesley.

  ‘Yeah, it really is. How are you feeling about it?’ Wesley replied, convinced that Derek must have figured it out.

  ‘Uh...uh....um...’ Derek stammered, wondering how to answer such a peculiar question.

  Wesley looked at Donna worried that he didn’t know. Donna was one step ahead.

  ‘Derek, it’s yours,’ she blurted, unable to contain it any longer.

  ‘I’m sorry?’ Derek replied, still not there.

  ‘The baby, conceived in November....I’m not a slag you know. I don’t just....I don’t just....fuck off, Wesley!’ she said, catching sight of him poking out from behind the door again.

  She waited for a response from Derek but she didn’t get one.

  ‘Derek...it’s yours....the baby is yours,’ she repeated, looking down shamefully.

  Derek started laughing, he didn’t know why he was, but he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t until Donna looked up to find out what was so hilarious that Derek realized that she was serious

  ‘It’s mine?’ he said gobsmacked. ‘Yours and mine?’

  Donna nodded, a little tear in her eye mixed in with a bucket load of panic and confusion.

  ‘You mean you are going to have my baby? Our baby?’

  Donna continued nodding.

  ‘And you are definitely going to have it, it’s going to happen?’ Derek pressed.

  Donna nodded so hard in response that her head nearly flew into the window.

  Derek was frozen now, like a good guy in Narnia, with thoughts from the past and for the future storming his mind uncontrollably. He shifted his gaze and stared at her stupendous belly, stretched to within an inch of its life. Donna watched him anxiously, so pregnant and nervous that the odds of her bladder misbehaving were embarrassingly high. She waited and waited but he did not move.

  ‘Derek? Derek? Are you okay?’ Donna asked, worried tha
t she should have broken it to him more gently.

  Derek raised his head slowly, as if he had a sumo wrestler sitting on his scalp.

  ‘When did it...when did it...happen?’ he asked, barely able to lift his heavy tongue.

  ‘When do you think?’ Donna looked towards Derek as though he were ridiculous.

  ‘That night...was it that night?’ he stammered.

  ‘Well it certainly wasn’t the first time, was it?’ Donna muttered angrily.

  ‘So it was that night...before Felicity’s operation?’ Derek swallowed, feeling red raw as he thought of his lost friend.

  ‘I don’t know, Derek. It was the night when you ran off and left me...without a phone call....or a note....’

  ‘I tried to call, I did, but you had already left.’

  ‘I work downstairs and live down the road for fuck sake! How hard can it be to fucking contact me, eh?’

  ‘But Richard said....well I thought you didn’t want me to. Richard said...and I just couldn’t bring myself to look at you. But I came in and left a note,’ Derek rushed, desperate to prove himself to her.

  ‘I know,’ Donna said, her voice beginning to crack. ‘But you were too late and I just didn’t know how to tell you.’

  Tears were streaming from her eyes. Her breath was short and her voice was wobbly.

  ‘You really...you...really hurt...me, Derek,’ she cried, catching her breath between words.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, looking desperately into her eyes and then looking down at her enormous belly.

  There was an awkward silence as they met and broke each other’s gaze a million times, before Derek finally spoke.

  ‘Can I be its Dad?’ he asked, more innocently than the foetus itself.

  Donna’s uptight face relaxed into a toothy grin

  ‘Really?’ she asked, unable to believe that it was finally happening.

  ‘Yes, please! Yes please!’ Derek screamed, as he did a funny little leprechaun jig before throwing himself over the counter, arriving face first into her milk factories.