by Calvin Wade
“What do you want, Will?” I shouted.
There was a shout back, but I couldn’t make it out.
“What? I can’t hear you, I’m washing my hair.”
Joey Neill’s face suddenly appeared around the shower curtain, with a devilish smile on his face. As I wasn’t expecting it, I nearly jumped out of my skin. He was only there for a couple of seconds, then he disappeared again. I switched the water off.
“For Christ’s sake, Joey,” I shouted through the shower curtain, “that was like a scene out of Psycho. What are you doing?”
“Believe me,” Joey answered, “having just seen your naked body, I can assure you it looks nothing like Janet Leigh’s.”
“Why are you in here?” I asked again.
“”I’ve come to tell you we’re going out in five minutes, so you need to get a move on.”
“Five minutes. Why?”
“The lads have decided we want to go to the Pleasure Beach for a few hours before we go back out on the beer. Are you up for it?”
“I don’t see why not, I just need to rinse this shampoo off and then I’ll get ready.”
“OK,” Joey said, “I’ll wait here and pass you a towel in a minute. By the way, how come you don’t lock your bathroom door, Simon?”
“I wasn’t expecting a visitor.”
“Hurry up and rinse it off,” Joey commanded, “the lads will be waiting.”
I quickly put the shower back on for sixty seconds, washed the shampoo off and then turned the taps off.
“Joey, pass me my towel please and then can you bugger off, so I can get ready.”
“OK, Simon, put your hand out and I’ll pass you the towel.”
“Just pass it through.”
“No, stick your hand around the shower curtain and I’ll put the towel in it.”
I must admit, I did it without thinking and without a sense of suspicion. As I stuck my right arm out, I felt something go around it and then a click. A second later, my shower curtain was unceremoniously pulled open and, instinctively, I used my left hand to cover my privates. There were about twenty pairs of male eyes crowded into my bathroom, all looking at me and smiling. I looked at my right wrist, it had a silver handcuff on it and my eyes followed the chain along to the other end, to the other handcuff, which was circled around a small blue hand. The blue hand belonged to someone who had blue body paint on them from head to toe, naked apart from a pair of dark blue trousers that matched the colour of his upper torso. He had blue hair, a blue face and huge triangular shaped blue ears. It appeared to be a child or a dwarf. He smiled at me with bright, white teeth.
“Hello, Simon,” said the small, blue person, “I have a feeling we are going to be very attached to each other for the next twenty four hours.”
Part Ten
Altogether Now
ZARA – May 2012
I’ve been on a few Hen Do’s in my time, not loads but a few. One or two of the girls from Penny Pinchers got married in the time I worked there and a couple of schoolfriends have tied the knot too. The Hen Do’s have been all over the place. I’ve been up to Newcastle and Glasgow, over to Dublin, plus there’s been a few fairly locally in Manchester and Liverpool. Every time I go on one, if it is a weekend away, I always tell myself that I should pace myself on the first night so I don’t feel like crap on the second. I have yet to follow my own advice and Friday in Blackpool was no different.
Candice’s mini bus arrived at Charnock Richard service station pretty much on time. The girls came in to meet us and they were all wearing Army camouflage vests. Emblazoned on the vests, above the breasts, in a pink section with black lettering, it simply said, ‘On A Mission’. They also all wore camouflaged caps which each had ‘Sexy Squaddie’ written on in pink lettering. Lucy knows them all, so after excitedly kissing and hugging everyone, she introduced me to Candice.
“Don’t worry, we’ve got Army camouflage outfits for you and Lucy on the minibus,” Candice announced after our initial greeting, “we’ve all got two more outfits for tomorrow too, one for the day, one for the night! Wait until you see them, they’re brilliant!” I looked at my massive suitcase and wished someone had told me this in advance.
It didn’t take long to get to Blackpool, probably only three quarters of an hour. We had a good singalong on the way, a Grease CD was on, so we sang and danced along to that. We all checked into our Guest House, ‘The Cheshire’, which was only a pretty small place. I think the landlady, Glynnis said there were eight rooms in total and we had six of them. Most of us had to share double beds but that’s OK for girls, it’s the blokes that tend to hate sharing. After checking in, dropping our suitcases off and Lucy and I quickly changing into our Army outfits, we headed out. Someone suggested we should have done something like Burlesque classes, but we were daft and decided to head straight out on the drink. Drinking early afternoon onwards in a twelve hour session is always going to lead to one or two calamities and Friday night didn’t buck that trend.
After a quick drink in town, we all headed up to St.Anne’s in taxis. One of the girls had been up there with her ex-boyfriend for some golf tournament and said it was lovely, so we all agreed to go and check it out. We tried to get a tram there from Blackpool Promenade, but they only seemed to go the other way up to Fleetwood. St.Anne’s was lovely, we probably stayed there until early evening, but we started playing drinking games and buying bottles of Desperados tequila beer, so the rest of the evening has only come back into my memory banks in bite sized portions. I don’t really remember getting the taxis back to Blackpool, nor do I remember what pubs we went to, I just remember the camouflaged outfits getting a lot of attention from the lads.
We must have slowed the pace of our drinking in Blackpool, as I remember sobering up a little when it came to discussing what club to go to. One of the girls, Emma I think, mentioned that we had free entry to a club called Sanuk and a free bottle of bubbly, as long as we were in there by midnight, so we headed across there about eleven, I think. It was a massive place, with loads of different rooms, some playing ‘RnB’ and Hip Hop, the bigger ones just playing dance anthems. I think I was mainly in the Arena, although I remember Lucy and I blagged our way into the VIP area at one point and some older blokes were letting us share their champagne. It was bouncing in the main Arena though, as far as I remember the DJ was great and I danced my butt off. At four o’clock, the music stopped and I started to panic a little as I was drunk, on my own and had no idea what the Guest House was called.
I was the first one from Candice’s Hen party to leave the club or at least I thought I was, I was certainly the first to be waiting outside. I remember marching up and down the pavement because I needed a wee but I didn’t want to go back in the toilets in the club, as when I had last been, someone had thrown up in there and given the state I was in, I was worried if I went again, the smell might make me gag. Hanging around outside a nightclub, on my own, at four o’clock in the morning, left me vulnerable to the advances of horny, drunk men. One such man, if you can call him a man, approached.
“Got a light love?”
The lad was young looking, I’d be doubtful if he was even eighteen, but he was smashed off his head. If someone as battered as I was, remembers someone else being really drunk, they must have been bad. I can’t remember what he looked like other than beer goggles weren’t enough.
“No, sorry, I don’t smoke,” I replied, in a friendly way, but hoping he’d move on to someone else.
“Do they not let you smoke?”
“Who?”
“He pointed at my camouflaged vest and cap.
“The Army.”
“Why’s that then? Does it make you less fit because you look really fit to me, love.”
“No, if you light up at night, it gives away your hiding spot to the enemy, so if you were about to shoot some terrorist baddy, they might get you first, if you smoked.”
I’m pretty sure no-one in the Army actually referred to the enemy a
s ‘baddies’, but then they don’t go out in caps saying ‘Sexy Squaddie’ either.
“Oh, right. Are you working tonight then?”
I was too tired and drunk to work out whether the lad was genuinely this stupid so just kept on talking complete bollocks.
“Yes, we were on duty in the club. Did you not see me and my mates dancing around with glow lights? We were looking for landmines.”
“Wow. I didn’t know we had landmines in Blackpool.”
“We haven’t found any yet.”
“Do you fancy coming back to mine for a party? My Mum and Dad are on holiday.”
“You’re going to tell me it’s just a party for two next, aren’t you?”
“Have we already had this conversation?”
“I have. Just not with you.”
“So are you coming?”
“No, I’m off back to my Army home soon.”
“The barracks.”
“That’s it. I’d forgotten what it was called. Thanks for reminding me. The barracks.”
“”Definitely not coming with me?” said the drunken kid, giving it one last shot.
“I can’t. The Sergeant Major won’t let me. You could be in the Taliban.”
“I’m not. I’m actually out of work at the moment.”
“Hope you get something sorted, but I think you best get off home.”
“Alright then,” he said a little dejectedly, “thanks for helping the heroes.”
I watched the lad stagger along the road, zig zagging unsteadily. He only made it about twenty metres along before having to sit down and prop himself up against a wall. He tried to get back up a couple of times, but couldn’t manage it. He reminded me of a fly in its last moments after being sprayed with fly spray.
I turned around to see if any familiar faces were leaving Sanuk and as I did so, I was relieved to see one of the other girls in Army uniform coming out the club appearing scarily sober.
“It’s Zara, isn’t it?” she said.
I had to get an apology in straight away.
“I’m really sorry, I don’t remember your name.”
“It’s OK, I’m Sam.”
“Where are they all, Sam?”
“I think we’re the last ones, Zara. I’ve just spent the last ten minutes trying to persuade Candice not to go back to a place called Poulton with Ziggy, but she still went.”
“Who’s Ziggy?”
“A lad she met in the Club.”
“Bloody hell! She’s getting married in three weeks!”
“I know. She says she’ll change when she’s married.”
“She best had or she won’t be married long.”
“What about Lucy?” Sam asked,” Where’s she?”
“She’ll have tapped off too. She told me she was going to the loo and I lost her, but I know what she’s like. She’ll have spotted someone she took a shine to.”
“What about everyone else?” I asked.
“A few of them went back earlier with Sara as she said she was going to be sick. Emma and Vicky didn’t make it back out of St.Anne’s because they were getting chatted by a pair of fellas and didn’t want to leave when we did.”
“Do you have any idea where we are staying, Sam?”
“Follow me,” said Sam, “I’ve got a good sense of direction.”
Sam did have a good sense of direction too. We were back at ‘The Cheshire’ (Sam reminded me of the name), within five minutes. I clumsily walked straight in on Lucy, switching the light on to find her stood at the bottom of her bed, bent over it, with a man directly behind her, helping her do it. They were only partially clothed.
“Sorry!” I said switching the light back out and hurrying out the room.
Thankfully, Sam was sharing a room with Candice, so I caught her up on the landing and slept in their room.
As the room swayed gently, I remember reflecting that there had been a lot of high jinks but I had not been a part of it. I would have to text Flo in the morning and tell her how well I had been behaving. She would be pleased with me. Perhaps I was finally growing up.
ZARA – May 2012
Sam snored so I didn’t have the greatest night’s sleep of my life. I kept checking the time on my mobile and at half eight, I thought I may as well go down for some breakfast, then try and get some sleep later, Sam looked like she was flat out, so I left her sleeping. When I arrived in the dining area, three of the girls in our party were there already, Sara and two others. There was a fourth place on their table, so I took it. Glynnis, the landlady, and her husband were flying in and out of the kitchen like housemartins flying to and from their nest.
“Good morning!” Glynnis said, “Can I get you some tea or coffee?”
“Tea, please.”
“Would you like white or brown bread for your toast?”
“White, please.”
“OK, love. I’ll bring them over and I’ll ask what you would like for your Full English then.”
“Thank you, Glynnis.”
Glynnis headed back to the kitchen. The four of us were the only guests that were in there.
“Good morning, ladies! How is everyone feeling?” I asked.
Everyone answered at once with ‘shit’, ‘crap’ and ‘not good’.
“I feel like death too,” I said empathising with their plight, “I’m going to have my breakfast and then go back to bed for a couple of hours. It’s been hard to sleep though, as I ended up with Sam, as Lucy invited a young man to share our room with her. Unfortunately Sam snores like Pinocchio with a cold.”
The three girls laughed.
“Our Lucy’s a bit of a one, isn’t she?” Sara observed, “I haven’t been on a Hen Do yet where she hasn’t managed to get herself a man by the end of the evening. She’ll have another one tonight, so if I were you, I’d get back early and pretend you’re asleep if she brings a bloke back.”
“I’m not sure that would work, Sara,” I explained, “she would probably carry on regardless!”
The blonde, skinny looking girl sitting next to Sara, who always looked serious, decided to put her opinion forward.
“Nothing wrong with a woman enjoying sex. If Lucy wants to enjoy herself with some male friends before she settles down, that is her prerogative.”
“I agree. Lucy’s single, she can do what she wants.” I said, whilst starting to tuck into my toast that Glynnis had brought over, “I did think it was off though that Candice ended up getting a taxi back to Poulton with some lad. I mean, sleeping around when you’re single, that’s fair enough, but sleeping around three weeks before you get married, on your own Hen Do, that’s got to be crossing the line.”
All three of the other girls already had their Full Breakfasts, but they all stopped and for several uncomfortable seconds, just stared at me. I started to get a complex.
“What’s the matter?” I asked, “Do I have something on my face?”
I rubbed and checked. There was nothing.
“Perhaps we didn’t finish the introductions yesterday, Zara,” the skinny blonde said.
“I’m Debbie, this is Sara and this is Amy. We are Patrick’s sisters.”
“Who’s Patrick?” I asked naively. I should have worked it out.
“Patrick is the groom. Our brother is marrying Candice in three weeks time.”
TIMMY ANDERSON – May 2012
Joey Neill was fortunate that I had an empty weekend when he rang to book me for Simon Strong’s Stag Do. From Easter to late September, I am booked out most weekends as ‘The Blue Goblin’ and have been for five years now. After the summer season finishes, Christmas work kicks in and I tend to find work in Santa’s Grotto’s or in pantomimes. As a young adult dwarf, I would never have considered manipulating my lack of height, but I learnt to be thicker skinned and I now make around £60 000 a year net profit from working a two or three day week, which, in the midst of a credit crunch, is pretty damn good.
I advertise nationally and tend to spend most weekends i
n Northern English cities or in Dublin. Most gigs in Dublin are still as ‘The Blue Goblin’, but I charge £250 extra if the Stag Party want me to dress as a leprechaun, as I am not comfortable with it. I am not Irish and understandably, I don’t feel it sits well with them.
When I took the booking for a Stag Do in Blackpool and it was mentioned that the Stag was an Euxton male called Simon, I did wonder if there was any way it could be Simon Strong. I persuaded myself it was unlikely, but when I was being hidden on the back seats of the coach and there was bizarrely a kick off between Simon and Luke ‘Boffin’ Booth, it was almost like being back in Parklands playground twenty five years earlier. I had never forgotten the favour that Simon had done me when we were children.
Every Stag Do I go to, I am handcuffed to the Stag, that is the deal I am signing up to and what I earn my crust from doing. With Joey Neill’s booking, as it was a 24 hour booking rather than a 48 hour one, Joey was keen to make the most of me for the full 24 hour period. He wanted me handcuffed to Simon at the earliest possible opportunity. In the main, I am pretty compliant with requests from the men with the money. I don’t come cheap, so when Joey said twenty of the lads were going to ambush Simon’s room and handcuff him, I was always going to be happy to run with it. It transpired Simon was in the shower, so they ambushed him there. Simon seemed to take the wind up in good spirits but Stag’s often do, it is only when they begin to realise the full extent of what they are being subjected to, several hours later, that their calmness turns to anger.
I had a gut feeling from the outset that this was destined to be one of the more memorable 24 hour periods in my job. I just wish now that this sixth sense would adapt and learn to give me more of a warning as to why. One thing is for certain, I definitely earned my money that weekend.
SIMON – May 2012