‘She gets a bit tetchy, huh?’
‘Tetchy? Tetchy is about seven levels down from what Abbie gets. I even warned Miller he was best staying in New York this weekend. She’s terrifying when she’s ranting at the oven.’
‘I’m so glad they’re back together.’
‘Me too,’ Georgie agreed with a smile. ‘So that’s three of us out of the four on our lane sorted with a love life, just you to go. We need to come up with a karaoke-related injury that requires you to get urgent medical attention.’
‘You could smack me in the face with the microphone?’ I suggested.
We made our way up to the village hall, laughing at accident-related song suggestions. The car park was already nearly full, the sound of laughter and chatter drifting out through the open doors and windows. It was a balmy summer’s evening, the type of night you’d imagine everyone would be having friends over for a barbeque. The whole village wasn’t coming for the quarterly karaoke night, as I’d definitely caught a whiff of burning burgers in the air as we’d made our way here. Georgie insisted on treating me to the entrance fee and first drink from the bar, then we headed into the main hall.
‘Cooee, girls, over here,’ Daphne called, waving us over to join her at one of the small round bistro tables that had been dotted around the room.
‘Don’t you want to save these seats for your friends?’ I asked as we reached her.
‘I am, the two of you. Sit, sit, or I’ll be stuck with the boring old farts who are on their way over.’
I shook my head and laughed as she beamed at us when we sat down with her. ‘No Mr. Bentley tonight?’
‘We had an early dinner and a few drinks. He knows karaoke night is my time with the girls. He’s having a few of his friends over for poker.’
‘I bet he’ll be over to poke her later,’ I whisper-giggled to Georgie, then moaned as Daphne cuffed the back of my head. ‘Seriously, you have the best hearing of anyone I know, let alone a … however-old-you-are person.’
‘I have an excellent hearing aid, and they say you’re only as young as the man you feel, and Mr. Bentley’s a good few years younger than me.’
‘It’s the woman you feel,’ Georgie giggled.
‘Well, in my case, it’s the man. And he’s all man before you and your smutty mind enquire, Charlie Faulkner.’
‘Who said I was going to say anything?’ I objected, leaning in to kiss her cheek.
‘Well, you obviously need a few more sex tips. I’m getting impatient waiting for this new book of yours.’
‘Trust me, much as I love the fact that you’re still having sex, I don’t want to be hearing about it. I can come up with scenarios all on my own. And I’d probably have finished this book tonight if I hadn’t been dragged here against my will.’ I shot a look at Georgie, who pulled a face and quickly sipped on her vodka cranberry.
‘All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,’ Daphne said.
‘From what I hear, Jack’s a very happy boy,’ I tittered, making Georgie splutter her drink and Daphne cuff me again with a giggle of her own.
‘Enough with the teasing, I could teach you youngsters a trick or two. Now, do I need to risk more wear and tear of my hip hobbling over to the bar, or is someone going to fetch me another double whiskey?’ she asked as she opened her wallet.
‘Put it away,’ I told her, covering her hand with mine. ‘It’s on me. Georgie?’
‘I’ve barely started this one.’
‘Well, I may as well grab another while I’m at the bar, as it looks like the night is about to start. Double for you?’
‘Go on then, twist my arm, but then it’s soft drinks. I’ve got to be up at silly o’clock to go and help Abbie cart everything over to the fête.’
‘I’ll come and help too, I’m looking forward to my first Dilbury fête. Right, double whiskey and double vodka cranberry coming up.’
Two hours later and even I had to admit I was having fun. I’d decided to stick to cranberry juice without the vodka, Georgie too, neither of us wanting a hangover. Plus Daphne was completely wasted and it was going to require both of us to be sober to somehow manhandle her home. She was currently perched on a stool, gripping the microphone stand as she chair danced, belting out Cyndi Lauper’s Girls Just Want To Have Fun, as I pondered that she couldn’t have chosen a more fitting song. When she started on a Missy Elliot track, I watched in complete astonishment. She wasn’t even looking at the monitor as she rapped, she knew the words.
‘No dancing,’ I hollered, as she tried to get up off her seat.
‘Oh my God, she’s seriously going to break a hip,’ Georgie gasped as Daphne made it to her feet and started to shake her rump amidst a load of applause and hollering.
‘Someone needs to tell her it’s called hip-hop, not hip-pop,’ I laughed. ‘She really is about to dislocate it.’
‘I think we need to get her home, now.’
We both raced over and cut her off in her prime, flanking her as we held her up and started to make our way across the floor, with her berating us for ruining her big finale. After assuring Mr. Greggs, the village hall caretaker, that we weren’t likely to be arrested for taking his little Kawasaki Mule out onto the main road for all of about two hundred yards, he agreed to help us load Daphne into the flat cargo area at the back to save us calling Andy the cabbie out. I climbed up into the back to make sure Daphne didn’t try and make a bid for freedom, while Georgie hopped up into the passenger seat. Mr. Greggs took his place in pole position, his cheeks showing signs of an embarrassed blush due to some slightly colourful and tipsy language coming from Daphne. He started the engine and ordered us to hold tight as he made his way over the bumpy car park, Daphne in fits of giggles as she lay watching the stars up above us.
‘Honestly, if I come to this event again, I’m limiting your drinks, young lady,’ I warned her as she whooped when Mr. Greggs made it onto the main road and put his foot down, looking as if he was committing a cardinal sin. I half expected him to do the sign of a cross on his chest.
‘Then I’d just smuggle in my own again,’ she hooted.
‘You little minx,’ I laughed, snatching her handbag up to find an empty flask in there, which smelled suspiciously like whiskey. ‘I knew you were too drunk for the amount of shorts we’d got for you.’
‘Girls just wanna have fun,’ she yelled, waving her hands in the air.
‘I’m going to be arrested for disturbing the peace,’ groaned Mr. Greggs as he hooked a right to head down Church Lane, running his hand over his head as Georgie giggled.
‘You know what they say about bald men?’ Daphne shouted.
‘Do we want to?’ I asked, cringing on Mr. Greggs’ behalf for whatever was about to come out of her mouth.
‘Their head’s a solar panel for a sex machine,’ she chortled. I burst out laughing and Georgie buried her face in her hands as Mr. Greggs’ face went even pinker.
‘Well, you won’t be testing out that claim, or we’ll have Mr. Bentley threatening him with a dual at dawn. We’re getting you to bed to sleep this off. Alone.’
‘You’re no fun tonight,’ Daphne huffed, grabbing her chest as Mr. Greggs turned right to head down our bumpy lane. I quickly did the same, not wanting to risk a couple of black eyes.
‘You’ve had plenty of fun for one night. Besides, if we weren’t enough fun, you’d be hanging out with people your own age.’
‘Never got why she hangs out with you youngsters,’ Mr. Greggs tutted with a disapproving shake of his head.
‘They remind me of my daughter. I miss her, so much,’ Daphne sighed, her eyes glistening as a shaft of silvery moonlight reflected off them.
‘Now I know how drunk you are,’ Georgie called over her shoulder. ‘I’m no fan of Roger, but last time I checked, he was still a son and not a daughter.’
‘Not … Roger. Evelyn. My beautiful Evelyn.’
‘You don’t have a daughter called Evelyn, Daphne,’ I said gently, reaching for her h
and as her bottom lip started to wobble.
‘Not … not anymore. She died in childbirth. I remember it like it was yesterday. I miss her terribly,’ Daphne sniffed, some tears trickling from her eyes to meander down the wrinkles on her face. I shot a look at Georgie, who pulled a face and shook her head. Obviously this was news to her as well.
‘I’m so sorry to hear that,’ I said as I squeezed her hand in mine. ‘You’ve never mentioned her before, Daphne.’
‘I’m not allowed to. Sssshhhh, I’m not supposed to talk about it. Don’t you go telling anyone, promise me? Promise me you won’t say anything to anyone?’ she begged, her face quickly changing to one of fear as she held my gaze.
‘Of course we won’t, but you know that you can talk to us about it whenever you want, right?’ I said, wondering why on earth she couldn’t discuss it. If she’d buried it as a way of not upsetting her husband, then surely she could talk freely about it now that David had died.
‘No talking about it. Forget I said anything, please?’ she pleaded as Mr. Greggs pulled onto her drive.
‘Ok,’ I nodded as I bent over to kiss her cheek, feeling puzzled. ‘Your secret’s safe with us.’ I looked at Georgie again, to find her frowning, as confused as I was at this revelation.
Mr. Greggs pulled down the guard at the back of his utility vehicle and I hopped out, and the three of us stood looking at Daphne lying there, trying to work out the most dignified way of getting her out.
‘I think I’ll have to use the tilt hydraulics to lift the top end of the cargo bed,’ he said. ‘It will tip up and she’ll slide out. You’ll need to catch her, stop her landing on the ground.’
‘How about you show Georgie what to do and you and I catch Daphne? We might need a bit of muscle.’
‘Mr. Bentley has plenty of muscle,’ Daphne giggled, the giggle turning into an unexpected cackle, which was quickly followed by a round of uncontrollable laughter. Well, she was definitely drunk, to go from laughter to almost tears and back to laughter in the space of a minute.
‘Did you know she had a daughter?’ Georgie asked him quietly.
‘Whole village did, lovely girl she was, pretty as a picture. There was some talk about the scandal, as she was pregnant and unmarried, but we never found out who the father was. After she died, Daphne and David said it was easier to deal with if they weren’t reminded of her, so folk stopped bringing her up. Truth be told, it’s the first time I’ve heard mention of her for over thirty years.’
‘How sad,’ I said, swallowing a ball of emotion as I looked at Daphne, who was laughing away to herself as she gazed up at the sky. Maybe that was why she loved hanging out with us, it really did remind her of her relationship with Evelyn. ‘What happened to the baby? Did it die, too?’
‘No one knows or dared to ask,’ Mr. Greggs replied. ‘She was so upset about Evelyn that no one talked about it, just how she wanted it.’
‘She doesn’t even have any pictures of her up in her house,’ Georgie said, shaking her head.
‘Different people cope with grief in different ways,’ I shrugged. ‘Who are we to say what’s right or wrong. Come on, let’s get her into her bed. We might need your help with that as well, Mr. Greggs.’
‘Good God, the missus will kill me if she hears I’ve been out gallivanting with two young women, let alone been inside Daphne Jones’ bedroom,’ he groaned, shaking his head.
‘Well, if you don’t mention what you heard here tonight, we won’t say anything either,’ Georgie reassured him. ‘Come on, show me what button I need to press.’
I couldn’t stop giggling as Mr. Greggs and I crouched like baseball catchers, waiting for the mule to tip up enough to slide a hysterical Daphne out.
‘Woohoo, I’m flying,’ she shouted as her head started to lift, the truck shuddering and making a groaning noise as the hydraulics worked their magic.
‘Hold on to your skirt,’ I warned her, hoping she wasn’t so progressive that she’d ventured out with no knickers on, as Mr. Greggs was about to get a flash of octogenarian beaver if that was the case.
‘I’m closing my eyes,’ he said quickly.
‘No, you’re not. You won’t see her to catch her and she could break something,’ I warned him. ‘Daphne, hold your skirt, you’re about to shoot feet first out of the truck.’
‘I’m holding my handbag.’
‘Forget the bag, hold your skirt, please. I won’t tell you again.’
‘Oooh, bossy Charlie’s come out to play. I bet you’re a secret dominatrix, aren’t you?’ she said, completely ignoring my advice.
‘I’m thinking that covering my ears might be a better move,’ Mr. Greggs grunted, seconds before Daphne whooped with joy as she shot down the flatbed, her skirt gathering up around her waist. I’d never been so happy to see such an unsexy pair of large, matronly, flesh-coloured knickers, as we launched ourselves forwards to stop her from hurtling to the ground.
‘Told you, Charlie. Never a dull moment in Dilbury,’ Georgie laughed as we struggled to get Daphne into an upright position and manoeuvre her towards her gate. ‘I think I’d better sleep over here tonight and keep an eye on her.’
‘I think that might be best,’ I agreed, as Mr. Greggs yelped when Daphne’s free hand found its way to his bottom and gave it a squeeze.
The Next Day – Fête Day
‘Abbie, seriously, I think we need to call the first aiders over,’ I gasped. She’d been farting all morning, except farting was a polite way of describing the noises she’d been emitting, along with some blue language. It had been funny to start with, but seeing her doubled up in pain was starting to worry me.
‘It … will … pass,’ she whimpered, letting out another series of horrendous noises. Passing definitely didn’t seem to be the problem. She’d expelled more gas than an active volcano this morning.
‘Sing,’ Daphne said firmly to Georgie.
‘How’s that going to help her?’ she exclaimed.
‘I’m telling you to sing, not Abbie. We can’t serve people food while she’s playing a symphony of trumps in the background. You have a lovely voice, Georgie, drown her out.’
‘Talk about putting me on the spot,’ Georgie complained.
‘Yes, come on Georgie, sing,’ I urged as Abbie fell to the floor, trying to drown out the noises escaping her bottom with a series of curses.
‘Yes, Georgie, come on, sing for us.’
I turned around, wondering who the deep and sexy voice belonged to, and bounced my eyes between the good-looking guy and Georgie, who looked completely stunned.
‘Weston? What are you … I had no idea you’d be coming today,’ she uttered. So this was Weston. Wow, the girls sure had great taste in men.
‘I thought I’d surprise you, but by the noises coming from the tent, it sounds like I picked a bad time.’
‘Georgie, for goodness sake, sing,’ Daphne repeated. ‘Drown her out.’
‘Oh my God,’ I giggled, hastily covering my ears. The sounds coming from behind us were horrific, and everyone in the queue was starting to take notice. I soon had to drop my hands to clutch my sides as I roared with laughter when Daphne leapt to her feet and started singing Kelis’s Milkshake, complete with some hilarious dance moves and pelvic thrusts that I’d had the pleasure of witnessing for the first time the previous night. Georgie just watched, dumbfounded, and the same look appeared on her boyfriend’s face, his mouth ajar.
‘Help me,’ Abbie mewled from behind us.
‘Charlie, you serve while Daphne entertains. Weston, go and grab a beer and I’ll be with you in a while. Abbie needs me.’
‘Can I do anything?’ Weston asked, while I reluctantly moved behind the table, closer to the danger zone. Sugar-free gummi bears may be sweet going in, but they didn’t smell sweet coming out.
‘Honestly, that’s really sweet and I’m sure you could with your skill set,’ Georgie replied, ‘but this is kind of a sensitive deal and I think it would embarrass Abbie if you came back
here.’
‘I won’t be far. You call me if you need me, no matter what, ok?’ Weston ordered.
‘Clear,’ Georgie nodded.
‘Wow, hot and bossy, I like him already,’ I murmured.
‘Find your own, he’s taken,’ Georgie grinned, quickly turning her attention to Abbie as I waved the next customer forwards and shot Daphne an amazed look as she launched into Missy Elliot’s Get Ur Freak On. Who on earth had given her such eclectic music taste?
‘That’s five pounds please, Mr. Spalding,’ I said as I bagged up his jam and cookies.
‘What on earth is going on back there?’ he asked.
‘Abbie’s just practicing the trumpet, she’s thinking of joining the village band,’ I said.
‘Well, she needs a lot more practice judging from that,’ he scoffed as he moved away.
‘I’m actually thinking her stopping would be an even better idea,’ I said under my breath as I desperately tried not to inhale the toxic smell filling the tent. I carried on serving, noticing that Daphne was drawing quite a crowd, which sort of defeated the object of her trying not to bring any attention to Abbie’s predicament.
‘Charlie, move everyone back. Now!’ Georgie barked. ‘We need privacy.’ I turned my head, wondering what was going on, and saw her grab one of the spare tablecloths, opening it out to shield Abbie from our sight. ‘Go, Abbie.’
‘I can’t shit in a box on the front lawn of Lord Kirkland’s manor,’ Abbie wailed. ‘Not after last year. It will be known as turdgate the sequel. Just when you thought it was safe, Abbie strikes again.’
‘You don’t have a choice. No one can see you but me. Do it. Daphne, seriously?’ Georgie uttered as Daphne started Europe’s The Final Countdown, rapping out the drum sections with some serving tongs and miming air guitar between, as my shoulders shook from the effort of not giving in to a fit of laughter.
‘Give us about half an hour, everyone. Abbie’s brewing up another batch of sauce for the last of the scones,’ I suggested as I quickly skipped around the table to herd everyone away from the tent and gulp down some welcome fresh air. Georgie called me back inside and asked me to run home and get some moist toilet wipes, which she kept in her cloakroom, so I started running across Lord Kirkland’s lawn, making it as far as the koi pond before I had to slow down to a jog. I was panting by the time I made it to Georgie’s house and seriously considering giving up pizza, I was so out of breath. I swiped up the packet of wipes and began the long trek back. I really did need to get fit if I couldn’t even manage running home and back in one go. I handed over the wipes, hardly daring to ask what had happened, before turning to start packing away the remaining food items on Georgie’s instructions.
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