Week 25 - Rocket Man

During the first week in November I saw more and more of Heather. She had this knack of appearing every time I During the first week in November I saw more and more of Heather. She had this knack of appearing every time I was feeling down which was quite a lot lately. Heather's mum had not been well and this was the reason Heather gave for deciding to remain in England. I hadn't realised how ill her mum actually was and perhaps I had been too engrossed in my own problems to actually be listening to what Heather was saying. Heather always had a smile and hug for me and I loved to just look down into her brown eyes. For some reason, I was keeping this new special friend away from my family. It wasn't that I didn't want them to know that I was moving on from Becky; but I was happy to keep Heather just for me. Mind you the picture of us kissing that appeared in the Sunday paper did not help to keep the secret. For some reason my parents decided never to ask questions about Heather. Mind you I never asked questions about me and Heather either. It just felt really natural when we were together. I also decided not to tell Heather about Nan's Will and the fact that marrying Becky could make me one hundred thousand pounds.

Walsall Council Leisure Department invited me back in for a chat on the morning of Bonfire Night. I had left Heather asleep naked in my bed after we had both drunk too much wine last night to be able to drive Heather back. I liked having Heather in my bed, especially naked, but apart from often stroking each other nothing ever happened. I had thought about this quite a bit and was unsure if I felt I was being unfaithful to Becky or was just waiting too long for Heather to give me a sign. The dilemma was that I didn't want to get it wrong and ruin the only real friend I had left at the moment. Perhaps after being so badly let down by both Pete and Becky I was deliberately holding back from Heather. The problem was I had no idea how Heather felt about me and now her mum was very ill; it just didn't seem the right time. It would be really insensitive to make a move when she was just wanting a friend. Then there was her 'former' lover Jean Pierre. In all the films French men are great lovers. How was Jon an English Stadler going to compare?

Sitting opposite Tracey from Human Resources I just couldn't read her face to see what my fate was going to be. She tried to be comforting and put on a caring voice but avoided all eye contact. I tried to help by smiling at her to help the many uncomfortable moments. But this probably just made me look more like a madman. Tracey seemed to have quite a large folder on me that included some of my clippings from the newspaper. She repeatedly said that I had the full support of Walsall Council. Was she about to end my suspension?  I really couldn't tell, but decided that this was all too difficult to deal with.  Making probably another bad decision in my life, I decided that I didn't want to return to work and have to answer lots of questions about my private life - especially from 'bluenoses' in wheelchairs. I surprised Tracey by standing up, shaking her hand, offering my resignation and walking out of Walsall Council Leisure department for good. I could see the relief in her face and for once I just felt like not being the usual responsible Jon. For the first time in my life, I was going to be unemployed and really didn't care. I wasn't responsible to anybody and wouldn't even have to tell my mum for a few weeks.

As I walked back to my car I took my Walsall Council Identity Card and threw it high into the air and watched as it landed in a garden behind the Council car park. I was free from the most mundane job I had ever had. I could just go home now and maybe ravish Heather in my bed. Why should Pete be the only one who is allowed to be irresponsible with his life and bonk anyone he wants to? Just then Tracey from Human Resources came racing after me. Maybe she was going to declare her undying love for me?  No, she just wanted to ask for my Walsall Council Identity Card back. So a few minutes later I was knocking on the door to house number 272 to ask them if I could have my Identity Card back from in their garden. The old man who answered the door just looked at me as if I was mad before slamming the door in my face and mumbling "bloody council".

On my way home I stopped to buy a box of fireworks so things with me and Heather really could go with a bang. I was rather surprised at how expensive fireworks had become and even ended up paying twenty pounds for a rocket. It did promise to create an explosion of colour in the sky. It was a rather large rocket that only just fitted inside my sporty car. I was also concerned that it said “please stand fifty feet away after lighting”. I wasn't quite sure where I was going to light it but kept thinking how much Nan would have loved it. I also thought how normally I could delegate the job of lighting it to Pete. Why had he ruined our friendship?

Back at home I was pleased to see that the small figure of Heather was still asleep in my bed. I decided, after putting the rather large rocket and other fireworks in the wardrobe, to just strip off and get back into bed. I suppose now I was unemployed I would have to get used to this. Even though she was in a deep sleep, Heather had a radiant smile and wrapped herself around me. She seemed so special and I decided that I was going to admit my feelings for her under a very expensive firework tonight. The smell of Heather was becoming one of my favourite smells. Even when she wasn't wearing her expensive sounding French perfume she had a natural smell that seemed so homely. How had I got to this place? My married life with Becky had been so planned but now three months later I had lost my bride, my best friend, my Nan and now my job. The strange thing was that today I just didn't care; I just wanted some happiness.

              

After an hour of just lying there Heather woke up and just kissed me lightly on the lips. I decided to give this special lady breakfast in bed. I went to the kitchen to see how many days past its sell-by date the bacon was and if the stale bread would be ok if toasted. My search for edible breakfast ingredients was halted by the sound of the postman pushing some letters through my letterbox. I went to investigate and found three letters. Two were obviously bills but the third one was in a purple envelope and hand written. The writing on the purple envelope looked familiar and I opened it nervously. As I thought; it was from Becky and started 'Dear Jon...'

                                                        

Week 24 - Nan Games

I had never been to a Will reading before and was slightly disappointed that my first one would be on a day when my head was spinning around more than it had ever done before. The card from Becky, seeing Pete, meeting Aunt Gladys and saying farewell to one of the most important people in my life had all been too much. It was difficult to know where I wanted to be most at the moment, it certainly wasn’t in that old dusty long solicitor’s office. I would give anything to just be lying next to Becky again with her feet stroking my legs and the feel of her eyelashes touching my cheek. Or to just be having a pre-match drink with Pete as we had so many times before he wrecked our friendship. Perhaps I just wanted again to sit in a smelly Old Peoples’ Home chatting to my slightly mad old Nan with the Antiques Roadshow in the background. My world had somehow collapsed in the last four months and I was losing key characters in my life at an alarming rate. My head was now full of questions; Who would be next? How long will I have my parents for? Will I end up old and alone with no friends and no-one special in my life?

My whole life had become a soap opera which even included weekly updates on the front page of a Sunday newspaper. How could Pete, somebody I trusted totally, have torn my life to pieces like this? Strangely all my anger was now aimed at Pete and even though it takes two to tango I saw Becky as the innocent party. I had seen Pete's handy work with girls so many times before that; could I really expect Becky to resist if Pete went into Pete mode? My head was now spinning so much it felt like it was about to shoot off my neck completely. I have always been the mild one of the Sadler family, which is saying a lot when you consider how laid back my Dad is, but now I just wanted to hit somebody hard repeatedly. How dare Pete turn up to my Nan’s funeral!

The spectacled gentleman read my Nan’s Last Will and Testament, but I just wasn’t taking it in. Instead I was staring at a painting hanging on the wall. The painting was quite disturbing as it was a lion in the middle of devouring an antelope. As I studied the picture I saw different couples of people in it playing the role of the animals. At first Pete was the lion and I was the antelope. Then it was Becky’s turn as the antelope being ripped to pieces by Pete. It was as I was seeing Nan as the lion and Mr Singh as the antelope that I suddenly became aware that the sum of Nan’s estate was a considerable amount. The total that I think the seriously looking spectacle wearing man had mentioned was over two hundred and fifty thousand pounds. This stunned the whole room. I mean that was the price that the Villa paid for the great Paul McGrath.

For the first time I became aware of who was actually in the room. There were my parents, Karen, Uncle Martin, Uncle Henry, cousin Michael, another nine cousins including Billy the extremely camp one who was wearing a purple cravat, Mr Singh, two elderly gentlemen both with white beards and strangely, Aunt Gladys. I was actually the youngest there but probably the only one who really got Nan. She tried to treat all her grandchildren the same but I suspected many of them probably wouldn’t even have known the way to her Old Peoples’ Home. As each of the cousins got mentioned in the Will it appalled me to see them smile and even offer celebratory gestures as they found out their credit card bills were going to be a thing of their past. Each of them would be going home with at least ten thousand pounds. All I wanted was my Nan to walk back in the room. She always laughed so much at ‘Game for a Laugh’ and I couldn’t help thinking how brilliant it would be if twin Aunt Gladys suddenly jumped up, declared she was really Nan and that this had all been a joke. Unfortunately that wasn’t going to happen and Nan would not be making an unexpected appearance. I was slightly disappointed with the serious way that this Will was being presented. I had half expected Nan might have made one of those American Soap style videos. It would have been good if she could have got somebody famous to read the Will. I imagined it being read by Lenny Henry dressed as an old lady!

Karen caused a few looks of disgust from the other cousins, including a flick of the head from cousin Billy, when it was revealed that she would be getting a cottage in Leominster that none of us even knew Nan had. Well, apart from Mr Singh, who shockingly disclosed that he and Nan had often escaped to the cottage for nights of wild passion. Then both the old bearded men shouted out in unison “And me”. The two gentlemen were apparently called Bruce and Arnie and they were the next to be mentioned. They were to have Nan’s antique Chess table with Star Wars character chess pieces. The proviso was that they would have to play one game of chess to decide who gets to keep it. Mr. Singh was then given my Nan’s orthopaedic bed and her box set of ‘Carry On’ films videos.

The next part of the Will was certainly a surprise. It was aimed at Gladys who out of loyalty to my Nan I had been ignoring since she appeared at the church doors. The solicitor said he had a box for Gladys but there was a note he had to read first.

“Dear Gladys, hopefully I will out-live you, but if not I would like to apologise for stealing, your then finance, Albert from you at our 18^th birthday party. I know that you never got over losing him to me so I would like to give him back to you.” The solicitor then handed a small wooden box to Aunt Gladys. It did surprise me how small the box was as I remembered Granddad as, like me, quite a tall chap.

My parents were next to find out what they would be getting and I was assuming that it was going to be a large amount of cash. Instead it was a few items of jewellery, the family Bible and two hundred BT shares. Uncle Henry also got two hundred BT shares, a collection of gentlemen’s hats and a teas-maid. So where was all the rest of the cash going? With Nan it could be to any strange charity.

As I pictured my Aunt Gladys and Nan fighting in the painting I suddenly realised that everyone had been mentioned in the Will but me. Had my Nan forgotten me or just left me until last for a reason. It was then I was given a very unexpected surprise. Nan had left me a staggering one hundred thousand pounds. Cousin Billy got up and ran out in tears and many of the other cousins fixed me with the kind of stares you associated with alien creatures in Doctor Who. Surely this couldn’t be right? Where had all this money come from and why was it heading my way? For some reason Dad felt the need to slap me on the back. It didn’t feel right. Nothing felt right. I just wanted my normal life back and more importantly I wanted my Nan back. She was worth more to me than one hundred thousand pounds. But one hundred thousand pounds would at least mean I could tell them to stuff the job at Walsall Council. Also I would enjoy taking the cheque into the snotty cashier at my bank who had rudely declined mine and Becky’s request for a fifty pound temporary overdraft on our joint account before the wedding.

We were starting to leave when a young teenage lad in a badly fitting suit walked in and hurriedly passed a brown envelope to the solicitor who was just closing his smart black brief case. The solicitor then shook his head as he read the letter he had been handed before telling us to sit back down. He was very apologetic as he explained that Nan had made a change to her Will ten days ago that he hadn’t been aware of it until now. It was only a small change he said but was extremely important.

The amendment was for me. My Nan really had had the last laugh. There was an extra condition to my inheritance of one hundred thousand pounds. Only a small point, but it read “the money is to be kept in trust and not given to Jonathan until the day that he marries Becky Holloway”. 

Week 23 - Funeral of Surprises

Lying in a bed that is only five foot long, when you are over six foot tall and a thirty year old man, sleeping is difficult, but when you add the fact that in less than ten hours time you will be going to a funeral at the Church where you were jilted and it becomes an impossibility. I had decided that I wanted to be with my parents the night before Nan’s funeral as I had been worried about my Dad. Even though it seemed for the last ten years that Dad had been the parent and not the child he was now missing his mum so much. He wasn’t the only one I really wasn’t ready to have no grandparents and I also wasn’t ready to go back inside that Church. My mind kept switching between reliving my wedding day fiasco and seeing my Nan falling to her death. Nothing seemed to make sense at the moment. The only part of my life that seemed to bring me any happiness was Heather, but I had no idea what her intentions towards me were. Heather had asked if I wanted her at the funeral, but I had said I wanted it just to be my family. Heather had been brilliant and she said she would wait for me at my flat wearing stockings and suspenders. She was probably the only thing that was keeping me vaguely sane.

According to the alarm clock it was five to three but I just couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes I kept seeing Becky in her wedding dress at the front of the Church kissing Pete. It was dreadful I just couldn’t get past this image. How could my best mate have betrayed me so much? Didn’t those years sitting together in double History mean anything? Just then I heard the sound of somebody walking around outside my bedroom door. I decided to go and investigate. It was Dad just pacing around in his unflattering paisley pyjamas. This didn’t seem like my Dad. This man just wasn’t calm and in control like my Dad he was like somebody placed on a faraway planet where suddenly nothing made sense. We sat together drinking hot milk with golden syrup in for the first time in twenty years, but just didn’t speak. We probably had so much to say that we didn’t know where to start. Then Dad did something that really shocked me. He reached out and placed his hand on mine. He then said, “Don’t make the same mistake as me Jon” and stood up and returned to his, and mum’s bedroom.

Somehow I managed to sleep and it wasn’t until a text from Heather arrived at ten past nine that I woke. The text simply read “Thinking of Jon. I will be there when you need me”. Maybe there is a future for me and Heather. If we ever do get married it certainly won’t be at St. Chad’s. What am I doing thinking about marrying Heather on the day of my Nan’s funeral at the Church where I was jilted? As he had on my nearly wedding day my Dad arrived with a bacon sandwich and cup of tea for me. It was sad to see that my familiar Villa mug had a chip on the edge. Dad seemed slightly brighter this morning but that mood soon changed when instead of his usual Daily Express the paperboy delivered a copy of The Sun. As if having the wrong newspaper wasn’t bad enough, the headline on the front page made things a whole lot worse. The headline read ‘WHO KILLED JILTED JON’S NAN’. The story seemed to suggest that the mysterious death of a frail old lady was linked to the disappearance of Becky. The whole story was total fiction. No mention of the fact that Nan was trying to climb down the drain pipe when she fell and instead seemed to suggest she was thrown from the window shortly after Jon Stadler had arrived.

The funeral hearse arrived at the house and I looked at the coffin. Surely that couldn’t be my Nan in there. I half expected to hear her banging her stick on the lid shouting to be let out as it was time for ‘Emmerdale’. There were just a bunch of white lilies on top of the surprisingly small coffin. It was also civil and just not Nan. I really didn’t want this to be goodbye. In the funeral car were Mum, Dad, Karen, Uncle Henry and me. We didn’t say a word to each other, but that wasn’t unusual lately. After ten minutes my Dad broke the silence by announcing that this afternoon we all had to go to hear the reading of Nan’s Will.

As we followed the coffin into the Church I was disappointed to see such a poor turnout. My farce of a wedding had attracted ten times this many people. At least a few of her fellow inmates from the old people’s home had turned up including Mr. Singh who was wearing a very bright lime green suit and matching turban. Also there on the back row were the two policemen who had become constant visitors to my flat. Then two rows in front of them were two press photographers. Other than that it was just the normal uninspiring family. It could really be any old ladies family. This wasn’t my Nan’s life being remembered it was somebody else’s. At least she would have found it funny the paparazzi being there. We sat on the front row on the right-hand side. Coincidentally this was the one row that had remained unoccupied at my wedding. I felt bitter, cross and slightly twisted. Most of all I just wanted my Nan with me. I tried to imagine her being there, but I just couldn’t. The Vicar was trying to get the balance right between celebrating an eventful life to respecting the sad mood. He announced the first hymn ‘The day Thou gavest, Lord, is ended’, which I always think is a funeral song although apparently it was my Granddad’s favourite. I would hate to hear a song that my Granddad thought was depressing. It was during the second verse that we were all distracted by the sound of the large oak door at the back opening. The creek it made belonged on a haunted house ride on a fair ground. As I turned round I was shocked to see the person standing there. I had to look twice because at first I really thought it was my Nan. Was I seeing things? No, it wasn’t Nan but an old lady who had all Nan’s features including Nan’s appalling dress sense. The old lady sat herself down on the row behind Mr. Singh.

“Oh no, not Gladys”, my Dad appeared to recognise my Nan’s lookalike. My Mum seemed totally in the dark though and nudged Dad in the ribs to find out more. He revealed that Gladys was Nan’s twin sister but they had had a big fallout in 1932 on their eighteenth birthday. My Dad said he would explain later as we sat down after the hymn. Uncle Henry was next doing a reading about his mother and how she had made him. If only he knew. I wonder if Dad knew that his brother Henry wasn’t his brother? I couldn’t get used to the idea Nan was dead and inside that coffin let alone that I had just gained a Great Aunt at the age of 30. Uncle Henry was just wiping a tear from his eye as there was another creek of the big wooden door. Who was it this time?

This time it was somebody from my past. Somebody I had been trying to put out of my mind. It was Pete and I couldn’t believe he was wearing the same suit that he had worn to be my best man. At least he was on his own and sat on the very back row. We didn’t exchange any glances but I did note that he seemed very shocked to see the old lady who looked like my Nan. Why was he here?  Did he want to make the day even harder for me and my family?  Well me, as nobody else in my family knew that this toe-rag had bonked his best friend’s bride.

The funeral service went as well as it could and somehow I managed to hold the tears back until the coffin was carried out to the theme tune from ‘Bullseye’. I looked up to see Pete hugging my sister Karen. Although my mind decided to play a cruel trick and replace Karen with Becky. Should I speak to the former best friend or just ignore him? In the end I walked straight past and just followed the coffin out into the car park. I sat myself in the funeral car and waited for the others.

As we travelled to the crematorium Dad filled us all in on the story of Gladys, my Nan’s elder sister by twenty-three minutes. It was obviously all new to Uncle Henry and Mum seemed really cross that it was new to her. It all made more sense when Dad told us that the first he had heard about it was when Nan had told him the day before she died. She had obviously had a few confessions to make in those final days. The story with Gladys seemed to be that at the twins’ eighteenth birthday party Gladys had made a move for Nan’s boyfriend, my Granddad. Well, actually Nan had caught the two at it behind the cake table. Apparently from that day on the two never spoken a word and a month later Gladys went to live in Coventry. My Dad did keep saying that the story might not be totally true as Nan had been a little confused at the end.

At the Crem the Vicar said a few more words as twelve of us stood watching the coffin and my Nan slowly disappear. The old lady we believed was Gladys was one of the twelve but nobody knew how she had got there. Surely the old dear didn’t drive! Pete had at least had the sensitivity not to show. As we walked through to see the flowers I was shocked to see Mr. Singh was now trying to chat up Nan’s possible twin. He seemed to be doing ok until he pinched her bottom and then felt the force of what looked a very heavy handbag. It caught him right on the chin and his ready-wrapped bright lime turban flew off.

We all stood admiring the flowers that had been sent from various people despite the newspaper clearly asking just for family flowers. One big tribute caught my eye. It was a really big heart covered with more colours than a Noel Edmonds jumper. It was with Nan’s pile but I wasn’t sure who had sent it. I leant over a read a tag. It read “Nan, I am going to really miss you. Thanks for the advice, Love Becky xx”.