life, but it was his own fault, as he should have put his foot down years ago. Raymond rested his head against the seat. The evening sun and cool breeze felt lovely against his skin. He shut his eyes, deep in thought.
Eddie had rung him earlier at the scrapyard. He’d told him to make sure he definitely came tonight, as he wanted to have a chat with him about work.
‘Don’t worry, you ain’t done nothing wrong. What I’ve got to say is all good,’ Eddie assured him.
Raymond had been employed by Eddie since he was eighteen years old and he’d always worked bloody hard. He had left school at sixteen with medium qualifications and high hopes of getting a record deal with his band. It hadn’t happened and, with his dreams shattered, Raymond had given up his music career and taken on a job as a trainee butcher. From the word go, he hated the job. The smell was disgusting, the sawdust they put on the floor got down his throat and the sight of dead animals turned his guts. Listening to his complaints one day, Eddie had offered him a lifeline.
‘I need someone to work in the salvage yard. I’ll give you the address – go down there first thing Monday morning and ask for Pete. I’ll tell him to expect you.’
Raymond had started work there that day and had never looked back since. He no longer resembled a skinny little rock star. The physical nature of the job had given him muscles he had never known existed. His mother had been embarrassing him lately whenever her friends came round.
‘Look at my Raymond. Six foot tall and built like a brick shithouse, ain’t he?’ she’d say proudly. ‘Nothing like his father.’
‘Left here and then left again, Stanley,’ Joyce yelled, making Raymond jump out of his skin.
Annoyed at yet again being told what to do, Stanley drove the Cortina along his daughter’s drive at speed and then slammed his foot on the brake. Seeing Joyce’s head nearly hit the dashboard, he chuckled as he got out.
‘You silly old bastard, you’ve nearly bloody killed me. I bet I’ve got whiplash now because of you.’
Holding the door open for his wife, Stanley winked at Raymond. ‘I’m so sorry, dear. It’s these new shoes you bought me, my foot must have slipped.’
As Frankie and Joey ran out to greet their nan, Joyce’s whiplash was forgotten.
‘Hello, my babies. Give your nanna a big kiss.’
Joey clung to one of her hands and Frankie the other. ‘Have you brought us any presents, Nanny?’ Frankie asked bluntly.
‘Yep, but you can’t have them till after your dinner.’
Playfully scolding her daughter, Jessica welcomed her family. ‘So lovely to see you all. Cheekier by the day, my Frankie’s getting. Take no notice of her,’ she laughed.
Once inside the house, Joyce took it upon herself to give her husband and son the grand tour. Both of them had seen the house before, but not in its finished state. ‘Look at the downstairs bathroom – marble them tiles are. Handsome, aren’t they?’
Barely giving them a chance to look, Joyce dragged Stanley and Raymond into the lounge. ‘Look at that chandelier, Stanley. Ain’t it beautiful, Raymond? Cost an absolute fortune that did. Pure crystal, it is – ain’t it, Jess?’
Hearing her husband come down from upstairs, Jessica quickly changed the subject. ‘We’re in the lounge. Can you get everybody a drink, Ed?’
Eddie beamed as he kissed Joyce and shook hands with both Stanley and Raymond.
‘Sorry, I was on the phone, I didn’t know you’d all arrived. Now, what can I get you?’
‘I’ll just have a lager, Ed,’ Raymond said immediately.
‘Can I have a sherry?’ Joyce asked, with a silly giggle.
Eddie smiled at Stanley. ‘I’ve got a nice twenty-year-old Scotch for me and you to crack open, Stan.’
‘Lovely,’ Stanley said, rubbing his hands together.
‘You don’t want that, Stanley. Scotch is too strong for you. Why don’t you just have a beer?’ Joyce piped up.
‘He’ll be fine having a drop of Scotch, Joyce. Jessica’s made up the guest room for yer. Stan ain’t gotta drive, has he?’ Ed said, sticking up for him.
Not wanting to behave like an old dragon in front of Eddie, Joyce forced a smile. ‘Go on then, but take it easy, Stanley. I don’t want you getting drunk and showing me up, like you have in the past.’
‘Can I sit on your lap, Grandad?’ Joey asked him.
Stanley smiled as his grandson plonked himself on his lap. He loved the twins and prided himself on being a good grandad. He’d often taken them out for days with Joyce. They’d go for picnics, trips to the zoo and he’d teach them how to fly his pigeons.
It was just after the twins were born that Stanley had decided to make an effort with Eddie. Joyce had dragged him up the hospital and, as soon as he’d first laid eyes on Frankie and Joey, he’d gone all gooey, into grandad mode. Not wanting to miss out on their childhood, he’d had little choice other than to be polite to their father. It was hard at first, but over the years, he’d sort of got used to it.
As much as Stanley hated to admit it, Eddie did have some good points. He always stuck up for Stan when Joyce put her two penn’orth in, he’d given Raymond a half-decent job and he spent every weekend with Jessica and the children.
‘Cheers, Stan,’ Eddie said, handing him his Scotch.
Stanley thanked Eddie and watched him walk away. He could never go as far as to say he actually liked him or trusted him, but he’d learned to make the best out of a bad situation. Eddie was OK, in a very-small-dose kind of way.
Eddie lifted up Frankie and swung her around above his head. ‘You ain’t heard who’s bought that big white house, have you, Jess?’ he asked.
‘Put me down, Daddy,’ Frankie said giggling.
Jessica smiled at him. ‘What, that massive place down the road here?’
‘Yeah, that’s the one. I’ve just made a few phone calls, but no one knows who’s got it.’
Hearing a commotion out the back, Jessica stood up. ‘I’ll ask down the school, see if anyone knows. Ed, you’d better go out in the garden. Gary and Ricky are fully clothed in that swimming pool, they’re fighting with one another, I think.’
Stanley and Joyce both looked at one another in horror. They didn’t agree on much in life, but the one thing they both thought was what uncontrollable, rude little toerags Eddie’s eldest sons were.
‘I’m just gonna check on the meat,’ Jessica said brightly.
Joyce stood up and looked out the back. ‘I didn’t know them little bastards were gonna be here,’ she said to Stan.
Frankie smiled. ‘What is a bastard, Nanny?’
Stanley stood up and picked up his granddaughter. ‘Basket, Frankie. Nanny said she didn’t know Mummy had a basket here.’
Hearing the voices of Gary and Ricky, Stanley handed Frankie to Joyce. ‘I dunno about you Joycie, but I most certainly need another drink.’
Joyce smiled with rare affection at her husband. ‘Me too, and make it a large one, Stanley.’
EDDIE CARVED UP the roast beef, while his wife brought in the side dishes.
‘I’ll just serve up a little plate for Frankie and Joey and the rest of yous can help yourselves,’ Jessica said.
Making sure everybody had enough meat on their plates, Eddie opened a couple of bottles of wine.