appointment.
“Can I help you?” asked the rather effeminate man at the counter.
Danny cleared his throat. “I have an appointment with someone named Cyril?”
The man eyed him. “I’m Cyril,” he said. “Where is the second member of your party?”
“Not here yet,” said Danny, feeling like he was stating the obvious.
After ten minutes, there was still no sign of Albert. This worried Danny. Maybe their recent cooling relationship had led Albert to pull out. But just as Cyril was taking an uncomfortably long time over the measurement of Danny’s inside leg, Albert walked through the door.
“Looks like your luck has changed, son,” Albert remarked.
Danny was delighted to see his best man. He smiled with relief. “All right, Albert?” he said.
Cyril swept disapproving eyes over Albert’s tramp-like appearance. He became a touch frosty and less effeminate.
“Take a seat, sir,” he said. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”
Albert waited as Danny was wrestled into various outfits. Every now and again he gave an approving wolf whistle.
“So the black tailcoat, striped trousers and grey waistcoat?” said Cyril after Albert and Danny had debated the options.
“Works for me,” said Albert.
Albert proved to be a rather more difficult project than Danny. He had the habit of stretching out his arms, so that the sleeves of the tailcoats he tried climbed halfway up his forearms.
“Please sir,” said Cyril irritably. “You won’t be walking around with your arms outstretched.”
Albert shrugged his shoulders. “Monkey arms,” he said.
At long last, a reasonable fit was found, identical to Danny’s. It had to be said, Albert looked transformed and rather dapper. Mission accomplished, Danny put a deposit down. The now giggling pair left a bemused Cyril in his top-hat-and-tails world.
*
“So Danny,” said Albert. “You want a stag night? It’s only right. Last night of freedom and all that.”
Danny, with a little trepidation, agreed.
“You leave the arrangements in the almost safe hands of me and Lenny,” Albert said soothingly. “Next Friday night? Seven o’clock kick-off at the Live and Let Live.” And he mock-punched Danny’s jaw.
Walking to work at the pub that evening, Albert started to think about the entertainment for Danny’s stag night. A traditional stripper, maybe a night up the West End, perhaps a flutter in a casino.
At the bar of the Live and Let Live, Lenny was knocking back a Guinness laced with a dash of Jamaican rum.
“How about we organise a Caribbean night?” he suggested when Albert asked him for ideas. “You know, with straw hats, colourful shirts and plenty of rum chasers. We can have a limbo contest, you know: how low can you go. I’m a natural, years of practice, man.”
“Yeah,” agreed Albert. “We could get one of those steel bands.” Ironically – Lenny hated steel bands: “They sound like a scrap yard.”
Several others joined in the discussion. Ideas bounced off each other with a fury, some ridiculous like a bouncy castle in the pub, others quite inspired, like rum punch on tap. In the end, Albert suggested that they should give Danny a wedding present of fifty pounds and a trip to a casino in the West End.
“Danny can have a little flutter,” he said. “And so can we.”
So it was settled. Calypso, cash and a casino it would be.
*
“Did the outfit look nice then, was everything all right?” asked Wendy.
“I think we looked the part,” Danny replied. “Even Albert looked dapper.”
“Good,” said Wendy. “Now Dad’s checked and almost all of the invites have been answered and everyone’s coming.”
“Cohen and Costa?”
“Yes, they’re coming too.”
As Wendy rattled on about bouquets, chicken or lamb and wedding gifts, Danny was silent. The realisation that Cohen and Costa were actually coming filled him with nervous misgivings. Only a short time ago, he’d been with his best man, laughing and joking at poor
“Can I help you?” asked the rather effeminate man at the counter.
Danny cleared his throat. “I have an appointment with someone named Cyril?”
The man eyed him. “I’m Cyril,” he said. “Where is the second member of your party?”
“Not here yet,” said Danny, feeling like he was stating the obvious.
After ten minutes, there was still no sign of Albert. This worried Danny. Maybe their recent cooling relationship had led Albert to pull out. But just as Cyril was taking an uncomfortably long time over the measurement of Danny’s inside leg, Albert walked through the door.
“Looks like your luck has changed, son,” Albert remarked.
Danny was delighted to see his best man. He smiled with relief. “All right, Albert?” he said.
Cyril swept disapproving eyes over Albert’s tramp-like appearance. He became a touch frosty and less effeminate.
“Take a seat, sir,” he said. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”
Albert waited as Danny was wrestled into various outfits. Every now and again he gave an approving wolf whistle.
“So the black tailcoat, striped trousers and grey waistcoat?” said Cyril after Albert and Danny had debated the options.
“Works for me,” said Albert.
Albert proved to be a rather more difficult project than Danny. He had the habit of stretching out his arms, so that the sleeves of the tailcoats he tried climbed halfway up his forearms.
“Please sir,” said Cyril irritably. “You won’t be walking around with your arms outstretched.”
Albert shrugged his shoulders. “Monkey arms,” he said.
At long last, a reasonable fit was found, identical to Danny’s. It had to be said, Albert looked transformed and rather dapper. Mission accomplished, Danny put a deposit down. The now giggling pair left a bemused Cyril in his top-hat-and-tails world.
*
“So Danny,” said Albert. “You want a stag night? It’s only right. Last night of freedom and all that.”
Danny, with a little trepidation, agreed.
“You leave the arrangements in the almost safe hands of me and Lenny,” Albert said soothingly. “Next Friday night? Seven o’clock kick-off at the Live and Let Live.” And he mock-punched Danny’s jaw.
Walking to work at the pub that evening, Albert started to think about the entertainment for Danny’s stag night. A traditional stripper, maybe a night up the West End, perhaps a flutter in a casino.
At the bar of the Live and Let Live, Lenny was knocking back a Guinness laced with a dash of Jamaican rum.
“How about we organise a Caribbean night?” he suggested when Albert asked him for ideas. “You know, with straw hats, colourful shirts and plenty of rum chasers. We can have a limbo contest, you know: how low can you go. I’m a natural, years of practice, man.”
“Yeah,” agreed Albert. “We could get one of those steel bands.” Ironically – Lenny hated steel bands: “They sound like a scrap yard.”
Several others joined in the discussion. Ideas bounced off each other with a fury, some ridiculous like a bouncy castle in the pub, others quite inspired, like rum punch on tap. In the end, Albert suggested that they should give Danny a wedding present of fifty pounds and a trip to a casino in the West End.
“Danny can have a little flutter,” he said. “And so can we.”
So it was settled. Calypso, cash and a casino it would be.
*
“Did the outfit look nice then, was everything all right?” asked Wendy.
“I think we looked the part,” Danny replied. “Even Albert looked dapper.”
“Good,” said Wendy. “Now Dad’s checked and almost all of the invites have been answered and everyone’s coming.”
“Cohen and Costa?”
“Yes, they’re coming too.”
As Wendy rattled on about bouquets, chicken or lamb and wedding gifts, Danny was silent. The realisation that Cohen and Costa were actually coming filled him with nervous misgivings. Only a short time ago, he’d been with his best man, laughing and joking at poor
Similar Books
