‘It’s a wedding present. Ain’t nothing special, just a card and bottle of plonk.’
Having already drunk two litres of strong cider, Debbie wondered if her hearing was playing her up. ‘Wedding present! What do you mean?’
Dave the Rave pulled his Nike baseball cap over his eyes. He was on a paranoid one, thanks to the three acid tabs he’d popped last night, and Debbie had always scared the living daylights out of him even when he was straight. He stared downwards at his Diadora trainers. ‘I saw Jase in the Working Men’s Club last night. He was on his stag do. Look, just give this to him, will ya?’ Dave mumbled, shoving the carrier bag in Babs’s hand.
Not one to be shaken off easily, especially when two sheets to the wind, Debbie chased Dave towards the lift and grabbed him by his scrawny arm. ‘When is he getting married? Where?’
Knowing he was about to have a panic attack, Dave the Rave was desperate to get away. ‘Langtons, today at two. Look, I gotta go. Not been a-bed all night.’
‘Is Jason really getting married?’ Babs asked as her mum stomped back inside the flat.
‘Don’t ask me, I’m only his bastard mother. Get the boys dressed. And ask old Lil if you can borrow a fiver.’
‘Why?’
Debbie glared at her thick daughter. ‘Why d’ya fucking think?’
Jason arrived at Langtons Registry Office with Terrence, his best man. ‘I don’t know a soul here,’ he whispered to him, as he made his way to the front of the aisle to await his bride.
‘Jason, Jason,’ a voice bellowed.
Aware of all eyes on him, Jason walked over to his nan who had bagged herself a seat in the front row.
‘You said I could bring someone, so I brought Ted. You remember Ted, don’t ya? It was his grandson Timmy you used to nick the lead off the church roofs with.’
‘Yes, I remember, Nan,’ Jason hissed, putting a forefinger to his lips in hope she’d get the message. She was only five foot three. A sturdy woman with dyed burgundy-coloured hair. But she literally had a voice like a foghorn, and he could sense all the Brooks’s posh friends looking at her. The last thing he needed was for her to tell embarrassing stories about him all day. Johnny Brooks would literally have a heart attack.
‘Shake Ted’s hand then. Say hello properly,’ Peggy ordered.
Jason did as he was told. Ted was a lanky dark-haired Irish bloke who had a dreadful taste in clothes. The cream suit he was wearing looked horrendous. He stood out like a sore thumb.
‘The bride’s arrived,’ somebody shouted.
Jason took his place at the front of the aisle. This was it. Shit or bust.
Johnny Brooks squeezed his wife’s hand as the vows were exchanged. Carol was smiling broadly, but crying at the same time.
Jason grinned at his bride. She looked lovely in her dress and he was actually looking forward to ripping it off her later and making love to her for the first time. ‘I promise to care for you above all others, to give you my love and friendship, support and comfort, and to respect and cherish you throughout our lives together,’ he vowed.
Tracey Thompson was secretly seething. She’d been sure Jason would get cold feet and couldn’t believe he’d gone through with it. She didn’t believe he loved Mel. He was only marrying her because her father was loaded, she thought bitterly.
‘So it is fucking true,’ a voice bellowed from the back.
Johnny Brooks looked around in horror.
‘You no-good deceitful little cunt. What type of son gets married without telling their own mother, eh?’
‘Mum, can we just go?’ Babs begged, tears streaming down her face.
Jason wanted the ground to open up and swallow him as his drunken mother marched towards him. The guests looked shell-shocked and he could fully understand why.
‘Are you having a party, Jase?’ Elton asked.
‘Get rid of her, Jase,’ Melissa hissed.
‘You don’t wanna be marrying him, girl. He don’t love any bastard other than himself. Only reason he’s getting hitched is because your family are cake-o,’ Debbie slurred loudly.
‘Do something, Johnny,’ Carol urged. She couldn’t quite believe what was happening.
Johnny Brooks stood up. ‘How dare you turn up here uninvited and ruin my daughter’s wedding. Get out! Go on, before I physically throw you out.’
‘Who d’ya think you are? Rambo? Ya fucking midget,’ Debbie retorted.
Peggy Rampling stood up, hands on her hips. She’d never met her other three grandchildren and had no wish to. ‘Look at the state of you, ya drunken trollop. No wonder the boy didn’t want you at his wedding. You’d break the fucking camera. Barging in ’ere with all your unwanted kids in tow, you should be fucking ashamed of yourself,’ she yelled.
As the fiasco continued, Tracey Thompson grinned and said a silent thank you to God. She had been praying that something like this would happen.
‘Pass me the salt and pepper, love,’ Johnny Brooks said to his wife. He’d hired a professional catering company to cook and serve the hundred and thirty guests.
Carol studied her daughter’s face. ‘Ruined Mel’s day, all that drama did. You know how I hate the C word. Never felt so embarrassed in all my life when she started yelling that out. I could swing for that bloody woman.’
‘Me too,’ Johnny muttered. The ceremony had finally gone ahead after the police were called to remove Jason’s poor excuse of a mother from the premises. Debbie had left before they arrived, dragging her unkempt kids with her. ‘What do you think of the décor?’
‘Beautiful. But nobody is going to remember that now, are they? The only talking point will be that drunken dragon turning up, spouting all sorts.’
Johnny sighed. He had gone to a lot of expense to ensure his daughter had an unforgettable day. He’d hired an exclusive company to decorate the hall. White drapes covered the walls and ceiling, and a portable white dance floor had been laid with flashing lights that spelled out Melissa and Jason’s names. He’d ordered the finest cutlery, glassware and flower arrangements, but it all suddenly seemed like a waste of time and effort. He had seen the looks on the faces of his fellow Masons and their wives when Debbie had yelled her son was only marrying Melissa for money.
‘I’m relieved Mark didn’t come now,’ Carol said miserably. Their son was on holiday in Turkey.
‘Granddad. Wee, wee,’ Donte said.
Carol patted her husband on the back. ‘You see to him while I check on Mel. We’ll just have to try to make the most out of the rest of the day. Nothing else can go wrong, surely?’
Darlene Michaels studied herself in the full-length mirror. She rarely wore dresses, but was determined to look the part for her grand entrance later.
‘I just spoke to Tony. They’re eating at the moment. We’ll make a move in a bit; pitch up at that pub nearby. He’s gonna ring us when the time’s right,’ Craig Thurston said.
Adrenaline flowing through her veins, Darlene asked, ‘How do I look?’
‘Gorgeous. I can’t wait for our holiday. Do you good, it will. Rampling’s only a boy, you’ll soon get over him.