lippy and popped outside.
Alex and Charlie had hauled out one of Linda’s bottles of wine and were debating in loud voices exactly which hilarious rugby song they were going to sing next. Uh oh. I looked at Fran, who nodded and raised her eyes. They were absolutely, gloriously, buggeringly drunk.
‘BESTIALITY’S GREAT, MATE!’ shouted Charlie.
To which Alex immediately responded:
‘PUT YOUR LOG IN A FROG, MATE!’
‘PUT YOUR GEAR IN A STEER, MATE!’ hollered Charlie lustily.
‘BESTIALITY’S GREAT!’ they concluded together, holding each other up.
‘Oh God,’ I said to Fran. ‘We can’t take these two with us. They’ll be awful.’
‘You tell them.’
‘Oh, why does it always have to be me?’
‘Yeah, right, like I invited Charlie.’
At the sound of Fran speaking his name, Charlie fell to the ground and clasped her round the ankles. She kicked him.
I turned round to face the boys. They were both very red in the face, and the wine was sloshing around dangerously.
‘Alex, you’re completely pissed,’ I said, trying not to sound too headmistressy.
‘Jesus, gorgeous, you sound just like my old headmistress,’ he slurred, wobbling backwards and forwards.
‘You’re not coming to this stag night like that!’
‘STAG NIGHT! STAG NIGHT!’ they started chanting. Charlie got up off the floor and looked around, puzzled. ‘Are we there?’
‘Oh, shut up!’ My patience was gone, and I couldn’t cope. ‘You’re not coming, so you might as well just fuck off.’
‘PUT YOUR LOAD IN A TOAD, MATE,’ started Alex inexorably.
‘PUT YOUR GOO IN A ROO, MATE,’ Charlie joined in.
‘Oh God,’ I said to Fran. ‘What shall we do? Make a run for it?’
‘Oh, good idea,’ she said. ‘Then when Linda gets back from Singles Night at Tescos she can find them prostrate in vomit and weeing on her carpet.’
‘BESTIALITY’S GREAT, MATE! BESTIALITY’S GREAT!’
‘Maybe we can take them outside, then lose them.’
‘Good idea. Just as well you’ve already taken Alex’s set of keys back.’
‘Shit.’
‘Look, let’s go. They’ll probably be all right.’
‘SHE CAN SHOOT GREEN PEAS FROM HER FUNDAMENTAL ORIFICE!’ shouted Charlie suddenly. Fran and I stopped talking and turned round.
‘That’s the wrong song, you twat,’ said Alex.
‘I KNOW!’ hollered Charlie. ‘Err … PUT YOUR POLE IN A FOAL, MATE!’
‘THAT’S MORE LIKE IT!’ yelled Alex. ‘PUT YOUR STAFF IN A GIRAFFE, MATE!’
‘Oh God.’ I sat down, then stood up again when I realized I was sitting in the wine and spittle range of fire.
‘This is great. This is just great. First, Amanda is never speaking to us again for going behind her back.’
‘Yeah. One: who cares, and two: how is she going to find out?’
‘Oh, probably shortly after these two get arrested and in the papers.’
‘HAVE A SHAG WITH A STAG, MATE!’
‘HAVE INTERCOURSE WITH A HORSE, MATE!’
‘Then,’ I went on, bravely, ‘we turn up at this thing and get thrown out, and Angus and Fraser never talk to us again. So, in the space of a day I’ve managed to alienate about thirty-three per cent of all my friends. Not to mention Alex, when he wakes up tomorrow and I’m beating his face to a bloody pulp.’
‘Why don’t you do it now, when he won’t notice?’
‘What would be the point of that?’
‘Come on.’ Fran took me by the arm. ‘Let’s get this over with. Maybe they’ll fall out of the taxi …’
‘Yeah, and into another dimension. C’mon, you two, we’re going.’
They started to sway towards the door.
‘UP THE CRACK OF A YAK, MATE!’
‘HAVE A FRIG WITH A PIG, MATE!’
And the four of us sang, going down the hall:
‘BESTIALITY’S GREAT, MATE! BESTIALITY’S GREAT.’
We nearly got thrown out the cab, and it took all my conciliatory powers to get us to the Princess Louise pub, in Holborn. I shot a nervous look at Fran, but she appeared extremely cool, even though Charlie was trying to get on his knees in front of her to express his true and heartfelt devotion in loquacious terms. Every time he got too close she kneed him on the crest of his rugby shirt.
I took a deep breath at the door, squared my shoulders and headed in.
‘Neh, it’s a private party up there, mate,’ said this extraordinary talking-monkey thing.
‘Yes, that’s right,’ I said. ‘Fraser McConnald’s stag do.’
‘That’s Laird McConnald,’ added Fran helpfully.
The monkey raised its eyebrows.
‘’Ere, are you the …’
‘No, we’re not. We’re invited guests. Come on, Mel –’ and Fran shrugged us through imperiously.
As in werewolf films, the inn fell quiet when we entered the room. Lots of young men were standing around having a perfectly nice comfortable drink, and here were two pairs of breasts all set to ruin it. A couple of the blokes even had cigars, if it could be any more Freudian. I wanted to turn on my heel, but, fortunately, Angus came to the rescue.
‘Hey, hullose there!’ He walked over, beaming. ‘Glad youse could make it.’
His smile fell as he looked over his shoulder and cottoned on to the collapsing figures of Alex and Charlie.
‘I’m sorry!’ I said straight away. ‘They were going to get thrown into the river in a sack and we didn’t have the heart to leave them.’
Angus half smiled. ‘Och well, they’re here now, I suppose. Is he –’ indicating Charlie – ‘going to cause any trouble?’
Fran
