Chapter Seven
The Thompson Twins
The summer holidays were coming to an end and I’d spent most of them working with Father driving for the council and selling Aluminium down the tip. Having fucked up my end of year exams yet again I had to retake during the holidays which was a real pisser as it meant I actually had to buy some books and furthermore, read the buggers! Luckily Letts revision notes were available on Nineteenth Century Metaphysical Poets which meant I didn’t have to read the boring fuckers. The money I managed to save whilst working with Father was put towards my first car, a red Triumph Dolomite with Walnut inlay dashboard, leather seats and wooden steering wheel.
Bazzer, the fat lad who had nearly won an Oscar for his appearance in a Colgate ad on East Anglia TV had given me the nod that the college super model Emma Eccles was going to be back a week early and staying in his flat.
‘And why does that affect me?’
‘It doesn’t.’
‘Well why mention it then?’
‘No reason. She did say though she’d never seen a golden frog before’
And that was all it took. I packed my car, said my tearful goodbyes.
‘Cheerio then Mother’
‘And don’t park that monstrosity anywhere near here again. Mrs Cameron reported it as being abandoned. The shame of …’
It’s like shelling peas from a pod. Oh the joy of watching it all unfold. Have you ever stood dominoes on their end and watched them fall. They can’t help themselves. Keep going my child, you’re making an old man very happy.
The Stereo which only played every other word and wouldn’t awake from its slumber until you balanced a can of Fosters on the top of it finally spluttered ‘Everybody wants to rule the world’ by Tears for Fears or as I had come to know it, ‘… wants… rule…world’. Waving and smiling at Mother as she continued to rant about the Shame I and my Dolomite had brought upon the neighbourhood I took one last look in my rear view mirror and felt life streaming back into my constrained and withered veins.
As ‘You are entering Cheshire’ greeted me at seventy miles per hour Morrisey warned me about the perils of dating a girlfriend in a coma. The can of Fosters precariously balanced on the stereo was having the desired effect enabling my tape deck to work without chewing up every cassette I owned.
My plan had been hatched and finely tuned. I was to knock on the front door, feign surprise when Emma Eccles opened it, giggle a little, say something witty, she would find me totally irresistible and voila.
‘Oh hello Emma, I didn’t realise you were here. Is Bazzer in?’ Knowing full well he wasn’t due back until Friday.
‘No, he’s not back ‘til Friday. I’m house sitting for the week, until he gets back’
‘Oh I see. I’ll be off then’
Brilliant! What a pillock. Emma shut the door. Bollocks.There had to be a backup plan. Dickie Attenborough always had at least three tunnels in case the Germans discovered one. I knocked the door again.
‘Bazzer said I could borrow his Best of the Thompson Twins LP’
‘Oh right, do you know where it is?’
‘He said in his bedroom somewhere’
‘Come on in then and take a look’
‘If you’re sure?’
‘I’m sure’
‘Excellent. Only if you’re sure?’
‘Well I think I’m sure’
‘Super’
Jackpot; the enemy within. It was all very well gaining entry, but what was I going to do when I found or didn’t find the Best of the Thompson twins LP.
‘Any luck?’
‘Not yet’
‘Do you want a cup of tea?’
‘Smashing, thanks’ Stop saying smashing Will.
The Germans had fallen for it. Now all that was left was the capture of the secret decoder, followed by a swift escape over the border to Austria.
‘What are you doing here so early?’ Emma enquired.
It was the obvious question really, one I should have been prepared for. Dickie wouldn’t have found himself lost for words.
‘What are you doing in Germany?’
‘William -72541- Corporal’
‘Answer my question you schwine hunt’
‘Will, why have you come back so early?’
“Will, twenty one, brown eyes’
‘What?’
‘Um, sorry, to borrow Bazzers Thompson twins LP’
‘You came back to college a week early to borrow a record’
‘Yeah, it’s a very important record, as far as records go, it’s a picture disk and they only made two of them and if I don’t get it…can I use the toilet?’
There were droplets of sweat forming on my forehead and above my top lip. I plunged my face into the half full sink of icy water and stared into the mirror.
It’s a picture disk…pathetic…what the hell are you going to do now…she must think you’re bloody nuts. Tell her why you’re here…be a man…you’re here because you knew she’d be here and you’re going to give her what’s what.
Think Will. What would Dickie have done? In the Great Escape they had three tunnels: Tom, Dick and Harry. Tom and Harry had been discovered. I was left with no alternative. Dick was my only way out!
‘Emma, I didn’t come back early for the Thompson twins, I came back because I knew you…’
I stopped dead in mid-sentence, my mouth trawling for plankton and my body a Medusa masterpiece.
Emma was lying on Bazzers oversized bean bag, two Thompson twins singles ‘Doctor Doctor ‘and ‘Love on your side ‘ covering her ample and what I assumed were perfectly proportioned breasts. Their other hit,’You take me up’ strategically positioned. Apart from those three vinyl songs of eighties genius all trace of what presumably was once clothing had vanished.
‘Shall we listen to these now or later?’
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