Paul soon discovered that everyone knew Dorothy, and Dorothy knew everyone. Or rather, Marvin did, because that turned out to be his real name. They'd found that out when they'd ducked into the train station to stow away their bags, and they'd been properly introduced.
Whilst John and Paul stuffed their essentials into their pockets, Marv - who they kept calling Dorothy half the time - had explained that he was with the organisation, and that he only ever wore drag on special occasions, and that they had to get a move on, which they would have, except at the last second, John changed his mind and pulled out the massive flag which was easily big enough to double as a bedsheet. Finally, they were on their way, struggling to keep up with Marv, who they kept calling Dorothy and who was walking on those platform stilettos as if they were a pair of trainers.
"So Dorothy," John panted as they turned into a street which was closed off to visitors, "what are we supposed to be doing anyway?"
"In a nutshell? Look cute." Marvin slowed down enough to walk at their side, and reached into his wicker basket to dig up a couple of brightly coloured wristbands which he handed to them. "Put these on and don't lose them. They'll grant you access to the backstage area and the after party."
Now it was Paul's turn to be curious. "We still don't know what it is we're supposed to do, or why it had to be us."
"Alright, then. Do you know the Petticoats pub?"
John shook his head no because he didn't know the place, but he noticed Paul nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that's just off Temple Street, right? I've been meaning to go there ever since the Lindy Bop over in Aintree closed. It's a fifties style bar," he explained when he noticed John's expression, which probably looked every bit as confused as he felt. Well, that solved that mystery. Of course, Paul would know where to go for old-fashioned Rock 'n' Roll music.
"Right. My husband is the owner." They were ushered into a narrow alleyway now, beyond which they could already see the starting point where all the participants were gathered. "In return for being a festival sponsor, he gets to promote the pub. That's where you come in. Nothing serious required; just sit in the back of an oldtimer, have fun and interact with the audience a bit. If you spot someone who looks like they'd enjoy the pub, give them a flyer. That's all there is to it. We used to have two couples, but the boys who were supposed to participate broke up a few days ago. I've been running around all day to find a couple to replace them, and here you are."
From the moment they entered the secluded area, Paul wasn't sure where to look first. Everywhere he looked were groups of people standing around, talking, laughing, having drinks... There had to be hundreds of them, if not more. Some were fixing their makeup or costumes, others were lounging about, and there were quite a few couples dancing to the music that washed over them from a cluster of loudspeakers. It looked like every possible demographic was represented. The largest group by far was the one paying homage to Michael Causer, the gay teenager who was beaten to death seven years earlier. Paul supposed some of those people had to be his family. He felt his heart ache for them.
John, meanwhile, was equally impressed even though he'd planned to act as if it was just another day. It was simply too much fun to see all those different people. The leather community was well represented as always, and he couldn't help but grin at some of the outfits (or lack thereof, since half of them had their arse hanging out, and some wore just barely enough to cover their naughty bits). They were a friendly bunch, though, and several of them waved merrily when they noticed John watching them. One even blew him a kiss, which sent John into a fake swoon and that, in turn, resulted in Paul shaking his head in mock exasperation. 'I can't take him anywhere', he signalled to the men in leather. They appeared to agree.
Much of the participants were far less obvious, though. Over there was a group of emergency workers gathered around an Ambulance Rapid Response car, clad in their respective uniforms. If the Fire Brigade and the Police had brought cars too, he couldn't see them. He half expected they'd be there somewhere.
Close to them were a few footballers. Or, at least John thought they were. The men were wearing the exact same things Everton and LFC players would wear during a match, but he didn't care for football so he had no idea if any of them actually played at either club. Not very far from the Causer family were people in all kinds of traditional costumes from all over the world. Some were easy to identify: China, Russia, Finland, Japan, India, Holland, Mexico, Spain... But the group was too large to see them all, and John hadn't a clue which countries some of them were representing. He might have tried if his attention hadn't been drawn to something else. "Paul, look! I think that's our ride over there."
It was almost disappointing to discover the car wasn't a pink Cadillac. Paul would have put money on that if someone had started a betting pool. Good thing that never happened, then, because the car next to which Dorothy was talking to a man with bright ginger hair (who was the embodiment of the Edwardian Teddy Boy in his Elephant's Trunk and DA, waistcoat, drainies, and long drape jacket) was a turquoise 1957 Chevrolet Bel Air convertible.
Sat on the boot, with their feet on the backseat, were the girls they'd been told about. Just like him and John, they were dressed in style too. One had her hair up in victory rolls, which went very well with the black halter top and the red skirt she had on - complete with petticoats, of course - whilst the other was sporting a Marilyn Monroe kind of hairstyle with big flowers on one side. Instead of a skirt or dress, she had a yellow, off-the-shoulder top on, and black pedal pushers. Apparently, Dorothy had just said something funny, because all of them were breaking down in peals of laughter.
"Care to let us in on the joke? I'm always up for a laugh," John jested as they joined the small group. So far, it looked like a fun bunch of people.
"There you are, I thought you'd done a runner," Dorothy grinned, motioning for them to come nearer. "Everyone, these are John and Paul. They've agreed to replace Andy and Leonard. Lads, these lovely young ladies are Jen and Val, and this over here is my husband, Victor. He'll be your chauffeur this evening."
They'd barely finished introducing themselves when there was some movement within the masses. Apparently, the parade was about to start. Paul reckoned it was about time to do away with the sunglasses, if only because it was bloody difficult to use eye drops whilst wearing specs, but also because the sun was setting. The skin around his eyes felt a lot better now, and he didn't get any odd looks, so he supposed it looked fairly normal, too. If only his eyes would stop feeling so scratchy...
"Alright, Paul? Eyes still bothering you, are they?"
"Just a bit, John. No permanent damage done, mate. Stop worrying about it," he shrugged, grateful for the subject to be dropped when Victor started the engine. Most of the other vehicles they'd seen were already moving, and the few that weren't were supposed to be somewhere behind them, so Paul waited for John to take his place, and then squeezed himself into the remaining space, on the far left side.
Thank fuck for big American cars, he thought as he moved a bit closer to John. Anything smaller wouldn't have accommodated the four of them and even now he was a bit scared he might fall off. John seemed to be thinking the same because he wrapped his left arm tightly around Paul's waist. When it was their turn to go, Dorothy handed one end of John's oversized rainbow flag to Paul, and the other to Jen who sat at the far right, so it'd billow behind them. Feeling giddy with excitement, and more than a little nervous, Paul nudged his knee into John's. "Here we go then, eh? No going back now!"
_~*~_
Far sooner than John would have liked, he found himself following Paul into the Petticoats pub. They could have gone to the official after party, which is where Jen and Val had gone after exchanging phone numbers with Paul, who had his work cut out for him because they had met loads of interesting people, and John had basically ordered him to email all of their contact details the moment he'd get home. On second thought, it'd probably have to wait until after the hangover would clear up. He wasn't drunk yet, mind. Neither of them was. But John had made it one of his goals to make sure he would be, and with that in mind, he joined the queue at the bar.
Paul liked this place. It was loads better than the Lindy Bop had ever been. They served food here, for one thing, so he'd taken the opportunity to order a cheeseburger and a Coke. From the booth he quickly confiscated whilst John waited for their order, Paul scrutinised the pub. He loved the old photos of stars from the forties, fifties, and sixties, which covered the walls. Some of them were even autographed. There was a big jukebox in the corner, a vintage one by the looks of it. It had those colourful tubes that slowly changed colour. It wasn't playing, though.
A small part of the pub had been sacrificed to make room for a DJ who had just taken 'Blueberry Hill' off of one turntable whilst 'Great Balls of Fire' played on the other, and if he saw it right, he'd just grabbed a Platters single to replace the Fats Domino one. Apparently, he took requests as well, and Victor and Dorothy - who he should really call Marvin now that he'd changed out of his costume and into normal clothes - would sometimes say a few words into a microphone. All in all, it was a really great atmosphere and Paul was sure to come back soon.
"What's all this then," Paul laughed when John finally made it to the booth. He'd taken his time ordering, and then he had himself a lovely little heart-to-heart with Marv. Long story short: he was no longer unemployed. One of the blokes whose place he and Paul had taken, used to work behind the bar, Marv had said, and now they needed a new barman. It hadn't even taken John much trouble to get the job: he'd slipped behind the bar to prove he knew how to draw a pint, showed his ability to carry five plates at once and said he could start whenever they needed him. The rest, as they say, was history. To celebrate, he'd splurged a little, aside from the burgers and fizzy drinks, he'd also gotten a big portion of chips - which bore the American name 'fries' here - and a pint of stout each.
His reply was simple: "we're celebrating."
"This food is bloody great, isn't it?" John made a show of licking his fingers clean, and half thought of ordering some more. He wasn't the only one eating with gusto, either. Paul had pretty much hoovered up his hamburger and was now staring at his empty plate as if he was trying to conjure up another one out of thin air. "I could get another one if you're still hungry."
"I'm not. In fact, I'm stuffed. It's just that it tasted so good, you know? Makes me want to eat more, though I wouldn't know where to put it." He grinned sheepishly at John. "I think I want to move in here. The idea of having to eat my own shitty cooking for breakfast is too much to bare."
"That bad, is it?"
He chewed his bottom lip to keep from laughing out loud. "My food comes with a disclaimer: 'consume at your own peril'. I actually poisoned people. Twice. And I won't even tell you how often I got the runners from something I made. It's pathetic."
John gasped in feigned shock. "You mean to say you're not perfect? Way to ruin my image of you, Paul. How will I ever live with the shock?"
"You'll manage." Shaking his head, Paul drained his Coke. One drink down, one to go. He wanted to put off getting pissed a little longer, if possible. They'd had a few beers after the parade before they were invited to Petticoats, and the lager and shots they'd had in the afternoon hadn't completely left his system yet, either. Frankly, he was getting tipsy. Leaning back, his eyes fell on the bar. "Marv looks dead on his feet."
Paul wasn't wrong. Behind the bar, Vic and Marv were slow dancing to Nat King Cole's 'Mona Lisa', though they were barely moving at all. Marvin's eyes were closed and his head rested against Vic's chest. He looked half asleep but then if the short time they'd spent in his company were an indication of how his day had been, it wasn't any wonder. It was a sweet image, though, and it just looking at the simple display of affection made John wish he could lean on Paul like that. He could always ask, he supposed. There were several more couples and there was that little chat he'd had with the DJ earlier...
He slowly got to his feet and caught the eye of the DJ, who gave him the thumbs up. Smirking in a way that was supposed to look innocent, he then offered his hand to Paul. "May I have this dance?"
"Oh alright, then. But I'm leading." Something told Paul he was going to be getting more than he bargained for. He didn't know why; it wasn't as if John looked like the cat who ate the canary or something. Not that he had any idea how such a cat would look, but if he did, then the way John was smirking probably came close. And sure enough, no sooner had the last chords of died away or the DJ announced what he called 'a little medley for all you lovebirds out there'. Paul threw John a suspicious glare, which was met with a smug little grin.
It all went perfectly according to plan. 'Devoted To You' seamlessly faded into 'Oh, True Love', and as far as he could tell, Paul was fine with it. A bit embarrassed, maybe, but he was a lot more indulging than John had expected. He didn't know many straight men who'd be this blasé about it all, though. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a little voice began to wonder if that said something about the straight men John knew, or whether that might mean Paul wasn't as adverse to gay love as he'd assumed. Whichever it was, he supposed he'd find out eventually.
The final song in the medley was 'Let It Be Me' and by then, John could swear he could feel his teeth rotting on the spot. It wasn't like him at all to get this sentimental, with anyone, especially considering the unfortunate fact that they weren't even together... Yet. But this... Well, if this wasn't a reason to step out of character and make blatantly obvious what he wanted, then John didn't know what was. Maybe he'd get diabetes just from hearing these songs in short succession, but it'd be worth it if it helped his cause.
Feeling bold, he conveniently forgot his promise to keep it platonic. It wasn't as if Paul was going to risk a scene by telling him to bugger off, was he? So, the moment the third song began, he lay his head on Paul's shoulder and nuzzled his neck a bit, just because he could, whilst congratulating himself on the excellent choice of music. Over the top, yes, but at least it got the message across, didn't it? Maybe he could get away with...
Fighting back a giggle, Paul firmly grabbed John's hand and moved it back up a few inches so it'd be on his lower back again. It amused him a lot when those fingers crept lower and lower, but he had to draw the line somewhere or John would just keep pushing. "Why do I get the feeling your fingerprints are all over that medley?"
"Who, me? I wouldn't." John blinked furiously at Paul, pouting in feigned hurt for good measure.
"This one was for all the lovers out there, especially for the two lads you've all seen at the parade. Cheers for helping us out, boys!"
The look on John's face was worth a million. So was the embarrassed groan he uttered when his blatant lie was exposed not five seconds after he'd told it. This time, Paul couldn't hold back his laughter. "You're right, John, you'd never...."
_~*~_
It was well past midnight when Paul caught a bus home. Being more than a little drunk, but somehow still aware enough to realise he could either take a seat or land on his bum anyway, he clumsily crashed down next to an elderly lady. He flashed her a very drunken smile by means of an apology. "Oops, sorry. I nearly sat on your lap, didn't I?"
"That's alright, son," she said, patting his knee like a grandmother would. Paul wished he still had a grandmother... Perhaps this lady would be willing to fill the spot... "Did you have a good time at the parade, then?"
"Yeah!"
Was that too loud? People were looking at him funny. Maybe he'd talked a bit louder than he should. Then again, maybe nan was deaf? You couldn't tell such a thing from looking at a person, could you? Well. Unless they wore be of those thingies... Erm... Hearing thingies. Then you could tell. Paul looked sideways. Nope, nan wasn't wearing one. Not on that side, anyway. Maybe she lost it. Maybe it was stolen! Ah, rotten bastards... Who'd so something like that to a sweet old lady? If Paul saw them, he'd surely... Well. Do something.
It was a really long ride. That was Paddy's Wigwam over there. He didn't live anywhere near there, so Paul supposed it was still going to be a really really really really... What? Never mind.
"I'm a little bit drunk. I think," he muttered in a conspiratory tone at nan, leaning in close so she could hear without her hearing thingy.
"Aid!"
That was the word he was looking for. Oh. Did he just yell that out loud? "Did I say that out loud, nan?" He had whispered really very quietly this time, breathing into her ear again so he wouldn't be scowled at for shouting. She had pearl earrings in. Classy, that.
"Yes, dear," she grinned.
Why did this ride take so long? Paul sighed. He really had a great day. Especially the part with John. JohnJohnJohnJohnJohn.... He couldn't think of anyone else. Would he be thinking of Paul too? Maybe he should ask. With an effort, he wiggled his fingers into his left trouser pocket. Nothing. Other side, then. Nope. Sorry, nan; didn't mean to elbow you.
Finally, Paul found his phone. What was the PIN code again? Erm... Fuck. He couldn't recall. Feeling the panic rising in his throat - he hoped it was that, and not the drink making a return trip because nan definitely wouldn't want him as her grandson anymore if he'd throw up all over her pretty... lavender? lilac? periwinkle? Well. Some sort of purple... Erm...dress. Frowning, he looked down at his pretty pink iPhone. How had he managed to unlock it? Oh. Right.
"I thought I forgot my password," he confided in nan. "But. It knows my fingerprints. Clever, isn't it?"
"Very clever, dear."
Paul felt all warm inside when he saw John's name in his list of contacts and eagerly tapped the little phone icon. It rang, and rang, and rang, and then voicemail. Didn't John want to talk to him, then? Oh, wait. His phone had died. That was really sad. For a phone to die. With a deep sigh, Paul slumped in his seat, feeling bereft. Whatever that meant. He couldn't recall, but he thought that was what he felt. He sniffed noisily, to stop his nose from running. He wished that would stop his eyes from leaking too.
"Are you alright, son?"
He'd nearly forgotten about nan! Bad Paul! What kind of grandson forgot his nan? He turned to look at her and smiled through his tears. She smiled back and gave him something. A gift? For him? Great! He liked gifts.
It was a tissue. How did she know that was just what he wanted? Paul unfolded it ever so carefully, appreciating how it seemed to get bigger each time. Now it was a rectangle. Now it was square. Rectangle. Square. Magical! Best gift ever. He giggled a bit at the trumpeting sound when he blew his nose. See, only a perfect tissue could make him do that. He'd treasure it always, right along with the snot and the tears. He smiled at nan again. He loved her. Everyone should have a nan like that, Paul thought, as he rested his head on her shoulder. She patted his leg again. They understood each other, he was sure of it.
"I'm in love, nan," he murmured, feeling wonderfully sleepy.
"That's good to hear, laddie."
Paul thought so, too.
____----____----____
John's Every Brothers Medley:
Devoted To You: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LboNYB_oKTY
Oh, True Love: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w_DtteP17Nk
Let It Be Me: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lvA-STM7oJk
Other songs mentioned/implied:
Fats Domino - Blueberry Hill: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bQQCPrwKzdo
Jerry Lee Lewis - Great Balls Of Fire: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jt0mg8Z09SY
The Platters - The Great Pretender: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s08AOiRmy3w
Nat King Cole - Mona Lisa - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=th-QbzRyMIE