"...Oh I do like to be beside the seaside... well, around the corner from it actually...'
Five and a half hours and surprisingly only one coffee stop later, me and my little red Fiesta found ourselves pulling into New South Promenade just as the night had turned into midnight blue. I drove along behind the string of cars in front that were stopping to 'ooh' and 'ahh' at the lights blazing from the Pleasure Beach and South Pier. No doubt, they would be on top of the Big One tomorrow, screaming their lungs out and swearing never again would they ride the world's most frightening rollercoaster. Wimps. I knew all the tourists' little ways; I had seen them all my life. As I stopped by the newly installed traffic lights, I smiled as I watched a family cross the road with two very excitable little ones carrying glow sticks that had been freshly purchased from the stall just down from the Pier. I knew that the Council had tried to move him and stop him selling but there was a major uproar about the whole thing a few years ago, so he was allowed to stay. I am proud to say that I was part of that very uprising, complete with placard and megaphone. Mum has never let me forgot that.
I turned into the familiar street just off the promenade that was full of hotels and holiday flats, one of which I knew off by heart. I stopped right outside the white building with the yellow canopy over the door and the Vacancies sign in the window. It amazed me that there was always that sign in the window even in high season. Mahoney Towers had been standing 'just around the corner from the Prom' for like... ever! And still it was one of the sleeping hotels that Blackpool knew and undoubtedly loved. I turned the ignition off and made sure that the handbrake was fully pulled up and on before actually getting out of the rust bucket that had lasted me five years. Last time I got out without making sure the handbrake was fully on; I almost broke my neighbour's foot. But I would never change my car. I loved it too much. It's amazing that despite the fact that I moved to the other end of the country, I really didn't like change. I liked the familiar and the comforting, something which probably went a long way to explaining why Tristan was still in my life!
Walking through the gate quietly, I quickly glanced into one of the big bay windows to see whether anyone was still up. Of course they were who was I kidding? The regulars were no doubt in, draining the bar dry leaving empty glasses and tall tales in their wake. The white wooden door was firmly locked which it always was after ten o'clock in the evening but only the few knew how to open it. I crouched down and lifted the terracotta plant pot that stood next to the step. Underneath was the one and only key that ever stayed outside of the Hotel. My key, held in place by the big "J" key ring attached to it. It had remained in the same place since I was old enough to be allowed out on my own. It was always left under the plant pot because I lost more bags and purses on a night out than the cheap shop in the market could provide! So, at least if the key was there and I knew it was there, I could always get in and be safe. As I picked it up, the smile on my face was brighter than the Big Wheel on Central Pier. The familiar, warm feeling inside of me was unmistakable. I was home.
As I turned the key in the lock, my stomach opened the butterfly cage and let the inhabitants loose. The sounds from the bar already resonated in my ears before I even entered the hallway. The loud singing, the laughing and one person's voice rising above them all. A wonderful, crooner type quality that could melt a woman within fifty yards of earshot. And I knew exactly who it belonged to. I shut the door quietly, not that it would have made any difference, because no one could hear me come in anyway. I suppose it was just force of habit. All those years of sneaking in at ungodly hours of the morning had made an impression on my inner teenage self and I knew the tricks of the trade. I stuck my head into the office to find that the lights were indeed on but there was no one home. I knew exactly where the people I wanted to see were. Raised voices drifting down the wooden stair case confirmed that two of the regulars were indeed in residence and once again they were arguing and rather loudly. This was a lovely start to my weekend off.
Ignoring the name-calling and insult throwing (along with actual ornament throwing) coming from the top of landing I walked across the flocked papered hallway and entered the bar. It hadn't changed in the twenty-six years I had known of its existence and I'm pretty sure it was the same before I entered the world. The dark wood interior made the place feel more like a local pub than a hotel bar, and for most of the Barflies it was. They even had their own beer tankards hanging on a rail at the back of the bar which was also home to a fair collection of black and white photographs of some of the famous faces that had walked through the doors in decades long since passed. Amongst the heady mix of the smell of alcohol and out of tune old school songs, I could make out the familiar figure of the man holding court as always. Glass full of Brandy in one hand, Blackpool tea towel in the other using it as a conducting baton. You would never think that this man was well into his seventies with several achy joints and a secret smoking habit. The jeans and Cool Britannia t-shirt certainly deflected from that as did the thick mop of grey hair and sun aged skin. But the sparkling blue eyes and gorgeous smile remained in place as always. And that's what made me love him more than anyone.
'Granddad!' I called, above the noise. No response, he just kept singing away and didn't even look down at me. 'GRANDDAD!'I yelled again, this time gaining his attention. His blue eyes lit up, his arms starting rising into the air and his mouth opened in readiness for the yell that I knew was coming.
'Jessie my baby!' he screamed, jumping down off the bar and giving me the fright of my life. Granddad Mel was always fearless and just because he was in his twilight years, didn't make him slowdown in the slightest. Half Irish, half Welsh, and Blackpool born and bred with the thickest northern accent you have ever heard. That was the man that was my Grandfather. A crushing hug, a million kisses on both cheeks and a spin around later and Granddad Mel was addressing the Barflies like it was the Royal Wedding.
'Ladies and not so gentlemen hush yourselves and look this way. This wonderful young lady is my beautiful granddaughter Jessie. She's a writer for a big newspaper in London you know, so treat her with the respect that she deserves. I know what most of you lot are like.' The Barflies nodded and raised their glasses in acknowledgement and appreciation of the speech that they had just heard. Considering I made the pilgrimage to the homeland every weekend, the gathered crowd had probably heard this a million times, their reaction becoming more subdued every time.
'Ach whatever, this lot don't deserve to feast their eyes on you. Come on angel.' He said, taking my hand and throwing the tea towel over the jukebox that stood in the corner next to the now redundant cigarette machine. Granddad Mel sat me down on a bar stool and signalled to Marie to get two glasses of whatever alcohol she could reach. Turns out the alcohol of choice was Malibu. I didn't really like Malibu but for the sake of my beloved grandfather, I gritted my teeth and swallowed the offending drink with a smile.
'Oh my darling girl,' he sighed, placing his hand on mine. 'Have you lost weight? You look pale. Are you eating properly? Is that boss of yours working you too hard? Come on, tell me.' And there they were. The same opening lines to the same conversation. It was almost like a play that had been rehearsed to perfection. And as always, I gave the same answer.
'No, I haven't, yes I am, no she's not and I have just driven for almost five straight hours.' He didn't seem to believe me, but he just nodded with pursed lips before taking a sip of his drink.
'So, how is the lovely Tristan or whatever he is calling himself these days?' Granddad Mel wasn't exactly the biggest fan of my other half. In his world, if a man and women weren't married after a year of being together then their arses should be dumped and never seen again. Maybe the woman should even join a Nunnery. Twenty first century living didn't sit well with him despite his recent mid-life crisis. He secretly longed for the good old days; I knew that in my heart as well as my head.
'He's fine.' I said, making shapes on the top of my empty glass. 'He says hi by the way.'
'Is that all?' Granddad Mel raised an eyebrow. I knew he was looking at my left hand so I shoved it between my knees. 'No new jewellery I see.'
'No same as last week.' Yep, same conversation. 'Tris is sorry that he couldn't come up with me but he's working.'
'Really.' There was no getting anything past this old man. It was better to change the subject and quickly before he went off on one about the sanctity of marriage and being together forever.
'I hear that certain residents are in.' I said, pointing my eyes upward.
'Ah yes.' Granddad Mel replied, nodding. 'They've been here all day going at it. Honestly, your grandmother is preparing to go in there with tear gas in a minute.'
'Where is grandma anyway?' I asked, looking around for my other favourite person in the world.
'She'll be here any minute...' Granddad Mel stopped to look at his watch and as if it were planned...
'Melachi Mahoney!' came the yell through the bar.
'There she is.' Granddad Mel smiled as fine figure of my gorgeous grandmother walked through the bar door.
'Jessie!' she smiled, as she caught sight of me, her brown eyes sparkling under the smoky lights by the door. 'Oh come here my darling.' She grasped me into a firm hug, the kind of hug only a grandmother can give. Nicki Mahoney was an expert at these. At just five foot one, I was a clear six inches taller but both my eyes and platinum hair came from her. This woman was my idol and I made sure that she knew it every day, even when I wasn't with her. I made sure everyone knew whom Grandma Nicki was.
'You are more beautiful than you were last week.' She smiled, and looked me up and down. 'No Tristan?'
'He's working.' I half lied.
'Any rings on fingers?' she asked, again looking down at my left hand.
'No.' Granddad Mel interjected, pouring himself another Malibu, hoping that his wife wouldn't notice. She didn't.
'Mahoney, go and collect the glasses or you and me will be falling out.' Grandma Nicki said, giving him what she called the 'I'm The Boss' eye. Granddad Mel never argued with this. Instead, he silently slipped off the stool before Grandma Nicki took his place.
'That's him gotten rid of.' She smiled. 'Now, what's new in the world of my favourite granddaughter?'
'Err your only granddaughter, I hope anyway.' I giggled.
'Details my darling, now tell me everything.' So I did. Missing certain parts of my latest Tristan visit (no matter how modern my grandmother was there were still certain things that were not meant for her ears!) I told her about the column, which she seemed pleased about and Bernice, again omitting her nickname!
'Oh sweetheart I am so happy for you.' Grandma Nicki said, with her trademark smile as Granddad Mel reappeared with an arm full of glasses. She looked at him and through narrow eyes.
'Have you been drinking Melachi?' she asked, knowing full well that he had.
'Of course not my darling wife of mine.' He grinned, placing the glasses on the bar. 'I would never dream of doing such a thing whilst on duty. And since you have graced me with your undeniable presence, then may I take this opportunity to say you look lovely this evening.' And indeed she did. Like I said before, my grandmother was the older version of me so her clothes were pretty much the same only she looked so much better in skinny jeans than I did!
'Don't you give me the darling wife routine Mahoney.' Grandma Nicki jumped off the stool and took a hold of Granddad Mel's arm. 'Now, get back behind that bar and act your age and not your shoe size, before I make sure that you won't be able to walk in the morning let alone sing and dance for all to see. Honest to God, you embarrass me no end sometimes. Do you know what you are?'
'A wonderful, fantastic man that you love more than life?' Granddad Mel was now on the charm offensive, leaning over the bar and batting his thick black lashes at us both.
'Don't you look at me like that you evil little leprechaun. Get back behind there before I really lose it with you. Go on, get!' Grandma Nicki flew around to the bar, flicking her hand over my grandfather's head. I smiled, stepped down from the stool and left them to it. It was hard to believe that after watching this scene that these two were actually very happily married and had been for about forty-nine years. Granddad Mel had told me thousands of time that he adored Grandma Nicki and couldn't imagine life without her. And I knew she felt the same about him, despite the fact that she never really showed it much due to Granddad Mel never really growing up.
So leaving my beloved grandparents to their regular nightly argument aka Grandma Nicki pulling rank over Granddad Mel, I made my way up the stairs to the living quarters. They were up on the third floor, right at the back where no one would bother us. The only trouble living in a street, just off the prom was there was no view. I loved the view. All the lights along The Golden Mile, which technically wasn't actually a mile but still I wasn't going to argue. I could hear the late night revellers were either coming from or going to the bar on South Pier around the corner. Oh man, the amount of times I have been carried in from that place. And from Foxes and more recently The Sands thanks to Lillian wanting to 'class our act up'. Thanks to that Aunt of mine, almost sixty per cent of my teenage life was spent with my head down the toilet throwing up the alcohol and take away contents of the night before. Tomorrow would probably be another to add to the list if my Aunt had her way.
Before entering my bedroom, tiptoeing passed Lillian, who was either out or actually asleep (I was betting out), I stopped outside the living room door. Inside were two very familiar raised voices. The insults were the same; the screams were the same, the people inside were the same. I sighed deeply and dared to enter. As the door opened, the shouting got louder. There they were, going at it like two teenagers going through a break up. Only they weren't teenagers. They were my parents. Both in their forties, both amazingly beautiful and who wouldn't give into the fact that they still loved each other.
'Hi.' I said quietly, knowing full well they probably didn't even realise that I was there. They didn't, so I closed the door and left them to it. Laura Mahoney aka Mum and Jules Clarins aka Dad had a brief, but intense relationship in University, which resulted in me. They married at the point of Granddad Mel's shotgun and the weight of Grandma Nicki's withering stare and then I was born. They lasted all of a year before Mum threatened to throw Dad off the Helipad on North Pier! But for some reason, Dad couldn't stay away from Mum and vice versa. It got to the point where my Grandparents left them to it. As did I.
My bedroom was like walking into a time capsule. It hadn't changed since I left five years ago. It still had my posters of various boy bands, the five boys from Manchester holding a special place above my bed – especially Howard- oh God yes! My double bed still had the pink and white checked duvet set across it, freshly cleaned and pressed by Grandma Nicki in readiness for my arrival. The whole room smelled of Lavender, my favourite scent and my mini fridge was stocked with Diet Coke. I slung my bag on the wicker chair beside the bed and flopped face down. My mattress here was so much more comfortable than London. It was more homely and more inviting. I flipped myself onto my back and stared up at the ceiling, which still held the 'artwork' that Lillian, and I had made when we were fifteen. It was still weird to me that my Aunt was the same age. Mum had told me a thousand times that Granddad Mel almost had a heart attack when she and Grandma Nicki both announced that they were pregnant within days of each other. If Lillian had been a little more patient we would have had the same birthday apparently.
I smiled and sat up looking over at the bedside table, which carried three of my favourite photos. One of my grandparents and Lillian, one of my mum and dad, on a rare moment when they didn't have murderous intentions in their eyes and one of me and Tristan just after we had met. It saddened me that he didn't join me on my seaside jollies more often. I suppose it was the case of when he did; my overzealous grandfather brandishing wedding magazines jumped him upon. But then again, he was a London boy born and bred, not a seaside man. Which was a shame.
After throwing on my pyjamas, I sunk into my bed and concentrated on the noises coming from all around me. The arguing thankfully had ended with a slamming of the door, not sure whether it was Mum or Dad. Lillian had phoned, I could recognise the ringtone on Granddad Mel's new iPhone. Yes, my Grandfather had an iPhone. He was that cool. Judging by Grandma Nicki's tone of voice and the fact that she wanted 'everybody out', it seemed as though Lillian was about to roll home in her usual state. I should get up, I thought. Yeah, come on Jessie, you should help, my brain was saying to me. But the child in me wanted to tuck myself in, hear Lillian breeze in all singing, all-dancing and bite my lip to stop myself laughing.
'Here's my number...call me baby!' Lillian's out of tune and not so dulcet tones came streaming through the landing.
'Oh for God's sake Mel, get ready to hold her head.' I could hear Grandma Nicki say and the banging of doors and the flushing of toilets.
'Oh crikey, I'll get the mop.' Granddad Mel said, as I heard the opening of another door.
'Nice one Lillian.' I smiled to myself as I snuggled down into bed having let the child in me win. 'Night night Blackpool.' I said, as I drifted off to a peaceful sleep. I loved being home...