"...Sunday Dinner, always a joy... well if you find the right person anyway!"
With my brain firmly trying to make its way out of my skull, I faced Sunday morning with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. Instead of throwing open my curtains to shout at the neighbours opposite, I just covered my eyes and voluntary closed off by auditory system and walked into the bathroom. I almost screamed when I caught sight of the horror that faced me in the mirror. Still wearing the outfit from the night before, my hair was now covering half of my face and stuck to both of my fake eyelashes (which for some reason had made their way down my cheek) and the dried on lip gloss that I had plastered on before leaving the Towers.
'Oh my God, I look like the living dead on acid.' I said to myself, trying to "unstick" my hair without actually ripping my face off. I couldn't believe that Lillian had managed to do it to me again. Every time I came home, I swore to every single God that existed that Lillian would not get me in such a state that I couldn't walk home and yet she did. I should have gone out with Mum. She wanted me to, but Dad put a stop to that when he said that he wanted us to have a big family dinner, Sunday Lunch in fact. So, it was only under the promise that my Aunt would not knock me six ways from Sunday alcohol wise that I ever left the safety of Mahoney Towers. So far, I had managed to avoid facing any members of my family having only just re-joined the land of the living, but lunch was something I wasn't looking forward to, due to the fact that it may re-visit me during my drive home later on.
After showering, or rather standing there under the water willing it to make me human, I stepped back into the bedroom, towel wrapped firmly around me and sunk back onto the bed. As far as I was concerned, the world could carry on without me today. I needed to die, preferably in peace. That was not to be as soon, I heard a fist banging on the door.
'Jessie! Jessie are you in there?' my Grandmother's voice was not the lightest thing that existed. In fact, it was so stern and Lancastrian that it could make a grown man jump at fifty paces. Just ask Granddad Mel!
'Go away.' I mumbled, my head pleading for salivation.
'I will certainly not go away young lady.' Grandma Nicki replied. 'Are you decent?'
'No.' I answered, hoping that would put my grandmother off coming into my room. As I heard the door handle turn, I knew that it hadn't.
'Oh my God, look at the state of you!' she exclaimed, as my mattress dipped slightly. 'I am going to kill that daughter of mine. And so is your mother when she gets hold of her.'
'Not before I kill her first.' I groaned, pulling myself up. 'You can have the leftovers.'
'Oh my darling.' Grandma Nicki brushed a hand over my face. 'It really isn't good to be like this is it? We really have to do something about your Auntie don't we.'
'What can we do?' I sighed, sitting up a little more and wrapping my duvet around me when I realised that the towel didn't cover my modesty in the way I thought it did.
'I have no idea Jessie.' Grandma Nicki sighed. 'But I suppose that it can wait until another day. First, we have to make you look human enough to face your parents.'
'Oh God no.' I suddenly buried my face in the duvet again as I heard Grandma Nicki rustling around in my bag for clothes. 'Please don't make me go. They will only want to kill each other before the starter arrives.'
'They will not.' Grandma Nicki answered firmly. The next thing I knew, jeans and a t-shirt were being thrown at me along with a clean set of underwear.
'Now get dressed and I will see you downstairs in half an hour. I'll get you some breakfast to start you off.' Grandma Nicki's feather light kiss on my forehead was always comforting and as the door closed behind her, I felt my smile slowly return.
Half an hour and slightly looking more human later, I walked down the four creaky flights of stairs into the restaurant where thankfully, it looked as though the main breakfast rush was over. I put my head around the kitchen door to make sure that Granddad Mel wasn't on toast duty before sitting down at one of the immaculate tables. Every day, Grandma Nicki made sure there were different coloured table clothes across the tables. Kept everything fresh, she said. Today was Sunday, so the colour was burgundy. All the cutlery as always was silver and the plates white. Grandma Nicki liked her tradition. And that's why the guests and regulars loved her. And why I loved her as well.
'Ah there she is.' Granddad Mel said, walking into the dining room and taking a seat opposite me. 'And how are we feeling this morning?'
'Like I've been run over by one of the old trams.' I replied, running a hand through my still slightly knotted hair. 'Have I threatened to kill Lillian yet?'
'A few times according to your Grandmother.' Granddad Mel laughed. 'Oh sweetheart, it's not the first time Lillian has rolled in drunk and been sick all over the place is it?'
'This is true. But I'm worried about her Granddad.' I sighed. 'Do you think she's got some sort of ...problem?'
'Who Lillian?' Granddad Mel laughed. 'Nah, she's just a twenty something who is enjoying life that's all. Maybe she gets a bit wild now and again but don't all twenty something's?'
'Not all of us.' I smiled.
'No suppose not.' He sighed, tapping my hand. 'Now, let's get some breakfast down you before you have to get out and about.' Granddad Mel stood up and pull the ever present tea-towel from his shoulder. Today's t-shirt was "Rise of the Grateful Dead". Suitable! He gave me a wink and a smile before he disappeared back into the kitchen. I could smell the eggs frying in the pan and the bacon being grilled and instantly I felt a thousand times better. Until, I heard the click of the toaster...
'No toast please Granddad!' I shouted, suddenly remembering that I wouldn't have any teeth left if I ate any!
Full English minus toast later, I was more than ready to face lunch with my parents. Coral Island, my absolute favourite place in the entire world let alone Blackpool, had been picked as the meeting point and probably the eating point as well. The Buccaneer had the reputation for the best Sunday Roast ever. I know because I had given it such. The only trouble with this plan was getting Dad off the ticket machines as we walked in! It was his addiction, which was another thing that drove Mum up the wall. And he knew this so he did it all the more. When Mum and me entered through the door off the Promenade just opposite Central Pier, there was Dad pulling at the levers and bashing buttons, letting the tickets fly from the little slots just above the money holes. Mum, looking unusually resplendent in her high waist black trousers and white silky blouse, just folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. Yeah she wasn't making any effort at all for my Dad!
'Jules!' she finally snapped, causing Dad to jump and almost trip over his mountain of tickets.
'Jesus Laura, some warning would help before you decide to wither me with your voice.' Dad answered, clutching his chest for dramatic effect. 'So, who are you going to melt with your laser staring today?'
'Oh for God's sake grow up!' Mum retorted. And this was how it always started. Dad would say something Mum didn't like and then one big argument would ensue. So I left them to it. Whilst they were ripping verbal shreds out of each other, I wandered slowly into the Buccaneer and strolled up the bar. Whilst waiting to be served, I looked around and felt like a child again. The whole inside of the restaurant looked as though you were inside the Captain's Cabin on a pirate ship. Everything was wooden and the floor was dotted with see through panels containing "treasure" which the kids thought was real, The paintings on the wall seemed to follow you around and there was even a book case running along the back wall. The only thing that spoiled the illusion was the small plasma screens dotted around showing the latest football match. It was so not needed but something had to keep the adults entertained!
Whilst waiting at the bar, I looked around to try and find some familiar faces, as I knew The Buccaneer Bar was a favourite haunt of some childhood friends. And what would you know, I found one of them. Just as I was looking out the window to check that Mum and Dad were indeed on the pointing fingers and throwing hands up phase of their argument, I caught sight of someone I hadn't seen in almost ten years. And he still looked as beautiful as he did back in school. I would have recognised those piercing green eyes anywhere, even if the man they belonged to was wearing a Pirate outfit!
'Simon?' I asked, just in case I had got it wrong. When he looked up at me and smiled straight away, I knew that I was right. Simon Farmer was the school heartthrob back in the day, and the one that all the hormonal teenage girls wanted, myself included. There was the normal teenage "round the back of the bike sheds at the Christmas Party whilst drunk on the spiked Fruit Punch kiss", but nothing more than that, mores the pity.
'Well if it isn't...' he said his smile as lovely as ever, with just the hint of this morning's stubble still visible. God, he was still gorgeous. And I would still happily be dragged around the back of the bike sheds to pick up where we left off! Which, considering I had a boyfriend waiting for me, was something I should not have been thinking!
'Hello you.' I smiled back, trying not to visibly drool in his presence. 'Fancy seeing you here.'
'Well, I work here.' He laughed. Oh that laugh! 'Come here and give me a hug.' I wasn't going to argue with this idea. Simon was a clear foot taller than me, with arms that could crack Scottish toffee. Underneath his red bandana, you could see the faint blonde and brown streaks of the curly hair he had had since childhood.
'You mean behind the bar?' I asked when he reluctantly let me go.
'No, you daft bat.' He laughed again. Dear Lord, please make me a comedian so I can hear him laugh all day long! 'I'm the manager. Well weekend manager anyway, there's a different one in the week.'
'So, what do you do in the week?' I asked, leaning on the bar and practically turning into my sixteen-year-old self.
'Listen, I'm due my dinner break so why don't I get you something to eat and we can have a proper catch up eh? Unless you've got other plans.' I looked out of the window to see Mum and Dad still going at, although Mum was now chasing Dad around the Tea Cup Ride. They would play for hours.
'No, nothing important.' I smiled, looking back at Simon.
'Great, Josh two roasts and two wines...you still drink wine don't you?'
'Yep.' I confirmed, ignoring the niggling in my head from the bottle the previous night.
'Go grab yourself a table and I'll bring em over.' Simon was already proving a lovely host and with "the kids" quite happy to play chase, then who was I to turn down his invitation!
Ten minutes later, Simon and I were sat at one of the top tables in the corner of the restaurant munching down on what had to be half a cow between us complete with a field full of perfectly cooked vegetables and the best gravy outside of Grandma Nicki's. This certainly was the perfect place to have lunch especially on a Sunday.
'So, what do you do with yourselves these days then?' Simon asked, making sure that his red bandana didn't flick into his eyes.
'I'm a writer believe it or not.' I answered, dabbing at my mouth with a napkin. 'Newspaper in London.'
'Ahh I had heard rumours coming from The Towers that you had emigrated.' He nodded. 'Mel and Nicki were almost bereft.'
'That's why I come back every weekend.' I explained. 'Gives me a chance to catch up with everything and everyone.'
'So, if you've been back here every weekend how come this is the first time I've seen you?' I felt slightly sheepish. It was true that the "everyone" I caught up with was normally my family and most of my old school friends hadn't had a look in. It was a shame really so it was lovely that at I was getting to know at least one of them again.
'I know it's bad of me.' I said, feeling slightly guilty. 'I promise henceforth that I shall come in here more often.'
'Yes you should.' Simon smiled warmly. 'It's really nice to see you. You look amazing.' Ok, Simon, my childhood crush, who was still utterly stunning, said that I looked amazing. Had I just died and gone to heaven? Yep must have!
'Thank you.' I managed to speak, whist trying to push the memory of the most amazing kiss ever to the back of my mind and trying to push Tristan to the forefront.
'You seeing anyone then?' Simon eventually asked.
'Yes!' I said, almost too enthusiastically. 'Tristan. He's back in London.'
'Not here with you then.' Oh here we go! Someone else who thinks my boyfriend should be shot because he refuses to come to the seaside! 'He gigs on the weekends in a band.'
'Wow.' Simon said, sounding slightly surprised. 'So you fulfilled both dreams then.'
'Dreams?'
'Yeah, don't you remember? You wanted to become a world famous writer and marry a rock star in school.' Simon laughed, his green eyes dancing in the dim light.
'Oh yeah.' I giggled, remembering my childhood mantra. 'Well half way there I suppose. So, what do you do in the week when you're not here then?'
'I help out at the Health Centre. Wellness Clinic.' Simon said, surprising me for the first time in the conversation.
'Didn't expect you to do that.' I said, sipping my wine. 'I thought you wanted to be the next big male model.'
'Yeah well that didn't quite work either.' He laughed again. 'Mind you I did give it a go, but not like what I do. Heavy stuff in the week, light stuff here on the weekend.' I was slightly stunned that this was the same Simon that I knew in my youth. But still, time had been good to him, unlike...
'There you are!' Mum's voice came booming through The Buccaneer, causing a few families with small children to look scared. 'We've been looking for you.'
'Really?' I questioned, not believing a word of it. 'I see you haven't managed to kill Dad then.' As I noticed that was in fact fully clothed, still had all his teeth and was stood next to Mum.
'No, I'm quite safe sweetie.' Dad said, making a face at Mum, which thankfully she didn't see. 'I see you've started lunch without us.'
'Actually Dad, I've almost finished.' I said, feeling suddenly awkward. 'You remember Simon from school? He's the manager here.'
'Oh yes, Simon from the Bike Sheds.' Oh great thanks Mum! Thankfully, like he had been for most of our lunch together, Simon laughed the comment off as he got up from the table.
'Yes that's me, nice to see you again. Well, I'll let you get back to your parents; I'm due back on shift anyway. And don't worry about lunch, its going on my staff bill.'
'Wow, thank you Simon.' I said, getting up from my chair. 'It really was lovely to see you.'
'And you.' And then Simon placed a small, quick kiss on my cheek before he adjusted his bandana and walked back into the bowels of the restaurant. I turned my attention back to my parents who both just stood opened mouthed. It was nice to shock them once in a while.
Goodbyes were always emotional in Mahoney Towers, even though in five days I would be seeing them again. But that didn't seem to matter. London was a million and one miles away as far as they were concerned. Grandma Nicki always made a big show of giving me crushing hug outside the hotel in front of everyone and then making sure she dabbed away a tear from her eye. Granddad Mel was slightly more sensible and just gave me a kiss before helping release me from his wife's grip. Mum and Dad were too preoccupied with trying to find out what I had been doing having lunch with someone who wasn't my boyfriend to say a proper "goodbye" so that left Lillian, who as always under protest that I ever moved away, stayed in her room to sulk.
So, at five o' clock on the dot that Sunday, I bid my weekly farewell to the Homeland and turned out of the street back onto the Promenade. I loved taking the long way around when I had to drive home. In the dying sunlight, the Golden Mile looked more wonderful than ever, each of the three Piers were lit up with a thousand multi coloured bulbs and the Big Wheel on Central Pier was still going strong. It also gave me a chance to clear my head ready for the week ahead and what I faced back in London. Bernice would have probably read the bad comments on the website, which I had had the sense not to even try and check whilst I was here. And I also wondered what Tristan was doing right now. He would probably would be fiddling with something electrical or strumming that damn guitar. Yep Battersea was a thousand miles away from Blackpool and I was starting to think what was the point. Just before Simon entered my head once again...