Twist On – Serial Week/Dickens – Wayne 57

 

[For a quick guide go here: Quick guide.]

[Old back story is here: Story so far at 30 Nov 2020 and read more recent Wayne episodes especially this one.]

[Other back story through in-links.]

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Even the left over scraps from Dave’s kitchen were delicious.

As Dave coasted into the back room at a pace Wayne raised his plate along with his eyebrows and said “Is there any more?”

“More?!” stormed Dave. “You dare ask for more? Me rushed off my feet and you sat there doing nothing, asking for more? I’ve never heard of such stuff.”

Wayne was sat – actually sat! – with Cath on one side of the table and Jezzy on the end. Neither of them were eating, partly through choice, but mainly because the eating of leftovers was Wayne’s special entitlement.

“Please do something with this boy,” said Dave to Cath as he went by carrying two plates of well presented food. “He’s worthless to me, entirely worthless. I should cast him out into the streets.”

“Ha! Streets!” said Jezzy. “‘at’s what his nickname is, y’know? He’s streets and no mistaskin’.”

Jezzy winked in Dave’s direction and would have gone on no doubt, but Dave was out of earshot.

Cath smiled. “I’m sure I can find someone who’d find some worth in you, young man,” she said to Wayne. “Plenty of people would jump at the chance to get hold of you and tell you what to do.”

“Is this the front room gig you’re on about?” asked Wayne.

“Why stop at the gig?” said Cath. “You’re a valuable commodity. You could offer to tidy up their front rooms while you’re there. Send you up the chimneys and make a fortune.”

“Look at ‘is face!” laughed Jezzy, “‘E don’t know if ya being straight wit ‘im or somefing.”

Wayne looked puzzled at Jezzy, “Is this some kind of new act you’re trying on, Jezzy?”

“Naffin’ wrong wi’ me, sunshine.”

“So what’s with all the cockney stuff? You’re from Basingstoke,” said Wayne. “And is there something in your eye cos you keep winking at me…”

Jezzy just grinned back him. Jezzy was like this on occasions. He’d get into some kind of banter ‘act’ and wouldn’t put it down until he’d wrung every last piece of material from it. It was endearing sometimes. But mostly it was irritating.

“It’s not just the front room gig, by the way” said Cath. “I went up and down my book of contacts telling people what you were dong and what you were up to and there’s plenty who’ll take you in. Got quite a nice line up of possible venues. Glasgow to Grimsby.”

“Grimsby?” 

Cath produced an A4 pad and was bumbling around a little trying to find the right page of notes.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

“Venue on November 18th,” said Wayne, looking over at the page. “Can we get a different venue? - that one was like a graveyard last time. Got a load of grief from the local management and basically had to run away from the crowd.”

“It’s a highly respected stop,” said Cath. “You can’t pick and choose.”

“I just want to go out and find some love,” said Wayne. “After all this time it shouldn’t be too much of an ask, right?”

Dave hurtled past their tabs again. This time not even acknowledging their existence.

“Are you,” said Cath, choosing her words carefully, “missing something?”

Wayne didn’t respond.

“Time to wake up Wayne,” she went on. “Stuff might not be right quite yet, but this is when things get real, OK? You can’t stick around here, he doesn’t want you that much by the look of it. He wants to get on with his life and to be honest you could just be another thorn in his side. Wise up, and sign up and let’s get you out there.”

Wayne’s look showed Cath he was terrified. It was all very well to think about going out into the world in theory, but when the reality faced you, when you just saw street after street, road after road, stage after stage, all Wayne wanted was a nice safe home somewhere. And it could be next to Dave on the sofa watching Netflix and chilling.

“O my eyes,” said Jezzy, starting up again. “It’s like ‘e doesn’t know ‘e’s born. Stick wi’ me Streets and you’ll go far.”

They got up and started for the back exit. Jezzy tripped up and dropped the bag he was carrying. The contents spilled out: thirty-two small packets of pocket tissues.

“Oh my eyes!” laughed Jezzy, “Got to be prepared!”

“Where did you get those from?” asked Wayne.

“Stashed in a cupboard in the gents,” said Jezzy with anther wink. “Keep schtumm, Wayne boy and we’ll go far!”

Wayne was going to tell Jezzy to put it all back but then realised he didn’t really care that much. There were worse things. Genuinely worse things, right now. And if he was going on the road with Jezzy he might as well stay on his good side.

“And as for the front room gig,” said Cath. “We’ll just have to wait and see who’s the highest bidder.”