Parcel for you..Part 16

 

Spencer pulled away from Pat and began putting the finishing touches to the table. ‘It’s nearly ready to eat,’ he said flatly.

 

‘Good. Please sit down everyone,’ Vanessa gestured to her guests, aware now of her false smile, fixed in place, hiding the fact that she had a bad feeling in her gut. There was something about the atmosphere that felt to her like fertile ground for friction. ‘Sorry, there are no starters today. We wanted to keep everything simple.’

 

‘Oh, that’s fine, Vanessa. Who needs starters when Stu has brought along this wonderful bottle of wine.’

 

‘Ah yes, glasses are on the table.’ She rummaged in the drawer, searching for a bottle opener. ‘I’ve got white too if anyone wants it but first let me get this red open for you. That’s a beautiful label on the front.’

 

‘I’ll do it,’ said Stu, raising his grabby hands towards the bottle in such a way that Vanessa felt she had no choice but to surrender it. 

 

He made a great play of opening the bottle, moving his body a little more than was necessary and making a small grunting noise as the cork came out. ‘Aaah,’ he said as he swirled the opening of the bottle under his nose. ‘That’s the good stuff, worth every penny. I like to bring my own wine,’ he said, ‘spread the joy, you know.’

 

Vanessa didn’t really know what that meant but she knew she didn’t like it. She noticed how Pat was seated with a silly grin on her face, shrugging gleefully as if she’d just won some sort of prize but was holding back on showing off too much. ‘Bottom’s up,’ she said as she took a swig.

 

‘Cheers!’ said Stu. He held up his glass, ‘To new friends.’ The three of them clinked glass and Spencer spun around in a panic then grabbed an empty tumbler of the draining board and clinked it rather crudely against the others. ‘Whoa there, my friend. We don’t want to break anything.’

 

Spencer didn’t respond. Vanessa was starting to feel quite concerned about him, the food he’d prepared was perfect but socially he was at risk of being made a fool of and she didn’t want that for him. ‘Oh this is wonderful, Spencer,’ she said as he placed his dishes on the table.

 

‘I forgot to put the Yorkshire Puddings in. They’ll take another twenty minutes so you can start eating now.’

 

‘Are you not eating, Spencer?’ said Pat

 

‘No, not this food. I’ve got my rice cake though. It’s for my digestion, it’s very limited for now.’

 

‘He can only have dry things,’ said Vanessa with a chuckle. She actually felt quite annoyed with Pat for asking that question when it was quite obvious he couldn’t eat the same food as them.

 

‘This is lovely food, Wes..sorry, Spencer. You’ve done ever so well to cook this for us.’ Pat wiped her mouth with her napkin. ‘I should have said, Stu has quite a few allergies.’

 

‘No, no don’t worry, it’s all fine,’ said Stu.

 

Vanessa’s eyes widened. ‘Oh no, what are you allergic to?’

 

Stu put down his knife and fork, held out his hand and counted on his fingers, ‘Fishfingers, hazelnuts, chicory and erm, what’s the other thing…whelks, that’s it, whelks.’

 

Vanessa noticed he was wearing a large ring on his middle finger, depicting some symbol, like a rune. ‘Fishfingers?’ she said, ‘that’s a strange one, doesn’t it depend on what fish they use or is it something about those neon orange breadcrumbs.’

 

‘Well, it’s a funny one actually because I don’t know if that one is an actual allergy or just a reaction. There’s just something about them that makes me feel sick, even if somebody talks about them I feel sick.’ Stu turned away from the table and stifled a heave into his hand.

 

Pat’s eyes widened, she placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. ‘Stu, are you okay?’

 

‘Yes, yes, I’m okay. Breathe Stu, breathe,’ he said to himself while staring up at the lampshade, ‘I just need to breathe it out.’ He exhaled slowly, took a sip of wine and continued. ‘I’m alright now. That one’s different from my other allergies, my face swells if I have any of the other things on the list but with fish fingers, I’m just sick. I don’t know if it’s because I was fed them too often as a child, you know we were very poor. I’ll have to check with Lady M.’

 

‘Lady M?’

 

Pat fiddled with her napkin and whispered, ‘His mother,’ she followed this with a prolonged swig of wine which implied that the subject was a stress trigger.

 

Spencer looked pensive, chewing robotically on his ricecakes, he stared at Stu with a very serious look on his face, so much so that Stu looked up at him, ‘Are you alright mate?’ he said.

 

‘The worst air crash in history,’ Spencer said, ‘Tenerife, nineteen seventy seven.’

 

Stu looked up, he removed his napkin from his lap, folded it and placed it on the table as if he’d suddenly been challenged to a duel. ‘The worst in terms of the number of lives lost, yes. Five hundred and eighty three people died, and all because,’ he paused and looked at the ladies, ‘the captain, Jacob van Zanten, was in a bit of a hurry.’

 

Pat and Vanessa looked at each other with nervous smiles. Spencer had been swatting up on aviation disasters and now it was dawning on Vanessa that his attempts at conversation might be limited to simply spewing out facts. 

 

‘I think there was a lot more to it, Stu. Circumstances were unique on that day, a bomb scare, poor visibility, limited runway capacity, interference on the radio waves, too many planes at the apron..’

 

‘Apron?’ said Pat.

 

‘You’ve still got your’s on, Spencer,’ laughed Vanessa, ‘take it off and relax.’

 

Spencer stood up, removed his apron and continued, ‘It’s grossly unfair to put all the blame on Jacob van Zanten. He was a very experienced pilot, among the best in the industry.’

 

‘That he was,’ said Stu, ‘and he got complacent and that’s why five hundred and eighty three people and two planes were incinerated. Believe me, Spencer I’ve spent enough hours studying these accidents and they’re usually down to human error, vanity or just complacence.’

 

Spencer seemed to struggle to think of a response. ‘Captain Jacob van Zanten was the poster boy for KLM airlines,’ he said.

 

 

‘He wasn’t a boy, he was fifty years old and he should’ve known better!’

 

A period of silence followed, until Pat blurted out, ‘Stu’s in a band!’

 

Vanessa breathed a sigh of relief, ‘Oh wow, that’s amazing. What’s it called?’

 

‘Hominids of Quasar,’ Stu said proudly.

 

‘Oh,’ Vanessa looked confused but she didn’t want to ask him to repeat it.

 

‘Yes, we do the local music festivals in summer, well not just local, we travel around the country quite a bit.’

 

‘And what do you play?’

 

‘Oh well I developed my own percussive interface,’

 

Pat laughed. ‘It’s an upside down Tesco delivery crate with metal bits all attached.’

 

Stu gave her a hard stare until she looked away. ‘It’s a complex instrument,’ he said, ‘invented by myself. There's a vibraphone, and there’s also, ha ha, you won’t have heard of this, but an Eichwurzel,’

 

‘I’ve heard of it,’ Spencer interjected, nodding his head defiantly, ‘it’s a type of gong.’

 

‘Well done Spencer. Mine hangs down on the left of my interface, then I have something like a triangle but it isn’t because it’s actually two interlocking circles, one copper, one chromium,’ he made a circle with his index finger and thumb and hovered his other index finger inside it. ‘Another invention of mine. I did a welding course last year.’

 

‘Gosh you are clever,’ said Vanessa, ‘I’d love to hear you play it.’

 

‘That’s not all I play. I have all that percussive stuff on my left side and on my right side is my synth. I’m very lucky in that the left and right hemispheres of my brain work in perfect harmony.’

 

Vanessa nodded vacantly, ‘Oh really,’ 

 

‘Yes. It’s very rare in humans, and ideally suited for many of the more intricate professions. It’s ideal for being an airline pilot actually.’ He suddenly looked crestfallen. Pat also looked very sad and placed her hand upon his, nodding sympathetically. 

 

‘You’ll have to let me know when your next gig is.’

 

‘Actually that’s a bit of a sore subject because Crinkler, our bass player, is leaving us for a year.’

 

 

‘Crinkler?’

 

‘Yes, don’t ask, real names’s Mick. He’s got himself a boat and is sailing solo to Jamaica.’

 

‘Sounds brave.’

 

‘Yes,’ said Pat, ‘lots of Stu’s friends are very brave..and different, not your run of the mill.’

 

‘I could fill in,’ said Spencer. Everyone looked at him

 

Stu took a sip of wine, coughed into his hand and said, ‘You can’t, my friend because you’re not a hominid, that’s why you’re eating rice cakes and we’re eating this delicious beef wellington that you cooked.’

 

‘I put loads of butter and salt in it. It’s actually very bad for you, that’s why you like it. Humans, sorry hominids, always love the things that shorten their lives. I think it’s called human frailty. I don’t have that and I’m not your friend, not yet anyway.’

 

Pat suddenly sniffed the air. ‘Can anyone smell burning?’

 

‘The Yorkshire Puddings!’ said Vanessa.

 

Spencer shot up and opened the oven, a puff of smoke came out. He inspected the contents. ‘This one’s no good, ‘he said, ‘but these two, they’re a bit black but they’ve held their shape.’ He put them on the table.

 

Vanessa looked up and blinked. ‘Sorry Spencer, we can’t eat those.’

 

Stu scoffed, ‘What are they, Captain Jacob van Zanten’s ears?’ He followed this comment with some prolonged laughter with Pat quite hysterical too.

 

Spencer shook his head. ‘No,’ he said quietly.

 

Vanessa got up and began to clear the plates. She made a few comments about having to get up quite early and Pat volunteered that she was very keen to get Stu home anyway.

 

As they reached the front door, Stu turned around and whispered to Vanessa, ‘I saw a video with one of them having sex and he looked just like a fish,’ He opened his mouth wide and then shut it again, ‘you know, gasping, gasping for air, like this.’ 

 

Pat gave him a light whack on the arm with the back of her hand. ‘Ah, stop it,’