The further adventures of Stan -20 - penultimate chapter

I returned the call from Stan's step-father. “Stan was worried sick about you,” he said. “He has been trying to contact you all day. Are you all right?”

“Yes, I'm fine, but why was he so concerned? He doesn't need to be in contact with me every hour of every day. I presume he's back from his trip.”

“Yes, but not without making a hash of things as usual. Why didn't you insist he come back with you? That boy has so little common sense, and is so easily led.”

“Calm down and just tell me what happened.”

“He got picked out first from the customs people for bringing drugs into the country.”

“What? Stan doesn't take drugs.”

“Well, he seems to have developed the habit since you left him – and it probably would never have come to this if you had kept a proper eye on him.”

“I'm not his mother. It was never my intention to tell him what to do or how to do it.”

“Well, never mind that. Apparently this girl he stayed with after you left got him into drugs – or at least into marijuana. That's what they found on him.”

“Did they arrest him?”

“Yes, they did, and then they had to let him go because the guide lines say that they should only arrest people with amounts of drugs that make it apparent that they are dealing. And Stan only had a supply for himself. In the bottom of his deodorant container, if you can believe it. Anyway, as I said, they let him go, and then the Manchester police arrested him for being under the influence of drugs. And when they asked him who he wanted called – he said you, and he tried and tried to get a
hold of you. But when you weren't answering, he called me. So I went down and bailed him out, and I've got him here with me now, trying to knock some sense into his thick head.”

“So is he going to stay with you now?”

“Well he still has his job in Marple, and loads of customers who are angry as anything as he didn't let them know he was going to have that extra week off. So I think he had better come back to you. Do you want to come and pick him up?”

“Not really,” I said. “He can get the bus back. He knows the way.”

“I take it you have your own issues with him, and I don't blame you for that. That kid has been trouble from the time I first met him. Do you want to speak to him now? He's right here.”

“No, I don't. I'll talk to him when he gets back here.”

“Well, good bye then.”

“Good bye.”

It was still early evening, so I expected Stan would be back within an hour or so, if the bus ran to time.

That didn't give me very long for me to plan what I was going to say. I hated the thought of hitting him when he was down – but the fact he had willingly put himself in this situation made me so angry, as well as all the other stuff that had upset me over the last week or so.

It was just before 9 when the door opened and Stan came into the living room. He'd obviously seen the "For Sale"  sign in the front garden.

“You're selling this house?”

“Yes.”

“When did you decide that?”

“About a week ago – just about the time that you decided that I was a fat lady with worms crawling up the backs of my legs.”

“You mean you're selling the house to get rid of me?”

“Partly. But I have been thinking about it for years – thinking how much easier my life would be without having to maintain a huge house like this.”

“So I won't be able to live here anymore.”

“Nope.”

“Not at all? Not even until it's sold?”

“I think it's best that you leave tomorrow. I've looked into possible places you might go to, and if you agree, I will pay a month's rent for you in lieu of notice. There's an advert on line about a house share on Cross Lane where you'd have a bedroom, wi fi and a TV, your own shower room, and a shared kitchen and living room for £80 a week.”

“But I have my business set up from here – with the computer and all.”

“You can take the computer, and I understand the house has parking for your truck. And it's close to the train station and buses and there's a shop nearby too. ”

“£80 a week is a lot more than you charge me. I've got a problem with cash flow at the moment, so I won't even be able to pay you for my share of the holiday yet.”

“You won't have to do any gardening or handyman work, so it should give you more time to earn some more money.”

“Just like that after all those years we've been friends.”

“Just like that. I need to get your bedroom decorated and a new carpet put in before the house is sold.”

“I could paint it. I'm a painter. Did you forget that?”

“I don't want you to do it. I've hired somebody who is coming in on Monday to get started.”

“What about all your Christian principles - “Don't cast the first stone – Turn the other cheek."  Don't I even get the benefit of the doubt? You didn't even ask me for my point of view on all this. I don't even know why you're so angry with me. Is it just because I didn't come back with you?”

“I overheard you telling Helen how you regarded me. It hurt very much. I have given you shelter, food, and love, unconditionally , for years now, and you just brushed me off as insignificant and made fun of me.”

“I didn't know you heard all that.”

“Oh course, you didn't know. My phone call from Sven only took a minute or two. He was inviting us both to go to Montenegro with him, so I said I would ask you and call him back. When I got into the room, you didn't see me, as I was partly behind a curtain – but I could hear every word you said perfectly well. And no matter if your intention was to impress your new girl friend or what, I very quickly realised that I had misjudged you, and you didn't deserve anything more from me.”

“She said you fancied me. She said you were using me as a toy boy.”

“And you agreed with her. You made me out to be a control freak – as if I kept you under my thumb. Is that how you interpreted our holiday? Me forcing my attentions on you? Me dragging you abroad for my own selfish purposes? Me throwing my disgusting body at you at every turn?”

“No, of course not.”

“And then later that night, you had her in your bed in our apartment.”

“Oh, I didn't realise that you knew that.”

“I got up to go to the bathroom – having no idea what I was going to see when I opened the door, and you were very much involved in what you were doing.”

“Well, you can't blame me for that. She was dynamite, that girl. And she wouldn't take no for an answer.”

“All her fault. And she was giving you the marijuana too, was she?”

“No, not then. I wouldn't do that in the apartment I shared with you. That was later after you left.”

“I could smell it, Stan. At first I thought it was her perfume but  I know what marijuana smells like. When we first went to San Francisco, years ago, the parks reeked of that smell.”

“She said if we blew into a pillowcase, nobody would know.”

“And getting stoned before you flew home, and bringing stuff back with you? Did you intend to keep up with the habit now you're back?”

“No, of course not.”

“No of course about it. You stashed some in your deodorant. You intended to smoke at least that much.”

“She put her spare stuff inside a ham sandwich, inside a wrapper from a shop at the airport.”

“And you think she was clever, and you couldn't wait to show her you were as good at smuggling it in as she was. Surely you knew that the customs at the airport are very worried about young people in particular bringing in drugs.”

“I thought they wouldn't be too worried about a class B drug like marijuana. It doesn't really harm you. It just makes you relax and appreciate everything that bit more. Have you ever tried any?”

“No, I have most certainly not.”

“It's no worse than alcohol, and you drink plenty of that.”

“It's illegal – and the justification for that is that it harms your body in all sorts of subtle ways, and affects your judgment.”

“So does alcohol.”

“I think we've discussed this enough for tonight. You have until Monday to get out, but if I were you, I would contact this person tomorrow to close the deal on the room,” and I handed him a paper with the contact details.

“And you'll give me enough money to see me through this month will you?”

“Oh, Stan. Have you no money left at all? What did you get up to this last week?”

“We ate out all the time and she expected me to pay, and there were the drinks and stuff like that. And we went places. Oh, for Pete's sake Liz. Stop looking at me like that. I was on holiday – my first time abroad and I had a hot chick who was hungry for my body. So I took all that was offered and had a really good time. Do you really think that was such an awful thing to do?”

I walked out of the room.