Dad Medicine

Things never turn out the way you want them to, do they? You can plan and plan and plan until your house is filled with diary's, full calendars and little 'to do' notes, but in the end, things don't go perfectly.

It would have be perfect if Bernard came back from his relaxing holiday in full health, rang me up and offered me at job at the museum. But no, things don't go perfectly. Jake, the knob who I embarrassed in front of Bernard came into store yesterday in his annoying flip flops and oversized sunglasses. There was a frosty air between the both of us at first, but as the conversation moved onto Bernard's health we both said all the polite and melancholy things in respect. Towards the end he mentioned he wasn't working at the museum any more. Perfect. Jake neglected to tell me how, but simply stated he got another offer from somewhere else. Bollocks. More likely it was because I proved to Bernard he was pissing about whilst he was supposed to be working.

But Bernard was ill. A simple hint that life's not perfect. Life isn't perfect. If it was I'd be working at the museum now, food wouldn't be allowed in cinemas and Steve wouldn't be screeching his way into the car park at half nine at night when he should be at home.

'Steve, what are you doing here?'

'Got to speak to Sharon, mate.' He stuttered, slamming the door to his Skoda.

'Is everything OK?'

I've never seen Steve at work past at least 6pm. Seeing him in the stark spring moonlight was a little unsettling.

'It's Mary.'

Oh, God. I've said it before and I’ll say it again. Woman shouldn't wrestle. She's probably broken her back jumping off something on to someone. Or something.

'Oh yeah?'

'She's...'

Steve held his hands out in front of me.

'Lost her hands?' I guessed.

How can you loose your hands while wrestling? It's getting far too violent. The town hall should ban it.

'No.' He spat at me. 'She's...'

His voice trembled as his broke from the sentence, clutching the bridge of his nose with both thumbs.

'What? Pregnant?'

'Yeah...'

At least I thought he said 'yeah', it was more of a muffled squeal.

'You're joking?'

'I'm not.' He over pronounced. 'You think this is a joke? The only joke I tell is the one about the Jelly Baby in the doctors.'

That is a great joke.

'Wow...' I said, biting my lip.

'Couple of weeks. I need to tell Sharon.'

'And Darren. That's Mary's manager.'

'Oh yeah...'

He was just going to book time off for himself if it wasn't for me reminding him.

'Why didn't you just phone up...instead of coming all the way up here?'

'I panicked.'

'So you just left her in the flat?'

'She's watching a film.'

There's a baby growing inside you, but don't let it put you off Toy Story 2, love.

'Well...congratulations.'

'What?' He stared me down.

'It's...it's good news...isn't it?'

Steve stared at the floor.

'No!' He finally shouted. 'Mary is having a baby!'

'Both of you are having a baby.' I corrected him.

'Whatever.'

Steve marched up the store. Wow, Steve. A father. All that pointless knowledge passed on. Say what you like about what will become of the child, but if you want a kid with a wrestling mum and an infinite knowledge of Led Zeppelin’s back catalogue, you know where to go. Tommy wandered over to me. He joins me on Thursday nights, usually with one earphone dangling from his neck and a bottle of Lucozade in his hand.

'What's he doing here?' He muttered.

Since I started going out with his sister there's been an obvious void in conversation. He's not the most talkative teenager out there, but I had to be kind for Allison's sake.

'Steve and Mary are going to have a baby.'

''Awww...'

At first I thought he was being nice.

'I know kids are fat at first, but that one will take the piss...'

Congrats, then.

I didn't see Steve for again that night. By ten o'clock his skoda was missing from the car park but the next day he turned up. Half an hour late and unshaven.

'Sorry, mate. Been a rough night.'

'I thought all this starts once you have the baby? Not a few weeks in.'

'We sat up all night talking.' Steve scratched his grey stubble. 'Knackered. Going to ask Sharon if I can go early.'

Brilliant. The kid probably hasn't even for fingernails yet and already Steve is taking the piss. Allison was on holiday today, away in the caravan with her parents down in Cornwall for the weekend, a bit of a late birthday treat. So I joined Mary and a piss-taking Steve for my dinner.

'Congrats, Mary.' I smiled, sitting down with a sandwich.

'Thanks.' She gleamed. '

I took it as read that Mary actually wanted the baby. Why wouldn't she think otherwise? Steve would be a great Dad. There's an art form to piss-taking that needs to be passed on. He was the man for that. He hadn't done a minute's work since he pulled up.

'You excited?' I grinned.

'Yeah. I've always wanted a baby since I babysat for Julie, my sister. We stayed up last night planning things, didn't we Steve?'

'Um? Oh, yeah.' Steve blinked, holding back a yawn.

'Just applied for a new house. That reminds me, Steve. We're going to have to clear out the spare room if we get it. For the baby.'

'The Den?'

'Yes.' Mary stared him down.

'But...where am I going to put all of my records?'

'Use the garage.'

'The Bat Cave?'

'Yeah, or sell them. We'll need all the money we can get once it arrives.'

'Mary...my vinyl collection is worthless.'

'You mean 'priceless'?' I asked.

'Yes. Priceless. Besides, I already tried selling them. It wasn't my fault those people at the car boot don't know what real music sounds like!'

'And that game thingy...' Mary said.

'The XBOX?'

'Yeah, I bet that would go for a bit...' Mary nodded.

'Jesus...' Steve sighed. 'Being a parent...you have to sacrifice, don't you?'

Yeah, a second hand games console and Deep Purple's greatest hits. It's tough being a father.