Billy Greaves Secret.

My best friend, Billy Greaves, wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box. People used to joke that his shoes had “L” and “R” written on them, just in case he got confused.

Neither did he have the looks of David Beckham. Some would say he had a face that only a mother could love.

A couple of years ago he did try to better himself by doing some kind of Psychology course in the evenings, but his day job was as a porter at the local fish market. He ALWAYS smelt of fish!

So it came as a big surprise to everyone, especially me, when he started dating Wendy Hiller. The most beautiful girl in town.

Wendy had everything. A perfect body and the face of an angel. She was witty and charming and had been going out with Big Jim Sanders, the captain of the local rugby team. But for some crazy reason that no one could figure out, she dumped him for Billy Greaves.

People started making jokes like “Well maybe he has something we don’t know about” or “Maybe he has hidden talents” all said with a nudge and a wink. But I can assure you after spending time with Billy in the showers after football training he wasn’t blessed with anything special in the “downstairs” department.

Wendy was absolutely besotted with him. If you saw them together she always had that dreamy look in her eyes and hung on his every word.

After a whirlwind romance and quick engagement, they were married. It was a special day and all friends and family were invited. I was the Best Man. After the ceremony we all sat down to a three course meal. Whitebait to start, followed by Monkfish as the main course and then anchovie ice cream for dessert.

During the evenings celebrations a man arrived that no one except Billy seemed to recognise. I’ve known Billy for over twenty years and I’d never seen this man before.

Billy rushed over and greeted him with a big man hug. They stood talking at the bar for ages and finally Billy went off to have the first dance with his new wife.

I decided to find out who the stranger was. I walked over and stood beside him at the bar. I offered him my hand to shake. He did.

“Hello there. I’m Steve. Billy’s Best Man”

The stranger smiled back at me.

“My name is Robert. Robert Johnson.”

I was anxious to find out more.

“So how do you know Billy?”

The man took a sip of his drink and continued.

“I met him a couple of years ago. He attended my evening classes. In fact he was my star pupil.”

I nodded.

“Ah yes. Psychology wasn’t it?”

The man looked confused and shook his head.

“Psychology? Whatever made you think that? No it was Hypnotherapy!”