Parcel for you...Part 30

 

‘There,’ Annie pulled the rim down so that it obscured his forehead, ’that’s better, you can’t see his face as much.’

 

Spencer stopped in his tracks. ‘What’s wrong with my face?’

 

‘There’s absolutely nothing wrong with your face, Spencer,’ said Vanessa, it’s just that most of the people here are sort of crusty and you’re not, we want you to blend into the crowd and be part of things, that’s all.’

 

‘He won’t get hot will he Mum, under all that wool?’

 

Vanessa shook her head and mouthed the word, no. 

 

‘Wool is a material which keeps you cool as well as warm, not that I need worry too much about that. I do have an internal thermometer, it’s seventeen degrees at the moment. Perfect for semi-active humans. If it goes above thirty five, my fan will kick in and it’s quite loud.’

 

Stuart was standing with a pint in his hand and a purple bandana tied around his forehead. He turned and immediately his eyes lingered over Vanessa’s cleavage. ‘Nice dress, Vanessa, red suits you.’

 

‘Thank you. I don’t wear this too often. I think the last time was on holiday. I’ve had it for years…years and years.’ Vanessa looked beyond Stuart towards Pat and they rushed and gave each other a hug. ‘So nice to see you.’

 

‘Lovely to see you,’ they exchanged a kiss on the cheek, ’and to see you’ve still got your man and he’s out and about..’ her eyes lit up, ‘in public!’

 

Vanessa was herself surprised that Pat and Stuart were still together. He appeared just as shifty as she remembered and for all his supposed artistry he looked as if he were trying too hard with all his usual dangly embellishments while dead behind the eyes. She remembered her disappointment at realising that Spencer would never be an artist and felt relieved to know that some artists were fakers or simply rubbish, surfing on the latest trend. Well she was about to find out if this was true or not about Stuart and his cronies.

 

‘Yes, Spencer was desperate to come along. He’s recently become a keen music fan so thanks for the tickets. I just need to keep an eye on him. If I lose him, it’ll be a disaster, believe me!’

 

‘You’ll never lose him in that hat, although,’ Pat leaned closer and whispered, ‘there’s another one here, do you know that?’

 

‘What, another person in the same toadstool hat?’

 

‘No! Well I suppose there could be but there’s another robotic man here, Stuart saw him when we arrived, he pointed him out to me.’

 

‘Really, are you sure?’

 

‘Positive. He’s with another man, they were holding hands.’

 

‘Oh gosh. I don’t know what to make of that. I’d like to keep them apart I think. If you see him, please let me know won’t you.’

 

‘Of course..but you never know, they might become friends.’

 

‘I think that’s what I’m worried about, two together, might be…you know, too powerful or something.’

 

Pat laughed. It was apparent that she still viewed Spencer as a harmless object of ridicule. Vanessa knew different. She turned to see her husband who had broken away from her and was now standing in a circle with Stuart and some other members of the Hominids of Quasar. He stood out because they all had beers in their hands but he was standing perfectly still, with his arms crossed and a felted wool toadstool on his head.

 

Vanessa sidled up to him, nudging him gently. ‘Hello,’ she said weakly, glancing at the men.’

 

 

‘This is his mrs,’ said Stuart, ‘Great hat you’ve got him there!’

 

‘My daughter brought it for him, she thought it would help him fit in.’

 

The men all burst out into peels of laughter. ‘Well isn’t he allowed a pint?’ said one, accusingly.

 

‘No, no, Spencer can’t have liquids.’

 

‘No liquids, that’s a good one! My wife tried to force that on me for a while but I told her that, as a lead singer, beer is essential for the lubrication of my voice. Actually, I’ll have to check with her if I’m allowed a second before our turn on stage. Not sure where she’s got to though.’

 

‘Probably spending all your money on wind chimes. Quick get another round quick in, Brian. I’ll have his one.’

 

Spencer whispered in Vanessa’s ear, ‘Maybe I could have one of those big brown drinks too, and just hold it,’

 

‘What just stand there with it in your hand?’

 

‘He could tip a bit out every now and then,’ said Annie, ‘just to fit in, or I could sip it. That’s what you want isn’t it, for him to be like everyone else. I’ll go and get him one.’

 

Annie rushed off to the bar and left her mother hovering around Spencer and the band members. She felt awkward, torn between letting her husband enjoy himself and protecting him from the other men who were lightly scrutinising his every move and keen to compete with each other with their humorous comments.

 

‘So how long have you two been erm..together?’ said Brian.

 

‘Oh, about three or four months now.’

 

‘We’re husband and wife,’ Spencer interjected.

 

Brian pulled a face, drawing down the corners of his mouth while he nodded his head slowly. ‘Now that’s where being human has its advantages,’ he said, ‘because if you were a real human male, you wouldn’t have rushed into that one, mate.’

 

Spencer looked confused. ‘I didn’t rush, I was manufactured to be a husband.’

 

‘Oh you poor guy, I know how you feel.’ He laid his hand on Spencer's shoulder then held it there for a few seconds as if he were assessing what it felt like. ‘Listen, I’ll have to love you and leave you in a minute. I’ve got to get up on stage and I need to warm up my voice.’

 

Annie returned and handed the pint to Spencer who seemed to struggle at first to hold it steady. Brian, Stuart and the other men all saw and broke out into loud cries of, ‘Waaaay!’ and applause as if he’d achieved something of greatness and he couldn’t help adopting a proud smile as he lifted his pint so that it hovered just below his lips. 

 

‘Aren’t you having a drink, Annie?’

 

‘No Mum. I’ll need my hands free for when the music starts. I’m going to do some of my mysterious dancing in a minute when these boring farts leave the stage.’

 

The current band up on stage were the type with acoustic guitars and a very high-pitched female vocalist with dead straight, long mousy hair, singing about the brutally short length of a butterfly’s life and the scything of golden corn. Vanessa glanced up at them and sighed. ‘I can’t guarantee that The Hominids of Quasar will be any better.’

 

‘I researched them, they looked pretty cool actually, experimental…like my dancing.’

 

Vanessa felt very uncomfortable now. Her dress was a bit tight around the waist, she could feel dust gathering between the soles of her feet and the bed of her sandals and she quickly realised that these events were simply intolerable without alcohol or some other suitable substance.

 

The other band wound up their act and Stuart raised his hand towards the sky and let out a whoop as he led the other towards a door followed by Brian and the other bandmates. 

 

‘What did that man mean, you poor guy?’ said Spencer.

 

‘Oh just ignore him. Men like that are the reason I got you, Spencer, you’re so much better than all of them.’

 

‘Do you want some of my pint?’

 

‘Yes actually, I think I will.’