Chapter 15

‘Good to see you.’

‘I wanted to come out when I heard about the accident, but work…’ Alec Freeman shrugged and dropped his bag in the boot of Straker’s car. ‘You know how it is. Couldn’t have come now but for the transfer. Anyway, you look well.  How’s the General?’

‘Convalescing.  Slowly.’ Straker took his cap off and smoothed his hair back into place. ‘Three months isn’t very long though.’

‘Long enough for you.’ Freeman grinned and clapped Straker on the back. ‘That was the last thing I expected. An invite to your wedding.’

Straker busied himself with opening doors and getting into the car. ‘A lot can happen in three months Alec.’

‘Obviously. Damn, I’ve missed this weather.’ Freeman brushed the fine droplets of rain from his coat and fastened his seat belt.

‘There’s something I need to ask.’ Straker took a deep breath. ‘I need a best man. Would you..?’

‘Me?’ Freeman leaned back in his seat. ‘No one else? No family?’

‘No. There’s no-one.’ Straker bit his lip. ‘Of course, if you’d rather not..’ His voice trailed away.

‘Ed, I’d be honoured. Really. I just thought there might be someone closer.’

‘No. No one.’ He gripped the wheel tighter, stared ahead.

‘Stag night?’ Freeman rubbed his hands together. ‘We’ve got a week before the wedding. Just enough time for me to arrange something.’

The car swerved to avoid a puddle. Straker peered forward through the fine spray of drizzle. ‘There’s no need for that. A couple of drinks is fine, something like that.’

‘Leave it to me Ed. Best man’s job. You just have to turn up and enjoy the evening.’

Straker could hear unfeigned glee in Alec’s voice but it was too late to reverse his decision. And anyway, what could Alec manage to organise in one week; Mary’s party had taken the best part of two weeks to organise, so it was unlikely that his own bachelor party or stag night as Alec called it, would be easier whatever it entailed. He took one hand from the steering wheel and felt the shortness of his hair again.  No ceremonial cutting of hair, no traditional meal surrounded by family and friends.

But this was Earth and he would comply with its traditions, uncomfortable though they might be. It was only one evening. What could go wrong?

‘So, the Embassy for the wedding.  Who decided that?’ Alec shuffled deeper in his seat, and leaned back with a sigh of contentment. ‘You know, it’s good to be back.’

‘Mary’s idea. I’m going to be busy helping Henderson once he’s up on his feet, so it seems sensible to get married before I start.’

‘Sensible?’ Alec frowned. ‘Pull over Ed. There’s a pub just over there. I need a pint.’

A pint. Straker sipped tomato juice while Alec downed his glassful in one long draught and sighed. ‘Now. Sensible; does that mean she’s… you’ve..?’ He took one look at Straker’s somewhat blank expression. ‘No. Obviously not. Quick work though.’ He grinned. ‘Another drink? And you can bring me up to date with what’s been going on.’

……….

Straker tugged at his collar again. The striped open-necked shirt, Alec’s purchase for him to wear tonight, was uncomfortable, not just the stiffness of the new material but the colour and pattern. But it would have been churlish to refuse. He would insist on returning home before midnight, despite Alec’s warning that it would be the early hours before he got back to the small apartment he was renting from the embassy for the duration of his stay here.

The taxi was waiting, horn blowing and Alec leaning out of the window making raucous comments. Straker hurried down, fastening his jacket and thankful that the weather was still mild for mid-November.

‘So. Ready for a good evening?’ Alec had that look on his face, indicating trouble ahead. It was too late to make his excuse. He swallowed nervously, but the evening would soon pass, and after all, he had made few enough acquaintances  here to make it anything more practical than a few drinks in a pub and maybe Alec’s choice of take-away on the way home afterwards.  He would stick with tomato juice and let his friend take charge.

The taxi pulled up outside a long row of restaurants and bars facing the waterfront, not Alec’s usual choice, modern clean lines, huge windows, bright lights and live music.  Alec handed over notes. ‘Back here at 2 to pick us up?’

‘Sure thing.’ The driver touched his forehead in a mock salute. ‘Try to behave yourselves,  gentlemen.’ He drove off, and Straker stood on the pavement looking around. This area was new to him.  He recognised the buildings though; the symbols of money and prestige and power. CanaryWharf.  The bars still busy with financiers celebrating the end of another week, mostly men but a few women in sharp suits and high heels. A man’s world here, even in this time of equality.

Not his world though, these bright lights, the outward signs of control and wealth and influence. His world was secret, hidden away from sight. Yet SHADO, if it was approved,  would have more power than all these companies put together. And more financial backing as well.  He looked around, taking in the views: the skyscrapers with lights on in supreme  defiance of energy-saving requests, the guarded  roadways devoid of vehicles apart from taxis, the still water in the small docks glistening with reflections from lights  festooning  bare trees.  A beautiful environment in its own way, yet a monument to pride and greed and success. A hand grasped his elbow.

‘This way.’

He followed as Alec headed for the first of the bars, pushing the door open and walking in with a grin. A sense of disquiet filled him as he saw familiar faces ahead.  Jackson and others. Seats reserved for them at a table. He cast one alarmed look at Alec, busy greeting everyone at the table.

‘Ed. Sit down. First round’s on me.’

He sat. Nothing else to do. Jackson purred a greeting in his inimitable Eastern European accent, the other men raised their glasses as Alec poured a couple of beers from one of the  jugs already on the table. He recognised acquaintances, men he spoke to on his frequent visits to the Embassy, collecting official documents sent from the States, and reporting on Henderson’s status. He’d eaten with them in the Embassy restaurant a few times, enjoying the conversation, the sense of camaraderie.  ‘Mike, Dan, Victor..’ he scanned the men sitting round  the table, alarmed to see so many here. Over a dozen all together  including Alec and himself.  He wondered if he had brought enough money for the evening, although the bar would accept cards.

‘Looking forward to the evening?’ Jackson murmured, hooded eyes regarding him with interest.

‘I am not sure what to expect. This was never part of our customs.’  A more formal response than was necessary given the situation. He lowered his eyes, took a mouthful of beer. A stronger brew than he had tasted for some time. The last drink with Alec in the States before flying over here. He could feel the bite, the strength of well-brewed beer. The taste of sunshine and hops. He took another drink and wiped froth from his lips. A few pints wouldn’t do him any harm once in a while.

‘Your customs?  I would like to know more about those. I find other cultures most intriguing.’  Jackson raised his glass in salute.  ‘However, I believe Colonel Freeman has a relatively restrained evening planned for you, considering the usual entertainments on these occasions. It will be an opportunity for you to experience some of the more fascinating delights of the city.’ He finished his own beer and poured another, then turned away as Alec sat down, wrapping one arm around Straker’s shoulder.

‘Come on Ed. Drink up. We’re a couple of pints behind the rest of everyone else and there’s a lot to get through before we move on.’ Alec lifted his glass. ‘Gentlemen. A toast. To Full bird Straker; a fledgling about to leave the nest for the first time. Here’s to your maiden flight, Colonel. And a safe landing.’ There was a raucous burst of laughter, and Straker gulped a few more mouthfuls, ears burning as he deciphered the thinly-veiled meaning. Alec downed his own pint then poured another before slapping Straker on the shoulder again. ‘Don’t worry Ed, there’s more to come. I promise.’

Straker wasn’t sure if his friend was referring to the beer or jokes. He searched remembering Alec’s kindness and the calm presence in the back of his mind. There was no malice here, nothing more than a friend wishing to make sure the evening went well. And, after all, there would have been the gentle yet ribald comments on the occasion of having his hair cut and in the presence of family as well. He realised with a shock that this was, in some ways, his rite of passage. And not just that, it was the cementing of a true friendship; one that would endure for years. He felt the tension leave his shoulders and he picked up his glass and drained it, then pushed it over for refilling. He had done his research; his role tonight was to play the role of innocent dupe, and he would fulfil his duties as groom-to-be and go along with what Alec had planned.

It was a couple of hours later, in the third bar along the row, when Alec looked at his watch and called a halt to the third round of Pass the Camera and the jokes about wedding nights and the discussions about dream baseball teams and the arguments about the lack of decent sports in the UK, ordering everyone to drink up and move on again.

‘Come on Ed. Keep up. Next place is round the corner. You can sit down there.’  Alec was wandering away and Straker hurried to catch up, nearly missing his footing on an unexpected step close to the dock edge.

‘Oops.’ He caught hold of the rail, looking down into dark water as Alec took his arm.

‘You’re not allowed to stop yet. We’re just getting started. The night is young.’

The walk round the corner gave him time to clear his head and steady his feet, time for his senses to realise that the beer was stronger than anticipated. But it had tasted good. Very good. All of it. He’d drunk at least four pints, if not more, plus the couple of shots, or was it more, of vodka in that rather infantile game with the camera. It was hard to keep track of exactly how much, with the way Alec and the others refilled his glass every time he put it down.  But even he had laughed when the flash went off as Alec was pulling a face, only to drop the camera and earn the penalty of an extra shot to be downed. He hoped the photographs would not surface sometime soon, if ever.

‘This way.’ The doors opened and they heard singing, a woman’s voice, off key and shrill and drunken. Not a professional singer then. Straker winced as he heard a high note turn into little more than a creak. Alec called out. ‘Jackson? Got a table reserved.  At the front.’  Straker headed across, but Alec stopped him. ‘Not so fast Ed. This is for you.’  He handed over a small package.

A gift? He held it in careful fingers, turning it over for inspection.

‘Well, open it.’ Freeman’s voice had that curious note of stifled laughter. The other men waiting as well, and grinning.

It was a length of wide ribbon, pale blue, shot through with silver and fastened together at one end to form a sash. His hands trembled as he lifted it up, memories of another length of material, another time, and then he saw the lettering. ‘Very funny  Alec.’ He managed to sound amused.

‘Put it on then,’ Alec said even as he was lifting the loop of ribbon over Straker’s head and raising his arm to push it through. ‘There. Identification. Now you can come in. The first song is yours by the way.’ There was more laughter from the other men and he wondered what it was that could be so humorous. The sash was tight over his shoulder, the vivid lettering, ‘Groom To Be’, clashing with his shirt, with everything really. He shifted his shoulders to get it settled into place and, slightly bemused and feeling as if he was the focus of all attention in the room, followed the others to a table near the stage, wondering if it was too late to make a discreet exit as he realised what was in store next. The night was going to be longer than he thought.  At least Alec hadn’t made him wear a costume.  He had seen some of them when he researched the traditions of a night such as this. The thought made him shudder.