Blah blah blah poll blah blah blah Badger meeting the clopper.
Blah blah mug of tea blah blah Tonka Toys blah stegzy…Read on
Clair and I are living together. The wall of casualties include:-
Guy and Jane – split due to involvement by Ray
Sarah – Heartbroken and fucked about by Ray
Dawn – exgirlfriend last seen in the Liverpool Echo proclaiming undying love for her new beau
We left Ray on one of his downward spirals of self-destruction attempting to drag as many people with him as possible.
Part 5. The Confrontation
I knew he had designs on getting back into our flat and I wasn’t prepared to let him get his way. During this time Clair had taken to the couch with a severe bout of glandular fever. A really bad bout of it. Poor thing. I was doing alot of the house stuff because Clair couldn’t manage. Of course this pleased Ray in his own selfish little way as this meant he could gain access to the flat while there was someone there and work on softening Clair up to get the nod to move back.
Ray would come round most days showing off his latest bit of kit that he’d “paid” for using bouncy cheques. I knew technically what he was doing was tantamount to theft and it would only take either a call to the bank or maybe a nod to the police. He was basically getting stuff with no intention or means of paying. A really bad lad! We started getting letters and calls from bailiffs enquiring about Ray but, with me not being a grass, I didn’t tell them anything. I had to deal the blow. Like Luke had to kill Darth to become a Jedi. I had to thwart Ray to become…er…. a man yeah! a MAN! But as always these opportunities only present themselves to the quick and eagle eyed. I was neither.
Ray needed some bits for his PC. The PC he was building. It was curious he should say that because Jamie1 would disagree. There was a Computer fair in Wigan and he asked if I wanted to go too, I said I would as I needed stuff too. Ray had charmed some Spanish girl I didn’t know, into driving us up to Wigan Pier in her 2CV. So me, Ray, this girl and Brian the weasel 2 headed up to the M6 to the wonders of Wigan.
On the way we stopped for petrol. Ray kindly volunteered to pay for the fuel and walked out to the pay point leaving us in the car waiting. I happened to remark that we should be prepared to make a sharp departure and hide our faces from the camera. When questioned by the fellow passengers I explained that technically we could be named as accomplices after the fact and that Ray was paying for goods without funds. The silence that followed surely meant that this was starting to sink in. But the rest of the journey and trip round the pier was uneventful. Ray spent a grand total of £1000 on computer equipment. All I could do was look on with dismay.
The next day Ray came round on the bounce. Banging and stomping. Being cold and he had a menacing look in his eyes. He wasn’t happy about something. That something was my throw away comment in the car which had been relayed to him by his loyal puppy Brian the Weasel. But Ray thought he could use this against me and put me in a bad place with Clair (who, if you remember, was convalescing on the couch with glandular fever). Ray never was good at being direct. He was good at sniping until your guard was down and he could go in guns blazing. But I knew his tactic well. I let him wind himself up with his snarky remarks he then went in for the attack.
“What’s this you’ve been saying about me?” he demanded.
And that’s when I let rip. I went straight for the balls. Telling him about how he was nothing but a petty criminal, how I didn’t want him coming round any more, how I’d realised what a waste of space and time he had been and how realistically he would never amount to anything but a scum bag that nobody gave a shit about. I must have touched a raw nerve because next thing I knew he was using his own cutting tongue and sending in a volley of weak accusations and suppositions about me. But they were all ten years old. Stuff that might have stuck if I was 15. But I wasn’t, I was a good deal older and the remarks just fell off while I fired another volley, mentioning his aborted illegitimate child with an under-age girl and recalling the sleaze behind all that. By this time Clair was getting a bit distressed at all the tension in the air. Ray tried to suggest that because I had had an affair with Clair behind Dawns back that I could be having an affair behind her back. Finally my chance arose….the words…they had to be said…..”Take her off me hands mate” “Take…..her……off……me……hands…..mate” pauses between each word. I relished every syllable. It worked. The look on his face said it all. He never thought I’d repeat that, especially not in front of Clair. Clair boiled and bellowed at him to get out of the flat, the whole event had been too much for her. Ray turned, left the very key he let himself in with and walked out of the flat, his Weasel following behind.
Later I explained everything about Ray to Clair. I told her all about his secret past, pointed out how he had been a total shit most of his life and how he went through self-destructive spirals. Clair listened and I noticed how realisation was starting to sink in. We shared stories about how he’d been deceitful, how in the past he had ripped both Clair and I off by him swapping inferior stuff he no longer wanted for your items of better quality. We both agreed we were better off without him and burnt all our bridges relating to him. He tried to email an apology to Clair, not to me, but Clair just replied detailing how she now realised what a fuckwit he was. He must have accepted this as, to this day, we have not heard from him since.
The final obstacle had been removed the Badger had his Clopper. The Badger had slain Darth Vader. The Clopper’s health returned and her job improved. The Badger changed jobs twice. Then, one day in June 2002, at the top of Braich-y-Pwll just outside Uwchmynnyd in Wales, the badger asked the Clopper to marry him. She said yes and in October 2003 we were married. The rest?
Well thats another story….which you are already reading 😉
1Jamie now lives in Preston, anything I didn’t know about computers I’d learn from him. He’s really talented but sadly lazy and has never done more than 6 months work at the same place of employ. I have amusing anecdotes about Jamie but I shall save them for another time.
2Brian the weasel was exactly that…a weasel. He was younger than us all, about 23 at the time, had dark hair and weaselly eyes. He never said much and when he did it was mumbled. As far as I knew he lived with his Gran in Everton, having been kicked out of his paternal home. He followed Ray about like a loyal spaniel and in some way reminded me of how I used to look up to Ray. I suppose that’s one of the reasons why I didn’t like him.