OMG, the other night I had the worst case of writer's block I've ever had in a long time. That, and writer's amnesia. And writer's dementia. And general fogetting-how-to-use-the-english-language.
Anyway, here it is, Part Four. The Grand Finale. The whole Scrooge-meets-scary-hooded-thing, people bitch, sees gravestone, ARGH NO ARGH NO, ooh, it's day, happy christmas I've gone hysterical bit. That one, yes. Did I tell you I once got cast as that particular spirit? Given my height, I don't know what the drama teacher was on that day. Maybe I'm good at pointing or something. Anyway.
Title: A Bobbeh Carol (Part Four)
Warnings: The usual swears here and there, he can't be stopped. And this bit is BLOODY LONG, OMG.
A/N: It's Bobbeh3's turn as the Bobbeh of Christmas Yet to Come, and everything goes very dark. Except that it doesn't.
Disclaimer: Bobbeh Lindsay loves Christmas really, the Radio Times says so.
Starring:
Teh Lindsay
Bobbeh3
Bobbeh2
Ioan
James
Tim
Crispin
Bobbeh1
Nick T
Nick M
Alex
Paul
Part Four
It was three AM, and that meant the third and final visit of the night for Bobbeh Lindsay. And he wasn’t looking forward to it at all.
A cold sense of dread crept up his spine as he contemplated what was going to happen next. He would be seeing the Christmas Yet to Come - the future, the unknown. But even more terrifying for Lindsay was the fact that he would be guided by Bobbeh3. The eldest and most wisest Bobbeh. Who, he knew all too well, didn’t approve of Bobbeh Lindsay One Tiny Incy Bit. Bobbeh1 was harmless, Bobbeh2 he could handle, but *Bobbeh3*? It could only be tough.
With a shiver, he got up off the bed and pulled on his coat. There had been no point in trying to sleep, and however much he dreaded it, he wanted to be prepared for whatever happened next. He looked nervously around the bedroom, expecting the visitor to appear out of thin air like the other Bobbehs had done - and then he heard it.
A discreet creak downstairs. The front door had opened.
And then there came soft footsteps on the stairs, slowly, one after the other. Lindsay gulped as the footsteps grew closer outside the bedroom. The door opened, and a tall dark hooded figure entered, moving towards him.
Bobbeh Lindsay caught his breath. “Are you… Are you the Bobbeh of Christmas Yet to Come?” he whispered.
The figure lifted a hand and peeled back the hood.
“Gosh, it’s terribly cold out there!” exclaimed Bobbeh3 as he shut the door behind him. “And yes, Master Lindsay, I am indeed the Bobbeh of Christmas Yet to Come. Good to hear you’ve been paying attention, always helps,. Now, you may want to get your lighting fixed, it’s rather dark out there, and frankly a bit of a safety hazard if you don’t mind my saying so! Luckily I brought a torch, always good to be prepared!”
“Mm.” nodded Bobbeh Lindsay, forcing himself to smile in reply.
“I hope our Bobbeh2 wasn’t too much of a handful, he has been talking about you rather relentlessly all night, always a worry. In fact, between you and me, I do suspect he’s been at the sherry at least three times already tonight - still, what can you do? Shouting won’t do at Christmas now, will it? Hmm, I don’t suppose you’d know though, would you, not having two Bobbehs to look after yourself?”
Bobbeh Lindsay felt coerced to shake his head.
“Speaking of which, we’d better set off and get this over with - time is of the essence!”
Lindsay tried not to nod *too* enthusiastically.
“Quite the talker, aren’t you? Never mind - have you got your coat? Oh good, good, you’ll be needing it. Well, let’s be off then, we’ll be travelling through this- are you alright, Master Lindsay?”
Well clearly the general answer was no, but Bobbeh3 was referring to the fact that Lindsay had stuck his hand out in mid-air. Earlier on, he’d been made to hold both Bobbeh1 and Bobbeh2’s hands, something he’d certainly not felt comfortable with. Here and now, however, he liked the idea of holding Bobbeh3’s hand even less - and so had decided to face the inevitable by at least jumping in first.
“We’ll….um….. We have to hold hands for this portal thing, don’t we?” he pointed out, uncertainly.
Bobbeh3 chuckled as he cast a bemused look at Lindsay’s hand. “Why, who on earth told you that?”
“Bo…I….I… I just thought we had t…to, that’s all” stuttered Lindsay, quickly putting both hands in his pockets, and making a mental note to have a word with the younger Bobbehs.
Thankfully, his embarrassment went unnoticed as a sudden ringing noise sounded out in the bedroom, and Bobbeh3 pulled out the mobile phone Bobbeh1 had been using earlier.
“Excuse me, Master Lindsay, sounds like an emergency……Hello, Bobbeh3 here!….Bobbeh1, it’s three o’clock in the morning, it’s way past your bedtime! If you…. It’s okay, take it one word at a time…. Deep breaths, Bobbeh1.…Oh my…. Well, put Bobbeh2 on, please…. Give Bobbeh2 the telephone, yes….Bobbeh2, what on earth is he….. Did you eat it in front of him?…. Well, why on earth did you let him see you?…. Oh, Bobbeh2! You should know he never actually goes to bed the first time round…. Look, don’t fluster, just put some more out, convince him you didn’t know it was for Santa, and get him back to bed before you tell him anything else about Santa!…. I’m very busy, Bobbeh2, we’ve yet to leave…l. I’ll clean up the mess when I get back….Goodnight, Bobbehs!”
Bobbeh3 chuckled and put his phone anyway. “Ah, the cheeky scamps. Bobbeh2’s on Santa duty and Bobbeh1’s still not in bed. Still, like I said, you can’t shout at Christmas. Now, we simply *must* be off, or we’ll never get there! Come on, Master Lindsay, put that book down and let’s go…”
Lindsay sighed and put down his copy of Dicken’s A Christmas Carol he’d been referring to, somewhat bothered by the fact that his Christmas Yet to Come wasn’t going to be quite so silent. He and Bobbeh3 walked across the bedroom, and he made his third journey through the magic wall. The wall melted away to reveal a busy city street.
“Now, I have to warn you” confided Bobbeh3, “We’re going to see some things that aren’t terribly pleasant. I’d rather we just all go home and have a nice cup of tea, if I‘m honest, but see them we must! This is what will happen in the future if you don’t change your ways. And those ways are just a little bit….”
“Thuggy?” offered Bobbeh Lindsay, knowing full well what Bobbeh3 called him in the privacy of the Bobbeh household.
“’Thug’ wasn’t quite the word I was going to use, “ insisted Bobbeh3 “But yes, we can go with that.”
“I’m not a thug, Mr Bobbeh3” said Lindsay quietly.
“Don’t argue, Master Lindsay. Goodness, how you and our Bobbeh2 get on together when you’re both so argumentative, I don’t know. Ah, here we are - you might want to listen to this, Lindsay.”
Bobbeh Lindsay spun round in surprise to see Ioan, James, Tim and Bobbeh2 once again. It couldn’t be too far into the future, he deduced, as they looked pretty much the same - well, except for Bobbeh2, but that was to be expected given that he often didn’t look the same one week to the next. They all stood by the roadside, wrapped up in coats and scarves on what appeared to be a cold, bleak and misty winter’s morning.
“Yah, I heard about it last night.” Ioan was saying. “Can’t say I’m particularly surprised. Or interested, for that matter.”
James, however, looked intrigued. “I say, it’s a ghastly thing to happen to a chap, though. Most terrible twist of fate. Who do you suppose will turn up? It won’t be a very big turn out, will it?”
“It’s to be expected, really.” yawned Ioan. “For my life, I don’t know of anybody who’ll go to it. Bobbeh1 won’t after the way he was treated. Bobbeh3 certainly won’t. In fact, it looks like it’s down to us, which is certainly saying something.”
“Well, suppose we make up a party and volunteer to go?” James offered. “I mean, there’s bound to be refreshments provided. It might even be a bally good laugh. What say you, Tim? Where do you stand on the matter, given… what happened, old bean?”
“I say…. He got what he deserved.” said Tim quietly, a bitter tone in his voice. “After what happened with…with Crispy…” Seeing him struggle to talk about it, the others patted him sympathetically on the back. “I don’t wish to have any business with the man even now, but I’ll offer to go if anyone else will. But what of you, Bobbeh2? After all, you were his greatest friend… The way he treated *you*, we fully understand if you wouldn’t want to go… How do you feel about this turn of fate?”
“Oh…” Bobbeh2 thought, and waved his hand dismissively. “No, enough about that. I don’t even want to talk about *that*, for goodness sake. Let’s talk about my hair!”
And with that, they all laughed, and the subject of their gossip was forgotten. Lindsay, however, wasn’t to be fobbed off that easily. Knowing that this apparently trivial conversation must have some hidden purpose, he looked to Bobbeh3 for an explanation - but the eldest Bobbeh was already striding away, motioning urgently for Bobbeh Lindsay to follow him. Lindsay had to break into a jog to keep up with Bobbeh3’s fast (if slightly ridiculous) gait.
“But Bobbeh3!” panted Lindsay, “Who were they talking about? It was me, wasn’t it? It must be… What’s happened to me?”
“All in good time, Master Lindsay!” Bobbeh3 called back. “That’s what you’re to find out!”
“But… there was someone missing back there. Where was that Crispin fellow, why wasn’t he with them? Tim said something…”
Bobbeh3 stopped and took Bobbeh Lindsay to one side, speaking in hushed tones. “I’m afraid to say that Little Crispin cannot join his friends. In this future, Tim and myself did all we could for him, but without the crucial operation that we couldn’t afford, his condition got much worse. And now his future self is languishing in some God-forsaken hospital somewhere. Such a senseless waste! That’s all I’m at liberty to disclose right now, Master Lindsay. Now, here’s something else that you need to see…”
Bobbeh had led them away from the busy city and to a more desolate area of town - one which, being uninviting and crime-ridden, Bobbeh Lindsay had never felt the need to visit. Still reeling from the shock of Crispin’s fate, however, Lindsay blindly followed Bobbeh3 and barely noticed that they’d entered a run-down building until he looked around in surprise.
“Hey…where…. This is someone’s bedroom, isn’t it?”
Bobbeh3 nodded. “And I daresay it needs a jolly good clean!”
Now, anyone who knew Bobbeh3 would know that this comment could often be applied to the most spotless of rooms. But in this case, he did have a point - the bedroom was cluttered, dusty and unkempt. It was minutes before Bobbeh Lindsay realised that the belongings in it were, in fact, familiar.
“Wait a minute… that’s *my* bed! And my drawers… Bloody hell, this is my bedroom, isn’t it? What on earth am I…”
He reached out to open a drawer in curiosity, but Bobbeh3’s hand gently intervened. “I don’t think you should be touching anything just yet, Master Lindsay…” he warned.
The reason why soon became clear as Lindsay realised that they weren’t alone. Two visitors entered the bedroom behind them with a large case - and Lindsay recognised them instantly as the Nicks, the two kleptomaniacs who had foreshadowed this entire night in the first place. Their case simply read, ‘Nicolas & Nicolas ~ Bailiffs, innit’ and Nick M rubbed his hands with glee as he stepped in and surveyed the surroundings.
“Mein Gott! We’ve got some great pickings here, yeah?“
“Er, Nick?” said Nick T, following him in, “I HATE to get all LEGAL on you, but we haven’t technically got an ORDER to come in here…”
“Ja, ja.” Nick M sighed. “It’s Bobbeh Lindsay we’re talking about here. As long as we have a right to ni- to take stuff, is anyone going to really give a schnitzel about how we do it?”
“……Good point, yeah. Agreed Nick T, as he began to plunder small items and put them into the case (socks, a pencil case, tube of Bonjella….) “Miserable git should have been a bit more charitable and what have you in ‘first place….. Then people would have helped the poor bugger out and he wouldn’t have got himself into such a debt ridden mess. Still, at least *someone* gets to profit from him now, eh?”
“Ja, genau! Help me with this, will you?”
“You can’t take the *bed*, Nick M! Whatcha want that for, anyway? It’ll never fit in the case, it’s not worth nothing….”
Nick M shook his head, grinning, and cut open the side of the mattress, revealing an emergency wads of money stashed there.
“Nick M, you’re a genius!”
“Ich weiss, mate. Ich weiss.”
Bobbeh Lindsay watched in horror as the two Nicks continued to pillage his bedroom and belongings, powerless to stop them. The worst thing was, he knew now that their grasping and acquisitive ways were only reflecting his own materialistic interests. He was being robbed of his beloved possessions, but had already lost what should have really mattered - people. Friends who care.
“Bobbeh3,” he said hopefully, “You were right, this isn’t very, er, pleasant viewing. I’ve got the hang of it, I’ve learnt my lesson, trust me. Let’s go and have that cup of tea you were talking about…”
“Not so fast, Master Lindsay.” said Bobbeh3, shaking his head ruefully. “I’m afraid there‘s one last thing to show you…”
They left the grimy building and walked along the street, Bobbeh3 leading the way once again.
“Can’t you at least tell me what all that was about?” asked an increasingly nervous Bobbeh Lindsay. “Why was I living there, of all places? Being visited by very *dubious* bailiffs?”
“Well, I’m sure you’ve gathered by now,” explained Bobbeh3, “that your rather… thuggy, it has to be said….ways have alienated just about everyone, including Tim (who at least *respected* you) and Bobbeh2, who thought the world of you. The play I believe you’re currently working on? Well, I’m afraid to say it was a complete shambles, and you were left both out of pocket and out of dignity.”
“I see” lamented Lindsay. “That’s why I was living there then, in debt.”
“Absolutely, Master Lindsay.. But I’m afraid that’s not the end of this sorry tale. The final piece is just through here, this way…”
Bobbeh3 pointed to the gateway on their right. Lindsay turned to look, his heart thumping wildly..
“Oh… *heck*.” he whispered.
A churchyard.
Whatever the last revelation was, it wasn’t looking good.
Completely absent-mindedly, Lindsay clung onto Bobbeh3’s sleeve as they made their way through the overgrown, weed-covered grounds. He glanced uneasily at each gravestone they passed, not knowing what to expect but fearing it anyway. He was therefore struck by surprise when they reached the other side of the churchyard, and in fact passed through the gates. Then, and only then, did Bobbeh3 come to a halt.
“That was our shortcut,” he explained. “Don’t want to drag this out any longer than necessary, do we? Now, I’m afraid I’ve brought you to your final warning, Master Lindsay. If you change your ways, then fate will be drastically rewritten. If not, your life will undoubtedly follow the course you have seen tonight, the result of which…. is on your left.
As much as he didn’t want to, Bobbeh Lindsay could feel his head turn. As much as he no longer wanted to know, his eyes looked up to the wall on his left. And there it was. His name, his likeness, for all to see.
Bobbeh Lindsay. Appearing as Buttons for 12 nights only!
His life had come to this. A fourth-rate pantomime, the main attraction of which seemed to be the free refreshments and the promise of Lindsay making an arse of himself for the money. For twelve nights.
“No, Bobbeh3! Oh no, no!” he cried, blatantly clinging onto Bobbeh3’s coat now. “Believe me, I’m not the Bobbeh Lindsay I once was! I don’t wish to live like him anymore! I want to honour Christmas, and… and bring other people into my life! Respect them, love them, and …. Stuff! I’ve been a complete miserable selfish *bastard* and I’ve learnt my lesson, I promise!”
“Heavens, mind your language, Lindsay!” chided Bobbeh3, “And mind that…. Manhole!”
But it was too late - in his anguish, Lindsay had fallen to his knees, only to topple over into an open manhole and fall even further than intended. His landing, thankfully, was rather soft. In fact, someone had very thoughtfully put a duvet and pillow down there - people must be falling down manholes all the time, thought Lindsay.
And then he realised that he was, of course, in his own bed. In his own (quite clean and kept) bedroom with all his belongings intact. Well, except for a pair of shoes, but Lindsay failed to notice this, or indeed care, when he was too distracted by the fact that it was now Christmas morning and last night’s events were truly over. He scrambled out of bed, eager to get on with this new day and his fresh start.
In keeping with this, Bobbeh Lindsay felt the need to act completely out of character, and so threw the window open and leant out in the bright sunshine enthusiastically. “A merry Christmas to everybody! A happy new year to each and every bloody one of you! Hallo there!” He laughed at his own silliness. It was a very impressive laugh too, for someone who’d been out of practice.
Lindsay then shut the window (it was bloody freezing, after all), and attempted to get ready for the day. Shaving wasn’t an easy task - for a start his hands continued to shake from excitement; and shaving requires attention, even when you don’t dance while you’re doing it. But even the possibility of slicing his nose off couldn’t bother Bobbeh Lindsay right now.
Dressed in his finest formal wear, he was eventually ready to step outside and head off down the streets, intending to make his way to the Blonde’s diner that Bobbeh2 had shown him. On the way, he smiled at everyone he met with an infectious grin he hadn’t used for so long. Suddenly, the words’ Merry Christmas’ were the best words a stranger could say to him.
Outside the diner, he was somewhat surprised to spot some familiar faces - there stood Alex and Paul, the ‘charity’ collectors he had rebuffed on Christmas Eve. They were joined by the two Nicks, and the four of them shook collecting tins enthusiastically. Lindsay was nervous about approaching them, ashamed of his previous behaviour, but he knew what he must do.
“Hello there!” he called. “Hope you did well yesterday, it was very kind of you. With any luck, there aren’t many selfish bastards like myself around right now. Speaking of which, I’d like to rectify that. I’d like, if I may-” here, Lindsay whispered in Alex’s ear.
Not much shocked Alex, as Nick M would testify, but this did. “Blood-y hell!” he gasped, “Are you fae serious, or what?”
“Absolutely.” grinned Lindsay. “Not a penny less, I assure you. Merry Christmas!”
Leaving Alex excitedly scribbling down his details with the Anonymous Pen, Lindsay turned to the diner door. It took a few minutes to muster up the courage to go in, but when he did, he flew inside and straight to the table where Tim and company always sat.
“Tim!” he barked, as close to his usual gruff voice as he could make it, “What do you think you’re playing at, fannying around in a diner when you should be at rehearsals!
“I…I…I’m sorry, Mr Lindsay.” stuttered Tim, startled at this entrance. “I had no idea…. Terribly sorry…No idea I was needed…”
“I’m not going to stand for this sort of thing any longer! Because - “ continued Lindsay, “I’m going to raise your salary instead.”
Tim, and indeed the rest of the table, did an uncanny impression of fish at feeding tine as they gawped at Bobbeh Lindsay in astonishment.
“That’s….that’s…wonderful, Mr Lindsay!” gasped Tim. “Th-th-thank you ever so much!”
“Merry Christmas Tim, and I mean that.” smiled Lindsay “I’ll happily raise your salary if it helps Crispin’s predicament in any way possible.”
Lindsay was relieved to see that Crispin was indeed at Tim’s side once again, covered in tinsel and looking lively despite his crutches.
“Hurrah!” Crispin applauded. “Bless you, Mr Lindsay! I shall raise a glass to your decency and generosity, sir!”
“And-” Lindsay continued, “It’s probably not much, but I brought along some provisions to supplement your Christmas lunch. I heard that….what are they called? Westcliffe? Wetslide?….don’t offer much in the way of culinary delights, so I thought I’d help out. Anyway, I best be off, you lads won’t be wanting a miserable, cantankerous git like myself spoiling your celebrations…”
“I beg to differ!” protested Ioan. “I for one would be most delighted for you to join us on this fine day!”
“Are… are you sure?”
“Absolutely!” agreed James. “It’s about time you took up Timmy’s invitation, old chap! I’ll go and get an extra chair….”
“So au contraire, Mr Lindsay, as Bobbeh2 would undoubtedly say…” chuckled Ioan. “Speaking of which, the Bobbehs will be along soon, and I’m sure they’ll be most pleased to see you here, especially our Bobbeh2.”
Bobbeh Lindsay took his seat, unable to help grinning at this news. The surprise he’d just given Tim was *nothing* compared to the shock he was going to give Bobbeh2.…
God bless us everyone, and all that.