Cauliflower Heart: A Romantic Wrestler by Headline Books / Zoom Into Books

“With Cauliflower Heart Diana Hart Smith allows us to not only to enjoy the lines of her fine first novel, but to read between those lines to get a better feel for what it was like to grow up with the wrestling business as essential to life as the air she breathed.” —Mick Foley, New York Times #1 best-selling author Member WWE Hall of Fame

“Diana Hart has a unique perspective on the cultural phenomenon that is professional wrestling. There’s no doubt her fictional account in the Cauliflower Heart trilogy carries more than a grain of truth.” —Patrick Lennon Fightin’ Talk Editor, Daily Star, UK

“From wrestling royalty comes this insightful, emotive tale of the true, human costs of ‘the bizness’. Where what’s fantastic is made real, and what’s real is rarely, if ever told.” —Billy Corgan, TV Producer, Author, and lead singer and guitarist of The Smashing Pumpkins

“Diana Hart takes us on an authentic and poignant journey of a wife and mother who comes from a respected wrestling lineage and tells the unique tale of courage and love from a place of deep understanding.” —Gail Kim, Former WWE Divas Champion and former TNA Knockouts Champion, Pro Wrestling Illustrated 2012 Top Female Wrestler in the World

CAULIFLOWER HEART

A Romantic Wrestler

Diana Hart

Publisher Page an imprint of Headline Books, Inc. Terra Alta, WV

Cauliflower Heart: A Romantic Wrestler By Diana Hart copyright ©2015 Diana Hart All rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents, except where noted otherwise, are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any other resemblance to actual people, places or events is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any other form or for any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage system, without written permission from Publisher Page. Publisher Page P.O. Box 52, Terra Alta, WV 26764 www.PublisherPage.com Tel/Fax: 800-570-5951 Email: mybook@headlinebooks.com www.HeadlineBooks.com www.OfficialDianaHart.com Publisher Page is an imprint of Headline Books, Inc. Cover and author photo by Jordon Gooden, JordenGooden.com Makeup Artist, Amanda Hedley Cover Models, Theo Muran & Stephanie Mosher ISBN 13: 978-1-882658-32-9 Library of Congress Control Number: 2015939492 Smith, Diana Hart Cauliflower hart: a romantic wrestler / Diana Hart p. cm. ISBN 978-1-882658-32-9 PRINTED

THE

U N I T E D S TAT E S

AMERICA

Cauliflower Heart is dedicated to my children Harry and Georgia, to my family, and to the special ones that are no longer with us

Thank you to Adam Barry, Brian and Sheila Bird, Champions Creed MMA School, Drew Culbreath, Debbie Kinakin, Jason Pierce, Elaina Robbins, Cathy Teets, and Louis Valazquez for their help. Without them Cauliflower Heart would never have made it to the happy ending it has.

Cauliflower ear: An acquired deformity or hardening of the ear, to which fighters are particularly susceptible, caused by trauma; for some fighters, a cauliflower ear is considered a badge of courage and experience.

Cauliflower Heart

Diana Hart Smith

PROLOGUE “Can you sign me program, Claudine?” “It’s an honour to shake your hand.” “Your husband is me favourite wrestler!” Claudine smiled and waved, signing pictures and programs and shaking hands. Her mum and dad would be pleased that it was a full house. “Can your kids sign too, if you don’t mind?” asked one young fan in a wheelchair, handing her a black sharpie and the evening’s wrestling program. He was wearing a white T-shirt with a coloured image of Drew Bellamy, IWF Superstar silk-screened on the front. “Oh, sure. What’s your name?” Claudine asked loudly through the noise of the shouting fans. She looked at the cover—it featured her brother, Toasty, doing a flying head-butt off the top turnbuckle. “It’s Jamie,” said the boy, clearly delighted to be engaged in conversation with the family. Claudine passed the program to her children, who were crowded around her legs. Dempsey was six and Isabella was five, but the pair of them were already used to wrestling fans asking for autographs. Claudine immediately perked up when she heard the first few chords of Bryan Adams’ “This Heart’s On Fire.” It was her husband Drew Bellamy’s ring entrance music, declaring to her and the other thousand fans crowded into the Grand Hall that Drew Bellamy was soon coming to the ring. “C’mon, we have to keep the aisle clear. Take your seats!” shouted one of the ushers as he shooed the fans away from Claudine and her children. Fans cheered and rose to their feet as Drew made his entrance, raising one hand in the air and walking down the cement aisle. He looked like a Greek god in his custom-white wrestling trunks, 9

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which left his broad chest bare and glistening under the bright stadium lights. The trunks had black detailing to match the laces of his high white wrestling boots, including a faux fly that sat an inch below his naval. He spotted Claudine and gave her a quick, private wink as he reached out and touched the dozens of outstretched hands reaching for him over the metal railings. Some fans touched whatever part of his body they could reach; the odd fan even slapped him on the back and with so many fans swarming up as he walked to the ring, there was not a lot he could do about it. The crowd was a rowdy one tonight. They had just seen Toasty wrestle a five-star match against The Phenom, the tag-team partner to Maximus, Drew’s masked opponent for the night. Drew had been wrestling Maximus around the country and on the Saturday afternoon IWF television shows for the past few weeks. Before that, Drew and Toasty squared off against the masked duo of The Phenom and Maximus as a team. It had all been leading up to this moment. The full house screamed, whistled, blew horns, and clapped ferociously as their main event hero climbed into the ring between the middle and top red and white ropes. Claudine smiled as she watched. Their last show in Kilmarnock, only two months ago, had been a full house, too. Claudine enjoyed Kilmarnoc so much that she and the children would drive up early with Drew and go to the Cumnock Factory Outlet Mall in Ayrshire, where they would do some shopping before having a bite to eat and a cappuccino at the café. These days they could buy whatever they wanted and not worry about money, thanks to years of blood, sweat, and pain across several generations of Bonhams. Back when Claudine’s father, Billy Bonham, won the Olympic gold medal in amateur wrestling for Great Britain, he started The Imperial Wrestling Federation. There had been ups and downs, with some years being skinnier than others, but Drew and Toasty brought the IWF to new heights. Her husband and brother looked and moved like action heroes in a cartoon—they had personality, guts, and muscles that made them a special breed. They were the best thing to hit the wrestling world since television. Claudine was a celebrity now too,

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here in the UK, just because she was Drew’s glamorous wife. For now, life couldn’t be better and it felt so damned good to Claudine. “And in the white trunks, weighing in at 18 ½ stone, out of Chester, England, is Drewwwwww Belllllamy!” shouted the tubby ring announcer who was dressed in a shiny black waistcoat. He waited for the excited fans to cheer their hearts out for Drew before going on to introduce Maximus. “And wearing the blue trunks, white tights and blue and white mask, from Detroit, Michigan, weighing in at 17½ stone, is Maximussssssss!” The fans booed adamantly as the giant masked wrestler made his way into the ring. “You stink, Maximus!” “You’re so ugly your mum put you in a mask when you were a baby!” And the match began. Drew and Maximus circled each other a few times around the ring before locking up. Drew was slightly taller and bigger than Maximus, but both were athletic and well-muscled. “Is he really ugly, Mum, is that why he wears the mask?” Isabella asked, peering up at her mother. “No, he’s a fugitive,” said Jamie, who was still next to the family. Claudine smiled, wondering where Jamie that heard this bit of misinformation. “What’s a fugitive, Mum?” Dempsey asked, his blue eyes wide with curiosity. “Oh, it’s a person running away from the police because they did something bad. But it would be hard for someone to do something bad to Daddy, he’s too big and strong,” Claudine said. “We best find our seats before the match starts.”

Cauliflower Heart

Diana Hart Smith

PART ONE

1 THE BONHAMS Billy was slicing thick roast beef sandwiches diagonally on the old chopping block when Louisa brought their two teenagers into the kitchen. They sat at the large, old-white dining table as Billy carried the big platter of sandwiches to the table. “We heard this morning that poor Tommy Bellamy passed away,” said Billy solemnly. “It was coming, we all knew it, but it’s still a shame, especially for young Drew.” “Oh, poor Drew. He’s an orphan now!” said Claudine. She was shy, even for a fourteen-year-old and Drew was her best friend. In fact, he was her only friend, aside from her younger brother Toasty. “Father Roberts called us this morning from the infirmary,” said Louisa. “He said Tommy passed away in his sleep. He’ll be with his Tracy now. Cancer took her quick, too.” “Where’s Drew?” demanded Toasty. “He’s all on his own! Shouldn’t we go round and get him? He shouldn’t be by himself at a time like this!” He was thirteen and, like Claudine, was very close to Drew. 13

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“Tommy spoke with your mum and me about what would happen to his Drew when he died,” said Billy. “We wanted Drew to stay on with us here at the farm until he’s of age. Later on, he will have Tommy’s estate to call home again. But ‘til then, he’ll stay on here, downstairs, and live with us as part of our family. Now c’mon, eat up!” Claudine and Toasty exchanged a happy glance as they helped themselves to sandwiches. Claudine opened her mouth wide and bit into her enormous sandwich, mayonnaise and spicy mustard dripping all down her hand as the bread broke apart. She thought how good her sandwich tasted and how wrong children at school were to tease her about being a messy eater. But not Drew. He never picked on her. “I remember when Tommy brought Drew over for the first time,” she said once she managed to swallow her mouthful of food. “He was only eight, maybe nine. He jumped right in and started helpin’ me and Toasty repaint the ring posts red.” She left out that after they finished painting the ring posts, she, Drew and Toasty all got in the ring and wrestled. She knew her parents frowned upon her wrestling—they thought it was unladylike for girls to wrestle, especially with boys. If her parents did catch them, Claudine smoothly transitioned her agile body out of the wrestling hold and into some sort of acrobatic move, pretending she was teaching gymnastics to the boys. “Drew’s always been such a good lad and it meant plenty to Tommy that Drew stay here with you kids,” said Louisa. She was managing quite well with her huge sandwich, taking layers of paperthin sliced roast beef and tomato out so she could fit it into her mouth. “It’s quite an honour, really, and a responsibility too, for all of us, even though Drew’s been like family for years. We won’t feel the change so much, but for Drew, with everyone gone… well, it’ll be hard for him. Plus, on top o’ everythin’ else, he has to change schools now.” “I can’t wait for Drew to start wrestlin’ tag-team with me,” said Toasty eagerly. With his short blonde hair and bright blue Bonham eyes, he looked like a California surfer, though his Chester accent

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gave him away. “We already think like brothers. We got plenty o’ moves that no one’s ever seen before, except for Claudine.” “Things will be right as rain eventually, but you have to keep up with your studies, all three of you,” Billy said. He was the only one who could comfortably fit the sandwich into his mouth. “Tommy liked the idea of his Drew wrestlin,’ but he wanted Drew to keep up his studies too. We’ll leave it up to Drew, but he’s been doing so well just knocking around in the ring, like you Toasty, that I see it being a natural progression for him. If he feels like making it his living, then we’ll work as a family to see it happen for him. And that goes the same for you too, Toasty.” “Can I call Drew, just to see how he is? He shouldn’t be on his own, should he?” Claudine asked. There was a sense of urgency in her tone. “Father Roberts is bringing him by this afternoon,” said Billy. “Some of the wrestlers helped me move a bed and a wardrobe downstairs for him while you two were at school. We should put some bedclothes on the mattress, though. Now, let’s make those sandwiches disappear,” he said to the children, who seemed to be doing more talking than eating. Billy was a patient man, but he had no tolerance for people who didn’t apply themselves to eating good food. “Drew can have one of these, eh Dad?” said Claudine, pointing to a couple of the remaining sandwich halves left on the big plate. “Yeah, luv, that’s a good idea,” said Billy, giving his daughter a pat on the head. “Put a few of those aside for Drew and Father Roberts. I can always make more.” “If you get the bedclothes ready, Claudine, I’ll make sure the toilet is all in order downstairs,” said Toasty. “Drew was so young when his mum, Tracy, died,” said Louisa, who hadn’t really been listening to the conversation. “I felt so bad for him and Tommy when she passed away. They were lost without her for a while. She could drive a car, garden, clean, sew, bake, and cook. She even made her own cheese and wine and everything that came from her kitchen was delicious. She was very capable and

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sweet, too. Tommy absolutely adored her.” She looked out the window into the yard where spring was in full bloom. “And Drew, well, he was always such a solid little boy. You know, I’ve never seen him cry except when his Tracy died. I remember him crying under the dining room table when she started to really fade. He was with one of the dogs, I think it was Betty. I told him we had cartoons on in the kitchen and asked if he wanted to join us. He came out—he was such a good little boy—with his eyes all swollen from crying. It was such a shame. I just couldn’t bear to think of either of you at that age, being without a mum. Not then, not now. It’s just too sad to think about.” Louisa stood up with a sad smile and started collecting plates. She looked lovingly at her children and then at Billy, who was feeding Betty the dog and, Sadie, the cat some remaining little scraps of the roast beef. “I don’t want Drew to ever cry like that again. We’ll do everything we can to help him recover from losing his Tracy and Tommy,” she said. Finished eating now, they wiped butter, mustard, mayonnaise, and bread crumbs off their faces and hands with the oily old kitchen dish towel. Claudine went straight upstairs to get bedclothes. They didn’t have a lot in the way of selection—the sheets were all flat, not fitted and were somewhat dingy-white in colour. Claudine pulled the brightest, crispest ones out for Drew’s bed. She found a wool blanket, light blue with a light blue satin ribbon on the margins, to keep him warm. It wasn’t particularly soft and it didn’t smell fresh, but it would serve its purpose. These past few years, her family couldn’t afford to buy things like fabric softener or pretty-smelling soaps or extra soft toilet tissue. Claudine would pick some fragrant wildflowers from the field and put them in Drew’s room instead. When Claudine finished preparing Drew’s room, she returned to the kitchen and made a pot of tea. She was stirring milk and a big spoonful of creamed honey into her cup when she saw Drew come from upstairs. She hadn’t a clue he had already arrived. Because he’d been with Father Roberts, he was dressed more formally than usual in grey dress pants, Doc Martin oxblood brogues with yellow

Diana Hart Smith

laces, and a short-sleeved, beige dress shirt with the two top buttons left undone. He was holding one of Toasty’s new wrestling magazines in his hand. Toasty was following close behind him, giving his mate playful, noisy chops with his cupped hand across the back. “Hey, Drew. I’m so sad about your dad. I’m so sad for you, for us all… do you want a cup of tea? Do you, Toasty? I’ve just made it,” Claudine offered. She reached out to Drew and patted his arm, pulling out one of the old aluminum chairs for him to sit on. “Hey, Claudine. Ta, ta. Tea would be lovely,” said Drew, taking the offered seat. He had full lips that always looked like he was brooding, even if he was in a happy state of mind, which today he was not. “Look what your Toasty give me. It’s the new magazine with all the poster pull-outs. I’ll tape them up on the bedroom walls downstairs.” Claudine put the worn-out silver tea strainer over the cup and poured the boys their tea. Everyone sat for a moment, gingerly sipping their tasty but scalding beverages and looking at the wrestling pictures in Drew’s new magazine. No one spoke about Tommy—they just commented on the wrestlers, from the gear they were wearing to how fit they looked in the pictures and how, one day, Toasty and Drew might be in a magazine like this. Claudine looked at Drew. He had long, thick eyelashes, the longest she had ever seen. His large, bright, hazel-green eyes turned down slightly on the outsides, adding to his brooding expression. He had high cheekbones and a strong square jaw which was nicely framed by his thick brown curls. Claudine tried to imagine that face in the wrestling magazine. It didn’t seem like that much of a stretch. Toasty’s and Drew’s dream was Claudine’s dream, too. She knew the boys were already very good wrestlers and like the rest of the family, she wanted to “show ‘em!” To her, “show ‘em” referred to the people who ridiculed her family’s hard-fought wrestling business. They teased her about it like it was some sort of misbegotten profession—heckling her, throwing food at her, and shoving her at school. “Your dad’s a fake!”

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“You hair is ugly!” “You eat disgusting food!” “Your family’s strange and dirty!” Even thinking of these comments made Claudine’s hands curl into fists. One day, she planned to show them all how wrong they were about her family’s extraordinary wrestling business. “I remember the day I first came here, with me dad,” said Drew out of the blue. “There were loads of wrestlers training in the barn, so it must’ve been a Saturday. Me dad was fixin’ the brickwork about the house. I saw your mansion with all its angles and peaks on the roof and iron gates with loads o’ thick holly and I couldn’t believe how high the vines climbed right up to the roof. I remember countin’ six brick chimneys, too! Me home never seemed small until after I saw this place.” “We’ll keep an eye on your cottage ‘til things are better, when you’re older, like. We can go there anytime, you know that, Drew. It’s only a drive away,” offered Toasty. “We catch the school bus right outside the gates at the end o’ the road,” added Claudine. “You’ve seen those gigantic sandwiches me dad makes for us. Sometimes he puts a banana in with them, but the banana always goes brown from bruising by the time we get to eat it. The other kids at school have their neat little white bread sandwiches with a thin brush o’ jelly inside, no butter either.” “The gigantic sandwiches sound a lot better,” commented Drew. “They are, and they’re better for you, too!” said Claudine. “The other kids have all got cavities, thin hair, runny noses and skin so thin you can see their veins through it. And they’re the ones teasin’ me and Toasty every day about how dead messy and weird we are! They say me dad’s a fake and we’re poor, like, and can’t afford proper clothes. Toasty doesn’t get it so much as I do, because he gives them a right good smack or puts them in a chokehold if lads even look at him the wrong way. It’s not proper for girls to fight, though, or so I’m told.” Claudine leaned in. “We fight a lot at school with nasty kids, but don’t tell me mum and dad,” she confided. “They don’t know any of

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this. They work so hard and they’re not fakes, so we’ve got to defend their honour. Me dad could snatch any o’ those kids’ dads, or any teacher, or anyone anywhere, and make them believe in wrestlin,’ if he got hold o’ them.” “Your mum and dad are great, whether those wankers at school admit it or not,” said Drew, nodding. “You dad’s a saint and this country loves him. He’s done so much good for so many people, not just wrestlers, or me, but for thousands o’ people. Just look at all the money he’s raised through his wrestlin’ charities and the work he’s done training people for years for free! Once Toasty and I get known around school as brothers, I think people will shut their gobs. I don’t care if it’s a teacher or a lad’s dad, if I hear anyone callin’ out this family in any way, I’ll bloody annihilate them!” Toasty grinned in agreement, but his grin faded when he looked at his sister. “Well, it’s harder for Claudine, because she’s got the girls to fight with,” he explained to Drew. “I can’t touch them, obviously me dad would kill me. Claudine has to listen to their shite, but she can’t do a thin’ about it because our mum would throw a fit if she ever heard about Claudine having a go with her mates at school. The girls can be nastier than the lads.” “I’ve had enough of it, all their remarks for years, so I just said ‘piss off’ to everyone,” said Claudine. “I guess that’s why I’ve got no friends at school. Toasty has plenty o’mates, and plenty o’ girls like him too, but I really can’t be bothered.” Toasty nodded, smirking as though picturing hordes of girls drooling over him. “And I’ll not likely ever be trustin’ them to be me friends either,” continued Claudine, ignoring Toasty. Drew was listening to her with a serious expression on his face and that was all the encouragement she needed to continue. “If they were visitin’ here right now, today like, then they’d be at school Monday talkin’ about the mess or they’d lie and say how they’d seen this wrestler readin’ his script with that wrestler for their big match on Friday night, when none o’ it’d have ever happened. And the teachers and their mates at school would believe ‘em over me!”

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She held her head down and looked at the floor, not sure if she should be telling Drew all of this. “I remember once this girl was saying she was up here and saw wrestlers collectin’ blood from a dead chicken,” she said quietly. “She said she saw him kill the chicken and save its blood. Then she said when the wrestler would get hit with a chair or get kicked dead hard durin’ a match, he’d take this chicken blood out o’ thin air, I guess, and smear it all over the place and make it look like he’s bleedin.’ She started it, by tellin’ lies, but I’s the one who got kicked out of class for arguin,’ not her. Typical, though!” As Drew and Toasty both reacted to this story with outrage, Claudine was happy Drew was coming to live at Bonham Farm and would be transferring to her school. She felt terrible for what had happened to Drew, but at least now she would have one more advocate to defend her beloved wrestling.

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2 YOU KNEED ME IN THE EAR “Toasty and I are great friends, but he still leaves me alone plenty,” said Claudine. Toasty was out at a friend’s house again and she and Drew were in the downstairs playing with Sadie, a big, friendly Siamese cat. “He’s got loads o’ friends and when he’s not with ‘em, all he thinks of is wrestlin.’ When Mum and Dad fight about money, Toasty goes in the ring and wrestles. When Mum and Dad are happy, Toasty takes ‘em out to the ring to watch him wrestle. I feel out o’ place sometimes since I’m not allowed to wrestle, even though I like it. I don’t know really when I’ll find me place.” Drew shrugged and scratched the Sadie’s soft belly. “Don’t worry, you’ll find it soon enough. I think your place is with your family, here at the farm.” “I don’t even fit into me own togs!” Claudine exclaimed, making Drew laugh. “I’ve grown like four inches in a week, it seems. I’m set to take swimmin’ lessons for school, I’ve got naught to wear for me costume. Even me feet are too big for me shoes now.” “So ask for some new ones!” said Drew. 21

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“We’ve not got the money to put into new togs, especially not a swim costume that I’m only wearing maybe ten times. I know it seems odd, since we live in this big ol’ fancy house and all, but Dad bought it all years ago before Toasty and I were even born, when the business was doin’ real well. For as long as I can remember, we haven’t had money to spare on stupid stuff like swim costumes.” “Maybe,” said Drew. “But I think you should say summat. Maybe they don’t know how much you need new clothes. Do they even know you need a swim costume?” “I don’t want to have it become a big family outing with everyone comin’ with me if I absolutely have to buy the piggin’ costume, which seems like a waste of money anyway,” grumbled Claudine. “We need money for more important things. The whole thing is drivin’ me barmy! I’ll figure summat out. I just wish the swimmin’ was already over with. I don’t like swimmin’, I guess because I don’t know how to swim to save me life, seriously, and then bein’ forced to learn in front o’ a load o’ people who will just tease me sounds about as fun as havin’ a hangnail!” These required school swim lessons had been eating away at her for days, but she could not find the pluck to talk to her parents about getting a costume. She felt that no one except herself saw the changes in her body and she wanted to keep it that way. The changes were incredibly embarrassing for her and she didn’t understand that her hormones were affecting her mood as well as her body. The last thing she wanted was to have the mother-daughter “talk” about menstruating, sex, and becoming a woman, as she heard girls at school gossip about. She had no one her own age to talk to about this. Toasty was out of the question,—he already teased her about her skin breaking out and how she suddenly had hairy legs and underarms. It was such an awkward phase and she just wanted it to go away. Drew smiled. “You’re funny, Claudine. But you know, I bet I could teach you how to swim. Me dad had me take Olympic-style diving lessons, so I learned to jump from the Olympic height diving board. When one of us gets our driver’s permit, we’ll go to the baths and I’ll teach you to swim when it’s not all crowded.”

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“That’d be great,” said Claudine. “Also, uh, I was just thinking, well… don’t feel like you have to say yes, but…” Claudine wasn’t sure how to ask this awkward question. “C’mon, what is it?” Drew said, quite keen to know what was on Claudine’s mind. “Well, you see, ah… right, I’ll just spit it out. Maybe at school, we can eat our sandwiches together. Toasty’s seldom eaten with me in like, two years. I just thought maybe it was summat you wouldn’t mind doin.’” She threw a thick strand of cotton wool in the air and watched as Sadie attacked it. Drew’s face broke out into a beautiful smile and Claudine suddenly felt a little lightheaded. “You’re all right, Claudine!” he said. “O’ course we’ll eat your dad’s sandwiches together and we can manage it without Toasty. He’s always with different birds anyway and I don’t much like eatin’ with his female fan club.” Suddenly, the two teens heard angry voices. A door upstairs slammed shut with a bang. “Billy, why do you have that incompetent Ralph fixin’ the lorry when he’s got bad eyesight and can’t keep his hands from shakin’?” Louisa was yelling. “The lorries break down so much that half the time the wrestlers don’t even get to the shows on time and we have to cancel! And when the lorries do work, nobody shows up because lazy drunken Larry didn’t put up the posters weeks in advance like he was paid to do! Toasty’s done a better job with the shows he’s helped with and that with him being in school full time. Fire that goodfor-nothin’ straight away and hire someone else. Or put Toasty in charge on weekends! You promised me you would let both Ralph and Larry go but still, a year later, they’re here gettin’ paid! Why can’t you listen to me, Billy? They are usin’ you! Takin’ absolute advantage of you!” “What’s she goin’ on about?” said Drew quietly. “Dad has this mechanic and road manager who keep messin’ things up, but he won’t sack ‘em,” whispered Claudine. “He says they get the blame for everythin’ that goes wrong, like bad weather or a flat tire, so he gives ‘em the benefit of the doubt. He feels sorry

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for ‘em. Mum must’ve just found out that Dad did another show that was a complete mess.” Claudine scooped up Sadie and held her in her arms. “They fight so much,” she whispered, her eyes wide with fear. “I shouldn’t have been rootin’ around in me mum’s private things, but I was and I found some of her personal notes where she’s sayin’ she wants to kill herself because she’s so unhappy. If I ever mentioned it to anyone, I’d be done for touchin’ her things. I have nightmares about it, and I wake up thinkin’ me family is gone.” “Your mum seems happy to me, except for that, upstairs, but everyone argues,” said Drew, reaching over to pet Sadie’s calico head. “Me mum and dad did too. And I have bad dreams too, but I try not to read into ‘em much. Maybe you shouldn’t, either.” “We should retire now, this second, before we lose everythin’!” Louisa was now screaming. “Can’t you see it’s killin’ me? You think we can go on like this forever, but we can’t! If we keep spendin’ the way we do on this God-forsaken wrestlin,’ when we’ve got nothin’ comin’ in each week, we will end up old and broke! I don’t want us to be one o’ those hunched-over old couples hobblin’ across the street in the dead cold trying to make it to the bingo hall because that’s all we’ve got left! We won’t even have this house!” “We started this from the ground up and we have an obligation to the up-comers to give ‘em a place where they can learn properly,” said Billy loudly. “Like Toasty and Drew! Where will they go and the other ones like ‘em, if we shut down? We didn’t do all this so we could sell it at the end o’ the day for a bit o’ profit and say, so long, good luck!” “We have worked hard for years! It’s time to stop now, Billy! I’m tired of it all!” “When people retire, they lose their will to live! What would we do with ourselves, Louisa? You know how good it can be when we’re doing well. It’s the greatest feelin’ in the world! If we sell it, it’s done, and we can’t get it back again. Can’t you see? Runnin’ this promotion the way we both have done, with integrity, has allowed us to have meant summat to so many people, not just in this country, but all over the world. That’s a privilege.” 24

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“We’ve been at it nearly thirty years. That’s long enough. I don’t want to do this anymore! You promised me we’d go to America, to New York City, to Australia, to Greece, you promised me I could go back to me paintings. I’m trapped here. I can’t even drive a car! I’ve done nothin’ but run the office for over thirty years and it’s been over twenty years since we’ve had a proper holiday! Why can’t you see how important that is, Billy?” “Because there’s no one I trust to look after things for us right now if we do go away and I don’t want to retire!” yelled Billy, his voice echoing down the stairs. “This a place where lads can really learn to learn about wrestlin’. Who would defend this business if not us? Who is there to pass the torch? We matter, in the proper ways, Louisa. You know that we do. What we have been doing all these years matters more than takin’ a vacation. I can’t trust it with just anyone, can’t you see that? Give me more time and when things are in place, when the lads are older, we will do everythin’ you want, Louisa. Right now is not the time.” “We’ve made all the money we are ever going to make in wrestlin’, Billy,” sobbed Louisa. “People don’t care about it over here anymore! You’re floggin’ a dead horse! Please, let’s finish up and sell the business to someone who wants the aggravation. Maybe someone else, someone with money and energy, can turn things around.” “Please, Louisa, give it a few more months,” said Billy, pleading now. “We’ve had some good shows, packed out house down in Dover and Croydon was good, too. We’ve got the holiday camps comin’ up in a few months and soon Toasty will be on the shows full time. Maybe Drew, too. They’ll keep an eye on things and I can spend more time here. If we ever were to sell it, we should make it as valuable as we can to get the best price for it.” Downstairs, Drew had a serious look on his face as he listened hard to this conversation. “If your dad ever sold, where would Toasty and I go?” he whispered to Claudine. “I guess we’d have to wrestle abroad, or work for someone else here. Oh, that’d be strange. I hope that doesn’t happen… oh, I shouldn’t say that. That probably sounds selfish of me, like I want your dad to keep it going just so I

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can have a place to go where I have me foot in the door. I’m sorry.” He looked down at the floor and looked at his worn-out brogues, his curly hair falling forward to hide his face. “No, no, I know what you’re sayin’,” said Claudine, trying not to listen to the yelling still going on upstairs. “You’re all right, Drew. He wants both you and Toasty to wrestle when you’ve finished school, if that’s what you want. He said he sees potential in you. And when the time comes, I do believe me dad wants Toasty to take over, even though Toasty’s a bit over the top.” “Ya, he’s a bit of a rebel.” “I think me dad was too,” said Claudine quietly. “He had to have been to get as far as he did, winning the gold medal in the Olympics, starting the IWF. He doesn’t like to take orders from someone else. He’s not one to conform—same with me mum. Neither are we, I think. But me dad and Toasty have different personalities. Toasty’s driven to prove himself, like me dad. But Toasty’s more in your face, like, ‘look at me, I’m here, better than anyone of you, so kiss me feet,’ kind o’ attitude. Me dad’s more of a pacifist, except when he’s in the ring.” Just then, the phone rang and the yelling stopped. Louisa answered it. “You again! I just heard that you ruined another show! You’re fired! You are fired! You’re fired!” she shrieked. There was a loud clatter and then Drew and Claudine watched the telephone fly down the basement steps and shatter against the wall. “What is wrong with you?” yelled Billy. “Get away from me! I’m done! I can’t do this anymore!” Louisa sobbed. The kids heard her run upstairs. Billy’s footsteps followed by a door slamming. “Louisa, open the door right now!” they heard Billy yell. A door rattled, but it was clear that Louisa had locked Billy out of the bedroom. Claudine and Drew waited until they heard Billy walk heavily back downstairs and out the front door before they went cautiously up the two flights of stairs to the master bedroom. “Mum? It’s me and Drew,” said Claudine. She could hear her mother still sobbing in the room.

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“Mrs Bonham, you know Claudine and I can always help you with the office work,” said Drew tentatively. “And Toasty’s been saying that he’d love to help manage the road shows,” added Claudine. “He’s at a friend’s house right now, but I’d bet if you talked to him he’d be willin’ to take over some of the road agent’s responsibilities.” There was a click as Louisa unlocked the door. She smiled apologetically, her eyes red and puffy from crying. “I’m so sorry you had to hear all that,” she said, putting her arms around them both and kissing their cheeks. “I just get so frustrated sometimes.” “Do you want to come down and have a cup o’ tea with me and Drew?” Claudine asked. “I don’t feel like a cup o’ tea right now, luv,” said Louisa. “I just want to be alone. You and Drew go have one. I, ah, just want to be by meself right now.” “Please, Mum, just come down for a few minutes. I don’t think it’s good for you to be up here, all upset and on your own. C’mon, please, Mum?” Claudine asked again. Louisa sighed and reluctantly came out of her room. They all went down to the back kitchen. As soon as they got down, though, they saw Toasty running up the path. “Drew, come out to the barn,” he called. “Dad wants to go over some moves with us!” The boys often had catch-as-catch-can wrestlin’ lessons for hours at a time with Billy. He made them go over the exponential variations of how any sequence of chain wrestlin’ could go. Not only was it excellent training, it was a great way for them all to blow off steam. Drew looked at Louisa. He obviously wanted to go, but he didn’t want to be insensitive. “Go right ahead, luv,” she said, patting Drew on the arm. He grinned and ran out the door to Toasty, leaving Claudine and Louisa to their tea. In the barn, Billy already had Toasty in the ring.

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“Get in here, Drew,” called Billy. “That move I just showed you, well, it can be very different if you did it with a lad bigger than you, or with a keyney,” he said to Toasty. “But strength isn’t what matters here. It’s technique and what’s in your heart.” He pointed to his big chest. “You should be able to get most lads in this, but never underestimate your opponent. There’s always someone better than you that could walk around the corner and take you. But on another day, you could be better than that bloke. It’s what’s in your head at that moment and always what’s in your heart. Now, Toasty c’mere and show Drew what I just showed you.” Billy taught his “shoot style” to all of those who trained under him. He believed that schooling them in submission technique would make their professional wrestling ability sharper. Even when Toasty, Drew, or any of those he mentored felt they had perfected something, Billy would make them do it again and again, often changing the variables. “You can’t count on always fightin’ the same person every time, so get back in there and do it again,” he said as Toasty and Drew took up their stances. “You’re sweatin’ more or he’s dead rigid or you’re in a waistcoat or he’s in bare feet… you see what I’m sayin’? It always changes, so go on, get in there and do it again.” The two teens went at it again and again under Billy’s watchful eye. Billy’s practices were grueling and long. The young lads were eager, but sometimes they got tired and prone to injuring themselves or each other. Billy still made them keep going. He knew that in combat sports, no one would give them a chance to catch their breath. “Oh, bloody hell, Drew! You kneed me in the ear!” Toasty barked at Drew after they had been rolling around on the grubby mat. This was not the first time Toasty’s ear had received a blunt blow, but it throbbed immensely. “Sorry, Toasty. I didn’t mean to,” said Drew. His ears had been rolled on, punched, elbowed, and tied up in the ropes as much as Toasty’s had, but they were unusually pliable and seemed determined to remain supple and buttery soft. “Let me take a look,” said Billy. “You’ll be all right. But see what I mean about how the variables can change?” He looked at the boy’s 28

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swollen ear. “You’re fussin’ now, like a big jaguar with a bad tooth. We best get that drained—then you’ll be all right. Drew, go send for Claudine and have her meet us downstairs. But don’t let me wife know.” This was the second time Claudine had drained Toasty’s ear. Claudine was the resident cauliflower ear drainer for not only Toasty, but for all the wrestlers when they were at the farm. Ever prepared, she had a little kit with clean syringes, alcohol, and bandages and was very conscientious about her role as “nurse.” The whole draining process fascinated her. Drew found Claudine in the library with her schoolbooks, working on her studies. “Hi, Drew,” she said, still staring down at a book. “Mum’s gone to back up to her room. She was goin’ to bed early. I don’t know if she’s feelin’ better or not, but we had a nice chat over a cup o’ tea. Practice over?” “Nah, your dad sent me,” said Drew. “We need you downstairs to drain Toasty’s ear again. But your dad doesn’t want your mum to know.” “Aye, of course,” Claudine said, snapping her book shut and standing up. “I’ve me kit downstairs. Are they there already?” “Yah,” said Drew as they headed downstairs. “I guess it was me knee that did it this time. I felt tight about it, but it just happened. I hope Toasty’s not mad.” “Toasty’ll be gettin’ all sorts of attention with that ear from birds at school,” Claudine pointed out. “He loves it, as painful as it is. But I’ll be careful with it.” Downstairs, Claudine washed her hands and opened up her kit. She steadied Toasty’s head as she poked his left ear with a needle. “Sorry, Toasty. It might hurt for an instant,” she said. “Just keep still. I’m drawin’ it out now. With Billy supervising, the syringe soon was full of warm, watery blood from Toasty’s now deflated ear. “You do that well, Claudine,” said Billy. “You’ve got steady hands. Back in my day, we used a sewin’ needle to use and sometimes only whiskey and a lit candle to sterilize the needle. The needle could be dull as hell, too. But once it was drained, the throbbin’ went away, ‘til 29

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the next time.” His own ears were still flat to his head, but they were deformed and hard as rocks. Toasty looked at his ear in the mirror attached to the toilet medicine cabinet. He seemed to not mind so much now. “Feels fine,” he said casually. “Thanks, Claude.” Drew looked at Claudine with relief. She smiled at him, trying not to blush. “Listen, son,” Billy said. “Your mum and I had a talk earlier and we think it’d be a good idea for you to get more involved in the business. I know you’ve always hoped to take it over, so it’s perhaps it’s about time you start learnin’ how to run the IWF office. Your mum’s feelin’ a bit overwhelmed with her side of it at the moment, and we’re both dead impressed with what you’ve done for us so far.” “That sounds great!” said Toasty, wheeling around, ear forgotten. “I’ve got some great ideas already.” Drew and Claudine just looked at each other, thinking that calling the explosive argument a “talk” and that Louisa was “a bit overwhelmed” was a serious understatement. “So, first off, I think we should fire the road agent and mechanic,” said Toasty, leaning against the brick wall. “Mum hates them, and she’s right, they’re just costin’ us a bloody fortune.” “Now you wait just a minute,” said Billy as the pair of them went upstairs. “Larry and Ralph have been workin’ for me for a long time…” “Toasty’s right, you know,” said Drew quietly to Claudine. “I know, me Dad’s soft side costs him money sometimes,” said Claudine. “Maybe having Toasty involved will help. I’ve never really wanted to do it; Toasty’s got a head for business and doesn’t lead with his heart like Dad does.”

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3 HAVE I MADE MYSELF PIGGIN’ CLEAR? It was about nine o’clock in the evening when Claudine realized she couldn’t find Sadie. She slipped out of the house to look for her. Sometimes, when all of the wrestlers went home, the cats liked to sneak into the barn, she knew. The big old barn had tremendous character, just as the Bonham House did. It was raw and authentic, built over a century before to house horses and carriages. When Billy and Louisa bought the farm, the old barn was a garage for horses, then motorcars, but Billy changed it into a wrestling training facility. Tommy had helped extend the barn and make it bigger, opening up the hayloft so the ring could accommodate even the highest-flying wrestling moves. There was a permanent smell of human sweat, horses, farm feed, car oil, and petrol in the barn and Claudine truly loved it. She checked in the corner, behind a big old wooden barrel once used for making homemade beer. It was the strongest beer perhaps in the whole county and it worked well with the tough, salty old boys who once trained

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with Billy. But Sadie apparently wasn’t interested—the space behind the barrel was empty. Claudine was about to check in another corner when she saw a pair of glowing green eyes staring at her from under the ring. “Sadie, is that you?” she called. “Here, sweetheart.” The eyes got bigger and bigger and in a moment Sadie emerged from under the ring. She was holding something in her mouth, which she brought over and dropped obligingly at Claudine’s feet. She often did this with dirty socks and worn knickers; she even tried to drag about the elbow pads Toasty wore. Claudine thought it must have been something about the smell of sweat. “What’s this?” said Claudine, lifting it up. It was a very sheer light blue bra, so sheer she could see her fingers through the fabric. It had a silver front clasp and seemed to be in perfect condition. Claudine thought it was beautiful. She loved that it was light blue, not white or natural in colour. It was so much sexier than the white granny knickers she had somehow inherited from her mum and it was certainly better than Toasty’s stretched-out flesh-coloured knee bandages, which Claudine had taken to tying around her young ample breasts to hide her growing need for a bra. Looking carefully around to make sure no one was watching, she stuffed the bra under her jumper. She felt like she was capturing something forbidden. “Now why was that in here?” she asked. Sadie, tail straight in the air, waddled ahead, her fat pouch swinging from side to side as she led the way back to the house. Claudine knew that girls sometimes came to the barn to give their wrestling boyfriends or husbands a lift home, but she never really paid a lot of attention to them. “Now stay in for the night, Sadie. You’re a house cat, not a barn cat, you spoiled thing,” Claudine said affectionately. Sadie sauntered up the stairs and disappeared. Claudine followed up the stairs too, quickly retreating into her big shabby-chic bedroom and making sure the heavy oak door was securely shut behind her. Then she quickly took off her baggy shirt and unwrapped the bandage. The bra looked even better in the bright light of her white bedroom, and when she put it on, she was surprised how sexy she suddenly felt.

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“If only Sadie could bring me a swimmin’ costume, too,” she muttered as she examined her reflection. Swim lessons were supposed to start the next week at school and Claudine had not yet invented a way to make a swim costume appear out of thin air. Buying a swimming costume, as Claudine envisioned it, would include her whole family going out with her to pick it out while Toasty made silly remarks, perhaps about her having acne or not yet shaving her legs. He always found ways to get under her skin. The days went by alarmingly fast and Claudine still had not figured out how she could get out of the swim lessons. The whole week prior, the words, “I can’t swim, I don’t have a costume, I’m going to drown,” rapidly spun around in her head like never-ending tidal waves. She hated to think of the other kids watching her struggle to tread water and she just knew she would be the only one who didn’t know how to swim. Splashing about the Blackpool seaside was as close as she had ever gotten to swimming and she never went past knee-deep water. As for the Public Baths, she had never been there in her life, but she imagined with certainty she would have to use a shallow baby pool. In the end, Claudine procrastinated until it was too late for anyone to do anything. Out of desperation, late the Sunday night before swim lessons started, Claudine went through the clean clothes in the washing room and found Toasty’s black wrestling trunks. She discretely put them and her schoolbooks into her canvas poke with a light blue Tshirt. She wore this same outfit often at home when she was practicing her gymnastics, so it would work for swimming too, she assured herself. The next day, the students arrived by bus at the local Public Baths. Girls were herded off to the female showers and the boys off to theirs. In the cold, echoing changing room, Claudine faced a corner and took her school uniform as quickly as possible, then pulled on her improvised swimming costume, leaving her knickers and bra on underneath. There were big, tall mirrors all about, something she didn’t have at home except for the full-length mirror in her parents’ bedroom. Claudine resisted the urge to look at her reflection and headed for

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the door instead. She dreaded this kind of close exposure with people she didn’t care for. She just wanted to get away and get the whole swimming sentence over with. “You can’t wear that in the baths!” said an obnoxious, chubby girl named Heidi as Claudine was leaving the locker room. “It says right on the door that proper swimwear must be worn in the pool! A T-shirt and shorts is not a proper swim costume, y’ daft cow!” She grinned imperiously at Claudine, revealing teeth as yellow as bile. “And look, they’re not even shorts, they’re boys swim trunks!” shrieked her friend Kathy, pointing at Toasty’s wrestlin’ shorts. “She must think she’s a lad, with her boy’s shorts and disgustin’ hairy legs! Maybe she wants to be one of them fake wrestlers like her dad!” “Shut your gobs!” retorted Claudine. “I can smell your foul breath from over here! You’ll both have false teeth by time your twenty and ya both could eat an apple through a tennis racket! At least me mum and dad taught me how to brush me teeth!” Claudine forced a wideopen grin and stuck her tongue out at them both. She and her whole family had the smiles of film stars, with healthy, straight teeth as white as coconut meat and nice, clean pink tongues. Heidi and Kathy stood there like billy goats, staring back at Claudine in surprise. Claudine turned and walked out onto the swimming deck, trying not to give them a second thought. A few minutes went by while the students were assigned to groups according to their swim experience. Claudine, as she gloomily predicted, was told to stand over by the infants’ pool and wait for her life jacket. She had to walk past the deep pool as she headed towards the infants’ wading pool. She stared into the water at a marker that said the pool was eight feet deep. Would she ever be able to swim in there? Suddenly, Claudine felt someone shove her—hard. She felt herself falling and, flailing her thin arms frantically, right into the eight feet deep water. Chilly water filled her nostrils and mouth, and her eyes stung from the cold, chlorinated water. Terrified, Claudine gasped for air, fighting furiously to keep from sinking. Her long, wet hair was

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all over her face like a hairy mask, blinding her. She felt sure she was going to drown. Suddenly, a bright white rescue pole appeared. She desperately reached out for it and clutched it in her shaking hands. She felt her body being hoisted out of the water. Now she was standing on the deck, rather embarrassed with her wet hair still all over her face, coughing up mouthfuls of water. She heard boys and girls laughing and someone was urgently blowing a whistle. The whistle sounds grew louder and shriller and suddenly someone was grabbing her harshly by her arm, grumbling “Stupid girl” in her ear. She recognized the voice as belonging to Headmaster Powell. Anxiously, she looked up from underneath her mess of wet hair and noticed he was clutching a clipboard and looking very angry and red in the face. Some of the laughing sounds grew angry. Claudine heard boys shouting and then the sounds of a fight. Wiping her hair from her eyes, she looked over in the distance and saw Drew fighting with a lad over by the diving pool. Headmaster Powell continued to blow his whistle, still firmly clutching Claudine’s wet arm. “Drew! That’s enough!” he hollered. “Stop that fighting or get out! And someone get this girl a piggin’ towel!” “As for you, go put on a proper costume!” he hissed at Claudine. “This is a public swimmin’ baths, not the place for X-rated costumes or whatever that is you are piggin’ wearin’. See what you’ve started? I won’t tolerate indiscretions here! It’s piggin’ ridiculous! Have I made myself piggin’ clear? Go! Get out of the piggin’ public eye and get a proper piggin’ costume for swimmin’ or consider these swim lessons done!” Claudine started to cry, adding salty tears to the water streaming down her face. “I’ve got no other costume,” she told the headmaster. “I didn’t know wearin’ this was going to cause so many problems. I don’t know what’s wrong with it.” “You’re bloody daft then,” huffed the headmaster. “Get out! Get dressed! Wait out front until the piggin’ buses are ready for us! Go on! Piggin’ fool playin’ all innocent! I’ve no time for it!” He waved

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the clipboard in the air as if there was an annoying fly zooming about his head. With tears streaming down her puzzled face and pool water that smelled of bleach streaming down her body, Claudine looked straight ahead and walked tall down the full length of the lap pool, trying to preserve what was left of her dignity. Around her, her classmates snickered and pointed. Claudine felt like she was some kind of freak on display and was relieved when she finally got into the cold but quiet girls’ change room. Aside from the big mirrors reflecting her image at several angles, the cold, barren room was empty. Claudine was all alone. Claudine shivered and couldn’t help but notice her reflection in the full-length mirror. It was as if she was looking at herself through binoculars. She stared at her changing body from top to bottom. She was not a little girl anymore and now realized what all the commotion was about. The water-soaked light blue T-shirt and sheer bra were completely see-through now. Every freckle and curve of her upper body, even the pink colour of her skin, showed through the wet cotton material. She may as well have been topless. Claudine stood paralyzed in front of the mirror. Her teeth chattered as she stood, shuddering with embarrassment and cold, until she heard someone enter the locker room. Instantly, she crouched over to hide herself and started to shuffle toward the toilet stall. “Here, I’ve brought you a towel,” said a voice. Claudine turned, clutching her arms to her chest, and saw a girl she didn’t know well holding a clean white towel out. She was tall and blonde, with large almond-shaped blue eyes and freckles. “Take no notice of that whole thing, luv. You didn’t know. Kathy’s at fault for shovin’ you in the pool to start with.” Claudine gratefully accepted the towel and began to protectively wrap it around herself. She looked at the kind girl. “For the headmaster to have seen me body like this,” Claudine blurted, “he and I should at least be married, and I positively never ever want to be married to that dry old fossil! It’s so humiliatin’!”

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The girl laughed. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t let you marry him. I’m Claire, by the way. Can I get you anythin’ or are you all right now?” “I’m fine, thanks. And me name’s Claudine. Say, how come you’re not out there with the rest o’ ‘em? And you’re not wearin’ a swim costume…” “I’ve won all me badges for swimmin’ already,” Claire explained. “I actually work as a junior lifeguard here on weekends, so I don’t have to take this class,. Is it all right if I pass the time with you? I don’t get on with most o’ ‘em, to tell you the truth.” “Sure,” said Claudine, turning her back to her new acquaintance so she could change. When she was done, Claire showed her how to dry her hair with hand dryer fastened to the wall. It helped dry her hair somewhat, but it also made it tremendously plugged and unmanageable. “I think I best pack this dryin’ me hair in,” said Claudine when the dryer shut itself off. “I look like a cave woman now.” Her honey blonde hair slightly resembled a rat’s nest now. Claire giggled goodnaturedly as they headed out to wait for the buses. It was a warm afternoon and the sun shone down on the girls as they sat on the brick tiled steps and got to know each other. With great enthusiasm, Claire began to tell Claudine why Drew has been fighting at the pool. Drew, she said, put Timothy Mellon in a headlock and wouldn’t let go until the lad said he was sorry. “When Timothy Mellon said summat perverted about your bosom, that’s what really set Drew off,” explained Claire. “My what?” Claudine asked. “Your bosom—you know, your bust,” clarified Claire and she motioned to her own chest to demonstrate what she meant. “Oh,” said Claudine, self-consciously crossing her arms over her chest and holding her hands underneath her chin. “I could tell that Drew had a dead tight hold on Timothy’s head,” said Claire. “He wrenched on it good before he finally let go and I could see Timothy’s face turnin’ bright purple! Headmaster Powell told Drew the Baths wasn’t a circus and there’d be no more fightin’ or showin’ off from either you or Drew! I thought that was unfair and

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mean to say you were showin’ off, “‘cuz you didn’t even know what was goin’ on. That tight old headmaster wasn’t yellin’ at anyone except you and Drew. He never said boo to Kathy Crimble, who pushed you in the water in the first place. He really should’ve punished Kathy, not you.” “Yah, she and her mate Heidi were making fun of me in the changin’ room before I got out to the pool. That’s when it got started,” Claudine told Claire. “Oh, yah, well doesn’t surprise me. They’re thick as thieves, those two. And even the lads gawkin’ at you got off without a tick. But the Headmaster told Drew he has to write out an essay on public safety at the Public Baths! So, Drew actually told him to piss off! He said it dead brave, like this, ‘Pissssoffff,’” said Claire with an impish grin. “Then Drew walked off the deck into the lad’s change room and that’s when I decided to come see how you’re doin’.” Claudine felt something inside her come to life a bit when Claire told her about Drew. She had experienced this feeling before when she thought about Drew, but she couldn’t really define it. These enchanting feelings were much more fun than the regular feelings she had. When Toasty, Claudine, and Drew got home from school, they gathered together in the dining room. Toasty was great with strategy, so they immediately confided in him and asked him how to handle this affront. They were serious and meant business; —they were going to devise a plan of retaliation. “I wanted to scalp that wanker Timothy for bein’ a rude pervert, but old Powell called me out ‘fore I could thump him,” said Drew to Toasty through bared teeth. “He said Claudine was sexy, and I didn’t appreciate him being so tight. I made him shut his gob, in the form of a nice, tight wrenchin’ head-lock.” “Kids,” said Billy, poking his head out of the kitchen, “Come in here. I need to talk to you.” The teens all looked at each other before getting up and shuffling into the kitchen. They hadn’t the slightest clue that anyone was in the house.

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“What’s going on?” said Louisa, coming down the stairs. And she was not the last arrival. All of a sudden there seemed to be an endless cast of people, from employees to wrestlers, coming in and out of the back kitchen. Mrs. Bonham was not usually downstairs during the day since her office was upstairs. Now that she was here, all of the employees and wrestlers wanted to greet her. They all came over and respectfully shook Mr. Bonham’s hand before giving a polite little bow to Mrs Bonham, who gave them each a kind greeting and a smile. While they were there they washed their hands, which were dark and dirty from gardening, changing car oil or training, and poured themselves strong cups of coffee which was always available to everyone at the Bonhams. Claudine was mortified when Drew and Toasty started explaining the Baths incident to her parents while all of these men were coming in and out of the kitchen. She felt totally exposed to the likes of her father’s welder, mechanic, and grounds keeper, as well as couple of wrestlers and a referee. The employees and wrestlers were taking the liberty of answering her family’s telephone and blatantly sitting on the kitchen chairs for a wee rest while this private family discussion was going on. She just wanted to tell them all to get out and let her and her family alone for ten minutes. “I wish you would have reminded me that you needed a costume!” exclaimed Louisa. “We could have all gone out to look before we went to market. I feel awful. Billy, should we talk to Headmaster Powell tomorrow?” “I’ll get Powell on the phone right now,” growled Billy. “I won’t stand for anyone botherin’ me children. Claudine, you’re a lovely lass and you’re sensitive. I don’t like hearin’ about people takin’ advantage of that by teasing you! And how are you supposed to learn if he’s ordered you out o’ the pool?” Claudine shook her head vehemently. “Please, no, I don’t want anyone makin’ more out o’ this,” she said. “The best thing to do would be to get me a costume and pretend none o’ this ever happened. I can pick one out on me own, though. I don’t need an audience for that, and I don’t need Dad calling Headmaster Powell…please.”

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Louisa got up and hugged her daughter. “If that’s what you want, luv, we’ll give you the money to buy your own costume and we won’t call anyone about this,” she said. “But please don’t keep things like this from us. It’s not fair to you and it makes us feel like we’re not close to you, when you hold things back from us.” Claudine agreed, relieved this was the end of it. After a few minutes, the kitchen cleared out and the sensitive topic of Claudine’s see-through shirt was changed. “Drew, can I ask you something?” said Toasty “Is your biological father is still alive? Has he ever written you or anythin’? What about your biological mum?” “Me biological mum died when I was bein’ born,” said Drew. “When I was growin’ up, me adoptive mum, who was Tracy, well, she was actually me auntie, and she never said much about me biological dad, not much good about him, that is. Any my dad, Tommy, was actually me uncle, because he and me biological dad were brothers. I don’t even know how me biological parents event met, or where, or anything. According to me adoptive mum, me biological dad took care of me for like five minutes and then he left, but me dad Tommy said the bloke actually stayed for a few days. Me mum guessed he stayed just long enough to make sure their adoption of me went off without a hitch. When that was all legally done, me aunt and uncle became me loving parents and me biological dad hit the bricks. He even changed his last name from Bellamy to Beverly, so we don’t even have the same last name.” “That’s terrible!” said Louisa. “Eh,” said Drew. “After me biological dad was gone and the woman who gave birth to me died, me dad and mum raised me as their own son, not as their nephew, over in Chester. They put a headstone out back where we live, in the heather fields for me mum. Her name was Sylvia. Me mum and dad’s headstones are out there with hers now.” “Do you have any idea what happened to your old man?” asked Toasty. “I guess he stayed in Germany, but me mum told me she never liked him and that the less I knew of him the better off I would be. I 40

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don’t know if he’s even alive anymore; I don’t have a clue what he even looks like. I’ve not even seen a picture of him.” “Who named you Drew?” Toasty asked. “Oh, I guess me birth mum had the name picked out. It’s not short for Andrew though, it’s just Drew. Your name Toasty, it’s short for Thomas Curtis, or is it Antony Curtis?” “Yah, it’s short for Thomas Curtis. Claudine liked callin’ me Toasty when we was only small and it just stuck.” “And Mum named me Claudine after a character in one o’ her favourite French books,” said Claudine, proud of the face her mum could read books in other languages. “I bet your mum was lovely. Do you know much about her, your mum, Sylvia, you said?” asked Louisa. “Yah, me Mum said she was really lovely and very young when she had me, and that I look like her, not at all like me dad. But I am not sure about things like how she and me dad met, or how their life was, like, if they were happy or what,” said Drew. “I like to think they were actually married, so I am legitimate, you know, but I’m not sure. Don’t think it could have been much of a marriage, to be honest.” “Well, Tommy and Tracy were the best parents anyone could ask for,” said Louisa, patting Drew’s arm. “Perhaps it all worked out for the best.” “I’ll never forget how they took care of me when they were alive,” said Drew, looking down at his hands. “I wouldn’t have had much of a life if they hadn’t adopted me to start with. Then me dad started bringing me up here to your farm when me mum took ill. After that, when me dad died, you took me in. At the end o’ the day though, I’m really grateful to everyone I know for how me life turned out.”

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Diana Hart Smith

4 I LOVE YOU AND I WANT TO KISS YOU Right from the start, Claudine and Claire spoke comfortably to each other as though they had been friends for years. They formed a strong bond right away. Claudine was captivated when Claire shared some splendid details of what happened at the Baths with her the next day at school. “Drew was starin’ at you when you came out o’ the change rooms and he was starin’ at you when they pulled you out o’ the water,” she confided in her new friend. “I saw because he was standin’ right next to me and the instructor was callin’ his name to put him in a group, but he wouldn’t answer. He didn’t seem to be payin’ attention to anythin’ except you when you walked out on the deck, you know, just before Kathy pushed you in the water. The instructor ended up askin’ me for his name so I gave him a nudge. I asked him why he wasn’t answerin’. And then he said to me in his dead deep voice, ‘I’m watchin’ someone.’ I looked where he was lookin’ and saw straight away he was lookin’ at you, standing all on your own. The

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other girls were all showin’ off and talkin’ loud and gigglin,’ like, makin’ right spectacles of themselves. But he didn’t pay any attention to ‘em.” “You know, Drew lives at me dad’s house and we’re good mates,” said Claudine, thrilled that Drew had been staring at her, and her alone. “He’s me brother Toasty’s best mate. You know me brother Toasty, right? He’s a bit younger than I am. You could come over to the farm one day and meet me family some time, if you ever want to.” Claudine was hopeful that her heart was right in telling her that this new acquaintance could be trusted. “Yah, of course,” Claire answered, hugging her schoolbooks to her chest. “I know your brother, he is friends with me little brother, Greg. I’ll come ‘round, ta.” “Great!” said Claudine. “And you know, if Drew ever says anythin’ about me to you, like at school or while you’re up at the farm, it’d be great if you could let me know.” That day, Claudine enlisted Claire’s help in getting Drew to notice her without tipping off any of the Bonhams. They came up with the idea Claudine would write a confidential thank-you note to Drew and Claire would privately give it to him on Claudine’s behalf when she came over for her first visit to the farm. They hoped Drew would appreciate and respond receptively in some endearing way. The lassies, innocent and naïve, had no idea what Claudine should even be wishing for from Drew. They simply hoped their plan would encourage Drew to like Claudine in even more ways than their friendship already knew. The plan was for Claudine to hide the thank-you note in her school textbook. Claire would get the book from Claudine while visiting at the farm. She would then give the textbook with the concealed note directly to Drew so it looked like schoolwork, just in case Toasty was getting curious. A schoolbook on its own was something Toasty wouldn’t be too interested in looking through. Claire would wait with Drew to see how he responded and then report back to Claudine. The two girls were chuffed to bits with their divine plan.

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On the day they were supposed to deliver the letter, Claire rode her bicycle to the farm after she had her tea. Meanwhile, Claudine was in the library of the farmhouse which was filled with hundreds of beautifully bound books from the classics to architecture to history. She was deliberating over what to include in her perfect “thank you” card. She began several times with, “Drew, I think I love you and I want to kiss you.” but she decided against that. Instead, she decided her emotions warranted a love poem rather than just a sudden declaration of her thoughts about him. Claudine began looking through old poetry books of her mum’s. She finally spied a hardcover book titled Romantic Love Letters and Poems. She leafed through it and saw plenty of wonderful writings. The love poems all seemed to apply to how she was feeling, but they seemed a tad strong in their implications, especially since this was supposed to be a simple thank-you note. Then she came across a lovely poem written by Katherine Mansfield to her love, John Middleton Murray. It read: I have loved you for three years with My heart and my mind, but it seems to me I have never loved you avec mon ami, as I do now. I love you with all our future Life - our life together which seems only Now to have taken root and to be alive And growing up in the sun. . . I have Never felt anything like it before. In fact, I did not comprehend the possibility of such a thing. Katherine Mansfield (1888 - 1923) And then Claudine wrote in her own words: I wouldn’t think twice about being there for you, to o, if you needed me. While she was debating for the umpteenth time whether this was too much for a thank-you letter, she heard footsteps in the hall. She 45

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quickly tucked the paper inside her textbook, hastily grabbed the first book she could reach off the bookshelf and pretended to read it just as Toasty walked in. This particular book happened to be on World Wars I and II and she opened it up to a chapter on Sir Winston Churchill. “Whacha doin,’ Claude?” asked Toasty. He was obviously bored. “I’m doing me homework,” answered Claudine. She was finding her brother extremely nosy and intrusive at the moment, although he really wasn’t doing anything to intentionally bother her. Claudine knew he would spoil everything if he had the chance, just for a laugh at her expense. He would never realize how important this was to her. “I loathe me history lessons, unless it’s about a good battle,” said Toasty. “I’m not much for history about famous piano players or artists or how the sewin’ machine was invented, but I can tuck into the details about a war any day.” Claudine jotted down a few things Sir Winston Churchill had written about the brave soldiers of England during that time, just to look like she was actually doing homework. “Want any help with Sir Winston Churchill? I wrote an essay on him last year,” offered Toasty. “No, I just need this last answer written out, then I’m done with me homework,” Claudine said, flipping to a back section. There was a passage there that Sir Winston Churchill wrote to his beloved Clementine. This was it! It was the perfect thing to write to Drew, even better for her purposes than the Katherine Mansfield poem. And although Toasty was hovering overhead, she could do this right under his nose. She began to write out the passage on a clean sheet of paper as it read exactly in the history book: To Clementine …my chief desire is to link myself to you week by week by bonds which shall ever become more intimate and profound. Beloved I kiss your memory - your sweetness and beauty have cast a glory upon my life. —Winston Churchill (1874 - 1965)

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Claudine followed it with her own words: Drew, thank you for standing up for me at the Baths. I shall never forget it. Yours truly, Claudine She folded the paper in half and put it in the middle of the book, slamming it closed. She put it on top of her other school books and anxiously waited for Claire to come over while Toasty prattled on about this, that, and the other, pulling random books off the library shelves and stacking them in heaps on the floor before sailing off to cause mischief elsewhere. The plan had been for the letter to be anonymous, but for some reason Claudine felt like signing it was the right thing to do. Claire finally pedaled her bicycle into the farmyard, bringing with her some freshly-baked black currant scones from her mum. She was bursting to read what Claudine had written to Drew. When Claudine told her it was a passage Sir Winston Churchill wrote to Clementine, Claire assured her that, if it involved the words of Sir Winston Churchill, it positively could not be taken the wrong way. They proceeded into the library, where Claudine showed Claire the ‘special’ textbook she needed to give to Drew right before Toasty stuck his curly blonde head through the door. “Claude,” said Toasty, “Dad just put two huge bowls of beef stew out for us for tea. We both have to come in and eat right away. Drew’s finished his already. I don’t know how he scoffed it down so piggin’ fast, and it was a massive bowl, too. I think Dad heated it with a blowtorch, it’s that hot! C’mon Claire, you as well should have a nice big bowl with us,” he said, rubbing his belly. “Mm-mm!” “Oh, ahm, sure, I would love to have some. Thank you, Toasty,” said Claire, not sure if she was hungry for a large bowl of anything, as she had just eaten at home. However, she was very thoughtful not to offend anyone here by not accepting their hospitality. “Claire, I best start eating, but could you see that Drew gets that textbook?” suggested Claudine, gazing meaningfully at her friend. “If he’s already finished his tea, he might want to do his homework now.” 47

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“Oh sure, I’ll go find him and then come back for tea,” Claire promised with a subtle wink. She retrieved the textbook and hurried out of the house before Toasty could stop her. Outside, she started wandering around looking for Drew. The compound was huge, natural, and inviting, complete with a few old classic cars, pieces of farm equipment, and a rugged old stone barn with a big wrestling ring inside. Claire found Drew over by the wrestling ring, practicing very strict upside-down push-ups against the outside of the barn’s stone wall. She waited until he was back on his feet before she approached him. “Hi ya Drew!” she said. “I wanted to give you this book, umm, well because you’ll find summat inside it that’s o’ great importance to Claudine and she hopes it’ll be o’ tremendous interest to you… hopefully.” She handed him the big textbook, carefully watching his reaction. Drew, puzzled, took the book and opened it. It flipped open to the notes immediately. He picked them up, one by one, and read them. He didn’t say anything at first. “Have you read these?” he asked Claire. “C’mere and take a look.” Claire didn’t know anything about a second note. She hadn’t seen either of them. “Oh, I think she wanted you to have the one from Sir Winston Churchill. That’s the only one she told me about,” she said, trying to sound casual. “I didn’t know ‘bout the other one, but it is beautiful— they are both lovely! You’ve gone dead quiet, Drew. Did she write anythin’ that surprised you?” Drew still didn’t say anything. “Are you embarrassed? I don’t know what’s worse, being mad or embarrassed,” Claire pressed, getting a little nervous. “You can’t be mad though, not at Claudine. So you’re not mad, right?” “Tell her I want to talk to her about this,” said Drew finally. “I’m not mad, but I need to talk to her. Tell her thank you for her letters and, umm… but… well… just tell her… I’ll see her later, maybe in the library, and I’ll give her this book back.” 48

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He put the notes back in the book, closed it, and started walking away from the house with it. Claire walked back, finally entering the big dining room where Toasty and Claudine were gingerly supping up their still-scalding hot lamb stew. “Your bowl’s there!” said Toasty, gesturing to a gargantuan bowl of steaming hot stew at his elbow. It looked like it could have been a mixing bowl for cakes it was so large. Claire burst out laughing when she saw it. Toasty started laughing, and then Claudine began laughing too. “I bet you can’t finish it,” said Toasty. “Just you watch,” said Claire. She tucked in and polished the big hot bowl off amazingly fast. “Ah, that hit the spot,” she said, patting her protruding belly and leaning back in her chair. “You know what would really finish off that meal great? A nice big cigarette.” “What?” said Claudine, hoping her friend was having a laugh. Claudine was almost paralyzed if a girl swore in front of her, let alone smoked a cigarette in front of her. Toasty had told her that gumchewing and cigarette smoking lead to prostitution and if Toasty said it was so then it must be true. “Yep, a cigarette and a big ol’ bottle o’ whiskey,” she said, sticking her belly out even farther and adapting a low, gravelly voice. She picked her spoon up off the table and stuck it in her mouth, pretending to have a smoke. “I always have ‘em after I finish off a humungous hot beef stew. Then I go on a bike ride and go to bed. I’ll do it all over again tomorrow.” Claudine and Toasty laughed, tremendously relieved. Claire was in a bit of a hurry to get home now, as the sun was starting to set and she wanted to be back home before dark. “So, did you get Drew that book?” asked Claudine offhandedly, since Toasty was still there. “Yah, and he said he’d return the book later and maybe meet you in the library,” said Claire with a smile. “I really have to go, though. Thanks for having me!” “Here, I’ll walk you out,” said Toasty to Claire.

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“Thanks for coming,” said Claudine as she watched Toasty escort her out. Through the window, she saw him walk Claire down the road to their big iron gate. Claire waved as she pedaled away. It was quite a bicycle ride home for her, with a scalded tongue and an uncomfortably full belly, but this memory would break the three of them into laughter for years to come. Claudine restlessly went upstairs and brushed her long honeycoloured hair in the little bathroom mirror above the sink. She looked at her reflection, with its wide blue eyes just like her father’s and pointy chin like her mum’s. She tried to look more confident as she stood straight, stomach in tight with her shoulders back. In the wide hallway, she practiced her walk and her turns, like she saw the models do in some of the television advertisements. It was a form of pacing which she did when she was anxious. She paced impatiently into her bedroom and sat stiffly on her bed, waiting for Drew. Finally, Claudine heard the front door open and close. She hastily leapt out of her room and down the long flight of stairs. To her disappointment, it was Toasty. “Didja see Claire down that huge bowl o’ stew?” he asked. “I thought I could hear it sloshin’ as she rode off.” “Yah, it was pretty funny,” laughed Claudine. “She’s a good girl, to be sure. That reminds me, she brought some scones over. I think I left them in the library.” “Ooh, I want a scone,” said Toasty. He followed Claudine into the library and took a few of them. “I’m goin’ put these in the kitchen for later,” he said, much to Claudine’s relief. “I need to go have a bath.” Claudine remained in the library, hoping Drew would be by before Toasty got out of the bathtub and before her dad told her that “she’d be wanting to get the lights out and get to sleep soon.” It had been a rather warm day and the evening was still close. Inside the big stone house it was balmy and the heavy velvet and mahogany furniture in the library seemed stuffy. Soon enough, she heard someone coming. She jumped up like she was jolted by lightning when Drew walked in. He had been training in his usual outfit of red workout pants, white trainers, and a sleeveless 50

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grey muscle shirt. His sweating made his tight shirt cling to his sculpted body—she could see the development of his chest and abdominals, which reminded her of an old-fashioned washboard. His dark brown hair, damp with sweat, was a little curlier than usual, and his extraordinary lashes framed his big, bright hazel eyes. He was carrying her schoolbook in his left hand. She couldn’t help but think how absolutely splendid he looked. “Hi, Claudine, here’s your book,” he said quietly, looking around. “Is anyone else here?” “No, Toasty’s havin’ a bath and me mum and dad are workin’ upstairs on the payroll for tomorrow, I think,” said Claudine. “Did Claire say anythin’ to you about what was inside the book?” Claudine was incredibly nervous, but she wanted to get things moving along before they were disturbed. “I got two notes from you. Well, one was signed, the one with the quote from Sir Winston Churchill. I wanted to tell you, errm, that you are very welcome.” “Oh, well, it was easy to thank you and I’ve wanted to do that since that day at the Baths, but it wasn’t so easy doin’ it in an appropriate way,” said Claudine. Her voice sounded higher than usual. “I didn’t know Sir Winston Churchill was so sweet on Clementine. I thought it was nice and well… um… I thought… well… I hoped you might like it, too. I’m not sure if it was so much of a thank you message or not, now that I think about it. I hope I didn’t forget to write thank you.” “Well, I got two notes, but Claire said you had written me only one. Is the other one for me too?” asked Drew. “Oh, of course it is for you too, but I forgot to not send it,” said Claudine quickly. “I wanted to send it to you as well, but I thought it was too much for a thank you note. I forgot to take it out of the textbook. But… um… I hope you weren’t caught off-guard. I just wanted to tell you thank you.” She was trying to remember exactly what each note said and was feeling rather clumsy suddenly. “Is there anything else, Claudine?” Drew asked. He stepped a little closer and Claudine’s heart skipped a beat.

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“No, I guess not. I feel a little awkward at the moment,” she stammered. “I’m not sure if I should’ve planned this a bit better. Doesn’t seem to be quite how I imagined it’d be… this conversation, that is. Is there anythin’ you want me to say?” “Well, I’ve a note for you actually,” said Drew. “It’s summat I wrote for you. It’s in German. I learned a bit o’ German ‘cuz, well, me dad tried to teach me how to speak it, I guess because of me biological dad went there, but I’m sure he speaks English… but never mind that.” Drew looked almost as nervous as Claudine felt. “I wrote this for you. I’ve a hard time sayin’ what I feel… well… here, for you, and… oh yes, I like both your notes.” He drew a little piece of folded up paper from his pocket as he said this. Claudine reached out and he put it into her hand. But instead of withdrawing his hand, he slowly wrapped his fingers around hers, with the note sandwiched in between their two sweaty palms. Gently he tugged her arm, pulling her in closer, and put his other hand on the back of her head. She looked for a moment into his eyes, a mix of green and gold, before she closed hers. At first their innocent lips barely touched. They tenderly pressed their mouths together and kissed one long, sweet kiss. It was even better than she had imagined any kiss, especially a first kiss, could ever be. Drew smelled wonderful, like perspiration and fresh flowers. She felt his hand gently gripping the back of her hair. Impulsively she lifted her free hand and ran her nervous fingers through his hair too. It was soft and thick, and she could feel the junction between his skull and neck as her fingers explored his scalp. His chiseled chest pressed into hers. Claudine leaned against the wall and Drew’s body followed. She couldn’t imagine anyone being more irresistible than he was. Then there was a noise from upstairs and they stopped. They could see the want in each other’s eyes and feel each other’s chests heaving slightly as they slowly pulled themselves apart. As they pulled away, Claudine thought it was the most beautiful moment she had ever experienced and it would go down in history as the best first kiss ever.

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“Here, luv. Let me just fix your hair,” Drew said to Claudine. He smoothed down her tousled locks. They smiled at each other and then Claudine broke into a huge grin. She was thrilled to pieces. She felt swept off her feet with this fantastic kiss, totally and absolutely. Drew smiled with his pouty lips and he tried to pull her back into him. They heard the telephone ring and abruptly pulled away from each other her. “I best be goin’ upstairs,” said Claudine. “I best be goin’ downstairs,” said Drew, “but don’t forget to read me note. Good night.” “Good night,” replied Claudine. Claudine started to go upstairs, fearing someone would come down and taint their lovely, perfect moment. Saying good night to Drew was suddenly very strange. Claudine floated into her bedroom and studied her precious note. It read, “Ich liebe dich, mein Schatz.” She did not know what it meant, but she memorized it, repeating over and over out loud. She then hurried into the office where mum and dad were working. “Mum, what does “Ich liebe dich, mein Schatz” mean? I just saw it in a book. Her mum laughed a bit at her flustered daughter. “It means I love you my darling, in German.” That was the greatest answer her mum had ever given Claudine. She gratefully kissed her mum and dad good night and settled into her bed, thanking God for her best day ever.

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5 YOU WOULDN’T FIT IN AT THE TENNIS CLUB Claudine and Drew kept their romance a secret throughout high school. Toasty and Claire knew they were sweet for each other, but when Louisa and Billy made accusations, the kids denied anything was going on between them. They insisted to their parents they were only friends. “We’re goin’ to have to tell them one o’ these days, you know that, Claudine?” Drew said one night during their last year of school. They were watching the telly in the family room—the only other occupants were a big spoiled Siamese cat sitting on Claudine’s lap and Betty, the family’s Rottweiler, who sat contently under Drew’s arm. “I don’t want any more o’ these daft meals your mum and Billy plan for you with sons o’ politicians or solicitors or whatever they are. They’re wasting their time! It’s not right for you to have to go out and pretend there’s a point to these silly dates and it’s not fair to me to be stuck here like the farm boy. I’m not goin’ to sit at home like a fuckin’ sap while your mum puts you up to these dates. It’s doin’ me head in!” 55

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“Drew, what if they won’t have it and you’re told to leave?” whispered Claudine with fear in her eyes. “I don’t want you to leave! I just go on these cockamamie dates to keep me mum from wonderin’ about us. She’s not very reasonable lately. I can’t say what’s the matter with her, but you know what I mean? If me goin’ out with Devon or whoever else pacifies her, I think I have to do it, right? It’s just a meal.” Drew scratched Betty’s back, with a pained look in his eyes, which looked olive green in the dim light of the television. “I know your dad likes me and I know your mum cares about me too, but for some reason, I’m not good enough for you. It’s dead wrong, ‘cuz I make you happy and I love you. I’m no millionaire’s son, but that doesn’t mean they’re better for you than I am.” “They aren’t!” agreed Claudine. “And as soon as you’re eighteen, we’ll both be adults and I promise you we’ll tell ‘em straight. We can do more as we please when we’re both eighteen.” Drew stood up and stretched, with Betty copying him and stretching her front legs on the carpet. “Can we go to the basement for a minute?” he asked. “I hate having to whisper.” He headed down, the staircase creaking under his heavy footsteps. A few minutes later, Claudine followed him, the cat and dog following close behind. Drew was waiting downstairs, leaning against the wall near a corner of the room. Claudine reached her hand out to him and he pulled her into his arms. “God dammit, Claudine, I want you so bad! I can’t do this much longer, but I will, I’ll do it as long as it takes. I fuckin’ love you, you know?” he said, pressing his lips into hers. He turned her around so her back was against the wall. They writhed into each other as he put his arms around her small waist and moved her hips back and forth into his. She kissed him fiercely, enjoying the feel of his hard body against hers as she dug her fingers into the groove running down the length of his back. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. Feeling brave, she firmly rubbed her hand back and forth against the zipper of his denims. Groaning, he grabbed her backside with his strong hands and lifted her off the ground, propping her up on his knee. Their tongues moved together in synchronicity, just like their bodies. 56

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“Drew-Drew! Are you down there?” shouted Toasty from upstairs. “God dammit!” cursed Drew, grateful for the warning but annoyed for the interruption. “Drew-Drew” was their secret code—it meant that one of the adults was coming. “I best go. I love you. See you later,” said Claudine. Frustrated, she headed upstairs. Once she was in the back kitchen, she knew straight away what the emergency was. She saw her mum over by the stove, melting cheese in a heavy cast iron pan. She saw that fresh tea was made too. She hoped her mum didn’t notice the blush in her face. “Hello luv. I was lookin’ for you. There’s hot tea just made and cheese too, if you’d like some.” “Ta,” said Claudine as she poured them each a cup of tea. “I wanted to ask if you’d be interested in goin’ out for a meal with Noah Epson,” her mum said, pronouncing Noah’s name as though he was a celebrity. “He’s the young tennis player, and his dad Lester owns Epson Breweries. Lester rang up your father and said Noah was interested in takin’ you out for a meal. But from what I’ve heard, you don’t take his calls. Is he that bad, luv?” Claudine didn’t say anything for a moment. “I understand if he’s a pathetic, sticky gibberin’ sod who can’t keep his hands to himself, but if he’s not, then would you please just have a meal with him?” “Well, I guess I could,” said Claudine. Louisa sighed and turned to look at her only daughter, her dark braid swinging behind her. “I know you’re a bit sweet on Drew, but I will not give it me blessin’,” she announced. “He’s a lovely lad, but his ambition in life is to wrestle, and that just is not good enough for you.” Claudine stared, surprised by the upfront and unwanted comment. “Well, Dad’s a wrestler and Toasty’s a wrestler,” she retorted. “How come that’s fine, but for me to want to share more of my time with Drew, well, it may as well be the end of the world?”

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“Your father is different,” said Louisa through pursed lips. “Most wrestlers are nothin’ like him. For one thin’, most aren’t faithful. Your dad is. He’s a self-made man and an Olympic gold medallist. I can’t say I’ve ever met anyone as determined as he is, and that’s why he’s made so much money out of this God-forsaken wrestlin’ business and we’ve lost plenty, too. But I truly don’t know many who can make it in wrestlin’ now, not here in England. If Drew and Toasty have to go abroad to make money, well, you’d only be holdin’ Drew back. Your father has plans for ‘em both, but it means they won’t be stayin’ in England to make their livin’. There’s plenty of other places besides here they can go to wrestle.” Louisa looked fondly at Claudine. “I regret that Toasty hasn’t applied himself more in school, but I can’t tell him otherwise. I don’t want to have those regrets for you, luv. I want you to go on to college and get your degree in whatever you want. You are so capable and creative. I know you have a golden future ahead of you, but you can’t get trapped with Drew and I’d say the same to him, too.” “Wouldn’t gettin’ involved with Noah be holdin’ me back too?” retorted Claudine loudly as her father walked in. As always, he already knew what was going on. “I hear you’ve been are avoidin’ this Noah Epson’s calls,” said Billy, clapping Claudine on the shoulder. “Does this have anythin’ to do with Drew?” “God, no! I just explained this to Mum!” said Claudine, exasperated. “I have already spoken to Noah and I can tell you for certain that he’s not a wrestlin’ fan. That should say it all!” “Oh, by the Christ, Claudine,” Billy said with a laugh. “People aren’t trying to offend you if they’re not wrestlin’ fans. Your mum isn’t a wrestlin’ fan, and look at us.” Billy appreciated at the crushed look on Claudine’s face and softened. “Listen, I like Drew. He’s a good person and an extraordinary athlete,” he said. “He’ll become a great wrestler if he’s given the chance. But him and wrestlin’ are not what Mum and I want for you.”

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“Don’t let a bit of infatuation for Drew cloud your judgment about what is out there in the world,” added Louisa. “You’re both young with your whole lives ahead of you, but you’re both naïve, which can lead to plenty o’ things goin’ wrong.” Billy sat himself down next to Claudine and put both of his hands on her shoulders, looking her dead in the eye. “The last thin’ you need is to fall in love with Drew, or worse, get pregnant!” he said sternly. “I can’t see that happenin’ unless you were blinded by foolishness! I will not condone any promiscuity in this house. Do you understand?” Tears were rolling down Claudine’s cheeks now. She stood up for herself when arguing with her mum, but any kind of reprimand or harsh words from her dad wilted her. “There’s nothin’ goin’ on between us,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “He’s me best friend and that’s all. You don’t need to send him away, please don’t.” “Oh, stop that,” said Billy, pulling his daughter into a hug. “We’re not sending Drew anywhere. It’s just that we have had magnificent plans for you since the day you were born. You’re meant for greater things than just being quiet and livin’ domestically. It’s like you’re livin’ in a fish bowl here. You will be startin’ college sooner than you think. You need to be decidin’ what direction you are goin’ to take. You’re a brilliant student, you’ve already been accepted into several colleges, and we’ve got money saved to pay for your tuition. You just need to decide what you want to do.” “It might be good for you to talk with this Noah Epson—he’s from a very good family, and he seems like a good person as well,” said Louisa, rubbing Claudine’s back. “Maybe if you gave him a chance you might enjoy his company.” Claudine broke away and looked up at her dad and over at her mom. Four concerned eyes stared back at her. “I’ll go for a meal with Noah if you think I should,” she said finally. But just because Claudine agreed to go out with Noah didn’t mean she was pleased. “It’s a bloody waste of time, goin’ out with this Noah,” she confided to Claire over the phone later that evening. “Me mum’s all excited about it, like it might actually amount to somethin,’ which it won’t.” 59

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“Most girls would be mad over him, being that he’s fit and he’s the heir to Epson Breweries,” said Claire. “I hear he’s tryin’ out for the Olympic tennis team too, but he doesn’t hold a candle to your Drew.” “Well, I already know he’s not a wrestlin’ fan,” said Claudine. “And besides, his ‘fit’ is nowhere close to Drew’s. He’s dead arrogant too, and Drew isn’t. But you know how I feel about Drew.” “Just wear somethin’ dead ridiculous, without your mum seeing it,” suggested Claire with a laugh. “Then for certain, he won’t ask you out for a second time. I’ll lend you me dad’s yellow waistcoat and his plaid driving hat, if you like.” “I’d like to, but I best not wear anythin’ too daft, just in case me mum finds out,” said Claudine, although the thought of showing up to her date dressed in Claire’s dad’s clothes was pretty amusing. “Me mum seldom comes out of her room lately except to set me up for meals with non-wrestlin’ fans. It’d be my luck that she’d catch me goin’ out the door wearin’ your dad’s yellow waistcoat.” “You could always throw your silverware at him.” “Ha, ha. Oh, by the way, I don’t want you to tell Drew about this. He sort of knows me mum is arrangin’ these things, but he doesn’t need to know all the details. It will only aggravate him. He’s wrestlin’ in Sheffield tomorrow night with Toasty, so hopefully I’ll get this nipped in the bud once and for all.” Claudine didn’t have a lot of clothes, but Claire, who was nearly the same build as Claudine, shared plenty of her outfits with her. Claudine went over after school and chose a pair of Claire’s skinny denims and a butter-yellow silk blouse for the date. She paired them with her own black pumps and pulled her hair off to the side in a loose plait. She wanted her mum to see that she was making an effort, but tonight, Louisa was in her bedroom with the door locked when Claudine went downstairs. Her mum seemed to sad a lot lately. “Just pretend you’re actin’ out a role in a film tonight,” Claudine muttered to herself as she threw a ball for Betty the Rottweiler and Gracie the Pit Bull to chase. “Just get this silly meal over with.” Noah arrived at front door just before six. He looked rather stylish in a V-neck black jumper and a soft black leather aviator jacket, and 60

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shiny gel holding his neat black hair in place. Claudine thought his grey plaid pants, which revealed his stick-thin legs, would have looked better on her than they did on him. His face was clean-shaven, except for the moustache he was starting to grow. As he looked about the home’s impressive front hall, Betty and Gracie playfully started circling him, hoping for some attention. He kept his hands in his pockets and stiffly examined the beautiful old oriental rugs and antiques Billy had collected over the years. “Well, I’m surprised. I didn’t know you lot lived in such style,” he said with a hint of loftiness. “How many rooms in this place?” “Not sure, too many to count,” said Claudine crisply. “I guess it’s not a good idea to ever get your dad mad, right, or is that a big rumour?” said Noah as he strained his neck around to see if there was any sign of Billy. “I heard he’s got a really bad temper. Maybe we better go before he comes down.” “Me dad’s not here at the moment, and no, he’s not got a bad temper at all. He’s wonderful,” said Claudine. She followed Noah out to the car, staring at his narrow, slouching shoulders. She almost felt sorry for him because he was so far out of the running for her affections and he seemed so nervous too. But when he got Claudine outside into his car, his nervousness soon wore off. “You know I told me mates that I was takin’ you out for a meal at a restaurant,” he told her when they stopped at a traffic light. “I figure that’s the only place we can really talk, because you wouldn’t fit in at the tennis club.” His eyes were fixed on her breasts. “What’s that supposed to mean? That’s like sayin’ you wouldn’t really fit in at wrestlin’ matches,” she countered, wishing he would look at her face. “Well, you might be right there, I probably wouldn’t fit in at a wrestlin’ match,” he said, continuing to stare at Claudine’s breasts. “But that’s not on me list of things to do, either. There are some things I would like to do, though,” he said, raising his eyebrows. Claudine felt uncomfortable. In all the chats she had with Claire about this night, they never discussed the possibility of this kind of conversation. The car was an automatic transmission with the gearshift around the steering column, so there was no consul, just a big flat 61

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front seat with plenty of room—this made Claudine feel even more uncomfortable. She crossed her arms and changed the subject. “So, you know me brother Toasty and his partner Drew are wrestlin’ now for me dad?” she said. “They’re with me dad at a packed house in Sheffield tonight. I’m rather proud of them, you know? They’re so young and already making a lot of noise.” “This is totally off-topic, but you seem uncomfortable with me lookin’ at your tits,” said Noah bluntly. He gave Claudine a slick smile. “Well, that is off-topic! Don’t be lookin’ there, please,” said Claudine, shocked. “I’m not comfortable with that.” She knew that what he had just said was grounds enough to never have to go out with him again. For a moment, though, she wondered whether this was normal conversation for a first date. Maybe she really was living inside a fish bowl. “I’m sorry. I’m being rude. I thought that’s what a wrestler’s daughter would want to talk about.” He looked over again and smiled like he thought he was being funny. “That’s wrong, is it?” “Yes, that is a dead wrong assumption. Why would you think that? What do you even know about wrestlin’?” “Well, I know plenty about wrestlin’,” said Noah, driving with one hand. “I know they all read scripts, even your brother. And they rehearse their lines and moves out back in your dad’s big barn. Then they play-act it out in the ring in front of the fans, except they’re dreadful actors. Me dad told me they’re all friends behind the stage and they bite blood capsules to make it look like they’re bleedin.’” “Well you’re dead wrong on all counts,” snapped Claudine. “Wouldn’t a blood capsule get bitten open or dissolve as soon as they started wrestlin’? And there’s no stage, therefore there’s no backstage at me dad’s shows. And so what if some o’ them are friends? Haven’t you seen footballers or boxers or combat fighters go against each other in the competition, then shake hands afterwards? And this folklore about scripts is just inconceivable. If it’s all scripted, then are you tellin’ me that the Argus the Wrestlin’ Bear reads English and studies the script with me dad? I didn’t know you were that addle-headed!” 62

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About a year ago, Billy employed a talented Italian wrestler named Angelo and his healthy, happy wrestling bear named Argus. Argus was an orphaned bear cub that Angelo adopted—he grew up to be a jolly, beloved wrestler who also happened to be a black bear. “Well, maybe the bear doesn’t read the scripts, but he’s told what to do,” said Noah. “Oh, my God! Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds? What if Argus doesn’t feel like doin’ what he’s told? Maybe he puts his big black paw up around the referee’s ear and whispers he wants to change things from the script. Does the bear speak in a Northern English or Bear dialect when he’s givin’ orders?” asked Claudine sarcastically. She could hardly wait for this night to end. The rest of the night wore exhaustingly on. After the meal, which was rife with strained dialogue, Noah was anxious to move onto other things he planned for their evening out. They got into his antique and immaculate Vauxhall sedan and Noah drove back to Claudine’s house. He turned on his radio and began playing dance tunes. It was quiet for a while, much to Claudine’s relief. Then Claudine noticed that Noah had taken a wrong turn onto a dark road not far from where Claudine lived. “That’s the wrong way,” Claudine said, but Noah ignored her and pulled over. “You know, you’re a wicked bird,” he said, turning to her and looking at her as though she was something good to eat. “I like you, Claudine. Outside of wrestlin’ and tennis, we might have a chance. I can’t promise anythin,’ because I have to think of how it all plays out with me tennis career and gettin’ me degree. I have a reputation, you know, and you’re just a wrestler’s daughter. But let’s see how this goes. Like I said, I can’t promise anythin’ ‘til after we’ve gone to the next level.” With this chivalrous declaration, Noah pounced on her in the front seat of his car. He grabbing her breasts tightly, squeezing them like they were made of soft clay. He quickly had his pants down past his hips and was trying to force Claudine to feel his excitement, gyrating and pushing himself on top of her. Claudine kicked and twisted around until she got out from underneath him. 63

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“I just paid for your meal, and you got to be seen out in public with me!” he said crossly. “So let’s see your tits. C’mon, let me have a feel.” “No! Stop it!” she yelled, pushing him away. “What the fuck’s the matter with you?” he demanded. “Get your knickers off and blow me while you’re at it. Don’t just sit there! I’m fuckin’ randy and you’ve been teasin’ me all night! C’mon!” “What are you talking about? I never indicated that I wanted to touch any of you,” she retorted. “Bloody hell! We’ve not even kissed! You’re a scrawny little bastard! Me dad will kill you if –” Noah pounced on her again. Claudine tried to put him in a catch wrestling hold but couldn’t manage it. “So you want to kiss? Is that it? C’mon then,” he said as he tried to put his lips up to hers. His tongue was thin and pointy as he tried to shove it in her mouth. She refused, turning her head back and forth. He grabbed her breasts again, holding her down as he tried to unzip her pants. Finally, he was in a good position for Claudine to fight back. With the force of a stiff head butt, she jammed her chin into his eye socket and kneed him in his groin. With his eye shut and watering, he rolled off her, moaning in agony. She wasted no time in jumping out of the car and making a run for it. It was dark outside now and the air was chilly, although Claudine was hot and sweating from her scuffle. She was a bundle of nerves, and furious at Noah for saying she was “just a wrestler’s daughter.” A wave of relieve hit her when she saw the iron gates at the front of the compound. Once she got in the front door of her house, she ran straight up to her room and locked the door, immediately dialing Claire’s number. “So, how was your date?” asked Claire immediately. “Oh God, Claire,” said Claudine, and she launched into a detailed explanation of what had just happened. She was shaking, but she felt lucky that she hadn’t been raped. “That bloody bastard!” said Claire. “How dare he…” “Do you think I should tell Drew?” Claudine asked.

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“I don’t know.” Claire paused. “If you do, count on him annihilatin’ Noah. You remember what he did at the Baths to Timothy, just for sayin’ you were sexy? Drew might kill Noah if he finds out and that wouldn’t be good. I’m dead serious.” Billy and the boys came home from the Sheffield show a little while later. Claudine pretended she was asleep and waited until everyone went to bed before she silently crept downstairs to see Drew. Although she had resolved to take Claire’s advice, she still wanted to see him before she turned in. He was lying in bed, half asleep. “Hey, Claudine. What brings you down here, you silly thing?” he said sleepily. “Oh, I just wanted to see that you’re okay. How was Sheffield? She asked. “It was great. Toasty and I wrestled each other because two of the wrestlers didn’t show up. We went nearly thirty minutes. We had the fans cheerin’ for us both, but it was funny, when Toasty beat me, some of the fans booed him. He didn’t like that much… but your dad was dead pleased with the fight. I think he wants to run there again in a month, so that’s a good sign of things pickin’ up.” “Oh, that should make me mum feel better,” said Claudine, sitting down on the edge of the bed and stroking Drew’s curls. “I had that meal with that pest Noah tonight, the skinny tennis player, but nothing much to say about that. Just a waste of time. At least now me mum can’t say I didn’t give the lad a chance.” Something in her voice cued Drew off. “Was it okay, Chick? Nothin’ happened? He didn’t get funny with you, did he?” “Oh, no, everythin’ is fine. I just can’t stand people who aren’t wrestlin’ fans. Well, I best get back upstairs. I love you. I’ll see you in the morning.” “I love you, too. Goodnight,” Drew whispered.

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6 ‘TILL DEATH DO US PART One night Claudine and Drew almost made love in the old lorry parked behind the barn. It was a safe place to go, for the most part, when they wanted to snog. On this particular occasion, things almost went past the point of no return. Claudine was only a breath away from saying, “Go on Drew, I’ll take me chances,” but instead she pulled away. A frustrated Drew punched his fist hard into the inside wall of the lorry. “Maybe we could get condoms, just in case,” he grunted as they walked away from the lorry, which was now sporting a large convex bulge visible from the outside. Claudine considered the condom idea for a while. She believed it was a sin to have sex before marriage, as her parents had told her for years. As Drew and her desires grew stronger, she started to think God might punish her by with a pregnancy out of wedlock if they gave in and made love before marriage. “Let me think about it,” she told Drew. He squeezed her hand. The next morning, as the family was having a morning brew of coffee, Billy noticed the new puppy was playing with and chewing on 67

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some kind of foreign object. The curious little pup was an abandoned mutt that Louisa befriended recently while she was out shopping. He had soft, long fur and big floppy ears the colour of butter toffee. Toasty had christened him Cedric, and he already had everyone thoroughly charmed. “What have you got there, pup?” said Billy, trying to fish the object out of the puppy’s mouth. Cedric whined and lashed his head back and forth, trying to keep his prize. Suddenly, he started making choking noises and his little brown eyes bulged. “Dad! He’s chokin’!” wailed Claudine. Everyone gathered round Billy to get a closer look at what was going on, shouting instructions and suggestions. Billy pried open the puppy’s jaws, sticking two large fingers inside and pulling out what looked like a large, pale, floppy worm. “Ugh!” said Louisa. “You poor thing, where did you find that?” The family stared in horror at the obviously used condom lying on the floor. Claudine felt sick. Why had she ever thought of using such a thing? Louisa gaped, but it was Billy’s expression that showed that something was really amiss. “Kids, go get ready for school,” said Louisa sharply. Toasty, Claudine, and Drew filed out. “I’d bet it’s Firpo’s,” muttered Toasty to Claudine before heading to his room. Firpo was a wrestler living temporarily out back in the barn, as many wrestlers did while they were doing shows with the IWF. He was the brunt of many inside jokes due to his “worker’s walk,” a distinct, flat-footed, intentionally bull-legged gait that some wrestlers seemed to acquire along with unintentional chafing of the inner thighs. Claudine secretly agreed with Toasty—a few days prior to Cedric’s close call, she had seen Firpo sneaking a drunk-looking woman into the barn. Evidently Billy and Louisa had come to the same conclusion. “The pup was choking on a used condom this morning!” Billy was yelling at Firpo over by the barn as the kids headed out to catch the bus. “I don’t want me family, especially me wife and daughter, to ever set eyes on a scene as vulgar as this morning’s and certainly not

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in our own kitchen! Are you aware of anything unusual going on me property?” Claudine surreptitiously turned a bit so she could see what was going on. Firpo shook his head. “I have not a clue, Billy, not a clue. I’m certainly not responsible, I promise you that, but I will keep my eyes peeled for the dirty culprits and tell them a thing or two about respect. I’ve not seen anything unusual though, no, not at all.” He then took off, with surprising speed, to the back of the barn. “Probably pickin’ up after himself now,” said Toasty with a snigger. After that little incident Claudine was completely put off by the idea of using a condom. “I don’t care for the idea o’ condoms, but I can’t get pregnant, certainly if we’re not married,” she told Drew later as they strolled around the property, trying to stay out of the way of wrestlers and Billy’s staff. “I’d be willing to see the doctor and ask for birth control. But I want to wait ‘til we’re married before we do anything, or we’ll end up doing it all the time, relying on the birth control to keep us safe, and we’ll end up gettin’ caught doin’ it because we got lazy and let our guard down. You know what I mean?” Drew looked at Claudine in disbelief, but after a moment, he nodded his head in agreement. “You’re probably right. You’re probably very right.” It was November, but the day was mild and sunny. At the edge of a patch of trees, Claudine turned and looked at Drew, a determined look in her eyes. “I hate all this sneakin’ about and being hot and bothered behind the barn with you or in the lorry because there’s no place else for us to go and always being frustrated. I love you, Drew, and I’ve always only wanted to be with you,” she said earnestly. “Your eighteenth birthday is comin’ up next month. I hate to be so demandin’, but, ummm, Drew, will you marry me?” The grin on Drew’s face was so wide that his usually downturned eyes crinkled up with joy. “Yes, Chick, I love you too and I only want to be with you. You have to know that by now,” he said, pulling her behind a tree and embracing her. “So I agree—I think we should get married as soon as I’m legal. See your doctor straight away about goin’ on birth control—get it into your system so it’s workin’ proper. From now ‘til me eighteenth birthday, we’ll just have 69

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to play it dead calm. We can’t get caught kissin’ or anythin’ that might make Billy send me to Africa for a nice long tour,” he said, only half joking. “We have to be smart and strong, like we’ve been this whole time, just for another month. Right after I’ve turned eighteen, we’ll go get married and have our honeymoon at me cottage. Our first time will be summat special. But we can’t tell anyone, not even Toasty or Claire.” How they got through the next month Claudine would never know, but the days finally crawled by and, finally, it was December 2nd. They celebrated in typical Bonham fashion and Louisa baked a chocolate zucchini cake for Drew. There was a wrestling show that night in Liverpool, so the celebrations were short. The lads had to get on the road. After the show, Toasty and Drew ended up going for a few pints up near Liverpool. It was a packed house and Drew felt it was a good omen on his birthday. “Hey, Drew, can’t tell you how happy I am to celebrate your eighteenth with you,” said Toasty as they clinked glasses. “I love you, mate. You’re like a brother to me and I hope you marry me sister one of these days. Now be a good laddie and give us the keys to the lorry so I can have a cuddle with Miss Kitty over here,” he said with a silly smile. Toasty was slightly intoxicated, looking lustfully over to his girl du jour. “Here you go mate, and thanks for bein’ like a brother to me, too,” Drew said as he gave his best friend the keys. He was glad he and Claudine would be married in a day or two and they wouldn’t have to go into the lorry for a cuddle, let alone to make love. Just after Drew turned eighteen, he and Claudine gave notice of their intent to wed at the local register office in Chester. They provided passports, their National Identity Cards, and drivers’ permits to prove who they were and they were both eighteen. After sixteen days, on a cold Thursday afternoon, Claudine told her mum and dad she was spending the night at Claire’s house to work on her studies. She and Drew quietly, but excitedly, returned to the register’s office with simple gold wedding bands in their pockets. Drew paid the fee for the Official Registrar to conduct the wedding right there and then. 70

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“I’m so nervous, Drew!” whispered Claudine as they were waiting for the ceremony to start. “Shhhh… shhhh… it’s all right,” Drew whispered, trying to soothe her quietly. “You’re sure you want to marry me?” “I’m sure,” Claudine whispered, nodding her head. “I’ve never been so sure about anythin’ in me whole life.” “We won’t have to worry about anythin’ anymore, after this,” Drew said. “I will always protect you, Claudine. This isn’t just so we can have wild sex, by the way,” he added with a sly grin. “Oh, Drew!” she smiled back, giving him a little shove. In less than an hour, the ceremony was taking place. They politely said their vows and kissed in front of the Official Registrar and the two relatively unknown witnesses, then signed the marriage contract. Just like that, they were husband and wife in the eyes of God. Afterwards, the happy newlyweds rushed back to Drew’s cottage. He had been busy there. There was sparkling wine chilling, and cheese, nuts, grapes and crackers waiting on a tray. Fresh baby flowers lined the stairs leading up to the master bedroom. There was a soft velour blanket on the bed, but not a lot of pretty, sensual bedding. It was basic and wholesome, just perfect for the young couple. Drew was beaming as he picked Claudine up as though she were made of air and carried her through the doorway of their new home. He kissed her passionately and held her his arms as he brought her into the back kitchen. “I really want to get with you, Claudine. But, let me just light the candles and get things a bit more ready, all right?” he said. Claudine was a nervous wreck. She anxiously watched and waited as Drew went about the kitchen, then the front room, and then up the stairs, lighting candles, putting on a record, and running back to her every few steps to kiss her. He could tell she was tense. “Hey, what’s up, Chick? Are you all right?” he asked her, stopping everything he was doing when he saw her distress. “I’m just dead nervous about everythin,’” admitted Claudine. “What if me dad finds out and comes walkin’ through that door right now?”

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Drew smiled his knowing smile and Claudine’s heart throbbed in response. “You’re dad’s not goin’ to know anythin,’” he said reassuringly. “And you mum, as sad as this sounds, she’s probably already in bed. I think Toasty’s in love with the bird-du-jour, so he’s not going to be askin’ where you are either. Just relax, Chick. Trust me.” He kissed her again and rubbed his hands up and down her ribcage, grazing his thumbs across her breasts. She sat still and tall on the edge of the kitchen table. “Drew, what if God is watchin’ us right now?” she asked anxiously. “What’ll he think, watchin’ us make love? What if your dad is watchin’ or even mad at us for not gettin’ me parents’ blessin’? What if…” Drew pulled away for a moment and looked into Claudine’s worried face. “Here, Chick, let me pour you a glass of wine,” he said finally. “It will help you relax. I’m goin’ to have a glass too. We should make a toast, don’t you think?” He grabbed the bottle of bubbly out of the refrigerator and popped the cork. Tiny light pink bubbles spilled over the top of the bottle and into their champagne flutes as he poured their drinks. Claudine smiled, feeling a little better. “Here’s to me beautiful, sexy bride. I love you so much, Chick!” They clinked glasses and Claudine took a tiny sip. Drew arched his thick eyebrows. “What’s that? A sip for a mouse?” Claudine took another small sip, then another bigger sip. She smiled again and kissed Drew. “I’m sorry. You know I get nervous,” she reminded him. “C’mon, sit on the couch and let me finish getting things ready for us,” he said as he reluctantly pulled himself away from her. He topped her glass of sparkles off as they moved into the living room. “I’m so sorry, Drew,” said Claudine. “I’m dead nervous. I got all these bad ideas goin’ through me head about things that never bothered me before. What if God is right in this room, ummm, watching us about to get naked? He sees everythin,’ you know that. So what will he think if I even have a smile on me face when you’re… ummm… oh, gosh, I can’t even say the words,” Claudine said in a fret.

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“C’mon. God isn’t goin’ to be disappointed in you or me. We’re married now, we are supposed to make love, God wants us to,” Drew said encouragingly. “C’mon, Chick. I’m not bein’ funny with you, but take another drink. I know it’ll help you. It’s makin’ me feel better. That’s what wine is for, for celebrations.” Drew sat next to her for a moment and smoothed her hair, running his hand down her face to cup her chin. “I want this night to be right for us. It won’t be good if you can’t get ideas about God watching us out of your head. C’mon, have a bigger sip and just relax. I’ll be right back,” he said, giving her another very passionate kiss. She could feel the alcohol starting to give her courage, and she kissed him back with less reservation than she ever had before. “Wow, Chick. That’s quite the kiss!” Drew said as he went upstairs. Claudine took another sip of her drink and then filled her glass again. She drank it down in two sips, then hurriedly drank more down. She felt so good after the first few sips that she believed it would only get better with more. She had never had much to drink before. Drew reappeared, this time in a robe. He had one for Claudine. It was a turquoise blue Japanese-inspired robe. “I got this for you. Could you put it on for me?” he asked sweetly. Claudine, feeling a little woozy from the alcohol, quietly took her full glass of champagne and tiptoed up the stairs. “I just need five minutes. Can you meet me upstairs?” she called down. Within five minutes, Claudine was naked underneath her lovely robe, waiting for Drew. The bedroom was cold and dimly light by a sole flickering candle. The leaded glass windows, thickly beamed ceilings, dusty rose-flowered wallpaper, and ornate old wrought-iron bed gave the room an antiquated look. Claudine took another big sip of champagne and lay down on the cosy blanket, feeling very uninhibited. “Drew, I’m ready now,” she called. She listened to Drew’s heavy footsteps on the stairs and down the hall. He appeared at the bedroom door, majestic in his navy robe. He was always so handsome in her eyes.

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Drew kneeled on the bed and went to kiss her. She sat up and reached for her flute of champagne, gulping down what was left. As she sat up and began to passionately kiss Drew, the room started to move even though she was still. Slowly, Drew untied Claudine’s robe and stared at her naked shape, outlining her soft body with his strong, callused hands. He pushed his forearm in between her thighs, nudging them apart as he positioned his pelvis in between her legs. She trembled as she felt his fingers go inside her and sighed into his ear. Drew leaned his powerful body on top of hers. She fell back. The room seemed to spin in slow motion. “It’s okay, Chick. It’s going to be okay,” she heard Drew say as he penetrated her. She winced as she felt him go inside her. It felt like things were tearing, but somehow she began to feel more relaxed. The champagne had been a good idea, but too much of it too fast made Claudine feel dizzy. She closed her eyes and tried to stop the spinning in her head. As the room began to dance in circles like a merry-go-round, Claudine could hear things fade in and out as she lay motionless on the bed. “God, you feel so good,” Drew breathed into her ear in a sultry voice. He kissed the nape of her neck passionately and cupped her breast, squeezing it tighter and harder, pushing it up to his mouth. He took her nipple into his mouth and sucked it, driving himself harder as he went deeper into her. Aggressively he grabbed her hips and turned her over on her stomach, continuing to thrust himself into her from behind. She arched her back and raised her hips, feeling a pleasure she had never felt before. Claudine raised her head from the old down pillows and looked dizzily from side to side at Tommy Bellamy’s old bedroom. She felt aroused yet weak. The sentimental room, along with Drew’s hungry and intoxicating sighs, were the last things she vaguely remembered about her honeymoon.

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PART TWO

7 WRESTLING INTERNATIONALLY “Let’s get this party started!” shouted a loud and clear voice on the telly. “When is Dad and Uncle Toasty’s match?” asked Dempsey, sitting on the floor in front of the TV set. He had his Superman and Thor action figures in his lap, along with a little wrestling ring he and his dad built together. It had stretchy ropes, ring posts made of long thick bolts, and a cloth canvas that was pasted onto the wooded frame. “Not sure,” said Claudine. She felt like she was going crazy. There was a lopsided wooden structure in front of her, with a pile of unused boards and metal nuts and screws on the table. It looked absolutely nothing like the picture she was holding. “Dempsey! I have some new wrestlers for you!” said Isabella, handing Dempsey two gaudily dressed fashion dolls dressed like female rock stars. At nine, she thought they made better wrestling dolls than toys. 75

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“Thanks, Belle,” he said accommodatingly, putting the dolls in the ring. Claudine glanced over at her children, then looked back at the pamphlet that had come with the TV cabinet. She couldn’t understand what she had done wrong and was getting more and more frustrated with the badly designed diagrams. “I don’t think they even sent me this part,” she said quietly to herself, pointing to a metal peg in the diagram. She looked through the pile of metal parts sitting on the table. “How am I supposed to… oh…” she said as her hands closed around the peg. Tears came to her eyes unbidden. How had she been unable to put a damned TV cabinet together when she had an entire week to do it while Drew was on the road? “Okay, if I put this here,” she muttered, picking up the hammer, “it will… Ouch!” She hammered her thumb and instantly put it in her mouth to ease the pain and abruptly dropped the ruthless hammer to the floor. “What a piece of rubbish!” she shouted, violently kicking the crooked cabinet. It fell over with a crunch. “Can I kick it too, Mum?” said Dempsey excitedly. “No, luv. Mummy shouldn’t have done that,” she said, watching the new cat, Mr. Wonderful, sniff the pile of boards and plastic parts suspiciously. She was so angry she wanted to throw the entire thing out the window. Just then, an engine revved outside. “Dad!” shrieked the two kids, running to the front of the house along with the barking dogs. “Hi, kids! Did you miss me?” Claudine heard Drew’s booming voice ask a minute later. She looked helplessly down at the pile of wood at her feet. Drew came in, towering over everything else in the room, lugging a huge duffel bag. “Hi Chick,” he said. “It’s good to be home. What are you doin’ in here?” He looked curiously at the heap on the floor. “Drew, can you throw this away before I smash it to pieces?” she said in a strained voice, holding her hands to her temples. Drew came over and put his arm around his wife, staring at the pile. “It’s all right, Chick. Let me work on it later,” he said. “It’s not 76

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goin’ anywhere. I want to go have a workout at Roach’s Gym in Wigan—I’ve not seen him in a while. We’ll fix this when I get back.” “No, get it out of here!” Claudine yelled, picking up a board and smashing it back down to the ground. “It’s been in me way for a week while you’ve been on the road. I thought it was already put together when it got here, because that’s what it said in the advert, but clearly wasn’t. I still tried and tried to piece it together! When I couldn’t get it right, it just made me realize how stupid I am! Please Drew, just get it out of here!” she said, tears spilling from her eyes. She ran up to her room, slamming the heavy oak door behind her. It was too solid to make much noise, which further upset Claudine. “I can’t even slam a bloody door properly. What’s the point of me?” she asked herself out loud, throwing herself onto her bed. She reminded herself of her mum when she got upset over things no one seemed to see. Back in the living room, Drew tried to remedy things. “Here, Dempsey, Bella, let’s sort this out for Mummy,” he said to his two children. “I can train at Roach’s another day. Now, let’s take a look at these bloody complicated directions and see what all the fuss is about, shall we?” Both of the kids climbed onto his father’s ample lap and looked thoughtfully at the plans. Soon, they were all hard at work. In a few hours, Claudine heard the door of her bedroom open. She realized she had fallen asleep. Turning over, she saw Dempsey’s bright blue eyes staring at her over the tall bed. “Mum, come downstairs. Dad’s got something to show you.” Claudine got up and let her son take her hand. He led her downstairs, sturdy bare feet slapping the wood floors. With a start, she realized the eleven-year-old was already nearly as tall as she was. “Demps, you’re gettin’ so tall!” she commented, squeezing her son’s hand. He turned around and beamed. “Soon I’ll be as big as Dad!” he said. Claudine followed Dempsey into the living room, where Drew was just moving the TV onto the brand-new cabinet.

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“It wasn’t your fault it wouldn’t go together,” he said, wrapping an arm around her waist. “There was a missin’ part. We had to run out to the store to get it. You’re not stupid, luv, the bloody cabinet company is! Now go get dressed and let’s go out to eat.” Things like going out for tea or having Chinese or Indian food on a whim was now a way of life for the Bellamys. It was terrific to go to a fancy restaurant and have the owner come up to Drew and ask for an autographed photo for the restaurant wall. “Mr. Bellamy, may I recommend you try our fresh catch of the day, it’s a halibut cheeks tonight… please, let me get you and the missus a glass of our imported Niagara Falls Chardonnay, very fruity and crisp… please, on the house… perhaps bottles of Pellegrino for the children? Oh, you have such a beautiful family! How is your partner, Toasty?” Claudine smiled as Drew cordially took care of the waiter, who looked completely star-struck. With their glasses full of wine and Pellegrino, Drew proposed a toast. He did this every time they went out for dinner. “Okay, I’m going to make a toast! Cheers to our wonderful family, and cheers to the IWF!” They all clinked their glasses. “Cheers! Cheers!” said Isabella, theatrically clinking glasses with everyone at the table. Isabella loved toasts, having seen them in many of the movies she watched and absorbed at home. The family enjoyed a lavish seafood meal, complete with deluxe fish and chips for the kids and plenty of wine for Claudine. After they got home, Claudine and Drew put the kids to bed and lay down on the big velvet chesterfield. The fire was on and old jazz music played on the radio. Claudine laid her head on Drew’s big, broad chest. “It’s hot as blazes in here. Here, Chick. Let me just take me shirt off,” said Drew as he stood and pulled his shirt off over his head. Claudine started. The imprint of the sole of a boot was clearly visible on his back. “What’s that, Drew?” she asked in concern. “What’s what?” he said, and he tried to move around so Claudine couldn’t see his back.

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“You’ve got what looks like a big boot print on your back. What happened?” she asked. “Oh, that,” he said, trying to sound casual. “I remember. You’re right, it’s a boot print. It’s just summat that happened with me and Toasty a few nights back. Some bloke in the pub after the show got cute, so Toasty made a bet with him that he couldn’t beat me. We had a fight, along with about three other blokes and Toasty got involved. It happens a lot, but it’s nothin’ to worry about,” said Drew. “What do you mean, it happens a lot and don’t worry about it?” Claudine asked, quite alarmed. She sat up and looked pointedly at her husband. “You and Toasty are becomin’ targets now that you’re famous around here. I don’t care if it’s arm wrestlin’ like you used to do or if it’s toe-to-line stuff. You and Toasty have too much at stake now, and what happens to you affects all of us, me Mum, and Dad, too.” “Yah, but these drunks are the ones pickin’ the fights with me and Toasty. They go for the old wrestlers too,” said Drew defensively. “We’re just watchin’ out for each other. Your dad wouldn’t want us to just sit there like spare pricks at a whore’s weddin’ while these arseholes call us out, right?” “Drew, I know what you’re sayin’,” Claudine said consolingly. “I loathe that as much as you do, but me dad’s warned all the wrestlers, includin’ you and Toasty, about not fightin’ in pubs or back lanes or in parkin’ lots—not anywhere outside of the ring, period. He’s told you that as plain as he’d tell you not to smoke cigarettes! The IWF doesn’t need the bad publicity if summat happened. It could be a costly aggravation for everyone.” “All right. All right,” said Drew, heaving a sigh. “I promise not to fight except in the ring. C’mon Chick, rub me back now.” Claudine massaged him with great thoroughness, rubbing out the aches of the past week, while she ruminated on what she had just heard. On the road trips, Drew and Toasty, along with the other wrestlers, often went to nightclubs after their matches. Claudine thought these places were unsavoury and had witnessed, on her rare visits to them, many young girls who cursed and danced, screaming

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for the world to take notice of them. On the few occasions she had accompanied Drew to these clubs, Claudine was dreadfully uncomfortable. These places, she knew, were probably where Drew and Toasty kept running into drunk blokes who were angry that their girlfriends were batting their eyelashes at the wrestlers. Just as Drew was getting really drowsy, the phone rang. Claudine ran to get it. “Hello?” “Dad’s bought a used AIRPLANE even though I begged him not to!” Louisa practically screamed into the phone. “And he’s also bought fifty acres of land and hired people to put in a landin’ strip on it! I think he’s going barmy, I really do! Just when we start to get on our feet, he does crazy, extravagant things like this that are not even good investments! He’s bought expensive machinery for jackin’ up lorries, weldin’ rings, cuttin’ tile, slicin’ meat, makin’ ice, heating the floors in the downstairs. And we don’t need all those things! He’s been buyin’ expensive trees, paving the damned entire pathway with new brick, building an extension to the barn for the wrestlers. He’s even bought me a Triumph 6 sports car, and I don’t know how to drive!” Claudine listened compassionately as Louisa poured her heart out. “We’re not saving for retirin,’ like he promised we could be doing soon, and when I beg and plead with him to take some time off and go away with me, he says he can’t because he can’t trust Toasty with the responsibility, even though he’s promised me for years he’d give me a holiday! We should retire now while we’ve got half a chance and let Toasty run things with Drew, but your dad won’t hear of it! We’re going to go broke, I just know it! And I’ll have never done anything with my life except be a slave to this damned, miserable, ungrateful wrestlin’ business. I don’t know what to do, Claudine!” “It’s all right, Mum, don’t cry,” Claudine said in a soothing voice. “Dad’s not goin’ to go broke. He won’t let that happen. None of us will. We’re all in good shape now, Mum. I understand what you’re sayin’ though, because sometimes I can’t believe Drew either when he tells me that we don’t have to worry any more about money.”

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“I just don’t understand why Billy and I can’t retire and leave the IWF to Toasty,” groaned Louisa. “He’s a grown man! And your father and I are both 67 bloody years old! That’s a perfectly respectable retirin’ age!” “I know, Mum,” said Claudine. “I don’t know what to tell you about Toasty and Dad. They’ve always clashed. Toasty does what he likes and doesn’t respect what Dad wants. Like last week, he had Drew fightin’—” Claudine was cut short by Drew, who had walked in and was emphatically shaking his head. “Never mind,” said Claudine quickly. “The point is, Drew and Toasty are celebrities now and we’ll never go back to being poor and Dad won’t let you down either. You’re his queen and he loves you more than anythin,’ that’s why he is buyin’ you all of these nice things for the house.” After a few more minutes of this and Claudine’s promising to “talk some sense” into Billy, she managed to calm her mum down. She hung up the phone and faced Drew, who was still sitting there. “What’s that all about, Drew?” she asked, imitating how Drew was shaking his head at her. “You’re tellin’ your mum that things are going to be all right and then you start to tell her that Toasty has me fightin’ in pubs after the shows?” said Drew. “You know she’ll go mad with worry about that and your dad will find out too! You can’t just throw Toasty in front of the bus like that, Claudine. I know you’ll take your Dad’s side over Toasty’s nine times out o’ ten, but you have to trust Toasty sometimes too. He’s got outrageous ideas, I admit that, but he’s making everyone plenty o’ money.” “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinkin’,” said Claudine. Billy and Toasty were at odds frequently now about how to run the territory. They clashed over Toasty’s ideas for storylines and over the disagreements that arose every time Toasty came back from a road trip. And even though Claudine assumed her brother was mostly to blame for instigating underground fighting, as she considered it, she also understood his antics. After years of being underestimated and harassed, Toasty was going to prove to the world he was a force truly to be reckoned with and wrestling was not fake. 81

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The next day was Saturday, a special day at the Bellamy household. On Saturdays the Bellamys, along with tens of thousands of others across the United Kingdom, watched the IWF on TV. For sixty minutes, Andrew Campbell’s colourful commentary, combined with the finest wrestling Billy could promote, melded into this exciting and popular sixty-minute show. Coincidentally or not, it was after Toasty began to flaunt his creative ideas that Billy Bonham’s weekly IWF TV show became something families stayed home on a Saturday afternoon to watch, even if they had seen the show live the very night before. It was marvellous to sit together on the luxurious and comfortable big brown velvet chesterfield, which Claudine had custom-made extra big to accommodate Drew’s big body, and watch the show. The whole family, including Mr. Wonderful the cat and the dogs—Dester and Rosy—could all fit on it and there was still room to spare. Rosy lay next to Claudine, who sat next to Drew with Isabella in his lap, and Mr. Wonderful sprawled across both Isabella’s and Drew’s legs. Dempsey and Dexter were on the other side of Drew, wide eyes all glued to the TV, which sat proudly on the new cabinet. Claudine always made sure they had plenty of goodies for their Saturday wrestling viewing parties. There were two home-delivered specialty pizzas, a bottle of red wine, and baklava and hand-crafted pistachio ice cream from a specialty shop in Chester for dessert. “Billy, fire that blind referee!” shouted fans from the TV. “He’s bloody drunk and he’s being paid off by the crooked commissioner!” “Get him out of there, Billy!” “Actually, I don’t know why he doesn’t fire that ref,” grumbled Drew as the ref made yet another bad call against Toasty. “Yea, sersly,” said Dempsey, his mouth full of pizza. Claudine put her arms around Isabella and smiled. Maybe the wrestling match wasn’t perfect, but she felt like she had the perfect family. They had everything they has always dreamed of having, especially each other.

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8 SUCH SUPER-HUMAN STRENGTH Claudine walked into Chester Elementary School with a big smile, toting her brand new, top of the line, video camera in its sleek, blackvinyal, camera bag. Tonight she, Dempsey, and her parents were attending Isabella’s school play while Drew and Toasty were off at a show. As they gathered in the auditorium, many of the parents and grandparents in attendance came by to wish the family well. “Hello, Billy. Good to see you,” said Max, who owned one of the local shoe stores in Chester. “What’s goin’ happen next week on the show? You’re goin’ give your Toasty a title shot against that cheatin’ Dark Angel, right? ‘Cuz he got cheated out of it last week.” Billy grinned at Max—he liked the shop owner and often gave him a few extra wrestling tickets when he went to the shoe store. “Can’t tell you that, can I?” he said slyly. They continued to talk while Louisa, Claudine and Dempsey moved on, looking for their seats. “Let’s take these ones up near the front, Mum,” said Claudine, pointing. They were moving through the small clusters of people when Claudine spotted a young boy rushing towards them, obviously 83

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delighted. He was wearing a Drew Bellamy T-shirt. He ran up to Claudine, holding his arms out, and hugged her around her waist. “I like Drew. He’s me favourite wrestler! He signed me shirt!” said the boy as he broke away. He enthusiastically pointed to the back of his shirt. “To my good friend Oswald, Cheers, Drew Bellamy,” was written there in Drew’s handwriting. “Drew is me favourite wrestler, too!” Claudine said proudly. The young lad held out a black felt tip marker to Claudine. “Sign me shirt! Sign me shirt!” he said. “I’d be happy to. Let’s see, now your name is Oswald?” The boy nodded his head happily. Claudine signed her name and handed the marker back to the young boy. He said a breathless “thanks” before running off. She hardly noticed that many of the parents were staring. Louisa, Claudine, and Dempsey took their seats, a few rows from the front, off to the side so Claudine could set up her tripod. Billy held back, chatting with friends. “Have you heard about your dad’s new tour manager, Newton Haytor, out of Huddersfield?’ Louisa asked her daughter. Louisa had her long dark hair pulled back in an elegant French twist and Claudine thought she looked lovely in her pink lipstick and matching sweatshirt. “No, I’ve not met him yet, but Drew has,” Claudine replied as she locked the tripod into position. “He said he seems trustworthy enough. Drew was impressed Newton got him and Toasty spots on Comic Relief. He must have some decent contacts, or he’s polished enough to get someone’s attention. So, I think he’s doing a good job. What do you think, Mum?” “I think he’s trustworthy too, and he hasn’t complained or dragged his feet about anything,” admitted Louisa, who often had grievances about Billy’s incompetent workers. “He’s like some of the agents your dad had back when you were very young, when our promotion was doin’ beltin’ business. That was a few years after your father won the Olympics, and good people were linin’ up to help him get his promotion going. I think Newton could really help us channel the momentum we’ve been lucky enough to rejuvenate again. He seems to have plenty o’ ideas.” 84

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“Well, I certainly would like to meet him. Could he come up to the house for a Sunday dinner, maybe him and his wife?” “He said his wife lives in Spain, so no one has met her yet. But he’s been invited to the house this Sunday,” said Louisa. “You and Drew will be there, of course, and Dempsey and Isabella too. You can meet him then.” Louisa patted her grandson’s head and when he smiled at her she couldn’t resist giving him a huge hug, the crow’s feet in the corners of her eyes deepening with her smile. Dempsey hugged her back with one arm, holding his two action figure dolls tightly in his other hand. “Nana, Mum is teachin’ me how to do proper squats. Want to see?” he said, trying to move the empty chair in front of him out of his way. A woman sat down in the chair and moved it back to its original position just as Dempsey was about to demonstrate his latest squat form. “Oh!” said Dempsey. With disappointment, he looked at the back of the woman’s head and then at the chairs around her, realizing they were all quickly being taken. “I can’t show you now, Nana,” he said finally. “I can do them without me heels lifting off the floor—Mum says that’s the proper form. I’ll show you later.” “Aww, your mummy’s a good teacher. And you’re the best boy in the world!” said Louisa. “You truly are, Dempsey. Will you show me and your granddad when we get home? We’d love to see it!” Dempsey sat back down, nodding his head and looking thoughtfully at his action-hero dolls. Claudine smiled proudly at him. “You do proper squats indeed, Demps. You make sure your dad does them with you every day and don’t let his heels come off the floor. You do them better than anyone in the house. You should see him, Mum, he’s good at push-ups and dips too. I remember Toasty was always pretty good at that stuff when he was little.” “Yah, he was always competitive with you and Drew. He still likes a challenge.” said Louisa. “And likes to challenge,” Claudine amended. “How is he about Newton? Does he have any issues with him so far?”

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“Surprisingly not,” said Louisa, raising her eyebrows. “He’ll let me know, I’m sure, because he cares and he doesn’t trust someone just because they tell him what he wants to hear. Billy’s the same, but Billy’s not as hot-headed as our Toasty. So, I think it’s a good sign that we’ve not heard anythin’ unsettlin’ about Newton.” “It would be great if you and Dad could start taking time off and let Toasty and Drew start takin’ more responsibility for the shows on the road,” said Claudine. “I mean, you’re both o’ retirement age and deserve a break. If Newton was working hand-in-hand with them on the management end of things, would you and Dad start takin’ more time off?” Louisa smiled. Claudine noticed how tired she looked. “I am hoping that is what eventually happens, and yes, I would love to take time off with your dad, maybe a proper vacation for a month, just somewhere nice. That would be divine!” They stopped chatting as the headmaster of the primary school walked out onto the stage, in front of the heavy dark brown curtain. “Mums and dads! Everyone. Please take your seats. The performance is about to begin.” Claudine switched the video camera on, swivelling it to film Billy as he made his way over and took the empty seat next to Louisa. “Smile for the camera, Dempsey! Say hello to Dad and tell us why we’re here,” she directed. “Hello, Dad! We’re here watchin’ Isabella tonight in her play. She’s the Princess in The Princess And The Pea. And I’m sitting with Nana and Mum’s sitting with Granddad.” The lights started to dim and the audience grew quiet. A spotlight shone faintly on the headmaster as he waited for the audience’s undivided attention. Claudine pointed the camera to the front of the crowded room, looking through it to make sure it captured the whole stage. “Thank you, Mums and Dads. We are delighted to have you all here tonight! It looks like a packed house. We have a wonderful performance of The Princess And The Pea for you all tonight. Our key characters this evening are the Prince, played by Craig Francis;

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the King, played by David Hindley; the Princess, played by Isabella Bellamy; and the Queen, played by Becky Smith. Mrs Herrera, head of our music department, is our piano player for this evening.” The headmaster motioned to a mature woman who was smiling and seated at the old upright piano off to the corner of the auditorium. The curtain rose, the headmaster left the stage, and the show began. Claudine knew it was just a school play, but it seemed to her that Isabella was a real standout. She was only nine years old, but she was captivating to watch—the golden crown looked right at home in the nest of dark curls atop her head. All of her lines were loud and clear and her facial expressions had the audience in stitches more than once. Claudine couldn’t have been more pleased and she couldn’t help but clap and holler enthusiastically along with Dempsey when Isabella came out for her bow. When the play was over, the family headed back to the Bonham house to have a cup of tea. “You were enchanting up on the stage tonight, Bella,” Claudine told Isabella. “You really have a talent for acting.” “Thanks, Mum!” said Isabella, flushed with excitement. Louisa had made chocolate cookies, Isabella’s favourite, and Isabella had little pieces of cookie around her mouth that made her look even cuter than usual. “Could you really feel the pea underneath all the mattresses?” Dempsey asked in earnest. “No, not really,” Isabella admitted as then the phone rang. Claudine got up and answered it. It was Drew. “Hey, Chick, I figured I’d catch you at your dad’s,” he said. “How was Isabella’s play? I bet she was smashing, she’s a good little performer.” “Oh, she was absolutely fabulous. I videotaped it for you so we can watch it when you get home. When will you be home, luv?” Claudine asked. “Well, Chick, don’t panic, but I got arrested tonight for fightin.’ I’m at the police station. They gave me one call, so I’m callin’ you.” “Drew, no! Are you all right?” Claudine asked, beginning to panic despite Drew’s admonition. 87

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“Yah, I’m fine, but I need you and Billy to get me a good lawyer. I’m also goin’ need money, plenty o’ it, for bail.” “Oh my God! What happened? You weren’t fightin’ in one o’ those nightclubs with Toasty, were you?” The family stopped what it was talking about and silently listened to Claudine. Billy looked gravely at his daughter, waiting for his chance to talk to his son-in-law. “I got arrested for fighting with a bobby,” Drew was saying. “But don’t go freaking out on me, Claudine, it’s not the time for a lecture, I’ve been cross-examined enough already tonight by the police. I need you to listen to me.” Claudine leaned against the kitchen wall to keep herself from falling over. She cupped her hand around her mouth and turned her back away from her kids before they could see how distressed she was becoming. Now the other phone line, the business line, was ringing. Billy rushed up to the office and picked it up. It was Toasty. The lads explained what happened to their respective listeners. That night, Drew and Toasty had been the victims of an ambush. Not surprisingly, it all seemed to start with a ‘ring-rat,’ a girl who had been involved with many wrestlers in her day. These wrestling groupies quite often knew no boundaries when it came to getting busy with their favourite wrestling superstar. The ring-rat had not much to lose and everything to gain, if she could one day be the wife of a wrestler. That night, a ring-rat had fallen out with her steady boyfriend and was seen chatting enthusiastically with Toasty inside the club. The jilted boyfriend rounded up five friends and jumped Drew and Toasty outside in the parking lot. Soon it was complete chaos. At one point someone came at Drew from behind and he had instinctively grabbed hold of the fellow and threw him over his head in a classic biel. As the man hit the ground, the attackers realized it was a policeman and fled like cockroaches scuttling away from a light. Drew didn’t bother to check on the bloke he threw over his head, assuming he was one of the troublemakers. Instead, he ran to see how Toasty was doing and saw blood coming out of Toasty’s ear.

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When another law enforcer arrived at the scene to find his partner looking worse for the wear, alone with two scuffed-up professional wrestlers, it was assumed that the wrestlers were the antagonists. The police officer charged Drew with police brutality and accused him of using PCP, saying there was no way anyone could have thrown him unless he was under the influence of drugs. Afterwards, Claudine sat down in the kitchen and tried to gather her nerves as Billy put in a call to his old friend, Ross Allan, one of the best criminal defence solicitors in the country. “Hello, Ross. Billy Bonham here. Sorry to call you so late. Me son-in-law, Drew, has been arrested in Bradford. He’s been accused of assaulting a bobby, according to what me son Toasty said… no, Drew wouldn’t touch a policeman… Toasty’s at the hospital now, getting his eardrum looked. He needs stitches too… We can post bail, whatever it is; I imagine it’ll be high, since they got him on assaulting a peace officer… well, it was at a pub… no, Drew’s not much of a drinker… right, probably protectin’ someone… I agree, I think so… right. Yah, Bradford Police Station, Precinct Number 2. I will wait to hear from you. Thank you, Ross. Speak with you soon.” Billy put the phone down. Claudine looked at her father with wide, desperate eyes. “What did Ross Allan say?” Claudine asked. “He’s going to meet Drew in the mornin.’ They all need to talk. You and I can only speculate.” Billy patted Claudine on the shoulder. “Don’t fret,” he said. “We know Drew isn’t a fool and he’s not the crazy sort who would do this kind o’ thing. I can say with conviction that Drew is not that way. Just take the kids home and we’ll talk in the morning.” Claudine went back out to where Louisa was sitting with the kids. It was clear from their faces they had heard much of what was going on. “C’mon kids. It’s getting so late,” Claudine said with a shaky smile. “We’ll head home and come back tomorrow after school for another visit.” “Is Dad in jail?” Dempsey asked.

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“Well, he is, ah, well, he is at a police station, but he’ll be home tomorrow. Your dad’s done nothin’ bad,” she said. “Now go give Nana and Granddad a hug goodnight.” Her children hugged their grandparents tightly, saying their goodbyes. Claudine followed suit and went out to her car with the kids, Billy accompanying them. “Ross is the best solicitor in the country and he will sort this all out,” Billy said quietly to Claudine as the kids ran off ahead. “Damned unfortunate for Drew, and Toasty, too. If I didn’t know them so well I would be more worried, but I appreciate this is still very serious. Just keep a cool head and we’ll talk tomorrow when we know more. I will take care of Drew’s bail for now.” “Thank you, Dad,” said Claudine, keeping her voice down and fighting the rising feeling of panic in her throat. “It’s all right, Claudine. Ross and I will take care of everything,” Billy said. “What if things get worse?” she whispered frantically. “What happens if Drew gets charged? It’s the police, not some drunken sailor. What if the police build a case to make Drew look guilty? How would we ever pay you back if Drew went to jail?” “Don’t drive yourself crazy thinking about things that haven’t happened. Just stay calm.” Claudine gave her dad another hug and got into her car with the kids. She drove home, assuring her children everything would be fine and deftly shifting the topic to how marvellous Isabella’s performance as the Princess was. It was a long night for Claudine, but she was relieved that her children fell right to sleep. They knew, as well as she did, that Drew was not the type to ambush anyone, especially a policeman. When Claudine got up in the morning, she waited until Isabella and Dempsey were picked up by the school bus before she looked at the morning newspaper or switched on the telly. She was not surprised Drew’s name was everywhere. “Drunk, PHP-Laden Wrestler Pummels Police Officer” was at the front of the sports page of the paper. Claudine tore it up and threw it in the bin.

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On the way to her parents’ house, Claudine tried not to drive too fast or erratically, but it was not easy. She finally shut off the car radio when the announcer started saying, “IWF wrestlers Drew Bellamy allegedly attacked a police officer last night during a drunken steroid rage.” How could people think her husband would do something like this? The only supplement he ever used was protein powder and he hadn’t been charged with as much as a parking violation before! At Bonham farm, Claudine discovered a crowd of reporters and news vans blocking her way. She pulled in past them to the private garage and hurried inside where Lobo, her father’s Croatian mechanic, tentatively handed her the Manchester Mirror. “Here, Mrs Bellamy. I show this you father, but he leave on the kitchen table. Maybe you want to read?” Claudine looked at the headline and instantly wanted to throw the paper in the bin with the eggshells and cold tea bags. The article headline “Fake Fighter Clobbers Bobby For Real” was like a slap in the face. “Uhmm, not right now, Lobo. Please, not right now. Thanks though,” Claudine breathed impatiently. He stood there, still holding it out for her. She knew he didn’t understand the English language very well and probably didn’t comprehend how unfair and absurd the headline read, so she finally took it from him and went upstairs to the office. In the office, Louisa greeted her with a big, sympathic hug. There were more tabloids spread out on the desk, all with their own version of what happened. The Manchester Gazette sports page headline was “Bobby Assaulted by Wrestler in Doncaster;” the Grimsby Herald said “Constable Claims Drugged Wrestler Attacked Him.” “I’m so sorry for you, luv,” Louisa said. Nearby, Billy had the phone to his ear and a stormy expression on his face. Claudine hugged her mum tightly. “Your father is on the phone right now with Ross,” murmured Louisa. “He’s already posted Drew’s bail and is arrangin’ for Drew to be released.” “I can’t believe how absurd these articles are. Can’t we sue ‘em for slander? Drew’s not takin’ drugs!” moaned Claudine. “And do 91

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we know when Drew’s comin’ home? How’s Toasty?” “Toasty has a broken eardrum and ten stitches in his head and face from being hit with something,” said Louisa, her face suddenly fierce. “The police are looking for the gang that jumped him and Drew, but they’re still pressing ahead with charging Drew.” “Is he goin’ to be all right?” Claudine asked. “I think so, but it’s all so unfair. Your dad will let us know what’s goin’ on,” she replied. “Well, the bail’s been posted and Drew’s about to be released. Toasty will bring him home,” said Billy, coming over and putting his arm around Claudine. “He’s all right, but the doctor recommends he rest for a few days. But Toasty says he’s fine and will be at the show up in Leeds tonight. Drew will stay—” “So Drew and Toasty aren’t comin’ home yet? They’re goin’ to finish the week?” Claudine interrupted. “Yah, luv. The show in Leeds is packed out and they’ve got a return tag match with the Tasmanian Devils,” said Billy, looking resigned. “They go back to New Zealand next month and I’m hopin’ to send the lads down there next year to work a program with our International Tag Team Belts. It’d only be for a week, but we have to stay with the plans if we want to keep movin’ forward.” “Yes, I know and that’s fine. I just thought he might be comin’ home,” said Claudine, feeling very frustrated. “But I understand. Are you sure it’s all right for Toasty to work? Shouldn’t he listen to the doctor?” Claudine secretly hoped if Toasty didn’t work, Drew also wouldn’t wrestle and they would both be heading home now. But logically, she knew better than that. Even with injuries and personal problems, wrestling always came first in their family. The show must go on. “There’d be nothing you could do for Drew or Toasty, for that matter, which we’re not already doin’,” said Billy, his brow furrowed. “Drew isn’t hurt, so he can wrestle and Toasty can just be seen at ringside. They’ll figure out summat for the match. And Toasty needs to bring the gate money for the week home and do what I used to do. I’m goin’ to call Newton to see if he can do anythin’. He’s over in

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Huddersfield, not far from Leeds. Closer than we are, anyroad. Might be good to have him drive out there and handle some of the press. I imagine reporters will be rootin’ around, trying to provoke summat out o’ the boys to get more stories.” Billy picked up one the papers sitting on his desk and opened it up to the sensational story about Drew, muttering angrily to himself. Claudine thought she heard something about “that bloody lyin’ bobby” before Billy snatched up the phone, flipped through his address book, and dialled a number. “Newton? Glad I got hold o’ you. Say, could you make a trip out to Leeds for this evenin’s show? Tough break for Drew. You don’t say… well, I’ll let his solicitor know that… all right then… we’ll see you Friday, and our family meeting is still set for Sunday. We’re havin’ a big meal, so we’d love to have you join us for that too. Right. Thanks.” Billy put the phone down and stared at it for a moment, as if hoping it had more to say. Louisa and Claudine looked anxiously at him, wondering what Newton had divulged. “Newton said he heard from one o’ his mates who’s a retired bobby,” said Billy. “He worked with this Constable Barnes. He said Barnes is quite the hot head and is most likely very embarrassed Drew got the better of him. He thinks Barnes will want to protect his ‘ballsy bobby reputation,’ even though he’s not been badly hurt.” Billy snorted contemptuously, clearly thinking that Constable Barnes was not very ballsy at all. “Well, listen to this, Dad,” said Claudine, who was holding a tabloid and shaking it in the air. “This paper, umm, The Daily World says here, and this is a direct quote from Constable Barnes, ‘that I’ve never been handled by someone with such super-human strength.’ He then goes on accusing Drew o’ being drugged up on phencyclidine and then the paper has here is brackets more commonly known as the street drug PCP. Barnes claims a normal human being could never have taken advantage of him unless the attacker was supernaturally induced. And of course, there’s no quote from Drew. It just says Drew was not available for comment. What a load o’ rubbish!” Claudine threw the paper down and stomped on it. 93

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“I’ve already spoken to Ross about that,” said Billy, glaring. “He’s going to be releasin’ a statement in the next few hours. Drew’s already given blood and urine samples and the police are testin’ for drugs. Once the results are out they should dispel all rumours about Drew being on PCP. Bloody ridiculous!” Drew was released on a hefty £25,000 bail. Reporters followed Toasty, Drew, and his lawyer as they exited the jail, snapping photos and hurling harsh accusations. “Drew, can we get a statement? Was this a steroid rage?” “Are you using street drugs? Are you taking steroids?” “Have you any comments on why your bail was set so high?” “Is it true you’ve had your passport held?” The reporters screamed questions, hoping to trigger some sort of response. The pair of wrestlers and their solicitor cut a path through the sea of reporters and cameramen, not uttering a word. *** “Well, let’s get started, shall we?” Billy said. “Louisa and Claudine, this is Newton Haytor.” Louisa and Claudine took in the newcomer. He was a short man with broad shoulders, a thick neck, and an impressive gut. His bald, shiny head, small, quick brown eyes, thin moustache, and large ears made him look like some kind of overgrown fairy tale character. Claudine shook his hand and noticed it was rather moist. “Yes, nice to meet you, Louisa. I’ve spoken with you on the phone many times. What a pleasure to put a face to the voice,” Newton said. “And you, Claudine, I’ve only heard wonderful things.” Toasty, looking battered with bruises and stitches on his head, poured coffee for everyone. Drew sat next to Claudine and gave her a comforting rub on the shoulder. Billy had these Sunday meetings every week, usually with Louisa, Toasty, the road agents, and sometimes Drew. It was a way to gather information about how the week went and what they planned for the future. Today, because of the circumstances, Claudine was there, too. Lobo agreed to keep an eye on the kids during the meeting and 94

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Claudine couldn’t help wishing she was out playing with them instead of worrying about this nightmare situation. “Billy, could I begin the meeting by laying out some of the plans I have for your wrestling company? Hearing me out might put your minds at ease,” said Newton, his eyes darting around the room. “In light of the unfortunate situation with Drew, with his passport being revoked and all, we have to revisit some of the plans I had for tours in Sardinia, Antigua, and Puerto Rico. But we can still run great shows in the meantime, utilizing the big investment Billy made in the airplane.” “Why did you want to book shows in Sardinia? That seems like a dead faraway place to go for a night or two,” said Claudine. “Well,” said Newton, “I looked at the IWF show ratings in foreign places and I was delighted but not surprised, to see the IWF show is one of the highest rated shows over there and in Puerto Rico as well. And Sardinia being so close and all, it seems obvious IWF could do smashin’ business.” “Actually, Newton,” chimed in Toasty, “not to be splittin’ hairs, but it was the television station in Sardinia who approached me dad about runnin’ shows there.” “Yes, well, that’s what I meant,” said Newton, not missing a beat. “Anyway, I have my pilot’s license, so I can transport a whole crew to places like Aberdeen, Dundee, Isle of Man, and Southern England with the company plane. Normally we’d have to drive to those shows, but they’re so far away we don’t get to ‘em more than once a year— this will change that. And I can run the promotional end of things, too.” “And Billy can run two towns a night, one for fly-in wrestlers and one for the usual lorries,” pointed out Drew. “Exactly. For the foreign tours, I’ll see to arranging for work visas and such, instead of Louisa doing it all,” said Newton, nodding his head to the matriarch. “Basically, I’ll make myself indispensable to this company. I’ve been a fan for years. Crikey, I remember watching Billy win the Olympic Gold. There were no decent promoters back then, so Billy took the bull by the horns and started up the IWF. He gave this business integrity and gave us all a decent

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wage, even when he couldn’t really afford it. I want to just give a bit back as thanks.” “You wrestled for us?” said Claudine. Looking at him, she couldn’t help wondering why he had gone into wrestling in the first place—he just didn’t have the build for it. He looked more suited to an office job than to an athletic one. “Indeed,” said Newton, nodding at Billy. “And then they hired me to be the new road agent. I think I’ve done a fair enough job for you, but I really want to do a brilliant job. I know I’m just a brokendown wrestler, but I can still make money in other ways.” He smiled gratefully at Billy and Louisa. Claudine couldn’t help but notice, though, that Newton’s eyes seemed to be independent of his mouth—they darted quickly and unemotionally around even when he was smiling. Billy and Louisa did not seem concerned by this. “Thank you, Newton. You are doin’ a wonderful job,” said Louisa. “When are you plannin’ these resort destinations?” Claudine demanded. She felt anxious, even though everyone else seemed at ease. “Drew’s trial is not going to wrap up overnight.” “I’m just suggesting these other places as possibilities. We won’t plan them until the trial is scheduled. For now, we’ll stick to domestic shows.” “Speaking of domestic shows, how did they go this past week? Were the gates negatively affected by the incident?” Louisa asked. “They weren’t, Mum, and I don’t think that’s goin’ be an issue once the trial gets started,” said Toasty, fiddling with the stitches in his head while he talked. “Even negative publicity can be spun into summat good, especially since Drew is innocent.” “Hey, Newton, are Toasty and I still on for the Comic Relief? That would be a good place to tell our side of the story,” Drew said. “No, I’m afraid they’ve pulled you,” said Newton, frowning. “But not to worry. We’ll get it all back. This is just a hiccup.” The meeting ended on a positive note. Everyone was encouraged by Newton’s forecast of the great things to come for their promotion. Claudine wanted to feel as optimistic as everyone else seemed to, but every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was blaring headlines and sneering faces. 96

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9 A DAY IN COURT “Please state your name and relationship to Drew Bellamy for the court.” Claudine sat paralyzed. It had been a tense few months, but Ross Allan, their solicitor, had been worth every penny. He had even made a few calls to judges he knew and expedited the trial. Instead of waiting a year and a half, they had only had to wait three months. “Me name is Louisa Bonham. I am Drew’s mother-in-law. My daughter Claudine is married to Drew.” Louisa looked poised and dignified in her black pantsuit, her shiny dark hair tied in a neat chignon. Because she was very seldom seen at any public events, her presence seemed to attract a lot of attention. Members of the public pointed and whispered and even the judge seemed to pay special attention. “How well do you know Drew?” asked the solicitor. “I have come to know Drew very well, like a son, since he was eight years old,” said Louisa, smiling fondly at Drew. “He is a man who I trust completely with me daughter, me son, and with our family’s 97

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wrestling promotion as a loyal and valued part of its operation. He is a lovin’ husband, a gentle father, and a good man.” “Have you ever known your son-in-law, Drew, to use illegal drugs?” “I have never seen Drew use drugs or heard about him usin’ them,” said Louisa, her eyes suddenly sharp and cold. “He is the tagteam partner to me son Toasty and I have never known either of them to take drugs, aside from summat a doctor prescribed after surgery. The last surgery Drew had was an appendix removal when he was just a boy. I have never even seen Drew drunk in the whole time I have known him. He is a decent, clean-livin’ man who appreciates his health and respects his body, since he needs it to wrestle. I have never ever known him to be a troublemaker.” Louisa held her head high and looked hard at Constable Barnes, who was seated with the prosecution. He seemed unable to meet her gaze. “Thank you, Mrs Bonham. You may step down,” said Ross. Drew nodded and smiled at his mother-in-law as she walked past the defence table. She glanced over to him and it was apparent in her expression she felt great love and respect for her son-in-law. Returning to the public benches, she took a seat with Claudine and her children a few rows behind Drew. Squeezing in between Isabella and Dempsey, she held both their hands and quietly watched the trial continue. Soon court was adjourned for lunch and the family gathered in the hall to meet with Ross and discuss what would be happening later that day. “I am delighted with how Louisa’s testimony went,” said Ross. He was overweight and his forehead was beaded with sweat. “We will be bringing Drew up to the stand after lunch.” “You don’t need me to say anythin,’ do you?” Claudine asked. She felt faint at the very thought of it. “Only if we have to. I think you might be perceived as being biased, which is why I went with Drew’s mother-in-law,” said Ross, who seemed to sense her nervousness. “Even though it’s sworn testimony, you might be seen as more partial to Drew than your mum.”

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“And it’s fine that we have the kids with us in the courtroom?” Dempsey and Isabella were on their best behaviour, not fooling around or fussing at all. “It’s more than fine,” said Ross, smiling at the kids. “This is your way of showing people, without saying a word, that you know your husband is innocent. If he were some monster, you wouldn’t have his children in the courtroom.” They had sandwiches in the cafeteria, staring out at the grey March weather and waiting for the trial to begin its afternoon session. Claudine tended to the kids while Ross briefed Drew on the task ahead. Toasty, looking sharp in a pinstripe suit and purple shirt, seemed particularly optimistic. The negative publicity hadn’t hurt his popularity, and while Drew kept a low profile, things continued to move forward. In fact, sales in England had been excellent for the past few months, partially because people wanted to see the “super-human” wrestler the Constable had been blabbing on about and partially because it was winter and there was nothing wrestling fans liked to do more than spend a few hours in a warm arena. Toasty had been wonderful, taking a pass on doing any international shows without his partner and loyally refusing any substitutes. “I can’t wait to hear this wanker to try to explain his case to Ross,” Toasty said with a sinister expression on his face. “He’s going to look like an arse in front of the entire country. So much for his tough-guy reputation. I’d be surprised if they don’t kick him off the force after this.” Claudine wished she felt half as confident as Toasty. They all knew the judge could go either way. Drew didn’t knowingly throw the police officer, but in the judge’s eyes, who knew how it looked? When they were back in the court room and Constable Barns took the stand, Ross immediately asked him what happened. Claudine clutched her children’s hands, trying not to squeeze them too hard as she listened. “I was called to the scene,” Constable Barnes said. He looked to be in his fifties and had a full head of salt-and-pepper hair over a fairly handsome face, but Claudine hated him all the same. “I was

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with me partner, Constable Runnels. We were patrollin’ the area and were called to break up a fight in the parkin’ area of Naylor’s Club. When we arrived, Drew was runnin’ backwards into the brick wall, trying to get a lad off him. He clearly saw me, because he was runnin’ backwards, but he never made any attempt to stop rammin’ this bloke, the one on his back, into the wall.” Claudine gritted her teeth, fighting back the urge to protest. “What did you exactly say to Drew? Do you remember?” the solicitor asked. “I yelled to him to stop.” “And Drew understood that your yelling stop was meant specifically for him?” “Well, I assume so.” “How many other people were also there fighting?” “About twenty lads. I saw Drew’s partner with at least three on his back, but he didn’t seem to be in any danger. I believed this lad on Drew’s back was in more immediate danger,” the Constable said. “Were you aware that Toasty Bonham suffered a broken ear drum and received thirteen stitches that evening? And that the lad you are speaking of asked for no medical attention and never filed any complaints?” “Yes, I am aware of that. I believe the lad was too scared to file any complaints.” Constable Barns shifted, looking at his lawyer. The lawyer seemed not to notice. “Oh? I see,” said Ross with a hint of a smile. “Well, at what point was it that you and Drew had a physical altercation?” “Well, he refused to listen to me when I yelled for him to stop,” said the Constable, his nostrils flaring. “He got the lad off his back and was headin’ back to Toasty. I knew he’d be lookin’ for revenge, so I ran after him. When I grabbed him from behind and he threw me, a classic throw over his head. He threw me nearly the length of this room, nearly twenty feet.” “I see,” said Ross curtly. “Why do you suppose he was looking for revenge?” Claudine tried not to smile as she pictured Drew hurling the Constable across the courtroom.

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“Because his partner was being attacked. He was out for blood,” said the Constable. “He posed a threat, a real danger, so I had to stop him. I put me nightstick behind his throat and pulled tight on it, to bring him to his knees, but he threw me through the air. I flew, like I just told you. And anyone not on drugs, not possessing super-human, unnatural strength, could not have done that to anyone, especially someone as big as I am, with me nightstick pulled back into his throat. He went crazy. By this time, another four officers came by to help get this mess under control and it took two of us to handcuff Drew.” As he finished speaking, he leaned back in his chair, looking around the room with a smug look on his face. “You say Drew Bellamy, that man sitting right there, possessed unnatural strength. What do you mean by that?” Ross asked. “He obviously was on PCP or steroids or some other powerful drug, because he threw me from here to there, with ease!” Constable Barnes said, and motioned with his hands the length of about twenty feet. “So the only logical explanation is that Drew had PCP in his system.” “Right.” “Are you aware that Drew submitted urine and blood for drug testing the night of the incident?” “Well, it was probably out of his system by then, who knows?” “Are you aware that PCP is detectable in urine tests for up to seven days?” By this time, the Constable was tugging at the collar of his uniform as though it was too tight. “No. I mean, yes. I mean, maybe it wasn’t PCP, maybe it was a new super drug…” “Are you aware your legal counsel has charged Drew with aggravated battery while under the influence of drugs and/or alcohol, yet he was under the legal alcohol limit and there were no traces of drugs, legal or illegal, in his system the night of the incident?” “Ah, well, erm…” “Thank you, Constable,” said Ross with a satisfied smile. “You are dismissed.”

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Drew’s solicitor provided the results from the urine and drug test that proved Drew’s body was clean of any drugs, even cough medicine. In the end, to no one’s surprise, Constable Barnes’ account of the assault was determined by the Supreme Justice to be exaggerated and flawed. Drew was acquitted by Judge Braithwaite. Outside of the courtroom, the group was greeted by a swarm of reporters. “Drew! We hear you’ve been acquitted? What do you have to say?” Drew looked around and spotted Constable Barnes trying to sneak through the crowd, wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses. “Why don’t you ask Constable Barnes?” he boomed, pointing straight at the unfortunate bobby before making a path through the reporters for his family. Claudine and Drew only had a week or so to celebrate before the big trip to Sardinia. As Newton bustled around getting everything ready, Claudine and Drew tried to sort out their finances. “This doesn’t look good,” Claudine told Drew a few nights after the trial. “Ross was amazing, all right, but the whole bloody ordeal cost an amazing amount, too. I added up the legal fees, he bail, and lost wages, well, at the end of the day, we lost over £110,000.” “Well, Chick, look at it this way,” said Drew. “Maybe we don’t have a ton of money in the bank, but at least your dad’s got the bail money back now the case is over. And, since Ross got the trial expedited, I will probably be able to make that amount back right quick with more international shows. It’s really not so bad.” He ruffled Claudine’s hair and pulled her into his chest. She could hear his heart thumping, slow and deep, within the depths of his muscular torso. “It’s just scary, not havin’ money in the bank,” said Claudine, breathing in Drew’s perennial floral smell and wrapping her arms around him. “It reminds me of when we had nothing.” “Don’t worry, Chick,” said Drew. Claudine could feel his words vibrating through his body. “The money will be back in no time, startin’ with Sardinia.”

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10 BROKEN DREAMS It was a dreary, cold day at Bonham Farm. The kids were at school and Claudine and Billy were enjoying a cup of coffee together in the kitchen, petting the cats that had situated themselves on the empty chairs. They were all happy Toasty and Drew were due back from Sardinia the next day. In Sardinia, the solitary massive outdoor arena had been booked for both nights. Drew had told her on the phone the night before the fire marshals had even come in as a precaution. “The crowds were excited, but things didn’t get out of hand,” he said. “And Newton’s been great, he’s been waddlin’ about checking in on things everywhere. He seems to have a strong handle on what’s goin’ on, so both o’ your parents can relax for a change. Now the question is, how soon could the IWF come back to run more shows here?” Sadie was amusing Billy and Claudine by swatting at a dust bunny when the telephone rang. Billy got up to get it. When he picked it up, the hairs on the back of Claudine’s neck stood up at the unmistakable 103

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sound of her brother screaming profanities. Heart thumping, she got closer so she could hear what he was saying. “I DON’T KNOW WHERE THE BLOODY HELL THE FUCKER IS!” Toasty was bellowing into the phone. “Slow down, slow down, son,” Billy said, though the blood had run out of his face. “Start at the beginning.” “Damnit, Dad,” Toasty yelled. “This is not the time to slow down! We need to alert the police, the Calamari or whatever the hell they are called here! And you’d better call the cops over there too and let them know you’ve been royally fucked!” Eventually, after much coaxing, they finally got Toasty to spit it out. Toasty hadn’t gotten a response when he knocked on Newton’s door that morning, right before they were supposed to leave. He knocked a little louder but still there was no answer. A hotel maid walked by and helpfully informed him that that guest had left during the night and that the room was empty. Toasty had raced to Drew’s room, where Drew had told him to call Billy. “Okay, here’s what you need to do,” Billy said finally. “Go straight to the airport and make sure the plane is still there. Once you’ve figured that out, get back to me and we will decide what to do.” “All right, Dad,” growled Toasty. “But if I run into that fucker, I can’t promise you I won’t football punt his head off.” Claudine and Billy spent the next twenty minutes sitting stiffly at the table. “Newton’s been collectin’ the gate and merchandise cash. They were in his hotel safe,” said Billy quietly after about ten minutes. His face was as pale as the grey sky outside. “I spent over £70,000 on merchandise for these shows. The profits should have been many times that amount.” Claudine felt sick to her stomach. “He had no access to the credit cards payments or electronic funds, but I have no idea how much of the profit was in cash.” After that, all they could hear was the ticking of the clock on the wall, the sighing of the dogs, and the occasional bump of Louisa’s chair upstairs as she did paperwork.

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Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the phone rang again. Billy snatched it up, Claudine at his heels. “Hello?” “THE BLOODY PLANE IS GONE! THAT MOTHERFUCKER TOOK THE PLANE! I’M GOIN’ FIND THAT BASTARD AND I’LL FUCKIN’ DO HIM…” He went on and on like this, but Claudine didn’t need to hear any more to know that they were doomed. “Toasty,” said Billy, his voice angrier than Claudine had ever heard it before. “Shut up. This is what we need to do. Contact the police immediately. I will call them over here, too.” “It’s no use! He’s got a bloody plane and he’s been gone all night, with probably about a quarter of a million pounds in his back pocket! He could be in China by now!” “We at least need to try.” Billy had finally gotten Toasty to promise to call the police and was just about to dial them up himself, when Louisa appeared in the kitchen. One look at his face told her that something was wrong. “Billy, what’s goin’ on?” she asked, her hands already balled into fists at her sides. “You’d better sit down,” said Claudine, guiding her mother to a chair. Billy didn’t move, staring straight ahead at her as he broke the news. “I don’t know how to tell you this, luv, but Newton’s stolen all the money from the shows and he’s stolen the plane. No one knows where he is. Toasty’s got the police lookin’ into it over there, but I can’t tell you it’s going to be all right. We have some money from debit and credit sales, but that robbin’ bastard made off with a load of cash; I don’t know how much. I’m sorry, luv. You don’t deserve this.” Louisa broke down and sobbed. Her body shook as she wept into her hands that covered her face. “Why? How could he do this to us? You don’t deserve this either, Billy! None of us did anythin’ to deserve this hell! Why?” she shrieked. The cats jumped off the chairs and hurried out of the room. Billy and Claudine grabbed her and held her as she cried. 105

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Things went from bad to worse when the police got involved. Authorities found the plane weeks later, abandoned near Argentina. It was badly damaged and looked as though it had been ransacked. Local Argentinian police suspected Newton made a run for it and promised to keep looking for him. When all was said and done, and it was estimated that Newton had made off with over a quarter of a million pounds in cash from the merchandise sales. “The fuckin’ bastard pretty much raped and pillaged the village, I’d say,” said Toasty after he and Drew had rushed back from Manchester Airport and gone straight into the office to talk to Billy and Claudine. “He kept us preoccupied nice and convenient, like, while he fucked off with everything. Why? Dad would have looked after him for the rest o’ his life. The fuckin’ greedy bastard!” “Well, I couldn’t agree with you more, Toasty. I can’t believe he screwed me like that,” said Billy and he kicked the metal rubbish bin in his office into the wall. “If I got hold o’ that bastard, I’d pull his god damned nuts off! But we have to pick up the pieces now…again. We’ve got things rollin’ along well in the past few years and if we’re careful, in a couple of years, we could be back on top again. Your mum and I think it wouldn’t be fair to you or to the promotion if we went ahead with the retirin’ now. It would be like leavin’ you with fuckin’ house that’s on fire.” “Where is Mum?” asked Claudine. Billy made a strange face, part guilt and part exasperation. “She won’t come out of the bedroom,” he said. “Drew, we need to get back to the cottage,” said Claudine finally. “The kids will be finished at school soon.” “Let’s go pick them up,” Drew suggested. His face was heavy with worry, but he tried to smile. “It’ll be good to see them.” At school, the children were delighted when the family sedan pulled up to get them. Claudine could see a few parents and children pointing at Drew and whispering. She tried her best to ignore them. “Daddy!” cried Isabella, throwing herself into her father’s arms. Drew scooped her up and planted a big kiss on her cheek, then did

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the same to Dempsey, who was frantically trying to wriggle out of his grip. “Dad! Not at school,” he protested as Drew laughed and opened the back car door. “So, how was the tour?” asked Dempsey eagerly once they were safely alone in the car. “Did you win, Dad? Did you give anyone a good welly?” “Yah, I did, but one bloke got away before I could catch him,” said Drew. “And he got away with some of the money, kids.” “What happened?” asked Isabella. “A bad guy stole from us,” said Drew frankly. “Stole a bloomin’ load, includin’ the plane. The police are out lookin’ for him now, but there’s no guarantee they’ll find him.” “So,” said Claudine, “things are going to be skinny for a while. We aren’t goin’ to be able to buy nice things or eat out as much as we usually do. But soon Dad and Uncle Toasty and Granddad will fix everything up and things will be back to normal.” “I hope Uncle Toasty and Dad catch that bad man,” muttered Dempsey, making a violent punching motion with his fists in the back seat. “I don’t care if we can’t go out for tea,” piped up Isabella. “I like eatin’ Mum’s steak pies in front of the telly better anyway.” Things were skinny for longer than Claudine had anticipated. Billy had put Newton on the insurance plan, so he couldn’t claim that Newton stole it. The final insurance claim on the totalled aircraft was not nearly enough to cover all the losses from Newton’s theft. And as spring melted into summer, things did not get better. That summer, outside it was “cracking the flags” it was so hot. For a change, the English wrestling fans wanted to grill steaks and roast fresh vegetables out on the green grass, or enjoy a cold pint of ale while they listened to music at outdoor summer soirees. No one rushed out to go to stuffy arenas for wrestling shows when they could see their heroes from their own homes on the IWF television show on Saturday, preferably with a nice breeze coming in through the windows. “Don’t worry,” Billy told Toasty and Drew one day after a disastrous show in Manchester that only drew a couple hundred 107

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people. “We just have to wait until it gets a little cooler. Then the fans will come back, you’ll see.” “I can’t wait until it gets cooler!” said Drew, picking up an empty water bottle and hurling it at the wall of his dressing room. It bounced off the concrete wall and fell pathetically to the floor. “I’ve got a family to feed here. Poor Claudine’s not used to havin’to pinch pennies anymore. It’s dead hard on her.” “Oh, better start makin’ some money again so Princess Claudine can afford her luxuries,” said Toasty with a sneer. He was standing in his designer trainers and fastening his Rolex watch as he spoke. Drew couldn’t help but roll his eyes at him. “Stop it, Toasty. Your Mum isn’t doing so well either,” said Billy, running a hand through his thinning hair. His face was sagged with age and worry. “I want to make this work so she and I can finally do some travelin,’ maybe this fall, eh? I’ve got a plan. We did get a little bit of money from the insurance company and I think we should use it to hire some big-name international wrestlers. If we hire big enough names, the fans won’t be able to stay away.” “Drew and I are big names!” Toasty exclaimed. “If only we could go back abroad and run more shows…” “You know we can’t afford to do another international tour right now! We don’t even have a plane anymore,” snapped Billy. “We have just enough to hire maybe four international wrestlers, I’ve already sussed the numbers. Your Mum thinks I’m off me trolley, but if we can revitalize the business enough in a year, she and I will have enough to retire to some capacity.” But Louisa, as usual, was right. Billy tried tactic after tactic, but the fans just weren’t coming to see the shows like they had been a few months ago. Wrestling, along with many other indoor events, were experiencing a dry spell as parched as the weather and there was nothing anyone could do to change it. At the Bellamy Cottage, the kids were taking the decrease in spending money in stride. They loved to play in the back yard with buckets of cold water to splash at each other, getting Emily the donkey and all of the dogs involved, too. But Claudine, who was reduced to shopping at the discount marts and only buying necessities again, 108

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was suffering from frequent mood swings. Drew told her they would have to return some of their leased cars and when Claudine tried to deal with this, she was informed there were penalties for breaking leases. “But we don’t have the money to pay the lease on the Jaguar, that’s why we’re givin’ it back. How do you expect us to pay such high fees? That’s ridiculous.” Claudine said in exasperation into the phone. She didn’t know how to deal with people being rude to her and she was terrified of being poor again. To make things worse, Claudine noticed with alarm her mother was getting thinner and thinner. She celebrated her 67th birthday in April and it seemed age was finally catching up with her. Her normally ramrod-straight back was curved and she shuffled from room to room looking exhausted and drawn. She spent more and more time locked in the bedroom, lying in bed. “Mum?” said Claudine one day, knocking tentatively at her mother’s bedroom door. It was a scorching Sunday morning in September and another dismal show the night before sent her mother into yet another downward spiral. Betty and Gracie were both wagging their back ends and sitting expectantly at the bedroom door. There was no answer. She tried the door, only to find it locked. “Mum?” Claudine knocked a little louder. “Mum, I need to talk to you. Open the door.” Still no response. Sighing, Claudine went to the basement and got the stepladder, bringing it up two flights of stairs to her mother’s bedroom door. She clambered up it and slipped through the open transom, as she had done many times before when Louisa refused to come out of her bedroom. Inside, it was dark and still. Claudine grabbed the transom’s ledge and dropped quietly to the floor. The skeleton key was still in the lock, so she turned it and opened the door for the dogs. They squeezed past the ladder and ran in, heading straight to Louisa’s bedside. Claudine knew that something was wrong when both dogs started to whine. “Mum?” Claudine cried, rushing to the bed. Louisa was lying there, motionless eyes staring up at the ceiling, hands clutching her 109

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chest. Claudine frantically grabbed her wrist, feeling for a pulse. There was nothing. “MUM!” screamed Claudine. The ground was sliding out from under her. She shook her mum by her shoulders and slapped her face, finally jumping on top of her and doing chest compressions. The dogs started barking frantically, jumping onto the bed as though they wanted to help. Billy and Toasty ran in, drawn by the screams and non-stop barking. Toasty dialled the hospital while Billy took over for Claudine, who was blinded by tears and shaking badly. By the time the paramedics got there, Claudine was hyperventilating on the floor in the hallway outside her mother’s bedroom, hugging Isabella and Dempsey. Drew rubbed her back and tried to comfort them all. Billy sat on his bed with Louisa, holding her cold body close to his chest. “I’m so sorry,” he kept saying, tears slowly rolling down his face. “I’m so, so sorry.”

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PART THREE

11 HEAVYWEIGHTS ONLY One quiet evening late at night, Billy was sitting alone in his TV room when he got a call. “Hello, Billy, it’s Stefan Meyer,” said the caller. “Stefan! Good to hear from you,” said Billy, happy for a respite from his solitude. Stefan was a highly respected German sports photographer—he was known as ‘the’ photographer who could freeze time and capture the story with one shot. Stefan and Billy had worked together in Japan and they had a good friendship, but they were not the type to call each other every day. It was a pleasant surprise for Billy to hear from Stephan, who, despite his fame, was a rather modest man of high intellect and integrity. “How are you getting on?” asked Stefan in his thick German accent.

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“Fine,” Billy lied. Louisa’s death was now nearly two years behind him, yet the fact she died so suddenly and so early still haunted Billy. “Listen, I have some business to discuss with you. Have you heard about the brand new German promotion, Universal Grappling Alliance? They’ve hired me to do their photography and also work as part of their team.” “Of course,” replied Billy. “I’ve known about UGA for a while. I actually tried to get my two on with ‘em—Toasty and Drew are ideal for this kind of fightin’, and you know I used to specialize in it in my younger days.” Billy knew all about the UGA’s huge inaugural Frankfurt tour, which was to be held over the course of four solid weeks. This new organization had the financial backing to put this show together in style. No expense was spared, from proper, effective advertising to prominent sponsors to top contract money for the fighters. The fighters were being booked from all over the world and the UGA was looking for big names with fearsome reputations. “Oh, so you have already contacted us?” asked Stefan, sounding surprised. “I rang up that old Jans Schneider, the promoter for Achtung Wrestlin,’ several months back,” said Billy. “He told me it would be no problem because he was a part of the UGA office, as well as still doin’ his Achtung shows separately. He eventually called me back and told me it was not happening and that I should steer clear of the UGA. Is he involved still?” “Ah,” replied Stefan, “Yes, Jans was initially helping to organize, and he was on the payroll too. But then, he had a huge falling out with one of the partners, Wolfgang Shultz, who’s now UGA’s main man. Wolfgang’s putting immense amounts of his own money into this, so it is important for him that it goes well, yes?” “I don’t think I’ve met Wolfgang,” said Billy, scratching Molly behind the ears. “He is a good guy,” said Jans. “He was specifically asking Jans to contact Drew many times. UGA was wanting Drew very much, but for this first show not Toasty, he is too small at 15 stone. We

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know Toasty is one of the best at this style and he’s a big name— they know that too, but for this first show, he is too small, only super heavyweights, you understand? If all goes well, they will do midheavyweight shows and Drew will be too big for that, but Toasty will be perfect, yes? There will be many next times for them both if this first one goes off well.” “Yes, of course, I understand,” said Billy. “So, what happened with the offer for Drew?” “Ah, yes. The big backers for this are investors from Japan, the Middle East, and America all asked for Drew to be one of the fighters. They were wanting to offer him $100,000 for the four weeks in Frankfurt, which is coming up soon.” Billy’s heart started pounding furiously when he heard that number. Neither Drew nor Toasty had cashed a pay cheque from the IWF in months and the next tour was over in Japan, still three months away. They were trying hard to pull fans in the seats for IWF, but the UK was recovering from a recession and people seemed scared to spend money on tickets. Billy was used to good years and bad years, but ever since Louisa had died, he felt like the wrestling venture was cursed. “I was there when Jans was promising he would contact Drew,” Stephan explained. “He was saying that he was planning things with Drew and Toasty for something of his own, but that was quite a while ago. Then Jans was coming back with this surprising news that Drew wasn’t interested unless the money was better, that Drew wanted 120 grand just for showing up and then being paid for each fight after that. UGA said that was too much.” “Robbin’ bastard, that Jans!” Billy exclaimed. Molly looked up at him reproachfully. “Yes, well, as soon as I was hearing about it, that’s what I was thinking, too,” said Stefan. “When Wolfgang was hiring me for this event, I asked him what was happening with negotiations with Drew Bellamy. He was telling me what they were offering Drew, but Jans said Drew was wanting more money. But I was saying, there is no way Drew was turning this down, and maybe Jans is being an asshole,

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you understand, Billy? I think Stefan was trying to cut himself in for the extra twenty grand, and instead cut Drew right out, and perhaps now Drew has a reputation as greedy.” “I didn’t deal much with Jans in the past couple years, mainly Toasty did,” said Billy. “They were settin’ up shows in Hannover in the winter. Disappointed to find he’s a right thief.” “At least we are catching him in time,” said Stefan. “I was asking Wolfgang to let me talk to you and Drew because there is still time to add him to the show. The tournament starts on June 3 and goes until June 28. Tell him they will be paying him $50,000 in cash for showing up, which he gets at the beginning of the tour. He will get another $50,000 at the end of the tour and a bonus if he makes it to the finals, and a bigger bonus if he wins it all. UGA will be paying the balance in cash on the final night of the tournament after the ceremonies. They want everyone to stick around to the end, same as in Japan, you know. UGA covers hotel and airfare, but rest of expenses are up to each fighter. I will be taking care of him personally when he gets here and making sure he gets great coverage from ringside pictures.” Billy tried hard not to make any noise as he punched the air jubilantly. This was exactly what the IWF needed to come out of its slump. “Appreciate your helpin’ sort this out, Stefan,” he said. “I’ll speak with Drew straight away, see what he thinks and find out how he wants to deal with Jans. Blackballing his promotion might be making the point better than anythin.’ Tell Wolfgang to expect a call from Drew tomorrow and they can make the deal. I’ll ring him now and see that Drew contacts you tonight, Stefan.” “Yes, perfect,” said Stefan. “Drew has my number. God bless you, Billy.” They said goodbye and Billy called Drew to reiterate the news. Drew was over the moon with excitement. “Now, you know Toasty will initially be angry about not being included,” said Billy. “But with any luck he will calm down when he realizes there are future tours in store for him at the UGA if this one goes well.”

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“He will understand I need the money for me family,” said Drew. He immediately got off the phone and called Stefan to accept the offer. “Chick, you’re never going to guess what happened!” Drew said as he rushed into the bedroom afterwards. Claudine was sitting in bed, reading a book of poetry of Louisa’s. “I’ve been offered a $100,000 contract in Germany to be in the Universal Grappling Alliance’s Heavyweight championship!” Claudine jumped up and threw her arms around her husband. “You always come through somehow for the family,” she said, looping her arms around the back of his neck. “When do you and Toasty leave?” “Well, that’s the thing,” said Drew. “It’s a heavyweight championship and Toasty isn’t big enough to compete. But Billy says they are goin’ to be doing shows after this one that will be perfect for Toasty. Claudine looked at Drew, cocking her head to the side. “Toasty will just have to understand, you know? If the tables were turned and he got the call, we’d just have to understand, right? We’d be happy for him if this was his deal.” “Exactly,” said Drew. “And for the future competitions, it sounds like I weigh too much.” “Toasty’s hot headed, we’ve always known that, so we’ll have to be prepared for an explosion from him!” said Claudine with a nervous laugh. “Then he’ll calm down, hopefully.” “He’ll have to understand,” said Drew. “I could make $150,000 for winning, which I plan to do! Your dad is the bible of catch wrestlin’ and he’s taught me well, plus I’ve got me size and me experience. I think it’s goin’ to be great!” Claudine went to bed that night feeling rescued, relieved, and indebted to her family. The last few years had been so trying, but this tour might be all they needed to get back on top, she thought. She fell asleep with her legs wrapped around Drew and the blankets tangled up around their feet and she didn’t dare move. She felt lucky and didn’t want to disturb the beautiful peace and quiet.

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In the morning, Drew went to the farm. He and Billy were on speakerphone with Wolfgang the whole morning. After the contracts were faxed, looked over, signed and re-faxed back and forth between Germany and England, Billy and Drew decided to give Stefan a quick call and thank him. “Yes, yes, congratulations! I’m so happy it worked out!” said Stefan. “Now Drew, I have some news for you. Are you sitting down?” “Erm, yes, I’m sittin’ down,” said Drew. He gave Billy a quizzical look. What more did Stefan have to say? “Drew, I am just finishing on the phone with a man, ah, well, he was saying he is your biological father. He was giving me his name, says it is ah, it’s Karl Beverly, yes. News was on the radio and the internet that you are coming here to fight, so he was hearing that. Then he was phoning the radio station and somehow convincing them to give him my phone number because I know you. At first I’m thinking this man is writing a story on you, but I was assuming wrong. He was saying no one will believe him, but he is Karl Beverly and he is your real father.” Billy glanced at Drew. Drew was staring at the speakerphone, looking very much like a deer in headlights. “He was also telling me, ah, that, well, he does not have long to live, less than a year. He is dying of stomach cancer and there is nothing to save him and he wants to see you before he dies,” said Stefan. “I’m not sure if this is nonsense, good news, bad news, or what it is to you, but I had to tell you for whatever it’s worth.” Drew’s expression had changed. For a brief moment, his face crumpled before he regained his composure. “Perhaps there’s somethin’ in what this stranger is saying,” he said. “I was adopted at birth, but it isn’t a well-known fact. It’s not a big secret, like, but few outside the Bonhams know. Last I heard, me dad was in Germany and his name was Karl Beverly. But I’ve never heard a peep from him until now. I’m dead curious, Stefan, but I’m not sure if this chap’s legit or not.”

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“What should I do?” asked Stefan. “He wants your phone number.” “Don’t give it to him,” said Drew after a pause. “I will meet him when I get there, but before that, I don’t want to hear from him. If he’s a shyster, I don’t want him getting any o’ me time before then. Would you, as a favour to me, set up a meetin’ for him and me when I get to Frankfurt? We can meet at the hotel. If you’d do that for me, Stefan, I’d appreciate it.” “That’s a smart plan,” said Stefan. “I’m happy to help.” “Thanks, Stefan,” said Drew. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go home and tell me wife.” Drew found Claudine behind the cottage, feeding Emily the donkey—the kids were already at school. Claudine felt instantly anxious when she saw the look on her husband’s face. “For God sakes Drew, what’s the matter?!” she asked, fearing that he was going to tell her someone had died. “Claudine, apparently me biological dad is alive. He’s alive in Frankfurt, but he’s dying of cancer,” said Drew placing a hand on Emily’s thick, furry neck. “I want to see him, you know, see if it is really him. If it is, I want to know what happened to him. Stefan’s goin’ to set it up for us to meet when I go to Germany.” Drew shook his big head slowly from side to side, his eyes wide with bewilderment. “I’m not angry or bitter, just taken by complete bloody surprise. If it is really him, seein’ him will give me closure, you know.” “Whoa!” exclaimed Claudine. “Do you really think it’s your dad? How do you know it’s really him and not just some nutter?” “No, I know, Claudine. I agree. I won’t be fooled,” said Drew, looking down at her. “I feel, for some reason, though, there might be somethin’ to this. I was thinkin’ about me dad last night. I hadn’t thought of him in years, really, and then last night, I thought, ‘I wish he could see me now.’” Claudine stood there, holding his big forearm for a moment longer. And then she stood on her tiptoes and hugged him tightly around his big neck. She knew Drew had plenty of emotions running rampant in his head.

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That afternoon, when the kids got home from school, everyone got in the car and headed round to the Bonhams. Dempsey grabbed his amateur wrestling singlet in case he got to go into the ring at the farm—he was fourteen now and already nearly as big and tall as his father. Isabella, always a big wrestling supporter, took the family video camera so she could film his work in the ring. When they got to the farm, Toasty was sitting in the kitchen with his dad, who was attempting to tell him about his call from Stefan. “Do you remember him? The famous photographer. He works with the promoter in Germany, um, what’s his name? You know him, he’s the photographer…” Toasty seemed to be only half-listening. Instead, he was concentrating on tormenting the animals by trying to get one of the cats to ride on the back of one of the dogs. It wasn’t pleasing either animal. Billy just shook his head in dismay and continued to talk about Stefan, in a louder voice. “Toasty, are you listenin’? Stefan called from Germany…” “Uh, what was it you were sayin’? Some German photographer rang you? Are you sure you didn’t dream that, Dad? Your memory isn’t so sharp sometimes.” Isabella interrupted this unfruitful conversation by giving her granddad a big hug. Then Dempsey shook his Billy’s hand before making himself comfortable on one of the aluminum chairs in the kitchen. He threw his wrestling singlet conspicuously over the back of another chair, hoping Toasty and his dad would notice it and ask him to wrestle with them in the ring out in the barn. Claudine gave her father a big hug and started to make a fresh pot of tea for everyone, but not before she took the cat away from Toasty. She and her dad exchanged a look of contempt; Toasty’s habit of tormenting the animals pleased neither of them. “Dad, have you told Toasty the big news?” asked Drew, sitting down at the table. “I wish me dad could take me as a late birthday present!” said Dempsey, whose birthday had been just a few weeks before. “Well, I was startin’ to explain,” said Billy with a sigh, “but he was terribly busy tormentin’ the dog and cat.” 118

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Toasty furrowed his eyebrows and looked at Drew, and then at his father. “The dog and cat love playin’ together like that,” Toasty said snidely. “But what’s this? What tour are Drew and I goin’ on?” Claudine felt her stomach drop—she was not looking forward to seeing her brother’s reaction to the news that he was not included in this big tour. “Dad was ramblin’ on about some German photographer. What’s that got to do with anythin’?” “Toasty, you gotta listen to your dad more,” said Drew. “Knowin’ him and knowin’ you, he’s probably been tryin’ to tell you all day. Anyroad, this is what’s happening.” As the details unfolded, Toasty began to understand his father was not just talking rubbish. A big smile spread across his face. “I’m booked for the whole month, one hundred grand is me guarantee, and it’s in writing now, too. The contract money is a fortune and I can use that to…” “So what Dad’s been telling is true!” Toasty interrupted. When do we go? Is it a hundred grand each or do we split it?” “The UGA’s only needin’ super-heavyweights for this first tour, Toasty, so they’ve just booked Drew,” said Billy, gazing steadily at his son. “What?” Toasty didn’t seem to understand. “Toasty, they only want super heavyweights, anyone over 19 stone,” Claudine explained quickly, “and Drew was one o’ the first fighters they asked for, but Jans on the sly was tryin’ to get money out o’ it for himself too. It just about cost Drew the whole deal. Jans didn’t even contact Drew, but he told the UGA that he had. Meantime, UGA thought Drew was holding out for more money, like Jans said. Drew didn’t know a thing about it until only last night. Yesterday when Stefan found out Drew turned down the offer, he called Dad to find out the truth, and, long story short, Drew leaves in a couple days for a month-long tour in Frankfurt—and Drew has even more news, but he needs to be the one to tell everyone about that, not me!” She said this all very fast, hoping that if Toasty could see the whole picture he wouldn’t be angry.

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“You talk like you know so much, Claudine!” Toasty snapped, glaring at her. “You don’t know anythin’! You’re just a parrot! Well, I’ll tell you what I think about all this!” Toasty stood and glowered at Drew, who stayed sitting and sipping his tea. “Anyone with any integrity wouldn’t do a tour without his partner! We never do tours separately, never! How soon we forget where we came from, eh?” “Toasty, Drew, all of you,” said Billy, fixing Toasty with his piercing gaze, “this deal is too good to turn down and if it goes well, we’re assured there’ll be more for both o’ you. By the Christ, Toasty, listen, they only want super heavyweights. Drew’s nineteen stone, you’re fifteen stone and that is too much of a difference to this wrestlin’ alliance. You can’t say to these people your four stone heavier than you are.” Toasty banged his fist on the table, sending the tea splashing and cups rattling. “You know, Dad, I was actually workin’ on a tour for me and Drew in America and I wasn’t ever plannin’ on leavin’ me partner standing out on the piggin’ motorway with his arse hangin’ out in the wind while I drove by and waved! I always remember me roots, Dad, and you both should have told Stefan straight last night that it’s both of us or neither of us! You think I wouldn’t chuck in money for this promotion to help get it out of the hole? You think Drew’s goin’ to be thinkin’ o’ the IWF before he gets done payin’ off his own load of debt from Claudine and all her greedy needs? At the end of it all, there’ll be nothin’ left!” Drew, at this point, had let Toasty rant on long enough. “Listen, Toasty, you’ll think differently later. Listen to the rest o’ what I need to tell you and Billy,” he said, his deep voice reverberating around the room. “This is something important to me, and I wanted to tell you in person.” Toasty crossed his arms obstinately. “Spit it out, then.” “Stefan told me a bloke in Frankfurt contacted him sayin’ he’s me real dad, me biological one, and he’s dyin’ of stomach cancer,” said Drew. “He wants to see me, and I want to see him, you know, see if he is legit. And if he is, I want to get to know him while I’m over in Frankfurt.”

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Drew got up and faced Toasty, who still had an unpleasant, obstinate look on his face. “Toasty, I am going on this tour because I need the money for me own family, but bloody hell, do you think me and Claudine wouldn’t use some of that money to help everyone? We’ve all been strugglin,’ but I’ve not taken care of things properly in me own household as far as money goes, for months. I’ve got the piggin’ car dealership wantin’ to repossess me car; the granite people who redid the back kitchen and the roofers who redid the slate roof demandin’ money and the taxes need payin’ on the cottage, credit card bills—just so many damn bills! By the Christ, we are knackered if I don’t do this tour! Claudine and I made investments, Toasty! We bought estate properties, flats to rent out to people, and we bloody overspent and nothin’ is coming in now! So don’t call Claudine greedy, ‘cuz she’s not! You know that better than anyone. She’s never asked for anythin’ for all the work she’s done in the office since your mum passed. But you offered her nothin’ anyway!” As Toasty opened his mouth again, Billy waved his hands as if to be clearing a mess on a table. “I don’t want to take money from anyone!” he said. “I am not expectin’ a hand out from either of you, but we need help, all of us, at the moment. Firstly, Drew has a responsibility to his wife and they are both responsible to take the best care they can of Dempsey and Isabella. That is a priority. Everythin’ else here is secondary, including you not being booked on this particular tour, Toasty. Can’t you see that’s how it is and that’s what they are tryin’ to do? You shouldn’t make them feel obligated to do anythin’ otherwise—that‘s peevish thinking, it is!” Toasty poked Drew in the chest, his face twisted up into a snarl. “Our dad is not so well either, in case you hadn’t noticed, Drew! You should take that into consideration when you are jettin’ off to see your ‘real’ dad, who didn’t give a damn about you for your whole life! You know, Drew, if you’re thinkin’ that this German so-called ‘dad’ justifies you goin’ on this tour without me, go ahead then! They could’ve found somethin’ for me to do over there. Once they saw me, they probably would have put me on the show straight away! But never mind, go on, keep it all for yourself! You know where the door is. And Drew, if you think of your new dad as someone you 121

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owe even as much as one minute of your time to, before you think of me dad who took you in when you had nothin,’ then go to hell!” “You’ve been carryin’ on like a spoiled son-of-bitch and I don’t expect you to understand how much I NEED to see me dad before he dies,” shouted Drew into Toasty’s face. “You are too much of a selfish bastard! Now I need to get out of here before I do summat we’d both regret!” Drew turned back to Billy and clapped him on the shoulder. “Sorry about this,” he said. Then he turned on his heel and banged through the heavy oak door. Dempsey and Isabella, who didn’t often see their father lose his cool, were sitting motionless in their chairs. “We all need to go home now,” Claudine said curtly, refusing to look at her brother, who was now glowering in the corner. She hugged her father good-bye and steered the kids out the door. Claudine was boiling inside. Once they got into the car, she started, saying, “Dempsey, Isabella, don’t ever think your dad or I did anythin’ to…” “I want you to know,” Drew interrupted loudly, “that I’m going to Germany not to hurt Granddad, or Toasty, or to be away from any of you. You should already know that. I’m not ever forgettin’ what your Granddad or Nana’s done for me. But right now, I have a chance to go away to Germany to make plenty of money and meet for the first time and maybe the last time see the dad I had when I was born. Just don’t let anyone put any rubbish in your heads about me while I’m away!” “That goes for you, too, Claudine,” said Drew, grabbing her hand in his. “Make sure no bloody reporters get busy spreadin’ lies about how I fell out with me tag partner or walked out on your dad! I would never do that!” “I know,” said Claudine. “I know, luv.”

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12 WE ARE BROKE, TOASTY June 2: “Hallo, Claudine! I met me dad and it went great! I feel bad for him though, he’s pretty poorly…won’t run the call up, but love you and the kids. Love you, Dempsey! Love you, Isabella! Ring you later. Miss you! Love you! T’ra!” June 3: “Hey, Claudine, Dempsey, Bella! Sorry I can’t seem to get reach you when you’re home. Anyway, tonight was the first night of the tournament. I won me match, but I hurt me neck and ankle a bit… actually, they hurt like a hell! I think I’ve got a bulgin’ disc in me neck, and me ankle, if it’s not broken, well, I can’t imagine it feelin’ any worse if it was. But I’m more concerned with me dad. I couldn’t get the money tonight because me dad got ill after the show. They say I’ll have to get it next week. I wanted to let you know that I am goin’ to stay with me dad for tonight, I had to help him get back. I’ll call again tomorrow. T’ra!”

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June 4: “Hey, Claude. Just wanted to letcha know I’ve decided to just stay with me dad while I’m out here so I can spend as much time as possible with him. I’m winnin’ every match in the tournament, but I’ve been hurtin’ more than usual. Dad’s givin’ me somethin’ to help the pain. Oh yah, Chickie, there’s this dead ugly woman that comes by to see him—I think she’s his bird, but he said she’s only his nurse. Her name’s Hagra. I don’t like her and I don’t trust her. I think she’s bad news for me dad, so I want to ask you about bringin’ me dad home with me to Chester. He could live his last few months with us, but we’ll talk about that later, Chick. I only wanted to say hello and let you know I’ll be here with him instead o’ stayin’ at the hotel. Hope everyone’s well and I love you all. Call you later, love you, T’ra.” June 5: “Hey, Chick. Sorry I missed you tonight. You’re probably at your dad’s. I really think we should convince me dad to come to Chester, but I don’t want his girlfriend taggin’ along. Isabella and Dempsey would be fascinated with her, though. She looks like a witch from a storybook. Anyroad, I’m goin’ to look after me dad, then go to bed. He likes to unplug the phone when he’s not usin’ it, so you won’t be able to call me back. I’m knackered. Love you, Claudine. Tell Dempsey and Isabella I love them too. Say hello to your dad. Right, love ya. T’ra.” *** Finally, on June 9th, Claudine was at the cottage when Drew’s call came. “Chick! Finally caught you,” he said when Claudine picked up. “Drew, I miss you so much! Sorry I’ve not been home, I was always out runnin’ errands or at the farm when you called.” “It’s all right,” Drew said. “So how are the kids? I don’t want you to wake them, but I’ll talk to them another night… ta, Dad.” “What?”

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“Oh, I’s talkin’ to me dad. He’s just given me some tablets. I keep hurtin’ me back and me ankle. It’s probably worse than me neck, actually. But me dad’s doin’ way worse than I am, so I can’t really complain. He came to the tournament again today and he was so sick after that I couldn’t wait for the agent to count me money for me. So I just told the agent I’d do it later. He said I have to wait another week now, but he seemed to understand.” Claudine heard him gulp and then sputter, presumably as he took the pills. “Oh. I guess we can manage another week,” said Claudine, trying not to sound concerned. “As long as you know you have it, and as long as you’re all right. Drew, what are these tablets?” “Oh, they’ve got some funny German name. His doctor prescribes them for the pain he has from the cancer.” “Oh, well, I guess that’s all right. Besides that, how’s the tour going? Dempsey is absolutely dyin’ to know if you’ve met Geronimo yet.” “Well, I wish I could get the doctors at the tournament to take a look at me,” Drew admitted. “But if I said I hurt meself, they might take me out of the tournament. They already did that with two blokes and I’m not about to be the third. And I don’t want any of the wrestlers knowin’ I’ve got a susceptible ankle or they’ll target it when I fight next.” After a few more minutes of talking about this and that, Drew was ready to turn in. “Well, I won’t run up this call, Chick. I’ll ring you again in a few days. Give me love to the kids. I love you very much. T’ra.” “T’ra, Drew. Love you too.” During the next week, Drew’s calls became shorter, less informative, and less frequent. Claudine was doing her best to manage, keeping house, caring for the children, and trying to keep the bills paid. She planned her visits to her father’s house during times when she knew Toasty would not be there. With each visit, she grew more worried. Her father seemed to have come down with some kind of prolonged cold and was having frequent coughing fits, which were getting relentless and out of his control.

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When Drew called home one night more than two weeks after his departure, he sounded very different. His words were slurred and strained, and he sounded quite out of his mind, like he was stoned. He didn’t seem to comprehend anymore that he was over in Germany to make money for his family. “Drew, if you could ask the promoter over at UGA for that initial advance they promised you in your contract, and wire some o’ it home, it’d really help with things here,” Claudine said. Bills were continuing to mount, and the creditors had stopped believing Claudine when she told then that she was just waiting for her husband to wire money from Germany. “Erm, what?” said Drew. “You know, so I can feed our kids.” “Kids. Yes. Kids,” said Drew. “And me dad. Gotta help me dad.” “You’re plenty keen on helpin’ your dad,” spat Claudine. “Maybe, when you get ‘round to it, you can give us a hand here, too!” She slammed the phone down in frustration and instantly felt bad. The next night, Drew called her back and apologized. “I know I did summat to upset you last night, but I can’t remember what,” he said, sounding bewildered. “I think I drank too much with me dad before I called you. Me dad gave me the pain tablets, and then I had some drinks… I suppose it wasn’t a good mix.” “Oh?” said Claudine, surprised. Drew had never been a heavy drinker. “Yah, I’m sorry. Won’t happen again, Chick,” he said. “It’s just that me dad’s in so much pain that he likes to drink, and he wants company, I guess.” “You seem to be takin’ plenty of these pain tablets. Are you sure you should be doin’ that?” Claudine asked. “I don’t really have a choice,” said Drew. “Takin’ bumps and fightin’ to these extremes every night like this isn’t helpin’ me get better. I think I’ve got a bit o’ the flu bug too, because I’ve thrown up a few times. I’ve been so pushed and pulled on this tour, I don’t know if I’m comin’ or goin,’ Claudine. As far as me dad goes, I think he should be livin’ better than this. If I can get him rested well enough to come home with me, he can at least see you and the kids with his 126

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own eyes before he’s gone. He’s dyin,’ literally before me eyes. I see it and he must see it too.” “That’s too bad,” said Claudine. “Of course he’d be welcome here. I’m sure the kids would love to meet him.” “He just needs to get away from his rancid nurse!” said Drew as though he hadn’t heard her. “Just the piggin’ sight of her must be killin’ him faster than the cancer is. I told me dad to tell her to hit the bricks, but he actually defends her and says she takes care of givin’ him his medicine. I’m not lettin’ him die here alone with her.” “Just lettin’ him know you are there for him, that’s probably the best thing you can do,” said Claudine. “But you need to be here for us, too! I’m telling you we’re really in trouble here and I don’t want to burden you with everythin,’ but me own dad is not doin’ so well either. He’s havin’ trouble breathin,’ like he’s got a lot of thick congestion deep in his chest. He might have pneumonia.” “Oh, Billy? I’m really sorry to hear that,” said Drew, sounding worried. “Don’t worry, I’ll be home soon, the tour’s already over half over. Oh, I want to tell you that I finally got me first payoff, all in cash like Stefan promised. It’s plenty of money, but it doesn’t look like it when it’s all sleepin’ in this big thick grey envelope. It’s got me name on it; it says “DREW BELLAMY, UGA FIRST PAY” on the front. I’m goin’ get another one just like it at the end o’ the tournament, plus a lot more if I win.” “That’s great,” said Claudine. “Do you think you could—” “When I get back, I’m going straight into your dad’s kitchen, and I’m goin’ to throw it down on the table like I’m throwin’ down a winnin’ hand in poker,” said Drew enthusiastically. “I can’t wait to see Toasty’s face when we open it up!” Claudine laughed despite herself. “That money is going to get everythin’ all sorted,” Drew continued. “It’s just money that is givin’ us problems, not like me dad’s cancer. No amount of money in the world will make him right. Yah, we’ve got our health, Chick, knock on wood. And your dad will be fine, you’ll see. He’s strong as an ox! Things’ll be right as rain again, Chick!” “I sure hope so,” said Claudine. “I wonder if—”

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“Oh, me dad’s comin’ in now, so I best wrap this up. He wants me to lend him money, but aside from a few quid to keep him happy, I’m sendin’ this whole envelope’s worth to you tomorrow mornin.’ Consider it done, it should show up in our account in a few days. I better go now. Give me love to the kids. Love you! T’ra.” “Oh, thanks, Drew and I love you, too. T’ra.” She put the phone down, feeling a little better. For some reason, though, the idea of Drew’s dad was beginning to bother her. Why was he asking Drew for money? Another week passed Claudine grew more worried with each day. Nothing had showed up in her bank account, despite Drew’s promise and she knew she couldn’t call Karl since he kept his phone unplugged. Finally, during the third week of the tour, Drew called Claudine again. “Did you get the money?” he asked. “No! I haven’t gotten ten pence of it. You sent it?” Claudine felt frantic. “Yea, we all went to the bank and sent it last week. The 16th, I think. It was me day off.” “Erm, I can check with the bank again,” said Claudine, “But I’ve not heard anythin,” and things are gettin’ bad here. And if it’s been a week, it definitely should have gone through by now.” “Things aren’t great here either,” sighed Drew. “This tour is over for me unless I make it into the semi-finals. Me last match in this round is tomorrow. If I don’t, then I won’t get to fight Geronimo and I’ll be officially done for the fightin’ portion of the tour. But I gotta stay here till the end of it anyroad, for the closin’ ceremonies. It’s in me contract.” “I understand, Drew. I know you’re hurt. Just do your best,” said Claudine. “If it’s all right, I’m goin’ to stay here a couple days longer after the shows are done so I can get me dad sorted,” said Drew. “I want him to fly home with me. He says he’s too poorly right now to be plannin’ a trip, but I’m thinkin’ a few extra days with him I can motivate him to come back with me.”

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Claudine bit her lip in frustration. “I don’t mind you staying a bit longer— I just wish I knew when I’ll see you again.” That night, when Claudine visited the farm with the kids, Billy was lying in bed wheezing. “Dad, you’re on fire!” said Claudine when she felt his forehead. “Where’s Toasty?” “He just drove up, but he went straight to the barn. I think he doesn’t want to see us,” said Dempsey. “I’ll run and get him anyway.” “You might want to let us take you to the hospital, Dad. You don’t look or sound like your regular healthy self, you know?” said Claudine, sitting at the edge of the bed. Billy started to say something, but only coughing came out. “Oh, maybe we should get a doctor up here to take a look at me. I don’t feel me best these days,” said Billy once he caught his breath. His voice was wheezy and strained. “Or perhaps I should go to the hospital?” “Well, let’s see what Toasty says. He’ll be here soon, so let’s ask him, eh, Dad? Not to worry, though. We’ll get you on the mend, I promise,” Claudine said, trying not to sound overly worried. Toasty walked in a few minutes later, sweating and wearing a surly expression. It changed to one of concern when he saw Billy. He fully agreed with Claudine and they sent for an ambulance. Billy was taken to directly to the emergency ward at Manchester Hospital. The medics told Toasty it was a good thing Billy came in when he did because he was very ill. In fact, he had been struggling with pneumonia for probably a fortnight, but no one knew. He had been coughing for so many weeks already that it seemed like the new normal to them. Claudine was terrified by this turn of events. Her mother’s death was still a fresh wound, and now she was starting to fear for her father’s life as well. More than ever, she needed to talk to Drew. She wished she could call him. Billy was recovering well in the hospital, but was still in urgent care, when Drew phoned home again. “I’m out o’ the tournament! I fucked me back up tonight in the match, belly-to-belly suplexin’ some tub of shit,” he growled. “It’s 129

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really knackered. I felt something in me low back explode when I was tryin’ to hoist him up. That bastard and the referee didn’t speak much English, so they didn’t understand when I told ‘em me back was done. He still sat his fat arse down right where me back blew out! I could barely tap out!” “Drew! Have you gone to the hospital?” “Well no, not yet. Let me see how I am in the mornin.’ I’m going to take a couple of tablets, and I’ll see someone tomorrow when me dad goes to the infirmary for his treatments. I’m right pissed off though, you know? It cost me the win. I won’t be in the final round now. The first night here, I thought for certain I could have won the whole bloody thing, along with the bonus money! I was gettin’ knocked about and all, which is nothin’ new, but I never thought I’d do me back in. I’m not sure what the hell happened, I just kept gettin’ more injured and up and by some of the blokes Toasty and I beat easy over in Japan!” “I’m sorry about your back and the tournament. Probably better you’re done so you can rest now. But before you hang up in such a hurry, I need to tell you me dad’s in the hospital now with pneumonia.” “No! Is he going to be okay?” “He’s very ill. It’s scary for all of us here, and with not having you around even to talk to on the telephone, well, it’s making it so much worse to deal with. And speakin’ of dealin’ with things, I’ve triplechecked with the bank and they insist that no money has been sent. Have you checked on your end?” “Yah, I mean, we went to the bank together, I was there. I wasn’t feeling so good that day, I think I had a bad reaction to the painkillers or something, but me dad and Hagra were both there when I sent it off.” Claudine took a deep breath. It was time to speak her mind. “Hagra? Are you certain she didn’t pinch it? I’ve a feelin’ there’s something wrong on your end. Check again with the bank where you sent it off, please, for me. We need that money so much. And you really need to come home as soon as the tournament is over and get yourself looked at properly! Try not to think so much about leaving

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your dad, who I’m sure’ll be fine if you don’t stay a few extra days to wipe his mouth. You still have things to take care here, you know? You’re being rather irresponsible. I kind of feel like you’ve put the kids and me in the background and it hurts our feelings, like you don’t care about us! We’re worried about you because you’re being so damned odd!” Dempsey walked over and reached for the phone, wanting to stop his mum from yelling at his dad. “Anyway, Drew, remember our son Dempsey? Well, he wants to have a quick word with you, and then if you’ve got the time, our daughter Isabella wants to say hello, too,” spat Claudine. “Hopefully that is all right with you and your dad!” She was about to pass the phone to Dempsey when Drew lashed back at her. “I’m fuckin’ irresponsible, eh? I’m over here, literally breakin’ me bloody back to make money so I can take care of all you! In case you haven’t noticed, Claudine, I never let you or the kids want for too much, even when we’ve been hurtin’ for money. Do you think I like being way the fuck over here? No one understands me accent and I’m getting pummelled every night! I’ve got two teeth loose from some jackoff who kicked me in the face as hard as he could, me back is bad, me ankle’s shot, but I’m irresponsible, eh? Do you think I’m over here for me health? Bloody hell, Claudine, I can barely breathe right now, I hurt that bloody much, so how the hell can I fly home jammed in some little airplane seat? And don’t tell me what I can do with me dad. You’ve not even met him!” Claudine turned away from Dempsey for a moment so he couldn’t see her face. She heard Drew breathing hard on the other end of the line. “I’m sorry for bein’ so pissed off right now, but I feel like I could die,” he said finally. “No word of a lie! I’ve never felt this awful and banged up in me whole life. Now, put the kids on!” Claudine turned and handed the phone to their son. Was this man really her husband? She couldn’t remember him ever yelling at her before.

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“Hallo, Dad! So you didn’t win your match tonight? Are you going to wrestle here when you get back?” Dempsey asked with genuine interest. He was all business when it came to wrestling. Claudine walked calmly to the bathroom and shut the door. She splashed cold water on her face and started at herself in the mirror. Her dirty blonde hair hung heavy around her face, which was flushed with anger. Her bright blue eyes shone with tears. She blinked them away, took a few deep breaths, and walked back out into the living room.” “When are you coming home, Dad? I want you and me to go visit Granddad in the hospital, so come home straight away or I’ll cut your nose off with a bread knife!” Isabella was saying. “T’ra, Dad.” And she put the phone down. “Oh rats! I wanted to talk to Dad again,” said Claudine. She felt bad about leaving things on an angry note. For the next couple of days, there was a deafening silence. There was no call from Drew at all. Claudine tried to keep her thoughts from snowballing out of control. She told herself over and over that she was just getting too carried away with thinking bad things about Karl Beverly. She tried Karl’s number a few times, but as usual, it just rang and rang, with no one ever picking up. After yet another unsuccessful call, Claudine and the kids stepped out to get a few things done in town. She scraped together enough money from the family’s ‘emergency account’ to buy groceries and run some errands. The kids wanted to see their granddad at the hospital, but when they got there he was sound asleep, breathing with the help of an oxygen machine. However, his breathing sounded much better and the colour had returned to his face. The nurse said she thought he could be home again in a few days. When they got home, Claudine saw the answering machine blinking. “Hey Claudine, it’s me,” said Drew’s voice. “I’m sorry about all of that the other day. Give Dempsey and Isabella a kiss from me, will you? I miss you all so much…Anyway, it’s not good over here. I’m thinkin’ I’m goin’ have to stay here a few days longer, because I’m

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not leavin’ without me dad, and he’s not ready to leave just yet. But I’ll speak to you about it later. Don’t worry, though. Love you. T’ra.” “Hey, it’s me again. God I miss you and I need to talk to you. I can’t believe I keep missin’ you on the phone. Everythin’ is totally messed up here. I can’t explain it, but anyway, it’s nothin’ you did, so don’t feel bad about that phone call. It’s all me own fault and I don’t know what to do. I’ll ring you back later. Love you. T’ra.” Claudine tried to call him back, but as usual, no one answered. The next day Billy called Claudine to say he had been released from the hospital. Claudine and the kids rushed over to see him and found him sitting in his office, reading his mail at his big Louis XIV desk. Figaro was sitting on top of the letters, and Billy was carefully pulling envelopes out from under the cat as though he was playing a game of pick-up-sticks. Dempsey and Isabella gave Billy big hugs while Claudine looked carefully at him. He looked very comfortable and remarkably wellrested. “Well, thanks for coming by to see me. Isabella, Dempsey, you all right? You heard from your dad?” Billy asked. “Mum’s not been able to reach him past couple days,” Isabella said. Billy looked at Claudine, waiting for her to say what Isabella wasn’t saying. “Dad, something’s wrong with Drew,” Claudine started, sitting in Louisa’s old office chair. She launched into a full explanation of Drew’s back injury and how this whole German tour seemed to be amiss. Claudine told her dad about the abbreviated and disjointed phone conversations and the escalating injuries. The more she spoke, the more Billy’s face darkened with worry. “Have you ever spoken to Karl?” asked Billy when the avalanche of words had slowed. “No,” admitted Claudine. “Well, I think I need to make a phone call,” said Billy. “I feel well enough. I’ve not heard anythin’ from Stefan about Drew or the tour, and bein’ in the hospital kept me from the phone.”

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Billy dialled up Stefan on speakerphone. Claudine, Dempsey, and Isabella sat quietly and listened. “Hello, Stefan,” said Billy when his friend picked up. “How are things over there?” “Billy! Good to hear from you,” said Stefan. “Too bad Drew got eliminated, I wanted to see him fight with Geronimo. He did well, but he was seeming off for the last few nights. But he was working hard. I’ll thank him tonight when I see him. It’s the last night.” “Listen, I haven’t heard from Drew and I was hopin’ you could fill me in,” said Billy, his voice quiet but direct. “Claudine has told me some things that sound worrisome, but I would like to hear your version before I draw any conclusions.” “No problem,” said Stefan. “I saw when Drew was hurting his back in his last fight, pretty bad from what I what I was seeing when he left the ring. So after the match, I was going to see him in his dressing room. I couldn’t believe he was out so soon, to tell you the truth.” “Did he seem okay?” asked Billy. “The day of his last fight he looked bad,” replied Stefan. “He was sweating a lot, you know, he was tense, like he had something bothering him, yes? But he said he was fine and he was just needing to rest. I wasn’t thinking too much more about it, Billy, and I was leaving him and his dad alone in his dressing room.” “His dad was there?” “His father didn’t leave Drew alone at all. I guess he actually was proving to Drew somehow that he’s his legitimate father, or Drew would have been telling him to fuck off long ago, yes? They were seeming to get on fine, I was thinking it was good of Drew to look after his old man.” “How bad is his back, do you think, Stefan?” “I really don’t know, pretty bad though, I think,” said Stefan. “Maybe other problems too, yes? I will make a point of talking to him tomorrow at the closing ceremonies, Billy, and then I’ll let you know,” promised Stefan as he said goodbye. Claudine, Billy, and the kids were sitting around talking about what Stefan said when Toasty walked into the office. 134

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“Our Drew’s out of the tournament,” said Claudine as if they hadn’t ever had crossed swords about the Germany tour. “We just called Stefan. He thinks Drew really messed up his back. And Drew’s been very weird with me on the phone too, nearly the whole time he’s been over there. I don’t want you to think I’m bothering Dad the second he’s out of the hospital, but I am very worried.” She looked at Toasty nervously, afraid that he would accuse her of trying to make Billy worse. Instead, Toasty drew up a chair and sat down. “Well, I made a call too,” he said, “to another wrestler who was in the tournament. He said Drew’s last match was pretty bad. Like, Drew’s work wasn’t very impressive and the bloke he fought was the bloody shits too— heavy, clumsy, stiff, you know? Anyroad, me friend told me he thinks Drew got hurt early on in the tour and then he really messed his back up bad in his last match. He couldn’t tell me how bad any of it was because Drew disappeared right after his last fight. He’ll be there for the closin’ ceremonies tomorrow night though, ‘cuz he’ll need to get paid. “ Claudine was starting to feel like the walls were closing in on her. “Drew also told me he was goin’ to stay there a few more days to look after his dad,” she said a little too fast. “I wasn’t too keen on that, but he put the phone down on me before I could say much. Then he left me some messages that made it sound like he was in trouble!” Toasty looked angry now. “The idea of Drew stayin’ there for a few more days is shite!” he said. “He should come home whether his back is fucking great or fuckin’ shot. The tour is done! And nothin’ is goin’ to keep his dad alive, I’d tell him he should get his bloody head out of his ass, but he’d say I was bein’ tight with him because of our last argument.” Toasty sat up at pointed his thumb at his chest, sticking his nose in the air. “I told all of you that Drew shouldn’t go to Germany, only none of you would listen!” “Stop it!” shouted Claudine. The last thing she needed was Toasty carrying on as though he was the most insightful man alive. “I’ve been too scared to come ‘round here, to me own dad’s house, to get advice about what to do because you’re such a bully! Drew didn’t 135

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go to Germany to spite you and if you had any responsibilities aside from yourself, you might know what the kids and I are goin’ through.” Claudine was getting so frustrated that there could have been another meaningless argument between brother and sister if Isabella hadn’t interrupted. “Why don’t you go over to Germany now, Mum, and see what’s goin’ on over there? You could bring Dad home, you know?” she said. “Yeah, that idea’s brilliant, Isabella,” said Dempsey, following his sister’s lead. “You should do that straightaway, Mum.” So, with the encouragement of her entire family, Claudine bought a plane ticket with the last of the emergency money, set to arrive the morning after the tournament ended. She kissed her father and children goodbye at the Bonham house. To her surprise, Toasty offered to drive her to the airport. “Toasty, I have a favour to ask,” said Claudine as they said their goodbyes. “Please don’t speak badly of me and Drew in front of my children. I don’t want them to think poorly of us.” “Sure,” said Toasty. “Let me ask you for a favour too. Don’t piss around over there. Just bring him and yourself home in good knick, aye? Drew’s one of us, always has been. Whatever happens over there is going to affect Dad’s health. He really needs to hear some good news. We all do, you know?” Toasty handed Claudine her carry-on bag. “For the record, Claudine, I’d go with you—I want to go with you because I’ve got a dead bad feelin’ in me stomach about Drew right now,” he said in a low voice. “I don’t know why, but I think he’s in terrible bloody trouble. I can’t leave Dad though and we’ve no one to look after the office or your kids.” Toasty put one hand on each of Claudine’s shoulders and looked her dead in the face. His expression was determined and hard. “So, it’s up to you. I don’t want to seem like a prick telling you this, but don’t be too useless or timid over there, eh? Do what you need to do and don’t let anyone give you the run-around. Promise you and Drew will come back safe.”

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“I promise,” said Claudine as Toasty let go. He reached into his pocket and handed her a wad of German marks. “Had them left over from me last tour there,” he said with a wink. He walked back to his car as Claudine turned and entered the airport. Toasty was right—it was up to her now.

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13 KARL BEVERLY Drew first met his father in the café of the luxury hotel where all the fighters were staying. When he saw Karl Beverly, he was shocked to see how awful and sick this man looked. He carefully studied the leathery face and bent, thin body, the visible parts of which were covered in old, faded tattoos that were a blurry mess on his sagging skin. His face was pockmarked and rather puffy, and his head was bald and dull as a rock. When he smiled, Drew saw that Karl had a gold front tooth and was missing several others. “Drew! Nice to see you after all these years,” said Karl in a high, thin voice, holding out a liver-spotted hand. Drew shook it, wondering how this man could possibly be his father. The pair of them sat down and ordered coffees. Karl slipped a manila folder onto the corner of the table. Drew couldn’t help but wonder what was in it, but he didn’t want to ask. “Well let’s cut to the chase here, sir,” said Drew, searching the old man’s face. “If you’re really me dad, I need to see some proof before we go any further. Tell me what you can about yourself that proves you’re me biological dad. Fair enough?” 139

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The old man nodded his head and watched as the waitress filled his cup with hot, black coffee. Drew was pouring plenty of sugar and cream into his own cup, waiting for Karl to speak. “I am your father, Drew,” wheezed the old man finally. “You were born prematurely. It was sudden. Pretty little Sylvia Elizabeth gave birth to you in a flat, not in a hospital. No one knew she was in such bad shape, especially when you were born, or we might have been able to save her. “As you know, my younger brother Thomas Bellamy and his wife Tracy adopted you as a favour to me when you were born, after Sylvia passed on. Your dad was my only living relative when you were born. It broke my heart to give you up, but I couldn’t offer you a damn thing,” said the old man, shaking his head sadly. “I only had Sylvia, and when she died, I had nothing. Tommy and his Tracy wanted a child of their own, but couldn’t have one themselves. When you came along, well, it seemed like the best thing for everyone. I can see they did well with you, too. Just look at you!” Karl gestured grandly at Drew, cracking a smile and revealing his decaying teeth. “Now about my brother — his mother and father were Tommy’s real parents, not mine,” Karl continued. “They adopted me in England, thinking they couldn’t have children. So when Tommy was born, they started to treat me different and I felt like I didn’t belong. We moved to Frankfurt for our father’s job. Then our father and mother died in a car accident and I was left to raise Tommy on my own. We had to wait until Tommy turned eighteen before our parents’ will was read for some nonsense reason and that’s when I heard Tommy inherited their old estate back in England and all the land. Everything, every single crumb, they left to him.” Karl leaned in and peered up at Drew through his non-existent eyebrows. “You know what I got from them? A dodo-bird egg. A big fat zero. Nothing. When I heard that, I told Tommy the big family secret, which was that I was adopted—he didn’t know. I decided then and there to change my name and disappear and Tommy went back to England to look after the estate and married Tracy. When Tommy and Tracy died, they left everything they had, including the family estate, to you, their adopted son.” An ugly look flashed across 140

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Karl’s face, but he amended it into a sort of resigned smile. “So it has almost come back to me, since my son got what his dad should have got in the beginning. But I mean that in a good way, son, and I’m grateful you’ve been looked after so well. God bless them!” Karl fell into a fit of coughing. Drew stared at the decrepit old man with a feeling of wonder. There was no way an imposter could know all of this, he thought. Karl seemed to sense a change in Drew and he seemed keen to continue his tale. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, took a sip of coffee, and started up again. “So, some time passed by and they came back to Germany to see me. I introduced them to my girl, Sylvia Elizabeth, who I’d been with a short time. She was so young, I was old enough to be her father, I reckon! We were a pair of outcasts and she seemed to be sick a lot, too. Then one day she tells me we are going to have a baby and it seemed like after only a few days we did! The little thing kept it a secret from me all that time. Don’t know why she didn’t want me to know.” Karl stood and leaned across the table so his face was inches from Drew’s. “And my God, look at you, son,” Karl breathed. The smell of coffee, cigarettes, and rot was nauseating. “You are the spittin’ image of your mother. Same colour hazel eyes, same dark curly hair, same high cheeks and even same ear lobes. Spittin’ image indeed!” Karl sat back down, to Drew’s intense relief. “I heard your mum Tracy telling my Sylvia that she’d be better off without me,” he said. “Maybe she was right. Anyway, I let Tom and Tracy adopt you after your mum died and I never even tried to speak to them after that. I thought it was better that way and I didn’t think Tracy wanted me coming around the estate, ever. I admit, though, I was a coward, and bitter, son. I’m not proud of it.” Karl reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. Out of that came a faded photograph. “But look, here is a picture of your mother. She was beautiful! Just take a look at her, she’s sitting next to me and there’s your dad Tom and your mum Tracy. You were still in Sylvia’s tummy there.”

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Drew looked at the worn picture. Uncle Tommy and Aunty Tracy were there, next to a slight teenager with dark, curly hair. Faded picture or not, it was the only photo he ever saw of his parents together with his biological mum. “Do you have anything else to tell me or show me?” asked Drew, holding out the picture. “Keep it,” said Karl, now reaching for the manila envelope. “Thank you,” said Drew, looking at it a second longer before slipping it into his wallet. “Here we are,” said Karl, handing the whole envelope to Drew. “Here is your birth certificate, your mother’s death certificate and her parents’ certificates, our marriage certificate, and your adoption papers. Take a look.” Drew flipped the envelope open, his heart beating unusually fast. The first thing he drew out was his mother’s death certificate. It listed her full name as Sylvia Elizabeth Beverly. Her date of death was the day of Drew’s birth, place of death was Frankfurt. She was fourteen years old when she died. He saw the death certificates for her parents, who were both dead long before Sylvia passed away, before Drew was born, before she ever met Karl. Sylvia’s birth certificate was next. On it, her full name was Sylvia Elizabeth Seghers. Her place of birth was Mainz, Germany. Sylvia’s mother’s name was Hannah Patricia Eisler, born in Strasbourg, France, and her father’s name was Paul Ambrose Seghers, born in Heidelberg, Germany. Karl’s only birth evidence was his name change document, which showed that he had changed his name from Bellamy to Beverly before Drew was born. It stated his birthplace was Blackpool, United Kingdom. Drew read over each piece of evidence carefully and he examined his own original birth certificate, which he was seeing for the very first time in his life. “I see here it reads me father is Karl Beverly and me mother is Sylvia Beverly,” said Drew. “I see it all here written out before my eyes, but I thought it would feel more remarkable than this. Sorry to not be jumping up and down, but it is kind of a sad story. I didn’t 142

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know anything much about me mum at all, really. And I don’t know much about you, either. Can you tell me some stories about you and me mum?” The two stayed at the café for hours, and it wasn’t long before Drew wanted to spend more and more time with Karl Beverly. Before their talk was over, he presented Karl with a ticket to the opening of the UGA competition the following night. At the competition opening, Drew fought extra hard in hopes of impressing his dad. His opponent was a huge Samoan fighter who attempted an Achilles lock on Drew, but after the brutal and long match, Drew finally got the best of him. While doing several gutwrenching suplexes that led him to winning the match, however, Drew felt an ominous pop and experienced a sharp pain in his back and ankle. He gritted his teeth and raised his arms for the screaming fans anyway, hoping it was nothing. After the show, Drew saw Karl trying to get past a security guard, who seemed to be giving him a hard time. Karl looked even worse than he had the previous day. His face was tinged yellow and he kept lunging forward, clutching his stomach as though he was about to be sick. Drew, who was in a lot of pain now, stepped in. “It’s okay, this is me dad. It’s all right for him to be back here,” said Drew to the security guard, putting his arm around his father’s shoulder. “You must get him a pass for next time then. No one allowed back here without a pass. Even you!” the security officer said in a dry voice. “I don’t need a fuckin’ pass,” said Drew, very annoyed. He felt about ready to throttle the security guard when Stefan came around the corner. “Is everything all right, Drew?” Stefan asked. “This fuckin’ itchy security guard seems to think I need a pass, and me dad too,” said Drew, his face contorted with pain. “I fuckin’ refuse to wear a pass. If they don’t know that I’m wrestlin,’ they should get their heads out of the fuckin’ clouds and figure it out. But have you got a pass for me dad, maybe?”

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“Oh, so this is Karl. I spoke with you on the phone,” said Stefan, holding out a hand. “I am Stefan, nice to meet you.” “Yes, I’m Karl. Good meeting you,” said Karl, shaking Stefan’s hand briefly. “Good tournament so far. I think Drew will win. He’s quite a fighter!” “Well, I think so, too. Drew is one of the best, you’re right. I have to go, but here, take this and wear it around your neck at the shows.” Karl took the badge from Stefan, but at the same time his eyes bulged and he clapped a hand over his mouth. “Toilet,” he managed to sputter before shuffling quickly away. “Poor man. He seems to be feeling quite bad,” said Stefan. “Get him home and see you tomorrow.” “Hey, thanks mate. T’ra.” said Drew as Stefan walked away. “Drew, there you are,” said a voice. Drew turned. It was the promoter’s agent, Wilson, along with a bodyguard. Deftly, Wilson put a combination into his aluminum Haliburton suitcase, unlocking it and drawing out a thick grey envelope. Drew saw that the envelope had DREW BELLAMY, UGA FIRST PAY printed on the front in bold blue letters. “Here’s your first payment,” said Wilson, showing Drew the packet of money. “Wolfgang likes us to count it out with each wrestler before we sign off on it. I’ve got about ten guys ahead of you, but if you can wait about an hour I’ll give it to you then.” “I have to get back to me dad, he’s not so well,” said Drew. He glanced around for his father, his neck and back throbbing. “I’ll do it with you tomorrow.” “Well, we can do it another night, not tomorrow though,” said Wilson, looking at his watch. “Wolfgang hires a bodyguard for these transactions. The next one scheduled is for next week.” “Tell you what, Wilson. I really need to get goin’ and I don’t think I can wait an hour. You can’t count it real quick with me now?” Drew asked. “No, I apologize, but I have too many ahead of you that want get going too,” said Wilson, slipping the envelope back into the case. “Everyone was asking me the same thing, if I can count theirs first. I 144

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must go in order of who asked first. We will do next week, next Saturday, yes?” “Yah, yah. I’m not waitin’ around for an hour. Can you just give it me, and I’ll count it on me own?” Drew said, thinking of Claudine. “C’mon, Drew. You know better than that,” said Wilson. “Show up on time next week and I will count you your money first, after the show next Saturday.” Soon enough, Drew found Karl and got outside to hail a cab. Karl directed the cab driver to his building off a side road in Taunusstrasse, taking turns between calling out directions and retching into a plastic bag. The poor cabbie seemed delighted to get rid of the two of them. Drew looked suspiciously at the derelict building as Karl handed him the key and clutched his muscular arm. Inside, Drew was disgusted by the seedy little apartment. It smelled of chemicals and cigarettes and looked as though it had not been cleaned in fifty years. Clearing a stained armchair of old tissues and bits of rubbish, Drew sat down to call Claudine while his father rushed off to the bathroom. The phone was unplugged, and Drew had to fish around on the filthy floor and plug it in before he could even use it. He heard retching as he dialled the number. Claudine was not home when he phoned, so he left a message. He thought about calling Bonham farm, but the thought of Toasty’s angry face drove that idea from his mind. “How are you feeling?” Drew called to Karl. “A little better,” said Karl, shuffling back into the room and gingerly lowering himself into a chair. “Dad, I used your phone to call me wife. I’ll give you some quid for it. Why was the phone unplugged, though?” asked Drew. “Oh, I keep it like that,” said Karl. “Otherwise I get too many calls I don’t want from salespeople and such and the sound of the phone hurts my head. Did you unplug it again when you were done?” “Er, no, but I can,” said Drew, getting up. He felt a sharp pain in his ankle and sat back down. “I really took a pummellin’ in the tournament!” he exclaimed. “Me ankle feels like it’s on fire. I’m goin’ take one of me muscle relaxers, usually just one does the trick.”

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“Here, I’ve got something stronger,” said Karl, still looking rather green as he unplugged the phone. He tossed Drew a bottle of pills from a side table. “What’s this?” Drew examined the little bottle, which was covered in tiny German words. “Painkillers. I have lots of ‘em, because of the cancer,” said Karl. “Try it, Drew. Honestly it’s going to do you more good than whatever it is you are going to take.” Drew looked at the bottle. “I can’t read this, it’s all in German,” he complained. “Go on, just try it,” Karl insisted. “If you don’t like it, I won’t give it to you again. Take two and see how you feel.” Drew took the little white pills, feeling like he was accepting a really strong drink he didn’t really want. Just as he swallowed them, the front door opened and closed. In came a scrawny, aging woman in a nurse’s uniform. She was dog-faced, with puffy eyes and pockmarked mottled skin. Her stringy silver hair fell just above her narrow, bony shoulders. “Ah, Hagra,” said Karl. “Drew, this is my nurse Hagra. She doesn’t speak any English. Hagra, mein Sohn, Drew.” Hagra held out a bony hand. Drew shook it and was surprised to find it was freezing cold. “Hallo,” said Hagra in a croaky voice. She said something in rapid German to Karl, who grinned and clutched at her arm. “Dad,” said Drew, “I think those pills are goin’ come back out again.” He was feeling quite bilious all of the sudden. “Try some of that,” said Karl as he allowed Hagra to guide him into the bedroom. “It’s an anti-nausea drink.” Drew sniffed suspiciously at the little brown bottle and took a cautious swig. His insides warmed immediately. Within five minutes, he felt much better and his pain was completely gone. Even old injuries that he just accepted didn’t hurt him now. A feeling of relaxation and pleasant removal enveloped him. He had never felt like this before. Feeling suddenly sleepy, Drew decided to call it a night on this high note and headed to the guestroom. Walking past Karl’s bedroom,

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he saw Hagra shooting a dose of something into her own arm with a syringe. Karl was lying on the bed, apparently dozing. ** * “You’d love to see what I’ve done with the cottage, Dad,” said Drew the next morning, looking around the filthy apartment. “Claudine and I have made massive restorations and changes to it so it is even nicer than ever. Won’t you consider comin’ back with me and meetin’ the family and just havin’ a proper holiday? You’d have everythin’ you need there.” “I’m not really up for a trip to England,” said Karl in his feeble voice, “but if you want to help me, I know a way you could. If you could throw me twenty thousand, it would help me more than anything, son. Could you do me that favour?” Drew stared at his father, shocked. “That’s a lot o’ money, Dad,” he said after a pause. “I actually can’t really spare it because I have the money already spent, with payin’ big overdue bills back home. What do you need that much money for anyway? If you’d come home with me, I’d look after you properly. I’m offerin’ you the best place in the world, Dad, by inviting you to stay with me. You’d meet your grandchildren and your daughter-in-law. It’d mean the world to me, and we both know it would help you.” “I will think about it, son. But can you afford to give me a hand with money so I can get by in the meantime? I still could use about ten thousand pounds. Can you spare that?” Karl asked. “Good God, Dad! What do you need that much quid for? Like I said, I can take much better care of you in England than I can over here. Why would you want to stay here if you could be with me family instead?” Drew went to the tournament alone the next night. Karl was nauseated again and was not feeling up to it, so he just gave Drew the spare key and told him to come back later. Drew called a taxi and was just getting into it when he saw movement in a dingy-looking parked car next to him. He peered inside and saw a dirty, matted man with his mouth open and e yes closed. A head of silvery-white 147

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hair pumped up and down at his groin. Drew just got a glimpse of the nurse’s uniform before he slipped into the taxi, feeling slightly sick. Again, Drew won his fight, but it came at a cost. By the time he got back to the apartment, his ankle was throbbing even more than the burning ache in his neck. “Dad, do you have any more o’ those pain pills?” he asked as soon as he got in the door. “Of course,” said Karl, rushing to get the bottle. “Did you win?” “Yes,” said Drew, “but I feel pretty beat up. Say, I need to talk to you about somethin.’ On the way to the tournament, I saw that nurse of yours, Hagra, in a car outside. I think she was ‘servicing’ some bloke, if you know what I mean. I don’t get a good feelin’ from her at all. Maybe I could hire you a better nurse.” Karl came back to the doorway, pills in hand. He had a pathetic look on his face that reminded Drew of the face his dog made when the family was leaving. “You and Hagra are all I have left in this world,” said Karl, handing Drew the pills. “She is just my nurse, so what she does outside of this room doesn’t concern me. She takes care of me, son. Can’t you see that? She gets rid of my damn pain!” “All right, all right,” said Drew. He suspected that Hagra was more than Karl’s nurse, but he decided not to press the issue. “Say, can I use your telephone again? I’ll pay you back for the international charges.” Drew continued on in the ring each night with a well-earned victory+ and after each win he felt more like he was the best fighter at the UGA tournament despite his injuries. Rumours were flying that Drew would eventually be fighting an impressive, tremendously respected and much-feared European fighter named Geronimo in the finals. Drew was rather looking forward to fighting Geronimo for the pure honour and experience of it, no matter how gruelling of a match it would be. It might even be the match of his career and he imagined how proud everyone back home would be when they eventually saw it on video. The next Saturday, Karl again came to the show ended up getting very ill before the end of the night. Drew was once again forced to 148

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leave the arena before he had a chance to get his money. Again, Wilson said he would have to do the cash-out another week. He was sympathetic, as Drew’s father was obviously very sick. “Can you give me a small advance, a couple thousand, to last me until next week?” Drew asked. Wilson stared in the direction that Karl had rushed just a moment ago on his way to the toilet. “Yes, I can do that, Drew. I have to get you to sign here, on the clipboard, and I will count out that amount. I have that on me now. Sorry you father is so sick. You should take him home, yes?” Drew thanked him for the money and left in a hurry with Karl. That night, after Drew was thoroughly doped up and sleeping, Hagra pointed in the direction of the guestroom. “Did you give him the pills again?” she asked Karl in German. “Yes, yes,” said Karl. “He’s actually asking for at least three at a time now. I’m slipping other stuff like GHB into his drinks, too. And I make him unplug the phone each night so his wife can’t reach him here.” “Perfect,” said Hagra, her eyes turning into narrow slits as she smiled. “Karl, you just keep him doped up and I guarantee you will get the money. Keep giving him drugs every night. Give him a chance to give you the money himself, after the tournament is done. And if he doesn’t give it to you, we will take it from him.” “He keeps asking me to go to England with him,” said Karl, scratching his armpit. “Tell him you might go with him, just to keep him hanging around you,” suggested Hagra. “Because if you two get into an argument or he goes back to hotel, we might not get close to him again. So keep him happy. Lie to him. It’s not that difficult, Karl.” “But what about you? Shouldn’t I be asking him to let you come to England too?” Karl asked. “Karl, you plug your ear so my words don’t go through your head! You’re not going to England. And I don’t want to go to England!”

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“Yeah, well, I don’t think Drew wants you there either, just so you know,” said Karl. “What’s that supposed to mean, that Drew don’t want me there?” said Hagra, advancing on the frail old man. “What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you son? Why he fucking judging me, Karl?” “Well, I don’t think he likes you, that’s all,” replied Karl, looking at her haughtily. “Fuck it! Don’t distract me with stupid things by saying what if this and what if that, you asshole,” snapped Hagra, pouring herself a stiff drink in a dirty glass. “Just keep your loser son happy, keep him winning his fights so when it’s done, we have the prize money for ourselves. Don’t fucking get all caught up in stupid details! I don’t like your fuckin’ son anyway. There’s nothing wrong with me!” she muttered to herself as she took a long drag on her cigarette.

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14 BEGGING FOR THE MORPHINE Drew finally got paid on June 15, at the beginning of his third week of the UGA tournament. His father did not come to watch that day and Drew took a few pain pills with him so he would be able to wait around for long enough count the money. It felt great to have the heavy grey envelope with the words ‘DREW BELLAMY, UGA’ boldly written across it in dark blue ink. Since he didn’t have to fight the next day, he would make sure he got to the bank and sent it off in the morning. He called Claudine as soon as he got back to Karl’s apartment to tell her the good news. The next morning when Drew got up, Karl was passed out on his bed. Drew hobbled into the lavatory and looked at himself in the dirty mirror above the plain white pedestal sink. “Bloody hell! I need to get the fuck out o’ here! I can’t believe what’s happenin’ to me!” he thought as he looked at his reflection. He was bedraggled and exhausted-looking, with a big bruise on his face from a fight a few nights before.

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As soon as he was washed up, Drew limped his way to the freezer, which Karl insisted was the place to hide Drew’s money “from potential thieves.” Drew found it easily, it didn’t seem like his father was hiding it too well. He was making his way as quietly as he could towards the front door when Karl suddenly appeared. “You know, I feel pretty good today, Drew,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “You wouldn’t mind if I set out with you - catch a bit of sunlight, eh? Such a nice day for a stop in the park, but there are none around here.” “Oh sure, that’s fine. But I have to go to the bank before we do anythin’ else, so the nice day at the park will have to come later. I’ve absolutely have to transfer some money home to Claudine!” “Sure, sure,” said Karl, shuffling off to the kitchen and putting the electric kettle on. “Then we’ll take a drive and find someplace sunny to rest our tired bones. I don’t know how many chances I’ve got left to spend a cheerful afternoon in the park with my son. Give me a minute, will you?” “Claudine and the kids are countin’ on this to get them caught up on things, so Dad, hurry up.” “Fair enough, Drew, just let me wash my face and put on a clean shirt and we can go,” said Karl, “but let’s give you a shot in your arm, son, before we set off, so you can manage all the walking about we’ll be doing.” It had become a routine, as Drew’s injuries got worse, for Karl to give Drew a shot of morphine in the morning to help with his pain. Today Drew was feeling terrible and he was craving a shot, but despite the debilitating pain in his ankle, he didn’t think it was a good idea to have any painkillers before he sent off the money. “No, Dad, I have to go now. I’m not pissin’ around today, even if it kills me. Hurry up washin’ your face and let’s go!” Drew said impatiently. “Yes, okay, son,” said Karl, wandering back into the kitchen. “Have the coffee. It’s fresh, with cream and sugar and I will be ready in two minutes, yes? Look at me moving about quick as a rabbit! That’s a good sign, don’t you agree?”

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Karl handed Drew the cup of coffee and he headed to the lavatory sink. He turned the water on and began splashing his red, pockmarked face with cold water. Drew accepted the hot cup and drank it down quickly, hoping it would somehow rush his father. In a few minutes, Karl was clumsily pulling his shoes on. Drew took a final gulp of coffee and opened the door, only to see Hagra walking up the door. She was in street clothes today. The horrible pale green sundress made her look even worse than the nurse’s outfit. Karl said something to her in German, and he nodded her ugly head. “She wants to come,” said Karl. “Let’s go!” Drew had his packet of money in his hand, still cold from being in the freezer. He wanted to tell her to piss off, but because he was in such a hurry to get this done, he didn’t argue. As they were walking to the bank, Drew was feeling strange, though he wasn’t feeling a lot of pain either. He didn’t understand why he was feeling so spaced out. Soon, he didn’t even know what he was doing. He was simply blank. While the three waited in line at the bank, Karl asked Drew if he needed any help with the transfer. “Do you want Hagra to fill out the paperwork, son? It’s in German.” Drew looked at his dad, like he wasn’t sure what he was even saying, and nodded. They took a cab back from the bank, the two brittle old people bouncing the big wrestler along between them. As soon as they got into the apartment, Drew collapsed on the couch, out cold. Hagra handed the packet of money to Karl, who immediately hid it in the very back of the freezer. This time he hid it very well, slipping it into a plastic bag full of frozen vegetables. He then returned to where Drew was lying unconscious on the couch. “Here we go,” muttered the old man, stacking grimy throw pillows one on top of the other. He propped Drew’s head up so that his chin was pushed so far into his chest that his breathing was constricted and his neck was at a terrible angle. When that was finished, Karl started forcing old shoes and bottles under Drew’s shoulders and hips, twisting him into an absurdly crooked shape.

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“Why are you doing that, Karl?” Hagra asked in German. She had just helped herself to a syringe of something and was swaying from side to side. “Just having a bit of fun!” he said. “I’ll put him back to normal before he wakes up. This is just to make him crave the pain candy a bit more.” “You sick idiot!” She pulled a few things out from under Drew’s body, but she was so feeble and drugged that she couldn’t do much to help him. “Well, whatever,” she said finally, nudging Drew with her him. “What do I care anyway? He’s not my loser son!” Karl just sneered. “What do you want to do, once we have all of the money?” he asked Hagra. “We’ll disappear somewhere, maybe Russia. We’ll make some really good drug connections there with this cash and live the rest of our lives in ecstasy,” she said with a wide grin that showed off her jagged, greyish teeth. “That won’t be long for me, I reckon,” said Karl. “I’d expect I have about a year left.” “I’ll make it best year of you miserable life,” said Hagra. “I want to get an escort business started in Russia. Then you can have all the filthy whores you like.” Karl rubbed his hands together in anticipation. *** After the closing ceremonies of the tournament, which Drew didn’t remember well, he received the remaining $50,000 cash. It was in the same type of envelope as the first one, with Drew’s name in blue written across it. Karl helpfully took it off Drew’s hands and put it in the freezer when they got back to his flat. He wrapped it together with the first packet and threw it into a thin white plastic shopping bag, sticking it behind cold packs and old freezer-burnt meats. Now there was one fat grey package in the freezer containing nearly one hundred thousand dollars. After Drew went to bed in a drugged stupor, Karl telephoned Hagra. “We’ve got all the money. Let’s just go tonight.”

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“Can’t,” said Hagra. “I’m in Dusseldorf getting more goods from a contact of mine. I figure we need them for our own trip. I won’t be back until tomorrow. Can you keep you loser son under control until I get back?” Karl glanced over toward the guestroom where his son was sleeping. There was an odd debate going on in his twisted, drugaddled mind. Should he fly to England with his son and live out his life in comfort and luxury? Or, should he stick to the plan, steal the money, and run away with Hagra? He wasn’t thinking very coherently right now. He was so doped up that living in Chester actually seemed like a good idea. “If I did that, maybe I could get even more money from him,” he mumbled as he passed out right on the kitchen floor. In the morning, Drew was not looking his usual fit, handsome self. He was bloated in his face and battered from head to toe, but he didn’t even seem to notice. When he limped to the kitchen and found Karl lying on the floor, he was afraid for a moment the old man had died, but Karl was very much alive and even managed to make sure the freezer door was securely closed before shuffling into the living room. “You and Hagra seem to fight over everything and she even throws shoes and bottles at you, Dad,” Drew said, gingerly easing himself into a chair. “She’s filthy. Not like a dirty floor, but filthy like… you know, Dad. I don’t think I’m out of line here in sayin’ this, because you seem to rather hate her too. The way you two carry on, well, I wouldn’t want me kids or me wife to be witness to it. It’s kind of disturbin’.” Karl guffawed. “She can be a right bitch,” he admitted. Unexpectedly, Drew grimaced. He felt as though a thousand needles had been slipped into his backbone. “This is too fuckin’ much! I can’t stand it! I feel like jumpin’ out the window! Give us a couple painkillers, eh?” “Let me make you a coffee, son, and I’ll give you three pills,” said Karl, standing. “I’m having a couple too. We need to get feeling better and then we can talk about the move to England. I need to take care of things, like I said, before I can go anywhere. But we’ll figure it out, son.” 155

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“Ta, Dad. Cream and sugar, and two, or is it three pills?” Drew cheered up slightly as he anticipated how much better he would soon feel. “But Dad, I can’t justify giving you the money you keep askin’ me for if you’re comin’ to England. And Hagra, well, I already made it clear she’s not included in this deal.” “Yes, yes,” said Karl, obediently going to the kitchen and preparing coffee for him and his son. He poured a hefty splash of GHB into his son’s coffee along with the sugar and cream, enough to render Drew unconscious for a few hours. “Ta, Dad,” said Drew as he gratefully took the three painkillers and coffee from his father. Gulping them and the coffee down, he sat back and waited for relief. He was beginning to think he needed something much stronger than tablets to pacify him. A short while later, Karl came out of the toilet and saw his son unconscious in a heap on the sofa. Cautiously, Karl walked up and sat down next to him. For a moment, he wondered if he maybe would be all right to stay in England and spend more time with this man. He nodded off for what seemed like just a moment and was abruptly awakened three hours later by rapid knocking at the door.

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15 CLAUDINE IS HERE IN FRANKFURT Claudine’s head swam with worry all through her flight over to Frankfurt am Main. What happened to Drew? Where could he be and why was he acting so strange? Why didn’t the promoter know what became of him? Did he get arrested? If he was in jail, or worse, surely the police would have informed her by now, right? Claudine wondered why Drew hadn’t contacted Stefan after his last match, when he hurt his back. She wondered why the promoter didn’t get Drew to a decent doctor. No one seemed to know much about Drew at all on this big tour. It was all so surreal. After a very restless flight, Claudine met Stefan outside of the Frankfurt am Main International Airport. “Claudine! Very nice to see you,” he said, holding out a hand. Stefan was just a little taller than Claudine and had dark hair and eyes to match. “Very nice to see you in person, said Claudine, shaking Stefan’s hand. “And thank you for helpin’ me with this.”

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“Not a problem,” said Stefan, loading Claudine’s bag into the back of his little white BMW sports car. Their first stop was the posh German hotel where the wrestlers were staying, since Claudine had no idea what Karl’s address was. Stefan spoke with the hotel manager, who was a good friend of his, and explained that he needed to get into Drew’s room because of a family emergency. “Of course,” said the manager, handing Claudine a key. “We have not seen Mr. Bellamy here much. The cleaning staff says that his room looks the same each morning. Good luck!” In the room, they searched through the pockets of Drew’s big silk suits and dress shirts hanging in his closet. Stefan opened Drew’s big aluminum suitcase, where he found his journal, a faded picture, and a manila folder full of birth and death certificates. The journal contained a list of expenses, a daily workout routine, and list of names, phone numbers, and addresses. One of the addresses was for Karl Beverly. “Claudine, look at this,” said Stefan, handing her the documents and journal. “Perfect! Now we know where to go,” she said. “Hang on, though. I should leave Drew a note in case he comes back here.” She grabbed the hotel stationary and wrote, My Dear Drew, I’m here in Frankfurt now and I’m worried about you. I hope you are all right. Please call Stefan if you read this. Love, Claudine Then she and Stefan were out the door and in the car, on their way to Karl’s apartment. “Stefan, Karl contacted you initially, right?” asked Claudine on the way to Karl’s apartment. “Yes, Karl Beverly was totally unknown to everyone until about six weeks ago,” said Stefan. “He was becoming a familiar face in the dressing room during the tournament, though, because Drew kept 158

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bringing him in. He was there a lot, even the last night when Drew was getting his second payment of $50,000 in cash. That night, Drew was looking so bad that Wolfgang was asking him not to come into the ring for the awards. Drew was barely able to walk, and his dad, who looks like a skeleton, was actually helping him walk.” Claudine was fighting not to cry. “Oh my God!” “I think he got very injured in the tournament,” said Stefan. “I heard Drew got hurt early on, and then I was seeing him hurting his back badly in his last match.” “Drew told me he injured his neck and ankle in his first fight,” Claudine affirmed. “Yes, that makes sense,” said Stefan. “Wolfgang and I were both noticing him limping quite a lot and sometimes he was looking sick in the dressing room. Wolfgang was not always happy with his work, but Drew was winning, so who can complain? Often, Claudine, Drew would come to the show already in his gear, with his boots already on, instead of getting dressed there like all of the other wrestlers. Is he always doing that?” “That’s not like Drew at all,” said Claudine. “Drew likes to have a shower before he gets in the ring, before he gets into his gear. Weird that he’d show up that way. But then, there were a lot of weird things. He said his dad kept giving him pills for his pain. Sometimes he seemed right irritable, or dead dopey, and he even fell asleep on the phone when he was talking to me once! None of this is like him. He’s proper solid, you know? I can’t imagine what could possibly have such a hold on him that he’d be so irresponsible and forget about his family.” Stefan nodded his head and hummed in acknowledgement as he pulled up in front of Karl’s building, his white BMW a solitary light spot in the dark and dingy street. Claudine cringed at the sight of the derelict neighbourhood. How could Drew be living in this vile district? As they approached the metal door, Claudine looked around for a buzzer, but there was no need—the door was ajar, the lock broken. An uneasy feeling gripped her stomach as she and Stefan climbed up the soiled stairs to the third floor. She was driving herself crazy thinking 159

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of every possible bad scenario as she and Stefan hurried down the hallway. As soon as they got to the apartment, Claudine spotted Drew’s white leather trainers with his signature black laces along with a pair of ordinary men’s brown leather shoes outside the door. “He’s here,” said Claudine sharply. “Those are his shoes.” She grabbed the door handle and rattled it. When there was no response, she pushed on the door trying to burst through, but it was locked. Stefan put his hand on top of hers and held it still. “Let me try,” he said, taking Claudine’s place in front of the door. He knocked quickly, a series of raps that would have woken anyone. “Hello? This is Stefan Meyer. Drew, are you in there? Hello? This is Stefan Meyer! Hello, Drew?” When there was no response, he continued rapping his consistent beat on the door. “Drew? Drew?” he called out again and again. Finally, from inside the apartment, they heard a crackly, wheezy voice. “What do you want?!” “It’s Stefan Meyer from the UGA and Claudine Bellamy from the IWF. Is Drew Bellamy in there? Drew?” Stefan asked again in a loud voice. “No! He is not! Get lost!” was the cold, abrupt reply. “Listen, Claudine Bellamy, Drew’s wife, is standing right here and she needs to see Drew Bellamy! Where can we find him?” Stefan put emphasis on shouting Claudine’s name the loudest, in case Drew was inside. “I’m lookin’ for my husband, Drew Bellamy,” Claudine chimed in. “Are you his father? Are you Karl?” “Yah, this is him,” shouted the voice. “Drew is not here! Try back later. I will tell him you were here.” “Can I come in to meet you? I need to see him!” Claudine pleaded. “No, you can’t! I’m sick! Come back later!” “But I see his trainers out here. Where is he then? Please open the door. Let me come in. I .need to see him!” Her eyes filled with

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tears when there was no response. Wearily she put her head against the door and closed her eyes. Toasty’s stern face floated into her mind. She made a promise to him, and now she had to keep it. “I’m not leavin’ until you open this door! I’m goin’ kick it down and make a scene if you don’t open up!” she shouted. She kicked the bottom of the door as hard as she could, again and again. The last time, someone opened the door before she could kick it and she stumbled forward. Drew was standing just inches from her, a pair of crutches under his arms. His hair was longer than she was used to seeing it and he hadn’t shaved his face in a few days. His nose was swollen and broken, and he had a deep cut indented on the bridge of it. Both of his eyes were blackened, but they were still that beautiful hazel colour and they were still framed with his incredible eyelashes. He smiled at her, and she noticed that one of he was missing a tooth. “Oh my God! Drew!” Claudine cried, throwing her arms around Drew and causing him to buckle on his crutches. Stefan quickly grabbed him and steadied him. “Sorry,” she said, untangling herself from him. “I was so worried, Drew! I thought you were dead!” “Chick,” he said, looking down at her and smiling. Claudine noticed that his eyes were bloodshot and unfocused. “I’m not dead. It’s just me ankle, me back and me neck too, everythin’. I hurt like a bastard all over. I can’t even get me trainers on because of me ankle. I don’t do much standin’ lately. Let’s sit down, c’mon.” Drew steered himself around and showed Claudine and Stefan into the kitchen. Claudine was horrified to see the state of the place. There were piles of dirty clothes and garbage everywhere. Empty whiskey and beer bottles, half empty glasses of alcohol, and dirty ashtrays full of cigarette butts with lipstick on some of them were scattered about the floors and surfaces. A funny smell, almost like vinegar or bad body odour, filled the air. Karl, now in the living room, fit right in with his unhealthy pallor and angry red eyes. “Hey, Dad, this is me wife, Claudine. She’s a cracker, you know.” Karl grunted, as though that was all the greeting Claudine deserved. Drew didn’t seem to notice his indifference. “Aww, even when you’re 161

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cryin’ you still look so pretty, Claudine, eh, Dad? Silly ass, being worried about me,” he said as he wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb. She smiled through her tears. Even in this terrible place, and even with him in this state, she was so relieved that she had found him. “Hey, what time is it? And what bloody day is it?” asked Drew. “I’ve been so worried about you, and look at you!” said Claudine, ignoring the query. “God, Drew, you look like you’re in so much pain! What happened? We need to get you to a doctor straight away!” She guided him to the most sanitary-looking chair in the room and she and Stefan helped him take a seat. Claudine perched on the arm of the chair. With the light streaming in through the window, she could see that his face was a funny colour. His complexion looked damp and clammy; his pupils were dilated and he was sweating heavily. “Dad just got home from the hospital himself. Our Toasty’s minding him and the kids right now at the farm. Toasty said things couldn’t be right if you weren’t phoning home, and you said you might stay longer, but we need money so badly at home— ” “It’s all about the money!” Karl scoffed. “You hear that, Drew? She’s come for the money!” This, more than anything else, seemed to bring Drew back to earth. “Stop it, Dad!” Drew snapped at his father. He looked apologetically back at Claudine. “I got the rest o’ me contract money from Wolfgang,” he told her. “It’s in a grey packet just like the first, with me name written and UGA written on it. Remember now, I want to keep that envelope so I can frame it. It’s not artwork or a masterpiece, but it deserves to be framed and put on our wall as a tribute to survivin’ hard times, physically and mentally, for all of us, you know?” “Of course, Drew,” said Claudine, brushing Drew’s hair out of his face. “Dad hid it in the freezer where no one will find it, didn’t you, dad? Dad, go on and get it for Claudine.”

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Karl rose and shuffled into the kitchen, glowering at Claudine. He didn’t say a word. “What day is it? I miss the kids so much! Next time we are all going to come here and hopefully Toasty will be on the show too.” “Sure, Drew,” said Claudine. “Stefan, did you get any photos of me from me last fight?” “Yes, of course, but I—” “How did Billy get so sick?” said Drew, cutting Stefan off and turning back to Claudine. He grabbed her hand, and Claudine noticed that his hand was burning hot. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, every little vein pulsing red in the white background. “I’m going to frame that grey envelope when I get home — it’ll be like a medal I won, and a reminder of payin’ me dues,” he repeated. “This tour was bloody hard!” Claudine watched Drew’s eyes carefully. Something seemed to shift again within them and he turned back to the kitchen. “Get me that packet, Dad… give it to Claudine now… so I don’t keep gettin’ side-tracked,” he called loudly. His voice sounded hoarse, and his words were coming out in spurts. “It’s hers as much as mine… and she knows what has to be taken care of at home. “And Stefan… we’ll guard her and that money like Rottweilers! It’s dangerous to have 50 grand cash… kept in your pocket, especially ‘round these parts!” he said. “Bloody pickpockets everywhere here. Hey Stefan… how long has the tour been over? I remember… doin’ me back in in the last match, but I don’t even know who won…. That looks fuckin’ bad on me.” There was a moment of silence as Stefan and Claudine tried to absorb everything Drew had just said. Claudine carefully put her hand on Drew’s forehead and was dismayed to feel that it, too, was as hot as a kettle. “Umm, it was Geronimo, that big kick boxer,” said Stefan. “He said he was hoping to fight you in the main event. It would have been such a good match-up. The fans would have really got double their money’s worth with that one to finish the tournament off with.” “Oh, aye, aye, that’s… what I thought too,” said Drew excitedly. “I really wanted to fight him too, like… would have been an honour, 163

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you know? He’s a tough. I got on well with him, you know? We talked about me comin’ up… to Amsterdam for a few weeks to train with him and his team. I told him I’d bring our Demps with me… get him learnin’ young. I meant to get an autograph from him for Dempsey… can you get me his number, Stef, so… I can call him? What are the chances of getting our Toasty up there, eh Claudine? Would do him good to… train there a solid fortnight! Hey, Dad, did you find the money yet? Are you looking for a needle in a haystack or for the money in the freezer? Did you say you didn’t get the money, Claudine? I’m…sure I sent it you.” Karl reappeared from the kitchen, empty-handed. “I’m weak, Drew, so let me catch my breath and then I will go find the money,” he wheezed. “It’s hidden so well with frozen peas and fish and whatever else is stuffed in there that I can’t get it without having a good root around and taking stuff out. I’m goin’ to make us a brew first.” Karl’s gaze turned to Claudine and hardened. Claudine thought he looked like a vulture, with his liver-spotted, wrinkly head and beak-like nose. “You know, we were resting when the pair of you came in here and woke us up, so can you just give me a minute, Pauline?!” he said. “And another thing, you should stop harassing my son for money! That’s all I’ve heard him talk to you on the phone about, is money, money, money! And since you barged in that door all I’ve heard is money, money, money! You’re not really worried about Drew!” He gave her one final glare before he retreated back to the kitchen. “Drew, you know that’s not true!” said Claudine. “I’ve been worried sick about you, obviously for good reason, too. I came here to bring you home!” “Our Claudine’s not like that, Dad,” shouted Drew, wincing in pain. “C’mon now, you’re just… crabby because you’re tired.” Stefan seemed to notice the wince. He crouched down to get a better look at Drew. “Oh, please, for God’s sake Drew, let’s just go,” urged Claudine. “Let’s get your trainers and we can just go to the hospital, eh?”

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Drew didn’t seem to be listening. His face was contorted with pain. He leaned over and pulled up his training pants at the cuff, which was cut up the inside seam to give him easy access to his ankle. Claudine saw how thick the ankle was, wrapped in yards of elastic bandage. Stefan grabbed a brown ottoman with a suspicious greyish stain on it and dragged it over. He helped Drew get his ankle onto the ottoman, where he and Claudine carefully unwound the bandaging. Drew laid his head back and moaned. “Unwrap the bandages. They’re dead tight!” Drew said. He breathed loud and slowly as they unwrapped it foot by foot. When it was finally revealed, Claudine thought she might be sick. His entire calf was badly bruised, and all around the ankle and foot the colour was so dark it was almost black, with yellow and blue bruising on the edges. His toes were like fat green and purple caterpillars. His toenails appeared disproportionately small and looked like they didn’t belong on these grossly swollen toes. It didn’t look like the foot was connected to the leg and shin bone at all. The extreme swelling continued all the way up into his knee, and his skin was tight and shiny because there was so much fluid retention. Claudine gasped in horror as she looked closer at his ankle. It was the worst injury she had ever seen in her life. She tenderly touched the hard, swollen calf. “Oh my God, Drew!” was all she could say.

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16 SO SPACED OUT “I don’t want to have surgery, Claudine. I’ve never had a bloody surgery in me life,” said Drew in a slightly panicked voice. “Hey… what are you doing here, Stefan? It’s good to see you… but why are you here?” He seemed to be having trouble speaking; it was apparent that his pain was intensifying. “Oh, Drew, for God’s sake! What’s become of you?” Hot tears streamed down Claudine’s face. “Me dad’s cancer specialist told me a while back I’ll probably need surgery… on me ankle,” said Drew, staring out into space. “He was not impressed… when I told him I’d be wrestlin’ on it later that night, but that was a while back, you know. He gave me some strong tablets for pain. I’ve hurt it worse since, I reckon… but I don’t remember how.” “I can tell you’re in dreadful pain! I’m so sorry about what’s happened to you! Can’t you see you need to go to the hospital now?”

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Drew looked at Claudine and put his burning hand on her cheek. “Hey, me dad’s supposed to be comin’ back with me,” he said quietly. “I want him to live with us ‘til he dies. You are so pretty Claudine, c’mon, don’t cry.” Karl shuffled back into the room and handed Stefan and Claudine each a cup of coffee, then disappeared again. Claudine wanted to throw the burning brew into Karl’s face, but she followed Stefan’s lead and placed her cup on the end table where Stefan’s was. She didn’t trust Karl at all. She thought he might have spat in it or worse. “Drew, are those yours?” asked Stefan. Claudine saw that he was pointed at a pile of used syringes, rubber tubing, and several pill bottles at the end of the table. Drew robotically nodded. Grimly, Stefan tapped Claudine on the shoulder and gestured at Drew’s arm. There were little pockmarks encircled by distinct bruising in the crook of his arm, where his thick veins showed up the most. Claudine was nearly at her breaking point. She never hated someone so much in her whole life as she hated Karl Beverly. She wanted to kill him with her bare hands right then and there as he came back with coffee for Drew and himself, unfazed by Claudine’s horror or Drew’s brutally assaulted body. “Why does Drew have those bruises on his arms?” she demanded of the old man. “Why? I’ll tell you why—he’s been fighting with a fucking broken body!” said Karl, looking at Claudine as though she was a bag of dog dung. “And don’t act so innocent and surprised, Pauline, ‘cuz I know he’s told you about his injuries already. I heard him telling you on the telephone when you were arguing with him. He’s barely hanging in there, so I share my pain medications with him. That’s right, I’ve been giving my painkillers that I need for my own terminal illness to him because I couldn’t stand to see him suffer.” Claudine gave Karl a good hard stare before turning back to her battered husband. “Drew, let’s at least get you to a doctor over here and you can still be with your dad until he gets a bit stronger, you know, so he can fly to England,” she said, although the last thing in the world she wanted was to live with Karl. “But let’s get you to the hospital now, eh? We can get your ankle put in a cast and maybe you 168

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will feel better. Maybe after that we could get you and your dad on the same flight home.” Drew shook his head emphatically. “I don’t want to go to the hospital, because they’ll want to do surgery and probably tell me summat like… I can never wrestle again,” he said. “If I can’t wrestle again, what’ll we do? What’ll the kids do? I feel like… shite right now, though, and me whole body’s absolutely throbbin’. I could probably use a few strong tablets… or summat else to tide me over. Say, Billy all right? I heard he was sick. Or is that… me dad who’s sick?” The more confusing Drew got, the more Claudine wanted to rip Karl’s leathery head off his decrepit body. She started crying even more, half out of rage and half out of worry. Drew saw this and slowly picked up her hand, pressing it to his swollen lips. “All right, Chickie. I’ll go to the hospital for you ‘cuz you’re cryin’ so much. I feel like cryin’ now too. Me pain comes back dead severe when the stuff wears off,” Drew said with a huge wince. He suddenly doubled over in pain, and it was all Claudine could do to keep from falling apart when she saw how much he was suffering. “Auggh! This damn fuckin’ pain!” he gasped, looking up at Claudine. “Claudine, I don’t want you to see me like this! Where’s me dad’s nurse? She’s supposed to… give me dad his medicine pretty soon. I’m not sure where she is at the moment. You know… me dad has cancer in his pancreas? He knows he’s dying.” “My son needs to get some rest,” interjected Karl loudly. “Look at the state of him. He’s in excruciating pain! He was trying to sleep when you two came here pounding on my door. I think you should leave.” “Drew, I know you’re in terrible pain,” said Claudine quietly, ignoring Karl. “We can see you’re sufferin’ and strugglin’ right now. Please, please can’t we just get you to the hospital? I promise we’ll work it all out for you and your dad. Dempsey and Bella need to see you, and we can’t do anything for you ‘til we get you out of here. I swear to God that we will not leave your father! I swear to God everythin’ will be better once we get you to the hospital! We’ll fix everythin,’ I promise!” 169

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“Claudine is right. Drew, we should get you to a doctor straight away,” said Stefan in a business-like tone. “Let’s get this done, yes? We have to work together on this! All of us!” Drew nodded laboriously and motioned for Stefan to help him to stand up. But Drew was heavy and unsteady, and trying to stand up was almost impossible now. “I was better a while ago. I didn’t feel it so damned much,” he said, wincing heavily. “I’m starting to feel like I want… to really kill meself, you know? I’d rather bloody die than live in this pain… right now, it’s that bad!” “Karl, can you give him something now so he can at least be transported to the hospital?” said Stefan. Karl nodded. Drew turned his bleary eyes on Claudine. “Chick, please, I need you to go away,” he said. “I don’t want you to see me, and what I’m doin.’ I won’t do that to you. Please, go wait… in the car.” “My car, it is too small though, it’s only a two-seater,” said Stefan. “I can call an ambulance, it’s faster, yes? They can start to work on you right away, as soon as they walk through that door they can start to help you. But I don’t think you should move around right now. Just be still. We will fix you up and call the ambulance.” “Yah, call me a bloody ambulance!” said Drew, shouting and nearly doubled over with pain. Stefan called on his mobile phone while Drew agitatedly apologized to Claudine. “Please get out, Chickie, and meet me at the hospital? Can you do that, meet me at the hospital? Please? It will make it better for me… to know you will be there waiting for me. I am in so much pain, Chick! You have no idea!” She still thought he was beautiful, even with his face contorted with pain. She parted his dark hair away from his eyes. His velvety soft left ear was in the process of becoming a cauliflower. “I love you so much, and I’m sorry for… putting you through this,” he gasped. “Don’t make it worse by watching me do it.” Stefan had finished making the call to the emergency and announced an ambulance was on the way. “Okay. I will make sure I get Claudine to the hospital, but Karl, you must make sure Drew gets

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his fix and then you promise, no wait, swear! Swear, to all of us, that you will make sure Drew gets on that stretcher, gets in the ambulance, and gets to the hospital. Swear it or I will call the police right now and they will take you in for questioning about what’s been going on here with Drew! I don’t care that you’re dying, Karl, and the police won’t either!” “Yeah, I give you all my fucking word that I will get him to the hospital,” said Karl frantically. “I swear to you. Yah! Yah!” “Go, please Claudine, go now with… Stefan to the hospital,” said Drew. “And Karl, give Claudine the money, so she’s got it.” Claudine bent down and kissed Drew’s chapped, puffy lips, trying not to cry more. “I love you,” she said. “See you soon.” “I love you too, Chick,” he said weakly. As Claudine was rushed out the door with Stefan, Karl hostilely handed her a cold package wrapped in a white plastic grocery bag. “Here’s the money,” he said. She stuffed it in her handbag without looking at it. They got into Stefan’s car and drove silently and swiftly to the hospital. After a few minutes of sitting agitated in the car, Claudine opened up her handbag and looked inside the plastic grocery bag. Inside it was a brown paper bag full of tea bags. Barely ten seconds after Claudine and Stefan drove away, Hagra made her way into the apartment complex, a fresh batch of morphine and opium in her bag. She slipped off her tiny shoes and entered the dingy flat. The door was still partially open; she looked around suspiciously. Karl was beside himself. He quickly explained everything that had happened as Drew screamed in pain in the other room. Hagra scrunched up her tiny face as she thought. “Karl, get the quid! We must get out of here!” Hagra screeched in German. “Of course, they will search around this place and want to know what’s been going on in here. Don’t just stand there, you idiot! You think the paramedics won’t call the police when they get here and see all of this and see him? We’d go to jail!”

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“Yah, yah, you’re right again, bitch! Just give Drew his shot and quit telling me what to do!” Karl nagged back at her as he quickly hobbled over to the freezer. Hagra hastily went into the living room. Drew was looking at her imploringly. Snapping on her latex gloves, she grabbed Drew’s heavy arm, tying rubber tubing around the lowest part of his huge bicep. His vein bulged, ready to accept the needle. She prepared a dose and injected it into the vein, and as the morphine went in, Drew’s head dropped back in relief. Then, just to be sure, she shot him up again, and again, and again. In the kitchen, Karl was feebly squatting, frantically looking into the very bottom shelf of the little standing refrigerator-freezer. He was hastily fumbling about in the freezer as he tried to find the cash he hid so well. “What you doing, Karl? Hurry up! The ambulance will be here any second!” Hagra barked. “Ah, there it is! I got my hands on it, the whole thing, yah!” he shouted out to Hagra as he pulled the thick grey packet full of cold cash out of the freezer. Before he could stand up, Hagra shot a hefty dose of morphine directly into his little emaciated deltoid, leaving the syringe stuck there. He collapsed forward onto his face before flopping on his side. Quickly, Hagra put one of the used syringes from Drew’s fix into Karl’s limp right hand, making sure his fingerprints were on it. Hagra gripped the envelope full of money tighter with her gloved hands and fled through the fire exit of the building. The deafening ambulance siren was blaring as the vehicle pulled up to Karl’s apartment building. By the time the emergency team rushed, an eerie calm weighed heavily in the lifeless flat. The paramedics desperately tried to resuscitate Drew, but Hagra had given him enough morphine to kill a horse. He was gone. All the paramedics could do was lift Drew’s giant body onto their stretcher for transport to the hospital. One of them was trying not to cry, for he was a huge Drew Bellamy fan. In the kitchen, a few other paramedics tended to Karl, who was still lying on the floor, syringe in hand, in front of the open freezer.

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Claudine and Stefan had just parked and were standing outside of the hospital’s emergency room when the ambulance rushed in. Claudine ran to the back doors of the ambulance where the stretcher carrying Drew was being unloaded. “I’m his wife! I’m Drew’s wife,” she said hastily when they tried to wave her away. “Is he okay?” One of the paramedics seemed to be crying. “I am so sorry. What a waste! God bless him,” he said, and hurried to keep up with the stretcher. Stefan turned to Claudine, his face crumpled. “I’m—” “No, no, no!” Claudine cried. “Please save him, save him! Please! He can’t be dead! No!” She could not believe what she was seeing or hearing. She collapsed onto the sidewalk, rubbing her arms up and down like she was shivering. Then, in a daze, she stood up and walked a few steps out onto the pavement with her face in her hands. Cars drove around her, and one driver honked for her to move. Stefan rushed to her side, making a rude gesture at the driver as he coaxed her inside. After what seemed like an eternity, one of the doctors came out to talk to Claudine, accompanied by a man in street clothes. “Drew had a morphine overdose,” the doctor said. “He did not feel any pain when he died, but his body was in terrible shape. We took a crosssection image of his ankle and did an MRI, which showed that he had a fracture of the… I don’t know in English. One of the ankle bones. We think he hurt it a while ago and it got worse over time. The ligaments were so damaged that they could not hold the joint or the bones in place. There were also broken discs in his back and neck that needed surgery. It would have been a long recovery for him, if he lived. And after that, he never would have wrestled again.” Claudine could not process this information. She stared at the doctor numbly for a moment before the other man introduced himself. “I’m Sergeant Kinnick, with the Frankfurt Police Department,” he said in an American accent, pulling out a badge. “We suspect foul play in connection to your husband’s death. An investigation will be taking place. There is no way Drew could have been physically

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capable of shooting himself up with that much morphine. We have Karl Beverly in custody, he claims he is Drew’s father and that Drew committed suicide because he was under so much pressure at home. He is in the emergency ward now, too. He was found unconscious in the flat when Drew was discovered.” “Did you find anyone else at the flat?” asked Stefan as Claudine stood frozen. She felt like she was stuck in a terrible alternate reality. “I know of someone else you should look into. Did Karl mentioned a woman named Hagra?” asked Stefan as Claudine was escorted by the doctor into the room where Drew’s body lay. Claudine walked up to Drew, feeling like she might faint. He still felt warm, like he was still alive and she kept thinking he would suddenly sit up and tell her it was all a bad joke. She kissed his ankle and rubbed it many times with tenderness. She patted his bruised calf and held his big, meaty hand in hers, delicately pulling on his big, strong fingers. She had always loved his hands; they were thick, callused, and full of character. Moving up to his face, she patted his hair and kissed his ears, affectionately rubbing the swollen left ear that was starting to cauliflower. His other ear was still velvety soft and tender, like a baby’s. She kissed his chest right above his heart, repeating, “Your poor heart. You poor thing!” Claudine hoped Drew died believing everything was going to be fine and his last thoughts were reassuring and peaceful ones. “Drew, I’ve loved you ever since I met you,” she sobbed. “You mean so much to so many people.” “Entschuldigung,” came a voice behind her. “Beg pardon?” “Ah,” said the doctor. “Sorry, we need to examine the body more. You may come back later.” Claudine brought her face down to Drew’s thick hand and kissed it, still warm in her own hand, and said goodbye. She didn’t want to see him when he was cold and petrified and looking dead later. She preferred to have this image, as sad as it was, because he still looked like he had life in him.

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17 NO ONE RIVALLED HIM As soon as she left the room Claudine asked for a courtesy phone. No one but her family could console her now and as dreadful as the news was, she needed to tell her family as soon as she could. It would keep her from falling apart and they all would find strength and comfort from each other, even through a telephone line. Claudine dialed the familiar number on the hospital courtesy phone. No one answered. She hung up and robotically dialed the farm’s number instead. “Hallo?” answered Dempsey. “Hi, Dempsey. Is Isabella nearby?” Claudine asked as evenly as she could. “Isabella, it’s Mum,” Claudine heard Dempsey shout away from the phone. “Come here, she wants to talk to us.” “Let me talk to her,” Claudine heard Toasty say in the background. “No, Dempsey, I need to talk to you and Isabella first,” said Claudine. They were old enough, she felt, to hear this firsthand.

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“Okay, Mum. Isabella’s here at me side, she can hear,” Dempsey said. “We’re sharing the receiver. When will you and Dad be home?” “I’m at the hospital in Frankfurt. I…I don’t know how to say this…” She shuddered and steeled herself. The last thing she wanted was for her children to find out about the death of their father from a news report. “Your Dad’s gone to heaven. I…I just can’t believe it though, that he’s gone…I just saw him, I told him an ambulance was coming for him.” There was silence at the other end of the line. “Your dad was in so much pain when I found him…the doctors think he had too much medication, his dad gave it to him while he was waitin’ for the ambulance,” said Claudine, leaning against the cold cement wall at the hospital. “He wasn’t doin’ well, but I didn’t think he was goin’ to die! I don’t know what happened. I can’t believe he’s gone. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” More silence. And then Dempsey screamed, “NO, Mum! No! Mum says Dad’s gone to heaven.” There was a lot of noise and then Toasty was speaking into the phone. “What’s goin’ on? Our Drew can’t be gone! He can’t! What the hell happened?” “Drew was goin’ to the hospital in an ambulance with his dad and Stefan and I were meetin’ them there,” said Claudine, swallowing and trying to collect herself. It was important for Toasty to understand exactly what happened. “His bastard dad had been shootin’ him up with morphine and Drew didn’t want me to see him get his next fix, so I agreed to go and meet him at the hospital. The ambulance was on its way, we were only a few minutes ahead. I only left the room because Drew begged me to. He didn’t want me to see him get the shot from Karl. But don’t tell the kids that, Toasty. When the ambulance arrived at the hospital, the paramedics said Drew was already dead.” “Why’d you trust that bastard Karl to be left with Drew?” shouted Toasty. “What were you thinking? “Toasty, I didn’t want to leave Karl with Drew!” cried Claudine. “Drew begged me to leave them alone so Karl could give him the shot o’ morphine. I didn’t know how to help him, except by doin’ 176

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what he begged me to do, which was leave and meet him at the hospital!” “He never should have gone!” Toasty shouted. “He should have just turned it down!” “Stop it, Toasty! I can’t stand hearing this!” shouted Claudine. Thoughts like this had already been eating away at her, blame and guilt strong enough to make her feel physically ill. “I don’t need you remindin’ me how it’s all me own fault. There only thin’ worse than losin’ Drew and figurin’ out how to live without him is you yellin’ at me in front of the kids, blamin’ me, and actin’ like you’re the only one who has lost Drew. I need you to help me right now, Toasty. I really need your help, we all do, not your blame!’” Stefan appeared next to her, holding up a box of tissues. She took one and wiped her nose and eyes, nodding her thanks. There was a scraping sound coming from the phone again. “Mum, it’s Dempsey,” said a voice finally. “Just come home. We’re needin’ you here. I can’t say don’t worry, but we’ll be better off when you get back home. Granddad will keep things right ‘till you get home. I love you, Mum.” “Oh, Dempsey, I’m so sorry. Thank you for…I’m so sorry. How is Isabella? Is she near?” “Yah, Mum, she’s here. I’ll put her on.” “Mum, is it true? Is Dad gone?” Isabella’s voice was thin. “Yes, sweetheart, he is,” said Claudine, dabbing at her face with a fresh tissue. “He was in a lot o’ pain, and I guess God didn’t want him to suffer anymore. I am so sorry. Please stay with Dempsey and Granddad, and the animals. I’ll be home soon. Your dad would want us to be together, all of us, right now. I love you.” “I love you too, Mum,” said Isabella. *** “Goodbye, Claudine. I am so sorry about everything.” Claudine closed her burning eyes as she hugged Stefan. “Thank you so much, Stefan. You’ve been a huge help.”

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“Here,” he said, handing her a manila folder as they broke apart. “It was still in my car. It’s the papers and other things we were finding in Drew’s hotel room.” Claudine didn’t even remember going through security or boarding her flight. Instead, she found herself buckled into her plane seat, sliding papers out of the manila folder. There was an old family photo and a bunch of certificates inside, along with a piece of hotel stationary. It was Drew’s handwriting. Dear Claudine, I wish I brought you here with me, but I didn’t even think about it. It was arranged so quickly. I guess next time. I wouldn’t have wanted to leave the kids with Toasty, even though he’s good with them. I met my dad today. He is okay, but he feels like a stranger to me. We don’t have much in common. I don’t want to say too much now, maybe things will get better and we’ll become closer. He’s not a patch on our Uncle Tommy and he’ll never hold a candle to your dad either. He’s pretty sick right now and I don’t think he has a lot left in him. I think he still smokes a bit even though he’s got cancer. I hope Toasty has cooled down some by now. Tell your dad that we’ll get back to normal and make the territory strong again. Tell Dempsey that I will train in the ring with him when I get home and tell little Isabella that I can’t wait to get back to my video games with her. She’s got me hooked on them. God bless you, Claudine. I miss you. Love you always. Love Drew XXXXXXXOOOOOO Claudine folded the letter carefully and put it back in the manila envelope. She knew she would treasure it for the rest of her life.

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When Claudine arrived back in Manchester, Toasty picked her up at the airport. They had a quiet ride home from the airport—no accusations or criticisms from Toasty. Claudine couldn’t bear to look at him, so instead she looked out the window and tried to pretend none of this had ever happened. Everything, from her brother’s sunken-in eyes to the clouds scudding ceremonially across the sky, seemed to have an elegiac quality. Finally, she felt the bump of gravel under the car and knew they were driving up her father’s path. Her children were coming of the house. As Toasty’s car came to a stop, Isabella and Dempsey ran to open her car door. They were crying. She caught both of them in her arms. “Dad won’t be in any more pain,” said Isabella finally, her voice muffled. Toasty patted Dempsey on his head. “C’mon, Granddad is all alone. Let’s go inside.” For the next few days, Claudine and the kids stayed at Billy’s house. It was like a circus there. Drew had made a massive, positive impact in the world of wrestling and many people around the world were mourning him. Hundreds of flower arrangements started to arrive from wrestlers, friends, and fans from all around the world. Geronimo sent an encouraging handwritten letter to Dempsey about how proud his father was of him. A huge fruit and cheese basket arrived from the UGA every day for one week. Toasty sneered at that, since according to him, they deserved some blame for Drew’s death. The most elaborate flower arrangements Claudine had ever seen in her life came from two highly respected politicians from Japan who used to wrestle with Drew and Toasty. Less welcome were the reporters who flocked like buzzards to the farm, waiting to harass anyone who walked off of the property. Drew’s death made for an abundance of nasty gossip by less respectable tabloids. Rumours flew that Drew committed suicide, that he had been a druggie, and even that he had been involved with the German underground. Billy and Toasty handled the press and Claudine, Dempsey and Isabella sat in the library reading heartfelt letters from friends and

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fans. People around the world, even those who didn’t personally know Drew, seemed deeply saddened by the family’s loss. All was quiet save the occasional sob until Toasty joined them in the library one afternoon. The room looked like a shrine, with pictures of Drew laid out everywhere. Claudine looked over at them as often as she looked at another sympathy card. Instead of his usual flashy garb, Toasty was dressed grey sweatpants and an old T-shirt. He looked as though he hadn’t showered in days. “Hey, how’s the letter writin’ goin’?” he asked. “Oh, it’s comin’, you know? I get through a few, and then Isabella reads me one or Dempsey shows me a picture of Drew with some fan and I just lose it,” Claudine said, looking at the overwhelming pile of letters. Dempsey and Isabella looked unenthusiastically up at their uncle. “How about I help?” offered Toasty, pulling up a chair and seizing the nearest letter. He was quiet for several minutes. They all seemed occupied with their own sympathy cards. It wasn’t easy, and at this early stage, it wasn’t a form of catharsis for any of them. Drew’s death was still too raw. “Do you remember me tellin’ you not to piss around over there?” Claudine looked up in surprise. Toasty, who had seemed docile a moment ago, now looked ready to spit in her face. “Why did you trust that bastard Karl with Drew? What were you thinkin’? I’d have insisted Karl leave with Stefan and I’d have stayed with Drew ‘til the ambulance got there!” “Yes, I remember, Toasty.” Claudine said. “But Karl knew how to give Drew the morphine. I told you, Drew was beggin’ me to leave! I didn’t know how to help him, except for doin’ what he pleaded me to do, Toasty.” “You and Dad never should have sent him anywhere to wrestle without me, especially not for a bloody month!’ Toasty retorted, ignoring Isabella and Dempsey’s glares. “He should have just turned it down. It’s baffling that you and Drew got so broke that you couldn’t wait for me American tour. We’d have made a fortune, but no one wanted to hear me out!”

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“Toasty, shut up! I can’t stand hearin’ your advice again and again!” Claudine shrieked. Her nose was dripping phlegm and hot tears flowed from her puffy eyes like rain. “Me bad judgement’s left me kids without a father. It’ll never be right. Drew’s death is permanent and I’m responsible for figurin’ things out for us. I’m terrified o’ what’s goin’ to happen now and I’ve already brought us to rock bottom! There’s nothin’ worse, except for sittin’ here being persecuted by you in front o’ me kids! Stop tormenting me! Shut up and leave me alone!” The children hurried to her side. “C’mon Mum. It’s not your fault,” Dempsey said, trying to wipe her face with his T-shirt. “Don’t cry, Mum,” sobbed Isabella as she hugged her mum. She stared accusingly over at her uncle. Toasty finally shook his head and walked out of the room. *** The funeral took place on a Tuesday morning. It was a bright, sunny day. Claudine was getting ready to leave, putting on a beautiful black silk dress Drew had bought her, when the phone rang. “Mrs Bellamy. This is Sergeant Kinnick with the Frankfurt Police.” “Oh.” said Claudine. “Have you found Hagra?” “Unfortunately no,” said the Sergeant. “But I wanted to let you know that Karl Beverly is in jail for Drew’s murder. Our department does not know for certain whether there was someone other than Mr. Beverly in the apartment at time of Drew’s death, but we have reason to believe there was someone else, most likely a woman. But no one except Karl and Drew was found in the flat, and the only fingerprints on the syringes were Karl’s and Drew’s. We don’t have a match on the prints found on elsewhere in the flat.” “Oh, I see,” said Claudine. “That’s not all,” said the Sergeant. “My team searched the whole apartment many times, but they did not find any US money or any envelopes from the UGA. I believe this Hagra drugged both your father and your husband and took the money. The UGA keeps track of the serial numbers of the bills paid to the wrestlers, so we are looking for the ones Drew was getting. Although we have not 181

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mentioned anything publicly, it is not a secret the stolen money is marked. Anyone caught using those marked bills will be brought in for questioning in regards to your husband’s death.” “Thank you,” said Claudine heavily. “Let me know if you find out anythin’ else, please.” The church was packed with politicians, lawyers, footballers, film and TV stars, coaches, fans, and, most conspicuously, massive wrestlers in dark suits and dark glasses to hide their tears. It wasn’t every day that people saw wrestlers cry, but today was an exception. Hundreds of devoted and heartbroken fans lined the streets for miles leading to the funeral home and many stoically held up signs saying things like “RIP Drew” or “Drew Bellamy: Gone, But Not Forgotten.” The family decided they wanted to honour Drew with stories about their experiences with him. Dempsey went first, looking very much like his father in a navy blue suit. He decided not to write anything and just wanted his words to be spontaneous and come immediately from his heart. “It’s already been over a month since me dad left for Germany,” he told the crowd. “I miss him so much already. He was me best friend—we had a bond that nobody else shared. I always thought me dad would see me grow up and finish school and we would wrestle together one day.” Dempsey looked at Claudine and Isabella, who were sitting in the front row with Billy and Toasty. “He was really proud of me and me sister and he was always teachin’ us things to help us live out our dreams. He was proud of me mum, how she trained in the gym with him and how she painted and drew such nice things for our house. “You think it will never happen to you, having someone close to you die, but when it does, a piece of you dies, too. But I know he will always be here, even if I can’t see him. I know I will see me dad again, when he, me granddad and me Nana meet me at Heaven’s Gates. I am so mad at God for taking him away, but I know they needed him. I won’t understand until I’m with me dad again. “Me father was larger than life, truly. He was not a quitter. He never gave up. I am not a quitter and neither is anyone in me family, so me dad will live on through us. Thank you everyone for bein’ here

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for my family, and for each other. Me father would have loved that.” Tears streamed down his face has is took his seat. Isabella’s speech was written out. She held the papers in her hands as she walked up to the podium, wearing a black dress Billy had bought her for the occasion. “When me dad was away on this trip,” she started, “I kept thinkin’ how much I wanted him to come home and crack me toes.” The crowd laughed, grateful for some comic relief. “He used to sit on the couch with me and crack me toes while we watched telly,” she continued. “When me mum called from Germany to tell us our dad was gone, I just kept a strong feelin’ goin’ inside me that he was goin’ to be okay. He was so big and strong, I just knew he was goin’ to somehow make it all right again.” Isabella accepted a tissue from the priest before continuing. Many people in the church were crying openly at her words. “When me mum came back from Germany, me brother and I waited at me Grandfather’s house for her,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion. “I saw me mum get out of the car with a heartbroken look on her face. I said, “Is Dad okay?’ and she didn’t say anything. I asked her, “Is Dad dead?’ and me mum slowly nodded her head. “I couldn’t believe it,” said Isabella, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I lay across my Grandfather’s big chesterfield with his Rottweiler Gracie and cried me eyes out, realisin’ I wouldn’t get to look at him, talk to him, or hug him and kiss him again. “I am going to remember me dad as a good father and a polite, funny, good-natured gentleman who was always nice and helpful to anybody,” she said, holding her head high. “Me dad was the kind of dad who let me and Dempsey do almost anythin.’ He would let us miss school to go to the cinemas with him, which most dads don’t do. He was like a big kid, I think that’s why we got along so well.” Isabella dabbed at her own eyes and looked at the hundreds of people gathered in the church. “I want to thank you all for comin,’” she said. “Me dad would be so happy all of you came. I still don’t know what caused this, but if me dad died in his sleep, I am happy he was peaceful and not sufferin’. Me father is up in heaven now and

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watchin’ down on all of you with a big smile on his face. He is an angel now, with no more pain.” The audience broke out into a round of applause in appreciation for this Isabella’s beautiful tribute to her father. She shyly went to sit down, stopping to hug her uncle Toasty, who was on his way up to speak. Usually dressed in flashy silks and custom-made jackets, today Toasty was wearing a black suit and a plain white shirt. His eyes were red and puffy from crying. “I spent more time with Drew than I did with anyone else in me whole life,” he said into the microphone. “It was a privilege to be his best friend. I remember the first day I met Drew at the farm. For years I hid the secret love story between me sister and Drew and I was glad when they finally got hitched and it didn’t have to be a secret anymore,” he said to general applause. “Me mum was, and me dad is, so proud of the beautiful grandchildren Drew and Claudine gave them. I truly admire Isabella and her courage in facing this tragedy and Drew and me dad and I were lookin’ forward to developing Dempsey a great wrestler. Drew, I promise I will do that for you. I hope to look after me nephew and niece and the rest of me family in ways that me mum Louisa and Drew would want.” Toasty spoke for several minutes about his partnership with Drew, bringing some of his favourite wrestling matches back to life with colourful and vivid descriptions. “Now, I know me partner had some really bad injuries,” he said finally, “but had it not been for the diabolical characters who mishandled Drew when he was in Frankfurt, he might not have been so grossly neglected. Poor Drew was abused over there by a person who promised him he really cared about him. I won’t taint this day by talking about the negative, but that pair in Frankfurt, those bastards… but…” Toasty shook his head. “Yes, our Drew was too trustin’ for his own good and that was NOT a flaw in his character. To me, Drew was me brother and he was perfect. I am going to miss him. I already have been, since the day he left for Frankfurt. Thank you,” said Toasty, wiping away the tears that began to roll down his face and under his chin.

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Claudine got up to speak, clutching note cards and a handkerchief in her fist. She had never liked public speaking, but she wanted to do this for Drew. Toasty gave her an encouraging pat on the shoulder as she passed him on her way up. “Thank you, Toasty. Thank you Dempsey and Isabella,” Claudine said, trying hard to keep her voice from shaking. “We are all among friends here today and I know Drew would be proud he had so many friends. We are all quite accustomed to the pleasures and hardships of wrestlin.’ It has taken us all a long way and I am so glad for the valuable memories and great things we have known, like Drew, because of wrestlin.’” The note cards dropped to the podium, forgotten, as Claudine spoke her mind. “Everythin’ and everyone has its bad times, that’s part of life, part of what makes us who we are,” she said, unable to control her tears. “I just wish it didn’t have to happen to Drew this way. He was such a good man. He deserved so much better than goin’ the way he did.” There was a general murmur of consent from the crowd. “I remember he was so determined to do well in Germany and come back here to get right back to wrestlin’ with Toasty, right back to me and me dad and our children. He asked about the kids all the time. He loved wrestlin’ so much, but he always missed his family when he was away. It was strange for him, I know it, to be away for a month without any of us, not even Toasty. “But he felt great comfort in going to meet his biological father, whom he never knew past his first week of life,” she said. She was feeling strangely hot in her silk dress. “His mum and dad, dear Tommy and Tracy Bellamy, who have both passed away, adopted and raised Drew like he was their own son, from when he was practically a new born baby and they protected Drew from reunitin’ with that man. They obviously had good reason to shelter him. I don’t honestly know whether this man, responsible for this tragedy, really cared to ever see Drew again, until he found out about him being on this big show in Germany.

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“Anyway, I don’t want to dwell on that. But I do know that when I found Drew over in Frankfurt, he was lost, so lost. I don’t know how he got so far out in such a short amount of time, but he was bein’ taken care of by the wrong person over there. And for those of you who don’t know what I mean, I’m talking about Drew’s biological father. Irony again is when Drew found out his birth father was still alive, but dyin’, Drew wanted to take care of him and let him live out the few months in peace. And yet, this horrible, dying man, only wanted Drew’s money, even if it meant killing him for it. What kind of a man would kill his own son and such a fine son he was too!” Claudine was losing her composure. She paused, swallowing hard and wiping her nose. The tears would not stop. Her handkerchief was soaked. Father Roberts stepped nearer to her, but Claudine looked at him. “I’m all right. I just have to finish this,” she whispered, her throat burning. She went back to her note cards to finish her speech. “Drew was such a good man,” she said. “He had such a huge warm and loving heart. And now, nothin’ will ever be the way Drew devotedly planned it all to be for us left here. He might be here with us, like Dempsey and Isabella said, in this room, feelin’ sad that we are all so heartbroken, but he cannot kiss me or Dempsey or Isabella and help ease our pain. We cannot reach out and touch him, as much as we wish we could. But I have to believe he is watchin’ over all of us. I just have to believe he is with me mum, his dad Tommy, his mum Tracy and his biological mum, Sylvia. At this young age, he barely got to enjoy what he worked so hard for because his life was cut too short. Drew had plans to do so much more with his life and for the people he loved in his life. He was so much fun and so generous. I was completely smitten with him.” Claudine paused again. She wiped her eyes, and grabbed the podium tighter. Sobs echoed through the church. “I won’t keep you, this is hard for everyone, and I know Drew would be so pleased to see how many friends came to say goodbye and be here for each other. Thank you.”

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Father Bishop helped her back to her seat as the lights were turned down and a wonderful tribute about Drew’s life began to play on the big screen behind the podium. Claudine was shaking. Dempsey and Isabella made room for her between them and hugged her from either side. Claudine could hear the attendees crying, laughing, and enjoying the montage, but she couldn’t see through her tears to see it herself. Toni Orr, a female reporter who had once interviewed Drew and Claudine, had contacted her about putting the montage together just days before the funeral. Claudine had thought it was a nice idea and given her the go-ahead. Now, she cried and listened as Drew said touching things about his in-laws, his wrestling partner, and his family. “Me daughter Isabella is beautiful and I can really see her becoming a proper film star one day, but definitely not a wrestler,” laughed Drew. “Our Dempsey, he’s goin’ to be a wrestler. He’s already a big lad and he’s not even a teenager yet. You should see the size of his calves! I’ve got absolutely fantastic kids. I’ve got an absolutely gorgeous wife, inside and out, and I have a great life. Toasty and Claudine are me best friends. Toasty watches me back and Claudine scratches it.” It was a sentimental tribute to Drew, except for the final bizarre minute of the montage. It consisted of generic dance music that played while Toni Orr’s company logo flashed over and over again in rhythm to the disco beat. It actually stopped Claudine’s tears as, puzzled, she focused her eyes on the images of fireworks, the Rocket Productions company logo, and finally, the words, “With Love, Toni, Ernie and the Lot!” As the guests, somewhat perplexed by the last moment of Drew’s video tribute, left the church, the song “American Trilogy” sung by Elvis Presley, played on a repeating loop. It was one of Drew’s favourites and Claudine and her children had chosen it for the occasion. The song helped see the procession ended on a dignified note as dear friends and family filed out of the church into a dozen limousines that drove them up to the Bonham farm.

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In the car on the way to the farm, Claudine looked at her beautiful children’s tear-stained faces. She was so proud of them. Her heart burned when she thought how they had been terribly robbed of the protection, love, and wisdom they deserved, wanted and needed from their dear father. Claudine closed her eyes and thought back to the day Drew stood up for her at the Public Baths. How she despised Karl Beverly and his poisonous nurse Hagra. “How big do you think Dad’s angel wings are?” Claudine opened her eyes. Isabella was looking intently at Dempsey. “Well, his wings would have to be massive, right?” said Dempsey. “I bet he’s the biggest angel ever.” Claudine laughed despite herself and put her arms around her children. She knew this experience would have toughened up an average heart, just like a hardened cauliflower ear. But Claudine and her children didn’t have average hearts. Drew never would have wanted to see any of them with a cauliflower heart.

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The Cauliflower Heart trilogy contines.. Wrestling for Life coming soon

1 Step Out From the Routine Billy Bonham sat in his kitchen, waiting for the tea to steep. He could hear the rustling of papers from Claudine in the dining room, where she was sharing the big table with Jersey, the indulged Seal Point Siamese cat, and a huge heap of sympathy cards and letters from Drew’s friends and fans. Toasty ambled in. “Do you think she’s all right?” Billy asked him. “I see a look in her that I used to see in your mum. It worries me.” “Well, I suppose she’s overwhelmed with the mail, with everything. What’s her plan, do you know, Dad?” asked Toasty as he poured the hot tea over the tea strainer into a cup already waiting with a spoonful of honey. He tapped the tea strainer upside down, delivering the leaves back into the hot pot with the rest of the tea. “I don’t think she knows herself,” replied Billy. “What if she did office work for the IWF, like Mum? She’s plenty capable. She took care of lots of Drew’s business as best as anybody could.” “Dad, as much as I’d like to help Claudine, I don’t want to repeat what happened with Mom,” said Toasty, filling more cups with tea. “You know how much she hated working for the IWF. I always wanted to, but I don’t think it’s right for our Claudine. We would clash and be at each other’s throats.”

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“Be that as it may, I wish we could do summat,” sighed Billy, putting his elbows on the table and leaning his head stoically in his big, scarred hands. “I think she’s doin’ a good job of keepin’ herself distracted, but I worry about her all the same. Not sure what she’s goin’ to do. I hope we can find something for her, to help her take care of the kids. Aside from this house and the business, I’ve got not much left. I hope we can turn business around so I have some money to leave her. Poor old Drew. What a shame for them all.” Billy’s brilliant blue eyes, the eyes that all of his children and grandchildren shared, had a faraway look in them as he gazed sadly at his daughter. Happy voices carried in from the next room as Dempsey and Isabella came in from upstairs, greeting their mother with hugs and smiles. Dempsey was just fourteen, Isabella had just turned twelve. It was so young to be without a father. Toasty grabbed the four cups of tea, two in each of his giant hands, and left his father sitting in the kitchen. He gave Claudine and the kids each a cup of tea and sat down at the dining room table. His eyes widened as he looked at all the mail Claudine was reading. “I’m trying to answer all of these. Handwritten mail is best for this kind of mail and each one needs a personal touch. And a bit of cat fur too,” Claudine said as she brushed away a few of Figaro’s fine hairs from her latest letter. “I can help answer some of these too, Mum, if you want to give me any of them,” offered Isabella. She elbowed Dempsey, who was looking off into space. “Er, I can help too, o’ course!” Dempsey said, with a sheepish smile at his sister. Though Dempsey was already twice the size of his slight sister, she was never afraid to show him who was boss. Toasty noticed a few stamps with foreign writing on them. “If you get any letters from the South Seas or Japan, I’d be more than happy to help you with them lot,” he said. “It might even help me get some more work over there, if I write the right people. And I might know some of the fans from over there. I could thank them for you.” Billy came into the dining room, deep in thought as he listened to the conversation. He knew his daughter and her kids needed a lot more than help answering fan mail. He would have to work on Toasty.

Presently, Toasty showed limited patience and few solutions for his widowed sister’s misfortune. Billy remembered how he and Toasty fought and how Toasty fought with Drew and even with his mum, over having the final say in the day-to-day running of the wrestling business. Billy hoped the promotion would turn around and he would be able to leave his daughter some money when he died—he didn’t trust that his hot-headed son would be as generous with sharing when he took control of the wheel. Toasty would always be a driven, passionate leader of the IWF after he passed, Billy knew, but he didn’t know that his son would always be compassionate. But for today, they were going to think about just being in the present, not worry about tomorrow or what might have been. It was good for all of them to be together, enjoying a cup of tea in Billy’s dining room, cats and dogs included. Jeep the Rottweiler weaved through the table legs to sit next to Billy’s feet. Claudine ran her pen down Figaro’s back, making him arch and purr. Brrring. The impatient telephone rang from the kitchen. Everyone looked at each other, not wanting to stand up. Brring. “Oh, all right,” said Claudine, standing up and stretching her arms up in the air. She walked into the kitchen and picked up the phone off the wall. “Hallo?” said Claudine. “Hi, is this Claudine?” said a high-pitched voice. “Yes,” said Claudine. She was momentarily worried that the bill collectors had somehow gotten hold of her father’s phone number. “Hey there, old girl! It’s Toni!” said the caller, to Claudine’s intense relief. “I’ve been thinking about you, luv. I tried you at your house but you weren’t there, so I thought I’d try your dad’s place. How have you been?” Toni was a reporter that Claudine had met several years ago when she was doing an interview with Drew. More recently, she had kindly volunteered to make a video montage for Drew’s funeral. ...to be continued...

Diana Hart Trainer, writer, and artist Diana Hart was born into Stu and Helen Hart’s legendary pro wrestling family in 1963 in Calgary, Alberta, Canada.

Photo by Jordan Gooden

Diana studied Fine Arts at the University of Calgary before performing in the WWE (World Wrestling Entertainment), then known as The WWF (World Wrestling Federation) alongside her late husband Davey Boy Smith (The British Bulldog), late brother Owen Hart, and brother Bret Hitman Hart. In 2001, whilst based in Tampa, Florida, Diana’s autobiography Under The Mat made Alberta’s top ten nonfiction bestseller list. She has two children, Harry, who wrestles all over the world as Davey Boy Smith Jr, and Georgia, an actress and voice over artist based in England. Diana now resides back home, in Calgary. For more information visit www.OfficialDianaHart.com