Chapter 2 - Homeward Bound

Matt climbed from the car onto North Street outside the red, flaking door of 123. It felt strange to be back. The sun was shining, but the wind bit heavily, whipping around his bright shirt, which he had managed to get cheap at Primark. At last he was to become part of the legend of 123. The events of the previous years were ingrained in the minds of those there. The kidnappings, the affairs, the hair-pulling violence. And now he was to be a true part of this Christian household. Campbell and James emerged from the door to greet him, opening the boot and taking hold of some of the boxes that were stored there.
"Morning, Henry," Matt called into the living room as he stumbled past with a bumper pack of Yorkshire tea.
"Uh, oh, hi Matt, didn't know you were back today," he replied.
"I emailed four or five times," Matt told him.
"Did you, oh right, er, do you need a hand bringing stuff up?"
"Yeah, that'd be great, thanks."
Matt continued up the stairs to his room. Over the course of the following twenty minutes Cambell, James, Matt and his Dad struggled up and down stairs with boxes, the odd suitcase and various bits and bats. Finally, just as everything was in Matt's room, Henry emerged from the living room.
"So, er, what needs carrying?" he asked.
Later, as Matt and his Dad sat in the exact same seats as Henry and James had done just the previous day, the latter expressed his concern regarding Henry's choice of dress. He was even further concerned as Grotbag, the witch from CITV, walked in and cried "Oh, you're Matt!"
Matt looked up in alarm. What was an ex-children's television character doing shouting his name?
"Hey, ugly, get me a sandwich!" she shouted at poor Ethel in a strange Northern Irish-Canadian hybrid langauge that was barely understandable. She sat down beside Matt's dad, telling him to "shift up".
"Erm, Grotbag, is that you?" asked Matt, tentitavly.
"Who are you calling a grotbag?" asked the witch.
"Erm, I mean, who are you, and how do you know me?"
"I'm Lydia, I know you through Holly."
"Oh, right," stammered Matt, nervously. "Have you heard the news?"
"What news might that be, Matt?" she asked.
"Me and Holly are getting married."
Lydia wrinkled her nose as though a bad smell had entered the room, which was a coincidence, as Matt had, a few moments earlier, slipped off his trainers. "What?" she asked.
"We're, we're getting married," he replied.
"I've got to go and tell the girls," said Lydia, then, shouting to Ethel as she stood up "Wrinkly, I'll have that sandwich to go", she grabbed the sandwich sat on the counter, which was in fact intended for a poor elderly lady sat in the corner, and hurried out with a swish of her tweed jacket and a clack of her stilletos.
Matt's dad left St. Andrews a rather concerened man.

Chapter 1 - Dangling Conversation

James and Henry sat in the cosy little Ladyhead Café. The place was usually busy with pensioners and students eating lunch at this time of day, but it was, strangely, empty. Strangely, that is, until it is considered that Henry was wearing only a nappy and did, in fact, appear naked given that his sheilded loins were hidden beneath the green, wooden table. Ethel, usually joyful in her daily work behind the counter, was nervously stood in the corner, averting her eyes and desperatly hoping the vicar wouldn't walk in. Who knows what he would say, she might even lose her position as chief sandwich maker. But she knew that, however strange the pair might appear, the Lord loved them, and so she let them stay in the hope that they might somehow be converted, a hope that died away as she watched a CU member stroll in and hand them a freshers' week flier.
"What's it say, Henry?" asked James, peering over the top of the sheet of paper.
"Games on the beach, with a talk from special guest, 'Why the Trinity is like a set of wickets,'" replied Henry, reaching to put it into his pocket before realising he didn't have one. There were, Henry concluded once again as he pushed the flier inside the nappy alongside his pen, wallet, a chocolate bar and the obvious, downsides to wearing next to nothing.
"How's preparation for the link group Kung Fu Kick 'Em freshers' week tournement going?" James asked, playing with his pink dyed hair.
"The committee took some convincing, but after Jim and me told them we'd use it as an analogy for the Protestant role against Catholics they gave us their blessing."
The conversation was cut off as James recieved a text message, his mouth falling open as he read it.
"Oh man," he said, "I don't believe it. Matt's getting married."
"To who?" asked Henry.
"Holly, of course."
"Man, that's like, really soon. They've only been going out a few months."
"And it's not like we can say they're doing it for the usual motives Christians have for rushed marriages."
"What are they?" asked Henry, innocently.
"You know..." hinted James. Henry could only shrug his shoulders in response. "You know..." repeated James, nudging Henry from across the table. Henry shook his head. "You know... sex," hissed James.
Ethel turned round with her head in her hands and groaned.
"What? You mean, people actually do that?" replied Henry.
"What, have sex?"
No, I mean, kinda, get married quickly so they can... you know... do it?"
"Yeah. Why else do you think people rush into it?"
"Man, I didn't know. But do you think... Matt and Holly?"
"No. Do you think so?"
"I don't know."
Ethel didn't like the way the conversation at the boys' table was heading and decided to call a holt to it.
"Erm, excuse me, I'm sorry boys, but the café will soon be getting quite busy and I'm afriad we're going to need your table," she said, diplomatically. "So as you've finished eating, would you mind leaving the table for our other customers?"
Henry and James glanced around at the deserted room and stood up, heading for the counter.
Jame pulled his wallet out of his pocket, but Henry said he'd pay, pulled forward the front of his nappy and began rummaging around trying to find some change, causing Ethel to once again avert her eyes.
When Henry finally held out a handful of coins Ethel decided that that day it would be her treat and, having ushered them out, she turned the sign on the door to CLOSED and went into the back to lie down. Thank God the vicar hadn't come.