Yo-yo's Weekend

PART.

  Aunty Latch had cried. The pipe had puttered. Lily had squealed. Katze had ground his teeth. Yo-yo, dressed in a green corduroy trouser-suit, had gazed admiringly at his mother, Venus Periwinkle, who could sweep into a crowded room and be noticed immediately. She had long, slender legs and luscious, chestnut hair which seemed to glow with inner vitality. Even at someone else's wedding she had effortlessly attracted the attention of everyone present. That day she had worn a lime-green and lemon chiffon dress with a pastel-peach scarf and matching feathery hat which resembled an explosion on a parrot farm.

  ''I liked that dress,'' Baby says wistfully.

  ''Me too,'' says Yo-yo. ''I buried her in it.''

  ''Anyhow,'' says Baby, ''Remember when Mildew was worried about getting Lollipop to the Registry Office 'cos she wouldn't get out of bed? He couldn't figure out how to get her there without hiring some lads to wheel the bed ... remember what you said?''

  ''Come at it from a different angle,'' Yo-yo murmurs.

  ''Right,'' says Baby, ''A different angle. Use your imagination. And because we couldn't get her to the Registry Office, we brought the Registry Office to her.'' Fifty people had somehow squeezed into the Lollipop Chamber.

  ''What are you saying?'' says Yo-yo.

  ''Truss has your ring. He won't bring it back. The cops are trapped. So you go and get it.''

  ''But they know who I am,'' says Yo-yo.

  ''Go in disguise,'' Baby suggests. ''Use your imagination. When all else fails, use your imagination.''

  ''I'll just wash my hair,'' says Yo-yo, sliding back under the water. Maybe the mermaid will still be there. He slithers through the weeds once again, pausing to speak to one he knows.

  Weed: Hi Yo-yo.

  Yo-Yo: Hi Weed. How's tricks?

  Weed: Still alive, worse luck. You?

  Yo-yo: Aye, still breathing. Family well?

  Weed: Daughter's got engaged.

  Yo-yo: Nice.

  Weed: (Sharply) He's a layabout. Hanging around the pier all day. Chatting up pebbles and tickling fish.

  Yo-yo: Your daughter must see something in him.

  Weed: Aye. Lovely long fronds and a black tattoo.

  Yo-yo: (Clearing his throat) Harrumph. Seen Stone lately?

  Weed: Yeah. Still depressed. Had a fight with one of them there nudibranches

  the other day. One o' your uncle's. An' he's coming back…

  Yo-yo: Oh.

  From the corner of his eye he spots Chris seeping into view. ''S'pose I'd better get him back,'' he says. ''See you, Weed.'' As the Weed waves goodbye, he swims towards the sea-slug, still hoping for the mermaid's return.

  H

  he bubbles, but there's no fishy-tailed, massively-mammaried mermaid. Just a sea-slug called Chris. Sod it. He resurfaces into the bathroom and rinses the lather from his limbs. Will he never get lucky?

  ''No, mate,'' quacks the duck. ''You're quackers. You're only 13.'' Yo-yo tosses him back on the bath-mat.