7pm

"Come in and have a glass of champers, Den" said Philip Stiffit.

"…nis Brent. I will if you don’t mind."

"I was hoping you’d pop round" he babbled while pouring me a small glass of champaign. I bet he was lying - more likely he was hoping I’d have failed in our challenge and that I’d be lying low while he swanked around. But he underestimated me and I was there to get satisfaction.

"Oh?" I queried, giving him chance to air his lies.

"I thought it would be nice for us to have a drink and… well… last night was rather special."

"Yes – I was wanting to talk about last night."

"Do you fancy some nibbles?"

"Yes" I said, intending it this time. Say what you will about how smug, smarmy, obnoxious, populist, good looking, charming, shameless and profligate he was, Philip Stiffit knew how to lay on some satisfying nibbles. I look a liberal handful of nuts and a liberal handful of twiglets. The latter I secreted in a small bag that I carry in my inside pocket for precisely such a situation.

"Did you get up to much last night" he asked, making small talk and casting glances at Miss Bobbins (who was also present).

"Yes" I told him. I recounted my adventures as accurately as I could.

"Golly" cooed Miss Bobbins. "That was almost close to being slightly exciting. We just stayed in and watched DVDs and took drugs."

"Anyway" said Philip Stiffit, keen to change the subject, "now that you’re here, Den, I think it’s time for some good news."

"Yes and it’s all my good news, Philip Stiffit" I declared. "You believed that I couldn’t go a whole day only saying Yes. You were so convinced that you wagered a ludicrous sum of money, confident in the belief that you would succeed and I would fail. But I didn’t fail – I managed it. I win."

"What?" he said. "Oh right. That. Didn’t you see my note? I popped fifty quid through your letter box at about eleven o’clock last night. Felicity asked me if I liked Mexican Spicy Bovril and Anchovy Pringles and I said No. I realised as soon as I’d said it that I’d cocked it right up. Oh well – no harm done. That was about ten minutes after you were arrested. I felt like such a berk."

"Ten min… You mean I… even though… because you’d already…?"

"Yup."

"Ak."

"Are you all right, Den?"

"…nis Brent. No – I’m not all right. I’ve suffered indignities, I’ve committed crimes, I’ve scooped infant effluent, I’ve been humiliated, I’ve been banned from the Shopco Megaplex, I’ve spent money recklessly, I’ve not slept in thirty six hours and it was all for nought thanks to some Pringles?"

"Yup. Still, easy come, easy go."

"I feel faint – I fear I may collapse."

"You’re already lying on the floor, Den."

"…nis Brent. Am I? Oh right. That would explain the hard surface beneath my spine. I feared I was being molested by a wardrobe."

"Are you ok, Dennis Brent?" asked Miss Bobbins.

"I think the champaign must’ve gone to his head" said Philip Stiffit. "Get him a small glass of sherry – much more his cup of tea. Better still, get him a cup of tea."

"I like tea" I babbled. "I had tea with a prostitute thanks to you."

"Nice one" he said in that laddish way that so appals people (including me). He patted my shoulder in a friendly way.

"She was a better person than you are" I added. "I’ve seen your idea of a pie chart and it is amateurish compared with hers."

"Tea" squeaked Miss Bobbins. "Shall I be mother?"

She poured me a cup of nicely weak tea and I felt better almost immediately. I took two biscuits from the plate – one for me and one for my secret bag – and inwardly pondered events. I may have been to hell and back but I still had fifty pounds waiting for me back at Brent Towers and nothing to stop me getting back there at last.

"Anyway, as I was saying, Den, I’ve got some news for you."

"Is it that Peter Davison is returning to Doctor Who? If so, I knew about it days ago."

"No – nothing like that."

"Is it anything to do with the rumour that CC TV cameras will be introduced in the BBC’s underground script archive reading room as if for some reason they have grounds to suspect that some other telehistorians might be doing some over-eager researching?"

"No way – that was my idea actually. Gotta protect the archive so that one day everyone can enjoy them."

"Ak" I spluttered again but Miss Bobbins caught me in time. I landed on top of her in a most indelicate way.

"I do apologise" I stammered.

"Is that a sonic screwdriver in your pocket or are you just awfully pleased to see me?" she joked.

"Actually it’s a roll of high density a-n-a-l wadding" I explained. She blushed at her own mistake and tried to hide behind Philip Stiffit. "I carry it around in case of…"

"Yes thank you, Den."

"…nis Brent."

"I was trying to tell you something. Something really exciting."

"Don’t tell me DWAT have finally elected a new club secretary?"

"No. God. Shut up about bloody Doctor Who for a moment will you? There’s more to life than television."

"A…"

"And don’t say ‘ak’ and fall over again. Or say ‘ak’ and try to get a crafty grope of my fiancé."

"I wouldn’t dream of… your what?"

"That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Last night I asked Flicky to marry me and she said she would."

"But she’s my lodger – surely you should’ve asked my permission first."

"Anyway, the wedding is next August and I was wondering…"

"Oh very well" I said, "I have a speech that I used at my Uncle Gaylord’s wake which I think I could reuse as best man. I’d have to remove the cremation joke but I’m sure I can wing it."

"…if you might let us hold the reception at Brent Towers. I’d hold it here but I’ve got some pretty valuable items and it would be a shame to let Flicky’s side of the family loose near them."

"You don’t want me to be best man?"

"I’ve already asked Ian. He said he’d love to do it. Actually, I was wondering if you might…"

"Give Miss Bobbins away?"

"No."

"Organise the entire event with my trademark precision planning?"

"No."

"Surely you can’t want me to perform the ceremony?"

"No."

"Then what do you want me to do?"

"I’d really appreciate it… we’d really appreciate it… if you’d stay in a hotel overnight so you don’t meet either of our families."

I considered his request and took the greatest of pleasure in saying…

"No."