Man on a bike.

While Billy and Tom finished playing on the machines – no luck, this time – Jamie, Mick and me stood and watched them. Occasionally I looked across to where Rosie was sitting. We finished our drinks and put the empty glasses down,  then walked out, almost quietly, the drink not having had its full effect yet, but certainly making everyone feel a little more relaxed. It’s a funny feeling, Friday night, warm, sun shining, bit of alcohol and no work the next day!

Coming out of the bar onto the street, the amount of people had increased. People were walking about, some starting their nights, others going on to their next drinks. The town square was getting fuller.

“Has anybody seen Mick?” I asked, looking round.

“There he goes,” shouted Billy upon noticing Mick moving at a much greater pace than the rest of us, as though he hadn’t had a drink all week. “It’s the only time he moves faster than a snail. Oi, Mick, we’re not going to the White Swan this week,” Billy continued. “We thought we’d try that new bar down the arcade. They say it’s a better atmosphere with a load more ladies in, and the music’s better.”

“If it’s that good, it’ll still be there when we come out of the Swan. It’s my round in here. Always has been, always will be,” Mick shouted back.

“Yeah. Cheapest beer in town. Always has been, always will be,” Tom joined in.

“And that’s because it’s the worst and always will be,” Jamie added.

“If you’re going to mess about, I’ll see you in there,” Mick shouted back as he disappeared round the corner at the bottom of the road. Heads turned, trying to see what was happening and where all the shouting was coming from. We let Mick go ahead and get served. He was right; he had always bought the drinks in that pub. Not sure how it had started. Possibly as soon as he’d realised they were cheaper than anywhere else. He made sure he got to the bar before the rest of us.

The White Swan had to be the dirtiest pub in town. It didn’t look as though it had been decorated since the day it had opened. The carpet was sticky from years of beer being spilt, discarded chewing gum, and old cigarette burns. It was difficult to tell what the colour of the carpet might have been. The furniture wasn’t much better: old, torn, battered and dirty. The only people who sat on it were those who had never been in before!

Why did we go in every week? Well, that was a good question. It was the first pub we’d all been in together. It was also the next place on the way to the more populated, loud and trendy places in town. As well as that, it was one of the few places where you didn’t have to fight your way to the bar and where you could have a conversation without having to shout over the music. Oh, and yes, it was cheap!

As we got round the corner, we could still see Mick up ahead.

“Look at him go,” Billy said.

 “Don’t worry, no-one will get there before you,” Tom shouted after him. “We all know you have to get them in here.”

Ignoring us, Mick continued until he got to the doors, where the bouncers let him in.

“Tom, do you remember that time your mate from work, Johnny, came out with us and really upset Mick?” I asked everyone.

“Oh yeah,” Tom answered. “He didn’t know about Mick’s unwritten rule, that he has to get the drinks in here, so he ran off to get his round in early. Big mistake.”

“It really looked as though Mick was going to cry,” added Jamie.

“I know, his eyes started to fill up. He was shaking at one point,” I said.

“He tried to give Johnny the money so he could say he’d bought the round,” Jamie said.

“That wasn’t too bad,” Billy said. “It was when he started begging and following him round the pub holding the money out,” he continued, sniggering, “and then that old man walked past and nearly took it out of his hand.” We all laughed at the memory.

“He pestered him all the time we were in, and halfway up to the next pub,” Tom continued.

“Come to think of it, I don’t think Johnny’s been out with us since, has he?” asked Billy.

“He’s been a couple of times,” Jamie answered.

“But he joins us after we’ve been in here,” Tom said.

“I was talking to a mate of his, Al, the other day,” I said. “He’d been in town with Johnny, and he told me that when he got near here, a glazed look came on his face, and he started shaking. He refused to go in and went off to the next pub by himself.”

As we approached the entrance, the two bouncers standing outside opened the door for us without a word or a smile. When entering the White Swan, there were two things you noticed straightaway, and an additional one that visitors needed to be wary of.

The first thing that hit you was the smell: smoke and stale beer, with a hint of sweat. Even though it was still early in the night, and there hadn’t been many people in, the smell had built up over the years. No-one remembered it ever being decorated or even cleaned.

The next thing was the darkness. A lot of the pubs in town were dark, especially the older ones, but this was by far the darkest. The lights in the main interior were dim at best, most of the light coming from the brighter bulbs behind and over the bar. As a result, there were many corners and spaces where drinkers could hide if they didn’t want to be seen.

What was there to be wary of? The carpet! If anyone stood in the same place for too long, their shoes would stick to it. Years of spilt drinks, setting and hardening. It was easy to spot newcomers; they were the ones who found themselves sticking to the carpet. Those who had been going in regularly had perfected the ‘White Swan’ dance, moving from one foot to the other every few minutes.

We walked in and found our usual spot, which was easy enough, as there weren’t many people in. Never was at this time. It did get busier as the night went on. Looking around, we could just about make out another group of lads at the far end of the bar, a group of girls sitting in a corner, and a canoodling couple using one of the dark corners to hide themselves from the rest of us and from other people entering.

Mick started to walk towards us, carrying all five drinks as if they were as precious and fragile as a new-born baby. An amazing skill. As he reached us, Tom took a drink from him then helped pass the others around. Mick was left holding an extra drink.  

“Where’s Billy? I’ve still got his drink,” he asked. We all looked round, but Billy was nowhere to be seen.

“I’m sure he came in with us,” I said.

“Oi, over here,” Billy’s voice whispered. We all looked round again, trying to locate the owner of the voice. “Behind the fruit machine in the corner. Somebody bring my drink.”

“Pack it in and come and get it,” Jamie said.

“I can’t. He’ll see me,” Billy said.

“Who? What are you talking about?” I asked.

“Him over there in the corner, trying to hide with that lass,” he explained.

“What about him? I’m surprised you can see him in here, it’s that dark,” Mick said.

“I can see him, so he’ll be able to see me.”

“What’s the problem? Why don’t you want him to see you?” I asked again.

“He’s after me…”

“Most people are!” said Mick.

“No, listen,” Billy started to explain. “Two weeks ago, I went to a concert with his sister and a few others from the office. Nothing serious, but he thought I was taking her out for real. Warned me if I hurt her, he’d get me. I didn’t take her out after that, and he found out. Thinks I was leading her on. Oh, and the blokes at work told me he’s a nasty piece of work with a bad reputation.”

“It could only happen to Billy,” I said.

“They were probably just winding you up,” Tom joined in.

“No. They were being pretty serious, for a change,” Billy said.

“Come on, let’s sup up and get out of here before he’s seen,” Tom suggested.

“Be quick about it,” Billy said from his hiding place. “Let’s get out before he decides to leave. Knowing my luck, he’ll come out at the same time as us.” Billy put his glass down quickly and quietly before turning, looking in the direction of his tormentor and sneaking towards the door before we could come up with an escape plan.

We quickly finished our drinks and followed Billy. As the door opened and we stepped out into the cool quietness of the summer evening, another group were coming in. Strange, but even in the middle of town, after a couple of drinks, and on a Friday night, everybody waited to get in or out, aware that other groups had their own routes and routines. Billy was first out, constantly checking over his shoulder, expecting the hidden couple to be leaving at any moment and see him. But what he didn’t see was the group coming towards us from the pub across the road. It consisted of a large, round bloke, full of hair and smoking. He was followed by four others, smaller than him, walking behind him, laughing and pointing at Billy. They looked like smaller versions of their ‘leader’.

“Oi! Billy! I hoped I’d see you tonight. Somebody told me you’d been after my bird again. Thought I’d told you to keep your filthy hands off.” A booming voice stopped us in our joyful escape. We all turned at the same time. Billy froze. We could see the colour drain from his face.

“What’s he done now?” Mick asked.

It appeared as though Billy didn’t know which way to turn or run, towards this new threat or back to the previous threat. Stuttering, he managed to get some words out of his mouth. “Oh! … Hey up, Ian. Having a good time?”

“Wasn’t until now, but it’s just about to get a whole lot better! Now I can have some real fun!”

“Hang on,” Billy pleaded, “if this is about your Nichola, I haven’t seen her for weeks, and I’ve never been anywhere with her, honest!”

“That’s not what I’ve heard. She wasn’t with me last Wednesday. Where were you?” Ian asked.

“That’s our five-a-side night, isn’t it, Billy?” Jamie interrupted quickly, hoping Billy would realise what he was doing.

“No way, Jamie! He doesn’t play football, everybody knows that,” Ian said. “But I tell you what,” he turned around and grabbed Billy by the throat, “I’m going to play football tonight, and he’s going to be the ball!”

“Hang on Ian, mate,” Tom interrupted before the beating started. “Jamie’s right. Billy did play five-a-side last week. I couldn’t get there, so he took my place. Worst thing I did. My team hadn’t lost in the league until he played, then they lost every game. And, even worse, it was the first time Jamie scored.”

“Yeah, cracker it was,” Jamie joined in. “First time volley, top c…”

“Shut it,” the irritated and unamused loud voice of Ian interrupted him. “I don’t want to know about a fucking goal. I want to know about him and my bird.”

“But Jamie’s right, I was rubbish,” Billy protested as best he could with a big, hairy hand round his throat.

Ian looked at Billy, then Jamie, then Tom. He let go of Billy with enough force to leave him gasping for breath and lying in a heap on the floor.

“I’ll believe you lot this time,” he growled through gritted teeth, “but if I get to know you’ve been lying, me and my mates will have the lot of you! Understand?”

“Yeah! Yeah! We understand,” we all muttered, almost together.

“Right! Get going. Come on, lads. I’m thirsty again!” he said, turning round and marching off with his gang following behind him, still laughing and pointing at Billy, nearly knocking a group of girls into the road.

“You alright, Billy?” Mick asked as he helped Billy up.

“Yeah, fine, thanks, mate. Aye, and thanks to you two. I thought I’d had it then,” he said croakily.

“Billy, you weren’t playing five-a-side with us, so where were you?” Jamie asked.

“Ah well! I wasn’t with Nichola either, that’s for certain. But I’m not telling you where I was.”

“Aww, come on. You must have been. He wouldn’t be after you like that if you hadn’t,” Mick said.

“No. I swear, I haven’t seen her for ages. Well, not since the last time he caught me,” Billy said.

“And you expect us to believe that?” I asked. “We’re used to you and your stories. Especially when it comes to trying to cover your tracks and using us to sort it out for you.”

“Yeah, I do. Right set of mates you are. Don’t believe me? Right, that’s it.” he stormed off.

“Billy, come back. I believe you. I know you couldn’t have been with her,” Tom shouted after him.

Billy stopped and turned round.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I know you couldn’t have been with her,” Tom repeated.

“Go on then, how?” Billy asked.

“Because I was!”

“What?” Billy said.

“No, it’s true.”

“Really?”

“Yeah!”

“Well, you sneaky bastard!” Billy shouted. They both turned round and started laughing. The rest of us joined in shaking our heads in disbelief.

“Billy,” I said, “how come we haven’t been in town long and you’ve already got two thugs chasing you?”

“That might be because my boyish charm and good looks always get me into trouble and people don’t understand me,” he answered.

Mick interrupted, “No, it’s ‘cos he’s a cheating, lying windup merchant.” With that, he turned and marched off to the next bar. The rest of us looked at each other, shrugged our shoulders and followed.

Tom and Jamie were already there when we walked into the “Travellers”, or, to give it its proper name, “Three Travellers”, which made us the five travellers. It was a long, narrow bar in two parts. The first was at the entrance near the doors and windows looking out onto the street. The second was further down towards the back. This part was darker and quieter, with most people preferring the lighter, wider space in the front. Billy walked straight over to Tom and Jamie. Mick and I followed. They were standing next to a table in the middle. We rarely, if ever, sat down.

Jamie was training to be a quantity surveyor. He hadn’t known what to do after leaving school, messed around for a while taking whatever job he could get. Worked in a baker’s, then a butcher’s (he made some lovely apple pies and steak pies), and had several jobs in bars before settling for that job. Nobody knew how or why. One day, he’d said he fancied doing it, so he’d gone along to one of the firms in the next town, who’d offered to train him. It was all rather strange. He hadn’t qualified yet, but he seemed to enjoy it. Not that he’d talked about it often. He was quiet and looked and acted as though he had the whole world on his shoulders. You would have described him as average in every way; height, weight, looks. He didn’t stand out, was just part of the group. His main interests were the local football team (along with Mick) and music; music of any kind, but mainly rock and blues from the seventies.

 Then there was Tom. He’d have liked to be a professional escort – not the ones who show people around places – although he had more chance of doing that then the other type. Tom was working at the main garage in town. He’d gone there straight from school, finished his training and stayed. He was good at it too, and always looked after his mates. He’d helped Jamie get a car and do it up so it ran really well. I think he thought of himself being in that scene from Grease where they customised the car and raced it. It was probably the thought of being wrapped in cling-film that appealed the most. He was tall and slim, not quite an athlete’s physique, mainly because he didn’t like exercise other than the five-a-side football he played once a week. Along with Billy, he was one of those annoying types who could eat and drink anything, anytime and never gain weight or look overweight. It is true that he was the best looking of us and had the most charm. He also wore the best clothes, nearly always something new and the best designer labels available in the town; shirt and trousers, rarely jeans, and if he did wear jeans, they were the best available brands.

That left me. First class layabout, my dad would have said; never had a proper job. I suppose in a way he was right. I’d gone into sixth form not really knowing what to do. I’d passed some A levels and then got fed up with education, so I’d found a few jobs here and there. Worked with Mick for a while doing some labouring. It wasn’t too bad in the summer; rubbish in the winter, though. I’d helped in the garage with Tom for a while, same as Jamie. After a few months odd jobbing and listening to my dad moaning at me, I’d decided it was time to go to university, where I was now, about to start the final year of a Law degree. I was doing okay and should get through it all right. I already had some feelers out for joining practices when I finished. Some months it got tricky for money, but I had managed to save something from the jobs I’d done, and Mam and Dad had been supportive and patient. My dad kept saying he couldn’t wait for all the money these solicitors earned to start coming into the house!

As I said before, Billy and me were about the same height and smaller than the others. I did think of myself as the most athletic. I had played some football and cricket in the local leagues for the pub team before I’d started to get injured too easily, then tried running. I’d taken part in the town’s six-mile road race. Never expected to get near the faster runners, but got a decent time. Other than that, nothing special. Plain and ordinary. Nothing to make me appeal to the opposite sex.

So that was the five of us. We’d seen things and been places, mostly together. Of course, we’d had our fallings out, but we’d always been there for each other. We all worked hard through the week and looked forward to our Friday nights in town, drinking, laughing, having fun and forgetting the cares, troubles, stresses and strains of yet another week earning money for somebody else. All good fun until morning, when you tried to wake up and had a bad head, memory loss and regrets! Well, here goes … …

As we walked towards Tom and Jamie, Billy said, “Nah then, you two. Look what we’ve got here.” They both looked round. I wasn’t sure what they expected to see, but I didn’t think it was me.

“What? All I can see is Mattie,” Tom said.

“Hey up Mattie. Good to see you again,” Jamie added.

“Hey up lads, thought I’d give it a try. See if the route’s changed, or the jokes have improved,” I said.

“No to both,” Jamie replied.

Suddenly Tom took a deep breath and started coughing, loudly, “What the bloody hell is that smell? It’s like a Turkish brothel. Is it you, Mattie?”

“That’s no way to greet your mates,” Mick defended me, again.

“I don’t care. It’s horrible.”

“I haven’t been in town for a few weeks, and this is how you welcome me! If you’re talking about this expensive aftershave I’ve got on, then it must be. Anyway, how many Turkish brothels have you been in?” I asked Tom.

“Expensive?! You’d have been better off shaving in the dog’s bath water,” Tom said.

“And explain this,” Billy said. “Why put on an old shirt if you’re going to wear expensive after shave?”

“Hang on. Are you all trying to make up for the weeks I’ve not been here?” I asked.

“Don’t worry, we’ll leave you alone now. That is, for now. We’ll carry on later,” Tom said.

“It’s good to see you all as well. I suppose I’m going to have to get some drinks,” I said.

“You were last in. Last in gets the drinks,” Billy said.

It had started already! I’d thought they might have left me alone for a while, but then again, no. I wouldn’t have expected nor wanted it any other way. At least they weren’t avoiding trying to wind me up, which would have been unusual. I made my way to the bar to get the drinks for Billy, Mick and me; Jamie and Tom still had drinks. Billy followed me. At this time of night, it was quiet and easy to get served. First drinks didn’t count in our round, which started in the next pub.

While I ordered the drinks, Billy was talking to one of the girls behind the bar. Suddenly, he shouted over to me, “Mattie, don’t bother getting me a drink; I’m sorted,” a wide smile across his face. He never changed. I got a drink for me and Mick, then headed off back to the others, leaving Billy at the bar.

The third part of my first novello.

“After all the trouble she caused you,” Mam said. “I know what I’d say. And you, Jack, you should know better. Just watch what you’re saying.”

Dad just pulled a face.

“Now everyone’s miserable, it’s time to get out of here and get some drinking done,” Billy said.

“Go on,” Mam said. “Get yourselves out. Go and enjoy yourselves while you can.”  She turned to Mick. “Look after him.”

“No worries, Mrs Grey. He’ll be all right when he gets with all of us and has a couple of drinks,” Mick reassured her.

“Come on then, let’s go. See you, Mr Grey,” Billy said. As we walked up the path, he started singing, “It’s Friday night. I’ve got a pocketful of money. I feel fine. And I’m ready to party!”

While we were walking away, I could hear Mam saying something to my dad. “Glad he’s going out He’s not been out much since … well, you know. Billy and Michael will look after him. He’s lucky to have good friends like that.”

“What, that Billy?” Dad said. “He’s nothing but a wind-up merchant.”

“That he might be,” Mam said, “but his heart’s in the right place.” I turned round, smiled and waved, then walked off with my two friends.

Mick and Billy were probably my best mates. We’d grown up together, went to infant school and then the juniors together. Our local authority had abolished the eleven plus, an exam for children in their last year of junior school which acted as a selection for grammar school. Those who didn’t pass went to the local comprehensive school, or secondary modern as it was known. Me and Mick had passed and gone to the grammar school, but Billy had failed and went to the comprehensive school. That was where Tom and Jamie came in. Billy had met them there. They didn’t live too far away, so we used to meet in the park, ride our bikes, play football or just sit and chat. We’d been a gang of five ever since, and best mates for a long time. We wound each other up, always (well, nearly always) good-natured banter, some might say; others who didn’t know us would describe it differently. We’d been through a load of weird situations. But, as with all true friends, we always looked after each other, no matter what was said or done.

Mick, he worked hard at avoiding work. Even, so he would have done anything to help anyone, not just his friends. He was a bricklayer; finished his apprenticeship at one of the local builders, then thought it’d be easier, and he’d get more money, if he worked for himself, so he tried to set up his own bricklaying and plastering firm. Did all right through the summer, but he didn’t like the cold, so he’d only work in the winter if he’d got really desperate for money. He was the biggest of us all, in more ways than one – tall and overweight, though not by much, he would’ve argued. He had his dark brown hair longer than the rest of us, pale green eyes and a sort of roundish face. Fashion wasn’t an interest of his. He preferred cars and football, especially the local team, which he went to watch most weekends with Jamie. He was probably the kindest and most mild-mannered person anyone would want to meet. Nothing seemed to bother him. He never looked for trouble, but somehow it seemed to find him. There were always those idiots who saw the size of him and wanted to cause trouble. He never succumbed. As he would say, “It pisses them off more when I ignore them and walk away.” He was also the tightest, meanest, penny-pinching so-and-so you’re ever likely to meet.

 Billy was the total opposite in every way. The same height as myself, and we were the smallest, so he always tried to persuade people he was at least half an inch taller than me! He was also the thinnest. Nobody knew how or why, as he could eat more than the rest of us put together. ‘Wiry and athletic’, he would have described himself. Not sure about athletic, as any physical activity made him poorly. He worked in an accountant’s – at least, he was training to be one. Dad said he would never let him near his accounts. Strange, really; a bloke so disorganised and ready to play the joker, working in a profession where you have to be very organised and focussed. Billy always thought of himself as the joker, which he was. But at times, his joking got him into trouble, not only with other people, but with the rest of us. It led to some serious fallings out, but we always forgave him. There was never any real malice intended. He just never knew when to stop and often went too far. But we knew this and put up with it. After all, he was one of us, and he was quick to apologise if he upset anyone. He did look younger than he was; boyish looks which nearly always meant people forgave him quicker.

Since my break-up, they’d been around and kept me company, forcing me out a few times, just like tonight, but this was the first time in town. Mick and Jamie followed the local football team. They’d got me to go to a few games towards the end of the season. But the way they’d played, I’m not sure it helped. They’d only just avoided relegation.

It was a short walk into town and the pub where we would meet Tom and Jamie. As we walked, the conversation naturally turned to the night out and what might happen.

“I reckon Jamie and Tom will be there by now,” Billy said, “especially as it took Mattie so long to get ready.”

“It was you two and my mother who made me change my shirt. I was ready,” I said defensively.

“For what you changed it to, you might as well have kept the other one on,” Billy said.

“Come on. Leave him alone,” Mick joined in, supporting me, as he always seemed to be doing those days.

“Do you still go the same route?” I asked, hoping to change the subject.

“You know we do. Won’t ever change,” Billy answered. “What with Jamie in the Black Lion, Mick in the White Swan and Tom in the Ship. Only way the route will change is if they knock those pubs down.”

“I didn’t think it would have,” I said.

“Nothing much else has changed either,” Mick said. “Tom still thinks he’s going to get a girl in every pub we go in. Never does, though.”

“He nearly did last time I was out. I even think he walked her to the taxis,” I said.

Billy started laughing. “Oh, yeah. That was a good one. He bought her some drinks in the nightclub and supper from Imran’s Chippy. Went to the taxi. He thought he was in luck when she let him get in with her. When it got to her house she jumped out and legged it. He’s never seen her since.”

“And has Jamie cheered up, or at least livened up?” I asked, trying to catch up on any changes I might have missed.

“No, just the same,” Mick replied. “He might have more to say if you are out with us.”

As we approached the pub, Billy ran ahead of me and Mick. “Hurry up you, two. Last one in gets the drinks,” he shouted. As he turned to open the door, he nearly knocked over two girls who were coming out.

“Stupid pillock,” Mick said under his breath.