As I got back, the atmosphere had changed. It was quiet; no-one was talking. “I’ve not upset you that much, have I?” I asked.
“No. It’s just him,” Mick said, pointing to Jamie. Jamie was usually the quiet one. He didn’t normally have many words to say about anything. Well, not until he’d had some drink inside him; then you couldn’t shut him up. You had to watch him, though. He could fall over at any time, especially after 10 o’clock and five pints.
“What’s the matter with you lot?” Billy asked as he joined us from the bar. “Looks like the most beautiful girl in town has been chatting to you, then when you thought you were in with a chance, her superstar boyfriend walked in behind her.. Did you miss me so much while I was at the bar?” he asked.
“It’s this comedian here,” Tom said. “He really knows how to cheer everybody up. Go on, tell him. He might as well be as miserable as the rest of us.”
“It was nowt, really,” Jamie started to explain. “It’s just been a crap week and I’m ready for a good night out to cheer me up. A bloke I used to work with has gone missing. He’s about forty years old and has two kids and a wife. He just up’t sticks and left. He set off for work in the morning and nobody’s seen him since. Then a bloke I know down at the gym’s going to get laid off in a couple of weeks, and then to top it all …”
“…to top it all, I feel like topping myself after that,” Billy said.
“… to top it all,” Jamie continued, ignoring Billy’s outburst, “a woman at work found out her daughter, who’s only sixteen and just started at Sixth Form College, got pregnant.”
“Do you know, it’s only twenty to eight and I’m right fed up. Thanks a lot, mate, for cheering us all up,” Billy said.
“So,” Mick asked Billy, “how come you’ve still got that great big smile? Did you manage to get away without paying again?”
“How’d you guess?” Billy answered. “Same barmaid as last time, let me have a bottle for the price of a half. All I have to do is see her when the pub shuts.”
“And are you?” Jamie asked.
“Well, that depends on whether I get a better offer or not.”
“So, you’ll definitely be back here later on then,” Tom said, laughing,
“Alright, very funny. At least I’ve got a chance of pulling tonight.”
“Aye, no chance. She’ll get better offers, working behind that bar,” I said.
“It’ll be her loss,” Billy said. “Come on anyway, it’s time we got old misery over there to part with his money.”
“What do you mean? I always pay my round,” Jamie blurted out right on cue.
“How’d he know we were talking about him?” asked Billy with a smile.
“Where is it, then? Black Lion?” I asked.
“Mattie, you should know it is,” Mick said. “We have to stick to the same route. I told you on the way down it hadn’t changed.”
“Yeah, it’s the only way Mick’ll know where we are. He’d get lost otherwise,” teased Billy.
“No, you’re all wrong,” I added. “From what I remember, it was Jamie’s idea, and if you notice, he always works it so his round comes in the cheapest bar.”
“Don’t pick on me, I always get my round in,” Jamie pleaded again.
“Aye, only in t’cheapest bars. Nobody can find you when we get in the dearer ones,” Tom replied.
I ran over to Jamie and pretended to cuddle him. “Oh, leave him alone. He’s starting to get upset now!”
“Get off, you daft bleeder!” he said.
We finished our drinks, put the empty glasses on a table with others that had been discarded, and headed towards the door and the streets outside, which were getting busier. There were several groups of people, made up in many different ways: all male, all female, old, young and a mixture of all of them, wandering about along the main shopping precinct, all with the same intentions: meet friends, drink, have fun. Others had extra hopes, most of which wouldn’t be realised by the end of the night. Nobody cared, as long as the night and whatever it brought took them away from the mundanity of their everyday lives. For those lucky enough to be working, this could be a boring, meaningless, poorly paid or highly stressful job. Or, for those in the minority who actually enjoyed what they did from eight ’til five and beyond, during the rest of the week. Then there were those who had troubles and worries hidden behind the doors of their homes. For many, Friday night was their escape, the recharging of their batteries and the gateway to their Eden, the weekend! Worries eased, problems didn’t seem as traumatic, and life seemed much rosier through the bottom of an empty glass or bottle.
This was a strange northern town, one of the oldest in the country; a medieval market town. It had seen many changes in industry through its development. Some very opulent times, but more years of decline and struggle as one industry had died and another was waiting to boom. Wiredrawing, tanning, cotton mills, glass and coal, all major industries at some time; all declining or gone, leaving a trail of poverty and uncertainty. Unfortunately, this was another of those times. Its latest industry had been wiped out by successive governments. Only, this time, there was no sign of a new industry; little hope for the next generation. Another reason why people made the most of this Friday night comfort. A growing number of drinkers had led to a larger-than-usual number of pubs and bars in the town, making it a popular place for the drinkers in the County. Due to the increased numbers, noise, litter, and disruption, not everybody approved. But for me and my friends, it certainly meant there was always somewhere to go on Friday nights!
Laughing and joking, we wandered across the paved square to the first on our list: The Black Lion. I couldn’t help noticing the couples in the square, laughing and joking as well, but also holding hands, exchanging kisses. That had been me once. Me and Tina. Not on a Friday night – that was always lads’ night – but most Saturday nights. Sometimes we’d gone out of town to a country pub. That was if Dad would lend me the car.
“Forget her. You’re out with us tonight. Relax and enjoy,” Mick’s quiet voice interrupted my thoughts, bringing me back to the present.
“You two. Come on. We’ll never get anywhere at your pace,” Billy said. Same sentiment, different approach.
* * *
” So, you and Tina went into town on Saturday nights, eh?” Rosie’s dry voice interrupts. “I’m surprised I never saw you.” Although it could be annoying, I do like it when she interrupts me. Somehow it seems as though she’s listening, more alert and part of the story telling. There have been other times, more so recently, when she’s just laid there and doesn’t say anything. On those occasions, it’s felt as though I was talking to myself.
“We weren’t in town every Saturday,” I replied.
“No, other times you were out in the country at some posh pub eating, probably,” she teases. “It was ages before you took me out to a country pub.”
“Are you going to let me get on with this story or not?” I ask.
“Get on with it then, Mr Grumpy. You know I’m having a good day today, and you’re not going to get the better of me,” she gloats. “Where did you go next?”
“The Black Lion,” I say.
“That was an old, dirty, smelly place. It always surprised me that people went in…”
“Rosie, sweetheart, please let me continue,” I say, almost pleading. A sly smile spreads across her face, the smile that has melted my heart for over thirty years now bringing tears to my eyes not knowing how much longer I will be able to see it. She’s right. The Black Lion was one of the oldest pubs in town …
Man on a bike. 