Our Night pt 7

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.