Chapter 19 - Jim, Tuesday

The day got off to a bit of a sluggish start - a late night to start the week is never a good idea, but having Simon round was the right thing to do. He’s always found it a bit difficult to make friends, so those of us he has have to really look out for him. I hope he’ll be okay, although to be honest a change of job might do him good, if the shock of losing the one he has doesn’t throw him over the edge. I phoned him this morning to see how he was and he sounded fairly normal. Well, as normal as a depressed closet case Mummy’s boy about to lose his job could sound.
I had a pretty productive morning at work, putting the finishing touches to the stuff I’d done yesterday. I reworked some of the report, then sent it round the office to accumulate comments and criticism. I felt pretty pleased with myself, I’d done a good job, and touch wood there’s nothing serious anyone should want to change. It’s good to get a big job done, and it made me remember why I actually took the job in the first place.
In fact I’ve noticed that I generally feeling more positive about everything this week. I wonder if I’ve turned a corner about the Maria thing? I was thinking about it at lunchtime. I went out to get some fresh air, and just walk around the streets for a bit. I wasn’t even properly hungry, so lunch ended up being a cake - something unnecessarily creamy and foolish looking. Anyway, I decided it might be time to get back in touch with her. Yes, I know we’d agreed a sixty day cooling off period - she’d read it in some ‘how to survive a break-up’ kind of book. The idea is that you have no contact with the person you’ve split up with for sixty days, giving you time to heal and start to mend your life. I went along with it because I had no option really. I mean, I was the one who was unfaithful, so I was in no position to demand anything. Sounds like bollocks to me, although I must admit I haven’t wanted to see her. Not the her now. I’ve missed the old Maria, but not the new one who threw things at me and called me all the names she could muster, who broke my stuff and beat me, who broke my heart when she left and took all the nice things from the house.
Bt now I wonder how she is? I wonder if she’s okay? I wouldn’t dare phone her friends, they’d never tell me anyway. I don’t even think some of them liked me when things were good, let alone now. Funny that, as some of my friends never liked Maria - why were we such a great couple and yet no one else could see it? Except could we have been that great a couple if I went and slept with someone else? It never occurred to me, but it was one of the things Maria screamed at me when she found out. God I was such a twat.
But I’m not so stupid as to think she’d ever come back. I know I’ve blown it, and I feel like I ought to tell her that. I don’t want her abiding memory of me to be that I’m some kind of fuckwit. I want her to know that I’ve worked things out and realise that I’m wrong. I want her to know that I’m properly sorry, and not just the sorry I said I was to make her stop throwing things.
So I decided to write to her. Yes, I know it breaks her sixty day rule, but she doesn’t have to read it if she doesn’t want to. She’ll recognise the writing so she’s unlikely to open it by mistake. But it’s bullshit as well, as if she’s going to get a letter and not open it! There’s always the chance that she might just burn it, but I guess it’s a chance I’ll have to take. Anyway, I took advantage of the fact that things were quiet at work to start it. I really only intended to make a few notes but once I started it all poured, and by the time everyone else started to leave I’d written pages on an A4 pad. Bits of it were illegible, too much crossing out and bits added, but I think I’d managed to get out everything I’d wanted to say. I decided to take it home and reread it, and maybe rewrite it, but certainly not post it, possibly never post it. I was one of those cathartic things that felt good to do, but needed sleeping on.
As I left my manager shouted to me from his office, “Good report Jim! Nice work!”, which sent me out of the building with a spring in my step. Turns out it was a good day! But what to do for the evening? Me and the cat again? Love him as I did it just seemed like a waste. Surely there was more to life than that? But my options were limited - pub? Not on my own. Restaurant? Ditto. Was it too late to round up some friends? I think it was too late in many ways - I’d drifted apart from most of them when I was with Maria, and it’d be just too predictable to get in touch with them now she’s gone. I did email Nick earlier in the day, as I’d been thinking about him since I saw Simon yesterday, but he never replied. I guess he could have been at work, or out already. There was always Gay Dave, but I didn’t have his number at work. So me and the cat it was! Lucky cat!
But if I’m staying in for the evening I ought to do it in comfort, so I stopped in at the supermarket to get some supplies - nice food? Check. Cake and wine? Of course! A DVD to watch later, and a CD to play whilst I cooked? Good idea. Even the cat got something nice. I nearly whistled I was feeling so content.
I got home and the message light was flashing on the answer machine. For a brief moment I wondered if it might be Maria, but as soon as I pressed play I realised the voice wasn’t hers:

“Hey stranger, it’s Dave. I heard about you and Maria, sorry about that, hope you’re doing okay. Anyway, the reason for the call was just to see if you’d remembered it was Simon’s birthday on Thursday. I’d completely forgotten, but it is. He’s been a bit down lately, so I thought we ought to make an effort to get together and do something. Will you ring me and let me know if you can? Cheers mate.”
Oh fuck, it’s Simon’s birthday. Just like Dave I’d completely forgotten, and Simon wasn’t likely to remind anyone - he preferred no fuss at all, but he’d have been gutted if we’d forgotten. Especially with all the work stuff going on as well. Blimey, just as well Dave phoned.
I unpacked the shopping, said “hello” to the cat, who seems to have been sulking with me since Simon was here, then phoned Dave back. It was good to speak to him, he’s always so cheery it’s infectious. Of course he still behaves like a big kid, he really never has grown up. I wish he’d settle down, I’d like to see what that would do to him - I think it would be good for him, and then maybe he could get on with something extraordinary, instead of that wasting away in that office then shagging his way through the evenings.
Anyway, once we’d swapped news we talked about Simon - he’d not heard the redundancy news, and it kind of threw him. We were clearly going to have to think more carefully about what we were going to do. He really might not be in the mood to do anything at all, so Dave agreed to give him a call and make a few suggestions. Besides, it’s on Thursday - a slightly awkward night to go out, although I’m of the opinion that it doesn’t matter if you turn up to work on Friday feeling like shit - it’s like dress-down Friday for the mind. We decided to speak again the following day, then I headed off to enjoy my evening.
As my risotto slowly bubbled on the hob I reread the letter I’d written. Yes, some of it sounded a little mad. Not psychotic, just slightly unhinged. Well, who wouldn’t be when their girlfriend had left them? But I decided against rewriting it. She’d recognise the spirit it was written in I hoped, assuming she read it at all. But it was only after I’d put it in an envelope that I realised I wasn’t sure where she was. She hadn’t wanted me to contact her, so she hadn’t told me where she was going. I hadn’t been worried as I still had her mobile number if I needed to get in touch, but this was a bit of a disaster. One glass of wine later I decided that the only thing to do was to send it to her at work. It’s the way I could guarantee it’d get to her - her friends couldn’t necessarily be trusted to pass it on, so I’d have to risk her wrath and send it there.
Decision made it was time to settle down for the evening. The food turned out to be surprisingly good - I’ve clearly got my appetite back! Then the cat joined me, full of posh cat food and wanting his belly rubbed, and we settled down to watch a DVD like some married couple. I didn’t even feel the need for a spliff, although the wine bottle was never far from my reach…

Chapter 18 - Simon, Tuesday

I lost it a bit yesterday.

Of course the news came as no surprise - there’d been rumours of redundancies going round the building for weeks, but then again there had been for about the last seven years and it’d only ever happened once before. Nobody really thought it was going to happen. Yes, we’d been going through a bad patch, but these things often pass as quickly as they came. But apparently not.
After Clive had made his little speech and left the room the rest of us just sat there in silence. Then one of the girls burst into tears and another followed pretty quickly after that. People sat where they were not really knowing what to do. Then it became obvious that no one was going to come back and tell us what to do, so we realised we might as well leave. As I headed for the door one of the boys from the phone room said, “thanks for the warning Simon”, then he muttered under his breath, “wanker”. I thought I’d imagined it at first and stopped briefly in case he said it again. Instead he waved his hand to illustrate what he’d just said, so I turned round and fled. How dare he! What made him think I knew any more than he did? And even if I did why did he think I might tell him? Ok, I know we’re all in shock and want to hit out at something, but did it have to be me?
I got back to the office and was just in shock. Cheeky little fucker had upset me more than the whole redundancy news. I hope he gets it first. And I hope one day someone does the same thing to him so he can see how it feels. Little cunt. Before I realised it there were tears streaming down my face. Fucking hell, I always promised myself I’d never cry at work, it’s not worth it I wiped the tears across my face, in case anybody came past and saw me - although why I even cared what these people thought I’ve no idea. They clearly didn’t like me, so why should I pretend anymore that I can tolerate them?
I had to get out, but the thought of going back to the flat didn’t appeal. Misery loves company? Not really, I just wanted someone to tell me it’d be alright, even if it wouldn’t. I went over the likeliest candidates in my mind, and finally settled on Jim as the best bet - he was the person least likely to have any plans, and the most sympathetic too. We made plans to meet at a local pub, although I was in such a hurry to get away that I got there ages before him.
We spent a couple of hours in the pub - he listened to me complaining about how undervalued I felt, and didn’t even attempt to sidetrack the conversation to talk about him and Maria. We got a bit pissed to be honest as neither of us had eaten, so we got take-away and went back to his. I haven’t been round in ages - I never really liked Maria, so I avoided them a bit when they were a couple, although sometimes it was impossible and I think I went to his last birthday party, which they held in the flat. It looked a lot more like a bachelor pad than I remembered - not much furniture, nothing soft or decorative about it. I guess that kind of stuff and been Maria’s, and clearly she’d taken it with her. Not that bloody cat though. Thankfully he steered clear of me, which is just as well.
I know I outstayed my welcome, but I just didn’t want to go home. John would have been there, and I doubt he’d have had any sympathy. He’d have probably been pissed in front of the TV if as he’d not been working all day, and it would have just been another reminder of how shit my life is right now. But eventually Jim practically threw me out. I don’t blame him, it was far too late and I’d not said anything for ages so I was hardly sparkling company.
Thankfully by the time I got in John had gone to bed, although he’d left me a note to say Mum had phoned three times wondering how I was, or more likely where I was. Oh God I suppose I’ll have to tell her. Must I? She just take it as another thing that’s sent to try her, forgetting immediately that’s it’s actually me who could be out of work soon!

This morning I woke up feeling like shit. I hardly felt like I’d slept and could have done with the rest of the day in bed, but now was not the time to start throwing a sicky! John was banging around the kitchen in what sounded like his pre-work routine, so I pulled the duvet over my head until he left then got ready and headed to work myself.
As soon as I got in the building you could feel something had changed. There was an unusual quietness about the place, but also an unbearable tension. Everyone was being extremely polite, but no one was really saying anything. I headed straight to my office, not bothering to put my head round the phone room door and wish them ‘good morning’. On my desk was a memo - it was a timetable for the discussions with management. Mine’s tomorrow, which means a day and a half of worrying about what to say, but it also means several days of worrying afterwards - there’s no good time for these things I guess. But I can’t wait for it all to be over.
There was also another memo from the management briefing us on how to talk about the whole affair if we were asked about it - under no circumstances are we to use the word ‘redundancy’ - apparently people are being ‘rationalised’ or ‘reassigned’. Yeah right, tell that to the person who suddenly loses their livelihood! I hate that ridiculous corporate speak that uses words you think you know it a way that separates them from any real meaning,. It’s quite a talent, and clearly our management have that talent in spades. Wankers.

Halfway through the morning one of the girls from the phone room knocked on the door with a cup of coffee. They never make me coffee, I prefer everyone to fend for themselves, and I don’t like people doing things for me. So I guessed she wanted a chat, and asked her to sit down. I wanted to find out what the mood was like around the office, but more importantly if anyone else felt I’d behaved badly. By all accounts it sounds like they’re pretty subdued, and when I made the point that it’s been a shock to me as well she said she knew that, she’d seen it from my face. So I felt a bit better - no one likes the thought of being disliked - but under the circumstances not that much better. They’ve all got discussions today, so I guess they’re starting at the bottom and working their way up, although I wonder how far up they’ll go? Not much further than me I guess.

Mum finally tracked me down just before lunch, so I told her what had happened knowing that I had the perfect excuse to stop talking if I had to - work. She made just as much fuss as I’d expected, before launching into a speech about how they’d never let me go, the place would fall apart without me. Hmmm, I don’t think so. And even if I did go I’d easily find something else. Again, I don’t think so. I know it was her job to say this stuff, but it really didn’t help, and part of me wished she’d just said, “well Simon, you’re fucked aren’t you”. Why don’t I have that kind of mother?

On my way to lunch I bumped into Neil, who looked a little shaken. I’m not surprised - as Head of Sales it’s partly his fault we’re in this mess in the first place. And I’d heard that the Sales boys had really kicked off when they had the news broken to them. As we went down the stairs together he invited me to go for a drink, something he wouldn’t normally do in a million years, and for a brief moment I almost felt sorry enough for him to say yes. But then I remembered how much his posse made my life a misery and made my excuses and left.
I couldn’t work out what to do, I certainly wasn’t feeling hungry - I’d only left the office to get away from the oppressive atmosphere. So I ended up wandering down towards the shops. It seemed stupid to buy anything with the future looking so uncertain. Yes, I knew I’d get a decent pay off, but who knew how long that would have to last me? So I window-shopped a bit, which always bores me. I toyed with the idea of stealing something, but those kind of places are always littered with CCTV and you can’t move without someone watching you.
Then just as I was about to head back for work I popped into the toilet for a pee. As I stood there having I pee I noticed the bloke beside me was behaving a bit oddly. In fact he hadn’t been beside me before, he’d moved nearer. And he was peering at my cock and waving his. Oh God, that’s all I needed, someone cottaging in their lunch break and hitting on me. Was I giving off some invisible gay signal? Or is he just so desperate he’ll try anybody? But what do you do? I don’t know the etiquette for these kind of situations. Should I politely decline? In the end I just finished peeing, did my zip up and headed for the sinks, and as I did I distinctly heard the bloke say, “suit yourself love, didn’t fancy yours much anyway.” God, everyone’s got it in for me lately!

Chapter 17 - Nick, Tuesday

I like Tuesday. Tuesday is always a good day, and not just because it’s a day off. And bizarrely although it is my day off I’m still up early to go swimming at 7am. It started ages ago, when a couple of us from work decided we need to get fit. We lasted about two visits to the gym, realising almost immediately that we were just too lazy. The other options were pretty limited, although I did end up biking to work for a while, but it seemed a bit pointless as I can walk it in twenty minutes and get a bus in ten if it rains or when I can‘t be bothered. I was resigned to the fact that I’m a lazy boy when someone suggested swimming. At first the idea of getting up so damned early seemed really stupid, but after a couple of weeks I realised I was enjoying it and even went when no one else would. It’s the perfect time to go really - there are no kids, it’s just the hardcore swimmers who want to do lengths, and lots of them. I can’t keep up with them, pottering along with my old lady breast stroke, but it’s not a race anyway. By the time I hit the shower at eight I’m wide awake and feeling good in my own body, ready for anything really. Often that anything will comprise nothing more exciting than an immediate return to bed, but the whole thing never fails to make me feel better about myself.

But a return to bed isn’t on the cards today, even if it’s what I’d likely to do most. And judging by the looks I was getting from the bloke under the shower next to me I don’t think it would have been difficult to find some company, not that I wanted any. No, I’ve got a full day planned, although it’s only full of good things like lunch and a film. But before all that I must get Simon a birthday present. Yeah, I know his birthday is on Thursday, but he’s such a nightmare to buy for that I’ve been putting it off. It doesn’t help that we rarely see each other, and when we do we rub each other up the wrong way! He texted me last night, although it didn’t make much sense, some badly spelt nonsense about nobody liking him anyway. I just texted him back and said to ring me when he was sober if he wanted a chat. He won’t.

I nipped home to drop my swimming stuff off, then jumped on a bus and headed into town. Of course it’s commuter time so the bus was full of people hiding behind papers, and the traffic is hardly moving. But I’m in no hurry and it’s fun to daydream. I must confess that since Saturday night my thoughts have kept returning to Big Ben and that snog we had. He hasn’t been at work since, I don’t think we’re on the same shifts until Thursday, and I’m strangely excited about seeing him. I know it was a drunken kiss, and that I’m twice his age. I know he’s too young to settle down, but I also know that he’s gorgeous and it was a great kiss, and you can’t get enough of those! The only problem is the other Ben - he trails after Big Ben like a sad puppy, and I think he’d be gutted it someone else stole his ideal man. Poor Ben. Actually, poor me, I’m probably just as bad.

By the time the bus got into town I’d spent far too long working out ways to get Big Ben alone and naked. I may have dwelled on the naked bit a bit more than was necessary on public transport, but it’s been a while so it’s understandable that I’m slightly eager. First stop Starbucks - I can’t face those shops without something to get me going. None of that skinny latte shit for me - hot chocolate with cream if you don’t mind, and a chocolate muffin to go with it! I sat in the window reading a paper that someone else had left behind, watching the world go by and marvelling at how all men in big cities now look gay. Of course they’re not, but they’re groomed and gorgeous in a way that people used to only think us gays could be. Makes a day shopping a lot more fun, although it’s bloody tricky to know who’s on your team!

OK, full of sugar and fat, so it was time to hit those shops. Where to begin? It’s not like he has any hobbies, or if he does he keeps them to himself. Who knows, he might be a secret stamp collector for all I know, but somehow it seems unlikely. The thing he loves above all else is books. Sometimes I think he likes books more than he likes people. It sounds odd to say it, but I fear it may be true. Of course I’ve no idea what he’s read recently or not, so I guess I could buy him book tokens, but honestly vouchers are the most unimaginative present! Still, every shopping trip needs a reserve plan and this is mine. Onwards!

Two hours later I was literally on the verge of pulling my hair out! The more I trudged round the shops the more I was reminded that I don’t know my brother at all. I toyed with buying him some clothes, a nice shirt maybe, something to make him look a bit younger and more modern. But then I couldn’t say with confidence what size he’d wear. Of course I should have just phoned Mum but she’d have interfered and told me what I should buy him instead. Inevitably I wandered into HMV - there must be something for everyone in there - who doesn’t like music or films? Nobody! Certainly not me, which is why I left with five CDs. Frankly I got away lightly, I could easily have doubled that amount, and that’s without starting on the DVDs! I did have the beginning of an idea for Simon - there was a cartoon he was obsessed with as a child, which I can’t remember the name of. Need to wrack my brains a bit, or research it online. It was his favourite for years anyway, and I thought it might remind him of when we were young, when life was easier, and remind him that I was there then too. Sentimental twat. I should phone Jim, he’d remember that kind of thing. Actually I should just phone Jim anyway.

I don’t really know how it happened. One minute I was looking at shirts, the next I had a pair of shoes in my hand and was queuing at the till! I was like I blacked out. Except I didn’t, it was a shoe frenzy! The stupid thing is I already have a pair like it, but not in suede, so obviously I needed these quite urgently! And at £15 they were quite the bargain. Yes, I know it doesn’t get me any nearer a gift for Simon, but it certainly put the spring back in my step!

I think I’m going to get him a shirt. Book tokens are just lazy, I might as well just give him the money, although that’s even lazier. So I braved a phone call to Mum and got away quite lightly. I got the impression she was in the middle of something, so she just answered my question without stopping to find out why I was asking it in the first place. I did get summoned for tea on Thursday though, which will be a bit of a rush as I’m at work till three, but it won’t kill me to make the effort. So, decision made, all I’ve got to do is find a shirt that he’ll like, will be good to get him out of those rugby shirts and old jumpers. He looks like he’s 47 not 37. I guess he’s scared of colour, so nothing too flamboyant. And nothing too gay either. I’m thinking a stripe? Vertical obviously. Blue? Oh no, hang on, there’s the perfect thing: brown with a pale pink stripe. Fitted as well. Actually I quite fancy one for myself. Well, why not? It’s not like we socialise in the same circles! And actually we’ve got the same colouring so what suits one of us ought to suit the other, within reason. Cool, job done.

OK, I guess it might be time for me to go home - I’ve got what I came for, plus more treats than I can strictly afford. It’s going to take a few extra shifts to pay for this morning’s haul! And yet somehow I feel like I haven’t really started. Perhaps I should just have another look in HMV? Just to make sure I didn’t miss anything? No, bad Nick. What I should really do if I had any sense is go home and get on with some course work. I’m far enough behind with my assignment as it is! At this rate I’m never going to get my NVQ, and then how will I progress up the management ladder? Although come to think of it would that be so much of a tragedy? I’m too old for that kind of nonsense, careers are for young people - if I haven’t got one now I’m clearly not meant to have one.
Perhaps a compromise is in order - no more shopping, instead I’ll get some lunch and head home. Get a few hours work done then see if I can find someone with nothing better to do and go for a film. I bet Brenda would be up for an evening out, she doesn’t usually do anything on a Tuesday night. Perhaps we can tempt the Bens out and make an evening of it? Oh no, mustn’t go there again, that way lies trouble! Yeah, but I could really fancy some trouble….

Chapter 16 - Jim, Monday

Well, today didn’t exactly go as I’d expected it to!

It started off well - I’d had a nice evening in last night: got back from my walk, made some food, then settled down on the sofa with some old films and got stoned with the cat. Well, the cat didn’t get stoned, he just lay with his head in my lap occasionally giving me a disapproving frown. Or that could have just been me getting a bit paranoid…
I woke up feeling well rested, despite the fact I woke up on the sofa with a dry mouth and the cat asleep on my chest. He wasn’t happy when I tried to move him and dug his claws in just to be spiteful. It took me a while to lose the stiffness in my neck, the sofa not being the most comfy of places to sleep. Not that I’d ever really wanted to.

So I got into work feeling quite of good about things. It was Monday, there was hope. I had nothing bad scheduled for the whole day, just lots of administrative stuff. I could pretty much get my head down and get on with it and the day would fly by. Which is pretty much what it did. I nipped out a lunchtime for sandwiches and was surprised by how warm it was, so when I spotted an empty bench near the shops I grabbed it and ate outdoors. It was almost sunny enough for sunglasses, and certainly not cold enough for a coat. it was a nice change from the office and it even sent me back whistling. God knows what it was, something I’d overhead in a shop I guess, but it surprised me and made me smile.

The afternoon flew by too. I was stuck into a report and didn’t notice how quickly the day had gone by until people started walking past the office door and saying ’good-bye’. I decided to hang around and finish what I was doing as I was so close to the end and had hit my stride, so I was nearly the last person in the building for a change. I was just logging off my computer and wondering what to do for the evening when the phone rang. It was Simon, although I didn’t immediately recognise him - he was agitated about something and I wondered if he might have been crying. Once I got him to slow down and start again it turned out they’d just announced there were going to be redundancies where he works, and he was panicking it might be him. He was looking for some company, and as I was in a sociable mood I said I’d meet him. Poor bloke, he’s had that job forever, and although he loves to moan about it he’d be devastated if he lost it. I’m not sure he’d be able to get another - he’s lost so much of the spark he had when he was younger. I don’t know where it’s gone, but it’s slowly ebbed out of him. The job can’t have helped, but I think it might have more to do with his mother - slowly bleeding the life out of him, clinging onto him and not letting him get on with his own life. He really ought to stand up to her and get out more, but none of us really expect that to happen either. And he really ought to just come out as well - enough of this indecision, he’s old enough to know what he likes, and we all know that it’s men! I think it’d bring him closer to Nick as well, it seems such a waste that they don’t get on.
So I grabbed my stuff and headed home to change. The cat gave me a weary, “what now?” look as I sailed through the door and into the bedroom without pausing to stroke his head and say “hello”. He’d live. I jumped in the shower, redressed in something pubby and was out of the door again in twenty minutes flat. Poor cat, I bet he didn’t know what had hit him! Except I forgot to feed him - luckily I remembered before I got to the end of the road, so I headed back, made my apologies and left him tucking into some foul smelling thing with pasta in it. Pasta for cats? The world’s gone mad!

Simon was already at the pub when I got there, and unusually for him he’d gone in on his own and got himself a drink. He sat in a corner fiddling with a beer mat, looking the epitome of miserable. I waved, made the universal sign of ‘getting a pint’ then headed to the bar to do just that. By the time I got to the table he’d shredded the bar mat and had started on another. I pinched it from him for my pint, because that kind of incessant fiddling really bugs me, and because apparently ripped bar mats drive barmen mad. No idea why or how I knew that, but that’s what someone told me.
Simon did in fact look like he’d been crying - his eyes were red and he looked more miserable than normal. For the next hour or so he told me about the whole thing - how people were getting made redundant; how he feared he’d be one of them as nobody at work liked him; how he thought he’d never be able to find any other work because he was useless; how his life was pointless and stupid. By this point we were on our third pints, and it occurred to me that if we didn’t eat something soon we were really going to feel bad in the morning. Unfortunately the pub was one of the few that had resisted the trend to serve food - from what I’d seen our only options were crisp or nuts, neither of which were going to impede our drunkeness. But moving seemed like a very bad idea. And yet waking up the following day feeling like shit didn’t seem to good a plan either.
So I did the sensible thing and suggested we get a takeaway and head back to mine. If the worst came to the worst the cat would have to share the sofa for a second night running, but I was hoping food would sober Simon up enough to get a taxi home. The takeaway options are a little limited in my part of town - chips or Chinese, or the kebab shop if you’re really drunk and desperate. Thankfully we were neither, so Chinese it was. A good plan as it happens as the food is good and they always give me some chicken balls for the cat. I hadn’t really realised how much of a help the cat had been to me since Maria left - it was just lovely to have someone to come home to, even if that someone did ignore you for most of the evening and scratch you just because he could. He took one look at Simon and scarpered, and wouldn’t even be tempted back by a chicken ball. Simon’s not exactly a cat person so he didn’t mind.
I put some music on - a Johnny Cash album I’d been wallowing in all week - then put the TV on with the sound turned off, so we had enough distractions as we ate and wouldn’t feel like we had to talk. I made us both coffee without asking, any more alcohol certainly we would have been a bad idea.
The food was great, and it was only when I was clearing my plate that I realised how hungry I’d been - I usually ate half and left half, but not tonight. Simon did less well, pushing it around a bit and in the end leaving half of it. He made a half-hearted attempt to ask me about Maria, but today wasn’t the day - I was feeling calm and relaxed, and just couldn’t be bothered to go over the whole thing again, especially as I knew he never liked her and wouldn’t miss her anyway. I suppose I could have said that to him, but he’d had a bad day and it would have been mean to pick on him.
We chatted about people we knew - he’d seen Gay Dave so was telling me about him, although he seemed less keen to talk about Nick. I like Nick, but never saw him - it was awkward being friends with both of them when they didn’t get along so well, as you had to be careful not to upset one of them. Usually Simon, Nick was far more relaxed, and we’d had a few good nights out , which usually ended up with the pair of us sneaking off and getting stoned while the others got drunk and shouty. To be honest I probably liked Nick more than Simon, which sounds like a dreadful thing to say. Not that I’d ever say it out loud.
Two coffees later and I was ready for bed, although at the same time too wired to sleep. I should never drink coffee, it always gives me a bad head, but I feel like it might sober me although whether that’s true or not is anyone’s guess. I did a bit of obvious yawning, hoping Simon might notice and take the hint, but he didn’t seem to. Eventually the cat got tired of waiting and came back to reclaim the sofa. Even that didn’t seem to shift Simon, so I decided it was time to be blunt.
“OK Simon, it’s getting late, I need to get some sleep if I’m going to be up and about in the morning.”
“Yeah, I guess I do too, it’s later than I thought. Can you call me a cab? Or is there a minicab place round here?”
“The numbers by the phone, help yourself.”
“Thanks for putting up with me, I just didn’t fancy being on my own tonight.”
“That’s ok mate, I’d have felt the same. Must have been a shitty day.”

Not long after that his cab came, and he left but not before giving me and awkward hug. We weren’t really huggers so we were a bit clumsy and slapped each other on the back in a blokey way. It’d been an odd evening but I felt a better person for having been there for him. The cat obviously disagreed as I found him asleep on my pillow surrounded by the shredded remains of a chicken ball.

Chapter 15 - Simon, Monday

Sometimes this bloody office feels like a prison! Well, more often than that lately. How on earth did I end up in insurance anyway? I’d blame bad careers advice if it wasn’t more to do with my own staggering lack of ambition. I came for a summer job and never left. Too many years later and at least I’m off the phones - much more of that and I’d have gone mad! You’d be surprised how stupid people are, and how many of them have a car accident and don’t know anything about the other vehicle involved. “Hmm, it was blue. Or maybe green.” Thanks for that! Honestly, I think I spent about seven years biting my tongue, it’s a wonder I never gave myself an ulcer!
Now of course there’s none of that, not as Senior Claims Supervisor. Whatever that means. Now I just get to deal with the idiots we employ. Lucky me! Someone once tried to excuse their lateness by saying they forgot where they worked! God, I wish I could. I hate feeling this grumpy so early in the week - Monday is supposed to be the high point, and it’s downhill all the way from there. But where do you go if you’re at the bottom of the hill? I think you just lose the will to live.
So this week I’m going to make an effort to get out in the evenings, have myself some fun. Dave suggested going for a drink this week, and I must take him up on it. It was good to see him on Saturday, and he’s always good for a laugh. If there’s any mischief to be had he’ll find it, and boy could I do with some mischief! I must catch up with Jim too. He looked a bit lost on Friday, I think this Maria business has hit him harder than he’d like to admit. Not that he’s really said much about it, we don’t really talk about that kind of things. I guess it’s my fault - I’ve never had anything like that I’ve wanted to talk about, and those kind of conversation require reciprocation. And Nick too. We ought to be more brotherly, and I’m curious to hear how the christening went. Less curious to know how Dad was mind, but I’m kind of sorry I missed seeing Emma.

I hate departmental meetings, they always descend into bickering. It doesn’t help that they’re always rushed, and at the end of the day. No one wants the phones to be down so we have to wait till one shift ends and hope they’ll all stay on and listen. But it’s no surprise that they’re restless. Half of them have their coats on ready to go, and the other half are already mentally on the way home. And there’s always someone who seems surprised when you ask them to stop texting! For goodness sake, where did we find these people? I’m usually as bad as I never have anything useful to do - neither Manager or worker bee, I’m stuck between both camps and don’t know who to try and please. So invariably I keep quiet and watch the clock out of the corner of my eye. No doubt tonight’s will be as pointless as ever. Whoever scheduled it for a Monday should be shot.

I normally eat a sandwich at my desk, but today I had to get out. If I spend any longer looking at that screen I’ll scream. And if I see another graph I swear I’ll run amok with a stapler or something! So the fresh air will do me good. I even abandoned my homemade sandwich. It was only cheese that had seen better days and some unidentifiable pickle from the back of the cupboard. I really fancy a bagel, and the walk to the really nice bagel shop will clear my head.

Hmm, what is it about bread and cheese in the open air? I feel much better! Must be the sun on my head. Or maybe the sneaky little bottled beer I bought from the Off Licence. Well, one won’t hurt. I sat in a small park watching some kids skateboard. They must have been bunking off school, they certainly didn’t look old enough to have left, but who can tell nowadays. The bagel was gorgeous, and I couldn’t resist a pastry while I was there. Yeah, I know I shouldn’t, I’m getting fat enough as it is, but it looked so lovely I’d asked for it before I realised what I’d done.

Well that was odd. I got back to the office and when I walked past the phone room I noticed a group of them standing round having a very animated conversation. It’s unlike them all to be back before they have to be, and then they usually head straight to their desks and their phones. If there’s any gossiping to be done it usually takes place at the coffee machine or in the toilets. They certainly looked worked up about something, I wonder what it was? It can’t have been work, because they’d have been in here like a shot - they like nothing more than bringing me their work-related moans. No wonder I’m losing my hair! Then I wandered out to get a coffee, just in time to see one of the girls rushing to the toilet clutching a tissue to her face and snivelling. I do hate crying in the workplace, although there have been plenty of times when it’s made me want to weep. I wonder what’s going on? If only more people liked me I could have a discrete word, but there’s no way anyone in that phone room is going to let me in on the secret.

OK, something’s really going on. I went downstairs to check some figures with Accounts and I’m sure I saw the Big Boss from Belgium in the MD’s office. It’s not often we see him, especially not on a Monday. He sometimes swans in just before Christmas, distributing largesse and trying to look festive, but never at this time of year. And now I come to think of it there are a lot more salesmen in than normal. You’d usually be lucky to find a couple in, if lucky is the word you’d use. This can’t be good, they only ever bring salesmen in in an emergency - no salesmen on the road means no sales etc. Oh shit, now I’m getting panicky.

Oh fuck, the Claims Director is here. We never see him at a departmental meeting, there’s no need for him to be here so he always sends the Claims Manager. Now I know we’re fucked.

“Good afternoon everyone, thanks for sparing me your time, especially at the end of a busy day. I know you’re all tired and eager to get home so we’ll make this brief.
You may already be aware that the last quarter was particularly disastrous for us. We lost several big business customers and the domestic market has been very tricky, what with supermarkets offering similar products at ridiculously reduced premiums. We failed to meet our targets. And I’m afraid when I say failed I mean badly - by just over 40%. Our predictions for the next quarter are equally gloomy, and we’ve been instructed by Head Office to take some measures to prevent this temporary downturn getting out of control.
We’ve spent several weeks looking at our options, but with no immediate prospect of big customers returning or changing for their existing insurers we’ve been forced to look in-house to make some savings. The only way we can reduce our overheads is buy reducing our staff, so it is with regret that we’ve decided redundancies are our only option.
We are legally obliged to go through a consultation process with each and every member of staff, which will begin tomorrow and take about a week. No decisions will be made until everyone has been spoken with. I must stress that we do not have a list of people in mind - anyone and everyone could be affected by this. Voluntary redundancies may be an option, and this will be discussed with you in your meetings.
I’m sorry to spring this on you on a Monday evening, thank you for your time. If any of you have any questions I’ll be in my office. Thanks”

Oh fuck. There I was thinking we’d been taken over or something. It never occurred to me we’d go through this again! How long is it since the last cull? Two years? Three? God, this place is going to be hell. I remember last time, everyone was so desperate to save their jobs that we all got really crazy. I remember sitting looking round the office thinking who’d be given the chop before me, and realising that there were worryingly few beneath me. It got a bit much for some people, and there was an awful lot of snapping at each other, slamming doors and snide remarks. I even remember being pleased when some people I didn’t like were let go. I’m not sure who it’s worse for - the people who’ve not been here very long or the people who’ve been here forever. What would I do? What could I do? I’m unlikely to get another job in insurance - everyone else is in the same situation as us: cutting back, saving money. And I’m not sure I’d want one. But I don’t want to change! I couldn’t cope with it! The thought of having to sell myself to another company appals me. I couldn’t. Who would want me?
It’s time like this I wish I had friends within the company so I could go out with them and debrief. And bitch about the idiot Managers who got us into this mess. Some of them look really gutted. Admittedly some of the boys look like they couldn’t care less, and why should they? They’re young and capable, they’ll bounce back. But I’m too set in my ways to bounce. Oh fuck, I need a drink….

Chapter 14 - Gay Dave, Monday

To: Simon (work)
From: Dave
Subject: Further adventures…
Hi Si :-)
How’s the exciting world of insurance on this dull Monday morning? About as thrilling as accounting I can imagine….
It was good to see you on Saturday, thanks for putting up with my surprise appearance. We must get together soon for a drink, and evening this week good for you?
How was the rest of your weekend? Mine turned out to be unexpectedly fun. I know you like to hear these things, so here goes:
I’m up the gym, trying to work off a hangover, and if I’m being truthful, on the look out for someone to play with. But it was quiet, so by the time I got to the sauna I’d given up all hope and was fully expecting to go home alone. Then this gorgeous bloke comes in! Shaven head, hairy chest - just my type. Straight of course, but needs must and all that. So I just sat there slyly looking at him, waiting for him to make the first move so I didn’t get a punch in the face, and he casually starts chatting. Then he takes his towel off. The he slides over to my side of the sauna for a closer look. Well! Luckily he had a big family so he needed a big car - there’s nothing worse than trying to shag in a small car is there? :-) People carriers are the only way to go! You really should get down the gym more often you know!
Later…
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To: HR
From: Gilbey, David
Subject: PA
Bob,
Any progress with a PA for our department? This sharing with the creative team is just not working out! I’ve got auditors in next week and need reports compiling but Tracey is far too busy getting tea for Mike’s team!
I’m happy to have a meeting to go over any shortlist you might have, but at this stage even a temp would do! Can you sort something out for us before the end of the week?
Cheers,
Dave
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To: Nicky (work); Nicky (home)
From: Dave
Subject: Mum
Hi Sis,
Any thoughts about Mum’s birthday? I’ve been so rushed here I haven’t had time to give it much though. I did mention it to her and she did the old, “don’t waste your money there’s nothing I want” kind of thing. Yeah right. Maybe we should call her bluff and pretend we haven’t got her anything? She how she feels about it then! Anyway, if you have any ideas let me know. I assume you’ll go round fro tea? It’s a Sunday isn’t it.
OK, better get on, send my love to the kids!
Dave XX
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To: Powell, Michael
From: Gilbey, David
Subject: Tracey
Mike!
Any chance your guys to learn to make their own coffee? We’ve got auditors in next week and we’re up to our eyes in reports and stuff. Would be grateful if you could let Tracey spend afternoon’s with us this week. Have chased Bob about it again so hopefully it won’t be for much longer.
Cheers,
Dave
Ps. We never did get together for that game of squash. You scared a youngster will make a fool of you? :-)
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To: Danny D.
From: Dave
Subject: Tonight
Danny!
You up for some fun tonight? I’m having a dull day at work and can’t face another night in chatting to random strangers on Gaydar. Fancy a drink at the Anchor? We could even eat, I’m sure they’ve got a veggie option! Go on, be a mate, otherwise I’ll only be kicking round the house all evening distracting you from you’re yoga!
Peace & what have you….
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To: Arnold, Tracy
From: Gilbey, David
Subject: Creatives
Tracey,
I’ve arranged with Mike for you to spend every afternoon this week with us. As you know we’ve got auditors coming in next week and it would really help things go smoothly it we were fully prepared for them. There’s a pile of reports in your tray that need signing by the Directors, copying and binding. Any chance you can sort that out ASAP?
Hopefully we should get a temp in the very near future so we shouldn’t be troubling you for much longer. Your help is greatly appreciated!
Dave.
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To: Dave
From: Simon (work)
Subject: RE: Further adventures…
You jammy fucker! I spent most of my day babysitting Mum because there was some family thing on that she couldn’t face. If I see another piece of cheap china I swear I’ll scream! You need to stop with the married men though, they’re never gonna leave their wives, and you’re not getting any younger! :-)
No plans all week, so a drink whenever would be could. And yes, insurance is deadly dull today…
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To: Francis, Brian
From: Gilbey, David
Subject: Annual report.
Brian,
The annual report is finished, including the amendments we discussed last week. Thanks for your input.
Tracey will need them signed this afternoon, can you do me a favour and get them back to her ASAP so we can publish them before the auditors get here next week.
Many thanks
Dave
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To: Gilbey, David
From: HR
Subject: RE:PA
Bob Allan is out of the office today and is unable to respond to your email. If the matter is urgent please speak to his PA on extension 329, otherwise it will be dealt with when he returns to the office on Wednesday.
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To: Gilbey, David
From: Powell, Michael
Subject: RE: Tracey
Bad timing mate, we’ve got a big presentation coming up this week as well. It’s all hands up here, none of this sloping off at 5.30 like you number-crunchers! I wish we had time to make our own coffee but we’re up to our eyes in it! Can we settle for two afternoons?
Squash? No chance, I’m home little enough as it is! If I spend anymore time away from the place the kids will forget who I am!
Mike
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To: Dave
From: Danny D
Subject: RE: Tonight
Matey!
Good plan, today has totally gone to shit. Got a puncture on the way to work, so I ended up being late, only to find that we’ve got some inspection that CJ forgot to tell us about. Twat. Honestly, I had to go to my calm place or I’d have told him where to go. So, 5.30? 6? First rounds on you though…
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To: Accounts staff
From: Gilbey, David
Subject: Auditors
Dear all,
As you know we have the auditors in next week.
It’s imperative we get our act together to avoid the fiasco we went through last time. I know it’s been a difficult year with lots of changes of personnel, but these guys are robots and they don’t care about our problems. If those numbers don’t add up we’re for it. It was tricky enough explaining last year’s VAT fine to the board, let’s not get anything else to trouble them with.
So, all leave this week is cancelled, and if anyone can spare some extra time first thing or over lunch it would be greatly appreciated. Unfortunately it looks like Susie won’t be replaced any time soon and Tracey is busy with the Creatives so don’t expect any secretarial support this week.
Any extra efforts will rewarded in the usual way, i.e. no cash but a few drinks one lunch time.
Thanks guys,
Dave
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To: Danny D.
From: Dave
Subject: RE: RE: Tonight
Oh mate, you’re a lifesaver! This place is really driving me mad today! Sometimes it feels like I have to do everything myself. I don’t know why I bother having staff for all the good they are!
Good luck with the inspection, I’m sure everything’s in order knowing you!
Race you to the pub!
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To: Maggie P.
From Dave
Subject: Yo stranger!
Hey Mags, how’s things? It’s been ages, I thought you’d vanished, but Simon said he’d seen you in town so I thought I’d say hi. How’s that gorgeous girlfriend of yours? When’s she gonna let me go on that bike?
Things here are pretty much the same: work is tiresome; Mr Right remains illusive, but his slaggy brother Mr Right Now has been round a few times ;-) Basically I’m bored. Do you think I need a new job? Or a cat? Perhaps you could lend me one of yours for a bit?
Anyway, hope school is OK and the brats aren’t too troublesome. Send my love to Fiona, and give me a ring, we must go out!
XXX
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To: Arnold, Tracy
From: Gilbey, David
Subject: Creatives
Tracy,
Change of plan, Mike can only spare you two afternoons this week. Any chance you could get in early and do some stuff for us? You’ll get your reward in heaven! Although the departmental budget might stretch to some thank you drinks….
Mike
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To: Dave Gilbey
From: Euromillions Lottery
Subject: You’re a winner!
Congratulations Mr Dave Gibley you are a winner! To claim your $13 million dollar prize please click on the link below and follow the instructions. You will need to provide us with your current bank details to enable us to pay you. Don’t delay - the sooner you collect the sooner your life changes for the better!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
To: IT Support
From: Gilbey, David
Subject: FW: You’re a winner!
Guys!
I thought we had software to deal with this crap? How come I’m can’t get internet access to my bloody hotmail account but this kind of crap can fill up my inbox?!
And if any of you can drag yourself away from Doom 3 can you come and fix our scanner? It’ll only do half pages, and only then if you beg!
Cheers
PS. Drinks next door at 1 if you fancy it….
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
To: Dave
From: Nicky Brown
Subject: RE: Mum
Oh fuck I completely forgot it’s her birthday! Fuck fuck fuck. Thank god you reminded me, I’ll get the kids to work on a card this weekend.
As for ideas? Have you spoken to Dad, he might have an idea? No of course you haven’t. OK, I’ll have a word. What did we get last year. Perhaps that will inspire us?
And what’s all this “I’ve been so rushed here” crap - Mum tells me you’re always at the bloody gym. Cruising for boys more like you filthy tart! Come to tea this week, the girls would love to see you, and Jacks away on a course so some adult company would be fun!
XXX
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Chapter 13 - Nick, Monday

I hate early shifts on a Monday - it’s the only day you have to get up early and open the store - every other day it’s been open all night, so it’s got it’s own momentum, there’s a cross-over of staff and it just seems to run really smoothly. Sundays are different because it’s a later start, and by the time you’ve had enough the day’s over anyway. But Mondays, no. Everyone turns up at the same time, with that same unhappy to be back at work feeling and it just feel likes all day you’re struggling uphill. Of course by the time the afternoon shift come on everything is up and running and they just look at you like you’re an idiot for even complaining.
Honestly, you can’t believe there’d be people queuing for groceries on a Monday morning. They’re mostly old people - what have they got to do all day? Why do they need to be here at 8am, cluttering the place up before we’ve even got any tills open? I’m not really fond of the bunch of staff I’ve got either. The Bens are at college, Brenda’s doing lates, and the rest of the crowd from Saturday aren’t in so it’s just me and a bunch of middle-aged women who just look at me sourly. Give it a rest girls, none of this is my fault!

The christening turned out to be a lot more fun than I’d expected, when it finally crawled to an end. We all waited in the churchyard to take pictures, and Emma even managed to stop crying long enough to smile for the photos. The baby slept through it all of course, oblivious to the fact that he was the cause of all the fuss. His Dad didn’t stop grinning all day, chest puffed out like the proud Dad he obviously is. I just wish he was a little less straight, then I might be able to get on with him a bit better. He has an air of a rugby playing public schoolboy about him, although he’s none of those things. He’s prone to stupid macho things like punching you on the arm in greeting, which would be fine if he weighed seven stone, but there’s a lot of him and he invariably leaves a bruise!
Emma’s Mum was fussing over the baby, while trying to cling onto her silly hat. Mum would have laughed - a hat at a christening? Who does she think she is? She’s actually Dad’s sister, and her and Mum never really got on. Mum doesn’t really get on with many people though, so I’m not surprised. I think she thought her brother could have done a bit better, which makes me wonder what she really thinks of Shirley.
Dad wasn’t outside the church when I got out, so I assumed he’d snuck off, but it turned out he was round the back of the church having a crafty fag. When we were kids we didn’t even know he smoked - Mum would never let him do it anywhere near us, so he always used to sneak off outside when he needed to, and if it was summer and we were already outside and could see him he’d wander down the street on some pretext. I kind of know what Mum was thinking, but we were going to smoke if we wanted to so I don’t know why she bothered. It was probably just another way of punishing Dad for being such a disappointment to her.
We exchanged nods in the churchyard but didn’t speak till later. Turned out there was food in a local pub. The landlord was a good friend of theirs so he shut the pub specially, despite the fact he could have filled it with people for lunch. They made him godfather, although I’m sure that had more to do with him being an old friend than having a suitable venue! How fantastic to have a godfather who runs a pub - I can’t even remember who mine are. I think the relatives were all used up on Simon, so I got friends or neighbours, people who I’ve not seen in years and who never made much of an impression on me in my youth. I wondered why they bothered at all? It’s like middle names - why bother? Why do I need a name I’ll never use? Christopher. You can’t even shorten it to Chris, like you would do if it was your first name, and like I do with Nicholas. I’m no more a Nicholas than I am a Christopher! This baby got saddled with Callum Samuel. Heavens. Samuel is a family name apparently, although why they didn’t just shorten it to Sam and give him that is anyone’s guess. Callum? Oh dear.

As we strolled round to the pub I caught up with Emma, who’d momentarily lost the baby to her Mother. She really did look well, giving up work suited her and she seemed more relaxed than I remembered. She tactfully didn’t mention Mum or Simon, which was a relief, but she did seem pleased I’d come. I just hoped she’d like the gift. In an ideal world I’d have liked to have bought a silver rattle from Tiffany’s, just for the gorgeous blue box really, but supermarket wages don’t stretch that far and I’m not even sure Emma would have appreciated the significance of it. There’s a particular kind of person that practically genuflects at the merest mention of the name, but to everyone else it’s just another jewellers, and a rattle is a rattle. Of course the sensible thing would have been to use my staff discount to get her a pile of nappies, but that’s not much of a gift, sSo I settled on a silver St Christopher from a second-hand stall on the market. I doubt it’s very old or even valuable, but I liked the idea of giving something with a history to somebody who has no history of their own yet. Of course it will spend its whole life in a cupboard, but I felt better for buying it.

The pub was surprisingly nice - one of those gastro-pub type places where the food is a lot better than scampi and chips in a basket. They made it look nice inside, to appeal to the kind of people they were hoping to attract - lots of pale colours and wood, prints on the wall, single flowers artfully standing in oddly shaped vases. It’s the kind of place that would be a nightmare to drink in - it was practically a restaurant in all but name, which is fine if that’s what you’re looking for, but fifteen kinds of red wine are no use when you want a decent pint! Thankfully they had that too, and a queue formed at the bar matching the one that formed at the baby. It wasn’t divided along the sexes as you might think - I got chatting to the woman in front of me who turned out to be the godmother. I didn’t recognise her without her hat on, and we had one of those frivolous, flirty chats that make the wait seem shorter. She wandered off with her Guinness and I was about to head outside with mine when I turned round and bumped straight into Dad.

“Hello Dad”
“Hello son”

Oh I wish he wouldn’t do that, I know he was just doing it to make us feel closer, but sometimes I thought he did it because he couldn’t remember which one I was.

“Shirley not with you?”
“No, she’s in Spain with some girls she used to work with. They go every year to get some sun and get away from their husbands.”

That must have felt odd - Dad had never married Shirley although I’d never bothered to ask him why. I wonder if he didn’t want to make the same mistake twice? Or perhaps he was just happier as they were. He certainly looked well.

“Lucky woman, sounds fun.”
“Yeah. So how you keeping? You look a bit tired.”
“I’m OK, late night. Hungover. Should really still be in bed.”
“Why? You leave someone in there?”

That was said with one of those men of the world types grins. He knew that anyone I’d have left behind would have been a bloke, he just liked to think he was talking one gigolo to another. If he’d have given it any thought he’d have known I wasn’t like that, and I doubt he was anymore.

“No Dad, I mean to sleep. A few more hours would have been nice.”
“How’s your Mum?”
“OK I guess, we don’t see as much of each other as she’d like, but Simon makes up for it.”
“And how’s he?”
“He seems fine. You could always speak to him yourself.”
“Why? Is he here?”

He looked slightly panicked at the idea. I think he though Simon would start a row if they ever met, but in truth Simon was no more likely to cause a scene in public than I was. In that respect we were very much our mother’s sons.

“Don’t panic, he couldn’t make it.”
“Didn’t want to bump into me more like”

Silence. I wasn’t going to lie to him. He knew how things were between them, he was a grown-up, he didn’t need me to cover it up for him.

“Yeah, I thought so. Uptight little prick.”
“Dad, don’t start, it’s old news”
“Yeah it is. Well, I’m glad you’re OK, you should come round and see us, Shirley would be pleased to see you.”
“OK Dad, I might”
“OK, now I better go and see what that sister of mine wants. She’s been waving her bag at me for ages trying to attract my attention. What does she look like in that hat?”

With that he grinned and wandered off. That wasn’t so bad was it? I honestly don’t know why Simon makes such a fuss about it. I guess it’s because he’s still tied to Mum’s apron strings. Oh good , they’re serving food - I wonder if there’s time to grab another drink?