A Question of Us

by Mary Jayne Baker

‘Shake hands then, Clarrie?’ Darren asked. ‘Captain to captain?’

  ‘All right, go on.’ She held out her hand and he gave it a gentle press, holding on just a bit longer than necessary.

  Si frowned at the linked hands. ‘Daz, that’s enough. We don’t come over and touch up your team.’

  ‘Feel free, we’d enjoy it,’ Darren said, grinning. ‘Right, see you, lads and lass. Looking forward to kicking your arses.’ He whipped off a mock salute and headed back to the Les Quiz table.

  10

  ‘What did that knobhead want?’ Dave said, sending a mucky look after Darren as he and Lyndsey arrived back with the drinks.

  ‘To gloat about his pet Brainiac, obviously,’ Sonny said. ‘And to try his smoothie routine on Clarrie.’

  ‘What, again?’ Dave grinned at her. ‘Hey, you had a proper lady stiffy for him at school, didn’t you?’

  ‘Okay, I don’t know which one of you bellends invented the term lady stiffy but I promise it’s not a thing.’ She lifted her chin. ‘And anyway, I didn’t.’

  ‘Liar. You used to sit outside the boys’ changing rooms so you could catch him in his Games kit.’

  ‘Oh yeah. It was him you fancied on the rugby team, wasn’t it?’ Si said to Clarrie. ‘I thought you were waiting for me to finish practice.’

  ‘I was.’

  ‘God’s honest?’

  She sighed. ‘Okay, fine. I wanted to catch Darren in his Games kit.’

  ‘Lady pervert.’

  ‘Also not a thing. Lady perverts are just called perverts, Si. Perversion’s always been an equal opportunities employer.’

  ‘That’s feminism for you. Burn a few bras and you think all us lads have to get our bits out on demand.’

  Clarrie grinned at him. ‘Go on then.’

  ‘Okay, I’m all for female empowerment. Just let me finish my pint and I’ll take you round the back of the Indian for a cheeky knee-trembler.’ He winked and clicked his tongue.

  She snorted. ‘You romantic bastard.’

  Dave rolled his eyes at Sonny. ‘Do you think us three need to be here for all this sub-par flirting or shall we go?’

  ‘Speak for yourself,’ Sonny said with a shrug. ‘You’ve got a woman. I’m making notes.’

  ‘Oh yeah, I nearly forgot.’ Dave poked his head around Lyndsey to look at Sonny. ‘How was your blind date, you sneaky bugger?’

  Sonny glared at Clarrie. ‘What did you tell him that for?’

  ‘Hey, don’t look at me. Your mum grassed you up to Polly in Tesco.’

  ‘What? I’ll kill her!’

  ‘Well?’ Dave said. ‘You going to see her again?’

  ‘Shouldn’t think so.’ Sonny stared into the murky depths of his Guinness. ‘She was nice, but… dunno. Not for me.’

  ‘Oh, is he the one who’s still in love with his ex?’ Lyndsey whispered to Dave.

  ‘You what?’ Sonny flashed an angry look at Dave. ‘Can you please keep your pillow talk off my private life?’

  To his credit, Dave did manage to look guilty. ‘Er, yeah, sorry. Just filling her in on everything.’

  ‘God, I’m so sorry, Sonny,’ Lyndsey said, looking mortified. ‘I thought your friends all knew.’

  ‘We do all know,’ Si said. He shot a significant look at Sonny. ‘Don’t we?’

  ‘Leave it, Si.’

  ‘No, don’t think I will. Talk to her, go on.’

  ‘What makes you think Gem wants to talk to me?’

  ‘Why do you think she’s even here?’ Clarrie said. ‘Look, I know what she did was wrong, but…’ She dipped her head to catch Sonny’s deep brown eyes. ‘She loves you, you know.’

  A momentary spasm flickered across Sonny’s face.

  ‘Does she?’ he said quietly.

  ‘She never stopped.’

  Sonny glanced over at the Pink Ladies, where Gemma, oblivious to the conversation about her love life going on a few tables away, was chatting with her friends.

  She stopped when she sensed Sonny’s gaze and turned to meet his eyes. Her expression registered surprise, but she quickly summoned a warm smile. He managed to twitch a weak half smile back.

  ‘You going to talk to her?’ Dave asked gently. ‘Don’t be scared. It’s the right thing.’

  ‘No… not just now, Davy. I’ll think about it, okay?’

  ‘Okay. Whenever you feel ready.’ Dave reached out to give his friend’s shoulder a squeeze then brought his arm back round Lyndsey’s middle.

  ‘Oh bollocks,’ Si said suddenly, his gaze falling on a group by the bar.

  ‘What?’ Clarrie turned to look.

  ‘There’s a gang of kids from my school over there.’ He groaned. ‘God, now I have to be a fucking role model, don’t I? I was just going to go out for a smoke as well. Hope the little bastards get IDed.’

  ‘Ha! Keep forgetting you’re a teacher,’ Dave said. ‘They call you Mr Dewhirst?’

  ‘Course.’

  Dave shook his head. ‘That is so weird.’

  ‘Are you honestly a teacher?’ Lyndsey asked Si.

  ‘Yes, History. Why?’

  ‘You don’t look much like a teacher.’

  He laughed. ‘What do I look like then?’

  ‘Dunno.’ Lyndsey ran her eyes over him. ‘Stripper?’

  ‘Er, thanks.’

  Dave nudged her. ‘Oi. I’ve lost out on enough girls to him. If you want to get me in the sack later, stop perving and start gazing at me adoringly.’

  ‘All yours, lover.’ She wriggled round for a snog.

  ‘For God’s sake,’ Sonny muttered. ‘Come back, Jeff, all is forgiven.’

  ‘Shit, they’ve seen me.’ Si hurriedly turned away.

  ‘What’re they doing?’ he muttered to Clarrie.

  ‘One of them’s coming over.’

  ‘Balls. Which one?’

  ‘Dark-haired girl. Trowel-load of slap on. Weird eyebrows.’

  ‘Oh Christ.’

  ‘Hiya Sir,’ the teen said when she reached their table. She was a little unsteady on her towering heels, sticking her chest out and jiggling with attitude. ‘What you doing here?’

  ‘Same as you. Drinking,’ Si said, not looking up from his pint. ‘And if you don’t tell the others you saw me after we go back, I won’t tell the landlord you’re all underage.’

  She shot Clarrie a suspicious look. ‘This your girlfriend?’

  ‘Mind your own business.’

  ‘Loved your last lesson, Sir. It was well, um…’ the girl fumbled for the word ‘… inspirational and shit.’

  ‘Yeah? What was it on, Shona?’

  ‘Er, the war?’

  ‘Which war?’

  ‘Er… the first one?’

  ‘You had a fifty-fifty chance. Fail.’

  Shona grinned. ‘You’re too funny, Sir. Ready to get beat? Us lot are doing the quiz too.’

  ‘Beaten. Not beat.’

  ‘Yeah, s’what I said. Anyways, bet we win you.’

  ‘Beat me, not… oh, forget it, I’m off the clock. Go on, piss off, I’ll see you in a few weeks. Keep schtum and I’ll let you all out of Monday sixth period five minutes early.’

  ‘Cheers, Sir, you’re a pal.’ With a last grin, the girl wiggled her arse back to her friends, tossing a glance over her shoulder to see if Si had noticed.

  Clarrie raised an eyebrow at him. ‘Inspirational?’

  ‘I’m their tambourine man.’

  ‘Do they all fancy you?’ Dave asked.

  ‘The lads don’t. Often.’ He glanced over at the kids again. ‘Ugh. They’re all looking at me. This is worse than being in class.’

  ‘Well, at least it’ll only be for this one quiz,’ Clarrie said. ‘Imagine if they’d registered for the League.’

  ‘Oh yeah, that reminds me. Strategy time,’ Si said. ‘Get your sheets out, you lot, and let’s have a run through.’

  Clarrie shot a look at Dave. ‘And you’d forgotten he was a teacher.’

  ‘Shush, kiddo, I’
m educating,’ Si said, flicking her earlobe.

  ‘Can you stop calling me that? I’m older than you.’

  ‘Yeah, but I’m bigger than you.’

  ‘You’re bigger than bloody Goliath though,’ Sonny said.

  ‘Or you’re a short-arse.’

  ‘I’m five-eleven, knobhead.’

  ‘I know. It’s adorable.’ Si leaned across the table to pat him on the head.

  Sonny jerked his head away. ‘Fuck off, Si.’

  Lyndsey snorted. ‘You guys are a right laugh. You always take the piss out of each other this much?’

  Dave shrugged. ‘Everyone needs a hobby.’ He glanced over at Maserati Tim, messing about with his microphone up front. ‘You better go, Lyns, before that pillock threatens to disqualify us again. We were due to start ten minutes ago.’

  ‘All right. See you at mine later then.’ She kissed his cheek and stood up. ‘Nice to meet you all.’ She waved goodbye and headed out, Dave tilting his head in appreciation of her backside as she walked away.

  Si slid one of his photocopies towards him. ‘Right, lads. So based on past quizzes, I reckon we’re looking at a weighting towards arts and culture. That means nostalgia, entertainment, literature; less on science, nature, sport.’

  ‘I feel like we’re pulling a bank job,’ Clarrie muttered.

  Si grinned at her. ‘I know. Should’ve thought of this years ago.’ He pointed to their names, next to areas of specialism. ‘Okay, so we’ve got me for history and sport, Sonny for science and current affairs, and Dave, you’re music and general geekery. Jeff on nostalgia, as long as it’s all post-1970 and he’s allowed to turn up. And Clarrie on literature, of course.’

  Sonny looked up at her. ‘Not going to rig it, are you, Clar?’

  ‘Not allowed, the bet says,’ she said. ‘Not that it matters. We won’t win.’

  ‘We’ll see,’ Si said, his voice laced with determination. ‘So. Three teams ahead of us, and a big points gap means no real competitors behind. The Murgatroyds, one point ahead on sixty-three. Strong on nostalgia and sport, weak on science and current affairs. Prone to toilet Googling, so if we see any of them get up to go to the loo I want one of us hot on their heels. Next, Gem’s team, the Pink Ladies. Sixty-five points so far. Hard to gauge their strengths properly, since they’re new, but we know Gem was always good on entertainment and celeb culture. And finally, Les Quiz.’ He looked over at Darren and his teammates. ‘Sixty-eight out of a possible seventy. Strong on everything except literature and nostalgia, and now they’ve got Jim off Brainiacs even those are probably covered. Let’s just hope they have a bad day or five.’

  He flipped the sheet over. ‘On the other side I’ve listed our weaknesses. We’ve got no one on entertainment any more, particularly current, no one on food and drink unless what Sonny learnt when he did that Italian cookery course to impress Gem can be stretched to a whole round, and no one on pre-1970s nostalgia.’ He glanced up at Dave and Sonny. ‘So I want the pair of you swotting up.’

  ‘You think we’re going to spend all our time doing homework so you can get your end away with Clarrie?’ Sonny said.

  ‘No, I think you’re going to spend all your time doing homework to beat Darren. Me getting my end away is just a happy bonus.’

  ‘Oh.’ Sonny shrugged. ‘All right. I’ll take food and drink then.’

  ‘Banging. Davy?’

  ‘Yeah, go on. I’ll have a crack at the nostalgia.’

  ‘Cheers, boys,’ Si said. ‘Right, in that case I’ll take entertainment and pot luck.’

  ‘What about me?’ Clarrie asked.

  He smiled and gave her a squeeze. ‘Sorry, kiddo. Not sure you can be trusted trying to win a bet against yourself.’

  ‘Fair point.’ She nodded to Tim, tapping his mike for silence. ‘Okay, lads. Here we go again.’

  11

  ‘Evening, ladies and gents,’ Tim boomed through his mike. ‘And we’re back again for the second League quiz of the year. All our League teams will be competing, plus a few gamers just here for shits and giggles.’ He nodded to the teens from Si’s school tittering over their answer sheet. ‘First up is pot luck. Question one: which actor played PC “Fancy” Smith in Z-Cars?’

  ‘Oh God,’ Dave muttered. ‘I knew the one week Dad wasn’t here it’d be all old people questions.’

  ‘He’d probably say he wasn’t born when Z-Cars was on,’ Clarrie said.

  ‘Yeah, but he was a copper, wasn’t he? I bet half the training was watching Z-Cars and The Bill.’

  ‘I know it.’ Si pulled the answer sheet to him. ‘Yorkshire lad. Brian Blessed.’

  Sonny looked impressed. ‘How’d you get that? Have they added telly nostalgia to the History curriculum?’

  ‘Been reading up.’

  ‘What, on Brian Blessed?’

  ‘No. I bought a load of trivia books off Clarrie.’

  ‘Bloody hell, did you?’ Sonny put his hands palm down on the table and bowed his head. ‘Okay, I resign. The place of the team’s chief quiz nutter is yours, Si.’

  ‘Question two,’ Tim fizzled. ‘What type of monkey commonly used to accompany organ grinders?’

  Clarrie frowned. ‘That’s a hard one.’

  ‘And surprise surprise, look who knows it,’ Dave said, nodding to Jim Welsby scribbling down the answer.

  ‘Well? No one going to have a guess?’ Si’s gaze fixed on Sonny. ‘What about you, organ grinder?’

  ‘I like to think of myself as more of a puppet master,’ he said, ruffling Dave’s hair.

  ‘Oi,’ Dave said, jerking his head away. ‘I’m the puppet master in this relationship.’

  ‘Question three…’ fizzed the mike.

  ‘Shit, he’s moving on,’ Si said. ‘Put “monkey” next to it, Davy. We’ll come back to it in the break.’

  ‘Question three: which English king is described by Shakespeare as the “bottled spider”?’

  ‘Okay, Clar.’ Dave pushed the answer sheet to her. ‘Time to find out if you’re still playing fair.’

  ‘You know, it is just possible I might not know it,’ she said.

  ‘And do you?’

  ‘I do actually. Richard the Third.’ She scribbled it down.

  ‘You’re not bad, are you?’ Sonny said with an approving nod. ‘What did you get in your degree anyway?’

  ‘First, just.’ She laughed at his expression. ‘No need to look so surprised, Sonny. Just coz I hang out with you thick bastards.’

  ‘Swot. Shame you don’t know anything about monkeys, isn’t it?’

  ‘Monkey identification isn’t a big part of an English Lit degree, amazingly. Anyway, I don’t notice you bringing much to proceedings.’

  ‘Hey. I’m science.’

  ‘Monkeys are science.’

  ‘Monkeys are not science. They’re…’ Sonny stopped to think. ‘I dunno, zoology.’

  ‘That is a science, isn’t it?’

  ‘No, it’s…’

  ‘Question four,’ Tim crackled. Sonny looked relieved at being freed from the responsibility of explaining monkeys not being science. ‘What’s the largest organ of the body?’

  ‘All right, Sonny, organs are definitely science,’ Clarrie said, pushing him the answer sheet. ‘And you can stop smirking, Davy. It won’t be that organ.’

  Dave shrugged. ‘Speak for yourself.’

  ‘God, you boys are immature,’ she said, raising holier-than-thou girl eyes to the ceiling.

  ‘Oh please,’ Si said. ‘You nearly pissed yourself last year when that Eiffel Tower question came up.’

  ‘Oh yeah. How did that go?’ Dave said. ‘I think it started “Which man-made erection…”’

  Clarrie snorted. ‘Erection. That was bloody funny. So do you know this one or what, Sonny?’

  ‘Yeah, it’s the liver.’

  ‘Again, I’d have to say speak for yourself,’ Dave said. ‘But if you think that’s right, get it down.’

  After pot luck there was a TV
theme tunes round, then, as Sonny had predicted at the last quiz, current affairs.

  ‘Right, that’s your lot,’ Tim barked when they were done with the first half. ‘Half an hour to get some supper into you and we’ll be back with the last two rounds. I’ll be coming round the tables for a quid off everyone.’

  Clarrie nudged Si. ‘Look at your students.’

  He glanced over to where the gang of teens from his school were coppering up, trying to find enough for the pound each quiz fee.

  ‘Heh. That was us ten years ago, wasn’t it? Suppose it’s not all bad, being grown up.’

  ‘Er, yeah, about that… can’t lend us a quid, can you?’

  Simon let out a well-practised sigh. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Heyup,’ Maserati Tim said, swaggering over in his checked mustard suit. The quiffed Elvis hair on top, so black it was almost purple, made the quizmaster look like a particularly unappetising blueberry ice cream.

  ‘Hiya, Tim,’ Si said. ‘How’s the car?’

  ‘Sweet as. Just got her waxed, ready for the cruising season.’ He glanced around the table. ‘Where’s Henderson Senior?’

  ‘Mum’s locked him in,’ Dave said.

  ‘Bloody hell, again? Got him proper whipped, your mam.’ He nodded to Clarrie. ‘And how’s your mother, Clarissa?’

  Tim had been one of Kath’s early forays into dating, back when Clarrie was studying for A-Levels, but his terrible taste in suits and Top Gear addiction had soon seen him off.

  ‘Seeing Greg from the chemist. Sorry.’

  Tim shrugged. ‘Her loss. Right. Quid each and one for the prodigal.’

  ‘Oh, what?’ Dave said. ‘You’re not making us pay for Dad?’

  ‘Yep. It’s a pound for every registered team member, whether they’re here or not. You should know the rules by now, young Davy, you’ve been doing it long enough.’

  ‘Don’t remember that one. I swear you make them up on the fly.’

  ‘Listen, son. The rules of the quiz league were set down by a council of hooded elders long before you were born.’

  ‘Pretty impressive since the League’s only been going fourteen years,’ Dave said. ‘Bet they’re on an illuminated scroll sealed in a vault under Denworth Memorial Hall, yeah? Guarded by tigers?’

  ‘Rabid wolves actually,’ Tim said, grinning. ‘Come on, kids, give us a fiver so I can fuck off. I’ve got to get round the rest of these buggers.’