As Tom handed Brian his change, he looked beyond his brother to the entrance and a big smile spread across his face.
Brian saw the smile and turned to see what he had seen. ‘Yoopy do,’ said Brian with great satisfaction. Two girls walked into the bar and the landlord served them at the far end of the counter before they settled at a table in the bay window overlooking Southside Common. It was two of the girls Tom and Brian had met on bonfire night, Gaudy Ear-rings and Polo-Neck. Tom and Brian had made a good impression on the two girls before Hugh’s clumsiness had caused the girls to leave early.
Tom had been very keen on Gaudy Ear-rings at the time, but was now trying not to show too much interest with his mind focussed on Vicky. Brian, on the other hand, was delighted to see the girls. He had got on very well with Polo-Neck before the spilled beer caused her early departure.
Tom disappeared to serve a young couple with matching white anoraks.
‘You should give Guinness a try young Brian. It’ll darken your hair and get the girls interested. Lager’s a girls’ drink,’ Old George told Brian.
‘I’m sure you know your stuff George but I’ve tried Guinness and it tastes like shit. Besides, I’m a good looking chap and have no problem with the girls anyway.’ The two friends laughed together.
‘The Aussies all drink lager. All blond surfers.’ Old George was leading up to a story. ‘I had an Aussie mate during the war.’
Brian turned his chair more towards George and leant a little in his direction. He enjoyed the old man’s tales.
‘Me and the Aussie nearly died one day.’
Brian nodded, impressed so far.
‘It was in the desert. We were taking cover from dive bombers by the trucks. It was a blistering hot day and the sand was burning my flesh as I crouched down. Then this Stuka came out of the sun heading straight for us. They always came from the direction of the sun to make it difficult for our gunners.’ George paused to take a sip of his whisky. ‘The howl of the engines, high pitched, revving free in a steep dive, is horrifying.’ George paused again, now looking into the distance with fear in his eyes, as if he were back in the desert re-living his ordeal.
‘Then it pulled out of its dive and the squeal of its motor dropped to a cry of pain as it clawed itself away from our machine gunners. Then I saw a tiny black pinhead in the clear blue sky where the bomber had been. The small black dot began to grow. As the spot grew larger, a whistling sound began. Then the two of us both knew we were about to die. The Stuka’s bomb was heading straight for us. We froze, couldn’t move a muscle, as the spot grew larger and larger.’ He took another sip of his whisky.
Brian followed his lead and had a gulp of his lager, but couldn’t help asking, ‘Why didn’t you run?’
‘It all happened a lot quicker than I can tell the story. It was a matter of seconds, but when you know you are about to die, time seems to run in slow motion. I felt like I’d been watching the bomb fall towards me all day.’
‘So what happened?’ Brian asked in awe.
‘The bomb landed three yards from us.’
‘So why aren’t you dead?’
‘Defective bomb. Never went off. But it made a hell of a noise when it hit the ground. That’s what did my Aussie mate. Pushed him over the edge. The noise and the fear sent him gaga. He couldn’t speak. I took him to the hospital tent and never saw him again. He would probably have been alright if he hadn’t drunk so much lager when he was your age. Guinness and he’d have had nerves of steel.’
‘Nice try George, but I’ll stick to lager.’ Brian wasn’t going to be persuaded.
Smash, tinkle, curse. Tom broke a glass.
The landlady, a full figured woman in her late thirties, rushed to reprimand her young barman. As she hurried along the bar, her low cut blouse strained at every seam to contain her ample breasts. She tossed back her wiry blond hair as she squared up to Tom. ‘You students don’t have the common sense you were born with. I don’t know. Really.’ She took a deep breath before continuing. ‘If I’ve told you once …’ It was a familiar speech. ‘Never leave a glass on the brush. You always forget it’s there, then, sure as eggs is eggs, you smash the next glass on top of it.’
The glass-washing bowl had a rotating brush fixed in the middle pointing upwards and you pushed the dirty glasses over the brush.
The landlady squeezed Tom’s cheek and gave him a warm motherly smile. She had grown quite fond of him and enjoyed any opportunity for an exchange of words, even if it was to correct her part timer.
Tom smiled kindly back. He didn’t have the heart to tell her she had been the last to wash glasses.
Old George waved Tom over. ‘Usual please, a pint of Guinness and whatever you’re having.’ George wasn’t giving Brian any choice.
As Tom placed the drinks on the bar, he looked beyond his brother. The two girls were still there and had been looking over at Tom and Brian every now and then. Brian had smiled at them a couple of times. George had noticed.
‘You should get over there boy.’ George gave Brian an encouraging slap on the back. ‘You’re only young once.’
Brian didn’t need pushing. ‘Alright I’ll give it a go.’ He walked past the man with the moustache, past the couple in matching white anoraks and sat down at the girls’ table.
George and Tom watched with interest. Thirty seconds later he was still there. He’d made a good start. Thirty minutes later, George ordered another drink.
‘I think I’ll squeeze one more whisky down. Your brother’s got the gift Tom. He’s still going strong. I expect he’s saving one for you.’
‘Actually, I’m spoken for. I’m seeing a girl called Vicky up at the college.’
‘You married to her?’
‘No.’
‘Are you in love with her?’
Tom paused a little before giving the same answer. ‘No.’
‘Well then. Like I told your brother. You should get over there boy. You’re only young once. If I were 50 years younger …’
‘But George.’ Tom stopped him. ‘Vicky loves me and it would break her heart …’
‘Not if she didn’t find out.’ George’s wry grin widened.
‘But I’m too honest. She would see it in my face and I’d end up telling her. We’re really good together and I don’t want to spoil it.’
George looked over at the two girls laughing and joking with Brian. ‘Look at that pair of legs Tom.’
‘Yes. Yes. They’re very nice.’
‘I can see you’re tempted.’
‘That’s not the point.’ Tom looked at George before turning away to serve a customer.
When he returned, George was pulling on his tired old tweed jacket. He shook Tom’s hand vigorously and squeezed his shoulder. He leant forward and whispered a final word of advice. ‘I’ve seen you watching those girls and I can tell you something. If you don’t break Vicky’s heart tonight, you will soon enough.’ With that, he waved over to Brian and left.
As the landlord rang the bell for last orders, the angry Irish builder attracted Tom’s attention.
‘Um bay bab?’ The words ricocheted around the bar.
Tom repeated the words in his head but couldn’t see any meaning. Before Tom answered, the moustached man butted in. ‘I say young man, two more pints of your best bitter and two G and Ts.’
‘I’ll be right with you sir,’ replied Tom, while still facing the small builder. ‘Rum and peppermint?’
The short scarred man shook his head and repeated, ‘Um bay bab?’
Moustache Man was getting impatient. ‘Are you going to serve me or not.’
‘Um bay bab?’ screeched the builder.
Moustache Man had had enough. He pushed the little builder gently to one side in order to get Tom’s full attention. The builder was very angry now and shouted a string of indistinguishable expletives at the moustached man, who was not used to having his authority questioned and pointed his finger towards the builder. ‘Now look here my good m
an …’
That’s as far as he got. One swift punch from the builder square on the jaw knocked him out cold and he slumped to the floor against the bar. At that moment the landlord appeared from the cellar. He couldn’t see the flaccid man on the floor and thought all seemed as it should be.
The builder turned back to Tom and calmly repeated himself. ‘Um bay bab?’
The landlord once again came to Tom’s rescue. ‘I’ll take care of him. He wants you to order him a taxi.’
The moustached man reappeared above the bar, a little groggy and shook his head. He faced the builder. ‘I’ll have you in front of a magistrate for that. Assault. And I have a witness. The barman saw everything.’ He turned to face Tom and repeated himself. ‘You saw him hit me didn’t you boy?’
‘Sorry. Didn’t see a thing.’
The single punch had been so fast and so unexpected that Tom was the only person who had been watching. Moustache Man thought making an issue of the assault may prove futile and chose to make a scene instead, loudly gathering his wife and friends, vowing never to return to the Horse And Groom and making wild threats based on his close friendship with one of the local magistrates.
As the pub emptied, Tom busied himself wiping tables and clearing glasses. Brian was still entertaining the two girls, whose laughter filled the smoky air. Tom’s thoughts drifted to Vicky. It was three weeks since he had seen her and another three until he would see her again. It was a long Easter break and, although Tom missed her, he felt some relief. The pressure of being a dutiful boyfriend could be hard work.
His sexual urges towards her seemed to have gone home with her. He expected them to return when she did, but he had his doubts. Maybe she wasn’t the right girl for him.
The matter had been taken out of his hands. Brian called him over.
‘Tom, Sarah, Anita, Anita, Sarah, Tom. They’re coming with us to The Skin Shop.’
An hour later, Tom and Brian sat at a table in The Skin Shop while Sarah, formerly known as Gaudy Ear-rings, and Anita, formerly known as Polo-Neck, went to the bar.
‘Look at that bum Tom,’ urged Brian with great enthusiasm as Sarah swayed gracefully to the bar with Anita. They were at a table next to the main dance floor in the night-club.
‘Yes Brian. Nice. But I’ve got a girl.’ Tom had made it clear to his brother that he would only go to the club to keep the party atmosphere going and give Brian more chance of pulling. But he found himself following Sarah’s hips as they swung with each step. Her short red dress hugged her body leaving very little to the imagination. Anita wore a similar dress, but in white, and walked with the same grace as her friend.
The girls and Brian had already had a few drinks and Tom was a long way behind. He had enjoyed a few halves during his shift, but was not as buoyant as the others. Angry builders, pompous golfers and thoughts of Vicky had kept him sober, but the lively mood of the others was infectious. The girls returned with two blue cocktails and two pints, one of Guinness and one of lager.
Tom had only exchanged small-talk with Sarah on the way to The Skin Shop and the conversation had flowed easily. He had obviously made a strong impression when they met on bonfire night. She had fully accepted his reasons for not calling her. He remembered the insurance company she worked for, but didn’t know her name, otherwise he would have tried to contact her.
Sarah flashed her bright eyes in Tom’s direction and addressed him with a wave of the hand. ‘What do you think of my new dress?’ She jumped to her feet and twirled around, running her hands down the front of her body and bending her knees first to one side and then the other.
‘Stunning Sarah.’ It was an honest answer from Tom.
‘It’s a peach,’ added Brian, before sticking out his broad chest. ‘How do you like my T-shirt?’ He was wearing the shirt Tom had bought him on his birthday.
Tom noticed Anita’s eyes light up as Brian stuck his chest out. ‘Nice,’ she said following the outline of the pattern with the tip of her finger.
A couple of drinks later, Tom had put Vicky briefly to the back of his mind and suggested a dance. The girls giggled their way to the dance floor followed by the brothers. It was Love Cats by The Cure and Brian and Tom playfully bumped into each other. Between the four of them, they had drunk enough to find their slapstick antics quite funny.
Brian slipped his arm around Anita’s waist. Tom followed his lead. He didn’t want Sarah to feel left out and it couldn’t be classed as cheating on Vicky. They both placed their hands firmly in the middle of the girls’ backs, but as they jostled on the dance floor, Brian pushed Tom’s hand down over Sarah’s bottom. Tom moved it immediately. ‘I’m sorry. It was Brian,’ he quickly told her.
‘Don’t be,’ she replied and pushed his hand back down.
Tom thought he might return the favour to his brother. He turned towards them. No need. Brian had already planted both his hands on Anita’s bum. She laughed and draped her arms around his shoulders, still dancing. Tom was feeling slightly guilty now. This could possibly be counted as cheating on Vicky. He went to the bar. Another drink would keep his hands off Sarah. Then again, it may push him the other way.
Sarah joined him at the bar. The conversation bubbled along as they flirted and watched Brian and Anita on the dance floor.
Brian grabbed her around the thighs and lifted her above his head. She threw her arms in the air and Brian kept rhythm to What Difference Does It make by The Smiths. As that song finished, the final slow song of the night started, He put her down and held her close for In The Air Tonight by Phil Collins.
Sarah jumped off her seat, grabbed Tom by the hand and pulled him to the dance floor. Tom was close enough to smell Sarah’s perfume and felt her warm breath on his face, but he didn’t kiss her. Tom was still holding back. Sarah knew nothing about Vicky and assumed Tom was available.
Brian had no doubts about Anita. He liked her a lot. He pressed his stubbly cheek against Anita’s. He hadn’t shaved for two days. Lazy. He kissed her cheek softly. She looked deep into his eyes. She brushed her lips against his neck, pinching his rough skin between her lips. She worked her way up to his chin and round to his mouth. She kissed him gently on the lips. Moments later they had stopped dancing and kissed with vigour as the other clubbers danced around them.
The song finished, the house lights came up and the DJ urged Brian and Anita to ‘get a room’. Instead she went with Sarah to get their coats from the cloakroom, giving them chance to talk. They quickly agreed they didn’t want the night to finish yet.
Tom and Brian were waiting by the exit.
‘We have a bottle of wine back at our flat. How about sharing it with us?’ Anita asked the brothers. The two girls had a flat close to town centre.
Brian didn’t need to think about it. ‘Sounds great.’ He turned to Tom.
It was not such an easy answer for Tom. He was very fond of Sarah, but was also very fond of Vicky. He didn’t want to let his brother down either. Eventually he convinced himself that he had met Sarah before Vicky and if things had turned out differently, she could have been his girlfriend, so he should keep going and see what happens. ‘Yes. Excellent idea. Shall we get a taxi?’
‘No need,’ replied Sarah, ‘It’s only a five minute walk along the river.’
Tom held out his arm for Sarah. She took it and they left the nightclub arm in arm. It was a very mild night for April and there was no wind. There were a few clouds, but the bright moon peeped through every now and then, its soft rays flickering on the ripples of the narrow river.
Brian slipped his arm around Anita’s shoulder and she snuggled up against him. Tom and Sarah were behind the others. Tom thought he might appear distant if he didn’t follow his brother’s lead and, for the sake of group harmony, he slipped his arm around Sarah.
She responded by turning to face him. She reached both arms around Tom’s neck, stood on her tiptoes and kissed him gently on the lips. Tom didn’t want to appear insulting and the kiss lingered. After a
warm hug, they began walking again.
Things were getting difficult for Tom now. A kiss was definitely cheating on Vicky, but it had been rather nice and he was strongly attracted to Sarah.
Pop, gurgle, clink, cheers. The girls had a stylish two-bedroom flat in a smart courtyard development by the river. With a glass of wine in her hand, Sarah showed the boys around the flat followed by Anita. The boys were impressed and said so. Anita put some music on, a tape she had put together of seventies disco classics, which began with Play That Funky Music by Wild Cherry followed by Boogie Nights from Heatwave.
They had a soft cream leather three piece suite arranged around a pine coffee table and sheepskin rug with plants and books filling three tall pine shelving units from Habitat in town. Sarah lit a few candles and turned off the main lights. There was a tall standard lamp in one corner with a shell-like multi-coloured shade on a long chrome-plated shaft. This also came from a department store in town and cast soft coloured light across the room.
They played Trivial Pursuit on the coffee table. The brand new quiz game over from Canada, which had become very popular very quickly.
‘Yellow question Brian,’ said Anita.
‘Which is England’s largest castle?’ Brian asked.
‘No idea.’ Anita went for a second bottle of wine.
‘Who had their biggest hit with God Save the Queen in Her Majesty’s silver jubilee year,’ Sarah asked Tom.
‘Sex Pistols thank-you very much. Pink pie piece please,’ Tom took the lead as Sylvester played You Make Me Feel Mighty Real.
‘We could make this game more interesting,’ Brian said with a big smile.
‘How’s that?’ said Anita.
‘Have you ever played strip Trivial Pursuit?’
‘No. Have you?’
‘All the time,’ joked Brian.
‘I’ll give it a go,’ Sarah was keen.
‘And me,’ said Anita.
‘Tom?’ asked Brian.
Tom thought he was better at general knowledge than his brother and hoped he would be better than the girls. So he felt quite safe. ‘Yeah. Go on. How do you play?’
Love's Cold Burn Page 18
