Chapter Eight – Flying again
J found himself reminiscing when he entered the school playing fields, it was empty ,the school had long since been turned into housing associations flats, even though they looked more like squats nowadays.
He went into a type of nostalgic numbness, was it the adrenaline kicking in ?
He could see himself scoring the winner goal in the semi-final of the youths District development Cup. A classic flying header from a pinpoint cross from his old mate MM.
True to the nature of poor education he was always reminded by the PE teacher that he would never make the grade at sport ,’just as cocky as your brothers’ Deedstone would remind him on a regular basis, last J had heard about him was that he had caught the big C and died in agony.
But nobody could take that moment of brilliance away from J and the other bunch of desperados.
In a childlike daze J wandered around a bit more ,he was enjoying this time warp buzz. Did he enjoy it back in the day?, he asked himself absentmindedly .
He remembered the school swimming pool ,where the whole class would be humiliated into freezing wrecks as they attempted to stay alive in the yellow v green house Awareness sessions in 2 metres of dredge. The girls were even more humiliated than the lads .
J passed what would have been the music room where he and the boys practiced’ abstract realism in philosophical rooms’ as Mrs Walters reminded delightfully to them as they were given boring instruments and told they had no talent, would never become musicians, as they could not read music. Surreally and comically she empathised all this while she waved an imaginary conductors baton in the fresh air. She succumb to a broken heart apparently when her husband left her for the local folk singer.
What snapped J out of his reverie was the sound of police sirens across the road ,’somethings never change’ he chuckled as he entered the permanent fixture of the Old Princes Crook ,and reminisced about prices of alcohol; as he sneaked up to the beer stained antique bar counter.
J was starting to enjoying his little trip ,and the no 63 return journey back to no man’s land was not due for another 2 hours……
Chapter Nine – P time
‘Personal ,physical perpetrator pact ,pharmaceutical philosophy pertaining platitudes plus procrastination.’
This is what J surprisingly remembered whilst ruminating inside his mind on the steps of the faithful old Inn.
This riddle again came back to J as he sipped his pint of Princes Purity, a very nice strong cider which could only be found in such establishments as The Old Princes Crook.
When he was a novice drinker ,the ‘wet behind the ears gang ‘would just about be allowed into the pub ,on the condition of listening ,learning and not getting sozzled.
The 10 P’s game or rather an institution was the barometer of the harden drinkers coherence, judgement and slurring skills.
After each pint one of the P’s would be added to the barmaid alongside the payment for some fine old grog.
J tried to remember the name of the best P talker as he sided up to the bar for another pint ,before the bus journey back to the greylands.
‘Big Frank Croft ‘he blurted out to the few haggled regulars. He got no response and sat back down with a heavy sigh.
Frank used to get to the last P, about ten pints in, and then stand on the pool table and pronounce at 11 he will be Pissed to the amusement and whooping of the rest of the P gang ..such memories, where are Big Frank and the boys now ,must be all departed, old age ,illnesses and too much laughter did it for them.
J drank his last mouthful of tipple and let out a belch and departed the pub ,the bus was already there waiting .
He had had a great day the past offered him salvation ,tomorrow the counselling session is scheduled with ‘the isolation resilient team’ at 10 am, how he hated such forced meetings.
On the way back to Dead city he thought of 2 more P’s. Pride and punctuality.
Chapter Ten – Fake Hero
J was out early, the ‘Pay as you feel Cafe ‘should be open and he needed a cup of coffee and a meagre meal.
He had a headache also he needed some strength to face ‘the isolation resilience team’ later in the morning.
‘Good morning J ‘chirped Mr. P from somewhere behind the counter .’Set them tables up and a nice bit of brekkie is on its way ,curtesy of The Pay as you feel Cafe manifesto ‘Mr. P added with a hearty laugh.
The breakfast was good the full works and 3 cups of coffee on the house. The best breakfast in town.
J was humbled by the generosity and warmth that he received from the family who ran the business for well over 30 years now .
MR P,s eldest daughter was in his class at school.
On numerous occasions J had to step in and stop some of the abuse directed at Nadua and the other girls (and boys) from the predictable and unfounded hatred ,racism and general misogyny associated with a large number of ‘the lads’ imaginary macho man attempts.
He got a lot of stick for his efforts, even violence and threats, but being a principled type back then he always won the arguments.
Nadua’s parents never forgot J acts of bravery ,kindness and maturity.
He often wondered what Nadua’s life was offering her, she got married soon after leaving school and left the cold old town for warmer and more exotic life.
The family did not mention her very often ,but the heroics of J,s bravery were never dismissed.
After leaving the warmth and nostalgia of The Cafe, the next trip would be to the betting shop, for his daily dalliance with the gee gee’s.
He picked his 5 selections ,with no particular confidence and placed his bet with Joanne behind the counter.
‘Feeling lucky today J’ she asked.
‘Not particularly ‘,just getting my normal routine going before heading for the joys of ‘the isolation resilient team’ meeting at 10 am. ‘he sadly offered as a way of reply.
‘What do you achieve in those meeting? ‘Joanne asked with sincerity.
‘Well if I win enough for a round of drinks from today’s bets I can tell you in detail’..
J could not believe that he had made such a crude attempt at a casual date.
‘No problems J ‘Joanne replied whilst serving Vinny Ross one of the regulars.
J quickly departed with blushing cheeks and a pristine betting slip.
Did she mean no problems with the drinks and chat or no problems with Vinny getting to be able to spread the gossip as usual.
Anyway J trudged of towards the municipal centre for the team bonding crap that he had to attend to maintaining his status as a first class citizen of town and country.
As he was about to go in the revolving doors somebody called his name out . VERY LOUDLY……
To be continued…
Notes:
‘The Open Team Talk’ sessions gilded the subject matters for each chapter which tries to capture the essence of civilization of HP11 postcode and beyond.
