Something Else

Cockney cab driver Lee Stevens sat in front of Coogee beach with his morning paper spread over his steering wheel, waiting for a fare.

It was a bright sunny morning in spring and was the first time the sun had shone after the wettest few weeks in months.

Tilting down the driving mirror to examine his unshaven chin, Lee yawned, catching sight of a girl with the most beautiful long dark hair walking alongside his car.

'Now that is nice,’ he told himself with a grin.

He followed her with his eyes, and as she passed the open window, he let out a long slow whistle, which made her glance around and blush.

As their eyes met, Lee winked, causing her to blush further, and she looked away.

Again he grinned.

He watched her walk to the end of the road, where she stopped, glanced casually back at him before disappearing around the corner.

Squinting in the sunlight, Lee pushed back his streaked blonde hair and wondered what the day had in store.

He reached for his cigarettes and found only one left. He took it, slung the empty packet out of the window and leaned back, resting his feet up on the passenger seat, examining the burn mark on his right arm.

Stupid bitch, he thought, remembering how his girlfriend had deliberately burned him with her cigarette when she caught him eyeing up another girl. He’d had enough of her just lately, but while she was washing and ironing for him and generally playing “wife”, why should he knock it back? She had no strings on him!

'Morning Lee,’ came the voice of an older man as he peered in through the window.

Lee glanced up, and when he saw Jack from the Britannia Bar wandering by with his dog, he half smiled, acknowledging him with a nod. ‘Alright, Jack, mate,’ he said.

Lee was originally from London and had arrived in Australia after having backpacked through Asia with some mates several years before. And as with the many UK visitors, he had been reluctant to go back when his visa ran out. He’d manage to get residency through an Australian girl he’d met, who’d been quite willing to go de-facto with him, jeopardising her relationship in the process – a thing that had angered her boyfriend – now ex, ever since.

There was a commotion down the road. When Lee looked up, he grinned, seeing Dave and Jimmy, two of his best mates.

They hadn’t worked since the day he’d met them and spent most of their time just hanging around and abusing the welfare system.

Like Lee, Dave and Jimmy were 23. Jimmy sported his Liam Gallagher sunglasses on the end of his nose, with his Liam Gallagher hairdo falling messily around his face. Whilst Dave, also the epitome of an Oasis fan, leaned against a lamp-post, taking the Mickey out of a couple of girls waiting at the bus stop.

'I don’t know about waiting for a bus, love,’ he was saying, having just copped a string of abuse for his cheek, ‘you look more like the back of one!’

Lee smiled to himself and thought, what a loser! Dave never really did have any idea as far as females were concerned.

He leaned across the passenger seat and stuck his head out of the window, shouting to them. ‘Oi!’

They both looked round, and recognising the cab straight away, abandoned their failed attempt at chatting up the girls, and went over.

'Haow yah gaowin, moit?’ asked Dave, in the worst imitation Aussie accent.

Jimmy strolled over, adjusting his sunnies.

'What’re you up to?’ asked Lee, taking a drag on his cigarette before flinging the passenger side door open to talk to them.

'Not a lot,’ replied Dave. ‘Have you got any gear?’ he then asked, lowering his voice a little.

Lee shook his head. ‘No mate, I thought you were s’posed to be getting some last night?’

Dave wiped his nose on the back of his hand as Jimmy bent down, elbowing him out of the way.

We tried, but we ran into Jez and Jerry in Sandcastles,’ he told Lee, with a wince. ’Remember, we pulled a fast one on ’em with them dodgy E’s? Well, apparently they sent ‘em ape shit, so we beat it - fast!’

Lee rolled his eyes with a shake of his head, not believing they’d even considered going into Sandcastles after that episode. ‘God, you two are idiots!’

Lee’s girlfriend: 22-year-old Claire Warner, was a sales assistant in Threads Boutique at the Southern International Hotel at Coogee Beach. She rummaged through a box of new season stock, her eyes not wanting to miss a thing.

Pulling out a short pink midriff top and a tight black PVC miniskirt, she held them against herself in front of the mirror, smiling smugly to herself. I will knock them dead Saturday night in this, she thought.

Jan, her manageress, then appeared behind her and smiled. ‘I knew you’d go for that little number,’ she told her. ‘Isn’t it this weekend that the new dance place you’ve been talking about opens?’

Claire nodded, not taking her eyes off her reflection, tucking her hair behind her ears. ‘Yeah – should be good. They’re supposed to be bringing a new DJ over from England.’

'Oh,’ commented Jan, having lost touch with the dance scene since she turned 36.

Claire’s background was English, and she had migrated to Australia with her parents when she was 10. She was a boisterous, outgoing girl – tall and slim with an amply large bust, thick blond hair and a pretty face. But even with all her attributes, she was never happy. She was bossy, vain and spoiled, and wasn’t the popular young thing she liked to think she was.

Stacey Jones arrived at the boutique dot on 10.00 o’clock. She had just become the window dresser of what she believed to be one of the best boutiques in Sydney.

She stood in the doorway and glanced around, not believing her luck.

Out of all the applicants, it was her who’d got the job! The first bit of good luck she’d had in a long, long time.

'Can I help you?’ came a voice from beside her.

'I’ve, er, come to see the manageress.’

The shop was small and quaint and very unique in design. The first description that sprung to Stacey’s mind was an explosion in a paint factory! There were brightly coloured poles spaced throughout the shop, all cut to different lengths, sizes and widths where the clothes hung on brightly coloured hangers in completely uncoordinated sections. The look was bazaar but worked, nonetheless.

Stacey felt an inner excitement as she followed the dark girl through to the back room, where she got introduced to a smartly dressed woman, who looked totally out of place in these busy, paintbox surroundings – she was too neat and tidy and very conservative.

'Hi,’ said Jan, welcoming Stacey with an outstretched arm. ‘Stacey Jones?’

'Yes,’ she nodded.

'Jan Winters.’ She smiled with her coral pink painted lips and opened a cupboard door. ‘You can pop your stuff in here,’ she told her, looking around for her bag. ‘I’m afraid I’m in a bit of a rush,’ she admitted. ‘I haven’t really got time to talk to you. There are only the four of us here, and we’re quite friendly, so you should feel at home. I’m sure Mike at head office has already told you that being the only window dresser for all three boutiques in Sydney that you’re your own boss – have you been to the other two shops yet?’

Stacey shook her head. ‘I’ve seen the one in the city, but not the one at Manly yet.’

Jan looked rushed as she checked her watch for the fifth time in just as many minutes. ‘Look, I’ve got to dash. I’ve got a meeting in the city. As I said, you’re your own boss while you’re here. What you plan for the window display is totally up to you, and you carry your themes out to the other branches over the next couple of days. Here …’ she then handed her a folder containing a pad of timesheets. ‘Just fill these in every day and give them back to me at the end of the week, and make sure you include travelling between shops.’

Stacey nodded as she took them from her.

'This, by the way, is Teresa,’ said Jan when the girl who’d first greeted her arrived back in the staff room with a carton of milk. ‘The other girl out there is Claire. Teresa, I’ll have to leave you to do the introductions. I’m sorry, Stacey, but I’m all over the place at the moment. Your equipment is in the cupboard beside the front window. There are all kinds of bits and bobs in there for you to play around with. But, if you need to go and buy some extras, take the money from petty cash, and leave the receipts in the cash register, okay?’

Again Stacey nodded, and with that, Jan mumbled something about managers meetings as she took a final look at her watch and whirled out of the staff room, saying she wouldn’t be back until after lunch.

Claire waited until Jan had disappeared before checking out the new girl. She looked Stacey up and down with a scowl – she didn’t like competition.

Lee drove down the side alleyway that led to the courtyard below his flat and turned off the engine.

He lit a cigarette and glanced up at the windows noticing the lights in his flat were on again.

He drew hard on the cigarette as he opened the car door looking just as pissed off as he felt. Then only getting halfway up the steps, he stopped, looked at his watch before turning round again. It was only 6.00 o’clock. He was going back down to the pub.

Lee pushed open the door of the Britannia Bar at the Southern International, looking particularly sour.

‘Back again!’ remarked Bob, not at all surprised to see his best mate return.

Lee threw him a knowing look as he shook his head – then headed towards the toilets.

‘Say no more,’ was Bob’s comment.

Once in the corridor where the bar sounds were minimal, Lee pulled out his mobile and punched in his home number. The phone just rang twice before Claire picked it up, her voice sounding extremely anxious. ‘Hello?’

His face turned even sourer, knowing she’d have been sitting there manically on the side of the sofa, having expected him home over an hour ago.

'Hi, it’s me.’ His tone was bland.

‘Where are you?’ she bleated, sounding distraught. ‘I’ve been trying to call you, but your mobile’s been turned off.’

Lee narrowed his eyes, pulling a face at the phone in his hand, totally irritated by her desperation.

‘I’m at the Sutherland RSL,’ he lied.

'Sutherland RSL! What’re you doing down there?’

'I’ve got that old geezer again. I’ve got to take him to Wollongong.’

'Wollongong! Jesus Christ, Lee! What is it with him; can’t someone else take him? That’s twice this week!’

'It’s my job. It’s just the way it goes,’ he told her with indifference.

She scowled on the other end of the phone, snatching a cigarette from the packet and lit it angrily. ‘It just isn’t fair,’ she whinged sulkily. ‘I’m fed up with sitting here on my own all the time.’

'Then go back to your place,’ he suggested, unable to make it any clearer than that. ‘Sarah will be thinking you’ve moved out.’

Claire took a couple of deep, agitated drags on the cigarette. She wasn’t interested in discussing that. She didn’t want to go back to her place. She wanted to be there, with him.

'How long do you think you’re going to be?’ she then asked.

‘Late,’ Lee told her flatly. ‘Don’t bother waiting up for me.’

The panic sounded in her voice. ‘What did you say? Lee, I can hardly hear you, you’re breaking up …’

‘What?’ he asked, raising his voice, ‘I can’t hear you, the reception’s not very good … hello? Claire, are you there? …’ Then smiling a devious kind of smile, he ended the call with a firmly poised finger on the button before shoving it back into his pocket with the ringer turned off and made his way back to join Bob, feeling a whole lot happier.

Back in the bar, Steve and Paul had arrived. Lee grabbed himself a beer and joined them at their usual table.

‘Alright?’ he asked, pulling up a chair, acknowledging them both with a nod as he sat down.

‘Alright,’ they both replied in return.

‘Where’s Claire?’ Bob dared ask with a smirk, knowing his excursion into the corridor when he’d come in for the second time would have to be Claire related.

Lee took a long sip of beer before answering, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand as he did so.

'Round my joint, by all accounts. I’m down at the Sutherland RSL at the moment – in the middle of taking old Harry to Wollongong, and I won’t be home ‘til late … don’t wait up!’

Paul frowned, placing his schooner in the middle of his coaster. ‘That’s twice this week,’ he remarked.

Lee frowned back at him as he thought, cocking an eyebrow before nodding. ’Funny you should say that … that’s exactly what she said!’

They all had a snigger.

'Hey,’ Steve then said, moving in closer over the table. ‘Has anyone scored any gear for Saturday night yet?’

Lee shook his head. ‘No, not yet, but I’ll be getting some later in the week. What’re you after?’

‘Just the usual.’

‘What about you?’ he asked, turning to Paul.

‘The same.’

Bob sat back in his seat and pulled something out of his pocket before leaning forwards again and showed them a large chunk of Hash he’d got.

‘Wow!’ exclaimed Steve, his eyes lighting up.

Lee chewed the inside of his cheek as he studied it. ‘Where the fuck did you get that from?’

Bob pulled a face. ‘Just some bloke Billy knows. It’s supposed to be wicked!’

He grinned, running a hand over his heavily waxed black hair. ‘Who fancies coming back to mine and getting into it?’

Lee was officially spangled!

It was 12.30 am, and he needed his bed.

He left Steve and Paul at Bob’s place and made his way home through the backstreets as he didn’t want to go walking to the car in the morning.

That stuff had been wicked alright. The four of them had been bonkersville for the best part of the evening - their conversation bouncing backward and forward, verging on the insane.

He parked the car in its usual spot and turned the lights and engine off. He got out, scratching the key in the lock, not realising the state of he was in. And then stumbling his way up the dimly lit steps, only now thought of Claire - she’d better not be waiting up for him.

Silently, he unlocked the door.

There was no sound.

He checked the bedroom, and there he found her laying flat out in a deep slumber before finding out why - there were two empty wine bottles on the coffee table. Retaliation, he figured. She’d drank herself stupid again. Oh well, good luck to her!

Lee then took himself into the bathroom, where he locked the door before turning on the light.

He sat down on the side of the bath feeling absolutely shattered, dropped his head into his hands, and closed his eyes for a moment.

He’d had a succession of late nights - too much booze, too many fags and far too many pills – he was really going to need to slow down a little, then lifting his head, he stared at the ceiling, letting out a heavy sigh - his mind racing all over the place although his body was physically drained.

He got up, feeling horribly dehydrated. Running the cold tap, he leaned over the sink and caught the flow of water in his mouth, then cupping his hands splashed it over his face, before wiping himself dry with the end of his tee-shirt.

Hmm, he thought to himself. The picture on his tee-shirt of Pulps Jarvis Cocker looking pale and bug-eyed with the caption, ‘Sorted For E’s And Wizz’ seemed quite ironic as he glanced at his reflection. He thought Jarvis looked tired and pale, but he was far paler – and he had dark rings around his eyes, then feeling the stubble on his chin, remembered he hadn’t shaved that day, and it looked far worse since it was so much darker than the hair on his head.

He pushed back the wet strands that broke free from his ponytail, only for them to fall back down again, when another face sprung to mind.

He frowned, trying hard to remember the girl with the shiny black hair who walked past his cab that morning. Now, he told himself, with a feeling of lust stirring inside, what I would like to do with her! He sat on the floor and leaned against the door closing his eyes, trying hard to visualise her. She looked lovely - he’d be definitely keeping an eye out for her again!

Stacey was woken by the sound of Blur blasting out Song One on her radio alarm clock as she tried to turn over and go back to sleep – but it wouldn’t work. She was too wide awake now. She snuggled into her pillow, thinking of the good day she had got ahead, and seeing the sun peeking in through the curtains, decided to get up.

Outside, it was a beautiful day. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and the temperature had already hit 28 degrees.

She raked through her sparse wardrobe and looked for a moment to see what would be appropriate, and feeling not entirely sure, chose a pair of black baggy cargo pants and a halter-neck top with a pair of flat sandals.

It was just after nine when Stacey left her flat. She made her way to The Coffee Shop at the Sandcastles complex where her girlfriend Katie worked.

‘Hey Stace,’ said a sleepy-looking Katie when she walked in.

Stacey settled herself into a seat by the window and looked out towards the bus shelters on Arden Street, but the barbecue cabins and trees obscured the view. The picture in her head of the guy she’d seen the day before was still very, very clear, and she’d been hoping to get another glimpse of him today.

'You alright?’ asked Katie, noticing how she was peering out of the window.

'Yeah,’ she said, snapping herself back to reality, ‘I’m fine,’ and then getting all excited, she grinned, ‘I’m starting my new job today.’

Katie grinned back at her. ’I know, you must be so happy!’ She tossed back her thick copper curls and sat upright, taking in her every expression.

'Hey!’ Katie then remembered, folding her arms in front of herself and leaning halfway across the table, ‘Have I got news for you!’ She gave Stacey a knowing smile and raised her eyebrows a couple of times. ’Joe’s been asking about you … I think he really fancies you!’

Stacey threw her a look having heard it all before.

'And before you start,’ she said, putting a hand up to make her listen. ‘Why don’t you just give him a go? You’d really like him if you got to know him properly. He’s a really nice guy, and really knows how to treat a chick.’

'Yeah, right,’ said Stacey, cynically, ’that’s why he’s beating ‘em off with a stick, is it?’

Katie pulled a face at her, not understanding her problem. ’Look, he’s had heaps of girlfriends, but I reckon he fancies you big time! Why don’t you just give it a go? Troy and me are going out on Friday night. Why don’t you come along and make up a foursome? You’ve got nothing to lose, I mean, it’s not like you’re seeing anyone else or anything, is it?’

Thankfully just then, Katie got called away to the counter. ‘Hang on a sec,’ she said. ‘I’ll be back in a mo.’

Stacey heaved a heavy sigh as she rested her elbow on the table with her chin propped on her open palm and shook her head sadly. What was it with Katie? Why was she constantly trying to fix her up with Joe? He wasn’t her type in the slightest. She gazed back out the window again, thinking if it had been the guy in the cab she’d seen yesterday, then it might have been a different story. And it was while she was thinking this that the unimaginable happened.

At first, she seemed to look straight through him, but as she began to focus on what was happening outside, her mouth fell open, and she found herself immediately trying to duck out of view. It was the guy from the blue taxi firm.

He waited patiently as his passengers attempted to get out, turning around and watching them over the back of the seat.

God, how lovely was he? She studied him, taking in every detail, having been unable to look at him properly yesterday when he’d winked at her causing her to blush ferociously. She bit into her bottom lip, eventually daring to sit a little further forward but still not wanting to get caught.

The old guys struggled with the door until the driver gave up and got out to help them. They couldn’t have been a day under a hundred, and she wondered what they were doing out unsupervised.

Running a hand over his tied-back hair, he squinted in the sunlight, glancing up and down the street as he waited for the doddery duo to sort themselves out.

God, he was gorgeous. He was tall and slim, and judging by his appearance, had to be a Pom. It was a thing she’d learned to pick up on since she’d been in Coogee. The Brits had a definite way of dressing, as did the Yanks, the Swedes and other Europeans.

She couldn’t take her eyes off him - then as he got back into the car, he did a u-turn, and she found herself sitting upright, peering out of the window as hard as she could until finally, he disappeared out of view.

Stacey sat back deflated.

When Katie returned, she noticed the expression on her face. ‘What’s up?’ she asked.

'You just missed the most gorgeous looking guy,’ she told her friend earnestly. ‘If Joe looked like that, he’d be beating me off with a stick, that’s for sure.’

Katie nearly did a Reagan from the Exorcist as her head spun around, wanting to behold such a man who could make Stacey sit up like that.

‘It’s too late,’ she told her. ‘He’s gone.’

Katie sank back in her seat, and after studying Stacey’s forlorn expression, flipped the tea towel at her, telling her to pull herself together. ‘Now stop going for the unavailable ones and give Joe a chance … if you don’t want to come out with us on Friday, then come to the rave with us on Saturday night. The whole crowd will be going.’

That evening the weather had changed. A southerly wind had whipped up, and a big storm was on its way.

Stacey got off the 6 o’clock bus, wrapped up in a thousand thoughts, and folding her arms around herself to keep the invading wind out, hoped to get up the road before the storm broke.

She hadn’t had the easiest of days.

The Manly branch of Threads had been much larger than the one at Coogee. There had been more staff to interfere and a manageress who had poked her nose into everything.

Stacey was exhausted.

She had left work at four to miss the peak hour traffic, but having missed the early ferry, had had to hang around for the next one, which ended up arriving half an hour late, causing her to miss the connecting bus at Circular Quay. And with the storm rapidly approaching, the queues were enormous and the buses packed.

Stacey wasn’t used to city life having been brought up in the Blue Mountains. She had been adopted from birth to a childless family and had been “wrapped up in cotton wool” so to speak, for the best part of her life. And it wasn’t until she left school at 16 that she had managed to gain any kind of independence at all.

Having not wanted to stay on to do year twelve, Stacey enrolled at the local TAFE and took on a two-year course in window dressing, and it was there that she met Alan, her first serious boyfriend.

Alan was a 20-year-old trainee chef. They had got on well right from the start and in no time formed a strong relationship. But with Stacey’s parents being the way they were, she had to restrict their times together to college hours, only managing to get a night out at the weekend when or if a crowd of their friends were going out together.

As difficult as it was, the relationship managed to survive the two years of college, and when their courses ended, Alan took off, accepting an offer to work in a restaurant in Perth, leaving Stacey lost. She still hadn’t made many close friends of her own, and it was by chance one day, when she was travelling home on the train after job-hunting in the city, that she met Katie.

Katie was going to visit her Grandmother in Lawson one weekend and had sat next to Stacey on the train. They had got talking with one another, Stacey telling her about where she lived and the course she had done, and how she hadn’t managed to find work, and Katie told her of her lifestyle in Coogee. Stacey was impressed and loved the idea of moving to the sea, but her parents would be devastated. They’d swapped phone numbers, and Stacey hadn’t thought she would hear from the wild-haired Katie again. But she did - the following weekend.

It was by this time Stacey’s father had decided to downgrade their home. He wasn’t getting any younger and nor was her mother, so they made plans to sell up and buy a smaller property further into the mountains, which prompted Stacey to move out. Katie offered her a place to stay until she sorted herself out. But Stacey’s parents thought, if she was going to move, then to make sure she was safe and comfortable, they bought her a small one bed-roomed flat overlooking the sea at Coogee Beach.

For the first time, things were looking up. It hadn’t been easy finding a job at first, but now, just three months later, Stacey had scored the best job she’d ever imagined. How much luckier could she have been? From the moment Katie had come into her life, everything had started to look up.

Stacey felt the first spots of rain just as she reached home and felt quite reluctant to go back out to meet Katie. The only thing that gave her incentive to bother now was the thought of maybe running into the blue cab driver again. She hadn’t stopped thinking about him all day.

Jimmy came into the Southern Internationals games room whistling with all the joys of spring, while Dave followed sourly behind him.

‘What’s your problem?’ Bob asked, with a crooked smile, knowing whatever it was, had definitely amused Jimmy.

Dave slumped down into an empty seat beside Paul.

‘Bleedin’ Centrelink found me a job; reckon I wasn’t really trying.’

'Well, you haven’t,’ commented Paul, leaning back and giving him the once over in amazement.

‘They reckon they’re going to stop me dole cheque if I don’t show up Monday morning.’

Jimmy took a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket and slung them down on the table for anyone who wanted one. Paul was the most surprised, as he’d already noticed his new clothes and narrowed his eyes as he looked at him suspiciously. ’Don’t tell me you’ve got a job too?’ he asked.

Jimmy threw him a look. ‘Not me mate,’ he said cockily. ‘I’m shrewd, me!’

‘So where’d all the new clobber come from? You haven’t been sneaking around peoples clotheslines again, have you?’

‘Have I fuck!’ he answered in disgust. ‘I had a bit of luck on the horses, didn’t I.’

Their attention then turned back to Dave as he took one of Jimmy’s cigarettes and lit it, having never seen him looking that far down in the dumps before.

'So what’s it they’ve got you doing?’ Bob asked.

Jimmy snorted at the question and collapsed down over the table, laughing while Dave felt even more pissed off.

'Bloody ice-cream man on the beach.’

They all burst out laughing, and Dave slumped further down in his seat, knowing his reputation was going to be completely shot to pieces once they saw his uniform.

‘Ice-cream man?’ questioned Steve.

'Yeah, the bastards! It’s a new idea the council’s come up with now the beachfront’s been finished.’

‘Oh well,’ commiserated Paul, ‘at least it’ll only be for the summer months. What exactly do you have to do?’

Jimmy laughed louder, cradling his head in his arms, visualising it quite vividly.

'I’ve got to walk along the beach pushing a fuckin’ stupid trolley, with a fuckin’ stupid umbrella, wearing an, even more, fuckin’ stupid green and gold striped fuckin’ uniform – like one of them bleedin’ lifesaver people!’

‘ … Not wearing one of those awful hats?’ asked Bob, worriedly.

Dave nodded.

‘Oh my God!’

There was a lot of smirking going on behind hands when Lee appeared looking, apparently, quite pleased with himself.

‘Alright?’ he asked of no one in particular. He nodded towards Jack behind the counter as he pulled up a chair beside Bob. ‘How’re you doing?’

Bob nodded with a so-so expression on his face. ‘I’m alright. How about you? How’d you get on last night when you got home. Was she still up?’

Lee shook his head with a grin as he lit a cigarette. ‘Nah, she’d got herself plastered again, never heard me come in. I ended up crashing out on the sofa and woke up with her in my face at the crack of dawn.’

'Painful,’ winced Bob.

Lee shrugged with indifference. ‘Goes in one ear and out the other, mate.’

'So where is she tonight … or should I be asking where you’re meant to be?’

'She’s got the shits big time! She’s gone to the flicks with the birds tonight. I think it’s meant to upset me!’

'Did she find out you never really went to Wollongong last night?’

Lee took a long drag on his cigarette and shrugged again, leaning away from the smoke as he blew it out slowly. ’Dunno. She just told me I reeked of booze and wanted to know where I’d been, who I’d been with, what time I got in at … ’

‘Spanish Inquisition’ said Bob, knowingly,

‘Spanish Inquisition’ confirmed Lee.

‘Fancy a game of pool, Lee?’ Steve then asked, noticing one of the tables was free now.

Lee turned to Bob, ‘what d’you reckon, a game of doubles to get our own back?’

Bob thought about it before scraping back his seat and dogging the end of his cigarette out in the over-flowing ashtray. ‘Yeah, why not.’

Two young girls came into the games room. They wandered around from machine to machine until they found the ‘penny falls’. The redhead stopped, pulling some coins from her purse and carefully dropped them into the machine. ‘I was always good at this as a kid,’ she confided to her mate. She waited a moment to see what would happen, and when nothing did, she fed in another couple. Suddenly there was a loud clatter as the coins avalanched down into the metal tray. ‘Ooooh, Marie, look!’ she exclaimed with glee, eagerly scooping up her meagre winnings.

'Prime target,’ muttered Lee, glancing in Jimmy’s direction.

Jimmy was craning his neck, having watched the girls since they had entered the place. ‘Oi, darling!’ he bellowed above everyone’s chatter. ‘If I stick a couple of coins in you, do your knickers drop that quick?’

Everyone stopped and looked around at the girl, and there was an instant eruption of laughter throughout the games room - even Jack behind the counter couldn’t hide his smile.

The girl flushed a ferocious shade of red. And grabbing her friend by the arm, they fled out of the door.

'What a bastard!’ laughed Lee, shaking his head as he positioned the balls in the triangle. 'One day, someone is going to crack him one so hard!’ Then he turned his attention back to the game, asked Paul, ‘did you stay long after I left last night?’

Paul lined up his first shot to break. ‘Yeah. I never made it home. Wicked gear that! And speaking of wicked gear, has anyone seen anything of Billy?’

'He reckons he’s on the wagon for a month,’ answered Steve, chalking his cue.

'No wonder,’ remarked Bob. ‘See the state of his at Dee’s party! It took him nearly a week to recover.’

'I’m going to have to give it a bit of a rest myself,’ admitted Lee. ‘Ever had the feeling you’re killing yourself?’

Bob nodded as he bent to take his next shot. ‘Only too well. Gets out of control, doesn’t it?’

‘Tell me about it.’

Steve sniffed back a laugh, ‘Claire’s fighting a losing battle, eh?’ he remarked, thinking of her pitiful attempts at trying to stop Lee’s pill-popping habits.

Lee threw Steve a look that confirmed Claire didn’t have a chance in hell in changing any of his habits.

'If she had her way, she’d have him down the aisle with a 25-year mortgage and a never-ending string of nappy rash!’ said Bob.

'Fat chance!’

'So what are you going to do about it?’ asked Steve. ’You two are at each other’s throats constantly. Why don’t you just give her the elbow?’

‘Timing, mate,’ he replied in short. ‘Timing.’ He gave Bob a knowing wink rousing Paul and Steve’s interest.

'Yeah, what’s been going on? What haven’t you told us about?’ Paul abandoned his shot to hear the gory details.

'Nothing …’

’Yet!’ added Bob.

Lee looked lustfully hopeful, spurring Steve and Paul’s interest further.

'This sounds to me like there’s a female involved.’

But Lee didn’t get to go into more detail as Dave came over and interrupted them.

'What’re we going to do then?’ he asked, not looking any brighter. ‘I’m not hanging around here for the night; fancy going for a beer?’

It was a question that didn’t need asking twice as moments later they were leaving the games room, deciding to get a carry-out and go back to Lee’s for a few.