Elsa May Green, Chapters seven, eight and nine.

Chapter Seven.

Friends no more.

The walk to the King’s head hailed a welcome relief as we left the battlegrounds of the park. Gabriel and Ruben trailed behind us with Michael and Camilla taking up the front of the group, leaving me and my once princess stuck in the middle. It was as awkward an occasion as I had ever experienced with anybody, worse than the time Elsa found one of my adults-only magazines under my bed when we were fifteen, nothing compared to this. It was as if I forgot who she was, and a mere stranger walked by my side. The silence became deafening.

‘Ruben is up for a promotion at work has he mentioned it to you Michael?’ asked Elsa vocally, knowing full well I would hear her. What she did not know is he had told me days before.

‘Tom, who the hell is he, she had never called me that before, she always addressed me as Thomas. Everyone else shortened it, but not her. This was a thing between us, it was ours, and yet in the space of twenty minutes, my name vanished like a single sock in the washing machine. What an absolute bitch,’ I thought.

‘Any promotions for you, Tom?’ asked Elsa, turning her head to look back at me.

I knew what was happening; she was angry, jealous even. This emotion just stoked my fire I liked it and I felt determined to bring it to the fore. We traded shrouded insults to the King’s head before finally setting ourselves at our table and taking our first sip on the road to intoxication. I poured the earlier awkwardness and insult trade-off into my wineglass in the form of Beaujolais.

I could not help but slyly watch Elsa and Ruben, their body movements, the way they looked at each other. It was difficult to remain focused on the team, and then it happened.

‘So, Elsa, how long have you and Ruben been together?’ piped Camilla much to mine and the shock of the entire table. The air turned frigid as Elsa's eyes sneered in her direction.

‘Ruben and I are good friends.'

Camilla had noticed the same thing as me, her remarks confirmed that I was not being paranoid.

‘Good friends, where did that come from, and who the hell was Tom!’ I thought.

‘Ah okay, you seem remarkably close, all that touching and giggling,’ replied Camilla.

Elsa shrugged off the remark, turned to Ruben, and carried on with their snug conversation, which the rest of us were not privy to.

‘So, is there anything you want to tell us?’ I asked, looking directly at Ruben.

‘There is nothing to tell Tom, you are being paranoid!’ he replied, turning back to Elsa.

The comment and his actions annoyed me, and I could feel the little monster growing inside me, creating a snarling beast.

‘Really Ruben, you two have snuggled together for the past few days!’ I roared.

‘Leave it Tom,’ whispered Michael.

‘No, Mike I won’t leave it, I am not stupid you know, well Ruben do you have anything to say?’

‘Yes Tom, I have something to say, you are like a man possessed when your paranoia takes over, and to be honest it has become a tad irritating. It has been annoying for years. You drag us down when you behave in this manner, you are like a spoilt child!’

‘Wow, I did not see that coming,’ I thought.

‘Really, well you are an arsehole Rube, how does that sound, mister annoying arsehole!’

'The only one here being an arsehole at this moment is you, you are embarrassing yourself and us!' Ruben retorted.

‘Ooh I am embarrassing you am I, whoop de woo!’ was my childish response.

‘What about you Mike, do you feel the same way as him?’

‘Tom, Rube, come on, this is stupid!’ Michael replied, desperate to turn down the heat of exchanges.

‘Gabe, I will ask you, do you have the same view of me as your brother?’

‘Tom, I don’t want to get in the middle of something, I truly don’t.’

‘Really Gabe, that’s not what you said to me a few nights ago, he was a royal pain in the arse according to you!’ snapped Ruben.

‘What about you Elsa, do you agree with them?’

Elsa’s reply meant everything to me. Her answer would determine whether I would remain friends with these people sitting around the table, Ruben had opened an almighty can of worms and only she could close it.

‘Thomas, listen to me, I have expressed my opinions with you before, yes you can be a little difficult. I know you played witness to many sad moments in your life, but sometimes you are a tough person to be around.

'Oh, bugger off the lot of you.'

'We are not children anymore, and it is time to face up to being an adult. The pact created by you died at the riverbank when we were teenagers, or at least it did with me. You brought Camilla with you to the park, you didn’t ask any of us whether we would want her there. This week has always been our group having fun together. You are my friend, nothing will change that, but you need to let go of the past and live in the present!’ Elsa replied.

‘This is a joke, right?’

‘No Tom, this isn’t, but I hate to say this to you because you are my friend, but you can act like a child throwing your pact around and that’s a bit of a joke!’ snapped Ruben.

A deathly silence opened the door, invaded the area, and planted itself between me and the four of them. Camilla remained mute, much to my disbelief. One minute ago, I wanted the earth to devour me, but now my skin was searing as the fire inside me grew. I was bracing for battle.

‘Who was he to speak to me in that fashion, he acts like a four-year-old and as for Elsa’s judgments, she can stick them up her exquisitely formed bottom where they belong? The rules exist and have endured for a reason to defend us all from incidents such as these. They are unspoken and yet they are there, there is no book, just an acknowledgment of their reality, or at least that’s what I assumed,’ I thought.

‘You may think it’s a joke but had I realized your thought's about the pact Ruben then maybe I would have...’

I interrupted myself in my verbal tracks from discharging my love for Elsa and my pain following her remarks and pouring them out on the table in front of me.

‘Then maybe you would have done what, Tom?’ asked Camilla politely.

‘It doesn’t matter, none of it matters anymore, Camilla,’ I replied, rising to my feet.

‘If that’s what you think Ruben, that is fine, and Elsa, you are right, I lived by a pact, an agreement I created, and yes, I might come across as stupid or annoying. Let me say though, had I known about all of your feelings toward me, I would have left this group a long time ago.’

‘Hey, come on Tom mate, everybody please stop, this is ridiculous!’ said Michael, trying desperately to father the situation.

‘No Mike, I will not remain somewhere I am not appreciated, I am out; you enjoy the rest of your lives!’ I shrieked before taking Camilla by the hand and striding out of the pub, infuriated.

I exited the bar fuming and yet I recognized Ruben was right; I appreciated I hung onto a naïve childhood agreement. There was a side to me protesting to adulthood, and yes, I could behave like a juvenile. I required one thing that I had left behind in the King’s Head, Elsa. The image of growing old without her in my life frightened me, whether just an acquaintance or something more. I realised at that very point that my world had changed forever, and our solidarity underwent an enormous blow. They smashed my heart into fragments with their judgments, and I did not know what to do next.

‘You have never mentioned this pact to me, Tom!’ said Camilla.

‘Please, just leave it, Camilla now is not the time,’ I replied sternly.

‘No, it never is with you, Tom!’

'Really Camilla, you are going to start this here, right now in the middle of the street, I have about as much as I can take today but for your information, yes I created the pact to protect Elsa.

‘To protect Elsa from what?’

‘You love her, don’t you?’ she asked, her eyes searching mine, I just stood there in the middle of the street like a wounded soldier on the battlefield.

‘Oh my gosh, you do, I should have known, it’s so obvious, why didn’t I see it, I am so stupid!’

I had nothing to say as there was nothing that I could say, Camilla was right.

‘Thank you for the day at the park today but I think for the time being at least, I am going to go home and despise you, Tom, there is a part of me that craves to punch you in the face for being an utter shit sack, but I am a lady so I won’t’

I watched as this PVC-clad girl strolled down the pavement away from me. She yanked open the box of secrets deep within me, and she did not like its contents. I always thought I could not feel anything for anyone else but Elsa. But right at that moment, anguish overcame me. The misery which I had experienced in the past bringing feelings of longing and enormous hopelessness. I was letting a woman walk out of my world, who genuinely cared about me, and going after one that didn’t and even with that arsenal of knowledge, I let Camilla fade into the distance without another word being spoken. My entire life had crashed to my feet in the space of fifteen minutes, and I did not understand what I was going to do about it.

I realized I wasn’t running back to the Kings for another round of let’s make Tom look like a performing ignoramus, so elected for a walk instead to clear my brain, and I knew just the place to do so.

Chapter eight.

Warrior in the woods.

I plodded towards the edge of the town, seeking the calm and shelter of Oversley woods that sat to the east, a place we used to play as children. They were dank, cold, and inviting as the light from the sun became increasingly shrouded by the trees which sought to add to the macabre ambiance, their branches reaching at me, trying to imprison me. Further and further I tread into its dark embrace with no thought as to my intention. I was just desperate to hide away, to remove my presence from the people laughing at me. This was something I did frequently as a child, to make my fantasy world and to exist within it, especially if my parents were verbally snatching at each other’s throats like a pack of crazed wolves tearing at their prey. It was self-protection, a way I could survive in the bleak times that had haunted my life and live a normal reality.

The light faded, eclipsed by a coal-like blackness and the air turning colder by the minute. Anger and regret I had harboured a few moments before, replaced by a sense of fear and excitement. The feelings like the emotions I felt when we would visit the cemetery late at night as teenagers. We knew nothing terrible could happen to us, and yet there was always a foreboding of trepidation.

I reached my chosen destination and placed myself under the branches of an arched oak tree. The darkness and silence pitched at volume, and my mind tuned into the surroundings of this forbidden forest. Every creak of a branch, each snap of a twig echoed inside of me as I became part of this mystical land that was forming before my eyes. A tiny ray of sunlight squeezed through the foliage, creating patterns against the brush. I could see evil glares staring at me through the thicket.

Hoisting my makeshift sword aloft, I donned my armour to show the perilous creatures that lay in wait that this soldier was bracing for battle, ready to snatch the last breath from every one of them.

Pushing down the steel visor on my helmet, I took a bold stance as the creatures lifted themselves from the darkness to reveal their rotting bodies. They snarled, I thrust my blade in front of me. They attacked one by one and then all at once. I brandished my weapon of choice, slicing at their skin and vacating them of their demonic lifeblood. With mouths of blood and insipid wail, they threw themselves at me with their claws erect and ready to slice at my flesh. They were incessant, but I held strong. This square metre of dross would not be theirs, not while I had a beating heart. I could taste the heat and putrid scent of their splutter as I disemboweled with each lunge. The battle was torrid; I felt hurt but not beaten as the remaining few backed away into the murky cloak. I hoisted my sword into the air, accepting my victory before wearily crashing against the oak tree and back into reality.

I sat and dissected what Ruben and Elsa said and wondered if the others agreed with him. I consistently lived by the rule I created and believed until an hour ago they did too. We frequently spoke about it and there were always nods of agreement. Perhaps they laughed about the way I continued by the code they dropped it into life’s rubbish bin when they got older. Had I known this, I would have been able to declare my undying love much earlier in life, maybe even on that sacred day at Badger's rest.

It was then that my phone pinged.

2:04 pm ‘Hey Tom I didn’t mean to speak to you like that mate, honestly, ignore me, I am stressed about work and this new promotion, anyway, we are still in the Kings, please come back, I am sorry, Ruben.’

The child in me wanted to text back and tell Ruben to choke on his beer and yet part of me knew that he was correct in what he said earlier. They had left childhood agreements in the past and I realised it was my time to do the same, to follow suit. I also recognised it was a chance to grow up. I had no right expecting Elsa to stay single and wait for me aka Mr. Bumbling awkward childish idiot; she deserved nothing but my respect and her freedom to make life choices.

2:22 pm ‘Hey Ruben, no problem, you are right though, I think what you said earlier has helped, it’s time to grow up a bit and started following you all into adulthood.'

I lifted my battle-worn body aloft, cast my sword into the darkness, and made headed slowly back to the bosom of my friends. I appreciated that the moment may be awkward between us, I also recognized that adults dealt with these situations in this way and I had to grow up and face my demons. I was nervous and a little sad as I entered the pub; the music was blasting, and I did not know what to expect. Elsa saw me first as she was by the jukebox perusing the tunes. Michael, Ruben, and Gabriel were sitting down talking to each other before they noticed my arrival. They stood up as I approached and wrapped their arms around me.

‘Hey mate, I am glad you came back,’ said Michael, handing me a glass of red wine.

‘Hey Tom, I am sorry about the things I said, I am such an idiot,’ said Ruben.

'It’s okay Rube, I am sorry too, and you were right, it is time I grew up and behaved like one of those adults I hear so much about,' I replied, exhaling an awkward giggle.

‘You have nothing to be sorry about Tom, I love you man, we all do, never change. Ignore me I am the arse, not you.’

The earlier occasion of foolishness made me realise just how important these people were to me. Life without them seemed pointless, and a moment of my madness nearly ended it all. I was back, and they forgave all. It felt fantastic.

I turned to see Dave the landlord nodding his head and smiling in acknowledgment. I felt whole again, and I knew that the rest of the day was going to be good. One of a celebration, no more silly outbursts, no more throwing the pact card around. Elsa walked back over to me and placed a gentle kiss on my cheek.

‘Where is Camilla mate?’

‘She has gone home Mike and I suspect she will not be coming back!’

‘You know where my heart lies, Mike,’ I whispered.

‘You must go with your heart, Tom mate before it’s too late!’ whispered Michael.

‘I am sorry Thomas for the way I behaved at the park. I should not have spoken to you as I did, and I should not judge Camilla either. I guess I was a little upset at the time as seeing her was a bit of a shock, I want to say right here and now that no matter the choices you make, how you act, I will always be here for you,’ said Elsa empathetically.

‘It’s okay Elsa, honestly, I am an idiot I need to grow up and I am glad you told me so,’ I replied with a giggle.

We cleared the air and to me, that was the best thing that could have happened. I said goodbye to Camilla for the last time and whatever was happening with Elsa and Ruben, a side of me accepted it, and another part of me felt better for it. The wine flowed as the chatter slowly changed from mature to boisterous. Michael removed his leg once again, busily taunting the passers-by with it. The twins were deep in conversation and my princess sat sipping her drink and listening to us all intently.

‘Just nipping to the loo’ I said, lugging my heavy and full bladder from the chair and walking through the door to the toilet, in preparation to trek the never-ending dark corridor. I glanced back to smile at my friends before turning around. The hallway had vanished, and I faced two doors a metre away from me bearing the signs Male and Female. The wood on them looked old and worn. This was not the place I encountered two days before. I could not work out how Dave had renovated the toilets in the space of 48 hours.

‘Hey Dave, when did you do them?’ I said walking back from the door for a moment.

‘I do not understand what you are talking about, Tom,’ he replied.

‘You know, the cobbled pathway to the Loo, the cold hallway, it’s gone,’ I giggled and swallowed hard.

‘You need to slow down on the Wine Tom, we renovated the toilets over a decade ago mate,’ he replied shaking his head.

'Yes, I know, I mean I just wondered, I mean, okay, no problem, cheers' I replied confused.

I headed into the gents, stopping at the mirror to compose myself. I recounted walking that frigid trail to relief only days before but convinced myself it was a dream-like moment that I experienced frequently. I couldn’t go back to the bar and talk to my friends about it, they already expressed their opinions about my odd behaviour. I realised I needed to get my mind together and stop all this nonsense. I always had a vivid imagination, but these moments were getting too real, too close, and personal. Staring at my reflection I pressed down on my cheek pulling at my skin to reveal a small white scar, a scar I had never noticed until now, I manipulated my face and squinted to inspect.

‘What the hell is that, why haven’t I ever noticed it?’

Finishing up my business I headed back to my team who were laughing and talking, unaware of my moment which gave me relief.

‘Hey Gabe, have you ever noticed this scar before,’ I said pulling at my skin.

‘Nope, never have!’ he replied, the rest of them agreeing with him, saying they had never noticed it either.

‘That’s odd, perhaps I had cut myself without knowing’ I thought, staring at my reflection through the crimson wine glass.

We spent the next few hours as they always were, five best friends enjoying each other’s company around a bottle of red wine.

‘Who’s for the infamous Pub crawl,’ said Michael.

We had always had a pub crawl of some sort, in our annual week of celebrations, so it made sense. This evening was going to get very messy.

‘Sounds like a plan, Mike,’ replied Ruben.

‘Count me in!’ retorted Gabriel.

‘Sounds perfect’ replied Elsa.

‘Definitely, and this time we have to get to the ultimate destination!’ I replied.

‘Let’s get a shift on then. Time is ticking!’ exclaimed Michael as we all swiftly finished the remnants of our glasses and headed for the exit.

‘Oh, and Dave, dust the moths from your wallet and buy some decent wine, I am sick of this vinegar you pass off as vino!’ laughed Michael pointing at the bottle on our table, much to Dave’s bemusement.

‘I save the good stuff for the decent folk, not for you reprobates,’ smirked Dave swiping at the glassware.

There were six pubs in the town and four on the outskirts and we only ever completed nine of them, they had, without question been our biggest stumbling block for years, the deal was to drink a shot and a pint of beer or large wine at each venue. Ruben nearly managed it the year before but fell at the last hurdle, a bar named Jacks.

‘The Big ten?’ Michael announced outside the doors of the Kings.

‘I am in’ said Elsa as we all nodded in unison.

‘Okay then, Lumberjacks it is!’ exclaimed Michael, tucking his shirt into his trousers before fiddling with his prosthetic leg.

We had always arranged the pubs in order of distance so we didn’t have too much of a trek to the next, and Lumberjacks was about two hundred yards away on the left, so it was the perfect choice as our second pub in the drinking marathon.

‘I am so elated you are with us, Thomas’ stated Elsa placing her arm on my shoulder. We headed down the street to pub number two with a freshly found sense of confidence. She was right, it felt good to be back. I left my moment of madness at the King’s Head and was ready, bracing for the momentous challenge that stood before all. My newly established matrimony with my buddies gave me fortitude, and I was positive that this would be our year. This would be the occasion we conquered, the big ten.

Chapter Nine.

Let the games begin.

Lumberjacks, to put it mildly, was a bit of a dump, and unless we found ourselves on a pub crawl, the place we avoided like the plague. The landlady Bertha or Big Bertha, known because of her more than plentiful cleavage that she would exhibit in low cut tops with pride was the once wife of Dave from the Kings. She was an immense character, both in sculpture and charisma, and possessed a stern manner toward the patrons if the need arose. I can even recall the time she put down her half-eaten pickled egg and hoisted a bunch of riotous bikers who had drunk too much and thrust them out onto the pavement single-handed. She was a woman not to trifle with, that’s for sure. We preferred it as pub number two because we all knew that the alcohol had not yet got hold, transforming us from rational responsible adults to wild animals.

My nose felt inflamed by the pungent stench of cigars and boy odour as we made our way into the bar. The place direly needed restoration, but the gossip was that Bertha had spent the refurbishment money on a newly enhanced cleavage, or at least that was the rumour about town, no doubt started by Dave at the King’s Head.

Bertha sat perched on her chair at the end of the bar with her customary scowling face as our entrance disturbed her consumption of a pork pie on a plate in front of her.

‘What can I get you?’ she asked, wiping away the pie crumbs from her face with a tea towel.

‘Five pints of your finest ale and five shots of your finest malt please Bertha,’ replied Michael smiling at her, fluttering his eyelids.

‘Five pints of lager and five whiskeys it is then!’ she grunted, sliding the mottled glasses in our direction.

‘Ah thank you Bertha for your warm and undying regards for the patrons that enter your wonderful establishment and may I say you are looking rather radiant this afternoon,’ said Michael sarcastically before pulling the glasses toward him.

Big Bertha raised her eyes, muttered a few choice words, and waddled back to the other end of the bar and the half-eaten pork pie. The unusual liquid she served up as beer tasted how I imagined dishwater would after the washing up of endless greasy crockery. The whisky was not any better, but we had a job to do, all of us, and the shorter the time spent in this hovel suited me and my teammates. I could still see her muttering to herself as the cavern that was her red lipstick plastered mouth made a simple task of the savoury offering. I once had a nightmare: she tied me naked to the pub wall and ate me alive. That image heightened this evening as I watched her devour an innocent sausage snack.

Elsa brushed by me as she headed toward the jukebox, offering me a seductive beam as she went. I watched as she wiggled her derriere excitedly with her finger hovering above the numbers. She was like a child in a sweetshop with that music player. I admired her form as she moved from side to side before dropping the coins in the slot. The melody started and the song I want to know what love is by the band Foreigner played as she tossed back her head, turning and staring directly at me with a mischievous smile. She swayed slowly, gyrating her denim-clad hips and biting her lip. I struggled to look away, my eyes transfixed by her shapely curves.

This woman unbeknown to the hold she had on me, had me under her spell and before I could admire her again, she took me by the hand and pulled me into her.

‘Dance with me, Thomas!’ she whispered, moving in closer.

I could feel her sweet-smelling body heat embrace me as she twisted and turned, rubbing her leg against mine and giggling like a naughty schoolgirl. I moved in closer to her, nervously placing my hand on the small of her back.

As we danced, the bar and all its surroundings melted away like the snow under the glare of the sun. All that prevailed were two souls, a duo of spirits interwoven at this moment, this scene of unadulterated exhilaration. Her eyes probed mine, searching for the one thing I had spent my life withholding from her, her pupils growing as she inspected the dark recesses of my mind. Her scent gripped me as we writhed together in our new bliss. I wanted to kiss her, to have her right there and again, and as swift as the encounter started, to my gloom it savagely disappeared.

‘Steady on chap, my turn’ declared a voice waking me from my whimsical state. To see Ruben behind me, I composed myself, cleared my throat, and stood aside to oblige him access to Elsa, I behaved like a grownup and it felt marvellous. I left them dancing and quickly returned to the reprobate table that was becoming louder and rowdier under the vigilant eye of Bertha.

‘Here you go Tom, let’s finish these and get out of here!!’ suggested Gabriel, handing over the remains of the dishwater I had been ingesting earlier. The discussion was flowing at the table, but I was someplace else, I lingered in Elsa’s embrace, her essence still captivated me and I was trying without success not to glance at her and Ruben as they danced. Eventually, and not soon enough, the melody stopped and the two of them came back into the fold.

‘This beer is disgusting!’ said Gabriel a little too loudly and I could feel Bertha’s eyes all over us. Knowing that this would end in disaster, I saved us all from her snarling grip.

‘Come on slowpokes, time to drink up, there are another eight places to visit!’ I exclaimed, knocking back the rest of my so-called beer and slamming the glass on the table to claim victory over pub number two.

‘Pub Number three, here we come, thank you for the warm welcome Bertha. You are beguiling both in manner and beauty,’ said Michael, as Bertha raised her eyebrows to him with a grimace.

Den of inebriation number three was The Harlequins wine bar in the middle of town, a local haunt for the twenty-something set. A cavalcade of chrome and glass to allow the self-absorbed patrons the option of looking at their pristine reflections while chatting nonsense to each other. Or at least that’s how I saw the place.

We disappeared from the watchful eye of Big Bertha and took the short walk to Harleys as we called it. As soon as we entered, you could feel the eyes on you from the suit-wearing regulars who swiftly moved their sports car keys that they had been exhibiting as a trap to capture their prey of the opposite sex.

‘I Hate this place’ said Michael under his breath, before removing his prosthetic leg and plonking it next to two women who were looking at my princess up and down in disgust. His act of limb removal proved to work quickly as they picked up their spritzers and Chanel handbags and scurried over to the other end of the bar.

Elsa had noticed their glares of dissatisfaction and started to remove the bobbles from her perfectly crumpled little purple jumper to make herself fit in. I placed my hand on her arm and eased to stop her.

‘Don’t let them intimidate you, Elsa, I love your bobbles and you are worth a million of them,’ I whispered.

‘Thank you, Thomas’ she replied quietly, offering me a warm smile.

‘My round I think and your chair me lady!’ I said, lowering Elsa to her seat as Gabriel and Ruben dragged three more to our table across the white-tiled floor, knocking into the odd stuffed shirt as they went.

The barmaid who immediately spotted my attire transformed from a smiling and subservient little madam to someone who looked like they just stepped in dog muck. The look of horror on her face was enough to put many in their place. She could turn people to stone with her steely-eyed grimace, but not me. It would take a character much scarier than her to send me into retreat. I was a brave Knight, having returned victorious from the Forest of fiendish monsters that I lay slain by my sword.

'Five Vodka shots and Five beers please, I said, offering a counterfeit smile in her direction.

‘We have over thirty different Vodkas!’ she said, sliding a drinks menu toward me. Irritated by my lack of Vodka knowledge, or maybe it was just my appearance that had offended her so much, either way, I picked it up and buried my head deep into it as if to show I knew what I was doing. I glanced up now and again to see her, still staring at me with a face like thunder.

‘I think we will take five Roberto Cavalli shots and five Peroni’s please’ I said, struggling to offer her a smile.

She huffed and puffed, arriving back and slamming the shot glasses onto the bar, followed by the beer.

‘That’s fifty-five pounds please’ she announced pompously, smirking at me and rubbing her hands. My heartbeat increased as I rustled through my wallet, marvelling at what possessed me to assume ownership of the round buying in here. The moths had a field day.

‘Do we get a free packet of nuts with these?’ I asked sarcastically, handing over a crumpled ball of worn notes before taking hold of the tray of ridiculously expensive ware.

‘We do not sell peanuts here, maybe one of the less exclusive venues in the town would suit you and your friends a little better!’

I brushed past Gabriel, who was busily attempting to chat to two posh types at the bar. Their faces were a picture to behold. They sat, flashing their expressions of disgust, almost as if a witness to a dirty old man baring all in the park.

Elsa offered a beaming smile while she chatted with Ruben and Michael. Who was still proudly waving his prosthetic leg while gesturing it at passers-by as I placed the bank-breaking alcohol on the table in front of them? I sat and studied the youthful and plastic people that frequented the wine bar. They were a generation that probably never climbed a tree, mounted a rope swing, jumped nude into a muddy river, or danced around in the rain, a band of know it all's who did not have a clue about the school of hard knocks and missed out on the essence of life, the very things that made living great and exciting. All those experiences the five of us enjoyed full tilt.

Sipping on the alcoholic beverages before me slowly, I took in every drop of the liquid gold that had just depleted my bank balance.

Elsa placed her legs across mine as we all sat and watched Gabriel’s vain attempts at snaring his regal prey. It was cringeworthy to put it modestly. Do not get me wrong, he was tall, dark, and handsome could hold his own in the looks department, like his twin brother Ruben, and on any other day in any other pub he may have taken first place in the sprint for a number from these Chanel laden women but this evening would not be his time. They were only interested in one thing as they eyed the rather portly man sitting behind Gabriel brandishing his Ferrari key fob to them.

Thirty arduous minutes later we had emptied every drop of the overpriced booze into our gullets and made haste to the next venue, rescuing Gabriel as we passed him. Our interruption annoyed him a little, but the women seemed relieved. We rescued him and his wallet. He just didn’t see that at that moment in time.

The five of us congregated in the cooling air outside to take stock.

‘Pub number four it is folks!’ said Gabriel, blowing kisses through the window to the two gold diggers he had been speaking to. The same pair of brassy tarts who were now making a beeline to the portly gent.

‘Yay, the Railway!’ cheered Elsa who was now skipping around in front of the pub window like an excited child on Christmas eve hoping to get a glimpse of Mr. Claus and his reindeer.

‘Come on, guys!’ she shouted as she trotted over the stone bridge that paved our way toward the railway station and the pub.

We followed behind her; my eyes fixated on her pert derriere as it swayed from side to side aloft her shapely legs. I watched my friends laughing and chatting and I felt proud of them all, appreciative of all we had achieved together, honoured to call them companions.

‘Hey Tom, do you remember when we used to come here and write the numbers from the engines like a pair of amateur train spotters?’ giggled Ruben pointing at the tracks.

‘Ha, I do, you used to have a red book from what I can remember, very professional Rube,’ I replied.

‘Oh, my word, that red book!’

‘I wanted to be a train driver for a time!’ he announced.

I paused for a moment staring at the tracks fondly remembering the times Ruben and I had there. The trains looked so big back then, massive mechanical beasts of all shapes and colours.

‘Come on, Tom, the alcohol is waiting for us!’ hailed Gabriel.

‘I will be there in a minute guys you carry on!’ I replied.

I stood recalling how often Ruben and I used to be together, the games we played, the days out we had, such glorious moments, however, my affectionate gaze of reflection became sharply disturbed by a pungent odour that was dominating the surrounding air, I was raw, uneasy and found myself frozen like a statue. The all too recognizable atmosphere of horror sneaked inside me, and the entity standing behind me shrouded my body with ugly darkness and rancid smell. I could feel an acute pain stabbing into the back of my head and sense its breathing burning away at the flesh on my neck. The agony was extreme; I craved to scream, but it paralysed me.

I closed my eyes and grasped the stone barrier of the bridge for dear life as I awaited my destiny. Whatever made its deathly presence known once again was closer to me than before.

‘Thomas, look at me!’ it whispered, pressing itself into my back.

‘Thomas look at me!’ it screamed, tearing at the tissue on my spine. I could feel the blood in my body pour out like wine from a bottle. The sheer pain was unbearable, I felt sick and the agony of the talons ripping at my flesh left me broken. The light faded from my eyes and the darkness once again infiltrated the surroundings and then nothing, not a sound.

I found myself hunched embryonically on the wet asphalt with Elsa kneeling before me, mopping my brow.

‘Thomas, it’s okay, you are safe.’

I felt sick and pained, but the sight of Elsa, the woman that came back to rescue me was a welcomed relief. Whatever entered my air space only moments before had vanished. I lifted myself to my feet with the help of the girl I loved dearly.

‘Could we keep this between me and you, Elsa?’ I asked. I knew the others hadn’t witnessed the commotion, and I didn’t want to ruin any more days for them.

‘Thomas, it’s our secret’ Elsa replied as she put her arms around my waist and helped me across the bridge toward the rest of them. I reached behind me checking my back but there was nothing, not a scratch on me. This reassured me that whatever had just happened was merely a figment of my imagination.

The Railway pub staged a myriad of memorabilia from old signals to vintage totem station signs. It stood as an amazing homage to everything locamotive. From the age of the steam engine through to the modern era. Ruben and I loved this place, having spent many years when we were young jotting and recording the trains. Excited visitors flocked from across the land to get their hands on the treasure trove in the bar. It had remained venue number four in the yearly drinking marathon and I liked the fact that I would be reasonably sober when here, as it was a superb sight to behold. Terry, the Landlord, always donned a locomotive driver cap which he tipped to the tourists in tweed and corduroys while spinning yarns about yesteryear. The beer here tasted fab, a glorious mix of local and imported ales, so it guaranteed you a decent tipple.

My nasal passages we met with vague odours of leather and diesel as me, and Elsa entered. The rest of them had found a table and were chatting and drinking. I felt relieved they were none the wiser about what happened moments earlier. We sat under the window next to a large group of avid trainspotters. The cameras clicked as they busily photographed the locomotive regalia that adorned the ceiling and walls. I could see Terry the Landlord at the bar giving a speech to some American tourists, they hung off his every word.

‘Memories of old Tom!’ hailed Ruben, acknowledging our activities as children.

‘Absolutely Rube, the best times!’

We sat amongst the succinct memorabilia; the conversation turning a little more raucous as the alcohol took hold. I peered at Elsa; she looked flawless. The only difference between yesterday and this evening was a single silver hair trailing the contour of her face. I must admit I never noticed it before. Maybe a sign of too many years of being with us all. The stress getting the better of her and with me along for the ride; it did not seem unimaginable.

I would not point out the white strand resting against her beautiful skin because no matter her appearance, to me she was perfect, she always had been.

I studied her for a time. How she smiled, the position she gripped her beer bottle pressed against her elegant cheek as she chatted away. She possessed an aura that seized everybody’s attention and yet she was oblivious of it, even back at the wine bar when she appeared conscious about her attire and attempted to preen herself, feeling inferior when she did not need to. I sensed an electronic pulse erupt inside of me as I witnessed her soft plump lips blow gently against the narrow neck of the glass. I craved to be in her grip, to touch her, to devour her, to have my wicked way right at that moment. I was relatively confident Terry would not notice as we both lay nude to a tavern full of onlookers lusting at each other, gnawing and licking each inch of each other’s flesh, thrusting and quivering as we ground into the wooden floor.

‘Ground control to Tom!’ said a voice dragging me out of my lustful dream.

‘Sorry Gabe, err I was just, well you know!’ I replied, clearing my throat.

The attempt at the big ten went pretty much as expected that day, with Gabriel falling first by the wayside at pub seven. Michael was next. The alcohol consumption saw him sleeping on his prosthetic limb at the eighth venue.

Now there were three. A trio of powerful warriors in this most epic of battles. I felt determined that this year we would claim our victory.

Hostelry number nine was the black bear, a spit and sawdust kind of haunt. We three entered, ordered, consumed, and left. There was no hanging around anymore.

We had completed the penultimate task and only one place remained the last frontier. The pub was named Jack Rabbit's or Jack's to us.

Ruben struggled to walk in a straight line and stood swaying from side to side as we made our way down Ely street toward the Jack. I roared with laughter as he collapsed into the bins next to the butcher’s shop, before relieving himself of the entire contents of his stomach. Elsa began playing nursemaid, holding his hair from his face as he spasmed to remove the poison from his innards. Ruben's night had ended, it was game over for him. Just me and the girl of my dreams remained.

‘I better take him home, he needs to get to bed,’ explained a disappointed looking Elsa.

‘Let me help you Elsa’ I said, offering my hand.

‘No, you get to the Jacks and you complete it, for us all, you are the final warrior Thomas don’t let me down, we love you, hic,’ she slurred, patting at my arm. We both lifted Ruben to his feet. He was hanging onto Elsa for dear life.

‘Are you sure you will be okay?’ I asked.

‘We will be fine, now go, do it for all of us!’ Said Elsa.

‘Gerrer the beer for us mate!’ slurred a rather inebriated Ruben.

They were right, and though I did not understand the words Ruben had just puked I knew this ultimate battle was mine and mine only. I faced one last task to complete before receiving my trophy, and I fancied my chances at winning. For all the years and all the tears that witnessed our failure, nothing could hinder me. A thousand Lions would not defeat me, I walked away fully armed and ready for the fight that until this evening had eluded me.

I stumbled through the cold of night, my mind focused and my vision distorted by my consumption. I revisited the moments of this evening as I headed closer and closer to my goal. I gave a drunken salute to my fallen comrades as I staggered through empty market stalls. Visions of how Gabriel had perished, the vodka slipping from his alcohol wounded mouth. Michael, the one-legged warrior who crashed into the velour of the pub sofa before being put into a cab for the short drive home. Then there was Ruben, who was so close to Victory but eventually met his fate face down in the bins. I saluted Elsa who looked like she would have made it with me but alas, her job was now to help the injured comrade back to base. I had to fight on, to finish the battle, or their loss would have been in vain.

I was here; I brushed against the cold white pub wall and crashed through the doors of my decisive challenge, the ultimate chapter in my battle to become the winner of the big ten, and heroically hold aloft the beer glass trophy which would hail my victory. I knew that everything that had gone before was worth it. My comrades did not fall in vain and townsfolk would remember us, they would commemorate our struggle. They would erect a statue in our honour to mark the occasion.

‘Rum shot, beer’ I mumbled to the barman as I clung onto the dusty railing which ran the length of the bar, ensuring the inebriated patrons could remain upright. I stood there staring at my mottled reflection in the cloudy glass in front of me and offered myself a proud smile. My eyes were sleepy and struggled to focus on the surroundings, but it did not matter anymore. I sat on the precipice of victory, I was the man, the hero, and even though my unit had fallen short of victory, I stood for us all.

As my drinks hit the bar, my nose met a familiar scent, a scent that had sent me into raptures on many an occasion. I looked at my reflection again, and there she was, the mocha angel, my Elsa.

‘Well, I couldn’t let you take all the glory!’ she exclaimed as she rested next to me at the bar.

No matter how many times I looked at this goddess, from when she was a little girl with muddy knees to our teenage years and right here at this bar on this cold evening, she always sent my stomach into twists and flips, my heart rate through the ceiling and electrified every single nerve ending.

‘Elsa, you came back, Is Ruben okay?’ I asked.

‘He is fine, all tucked up in bed with a bucket next to him,’ she said, cuddling up close to me to warm herself.

The drinks I ordered for my fellow competitor appeared, as we simultaneously lifted our glasses and downed the contents. We finished every drop and with that, we beat the big ten. I swallowed all the years of failure and belched loudly. We sat there, both proud heroes. We had exorcised the ghost which haunted us all for so long.

‘Yes, we did it!’ I shouted, hugging her tight and acknowledging her victory. She embraced me and cheered, her jumper clad arms holding me securely, her soft magnificent locks of hair teased the skin on my neck as her face pushed itself into my chest. We were heroes, and I didn’t want to let her go, I wished this moment to last for all eternity. I wanted us to become statuesque and to remain here locked together in each other cast in stone.

‘Well done to us!’ I exclaimed.

I pondered whether now was the right time to display my love placard to her. I had the Dutch courage floating around inside me, but I knew that neither of us would remember tonight when we woke up tomorrow.

‘Come on Elsa, let’s get out of this place,’ I said, taking her by the hand. We were victorious and tomorrow the world would know it.