him in the Old Ship, the sort of pub where you went once, but never twice. A blend of damp and piss reeked from its walls and although dry roasted peanuts were sold behind the bar, nobody dared to eat them.
‘What the fuck are we doing here?’ I whispered, although we were the only customers present. ‘And why are you dressed like a mef?’
Bulked out in a multitude of layers, Snowy was sporting jumper upon jumper and three beanie hats. His short arms stuck out by his side and as he sat at one of the many empty tables in the pub, he gave a little knock on his shin to reveal a shin pad. He looked ridiculous.
‘In answer to your questions,’ Snowy began, a wobble in his voice. ‘We’re here so you don’t get barred from the Pacific Arms, ’cause it’s our local, and I’m dressed like this ’cause you’re gonna beat me up. And I’m a wuss.’
I rolled my eyes and bought us both a pint. I’d had a long day in the mailroom followed by another rejection from the editor after asking if I could write a feature – just a short one and not on company time – to go in next month’s issue. Snowy’s cryptic behaviour was amusing, if anything, but not what I fancied putting up with this evening. I sipped my pint and, with respect, tried not to wince at its bitterness. Snowy necked half in one swift go, then cleared his throat.
‘Jesus, I’m sweating me tits off.’
‘You reckon?’
‘I need to ask you some questions, Jimbo. You ready?’
I let out a big sigh.
‘Good. When did you last have sex with Helen?’
‘Y’what?’
‘You heard.’
I scratched my head, lowered my voice. ‘Dunno. Ages ago. Why?’
‘Ages ago? As in years? Months? Weeks?’
If only the ale tasted a fraction better.
‘Jimbo, please.’
‘About two years ago,’ I lied. It was more like two months ago.
‘But you split up three years ago?’
‘Four.’
‘Okay. Who broke up with who?’
‘You know that.’
‘Well, we all know it fizzled out, but someone must’ve pulled the plug.’
In all honesty, I don’t know the answer, it’s foggy. There were endless moments you could say me and Helen became no longer me and Helen. Like how she didn’t let me inside her house for months after the abortion. Or when she decided it’d be best if I wasn’t invited to her sister’s wedding. And there was that fella with the Honda Civic who drove her to work. And picked her up. Steve.
‘Hold on,’ I said. ‘When have I ever beaten anyone up? Why am I gonna—’
‘Next question.’ Snowy started to rip up his soggy beermat. ‘Do you wanna get back with her?’
The doors into the Old Ship swung open and an old fella shuffled in, paper beneath his arm, a nasty cough rattling around his chest. A silent nod to the barmaid indicated his usual and he continued to shuffle, heading straight for me and Snowy. We edged our low stools out of the way as the old fella squeezed between us and plonked himself down on the sofa against the wall. Evidently ‘his spot’; no compromise was going to be made just because we were in its vicinity.
‘Well?’ Snowy asked. ‘Do you?’
Braving my pint, I took a huge gulp. It was kind of Snowy to show his concern for me and my wishy-washy love life, but that’s all it was. Kind. No offence to Snowy, but I didn’t need kind right now, I needed a lucky break. Maybe I would write the feature anyway, print it in bold (and a huge fucking font) and staple it to the editor’s desk.
‘Do you wanna get back with Helen?’
‘No,’ I said. Surprisingly.
‘Why?’ Snowy asked, concern draining his usual cheery face.
‘Snowy lad, you know why. We don’t work. We’re not right for each other. She’s here,’ I unfolded one hand, and then the other, ‘and I’m there. And we just can’t seem to …’ and I tried bringing my hands together, but couldn’t, as if a magnet was keeping them apart. ‘I mean, I love the bones of Helen, I do, and I care for her. We all do, don’t we? But, Christ. Can’t believe you’re making me say this out loud, lad, but she’s not … she’s not me girl.’
Snowy removed one beanie hat and mopped between his thick black eyebrows. I snatched it and, scrunching it into a little ball, threw it into Snowy’s face, a subconscious attempt to lift the atmosphere. I didn’t enjoy how the words I’d just