It was two weeks later. John and Simon had been out on a 'shout', this one involving a car that had run off the road and into a tree.
The tree won.
There had been little danger of fire, but the crew had been called out to try and free the trapped driver. He'd died before they could free him.
"Clunk-Click, every trip," observed John.
"You think if he'd been wearing his seatbelt...?" Simon asked. Both firemen felt a little depressed; they always did when fatalities were involved.
"Probably. Too late now."
They logged off their shift and left the station. John quietly asked, "Pub?" and Simon simply nodded.
"You get used to it, you know," John told him as they walked the hundred yards down the road to the
Cross Keys
, the local pub where most of the fire crews went after their shifts.
"Hmm?"
"The deaths. It happens, and you get to see more of it than just about anyone except the ambulance guys. You get used to it. You can't help it."
They walked on a little further.
"All except the kiddies. I've never got used to those. I doubt I ever will," John concluded.
"What you need," Simon told his older friend as they shouldered their way through the pub door, "is a pint!"
They made their way into the dimly lit interior and approached the bar. "Hi, Betty! Couple of pints please!" Simon called out to the barmaid, an older lady who'd seen and done all, at least according to her. She nodded and returned to her conversation with the old regular sitting in his usual seat at the bar.
Once they'd got their drinks, John and Simon made their way to one of the wooden tables near the fireplace. Despite the fact that it was mid-September, it was warm and the fire remained unlit.
"Are you seeing Patty again tonight?" Simon asked John.
"I most certainly am!" quipped John. "She should be here in about twenty minutes."
"You seem to know how to keep them, John. None of the girls
I
meet seem to last beyond a couple of dates," Simon said, taking a long pull on his pint.
"You've got to
want
them to last, young'un," replied John. "A girl can sense when you're not planning on keeping her – I mean, even
I
can see it when we go out. Half the time it seems you can barely be bothered to learn their names!"
"Hey, I'm not
that
bad!"
"You most certainly are! Don't you realise that a girl can tell? The only girl you've shown any sign of wanting to really get to know was the girl in that band, what was her name?"
"Alison," Simon supplied automatically.
"See? Proves my point. Who was it you were going out with after her?"
"Melanie. No, wait, it was Meredith. I think...?"
John laughed at him, and Simon turned crimson. John changed the subject soon afterwards as they played a game of darts, and Simon put it out of his mind for the rest of the evening.
- - - - - - - - - -
Later that night, as he lay in his bed at his parent's home, Simon found John's accusation going through his mind again. Surely it was all right? He wasn't
cheating
on anyone; he simply wanted to play the field, not get involved.
His parents were
involved
. They fought, sometimes bitterly, with raised voices that Simon had heard, but they always stayed together. Sometimes, though, it seemed that they were only together out of habit.
But he remembered his grandparents, his father's mother and father. They'd been
devoted
to one another, over all the time that Simon had known them. They still were, well into their nineties. Simon wasn't sure he was ready for that kind of relationship, but when he was, he wanted one like that – not that of his parents.
But was he really as bad, as
obvious
, as John had said?
He lay on his back in his bed, staring unseeingly at the ceiling while he tried to consider the question.
It was possible, he decided. He didn't really see it, but now, lying alone in his bed with no other distraction to his thinking, he was honest enough with himself to say that. 'It's nothing I consciously decided,' he told himself – only to pause, and think some more. 'Of course it is, dummy. You're already looking for the next one while going out with the current one...'
Something else John had said. Alison. Perhaps he should try to get in touch with her, she really had been something!
The following evening he sat down and wrote Alison a short letter. It didn't say much; just that he'd thought of her and would like to see her again. He posted it that night.
- - - - - - - - - -
On the Friday night after that, the phone rang at Simon's parents house. "Its John!" his mother told Simon.
"Hi John, what can I do you for?" Simon said in jest once he'd taken the phone from his mother.
"Coming down the pub tonight?"
"Yeah, if you like. Meeting Patty there?
"I most certainly am! The delectable one will be arriving about nine o'clock, which gives us time to get a couple of pints in first. I'll meet you there?"
"Seems reasonable. I'll be about twenty minutes."
Soon after nine that night, John's girlfriend Patty arrived and quickly came to John and gave him a fierce hug and a big kiss.
Patty was a short, sweet bundle of joy, with a fabulous figure and a short, permed head of brunette hair. Simon liked her a lot, they got on well together, and it was obvious that she and John were smitten with each other. Somewhere in Patty's ancestry there were some genes from the Indian sub-continent, which tended to give her a slightly exotic look and a beautiful pale-coffee colour. Simon thought that she should be on the stage, she looked that wonderful.
There was another girl with her. Simon made eye contact and felt...
interested
. Whoever the newcomer was, she was as sexy as all hell!
Patty pulled away from John and looked back at the girl.
"Oh, sorry. John, Simon, I'd like you to meet my friend Marianne. Marianne, this is my boyfriend John, and this is his friend, Simon."
"Pleased to meet you both!" Marianne answered. Her voice was a dark, sultry contralto. Just hearing her saying that conjured up a number of hot, humid feelings in Simon. In fact, he felt a stirring in his groin, just from hearing her voice. Marianne had briefly glanced at John during the introductions, but then returned her eyes to Simon.
