This is loosely based on real events, but with several things compressed, a few things changed to protect the guilty, and a little bit of fantasy added in places to improve the narrative.
Jane in this story is the same Jane from "In the Kitchen With Jane".
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I'd not long moved to the town before I found my preferred drinking establishment, a rather nice Real Ale pub, with a good sized beer garden, a pool table, and welcoming clientele. After a few weeks of living in the town I had developed a routine of going to the pub on a Saturday afternoon for a session. This would often include playing pool with other regulars, or just sitting talking and socialising.
As the weeks and months passed, I found that I was spending a lot of time playing pool with one particular chap, name of Richard. We had common interests in films and reading, and when not playing pool, we would have those rambling conversations where suddenly you realise that a couple of hours have passed, and no one can remember who's round it is.
On this particular Saturday, I arrived at the pub a little later than usual, but there was no sign of Richard. I ordered my usual and got the landlord to take for a pint for Richard for when he arrived. I'd just settled down to have a natter with Peter, one of the other regulars, when I saw Richard come rushing in.
"Richard! You've got one in," I called out to him. He waved acknowledgement and spoke to the landlord to claim his pint.
"Hi Colin, hi Peter," he said, wandering over, "sorry I'm late, Nancy and Amy were fighting, and Jane wanted me to be Big Bad Daddy."
(Nancy and Amy were his kids, 10 and 8 if I recall correctly, and Jane was his wife).
"No worries, we were just about to start putting the world to rights," I replied.
The three of us chatted for a bit, and then Peter had to head off to meet his wife.
"Pool?" Richard asked me.
"Sure, what's the score at the moment?" I responded.
"I think you're ahead 19 games to 16 at the moment."
I had no idea, I'd lost track ages ago, and it was quite possible he was making it up, but it didn't matter. We played for fun, and when we were done for the day, the loser (based on that day's score) had to get an extra round in.
This Saturday I found I was wining game after game, as Richard made some really silly mistakes, missing shots that he'd have got with no problem normally. At first I put it down to the stress of having had to deal with the kids, but after a couple of pints failed to steady him down, I had to ask.
"Is everything alright mate, your game's a little off today?"
"A little?" he joked, "nah, yeah, umm... shall we finish this game and then go sit in the garden - I wanna have a chat with you."
I came over all curious at this and did my best to finish the game as quickly as possible, which, to be honest, wasn't difficult with Richard playing the way he was.
We finished the game, and he'd lost the day, so it was his round. We got fresh beers and went out to the beer garden. He led me up to the very back, into a corner that was a bit shielded by some bushes.
"What's up dude?" I asked, as we settled down onto the benches.
"Well, you know me and Jane are members of the Working Mens right?" he asked. (For those that don't know, the Working Mens Club is a social club found in many towns in the UK.)
"Yeah, you've mentioned it," I replied, wondering where this was going.
"Well, we were wondering if you'd be up for babysitting for us next week, there's a big event on and we'd like to go, but we haven't been able to find a babysitter."
"Is that all? Sure, no problem!" I replied. And it wasn't, although I hadn't met his wife or kids, I had spent enough time with friends' kids, and my own family, to know I got on OK with kids. To be honest I felt I knew Jane quite well, as on a couple of occasions we'd had those end-of-the-session drunken chats that had perhaps gone a little further than might be considered appropriate in terms of information sharing. (For example, I knew that she had a tattoo of a stick figure pushing a lawn mower just along the top of her pubic bush.) We'd talked about sexuality, and gender expression, and what we liked, so I knew he had a thing for slim blonde women (like Jane), and he knew I liked redheads.
At the time I couldn't understand why that simple request had made him nervous or put him off his game.
"Tell you what, do you wanna come round for dinner tonight? Meet the kids and Jane, and get to know them a little?"
"Well my current evening plans involve the Oriental Inn and a movie, so I'm down with that!"
"Let me give her a call, and we'll see if she's up for it."
"OK, I need to use the loo, I'll be back in a mo." I thought I'd give him some privacy to talk to her, just in case there were any issues. I went to the loo, taking my time washing and drying my hands. While I was stood by the sink I made an unexpected discovery. When the wind was blowing the right way, and the window above the sink was open, I could hear some of what was being said in that corner of the beer garden.
I heard him say "OK... No, I've not mentioned that let's give you the chance to meet him. I'll let him know what's for dinner. and we'll... " The rest of what we said was drowned out by the sound of the bar staff dragging out a tub of empty bottles.
Heading back out to the garden, I made sure he saw me coming, and I heard him say "yeah, OK, see you then."
"That's better, room for the next one," I joked as I sat down.