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the eye for me, or Carl as he claims. We called
in for a drink but I was getting concerned as I was due to meet
my girlfriend Helen in 15 minutes in the Board, light weighter
and under the thumb were comments from my comrades as I contemplated
the situation, and Racheal won.
We left late that night as lock-ins were common
in these parts but not as funny as the sight we saw in Little
Halton as we passed through, or rather past through and then
reversed and stopped. The sight to the left of us was amazing,
amazing in the fact we had never noticed it before, then again
you don’t tend to notice anything in Halton. Little Halton is
a tiny village a couple of miles from Morton and we only ever
pass through going to and from the Gold, during daytime we never
noticed anyone walking through there and it was always late
at night when we returned so you never noticed any lights on
in the houses. Tonight we did. It was one am and the lighted
pub was something we never knew ever existed. Set in a row of
terraced cottages the tiny house boasted one bay window and
the door which was headed by a sign reading ‘The Red Lion’.
We were all in high spirits, especially me after cavorting with
Rachael and Carl with his drink intake of the day so we decided
to see if the door was still open for orders. ‘Still serving?’
I asked the large elderly barman as we entered, he nodded his
reply, God knows why he was as the clientele consisted of three
coffin dodgers, one sat on a wooden bench near the window and
two on a bench to the right and believe me they certainly were
not the liveliest bunch I have ever encountered. I have to admit
this was a strange type of pub the same size of the ground floor
of any average cottage, the bar to the left in front of us and
to the right it curved around in an L-shape behind and hidden
from the bar where two round wooden tables with stools stood.
It was the bar that most astonished me as unless you drank lager,
bitter or Coke you were buggered, oh there was a bottle of malt
whisky behind on the shelf though I suspect this was for the
landlord’s use as he would need it running a place like this.
Not much choice either, one unnamed pump of each and Coke in
bottles, but where else could you get a drink at this time of
the night and the prices were cheap too, so we placed our usual
orders, sat at one of the tables and drank into the night.
V
JULY 26TH 1997 43 MANOR GARDENS, 10am
Mark had stopped in the spare room at mine last
night and the three of us were now sat in the living room, Mark
drinking coffee, Carl and me waiting for the off license round
the corner to open due to the fact we had failed to stock up
on our ‘breakfast’ the day previous. ‘Should be open by now,’
I said as I got up to get our shopping list of wine and a four
pack of Tetley’ s. ‘That should do us until opening time,’ Carl
stated on my return engrossed in his first can of the day, Mark
just shook his head as I opened my wine, he never could understand
our drinking habits. 11.4Oam and we were in The Board and obviously
slipping on our time keeping. The gossip in the fuller than
normal pub at this was that the bloke arrested here yesterday
was up for rape and murder, I was more concerned by the fact
that Helen had just walked., in and I don’t think it was for
a drink. I was wrong it was a drink she wanted, my drink and
over me which she promptly did adding the words; ‘YOU BASTARD!’
I was
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