I added the three kisses.
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: Re: Hello
Hi Doreen, glad it’s going well.
I’m actually back in London and playing for Bentham United in the Southern Conference. It didn’t work out with Man United, but no worries.
I’d like to catch up, when you’re free.
Eric xxx
I pressed Send before Bernice could suggest any further complications.
“It’s all a bit weird, Bernice. She’s not my girlfriend. Shona’s my girlfriend, back in Australia.”
“So why aren’t you writin’ to her then?”
“I would, but she doesn’t have a computer.”
Bernice offered me a chocolate from the bottomless box that seemed always to be by her side.
“So, which one do you like best?” she enquired, as I perused the little menu and selected a strawberry whorl.
“I … well, I don’t know. I’ve been with Shona six and a half years but I don’t think we make each other terribly happy. An’ I’ve known Doreen for a day … on an aeroplane.”
All of a sudden a loud ping rang out from the computer.
“Yer must’ve made an impression in 24 hours,” said Bernice. “She’s replied already.”
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: Re: Hello
Hi Eric,
That’s brilliant you’re in London. What are you doing tomorrow? I’ve got nothing on.
Love, Doreen xxx
I could hear Bernice chuckling as she read over my shoulder.
“It’s your lucky day, Eric. She loves you an’ she’s got nothin’ on.”
VICISSITUDES O' LIFE
The Beast was not best pleased.
The top boys were assembled within the inner sanctum of the Blue Fury chapter house in Hammersmith. Outside, in the lounge, the noise from the young lads was deafening. But within the inner sanctum there was silence (except for the occasional snigger).
The Beast could hardly breathe with his two broken ribs, but the other blokes kept trying to make him laugh, the cunts. Fortunately, the Beast had no sense of fahkin’ humour.
They were waiting for Vinnie, who was just back from Australia, of all fahkin’ places! Why’d anyone wanna go to fahkin’ Australia, wondered the Beast, irritable with pain and waiting.
An’ what made it worse, seemed like he was the only one among the top boys who hadn’t known about Vin’s trip Down Under. Seemed like even some of the young lads knew before him! Fahkin’ Finnsy was in the know - young twat ‘d only been in the Fury six months an’ already top boy. Didn’t fahkin’ add up.
The Beast gritted his teeth as another flash of pain shot through his right side when he tried to take more than just a shallow breath and pump some oxygenated fahkin’ blood around his large body.
Somethin’ was up. And some cunt was gunna fahkin’ pay.
* * *
Vinnie the Shiv strode along the beer-sodden corridor, wishing that someone would play the Darth Vader theme to announce his presence. Just behind him, Barry heard Vin start breathing heavily… horrrrr… horrrrr… and wondered whether he was coming down with something. Bones was fingering his broken nose and wondering whether to get it straightened. There’s good broken nose and bad broken nose - need to get it right, mate.
This was the first time since they got back to London that Vinnie had fronted all the boys, but now the worst of the bruising had faded, it was time to resume the whip hand. He swept into the main lounge, already thick with the BF youngsters, saw the looks on their faces and knew the swelling hadn’t quite gone down enough.
Still, there was lots of noise to greet him, and he started to relax and enjoy himself. And there was news - Chelsea were doing well and the boys had caused plenty of mayhem away to Portsmouth, which they filled him in on, pissing him off that ‘e’d missed it, coz he loved beating fuck out of some cunt at the seaside.
“‘Ow’d yer go in Oz, Vin?” called out Westie, a tall, vicious fucker from Fulham who worshipped the ground Vinnie walked on.
“All in good time, lads,” grinned Vinnie, as he opened the door to the inner sanctum.
* * *
The top boys looked up as Vinnie, Barry and Bones entered the room.
Besides the Beast, there was Georgie Boy (fat cunt), Finnsy (hard, young up-and-comer) and Maxwell (sick bastard).
The Beast was shocked to see that Vinnie and his co-travellers were clearly bearing the marks of a thorough slapping, but the others seemed to be au fait already.
“‘Ow’s the invalids?” asked Georgie Boy, getting a weak grin from Vin.
What the fahk’s this? wondered the Beast. There’s been some fahkin’ talk behind my back an’ no mistake.
“What was that?” asked Vinnie sharply, and the Beast realised, to his embarrassment, that he’d spoken his thoughts out loud.
“Erm … nuffin’ Vin. I was just, like, wonderin’ ‘ow yer got the love bites.”
Vinnie didn’t like the Beast - a fat cunt just like him, but detestable in the same way that Georgie Boy was a top fella. Useful cunt in a fight ‘owever, and looking closer, Vin could see that the Beast was also tryin’ to hide some recent damage.
Immediately, he snapped into mad-eyed combat mode - always his forte. He pointed to his bruised face and said, “‘Ow’d I get this? ‘Ow’d you get yours ya fahkin’ nob end?”
Despite the sudden chill in the room, one of the top boys laughed at the Beast’s discomfit. Fahkin’ Finnsy. Yeah, laugh cunt, thought the Beast. You’ll get fahkin’ yours.
Rather unwisely perhaps, the Beast was not scared of Vinnie the Shiv, but he decided to back down for the moment. He had no desire to describe the incident at The Rose.
“Vicissitudes o’ life mate,” said the Beast, in reference to his injuries. Vinnie just stared at him, suspecting a piss-take, and said, “Vicissi-fahkin’ what?”
The Beast had always known that one day it would come down to a square go - him an’ Vinnie. But with two broken ribs, that day would not be today.
“Just means I ‘ad a run in wiv some men abaht town, Vin. Won second prize,” he grinned, trying to lighten the mood.
Vinnie continued to give the Beast the stare. In the old days he just would’ve launched at the cunt - no fahkin’ about - that was the best way to show the boys who was boss. But modern times needed modern methods. And the Beast had his uses.
Vinnie nodded at Bones, who stood up and dumped a sack of five-and ten-pound notes onto the table: all bundled up in great big blocks, like on The Bill or something.
“Farrr-kinell!” swore Finnsy. “What’s this?”
“Wages of sin,” chuckled Vinnie, enjoying the looks on their faces as they stared at the pile and then at him - the provider.
“Lovely place, Australia,” continued Vin as his senior colleagues licked their lips and