Acropolis

By Chris Kennedy

Justin Goode gambles too much and is sliding into debt faster than he cares to admit.

            When he and his new friend, Tony Chin, embark on a scheme to make themselves some serious money, events unfold far differently to the way they had hoped.

As his world is turned upside down, Justin discovers a sinister threat is hanging over him and those he cares about.

            In an effort to clear his name and get out of danger, he agrees to travel to the Mediterranean to seek out a wealthy businessman and gain his trust.

As the plan progresses and the men get to know one another, Justin begins to relax and his thoughts turn to the approaching journey home. But with the arrival of Tony Chin comes the discovery of a dark secret, casting a worrying shadow over both Justin and Tony.

            With no option but to keep their silence, the pair hope they can survive until their affairs are completed and they can get out of harm’s way.

            But, unfortunately for them, their host is a lot more aware of what is going on than either could imagine and has his own reasons for playing their game.

When the time comes for Justin to leave, he takes with him something which his host would never be prepared to part with and events quickly take a very dark turn.  Within hours he is alone and scared in an unfamiliar city and in desperation, turns to the man he now fears the most.

He cannot help but wonder if this decision will be his last.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chris Kennedy
• Release date: Jul 23, 2013
• ISBN: 9781516378876

Chris Kennedy

Chris Kennedy was born in 1968 in Yorkshire. With no idea what he wanted to do with his life, he drifted through one or two fairly unfulfilling jobs, including some interesting and occasionally unpleasant times as a door to door salesman, before joining a training school in his local casino.             After six years as a croupier he decided it was time to spread his wings and headed to the city of Thessaloniki, remaining there for several months. During his time in Greece, he was drawn to the quaint harbours and marinas that were dotted along the coastline from Thessaloniki to the small town of Michaniona. He spent much time at the water’s edge, enjoying the tranquility and soaking up the atmosphere and even perhaps, being subtly inspired to write his first novel.             When personal circumstances made it necessary to leave Greece, he did so with a sad heart, and always felt since that he had left a small piece of himself behind.             Following a short spell back at home, he moved to Ireland where he still lives today.

Book preview

Prologue

At last night had fallen and the silent air hung thick and heavy. It had been almost three hours since there had been any signs of life in the railway yard but still Justin had not dared to venture out into the open. Half sitting, half laid out on the rough wooden sleeper, he had barely moved since he had flung himself, gasping and panting, beneath the railway wagon earlier that day.

He had seen or heard numerous trains pass through the yard, and he had prayed that the particular wagon under which he had been hiding would not suddenly spring to life and move off down the track, following the seemingly endless column of wagons of which it was a part. But apparently he had made a lucky choice when he selected this particular line of trucks to crawl beneath. With a whiny squeaking of wheels the line next to it had suddenly rolled out of sight only about half an hour after he had hidden himself. 

As he had stumbled across the tracks in search of shelter, he had been vaguely aware of a sign attached to a nearby wire fence, with faded Greek lettering and a symbol of a video camera.  Even in his blind panic and desperate bid to find shelter, he had imagined his grainy image appearing on a television monitor somewhere and a bored operator watching his clumsy shape move slowly across the screen. He could almost hear the conversation as the operator picked up the phone and casually informed the police that there was an intruder in the yard, a bloodied and desperate looking intruder at that.

There could be guard dogs patrolling the yard too, and that frightened him more than being picked up by the police. The smell of his blood and sweat must have been easy for a dog to pick up, and the thoughts of being discovered by a hungry hound brought him out in goose bumps and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

But slowly he had calmed down and the realisation that he had managed to hide himself successfully beneath the dusty wagon gradually allowed his heaving lungs to begin to breathe something close to normally. Only then did the true realisation of his situation begin to sink in and he was able to see past the blinding panic that had recently enveloped him.

Everything had been going well. Maybe it had been going too well. He had always been of the cynical view that if everything was going perfectly then it meant that something was bound to go wrong. But that was just it... what did go wrong?

One minute everything had seemed almost perfect. They expected to be leaving the country within only a few hours, and would have been well out of reach of any attempt at pursuit. This had become a dangerous part of the world for them and the prospect of leaving it behind had filled them both with excitement to the point that they were jabbering away like young children on Christmas Eve.

He allowed his mind to replay the moment when it had all gone horribly wrong and once more he felt the burning pain in his heart as he recalled his feelings of joy and excitement that turned to shock and horror in an instant. He could remember feeling completely stunned and temporarily unable to move. Then, as his brain began to slowly accept the dreadful change of circumstances, he became aware of people shouting and screaming and now he had a vague recollection of someone pointing at him. After that the memory became a little hazy despite being so recent. His nose had bled after a rough fall and his knees too were painful. His trousers were stuck to them and swelling made them stiff and difficult to move.

Subconsciously he reached out for his bag, yet knowing it wasn’t there. Containing his clothes, the best part of his money and most of all, his passport, the bag would no doubt now be in the hands of the police. He cursed himself for not picking it up before fleeing the scene.

He was not so much concerned about having no change of clothes and he still had a little money in his pocket, but without his passport, leaving the country was not going to be easy.

His choices were very limited and the more he thought about it, the more he became convinced that there was only one course of action open to him. There was one person who could help him and if he agreed to, then Justin could be out of the country in no time. But there was a problem.

Due to his recent activities, seeking this help just might result in him facing death within the next few hours. It wasn’t that he was afraid of risking death, but he had crossed the wrong person and he imagined that every ounce of revenge and satisfaction would be squeezed from his last moments on this Earth.

Startled at the sound of an approaching car, he stared nervously from his hiding place and across the empty tracks at the entrance to the yard. As the gates burst into view in the pale yellow glow of headlights, he felt his heart begin to pound. A police car eased to a stop in front of the small office building that had so far remained in darkness but now had a single light shining behind a lowered blind on the second floor. As he watched, the front door opened and a man appeared wearing what look like dark overalls. Seconds passed as the two policemen walked slowly over to the man and stood with their backs to Justin as he lay peering out from his hiding place on the tracks.

As his head filled with images of life inside a Greek prison, of overcrowded cells with no air conditioning, poor hygiene and cockroaches as big as mice, his stomach gave a lurch and the muscles in his throat began to tighten, preparing to vomit. There might be violence too, and not just from the inmates. Beatings may well be dished out to prisoners who spoke up when they were expected to be quiet. He visualised his worst nightmare ready and waiting for him to take part.

They might be easier on him if he handed himself in so perhaps he should take this opportunity to do just that. He would be caught anyway sooner or later so why not just save himself the time and effort of running any farther.

He closed his eyes as he tried to think clearly and, fighting the fear and confusion that reigned within, forced himself to repeat the thought that he was not the one who had fired the gun. Okay, what he had been doing was morally wrong but that didn’t make him a killer. All he needed to do was to explain his involvement, simple as that. So why was he still scared?

The sound of laughter drifted across the night air from the three men as he prepared to crawl out from his hiding place, one hand gingerly reaching out from the shadow and being caressed by soft moonlight. 

Suddenly, the man with the police officers slammed the door to the office building and the three men headed off to Justin’s left, vanishing from sight behind a locomotive.

His mind reeling, he lay back on the hard track and listened to his breath coming in short gasps. He had almost done it, almost called out to tell them where he was hiding. It would have all been over by now. The hard part would have been done and he would have been under arrest. The chase would have ended.

As his eyelids began to feel heavier than ever before, it was comforting to relax them and he felt them gently close. Exhaustion told each and every one of his tired muscles to relax.

Must not sleep, must not sleep. He repeated it in his head even though he was dimly aware that his whole body was beginning to unwind. Even the wooden sleeper beneath his head suddenly seemed comfortable and he allowed his head to gently roll on to one side. As fatigue enveloped him like a warm blanket he gradually gave in and within another minute he was sound asleep.

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xxx

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From his favourite armchair, Maciek stared blankly at the empty screen of the television which showed nothing other than a dusty reflection of the sparsely furnished room. Then pulling his reluctant eyes from the lifeless box, he glanced around at the familiar room as he had done so many times before.

With its pale, worn carpet and faded curtains, it was far from luxurious and gave no hint of the healthy balance of Maciek’s bank accounts. In the ashtray at his feet, a perfectly formed cigarette-shaped piece of ash let off its last thin whisper of smoke and he stared down at it as though only now becoming aware of the second cigarette that had burned away untouched in the last hour.

In the kitchen he chose to ignore the pile of unwashed dishes that had been there for the best part of the day, and selected a bottle from the cupboard over the sink. Then he splashed an extra large measure of Polish vodka into a dirty glass and headed back to his chair, flopping back into it and resuming his stare at the blank television.

Only a few hours earlier he had been happy and enjoying the day with his usual long walk after lunch. He had spent the time daydreaming about his plans for the future, enjoying the feeling of complete freedom as he drifted along, smiling at the occasional passing stranger and completely at ease with his thoughts.

The ringing telephone had made him hurry as he pushed his key into the lock, burst the door open and jumped around to the small table where he kept the phone. As soon as he had heard the smooth voice coming through the flimsy plastic handset, he felt his heart begin to sink and his mood change with every silky syllable that eased its way into his ear. For the ten minutes he was on the phone, he had only spoken a handful of words, just what was needed to confirm his instructions. A long afternoon had followed, with his anger at his own inability to say no, gradually building within him.

The clock on the mantelpiece showed almost nine o’ clock and he watched intently, staring at the hands until they reached the hour. Then springing up, he downed the remainder of his drink, scooped his leather jacket off the back of the sofa and headed for the door.

The air was cooler than it had been during the afternoon and there was the promise of rain in the air. With the collar of his leather jacket pulled up around his ears, he sank his head down into it as far as he could. Not that he felt cold, but having his face partially hidden gave him a sense of anonymity that he relished.

In his head he played over the telephone conversation again, aware that thinking about it was only going to make his mood worse. He cursed himself for taking the call in the first place and then again for accepting the job. His retirement had not even begun yet and here he was, taking another job that was nothing short of an inconvenience. Of course the money would come in handy, but he did not need it. There were enough funds stashed away in various accounts that could more than cover anything he would ever need.

Perhaps he felt he owed it to do the job and that it would be wrong to turn it down. Many jobs had come from this source, well paid jobs at that, and once he had heard that his help was really needed, he felt compelled to accept. At least it sounded like easy money. If the brief outline he was given was anywhere close to accurate then he might not have to actually do anything. Maybe this was to be a relatively effortless mission, and one that would be an ideal way to wind down his career and launch his retirement.

Thoughts of long lazy days spent unwinding with a bottle of good vodka put a smile on his lips. Would he stay here in Poland, he wondered, or perhaps spend a few months travelling. There were plenty of places he had visited during his career but he had been unable to enjoy them due to the nature of his work. He checked names off a list in his head. There were at least a dozen places to choose from. His planned trip to Greece might give him some inspiration, and he conjured up images of golden beaches baked in burning white sunlight and of a clear, cool ocean that was as calm as a mill pond. There were girls walking on his beach too. Pretty girls wearing tiny bikinis, that laughed easily and were not only looking for money and whatever else they could get out of him. He cursed silently. Who was he trying to fool? They were all the same, once you got to know them. Even the women in his imaginary paradise were whores.

He quickened his pace as the gloom and depression descended over him once more. This would be no holiday. It would be another game of patience and planning, of waiting for instructions and waiting for the right time and location. Waiting, waiting, he was so tired of it.

An empty can rattled noisily across the pavement as he lashed out with his foot and then followed with a hard stamp, flattening it in one go. But it would take more than this brief act of aggression to make him feel better and he increased his pace once again. The red light district was less than two miles away.

1

A narrow beam of hazy sunshine squeezed through the gap in the curtains and Justin closed his eyes again and pressed his face into the back of Lynn’s neck. He had decided to ignore the fact that his alarm clock showed almost eleven thirty and hoped to drift back off. Lynn’s body was warm and comforting and smelled faintly of perfume.

‘Good morning’, she muttered without turning over. ‘I was wondering when you would stir.’

He nuzzled gently at her neck. ‘Go back to sleep.’

‘No’, she said in a firm voice as she rolled over to face him. ‘I need to work today and you can’t change my mind.’

Groaning, he threw back the duvet and headed for the en suite. ‘But you own the shop,’ he called over his shoulder. ‘I thought that was the whole point in having an assistant, they can work for you while you spend quality time with your lover.’ He poked his head around the door and added, ‘That’s me by the way,’ just managing to miss the pillow that was aimed at him.

Lynn was telling him something about weddings and ordering flowers but the water splashing into the sink prevented him from hearing her clearly.

The curtains were open wide when he stepped back into the bedroom and a fresh breeze drifted through the open window.

‘It’s times like this I wish I had considered the view before I rented this place,’ he muttered, half to himself. ‘Even in the glorious sunshine everything still looks grey and drab.

A big old factory dominated the view and cast such a dark shadow across the canal that it could have been night. Even the swans that had graced the still water when he first moved in had gone now, their departure leaving an empty and stark landscape behind.

‘What are you grumbling about?’ She already looked fresh and awake, and had her hair tied back in a ponytail. She was munching on a slice of toast as she joined him at the window.

‘That factory has been empty since before I moved in here. There are hardly any tiles left on the roof and kids have put nearly every window through. There aren’t even any doors left hanging. It’s just an empty, grey shell that’s only any good for giving shelter to the homeless, and a few junkies too I imagine. No wonder I don’t look out of the window much, it just depresses me.’

She stopped him as he tried to pull the curtains closed. ‘It’s time you had some fresh air in this flat. It might do you some good. If you’re not stuck in here with the curtains closed, you are in the bookies were there are no windows’. Then patting him lightly on the side of the face she added, ‘That must be how you manage your skin colour. That pale yellow tint must be the envy of every guy in York.’

He didn’t take the bait but gazed down at the derelict building again. ‘Saying that, I’ve not seen any of the regulars down there for a good while. I used to see the same familiar faces whenever I walked along that track but they all vanished. Found a better place to bed down I guess.’

Pulling him away from the window she stuck her toast into his mouth and waited until he had bitten a piece off. ‘C’mon. I might as well make sure you have something to eat seeing as I’m here. You know what you are like, who knows when you’ll eat again.’

There was more toast ready in the kitchen and he was just finishing the last piece when she asked, ‘So do you want to do something tonight? I should be finished by seven at the latest.’

‘Sorry I can’t tonight. If I don’t put some hours in they will think I have quit working the office.’ He felt a deep pang of guilt as the smile faded from her lips and he pressed on with his lie. ‘I really should be putting more hours in at the moment. Seemingly people are not using taxis so much. When I am working, I seem to spend most of my time sitting in the office waiting for jobs to come in.’

It was true that the money he was earning was a lot lower than it could be, but this was more down to him only putting in a minimal amount of hours than to the people of York opting for another mode of transport. Instead he usually chose to spend his time placing bets and watching his selections perform on the television.

‘Well, work this afternoon instead. Then you can have the night off.’

He had his answer ready. ‘I can’t unless I arrange it in advance. There are only a certain amount of cars on during the day and if I turn up the lads will see it that I am taking money off them. It’s like I said before, there just isn’t enough work to go around.’

‘I suppose I should put in some extra time at the shop anyway,’ Lynn sighed. ‘We are busy after all, and I might as well get ahead with the orders for the next few days.’

His guilt was beginning to ease already. He dressed as Lynn took a quick shower, and made sure he had everything he needed ready to go.

‘Are you going out?’ she said as she reappeared from the bathroom.

‘Maybe later,’ he muttered hoping she would leave it at that.

It was another twenty minutes before she left and the moment he heard the front door bang shut, he picked up the newspaper and began studying the racing pages. But unlike a normal day, he did not score a line under his chosen horse. Instead he carefully read and reread the form for each horse before folding the newspaper neatly and placing it next to his jacket.

Feeling refreshed after a long hot shower, he stood in front of his mirror and did his best to wipe away the steam with his fingertips. Even in the wet misty glass, he could see that the face staring back at him was beginning to look its age.

The flecks of grey that had been with him for some time were gradually spreading through his dark brown hair, appearing clearly at the sides where it was shaved short. Peering closely, he could even make out a few off-white strands in his short fringe. He shook his head and smiled to himself. There had been a time when Lynn would take a pair of tweezers and pluck out any offending hairs, usually poking fun at him at the same time. But she had stopped doing that, and now as he stared at himself he understood the reason why. The battle to keep the grey hairs from sight had long been lost.

He had never shown much concern for his appearance really. Even through his adolescent years, when some were changing the style and colour of their hair on an almost weekly basis and when the label attached to a piece of clothing was the most talked about thing of the day, he had plodded along and shown little interest in it all.

His hair style was as it was, short and shaved at the sides, and he had never felt the need to change it. It was neat and tidy, and that was well enough for him. As for fashion and trends, his were governed more by what was clean and available to wear without the need for ironing than anything else. That was another trait he had chosen to keep as he aged.

He often wondered, if he had not been a typically average kid who just took things as they were and generally got on with life in his own quiet little world, would things be much different today?

Recently he had bumped into a couple of old school friends, both of which had well-paid jobs and fast cars. One of them was married and they both had kids. Maybe it was time he took a bit more control of himself and his own life and started to grow up instead of simply drifting along with the tide.

He had to face it, middle-age was creeping up on him.  The once clear eyes staring back at him had lost their sparkle and the bags beneath only got worse when he pulled his jaw downwards to try and tighten his skin.

Grabbing at a towel he wiped the mirror as dry as he could and studied his physique. He was happy with his height at five feet nine but had always wished his shoulders had been that bit broader. He pushed them back now, noticing the slight overhang of his stomach and doing his best to draw it in. A sure sign of too much food combined with too little exercise, it was something that bothered him from time to time, and was not helped much by his lifestyle either. The reflection became blurry again as the mirror fogged once more, and he took that as a sign to move on.

There was not much he could do about it anyway, apart from a change in diet and the introduction of some exercise into his lazy days. They were things he could deal with another day. For now he threw on some clothes and headed for the door, picking up his jacket and newspaper on the way.

The first race at York racecourse was scheduled for six o’ clock and he intended to be there for the start. But first he hoped to relax and enjoy a few pints in his local pub, The Beanpole.

A strong smell of vinegar greeted him as he entered the lounge, and he caught a quick smile from a barmaid as she hurried past carrying two oval plates piled high with fish and chips.

Justin cast his eyes across the faces in the lounge. Most of them he knew, perhaps not by name but they were familiar enough to smile or give a friendly nod.

The Beanpole had an older crowd than most of the pubs in the area and he often got the feeling that most of the clientele had been using the bar all of their adult lives. The decor too, must have been the same since even the oldest of the regulars had started to use the place.

Above the door leading to the outside toilets, a tell tale rectangle of cleanish white stood out against a background of nicotine stained yellow. He often smiled to himself when he considered that he probably looked at that clean patch more than he would have the picture that once hung there.

The pattern on the carpet was barely recognisable and an almost threadbare patch ran level with the bar, where years of shuffling feet had just about destroyed it completely. The dark wood of the tables was stained and pitted and matched perfectly the chairs that had only a few pieces of lumpy padding left in the seats. Still, what the room lacked in decoration and comfort, it made up for in atmosphere and charm, and Justin loved it.

Perched on a stool, he held his glass to his mouth and closed his eyes, allowing himself to focus on the taste of the cider and the sensation of bubbles bursting on his tongue.

‘Hello, stranger,’ said a familiar voice. His friend Alan patted him on the back as he ordered himself a drink and pulled up a stool. ‘No work today?’

‘Not for me. I’ve arranged a much more pleasant way to pass the day,’ Justin said gesturing to his glass. As his friend was wearing white jeans and a hoodie instead of one of his usual business suits, it looked like he also had the day to himself.

‘What about Lynn, I thought you were spending today with her?’

Justin shook his head. ‘No, she had to go to work.’

‘Fair enough,’ said Alan as he paid for his drink. ‘Are you seeing her tonight then?’

‘Not sure really, I don’t think so.’

Alan’s eyes flicked briefly at the newspaper on the bar. ‘Are you going racing tonight?’

‘I don’t think so. I’ll just have a few pints and see what happens. I might go along but I doubt it.’

They were silent for a few moments and Justin could almost hear his friend’s brain at work as he put together his next statement.

‘We’ve been friends for so long now, Justin, a long time’

Justin nodded, keeping his eyes on his pint.

‘I can tell when you are being evasive. You’re not sure if you will see Lynn tonight and you doubt that you will go racing. Do you think I don’t know you at all?’

Alan was right. He knew him well enough to know that he couldn’t resist a day or evening at the racecourse and with the weather as it was, it would be almost impossible for him to stay away. He only hoped that Lynn wouldn’t put things together so easily.

‘Okay, you caught me,’ he sighed.

‘Justin, I’m not quite sure how to say this and it will probably upset you, but I think if I don’t say it, it will be on my mind until such time as I do.’

He didn’t turn to face him. ‘Go on.’

‘Look, we all like our fun, we all have our vices. It’s just that I get the impression that yours is causing you stress. What I am trying to say, Just, is that you seem to be overdoing it, gambling that is.’

‘Don’t be so daft,’ Justin was unsettled and his effort to laugh the comment off was lost.

‘Look, I need a smoke, Just. Can we go outside?’

The sun was beaming down from a cloudless sky and the heavy scent of honeysuckle added to the feeling that this was one of those rare, perfect summer days.

They both stopped and took in the view for a few seconds and Justin made a mental note to spend more time out here in the fresh air instead of propping up the bar. Maybe Lynn had a point, after all.

The paved area where they were standing was met by rich grass that swept away in a downward slope to where it touched thick bushes that looked as though they came in every shade of green and brown imaginable. At either side of this huge green area, perfectly trimmed privet hedges standing eight or nine feet high, stretched all the way from the outer edges of the big courtyard down to the foliage at the bottom, creating a pleasant sense of privacy. Beyond the garden, a boat crammed with tourists slowly made its way along the Ouse, with the distant voice of a tour guide managing to reach them across the still air.

Alan put his head back and slowly blew out a cloud of grey smoke. ‘I’ll tell you what,’ he sighed, ‘it may be bad for you but on days like this, the risk seems worth it.’ He took another puff and exhaled it in the same leisurely way. ‘So can I be frank with you?’ he asked putting his arm around Justin’s shoulders.

‘I have the feeling that you will be anyway, despite what I say, so fire away.’

‘I see you a lot Justin, every week at least twice, and so does Lynn. She passed a comment the other day that you didn’t quite seem yourself. That was all she said, it was no in depth discussion or anything, but it got me thinking. You don’t seem yourself, it’s like you have something on your mind, all the time.’

‘I’m just the same as always, nothing is wrong,’ he said, swinging his leg over a wooden bench and leaning on the weather beaten table.

‘I get the impression that you have been having a bad run with the old horses.’

‘There are good weeks and bad weeks, they all balance out.’ Justin’s laugh sounded hollow and he knew his friend picked up on it.

‘Maybe the bad weeks outnumber the good? Or maybe you are having a bad month...or year maybe?’ Alan was certainly persistent.

The two locked stares across the table and were silent for several long seconds until Justin broke the deadlock.

‘Listen, thanks for your concern, really. But everything is fine. As far as my gambling is concerned, I am keeping my head above water.’ It was the second lie that he had told a friend that day and he tried not to dwell on the fact.

‘What about Lynn?’ Alan asked quietly. ‘How are things there?’

It was a good question and one that Justin had asked himself only last night, lying next to her as they caught their breath and drifted off to sleep.

‘Things are okay. Not too serious but not too casual. I think it’s what we both want at the moment.’ He watched as Alan made a meal out of stubbing his cigarette.

‘Lynn told me she would like more, Just.’

So they had been discussing him and his relationship with Lynn. The words stung.

‘I’m flattered that you both spend your time talking about me,’ he snapped.

‘No, no, it wasn’t like that.’ Alan said gently, holding up his hands. ‘Look, don’t be so defensive. Lynn just said that she would like a relationship with a little more regularity, that’s all. At the moment, you two meet up and spend a night or two together, and then off you both go on your own again for a couple of weeks. She just seems to want something more stable, that’s all I’m saying.’

‘I’m really happy we bumped into each other today, Alan.’ He stood up and picked up their empty glasses. ‘I’ll get us another.’

He was glad of a delay in being served, and stared hard at the back of the bar and brooded over his friend’s words.

Things with Lynn seemed to be going alright, not great perhaps but alright. He liked his own space and time to think about things other than those which involved her. He would have been happy to keep things ticking over as they were, but now that he had heard what she told Alan, how could things stay the same?

‘I thought you weren’t coming back,’ his friend smiled at him when he returned with the refilled glasses.

‘We’re still friends. I just prefer my business to be kept private.’

‘Seriously though, Just, are you okay?’

‘I’m fine, really. If you must know, and this is between me and you only, things with Lynn are a bit stale. We are getting along alright but, I don’t know what it is, sometimes I think she’s not the one for me.’

‘Are you crazy?’ Alan gasped. ‘I always told you what a catch she was. She’s funny, bright, and she’s pretty too. She owns a business, which she runs very successfully, and let’s face it, she has a great body...’ He tapered off.

They lapsed into another painful silence which dragged on for several long seconds until Alan muttered something about the bathroom and left his seat.

Relieved that the moment was over, Justin turned his attention to a young couple that were seated at the next table. Now as he watched they sat in silence, gazing into each others eyes and with their fingers touching in the centre of the wooden table. Lost in their own private world, they were oblivious to the gentle buzz of conversation and occasional laughter that was all around them. It was as though they were alone in the garden and the sun was beaming down especially for them like some gigantic spotlight.

He imagined it was Lynn and himself sitting at that table. In a dreamy world where the main topic of conversation was what they would be doing that evening or which restaurant they should use at the weekend, it seemed that nothing could come between them. Days and nights would blend into one long haze of happiness. Magic.

The truth was not quite as rosy as the dream though, and as Alan suddenly reappeared and dropped more drinks onto the table, Justin was quickly brought back to the reality that his relationship was nothing like the warm glow emanating from the young couple.

‘Listen, Just, I didn’t mean to have