Deceiving April
Simon Sweetman
'Leaving
April was the hardest thing for me', of that Michael Bates was sure.
He addressed a small, square table -- elbowroom only, him and three
other blokes.
'Yeah,
bad month that one', began Doug Sanders. 'Fuckin' Easter and shit!'
Sanders was the type of man that talked as though he almost knew himself,
in the back of his mind, that he should always keep his mouth shut.
'Come
on dummy', snapped Bill Adams. Which is it -- a trick, or a joke --
that you're that stupid?'
'He's
talking about his woman', hissed Frank. No one knew Frank' last name.
Michael, Doug and Bill were all friends from school. Frank was a mate,
but they'd all met at the club one night. Frank worked down the mill
with Doug. Bill and Michael worked in construction; Michael a builder,
Bill a glazier.
The
four drinking buddies stood silent for a while, Michael Bates lifted
one elbow from the table and wiped away the residue of spilt beer. He
raised his 8oz glass and knocked it back, re-fuelling from one of the
two table-shared jugs.
Mike
Bates had left April in June, it was now September. The four men all
knew why, but because it seemed, to Mike, unresolved, he would occasionally
bring up how hard it was all over again. Sort've a rhetorical statement
-- and usually introduced on the 3rd or 4th round.
Frank
returned with two fresh jugs. 'Yeah, was a tough blow alright. You ever
catch the bastard who was banging her', figuring it best to just talk
about it.
'Nah.
The bitch told me it was someone I knew -- like a mate, you know, but
that was just to stir me up I reckon. Fuckin' lived with her for eight
years. Ever since fuckin' school'.
'Yeah,
tough blow alright', Bill Adams.
'Yeah',
Doug Sanders' dull echo.
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