CHAPTER 71
The rest of the interview was a bit of a blur, so I was surprised when it came to an end. Tom thanked us all and then one of his staff took us down to the staff canteen, where he joined us after about twenty minutes. Ernie nodded to him.

“When’s proper filming, then?”

The presenter grinned. “That was it, Ernie. Got you relaxed, didn’t it? I’ve got a number of sessions like that, which we’ll string together with me doing the more formal bit as an intro. What we will want, if that’s OK, is some footage of your day to day stuff. Set the scene for the audience. Walking into work, sitting in pub, feeding ducks in the park, whatever it is you do in daily life. Would you mind?”

My pal looked around at the group, and one by one we nodded, Chalky laughing.

“Like that programme on the Arctic and Mountain cadre, aye? Mike always called them ‘Rock and Ice’; they had them doing all the daft stuff, like with the cat, and then there’s one of them in a suit and tie, at a desk”

Ian looked puzzled. “Cat?”

“Aye, a cat. They’re off on some exercise, test like, and they’ve got to live off land, but there’s this old dear lives nearby, keeps sneaking them teas and snap, and then one day she says, anyone seen my ginger tom? And this one lad, well, he’s not only eaten the bugger, he’s bloody well skinned it and is wearing it as a hat! Laugh, I nearly pissed meself!”

Tom did laugh, but I don’t think he lost any bladder control, though I did have to go and pay a visit just then. When I came back, Ernie was nattering away to the presenter.

“Gerald, were just telling Tom here about trip we did. Says he wishes he’d known before we went”

“I do indeed, Gerald. It would have been an excellent opener for the show. Hang on…”

He took out a mobile telephone, and tapped in a number.

“Hang on… Rishi? Hi. Got a proposal for you, with this latest group. Bit of OB work, if you have the budget. No, Belgium. Couple of days, I think. We’d need… hang on. Gents, who would be up for a visit to Gerald’s little… the place three of you will remember? Get some stuff to set the scene? All of you? Ah. Rishi, you get that? Hotels and plane tickets for all of us”

Ernie raised his hand, like a schoolboy with a question. “We might happen to be able to find a cheaper place to stay. Sort of open invitation, like, with people in village”

There was a light in Tom’s eyes now, as if he scented blood. “Sod that! Got an even better idea! Rishi, we need to talk. Got a big one about to drop, round, fat and shiny yellow! Can you look up the Mayor’s number? Leeds or York, I don’t give a shit. We just need some tit with a chain and an OB crew. We do this as a one-off, sets the scene for the whole bloody series. On it? Later!”

He closed the little phone up, and looked at us all. “Buggered if we can spring for the Falklands, and Yemen’s rather out of the question, but if we can do a sort of town-twinning and scene-setting in one, we have a place of which three of you have memories in common. Get the scene set, cut to that bit in the studio, bang, ratings guaranteed! Just need to see what we can get from the Belgians… Look, leave this one with me. I think we’ve got something special here. Something that would really do proper honour to the mates I know you’ve all lost”

He shook his head, sadly. “I have no idea how the hell you boys have kept going, how you managed to put so much shit behind you and get on with life. Look, Ernie, Gerald, if you have the number for the people over there, I’ll get our researchers onto it. Got to go now, look at what we call the rushes. This is going to be big!”

He was off, leaving the younger lads shaking their heads in disbelief. Chalky sighed.

“He thinks he’s got it, doesn’t he? Really thinks he understands?”

Ian shook his head. “I don’t really think so, mate. He’s trying, but I think, what it is, like, well, I think he knows he doesn’t, can’t get it, but he’s doing his best to try and tell folk what he can”

Chalky nodded, then grinned. “Pub by station, lads. Pint?”

Ernie laughed, as happily as I had ever heard him. “Squaddies and beer? Aye, go on”

Chalky gave back a mock scowl. “Watch who you’re calling a bloody squaddie, mate! Ill shout that car they left for us”

Fifteen minutes later Ian had directed the driver right past the station to a proper old pub, the Grove, and we each held a pint as Ernie led the traditional offering to absent friends. There was silence for a while, broken by Ian’s prod about Belgium. Ernie sipped for a while, framing his reply.

“Well, Joe remembers it. That’s not thing you’re asking, is it? You want to know what’s SP now?”

“Aye”

“Ordinary folk, son. Just like here, just like---Gerald, remember that talk you had with young Ashley? About what it would have been like for us, his local, his sister?”

I nodded. “Lad couldn’t get his head round it, so I gave him a few home truths about what occupation really means. Your home, your people, aye? Brought it home to lad, I think”

Ernie patted my arm. “Aye, it did. Lads, typical little village, where family comes back to find a grave in their garden and burnt-out vehicles in their hedge. They remember”

Chalky barked out a laugh that wasn’t real. “And that were thing in Bosnia: no end to it. Krauts are being nice now, Belgians are friendly, it’s gone away, but down there they just won’t let it. Can’t see me going back for a bloody drinks reception. Another pint, lads, then I have to be off. Grandson’s having a birthday party. Won’t do to turn up pissed”

We said our goodbyes, and I made my way home, and not that much later—far too soon—a medic was shoving a tube thing up my back passage. I didn’t understand a word of what they were saying, but the tube wasn’t as big as I’d feared and they had used something slippery that did whatever trick it was supposed to. The bad bit was after, when they stuck a needle in the crook of my arm to steal some blood. I had to go back in a week later, for something that involved lying very still and listening to rubbish pop music while an extremely noisy machine hammered away the other side of some ear protectors. They weren’t protecting me against the dreadful music, though.

I managed to put it out of my mind for a while, as life got hectic again. We had the trip to Belgium, of course, but before that Pete was back. Both Petes. Susie was fussing stupidly before we went over to Acaster.

“No staring at her, Gerald. No trying to see whether anything shows. And no hovering. We get us meal and drinks, and we sit and mind us own business. Let the girl see Pete has friends, but don’t hog their time. Got that? Mam? You too! No trying to see what the ring looks like. I know you too well”

Val drove us that evening, and we found a seat outside as the weather was set fair, or perhaps because Val thought it would give her more time to inspect the older of the two women for suitability. I was learning a lot from her daughter about women’s thought processes, and that in turn stopped my own thoughts in their tracks.

Susie was Susie. There was nothing in her that said man, bloke, chap, son, and although I had realised that years before, it was still difficult to forget how she had started life. Physically, she looked far better now than she had done when we first met on that awful February night, but I felt a lot of that was down to relaxing. She had never been anybody’s pushover, always ready to fight her corner, but as she settled into what she must have thought of as her real life, recovered after a long nightmare, the woman became more and more obvious. Andy was no doubt helping, but it was Val I suspected made the difference. I had seen the like before, where someone changes a wrong opinion so completely that they feel honour-bound to atone by correcting everyone else’s.

So, I took my lead from my girl, and we sat in the sun and waited for our friends Susie ordered and paid for our meal, after a sharp reminder to her fiancé that she earned more than him and wouldn’t be ‘kept’ like a kid, and I reconsidered my thoughts about her losing her prickliness.

“There they are…”

Val was almost whispering, but there was no way they could have heard her over the chatter of the other customers. Pete senior saw us, and I was surprised to see his son still in a chair, being pushed by a slim and slightly horse-faced blonde. The older woman was an absolute stunner, though, not a hair out of place and looking more Country Life than housewife.

Pete came over to our table. “Thanks for this, folks. Lets the girls see we’ve still got roots. They don’t know I’ve told you about Laura, none of them, so, not a word, yeah?”

He called them over. “You all know the boy, so I’ll leave him out, but this is Laura, my prospective daughter in law, and her mother Lucinda, my… my own intended. Lucy, Laura, this is my good friend Gerald, got the boatyard over there. His girl Susie, her mother Val, and Susie’s own intended, Andy”

There was an odd shuffling movement among the women that I caught out of the corner of my eye before realising that three of them, consciously or unconsciously, were shuffling their hands so that each left was visible. I was surprised at Laura, though, especially after my thoughts about Susie. I had half-expected some sort of recognition, common bond, whatever, but she just smiled, shook hands with us all and stayed completely fixed on young Pete. He, in turn, made his excuses about having to discuss a lot of family business and led the group off to another table.

Val was whispering again. “That’s a lad?”

Her daughter’s tone was cold. “Rephrase that, Mam”

“Sorry, love. You’re right. She’s besotted, isn’t she?”

Suddenly Susie was laughing. “See the two of them flashing their bloody rings?”

Andy put an arm around her shoulder. “That was three of you, love! Aye, that lass is stuck on him, but I were watching the lads. Neither of them were far behind. Mam’s a bit ice-queen, though”

Val shook her head. “Don’t think so. I were watching her, and she were watching everyone and everything. I think… Look, it’s a mother thing, but I suspect that she’d, well; that she’d kill for her daughter. Look at her now, look how close she is to Pete. That’s not being cold, that’s being protective”

Andy laughed out loud. “What? You mean like you were with me?”

Val gave him a flat stare. “Aye, son. Exactly like. I were wrong, years ago, but I learned better. Nobody hurts my daughter. Now, too serious for tonight. Susie: dresses. Bridesmaids. Reception”

They were off, and another week later so was I, as we all flew out to Belgium.