There’s nothing like an old friend

I glanced at my watch as I pushed at the door of the Rose and Crown that gloomy November afternoon.

Saturday, just after 1:20. Perfect. They’ll all be here by now. Been looking forward to this for just about every minute of the three months I’d spent in Saudi Arabia, starved of alcohol and female company. Now at end of a one-year contract, thank God. Finished. Highly profitable but no more. Not doing that again. Really missed my friends and drinking-buddies.

Walking up to the bar I pulled up a barstool and sat. Glancing around, no-one from the gang. And a stranger walking towards me wiping his hands on a bar-rag. “What can I get you sir?”

“Er – pint of old grog please” says I, following up with “Has Chris been in yet?”

“Chris? Don’t know a Chris” is the response. “But I only took over three weeks ago so I probably haven’t met all the regulars yet”.

“Oh, right. Are you a new manager then?”

“Sure am. Well, temporarily anyway. The last one – Sam, wasn’t it? Got caught with his hand in the till and was under suspicion of supplying drugs as well, so he got fired on the spot. The brewery parachuted me in to cover for the time being”.

“Oh, right. What about Sam’s wife Betty?”

“Well it seems she had a thing for a man called Frank who drank here and they went off together. Gone down to the West Country, someone said”.

“Another couple – young-ish. John & Julia?”

“Ah that must be the couple that got totalled in their car on the bypass last Thursday week.  You won’t be seeing them again I’m afraid. A speeding drunk coming the other way on the wrong side of the dual carriageway. Tragic”.

“Cripes”, says I. “I’ve only been away for a year and everything’s changed.”

“Yeah – guess so” he said.

“Julie” I said. “Where’s barmaid Julie?”

“All the bar staff have had to go. At least until the brewery have sorted out if any of them were involved in the drugs stuff, but to be honest I don’t suppose any of them will ever be back. That kind of suspicion leaves a lot of bad feeling”.

“Oh – so what about old John who used to sit in that corner then. Where’s he?”

“Ah he was here ‘til last week but then got himself carted him off to hospital. Stroke, I think they said. Don’t know any more”.

So that was that. An empty room apart from a young couple I’d never seen before cosying up in the corner by the slot machine. No mates around, no-one to tell my overseas story to. No-one for a bit of banter or to share a beer with.

I’d taken the Saudi contract to make some good tax-free dosh, gone away and come back. Back to, well, nothing really.

By now I was feeling really deflated when something nudged my right leg, and looking down I saw old Ben, looking back up at me, and definitely on the cadge for some scratchings. Bless him, he must’ve woken up from his customary doze behind the bar, heard my voice and walked around to get his treats, just like he used to.

Well at least he remembers me, I thought so I bought a pack along with a second pint and started feeding them to him, one by one, just like always. And when the packet was empty he flopped down next to me, put his head on his crossed paws and stared up me with his big, soft brown eyes.

“Ah – I see you already know Ben” this from the barman. “Like I said I came in at very short notice but they never told me I’d have to look after a bloody dog too. He’s all right, no trouble really but I could do without that on top of everything else”.

“Well Ben and me go back a long way, don’t we old fella?” I said as I slid off the stool and knelt down to give him a scratch between his ears.

“You want him? If you’d like to take him home he’s yours. I’ll fetch his bowl and lead.”

And as Ben and I walked home together, all of a sudden the world seemed a much brighter, happier place.