Sabre Six : File 51 (13 page)

“Daddy, w
hy hasn’t Griffer come to see me?”

“He loves you so much
, but he’s on holiday at the moment, baby!”

“On holiday!”

“Yes, he’s staying next door with Mrs Jones. You know, the old lady next door!”

“Can I see him soon, D
addy?”

“Of course you can
, baby, of course you can.”

Hannah’s mother and father came up to me and gave me a hug; my own mum and dad stood by my side. Nan had to keep her distance as she was in charge of our Fran now, so we had to make it look like she was the last person she’d be staying with. You never knew who was watching, if you know what I mean. I greeted all the family and friends, each one patting me on the back. Fran would not let me go, and I didn’t want to leave her side. She was my last piece of life, of Hannah. I sat down next to my girl, my little angel so sweet and innocent. I had got her into this awful mess, it was my entire fault and I would never forgive myself until I got that evil bastard
Killeen.

“We are here today to celebrate the life of Hannah Marie Fox,” the
Vicar read on. I was welling up, and my baby girl was still crying on my shoulder. Mum and Dad looked over at me, and I gave them a brief smile back. Hannah’s coffin sat just ten metres away. I wanted to believe it was all a lie, and soon Cilla Black would jump out on me shouting Surprise! Surprise! Sadly, it was not to happen. Her father stood up in front of everyone and read out a prayer; her mother was in shock. As I listened to his poem I clenched my fists in rage. I was going to get Killeen: if it was the last thing I ever did, I would get him. The Vicar read out his last poem and then nodded to the bearers to turn on the CD player, so we could share her favourite song before we said our goodbyes.

“I Will Alway
s Love You” by Whitney Houston – she sang it all the time and it made her excited every time she heard it. It went so quickly. I watched the curtains close and Hannah was gone, my beautiful Hannah was gone. Dad came over and sat next to me. I longed to weep, but I was too embarrassed, and I had to keep strong for my darling Frances. The vicar told us to stand, so we did, but my knees were rather wobbly. Frances continued to hold my hand; Mum gave me a kiss, and Nan kept her distance. I was the last to leave the chapel: I stopped, turned around, and looked at the cross on the wall, where the coffin had once stood. I smiled, and then winked at my beautiful wife as she was laid to rest. “Goodbye, baby, see you soon!”

It was raining hard outside, Mum was soaked, and so Dad ran to the car to get his umbrella.

“Right Michael, we’ll meet you up the Four Seasons then, yeah?”

“Ok! See you in a bit.”

Fran was led away by an armed escort, but she seemed ok about it. When I arrived at the pub everyone was already drinking, and I felt left out. Dad got me a pint and
I literally downed it in one go: I was a thirsty boy. Pete joined me with a few old mates and we got hammered. The barmaid brought us out a few nibbles to munch on, which was good of her. It didn’t take long before Dad was in the toilet throwing up his beer, bless his cotton socks. The alcohol had taken its toll on a few people, and Hannah’s sister burst into tears. I sat down, pulled up a chair nearest the fireplace and finished off the last of my pint.

“Fancy another pint, b
uddy?” My old school mate and a friend of Hannah’s was buying the next round; I felt knackered, exhausted by it all. By half ten, I was propped up at the bar with a double whiskey in one hand, and a packet of ready-salted crisps in the other. Frances had been carted off and I was now sat by my lonesome. Another old school friend, Daniel, turned up for a quick pint. His Mrs had not long kicked him out after he shacked up with another girl. Daniel always wore funny clothes. He seemed straight, but I had my doubts; he may have swung both ways, or even batted for Pakistan instead of England, if you get what I mean. I stumbled out the pub about half one, completely hammered. My brain was telling my body to do one thing, yet my legs were doing the opposite.

“Now listen in
, boys, you need to work together now! Listen to your daddy now!” I was talking to my legs. I needed to get home.

“That
’s it, right, left, right, left!”

“Oh fuck!” I fell into a bush.

I stumbled the six miles home and finally collapsed onto my bed, but it was not long before my head was down the bog throwing up all that beer. Once I had finished throwing up, I got back into bed and collapsed. I found myself fully dressed in the morning, and I had wet myself during the night.  My head was killing me. I could barely see, let alone stand up; I put my head down and fell asleep again for another hour.

I was rudely awoken up by a knock on the door at 07:46am. My head felt like a brick; I had the headache from hell. Walking downstairs to answer the door, I heard Mrs Jones shouting through my letter box.

“Yeah
, I’m coming! Hold on, dear. Oh, my Lord Jesus!”

Throwing on my skids I hunt
ed around for last night’s socks; they smelled fresh enough, for me anyhow! I wrapped a towel around my privates and answered the door, Griffer looking up at me barking with excitement.

“Hello! Was he
a good boy?”

“Oh
, he was an absolute angel, weren’t you my little lovely!”

“Cheers, Mrs Jones
.”

“That’s ok. I don’t like to pry, but how are you feeling now, are you ok?”

“I’m fine, dear, just worried about Fran at the moment.”

“If you
need anything, just pop on over. I’ve always got the tea on!”

“That sounds grand, Mrs Jones
– thank you.”

Griffer ran
to the back door, wanting to check that his territory had not been invaded by squirrels or the local neighbourhood cat. His little tail was wagging like a trooper. I let him outside, got a brew on, and while the kettle boiled I slipped a couple of slices of bread in the toaster. I believed I had some strawberry jam left in the fridge! Then I quickly rang up Fran to make sure she’d got home safely last night.

Nan answered, “How is she doing?” Nan sounded poorly.

“She’s ok, Michael. Moreover, how are you this morning, young man? I think you drank a little too much, so you did.”

“Not far wrong, Nana, you’re not far wrong. My head is killing me.”

“It won’t cure the pain, Michael: it won’t – it’ll only make things worse.”

“Yes
, Nana, I know. You don’t need to explain, I’m a big boy, Nana.”

“
I’m only trying to advise you, son. Don’t listen to me then! It’s your life, Michael.”

I clenched my fist and held
back my anger. “Ok! You win then, Nana. I’ll learn from my mistakes then.” I had to let her win; she was my daughter’s only hope of survival. I polished off my last piece of toast and let Griffer back inside, still wagging his little tail.

“Come on then boy; let’s get you out for a walk.” His
tail was going like heck. We followed our normal route, down the road, up the muddy track, and into the fields, it was heaven for Griffer.  Half way round I bumped into another dog walker, about thirty-five, and good looking. I smiled at her, and she smiled back. Her dog came running up and it didn’t take Griffer long before he fell in love; he was behind her, and riding her like hell. That’s my boy!

I only said a few lines to her, like, “Hi”, and what a horrid week it had been weather-wise. She smiled, and then carried on walking as we passed each other in the rain. By the time I got Gri
ffer home we were soaking wet. The heavens had opened up on us, my feet were bloody soaking, and Griffer’s paws were covered in filth.

“Time for a bath for you, young man. Now come here, you little bastard!” I chased him through the corridor, finally wrapping a towel around him, and then lowering him into the
bath. I ran luke-warm water into the bath to about an inch depth. He loved it really. I could hear the phone ringing, so told Griffer to stay, closed the bathroom door, and then raced downstairs to answer the home phone.

“Hello, m
ate! It’s me, Pete. Fancy a night out on the town tonight, buddy?”

“Are you
having a laugh, mate? I’m still half cut from last night. I can’t even remember my own daughter leaving.”

“I’ll be round at eight to pick you up then. We’ll catch a ta
xi into town, ok? Now sod off, knob-head!” He put the phone down on me, when I remembered little Griffer upstairs. I ran up as quickly as possible, opened the door and found him lying there on his back with all fours in the air. It looked damn funny and I burst out laughing.

“Who’s a good boy the
n, hey? Good boy, Griffer! Who’s a good boy?”

I picked him up and knocked his head on the sink, poor little blighter, so I gave him a big hug. As soon as I’d dried Griffer off, my home phone rang again, and this time it was my daughter, I told her that she was my best girl, and that I loved her with a
ll my heart. She missed her dad. Nan said a quick hello and that was that. Time passed and before I knew it, Pete was standing at my back door with twelve cans of lager.

“You’re a dickhead, Pete.”

“Yeah, I know but you do adore me don’t you, Michael! I’m like your new brother, hey buddy?” He smiled and gave me a hug.

“Hell no! You weird bastard.” I laughed with him.

“Now give us a beer then, you hypocrite. For God’s sake, don’t shake it up, you annoying cretin!” Pete was already half pissed I think by the way he was acting; he was very excited.  I had ironed my new shirt, put on my new jeans and we were off. The taxi was waiting for us outside. I sat in the back, and Pete was laughing. It was the first time I had been able to relax since Hannah went. Maybe the funeral putting a curtain down had given me closure, if you understand. When we arrived in town Pete paid the taxi driver five quid and we jumped out. Our first port of call was ‘The Fountain’, our local on a Saturday night if we were ever about. I got the first round in; Pete had got up, left the bar and gone for a piss, leaving me on my own. I felt a little awkward standing there by myself, as if people were staring back at me. I kept my head down, buried myself in my pint and watched the football on Sky. They had a 42inch plasma on the wall – looked all right from where I was standing.

“What we having now then, m
ate, hey? Do you fancy a shot?” slurred Pete upon his return.

“What sort, m
ate?”

“I think, as it’s
my treat, we should have, umm, Sambucas!”

“Are you joking?”

“No, I am not joking! Come on, live a little, you poof!”

I took the drink in my hand, looked at Pete with his empty glass, and downed it. Jesus
, that was strong! Our Pete was laughing. Pete didn’t know it, but getting me drunk and acting the fool took my mind off things. It made me feel a little easier about myself and gave me hope! A hope for a better future for myself and Fran.

The crowd in the pub got bigger;
there were more men than girls out tonight. I reckoned it was time for us to move on to somewhere else.

We ended up drinking in the ‘Blac
kshear Bar’, in the main square; the women were everywhere. We continued drinking and I was hammered by eleven o’clock. I could barely stand up: my legs were shattered. I was getting too old for this drinking lark – it was definitely a young man’s game. I leant on the bar, and a young girl walked up to Pete. She put her drink down next to his and started chatting away. Pete looked around at her, nervous at first, but he soon settled once his next pint entered his mouth.

“Hello!” She smiled and
her head came closer to Pete’s; she was pissed right up. I was pulling faces at Pete behind her back.

“I’ve been watching you, m
ate; I think you look pretty hot. Are you going to buy me a drink?” She was dressed to impress, top straining to hold her boobs in place, skirt no longer than a belt: all legs and heels.

“No, sorry, I’m off in a bit. Maybe s
omeone else will buy you one.”

“What’s your name
, sexy lips?”

“Pete, what’s yours?”

“Shannon.”

“If you buy me a drink, I’ll take you outside after and suck your cock.”

I pulled a face behind the girl, simulating giving a blow job. Pete smiled back.

“What are you having then
, love?” Pete asked.

“
Bacardi and Coke,” she leered.

“H
ello, Sir! Could I have a Bacardi and coke, and a pint of Fosters?” Pete ordered right up and was outside in the courtyard before you knew it. When Pete finally walked back inside he was full of life, and had a big smile on his face.

“What happened then Pete?”

“She wasn’t lying either! She undid my zip, pulled out my old boy and sucked on it hard. I cum right down her throat. Then she zipped me back up, thanked me for the drink, and then she just walked off.”

What Pete didn’t notice was
that when she did come back inside the pub, she went and stood next to her boyfriend. Of course, I was well chuffed for Pete, but also afraid for him. Apart from that, we had a cracking night. We got up on the dance floor, did a few body pops, a bit of the Michael Jackson moon walk, and sunk a few more beers.