Byker Books

 

 

‘That’s it for me like Nick, that’s the finish.’

‘Shut up man, you’re just saying that because of the come down. You always say that after a big night out.’

Big Phil considered what Nick was saying and for a moment he almost allowed himself to defer to his friends assessment of the situation.

‘Nah, not this time Nick, it’s different. I’ve been thinking about it all morning, I’m just sick of it all.’

‘Sick of what? Going out and having a laugh. You’re having a bad comedown, I told you to meet me earlier, you know the drink’s the only thing to bring you down gently.’

Phil did concede to Nick’s assessment this time, whenever they had enjoyed a night full of drug induced hedonism in the past the only semi-cure available was the drink, but then again that led to problems of its own.

‘Nah I’m serious mate, after today I’m cutting down on that as well. This isn’t the way to be living.’

‘Phil man, get a grip. You’re only twenty one and you’re going on like some repentant old alcoholic.’

Phil took a moment to think, he knew that Nick would take the mick out of him but he decided that the first step toward his new, healthy lifestyle was honesty.

‘It’s alright for you though Nick, you’re not the figure of fun.’

Nick almost spat out the head of the pint that he’d just supped.

‘What you on about figure of fun?’

Phil mentally ticked off the key points of the speech that he’d played over in his sleepless, amphetamine driven mind last night.

‘That’s all I am to you lot, a figure of fun. It’s always a case of “Oh look its big Phil

off his head doing stupid things again”. It’s never “Oh look at normal Nick dancing and pulling birds.” well I’m not doing it anymore.’

‘Phil you’re six foot four and nineteen stone, of course it looks funny when you’re off your head, but it’s not just that, you’re a funny bloke.’

‘I’m not, I’m the figure of fun, there’s a difference. You all expect me to do daft things for your amusement and for years I’ve played along with it because I wasn’t the hard one or the one who pulled all the birds in the group. That’s my part, that’s how I’m defined in our squad.’

‘Fuck me Phil; did you take some acid along with that base last night? You’re our mate and we all go out together, we all score, we all take the mick out of each other and we all get off our heads. It’s what we do; we’re all figures of fun.’

Phil knew that it was in Nick’s best interest to keep him as he was. Most of his banter evolved around stories of Phil’s antics and he could see straight through his desperate attempt to keep the status quo.

‘You know that’s not true Nick, who got robbed off a prostitute in Cologne and had to walk back seven miles to the hotel? Who took too many pills and shit himself on the dance floor at the shindig?’

‘Whoa, wait there, none of that was our fault mate, you got yourself in that state.’

‘Aye but only because I was playing my role, the figure of fun, no-one ever tried to stop me did they?’

Nick sat back in absolute amazement; this had come from nowhere, he’d been looking forward to a leisurely paced all day drinking session designed solely to wash away the effects of last nights abrasive chemicals. He knew that he’d struggle with anything different so his instinct was one of survival.

‘Well Phil all that’s came out of nowhere for me like, I’m not sure what to say except you’ve obviously thought about it for quite a bit and if it’s what you want then fair enough.’

‘It’s what I want.’

‘Well why don’t we make a deal, have two more nights out, tonight where we’ll just get pissed and see what happens and next week as you’ve already paid for the races.’

‘I’m not sure, maybe I’m better off just stopping it from now.’

Nick sensed his own comedown rearing its head and didn’t fancy being left alone to fend it off.

‘If I was you I would use today to draw a line under the old you, then you’ve got a solid reference point that you’ve chosen. It shows that you’re in control of the situation.’

‘What about the races though?’

‘The races are where you could show everyone the new, sober, sensible Phil.’

Phil felt good inside despite the churning of his stomach crying out for sustenance to help quell the effects of last night’s excesses. Nick’s responsible suggestion had impressed him; he was obviously taking him seriously which was half the battle, with Nick on side he knew the rest would easily follow. Prompted by both his demanding gut and Nick’s encouraging words Phil agreed to take control and use the day as his retirement function from drink and drugs. .

By the early evening things were in full swing and Nick suggested they purchase some pills to prevent them getting too lairy. Although at first reticent, Phil found the effects of the lager, coupled with his ‘last night’ mind-set, too strong to resist, so before long Nick was on the phone.

‘That’s all sorted, shouldn’t be long either.’

Phil was excited about the impending arrival of the drugs and was anxious to know more.

‘What you getting us and who off?’

‘Pills and coke, Susie’s bringing them.’

Phil felt his heart flutter at the mention of Susie’s name. He fancied the arse off her and his infatuation had grown with the explicit stories that Nick would tell about her. Feeling emboldened by the notion of it being his final night Phil ventured;

‘Do you reckon she’ll be up for staying out?’

‘She is and she’s bringing her mate Louise who’s a right looker, and dirty with it by all accounts.’

Phil’s mind began to race with the possibilities of the night ahead and once the drugs had arrived he quickly found himself focussing on the supposedly dirty Louise. With the gear over-heightening his senses he was both wary and fascinated by her, especially when they began to indulge in the flirtatious banter that always ends up in sex. He worried that the whole evening could have been an elaborate set-up by Nick to trick him, it had even passed his mind that she could have been one of those stunning transvestites like the one that had fooled him that time in Ibiza. This notion was quickly dismissed while on their third ecstasy tablet, and chilling out in one of the dark alcoves of the club they had gone to, Phil found himself gently massaging an increasingly damp mound through her flimsy knicker material. Scarcely believing his luck he could only return Nick’s wink as he saw him getting up to leave the club with his work-mate Susie. He knew that he had to make his move or he’d always regret it. All of the signals were showing bright green lights so Phil tentatively made his move.

‘They’ve gone home Louise, do you fancy coming back to mine to do this coke in.’

Louise looked Phil straight in the eye and he almost exploded as she replied in her husky voice.

‘Why don’t we go back to mine instead where I can do you in?’

The taxi ride back saw the couple indulge in some professional heavy petting and once inside Louise’s flat she made them a cocktail. As they drank and snorted long lines of cocaine, their clothes slipped away as easily as Phil’s anxieties. He giggled inwardly at his previous notion that Louise may have been a transvestite, this was the first time Phil had enjoyed himself for ages. He knew it wasn’t love, but he could appreciate that going from his usual standards Louise was a bit special.

Gradually he became confident enough to tell her all about his figure of fun dilemma. He told her all about wanting to change his lifestyle and people’s perception of him. Louise listened intently until Phil was finished and then as she leant over and took him in her mouth he felt his whole body, mind and soul relax as one.

* * *

Phil made his way to the bar they’d arranged to meet at for the races. That night with Louise had been a watershed for him, all week he’d been a different man thanks to her kindness, support and sexual appetite.

He was also perversely happy to see that Nick’s fortunes had taken an inversely proportionate turn for the worst, after his night together with Susie they’d fallen out and she’d filed a complaint of sexual harassment against him at work, so he was now suspended pending an enquiry. As Phil approached the bar he was excited at the prospect of holding Nick up as the tragic comedy figure of the gang whilst enthralling the rest of the lads with tales of what he’d done with Louise.

Phil walked in to rapturous cheers from his friends, he was the last to arrive and guessed from his reception that Nick had already told them all about his night with Louise, probably to try and gloss over his mishap with Susie. Nick called over to Phil;

‘What you having mate? Beer or soft drinks?’

Feeling strong and confident from his liaison with Louise, Phil stayed true to his intentions from the previous week.

‘Just a coke mate.’

As Nick got the drinks in Phil turned around to speak to the lads only to see them all removing their jumpers. Underneath he could see that they all had the same t-shirt on but couldn’t make out what it was. Nick interrupted his inquisitive gaze.

‘Here’s your drink mate.’

As Phil took his drink off Nick he could see that he was also wearing the same t-shirt and, as he inspected the garment a bit closer, he could see that printed across the white cotton, in all his glory, was a picture of an unconscious Phil dressed in a green wig, stockings and suspenders. Beside him sat Louise smiling and holding in her hand what seemed like a bundle of notes and a small bottle of liquid.

While the bar erupted in laugher and the lads all slapped him on the back Phil re-evaluated his life once more. Although he was undoubtedly a figure of fun, it could have been worse, in fact it could have been a lot worse…for instance he could have decided to have given up his lifestyle and become teetotal…

‘Fuck it – give us a wrap of coke, a pint of lager and a snort of them poppers…’


© Darrell Irving 2008