New Year, Same Old Year

New Year's Eve and the more things changed the more they stayed the same.

Clive sighed. It wasn't so much a sigh of frustration as much as it was one of resignation. He knew the closing of the year would be much the same as it was every year - the same old faces with the same old forced jollity, the determined good nature of people who for 364 days of the year at best tolerated and at worst actively despised one another, the obligatory countdown to midnight followed by thirty seconds or so of incessant screeching and yelling of good wishes for the new year. 

Clive shook his head ruefully at what he knew was to come and continued to get ready. As much as he might have wanted to, there was no way he could back out now. He never could. 

Tina, his wife of nine years walked him to the door. How he'd love to be spending just one New Year's Eve with her and the kids - Claire who was now coming up to seven, and Jack who was just four - but at least he'd been able to be there for them at Christmas this year and this wasn't always the case. 

Oh, he knew he had so much to be grateful for and he wasn’t complaining, not really. Meeting Tina and settling down had been the best thing that had ever happened to him for he knew that if she hadn't come into his life and grounded him when she had then his life could have taken such a different turn and he would no doubt be seeing the new year in under very different circumstances.

Kissing Tina goodbye, he walked out into the cold night air. 

"See you later, love," he called out as he got into the taxi he'd called for earlier. "Don't wait up for me but have a good evening anyway."

Tina said nothing. She simply smiled, waved Clive on his way, and then went back inside to the warmth and to her kids.

…..

Daniel was talking to Mark and explaining why he too wasn't overly fond of New Year's Eve.

"You see," he started. "It's just like Christmas except worse. It's just a rip-off to get us out on the town and to spend a bit of dosh. We go out, we get drunk, we pretend to be happy and to like each other for a few hours, but nothing ever changes. We soon go back to being a bunch of miserable old sods but the only difference is we're now skint and we've got banging hangovers."

Mark said nothing, merely grunted. It wasn't that he necessarily disagreed with Daniel and his rather negative outlook on life in general and New Year's Eve in particular, it's just that he had heard it all before. They had had exactly the same conversation on this day a year ago, and the year before that, and, if Mark wasn't mistaken, the year before that too. They were, Mark, reasoned, almost certain to do likewise next year and as far as the eye could see ahead.

For his part, Mark had no real opinions regarding the day itself but he did recognise it as a time for taking stock of one's life. This year had been, generally speaking, not far removed from most others of recent vintage. He, Mark, had spent large swathes of it locked into a routine which would resonate with millions of men and women everywhere - wake up, go to work, eat, drink, exercise, cultivate relationships, communicate with others, sometimes argue, sometimes joke, take little pleasures where he could, and basically just survive. He was under no illusions that life for him was any better or more interesting, or worse or more difficult, than it was for the majority of people and what was more, he could see no particular cause for either optimism or alarm that the new year should be any different.

Daniel for his part was still droning on.

 "Mate, it's a con, but we have to just accept it for what it is. Anyway, have you got any resolutions for the new year?" he asked Mark, but then continued unabated without giving him the chance to respond even if he had wanted to. " I have. I have decided to try and be a bit happier this year. I mean, I know things are bleak for us all but there is not a lot we can do about that. We can at least try and cheer each other up a bit, though. What do you think?" 

Mark didn't think anything so he didn't bother responding. He merely grunted once again.

…..

Clive paid off the taxi driver and added a reasonable tip as it was New Year's Eve and he felt sorry for the man having to work when he might well have preferred to have been home with his family. He wasn't the only one, Clive reckoned.

Breathing in the cold December air he looked up at the familiar building in front of him. How much of his life had he spent here, he wondered. He made sure he had remembered to bring proof of identification with him as he knew without it he wouldn't be admitted. It wouldn't matter how old he was or how many other times he'd been here, rules were rules and nobody got in without proving they were who they said they were.

Clive straightened up and prepared himself. Again, he knew what was coming next and that the guys on the door would subject him to at least a pat-down before waving him inside. He knew them and they knew him, and as much as they would all like to forgo this particular ritual they all knew it wasn't possible.

"Evening guys," Clive offered.

"Alright, Clive, mate," came the response from one of the shaven-headed duo manning the doors.

Clive was waved in. Of course, he was. He always was.

………..

Ten seconds to midnight and the countdown was on.

Ten…..nine….eight…..seven……six…..five……four……three…..two…..

Clive braced himself. Back home Tina kissed the sleeping Claire and Jack. Mark and Daniel looked at each other.

……one…!!!!!!!

It had arrived. The new year had made it over the threshold and for just a fleeting minute or two things seemed different - more hopeful, less pessimistic, more full of possibilities somehow.

Then as suddenly as it had begun the shouting died down. The catcalling and well-wishing faded away and normality and reality set in once again.

Satisfied that the moment had passed, Clive retreated once more to the kitchen to fetch himself a cup of coffee. Halfway through his night shift, the shot of caffeine was just what he would need to get him through to morning.

Fifty metres away in cell B201 Mark bid Daniel goodnight just two minutes after wishing him a 'Happy New Year'.