Well, that's what she said...

“At least she’s got big bangers.”

“Who’s ‘she’ then?  The cat’s mother?”

“Oh, you know Len.  Her down the road.  Thinks herself something special like.  All tits and lipstick.  You know the one.”

I’m not sure that I do.  From what Jim tells me, the girl that’s got him riled could be any one of a number living on our street.

“So anyway,” Jim takes a gulp of his pint, “she… her from down the road.  Someone’s said that she’s up the flaming duff.  And get this, right.  This is the stupid part.  They say that our David is the father.”

“Really?  Who’s said that?”

“Dunno.  I heard it from Annie behind the bar.  She took me to one side like, at closing time.  Told me last night.  Thought I should hear it from her”

“What exactly did she tell you?”

“Summat about our David being involved with this lass from down the road and that there was going to be a baby on the way.”

“Well, not much gets past Annie.  She’s usually right about stuff.”

“Flaming hell.  Just as our David’s getting sorted, some bird goes and traps him like that.”  Jim almost spits the words out.

“Takes two to tango mate.”  I slurp my pint, hiding behind my glass, knowing that won’t go down too well.  I’m right and Jim gives me ‘that look’ that I’ve known in over thirty years of friendship to mean, ‘watch it or there’ll be a belt in the gob on its way.’

Jim’s as hard as they come.  He came out of his mother with a snarl on his face and his hands balled up in little tight fists.  That’s a good thing when you’re on the same side.  Like when an away team lands in town on match day looking for trouble and it all kicks off down the Duke of York, or when Jim’s ex missus Sandra’s new fella turns up with his cronies and starts getting nasty.  But Jim’s handy fists and ready temper aren’t so great when your view of the world doesn’t look like his.

“So what’s your David going to do then?  Marry her?”  Like that’s ever going to happen, but I ask anyway.

“You’re having a laugh aren’t you?  He hasn’t even been there.  He’d have told me if he had.”

Jim stews in his pint for the rest of the night and I slope off home with a grim feeling that things might just be about to kick off.

Janet’s doing the word search in her women’s magazine when I get home.  There’s some crappy game show on the telly that she’s not even watching.  “Everything alright down the pub Len?”  She doesn’t look up.

“Jim’s lad, David, he’s got some lass up the duff,” I tell her as I switch the channel over to the football highlights.  It’s that jug-eared pundit on again that I can’t stand, but they’re covering the United game, so I’ll put up with him.

“David?  Doesn’t sound like him.  Thought he was more sensible than that.  Who’s the lucky lady then?” Janet swings her legs round off the sofa and I sit down next to her.

“Some broad from down the road.  Jim says the one with big jugs and lots of lipstick.”

“There’s loads of them like that.”

“That’s what I said.  Jim’s not happy about it.”

“I bet not.”  Janet puts down her magazine.  I notice the headline across the front cover ‘I slept with my sister’s husband - now we’re having a baby!’.  Good god, it’s rife.

“Do you fancy fish and chips?” Janet asks, “chippy should still be open.”

“Yeah, why not.”  I chuck her a crumpled twenty from my back pocket.  Ten quid won’t cover it any more.  Have you seen the price of fish these days?  And spuds for that matter.

“Won’t be long then.”  Janet lights a fag and pulls on her shoes and raincoat, then heads out the front door.

I don’t know where they’ve started getting these pundits from on ‘Today’s Match’ but they don’t half twaddle on.  Once upon a time, they would have just talked about the game, the goals, the players’ skill.  Now they harp on about all sorts of stuff - social media, statistics, diversity, women’s football… women’s football!  I tell you, it’s not like it was, and don’t even get me started about that VAR nonsense.

I’m just shouting back at the plonker on the telly, when Janet comes back from the chippy, cursing as she shakes the rain off her coat and hangs it by the front door.  "Bloody weather," she mutters, dumping the steaming carrier bag on the table.  "That new lass in there, want’s a rocket up her backside if you ask me.  Never seen anyone so slow.  You’d think she had to go and catch the flaming fish herself!”  She unwraps the food and plonks the warm, damp package of newspaper on my lap.  “Megan, she’s called, her in the chippy, little miss slow-coach.  Anyway, she was talking about David.  You know, like you said, Jim’s David.  She said she saw him and that girl together the other week, all loved up and cosy like."

I pause mid-chip.  One eye on the telly, one on Janet.  "What girl?"

Janet rolls her eyes.  "The one with the big boobs and lipstick, Len.  Keep up."

“That’s not going to go down well if Jim hears about it.  That Megan wants to keep her trap shut.  Is there any vinegar for this?”

Janet tosses over a couple of plastic sachets - the sort I can never manage to open.

“Jim swears blind that she’s nothing to do with David.”  The sachet eventually opens, more on me than on my chips.  “But if he’s been seen out and about with her… well, someone’s not telling a straight tale.  Did Megan say anything else?"

Janet shrugs.  "Just that they seemed… you know, proper, together, a couple like.  Holding hands, that sort of thing.  Didn’t look like some drunken bit of how’s your father, put it that way."

I don’t say anything and finish my fish and chips while the pundits on the telly start a debate on whether players should know the words to the national anthem.  I’m bothered about Jim.  He won’t like this, if folk are chatting about his David and some girl.  And he’s going to find out sooner or later, and then who knows what will happen.  He’s protective of David, ever since he lost his other son Sam to drugs and that.  Jim’s a hard man, tough like, but when they found Sam, all them needles and mess, well, it nearly did him in.  Then Sandra took off, and so David’s all he’s got left.  If he thinks someone’s taking the piss, even if it’s just some lass, then he won’t like it.  But if David and this girl are actually a thing, then that’s a whole different kettle of fish.

The next night at the pub, Jim’s already in his usual spot at the bar, nursing a pint.  I slide in next to him.  "How’s it going?"

He grunts. "Been better."

"What’s up?"

"Apparently that bloody lass has been flapping her gob off again.  Banging on about the baby and all that.  And now Annie here, she says that David’s been in here with her.  All lovey-dovey like."

“Have you not seen David?  Had a word with him?  Find out what’s going on?”

Jim rubs his face, pondering a moment.  Words aren’t really his thing.  They’re not mine either, but he’s worse than me.  “You know how it is.  Talking and that.  Sandra used to do all that sort of thing.  Till she took off.”  He takes a gulp of beer.

I hesitate, then risk it.  "Our Janet said David and that girl were seen out together.  You know, like, together-together.  Holding hands and that."

Jim goes quiet for a moment, like reality is just beginning to get through his thick skin.  "Where’s she heard that then?"

"Some girl called Megan at the chippy."

"Bloody hell." He exhales hard through his nose, like a bull about to charge. "Looks like I’m going to be a granddad whether I like it or not.  David’s never even mentioned anything about her."

I don’t know what to say to that.  I get why David might not have said anything.  Jim’s my mate and all that, but he can be an awkward bugger when he wants.  Not exactly sweetness and light.  And to make it worse, he’s only just got used to life the way it is now, since Sam died and Sandra left.  Having a sprog on the scene is going to get some getting used to.

We get another round in and follow the routine of usual conversation - the state of the government, price of beer, last night’s football.  We’re just getting onto the finer points of the local council dustbin collections, or lack of them, when we’re joined at the bar.  It’s David.

"Alright Dad.  Can I get you a pint?"

Jim straightens up on his bar stool, keeps his eyes straight ahead. "Go on then."

David glances at me, then back to his dad.  "I want you to meet someone dad."

“Meet who?” Jim’s still staring in the direction of the optics, he’s not even looked at David yet.

“Over in the snug dad.  Come on, bring your pint.”  David nods at me.  “Won’t be long Len.”

Jim looks at me and winces.  I can feel the angst oozing out of him.  Like he gets when United are three down at half time.  I get the awful feeling that this isn’t going to go well.  No one likes bad news, but Jim, well, let’s just say it won’t be pretty, even good news is hard work with Jim.  He stays firmly planted on his bar stool, like a kid who doesn’t want to go and see the headmaster when he’s in bother.  I give him a nod of encouragement.  He slides down, hesitates, then follows after David.

I stay put with my pint as Jim and David go through to the snug.  Through the other side of the bar I can see them sit down by the far window.  There’s someone else at the table but they’ve got their back to me so I can’t make out who it is, but given the long auburn hair, I’m guessing it’s the lass that all this commotion’s been about.

“Do you want another one in there?”  Annie, sporting her ample cleavage, adorned with the fanciest ‘gold’ and leopard print that the local market has to offer, struts down to my end of the bar.

“Go on then, you’ve twisted my arm.”

“That’s her isn’t it?  That lass through in the snug.  The one who’s, you know, having David’s kid?”  Annie, subtle as ever.

“No idea, but I reckon it must be.”  She passes me another pint but I don’t indulge her any further.  “Put it on my tab will you Annie?”

  Through the gap in the bar, I can see Jim and David in the snug.  David is talking, then he smiles a bit, but not completely, almost like he’s hoping for something but isn’t sure what’s going to happen.  Then Jim looks down at the floor for a moment, shakes his head, turns away and looks out of the window, rubbing his big face with his big hand.  When he turns his head back I’m not sure what the expression that he’s wearing means.  It’s a new one that I’ve not seen on him before.  Like a mix of anger, or is it acceptance, worry perhaps?  But there’s a sort of smile.  Not a grin or anything like that.  Just a sort of smile.  Whether it’s a good smile or not I really can’t tell.

A few more minutes pass and then Jim returns to the bar.  He sits back down and drains his pint in one.  The rings of foam still clinging to the sides of the empty glass, he puts it down on the bar with a thud.  “Another one in there Annie please.  And one for Len.”

We stay quiet while Annie pulls the pints.  I can tell that she’s wanting to linger and find out the latest tittle-tattle on David.  That’s what she thrives on.  Like it’s some sort of fuel that keeps her going.  We wait, until finally another punter at the other end of the bar calls for Annie’s attention.  She struts off, obviously disappointed, having failed to catch of any juicy nuggets of gossip.

"Well?" I prompt.

Jim looks at his beer, then at me.  A sort of exasperation across his face, like he’s been defeated or something.  It doesn’t look like Jim anyway.

“Our David’s got himself a new bird.  Girlfriend like.”  He notions towards the snug where I can still see David sat with the auburn haired girl.

“Her through there?”

“Yeah, that’s her.  Jenny, she’s called.”

“Nice name.  So what’s she like?”

“Seems alright actually.  She’s a midwife down at the general hospital.”

“Well, that’ll come in handy.”

"Hmm, that’s the thing you see.” Jim looks, what, embarrassed?  Relieved?  It’s difficult to tell.

“What’s the thing?”

“Turns out, she’s not up the duff at all."

“Right…”  The atmosphere’s just lightened, even if Jim still doesn’t look any happier.  Nonetheless, I think I’m relieved for all of us.  David, Jim and me.  “So it’s someone else then, having a kid?  Nothing to do with this Jenny lass… or David?"

"Nobody’s having a kid.  The whole thing was a load of bollocks.  Someone..." Jim pauses and looks over in Annie’s direction, like he just trod in something.   “Someone not a million miles away,” he looks back at me, raising his voice slightly, “has got the wrong end of the stick.  Just ‘cos she delivers bloody bairns doesn’t mean she’s having one herself!”

“Flaming hell!  Talk about the rumour mill getting it wrong.”

“Yeah, too bloody right.”  Jim flashes his best angry face in Annie’s direction.

“That’ll be a relief… not a granddad yet then?”

“No, but I look like a right tosser don’t I.”

“I wouldn't stress yourself about that!” I dare to wink.  He doesn’t seem to get my subtle point so I carry on.  “Anyway, they’ll have something else to gossip about before the week’s out.”

“Aye, if Annie’s got anything to do with it.”

“She means right enough.  You know how she is.  So, will it be wedding bells any time soon then?”  I duck my head, knowing I’m pushing it.  Jim’s mood is only just about lightened enough for a bit of banter.

“I bloody well hope not.  But well, David knows what he’s doing.  And to be fair, she seems like a decent enough sort.  Nice clothes, good job, being a midwife and all that.”

“That’s good.”

“Do you know what pisses me off though?  He’s been seeing this Jenny for ages, but he’s only just told me.”

“Maybe he was worried about how you’d react.  I know you think a lot of that lad.”  I risk it.  A few pints can make you bolder.  “You can be a bit, you know, over protective.”

Jim looks at me hard for a moment.  I’m wondering what will come next.

"He reckons that he...” Jim stalls, lost for the right words, “you know what I mean, he, erm, really likes her.  Says he’s been seeing her proper like.  Just didn’t know how to tell me ‘cos he thought I’d react like a dickhead."

“And of course that would never happen," I smirk.

Jim snorts. "The lad’s made his choice.  Suppose I’ll have to get used to it."  He takes another sip of his pint, then mutters, almost to himself, "Bloody women,  nothing but trouble.  But he’ll have it to put up with.”

I try to lighten things up a bit.  Not let Jim get all maudlin again.  “It’ll be alright mate.  David’s a good lad and maybe a girlfriend is what he needs.”

Jim looks at me and smirks, “Yeah.  Perhaps you’re right.  And anyway, it’s not all bad.”

“Enlighten me Jim…”

He grins.  A schoolboy grin cracks across the face of the cantankerous old sod.  “At least she’s got big bangers."