Beers

Knowing the phone calls were a kind of test made it easier to put up with the rest of the afternoon. So, in addition to keeping my chin up and my nose clean - as Steve had suggested - I also made sure I kept my head down.

A strange combination, when you think about it literally.

I called Jen just before the end of the day to let her know I was going out for a couple of beers after work. I'll say one thing for the effects of unconsciousness, amnesia and post-traumatic stress: Jen was cutting me a bit more slack than usual.

Anyway, I told myself as we entered the pub, I was just going to have a couple. It was a popular place for after-work drinking, and the bar was lively. Dave and Graeme from the office had decided to join us, and Steve got the first round.

As usual with Steve, he forced the pace on the first pint, as if he was a bit too eager for a drink - or keen to recoup his investment on the round.

First Graeme, and then Dave bought a round of beers and left, and I realised I was feeling a bit light-headed when it came to my shout. Taking his fresh pint from me, Steve took a big swallow, belched loudly and said "cheers, mate. What are those lightweights like, eh?"

"Mmmm. Think this'll be my last though, Steve - bit of a lightweight myself at the moment. Out of practice, see."

"Aw c'mon - I'm nearly down, here. Let me get you another, and see how you feel then. Think of it as getting back into practice. Here. Here's the money for the round. You get 'em in, I'm just going to make room."

As Steve headed towards the toilet, I leaned forward at the bar, aiming to control my slight sway as I tried to catch the barmaid's attention.

I was aware of someone at my elbow, slightly behind me. So near to my ear that it tickled, a woman's voice said, "Alan? Alan Mackie?"

I nodded.

"I know what happened to you," she continued. "If you want to know, then you need to come with me now. Just put the money on the bar, before your friend gets back, and let's go."



Story begins here.