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the eye for me, or Carl as he claims. We called in for a drink but I was getting concerned as I was due to meet my girlfriend Helen in 15 minutes in the Board, light weighter and under the thumb were comments from my comrades as I contemplated the situation, and Racheal won.
We left late that night as lock-ins were common in these parts but not as funny as the sight we saw in Little Halton as we passed through, or rather past through and then reversed and stopped. The sight to the left of us was amazing, amazing in the fact we had never noticed it before, then again you don’t tend to notice anything in Halton. Little Halton is a tiny village a couple of miles from Morton and we only ever pass through going to and from the Gold, during daytime we never noticed anyone walking through there and it was always late at night when we returned so you never noticed any lights on in the houses. Tonight we did. It was one am and the lighted pub was something we never knew ever existed. Set in a row of terraced cottages the tiny house boasted one bay window and the door which was headed by a sign reading ‘The Red Lion’. We were all in high spirits, especially me after cavorting with Rachael and Carl with his drink intake of the day so we decided to see if the door was still open for orders. ‘Still serving?’ I asked the large elderly barman as we entered, he nodded his reply, God knows why he was as the clientele consisted of three coffin dodgers, one sat on a wooden bench near the window and two on a bench to the right and believe me they certainly were not the liveliest bunch I have ever encountered. I have to admit this was a strange type of pub the same size of the ground floor of any average cottage, the bar to the left in front of us and to the right it curved around in an L-shape behind and hidden from the bar where two round wooden tables with stools stood. It was the bar that most astonished me as unless you drank lager, bitter or Coke you were buggered, oh there was a bottle of malt whisky behind on the shelf though I suspect this was for the landlord’s use as he would need it running a place like this. Not much choice either, one unnamed pump of each and Coke in bottles, but where else could you get a drink at this time of the night and the prices were cheap too, so we placed our usual orders, sat at one of the tables and drank into the night.
JULY 26TH 1997 43 MANOR GARDENS, 10am
Mark had stopped in the spare room at mine last night and the three of us were now sat in the living room, Mark drinking coffee, Carl and me waiting for the off license round the corner to open due to the fact we had failed to stock up on our ‘breakfast’ the day previous. ‘Should be open by now,’ I said as I got up to get our shopping list of wine and a four pack of Tetley’ s. ‘That should do us until opening time,’ Carl stated on my return engrossed in his first can of the day, Mark just shook his head as I opened my wine, he never could understand our drinking habits. 11.4Oam and we were in The Board and obviously slipping on our time keeping. The gossip in the fuller than normal pub at this was that the bloke arrested here yesterday was up for rape and murder, I was more concerned by the fact that Helen had just walked., in and I don’t think it was for a drink. I was wrong it was a drink she wanted, my drink and over me which she promptly did adding the words; ‘YOU BASTARD!’ I was


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