Free Remember Remember by Alan Wade

dirty in England, a new precinct but full of ‘yoof’, cigarette ends, chewing gum and litter.”
    He walked on through the precinct to the A6 which took some negotiating, he crossed the roundabout, walked up the steps toward the police station, turned left then right and up the three steps to perhaps one of the best pubs in England. The Brown Cow.
    “Hello Jacky, a pint of bitter, please.”
    “Hi Alan, are you just back from the big city?”
    “Yep, bloody awful place, makes you appreciate the wonders of the Brown Cow and its gorgeous barmaids, he quipped as he offered Jacky a ten pound note and said, “get one yourself. Is Dave or John in?”
    “No, it’s been very quiet tonight, just the usual lot in the snug.”
    He drank a healthy slug from the pint pot and looked around. The design of the pub, put together he was told by Arthur, an ex landlord, was one of olde worlde charm with exposed beams, stone floors and fire places, with real red formica on the bar. Strange as it sounds the red formica actually didn’t look out of place. The beer was good, it was local brewed Robinson’s bitter and with the pub being just 100 yards from the brewery and frequented by the directors; Donald the landlord had motivation to keep his beers as good as a good landlord should. The Brown Cow had no one-armed bandits, no fruit machines, no juke box, no pool table, no darts board and nobody underage; in fact the general clientele all looked very much of an age. It was a beautiful pub with great beer, a good crowd and staff who could shout at you. A cursory nod to people whose faces were known; regulars but not in the same crowd and the smell of food mingled with the beer to create the atmosphere that only the good British pub had. This combined with the low buzz of noise from the people around the bar and the design of the main room, a bit like “Cheers” on the telly; a square 3 sided bar with a pit and extra lounge, made this place unique. “They don’t build ‘em like this any more,” he thought and knew he must be getting old.
    He caught Jacky’s eye, “Another pint please Jacky and take one for yourself,” he said before changing the subject, “you look tired, you need a holiday.”
    “A holiday on six pound an hour, where, bloody Blackpool for a day?” she hissed.
    “Don’t rush in Alan, slowly, slowly, he thought, then replied, “I’ve got a little treat coming up, fourteen days in Turkey for two at the Sun City resort, as much as you can eat and drink and it’s all free.”
    “Alright for some, who’s the lucky girl this time?”
    “Hardly girls these days, more like mothers.”
    “I’m a mother, can I come?” she responded.
    “What if I said yes, you’d be frightened to death.”
    “Not me, I’d jump at it like a shot, but you’d have to be gentle with me, gentle like in the next room,” she giggled.
    “I don’t think couples usually stay in separate rooms but we could have separate beds and sufficient free lager and red wine will probably keep us both incapable of performing even if we were inclined. So what do you say?”
    “Are you serious?”
    “Yeah I am and it’s all paid for. I need to meet some business people in Turkey. They will pay for flights and accommodation for two and I’ll throw in some spends for a good companion. What do you think?”
    “People will talk.”
    “Great, let them.”
    “People really will talk.”
    “How old are we? Do you really give a toss?”
    “I’ll go, I don’t know what you’re up to but I think I can cope,” she teased.
    “Thanks for that Jacky. I’ll see you tomorrow. Can you call me a taxi?” A cab was duly called and ten minutes later he downed his pint and turned to leave.
    “Good night holiday boy and bring some money for my waxing,” she shouted after him.
    “Good night love, see you tomorrow,” he responded.
    The evening air was cooler as he left the pub and climbed into the taxi. The driver asked directions after scrutinising