Free The Wild Heart by David Menon Page A

downstairs he put on a charm offensive that even Tony Blair would’ve been proud of. He had Simon and Anne eating out of his hand with his rugby stories and anecdotes about people he’d met in the building trade.
         ‘ He’s so hunky!’ Anne enthused when Ian went to the toilet.
         ‘ He’s so normal’ said Simon, more sagely. ‘ He’s just a normal bloke’.
         ‘ Well what did you expect?’ Mark asked ‘ I’ve never gone for the Antony Cotton type’.
         ‘ Yeah, I know’ said Simon ‘ But Ian just seems  … well more normal than usual. And I think he looks like Ross Kemp’.
         ‘ Yea, but with more hair’ said Anne. ‘ I agree the build is the same though’.
         ‘ And he sounds like that actor off Cold Feet’ Simon went on ‘ What’s his name? James Nesbitt’.
         ‘ Yea, he does’ Anne agreed.
         Mark laughed. ‘ So he looks like Ross Kemp and sounds like James Nesbitt. What more can I say?’
         Ian came back into the room and invited them all to the rugby match Worsley were playing that afternoon.
         ‘ We’d love to’ said Simon. ‘ I’m a Sale Sharks man myself though’.
         Ian grinned and waved his hand dismissively. ‘ Rugby union? Ah they’re a bunch of Nancy boys!’
         Simon, Mark, and Anne looked at each other and chorused ‘ James Nesbitt!’
         ‘ The guy off Cold Feet?’ Ian questioned ‘ You lot think I sound like him?’ He quite liked the idea. He’d always been a fan of James Nesbitt. ‘ How about that. Anyway, get yourselves down to the ground for about half one. I’ll have your tickets ready at the gate and you can see some real men’s rugby and not all that union nonsense. We usually have a few pints afterwards too so stick around for that’.
         ‘ And why don’t you come over to our place for dinner tonight, Ian?’ said Simon.
         ‘ Yea, you’d be very welcome’ said Anne.
         Ian looked at Mark who winked at him ‘ Yea’ he said ‘ I’d like that very much’.
     
    .
         They were on a high as Ian drove them from the match. The team had beaten Buxton by twelve points and were only a heartbeat away from winning the amateur league title. The mood in the clubhouse afterwards had been tremendous and the team couldn’t wait for the final game of the season. Simon and Anne had stayed for just one drink before heading off and Mark and Ian had stayed for a couple more.
         ‘ Did you enjoy yourself then?’ Ian asked.
         ‘ Too right!’ Mark enthused. ‘ It was brilliant!’
         ‘ I’ve never taken anyone to a match before’ Ian admitted.
         ‘ Never?’
         ‘ No’ said Ian who liked the possibility of normal life that was opening up before him. He liked the way it was making him feel. ‘ It’s just not something I’ve done before’.
         ‘ Why not?’
         ‘ I’ve just never wanted to’.
         They were heading down the A6 through Salford. The ground was at the more suburban end of the city near the M60 orbital motorway whilst Ian’s flat at Trinity Riverside was at the other end, just inside the invisible border with Manchester. It was a journey of about four or five miles and Ian needed to change before heading off to Simon and Anne’s place.
         ‘ We’ll need to pick up some wine too’ said Ian. ‘ I’ve got a couple of bottles of good New Zealand red at home that we could take?’.
         ‘ Sounds great’ said Mark, who didn’t want to tease anymore out of the big man. What he’d already said was enough to put a smile on Mark’s face. ‘  Anne especially likes a good red. You’ll love their place. It’s at the top of a hill and the views across the Peaks are tremendous’.
         ‘ What do they do for a living?’
         ‘ Anne works for social services in Stockport as some kind of social worker. Simon is an engineer at the