Page 2 of Lord of the Lock

“Sorry, I just…”

“Surely you’ve played rugby in some rough places?” I asked.

Callum chuckled. “I remember when I was amateur and we played a match in Glasgow that ended after ten minutes because of player fighting. I think I lost a tooth that day. That wasrough, but it was fun.”

I remembered then that Rhys, despite only being a couple years younger than me and almost a decade younger than his boyfriend, hadn’t come up through the amateur ranks in the same Valleys shitholes that I had, or the places in Scotland that likely looked very similar to where we were sat.

“I’ll get you both a drink. Pint?” I asked. “Don’t look at me like that, Rhys. I can have a pint and not relapse.”

Never mind that the relapse had already happened. I headed to the bar and ordered three pints off the grizzled old bartender who had been behind the bar back when my friends and I had started drinking at thirteen.

I brought our pints over and set them down in front of Rhys and Callum. “What’s on the menu, then?” Rhys asked.

“Burgers,” I replied. He really was too precious for this place.

“What kind of burgers? I love burger places.”

I pointed to the scrawled whiteboard at the back of the bar. “Well you can have a burger, or a cheeseburger. If you ask nicely you might even get some sauce.”

“Oh.” Rhys looked back down at his pint and his cheeks turned red. There was a pub down the road that offered nicer fare, but it was always packed out as the only decent place in town to get a meal. Every date night, wedding party, and birthday took place at the Pont Hotel down the road.

Callum slipped his arm around Rhys, unconcerned at where we were, and kissed him on the top of his head. “Seems that rugby being a man’s sport died back when I was making my way up through the ranks, eh. All on silver platters now…”

“Piss off,” Rhys replied. “One of us has retired to nice, warm, comfy commentary boxes, and one of us still gets down and dirty in the mud. I wonder if you can figure out who…”

I laughed along with them both and looked around the pub again. The place never changed, and neither did the people. Which is why I was so taken aback when a shock of hot-pink hair entered the room.

The bright pink was attached to a little man, surely at least a foot shorter than me and skinny. He was dressed in matching denim shirt and jeans and was wearing too-big round glasses. He was frowning as his eyes darted around the room, like a herbivore checking a field for predators before darting across. He held the door open for an older man in a wheelchair I vaguely recognised and then they both headed to a table in the very far corner of the room, ages away from anyone else.

“Hello, Earth to Finn?” Rhys waved a hand in front of my face and brought me back to our table. “Something caught your eye?” he smirked.

“Nothing,” I muttered. “Anyway. Burger. Cheese. Sauce?”

“I’ll get these,” said Callum, standing up. “I know what you both like.” He walked over to the bar with his empty pint glass to order.

“And I know you like a twink,” Rhys muttered. “Do you and that guy know each other?”

I looked over to where the guy was stood at the bar. Something in my mind was firing up at the sight of him, but I had no idea if it was recognition, arousal or both. I knew most people in this town, so it was weird that I couldn’t quite place him. Especially with his bright pink hair.

He was ordering at the bar but even then his eyes were darting around the room like he was scared of something. He seemed to instinctively lean away from Callum and his bulk, and he walked quickly back to his table as soon as he’d been served his pint and a glass of water.

“Bloody hell Finn, stop looking and answer my bloody question,” Rhys said.

What question?Oh, yeah. “I don’t know him,” I said. “Though I really should…”

“Thought you were swearing off hookups whilst you were here?”

“I am, I just mean…everyone knows everyone around here. And there’s only one high school in the village, so I’m sure I should know him…he might be familiar…”

“Bloody hell, £1 a burger,” Callum interrupted. “And £3 a pint! We should come here more often.”

“We really shouldnot,” Rhys said, and I had to agree with him. It was nice to have the two of them around, but it messed with my ability to wallow in peace. A tiny little part of me wanted to be around the table with the old alcoholics and to drink myself into a stupor. Instead I forced myself to drink my pint at a glacial pace as Callum finished off a second and third and Rhys had a second. I had to prove to them I was in some kind of control.

The door to the pub opened and I heard the familiar laughter and voices of a couple of the lads from the local grassroots rugby team. Like most people around here, they had grown up in the town and had gone to the same high school, joined a rugby team and worked in similar trades. I forgot their names, as they’d played for Pandy rugby team whilst I’d played for the semi-professional Pont. Those of us who were lucky enough had gotten out in the end, gone on to bigger and better things. Maybe I was even unluckier for having come back.

Both their voices stopped abruptly and I looked up. I thought they might have spotted the three international rugby stars in their midst. But they weren’t looking at us at all. They were looking at the pink-haired man in the corner. And his fear looked like it had been ratcheted up to a whole new level.

The second they took a step towards him, I was up on my feet and ready to fight.

---