Yaxley Farcett burst in through the door of The Skaters Run. Fifteen pairs of eyes turned round to see who the noisy latecomer was as Johnny Swift punched the air and shouted, 'Come on The 'Toon !!'. Closely following Farcett was Fiona Morgan, who appeared to be carrying an item of underwear with her. As Yaxley rushed to the bar and leaned his back up against it, Fiona rushed by him and headed in the 
direction of the ladies toilet. Johnny Swift slapped the the young detective on the back and boomed, 'Good man. I'm glad you've made it for the footie, although I didn't think you would after the state you were in last night'. Yaxley smiled. It was true. Although it was now only three o'clock on Saturday he felt like a beer. Nothing surprising there, but considering that he had been projectile vomiting at Midnight and had taken a lifelong vow of abstinence at eight o'clock that morning it did seem rather strange. Johnny Swift lovingly drew a pint of Threaknecks and thumped it onto the bar in front of Farcett. 'That's on Brian' he announced and turned his eyes back to the television 
again. The Skaters Run was a keen 'Sportsman's' pub. Armchair sportsman, that is. So, whenever a big sporting event occurred, Johnny would hire a large television to put up in the corner of the lounge. Of course it was just an excuse to open all afternoon and sell more beer, but the locals did enjoy the ambience of a good 'sporting' afternoon, getting slowly drunk as the match/competition in front of them took on less and less importance. Clunch Parsons had been known to stagger from the pub at six o'clock on a Cup Final day without even knowing which teams had been involved, much less the score.
again. The Skaters Run was a keen 'Sportsman's' pub. Armchair sportsman, that is. So, whenever a big sporting event occurred, Johnny would hire a large television to put up in the corner of the lounge. Of course it was just an excuse to open all afternoon and sell more beer, but the locals did enjoy the ambience of a good 'sporting' afternoon, getting slowly drunk as the match/competition in front of them took on less and less importance. Clunch Parsons had been known to stagger from the pub at six o'clock on a Cup Final day without even knowing which teams had been involved, much less the score. Fiona Morgan arrived back at Yaxley's side adjusting her straps and women's bits before accepting a half of lager. All the chairs were taken so they stayed at the bar watching the footballers through the opening ten minutes of cat and mouse. Yaxley gazed around the room, for the first time taking notice of who had stayed for the match. In front of the television sat Hummer Thompson and Clunch Parsons, both in the most comfortable chairs the pub had to offer. They had obviously staked their claims some time ago. Old Hummer was nursing a bottle of Manns and Clunch was 
quaffing on what looked like the latest in a long line of pints of Quangleroot. Over at the other end of the bar sat Fred Ricketts on a high stool. Fred caught Yaxley's eye and winked. Rickett's was sipping on a large whisky and didn't appear to be showing much interest in the match. In fact he seemed to be studying the dust particles that now shimmered away like a mini meteor storm as the afternoon sun burst through a gap in the curtains. Next to Fred Rickett's, also on a stool was Graham Trent, who true to form, was ignoring everyone. His eyes were glued to the TV 
set, almost unblinking. As the play progressed, he muttered under his breath at the players and cursed when a mistake was made.
quaffing on what looked like the latest in a long line of pints of Quangleroot. Over at the other end of the bar sat Fred Ricketts on a high stool. Fred caught Yaxley's eye and winked. Rickett's was sipping on a large whisky and didn't appear to be showing much interest in the match. In fact he seemed to be studying the dust particles that now shimmered away like a mini meteor storm as the afternoon sun burst through a gap in the curtains. Next to Fred Rickett's, also on a stool was Graham Trent, who true to form, was ignoring everyone. His eyes were glued to the TV set, almost unblinking. As the play progressed, he muttered under his breath at the players and cursed when a mistake was made. As a shot narrowly flew wide he shouted out 'Goooonnnerrrsss !!!' This confirmed Yaxley's suspicion that Trent was an ex-Londoner living in exile in The Fens. As Trent's shout filled the air, Johnny Swift responded with 'Tooon Armmmy' and the two men glared at each other. It was then that Yaxley noticed the two twenty pound notes on the bar between the two men, pinned down by Trent's gold cigarette lighter. The match obviously held more significance for those two than the neutral locals.
Sitting in the row behind Clunch and Hummer sat Brian, Darren and John Worthington. In the 
corner, to the side of the door in an alcove, sat Jak Jackson and his girlfriend Fleur. They were rolling cigarettes and appeared to be engaged in intense discussion, Jak only occasionally looking up at the screen. In front of Yaxley and Fiona were Eddie Eastman the milkman and Sergeant Stumpsfield, now off duty and in his 'casuals'. Stumpsfield's ample frame was squeezed into one of Johnny Swift's older chairs and as Stumpy shifted around to get comfortable, one of the legs of the chair gave way with a huge crack, depositing the jovial law enforcer on the carpet with a 'Buggeration !!!'. As he descended toward the ground his beer holding arm flew up in a defensive movement and there he lay, amid a mass of splintered wood and kindling with his arm held aloft in the style of The Statue of Liberty. Johnny Swift groaned and went off to fetch another, stronger, seat for Stumpy as he lay on the floor shouting 'It's all right. I didn't spill any !!!!'
corner, to the side of the door in an alcove, sat Jak Jackson and his girlfriend Fleur. They were rolling cigarettes and appeared to be engaged in intense discussion, Jak only occasionally looking up at the screen. In front of Yaxley and Fiona were Eddie Eastman the milkman and Sergeant Stumpsfield, now off duty and in his 'casuals'. Stumpsfield's ample frame was squeezed into one of Johnny Swift's older chairs and as Stumpy shifted around to get comfortable, one of the legs of the chair gave way with a huge crack, depositing the jovial law enforcer on the carpet with a 'Buggeration !!!'. As he descended toward the ground his beer holding arm flew up in a defensive movement and there he lay, amid a mass of splintered wood and kindling with his arm held aloft in the style of The Statue of Liberty. Johnny Swift groaned and went off to fetch another, stronger, seat for Stumpy as he lay on the floor shouting 'It's all right. I didn't spill any !!!!'
