A Day at the Races (Matthew and Cecil)

The early morning sun warmed the expectant faces of the passengers as they stepped from the train, the women in their expensive dresses and vertiginous heels, the men in sharp suits and crisp shirts. I scanned the throng as it wound its way along the platform towards the station exit, looking for a familiar face. It was the third train of the morning that I had stood and watched but there was no sign of the person I was waiting for. I glanced at my watch. Five past eleven. I pulled my mobile from my jacket pocket and hit the keypad.

“Ces, where are you?”

“On me way geeze, ain’t I. Where are you?”

“I am outside the pub just opposite Ascot station. What’s happening?”

“Wall to wall traffic on the bleedin’ M25.”

I let out a frustrated sigh.

“The M25? What’re you doing on the M25? You didn’t say you were driving. You’re supposed to meet me here at ten-thirty. I’ve got the tickets.”

“Mate, keep yer wig on. I ain’t drivin’. I was blaggin’ some bird weren’t I.”

“What? On the M25?”

“Not on the motorway you nobhead. In Essex. Last night. There was a pile up on the way back this morning. Whole place is gridlocked.”

I stared at my mobile in disbelief, deja-vu washing over me. There was always some sort of gridlock in Cecil’s life, especially when he was supposed to be at any event I had organised.

“So you went out last night? Great. I could’ve gone out too but I decided not to because I knew I had to be somewhere this morning. You only had to do one thing Ces... get yourself here and yet again –”

“Leave it out with the fuckin’ lecture geezer. I’ll be there. I ain’t that far behind ya.”

“So how long you gonna be?” I asked, a tiny wave of optimism daring to suggest that he might only be ten minutes or so away.

“Hour ’n a quarter. Just gettin’ to Waterloo. There’s a train at –”

“An hour and a quarter? I’m not waiting Ces. I’ve sorted the tickets and the hospitality deal and I’m not standing outside Ascot Station like some sad sack waiting on you when I could be in the enclosure enjoying a cool glass of Champagne. I’ve paid over two-hundred quid each for the package… for which you still owe me by the way and –”  

UPDATE: The above is the opening paragraphs of the fourth, as yet to be titled, Pursuit book, due to be completed in 2019.