Not What They Were Expecting

7

‘I’ll have an ESB and a bag of crisps, I’ve just got to make this call,’ said Kam.

James turned back slightly from his position at the bar, and glanced at his friend and colleague while keeping one eye out to make sure the harried barman didn’t miss him.

‘ESB? On a school night?’ he asked.

‘Been a long day,’ said Kam bouncing on his heels. ‘Hey gorgeous, it’s me… Don’t ask – I’ll tell you later. Is she having her dinner? Yeah, great, pop her on.’

James raised a finger, but the barman, partially obscured by gleaming pipes for the beer taps, was ambushed at the other end of the long wooden bar.

‘Jimmy, I’m just going to take this outside… Hello, Hannah-Banana, are you being a good girl for mummy…?’

By the time Kam got back James had finally got served, and found a small wobbly table with two tiny stools at the back of the pub near the gents. It wasn’t ideal, but for a Holborn pub at six o’clock on a Thursday it wasn’t bad – although the proximity to the toilets did mean there was a good chance they’d have to be polite to every other sod from the office who was in there. Still, it was gloomy enough back there to be private, gave them both the chance to clock what was going on across a large section of the bar, and didn’t feel as seedy as lurking by the one-armed bandit by the Ladies.

‘Sorry about that. Ended up having a quick fag with one of the guys. Miserable bastard makes me seem like Olly Murs.’

Kam slouched down into his seat and tore into his packet of crisps, ripping the bag apart down the seam and smoothing the packet flat against the table, before repeatedly jabbing at the contents.

‘Rough day?’ James asked.

‘First week back from holiday and just all about the merger, corralling two IT teams into one vision of an integrated networked backbone at the core of our shared goal of being the best little medium-sized accountancy in the country. I don’t know if I’m supposed to get everybody to cheer and high-five after setting out that utopian vision. There was one chap with tears in his eyes, but that’s because the room we were in had a window and he’s unaccustomed to daylight. And there was some whooping, but that was this other guy’s condition which we’ve been told we have to accommodate, but also never mention. I’m supposed to be inspiring and organising this new team, and I’ve got two dozen people arguing about who’s got the worst company-issue keyboard.’

Kam paused in his rant to down a quick third of his pint of strong bitter.

‘So anything new with you?’ he asked with a soft belch.

‘Oh, you know, nothing much, still fairly quiet. Leonard is being an arse, all aloof with his additional power. Got the new Sherlock box set you’ll have to borrow when we’re done.’

‘Cool. The winner was the guy who had had all the letters worn off, by the way. With the keyboards. He has to find the Q by trial and error and mentally works out everything else from there.’

‘Sounds like an IT Jedi exercise,’ said James, before casually adding, ‘and I might need to put in for a bit of paternity leave for late August.’

Kam picked up the significance of what James said with a pint halfway to his crisp-stuffed mouth.

‘Eh? Congratulations, mate! You’re finally coming over to our side! Brilliant. Go straight home now and start storing up some sleep.’

‘Rebecca’s sleeping enough for three. She just texted she was going to stay up late and catch the end of EastEnders but then hit the hay.’