For the Love of God and the Arab Rising

  Chapter Five: Ingratiating to the end. It was ten years ago my boss Tom Brule and I met whilst managing a contract for a pension house in Reigate; it went so well that when he moved on, he recommended me for my present job at the first opportunity he had to get me on board. And hence, I basically walked in the door, introduced myself, and took over the running of the contract. And believe me, he will not let me forget it, he is always on my case to play golf or meet up for a beer. Tom is a Master Mason of lodge no: 916, located in Bexleyheath, Kent. He leads the recruitment drive, and receives monies for managing its administration. His officers of the lodge are also under oath to assist the Master Mason execute any and all of his duties: which includes recruitment. So here I am, invited by Tom (yet again) for a drink after work and three of his pals, or officers of the lodge, have conveniently joined us. It is a beautiful summer evening and we are patrons of a pub in Victoria Station. Tom is his usual ingratiating self, and it’s because of his unjustified self-belief that I sometimes wonder if he is an only child, but I happen to know he has a brother. He’s about thirty years of age; so five years younger than me, very short, about five foot six, overweight and topped with a mass of dark hair. He has classic, dark, good looks; but the overall affect is a little comical as he is so short and overweight. To be honest, he is a likeable guy and I do enjoy his company; you just have to be on your toes to ensure he is not getting one over on you. The conversation flows and it is quite obvious that Tom and his companions are a tightly knitted group. The other one hundred or so patrons in the bar would never guess that each member of this group had been proposed for membership, accepted, and guided through ancient rituals that culminate in a lifetime oath of allegiance to ones brethren. They seem to be down to earth working class guys and scruffy to boot, which is in complete contrast to Tom’s smart and expensive looking business suit. So today whilst we are in the pub, I am taking it all in and generally enjoying the time out after a long day and the free beer. Its five o’clock in the evening and the place is packed with commuters. I take a good long swallow of ale and scan the bar for a quick look at any female within 10 yards. In between the gulping and gawping, I occasionally try to look interested in the conversation that ensues around me. Tottenham did this, and Chelsea did that, if only that last attempt at goal had gone in, we would be top of the league. What would your average working class guy do without our a game of football? To be honest, Tom’s ‘mates’ seem to be all right guys and I do feel quite comfortable in their company. As for joining the brotherhood, I’m not so sure; if I’m honest I cannot be bothered with it all; the big thing for me is the influence they have over each other, it is oppressive and unhealthy, to me anyway. One of Tom’s mates offers to buy me yet another pint, but I decline; having not eaten for hours and after 3 pints of their finest ale, I am feeling a little woozy to say the least. Tom persistently asks me to play golf at the weekend, but I managed to politely dodge the issue by convincing him I am busy with car repairs and a family dinner. It’s time for me to say good bye, and I head for the train. Catriona will start to wonder where I am and I do not want to quarrel and fight: I might lose! We are from different ends of the British Isles, but we met shortly after joining the Military Police and became inseparable. Working together when postings did not separate us; jogging, swimming, drinking, and making out whenever the mood took us. The pressures of military life eventually proved too much though and we decided to ‘sign off’ and set up home as civilians. When Cat was in Scotland; I took the chance to unwind and do a few things that blokes do: fishing, jogging, and of course a few visits to the pub; or sitting in front of the TV. And today my pal and close friend Jeff is coming round for a chat and a few bottles of ale out of the fridge.