Back The Moor
Chapters (22)
  1. Cover
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. News Cuttings (1951)
  7. 2015
  8. News Cuttings (1958–1998)
  9. James (2002)
  10. 2015
  11. Gary (2002)
  12. 2015
  13. Tom (2002)
  14. News Cuttings (1998–2015)
  15. Tim (2002)
  16. 2015
  17. 2014
  18. Matt (2002)
  19. News Cuttings (2002)
  20. 2015
  21. 1
  22. 2

‘Oh dear, what have you said to him now?’ said Tom.

‘I didn’t say anything to him! We were just having a laugh about that Emily Brown story Stevens was banging on about last night, then all of a sudden he got all pissy on me.’

‘The two of you were having a laugh about Emily Brown,’ puffed Matt, ‘or you were winding him up about her again?’

Gary shrugged and laughed. ‘Just trying to toughen him up a bit, that’s all.’

Matt wiped sweat off his forehead and didn’t say anything. Tom glanced at Matt and then looked down at the path.

‘You didn’t go too hard on him, did you Gary? He’s already knackered as it is, mate.’

Mate.

There it was. Tom’s favourite word. His little way of trying to sound casual and chummy when he was actually just talking down to you. A lot of people didn’t think Gary was very bright – he knew Tom didn’t think he was and he was pretty sure Tom and Matt joked about him when he wasn’t there, he’d bet money on it – but the truth was he just hid it well.

‘I know he’s knackered, mate,’ replied Gary. ‘I was just having a little bit of fun with him, nothing else.’

He gave Tom his best fake smile, then started to pick up his pace again. ‘Right, I’ll see you dickheads at the top.’

He was expecting them to call out something after him but they didn’t, and when he looked back over his shoulder 30 seconds later he saw the two of them standing still and looking back down the path into the mist, waiting for Tramper.

Gary felt another flare of anger. Of course they were waiting for Tramper. He wiped sweat off his forehead and hoisted his pack higher on his back, then turned around and continued up the path. He could see scattered rocks on either side of the muddy trail now, emerging out of the mist and then disappearing back into it as he strode past them. The drizzle coated his face and he closed his eyes and held out his tongue, catching the droplets.

Tom could be such a two-faced prick sometimes. He always laughed and grinned when Gary was winding James up, and then all of a sudden he’d switch and say mate and make Gary feel as if he’d done something wrong. As if he was the leader of the group, and it was him who decided when something was funny and when it wasn’t.