Wereham Sign Gary Trouton

The Story So Far

June 2002

The anonymous novella continues into its third chapter

Les has returned to the banks of the Stoke River, scene of so many memories. As the river wanders by so does his mind and with his past life flashing before him he is back to his teenage years.

Another day goes by, like all the others, uneventful. Les heads up to his beloved Social Club, the odd drink or so, a couple of games of Snooker. At least there's tomorrow; the match. Something tells him to check what the Selection Committee have been up to. Sometimes he's picked to play inside right, his favourite position, and other times it's inside left, once or twice it's been outside left. Call themselves a Selection Committee? They haven't a damn clue. Les has to look twice, then he still didn't believe it but he had better, my God he'd been dropped. Stan his buddy, yes he was playing but Les wasn't. That was all he needed.

'What time does the Bus go to Wereham tomorrow Stan?' he inquired, walking into the snooker room, by now in one heck of a temper. 'I shall come and support the team but as far as our Committee are concerned they can all get stuffed'. Stan tried to remember the last time he had seen his mate in such a bad mood; just because of a game of football. Stan tried to console him, 'Your trouble is you take life too seriously. Look on the bright side'. Bright side, what bright side Les thought as another day on the farm flashed through his mind.

It was a bitterly cold October afternoon as Les bordered the Bus at Methwold Rec. He was still fuming at the very thought of not being in the team. 'Oh dear who's upset you then?' Standing on the touchline at Wereham, freezing to death, he glanced in the direction of where the voice came from and then suddenly life took on a whole new meaning. 'I'm sorry I didn't see you there' said Les and suddenly the football match paled into insignificance. Yes Anne looked as frozen as he did, but there was one very big difference, he was looking at sheer class. He didn't need reminding of whom she looked like. He knew at once!

How many times had he seen that lovely face time after time at the cinema at Downham? Maybe Anne wasn't Ava Gardner, but if she wasn't she was a damn good substitute. Something he was more than happy to settle for. 'Care for a coffee?' Was he dreaming or did he hear Anne say that? 'Come on it's far too cold standing around here' and with that they were off heading back to her parents home. 'Where's your Mum and Dad?' enquired Les, not too disappointedly, as Anne invited him into the lounge where a blazing fire greeted them. 'Dad is on shift work at the sugar beet factory and Mum has gone on the Bus shopping at King's Lynn'. Handing him a warming cup of coffee she settled back into the settee. Les glanced at Anne and the thought crossed his mind that, yes football was still a wonderful game, but maybe there was more to life that just that! And, just another maybe, was he before very long soon to find out?

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