Date: Sun, 3 Feb 2008 23:14:39 +0000
From: pinkpanther2@hotmail.co.uk
Subject: 'A Warm April Saturday' chapter 24

All the usual disclaimers apply. If for some reason, you shouldn't be
reading this, then don't, okay? If you do, neither I nor Nifty will be
responsible if the bogey men catch up with you!

I've been very grateful for all the feedback that I've had in recent
weeks; it's been very encouraging. However, more is always welcome and
I never fail to reply to it. So if you have not written before, or if
you've not written for a while, please send your comments to
pinkpanther2@hotmail.co.uk and I'll reply as soon as I can.

                         CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

Things are starting to click back into place; well most of them  are.
I'm  no nearer finding a boyfriend but everything else is pretty much
back  to how it was. School's going great and Mum was chuffed to bits
when  I  told her I've been selected for the school track  team;  she
gave me the money to buy a school vest without even questioning if  I
really needed one. It's white with a black and green diagonal sash; I
can't  wait  to wear it. I've even worked out why Michael's  suddenly
cool with me not walking home with him; as soon as we get out he  hot
foots  it  over  to our old junior school so he can  walk  home  with
Rachel.  I don't go with Brad THAT often so most afternoons  it's  me
that  walks  home  on  my  own, which is no problem  as  far  as  I'm
concerned. We're learning to give each other a bit of space; I  guess
that's what mates do as they grow up.

Just  now Mr. Sheridan wanted to chat to me, more or less to tell  me
how  pleased  he was with the way I was getting it all back  together
and  that  he's  still there if I need him. It meant I  had  to  stay
behind  five  minutes or so at the start of the  lunch  break,  so  I
missed eating with the other lads, but I don't mind; it shows that he
cares. I'm on my way out of the dining hall to go and find them. Only
I  don't;  I spot Anthony instead. He grins; I nod. I went with  Brad
Monday afternoon, that's two days ago so I'm well up for it, and even
better, I've got a ready made excuse; Tom was there when Mr. Sheridan
asked me to stay behind so I doubt if the lads will even question  it
if I don't show up.

I  give  Anthony  a  thirty second start then head over  towards  the
technology block. I pass the Yardie Boys, but they don't seem  to  be
taking any notice of me, and I'm certainly not bothered about them; I
can't remember the last time they tried winding me up, it's been that
long. Anthony's waiting at the urinals; there's nobody else about.  I
head straight into one of the stalls; he follows me. We've got nearly
twenty  minutes till the bell goes; I'm going to do this in style.  I
start  to  undress  him, indicating for him to do  the  same  to  me.
Blazers ties and shirts are soon on the hook behind the door. We undo
each  others trousers; they fall down round our ankles. I take a good
look  at him. Fuck! He is so cute! I pull him into a passionate kiss,
our hard cocks grinding together. He does it okay, in fact he does it
beautifully, but there's something missing, like he's doing it `cause
it's what I want, not what he wants. Well, I guess that's not much of
a  surprise. I run my hands all over his silky-smooth back  and  down
under  his sexy white briefs, caressing his soft bum-cheeks. Wow!  He
is perfect!

"Pull my boxers down and suck me!" I whisper.

He  gets to his knees and pulls down my shorts. He moistens his  lips
and  takes  me  fully  into his mouth. He's  so  good  at  this;  the
sensations are unbelievable. I'm guessing he's had lots of  practice,
mainly  on  ones a lot bigger than mine. I run my fingers though  his
thick  blond  hair.  He  could  never  be  my  boyfriend;  we're  too
different, it just wouldn't work, but as a fuck buddy he's a good  as
I  could  hope for, at least on days when I want to be the  top.  I'm
getting far too close; I ease away from him and help him to his feet.
I  plant  another  quick  kiss on his lips and  sit  on  the  toilet,
skinning his underpants down his legs. His uncut cock seems  to  have
grown  a  little,  but  there's still not a  trace  of  hair  on  him
anywhere;  James  would have fucked him senseless  if  he'd  got  the
chance, I'm glad he never did.

I take him right into my mouth, savouring the taste and the musky boy-
smell.  I  check my watch; we've been here well over five minutes,  I
guess  I  need to speed things up a bit. I retrieve the  KY  from  my
trouser  pocket,  lube up two fingers and slip my  hand  between  his
legs.  I  quickly locate his pucker and push inside. He seems  a  bit
tighter  than usual so maybe he wasn't `busy' last night. He  strokes
my hair, letting me know how much he's enjoying it.

I  push  a second finger in, working it round to open him up. There's
definitely  more resistance than I usually meet; yeah,  that's  good,
I'm  really looking forward to this! I let him go and grin up at him.
We  quickly move into position. I line myself up, holding  him  round
the  hips, my cock nuzzling his twitching boy-hole. We both  push  at
the same time; it spears right into him.

"Oooohh!" he gasps. "Go for it, man!"

I look down to admire his beautiful body. My dick's right inside him.
I  watch  as  it slides most of the way out, all slick and  shiny.  I
pause  for a second then ram it back in. I'm off and running; there's
no  turning back now, fucking him harder, fucking him faster, spurred
on by the tightness of his hot little bum and his quiet whimpering as
he  begs  for more. I reach down and fondle his cock; it's  throbbing
like crazy.

"Wank me!" he begs.

I  do  as he says, fucking and wanking perfectly synched like it  was
what  I  was born for. His body starts to shake, his bum gripping  my
cock even tighter. I hold him fast, still fucking him relentlessly as
his  dick comes to life in my hand, three little jets of watery  boy-
cum squirting through me fingers. Fuck! I've made him cum! I'm off on
another  planet  somewhere, fucking him harder than  ever.  My  balls
churn  into action. I hang on tight as my spunk spurts over and  over
into  his hot little bum. I'm dizzy, gasping for air as badly as when
I'd  just  finished the trial race last week, and my balls feel  like
they've been put through a lemon squeezer. Fuck! That was awesome!  I
take my time, then gently pull out.

We  dress  quickly  and make our way out into the  sunshine.  Anthony
smiles at me, the most beautiful smile I've ever seen.

"That was hot, man" he tells me, "I've never cum before; I love doing
stuff with you."

"It was hot for me too, "I say, grinning back.

"Chris," he says. "There's this guy I know, yeah? He says he  was  at
the  swimming pool a few weeks back and there was this group of  kids
in the showers, one black, all the others were white. Well, when they
went  to get changed, most of them went in the cubicles, but  two  of
them  stayed  out  by the benches, a tall, slim kid with  short  dark
hair,  and a small kid. Anyway the tall kid stripped right  off,  let
the guy see everything, yeah? Only he couldn't do much `cause the kid
had all his mates with him. So a couple of weeks later and he was  at
the  pool  and  he  saw the tall kid there on his own,  yeah?  So  he
followed him to the changing room. The kid stripped right off  again,
only  this  time he got a stiffy, turned round to put his  underpants
on,  showed  the  guy his bum. He says he'd swear the  kid  had  been
fucked.  Well the kid gets dressed in a Crystal Palace top and  these
black  shorts that are sort of short and really tight, yeah? Well  he
was  sure  the kid wanted him to pick him up, but then the  kid  just
fucked  off  on his bike. He says he thinks his name was  Chris,  you
know  from hearing them all talking the first time? He wanted to know
if I knew who it was."

"You didn't say anything, did you?" I ask nervously.

"No way, man! Don't tell `em nuffing! Best way, init?"

"Yeah. I was really horny; I knew what he wanted. Then I just bottled
it, I guess."

"He's  okay;  always treats me nice, got beautiful cock on  him.  You
don't want to meet him, then?"

"No, not really."

"Suits me; get to keep him to myself, init?" he says, giving me a wry
grin.  Suddenly he looks at me very seriously. "I shouldn't be saying
this,  but  Brad told me about your mum's boyfriend; must  have  been
really bad for you when he fucked off."

"Yeah; I'm sort of over it, but it's like I don't think I could trust
a guy like that again, yeah? I guess that's why I didn't let him pick
me up." I pause for a second. "Brad told me about you too."

"Thought  he  probably had; that's okay, you're safe, init?  I  don't
listen to all the shit these guys give you; I like having sex  and  I
make good money. That's it, yeah?"

Well  I guess it is for him, but that's not what I want. He grins  at
me  again.  "Told  me he was in Falconswood during the  holiday,  you
know,  sitting on the benches near Spring Drive? Thought he  saw  you
and one of the other kids out running.

"Yeah, I saw him too."

"Well don't go hanging round there dressed in those tight shorts," he
tells me, trying to stop himself laughing. "You'll have guys like him
round you like flies round shit!"

"So d'you go there, then?" I ask.

"Used  to;  got my regulars now, init? Better that way; no chance  of
the coppers finding out who I'm meeting."

Without  me even realising we were doing it, all the time we've  been
chatting we've been walking very slowly round the building; right now
we're  back  on the playground. The Yardie Boys are still where  they
were; only now they're staring right at us. I'm not sure what's going
on, but I don't like the look of it.

                            0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It's  the  end of the day; Michael's gone off to see Rachel  and  I'm
heading  out  of school on my own, not thinking about anything  much.
Suddenly  they're there in front of me, the Yardie Boys, blocking  my
path.  Courtney saunters towards me, the other two on either side  of
him.

"So  what  would  a  kid  like you be doin', hanging  out  with  that
Anthony?" he asks. "Well, we think we know, don't we, boys?  You  see
Anthony's  a  batty boy. In fact he ain't jus' a batty  boy;  he's  a
whore,  sells his ass to anyone who'll pay him. An' the  only  reason
you'd  be hangin' out with him is `cause you're a batty boy too.  Now
ain't that right? So d'you sell your ass too batty boy?"

I stand there in silence, just staring back at him.

"You lost you're tongue, batty boy?" he sneers. "Hey boys, batty  boy
here  has lost his tongue." He pokes me in the ribs. "Well,  now  you
won't  be  dissin'  ma  man no more!" he says, jerking  his  head  in
Dalton's direction.

They turn and walk away. Dalton turns back towards me.

"Wanna suck my dick, batty boy?" he shouts.

I don't answer.

"Yardie Boys kill batty boys!" Courtney snarls, clenching a fist.

They  turn  away  again; this time they keep walking.  I  just  stand
there,  bewildered and angry. Shit! How could I have been so  stupid,
letting  them see me with Anthony like that? I knew hanging out  with
him  was a mistake, but it's done now. Everything seemed to be  going
so  well then this happens; these three idiots are going to do  their
best  to  make  my life a misery. Shit!! Well, if they think  they're
going  to  ruin everything I've worked for, they're wrong. So  what's
going to happen tomorrow? Maybe some of the other kids won't want  to
hang  out  with  me  any more; some of them might even  join  in  the
taunting  and name calling, or worse. I'm not sure how it's going  to
go, but I do know one thing; I'm in for a battle.

                            0 o 0 o 0 o 0

At  first,  it's not obvious that anything's happened, but slowly  it
becomes  clear  that  the rumours of what went on  have  been  flying
round.  It  seems  Anthony has got even more of a reputation  as  the
school  slut  than I realised. Most of the boys I know aren't  saying
anything,  but I can feel them watching me, like they're  waiting  to
see  how things work out. The one thing in my favour is that Courtney
and his gang aren't popular with most of the other kids; as long as I
don't let them get to me I might be okay. It won't be easy though.

The first two classes pass off normally, I sit with Tom the same as I
always  do, and he seems like he hasn't heard. Well, maybe he hasn't.
Now  comes  the crunch; we've got to go out to morning break.  As  we
head out onto the playground Michael comes straight across to us;  he
looks angry and upset.

"Well  you've  really done it now, haven't you?"  he  shouts  at  me,
ignoring  Tom  completely. "I knew what you  were  up  to,  all  this
bullshit  about staying behind to see this teacher and that  teacher,
and  all  the  time  you  were meeting ."  He  doesn't  complete  the
sentence.  "Well,  if  that's who you want  to  hang  out  with,"  he
continues,  "you'd better do it `cause I'm not hanging out  with  you
any more!"

He  stomps  off  to where we usually spend our breaks  together.  Tom
looks completely bewildered, like he doesn't know what to do.

"You'd better go," I say quietly. "It seems like I'm bad news at  the
moment."

He  pauses for a moment like he wants to tell me something then turns
away, trotting over to where Michael and Gareth are. I feel alone and
very  vulnerable. I'm hurt too; Michael and I have been mates for  so
long I'd thought he'd be the one person I could count on. Well, I was
wrong.  I guess in a way I've only got myself to blame, all the  lies
I've told him. Even so, it still hurts.

It  takes  me a couple of minutes to find Brad. I'm not surprised  to
find  out he already knows the whole story, like he's always a couple
of steps ahead of the game.

"Well, you can hang out with me if you want," he says casually. "It's
not a problem; better than you being on your own."

"Thanks," I say quietly.

The  Yardie  Boys  come into view. They stroll across  until  they're
right  in  front of us, just a few feet away. They stop,  Dalton  and
Courtney giving us the hard stare.

"What  are  you  looking  at, arsehole?" Brad snarls,  clenching  his
fists.

The  Yardie  Boys  say nothing and move on. I'm a  bit  taken  aback;
Brad's  in  year  nine,  but  he's not  that  much  bigger  than  me;
Courtney's  a  fraction taller than him and must be at  least  thirty
pounds heavier.

"He's  not  going  to start anything with me," Brad  says,  smirking.
"cause my brothers will kick his head in."

"So how old are they?" I ask.

"Lee's  seventeen,  Kyle's twenty," he tells me. "They're  big  guys,
nothing  like  me; they work on the building sites with  Barry.  He's
only  got  one  brother,  Marlon, the same  age  as  Lee.  His  other
brother's in jail."

"What for?"

"Dealing, weed and crack mainly."

"Oh."

"Their  dad  was  a  Yardie, you know, a proper  one,  got  done  for
smuggling  coke. Went to jail, then got sent back to Jamaica.  That's
what I heard, anyway."

It's  not  really my business, but it seems to fit. I guess it's  not
too surprising that Courtney's like he is. It doesn't make things any
easier  for me though. Alwyn appears from the direction of the  boys'
room and strolls across to us.

"Hi  Brad!" he says brightly, high-fiving him. "Didn't know  you  two
knew each other."

"Yeah, we met a while back," Brad tells him.

"Don't  worry about Courtney and them," he says looking  at  me  very
seriously. "Tossers! I fuckin' hate `em! You're all right, man!"

He  trots off to join his mates. Well, that's one kid who's all right
with me being gay, one I hadn't expected too.

                            0 o 0 o 0 o 0



Classes  are  finished  for the day and I'm off  to  afternoon  tutor
group. I've always sat with Michael, but there's no way I'm going  to
do  that now. Still it's not a problem; there are twenty seven of  us
and  thirty places. As I walk through the door, Alwyn's sitting where
he  always  does, on his own right at the front. I nod and  sit  down
next  to  him.  He grins, as if to let me know he's  happy  with  the
arrangement.

Ten minutes later the bell goes for the end of school.

"Okay lads," Mr. Sheridan says calmly. "Stand up, put the chairs onto
the tables and quietly make your way out."

We  do  as he says; we know better than to do otherwise. (Nick  Webb,
who  thinks  he's  the  class clown, ran out  one  afternoon  without
putting  his chair up. The next day he spent his whole morning  break
putting up chairs and taking them down again.) Michael hurries off to
meet Rachel without saying a word.

"Why's he being such an arsehole?" Alwyn asks.

I'm stunned; I really hadn't expected that.

"I  mean,"  he continues, "he's supposed to be your best mate,  yeah?
And  now, when you need your mates it's like he doesn't want to  know
you.  He's in most of my classes, yeah, and all he does is waste  his
time  and  make  excuses about why he hasn't done  his  homework  and
stuff. He wants to get his head sorted out!"

That's even more of a surprise; Michael's never worked very hard, but
I  hadn't realised things had got that bad. I can't say I'm surprised
to  hear Alwyn talk like that though. He's the sort of tough, down to
earth kid that doesn't take any shit. I like that.

"Yeah, well that's how it is," I say quietly. "I guess I'll just have
to get on with it."

                            0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Today  has been almost surreal. In class it's business as usual;  I'm
still  sitting  with  Tom,  who carries on like  nothing's  happened.
Outside  class  is  where I feel vulnerable.  Kids  I've  been  quite
friendly with seem to be avoiding me. Walking between classes,  there
are  snide  remarks behind my back from some kids I don't  know  that
well,  like it's some sort of a joke. I do my best not to let it  get
to  me,  but  the truth is it hurts. I spend the morning  break  with
Brad. It suits me; he's a great kid, he can even make me laugh.

It's the start of the lunch break. I'm looking round for Brad, but  I
can't  see  him. The Yardie Boys appear, looking very  smug.  They've
caught me on my own, which is obviously what they want.

"Hey, batty boy!" Courtney sneers. "We've been looking for you!"

He pokes me in the chest, pushing me back towards the corner.

"You three!" a familiar voice barks. "Come here!"

Courtney looks behind him. Nathan's standing on the far side  of  the
corridor  with  a  really big lad who plays in goal  for  the  senior
soccer team.

"I told you to come here!" Nathan snaps. "Now which bit of that don't
you understand?"

Courtney  has  a  snarl  on  his lips but  thinks  better  of  saying
anything.  The three of them go and stand in front of the two  senior
boys.  Nathan  takes Courtney's book-bag, opens it and pulls  out  an
exercise book.

"Courtney Fredericks!" he sneers, "I should have guessed! You must be
Marlon's brother!"

"Yeah,  just  uglier," the big lad says, performing the same  routine
with  the  other  two. "And these two muppets are  Dalton  Smith  and
Luther Campbell."

Nathan  writes the names down. "We don't tolerate bullies  here,"  he
tells  them. "We'll be watching you. If we see you doing that  again,
we'll  take  you  straight to Mr. Birkett, who'll put  you  on  close
supervision  for  a  week; you'll be with him or  one  of  the  other
teachers every minute of the day. You won't even be able to go for  a
shit without one of them going with you. Got it?"

"Could take them there now," the big lad suggests.

"Let's  just  see  how much sense they've got," Nathan  responds.  He
turns to the Yardie Boys. "Now piss off before I change my mind!"

They slink away; Courtney looks like thunder. Nathan comes across  to
me.

"You  okay?"  he asks. "If they're giving you problems, just  let  me
know, okay?"

"Yeah," I say quietly.

I watch as they stride off towards the sixth form common room. Nathan
might  be an arsehole, but I'm not concerned about that right now.  I
guess he's worried about what I'll say if things get out of hand.  As
it  goes,  I wouldn't grass him up no matter what happened. Whatever;
if  he  helps  to keep the Yardie Boys away from me, I couldn't  care
less.

                            0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It's  the  end of the day; Alwyn and I head straight for the changing
rooms.  After  everything  that's happened  I'm  not  really  looking
forward to this. Maybe the other kids just won't want to know me. But
I've  got to go; I've worked for this and I'm not giving it up. Tom's
already there. To my relief the atmosphere is really friendly; Andrew
and  Josh  chat with us like nothing's happened. That's pretty  weird
`cause  they  haven't  spoken to me for two days.  Courtney's  there;
he'll be running the one hundred metres with Richard Olabadu, another
kid off the soccer team.

We put on sweat-tops and training pants over our kit and make our way
outside.  There will be three age groups: minors, that's us, juniors,
that's  year  eight and year nine kids, and intermediates,  which  is
years ten and eleven. I'm surprised to find Brad's here.

"What event are you doing" I ask.

"Long  jump," he tells me. "I'm not bad; broke the year eight  record
last year. Phil Maynard's cool; he's the one teacher I really get  on
with. I'll always turn out if he asks me."

I  think  about  the muscle on his beautiful legs;  so  he's  a  long
jumper, it seems to make sense.

The  other  teams arrive and the match gets started. The first  track
event  is  the  minor boys' hurdles. Jerome wins it  and  Liam  comes
second.  It's  a perfect start. The fifteen hundred metres  comes  up
towards  the  end,  so I've got plenty of time  to  watch  the  other
events. Liam's moved on to throwing the javelin. That is amazing!  He
throws it over thirty eight metres; the next best is only twenty six.
Wow! I knew he was supposed to be good, but that was unbelievable.

Pretty soon it's time for the one hundred metres. As soon as the  gun
goes  a black kid from Wyndham Park streaks away from everyone  else,
winning  by almost twenty metres. Jerome looks good when he ran,  but
this kid's in a totally different league; I've never seen anyone  run
as  fast  as that. Courtney struggles in last, clutching the back  of
his thigh.

"The  only  thing  wrong  with him is he's  fuckin'  useless!"  Alwyn
remarks scornfully.

"D'you know the kid who won?" I ask.

"Yeah, that's Kaiden; he runs for the club; wins fuckin' everything,"
he  tells me. "He's a real good kid though, you know, not big  headed
about it."

I  stroll  over to the junior boys' long jump. Brad wins  it  easily,
jumping over five metres seventy. He's never mentioned competing  for
the  club  so  I guess he doesn't. That seems a shame;  he  could  be
really  good  if he wanted to. It's time for us to get ready.  As  we
line  up  across the track I try to size up the opposition.  The  two
boys  from Wyndham Park are wearing soccer shorts and trainers;  they
haven't  warmed up either. I'm guessing they won't be too much  of  a
problem.  The  two  Christchurch boys both have  spikes  and  running
shorts,  but I'd expected that. One of them does catch my eye though;
he's  not  that  big, a little bit taller than Alwyn, but  he  really
looks the part, and confident too. Their other runner I'm not so sure
about.

The gun goes and we're off. Tom goes straight to the front, setting a
really  strong  pace, just like he always does. After the  first  lap
we've dropped the two boys from Wyndham Park and one of the ones from
Christchurch, but the other Christchurch runner's still with  us  and
looking  very  comfortable. We complete a second lap;  the  pace  not
slackening for a moment. The four of us are still together but I  can
sense  that Alwyn's hanging on; as we run along the home straight  to
take  the bell he slips off the back. Into the final lap, Tom's doing
everything to get away from us, but we stick behind him like we  were
glued  there.  We  run along the back straight, the Christchurch  boy
moving  right  onto Tom's shoulder. As we go into the final  bend  he
sprints  past, quickly opening up a lead! Shit! I set off in pursuit,
but he's got five yards on me. We hit the home straight; he still got
five  yards. The noise of people shouting us on is unbelievable.  I'm
giving  it  everything; very slowly I start to reel  him  in.  Twenty
metres  from the line I draw level, my lungs almost bursting; I  make
one final effort and win by half a yard.

I sink down onto the ground; my head's swimming. That was even harder
than  the trial race. I know I nearly screwed it up though; I  should
never have let the kid get away from me. I'm helped to my feet by one
of the senior boys who's taking the times.

"Fantastic run! he says. "You almost broke five minutes!"

It  was five minutes nought point six; the Christchurch kid ran  five
minutes  nought point eight. We wander across to the start to collect
our  stuff. I sit on the ground next to Tom to change from spikes  to
trainers. He seems a bit disappointed; he didn't run quite as fast as
he  did  in the trial. Alwyn and Liam are heading towards us, talking
animatedly to a young guy I don't recognise.

"Chris,  Tom!" Alwyn says. "This is Mark; he coaches me at the  club;
he coaches a lot of the young runners."

"Hi  lads," he says, smiling at us. "Alwyn's told me a lot about  you
guys.  That  was a pretty impressive performance you gave out  there;
those  are  very  good  times  on grass.  I'm  hoping  you  might  be
interested  in  joining the club and running  for  us  in  the  Young
Athletes  League. We had our first match last Sunday; Alwyn  ran  the
fifteen  hundred with another boy. Alwyn's not really a track runner,
well, not yet anyway, and the other boy's just not good enough.  We'd
love to have you onboard if you're interested."

"What about the boy from Christchurch?" I asked.

"Justin?"  Mark  says,  still  smiling.  "Oh,  he  runs  for  Croydon
Harriers,  our local rivals. That's fair enough; he lives near  their
track.  He  won  the race on Sunday; he ran four fifty  eight,  which
gives you some idea of what you could run on a proper track."

"My   dad   will   take   you  and  bring  you   back,"   Liam   adds
enthusiastically.  "We can pick Tom up first  `cause  he  only  lives
round  the  corner,  then come over to yours; it's  easy,  and  we're
always back home by quarter to eight."

After  all  the shit that's been happening the past two days,  having
Alwyn and Liam actually wanting me to join their team means a lot;  I
really want to do this.

"I'll have to ask my mum," I tell him. "I've never done anything like
this before."

"I'll  have to ask as well," Tom says, "but it won't be a problem  if
I'm  going with Liam and that. Mum's always trying to get me to  join
in stuff."

"If  it's  okay you can come with us next Tuesday!" Liam  says,  eyes
sparkling. "We train Tuesdays and Thursdays."

Mark  gives  me his phone number. "Ask your mum to ring me  if  she's
worried about anything; I'll come and see her if necessary. I'm  sure
it'll be all right."

The  match is almost finished. We're winning easily in all three  age
groups, with Christchurch and Wyndham Park battling for second place.
I  set  off for home feeling better than I have since my run-in  with
the Yardie Boys. Maybe life's not so bad after all.