The Iceman. Jeff Edwards

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The Iceman - Jeff  Edwards


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heavens. I couldn’t stand seeing you go back after what you’ve told me you’ve already been through.’

      We continued to walk and he placed his arm protectively around my shoulders.

      ‘I don’t know what I am going to do with the rest of my life,’ he continued, ‘but it won’t involve weapons of any sort. That part of my life is behind me. I swear.’

      ‘Is that why you looked strange when we drove through Aldershot?’

      Tom nodded.

      ‘Then we need to get away from there as well. We need to make a clean start somewhere else.’

      ‘I couldn’t agree more,’ he nodded. ‘I suspect there’s a lot to be said for a dull life and I mean to find out if that’s true.’

      Having unburdened himself, I could see that Tom was feeling much better.

      We left the beach and slowly made our way back to our hotel through the maze of narrow alleyways that led down to the waterfront. The area comprised the most ancient part of the city and I peered into the small shop windows as we went, studying the merchandise on offer and hoping to spot a bargain or two.

      As we passed a dingy antique shop I spotted an unusual object and pulled Tom into the gloomy interior so that I could study it further.

      Resting on a cluttered table was what appeared to be a thin case made of hand tooled leather. I ran my hand over its exterior and felt the warmth of the hide beneath my fingers and traced the intricate geometric shapes embossed on its sides.

      ‘Very nice,’ said the shop’s owner from behind his counter. ‘Very old. Very nice.’

      ‘What is it?’ Tom asked.

      ‘Backgammon,’ smiled the old man. ‘Open it.’

      I did so and found that once unlatched the case opened flat, exposing the game board on the inside of each lid. Each end of the case was divided into a slot which contained the gaming pieces as well as two pairs of die which matched the colours of the pieces. A fifth die with numbers on its faces instead of the usual spots confused me while two narrow shaking cups completed the set.

      I had heard of the game but never seen it played and the look of the board completely mystified me. How could you possibly play a game on such a strange board? I asked myself.

      ‘You know backgammon?’ asked the shop’s owner.

      I shook my head, ‘No’.

      ‘I learned to play a little in Iraq,’ said Tom. ‘Would you like me to teach you?’

      I was totally intrigued by the strange-looking board and its pieces and curious to find out how it all came together into a game. ‘How much is the set?’ I asked.

      When the owner named the price I baulked at the amount, but Tom was unfazed. He took out his wallet and presented his credit card without a qualm.

      Outside, with the beautiful case now under my arm I chastised Tom for not trying to bargain for a better price on the set.

      He smiled back at me. ‘It was worth the extra to see the smile on your face. Besides, now I won’t have enough left over to buy you that horrible souvenir sombrero that you were looking at earlier.’

      Back in our hotel room Tom explained the relatively simple rules of the game and showed me how the pieces were set out for the game to begin.

      Then Tom had me throw my pair of die and explained how that throw could best be used, telling me what was likely to occur if I left a piece exposed and the ramifications of having it knocked off the board and being forced to begin its trip from the start again.

      After a shaky beginning I began to see that, although it looked nothing like the game of checkers, it did have many similarities to that game and I was able to get into the rhythm of the play. The doubling dice was beyond my novice abilities and we ignored that aspect of the game for the time being.

      ‘It’s not as though we’ll be playing for millions of pounds,’ Tom laughed.

      ‘But I don’t see why we can’t play for some sort of a reward,’ I replied with a twinkle in my eye as I threw my die and sent one of his exposed pieces back to the start.

      ‘Bitch!’ He laughed. ‘I’ll make you pay for that.’

      ‘Promises, promises.’ I grinned cheekily.

      Despite the fact that our futures were now completely up in the air we spent the next few days enjoying the sea, the sun and playing backgammon with breaks for lovemaking in between.

      Over the backgammon board and with bottles of wine to keep us lubricated in the heat, we casually considered where our future might lie and threw possible options at one another. It may have been the atmosphere or the holiday surroundings, but many of these plans seem to involve food, drinking and bars. Ultimately we both knew that in the cold, hard light of reality most of these plans were totally unrealistic.

      Money was not an immediate problem as we had Tom’s pension from the army as well as his earnings for the Iraq contract. The company had even made good on Tom’s share of the bonus for his ill-fated final mission.

      There was certainly enough savings in our accounts to make sure that whatever path we chose would be one we could afford to think long and hard about.

      Suntanned and revitalised, we returned home and collected our car before heading to my parents’ farm outside Henswytch.

      There we were greeted by a son who had spent the week being indulged by his grandparents and in whose eyes could do no wrong. I knew that I would be in for a long period of tantrums before their spoiling of him could be reversed.

      Hand in hand and with Jason planted firmly on his father’s shoulders we were taken on a tour of the farm with Jason pointing excitedly to the animals and attempting to make the sounds to correspond with each. Tom brayed, mooed and clucked along with him and we all had a wonderful time.

      Still, for all his mooing and braying Tom was reluctant to actually come in physical contact with these beasts of the field and I knew that my man, coming as he did from the slums of Liverpool, would never wish to take on the mantle of farmer. I mentally crossed that career path off my list of future options.

      But there was something else that did occur to me and I believed that now was as good a time as any for me to pursue that option.

      ‘It’s Tuesday, isn’t it?’

      Tom looked at me. ‘Of course it is.’

      ‘Do you mind if I leave you and Jason here for the moment? I need to go into the village. I won’t be long.’

      ‘Going to catch up with an old lover, are you?’

      ‘Something like that,’ I laughed.

      ‘Okay, but make sure you come back. I don’t like the way that ram over there is eyeing me off.’

      I kissed him lightly on the cheek. ‘Don’t fret. I’m not about to run off and leave you at the mercy of my father’s livestock. I’ll be back shortly.’

      ‘You’re not going to tell me what this is all about?’

      ‘It’s a surprise.’ I grinned. ‘It may not work out, so I’d prefer not to tell you right now. Trust me.’

      Leaving my nonplussed husband to be cross-examined by my mother, I drove out of the farm and headed toward the village, but instead of stopping there I continued on and followed the river bank until I reached the rowing club.

      Henswytch Rowing Club’s clubhouse had changed a great deal since its early days. The growing number of visitors and members had meant that the original building had undergone several extensions over the years. Each new part seemed to represent the era in which it had been added, giving the whole building a rambling, ramshackle appearance. The boathouse had doubled in size as well, but in this case the design had remained basically


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