Page 14 of Common People

Common People Social Club

Once a month, Common People Run Club turned into Common People Social Club. They still met on Clapham Common, but instead of going for a run, they headed to the pub for a good old natter. It was the therapy part of the group that Hope had mentioned to Max when he had first joined. Hope thought it was good for them to have one day a month when they could put their physical health aside, and talk about their lives instead. It was the emotional support and the human connection they all needed. Max was surprised that Hope’s choice for a night out was the pub, given her history with alcohol, but she countered that actually being an alcoholic, it was important she went to the pub and made it a part of her life. Facing up to her demons instead of running away from them was a crucial part of who she was.

Max was nervous to see Bethan after their last interaction about her having a boyfriend. Clearly, she hadn’t been comfortable with the topic, and had disappeared quickly afterwards. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin their friendship, so hopefully she would be OK, and it was all water under the bridge. It was a warm summer’s evening, they were at a pub near Clapham Common, sitting outside in the beer garden, and Hope was holding court, discussing what she missed most about her life down under.

‘Apart from the people, probably the sun and the beaches. Yeah, defo the beaches. You know, when I used to work in the CBD—’

‘CBD?’ asked Anita.

‘Sorry, Central Business District. Like the town centre.’

‘What did you do there?’ asked Max, before he took a sip of his non-alcoholic beer.

‘I used to work for a bank. I know, not really me, eh, but I was young and didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. Anyway, after work in the summer, I’d head to Bondi, put on my cozzie and go for a dip in the sea. There’s nothing like a Sydney summer. Yeah, I really miss that.’

‘I bet you do, it sounds like bliss,’ said Bethan, and Max looked across at her, trying to catch her eye, but she didn’t return his gaze. Instead, their food arrived, more drinks were bought and they all settled in for a night of drinking, eating and talking about their lives. Max hoped for a moment alone with Bethan so they could talk, so he could apologise, and they could put whatever had happened behind them.

Max had missed nights like that. Before the accident, long pub nights with mates had been one of the mainstays of his life. From university, his relationship with Emma and life in London, Max had spent so many evenings stashed away in pubs, talking, eating and drinking his way through his early twenties, but then after his parents died, it seemed to almost simultaneously stop. He stopped going out like that and people stopped inviting him. Nights in pubs weren’t for enjoyment, to socialise, but to get drunk. To forget. They were a form of medication.

‘I spent a month in Oz in my twenties,’ said Charlie after he had taken a long pull of his pint. ‘I have literally zero memory of it, though. Beer, hostels and lots of girls.’

‘A real cultural experience then?’ replied Eve.

‘If you mean, did I have an amazing time then yeah, I did,’ replied Charlie, a broad, antagonising grin on his face, which seemed to further irritate Eve.

‘Sounds about right,’ she said pointedly, and everyone at the table took a breath, and then Joe started a conversation aboutthe Clapham Half, and everyone moved on. Although Max saw Eve give Charlie a look that said if she got the chance, she’d like to take him down a peg or two. Max understood because Charlie could be annoying, childish and he seemed on the surface at least, to be quite shallow, but perhaps there were hidden depths lurking underneath his Ralph Lauren polo shirt. Eve didn’t seem to think so, but Max saw the determination he had to run faster, the pain he was willing to go through in the cold plunge to get better, and so there was clearly something there. Some small piece of Charlie that explained everything away.

As they ate, Max tried to engage Bethan in conversation across the table, but it was difficult, too loud with other people talking and music playing, and so he knew he would have to wait. Instead, when Charlie got up to head to the bar, Max went with him. Perhaps a little time alone with Charlie and he might understand him better, and maybe he might know a thing or two about Bethan and how Max should handle the situation with her. They left the table with Anita going into great detail about all the food she was making for the weekend, and there sounded like plenty of it. She had been cooking for hours and hours in preparation for her family to come and celebrate the life of her husband. Just listening to her talking about the food, and Max could feel his mouth salivating. It all sounded incredible.

‘You all right?’ Max asked when he was standing at the bar with Charlie.

‘Top notch, old fella. Why?’

‘Oh, just you and Eve always seem to be going at it.’

‘Just bants,’ replied Charlie as they waited at the bar to be served. It was a busy night, and the bar was two deep. Max heard other accents with Australian being one of the most prominent. Max knew there was a strong Aussie contingent in Clapham, which was why maybe Hope felt so at home there. Although hearing her earlier, and seeing the expression on her face whenshe spoke about Sydney, it was clear her love for Australia was strong.

‘I’m not sure it’s all banter from her perspective, mate.’

‘Yeah, you think?’

‘I don’t know either of you well, but it seems like you two are always arguing.’

‘S’pose that’s true. Fire away, old boy. What do you want to know about me? I’m an open book.’

‘Really? An open book?’

Charlie laughed. ‘Yes, mate. I learned a long time ago that keeping things bottled up doesn’t help anyone. What do you want to know? Ask me anything.’

‘I suppose, what’s your story? When I joined the group, Bethan said that everyone had a story, even you.’

He laughed. ‘She said that, did she?’

‘She did.’

‘Well, she’s not wrong. Let’s step outside though, it’s a bit loud in here.’

Max was surprised that Charlie was being so forthcoming, but he followed him outside to the front of the pub, and they stood there for a moment, enjoying the evening sunshine. It was still summer and wouldn’t get dark for hours yet. Max enjoyed the summer evenings in London when they were like that. He turned and looked at Charlie, before he spoke, his public-school voice that was usually so confident was a little softer than usual.