World's Apart

Old Friend

As he slumped in the corner, his back pressed against the rough fabric of the booth, Jacks finger circled the rim of his pint glass. His glazed eyes were unmoving as he stared at the glass, he was looking but not seeing, his mind lost deep in thought. He had been in the pub for the best part of the evening. Unlike his usual Sunday routine, Jack ventured away from Base and wandered several villages over before finding the 'Farmer and Pitchfork'. He'd spent several hours in the pub already. When he first arrived the pretty bar maid had struck up an innocent conversation with him but Jack had no time for anybody today.

"You're here alone?" she had questioned.

Jack had nodded as he waited for her to pour his drink.

"You're from the RAF base. You know soldiers don't usually come this far," she placed the drink down in front of him. Jack slid some coins towards her before picking up his beer.

"They do today," he nodded in her direction before finding the booth he had been sitting in since.

Farrier and some of the others had invited him to come to the local pub with them but Jack had declined their offers and instead he found himself reliving the last few hours over and over. His mind was so lost in transition that he didn't hear the voice speaking to him at first, nor did he notice when they sat opposite him.

"You look as shit as I do,"

The voice snapped Jacks head up. His hard stare was broken and his eyes looked up to meet the stranger in front of him. Jacks eyes narrow as he scrunches his brows together. The man's brown hair was shaggy with a slight curl to it; it was long enough to brush along his ears. His beard was rough and unkempt and his cheeks had a rosiness to them as though he had been out in the hot sun for too long. The mismatch of clothes he was wearing were dishevelled and illfitting. The man before him was a stranger, yet the kindness in his eyes brought about a sense of warm familiarity.

"Has it really been that long Jack? You've forgotten my face already," the mans lips curved upwards into a crooked smile.

Suddenly and all at once, a wave of realisation washed over Jack and his eyes widened.

"Charlie?"

The man nodded and reached across the table taking hold of Jacks pint glass.

"As I live and breathe!" he raised the glass towards Jack before taking several large gulps then slamming the glass down.

Jack was lost for words as he watched the man before him.

"What are you doing here?" the words were the first thing that came to his mind.

"So you've not seen me for nearly a year and the first thing you say to me is what are you doing here? What a cheerful greeting you ungrateful bastard," his tome was serious but then Charlie guffaws and slams his hand on the table laughing at Jacks expense.

It's Charlie alright, Jack thought to himself. He let a grin creep across his face as happiness consumed him at the sight of his best friend.

"Now that's more like it," Charlie picks up the pint glass again and downs the remains of the beer before holding the glass out to the passing bar maid and ordering two more pints.

"It good to see you Charlie," Jack leans across the table towards him.

Charlie stretches his arms across the back of the booth and sighs "You too old friend,"

The barmaid returns and sets the two pints on the table. Charlie nods to Jack "Be a darling Jack, buy your old mate a drink,"

Jack rolls his eyes but hands the barmaid some money. Jack pulls his glass towards him as he watches Charlie take several large gulps from his glass.