The snow fell gently on the ground, not quite enough yet to make the conditions too slippery. The car park was quiet, 11am and the pub had only just opened, no one had arrived yet. When, with a roar from its open pipes, a large matt black beast of a motorcycle pulled noisily into the car park of the George tavern. As the key was turned to shut down the engine, silence reigned once again. Greg flicked the side stand down and leaned the bike almost lovingly onto it, making sure the bike was balanced, taking no chances as the floor was glistening with fresh snowflakes, he then swung his body off and walked into the bar. No one else was there, a fresh faced young barman looked up from cleaning glasses and a nervous tic appeared on his face as he surveyed the man standing in the doorway. Greg strode across the bar to the fireplace and stood in front of the fire warming himself, the barmen tentatively asked “Can I help you?” Greg turned his head, “Coffee, strong with milk and sugar. None of that latte shit.” Greg took off his long riders coat, the last melting flakes of snow dropped to the floor, he hung the coat from the corner of the mantle piece, then placed his crash helmet and gloves in front of the fire. The young barman walked over a few minutes later with Gregs coffee, placing it on the table with a small jug of milk and a sugar bowl, he went to ask Greg if he wanted anything else when a sound outside stopped him. Walking to the window he peered out across the car park, in the distance he could hear a sound, a deep droning that was coming his way. As he watched, he saw shapes appearing through the light snow flurries, motorbikes. 8 more were coming into the car park all were matte black. As he turned back towards the bar, without looking Greg spoke again. “5 more coffees and 3 teas.” The barman watched as the new bikers walked in, placing the drinks on the bar they collected them and wandered over to Greg, the helmets were all piled in front of the fire, looking like a bizarre pile of Christmas baubles. Steve the barman left them to it and went through the pub to the back room, Mick, the pubs owner was sitting in the back room smoking heavily and watching television whilst studying the racing post. He grunted as Steve called out his name, “I think you had better check out the front bar Mick, there are a load of bikers in there.” For a second Steve could have sworn that Micks back had straightened up. “What???..... How many? Shit is it that time again?” Steve was beginning to get a little worried. “9 ...but I think more are arriving... listen... I had better get back and serve them.” Steve went back into the bar, closely followed by Mick. He continued making coffee and tea as more bikers appeared. Mick spotted Greg and walked across to him. Snippets of conversation were picked up by Steves ears. “How many of em do ya reckon will be there? 50?” a voice coming from a 25 stone 6 foot 4 inch biker wafted across his hearing, turning slightly to watch, Steve heard the reply “Maybe, might be more, but we are prepared for that, the van bringing the gear should be here soon.” Sweat started to appear on Steves forehead, he felt a cold chill run down his back. This does not sound good. As he turned back to get more teas, he saw Mick slip Greg an envelope. At least 30 bikers were milling around in the bar now, some had ordered full English breakfasts and tucking into them with gusto. The atmosphere was tense and excited, more snippets assaulted Steves ears. “This is gonna be good!” “Yeah they aint got a clue we are coming!” the laughter and the obvious enthusiasm had Steve shaking. Then silence fell as a white transit pulled into the car park. With a yell most of the bikers rushed out and pulled the doors open. Whoops of delight were heard as they examined the contents. Greg walked out and quietened them down. Greg spoke with authority. “Are we all ready for this? They dont know we are coming and are going to get one hell of a surprise! Are you all with me?” A joyous roar was his reply. Greg grinned, “Then lets go and remember they know nothing about this.” As the last bike left the car park, Steve cleared up the cups and mugs. He then went back to see Mick. “Sorry mate, but no one paid for the drinks or breakfasts, I was too scared to ask.” Steve looked worried, would he lose his job? Mick looked up, “Oh, not your problem, dont worry about it, I forgot you have only been here 6 months.” Steve sighed as least his job was safe. “Mick, can I ask what is going on? A gang war or something and was that protection money you gave him?” Mick nearly choked on his tea, then started laughing “You what??? Oh I can now see how that looked. No its the Christmas toy run, the van is full of toys for the local orphanage and that was my donation. I treat them to breakfast and teas as well.....”
Posted on: Sat, 20 Dec 2014 12:04:18 +0000
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