Friday night ’ clothing: a pastel-pink long-sleeved shirt with most of the front buttons unfastened, revealing several gold chains hanging around his neck, coupled with jeans and bright white trainers. His small hands were bejewelled with three large gold sovereign rings. His short hair was scraped forward, rigid with wet-look gel. “ You got a new motor, Stu? ” Kevin questioned. Stuart knew Kevin vaguely. The were both Crown regulars. “ Yes mate, Astra GSI. It ’ s parked outside, the red one. ” Stuart gestured to the window, and Kevin stooped to look. “ Very nice, bruv. You seen my Imprezza? ” Stuart looked at Kevin. How could this little monkey afford a Subaru Imprezza? “ Nah, I ’ ve not seen that. How long you had it? ” “ Few weeks, fucking lovely motor. It ’ s outside, go and have a butchers. ” “ Yeah, we can look at yours too, eh Stuart? Car, I mean! ” Ian said.
The large group trooped outside accompanied by a few of Kevin ’ s companions, all wearing similar clothes and clutching bottles of Stella. They hovered around Stuart ’ s Astra. He opened the door, allowing his friends to sit inside and admire the interior. It was a truly impressive vehicle. Not to be outdone, Kevin started coaxing the group to the other side of the pub where his car was parked. In a similar way he opened the doors, allowing the accompanying gaggle to admire the machine. “ So, which is fastest? ” Ian asked innocently. “ Well, the Astra is quick, but this would still kick its arse. I ’ ve had it chipped, but it ’ s a faster car anyway. ” “ Like fuck! ” Stuart roared, becoming animated. “ Anyway, fuck what it says on paper. It ’ s how you drive that matters. It ’ s no good having a car like that if you can ’ t control it. ” “ What you sayin ’ ? ” It was Kevin ’ s turn to get defensive. “ Nothing, it ’ s just a motor like this needs to be driven by someone with experience to do it justice, that ’ s all. ” “ You sayin ’ I can ’ t drive? ” Kevin was angry. It was like a red rag to a bull. He couldn ’ t believe what he was hearing. Who did this Stuart cunt think he was? Dissing a man ’ s driving in front of his mates outside his pub on a Friday night. Kevin didn ’ t care that Stuart was older, bigger and had a large group of his friends with him. “ You wanna watch yer mouth, mate. ” Sam sensed a physical confrontation could be approaching. “ Just leave it. Let ’ s go inside and have a drink, ” he said calmly. “ No! This prick said I can ’ t drive! ” “ Okay, I ’ m sorry. Of course you can drive. ” Stuart ’ s extra years meant he was almost above petty arguments about who said what. It was tedious. His friends turned to walk away. “ Where you going? ” Kevin was yelling now. “ You scared? ” Stuart stopped. Although far more mature than Kevin, he couldn ’ t let a teenager accuse him of being scared. And Stuart had started it. “ Come on, ” Kevin continued. “ I ’ll race yer. I ’ ll show you who can ’ t drive! ” The idea got drunken hollers of approval from both groups of blokes, their inhibitions squashed by alcohol. “ You can ’ t let that one go, Stuart, ” Ian egged.
Stuart thought for a few seconds. “ Okay, let ’ s do it. What d ’ ya reckon? Three laps of the town centre then back here? ” “ You ’ re on. ” Neither group of friends did much to discourage them, smelling a bit of excitement. Kevin was well over the alcohol-driving limit, and Stuart would be close to it, but egos and pride were at stake.
The two groups piled into their respective friend ’ s car, the two drivers with looks of concentration etched on their faces, testosterone and adrenalin flowing. They started their engines and taxied their vehicles to the main entrance of the car park. There was enough space for two cars to sit alongside each other.
Stuart ’ s front passenger, Ian, wound his window down so he could speak to Kevin.
The large group trooped outside accompanied by a few of Kevin ’ s companions, all wearing similar clothes and clutching bottles of Stella. They hovered around Stuart ’ s Astra. He opened the door, allowing his friends to sit inside and admire the interior. It was a truly impressive vehicle. Not to be outdone, Kevin started coaxing the group to the other side of the pub where his car was parked. In a similar way he opened the doors, allowing the accompanying gaggle to admire the machine. “ So, which is fastest? ” Ian asked innocently. “ Well, the Astra is quick, but this would still kick its arse. I ’ ve had it chipped, but it ’ s a faster car anyway. ” “ Like fuck! ” Stuart roared, becoming animated. “ Anyway, fuck what it says on paper. It ’ s how you drive that matters. It ’ s no good having a car like that if you can ’ t control it. ” “ What you sayin ’ ? ” It was Kevin ’ s turn to get defensive. “ Nothing, it ’ s just a motor like this needs to be driven by someone with experience to do it justice, that ’ s all. ” “ You sayin ’ I can ’ t drive? ” Kevin was angry. It was like a red rag to a bull. He couldn ’ t believe what he was hearing. Who did this Stuart cunt think he was? Dissing a man ’ s driving in front of his mates outside his pub on a Friday night. Kevin didn ’ t care that Stuart was older, bigger and had a large group of his friends with him. “ You wanna watch yer mouth, mate. ” Sam sensed a physical confrontation could be approaching. “ Just leave it. Let ’ s go inside and have a drink, ” he said calmly. “ No! This prick said I can ’ t drive! ” “ Okay, I ’ m sorry. Of course you can drive. ” Stuart ’ s extra years meant he was almost above petty arguments about who said what. It was tedious. His friends turned to walk away. “ Where you going? ” Kevin was yelling now. “ You scared? ” Stuart stopped. Although far more mature than Kevin, he couldn ’ t let a teenager accuse him of being scared. And Stuart had started it. “ Come on, ” Kevin continued. “ I ’ll race yer. I ’ ll show you who can ’ t drive! ” The idea got drunken hollers of approval from both groups of blokes, their inhibitions squashed by alcohol. “ You can ’ t let that one go, Stuart, ” Ian egged.
Stuart thought for a few seconds. “ Okay, let ’ s do it. What d ’ ya reckon? Three laps of the town centre then back here? ” “ You ’ re on. ” Neither group of friends did much to discourage them, smelling a bit of excitement. Kevin was well over the alcohol-driving limit, and Stuart would be close to it, but egos and pride were at stake.
The two groups piled into their respective friend ’ s car, the two drivers with looks of concentration etched on their faces, testosterone and adrenalin flowing. They started their engines and taxied their vehicles to the main entrance of the car park. There was enough space for two cars to sit alongside each other.
Stuart ’ s front passenger, Ian, wound his window down so he could speak to Kevin.
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