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me.’
    ‘What did you say back?’
    ‘Nothing, I mean what kind of funny comeback is there to that?’
    ‘Hmm, good point. I might remember that next time my boss is giving me a hard time.’
    ‘What, you’re going to call him a “paedo”?’
    ‘Well, as you pointed out, what’s he going to say back?’
    ‘Probably “you’re fired”.’
    James seemed to be in a perpetual state of laughter but Garry could hardly blame him. ‘Why don’t you just quit and look for something else?’ his friend asked.
    ‘I don’t know. Not much out there, is there? Besides, I keep telling myself it’s going to get better. Don’t want to end up having to move back with my mum and dad. It can’t get much worse than a twenty five-year-old moving back in with his parents.’
    ‘If your mum’s anything like mine, at least you’d get your washing done for free.’
    ‘That’s one thing I guess.’
    ‘You know what you need? A girlfriend or a big story - or both.’ James stood up after downing the rest of his drink and shook his glass. ‘You want another?’
    ‘Yeah, go on. Same as usual.’
    James walked off to the bar and Garry slumped back into the seat thinking about his parents. He came from a small town just outside Ipswich, the kind of place that was great to live as a kid. All his mates lived within a few minutes of his house and there were loads of wide-open spaces to kick a ball around and get into trouble. But it was also the type of area that became decidedly duller as you got older. Everyone pretty much knew everyone else and, no matter who you were, your parents would always end up finding out anything you got up to.
    His mother’s inquisitorial technique was often as basic as, “Is there anything you would like to tell me, Garry?” It was hardly Columbo but, given the number of things some nosey neighbour could have spotted him being up to, he frequently confessed to things she had no knowledge of.
    If that wasn’t bad enough, the pubs wouldn’t serve anyone under age because they knew who everyone was. There was nowhere to go hang out or buy fast food and not even a decent cinema or bowling alley. All of that, along with the fact that none of the girls you had grown up with were now remotely interested in you, meant by the time you reached eighteen, you were desperate for a chance to get out into the real world.
    University had given him that option. Garry was at least pretty good at school, albeit lazy but he had earned the A-level grades needed to study journalism at Liverpool, which was exactly what he wanted. As with most teenagers, he had seen plenty of enormously appealing American movies about college life and thought university would provide something similar. In a way it did but only if you saw yourself as one of those anonymous kids in the back of the parties in all those films.
    He had a reasonable time living on campus, made a few good mates he was still in contact with and got a decent grade at the end of it all. He even had an on-off girlfriend for a few months, although the “off” part was definitely her choice, before becoming her permanent decision.
    Like most people about to graduate, he had left the job-hunting a tad late, although resolved pretty quickly he didn’t have any intention of returning back to his home area. Big cities were definitely for him and he had spent two years in Liverpool, somehow making a living from freelancing around and doing a bit of bar work cash-in-hand. Generally he didn’t do much of any note but then he got his big break, or so he thought.
    He responded to an advert to become a junior reporter on the Herald and miraculously didn’t mess up the interview. He even had his hair cut for the occasion, albeit not that short, but after eighteen months, he was gradually coming to the conclusion he had made a huge mistake.
    He looked over to see James still standing in line at the bar then heard his phone ringing. The number wasn’t one he was familiar with