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over. ‘We weren’t that sort of couple,’ he said swirling the remains of his lager in his glass. ‘Things were fun before, but if we’re being truthful it was signing on the dotted line that did for us in the end.’
    Phil raised an eyebrow. ‘And you carrying on with one of the barmaids had nothing to do with it?’
    ‘I’ve told you before: that was a symptom, not the cause. If she hadn’t caught me I would have caught her if I’d tried hard enough.’
    Phil turned to Reuben. Reuben and Alena had been together nearly eight years having met through old university friends of Reuben. The first time Reuben introduced Alena to the boys he warned them up front that she wasn’t just beautiful but actually ‘ stunningly beautiful’ and not to give into the temptation to stare at her like a colony of rabbits caught in her headlights. Phil assumed that Reuben was exaggerating for effect and so when he finally did meet Alena he was mentally so ill prepared for a woman so stunning that all he could do for the entire conversation was mumble.
    ‘What about you Reub?’ asked Phil. ‘You’re married. You must have had a good reason.’
    Reuben shrugged. ‘You’d think so, given that the whole thing cost the best part of eighteen grand wouldn’t you?’
    ‘But I know you proposed because Alena told Helen the whole story the week after you told everyone. Or was that her idea too?’
    ‘Look,’ sighed Reuben, ‘I don’t regret it but if we’re all being honest here then I have to say it wasn’t my idea. Alena started going on about it after we’d been together two years and although I probably would have done it under my own steam at some point, the truth is she forced the issue.’
    ‘Gun to head style?’
    ‘More veiled threats. She’s a drop dead gorgeous half-Russian girl with a degree in Economics who likes football and tiny underwear. If I hadn’t proposed she would’ve moved to London and snagged the nearest millionaire banker the second she got off the train at King’s Cross.’
    Phil turned to Spencer. ‘Come on mate, what about you? You and Emma were together ages. Surely you must have at least thought about giving the marriage thing a go?’
    ‘Why do you think she’s not around any more?’
    ‘I thought it was because you didn’t want kids?’
    ‘It was . . . in part. But the whole thing was wrapped up in a lot of other stuff too: marriage, kids, where we were going to live. The more she went on about her vision of the future the more I realised it didn’t look anything like mine.’
    Reuben laughed. ‘You have a vision of the future? You must be joking! How many times have you missed out on stuff because you never make up your mind until the last minute? Last year’s Party in the Park, that holiday we all took in Ibiza, the last time the Rams played Forest . . . the list goes on and on.’
    ‘I don’t like to be hemmed in that’s all. I like my freedom.’
    ‘And now you’ve got all the freedom you could ever wish for.’
    Degsy took a sip from his glass and then spoke up: ‘I would have married my Leah like a shot,’ he said, unprompted, of the woman who was the mother of his two kids. He and Leah had met at secondary school and been off and back on again more times than a light switch. Right now they were going through an off stage that would soon be celebrating its second anniversary.
    ‘So why didn’t you?’
    ‘I asked tons of times but she wouldn’t have me. Said I was too much of a liability.’
    ‘Should have proved her wrong, mate,’ said Spencer. ‘Birds love that sort of thing.’
    ‘I tried.’
    ‘And what? You proved her right instead?’
    Everyone around the table did the bloke wince – that universally accepted visual shorthand for: ‘That was a bit below the belt, mate.’ Chastened, Spencer held his hands aloft in admission of his overstepping the line. ‘You’re right, sorry about that Degs, okay mate?’
    Degsy nodded half-heartedly and drained his