Once there were 4

Once there were 4



The 2 old boys sat as usual, in the same chairs, at the same table, as they had always done for the past 40 years. Every evening they would go into the White Rabbit pub at 7-30. They would buy 2 pints of best bitter and then take to their seats. Life was routine, it fact it was a habit. Tommy and Bobby Trace were cousins. Bobby was the eldest by 2 years. Together they ran a small, local delivery company that provided them with a comfortable living.
This particular Friday evening in the White Rabbit, something was different.
Something was missing.

"His stool's been moved", said Bobby.
"Yeah, well Tosser's not here. Don't need his stool any more, does he" Tommy replied.
"Not any more he don't" Bobby sighed. "Poor old bugger"
"Such as life Bobby. All things come too pass and some of us get left behind"
They were then joined by another one of the pub's drinkers. A long time acquaintance, Freddie, "tap shoes" Stairs, an amateur ballroom dancer of some repute. Renowned locally for treading on his partners toes, with his 2 left feet. He went through a lot of partners that way.
"Evening lads, alright if I sit down?" Freddie asked, looking from Bobby then to Tommy.
"Course Freddie, you help yourself mate". said Tommy.
Freddie was a similar age too the cousins and he had been a long time friend of
Tosser's as well. In fact it had been that way for donkey's years.
"Bit quiet in here tonight lads", said Freddie, by way of breaking the ice.
"Yeah well, we haven't got your old sparring partner serenading us with 'is life story, 'ave we" said Tommy. "His cabaret act of comedy and pathos was quite popular with the illiterate"
"Don't seem the same though some 'ow, him not sittin' at the bar. I can still see 'im sittin' on 'is stool even now, poor old sod" said Bobby, taking a deep breath.
"Poor ? Nothin' poor about Tosser" said Freddie, "he 'ad more dosh than an 'edge'ogs got fleas"
"Yeah ? Well 'ow come he touched me up for a pony then last week, on Tuesday lunch time, claimed 'e was borasic, a bit short of the readies" complained Tommy.
"He owed you 25 sovs ? You're bloody lucky, he owed me a bleedin' monkey.
500 soddin' quid" wailed Bobby.
"How would Tosser owe you 500 queenies 'eh ? Answer me that then Bobby." Said an exasperated Tommy.
"Have you ever in your natural born life, seen a bookmaker who was truly skint. He could be as tight as a fishes arse'ole at times," complained Bobby. "Anyway, I had a lady on a nag at Sandown Park at 100 > 1. Well by a fluke of luck, some shenanigans at the stable and then the two equine runaways in front getting disqualified, this horse I'd backed romped home by half a length in front of a rockin' 'orse and an armchair." Tommy and Freddie both shook their heads, grunted and sighed in disbelief. "So I thought my sodding lucks in 'ere, for once the jigsaw fits together. Anyway I saw Tosser on Thursday evening and said to 'im, you owe me 500 quid. He grinned and said I should call in at 'is office in the morning."
"And?" asked Tommy and Freddie in unison.
"He was out and his teller didn't have that much money in the till and said 'e wasn't allowed too pay out more than a 200 quid in notes anyway and Tosser would leave a cheque"
"All that folding gear and you couldn't get your grubby little mitts on it. Crying shame" said Tommy.
"Absosoddinglutely. That's the day we 'ad too cross the river with those boxes of fine wines."
"And you can't swim" said Tommy.
"And we couldn't go through the tunnel coz you get claustrophobic" added Bobby
"Ok, so we went the long way round over Tower Bridge" Tommy confessed.
"Right. So I though I'd get 'im in 'ere in the evening" continued Bobby.
"And when you came in, you were too bleedin' late" said Freddie.
"Yep, as I live and breathe. We come in and dear old Tosser 'as slipped out. Departed from his mortal coil, just like that and there he lay, flat on the floor" said Tommy.
"Good job that doctor was in 'ere", said Freddie, metaphorically playing his best knowledge card.
"Hardly breathed any new life into dear old Tosser did he," said Bobby, countering Freddie's' Ten of Hearts with the King.
"Maybe not, but he got them paramedics 'ere a bit sharpish", said Tommy, dropping his Ace on Bobby's King.
"Oh yeah, and a lot of bleedin' use they were with their electronic life'omatic machine" concluded Freddie, taking the trick with a low trump.
"True. Very true" said Bobby with a touch of sadness in his voice.
"He could be a funny old bugger all the same, Course he was never the same after 'is old woman buggered off with that funeral director. She said she preferred his black hearse too Tosser's Mercedes. Said she got shown more respect. People took their hats off as they drove past," said Freddie.
"Not only that" said Tommy, winning this next trick with the Ace of Trumps. "The funeral director had been embalming Mrs. Tosser on a regular basis for a number of years"
"Who told you that?" asked Freddie.
Tommy won yet another trick with the King of Trumps. "Mrs. Funeral Director caught 'em at it in the coffin stock room. He was giving her a real seeing too. Huffin' an' puffin they were. She was lappin' it up and he was goin' all red in the face. He could 'ardly walk for a week and that's why Mrs. F.D. slung 'er 'ook and gave Mr. F.D. an open goal with Mrs. Tosser, so too speak"
"You never told me any of this," said Bobby, feeling left out. "Anyway, how do you know?"
"My old woman told me. I'm not someone that spreads gossip around Bobby you know that. What happens on the nest, stays on the nest. Except that Mrs F.D. told my Edna during a flood of tears"
"He's quite right about nests, Bobby," said Freddie. "That was my undoin'. Got in the wrong nest a couple of times"
"Never saw you as bein' a cuckoo Freddie" scoffed Tommy.
"It was when I was doin' that milk round" said Freddie, lowering his voice.
"So you kept two sets of books then, you might say" chimed in Bobby.
"Yes" coughed Freddie, sharply and then retraced his steps. "But still" he continued, "dear old Tosser went off on 'is merry way and into the wide blue yonder owing me a sodding arm and a leg."
"You're bleedin' joking. Two grand, 'ow come?" asked Tommy.
"Money for rent and utilities for the office that I let him use . He was always late paying, always 'ad an excuse. Oh I'll pay you on Saturday 'e would say," Freddie shook his head in some dismay. "Then he'd be off on a long weekend at his health spa."
"That's typical Tosser. A quick rub down with a warm towel, followed by a bottle of bubbly and several thousand quid down the Jacuzzi. Still didn't do 'im much good, did it" said Bobby, "lived on his wits, died on his bar stool"
"God rest his soul," said Tommy.
"And the taxman will 'ave all of what's left, tucked away in his rainy day slush fund," added Freddie, finally.
The three of them sat quietly, immersed in a pregnant pause, cogitating their individual losses.
Suddenly the door was thrown open and in strode a very sharp dressed man, all smiles and full of good will. "Evening friends, one and all" he boomed as he strode across the floor. Faces looked up throughout the pub.
"You're freaking well dead Tosser," snapped Freddie, whilst rapidly getting to his feet.
"No, no, no. Just a merry jape lads"
"I was at your freaking funeral at 2pm in darkest Brighton on Sea. You were dead," said Freddie, deeply angry. "Do you now what the train ticket cost and me your only mourner?"
Tosser carried on smiling, enjoying his merry jape.
"You've got a bleedin' nerve showing your boat race in 'ere," shouted Tommy.
Tosser screwed his face up in a big grin, staying center stage.
"Yeah. Dead, or alive." snapped Bobby. "You've got more bleedin' front than Brighton"
"Now, now lads. Simmer down. Do you want the good news or the brilliant news?"
"Astound us," said Bobby.
Tosser smiled gleefully and pulled out several large brown envelopes.
"I won the lottery a couple of weeks ago. I pulled in 8 million quid"
"Lying git" said Freddie, scornfully.
Tosser shook his head and still grinning, he handed out envelopes to the three creditors.
"I always pay my bills" said Tosser, "sooner or later" and handed another envelope to the barman. "See your governor gets that one and wipes my slate clean, then we'll 'ave drinks all round. Very large ones"
"That doctor and the paramedics said you'd kicked the bucket," said Bobby angrily.
"Where did they come from?" asked Tommy.
"Central Casting. You've heard of kiss-o-grams, well I hired death-o-grams"
"I saw you going into the oven at the crem. Fire and brimstone devoured you," said Freddie in his unabated haste
"Ah money will get you anywhere Freddie, even to hell and back. You just gotta be able too pay for a round trip ticket.



LE FIN