**”Tommy and Billy – Friends Forever”**
Billy was sorting out work matters with his colleagues in his office when his phone buzzed on the desk. He was about to dismiss the call, but then he saw the name of his old schoolmate flash across the screen.
“Excuse me,” he muttered to his colleagues, grabbing the phone and stepping out into the hallway.
“Yeah?” he answered cautiously.
He hadn’t spoken to Tommy in years—fifteen, at least. He hadn’t even realised his number was still saved, after so many upgrades and replacements.
“Billy? Is that really you? It’s Tommy! Thought you’d have changed your number by now—couldn’t believe it when you picked up!” The voice on the other end burst with warmth.
“Hey, Tommy. How’ve you been?” Billy replied mechanically, still processing the surprise. But Tommy either didn’t notice or didn’t care, continuing brightly:
“Brilliant! I’m in London. Listen, I know it’s the middle of the workday—probably awful timing—but any chance we could grab a pint? It’s been forever. Who knows when we’ll get another chance?”
“Bit tied up right now, mate. Can swing by in an hour, though. Where are you? Bloody hell, good to hear you,” Billy said, his voice softening.
“Train station—Euston. Out front.”
“Stay put, right? Don’t wander off,” Billy said before hanging up and returning to the meeting.
He went through the motions, nodding along to the discussion, but his mind was stuck on Tommy. Fifteen years. Not a word since he’d left their hometown for uni.
Parking his car, Billy strode toward the station entrance, scanning the crowds.
“Billy!” A grinning bloke weaved toward him—Tommy, unmistakably, though it took a second to reconcile this broader, weathered face with the lanky teenager in his memories. They paused, sizing each other up, then shook hands before pulling into a firm hug without even thinking.
“Billy…”
“Tommy…”
“Can’t believe it’s you,” Tommy said, clapping him on the back. “Look at you, proper businessman now. Knew you’d make it big. Place is too loud—fancy a pub?”
“Sure,” Billy nodded. “I’ve got the car. There’s a decent spot nearby. Business trip?”
“Brought my mother-in-law for surgery. Hip’s gone, barely walks. NHS wait was brutal. Bloody hell—this yours?” Tommy gaped at the sleek Range Rover.
“All mine,” Billy smirked, enjoying the reaction.
Tommy whistled as Billy merged into traffic, then turned down a side street and parked outside a cosy, dimly lit pub. The quiet was a relief after the station’s chaos.
“Finally, can hear myself think. Sit, spill the beans.” But before they could, a waitress appeared.
“Black coffee for me. And for my mate—” Billy glanced at Tommy.
“Same,” Tommy said hastily.
“Get him the full English, coffee, and a slice of Victoria sponge.”
The waitress left.
“Don’t give me that look. You’ve got a train later—bet you skipped breakfast.”
“Spot on. Took Mum three hours to get to the hospital. Barely walks… I’ll pay, though.”
Billy didn’t answer.
“Not after a handout, yeah? NHS covered the surgery. Just… wanted to see you. Dialled on a whim—didn’t think you’d still have the number,” Tommy repeated.
“I get it. So, how’s life? Married?”
“Yeah. Two kids—Jack’s eleven, little Emily’s seven, just finishing Year Two. Took over my father-in-law’s garage when he passed. Lizzie’ll lose it when I tell her I saw you.”
“Which Lizzie?” Billy frowned. “Wait—you married her?”
“Remember? She was mad for you back in school. Proper stalker,” Tommy laughed. “We used to bolt at the bell to avoid her. Always fancied her, though. Never knew, did you? When you left, she was gutted—wanted to chase you to London. Her mum put a stop to that. Then we got together. Funny how life works, eh? Beat you to it there, at least. And you? Ring says married.”
“Yeah. No kids, though.”
“Right. Where you working these days?”
“Corporate. Head of sales.”
“Blimey. London pad, flash motor… You’re miles ahead of the rest of us,” Tommy said approvingly.
Billy gave a modest smile.
“Remember that time we bunked off to go fishing? Told our parents we were hiking to the Highlands? Got proper bollocked for that—couldn’t sit for a week…”
“Or when we nearly torched your dad’s shed?” Billy cut in.
“Those were the days.” Tommy’s expression dimmed. “Always knew you’d go far.”
“Don’t envy me,” Billy said.
“Not much, anyway. Nah, no complaints. Got the old man’s Vauxhall running like new. Lizzie’s a gem, the kids… I’d do anything for ’em. Honestly, life’s good. And you?”
“Me?” Billy blinked.
“London job, fancy car, money. You happy?” Tommy’s tone turned serious.
“Dunno. Never thought about it. What’s your point?”
“Come off it. You get it. We’re from different worlds now. Look at you—suit, watch… Don’t even know what to say to you anymore.”
“Tommy, stop. I’m chuffed to see you,” Billy insisted.
“Chuffed, eh? Then why’d you never call? Just vanished,” Tommy said, a hint of hurt creeping in.
“You didn’t either,” Billy shot back.
“Too proud, the both of us,” Tommy sighed. “Ah, forget it. You’ve done well—earned it, too.”
“Aye.”
“Wife at least pretty?” Tommy lightened.
Billy thought of Sophie—sleek, fashionable, flawless.
“Stunning…”
The waitress returned with their order, the smell of coffee and fried food filling the air. Tommy dug in ravenously while Billy sipped his drink, studying his friend—jeans, unbuttoned shirt, curls greying at the temples. Suddenly, his own polished attire felt obnoxious.
“If you ever need help, just say,” Billy offered, setting his cup down.
“You offering me cash?” Tommy’s voice turned cold.
“Why not help an old mate?”
Tommy set his fork down slowly, eyes hard.
“You’ve gone proper posh, Billy. Sorry. Tossing money at me. Christ. Thought I’d see my old friend. Ever miss home? Know you moved your mum down here. But ever just… go back? Walk the streets, see the lads, breathe proper air? This place reeks of exhaust.”
“Come visit me. Seriously. We’ll fish, have a barbecue, pints. Bring the wife. Lizzie won’t mind—she’s mad for me. Really, come.” The old Tommy was back, just older.
“Maybe I will. Dunno about Sophie, but I’ll think on it.”
Plates emptied, coffees gone, stories exchanged. A pause settled.
“Dragged you out of work—sorry,” Tommy mumbled.
“Don’t be daft. Good seeing you. Life here… it’s a sprint. One misstep, you’re out. Got caught up, forgot things. You said you’re happy. I always wanted to prove myself, climb higher. And I have—worked for it. But the last time I was really happy? Back there. Thought money, a London postcode, a flash car—that was it. Turns out I’m still climbing. That bench—the carving still there?”
“By the school? Yeah.”
Years ago, they’d scratched into the wood: *Tommy and Billy – Friends Forever*.
“They paint it every year, but you can still see it. Suppose you’ve got to get back to work? Keep clock-watching. I should head off too. Lizzie’s waiting.”
The bill came. Billy saw Tommy’s face tighten at the total but said nothing, not wanting to offend.
He drove Tommy back to the station. They sat in the car, lingering before goodbye. Tommy promised to wait for his visit, waved, and disappeared into the crowd, shoulders hunched under the weight of his bag. Billy watched him go, then pulled away, heading back to the office.
At home, he knew instantly Sophie wasn’t there. Pouring himself a whisky, he stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, the sprawling city blinking back at him—neon, headlights, endless motion. He was part of the machine.
He remembered meeting Sophie—broke, walking everywhere to save Tube fare. They’d wandered for hours, dreaming aloud. Then marriage, the first car, the grind. Meetings, schmoozing, networking. She’d started her PR firm—with his help, ofThey agreed to visit Tommy next weekend, and as Billy finally fell asleep, he dreamt of fish struggling on a line—neither hooked nor free, just suspended in the quiet dark.
