We're out shopping. There's a nice shopping centre just minutes away and we've walked down. Getting on, laughing and joking and looking from the exterior like the happiest couple around. This a mirage we perfected, especially in later years, but mostly it's real because a lot of recent tension was dissipated last night when we had a few drinks after time with Mike. JJ wanted to experiment with her first and only ever doobie experience! It was funny, we'd obviously all had a few drinks but after we had a smoke JJ just went into a trance like state and started complaining that the floor was coming towards her and back, kind of vibrating but on a massive scale! She asked me to carry her upstairs to bed and I did, in my best gentlemanly way. Put her to bed, kissed her and told her I loved her and committed right there and then to book her a ticket home today. So the mood is good and the moment is real, genuine domestic bliss for a change.
Cade stumbles and I catch him. He's got those reins on, the ones that have a handle for the parent. He looks up at me, dangling in mid air, mischief and adventure in his eyes and I lower him again carefully until he's stable on his chubby little legs to go again. What a perfect encapsulation of parenting these things are! If they wander off course you can correct them and yet there's the freedom to try and go wherever the kid wants. If they fall you have about half a second to react and save them from hitting the concrete. And only by being a good attentive parent do you achieve this face/hand/body injury saving reaction. They get used to it though and they test you by falling on purpose and pushing the boundaries of their movement. There it is in one little piece of strung together harness: catch me if I fall dad, keep me on the right track... always loved those reins!
Christian has been round with some potential buyers. I'm a bit concerned as I'd been promised at least 3-6 months and we're only 2 months into it but it's only a potential sale and he reassures me by saying it will probably be the first of many viewings. Everything has been going great, week on week growth in all 3 of my areas. Bar snacks are now being served too, nothing too flash but I've got a fryer working so I'm offering a few 'with chips' meals and some sandwiches.
The Upstairs bar is flying at weekends, Laco and Romana are both doing a great job of running and promoting it and I'm happy to leave them to it. I pop up and check on them during their busy evenings, make sure they've got everything they need and loosen their reins a bit more! The nights they have up there are fantastic though, everyone seems to have a great time and it's providing a real meeting point for the euro ex pats to get together and enjoy a bit of familiar company. Romana's food is to die for and she feeds me at every opportunity bless her.
Downstairs is where I'm focusing my efforts though and after the shopping trip I do a bar shift and introduce the idea of a pool night. Karaoke has been going well, too well if anything and we're getting rammed at the weekends. Pool would be a midweek distraction, anyone who's ever been in one of my pubs knows I love a pool night! The locals are keen and the head traveler guy Tom says he'll bring a few players in, I propose a warm up event later in the evening and leave the idea in the air. The lovely Marti comes in for her shift I head upstairs for a hard earned break, I'm not there for long though.
"Roy... Roy, I need help" is the call up the stairs to where I was just drifting into a comfortable snooze. I sit up, shake it off and head down to see what the commotion is thinking it's probably a barrel that needs changing. It's not though, it's 5 lads from the traveler site, at least that's my theory judging by the accents. They've strolled in and sat down with bottles of bud in hand and attitude turned on to a full 'fuck you'. We don't sell bud... It's a difficult one because I can sense immediately that they are here to cause trouble. I try and placate them, asking them to take the drinks outside and to feel free to use my benches. I offer this with the proviso of being welcome to come back when they want to purchase a beer from the bar. But it’s a no go and they start prowling the bar whilst hurling abuse.
It’s not going to end well so I send Marti away, telling her to call the police from the kitchen and stay out out of sight but she’s worried about me seeing me worry about them and how this was all unfolding. It’s futile calling the police in situations like this, always done and dusted by the time they arrive but Marti doesn’t know this, and hopefully neither do the boys. My relationship with the travelers is on the line now as well. There’s not many places that accept them, let alone welcome them so the whole altercation is full of ramifications.
The head boy is stalking while he’s talking, I can see his hand has gone to his pocket and I’m worried about a blade as he seeks his opening to attack. Liams' bloody comeuppance is fresh in my mind and I really don’t want to add my blood to the these well worn walls. The boys had started off in the lounge but they’re now in the bar, heading for the far end of the staple and presuming an entry point. Luckily there isn’t one but they keep goading me to come out and talk to them, I refuse and continue my tactic of calm discussion, reasonable compromise and constant reminders that the police have been called. I'm usually pretty good in these circumstances, dealing with dickheads and aggro, probably because I've spent time being the dickhead and the aggro!! Could of definitely of done with Cades' reins at certain stages of my life...
The back and forth goes on for what seems like an eternity, adrenaline flows through me and I’m as ready as I can be to react but the lad is lightning quick when his hand finally comes out of his pocket and his aim is, to be fair, outstanding. It’s not a knife though, thank fuck! It’s pepper spray and he gets me with a perfect bullseye (or royseye). The boys erupt into whooping, yelling and laughter as they exit the pub on the rub. I can’t see anything but I’m just about holding it together as the few regulars that were in head towards the windows to watch them go.
SMASH, CRASH!! There’s an explosion of noise as the first of five windows go through. I yell at everyone to get back as a hail of broken windows, beer and shattered Budweiser bottles fill the front bar and cover the pool table with debris. I can’t see shit, my eyes sting like hell, they’ve gone but for how long, and what a mess, the front bar looks like a war zone. Marti helps me wash my eyes out and escorts me up the stairs to a concerned JJ, woken from her rest by the imploding windows. I have a smoke, try to open my screaming eyes and attempt to get my heart rate down and stop shaking as my adrenaline flow disperses through my body. Fuck... looks like the pool comp is off!
I head back downstairs after recovering somewhat, red eyed and still shaky but in need of a pint. The police call back to see if we still need them, cheers guys! My reply was not all too polite as i remind them we called over an hour ago. I settle into my pint as Marti and Romana, who’s come in after hearing about the chaos, finish clearing up the mess.
This is a big setback, nothing that can’t be patched up and it won’t affect the premises operating but all of my hard work with the travelers is in tatters. I can’t let this slide but what can I do. The bottom of my pints fail to provide an answer (they never do...) and so I eventually head to bed and finally rest my red and ruined eyes.
In the cold light of day I resolve to head up to the site on the A44 and find Tom. He’s the head honcho and I know from the time I spent staying on such a site in my youth that the hierarchical system in place would at least offer me hope of settling this mess. Everyone, literally everyone, tries to talk me out of what they consider madness but luckily Tom turns up for a pint before I can put that plan into motion. I pour him up a Guinness and ask him to come sit with me. He’s appalled by what’s gone on and apologises instantly and sincerely. He says he’ll be back later, he says the windows will be fixed and he says that those responsible will be in to apologise personally. He also says I’m ‘off me rocker’ and would of gotten nowhere near him on the site! He gives me a phone number to contact if there’s any future problems and he’s off, dumping a £20 on the bar to buy the staff a drink.
The windows get fixed and the boys come in, tails between legs and apologise, saying they didn’t know where they were and it should never of happened in Toms’ local. They're mostly sincere but I can sense the underlying resentment, they’re only here because the gaffer has told them to be. For me though it’s a great result and I relax into my role once more over the next few weeks with some memorable weekend nights flitting between my bars.
Christian pops by to tell me that the guys who viewed have submitted an offer, not just has it been submitted but it’s being carefully considered. He wants me to start scaling back my growth, he’s effectively telling me to get ready to move on. JJ is off to Korea in 2 weeks and I suddenly start to worry about her having a home to come back to! Christian also wants to start clearing the stockpiles of pub crap from the cellar. I’m not happy and break the news to the guys. It puts us all on a downer but it’s the weekend so we need to buck up our ideas, raise the corners of our mouths into a smile and go again, hospitality 101.
I fire off an email to Pat, my area manager from my stint in Plymouth and he calls me up saying that he's in London next week and he'll pop by for a game of golf ("you do play golf right Roy?") and a chat. It's an encouraging outcome and i'm pretty sure there's a set of clubs down in the cellar, there's literally everything you could ever need there so I'm not surprised when I find a set. I have played golf, but not very much of it, I learnt on what is claimed to be the highest golf course in Britain in a place called Llan Ffestiniog. It was a 9 hole course set up for the workers at the nearby nuclear power station and later opened to the public when the power station was decommissioned. Always rainy, on top of a mountain and sheep with all over the course keeping the greens nibbled nicely... ("yeah, I play golf Pat, see you next week!")
The staff are worried, Laco especially so as he sees all the investment of his time coming to a premature end but we're in the same boat he realises, as we sit and discuss how it will all play out. This is the night the police choose to pay their second visit. Not for Liam, there's no drama, and no initial concern from me. I welcome the visit and invite the officer in from the doorstep where he's standing awaiting my presence. It’s nearly 11 o’clock and I’ve just come down from Laco to close the front bar. He tells me he's the new community officer and that he'd like me to close, now, as he's expecting trouble. I explain my closing routine and tell him that I'm just starting the process and that I've never had any trouble closing but no, he's insistent. "Shut it down, all of it, now". It's the same guy I gave the runaround by not grassing on Liam and my response to the phone call seems to have circulated the local station. I think he sees this as some kind of payback and maybe he's trying to exert his authority. Either way it's gonna be a shitshow....
And so I start the close, but not after asking him to stay around and help me enforce the closure. He says he'll be back shortly and orders me to get started. Absolute chaos ensues, the Europeans come down and spill into the locals, fights kick off, the travelers come out and weigh in. My tables go over creating a barricade that spills into the road, there's a stand off as the locals regroup behind this newly created fortress but then the missiles start coming in over the top. Rocks, bottles anything to hand are flying this way and that as I shepherd the staff inside and lock the doors. It's carnage by the time the police get back, not the one 'community officer' but a full on riot squad and the battle rages into the night. That officer probably went back to the station and told his mates that his gut feeling about trouble had been right! After it all dies down I go out to recover what's left of my tables and manage to salvage most of them. It's all a bit of a reality check and for the first time I think to myself that maybe moving on isn't such a bad idea.
Christian is back. The sale is going through, "wrap it up Roy, start running down your stock". Great... I've done 10 weeks, took the place from zero to hero, conducted diplomacy Kofi Annan would be proud of and had a full on riot initiated by police 'help' and that's it, we're done. He wants me to be ready to go in 2 weeks. I call Pat to sure up our meeting, then break it to the guys that have been working their asses off for me these last few months. It's so sad because it's been such a roller coaster and the end has come before the beginning has even got into full swing. We all vow to make the best of the last few weeks and soldier on.
Pat drags me round the local 9 hole course, you can see he's embarrassed to be playing with such a crap player but in fairness he keeps offering me tips and advice. I think the tension in my shoulders is affecting my swing but then I don't really have a swing so who the fuck am I kidding! He absolutely destroys me with his golf and his Irish banter but I do have a couple of slightly better than mediocre shots and a lot of tips to ponder so I feel like I've improved. It was definitely fun.
More importantly we discuss this pub he's got in Colwyn Bay called the Prince Madoc. He's not happy with the current manager there and given my stellar performance in the big city he thinks I will go down well up there. I mention the time frame factors, JJ will be away from next week and I should be leaving after 2 but have a little bit of wiggle room. The Prince Madoc is another 3-6 monther, they're looking to sell it on and just want the trading figures to pick up a bit. we agree the basics and he agrees to get me a moving truck for my stuff and it's all set.
And so, 12 weeks after I rolled into London and with JJ in Korea with Cade I roll back out again and off up the motorway to North Wales. I have a lot of sadness to be leaving the great little team so recently formed. I'm definitely gonna miss the money as well, it was coming at me from all angles but what can you do, sometimes you just have to roll with the blows and me being me I was already planning for the next adventure. I just hope Colwyn Bay will be better for me than the last time i was there*...
*I was in care as a child in Colwyn bay, click The Park story links below if you wanna read about that chaos!
The Park part 1
The Park part 2
