No Johnny, No! ( 1 of 2)

I met Johnny in 1997. He was one of those guys that you instantly take a liking to. We sat opposite each other at the Courier company. He worked on UK deliveries, and I did the Internationals. Same shit, just different destinations. Mornings were spent tracking and tracing parcels already in the system, while afternoons were dedicated to the new arrivals. There was paperwork to be done for each parcel, regardless of its destination. That was our job.

We had one big thing in common. We both liked a beer!

There was a lull in the operation around midday. Deliveries were made in the morning, and collections were made in the afternoon. But between 12 and 3 it was quiet. So, we had a few hours to kill. The pub across the road was a welcome retreat. Every day we’d have a sandwich and a couple of pints, we’d often go back after work around 6 pm and have a few more.

He was what I called “posh totty”, he lived in West London and had gone to public school and then University. I was from East London and didn’t even make the sixth form. But despite our very different backgrounds, we became mates, really good mates.

He was younger than me by about 6 years. I was 38 and going through my second divorce. He was married to his childhood sweetheart, and she was pregnant with their first child. I met her a couple of times, she was some kind of big shot in marketing, and I couldn’t help thinking at the time that she would probably outgrow him. I wasn’t being unkind, it was just that you could see she was ambitious and focused, whereas Johnny was a plodder. He had two speeds, slow and very slow.

Our hobbies and interests also differed. I liked football, boxing and horse racing, Johnny was a petrol head, he liked Formula One, motorbikes, and, strangely enough, shooting. He was a member of a local gun club and had won numerous prizes for clay and target shooting. I went to his flat one night after work and saw his gun collection, all safely tucked away in a locked cabinet. It was impressive, then we walked along to the Chelsea Gun Club where he was a member. I was useless, but Johnny was good, really good. I remember we both fired 10 shots. I missed the target completely on six of them and scored just a couple of points. Johnny hit the bullseye eight out of ten shots. Amazing!

He never really admitted It, but he was religious. I’d ask him on a Monday morning what he’d done over the weekend and he’d casually mention he’d been to church on Sunday morning, he never went into detail, it was just a matter of fact. Me? I’m a complete atheist.

I was only at the Courier company for a year before I moved on to a bigger company for more money and better prospects. But we still kept in touch. Once a month we’d meet, have a few beers and catch up on life. He now had a son, had bought a house in Surrey, and his wife had become a director at her company. Life was good.

Me? My divorce was through, and I was once again a single man. I’d started seeing a girl from work, and it was going well. I had my kids at weekends. It wasn’t perfect, but I made it work, and so life was good for me as well.

In 2002, I started my own Courier company. I borrowed some money from the bank, used every bit of savings that I had and took a chance. Of course, I called Johnny. Did he want to come in as an equal partner? He had the expertise in areas that I didn’t and visa versa. Before I even called him, I suppose I knew what his reaction would be. Johnny wasn’t a risk taker, he didn’t have the same drive that I had. His answer was a very firm no. He gave me every excuse under the sun, the house, the mortgage, family commitments, and I think he even mentioned his dog, apparently, he had to be home at a certain time to feed it. I just laughed. Typical Johnny.