Bobby McGee

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-one

A Night at the Willoughby Arms

It was a Friday night and the Willoughby Arms was bursting with local village girls and cadets from the nearby Air Force College. A few older regulars sat at the bar, facing the beer pumps, secretly watching the weekly ritual unfold by occasionally glancing at the large mirror situated behind the bar. Usually it took at least two pints of ale or signals of encouragement from the more forward young ladies, before the cadets would make their move. The tall Peter McGee, tanned from his continental trip and confident in the allure of his uniform, was not one to tarry.

Having purchased his usual pint of bitter at the bar, he meandered towards his classmates, Paul and Derek, who were standing by the huge stone fireplace that dominated the lounge. He could have walked around the perimeter, but purposely squeezed his way through the throng of girls who were seated around closely packed circular tables in the centre of the room.

"Excuse me, Miss, could I just make my way through here please?"

The strategy resulted in appraising glances from the girls at several adjacent tables. The young woman in question, gave a friendly grin, and obligingly moved her stool.

"Thank you, kindly."

This was repeated several times, as he clumsily approached the fireplace.

For several minutes the three cadets stood on display in front of the empty grate, quaffing their ale and in turn assessing the local talent.

"See anything interesting, Peter?" asked Derek.

"Look at the table closest to the bar. See the girl with the jet- black hair, and big boobs. That's Jenny Bryson and I've heard that she has the hots for you my friend."

"Really?" The tremor in Derek's voice revealed a sudden interest.

"Sure."

"Maybe I'll give her a try later, after another drink or two."

"I hear she's an easy lay."

"Hey, Pete, sorry to interrupt your intellectual conversation but I believe someone is trying to attract your attention."

"Who?"

"Over there, look. She's waving at you."

"Damn!" It was Gillian. She had somehow procured an extra stool, and was beckoning him over. He couldn't really refuse. She had been so kind to him when he had been stranded, penniless, at the bus station in Lincoln. She wasn't bad looking either, at least from the waist up. He sidled over to the table, where she was sitting with two other girls. She looked up at him. Her eyes were shining. She was obviously pleased to see him.

"Hi Peter. My you're looking fit." She gave him an affectionate tap on his firm stomach. "Having a good time?"

"Not yet, but things are looking up."

Gillian smiled. "Your buddies look pretty glum. Why don't you invite them to join us? These are my best friends Liz and Val."

"Nice to meet you," said Peter, instinctively eyeing the two girls whilst shaking their hands. Liz had a handsome face with light brown hair and piercing blue eyes. She was what farmers would call a "strapping lass" - not fat but with a large frame ideally suited for heavy work. Val, in contrast, was wafer thin, pale skinned, and from her timorous handshake probably quite shy.

Peter returned to negotiate. Paul, attracted by the smiling face of Liz, was game, but Derek was hesitant. "I'm not so sure. I was rather thinking of trying my luck with Jenny Bryson later. She has sort of looked over here once or twice."