Authors: Calvin Wade
First thing I did was move the pawn in front of my king forward
two places. James mirrored my move and moved the pawn in front of
his king forward too. Good news so far! I then moved my bishop out
(diagonally I remembered!) to attack what my one time stepbrother
called the
“
King Bishop Pawn
”
. I don
’
t know if that was the correct
terminology or whether he just made
that up. I remember saying to
him,
“
It
’
s just a pawn! That
’
s a king! That
’
s a bishop! AND THAT is a
pawn! If it was a kingbishop pawn, it would be a special looking pawn
that looked like a king and a bishop
…
it doesn
’
t, it just looks identical
to its seven little friends!
”
Marcus hated this! It really pissed him off. He was, like James, a
misunderstood intellectual type who had no time for a sense of humour.
Anyway, James then made some random bad move, I got my Queen
out, James started saying something to Caroline and Richie, I could
tell he wasn
’
t concentrating as he made another random move without
really looking, so I moved my Queen all the way forward diagonally,
took the aforementioned
“
KingBishopPawn
”
and announced in an unattractive yelp,
“
CHECKMATE!
”
Thirty seconds and it was over. Fantastic! I stood up and did a
celebratory bum, arms and breast wiggle. As sore losers go, James was
good.
“
Hang on! Hang on! That
’
s not fair! I was talking!
”
“
Seems fair to me, James. You
’
ve lost! Fair and square. The King is
Dead! Long live the Queen!
”
Paul Murphy was temporarily stunned, he hadn
’
t even mixed a new
drink after Nick
’
s defeat. He let out a,
“
Bloody hell! I don
’
t believe it! Jim
’
s not only lost but lost to a girl!
A girl!
”
James was still moaning,
“
She must have cheated! Was anyone watching? Did she cheat?
”
James looked round the audience. Silence. There were a few shaking
heads. At the best of times, I am as cool as a freshly baked cucumber.
“
Why must I have cheated? Four move mate. Oldest trick in the
book. My stepbrother taught me that when I was seven!
”
“
You cheated! I know you cheated! Play again!
”
“
Not a chance!
”
“
Come on! Scared you
’
ll lose?
”
“
I probably will lose, but that
’
s not the point. The point is, you lost this time, so stop sulking like a baby and drink the forfeit!
”
James muttered under his breath,
“
Fucking bitch!
”
Not a good move.
“
I beg your pardon?
”
Aware of his audience, James repeated himself, much louder second
time around,
“
I said, FUCKING BITCH!
”
At this point, I lost it! I dived across the desk, grabbed him by the
scruff of the neck, then rose up, lifting him up off the floor, whilst all the time staring right into his eyes. We were so close the tips of our noses
collided but this was no Eskimo kiss. I thought I coul
d smell urine.
“
Just because you forgot your mask, Phantom of the Opera boy,
does not mean you can start calling me a bitch! You need to learn some
manners and start taking defeat like a man. Apologise.
”
“
Get lost!
”
He was scared. I tightened my grip on his neck.
“
Apologise
”
.
Caroline felt the need to protect her little brother,
“
Let go of him.
”
“
As soon as he says,
“
Sorry!
”
James just about managed to speak through the vice like grip I had
on his throat,
“
Not
…
saying
…
sorry.
”
I smiled at him. Hannibal Lecter would have been proud of that
smile.
“
Jimbo, if you want to go home without a broken jaw and a party
straw to drink liquidised meals through for the next six weeks, I suggest
you quickly say sorry and then down that drink.
”
Amongst the weak, self-preservation always beats pride.
“
Sorry!
”
I let go. James made pathetic choking and gulping sounds. Caroline
still had more to say.
“
Leave him alone now
”
.
“
He needs to drink the forfeit.
”
“
Jemma! That
’
s not on! He
’
s fifteen years old!
”
“
So?
”
“
He can
’
t be downing massive shots of alcohol at fifteen. It
’
ll kill him!
”
“
Rubbish! I
’
m sixteen, if he
’
d have beaten me, do you think he
would have saved
me?
”
“
Probably.
”
“
Don
’
t lie, Caroline, you know he wouldn
’
t.
”
James had his voice back.
“
No, I wouldn
’
t! But I wouldn
’
t have cheated either!
”
It was Caroline
’
s turn to lose her cool.
“
James will you just shut up and change the bloody record!
”
The altercation had given Paul Murphy time to mix the forfeit. Once
again, the crowds had gathered.
Paul spoke,
“
Show her what you are made of James. Take the forfeit like a man!
”
To the renewed chant of
“
Down In One!
”
James attempted to
down the drink Paul Murphy had mixed. It was a smaller, less potent
mix than the one for Nick Birch as I think Paul had taken heed of
Caroline
’
s words and did not want to be facing a manslaughter charge
before the night was out. He need not have worried as its impact was
greatly diminished by the fact that the majority of the drink ran off the
sides of his mouth, down his spotty chin and onto his clothes. As he put
the glass down, Caroline shook her head at me and said,
“
You
’
re tight
”
. I thought a lot of her, but I was very aware the
feeling was not mutual! Not that I was bothered, I was not intending
on changing my spots for anyone. Brimming with confidence after my
chess victory, I headed back into the lounge and my romantic positivity
began to return when I noticed a new group of lads in there who
were about nineteen or twenty. There were four of them altogether and
thankfully amongst them were a couple of lookers. Catching my eye,
one of the two strutted over like a featherless peacock.
He smiled,
“
Alright?
”
I am now, I thought, I am now!
Caroline gave me a dig in the ribs with her elbow. A chess room is like a library, you have
to communicate in whispers,
“
Cheer up! What
’
s the matter with you?
”
I gave her a look like she was Screaming Lord Sutch
’
s crazier sister.
“
What
’
s the matter with me?
Do you really have to ask
‘
what
’
s
the matter
’
with me?
We are at a party and there are about fifty lads
to every girl, pretty much every single girl belongs in the
“
Gardens of
Babylon
”
because she is so hanging and we are sat in Nick
’
s bloody study
watching our prat of a brother beating a load of imbeciles at chess! I
don
’
t even know how to play chess! Do you?
”
“
No!
”
“
Does Nick?
”
“
By the way James keeps taking all his pieces off the board, I
seriously doubt it!
”
“
Look how many people are in here! It just shows how crap the party
is when there
’
s a big bloody crowd crammed into the study to watch a
chess match.
”
As James was taking yet another one of Nick
’
s pieces off the board,
the study door opened and Jemma Watkinson slithered in through the
crowd. Jemma was, without doubt, the prettiest girl in our school year.
She was tall, model slim, dark haired, blue eyed and full lipped. She
ticked all the right boxes apart from the crucial personality one.
I hissed at Caroline,
“
Bloody marvellous!
”
“
What now, Richie?
”
“
Jemma
‘
Bloody
’
Watkinson. I hate her.
”
“
Why?
”
“
There
’
s nothing more annoying in life than a great looking girl
with a crap personality.
”
“
What
’
s wrong with her?
”
“
Easier to tell you what
’
s right with her, her looks, other than that nothing!
”
A penny dropped on Caroline
’
s brain,
“
Is she the one that went out with Billy McGregor?
”
“
Yes!
”
“
You
’
re right. She
’
s horrible! She
’
s a strutter.
”
“
Pompous, obnoxious loudmouth.
”
Jim was becoming agitated,
“
Can you two shut the fuck up with your whispering? I
’
m trying
to concentrate here!
”
Caroline whispered again, this time directly into my ear,
“
Shall we go somewhere else in the house then, after this game?
”
I nodded,
“
Definitely!
”
Caroline and I had sat for almost an hour and a half in that study,
bored senseless. When we were agreeing terms and conditions of Jim
’
s
loan to us, in the taxi on the way to the Birch
’
s, one of the conditions
was that up to ten o
’
clock, Caroline and
I would stick with Jim and he
would decide what we would all do. After ten, the night was our own.