Sackville Street

Steve Hobart

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It was a clear summer morning. The wind was brisk and blowing through Steve’s hair as he sat on his patio, enjoying his morning cuppa. “Life is a ritual”, that’s what Steve Hobart has always believed in and followed. Drinking his morning tea was a part of that ritual for him to start his day. Even in his semi retired days, he struggled to let go off his routine as it was the most relaxing thing for him in a stressful and chaotic world. He never understood how some people can live their lives without a following defined routines and rituals. Everything has to be laid out, planned and followed to the tiniest detail for him, probably the only thing that he didn’t like about Peter.

It has been 42 summers since Steve first met Peter. In those days, Steve’s dream was to be a professional footballer and he was working hard to achieve it. School, training and homework. He loved the discipline and the predictability in his daily life. He wasn’t the most popular student in his school but he was a different person on the football pitch. His coaches had promised him a trail with one of the biggest clubs in the country, if he kept on doing what he was doing. It is through football that Steve met Peter.

A year younger than Steve, Peter was the brother of one of the coaches, Roger, and Steve met him at a barbeque party at Roger’s house to celebrate a successful U-15 season. They hit-off instantly, as if they have known each other for years, and thus began their strong ad lasting friendship. Nothing could keep them apart, not even the incident that effectively killed Steve’s ambition to become a professional footballer. He was never the same person again, the only thing that kept him going was his routine and Peter. He became a loner and cut off contact from almost everyone else apart from Peter. It was as if something had left a huge vacuum in his life and he was trying to fill it up with his strict routines and dislike of people.

As Steve was sat at his patio, reminiscing about the days gone by, his smart phone rang. “Peter Tashkin” it displayed as the caller. The corner of his eyes lit-up as he picked his phone.

“Steve! Something has happened” – shouted Peter from the other end, without even giving Steve a chance to say “Hello”.

“Calm down Peter. What’s the matter? Is this another of your failed attempts to brew your own beer?”

“There is no time to explain. Just come over to mine … it’s very urgent”

“OK but at least tell me what is it about? Do I need to call anyone else? Do you need a doctor? Ambulance? Police?”

“Oh for God’s sake Peter, just stop trying to organise everything perfectly all the time and come over as soon as you can. I got to go”

The phone line went dead, leaving Steve in doubt and anxiety. His best friend seemed to be in some sort of trouble and he needed to be there for him but that was not the plan for this day. He was supposed to drink his tea, read the news on his smart phone app, take a shower and then fix the chest of drawers. He had the morning planned! But now this.

Mumbling something inaudible under his breath, he got up from his chair and limped towards his car. The limp in his left leg has stayed with him since the incident, the reason why he couldn’t pursue life as a professional footballer anymore but, he does not like to talk about it. He didn’t want to remember the pain, not the physical but, the emotional pain of losing not only a promising career in football but also the one person he loved more than anything. They say, it’s better to have loved and lost than to not love at all, but Steve wasn’t so sure.

Peter Tashkin

It was another glorious summer morning, the fourth day in a row! Quite unusual for this part of the world. Peter Tashkin woke up with a mild headache and a grumpy mood. Last night was a leaving do for one of his now ex-colleague and he overdid on the alcohol. His memory was quite hazy but something was definitely bothering him. He rolled over the bed to find his wife of 31 years, Anne, still sleeping. She looked very beautiful, more than ever. The radiant sunshine was creeping through the gaps in the blinds and landed perfectly on her face giving it a divine glowing aura. For a moment, Peter was happy. He was content. His love for Anne only grew with each passing day, even after so many years of marriage. It was then that it came back again, the guilt that he wakes up to for the last 38 years. He often wished he could become his favourite superhero, the Flash, for a day and run back in time to stop the incident from happening. He thought that after that evening his best friend Steve would never speak to him again but, their bond only became stronger after that incident and he was grateful for that.

Sitting on his side of the bed, Peter’s thoughts were drifting back to that eventful evening.

It was a late spring evening. He was supposed to hang out with his friend Steve. They had planned to meet at the north-west corner of the Trident Park, a lush green park with beautiful flower beds, grass trimmed to perfection and a small lake in the centre.

It was an exciting day! Steve had earlier told Peter about this girl he loved and finally mustered enough courage to ask her out. He couldn’t wait to hear all the details from Steve as he biked his way to the park.

But, that was not all. He was also excited to share with Steve the thing he “acquired” from the shady senior at university, a packet of marijuana. However, he was not sure if Steve would approve of it. For all his good qualities, Steve was too uptight and didn’t know how to have fun, thought Peter, and he wanted to help change it that evening.

Peter got to their meeting place a bit earlier than scheduled. Steve preferred this north-west corner of the park as very few people would come to this side. This meant he had some privacy in a city where he was quickly becoming the next big thing in his club. He was a very popular and gifted footballer who got fast-tracked to the first team from the reserves team.

Peter was tempted to make use of this quiet corner of the park and smoke his marijuana whilst waiting for Steve. It was his first time and he made himself a generous joint from the packet he bought.

Steve couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing when he finally got there. Peter was high on marijuana! He shouted some expletives at him and snatched the load from him to put it in his pocket.

“I’m going to burn this all. What the hell were you thinking, you idiot?” – He barked at Peter.

A bit scared and trying to change the topic, Peter asked Steve about the love of his life, Janet.

“Umm sorry mate. I don’t know what took over me but let’s not talk about this. Promise me you won’t tell anyone. My father will kick me out of the house and I’ll be homeless!” – Perhaps he was being a bit too dramatic.

“Fine I won’t, but you need to promise that you’ll never do drugs!” – demanded Steve.

“I promise, I won’t! Now, tell me about Janet. Did you speak to her? What did she say?” – Peter asked.

“Yes, I did” – suddenly the corner of Steve’s eyes lit with excitement and he smiled – “She said yes! She said she’ll go out with me. I am so excited about  …”

Before he could finish his sentence, a guy came from nowhere, picked up Peter’s bike and ran off with it.

Peter was still very high and was in no state to react to this. Thankfully for him, the athletic machine named Steve sped after him on his own bike to catch the offender.

The chase did not last long. The first bend out of the park saw a speeding car ram into Steve’s bike. He was lucky that he wasn’t dead, but his leg was broken in many pieces. What was worse that during the accident scene investigations the Police found marijuana in sufficient quantity in Steve’s pocket and arrested him for possession. He tried to explain it to the Police but they wouldn’t listen. He was caught red-handed and two years is what he got. The public prosecutor, Mr. Sanders, wanted to make an example out of this new-age young and flashy footballers who thought they could do anything they wanted to and built a very strong case against Steve, as if he had some personal vendetta against him.

It was then when suddenly something struck Peter about the evening before. He jumped of his bed as the realisation sunk in.

“It can’t be!” – He said to himself. How did he not put things in place last night? He hated himself for overdoing on the alcohol. His choppy memory was coming back, little by little. He reached for his wallet, and ransacked the visiting cards he had in his pocket. As he saw the name on the card, he knew he had to call Steve.

The incident

Steve screeched his car to a halt in Peter’s driveway.

“Don’t turn the engine off” – Peter shouted at him, as if something has possessed him – “43 Sackville Street” – he instructed Steve and he jumped into his car.

“What? You called me to come over urgently so that I can be your taxi? What the hell man?” – Steve wasn’t impressed.

“Just drive Steve, you are not going to regret this”

“Ok! At least tell me why we are going there? Isn’t that where they have built all the new offices?”

“Yes they have! We are going to Sanders Law Firm”

“Law Firm?! What have you done Pete? Why do you need a lawyer? What’s going on?”

“Oh for God’s sake Steve, can you not just concentrate on the road? I have not done anything, yet”

“Yet? So what do you plan to do? Why are you acting all so weird?”

“Ok, so I went to this leaving do last night and did a bit too much on the alcohol”

“Hah what a surprise!”

“Stop being such a judgemental arsehole. Fine I’m not going to say anything.”

“Oh come on! After all these years, if I can’t be a judgemental arsehole to you then what’s the point of being your friend?”

“True. After all you did for me, saved my life, went to prison for my crime, had to give up your dream of playing professional football but more than anything, you gave up your life, joy, happiness and love for me. To protect me. How can I ever forget?”

“Hey don’t you get all emotional right now. How many times do I need to tell you that it was not your fault? The law, the society is screwed up man. That’s why I don’t like to talk to or mix with anyone. You are the only person I have got and I appreciate you very much”

“Stop the car!” – barked Peter suddenly

“What?” – Steve was a bit shocked as Peter’s aggression.

“We are here, stop the car”

“Oh yea, sorry. Let me find a parking spot”

“No time, just leave it here by the pavement. We need to go”

“What is wrong with you today Peter? I am not going to keep my car on the pavement! I am not going to break the rules”

“You have played by the rules all your life, one parking fine won’t ruin it for you”

Steve couldn’t be swayed. He could clearly see the urgency and anxiety in Peter’s face and voice, so he stopped the car in front of this giant steel structure.

“Hurry, come with me Steve” – Peter ordered Steve as he jumped out of the car.

With no clue about what’s going on and no answers forthcoming he followed Peter. It was not always that Peter called the shots and Steve followed.

The “Sanders Law Firm” was on the 12^th floor of the building. Peter dashed out of the lift, followed by Steve and went to the reception.

“I want to meet your Managing Partner” – said Peter, short of breath

“Sure sir, do you have an appointment?” – The receptionist asked her back

“No I don’t but it’s very important”

“I understand sir but I am very sorry. You cannot meet her without an appointment”

“Of course I can, do you know who I am?”

“No sir” – the receptionist hesitated

“Tell her Steve Hobart is here to see her”

Suddenly this got more confusing for Steve.

“Why the hell is he using my name? Why does he want to get me into trouble” – he thought to himself.

“Hey why are you using my name” – Steve mumbled to Peter in a stern voice

“Just chill for a moment!” – Peter said back to Steve and then turned his attention back to the receptionist

“Can you please call her and tell her that Steve Hobart is here to see her?”

A bit confused and overwhelmed, she dialled the number to the Managing Partner’s chamber.

“Hello ma’am, I am sorry to disturb you but some Steve Hobart is here to see you and says it is very urgent and that you know him?”

There was a pause at the other end of the line.

“Ma’am are you there?” – enquired the receptionist.

“Yes, sorry. Please send him in” – came the reply

“Ok ma’am” – she hung up the phone – “Sir, you can go through. The third office on your left”

“Thank you very much” – said Peter as he started dragging Steve towards the aforementioned room.

Confused and lost, Steve couldn’t figure out what was going on. He had no idea what he was doing there, and before he could even react, Peter had barged in to the chamber. Suddenly, it all became very clear to him. It was as if he was teleported back in time, 38 years ago.

Quietly, Peter slipped out of the room. He took the visiting card out of his wallet for one more time, and smiled. It read:

Janet Sanders

Managing Partner

Sanders Law Firm

43 Sackville Street

Manchester