Ned called the pub on Thursday to reserve a table for six old friends. They met once a year, talked for hours, and ordered food only after the kitchen threatened to close.
The manager asked whether they wanted the dining room or the snug.
“The snug,” Ned said. “We want to hear each other.”
She asked for a time. He said seven. She asked how long they would need the table.
“Until someone remembers an early start.”
She booked it until ten and suggested they could stay longer if nobody else needed it.
On Saturday, Ned arrived first. A sign on the snug door read PRIVATE BOOKING. He was pleased. Inside were two tables pushed together, six chairs, and a card with his name. He ordered a pint and sat by the fire.
At seven fifteen, only one friend had arrived. He had brought a birthday card for Ned, though it was not Ned’s birthday. He explained that he had found last year’s card in his coat and thought it deserved another chance. Ned signed it and passed it back.
At seven thirty, three more arrived. The sixth, Colin, called from outside to say he could not find the snug. Ned told him to follow the sound of the fire. Colin pointed out that fires did not make a useful sound from the car park.
When Colin finally appeared, he was carrying a tray of drinks. He had bought them in the bar while waiting for somebody to fetch him. The friends cheered and settled in.
The manager came to take food orders. Ned said they would decide soon. She put a menu on the table. Half an hour later, she returned. They had discussed the menu but not read it. One man wanted fish, then remembered he disliked bones. Another wanted the pie until he learned the filling. The manager said the kitchen closed at nine.
At eight fifty-five, Ned ordered six portions of chips and a bowl of olives. The manager wrote it down with the patience of a woman who had expected exactly this.
At ten, she came to say another party had the snug booked. Ned protested; he had asked for a quiet table for the whole evening.
“You booked it until ten,” she said.
“I said until someone remembers an early start.”
She pointed at Colin, who had already put on his coat. “He did.”
Colin looked embarrassed. “I have to be up at six.”
The manager offered them a table in the lively bar. Five friends accepted. Colin stayed another hour after discovering the bus he planned to catch had stopped running.
Ned watched him order another drink. “I thought you had an early start.”
“I do.”
“So why aren’t you going?”
“I never said I had an early finish,” Colin replied.