Dave

Tuesday is market day.

It doesn’t matter where I am, or what I’m doing – Tuesday is always market day, it always will be. Also, Tuesday’s the day I get my comic.

I met up with Dave tonight, first time in twelve years and it really was as if the last time I’d seen him was yesterday. He is a constant in a world where constancy seems to be draining away – like my Tuesday comic, or market day, or battered fish for dinner. Spending some time with Dave, on market day evening, in my home town, was a reminder of who I am, what I was, and what remains important. It grounded me a little and made me recognise that I have roots - some very deep. But best of all we talked, and laughed, and drank some beer like all three of us used to do in the old days. Two old friends not much changed.

But first…Tuesday is market day and I get my comic.

Thame is a very pretty market town in Oxfordshire. I was born there in my Gran’s house in Wellington Street. I didn’t realise at the time just what a lovely town it is. History is in every house - well the older ones, and some of them are over five hundred years old. Each Tuesday there’s an open market on the cobbled market square. Stalls of all types and lots of them – fruit, veg, flowers, shoes, meat, bric-a-brac, clothes, books – most things you need, and some that you don’t.

When I was a child there was a huge fish stall selling smelly fresh fish all laid out on ice in wooden boxes; “Get your Cod, fresh from the sea!” My Gran always fried fish for dinner on market day.







On market days my mum and I would wander down to Holland’s the newsagents in Buttermarket to collect my comic. My uncle Charlie worked there, he sorted and delivered papers amongst other things - it was ‘on order’ so I was sure of getting it. I was allowed one comic a week. Over the years I swapped and changed on a pretty regular basis. I think I started out with The Beano, then Dandy, and migrated on to The Magnet. Magnet was great because it wasn’t a ‘strip’, it was a ‘serialised adventure comic for boys’ - all text and a good long read. The stories were about the British Empire (The Wolf of Kabul), the Second Word War (Take that Fritz!), cops and robbers (it's a fair cop guv), ghosts at public schools (Yaroo!) - and of course the wild-west (Quick, form the wagons into a circle). I can remember other comics that I read occasionally – Dandy, Beezer, Hotspur, Wizard, Eagle, TV 21, June and School friend (borrowed from my cousin Linsey) and finally Fantastic - which was a black and white UK version of the colour American comic books that were sometimes for sale in Castle's, the rival newsagents – but The Magnet was the best.

After that all the comics seemed to be about football so I stopped reading them.

I don’t know which comic I was eagerly devouring when I first met Dave – probably Beano or Dandy. I can’t remember, I was only five. I met Dave in the playground on my first day of primary school. I have a dim recollection of my Mum pointing him out to me and telling me to look out for him - I don’t know why - perhaps his Mum said the same to him, but we struck up a friendship on that first day that seems to have lasted forever.

Twelve years absent and instantly at home.

Last night, first for thousands, we met in the ‘Brewers’. Dave had used it quite a bit in his teens but I only drank there occasionally, and only when Dave was in.

One of the best things about Thame is that it has lots of pubs, and there were even more when I was growing up. The Oxford Arms is now an Italian restaurant (Prezzo, a chain, I ate there – Spaghetti – average but passable) and the Saracen’s Head is an now an estate agents; but The Bird Cage, Swan, Black Horse, Nags Head, Cross Keys, Star and Garter, Falcon, Six Bells, Rising Sun, and the Oxford Arms are all still going strong.

Unfortunately, we didn’t get to ‘do’ them all, but after the Two Brewers - which hadn’t changed from the spit and sawdust kind of place that I have teenage memories of - we walked down to the Six Bells.











The Bells holds a special place in my heart. It was here, as fifteen year old ‘men’ that we were first served halves of bitter in our school lunch breaks, dressed in school blazers and ties, by a white moustached barman called Charlie. Charlie looked like he’d been in the army a long time ago and didn’t seem to mind that we were underage. There were three of us then – me – Dave - and Julian.

Julian couldn’t make last night, he killed himself a few years back. We talked about him, remembered good memories, raised our glasses, and tried to work out why.

Then, on up the 'Lower High Street' a little and into the Rising Sun.

The Rising Sun used to be a strange old pub, dark and dingy and run by an ancient old chap who we called ‘Shakey’, because he shook badly. We used to roll in for a pint, Crombie overcoats, Ben Sherman shirts, and see if we could ‘nick’ the beer out of the pump when ‘Shakey’ went out back. It seemed like ‘fun’ at the time - a lot of things are ‘fun’ at sixteen - you learn as you get older though. The Rising Sun has changed completely, it’s still ‘traditional’, but opened up and much lighter. There wasn’t a sign of ‘Shakey’; perhaps he was out the back. The place was heaving with a pub quiz, the landlord/quizmaster booming out questions in his ‘bingo caller’ voice.

Q. “Whose pen name was Ellis Bell?”
A. “Emily Bronte”. But I wasn’t playing.

It was completely packed, so we just had the one and moved on to The Abingdon.

I'd hardly ever used the Abingdon Arms - but it was quiet, it was getting late, so we stopped and had a couple and talked about the old days. Dave’s a great listener, he gets to listen a lot in his job I guess, and I’m a great talker when I’m talking about my favourite subjects – me and my blog – it’s all about me.

As I said to Dave last night “Read the blog, you’ll find out loads” – I know I do.

I think Dave will feature in my blog in the future. I’m not done with him yet.

Yes, it’s all about me, and Dave - and Julian.

I find out loads.