[ there's familiarity in the accents and the shared cultural background, at least, though it is true that they hardly know one another. thomas knows john's body better than john's mind or emotional landscape, and the same is true in reverse as well, he's quite certain.
and maybe for a moment, after that message about the drink, he'd imagined what it would like to repeat this experience, for it to become a regular thing, something more even. it isn't a thought he has to mourn because it wasn't based on anything real, but — it still comes with a pang, reading the message that follows.
mates. nightingale can't say he has a great many of those, either. ]
[ perhaps that is not something he should be admitting quite so freely, but thomas has long stopped caring whether others think of him as a lonely old man or not. (they're right if they do, aren't they? especially now that molly and peter are both in stasis. abdul, too, and frank. anyone he might have called a friend. ]
Depends what you like. There's a nice pub just off the market but it's a bit spit & sawdust. Or a bar down a side street over that way that's a bit more civilised
[ or any number of other options closer to where he usually spends his evenings, but they've already done the drinking amongst streets full of people otherwise engaged thing. should probably start this turn of a new page under new circumstances. ]
[ well he was about to finalise plans and go to faceplant his bed for twenty minutes of aggressively not thinking about anything of any importance, but now rugby's part of the conversation and one can't simply brush over the mention of rugby. ]
God, yeah, tell me about it.
[ what he wouldn't give for an occasional afternoon of match and a pint ]
[ rugby is, perhaps, thomas' one indulgence. no, that's not quite true: he likes listening to the wireless and he quite likes learning about plants as well. still, neither of those compares to rugby in any way. ]
When I was a schoolboy. Not after that. These days, I much prefer watching. Did you play?
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and maybe for a moment, after that message about the drink, he'd imagined what it would like to repeat this experience, for it to become a regular thing, something more even. it isn't a thought he has to mourn because it wasn't based on anything real, but — it still comes with a pang, reading the message that follows.
mates. nightingale can't say he has a great many of those, either. ]
I'd like that.
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Sometime next week?
[ the sooner the better, really. the sooner it is, the less time he'll have to overthink it. ]
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[ perhaps that is not something he should be admitting quite so freely, but thomas has long stopped caring whether others think of him as a lonely old man or not. (they're right if they do, aren't they? especially now that molly and peter are both in stasis. abdul, too, and frank. anyone he might have called a friend. ]
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[ usually the quietest at work, and therefore amongst the easiest to take off. ]
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[ or any number of other options closer to where he usually spends his evenings, but they've already done the drinking amongst streets full of people otherwise engaged thing. should probably start this turn of a new page under new circumstances. ]
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[ a moment later, he adds: ] I do mourn the fact that none of the places here show any rugby.
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God, yeah, tell me about it.
[ what he wouldn't give for an occasional afternoon of match and a pint ]
Did you ever play?
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When I was a schoolboy. Not after that. These days, I much prefer watching.
Did you play?
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i know nothing about rugby
[ rugby over football, that is. ]
Blackheath is doing well these days. [ compared to earlier years. far earlier. possibly before john's time. ]
neither do I high five
go us
[ a joke, but also the truth. he doesn't watch for that reason, he watches because he genuinely loves the game. ]
But yes, I agree.
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[ aha... okay, alright. time to seal the deal and call it a day while the going is good. ]
I'll meet you by the fountain at the south entrance to the market square at 7 on Tuesday?
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[ and he will ]