The twenty year lie
Five of us shared a house in the last year of university, all blokes trying to find jobs. Bob had a particularly good opportunity with a bank, which was his absolute dream job. Now Bob was the kind of person who professed to taking massive drugs. The night before his interview we were sitting round having a drink and Bob was giving us his drugs stories. Mike produced a small pink pill and offered it to Bob, saying he didn’t know what it was, but it was reputedly strong stuff. Bob took the pill and necked it. For the rest of the evening he professed to feeling a little light-headed but nothing odd.

Next day Bob went off for his interview, returning late afternoon with a tale of woe: another candidate had said there was a drugs test as part of the interview process. Knowing he’d taken an unknown drug the night before, Bob had run out of the offices. Bye-bye nice job. Mike felt awful. He’d told the rest of us that the pink pill was in fact a child’s sore-throat tablet: he’d given it to Bob as a joke, and now Bob had messed up the offer of a good job. Mike couldn’t bear to tell Bob the truth.

We all kept in touch as we eventually found jobs and moved away, found girls and settled down into the middle-class routine of work, marriage, kids. Except Bob: he drifted in and out of temporary jobs, travelling to Eastern Europe and then Asia. Eventually he moved to Australia, moved in with a girl and took a job which was nothing special, but allowed him to live. While the rest of us kept in touch, Mike and Bob’s friendship was strained. All this time Mike was thinking to himself that he’d caused this by his lie: if only he’d told Bob the trick on the day of the interview, or even just afterwards, Bob might have had another chance, got the job, and had a different life.

Ten years after leaving university we all met up again: the first time that Bob and Mike had seen each other for many years. As we caught up with each other’s lives, and Bob explained his happy-go-lucky existence, Mike couldn’t hold it back any longer and burst out with the story about the tablet: he was so sorry, he felt awful. Bob was silent: he stared at Mike, and shook his head slowly. “That’s all right mate, water under the bridge, hey?” he said. “Still, I wonder what might have been…” We all took a sip from our pints and stared at the table in silence for a while.

Mike left the get-together soon after. As soon as he was gone Bob burst out laughing. He’d realised the pill was nothing. In reality he’d had a change of heart as he got off the tube to go to the interview: did he really want to spend his life commuting to work with everyone else, and settle down to play happy families? He’d had a great time travelling the world, and he couldn’t be happier where he was now.

That was 10 years ago. Bob still hasn’t told Mike. In fact he didn’t like Mike much anyway; losing his friendship was no loss as far as he was concerned. The twenty-year lie, still going.
(Smale is stuffed, Mon 12 Mar 2012, 14:52, 15 replies)

Brilliant story...
...and well told too. Clicks.
(emadex thinks the world will end on, Mon 12 Mar 2012, 14:54, closed)

^

( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Mon 12 Mar 2012, 15:00, closed)

Hah. That's a good
one, but aren't you ever tempted to let the cat out of the bag?
(username failed moderation, Mon 12 Mar 2012, 15:01, closed)

winner

(TheManWithThePlan cussed your mum on, Mon 12 Mar 2012, 15:07, closed)

^^^
*click *
(localboy purveyor of pisspoor puns, Mon 12 Mar 2012, 15:12, closed)

dull, over-told and dull.

( janet aylia y'all motherfuckers need jesus, Mon 12 Mar 2012, 15:21, closed)

^ Predictable trolling predictably

( P-MONKE We're all fucked, Mon 12 Mar 2012, 17:37, closed)

You're a bit of a cunt really, aren't you?

( An Eagle in Your Mind, Tue 13 Mar 2012, 14:44, closed)

Nice one!
Have a click from me.
(eesnahk, Mon 12 Mar 2012, 16:04, closed)

Bob sounds like a right cunt.

(Me, I'm not... in any way intoxicated, Mon 12 Mar 2012, 16:08, closed)

You know,
With a bit of work, this could be a really good short story, of the Roald Dahl 'Switch Bitch' variety.

So a click for the story...I may well steal it. Though of course I'll change the names to avoid any problems. I'll call them Rob and Michael.
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Mon 12 Mar 2012, 16:28, closed)

That's fine
I already changed the names. They were really Tim and Peter, but don't tell anyone.
(Smale is stuffed, Tue 13 Mar 2012, 8:09, closed)

tiny drugs
MASSIVE STORY
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Mon 12 Mar 2012, 16:28, closed)

Liked it, put a click on it.
( enoughblueskyforsailorstrousers, Mon 12 Mar 2012, 18:38, closed)

.....and then Mike committed suicide because of the guilt of it all
The End
(Nitrous Nitrous, Mon 12 Mar 2012, 18:38, closed)