• Vol. 02
  • Chapter 07
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My old Dad used to say that Brian was like a lean streak of bacon. These days it seems a virtue to be skinny. Anyway, back to Brian. He was teased constantly at school, because of his geeky looks and quick intelligence. The Brain was his nickname. Teachers used him constantly as cross-reference against their own unsure techniques, whilst being almost certain that he would point out their inaccuracies, quietly. Which gave them the get-out clause that they were only 'testing us'. When the rest of the testosterone-filled sixth-form lads were dating, Brian would smile vaguely, his mind apparently on higher things.
Those schooldays were over 30 years ago and I had forgotten most of my educational input. It had been swamped by years of adult life, love and low-paid jobs.
The few mates that I still managed to be pals with were also busy paying their mortgages and college fees for offspring. We did meet up occasionally for drinks, toasting each other and feeling self-righteous if our paunches were smaller than our last visit.
Someone said 'I wonder what happened to old Brian?
We fell silent, maybe having misgivings of the treatment we had dealt him. Then Colin blurted 'My niece lives in the States and is recovering from a tumour in her brain. it was touch and go whether she would recover. Thank God she pulled through. The surgeon who performed the operation was Sir Brian Clifton. He moved from the UK some 10 years ago. I checked the details on the website.'
He paused and ended, 'It was the same Brian, the one we mocked...'