Peter Ward had been to France to see an old friend of his. Ward had first met David Tyler in London, all of those years before, when life seemed a lot better and the world was full of opportunities and rewards for people who were willing to take a risk. Ward had taken a risk, as he had arrived in London with his pockets empty of money, nowhere to live and no job. Eventually, after drifting through life for a while, Ward got a job as a mechanic in a garage in Catford. It was there that he first met Tyler, and it was then that their friendship blossomed.
The two colleagues shared a tiny flat, above a newsagents, just a few streets away from where they repaired cars to earn a living. Tyler was a year younger than Ward, and was born in Folkestone – a part of the world which Ward knew well. When they weren't up to their elbows in grease and grime, the two colleagues – now close friends – would spend all of their free time in their local pub, which was situated at the end of the street in which they lived.
Tyler was a heavy drinker, but he justified his love of lager and whisky by saying that when one works hard, one has the right to play hard. Ward didn't understand why Tyler had to justify his love of alcohol, because as far as Ward was concerned, Tyler was an adult, and he could do whatever he wanted whenever he chose to do so. It was during this time that Ward also became dependent on alcohol, but never once did
either of the two friends miss a day's work because they had consumed too much alcohol the night before.
Extract taken from "After Dover" - an ebook for kindle by Luke Ryman