Hearts and arses

We got bored with noughts and crosses and invented our own version; hearts and arses. The hearts were the traditional heart shape that you used to draw all over your exercise book, the arses were two flabby cheeks separated by a smelly dark crack.

For some reason the arses always won.

Arse was our favourite word, we used it all the time, held the world to ransom with it. We got told off, were made to stand outside the classroom, given extra work and kept inside during playtime. Even our parents protested, withholding our pocket money and restricting my visits to you (you were never allowed to visit me).

Hearts and arses was just one of the games we played; hangman became hang mrs crane. We didn't like Mrs Crane, our main teacher, who did dastardly things like stopping us sitting together if we misbehaved. We always played hangmrscrane to lose, guessing z, x, w and y so that Mrs Crane always found her neck in the noose

We spent all our spare time together, when our teachers and parents would let us. I was five and you had your sixth birthday that year. I gave you a book on insects and butterflies, yes that was another of our passtimes, torturing insects and butterflies.

Who knows what would have happened to us? Grown
from childish sweethearts to a lifelong couple,
or maybe we'd have just grown apart.

We never had the chance to find out. Your parents moved away for your dad's work, somewhere in Yorkshire. We tried writing, both managed about two letters short letters, but neither of us had really mastered the art and it was no fun, even drawing arses meant nothing if I couldn't see your reaction. We didn't have a phone, so I couldn't even hear your voice.

I grew up, thought nothing about you, life happened around me and sometimes to me. I didn't see you again for 36 years.

I was acting as duty solicitor at City magistrates court in London. I was handed a file for a client whose own solicitor had failed to turn up. I recognised the name, Andrea Simmons, but thought nothing of it, names are common. But I recognised you as soon as I saw you, though I was surprised to see you'd grown up, a 40 year old woman, though still see the same mischievous grin.

It was a simple case. You'd shouted at a traffic warden who'd given you a parking ticket, but
for some reason they'd decided to dump on you and take you to court for assault. We had about ten minutes to go through your file before we had to appear in court, no time at all to catch up (did you still torture butterflies?).

It was basically his word against yours, he claimed you threatened him and for some reason, although he was six foot and fifteen stone and you were five foot nothing,left him quaking with fear.

It was you and me versus the authorities again, just like in the good old days.

I sat beside you in court, just like I had at school, though this time I had to stand and defend you.

For some reason, just as we had at school, we managed to lose out to the authorities, you were found guilty and, astonishingly, given a two week prison
>sentence. The arses had won again.