Kiwi glanced back momentarily at the man who had walked into him and turned back, not giving him a second thought.

Frank extended his arm out and caught Helen by the elbow, making her look up at him. "Listen Helen - Joe and me were wondering whether we could borrow you to help us choose some gifts for our girlfriends – a woman’s touch and all that?" he asked, turning to Joe for support who nodded in agreement and put on the charm.

"Yes, I’d be happy to," she turned to her husband and pecked him on the cheek. "See you later, sweetheart." They wandered off and everyone else smiled at each other.

"That went off a lot easier than I expected," remarked Mark. "She always sees straight through our lies."

"Those two have obviously got a knack for it!" remarked Alex and they entered the hall again. The remaining four split up in couples and began to search for the perfect gift.

***

Alan paused at the front desk and requested passes for him and Mike so they would be able to re-enter the hall after their ‘chat’. The doorman passed two across, hardly even glancing at the two men and they exited the building.

Mike tapped Alan on the shoulder to get his attention and pointed towards the corner of the building and they veered away in that direction. As Alan drew level, three pairs of arms whipped out and dragged him out of site. As they slammed him into the wall, Alan looked into the faces of three grim looking men.

"What’s the big idea?" he gasped, his eyes flicking from one man to another, and then rested on Mike as he rounded the corner himself. "Not going to introduce me to your friends then?" he asked Mike sarcastically.

Disregarding the question Mike said, "we’ve got a BIG problem, Alan – I need the goods back."

"No way, I already paid you, you’re not walshing on the deal now." He thought for a second and then smiled slightly, "Oh…I geddit, you’ve worked out how much the stash is actually worth have you?"

Mike shook his head from side to side. "The original owner wants the collection back, and to tell you the truth Alan, you don’t have much choice – none of us do!"

Alan started to laugh derisively. "So, you got caught did you? Why should that concern me?"

"Because the owner is Billy Forester."

Alan stared at Mike for a few seconds, the statement sinking in, finally he spoke quietly, "Billy Forester? You’ve gotta be kidding!"

"I wish we were."

Alan couldn’t believe his ears. "BILLY FORESTER? YOU STOLE FROM BILLY FORESTER? ARE YOU PEOPLE INSANE?" he asked, his voice loud and squeaky.

Mike narrowed his eyes and looked about him, concerned. "Keep the volume down, do you want everyone to hear our troubles," he hissed.

Alan took a deep breath, shrugged aside the hands that were holding him and came to a decision "Take the stuff – Billy Forester is not a man I’m prepared to mess with - I like living," he held his hand out, palm upwards, "but I want my money back - now!"

Mike closed his eyes for a second, making Alan worry that he wasn’t going to get compensated for his loss. Eventually, realizing he had no other choice, Mike relented. He pulled out a thick wallet and counted out the money into Alan’s outstretched hand. "Now you’ve got your doe back, let’s get the stuff."

Alan smiled cruelly. "You’re running a little scared there Mike, what’s the hurry?"

"Don’t get smart Alan, just get walking…"

***

Mark paused at Alan’s stall and scanned the goods carefully laid out before him. He pursed his lips, impressed at how authentic everything looked. He lifted up a jug and ran his hands over it, marveling at the rich brown color and rough texture. Placing it carefully back down, he reached out to pick up a gilt-edged drinking horn. Before he’d lifted it more than an inch from the table however, his eye caught something glinting beneath. With his index finger, he pulled the tiny object towards him, lifted it, and immediately became excited. He looked around for Alex and spotted him three tables up. "Hey Alex, I think I’ve found something pretty special here."

Alex looked over and weaved in and out of people until he reached his friend. Rob and Kiwi, who had also heard Mark’s shout, came over and joined them. They got into a huddle and Mark dropped the object into Alex’s outstretched hand. "It’s a ring," Alex commented and held it up for all to see with his thumb and forefinger and turned it slowly.

The delicate finger ring was gold in color and imbedded in the band were three, oval shaped, smooth cut, garnet stones. The semi-precious jewel in the center was large and the other two smaller. All three caught the light and shone like cats’ eyes in the dark.

"Perfect," Kiwi said, "she’d absolutely love that." The others nodded in agreement.

"How much is it?" wondered Mark, peering at the price tag. "Oops, too expensive for us!"

Alex looked and allowed a grin to spread across his face. "Lads, I think this is what’s known as ‘destiny’."

"What?" asked Rob.

"Joe and Frank donated some money into the kitty, and I think you’ll find that along with their cash we have collected just enough."

"What are you waiting for then?" asked Kiwi.

"Nowt," said Alex. Turning to the stall but was disappointed to see no one was manning the table.

Blue, however, was keeping an eagle eye on what they were doing and sidled across. "Alan’s popped out and has left me in charge of things." He explained.

"We’d like to put in an offer for this ring," said Alex.

"Well, you can’t barter the price down with me - you’ll have to wait for Alan to come back," said Blue.

"No, that’s fine, we’re happy to pay the full price," said Alex and handed the money across.

"Pleasure doing business with you." Blue grinned, secretly feeling smug he’d sold the ring to them for the full asking price "Alan will be well chuffed with me!" he thought happily.

The four young men walked away feeling chuffed. Alex pushed the ring onto his little finger, up to his middle knuckle for safekeeping. "We could do with something to put this in, like a small box." They all started again to look at tables until Rob and Kiwi waved to Alex and Mark and held up a soft leather pouch, with a drawstring fastening. Rob paid for the purse and the ring was dropped in and stowed in Mark’s inside pocket.

They decided to try and catch up with Helen and the Hardys and weaved their was further into the room. They turned in surprise along with everyone else at the sudden commotion that came from the direction they’d just come. "Someone’s having a bit of a barney!" remarked Mark, listening to the voices raised in anger.

***

Joe and Frank chinked out of the washroom dressed in full fighting regalia. They no longer needed help to get into the armor, having learned the knack of putting on the chain mail without help. Even though, the others had still been left waiting for five minutes.

Helen and Alex had gained permission from the organizers of the show to temporarily commandeer a side room to use as a dressing room. She required Alex’s help to lace her into her dress and they’d disappeared into the room two minutes before the Hardys had reappeared.

The door opened and Alex come through with Helen following. Frank whistled as she emerged, clearly impressed. She was dressed in a long, blue dress, which fell to her ankles, under which she was wearing a white underdress. The top of the dress was skin tight right through to the hip and then flared off to the ground. It was leather laced down the back, from the waist to the nape of the neck. The sleeves were tight to the elbows and then dropped dramatically to the knees. The hem and cuffs were festooned with hand embroidery and she had a studded belt around her waist, the tab of which also reached ground level. A pouch hung from the belt, which was large enough for everyone to store their wallets out of sight. Her long auburn hair was braided and lengths of ribbon woven through. Alex leaned into his wife’s ear and whispered something.

"Down boy!" she said, feigning shock and pushing him gently away, "easy tiger!"

They walked into the hall, and saw that the tables which had previously been used by stallholders, were now pushed together into rows. Already, seats where starting to be filled by an array of re-enactors from all the different periods. Joe laughed when he spotted Romans mixed in with Saxons and First World Warers with Second World Warers. They selected a table and sat next to a large group of loud voiced, smartly dressed, red coated Napoleonic soldiers.

"Oh, how I love a man in uniform," said Helen, eyeing up the men around her.

The next two hours were filled with entertainment and interesting authentic dishes. Joe and Frank found that some dishes were delicious, while others were quite frankly, disgusting. No one seemed to mind the revolting dishes; it was all part of the fun.

Fire-eaters, jugglers and a man who lay down on a bed of nails entertained them. "Give me a nice soft eiderdown bed any day!" Mark had remarked.

The crescendo of the evening was a knife-throwing act by the ‘The Great Jamero’. They watched mesmerized as the husky entertainer threw knives at his pretty assistant, amazing everyone as each weapon missed her by a mere inch with each precise shot.

The Great Jamero now stood on the stage and requested a brave volunteer. He scanned the room, but no one was gutsy enough to put their hand up. "If no one volunteers, I’ll pick someone myself," he warned. This statement was again met by dreaded silence; many people put their heads down, not wishing to lock eyes with the entertainer lest they be singled out.

The only movement in the whole hall came from Kiwi, who had suddenly stood up behind Rob and was frantically pointing at his friend’s head to indicate for Jamero to pick him.

The entertainer nodded, stepped of the stage and headed in Rob’s direction. Kiwi threw a self-satisfied smile at Mark and sat back smugly, assured that Rob was going to be the victim. However, his expression of conceit turned to one of concern as he bypassed Rob completely and loomed over him. A loud cheer erupted about the room as The Great Jamero grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and hauled him towards the podium. "Some people never learn!" he shouted to the crowd as he pushed a humiliated Kiwi up onto the stage.

The rest of the guys clapped and cheered loudly – no one cheering louder than Rob, who had just discovered from Mark what his friend had tried to have done to him.

Kiwi stood up against the target and allowed the pretty assistant to blindfold him. Jamero stood in front of him the whole time, pretending to sharpen the knives loudly in readiness and warned Kiwi in a booming voice not to move an inch – for his own safety’s sake. He waited until he was sure Kiwi could see nothing and passed all the knives silently to his assistant and retreated empty handed to the other side of the stage.

He breathed in loudly and shouted, "okay Dave, ready yourself, here comes the first knife – remember, don’t move, or it could be curtains!" Making a humphing sound as though he was putting effort into a throw, he nodded to his assistant, who delayed for a second, and then slammed the first knife home from her position right next to him. Of course, Kiwi didn’t know he wasn’t in any danger, and his friends could see him visibly shaking. They laughed their socks off, enjoying watching their friend suffer.

After eight weapons had been punched home, Kiwi was allowed to remove the blindfold and, much relieved, exited wobble legged from the stage to a tumultuous applause.

"Wow, Kiwi, we’re impressed by your bravery!" said Alex, concealing his mirth. "You didn’t even flinch!"

"Yeah, well done buddy," joined in Joe. "I’m not sure if I would have been that cool headed."

Kiwi’s chest puffed up, "aw…it was nothing, mates," he bragged, obviously not realizing he was at the butt end of a joke, which made them laugh all the harder.

Frank noticed Mark nudge Alex to get his attention and lean forward to speak to him in a hushed tone. Alex nodded slightly and Mark passed the pouch across to him. They all watched expectantly as the small drawstring bag was slid across to his wife. Helen looked at it, and then eyed her husband questioningly, who shrugged his shoulders and smiled.

"What’s this?" she asked, nonplused.

"Open it and see. It’s from all of us, including Frank and Joe," he said.

She took it suspiciously, loosened the cords and hesitantly slipped her hand in. She grasped the small object inside and brought it forth into the open. Her mouth dropped open when she saw what she was holding and her face turned to one of astonishment. "Is this for me?"

"Well, it’s not a man’s ring is it?" said Mark.

"Whatever made you buy me this?" she asked surprised, blushing brightly.

"For making all the soft kit and adopting Joe and Frank in their hour of need." explained Alex.

She slipped it onto the ring finger of her right hand. "A perfect fit," she said in a strangled voice. "Thank you so much, it’s really beautiful," jumping up, she ran around the table, hugging each of her friends.

***

An hour later and they were almost back on the road.

Mark was quite insistent he wished to ride with Alex and not in "The old rust-bucket my dear brother calls a car!" Therefore Frank opted to travel with Rob and Kiwi and climbed into the back. He gesticulated rudely through he glass at Mark who had shoved his fingers in his ears and was sticking his tongue out. Alex bibbed the horn impatiently, urging Mark to get into the car and finally pulled away, ahead of Rob.

"Okay," said Alex, "I need a volunteer to navigate now that Frank has left the sinking ship."

"Don’t look at me, you know I’ve got no head for direction," replied Helen.

"Me neither," said Mark from behind Alex’s chair.

"I wasn’t including you in the plea Mark, we want to get home at some point tonight!"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence Friend!"

"I’ll do it," Joe volunteered. Helen passed the road atlas back and he opened it at the marked page. "Don’t blame me if we get completely lost though. I’m the foreigner around here remember," he muttered, squinting at the page and following the line of the road with his finger.

Half and hour later, Alex pulled in behind a pick-up truck which was transporting a refuge skip piled high with builders’ rubble. "That’s what I hate about skips, the load never looks secure to me," he remarked.

Helen leant forward to see what he was talking about. As the truck bounced over bumps in the road, the contents of the skip could clearly be seen, being jostling about on top. "Hmmm, I see what you mean," she agreed.

Ahead, a light changed to red and the truck slowed to a halt. Alex gently applied the BMW’s brakes and frowned, sensing the brakes were not responding quite as sensitively as they should. "That’s odd!"

"What is?" asked Mark.

"The brakes are a little sluggish."

"What was that?" asked Joe, distracted by the map book.

"The brakes don’t feel right. I think I’m going to pull over after this light and take a quick look."

The lights changed and the truck accelerated and moved away. Alex picked up speed and began to pump the brake, making everyone sway forwards and backwards. "Nope, must have been my imagination, seems to be working just fine now. Oh, wait a sec…WHOA - HOLD ON EVERYONE, THE BRAKES HAVE GONE!"

"Alex?" Helen questioned in a frightened voice. She watched the road ahead as the car started to eat up the tarmac. "ALEX – THE LIGHTS!" she yelled, indicating to the next set of traffic lights up ahead, which were changing color. The pick-up truck began slowing down accordingly, not realizing there was a problem behind.

Alex was trying to stop the car by pulling on the emergency brake, but it wasn’t stopping fast enough. He knew evasive action was called for, or they were going to smash straight into the back of the vehicle in front. Glancing to his right he saw a car coming up his side hemming them in, therefore, silently praying there were no pedestrians he couldn’t see, he took the only other option of mounting the sidewalk.

Desperately twisting the wheel, he threw his arm out and thrust it across his wife, pinning her into the seat, knowing it was too late and they were going to hit the truck anyway. Gritting his teeth and bracing himself, the car ploughed into the pick-up, mashing the right front fender of the big car out of all recognition.

The air bags instantly inflated, saving Alex and Helen from being thrown against the dashboard. Mark, who had stupidly forgotten to apply his seat belt went forehead-first into the back headrest and ended up splayed across Joe’s lap. Joe felt his seat belt cut painfully into his shoulder as he was thrown violently forward and then felt nothing.

Following the initial crash noise there followed the sound of something hitting the windscreen of the car. All was silent for an instant, and then Helen started screaming.

Alex opened his eyes and looked across at his wife’s horrified face. "Calm down! It’s fine, we’re all okay - I managed to avoid a direct hit," he said soothingly taking her hand. He studied her face and realized she was screaming at him, not because she was frightened. He shook his head, and suddenly realized her image was starting to swim in and out of focus. Looking down to see what she was staring at, he finally saw the iron bar sticking out from his chest.