Marcus rolled over; the cacophony of the phone would soon cease.

After 17 rings, it did.

5 minutes later, it started again. Marcus heaved himself from the sofa and wearily stumbled to the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Burnsy! Having spoken to you forever and I've got a day off! Fancy a drink?"

The man on the phone was called Tony. He was an idiot.

"It's ten in the morning Tony..."

"My God it is!" cried Tony in mock surprise, "...so about that drink?"

The good thing about living in east London, Marcus was forced to concede as he strode through the unseasonably warm air, was that there was no lack of choice when it came to pubs. Tony had enthusiastically suggested 'The Black Boy' on account of its excellent variety of real ale. The place itself was a poky bastion of quintessential working class culture, the controversial name in actuality referring to the areas chimney sweep heritage.

Tony sat at a table near the back of the pub, instantly recognisable by the insatiable smile that belonged to a man ten years younger. Marcus crossed to the table and sat down.

"So what're you having?" Tony frothed.

"I don't really feel like drinking, not this early anyway."

"Do you know what you need then?" Tony continued, unabated.

"What?"

"A Fuller's!" cried Tony, standing up and covering the 15 feet to the bar in what seemed like one fluid movement.

"Alright. But I'm paying."

Satisfied, Tony made his way back with the drinks.

"Why are we in the pub at 10 in the morning? What do you wanna see me about?" Marcus had never been one to mince his words, least of all in his current mood.

"I was hoping to talk to you about the paradigm shift concerning quantum mechanics"; Tony was one of those people who failed to understand that subtlety was required for effective sarcasm. "Why the hell do you think I want to talk to you? Nobody has seen you for weeks!"

"I don't feel like going out. I just want to sit around and relax. I need a bit of me time."

"You've been saying that for nearly two years."

"Well it must be true then."

Tony gritted his teeth. "We're worried about you. You've been going out less and less lately, and what with you not needing to go to work we just feel like you're stagnating."

Marcus was looking into his glass as though trying to work out whether it was deep enough to drown himself in.

"And we've tried, God knows we have. But it just feels like you don't care anymore. You've been completely disinterested in everything we've done for you. Remember when I got you that lunch date with the brunette who had the really nice-"

"I wasn't ready for that". Marcus cut across him. "I was still adjusting to life outside of the regiment".

Tony pursed his lips and sighed, the pair supping their beer without any real purpose but to dull the effect of the hiatus in conversation. Tony's gaze wandered, before returning to that of his friend.

"You're not happy are you?" he said bluntly.

"I... I'm just... At the moment I..."

Tony looked at him.

"No."

"You do know everything I've been telling you to do would help no end. You've just gotta get out and be a bit pro-active. You're a funny guy Marcus. People like you."

Marcus roused slightly. "So what do you suggest?"

Three rounds on the quiz machine and a QPR game later he was in better spirits than he had been in months, the lively football induced atmosphere permeating through him, helped in no small part by 4 pints of 4.1% London Pride. All of a sudden the pub seemed friendlier. The other patrons fellow football fans rather than scrutineers, the dingy lighting inviting rather than intimidating. Tony was staggering slightly; his rhetoric "You're a long time dead" justifying his consumption of 7 pints on a Sunday. He ambled over and brandished some peanuts at Marcus, then pulled him into a tight hug before he had a chance to take one. "Listen I'm so sorry but I've got to go, it's been so great to see you. We're definitely doing this again" he slurred.

Marcus let go and smiled "You too Tony, you too."

The walk back home was pleasant; in a thoroughly traditional community very few people were to be seen out and about on a Sunday, and Marcus enjoyed a half mile of inner relief and peace interrupted only by the occasional dog-walker. As he crossed the threshold, his phone buzzed:

"just got home... alices just as thrilled as I am that youre getting out and about. Text us and keep us updated on whats going on. Me and the boys are out on Wednesday night if you fancy?"

Marcus text back. "might be good yeah. And as for keeping updated, Ill do that, therell be no need to ring me twice like this morning."

He slumped into the sofa and rested the phone on his chest, feeling more at peace than he had done for as long as he could remember. Maybe this was his watershed moment. Maybe this was where he could finally leave his days in the regiment behind and work towards doing something new with his life. He smiled and eagerly retrieved his buzzing phone.

"What? I didn't ring you twice"

Marcus sprang up and fumbled through some pizza boxes to find his house phone. It had a message. "Hi I'm Heidi Wade from the Guardian. I was wondering if you would be interested in talking to me about your time in the Special Forces?"