It was a Friday in late September, and Colin was making his way down to the bottom of Miss Eichmann's garden to where the group was meeting, through the tall uncut grass, past the forgotten-about barbecue, to a fairly large shed which inside walls were plastered with an array of maps, botanical drawings and an old magazine cutting of Charlie Dimmock suggestively brandishing a spade. It was lit by a central hanging lightbulb, but everyone always brought a torch with them, just in case of a crisis situation. Inside Colin could hear the low muttering of the group, as he drew closer a cat darted across his path. A cat which, as we shall eventually find out, has nothing to do with the plot. Opening the creaky wooden door and ducking into the dusty shed, Colin was greeted by around 9 or so men, all sitting dipping Hobnobs into mugs of tea. Lloyd wasn't partaking in this ritual and sat awkwardly in the corner, and Gordon just had a glass of milk. He thought Hobnobs had mind control drugs in them as well as the water supply but didn't make a thing of it.

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“Greetings fellow earth wanderer,” said Ernestas nasally, the evening's speaker. He always said that, it was a little annoying but everyone had just gotten used to it. Ernestas Bloom was a nice chap, very keen on alpine plants and the observation of crickets during mating seasons. He was giving a talk tonight on his recent expedition to Scotland, during which he fell down a hillock and broke his ankle. His leg was in a cast and there was a pair of NHS crutches lent against the wall of the shed. “Come in come in, take a seat Colin, we're just about to get started!” he was fiddling around with a late 90s projector, trying to get it in focus. Colin ducked in and took a seat on a plastic white garden chair next to Mike, who was cradling a can of bitter.

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“Alright Mike,” said Colin with a raised eyebrow nod, “got any more of those?”

“Nope,” grunted Mike in his weakened West Country accent, staring at the what appeared to be a slightly out of focus projected image of Ernestas in full walking equipment grinning in front of Ben Nevis. Mike turned realising he hadn't properly said hello to Colin, “Sorry, last one. Hobnob?” he offered forth a half eaten packet of biscuits.

Colin took two out of the pack and sat back, shifting his chair to get more leg room.

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“Right fellow humans! Its all ready. Shall we start? We've got lots to get through. Now I've documented all the types of rocks along the path to the top of Ben Nevis and have samples for the group to pass around.” Colin and Mike looked at each other, neither of them cared much for Ernestas' talks, but he'd been talking about it for months so they couldn't exactly miss it. They both took deep breaths, and the writer (me) skipped forward through the next hour and a half of photographs of rocks. You are welcome.

 

As the 'slideshow' came to an end, amidst the hand shakes, Klingon goodbyes and last minute Hobnob scoffing, Gordon shiftily slipped over to Colin and Mike. They both subtly looked him up and down as he peered over his own shoulder, making sure the other guys were beginning to leave.

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“Pssssst,” Gordon made the universal secret noise for 'hey you I'm being all secret and stuff like that' to them both... despite having their attention already, and standing a foot from their faces, “Guess what...”

“...what?” said both Colin and Mike in unison, expecting the usual from Gordon.

“I found it!” Gordon whispered all too loudly. Mike grumbled something under his breath.

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“Found what exactly?” replied Colin, talking over Mike's muttering. 

“Goodnight fellow earth wanderers!” grinned Ernestas as he ducked through the shed door, hobbling on crutches, “Great night wasn't it!” he waited for a reply as he knocked the swinging shed door with one crutch to keep it from closing on him. There wasn't one, so Colin took it upon himself to do so - just to break the awkwardness.

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“Yes! Yes great... great stuff thanks again!” Colin watches as Ernestas chuckles happily to himself as he leaves, and lets the rickety door close behind him. The clink of the catch on the door sparks Gordon to continue.

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“IT, COLIN! The very thing I've been looking for for years!” Gorden's eyes wide with madness. Colin thought for a moment, there were so many things that Gordon had mentioned in the past, so many things he obsessed about, it was hard to keep track. He guessed anyway.

“Um... the Cutlery of Alexander the Great?”

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“No no no no!” laughed Gordon out loud, “that's a myth... no!” His face suddenly snapped into a blank expression. He stared at Colin, with piercing eyes that made Colin feel slightly uncomfortable. Mike scratched his chin through his long beard and sighed, turning round to take a seat on his fold up garden chair. Gordon remained silent, which really was awkward. He then gestured to the corner of the shed, at Lloyd who was still there. Neither Colin or Mike had noticed him, he was so quiet. Gordon nodded at Lloyd and he stood up, and shuffled his way over, adjusting his vision to find eye contact with Colin. He seemed agitated, anxious. They'd seen him like this before but this time it felt different. Mike yawned and ate a Hobnob.

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“Show them,” Gordon said with a raspy voice to Lloyd, who promptly reaches into the pocket of his oversized Parka coat. He looks up, his eyes bulging through his thick glasses, his other hand swiftly wiping his nose. Slowly, he pulls his arm out of his coat, and holds out the contents. A scrap of used tissue falls to the ground, but that wasn't the item Gordon was talking about. In Lloyd's hand there was an object, wrapped in a large white handkerchief. Colin reaches out and carefully takes the object off Lloyd with both hands. He holds it carefully. It seems to give off heat, an anicient warmth seeping through the fabric.

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“Is it...?” Colin looked up at Gordon who was already nodding away with a wide eyed grin. 

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“Open it,” piped up Lloyd, who rarely spoke anyway so it only added to the significance of the moment. Colin carefully unwrapped the object and gazed at the contents. His heart stopped. It felt like Christmas, or his Birthday, or that time he was really hungry and found a murray mint in his old winter jacket pocket.

“What is it then,” said Mike, mouth full of biscuit, his attention on the Augest issue of Miniature Modeling Magazine. It took Colin a minute to reply, though to him it seemed much shorter. Gordon wasn't making shit up this time. He'd only bloody found it! Colin couldn't believe it! This was big, this was history in the making. If the legends were true, they'd all be rich, no they'd be legends themselves. Colin held it in his hands, staring, eyes wide with a huge stupid grin on his face. Mike looked up from his article on dry brushing for beginners, noticing the other three had been standing motionless for the past minute or so, apart from Lloyd, who was shining his torch out the window at a cat he thought he'd spotted. Mike grumbled and threw the magazine down and stood up, brushing the Hobnob crumbs from his beard off.

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“Colin?” Mike muttered. He stood behind him looking at the back of his head, then at Gordon who was grinning and clasping his hands together, nodding like a mad man. “...will one of you say something for fucks sake.” Mike took a step toward Colin and peered over his shoulder. He was about to swear again when he saw what it was Colin was holding. He stopped, frozen, staring at the same object they were all staring at. Apart from Lloyd. Who was staring at a cat.

 

“...fuck me.” Said Mike.