11.

We went through the various formalities of entering a prison - I let the Brig talk to people and sign things - and we were escorted through various doors. Some that were opened remotely, some with an ID badge carried by a prison guard, and some that were simply fire doors that could be pushed open.

The final door led us into a wooden-floored room that might have been intended as a badminton court but was now a plain rectangle with a raised platform at one side. You could imagine fifty prisoners getting together to receive some information, or enjoying a very small concert, or watching the World Cup final on a big screen.

There weren't currently enough seats for that, though. There were just five. One for me - off to the right. Another for Henri - dead centre. The Brig was to Henri's left, angled slightly away from the stage so he could keep an eye out for anyone who might wish to do me harm. Finally, two guards had decided to come into work early to watch. One of them leaked the story of what transpired in that room to ChunksTV, the so-called Chester fan who had got some traction with his instant reaction videos and hot takes, but it didn't bother me much. It all added to the 'He's done WHAT?!' legend.

So that was the scene - five men spread out in a large room. What of the mood?

I was fairly nervous. The Brig was wryly amused. The guards were ready for anything.

As soon as he'd taken his seat, Henri's demeanour had transformed. He'd gone from squealing man-baby to 'guy who has accidentally stumbled upon the location of Tom Cruise filming a stunt for his next film'. Like, you can't believe you're really about to see it, but there are cameras and motorbikes and Tom Cruise is being covered in gasoline and there's a guy with a flamethrower and you are right there! You are right there!

"Max," he said.

"No talking," I said. "Don't be rude." I crossed my legs and leaned back, but the chair was crazily uncomfortable. The prison was the best in the country by any metric, but it was still a prison. If the Daily Mail found out the inmates were treated well, there would be absolute fury and questions would be asked in parliament. I nearly whipped my phone out to text Beth a snarky comment, but decided to wait till I was on her podcast.

A face appeared to the right of the stage and immediately vanished. Two more faces appeared - I had the brief sensation of bulging, disbelieving eyes - and they, too, were gone before my brain had truly processed the image.

I knew Henri was bursting with anticipation. In his shoes, I'd have been bouncing off the walls waiting for kick off.

He didn't have too long to wait.

***

The lights dimmed a fraction. It would have been good if they'd gone out except on the stage, but, you know, prison. Daylight continued to stream in from the high windows. Distant thumps and yells spoke of the thousand people outside these walls but within other walls. I tried not to think about it.

A guy came out. He was a large dude, not bad looking, though I didn't like the way he'd sculpted his beard. I knew a local barber who would sort him out. Now, I don't want to minimise his importance and value as an individual, but this is going to get really complicated if I throw in too many names, so I'm going to call him - and the others - by their character names. To avoid the erroneous impression that dozens of people were involved - no. There were three.

QP: [Looking around, irritated.] Blast! Where are those blasted agents?

Henri reacted as though hit by lightning. His entire body stiffened and I genuinely thought he might topple sideways.

QP: [Checking his watch.] Blast! Late again, the scoundrels! Don't they realise how important this mission is?

Henri softened and was drawn towards the scene.

QP: [Paces left and right for a few seconds.] Don't they realise it's the year 3000?

Henri gasped, glanced at me - I pretended not to notice - and leaned forwards with his fingers cradling his chin.

QP: Oh, I hear them now. [Knock knock.] Yes, come in!

Two new actors came in, The first one was quite short and thin. He looked like he knew his way around a knife. He was wearing a huge Elvis wig that the Brig had procured. The other guy was tall and ginger and looked like he'd done a minor white collar crime.

QP: Blast it, boys, where have you been?

Horny: [In a shocking French accent.] I haf been looking for a spot with good phone signal. Ze coverage is terrible round here!

M: [In a shocking Manc accent.] Ee's bin windin' me up summat rotten, ee 'as. Some secret agent, ee is! Asking the guards how many bars they've got!

Horny: Per'aps if Max could stop killing them before they hanswer, we wouldn't need so much time.

M: We've got a time machine!

Horny: No, it's portals.

M: Same difference.

QP: Would you please stop your bickering for just one moment? We're very close to completing our mission.

M: It's been so long since the first movie I forgot what it was. Can we get a recap, Mr. Quarter Pounder?

QP: Gladly. I'm close to levelling up my Exposition skill.

Henri let out another little gasp.

QP: It's the year 3,000 and we're here to steal the secret of silk production from China.

The short guy playing Horny walked to a stereo and pressed play. The ginger Max went and picked up a large rectangle of white card. There was some text on the front that he kept hidden from us at first.

The music was a James Bond theme. It started dramatic, then got very swingy. Instead of Matt Monro's voice, we heard Emma's.

Emma: From China... with silk... I steal it for you...

As those words came out, the sign was revealed.

SILK! 2: From China With Silk

A Max Best Production

In association with the Max Best Players

Henri stood and applauded. The music ended abruptly - Emma had got bored of doing a Shirley Bassey impression, claiming that the song she was covering was 'boring ay eff' and she had 'better things to do'. Henri crashed onto his arse and said "ssh," to no-one in particular.

QP: Boys, gather round. It's time for the big battle scene that will get all our teenage viewers invested. Then we'll grab the treasure in a quieter scene full of witty banter between the two of you. As your quartermaster it's my job to make sure you're equipped for the challenges ahead. Are you ready?

Horny: Yes.

QP: Horny, I've got you something special.

Horny: It's pronounced Horn-AY.

Henri guffawed.

QP: Horny, I've got you these ninja stars.

M: Are you shuriken use 'em?

QP: Oh, very good, Max 77. You do get all the best lines.

Horny: This is unfair in more ways than I can list. What special weapon does he get?

QP: Max, for you I have these nunchucks.

M: Top. Wait, they look like grenades. And they're shaped like women who live in a convent.

QP: Yes. They're nuns and you chuck them. Nunchucks.

Horny: This script could use a punch-up.

M: You're in prison. Do you really want to start a punch up?

Horny: Here come the baddies!

QP minced away, stage left, while Horny threw imaginary ninja stars and Max lobbed grenades, covering his ears after doing so.

M: Yes! One-nil! Top result away from home. Get in!

Horny: [All but given up on doing the accent by now.] Oh, lordy lordy. I'm hit! [Dying cough.] Max. You must go on without me.

M: Don't talk shit. We've got a can of magic spray.

Horny: Don't waste it on me. [Cough.] I'm finished.

M: No, mate. First of all, you can't die just as I'm about to say the most important line of the movie. Shit's about to get thematic.

Horny: [Coughs.] I'm ready.

M: I'm Max Best and I will never leave you or abandon you just as we're on the verge of succeeding in our mission.

Horny: Okay. Spray me.

Max77 sprayed Horny, who continued to cough for a bit, then sprung to his feet.

Horny: I feel much better. Oh, look! I got two bars on my phone.

M: Yegads, there's the box with the secret of silk production inside. Let's open it and that's the end of act one.

Horny: Sounds good.

M: [Miming that there's a box.] Cool. Looks like a simple Hunt for Red October two keys turning simultaneously situation. I got the red one from beating the city boss and you got the blue one for helping that thirsty guy who needed a very specific drink.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Horny: That was a boring quest.

M: So, keys in. Just think, Horny, mate. We've come so far together and we're about to achieve our dreams. It's literally one tiny, tiny final step and we get a lifetime of happiness and contentment on the back of it. And I'm quite happy to come out and say it - nothing can stop us now!

Horny: Hang on, I'm getting a call. LuLu!

Horny walked away from the box, holding an invisible phone to his ear with a lovestruck grin on his face.

Horny: Yes, my precious, I'm in China. No, I didn't get you a souvenir because I'm undercover, remember? Buying you an ornamental fan would almost certainly result in my being detected, caught, and imprisoned. And prisons in China in the year 3000 are horrible compared to those in Cheshire in the year 2024. They don't even have multi-gyms!

This line got a huge response from the prison guards, which was gratifying.

M: Horny, for fuck's sake. Come and steal the silk. This was your fucking quest in the first place. I can't do your quest for you. What the shit?

Horny: [Not listening to Max.] No, it's in the cabinet under the sink. The kitchen sink. Well, there must be. I bought six packs. Have you checked the airing cupboard? Oh, that's very strange. No, you don't need to go anywhere. I'll do it. No, I want to do it. Let me do it! Perfect-a-ment! What? Oh, I've got an emergency escape portal. I'll use that. Yes, I'll be back home in five minutes. What? And some Hobnobs? Chocolate or plain? Ahahaha! I knew that!

M: Wait! You can't portal away - I'll be stuck.

Horny: [Distracted.] Let's finish this some other time, Max. Bye.

M: No! What!

Horny spun around, arms waving, until he was off stage to the right.

Max: Fuck that guy! What the hell, man! [Stomps.] So frustrating. We're both so close to what we want. Urgh. You know what? I wish that man had never been born.

The large actor came back on the stage, now wearing the only fake moustache the prison guards would allow in. It wasn't long enough to twirl, but he gave it a good try.

OM: Well, hello! Did I hear you make a wish?

M: Get stuffed, old man. I'm busy feeling sorry for myself.

OM: I'm pretty sure I heard you make a wish. You wanted to see what the world would look like if Horny Lie-Ins had never been born.

M: I said no such thing. Are you with the Chinese military or what? Hey, turn this key for me.

OM: It's very brave and noble, the way you keep trying to pursue your goals even though your friends and allies abandon you. I'll end act one now and when we return you'll be in a world without Horny.

M: Yeah, whatever.

Four of the audience members applauded as the actors went off the sides of the stage. Henri was the only holdout.

The actors didn't have time to mess about with proper mid-act breaks and it's not like there was a buffet of sausage rolls and orange squash to distract us. That was the only downside, really, of doing this play with a prison troupe. The alternative was hiring real actors and they tended to want to be paid, I'd discovered.

I thought the first act was pretty solid, but I had far, far less confidence in the second. The Brig had bagged me an hour with these guys and in that hour I had to tell them my concept and write the script. They'd obviously rehearsed it a couple of times and learned their lines but while the first act had come to me pretty easily, what with it being a continuation of Henri's Christmas play, the second act was much, much harder to write.

That was partly because I didn't really know what I wanted to say to Henri. All I knew was how I wanted to say it - through the medium of a play. I sort of hoped that would be enough to snap him out of his love-addled funk, but, yeah, I didn't think I'd really nailed the second scene. There were still some banging lines, though.

M: [Scratching his head.] All right. I'm back in Chester. Everything looks the same. What did that old man say? Said he was going to change something, didn't he?

Enter stage right, two Chester fans.

Fan 1: Hey, it's Max Best!

Fan 2: No way!

Fan 1: Max! I'm your biggest fan. You're a generational talent and you give my life structure and purpose and you've got a tight arse like two hot cross buns.

I blinked. I hadn't written that last part. Did these guys think they could improve my script? The nerve! Fortunately, that was the only addition to Act Two.

Fan 2: No, Max, I'm your biggest fan. I have ten cardboard cutouts of you in my living room - each one taken from a gif of you doing a double thumbs up. If I feel sad I run around in a circle and it looks like you're giving me a thumbs up and it makes me think that everything's going to be okay.

Fan 1: When I'm in bed with my wife I pretend to be a bad left back and she's Max Best and she humiliates me.

Fan 2: I've been to Turkey to get hair implants but on my knee cap and I've got a tattoo of your face there so it's like I've got a living tattoo!

M: Right, yeah, cool. Okay, see you later, guys. [He takes three paces away from the fans and throws his arms up.] Nothing's changed in the slightest!

The Brig roared at that one.

M: Right, let's go talk to Sandra Lane, my assistant manager.

Sandra: Hello, gaffer.

M: I'm really worried about this Dagenham match. Tough away tie and if we lose that's three in a row with two tough ones to come.

Sandra: What are you talking about? We're on a 33-match winning streak.

M: Wait what?

Sandra: Horny wasn't born, remember, so you used your budget to bring in a top striker for the level. Silky Steelson. He trains hard and he's a great example to the kids. They've been able to come into a winning team and get positive experiences and it's all gone perfectly. Well done, gaffer.

M: How do you know about Horny if he was never in this timeline?

Sandra: All I know is that he was a lazy son of a gun who never scored unless it was served on a plate and he was a yellow card magnet.

Henri's expression by now was utterly unreadable, but his eyes widened.

M: But this is no good. I made a promise to him that I'd help him reach his potential. It's been so motivational for me. I've worked really hard to make sure the staff and facilities were right.

Sandra: Seems like he didn't want to hold up his part of the bargain, gaffer.

M: In this case, by not being born? Okay. But in my timeline he helped me get to this point in my life. He helped me with the Chester Knights.

Sandra: In this timeline, you did it yourself. It wasn't that hard.

M: But he let me stay in his house in Darlington.

Sandra: In this timeline you ended up living in a windmill and when you weren't playing football you were having adventures.

M: That sounds top. But what about Dani? I never would have found Dani without him.

Sandra: It's weird but in this timeline you found her the next day.

M: How?

Sandra: You just did.

M: It sounds like in this world without Horny everything was much easier and now I'm a massive success and I should probably stay here.

Henri's head turned a few degrees in my direction, but his eyes stayed locked on the ginger Max.

Sandra: Yes. Stay here, it's fucking mint.

M: [Rubbing his arm.] I want my friend back though.

Old Man: Aha! End of Act Two - catharsis! I'm a genius. Cur-tain!

Now the applause was only from the guards and the Brig. Henri was sort of frozen, and I'd made myself sad. I sort of sat, limp, while the actors swapped wigs and moustaches and took sips of water.

When Act Three started, I sat bolt upright. It was clear from the off they weren't doing the version I had written. Mine ended with a monologue where Max77 threatened to kick Henri off the team, blasted him for stealing wages from fans in a deprived northern town, and ended abruptly with Max yelling 'you don't train, you don't play!'

Judge for yourself who wrote a better ending.

QP: Blast! Late again, the scoundrels! Don't they realise how important this mission is? Don't they realise it's the year 3000? Oh, here they are!

Horny: There's no phone signal around here.

[Pause.]

QP: Max, it's your line.

M: But... we've done this. We've been here before.

QP: I assure you it's the first time.

M: Oh, I see. But look, I know how this goes. We kill all the guards and get to the box with all the silk in it and this prick gets a phone call from his girlfriend and he fucks off.

Horny: Please do not be ridiculous. I am a twenty-goal-a-season secret agent. Quarter Pounder, give us our weapons.

M: No. I want to resolve this right now like a man. Not just wait and hope for the best but directly tell my friend how I feel.

The actors looked at me. The guards and the Brig looked at me. Henri... looked at me. His big, doe eyes sad and hurt before I'd even said anything.

I squirmed and talked to the actors. "Can you guys just read the lines I wrote for you, please?"

M: I'm going to tell my friend how I feel, now.

The Horny actor went to the side and came back with a large piece of card. He turned it around. It said: AUDIENCE PARTICIPATION.

Henri's sad eyes turned happy.

I put my head in my hands and scrunched up my face. What could I even say?

"Henri," I started. "You're letting everyone down. You're getting a lot of money to play football and that money's coming from people who don't have it to spare. They've got energy meters in their kitchens and they spend their winters cold. Always cold, cold to the bone, while you're taking massive boiling showers and driving fast cars and not giving them what they paid for."

M: I'm going to tell my friend how I feel, now.

Super annoying prison ginge!

"Fine. The team needs you. Your backup can't be the starter. That's not fair on him and you know it."

M: I'm going to tell my friend how I feel, now.

"Fuck me!” I searched inside for the words. “There's a lot of impressionable players at the club. You're a senior guy, now, and since I took you out of the team they've started to train properly. We're racing ahead at last and it's because you're not in the team. It makes me sad and frustrated that my mate is becoming an object lesson in how not to have a football career. We've got the chance to have an epic season but we need you. You were a huge part of the plans and you're virtually irreplaceable."

M: I'm going to tell my friend how I feel, now.

"I'm doing it, you twat!"

Horny: I don't want to hear from Max the football manager. I want to hear from Max, my friend. Max, my friend, who set up this whole charade instead of talking to me face to face.

M: I'm going to speak my inner truth, now.

Horny: Why don't you want me to be happy, Max?

"Guys," I said, dragging my hands down my face. "Max the football manager is Max the friend. I want him to be happy and him having perspective and not treating football like the be-all and end-all is healthy. I try to teach that. Don't I, Brig?"

"You do, sir."

"But he's fucking up his chance at happiness."

M: What do I mean?

"Will you quit that?" I got to my feet and walked away. Henri watched me as I came back. I found myself dividing my attention between the two Henris and pleading with the ginger Max. "Look. You can't go into a relationship as one thing and become another. That's a fucking recipe for disaster, isn't it? You can't be Henri the goalscoring warrior-poet when you're on a date and then turn into Overly Attached Girlfriend when you're actually together. There's no way it can last like this." I blew my cheeks and put my hands on my hips. "Henri's private life is none of my business."

"Go on, Max," said Henri. "I want to hear it."

"I'm worried about you. If you had the choice between football or Luisa I think you'd choose Luisa, and to me that's okay. Ideally you'd tell me right now so I could sign a replacement but that's by the by. I'm worried that if you give up football, you'll lose Luisa, too. I don't want to see you flame out and crash because I don't think I'll be able to help you, then. And you mean a lot to me and I want you to be part of what we're doing but this relationship has got you in a spin."

"What do you know of my relationship?"

"I know you take her to restaurants in a limo and you book concert halls where you're the only members of the audience and you send messages by skywriting instead of just texting her. I know you think you need to do a grand romantic gesture every day or you'll lose her. I know enough and I know Luisa enough to know that while she's probably flattered that you're doting on her so hard and making her into the sun you orbit, that's not what she wants."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I'm the sun," I said, simply. "I'm the sun for loads of people and it's not fun. It's hard work. Everyone else gets to bask in my glow, including Emma. When she's with me she's not the sun. She can be a moon. She likes being a moon. It's awesome being a moon. I'd love to be a moon, Henri. Luisa thought she was going to be a moon orbiting the great Henri Lyons but now she's the fucking sun and if she's the sun what's the fucking point of having you around?"

"You should write a self-help book. I'm sure a lot of people would buy it. At airports."

"Right. Great. Let me just spell it out to you. You're not playing for me again until you train properly. All you need to do is go to work from Monday to Friday. Two hours a day. You can't even stop thinking about her for two hours so you can do what you were born to do? That's not romantic. That's fucking stupid."

M: I agree with me.

QP: He's got a point, Henri lad. You should be able to be apart for a couple of hours.

Horny: It is sad to think that a thousand years from now, I still haven't learned work-life balance.

I went to retake my seat, leaning forward, elbows on my knees. Henri sat still for a while. Finally, he said, "That is the end of the audience participation."

So it had bombed. Failed. I waved my finger around as a signal the guys should finish. They got back into position and continued.

QP: Well done, agents. You've killed all the guards. You can go and open the treasure box together.

Horny: One moment. Max, why do you rotate goalkeepers? It's not a good idea. You should pick one and stick to him.

My jaw dropped open. I was being trolled by my own actors, now. "The fuck," I mumbled.

M: Okay. I'll stick to one goalkeeper like a proper manager. And I'll bin off Wes Hayward and Ziggy. They're rancid.

"You haven't even seen them play, you dick."

M: Here's the box. We've got the red key and the blue key. All we need to do is work together and we can achieve our goals. And if we do that, we will be able to say...

Together: It's a wonderful life!

The three actors bowed. I clapped, slightly less enthusiastically than the Brig and the guards, but Henri didn't move. Finally, he stood and approached the stage. One by one, he hugged them.

"Max," he said.

"Yes?" said me and the actor together.

"Come to me."

"Um," I said. I got onto the stage and glanced back. The Brig hadn't moved; he didn't think I was in any danger. "What are we doing, bro?"

Henri pointed to an empty spot. "We must open the box together," he said, and the actor playing Horny put his hand over his mouth to hide a gasp.

I felt a weird surge of emotion. The whole thing had been so mad. A Hail Mary pass. Had it really all worked out? "Why?"

He nodded to the invisible box. "You’re trying to stop me making grand romantic gestures by making a grand romantic gesture. You have spoken my language. All this time you have been snubbing me you have been preparing this wonderful play. I feel wooed. I feel seduced. I am the sun. Yes. I, Horny Lie-Ins, will be your sun." He nodded a few times. "I want to finish my quest. Let us open this box. And then..."

"Then?"

"Then I will sue you for intellectual property theft."

"Sorry, mate, but I think you'll find SILK! belongs to the world."

He smiled - light and warmth radiated from him. "Turn the key on three, two, one. Yes! At last, the secret of silk is in my hands. Perfect. Max, this was quite an experience. I will thank you properly later, but first I have to go and cancel a hot air balloon ride."

"Oh, hold on," said the Brig, stepping forward smartly. "If the tickets are transferable...? Ruth loves heights."

They walked away from the stage so they could negotiate that deal. I was left with the actors.

"It was a pretty big swing, rewriting my play," I suggested.

The large one didn't think so. "Look, Max," said the large actor. "You're a great guy and you are the sun to a lot of people in Chester. We wanted to help and we didn't think your final act was going to cut it. You can't bottle up your feelings and hope things magically get better."

"That's right," said the short guy. "It's like we prisoners always say. Better out than in."

I rolled my eyes. "Great line. All right, fellas. Thanks for your help. If you're out by Christmas you can do our play. If I'm still the manager by then."

"You will be," said the short guy, adjusting his wig.

"How do you know?"

"Becozz," he said, getting back into character for one last time. "I am Henri Lyons... and I've seen the future."