Twisted Love

gã|áàxw _Éäx by Alistair Canlin

Published by IndependentBook.com, May 2003.

gã|áàxw _Éäx

Table of Content:

THE SMELL ....................................................................................... 3 IFS AND BUTS................................................................................. 90 LAST BREATH ............................................................................... 155 TWO MEN IN A LIFT...................................................................... 259

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THE SMELL She sat on the sofa, staring blankly at the television. She was lost in her own rage. She knew he was up to something, she just couldn’t prove it. Some smarmy presenter on the telly was smiling condescendingly at a young girl, telling her that the choice is up to her. Choices, choices, there was always bloody choices, this time she’d decided she was going to confront him tonight. When he got home she was going to kill him. It had been the other night, when he had been sleeping she went through his trouser pockets. She didn’t find anything, but there was a funny smell, some sort of rich tarty perfume. It was then that she knew that he was seeing another woman. She nearly throttled him there and then, but she thought better of it. She wanted to see him stew for a while. See what sorts of excuses he would come up with. See how much she could make him squirm. Boy she would make him suffer. Make him pay for her life becoming mundane and boring. She’d had dreams when she was younger, but then she met him. At first he was charming and sophisticated, she used to boast to all her mates about him, about how handsome, how wonderful and caring he was. Her friends used to rib her; they used to joke about how besotted she was with him. She used to pretend that it offended her, but it really made her feel

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gã|áàxw _Éäx good inside, it made her feel as if she was important, or even better than the others. Her mother had blazing rows with her when she decided to move out, but no matter how much they argued it only made her feel stronger about moving out. It’s funny, but they hadn’t really talked since she moved out. They sort of just drifted apart. She hadn’t missed her mum until now, but now she felt she needed to talk to her mum more than anyone else, but she knew exactly what her mum would say. “I told you so Jemma, I told you so.” That’s what she’d say, that’s what she always said. At first when she moved out it was fun. It was as if they were kids again, they would have fun. They wouldn’t let each other out of their sight and of course the best part of all was the sex, oh boy the sex. They used to make love to each other all night long. Nothing like nowadays, when she’s lucky if it’s more than thirty seconds, but what she really missed now is the fun. They never have any fun anymore. Reminiscing about the past made her feel lonely. Sitting in front of the telly with nobody for company but a half empty bottle of gin. She missed her friends. She didn’t seem to have any friends anymore. It was as if when she became married everybody disappeared. She was forced to like his friends and their wives. God how she hated those stupid vacuous cows. They would just sit there and listen to every word their husbands said, nodding their heads sagely as if they actually understood what they were saying, no Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx matter what stupid or ridiculous thing they were talking about. She wanted a bit of excitement. No, she just wanted an interesting stimulating conversation that didn’t have anything at all to do with football, but sadly such conversations would never come along. After a while she started to make up excuses as to why she couldn’t go to these stupid get togethers. “I promised I’d phone my mother tonight.” “There’s an interesting program on the telly tonight.” “I said I’d meet Carol, from work, tonight.” Eventually she would just use the most boring and mundane excuse she could think of, “I’m washing my hair tonight” But the funny thing was, no matter how implausible the excuse; he would always fall for it and go on his own. Thinking back on it, that was when she should have got suspicious. He accepted her excuses far too readily, but at the time it was just a relief not to go. To have him out of her hair and to have the place to herself. Now that was all she ever seemed to have, the place to herself, he was never in; she never even had to give any excuses nowadays. She could hear him putting his key into the front door, there was a rustling, a light thudding and then the door was closed. “Evening love, it’s only me.” He shouted from the hallway. God how she hated him shouting that. Every bloody night he came in, he would always shout the same thing. If only it wasn’t him, then maybe things might be a little bit more interesting. She could

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gã|áàxw _Éäx hear him hanging up his jacket, any minute now he would walk in and ask what’s for tea. He walked into the room and slumped down on the sofa, “What’s for tea then love?” God she could set her watch by him, she sat there trying to control her anger, “Nothing.” She mumbled. “What?” He raised an eyebrow, not sure if he had heard her correctly. “It’s in the oven.” He got up and walked into the kitchen. Why is it that she would spend the entire day wishing that somebody else was in the house, but when he came home she wished that she was all on her own again. “So what should I do with it?” He shouted from the kitchen. “I know what you could do with it, you big git.” She mumbled to herself, “Just turn the oven on” She shouted back. She could hear him mumble and groan as he fiddled with the oven. God she was going to have to do this for him as well. She got up out of here seat and stormed into the kitchen. She didn’t look at him, she just walked past him and turned the temperature dial on the oven and it hummed into life. “Thanks.” He mumbled sheepishly. She didn’t acknowledge him; she just walked past him and took up her position in front of the television. She was glad for the noise of Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx the oven, as it stopped her from listening to his inane witterings from the kitchen. Unfortunately it didn’t last long. She could hear the chinking of cutlery and plates, then he walked into the room and sat next to her on the sofa. “What you watching?” He said with a mouthful of crisps. She shrugged her shoulders; she wanted to kill him. To hit him. To cause him some pain. She wanted to confront him about the other woman, but she just didn’t know where to start. “Dunno?” She shrugged her shoulders. He sat there munching from a packet of crisps that he had brought through from the kitchen. She watched him from the corner of her eye. God she wanted to hit him. To shove those crisps down his throat, but all she could say was, “Nice day at the office dear?” “Wasn’t bad.” He droned, “You know Jerry from the office, course you do, well he took us to the pub at lunch time and he was telling us that him and Linda, you remember Linda don't you, yeah ‘course you do, well anyway they went to . . . .” She stopped listening, she couldn't care less about Jerry from the office, he was probably a shallow self-centred person, just like everybody else that worked at his office. Linda though, she thought she could remember a Linda, if she’s the same Linda then she was all right, at least she was someone she could talk too.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx He was still wittering on, something about a stripper and an inflatable woman, but she was letting her mind wander. She was thinking about the first time she met Dave. Dave was the window cleaner, he did all the houses in the estate, but for some reason she had invited him in for a coffee. He’d probably thought his luck was in, or something, but all she wanted to do was talk. She didn’t care what they were talking about; it was just the fact that he was a different face, not one of the usual crowd that would come to her house. Eventually they struck up a friendship. Dave seemed to enjoy talking to her, and it was quite a change for her because he would actually listen to her. That seemed to be the whole point to their friendship the fact that they would talk and each would listen to the other. Always at the same time. Two o’clock on the dot, every Tuesday. Dave would ring the bell and she would invite him in and they would have a coffee, and then talk. Sometimes they would talk for an hour, sometimes just a few minutes, but she came to enjoy and look forward to their talks. But one Tuesday Dave didn’t come. She sat waiting, but there was no sign of him. She put it down to him being on holiday, but two months passed and still no sign of him. Eventually she plucked up the courage to phone his firm. She was horrified to find out that he had apparently been on his way to her house one evening. Flowers in hand he had been crossing the road outside the shops, just down the road from her house. As he stepped out onto the road a speeding car came round the corner and Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx knocked Dave down. He was rushed to hospital, but he never regained consciousness. It was as if a close relative had died. She was distraught, she became moody. Her husband couldn’t understand why she had become so introverted. She couldn’t talk to him, he wouldn’t understand, he never knew Dave, he would probably fly off the handle. So she kept it to herself, she would think of Dave fondly whenever she had a quiet moment. “Are you listening to me?” “Eh what?” She came back to reality with a start. “You were miles away.” “Sorry, you were saying?” She smiled lamely. There was the sound of a small bell ringing from the kitchen, “Oh, that’ll be my dinner ready.” He got up and left. “Saved by the bell.” She mumbled to herself. She got up and walked into the hallway, she wandered over to where he had hung his coat. She could smell that tarty perfume on the jacket. She could feel her anger rising, she plunged her hand into the jackets pockets. She didn’t know what she would find; she didn’t want to know what she would find. She felt something in the pocket and pulled it out. It was just a piece of paper; she turned it over in her hands. It was one of those fliers for a club or a pub, a bad drawing of a scantily clad girl and the words ‘Special Girls Nite’ written across it.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Was this where he met her? Was this where he took the other woman? She memorised the address of the club, she would find out about it later. She quickly stuffed the paper back into the pocket and walked back into the living room. He was sitting there watching the television with his dinner sitting on his lap, the fork was just coming out of his mouth and he was chewing lazily, she couldn’t stand watching him. She sat down next to him, trying hard not to look at him. She could hear him chewing and slavering as he ate his meal, she sat quietly and built up her anger, thinking of different ways of hurting him. She imagined running him over in the car. Pushing him down the stairs. Smashing his head in with his beloved golf clubs. She was still thinking these violent thoughts as she lay in bed with him snoring beside her, staring at the ceiling her mind was going berserk, thinking all sorts of useless thoughts. Tomorrow was the date on the nightclub’s flier, so tomorrow would be when he’d meet the other woman. Eventually she went to sleep, but only after she promised herself that she’d find out what he husband was up to. The next morning she made breakfast as usual and then kissed him goodbye as he left for work. A few minutes after he left she collected her car keys and coat and walked out of the house. She opened the garage and got into her car. She wasn’t that used to driving, her husband had bought her the car as a birthday present a couple of years back, but she didn’t use it much. She drove the car

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gã|áàxw _Éäx carefully out of the driveway and drove off in the direction of her husband’s work. She parked the car across the road from his office and waited. And waited, and waited. Eventually, when it was nearly dark, people started to file out of the building. She didn’t see her husband coming out, but she noticed that a large woman was hanging about the door of the building. The woman was furtively glancing about, as if making sure that nobody was watching or that nobody else was coming out of the building. When the woman was finally satisfied she walked gingerly to her car and got in. It took a few seconds to register, but she suddenly realised that the woman was getting into her husband’s car and driving it away. She stared in amazement as the car drove away. Suddenly she came to her senses, started her car and followed after the quickly disappearing car. Was this who he was having an affair with, this poor excuse for a woman? She shook with rage. The car seemed to be leading her on a wild goose chase; it seemed as if it was weaving in and out of nearly every street, as if the woman driving it believed she was being followed. She dropped further back from the car, fearing that the woman had seen her, but after a short while she noticed the car pulling up and stopping. She parked the car across the street and watched in the rear view mirror. The lady in the car waited for a few seconds, checked

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gã|áàxw _Éäx herself in the mirror then got out and started walking down the street. She waited until the woman rounded the corner, then she got out of her car and ran to the corner. She peered round and saw the woman walking quickly down the street. She came round the corner and followed her. She kept following her until the woman turned and walked into a club. She slowly walked up to the club and looked at the sign above the door, she recognised the name as that of the flier that she’d found in her husband’s pocket. Maybe this was where they met? Maybe this was where they’d arranged to meet tonight? Maybe he was waiting in there for her? Maybe if she went in then she'd catch them at it, or maybe there was some perfectly rational reason for all his strange behaviour. Maybe this was just a business meeting. Maybe she was just being paranoid. Well, there was only one way to find out. She took a deep breath and walked into the club. It took a little while for her eyes to adjust to the gloom, it was dark outside yes, but the gloom inside had a red haze to it, which created a seedy oppressive atmosphere. She walked towards the bar and climbed onto one of the stools. “What you avin’.” The barman asked. “Gin and tonic.” She said absent mindedly. She looked round the bar trying to find her husband. She couldn’t see him but she did see the woman that came in his car talking to some tall, burly looking

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gã|áàxw _Éäx women. She watched them talk, there was something strange about these women, but she just couldn’t place it. She waited for a short while until the others had walked away from her, then she got up from the table and walked over to her table. “Mind if I sit here?” “Eh, no.” The woman said in a deep voice. When their eyes met there was a sparkle of recognition, but she just couldn’t place where she had seen her. “Don’t I know you?” The woman tried to hide her face behind her hand, “Eh no I don’t think so.” “There’s something awfully familiar about you. Are you sure we haven’t met?” The woman coughed and continued to hide behind her hand, shaking her head vigorously. Just then a tall lady, with very bad makeup and a pock marked face came up to the table and in a man’s voice, “What’s this Mike, bringing the missus along?” She stared in astonishment at the woman across the table, “Mike?” “Oops.” The tall lady said and walked embarrassedly away. “Mike?” “Look . . . I can explain.” He stammered.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Explain! Explain!” She couldn’t think straight, “What’s there to explain. My husband dresses up in women’s clothes and parades about in seedy clubs. I mean what’s wrong with that.” She shouted sarcastically. “Look Jemma, I was going to tell you, honest. I just couldn’t find the right time.” “God Mike, you think there would’ve been a right time to tell me this.” She shook her head. “Well I . . . Err.” “Look at you Mike.” She laughed, relieved at the fact that there wasn’t another woman, “You make a bloody ugly woman.” Mike looked at himself and started to laugh, “You’re right I do.” “Mind you.” She pointed over at a fat man, who was squeezed into a short black dress that looked as if it was causing him serious injury, “At least you don’t look as bad a him.” Mike laughed, “What about him?” He pointed at another. Jemma burst into near hysterics. She wiped the tears away from her eyes, “Tell you what, come with me.” She stood up; Mike stayed seated, unsure what was happening. “Come on.” She walked over to the ladies room; Mike got up and nervously followed her in. Jemma reached into her handbag and produced a handkerchief, “Let me give you a bit of advice.” She took Mike over to Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx the mirror and started to wipe away the makeup with the handkerchief, “You don’t have to apply it so thick, look I’ll show you.” She wiped the makeup off his face and reached back into her handbag and pulled out a smaller bag full of makeup and started to apply it to Mike’s face. First the foundation powder, then a light bit a blusher on his cheeks, some subtle eyeliner. Almost finished she brought out the lipstick. “Jemma, I don’t know what to say.” “Shh, you want this properly don’t you?” “Yes, but . .” “Then shut up while I finish.” She finished putting the lipstick on, then she turned him round and made him look at himself in the mirror, “There, what do you think?” “I . . . It’s beautiful.” Jemma peered over his shoulder looking at the reflection; “You know something. If I was a bloke I might just fancy you.” “Get out of here you dirty cow.” He laughed. They hugged each other for what seemed to them to be an age. “Oh just one more thing.” “What’s that?” “Change your perfume dear, it makes you smell like a tart.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx FIVE YEARS, TWO MONTHS AND FOURTEEN DAYS

A shabby figure wandered into the bar, he surveyed what lay before him, the shuffled slowly forward and took up a seat at the bar. The barman stopped cleaning a glass with a grubby cloth and strode over to the man. “What you ‘avin?” The barman asked abruptly. “Whiskey.” The man didn’t look up. The barman reached up for a glass, turned round and pushed it up against the optic. When he’d finished poring the measure he placed the glass in front of the man. The man reached into his pocket, produced a five-pound note and placed it on the bar. The barman took the note and walked off to the cash register. He returned moments later with some change. The man stared at the change, as the barman left it on the counter, as if it were some sort of mysterious object. The man was lost, deep in thought. He stared, and stared, and stared at the money. “Cheer up mate, it might never happen.” A bloke who was too cheerful for his own good sat down beside him. “Uugh?” The man grunted. “It might never happen.” The bloke said cheerily.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “She’s left me.” The man said gloomily. “Oh.” The bloke said uncertainly, realising that he’d just put his foot in it, right up to his neck. “She’s bloody left me!” The man wailed. “A drink for my friend here.” The bloke said guiltily to the barman, wishing to himself that he’d never opened his big gob. The barman duly presented another whiskey in front of the man. “Thanks mate.” The man finished off his first drink. “It’s Bob.” The bloke said, “Please call me Bob.” “Thanks Bob.” The man said. He could see that Bob was waiting expectantly, “It’s Peter, Peter Hall.” Both men shook hands. “Who’s left you?” Bob asked, “If you don’t mind me asking.” “My wife, Holly.” Peter sniffed. Looking as if he was ready to burst into tears. “Been married long?” “’Bout five years.” Peter said, “Five years, two months and fourteen days to be exact, but who’s counting.” “That’s tough.” “Tell me about it.” Peter looked as if he was miles away; “I met her on holiday you know.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Oh aye.” Bob said, but Peter never heard, he was away in dreamland.

*****

Six years, five months and twenty-two days earlier, Peter sat outside a cafe in the middle of Madrid. Most of the other tables were occupied, with a mixture of locals and tourists. Peter was sitting by himself; sipping coffee and watching the world go by. His thoughts were interrupted when a shadow came across his eyeline. He looked up to see what was blocking the sun. Two young girls were standing nervously in front of the table. “Do you speak English?” One of them said in a slow deliberate voice, as if talking to a small child. Peter nodded. “Oh thank God for that.” She said in her normal voice, “Is it okay if me and me friend sit here?” Again Peter just nodded. The two girls sat down quickly at the table. One of the girls tried to draw the attention of one of the waiters, but without success. Peter waved his hand in the air and one of the waiters came over quickly.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “I’ll have another coffee Ramón” He said to the waiter, “And whatever these ladies are having.” “Certainly senór Peter.” The waiter smiled a dazzling white smile and took the girl’s order. “He speaks pretty good English.” One of the girls commented after Ramón had left. “That’s because he went to school in England, he has an English father and a Spanish mother.” Peter explained, “I’ve known him since we were kids, we used to go to school together.” “Oh.” One of the girls said in surprise. They all got chatting and hit it off like a house on fire. “My name’s Holly by the way.” Said one of the girls, “And this is Sarah.” Both of them had wonderful smiles, Peter didn’t quite know why, but he found himself attracted to both of them. Before he knew what was happening, Peter found himself volunteering to show them round the city. Even more to his surprise they both accepted without hesitation. Over the next few days Peter showed them the sights, the churches, the museums, the cafes, the restaurants and even a few nightclubs, which was a surprise to Peter, because he didn’t really like clubs. Subconsciously he must really have been trying to impress them.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx On their last night in Madrid, Peter took them to a fancy restaurant. After gorging themselves on the wonderful food they sat round the table contentedly drinking coffee. “So where abouts is it you’re from?” Peter kicked off the conversation. “Manchester.” Sarah said. “How? Where are you from?” Holly asked, staring deep into Peter’s eyes. “Well it’s kind of a long story.” Peter smiled. “Oh, you’re going to have to tell us now, you’ve got us interested.” “Are you sure?” “Go on.” they both chided him. “Well, I was born in Dundee, but when I was four my family moved to Glasgow, then . . .” “Oh, oh. Sounds like were going to get his whole life story.” Holly joked. “Well you did ask.” Peter pretended he was in a huff, “But if you don’t want to know then I won’t bother.” “No, no. I’m sorry to have interrupted, please carry on.” Holly said, in mock seriousness. “Okay then where’d I got to?” “Glasgow.” Sarah helped him out.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Right, okay, yeah. When I was four we all moved to Glasgow.” “All?” Holly interrupted. “My Mum and Dad and my two sisters. Okay? Can I continue?” Holly nodded. “After Glasgow we then moved to Newcastle, then eventually, to cut a long story short, we ended up in London.” “So what you doing in Madrid?” “Well I try and spend a month a year, two if I can afford it, I spend most of my time with Ramón and his family, just soaking up the sun.” “Sounds like an easy life, if you can get it.” “Believe me Holly, it’s the only way to live.” “If only, eh?” Holly laughed with Sarah. As the night wore on they got to know each other better. They ended up in a small taverna in one of the side streets. It was quite busy, but had a friendly atmosphere. Sarah decided to leave them when she saw a group of lads come in. She proudly announced to Peter and Holly that she was going for one final fling before she went back home. Holly and Peter couldn’t help but laugh as they watched Sarah leave arm in arm with one of the lads. There was an awkward silence between the two of them. Finally Holly broke it. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Peter?” “Mmm?” “Would you be willing to . . . Err . . .” Holly asked nervously. “What? It’s alright, you can ask.” “Would you spend the night with me?” Peter didn’t need to reply, he stood and took Holly by the hand and led her out of the place. The memory of that night stayed with Peter forever. Whenever he felt lonely or sad he would remember that night and it would always bring a smile to his face. In the morning Peter took them both to the airport. Sarah kept talking constantly, going on and on about this great guy she’d met last night. They stood in the airport saying their goodbyes. Sarah was anxious to leave. Holly kissed Peter and placed a slip of paper in his pocket and whispered, “Call me.” All Peter could do was smile and nod. He waved goodbye and watched them walking away. He stayed there until he’d seen the plane take off and fly away.

*****

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Peter spent the next few weeks, before he had to return home, walking around in a daze, living off the memory of that night. His friends noticed a change in him when he returned home to England, but they just put it down to Peter being Peter. Every time he closed his eyes he could see Holly’s face, in fact, everywhere he looked he thought he could see her. Eventually he rummaged through his stuff and found the piece of paper with her number on it. After a day and a half of debating and deciding, he found he could put it off no longer. He plucked up the courage and phoned her. He waited for what seemed like an agonisingly long time until finally the phone was answered. He didn’t recognise the man’s voice that answered. “Eh . . . Hello . . . Eh, could I speak to Holly?” He asked nervously, hoping that he hadn’t dialled the wrong number. “Yeah sure. Hold on a sec and I’ll just get her.” The voice replied. He waited until. “Eh . . . Hello?” His heart jumped as he heard Holly’s voice. “It’s me.” He said cheerily, “Peter.” There was a moments pause, which seemed like ages to him. All sorts of thoughts ran through his head. Had she forgotten him?

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Was the voice that answered her husband? He didn’t know. He felt like he was having a panic attack, he could feel his chest tighten, his face turn red, he was struggling for breath. “Oh aye yeah.” Holly chirped, “How are you?” He felt his chest slacken, he could breath. She remembered him! She remembered him! His head was screaming. “Oh fine, you know how it is.” Was all he could manage to say. “Good, good. I’ve been waiting to hear from you for ages.” He couldn’t believe it; he just couldn’t believe it. “Is that you just back from Spain?” She sounded excited, “Is that why you haven’t called?” “Yeah.” Was all he could managed. “Cor! All that time out there. All that sun.” She said dreamily. They carried on with small talk for a while and by the time Peter had hung up he’d arranged to see her in Manchester. He was on cloud nine. No, he was higher than that. It felt more like cloud nineteen or maybe even higher.

*****

Over the next few months they met on several occasions. Each time they got on better and better, learning more about each other.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx After their sixth date Peter found himself proposing to Holly. He went down on bended knee and everything. He had on him a smile bigger than a Cheshire cat for weeks, after she said yes. The wedding was a glorious affair. All their families were there. Sarah was there; even Ramón and some of his family came over from Madrid. It was the happiest day of their lives.

*****

“So why'd she leave you?” Bob asked, ordering a whiskey for each of them. “There hangs a tale.” Said Peter, starting to feel the effects of the whiskey. “Well?” Bob shook Peter, anxious to hear the outcome of the tale. “No I can’t talk about it anymore.” Peter shook his head. “Aaw come on man.” Bob pleaded, “You’ve got this far. It’ll do you good to talk about it.” “Well it turns out, she was sleeping with Ramón.” Peter said, close to tears. “What your best friend, the one from Spain?” Peter just nodded.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “That's low.” Bob shook his head, “Man that’s low.” “Tell me about it.” Tears were now visibly welling up in Peter’s eyes, “Turns out it started on the day of the wedding, a final fling, sort of. Only it turned out to be more than a fling.” “You mean it’s been going on since the day you got married.” Bob was amazed and shocked. “Yep, right from day one.” “Jesus man!” Bob shook his head, “When did you find out?” “Only a few days ago.” Tears trickled slowly down Peter’s cheeks; “Ramón had come over for a few weeks holiday. I should have known something was up then. ‘Cause he hardly ever comes to England, or so I thought. Anyway, I came home early one afternoon, to get things ready for a party we were planning, and I caught them at it. Fucking away, without a care in the world, in my own bloody bed.” Bob shook his head and ordered another round of drinks. “Turns out he’d been coming over regularly while I was away at work. Seems they rather enjoyed each others company.” Peter laughed despite himself. “So what’d you do? Are you gonna divorce her or what?” “He’s welcome to her, I never want to see the fucking bitch again.” Peter said bitterly. “Yeah, I can understand that.” “You know what the funny thing is though?” “What’s that?” Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “I think I still love her.” Peter stared at the bottom of his glass, as if it held some sort of mystical secret. Bob took this as his cue and stood up, he patted Peter on the back and wished him luck. Peter waved nonchalantly, now seemingly unaware of anybody’s presence. Bob continued to walk out of the bar, as he came through the door he passed a young lady, that looked remarkably like Holly as Peter had described her. “Maybe it’s Holly, and she’s come to apologise and make up.” He thought, “Perhaps not.” he shook his head and dismissed the thought as soon as it entered his head. As he walked up the street he turned to look back at the bar, in time to see the young lady enter. Maybe?

A COWARD AT HEART

She moved slowly, smoothly and rhythmically. I just lay back, with a huge smile across my face, moving in unison, we were like one. She emitted the odd little grunt and groan, which turned me on even more. She started to move faster, her quickening rhythm making me arch my back. I could feel the pressure build; I let out a long low moan. She arched back and cried out, then collapsed

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gã|áàxw _Éäx forward on top of me. Breathing deeply, she rolled off and lay staring up at the ceiling. I could hear music coming from somewhere; I closed my eyes and tried to picture myself inside the tune. “Are you up yet, you lazy sod!” There was a thumping on the door. I groaned and reluctantly opened my eyes, and glanced over to my side, there was nobody there. Damn! It’d been a dream. Damn! Damn! Damn! My Mum poked her head round the door, “Are you up?” “Yeah, yeah.” I groaned, “I’m up.” She disappeared back behind the door. Oh well, another fun and exciting day. I don’t know why Mum still woke me up in the morning? I’d lost my job over a month ago and still hadn’t found anything else. So there was no real reason for me to get up, I mean, what am I going to do. I’ll just end up watching daytime television or something equally brain numbing. Reluctantly I got out of bed and got dressed. As I walked down the stairs I had a strange feeling. I don’t know, maybe today might be different; maybe something good might actually begin to happen.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx I wandered into the kitchen. There they were the motley crew. My Mum, Dad, my two elder sisters, Jo and Sally, and my younger brother Neil. “Mornin’.” My Dad doesn’t even look up from his paper as he says this. “Dad.” That’s about the most we ever say to each other. I always feel that both of us are itching to say more, but we never do. Neil is doing his usual, throwing some sort of tantrum. Mum’s paying no attention to him, she’s grown used to him and has given up. This leaves Jo and Sally to try and calm him down. Jo is twenty-three and Sally is nineteen, they always get fed up being grouped together. It’s never Jo do this, or Sally do this, it always seems to be, the girls will do that. They never seemed to be considered as separate individuals, Mum and Dad always seem to refer to them as the girls, it drives them mad, but Mum and Dad never seem to notice that they’re doing it. I get myself a bowl of corn flakes and sit down at the table. Neil suddenly stops his tantrum and stares at me. This drives Jo and Sally mad, they’ve obviously been trying for ages to get him to shut up. It’s a little disconcerting to have a six-year-old stare at you while you’re trying to eat, so I pull a face and he jumps off his stool and hides under the table. “Right I’d better be going.” Dad folds up his paper and stands up.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Bye then love.” Mum pecks him on the cheek and returns to doing the dishes as Dad leaves without saying goodbye to any of us. Jo leaves to go to her work; Sally disappears off to college. Leaving Mum, Neil and me in the house. Nothing is said between any of us, I just sit and munch my way through my corn flakes, until Mum comes up to me and tells me she’s taking Neil to school. I hear the front door close, the house is silent, I finish my corn flakes and lean back in the seat. Oh well, another fun day awaits. The letterbox rattles, as the postman shoves the mail through. I get up and stride over to the door and picked up the letters. I flicked through them, junk mail for Mum, brown envelopes for Dad, a couple for Jo and miracle upon miracle two letters for me. One had an official looking postmark; I recognised it as being the logo of a company that I had applied to work for. The other was hand written I didn’t recognise the writing. I sat down on the stairs and opened the official looking envelope, I took out the letter and started to read it: -

Dear Mr Robertson

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Thank you very much for your interest in the position that was advertised. We received many hundreds of applications for the position and your application was given very serious consideration, but unfortunately we had to come to a decision from all the applicants. It is with great regret that I have to inform you that your application was not successful. I would, however, like to take this opportunity in wishing you all the best in your search for employment.

Yours

Arthur Miles (Managing Director)

“Same as usual.” I screwed up the letter and tossed it over my shoulder in disgust. I fingered the other envelope; the postmark was smudged, so I couldn’t even work out where it was from. I was just about to open it when the doorbell rang; I stuffed it into my back pocket and opened the door. Standing there in all his glory was Dell, wearing a pair of grubby baggy jeans, a long psychedelic T-shirt that nearly reached his Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx knees, on his head he had a woolly hat and perched on the hat were a pair of Ray Band sunglasses. “Hey man, what’s going on.” He swayed as he spoke. “Nothin’ much.” “You comin’ then?” “Okay.” I went and got my denim jacket and wrote a note for mum, ‘Gone out, back soon.’ And stuck it on the front door, “Right then, where too?” “I dunno, I thought we’d just hang.” “Sorry?” It always made me laugh how Dell would use Americanisms, I always sounded like a pratt when I used them, but somehow Dell seemed to get away with it. “You know, just sort of hang about down the precinct or something.” “Well I don’t have anything more important to do.” “The precinct it is then man.” We walked off, well I walked, Dell sort of bounced. I think he’d been watching too much telly, he acted like some sort of black homeboy, but he’d actually lived round this area all his life and has never been anywhere near America. The precinct was a desperate place, it was basically a shopping centre without a roof, loads of little shops and the odd supermarket, but it was the only place for people our age to hang out. Sure we all

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gã|áàxw _Éäx got dirty looks from old ladies, but we didn’t care, we were just doing our own thing and no old trout was going to stop us. The others were already there when we arrived, Bazz, Tommo, Big Eck, Mac, Leslie, Claire, Tina and Diane. Dell ran at them like a mad bull, all the guys slapped him on the back, greeting him like a returning hero. “Hiya.” I waved to Bazz and Diane, who were a bit of an item now, but didn’t really want anybody to know. Funny thing was though, we all did, even Mac, who usually had difficulty remembering where he was. Bazz raised his hand, but said nothing, Diane just nodded. Now they were the epitome of cool. Every one of us wanted to be like them. Leslie, Claire and Tina giggled behind their hands, making secret remarks to one another, as they usually did. Tommo and Big Eck were involved in a heated discussion about football. Mac just sat staring off into space, humming a tune to himself, or I think it was a tune, he may just have been moaning or even trying to communicate. “So Al, what do you think?” Big Eck turned to me. “Eh?” “About the game? Who’s gonna win United or City?” “I dunno, United I guess.” I really hadn’t a clue, I didn’t follow football much, sure I liked it, but my attention span is far less than

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gã|áàxw _Éäx forty-five minutes, never mind ninety. I preferred edited highlights; you know the goals and that. “See, told you Tommo.” Big Eck cried, “United’ll batter City.” Tommo just shrugged, he knew better than to push it with Big Eck. It’s a matter of legend now that one guy who called Big Eck by his real name (Eric, if you were interested) ended up with a fractured skull, a collapsed lung and a broken leg. So no one was brave enough nowadays to argue with him. I could understand the logic in that. “So what's going down man.” Dell asked Bazz. Bazz looked at him quizzically, “Nothing much mate.” “Oh.” Dell shrugged disconsolately. “Have you been to that new record shop that's opened?” I asked, in an attempt to sound cool. “Naa.” Bazz sounded genuinely interested, “What’s it called?” “Indigo Prime. Or something poncy like that.” I tried to sound as if I wasn’t really interested. “Mmm.” Bazz scratched his chin, as he often did when he was thinking or at least I though he was thinking, he might just have been scratching. He didn’t say any more so I took the subject as being dropped. Bazz stood up and started to wander off, the others took this as their cue and followed him. I tagged along at the back, somewhat reluctantly. Tina walked alongside me, she’d been trying to hit on me

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gã|áàxw _Éäx for a couple of weeks now, but I pretended that I was oblivious to her advances. It wasn’t that I wasn’t interested, it’s just that it was Tina, know what I mean. We ended up outside the record shop, whatta ya know, maybe Bazz had been listening to me after all. Bazz went inside the shop; we all followed like a flock of sheep. The shop was quite dark inside; it wasn’t like one of these modern bright shiny shops, when you stepped inside this place it was like walking into another world. Eerie atmospheric music filled the air. It sent a shiver down my spine. The others milled about aimlessly, I became engrossed, flicking through each and every CD that was there. It’s funny how we still call it a record shop, or if you’re American, record store, when there’s not a record in sight, just these shiny silver discs. Not that I’m complaining, I mean, I’m not a purist or anything like that, I love the sound that a CD produces, it’s just that I miss buying that big black vinyl record, at least then it felt like you were buying something. God! I’m starting to sound like my Dad. Anyway, my eyes must’ve been sparkling cause this big bloke, must have been the owner or something, came up to me. “Like music do you?” I looked up, this guy was big, he made Big Eck look like a dwarf, “Yeah.” Was all I could manage.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx The others started to leave, I watched them go. Reluctantly I turned to the big bloke, “Gotta go.” I smiled nervously and left. “Bit naff.” Bazz said outside. The others nodded in agreement. “I dunno, I thought it was quite good.” I spoke up. Bazz shot me a glance that if looks could kill then he’d have needed a licence for his face.

I bowed my head and shuffled along sheepishly as the others followed Bazz and Diane, who had started to walk off.

*****

Over the next few weeks I was never out of the record shop, I didn’t buy much, but I listened, I listened a lot. I found out the big bloke was called Marvin, he’d been in an actual real live band and opened up this shop when the band split. Now Marvin, Marvin was cool, despite the dorky name he was far cooler than Bazz. I stopped hanging about with the others, I hardly saw them, Dell was the only one I ever saw, but that was once every blue moon. Marvin offered me a job. It didn’t matter that it was shitty pay, I accepted it on the spot. Mum was pleased, Dad didn’t say much, Jo and Sally wanted to know if they could get discount, Neil just kept playing in the earth outside the house. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Things were going well, the regulars in the shop accepted me pretty quickly, they were a good crowd, most of them seemed to have known Marvin when he was in the band, turns out the band were pretty good. I even joined a band myself, with Samantha (or Sammi as she prefers to be known), Marvin’s daughter, she writes and sings the songs, she also works at the shop, I play lead guitar, on a guitar that Marvin gave me instead of a months’ wage. It took me a while to master it, but now I’m pretty good, even if I do say so myself. Now Sammi is one hell of a girl, I wish I could pluck up the courage to tell her to her face, but I’m basically a coward at heart. Claire turned up one day; first time I’d seen her in ages, she seemed quite strung out. “It’s Dell.” She sobbed. She started crying right there in front of me, I didn’t know what to do. I checked to see if anybody was watching, then I took her into the back room. “Okay, now calm down Claire.” I held her shoulders, trying to calm her down, “What about Dell? You said it was about Dell.” I was starting to get a bit worried myself. “He’s. He’s.” She started to cry again, “He’s been arrested.” “Eh? Are you sure? I mean, Dell’s never been in any trouble before, he’s just not that type of guy.” “It wasn’t his fault.” “Why’d he get arrested?” I was flabbergasted, “What for?”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “He was covering up for Bazz.” “Eh?” “Bazz nicked some videos from a wholesalers and got Dell to stash them at his place, only the police must have found out, they raided his place. Dell refused to say where he got them, so they arrested him.” “The stupid fuck! How’d they know they were at Dell’s place?” “Dunno, must’ve been a tip off or something.” “Shit man! Who’d wanna do something like that to Dell?” “Bazz’s been pretty fucked up recently.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing; “You think Bazz set Dell up?” “I didn’t say that!” Claire started squealing defensively. “Then what are you trying to say?” “I dunno . . . I just don’t know.” She seemed scared of something; I couldn’t work out if she was afraid of Bazz, or something else. I moved forward and held her. Just then Sammi came into the room. “Hey Al, are you in here?” She stopped in her tracks. “Look it’s not what you think Sammi.” She stormed out of the room. “I think I’d better be going.” Claire looked embarrassed and stood up and left. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx What do I do now? Help Dell? Or go and explain to Sammi? Shit, I know I’m a coward, but it’s a about time I did something, so I’ll face up to the hardest task first. I’ll try and explain to Sammi. I followed Claire out of the back room; she wandered off out of the shop. I couldn’t see Sammi anywhere, but I did find Marvin. I explained to him what was happening, he told me I should go look for her. Where to start? I dunno, I mean there could be a thousand places she could have gone. Marvin told me that when Sammi was upset she would often go to The Rio, a small art house cinema, just off the high street. Well, it was worth a try. The Rio was a dingy looking little cinema, peeling paint on the outside walls and blinking lights on the neon sign, it all added to the, how shall we say, character of the place. It was one of the few independent cinemas that had survived the onslaught of the big multiplexes, but only just. A fading poster on the wall advertised Manhattan by Woody Allen. Sammi was here, I knew it, she was a massive Woody Allen fan, it didn’t matter that every one of his films seemed to be the same, she just had to see them. The manager of The Rio was also a big fan, so every opportunity he got he would show endless reams of Woody Allen films. Once Sammi dragged me along to see a triple-header, Sleeper, Annie Hall and Crimes and Misdemeanours. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Sleeper was excellent I have to admit, but I’d been up late the night before and I fell asleep through Annie Hall, and I can’t remember any of Crimes and Misdemeanours. Anyway, I went into the cinema, paid my money and crept inside. The film was already showing, but I knew exactly where I was heading. There were only about ten people in, but I knew which one was Sammi. She always sat in the same seat, in the same row. I crept quietly along the row and sat down next to her. She didn’t move, I could tell it was her, even in the dark she was unmistakable. “Sammi?” I whispered. “Ssssh.” She hissed. “Sammi?” “What? I’m trying to watch the film.” “Look, about earlier.” “It’s nothing to do with me.” She glared at me; “I don’t know why I got so worked up, I mean, were just friends after all.” I could tell there was a sort of uncertainty in her voice. Could it be she actually cared for me? I’m hopeless when it comes to these sorts of situations; all sorts of signals just fly right over my head. “It’s about a friend of mine.” “It’s nothing to do with me. What you do in the back room is your own business.” “It’s nothing to do with Claire.” Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Oh.” She sounded embarrassed. “It’s Dell. You remember Dell? You’ve met him a few times at the shop.” I could see she was nodding, but still staring at the big silver screen. So I continued, “He’s got himself into some trouble. Trouble with the police actually. Claire just came round to tell me.” “So what you doing here then?” She leaned over and kissed me gently on the cheek, “Go and help Dell.” I don’t know if I was blushing, I couldn’t tell in the dark, but I did feel invigorated, somehow stronger. A big cheesy grin came across my face and I strode out of the cinema with renewed confidence. I came out into the bright sunshine, I had to momentarily shield my eyes and wait for them to adjust, I’d only been in the cinema for a short while, but that had made all the difference. When I could finally see properly I strode off in search of Bazz.

*****

Now I hadn’t been away from them that long as to forget where they usually hung about. I checked the precinct, no sign. I checked under the flyover, no sign. I checked down by the river, no sign. Eventually I found them in the amusement arcade. “Look who it isn't.” Bazz sneered, over the beeping noises and flashing lights, “The prodigal son has returned.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx I’d only been away for a short time, but something had happened, something had changed. Bazz looked drawn and pale, his once sparkling blue eyes were now red and bloodshot. He shook slightly as he stood; he seemed like a ball of nervous energy, unable to contain himself, ready to unleash at any second. Diane stood next to him, dressed all in leather and draped over Bazz’s shoulder like some sort of trophy. The others crowded menacingly around; I could feel pressure at my back and turned to see Big Eck leering down at me. “What’s all this man?” I tried to pacify them, “What’s going on?” “What's going on?” Bazz did a week imitation of me and laughed. The others laughed as well. What was going on here? What had caused them to end up like this? It felt like a scene out of The Night Of The Living Dead. Bazz took a step towards me. I tried to back away, but bumped into Big Eck. Bazz kept coming, his face was now inches away from mine. He laughed. I could smell his disgusting breath in my face and flinched. “Look at him. He’s scared.” Bazz sneered. The others laughed. This was like a nightmare, these guys used to be my friends. “Leave it Bazz.” I turned to see who had spoken. Tommo came forward. “What?” Bazz growled. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “I said leave it. It’s not worth it Bazz.” Tommo put his hand on Bazz’s shoulder, “Remember it’s Al, he’s a mate.” Bazz backed off into one corner; Diane, Big Eck and Mac followed him. Tommo, Tina and Leslie stayed with me. “Thanks Tommo.” “No problem Al. Bazz’s been acting a bit weird lately.” “How come?” “Drugs or something I think.” Leslie shrugged, “He always was a bit of a dickhead.” “Tell me about it.” I laughed nervously. It was amazing how such a small group had split into two distinct factions. The weak and shallow seemed to have followed Bazz on his downward spiral, the more strong willed had (I was going to say followed me, but that would be big headed.) drifted away. “You hear about Dell?” Tina asked. “Yeah, Claire told me.” “Bit of a bastard in’it.” Tina shook her head. “Do any of you know anything about it?” I asked. “Bazz's involved somehow.” Leslie said, “I think.” “What makes you say that?” “Aaw come on. You know Dell better than any of us, you don’t think he’d have the intelligence to organise something like that, I mean. Do you?”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Dell.” I laughed, “He couldn’t organise an erection in a brothel.” The others laughed. “Come on lets get out of here.” We left together. As I was going out the door I turned back and could see Bazz staring menacingly at me, he raised his hand and drew his finger menacingly across his neck. I gave him the finger and left. We walked aimlessly down the street. “So how did the police find Dell so quickly?” I couldn’t help but ask I was itching to know more. “We reckon they must have had a tip off.” Tina said excitedly. “But who would do that?” “Who’d you think.” Tommo nodded back to the amusement arcade. “You think Bazz did it?” I was glad that someone else felt the same way as me, “But why?” “Well, I overheard Bazz and Big Eck talking, they were saying something about a letter. It was supposed to get sent to one of them, I think, but it ended being sent to one of us by mistake.” Tommo explained, “Now I reckon, I’m only guessing mind, that they thought Dell got the letter, which I think had the plans to something or other, and so they set him up. Well that’s what I think anyway.” “All this over a stupid letter.” I couldn’t believe it. “I know, mad in’it.” Tommo shook his head. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Then a horrific thought struck me. Letter. I’d received a letter, the same day I got that rejection letter, for the crappy office job. I patted my back pocket. My God! The letter was still there. It’s a good job I’m a lazy bastard and can’t be bothered doing the washing; I’d been wearing the same jeans all this time. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Leslie seemed concerned. “Naa it’s alright I feel fine.” “Are you sure? You look bloody awful.” “Honestly I’m fine, there’s nothing to worry about. I’m just concerned for Dell.” “Yeah, I know what you mean.” Tina said, “Do you think there’s anything we can do?” “Proving his innocence would help.” Leslie said sarcastically. “Big help you are Les.” Tommo moaned. “But it’s true in’it? It’s the only way were gonna be any help to Dell is to prove that he had nothing to do with it.” Leslie said adamantly. “Yeah, but how’re we gonna do that?” Tina asked. “Don’t worry I’ll think of something.” I tried to sound confident. I made my excuses and left, this was something I felt I had to handle on my own. When I was sure that no one was around I opened the letter. There was another envelope inside the first one; all that was written

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gã|áàxw _Éäx on the second envelope was the name Bazz. I opened this envelope and read the letter.

Bazz

Bet you didn’t think you’d hear from me for some time. Well, I’ve got news for you. Your good old brother has been let out early and you know what that means. Yes, you’ve guessed it little brother, I want my money. I want my share of the loot. I don’t care how you get it, but I want it ready and waiting for me for when I get out. If I don’t get the money then I’m going to break your legs and cut your pretty little face.

I’ll be in touch.

Tony

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Christ! I never even knew Bazz had a brother. The robbery must’ve been some elaborate attempt to get Tony his money. But why had the letter been sent to me? How did Tony know my address? Oh shit! This psychopathic nutter knows where I live. I can’t go to the police; they’ll want to know how I know this Tony bloke. The thing is I don’t know Tony, but he must know me. The only thing I can do is to get Bazz to confess to everything, then Dell will go free and that’ll get psycho Tony off my back. Well, that’s the theory anyway. Bazz is usually a creature of habit, so it wasn’t that difficult to find out where he was. I just checked out the same haunts as before and when I caught up with him and his cronies I wasted no time and waved the letter in front of his face, “This what you’ve been looking for?” “Why you . . .” He screamed and tried to make a grab for the letter. I snatched it out of his reach. I stuffed it into my jacket pocket just as he made a lunge for me. I dodged out of the way; he sprawled onto the ground. He was up quick as a flash; the others formed a circle around us, blocking us in. They shouted and jeered, egging us on. He made another charge at me, like a rampaging bull, I dodged out of the way, but as he went passed I hit him on the back of the head with my elbow. Down he went.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx I stood ready for his next attack; it didn’t come, so I took the fight to him. I tried to hit him in the face, but he blocked the blow and punched me in the stomach. I tried not to go down, but the breath had been knocked out of me, I fell to my knees. Blow upon blow rained down on my head; I could feel blood running down my face, from various wounds. I fell flat on my face, things were getting blurred. He started to kick me, or maybe they all did, I can’t remember. I was never much of a fighter. I began to pass out, but then I heard screaming, but these were different voices. A huge fight ensued around me. I couldn’t see a thing, everything just went black.

*****

I came round in hospital. God, my head hurt. I could see a figure at the bottom of the bed, but I couldn’t work out who it was. The figure came closer. “How you doing man?” It was Dell. I tried to smile, but it hurt too much. “I always knew you were a bit of a headcase.” He laughed. “What happened? When did you get out?” I tried to get up. “Easy mate. Take it easy.” Dell stopped me from getting up. “But what happened? I thought you were in prison?” I was anxious to find out what was going on. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “That’s some girl you’ve got.” “Eh?” I had no idea what he was going on about. “Turns out your girlfriend Sammi saw you getting a kicking from Bazz and got Tommo and the others to jump him.” “My girlfriend?” I was confused. “Anyway, turns out a patrol car spotted the fight.” Dell carried on regardless, “And they broke up the fight, but it didn’t end there. Bazz was gonna get away with it, but it turns out that Sammi’s got an uncle or something in the force and they reopened the case of the robbery, and what with the evidence of that letter and all that, Bazz and Tony got seven years each.” Dell was beaming from ear to ear. “My girlfriend?” Was all I could say. “Yeah Sammi. You do remember her don’t you?” Dell seemed concerned, “Speaking of which here she comes.” I looked down to the bottom of the bed and there she was. She came walking up to the side of the bed. “Eh, I’d best be going.” Dell nervously walked away. “Sammi?” I croaked, tears welling up in my eyes. “Sssh.” She brushed back my hair and kissed me. “Aaaaarrrgh!” I screamed, I couldn’t help it, it was bloody sore. She laughed her beautiful laugh. I laughed too. "Aaaaarrrgh!” That hurt as well.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx

OLD LADIES, THEIR HATS AND RAINMATES DISCUSS ... (A DESTRUCTION OF INNOCENCE OR A FEAR OF GROWING OLD)

Ever since I was a small child and was forced one Christmas, at the age of seven, to kiss the families infamous bearded aunt I have hated old people, nay, been terrified by them. At the time I imagined her to be about ninety-four and I also believed her to be a witch, she always wore black but unfortunately I never saw her wear the pointed hat. I realise now of course that she bore an uncanny resemblance to Jeremy Beadle, so she may well have been a witch or at least a perversion of nature. Anyway I digress, I thought my life had come to an end when my mother pushed me forward, towards the dreaded aunt. For an instant I froze, I thought about running away, about joining the circus or donating my body to medical science, anything but kiss the bearded aunt. It was like some sort of horror movie, everything else seemed to disappear and it was just me and the freak, and she was coming closer. God get me out of here! My brain was screaming. I was now within touching distance, come to think of it I was within smelling distance and I have to say it’s true, old people do smell of pee. She was moving in for the kiss, a huge grinning smile spreading across her

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gã|áàxw _Éäx face, I could see black teeth in that horrible gap, and then she was puckering up. RUN AWAY! RUN AWAY! My mind was screaming, god I’ll do anything to get out of this, absolutely anything. Suddenly inspiration, I don’t have to kiss her on those horribly scabby lips, at the last second a moved to the side and kissed her on the cheek. Shit! I made the wrong decision. Rather than get a mouth full of coldsore puss, which would probably have tasted better than what I actually got. Unfortunately I kissed her beard, I got a mouth full of hair and I was convinced I could smell either aftershave or shaving foam. All of a sudden I had this horrible thought, maybe my bearded aunt was actually a man, maybe my entire family had a history of turning into transvestites, maybe I would end up one too, maybe this was what happened to all men when they grew old. I mean I’d seen Les Dawson on the telly and he dressed as an old lady. Maybe my Dad did this as well. My God! My entire understanding of human life had just been destroyed and little me was only seven. Thus began an endless search, that was until I was nine anyway, to discover if us boys grew up to be women. I couldn’t ask my parents, they might start me early. I mean what a nightmare, suddenly turning up at school in a dress and my hair in pigtails. So I asked my friends and boy was I laughed at, but Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx then after persistent questioning and the discovery of a picture of my next door neighbour in ladies underwear and a tutu, which I showed to all my friends we then tried to discover if this was in fact true. The search ended after we discovered what I now know to be a rainmate. We thought it was some sort of mirror or special looking device, so for a short while the gang I was in all wandered about with these things strapped to our faces, this was until we were ridiculed by a group of teenage girls as being weirdo’s. Thus began my deep-rooted hatred of old ladies and rainmates. I have to say that I don't mind being called a weirdo but you have to agree that old ladies are just a little bit strange. I mean, at least I grew out of rainmates whereas old ladies seem to think that they serve some sort of useful purpose. I would love to meet the person that came up with the idea of strapping a sheet of patterned plastic to there head and just scream at them, WHY? You never see young people wearing these things, where the hell do old ladies buy them. I bet you it’s the same place they by their hats, those horrible things that look like some sort of birds nest or some animal that has shat on their head. Just after the time I had the fear of all men growing up to be bearded ladies, I suppose I had this strange curious urge to find out how old ladies got their hats. Did they have them passed down from generation after generation or did they have to go through some sort of ancient Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx initiation ceremony so that they could wear the sacred hat, or maybe when they reached a certain age they suddenly had this insane urge to go out and kill a cat or some such animal and place it on their head for all to see. Is there some shop somewhere that is completely lost in a time warp, cobwebs hanging everywhere and some old bloke with a black waistcoat and armbands round his sleeves, with the shakes and a severe case of incontinence. (There I go again, obsessing about old people smelling of pee.) Then in comes some old dear, who looks at the selection of hats with a maniacal glint in her eye and picks the one that looks like a dog turd with a sprinkling of coconut on top. She looks at the man behind the counter; “I’ll take this one dear. It reminds me of my little Willie.” referring of course to her old dog that died recently and she had stuffed and turned into a hat. The old bloke unfortunately misunderstands her and proceeds to wet himself. (There I go again.) Well? Do these places actually exist or is it just a figment of my twisted imagination. You’ll probably think I’m cruel when I say this but the ones that suffer from the nodding dog syndrome really make me laugh. I know, I know it’s a bit sick but there’s nothing funnier than putting a pile of loose change into their hand and watching them scatter it to the four corners of the world. There’s nothing worse than standing next to an old lady when they fart, not only does it smell like there’s something dead inside

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gã|áàxw _Éäx them or that Chernobyl has exploded again but you seem to get the blame. The other day I was standing in the queue at my local post office and the old dear in front of me suddenly let rip, the smell was disgusting, I nearly fainted, in fact two young kids behind me did. And guess what. Yep! I got the blame. Some old witch decided to batter me over the head with her handbag and some old army major with one of those horrible waxed curly moustaches decided to stab me with his umbrella. Thus I was hounded out of the post office and I haven’t dared to go back since. As I came out I tripped over some old ladies dog, which had taken it upon itself to attack me, so I got caught up in the dogs leash and fell down the stairs, grazing my hands and face. Deciding to give up on the day I went to catch the bus home, as I got onto the bus two old ladies were staring suspiciously at me. I thought nothing of it and sat in the seat behind them. God it makes you laugh, the conversations old ladies have between themselves on buses. One of them turned to the other and said, “Did you know that all men are potential rapists.” Jesus Christ! I thought to myself who in their right mind would rape something that looked as if it had been in the Wombles. Then I noticed that the other one was nodding her head in my direction. Oh my god they think I’m a rapist! I tried to control myself but I burst into a fit of hysterical laughter. You’ve never seen old ladies move so Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx fast, they must have thought I was some sort of madman, they shot out of their seats and begged the driver to stop the bus. Eventually he did and they half waddled and half ran down the street, glancing nervously behind them to see if I was following them. Luckily I wasn’t, I’d looked at my reflection in the window and noticed that I did look like a bit of a nutter, due to my scars from my fall at the post office and I was too busy wetting myself in hysterics. There I go again, rabbiting on about pee. Oh my god I was talking about myself! Please! Please! Please don’t say I’m growing old. AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGH!!!

PLEASE

Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please. Please love me.

DEAR DIANE (LETTERS OF LOVE)

Dear Diane

I know we only met last night, but I felt I just had to write. I can’t get you out of my head; I can’t stop thinking about you. Everywhere I turn I see your face. I look in the mirror; I see your face staring back. I think of your hair, your beautiful blonde hair. Your eyes, your beautiful brown eyes, so dark, so lovely, I could drown in those eyes. Your lips, your smile, your legs, your arms, I love every inch of you. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Okay so I’m smitten, I have to admit I have fallen well and truly in love. I want to see you again, I want to be with you and I want you to know that I will always be there for you, no matter what. Please get in touch, you know where I am. I shall wait with bated breath and a fluttering heart to hear from you.

With all my love. Alistair.

Dear Diane

What can I say? What is there to say. You are the most beautiful woman alive. I’m glad you got in touch, no glad doesn’t begin to describe how I felt. I was over the moon, ecstatic, on cloud nine, in ecstasy. You certainly taught me a thing or two, but don’t worry the scratches on my back will soon heal. I can still smell your perfume when I walk into the bedroom. The memories of that night will remain with me forever.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx We must get together again; we can introduce each other to our friends. No, on second thoughts why should we waste time with friends when we could be spending all that time together. Call me, I’ll be waiting.

With all my heart (and other bits as well) Alistair

Dear Diane

The world is a brighter place. Before you came it was dull, boring and ordinary, but now even the most mundane task seems somehow beautiful when you are around. I’ve had an idea, now I don’t want to put any pressure on you, you don’t have to say yes unless you really want to, but how about you move in? I know, I know, it’s one hell of a jump, but please consider it. It would put the icing on the cake; it would make my day, not to say my year.

Let me know

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Alistair

Dear Diane

Okay, so maybe I was being a bit previous. I wasn’t trying to pressure you, or tie you down as you suggested, but I was just trying to put our relationship on a firmer footing. If you felt I was trying to smother you then I apologise, it was not my intention, but please don’t let us fall out over this. I’ll back off, I wont pressure you in any way, just please let me see you again. I’ll beg if I have too. Is that what you want, you want me to beg. Okay. Please, please, please, please, please, I beg of you, let me see you again.

Begging you, from my knees. Alistair

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gã|áàxw _Éäx

Dear Diane

What can I say, that I have not said already? I LOVE YOU. There I said it. You said I couldn’t, well I just thought I’d prove you wrong. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, my life has turned round, things are rosy, peachy and pretty bloody fabulous. I have a question to ask. No, it’s nothing like the last one. I’ve been given a couple of tickets for a fortnight in Spain. Please, make my day. Come with me.

Yours always and forever Alistair

Dear Diane

You’ll come. Oh my God, you’re wonderful, you’re are an absolute goddess. I’ll let you know the complete details, such Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx as hotel, flights and that sort of thing, as soon as I have them, but just remember to bring your bikini and lots of suntan lotion. I think it’s the first two weeks in July, but I’m not quite sure. I can’t think straight, my mind is racing, all I can think about is me, you and Spain, for two whole weeks. God I’m shaking with the mere thought of it. I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait.

Yours expectantly Alistair

Dear Diane

Spain was brilliant. Utterly, utterly brilliant. I’m sore all over, and not just from sunburn I can tell you. I never knew you were so, I don’t know, I suppose energetic is the only word I can think of. I had trouble keeping up with you, but don’t worry I enjoyed trying to. We must do it again some time, but could you at least let me catch my breath next time. Not that I’m complaining or

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gã|áàxw _Éäx anything, I’ve had a grin across my face ever since I came back. Folk at work are starting to ask questions.

Breathlessly yours Alistair

Dear Diane

Now promise me you won’t lose your head, but I’ve been offered a promotion at work. It means more money, a company car, but it also means that I have to move away. It’s not too far, I’ll still be able to commute, but most importantly I will, if you still want me to, be able to see you. I’ll phone and let you know what my new address will be.

Gone, but not forgotten Alistair

Dear Diane

This new place seems to have added extra spice to things. Whether it’s new surroundings, the secrecy, or maybe it’s just Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx a novelty. Maybe I’ve changed, I don’t know, but I do know that my feelings for you have not changed, I still love you more than anything in the world. It’s the bank holiday weekend soon, please come and spend the weekend here. Please.

Expectantly yours Alistair

Dear Diane

Marry me?

Alistair

Dear Diane

You don’t know what it means to me. You’ve made me the happiest man in the world. I have loved you since the first moment I set eyes on you. I may not have been able to say it, but I

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gã|áàxw _Éäx feel I want people to know, I want to shout it from the rooftops. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. I no longer feel embarrassed to say it; I want everybody to know that I am marrying the most beautiful girl in the world. I don’t know what to say, I don’t know what’s going on. Thoughts and words are flying round my head, every one of them I want to say to you, but I just don't know if they’d come out in the right order. I just don’t care. If I make a complete fool of myself, I just don’t care, because I have you.

I LOVE YOU. Alistair

Dear Diane

I know we haven’t spoken a lot lately. Maybe after two years of marriage there isn’t a lot more we can say to each other, but this small note is to let you know that I have to go on a business trip to Italy.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx

I shan’t be long. Alistair

Dear Diane

I know I haven’t written you one of these letters for quite some time, but I think there have been reasons, and I think you know what those reasons are. Maybe we’ve just grown apart, I don’t know, but things just don’t seem to be the same anymore. I’m not using it as an excuse though. I’m not blaming you in any way for what has happened, but I think it’s only fair that you should know what’s going on. I’m leaving you. I don’t think I love you anymore. It’s not your fault; it’s just that I met somebody when I went on that business trip to Italy. Her name’s Marie, she’s made me feel young again. I feel special. I feel loved. I’m sorry if I’m hurting you, but I think it’s better this way, than if we were to live our lives out and end up hating each other in our old age. This way it’s a clean break. I’m sorry.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Alistair

SOMETHING NICE

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. Jack hated that phrase, people would always quote it whenever they found out his name was Jack, every time he heard it he could feel the rage building up inside him. But what really annoyed him was the fact that he didn’t have a job, so the bit about ‘all work’ was a complete lie, and because he was out of work he couldn’t afford to play, so unfortunately the bit about ‘no play’ was correct. His giro wouldn’t last very long, he had to pay for food, and then there was the electricity bill, the gas bill, the water and most importantly of all, the Tv licence. Without the telly he wouldn’t know what he would do. After all that lot had been paid there was hardly anything left for him to play. He knew that he had to do something with his life, but he couldn’t be bothered getting off his arse and doing it, besides there was a good programme on the telly in a couple of minutes. Sure he had ambitions, he even once had dreams, but they had long since been forgotten. His day would mainly consist of getting up in the morning, or, as was more common, in the afternoon, and switching on the telly. He would sit in front of the telly until his stomach would start to rumble and then he would get himself some corn flakes or something like that, then he would sit back down in Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx front of the telly. On the odd occasion he would go out for a walk, but that really wasn’t that often. On one afternoon Jack crawled out of bed, he wandered into the living room and turned on the telly. Nothing happened. He tried again, but still nothing happened. He checked the plug, but it was turned on. He thumped the telly, hard, still nothing happened. He walked into the kitchen and turned on the kettle. He pulled out a mug and puts the coffee, milk and sugar in it. He turned on the radio. Nothing happened. He noticed that the kettle still hadn’t boiled. Damn! There must be a power cut. He sat around the flat for a few minutes, but soon became bored, so he decided to go for a walk. He got dressed and pulled on his jacket. As he locked the front door he could feel the chill in the wind, he pulled his jacket close around him and walked down the stone steps to the street. He turned left and walked down the street. He ended up in the park, which was where he usually ended up on the rare occasions that he went outside. He sat on a park bench and watched the people go by, it was just like the telly. He just sat there watching the people, every so often he would wonder what was going through their minds, but he didn’t really have the imagination to think of anything more than a trip to the shops or a visit to the bank. He soon became bored and just watched them. Then he saw her. Walking through the park was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life. She was about five foot six, had long blonde hair that went half way down her back, big

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gã|áàxw _Éäx crystal blue eyes and thick red lips. She walked elegantly past Jack. He couldn’t help but stare after her. He wished he could meet someone like her. Then a thought entered his head, maybe he could, maybe it was possible that he could actually make her notice him. No sooner had the thought entered his head than he dismissed it as wishful thinking. Then he thought, why not? Why shouldn’t he be able to meet someone like her? He stood up and looked for her, but she was nowhere to be seen. His heart sank. He’d missed his chance. But then he thought to himself, why can’t he make himself a second chance? Yeah why not. He rubbed his hands together with glee and raced back to the flat. He bounded up the stairs and already had the keys ready, he shoved them into the lock, opened the door and raced inside. He stood in the living room, suddenly unsure what to do. He had been full of ideas, but now that he’d got there he just couldn’t think what he was going to do. He wondered if the power was back on. He glanced at the telly. No, he had plans to make, but there might be something good on the telly. Yeah, but if he wanted to meet the girl from the park then he had to do something about it now. What if the telly could help him? What if he could find something on the telly that could give him some advice on how to win his girl?

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gã|áàxw _Éäx He gave in and sat down, putting on the telly with the remote control. Uuuugh! Daytime telly. He watched a couple of smiling morons talking to a sad looking woman, droning on about hormone replacement. “Yes, thank you Mandy.” One of the presenters smiled insincerely, “And remember today’s phone in is about relationships.” Now this could be more like it. Jack took of his jacket, threw it down on the floor and settled down to watch. He had to sit through an intensely boring cookery item and then some pratt prancing about doing the weather. Then finally the moment he’d been waiting for, the phone in. “Well now it’s time for our phone in. With us we have Dr Smith a psychologist and Marge Banks our regular agony aunt.” Jack stared at the screen; at the greasy looking bloke in a tatty looking corduroy suit and a pair of national health spectacles. Jack reckoned he must be the psychologist. The other was a fat frumpy looking middle aged woman, who could only have been an agony aunt. They were both squeezed in-between the smiling, shiny presenters. “Our first caller is Sharon from Bristol.” Jack had to sit through six or seven of these dreary calls, which at the end of it all left him none the wiser.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Well I guess I’ll just have to make it up myself.” Jack scratched his head, “So what do I do then, I mean, I haven’t got a clue as to where I might meet her.” He walked into the so-called kitchen and opened up the fridge; there wasn’t much inside. In fact it was virtually empty, there was a few cans of coke, a couple of microwave meals and some sort of strange brown substance, which had long since forgotten what it originally was. Jack reached his hand in and took out one of the cans of coke. He strolled back into the living room and slumped down on the chair in front of the telly. All thought of the girl went from his head as he opened the can and found his brain turning to jelly as he stared at the telly.

*****

He woke up with a start, the telly was still on, and he had no idea how long he’d been asleep. He shifted his position, to relieve the pins and needles in his legs; he felt a moist feeling in his lap. He stood up and looked down at his trousers, a large dark stain spread across his groin, he realised that while he’d been sleeping he’d knocked over his can of coke and it had pored its contents all over him. “Aaw shit!” He groaned and wiped himself down. He walked back to his bedroom, “How the hell am I supposed to impress women if I look like I’ve pissed myself.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Shaking his head, he slowly took off his trousers, throwing them onto the floor next to a pile of dirty clothes. He opened one of the drawers to a small chest of drawers, empty, completely empty. “Damn!” He started to rummage through the piles of dirty clothes strewn about the floor. Eventually he found a suitable pair and put them on. “Well I suppose they’ll have to do.” He looked at himself in the mirror, somewhat disappointed in his appearance. He wandered back into the living room; he picked up a pencil and a small notepad and plonked himself down on the chair. “Okay then, plan of action.” He mused as he tapped his teeth with the pencil; “Right first of all I’ll have to get some of my stuff down to the laundry.” He scribbled something down onto the notebook, “I suppose I should tidy up this place, but that can wait. I should get myself sorted out first.” He wrote down a few other things onto the notepad, then put it down the side of the seat. He then reached over to the remote and turned up the sound of the telly. “I’ll start tomorrow.”

*****

Jack hadn’t often been to the laundry; in fact this was probably the first time in nearly three months. He wandered in and set his stuff down on the floor, he stared in confusion at the machines.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Can I help you at all?” The young girl that worked in the laundry asked. “Eh yeah, if you could . . . Err . . . explain, eh, everything.” “I take it you don’t come here often?” “Is it that obvious?” “Yeah.” She laughed and started loading his stuff into one of the machines. Jack helped load the machine. “Thanks.” “No problem.” She smiled and moved to the back of the shop. Jack sat down on the bench and stared at the machine, he found himself getting slowly hypnotised by it. He absent-mindedly reached over and picked up a newspaper, it was two days out of date, but he didn’t care, he started to read it anyway. He glanced up from the Tv page and couldn’t believe his eyes, there she was, the lady from the park came into the laundry. She strode elegantly to the back of the shop and started talking to the young girl. Jack stared, he couldn’t help it, he just couldn’t keep his eyes off her. They seemed to be having some sort of argument, he couldn’t hear what they were saying, and he just couldn’t keep his eyes off her luscious lips. Those full crimson lips, they glistened slightly in the light, Jack nearly fainted when she licked them slowly with her tongue.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx God! He had to get himself together, if he wasn’t careful he’d end up in hospital. He quickly ducked behind the newspaper as she turned and stormed out of the shop. He watched her through the window as she disappeared up the street. He was caught in two minds should he go after or should he . . . He noticed that the laundry girl was crying, she held her head in her hands and was leaning on the counter. “Are you alright?” Jack came over to her. “Yeah, it’s okay.” She sniffed, staring down at the counter. “Are you sure?” Jack bent down and tried to catch her eye. She laughed nervously as she saw Jack’s face. “That’s better in’it?” Jack laughed himself. She wiped the tears from her eyes. When Jack saw that she’d calmed down he took the opportunity to ask what he was itching to ask, “That woman, do you know her?” “What Sylvia?” “Sylvia?” “Yeah I know her.” Jack waited expectantly, “She’s my sister.” “Your sister!” Jack was gob smacked, he couldn’t believe his luck here, he’d well and truly landed on his feet. “So why you crying then?”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Oh, it’s just that Sylvia was supposed to turn up for our Mum’s birthday party tonight, but she’s decided to go out to some club or other, but I mean she hasn’t seen Mum for a couple of months and she’d promised she’d come. I’d spent a fortune trying to get things organised, Sylvia was supposed to be the surprise guest, but now she’s gone and ballsed everything up, the stupid cow!” “It can’t be that bad.” Jack's mind was working overtime, “Any idea what club it was she was going to?” “Why do you wanna know?” “Well how about I go and find her and then try and persuade her to go to your party.” “Why would you do that?” “Cause I’m a nice guy?” Jack smiled. “You would do that, for me?” “Course, why not.” He shrugged. “That’d be great if you could. She’ll be at The Metro.” “Okay, I promise I’ll get her to come to the party.” Jack turned and walked quickly out of the laundry. The girl shook her head, “Strange guy.” She noticed a pile of dirty clothes lying on the floor, “Oh Christ! He’s forgotten his bloody washing.” She collected the washing and put them into a large bag and stashed it behind the counter.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx *****

Jack was on cloud nine, he knew her name now, Sylvia, Sylvia, Sylvia. He repeated it over and over again to himself. As he said it he had a massive grin from ear to ear, this time he was going to actually do something about it, he was going to meet her at The Metro and he’d sweep her off her feet. He arrived at the flat and rushed inside, completely hyperactive, he ran about like a blue arsed fly, he couldn’t find anything. His clothes seem to be missing. Shit! Shit! Shit! He realised he’d left his clothes back at the laundry, he couldn’t go back and get them, he’d look like a pratt. God, why did everything he ever does have to go wrong! He’d have to improvise now; he’d have to make it up as he went along. Aaaaaaarrrrrgh! He hated it when this sort of thing happened. Nothing, nada, zilch, zero, zip bubkis ever went right for him. Why him? Why didn’t anything nice ever happen to him? It wasn’t as if he was a bad person, I mean, he had been known in his younger days to help old ladies across the road, mind you, that was when he was seven years old and it was bob-a-job week.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx He rummaged about in what remained of his wardrobe until he came up with a suitable ensemble, a pair of grubby black jeans, which in the right light you wouldn’t be able to see the stain on the inside of his right leg and an old white shirt, which although it needed a bit of an iron, looked quite respectable. He looked at himself in the mirror, shrugged his shoulders. It wasn’t too bad, but would it be good enough to get him into The Metro, well he’d have to wait and see. He looked at his watch, he had a few hours to kill before he had to go, so he sat down in front of the telly and turned it on. Some sort of dire Australian soap opera was on. Jack couldn’t help himself, within a few seconds he found himself engrossed. “Gee Darlene, why’d you have to kiss Brad, you know I love him.” “But I love him too Annie.” “Well we can’t both have him.” “No. We’ll have to come up with some way of deciding which one of us will get him.” “I know Annie, why don’t we let Brad decide?” “Gee, sounds like a good idea.” “Oh Brad. Oh Brad honey.” “Yeah what is it Darlene.” “We were wondering Brad, if you had to choose which one of us you were going to marry, which one would it be?” Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Well that’s an easy one.” “It is?” “Yeah, I wouldn’t choose either of you. I’d choose Tony, ‘cause I’m gay.” Then the awful title music comes on and the actors are left standing there as if it’s a still shot, but you can see them moving. The actor that plays Brad seems desperate to sneeze and looks more than relieved when the screen fades to black. Jack stares mesmerised at the screen as programme follows programme; he loses all track of time. He glances at his watch. “Shit!” He was late; he’d better get a move on. He clambered out of his seat and grabbed his denim jacket from off the floor; he checked the pockets to make sure that his wallet was still inside. It was. He patted his pocket just to make sure, then he went outside and closed the door behind him.

*****

The Metro was a popular club, there was a huge queue outside, and Jack stood near the back. He was nervous, he looked at the people around him, then at himself, he was convinced the bouncers would never let him in. He shuffled slowly along as the queue moved. Eventually he was at the front. He looked up at the huge man, who was the bouncer; he was the perfect human being, tall,

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gã|áàxw _Éäx handsome, strong and looked good in a suit. Jack knew he wasn’t going to get in, there was no way this huge bloke was going to let him in. “Alright mate, in you go.” “Sorry?” Jack was gob smacked, he was convinced he’d misheard. “You ‘erd me mate. Now you wanna go in or not?” “Err, yeah sure, thanks.” Jack quickly stepped inside before the bouncer changed his mind. The club was busy, very busy. Jack had to wait for a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the gloom, the occasional strobe light would burst across the dance floor and nearly blind him. He pushed his way through the crowd towards the bar. Now the bar, that was a challenge, it was about five deep. He stuck out his elbows and pushed his way through. Eventually he got through, he held his hand out, trying to catch the bar staff’s attention, he could feel the pressure of everybody else pushing at his back. Finally he got served, taking his drink he pushed his way back through the crowd. He ended up in the corner of the nightclub, watching from his vantagepoint he tried to see if he could spot Sylvia. “I’ll never find her in here.” He said to himself, “I mean, I can hardly see my hand in front of my face.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx He slumped against the wall, resigned to the fact that he’ll probably never find Sylvia. Just then a group of incredibly attractive women sat at a table near Jack. He absent-mindedly glanced across; his jaw dropped as he saw Sylvia was amongst the group. He had to swallow deeply as he tried to pluck up the courage to talk to her. His blushes were saved slightly when Sylvia got up and walked over to the bar. Jack followed her. The crowd seemed to part as Sylvia approached the bar, giving her easy access to the bar, Jack followed sheepishly behind her. “A Jack Daniel’s please.” Sylvia called to the barman. Jack stood next to her, “That’s funny.” “What is?” She scowled at him. “That’s my name.” “What is?” “Jack Daniels, that’s my name, Jack Daniels.” “Well bully for you.” She turned away from him to see if the barman had got her drink yet. “You must be Sylvia.” She turned quickly round and stared at him as if he was some sort of insect. “I was talking to your sister.” Jack tried to explain.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “You were talking to Fiona?” She seemed intrigued, “What she have to say for herself?” “Well, she was talking about you.” Jack started nervously, “About your Mother’s party.” “Oh great she’s been blabbing to every Tom, Dick and Harry about this bloody party.” “Well, she wasn’t exactly blabbing.” “Oh no, then how did you find out about it?” The barman came over and put Sylvia’s drink in front of her, she reached into her handbag and pulled out her purse. She opened the purse and pulled out some money, she placed her purse down on the bar and took a sip from her drink. “She was a bit upset that’s all.” Jack watched her drink, staring at her lips as she swallowed. “She was upset! She was bloody upset!” Sylvia started to get angry, “Mum couldn’t wait to get me out of that house and now they expect me to come running just because it’s her bloody birthday. No way! No fucking way!” Sylvia picked up her drink and stormed quickly away from the bar. “But . . .” Jack watched her, the crowed pushed back in as she walked away, and quickly she was lost from view.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Jack turned to face the bar, lying there was her purse. He picked it up and pushed his way through the crowd towards where she was sitting with her friends, but they were nowhere in sight. He sat down on one of the chairs at the now empty table and placed her purse on the table. He just stared at it and stared at it, as if it would talk to him and reveal some great secret to him. Finally he plucked up the courage to open it; he reached forward and picked it up. He was shaking; his fingers were shaking as he opened it. Inside was nothing special, a few bits of spare change, a couple of notes and a small envelope. He couldn’t resist; he took the letter out of the envelope. He only read a small part of it; it seemed to be from Fiona, asking Sylvia to come to the party. He couldn’t bring himself to read any more of the letter, but he did read the address at the top of the first page. Amazing, Fiona didn’t live that far away from him, only a couple of streets. He walked determinedly out of the club, he’d made up his mind what he was going to do, he was going to go round to Fiona’s and apologise for breaking his promise. He walked down the streets, he couldn’t believe it, she only lived a few streets away. How come he’d never seen her? He could have bumped into her at anytime, why now? It didn’t matter, he’d met her now and that was that. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx He’d memorised the address; he knew exactly which house it was. He knew what he would do, he’d knock on the door, Sylvia would answer, cause that’s where she must have disappeared to, and then he’d sweep her off her feet, this time he’d do it properly. Right, here we are. Number seventeen. He walked up to the door, he wiped his hands on his trousers to try and get rid of the sweat, which was now poring off him. He rang the doorbell, he wiped his forehead, the sweat was streaming down his face. Fiona answered the door; a look of abject misery came across Jack’s face. It wasn’t Sylvia. “Are you all right, you look terrible.” Fiona ushered him inside. Maybe Sylvia was inside. Yeah that was it; she’d be inside. “Mrrl blurgh waah nnnfff.” Was all Jack could say. “Come on you’d better lie down.” Fiona showed him into the living room.

There were several old ladies a few kids, all of them

staring at Jack as if he were a freak, but no Sylvia. There was no Sylvia. Fiona set Jack down on the sofa; two old ladies got out of his way as he lay back and passed out.

*****

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gã|áàxw _Éäx His eyes flickered open. Where the hell was he? He didn’t recognise this place at all. There were cards on the mantelpiece and on the windowsill. He scratched his head. “Oh, so you’re up then.” Jack turned his head to see who was talking. All he could see was a beautiful young girl. “Sylvia?” Jack croaked. “No, Fiona.” “Oh.” Jack sank back onto the sofa. “Thanks very much.” Fiona sounded upset. “What am I doing here?” “You don’t remember?” “What, I didn’t make a pratt of myself again, did I?” “You turned up half way through my Mum’s birthday party, talking a load of gibberish, then you collapsed on the sofa. Put one hell of a damper on the party I can tell you.” “Oh God, I didn’t did I?” Jack held his head in his hand. “’Fraid you did.” “Oh God.” Jack looked up at Fiona, “I’m Sorry.” “S’alright.” She smiled. Jack found himself feeling warm inside when he saw her smile, he hadn’t realised Fiona was so pretty.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Looks like something nice might be happening to me after all.” Jack said to himself. “Eh?” “Nothing, sorry nothing.” “You know you left your stuff at the laundrette?” “I knew I’d left them somewhere.” Jack swung his feet round and sat up. His head started spinning, he put his hands to his head. “Are you sure you’re alright?” “Yeah sure, don’t worry, it must have been something I ate.” “Well you just stay there and have plenty of rest. I’ll be back in a second.” Fiona stood up and walked out if the room, “Are you still looking for Sylvia?” “Eh, what, err, how’d you know?” Jack blurted anxiously. “Oh, it was just that you kept calling out her name while you were sleeping.” Great, blown it again, before he’d even started he’d buggered his chances with Fiona. He’d have to be fast on his feet to rescue this one. Fiona came back into the room, carrying a tray with a bottle of lemonade and a couple of empty glasses; she set the tray down on a small table. “So what did you want our Sylvia for?” “Oh, it . . . Err . . . wasn’t Sylvia I was looking for.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “No?” “No, it was . . . Err . . . you, it was you I was looking for.” “Me?” “Yeah, after I saw you at the laundrette I just couldn’t get you out of my head. I just went looking for Sylvia so that I could . . . I could . . . Err . . . Find out where you live. Yeah, so that I could find out where you lived.” Jack realised he was starting to sweat again. “Aaw, that’s sweet.” Fiona bent forward and kissed Jack on the forehead. Jack beamed; Fiona couldn’t help but laugh when she saw Jack’s face. Jack finally plucked up his courage, he stood up, put his arms round Fiona and pulled her towards him. He kissed her long and passionately, more passionately than he knew he could. “Jack.” Fiona smiled in surprise as they moved apart. Jack smiled sheepishly, Fiona pulled him towards her and they kissed again. “Nice.” they both said at the same time.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx

IFS AND BUTS He walked into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. He produced a small folded up handkerchief from his pocket and placed it on the side of the bath. He then turned on the hot water tap and waited for it to get warm. When he was satisfied he put the plug in and watched the water slowly rise. With the steam filling up the room he started to undress, putting his clothes in a small neatly folded pile in the corner. The bath was now nearly full, he put his hand in the water, it seemed all right to him. He turned off the tap and dipped his foot slowly in. His face grimaced and he quickly pulled his foot out. He turned on the cold tap and occasionally kept dipping his foot in to check the temperature. When he was satisfied he turned off the tap and climbed gingerly in, lowering himself slowly and gently into the water. He lay back, letting the water drift up over his shoulders. He sighed deeply. He pulled himself forward and reached for the handkerchief and slowly unfolded it, to reveal a bright shiny razor blade. He picked up the razor blade gently in his right hand. He held it over his wrist; he could still hear her latest rejection ringing in his ears.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx He paused, the blade millimetres above his wrists. He put the blade to one side and stood up. He leaned over and turned on the radio that always sat on the bathroom windowsill. He leaned back into the water as he heard the DJ introduced the next song. ‘She Said’, by The Longpigs started. “Ah, how apt.” He thought. He listened intently as the intro music filled the room, echoing off the tiles. It was an intoxicating mix, the words, the heat, the steam and the water lapping against his body. He found himself singing along to the song, the words seemed to fit his mood.

There are no clothes I can buy that make me feel like myself She says So I put on clothes To make me look like someone else Instead

And as a matter of fact I don't like to be seen

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Cause I’m not satisfied with myself She said, she said, she said, she’s dead

There’s no perfume I can buy that makes me smell like myself She says So I put on perfume To make me smell like someone else In bed

And as a matter of fact I don’t like to be safe Sort of like to smell like myself She said, she said, she said, she’s dead, she said

I’m not afraid Of being more than pretty You’re getting paid To wind yourself up until you drop dead Yeah

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gã|áàxw _Éäx There’s no one I can talk to Like I talk to myself She said So I play games To make them think I’m someone else

He lost interest and stopped singing, the song continued, but he wasn’t listening, his thoughts had wandered to her. Now of all times, he couldn’t stop thinking of her. He saw her face before him, he closed his eyes and shook his head to try and rid himself of her image. It was no good, even with his eyes clamped shut he could still see her. He sank down under the water and stared up at the rippling surface, but there she was again, staring down at him from above. He thrust his head back up above the water and took a huge gulp of air. “Why? Why are you haunting me? I didn’t mean it.” He bellowed. But still her image watched him, smiling. He picked up the razor blade and pushed it against his wrist. “I’ll do it! I’ll bloody do it!” He was close to tears. Her image smiled and looked as if it was laughing.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Oh God, how he used to love her laugh. He could remember it even now. Taunting him remorselessly the memories came flooding back, he couldn’t stop them, there was nothing he could do.

*****

She laughed at his jokes; he couldn’t believe it, somebody who actually found him funny. Everybody else told him he was sick or just walked away, but no, she laughed. He couldn’t believe it, somehow he’d been invited to this dumb party, he’d thought it was a mistake at first, he was never invited to parties, but no it was no mistake, he was invited. Anyway, here he was at this party talking to the most beautiful girl in the place. They talked for what seemed like hours, about what he had no idea. When she left she gave him her number and told him to call her. After she’d gone he felt a strange kind of emptiness inside. Could this be what other people call love?

*****

He lay in the bath, staring up at the ceiling. Was that a tear on his cheek or was it just a droplet of water. If only she’d never met him, then nothing would have happened. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx If only she hadn’t talked to him. If only he hadn’t made such an impression, then things would have turned out all right. Ifs, ifs, life was full of bloody ifs.

*****

The phone rang, he answered it. It was her. He hadn’t phoned her, he thought it would be impossible for him to live up to their first meeting. She wanted to see him, he didn’t know what to do SHE wanted to see him. With a mixture of reluctance and excitement they arranged to meet. He wasn’t exactly gullible, but he was certainly pliable. They had several (well he was reluctant to call them dates, but that’s really what they were) meetings. On each one, with subtle remarks, she was slowly changing him. It started with his appearance, then it would be the way he would talk, the way he walked. Slowly but surely she was moulding him into a different person. At first he didn’t notice, but even when he did he didn’t mind much, because it seemed to make her happy. Looking back at it now it was obvious that she was moulding him into an exact replica of her ex-boyfriend, but he was so much in love he was oblivious to it all.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx But he’d never noticed, he never paid attention. But had he seen the signals would he really have been able to do anything? Would he have been able to stop all the heartache and pain? But would he have wanted to? Yet more buts, there was always a but.

*****

He looked across the bathroom at the pile of folded clothes in the corner. She’d made him buy those clothes. It had been another vain attempt to impress her or had it been to pacify her, he couldn’t remember, but he could remember his other attempts to impress her.

*****

Poetry had been one of his famous failures. He tried to compose a poem for her, but couldn’t. So he raked through his record collection until he found a song with suitable words. Then at their next meeting he’d presented it to her as if it was some mystical tome. “I’ve written you a poem.” He said nervously. “For me. Aaw how sweet. Will you read it?”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “I was rather hoping you’d read it yourself.” He glanced round at her friends. He suddenly wished he’d thought about this and waited for a more private moment. “Aaw go on, it’ll sound better coming from you.” “I can’t.” He blushed, “Not in front of all these . . . these people.” “Aaw go on.” They all chided him. He had a sneaky suspicion that one of her arty friends would know what he’d copied from, but he couldn’t back down not now, he’d look stupid, but surely he’d look even more stupid if he backed down. Either way, whatever happened he was going to make a pratt of himself. “God if only I had half a brain.” He thought to himself. “Go on then, read it out.” One of her friends shouted. She had a way of making him feel, he didn’t know what it was, but she could wrap him round her little finger. “Oh alright then.” He opened up the piece of paper he’d written the poem on and started to read.

If I was in the fridge would you open the door If I was the grass would you mow the lawn If I was your body would you still wear clothes If I was a boger would you blow your nose

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Where’d you keep it, would you eat it I’m just trying to find a reason for being around

If I was a front porch swing would you let me hang If I was a dancefloor would you shake your thang If I was a rubber cheque would you let me bounce Up and down inside your bank account Would you trust me not to break you Cause I’m trying real hard to make you Notice me being around

If I was a maid could I clean you flat If I was a haircut would you wear a hat If I was a carpet would you wipe your feet In time to save me from mud off the street If you liked me if you loved me Would you get down on your knees and scrub me Cause I’m a little grubby From just being around

There was silence at first when he stopped reading. He looked up; they were all staring at him. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Aaw how sweet.” She came forward and hugged him. He hugged her back. For once in his life he felt certain about something. He was certain that he wanted her. That night they slept together. He’d never made love to anyone before, but that night she made him feel as if he’d been doing it all his life. He wanted that night to last forever.

*****

He laughed to himself as he watched the steam rising from the bath. How quickly his greatest triumph could turn into his biggest disaster.

*****

He watched as she came towards him, there was a determination an anger in the way she walked, which wasn’t usually there. There was something wrong, he could tell. She strode up to him and without saying a word slapped him across his face.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “You liar!” She screamed, “You fucking lair!” He couldn’t think straight; he didn’t know what had hit him. “You told me you’d written it for me, you fucking liar!” He didn’t know what to say. She was getting this upset over him stealing the lyrics of some song? He knew she’d be a little upset, he just didn’t reckon she’d go ballistic. “I had to find out from fucking Brian!” She continued to scream. All this over a song, it was beyond him. “You copied the words of a Lemonhead’s song!” She ranted, “The fucking Lemonheads, of all the bands, why the Lemonheads? You knew that was his favourite band.” Now he was completely lost. “Eh?” “Eh? Eh?” She imitated him, “Is that all you can fucking say?” “Look I err . . . I eh . . . I didn’t know.” “FUCK YOU!” She screamed and stormed off. He was left standing there like a complete fool; he had no idea what had just happened. He wondered if he should follow her or if he should let her cool off. He decided to follow her. She led him to what he presumed to be her flat. He’d never been here before, but he assumed by the way she just let herself in that it must be her flat.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx He stood outside; wondering what he should do next. He stood outside the door for hours, nobody came or went. Finally he plucked up the courage and went and knocked on the door. He could hear somebody coming to the door, it opened and she stood there with tears in her eyes. “Oh it’s you.” “Look, I think we should talk.” She turned her back on him and walked back inside. He stepped gingerly in and closed the door behind him. The flat was small and sparsely furnished; he walked slowly in and followed her into the living room. “Look, I think we’d better talk.” “What for? There’s nothing to talk about.” “How can you say that after what happened back there?” “We’re finished and that’s that. Why can’t you get that into your thick skull?” “But why?” He argued, “I don’t understand.” “You never understood anything, that was always your problem.” “But . . .” “No ifs, no buts.” She shouted, “You and me are finished, kaput, over.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx He looked as if he was going to bust into tears. “Look, let me spell it out for you.” She spoke slowly and calmly; “You and I are not going out together. We are no longer a couple. Goodbye.” He didn’t know what to do, so many thoughts were flying through his head, and he just stood there like a complete lemon. He couldn’t take it in, he didn’t understand. Why was she doing this to him? She grabbed him by the shoulders, spun him round and started pushing him towards the door. This couldn’t be happening. This shouldn’t be happening. He wouldn’t let it happen. “NO!” He screamed, forcing her arms off him. He spun round and pushed her against the wall, with more force than he knew he had. She wriggled like a rag doll in his grasp. “I won’t let this happen.” He shouted into her face. “Tough titty. It’s happened.” She spat back at him. Before he knew what he was doing he threw her across the room, as if she was nothing. She landed in a heap and tried to get up, but he was over in a flash, hitting her back down to the floor. “I’ll get you for that you bastard.” She looked up at him with blood flowing from her mouth. She wiped away the blood with the back of her hand. She appeared to be smiling.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx He’d wipe that smile off her face. He stormed off into the kitchen and started rummaging about in the drawers. He found what he was looking for, a long sharp kitchen knife. He tried its weight in his hand. It felt good. He sauntered back in, the knife swinging in his hand. He walked menacingly towards her. “You haven’t got the guts.” She smiled. He kept coming, her expression quickly changed, her face contorted into ugliness, with horror and fear. “Look we can talk. You wanted to talk, let’s talk.” She panicked. He kept coming. He raised the knife above his head. At that moment things struck him with such clarity. He was more sure about this than he had ever been about anything. “We can talk, I’ll make dinner. You can spend the night.” She chattered nervously. He smiled. He knew exactly what he was going to do. At this moment in time everything was right. He plunged the knife down; there was a flash of silver, a scream. He felt warm liquid splash onto his face and clothes. He couldn’t stop; he just kept plunging the knife.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Her screams quickly stopped, only to be replaced by a gurgling sound. There was what sounded like a deep sigh, her body stopped struggling and slumped back against the wall. Calm. He felt completely calm. The room was filled by an eerie silence. No more screaming, no more kicking. He looked down at himself, surveying the scene. Red, all he could see was red, everything was red. The carpet, the walls, the chairs, the sideboard, the pictures on the sideboard, himself. Even her, lying there slumped against the wall. It wasn’t regret he felt, he felt sorry. He felt sorry for her. He picked up her lifeless body and hugged her, tears streaming down his face. He put her body down and walked into the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. He took out a safety razor and started to dismantle it. He laid out a handkerchief and placed the razor blade on it and folded it up, making sure he didn’t cut himself. He put the handkerchief into his pocket and walked back through to the living room. He looked down at her blood soaked body, she looked almost peaceful. He gently picked her up and laid her down on the sofa. He pushed her hair away from her face and kissed her gently on the forehead. He quietly said his goodbyes and walked back into the bathroom.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx *****

Tears were streaming down his face as he lay in the bath. His memories now complete, he could picture her lying quietly on the sofa. If only he hadn’t followed her, but if she hadn’t shouted at him. All ifs and buts. There was nothing he could do now. Things had taken their course. He wiped the tears from his eyes and leaned forward and picked up the razor blade. He turned it over and over in his hand. He couldn’t go back now; he had to go through with it. He had to do at least one thing right. He rested the razor blade against his wrist; a shiver went down his spine as he did so. The blade was cold, so cold. He lowered his arm under the water and rested the blade against his wrist; he couldn’t feel its chill anymore. He took two deep breaths, then slowly and carefully he drew the blade across his wrist. He watched as the water slowly turned red. He watched as the redness filled the whole bath. Red was such a pretty colour.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx He was upset that things weren’t happening quickly enough. He switched the blade into the other hand and cuts his right wrist. Not as carefully as the other as he was right handed and his left hand was weak. He dropped the blade and slumped lower into the bath. He felt sick. His eyes felt heavy, he needed to sleep. He could see her face beckoning him. He tried to reach out to her, but couldn’t. He felt tired. He closed his eyes, he felt better already. Everything was dark; he was surrounded by emptiness. Then he saw her; she was beckoning him forward. He followed. As he reached her, she held out her hand, he took it and she was smiling.

WHATEVER HAPPENED TO RUSSELL HARTY?

The pain was aching in her bones. She had to ease the pain. Johnny had told her she had to wait, but she couldn’t. She needed to ease the pain. Her bones were melting, her body was collapsing. She needed relief, she needed it now. The doorway wasn’t very far away. She knew she would find her saviour in that doorway. He was always there, night or day. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx She approached the doorway; she tried hurriedly to make herself look less desperate. She smoothed down her hair, which was becoming matted with sweat. She straightened her skirt and adjusted her jacket. She wasn’t wholly satisfied, but it would have to do. She walked up to the doorway. She knocked on the heavy steel door. The letterbox opened slightly. “What you want?” A gruff voice mumbled. She tried not to sound too desperate, but she needed to stop the pain, “I gotta score.” “Mmm.” The voice stayed calm and patient. He’d been through this several times before. “Come on, I need some stuff.” She couldn’t stay calm any longer, she was desperate, and the pain was getting worse. “Show us the colour of your money.” She stuffed her hand into the pocket of her denim jacket and pulled out a bunch of crumpled notes. “Put it through the door.” “What all of it?” “Whatta ya think this is a charity?” She reluctantly put the money through the letterbox. The hand on the other side grabbed it quickly. She could hear footsteps walking away from the door. She waited for what seemed to be an age. Still nobody came.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Oi come on!” She banged the door heavily. She regretted that straight away, her hands felt as if they were burning. The letterbox opened and a small piece of foil was pushed through. She grabbed it and lurched away from the door. She walked the short distance to the stairwell and slouched down against the wall. She rummaged in her top pocket and pulled out a tobacco tin. She placed the tin carefully on the floor, and opened it. Inside was a small rubber tube, a zippo lighter, a teaspoon and a syringe. She opened out the piece of foil; her eyes sparkled as she saw the contents of the foil. She poured the contents of the foil carefully onto the teaspoon. She held the teaspoon carefully in one hand, the other she held the zippo and lit it under the teaspoon. She waited as the gluey liquid bubbled lightly. She put the zippo back in the tin and lifted up the syringe. With the ease of a confident professional she drew the liquid up into the syringe. She stared at the syringe with fascination as she tapped it lightly, and squirted a tiny amount out, to make the bubbles disappear. She took the rubber tube, pulled up her jacket sleeve and tied it round her arm and pulled it tight. She slapped her forearm to bring up the veins. She negotiated her way through several old scars and pushed the syringe into her arm. She drew some blood into the syringe, watching as it swirled slowly, mixing with the liquid. She pushed down on the syringe, making sure that everything went in. She felt the rush, her eyes glazed over, she pulled the syringe slowly from her arm and lets it fall to the ground. She didn’t hear it hit the ground, by then she was miles away. Soaring higher and higher. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx She closed her eyes and watched the colours flashing across as she held her eyes tightly shut. She felt something touch her feet. “Ya dirty junkie bitch!” She didn’t know how much time had passed or where she was. She moaned slightly. “Shift yer fuckin’ arse!” She stretched and rubbed her eyes, as if waking from a deep sleep. “Ah told ya t’ shift yer fuckin arse ya bitch!” She moaned again. That was when she felt the first kick. Her ribs burned. She instinctively rolled over and curled up in a ball. “Ya bitch! Ya fuckin’ junkie bitch!” She could feel the pain spreading all over her body as the kicks rained down on her head, back and legs. She just covered herself up until they got bored. “Yer nothin’ but shit.” A final kick was put in for good measure, and then they walked away. She waited for a while, making sure that they had gone, then she picked herself up and collected her stuff and put it back in the tobacco tin. Placing the tin carefully back in her jacket she cautiously stood up and hobbled down the stairs.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx She walked out into the open, she felt the cold wind it her and pulled her denim jacket close to her and walked with her arms over her chest as if hugging herself. As she walked she limped heavily; she could feel the pain aching in her legs and back. She dreaded to think what she looked like. She walked across the stretch of wasteland that separated each of the five tower blocks. She approached one of the blocks and walked inside. She didn’t even try for the lift, she knew it would be broken, it was always broken. She limped up the stairs, ignoring the graffiti that covered nearly every inch of the walls. She reached the fifth floor and pushed her way through the door and down the corridor. Every corridor and every floor looked identical in this block, but she knew exactly where she was heading. Every door she passed looked the same, but she stopped at one that looked a little more run down than most. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a single key and pushed it into the yale lock and pushed the door open. She pulled the key back out of the door and pushed it shut. The flat was very bare, the wallpaper was peeling off the wall, the carpet looked worn and threadbare. A single dishevelled sofa sat against the wall, facing an old television. To one side was a door that led to the bedroom, on the other side were two doors, one lead to the tiny kitchen and the other to the bathroom.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx She took her jacket off and threw it onto the sofa and walked into the bathroom and put the plug into the bath and started the taps running. She then walked back into the main room; she kicked off her shoes and looked out the window. It was raining now; she was lucky she got in when she did. She could hear the bath steadily filling. She pulled her T-shirt off over her head and pulled her skirt down and threw them both onto the sofa, next to her jacket. She looked about for her radio, eventually finding it in the kitchen and walked into the bathroom. The bath was now full and the steam was slowly filling the room. She put the radio down on the floor and turned it on. The music filled the room. She looked down at her body; she could see the red marks that would soon turn into bruises. She unclipped her bra, putting it down on the floor and then she pulled off her knickers, placing them next to her bra on the floor. She gingerly dipped her foot into the water, finding it to her satisfaction she climbed in and gently lowered herself into the water. Feeling its warmth spreading over her body, glad that the heat seemed to relieve the pain. Again she looked down at her body, watching it float in the water, already there were bruises growing on her legs and one large one on her ribs. She slipped under the water, soaking her hair, holding her breath as she let herself drift. She pushed herself back above the

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gã|áàxw _Éäx surface and gasped for air. The music getting louder as she came back up. She brushed her hair back from her face and watched the steam rising slowly from the bath. She could feel herself getting tired, so she braced her feet against the end of the bath, to stop herself from sinking under. Her peace was shattered, as there was suddenly a thudding on the front door. She jumped slightly and hauled herself reluctantly out of the bath. She came out of the bathroom and limped over to the bedroom. In the bedroom she picked up a blue bathrobe and draped it over her shoulders. There was another thudding on the door. “Alright, alright. I’m coming.” The door thudded again. “Hold your horses, I said I was coming.” Just as she reached the door it was thumped again. She yanked it open. “What the hell’d you want?” She looked at the scruffily dressed man in the doorway as he pushed past her and walked into the main room and plonked himself down on the sofa. “Yeah sure Johnny, why don’t you just come in.” She closed the front door and followed Johnny back into the main room. Johnny looked her up and down. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “What happened to you? You look like shit.” She pulled the gown tighter round her. “Nuthin’.” “Don’t look like nuthin’.” “It’s nuthin’ alright. Just leave it.” “Touchy, touchy.” “Aaw piss off Johnny.” She slumped onto the sofa next to him. He leaned closer to her. “Sally?” He whined, “Got anything?” “What? After you wouldn’t give me any last night, you can go fuck yourself!” “I was only askin Sal.” “Well don’t alright.” They sat in silence for a short while; Johnny kept trying to look down the front of Sally’s robe, intrigued by the bruise growing on her chest. “How’d you get the bruise?” “Eh?” “The bruise. How’d you get the bruise?” “I fell.” She lied. “Oh.” He seemed satisfied with that answer.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx They both stared into space, Sally drummed her fingers on the arm of the sofa, and Johnny blew air through his cheeks. “Got any fags?” She asked. Johnny patted his pockets and put his hand into one and pulled out a crumpled pack. He gave one to Sally and took one himself. He pulled out a box of matches and struck one, holding it carefully on the end of his cigarette. He took a few puffs, making sure it was lit then shook the match out. “Hey what about me?” Johnny huffed and reluctantly lit another match and held it for Sally. When the cigarette was lit she leaned back and took a long satisfying puff, breathing the fumes into her lungs; she revelled in it as she blew the smoke out into the air. “What ever happened to Russell Harty?” “You what?” “I was just wondering what ever happened to him.” “You know Johnny, sometimes you can be a complete fruit loop.” “Well I mean one minute he was there next minute he wasn’t.” “Sounds like most of your friends.” “What you mean?” “Well, look at Sam, he’s dead. Jerry’s in hospital, Lisa’s dead, Pez’s dead, Joe’s dead. Why even your brother’s bitten the bullet.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Yeah, but he was a tit.” “What about the others, were they tits as well?” “They were just unlucky.” “Stupid more like.” “Look who’s talking, you ain’t exactly Mother Teresa.” “All I’m saying is, don’t you think it’s about time we were a little more careful.” “I think it’s a bit late for that.” “Yeah, s’pose your right.” She got up and walked into the kitchen and rummaged about in one of the cupboards for a while. She came back, beaming, waving a small plastic baggie in the air. “Wanna score?” Johnny smiled, “You read my mind.” She put the baggie on the floor; a small piece of foil like the ones she had used earlier was inside it. She reached over to her jacket, on the sofa and brought out her tobacco tin. Johnny was already one step ahead of her and was tightening a rubber tube round the top of his arm. “Come on get some cooking.” Johnny was getting anxious. Sally lit the zippo and held it steadily under the teaspoon. “Come on.” Sally was lost in concentration as the liquid started to bubble. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Where’s the medicine.” “Hold your horses.” Sally drew the liquid up it the syringe; “It’s nearly ready.” She handed the syringe over to him. He quickly jabbed the syringe into his arm and pushed the plunger down. His eyes glazed over and rolled to the top of his head, he leaned back and fell against the chair. Sally started cooking up another shot, her hands were now shaking, and she had to fight to keep the syringe steady as she drew the liquid into the syringe. She pushed the syringe into her arm, pausing slightly as she flinched from the pain, and then she pushed down and let the stuff flow into her arm. Suddenly she felt loose and relaxed, her minded started to swim, colours seemed vibrant, but detail eluded her. She closed her eyes and watched the colours fly across her vision. She relaxed her entire body and slumped backwards onto the floor. When she came too, her legs were sore, she tried to move, but her muscles felt as if they were being crushed. She looked down at her legs and saw the still unconscious Johnny sprawled across her legs, pinning her to the ground. She shook herself to try and move him, but he wouldn’t budge. She kicked and wriggled, but she couldn’t move him. She stretched over and grabbed the side of the sofa and pulled herself, gradually coming free from under Johnny.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Exhausted from the effort she slumped on the sofa and stared down at Johnny. She brought her feet up and sprawled out on the sofa, eventually falling asleep. She woke up and stretched, yawning. She got up and walked over to the kitchen, stepping over the still unconscious body of Johnny. She filled the kettle from the tap. As she waited for the water to boil she stared down at the bruise on her chest which was now starting to turn purple. She got two mugs and puts a tea bag in one of them. The kettle clicked itself off as the water came to the boil. She picked it up and poured the water into both mugs. Stirring the first one she lifted the tea bag out and put it in the other mug and started to stir it. Satisfied that the tea was ready, she picked out the tea bag and dumped it into the sink. She picked up both mugs and walked back into the main room. “Tea’s up.” Johnny didn’t move. She put the mugs down on the small table under the window. “Hey lazy bones. I’ve made you some tea.” Still Johnny didn’t move. “Hey shithead!” She kicked Johnny’s leg. Still he didn’t move. “Quit kidding around Johnny.” She was starting to panic, and kicked him again. Still he didn’t move.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx She fell to her knees next to him and started to shake him. “Johnny! Wake up Johnny!” She shook him harder. Still he didn’t move. Sally was now nearly hysterical; she rolled Johnny onto his front and slapped his face. Still he didn’t move. “Johnny!” She slapped him again, “Johnny!” She got up and started to run from side to side like a headless chicken, tears streaming down her face. There was a gurgling sound coming from Johnny. Sally quickly shot down to his side. He didn’t seem to move then there was a dribble of vomit from the side of his mouth. She moved closer to his mouth, to see if she could feel any breath, but there was nothing. She sat back on her heels, as she looked at Johnny she noticed that he was turning slightly blue. She held his hand and rocked back and forwards crying quietly to herself. “Johnny.” She sniffed and wiped the tears from her face. She lay down next to him, putting her body close to his. She moved his arms over her shoulders, so it looked as if Johnny was hugging her and holding her close.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx

CHRISTMAS CHEER

“Come on you lot! Get a move on!” The foreman shouted above noise the machines. “He should bloody well try it for once.” Maggie shouted to Davina. “Aye.” Davina shouted, “Bet he disnae know one end o these machines fae the other.” “Aye, he cannae even find his own dick in the bogs.” Maggie cackled. “Christ!” Davina pretended to be shocked, “You’re bloody awful.” “Aye, but that’s the way they like it.” Maggie thrust her chest out and howled laughing. Davina waved her hand at her dismissively, tears were coming from her eyes, but she put her head down as the foreman walked past. “Mornin’ ladies.” “Morning Mr Crawford.” They both chimed like school children. “Bloody bastard.” They both said to each other, when his back was turned.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx They continued to work at their machines, pushing the material through, as the needle danced up and down. Nobody had a clue what the end product of their stitching was, each workgroup stitched a different part of a garment, and so only the design department really knew what was being made. Suddenly a loud hooter sounded and almost simultaneously all the machines stopped. “Right girls, tea’s up.” Maggie got up and wandered away to the canteen. The others all got up and followed her. In the canteen Maggie got her tea and sat at the head of a table. Slowly others joined, until the table was full. Maggie was in her element; it was as if she was holding court over her loyal subjects. “So yous lot.” She spoke to them all, “Whit we gonnae do aboot Christmas?” “Eh?” A young girl at the bottom of the table screwed up her face in confusion. “Well it is September.” Maggie argued, “S’bout time we got somethin’ organised.” “Come oan, there’s bloody ages yet.” Somebody else whined. “Look, if yous’re wanin a perty then were gonnae huv tae get summit organised.” “Ach, we’ve got ages yet.” Davina said.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “We said that last time and look whit kinda shite we ended up wi.” “Aye, but it’ll be different this time, no?” Davina tried to reason. “Aint the work organisin’ a do or somethin’?” One of the girls asked. “Aye, but they’re usually pish are they no?” Davina laughed. “Too right.” Maggie joined in. “So what you planin’ then?” The same girl asked. “How bout a night at one of those hotels in town. You know like a ceilidh or somethin’.” Maggie said. “Aye, sounds good.” Some of the older ladies agreed. “Ach, ah cannae be arsed wi none o that dressin’ up and dancin’ lark.” One of the younger girls said. “Aye, too right.” Most of the other girls agreed. “How bout a night at the dancin’.” A tall girl said as she passed the table. “Och Colette, you’re always up the dancin’.” Maggie moaned. “That’s why Ah’m always havin’ a good time.” Colette sneered, “And yous are stuck in front of the telly aw night.” Colette continued to walk past, revelling in the fact that all eyes were now staring at her. “See that Colette.” Maggie whispered. “Aye Ah know.” Davina answered. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “She’s got the right idea has she no?” One of the girls said. “You dinnae wannae end up like her though, do you Sharon?” Maggie said. “How no?” Sharon asked. “You mean you huvnae heard the stories aboot her?” “Whit stories?” Sharon was intrigued. “Aye right enough, you’re too young tae underston’.” “Ah’m sixteen, course Ah can underston’.” Sharon insisted. “Well.” Maggie beckoned her forward; “Ah’m no one tae gossip, but . . .” Maggie doesn’t get the chance to finish what she was saying as the hooter sounded again, announcing the end of the tea break. They all got up and made their way back to their workstations, throwing their paper coffee cups into the bins on their way past.

*****

The rest of the day past uneventfully. When the final hooter sounded, signalling the end of the day, there is a massive sense of relief from everybody as they all got up in unison and went to collect their coats. “God my back’s bloody killin’ us.” Maggie stretched herself.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Yer back’s always killin’ ye.” Colette gibed, “If it’s no yer back then it’s summit else.” “Shut it, ya mangy cow!” Maggie bellowed, “Ah’ve had it up tae here wi you.” “Yeah, yeah.” Colette dismissed her with a wave of her hand. As Colette turned her back Maggie made as if to hit Colette on the back of the head, but didn’t go through with it. Colette carried on, blissfully unaware. Colette came out of the entrance as she turned the corner she nearly bumped into Sharon, who was waiting for her. “Hiya Colette.” Sharon chirped. “Eh, hi?” Colette replied, slightly puzzled. “So whit you doin the night then?” Sharon asked excitedly. “Nothin much, how?” “Ah was just like, kinda, like, you know?” Sharon stammered. “Eh, yeah right.” Colette shook her head, not having a clue as to what Sharon was going on about. “It was just like, if you wis goin oot ta the dancin’ then Ah wis gonnae ask if Ah could come alang?” “Ah dunno, Ah mean we’ve got work tomora. I dinnae wannae get the blame fur makin you late. Ah mean whit happens if ye fall asleep at yer machine.” “Dinnae worry aboot that. Ah promise, none aw that’ll happen.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Ah dunno.” “Aaw go on Colette please? Please?” Sharon begged. “Aye awright if you want. Meet us at the Savvy the night at ten.” “Aye right, Savvy at ten, no worries Ah’ll be there.” Sharon said excitedly. “Aye right fine.” Colette said calmly and carried on her way. Sharon stood shaking excitedly, “Yes, yes.” Colette walked up the road and looked back at Sharon, as she was about to cross the road. She could see Sharon virtually jumping up and down on the spot. Colette shook her head, she wished she could still get that excited over a night out.

*****

Half past nine that night and Sharon was standing outside The Savoy nightclub, dressed in all her finery, waiting for Colette. She paced up and down, she didn’t want to get into the queue, she wanted to wait for Colette. She knew she was early, but she thought she’d get there with plenty of time to spare. Ten o’clock came and went, still no sign of Colette. Half past ten still no sign. Sharon made up her mind to finally join the queue and just go in herself.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Fifteen minutes in the queue and finally she got in. Her eyes took a while to adjust to the gloom, but what’s the first thing she saw, Colette chatting to two guys at the bar. Sharon strode purposefully over. “Hiya Sharon.” Colette said. “You said you’d meet us at ten, Ah’ve been waitin’ ootside fur bloody ages. Where’ve you been?” “Ah said Ah’d meet you here, so Ah’ve been waitin’ here.” “You never said anythin’ aboot inside.” “Where else would Ah mean?” Colette argued, “Anyway it disnae matter, you’re here noo. Gavin here’ll buy you a drink.” Gavin look slightly put out by this but went along with it, “Whit you havin’ then?” “A Southern Comfort, thanks.” “Ooo, startin’ oan the hard stuff.” Colette joked. “Well, Ah might as well start as Ah mean tae go oan, noo thit Ah’m here.” As the night went on Sharon got steadily more drunk, but Colette hardly noticed, as she was having too good a time dancing with nearly every man that came near her. By the end of the night Sharon was completely plastered. Colette was just about to leave with one of the guys when Gavin came running up to her. “Whit aboot yer mate?” Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Whit mate?” “The one oar there in the corner.” He pointed at Sharon who was lying across a couple of seats, fast asleep. “You look aftir her.” “Whit? But Ah’ve hud tae babysit hur aw night. Ah don’t even bloody know hur.” “Tuff titty.” Colette shrugged and walked out. “Aaw great, just fuckin’ great.” Gavin wandered back to Sharon and tried to raise her from her slumber, “Wake up, c’moan, wake up will you.” Sharon moaned slightly and raised her head slightly, “Uuugh.” Was all she could manage to say. “Let’s get you oot a here.” Gavin lifted her up and put her arm round his neck and walked her outside. As the fresh air hit her, Sharon’s face turned green and she gurgled. “Aaaw shit, yer no gonnae puke, no oan me yer no.” Gavin dragged her to the side of the building, where she duly vomited all down the wall and her front. “Aaaw Christ, look at the state aw y’.” Gavin reached into his pocket and pulled out a grubby hankie. “Thanks.” Sharon said groggily and took the hankie and wiped her mouth with it.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Here let’s get you home.” Gavin hailed a passing cab. They both climbed inside. “Where too mate?” The cab driver asked. “Where’d you live?” Gavin turned to Sharon, but he noticed that she was already asleep, “Maryhill Road.” “Where aboots, it’s a bloody big road you know?” “Wilton Street.” “Okay.” The cab driver drove off. When they arrived outside his flat Gavin had to drag Sharon out of the cab and carry her up the stairs. He closed the door of the flat behind him, rested Sharon against the wall and paused for breath. He carried her into the bedroom, undressed her and put her to bed, he then put her clothes into the washing machine and walked into his living room and fell asleep on the sofa.

*****

Sharon woke up, her head was killing her, she looked around her, she hadn’t a clue as to where she was. She got gingerly out of bed, she panicked as she realised she was naked, she couldn’t see her clothes anywhere. What the hell had she done last night? She opened one of the cupboards; it was full of men’s clothes. She was getting more and more worried, she put one of the shirts on, to cover up her modesty and peeked out of the bedroom. Oh my god! There

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gã|áàxw _Éäx was a bloke asleep on the sofa. She closed the door and sat back down on the bed. What was she going to do? How was she going to explain this to her Mum? She could here noise coming from the other room; the bloke must have woken up. There was a knock on the bedroom door. “Are you up yet, Ah’ve brought you some tea.” Sharon got up off the bed and climbed under the covers and pulled them up to her neck. Just as she did that the door opened and in came Gavin carrying two mugs of tea. “Oh, you’re up, Ah wasnae sure if you were or no?” He said nervously, “Ah brought you some tea.” He came over and handed one of the mugs. Sharon took it gingerly. “Where am Ah?” She asked. “My flat.” “Ah kinda gathered that.” She said sarcastically, “But how’d the hell Ah get here?” “You dinnae mind?” “Ma heeds too sore tae mind anyhin’.” “Ah don’t know if Ah should tell you.” “Christ, you didn’t do anythin’ to me?” Sharon started to panic.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “No nuthin’ like that.” Gavin was shocked, “You got pissed, past oot in the taxi home. Ah didnae know where you lived, so Ah brought you back here.” “Oh.” She sounded slightly disappointed. They got chatting and found that they had a lot in common, they liked the same sort of music, the same telly programmes and most importantly of all they supported the same football team. “Christ, what’s the time!” Sharon suddenly realised she was late. “Half nine.” “Shite, Ah’m late.” She got up and ran about the room, “Where’s ma clothes?” “They’re in the wash.” “Shit!” “Here you can wear these.” Gavin pulled a pair of jeans and a T-shirt out of the cupboard and threw them on the bed. “Ta.” Sharon took the clothes, Gavin stood watching, “Eh, do you mind leaving, Ah’m tryin’ tae change.” “Oh aye yeah, sorry.” Gavin walked sheepishly out of the room. Sharon got quickly changed and came out of the room, “How’d Ah look?” “Great.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Look Ah’d better be going.” Sharon rushed to the door, “Thanks, yeah.” Gavin stood at the door watching her run down the stairs, “Will Ah see you again?” “Yeah.” He heard her shout.

*****

Sharon arrived at work, just her luck; the first person she met was Mr Crawford, the foreman. “And what time do you call this young lady?” “Ah’m sorry Mr Crawford, it’ll no happen again.” “It’d better not, or I’ll have you on report. Now get to your machine.” “Yes Mr Crawford.” She walked quickly to her machine; she could feel the eyes of all the other girls watching her. “Must’ve been a good night, look at the state o hur.” She could hear Maggie say to Davina. Things went all right until teabreak. Maggie and Davina came right up to her. “Whit’s this aboot you spendin’ the night wi a fella?” Maggie asked abruptly.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Eh?” “C’moan, we wanna know aw boot it.” Davina nudged her in the ribs. “There’s nothin’ to tell.” “Aaw c’moan, dinnae be a spoilsport.” “Look there’s nothin’ tae tell.” “Be that way then.” Maggie and Davina wandered off, probably to make up their own stories about her. Sharon cornered Colette in the locker room. “Whit you been tellin’ em aboot us?” “Whit?” “The two wicked witches, whit you been tellin’ em?” “Ah couldnae help it, they kept pestering us.” Colette protested, “Anyways, they’d seen us together, so they jist kinda pit two n’ two tae gither.” “Well jist keep yer mouth shut in future.” “Aye right nae problem. Jees it wis jist a bit o fun.” “Aye, well jist make sure Ah don’t hear any mair stories aboot us.” “Aye, aye.” Colette shrugged her way past Sharon. Sharon hoped she’d heard the end of the matter, but she knew somehow that she hadn’t.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx *****

Over the next few months Sharon kept seeing Gavin, they had a great time, but at work she kept getting pestered on all sides about him, but she wouldn’t tell them anything, she wanted to keep him a secret, at least for now anyway. Eventually it was the time of the work’s Christmas party. Some were looking forward to it, others were dreading it. These things had a tendency to get out of hand. Sharon was more nervous than most, she’d decided that now was the time to introduce Gavin to everybody. Gavin was worried as well, “Ah dinnae know if Ah wannae go, Ah mean, whit happens if they dinnae like us?” “Who gives a shit if they like you or no.” Sharon tried to cheer him up, “Ah like you and that’s aw that matters.” “Aaw, you know sometimes you say the nicest things.” “Does that mean you’ll come?” “Aye awright, seein’ as you asked so nicely.” “Great.” Sharon hugged Gavin tightly and kissed him. “Christ if Ah’d known you’d act like this Ah’d have said aye ages ago.” Gavin laughed. The night of the party came, Sharon couldn’t decide what to wear, and she spent most of the time once work had finished changing in and out of various different outfits, never satisfied with Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx whichever one she chose. Eventually she asked her Mum which one she should wear. After a parade of eight outfits they eventually decided on one. Then she spent the next half-hour deciding which shoes she should wear. Eventually she was ready. Colette put on her usual outfit, a skimpy little black dress and a very tight black top. It didn’t leave much to the imagination, but that was the way she liked it. She sprayed herself with a heady mix of perfumes. Tonight, like any other, she was going to get drunk and get herself a man; she didn’t much care who, so long as he was under thirty, that was all that mattered. She knew all those horrid old sweaty bosses would be watching her, but that was all they were going to do. They could look, but they couldn’t touch. Maggie sat in front of the mirror plastering her face with make up. She checked her hair, adjusted it slightly, then checked it again and adjusted it a little more. She stood up and walked over to her bed, lying on the bed was her best party frock, a gaudy pink dress that was all frills and folds, it was the same dress that her late husband used to take her ballroom dancing in. She pulled it on over her head and checked her self in the mirror. She adjusted her hair again, and sat back down in front of the mirror and started to apply more make up to her face, whistling Christmas carols to herself as she did so. Davina ran about her room like a blue arsed fly, she was late she knew she was going to be late, the kids had been playing up, screaming and shouting the house down. She tried to get Arthur, her husband, to look after them, but he refused to do anything until he’d Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx had his tea, so she had to make that first before she could get ready. So now she had to rush, she only spent a small time in front of the mirror, she didn’t much care how she looked she just wanted to get out of the house. Gavin just threw a few things on, a pair of trousers and a casual shirt. No tie, he couldn’t stand ties, he always felt he was being strangled whenever he wore one. He put on his jacket and he was ready.

*****

The work had hired out a small hall for the Christmas party. One of the lads from despatches was doing the disco later on; a local band had been hired for the ceildh. The hall wasn’t very busy, most of the people that were there were bosses. There was the odd ordinary person, but they were hanging about nervously, not quite sure of what to do. Eventually more and more people started wandering into the hall and the atmosphere slowly livened up. Davina rushed in thinking she was late, but suddenly realised she was early. She wandered over to the bar and made an early start on the drinks. A sort time after Maggie made her grand entrance, a few heads turned, but not many. She spotted Davina at the bar and headed over. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Colette strode in, every man’s head turned to watch her as she walked slowly across the dancefloor, revelling in the feeling. “Look at that tart.” Maggie said jealously. “Nuthin’ but a slut.” Davina agreed, downing another drink. “Evenin’ ladies.” Colette said as she passed. They ignored her, pretending to be having their own conversation. Colette sat down at a seat at the end of the bar. Seconds after she sat down a young guy sat down next to her and started buying her drinks. The ceilidh band started up, the bosses and their wives got up and started to dance. A few others reluctantly joined in. Maggie and Davina sat at the bar making snide comments about various people as they passed. Colette continued to accept the favours of her newfound friend. Sharon and Gavin stood outside the door about to go in. “Ah telt you we’d be late.” Gavin argued. “Ach quit yer moanin’, everything’ll be awright.” Sharon straightened her dress and pushed her way through the door. “Will ye look at that.” Maggie nudged Davina as she saw Sharon come through the door. “Whit?” Davina was more upset about spilling some of her drink, “Oh aye yeah. Who’s tha wi her?” “Must be her man.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Bit thin is he no?” “Och, ah suppose she must like them that way.” “Prefer mine wi a bit o meat on them know whit ah mean?” Davina laughed. “Ach ya dirty cow.” Maggie joked, “Fancy anur?” “Aye same again, ta.” Maggie ordered another round of drinks. Colette was still getting chatted up. “D’you wan anur drink hen?” “Aye, go on then.” Colette was going to try and take this guy for every penny he had on him. “So do ya come here often then likesay but?” How many times had she heard that line? God, this guy wasn’t even original. She let him buy her a few more drinks, but when a nicer looking guy who had more expensive taste came along she latched onto him. She spent the entire night drifting from man to man until she found one she was satisfied. Sharon felt very self-conscious until the disco started, she didn’t know any of the Scottish dances, so neither her or Gavin bothered joining in, but they were the first ones up when the disco started.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx The crowd on the dancefloor completely changed when the disco started, the old fogies walked off and the young people walked on. The lights dimmed and the disco lights started flashing. “Wid you look at the way they two are dancin’?” Maggie pointed at Sharon and Gavin. “God it’s disgustin’.” “Virtually pornographic.” “Talkin’ o pornographic look at that Colette one.” “God isn’t that Roy from accounts?” “Aye, looks like it.” “Isn’t he married?” “Since when’s that stoapped Colette.” “Aye right enuff.” Maggie laughed. The drink seemed to be getting to her; she shoved out her hand to keep her balance as she slipped off her chair. “Looks like someone’s havin a good time.” Sharon whispered in Gavin’s ear as they danced close together. “Eh?” “Look ower there at Maggie she’s fallen ontae the flaer.” “Christ, whit a sight.” Gavin laughed as they watched Davina trying to lift Maggie back up onto her seat. Gavin caught something out of the corner of his eye; he glanced over at one of the darker corners of the hall.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Christ, will you look at those two, looks like they’re gonnae suck each others faces off.” Sharon looked over and saw Colette and Roy in a passionate embrace; Colette was all over him like a bad rash. “Looks like she’s havin’ a good time anyway.” Sharon giggled. “Fancy havin’ a try?” Gavin smiled. “No here.” Sharon looked shocked. “How bout back at my place?” “It’s a corny line Gav, but Ah’ve fallen for it?” She smiled. “Ah’ll go get yer coat.” Gavin went off eagerly and returned seconds later with Sharon’s coat. “Ah’m ready.” Sharon put her coat on. They both left arm in arm in a bit of a rush. Colette finished kissing Roy. “Is there somewhere we can go?” Colette whispered in Roy’s ear. “Ah’ve got ma car parked out back.” Roy suggested. Colette smiled and they both left quickly, Roy was already undoing his tie. “You know wha?” Maggie slurred, her hair was all out of place and her dress now looked worse for wear. “Wha’s at?” Davina’s head was slumped on the table, she was nearly asleep.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Maggie burped and scratched herself, “No one o these bastards wid match up tae ma Frank.” “Aye yer right, yer right there, he were a luvly man.” “Aye a luvly man.” Maggie said dreamily, staring off into space. Davina closed her eyes and fell asleep. Maggie stared at Davina as she started snoring. She didn’t even notice as the lights were turned off, signalling the end of another ordinary run of the mill Christmas party.

BRIAN’S BROTHER’S BIKE

Brian sat at his bedroom window watching the world go by. He could see for miles from his high sentry point. He lived with his mother on the fourteenth floor of the tower block, it was actually the thirteenth floor, but the council was superstitious and decided to make all the tower blocks go from the twelfth floor to the fourteenth. He watched the other children playing down below, so many times he’d wanted to run down and join in their innocent looking games, but his mother would never allow him. He can hear her now talking to the neighbours, “Brian’s a delicate child, he doesn’t seem to mix well with others.” That’s because he never got the bloody chance, his mother had wrapped him in cotton wool after Garry’s death. She never allowed him to play or to leave their small flat, and when they did he would

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gã|áàxw _Éäx always have to be accompanied by his mother or by one of his many auntie’s. Brian’s Mum came from a large family; she was one of six sisters and three brothers. Being the youngest in her family she had always been slightly spoiled, each of her sisters acted like a mother towards her. They were all delighted when she married, but were even more delighted when she had her two boys Garry and Brian. It wasn’t long after Brian's birth that her husband left her. All the sisters came round, claiming that they all knew he was a bad egg, and the brothers threatened to kick the shit out of him if they ever saw him again. Garry was the apple of his mother’s eye. Brian, however, seemed to be neglected slightly because of a misplaced belief that he was the cause of the marriage breaking up. Garry was four years older than Brian and was the more outgoing and popular of the brothers. They went almost everywhere together, outwardly they seemed to get along together. Brian idolised Garry, he wanted to be Garry, to do the things that he did, to say the things that he said. But Garry thought Brian was a bit of a nuisance, every time he wanted to go out, his Mum made him take Brian with him. So Brian was like a stone round Garry’s neck, he cramped his style, especially when he wanted to be with his mates. But there was one good thing, Brian seemed to help Garry pull the girls, he didn’t know what it was, but every time he took Brian with him the girls seemed to come flocking.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Brian used to watch in awe the way that Garry would show off around the girls. Brian was ten years old and Garry was fourteen, but Brian was picking up all sorts of habits and mannerisms from Garry. Brian though, never had his brother’s success with girls, maybe it was because all the girls he knew were older than him, maybe it was because none of the girls wanted this pale imitation of Garry, when they could so easily have the real thing. His lack of success made him disappear slightly into his shell, but Garry had realised Brian’s uses, and used him as an excuse to visit his many girlfriends. At the age of sixteen Garry had five regular girlfriends, none of whom knew the existence of the other, and Garry used to tell his mother that he was taking his brother out for a walk. His mother would quite readily let them go, knowing that with Brian in tow, Garry couldn’t possibly get into any trouble. Little did she know that as soon as they were out of the flat Garry would give Brian fifty pence and tell him to meet him in a couple of hours at the swings. It hadn’t always been like that though. Garry used to actually take Brian on the dates with him, but one time he caught Brian spying on him while he was necking in the park. He made a fuss of getting rid of Brian, but Brian just retreated to a safer vantagepoint, where he could watch them without getting spotted. Brian continued to do this as Garry’s dates got more and more adventurous. Brian followed Garry one evening, after Garry had tried to bribe Brian with another fifty pence piece. He watched Garry meet up with a girl, a different one, Brian hadn’t seen her before, he followed them to the back of the estate. There was a large wire fence and then Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx some waste ground and a small wood at the back of the estate. Garry and the girl crawled through a gap in the fence and walked across the waste ground towards the wood. Brian dutifully followed. He nearly lost them in the wood, but soon caught sight of the girl’s lurid coloured jacket. They approached an old caravan; the girl produced a small bunch of keys from her jacket pocket and opened the caravan door. They both climbed inside and Garry shut the door behind him. Brian sat down next to a tree and tried to make himself comfortable, he watched the caravan intently, but nothing was happening. He was just about to get up and leave when he noticed that the caravan was gently rocking from side to side. He wondered why this would be happening. As the caravan swayed it squeaked slightly, above the squeaking Brian could hear a moaning sound which seemed to be getting steadily more frantic. He was desperate to know what was going on inside. He picked himself up and crept quietly towards the caravan, he tried to see in the window but he wasn’t tall enough to see anything. He looked around him and saw a couple of old crates, he piled them on top of each other and clambered on top of them. He peered inside the window, he couldn’t see much; the window was steaming up. All he could make out was a white blob that seemed to be quivering quickly. He strained to see more, but he stumbled and the crates fell from under him. The moaning quickly stopped, Brian scrambled to the safety of the bushes, from there he looked back and could see his brothers red face looking out of the window. Satisfied that no one Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx was about his face disappeared from view. The moaning started again soon after. Brian was more desperate than ever to find out what all the noise was about. This time he crept towards the caravan and slowly pulled open the door, crawling on his front he peered inside. He could see Garry on top of the girl, his trousers round his ankles, and the girl’s short dress pulled up over her stomach. He watched in amazement as his brother moved quickly up and down, the girl was arching her back, she turned her head to the side and caught sight of Brian. At first there was confusion in her eyes then she screamed. Garry turned to see what she was looking at. Brian got up quickly and ran as fast as he could. He sped into the woods, Garry shot out of the caravan after him. He ran through the woods for what seemed to him like miles. He hid behind a large tree thinking that Garry couldn’t see him. He glanced out from behind the tree, only to find himself staring into Garry's eyes. Tears suddenly streamed down Brian’s face. Garry looked at him seriously, Brian was expecting a beating, but Garry smiled and told him not to worry, so long as Mum never found out about this then they’d both be alright. Brian nodded his head in agreement; Garry smiled and wiped the tears from Brian’s face. They both walked home best of friends, but Brian was still curious and couldn’t stop thinking about what he had seen back in the caravan. Neither of them ever said anything about that night to each other ever again, it was as if they had both made a solemn oath that night and neither of them was going to break it. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx

*****

“You make sure you don’t fall out that window.” Brian was brought back to reality with a start; he jumped slightly and leaned his hand against the window for support. “You’ll fall out that bloody window one day.” “Yes mum.” Brian moved away from the window and sat down on his bed, he picked up a comic that was lying on the bed and made as if reading it. “You never do anything Brian Duncan.” Brian nodded his head idly as he could hear his mother’s voice drone on as she walked into the kitchen, “Always dreaming, you’ll never amount to anything.” She always complained that he never did anything or went anywhere, yet every time he tried to go anywhere she would go on about how it wasn’t safe for her to be left alone in the house anymore, you never knew what might happen. So he gave up trying, he just shut himself off when she started.

*****

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gã|áàxw _Éäx He could remember the couple of days that changed all their lives as if it had happened yesterday. It happened about two years ago, just after his fourteenth birthday, it was only a few days before Garry’s eighteenth. That had always been a bit of a sore point in the family, the fact that their birthdays were only about three weeks apart. Their mother always complained that she couldn’t afford a present for both of them, so more often than not they got a joint present. But this year Brian didn’t get a present, Mum complained that she couldn’t afford anything, but when it came to Garry’s she made a great fuss over presenting him with a new bike. Garry wasn’t impressed, he’d been pestering her for a motorbike, but she had point blank refused, the bike was a sort of compromise. Brian was as jealous as hell. Yet again he was past over for his mother’s favourite. The brothers had been close, but the bike now caused a split between them, they started to slowly drift apart. Brian would watch Garry showing off on the bike. Their mother would still make sure that they would go out together, Brian would just sit on the swings, gently rocking back and forth, while Garry showed off on the bike, pulling wheelies, doing skids and just generally showing off to the girls. Nobody would notice Brian; Garry was the centre of everyone’s attention. It was then that Brian started to formulate plans of revenge, he planned to somehow get his own back. He never actually intended to go through with any of the plans, but it made him feel better just to think of them.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx One day Brian was sitting on the swing, Garry had ridden off with a group of his mates. Brian was minding his own business when a young girl sat in the swing next to him. He glanced across and recognised her as one of Garry’s girlfriends. “Hi.” Brian sniffed and continued to swing gently. “Aren’t you Garry Duncan’s brother.” Brian nodded his head, staring at his feet, he was convinced that she already knew who she was, but he was in no mood to get involved. “Brian isn’t it? Yeah it’s Brian.” Brian turned to face her, he had to squint as the sun shone into his eyes, but he could still tell she was a very attractive girl, but he couldn’t work out why she was talking to him. “You look a lot like him.” She stared intently at him, “But there’s something different about you.” All Brian’s experience with girls had been a complete disaster, he always found himself saying the wrong thing, so this time he didn’t say anything, he just turned back and continued staring at his feet. “You’re a quiet one aren’t you.” She was persistent; he’d give her that. “Here, come with me.” She stood up and took Brian’s hand, they walked together. Brian couldn’t work out why he was following her, he could so easily Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx have shaken his hand out of her grip, but he never did. They didn’t talk as they walked, she led he followed. She took him back towards the tower blocks, not the block that he lived in, but the one next to it. They walked into the lift; she pressed the button for the seventeenth floor. The lift doors closed and it started to move up. They stood in silence for a while. “Do you like your brother then?” “He’s alright.” Brian mumbled. They stood in silence again, until the lift lurched to a halt and a grinding noise sounded as the lift doors opened. She walked out and Brian followed. They walked along the gangway, the wind hitting them strongly from the side; Brian stopped and looked out over the wall. God they were high up. “Come on.” She stood next to a red door, Brian was still looking out over the wall, and he turned and looked at her. He wondered what on earth he was doing here, but then she smiled and Brian forgot everything and followed her inside. The inside of the flat was small and dingy, it was sparsely furnished, an old telly in the corner of the room, a battered old sofa against the wall. Brian noticed a large damp patch growing on the wall behind the sofa. There were two doors; behind one Brian could see an old cooker and a sink stacked full of dirty dishes. The other door led to the bedroom.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx The girl walked into the bedroom, Brian followed, but his mind was still thinking about the damp patch on the wall. Brian stood in the middle of the room, feeling gormless and lost. The girl smiled and took hold of Brian’s shoulders and moved him to the bed. She pushed him backwards slightly, he didn’t fall back he just slowly leaned back and ended up sitting on the edge of the bed. She stood back, Brian was still slightly confused, but now he was becoming more stunned, fear seemed to be creeping up on him, he felt paralysed. She lifted up her top, and took it off over her head. Her breasts transfixed Brian; he followed them as she leaned down and pulled down her skirt, she kicked it away into the corner of the room. Brian felt his mouth fall open, she came towards him and started to loosen the belt on his trousers, he didn’t know what to do, he just sort of let things happen. She pulled his trousers and then his pants down and pushed him back on the bed. She clambered on top of him. In spite of himself he could feel himself go hard. She moved mechanically up and down on top of him. Brian wasn’t sure what was happening, but he was sure of one thing, he was enjoying this. She moved expertly on top of him, Brian could tell she’d done this many times before. He could feel the pressure building up inside him, and then suddenly he felt great relief as he came. As quickly as it had started, it was over. She climbed off him and collapsed onto the bed. She sighed deeply, “You can go now.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Eh?” “You can go, we’re finished.” Brian dutifully stood up and pulled up his trousers, he fastened the belt. “Will I see you again?” She didn’t say anything; she just waved her hand dismissevly. Brian now thoroughly confused walked out of the flat. He closed the door behind him as he left and stood looking out over the wall. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he might be in love. If he met the girl again he would have to ask her her name. Several weeks passed and Brian didn’t see the girl. He waited at the swings every day expecting to see her, but she never appeared. Then one day he could see Garry and a girl in the distance. Garry was pushing his bike and talking animatedly to the girl. As they came closer he recognised the girl, he could tell it was her. He at first wondered what she was doing with Garry, but then Brian's world shattered as she leaned over and kissed Garry on the cheek. That was it, that was the last straw, now he would put his imagined plans of revenge into action. He sat in his bedroom dreaming up all sorts of plans for revenge. His thoughts were interrupted by the noise of Garry coming in the front door. Shortly after that his mother shouted that it was time for tea. He came out of his bedroom and on his way to the kitchen he passed the bike, propped up against the wall, it was then Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx that he knew what he was going to do. He just had to wait for his opportunity. He didn’t have to wait long. Garry went out one evening with his mates, surprisingly he didn’t take his bike. Brian sat waiting in his bedroom, waiting for his mother to finish her pottering about in the kitchen. Finally Brian could hear his mother go to her bed. He crept out into the hallway and pulled a pair of scissors out of his trouser pocket. He cut the break cable in half, then made a second cut slightly lower down, removing the small piece of cable he pulled out the strands of wire inside the small rubber tube and then produced a small tube of glue and put some on each end, he then put the piece back in place. He held it until he reckoned it was stuck. He stood back and admired his handiwork, he smiled to himself, the cable looked as good as new. He put the scissors and glue back into his pockets and sneaked back into his room. The next day Brian was again sitting on the swings, he knew that Garry would be out with his bike soon, and sure enough Garry came out of the flats pushing his bike along, Brian watched from the swings as Garry waited for his friends to arrive. A couple of other boys turned up on their bikes, they stopped and started chatting to Garry. The three then rode round in circles, shouting and cheering at each other. Brian had seen this routine many times before; they seemed to make all the noise to draw attention to themselves. Brian

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gã|áàxw _Éäx knew that soon they would start their races, and it would be then that Garry would get a nasty surprise. The boys stopped their circling and stood round each other. Brian knew that they would now start to race each other. Right enough they lined up along the road and started to sprint as fast as they could, they passed their imaginary finish line and they all skidded to a halt. Garry looked as if he was going to lose control, but he quickly controlled the bike and was ready to start the next race. This time they raced in the other direction, heading towards the main road. The boys were racing along when a small car turned off the main road and drove up towards them. This was what they liked best; they loved to play chicken against cars. The bikes seemed to go faster, the car travelled at a steady pace. Suddenly the driver of the car could see the cyclists coming towards him, he visibly tensed behind the wheel, he had seen this several times before. The boys put their heads down and peddled faster. The gap reduced, the bikes seemed to go faster, the car still travelled steadily on. One of the boys chickened out and skidded his bike to a halt. He watched as the others got closer, the other boy also skidded to the side. Garry peddled on, then he could be seen trying to work the brakes, his eyes filled with horror as nothing happened, he lifted himself up as he tried to slow the bike. The car was now very close; Garry was starting to panic.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Brian looked on with a slight smile on his face, which slowly disappeared as the car came closer. He jumped off the swing and shouted a warning. He was up and running as he saw Garry try to swerve, but the back of the bike caught the car and he was thrown through the air. Brian arrived too late. Garry lay crumpled and broken on the side of the road, the driver of the car got out and rushed towards them. Other people who had seen what had happened ran forward. Brian was oblivious to the crowd as he held Garry’s head in his hands. Garry’s eyes were open, but he looked as if he was just staring into space. Brian was convinced Garry smiled at him just before his eyes closed. Garry spent several days in hospital, he never regained consciousness. Brian and his Mum were there as the doctor switched off the life support machine. Brian didn’t know what emotions he was feeling, he felt great loss at Garry’s death, but another part off him was glad that he had finally stood up to his brother. His mother didn’t stop crying for the next three weeks, she never acknowledged Brian’s presence, she went downhill quickly, the house was a mess, and she got ill herself. The funeral was not a happy event. Brian felt uncomfortable in the new suit one of his aunts had bought him. He didn’t like the attention, everybody kept patting him on the head, ruffling his hair and saying what a lovely boy he was. The one thing he couldn’t

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gã|áàxw _Éäx stand was when people said how much he looked like Garry. Brian’s Mum cried throughout the funeral. Her sisters then rallied round and started to tidy the flat up; they cooked meals and even paid attention to Brian. Brian knew this wouldn’t last forever, but he was glad when his Mum seemed to come out of her depression, but all she ever talked about was Garry. Brian could feel himself getting depressed. He missed Garry.

*****

He got up off the bed and walked over to the window and stared out. He couldn't work out his thoughts, he wasn’t sure if he felt guilty of not, but he did know that he missed Garry. “Tea’s ready.” His mother shouted from the kitchen. Brian ignored the call; he sat on the windowsill and stared at what was happening below. He could see small children playing on the swings, girls skipping, and the faint sound of laughter drifted up. He then saw some boys riding about on bicycles, chasing each other across the green. Brian watched them intently. A tear ran down his cheek as he pushed the window wider open. “Brian, tea’s ready!”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Brian swung his legs out of the window and sat there for a small while. “Brian, will you get your arse in here now!” He wiped the tear away from his face, and pushed himself away. As he fell he felt free, unburdened of what he now recognised as guilt, he smiled as he realised that Garry was the only person that could forgive him, and it wouldn’t be long before they would be together again.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx

LAST BREATH Time and tide wait for no man, or so the saying goes, but he knew that time was one of the things that he didn’t have. He sat in the hospital bed watching things go by. The nurses running back and forth, patients coughing and spluttering, the odd moan, and the poor unfortunate sod who every so often screamed in agony as he tried to piss. He knew he was dying, cancer. He’d been diagnosed three weeks ago. At first he thought he’d be able to cope, but then he had a sort of relapse. He’d collapsed in a supermarket, coughing his guts up. He’d thought that was it. When he saw the blood in his hand, it then hit him; he didn’t have long left. The doctor had stared over him as he lay in his bed, he was watching his mouth move, but he wasn’t really taking it in. The only thing he heard was two months to live, then his mind started to wander. He could see his wife, his two kids, smiling happily and playing together. “Mr Morgan? Mr Morgan?” He came back to reality and stared at the doctor. “You do understand what I’m saying?” He nodded his head meekly. The doctor accepted this and walked off and started talking to another patient.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx How could he understand? How is anybody supposed to understand that they only have a few months to live? It’s not something you’re supposed know. It’s just supposed to happen, one minute you’re there, next you’re not. He lay in his bed, his mind a blank. He’d tried before to think of what cancer looked like, but he just couldn't picture it. The only thing that came into his mind was a large black blob, he’d seen the film ‘The Fantastic Voyage’, but somehow he couldn’t see Donald Pleasance and Rachel Welch swimming about inside his body, he’d laughed when he first thought that, but now he seemed to have lost his sense of humour. All he could do now was remember, he didn’t have a future to look forward to, so he looked backwards. Memories were all he had now.

*****

For some reason he remembered the first time he’d got drunk. He and his mate Jimmy had gone into this pub, the dog and duck or something like that. He was only fourteen, Jimmy was sixteen, but he looked nearly twenty. “So you reckon they’ll serve us in here?” “Yeah. No problem Danny, I’ve been in here tonnes of times.” “Yeah right Jimmy, I’ll believe you.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Honest I have.” “Just get us the drinks Jimmy.” So Jimmy got the drinks, while he sneaked into the corner and sat at a small table. As the night wore on Jimmy managed to keep getting drinks and the two of them got steadily more and more drunk. At first he could feel his balance going, he found it difficult to judge the distance between his hand and his beer glass. The taste wasn’t up to much, but he could live with that, besides, as the night went on he found he could taste less and less. They leered at a group of girls that came into the pub. “Hey, look at that Danny. I think that one fancies me.” “Yeah right.” “No look. She’s looking right at us.” “That’s because she’s got a squint.” Some other girls came in. “Phoooarr! Look at her.” He turned and looked round. Right enough, she was absolutely beautiful, she looked as if she’d just stepped off the cover of a magazine. Danny stood up, or at least he tried to, it was more of a sort of lurch. Jimmy sniggered as he watched his friend stagger over to the girls. He reached the girls and leaned against the bar.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Hiya girls.” The girls ignored him. “Hey girls.” He tapped one of them on the shoulder; at least he tried to, it was more of a slap on the back. “Hey watch it!” “Sorry, sorry.” “Shouldn’t you be in school or something.” He sniggered a little too loudly, a stupid grin across his face, “That’s funny. No really, that was really funny.” “Push off creep!” Another girl sneered. A large guy came up behind him; Danny hadn’t seen him yet. “Or what?” “Or my boyfriend’ll give you a doin’.” “Bring him on then. I can take him. Where is he?” The girl pointed over his shoulder. He turned and looked straight into the big guy’s chest. He looked slowly up into the guy’s face, then down at his feet. He felt his legs go weak, his head started to swim and he threw up on the big guy’s shoes. Before he knew it he was lying in the gutter outside the pub. He picked himself up and sat on the kerb. Jimmy came out of the pub and sat down next to him. “Man, what’d you do that for?” “Do what?” Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “You puked all over that big bloke.” “I never.” “You did.” “I bloody didn’t.” “You did.” “Prove it.” “See that vomit stain down your jacket.” Danny looked down at the stain; “Well you got that after the big bloke used you to mop up his shoes.” “Where the hell were you anyway.” “Where do you think I was. I was hiding in the corner, that bloke was bloody massive.”

*****

He laughed to himself, but laughing brought on a coughing fit. He sat there on the bed wheezing and coughing, trying to control his breathing. A nurse came over and looked at him from the end of the bed. “Are you alright Mr Morgan?” He nodded as he slowly got his breathing under control. God almighty! He couldn’t even laugh now. His wife had always told him he had a lovely laugh. That would be one of many Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx things that he wouldn’t be able to do now. He wouldn’t be able to go to Australia, he wouldn’t be able to go in a hot air balloon, he wouldn’t be able to have a go at stand up, he wouldn’t be able to do any of that. He looked across at the other beds. They all looked so sick; every one of them looked as if they were going to pop their clogs any minute. It never entered his head that he looked just like them. He watched them and wondered if they were having the same thoughts? If they were facing the same dilemma that he was facing? He had only had one visitor since he had been in hospital. Gillian, his girlfriend. She had visited him on a few occasions, but he could tell from the look in her face that she didn’t like coming. He wondered if his wife, or should he now say his ex-wife, he had never got used to calling Mary his ex, but he wondered if she would ever visit him. He hoped she would, there were so many things he wanted to talk to her and the kids about, but she had never really talked to her since she had found out about Gillian. He could remember that day as if it were yesterday.

*****

He had always considered himself to be happily married. He had always professed to people that he could never understand people who had affairs, but that all changed when he met Gillian.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx She worked in Turner's, a bar that Danny had often walked past, but for some reason he went in it this time. It was quite quiet inside, a few couples sat at tables, some in booths by the window and some serious drinkers were propped up against the bar. He looked round the bar, slowly taking in his surroundings. There was a young man behind the bar, dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt with the bar’s name emblazoned across it. A young girl rushed passed him, knocking his elbow, as he stood in the doorway. He nearly said something to her, but he took one look at her and was completely mesmerised. She ran towards the bar, breathing heavily and talking quickly, “Sorry I’m late Gregg, my car wouldn’t start again.” “S’alright Gillian, the boss isn’t in today, so it doesn’t matter.” “Oh you’re an angel.” She rushed across the bar and through a door. Danny walked forwards and took a seat at the bar. Gregg came towards him. “What can I get you?” “Eh, a whiskey. I’ll have a whiskey.” “Okay.” Gregg picked a small glass from overhead, turned and pushed it against one of the optics. He turned back round and placed the glass in front of Danny. “There you go.” “Thanks.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Just then Gillian came through into the bar and stood next to Gregg. Danny watched her from behind his glass as they talked to each other. He had never really seen anyone like her. He’d certainly never felt like this since he’d met his wife. He delved into the inside pocket of his jacket for his cigarettes; he pulled out the packet, stripped off the wrapper and opened the packet. He took one of the cigarettes out of the packet and put it into his mouth, he put the packet back in his pocket and started to pat himself, looking for his matches. “Damn.” He muttered to himself. He noticed that she was looking at him, “S’cuse me, you don’t have a light do you?” “Yeah sure.” She gushed and reached under the bar and produced a small book of matches, “There you go.” “Thanks.” He took the book and stripped one out, lit it, put it to the cigarette and took a long deep drag. “I haven’t seen you in here before.” He couldn’t believe it; she was starting a conversation with him. “Eh . . . No, it’s . . . Eh . . . The first time I think I’ve been in here.” God he was thirty-six years old and here he was sounding like a bloody school kid. “Well it’s nice to see a good looking guy in here for once.” He nearly choked on his cigarette; he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “I mean most of the guys that come in here are either grumpy old blokes or young kids just out of short trousers.” “What, you mean like those guys over there?” He pointed over at a group of old blokes sitting round a table, holding onto their beer glasses for dear life. “Exactly.” “Well if I ever get like that, shoot me will you.” “You reckon we’ll know each other that long?” He swallowed deeply, he didn’t know how he was going to answer this one, but before he knew what was happening he opened his mouth, “If you’d let me.” She smiled and winked at him, then walked over and served one of the old blokes, who had managed to separate himself from his glass and order another one. What was he going to do? Was she really giving him the come on, or was she just pulling his leg? He couldn’t work it out. He could see his wife calling, so got up to leave. “Hold on!” She came over to him. Oh oh, here it came. “You haven’t paid for your drink.” “Sorry.” He delved into his pocket and pulled out a fiver and handed it over. “I’ll just get your change.” She walked over to the till and scribbled something on a piece of paper. She came back over and handed him his change and the receipt. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “There you go. I hope we’ll see each other soon.” “You never know.” He smiled nervously and walked out. Outside he walked down the street and examined the crumpled receipt in his hand. Scribbled on the top of it was a phone number. My God! She’d meant it.

*****

A couple of weeks went by and he did nothing about it, but he soon found himself at a loose end and took the crumpled receipt out of his pocket and phoned the number. “Hi, it’s Danny.” “Who?” Oh great she’d forgotten all about him already. “Oh aye right, the good looking bloke from the pub.” He felt his heart jump as she remembered. “Eh, yeah that’s me.” He was getting all nervous again, “Eh . . . Is there any chance we could meet again.” There was a pause on the other end of the line; he could feel his heart drop again. “Yeah, sure. How about Tuesday?” “Sound great.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Meet me outside Turner’s, I finish at about eight o’clock.” She hung up. Danny could feel his heart flying again.

*****

Danny waited outside Turner’s, he paced up and down, checking his watch every few seconds. He was too nervous to go inside, in case everything turned out to be an awful joke. His watch approached and passed eight o’clock. The door of the bar opened, Danny turned quickly, but was quickly disappointed as an old man came shuffling out. He checked his watch again, quarter past eight. Why was he doing this? His wife and family were at home; he should be with them. “Hiya.” He turned round quickly, Gillian was standing in the doorway, and she looked absolutely stunning. Suddenly every thought of his wife left his head. “Hello.” He became the epitome of a gentleman as he took Gillian by the arm and they walked down the street. “May I take this opportunity to say how beautiful you look.” “Why thank you.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx They walked down the street arm in arm, for all the world the perfect couple.

*****

That night would remain with Danny for what was left of the rest of his short life. Over the two years of their relationship they spent many nights together, Danny always told his wife that he was away on business, but none were as special as that first night. Despite everything, he never regretted meeting Gillian. When Mary found out about Gillian that was when things got rough. He never meant to hurt anyone, especially the kids, but there was nothing he could do. Mary threw an absolute wobbler.

*****

That day Danny told Mary that he was away on business. As usual Mary believed him and went about her day as usual. Danny went and met up with Gillian, they spent the whole day together, shopping, dinner at a fancy restaurant and then they went to see a film. They sat in the back row like young lovers, they never took in any of the film, they spent most of it kissing and cuddling. They came out of the cinema; Danny waited in the foyer as Gillian went to the bathroom. As he waited he suddenly saw Kerry; a

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gã|áàxw _Éäx friend of Mary’s coming towards him. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Gillian, also coming towards him. He was trapped; he didn’t know which way to turn. He moved towards Gillian, hoping that Kerry hadn’t seen him. He took Gillian by the arm and led her away. Gillian leaned over to him and kissed him on the cheek. They got closer to the doors. They were going to make it. “Dan! Dan!” Danny stopped dead in his tracks. Gillian looked curiously at him. He turned slowly. Kerry was bearing down on them. “I thought it was you.” “Hello Kerry.” Oh God, he was dead now. Kerry would go running straight to Mary and tell her all about Gillian. “And who’s this with you?” “Gillian.” She said before Danny could say anything. Oh God, he could see it now. He was dead. “And how do you know our Dan?” “He’s my boyfr . . .” “From work. We work together.” He quickly interrupted. Gillian seemed to catch on to what Danny was doing, “Yeah. We work together.” “That’s nice, some sort of business meeting is it?” Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Eh, yeah that’s it.” He took Gillian by the arm and started to lead her away, “I’ll see you later Kerry, we really must be going.” They turned round and quickly walked away. Back in the car Danny held his head in his hands, “Shit! Shit! Shit!” “What’s up?” “That bloody loud mouth bitch is my wife’s best friend.” “Yeah, so?” “So! So! She’ll bloody run all the way back to Mary and tell her exactly what I’ve been up to.” “But she doesn’t know what you’ve been up to.” “That doesn’t matter, she’ll just make it all up anyway.” “Look it doesn’t matter . . .” “Doesn’t matter! She’ll bloody kill me!” “Calm down man. Look we’ll go for a drink and talk this over.” They hit the nearest pub. Danny got completely pissed and forgot about everything. Gillian was just glad that he’d stopped talking about his wife. Again they spent the night together.

*****

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Danny crept home the next morning, nursing a severe hangover. He opened the front door. Sitting in the hall was three hastily packed suitcases. He closed the door behind him with a slight thud, and crept towards the kitchen. “And where do you think you’re going?” Danny stopped dead in his tracks. He turned slowly. Mary was standing on the stairs, her arms folded across her chest. Her mascara was all smudged, she had been crying heavily. “What’s up love?” “What’s up!” She screamed, “I’ll tell you what's bloody well up, you bastard!” “Steady on Mary. Let’s talk about this.” “Talk. I’ll bet you did more than talk with her.” “What you on about?” “Don’t try and act all fucking innocent with me Danny. You’ve been with your little tart again!” “Look. I don’t know what you’re on about.” “I saw Kerry yesterday.” “Oh.” “Is that all you’ve got to say? Oh? Is that all our marriage is worth to you? After all we’ve been through. After all I’ve done for you.” “Look Mary, I can explain.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “I don’t want any fucking explanation! I want you out!” “If you’ll just sit down, we can talk about this sensibly.” “Sensibly. You want to be fucking sensible! I’ll bet you weren’t being sensible when you were fucking her!” “Sssh, you’ll wake the girls.” “Oh right. Now you’re all of a sudden interested in the children.” “Look Mary, I don’t think we should bring the kids into this.” “I don’t see why not. I think they should see what a lying, cheating bastard their father really is.” Mary turned and marched up the stairs, towards the kid’s bedroom. Danny bounded up the stairs and put his hand onto Mary’s shoulder. She spun round quickly, tears streaming from her eyes. “Get your hands off me you filthy bastard!” Danny was taken aback, he could see the absolute hatred in her eyes. He knew then that it was all over, there was no possibility of reconciliation. He turned and walked back down the stairs. He picked up two of the suitcases and walked out the front door. He put the cases into the back of the car and came back into the house to collect the last case. Mary was sitting on the stairs, with her head in her hands, crying softly.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Danny picked up the case and started to walk out. He stopped about to say something, but then thought better of it and continued walking out. Mary stayed on the stairs; she listened to the noise of the car starting up and then driving away. She stood up, brushed herself down and walked up the stairs. She walked up to the door of the kid’s bedroom and opened it. She stood for a while, watching her two daughters sleeping. She slowly and quietly walked up to them and kissed them softly on the forehead. They both stirred slightly. She wiped the tears from her eyes and walked out of the room. She stopped in the doorway and took a last look back inside, then turned and closed the door quietly behind her.

*****

The ward was dark now. He could hear snoring from the bed next to him. He lifted his head up and could see the night nurse sitting at her desk, reading another romantic novel, the desk light casting an eerie yellow light over her face. He leaned his head back on the pillow and stared up at the tiles on the roof. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d resorted to counting the black dots on the tiles. He started to slowly count, eventually his eyes closed. He wondered what joys and delights tomorrow would bring.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx

“Mr Morgan? Mr Morgan?” He opened his eyes wearily. A young beautiful nurse was standing over his bed. He peered at her name badge, he couldn’t make out her surname, it began with a B or something, but her first name was Lesley. He smiled, at least he thought he was smiling, he wasn’t sure. “There’s someone here to see you.” “Thank you Lesley.” He croaked. His throat was dry and sore. “Do you want some water?” He nodded his head. The nurse reached over to the water jug on his bedside cabinet and poured some water into a glass. She lifted his head up and brought the glass up to his lips. “There you go.” He drank greedily, the water loosening his throat. The nurse lowered his head back, “Is that better?” “Yes, much.” “I’ll just get your visitors.” The nurse walked away. He watched her walk away. If I was a few years younger he thought to himself. Visitors, she’d said. Plural. That means there’s more than one. He wondered who it could be. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Hello Danny.” He looked up. Standing at the foot of the bed were his daughters, behind them was Mary. The girls looked lost, they didn’t know where to put their eyes. Danny sat up. He looked at them and smiled, they hadn’t changed a bit. He reached out his arms, “Are you gonna give your Dad a kiss?” They came nervously forward and hugged him. They broke away from him and stepped back to their mother's side. “Run along and play now.” She said to them. They didn’t need telling twice, anxious to get away from this awkward situation. Mary pulled a chair forward and sat down. “You’re looking good Mary.” “I wish I could say the same for you. You look as if you’ve aged twenty years.” “If only I had twenty years.” “What do the doctors say?” “They reckon I’ve only got a few weeks left.” “Jesus that’s tough.” “Tell me about it.” There was a nervous silence between them for a while. “Look Danny, I . . . Err, I, um . . .” Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Come on spit it out.” “I don’t want there to be any bad blood between us. What I’m trying to say is I don’t want us to be enemies. I was wondering if we could be . . .” Danny started to laugh, his hollow wheezing laugh. It developed into a coughing fit. He was laughing, coughing, laughing, and coughing. His face was getting redder and redder. He struggled for air; he tried to calm himself, but couldn’t. Mary started to panic; Danny looked in such pain. “Nurse! Nurse!” She screamed. The nurse came running over. Mary moved out of the way. The nurse pulled an oxygen mask over Danny’s face. “Calm down Mr Morgan, just breath normally.” Everything was moving so slowly, he just couldn’t stop himself laughing. She was just about to ask if they could just be friends. God, how many times had he heard that dreaded phrase before? Friends. Ha! He didn’t want to be friends; she was his bloody wife for God’s sake. He was getting tense. Then he started to realise. Maybe this was the moment; maybe this was the point that his entire life had been working up to. He could see the nurses and doctors rushing about. Mary standing at the back, hiding her face in her hands, but everything

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gã|áàxw _Éäx seemed to be happening so slowly. He could tell that his time was up. Even their voices were slow. A doctor poked his face into Danny’s. He tried to pull back, but couldn’t. The doctor shook his head. He could see the doctor talking to Mary, she started crying. A voice in his head was telling him to go to sleep, to close his eyes and get some rest. A quieter voice was telling him to keep fighting. Mary came close to the bed; he could feel her hand in his. She was crying uncontrollably. He turned his head to try and look at her, but he couldn’t make out her face. He tried to say goodbye, but all he could manage was a soft sigh. He felt tired now, very tired. He needed to sleep. He closed his eyes and let everything go dark.

THOUGHTS . . . AND STUFF

I can’t stand the way I look. I look down at the track marks on my arms, how did I get this way? I used to have a life, but now my life is in a little plastic needle. I live for that moment when it kicks in, when my body starts to fly, when I can no longer feel pain, when I can no longer feel the world, everything is forgotten, but everything is somehow more real.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx It’s times like now that I hate, every bone in my body feels as if it’s being crushed, turning to jelly, the pain is unbearable, I can hardly stop myself from shaking. My blood is roaring through my ears and I mean roaring, it sounds like a train is driving through my brain. The world suits my mood, dull and grey. Nobody looks at anybody anymore, or is it just me. I avoid looking at myself in shop windows; the sight would probably make me physically sick. Head down, hands stuffed in pockets, I shuffle along. I’ve no idea where I am, or where I’m going. I only know what I must have; I must have another hit. I want to forget, I want oblivion, and I don’t want to be me. Is it because I hate myself so much that I’ve ended up like this, or am I just a natural victim? I think too much. It’s started to rain. I know this because I can see the puddles in front of me ripple. I stop and watch them ripple. I can feel people brush past me, but they don’t matter, they’re sheep. The ripples are so beautiful. Am I one of the crowd? Things are passing me by, but do I notice? I wake up sometimes and I can’t remember my name. The puddles are so beautiful. Is this a life I have? I’m not going anywhere, I don’t do anything, but does it really matter? I think it used to. My God!

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gã|áàxw _Éäx I’ve just seen myself in a window. Do I really look like that? My hair is thick and matted, grey stubble covers my face, my clothes are dirty and stained. It used to matter, but now I need only one thing. I take a last look at the puddle and shuffle on. A woman looks at me, I can feel she’s repulsed, her face sort of contorts as if she's holding her nose. She moves to the side, deliberately avoiding me. I carry on shuffling. It used to bother me, I can remember the first time it happened, it was unnerving, it was actually frightening. A young girl was walking towards me, she was good looking, to tell you the truth I quite fancied her, anyway she looked at me, I thought I was smiling, I’d no idea what I looked like, I was stoned out of my skull. She had this terrified look in her eyes; she actually looked scared for her life. She backed against the wall, hoping that I’d just walk past, but no, I thought I’d try and calm her down. I moved towards her and she screamed, I couldn’t believe it, she actually screamed. I ran. I didn’t know what else to do, I just ran. For a while that scared me, I was clean for a week, but it didn’t take long before the needle was calling me again. I’ve been stoned almost all the time since then. Life’s too scary when you’re straight. My headache’s getting worse, it feels as if I’m going to explode. Someone I once knew used to call it medicine; I’ve a much simpler word for it, poison. What else do you call something that systematically destroys your life, mind you, I don’t care about my life, I just need another hit.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx I think too much, that’s my problem. This street’s getting longer, it used to take just five minutes to walk from one end of the high street to the other, but now it feels like half an hour. I just keep walking, eventually the shop facades . . . Ha! That’s a good word for them isn’t it, facade, they're nothing but a facade, pretending to sell you things that you want, never mind if you need them or not, that doesn’t matter, they’re just money grabbing bastards who are after one thing, your money. Convenience stores, that’s a laugh, the only thing that’s convenient about them is the fact that you conveniently open your wallet, or purse, or whatever every time you walk into one and part with your hard earned cash and put it into their sweaty little hands. Anyway as I was saying, the shops disappeared and I find myself walking up to a high rise. There’s a bloke on the seventeenth floor who can end my pain. Amazing the lift’s actually working, I watch the light countdown, the doors groan open, the smell of piss is overwhelming, I nearly puke. I think I’ll take the stairs. Maybe the piss filled lift wouldn't have been too bad, six floors later and I’m dead. I can’t move any further. My bones are breaking; I collapse to the floor. I can hear voices, sounds like kids. I close my eyes for a second. Pain! Pain!

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gã|áàxw _Éäx I open my eyes. There’s a bunch of kids kicking the shit out of me. Little fucking runts. If I could be bothered I’d fight back; instead I just roll into a ball and wait for them to get bored. After a couple of minutes they walk off, probably to mug an old lady or something. I don’t feel any more pain than usual, only another eleven floors to go and all my pain’ll be forgotten. The seventeenth floor, thank God, I thought I’d never make it. Sweat is pouring off me, and I’m shivering like mad. My legs are going to give way at any moment. I stagger along the landing; my eyes fixed solidly on the magic door at the end of the landing. It feels like an age but eventually I reach the door. I thump the door with my fist, which I instantly regret as a burning pain shoots up my arm. I look at my hand, which is blue and puffy, one of the kids must have stood on my hand, but I forget about it when the door opens slightly. A girls pale white face stares at me through the gap, she recognises me and nods her head. She opens the door and lets me in. Not a word is said between us as she guides me down a dingy corridor, the smell of damp fills my nostrils. She opens a creaky door and shows me into another room. The room is lit by a mass of candles; I’ve never seen so many candles. The light flickers, casting eerie shadows on the walls. The girl who let me in slumps down next to a couple of other girls, all three of them look identical, dressed in long black dresses, with pale faces and long dark hair, they look like the three wicked witches or

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gã|áàxw _Éäx something. Their eyes stare blankly round the room, but light up suddenly. I hear footsteps behind me. I turn and can feel a stupid grin come across my face as my saviour enters the room. He nods his head, knowing my needs. He motions for me to sit. I gingerly lower myself to the floor in front of the girls. The Saviour moves over to a small cupboard and comes back with a small doctor’s bag. He brings the bag over and puts it down in front of us. He sits down in front of us and opens up the bag. He ceremoniously takes out the contents of the bag and places them on the floor, a tobacco tin, a spoon, a lighter, a bundle of syringes and a length of rubber tubing. I can feel my heartbeat speed up, my mouth is getting dry and I start to sweat even more. The saviour opens the tobacco tin and reveals some tin foil. He unfolds the tin foil and we all stare at the white powder as if it were a million pounds, or the crown jewels. He puts some of the powder onto the spoon and starts cooking. I can feel a deep longing in my heart, which I don’t know if it’s love or envy as The Saviour lets one of the girls go first. She ties the rubber tubing tight round her arm, tapping her arm to bring up the veins. She gently pushes the syringe into her arm, she pulls the plunger up slightly letting a little bit of blood swirl into the syringe, then she lovingly pushes the syringe home. A look of pure ecstasy comes across her face. One of the other girls goes next.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx I feel like ripping the syringe out of her arm so that I can have some, but I manage to control myself as The Saviour tells me it’s my turn next. I look over at the girl who’s just finished; she’s slumped back against the wall, total relaxation throughout her body, apart from the occasional facial twitch. I look back at The Saviour, “Ready?” He whispers. I just smile as I start to wrap the tubing round my arm. It’s amazing, but already the shivering’s stopped. My hands work like those of a professional, they know exactly what they’re doing, they’ve done it many times before. I eventually find a vein big enough, it takes three attempts but finally I push the needle home. I push the plunger down. I feel the swell in my arm and I pull the needle free. Within seconds my pain is forgotten, all thoughts exit my head as I lie back and close my eyes. It’s as if I can feel the poison pumping through my veins, racing along my arm, into my chest and into my heart, which starts racing, pumping the poison even faster and further. Then it hits my brain. It’s as if there’s an explosion of colour, thoughts and ideas. I feel completely relaxed. I just collapse onto the floor and let sleep overtake me.

*****

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gã|áàxw _Éäx I open my eyes, God I feel like shit. I don’t know where I am. I frantically look around, but I don’t recognise anything, it’s certainly not The Saviour’s flat that’s for sure. I’m lying amongst the bins in an alley; it feels like I’m sitting in shit. I gingerly bring my hand up my nose and sniff. Oh God I am sitting in shit! I quickly stand up and brush myself down; not realising that I’m smearing shit all over my clothes. Not that it would make much difference; I look and smell like shit anyway. I continue shuffling along, always shuffling. The pain is back again, this time worse than ever, it’s always bad after a high, but I’ve never felt this bad. My head is swimming; my gut feels as if it’s tying itself in knots, my eyes can’t focus properly, God I feel bad. This isn’t right, something’s wrong. I lurch sideways and throw up against the wall. My stomach feels as if it’s been hit by a horse. I stagger forward, out of the alley and into the street; people look at me as if I’m a leper. I retch again, but nothing comes. My vision is getting more blurred, I can’t feel my legs. I look up at the high rise and I can see The Saviour and his girls, they seem to be waving, I raise my hand and wave back, they’re smiling, I'm sure they are, I step back and wave again. I don’t know it, but I’m staggering out into the traffic. Car horns blare, but I can’t hear them, I don’t know where I am. A car screeches, there’s a thump, I can’t feel anything. I'm flying through the air, I land in a heap, but I feel no pain. I hear voices; I don’t know whose.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Things go dark, it’s peaceful now, and I actually feel good. I relax; I’m going to enjoy this.

*****

There’s a beeping noise, then voices, something is being moved around, and the voices sound frantic. The beeping becomes a low whine; the motion and voices seem to slow. I hear a voice; “We’ve lost him.” Am I dead? I force open one eye. Everything is white, it’s dazzling. I feel brave and open both eyes. I have to squint, but eventually my eyes become accustomed to the light. I seem to be in a bed, my head hurts. Ha! You can still get headaches in heaven. I can hear footsteps coming towards me. I try to sit up, but the pain in my stomach is unbelievable, I have to lie back. Somebody is at the bottom of the bed, I can’t see them, but I know they are there. “He’s awake doctor.” Doctor? God is a doctor?

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gã|áàxw _Éäx A face appears beside me. A gaunt face with deep set eyes that look as if he hasn’t slept in weeks. I can see people rushing about behind him; I can’t see what’s happening. “You’re a lucky man.” He sneers. I don’t understand. I must look confused; “You’re in hospital.” The face explains. “I’m not dead?” I croak. “Not this time, but you soon will be if you keep taking that poison. Do you know what it does to your body? I seen dozens of . . .” He carries on giving me a lecture on drug abuse, but I’m not listening. All I can think about is The Saviour and his friends. “He’ll probably be dead within a year.” I can hear the doctor say to the nurse as they walk away. I feel like screaming at the top of my voice, doesn’t he know that I’m already dead. The commotion at the bed beside me seems to have died down. A woman and two girls walk quietly away. They’ve pulled a curtain round so that from the outside all looks calm and peaceful. Nobody seems to be watching so I climb out of bed and open the little cupboard at the side of the bed; inside I find my clothes all neatly folded. I pull them out and take off my pyjamas and start to get dressed. Despite the pain now coursing through my body I manage to pull on my jeans. “And where do you think you’re going?”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx I turn round and standing there is a young nurse coming from behind the drawn curtain. My brain reacts, but unfortunately my body is unable to do anything. One of the drawbacks of continued of abuse is that you feel as if your dick has shrivelled up and died. “I asked you a question?” “Home.” I put on my trainers and start to tie the laces; the nurse moves round the bed to face me. “What’re you playing at?” “I’m going home if you don’t mind.” “In your state, you gotta be kidding.” “It’s a free country, I can do what I want.” I try to move past her, but she blocks my way. “If you leave now you’ll be dead before the end of the month.” “So.” “Don’t you care?” “Why should I, nobody else does.” “Aaw, my heart bleeds.” I manage to push past her. “Fucking dickhead.” She mumbles as I pass. “Pardon?” “I said you’re a fucking dickhead.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Wait a minute, you’re a nurse you’re not supposed to say that sort of thing.” “Great, you’re killing yourself, but you still take the time to feel insulted by a few words.” “Look, I don’t have to stand here and take this sort of thing.” “No you don’t, you have the chance to have a life, but instead you pump yourself full of shit just waiting to die. You don’t know what you’ve got, there’s people who’ve worked all their lives, they’ve had good lives, but nature has seen fit to strike them down with diseases such as cancer, strokes and the like, they didn’t have a choice, but you, you’re deliberately killing yourself. It’s a waste.” “Fuck you!” I’m not in the mood to listen; I’ve heard it so many times I just don’t care anymore. I storm out. “You’ll be back.” I can hear her shout as I walk away. I trudge through the hospital, I have no idea what’s going on, but something about what the nurse said is nagging at me, but I don’t want to hear it, something inside of me is telling me to forget everything, just go to The Saviour and forget, but there is also a small part of me, a very small part, that is telling me that what she said was the truth. I try to put her out of my head. I wander through the streets. I come across an old wino, slumped in a shop doorway, his hands clutching a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag. I don’t know what I’m thinking, but I sit down next to him. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx He looks at me and mumbles something then he hands me his bottle and slurs, “Bit o’ poison mate.” I look into his eyes, his bloodshot eyes, I can tell he can’t focus on me, he doesn’t have a clue where he is. It’s then that I realise that he could be me. Give it a year and I could be just like him. Fucked. I get up and I run. I don’t care where; I just have to escape. I have to get away from myself. Eventually I end up back at the hospital. I stand across the road from the front doors and wait. A couple of hours later the nurse comes out with a couple of her mates, they are laughing and smiling, they look happy. I stagger and stumble across the road and approach them. Her mates have a look of sheer horror and revulsion as I come at them, but she looks sad and concerned. I stare for a second into her eyes; I could drown in those eyes. “Help.” Is all that comes out of my mouth.

*****

The music is running around inside my head, the words are bouncing around my skull. I’m sitting in her flat, don’t ask me how, I don’t know. A small hi-fi is playing; the hypnotic beat is numbing my mind. This place is all right, it feels kinda homey, she’s in the other room making a cup of tea or something. I can feel the shakes

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gã|áàxw _Éäx starting to come back and sweat is soaking my back. I glance over to the wall, big mistake, there’s a large mirror hanging there and I see my reflection. I look like shit. A scruffy beard hangs from my jaw; large dark shadows surround my bloodshot eyes. I look like a rapist or a serial killer, correction I look like a junkie. I can hear her coming back into the room; I make a very vain attempt to tidy myself up. “What are you doing?” I stop running my fingers through my matted hair. She’s carrying a couple of mugs; she puts them down on a small table. She looks as if she’s thinking what to say, so I open my big gob. “What were you doing behind that curtain?” “What curtain?” “The one in the hospital, next to my bed. The first time we met, you came from behind it.” “Why’d you wanna know?” “Just curious.” I shrug, "Was the guy behind it dead?” “Yeah, he was dead.” “What’d he die of?” “Cancer, why?” She said it in such an off hand way it took me by surprise, but she probably deals with death nearly every day, I suppose it’s become nearly second nature to her. The only folk I know that have died are fellow junkies, and to be honest, at the time it

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gã|áàxw _Éäx didn’t really mean anything to me, all that went through my head was the fact that there could be more stuff for me. “Cancer eh.” “Yeah cancer, anyway I thought you wanted my help?” Facing up to the fact that I had a problem was hard enough, but now having to admit that I needed help was proving even more difficult. “Look, either you want to get clean or not, it’s not a decision I can make for you, you’ve got to want to do it.” “I dunno, I mean, what’s life gonna be like straight, it’s been so long since I tried it, I don’t even know if I’d like it.” “Do you like the way you are now? Covered in shit, looking like you haven’t had a bath in months. Is that really the way you want to spend your life?” “I dunno.” I get up and start pacing about nervously. Part of me wants to quit, wants to quit bad, but there’s this other part of me that’s scared shitless. I can’t remember the last time I was straight, I don’t know if I can do it. I suppose I'm just after the easy life, it’s far easier for me to stay on the stuff, to be blitzed out of my mind nearly every night, to forget everything, to escape from the real world, to run away. Real life is just too frightening; it’s just too real. “What’re you going to do?” “I dunno, I need time to think.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Tell you what, how ‘bout you doss here for the night, have a think about things and see if you can get your head sorted?” “Yeah?” “Sure.” “You’re not gonna grass me up for stalking you or nuthin’?” “Trust me, I’m a nurse.” She laughs. She gets up and walks out of the room, I take the opportunity to have a little look round, it looks like a nice place, funny thing is though there doesn’t seem to be any pictures of any family or boyfriends. She comes back in carrying a blanket and a pillow; she throws them down onto the sofa. “You can kip here tonight.” “Thanks.” She starts to leave, “One question.” “What?” “What’s your name?” “Lesley.” She smiles.

*****

I try to sleep, but my mind is racing. I toss and turn from side to side, useless thoughts like why do toenails smell of cheese? What are cor blimey trousers? Absolutely useless, but for some reason

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gã|áàxw _Éäx they come running into my head. Probably some way of my brain trying to avoid the real question, should I go straight? My body is sweating heavily; I can feel my legs shaking. I’m starting to come down, I don’t think I can do this. I throw the blankets onto the floor and start pacing about the room. I have to wrap my arms around my chest in an attempt to stop the shivering. I must keep my mind active; I have to do something. I start rummaging through the shelves on the wall, trying to find something of interest. I don’t really know what I’m doing. A large book with a bright red cover catches my attention, I reach up and heave it off the shelves, and a couple of things fall from the shelf and thud onto the floor. Clutching the book to my chest I stagger back to the sofa, I slump down and sweep the small table in the middle of the floor clear of clutter and place the book on the table. Slowly I look through the book, staring intently at the pictures, which appeared as a vivid nightmare of colours, which my brain isn’t really taking in, but I stare at them all the same. I must have made some noise getting the book, because Leslie appears in the doorway in her dressing gown, looking half asleep. “What’re you playing at?” “Have you seen these pictures? They’re absolutely wild. The colours they’re just . . . .”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx She must have walked over because she’s suddenly beside me. She looks at me; I can tell what she’s thinking. I’ve only known her for a matter of hours, but already I recognise that look. A look of sheer pity. I try to smile, but pain is now shooting through my body, it feels as if my bones are being crushed. I need a hit and I need it now. I look at her pleadingly. She seems to know what I’m thinking and shakes her head. “But I . . .” “But nothing, I’m gonna make sure that you’re straight by the time you leave this flat.” It seems that while I was trying to sleep she’s been doing a lot of thinking and I don’t think that she’ll change her mind no matter what I say. She puts me back to bed on the sofa as if I’m a little kid; I make a pretence of being asleep and wait for her to leave the room. I hear the door to her bedroom close and I get up. I tiptoe over to the door and listen, making sure that she can’t hear me as I creep down the corridor and into the bathroom. I look feverishly around until I find the medicine cabinet. I prise it open hurriedly, my hands shaking I rummage inside, the only thing I can find are a couple of boxes of tampax and a bottle of cough mixture.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Out of desperation I grab the cough mixture and quickly try to unscrew the cap. Damn these childproof locks; I can never get them open. Eventually I get the bottle open and take a swig. The stuff tastes disgusting, but seems to warm me inside, before I know it I’ve finished the whole bottle. God I feel sick. I lurch over to the toilet and vomit. It feels like someone has kicked me in the stomach. I puke a few more times until there’s nothing left and tears just roll down my face each time I retch. Lesley must have heard me; I can feel her standing behind me. I’m too ashamed to turn around. She moves closer, “Oh my God!” She sees the mess I’ve made of her toilet. I can’t look her in the face; I can still feel bits of puke clinging to my mouth. “I’m . . .” “S’alright, I’ll clean it up, you just go and lie down.” I shuffle out of the room feeling like a five-year-old who’s just messed themselves. I can’t go one like this; it’s no way to live. Lesley’s a good person I can’t do this to her, I can’t bring her down with me.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx I sit back down on the sofa; I can hear Leslie in the bathroom. It’s then that I decide that I’ve got to get out, I can’t go through with it. Lesley comes through a few minutes later, “Are you alright?” I just nod my head. “You sure?” I nod. She stands in the doorway as if wanting to say more, but just turns the lights out and leaves. I sit in the darkness feeling sorry for myself. I sit like that for a couple of hours, then I grab my stuff and make for the front door. Once outside I start walking, I can’t look back, if I look then I’ll have to go back. I can’t do that. I put my head down and keep walking.

*****

I don’t know where I’m going and I don’t really care, I just have to get away. It’s bad enough destroying my own life, I just couldn’t do that to Lesley she was too nice a person, she deserves better than that, she deserves better than me.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx I keep walking until I find a large enough doorway to settle down in. I fling my stuff down onto the floor, I use my bag as a cushion and take off my jacket and use it as a blanket I stare up at the sky, the stars are shining, but I don’t think any of them are shining on me. Eventually I drop off into a fitful sleep. I wake in absolute agony. My back is killing me, my neck is stiff and I can’t feel my legs. I force myself up and gather up my stuff, I pull on my jacket and start walking. Every inch of my body aches, but I have to keep walking, if I stop I don’t want to know what will happen. People keep staring at me as I walk, but I don’t care, I just don’t care anymore. I find myself walking down the high street again, I try not to look at my reflection in the windows, but one window catches my eye, full of glittering colours all shimmering and dancing before me. It takes me a while to realise that I’ve stopped. It takes me even longer to realise that there’s somebody standing next to me. I turn and look. A small wizened old man in a grey suit smiles back at me. He holds his hand out, I think he’s wanting to shake hands so I hold out my hand as well, but he doesn’t shake hands. I feel something being pressed into my hand. The old man keeps smiling and walks away.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx I look down at what the man’s given me. A tenner. Bad move old man. Now I’ve got money and there’s only one thing I’m going to spend it on. I start walking, but this time I know where I’m heading.

*****

Reid Street. This is the place. It looks like an ordinary street, well it is an ordinary street, full of boarded up houses, graffiti on the walls, gangs running riot and of course Ged, your friendly neighbourhood dealer, like I said an ordinary street. Ged’s stuff wasn’t usually very good, but at least he had a regular supply and that was all that mattered. You can tell Ged’s place a mile away, it’s the only one that isn’t covered in graffiti, nobody would dare touch it. I knock on the reinforced steel door, the letterbox opens and I push my tenner through. It’s quickly snatched away and a small piece of silver foil is pushed into my hand. No words are exchanged, there doesn’t have to be, there’s only one reason why anybody would knock on a guy like Ged’s door. I walk away happy. I find a safe place to go, an old derelict house. Inside I set up my kit. Syringe, teaspoon and lighter. I put the contents of the silver foil onto the teaspoon, making sure not to spill any, and start heating the spoon with the lighter. Once satisfied I hold the teaspoon in my left hand and start to take of my belt with my right, I wrap the belt round the top of my left arm, pulling it tight with my teeth. Holding the Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx belt tight in my teeth I reach for the syringe with my right hand and carefully suck up the fluid from the teaspoon into the syringe. I can see the veins in my arm bulging nicely, I pick a spot between old scars and push the needle in, and I pull the plunger up slightly, letting a little bit of blood into the syringe. It looks so pretty swirling about in there, taking a deep breath I push the plunger down, my arm seems to tighten slightly, I make sure that every last drop goes in then I pull the needle free. The belt loosens as I let it fall from my mouth. My head starts to spin, my stomach tightens, then my whole body fills with pain, blood starts to pour from my nose, and I puke down my front. This shouldn’t be happening, there shouldn’t be this pain, this shouldn’t be happening. Where’s the high? My brain is screaming, it wants out, it wants out of my head now. Where’s the high? Where the fuck’s the high? My eyes feel as if they're going to burst, pain is everywhere. I fall over onto my side; I watch a rat on the other side of the room eating another dead rat. I think I’ve messed myself. Then nothing, I can’t feel anything and everything goes dark. Here it comes, here comes the high.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx You know what my problem is? I think too much.

WHAT’S LOVE GOT TO DO WITH IT?

A light breeze blew through the air causing the leaves to rustle quietly. The night was warm and humid, almost romantic; at least Chris thought it was as he sat up in the tree. Tied round his neck were a pair of binoculars, he lifted them up to his eyes and watched. His breath quickened, but he held himself in check, making sure that only the wind could be heard. He could see her through her window; his position in the tree offered a perfect vantagepoint of virtually the whole estate, but at the moment Chris was only interested in this one house. He’d been watching her for a couple of days, Chris reckoned he was in love, well he was in lust anyway. She lived at number fourteen and had long flowing blonde hair, black eyebrows, which Chris thought was a bit strange, brown eyes and a small birthmark right on the small of her back. She was married, or at least she lived with somebody, he was a big fat ugly slob. Chris hated him. Tonight she was having a shower; the slob was reading a newspaper in front of the telly in a room downstairs.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Chris watched as she rubbed herself with the soap, her fingers lightly brushing over her skin. Chris wanted to get her out of there, get her to run away with him, away from the slob. He heard a noise below, a sort of scratching then some footsteps. He sat completely still, not daring to breathe. He could hear the footsteps getting closer and closer. Then a voice, “Come on Jack, leave that tree alone.” There was a bark and then he heard the voice again. Must have been somebody out walking their dog. Chris gave a big sigh as he heard the footsteps walk away. He waited for a few seconds, then continued to look through the binoculars. Damn! She was gone; he scanned the house frantically trying to find her. The slob was still in his seat, but she was nowhere to be seen. He scanned the house again. Still no sign. He focused again on the slob, sitting there chewing, he was always eating, there never seemed to be a moment when his jaw wasn’t moving. Then she appeared, she walked into the room. She moved over to the slob, the room seemed to light up as she walked, she stood next to him and bent over and kissed him. The slob raised his hand and held the back of her head as they embraced. “He’s forcing her.” Chris thought, “He must be forcing her, look at the way he’s holding her head. There’s no way she’d deliberately kiss him.” Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx The church clock struck ten. Chris had to get going; his Mum would be wondering where he’d got to. He took one last look at her before he slowly climbed down the tree. He dropped quietly to the ground; he stashed the binoculars into one of the deep pockets of his jacket and walked to the edge of the wood. It wasn’t really a wood, that was just what everybody round about called it, it was just a few acres of space where the builders dumped all their rubbish when the estate was being built and a clump of trees had been planted to try and hide the mess. Slowly over the years the wood had become overgrown and the trees thrived, only gangs of kids, a few hardy souls who walked their dogs and courting couples ever used the wood. Chris spent most of his time there, up his favourite tree, watching.

*****

Linda waited in her little flat, she knew that Barry would be back soon, he’d probably spent the night like every other, down at the pub getting pissed with his mates. She could hear the baby crying, but she tried to black it out, she put her hands over her ears, but she couldn’t do it. She got up and walked over to where the baby lay in her cot. The baby was screaming loudly, her face bright red with the exertion. Linda gently picked her up and cradled her against her chest, gently bobbing up and down. “There there Kylie, mummies here.” She whispered.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Slowly the baby calmed down, until Linda could feel her soft breath against her shoulder. She looked at Kylie’s little face, she looked so peaceful when she was asleep. She kind of wished she could be like that all the time. Gently she lowered Kylie back into the cot and pulled the blanket over her. Why couldn’t everybody give their love as unconditionally as Kylie? Linda sat down in front of the television; she stared aimlessly at the screen, not really taking in what it was showing her. Absentmindedly she stroked the small cut on her bottom lip. It was nearly healed now. Maybe she had deserved it like Barry had said, he had had a busy day and she shouldn’t have started on him as soon as he came in, but she’d had a hard day as well, Kylie had been playing up all day and him coming home drunk again, well it was just the last straw. She remembered how it had stung. It was more surprise than anything else, she’d never thought that Barry would ever have hit her, but lately his drinking had been getting worse and his temper was shorter than ever. She’d always said to her friends that if ever any boyfriend of hers hit her then she’d be off like a flash, she’d seen Eastenders and Brookside, she couldn’t understand why these women stayed, but now that it had happened she sort of thought that he hadn’t ment it, after all he had bought her some flowers the next day.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Okay, maybe the flowers were a sign of guilt, but she was ready to forgive him, after all she did like flowers, they brightened up the flat. Just then she heard the front door open, she glanced over to check that Kylie was asleep. “That you Barry?” “Who’d y’ think it wis?” “No one.” “Y’ expectin’ someone else, eh?” “I was just saying.” “Aye yer always jist sayin’, don’t y’ ever stop woman?” It was going to be one of those nights she thought, he’d already reached the paranoid stage. Barry staggered into the room. “Gis a kiss.” He grabbed hold of Linda and pulled her towards him. “Aaw, you stink of drink.” She tried to push him away. “Wha? Am ah no good enuff fur y’ now?” “It’s not that Barry.” “Well whit is it then? You seein’ someone else?” “No Barry.” “Where’s the bastard, Ah’ll fuckin, kill im!” He pushed Linda to one side and started to ransack the flat. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Linda desperately tried to stop him; she grabbed his arm to stop him going for Kylie’s cot. He span round and stared at her wildly. “You hidin’ im bitch? Eh? You fuckin’ hidin’ yur fancy man?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about Barry, there’s nobody here, just me and little Kylie.” Tears streamed down Linda’s face. They stare at each other for a second, a mad look in Barry’s eyes. “Ah’ll fuckin’ teach you.” He pulled back his arm and punched Linda across the face. She span round and fell to the floor. “Ah’m goin’ fur a drink.” Barry walked back out the front door. Linda lay on the floor crying her heart out, blood streaming from her nose.

*****

A small cafe in the city, it’s a quiet night, not many people in. A couple sit by the window watching the world go by, an old man stares intently into the bottom of his coffee cup and a smartly dressed lady in a business suit sits on her own with her mobile phone lying on the table. One of the waiters comes over to the lady and takes her order. He smiles to himself as he walks away from her table, if only he could meet someone like her, mind you he probably couldn’t afford her. Just then a middle aged man walks into the cafe, dressed in a light grey designer suit, his slightly greying hair tied back in a ponytail. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx He confidently walks towards the lady, but sits at the table next to her; he too places his mobile phone on the table. Their eyes meet and they politely smile at each other. The waiter comes over and takes the man’s order. “The usual.” He smiles. The waiter smiles back and walks away, pulling a face as soon as his back is turned. Another waiter comes past carrying a plate in his hand and delivers it to the ladies table; she smiles warmly at him as he sets the plate down. “Thank you.” She smiles; the waiter nods his head courteously and returns to the kitchen. Again their eyes meet and they both smile and the lady starts delicately eating her meal. The waiter returns moments later and places the man’s meal in front of him, he smiles, the waiter nods and the man starts eating. Just then a phone starts ringing, the man picks up his phone and makes to answer it, but realises it’s not his phone that’s ringing, the lady laughs politely as she answers her phone, the man laughs as well and puts his phone down, the lady continues her conversation on the phone. “Hello. Yes that’s right I can do that. It’s a little bit more expensive than usual. Because quality costs extra, if you want the best you have to pay a little bit more. Oh I come highly recommended. That’s right, satisfaction guaranteed. Okay, I’ll meet you there in about an hour.” The man couldn’t help but listen in. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Sorry about that.” She says as she finishes the call. “Don’t worry about it.” The man smiles, “Happens all the time.” “Yes it does.” She laughs. They look at each other momentarily, something seems to pass between them, but they break the look and continue with their meals, but every so often they furtively glance over at each other. They both finish their meal at the same time. The man gets up and walks over to the ladies table. “Do you mind if I join you?” He smiles. “No, by all means.” He sits down across from her; there’s a moment of silence as if they are both thinking about what to say next. “I couldn’t help overhearing.” “Oh?” “Your phonecall, sounded like an important business deal.” “You could say that.” She laughs, throwing her head back as she does so, he doesn’t know why, but he laughs as well. “You have a lovely laugh.” He stops suddenly, she is staring at him intently, and her hands reach across and touch his. There is something between them, he can feel it.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Before he knows what he’s saying, he squeezes her hand, “Is there somewhere we could go?” It sounded all wrong, it sounded sleazy and dirty, he didn’t mean it to sound like that. “I thought you’d never ask.” She smiles. He can’t believe it. She takes him by the hand and leads him from the cafe. The waiters smirk knowingly as they walk past them. She leads him out into the street. “My car’s parked just round the corner.” He says somewhat nervously. “That’s alright, my place is just down here.” She leads him down a small alley. They come to a red door, which she pushes open, “Up the stairs, third on the left.” He looks at her, confused, “I’ll be up in a second, don’t worry.” He slowly climbs up the rickety stairs; “This place is a dump.” He thinks to himself, “What’s someone like her doing in a place like this?” He reaches the third door on the left and opens it, inside is a bare room with just a bed, a small bedside cabinet with a lamp on it. The room is lit by a single bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. “This isn’t right.” He thinks. He sits down on the bed, as there are no chairs. He can hear footsteps coming up the stairs, then she enters the room and closes the door behind her. “You live here?”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Not live exactly.” “What do you mean?” “Put it this way, it serves its purpose. Now are you ready?” “Eh, suppose so?” “Right then, down to business.” “Eh?” Something wasn’t right here he could sense it. “It’s ten pounds for a hand job, twenty for a blow job and fifty for straight sex, anything kinky’s extra and there’s no kissing.” He can’t believe it, this isn’t happening, the first time in ages he’s felt anything for a woman and she turns out to be a whore. “So what you after then?” She stands there in front of him undressing; she is absolutely beautiful, this isn’t happening. “You’re a kinky man aren’t you.” She continues, oblivious to the fact that he isn’t moving, he just stares into space, “I could tell you were from the moment we met, I said to myself, he likes it kinky. I’m right aren’t I?” She sits down next to him on the bed and puts her hand his leg; “Do you like it rough?” He just snaps. He lunges at her and put his hands round her throat. She seems to be smiling, as if to say I knew you liked it rough. This only makes him worse, he shakes her violently. Slowly the smile turns to a look of fear, then her hands start to scrabble at his, then she tries to hit him, but he’s feeling no pain. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Her face turns blue, her struggling gets weaker, tears start to run down his face, her body goes limp and he lets go. He puts her back on the bed as if putting a baby to sleep. He wipes the tears from his eyes. “I could have loved you.” He sniffs.

*****

The darkness is complete; nothing can be seen, the noise of an approaching car can be heard, its headlights illuminating the scene. Sitting cross-legged on a tartan rug a small man sits with a thermos and a small Tupperware box at his side. He leans over and lifts the thermos, slowly twisting off the cap and setting it down to one side, he pours the contents into a small plastic cup, he sets the thermos down and raises the cup to his lips and takes in a long slow breath, savouring the aroma as the steam from the cup swirls gently into the air. The car passes and the scene is returned to darkness, this happens continually as more cars pass, creating a sort of strobe effect as we see the man drink from the cup, sit it down, then open the Tupperware box and remove some sandwiches and slowly eat them. Once the sandwiches are finished he reaches into his pocket and produces a small notepad and a pen, he moves closer to the

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gã|áàxw _Éäx road, lifting up the rug and placing it in a more convenient place, right at the side of the road, he sets himself down and holds the notepad with the pen poised over it. Occasionally a vehicle will pass and there is a flurry of activity as he scribbles various details into the pad. Then the moment comes, the moment he has been waiting for, he can hear its loud rumble approaching, he tenses and pulls himself to his feet, he stands expectantly, every muscle taut and ready to pounce like a wild cat in the jungle. Pen at the ready he wipes his brow nervously as the vehicle headlights shine into his face. Frantically he scribbles into his notepad, noting every detail he can remember. He puts the pen into his mouth and holds it there as he fumbles aimlessly about his neck. DAMN! He’d forgotten the camera. The vehicle passes, its long sleek body gliding serenely past him. Suddenly the wind rushes past him, his hair is blown all over the place, his anorak is lifted off his shoulders and is nearly blown away, and the notepad falls to the ground. He feels as if he is being lifted up to heaven. As he is returned back to reality he turns and stares open mouthed, the pen falls and lies beside the notebook, sheer disbelief, amazement and awe covers his face as he watches the bus disappear into the distance. The scene returns to darkness. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx

*****

They put him in the hospital after his mother died. They said it was for his own good. He constantly moved, he was always twitching, dancing from side to side, but he never spoke, even when they put the electrodes against his head and turned on the current. That was supposed to cure him or so the doctor said, but it never made any difference. Three guards had to restrain him at the end. They didn’t know what made him do it, but one of the guards thought he said something before he died. The guard’s retired now; quit soon after, said he couldn’t cope anymore, nerves or something. Somebody asked the guard if he knew what he’d said before he died. He said it was only one word. Mother.

*****

Linda sat in the flat and felt all on her own, she cradled little Kylie in one arm and held a mirror in the other. She looked at the bruises in the mirror. Her nose was swollen, her left eye was black and the cut on her lip had opened again. She couldn’t look at the flowers. They were there when she came down in the morning. Bloody flowers, as if they made anything any better.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Kylie gurgled to herself; Linda rocked her from side to side. “My little angel, eh? You’d never let me down would you?” Kylie looked up at her with such a look of innocence that it brought a tear to Linda’s eye. She knew then that she had to get out. If not for her sake then at least for little Kylie’s. Just then Linda could hear somebody at the front door. Maybe it was Barry, he’d come back early. She froze, fearing the worst. “You in there Linda?” Linda gave a big sigh of relief; it was only Josie, her best friend, who lived in one of the flats downstairs. She put Kylie back into her cot and moved into the hallway towards the glass door and was about to open it when she remembered the bruises on her face; she couldn’t see Josie looking like this. “I know you’re in there Linda?” Josie shouted, “I can see you through the glass.” Linda stood in the hallway; she could see the Josie’s outline through the glass. “Hurry up and open the door. I’m catching my death out here.” Linda moved towards the door and opened it just a little, peering through the door, making sure that the bruises are hidden. “At last.” Josie screwed up her face when the door isn’t opened fully, “Hey, what’s this, you not letting me in or something?” “I’m not dressed.” Linda mumbled. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Come on.” Josie pushed her way into the flat. Linda slowly closed the door. “Jesus! What happened to your face?” Linda instinctively put her hand to her face, trying to hide. “Did Barry do that?” Linda didn’t say anything; she just ducked her head. “Bastard! If I get my hands on him I’ll bloody kill him.” “It wasn’t his fault” Linda said meekly. “How can it not be his fault? Have you seen your face lately, are you trying to tell me that those bruises just happened by themselves?” Linda started to cry Josie put her arms round her and hugged her tightly. They both moved back into the living room and sat down on the sofa. “Why’d you stay with him Linda?” “Dunno.” “If it was me I’d be off like a shot, my bags would be packed and I’d be out that door faster than you can say divorce.” “But . . .” “But nuthin’, he’s not worth it. Think of Kylie.” “But I still love him.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx *****

Chris lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling and playing with his binoculars. He was trying to think up ways that he could get her away from the slob. Maybe he could run him over in a car, maybe he could poison his food, maybe he could set him on fire. He had to meet her, if he could just speak with her for a while then he was certain that he could make her leave him. That was it, he was going to meet her and then the rest would be easy. He leaned over and turned off the light. The next day, Chris sat on a wall at the edge of the supermarket car park. At the other end of the car park she got out of her car and walked into the supermarket. Chris got up off the wall and followed. He went into the supermarket, picking up a basket on the way, occasionally putting things into it, pretending he was shopping. He followed her up and down the aisles, occasionally she would glance in his direction and Chris would suddenly pretend to be very busy scrutinising a can. Once or twice she doubled back and passed him, he had to control himself, as he wanted so much to touch her. She moved towards the cash desk, Chris dumped his basket and moved to the front doors. He could see her moving towards him laden with several bags.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx He’d made up his mind, he was going to make his move now, he was going to approach her. Before he knew it she was past him and making for her car, Chris quickly ran and caught up with her. He hovered at her shoulder for a second, then he made his move, “Do you want a hand with those?” She turned and looked at him. “The bags.” He pointed, “Can I help you with your bags?” “Thanks.” She smiled. Chris’s heart jumped as she smiled, he nervously took the bags from her. “My car’s just over here.” They walked towards the car, Chris’s mind was racing, he had a thousand things he wanted to say, but he couldn’t put any of them into words. They reached the car and she opened the boot. “Just put them in here thanks.” Chris piled the bags into the boot. She walked round and climbed into the drivers’ seat. Chris closed the boot and walked round the side of the car, she’d rolled down the window and was putting on her seatbelt. “My names Chris.” Was all he could say. “Thanks Chris you’ve been a great help.” She smiled. “I . . .” He was drowned out as she started the car engine.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Maybe we’ll meet again.” She waved and drove off. Chris stood in the car park, staring after her car as she drove away. “She wanted to meet again.” He thought to himself, “I knew she’d prefer me to him.” Chris slowly walked away, making plans of how they would both spend the rest of their lives together.

*****

Linda knew after Josie left that what she had been saying was right. She didn’t have to stay with Barry, she didn’t need this. Look at what her life had become, she spent her days in the flat and she spent her nights in the flat waiting in fear for when Barry would come back, wondering how drunk he’d be this time. He was no longer the man she’d fallen in love with and she knew it was only a matter of time before he took his anger out on Kylie and if he ever did that then she’d have no hesitation, she’d be off like a shot. Just in case she got a suitcase down from the top of the wardrobe and laid it open on the bed, but before she started packing something inside her told her not to go, she could make it work, it wouldn’t always be this bad, eventually things would be back to the way they were and they could get back to being a proper family. She left the bedroom as she heard Kylie crying.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “There there Kylie. What’s the matter eh?” She picked up Kylie and hugged her tight, bouncing her slightly to try and soothe her. Slowly Kylie began to settle and stopped crying. Linda walked round the room gently whispering to Kylie. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her wedding picture, now that was the Barry she married, he looked so handsome in his suit, a wide smile across his face. It seemed like an age since that picture was taken. She was only sixteen when they got married, she’d never have believed that in two years she’d still be here. How things had changed. She used to have dreams, ambitions. She hated to admit it, but her mother had been right. Just then she heard the front door open, she tensed. In walked Barry, he looked awful, bleary eyed and staggering, he was drunk again surprise surprise. He didn’t even acknowledge Linda’s presence; he just walked past her into the bedroom. “Whit the fuck’s this!” She heard him shout. He came back into the room carrying the empty suitcase. “What’s it look like?” She’d forgotten all about it. “Y’ tryin’ to be funny?” She didn’t bother replying, she just walked over to the cot and put Kylie down. “Ah asked y’ a question?” He moved threateningly towards her.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “It’s a suitcase.” She felt brave, “You know normal people use them to put clothes in when they go on holiday.” “Ha, bloody ha. Y’ planin’ oan goan oan holiday then?” “No I’m leaving you.” She wasn’t sure who was more surprised when she said that her or him. “Like fuck y’ are!” He shouted. “What you gonna do about it, hit me again eh?” Barry was surprised at the fact that Linda was fighting back, he didn’t like it, he felt uneasy. He started to back off. Realising Barry was backing off Linda moved in for the kill, “Don’t like it now do you? You’re nothing. I can’t believe I used to love you. You’re nothing but a lump of shit!” God Linda felt good.

*****

Chris waited for her to leave the house, and then he walked along the road and pretended that he’d just coincidentally bumped into her. “Hello again.” She seemed to remember him. “Do you live round here then?” He acted innocently. “Yeah, this is my house.” “Wow, what a coincidence I live just round the corner.” He lied. Plucking up all his courage he decided to take the plunge, “Eh, do you fancy going for a coffee?”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Well . . .” “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” “Aaw alright, coffee it is then.” YEEEEESSS! Chris couldn’t believe his luck. In the coffee shop Chris felt as if he was in heaven, she was actually talking to him. She told him all about her husband and their relationship. Over the next few days they met on several occasions. Chris just sat and listened; she did all the talking. What happened next took Chris completely by surprise. “Would you ever kill anyone?” Chris splurted his coffee, “You wot?” “Would you ever kill anyone?” “Well it’d depend.” “On what?” “On circumstances?” Chris shrugged. “Such as?” “I dunno?” “Well say I asked you?” “Asked me what?” “Say I asked you to kill someone?” “Like who?”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Okay, how about my husband?” Chris couldn’t believe his ears, it was as if his prayers were being answered, she was asking him to kill her husband. She saw the look on his face and mistook it for horror, “Okay, it was a stupid question, pretend I never said it.” How on earth could he do that, she’d answered all his prayers, with the slob out of the way then she’d be all his.

*****

Linda packed the suitcase, she felt good, no she felt great, this was the best thing she’d ever done. After she’d stood up to Barry the rest was easy. He still spent all his time at the pub, but this time when he came back she wouldn’t be here. Kylie gurgled as she played with some of the clothes that lay on the bed; Linda looked at her and knew that she was making the right decision. She quickly put the rest of the clothes into the case and zipped it shut. There was the sound of a car horn from outside, that’d be her taxi. She picked up Kylie in one arm and the suitcase in the other. The car horn sounded again. She took one last look around the flat, she knew she wouldn’t miss this place, “Good riddance.” She smiled.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx *****

The next night Chris was back up in his tree watching the house, memorising the slob’s movements, getting to know his routines. Every Friday he would spend all day working at home and she would spend most of the day out shopping or something. Chris decided Friday would be the day he’d do it. He waited until she left then he crept up to the house, he moved round to the back of the house to an open window he’d seen from his tree. It was as if she’d left it open for him on purpose. He climbed through the open window and tried his best not to make any noise. He tiptoed up the stairs, he knew the slob would be in his study next door to the bathroom. It was strange, he felt as if he knew every part of the house even though he’d never been inside. He took a deep breath just before he entered the study then he strode confidently in. “Who the hell are you?” The slob blurted as he saw Chris, “What’re you doing in my house?” “I’m a friend of your wives.” “Pardon?” Chris grabbed a metal trophy from one of the shelves and moved towards him.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “What do you think you’re doing?” The slob spun round in his chair so that he now faced Chris. Chris blanked everything out, all he could think about was her, as he charged towards the slob and brought the trophy down hard on his head. The slob tried to put his hands up to protect himself, but Chris just kept hitting him. Blow after blow rained down, blood splattered all over Chris. He stared down at his handy work; the slob lay in a bloody mess. Now she would be his forever.

***** Barry sat alone in the flat; a pile of empty beer cans littered the floor. The flat seemed empty; he didn’t realise how much he missed the sound of a crying baby. In his fingers he played with one of Linda’s dressed that she’d left behind, life just wasn’t the same since Linda left him.

*****

The policeman led her down the identity parade. She walked past everybody and out of the room. Chris sweated profusely as she passed him, he could only just hold on to the card that had the number four written on it, that they’d given him.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Well do you recognise any of them?” The policeman asked her. “Number four.” She said confidently, “He’s the one I’ve seen hanging about the house.” “Well done.” “How did you find him?” “It was easy really, he’d more or less left a trail of blood back to his house and then there were the bloody handprints.” The policeman almost laughed. She fainted at the mention of blood. The policeman caught her and guided her over to a chair. “Are you alright?” “Yes, I’m fine now.” She smiled weakly. “There’s one thing we can’t work out.” “What’s that?” “Well there’s no connection between him and your husband. We’ve no idea why he’d even want to kill your husband. You wouldn’t know why would you?” “I’d never even seen him before a few days ago.” The policeman nodded, he seemed satisfied with that. She smiled to herself and walked away.

CAUGHT IN TWO MINDS

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gã|áàxw _Éäx The moon creeps out from behind the clouds, an eerie silvery light illuminates everything. Bob looks down at his hands; the blood looks black as pitch. He looks across the garden at the children’s climbing frame and smirks to himself; they won’t be using that again in a hurry. He looks back up at the house, all the lights off; it looks almost peaceful now. He walks over to the wooden bench, secluded by a tall tree, he feels peaceful. He sits down and closes his eyes. It doesn’t take long for the voices to come back. “Feel better now?” He sits up with a start, his eyes wide with terror. He frantically searches the garden for a sign, but the moon has slid quietly behind the clouds, returning everything to a murky gloom. “I asked if you felt better?” The voice drolls menacingly. He spins round to where he thought the voice was coming from, but nothing is there. “What do you want?” He croaks, only just managing to get the words out. A pressure weighs down on him almost suffocating. “I’m only enquiring as to your well being, after your...” The voice pauses “Exertion.” Bob tries to swallow, but his throat is now so dry. “You had fun didn’t you?” “NOOOOO!!!” Bob holds his head in his hands, shaking violently. He covers his ears to try and block out the voices. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx How could they know? How could they know already? “It’s all right. It’s a natural reaction.” The voice talks slowly and calmly “First calm then shock.” Bob stands up, moving away from the bench. He wheels about violently, thrashing at anything within reach. Then he falls. Crashes to the ground, tripping over a child’s toy. His head hits off the ground. He cries out in pain. “Ooo. I bet that hurt.” Bob starts sobbing uncontrollably. “I’d be in the same state if I’d just killed four people.” “NOOOOO!!!” He clamps his eyes shut, in an attempt to hide.

*****

He opens his eyes, but has to quickly shut them as a strong bright light shines above. Slowly he becomes accustomed to the light. He tries to take in his surroundings. It’s difficult, everything is white. The walls, the floor, the ceiling, everything is white. “I’m in heaven.” He smiles to himself. Three doctors watch him from the other side of a one way mirror. One of them whispers in the others ear, while the third scribbles something down on a clipboard.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “An interesting subject, no?” “The subject exhibits classic signs of paranoia.” “And delusions too.” They each scribble something down on their clipboards. Bob tries to get up from the bed, but soon discovers he’s tied down. He struggles with the straps, but they just get tighter and tighter. “Thought you’d got away with it didn’t you?” The voice sounds very close. Bob’s eyes fill up with panic. “You didn’t think I’d let you, did you?” Bob tries frantically to break free. The doctors make more notes. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.” Bob screams at the top of his lungs. An orderly walks calmly into the room and places a huge hand on Bob’s arm. With his free hand he pushes a syringe into a vein. Bob, transfixed with fear, doesn’t know what’s happening. He can’t move, he can’t talk. His eyeballs just stare wildly at the orderly. Suddenly a soothing calmness takes over his body, he tries to keep his eyes open, but they are so heavy. He tries to resist, but eventually he secomes and his eyes slowly slide shut.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx *****

He gently caresses the scar that runs the length of her cheek. It’s an old scar, but it brings a feeling of calmness to him. He can feel her trembling under his touch. Fear intrigues him. It excites him. He produces a knife and waves it slowly in front of her face. Her eyes follow it hypnotically. She lets out a little whimper. He smiles and tries to control the laughter building up inside him. He hears a noise behind him and spins round momentarily releasing the girl from his grasp. She seizes her chance and makes a run for it. Caught in two minds, he doesn’t know if he should go after the girl or protect himself from the intruder. He decides to let the girl go. “Remember me!” He shouts after her as she scrabbles out of the darkness and into the light and safety. He checks his lair for signs of the intruder, but can find nothing. He curses his misfortune at losing the girl.

*****

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gã|áàxw _Éäx The doctors watch from the safety of their vantagepoint, scribbling on their clipboards as Bob’s body writhes and twitches, his arms and legs straining against the straps. An orderly stands at the head of the bed with two metal rods in his hands; on the end of the rods is what looks like small sponges. The orderly adjusts his grip; he finds it difficult to hold tightly while wearing the rubber gloves. He adjusts something on a small white box and pushes the rods against the side of Bob’s head. His body jumps and jolts violently, his teeth bite down hard on a rubber grip forced into his mouth. Tears look as if they are welling up in his eyes. The orderly shows no emotion at all.

*****

“Remember me?” The voice sounds crystal clear. Bob looks round, but nobody is looking at him. The tube station is crowded with people, all of them going about their daily, but not one of them looks at Bob. They all rush past, lost in their own little worlds. Some even bump into him without a word of apology being said. The owner of the voice is nowhere to be found. Bob carries on. “Are you ignoring me?” The voice mocks him “I won’t go away that easily.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Bob looks from face to face, but every one of them looks dead and lifeless. Until he sees a girl of about eighteen, her face full of laughter and sunshine. “That’s her.” The voice speaks in a low suggestive murmur “She’s the one.” Without thinking Bob walks towards the girl. They strike up a conversation. The girl seems to talk a lot of words, but Bob doesn’t really hear any of them. All he can hear is the voice egging him on. “Look at her she’s perfect. Can you imagine it, your hand on her thin slender white neck? That’s all it would need, one little twist and she’d be yours forever.” They both get on the train, it doesn’t matter where it’s going, anywhere will do. The girl talks non-stop, a mixture of giggles and squeals. She seems desperate to unburden herself. Spouting nonsense to a stranger, or maybe Bob’s just the first person to listen. If only she knew. Bob found himself walking down a deserted street. Still the girl was talking. At first he quite liked her, but now she was just annoying. Her voice was like fingernails down a blackboard. He cringed every time she opened her mouth. Maybe it was better that way. He wanted rid of her. “The garage. Try the garage.” The voice mutters.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Bob walks towards the doors of a large lock-up garage. Gingerly he pushes them open. The door swings open with ease. He slowly walks inside; the girl gladly follows him. Slowly their eyes become accustomed to the gloom; they can make out the shape of a car hidden under a tarpaulin. The voice seems vast; it goes on forever. The girl follows him everywhere he goes. Now she’s really getting annoying. “Do it. Do it now.” The voice starts to chant over and over, more insistent each time. A large mirror rests against the wall, Bob sees his reflection. With one violent swing he smashes the glass with his fist. The girl screams, but not for long. Bob grabs her by the throat and threatens her with a long shard of glass. Her screams caught in her throat she stares wide eyed and terrified. “Do it. Do it.” The voice continues its chant. With one sudden swipe he brings the shard down into her neck, her warm blood splashing onto his face. Her limp body hangs limp in his grasp, at last she is silent. He closes his eyes and savours the moment.

*****

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gã|áàxw _Éäx He opens his eyes, the bright glare of the lights startle him, he tries to move, but finds he’s still strapped down. He lifts up his head and looks round, the blank white walls stare back at him. He’s confused. Was he here all the time? Has he been dreaming? “It’s real.” The voice laughs maniacally inside his head. Fear fills his mind. He must escape, but the straps hold him back. There must be a way. There has to be a way. “I told you.” The voice mocks him “You’re stuck with me.” He thrashes violently against the restraints, but to no avail. Two orderlies rush in, one pins him down while the other pushes a large needle into his arm. The urge to escape slowly recedes, while a cloudy calm comes over him.

*****

The girl lies before him. A brutal bloody gash now spread across her throat. Her eyes stare lifelessly up at him. He can’t stand the way she’s looking at him; it’s almost as if she’s asking him. Asking him why.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx He kneels down beside her and gently, almost lovingly, closes her eyes. The blade catches the light, sparkling brightly, as he brings it down to bear on her chest. Her head falls back and her lifeless eyes open and continue to stare at him as he slices her from neck to navel. A siren sounds, disturbing his quiet work, he jumps to his feet and makes for the shadows. The sirens become louder, he closes his eyes, trying to remain calm.

*****

He opens his eyes slowly. The sirens still blaring. His surroundings are unfamiliar at first; the covers of the bed lie tangled round his feet. The sounds of orderlies running and shouting in the corridor outside. He looks down at his hands. The straps are broken, blood drips from his red raw wrists. He kicks at the covers, but they are strangely heavy. One final thrust reveals the face of an orderly staring up at him. The orderly’s body is strangely twisted; Bob recoils in horror trying to get as far away as he can. His scrabblings jerk the bed and the body falls to the floor.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “What’s it like?” The voice sneers “To be like me, to have his blood on your hands? To feel what I feel?” Bob covers his ears, but he can feel the blood running down his face. His heart pounds faster and faster, he tries frantically to look for a way out. “Quiet a rush in’it?” “Who are you?” Bob finally plucks up the courage to ask the voice. “You need to ask?” The voice laughs “I am the nice comfortable dark area you like to hide. I am the bitter and twisted side. I am what puts you at ease. I am your better half. I am you.” “NOOOOO!!!” Bob screams with all his remaining strength. “YES.” The voice laughs. Bob catches a glimpse of a syringe lying on the floor. He quickly makes a grab for it and without pausing or thinking plunges it deep into his own neck. “NOOOOOOO!!!” The voice quietly dies. “Yes.” Bob smiles as he slumps to the floor.

PAST & PRESENT

Have you ever had one of those mornings where you look at yourself in the mirror and wonder who the hell it is that’s looking

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gã|áàxw _Éäx back? Well I seem to be having one of those lives. I was actually in a good mood when I woke up, nearly whistling, which must mean something. But the place was a bit quiet, I suppose I should have noticed it then, but I was too busy glorying in my good mood. The kitchen was deserted, everything in its proper place, except for one thing. Now she must’ve put it there on purpose knowing that it would be the first place I’d go. And there it was, sitting loud and proud, propped up against the kettle, this pristine white envelope with Tony written in blue pen on the front of it. I still made a cup of tea, got to complete the little rituals y’know. All I did was stare at it for a few minutes wondering what it was. Obviously I knew it was a letter from her, but you know what I mean. Half way through my cup of tea I plucked up the courage and opened it. It was as if the sky had come crashing down, the lights had gone out, there was a thumping in my chest, and I felt sick. She’d left me. I read and reread the letter trying to make sense of it, but it wasn’t going in. My brain couldn’t work it out. She’d left me. To say it came as a shock would be a bit of an understatement. Only the other night she’d been telling me . . . . . Suddenly the penny dropped, the other night she hadn’t been telling how much I meant to her. I must’ve been hearing what I wanted to hear, not really taking in the words. No wonder she was getting into a

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gã|áàxw _Éäx bit of a state. It was all coming back to me now, what she’d been telling me the other night was goodbye. I read the letter one more time, just to make sure that my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. Sure enough it wasn’t, the same words stared accusingly back at me. If it weren’t so tragic I’d have laughed. Instead I did the complete opposite; I bawled my eyes out. It was the only thing I could think to do. I found myself looking at the mirror again, me red puffy eyes staring back at me. I didn’t really recognise my reflection. I’ve never studied it before, it’s funny how you get used to that sort of thing, you see it day in and day out, then you find you’re not really thinking about it, not concentrating. Taking it for granted. I suppose, now that I think about it that’s what I did with Sue. I’d known Sue since I was about fourteen; we went to the same school. She was one of the coolest girls there; I didn’t have a look in. She was going out with Danny Tranter the captain of the football team, a real thug of a gut. Nearly every kid in school was terrified of him, but not Sue; she could wrap him round her little finger. It wasn’t until five years later that we met up again, needless to say she didn’t recognise me, but I knew her instantly. My knees went weak when I saw her. I was in this band “The Derivatives”, I played lead guitar. I’d learnt the guitar at school it was one of the few things I was good at, it was also one of the things that Danny Tranter used to beat us up over. He thought the music school was for poofs. Danny Tranter couldn’t play music for toffee, it was about the only thing he couldn’t do, he was excellent at sport, but give him a musical Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx instrument and he was terrible. I made the mistake of laughing once, let’s just say I never did that again in a hurry. The band were playing a gig at this pub, a dive of a place, huge hairy men and even hairier women, sawdust on the floor. You know the sort of place. Then midway through one of our songs in walked with a bunch of other people. I missed more than a few notes. We took a break, the set was crap, the rest of the guys in the band asked me what I was playing at. I could hardly speak let alone explain. I couldn’t take my eyes off Sue. Now somehow we got talking, don’t ask me how I can’t remember, I think I was in a complete daze. I didn’t mention the fact that I knew her from school as that would only have led to embarrassment and probably name calling. To my complete astonishment we soon became an item, she came to all the gigs and was my one and only groupie. Until one day she decided that the band wasn’t good enough for me, she reckoned I should have a proper job (whatever that is?). Now me being a bit of a sheep and a massive coward agreed with all this, not once did it enter my head that I was qualified for bugger all, but like I said I didn’t think that. Thirty-three and a half interviews later, a half because the guy was a complete dickhead so I just walked out, I ended up at this firm. The Data Entry Department to be precise, sitting in front of a computer for eight hours a day punching in numbers. Now if I’d been a real man I’d have walked out on my first day, but no not me. Five years down the line I’m still there at the same bloody

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gã|áàxw _Éäx computer entering the same bloody numbers. Like I said if I was a real man. Martin Chivers, or Mr Chivers as he liked us to call him, BaldyFuck is what we usually call him, is in charge of our little department. As you can probably tell we do love him so, jumped up little asshole that he is. Now on this particular morning nothing unusual was happening, got to work in a foul mood, punched in a few numbers to make it look as if I was interested then got bored and started daydreaming. No sooner had I started to get to an interesting bit when Chivers parked himself next to my desk and nudged me. “I’d like to see you in my office.” He whined. He had this annoying kind of high-pitched voice that seemed to elongate every possible syllable, like fingernails down a blackboard. It got right inside your head until your teeth ached. His office. That was a joke as well, it was just a desk with three chipboard walls that partitioned him off from the rest of us. Office? If someone farted next to it it’d all fall down. “It’s not easy to say this, but . . . .” He started to whine again. It’s about this point that I usually switch off, I can see his mouth moving, but as for words I haven’t a clue. “Mr Jones?” His mouth stopped moving, this must’ve been the point I was supposed to say something. I couldn’t be bothered; I just stared at him blankly.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Mr Jones do you understand what I’m telling you?” I hadn’t a clue what he was going on about, I just continued to stare. “I know this must be difficult for you.” What was this idiot on about? “But the current economic climate and all that, I’m sure you understand.” He stood up and made to shake my hand, I automatically pulled myself away. “There’s no need to be like that, it’s not my fault we’re letting you go.” Wait a minute! Did he just say what I think he said? He did didn’t he. Oh great! First Sue now BaldyFuck. I could feel my anger building up, I was turning red, it’s what usually happens. Part of me was quietly whispering “It’s not worth it, you never liked the job anyway.” But it was far too quiet, drowned out by the rush of blood that was flowing like a steam train, all of it towards my head. Finally something snapped, I did what I should have done ages ago. I clocked him. A sweet right hook right on the chin. Years of frustration and anger were built up in that one punch. BaldyFuck kind of flew through the air like a strange graceful extinct bird. His arms and legs flew about, knocking chairs and his desk sideways; it looked almost as if he was trying to perform an unusual ballet. People came rushing round to see what the noise was about. A small crowd gathered as I walked away, someone sniggered and

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gã|áàxw _Éäx cheered, another applauded. Soon they were all doing it. I walked proudly and slowly out of the office with their applause wringing in my ears. I stood at the main entrance and looked up at the sky, blue seemed to be breaking through the grey for what seemed like the first time in ages. I walked away with a song in my heart promising that I’d never darken this door again. Life though has a funny way of kicking you in the balls when you least expect it. The next few days were fine, lonely but fine. I pottered about the flat, tidying everything in sight. As the days went on though I struggled desperately to fill the hours. Even sleep became difficult until eventually I gave up and wandered the streets at night waiting until I might get tired. I wouldn’t recommend this course of action to everybody though. The city changes completely at night. All the freaks come out to play. There was Bert, the plastic bag man; he had thousands of old carrier bags shoved inside carrier bags. They were his pride and joy; he wouldn’t go anywhere without them. His lifetimes work he called them. Then there was Maggie, a real lady of night, sold herself for twenty quid every night. She knew these streets like the back of her hand, but nobody really knew her.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx I don’t know how long I’d walked the streets, but it must’ve been a long time because when I returned to my flat it was boarded up and the locks had been changed. Had I really been away that long? It’s strange, but I didn’t really miss the flat and all its creature comforts, I seemed to feel more at ease amongst the street people. Now don’t get me wrong, I ended up on the streets through choice, so I don’t want you feeling sorry for me. The last thing anybody wants is pity. One thing I did notice very quickly was how you became invisible to people. There you’d be standing in the middle of the high street while everybody floods past you. You could scream, but nobody would hear you. Cardboard city is a very good phrase to describe where we live; it’s a city within a city. Under the flyover at least thirty of us lived off the scraps others threw away. Winters are the worst, we all huddle round the fire, watching the orange light flicker and light up the flyover above us. Maggie drowns her sorrows in a bottle after a rare moment of closeness she’s told me about her daughter she’d never seen. She’d had to give her up, what kind of life could she give her, but not a day went by when she didn’t think of her. It’s hard, but you don’t think of people as having other lives, I suppose each of us had our reasons for being here. This old wino, who looked about seventy, but was probably only forty, tried to throw some of Bert’s plastic bags onto the fire. Bert made a grab for him; the wino dodged backwards and started to dance a jig

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gã|áàxw _Éäx as he kept the bags just out of Bert’s reach. Bert didn’t give up, in desperation he smacked the wino in the face. Blood poured from his face, he clutched at his nose. He looked at his blood soaked hands. “Ya fuckin bastard!” He spat blood, spittle and tears. Bert smiled at the guy thinking he’d won, but the wino took a step back and hurled the bags into the fire. Bert went absolutely ape, arms flailing, legs kicking and teeth biting. The wino didn’t stand a chance; he fell on his back. Bert was on him in seconds. All of a sudden the mood changed a crowed surrounded them, baying for blood. Maggie waving her bottle in the air like a trophy. It wasn’t my sort of thing; I abhorred any form of violence, so I snuck away. The night was nearly over and daylight was trying to break through the clouds. The city was slowly waking up. People finishing their nightshift, deliverymen delivering and some poor sods on their way to work. In the halflight of dawn the city looked almost attractive. The golden sunlight reflecting off the tall glass buildings. If it weren’t for the people this place would be beautiful. The eerie silence was broken as more and more cars started to stream past. It took me a long time to realise, but I actually hated the city. I headed for the only bit of green for miles. The park. Solitude. That was what it was all about.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx I sat down on an isolated bench; I had a view of the main road and most of the park. I just sat and watched the world go by. A tune entered my head, you know like they do, burying into your subconscious and festering there. It was one of Sue’s favourites, I don’t know why it entered my head at that moment, it just did. Then as if by miracle Sue walked by on the street outside the park. She was pushing a pram. Seeing her blew me away, but pushing a pram, that was unbelievable. Without thinking I got up off the bench and started to follow her. She stopped at a few shop windows, I watched as she cooed and played with the baby. She was even more beautiful than I remembered. I couldn’t help myself; I had to speak to her. She continued walking; I caught up with her. I must’ve looked a sight ‘cos she screamed and tried to get away from me. She darted across the road. She hadn’t recognised; I followed her and tried to explain. The more I followed the more she tried to get away. I shouted her name. She stopped, puzzled. She didn’t see the car. Without thinking I leapt and pushed Sue and the pram out of the way. The pain that shot through my body was unbelievable. I could see Sue and the driver looking down at me. “Tony?” Sue wrinkled her nose like she always did when she was confused. I think I smiled. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Things went dark.

*****

Heaven ain’t that bad a place at all. There’s some good guys here (and girls). I’ve started playing in a band again. Jimi’s been teaching me, he knows some mean chords. I still keep an eye on Sue every now and then, just to make sure things are all right. The baby’s growing up fast, she looks just like Sue.

P.M.T. (PRE-MILLENNIUM TENSION)

The pot sat on the cooker, the contents slowly bubbling away. The noise of a hoover hummed loudly from the front room. All was quiet elsewhere, the calm before the storm. Footsteps thudded down the stairs and into the front room. “Don’t stand there, I’ve just cleaned that!” Maureen screamed at Gordon. Gordon looked down at the carpet beneath his feet, he thought it looked exactly the same as it always did, though he wouldn’t dream

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gã|áàxw _Éäx of saying that to Maureen, he wasn’t brave enough. Instead he turned tail and walked sheepishly out of the room. “Should this be doing that?” Gordon called from the kitchen. “What? What?” Maureen dropped the hoover where it stood and raced into the kitchen “Oh for God’s sake.” She quickly pulled the pot off the cooker, its contents now bubbling over and pouring down the sides “Can’t you do anything right?” “What?” Gordon pleaded “it wasn’t my fault.” “No it never bloody is.” Maureen pushed Gordon out of the way and started cleaning up the mess. “I didn’t know.” “What would your Carol say if she was to see this?” Carol was Gordon’s sister; Maureen and Carol were always in competition with each other, each thinking that they were the better. Gordon was sick to the back teeth with the two of them. He just wanted the quiet life. No chance of that this year, this was the big one, the big millennium, the one that everyone had been going on about. Carol would have loved it if she could have been the host of the biggest event this century, but Maureen had asked first, way back in bloody March. She’d been building up to this all year and now here it was upon them and Gordon was dreading it.

*****

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “I’ll bet you it’s the same as last time.” Carol stood in front of the bedroom mirror admiring her trim figure, which she didn’t mind admitting at the age of forty five she was very proud of, in fact only the other day her friend Annabel said she didn’t look a day over thirty. “What?” Bob her husband lay sprawled on the bed, still half asleep. “Tonight!” Carol stared indignantly at Bob’s reflection “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten about it?” “How could I?” Bob mumbled and rolled over trying to bury his face in the pillow. He’d had to put up with this bitter rivalry for nearly twenty years now. It wouldn’t be so bad, but he actually liked Gordon and Maureen, they were the type of couple he wished Carol and himself had become, not a pseudo social climber that Carol wanted to be, always better than everybody else.

*****

Gordon stood at the back door and surveyed his kingdom, his small back garden that he’d grown with his own fair hand. At least it was quiet out here. He could hear Maureen clattering about in the kitchen, he thought it’d be best if he stayed out of the way. He sat down on one of the white plastic garden chairs, reached into his pocket and lit a cigarette. He leaned back and savoured the moment.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Gordon!” He nearly fell off the chair in shock. “Gordon!” Maureen bellowed from the kitchen. Gordon huffed to himself, no rest for the wicked, he stubbed his cigarette out and pulled himself out of the chair and trudged into the kitchen. “Yes my dear?” He stood in the doorway watching Maureen run about like a blue arsed fly. He couldn’t understand it, normally she was a sane rational human being, well as sane as anyone could be, and then this time of year she just seemed to go berserk. “Can you get me the sprouts? Oh and peel the potato’s and grate the carrots.” “Do you want me to stick a broom up my arse and sweep the floor as well?” Gordon mumbled under his breath. “What was that?” “Nothing darling. Where did you say the sprouts were?” “The cupboard under the sink.” Gordon slowly and calmly gathered his tools for the task ahead and prepared a space for himself amongst the clutter. “Here give me that.” Maureen pushed Gordon out of the way “God do I have to do everything myself?” “I was...” Gordon realised his pleas would fall on deaf ears, so he quietly walked out of the kitchen, picked up the newspaper on the

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gã|áàxw _Éäx way he trudged up the stairs to the bathroom, the safest room in the house.

***** “What do you think of this one?” Carol tried her third outfit on. “Aye it’s fine.” Bob didn’t even look up. “You said that about the last one.” “Aye, well it was fine too.” “Robert!” Carol snapped “You’re not even looking.” “Whichever one you pick you’ll always look gorgeous to me.” Bob used his standard reply, which usually got him out of situations like this. “You think so?” “Course.” Bob stood up and kissed her on the shoulder, Carol giggled girlishly. Saved again Bob thought.

*****

“I can’t get this tie fastened.” “For goodness sake Gordon, it’s the same every time.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Maureen strode over to Gordon, who was struggling in front of the mirror; she spun him round and started to tie the tie herself. “Why do I have to wear a tie anyway?” Gordon grumbled “You know I hate them.” “Because it’s a special occasion.” “But it’s the same every year.” “Not this time, this time it’s the millennium, and don’t you go showing me up this year.” “Eh?” Gordon fained innocence. “The fountain?” “Oh that.” Gordon blushed. Maureen finished straightening up Gordon and stood back admiring her handiwork. “Will I do?” “I suppose you’ll have to.” Maureen turned back to the mirror, she smiled smugly to herself, this was going to be her year she thought to herself. “Now you know what to do?” “Yes dear.” Gordon sighed. Maureen had been going over this routine for the past four months, it was like a military operation, and Gordon knew it was more than his life was worth to get any of it wrong.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx *****

Bob tooted the horn; he sat in the car waiting for Carol. It was always the same, she always insisted on being what she called fashionably late. Bob checked his watch; it was quarter to nine, they were supposed to be there at nine. “At last.” Bob sighed as Carol finally came out of the front door. “Ready?” He asked her. “I’m sure I’ve forgotten something.” Carol pursed her lips in thought. “It’s probably not important.” “Mmmm.” Carol was miles away as Bob started the car.

*****

“Where are they?” Maureen paced up and down the front room, nearly frantic. “They’ll be here soon, you know what Carol’s like.” “She’s doing this to me on purpose.” Maureen’s face gets redder and redder. “Don’t get yourself in a state.” “In a state! In a state!” Maureen looked as if he was going to explode “Aunt Millie, Uncle George and Grandpa will be here soon Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx and they’re supposed to be the surprise guests. It doesn’t do for the surprise guests to arrive and there’s no one here to greet them.” “We’ll be here.” “But that’s not the point, Carol and Robert are supposed to be here.” “Well if they’re not we could always send the car round the block again.” Maureen shot Gordon a look that could have killed. “It was only a suggestion.” Gordon smiled meekly.

*****

Aunt Millie, Uncle George and Grandpa sat in the back of the taxi, Grandpa was fast asleep. “So you over here for the millennium thingie?” The taxi driver spoke to them while watching them in the rear view mirror. “Yes.” Millie looked out the window, things had changed since they emigrated to Canada fifteen years ago, and not for the better. She watched the unkempt gardens, the dilapidated houses, this used to be such a nice area. She shook her head. Grandpa snorted in his sleep, his teeth rattled.

*****

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gã|áàxw _Éäx

Bob tooted the horn. The traffic was backed up along the street, roadworks or something. “Must be the millennium bug come early, eh?” Carol adjusted her make up. Bob looked at his watch; they were going to be late.

*****

Maureen adjusted the bowls of assorted nuts she’d dotted about the living room. “They should’ve been here ages ago, the others will be here soon.” She mumbled to herself as she fidgeted. A car horn tooted from outside. “Oh my God it’s them.” She panicked “Quick Gordon do something.” Gordon went outside and up to the taxi. Maureen watches from the window, she could see words being exchanged and then the taxi drove off again. “What’s going on?” Maureen demanded to know as Gordon came back in. “I just asked him to go round the block a couple of times.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Oh my God.” Maureen held her head in her hands “What must they think of me?”

*****

Bob came round the final corner, nearly hitting the taxi. “Bloody idiot!” “What? Who?” Carol looked up from her make up bag. “Nothing it’s alright.” Bob shook his head and parked the car in the driveway

*****

The doorbell rang. “Finally.” Maureen launched herself at the door. The usual pleasantries were exchanged. Bob and Gordon shook hands and exchanged knowing looks. Let the battle commence they both thought. Maureen ushered them through to the front room. The doorbell rang again. “I wonder who that could be?” Maureen asked in faked surprise. She made a show of going to answer the door. There was a scream of surprise and Maureen returns. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Look who’s here.” She cried pushing Aunt Millie, Uncle George and Grandpa into the room. Millie and George stand like startled animals caught in the headlights of a car. Grandpa made straight for a seat and promptly fell fast asleep. “Isn’t this lovely.” Maureen smiled maniacally. “I’ll get the drinks.” Gordon took his chance and escaped to the kitchen. They all stood round looking at each other, none of them knowing what to say. The silence was painful. “I’ll just check on dinner.” Maureen blurted “Make yourselves at home.” Maureen dashed to the kitchen and caught Gordon drinking a glass of whisky. “Dutch courage.” Gordon downed the drink in one. “This is a disaster.” Maureen was near to tears. “Don’t worry love, things will soon liven up.” “But they’re standing about like strangers.” “Well they are.” “Pardon?” “Millie and George are your relatives, Carol’s never seen them before.” “Why didn’t you mention this before?”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “You didn’t ask.” “What about Grandpa?” “Oh yeah she’s met Grandpa.” Maureen sighed with relief. “But they don’t get on.” “What do you mean?” “You remember five years ago?” Maureen looked blank. “The incident with the duck?” “Oh God!” Maureen sobbed into her hands “This was supposed to be my big night.” Gordon poured himself another whisky.

*****

Millie and George looked blankly at each other. “Who are they?” Millie whispered. George shrugged and shook his head. Bob looked at Carol; she studied her nails, no help there then. “So’d you come far?” Bob tried to get the ball rolling. “Canada.” Millie replied. “Crickey that’s a long way.” Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Millie smiled meekly. “No seriously though, I’ve always wanted to go there, you lived there long?” “Bout fifteen years.” George chipped in. “Must be quiet a culture shock coming back after all this time?” “We were going to do it a few years ago, but y’know.”

*****

Maureen heard the ensuing conversation from the kitchen. She visibly brightened and busied herself with the final preparations to the night’s meal.

*****

“Dinner’s ready.” Maureen poked her head into the front room. They all turned and looked, slightly disappointed that their flow had been interrupted. They all gather round the dinning room table, all except Grandpa. “Gordon, go and wake Grandpa.” Maureen dug him in the ribs. “No fear.” Gordon moaned “You know what he’s like if you wake him.” Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “But he’ll miss his dinner.” “Would you rather he stayed asleep or have him make your life hell like the last time?” “I suppose.” Maureen relented. “So George, tell me about your melons.” Gordon changed the subject.

*****

The meal went well, Maureen was the perfect hostess, Grandpa was still asleep, much to the relief of everyone. Even Carol seemed to be enjoying herself. Gordon helped Maureen clear the table. Gordon smiled at her, she smiled back, things must be going well.

*****

Only minutes to the bells, they’d nearly survived. Maureen came in to the room carrying a tray filled with shortbread, Christmas cake and mince pies. She placed them on a table in the middle of the room leaving strict instructions for them not to be touched. “Has everybody got a drink?” Maureen raced round the room “Millie you alright? Robert how bout you?”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Fine.” Bob raised his glass. Then the moment she’d been dreading all evening, she’d been putting it off again and again, but now she had to do it. She walked up to Grandpa and shook him gently. “Grandpa?” She whispered “Do you want a drink?” “Eh whit?” Grandpa barked into life. “A drink Grandpa?” “Whisky.” He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and took in his surroundings; his eyes flickered round the room taking in his unfamiliar surroundings. His eyes flashed round all the faces in the room stopping at Carol “Aaw Christ, no you.” “Hello Grandpa.” Carol tried to smile. “Ah’m no yir Grandpa.” Grandpa scowled. “So Grandpa how’s your feet?” Gordon tried to stop a fight. “Don’t get us started oan ma feet.” Grandpa grumbled “See those bloody doctors they dinnie know thir arse fae thir elbow.” “There’s your whisky.” “Bout time.” Grandpa grabbed the glass from Maureen and took a sip “Ach it’s too weak.” “Here I’ll get you another.” Maureen tried to take the glass from Grandpa, but he clutched it tightly. “Naw its awright.” Taking another sip “Jist get us anur wan, an dae it right this time. Straight nae water.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Everybody tried to avoid making eye contact with Grandpa, hoping that they wouldn’t be on the end of his next tongue-lashing. Grandpa leaned forward and took one of the mince pies, scoffing it in two bites; the others all gasped and stared. Maureen came back with Grandpa’s drink. “Ta much.” Grandpa finished the first one and took the second. Maureen stared at the tray in suspicion. “Did somebody...?” “No. No.” All of them replied as Grandpa picked at bits of mince pie stuck in his teeth. “It’s nearly time, turn the telly on.” Maureen checked her watch. Pictures of a large party at a castle, everybody in kilts and evening dress, same as last year and the year before and the one before that. “Gie us anur drink love.” Grandpa waved his glass in Maureen’s face. “But it’s...” Maureen tried to argue, but Grandpa continued to wave the glass in her face. “Oh alright then.” She scuttled off to the kitchen. Maureen set about pouring another whisky when a loud cheer erupted from the front room. She rushed back to the front room; Millie and George were toasting each other. Carol, Bob and Gordon were jumping about in the middle of the floor.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Where’s ma whisky?” Grandpa moaned. “I missed it.” Maureen stood open-mouthed “The beginning of a new century, a once in a lifetime event and I bloody missed it.” “Where’s ma whisky?” “Here’s your bloody whisky!” Maureen threw the drink in Grandpa’s face. Grandpa was too shocked to react. “God that felt good. I should have done it years ago.” The others burst out laughing and gave Maureen a round of applause. Gordon came over and patted her on the back. “Here’s to a new future.” He raised his glass in a toast.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx

TWO MEN IN A LIFT “Hud the lift!” Willie raced towards the lift; the two bags carrying his carry out rattled and clanked as he ran. Eric put his hand out to stop the door from closing as Willie pushed his way in. “Ta much.” Willie puffed. “Nae problem.” Eric eyed Willie’s carry out “Planin a party?” “Aye, its ma mate’s birthday.” “Aye.” The doors slid shut. “Which flaer y wantin?” Eric asked. “Twelve.” “Right y are.” Eric pressed the button and the lift lurched into life “Ah’m goan tae the sixteenth ma self.” “Oh aye.” Willie stared up at the flashing lights indicating which floor they are on. “Aye, ma wife’s cookin us a special dinner.” “Aye?” Willie wasn’t really interested; he just wanted to get to the party.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “She’s a grand cook ma wife, y should taste her spag bol, no that she’s cookin spag bol the night y understand. Naw tonight’s a special night, lamb casserole Ah think she said, or wis it a curry?” “Sounds nice.” Willie at least tried to make an effort. “Oh aye it’ll be nice.” Eric smiled “Y’re welcome tae come if y want.” “Party an aw tha, y’know.” Willie raised his carry out in explanation. “Oh aye party. Right enuff.” The two stand in silence watching the lights, the lift seemed to be moving very slowly, the lights taking an age to flick from one floor to another. “C’moan.” Willie muttered under his breath. “They always take longer when you watch the lights.” “Seems so.” Willie started tapping his foot in impatience. “Its no gonnie make it go any faster.” “Eh?” “Daen that wi yir foot, its no gonnie make the lift go any faster.” “Mibbee naw, but it makes me feel better, but.” Willie continued to tap his foot. “Gonnie quit it!” Eric started to loose the rag. “Or whit?” Willie glared at Eric.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Just then the lift shuddered to a halt and they are plunged into darkness. “Aaw shit!” They both cry. “Whit did y dae?” Eric shouted. “Ah didnie dae nuthin.” “Y must’ve touched summit.” “Ah telt y Ah didnie dae nuthin, hud yir wheesht it’ll get goan soon.” “It’d better, ma wife’s cookin us a meal.” “Aye so y said.” Suddenly the lights came back on. “See telt y.” Willie lorded it over Eric. The lights may be on, but the lift still wasn’t moving. “Wir no movin.” Eric moans. “Ah kind of noticed.” “How come wir no movin?” “How the hell should Ah know?” Willie barked “Whit dae Ah look like, Einstein?” Eric took a few steps back, pushing himself against the lift wall. “Look, Ah’m sorry, awright? Ah didnie mean tae loose ma temper, its jist this party y’know, Ah’m really lookin forward tae it, an Ah don’t wantae miss any of it.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Ah know whit y mean. Ah’m the same wi ma wife’s cookin.” “Look will y shut the fuck up aboot yir wife’s cookin!” Willie screamed. “Ah wis only sayin.” “Aye well don’t.” “Thir’s no need tae bite ma heed aff.” Eric sulked. “Ah’m sorry, its jist that Ah don’t like small spaces.” “Thir’s a word fir that aint thir?” “Aye bloody mad.” “Naw, begins wi a C.” “Kleptomaniac?” “Naw, that’s somewan who steals stuff.” “Christ Ah know a few of them.” “Claustrophobic.” “Eh?” “Y’re claustrophobic.” Eric declared. “Whit’s that when it’s at hame?” “The fear of confined spaces. Ah used tae know a guy suffered fae it, but he cured himself.” “Oh aye, how’d he dae tha?” “Threw himself aff the top of a block of flats.” “Christ! Bit extreme is it no?” Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Aye well Ronnie wisnie exactly the sharpest tool in the box, if y know whit Ah mean.” “Ah wish they’d get a shift oan.” “Huv y pressed the emergency bell?” “Naw, d’y think Ah should?” “Well they willnie know wir stuck unless y press it.” “S’pose y’re right.” Willie pressed the button. Nothing seemed to happen. “Vandals probably bust it.” Eric shook his head. “Y mean nubdy’ll know wir stuck?” “Could be days before they find us.” “Fuck that.” Willie started beating the lift door “HELP! HELP! Wir stuck in the lift!” Nothing happened. “Feel better?” “Least Ah’m daen summit.” “Thir’s daen summit and then thir’s daen summit.” “Whit exactly does that mean?” “Well Ah could be like you an screamin ma lungs out, using up aw the air, but then again Ah could jist sit back, conserve ma energy an wait fir somewan tae come an get us.” “Whit dae y mean usin up the air?”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Well its jist a small space an thir’s two of us, the maths isnie that hard.” “Aaw ta much fir makin us feel better.” “Ah wis only sayin.” “That’s aw y ever seem tae dae.” “C’moan mate, we could be here fir a long time, dae y no think y could at least try an make the effort tae get along?” “S’pose.” Willie absently taps the buttons, but nothing happened. “Shall we start at the beginin?” “Eh?” “Ma name’s Eric.” He held out his hand. “Willie.” He shook Eric’s hand. “So this party?” “Aye?” “Who’s it fir?” “Ma mate Bill, he’s emigratin tae Oz in a few weeks, an this is his last birthday before he goes.” “So y’re givin him a big send off?” “Aye sort of.” Willie rummaged about in his bag and pulled out a couple of cans “Want wan?” “Aye, why no.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Willie threw Eric a can and they both crack them open. “Might as well make the maest of it, eh?” “Here’s tae y.” “Cheers.” They both take long satisfying slugs from their cans. “That hit the spot.” Willie gasped. “Better chilled though.” “Y reckon?” “Oh aye, see the best pint Ah ever hud?” Eric wiped froth away from his mouth “Dublin.” “Dublin?” “Aye, me an some pals went tae Dublin, best pint o Guinness Ah’ve ever hud. Sheer heaven.” “Euch.” Willie screwed up his face “Ah cannie drink Guinness. Give’s us the shits.” “Y don’t know whit y’re missin mate.” “Aye Ah dae, a night drivin the big porcelain bus.” “Eh?” “Bein sick doon the pan.” “Oh God, dae t huv tae?” Willie laughed at Eric’s squeamishness.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx The lift suddenly jerked and swayed. It then dropped a couple of feet. “Aaw fuck!” Willie grabbed tightly onto the sides of the lift. “S’awright mate.” Eric tried to calm him “Its jist the slack bein taken up by the cables.” “Y sure?” “Ah dunno, Ah don’t know anyhin about lifts, but it sounded good eh?” “Y daft bastard.” Willie laughed in spite of himself. “See it worked.” Eric smiled. Willie relaxed and slid to the floor. “Christ. Ah nearly shat maself.” “Ah thought thir wis a funny smell.” “Ah’m no kiddin.” Willie wiped the sweat from his forehead “Ma nerves are fuckin red raw.” “How long y been claustrophobic?” “Dunno. S’pose since Ah wis a kid.” “How come?” “A pal of mine used tae play wi us oan this rubbish tip near where we lived. Used tae be aw sorts oan it, bits of old cars, cookers, sofas, tellys, broken toys and these massive old fridges. Anyway, me an ma pal used tae dare each other tae see how long we could stay inside these fridges. Wan of us wid climb inside, the

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gã|áàxw _Éäx other wid sit oan the lid countin. The damn things wir pitch black. It widnie take long before y wir kickin an screamin an then y wir tae jump off the lid an open it up. The record wis forty five seconds or summit. Well this one time Ah climbed inside an ma pal closed the lid, it wis so dark Ah couldnie even see ma hands in front of ma face. Ah wis determined tae beat the record, Ah’d convinced maself Ah could dae it. Anyway, Ah’d no idea how long Ah’d been inside, but Ah wanted out bad. Ah kicked, Ah screamed, Ah battered the lid wi ma fists until Ah could feel the blood runnin doon ma arms, but still the lid widnie open. Turns out ma mate, fir a joke, hud put a pile of bricks oan the lid an buggered off. If it hudnie been fir an old man walkin his dug Ah’d still be in there the day.” “Christ awmighty! That must’ve been bloody terrifyin.” Eric shook his head in astonishment “So whit happened tae yir mate?” “Oh he married ma sister.” “Aah forgiveness is a wonderful thing.” “Ah never said Ah’d forgiven him, he jist married ma sister. Ah huvnie spoken tae him fir over twenty years.” Eric took another swig from his can so he wouldn’t put his foot in it. Willie stood up and started pacing backwards and forwards. “Y’ll wear a hole in the flaer daen that.” “Eh?” “Aw that pacing.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “It helps me think.” “Whit dae y wantae think fir?” “Duh! How tae get out of here of course. Jesus Eric, anywan wid think y wanted tae stay in here.” “Aye well.” Eric hung his head and stared at his feet. “But Eric, yir wife’s cookin y a meal, y said y loved hur cookin.” “Ah dae, but.” “C’moan Eric, y kin tell me. Its no as if wir goan anywhere.” “Its ma son, John.” “Y no get oan?” “Naw, we get oan fine.” “Then whit’s the problem?” “He’s goat leukaemia.” “Christ.” Willie didn’t know where to look or what to say “Ah’m sorry.” “Thanks.” “So how long y known?” “Bout four months. He kept complainin he was short of breath and feelin tired aw the time. We, that’s the wife an me, thought he wis kiddin us oan, tryin tae get out of sports or summit. We never did anyhin about it, then we goat a call fae his school. He’d collapsed in wan of the classes and wis taken tae hospital. Y should huv seen him, lyin oan that bed, tubes and wires stickin everywhere. Aw these Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx machines. He looked terrible. The doctors telt us whit wis whit, but Ah couldnie take it in. He wis ma boy. The wife blames us, says it’s aw ma fault, should’ve listened tae him, then mibbee we could’ve done summit. Doctors telt us it widnie huv mattered, but Ah think they wir only tryin tae make us feel better.” “Is there anyhin they kin dae fir him?” “Needs a bone marrow transplant, neither the wife or me are a match. He’s goat a rare blood group. Caused by ma side of the family.” Eric laughed bitterly “Anur thing the wife blames us fir.” “C’moan man, y cannie blame yirself fir that, Ah mean thir’s bound tae be sumbdy sumwhere.” “Aye that’s whit the doctors telt us. He’s oan a waitin list an aw that, but he’s runnin out of time.” “Christ man, an Ah thought Ah hud problems.” “Kinda puts things in perspective dunit.” “Ah dunno whit Ah’d dae if summit like that happened tae me.” Willie shook his head in disbelief. “Y jist grin an bear it, try an carry oan as normal y’know.” Eric shrugged. “Y’re a fuckin saint Eric. Y know that, a fuckin saint.” “Tell that tae ma wife.” Eric laughed. “Y deserve anur drink.” Willie reached into his bag and tossed Eric a can. “Ta.” Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Think nuthin of it.” They both sat in silence on the floor of the lift, sipping slowly from their cans; both of them lost in their own thoughts. “Did y hear summit?” Willie stopped mid drink. “No, whit?” They both strained to hear. Then they heard it. A clanking noise and a muffled sound that could have been voices. “Thir’s sumbdy there!” Willie cried “HELLO! HELLO! Wir in here!” There was a muffled sound that could have been a reply. “See Ah telt y.” Willie grinned emphatically at Eric. “Y’re right.” Eric started banging on the lift door “HELLO! HELLO!” The noises became clearer and more distinct. They were definitely voices. “Hello?” A voice shouted from outside. “HELLO!” Willie and Eric both shouted together. “Are y awright?” “Aye wir fine.” Willie shouted “Jist get us out of here.” “The firebrigade are oan thir way, sumbdy hud reported hearin voices in the lift.” “Aye that’d be us.” Eric grinned from ear to ear. “So whit y daen in there?” The voice asked. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Havin a game of fitba, whit dae y think wir daen?” “How long y been in there?” “Christ knows, whit time is it?” Eric shouted at the door. “Ah dunno Ah huvnie goat a watch.” “Shit, Ah bet Ah’ve missed half the party.” Willie kicked an empty can, which rattled and banged about the lift. “Whit wis tha?” The voice sounded panicky. “Nuhin.” “Hang oan mate, here’s the firemen.” Willie and Eric can hear a loud commotion behind the door. “Hello.” Another voice shouts through the door “Ah’m a fireman, we’ll huv y out in no time.” “Bout time.” “How many of you are there?” “Jist the two.” “Is anywan injured?” “Naw, wir fine.” “We’ll huv y out in no time, jist stand away fae the door.” “Stand away fae the door? Whit does he mean stand away fae the door?” Willie demands.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Eric shrugged, but suddenly his question is answered as the door shuddered with an almighty bang. Willie and Eric are nearly knocked from their feet. “Whoa, wait a minute.” Willie staggers to regain his footing “Whit the fuck wis tha?” “Sorry gentlemen.” The fireman shouted “One of our men here dropped the machine. Ah apologise if it caused any problems.” “Problems he says, Ah nearly shat maself.” Willie seemed to be getting more and more agitated, even though his rescue appeared close at hand. “Its awright Willie, we’ll soon be out.” Eric tried to calm him, and right enough the lift door creaked open slightly allowing a thin sliver of bright light into the lift. “Its open! The door’s open!” Willie cried, but that was the least of his worries as he could see that they were stuck between floors. As the doors were slowly inched open they could see that only a small portion of the floor could be seen at the top of the lift. The fireman’s face appeared at the gap above them “Awright?” “Been better.” “Look, Ah’m afraid this is the best we kin dae. We cannie budge the lift. The engineer went on holiday yesterday.” “Typical.” Willie grumbled “Ah knew it’d be too easy fir them tae jist open the door and us walk straight out.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “It’s awright, we’ll think of summit.” The fireman tried to reassure them. “Whit time is it?” Eric asked the fireman. “Ten tae two in the mornin.” The fireman looked puzzled. “Yir party’s probably finished.” “Aye probably.” Willie sat back down on the floor, he looked thoroughly exhausted. “Look, how bout Ah give y a punty up?” “Eh?” “That gap. Y reckon y kin squeeze through it?” “Aye probably.” “Well come ere then, Ah’ll gie y a punty up an y kin climb through.” “But whit about you?” “Y kin pull us through aftir y.” “Awright then.” Willie pulled himself to his feet and Eric got into position. His back braced against the wall, his knees bent and his hands cupped in front of him. Willie came forward and placed his foot in Eric’s hands. He launched himself towards the gap. Eric puffed and panted, his face turned red with the strain. Willie reached for the gap; the fireman grabbed hold of him and heaved him out.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “Freedom!” Willie shouted at the top of his voice and is slapped on the back and loudly greeted by all the firemen. A round of applause startled Willie as for the first time he noticed the crowd that had gathered round the lift. He bowed theatrically as they gave him another round of applause. “Huw! Whit about me?” Eric shouted. Willie had forgotten all about him. He quickly moved back to the lift and stuck his head back inside the gap. “Hud oan tae ma honds.” “Are y sure Ah’ll fit?” “Aye nae probs.” Eric reached up and grabbed Willie’s arms. The fireman also leaned in and grabbed Eric. “Christ y weigh a ton.” “Ah’ll go oan a diet when Ah’m out.” They pulled Eric up, his head and arms were out, but his stomach was stuck. “Breath in.” “Ah am breathin in.” The fireman and Willie groaned and strained, but still Eric wouldn’t budge. “Its no use mate.” The fireman grunted “Wir gonnie huv tae use the cutters.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “No bloody fear.” Panic filled Eric’s face as he started kicking and wriggling, slowly working himself free. “That’s it wir nearly there.” Eric wriggled some more and suddenly he broke free, sending all three of them sprawling. Willie could have sworn he heard a pop as Eric came loose. The crowd applauded again. Eric and Willie are slapped on the back like heroes. The firemen left, another call, something about a cat and a tree. The crowd, realising there is nothing more to see broke up, leaving Eric and Willie on their own. “Y never did tell us why yir wife wis cookin y a special meal.” “A celebration.” “Oh aye, good news Ah hope?” “She thought so.” “An you didnie?” “Our divorce came through this mornin, thirty years doon the pan jist like tha.” Tears welled up in Eric’s eyes. “Ah know whit’ll cheer y up.” “Oh aye?” “Fancy a bag of chips, thir’s a late night chippie open roon the corner.” “Aye why no.” Eric smiled. “Aye.” Willie grinned “We kin celebrate our freedom.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx

THE FIRST TIME

“Am I boring?” The words came out of nowhere, leaving an awkward silence in their wake. Caroline looked across at Dave and screwed her face up. “Well?” Dave persisted. “Do you really want me to answer that?” She looked down at her toenails, which she was in the middle of painting a deep blue almost black colour. “Yes.” Dave muttered hesitantly, the beginnings of doubt creeping into his voice. “Where should I start?” Caroline was preparing to milk this for all its worth. Dave swallowed deeply. “For a start you have all your CD’s in alphabetical order, and you have too many football shirts for a grown man.” Caroline was just getting started “See that chair. It’s the same shape as your backside; it’s too uncomfortable for anybody else to sit in. Then there’s the bathroom. When are you going to finish it? You started it two years ago.” “Well I...” Dave tried to interrupt, but Caroline was in full flow. “Then there’s your video collection.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “They’re classics.” Dave protested. Caroline tried her best not to laugh. “What?” Dave was offended “Some of them are very rare?” “If you say so.” Caroline went back to painting her toenails, returning the room to silence. “So am I?” “Shit!” Caroline slipped the brush up her toe, painting a blue line across her foot “Aaw look what you made me do.” Caroline went through what looked like a surgical procedure in an attempt to clean her toe. Dave did not dare interfere; all that stuff was beyond him anyway. He could not understand why she did it. It was not as if it made any difference to him. Then a worrying thought entered his head; maybe she was not doing it for his benefit. “Why do you do that?” “Mmmm?” Caroline was concentrating hard. “Your toes?” “Eh?” “Why’d you paint your toes?” “Cos I can.” Caroline looked at him as if he was mad. “Oh right.” Dave was none the wiser. He let the matter drop and picked up a magazine and started absently flicking through the pages. “Anything decent on the telly?”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Dave quickly flicked to the Tv pages and looked down the listings. He dare not tell her there was a decorating programme on, he could remember all too vividly what had happened the last time she had seen one of them. The remnance of that little disaster still littered the hall. There was an animal programme of some sort, but they usually made her soppy. There was a film on channel four, but she’d never let him watch it. The only other option was a hospital drama, which would keep her quiet for a while. “Nothing much.” Was his carefully considered reply. “Here give us a look.” She reached across and snatched the magazine from his grasp “Aaw you didn’t tell me General Hospital was on.” The telly was quickly switched on and Caroline made herself comfortable, making sure that her toenails were well out of reach of anything that might damage her painstaking work. The telly was showing lots of people running about in white coats and plenty of blood. Caroline sat transfixed by the whole thing. Dave was convinced he had seen the whole thing before, but he dare not say anything to Caroline, he may be stupid but he certainly was not brave. The end credits rolled and Caroline sighed, as if sad that her fix of hospital drama was over. “See that Dr Richardson, he’s a dish.” “Oh aye?”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “You know what I mean.” Caroline suddenly realised it was Dave she was talking to and tried to rescue the situation. “You realised if I said something like that you’d call me a sexist pig and I’d never hear the end of it.” “Aye well this is different.” Caroline tried to defend herself. “How?” “Aint you the one that said you fancied nurse Sarah and that druggie in last weeks episode.” “I said I admired her bedside manner and the druggie as you so kindly put it reminded me of you.” “Oh thanks.” “I mean she had the same eyes as you and the way she laughed.” Dave realised why it was always a bad idea to get into these sorts of arguments. He always ended up putting his foot in it. “So you saying I remind you of a druggie?” Caroline smiled to herself. She quiet enjoyed seeing Dave squirm. “No. No that’s not what I meant.” Dave always cursed his inability to come up with the right words. He had friends who could literally charm the pants off girls, but he failed miserably every time, usually making things worse. He could remember the first time he met Caroline. Boy what a night that was.

*****

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gã|áàxw _Éäx The rain was teaming down, bouncing high off the ground. Dave could hear it rattling noisily off the roof of the bus shelter he was standing under. In the distance he could see a young girl running through the rain towards the shelter, she wasn’t dressed for this weather, a short flower print dress and a denim jacket. Her handbag was raised above her head in a vain attempt to shield herself from the rain. As she ran one of her shoes broke and she nearly fell, Dave nearly ran out to help her but by the time he’d thought of doing that she was hobbling along curing under her breath. Finally she reached the shelter. She slumped down on the bench. Dave watched her out of the corner of his eye. She was soaked through, her hair matted to her head, her make up streaked down her face, but Dave thought she was beautiful. He wished he could talk to her, but he knew he’d get it wrong. Dave wasn’t sure but she looked like she’d been crying. It might just have been the rain though. She leaned down and took off her broken shoe; she turned the shoe over in her hands. She was definitely crying. “You all right?” The words seemed to come out of his mouth before he’d even thought them. Maybe he had just thought them; maybe he hadn’t said anything at all because she didn’t respond. She kept looking at her shoe, turning it over and over as if somewhere it was hiding some secret to a mystical question. Dave looked down at his feet; she made him feel nervous. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Then she looked at him. Dave couldn’t help himself, he must have been staring, but her eyes transfixed him. Deep dark brown, you could drown in eyes like those. She quickly looked back at her shoes. Dave had to say something; he couldn’t just stand in silence again, letting another chance slip through his fingers. Just one problem though. He didn’t know what to say, his brain had seized up, his mind was blank. He just stared at her, at her broken shoe. Then believe it or not he had a flash of inspiration; well it was more like a flicker than a flash. “They broken?” “Sorry?” She brushed a strand of sodden hair away from her face. “Your shoes, are they broken?” “Oh aye yeah.” She sighed. Dave had run out of things to say, his flicker of inspiration hadn’t reckoned on him getting this far. “That’s what I get for buying cheap shite in the sales.” She laughed. Dave’s heart missed a beat she was even more beautiful when she laughed. “Yeah.” Was all he could manage and even that half choked in his throat. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “You all right?” She asked. “Yeah fine.” The words tumbled out of his mouth. God she must think he’s an idiot. “Not the best of nights to be out.” “No.” Dave desperately scrabbled for something else to say “Forecast said it’d clear up.” “Mmmm.” She looked as if she was miles away. She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “You all right.” This time the words came out crystal clear. Tears welled up in her eyes. “Here.” Dave reached into his pocket and handed her his hankie. He was lucky it’d just been washed. “Thanks.” She wiped her eyes with the hankie “You’re very kind.” Despite himself Dave’s face turned beetroot and he stared down at his feet and shuffled nervously. This made her laugh again. He wasn’t sure if she was laughing at him or at something she’s thought, but he was pleased to see she was smiling. She pushed her long dark hair behind her ears and looked wistfully out at the rain, which was still bouncing off the ground. “Bad night was it?” “The worst. You wouldn’t believe it.” “Try me.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx She looked at Dave and reckoned he looked harmless enough. “It’s me and my boyfriend.” Dave’s heart sank at the mention of that word. “We had a fight. I think we broke up.” “You think?” “Well we’ve done it before, but this time I think it’s serious. I think he meant what he said.” She then went on to explain her entire relationship with her boyfriend, how they met, how long they’d been going out, how they rowed. She must have talked for hours, but it felt like minutes. “You’re a good listener.” “Thanks.” Before he knew what was happening Dave asked her out, and to his amazement she said yes.

*****

“You want to watch the film?” “Eh?” “The one on channel four, I know it’s the kind you like.” “You sure?” “Change over quick, before I change my mind.”

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Dave quickly grabbed the remote control and changed the channel. The titles were just finishing, but he didn’t mind. He usually liked to watch a film right from the very start, just to see if he could see any names that he recognised. It gave him a strange feeling of pride when he did so. It was his dream that one day he’d be up amongst those names, as what he didn’t know he just wanted to be up there. Caroline couldn’t understand all this fuss about films, she just liked them if they had a good story, but Dave always enthused about the camera angles, the lighting or the way it was edited. She couldn’t see any of this; a film was just a film to her. A way of telling a story. She often thought she had a story or two to tell. She could remember the first time she met Dave.

*****

The nightclub was crowded, large groups of people pushing against each other, sneaking a quick furtive feel if they could. She couldn’t complain she was already guilty of doing the same thing a couple of times earlier. Her boyfriend, Brian, had disappeared to the bar ages ago. She set off on search of him. She pushed her way through the crowd ignoring the leering faces and some of the worst chat up lines she’d ever heard.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx Eventually she caught sight of Brian chatting up a skinny blonde cow. She was going to kill him. She stormed up to them, not quiet sure what she was going to do, as she past the bar she picked up a half empty glass. As she approached, without saying a word, she threw the contents of the glass into Brian’s face. A group of guys cheered in appreciation. Brian coughed and spluttered, wiping his eyes. Caroline turned and calmly walked away. The skinny blonde cow just gawped open mouthed. “What the fuck was that for?” Brian grabbed her as she left the club. “If you don’t know then there’s no point.” Caroline continued to walk across the carpark. The skies above were darkening ominously. A nasty storm was brewing. “I’m talking to you!” Brian screamed like a spoiled child. “Go back to your tart.” Caroline didn’t even bother turning round. “She doesn’t mean anything to me.” He ran to catch up, walking backwards in front of her “We were just talking.” “You’re always just talking.” “C’mon Carrie. You know what I’m like.” He tried his beautiful winning smile.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx She hated it when he called her Carrie. The sad thing was she did know what he was like, and he’d do it again and again and again. “Fuck you Brian.” She walked right past him and kept o walking. “You’ll come back, you always do!” He shouted to her as she walked out of the carpark. Just as she turned the corner the heavens opened and the rain came thundering down. She was kind of glad it was raining as the rain did a good job of hiding her tears. She raised her bag up over her head, she didn’t really know why she did it she was soaked already it didn’t really matter. She could see the bus stop in the distance; one lonely figure was already waiting. She decided what the heck and started to run for the shelter. After only a couple of strides her left foot gave way under her. “Shit!” She cried out and scrabbled to regain her balance. She looked down at her shoe; the heel had broken right off. She’d only bought them yesterday. “Shit.” She took the shoe off and hobbled the rest of the way to the shelter. Not giving a damn how wet she got. She slumped down on the bench and stared at her broken shoe. She could see this guy out of the corner of her eye. She felt a bit miffed that he hadn’t helped her, after all she was a lady in distress. Mind you she probably wouldn’t have bothered either. God, she must look a right state.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx She brushed her hair back behind her ears, she thought of Brian, probably back at the club talking to that skinny blonde cow. She could feel tears welling up, she sniffed and wiped her nose. The guy standing next to her sounded as if he made some sort of noise, she couldn’t be sure, maybe he was trying to communicate. She wanted to talk to somebody. She needed to talk to somebody. She had things she wanted to say, things she had to talk about, to get them off her chest. “You all right?” The guy mumbled. It surprised her at first, he had such a soft voice, it sounded as if he cared. She muttered something about her shoes, she couldn’t remember what. Next thing she knew he handed her a hankie. She must’ve looked awful. She took the hankie and wiped her eyes, she hadn’t realised until now but she must’ve still been crying. “Not a nice night to be out.” “I’ve had better.” Things went silent; he seemed to have run out of things to say. She looked back at her broken shoe. She wiped her eyes with the hankie again, then she tried to hand it back. “S’alright, you keep it.” She smiled and stuffed the hankie in her pocket. “You all right now?” “No lasting scars.” She smiled. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “You’ve got a lovely smile.” She could feel herself blush; it’d been a long time since anyone had said anything like that to her. In fact, she couldn’t remember Brian ever saying anything like that. “Thanks, eh?” “Dave.” “Caroline.” She smiled. “See everything’s better when you smile. What you got to cry about anyway, things can’t be that bad?” “Had a fight with my boyfriend.” She looked down at the ground “Or should I say ex-boyfriend.” “That bad?” Caroline nodded. “Don’t worry you’ll make it up.” “Don’t think I want to.” Dave sort of nodded to himself, but said nothing. “It’s not as if I don’t know what he’s like, I mean we’ve been going out for five years. At least I think its five years, it could be four, it feels longer, anyway.” The words just spilled out, she didn’t know who this guy was she just felt the urge to tell him everything. She didn’t even care if he wasn’t listening. It didn’t seem to matter. He nodded at the right moments and that was enough. The rain still thudded down, rattling on the shelter roof. A thought suddenly entered her head; the busses had stopped hours ago. Independentbook

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “The next bus won’t be for hours.” She said to no one inparticular. “Eh?” “The last bus was ages ago.” “Oh right.” He started to look lost “I don’t usually get the bus, its just the train’s weren’t running ‘cos of the weather.” “What are we like?” She laughed. “A right pair.” He joined in despite himself. “Look I’m sorry I’ve bored you with all that stuff earlier, I’d no right to burden you with all that.” “Don’t worry about it, it’s all right.” “You know something?” “What?” “You’re a good listener.” “Thanks.” He beamed “Maybe we could do it again sometime?” The question caught her a bit off guard, but without even thinking she said yes.

*****

The end credits of the film rolled up the screen. Dave stretched and yawned.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx “So what’d you think?” “Eh?” Caroline was still miles away. “The film, whataya reckon?” “Was all right.” She lied as convincingly as she could manage, she had probably only watched about twenty minutes of the film, the rest of the time she’d been elsewhere. “Did you see the bit where he came into the room and the hitman was waiting for him. Man I’dve jumped a mile as well. Classic.” Dave continued raving about the film. Caroline did her usual and switched off. She watched him as he thrashed his arms about as he talked; she was amazed at how passionate he was about things yet so cold about others. She’d watched all the vet programmes on telly and go through emotional turmoil. He’d just sit there and proclaim dispassionately that “They’re only animals.” Yet give him a film or a piece of art as he’d call some of them, if it was a good one he’d talk for hours singing its praises. If someone hadn’t seen the film he’d practically describe it scene by scene. If it was a bad one though he’d be even worse. In mid stream he stood up. “Want a coffee?” She absently nodded. She could still hear him muttering on in the kitchen, a constant flow of words, none of which she listened to.

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gã|áàxw _Éäx The kettle clicked off as the water boiled, still his stream of words floated out of the kitchen. She could hear the teaspoon clinking as he stirred the coffee. Caroline noticed that he’d stopped talking, another one of his foibles, the coffee always had to be just right, not too strong not too weak. He came back in, his face beaming, a steaming mug of coffee in each hand. He set them down carefully. “Thanks.” “Anytime.” He clasped his mug in his hands. She sipped cautiously from the mug; it was still too hot and burned her lip. She winced. “Coffee all right?” He noticed her screwed up face and worried that his coffee wasn’t up to scratch. “Yeah its fine.” They sat in silence for a while; each of them lost in their own thoughts. “You never answered my question.” Dave broke the silence. “Eh?” “Am I boring?”

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