by Drew Black
Maggie hesitated for a few seconds. Shit, bloody men, she thought. She opened the door and leant over the balcony; "Tom." she called out.
Tom looked back up the stairwell, Maggie's voice had a slight echo to it which made it sound distant. "Yeah, what is it?" he said craning his neck.
"Listen, come back up, I'll get rid of Julian, he won't mind."
"Are you sure?" Tom said concealing a smile.
"Yes, I'm sure." Maggie said disappearing back over the balcony.
Tom nodded at the guy with the sissy name as he got ready to leave. He poured himself a scotch and sat down on the sofa.
"Okay, I'll give you a call at the weekend." Maggie said giving Julian a peck on the cheek.
"Okay, remember what I told you. Take care, and I'll speak to you soon." Julian said buttoning up his tweed overcoat.
Tom resisted the urge to mimic sissy-boy and instead took another gulp of his scotch. His head was beginning to clear.
Julian returned Maggie's peck on the cheek; "Goodbye." he said in Tom's direction.
Tom raised a hand, "See you now." he said without looking over.
Maggie brushed her hair back with both hands, "Do you want a coffee with that?" she asked nodding at his glass of scotch.
Tom shook his head, "No, I'm fine thanks."
Maggie went into the kitchen and put the kettle on. He didn't look well, she thought, mind you, who would on the amount of alcohol he'd been consuming lately. God how the hell was she going to get herself out of this mess. She really liked Tom, she couldn't deny that, but he was never going to leave his wife, and if she was honest, she didn't want him to, she wasn't ready for settling down. It had all been such good fun at the start, but now it was becoming a chore. He was right, he had become just another work duty. That realisation brought a sharp pang of guilt with it, what a horrible thing to think, she thought, but he'd seemed so different back then; the handsome boss who was going places, but the only place he was heading now, with any certainty, was de-tox. She couldn't help liking him though, she smiled, maybe they could remain friends. Somehow Maggie, I think you should start getting the evening paper again, she told herself as the kettle started to boil.
"You okay then?" Maggie asked putting her cup down on the coffee table and sitting down in the chair off to Tom's right.
"Yeah, I'm fine." Tom said rubbing his eyes, "What did Julian mean when he said; 'remember what I told you?"
Maggie shook her head; "I don't know what you're talking about?"
"Listen Maggie, he said a sum total of nine words whilst I was sitting here, five of which were 'remember what I told you' As if he was warning you about something or someone."
Maggie shook her head again but this time more vigorously. She scrunched up her face, "Tom, what's gotten into you, we never even discussed you, all evening. Now, I'm sorry if that comes as a shock to your ego, but that's just the way it was, and as for warning me off people, I've been making my own decisions since I was fourteen, and that's the way it's going to stay, alright?"
Tom nodded cradling his drink, "I'm sorry, it's just been one of those days, that's all, I'll make it up to you." he said glancing up at her.
"Well actually Tom, that's why I asked you back up here for ..."
Tom looked at her again, but this time he didn't look away. Maggie went and turned the gas fire up a notch, suddenly it felt very chilly in the room she thought. "I think we should cool things for a while."
Tom's eyes widened.
"It would give us both a chance to have some breathing space."
"What are you saying Maggie, that you want to finish it?"
"No, I'm not saying that, I just said I think that I, we could do with some breathing space, that's all."
"Great, so that's how I make you feel is it, as though you can't breathe?"
"No, you know what I mean Tom; it's always at your convenience, whenever you feel like a shag, or whenever you need someone to talk to, it's never about what I want. What do you expect me to do; stop in and wait for you to ring or wait up just on the off chance you're going to come around." Maggie began to cry although it was due more to tiredness than anything else.
Tom went to comfort her, but she pushed him away. "Maggie, I really thought we had something special, honestly I did."
Maggie shook her head, "You just can't see it can you?"
"See what?" Tom said holding out his hands.
Maggie laughed through her tears before drying them with a tissue. She blew her nose. "You're killing yourself Tom, with that stuff." she said pointing to the scotch bottle.
“What do you mean? Yes, I like a drink as much as the next man, but it's all under control."
"You're just kidding yourself Tom; I spend more on that stuff than I do on the food bill."
"Oh, I see." Tom said getting to his feet, "That's it' is it? I wondered when it would come around to money. I've always paid my way whilst I've been here Maggie, and you can't say otherwise--"
"I'm not talking about money." Maggie interrupted.
Tom sat down again and leant forwards, "Oh, I think that's exactly what you're talking about. I'm surprised you've never charged me for sex, or did you just chalk that up as a good career move?"
Maggie’s mouth opened, but no words came out, Tom had shocked her into silence.
Tom realised that he'd gone too far, but it was too late, the damage had been done.
Maggie walked over and slapped him in the face with such force that he fell back against the sofa. "You bastard!" she screamed, "Get out now, and never come back, and as for your job, you can shove it, how's that for a good career move?"
"Please Maggie, just listen to me." Tom pleaded, "You know I didn't mean that. I'll admit, I'm pissed, but I would never do anything to upset you Maggie, I was just mad, that's all."
Maggie nodded, "Listen to me Tom, I'm twenty. I'm not prepared for all of this, I think you'd better go now, and let's just call it quits."
Tom nodded; "Okay, if that's what you want?"
"Yes, it is."
"I want you still to work at the club though."
"No, I think it's better, after all this, to just make a clean break of it." Maggie said raising her hands.
"I really don't want you to leave Maggie, but if that's what you want but at least wait until you find another job. I'll stay out of your way, I promise, besides, the way things are going, I don't think I'll be in there much this next couple of weeks anyway."
Maggie paused, "Okay," she said finally, "I'll work my notice."
Tom nodded; "I'll see myself out, and I'm truly sorry for what I said, I didn't mean it." Tom closed the door behind him.
Maggie waited a few moments before going over and locking it.
5
Tom arrived at Jack and Jane's house at eleven thirty pm. He pressed the intercom button which was inlaid into one of the concrete pillars of the twelve feet high wrought iron gates. Fortunately, for Tom Jack was still up, although Jane had long since gone to bed.
Who the fuck is this calling at this time? Jack thought taking a bite of his sandwich and walking over to the intercom phone. He lifted the receiver and said, "Hello, who's calling?" in a muffled tone.
"Jack, are you there, mate?" Tom asked swaying on his feet.
"Tom, is that you?"
"No, it's little red fuckin' riding hood. Who do you think it is?"
Jack shook his head, "I'll open the gates and let you in." he said.
"What a jolly good idea." Tom said to himself before hiccupping and being sick down his coat and trousers. Tom inspected the damage, but the alcohol had severed the link from his eyes to his brain. He knew that something wasn't quite right, but for the life of him he couldn't think just what. The gates opened and Tom lurched his way up the driveway. That was it, he'd just puked all over himself, he knew it would come to him eventually. Jack stood at his front door looking on in disbelief as Tom's shambling figure came towards him.
Once inside Jack ran Tom a ho
t bath, keeping him in site at all times. Tom started to garble, he was swaying on his feet, Jack sat him down on the toilet seat.
"No, Tom be quiet for a second. Is Helen okay? Jack asked
Tom nodded.
"Is she expecting you home tonight?
Tom shook his head, "The club, I'm staying at the flat at the club tonight."
"Right that's fine." Jack said walking to the far end of the bathroom and removing a hand towel from the linen cupboard, he returned and wiped Tom's face, shirt, and trousers with it; "Your sister's going to love you." he said.
Tom just stared down at the carpet, "I shouldn't've said what I did, I shouldn't've even gone there." he mumbled.
"Gone where?" Jack asked as the bath water gushed. The bathroom windows threw back frosted blackness.
Tom waved a hand, "it doesn't matter, nothing matters anymore." he slurred.
"Come on Tom, let's get your shirt off. Listen Tom, no-one's been hurt, have they?
Tom looked at Jack with dull eyes, "Only me Jack, but do you know what." he said pointing and leaning forward ...
God, he reeked, Jack thought, but he didn't pull away, instead he squatted so they were both on the same level.
"I don't give a fuck." Tom said laughing, and Jack was treated to even more fumes.
Jack put Tom to bed downstairs in one of the easy chairs. He was afraid if he laid him down, he would be in danger of choking on his own vomit. Finally, at twenty past one Jack made it to bed himself. He'd got to get him away from here Jack thought as he lay next to Jane staring up at the ceiling, no matter what it took. Neville would have to take over. He didn't like leaving the two Dave’s to their own devices, he was sure they were plotting something, but he had no other choice because if Tom carried on the way he was, he was going to end up dead and the rate at which he was declining made Tom think that day was going to come sooner rather than later. No, he had to take decisive action, if he was being honest with himself, he'd been ignoring the problem for far too long, just hoping that it would eventually go away.
Jack had a restless night's sleep, his mind just wouldn't slow down no matter how much he coaxed it too, downstairs Tom slept like a baby.
6
Jack was up early the next morning, he had things to organise. He rang Gerald and told him of his plans, both versions; the official and unofficial. He awoke Jane and gave her a brief outline of the previous evening's events and persuaded her to stay in bed until they had left. Jane protested but Jack managed to talk her round. He just wanted to get Tom away from here as quickly as possible. Tom was obviously on the verge of some kind of breakdown, and Jack did not want anyone else to witness it when it happened. Jane had wanted to ring Helen, but Jack had stopped her from doing so by promising her that he would ring Helen himself, later that day.
Jack's black Jaguar cruised along the motorway at a steady seventy miles per hour. This was the life, he thought. He and Tom should've done this years ago. Tom snoozed as the Jag cut through the open countryside. It was a pleasant September day, and fields slid by on either side of them - green ones, ploughed ones, bright yellow ones. The feeling of the Jag hugging the road, and the smell of the country air made Jack feel alive. Right, he thought, where the hell are we going? He was tempted to head for the Lake District where he'd recuperated after the death of his parents and brothers, but somehow that just didn't feel right. Blackpool would be too busy right now. Besides, you never got through a trip there without bumping into someone you knew. Fleetwood, he'd never been there. Yes, he thought we'll give Fleetwood a whirl.
Jack caught a glimpse of sea off to his left and felt a tinge of excitement as he observed light dancing on the water’s surface. He drove up the town's high-street and was surprised to find it was quite busy. He'd always thought of Fleetwood as a sleepy little fishing village whose only claim to fame was being the home of the fisherman's friend. He smiled as he observed two boys skipping down the street, a group of women chatting at a bus stop, and a butcher stood in his doorway. The traffic moved on and Jack took a left turn which was signposted; 'to the beach'. He drove up and down the promenade several times taking in the view whilst also looking for somewhere to stay. Go on he thought, we'll push the boat out, indicating to turn into the car park of the Silver Orchid.
Just then Tom came to, "Where the fuck are we?" he asked yawning and stretching out his arms.
"Fleetwood my friend, we're in sunny Fleetwood."
"Fleetwood!" Tom exclaimed, "What the fuck are we doing in Fleetwood?"
"Hello?" Jack said waving a hand in front of Tom's face, "Remember this morning when I said that we were going to get away for a while."
"Yeah, of course I remember." Tom replied with a frown.
"Well, this is it, we've arrived."
Tom stared incredulously at Jack, "You've flipped mate," he said; "nobody goes to Fleetwood, not under the age of seventy, anyway."
Jack smiled, "Come on," he said, "let's get out, my ass feels like it died an hour ago."
"Fuckin' Fleetwood." Tom mumbled as he got out of the car.
"Will you be requiring two rooms gentlemen?" the concierge asked looking from Jack to Tom and then back again.
"No, one'll be fine, two single beds though." Jack replied.
"Two single beds." the concierge repeated, running a gloved figure down a list in front of him.
"Sea view as well." Jack added.
"Room 528; sea view, twin beds, lounge plus ensuite bathroom."
"That sounds great." Jack said.
The concierge turned to get the key.
"That sounds great." Tom lip-synched.
Jack raised two fingers, and then pretended he was going to scratch his head when the concierge turned back to face them a little quicker than he’d anticipated.
"How long are you planning on staying with us sir."
"I'm not sure, two weeks perhaps."
Tom coughed loudly.
"Well let's say one to begin with." he amended.
"Very well sir, we do require a deposit mind."
Jack nodded, "How much is it?"
"Well, let's see; the room's three pounds each per night, seven nights, that's forty-two pounds, so let's say twenty pounds."
Jack took out his wallet, "We'll settle in full." he said.
The concierge raised an eyebrow.
Jack counted out four tens and a five onto the mahogany counter, "Keep the change." he said.
"Thank you, sir, you're most kind." the concierge replied. "James." he called out whilst snapping his fingers.
All of a sudden, out of nowhere, a porter appeared.
"We'll be fine, thanks James." jack said.
James nodded and returned to his post.
"The room is on the fifth-floor sir, the lift is fifty yards down on your left-hand side."
Jack nodded, "Thanks." he said picking up their case.
In the lift Tom said, "What the hell's got into you? A three quid tip from a bloke who asked a stripper for change from a ten-bob note."
Jack turned to look at Tom. "Smarmy fucker," he said, "so, it's normal practice to get twenty quid up front, in a place like this, is it?"
"You're becoming as paranoid as me matey." Tom replied. He was beginning to feel a little queasy.
"We could buy this joint ten times over, never mind not being able to afford the fuckin’ bill and kick his pompous ass out onto the pavement in the process. And by the way, stop telling that bloody story about the stripper every time I tip someone, I'm sure Jane actually believed it the first time she heard it. Oh shit, not in here Tom please--hold on."
The lift tinged for the fifth floor - 510, 516, 522, 528.
"In there, Tom, quick."
"Bwwaaa, bwwaaa, bwwaaa ... Bwwaaa!"
Jack flopped down on the sofa. Jesus Christ, he hoped and prayed he wasn't going to be in for a week of this. The toilet flushed and a couple of minutes later Tom emerged from the bathroom looking quite perky.
Jack looked at h
im feeling somewhat surprised. "You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine, is there a mini-bar in here?"
"No way Tom, you're having nothing today."
"Aw come on Jack, we are on holiday."
"No Tom, you can drink tomorrow if you want to, but promise me, nothing today, okay? Okay?"
Tom scrunched his face up and paced the room.
"Is that a yes? Answer me Tom."
"Oh alright, alright, if it makes you happy, I won't drink anything today, but it won't make the slightest bit of difference because come this time tomorrow, I'll be as pissed as a newt again."
Jack relaxed back on the sofa, it was a mulberry colour and matched the curtains. If he was honest, the room's decor was a bit depressing, too traditional for his taste, but then again, the room's decor was the least of his problems.
After they'd unpacked Jack and Tom took a walk on the promenade before popping into a fish restaurant. They both had fish, chips, and peas to eat in, and both ate their meals ravenously. Tom couldn't remember either the last time he'd felt so hungry or eaten so much. However, he realised one thing though; he felt a whole lot better for it.
On leaving the restaurant Tom said, "You're mad you are. You book us in to a five-star hotel, pay the lot up front, and then what do you go and do? Nip around the corner and eat at the local chippy."
"Home from home Tom. Are you feeling better?
"Yeah, I’m feeling okay, how long as it been?"
"Fourteen hours and twenty minutes." Jack replied checking his watch.
"Shit, it feels like a week." Tom said as they walked back up the promenade, the wind blowing in their faces.
"Mind you," Jack added, "You've only been conscious for three of those fourteen hours." On seeing Tom's expression Jack said, "Shit, I’m sorry mate that was a low blow. Look it's two o'clock in the afternoon, and you haven't touched a drop, when was the last time you could say that?"
Tom shrugged; "six, twelve months, I can't remember."
"Well there you are then, just focus on getting through the next hour, that's all."