Animal

by Paul Jones

  Will was content to hear that, and everybody began stretching and climbing stiffly to their feet. Charlie groaned as he clutched his aching back.

  ‘My effing back, is killing me.’

  Mike chimed in. ‘Too much doggy style that is.’

  ‘Well, you weren’t complaining about that last night boom, boom.’

  ‘OK, guys?’ Geoff addressed them all. ‘We’ve all got two whole weeks off now for the Christmas recess. We’ll start back training, the first Thursday in the New Year. But…’ Geoff crossed his fingers, ‘should anything crop up, any emergency, the twenty-four-hour-call out still applies.’

  Tom furtively rolled his eyes. ‘Great.’

  ‘OK then, so all of you have a good Christmas, don’t get too drunk and let’s hope that we don’t have to see each other’s ugly mugs until the New Year.’

  Everybody gave him a look for his cheek, then wished each other the best before departing.

  As Geoff drove Will back to his flat, Will asked if he could be dropped off at the Londis store as he needed to pick up some last minute items. Geoff did as he was asked, and pulled up outside the shop.

  ‘Listen, Will, if you don’t want to be by yourself on Christmas day you’re quite welcome to spend it with us. I mean it’s not going to be much fun moping around your flat all by yourself you know?’

  ‘Don’t worry Geoff, by the time I’ve had my run, showered and sorted myself out, the day will be almost gone anyhow.’

  Geoff reluctantly gave in. ‘OK, have a good one then?’ He reached across to shake Will’s hand. ‘Don’t forget if you change your mind, let us know.’

  ‘I will, cheers.’ Will said and shook it.

  Slinging the car door closed, Will made his way towards Londis and Geoff tooted him as he drove off.

  Later as he re-emerged from the store carrying his bits and pieces in a plastic bag, Will headed across the road towards his flat. As he did so, he noticed a short medium-built man in a duffel jacket standing outside seemingly waiting for someone. Will reached the other side of the road and the man approached him.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  Will stopped and eyed this dodgy-looking man with straight fair hair that curled up by his neck and ears like a badly fitted wig.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Does your name happen to be Will Thomas?’

  ‘It does.’

  The chap got right down to business. ‘And you’re seeing a woman at the moment called Stacey Williams?’

  The penny dropped and Will got his first look at Stacey’s ex. ‘Yes that’s right.’

  The chap nodded, agitated, his adrenalin surge already giving him away.

  ‘Well, my name is Peter Jackson and Stacey and I are more or less still an item. You think it’s OK to steal another man’s woman, do you?’

  Will tightened his grip on the plastic bag as if he was going to hit him with it.

  ‘Who’s stolen what exactly?’

  ‘You’ve stolen my woman.’ The man pointed a loaded finger at him, his mouth quivering at the corners.

  So far Stacey’s ex was living up to all Will’s expectations. Will looked him up and down and saw a short college bookworm with childlike manicured hands that probably couldn’t rip their way out of a paper bag.

  ‘Really?’ Will replied. ‘Well, from what Stacey tells me she broke up with you a long time ago, so what business is it of yours who she sees right now?’

  ‘Stacey has not broken up with me.’ The chap almost stomped his foot like a child throwing a tantrum.

  Will was on the verge of feeling compassion for him. ‘I think she has, mate, otherwise we’d have met each other a lot sooner.’

  The chap took that as a warning. ‘Oh yeah, and what’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Think about it, two’s company, three’s a crowd. And besides, Stacey and I were an item long before you ever came along. So it’s not as if she’s just jumped straight into the arms of someone else on the rebound. And as well as that, I came back for her because we already have a lot of history together. You only saw each other for six months.’

  ‘Seven,’ he corrected.

  ‘Seven, was it? I thought you said you hadn’t broken up?’

  The chap tried to back track. ‘Seven until you came along then.’

  Will smirked inwardly. ‘But apart from that, if Stacey had told me that she was happy in another relationship, I would have gladly put up my hands and left her alone. But she didn’t say that, so I haven’t actually stolen anything from anyone. You just need to accept that it’s over and move on mate.’

  Will hoped that that would end it, and he could continue indoors. But he was wrong.

  ‘Oh yes, Will Thomas, I know all about you alright.’ He said, and that made Will stop again.

  ‘Stacey told me all about you when we were together. Enjoy you time in prison did you?’

  This irritated Will. ‘No, actually, I didn’t! I served my time, paid the price and my debt to society has been settled. What’s it to you anyhow?’

  The chap gave him a drilling stare. ‘You’re just a no-good thug!’

  Had this incident occurred some three years ago, the old Will would have seized this annoying little parasite by the oesophagus and almost choked him to death. But that terrible fire no longer burned within him. What was once a raging inferno was now a cold, burnt-out furnace full of dead ashes.

  Seeing that his insults weren’t having much effect on Will, the chap pushed his luck even more. ‘Yeah, you’re just a thick headed animal scum.’

  Will laughed to himself he knew that no college bookworm like him would go to such lengths to pick a fight with some thug unless he had an ulterior motive. It was blatantly obvious to Will that this idiot was just trying to goad him into attacking so he could charge him for assault.

  ‘Really?’ Will replied and turned to walk up to his flat.

  The chap made a grab for Will’s arm, any other time that arm would be broken but Will wanted to see just how far he was willing to go.

  ‘Don’t you walk away from me,’ he blustered, eyes bulging and face white with fear.

  To Will’s trained eye, an attack was definitely imminent, yet he was still prepared to take one just to see if the chap had the guts to do it.

  Just to push him over the edge, Will muttered, go home, you’re mother’s calling you. Then he purposely turned his back.

  Whack, the chap Judas-punched him to the side of his right eye. The blow felt hollow as if he’d been hit by a woman’s empty handbag, Will spun around like a Spanish bull finding a terrier nipping at his leg. The chap stepped back as if he was expecting to get hit. But this particular bull didn’t charge. Instead, Will breathed in calmly through his nose, and uttered almost triumphantly, nice try arsehole, and coolly ambled up the steps to his flat.

  The chap watched amazed as Will disappeared indoors without a fight, then the reality of what he’d done begun to set in. He swung around, and walked off hands stuffed inside his duffel jacket pocket so no one could see them shaking as if he had a palsy.

  Back in his flat, Will slumped on to his couch, clutching a folded wet towel to his slightly swollen eye brow. He was neither angered nor saddened by the incident, he simply viewed it as part of the price he had to pay in order to keep Stacey.

  However, thinking about it, he was a bit cheesed-off that she had told her ex all those incriminating things about him. Tomorrow evening, he would be seeing Stacey one more time before she flitted off to relatives for Christmas, and Will wondered if he should mention all this. Removing the wet towel from his eye, he glanced over towards the bed at the box of Gucci shoes that were waiting to be wrapped.

  *

  Will and Stacey’s last night together was intended to be a simple cosy night-in, but whether or not that might be soured by what he had to tell her, remained to be seen?

  As Will greeted her at the door to his flat, Stacey’s face became a mas
k of concern.

  ‘What the hell happened to your eye?’ she gasped.

  Will told her to come in first, and she marched straight in carrying a plastic carrier bag.

  Will closed the door behind her, and she waited uneasily for answers.

  ‘I had a visit from your crazy ex,’ he told her as he went to sit on the arm of the couch.

  Stacey’s face blazed with rage. ‘And he did that?’

  Will nodded.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because he was trying to goad me into hitting him so he could get me done for assault and prove to you that I am still just a vicious thug. And then hopefully, you would feel sorry for him and give him another chance.’

  ‘And did you hit him back?’

  ‘No, I didn’t. I walked away from him.’

  Stacey was dumbstruck, but probably more so at the fact that Will hadn’t retaliated and put her ex in hospital. Somewhat relieved, she went over and checked his eye like a protective mother. The injury itself wasn’t that bad, only superficial, just a minor swelling under the brow, with a speck of red on the corner of the eye-lid. Stacey stood back with her head tottering.

  ‘I can’t believe he would do something so stupid.’

  Will stared back at her, remembering what her ex had said about him. ‘Why did you tell him that I went to prison and all that?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘He said you told him everything about me.’

  ‘I didn’t tell him everything, all I said during our relationship was that you had a bad temper which was what got you put away, that’s all. In fact I told you a hellava lot more about him than I ever said about you.’

  Will thought about it for a second, then decided to forget it, after all why the hell should he believe that little twerp? Changing the subject, he nodded towards the bag she was holding. ‘What’s in there?’

  She gave him a sulky smile. ‘I’ve brought you a Christmas present.’

  Will snorted in appreciation. ‘What is it?’

  ‘You’ll have to wait and see in a couple of days, won’t you?’ she said, placing the bag next to the window table out of sight for now.

  Will, couldn’t resist teasing her a bit. ‘I haven’t got you one, you know?’

  Stacey shrugged, as if she was pretending not to care. ‘That’s alright.’

  Will enjoyed knowing that if that was really true, she would never let him forget it for as long as he lived.

  ‘Yeah, of course I have. It’s in the kitchen in a bag, I had a bit of trouble wrapping it though. How the hell do you women cope when you have a massive family to wrap prezzies for?’

  ‘It’s a woman thing, a man wouldn’t understand,’ she replied, trying to get a sly peek in the kitchen.

  Settling down for the night, Will provided the drinks and they cosied-up on the couch to watch one of the Christmas films on the box. During the evening, Stacey began to lean on him, and rub her head affectionately on his arm, and it reminded him of old times. It felt so good to have her back in his life, back together in they’re own little world. It was like they were twins embryos safe in a protective womb. How he wished she could stay with him over Christmas. Stacey then groaned.

  ‘What’s up?’ Will asked.

  ‘I’ve got one more keep-fit session tomorrow before Christmas and I really can’t be bothered.’

  ‘Discipline.’ Will lectured.

  ‘It’s the last one and I bet Jenny the instructor, is really going to put us through the grinder.’

  ‘Can I pop by and watch all of your arses wobbling as you’re jumping up and down?’ Will teased her, and got an irate stab in the ribs in reply.

  At the end of the evening, back at Stacey’s hotel Will handed the Christmas present to her in a plastic carrier bag. Stacey thanked him for it, and promised she would ring him whenever she could. As Will nodded, she leant towards him, and kissed him softly on the lips, a peck that lingered for a couple of seconds, and gave away her strengthening feelings. But for some reason she broke off the kiss, and headed off up the steps to the front door. Will watched her and waited for one last goodnight. With her hand on the door handle, she turned to him.

  ‘Will I’m proud of you. Not hitting my ex showed a lot of spirit.’

  ‘So there is hope for me then?’

  Stacey smiled back and replied. ‘Yeah, I think there might be.’

  Then she disappeared indoors. Will smirked to himself, but as he left he began to dread the thought of returning to his flat without her.

  *

  ‘Reaching up… pulling on the rope…and down.’ The pretty, blonde female instructor, shouted to the rest of her class.

  Stacey, wearing her long, grey t-shirt and black leggings, pulled on that imaginary rope. Thirty more seconds of this and I am going to collapse, she thought.

  ‘Annnd… stop.’ The teacher called.

  The class of women, ranging from all ages, all swooned and thanked God it was all over until next year.

  ‘That’s it girls, well done. See you all in the second week in January. And as a reminder, if there’s anyone else still interested in the New Year’s charity run please let me know as soon as possible. Have a good Christmas and see you all in the New Year.’

  Although, everyone wished her same in return, Stacey and her class felt like telling their teacher what she could do with her charity run after putting them through all that torture.

  Almost crawling on her hands and knees, Stacey made it back to her backpack and whipped out a white towel to pat at the film of perspiration on her face.

  ‘Why the hell do we do it?’ One barrel-shaped woman turned to her.

  Stacey rolled her eyes back at her. ‘Strawberry cheesecake.’ She replied.

  ‘I blame Toppolina’s Pizza on Friday nights and Lorraine Kelly in the morning.’ Another pot-bellied woman chimed-in, and they all shared a little chuckle.

  Exiting the fitness centre Stacey was still nattering to the barrel-shaped woman when someone stood in front of them. It was Stacey’s ex; Peter Jackson.

  ‘Stacey, can I have a word?’

  Stacey turned and smiled at her gym buddy. ‘I’ll see you in the New Year, have a good Christmas.’

  ‘OK, luv, you do the same.’ She replied and left them to it.’

  Stacey sighed irksomely, ‘what do you want Peter?’

  ‘I hope you’re not serious about that Will guy.’

  Stacey shook her head and stormed off, Peter followed behind.

  ‘Stacey, he’s only going to hurt you again, can’t you see that?’

  Stacey halted angrily. ‘Oh, yes, and what the hell did you think you were doing going to his flat like that?’

  ‘I just wanted to see what kind of guy he was and tell him not to hurt you again that’s all.’

  Stacey huffed with contempt. ‘Rubbish, you went there to provoke him into hitting you so you could prove once and for all that he’s a no-good thug. And when that didn’t work, you hit him.’

  ‘No, I was just defending myself from him, he threaten…’

  Stacey cut him off. ‘Didn’t you realise the danger you were putting yourself into when you hit him? He could have crushed you like a grape and would have had the right to do so because it was you who attacked him.’

  Peter struggled to find an explanation and Stacey held up a flat palm to stop whatever he was trying to say. ‘Listen, Pete, just stop interfering with my life. We’re not together anymore so it’s no longer any of your concern. Just get over it, OK?’ Then off she marched leaving him looking deflated.

  CHAPTER 20

  Christmas Eve, Tom, Charlie, Mike and Nigel were standing on the doors of the Wetherspoons pub. Outside, the icy December wind was whipping up to a steady thirty miles an hour gale. But this Baltic storm didn’t seem to deter the Christmas revellers. Especially, the young ladettes, who swanned about in their skimpy party tops and killer heels to risk certain hypothermi
a in the quest for the ultimate yuletide rave.

  ‘Jesus Christ.’ Tom nuzzled down into the neck of his heavy reefer jacket, and stomped his feet like the old fashioned bobby on his beat. ‘It’s going to be a looooong night.’

  Speaking too soon, a fracas errupted from inside the foyer, and all the doormen dived through the entrance to investigate. Inside, two warring lads were screaming in each other’s faces – probably because of some girl they both liked. But when the bouncers intervened, somehow it was like showing a red rag to a bull.

  Nevertheless, it didn’t take long for Mike and Nigel to restrain the two combatants. That was until one of their mates took umbrage to the bouncers’ interference and tried to lay one on Mike, and what a mistake that was. In a flash, Tom and Charlie leapt on to the miscreant like two Rottweilers on a ten-pound steak. They both carried him out headfirst and dumped him on the cold cement pavement with a loud humph. Tom then knelt on the lad’s head with one knee while Charlie kept a hold of his legs to stop him from trying to kick them. The lad’s face grimaced under the weight of Tom’s bony knee squashing his head against the pavement. But they kept up the pressure until he had calmed down, and when he did, Tom released his knee, and gripped him by the lapels of his silky shirt. ‘Don’t you ever attack one of my men again, do you understand me?’

  ‘Well, don’t hit my mate then,’ the lad argued.

  ‘I don’t give a shit,’ Tom snarled, shaking him hard enough that the back of his head bumped the concrete.

  ‘Hey,hey, that’s not necessary,’ one of his frumpy girlfriends protested, but Tom ignored her.

  ‘Do I make myself clear?’ Tom repeated the shove to underline his authority and the lad meekly agreed.

  Tom let him go and stood over him while the fat girl helped him back to his feet. Just in case there was any more trouble, all four bouncers stood back on the door to form a barrier. Ironically the two lads who had originally started all this were now shaking hands, and tapping each other apologetically. They were no longer a worry, the bouncer’s problem was now the plump girl who was determined to make her point about Tom’s heavy-handed treatment.