by Andy Morris
and approached the counter. His steps were uneven and it was taking obvious effort to move in a straight line. What if he was dangerous? Amber wished again that she’d locked the door earlier. She glanced out of the window again but it was unlikely any other customers would come on a night like this.
At first she thought Iggy Pop was staring at her breasts, but then realised he was looking at the rose quartz pendant hanging around her neck. Rose quartz crystals are good for protection. Amber’s grandmother had taught her all about crystal magic when she was younger. She had chosen this particular necklace this morning and she hadn’t really considered why she’d chosen it at the time. But now she suspected the reason her intuition had guided her towards it: Did she needed its protective energies tonight against some potential assailant?
Amber noticed that the man’s swagger was impeded by a limp as he continued his drunken parade down towards the checkout. He was favouring his right leg over his left as if he had muscle cramp. Amber recalled from her revision that excess alcohol use was a common cause of cramp.
He was muttering to himself again “… I didn’t believe it was real…” Amber caught a few words but couldn’t make much sense of his ramblings. Maybe he was unwell, Amber wondered. Had something happened to him while he was out in the fog?
“Can I help?” she asked politely, forcing a smile.
It was several long self-conscious seconds before he replied. “I think… I think I need to get… food…” he began. “Been partying… Somewhere… Up at that stone circle near the woods” he tried to elaborate and pointed vaguely out of the window with his bottle of whiskey, unsure of exactly which direction he had come from. Amber knew he meant Old Meg’s Circle; an ancient stone circle just outside the village.
“They say there’s magic in those stones, you know!” his eyes widened as he repeated the tourist slogan with a disrespectful chuckle that Amber didn’t like.
“We’re camping out there; me and my mate but I need… something”. A glazed look came over him again as if he were on some inner journey going back into his distant memories. Then his deeply lined face brightened momentarily as an idea sparked in his head. “Are you still selling drink?” he looked around hopefully at the chilled drinks cabinets lining the opposite wall.
“We can’t sell alcohol before 12pm” Amber replied evenly. He stared at her blankly for a few more moments as if her words didn’t quite sink in and Amber wondered if he had even heard her at all. Then his frown hardened from one of confusion to one of slight irritation. His oily stare intensified and Amber felt herself beginning to squirm under his intimate gaze.
“You’ve been up at the stone’s?” she had to ask to break his unpleasant spell. She often liked to go up to Old Meg’s Circle at dawn to welcome in the new day. She didn’t like tourists talking flippantly about the stones though. Not to mention; it was considered bad luck to go there on the solstice.
Old Meg’s Circle had stood out on the moors for centuries. No one knew when the stones were put there or how or why but there were many stories that tried to explain their origin. Of all the myths, Amber’s favourite one was of the witch known as Old Meg.
Old Meg had been out tending to her sheep out on moors one day when a king and his men came riding by. The king demanded she hand over one of her sheep as a tax for using his land. The witch refused so the king struck her down and took all of her animals. As she lay there in the mud she uttered a curse onto the king and his men. So as punishment the king ordered his men to kill her at dawn. Then as the first rays of sun began to touch the hillside the men surrounded her in a circle and drew their swords. But before they could murder her the men all turned into stone right where they were standing.
“Paracetamol?” Iggy Pop’s sharp voice barked over her internal dialogue.
“Erm, it’s here” Amber pointed hesitantly at the display next to the chewing gum on the counter in front of her. Iggy Pop snatched up two packets. He slowly turned his head to the left and right and then tilted backwards in the way people do when they try to ease stiffness in their neck.
“Must have slept funny last night” the other murmured to himself and Amber couldn’t help noticing the tension now edging his voice. The faraway look returned to his gaze as if he were trying to remember something else, some detail that was important to him. “Where is godforsaken place anyway?” but before Amber had chance to answer he interrupted her again.
“…Hang on”. He dropped the tablets and whiskey on the counter and limped precariously towards the far end of the store again, sighing and wheezing with every step. Every few feet he would stop and look around as if he were lost and trying to get his baring’s. Then he would mutter angrily to himself and continue plodding around the aisles. His confusion was fermenting into hostility and Amber didn’t need her intuition to tell her she needed to get someone to help her.
She carefully took out her mobile phone and swiped it on under the counter so he wouldn’t see what she was doing. Quickly and quietly sent a text to her cousin Corwin who also lived in the village: Get over to the garage and bring your van! Corwin was like a big brother to her and she knew he worried about her doing night shifts by herself. He’d come round in a few minutes and then at least she wouldn’t be alone any more.
The sudden crash of something falling to the floor sent Amber flinching back against the cigarette kiosk. She was surprised how nervy she’d become.
“It’s your fault” Iggy Pop spat causing Amber to flinch. She wasn’t sure if he was addressing her or not, but either way she had to get him out of the shop, quickly. Something was happening to him and there was nothing she could do until Corwin arrived. She checked her phone quickly but he hadn’t replied.
Outside the oppressive fogbank swirled ever closer, tightening its ethereal embrace around the little shop and Amber wondered if Corwin would even make it in this weather. The pumps closest to the shop were almost hidden now as visibility outside had reduced to just a few feet. Any car pulling into the forecourt would be unable to see inside shop from the pumps. She shuddered, because it was entirely possible that her unbalanced customer was thinking the same thing. But then she remembered the PA system that staff used to talk to customers at the pumps.
They usually used it to tell customers to put the nozzle back onto the pump properly or to put their phones away. Amber risked a quick glance in Iggy Pop’s direction and, satisfied he wasn’t looking back at her, she switched on the microphone. Now everything that she said in the store would be broadcast through the speakers on the forecourt outside. With any luck Iggy Pop wouldn’t notice and anyone passing would hear what was happening. That is, she reminded herself; if someone passed by.
She sat down and sent another anxious text to Corwin: Where are you?
Iggy Pop was clumping towards her again; limping around the corner from the chocolates and biscuits. His wheezing was becoming harsher with each step he took. He was rubbing the back of his neck still and the way he was throwing his accusing glares in her direction made Amber feel he was actually blaming her for his discomfort. If so, then what did he plan to do about it?
There was no time to speculate as he reared up at the counter again, his arms filled with packets of biscuits, crisps, a bottle of coke and a Cornish pasty. He didn’t say a word as he unceremoniously dumped the items on the counter. He looked at his purchases and then at Amber as if to say; what are you waiting for, put them through the till!
A tense suffocating atmosphere had filled the shop. It was as if an invisible fog had flowed into the store when Iggy pop had opened the door and it was slowly choking her. Amber took a calming breath and began her internal chanting again; sensing things could escalate at any moment.
Peace and love surround me and nothing but love will emerge from within me.
The counter was less than a meter wide and it was the only thing that stood between them. It wasn’t much of a barricade. She got to her feet on shaky legs and made a point of looki
ng behind her at the security monitor next to the clock. It showed the interior of the shop with both herself and Iggy Pop clearly visible. Her heart was hammering in her chest. In her mind’s eye she saw the other reach into his ripped jacket and take out a sharp rusty knife, intending to slash at her neck; severing her artery and spraying blood over the counter, the window and the monitor. She mentally shook her head to banish the images. But the man before her had such a negative aura about it that she couldn’t stop it from clouding her own. She knew what was coming and she was all alone. Corwin wouldn’t get here in time and her crystal wouldn’t offer any protection either.
Outside, the smothering fog seemed to be pressing up against the windows as if it were trying to get inside.
Where was Corwin?
She picked up the bottle of coke and scanned it through the till, chanting more urgently to try and centre herself once more.
Peace and love surround me and nothing but love will emerge from within me.
Maybe it was the way the light reflected off the brooding fogbank outside but as Iggy Pop was getting out his wallet Amber noticed just how old and grey he actually looked up close. He had the appearance of an eighty year old as he fumbled with a twenty pound note, which slipped