Everything to Nothing

by Mark Henthorne

  ‘That’s okay.’

  David put on a tough sounding voice. ‘Us macho men don’t need no umbrellas.’ He thrust out his chest and swaggered and strutted to the door. Sally lightly laughed at his words and antics, and then he was gone, into the rain and cold, her modern knight in wet T-shirt and soggy jeans.

  Then she was alone for a few minutes in the office. First she turned off the heater and unplugged it. Then she sat down on the stool and took a mirror out of her bag. She opened it and was startled by her bedraggled appearance. She thought she looked like she had been dragged through a bush forwards, backwards and forwards again.

  David though, at that exact moment, was thinking how beautiful she was. He sprinted across the courtyard, key ready in his hand, and reached the truck. It was not a tow truck; it was the kind of truck that carried broken down vehicles on its back. He entered the vehicle, and of course as you would expect with an engine that is cared for by a fleet of mechanics, it started straight away. He reversed quickly out of the space and kept on reversing at a high speed until it seemed like he was not going to turn or stop, but plow straight into the shop and office building. At what seemed to be the last possible moment, he swung the steering wheel to the right, applied the brakes and lined the passenger door up exactly with the bottom of the steps. He reached across and opened this door, twice hit the horn, then leaned back across and peered out of the passenger window.

  He did not see Sally stand up, switch off the lights and walk seemingly slightly hesitantly to the door as there were no windows and the door was solid metal. He did see the door open and watch Sally step through the doorway. He then witnessed and faintly heard a metallic noise as the keys slipped out of her hand to land on the metal steps. He watched her bend down to pick up the keys, saw the flash of a white thong and naked buttocks as she picked up the keys. It must have slipped her mind to stoop more decorously in such a short skirt he thought, and then he watched her peer at the keys trying to work out what key was for the door. He quickly jumped out of the cab of the truck, ran round the front and up the stairs. There were around twenty-five keys in the bunch and he struggled to remember which one was which. David reached Sally and held out his hand. She mouthed the word sorry to him and he pointed to the truck. She nodded and took as much time to descend as she had to ascend the treacherously slick steps. By the time she had reached and entered the vehicle, he had too.

  As he clambered in he looked at her and smiled. She returned his smile. ‘Thank you for doing this.’

  ‘Not a problem.’ He made some adjustments to the heater console, turning the heat high. ‘Didn’t exactly have much else planned for tonight. Might as well help out a beautiful lady, hey?’

  She did not answer. He looked in the rear-view mirror, saw her turn her head away and saw the blood rise in her right cheek as she looked out of the window. He could not help smiling to himself as he slowly drove out of the garage complex. He maintained a sluggish pace as they left the forecourt onto the road. He knew this road well and he usually drove quickly along it, but it was far too wet for those antics, plus he did not want to scare Sally. ‘How far away is the car?’

  ‘About half a mile.’

  ‘On this side of the bridge then?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Guess you wouldn’t have waded the flood,’ his mind flashed to white panties and naked buttocks, ‘but, erm, ahem, you were wet enough for me to think that you had! But, then again, looking at this rain, it is no wonder you were so wet.’

  ‘Yes, I think it was heavier before too. That’s where the man tried to grab me.’

  They had just reached the place and David put the headlights on full beam then asked, ‘What side where you walking on?’

  ‘The other side. Your side.’

  David tried to penetrate the rain with his eyes, looking through the rain battered window. He could not see anything or anyone. As they topped the rise in the road he could see in the hazy distance the Mini. David still had the lights on full beam and as they approached the car they could both see that all was not well.

  The glass in the front window of the car was not there anymore. Only a few shattered pieces remained wedged into the frame. There was a big dent in the bonnet. David stopped the truck nose to nose with the Mini. They both stared at the battered car. David expected Sally to get emotional, to start crying. Instead she just sat there impassively, her jaw set firm and clenched. He witnessed in her face, in her eyes, a strength that he had not noticed before in their short time together, a strong resolve and a strong determination. He glanced at her hands, which were clamping down on the dashboard in front of her, the knuckles white. ‘Stay here. I’ll go out and make sure the coast is clear.’

  ‘No way. I’m coming with you. If there is anyone out there and they do try to attack us, you may actually end up defending whoever has done this to my poor car!’

  He was going to try and object, but then re-noticed the resoluteness in her eyes. He watched as she unfastened her seatbelt and saw that her hands were shaking. This time he doubted whether they were shaking with fear.

  They both exited the car, him being more hesitant than her as she just strode purposefully to the Mini. They both walked round it, her going round the driver’s side, him circling round the passenger’s side, noting the damage to the car in the lights of the truck. All the windows had been smashed, not just the windscreen. All the panels in the car had dents, not just the bonnet, including the roof.

  ‘The bastard!’ Sally strongly stated.

  David was examining the roof. ‘Whoever did this…’

  ‘I think we know who did this.’

  ‘He has jumped on the roof too. Lots of dents on it!’

  Sally seemed more disheartened as she studied the car. ‘What now?’

  ‘Put it on the truck and take it to the garage. Then we definitely phone the police.’

  ‘Shouldn’t we leave it here? The police will want to check it on site.’

  ‘Yeah, good point.’

  David could not help wondering how she did not object to calling the police now when she had found out that her car had been attacked, but didn’t want to when it was just herself that got attacked. David was now looking into the interior of the car. ‘Ohhhhh, the disgusting bastard! That’s sick!’

  ‘What?’ Sally made a move to look into the car.

  ‘No. Don’t look. It is disgusting, please don’t.’

  ‘I’m a big girl… Now don’t try and restrain me from looking in my own car. I’ll knee you in the balls!’

  He stood aside. ‘Okay. Your choice.’

  She looked through the passenger window frame and recoiled back at the sight that greeted her. On the driver’s seat was a big pile of excrement and around, hanging on the steering wheel was a liquid substance that looked white and sticky in the light.

  ‘This guy is obviously very sick,’ commented Sally.

  ‘Very.’

  ‘What’s that on the steering wheel? Looks almost like, like egg white?’ She turned to look into his gorgeous blue eyes and saw him blush.

  He tried to look into her eyes but could not. ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘Tell me! I know you know. You just blushed!’

  ‘I think, well, I’m not sure. Look, why don’t we…’

  ‘Tell me!’

  ‘Okay. Brace yourself.’ He paused for a few moments, thinking of the best way to say it. He decided that the direct way, to get it over with, was probably, hopefully, best. ‘I think it’s sperm.’

  ‘Oh God! I feel sick!’

  Suddenly, her strength and strong resolve deserted her and disappeared into the rainy haze. She spun round and vomited onto the grass verge.

  Chapter 7

  ‘It’s a tragedy! An absolute tragedy!’

  Simon was slumped at a bar in a club, sipping what looked like water but was in fact vodka, straight, on the rocks. He was not quite drooling and dribbling but he was not far off. Talking seemingly to someone about
a tragedy, it would have only been his vodka that found out about the tragedy he was discussing because there was nobody within listening range to hear his words of wisdom.

  Next to Simon was one of his friends. He looked like he was quite happily having a little nap. Theoretically, he was. An alcohol induced nap. He had passed out almost as soon as they had entered the club. The rest of Simon’s friends were pretty much in the same state, all except one though, Peter.

  He was happily walking around the club on his own, chatting and joking, shaking hands with lots of people who he seemed to know and be friendly with. He was not completely sober though, just pleasantly tipsy. Earlier in the night he only seemed to be very drunk. Claiming a shortage of money he had avoided going in a round with his friends and he purchased his own drinks. At first, he drank with his friends, matching them pint for pint, shot for shot. He drank enough just to get himself drunk, not inebriated, just happily, confidently, tipsy.

  His appearing to be drunk was an act, which is surprisingly easy to do when surrounded by people who are really very drunk. When he reached a stage of drunkenness he was happy with, the stage were his confidence is high and his tongue loosened, he practically stopped drinking.

  Un-noticed by his friends, the few drinks he did buy usually went unfinished. He acted drunk and as boisterous as the rest of them but as soon as he entered the club he lost his friends and seemingly sobered up in a flash yet he maintained his happy, confidently tipsy state with an occasional vodka and coke. Peter’s logic was that one is not going to acquire female company for the night by being like Simon, that is slumped at a bar talking to yourself.

  Peter was talking to some people near a bar close to the entrance when he noticed a group of sexily clad females enter the club. He was disappointed to see that Michelle who he had spotted earlier that night had borrowed a cardigan from one of her friends as he enjoyed watching her breasts. That was as far as his attraction towards Michelle went though. He knew he stood as much chance of scoring with his own mother tonight as he did with Michelle. Michelle’s last boyfriend, a friend of Peter’s, had firmly closed and locked the gate to that tunnel. No, Peter was interested in another one of Michelle’s friends, Sarah. She was building up quite a reputation in their college for putting her tunnel about and he had intentions of driving along her tunnel that night.

  Peter was not incredibly good looking, he was just average. The traits he did have going for him were that he was a good speaker, gift of the gab so to speak, and he was naturally funny and witty. His strongest personality trait though was his confidence. He was supremely confident. For every knock back he received tonight he would bounce right back and try to pull another woman. He stopped talking to his acquaintances, leaving them laughing, and went to lean on the railing of a balcony that overlooked the dance floor.

  He watched the group of ladies descend a crowded flight of stairs and he noticed at the bottom how they all separated. Sarah went straight to the dance floor and Michelle went to a bar. Peter watched as a couple of drunken male dancers tried to dance with her, one of them trying to dirty dance with her, sliding his crotch up and down the rear of her body, stopping at her buttocks on his second pass then he started to grind his pelvis into her soft flesh.

  It was hard to tell whether Sarah was enjoying the unasked for attention from the distance Peter was observing from, but when the male dancer grabbed her breasts it became clear that she did not enjoy that kind of attention. She turned round and he could see her gesticulating at him. He made a move to try and start dancing with her again by grabbing her buttocks and he tried to pull her crotch against his crotch. Sarah managed to break free of his grasp, took a step back and hit his drunken, leering face. Not a slap, a fist fully clenched powerful punch.

  She drew her arm back and launched a venomous straight right that caught the young gentleman on the point of his chin. Peter physically winced and made a wincing face as he witnessed the punch connect, and then he started to chuckle and then laugh out loud as he witnessed the male slump to the floor. Sarah calmly turned around and continued to dance.

  All this had unfolded so quickly, and the punch executed so quickly that the club security did not witness it. All they eventually noticed was a young man lying on the dance floor. Two of them made their way through the multitudes of dancers, picked him up, and carried him off the dance floor and out of Peter’s view. Sarah discreetly left the dance floor on the other side and walked under the balcony on which Peter was standing.

  Peter turned quickly and made his way through the crowds to a flight of stairs that would take him to the same level of the club that Sarah was on. He quickly descended the steps and walked over to the side of the dance floor and then turned so he had his back to the dancing area. He immediately spotted her. She was standing at the bar trying to order a drink but was being continually ignored by the bar staff.

  He stood for a few moments contemplating the nice, long legs he was going to lie between tonight. He imagined the feel of the smooth, soft flesh as he ran his hand up her leg, up to where the heat and the pleasure lay. He shook his head, trying to clear the image and walked over to the bar where he squeezed in next to Sarah but did not say anything or acknowledge her. He gestured to one of the bar men who was in one of his classes at college and shouted, ‘Hurry up Andy you arse!’

  Andy quickly flicked up his middle finger in Peter’s direction, but after he had finished serving a customer he came over to him. ‘What’ll it be Peter?’

  ‘Vodka and coke please Andy. And you Sarah?’

  Sarah looked surprised. She did not think he had noticed her, never mind offer to buy her a drink. Sarah stood up on tiptoe so he could hear her answer and said into his ear, ‘The same.’

  ‘Two vodka and cokes Andy. Make them big!’

  Andy poured the drinks and gave them to Peter who paid with a ten-pound note. No change. ‘And Dick Turpin wore a mask,’ muttered Peter under his breath.

  He gave Sarah her drink and she mouthed thank you to him. He pointed over to a set of doors, but she shook her head. He jabbed his finger twice in the air towards the doors, took her arm and forcibly pulled her towards the room. Peter looked at her and saw her roll her eyes. She knocked his hand away and followed him towards the doors. They passed through the solid wooden doors and after a couple of paces there were a set of glass doors. Peter held open one of the doors for Sarah and followed her into the club’s chill out room.

  There were sofas all round the edge of this room and also big, comfortable lounge chairs. There was a small bar stocking only bottles of various alcohols and water. Instead of the heavy dance music that was playing in the main part of the club there was ambient music playing in the background that went almost un-noticed. A few of the sofas were occupied, but the room would fill up as the night wore on. Peter led them over to a sofa in the corner of the room and sat down. She remained standing.

  ‘Why have you dragged me in here?’

  ‘Because I wanted to speak to you. I didn’t force you.’

  ‘You seem to have the wrong idea about me Johnno…’

  ‘Please, honestly, I hate that name. Please, Peter.’

  ‘Okay then. Peter, you seem to have the wrong idea about me. I don’t like you. I think you are an arrogant, cocky git. Just because you have bought me a drink doesn’t mean I want to spend any time with you.’

  ‘You don’t even know me Sarah. You’ve just said those hurtful things about me, which I think are unjustified by the way, and you don’t even know me. Now, will you sit down and tell me why you think like that?’

  Sarah rolled her eyes and sat down next to him. She crossed her legs and ran a hand through her blonde hair. Her brown eyes were slightly glazed. ‘I think like that because of the way you are with your friends. The way you’ve spoken to me in the past.’

  ‘You fancy me don’t you?’

  ‘I beg your pardon? Exactly! Exactly what I mean!’ Arrogant and delusional! My perfect guy!’

&n
bsp; Sarah seemed flustered and was struggling for words. She took a sip of her drink and tried to compose herself. She did fancy Peter, physically, but what she knew of his personality repulsed her.

  ‘I think you do.’

  She rolled her eyes again and said, ‘This conversation is going nowhere. Thank you for the drink and goodbye.’

  She made to stand up but he reached across and stopped her by placing a hand on her shoulder. ‘You look very cute, you know, when you roll your eyes.’

  ‘Cute?! That’s it, I’m going!’ She then noticed the light in his eyes and the smirk on his face. ‘You are an arse. You know that don’t you?’

  ‘I know I am. Just playing with you, winding you up.’

  She relaxed and started to see the funny side of his comments and said, ‘Why are you such a tosser when you are with your friends?’

  ‘I didn’t know I was.’

  ‘You seem different now. More, well, normal.’

  ‘As opposed to being abnormal usually?’

  ‘You see, I would never have expected you to say a sentence like that. I thought you only knew lewd and childish vocabulary.’

  ‘Then you don’t know me then do you?’

  ‘No, I guess I don’t.’

  They stopped talking and both drunk a little of their drinks. He kept on glancing discreetly at her legs, knowing that he was going to explore what lay in between them later that night. As this thought was racing through his mind he decided to put his eggs in one basket and said, ‘I fancy you. Have done for ages.’

  It was perfectly timed. She was mid-drink and the surprise of what he said made her splurt out of her mouth the liquid she had partly drunk back into her glass. She started to cough, attracting the solitary security person’s attention who thought it was someone being sick, but on seeing it was just someone coughing returned to talking to a member of the bar staff. Peter moved a little closer so he was right next to her and started patting her back.