Tom broke and potted nothing. ‘Bollocks.’
‘Abi’s shot isn’t it?’ asked Lassie.
Pascale and Abi held a quick meeting that the two boys watched intently. Voice, sign language and angles with cues ended with Abi on the black ball to the middle pocket. She rolled it in with ease and stuck her tongue out at Lassie and then Tom.
‘Top drawer that. A proper clear up, I think we’ve been had, Lass.’
Lassie agreed and laid his cue down and bowed in appreciation of Abi’s prowess on the table. They all finished their drinks and stepped outside into the street. It was getting dark now and the neon was in full glow, music was pounding out and there were lots of people on the street and in the bars around the square. Lassie stood looking around, watching the trendsetters of Amsterdam coming out for a pose. He wondered if every night was as lively.
‘Boys, are you OK to walk to the club?’ As Pascale said this she took Tom’s hand in hers and smiled at him.
’Lead the way, my dear.’ Tom squeezed her hand and smiled. It was really nice to see these girls again and he felt he could tell her anything. She was a pretty cool chick.
They drifted off past small cafés and pubs and Tom noticed the change from the centre of town to the more residential areas.
‘So Tom, how long do you intend to stay in Amsterdam?’
He pondered telling her everything but held back.
‘Well, I’m definitely here until Saturday, then hopefully back to England for a bit. I’d really like to come and visit you again though, if you’d like me to that is!’ He laughed nervously.
‘I’d like that a lot, though I’m sensing you’re holding back about something. Do you have a girlfriend back in England?’
‘No girlfriend, just an MBA.’
‘What’s an MBA, Tom?’ Pascale looked quizzically at him as she led them through a short tunnel.
‘Oh sorry, an MBA is a major ball-ache. A big problem. A difficult situation.
Pascale laughed out loud, ‘Major ball-ache, an MBA. I love the UK sense of humour, fucking brilliant. Though I’m guessing you’re also using the skill of understatement?’
He did all but tell her then. He kept the forged money out of the tale, telling her they came over just to get a bit of headspace and that he could just about afford to pay the people he owed but that it would leave him skint and without options. He also left out the fact that the blokes chasing him were in Holland too and were actively looking for him and Lassie and that he thought they would, if they caught them, probably maim or kill them and maybe the people they were with too.
‘Well, I know we have only known each other a short while but you are welcome to stay with me in our flat for a while.’
The last thing he needed was to drag someone else into this fucking mess. ‘Thank you, Pascale and I would truly love to spend some more time with you in Holland but…’
‘Ahh yes,’ Pascale interrupted Tom, ‘I sense the understatement coming through?’
Tom smiled.
Tom turned to Lassie as they both picked up the sound of heavy bass thudding through the air. They rounded another corner and facing them was an industrial unit, with a line of windows running the length of the building but above head height. Through the windows they could see lasers and lights dissecting the air inside in rhythm to the now thunderous bass that was making the huge metal rolling door on the front of the building vibrate like it was dancing itself.
They joined the queue, and found to their amazement that the person in front of them was an old lady. An old lady with a dog.
‘I fucking love Holland,’ Lassie chirped, pissing himself laughing.
‘Hello Boy.’ Tom bent down to stroke the dog, a little West Highland Terrier, which happily yapped at him and tried to lick his face.
‘His name is Benji,’ the elderly owner said to Tom. ‘He’s four and a half, he loves treats, and I even give him chips on a Wednesday. He has a brother and a sister but he doesn’t see them very often because they live in Delft.’
‘He’s a lovely little fellow – does he like house music?’ Tom said, turning to the others and smiling.
She grinned back, showing off a healthy quantity of disco foam at the sides of her mouth, ‘I’m not sure, but I fucking love it!’
It was at this point that Tom and Lassie took a deeper interest in the old lady, she was at least sixty and judging by her grinding jaw and chatter, was speeding her tits off! They turned to each other in disbelief and then to the girls who were equally entertained by the raving granny they had just met. The fun came to an abrupt end though when the queue shortened to the point where it was the granny’s turn to get frisked. The bouncers were speaking in Dutch and Tom asked Pascale what was going on.
‘I think they are refusing her entry.’
Tom went pulled out a wad of guilders from his pocket and pushed them into Pascale’s hand.
‘Tell them we’ll pay for her if it’s a problem, and also for Benji!’
The doormen were, unfortunately, having none of it though and when Pascale questioned them, calling them ageist, they calmly said her age wasn’t the problem, she had been before, but that Benji got too excited and that he had done a poo on the dance floor last time he was there. Tom, Lassie and the girls said goodbye to the lady but all she would reply was, ‘Benji’s done nothing wrong, Benji’s a good boy. He’d never do that.’
‘She’s caked,’ Lassie said to Tom. ‘Completely frazzled.’
Frisked and patted down, they found themselves inside. There was a stage full of speakers at one end, a huge lighting rig and a make-shift bar selling cold soft drinks and beer to one side.
Abi produced pills with a dove pressed onto each one which she dropped onto their outstretched palms. Nice work he mouthed as bottles of water were passed round to assist in getting the E down their throats.
They watched the throng of people dancing about and before long they were all having a little blow and rubbing the backs of their necks and the top of their heads. Eyes rolled, jaws wobbled, water was drunk and hugs and kisses were shared.
‘I fucking love you, Lassie,’ Tom grabbed his bestie and gave him a huge sweaty hug, which was returned with interest.
‘I love you too, mate.’
‘Sorry for all this bother,’ Tom shouted, through his grinding jaw, but Lassie wasn’t listening, he was nodding his head as the DJ cued up a song they both loved and they and threw their hands in the air. Altern8’s ‘Infiltrate 202’ boomed out across the floor and Tom stood and looked towards the speakers as the bassline made his body shake. He could feel his eyes rolling and his chest heaving as wave after wave of euphoria swept through his body. He grabbed Pascale with a sweaty hand and attempted to dance. Unfortunately, the E had rooted him to the spot and he could barely stand. They stood hugging, holding each other up. These were powerful and he was actually looking forward to a lull so he could get his head together. Tom kissed Pascale’s sweaty forehead as Lassie appeared in front of him with a laser backdrop highlighting his outline, making him look like an alien.
Lassie gave Pascale some money and said, ‘Go get some more, baby, we’ll get smashed tonight!’
2.22 Pour me a large one
‘I don’t fucking believe you, Gary, I just don’t fucking believe you.’
Gary Sparks pointed down to the leg of his new jeans, jeans that were a real mess. As they were on the inside too... ‘I’m gonna have to go back to get these changed and laundered George, they’re disgusting.’
‘Jesus yes, you dirty bastard. Go on, fuck off back and meet me in outside the pub opposite our hotel. I’m gonna have a wander, might get myself a massage or something.’
‘A massage or something? Don’t you mean you’re going to get a brass?’
George turned to Gary, ‘No, Gary, I mean a massage. Why on earth would I want to get a brass? Pay for sex? Fuck off.’
‘There are some real stunners here though, George, absolute beauties.’
‘Gary,’ George said, ‘one thing you need to remember, the first inch is bliss beyond belief, the rest is just raw meat. Now fuck off and I’ll see you later.’
Gary skulked away into the night and George made his way back to the alleyway he had visited earlier.
‘Hello, honey, looking for that special request still?’
George stepped inside, and the girl closed the door behind him and drew the curtain.
‘OK, you pay me for the room, and you pay Thelma for the trick, Yes?’
Terms discussed, George felt oddly out of his comfort zone, he was usually the one in absolute control but this was so far gone it was mad. He handed over 150 guilders – clearly it was over the odds but his was a strange request and he needed the room too. He considered asking to see her first but then thought better of it as he was going to do it anyway so it didn’t really matter. As the girl left her replacement slipped by her. She wasn’t great, but he’d seen worse, and he felt she’d made an effort for him. Her hair was done up in a Mari Wilson beehive and her war paint was fresh on. She was dressed in a full-length PVC mac and was wearing black stilettos. She looked to be in her forties but was probably younger; it was, after all, a tough industry and she played to a tough crowd.
‘Hello, Sailor,’ she said cheesily. ‘So you’re the man with the specific tastes, eh?’
‘It seems so, Thelma is it?’
‘Thelma it is, but I can be anybody you want to be, it’s your money, my dear.’ She then began to undress him. While she was still fully clothed in her mac she knelt and took him in her mouth and started giving his cock and balls a good clean. This went on for a minute, and he confirmed his satisfaction with the odd grunt. She then pushed him back onto the bed. George sat up to watch her work. She looked up, teasing the end of him with one hand while the other played with her tits. She could feel his balls swelling and wanted to make sure she wasn’t there for too long.
‘You ready, baby?’ She asked as he felt a finger in his arse, fuck it felt good. He wanted to fuck her right now.
‘Yeah, turn over.’
‘Oh no, baby, Thelma on top, Thelma likes it on top. You won’t regret it.’
With this she took off her PVC mac and climbed on top of him.
‘Watch out, baby, this will get messy.’
George Meachen was excited; exactly what he wanted was messy. Bloody messy. She unrolled a condom and put it on him, then positioned herself above, as if choosing her moment. Then she let herself drop onto him and let out a little squeal. Almost instantly George could see blood. She was riding him, massaging both tits, his hands on her hips to steady her. As he looked down the thought flashed through his mind that he could be in a slaughterhouse, this pushed him over the edge and he began to tell her he was going to come.
‘Yes, baby, give it to me, give it to me.’ He was looking at her, riding him, massaging and squeezing her tits, and he felt a huge groan coming up from his groin as he closed his eyes and emptied himself into the condom inside Thelma. He opened his eyes as the last surge left his aching balls.
He couldn’t quite believe what he saw. Thelma had slid of him and was writhing her way up his body and moving towards his face. He pushed her off, stood up and looked at himself in the mirror. From the neck down he was covered in blood. He looked like he had just been fucking born.
‘You like Thelma on top, baby? She stood, studying him as she buttoned up her PVC mac. Her choice of attire was clearly appropriate.
All George could do was nod. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’
Thelma disappeared through the little door and into the night. The other girl then called, ‘I’ll give you five minutes to clear yourself up and then I need the room, darling.’
George did what he could with the sink and the wet wipes, and put on his clothes back on... He thanked the girl loudly and let himself out into the night air. He needed to go back to the hotel and have a shower. He made his way back to the hotel in a contented state. He couldn’t quite work out why he liked it but what he was sure of was that this was going to the grave with him.
At the hotel, he found Gary Sparks, propping the bar up waiting for him.
‘Where have you been, George? That must have been one hell of a massage.’
‘Shut up and get the drinks in, Gary. I’ll be down in a minute.’
George disappeared into the lift, giving Gary Sparks two fingers as the doors closed. He was warming to the lad he thought. He showered, washed his hair twice, changed his clothes and headed back down to the bar where Gary had bought a bottle of Scotch and had two glasses and a bucket of ice at the ready.
‘You can put your name on it and leave it for when you come back. Nice touch, eh?’
‘As long as you don’t put Mickey Mouse on it I don’t give a fuck, now pour me a large one.’
‘We can sit out the front to watch for them if you like, George?’
George admired Gary’s tenacity, but he was spent.
‘Let’s leave it for tonight, eh, Gary, we’ll have another couple of these, have a decent kip and start again tomorrow nice and early. Let’s order some chips.’
2.22 Somewhere
‘Come on, it’s five in the morning. Let’s go back to the flat, or go get some breakfast.’
The others, a heap of shabby, strung out humanity on the floor of the warehouse, obeyed without a murmur and followed Pascale out into the bright Amsterdam sunshine, squinting like rats when a manhole cover is popped for inspection.
Lassie stood nibbling at his bottom lip as he watched his left leg carry out a set of involuntary twitches. He mustered a sentence together and replied, ‘I couldn’t eat a fucking thing, man, but I’d love a milkshake, a proper one you know, not from McDonalds, a proper café. One with fresh raspberries.’
Abi clapped in agreement and mouthed ‘banana’ to her sister. She knew where to go and started to lead them back into town. As Tom wandered down the street he felt like he was in an abandoned city. There was no one about and the sound of the rave had been sucked into the buildings as they weaved their way back into the centre of the city. He wondered what had happened to Benji and his mad owner.
He turned to Lassie and grinned the grin of a man that had munched through at least five Es.
‘Hope she got her rave somewhere, she was a top lady. And Benji. Though if he did shit on the dance floor I can understand them not letting her in again.’
‘Stop talking bollocks, Tom.’
The other three all started laughing and Tom held up his hand as if to say, ‘sorry, I get it’ and trailed along behind wishing he could lay down somewhere as he was still getting mad rushes every few minutes.
It wasn’t long before Tom and Lassie began to recognise streets and bar names and especially bureau de change kiosks they had visited only the day before. They passed a few street cafés before being led into one that seemed especially popular for the time of day, though the girls pointed out that Amsterdam rarely, if ever shut down completely.
‘Hope it’s because of the milkshakes,’ said Lassie and wasn’t disappointed when Abi got the menu and sat next to him and pointed to the pictures. Milkshakes of any and all varieties were on offer.
‘Just what the doctor ordered,’ Tom smiled at Pascale, he knew E heightened the emotions but she was fucking beautiful and kind and intelligent.
Pascale leant forward and spoke to Tom in surprise, ‘Lassie’s studying to be a doctor?’
Tom took Pascale’s face in his hands and kissed her forehead. ‘No silly billy, it’s just a stupid English saying!’ They both laughed at the thought of Lassie being any kind of doctor and focused on ordering some milkshakes.
Post Ecstasy, they kept drifting off to little private areas of their brain, trying to reform links and memories that would allow them to function as a human being again shortly. Tom sat and looked at the other customers in the cafe. He thought many of them had been at the rave. His gaze landed on one individual in particular. Fuck. Tom slowly
kicked Lassie under the table, and nodded behind him. Lassie didn’t seem to grasp the attempt at covert communication and just gave him a double Roger Moore with his eyebrows.
‘What?’ He mouthed silently.
Again, Tom motioned for Lassie to look behind him and this time he realised Tom’s intention and the colour began to drain from his face.
‘Relax, Lass, relax. It’s not who you think it is. It’s that silly bollocks Aky from Tollesbury, we just can’t seem to shake him at all!’
Lassie looked around, with some relief, and laughed. It was indeed their battered friend from Essex and before Tom could say anything Lassie had called him over and was standing, arms open, waiting for a post rave hug. Tom then received one, but not before Abi and Pascale had the pleasure of a sweaty man embrace from someone they had only just met. They all sat down, both girls wafting their tops to get some air circulating around them. Introductions were made and as expected, the girls were told what top blokes Tom and Lassie were and the boys were told how beautiful the girls were.
‘So, beautiful people, how’s it going? I’m fucking slaughtered. Proper mangled.’ Aky helped himself to the closest milkshake, which was Tom’s luckily, as he wasn’t feeling it. ‘Fucking mental milkshake, man, it’s like it’s cooling my fucking brain down, eh?’
Tom laughed, ‘In that case you’d better finish it.’ He pushed his milkshake towards Aky nodding for him to take it.
‘Cheers, mucker! You’re a fucking legend!’
It turned out that Aky had been at the rave too. His eyes were like piss-holes in the snow and he looked completely off his head still. Lassie enquired as to what he had got down his neck to end up in such a state?
‘Fucking mental, lads, fucking mental. You won’t believe it. Turns out one of the lad’s knows a vet and we were downing these horse tranquilisers. Fucking mental. But even before that we did what they called a green goblin! They take your head off at the shoulders!
‘What’s in one then?’ They all asked, almost in unison.
‘Well, it’s like a shot of vodka and methadone downed in one. It’s a massive hit. Fucking wiped me out for an hour at least, catatonic I was.
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