Fifteen Days Without a Head

by Dave Cousins

  ‘They’re gonna be late,’ says Han, trying not to look disappointed. ‘They’re gonna meet us down the front.’

  ‘OK.’ I’m glad to get Jay away from the fair, before he spots anything else that will cost me money.

  We find a space near the front, towards the side of the speaker stack. The band have finished and there are lots of people in black T-shirts moving equipment around on stage.

  ‘This is boring,’ says Jay. ‘I want to go back to the fair.’

  ‘God, Jay! We’ve only just got here!’

  Jay looks hurt. I feel guilty.

  ‘Sorry … look there’ll be another band on soon.’ I smile, but Jay folds his arms and turns his back. I’m starting to think that coming here wasn’t such a good idea. The heat is giving me a headache and my stomach feels like it’s turned itself inside out I’m so hungry. Everywhere I look there are people eating: walking past stuffing burgers into their mouths, or sitting on the grass with whole feasts spread out on blankets in front of them.

  Han nudges me. ‘Who’s that?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘That bird on stage.’

  I look up and see a girl in a red and gold blazer waving at me. There’s a cluster of people on stage now, all dressed in the same uniform. It’s only when one of the men props up a sign saying: Brass-O that I realize it’s the girl from the library. I raise my hand to wave back, but she’s already turned away.

  ‘D’you know her then?’ says Han.

  ‘Not really. I only met her once. She goes to our school.’

  ‘What’s she called?’

  ‘Mina … something. I dunno.’

  He shrugs, already turning away, scanning the field for the hundredth time. ‘Where are they?’ he says, mostly to himself.

  Brass-O are better than I expect. They play lots of TV themes and famous songs, but all on trumpets and stuff. I watch Mina most of the time, but she doesn’t look over again. They finish with Hawaii Five-O, and when they leave the stage I feel oddly disappointed.

  ‘That was great!’ says Jay, who spent most of the gig perched on my shoulders, hanging on to my hair. Only Han looks miserable.

  ‘No answer,’ he says, frowning at his phone. ‘They should have been here ages ago.’

  ‘It’s getting busy,’ I tell him. ‘They could be here already.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Han nods. ‘I’ll text them.’

  I’m scanning the crowd when I feel a dig in the ribs.

  ‘Don’t wave then will you.’ Mina is standing next to me, dressed in her Brass-O uniform.

  I feel my cheeks flush. ‘You were great!’ I tell her.

  She screws up her face. ‘It was OK I suppose. I was flat all the way through “YMCA”.’

  ‘We didn’t notice. Jay enjoyed it.’

  She looks down at Jay and grins. ‘Little kids and pensioners—they’ll clap anything that makes a noise.’

  ‘Mina!’ A blonde girl in a vest and tiny skirt pushes past me and hugs Mina.

  Han, previously silent and brooding, suddenly looks interested.

  Mina untangles herself from the girl and turns to me. ‘You know Amy, from school?’

  The girl looks vaguely familiar.

  ‘This is Laurence Laurence Roach.’

  Amy nods. ‘I’ve seen you around, yeah!’

  ‘I’m Han,’ says Han, shouldering his way between us. ‘Smoke?’ He produces his cigarettes with a flourish, and promptly drops half of them on the ground.

  Amy shakes her head and links arms with Mina. ‘Come on,’ she says. ‘Let’s go to the fair.’

  Han is scrabbling around on the grass trying to retrieve his fags. Jay’s helping, while at the same time telling Han that smoking will make him die.

  ‘Come on,’ says Mina to me. ‘We’re going to the fair. You can buy me some candyfloss, then I might just forgive you for being so rude!’

  The fair is a lot more crowded now than it was earlier. Tinny pop songs howl from hidden speakers, fighting the distant thump and crunch of the bands on stage. The air is full of shrieking voices and the scream of the rides. Everything moves. Lights flash and spin, blasting jagged colours through the bodies pushing and pressing in the heat. I hold tight to Jay’s hand, following Mina’s red jacket through the crush, and wonder what I’m doing here. I feel sick from lack of food and staying too long in the sun. Maybe we should go home. I’m not sure I’m having a good time.

  Han seems happy though. He’s magically produced a bottle of vodka from his pocket, which seems to have made him a lot more popular with Amy. The girls are ahead of us, arms entwined, heads together. Han grins and offers me the bottle.

  ‘No thanks.’

  ‘Go on, man! It’ll help you relax.’ He nods towards Mina and his eyebrows quiver. ‘You’re in there, man, no sweat!’

  I shake my head. ‘We’re just friends.’

  I’m not even sure we’re that. I don’t know what we are. I hardly know her.

  We’re standing outside the Ghost Train. There’s an awkward moment when Han and Amy stagger towards the queue, giggling—and Mina stands there looking expectantly at me.

  ‘They won’t let Jay on.’ I shrug. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Yes they will!’ says Jay.

  ‘You’re too young.’

  ‘No, I’m not!’ Jay frowns. ‘It’s not up to you anyway.’

  I point to the man at the entrance to the Ghost Train. ‘No, it’s up to him.’

  Jay growls and stamps his foot.

  ‘It’s rubbish in there anyway,’ says Mina, holding out her hand to him. ‘I know somewhere much better.’

  Jay takes Mina’s hand and sticks his tongue out at me.

  She leads us to a grubby looking tent on the edge of the fair. There’s no queue and it’s free to go inside. Above the opening is a wooden sign, with old-fashioned swirly writing: Prepare to be amazed! You are about to step into another dimension, a land where the rules of our world mean nothing. You have been warned …

  Before I get the chance to ask Mina if she’s sure this is a good idea, she grins and disappears inside the tent with Jay.

  I hurry after them and nearly collide with a curly haired midget rushing straight at me. It’s only when I jump out of the way that I realize the midget is me. We’re in a Hall of Mirrors … well, a Tent of Mirrors, anyway.

  Jay and Mina are standing just inside, laughing at me. I can barely see them it’s so dark in here. I shiver. Compared to the cauldron outside, the atmosphere in the tent is damp and earthy, with the smell of something slightly sticky in the air.

  We follow the faint luminous arrows on the ground into deeper darkness. I can hear Jay and Mina beside me, but only see their reflections—laughing and pointing, coming at me from all sides. One minute I’m small, the next huge, my arms elastic, curving up and over my head. Now Jay towers over me, three times his normal size. Mina is thin, then round and fat like a beach ball. I’m aware of other people in here with us. Shadows and faces flickering in and out of my reflections, upside down, left and right—converging into one person, who smiles and splits in two, each side going in opposite directions. It’s making me feel dizzy. I walk over to where Jay and Mina are laughing at a man making faces at Jay—his eyes in the mirror are huge and rolling, he growls like a monster and Jay screams. The man laughs.

  There’s something familiar about him, but it’s hard to see what he really looks like. I’m sure I’ve seen him before though. I probably have—the whole of Hardacre could be here.

  The man staggers towards the mirror like a zombie, his grey ponytail shining silver in the lights. This time Jay and Mina both scream, then Jay growls back at the man, finding his giant reflection in the mirror. The man pretends to be afraid and for a second or two I see the face of a woman, watching.

  The blood in my veins turns to ice. I can’t move. My eyes are fixed on a dark empty space in the mirror where, a second ago, I’m certain I was looking at a reflection of Mum’s face.

  I turn round and a
trio of midgets stare at me wide-eyed. I lurch, left and right, fighting to see what is real amongst the illusion, but all I find is my own face. I twist a complete circle, scanning the figures in the tent—flashing faces, screaming, laughing, vanishing. And for a second I see it again—a glimpse of red hair and eyes, looking back at me. A face not smiling or laughing—which is why I notice—then it’s gone, and I’m not sure it was ever there. Except the cold in my bones, the thundering in my chest, tell me it was. Mum’s here. I can feel it.

  I race for the exit and stumble, landing on my hands and knees on the damp grass. Then I’m up and through the flap, and the heat and noise of the fair hits me like a wave. Bodies, lights, movement, people everywhere. I push my way through—first one way, then the other—but I can’t see her. Maybe she’s still inside. I turn round and Mina and Jay are standing there, frowning at me.

  ‘Laurence! Are you all right?’

  I stop. Take a breath and nod. ‘I’m fine. I just … you know, felt a bit dizzy. All those mirrors.’

  ‘You don’t look right.’ Mina steps closer. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost!’ She laughs.

  I gaze over the swarming sea of heads and shrug. ‘Maybe I did.’

  After the glare of the fairground, the park seems very dark as we weave our way towards the stage. The main band are about to come on—the Queen tribute act. There’s a huge painted banner draped behind the drum-kit, with Sheer Heart Attack written in jagged red capitals. It’s the name of a Queen album. I know because they’re Mum’s favourite band.

  I keep telling myself I couldn’t have seen her in the Tent of Mirrors. It was just my imagination, the lights and the reflections, the fact that I haven’t eaten in hours. I was hallucinating, that’s all.

  But I’m still searching the shadowy crowd for her, all the way to the front.

  I hoist Jay onto my shoulders so he can see better. He’s excited at being out so late in the dark, watching the lights pulsing and strobing across the gleaming drum-kit; the banks of amps hunkered, humming, ready to leap into life. Han is smoking a cigarette and grinning at me, while Amy sits on his shoulders, swigging from the bottle of vodka.

  ‘Glad you came?’ says Mina, standing close to me.

  I nod. ‘Yeah. You?’

  ‘I had no choice!’ She laughs.

  Neither did I, I think, as the stage erupts in a blast of white light, and the a cappella intro from ‘Fat Bottomed Girls’ erupts from the speakers. The guitar kicks in and the crowd around me goes crazy. Amy whoops and suddenly everybody is moving, bouncing, surging towards the stage. Jay grips my hair in both fists, but I can hear him cheering and whooping, copying Amy.

  The band are good—loud and powerful. Pounding drums and a bass that bounces my heart with every beat, while the guitars rip and growl like caged beasts. They sound just like the CD—well, almost. The singer is doing his best, but nobody can sing like Freddie, that’s what Mum always says.

  I turn to look at the faces around us, illuminated red and green by the stage lights. Then Jay kicks me.

  ‘I can’t see!’ he says, twisting my head back round by the hair.

  I give up. She’s not here. Besides, I’m supposed to be enjoying myself.

  After five songs I’m drenched in sweat, bruised and deafened—and loving every minute. On stage the singer steps up to the mic. ‘How you all doing?’ he says, trying to sound like Freddie Mercury, but unable to hide his Midlands accent. ‘Are you having a good time?’

  The crowd cheers as the band launch into ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’. I’ve heard the song a million times, but I don’t think I’ve ever really listened before. Maybe it’s the darkness, the night air on my face—or maybe it’s Mina, leaning against me, her hands holding my arms around her waist. I don’t know and I don’t care. I feel alive. I’m happy—having a good time, like the song says! And no—I don’t want it to stop. I am floating around in ecstasy—I want to hug everybody. I look at Han and think he’s the best friend in the world, Jay the best little brother anybody could wish for …

  And then I see him. I notice because he’s moving through the crowd, not looking at the stage. The man from the Tent of Mirrors, the one with the silver hair … and there’s someone with him. I can’t see who it is, because of the crowd and the lights, but it’s a woman. A tall woman.

  I lift Jay onto the ground and shout into Mina’s ear.

  ‘Can you look after him, I’ll be back in a minute.’

  ‘Where you going?’ shouts Jay. But I’m already pushing through the crush of bodies, my eyes fixed on the silver head moving through the crowd. For once I’m glad to be tall, but I still lose sight of them a couple of times. I’m stumbling, crashing into people, getting sworn at, shoved around, but I don’t care—I can’t lose them.

  It’s Mum. I’m sure of it now. Even though I still haven’t got a proper look at her. I can feel it—like I did in the Tent of Mirrors, as if there’s an invisible rope between us, dragging me after her.

  I’m aware the song has finished and the singer is talking again. ‘This is our last song,’ he says, and the crowd groans. ‘So let’s make it a good one—I want to see those hands in the air.’ The drummer starts playing the introduction to ‘We Will Rock You’ and everybody around me starts to clap in time, raising their arms between each beat. Even at six feet, I can’t see through a sea of waving limbs.

  I plough on blindly, in the same direction as before, and suddenly I’m out the other side, in a strange still place to the side of the stage. A giant speaker stack towers into the sky on my left, blocking out most of the stage lights and some of the sound. There’s a generator throbbing somewhere nearby, and a fleet of lorries waiting beyond the crash barriers, but no sign of the silver-haired man.

  I look back down the field, at the line of vans, now closed and dark, and I see him—a flash of silver under the shadow of the hedge.

  A moment later everything goes dark. I turn round and the lights on stage have dimmed to nothing. The crowd are still cheering and clapping, but the field is in complete darkness, except for the string of bulbs along the perimeter, barely illuminating the posts holding them up. I wonder what’s going on, then the sky booms and erupts into colour, trails of light fizz across the gasping crowd. I’d forgotten about the fireworks—the big finale.

  The sky flashes green and red, and for a moment I see two flickering figures turn and squeeze through the gap between vans up ahead. I shout after them, but my words are lost in the crack of the gunpowder. When I get to the spot there’s nothing there. Just a hedge, thick and tall, towering over my head. I wait for the next blast of light just to be sure, but there’s nothing, no way out. So where are they? People don’t just disappear into thin air.

  When the crowd starts drifting past me, I realize the fireworks have finished—the show’s over. I have to get back to Jay and Mina.

  Once again I find myself walking against a tide of bodies, and I can’t see where I’m going. Some people have got torches, but it doesn’t help when they shine them in my face and tell me I’m going the wrong way.

  Eventually I make it back to the place where I left the others.

  Except they’re not here. The grass in front of the stage is empty.

  I feel sick.

  Why did I leave him? What was I thinking?

  I start to run—shouting Jay’s name. I don’t know where I’m going, but I can’t stand still.

  People are looking at me—laughing and pointing. I stumble through them, all the way down to the fair, then back across the field, towards the stage. I trip and fall, my hands slithering through mud and rubbish. I get up and wipe the snot from my face, taste blood in my mouth and run on. A man in a reflective vest tries to stop me, shining his lantern in my face and telling me I can’t go back that way.

  ‘My brother’s in there!’ I scream, pushing him away and running on.

  I skirt the field again, trying to see into the shadows. Then a hand grabs my arm and I twist away, turning, rea
dy to face the man in the vest.

  ‘Laurence!’ Mina is standing in front of me. ‘Didn’t you hear me calling?’

  ‘What? Where’s Jay?’ I grab Mina by the shoulders. ‘What have you done with him?’

  ‘He’s fine. He’s with Amy!’ She pushes my hands away.

  ‘Where were you?’ I shout. ‘I came back and you’d gone!’

  ‘Laurence,’ says Mina, and puts her hand on my arm. ‘It’s OK. He’s fine. Calm down.’

  I’m shaking.

  I take a breath and wipe the back of my arm across my eyes. I realize how I must look, even in the dark—the snot and the tears.

  ‘We had to move cos of your mate,’ says Mina, starting to walk back towards the fairground.

  ‘What d’you mean?’

  ‘Too much excitement, by the looks of him.’ Mina stops and I see Han beside the Tent of Mirrors, sitting on the grass with his head between his knees.

  ‘You should have seen all the sick!’ says Jay, wandering over.

  Amy is standing some distance away, not looking too good herself.

  ‘It was right at the end,’ says Mina, shaking her head. ‘Last song. I think the hand-claps did for him.’ She mimes Han clapping his hands above his head, then vomiting onto the ground. ‘Don’t think the bloke in front was too pleased mind. We had to get him out quick. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.’

  I shake my head. ‘No! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left him with you.’

  ‘Who, him, or Romeo over there?’ She laughs, then frowns. ‘Where did you get to anyhow?’

  I open my mouth to speak, then realize I don’t know what to say. How can I explain it? Unless I tell her everything.

  A big part of me wants to tell her, but I can’t.

  So I just shrug and shake my head. It’s pathetic. I can’t even look her in the eye.

  ‘Right,’ says Mina. ‘I should probably get going anyhow. Get her home before she does the same.’

  I nod. ‘Yeah! Of course—sorry!’

  ‘Not your fault, Big Man.’

  ‘Will you be OK?’

  Mina nods. ‘Dad should be outside, he said he’d pick us up. Just hope Amy doesn’t chuck in the car.’ She nods at Han. ‘You gonna be all right with Han Solo there?’