Lazy Blood: a powerful page-turning thriller

by Ross Greenwood

  ‘I think I will have to just call him Toni though. When I told Darren my favourite name, he told me to ‘Jog on’. I still don’t completely understand that saying, but it makes me laugh for some reason.’

  Darren came back. ‘One last dance,’ he said and pulled Kristina up out of her seat. The band was now doing a bad cover of Sixpence None The Richer’s ‘Kiss Me’. Kristina stopped suddenly and leaned back into Will playfully ruffling his hair.

  ‘You should give that girl what she wants, or maybe it is time for you to jog on.’

  And then she was gone.

  Will put a hand to the crown of his head and sobered up quickly. His head was sweaty and a bit greasy but he could definitely feel a thinner patch there where she had touched him. Excellent, he thought. I’m going bald, more brilliant news.

  Carl slid into the seat where Kristina had been, looking as happy as Will felt.

  ‘I asked her to marry me,’ he exhaled. Will suspected someone else’s night had taken a tragic turn for the worse too.

  ‘You were right Will. Don’t say I told you so. She said no. Just like that. She could have at least said she will think about it, and then told me no later.’

  ‘Maybe she will change her mind.’

  ‘Unlikely, she said she has decided to go to Australia for a year. Find herself, travel and have new experiences.’

  ‘Ah, general euphemisms for shagging around. Quite possibly with some bronzed lifeguards in budgie smugglers. Very unpleasant to hear.’

  ‘Thanks for that Will.’

  ‘You should thank them. It will be their pleasure to do Deidre many times, probably in the ass.’

  ‘Fuck off Will.’

  ‘Pleasure.’

  ‘Beer?’

  ‘No thank you.’

  Carl took a huge breath and stated, ‘You are having one anyway, as we are going to get wasted,’ and he staggered and weaved his way through the crowd.

  Will wondered how wasted it was possible to be and still be awake. To his great joy it seemed the night though was finally drawing to a close. Darren, Dean, Kristina, Aiden, Agon and Alban came over, all slick skinned from dancing on the heaving floor.

  ‘Dean is going to walk Kristina back to the hotel. She is going to freshen up, for a night of indescribable pleasure at the hands of yours truly.’ He wiggled his fingers at Will, like Wallace, taunting Grommit. Will watched Kristina supporting Dean as they left the building. ‘I’m going to stay with my best friend for one more beer, we are off first thing tomorrow and I won’t be back for a while.’

  Will considered the phrase ‘best friend’ and then it was too late as his shout to Darren’s disappearing back of ‘Carl’s getting me one’ barely made it to the end of his table.

  ‘Deidre’s going to the toilet and then home,’ Sara said as she came to sit next to him. ‘I said I would go with her unless you particularly want me to stay.’

  Will considered the fact that even though Deidre had summarily dismissed Carl, she would probably still want to talk it to death.

  ‘No worries, I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  Carl plonked another pint next to Will’s virtually untouched one and forlornly wandered off after Deidre who was scuttling away to the toilet. Then Darren came back and put another one next to it. Sara looked at him in a disgusted manner.

  ‘Is this what you want Will?’

  Will looked at the table, missing the loaded question, and laughed, ‘I don’t mind this,’ he shrugged. He noticed a disturbance behind Sara and saw Darren on the dance floor squaring up to a wide, almost neckless bouncer. Darren’s back was to him but he could see from the set of his shoulders he was ready to go. The bouncer’s face was purple and angry, his expression determined. He was shorter than Darren but almost comically muscled. Three more bouncers arrived behind him, big men, as the two Kosovan’s came and took their place next to Darren. Even though they were not outnumbered, the other bouncers looked decidedly nervous, their eyes fixed on Darren, despite the hulking presences of his new brothers-in-law.

  The space around them rapidly cleared with people shuffling backwards fast, but with interested eyes. Will recognised two of the bouncers from school; Rudd and Kostas. No wonder they looked like they didn’t want to be there. Aiden suddenly materialised on the scene behind Darren and the thickset bouncer had to strain his head to look up at him, his neck not made for vertical movements. As the first look of doubt flashed over the stocky man’s face Darren’s fist flashed out and all hell broke loose.

  Aiden was right, he did feel detached from life. His friends were fighting now and he couldn’t be bothered to get involved. Stupid really, on your wedding day. Will got pulled back from his role of disinterested observer of the fracas by an angry request.

  ‘Are you even listening to me? When are we getting married Will, when are you moving in?’

  He was only half concentrating and smirked when Rudd’s head ended up wedged into what must have been a poorly constructed chair. The fight would have been over quickly if the police hadn’t arrived. Now it was anyone’s guess what was going on. He was distracted by the pandemonium behind him as he casually replied.

  ‘I don’t know Sara, I would have thought I would have to be really excited to want to do one of those things.’

  As soon as it came out of his mouth he realised he had said what was on his mind out loud and his head snapped back to look at Sara’s face. She didn’t say anything, simply stood. Her face was expressionless as she picked up one of his drinks.

  Strange thing, to have a pint poured over you. Quite shocking. She took her time too, like pouring a pint of Guinness. She then did the same with the other two pints, each one progressively colder due to its later time out of the barrel. Blinking beer out of his vision, he gasped with surprise. She gave him one last filthy look, but now with tears in her eyes.

  ‘Goodbye Will,’ she sobbed. And that, as they say, was that.

  26

  25th May 2002

  ‘North Acton, this is North Acton.’ Aiden and Will stepped off the train into sunshine. It was a little past five in the evening and it had been and still was, a glorious day. The promise of an excellent summer hung in the air and they were both in great moods.

  ‘Where is that numpty?’ Aiden laughed.

  Will looked up the empty platform as the tube rattled off. They were the only two to get off and the only other person there was a dishevelled man in his forties who looked like he had fallen asleep on a bench. The way he was perched at an angle seemed to defy the laws of gravity, although judging by the state of his clothing he may well have set in that position.

  ‘London baby!’ Aiden again laughed.

  ‘West London,’ Will corrected. As they walked past the snoring figure Will stopped.

  ‘Now Aiden, what has this fine fellow been up to?’

  ‘He’s had early beers.’

  ‘And now what wasteful incident has occurred?’

  ‘He’s peaked too soon.’

  ‘Correct.’ Aiden had been chomping at the bit all afternoon but Will had managed to restrict him to a couple of beers at Kings Cross so they weren’t partied out by eight p.m. He suspected it was more for himself than for Aiden. He was nearly thirty years old now and wasn’t quite the man he used to be. He remembered being in the Anne Boleyn when he was seventeen and some guy at the bar telling him he was thirty. He recalled thinking thirty was absolutely fucking ancient and why the hell wasn’t this man home with his family? That man from all those years ago probably had as much interest in a family as he did now. Not that he himself felt ancient, he just didn’t quite have the energy he used to and he suspected tonight would call upon all of his reserves.

  The station was at the bottom of a sloping path and he followed Aiden’s long stride up it. Living with Will had seen a resurgence in the old content Aiden. He seemed happier now than at any time since that terrible accident. With Will’s encouragement he had got a job as a postman and he absolutely loved it. The
y had opted not to mention the police caution for affray that he received for the brawl after the wedding and there had been no comeback. Typically Darren had somehow escaped from the melee and got away scot-free. They loved him at the Post Office too. He was reliable, conscientious and diligent. Even the money was ok.

  All the walking had trimmed Aiden’s physique up so he looked quite frankly a magnificent sight in a tight shirt. He had girls throwing themselves at him, oddly enough nearly all small ones. To Will’s mind Aiden never took up enough of the opportunities, but he said he was always worried about squashing them.

  Will, sadly, was envious. Obviously a little bit about the girls but more Aiden’s enjoyment of his new vocation. He had looked for work, for something different, but the money was always shit. So he now worked as a manager in a call centre for yet again, another insurance company. Each day he went in he could feel his spirit shrivel that little bit more. He felt like a conker, having come out shiny, new and beautiful, but then had been left on the side. Now he was wrinkling and drying out, getting harder and stiffer.

  Still, call centres were good places for meeting young impressionable birds. He was no nearer thinking about settling down than he had been at any point. His mum kept saying you will meet the right girl, a soul mate and then you will know. Well that was blatantly romantic bullshit. His arsehole brother had shelled out three kids now, each one presented to Uncle Will as a trophy to magnify his own empty existence.

  He suspected setting down was a mind-set. You got to a point where you started to feel old and then any old soul mate would do. Then you climbed on the treadmill of life, had children which turned out to be ruinously expensive little things who sucked the essence out of your sex life. Before you realised it, you hadn’t had any for a year and it was too late. Gone forever. You got divorced, lost the house you had been doing two jobs to pay for and end up like matey boy on the bench, lashed at tea time and snoozing in public. He stole a look back, gravity had won and the poor bloke had fallen off. He was now lying on his side, still asleep, legs still crossed.

  When they got to the top of the path it felt like they had come out into an industrial area. There was a huge Carphone Warehouse building stretching as far as the eye could see, but there, waving as he walked out of a depressing-looking pub over the road, was Carl. They shook Carl’s hand, easy smiles all round. He came back home regularly, claiming he was lonely in London, so they saw a lot of each other.

  ‘I know, I know,’ Carl started. ‘It’s not what you expected, but I live ten minutes’ walk from here. Darren is waiting at the flat. You’ll love it.’

  Whilst Carl’s social and love life were generally mediocre at best, his professional one was blooming. He had escaped Andersens before it went bust and was heading for partner at another huge accountancy firm. Will almost didn’t want to hear, but felt he should give his friend his moment in the sun.

  ‘So how’s the job going?’

  ‘Job is good, well, it’s dull and a bit shit really, but I got the promotion. They gave it to me in the end. You are now looking at the UK VAT Manager for Delaine and Todd.’

  ‘So what does that mean?’ Aiden asked.

  ‘One hundred and fifty thousand a year.’ Carl tried not to look smug, but failed miserably.

  ‘I feel sick,’ Will muttered.

  Aiden slapped Carl on the back and cheered, ‘Cool, beers on you wee boy!’

  * * *

  As they got to Acton high street, Will found he had been trying to work out how much that would mean taking home a month and found himself at the horrifying figure of around nine grand a month. His own plan had been to save around that figure up, go travelling to Asia and have a year’s working visa in Australia. He had reached the magic amount now but it had taken him four years to get there. Now he was getting on a bit and his mind was strangled with indecision and inertia whenever he thought about it. Spend it on what to all intents and purposes would be a beer crawl around Vietnam, or do the sensible thing and use it as a deposit for a house.

  The infuriating thing was the fact he had blown his ten grand redundancy money more or less on beer crawls around Peterborough. A couple of insanely expensive holidays to Ibiza and Majorca had done for the rest, along with his ‘free’ Renault Clio which seemed to consume money like he was throwing it into a log burner. He reckoned it would have been cheaper if he had just got a taxi to work each day.

  Carl opened a grimy looking door between two shops on a busy main road and they walked up some mucky looking steps to another dirty looking entrance. As Carl fumbled with his keys, Will imagined him opening the door on to a scene from ‘Trainspotting’. Broken tables, rubbish everywhere, filthy furniture and filthier junkies slumped dying on the ripped lino.

  ‘Wow,’ Will gasped as he stepped in. He had walked into a bachelor’s heaven. It was a massive open plan apartment stretching from one end of the shops to the other. The floor was a continuous sea of hardwood with an expensive looking modern kitchen at one end. The other end had three doors which he suspected would lead to bedrooms. In the middle of the room was a huge television that had been mounted on the wall. Everything quietly said elegant and expensive. A long classic looking sofa and two of the biggest armchairs Will had ever seen looked at the television.

  On one of these armchairs the back of Darren’s head could be seen as he watched the screen. He spun his chair slowly around like Blofeld in Dr No, but instead of the cat he was stroking a bottle of Jack Daniels. With a stony expression he looked from face to face.

  ‘Well, well, well. Look what the Carl dragged in.’

  ‘I bet you have been practising that shit since Carl left,’ Will laughed.

  Aiden looked as gobsmacked as Will. He went and sat on the other big armchair and put his feet on an amazing looking coffee table and he also simply uttered, ‘Wow.’

  ‘Get your fucking clodhoppers off that table you heathen, that’s a Vitra Noguchi. Cost me fifteen hundred quid.’ Carl rushed over and tried to lift Aiden’s legs up.

  It could have been Tutankhamen’s sarcophagus for all that meant to Aiden, but he removed his feet regardless. Will walked into the immaculate kitchen and opened the fridge door. There was a lot of booze in there and not much else. He raised an eyebrow at Carl and opened the oven door. As he suspected the oven was unused.

  ‘Carl, either you have the best cleaner in town or you must eat out a lot.’

  ‘I do have a cleaner actually,’ he replied.

  ‘Is she not allowed to clean doors?’ Aiden’s voice echoed around the high ceilings as though they were in a church.

  ‘I’m not sure what she does to be honest. She’s here for two hours, I give her twenty quid and she leaves.’

  ‘You would need to pay me more than twenty quid to peel your sticky Y fronts off the floor,’ Darren said.

  ‘Very funny,’ Carl replied. ‘I hide them before she arrives or I would never be able to look her in the eye.’

  ‘What’s for dinner?’ Will asked. He sat down at the large glass dining table that had been set for eight and picked up a knife and fork. ‘I could eat something the size of Aiden, lightly fried, with a few thick cut chips on the side and a selection of seasonal vegetables.’

  Carl took a bottle of champagne from the fridge and poured some into the flute next to Will’s hemp placemat.

  ‘Apologies sir, but I’m afraid we are all out of sautéed elephant. Popular dish, but we struggle to get the stock. If sir would like to peruse the menu I’m sure he will find something equally satisfying but maybe not as stupid, although we are getting good reviews for our Mule Mariniere.’

  Carl chuckled as he slipped what appeared to be Hungry Carlo’s pizza menu in front of him. Will looked at Carl and grinned. He had seen so much of him lately, that he hadn’t realised he had changed. His complexion was finally free of acne and despite what must be a terrible diet he looked healthy and fit. Still painfully thin, but there appeared to be some muscle there too. His clothes too, were
as perfect and understated as the flat.

  ‘Excellente Monsieur, with this culinary treat you are really spoiling us.’ Will was about to throw the menu down when he saw a picture of one of the pizzas. ‘Actually they look alright. Meat feast for me mate.’

  ‘Me too,’ Aiden shouted.

  ‘Me three,’ Carl added. ‘Well we are a classy bunch. Not tempted by the range of artichoke options I see. What about you Darren?’

  ‘I’m alright mate, not hungry.’

  Will wandered over to him sipping his champagne. It wasn’t like Darren to refuse a pizza. He gingerly sat on the sofa which looked as comfy as a park roundabout, but was surprisingly accommodating. Darren was staring back at him. He had aged Will thought. Again they had not heard from Darren for years. They didn’t even know where he was living, whether the baby was called Toni or not, or even have a telephone number for him. He had just got in touch mid-week via Carl and arranged to meet. Cloak and dagger as usual Will thought as he noticed Darren’s eyes had returned to their calculating state and it reminded him of the stare of his wife Kristina.

  ‘So how is married life treating you Darren?’ Will asked Darren who paused before he replied.

  ‘I don’t want to talk about any of that shit. I’m here to forget about all that. I’ve got a pass for a week and I just want to get fucked and live life.’

  Will and Aiden exchanged a glance.

  ‘Fair enough mate. You sure you don’t want to experience Hungry Carlo’s Lebanese fayre. It says here his kitchen has virtually no rats and if you find more than three cockroaches on your pizza, your next pizza is half price. You can’t say fairer than that.’ Will laughed trying to lift the dark mood that was hanging around Darren.

  ‘I said I’m not hungry,’ Darren growled. He took a deep breath. ‘Sorry. I’m tightly wound. I’ve just got a week and then I’m back to Afghanistan.’ He looked up with a haunted expression that Will thought he would never see him display. ‘Crazy shit out there. Sneaky fucking war. It’s all roadside IED’s, amputations, snipers and suicide bombers. Goddamn towel-heads. I just want a straight fight, not die burning in a fucking armoured truck, or worse,’ he looked at Will, ‘And end up messed up like my old man.’