by Liam Hurley
Timothy jumped into the driver’s seat, pulled the car out, and drove slowly into the darkness.
I looked to the entrance and saw my mum and dad waiting besides the large oak doors. I walked towards them and the doorman pushed the doors open. He greeted my dad with a handshake, and my mum with a hug. I smiled from the back of the party and he offered his hand to me, I shook it.
“Happy New Year.” He said to us all.
The three of us returned the sentiment. The warmth from this doorman made my mind wander to a long time ago when a certain doorman in the Gay Village wasn’t as up-to-date with his greetings. I stopped in my tracks for a moment as the memory of first meeting Erin flooded my brain.
“Come on James.” Mum hissed at me.
They were striding into the building so I jogged to catch them up. We were walking along the main foyer. There was a large desk with brass fixings to our left, an empty seat sat behind it. On the wall to our right was a huge leader board, inscribed with numerous names and numbers alongside them. It might as well have been written in Swahili for all the sense it made to me. I hated golf.
We took a left at the end of the foyer and my dad pushed the doors open below a large sign reading ‘banquet hall’. I shook my head, ‘hall’ would have been fine. As we entered I noticed two things, the room was huge, and there was a lot of people here.
Mum and my dad were instantly lost in a crowd of people, shaking hands and giving hugs out. I had no desire at all to be introduced to anyone. I scanned the room and locked my eyes on the far-left corner, there was a bar.
I made a purposeful start towards it, jumping left and right to avoid people dancing and talking. I noted that I was the youngest person here by a good twenty years. Eurgh I needed to drink.
I arrived at the bar and found myself at the back of a queue, thankfully it was only two-deep, (not so bad in the porn industry that one), so I patiently began to scan the optics for the options available. All manner of drinks were on offer. And if my eyes weren’t deceiving me there was a bottle of single-malt resting on top of the worktop at the back of the bar.
“Will there be anything else Mr. President?”
I was distracted by the barman’s question. I looked to whom he was talking to. It was an old white man. They were all old white men. He didn’t look like any of the Presidents I’d heard of. Maybe some far-flung nation.
“No that’ll be all thank you.” Said the President.
He lifted his tray of drinks and started to hobble his way back into the crowd. I darted into the space he’d just vacated. The barman looked at me with a slight shadow of shock creeping across his face. This was probably the first time he’d served someone not from the cast of Cocoon.
“Yes sir?” he said to me.
I span around to check who was behind me.
“Oh me?”
He laughed.
“Yes sir, what can I get you?”
“Erm how much is the single malt?”
“It’s a free bar sir.”
“It’s a what?”
“Free bar.”
“Woah don’t say it too loud, you’ll cause a stampede.”
“Well the tickets and fees cover the cost.”
“There were tickets for this thing?”
“You don’t know much about this place, do you?” he asked.
“Less than nothing.” I said. “So yeah, the malt please, and ice. Make it a double.”
The barman gave a little nod and turned towards his worktop. He turned back to me and placed a crystal glass half-filled with golden liquid in front of me.
“Brilliant.” I said.
“Will that be all sir?”
“Yes. Oh no wait. Why were you calling that guy Mr. President?”
I pointed behind me in the general direction he’d gone. The barman looked over my head.
“He’s President of the club.”
“And you call him Mr. President?” I asked.
“I have to call him Mr. President.” He replied.
“Erm excuse me, are you two going to continue to natter all evening or can I get some service?”
I turned around. A small woman wearing a peach suit was staring at us. Layers of make-up were encrusted into her wrinkles. She was glaring at us both.
“Sorry love, yeah let me get out of your way.”
I stepped back.
“I am not your ‘love’ young man, I am the First Lady of this clubhouse.”
She stepped into the space. I looked at the barman, he let his eyes flicker back at me for a moment but kept his lips slammed shut. I looked back at the First Lady.
“Sorry, I should’ve realised.”
“Yes, get me a gin and tonic.” She began her order. She stopped for a moment and looked at me. “Wait, why should you have realised who I am? Have we met before young man?”
“No, it’s just that you look like the First Lady. The first lady to even exist.” I smiled at her. She began to bluster. I nodded to the barman. “Thanks for the drink.”
I turned away from the bar and wrapped my lips around the glass. I tilted it backwards. The whiskey burnt my throat as it went down, but it was glorious. I breathed out and smacked my lips together all at once.
I spotted my parents seated towards the front of the room. I walked towards them and sat down to Mum’s left.
“Where’ve you been?” she asked.
“Bar.” I lifted up my glass.
“Did you not get us a drink?” she said.
“No, sorry I forgot.”
“I’ll go.” Said my dad.
“I’m on the single malt, get us another.” I said.
“Maybe you should finish that one first.” He said.
I looked down at my drink.
“Good point.” I downed it in one.
“For God’s sake James.” He said. “What do you want Di?”
“White wine please.” Mum said.
He stood up, kissed Mum on the forehead, scowled once more at me and walked towards to bar. Mum looked to me.
“So, Dad told me you’ve left the band.”
“Yep.”
“Any reason?”
“Just didn’t fancy it anymore.”
“And work?”
“Same really.” I felt guilt flush onto my face.
We sat in silence for a few moments. I looked up and saw for the first time that we were sat directly in front of the stage. A tux-wearing keyboard player was plugging his instrument in at the back. I thought of Tom. Tom writing out setlists in scribbled handwriting. Tom constantly making the most basic of logical errors. Tom my friend. I smiled. Then I felt another wave of guilt flood over me.
My dad returned and placed a tray of drinks down in front of us all. He nodded back to the bar.
“You should apply for a job here James, they need more bar staff, it’s overran there.”
I thought for a moment about calling someone Mr. President and offending old women every night.
“I’m good thanks.”
The speakers around us erupted with life.
“Ladies and gentlemen.” Came a voice from them. “Please welcome to the stage Tony Sharpe and the Moonlight.”
Ironically a golf-clap thundered around us as Tony Sharpe and his back-up strode onto stage. Tony Sharpe was a middle-aged man, his hair styled in the vein of someone trying to deny the fact he was balding, in a tux easily 2-3 inches too small for him.
“Thank you all.” He said into the mic.
I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing.
“Happy New Year. Let’s start things off with an oldy.”
Jesus what was an ‘oldy’ going to be to this crowd I thought? Hymns? Tony Sharpe turned to his backers and counted them in.
“1,2,3,4.” The keys were pressed down and his two back-up singers hummed into the mics. “Winter’s over, and Autumn’s gone, there’s a Spring in my step because Summer’s the one.”
Bloody hell. He was good. Genuinely really good.
He rocked back on his heels and then growled into the mic again as he continued the tune. I really didn’t expect him to be, but he was really a good singer. Mum turned to me and nodded knowingly.
I didn’t like that he was good. I don’t know why. I thought I’d be able to sit there all night and sneer. But the fact that he was good, probably better than me, really bugged me for some reason.
I stood up and grabbed my drink. Mum looked up at me.
“Just going for a smoke.” I said to her.
“Well hurry up, you’ll miss it all.”
I nodded and turned away. I walked back towards the entrance. Again, I had to dodge crowds of people. I noted the President stood at the back of the room talking to what appeared to be the actual Monopoly man. I pushed my way through the doors, turned right, and headed for the entrance.
Once I made it outside a chill wind blew around me. It was freezing. I looked left and right for a smoke area but couldn’t see one. I decided to take a walk with my cig. I lit up and headed to my left, scanning the building up and down. It was a massive place. The windows were thick and giant. I peered into a few of them to see the other rooms, each one seemed to be fitted with a wide variety of leather furniture. I’d estimate that two hundred cows were killed to make everyone very comfy after walking around some grass for ten hours.
I rounded the corner and saw light emitting from an open door. Stood around the source of it were Timothy, the barman from earlier, and a girl I hadn’t seen before. I couldn’t stop walking here I’d look strange, so I continued on meaning to round them. As I got closer the barman looked around and spotted me.
“Alright.” He said.
I noticed his voice was almost completely different here from when he was talking to me at the bar.
“Alright” I said.
“Hello.” Said Timothy.
“Timothy.” I nodded.
They all laughed.
“Ooooh Timothy.” Said the barman.
“Shut up.” He said to them. He looked back to me. “It’s just Tim mate.”
“Oh. Sorry. Why don’t you tell my dad that?”
“Good one.” He said.
“Eh?” I replied.
The other members of their group also looked dumbfounded.
“His dad’s Doctor Rowland.” Tim said.
The mood suddenly seemed to shift. Everyone’s backs straightened up.
“Did I miss something?” I said.
Everyone was suddenly very quiet.
“Don’t worry I know he can be, erm, a bit stiff sometimes, he brought me up.” I said.
The girl was the first to break.
“He’s scary.” She said.
“Scary? My dad?”
“Yeah.”
“No, he’s not honestly. Moody maybe. Judgemental yes. But not scary.”
“Well, he scares me.” said the barman.
“And me.” Said Tim.
I laughed.
“I’m Jimmy.” I said to them all.
“David.” Said the barman.
“Sophie.”
I smiled at them.
“It’s good to see some younger people.” I remarked.
“I tried so hard not to laugh when you were speaking to the First Lady before.” Said David.
“Yeah well she didn’t seem like the nicest person.” I said.
“Don’t even start Tim on it.” He said.
Tim looked like he was about to fire up but then dropped his gaze to the ground. It became very quiet between the four of us. I could feel the awkwardness.
“Erm, I’ll get going, shall I?”
They all smiled at me. I turned and walked back to the corner of the building. Behind me I could hear them whispering frantically.
“Erm Jimmy?” came Sophie’s voice.
I turned around.
“Yeah?” I said.
“Do you have a lighter?”
I nodded and walked back towards them. I dipped into my pocket and pulled my lighter out, holding it in the middle of the group. They all seemed to freeze for a moment. I looked at them all individually, no one seemed to be holding a cigarette. Eventually Tim sighed and pulled something long, thick and white from the inside of his jacket.
“That’s a big fucking joint.” I said.
Sophie giggled.
“Please don’t say anything to your dad.” Stuttered David.
“Oh, I don’t know, what if he asks me?”
They all looked at me, panicked.
“Joking, relax.” I said.
Tim took the lighter from my hands and silently lit the joint. He took a deep breath in and then covered us in a cloud of smoke. He closed his eyes for a moment. He took another drag and then pushed the lighter back towards me. I took it from him and put it back in my pocket. I went to turn away.
“Do you want some?”
I spun around. Tim was holding the joint at me at arm’s length. For the second time that night I was triggered into a memory. Of accidentally smoking Erin’s mum’s weed at the house warming. The night I met Daniel. The night it all started to unravel.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Weed.” Said Sophie.
“Thank you, Snoop Dogg,” I sighed. “Yes, fuck it, I’ll have some.”
I reached my hand out and grabbed the joint. I pressed it to my lips and took a huge hit. I let my lungs fill up slowly and opened my mouth, letting the smoke drift towards the sky. I took a few breaths in before taking a second hit. I made this one even bigger.
“Easy.” Said David. “It’s strong that.”
“I’ll be fine.” I breathed at him, as I passed the joint to Sophie. “I’ve done this before.”
I closed my eyes to take in the aroma. I seemed to have them closed for an extraordinarily long time. I felt my head slowly start to become one with the breeze. It was a nice feeling. I floated away with the cold breeze.
I opened my eyes. Tim was gone. David was gone. Sophie was gone. The joint was gone. Even the golf club was gone. I looked around. I was in a very bare room. There was a blinding white above me which reflected off the white walls and burned my eyes. There was a metal toilet and sink in the corner and I was lay on a very stiff bed with a blue rubber mattress. If I wasn’t mistaken I was in a police cell.
What the fuck?
Chapter Fifteen- Neon Green Lining
What the hell was in that joint? I stared deeply into the white wall facing me. It stared back at me. I was trying to stretch my mind back to the night before. It was beyond hazy. It was like trying to read a headline on a newspaper left at the bottom of a swimming pool. I could make out a flashing blue light, but I don’t know if I was just trying to put that in my memory to make sense of the whole police station thing.
I stood up and placed my ear against the solid blue door. I couldn’t hear anything. Ah shit what the hell was going on? I started to pace around the small cell. Fucking hell. My dad was going to kill me. I went to my pockets but there was no phone or wallet to be found. Shit.
Jesus Christ what did I smoke last night? It can’t have just been weed. My last clear memory was handing the joint to Sophie. And then I’m in the cell all of sudden. Did I leave the golf club? Did I go back in super high and make a tit of myself? Did the President get me arrested? Ah that sentence sounds cool.
Bang, bang, bang.
The slamming of a fist on the metal door snapped my mind back to reality. I looked at the door. I was about to say ‘come in’ to whoever was outside when I remember I was in a police station. I took a step towards the door and as I did it swung open.
A male officer stood behind the door.
“How are we?” he asked.
I looked him up and down. Seeing his face was bringing back something to me. Like when you have a dream about a place but don’t remember where it was until you go to that place again in real life. I squinted my eyes at him. I looked at his moustache.
“I… I threw a kebab at you.” I said to him.
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