The Downfall Series Box Set

by Edie Baylis

  He picked up his pint of cider and wondered where his mates were. It was almost like everyone was avoiding him and he wasn’t sure why. The only person he’d really seen was his cousin Stuart, but they’d never really liked each other much.

  He hadn’t played with the band for ages either. They needed to practice and catch up for lost time, but he hadn’t heard back from any of them, even though he’d left several messages. It was all very strange. They’d better hurry up though as he’d get the booking for their UK tour confirmed soon.

  Paul sniggered to himself. He’d phoned up his agents in London last week and they’d pretended they didn’t know who he was! They’d actually thought he was joking when he’d said he was Alice Cooper. Who on earth did they think he was then, the bunch of jokers?

  Sipping his pint he took a cigarette out of the packet. At least he’d seen Jane, even though he hadn’t got the chance to speak to her. He’d been just about to go and talk to her when she’d disappeared and he couldn’t find her anywhere after that.

  She’d probably had another argument with that stupid gorilla she was wasting her time with. What on earth was she doing with that nutter Seth anyway, he wondered angrily.

  Paul exhaled slowly. He refused to get stressed. Besides, once he’d asked Jane to marry him again it would all work out. Then they’d get back to normal like before.

  He grinned thinking back to when Jane had finally agreed to go out with him after she’d split with Mark. Admittedly, she’d taken a bit of persuasion, but after several weeks of chatting her up at the Barrels and many crates of cider, he’d managed to win her over. It might have been his motorbike that finally clinched it, which reminded him, where was his bike? Did he still have it? The other factor was the band. Now he was famous, she’d definitely want him back wouldn’t she?

  Paul smiled, picturing Jane in her skin-tight shiny leggings and tiny leather skirts, then frowned. Those types of clothes were too much to wear off the stage. Far too much. He’d kept telling her, but would she listen? No, she fucking well wouldn’t.

  He took another swig of his pint.

  “Alright Alice!” someone shouted, laughing loudly.

  Paul ignored them. Some fans were just plain weird. He’d begun to get used to this strange adoration and let it wash over his head these days realising he’d better get used to this fame thing. Finishing his pint, he walked up to the bar and shouted up another.

  “Alice! Alice! Who the fuck is Alice?”

  Baring his teeth, Paul made a growling noise as the jeering chorus began again from the group around the bar. He knew his full-faced black eye makeup and white powder sent the fear of God into everyone. Sneering, he turned his back on the laughter and returned to his seat. Let them laugh.

  Him and Jane had got on great and had a good laugh until she’d started getting the hump, saying she didn’t want to go out with him anymore. Apparently he kept on about her clothes being too revealing, that she wore too much makeup and that she couldn’t talk to anyone without him moaning.

  He didn’t understand what her problem was. Buying her an engagement ring, he’d explained quite clearly she didn’t need to wear that stuff anymore. Not now she had him. She could also take her makeup off. He’d thought her completely insane when she chucked the ring away. Then they’d started arguing all the time. Every time he mentioned she was wearing the wrong things, or tried to wipe her makeup off, she went mad.

  She’d said they were over. Finished. Then she refused to talk to him at all. How could they be over? They were getting married for God’s sake.

  He’d walked into the Barrels wanting to surprise Jane, but she’d only gone and got back with that moron, Mark. Kissing him and everything she was. It had made him really cross.

  Going into the women’s toilets so he could talk to her and sort it all out, he’d waited for over an hour before she’d finally come in. She’d been wearing those skin-tight leather trousers again and everyone had been looking at her. She didn’t need to do that for him and he’d said so. Why that had upset her so much he didn’t understand. After all, surely it only proved how much he’d loved her otherwise he wouldn’t be bothered would he?

  Jane had stormed out of the Barrels across to a block of flats opposite. He’d run after her, but she’d just screamed at him to leave her alone. He hadn’t meant to push her down the steps though. Everyone knew that didn’t they?

  Neither had he meant to break her cheekbone.

  She’d been angry. Getting off the floor, she’d grabbed his hair and ripped a big clump directly out of his scalp as she’d smashed his head through the glass door of the flat’s entrance.

  However, the fall had taken a big chunk of skin off Jane’s face, so at least she couldn’t wear makeup for a while. Silver linings and all that. Besides, that was ages ago and she didn’t even have a scar anymore.

  He’d tried to make it up to her by following her around, but she hadn’t liked that either and kept telling him to get lost. God, he’d have done anything if it meant she’d take him back. He still would. Being without her had made him quite sick.

  Taking a swig from his new pint, Paul glanced out of the window, wondering whether he should get some more fags, but decided against it in case he got mobbed by fans. That seemed to be happening more and more lately.

  Paul breathed out angrily. Eventually that brain-dead Mark bloke had got angry with him following Jane about and threw him down the steps of the Barrels. The fact he’d had his arm broken hadn’t particularly fazed him, but not being able to play his guitar for a while had completely pissed him off. It hadn’t changed his feelings for Jane though.

  But then some fucker had tried to run him over. He’d been walking down the road back from town one night when he heard a car screaming at full throttle towards him out of nowhere. It mounted the pavement and he’d had to jump over a wall otherwise he’d have been totally mangled. The car had then pulled back on to the road and sped off.

  Of course there must have been something wrong with it. Perhaps the steering? It had been weird though, because for a minute he’d been sure it was Jane’s car. Obviously it couldn’t have been because she wouldn’t have done that to him.

  He’d been overjoyed however, when after he’d been home an hour, he’d opened his bedsit door to find Jane. He invited her in, but she didn’t look well. Her eyes were glazed and she’d seemed angry, so he asked who’d upset her, but he couldn’t get any sense from her. She was saying really confusing things, like it was him who’d upset her. How could he have upset her? He loved her.

  All he could remember after that was smiling as she came towards him. He’d waited a long time to get her back.

  Paul shook his head. He didn’t really like thinking about what had happened after that.

  Waking up in the hospital, he’d been subjected to loads of questioning by the police who wanted to know who’d attacked him. He’d no idea, but learnt he’d luckily been found within minutes of being thrown in the canal. Apparently he’d been knocked unconscious with an object and should have drowned.

  The strange thing was they’d found a weird carving on his shoulder. Paul fingered the ‘J’ shaped scar absentmindedly. He must have got cut on something as he fell into the canal.

  Yes, that was exactly what must have happened.

  The police though had other ideas and asked him even more questions, keeping on and on at him. In the end he was convinced the constant hassle and pressure from them was what caused him to lose it and end up in hospital. All of this was their fault.

  Paul looked down at his pint again and smiled. It was all going to be ok now he was well and back in town.

  “HURRY UP!” JANE MUTTERED through gritted teeth and tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. She didn’t mind doing this, but did mind that she’d been dumped with such a crap motor.

  Why on earth they’d chosen that bloody Datsun Seth had won at cards last week for this job when they’d got a whole host of motors at their disposa
l was totally beyond her. It had as much poke as a cow pat.

  She wasn’t happy about the dodgy plates either. She’d got several which had already proved to be safe, but now not only was she driving a bag of shite, but one with crap plates. Apparently it was an emergency.

  Revving the engine, she sparked up yet another fag and rolled her eyes. Come on, come on! How much longer would this take? Her fingers drummed again on the leopard-skin steering wheel cover as she glanced into the rear view mirror. No police so far, but it was only a matter of time.

  Spotting movement from the door of a terraced house opposite, Jane left the engine running and jumped from the car to open the boot. After the struggling, trussed-up man had been unceremoniously dumped inside, everyone got in.

  “Floor it!” Seth shouted as he hopped into the passenger seat.

  Quickly glancing in the rear view mirror, Jane slammed the accelerator to the floor. With a screech of tyres, the car flew off the kerb and swerved onto the road whilst Digger and Dodge frantically tried to close the back doors.

  Seth placed his hand on Jane’s thigh. “Turn left.”

  Smiling, she took the corner at a ludicrous speed and raised her eyebrow mischievously on hearing the cargo in the boot slam into the wheel arch.

  “Fucking hell!” Digger yelled as his head hit the window.

  Jane laughed as she turned the stereo up. “What’s the plan?”

  Seth didn’t reply directly, but his directions to woods ten miles away gave her the answer.

  Reaching the lane Jane killed the headlights and manoeuvred the Datsun down the dirt track as best as she could by the moonlight. The contents of the boot kicked from the inside and she sighed, hoping this wouldn’t take long. She’d had a long day at the factory.

  After planting a quick kiss on Jane’s lips, Seth opened the door. “Just hurry up!” she muttered and reached inside the door pocket, watching from the corner of her eye as Seth’s fist slammed down within the contents of the boot.

  The men passed by the drivers’ window dragging the unconscious man by his feet across the ground as he began his final journey and as they disappeared into the woods, Jane swigged from the quart bottle of vodka she’d had the sense to bring. She fumbled around for the map light only to find even that didn’t work the piece of shit.

  Groaning, she rummaged blindly in her bag. Locating some pills she held the bottle up in the moonlight to see what they were. Unable to decipher the label in the gloom, Jane shrugged and tipped a few into her mouth as she sat back to wait.

  SETH SCOWLED AS THEY walked into the bar at the King’s Head. The scruffy room was even gloomier than usual, thanks to the blackout blinds and tightly closed moth-eaten curtains used for hiding the nightly lock-ins. Despite the late hour many people populated the blue upholstered bench seats and rickety wrought-iron tables.

  He glanced at his watch. He was stressed. Really fucking stressed. He’d only got five hundred quid for offloading that bloke tonight. If people now expected him to deliver that sort of thing rather than collect a bit of cash or gear, then he’d put his prices up. Still they were back now and thankfully when Lee had clocked Jane reversing the Datsun into one of the lockups out the back he’d started pouring the drinks.

  From his place at the bar Seth clocked Dodge and Digger had moved to the dartboard and picked up the darts to have a game. Well, they could come over and get their own drinks, he thought angrily. He wasn’t a fucking waiter.

  Sparking a fag up, he willed himself to get out of this goddamn awful bloody mood and glanced at Jane sitting on one of the bench seats, putting on lipstick. He grinned, but then his smile fell. It wasn’t just the money for the job that was stressing him out. It was more to do with the fact that he knew he should tell her what had gone on earlier, but didn’t know where to start. He just wished he hadn’t spoken to that stupid bitch, Debbie this morning or in fact, ever.

  Seth had guessed Debbie was obsessed with him, especially after that party a few weeks ago, but he’d managed to completely avoid her since then - until today. He’d even got one of the others to serve her in the Barrels, but he hadn’t thought in a million years she’d try to pull a stunt like this. The girl was totally cracked. But what if Jane didn’t believe him? She’d go totally berserk and leave him for sure. The story was feasible after all... He couldn’t risk it. Not in a million years.

  Seth ran his hand through his hair, knowing he should have told Jane about this in the first place, but it was too late now.

  Lifting the drinks from the sticky beer towels, he handed one to Jane. Placing himself beside her he took a gulp from his drink and languidly draped his right arm around her shoulder. Kissing the side of her head, he stared straight ahead and absentmindedly fiddled with a lock of her hair.

  Jane looked up. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing.” Seth’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was worried. Very worried. If he didn’t nip this in the bud, Debbie would balls his life up and then he’d have to kill her.

  Taking another slug of lager, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve as waves of sickness washed over him.

  THIS MORNING SETH HAD walked up from the basement into the bar for a cup of tea after Jane had left for work and that stupid slag had literally jumped on him.

  Debbie had looked up at him with her ghastly panda eyes and rested her hand on his arm. “Are you ok?”

  Jerking his arm away he’d glared at her.

  “Look,” she’d hissed, her eyes flickering slightly. “I need to talk to you.”

  “What about? I don’t think I’ve anything to say to you.”

  “Can we go to your room or something?”

  Yeah, right! Nice try! “No we can’t. If you’ve got anything to say, talk to me here.”

  Debbie had bit her lip, looking worried and glanced around at the others in the bar. “I don’t really want to talk in front of everyone.”

  He’d looked at her with a bored expression on his face. “What’s the problem?”

  She’d touched his arm again. “Please....”

  Seth had sensed people beginning to glance over. “Come over here.” Grabbing his tea, he walked to a small wooden table near the dartboard and sat down, stretching his long legs out. “Right. What do you want?” He stared at Debbie as she took the other chair.

  Fumbling with her bag clasp, Debbie’s sunny demeanour disappeared. She hadn’t been able to look him in the eye.

  “Well?” Seth had prompted, getting annoyed. He hadn’t time for this.

  She’d finally met his eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

  “And?” What the fuck was she telling him for? He hadn’t been in the mood to counsel some dopey tart. Especially her.

  Debbie had paused. “And it’s yours...”

  Seth had laughed loudly. “What in Christ’s name are you talking about?”

  “It’s yours.”

  Was he hearing things? “How the hell can it be mine you silly bitch!”

  “Don’t you remember? A few weeks ago? Back at the party?”

  “Now, hang on a minute!” he’d yelled, before reining himself in and lowering his voice. “Nothing happened!”

  A small smile had formed on Debbie’s fat lips. “Oh yes it did. Don’t pretend you can’t remember. It happened alright and you fucking loved it!”

  Seth had sat back in confusion. What the fuck? He hadn’t shagged her. He knew he hadn’t shagged her.

  “I’m most definitely pregnant and it’s most definitely yours!”

  “You must be imagining it!”

  “It’s you who’s imagining nothing happened. You certainly weren’t imagining it that night, I can tell you!” she’d whispered whilst his fist had clenched under the table.

  “Now, how will you explain this to Jane?” Debbie had smirked. “Or shall I tell her for you?”

  Standing up, Seth had swiped his pint mug of tea from the table leaving it to smash on the floor. “You fucking well leave Jane out of this. I don’t know what
game you’re playing, but I wouldn’t if I were you.”

  Giving her one last look, he turned and walked out of the bar, slamming the door and knew that everyone had looked up when Debbie burst into tears.

  “PENNY FOR THEM?” JANE’S finger traced the line of Seth’s jaw through his neatly-trimmed beard, snapping him from his thoughts. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

  Seth planted a kiss on her lips. “I’m fine,” he lied. Fine was the blatant opposite of how he felt. He’d spent hours today going over the night of the party. Over and over and over. Maybe Debbie had been in there for ages and Digger and Tony had got it wrong? His forehead glistened with beads of sweat at the thought. NO! He hadn’t touched her!

  He wasn’t sure what sort of game the tramp was playing, but he intended to find out and fast. He needed to tell Jane what had really happened, but what would happen if she didn’t believe him?

  Seth closed his eyes in frustration. He’d be the first to admit he wouldn’t believe her if it was the other way around.

  “Seth, what’s wrong?” Jane asked.

  “Stop going on will you!” he roared, immediately regretting it. “Sorry. I’m sorry, baby.” Seth ran his hand gently down Jane’s face. “I’m just hungover and tired. Another drink?”

  Without waiting for a reply Seth walked to the bar, feeling Jane’s eyes on his back. He realised she knew something was bothering him and he needed another drink. He needed more than fucking one.

  As Seth waited for the drinks, he came to the conclusion to forget all about Debbie. Why was he letting her stupid games bother him anyway?

  The stupid bitch was obviously mad.

  FOUR

  DEBBIE SAT ON THE PARK bench sipping at a can of coke and wished she’d got something to put in it, like vodka. Or better still, Bacardi.

  It had been a few weeks since she’d told Seth she was pregnant and he’d avoided her like the plague. To be totally truthful, she wasn’t remotely happy how things had panned out. She’d thought it was all wrapped up and would be relatively simple, but it hadn’t been.