by West, Sam
“I don’t see a way in,” Nigel said, swaying slightly on his feet.
Jim scanned the high, steel-hoarding fence that ran for a good fifty metres parallel to the pavement. At the point where the fencing abruptly stopped, the pavement veered left at a sharp right angle, turning into one of the many side-roads that forked off from the promenade. The steel fence continued for almost another quarter of a mile, housing the building site within.
Jim reached out a hand to steady himself against a panel of the steel-hoarding. Everything was decidedly fuzzy; maybe those last three pints hadn’t been such a smart move. He’d felt fine inside the pub, it was all this bloody fresh air that was making him lightheaded.
“I remember that the main-gate used to be somewhere near here,” Jim slurred.
Nigel shrugged. “Maybe this isn’t such a hot idea anyway. I’m knackered, why don’t we just call it a night and go back to the hotel?”
Maybe my brother was right. Some fucking stag-night this is.
“Because I want to do the tour, if that’s alright with you. This is my stag-night, after all.”
“Okay, okay,” Nigel said, holding his hands up in mock surrender.
Jim rarely smoked and only when he was very pissed. Seeing as tonight was technically his last night of freedom, he had bought a packet especially. Sighing heavily, he proceeded to free a fag from the pack and stuck it in his mouth, patting his jeans down for a lighter.
Shit. He didn’t have one because he wasn’t a smoker. What a dickhead.
The clatter of high heels permeated through the tipsy fog that clouded his dilemma-addled brain and he lifted his head. His eyes seemed to take a few seconds to follow the trajectory of his head and he focussed on the two girls stood before him.
“Hi,” the tarty looking one said. “Need a light?”
But it wasn’t her he looked at. He barely noticed her fit body displayed in the shortest of skirts complete with bare legs, and the skimpiest of tops which barely constrained her ample cleavage, her torso protected by the flimsiest of little denim jackets. All he saw was her companion who was dressed in jeans, sensible boots and a khaki anorak. Her long, blonde hair spilled over the dowdy jacket and danced gently in the slight, sea-breeze. She was beautiful. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life.
Shit, I must be pissed, I never look at other women, I love Elise and I’m going to marry her…
“Are you deaf?” the tarty one asked.
“What? No, sorry, yes, I’d love a light.”
The girl pulled out a light from her handbag and it flickered into life.
“You two are here for the tour then?”
He looked at the tarty girl in confusion before the penny dropped. “Oh, yeah, right, the tour. Yeah.”
“I’m Tracy,” she said, “and my silent friend here is Georgina.”
“Hi,” Georgina said.
Her voice was like liquid silk, the tiny smile on those full, lipstick-free lips that of an angel.
“Hello. And this is Nigel,” he mumbled back, gesturing with his head to the silent Nigel who had moved slightly away.
Georgina smiled awkwardly in Nigel’s direction but Tracy blanked him. Jim was about to open his mouth to say something even more inane, like, wasn’t it cold tonight, or were they having a nice Halloween, because dear God, the girl called Georgina was actually making him tremble.
The deep rumble of his brother’s voice split the night, saving him from embarrassing himself further.
“There you are, you pair of sad fucks. I knew you’d be here, but I can’t believe you really are here.”
“Who’s the charmer?” Tracy asked, patting down her neat, red bob.
“My brother, Andy. Where’s Gavin?” he asked Andy when he had reached them.
“I left him in Laplands.”
Jim raised an enquiring eyebrow.
“Let’s just say I grew a conscience. I felt bad leaving my big brother to fend for himself with the computer nerd. It is you stag-night, after all, if you want to do some dumb tour, then some dumb tour is what we’ll do. No offence, Nigel.”
“None taken,” he replied.
Although from the clipped tone to his voice, Jim guessed he probably had.
“You’re on your stag-night?” Tracy asked.
“Yep, he sure is,” Andy replied on his behalf. “Broadgate has a few of them, don’t you know. But I’m free and single.”
Tracy giggled. “Is that so?”
Jim rolled his eyes. His brother was on form, as per usual. Or a complete man-whore, as Jim fondly thought of him. He wondered if Tracy would wind up as another notch on his bedpost.
As long as he doesn’t make a play for Georgina.
Jim didn’t manage to catch the errant thought in time.
I love my fiancée, I love my fiancée…
“So is this ghost tour starting already, or not? Soon as it’s done, the sooner we can get the hell out of here and back to Laplands.”
“Now hang on,” Jim began. “It’s nice of you to come and find me and all, but I’m still not going to any strip-clubs…”
“Hey, you boring cunts!” called a horribly familiar voice from way down the street.
Jim’s heart sank. Gavin. He was in silhouette and far away, but the broad shoulders, arrogant voice and the trying too hard to be funny, ‘ta-dah’ stance was unmistakable.
He swaggered towards them and Jim felt a strong surge of hatred. He took it out on the cigarette, sucking angrily on the smoke so that his lungs spasmed in protest, making him cough hard.
“You alright, mate?” Nigel asked, coming up to him and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Yeah.”
Nigel leaned in close and whispered in his ear; “If it’s any consolation, I hate the prick too.”
Jim couldn’t help but smile. Apparently, Nigel did have an opinion about stuff that didn’t involve his beloved computer programmes.
“Thought you were gonna stay at the club all night gawping at the totty,” Andy said, striding towards Gavin.
“Nah, decided to come and find you guys, get some fresh air and all that.”
Andy said something quietly that Jim didn’t catch, and the two men burst out laughing. Jim didn’t pay much attention however, he was more interested in the girls’ conversation.
“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” the beautiful one called Georgina was saying to the tarty one called Tracy.
“Will you quit being such a party pooper? You were the one that wanted to do this tour in the first place, remember? Besides, I think I’ve pulled here.”
Tracy glanced over at Andy and Jim breathed a sigh of relief that she wasn’t talking about him. Georgina caught his eye, and even in the dim glow of the street-lamps he could clearly see the blush that suffused her cheeks.
My God, she’s adorable.
“Er, excuse me, but he’s taken,” Nigel piped up, addressing Tracy.
“Relax, will you, I’m talking about the stag’s not-so-little brother. What are you, his keeper? Or has ‘ickle Nigel got an ‘ickle crush?”
“Tracy, come on, don’t be rude,” Georgina hissed at her friend.
The two men approached and Tracy threw Andy the biggest smile whilst twiddling a strand of her short, red hair.
Gavin elbowed Andy in the ribs and leered at Georgina, who thankfully didn’t return his broad grin. His stomach twisted into inexplicable knots; just the thought of Gavin copping off with Georgina made him feel sick.
For God’s sake man, you’re supposed to be getting married the day after tomorrow…
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, I would like to welcome you to the tour of hell.”
All six of them spun round and Jim stared at him in confusion.
Where the hell had he sprung from?
Gavin, ever the nob, burst out laughing. “Hello, little man, thanks very much.”
Jim stared at him, still confused as to where he had come from. There were no
doors in the steel-hoarding fence that he could see and he felt sure he would’ve noticed the man had he approached them from either side of the street. A few other people had passed by; it was impossible to miss them on this wide stretch of pavement.
But it was the man’s appearance that troubled him the most. Gavin was right, he was so little. He couldn’t have been an inch over five-foot, and he was stooped, like an arthritic old man. He wore a fedora hat that cast his face in shadow and a leather coat that would have been knee length on anyone else, but on him scraped the floor. The man looked so much like creepy Uncle Alex back from the dead that for a moment he thought it was him. Uncle Alex had died when he was ten, and it was not a loss that he mourned. Even though Uncle Alex had never actually touched him in an inappropriate way, Jim had always sensed his desire to do so in the way that only a young child could. The man’s sleaziness had been lost on his parents. He looked at the little man in disbelief, a chill creeping into his heart. Uncle Alex had worn a fedora hat just like that. And that very same coat, too. He shuddered. How strange.
“The name’s Eric. Eric Flu,” the little man said. “But you may call me Eric.”
Jim peered at him more closely, but the rim of the fedora was wide, and at over six-foot, Jim towered above him so all he saw was the top of the man’s head. But despite the dark and the hat, he could tell that the man possessed the same skinny, weasel face as Uncle Alex.
“What kind of a name is that?” Gavin asked with more than a smidgen of drunken contempt.
“The one God gave me, young man. Are you fine folk ready for the tour of a lifetime?”
“Yeah, bring it on,” Tracy said giggling, sidling up to Andy.
Andy draped his arm casually over her shoulder like they had been a couple forever and Jim shook his head at the sheer audacity of his brother. When Gavin approached Georgina in the same manner, she shrugged him off and came straight over to Jim’s side. She smiled shyly up at him and Jim actually felt his heart melt and drip down his chest-cavity wall.
“Follow me,” Eric said, leading them to the end of the steel fence where it joined the ice-cream parlour next-door.
Except now there was an alleyway separating the two places. Funny, he didn’t remember seeing that earlier when they’d passed the very same spot.
Gavin was in front, closely followed by Tracy and Andy, arms draped around each other, still giggling like love-struck teenagers. Jim and Georgina followed, with Nigel lagging behind.
“Spooky,” Gavin said, as Eric led them deep into the bowels of the alleyway.
“This is strange,” Georgina whispered in his ear, her hand lightly resting on his forearm for a second.
Just that smallest touch made his heart hammer and his mouth go dry.
“Tell me about it,” he whispered back.
Truth be told, he had gone way beyond uneasiness.
I’m scared.
The realisation was far from comforting. Half of him wanted to turn round and run, but he refused to give in to his irrational fear. This was his idea, after all. There was no logical reason for him to turn tail like a complete yellow-belly. Besides, even though he knew it was wrong of him and made no sense whatsoever, he couldn’t bare to leave Georgina.
Gavin and Andy were starting to heckle Eric in earnest. Jim wondered if they were feeling uneasy too and were being even more obnoxious than usual to hide that fact.
“So what’s your story, Eric Flu? You a builder on the site or something? You don’t look much like a builder to me. How comes you got keys for this place?” Gavin asked.
“Probably the cleaner out to make a few extra quid,” Andy said.
Eric stopped suddenly before a side door in the steel-fencing and Nigel almost walked into the back of him.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our destination. Are you ready to enter hell?”
Jim’s heart fluttered when Georgina leaned against him slightly. Even through her thick coat, he could feel her tremble.
“You okay?” he asked softly.
“Yeah,” she said, tilting back her head and smiling up at him. “It’s just a bit surreal, that’s all.”
“Tell me about it,” he whispered back, completely sharing her unfounded reservations.
Although it was hard to know for sure if she was smiling; her face was nothing more than a shadowy blur in the black alleyway. Instinctively, he reached for her hand and squeezed it. As soon as he realised what he was doing, that he was actually touching another woman, he quickly withdrew. Christ, this was turning out to be the oddest night of his life.
The party of six were silent when Eric Flu inserted the Yale key into the lock.
“Let’s go,” the funny little man said, stepping to one side to allow them all to pass through to the other side.
4.
“Ooh, I’m shitting myself,” Gavin said. “I’ve never been on a building site at night before.”
“It’s so dark,” Andy added, clutching his face in mock horror.
Tracy giggled incessantly at the pair of them and Georgina gritted her teeth in annoyance. She was acting like a child and not for the first time she wondered why the hell she was friends with her.
Neither was Jim’s annoyance at his brother’s childish, arrogant behaviour exactly hard to spot. Georgina quite understood; she disliked Andy almost as much as she liked Jim.
He’s getting married in a few days. And I’m not over my ex anyway.
So then why in the hell am I mooning over a complete stranger?
“I’m sorry about my brother,” Jim said.
“I’m sorry about Tracy,” Georgina smiled.
“They make a perfect pair,” they said at the same time, then laughed sheepishly.
Georgina’s eyes were beginning to grow accustomed to the gloom. It was still very much a building-site, but she could see the theme-park taking clear shape. The highest curves of the roller-coaster that had once been one of the biggest and most famous in Britain peeped over all the building work and heavy machinery. Despite the JCBs, mountains of rubble and scaffolding, a lot of the rides appeared restored to their former glory. Very little light entered the theme-park; the high fencing prevented most of the light from the well-lit promenade getting through. Whatever electricity had been rigged up on site, it sure as hell wasn’t turned on now.
At least the moon is full and there aren’t any clouds.
Eric Flu came to a halt.
“Yes, the moon is only full four or five times each century on Halloween night. This is a special night indeed.”
Georgina shuddered. Weird. Like he’d read my mind…
She didn’t like this guy one bit. It was fair to say that Eric Flu was seriously creeping her out. He was so tall, almost seven-foot and rake thin with it. He wore blue jeans and a raggedy blue pullover. Just like him. Yes, he really did remind her of a guy who periodically haunted her nightmares. When she had been just fifteen-years-old, some guy had accosted her when she had walked home from school on a dark, wintry afternoon. He had looked just like Eric Flu; tall, and skinny, with wild, straggly hair hanging to his shoulders and a look of madness blazing in his eyes. Her heart picked up its pace when she remembered how scared she had felt when that crazy guy had grabbed her and groped her. If it hadn’t of been for that kindly woman who had happened to be passing, God knows what might have happened. Sometimes, in her worst nightmares, her brain kindly filled in the blanks. And it sure wasn’t pretty.
“Whoopy-fucking-do for the special night,” Gavin said, yawning theatrically. “Is this going to take long? Because I’d much rather be looking at naked women right now.”
“Then do us all a favour and piss off back to the strip-club,” the geeky looking one called Nigel muttered behind her and Jim. “Some of us want to hear what she has to say.”
She? Georgina thought. Nigel didn’t strike her as the type to be so deeply sarcastic.
Jim spun round and even in the gloom she could see his eyes were wide.
> “My God, Nigel, full of surprises tonight, aren’t you?”
“What are you cunts whispering about?” Gavin boomed over his shoulder.
Georgina stiffened at his coarse language; the c-word never failed to get her back up. That Gavin really was a piece of work and she was baffled by the way Tracy was fawning all over him.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Eric said, clapping his hands together, “the tour has officially begun. This is going to be a different kind of tour. A tour of hell itself.”
“Oh my God,” Andy said, rolling his eyes, to the amusement of Gavin.
“I’m sorry, Eric, please excuse my brother and his oafish friend,” Jim piped up next to her. “Some of us are interested in this tour.”
“I know you are, young man, although I cannot promise your innocent curiosity will be rewarded.”
What the hell’s that supposed to mean, Georgina wondered. She didn’t get to ponder on the oddity of his statement for long as the gangly young-man began to talk, and the more he talked, the more confused and apprehensive she became.
“As I am sure you are aware, many lives have been lost in this theme-park. The reputation of the place became so tarnished that people simply stopped coming and it was forced to close. The current owner believes that time is a great healer, he believes that the public will forget all about those horrific, freak accidents that have blighted the fifty years that Dreamland has been open. All those poor souls falling out of or getting crushed by various rides. No to mention the horror stories that have been kept out of the press. The amount of human-beings that have dropped dead of heart attacks on these very grounds is extraordinarily high. There have even been cases of staff and customers spontaneously combusting.”
Gavin snorted derisively. “And how the hell do you know? You’re full of shit.”
Andy was the only one that laughed, but Georgina detected a hint of uneasiness behind it.