Chapter 9
9
William
Back in the day, the club had been called Oasis and William had been a frequent visitor, just like all of his mates. Not that he let on, but he and this town knew one another well. William had grown up here, gone to school here. It was only later that he’d moved away. But although he knew these streets like the back of his hand, they had a different feel about them now.
He could still remember his teenage self, walking down Bridge Street on a Saturday night, with far too much beer in his belly, laughing and carousing with the lads. They’d had a favourite spot down by the river where they used to smoke and neck cider straight from the bottle. It was also where he’d had his first kiss, with a girl called Michelle. That was before Louise, of course. Good times. Yes, they’d drunk too much, been loud and no doubt obnoxious on occasion, but it had been fun, none of it had felt threatening – they were just having a lark. But William had been only too aware when the fun had stopped for him and it had all become desperate instead. When the object of a night out changed from enjoyment to seeking oblivion.
Some of the memories were good ones, but there were many more which weren’t and it wasn’t the first time William wished he’d never come back. But he’d made a promise, and what would he have to show for the last few years if he didn’t take the opportunity when it arose? It might be the last chance he’d ever get. He must remember that.
Of course, the club hadn’t been called Oasis for years now. It had had a number of names over time, the most current of which was Vipers, a name which William thought highly appropriate. And Stuart was the biggest snake of them all. It sickened him to think that Danny might turn out to be like him, only putting on a show of being respectable when, in fact, he didn’t care one jot how he made his money. Only time would tell though, and tonight William had a job to do.
It was Tuesday, traditionally a night when the club was quiet, so unlike on other days when most of his time was fully occupied, either on the door or dealing with club-goers outside, William had more opportunity to get a better feel for what was going on inside.
Most of the staff at Vipers were like William – people who wouldn’t necessarily have chosen to work there given their pick of jobs going, but who, like him, didn’t have the luxury of being choosy. Everyone, that was, except for Stuart. Somewhere in his late twenties by William’s estimate, Stuart’s habitual expression was middle distance between a sneer and a knowing arrogance, as if he believed that not only was he better than anyone else, but that he was also in possession of knowledge only he was privy to. It made William uneasy, and perhaps it was a sixth sense he’d picked up over the years, but William had been wary of him from the get-go. Now, knowing what he did, he was even more wary. Admittedly William hadn’t worked at the club all that long but he had a feel for when a situation was right and when it was wrong, when a situation would resolve itself or when intervention would be needed. And on quiet nights like these, William’s antenna had time to finely tune itself.
The first few hours of his shift were relatively relaxed, but once the night got going he was quickly able to spot the most serious contenders for making trouble. They had a hard edge to them, and whereas the rest of the punters were just out to have a good time, these few had eyes which glinted with something much darker.
He had been watching three men in particular, drawn to his attention by the fact that they seemed to know Stuart well. Initially he thought they were simply getting quietly and steadily drunk, but following a trip to the bathroom, William saw their behaviour had changed – from amiable and relaxed to something that seethed with a bright and brittle energy. It was something he’d seen on far too many occasions before. What was worse was that he was powerless to do anything about it. Unless, of course, anything untoward happened.
By one in the morning, adrenaline had been coursing through William’s body for hours, and with neither fight nor flight to make use of it, he felt jittery and nauseous, a raw headache beginning to gnaw at his temples.
The spark, as sparks did, flared briefly, but with so much combustible material in the room, caught rapidly. The fire flashed, and for William that meant he was up against five men intent on trouble. He was bigger than most of them and two immediately melted into the background, but it was the three he’d spotted earlier who were most likely to cause him problems.
For the most part, the altercations at the club which William had got involved in previously had been short-lived. It had been enough to point out that if their behaviour continued they were likely to get chucked out and, by and large, their friends convinced them to stop being stupid. Few of the arguments had ever been serious enough to warrant William physically restraining anyone. Tonight, though, he knew it wasn’t going to be as simple as a few quiet words. He had placed himself between two of the men, holding the bicep of the one on his right in a very firm grip, when Stuart suddenly materialised beside him.
‘Looks like you can handle yourself,’ he said to William with a snide grin. ‘But I can vouch for these fellas personally. They’re just a little excited, aren’t you, lads?’ he added, turning to them. ‘No need to get alarmed, William.’ He stressed the pronunciation of William’s name as if he thought his request to be called anything other than Bill was frankly ridiculous. As if he was doing William a favour. It made William want to prove just how well he could handle himself.
There was a moment when things could have gone either way, but then the ringleader gave a dismissive shrug and leered at William. ‘All right, Grandad, I’m cool,’ he said, wriggling his arm in an attempt to release William’s grip.
William let go, ignoring the jibe. None of these men were worth losing his job over. But he waited until he was sure they had cooled off before moving away. He was well aware, however, that Stuart’s gaze had moved with him, and he was now regarding William intently. His message was clear. These men were his, and therefore untouchable. If William had any doubts about Stuart before, then this little encounter had caused them to multiply rapidly.
The thing about people like Stuart was that they considered themselves invincible. It probably never occurred to him that William might talk to their boss if he had any concerns, at least not until William mentioned the possibility. Now William was even more determined to follow it up. If he was to make any difference at all, he had to give it a try. He’d never forgive himself if he didn’t.