Chapter 5 #6
‘He uses a mixture of experiential role play and dynamic body-work,’ Brian continued, oblivious.
‘Sounds like a nightmare,’ Will said and, out of the corner of his eye, saw Kate giggle.
When last orders were called, Rachel and Tom joined them. They were finishing their drinks and preparing to go when Josie came thundering towards them from the depths of the bar. ‘There’s going to be a lock-in,’ she announced, eyes dancing. ‘Are you going to stay?’
‘God, no. I can’t keep my eyes open another minute.’ Rachel yawned. ‘Must be all this fresh air.’
One by one, everyone declined, saying they were knackered.
She grabbed Kate’s hands. ‘Kate, you’ll stay, won’t you?’
‘Well, I am pretty tired,’ Kate began.
‘Please!’ Josie begged. ‘I’m chatting up a guy at the bar and I’d like to stay, but not on my own.’
‘Which one is he?’ Kate peered towards the bar.
‘Him,’ Josie nodded at an astonishingly tall black guy, who stood head and shoulders above everyone else in the bar and looked rather lost. ‘He’s called Michael – it’s not his real name, but it’s what he goes by over here. He’s from Nigeria and he’s fierce lonely.’
‘Well…’ Kate longed for her bed, but she didn’t have it in her heart to refuse Josie. Besides, ‘Michael’ seemed in need of company, and she’d feel guilty if she deprived him of Josie’s.
‘Go on,’ Josie pleaded. ‘He’s a refugee, and they’ve stuck him here in the arsehole of nowhere, poor aul’ sausage. You’ve just been to Africa – you could have a chat with him about it.’
‘I suppose I could stay for a while.’
‘Good girl, yourself!’ Josie clapped her heartily on the back. ‘You’ll stay, too, then, won’t you, Brian?’
‘Sorry, Josie.’ Brian shook his head. ‘I need my eight hours.’
Chivalrous, too, Will thought, disgusted. Kate was only staying because she was too kind-hearted to let Josie down, and the bastard wasn’t even willing to keep her company.
‘I’ll stay too, if you like, Kate,’ he offered.
‘Oh no, I’ll be fine. Josie’ll look after me, won’t you? Besides, there’s only so much listening to people talking shite that a sober man can take.’
‘I’m perfectly happy. I could listen to you talk shite all night.’
‘Really, there’s no need.’
‘If you’re sure?’
‘Yes, go.’
‘Don’t worry about her,’ Josie told him, squeezing Kate to her side. ‘If anyone looks crooked at her I’ll punch their lights out.’
‘I believe you.’ Will liked her more by the minute.
‘No better woman!’ Josie assured him.
As Will got up to go, the singer from the band was standing at his elbow rather diffidently, waiting to be noticed – or, perhaps, discovered.
‘Mr Sargent,’ he said deferentially, ‘we’d appreciate any advice you could give us.’
‘I’d put an ice pack on that, if I were you,’ Will said mischievously, gesturing to the bump on his forehead from where he had clashed with the guitarist.
‘Oh, yeah, thanks.’ The boy looked down at his shoes. He seemed about to run, but he screwed up his courage and met Will’s eye. ‘Um, I meant about the music,’ he said shyly.
Will was torn between saying something meaningless and telling him what he really thought. ‘Ditch the drummer,’ he said and turned to go.
‘He’s shite, isn’t he?’ the boy nodded comprehendingly.
‘No more shite than the rest of you,’ Will told him brutally, ‘but he doesn’t give a bollocks about anyone else so he has no business being in a band.’
With that Will was gone, leaving the boy dumbfounded.
‘I didn’t want to say anything while Brian was here,’ Josie whispered to Kate, as she led her into the depths of the pub, ‘but Michael isn’t the only Nigerian posted here. He’s got a friend.’
* * *
God, Josie sure could knock them back, Kate thought woozily, as she staggered home in the small hours.
She had left Josie in the pub, with Michael trying to match her pint for pint.
Kate had got a reprieve when she conked out on the table.
Josie had offered to escort her home, but Kate knew she wanted to stay with her Nigerian and had assured her she would be fine walking back by herself.
Now she was regretting not having taken Josie up on her offer.
The countryside was pitch-black and she was a little spooked, walking as fast as her floppy legs would carry her.
She couldn’t see a thing, couldn’t walk straight and, several times, almost ended up in the ditch.
She imagined the re-enactment of her last known movements on Crimecall.
As she puffed up the hill, her heart was pounding, and it wasn’t only because of the steep climb.
She was relieved to see the house with its welcoming lights and all but ran the last few yards to the door.
Thankful to be home, she went straight upstairs.
She had to lie down quickly to stop everything spinning or she’d throw up.
Very quietly, so as not to disturb Brian, she opened the door and crept into the room.
He was sleeping soundly. She couldn’t find anything in the dark so she stripped off her jeans and got into bed beside him in her T-shirt.
Grateful to feel safe again, she decided to forgive him for the tap water episode.
He stirred in his sleep and she snuggled up to his back, then went out like a light.