In Pieces (18 page)

‘Why not?'

‘Hey, we haven't even had a beer. Come on, let's grab a couple and check out the scene. What do you say?'

‘It's late, I'm tired…'

‘Oh man, are you serious? It's Saturday night. Tomorrow's just sleep time. Don't poop on me, man.'

‘I've no intention of pooping. Just going…'

But Si's protests were smothered as Ricky thrust an open bottle of Mexican lager into his hand. Reluctantly, he followed the American away from the door and towards the centre of the party. A tall man sporting a multi-coloured bow tie crossed his path.

‘Hey, guys. How's it going? Ricky, are you looking after our friend here?'

‘Yeah, we were just going to check out what's doing through there.' He pointed to a darkened room into which Si had not yet ventured.

‘Great, great…' He raised an eyebrow. After a small pause during which he looked at Ricky expectantly, the bow tie asked, ‘So, Ricky, aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend?'

‘Sure. This is Si. Si, this is Richard,' said Ricky with mock formality.

Richard's face lit up. ‘Si, it's a pleasure to meet you. Well, we can't stand here gossiping, can we? There's a party to run. See you later, I hope. Behave yourselves.' Richard swung off into the throng.

‘Who's he?' Si asked.

‘Oh, that's Richard. Your host.' Ricky whispered, raising his eyebrows. ‘Come on. There was some good grass in here earlier. Let's see if there's any left.' And he disappeared into the murky den.

~

‘Who
is
that guy with the moustache?' The raven-haired girl in the latex dress spoke with a faint South African accent.

‘I don't know. Never seen him before. Presumably he's a friend of Richard's. The way he's greeting people, he clearly knows everyone.'

‘Not me. You know Richard?'

‘No,' admitted Si. ‘But I met him earlier.'

‘Gay, isn't he? Perhaps the moustache belongs to him?'

Si surveyed the flat's decor and had to agree that the South African girl might be right.

‘You gay too?'

‘No. I told you, I don't know Richard.' Si realised he might sound over-defensive, but this girl was irritating him. ‘Who are you, anyway?'

The latex girl ignored the question. ‘There's no need to make excuses for yourself.' She smiled sweetly through blood-red lipstick.

‘I wasn't…'

‘You should stand up for yourself a bit more. Don't let people trample all over you… He's only greeting everyone to make everyone think he's at the centre of things. I bet he's faking it and doesn't know any more people than I do… Or you, for a matter of fact,' she added disdainfully.

‘Hold on, I know some people here.'

‘Yeah? Like who?'

‘Well, there's my friend Jimmy for starters, he's a famous footballer… Or will be one day.'

‘Uh huh, and where's he, then? The famous Jimmy?'

Si looked around, but Jimmy had vanished long ago. Damn you, Jimmy. Pathetically, he was forced to admit that he couldn't see his friend.

‘Anyone else?'

‘Yes, actually… Ricky.'

‘Ricky?'

Si felt foolish. This was a stupid conversation. But he didn't know how to get out of it. And heaven knew where the American had got to. One minute they'd been chatting and sharing a joint, the next he'd gone. Si realised that meeting Ricky had livened up an otherwise moribund evening.

‘Ricky who?' the latex girl insisted.

Si wondered what her reaction would be if he answered Ricky the Surfer. Common sense told him it probably wouldn't help. He wished the earth would swallow him up. His earlier instinct had been correct. Dead on. He should have left when the going was just boring. But the atmosphere had changed and was becoming hostile.

‘Listen, it's been a pleasure, you know, brief but entertaining… I must go, bye.' And he turned back towards the front door. The sooner he was out in the fresh air, the better. How he hated parties; especially parties where he knew no one. And this was rapidly becoming one of the worst—a Party From Hell.

He'd only gone because someone from work had said it would be full of media types and good for contact making—but he didn't recognise anyone. Even the guy from
The Courier
hadn't bothered to turn up. More importantly, nor had Mary, despite promising that she'd get out of the office at a reasonable hour and meet him here. Jimmy had come along, but had stayed only long enough to meet a vampy blonde. If it hadn't been for his chance meeting with Ricky, Si also would have left hours ago.

‘Hey, hey, no need to run off. I was enjoying your company.'

Why was it strangers seemed to value his company when he'd lost interest in theirs? Clearly, a character defect he should sort out. Probably something to do with his mother… Si decided to be tough. ‘Well, perhaps I'm not keen on being enjoyed.'

‘Sure you are. You're just been prissy. Belt up. What's your name anyway?'

‘Si.'

‘Well, hello Si, I'm Lou. Pleased to meet you.' And grabbing his hand she shook it vigorously. Then when Si pulled away she swept back her hair and cackled away at her own joke. ‘Come on, Si, see the funny side…' Her accent was becoming stronger.

‘Yeah, hilarious. See you.'

‘Good idea, Si. I've had enough of this party too. Terrible. Let's go.' Before Si could protest she pushed him out the door and followed. They descended the dark staircase in silence.

On the street, as Si prepared to break off and find his way home, Lou grabbed his arm. ‘Where you going, Si? Another party? A rave?'

‘No, just home. I'm tired.'

‘Come on, Si, you don't look the party-killer type to me. I've got an idea, let's go find a drink.'

‘At this time? It's three thirty, nothing's open.' What would Mary say? he wondered. Stuff what Mary would say. If she'd cared so much, she would have turned up.

‘Ya, I know a little after hours place not far from here… Taxi!' she screamed waving frantically at a passing cab. Si's protests started to lose conviction and were overruled.

Settled in the back of the cab, Lou pushed back the weight of hair in what Si came to recognise as an habitual gesture. ‘Relax, Si. You never know, you might enjoy yourself.' She cackled again
loudly, and rolled against him as the black cab swung round in a U-turn and headed off into the London night.

Enjoy himself… If he was honest, that was something he hadn't done properly for a long time.

~

They entered the bar through an anonymous looking doorway off the King's Road. A ferocious-looking bouncer glowered at Si before recognising Lou. ‘Hey, babe, how's it going?'

‘Great, man, just great,' she answered, pulling Si after her down the stairs. They emerged into a wide area which must once have been a cellar. The whitewashed walls were hung with damask and richly embroidered draperies. Soft jazz smooched over the little round tables and long divans on which lugubrious youths wearing velvet reclined.

A pall of cigarette smoke hung in the air, making Si's eyes water. He needed a drink. It was the only way he could deal with his phobia of smoky rooms. There was nothing worse than a reformed smoker; he knew that and tried never to complain. But sometimes it wasn't easy.

Lou was already weaving her way through the tiny space towards the long wooden bar. Si followed. A few eyes trailed his progress but soon returned to their own immediate surroundings.

A tall boy, sprawled on a threadbare sofa, rolled a joint on a dog-eared copy of
Vogue
. His two companions, one dressed in red and the other in yellow leather trousers, watched as intently as vultures. The tall boy looked up as Si passed, carefully steadying his magazine, concerned that his artwork would be disturbed. ‘Careful, man,' he muttered but Si had already reached the bar. The boy returned to his task with renewed intensity.

‘What is this place?'

‘Oh, just a dive I hang out in. Great, innit?'

Si put on his I'm-a-man-of-the-world look, and nodded slightly. ‘Yeah, fine. I've seen worse.'

But Lou wasn't listening. ‘Two beers,' she told the barman, who was wearing a rubber tee shirt. ‘Cool shirt, Todd.' Si felt distinctly under-dressed in his smart-casuals.

‘Yeah, you like it?' Todd seemed pleased. ‘I like your outfit too.'

Clearly a club for fetishists, groaned Si inwardly.

Todd stuck two slices of lime in the top of the beer bottles and placed them on the bar in front of Lou.

‘D'you have any money?' she demanded.

‘Yeah, sure. How much?'

‘That's a tenner, mate…'

Si thought better of challenging the exorbitant price and handed over the note. ‘Cheers.' Lou sucked her lime and then sipped her beer with an expert air.

Si wondered what he was doing here with this weird stranger. He wasn't even sure he liked her. Distracted, he remembered something that had been lurking in a dark corner of his mind. ‘Do you know who Derrida is?'

‘No, never heard of him. Is he a rock star?'

‘No, I don't think so.'

‘Why do you ask?'

‘Oh, no reason… Listen, Lou, why did you insist on bringing me here?'

‘To loosen you up a bit. You clearly needed it a bit. I bet you never take risks or live dangerously. Come on. Admit it. You don't, do you? You're such a poncey nineties child, aren't you?'

Her arrogance irritated him. ‘This is stupid. What do you want me to say? That I jump off high buildings from a piece of elastic for kicks?'

‘No, you prick. That's not what I mean. I might have known that that'd be your kind of definition of danger… Good grief. Bungee jumping. Pathetic.'

‘Well, if I'm to be the object of your scorn, I'd rather not be, if you don't mind…'

But Lou completely ignored his attempt to leave. She just laughed at his pomposity and hurt expression. ‘Stop being such a jerk. I mean real risk. Not artificial, safety-standardised sport. I mean, have you ever broken the law just for the hell of it?'

‘No, I don't think so.'

‘What about stealing a chocolate bar from a shop?'

‘Yeah, maybe once.' Si was dismayed to find himself playing Lou's game.

‘Good, that's better. Maybe I didn't get you wrong after all.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘So how about something really daring? Have you ever killed someone?'

‘Sorry?'

‘You heard me. Killed someone. Another human being.'

‘You're sick. Of course I haven't.'

Lou took his hand and raised it to her lips theatrically. ‘Good. Nor have I. But maybe one day…'

‘Listen, Lou, it's been nice, but I really think I should be off…'

‘Si, before you go, let me ask you one more question. Okay?' Reluctantly he agreed.

‘Have you ever slept with a stranger? Someone you'd only just met, without knowing anything about her? Or, Si, would it be
him
? Only joking, of course it would be her. But seriously, have you slept with someone while only knowing her first name? Have you?'

Si hesitated. Despite himself Lou's intense gaze and soft-voiced provocation was getting to him. ‘No. I haven't.'

Lou smiled slyly, and Si noticed a small mole on her cheek for the first time. The flaw was indefinably sexual.

‘Would you like to?'

Si stayed silent but couldn't help hoping that this time Lou wasn't teasing him.

‘Of course you would. What hot-blooded male wouldn't? But you know that's a real risk these days… Aids and all that. Would you be prepared to take the risk…with me?' Lou prompted. ‘No protection?'

Si refused to be drawn. ‘Come on, Si, what d'you say? I won't tell you whether I'm clear before, but I promise to after. You can't say fairer than that.'

Si wanted to leave but the excitement dancing in Lou's dark eyes was infectious and he found it impossible to move away. ‘Si, you're being shy. Don't be. Go on, just for you I'll make it easy. I'll let you use a condom. Maximum protection, after all. Now, are you prepared to take the risk? Are you?'

‘Jesus, Lou, you're not being fair…'

‘Fair? Whoever said I should be fair? Grow up, Si baby. Life's not fair. I reckon I'm being about as fair as you'll get. I'm not even asking the difficult questions, like whether you're married or you've got a girlfriend.'

‘Why not?'

‘Why should I? It's none of my business. Now I'm about to finish my beer and then I reckon I'll head home. If you want, you can take a risk and come too. But if you don't want to, that's your choice. No doubt you're right. After all, I'm sure you've got responsibilities, and you've got to get up bright and early in the morning.'

‘Lou, I don't even know you.'

‘Of course you don't. That's the point, dumbo. Anyway, I'm not going to push you. Hell, I don't even find you that attractive. But I'm prepared to give you a chance. To prove yourself; to show you're prepared to take
real
risks. Think of it as part of your education.'

Lou downed the suds in the bottle and left the bar. As she passed the three boys rolling up another joint, she leaned over the magazine. ‘Hey, d'you mind if I have a puff?'

The boy rolling looked up, a stupid expression on his face. ‘Sure. Just wait till we finish getting spliffed up.'

But Lou interrupted him. ‘I don't need to wait.' And taking a deep breath she blew the flakes of broken cigarette tobacco and resin into the yellow leather lap of the nearest boy.

‘Hey, what d'you do that for?'

‘Mother…'

‘Oh noooo…' protested the triumvirate.

‘I told you all I wanted was a puff.' Her laugh sounded like breaking glass, and still smiling at her own joke she strode out of the club.