The Valkyrie (9 page)

“Alright before
the karaoke let’s play a game.” Glory said.

“Let’s play
Massacre.” Honour said excitedly.

“Yes.” Glory
said.

“What’s that?”
asked Bea.

“We pick groups
of mortals who we’d happily murder for the sake of it because
something about them pisses us off. I’m not sure that it’s
technically a game, as I don’t know how you win.” Honour said.

“You win by
actually doing it.” Liberty said solemnly.

“It has
happened before.” Glory said.

“Bubonic
plague…” Liberty said.

“Never play
this game with Ares or Fortune. They’ll both carry it out. Even I
draw the line at that, well for the time being anyway.” Glory said
winking.

“Why did you
wink at me? What’s wrong with you? Right, I’ll go first… white guys
with dreadlocks.” Honour said.

“Nice choice.
They all deserve to die.” Glory said.

“Those women on
public transport who sit on the aisle seat and put their bag on the
other one and when you ask if the seat is taken they only move
their legs so you can take their bag seat instead of moving along.
I despise them.” Liberty said.

“That was
really detailed. Adults who ride scooters, oh and people who cycle
on pavements. I have to try really super hard not to kick their
wheels when they go past so that they fall under taxis.” Glory
said.

“Tourists.”
Honour said.

“Is that purely
in London or globally?” asked Liberty.

“Globally. Stay
at home with your stupid fucking backpacks.” Honour said.

“People who
describe themselves as funny.” Glory said.

“I don’t know
about that one.” Liberty said swaying a bit.

“Bea, who do
you want to die hideously?” asked Liberty.

“Well no one.”
Bea said to which the others all look at her curiously.

“Really? Is
that because you don’t really care about the mortals enough to
dislike any of them?” asked Honour.

“Well the
mortals have their faults and do cruel things, but each of them
feels and in their own way tries to redeem their shortcomings.
Their ability to want to be better, to attempt to improve, to
transcend their own limitations is admirable. Should we not follow
their example and try to be better also, try and be better to them,
try and be better for them?” asked Bea. Honour and Glory both
laughed uproariously whilst Liberty looked mildly ashamed as she
should know better.

“So the heavens
do have mercy. Someone should let the mortals know, they’ve been
gagging for it for centuries.” Glory said.

“The real
question is how many of them redeem themselves. Your sentiment is
noble, the reality reprehensible. As Valkyries we are in the
business of assuming that they can transcend their limitations to
become brighter and bolder through our efforts in Valhalla, so I
must agree with you to an extent, although morally they are mostly
empty. Don’t expect any sympathy for your argument with these two,
Glory is a highly functioning sociopath and Honour is a nihilist.”
Liberty said entering into drunken polemic territory.

“Do you really
hate them all? How can you hate them all? They have done nothing
other than exist?” asked Bea.

“Exactly they
exist, and I hate everything.” Glory said triumphantly.

“Hate is too
strong a word. I’m ambivalent.” Honour said from her ivory
tower.

“I pity them.”
Liberty said.

“Why do you
pity them? They are not restricted by the certainty of longevity
like us. They can’t be bored of existence like Glory?” asked
Bea.

“I pity them
because they do want to be more but they never will and they do not
know it, they cannot see their very lowliness. That makes me sad,
very sad indeed. They almost deserve better than us, but then my
father made them to be like us and to aspire to our ideals but
they’ll never get there. Millions have died in pursuit of true
liberty, how many have been moved to tears by the prospect, how
many ‘admirable’ speeches in my name and yet here I am sat here in
a pub in Hackney trollied, with half of Columbia’s most profitable
export up my nose. In the grand scheme of things humanity will
never be much.” Liberty said.

“Neither will
Glory.” Honour said jokingly.

“Of course I
won’t, I’m a waste of fucking matter.” Glory said. Bea could not
work out whether she really meant that statement.

“Will humanity
never become anything of note because they do not have liberty;
they do not truly have the choice to be better? Is Liberty that
constrained? Does Liberty fail them?” asked Bea.

“I fail
everyone. Bea, have you always been this deep?” asked Liberty but
Bea had started pouring another round of shots.

The karaoke
began and one brave soul got up and sang
I Can’t Get No
Satisfaction
before going back over to her pretentious
girlfriend. Honour convinced poor Bea to duet with her (Bea
actually had a lovely singing voice) and had nominated them for
I Need A Hero
.

“Glory, this is
bad.” Liberty was startled. She had had a moment of clarity as a
vision pushed its way through into her mind and past the booze.

“What the
tequila?” asked Glory as she swilled some around her glass looking
sceptically at it.

“No, can I not
catch a break? I’m way too drunk to deal with him and all his
bullshit.” Liberty said as the pub doors opened and a beautiful,
blond Greek god stepped in. Liberty and Apollo locked eyes.
Unnoticed by any of the Valkyries was the simultaneous opening of
the backdoor to the kitchen and from that evil doorway stepped a
youth who wouldn’t have got into the pub without ID. He was soft
cheeked and wore a pair of rare New Balances. That youth was no
gamey sixth former trying to sneak a cheeky underage pint, no this
youth was armed and purposeful. This youth was Eros, who drew back
an arrow of love and aimed it true at Liberty’s heart. Within an
instance Liberty was Apollo’s good and proper. Eros gave Apollo a
quick nod, to signal that he had upheld his half of the bargain and
ducked out of the pub before Glory spotted him. Eros was
intimidated by Glory.

***

Glory sat there
watching Liberty’s face contort into an emotion she had never seen
on her face before. If she hadn’t have been immortal Glory would
have assumed that Liberty was suffering from a seizure of some
sort, that was until she followed her eye line and noticed that
wanker standing there, oh and one of his bloody brothers was behind
him too. Apollo and Dionysius walked into the pub with the
unmistakable swagger of two gods with sexual dysfunction issues
that no amount of therapy would ever be able to quell. This foul
pair then proceeded to sit down at the Valkyrie’s table as if they
were invited. Glory sat there incredulous as they helped themselves
to her sodding tequila. Liberty was also speechless but in a gooey
rather than repulsed way. Honour and Bea came back from their star
turn. Honour was perturbed whilst Bea looked blank.

***

“So then I said
to Shakespeare, you can’t write a play about Ethel the Pirate’s
daughter that would be silly, and that’s how Romeo & Juliet
happened.” Apollo laughed at his own anecdote as Liberty looked
adoringly on “You’ve met my brother Dionysius before right?”

“We are more
than familiar. Get your hand away from there.” Glory said.

“Stop touching
me please.” Honour said far too politely as both she and Glory
batted away Dionysius errant hands from their knees.

“Wait, did you
just actually claim to be Ben Affleck in
Shakespeare in
Love
?” asked Glory appalled. Apollo didn’t bother acknowledging
her and was instead staring intently at Liberty.

“Who are you
sweetheart, haven’t seen you before?” Dionysius asked Bea.

“I’m Bea. I
just started, nice to meet you.” Bea had gone to shake Dionysius’
hand but had seen the warning look that Honour shot her.

“Don’t even
think about it. Bea isn’t jaded yet.” Honour said defensively.

“I’d tell you
to keep your knickers from getting in a twist but I doubt you’re
wearing any.” Dionysius said to Honour with a brazen grin.

“Eloquent.”
Glory sighed.

“What happened
to the other girl Mal, the one with the..?” asked Dionysius as he
mimicked having a pair of boobs.

“Val, she’s
left. She’s getting married.” Honour said.

“Married
really? What an interesting topic of conversation.” Apollo
exclaimed.

“I need to
powder my nose.” Liberty said.

“We all do, we
all look like shit.” Glory said.

“What a
dreadful simile Glory.” Apollo said as Glory practically frog
marched the others to the ladies loo.

“Why do women
all go to the bathroom together in gaggles?” asked Apollo.

“Gaggles? Is
that the collective noun? It’s so they can hold each other’s dicks
when they pee.” said Dionysius.

***

The ladies loo
in The Queen’s Head wasn’t particularly pleasant. It always smelt
faintly of sick, the mirror was cracked, and there was never any
bog roll. In Geoff’s defence he had recently added in some hand
cream by the sinks. There was already a girl clogging up the mirror
applying mascara whilst her friend talked at her about the awful
Tinder date she’d been on that week. The guy had forced his tongue
down her throat, but he picked up the bill so he couldn’t possibly
be all bad. Glory shooed them out like pigeons hanging around a
park bench before Honour could blow her top.

“You bloody
said you ended it with him.” Honour was wounded that Liberty had
apparently lied to her.

“Yes I did,
didn’t I?” Liberty said pretty dazed.

“You lied to my
face. My face, my face, my lovely face and here you are in a
stupor.” Honour was beginning to get angry.

“Are you or are
you not going to marry him?” asked Glory. Glory pathologically did
not believe in marriage, she saw it as a trap that had made some of
her shiniest friends become harangued harridans. She couldn’t
imagine what she would have been like now had she actually married
way back when she was supposed to.

“Yes. Lordy, I
think I am. I just had a vision of going dress shopping with my
mum.” Liberty said.

“Huh, that’s a
bit of a turnaround?” Bea said, acting very confused by everything
that was going on.

“No, no, no.
Please no. It’ll be the end of it all.” Glory said, reservedly
considering the gravity of the words that actually flowed from her
mouth. Despite the vast quantities of alcohol and drugs floating
around her body Glory was holding her emotions in considerably. She
wanted to kick and scream and cry. Liberty couldn’t get married and
leave her. Liberty couldn’t leave Glory or those halcyon days for
fucking Apollo. Anyone but him, she couldn’t bear it if it was
Apollo.

“The end of
what?” asked Liberty.

“Of this.”
Glory said.

“Don’t be so
overdramatic.” Liberty said.

“It’ll be the
end of it everything.” Glory slumped along the tiles underneath the
crap old hand dryer that hadn’t worked for five odd years. She was
distraught but it was impossible to be sure why these days. Liberty
abandoning her was one thing but it wasn’t that clear cut.

“I am so bloody
mad with you Liberty, the number of times I’ve stayed up listening
to all your theories as to why he puts you through the crap he
does: all that Freudian rubbish about his parents. All the other
girls he’s shagging let alone the bloody boys. Are you that much of
a masochist that you’ll keep going back?” Honour asked. She was so
tremendously angry she couldn’t bear to think of the pain that
Liberty was storing up for her future self.

“Calm down
Honour.” Bea said.

“Go on. Marry
him. But don’t you dare think you can come to me when he’s knocked
the next bint up. Is he really worth it, is he?” said Honour as she
turned towards Bea saying “I’m leaving. Bea, I’d suggest you come
too; you don’t want to get mixed up in it all. Oh and don’t you
dare ask me to be a bridesmaid, you stupid cow.” Honour grabbed Bea
firmly by the hand and swished out of the loo affronted. She
charged back over to the table past a girl singing One Direction
for shits and giggles and grabbed her bag. Honour stood there at
the table with Bea still in tow, looking at Apollo. Before he could
guess her animosity Honour’s lips spread into a broad smile.

“Honour, how
are things with you?” asked Apollo cordially.

“Fine, thank
you. I’m afraid we’re leaving. We have a busy few days in front of
us. It was nice to see you again. Good evening.” Honour said.

“Goodbye, it
was most interesting to meet you.” Bea said as she followed Honour
out of the pub and into a taxi back to Hackney.

“I’d tap that.”
Dionysius said.

“Honour or the
new girl?” asked Apollo.

“And/or.”
Dionysius looked wistfully at the door.

“Honour would
put up a fight. She looks like a scratcher.” Apollo said relishing
the idea.

“I know”
Dionysius said with a sigh “and what about the new girl?”

“Well that
remains to be seen.” Apollo said as a wolfish grin crept on to his
face.

“She reminds me
of someone but I can’t place my finger on it.”

“I was thinking
the same thing. That is disconcerting.”

“All these
girls look the same. No little premonitions about this Bea? I take
it she’s another of Athena’s little minions.” Dionysius was
prospecting his chance of shagging either of the girls “What did
Athena say to do with the lovely Honour?”

“Disposable.
There’s no real need for Honour anymore, but I can’t see the point
in killing her myself now she’s achieved their initial objective by
killing Valour in order to place Bea in the house.” Apollo said.
Not a twitch of emotion crossed his face.

“Can I fuck
her?” asked Dionysius whose amorous attentions were always
fickle.