STARSHINE. THE OCEAN AND THE UNICORN
Chapter three Part thirteen
The sky blue, rusting morris minor coughed and spluttered but it ran. Joe drove and drove, he was aware of the controls and the traffic but his mind was blank and his direction blind.
It was afternoon when he drove through the wood. Ash gold rays from the lowering sun slanted through the branches. He turned off the road up a lane. The wheels crunched over gravel and the engine strained against the incline. Only then did Joe know where he was. He drew up at the gate. The garden path was an avenue of waist high grass, the cracks in the curved stairway seemed wider and the edges of the stone steps more crumbled. The gargoyle knocker no longer scared him and the door was ajar, so he walked in. His footsteps were slow and soft as a cat's as he entered the drawing room and stood behind Clare. She was sitting in a rocking chair in a patch of sunlight that fell through the window. There was a glass of brandy on a table beside her. She gazed out into the haze of bright light on dirty glass. She did not turn to look at Joe. She sat very still, like a dark shadow, her head outlined in a halo of intense white light.
" Hello godson ! " Her quiet words filled him and made him know why he was there. She was his godmother.
Wednesday 30 September 2015
Friday 25 September 2015
STARSHINE, THEOCEAN AND THE UNICORN
Chapter three Part twelve
The grandstand was crowded. It was a clear sunny day 'though a cold wind blew, Joe felt it through his thin jacket, it chilled his already cold body. He was in a daze, he felt weak and feverish. He lost himself in the crowds and the movement of the racecourse. People milled around and men stood high above them, waving their arms about in their weird tick-tack language, while names and numbers were chalked up and rubbed off blackboards. Joe watched the sleek horses being warmed up by impish jockeys in colourful shirts and caps. He tried to make a plan but his ideas raced around his head and fell over themselves. He knew he had to wait for Jack to arrive, then things would just happen and his mind would clear. He drew hard on a cigarette, his lungs seemed to shake and his heart hammered against his breast bone. He wanted to cry but his tear ducts were dry.
" Sorry I'm late."
Jack O'Neil was a little, ferret faced man, he had thick brown hair around the sides of his head and a bald pate. Joe could see him out f the corner of his eye, he could see the garish colours of Jack's red shirt and navy, nylon suit, too short in the arms and legs. Joe would not look at him, he could not look at him. He felt all the eyes around them digging deep inside him connecting him with Jack O'Neil. Joe could not bare it. His brain screamed with paranoia. He pushed past Jack and said quickly,
"We mustn't be seen together. Meet me in the pub in half an hour. The one near the station car park on the main road."
Joe walked away quickly before Jack could object. He tried to breath deeply and make his fever subside as he walked from the racecourse, down the main road to the pub, but a bird was inside his body, an ugly, ferocious bird, it held his larynx tight in its beak, its wings beat crazily against his rib cage and its talons clawed at his guts.
The pub was plush with red carpet and oak tables. He sat at the bar and drank two whiskies, his mind had gone blank and the chatter and hubbub around him seemed far away. Then he bought himself a third whisky and a black coffee ready for Jack. He sat at a table with his back to the wall. He took the ring box from his jacket pocket tipped the sugar lump from its satin lining, onto the saucer to join the other one, careful not to touch even its paper wrapping. He cast his eyes around the room, but none were cast back in his direction, he had not been seen. He put the ring box back in his pocket and pushed the cup of coffee to the far side of the table, right on the edge, as if it belonged to someone who had nothing to do with him. He tried again to relax but he was crazy with guilt and fear. Suddenly Jack was there. Joe got up to go and without even a glance at Jack he said under his breath,
" Drink the coffee and then follow me out to the gents, I've got something to show you. "
Jack giggled,
" Didn't know you felt that way about me," he pursed his lips. Joe cringed and got away from the table, fast. He looked back quickly from the doorway and saw Jack stirring his coffee, a pleased look on his face as if enjoying the excitement and mystery of the shady bit of business about to be revealed to him. Joe did not think he would take too long finishing his coffee and getting to the gents.
The gents sparkled with pure, disinfected white ; the hand basins, the bogs, the tiled walls, the urinals, all clean like they were fresh out of a shop window and had never been used. Joe was alone and he prayed there would be no other occupants for the next five minutes. He leant on a basin, his fevered heart beating hard and sweat started to bead around his temples. Jack was a conniving, lying, cheating little runt, but Joe had never meant him this much harm. He splashed cold water over his face and wiped it off with a paper towel. Jack stumbled through the door, he was pulling at the collar button of his shirt, his face was puce and a horrible scratching and rasping was coming from his throat. Joe caught him under the arms, swung him round into a cubicle and locked the door. He sat Jack on the bog seat and by the time he had pulled his nylon , navy trousers down around his ankles, Jack's head had fallen back against he pipe and he was staring up at the cistern with bulging, dead fish eyes and Joe remembered the courier at the airport. He heard the door bang and quickly climbed onto the seat, putting his feet on either side and tucking them underneath the body to hide them from the gap under the door. The guy pissed into the urinal, it was a long, steady, full stream that would not end. Joe's head was spinning and he was weeping inside. He wanted Jack to cry out and give him away, but Jack was dead.
The stream turned into a trickle and then stopped. Joe heard the zip and then the door. He got down, out of the cubicle and closed the door as far as it would close with the lock turned to "engaged". He turned a tap full on, soaped his hands and let the hard rush of water run over them. He ripped out another paper towel and did not know why he had washed his hands. He should have got out straight away, but he had washed his hands and he did not know why. He screwed up the paper towel, threw it down and split.
Outside two articulated lorries thundered past him, one after the other. Joe was glad of the noise, it drowned his thoughts and hid deed. He threw the ring box into a ditch at the side of the road and walked towards the car park.
Chapter three Part twelve
The grandstand was crowded. It was a clear sunny day 'though a cold wind blew, Joe felt it through his thin jacket, it chilled his already cold body. He was in a daze, he felt weak and feverish. He lost himself in the crowds and the movement of the racecourse. People milled around and men stood high above them, waving their arms about in their weird tick-tack language, while names and numbers were chalked up and rubbed off blackboards. Joe watched the sleek horses being warmed up by impish jockeys in colourful shirts and caps. He tried to make a plan but his ideas raced around his head and fell over themselves. He knew he had to wait for Jack to arrive, then things would just happen and his mind would clear. He drew hard on a cigarette, his lungs seemed to shake and his heart hammered against his breast bone. He wanted to cry but his tear ducts were dry.
" Sorry I'm late."
Jack O'Neil was a little, ferret faced man, he had thick brown hair around the sides of his head and a bald pate. Joe could see him out f the corner of his eye, he could see the garish colours of Jack's red shirt and navy, nylon suit, too short in the arms and legs. Joe would not look at him, he could not look at him. He felt all the eyes around them digging deep inside him connecting him with Jack O'Neil. Joe could not bare it. His brain screamed with paranoia. He pushed past Jack and said quickly,
"We mustn't be seen together. Meet me in the pub in half an hour. The one near the station car park on the main road."
Joe walked away quickly before Jack could object. He tried to breath deeply and make his fever subside as he walked from the racecourse, down the main road to the pub, but a bird was inside his body, an ugly, ferocious bird, it held his larynx tight in its beak, its wings beat crazily against his rib cage and its talons clawed at his guts.
The pub was plush with red carpet and oak tables. He sat at the bar and drank two whiskies, his mind had gone blank and the chatter and hubbub around him seemed far away. Then he bought himself a third whisky and a black coffee ready for Jack. He sat at a table with his back to the wall. He took the ring box from his jacket pocket tipped the sugar lump from its satin lining, onto the saucer to join the other one, careful not to touch even its paper wrapping. He cast his eyes around the room, but none were cast back in his direction, he had not been seen. He put the ring box back in his pocket and pushed the cup of coffee to the far side of the table, right on the edge, as if it belonged to someone who had nothing to do with him. He tried again to relax but he was crazy with guilt and fear. Suddenly Jack was there. Joe got up to go and without even a glance at Jack he said under his breath,
" Drink the coffee and then follow me out to the gents, I've got something to show you. "
Jack giggled,
" Didn't know you felt that way about me," he pursed his lips. Joe cringed and got away from the table, fast. He looked back quickly from the doorway and saw Jack stirring his coffee, a pleased look on his face as if enjoying the excitement and mystery of the shady bit of business about to be revealed to him. Joe did not think he would take too long finishing his coffee and getting to the gents.
The gents sparkled with pure, disinfected white ; the hand basins, the bogs, the tiled walls, the urinals, all clean like they were fresh out of a shop window and had never been used. Joe was alone and he prayed there would be no other occupants for the next five minutes. He leant on a basin, his fevered heart beating hard and sweat started to bead around his temples. Jack was a conniving, lying, cheating little runt, but Joe had never meant him this much harm. He splashed cold water over his face and wiped it off with a paper towel. Jack stumbled through the door, he was pulling at the collar button of his shirt, his face was puce and a horrible scratching and rasping was coming from his throat. Joe caught him under the arms, swung him round into a cubicle and locked the door. He sat Jack on the bog seat and by the time he had pulled his nylon , navy trousers down around his ankles, Jack's head had fallen back against he pipe and he was staring up at the cistern with bulging, dead fish eyes and Joe remembered the courier at the airport. He heard the door bang and quickly climbed onto the seat, putting his feet on either side and tucking them underneath the body to hide them from the gap under the door. The guy pissed into the urinal, it was a long, steady, full stream that would not end. Joe's head was spinning and he was weeping inside. He wanted Jack to cry out and give him away, but Jack was dead.
The stream turned into a trickle and then stopped. Joe heard the zip and then the door. He got down, out of the cubicle and closed the door as far as it would close with the lock turned to "engaged". He turned a tap full on, soaped his hands and let the hard rush of water run over them. He ripped out another paper towel and did not know why he had washed his hands. He should have got out straight away, but he had washed his hands and he did not know why. He screwed up the paper towel, threw it down and split.
Outside two articulated lorries thundered past him, one after the other. Joe was glad of the noise, it drowned his thoughts and hid deed. He threw the ring box into a ditch at the side of the road and walked towards the car park.
Sunday 20 September 2015
STARSHINE, THE OCEAN AND THE UNICORN
Chapter Three Part Eleven
The hollow clanging of barrels echoed from outside where the draymen were loading empty kegs and unloading full ones from the lorry and rolling them down the hatchway in the pavement to the cellar. Joe sat up at the bar, the morning paper spread out in front of him and a cup of black coffee to one side. The chairs were stacked on the tables and Mad Maria was mopping the floor. Joe could hear the sounds of the water slopping and the mop being wrung through the holes in the metal bucket. Maria's presence made him prickle. He looked at her quickly but saw nothing but an old Italian woman, her thick grey hair drawn back and knotted behind her head, a pink nylon overall over her black dress, varicose veins on her white, stubby legs and a pair of dirty, torn espadrilles. She was Mad Maria. She was pathetic. She responded to everything with a shrug and a nervous laugh. She did not understand enough English to have said the words she had said to Joe. Joe put it down to his ears playing tricks on him and forgot her.
Annie tottered in in a tight red skirt and stiletto heels. She had a note pad and a pencil. Joe watched her checking the shelf stocks. Her hair was pinned up, her nails were polished and there was just a hint of make-up on her pretty face to emphasise her gorgeous eyes and high cheek bones. She marked things down on her note pad. Joe kept gazing at her and then he remembered that he had yet another favour to ask of her,
" Annie ? "
" Yes luv."
" Can I borrow your car on Saturday ? "
" Of course you can luv. If you can get it to go. It just sits in the yard getting rusty. I never use it. "
" Thanks ! "
Annie turned round and looked at his cup of coffee.
" That's your breakfast is it ? "
" I'll get something later on, " Joe lied. Food was no longer part of Joe's life, he never remembered to eat and hunger had been forgotten too.
" I've got to get on, " said Annie, she kissed him quickly and was gone.
Joe rifled through the paper and found the star signs, but the old witch broke into his reading with her heavy Italian accent and her clear English words.
" Then I'll light another candle on Saturday Joe. There are three already. "
Joe swung round and his anger met her look of pity.
" Yeah, " he tightened and spat out his words, " Light four more ! "
Mad Maria was unmoved and her voice still calm,
" I'll light three more. The fourth will be yours and I don't know yet if I should light it. "
Chapter Three Part Eleven
The hollow clanging of barrels echoed from outside where the draymen were loading empty kegs and unloading full ones from the lorry and rolling them down the hatchway in the pavement to the cellar. Joe sat up at the bar, the morning paper spread out in front of him and a cup of black coffee to one side. The chairs were stacked on the tables and Mad Maria was mopping the floor. Joe could hear the sounds of the water slopping and the mop being wrung through the holes in the metal bucket. Maria's presence made him prickle. He looked at her quickly but saw nothing but an old Italian woman, her thick grey hair drawn back and knotted behind her head, a pink nylon overall over her black dress, varicose veins on her white, stubby legs and a pair of dirty, torn espadrilles. She was Mad Maria. She was pathetic. She responded to everything with a shrug and a nervous laugh. She did not understand enough English to have said the words she had said to Joe. Joe put it down to his ears playing tricks on him and forgot her.
Annie tottered in in a tight red skirt and stiletto heels. She had a note pad and a pencil. Joe watched her checking the shelf stocks. Her hair was pinned up, her nails were polished and there was just a hint of make-up on her pretty face to emphasise her gorgeous eyes and high cheek bones. She marked things down on her note pad. Joe kept gazing at her and then he remembered that he had yet another favour to ask of her,
" Annie ? "
" Yes luv."
" Can I borrow your car on Saturday ? "
" Of course you can luv. If you can get it to go. It just sits in the yard getting rusty. I never use it. "
" Thanks ! "
Annie turned round and looked at his cup of coffee.
" That's your breakfast is it ? "
" I'll get something later on, " Joe lied. Food was no longer part of Joe's life, he never remembered to eat and hunger had been forgotten too.
" I've got to get on, " said Annie, she kissed him quickly and was gone.
Joe rifled through the paper and found the star signs, but the old witch broke into his reading with her heavy Italian accent and her clear English words.
" Then I'll light another candle on Saturday Joe. There are three already. "
Joe swung round and his anger met her look of pity.
" Yeah, " he tightened and spat out his words, " Light four more ! "
Mad Maria was unmoved and her voice still calm,
" I'll light three more. The fourth will be yours and I don't know yet if I should light it. "
Tuesday 8 September 2015
STARSHINE, THE OCEAN AND THE UNICORN
Chapter Three Part Ten
The sash window above the pub door squeaked and strained as it was opened and Annie leaned out. She held back her wild tresses of red hair and looked down at Joe, peering through the darkness and the sleep that still filled her eyes. Joe looked up at her like a little boy lost and shrugged his shoulders. He saw her smile, she closed the window, it rattled and Joe waited for her to come downstairs. The street that bustled in the day time was motionless and eerie at night, even the air was still and the hollow sounds of bolts being drawn and the ringing of chains being unchained echoed in the silence. Then the door was opened, Annie drew him inside quickly and closed the door on the cold.
The bedroom was warm. A small light shone from beside the bed and filled the room with soft shadows. Annie's dressing gown fell to the floor. Joe held her close to him, he ran his hands down her back, over her slender hips and the roundness of her arse. Her skin was like satin and Joe melted into the warmth that came from her. They kissed deeply and heard the beating of each other's hearts. Annie climbed into bed. Joe got out of his clothes quickly, left them straggled over the carpet and followed her between the cream silk sheets. Her red hair was spread over the pillow and her green eyes smiled at Joe in a way that made him know he was wanted. She moved with a slow, sensuous delight as he kissed and touched all of her. He moved inside her. Her sweetness flowed and closed around him. Like sea waves drawing from an ocean they filled and filled until they broke with the fever and the madness and the cries of love.
Afterwards as they lay wrapped in each other's arms, the lengths of their bodies touching, Joe told Annie that he had a lot of money coming his way and that when he had got it he would take her somewhere far away for a holiday. Annie laughed, it was her own sweet, good natured laugh for a boy who dreams but Joe's memory could hear the strains of Jason's sick laughter in the massage parlour when Joe had said he could get the money to buy himself out. Joe realised that his fortune was a secret only because he was someone who was not believed. Annie kissed him lovingly on the forehead, but Joe was all empty of their love and a sadness was filling him. He turned over to go to sleep where the sadness would not reach him. He slept deeply and dreamt of pearls floating on dark water like stars in the night sky.
Chapter Three Part Ten
The sash window above the pub door squeaked and strained as it was opened and Annie leaned out. She held back her wild tresses of red hair and looked down at Joe, peering through the darkness and the sleep that still filled her eyes. Joe looked up at her like a little boy lost and shrugged his shoulders. He saw her smile, she closed the window, it rattled and Joe waited for her to come downstairs. The street that bustled in the day time was motionless and eerie at night, even the air was still and the hollow sounds of bolts being drawn and the ringing of chains being unchained echoed in the silence. Then the door was opened, Annie drew him inside quickly and closed the door on the cold.
The bedroom was warm. A small light shone from beside the bed and filled the room with soft shadows. Annie's dressing gown fell to the floor. Joe held her close to him, he ran his hands down her back, over her slender hips and the roundness of her arse. Her skin was like satin and Joe melted into the warmth that came from her. They kissed deeply and heard the beating of each other's hearts. Annie climbed into bed. Joe got out of his clothes quickly, left them straggled over the carpet and followed her between the cream silk sheets. Her red hair was spread over the pillow and her green eyes smiled at Joe in a way that made him know he was wanted. She moved with a slow, sensuous delight as he kissed and touched all of her. He moved inside her. Her sweetness flowed and closed around him. Like sea waves drawing from an ocean they filled and filled until they broke with the fever and the madness and the cries of love.
Afterwards as they lay wrapped in each other's arms, the lengths of their bodies touching, Joe told Annie that he had a lot of money coming his way and that when he had got it he would take her somewhere far away for a holiday. Annie laughed, it was her own sweet, good natured laugh for a boy who dreams but Joe's memory could hear the strains of Jason's sick laughter in the massage parlour when Joe had said he could get the money to buy himself out. Joe realised that his fortune was a secret only because he was someone who was not believed. Annie kissed him lovingly on the forehead, but Joe was all empty of their love and a sadness was filling him. He turned over to go to sleep where the sadness would not reach him. He slept deeply and dreamt of pearls floating on dark water like stars in the night sky.
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