STARSHINE THE OCEAN AND THE UNICORN
                                   Chapter One          Part Three




          Alone again Joe lay still,shrouded in the quiet fog.  Each long, careful breath ran through his body.  He felt the cold, roughness of the brick wall that propped up his head, the hardness of the pavement penetrated his flesh and found his bones.  His guts were bruised, his shoulders ached and his neck was locked off centre.  These sensations felt good.  He was alive.  His brain slowly crept around the fact that his life had been spared but the deal he had been offered had been pushed to the brain's farthest recesses where it would not have to be thought about.  This had always been Joe's way, to cling to the good and enjoy it and forget the bad until it comes to look you in the face, then look for a way out, there was always a way out.
          Joe got up, easing his muscles and loosening his cramps.  He shook the sand from his jacket and his shirt and turned back down the alley towards the heart of Soho, moving faster as he went, regaining a jaunty bounce in his step.  His excitement pulled his face into a smile and his blue eyes laughed.  He turned into Old Compton Street.  Red, blue and yellow lights shone into the fog like motionless coloured smoke.  Huddles of customers collected around the doors of strip clubs and topless bars, eager to get out of the cold and into the heat.  Joe had turned these tired streets inside out, but tonight they were new to him, they promised undiscovered secrets to a stranger in his native land.
          He slipped into a narrow doorway.  The thin corridor hinted at the club's sleazy intimacy, with its subtle glow of pink light.  Inside it was small, just room enough for a bar and a few tables.  The same pink glow made the cracks in the low ceiling and the peeling paint less obvious.  Music blared, the bass vibrated across the floor and up through the furniture.  A stripper had just started her act at the far end of the room.  Nobody bothered to watch.  Her body had seen firmer days and she was only there to keep up Soho appearances.  This was a local's club, not a visitors club, a favourite haunt of Soho's smaller villains and spivs who came there to drink after hours, discuss a little business or play a little poker in one of the back rooms.  Tourists and unknown faces were discouraged.  Joe sat at the bar and ordered a double scotch.  The barmaid was new.  He thought she looked pretty but it was hard to tell in the pink distorting light.  Joe looked around the room for faces he knew.  There were several.  One came towards him braking into a big smile.  Joe let the whisky slip down through his body and relax his soul.
             The smiler was Ned.  Ned  is the name given to a donkey and Ned could talk the hind legs off one.  He would talk of Ireland his native land like it was a picture postcard of gentle hills and farmhouses where the shone gold like Jameson's and the peat was black like Guiness.  His drunken tongue would roll and slur and lilt on and on to whoever would listen.  Change would come out of his pockets and drinks would be bought for whoever was listening.  So Joe listened and drank and wondered where a drunk like Ned found so much money.  Ned was a greasy mess who wore a five o' clock shadow all day long, he dragged his feet and let his shirt sleeves dangle.  But he always had money.  Joe drank double after double of the clear amber liquid provided while Ned spoke of a place too magical to exist, which is why, Joe supposed Ned never managed to get himself back there, because Ned's land was a place too beautiful to ever be found.  All Joe could see was the never ending supply of coins coming from Ned's trouser pockets and all Joe could picture was a small, dingy room somewhere in Soho, Ned's room and everywhere there were jars and vases and bowls full of change, coins of copper, silver and gold and in his tooth mug and his teapot.  Maybe Ned was a meter man, gas, electric, parking, and fruit machines and phone boxes.  Or maybe there was a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow and Ned had found it.  But pots of gold made people happy and Ned was lonely, but Joe asked him anyway "Where do you come by all the money Ned?"  Ned did not understand.  "The money" Joe repeated but he knew there would be no answer because he had asked before and so had others.  Ned denied any awareness of money while he pulled more coins from his pocket and bought another round.
          Joe had no money but he did not want to worry about that now.  He let Ned's voice fade and turned his attention to the barmaid.  She was beautiful.Her legs were long and her lips were full.  Joe interrupted Ned.
"She's new 'ere,isn't she?"
"Yes."
"What's her name?"
Ned focused his bleary eyes on the girl and chose a name "Rosy.  Rosy is her name.