Dog Roses - Chapter Nineteen

CHAPTER NINETEEN

I am ashamed to say that, during those few seconds when I believed Maggie Dillon to be HIV positive, my overwhelming feeling was one of relief.  I was not alone in this nightmare. Someone else was going through what I was going through.

“I’m clear,” she said and such was my disappointment that I got angry again.

“What are you trying to do here, wind me up? Well, you’re succeeding! I don’t need this, Maggie, and I don’t need you! Just…GO, will you?  Go and fuck someone else’s head up, but LEAVE ME ALONE.” I was on my feet now, grappling with so many feelings at once that I couldn’t have described a single one.

But Maggie just sat there, stock still, watching me with eyes filled with tears. (Are they for me, I wondered?) “I want to help,” she said with such directness and simplicity that my anger dissolved on the spot. I promptly sat down again. “I thought it might help to understand that gays don’t have a monopoly on HIV or AIDS.” I opened my mouth to protest, but she forestalled me. “Oh, I know it’s no secret. But when it happens to you, like I thought it had happened to me, it feels like you’re the only one.”

“So why wait until now to tell me?”

“I don’t know. Like you, I was scared stiff of finding out. Then I got to thinking maybe I should start practising what I preach. You found the courage, so why not me?”

“Did someone go with you?” She shook her head. “I’d have come.”

“I didn’t like to ask. It seemed so unfair to put you through all that again. Besides…”

“Besides…?” I prompted.

She tossed her head and let her red hair fly in all directions. “I’m really a very private person. It was my business, no one else’s.”

“I’m a very private person too,” I pointed out.

She smiled. “True. But we’re different, you and I, Rob, very different.”

There was no arguing with that so I tried a different approach. “Why are you telling me now then?”

“I needed to get the load off my chest. Well, shift it anyway. Perhaps now it won’t hurt so much. You, of all people, can appreciate that surely?”

“Be my guest.”  I hadn’t meant to sound facetious. Even so, I felt more at ease when she glared at me. I still wasn’t used to this new Maggie. Incredible as it would have seemed not so long ago, I found myself warming to her. I was also beginning to understand what it was about her that Billy Mack had found so irresistible. I couldn’t help smiling inwardly. Until very recently, that was a word I’d have been least likely to come up with to describe the fiery Maggie Dillon. (Hadn’t I always thought of her as something of an alley cat?)

“Huh, men...! Gay or straight, you’re all the same. All you care about is beating the birds and the bees at their own game!” I began to relax and sensed we were about to enter familiar territory. “What is it about men and macho, eh? Or should I say, what’s so un-macho about using a condom?”

Her voice remained quiet, unnervingly so. In spite of a pleasant lilt, her tone was deadly serious, every word pure venom. “God rot macho men, I say!” She continued, and laughed in my face, but for once I had the commonsense to keep quiet. “Show a straight man a bit of skirt and all he sees is a one way ego trip. I imagine it’s much the same for gay men, right? Except for the skirt of course...” She laughed again, and I was reminded of old Marge’s ironic cackle. Maggie must have read my thoughts because she leaned across and gave me a dazzling smile. “Don’t look so worried. I haven’t got it in for the whole male species. Nothing so drastic, believe me. It’s only the bastards I get paranoid about.” We laughed together if uneasily. “Don’t you want to know why?”

“I get the feeling you’re going to tell me anyway,” I parried lightly.

“True, but strictly between you and me, okay? I nodded. You can tell Matt if you like, but let on to another living soul and I’ll scratch your eyes out.”  She smiled sweetly. Her voice dropped to a whisper again. It’s Nick. I’m pretty sure he’s HIV positive.”

I wasn’t even mildly shocked. “But you don’t know for certain.” It was not a question.

Maggie shook her head. “He won’t have the test. He doesn’t want to know.”

“So how…?”

“His father died of AIDS,” she interrupted sharply and went on, “Oh, it may say  the cause of death was pneumonia on the death certificate because it was pneumonia that finished him off.  But it was AIDS that killed him as sure as I’m sitting here now.” Tears filled her eyes. Were they meant for the likes of Nick Crolley? I was confused, to say the least. “Ed told me”, she went on, “Apparently, it was common knowledge among the other prisoners. But Nick never knew. Not until I threw it in his face during a recent bust-up. I assumed he knew, I swear, or I’d never have…”

She gave a shudder. “He went berserk. I thought he’d kill me for sure this time. God knows how I managed to get away. I remember lashing out, and then nothing except running for dear life. Somehow I ended up in the park. Ed found me there. I was in such a state, I can’t tell you. But you know that, you saw us, remember?”

I did, vaguely. “But that was ages ago! How come you’ve never said anything before?”

She shrugged. “Since when did anyone rush to wash their dirty laundry in public?” She sighed. “Ed was so kind. He fixed it for me to stay at the bed-sit of a mate of his doing time for burglary. The rent was all paid up to cover his being away so the landlord couldn’t re-let.” The grey-green eyes flashed warningly. “It’s not what you’re thinking either. Ed is okay. He just wanted to help, that’s all.”

“People are saying…”

“I know what they’re saying,” she said quietly, “but it wasn’t like that, not at first...”  Her voice trailed off, and I resisted asking what had changed since. “Ed’s okay,” she repeated, “Nothing happened between us…Well, not until we were both good and ready.”

“And now…?” I probed gently.

“We love each other.”

The letters of Clive Rider’s name performed a colourful war dance in my mind’s eye. “So what was Paris all about?” I wanted to ask but judged it inadvisable.  “So Tom Crolley had AIDS, so what?  I mean, what has that to do with Nick?  It’s not like it’s genetic. I can understand Nick being upset, but it’s not as if Tom and he were especially close if the stories I’ve heard are even half true. It’s certainly no excuse for slamming into you like that.  And what has any of this to do with your having an HIV test anyway?  Tom may have been a real bastard but you can’t blame everything on the parents.”

Maggie’s expression was grim. “You must have been a fly on the wall when I told Lou. That’s what she said, almost word for word.

“You told Lou?”

“Not intentionally, it just came out. Not the way I’m telling you now. Not for the same reason either. I was in a state and, well, it just came out,” she repeated and fell silent for a while.

“You were saying?” I prompted. By now I was feeing increasingly irritable and fervently wished she’s just get on and say what she felt she had to say and leave me alone.

“Before I moved into the bed-sit, I had to go back to the flat and collect some things. It was the middle of the afternoon so I assumed Nick would be working.”

“But he wasn’t…”

Maggie shook her head. “He came out of the bathroom and surprised me. I must have looked as scared as I felt because he couldn’t have been nicer. He can be nice, you know…sometimes. I suppose that’s why I stayed with him, always went back after…”

She gave another shudder. “...but not this time, no way.” She paused and ran both hands through her hair. “It was all very civilized. He even apologized. I half expected him to beg me to stay like he always did, but he must have realized he’d gone too far this time. We said out goodbyes and I turned to leave when it happened.  I heard this awful sound, like someone moaning in pain, despair, you name it.  I looked round, and he was just standing there, crying like baby.  It was pathetic. I’d never seen him cry before. I didn’t know what to do. Part of me wanted to give him a hug and part of me wanted to tell him to grow up. Then he just blurted it out. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. In the end I couldn’t bear it any longer and left….”

“Nick told you he might be HIV positive?”

She shook her head. “He told me how he and Ed had rowed about me and how Ed had thrown it up at him that Tom Crolley died of AIDS-related pneumonia.” She read my disapproving expression correctly. “Yes, yes, I know. Ed should have kept his big mouth shut, but you know how it is when someone provokes you. You lash out with whatever comes to mind.  Of course, Nick refused to believe it at first. Apparently, though, it played on his mind so much, he threatened one of Tom’s old cronies with all sorts until the poor geezer confirmed.” She paused again, but not for effect. I got impression she was not only upset but also nervous. “It was awful, Rob. He couldn’t stop crying, and kept making horrible sobbing noises. I felt physically sick. At the same time I was thinking how no one ever gave a toss about Tom Crolley, including Nick, so why the histrionics? Even so, I had a bad feeling about it. Call it feminine intuition if you like. Whatever, gut instinct told me I really did not want to know the answer to that question, and should beat it while I still could.”

“Nick has had sex unprotected with someone who is HIV positive, is that what you’re saying?”

Again, she shook her head until red sparks flew everywhere. “He told me his father had abused him.”

I could only stare in wide-eyed disbelief. “You mean…?”

“Tom Crolley sexually abused his kids, all of them.”

“So…” I gulped.

Maggie nodded. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. “I wanted to stay. I wanted to help him or at least comfort him. But it wouldn’t have done any good. So I understood more now, so what? It would always come between us. We’d probably end up hating one another, and I didn’t want that.” She winced under my quizzical gaze. “Believe it or not, I did love him after a fashion.”  Nor was she being defensive, but so matter-of-fact I believed her.

There’s no accounting for taste, I thought bitterly. Hadn’t I loved Matthew?  I watched Maggie finish her tea. It must have been stone cold, but she drained the lot. I began to feel resentful. Oh, I felt sorry for her. I even had a sneaking sympathy for Nick. But I had problems of my own. It wasn’t fair to land this on me too. Besides, it was none of my business.

I found my voice. “I really don’t need this Maggie,” I said calmly. But anger wasn’t far away and began to take over. “If it’s true, I’m sorry. What else can I say? What do you want from me?  Why are you telling me all this? I can’t handle it. Why should I have to? What are the Crolleys to me, for fuck’s sake? Haven’t I got enough on my plate?  How dare you come here and expect me to…what? What do you want from me Maggie?”

Maggie met my accusing blast with a steady, unblinking gaze. “You haven’t read it have you? Billy’s diary, you haven’t bloody read it have you? I think I knew you wouldn’t. I suppose I hoped it would save me having to...” She bit her lower lip and looked away with uncharacteristic embarrassment.

“What has Billy’s diary got to do with anything?” I had a sudden, frightening premonition.

She turned to face me. “Nick and Billy were lovers,” she said clearly without the slightest inflection in her voice.

“Lovers…?” I repeated hoarsely. She nodded. I shook my head. “It can’t be true, no way. It’s a lie, a nasty vicious, horrible lie!” Shock waves tore through my entire body. I opened my mouth to protest further. No sound came out. Maggie’s mask-like features swelled and caved in like grotesque images in a Hall of Mirrors. Gradually, they resumed a semblance of normality just as the shock waves subsided to a nauseous gripe in my belly.

Slowly, the full significance of Maggie’s revelation dawned. It was only a flicker at first, like tongues of fire licking at the edge of an appalling darkness.

It was Maggie who broke the awful silence, speaking with a new urgency. She leaned across the table and tried to take my hand, but I snatched it away. “Billy loved you, Rob. He told me so himself. Please don’t hate him. He felt bad about Nick. It was a one-off, that’s all. He was so confused about his sexuality. I suppose they both were. Nick was available. There was nothing more to it than that.  Oh, Billy never talked about it. I only know it happened at a party when they were drunk because…” she hesitated, “I caught them at it in one of the bedrooms. I was looking for the loo and…there they were. I think I was more fascinated than shocked.”  She gave a strange laugh. “They had no idea I was there and I never told either of them. When I shut the door, it was as if it had never happened.  A few days later, Billy told me he was gay.”

“But you and Nick... How could you after…?”

“Like I said, it was as if it never happened. Besides, there’s no way Nick is gay. They do say there’s an element of bisexuality in all of us and, well, Billy was very beautiful.”

I saw red. “You’re jealous! You were jealous that Billy loved me, not you. You’re still jealous, you foul-mouthed bitch!” I roared. Maggie shook her head, a deep sadness in the grey-green eyes that infuriated me even more. I didn’t need her pity, the lying cow. “Liar, liar, LIAR,” I yelled.

“Would I lie about something like this?” she countered tearfully.

“Too right, you would,” I seethed, “It’s called getting your own back. Billy would never, NEVER have had sex with the likes of Nick Crolley.”

“I did,” she responded coolly.

“Yes, well, you would,” I sneered, “you’re the type.”

Maggie scrambled to her feet, eyed blazing. “Oh, and what type would that be? You can clutch at straws as much as you damn well like, Rob, but it doesn’t change a thing. Billy was HIV positive.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

I didn’t, no. But I do now. I’ve read his diary. It’s all there, Rob, in his own words.”

“So?” I yelled.

“So did you and he use a condom?” she yelled back at me.

“It’s all lies!” I could only repeat, “Lies, lies, lies...”

“He tested positive, Rob. It’s all in the diary.” She ran both hands through her hair. “I knew I shouldn’t have come. But Lou said I should. She thought you had a right to know.”

“You told Lou?” I groaned.

“I had to tell someone. I didn’t know what to do. After I read the diary, I didn’t know what to do,” she repeated miserably. “She won’t blab. I doubt whether she’ll even tell Shaun.”

The prospect of Shaun knowing made me want to throw up. I had already begun to accept that Maggie was telling the truth.  My head started to throb and turned as if of its own accord to stare at the wall.  Green paint and white cracks conspired to dump me between a rock and a hard place. 

“Read the diary, Rob,” I heard her say, but preoccupied as I was with a maelstrom in my head, I was not aware of her leaving either the room or the house. 

The next thing I knew, I was in my bedroom. I had no recollection of climbing the stairs. It was as if some quirk of fate had plucked me from the kitchen and sat me in a chair by the window, looking down into a drab backyard, empty but for a solitary sparrow perched on a dustbin lid. I wished it would fly away but it didn’t. I got angry. It had wings to fly so let it use them, I fumed. I heaved open the window, the better to let rip with my feelings. Something fell to the floor with a clatter. I looked down at what I had dropped, unaware until then that I had been holding anything.

It was Billy’s diary. I must have fetched it from the drawer where I had left it, but had no recollection of doing so.

By the time I had bent and picked it up, the sparrow had flown away, but I only half noticed out of the corner of one eye. My gaze was riveted on a book bound in red leather with the word D-I-A-R-Y spelt it in gold letters on the front. It was compact and fairly thick. A tiny key protruded from a brass lock. I tried in vain to imagine Billy writing down his thoughts. He wasn’t the sort of person to write a diary. Yet here it was, proof that I was wrong. What else had I been wrong about, I found myself wondering with a heavy heart? I went and sat on the edge of my bed and opened the diary with trembling fingers.  Instantly, I shut it again. For several minutes I kept opening and shutting it, opening and shutting it. Suddenly, grasping the nettle, I began to read.

Words, and more words, all shaped in Billy’s familiar scrawl and curiously legible for all their haziness, leapt up at me from every page. It was all there; love, hate, fear and much, much more. I ran the whole gamut of human emotions with a dead man, someone I’d loved and thought I knew but hadn’t really known at all. It was more poetry than prose. If anyone had told me Billy Mack was a poet, I’d probably have laughed aloud. On the contrary, he’d never had a lot to say for himself.  Yet, here was my biker lover expressing himself as well as any poet. A lump came to my throat as I read about our first meeting and subsequent lovemaking. He had written: He is so different to anyone I have ever met. What he sees in me, heaven only knows. But I think he loves me. He won’t say so but his body tells me he does. Oh, but such love is sheer bloody poetry. How could I have ever thought I was in love with Nick? Rob is everything Nick isn’t, all I have ever wanted to be…

I read on and Billy became more real, more alive, with every page I turned. At the same time, Nick’s name kept coming back to haunt me along with the same question running through my head like an express train. How can I ever face Matthew with this?

I hadn’t reached the part where Billy finds out he’s HIV positive. I didn’t need to. Instead, I slammed the diary shut. One day I would read it to the end, but not now, not yet. I couldn’t handle any more home truths.

Every word I had read proceeded to give me a savage going-over. I felt myself crumbling under the emotional battering. Don’t hate him. Maggie’s words came back to haunt me. Of course I don’t hate Billy. How could I?  I love him. But Billy was dead. Billy was past tense. Billy didn’t matter in the same way any more. “Only the living really matter...,” I told a beer stain on the duvet and gave a start, as if discovering that particular philosophy for the first time, “...because life matters, every precious second of it...”

Suddenly, I needed to see Matthew.

So how would I face Matthew? I had no idea, but face him I knew I must. He was all that mattered. I jumped to my feet, filled with excitement and…hope? Yes, hope. Oh, but how I hoped…

I dashed to the door, grabbed my jacket from a hook, tore into the upstairs landing and all but tumbled down the stairs in my haste. At the front door, I slithered to a halt. I was in no doubt that Mathew mattered to me. But did I, could I still matter to him?

Outside, I looked up. Could it be there’s a God somewhere after all? But if I was even half-expecting a row of pigeons on telegraph wires to provide any of the answers I so desperately sought, I was in for a big disappointment.

Dog Roses - Chapter Ten

CHAPTER TEN

A few nights after that delightful evening in the company of Shaun and Lou, I was caught up in a brawl at the Black Swan. Shaun was serving behind the bar. Baz Pearce and Liz Daniels who, in case we were in any doubt, had announced they were a regular item before they even sat down, had joined Lou and me. Baz was keen to tell me how, since the demise of the café, most of Billy’s erstwhile band of merry bikers now frequented a café-bar on the other side of town called The Crossbow. “It’s a dump,’ he told us. ‘The tea and coffee are so disgusting that everyone drinks mineral water laced with vodka. Not a good idea if you’re driving. The only attraction is the owner’s daughter.  She has melons any model would die for.’

     Apparently, Nick Crolley had not only wasted no time staking his claim on the said melons, in addition to taking up with Maggie Dillon, but also continued to throw his weight about, appointing himself Leader of the Pack in the process despite a lack of consensus. Much heated debate had followed, resulting in some of the old crowd, Baz and Liz included, roaring away into various sunsets. This was news even to Shaun, who came and sat with us now and then. He saw few of the old crowd now. “Getting married changes your whole life,” he said with a fond glance at Lou, “Besides,” added with a sigh that cut me to the quick, “all that macho bonding stuff died with Billy. Nick Crolley, now, he hasn’t a clue. He just wants to be top dog. As if…!” He gave a low, hoarse laugh. The rest of us nodded soberly. 

     “He’s a creep that Nick, a fucking creep!” Liz exclaimed suddenly, making everyone else jump. It was common knowledge that she was pregnant by Nick months before he’d homed in on Maggie Dillon with what many of us saw as indecent haste, around the time of Billy’s funeral. Liz’s family had demanded she have an abortion. She had not only refused, but also began seeing Baz. A miscarriage had subsequently lost them priority consideration for a council flat.  In the meantime, Liz had dyed her hair black and now wore it very short. At the same time, a combination of heavy black eye shadow and charcoal lipstick gave her pale face the appearance of a ghastly mask.

     After Shaun returned to the bar, the conversation turned to the unlikely pairing of Nick Crolley and Maggie Dillon. Lou was at a loss to explain or even make excuses for her friend’s behaviour. She defended Maggie all the same, blaming subsequent events on Billy’s death. Noticeably, no one wanted to dwell on that subject. Nor were we inclined to anticipate the prospect of Bryan Chester’s trial, now only weeks ahead. Instead, we continued to gossip about Maggie and Nick.

     We were taken aback, to say the least, when Maggie herself appeared out of nowhere, pulled up a chair and slammed down a large brandy and coke. Shaun and I exchanged meaningful glances. Maggie looked a mess; this, quite apart from swollen lips and a badly bruised eye. “Hi everyone,” she said brightly, reaching anxiously for the glass as if in need of moral support. No one spoke.

     It was Liz who broke the uncomfortable silence. “Has Nick been bashing you about again? He has, hasn’t he, the swine?” Liz was never one to be circumspect.

     “You don’t have to answer that Maggie,” said Lou then to the other girl, “Why don’t you just mind your own business?”

     “I warned you,” Liz persisted, “I told you what he’s like. Didn’t I tell her Baz?” seizing her companion’s arm to his obvious discomfort.

      “Shut up!” Lou snapped. It was one of the few occasions I ever saw her rattled.

     “Say what you like, and see if I care,” muttered Maggie and took a sip from her glass. “Why should I give a damn? She’s right. He’s a bastard. She should know. Nearly had another one on your hands too, didn’t you Liz? Trust good old Mother Nature to have everyone’s best interests at heart.  That miscarriage must have seemed like manna from heaven, eh, Liz?”

Liz leapt to her feet and would have launched herself at Maggie had Baz not restrained her. In the event, she pulled away from him and ran off. Baz chased after her but not before flinging Maggie a look of pure malice.

     “Was that really necessary?” Lou was furious.

     “Don’t go all holier than thou on me, Lou. I’m not in the mood.” Maggie raised the glass to her lips and took another sip. “So, how are things with you Rob? Moving up in the world, I hear.” I winced at the undisguised sarcasm in her voice.

     “Things are okay thanks,” I responded in kind, “It’s true about you being a lush these days then?” I chanced a grin.

     “So what’s new?” she spluttered and tried to smile but the effort proved too much. She reached for her the glass, dropped it and vomited all over the table.

     “Shit!” was all Maggie had time to say before she passed out and crumpled in a heap on the floor, somehow managing to avoid the patch swimming in vomit and broken glass.

     “Get her out of here while I sort things out with Shaun,” said Lou with dark looks that suggested she held me personally responsible for Maggie’s condition.

     “What’s going on?” Baz returned without Liz.

     “What does it look like?” retorted Lou, “Give Rob a hand. I’ll be with you as soon as I’ve spoken to Shaun.”

     “Get off me!” Maggie cried feebly as, between us, Baz and I half carried, half dragged her outside. The fresh air did wonders for her recovery. “If you’re expecting an apology you’ll have a long wait,” she muttered, breaking away from us and leaning against a wall for support.

     “It’s Liz you should apologize to,” said Lou as she emerged from the pub to join us. “It was a horrible thing to say. I happen to know she was devastated about losing that baby, even if it was Nick’s.”

     “Devastated,” echoed Baz although his tone carried notably less conviction than Lou’s.

     “She asked for it,” mumbled an unrepentant Maggie, “What about Nick? It was his kid too. But did she give a toss? No. She was glad enough to sleep with him and have his kid. Oh, yes, but as soon as things go pear shaped, she ups and runs like a rat from a sinking ship.”

     “I heard it was the other way around,” I couldn’t resist saying.

     “Well, you heard wrong,” Maggie flared briefly before surrendering to another fit of retching.

     “If you ask me, anyone who sees anything that isn’t downright evil in the likes of Nick Crolley needs their head examining,” declared Lou while wasting no time going to Maggie’s aid, “That goes for you and Liz both” she told Maggie as she wiped her friend’s mouth with a tissue.

     “Liz is well over him,” Baz growled a trifle nervously.

     “I wouldn’t be too sure about that if I were you,” Maggie snarled, the light of battle returning to her eyes.

Shaun arrived with Liz in tow. Baz went and placed an arm around her although protectively or possessively I couldn’t quite decide. She burst into tears.

     “Rob and I will take Maggie back to our place,” Lou announced in such a way that defied argument although I could see it was on the tip of Shaun’s tongue to protest. Instead, he merely nodded. Before we could say or do anything else, a mocking yell came from nearby.

     “What’s going on here then, a teddy bears’ picnic? Can anyone join in? ” Nick Crolley’s voice crackled across the car park like a bad telephone line. Four pairs of eyes swung in his direction, expressing surprise, contempt, apprehension, you name it…anything but pleasure. He was drunk, far more so than Maggie. His eyes were bloodshot and emanated blanket hostility. A grubby red bandana around his head gave the appearance of a skull split wide open. His denim shirt hung open, several studs dangling by a thread. Close behind him a few confederates that I recognized, also drunk, swayed and adopted various sneering expressions but said nothing, apart from making grunting sounds. They hung back, however, as Nick approached us.

     “Well, well, well,” he drawled in a voice growing louder by the second and looking directly at Maggie, “If it ain’t my mate Maggie. Slagging me off again, are you, telling everybody I’m a nasty piece of work?  Well, it takes one to know one, sweetheart.”

     “As a matter of fact, Nick, she was sticking up for you,” I felt compelled to say.

     “As a matter of fact, Rob, you had better mind your own fucking business if you want to stay in one piece!” Crolley snorted and lurched closer. I noticed scratches on his face. The stench of alcohol on his breath was all but overpowering.

     By now, too, a small crowd had gathered. I became rapidly aware of men and women with shining faces and bright eyes eager to see blood spilt, so long as none of it was theirs.

     “So here you are, you stupid bitch!” Crolley yelled at Maggie who, for her part, remained stock still although her hands and lower lip were visibly trembling. She’s frightened of him.  I was slightly taken aback by a sense of disappointment. Maggie stayed silent but flung Crolley a look of such venom that he stumbled backwards a few steps. The crowd, having surged forward, instantly fell back again. The tension was electric. Those watching included drinkers who had drifted from the bar at the first sounds of trouble ahead.  One of these dropped a glass. The sound of its breaking into smithereens on the concrete not only shattered the tension but appeared to give Crolley a new lease of life. He strode up to Maggie, completely ignoring the rest of us. “You’re coming with me!” he told her, but the slurring voice undermined any trace of authority in it.

     “Fuck off,” she hissed defiantly, but I saw her wince in pain as Crolley’s grip on her wrist tightened.

     “You heard her, fuck off,” said Lou quietly, at the same time going up to Maggie and taking one hand in hers.  I almost laughed aloud. It was unheard of for Lou to resort to bad language. “Piss off and leave her alone,” Lou continued in much the same conversational tone. She might have been making small talk instead of warning off a drunken bully. Nick looked flummoxed and began to dribble. I feared for Lou’s safety and tried to catch Shaun’s eye. But he was watching Crolley like a hawk. I felt I should do something…but what? My legs were like jelly. It struck me than that I wasn’t afraid for Lou but for myself.

     In my mind’s eye, I saw the thugs who had attacked me. Adam the chameleon’s laughter began ringing in my ears.

     I clenched my fists. Shaun noticed and misinterpreted the gesture. “Leave this to me, Rob,” he muttered and without another word lunged at Crolley. But Crolley saw him out of the corner of one eye and neatly sidestepped. Shaun went sprawling. Everyone expected Crolley to follow up his advantage and attack Shaun. Instead, he yanked on Maggie’s arm while Lou held on tightly to the other. Briefly, Maggie was caught in a tug-of-war. It was almost comical. Shaun scrambled to his feet and grabbed Crolley in a stranglehold. Nick responded by raising his right foot and kicking Shaun in the groin. Shaun stumbled backwards but kept a hold of sorts on his adversary.  They were rolling on the ground now, fists flying. The crowd surged eagerly forward to get a better view. Crolley landed a punch on Shaun’s jaw that left him momentarily dazed.

     Crolley wasted no time getting to his feet and making another grab for Maggie. While he appeared less drunk, neither had he sobered up completely. “Are you coming home with me or do I have to…”

     “What?” Maggie flared, “You’re in no fit state to get yourself home, let alone me - even if I wanted to go anywhere with you, which I damn well don’t. Home...? You call that pigsty a home? You’ve got to be joking.” She tugged her hand free of Lou’s and went right up to him. “You’re a joke, too, Nick, me too. We’re a joke, the pair of us. You and me, we’re just one big joke and I am sick, sick, SICK OF IT,” her voice rose hysterically.

     “That makes two of us!” Crolley yelled back at her, “But I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you Maggie Dillon and well you know it. Shall we tell everyone why?  Because you’re a sex mad cow and you can’t get enough of it, that’s why!”

      Now it was Maggie’s turn to lunge at Crolley. She would have clawed the skin from his face if he hadn’t caught hold of her wrists. Undeterred, she lashed out with her right foot and sent him flying. Maggie dived in for the kill. My feet suddenly took on new life. I grabbed her, kicking and screaming, by the waist.  “Let me go!” she screamed, “Let me at the bastard!” Meanwhile, Shaun was on his feet again. He grabbed Crolley from behind, twisting his arm behind his back until Nick cried out in agony. Shaun relaxed his hold only slightly, but it was enough to allow Nick to lash out again with a foot that landed a blow on Shaun’s shin.  Shaun lost his grip, fell against a wall and began hopping on one leg in obvious pain.

     Crolley looked around for Maggie, but she and Lou had fled into the crowd. He seemed to sense this and charged like a raging bull into the ring of open-mouthed spectators that had closed behind them.

     A woman screamed.

     I caught up with Nick seconds before he caught up with Maggie. There was no sign of Lou. I threw myself in front of Maggie before I had time to ask myself why I should want to protect someone for whom I had no time whatsoever. Crolley’s greasy head lunged at me. I braced myself for impact. Suddenly, rough hands pushed me aside. I stumbled, but saw the head cannon into something like a bullfighter’s cloak. I recognized Ed Mack wearing a red tee shirt and swore aloud.

      Ed’s left fist dealt Nick a blow in the face on the forehead. At the same time, he slammed his right fist into Nick’s stomach. Nick reeled. Ed caught hold of his Nick’s shirt and landed him one on the jaw. Nick dropped like a stone. The crowd roared its approval and there was sporadic clapping. Nick lay motionless on the round, bleeding profusely.

     This time it was Maggie who screamed. She rushed forward and knelt beside Nick, cradling his head in her lap and seemingly oblivious of the blood staining her hands and jeans. She glared at Ed and yelled, “You bastard, you’re no better than he is!”

     Shaun reappeared, a tearful Lou supporting him. “An ambulance is on its way. So are the police,” he added.

     “The police...? Shit!” this from Ed. “Why call the Old Bill, for crying out loud?  As if I haven’t got enough to worry about…”

     As if by magic, the crowd dispersed.

     I glanced despairingly at Maggie, now helping a dazed Nick Crolley to his feet. By the time I turned my back on them to ask Ed Mack what the hell he thought he was playing at, he too had left the scene. You owe him one Rob. My alter ego wasted no time reminding me. I turned a deaf ear.

     Maggie’s concern for Crolley was beyond belief. She gently eased the bloodied bandana from his head and used it to stem the flow of blood from his nose. “I don’t believe this,” I muttered to no one in particular.

     “Believe it,” Lou answered, “If ever love and hate were two sides of the same coin, Maggie’s the proof of it. Don’t be too hard on her, Rob. There’s a lot you don’t know.”   However, before I could take her up on this cryptic remark, Shaun was already leading her back into the pub.

     I left before the police arrived and learned later from Shaun that Crolley did not wait for the ambulance.      

     “What did you tell them?” I was anxious to know.

     Shaun grinned. “Not a lot,” he admitted. I breathed a sigh of relief that came as some surprise. I hadn’t realized just how desperately I didn’t want to see Ed in trouble with the law again. Like it or not, he had saved me from a beating. Besides, he was Billy’s brother. That had to count for something, too, didn’t it?

The next day, Clive Rider made one of his regular visits to the house, charmed my mother into providing a generous slice of homemade chocolate cake with a cup of fresh coffee then drove me to the site.

     The Connie was looking good. A team of interior decorators were making excellent progress. Clive told me he’d given them what amounted to carte blanche when it came to budget considerations so long as it meant the club would open in time for Halloween. “If you want a job done properly, Rob, never quibble about overtime. Keep the buggers sweet and they’ll see you right. There’s time enough to count the pennies once you’ve beaten the clock. If we’re not open for Halloween, we’ll lose a small fortune.” As always, his matter-of-factness left me gobsmacked.

     We had lunch at a popular Chinese restaurant about half an hour’s miles drive away during which I told Clive I wanted Shaun on my staff.

      “So tell him to apply.”

     “What’s the point? I need Shaun. I thought he and Lou could have the caretaker’s flat.”

     “Lou?”

     “His wife,” I said, nonchalantly I hoped. I sensed Rider would not appreciate my sounding too enthusiastic.

     “I see. Yes, well, cosy,” he responded with the kind of sarcasm I’d come to expect from the man.

     “He’s a damn good barman and a handy guy to have around. Not only a jack-of-all-trades but also master of most, that’s Shaun. I’d trust him with my life. Lou could help with the cleaning.”

     “Okay,” he agreed.

     “What, just like that?” I could disguise neither my surprise nor relief.

     Clive shrugged. “Forget about love, Rob. There’s only one thing money can’t buy and that’s trust, a turn up for the book whatever line you’re in. If it’s a rare enough find in everyday life, in business it’s nothing short of a bloody miracle. Oh, you can scoff. But business can be a real burden. A burden shared is a burden halved. A burden halved saves time and money. If you trust this Shaun with your life, that’s got to be good for my business. Just one thing...”

     “What’s that?”

     “Is he likely to jump when you say jump or tell you that’s no way to treat a mate?”

     I fancied I could hear Bo Devine whispering in my ear. Good staff will always jump when you say jump, dear heart. The best prefer to be asked nicely. I repeated the adage to Clive Rider. He roared with laugher. “If that isn’t Bo Devine talking, I’ll eat my hat! The old rascal’s taught you well. Okay, young Rob, you can tell your friends the flat’s theirs. But on your head be it if they give me any cause got regret. I did think you might want the flat for yourself.”

     “And be on call 24/7? No thanks. I’ll leave that to Shaun and Lou. Me, I’ll stay at home a while longer. Besides, I dare say there will be a sofa bed in my office.”

     “I dare say,” Rider chuckled.

     “There’s something else…”

     “Oh? And why am I not surprised?” But if the tone was jocular enough, a shrewd expression in the beady eyes gave me good cause to swallow nervously. “Not another friend on the make I hope?”

     “Not exactly,” I hedged, “but he’ll make a damn good bouncer. This is a rough area and we’ve never had anything like The Connie around here. Ed’s just what we need.”

     “Ed?”

     “Ed Mack.”

     “That would be…”

     “Billy Mack’s brother, yes.”

     “So what’s the hang-up?” Clive frowned and gave me a long, old-fashioned look. I squirmed in my seat. “You were very positive about Shaun. I like that. You have to be positive in business or you might as well go into a monastery. Now you’re acting as if this Ed has shoved ants down your pants.”

     “He’s been in prison.”

     “Tell me something new. Everyone knows about that robbery he was involved in. Give me one good reason why I should give someone like that a second chance.”

     “Doesn’t everyone deserve one?” I countered with a show of confidence that amounted to a blatant lie.

     “You are such a greenhorn Rob. Oh, you’re good, I grant you that. But you’ve got a lot to learn.”

     “Is that a no?”

     “It would be if we were we talking about anyone else. As it is, word will get round and he’ll get the punters in. The gutter press will love it. I can see the headlines now, ‘Ex-con working at the scene of kid brother’s murder.’  So, yes, by all means offer the job to Ed Mack. Only, keep in mind that it’s not only your back you’ll be watching but mine too.”

     “You’ll see them then, Shaun and Ed.”

     Clive shook his head. “I trust your judgement. You know these people. You’re willing to put your head on the block for them, and that’s good enough for me. I could interview them for hours, and still not see what you see in them.”

     “You’d trust a greenhorn?”

     “Bananas did, and he’s one of the few people for whom I’ve always had the greatest respect.”

     “Is that why you bought him out?” I couldn’t disguise my resentment and sensed Rider was being facetious. “That café was his whole life.”

     “If you believe that, you’ll believe anything. The cafe was Ma B’s baby. Now, she was his life. He only stuck it out for her sake. Now she’s gone, he’s free to do what he’s always wanted to do which is travel and see the world. I didn’t force Bananas to sell, Rob. Do you honestly think anyone could make Bananas do something he didn’t want to do?” I shook my head. “Too right, they couldn’t. He’s one in a million that old man. I’d trust him with my life the same as you would your friend Shaun. He has a mind as sharp as a needle too. If he says someone is kosher, I believe him.”

     “And he thinks I’m kosher?” I grinned.

     “He thinks you’re bloody marvellous. I can’t think why.  Not quite yet, anyhow. I can’t wait to find out though.” We both laughed. If there was an edge to the sound, we chose to ignore it.

I saw no reason to tell Clive that I suspected Ed Mack would turn me down flat. Instead, I continued to do battle with a largely unyielding crab while we went over interview times and dates for a shortlist of job applicants I had drawn up.

     Later, as I made my way to what I still thought of as Billy’s house, I vowed to master the art of eating crab if it killed me.

     As I waited for someone to come to the front door, I found myself recalling the day Billy and I spent in Brighton. Had it really only been a few months ago?  It felt like years. I even had difficulty recalling Billy’s face. But I was getting used to that now and felt marginally less guilty. Even so, what did it say about my love for Billy? Had it been so shallow that it could fade so quickly?  Then my mind’s eye would clear, Billy’s handsome profile fully restored. If I was aware of a gradual letting go, it was a nebulous process, not unlike admiring a butterfly in a cup of hands before setting it free. Oh, but I’d have given anything for him to fling open the door now, a huge grin on his face. I’d be in heaven, letting his easy banter wrap me in all the warmth and tenderness of a kiss.

     Suddenly, I was aware of another sensation. Only this time it was a touch of silk embracing my whole body as Matthew Jordan’s face yet again, albeit fleetingly, superimposed itself on Billy’s.

     “Oh, it’s you.” It was Billy’s mother who opened the door. I hadn’t seen her since the inquest. She looked smaller, frailer, than I remembered. Her face as expressionless as her voice, I couldn’t tell if she was pleased to see me or not.