Chapter Twenty-Two

There were two new chapters added this weekend incase you missed the first one!

Chapter Twenty-Two

How many times could you blackout without causing yourself serious brain damage? That was the only thought I had when I opened my eyes for the second time that day, and once again having no idea what I would see around me.

They had moved me, I was no longer in that cramped van that smelt like an open toilet. I was sitting up, and the air smelt vaguely of lemon, the sort of sterile bleach lemon smell I associate with the school nurses office.

My legs were numb, and I panicked for a moment that they had paralysed me when they moved me, but I felt that familiar painful tingling sensation, pins and needles, nothing more serious. My head was still throbbing with pain through, and the bright lights I had awaked to were stinging me, I viewed the room through half closed eyes to avoid looking directly at them.

It looked like a lawyer’s office. There was a cheese plant in one corner of the room, on a thick grey carpet, an oak desk lay out in front of me, and the chair I was sitting in was a spinning brown padded office chair. There was a large stack of papers on the desk and big open windows behind it. I saw the tourist district of Havana through the window, with expensive shops and bars.

Behind the desk sat a man with a receding hairline and rimless glasses, he couldn’t have been older than forty, but his eyes were sagging and tinged with red. His suit was a badly crumpled, thick creases ran through a symbol I recognised, a clove of garlic in silver thread

The man had his hands folded together on the desk, and was looking at me with patience, yet he still looked angry, as if he had better things to do, but this was a welcome distraction for him anyway. As everything slid into focus, I heard the familiar office sounds in the background, a photocopier started up and casual laughter rang through the room.

As soon as I had opened my eyes fully the man in front of me opened his mouth.

‘Good afternoon Lawrence, may I call you Lawrence?’

I was so happy to hear his Brummie accent that I didn’t care how he knew my name, I didn’t care where I was. His voice was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard.

‘My name is Thompson, but you can call me Robert,’ He extended his hand for me to shake, I didn’t take it, only because I still wasn’t moving and functioning properly. I wondered if I were still dreaming, if I was still passed out on the street. The only move I made was to pinch myself, which I almost managed, though my arm felt like lead.

Robert Thompson laughed at me, ‘No,’ he said, ‘I can assure you, you are fully awake. It may take you some time to recover though, you’ve been moving a little too much after receiving your head injury.’

‘Where am I?’ I asked, even my voice was heavy, my tongue felt like a dead slab of meat in my mouth.

‘A local law firm has kindly given us use of this office, just for the moment.’ Robert said, he smiled at me and I wondered how he had much a large bald patch on his head when his impressive moustache seemed like it would take an army to budge. The hair on his head hung down like a shower curtain in one of those circular booths.

‘Now,’ Robert went on, he picked up some papers from the desk and shuffled them, looking official. ‘I am the British representative for Project forty five, so, technically I’m in charge of you.’

I sat up like I had a cannon under my seat. ‘Project forty five?’

‘Yes,’ he said briskly, ‘I can tell you it’s going to take a lot of work to get you cleared this time. Our European associates have had just about enough of the P.V.R this time.’

‘P.V.R?’

He ignored me. ‘Do you have any idea the damage you caused to yet another major investigation? That girl’s life is in danger because of you.’ He shook his head heavily and sighed, ‘with fresh V.B there’s a change she could’ve survived, at least until rehabilitation.’

‘What the fuck are you on about?’ I asked angrily, I had only just found someone who spoke my language, but Robert Thompson might as well have been speaking ancient Greek at me.

‘Here’s one thing you will understand,’ Robert said, he didn’t even flinch when I swore, he really was from the midlands, and he was in Cuba. If I wasn’t so confused I would’ve been laughing. ‘Where is Lisa Taylor?’

‘I don’t know,’ I answered honestly. For all I knew, she could be in Mexico.

Robert sighed, ‘I understand your situation,’ he said. ‘For you, things aren’t so bad, catch the next flight back to England and we’ll never bother you again, providing you never interfere with another investigation. For Lisa, things don’t look too good.’

‘I don’t know where she is,’ I repeated. ‘And I don’t care.’ I shrugged and looked away from him, at the moment it really was how I felt, I didn’t know why things weren’t okay for her, but whatever happened it was probably less than she deserved.

Robert laughed, the sound made me cringe, it was so joyless and official. ‘We know all about Lisa’s past, after Afghanistan, I imagine she’s some kind of poster girl for the P.V.R.’

‘You have the wrong woman,’ I said. ‘Lisa has never been to Afghanistan, and I have no idea what The P.V.R is.’

He laughed again, I heard the photocopier crashing in the office behind me, a microwave beeped angrily. ‘Don’t be so cocky with me, we know about your little visit to Jarl Hansson.’

‘How?’ My voice crocked.

‘Lisa Taylor isn’t as talented with a computer as she’d like to think,’ Robert snorted, I was starting to dislike this stuffy little man more every second. When he stood up I would’ve bet his head didn’t reach my chin. ‘When you dig around in Government files, you leave a trace, and that makes you very easy to find.’

Flashes started to run through my mind, everything Lisa had done, all the police files she had shown me, all the times she lied to get what she wanted. There was every chance she had lied to me about everything, she was so good at it I didn’t really know who she was at all. I felt so stupid, I had travelled halfway across the world with her. Maybe Robert Thompson was right, maybe she was involved in this P.V.R, whatever it was.

‘You have to understand something,’ I told Robert, my voice still heavy and coming out with a rasping tone following each word. ‘Lisa Taylor is dangerous, she’s prepared to do anything to get what she wants.’

He smiled, ‘Alexander Donelly is very dangerous too,’ he said in a mocking voice.

‘Alex,’ I said softly, Lisa would give her right arm to hear the name I had just heard. ‘Who is he?’

‘The P.V.R would like to imagine that he’s some scared, lost boy,’ Robert turned his chair to face the window, as he looked out over the city, the sun sparkled from his bald head. ‘But he is a criminal. You know as well as I do that Criminals have to be apprehended, he has to be arrested and taken to rehabilitation before he can hurt anyone else.’

‘Rehabilitation?’

‘You and all others like you seem convinced we want to do away with these people, kill the, sweep them under the rug,’ Robert sighed, ‘all we want is to help them.’

‘Where is this rehabilitation centre?’

Robert smiled smugly, ‘You know I would never reveal the location to anyone from your organisation.’

A sound like a key opening a lock played in my mind, ‘France,’ I whispered under my breath. I couldn’t help but smile to myself, ‘an exclusive rehab centre in France,’ how many times had I heard those words over the last few months?

‘Lets pretend I didn’t know anything about this,’ I tried another angle, ‘and I asked what the P.V.R was, what would you tell me?’

Robert got up from his chair and peered into the office, convinced that no one was listening, he turned back to me with a sneer on the thin lips below his gigantic moustache, ‘people for Vampire rights, of course.’

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

I saw the grey concrete spread out before me, it seemed an endless mass, as if someone had paved over the ocean. I forgot where I was and panicked for a moment, I wondered what had happened to my flat and my comfortable life.

It wasn’t until I started to struggle that my chest pushed into the ground. I wasn’t looking at a world of grey, I was just facing the floor. I heard heavy voices speaking near me and remembered everything, Lisa, being chased, the blow to the head and blacking out. I stayed very still even though the angle I was laying in made it painful to breath quietly.

The people I heard spoke in French, in thick guttural accents. I turned my head as much as I dared and I saw the wheels of an old van resting against the pavement. I saw smart shoes coming from a grey suit, almost the same colour as the ground. Then I heard a scream.

I recognised the scream the instant it began, though it was soon muffled out by the French voices. What I had witnessed in that small apartment would stay with me for a long time, and Maria’s desperate, pained cry was all too familiar. I almost tried to get onto my feet when I heard it, but I held the illusion that I was still knocked out. I didn’t know who these people were or what they wanted, it was safer to let them pass by if they were going to do so.

It didn’t last for long, I was pushing my face into the concrete to make my breathing less obvious and trying to keep still but maybe something twitched or maybe my act had worked but I was just in the wrong place.

Rough hands grabbed my forearms and hoisted me upwards. The monk statue was still glaring at me, the steel pushing into view with my rude awakening. I couldn’t understand anything the men were saying, were they asking me questions? My head still throbbed painfully and their frustrating, rapid speech wasn’t helping.

Heavy fingers dug into me as I was pulled onto my feet. When they let go I felt myself stumbling forwards again. The black spots refused to leave my eyes and I was shaking and wobbling on my. They were still talking, either at me or at each other, but their faces were so blurred I had no idea. One thing that was clear was the emblem on their grey suits, a simple glove of garlic embroidered with silver thread.

I was pushed roughly, all the time with the hoarse French voices barking at me. I tried to tell them that I didn’t understand, but my weak voice was drowned out, my head was throbbing so badly that I thought I was going to pass out again. I closed my eyes for just a second and my head rolled onto my chest, I collapsed forward but was bought crashing back to consciousness by being yanked up again.

The doors of a white van slid open in front of me, the same van I had seen from my waking view of the pavement. I should’ve fought back, but I could still barely stand, and my vision was only just getting back to normal, the black spots were still invading. Before I could do anything, or say anything that might be heard, I was pushed head first into the van. The door crashed loudly behind me and I was locked inside. I tried weakly beating my fists on the doors but they made no impression. Any type of physical activity made me feel dizzy.

Behind me there was a stretcher, it was bolted to the floor, and there was someone lying in it, I could hear their breathing. A drip was feeding blood through a narrow tube, and I realised how much the van stank of raw sewage and rotting food. I pressed my hand to my mouth.

Maria was tied to the bed with leather straps, but she looked serene and comfortable at the moment. Her face was so pale it was hard to make out any features I looked at the drip and then at her calm face, it was the same look she had in the cramped apartment after drinking from that cup. Somehow this was worse than the screaming.

I approached her carefully, moving along the floor on my knees, the van shook a little with me. I imagined she must’ve been pretty before all of this, her eyes were hollow and staring, her cheekbones corpse like. While I was revisiting my memories I made a connection, like it was always waiting in my mind and I had been too stupid to see it before.

‘Do you speak English?’ I asked. I wasn’t sure how much sense I would get out of her but I had to try.

She nodded, it was hard to see in the half light provided only by the crack in the van’s doors. ‘Little,’ she said in a voice that was so soft I wasn’t sure if it was just a breath that sounded like words.

‘You have to help me,’ she looked back blankly. I tried another tactic, ‘Alex,’ I said, and her eyes widened. I pointed to the bump on my head, hopefully she could see it, ‘I think Alex did this.’ I think she understood me this time, there was a brief rationality on her wasted face.

‘Did Alex touch you?’ I asked, she stared at me with glazed eyes. ‘Alex,’ I repeated, and I touch her arm. She screamed and I snatched my hand away. I made a sympathetic face while I waited for her to stop screaming, I hoped the shushing noise was universal.

‘When Alex,’ I made the motion of touching her again but I was wiser this time. ‘Did it feel like, everything was okay? There was no pain?’ I was really clutching at straws, she didn’t understand a word of what I’d said. I only saw Teresa in my mind, and I remembered what I had felt lying in the pavement.

‘Do you know where Alex is?’ I asked hopefully, I felt that she was overestimating when she said she knew a little English. I did what any Brit on holiday does, I shouted. ‘WHERE IS ALEX?’

That didn’t help at all, I frightened her as she flinched at my voice. ‘Alex,’ she said softly, pleadingly, at least she understood that word. I put my head in my hands. I almost wished Lisa was with me, then I remembered, I needed to warn Maria about Lisa. She would stop at nothing to get what she wanted, I knew that now, and Maria’s knowledge about Alex put her at risk. That’s if the poor girl made it through the night, every time she spoke a hollow rasping sound followed her words.

‘No baby,’ she said. This time I was the one who stared at her in blank incomprehension.

‘No baby,’ she said again. She pointed with her withered hand at her stomach. ‘No baby.’

‘You’re not pregnant,’ I clicked, ‘but why did you tell your family you were?’

It was useless, of course, why did I keep talking? ‘No baby,’ she repeated one more time.

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ I snapped angrily.

‘I being born.’ She whispered. I didn’t get a chance to respond to this because I heard something from outside that bought relief crashing through me. An English accent, only an Englishman could butcher the French language like that.

I moved as quickly as I could in my crouched position to the van’s doors and banged loudly. ‘I need to speak to you!’ I shouted hoarsely through the gap. I had moved too fast though, and my head started swimming again. I fell forward and bashed against the metal with a harsh scrape, the black spots returned to my eyes as I tumbled over.

Chapter Twenty

New project 45 promotional video is up!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=us3CDpI-iQM

Chapter Twenty

As I felt something like death’s icy breath brush my skin I had an experience halfway between a memory and a dream.

It had happened, I know it had because I could remember it in every day life, sometimes it crept into my head all on it’s own. That warm had that had relieved me of my pain for a few short moments was the trigger, for that weightless second she was there again and it was as though the two years since had never happened.

I knew in my deeper thoughts that I was still face down on the pavement, but there was still this image of Teresa that pushed though. She wasn’t exactly as I knew her, time had smoothed out all her flaws so that she appeared a beautiful ethereal Goddess.

I only ever had one night with her, and it was my only one night stand. Trust me, I’m not the type of man who goes to bars in the hope of sleeping with someone. That’s mostly because I know I never have a chance of sleeping with anyone, I don’t make a first good impression, and I’ve tried letting my personality win over my physical flaws, but it’s never worked.

When they bought in the smoking ban, instead of the heady and toxic smell of ash that hits the back of your throat, all you smell at a club is people. Sweat and dirt and the stench of a hundred bodies rubbing together, I imagine that’s what an orgy smells like. I was waiting for my friends to finish their drinking and dancing, sitting in an empty corner of the bar. It was late so the only people left on the seats were kissing couples and those few who actually made a connection and were shouting into each other’s ears.

There were more men like me occupying the empty tables near me, though instead of being fed up with the atmosphere and the smell, they were nursing their last drink of the night and thinking of that girl they almost kissed.

I wish I could say she drifted in like a dream, but my table was situated uncomfortably close to the bathroom, and she stumbled through the door and crashed right into my table. My beer wobbled pathetically and then rolled onto its side, she jumped out of the way but my trousers got the full hit, the worst part of the trousers too. I stood up surveying the damage helplessly.

She looked mortified. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she shouted over the din of music.

I ignored her, angry that my awful night had ended in embarrassment. I used a few paper napkins to dab some of the beer off, but there was little visible effect.

I saw her hand move to the one remaining napkin on the table. ‘Let me help,’ she screamed in my ear.

‘No,’ I immediately shouted back, I didn’t want some random drunk girl to be that close to my private area.

‘Can I at least buy you another one?’ She shouted.

‘The bar is about to shut,’ I said.

‘What?’

‘The bar is about to shut,’ I screamed. I hoped that would get rid of her, there were no other pleasantries to exchange. My new plan was to get a cab straight home, I could phone one of my friends in the morning. I didn’t think they would miss me anyway, there was no chance I would be invited out again after being such a let down tonight.

‘Can I please buy you a drink?’ She said, she seemed to be talking softer, but I heard every word. ‘They’re not closed yet.’

I looked at her for the first time, really looked passed the drunk girl at a club. She had dark blonde hair that was pulled up tightly, the ponytail streamed over her shoulder, over some bright spangled top hung with silver sequins. She was attractive, very attractive, she had big rose bud lips and pale blue eyes which glittered in the dull light and the reflection from her clothes.

‘Why the hell not,’ I forced a smile. She was out of my league, I didn’t expect anything to happen, but the idea of walking through the club with suspicious stains on my trousers filled me with a sudden dread.

She returned with two bottles of beer, when she clinked hers on mine a little froth landed on my shirt. She grimaced apologetically and I shrugged.

‘You don’t belong here,’ she smiled.

‘How could you tell?’ I shouted back. As I finished my sentence the lights flared up and the music stopped, the dim light was replaced by a blinding neon glow. I squinted as I heard drunken cries from below, some still singing along to the last song. The great hurricane of feet making their way down the stairs was intercut with the loud boom of the bouncers barking orders at the crowd.

She made no attempt to move, no one asked us to leave. Then I felt an unexplained shiver run down my spine, the bar had definitely been closed. She just smiled at me and sipped her beer.

‘Finally we can talk,’ she said.

‘I think someone’s going to kick us out,’ I said looking about nervously.

She shook her head and continued to smile.

‘What about my friends,’ I ventured, ‘they’re going to worry about where I am.’ I was starting to feel uncomfortable. She didn’t look drunk at all, and I could feel all the beer I’d had swirling in my stomach.

‘They don’t care,’ she said. ‘You spent all night avoiding them.’

‘How did you know that?’

She fixed her pale eyes on mine and I felt that shiver ripple through me again. ‘Lawrence,’ she said calmly in a half whisper, ‘come home with me.’

‘Okay.’ I didn’t even ask how she knew my name, my head was clear of all doubt.

The streets were deserted as we hit the cold air. The club had only just closed, there should’ve been a queue outside the kebab shop, there should’ve been a crowd still fighting over taxis. There was no one, and I could see the sun trying to force its way out of the darkness.

‘I’m Teresa,’ I had been about to ask her name but the words hadn’t come yet. I didn’t question it, she had her arm around me.

I don’t remember the journey back to hers, I strain my mind but I can’t grasp any details. When I think about that night I think about the cold air and the deserted street. I think about her eyes glittering and her sweet full lipped smile, but that’s all I can hold onto.

She took me up a narrow stairway into a room with red draped everywhere. There were red curtains tumbling too long and spilling onto the floor, a red bedspread and a deep plumb red colour on the walls. She kissed me in this red room, her lips were sweet under the faint tang of the beer she had just drunk and she placed her hands on my back and pushed me into her. I’m only a man, of course I reacted to having her body so close.

Not one word had been exchanged between us since she had told me her name, but it didn’t matter as she pulled my shirt off and started to undo my belt. Before I could make sense of the situation we were both naked. I found myself transfixed by her small breasts and the shadow of her ribs. She pulled me to the bed.

‘Wait,’ it felt strange to be speaking, my words felt slurred and clumsy. I found my wallet in my jeans pocket, because every man has one in his wallet, right?

She saw what I was doing and still without speaking she took it out of my hands and shook her head. It was awkward, how did I know she didn’t do this every weekend? She was beautiful and could probably have anyone she wanted, I just wasn’t sure if I wanted them too. I felt my hardness slipping embarrassingly away.

There was a moment when the air seemed to stand still, nothing moved, even the loose strands of her hair didn’t blow in the breeze from the open window. I was scared, blinking wildly, my heart racing. She took my hands in hers and looked into my eyes. She didn’t just look at me, she saw through me, she saw everything that had been and she knew who I was.

I was ready to get my clothes back on and leave, the intensity of her eyes was painful. She placed her hand on the back of my head and that warm touch was enough to destroy all my fear, I saw flashes of blue cross the red walls. She pulled me back onto the bed and kissed me again.

It was as if the room were spinning, all the shades of red blurred together as I found my way inside her. She held my head in her hands and fixed my eyes on hers, she never broke the gaze. Her touch was warm and she made quiet shallow sounds, pulling me into her. I didn’t want to finish, I felt such a clarity, I was cleansing myself of so much. My hopeless life and all my disappointment was absolved in a moment. Maybe this was it, the life changing sex that no one really has.

It was her eyes, I still felt that she knew me and accepted me, and I wasn’t afraid of that anymore, I just let myself drown. But it couldn’t last forever, and I was soon sleeping like a baby as she ran her warm fingers through my hair.

When I woke the next day she was gone. I had to tiptoe out of an empty house with no clue how to get home, and I didn’t have her number. All I had was a name and one night. My legs were shaking as I found my way to a train station, I didn’t think it would get any better than that. I resolved to start living after that night.