Thorn In My Side (6 page)

The very first
day at infant school was when he’d met Danny. A lot of the other
kids had shied away from him because his skin was a few shades
darker than theirs, but not Danny. Danny had come bouncing over, an
exact replica of the Milky Bar Kid with his white- blond hair and
face full of smiles. Over the years Danny’s hair had darkened to a
dull gold, but he smiled just as much and still had the gift of the
gab.

Evan sighed.
He’d bet every thing he had that he could probably guess just what
was wrong this time.

Evan counted.
One, Danny was half cut by nine o'clock.

Two, he’s had
a face like a slapped arse all night.

Three, he
only wants to come to this dive when he doesn’t want
to
talk.

Four, put
money on it, the daft sod’s had a major row with Shelly.

Evan tutted
under his breath as he watched Danny down the remains of his drink
then stand up and stagger dangerously to the bar for a refill.

Bet he’s even
forgotten that I’m here!

'Knew it,' Evan
said a few minutes later, as Danny, with the exaggerated care of a
drunk, put one drink in front of his own seat.

'What?' Danny
slurred, practically falling into the seat. Struggling to sit up,
watched by a frowning Evan, he said again, 'What?'

Evan raised his
empty glass, 'Drinking on your own, like?'

Shrugging,
Danny put his hands in his pockets and stretched his legs out in
front of him, crossing his right foot over his left and staring
glumly at the floor.

'That’s it,
I’ve had enough.' Putting his glass down on the table, Evan jumped
up and hoisted Danny out of his chair.

'Oi, what do
you think you’re doing?' Danny slurred, as he struggled with
Evan.

'We’re going
outside for a walk until you tell me what the hell’s eating
you.'

'But, but it’s…
it’s pissh… pisshing down.'

'Good, you’ll
sober up that much quicker.'

'Really don’t
wanna go,' Danny protested, slowly shaking his head as Evan
practically dragged him to the door.

Outside the
rain had eased off and the fresh air hit Danny like a shock wave
from a bomb blast. 'Oh, oh, gonna be sick.'

'Not over me
you’re not.' Quickly Evan spun him round so that he was facing the
gutter.

Danny emptied
the entire contents of his stomach into the drain. Then, head still
spinning and muttering under his breath, he allowed Evan to steer
him back into the nightclub where, thank God, Evan thought, the
toilets were near the door.

Fifteen minutes
later they were back outside. Danny was semi- sober and feeling
lousy. Evan had practically drowned him under the sink taps, and
now he was starving. 'Kebabs?' he asked, raising his eyebrows.

'Ahh… How could
you, sicko? I can still smell the bloody garlic you had at tea
time, even though most of it's on the way to the North Sea, or
wherever the hell it goes to from the drains.' He held his hand up.
'And really, I’m not that interested before you get into
detail.'

Danny allowed
himself a small smile, before sighing deeply and saying, 'She
didn’t come home last night.'

'Thought it was
something like that. Had a row?'

'Sort of.'

'Sort of?'

Grimacing,
Danny headed towards a wooden bench. When they had both sat down he
went on slowly, still slurring his words now and again. 'Well, you
know what it’s like. It’s these new people she’s been hanging
around with, filling her head full of nonsense, babbling on about
the Lindisfarne Gospels and how much more important they are than
people realise. She said I wasn’t interested in anything she does…
Don’t listen enough.'

'Do you?'

'Do I
what?'

'Listen to her,
thicko.'

'Not when she’s
babbling on about that bunch of raving loonies, and spending most
of her time on bloody Holy Island.'

Evan winced. It
was his girl friend Alicia who had introduced Shelly to those
weirdoes, as Danny so nicely called them.

Not feeling
inclined to remind Danny of this, he fell silent as a group of
drunken youths appeared, all of them carrying cans of beer and
swigging from them as they walked, the noise they were making
preceding them. They had been amiably laughing their way along the
street when they suddenly started arguing. Within moments the
arguing changed to fighting. Danny felt Evan tense beside him. He
put a restraining hand on his friend, who all their lives had
seemed to have a compulsion about helping people.
All well and
good but not if it puts you in danger
, was Danny’s motto.

'Leave it,' he
hissed at Evan.

For a moment
Danny thought Evan was going to let it go. There were after all
plenty of them to sort it out amongst themselves, and it looked
like they were going to do exactly that, as one tall, thin lad, his
blond hair spiked a good three or four inches out from his scalp,
stepped forward. 'OK, Jase, he didn’t mean it, come on. It’s been a
fucking good night….'

Suddenly Jase,
who had another boy pinned on the ground with one foot on his chest
and was about to kick him in his face, spun round. Before Blondie
knew it there was a knife at his throat, and most of his friends,
including the one on the ground, had melted away into the
night.

'Hey,' Evan
shouted, jumping up from the bench.

Danny groaned
loudly. 'You just had to, didn’t you? Eh, just leave it alone.
Evan, come on.'

Ignoring Danny,
Evan moved closer. 'Calm down, mate, and let him go.'

'You talking to
me, mister?' The boy with the knife snarled, his features twisted
in a drug-induced rage. 'Well, fuck you, and I ain’t your
mate…'

Suddenly he
jumped back dragging the other boy with him. Planting his feet in a
boxer’s stance he yelled, 'Come on,' as he gestured with his left
hand for Evan to move closer. 'Come on.'

Even though he
felt nervous, Evan’s voice was calm and slow. 'Yes, I’m talking to
you, and OK, I’m not your mate but he is and I’m sure if you think
about it that you don’t really want to hurt him.'

'What’s it to
you? Hu, fuck off and mind your own business, prick face.'

Evan moved
forward, his empty hands outstretched in front of him, as Danny,
agitated with worry that the druggie might do something stupid,
shouted, 'Come on, Evan, leave it.'

'Yeah, Evan,
leave it or you’re next.' Grinning he dug the blade into his
friend’s neck -- not hard enough to do any real damage, just a
nick, but big enough to cause Blondie’s blood to flow.

Ignoring the
danger, Evan shook his head and moved closer. 'Just let him go,
man. Come on, don’t be daft -- he can’t be worth a life in the
nick.'

'Evan, come on,
leave it. The bastard's drugged up to his eyeballs, he’s a friggin’
psycho nut.' Danny was becoming more nervous by the second.
After all,
he thought,
you hear every day of someone
stopping to help people and getting their heads kicked in for
their
bother. And their lives are never the same
again.

The extra
adrenalin rushing through his system had certainly fully sobered
him up and he was now thinking straight.

Evan knew Danny
was right, but Blondie’s eyes were pleading with him to help. He
couldn’t walk away and leave the lad on his own, not with this
crazed fool. He’d never be able to live with himself if something
happened. His heart beating a little faster, he moved closer.

That was the
moment that Psycho Nut chose to slash out with his knife.

Side-stepping
neatly, Evan jerked his body to the side, but the blade caught his
arm, ripping it open nearly to the bone.

'Bastard!'
Danny screamed, rushing forward to defend Evan who was clutching
his arm in shock. The youth, his blood lust fulfilled and in shock
himself when it sank in just what he had done, backed off, then,
turning quickly, ran away. His blond friend, hand pressed over the
cut in his neck, followed him.

'See, see what
happens.' Danny was agitatedly bobbing about. 'I’ll get you, crazy
fuck bastard!' Shaking his fists in the air, he screamed at the
retreating figures.

He led Evan
over to the bench, whipped his blue T-shirt off and pressed it
against the wound. 'Sit down and don’t move, promise you won’t
move, mate.'

Evan nodded,
his eyes glazing over in shock.

'I’m gonna get
help, phone from the club.'

'No, no need.'
Evan groaned, the pain biting in.

'Yes, there is,
mate. The blood’s pouring out of you, and God knows where that
blade’s been. Ohh, the druggie bastard!' Danny ground his teeth
together and clenched his fist, staring up the now deserted
road.

'Danny, use…'
Evan shook his head slowly as Danny took off before he could stop
him. Pressing his arm into his body and bringing his foot up on the
bench, he used his leg to keep the T-shirt in place. With his good
hand he took his mobile phone out of his pocket and stared at it,
wondering whether to phone an ambulance himself. He decided not to.
The ambulance service wouldn’t take too kindly to being called out
twice for the same incident.

She made it
across the old bridge, which had been built in 1611, and now was
one way only but not, thank God, on foot. Looking frequently behind
her, leaving bloody footprints, she slowed as she came to the end,
looked all around, then quickly crossed the road to get out of the
way of the street lights and sat down with her back against the
wall in a dark corner.

Huddled in on
herself she wondered again how she’d managed to escape, and prayed
her luck hadn’t run out. It had been luck that had made her lunge
to the left, catching the smaller man unawares. In other
circumstances she would have laughed at the girly scream that had
come out of him when she’d bitten down hard.

She had to rest
now. Her body could only take so much at a time, and she was
burning up energy quickly, far too quickly. At this rate she
wouldn’t even get out into the fields.

Two cars came
speeding across the bridge, their headlights cutting huge swathes
of light in the dark. Pushing her body flat against the wall, she
prayed that they couldn’t see her.

Because of the
angle of the jutting wall, the lights went up the outside of the
wall and over her head. She remembered to breathe a few minutes
later.

What a
mess!

What a fucking
mess!

She stared down
at her bleeding feet and wanted to cry. She had never felt more
alone in her whole life.

The hospital
was relatively quiet, four or five sitting in the waiting area,
with another three outside smoking their heads off under the No
Smoking sign as the ambulance carrying Evan and Danny pulled up to
the doors.

'I hate these
places,' Danny muttered, jumping down from the ambulance as the
paramedic helped Evan down and took them up to the reception.
Giving what details he had to the receptionist, he left them to
fill in the blanks as he hurried back to his waiting ambulance,
which had already received another call.

As they sat
down, Danny looked at the red-lit moving sign on the wall. 'Bloody
hell, two hours waiting time… Shocking.'

Evan sighed.
His arm was giving him pain and he felt totally exhausted, which he
put down to blood loss. He could still feel it oozing out and
running down his arm. 'Go home if you want,' he snapped, not
meaning it to come out sounding the way it did, but Danny took no
offence.

'Don’t be
bloody stupid, man, would you leave me?'

'Well, stop
whining then.'

'Sorry.'

'We won’t be
that long anyhow. It’s hardly bleeding at all now. Only a couple of
stitches, the medic said.'

Danny grunted,
then pulled his feet off the seat in front as a middle-aged woman
and a younger one, obviously her daughter and sporting a
spectacular black eye, sat down.

When they were
settled, the younger one said, 'Mam, what am I doing here?'

'He hit you,'
her mother stated with anger in her voice.

She took a
moment to digest this, then went on, 'Who’s got the kids?'

'Your brother’s
got them.'

This went on
for more than an hour, the same two questions over and over.
Everyone sitting there realised that the poor girl was suffering
concussion, and her mind was on a loop. Finally, after what seemed
the hundredth time, she got as far as. 'Mam…'

'He hit you,
and your brother’s got the kids,' Danny, unable to stand any more,
said quickly.

There were
sniggers from the waiting people, one or two belly laughs, plus a
dig in the ribs from Evan.

The younger
woman turned and gave him a soulful look, which made Danny feel
about two feet tall, even though the mother's lips had twitched in
a semblance of a smile.

Two and a half
hours later, plus three stitches, they were climbing out of a taxi
at Evan’s flat. Danny fumbled for change as Evan, looking at the
dark windows, said, 'Alicia must have gone to bed.'

'Can you blame
her? It’s bloody four o'clock in the morning, mate… Keep the
change,' he nodded at the taxi driver.

'I’m not that
friggin’ hard up.' The man threw five pence at him then pulled
away.

'Ungrateful
sod.' Danny glared at the taxi.

Evan stared at
his friend, and shook his head, 'Sometimes...'

'What?' Danny
held his hands up, feigning amazement.

'Never mind.
Are you coming up?'

'No, I’ll see
you in the morning.'

'It is the
morning.'

'Yeah, see you
later in the morning… Actually,' Danny yawned, 'it’ll probably be
tomorrow morning.' He walked away, and Evan went up to his
flat.

Quietly Evan
opened the door, not wanting to wake Alicia. They had decided not
to worry her -- after all, his injury was far from
life-threatening. They just didn’t hadn’t thought it would take
this long. He knew though that she would go spare when she woke
up.