Episode 6 in the Danny and Jack chronicles, following on from Day of Rest.
"Where are we going Al?" Wherever it was, I hoped it was close. My nerves couldn't take much more of Ally's driving. I closed my eyes as she kangaroo jumped the car through a junction causing other traffic to brake and swerve.
"To a place I used to know called The Snake pit. Call it a trip down memory lane, a journey of rediscovery; at least it will be for me. You can come along for the ride, you might even enjoy it. Jack's a grand man Danny, he'll always be there for you. But don't forget, you're only a kid, enjoy yourself while you can, cos one of these days, brother of mine, it all ends and you realise that in the great scheme of things you're a nobody who's done nowt with their life." She sounded suddenly bitter and I felt some of my excitement die.
"Is everything alright with Den?" I asked in a small voice, unhappy with this continuing rift in their relationship.
"Yeah, he's as perfect as ever, at least in his own, and his _f_u_c_k_ing toffee nosed cow of a mother's estimation. Whereas I, apparently, am a bad influence on my own children."
I winced as the car engine made another noise of tortured protest. It would never recover from this excursion, I was sure of it. Den would have to have it shot. "Sounds like your Sunday lunch was as eventful as mine. I'll tell you about mine, if you'll tell me about yours."
She mercifully parked the car and we traded sympathies about humourless, unfeeling, uncaring, unappreciative, overbearing partners. Al heard me out and agreed that indeed Jack should not have forced another run in with Tristan so soon after the last. I didn't mention the hairbrush, not wanting to believe it myself. Jack had never used anything but his hand to chastise my bottom, and that stung more than enough thank you very much. Now thanks to that interfering prat Tristan my chances of being able to sit comfortably for Christmas looked slim. Al told me her grievances.
".... and I mean, kids love those kind of rhymes don't they? How was I to know she'd invited the bloody vicar as well as us for lunch. And I didn't tell Adam to recite the flaming poem at the dinner table. She really upset the poor baby with her carrying on. The vicar wasn't much better, he looked at Adam as if he was the Anti-Christ. I mean he's only four and a half for God's sake, he was just sharing something he thought was fun. It was a silly rhyme about a bogey and that straight laced old bat acted as if he'd pissed in the gravy boat. What got me REALLY mad though, was Dennis taking her side against me."
We had stopped outside a pub called The Talbot. It looked fairly ordinary, if not downright dull. Being early, there was little sign of life. "I didn't know you got off on playing dominoes and darts," I stared at the pubs dowdy exterior in disappointment, "and I thought you said it was called The Snake pit?"
"I don't and it is." Alison dragged me through the door and thrust me towards a flight of stairs, "we're heading for the basement."
I sniffed as we descended the steps, neatly side stepping a pool of vomit that someone had carelessly left lying around, "what's that smell Ally, apart from sick?"
She gave me a slightly withering look, sighing, "you are such a child Danny."
Sodding charming, I thought, and that from miss maturity. We reached the bottom of the stairs and she pushed open the black double doors. An incredible wave of noise rolled out to greet us. The place was heaving. I felt immediately self conscious as dozens of eyes swivelled in our direction. Jeez, these people were not pretty. I'd never seen so much iron mongery dangling from so many different parts of the human anatomy. I was, I confess, a bit scared and pressed closer to my sister, whispering, "it's a bit of a dive isn't it Ally?"
"Actually," Ally gazed through the blue smoky atmosphere with a practised eye, "they've smartened it up since the last time I was here."
Oh God, I gulped as a biker, a huge specimen, slowly detached itself from the throng and lumbered towards us. Panic surged through my veins, we were trespassing on the local Hells Angels hallowed turf. We were dead! I did my noble and manly duty, stepping in front of Alison to protect her.
"Back off Danny."
She shoved me roughly aside, her eyes fixed on the leather clad mountain that was bearing down on us with increased speed.
"Alison? Ally Macintyre? My God, it is you!" The giant whooped, plucked her off her feet and swung her round. She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him. Dennis would not have approved.
They finally broke for air and he set her on her feet again. He held at her arms length and stared at her hard, "it's so good to see you. I thought you were dead!"
Alison gave a squeal of laughter, "not dead darling, merely resting." Then she grabbed me and dragged me forward. "Georgie, I'd like you to meet my baby brother Danny."
I winced and tried not to stumble as a huge paw gave me a friendly slap on the shoulder.
"He's one of your lot."
I wondered what she meant by 'one-of-your-lot.' I had never even ridden pillion an a motor bike, let alone owned one. Then I took a proper look round. "Ally, Ally," I plucked at her sleeve, hissing in her ear, "this is a gay bar."
She looked at me scathingly, "duoh, nothing escapes your razor sharp intellect does it Danny?"
She can be a right bitch my sister.
The giant was looking me up and down with renewed interest. I blushed.
"Cute," he said, "but, I'm with someone now. Come and say hello."
He linked Alison's arm through his with a touching courtesy that was slightly at odds with his appearance, and escorted her across the packed room. I followed in their wake trying not to stare too hard. The pubs and bars I usually frequented were nothing quite like this. This was a cross between The Rocky Horror Show and the bar scene from Star wars where Luke meets Han Solo for the first time. There were some odd looking creatures here, male, female and whatever. How the hell was my straight sister acquainted with it? Dennis definitely wouldn't approve.
Georgie's boyfriend turned out to be a quiet, willowy blonde called Peter who looked as if he would be more at home in a church than this den of iniquity. He obviously adored the big biker, his eyes barely left the man's face. Alison seemed perfectly at home. In fact she was like a queen holding court and thriving on it, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling as she renewed acquaintances from the past. My curiosity grew and grew. No wonder my pronouncement, at the age of sixteen, that I suspected I was gay had not phased her. Actually, I'd been bloody disappointed with her reaction. I'd struggled with the whole thing for over a year (yeah, so I was a late developer-wanna make summat of it?) tortured over my inability to be _s_e_x_ually attracted to girls. Danny, you daft bugger, she had said as I wept and agonised, pouring out my soul to her, get a grip, you're gay, not terminally ill.
A shattering scream in my left lug almost made me loose bladder control. I was shouldered roughly aside as something in pink leather launched itself at Alison and clamped its mouth to hers. Dennis would have died. I was a bit agog meself.
"Darling," the apparition released its suction hold on Ally's tonsils and spoke in a breathy voice, "I knew you'd eventually realise where your true leanings lay."
Alison recovered her breath, rearranged her clothing and grinned, "Libby, you lunatic, it's good to see you, and no, I haven't come out. I was never in to come out. My brother is out thought –Danny, Libby, Libby, Danny."
The pink apparition looked disappointed, "bummer, haven't you got any sisters waiting in the closet?"
Then she smiled and held out her hand, "only kidding. Nice to meet you Danny." She turned back to Ally. "What brings you back here after all this time? Rumours were..."
Georgie interrupted, "trust you to get straight to the point Libby. I was hoping to work up to it a little more subtly and we've already done the heard you were dead bit." He turned to his boyfriend. "Peter, why don't you go and introduce Danny to some of the younger crowd. I'm sure he doesn't want to sit listening to us oldies all night."
"Speak for yourself darling," Libby tossed back her pink and blonde hair, the dozen or so earrings in her left ear tinkling musically, "age is a state of mind."
"Which makes you about six Barbie girl." Georgie smiled at her sweetly.
"Hark at Mr time warp man; Rebel without a clue."
"Nice to see you two getting along better," said Ally.
Peter dragged himself from his lovers side with obvious reluctance. I looked anxiously at Ally.
"Go and have some fun Danny. I know they look a weird crew, but they're okay when you get to know them. Put a block on the Jack wouldn't approve thoughts. I've got my Dennis shields up."
She obviously wanted some space of her own so I cleared off. Peter introduced me to a few of his friends and after a pint or two I began to relax. A wiry, bearded guy with more piercings than a colander, requested the pleasure of my company on the dance floor. Actually what he said was: "I'm dancing- and so are you"
I didn't like to dissuade him of his intentions, besides, it had been ages since I'd had the opportunity to dance. Jack was not one of life's natural dancers, in fact I suspected that Lily might well put in a better performance than him on the dance floor. He would not approve of this place, that was for sure, in fact he'd hate it. This just wasn't his scene. I banished a mental image of a hairbrush contacting milky white buttocks and threw myself enthusiastically into being nineteen and having fun. Play now, pay later had always been my philosophy –hey I'm one of the credit card generation.
Conversationally speaking Simeon, as my dance partner turned out to be called, was a cross between the naked chef Jamie Oliver: (awrite mate, yeah, pucker) and Trevor MacDonald without an autocue(umm, err, are we on air?) However, he could dance, boy could he dance. I gave myself up to the moment. I loved to dance and even if I do say so myself, I was good. My smaller stature was an advantage on the dance floor, shorter people move better, look at Wayne Sleep. It was good to expel some energy.
"Are you alright Al?" I had decided a break was in order, moving back to the table where she and her friends were sitting. She looked suspiciously as if she'd been crying.
"She's fine." Libby and Georgie (slightly impeded by the lover entwined about his person) spoke in unison, moving protectively in towards her.
"Fine Danny," she smiled weakly, "are you having a good time?"
I nodded, I was having a good time. No deep and serious conversation, plenty of loud music, and not a hairbrush in sight. Georgie undraped his boyfriend and sent him off to get a round of drinks in.
Alison nodded after him, "he's sweet Georgie, at ease with himself, entirely the opposite of Michael. I'm glad you found someone else. How long have you been together?"
Libby answered for him, "nearly two years darling and he's been a complete bore the whole time, absolutely no fun at all."
Georgie pulled a face at her, "you're just jealous because your relationships never last longer than a few weeks."
Simeon nudged me.
"What is it?" I reached out to take one of the small white pills he was offering me. Suddenly a huge paw shot past me. Simeon gasped with pain and fright as his wrist was viciously gripped.
"He doesn't," growled Georgie menacingly, " you understand me little boy, he doesn't and while you're in his company neither do you. Am I making myself clear?"
Simeon quickly nodded. He got up and mumbled something which could have been interpreted as: excuse me I feel the need to avail myself of the facilities. Georgie glared after him, a look of real fury on his face, he made as if to get up and follow, but both Peter and Libby pulled him back down.
"It's okay," I hastily tried to diffuse the situation. "I'm not into drugs, I wouldn't have taken them, I just wondered what they were. Besides, judging from the way he dances I'd say it was harmless; probably only E."
"That's besides the point," snapped Georgie, turning blazing eyes on me. "He has no right passing that stuff about. And for your information kid, when it comes to drugs there's no such words as 'only and harmless.' Drugs, whatever they're called, are bad news."
"What about alcohol?" I asked, slightly needled by his tone, "that's a drug and I don't notice you being too righteous to refuse that, and half the people in here must be smoking Ma..."
Peter suddenly metamorphosed into a real person instead of an extension of the biker. He grabbed my hand, "let's dance, I like this song." He hauled me towards the dance floor, I was too surprised to protest. He glared at me. "You got a death wish or something? Don't talk back to Georgie, specially on the subject of drugs, not unless you want an anti drugs message branding onto your backside."
"He doesn't look much like the keeper of the public morals." I was still bristling slightly.
"He isn't," Peter pulled me to one side and hissed, "he's an ex junkie, like..." he bit his lip. "Anyway, he knows from experience that drugs _f_u_c_k_ you up. His first serious boyfriend, Michael, your sister's best friend incidentally, died from a Heroin overdose. So, go easy on him." He smiled faintly, adding in a dry voice, "what is it they say? Hell hath no fury like a junkie converted!"
I warmed to Peter properly for the first time, the little quip of dark humour giving him a personality that had hitherto been hidden under his quiet, slightly intense demeanour. He was about my own age I guessed, maybe a year or two older.
Turned out he was twenty three and he'd met Georgie in very un-auspicious circumstances: unconscious face down in a pool of my own vomit, he admitted cheerfully. Georgie had fished him out of it and taken him under his wing, so to speak. Straightened me out, he grinned, in one sense anyway. I plucked up nerve to ask the question that was occupying the back of my mind. "Was my sister a user?"
Peter gave a shrug, "From what Georgie has said about that time in his life, which isn't much, I would say that the whole group of them were heavily into that scene. You'll have to quiz her, maybe she doesn't want to talk about it? I know Georgie would rather pretend it didn't happen. From what I can glean, she was exceptionally close to Michael. They were brought up in the same children's home, didn't have an easy time and turned to each other, as well as other stuff, for support."
After a couple of dances Peter was obviously itching to return to Georgie's side. I followed him over, sitting quietly, listening with half my mind to their conversation, the rest of it dwelling on this unknown portion of Alison's life. Had my own sister really been an addict? I couldn't believe it. Suddenly the magic mushroom incident when I was fourteen made sense. She had betrayed me to Dennis. I had been devastated, I thought she'd laugh it off, cover for me, but she didn't and Den had expressed his disapproval in a way that left me unwilling to sit down for the best part of a week. I'd been angry with her then, I was angry with her now. Why hadn't she told me? Dennis and Jack too, they obviously knew. I was angry with all of them, especially Jack, hurt and angry that he saw fit to withhold things like this from me, things that I had a right to know. What other things were being kept from me?
Alison glanced at me saying lightly, "you've got a face like an undertaker's dog Danny. Cheer up for God's sake, you and I are in deep pooh-pooh. We may as well chill while we can."
I made a non committal noise.
She reached for my hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "I'll tell you a story, but not here, not now. I want to have fun, while we're still able." She winked, and I felt a bit better, like she'd included me in her life again. Travis was blaring from the loud speakers and she began singing loudly: "'the grass is always greener on the other side, neighbour's gotta new car that you wanna drive..'" We all joined in, "'time is running out you wanna stay alive...'"
I couldn't help wondering how long I was likely to stay alive after Jack got his hands on me. I banished such thoughts and threw myself into having a good time and drinking too much (probably a sub-conscious way of paying Jack back for withholding the wine from me earlier) Simeon made a reappearance and I went off to dance with him. All was going well until a slower smoochier number came up.
"No-Simeon-I'm sorry," I backed off as he tried to kiss me. "I've enjoyed dancing with you, but I'm with someone, I didn't mean to give the impression..." He pulled me harder against his body and I struggled. He was a lot stronger than he looked and I began to panic slightly as he insistently groped me. Pushing him off was an effort. "I said NO..._f_u_c_k_ off Simeon. I mean it-stop it!"
Anger flashed across his face. He snarled some unattractive names at me then lashed out. If I'd drank less my reflexes would have been better, as it was, the punch caught me hard in the face and I flew backwards with blood pouring from a split lip. Georgie stepped in quickly, heaving Simeon off me and shaking him by the scruff of the neck like a rat. I managed to deter the angry biker from turning Simeon inside out. "Partly my fault," I mumbled tearfully, pressing the back of my hand to my lip to stem the flow of blood. "I probably did give the wrong impression, didn't mean to."
"Listen kid," Georgie helped me back to the table. "no means no, in any circumstances and that hyped up little _s_h_i_t_ is just going to have to learn to take disappointment in his stride."
The night had turned sour, my lip throbbed and I felt suddenly unwell. I wanted Jack.
Alison was as slaughtered as I was, certainly in no state to drive us home. Georgie demanded her car keys and Libby went off to make a telephone call while Peter got me some ice from the bar to put against my lip. "You've been blooded," he smiled in that dry way of his, "you're a fully accepted member of the snake pit now."
I tried to smile, but it hurt too much. Libby came back and informed us that she'd contacted Dennis and he was on his way to collect us. "Can't wait to see what manner of man distracted you from my charms darling."
"Give it up Libby, it was never gonna happen," Alison blew her a tipsy kiss.
I leaned against Alison, the conversation floating above my head, or was I floating above my head? She suddenly stiffened. "Jesus," she slurred, "it's the Blues Brothers-on ice."
I managed to persuade my eyes to focus in the direction she was looking. Oh crikey, it hadn't occured to me that Dennis would contact Jack. The two of them were marching across the floor with the air of men about to invade a small country. The look on Jack's face, as he took in the scene around him, managed to impress itself upon my inebriated brain for review later. It didn't help that the music playing as they came in was chop suey by System Of A Down; definitely not for the faint hearted or ballad inclined. He winced as if he was being assaulted with a blunt instrument. I mentally echoed the raucous, yet strangely melodic, singers sentiments: Father into your hands I commend my spirit.
"Nice," Peter gave me a nudge, "which one's yours then?"
The one with a face like the wrath of God," I swallowed and intoned solemnly, "if I should die think only this of me, that there's some corner of a foreign bar that is forever Danny."
Peter nodded appreciatively, "aah, I too used to fantasise about Rupert Brooke."
"Who's this Rupert Brooke then?" Georgie looked askance, "you've never mentioned him before."
"Don't worry sweetheart," Peter kissed his boyfriend's cheek, "he's no competition, he's been dead since 1915."
Georgie looked baffled and we collapsed into giggles. I had a vague impression of introductions and then the cool air of the outside world as we exited the building. Dennis recovered the keys from Georgie, carried my already sleeping, possibly unconscious, sister to their car and then I was alone with a tall dark handsome...iceberg. The outside air wasn't the only thing that was cool.
"I luv you Jack." I tried to reach up to hug his neck, both of them.
"Save it little boy," Jack swatted my bottom, unwrapped my arms, ducked my head into the car and closed the passenger side door with a brisk note.
My bubble burst completely as we headed home and the alcohol I'd consumed stopped romancing my, isn't everything a lark, nerves and starting poking at my, you've drank too much, you idiot, and you're going to be really ill, nerves.
"Ja-ack. I'm gonna be sick!"
"Not in my car Daniel, not if you want to live to be twenty." The voice held no trace of sympathy.
I stated the obvious, as drunks are wont to do, "you're still cross with me aren't you?"
"Shut up Daniel."
"Aaah dooon't feeel too good Jack." I embraced the toilet bowl like a lover, mainly to try and stop it spinning round, then began barphing a symphony into the receptive ear of armitage shanks. Those operatic associates of drunks everywhere, Hughie (soprano) and George(bass tenor) made their appearance: "HUUGGHHIIEEE," my stomach rose majestically into my throat, "geooorrrge," I rammed my head down the u-bend as the contents spewed out through my mouth. They each performed a few more Arias before leaving me whimpering miserably on the bathroom floor. "Oh God," I moaned as Jack patiently wiped my sweating face with a cool cloth, "I'm dying, Jack I'm dying."
"Believe me Daniel, you're far from dead." He made me drink copious amounts of water, then began stripping my clothes off, "we'll discuss, in very close detail, the exact terms of your demise when you've sobered up." He administered a sharp smack to my bare backside which even my alcohol numbed nerves acknowledged as painful. Scooping me up into his arms, he put me to bed where I fell at once in to the sleep slept only by the innocent and the totally paralytic.