Dark Portal 2/Dark Portal 2.adf/TEXT/White Ravens

Text File | 1992-09-02 | 40KB | 748 lines

@ WHITE RAVENS

# Original story by Andrew Campbell and Tony Kelly in 1992
# Edited for Dark Portal II by Andrew Campbell 1994

                                  <>

 I eased a damp cloth to Ben's forehead and cooled him down a little.
 He coughed and croaked, "Daddy?"
 I smiled. "What?"
 "Tell me a story," he said, a look of want on his face. I placed the
cloth into the bowl of water beside me and crouched down.
 My son watched me through deep brown eyes. I could tell he wanted a
story right now more than anything else in the world.
 "Would you like a true story?" I whispered to him. I was quite sure I
could dig up something interesting from my colourful past.
 Ben nodded briskly. "Tell me about Mummy."
 "Mummy, huh?" I smiled, thinking of my wife. She wasn't due home
until half past ten tonight. I had three hours to wait yet.
 Ben was showing signs of coming down with a serious illness and I
knew she would be very concerned but I didn't want to worry her by
phoning. She would be enjoying herself at the party (at least I hoped
she would be) and deserved a break. Our eldest son, Danny, was over at
his girlfriend's - a cute, if a little shy girl called Katie Helens -
doing God knows what. Neither of us minded though; he was old enough
to take responsibility for his actions.
 Ben's lips curved into a smile. "When did you meet Mummy?"
 I frowned, thinking. Ben waited patiently.
 "It's a strange tale." I said, rubbing my chin. "We met twice. Then
once again after that. Mum lived in London you know."
 "Wow," Ben said. "Tell me Daddy."
 "It's not really a kid's story." I said.
 "I'm old enough. Come on Dad, please." The boy's eyes twinkled. I
noticed he called me 'Dad' instead of 'Daddy' that time.
 "Alright." I whispered and took a deep breath. "I'd just come out of
Paddington Station when the first thing happened." Ben cuddled down
and listened with great interest. "It was ten minutes past eleven,
Tuesday night. The noise of the traffic along Edgware Road was
terrible and I thought by taking a different route I might save myself
the agony of a bad headache..."

                                  <>

 ...I chose a dark alleyway that looked to head off in the direction I
was wanting to travel. So I buttoned up my raincoat and I walked
boldly into the shadows. Never in all my twenty four years had I felt
as tired as I did that evening.
 I'd covered over a thousand miles in one day and signed a contract
worth five hundred times more than that distance in pounds. I was
prone to headaches and after such a big day I could feel one throbbing
closer.
 The darkness of the alleyway enhanced the hostility of the already
chilling winter night. Tiny freckles of snow were drifting down from
the orange tinted clouds high above me.
 My footsteps echoed something alarming ; huge walls of some old,
towering buildings rose either side of me, blotting me out from the
bright world of the chaotic London streets.
 I felt like nothing in this place.
# Nobody.
 I was two thirds from the far end when someone jumped me.
 A hand slammed across my lips, bursting them. Another grabbed at the
briefcase I was holding and attempted to seize it from me. Despite the
pain, I put up a decent struggle, even though I knew I was out-
numbered.
 There was at least four people holding me and another two fighting
for my belongings. They punched me hard then let me sink to my knees
and spit blood but they still held me tightly, both arms behind my
back.
 I faintly heard a breath of laughter. My suitcase flopped open and
piles and piles of paperwork spilled out onto the dirty, wet ground.
 Someone lifted up my head. I was given the a chance to see one of my
ambushers properly - a big, black man wearing a white head-band around
his sweat-glistening forehead. He was chewing gum and grinning
profoundly.
 He threw his fist in my face with tremendous force. I screamed and
collapsed, hoping and praying that that was all the pain I was going
to have to endure. I could taste blood, hot sticky and salty.
 Despite my feeble condition, I was dragged up for another punch.
 "Hey you stinking motherfuckers!" Someone shouted.
 It was the first time someone had spoken for such a long time the
words sounded almost divine.
 The man who had crunched his fist into my face stared wonderously
into the darkness. I was panting and spitting and crying : my face
felt like raw meat.
 "Get outa here you fuckin' slut!" One of the men yelled.
 "Leave the poor sod alone!" was the reply. I realised someone was
trying to stand up for me, perhaps going to attempt a rescue. I must
admit, the knowledge that this person was female didn't raise my hopes
very high.
 "Why don't you come over here and help him, bitch?"
 "Alright. If I have to."
 Footsteps: whoever she was, she was coming this way. I felt the hands
gripping me slacken. With weary, bleeding eyes I watched - through a
dark jungle of legs - a woman pace calmly closer to us all.
 "Well well well," one of the men whistled. "What the fuck have we got
here, bro's?"
 Whispers fluttered through the gang.
 "You want to play with us lady?" the man who'd whacked me asked the
stranger. He was obviously the leading figure.
 The woman - I could see her a little more clearly now - was dressed
in a long black skirt and a dirty looking, purplish cardigan. I took
one look at her face, realised how young she was, then started to
secretly pray that she didn't get herself hurt.
 She wasn't big, didn't look strong and was dressed like some kind of
peace-loving hippie. Why she had bravely attempted to take on my
captors I quite literally had no idea.
 "Let the young man go." She demanded.
 Several members of the gang dispatched and circled the woman, eyeing
her up from all angles. They cunningly blocked out her every escape
route.
 "What are you gonna do now sweetheart?" the leader teased.
 The woman's eyes slid from man to man. She simply stood there, hands
by her sides, mouth closed.
 "This is your last chance you fuckheads." she snapped suddenly. "Let
him go or I'll beat the shit out of you all."
 The group exchanged glances. Some folded their arms. The leader,
obviously highly amused, spat and chewed louder than ever. One thing
was for sure - these men would eat that young lady alive if she didn't
think quickly and I for one was not at all looking forward to watching
her downfall.
 "Maybe you'd like to save us some effort," the leader said softly,
"By taking off your clothes and spreading your legs wide. We're gonna
fuck you so hard you'll be puking sperm for weeks, bitch."
 "Come on then, come for it." the woman hissed.
 "You bet we will-"
 "All at once, lets have a fuckin' orgy-"
 "You asked for it."
 "I know I did."
 "GET THE BITCH!" the leader yelled.
 "RUUUUUN!" I screamed, spittles of blood escaping my mouth. "RUUUUN!"
 The woman spun and kicked, slapping four men's faces in turn with the
point of her shoe. At once, the two remaining thugs flew at her, one
of them screaming, "BIIIITCH!"
 She whacked the largest of the two men in the stomach then kicked out
from the rear, knocking back a third man who had risen to his feet
after being thrown down the first time.
 The leader came in ferociously, hooked his arms around the woman's
waist and released a roar of laughter. She reached back and yanked at
his hair, transforming his guffaws into screams. She then side-stepped
and threw him over her shoulder.
 Once down, the man reached for her ankles. The woman reacted
instantly by skipping out of range, then came back and stamped on his
face.
 One last man made an attack.
 The woman handled him perfectly, breaking his nose with a swift punch
and avoiding his dirty hands with terrific speed. When he fell to his
knees, moaning in agony, she spun a last kick and knocked him out.
 The remaining man who was holding me released his grip and darted
away as fast as he could.

                                  <>

 At last the woman faced me. Her jaws were slightly open and her teeth
were clenched. She glanced at my briefcase without a word, then kicked
it towards me. I jumped back a little. The woman chuckled to herself.
I watched her as she walked casually away.
 "Hey! Lady! Wait!" I yelled.
 The echoing footsteps halted. I couldn't see far enough down the
alley to see if the woman had stopped or whether she had just gone
out of audible range.
 I staggered up onto my feet feeling winded and brittle. My knees were
sore, my trousers were torn and smeared with dirt and my face was
sizzling like a barbecue.
 "Lady! Please wait! Hey!" I set off in her direction. She emerged
from the shadows, hands clasped together in her lap. I skidded to a
halt, breathless, and tried to keep calm.
 "I-I-I just want to thank you." I stuttered.
 The woman (no, she was a girl I realised, not a woman, she was so
young) said, "It's quite alright." She half-turned to leave, then
looked back at me. "Why don't you run on home before those nasty men
wake up?"
 I stared at her face. She was amazingly pretty, to me anyway. She
had long brown hair, tailed at the rear, and crystal blue eyes. I
found her so wonderful to look at, I momentarily lost myself in her
beauty.
 "Hello?" She waved a hand in front of my face. I was bleeding so
badly I was pretty sure the instant blushing sensation I felt caused
no change in my appearance.
 I looked at my hands. "Listen, thanks. I don't know what to say."
 "Say goodbye." She said and looked around. "I'm going now."
 "But where... what..." I was desperate not to let her go. "Can't
we... er... talk for a moment, I-I'd like to thank you properly, I
mean what you did back there was... was... awesome, I can't believe
it... I..."
 She turned to face me again, this time she looked annoyed. "You men
are all the same." She said, "I'm a girl, so what?"
 Again, I didn't know what to say. She waited, but I couldn't fill in
the pause.
 "Look mister," she said eventually. "Go get your case, go home, get a
wash and carry on with your rosey little life. Christ I don't know why
I bother sometimes."
 She turned and walked quickly away.
 Realising the thugs were moaning and ready to come alive again, I ran
to my demolished briefcase and began to shakily tuck in my papers.
 It was useless - everything was soiled. I cursed and fastened down
the empty case, then dragged it up off the ground, leaving my work
littered across the alley.
 I ran away as fast as I could. When I emerged at the other end - the
corner of a busy main road - I searched frantically for that mystery
woman.
 She was no where to be seen. I spent a long time running up and
down the streets hoping to catch a glimpse, but she had well and
trully gone.
 When I finally gave up, I wandered aimlessly to the nearest tube
station and merged with the late night crowd.
 I felt boring and typical now I was no longer in danger. The whole
experience had changed me, made me realise my life as a pencil-pusher
was going nowhere... lacking in excitement and adventure.
 It was well after one o'clock when I checked in to my Hotel. That
night, I didn't sleep much. I kept thinking deeply, changing my
opinions on life from one extreme to the other like a light switch
being flicked by a child.

                                  <>

# "You did what?"
 I loosened my tie and swallowed. "I got attacked. You know."
 "All I know," John Summers was red-faced. "is that Dan Bailey is
going to bite off the end of my DICK for this!"
 Summers was a middle aged man, grey as cement and as sharp tongued as
a bad TV interviewer. He was the assistant director of "Abacus Design"
- the company I was unfortunate enough to work for.
 We were sat in an office on the deserted top floor of "Abacus" head
-quarters. Apparently the useless looking photocopies I had been
ordered to bring down to HQ were of incredible importance. They were
"illegal copies of Japanese Art prints", an "insight into the future"
according to Summers. I'd lost them, and from the looks of it, going
to pay dearly.
 "It'll take two weeks." Summers said impatiently, "two whole weeks to
get our hands on those prints again. By that time Norman 'I own Naked
Image Design' Keaton will be headlong into the White Raven project,
leaving me and you and all our Abacus friends, including Dan Bailey,
sucking up shit from people like him for the rest of our lives."
 I sighed. "Look at my face Mr Summers. I got mugged. I'm sorry."
 "Yeah," Summers nodded, "I bet you're sorry. Bailey is going to
shuttle your balls back to the European branch for sure. And he won't
be paying for your return."
 "They weren't that important were they?" I asked in a soft voice.
 "Mr Hunter they were the key to success." Summers smiled. He then
slammed his fist down on his desk, hard. "And now they're floating
away down some fucking drain somewhere!"
 I jolted in my seat. The man had one hell of a temper.
 If only I hadn't shown so much interest in that girl... I might have
managed to salvage some of those copies... but what did the company
expect if they didn't tell me what I was carrying? I didn't know I was
worth a fortune! And if they were illegal... lets just say I didn't
like that.
 "Sir, with all respect-" I began, but was cut off.
 "No, Hunter. Just shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear it." Summers
picked up the phone on his desk. "I'm phoning Bailey up right now. And
if he's mad, you'd better get thinking about a new career. The guy
doesn't like people licking drips of piss from his cock. Comprende?"
 I didn't "comprende" one bit.
 I'd done this job for five years, working my way up from an assistant
to a proper graphic artist. All those nights working overtime just to
complete the diagrams for a new technology publication... all those
evenings alone in the office...
 I crossed my fingers and hoped for forgiveness.
 "Mr Bailey?" Summers glanced at me from time to time as he spoke.
 "This is Summers. Listen, we lost the copies... I know sir... yes
sir I know... yes... Hunter lost them. Apparently he got mugged in an
alleyway and some men ran off with the papers... I know... I don't
know... yes sir.... Mike Hunter.... yes he's from Stone Bridge, two
day trip and... yes sir, the town where everything paranormal seems to
go on... I'm sure sir... alright sir, if you think that's neccessary.
I will sir, I'll be over in a while... yes, goodbye sir."
 I sat forward. "Well? What did he say?"
 "Oh dear." Summers brushed back his silver hair and sat back in his
chair. He folded his arms and smiled at me in a way I would remember
for the rest of my life. "You're fired." He said. "Bailey just gave
you the sack. You've to be out of the hotel by seven and you can come
into work on Monday."
 "I can come back?" I raise my eyebrows.
 "To collect your things, dickhead." Summers snapped.
 My face flushed. "This isn't entirely fair, sir."
 "I'm under orders from Bailey, Hunter."
 "Can't I just explain to Mr Ba-"
 "No." Summers shook his head. "Now I suggest you make like a Spanish
whore and get cheap fuck out of here."

                                 <>

 I spent the entire afternoon laid on the bed in my hotel room.
 By seven o'clock, I was ready to depart. Summers had ordered me a
taxi. Typical. I checked out of the hotel in good time to meet it.
 I was geared up with my suitcase and briefcase (which I had filled up
with provisions, now) and was ready to leave, despite my experience
with the wonderful girl.
 I wanted to start a new life, perhaps forget about the design
business and go for something more adventurous: I really didn't know.
 A taxi pulled up at the entrance to the hotel and the window unwound.
A bald man peered out and on his second glance saw me stood alone,
belongings in either hand.
 "Paddington?"
 I smiled unenthusiastically. "Yeah."
 Then, through some coincidence I have never been able to understand,
as I turned the handle of the taxi's passenger door I had a last look
around the street... and caught a glimpse of a man I thought I
recognised.
 He was a black man wearing a white head band. He looked to have a cut
on the side of his head.
 I waited a moment, wondering:
# Should I grab the door handle and forget I ever saw the man? Or
#maybe follow him and take a chance?
# What for? Why should I?
 I swung the taxi door open and threw my cases inside.
 The driver poked his head out of the window and shouted, "Hurry up!"
 "Hang on." I said.
 The driver rolled his eyes and ducked back inside.
 I watched as three more men joined up with the one I had kept an eye
on. They hung around in a group, watching people pass them. I could
recognise more than one now - I could fit several faces together under
the lights of the hotel.
 Occasional glances passed my direction and I felt a little scared but
for some reason - probably the fact that it had been very dark indeed
down that alleyway - none of the gang identified me.
 I received a last warning from the driver that he was going to start
charging me from now on.
 Without thinking I dragged my bags back out of the vehicle, put my
face to the window and said, "Fuck yourself shit for brains."
 "You son of a fuckin' BITCH! Wastin' my fuckin' time! FUCK YOU!" he
boomed and screeched away from the curb, drowning me in blue smoke.
 I focused on the four men again, this time with full concentration.
 They began to move.
 I followed, leaving my cases behind.

                                  <>

 I was led many streets away from the hotel, into places I'd never
been before... and never really wanted to go.
 The lights grew dimmer and the buildings became more and more dirty
and derelict. Street corners filled up with hookers and roughians.
 I realised I was dressed in the same suit I had chosen to wear to
John Summer's office. My tie had vanished long since, but I still
looked like a business man. My rain coat alone was a huge and
expensive item.
 The gang of four met up with two other black men - one of which I
hadn't ever seen before - and became a group of six. There was a
little tension and several men started up violent fights during which
I tried to submerge in the shadows.
 For what seemed like hours, I persistently followed them all.

                                  <>

 An old building sight set the scene for a sudden amount of frantic
activity. From my hiding position a few yards away, I could make out
only a bit of what was going on.
 There were a few shouts and a good deal of fighting - some of the men
were even grounded, faces bloodied - but few minutes later, all action
ceased and the night was calm again.
 I crept a little closer, staying behind brick walls and ruined wooden
fences, lurking in the shadows and treading only on light ground.
 My eyes widened when I caught sight of a familiar female down amongst
the men. She was captured.
 I watched with growing fear as the men slammed her against the wall
of a neglected building and started to throw punches to her face, one
after the other.
 I began to shuffle - on my knees - closer and closer to their
position. The talking I had once been unable to decypher suddenly
became frighteningly loud and near:
 "I'll teach you to fuck with us bitch!" I heard. "You're gonna feel
pain beyond anythin' anyone has ever experienced!"
 Callous, evil laughter rang through the night and burned my soul. The
man with the head-band was still obviously the leader - he threw a
punch to the girl, instantly dragging her head up ready for another
blow.
 "Now Miss Karate-Champion," the man's face pressed up to hers. "I
want you to get out of this mess. Come on, just like you did last
time, throw us some kicks huh? Come on you fuckin' bitch! come on!"
 The girl didn't respond, much to the anger of the leader. He spat
into her face. I clenched my fists hard and whispered, "Bastard." with
a growing deathwish.
 "I'll show you pain you little whore." The man hissed at her as I
shuffled even closer, keeping low and silent.
 I realised this was my chance to show my true worth. I had to be sly
and cunning. Without the experience of Martial Arts I was reduced to
using other skills - planning: using what few items there was around
me as weapons.
 I picked up a large brick from the ground, watching the leader at the
same time. My breathing had increased and I could feel a thick pulse
pumping away in my neck.
 "Billy, hold her still." The leader commanded. One of his colleagues
grabbed the girl from behind and held her tightly, masking her mouth
to prevent her from screaming. The leader flicked open a blade of some
kind. My heart missed a beat.
 The girl's blouse was sliced open and peeled back, much to the
excitement of the laughing, eager gang. They looked at her bare skin
with demonic, perverted eyes.
 When the leader moved in and squeezed the girls breasts with both
hands, I made a consious decision I was going to kill him.
 I took off my coat, folded it over, and placed the brick I had found
inside it. I then held it upside down and swung it gently left and
right. It moved through the air slowly, like a heavy pendulum.
 "Yes," I told myself quite calmly. "You're going to waste the whole
lot of them. Just like that."

                                  <>

 "PO-LEEEECE!" I screamed at the top of my voice. "YOU ARE SURROUNDED!
LET THE GIRL GO OR WE'LL BLOW YOU AWAY!"
 Silence.
 Then, laughter. I knew such a cinematic approach would undoubtedly
fail but that was merely the first of my plans. I kept telling myself
"strength is in the mind, strength is in the MIND" as I rose up from
my hiding place and started for the gang.
 "Well would you look at this?" the Leader commented, still holding
the girl's breasts tightly. The girl had closed her eyes and was
whispering something to herself. I felt so guilty being able to see
what I could of her.
 I also felt sick with rage.
 "Didn't get enough last night, huh fuckface?" the leader said,
recognising me at long last. Most of the gang became restless, several
even offered to beat my head in quickly and efficiently. The leader
told them: "No. Not yet. I know what this wimp wants. He's here to try
and rescue the slut. What a brave boy he is, right lads?"
 The gang tittered in agreement.
 "I must admit you caught me offhand last night," I said as steadily
as my voice would allow. "But now I'm giving you a warning: leave the
lady alone or suffer the consequences."
 The girl opened her eyes, narrowly at first, then wider when she
realised who I was. I winked at her, even though - to be honest - I
had no idea how I was going to defeat this gang of roughians. Behind
my back I was clutching my coat, inside which the brick was hiding.
 "If the fucker moves," the leader told his gang. "Kick the fuck out
of him."
 He then resumed squeezing the girl's breasts. For a moment I was too
scared to do anything about it: four members of the gang were watching
me for signs of movement. But then my rage exploded: the leader
crouched down and began to lick at the girl's skin.
 "YOU MOOOOTHERFUUUCKER!!" I shrieked and ran forward, ready to throw
my crude but deadly weapon at any member of the gang who came near me.
 Of course, they ALL came for me, all at once, though this turned out
to be a good thing rather than a bad one.
 With a tremendous yell, I swung my coat - and the gigantic brick -
around my body in one soaring arc. Immediately there were two choking
screams, followed by lifeless thumps. I had succeeded in either
killing - or at least knocking out - two members of this supposedly
fearsome gang.
 Two more men came for me and I gave them similar treatment. I swung
the coat and the brick through the air, quick enough not to give even
the fastest thug an opportunity to attack me.
 After much dizzy spinning, I finally hit another man, this time my
blow wasn't hard enough to cause instant immobility: instead the
victim staggered away, holding his eerily unbleeding skull in both
hands.
 "Maybe that'll knock some sense into you!" I shrieked, still circling
the weapon through the air. I was losing energy fast but was too
scared to stop moving now. I felt like the blade of a helicopter: if I
stopped I'd fall out of action and be destroyed.
 At last the remaining attacker fled, much to the anger of the leader.
Moments later there was just one man, alone with the girl.
 I stopped spinning and staggered around for a moment, regaining my
orientation. I was glad to see the leader's filthy paws had at last
removed themselves from the girl's body.
 I was still intent on killing the fucker, though.
 "Well Mr Spinning Top," he cackled. "I must say your methods are
quite ingenius. I haven't the time or the patience to fight you, so
I'm going to leave you and this stinking slutbag together."
 "Cowardly bastard!" I yelled, thirsty now to bash the son of a
bitches brains in. Whether he was scared of me or not, I knew he
wasn't the type of man to fight alone. His gang had fled him and now
he was nothing; just a leader in the eyes of those who saw him as
such. It heart I realised, he was but a coward.
 He wanted to say more but I lost patience and ran for him, swinging
my coat anxiously. He bolted for it as I had expected but I didn't
waste my time chasing him.
 The bastard just wasn't worth the effort.

                                  <>

 Breathing in short wheezy gasps, I ran to the girl. She was holding
her torn blouse tightly over her body.
 Her face was almost as badly damaged as mine, her eyes were bruised
and blackened, her lips were bleeding and her cheeks were a brownish-
-purple. I was afraid to touch her. Instead I unfolded my coat,
letting the brick thud onto the ground, and wrapped it carefully
around the girl's shoulders.
 "They ought to be sentenced..." I whispered, mostly to myself. "They
ought to be fucking hung for what they've done to you..."
 The girl watched me, not smiling, speaking or crying.
 I had a choice: I could act nice and friendly and return to my own
loving, caring level. Or I could risk the ultimate tactic and bring
myself to a new height, risk everything for the sake of adventure.
 Painfully, I took the second option.
 The girl watched me, wiping her mouth, as I walked slowly away, heart
thumping.
 "Hey," she shouted. "Hey mister."
 I stopped, smiled to myself, and turned around. She slowly rose to
her feet and took two steps forwards.
 "Thanks." She whispered and wiped her bleeding mouth again.
 "Why don't you run on home girl?" I said. "Before those nasty men
wake up."
 She realised what I was doing and looked down at her feet.
 I took the opportunity to say, "What's wrong with you? I'm a little
business man, so what? You women are all the same. I don't know why I
bothered."
 I turned around, grinned and began to pace away.
 Footsteps crunched behind me. I felt a hand grab my shoulder. Again I
came to a halt and swung. A battered girl's face beamed into mine,
searching for signs of humour. She squinted when she saw my lips
curve up at the sides.
 "You bastard." She whispered. "You little brave bastard."
 "What's your name?"
 "Tracey." She told me. I had expected a more heroine-like name.
 "Nice to meet you." I said, "My name's Mike. Now why couldn't we have
spoken like this last night? You thought I was like all the other guys
dressed in suits. Just another clone. Didn't you?"
 Tracey looked away from me and shrugged. "I'm sorry."
 "Me too." I said.
 She rubbed her forehead gently and I watched her bottom lip tremble
like a nervous red worm. She controled herself and looked at me again,
keeping the eye contact for just three seconds.
 "I don't know... what to say..." She said.
 "Say goodbye." I said. "I'm going now."
 She didn't answer me.
 I began to head back towards the city.
 I had the feeling she wouldn't follow me this time: she had been
rescued and that was that. In the world she lived in, heros and
heroines didn't always get together and situations like the one I had
just survived were not always looked upon as brave or couragous, or at
least certainly not to such a great extent.
 I figured she would probably think about me for the next few days and
perhaps do a little research, just as I done with her. But being free
like she was, her investigations might prove more successful, maybe
she would even manage to track me down...
 It was a nice but distant dream.
 I heard no footsteps behind me as I left the wasteland.

                                  <>

 "...and then I went home."
 Ben looked at me puzzled. "You left Mum behind?"
 "I sure did squirt." I said, smiling. "And I thought I'd never see
her again. Never ever."
 "But you must have," Ben insisted, "Or else I wouldn't be here!"
 I laughed. "I guess not."
 "Well?" Ben said and sat up. His face looked more colourful and his
appearance was altogether more healthy. I wondered if he was actually
getting better through excitement of listening to my story.
 "Well what?" I grinned and touched his nose playfully.
 "Tell me the next bit!" He was rocking the bed, staring at me. "I
want to know how you found Mum again! Please dad? Pleaaase!"
 I blew out my cheeks and thought yet again. "Alright. Let me see, it
was a year later-"
 "A YEAR?" Ben gasped. "That's AGES!"
 "I know." I said, "Now keep your gob shut squirt, I have to think."
 Ben didn't make a sound. He watched me again. Proud of me, I thought
and felt happy about that.
 "I went on a trip to London to visit St.Pauls Cathedral." I said,
then explained to Ben what that building was before going any further.
He listened with glowing interest. "It was winter I think. I know I'd
just started working at a new firm which wanted me to take photographs
of St.Pauls for a magazine article. It was just a day trip... I don't
know how it happened but I bumped into someone I hadn't seen in a
while. Someone I never thought I'd see again..."

                                  <>

 She was dressed in a scruffy, white tee-shirt and a long grey skirt.
 Her hair was filthy, clotted together in parts and entwined across
her face. I gave her a single glance, then looked away. Our eyes
met briefly but I thought nothing of the contact. To me she was just
one of the many thousands of homeless people wandering the streets.
 It was a million to one chance that I happened to actually pass her
that day. If I hadn't, maybe I never would have married her.
 There was something about the coat she was wearing... it was the only
thing that convinced me into giving her a second glance.
 She had passed me and was walking briskly into the crowd, away
towards Covent Gardens. I noticed copperish stains on the back of her
raincoat.
# Something deep down twigged.
 My heart hammered  I hadn't felt like this since I had first laid
eyes on her. Now, the feeling was back: I felt like an adventurer
again.
 She stole me from my work. Hell, I focused my entire life on
following her, that's how powerful my feelings were.
 Even after all this time.

                                  <>

 I kept a close trail for a while, but then grew impatient: I had to
speak to her, I just had to. It was such a heart-stopping feeling to
see someone I had shared something special with after so long.
 We'd met twice before, our brief contact hadn't amounted to more than
ten minutes but I knew she was worth approaching.
 I ran to catch up and tapped her on the shoulder. In the middle of
the crowded street, she turned around, fists held high, ready to
defend herself. I rose my hands up and grinned.
 "Tracey it's me!" I said joyously.
 She stared at me, those magical blue eyes.... entrancing. It took
her a while to decide what to do.
 "What do you want?" She said eventually.
 I dropped my grin a little. "Tracey? It's me, Mike. Remember?"
 She shook her head slowly... then widened her eyes to saucers.
 I laughed and looked around. "Jesus, we met in the daylight!"
 "Mike..." Tracey took a step back and looked down at herself. "Oh
God." Her eyes sparkled with what I thought were tears, then she
turned and ran off down the street, pushing her way through crowds of
people.
 I ran after her, determined to find out what the hell she was so
afraid of me for. I meant her no harm, why should she run? I had hoped
for a hug, maybe even a kiss.
 She was extremely fit. I was exhaused by the time she had sprinted to
the end of the road.
 All of a sudden, without any warning, she vanished down a back-
street. I focused on the place until I reached it.
 She was clattering away down a dirty old mill road, splashing in
black oily puddles, her coat - my coat - lashing out behind her.
 To my surprise the alleyway took a turn sharply to the left, then
abruptly ended in a cul de sac. All around, huge brick walls prevented
the girl's escape. She panicked, trying to place a foot into loose
brickwork, but couldn't find a safe route. Realising her defeat, she
swung around and faced me as I caught up.
 "Tracey..." I panted, "I want to talk... "
 "Leave me alone!" She yelled. "Just leave me alone!"
 "What have I done?" I asked, nearing her.
 She backed away, looked left, then right, then into my eyes. Quickly,
her skin reddening, she turned away and said, "Please don't look at
me."
 "Why?" I said softly.
 She faced the wall, pressed her forehead to it and closed her eyes
tightly. "I'm going away." She said.
 I stared at her. "You are? That's great! Where to?"
 She laughed - it sounded dull and humourless. My mind filled with
worry and concern.
 "It's not a holiday." She told me. I looked around the alleyway. It
wasn't dissimilar to the one where I had been rescued by Tracey almost
a year ago. I walked upto her and placed my hand on her shoulder. She
shook me away, burning a hole in my heart.
 "Why the fuck did you have to show up?" She cried. "Why did you have
to come? You shouldn't have followed me. I'll call the police or
somethin' if you don't fuckin' go away."
 "Bullshit." I said, "you know I would never hurt you. You're in
trouble. Now let me in on it or I'll follow you for the rest of your
life. You hear me?"
 She turned slightly and gave me a weak smile, "You'd follow me all
day?"
 "I'd follow you all your LIFE."
 "You're utterly stupid. Get the fuck out of here."
 "No." I insisted, "What the hell's happened to you?"
 She turned around. "I've hired someone."
 "You've what?" I said grinning, pleased to see her pretty face after
so long. She was still the most beautiful girl I had ever seen, if
looking a little on the tired side.
 She said emotionlessly: "I've hired someone to kill me."
 "Fuck that." I snapped and moved forward. "You're going to un-hire
that fucker and come with me."
 She squinted. "I don't need your help."
 "I'm not offering you my help."
 "What?" she said impatiently, "I haven't got time for all this shit-"
 "Tracey, if you don't call off this crazy idea of yours, I'll come
and rescue you like I did last time."
 She folded her arms, "Oh yeah? Like a spinning top?"
 "I planned that attack perfectly." I told her.
 "Bullshit!" She shouted. "You just wanted to prove your worth! It was
pure luck those fuckers ran off! Pure luck!"
 I looked at the coat. "I kindly donated you some of my wardrobe, so
what the hell are you complaining about?"
 Tracy glanced at her raincoat as though she had only just noticed she
was wearing it. She looked up at me with a new expression, one that
wasn't so hostile.
 "I've worn this since the day you left me standing there." She said
quietly. "You left a pen in the pocket too, I used it to sign for dole
money and stuff... and I told all my friends about you when they asked
where I got the expensive coat..." she looked down at herself again
and examined her nails. "I slept in this coat during winter. On the
streets, you know. Every night for the last year I thought of saving
up a little bit of cash to return it to you. Your address was in the
coat pocket... look..."
 She took out a scribbled piece of paper that I had completely
forgotten about altogether: an address to label my suitcase with. I'd
written it on the train last year. The fact that Tracey had actually
known my address for so long and not done a thing about it deeply
saddened me.
 "Jesus Christ," I took the note from her. "Why didn't you look my
number up... or hitch-hike to my place? I don't believe it."
 She shrugged. "I'm a scruff. How would that insult your image if I
walked down your drive in these rags?" she flapped her arms. I looked
at her for a long time. She frowned at me, then opened her mouth.
"Oh," she whimpered. "You want your coat back? Is that it? Here. Have
it."
 I stopped her from taking off the coat. "Tracey! Shut the fuck up
will you! Keep the coat, keep the pen and forget about my image. I got
fired last year. I'm just a poor artist now, living off scraps of
money. Now please, I beg you, come with me. We could-"
 "No." She said. "I'm not accepting charity."
 "Accept some love then." I said.
 She pulled a face. "What did you say?"
 "I'm in love with you." I told her, only just realising at that very
moment my words were indeed true.
 "Mike!" she hissed. "You're embarrassing me! Shut the fuck up!"
 I swung around and shouted, "I'M IN LOVE WITH TRACEY!" down into the
street. Passers by glanced at us both, jaws dropped. I laughed as
Tracey grabbed hold of me and pulled me out of sight.
 "You crazy bastard!" She shouted, "You fuckin' bastard!"
 "It's true," I kept chanting. "It's utterly true."
 She placed her hand across my mouth. I took it and kissed it. She
snatched it away and put her back to me. "Shit." she whispered and I
heard. I was about to say something else when she announced that she
wanted a few moments to think. I waited patiently, ready to sprint
after her if she decided to run again.
 After a few minutes, she turned around.
 "You're very sweet," she said. "And I like you very much. But I'd
drag you down. I'm scruffy, smelly, I eat like a horse and I've no
manners at all. I'm skint, my tits are small, my face is a mess and
I've absolutely no talent in anything artistic... or in anything else
for that matter."
 "Yeah?" I said after she'd finished. "So what?"
 She laughed dryly. "I'm useless. Fucking useless."
 I walked in front of her and planted my hands on her shoulders. She
looked up at me desperately, realising at long last that I wasn't ever
going to leave London without her.
 "Look are you sure?" She said. "You're not kidding?"
 I shook my head confidently. "I love you. I always have."
 At last, she submitted and held me tightly. She was shuddering
violently, either with cold or sheer relief.  "Bastard." she
whispered. "I hate your fucking guts. I really do."

                                  <>

 "...and then I took her home, cleaned her up and convinced her - I
think it took seven months - that I really did love her and that she
wasn't useless and that I would treat her with respect. A couple of
years later I proposed to her and she said yes within half a second.
How's that for a change of mind, huh kid?"
 I looked at Ben. He was asleep.
 "Shit," I whispered when I realised I must have been talking to the
wall for a long time. I looked at my watch and figured that Tracey
would be due home any moment. I carried on talking just for the sake
of concluding the story to myself.
 "Yeah, I'm in love." I said. "Head over heels. I guess I'm pretty
lucky to have found such a wonderful lady."
 "I guess you must." Tracey said softly from behind me. I swung
around and saw her stood against the open doorway to the bedroom, a
pair of shoes in one hand.
 "Hi." I said. "Did you enjoy the party?"
 "Shit. I hated it. You were on my mind all the time. Kinda spoilt
the fun."
 "Really?" I grinned. "You look real pretty, you know."
 "Yeah, sure." she chuckled. "Is Danny home yet?"
 "No, not yet. I guess Katie Helens must be really something."
 "Hmmm. Mike?"
 I folded my arms and admired her. "What?"
 She gave me a magical smile. "I'm lucky too."