Dark Harbour: The Tale of the Soul Searcher (8 page)

Victory in this frame was anybody’s and the four of them had their total concentration on the table.

With all the yellows and the reds potted, Michael had the first shot on the crucial black. He lined himself up at the table with delicate precision, still unsure if he should attempt the difficult angle or play a safety.

‘You can do it, Michael,’ Danny said, anticipating the face-rubbing that Larry would give them if they messed this one up.

After a very long pause, Michael gently tapped the white towards the black. The black slowly rolled towards the pocket, bounced off the edge and back against the other, teetering over the hole. Michael stamped his foot on the ground but the ball wasn’t going to fall.

Larry started chuckling to himself. ‘Lo-sers! Lo-sers!’ he chanted like a schoolboy as he walked over to the pool table.

‘Miss this and you really are a twat,’ Eddie said to him. It was probably his idea of encouragement.

Instead of playing the simple tap in, Larry blasted the white at the black and smashed it in. The white was then in serious danger of finding its way into a pocket with all the bouncing around it was doing, but that didn’t happen. That sort of misfortune didn’t happen with cocky gits like Larry, whose pool cue now turned into an electric guitar as he performed his victory celebration.

‘Bad luck, chaps,’ he said as patronisingly as possible.

‘Well played,’ Michael gracefully said.

‘We thought we should let you win, you being the star player and everything,’ Danny said.

‘Don’t give me that. You were trying so hard. I could see it,’ Larry replied.

He was right, but Danny didn’t want him to know it. ‘So that was nice of Sam to get us all a drink earlier.’

‘Oh yeah, he’s a top bloke,’ Larry replied.

‘Didn’t realise you were so friendly with him.’

‘You’ve got to get in with them, haven’t you? He’ll own one half of this damn town one day. Never know when you might need your connections.’

‘Yeah, maybe he’ll get you a job in his dad’s factory when you finish college,’ Eddie muttered.

Larry threw him an unimpressed look. ‘Nah, one day I’ll be living the highlife with him, hanging out on his yacht, women on our arms.’

‘And you reckon I talk crap,’ Michael said.

Larry looked towards Samuel who now sat across from them with his fellow big shots. ‘You just see. One day I’ll be going round everywhere with a permanent smile on my face just like him.’

‘Yeah, right,’ said Michael.

Eddie stood up, his attention clearly strained by now. ‘You guys are obsessed with him. Jees! Want me to go ask him if he swings the other way so you can get yourselves up him?’

‘Michael might want to,’ Larry said quietly.

‘Yeah. Anyway, that’s enough happy hour for me. I’m off.’

‘Okay. We’ll meet you back at the flat, yeah?’ Michael asked, but Eddie had already grabbed his coat and was leaving.

‘See you later, dude,’ Larry called after him.

Eddie didn’t reply, sauntering out of the pub as though he was being chased away by a rain cloud.

‘He’s a ray of sunshine as ever,’ Danny said.

‘That’s Eddie in a good mood,’ Larry replied.

‘What’s up with him?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘He’s your friend.’

‘Yeah, well, I’m not his shrink, am I?’

‘It’s like living with a teenaged Emo girl on the rag.’

‘He pays the rent. We were struggling before. Want me to get him out?’

‘No, we just need to be patient,’ Michael said diplomatically. ‘Come on, one for the road, guys?’

‘Absolutely,’ Larry quickly replied.

The students had a little tradition to get a shot of whisky at the end of the night, just before they made their way back to the flat. As they stood at the bar sipping their drinks, Michael and Larry were back to their eulogising of Samuel Allington, repeating how great he was, admiring all the wonderful things he did in the community. Being familiar with the fundraising at his church, Michael had heard about Samuel’s efforts, how he would volunteer a lot of his time to an organisation that helped disadvantaged children, taking them out on trips and such.

It was yet another area where Danny felt he didn’t measure up to that man. Danny could barely look after himself properly, let alone lend his hand to good causes. Could anyone really be that perfect, though? Surely there had to be some blemishes to Samuel’s character. Maybe he snorted cocaine or secretly downloaded kiddie porn. Isn’t that what all the heroes did these days?

Larry slammed his shot glass down with a belch. Danny had hardly touched his.

‘What’s up? A little too strong for Danny Boy?’ Larry teased.

Danny ignored him.

‘Anyway, I gotta go shake hands with the devil,’ Larry added.

‘Me too, I think,’ said Michael.

‘Whoa! You ain’t shaking anything of mine, Mikey!’

‘I meant
mine
.’

‘Are you sure you’re not batting for the other team?’

‘Oh shut up…’

Their bickering slowly faded as they walked towards the toilets, leaving Danny alone at the bar as he dragged his stubborn thoughts through his head. He looked down at the glass in his hands and swirled the amber fluid around. No matter how much he drank it was never enough to numb his feelings. There didn’t seem to be any escape from them.

Sometimes he wished he never knew of her, that she never even existed. At least then he wouldn’t have to go through all that torture and frustration. But then what kind of world would it be without her in it? Darker, greyer, colder.

He took another sip then spontaneously looked up towards the main entrance. The door swung open and she walked inside.

Most of the time she would be walking by on the other side of the street, or Danny would spy her out of the bus window. Since that night in September, there hadn’t been that many times when she’d been in the same room as he, so this was clearly about to be one of the closer encounters.

Everything slowed down. The clamorous chit-chat and the jukebox music seemed to gradually fade. Danny was only aware of her angelic beauty and his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

She walked up to Samuel, naturally. He got up and kissed her hello. They both looked so happy to see each other, so full of love. He seemed so perfect for her and she seemed so perfect for him.

After some small talk, Stella was evidently saying about getting a drink. Samuel’s body language indicated that he would go and get one for her, but she insisted that it was okay for her to go while Samuel carried on chatting with his friends. He sat back down. She walked towards the bar as she zipped open her purse.

Danny’s heartbeat quickened even more realising she was walking
directly towards him
. This was definitely a close encounter, the closest there could be. His legs felt weak. His skin flushed. At the last moment, she looked up from her purse and her body softly collided against Danny’s arm.

‘Oh, sorry,’ she said to him.

Danny smiled nervously, his power of speech failing him. She had spoken to him. He had entered her world. His existence was within her awareness.

But that’s all he was. Some random stranger that she accidentally bumped into. That was his introduction to her life. Surely there had to be more to it than this.

He leaned back against the bar. He could feel her arm still pressing against his. She was
touching
him, and she felt sublimely electric as Danny’s skin tingled.

Danny was rigid, trying to retain that physical contact with her for as long as possible. Such a long bar too, and of all the places she could have stood at, she was right there next to Danny.

He peered out of the far corner of his eye to see what he could of her. She seemed to be looking at her hand… at one of her fingers. And was she smiling?

Eventually she received her drink and the link was broken. Watching her walk away, Danny felt gutted, like he’d suddenly woken up with a crushing hangover. That was it. That’s all that Danny was going to be in the story of her life. Not a star-crossed lover of hers but some random nobody in a pub.

He knocked back the rest of his useless whisky in one. Michael and Larry were returning. Danny breathed in deeply.

He saw Stella standing above the table of friends. She was holding her hand out in front of them and they were all looking at it with gasps of delight. Of course, they were all looking at a
ring
on her finger.

An engagement ring.

Seven frames of pool were about all that Eddie could stand. Larry wasn’t so bad, but Danny was just plain boring while Michael had his nauseating
I have to be nice to everyone else I’ll be going to hell
attitude that was incredibly tiresome.

Eddie didn’t believe in God, didn’t really believe in anything. He didn’t even believe in having a dream, or think that he would ever discover the key to what he wanted to do with his life. It was a waste of time trying to find it anyway. He hadn’t come to Dark Harbour because he wanted to. It was just that he had nowhere else to go. If anything he’d been dumped here by his worthless mother. She’d wanted to get him out of the way. Eddie knew it.

He stood outside Danny’s chip shop eating from a tray of chips, intermittently illuminated by the purple light of the neon fish that hung on the shop sign. Before leaving the pub, he’d noticed there were still two fifties on the side of the pool table, so Eddie swiped them and came here for his first meal of the day.

The smell of hot vegetable oil and the saline air swarming in from the sea reminded Eddie of his childhood holidays. They used to come to this town for a week each summer. It was the only token of fun his father ever afforded him, before he left his stupid mother. The town was local and it was cheap.

Eddie had never liked the place. It was usually showered by rain or shadowed by thick clouds. Litter floated along the pavements and the weathered buildings looked like they were all falling apart. And they were grimy, reminding him of the gormless kids at the caravan park who always had dried chocolate smeared over their faces and cherryaid stained lips.

Then there were all the unpleasant rumours he’d picked up. Stories about kids drowning in the sea, devil worshippers sacrificing people in the woods. It wasn’t a place he’d planned to return to but now it seemed that the sadistic hand of fate had dragged him back to these godforsaken shores.

At least the geeks he was living with now were better than the stoners at his previous place. Now they really were a bunch of pretentious arseholes. They’d smoke all night and talk to each other about incomprehensible existentialist crap as if they were being so profound. They didn’t take proper drugs, didn’t have the guts for a pill or the dragon. It got to the point where Eddie couldn’t get on with them anymore, so he’d stuffed his things into his bag and slept in a church porch for a week.

Then he got talking to some lad at the college football trials. Larry was trying out as a striker, the glory-seeker that he was, while Eddie, being tall and lanky, went for goalkeeper. Neither of them made the team, only making occasional reserve for the B team. In other words, it just underlined how they were complete losers. Larry would just make a joke about it though; it seemed he had the same warped sense of humour as Eddie.

As for the other two pricks in his flat, they were just friends of Larry. He’d heard their wonderful story about a dozen times, how Larry was out getting shitfaced one night because his whore of a girlfriend back home told him she didn’t think the long distance thing was working out (or in other words she was screwing someone else). Larry was apparently upset about it so got trashed on Newcastle Brown and sang
Solitary Man
by Neil Diamond in the streets at four in the morning.

Michael the Good Samaritan and his butt-buddy Danny were walking home from the club and found him. They sat with him to commiserate about his heartbreak, took him home, made him drink water so he could sober up, and gave him the genius nickname of Diamond. And they all fucking lived happily ever after. Until they dragged Eddie along to spoil their party, that was. Wasn’t such a gay Enid Blyton adventure then.

Eddie paused eating for a moment and removed his baseball cap. His head was itching, as it often did with wearing the hat all day. It was necessary to shield himself from the world around him and all the arseholes in it.

His hair was very black and would get rather wiry if he let it get long, so Eddie kept it quite short. His skin was a deep olive colour and even in the dead of winter he would look like he’d just come back from a fortnight away in the Maldives. Eddie had an inch long bullet of metal through his right eyebrow and he would often fiddle with it, twisting it round so that it would almost tear out of his skin.

The neon fish continued to hum as the light flashed off and on. Darkness then light, darkness then light. An endless cycle. Looking down the road, he could see a string of amusement lights along the promenade. Many of the bulbs had blown though, and were left to sway pointlessly in the wind. Typical for this dead end town. Everything was left to ruin.