Influence (14 page)

‘Her own school year
finished,’ he explained, ‘and her family have not long moved into the area, she
thought it would be a good idea to get a feel for the school in the final few
weeks of term. Bet she’s regretting it now. If she’d waited, Blair would have
been gone but he’s already spread a name for her and it’s catching, she might
be stuck with it now.

‘A nickname? How very
Bitch Tits.’ said Lizzie through a flush of hatred. Vic stood arms folded
watching the poor girl being taunted, unaware of what was being said.

‘I hate to admit, but
he’s outdone himself this time,’ he said begrudgingly.

‘Hit me,’ said Lizzie
urging the cruel title from Vic.

‘Humpty Dunphy.’

‘Bastard.’

‘I know right?’
Lizzie considered doing nothing. But only for a second. After all what could
Pallister do now? She was about to walk out of the place for the last time.

‘Cover me, I’m going
in,’ Lizzie slammed her locker door shut, and began to march.

‘Cover you?’ Vic
called after her, not quite sure if he was actually supposed to do something.
Lizzie lined up the massive frame of Bitch tits, who, she considered, had a
perverse cheek to remark on anyone’s weight. Lizzie had halved the distance
between her locker and the crowd before he caught her out the corner of his
eye. By the time he realised who was approaching she was almost on them. All
chatter stopped instantly, the mammoth boy instinctively pulled his nearest
cohort in front of him and Lizzie had to strain to keep a straight face. She
walked straight up to Hilary, picked up the garish pink bag at her feet and
took her by the arm.

‘Come with me,’ she
commanded. Hilary obeyed without uttering a sound. Lizzie lead the girl back
down the hall, no taunt followed them. Vic had watched the encounter fearing
the worst, half expecting another assault on Blair’s genitals. But now Lizzie
was heading back, Humpty Dunphy in hand.

‘It’s Hilary right?’ Hilary
nodded. ‘This is Vic. Vic, Hilary.’

‘Nice to meet you,
and thanks, um, I’m really sorry, but I don’t know your name,’ said Hilary. She
lifted her bag, which Lizzie had dropped at her feet, and pulled it on to her
shoulder. She
was
a big girl, but not unattractive. Her soft round face
was framed by long brown poker straight hair. Her full lips and large eyes made
for a warm and pleasant appearance. Her school uniform did nothing for her
though. The skirt and blouse combo complemented a slim or even average figure,
but in a fuller body it strained and groaned disapproval.

‘Oh yeah, I’m Lizzie,
but I’m afraid this is sort of a hello and goodbye. This is my last day at
Queen’s. But Vic here will look after you, at least for the short time
he
has left here.

‘It’s nice to meet
you too Vic, I’d be glad to have a friend here, that guy’s been on my case
since I arrived. What’s his problem anyway?

‘He’s um; well he’s
just a bit, um…’ fumbled Vic, stuttering and glowing a fierce hue.

‘He just an enormous
prick, in every sense. I could tell you how to make him leave you alone, but I
wouldn’t advise it, your stay here at Queen’s would be dramatic, but brief,’
said Lizzie, coming to Vic’s rescue. Lizzie had had to work hard with Vic when
they first met to help him work through his bashful stumbling. It had been
embarrassing especially since she couldn’t return his affection. Now, it appeared,
the baton had been passed. Lizzie was glad.

‘Well, thank you for
your help with him,’ said Hilary, her thumb jabbed over her shoulder to where
Bitch Tits had since left. ‘It’s a shame you’re not staying Lizzie, it would
have been nice to get to know you.’

‘I have no doubts
you’ll do just fine here Hilary, you’ll make friends in no time,’ Lizzie said,
but she did have doubts, major doubts. Along with her size Hilary’s other
downfall was likely to be her accent. She had a lyrical cockney twang which suited
her but Lizzie suspected it would feel out of place in these plumy
surroundings. ‘If you need anything Vic boards here and I’m sure he’ll be glad
to show you around, won’t you Vic?’

‘Eh, course. Course I
will, my problem. Eh, pleasure, no problem.’ Lizzie smirked.

‘Vic, I’ll see you
later, and Hilary,’ Lizzie extended a hand. ‘Nice to meet you, best of luck.’

Lizzie took the last
remaining items from her locker, threw her bag over her shoulder and made her
last trip down the wide corridor toward the main doors. As she did, a flash of
colour caught her eye. A group of younger females lingered chatting to one
another. One of them, a tiny blonde haired girl sported a t-shirt Lizzie
recognised instantly. The bastardised yellow smiley face on a black background
did not require the bold “Nirvana” emblazoned above it to tell her which band
the girl was a fan of. She must have felt Lizzie’s eyes on her as she looked
up. She smiled at Lizzie and raised a small hand to wave hello, Lizzie didn’t
know her, did not recall seeing her before but she returned both the wave and
the smile and pushed open the doors chuffed that a little bit of her was
staying behind.

Lizzie
stared into the face of the girl she knew so well, but now could barely
recognise. The girl’s eyes stared back heavy in purple and black, eyelashes
laden down with mascara. She scrutinised the girl’s face, ghostly white cheeks
making her lips stand out in black lipstick. Lizzie’s train trundled
relentlessly on toward Oxford like the second hand of a clock. She could, of
course, just turn right around when they stopped, jump on the first train home
and give the whole thing up as a really, really bad idea. God, she hadn’t even
told anyone where she was going, not even Janice. If anything bad happened
tonight her note telling her aunt not to wait up, as she was in Oxford with
friends, would leave scant clue as to where to send help.

The
familiar stranger’s face stared back at her, all the time jumping around within
the frame of the small hand held mirror, the combination of the train’s
movement and her own shaking hand made the image jerk and dance. She had raided
Janice’s stores for the appropriate make up, her own meagre collection, which
she hardly ever used, was made up of only a few subtle components, insufficient
to create the strangest camouflage required for her infiltration tonight.

It was too
much, she decided, the war paint was trying too hard, he would see right
through it, and if nothing else it made her feel uncomfortable. She enjoyed a
relative anonymity with her appearance. Ordinarily people would barely bat an
eyelid when she passed but she was all too aware of the glances she was drawing
from the other passengers on the train now, some intrigued some disapproving
but all directed at her. She took herself off to the cramped toilet at the far
side of the compartment and carefully removed the majority of her work. She
replaced it with understated colours. She inspected the result and was still
unsettled with the reflection, but it was acceptable. She ran the faucet and
attacked a rebellious clump of hair on the back of her head with a damp hand,
trying to bring it under control. What an idiot, she thought, not for the first
time. What in God’s name was I thinking? A new start, a new look, had been that
thought when she had moved south. Her dark wavy hair had been shoulder length
back in Scotland, but she had taken a picture from a magazine into the
hairdressers and asked the gum chewing girl to replicate the chin length style
and had left holding back tears. It hadn’t been the girl’s fault, she had
achieved an estimable facsimile to the model, or actress in the picture, but it
did not suit Lizzie, at all. Her hair was growing back now, infuriatingly
slowly, but it seemed to have a mutinous attitude, almost as if in punishment
to her ill-conceived choice.

She made
her way back to her seat only to realise there would be no time to sit and further
ponder the evening ahead, the train was pulling in to its destination. A surge
of fear flushed up through her body and she again asked the question – do you
really want to do this? You don’t have to you know. In fact, if Vic knew what
you were up to he would have a fit. She would walk as far as the pub she
decided, use that time to make a decision.

Lizzie
stepped out of the station into a gloomy but warm evening. It was that time of
the day where some passing cars had their headlights on and some did not. There
was a buzz around the place, the rush hour had passed and was replaced with
people heading out for meals and drinks, but too early for the drunken - too
loud- types to be spoiling it for everyone else. Lizzie had never heard of the
Turf Tavern, but had checked a map before heading out.

She headed
through Oxford and ran through her options as she went. The problem was she
didn’t know what she was heading into. If she had any inclination then a risk
assessment would be so much easier. What if Void worked out that that she
wasn’t supposed to be there? What if he asked about the symbol, the council or
whatever EC meant? She would be instantly found out; silence was probably not
going to save her this time. If he, or his friends, did have anything to do
with what happened to Robe she was walking into real danger, but if they didn’t,
just maybe she could glean some information from them.

She found herself
standing at the mouth of an alleyway where, according to the map, this Tavern
could be found. She had been walking slowly to give herself time to turn things
over in her head but she was still out of breath. Her palms were slick and the
muscles in her legs kept trying to relax making them shake.

Decision
time, she told herself. This was the point of no return, she could still walk
away, this is a public place, she considered, whatever goes down they can’t do
anything to you here, but then would that really stop someone who could do what
they did to Robe? This isn’t your responsibility, but then who else is going to
step up? Okay, but perhaps there was a safer way to go about this? Perhaps
walking straight into the lion’s den was less courageous and more careless? She
had just decided to walk once around the block to either pluck up courage or
talk herself out of it when it was too late.

‘Lizzie?’ a
now familiar voice made her jump. ‘Wow, that
is
you, you look great, I’m
so glad you came, I wasn’t sure you would,’ Void stood smiling, looking a
little uncomfortable, Lizzie looked around.

‘Where are
your friends?’

‘They’re
all inside. I’m running a bit late,’ Void stepped into the alleyway pushing out
his elbow in a gentlemanly gesture. Where Lizzie had unusually applied makeup,
Void had removed his altogether, and he looked all the better for it.

‘Look Void,
about tonight, I’m not really sure…’

‘Don’t
worry,’ he said, afraid she was about to change her mind. ‘They’re a good
bunch, and besides I don’t think there will be that many here tonight, a lot of
people have finals just now. Just think of tonight as an easy introduction, a
little head-start.’ A head-start on what? Lizzie was dying to ask, but dared
not.

‘I’m just
not great around new people you know?’

‘They’ll
love you Lizzie, trust me,’ Void wiggled his gallant elbow in encouragement.
Lizzie took a breath and slipped her hand through the crook.

The tight
alleyway took them to the front door of an unassuming little pub, extremely old
judging by the way no two lines of the building seemed to be running parallel
to one another. The noise of the place spilled out onto the street through its
open door. Void led the way inside and evidently knew the place well. Even
though it was getting dim outside it was far brighter than inside. If Lizzie
had entered alone she would have waited for her eyes to adjust, however Void
strolled confidently on. Muted yellow light, dark wood beams and tables of the
same colour flashed by. A smell of vinegar, home cooking and, of course, beer
hit her like a wall. The majority of the noise, which was significant, was
centred around the bar itself, a long curved slab of down-lit wood. Two bar
tenders were busy serving the crowd huddled in front of them, two or three
deep. From the look of the clientele students and tourists competed for
attention. Small tables filled the nooks and alcoves of the pub and these
seemed to have been acquired almost exclusively by students. As Void drew her
slowly but surely through the throng of bodies Lizzie caught a strong acrid
smell of tobacco. A group of young men sat a table and would have looked utterly
ridiculous but for the surroundings. Each held long, impossibly thin smoking
pipes, beautifully carved into gentle curves. The low ceiling, exposed beams
and Dickensian look to the place forgave their pretentiousness. The pipe
smokers were dressed in refined tweeds and held flames to their pipes which
appeared to be style over functionality. It was as if she was travelling back
in time the deeper into the tavern she went. Lizzie wondered if these young men
were who they were here to meet but Void led on past open side doors, which
allowed a pleasant breeze through the building and Lizzie spotted a well tended
and over populated beer garden which Void ignored, finally turning a small
corner to a table set under a particularly low part of the building.

A set of
three candles in the middle of the table gave the only discernible light to
this strangely private area within the busy pub. The round table was large, and
five chairs around it were occupied leaving three free. Lizzie didn’t recognise
four of the seated characters but one she did – Elvira.

‘Sorry
we’re late,’ Void apologised to the table. There was a pause as the various
faces looked up at the latecomers, stopping their conversations mid sentence.
Elvira was the first to speak.

‘Fuck is
this Void?’ the girl with the long black hair, wearing her heavy blusher and a
vicious scowl extended a finger at Lizzie.

‘This is
Lizzie, Lizzie this is everyone. Well not everyone, just a few of the council
really, this is-’

‘Shut your
hole Void,’ Elvira cut him dead shouting at him in a whisper.

‘It’s cool
Kara, relax. She had her invite. She’s not been sworn in yet obviously but I
didn’t see any reason she couldn’t come along, thought it’d be nice for her to
meet you guys.’

‘That’s not
your bloody decision Void. God, you’re in the door five minutes and you think
you’re running things round here. Are we supposed to just take your word for it
that she’s had her invite? And even if she has what makes you think you can
invite her here? This is
un
-official, remember, we need to stay under
the radar. We have no idea if we can trust her. I can’t believe how stupid you
are,’ Kara’s attack was all the more cutting in her heavy Geordie accent.

‘I might be
the newest member to the group Kara, but that doesn’t mean I have to wait for
your permission. If anyone has delusions of being in charge it’s you,’ Void’s
rebuff sounded woefully timid.

‘As longest
serving member of this group, and as far as you’re concerned, I
am
in
charge here, and I say get rid of her. No offence pet, but you’re not welcome
here okay,’ said Kara suddenly directing her gaze and anger at Lizzie. There
was plenty of offence in her words of course, and Lizzie considered this might
actually be a good get-out, before things got out of hand. But before she knew
it she was talking.

‘Well,
naturally I’m overwhelmed at such a warm welcome, and may I say thank you for
including us all in your debate,’ there was a chuckle from somewhere around the
table. ‘You’re right to be cautious, Kara, and I don’t blame you at all. You
don’t know me yet but that will change soon. You’re also right that Void here
seems to be a little devil may care with his mouth, and I can assure you I’ve
already scalded him for that. Look if you all want me to go, I will and I won’t
hold any grudge. I wasn’t sure myself if coming here tonight was a good idea,
but I guess I just saw the sense in what Void was saying, that it would be a
good ice breaker, that it would make things easier when we do this officially.

 Well, at
least I got to meet you all, have a good night,’ Lizzie turned to leave hoping
her words had done enough, but after three or four strides she began to fear
they hadn’t.

‘Wait,’
Kara’s voice came as a relief. Lizzie turned back to the table. ‘You can stay,
but keep your mouth shut. Both tonight and about anything that happens tonight,
you understand?’

‘Loud and
clear boss,’ said Void answering for Lizzie.

‘Okay, I’ll
get the drinks in, who’s having what?’

‘If you
wanted a pint you should have been here on time. Rest of you drink up, let’s
get on with it. And Void, she’s your responsibility, I don’t have time to
babysit and explain every little thing.’

‘Yessuh
boss lady,’ he said in some poor imitation of an accent. The table, for a short
time, went back to previous conversations and Lizzie was relieved the attention
was no longer on her. She looked around the table at the others present. She
recognised a few of them now from her first encounter at Jesus College, but
there were a few new ones. A couple, by the look of it, sat shoulder to
shoulder leaning in toward one another. In other circumstances they would have
blended anonymously into the background but here they were as conspicuous as a
search light in a blackout due to their normalness, no ghoulish makeup and
clothes of the time and style.

‘So I guess
I will be your guide tonight, a Virgil to your Dante if you will.’ Void’s words
made her realise she had been staring. Lizzie re-focussed.

‘I guess
so, although I don’t remember a scary bird from Newcastle anywhere in The
Divine Comedy.’

‘She’s okay,
it’s just posturing. Take no notice she has a thing with authority. I guess she
doesn’t like surprises, which is my fault. I probably should have cleared it,
I’m sorry if she embarrassed you.’

‘I’ll get
over it,’ said Lizzie. She noticed some movement at the table as jackets were
being passed around to find their owners. ‘Are you going to give me the whole
air stewardess demonstration then? Emergency exits, and remember to apply your
own oxygen mask before helping others with theirs?’

‘Not
exactly but I’ll try to keep you right as we go along,’ said Void, himself
getting to his feet to allow the rest of the table to make their way by him.
Lizzie and Void joined the back of the line as they made their way out of the
pub.