Chasing the Sun with Henry

by Gary Brockwell

  I turned to see Greg Dixon, Sally’s brother, smirking at me.

  ‘My mistake, thought you were waiter!’ he added sarcastically, addressing the table. He was extremely intoxicated and even more obnoxious than usual.

  ‘He’s a balloon modeller! Married to my sister,’ he said loudly, pointing at me accusingly from his seat.

  Some of the other guests, male and female, as drunk as him, sniggered at this statement and repeated, ‘Balloon modeller’ through more sniggering. Others went quiet; two got up and retired from the table altogether, sensing a growing situation.

  ‘I didn’t know you were in the Lombarders, Greg,’ I commented, trying to rise above his behaviour.

  ‘I am a guest here. Business people, my kind of people – look around. You don’t fit here,’ he replied, while indicating with a swaying hand, just in case I wasn’t sure where his kind of people were situated around the table.

  All the sniggering had now stopped. I said no more and began to walk past the table.

  Greg Dixon uttered something under his breath.

  ‘Didn’t catch that,’ I replied, stopping, but not looking at him.

  ‘I said where is your wife tonight?’

  I didn’t answer. For the past few weeks Jennifer had not been around on a Saturday night to eat cake, moan and generally be a mood vacuum. In fact, I hadn’t seen her since my encounter with Phoebe the shocking pink poodle in her photographic studio. Instead, Sally had taken to going out on a Saturday evening by herself, to spend time with Ignatius McKenzie the spiritualist. Her appointments are always around the time we eat; therefore we no longer partake in our traditional Saturday night Chinese meal – Singapore noodles for me, chicken chow mein for Sally and sweet-and-sour chicken Hong Kong-style to share. Sally now also says this food is not good for us anyway and insists that she will grab something later. However, when she returns, late in the evening, she always comments that she is not hungry. In fact, she doesn’t really speak at all.

  Since Clifford has been in hospital we have all stopped going to the Sunday quiz night. I spend my evening by the old farmer’s bedside, while Sally tends to her bees. She says they need more attention now that the good weather is here and the evening is best to examine the hives. The day’s heat trapped in the air and the oncoming dusk makes them docile, she says.

  ‘That’s you all over, silence. Perhaps you should check where she really is,’ Greg spat.

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I retorted, taking the bait.

  ‘Come on, guys, we’ve all had a drink, time to chill,’ reasoned the Lombarder to his left, using words I presumed he had learned from his teenage son.

  ‘It means she will never change and neither will you!’ Greg shouted, getting up from his seat.

  Eyes from the neighbouring tables settled on us.

  ‘C’mon, Greg, let’s get you some air,’ said the man next to him, taking hold of his arm at the elbow.

  He walked him around the table and raised his eyes to me in sympathy before heading through the dining room and toward the double doors leading to the bar.

  The remaining people seated around the table now engaged in conversations as if nothing untoward had occurred, while I stood there looking on, ignored.

  Time to leave, I thought to myself, and headed toward the bar to make my excuses to Mike the treasurer, who had disappeared, to much cheering, through the doors after dessert. I was prepared to face Greg if he was in the bar; I was quite sure he wouldn’t even know what he had said. But before I could reach the door a female voice called to me from the last table.

  ‘Excuse me, are you the magician?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes I am,’ I replied, trying to sound upbeat.

  ‘Would you show us a trick, please?’ she said, looking around the half-full table.

  ‘I would love to, but I have finished for the night, I am afraid.’

  ‘Oh, don’t say that! Please, just one trick. Please!’

  I realised with the size of the dining room and the multiple conversations being conducted on each table, the rest of the guests seated here were oblivious to the scene that had recently played out toward the back of the room.

  ‘Okay, okay! Just one, though!’ I answered with a smile.

  The table cheered and seemed receptive. With the element of heckling absent, combined with the high level of alcohol consumed, I guessed a simple trick would be as effective as a complicated sleight of hand. In fact, I prepared to perform the trick I had commenced as Snoddy and the ‘lovely’ Melanie arrived.

  I sat down next to her and took the pack from my inside pocket again. As I removed the cards, I asked the woman if she had ever performed magic herself.

  She shook her head and smiled, already drawn in.

  I false-shuffled the deck while looking at her and her fellow guests.

  ‘Okay, what’s your name?’ I asked, putting the cards face down on the table.

  ‘Kate.’

  ‘Right, Kate, I want you to choose two cards, replace them in the middle of the pack, and by giving them a strike with your hand, force them to the bottom of the pack. Can you do this, Kate?

  Kate nodded.

  ‘Are you sure, Kate?’

  Again, she nodded, laughing this time.

  ‘Good! Oh, and if it goes wrong, I can claim you didn’t hit the pack in the magical way! Gets me off the hook, so to speak!’

  I fanned the cards, pushing upward slightly the two I wanted her to select. Kate waved her index finger over the cards, deep in concentration.

  ‘C’mon, Kate! Steve Monroe wants to start the dancing by 9pm!’ I teased.

  She laughed lightly and grabbed the cards I intended.

  ‘Excellent! Excellent! Okay, you chose the eight of clubs and the seven of spades,’ I said, splitting the pack in half with the faces down. ‘Correct?’

  ‘Correct,’ she replied.

  ‘Okay, place them back in the pack, on top of this pile,’ I instructed quickly, pointing to the left-hand pile of cards.

  I placed the right pile on top of the left and sat there looking at the deck. ‘This is it, Kate! This is where the magic happens!’ I exclaimed, still looking at the cards.

  I could feel the eyes of everyone at the table on me, and hear their collective chuckle. I looked up.

  ‘It’s your moment. Have a practice on the table. I’ll show you,’ I instructed.

  I laid my palm out straight, centimetres from the white tablecloth, and raised and lowered it three times, before striking firmly.

  ‘Now it’s your turn.’

  Kate mimicked exactly the motion I had demonstrated, before crashing her hand down hard upon the table.

  ‘All right, Kate! All right! Take it easy!’ I said, jumping back in mock surprise. ‘Who is your partner?’ I asked, looking around the table.

  A stout middle-aged man put up his hand and smiled.

  ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘John.’

  ‘I wouldn’t upset her, John, if I was you!’ I advised wisely.

  ‘I already know!’ he teased back.

  I mimicked Kate’s technique and exhaled loudly.

  ‘Okay, joking over, this is it, Kate. On the count of three I want you to strike the deck and not think it’s John’s head this time.’

  The whole table laughed, as she got her hand in position.

  ‘One,’ I said.

  ‘Two,’ the whole table chipped in, and I knew I had won them.

  ‘Three!’ we all stated as Kate struck the cards.

  With her hand released, I quickly turned over the pack and removed the two cards at the bottom.

  ‘Kate, are these your cards?’ I asked, showing her and the table the eight of spades and the seven of clubs, which had b
een planted there from the start.

  ‘Yes!’ she squealed.

  The table applauded as I gathered up the cards, conscious as ever not to draw attention to the switching of number and suit.

  ‘How did you do that?’ asked Kate.

  ‘I didn’t do anything, it was all you!’ I teased.

  ‘But… but that’s impossible,’ she reasoned, looking around the table for an explanation. ‘John, how did he do that?’

  ‘I have no idea, babe, but it was fun.’

  I smiled to myself as I collected up the cards.

  ‘You can’t leave now!’ she stated, placing a hand on my forearm.

  ‘I am afraid so – I said one trick, Kate!’ I reasoned.

  ‘Oh, I know, but that was fantastic. Please, just one more.’

  ‘Yeah, go on, just one more,’ murmured the other guests around the table.

  I pushed the cards back into the box.

  ‘Besides, my friend Cerys is coming back now, I am sure she would love to see a trick.’

  My hand stopped on the cards I had just placed in my pocket, giving me a latter-day Napoleon look.

  There, walking through the double doors toward the table, was Cerys. A Cerys I had not seen before, but still a very beautiful Cerys. Gone were the shapeless fleece, tied-back hair and fresh face. Instead she wore a black, backless, figure-hugging, full-length dress. And what a figure it celebrated – it revealed the shape and feminine magnificence of her full breasts and allowed a tantalising glimpse of cleavage, not in a vulgar way, but presented as a delicately powerful elegance. Her waist and hips were in perfect proportion to complete the hourglass effect. Marco had indeed been busy this morning. Her hair, although always tied back when we met at the beach, reached far below her shoulders, indicating that when loose, it would have tumbled in waves past the middle of her back. But now it was cut to her shoulders, bobbed and completely straight. The edge followed her jawline perfectly. For the first time since I had known her, her face was made up, giving her skin an amazing doll-like sheen that emphasised her stunning blue eyes and highlighted her slender cheekbones. She looked simply stunning as she walked around the far side of table to take the vacant seat next to Kate.

  I withdrew my hand from inside my jacket and tried to look calm. What should I say? Should I greet her? Should I ignore her? Kate made my decision for me.

  ‘Cerys! Cerys! This is… Sorry, what is your name?’ asked Kate.

  ‘Eddie’

  ‘This is Eddie; he’s a magician! He performed a trick for me. He’ll do a trick for you, it’s amazing, really amazing!’ gushed Kate.

  Cerys took her seat and looked at me across the table.

  ‘Nice to meet you, Eddie,’ she said in a friendly manner, her parted lips and half-smile revealing her perfect teeth.

  ‘Likewise,’ I replied, holding her stare, but not meaning to.

  ‘Where have you been, anyway?’ asked Kate, totally unaware of the connection between us.

  ‘Nowhere, why do you ask?’ responded Cerys accusingly.

  ‘Ooooooooh, easy!’

  ‘Have you been a naughty girl outside with Cole?’ added Kate.

  This drew nudges and winks from around the table.

  ‘Or was it someone else?!’ John chipped in.

  My heart sank as I had to let the thought of Cerys being intimate with another man wash over me, and on another level, not being able to defend her from this juvenile twaddle ate me up inside.

  Cerys looked annoyed and trapped; my presence making it worse, I was sure, as she felt she had to explain herself.

  ‘You lot have got dirty, dirty, minds,’ she began. ‘If you must know, I was outside with Cole talking to a guest, a possible business contact; the real reason he asked me, as always, was to walk me around like a show pony.’

  The guests at the table laughed.

  ‘Where is Cole now, then?’ asked Kate.

  ‘Adjusting his flies!’ said a diner, to much laughter.

  The urge to leap over the table and grab him by the lapels of his jacket coursed through me. It was strange, I thought, how my reaction differed completely from hearing my drunken brother-in-law’s comments about Sally.

  ‘They are still talking, got other stuff they want to discuss – not for my ears apparently,’ replied Cerys, ignoring the jibe.

  ‘Who is it?’ asked Kate.

  ‘Elliot Wallace, I think is his name, seems a nice guy.’

  No one around the table had heard the name, but it jolted something inside of me.

  ‘Wouldn’t mind having a chat with him myself, always good to network,’ stated John.

  ‘Right, has the inquisition finished now? Can this gentleman show me his magic?’ said Cerys, while reaching across the table for a wine bottle.

  Her movement allowed me aview of her buttocks shaped tightly beneath her dress, which I tried to register as quickly as possible to ensure no one caught me. Inspection over, there was, to my eyes, no visible panty line. With this and Cerys’ words, ‘Can this gentleman show me his magic?’ buzzing around my mind, it was all I could do not to smile and snigger. Perhaps, I thought, I was juvenile enough to join this table after all.

  I cleared my throat and prepared to speak, unsure of the range of octaves my vocal cords would present for communication. I hoped I wouldn’t be that teenage boy on the beach again, as I had been during our second encounter.

  ‘Would you prefer a card or coin trick?’ I asked when she had sat back down.

  ‘Um, let me see,’ Cerys said, sipping her wine. ‘A good card trick, I think. Not one of those ones where you merely swap the suits and the numbers around and pretend they are the same cards chosen. That said, I don’t recall seeing a coin trick.’

  ‘Coin trick it is, then!’ I laughed, and in doing so invited the whole table to respond.

  ‘Okay, Mr Eddie…?’ began Cerys.

  ‘Dungiven. Eddie Dungiven,’ I replied, trying to keep a straight face.

  ‘Okay, Mr Eddie Dungiven, entertain me!’

  ‘Do you have a coin?’ I asked.

  ‘You want money off me before you start?!’ she exclaimed to the table.

  Cerys reached inside her clutch bag and revealed an even smaller matching purse, and from this she took a 10p piece. She stretched over Kate and placed the coin in front of me on the table.

  ‘There you go, and I want it back!’

  ‘Would it be better if we swapped places?’ Kate said.

  ‘Would be easier,’ I confessed.

  And with that Kate got up and allowed Cerys to slide into the seat next to me. She sat looking at me, a huge grin upon her face, and close enough that her perfume teased me and filled my senses.

  I performed an old but timeless routine. I began with a coin roll, moving the coin over the tops of my knuckles. While looking at the guests, I commented that the trick was easy because the coin was in fact made of rubber.

  With a dubious murmur coming from the table, I stopped rolling and took the coin between my hands and pulled it, and in doing so, appeared to bend it.

  ‘See, see,’ I stated. ‘Here, Cerys, you feel it,’ I added, handing her the coin.

  She felt obliged to pull the coin in the same manner I had, but much to her amusement the metal remained solid. She looked at me, laughing, and handed back the coin.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ I asked, trying to sound puzzled. And with that, I let the coin slip from my hands and onto the table with a tinkling sound. ‘Cerys, what have you done?!’ I exclaimed, disappointed.

  ‘Nothing!’ she chuckled.

  I picked the coin up and moved it around my hands, making it disappear and reappear seemingly at will.

  ‘Okay, I want you to look after the coin, not let me take it. Do you think y
ou could do that? Maybe after that, you could work some magic, the same as Kate did.’

  Kate smiled and looked around proudly.

  ‘Okay,’ said Cerys.

  ‘Good, turn over your palm,’ I instructed.

  Cerys obliged and I reached across and placed the coin in her hand. Touching her hand in public brought an excitement that found me concentrating on my breathing. I looked into her face, sensing she felt the same. We had embraced and kissed hours before and no one in this room would ever be aware of the fact.

  ‘Now, Cerys, you need to keep hold of the coin. Close your hand into a fist.’

  Cerys followed the instruction and sat quiet and still, looking at her hand.

  ‘Tell you what, Kate, have you ever seen her as this quiet before?’ I asked.

  ‘Never! You should be around more often, we would get some peace!’ she teased.

  I saw the corner of Cerys’ mouth twitch as she tried to stifle a grin.

  ‘I’ll see what I can do!’ I said, staring directly into Cerys’ eyes as she looked up. ‘Now, Cerys, I need you to…’ I began to say, but stopped, looking at the right sleeve of my jacket.

  I touched the top of my sleeve as a frown formed on my face, lifted my arm and shook it from side to side, until a 10p piece was dislodged from inside the sleeve and landed onto the table.

  ‘Please open your hand, Cerys.’

  And she did, slowly, playing along at being my assistant. Acting aside, she did genuinely looked surprised at the realisation that as intended, she hadn’t felt me withdraw the coin before she closed her palm.

  ‘Very good, very good indeed!’ She nodded.

  ‘Okay, let’s try again,’ I said.

  Cerys held out her hand again.

  ‘No, tell you what, let’s make it so I cannot get anywhere near the coin,’ I said, placing it in front of her on the table. ‘I want you to put your hand flat on top of this, okay?’

  Cerys again obliged.

  ‘There is no way I can get that coin, is there, Cerys?’

  She shook her head, but with little confidence.

  ‘There is no way it could move through your hand into mine, is there?’ I said, placing my hand lightly on top of hers as I spoke.