by Tim O'Rourke
“Annie’s been a good friend to me,” Pen said. “I met her a year or so ago. I worked for a local photographer. Weddings, that sort of thing. I never took any pictures. It was my job to try and get people to have photographs taken of their kids.
We had a stall set up in the local shopping mall, taking kiddie photos for ten pounds a go. Anyway, Annie comes along with this doll of a girl in a pram. My boss gives her the hard sell – telling her what a beautiful kid she’s got and it would be a crime not to have her picture taken. I could see that she really didn’t want to have it done – she didn’t look as if she had ten pennies to rub together let alone buy a photo. But my boss just keeps ragging on at her, until she gave in.
“He’s sounds like a real nice guy,” Chloe added.
“He was okay, just under pressure to make money, you know,” Pen said with a shrug of her shoulders. “Anyway, she has the picture taken, and although the photo wouldn’t be developed and sent to her for a few days, she has to pay up front. I’m working the register and see this all going on. She reluctantly comes over to me, opens her purse, and hands me the money in a five pound note and the rest in change. I take a peek in her purse and can see that this leaves her with nothing. I took down her address so I could post the picture to her a few days later.”
“Didn’t you feel guilty?” Chloe asked.
“I didn’t stop thinking about her for days. I wondered if her kid was going hungry or going without because we had taken her last ten pounds.
So when the picture was ready, instead of mailing it out to her, I personally went round to deliver it.
She lived in this scruffy-looking apartment block just outside town. I handed over the picture to her along with her ten pounds. But she refused to take it, she was too proud. So once she had gone back inside, I posted the ten pounds through her letterbox. As I was walking away, she came to the door and called me back. ‘Jeez, you are persistent,’ she said. She invites me in for a coffee and that was that, we became good friends.”
“What about a partner? Where was her daughter’s father?” I asked.
“Hit the road, as soon as he found out he was gonna be a daddy,” Pen explained.
Chloe shook her head and said, “Loser.”
“Yeah, I know,” Pen agreed. “It’s his loss. Katie’s a real cutie, a peach of a little girl.
Anyway, I started going round to see Annie and sometimes we would take Katie to the park.
Anyway, we would sit and talk and I would tell her how one day, I would own my own café. I promised her that if my dream ever came true, I would give her a job.”
“And here she is,” Chloe said as she glanced over at Annie who was laughing with a customer.
“That’s right. She might only be bar staff at the moment, but as I get on, so will she,” Pen said.
“Who looks after Katie while she’s at work?” I asked.
“I pay her a little more than the rest, you know to cover the cost of a babysitter,” Pen explained.
“That’s really sweet of you,” Chloe said.
“I know,” Pen smiled.
Pen’s opening night was a huge success.
Just before she closed for the night, Pen announced the winner of the fancy-dress competition. The winner was a guy in his early twenties, and he’d won a bottle of champagne. I got the feeling that Pen didn’t choose him because he was the best costume, but because he was probably the best looking. The winner looked to be very drunk, as he smooched away on the dance floor with Pen to ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow’, while the entire bar cheered and roared with good-natured laughter. I watched as Pen pulled the guy close and I felt a sudden stab of jealousy in my guts. Pen looked at me over the guy’s shoulder and smiled at me.
Chloe and I hung around until the last of the drinkers had staggered out into the night and Pen had locked the door behind them.
Pen turned to me, and beaming, she said, “Jim, I’ve done it. I’ve actually done it! I’ve escaped my past life and have a whole new world.” With a mischievous glint in her sparkling eyes, Pen laughed and said, “I’m the Wizard of Ooze!”
I couldn’t remember seeing her happier.
Chapter Twelve
Murphy
I didn’t see Pen after that night for a whole year. This wasn’t because I hadn’t wanted to; it was more of a matter of circumstance. I had been very busy that year at work and Chloe had decided to become a paramedic. What, with us both working alternate shift patterns, I was often climbing out of bed as she was getting in. Any free time we had became quite precious, so we usually spent this together, enjoying one another’s company.
Pen had been very consumed throughout the year trying to make ‘The Ooze bar’ a success.
I think even she had been surprised at how much work was involved in running your own business.
Even though we hadn’t managed to get together, we still spoke a couple of times a week on the phone and we still enjoyed writing each other the occasional letter.
It was in one of these letters, Pen told me that she was living with a guy. In the same letter, she also invited Chloe and me to stay with her over Christmas.
The weather, as usual for that time of year, had been awful, and our progress to Pen’s that Christmas Eve had been slow-going. Huge waves of snow had cut across the roads, hampering our view ahead. Chloe had brought with her a collection of Christmas songs on CD
and we wiled away the hours, keeping ourselves full of festive spirit by singing along to them.
We finally arrived at Pen’s just past 2
a.m. on Christmas morning. Pen was waiting up for us with two large mugs of hot chocolate at the ready. Once we had dragged our bags into the hallway, we sat in the lounge and talked in the glow of the Christmas tree lights that winked on and off.
“What do you think to the Christmas tree?” she asked as Chloe and I warmed ourselves.
“It’s huge,” I replied. Looking at its long branches and being reminded of the fir trees that had surrounded the great lake and its dark red waters.
“I had to cut the top off, just to get it into the house,” Pen laughed to herself.
“You’ve certainly done the house up wonderfully,” Chloe said, glancing around the room at the mass of decorations that hung from the ceiling.
“Marc helped me,” Pen said.
To hear of the guy’s name made my stomach ache with jealously again – or was it regret that it wasn’t me?
“Sorry he didn’t wait up to meet you, but he’s gone to bed,” Pen added.
“So, he’s living here with you?” I asked, trying to sound casual and matter-of-fact.
“Yeah, he moved in almost right away,”
Pen explained, but wouldn’t make eye contact with me.
“Must be love,” Chloe smiled, then glanced at me.
“He is kinda cute. We hit it off almost straight away,” Pen told us.
“So how did you meet?” Chloe asked.
“He just strolled into the bar one day looking for a job. I had just lost a barman and Marc said he had done bar work before – so I hired him there and then. He seemed to know what he was doing and got on well with the customers. He began to suggest a few ideas of how the café could run better.”
“Like what?” I was curious to know as it appeared to me that Pen’s café had been running just fine before this Marc suddenly appeared on the scene.
“Marc suggested that I start serving breakfast, you know nothing too much, eggs, bacon, and toast – that sort of thing. I was lucky really because his brother happened to be a chef and Marc thought it would be a good idea to hire him.”
“So they’re both working for you?” Chloe asked, shooting me another look with her dark brown eyes.
“Yep, Steve works in the kitchen and Marc is now my bar manager,” Pen explained.
“Bar manager? He’s been promoted through the ranks rather quickly,” I said.
“Wait ‘til you meet him, he’s a nice guy,”
/> Pen assured the both of us.
“I can’t wait,” I said, looking straight back at her.
I was woken to the sound of ‘Mary’s Boy Child’ by Bony M playing on the radio somewhere in the house. I peered at my watch and groaned when I read that it was only just after 7 a.m. Chloe and I hadn’t crawled into bed until the early hours, as we had sat up talking with Pen.
I rolled over and nestled my head against Chloe’s auburn-coloured hair.
“Merry Christmas, Chloe,” I said and kissed her cheek.
“What time is it?” she murmured without stirring.
“Just gone seven,” I told her.
“Aw, it’s still the middle of the night,”
Chloe groaned, pulling the bedding tighter about her shoulders.
“C’mon, sleepyhead, it’s Christmas day,”
I said, gently shaking her.
“Okay, Okay, what’s the rush?”
“Firstly, I want my present…” I started.
“Who says you’re getting one?” she murmured.
I ignored her teasing and continued. “And secondly, I’m dying to meet this Marc.”
“Mmm…he sounds rather intriguing. Pen seems to be hooked on him,” she said, still sounding half-asleep.
“I just hope she isn’t being used,” I wondered aloud.
“What d’you mean?” Chloe rolled over onto her back and looked at me through a pair of half-opened eyes.
“I dunno. Call it a copper’s nose, call it a hunch, but something just doesn’t feel quite right.”
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and got up. Chloe rolled over again as if to go back to sleep, so I grabbed one of the pillows and dropped it on her head.
“C’mon, I want my present,” I laughed.
“Your present is at the end of bed,” she groaned.
I looked down to see a brightly wrapped box. Excitedly, I removed the wrapping paper and the box lid and looked inside. “Carpet slippers?” I frowned.
“Don’t you like them?” she asked, peering over the top of the bed covers at me.
“I guess,” I said, looking at them.
Then, giggling, she whispered, “I’ve got your present right here.” Chloe pulled back the bedding to reveal her naked body.
“Happy Christmas, Jim,” I whispered to myself in delight. Dropping the slippers, I dived on top of her.
Squealing with pleasure, Chloe yanked the duvet over us, where we stayed together for another hour or so.
We showered, dressed, then made our way downstairs. Pen and Marc were already up and were cuddled up together on the couch by Pen’s enormous Christmas tree.
“Merry Christmas,” Pen beamed.
They both got up from off the couch.
“Marc, this is Jim and Chloe.”
Marc stuck out his hand and we both shook it warmly in turn.
“Good to meet you at last,” I said, looking into his eyes. They were a bright hazel-orange and I knew, like Pen, he was a Lycanthrope.
“Likewise, I’ve heard so much about the pair of you, particularly you, Jim,” Marc said.
“All good I hope.” I knew it was a bit of a lame reply but it was all I could think of saying.
Marc was, I guessed, in his late twenties. He was slim, tall, with light brown hair that dangled across his forehead. He wore a hooped earring in his left ear and had a short goatee beard.
“While you sit and get to know each other, I’ll go and get the champagne,” Pen said excitedly.
“Champagne? What’s the special occasion?” I asked Marc as Pen left the room.
“It’s Christmas, isn’t it?” he grinned, taking his seat back on the couch.
Chloe snuggled up cosily into a large armchair and I sat on the rug by her feet.
“Pen told us that you’re working at the café,” I said in an attempt to break the silence.
“Actually, I’m the bar manager,” he said in a way that right from the start illustrated his importance in Pen’s life and business.
“Yeah, she told us that,” I said nonchalantly as if it made no odds to me whatsoever. “What did you do before?”
“Before what?” Marc asked as if knowing what I was getting at.
“Before you met Pen?” I said, staring at him.
“This and that, all sorts of stuff, really,” he smiled back at me.
“Oh yeah, like what?” I tried to ask as casually as I could.
“Boy, when Pen said you were a cop, she wasn’t kidding,” Marc tried to joke.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“It feels like I’m under interrogation.”
Marc attempted to make this sound like a joke, but I knew he was really telling me to fuck off.
“How would you know what it feels like to be interrogated?” I pressed with an insincere smile playing on my lips.
He stared at me momentarily, those bright eyes of his weighing me up. Pen entered the room carrying a tray of glasses filled with champagne.
“Everyone’s hitting it off, I hope,” she said.
“We’re all getting along just fine,” Marc smiled back at her.
Pen handed out the glasses, then raised hers into the air. “A toast to new friends, new beginnings, and a very merry Christmas!”
We all stood and ‘clinked’ our glasses together.
“Merry Christmas,” Chloe and I said.
“Merry Christmas,” Marc grinned, raising the glass to his lips and taking a sip, and all the while eyeing me from over the rim of it.
Chloe and I made a move back home the day after Boxing Day. I had enjoyed the last few days spent with Pen. Although Marc and I hadn’t really hit it off, we remained polite and civil to one another but I got the feeling that he didn’t like me.
I wasn’t bothered as I didn’t trust him. I just couldn’t put my finger on it, but something just didn’t seem to sit right with him, and it wasn’t just the fact that he was a Lycanthrope.
“Are you sure you’re not jealous?” Chloe asked me as I attempted to explain the nagging feelings of concern I had.
“Jealous, what do you mean?” I asked, secretly wondering if that wasn’t the real reason for my dislike of Marc. “Why would I be jealous?”
“Aw c’mon, Jim,” Chloe sighed with a smile, as we set off in the car for home. “She’s a beautiful woman and I guess she always has been – even back when you were just a couple of kids.
Do you seriously expect me to believe that you didn’t have a crush on her?” Then fixing me with a cool stare, she added, “And perhaps you still have?”
“Nonsense,” I said, shaking my head.
“We were like brother and sister – that’s all it was back then and now. I’m not jealous. I’m happy for Pen if she’s met someone who’s good for her and will make her happy. I just get the feeling that Marc isn’t going to do that for Pen.”
“Why not?” Chloe asked, still watching me.
“Dunno,” I sighed. “Just something…”
“Pen will be okay. She’s all grown up now. You both are, you’re not fourteen anymore,”
she said, steering the car along the narrow country roads, which were still heavy with snow.
“I know…I know…” I said thoughtfully, sitting back in my seat and watching the world that I had come to call my home, speed past outside.
Chapter Thirteen
Murphy
Come spring, I had managed to secure myself a secondment to ‘The Special Operations Department’ (or Special Ops as it was commonly known) at work. I was therefore no longer carrying out uniform patrol and spent most of my time working undercover, undertaking covert observations on drug dealers and armed robbery suspects. I had my Inspector to thank for such a rapid progression in my career. Like me and the other officers on his team, he had handpicked all of us, because we were like him – we were all Vampyrus.
Part of my new role involved me setting up ‘stings’ to capture the rogue Lycanthrope who were committing crimes in
our county. As part of this team, I learnt how to track them; to hide secret cameras to help locate the wolves and capture not only them, but their crimes on tape.
This would be undisputable evidence that would eventually determine the wolf’s fate when taken down into The Hollows and tried before the Elders.
These were extremely dangerous operations and the risk to the undercover officer’s life was high. If the intended target became suspicious in any way, which had happened on several occasions before, the Lycanthrope would show no hesitation in killing the Vampyrus cop. I therefore had to become extremely skilled in secreting the cameras so they were not obvious or visible to the wolf we tracked. The cameras that I used were known as ‘pin-hole cameras’, the idea being that they were so small they could actually be hidden in the pin-hole on the lapel of a suit jacket, in a book, in a car, or hotel room. I became quite skilled and cunning in my deployment of these cameras and would hide them in the faces of television sets, in alarm clock faces, behind two-way mirrors, and even in the ceiling right above a bed where the Lycanthrope intended to murder his human victim.
As I was very busy with work, I hadn’t seen Pen since Christmas. We continued to speak on the telephone and exchange letters. Pen always listened with interest as I enthused about my job, but she said very little. I guess it was difficult to listen to me babble excitedly on about how I spent my time hunting down her own kind and sending them to trial down in The Hollows.
When I asked Pen how ‘The Ooze Bar’
was doing, I noticed she was often reluctant to elaborate on her business and even more secretive when I asked about Marc. Again, I often felt that sense of unease about Marc. So, when my Inspector authorised me a few days leave that Easter, I took the opportunity to go and visit with Pen. Unfortunately Chloe was unable to get holiday from work, so I went on my own. On Good Friday morning, I threw a packed bag into the boot of our car and began the long drive to Pen’s.
As soon as Pen opened her front door, I could see she had lost weight and looked tired.
“How ya doing?” I asked, pulling her close to me and hugging her tight. I was shocked at how bony she felt in my arms.
