by Kane, Paul
Katherine’s life before she met Ed had been dull, unadventurous and flat. She thought all that would change when she married him. She’d been wrong, oh-so wrong. If anything it was worse now than when she was young. And every moment that God sent she wished she was someone else, somewhere else, doing something else. It didn’t matter what; all Katherine knew was that she was slowly losing her mind because of the monotony of her existence. Playing the dutiful wife and mother when she really wanted to jet off to another country and have a fling with a complete stranger experienced in the wilds of sexual experimentation. Ed must have thought it was called the ‘missionary position’ because you had to use it religiously.
Was it too late, she wondered? Could she make a fresh start, take Fraser away and make a new, more exciting like for herself somewhere? Could she really do that to Ed? These were selfish thoughts. But they plagued her all the time, so much so they found their way out through her mouth in the form of criticisms and sideswipes. If she wasn’t careful she’d end up becoming the very model of a nagging old fishwife.
“So, I guess we’re stuck with it,” said Ed, putting down the luggage at the side of her. “We’ll have to make the best of a bad situation. I might just ring the hotel though and let them know we’ll be a bit late.”
Katherine tutted. “Why don’t you stand up for yourself a bit more, Ed? You spend all your time dealing with the unfair treatment of other people, and when your own family gets messed around…”
“That’s different, Kath.”
“No it’s not. They should’ve let us know. Mind you, it wouldn’t have happened in the first place if we’d been flying.”
“No, there are never any disruptions when you fly, are there? I’ve been using trains all my life. They’re much more… At least you know where you are with trains.”
“And where are we, Ed?” Katherine asked, batting her brown eyes. “Where exactly are we?” There was a nasty tang to the words that her husband couldn’t really miss.
“What do you mean?”
Katherine looked away to the side. “Nothing. Forget about it. Let’s go and wait on the platform.”
“No, hold on. I want to know what you meant.”
“I didn’t mean anything, Ed. Let’s just forget about it.” Behind her, Katherine could hear the man from the queue arguing with the ticket guy about something. She tuned in for a second and heard the words ‘booking not registered’. The man with shoulder-length hair was threatening to speak to someone in charge unless they got the mess sorted out. Now that was how it should be done, that was the only way to make people listen. Kick up a fuss. It wasn’t ‘safe’, but it got results, and no-one ever pushed you around.
Katherine pulled Fraser along by the hand. Her son looked how she felt. “For heaven’s sake, Fraser, smile,” she said. “We’re supposed to be on holiday.”
Sagittarius (represented by the bowman or centaur): The Sagittarian personality looks on the bright side of life nine times out of ten. Even if something is wrong in their world, they know that it won’t be long before their life is back on track. Naturally they get upset sometimes, who doesn’t? But this passes more quickly for the Sagittarian than for other signs. They are usually quite content with their lot. They are a lively bunch and love to be out and about with friends or companions––they hate to be repressed or restricted. The Sagittarian personality is also extremely intelligent and will enjoy reading or expanding their knowledge in some way. Their most distinctive trait is truthfulness. Again, as with other qualities we’ve discussed in this book, it can be a very good and a very bad thing. Obviously it means you can rely on a Sagittarian to give you an honest opinion. But watch out if they’re riled because they’re likely to tell you a few home truths about yourself that you might not like. They can be quite cutting with their observations, especially if they are upset or angry about something.
Cancer (represented by the crab): Cancer people are amongst the kindest in the zodiac. They are considerate, and tend to put others first before themselves, which at times can lead to them losing the odd argument. Like their symbol, the crab, who scuttles along sideways, they tend to come at problems or situations from a sideways perspective. Extremely home loving, this can manifest itself in a need to feel safe and secure, and when challenged they will withdraw and hide. Cancer folk are highly attuned to the needs of others though (some even claim psychic abilities), which helps them when they are in relationships. They always see when something is wrong or needs attention and use their unique ways of tackling problems to fix whatever it is that needs fixing.
Capricorn (represented by the goat): Capricorn people can often be misunderstood. They come across as serious, detached and sombre, full of pessimism and bleak warnings. Actually, they probably have the best sense of humor of all the signs, even if they are at pains to reveal this. So, what makes them so grave much of the time? Is it a sense of world-weariness, a ‘seen it all before’ mentality? Sort of. Capricorn people can tend to have a downer on the world, if they’ve had bad experiences or have been in a situation where they are picking up a lot of negative vibes.
The light in the toilets was blue, to stop the junkies from jacking up.
It didn’t bother Zachary Tench. He didn’t need to see his veins to take this particular drug. Just see the white powder, just find his nose. Fuck, that felt good. And he needed to feel good. He was in a bad, bad situation. If this stuff could make him feel better, then he was all for it.
He heard the main door go, but the coke was kicking in, tingling. He bent slightly in the cubicle; the footsteps passed by on their way to the urinals. It wasn’t Terry or Pete, or any other of Wyatt’s gorillas. Not that he thought it would be for one second. They wouldn’t find out what he’d done for a while yet, and by that time he’d be long gone.
Zach sat down on the toilet, head resting against the cistern. A nondescript holdall was by his feet. But it wasn’t filled with clothes or anything else he’d need for the trip. Zach reached down and opened it up. He just couldn’t resist looking inside every now and again, making sure it was still there, making sure this gamble was all worth it. Life or death, win or lose: you play the odds and take your chance.
The contents of the casino’s safe were still in there.
Calmer now, he took out one bundle of cash and thumbed the money. He fought the urge to whistle in case the man at the urinal heard him.
I’ll say this much for you, Zachary Gavin Tench, you’ve got some nerve. A cool hundred grand.
The combination of the drugs and dosh took his mind off how he’d acquired this fortune for a moment. But it soon came back to him: stealing into Wyatt’s office, then stealing the money right from under the man’s nose like that. He could justify this by saying it was only what was owed. His retirement fund; payment for being Wyatt’s hired hand these past few years. It made him want to puke when he thought about it. How Wyatt had deceived him; turned him into something he could no longer stomach, someone who stood by and did nothing to help that poor girl Colette. Zach gripped the money tighter when he remembered what that bastard had done to keep her quiet.
He knew the law was no protection against men like Wyatt; never had been. That’s why he had to get away before the net tightened and he ran out of options. Go on the run, lay low for a while, and then maybe find a way to get out of the country. It wasn’t going to be easy, he knew that as well. But anything was better than the life he’d been living as one of Wyatt’s lackeys. Zach still had a few friends who might help him out, people he could probably trust––if they were paid just enough. There were no ties to keep him in this city anyway, no one he really cared about or who cared about him. There hadn’t been since Sally walked out and the barriers had gone up again. He could hardly blame her after the way he’d acted, the things he’d said and done. It was better to keep your distance and not form attachments, especially in his line of ‘work’.
The splintering of bone, the crack of broken arms and legs…
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Zach heard the taps running outside now. The guy was finishing up. The hand-dryer coughed out its air and then the door went again. It was time for him to get out of here. He jammed the money back into the holdall, wiped his nose, and opened the cubicle door. Zach looked at himself in the mirrors opposite; he didn’t like what he saw staring back at him. But he could live with it, just. He hoped.
Scorpio (represented by the scorpion): Scorpios have a bit of a reputation. They’re seen by some as the bad boys and girls of the zodiac, and seen by others as just plain bad news. This is quite unfair really as the vast majority born under this sign are very nice people who are a delight to spend time with. All right, it may be true that they do blow their tops from time to time, and have a tendency to do things on the spur of the moment they might later regret, but it gives them character. They can be obsessive and even possessive, with fixed ideas about life, and can be a torrent of raging emotions beneath the skin. In their dealings with others they might distance themselves, possibly because they have been let down or hurt in the past when they have given more of themselves than they should.
In dealings with money, Scorpios come into their own. Everyone needs this to survive, but people born under this sign know that it can buy you influence, prestige, and is an important status symbol in today’s society. They like to compete in the big money stakes even if they don’t have that much of it themselves. They might bet the shirt off their back to raise some brass, or even get into debt to give the impression they are doing better than they actually are.
Whatever career a Scorpio chooses, it must have value. Their work life is very important and it must serve a purpose they feel comfortable with. They have to know that their efforts are leading to something worthwhile. It’s also necessary for Scorpios to let off their pent up emotional energies somehow. And if this can’t happen at work it must happen at play.
Mary Dowling was late. As always.
Careering along the platform, she bumped into a man coming out of the toilets, causing him to drop his holdall. He pulled back sharply but his reflexes seemed dulled. She stooped to pick up the bag, but his hand still got there first.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m… I’m sorry.” Damn, she should just shut up now because she sounded such an idiot. She didn’t know where her mind was half the time these days. “I’m late for the train.” You didn’t have to tell him that, he doesn’t want to listen to you waffling on. Shut up now, just shut up, Mary. “That’s why I’m in a hurry.”
The man, who looked like he hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in weeks, clutched the bag to his chest. “The train’s been delayed,” he told her.
“Has it? Has it?” Of course it has, that’s why there are people still on the platform. Now walk away, Mary. “Oh, that’s good. Thank you… I mean, I’m sorry. I… thank you.”
The man walked off down the platform, looking back over his shoulder at her. Wanted to be away as soon as he could, probably. No big surprise; she was a walking disaster area, twenty million things buzzing around in her brain twenty-four seven. Worries about this, worries about that. Worries about work––the fact that they were laying off so many people at the mobile phone place––worries about how her ageing father was coping now that she’d finally moved away from home; and worrying about him worrying about her and how she was going to pay the mortgage. Worries about her friends and how they were dealing with various ups and downs in their lives––they always seemed to come to her with problems.
And worries about her voice.
That last one, the most important one at the moment, had kept her awake most of last night. Not that she slept much anyway, which was another thing to worry about. She’d spent all week trying to talk customers into buying the latest Nokia, Motorola or Siemens, sometimes going blue in the face explaining the different tariffs, contracts and the new gadgets that seemed to be coming out weekly to hook the punters. The latest was a big push about picture messaging, which as far as she could see was just a stupid gimmick so you could pull faces at your mates while you were on the phone… although it would cut down on the amount of infidelity that could go on, as husbands and partners would no longer be able to just ring in and say, “Sorry, darling, I’m working late again.” But that was getting off the point, as Mary was often wont to do.
She’d been working––and talking––really hard in the hopes that she wouldn’t get the sack, lose her new house, and end up with no money for food or anything else. There she was again. Stick to the point, Mary, you muddlehead. But as well as that she’d also been practicing for the talent show auditions taking place today, belting out numbers like ‘I will Survive’ and ‘Dancing Queen’ (the 70s were her favorite era for music) so loud that her neighbors came round to complain about the noise several times. Never mind, it would all be worth it if she could impress the judges. Although she wouldn’t be impressing anyone if she couldn’t get a note out. Mary quietly sang a verse of ‘Brown Girl in the Ring’, drawing a few funny looks from the family who’d just come onto the platform. She smiled at them and mouthed the word sorry. The little boy, clutching his mother’s hand, frowned.
She tried not to worry about it. She’d been waiting too long for a chance like this one. Ever since she could remember, Mary had wanted to sing––properly, for a living. She used to perform at Christmas and birthday parties when the whole family was gathered, ignoring the aunties and uncles who called her dizzy whenever she forgot a word or line. Ignoring the put-downs from cousins who laughed whenever she fell over during her made-up dance routines. It was just nice to be up there, doing what she loved the most––in front of an audience, appreciative or otherwise.
Mary had fostered this love throughout her school years, even joining a choir so she could work her way up in the ranks to soloist. But dreams were all well and good in a dream world, and as soon as she was thrust into the real one with all its harsh practicalities, Mary’s ambitions had taken a bit of a back seat. Only now, five years later, was she starting to think about maybe living her dreams again and trying for a shot at stardom. She’d seen the way others had got on in these kinds of shows: record deals, TV appearances, interviews, people clamoring to get their autographs. That was what she wanted for herself, what she’d always wanted. And some of them didn’t have half as much talent as her, which wasn’t a bigheaded or jealousy thing at all––just a fact. Mary had a lovely voice… that is she’d had a lovely voice until today. Now she wasn’t so sure.
Now she was worried.
While she’d been busy worrying and singing, the train had pulled into the station: a long blue and yellow streak of metal that ground to a hissing halt a few meters away from her.
If you’re not careful, you really will miss it, she said to herself and ran towards the opening doors. The auditions weren’t that far away, a couple of stops down the line, but if she missed the train there was no way she’d get there by any other means.
Singing under her breath again, Mary boarded the nearest carriage.
Taurus (represented by the bull): Taurus people are the kind of people you can really count on in a crisis. They rarely lose their cool and allow themselves plenty of time to accomplish tasks. They are often scared to try new things or go in new directions because they are frightened of what they might lose in the process if they fail. However, those that do take the odd risk occasionally find it sometimes pays off. Your typical Taurean will work at things inch by inch, sometimes taking quite a while to get projects off the ground. They make loyal, loving and steadfast friends, but they have a small group of long standing buddies rather than a large group of casual acquaintances. They are dependable and practical and love to own their own place if they can, because of the sense of stability it gives them. One of the most good looking of all the signs, careers in the modeling or beauty industry are a good choice, or even some kind of performance work as Taureans tend to possess extremely nice voices.
The voice was talking to him again.
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“Go on, get fucking moving then.”
Jez Bingley climbed on board the train, looking to his left and his right.
“Now why don’t you find a seat and sit down,” it said to him. “We have to gather our thoughts.”
Jez did as he was told. It was easier that way, he found. He pressed the button on the doors to his left. They hissed open and allowed him entrance to carriage C. There was a two-seater space just next to him, so he took off his coat and placed it on the window seat. Then he settled down in the red velvet of the outer seat. Jez stared at the plastic tray in front of him, held up by a little wheel on the back of the chair. He twisted the wheel and the tray dropped down on his lap.
“Fuck me, what are you doing now?” said the voice. “Just leave it alone. Go on, do as you’re told.”
Jez put the tray back and secured it with the wheel. His eyes caught the upright black armrest by the side of him, but he didn’t bring it down.
“No, you can leave that alone as well,” said the voice, reading his mind… which wasn’t that difficult really because it was a product of that very same cerebellum. Some small part of Jez knew this, or thought he did. All those hours of talking to the people at the hospital as a boy, all the sessions explaining about the voice and the doctors who had told him it was just a case of misfiring neurons in his brain, just a figment of his imagination they could adjust. And the medication had worked; did its job and quietened the voice, his other half, his alter ego. They’d dulled, muffled and subdued it. But it hadn’t stayed away forever. Eventually the voice had started talking to him again. Only softly at first, but persuasive, same as always. The first thing it told him to do was keep quiet this time, not let anybody know. Then they could have some real fun, the voice had promised. “You’ll see.”
