‘I’ve found it, ha! ...in this false shoe!!’
‘What? Let’s have a look. Wow! Did you know about the shoe?’
‘No, it was just a hunch!!’
‘Bloody inspired hunch, Stanton! Here, let’s have a look at those shoes.’
Cube studied the shoes and Alex studied the speed.
‘Geoff must be a secret agent,’ remarked Cube, still admiring the shoes.
‘I was thinking the same thing myself,’ replied Alex.
‘Whoa!’ exclaimed Cube, suddenly. ‘There’s a cat in here!’
Alex looked up.
‘It’s gone,’ said Cube, ‘zipped out the door as soon as I spotted it. Could have sworn it was Gil.’
‘Impossible,’ stated Alex, returning his attention to the speed.
‘How is it – is there enough?’ asked Cube.
‘More than enough – let’s hit The Shed.’
Alex and Cube charged out of Geoff’s flat and raced into the night.
Dai, Karl and Lee were loitering at the venue’s entrance, smoking cigarettes and looking shifty. The Shed, a converted wine bar offered a more intimate musical experience than the bigger, but more acoustically-challenged, main hall of the union building. It was also a lot easier to fill. Not that it was anywhere near capacity tonight. The Odin Brinkley Announcement were one of those bands that frequently attracted interest from the music press, but their fan base was minute.
‘Need any help getting in?’ asked Alex, reaching for his union pass.
‘You kidding?’ snorted Karl. ‘Look at the place. They’re letting people in for free! How much did you pay for your tickets? You saps!’
Alex bridled. All the alcohol and all the running around town had got his adrenalin surging; he really wanted to start a ruckus with Karl but this was not a night for fighting, he had a job to do. He also didn’t fancy his chances if Lee got involved.
Alex glared at Karl but said nothing, he eventually lowered his gaze. Karl smirked and, surprisingly, offered Alex a cigarette and then lit it for him. He offered one to Cube, who declined.
There followed an awkward silence that Dai seemed to find intriguing; he regarded Alex and Cube closely, regularly glancing from one to the other.
There were perhaps less than thirty people inside The Shed, a rather disappointing showing, even for this place. Alex headed for the bar as the others took seats at one of the tables near the stage.
‘Five pints of Guinness, John.’
‘Guinness? If you’re turning ethnic for the gig, you’ve got the wrong Celts, mate.’
There was no point in explaining it. ‘Just pour the drinks.’
Alex glanced back over his shoulder: Cube and Dai were in conversation; Karl and Lee listened in, but kept silent. Nobody was laughing. Strange. The discussion seemed quite intense...
Dai glanced over and locked eye contact.
Still no smiles. Still strange.
Alex checked on the progress of the drinks: about halfway. He resisted the urge to turn around again, convinced that Dai would still be watching... The guy certainly gave him the creeps: he was too watchful, and too knowing... But he couldn’t know what was in store for him now, could he?
The drinks were finally made ready and Alex carried them back to his party.
‘So, Alex, what’s your Welsh ancestry?’ Asked Dai, taking a long swig from his drink that left behind a foam moustache.
Alex was somewhat taken aback to be addressed by his own name. ‘My mother, same as Cube.’
‘Really? Your friend’s just been explaining how his father is the Welsh one.’ Dai eyed him, eyebrow raised. ‘You’ve not quite been straight with us, have you?’
Alex blanched. ‘What you talking about!?’
Dai removed a smartphone from his pocket and brandished it at Alex. ‘Once you two had left the pub we got to thinking. It seemed kinda odd that you would just show up at the Centipede and then offer me a ticket to a gig straight away. So I looked into it. Turns out you’ve both been actively trying to find me! What gives?’
Alex nervously eyed Cube who slowly shook his head.
‘Well, you know, we had the extra ticket, and–’
‘Save it, Alex, that doesn’t quite add up... I know the score.’
‘You do?’
‘Yeah! You’ve heard the reputation of these gigs and you thought it would be safest to tag along with a well-known taffy and pretend to be Welsh yourselves, in case things kicked off.’
Alex regarded the venue’s few dozen punters, most of whom were students he knew by name. The suggestion that he would need Dai’s ‘protection’ was frankly laughable, but he’d have to go with this line, even if it was somewhat demeaning. ‘Well, yeah. It was Cube here who thought we should hook up with you.’
‘That right, shape?’ Dai suddenly grabbed Cube and held him in a headlock. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll look after you!’
Alex continued to run with Dai’s theory: ‘There was trouble in Manchester, so we figured...’ He allowed his words to trail off, hoping that enough had been said.
Dai released Cube’s head and gave Alex a knowing nod. He then glanced at the stage and around the venue: ‘Where’s the band got to, they’re late?’
‘Alex, you got that speed?’ asked Lee, with a wink.
‘Sure, we should hit the bogs. Karl?’
‘Yeah, now’s a good time.’
‘Dai?’
Dai eyed Alex for a few seconds. ‘No, I think I’ll pass.’
‘Suit yourself.’
Alex hid his frustration and led Cube, Lee and Karl to the toilets; a few minutes later, Cube and the others speedily rejoined Dai, but Alex decided to hang back for a while and consider his options...
How to get Dai to snort some ‘speed’..? He clearly wasn’t keen on the idea and he seemed to be growing suspicious. For a self-absorbed drunken derelict he displayed a remarkable knack for reading people and/or situations. God only knew how, or why – but Dai was smelling a rat.
What was it about Dai..?
Three guitarists, a drummer, an accordion player, a violinist, another violinist, and an ostentatiously inebriated vocalist (Wayne), burst onto the stage in the blink-of-an-eye and immediately commenced the first of their ultra-high-energy sessions. The Odin Brinkley Announcement were good. Natural musicians, all of them, they all handled their instruments like they were extensions to their limbs. Except for Wayne: Odin Brinkley, whoever he was, might have been disappointed to hear that his “announcement” wasn’t quite being conveyed. Wayne mumbled his words incoherently, but at least he mumbled them in tune.
Cube, Karl and Lee, all rushing on speed, jumped up and gyrated away at the front. Alex – straight – remained in his seat, as did Dai.
Was Dai enjoying the gig? Alex glanced over...
Dai was watching him. He smiled.
Jesus, the son-of-a-bitch knew! He fucking knew!!
23
As Above, So Below Page 28
