Gothic

by Steve Hester

CHAPTER 10

  The day was dragging. Rob was sat on the cold tiled floor behind the counter in Gamer 7 with a tin tray on his lap full of game discs in plastic sleeves. Behind him was a slanted counter full of similar empty trays, each sitting in slats in the wood, and above that a light box with a large poster showing off one of the deals the store had on at the moment.

  It was a pointless deal about trading your games to get a new release for only five pounds. Oh it was great as the game in question was forty five pounds brand new and had only been out about two weeks but the terms and conditions were so vague that the 'trade in any three games' had meant a sudden influx in titles about five years old meaning the company was taking a HUGE loss with each trade in.

  The fact that no one was checking the flow of trade-ins had meant that Rob and Jason had been sneakily buying older titles cheaply from elsewhere, trading them in and then taking the new game somewhere else for the money. So far Rob was about two goes away from getting a new mobile phone.

  He hummed along to the music being fed through the stores hidden speakers from his MP3 player in the back and busied himself with his filing. It wasn't a particularly interesting way to spend the day but it meant that he didn't have to deal with the customers. Dealing with the public made up most of his job and he didn't mind it a lot of the time but today wasn't one of them. There was the repetition of enquiries, the unruly children, the uninformed seniors and mostly the fact that the people with the money usually had no idea what the hell they were asking for.

  The monotony of filing discs away was offset very nicely by the joy of being out of the public’s eye line. Unfortunately, despite Rob dragging it out, the tray he had in his lap was nearly empty and very soon he'd have to get back to the real world. Jason's hand snaked into his view and grabbed a bag from the pile in the recess next to Rob. There was a rattle of paper as he shook it open, put the customers purchase in it and handed it across the counter.

  The conversation had pin-balled from topic to topic all morning and had now settled on the familiar subject of the Star Wars films. There were the usual complaints about the new films being poor and the praise for the old ones and dotted in-between the random observations that people with far too much time on their hands make over fictional universes.

  “...And then there are the trenches!” said Jason. “They're a health and safety nightmare.”

  “Wait, what trenches? And why have you been spending so long thinking about this?” said Rob from the floor.

  Jason shrugged. He picked up a game case and started to spin it in his hands.

  “I dunno. It's just always bugged me. There's those guys who stood near the big barrel bit when the Death Star's gun goes off and they're stood on the edge of a massive trench! It’s a good hundred, maybe hundred and fifty feet deep and there's no safety rail. They don't have any harnesses on either. It’s a health and safety nightmare.”

  He spun the case again and put it back with the rest of them.

  “So the fact that they're a fascist regime bent on the enslavement and totalitarian control of an entire galaxy doesn't bother you but a couple of guys not having a safety rail winds you up?” said Rob.

  Jason perched himself on the low silver counter at one end of the tills.

  “Never said it didn't bother me, just think these are the little details that get overlooked.”

  The song over the speakers changed. Out on the shop floor Neil looked up from filling the flickers and shouted across to them.

  “Guys? Might want to skip this one!”

  Rob and Jason listened for a second before realising. Jason was closest to the door and he bolted through it, grabbing the iPod from its resting place on a table just behind.

  “You wanna take this on?” The singer shouted over the speakers. “You can't handle this, all you motherfu..!”

  There was a click and the next song came on. Jason poked his head round the door.

  “Thought you'd deleted that one?” He said

  “Nope” said Rob. “Never got round to changing my playlist.”

  Jason shrugged and went back out taking his seat again on the counter as Rob joined him.

  “We set for tonight then?” said Rob. Jason grinned at him.

  “Oooooh yes! What time you getting there?”

  “Well I need to run home first and get changed,” said Rob “maybe pop to Tesco and get some beer on the way then I'll come over. Should be there at about half six or so.”

  He turned back and shouted across the store.

  “Neil! You still not coming tonight?”

  “No, sorry mate!” He said scuttling over as if his skinny jeans were trying to change his sex by cutting off the blood supply to his crotch. “Father in law lands at about six, need to go pick him up and then we're going out for a meal.”

  “Bad timing isn't it?” said Jason.

  “Yeah, it is a bit or I'd be over.”

  “Well in that case it just looks like me and thee!” said Rob. He looked at Jason out of the corner of his eye. “Or is Lindsay coming?”

  Jason grinned and swung his feet as various images flashed in his mind.

  “Oh I'd do hope so! I've got plans!”

  “Oh dear!” said Neil before wondering back onto the shop floor.

  “So what is this great plan of yours?” said Rob. “Going to get her smashed and try it on? Don't do it the other way round though because we all know what happens when you drink don’t we, Mr. Floppy?”

  “I don't know what you mean! Anyway it was only the once and I'd had enough booze to kill a blue whale.”

  “Well you can't use your charming personality because you ain't got one!”

  Jason stood up and puffed his chest out. “What you sayin'? I've got a magnetic personality me! Women can't help themselves; I have to beat them off with a stick!”

  “You beat yourself off and you know it! Oh bugger...”

  He was looking out onto the shop floor. Standing in the middle of the store was a shambling mess of a man of indeterminate age. He could have been anywhere between his mid-twenties or early forties, it was hard to tell under the stained clothing and ragged beard. He was breathing heavily through his half open mouth and it could be heard as far as the counter. It was hard to see how he was out of breath though as he ambled with the slow determined speed of a glacier past the flickers. Pudgy cheeks stained with dirt poked out of the facial hair under little piggy eyes.

  The look was completed by The Gut and it was a gut that was totally deserving of the capital letters. It hung over the waistband of the faded pair of grey jogging bottoms and gave the man the look of someone who was pregnant with sextuplets. His t-shirt didn't cover it properly so it poked out of the bottom like a hairy tumour.

  He was a regular. He was also a chatterer. Rob felt sorry for the guy, he really did. To let yourself go like that was depressing and the guy didn't seem like the sharpest knife in the drawer when you spoke to him. You got the impression that he didn't really have many friends, if any, so he took what little human contact he could get.

  Rob could understand that part and even sympathise with him but it didn't help his cause that he also stank. It was a strong smell of month old body odour under clothes that hadn't been cleaned for about a year. It started to waft over to the counter.

  “He can spend forty pounds on a game,” whispered Jason, “but he can't spend a couple of quid on a bar of soap and some deodorant.”

  “Poor sod.”

  The man settled on the games in his hands and started to waddle towards the counter.

  “Well,” said Jason “he's all yours!”

  Rob spun round as Jason made his way towards the door to the back.

  “Where are you going?”

  Jason held up his wrist.

  “It's three o'clock mate! I'm going home!” And with that he vanished.

  Rob turned just as the man reached the counter. He gave Rob a smile showing off his bad teeth and over his shoulder Rob could
see Neil ducking down out of the way behind one of the flickers. He took a deep breath and held it hoping the man wouldn't notice.

  …

  Rob's car sputtered into his drive and he turned off the engine. The sun was slowly setting over the houses behind him and a chilly breeze whipped at his hair as he got out. Amy was closing the front room curtains. She waved and he waved back before he took his satchel out, locked up the car and went inside the house.

  Bob was sitting at the dinner table in the dining room as always. He was a builder by trade and had his own company. Like a lot of similar firms the recession hadn't been kind but he at least had kept his head above water while watching several other local builders throw in the towel. He was even employing some of them now.

  It can normally be said that the one house builders won’t work on is their own but Bob wasn't like that. Well, more to the point Amy wouldn’t let him be like that. She had a gentle way of prodding people to do something that needed to be done that she could keep going for weeks, even months if she wanted to.

  The house was immaculate and she was very proud of it. For his part Bob was just glad to avoid the earache so he'd brought some of his best lads in several years ago and gone through the house from top to bottom. Downstairs was now mostly open plan with the lounge connecting onto the dining room via a large archway that had been cut out of one of the walls.

  While his wife ruled the rest of the house, the dining room was Bob's domain though. It was there he did his paperwork, planned out jobs and sometimes just read the paper. Growing up the one image of his father that Rob had in his mind was of him sitting by the patio doors reading some bit of paper or another and drinking tea.

  Why was he looking so dressed up tonight though? He wondered. His dad normally came in and got showered right away but after that it was straight on with his comfy clothes. Tonight he was looking quite dapper!

  Amy straightened up a cushion and gave Rob a peck on the cheek.

  “You had a good day at work love?”

  He took his coat off and hung it on the coat rack in the hall.

  “Not bad. Bit long and dull though.” He looked around. “Where's the dog?”

  “In the back yard having her dinner.” she said with a smile

  Amy bustled off towards the kitchen. The smell of something juicy and meaty floated through the open doorway making Rob's stomach growl. His dad looked up from his paper, chewing the last of a small bread roll.

  “You're off out to Jason's tonight aren't you? Housewarming isn't it?”

  “Aye, that's right dad. Looking forward to it! Just don't expect me home!”

  “Oh.” said Bob. “One of them is it?”

  He gave his son a wink. Rob grinned a little and sat down with him.

  “Maybe, if I'm lucky!” He winked back.

  The two of them were chuckling to themselves when Amy came back in. She was holding a sandwich on a plate. It was the kind of sandwich that could never be considered a snack. Full meals would run out if it's way if they saw it coming and if it ever found its way onto a menu the word 'challenge' would be in its description somewhere. She put it down in front of her husband and watched as his eyes widened in anticipation.

  “Ooh! Would you look at that!!” said Bob. “Dunno where to start with it!”

  He waved his hands round one side and the other before deciding on the best approach to tackle the behemoth.

  “Oh for god’s sake, use a napkin; you'll get it all over you!” said Amy grabbing one off the table and stuffing down the front of Bob's collar. As if firing off a warning shot, a large slice of pork covered in a sweet sauce plopped out of the sandwich and onto the plate.

  “Surry” mumbled Bob though a mouthful.

  “You want one too love?”

  Rob realised he was staring at the sandwich. He wasn't really hungry and there would be snacks of some description later. Better not he thought.

  “Yes please mum!” said his mouth completely overriding his brain.

  She vanished off back into the kitchen.

  “Sure we can't convince you to come to the Palace with us tonight?” She said through the doorway.

  Ah! Yes! That's why dads in that get up! He thought.

  “Heh, no thanks mum. Beauty and the Beast isn't the same without Jessica Fletcher warbling about in the background.”

  Bob put down the sandwich and took a drink from his tea.

  “Oh well! Suit yerself lad! We'll enjoy it won't we love?”

  “It's the youth of today,” said Amy from the kitchen “if it doesn't come out of a bottle, they don't want to know.”

  “Or several.” said Rob catching his dad's eye.

  Amy walked back in with two more plates and set one down in front of Rob before sitting down.

  “So much for a bit of fairy tale romance then, it’ll just have to be you and me!” She said.

  “Aye!” Said Bob and he reached out and took her hand in his.

  Rob paused with the sandwich in his mouth as he watched to two of them stare into each other's eyes before his parents started singing, happily collaborating in the worst duet of all time.

  After the last note had ended they both started to flutter their eyelashes at each other before turning to Rob who couldn't help but laugh.

  “Yer mental, the pair of you!”

  He stood up and went into the kitchen.

  “I'm going to get a drink then I'll eat this upstairs.”

  “All right love. Just don't forget-”

  “-To bring the plate down, yes I will. You two enjoy yourselves tonight but please don't sing any more dad! Don't want Mr. Bowyer from next door complaining again!”

  “Cheeky beggar!” Said Bob as his son disappeared. “I've got a lovely singing voice I have, haven't I love?”

  Amy stared at him with a deadpan expression. She passed a basket towards him.

  “Have another bread roll dear.”

  He took one and shook his head.

  “I swear I don't get this much abuse when I'm on the site!”

  Rob came back in opening a can of orange. He grabbed a couple of napkins and then kissed them both on the cheek before picking up his plate.

  “You two have a good night won't you?” He said.

  “You too sweetheart.” Said Amy. “And promise me you won't get too drunk!”

  Rob slung his satchel back over his shoulder and headed to the stairs.

  “Sorry mum, I'm promising nothing!”

  They listened to his feet go up the stairs. Amy turned to her husband.

  “Well he doesn't get it from my side!”

  Bob raised an eyebrow and passed the basket back across.

  “Well... maybe Aunty Tina.” She said.

  Rob stepped out of the shower and wrapped a large, fluffy green towel around his waist. The music from his stereo was still going and he bounced into the room, quickly drying himself off and getting dressed. He was muttering to himself.

  “A bit of deodorant... Yes, and now a bit of.... Hmmm... Armani? Am I in an Armani mood or should I..? Nah, I'll put a bit of the 007 on.”

  He picked up a bottle of aftershave from a collection on his dresser and squirted a few sprays across his face and chest. He spent about ten minutes choosing the right top from his wardrobe and settled on a very modern “vintage” t-shirt. He slipped on a pair of high top trainers and looked at himself in the mirror on the back of his door.

  “You is well fit!” He said slipping on a fake accent. He paused admiring his reflection for a minute or two before he grabbed his hoodie from the wardrobe and flung it on.

  He was almost out of the bedroom door before he remembered his phone that was charging. As he turned to grab it he caught a glint out of the corner of his eye. Something small and shiny was winking at him from under the tallboy chest of drawers he had his TV on.

  He felt a small tingling feeling go up his arm as he picked it up. It was a chain with an odd, cross-shaped pendant on it. He knew he'd never
seen it before in his life but there was something very familiar about it. It spoke to a small part of his brain, a very old part that almost seemed to have evolved much differently to the rest of it and he was only just now aware of. It was telling him that this was important, that things would change.

  The modern part of his brain smothered the thoughts. As far as that part of the brain was concerned it had just found a nice silver pendant and chain that it didn't knew it had! Bonus!

  He put it in his pocket and turned out the light, completely forgetting about the plate on his bedside table.

  Tonight's going to be a good night! He thought.