I had absolutely no wish to go to the bloody Halloween party with Max.
What the fuck did he think he was doing mixing with those weirdo Goths who hung
around outside the empty church at the end of the road every night? The sooner
a developer bought the place and turned it into flats, the better as far as I
was concerned. They gave me the creeps with their white faces and black eyes,
their chains and clanking boots, not to mention the Kensington Gore they
painted around their lips to make believe they drank blood. Didn’t they have
real lives?
Parties are not my thing at the best of times. I
prefer to be alone, or with my boyfriend – when I have one. Things hadn’t been
going too well in the romance department when Max called me up out of the blue
and asked me to go along. “Hey, Rick! I’m having a party tonight. Come and join
us will you?”
My relationship with Max had ended six months
previously but we remained on good terms. If he hadn’t tried to keep me in the
dark about his fuck with the pizza delivery boy the night I got stuck in the
elevator at Tufnell Park underground station, I think we may well have made a
go of it. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not a prude and I don’t place much importance
on monogamy in a relationship. If the London Transport engineers had freed me
from my suspended prison thirty minutes sooner, if I’d got home and caught Max
up to the balls in the owner of the scooter that I would have seen parked on
the path outside, I would no doubt have dropped my pants and fucked the guy’s
face at the same time. But Max chose to lie. And that I can’t accept.
“What sort of a party?” I asked, unable to think of a
suitable excuse fast enough.
“Jesus, Rick. What are you on, man? Like, what is
tonight?”
I stared out of the window. “Dark?”
Max spluttered. “You need to get out more, you know
that? It’s fucking Halloween.”
“Ah, then it would be dark at this time.” I glanced at
my watch. Almost eight.
“So, are you coming?”
I should have said no, but perhaps the darkening
nights and falling temperatures had begun to turn solitude into a feeling of
isolation. And believe me, it is possible to be very isolated in a big city.
“Okay, then. But just for an hour or so. I have things to do.”
“You don’t have anything to do tonight or you’d have
told me as soon as I asked. I’ll drop by and collect you in about half an hour.
And please, try to be ready, man.”
He sighed as he hung up before I could reply, no doubt
to stop me from dreaming up a last minute objection.
I heard Max pull up in the street below my kitchen window, the silencer
on his ageing sports car still as full of holes as ever. I grabbed my leather
jacket and skipped down the stairs. When I pulled the front door open I leaped
back in shock. Max stood on the doorstep, his face ghost-white and his eye
teeth had grown several inches.
“Trick or treat?” His fangs dislodged as he laughed,
and he caught them with a swift movement, trapping them against his black
leather coat.
“Fuck off!” I tried not appear flustered and pushed
him out of the doorway.
“Charming.”
“Yes, you look it.” I locked the door and zipped the
key safely in my breast pocket. “You’re driving, I assume?”
“No need, man. We’re only going to the end of the
street.”
“We’re only going…” My words dried up as the
implication of what he’d said dawned on me. “Oh, no! Not bloody likely.”
Max threw an arm round my shoulders and started
walking. “I couldn’t refuse, could I? My flat is quite small and they’ve got a whole fucking church to themselves.”
I tried to resist but he was stronger than me and the
force moved me forwards with him. “You mean they’ve actually broken inside now?
But that’s criminal.”
He laughed. “Don’t be such a wimp. It’ll be really
cool, partying in a church on Halloween. You need to let your hair down and
enjoy yourself. You’re
David Stuckler Sanjay Basu
Aiden James, Patrick Burdine