Chris Simms - Killing the Beasts

'So how long are we going to be confined to the spare toilet and shower in the attic conversion?'

'They'll be about another eight days. I reckon less — you should have seen how fast they ripped everything out.'

I bet, thought Tom. Probably sold it on to a reclaimer's yard already. Wrinkling his nose, Tom looked critically round the room, spotting the big ashtray from the dining room by a paint-splattered radio. It was brimming with the crumpled ends of roll-ups. Regarding the evidence of unfamiliar men in his house, Tom felt somehow that his territory had been violated. 'Jesus, how many of them are on the job?'

'Four or five. I think another one joined them this afternoon.'

Tom didn't want to know how much it was costing him. He stepped towards the ashtray. 'Did you have to let them smoke in the house? The whole place stinks of those rancid roll-ups.' He knew he was goading her.

'Oh stop bloody moaning, for God's sake,' Charlotte replied, voice midway to anger. He had a bit of leeway yet.

Then he noticed the lumps of chewing gum amongst the butts. His attempt at winding her up was suddenly forgotten as he turned away in disgust. He waved a hand towards it. 'For fuck's sake, that's a crystal ashtray. They've stuck their bloody chewing gum in it.' He clamped a hand over his mouth.

That did it. Charlotte stepped up to him, one finger angrily jabbing the air. 'Can't you be happy that I'm trying to improve our house? God, if it was left to you we'd still have exactly the same hallway carpets as when we moved in. And what is it with this aversion you've developed? Ever since the Seychelles, the slightest thing makes you start retching. You should see a bloody doctor,' she snapped, striding angrily out of the room.

He walked after her. 'Actually, it's just… just stuff that's been chewed, that's been in other people's mouths. I think…' He stopped speaking, realizing this revelation only opened him up further.

Sure enough, Charlotte paused in the doorway to their bedroom.' Do you realize how much of a freak that makes you sound?'

Tom knew he wasn't going to win this one. It was time to retreat. 'Where are we going out?'

Charlotte's shoulders relaxed a little. 'Our table at The Restaurant Bar and Grill is booked for eight thirty. Doors to Chilli Pete's open at ten, I think.'

Tom glanced at his watch. That gave him forty-five minutes to get ready.

Then Charlotte added in a much sweeter voice, 'Can you give that Brain a ring? See what he's got. I don't fancy any of that skaggy speed again.'

There was the signal: if he rang Brain their tiff would be over. If getting more drugs would put her in a better mood, he was prepared to do it. It might even lead to other stuff later, he thought, trying to remember the last time they'd had sex. 'Sure, we can call by on the way into town. I don't mind driving tonight.'

Argument won, she blew a kiss over her shoulder and disappeared into the bedroom.

Downstairs, he switched on the computer. While it booted up, he gave Brain a ring.

'Hello.' A voice box sounding like it had been rubbed with a cheese grater. 'Brain, it's Tom. Any chance of stopping by in about an hour?'

'Good timing Tom, shopping's just arrived.'

'Excellent. 'Tom smiled. 'See you in a bit.'

He hung up and then went on to the internet. Clicking on the Cornwall Guide, he checked that the cafe on Harbour Road was still for sale. Finding that the little thumbnail photo and description of the property were still posted on the site, he directed a silent thank you to the heavens, then went upstairs to get changed.

Tom found a parking space on the street along from Chilli Pete's. Turning off the engine, he looked across to his wife. Spread across her lap was a selection of pills and powders.

'E?' she said, holding up a pill.

'Don't mind if I do,' he replied, popping it into his mouth and knocking it back with a swig of mineral water.

Charlotte took two and he passed the small plastic bottle to her. 'Right, let's leave the coke for the weekend.' She put the wrap of paper back in the glove compartment. 'What was this stuff again? I can never understand his sandpaper voice.' She held up a plastic sachet with a self-sealing top.

'He said it's something he brewed up himself. Like GBH, but it gives you a much cleaner lift. And a lot stronger, too. He said to just take a tiny dab.'

'Sounds intriguing,' Charlotte replied, slipping it into her push-up bra. 'I might try a bit later.'

Returning the rest of the ecstasy tablets to the glove compartment, they got out of the car and walked to the club's entrance. After a cursory search at the doors, they headed down the stairs and into a dimly lit lounge area. Huge brown leather sofas and armchairs were arranged in pods around low glass tables lit from below by single soft bulbs. Round the corner the dance floor pulsed with intricate laser effects as some sort of trance track slowly built up momentum.

'What are you having?' asked Tom as Charlotte nabbed a corner armchair.

'Just water,' she replied, reaching for her cigarettes.

Tom made his way across the half-full lounge area to the bar and ordered a bottle of mineral water and a bottle of Tiger beer. Back at their seats he slumped down and lit a cigarette. Charlotte was leaning sideways in the seat, legs crossed just above the knee, one elbow on the wide handrest. With a cigarette held just in front of her lips, she surveyed the room, eagerly examining what everyone else was wearing.

After a while Tom began to sense waves of energy emanating from his chest. They spread to his arms and legs, infusing them with urgency. The music suddenly seemed to connect with him on a much deeper level. 'You coming up yet?' he asked Charlotte, realizing that the question wasn't needed when he saw how fast her knees were jiggling.

She turned to him, eyes bright. 'You dancing?' she said in a mock northern accent.

'Why, you asking?' Both of them laughed and jumped to their feet.

They stayed on the dance floor for almost an hour solid, just letting each successive song carry them along, swaying and grinding until a change of tempo or a burst of vocals lifted them up and set off another burst of energetic dancing. Eventually they took a break, breathlessly sharing a bottle of water at the side of the dance floor, Tom holding the cool plastic against his forehead before gulping down his half. Using his body as a shield, Charlotte slipped the plastic pouch from her bra and opened it up. 'Fancy any?' she asked, glancing down at what was subtly cupped in her hand.

'No, cheers — I'll just see this E through,' answered Tom, head nodding away.

Charlotte licked a finger then dipped it into the bag. It came out coated in a sherbet-like powder and she popped it into her mouth, washing it clean with her tongue. 'Another for luck,' she said with a mischievous smile, licking her finger and dipping it in again.

Back out on the dance floor the music was picking up, people were starting to shout in appreciation, glow sticks had started to appear and the mass of bodies moved with more purpose, the crowd sensing the next phase of music was going to build and build.

As usual Charlotte had quickly manoeuvred her way into the middle of the dance floor. Her hair was tied back in a long ponytail and as her body pulsed back and forth she started sweeping her head from side to side, the blonde mane flicking against those around her, causing several people to turn and watch. Tom was just clicking into his usual routine — hovering slightly to her side, just close enough to let the other men in the vicinity know they were together — when Charlotte lurched against him.

Instinctively he grabbed her waist to steady her, but next thing her legs folded and she crashed to the floor. Those in the immediate vicinity stepped back, but other people, unable to see that someone was down, carried on dancing, bumping into the stationary people. Moving quickly before someone fell over her, Tom hooked his hands under her armpits and hauled her upright. Someone helped him to carry her off the dance floor and place her in a chair at the back of the lounge area.