Part 4 (1/2)

Howard braced himself.

”Mr. Phillips are you there?” came a confident male voice from behind the door.

Howard snapped out of panic mode instantly as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice cold water across him.

”Who is it?” asked Howard trying his best to sound equally confident.

”It's the police Mr. Phillips, you called us regarding a gang of people trying to break into your flat. Are you ok?”

That was the very question Howard was asking himself, he really didn't think he was.

”Yes, yes I'm fine,” replied Howard doing his best to sound as confident as the voice coming from behind the door. ”I will be down in just a moment.” Howard quickly set about returning the cutlery he had collected to the kitchen and retrieving his clothes from the stair well before opening the door to the very impatient looking police officer.

”Thank you for coming,” said Howard craning his head around the door and looking perplexed into the very empty shop. ”did you not see anyone when you can in?”

”No sir,” replied the officer ”the shop was completely empty. Do you mind tell us what has happened sir?”

Howard raised his hand to his face and pressed his eyes. ”Before you came, the shop was full of people dressed in hoods, I tried to escape out the back, but there was more in the lane, so I came back in and went up to my flat to hide. That's when I called you guys. If they weren't here then I think I may well be going mad.

”Ok sir, can I ask whether you have taken anything today?

”No, not at all.” Replied Howard.

”Have you had anything to drink?”

”Nothing.” Replied Howard.

”are you currently on medication for anything sir?”

”No officer, but I'm beginning to think I should be. I swear to you they were here.”

”Ok, thank you sir. I have your description here if I could just quickly run it pa.s.sed you. You claim that the shop and lane were occupied by a group of tall people all dressed in the same dark rain coat with hoods up, no visible faces and yellow eyes.”

”Look, I know how it sounds, I really do. But I swear to you I have not taken anything, not drunk anything and they were b.l.o.o.d.y there. They were hammering on this door just before you knocked on it.”

”Sir, we did not see anyone when we arrived, but I have your description and will obviously keep an eye out in the area for anyone meeting your description. If that is all sir, I will be on my way.”

”Yes of course officer, thank you ever so much for coming out, sorry to have wasted your time.”

”Not a problem sir, please do call us if they make a reappearance, have good day.” Replied the officer and her turned and walked out of the shop.

Howard ran upstairs as quick as her could, located his coat, phone and wallet and dashed back down into the shop. He decided to close up for the rest of the day and that a stiff drink was exactly what he needed.

Chapter 17.

Stevens stopped the DVD with a gloved hand, the dead lay waiting.

Chapter 18.

Thomas arrived home to an empty flat. The living room was depressing, a complete bomb site with just a tiny bit of non-cluttered s.p.a.ce on the sofa which looked suspiciously like a human figure. Thomas thought that it was as if the room was a giant jigsaw and someone had just reached in and grabbed out the piece with Larry on.

Thomas needed a drink. He tip toed his way through the Larry created wreckage and into the kitchen, opened the fridge, located an expensive looking imported German lager and began. The beers actually belonged to Larry, but Thomas figured that he would replace them in the morning. It wasn't as if he had to be in work.

Thomas thought about how he was going to tell people. 'How will they react? Will they believe me? Surely they will.' It was fair to say that Thomas was experiencing a complete mix of emotions. Part of him felt furious at the position he was in, this little s.h.i.+t had framed him and put his whole career in jeopardy. Another part of him was scared, Thomas had never been in trouble before, not even a detention for handing in a late homework when he was in school. He was a 'by-the-book' kind of guy who always played by the rules. He had never been in a situation like this before. Thomas felt helpless, this was well and truly out of his hands. He was waiting for someone to make a decision based upon evidence that was false and there was nothing he could do about it except wait and drink. He cracked open the second can, retreated to the lounge, created a s.p.a.ce and set about trying to achieve a state of mental oblivion. He would tell the world tomorrow.

It was 12:38am when Thomas found himself being roughly shaken awake by Larry.

”Are you all right mate?” asked a very concerned Larry. In all the time they had lived together, he had never seen Thomas in a state like this. Thomas was sprawled out across the settee surrounded by a variety of cans. He was clutching a can of Guinness which he seemed to have poured all over himself and the dark patch on his groin was all the evidence that Larry needed to confirm that Thomas's mission to achieve metal oblivion was indeed a terrific success. Thomas's eyes flickered open.

”Are you alright mate?” asked Larry again. ”Let me give you a hand to bed fella.”

Thomas opened his eyes fully, smacked his lips, dropped the can of Guinness on the floor and began trying to sit himself upright.

”Jeez man what a f.u.c.king day man. I'm f.u.c.ked Larry, f.u.c.ked.” Slurred Thomas.

”I can see that you t.w.a.t, but why have you got yourself in such a state, has something happened. You and Janet haven't broken up have you?” replied Larry.

”Nah man, nah. Not yet anyway, but soon probably though, I'm f.u.c.ked mate. It's all gone.”

What's all gone? You're not making much sense fella, what has happened.”

”The kids man, they f.u.c.king turn on you you know, f.u.c.king no loyalty no more. No loyalty. You f.u.c.king give and plan and give, but for what man, for it to be f.u.c.king robbed off you from some little lying little f.u.c.king gobs.h.i.+te. I'm f.u.c.ked man, I've f.u.c.king as good as lost my f.u.c.king job.”

”s.h.i.+t fella, what the f.u.c.k has happened?”

”Ahh, little f.u.c.ker has lied man, he has f.u.c.king just gone ahead and f.u.c.king lied. Says all sorts of s.h.i.+t and accused me. He has accused me with his lying little chavy mouth. Its lies though, lies I can do nothing about. Says I hit him, says I called him all sorts of s.h.i.+t. Horrible, horrible little f.u.c.king s.h.i.+t man, I'm f.u.c.ked.”

With that, Thomas stood up on very unsteady legs and began forging his way through the sea of cans towards his bedroom.

”Sleep well man, I will work from home tomorrow so we can chat when you sober up.”

Thomas woke up with the worst hangover of his life. It was so bad that he really felt as if he had done himself some serious damage. His vision was still blurred and any kind of movement was painful. He reached out to his left and retrieved the waste paper bin that lived on the floor and proceeded to throw up. The first vomit was dark black in colour as the Guinness which had refused to enter his stomach the previous evening gushed out, next a mixture of straw liquid and bile followed by fresh air.

Thomas continued to retch air as Larry walked in to see how his flat mate was coping with what he knew would be a catastrophic hangover.

”How's the head buddy? You look dreadful!”

”Cheers,” Replied Thomas in between retches. ”Kill me now!” Thomas mustered an embarra.s.sed smile. ”Noticed I p.i.s.sed myself too, which is nice. Give me half an hour to have a shower and I will tell you all about my day of misery.”

Larry returned the smile, nodded, turned and left Thomas to cope with the aftermath of severe alcohol poisoning.