175

Kalix lay in her room, huddled under her quilt. She was weak after the fight in the park but was refusing to turn into a werewolf because then she would eat. Kalix had made up her mind never to eat again. Gawain having a new lover was final proof that she was a worthless creature who didn’t deserve to live. Her left arm was a mass of new cuts. She sipped laudanum, and slipped in and out of bad dreams.

Moonglow lay on her bed, still devastated by Markus’s rejection. She’d been crying for two days and hadn’t been able to attend college. She played Kate Bush constantly but though this had helped her to survive emotional emergencies in the past, it now brought her little comfort. Her misery over Markus transcended even Kate Bush. She just couldn’t believe that she could be so quickly brushed aside by someone she was so much in love with.

Daniel lay in his room, between those of Kalix and Moonglow, and stared gloomily at the ceiling. Moonglow’s profound unhappiness had now plunged him into deeper misery. For a while he’d tried looking at it positively. ‘If Moonglow is so unhappy over Markus, maybe she’ll turn to me.’ He hadn’t been able to maintain the idea for long.

Daniel had done what he could to comfort both Moonglow and Kalix. His efforts had been completely unsuccessful. They both seemed to be beyond comforting.

‘I’m living in the unhappiest household in London,’ thought Daniel. ‘Possibly the world.’ Daniel was also under his quilt, though for warmth rather than emotional support. All the bedrooms in the house were cold, thanks to the inefficient heating. Only the living room with its fire had any real warmth, but no one was visiting the living room. There was too much danger of meeting a flat-mate, and having to confront their misery.

Oppressed by the silence, Daniel crawled from his bed to his computer and connected to doom-metal.com. Surely the only music suitable for a time like this. He studied the radio station’s play list. There was a list of genres: traditional doom, atmospheric doom, gothic doom, metal doom, progressive doom, death doom, suicidal doom, funeral doom, and various others. A wide choice. Daniel could appreciate the subtleties involved. In fact Daniel could have named a different band in every category, if anyone had asked him, which no one ever had. He turned it on and was satisfied to hear a series of loud groaning chords and an agonised voice telling him there was no hope for the future. Absolutely right. These doom metal bands, they really knew what was going on.

Next door Kalix could hear Daniel’s music. She didn’t like the interruption so she put on her headphones to listen to the Runaways. Night fell on the unhappiest home in South London, with neither the Runaways, Kate Bush nor the assembled hordes of doom metal bringing any real comfort to the occupants.