“So who’s this famous monster then?” asked Zara.
An innocent enough question, but it was the way she said it that Gus didn’t like. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he saw her holding one of the red handbills that Kevin Waterman had thrust towards him at last month’s Movie Macabre Society meeting. Holding it as though she wouldn’t even deign to wipe her arse on it if it was the only bit of paper she could find.
“It’s a secret,” Gus said, trying to make it sound exciting. “Apparently they have a surprise guest every year.”
“Well, whoopee-doo, I can hardly wait,” Zara said, deadpan.
She opened her fingers, allowing the handbill to flutter to the floor. Gus glanced at Richard, sitting in the passenger seat, and raised his eyebrows. Richard’s answering expression said it all: Liam had done it again. Why did he insist on bringing each of his latest conquests along to what the boys affectionately referred to as their geek-fests? Liam’s women were never the kind who ‘understood’, and invariably they ended up spoiling it for everybody else. Gus couldn’t even believe that Liam himself gained much from inviting them. Maybe the occasional knee-trembler in the car park or the toilets, though once the girls realised what he’d brought them to, and had endured as much movie-talk, alienating banter and sour wine as they could stomach, Gus couldn’t believe that even Liam got much action. Indeed, what generally happened was that his date would ‘go off on one’, as Richard would say, whereupon the inevitable, ensuing row would usually create an atmosphere from which the evening would never recover.
Tonight looked like being no exception. Well, apart from the fact that this might well end up being the greatest geek-fest disaster ever. Because tonight was an all-nighter. And not only that, but it was an all-nighter in the middle of nowhere, to and from which there was only one mode of transport: Gus’s beat-up Mini. So if Zara stomped up to him at 2a.m. expecting to be taken home, then she would be in for a disappointment. Gus fully intended to be there for the duration, which meant sitting through eight hours of dubious celluloid bliss before emerging from the darkness with the rest of the moles at 8a.m. And if Zara didn’t like that she would just have to lump it.
He’d known as soon as she walked into the Flying Pig earlier that Liam hadn’t warned her what to expect.
“You did tell her where we were going, didn’t you?” he asked when she went off to the toilet.
“Course I did.”
“Then how come she’s all dolled up like she’s expecting to go clubbing?”
Liam evaded Gus’s eyes. “Well, I may have embellished things a little.”
“Embellished how?”
“Well, not so much embellished as…well, I reckon she might have got the wrong end of the stick.”
Gus sighed. “Tell me the worst.”
“I think she thinks this is gonna be some flash movie event. Like the Oscars or something.”
“The Oscars!”
Liam grinned that sheepish grin of his, the one all the girls fell for. “Yeah, I know. Mad innit?”
Gus read him the riot act. Liam listened seriously, nodding in all the right places, and at the end he airily told Gus to chill the pill, that everything would be fine.
“I mean it, Liam,” Gus said. “You tell her we’re going to be sitting in a dingy cinema in the middle of nowhere, watching a bunch of obscure horror movies, probably half of which will be subtitled. You tell her there’ll be no booze, but if she’s lucky she might get a mug of stewed tea and an over-priced Penguin biscuit. You tell her, Liam. You fucking tell her.”
“I will, man, I will.”
But he didn’t. Of course he didn’t. And Gus just knew from the way she had dropped the handbill that a) the truth was only now beginning to percolate and b) she was not happy about it. Nothing ever changes, he thought, as the country lanes grew twistier and narrower and darker, and the Mini’s heater struggled to overcome the falling temperatures outside. Nothing ever fucking changes.
Gus, Richard and Liam had met on the screenwriting course at college almost a dozen years earlier. Their roles had been boldly delineated from the start – Liam the fanny magnet, Richard the corpulent party animal who never got the girls, and Gus the sensible one. Now they were each on the cusp of thirty and the basic truth still held. Gus was married to Anne, an unremarkable but steady girl he had met at work. They had a two year-old son called Thomas and another on the way. Liam had left a string of broken hearts in his wake, and Richard had left not a single one in his. It was not that Richard didn’t care about girls, it was simply that he didn’t care enough about himself. He ate all the wrong foods, he smoked too much, he drank too much. He was five-seven and he weighed eighteen stone. As if all that wasn’t enough of a hindrance to his chances, Richard made things even harder for himself by always gravitating towards girls who gave him a hard time. Okay, so he was entitled to his particular taste in women, but the thing was none of these girls even wanted to be anything more than friends with him – which meant he still got the hard time, but without any of the physical benefits. He seemed happy enough, though, if what he said was to be believed. Gus had once asked him what the advantages and disadvantages of living alone were, to which Richard had glibly replied, “Disadvantages – no sex. Advantages – everything else.”
“What’s this place we’re going to again?” Liam asked.
“Lethewater,” said Richard.
“Never heard of it,” snapped Zara.
“Yes, but that doesn’t necessarily make it a bad place, does it?” said Gus.
Zara glared at him. “I’d appreciate not being spoken to like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m a bimbo in one of your films.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t behave like one then.”
“Fuck you, mummy’s boy.”
Gus slewed the car towards the high hedge at the side of the road and slammed on the brakes. Richard grabbed the dashboard in front of him, bracing himself. From the back Gus was gratified to hear an “oof” as Zara was jerked forward, her seatbelt cutting across her.
In a tight voice Gus said, “I’d appreciate it if you’d get out and walk from here. It’s only another few miles.”
There was a moment of silence then Liam said, “All right, mate, you’ve made your point.”
“I mean it, Liam. I’ve been looking forward to tonight. This is one of only a few chances I get to escape these days. I’m not having it spoiled.”
“Escape?” said Liam. “Married life really that bad, is it?”
“That’s not what I meant,” said Gus quickly. “Married life is fine. But that doesn’t mean I don’t relish a bit of time to indulge my own interests now and then.”
Zara muttered something about sad losers who enjoyed watching women getting chopped up. It was a comment to which Gus would have retorted with both indignation and derision if Liam hadn’t quickly interjected, “Look, tonight’s not gonna be spoiled. We’re all gonna have a great time. So come on, you two. Kiss and make up.”
Gus sat with his hands on the steering wheel, staring straight ahead. Hating the reedy whine in his own voice he said, “I don’t want to fall out with anyone. But it seems to me that Zara’s had a downer on this evening from the start.”
“Nah, she hasn’t,” said Liam. “You’re looking forward to tonight, aren’t you, babe?”
“Oh, yeah,” said Zara heavily.
“See what I mean?” said Gus. “Sarcasm.”
“That’s not sarcasm,” said Liam. “That’s just the way she speaks. She doesn’t mean anything by it.”
In all honesty, Gus was at a loss. Having stopped the car, he now felt that driving on would be like admitting defeat. On the other hand he had no real intention of kicking Liam and Zara out. The roads were narrow, with no pavements, nor even verges, to speak of. It would be lethal to try to negotiate them on foot. The two of them would likely end up as roadkill when the next car came beetling round the corner.
“Come on, Gus,” Richard said at last, “let’s just go. Like you said, it’s probably only another few miles. The sooner we get there the sooner you two can get out of each other’s hair.”
Gus felt Liam’s hand on his shoulder. “You know it makes sense, man. Tell you what, me and Zara will just sit here and get quietly pissed.”
Richard twisted his bulk around in the passenger seat with difficulty. “You got some booze?”
Liam waggled a half-pint bottle of Jack Daniels at him.
“Cool,” said Richard. “Let’s have a swig.”
“Sure thing, mate.”
Gus sighed and started the car up again as Liam passed round the bottle. As he eased the car back on to the road, it was thrust towards his face, but he shook his head angrily. Richard gulped at the sour mash and was turning to hand the bottle to Zara in the back seat when something darted across the road in front of them, briefly illuminated by the headlights.
Gus jerked back in his seat. “Jesus!”
“What?” said Richard, then noticed his friend’s wide-eyed expression. “What did you see?”
“Bloody good question,” Gus said.
Richard narrowed his eyes. “What you on about? Are you shitting us?”
“No way,” said Gus. He glanced into the rearview mirror. “Did you guys see it?”
“See what?” said Liam.
“I don’t know. Something ran across the road in front of the car. Something big and white.”
There was a beat of silence, then Richard said, “Like what? A polar bear?”
“Frosty the Snowman?” said Liam, and Zara giggled.
“I don’t know what it was,” Gus said. “I only saw it for a second.”
He didn’t tell them the other thing, largely because he couldn’t even swear to the fact that he’d actually seen it. It had seemed to him, though, that the thing had not climbed but flowed over the hedge and across the road, perhaps even zig-zagging as it did so, like a snake.
Shuddering, he revved the engine and the car jerked forward, crossing the place where the figure had been. Five miles further on they came to an unmarked crossroads.
“Which way?” Gus asked.
Richard squinted at the map in the car’s dim internal light. “Beats me. I can’t make head nor tail of this.”
“You’re too pissed,” said Gus accusingly.
“I am not!”
“So which way then?”
“Er… left, I think.”
They went left. The roads grew narrower, the hedges higher still. They passed between tall black trees, whose leafless branches tangled overhead, forming a natural canopy. It seemed to Gus that they were travelling continuously downhill. There were no lights, no landmarks. The silence inside the car grew oppressive. Finally, after fifteen minutes of driving that felt aimless, Richard said, “There’s a signpost up ahead.”
Softly Liam began to hum the theme to The Twilight Zone. The signpost drifted into focus.
“We’re here,” Richard said.
Almost immediately, orange dabs of light appeared through the black-limbed trees. Moments later they solidified into a line of mist-wreathed street lamps, behind which hunched a row of bleak cottages.
“Nice place,” said Liam.
“We’re looking for the Lethewater Picture House,” said Gus. “It should be on the High Street.”
He drove on. There was nothing to indicate that one street was more significant than the next. All at once, however, a blocky white building swam into view on their right, squatting beneath a row of hooded lights which barely illuminated the name of the cinema in faded red letters.
“Looks like the place,” said Richard unnecessarily. “Fucking hell!”
The expletive was not his response to the building’s shabby charm, but to the figure which suddenly bounded from its entrance towards the car. It might have been a bear, except that its head was crowned by a pair of antlers. For the second time in twenty minutes Gus stamped on the brake, throwing his passengers against their seatbelts.
Despite the fact that the car had come to a standstill in the middle of the street, the antlered creature still raised a hand like a traffic policeman as it lumbered forward. When it was close enough it rapped on the driver’s window. Gus cranked the handle and the window squeaked open, allowing a gust of pre-winter into the car.
“You here for the festival?”
“Yeah.”
“There’s a car park round the back. Turn right by the side of the building. S’dark round there, though. Be careful you don’t drive into the river.”
Liam leaned forward into the space between the back of Gus’s seat and the open driver’s window. “Feeling horny, mate?” he asked.
The man, bulky in his thick parka and sheepskin gloves, looked as though his dark goatee was dragging his slab-like face into a hangdog expression. “What?”
Liam tapped his head. “Just wondered what the antlers were in aid of.”
The man raised a hand to the black baseball cap on which the plastic antlers were mounted. Across the brim, red letters slashed out the word Herne.
“It’s a promotional item for one of our independents,” he said.
“Any good?” asked Gus. “The movie, I mean.”
The bearded man looked at Gus as though he was failing to be funny. “They’re all good.”
“How many independents you got tonight?” asked Richard.
“All of them. All our films are by local film makers. Always have been, always will be.”
Gus and Richard exchanged a look. “I didn’t realise that,” Gus said evenly.
“I think you’ll be impressed,” the man said.
If we aren’t, we’ll never hear the end of it, Gus wanted to say, thinking of Zara, but instead he smiled stiffly. “Right then. We’ll get parked up.”
The area behind the cinema was a lightless patch of rubble bordered by trees. There were four other cars here, parked so haphazardly they might have been abandoned by joy riders.
“What a dump,” Zara remarked.
“I have a feeling this is going to be an experience,” Richard murmured.
Gus tried to sound more cheery than he felt. “Now that we’re here, we might as well make the best of it.”
“Or alternatively we could still make last orders at the Pie and Platter if you put your foot down,” Liam said from the back.
“Don’t you start!” snapped Gus.
Liam held up his hands, grinning. “Just joking, mate. We missed last orders ten minutes ago.”
It wasn’t until they got out of the car that they heard the sound of running water. It was coming from the darkness beyond the row of ragged trees at the edge of the patch of wasteland. Richard began wandering towards it as though mesmerised by the sound.
“What you doing?” Liam said, draping his arm across Zara’s shoulders.
“Just going to have a look at the river,” said Richard.
“Liam, I’m cold,” Zara complained.
“See you in there, Rich,” Liam called and he and Zara stalked away.
Gus hovered indecisively, wondering whether to go with the couple or wait for Richard. He watched the dark bulk of his friend moving against the deeper blackness beyond. Then Richard came to a halt, and Gus squinted in an effort to adjust his vision, uncomfortable with the brief notion that Richard had only stopped because the darkness had flowed forward like fog to envelop him.
“Rich,” Gus called, aware of how flinty his voice suddenly was and trying immediately to deepen it, “you coming?”
There was no reply and Gus frowned. He took two hesitant steps towards the gurgling rush of water – and Richard appeared from the gloom.
“That was so cool,” he said.
“What was?”
“The water. What else?”
“Could you see anything back there?”
“I’ve told you, the water. It was sparkling in the starlight.”
Gus glanced up. There were no stars, just a thick canopy of cloud. “Come on,” he said, “let’s get inside.”
A series of concentric semi-circles formed steps that led into the cinema entrance. The lobby was tiled in green, red and cream, though the small-scale grandeur of the place was long-faded, the tiles glazed with cracks and stained with decades of cigarette smoke.
Kevin Waterman was there to greet them, his rust-coloured hair gleaming as though oiled. Gus felt relieved to see a familiar face, even though Kevin had only been a member of the Movie Macabre Society for two months.
“Greetings gents and lady,” he said, “glad you could make it.”
From the corner of his eye, Gus saw Zara turn a withering look upon their host. Hastily he said, “Good to be here. What an amazing place.”
“Isn’t it,” said Kevin, spreading his hands, “and this year is its centenary.”
“Fancy that,” murmured Zara.
“You expecting a good crowd tonight?” asked Gus.
“We always get one whether we expect one or not,” Kevin said. “It’s the miracle of our little festival.”
“It’s a miracle anyone comes to this shit-hole,” Zara breathed to Liam, who chuckled dutifully.
Kevin handed each of them a programme of events, then turned and gestured expansively. “Through the door on the left you’ll find a small refreshments area. The door on the right leads to the toilets. The ones directly in front, of course, lead to the theatre of dreams. Our first screening starts promptly at midnight.”
Gus looked at his watch. It was 11:25p.m. “Anyone fancy a coffee before the fun begins?”
Richard nodded and the two of them moved towards the door on the left. Behind him, Gus heard Zara sneer, “So who’s this famous monster then?”
“I’m afraid we never divulge our guest’s identity,” Kevin said.
“I don’t like being ripped off, so it’s better be someone we’ve heard of.”
Gus smiled to himself as he heard Kevin respond, “Only the poorly educated won’t have done.”
The refreshments area was shabby, the choice as minimal as Gus had expected. He endured Zara’s carping silently, resenting her presence, but refusing to give her the satisfaction of knowing she was bugging him. He ate his Kit-Kat and gulped his coffee, and when he went to the toilet at five to twelve it was partly a tactical manoeuvre. He wanted Liam and Zara to enter the cinema ahead of him so he could avoid sitting close by.
The cinema was already darkening when he entered it, the only illumination the pearly glow from the screen. Gus counted only a dozen or so heads bobbing above the backs of chairs which seemed to be exuding a faintly stagnant odour. Either of these factors might provide Zara with more ammunition for her armoury of contempt, but Gus was determined to rise above her barbed comments from now on. Why, after all, should he allow her to ruin a rare night with his friends? If this wasn’t her scene, then she shouldn’t have come, simple as that.
He was heartened, at least, to see Richard sitting alone and waving at him frantically. He made his way down the aisle in the hope that the first movie – a Milton Keynes-set slasher flick entitled Conceived in Blood, about a killer whose victims were all pregnant women – would be so brilliant that Zara’s gripes would seem churlish.
It wasn’t. It was awful. So abysmally incompetent, in fact, that Gus couldn’t help but wonder whether the movie was actually intended as some kind of caustic comment on spectacularly bad film-making.
“Well, that was a load of misogynistic shit,” Zara said with such venom afterwards that Gus’s carefully formulated observations to that effect dried in his throat. As Richard tried vainly to claim that the movie was meant to be ironic rather than exploitative, Gus sat quietly, sipping his coffee and looking around the stained walls at the framed and faded posters for movies that seemed only to emphasise that Conceived In Blood was indefensible trash and had therefore been a waste of all their time: The Searchers, Alphaville, Double Indemnity, The Night of the Hunter…
“What’s that?” Richard said, sitting up so suddenly that his chins wobbled.
They had all heard it, a sudden clamour of voices from the direction of the lobby.
“Probably people demanding their money back after that last pile of wank,” Zara said.
“No,” said Gus with what he hoped didn’t sound like indignation, “they’re not male voices.”
Up to now Zara had been the only woman here. As the lights had come up after Conceived In Blood, Gus hadn’t been able to help noticing that a good half of the smattering of audience members were eyeing her with a blend of desperate lust and utter terror.
“So what do you think’s-” Richard began; then the door opened and the women entered.
Gus’s first thought was that there must have been some mix-up, that Kevin and the other festival organisers must have double-booked the venue with a hen party. Then he saw that the women were all clutching the same programme of events that Kevin had given to him and his friends earlier.
What the hell was going on? There were – what? – a dozen women here. And not only that, but they were all attractive women. Extremely attractive women.
“Have we just died and gone to Heaven?” Richard muttered, but if anything he looked alarmed.
“I don’t know what you think you’re looking at?” Zara snapped.
Gus scowled, assuming that the comment was intended as a slur on his or Richard’s manhood, but then he realised she was talking to Liam.
“I’m not looking at anything,” he protested.
“Not half you’re not. Your eyes are out on stalks.”
Gus tried to conceal a smile, relishing the fact that her nose had been put out of joint by these new arrivals. All the same the sense of dislocation remained. All-night horror festivals were the domain of geeks and Goths, film aficionados, boozy lads, maybe the occasional couple. But definitely not bus-loads of beautiful girls. That was as unlikely as a WI outing to a Pantera gig, or a Sunday school trip to a live sex show.
“So this is where the action is,” one of the women announced loudly, looking in their direction. In fact, Gus realised with astonishment, she was looking directly at Richard, who was already flushed and sweaty with the attention he was getting. The girl looked just the kind that Richard often lusted after – vaguely Gothy, with dyed black hair, thick eyeliner and crimson lipstick. She was wearing a tight black sleeveless T-shirt, black cycle shorts over black fishnets, and black Doc Marten boots. Bracelets jangled on her wrists, and her finger was hooked into the collar of a leather jacket, which was slung over her shoulder. She was skinny but lithe, her arms sinewy with muscle, as if she worked out too much.
She stomped over to their table, bristling with attitude and sexuality – yep, exactly Richard’s kind of girl.
“Hi,” she said, “I’m Echo. You lot been here from the start?”
She looked at Richard as she asked the question. He nodded mutely.
“Cool. So what have we missed?”
“Nothing. A big nothing,” Zara said, a little shrilly.
The girl barely gave her a glance before her attention shifted back to Richard. “First movie not so hot, eh?”
“No,” said Richard, “it was awful.”
“Shame. Well, hopefully now we’re here things will liven up a bit. Hey, you gonna buy me a coffee or what?”
Richard scrambled to do her bidding. When he returned, with two steaming cups, Echo winked and produced a bottle of brandy from her leather jacket. As she tipped generous measures into each of their mugs without asking, Gus felt bound to point out, “Next film starts in five minutes.”
“Yeah,” said Richard. “You go ahead, mate. I’ll catch you up, okay?”
Gus frowned, pursed his lips, nodded stiffly. “I suppose so.”
He felt a little resentful. Festivals like this were supposed to be havens of boyish indulgence, free from the distractions of everyday life. Gus was on his way out, grumpily wondering whether his evening was going to be ruined after all, when a girl caught his eye. She was incredibly pretty, with fluffy blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. Whereas Echo had given an immediate impression of aggression, bluntness and sexual confidence, this girl exuded sweetness, homeliness, vulnerability. Whereas Echo’s body would be hard and cool, this girl’s, Gus felt sure, would be warm and soft.
“Hello,” she said, smiling at him.
“Hi,” said Gus.
She blushed a little. “Look, I hope you don’t think I’m being forward, but I was just wondering…are you going to see this next film?”
“I am, yes,” Gus said.
“Oh. Well, in that case…I mean…would you mind if I came in with you? I know I don’t know you or anything, but I just…I’d feel a bit weird on my own.”
Two thoughts flashed into Gus’s mind, both of which he instantly dismissed. One was: why doesn’t the girl go in with her friends? And the other was: what would his pregnant wife think if she could see him now?
“Sure,” he heard himself saying.
She grinned as though it was the best news she’d heard for a long time, displaying brilliant white teeth and a delicate pink tongue. Gus wondered what it would be like to kiss her, to feel that tongue probing into his mouth. He just knew that her breath would be minty fresh, and that she would be passionate but not overly experienced. She certainly wouldn’t be sexually intimidating, like her friend, Echo – and indeed like some of the girls at work, who these days talked about sex in the same boorish way as the men.
Albeit ever so briefly, it did occur to him to wonder why he was entertaining such thoughts. But then again, they were just thoughts, weren’t they? There was no real harm in them. He felt a wriggle of pleasure as the girl linked arms with him.
“My name’s Melissa by the way,” she said.
“Mine’s Gus.”
“Pleased to meet you, Gus,” she said, and giggled delightfully.
They had barely taken their seats in the cinema when the lights were abruptly extinguished and the film started. Red letters on a black background spelled out the words: Naiad Productions Presents. When a rumble of music began, interspersed with thin stings of sound, Melissa gripped his arm.
“Horror films always creep me out,” she confided. “I’m only here ’cos my friends wanted to come.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” Gus heard himself saying.
She gave his arm a squeeze of thanks – and then instantly shrieked and pressed herself against him when the title, Herne, filled the screen accompanied by a blast of sound.
The second movie was as execrable as the first, but Gus barely noticed. He could concentrate on nothing but the soft, beautiful, sexy woman who clung to him pretty much throughout, the warm swell of her not inconsiderable breasts pushing against the side of his arm. Her attentions caused the blood not only to race through his veins and speed up his heart, but to flow into his groin. He couldn’t remember the last time he had maintained an erection for so long – for almost the entire ninety-minute duration of the film, in fact.
When it came to standing up at the end of the movie, he had to hold the programme in front of him at waist level. He thought the reason for his doing so must be patently obvious to all, but Melissa, at least, seemed unaware of his discomfort.
“That was so scary,” she said as the double doors of the cinema swung shut behind them.
“Did you think so?” said Gus, trying to look and sound natural.
She regarded him with saucer eyes. “Didn’t you?”
“Not really, to be honest. I guess when you’ve seen a lot of horror movies like I have you become a bit hardened to them.”
“You must have a very high fear threshold,” she said admiringly.
“I don’t know about that.”
She waggled her fingers at him. “Feel my hand. I’m shaking.”
Gus took her hand, trying not to appear too eager. Her skin was as warm and soft as he had imagined it would be. He felt his erection, which had been finally beginning to dwindle, stir again, and clenched his teeth, willing it away.
“I really need some air,” said Melissa, “but I’m too scared to go out on my own after that. You wouldn’t do me one more big favour, would you, Gus, and come with me?”
“Course I will,” said Gus, immediately feeling ashamed for allowing himself to wonder where this might lead.
“You’re an absolute poppet,” she said, and they moved towards the entrance. Just at that moment, however, Zara stamped up the steps of the building, her cheeks inflamed with either cold or fury.
“Have you seen Liam?” she demanded in such a way that the latter seemed the more likely option.
Gus stepped away from Melissa, feeling guilty about his proximity to her despite telling himself he had no need to be.
“No,” he said. “Have you lost him?”
“I just went to the bog,” she said (Gus winced and thought, Melissa would have said ‘ladies’), “and when I came back he was gone.”
Gus shrugged. “We’ve been in the film. We’ve only just come out.”
Zara glared at Melissa. “I wouldn’t have put it past one of your lot to have got her claws into him.”
Melissa quailed, and Gus had to resist an urge to put a protective arm around her. To Zara he said, “It’s not fair to have a go at Melissa. She hasn’t done anything wrong. Besides, it takes two to tango. If there’s anyone you should be angry at, it’s Liam.”
“Oh, I am, believe me,” she said. She turned to Melissa again and said acidly, “He’s married, you know.”
“What?” said Melissa in a small voice.
“Gus. He’s married. He’s got a pregnant wife and a kid at home.”
Despite himself Gus felt his face grow hot and knew he was blushing. “I haven’t made a secret of that.”
“Oh, told her, have you?”
“It hasn’t come up,” Gus said.
“No, but I bet something else has,” snapped Zara.
Gus didn’t know where to look. “Sorry about this, Melissa,” he muttered. To Zara he said, “Why don’t you go away. You twist everything round, think the worst of everybody.”
She glared at him a moment longer, then her mask slipped and suddenly he was shocked to see tears in her eyes. “Sorry, Gus,” she said, “you’re right, I shouldn’t be taking it out on you. It’s just…oh fuck, it’s just that I really like Liam, and I thought…I thought he really liked me too.”
How many times had Gus heard this? Though he had dismissed Zara as hard, foul-mouthed, judgemental and cynical, all at once he realised that some of it, at least, must be a front. Underneath, it seemed, she had a softer, more vulnerable side.
With a sigh of both sympathy and resignation he said, “Were any of the other girls showing an interest in Liam before you went to the loo?”
Zara nodded. “There was this one girl in particular. Daphne her name was. She was a friend of Echo’s. She came and sat with us. She kept giving Liam the eye.”
“And how did Liam react?”
“How do you think? He’s a man, isn’t he?”
“So when you came back from the loo, where did Richard and Echo say Liam had gone?”
She snorted. “Well, they’d buggered off too, hadn’t they? Soon as I turned my back, off they all went.” Bleakly she said, “Am I really that fucking unbearable to be with?”
“Course not,” Gus said, “and maybe it’s not what you think.”
“What else could it be?”
“Er… dunno,” he admitted. “So what do you want to do?”
“Kill myself,” she said, and laughed a little too shrilly. “No, on second thoughts, kill Liam. That’d make me happier.”
“Do you want us to help you look for him?”
“It’s pointless. I’ve looked everywhere.”
“Well… maybe they just went for a walk. Maybe one of them felt ill.”
“Yeah, and maybe the Pope’s a Hindu.”
Gus didn’t know what else to say. He felt sorry for Zara, but the truth was he wanted to be on his own with Melissa. “Well, me and Melissa are going for a cup of tea,” he said, hoping he wasn’t being presumptuous. “Er…do you want to join us?”
Zara looked at Gus and then at Melissa, as if weighing up the situation. At last she said, “No offence, Melissa, but I don’t think I could face sitting in there with your mates right now.”
“None taken,” said Melissa brightly.
“And sorry to be a pain, Gus, but you wouldn’t mind just having a little walk around the village with me, would you? Just a ten-minute stroll? See if they are around?”
“Well…”
“Please? I’d really appreciate it.”
“Okay,” said Gus, stepping away from Melissa and feeling an almost physical pang as he did so. “I’ll only be about ten minutes,” he told her.
“That’s fine,” she said. “I’ll be here.”
He gave her a wistful smile, then he and Zara walked out of the cinema. They turned right and were half-way along the deserted street when Zara said, “What are you playing at?”
Gus instantly felt guilty, though again told himself he had no reason to be. “What do you mean?”
“You’re fawning all over that girl like some love-struck teenager.”
“I am not!”
“Yes you are. Look, Gus, I know it’s none of my business, but I thought you were different to your mates. I thought you were Mr Dull, Mr Sensible.”
“Oh, thanks a lot.”
“Sorry. I don’t mean that in a nasty way. It’s just…well, you’re sorted. You’ve got a wife and a kid and another kid on the way, whereas Liam and Richard are different, aren’t they? They can afford to twat about and make arseholes of themselves. I mean, Richard’s single, and to be honest he’s never gonna get a job as Johnny Depp’s double, so he might as well take what he can get. And Liam…well, Liam’s Liam, isn’t he? He’s a lad. He thinks with his cock. He’s never gonna be faithful and true.”
“You know all that about him?”
“Course I do. I’m not thick.”
“No, what I mean is…you know it and you still go out with him?”
“Yeah, well… I might not be thick, but I’m still a woman. And women like blokes who are a bit dangerous, don’t they? They don’t like doormats.”
“I wish I was dangerous,” Gus said wistfully.
“Nah, you don’t. Cos ultimately, once she’s been through all the bad lads, you’re the kind of bloke a woman wants to settle down and have kids with.” To his astonishment she linked arms with him.
“Are you coming on to me?” Gus said.
She snorted. “As if!”
They did a complete circuit of the village. There was no sign of Liam and the others. There was no sign of anyone, in fact.
“It’s fucking weird,” said Zara.
Gus looked at his watch. “Well, it is half-three in the morning.”
“Even so. Ah fuck it, let’s go back. The bastard’ll turn up sooner or later. Bad pennies always do.”
“Sorry how things have turned out,” Gus said.
“Not your fault. Promise me one thing, though. Don’t go off with that Melissa. Don’t even have a snog with her.”
“I won’t,” Gus said, but he felt something die inside.
Though the lights were still on when they got back to the cinema, the lobby was deserted.
“That’s funny,” said Gus.
“What is?”
He indicated the double doors that led into the cinema. “There’s supposed to be a film on in there, but I can’t hear anything.”
“Maybe it’s on a quiet bit.”
“Hang on a sec.”
Gus pushed open the left-hand door and poked his head inside. To his surprise the screen was blank, the room unoccupied.
“There’s no one in there,” he told Zara.
“Well, maybe they’re all in the café. Maybe the projector’s broken down or something.”
They walked down the short corridor to their left and Gus pushed open the café door. He sensed Zara bracing herself to face Liam.
But she needn’t have bothered. The café was empty.
“What’s going on?” Gus said, walking slowly into the room and looking left and right, as if he might have missed something. The tables were littered with empty coffee cups and snack wrappers. There was even a pair of gloves and a baseball cap on one table, and over on the other side of the room a parka draped over a chair-back.
He swivelled and looked at Zara, bewilderment on his face. “Where is everybody?”
“This is seriously weird,” she said.
“There must be some logical explanation.”
She shook her head. “Oh, don’t say that. That’s what they always say in horror films.”
He tried to laugh, but couldn’t quite manage it. “Well, let’s think about what could have happened. I bet we could come up with a dozen possible explanations if we tried.”
“Such as?”
“Such as… maybe there was a bomb scare.”
“Yeah, right. ‘Cos terrorists are now targeting backwater cinemas in villages no one’s ever heard of. That makes perfect sense.”
“Well, you come up with something then,” Gus said.
Zara pursed her lips as if thinking hard – and just at that moment, from somewhere behind the cinema, there came a blood-curdling scream.
Zara’s whole body seemed to flinch inwards. A look of utter shock appeared on her face. “Oh my God!” she squealed. “Oh God, Gus, what was that?”
Gus felt as if his stomach was contracting. His mouth was suddenly very dry. “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe…maybe Liam and the others are playing a joke on us. Maybe they’re trying to scare us.”
“They’re fucking succeeding,” she said.
“Do you think we ought to see what’s going on?”
“No, I fucking don’t!”
“Maybe someone’s being attacked.”
“Then we’ll call the police,” Zara said. She already had her mobile in her hand and was jabbing at the 9s. “Come on, come on,” she muttered, then looked at the screen in disgust. “No fucking signal. Try yours.”
“Mine’s in the car,” said Liam.
“Brilliant. Well done, Einstein.”
“Come on,” Liam said, “let’s get to the car and drive to the next town. We’ll find a police station, tell them what’s happening.”
Zara looked as if she was being forced to make the most excruciating decision of her life, then abruptly she nodded. They exited the café and headed for the main entrance. As they reached the lobby she gripped his hand tightly.
“Stick with me,” she said.
“I will.”
It seemed darker than ever round the back of the cinema. Their feet crackled on the uneven stony ground.
“It’s quiet now,” Gus said, “and all the cars are still here.”
“I’ve just thought of something,” Zara said.
“What?”
“How did Echo and that lot get here? I thought they must have come on a coach, or maybe in a few cars, but there’s nothing in the car park.”
Gus looked around. “Maybe they did come on a coach, and maybe now they and everyone else have left on the coach.”
“Why?”
Gus could only shrug.
They crept towards the car, Gus’s free hand clutching the keys in a sweaty grip in his pocket. When they reached it, Zara released his hand and hurried to the passenger side. She stood, moving from foot to foot, glancing around nervously, as Gus circled the car to the driver’s door and put the key in the lock.
“Couldn’t you have got a car with central locking?” she muttered.
He was about to reply when, from the direction of the river, a voice called, “Help me…”
They both froze. Zara looked at him with wide eyes over the roof of the car. “Oh shit,” she said, “open the fucking door quickly.”
“Someone’s in trouble,” Gus said.
“So what?”
“I’m sure that was Richard’s voice.”
Zara sagged and looked as though she was about to burst into tears. “Please don’t tell me you wanna check it out.”
Gus hesitated, then said, “I can’t just drive away. Not if Richard’s in trouble. Look, you can wait for me in the car. You can even have the keys. Lock all the doors and I’ll be back in five minutes.”
“This is a really bad idea,” said Zara.
“Five minutes and no more. I promise.”
He gave Zara the keys and hurried towards the river. There was no point in being stealthy, no point in creeping through the darkness. If something was going to happen to him, then it was going to happen regardless.
The uneven row of gnarled and leafless trees which bordered the car park loomed from the black murk as he approached them, like an image in an optical puzzle book suddenly coming into focus. Beyond the trees Gus could hear the river. It was gurgling and rushing, making a sound that was simultaneously both enchanting and disquieting. It was surely only his heightened imagination that made it seem as though the water was trying, and almost succeeding, to form words. He was certain, at least, that he could hear a whispering voice beneath its flow – though perhaps a whisper was all that whoever was in trouble could now manage. Perhaps that was why Richard, if it was he who had called out, had not repeated his plaintive plea for help.
Stepping between the trees was like stepping through a gateway beyond which more of the truth was revealed. Despite the fact that the sky was both moonless and starless, Gus could see the river now, and it was every bit as beautiful as Richard had earlier suggested. Pinpoints of brilliant light with no discernible origin danced on its surface, forming endless dazzling patterns. Gus gazed, enraptured. Indeed, he found the spectacle so breath-taking that he was almost moved to tears. Time seemed to melt away, and with it went everything that seemed to shackle him to his dense and moribund life – his anxieties, his inhibitions, his frailties and uncertainties, his sense of social and moral duty.
It was only when she spoke that Gus realised Melissa was standing beside him. “Join us,” she whispered, and her breath was as sweet as he had known it would be.
“Can I?” he said.
“Of course. That’s why you were brought here. Each year she must be renewed.”
“She?” said Gus.
Melissa kissed his cheek gently. “The river. The wilderness. Artemis.”
“Artemis,” Gus repeated.
As though roused by the speaking of her name, the goddess rose. She formed from the light, spiralling up and up, river water cascading from her. Released from the glamour, Melissa too shed the illusion of humanity and became an image of her goddess. In his last moments Gus recalled the moment in his past life when he had seen Melissa for the first time. Not at the cinema, but earlier that evening, when she had been marking the boundary over which he and the others had inevitably crossed. He had thought then that she was a man; how arrogant of him. But would he have been saved – would any of them have been saved – if he had recognised and acknowledged that the domain they were entering was female?
It made little difference now. Far away, in another world, he heard the sound of a car engine and hoped that Zara, at least, would be spared.
Then he closed his eyes and spread his arms and gave himself to the divine.