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ONE

 I was sitting on the window ledge of the lounge, Hugh Laurie was singing the Blues and I was having a fag, letting the smoke drift out the open window. It was a fine summer evening the sun was still giving a warmth that was cosy rather than oppressive.  Summer had been a disappointment for some as it had not been hot enough for them.  Me, on the other hand, I didn’t like it to warm. Cosy, that’s how I liked it and cool at night so that I could sleep without waking up in a pool of my own sweat.

It would be my own sweat as no one was sharing my bed these nights, not that I missed it really, the life of a single guy was growing on me again since I was left on my own 6 months ago. And if she was still here I certainly wouldn’t be sitting in-doors having my fag, no, I would have been out on my ear as soon as the pack came out of my pocket, hail, rain or shine, “ If you want to smoke, do it outside, not in here”, she would say.

We had been together now for two years, or rather we would have been together for two years if she had still been here with me, but fate had intervened and taken her away from me as suddenly as it had thrown us together.

I took another drag on my fag, inhaling slowly.  She hated smoking and she hated smelling it on me, but she was full of contradictions as I would catch her looking at me when we were out, with that quirky smile on her face, “ What you looking at,” I’d say.  “You, I like the way you do that.”  “What?” I asked.  “The way you hold the cigarette and inhale so deeply, it’s like a caress, it’s the way you hold me at night, when we are together, as if you don’t want to let go. You’re like that when you smoke, you know it’s no good for you, but you are passionate about it!”  I thought about that for a few moments when she said it, finally asking, “Do you think that you’re no good for me, is that what you’re saying?”

“Maybe I’m not.” She replied looking away with a slight frown.  Still not looking back at me she continued, “You still don’t really know me. Who I am, what I am.”  “I told you before, when you’re ready you’ll be able to tell me, I’m in no hurry, as long as you aren’t an axe murderer or anything like that” She looked away again, troubled.

I liked to look at her, especially at night when she was asleep.  From the moment I saw her in that alley, being attacked, dirty and dishevelled, I knew, underneath the grime, she was going to be stunning and she was.  A titian, but unlike a normal redhead her skin was not too fair more a Mediterranean duskiness. And her eyes, although yet to determine the exact colouring had a fire in them that almost burned her attackers with the intensity of the glare.

18^th July 2009,  it was a Saturday.  I had just left the Golden Nugget casino on Shaftesbury Avenue, it was 3 AM.  Not an upmarket place, but good enough for me.  I wasn’t really a gambler, never been in a bookies before, but I did like a flutter with a couple of hundred on a Friday night. Blackjack and roulette were my games and there was a bistro restaurant, nothing fancy.  Also it was handy for me. I had inherited a flat in the city nearby.

She looked to be about just under 6 foot, tall for a woman, and not the usual obese women we come to expect as we move about our cities and towns in the UK.  No, this woman was athletic, not muscular athletic but graceful athletic, even pinned against the wall, you could tell this and she was bleeding from the mouth as one of the attackers hit her again while screaming at her, the attackers face inches from her own and showering her in spittle.

“Now, Ciara, stop fucking about, Fatima doesn’t like it when people fuck her especially if she hasn’t dropped her knickers first, and you have royally fucked her, haven’t you. Now where the fuck is it, or do you want some more of this?”  She was about the same size as Ciara, English, but built like a prop forward from the local rugby team. Ciara was a like a rag doll against her.  Her mate, a guy, not speaking and just standing off to one side, was again as tall and as wide and held one of these shiny metal baseball bats, slapping it into the open palm of his right hand; he was a lefty then, nice to know.  

Ciara spat blood in her face; “Fuck you Silverblade, I haven’t got it and even if I did, you can still fuck off” and she tried to struggle against what looked like a vice like grip at her throat.  At that, Silverblade turned to the guy and as she spoke his name, “Ned...” her voice trailed off for a moment as she looked round Ned and spotted me. “We’ve got some unexpected company” she said, smiling, nodding her head in my direction. It was a kind of joyous smile, the kind of smile that you would expect to see on a child or someone you had just given a nice gift to.  But in that moment I supposed it was also the kind of smile that a psychopath might have as he or she inflicted pain or as in this case, was the harbinger of the pain that Ned was about to inflict on me!

Silverblade did not move, nor did she release her left handed grip on Ciara’s throat.  She just pointed to me with her right hand and said, “Ned, if the gentleman wont fuck off on his own accord, maybe you would assist him in finding his way back to the street, but don’t be too rough on him. he looks cute!”  Ned smiled, it wasn’t a nice smile.  I guessed, like me, he was a smoker, but unlike me he didn’t look after his teeth, yellow and one was missing.  He appeared to be almost salivating at the prospect of hitting me with the bat. 

I just put my hands up, palms face out to show that I was unarmed.  Also that I was wearing a suit and tie and therefore no threat to them, I said, “Sorry, I didn’t meant to interrupt, but if it’s money you’re after I could let you have mine, if you let the lady go..”  I was actually hoping, that that would work as I was not in the mood, I hadn’t lost any money in the casino, I left on evens tonight, but, I had a bit of thumping headache, so, the last thing I wanted was a rumble in a dark London alleyway, but, on the other hand there was a lady in distress, even if one of the attackers was also ‘a lady’.

The one named Silverblade let out a giggle, yes, it was a giggle, not expected, and when you hear someone giggling it’s normally a nice sound, but her giggle was accompanied by, “Oh, fuck it Ned just whack him and take his wallet, ponce fucking offered so it would be churlish of us to refuse and anyway, we may as well have ourselves a bonus and we’ll just take this bitch back to Fatima’s place for some playtime.”

At that, I moved. I took two steps to my right, Ned’s left, holding the bat in his left hand this left him wrong footed and he tried to swing the bat towards me, it was awkward for him, not for me. As I stepped up I put my weight on my right leg. Lifted my left and smashed it down into his left kneecap.  He screamed and started to go down, dropping the bat, I caught it and for good measure whacked him over the back of the head sending him sprawling into the alleyway behind me.  I continued to move forward, I didn’t look behind me as I knew that I had hit Ned with enough force to give him a severe concussion and that he wouldn’t be any more trouble.

Silverblade still hadn’t moved from her position holding Ciara  by the throat and with just a hint of curiosity I also noticed that she didn’t seem bothered about how I had managed to take out Ned or that I was now moving towards her with the metal bat in my hands.

“Be ca...” the words were cut off by a strangled moan from Ciara’s mouth as Silverblade tightened her grip with little effort, but I got her meaning. Silverblade was still smiling when she said, “So you’re not just a cutesy in a suit then.” She said as a long bladed knife with what looked like a heavy silver handle appeared in her hand.  She was fast. And in one fluid move the knife came up and the handle connected with Ciara’s temple at the same time as Silverblade let go of Ciara’s throat with her left hand, she slumped, unconscious to the ground.  “Let it go” I said, “Your knife is no match for this bat, why don’t you just take your mate and leave.” I suggested hopefully. “If it’s money you’re after I have a couple of hundred in my wallet, you can have it if you just leave, now.”

Other than turning to face me head on, she had made no move to move away from the limp body of Ciara lying behind her.  “I don’t need your money, and as for her” she said, but without taking her eyes of me, “She gets her money from us.” “So what is it you want from her apart from a need to show that you are more of man then her and can beat up on someone else?”  As the conversation went on I knew she was measuring me up as I was her, trying to see if there was a weakness we could each exploit.  But she was good, she had her prey at her feet and wasn’t about to let me get to her without a fight.  “She took something that didn’t belong to her “ she said, “and we want it back”

“Look, I don’t want to fight you, but from what I saw and the little I heard, it seems to me that if I were in her shoes and you were beating down on me I would have given up whatever it is you thought I had stolen, if I had it” I thought that sounded reasonable but it soon became evident that this Silverblade wasn’t a reasonable person. “Fuck you,, we know she took it and you should do yourself a favour and turn around, before I lose my patience with you, which aint going to be long” she ended. “Sorry, can’t do ...” but before I could finish she moved, same trick as me with Ned earlier, she moved to my right, but I was ready for her and as quick as she was with her knife I was just as quick. The bat handle seamlessly transferred to my left hand and came up to deflect the knife that was just about to sink into my right bicep, missed me by millimetres, but I also had to back pedal as a second blade appeared in her left hand, and was coming in towards my chest. 

So, leave a comment and let me know what you think, should I try and develop this story or throw it in the bin?