Things didn’t get off to a good start. In his haste to get out of bed and get dressed, Norman ended up catching his foot in the duvet and tumbled onto the floor with a heavy grunt.
‘Elise, open this door at once,’ her dad shouted.
He was rattling the door handle violently now. Elise also jumped out of bed, with considerably more grace than Norman, and threw on one of her dressing gowns.
‘Hurry up,’ she hissed at him, like a feral cat.
Norman, who was pulling on his trousers, nodded obediently. Elise ran over to the window and yanked up the pane. Her dad was now pounding on the door so hard, that Norman worried the supposedly sturdy section of wood was going to give way at any moment. He went to put on his shoes but Elise snatched them off him and shoved them into his arms instead, along with his t shirt, socks and jumper.
‘There’s no time. Do it later,’ she said frantically, beckoning him towards the window.
Norman followed her over and looked out. Handily there was a roof directly below the bedroom window, although it was a little bit of a drop. Just enough of a distance to make him apprehensive. Once more Elise seized his clothes from him and promptly threw them out of the window. The jumper, t shirt, sock bundle and one of his boots landed on the roof but the other one bounced off, spinning through the air until it landed in the garden.
‘I don’t know…it’s quite a drop,’ Norman said.
‘Elise, you have ten seconds. After that this door is coming down whether you like it or not,’ her dad shouted.
‘On second thought, I think my chances out there are better,’ Norman decided.
He swung one leg out of the window and perched momentarily on the sill. He glanced down and took a deep breath. Now that he was halfway out of the room Norman wasn’t entirely sure he could go through with the rest of it. Elise gave him a swift peck on the cheek. They locked eyes. She still looked highly agitated but there was a tinge of compassion in her eyes. It gave Norman the required confidence he needed. Gingerly, he swung the other leg over the sill so he was sat facing the early morning world.
‘Coming dad,’ Elise called and made her way to her bedroom door.
It was now or never. Norman tensed his arms, fought back the urge to scream and pushed off from the sill. He plummeted down. Miraculously, he managed to land on the roof in a semi decent crouch, although one of his knees made an alarming popping sound in the process. Shouts could be heard from upstairs. Norman straightened up and glanced back up. A second later, a big bald head appeared through the open window.
‘Oi,’ Elise’s dad roared.
‘Shit,’ Norman exclaimed, gathering up his errant clothes and boot, and hurrying to the edge of the roof.
The drop from here to the ground was shorter but he was in a panicked state and when he jumped down, he didn’t judge it quite right and after landing briefly, he lost balance and fell flat onto his front. Fortunately, it was grass but his clothes and boot, which were cradled in his arms, caused him to groan as he hit the ground.
‘I’ll kill you,’ Elise’s dad shouted from above.
Norman had no doubts about that. It was hard to tell the size of the man from just seeing his head, but the deep voice suggested there was a good chance he was a big bloke. There was a slam of a door being flung open as Norman got to his feet. As he turned around something heavy slammed into his chest, knocking him down to the ground, this time onto his back. Norman cowered, assuming it to be Elise’s dad on top of him.
‘Morning sunshine,’ Al greeted. ‘Fancy seeing you here.’
‘My ribs,’ Norman lamented.
Al pulled an apologetic face and quickly got up, recovering his duffel bag that had fallen on the ground, as well as Norman’s other boot.
‘Time to go.’
As if on cue Elise’s dad appeared in the open doorway to the back of the house. Norman had managed to get to his feet and was clutching onto the rest of his gear. Elise’s dad was actually very short but had large forearms and a burly chest. He was compact and angry looking, like a bulldog. The man was frozen to the spot, the appearance of Al confusing him momentarily.
Norman and Al capitalised on that brief delay and ran. They headed for the back of the garden, where there was a door set into the fence. Luckily, they were in a terraced house with a garden leading onto a shared alley, otherwise they would have been cornered. Elise’s dad was slower than Norman and Al, being an older man, but his apparent rage seemed to be giving him added speed.
Someone was shouting from nearby. It sounded like Lorna. As they reached the fence door, Norman had a sudden troubling thought. What if it was locked? For once though in the last twenty-four hours something appeared to go in their favour. The door was not locked. Al reached it first and hastily flipped up the latch. Elise’s dad was gaining on them. Norman could feel his heavy footfalls trembling through the ground. Al yanked open the door and the two raced through.
They emerged into the back alley and immediately Al darted right. Norman didn’t know if he knew where he was going. In fact, he was almost certain the Yorkshire lad didn’t, but he followed anyway. It didn’t matter where they were headed, the two of them just needed to outrun Elise’s dad. There was a cry and a loud thud from behind them. Norman and Al didn’t stop to find out what it was. They just kept running.
~~~
Norman and Al only stopped when they were absolutely sure they’d lost Elise’s dad. Al clearly didn’t have any qualms about getting into fights with school kids, but in regards to enraged fathers, he’d had enough sense to run instead. A few people had spotted them tearing through the neighbourhood, no doubt their attention drawn by Norman’s bare torso and feet. In the end, the two of them they chosen a nearby churchyard as an appropriate place to stop.
This was one of the few areas of Clatchdale that was quiet, it being a Monday and a normal working day for most. After they were sure the livid dad wasn’t anywhere in sight, Norman finished getting dressed. His feet ached and stung badly from where he’d been forced to run barefoot through alleys and along pavements. He couldn’t bear to look at the undersides so instead he just pulled his socks straight on, wincing loudly.
Al had wandered off somewhere out of sight. His duffel bag was on the bench they’d stopped at, so he couldn’t have gone far. It was peaceful in the churchyard. The birds were singing in the trees and although there was the noise of traffic from the nearby road, it wasn’t overly loud. Norman was grateful for the relative quietness. He felt just a little worse for wear. Although not as bad as the preceding day he still felt quite rough, and it hadn’t been the way he’d envisioned waking up after spending a night with a pretty woman.
The serene semi silence was abruptly interrupted by the sound of someone throwing up nearby. Norman now understood why Al had moved away out of sight. It went on for a while, to the point where Norman was considering to go check on Al, when he finally reappeared. He wore his customary big smile as if everything was hunky dory, but his face was gaunt and his eyes sunken, and underlined by dark bags.
‘Hell of a night,’ Al stated, sitting down next to Norman on the bench.
Norman got an aromatic whiff of tobacco, beer and vomit. He wrinkled his nose, despite knowing that he probably didn’t smell much better. They both said nothing for a little while, soaking in the mild morning and the scenic setting around them. An old woman hobbled past, carrying some flowers in her hand. Norman expected her to eye them with a look of hostility or disapproval, but instead she politely greeted them good morning and carried on her way.
They watched her shuffle over to one of the gravestones. Norman felt a twinge of guilt. He knew that the whole supposed point of religion and a church was to welcome and accept everyone, but he felt bad that he and Al were stinking up the place, figuratively and literally.
‘How do you feel?’ Norman asked.
Al was still watching the old woman, seemingly deep in thought, and didn’t appear to hear. Norman gave him a nudge and repeated the question.
‘Well, I feel slightly better than I did half an hour ago,’ he said, as if waking from a daze.
He wiped some spittle from his lip and asked Norman the same question.
‘Everything aches and I feel like death…but apart from that, swell,’ Norman replied, giving him the thumbs up.
Al chuckled croakily before breaking into a coughing fit. Norman massaged his knee. When it had made that popping noise earlier, he’d felt no pain but now it was throbbing a fair bit. He also had to keep his hands concealed in his jumper pockets as he had the shakes, due to alcohol, caffeine withdrawal or possibly both.
‘Worth it though, even if we did nearly get our heads kicked in. I don’t know how things went with you and Elise, but Lorna was wild in the sack. But then the ones with overly protective dads always are. Am I right?’ Al reflected, giving him a knowing wink.
‘…right,’ Norman stammered. ‘…part of the reason I ache so much.’
Al laughed loudly. Norman glanced at the old woman, worried she’d be offended by Al’s lack of decorum, but either she was hard of hearing or didn’t care.
‘A successful night all things considered,’ Al mused.
Some of the colour seemed to have returned to his face. Norman simply nodded. He had no idea if Al was telling the truth about him and Lorna. They’d been in separate rooms and Norman had been too sloshed to hear anything through the walls. He’d also been so passed the point that he had no idea if Elise had been wild or not.
She’d given him a compassionate kiss on the cheek upon leaving, so things must have gone well to a degree. A troubling thought entered his mind. He had no recollection of using a condom. Even ‘no sense Norman’ usually remembered to use protection, mainly because he abhorred the idea of having children. Hopefully that had made him do it out of muscle memory.
‘And it’s all thanks to this little beau…’ Al began, but trailed off.
‘What is it?’ Norman asked, observing him as he frantically searched his coat pockets.
After a minute of rummaging, Al glanced round at Norman with a despondent expression.
‘My bank card is missing.’
~~~
Norman and Al sat in one of the two greasy spoons that was located along Clatchdale high street. Norman had a black coffee and Al a tea. Usually, Norman had milk as well but his stomach wasn’t up to the challenge of lactose this morning. They were faced with two pressing concerns. One, Al had lost his bank card, meaning they were surviving on the little amount of cash he had remaining, which wasn’t much. Two, Norman was still without his backpack.
The only silver lining was the greasy spoon they were sat in. The church, although peaceful, had made both Norman and Al uneasy. For Norman it was the guilt of being disturbers of the peace, and for Al it was just being in a place of religion. He’d explained to Norman that when it came to Christianity, he had a very problematic relationship with the faith.
The other benefit of the greasy spoon was that they looked more at home here. The place was busy but occupied by tradespeople, old blokes reading the paper and a few rough looking individuals. It was the one place in town Norman and Al didn’t seem to stick out like a sore thumb.
‘So, what are we going to do?’ Norman poised, trying to distract Al’s attention away from the waitress, who he’d taken a shine to.
Unusually, Norman wasn’t interested in the waitress. He seemed to be the only one in the café. The seated patrons might as well have been a bunch of over excited dogs, with their drooling tongues hanging out of their mouths. She was flirty but a little bit bossy, which seemed to attract the men like wasps to a jam jar. For Norman though his mind seemed to be only focused on Elise, and every now and then he would gently brush the cheek she’d kissed.
‘I believe it’s time for your test young Norman,’ Al said, eventually wrenching his eyes away from the waitress.
Norman paused; his mug of coffee raised halfway to his mouth.
‘Test? What test?’
‘Well, the way I see it we have only have one course of action. We need to leave this town, preferably sooner rather than later,’ Al said, taking a gulp of tea.
‘Agreed, but what has that got to do with a test?’ Norman asked, clasping the coffee mug in his hands.
Its warmth was comforting. The waitress wandered over and flashed them a winning smile.
‘Anything else I can get you?’
‘I could murder a bacon sandwich,’ Al said, leaning casually back in his chair. ‘Norman?’
Norman shook his head impatiently, irritated by Al’s constant habit of flirting with every woman they seemed to come into contact with.
‘Brown or white?’ the waitress asked.
‘Surprise me,’ Al said playfully.
‘You got it love,’ the waitress said, and sauntered off.
Al watched her go, as did several of the other customers. Norman snapped his fingers loudly in his face.
‘Right, the test,’ Al said, returning his attention to Norman.
He leant forwards over the table and clasped his hands together, becoming very business-like all of a sudden.
‘Last night was fun and like I said at the time I didn’t mind paying your way.’
He paused, not quite sure how to go on.
‘But?’ Norman said, sensing a catch was on the horizon.
Al tugged on his earlobe.
‘I think it’s only fair you do something in return for me, considering our predicament.’
Norman sighed.
‘You want me to steal back my bag from the station guard.’
‘Actually, I was going to ask you to recover my lost card from Elise and Lorna’s house, but now you mention it that’s not a bad shout too,’ Al responded.
Norman took another sip of coffee. It wasn’t very nice. Instant and so strong that you could stand your spoon up in it. He didn’t like a weak cup but he also didn’t like having his bowels assaulted on a regular basis. The sip of coffee, which also had a slight hint of washing up liquid, was urging him to go to the toilet. However, he ignored the stomach crap. He’d already been twice and was too embarrassed to go again.
So instead, he returned his thoughts to the matter at hand, weighing up the two options. Neither were inviting prospects. The retrieval of his backpack was risky as the station guard was a representative of the law and if Norman was caught, he would most likely be handed over to the police. The other option i.e., return to Elise and Lorna’s house ran the risk of bumping into their dad, who was sure to dish out a beating.
Al’s sandwich had arrived. He thanked the waitress but didn’t pay her attention like before. Instead, he was watching Norman closely. It most definitely felt like a test. A way for him to prove himself. It was true that Al would do the other option but Norman got the impression that the Yorkshire lad had ulterior motives. He pushed his coffee away. He’d had enough. It had been necessary to make him feel more human but he’d had his fill.
It was strange. Norman could drink almost anything if it was of an alcoholic nature and when it came to food, he certainly wasn’t fussy. The little money he didn’t spend on alcohol was usually reserved for kebab vans and takeaways. Yet when it came to coffee, he suddenly became a little snobby. One of the few items he actually owned in his mum’s house was a cafetiere and although Norman was a lazy git when it came to helping out, he always made coffee for him and his mum.
‘I’ll get the card…I mean as long as you don’t mind getting my backpack?’
Al raised an eyebrow. He still hadn’t touched his bacon sandwich.
‘Why…’
He paused, smiling. Grabbing one of the cut halves of the sandwich he took a big bite out of it and flapped the remainder of it at Norman. The sight of the limp fatty bacon hanging out of it should have made Norman’s stomach even unhappier, but quite the opposite. It made him hungry all of a sudden.
‘You want to see that Elise bird again, don’t you?’ Al said.
Norman shrugged. Al took another bite, wrestling with the chewy bacon for a moment.
‘You like her.’
‘Well…yeah,’ Norman replied. ‘You like Lorna too, right?’
‘She’s alright. Was good fun granted,’ Al commented frankly, his attention returning to the waitress once more.
Norman eyed the other greasy half of the sandwich, biting his lip.
‘Just don’t get too attached. The plan is to get our stuff and split right?’ Al said, glancing at him.
Norman nodded, still staring at the bacon sandwich half.
‘So where should we meet?’
‘Hmmm, well station is out. Stealing the backpack is one thing but it would be playing it awful risky to hang around for a train afterwards. Maybe bus, but those cost. I reckon our best bet is to hitchhike. Not the most glamourous of ways to travel but free,’ Al said.
‘Hitchhiking…right,’ Norman said, not really listening.
He now felt ravenously hungry. Al finished off his first half of the sandwich and was about to start the next, when he noticed Norman’s lingering gaze. With a sigh, he pushed it across the table towards him.
‘Really?’ Norman said, elated.
Al nodded.
~~~
Norman stood in the alley behind Elise and Lorna’s house, or rather their dad’s house. His initial idea had been to approach from the front, before realising that was a foolish idea. He’d then remembered that the garden fence door had been unlocked, when he and Al had scarpered earlier that morning. Norman had been surprised he’d managed to work out how to get back. They had been running in a blind panic. He wasn’t surprised though how badly his feet hurt, having put them through the ringer.
Double checking no one was about, Norman approached the fence door. He was about to slide up the latch but ended up hesitating. Looking around, he spotted a nearby wheelbarrow. The alley he was in ran alongside a set of allotments. By a stroke of fortune no one seemed to be working in any of them, or at least no one close enough to see Norman. Wheeling the slightly rusty piece of gardening equipment over, he flipped it upside down and climbed on top of it.
He had to stand on tiptoes to see over the fence and even then, the wheelbarrow wasn’t entirely steady. However, it was just enough to glimpse over into the back garden. It was empty and quiet. Unfortunately, no Elise in sight but fortunately not her dad. Satisfied there wasn’t any danger, at least in the garden, Norman moved the wheelbarrow out the way and slid up the latch. However, when he went to pull open the fence door it didn’t budge. Thinking that perhaps it had just got stuck, he gave it a few strong tugs. No luck.
‘Balls,’ he exclaimed.
He hadn’t factored in that it would be locked but of course it made sense. After what had happened Elise and Lorna’s dad had probably padlocked the thing immediately. The man took protective parenting to a whole another level. Someone clearing their throat made Norman’s heart skip a beat. Slowly he swivelled round, instinctively flinching at the fist that was probably headed his way. Much to his surprise though it wasn’t Elise’s dad. It was Elise herself.
‘Are you mad?’ she said, glancing around covertly.
‘Hi,’ Norman said awkwardly, unable to think of anything else to say.
Elise grabbed his hand and led him away from the fence door. Norman went without protest. He knew she had some sort of pull over him and it was useless trying to resist. For one thing he didn’t want to.
‘If my dad sees you here, he will kill you,’ Elise said, pulling him into the alcove of a nearby garage.
Once again, she glanced up and down the alley, frowning pensively. They were stood very close together. Norman studied her face. Elise wasn’t wearing as much makeup as the night before, and in the clear light of day Norman realised that his initial assumption that she was older had been a mistake. He didn’t know for certain but she looked about his age, which better explained her murderous dad.
‘What are you looking at?’ she said, noticing his stare.
‘Nothing,’ Norman said, ‘It’s nice to see you again.’
He didn’t know what was going on. Elise was technically pretty but she wasn’t exactly a stunner. A little on the heavier side and her skin was quite spotty without the makeup, but he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her.
‘…erm…thanks,’ Elise said, a little taken aback.
There was a moment of silence between them before Elise managed to recompose herself.
‘What are you doing here?’
Norman scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
‘I left something here…this morning.’
‘Oh,’ Elise said, sounding a little disappointed. ‘What?’
‘My bank card, you haven’t seen it have you?’ Norman asked.
Elise shook her head. It was odd. Norman had presumed she wouldn’t be very happy to see him again, after what had transpired this morning, but her body language suggested otherwise. They’d got on the night before and he liked her. Quite a lot it turned out. He just hadn’t been aware she liked him a lot too.
‘The thing is, I’m kind of stuffed without it,’ Norman explained.
‘You’re leaving I take it?’ Elise said, playing with a hole in the bottom of her jumper sleeve.
‘Yeah, me and Al are going further west. Might check out Bristol,’ Norman replied, studying her face again.
Her expression was a bit sterner. Not severe but slightly impassive. Either she didn’t care or she was masking the fact that she was actually quite upset. He selfishly hoped, it was the second.
‘I can have a look for you. I’d invite you in but my dad is home and…’ Elise started to say.
Norman held up a hand.
‘Say no more.’
Elise nodded and they lapsed into silence once again. A middle-aged woman, wearing colourful clothing, cycled past. Norman did a double take. The bike had a basket on the front and sat inside of it was a black cat. The animal looked quite calm, content even, to be travelling in this manner.
‘Have you tried looking in the pub?’
Norman shook his head slowly, wondering why he hadn’t thought of that.
‘I could meet you there…after I’ve had a look in the house first. That is…if you’re not rushing off straightaway?’ Elise suggested.
Norman massaged one of his arms, knowing that Al wouldn’t like it. Elise was watching him expectantly. He felt a slight flutter in his stomach, and it wasn’t due to the half bacon sandwich and washing up liquid coffee he’d had earlier.
‘Yeah,’ he said softly, the words escaping his mouth of their own volition.
Elise went to brush past him but he placed a hand gently on her arm. She paused, looking up at him. Their faces were almost touching.
‘The card wasn’t the only reason I came back,’ he said quietly.
‘No?’ Elise said, almost in a whisper.
She was breathing quickly. So was he. They kissed. In the alcove of the garage entrance the two teenagers wrapped themselves around each other, and the world surrounding them melted away.
~~~
Norman was in luck. The pub was open. According to the sign on the window they served late breakfast/brunch, and were due to close shortly before reopening again in the evening. He opened the door and headed inside, with a slight spring in his step. This was impressive considering he was still having to limp everywhere, due to his sore feet. The pub was dead, despite their being breakfast and brunch on the menu.
Correction, almost dead. There was one solitary customer sat on one of the stools at the bar, conversing with the landlord. He was wearing a suit and overcoat and had short closely cropped hair. Norman headed over to them, recognising the man behind the bar from last night. The two of them caught sight of him approaching.
‘There he is,’ exclaimed the landlord.
Norman, who was smiling broadly, came to a halt. The customer had alighted from the bar stool and was watching him curiously. Norman’s smile faded. The door behind him opened and a dark-haired woman entered the pub. He turned around. She was also wearing a suit. There was nothing particular unusual about that. It was a Monday and many working people wore suits. However, something about the two sharp dressed patrons made him nervous.
‘Nothing sir,’ the woman announced.
Norman felt a hand curl around the top of his left shoulder, squeezing it ever so slightly.
‘No worries sergeant. I believe we’ve found one of the young men we’ve been looking for.’
Norman’s feelings of elated joy were suddenly shattered, replaced by a deep despair.
© [Daniel Ashby] and [Ashby Tales], [2023]. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to [Daniel Ashby] and [Ashby Tales] with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
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