Luckily the second pub she tried had a fair sprinkling of youngish clients, many of whom turned out to be students. Easy to talk to, willing to chat, and point her in the direction of the best club in town.
And it wasn’t half bad!
OLD SKOOL REGGAE NITE said the posters. Could be worse, thought Ayesha with a smile, getting well into the mood as the DJ spun the likes of Desmond Dekker, Max Romeo, Dave & Ansil Collins, Dandy Livingstone and Carl Douglas. Her fellow clubbers seemed a mixture of nerdy students and local Neanderthals, with one from each group attaching themselves to her.
Guess I’ve pulled, sort of, she thought, feeling more than a little superior. This was okay, even enjoyable, but was Church Hall stuff compared to London.
“Where’re you from then?” asked Tony, his two active brain cells straining to string together a sentence.
“Well, I was born in Swansea, so that makes me Welsh, but I’ve lived most of my life in London, so I feel more English.”
“That’s a dangerous admission in this neck of the woods,” said Martin with a laugh. “Another drink? My round.”
“Thanks. I’ll have the same again.”
“And a pint of lager for me,” added Tony, who then leant forward to whisper as Martin made his way to the bar. “Let’s dump him after the drinks, and you and me go party on our own.”
“Steady on, big boy,” said Ayesha with a laugh. “The night is young and my mind is not yet made up.” She was quite amused, throughout the evening, as Tony tried to get her on his own while Martin clung on like a limpet. This was only her first night in Newport though. She didn’t have to jump straight into bed with either. Or, putting it another way, by playing it carefully she could have them both, but different nights would be preferable.
“Give me both your numbers,” she said when deciding it was time to call it a night. “I’ll ring before the week is up and we can arrange something else.”
Tony blustered a bit while Martin quietly complied. Then Tony did so too. “I could walk you to your hotel,” he offered while giving her the beer mat with both their mobile numbers scribbled on.
“It’s no distance, and I really do need to get some sleep. It’s been a busy day.”
Outside the club, she gave them both a peck on the cheek and left them standing there. It wasn’t far to go but at this late hour the streets were quite deserted.
Then: “Ayesha! Wait!”
She turned, surprised. It had crossed her mind that Tony, the Newportonian Neanderthal, might try to catch up with her before she reached the hotel, but it was nerdy student Martin she saw hurrying towards her.
“Well, well, Martin!” she exclaimed as he pushed her into a shop doorway, thinking that a good old fashioned snog might be a pleasant way to end the night. Then she saw the knife in his hand!
The disabling spell she automatically threw meant nothing with her powers suspended but as Martin stabbed at her, so Tony suddenly appeared from nowhere, forcing himself between the two of them and taking the knife in his own chest. As it struck him, so he disintegrated into dust.
She could hear footsteps running and heard Mister Mo’s voice shouting. Martin, his face deadpan, aimed another stroke at her heart, but before the blade reached her he froze like a statue.
Easing her way past the immobile Martin and out of the shop doorway, Ayesha could see that Mister Mo was also trapped in the frozen field. There was only one other person in sight, the old Big Issue seller, and he was still moving.