eager to get home and back to a cosy existence.
We continue around the station, foot after foot we let our feet guide us. There’s a dog, a giant dog. Massive. Its face the size of a human’s. I approach, Sam following me. I love dogs. ‘Can I stroke it?’ I ask the owners.
‘Yeah, sure,’ they reply.
‘What type of dog is it?’ I ask, rubbing my hand through its mane.
‘A Japanese Akita.’
I crouch down in front of it. ‘It’s gorgeous.’ I rub its face. Large wise eyes looking at me, if it could talk it could tell you the secrets of the universe. The answer to world harmony locked within those deep eyes.
‘He likes you. That’s an honour. They’re very aloof dogs.’
I look up at the woman and smile. I give the dog a final stroke and get to my feet, feeling strangely happy to have gained the approval of such a majestic creature. I smile at the owners and we walk away.
‘How nice was that dog?’ I ask Sam.
‘How big was it?’ He laughs. ‘I’m thirsty, let's get a drink.’
We walk into WHSmith and buy two bottles of Coke, clumsily exchanging money with the server as we do so. Leave the shop and sit down. Sat next to each other we watch the world pass us by. I open the bottle and bring it to my mouth. Giggles. A fit of laughter runs through me, it’s the same for Sam. Compose, lift, giggle. Finally the liquid pours into my mouth. What do I do now? Pause and think. I can feel the bubbles bursting within my mouth. Spit it out with laughter. I look at Sam. ‘I’ve forgotten how to drink.’
Sam laughs. ‘You too?’
Try again. Compose, lift, sip. Right, got that far, what next? Remember. Swallow. Coke falls down my throat, quenching a thirst I didn’t realise I had.
A woman sits next to us. Faux-fur and rouged. An aging starlet. We laugh. We can’t help it, it just flows from us. All we can see is bouffant hair and these lips. Lips jutting out of nowhere. Hold our breath to stop the laughter. It doesn’t work, I see the hair quiver with indignation. The woman rises and moves on.
Three figures are watching us. All males, their faces filled with disapproval. Watching us struggling to drink, watching us huddled together and laughing, watching us laughing for no reason, laughing at people. They watch our dilated pupils mocking the business man who drops his briefcase. With each bout of happiness that leaves us, that sends our bodies into spasms, their faces screw tighter with disgust. Looking down their noses at us.
‘BOO!’ I shout in their direction, Sam and I following this with another round of hysterics.
The group starts to move, walking past us. As they do, one speaks, his voice pompous and self-righteous. ‘Let's get away from those druggies.’
‘Ohh,’ Sam coos in mock campness.
‘Let's get away from those druggies.’ My voice mimicking the pompous voice. Laughter rips through us. Compose, lift, swallow. Click, flame inhale. A cigarette held in shaky fingers, a fat and cumbersome tube of death. Breathe in, breathe out. The smoke feels weird, hard to describe. Not unpleasant, but not exactly normal. The smoke coating the mouth with fur. Sip the drink to get rid of it, to cleanse the mouth. Smoke down to the butt and then flick the smouldering corpse away into the distance. It explodes in a firework display of orange, strangely satisfying. Beautiful in its own way. Such a glorious death.
Time to move on. We’ve grown tired of Waterloo and its constant change, life in motion. Faces never existing for more than a few passing moments. A hubbub of activity. We want some time alone, just Dom and Sam. To be the centre of our universe, not just distant satellites orbiting millions of others. We walk towards the escalator. The dog still stands there, proud, majestic. It is walked onto the mechanical stairs in front of us. Down we go. I put my hand on Sam’s back. We watch the scene in slow motion. The dog lurches forward, lead slipping from the owner’s hands, wrapping around the pram in front. Chaos. The pram pulled forwards, smashing down the escalators. It lays devastated at the bottom, the dog smug beside it. The parent's face filled shock. Gripping the child in her arms tighter, her eyes thanking God for her decision to remove the baby from the pram, her brain picturing the alternative ending. Sam and I turn away, bite back laughter. A life could have been injured, lost, and all we can do is laugh about it.
‘I wanna return to the station. I don’t think I can deal with that dog,’ Sam whispers to me.
We step off at the bottom, sidestep the argument between owner and mother, and take the escalator up to the main concourse, we let the laughter out. Wait five minutes and then descend. The events that happened now past history, forgotten. The new faces who share the escalator with us unaware of what happened only a few minutes earlier. A memory amongst the other memories locked into the fabric of this underground lair.
Step off at the bottom and walk a few paces. The gallop of feet. Surely not. I turn, running towards me is the dog. It jumps up, playfully fighting. I stroke it, rough up its face with my hands. The owner joins us. ‘He waited for you,’ she says. ‘Refused to move on until he saw you.’
‘Really?’ I reply, bewildered by the statement, the dog gnawing at my arm.
‘Once you befriend a Japanese Akita, you’re friends for life.’
People watching with puzzled looks in their eyes. Watching the dog jump up at me. I scan for Sam and see him in the distance. My eyes call out for him as my hands and arms continue to wrestle the dog to the ground. An image in my head, an image that the dog is savagely attacking me and in my mind I’m laughing and playing with it. Huge chunks of flesh being torn out and, to the bemusement of everyone, I stand there laughing and smiling. Look down at my arms, no red stains the bright green. Play fighting. Man and dog playing, new friends, friends for life.
I see Sam’s eyes calling for me to move on, so I push the dog down and say ‘goodbye’ to both the wise faced beast and its hippy-like owner. I run over to Sam alone.
‘Apparently it waited for me,’ I say, a huge smile on my face.
‘It looked like it was attacking you.’
‘I had a brief moment of fear that it was.’ I laugh. We move on.
We walk in a different direction to the dog, Sam not wanting another meeting with it. Through the ticket barriers and onto the escalator. Going deeper, further from the open air. Closer to Hell than Heaven.
At the bottom we join the crowds. Next to me I hear a gurgle. A low gluttonous rumble after I accidentally knock into someone. I spin my head round and look. Dead eyes stare back. Dead eyes on a waxen face, jaw slit and hanging limp, tongue rolling forward, falling to the right of the severed mouth. The noise continues. Deep, gluttonous anger. The sound of a soul in torment. I jump, look round for Sam, and when my eyes return there is no one there. No creature, no noise. I can feel my heart pounding, feel my hand grip Sam’s arm. ‘Did you see that?’ I ask him.
‘See what?’ Obviously he hadn’t.
We walk onto the platform and sit. Back against cold steel. Wait for the train in silence, the claustrophobia rising. Don’t think about it. Hearing muffled. Just focus on your breathing. Ignore everyone else except Sam. He’s all you need.
Muffled voices clog my ears. A mass of indistinguishable noise. Pad, pad, pad. The sound of padded feet cutting through clearly. Surely not. The vibrations of a wise brain searching for a friend. I touch Sam’s arm. My ears locating the sound, I point in its direction. We look. The dog approaching slowly down the platform, its eyes searching. Slowly we stand. Walk to the nearest exit, double back and then re-emerge. Looking down the platform again we see our escape went unnoticed. The dog sitting at the same point we’d been at. It sits waiting. Stand behind people, stay out of sight. Wait silently for the train to arrive. It soon does and we climb on. A different carriage, pray it doesn’t walk down into this one. The doors close. We move on. No dog. Escaped.
Sat opposite us is a couple, male and female
, obviously in love. They sit so close to each other, looking longingly into each other's eyes. One hand locked in the grip of the other. Their bodies surrounded by a glow. A warm glow, a beacon of love. I cast my eyes around the carriage. Couples sat together, bodies close, a look in their eyes, a glow encompassing their bodies, a warm glow. Beacons of love offering hope and brightness to those out of love around them. I wonder if Sam and I have the glow surrounding us. It’s impossible to see how you look together as your view is always one sided, connected. You can’t step out of your body to look. I look at our reflection in the window opposite but can see no glow surrounding us, don’t let that get you down. Mirrored images are only reflections of the truth, what you see isn’t what others do.
My eyes return to the couple opposite. I know Sam’s eyes are focused on them, I know he’s thinking what a sweet couple they make. They look forward at us. The man has a bruised eye. How did he get that? My mind creating a life for an unknown.
‘Look at that bruise,’ I say to Sam, obviously too loud as another voice answers. The couple are talking to us.
‘I got assaulted earlier in the week,’ the male. As he speaks the female looks at him, squeezes his hand. Love.
‘I’ve never been so worried,’ she says looking back at us. ‘It was so pointless, unprovoked.’
‘That’s horrible,’ Sam’s voice. I can’t speak. Sam continues, ‘But you’re okay now ain’t you?’
‘Yeah,’ the female. ‘I don’t know what I would have done if it had been more serious.’
They look at each other, love in their eyes, love oozing from every pore of their bodies. A love for each other, the centre of each other’s world.
‘You two should take care of each other,' the male says as the train slows to a stop. The doors open and they get off.
I look at Sam, he looks at me. We smile. Love in our eyes, love oozing from every pore in our body. I’ll always take care of you. For the first time I think I caught sight of the glow, a brief fleeting glimpse of a warm orange. A beacon of love encompassing us.
I’ll always care for you, no matter what I’ll always be there for you. A stranger saw the love we have and un-disgusted by it told us to take care of each other. A stranger saw what we have, saw our glow. Our love shining out for all to see. True love is eternal. My soul is yours. You’re locked into my heart. Sam, my Sam. No one can replace you.
Another glimpse, at the corner of my eye, I quickly squeeze his hand and look forward, a smile still on my lips. A glow of warmth. A beacon of love offering hope and happiness to those around us.
We’re back in Sam’s room. It’s dark, we only have the standing lamp providing us light. It stands in the far corner, its rays only just reaching us. Long shadows and dark corners wherever you look. We’re laying on the bed, locked in a hugged embrace. Sam’s head resting on my chest.
‘Did you see that couple’s glow?’ I ask him.
I feel his head move, he’s looking up at me. ‘Yeah. It was so cool. You could tell they really cared for each other. That’s what you call love.’ A pause. ‘Dom, do you think we have a glow around us?’
‘I hope so. I mean we must have something, they seemed to guess we were together.’
‘I hope so too.’ Sam’s body rises slightly as he moves up closer to me. Our arms tighten our grip on each other. His lips brush mine.
‘I love you, you know that don’t you?’
‘Yeah.’ As the answer leaves Sam’s lips, the room around us brightens slightly then fades. Sam feels my body tense. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Did you see that?’
‘See what?’ He looks at me in mild confusion.
‘Watch what happens when I tell you I love you.’
‘Okay.’
‘I love you.’
The room brightens as the words flow from my lips. Sam smiles. Happiness. ‘We have a glow. I fucking love you.’ He pulls me tight. The room forever getting brighter, a glow of love emanating from us. We hug, embracing, a physical representation of our emotion. We kiss. Happiness. We’ve been small parts in many peoples lives this evening but now, here, alone, we’re both centres. Only focused on each other. Sam, the centre of my world. My everything. Impossible to imagine a life without him.
A call from upstairs cuts through the air. As we pull apart the glow fades. Sam smiles. ‘That’ll be dinner.’ He leaves, I hear muffled voices above me, a muffled happiness floating between the levels. He returns, two bowls in his hands. Beef curry and rice. The smell warm and appetising. We sit up and bring the food to our lips. We giggle and put the forks down.
‘Forgotten how to eat?’ I say between laughs.
‘Yep. You?’
‘Yeah.’
Slowly we work our way through the food, enjoying it more with each mouthful. Our bellies filling, a hunger gradually being recognised. Place the empty bowls on the floor and fall back onto the bed. Side by side, faces turned to each other. Smiling. We’re always smiling.
‘You know what?’ I ask.
‘What?'
‘I don’t care if people can’t see our glow. I love you and that’s all that matters to me.’
‘I love you too.’ He snuggles up against me. ‘I’ll always love you.’
‘I know. I’ll always love you too.’ A promise spoken out into the silence, witnessed by all the faces and figures locked within the posters which paper the walls. An unbreakable promise.
‘I know.’
SIX
First of July
Two Thousand and Five
I
Am I dreaming? I can rarely tell sometimes these days. Either way, awake or asleep, we’re on the Underground. Sam and I sat on a train waiting, looking at each other, saying nothing. The train stops, we rise and exit. We stand on the station, there are no lights, yet through the gloom we can see its gothic architecture. There’s a quiet fear running through everyone, crowds of people rushing, pushing, screaming. Air thick, noise all around echoing through the darkness, yet the fear remains silent, silent like death.
We follow the crowds calmly as they pile onto the escalators. Only upwards escalators in this place. Escalators crammed full of people, nowhere to run, nowhere to escape. Up we go, the escalators long, cutting through five levels, five floors to be passed. Five empty floors. People step off at each one only to disappear into the darkness, black chasms, two steps into the dark and it’s too late. The darkness lies, its black tendrils deception. Hidden holes leading to the pits of Hell lay on these levels, the fading screams pierce the air, agitating the fearful cattle we share these mechanical stairs with.
We’re nearing the top, the final floor. A groan of panic ripples down the line. We look up to see its cause. A massive wall. A solid brick wall, our destination nowhere, no escape. The black holes on the other levels obviously the only way of a salvation. Before us bodies crush bodies, lives extinguished like dominos, one crashing against another. I jump, somehow I manage to jump, somehow I manage to scale the wall. Escape is always dependent on how much you really want it. Now begins the torment.
I stand on top of the wall, which actually stretches off into the distance as a vast empty space. I stand here alone. Below me is pandemonium and not a glimpse of Sam. I’ve lost him. In my panic I run, searching to find the control switch I can sense is in this space. I see it, a man stands there. An Underground attendant. I fly at the switch but he stops me.
‘What are you doing?’ he asks calmly.
‘You’ve got to switch off the escalators, they’re dying down there.’
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Didn’t you hear me? Switch them off.’ I’m close to tears. ‘Switch them off, they’re dying.’
The man’s hand flicks the switch and the hum of the escalator stops, the crying still echoing through the air. He grabs me by the arm and leads me back. ‘What are you all doing h
ere?’ he shouts, his voice booming down the escalator tunnel, bringing with it instant silence. ‘This station is closed, you shouldn’t be in here.’
At his command the cattle climb up out of the tunnel, heading towards the designated exit. I’m swept along by the crowd. Outside everyone queues, waiting for their partners, when they see them they embrace joyously. I walk, searching, looking for Sam. I can’t see him anywhere, a deep loneliness runs through me. My feet break into a run. Running through the crowds, praying to God that I find him. Where the fuck is he? Please don’t say he fell.
A flash, a bright flash, a camera flash. I stop. Another one. I focus on its direction and locate its source. A group of people all laughing and joking, not a single care in the world, and there at their centre is Sam. Sam the physical centre of their worlds. I walk towards them and reach out for him.
‘Where the fuck have you been? I’ve been looking for you,’ I say, my hand gripped around his arm.
‘Oh, you know, I’ve just been here with my mates.’ He smiles at them.
‘You didn’t wait for me like all the others are doing for their partners.’
‘Oh sorry,’ he sneers sarcastically. ‘But I was having fun over here with my friends.’
‘And you didn’t even stop to notice me missing? And besides, you don’t even know these people.’
‘What? So now you’re jealous because I can make all these new friends.’
‘Whatever Sam. I’m going, you coming?’ I haven’t got time for an argument.
‘Yeah, okay,’ he sighs.
I turn, I’m not going to start shouting, not here, not now. The exit to the main road is a hill, so I begin to climb it. When I reach the top I’m alone. My eyes flick down to another camera flash. There he stands, laughing and joking with the group. Not a single thought about me, our conversation forgotten within seconds. I turn and carry on walking.
II
I have no idea of how long I’ve been walking, I just let my legs guide me as my brain zoned out, trying not to replay the conversation which just took place. It hurts too much to think about it. Hurts too much to know that he valued the company of strangers above me, that he didn’t even worry if I was okay or not.
I look around me. I’m in some grotty little alley, either side of it lined with brothels and gambling dens, the bottom of the alleyway blocked off by a metal gate. I walk towards it, my mind oblivious to all the noise going on around me. Eyes look upon me, watching, wanting. Clients waiting for me to say three words, ‘looking for service?’ Let them watch, I’m out of their league, my fee too expensive for this clientele. My eyes cast down towards my arm, vicious track marks bruise along the veins, dark shadows, needle pricks peppering the paleness of my skin.
A fat man is thrown out of a club, he brushes against me as he stumbles. As he scrabbles to his