“I’m going to trust your judgement and go with the same.” Frank hoped he was being flattering. Suddenly Mario appeared with the wine, then with a silent smile he poured them two glasses. Once done he placed the still half full bottle in the centre of the table and drew out his small note pad.
“So what can I get the lovely couple to eat?”
“Oh Mario, can I get two lots of your meatballs in special sauce with a basket of garlic bread, please come back afterwards to see if we can fit in a pudding too.” Frank was impressed, she didn’t seem afraid to order big. Twenty minutes later both finished with their meals and had just finished drinking a third bottle of wine. Frank was beginning to feel a little more than a bit tipsy. Mandy also had a slightly drunken grin on her face despite the fact Frank hadn’t actually seen her drink much. Then the questions started coming.
“So Frank, how come you’re not married with kids yet?” She asked.
“Oh I don’t know, haven’t met the right person or if I had it just never seemed to be on the table in that relationship,” he answered honestly.
“Yeah sounds a little like my story, most guys just want to have a good time then leave the morning after, though I have at time thought about just using them for a child.” Frank went a little wide eyed. “Don’t worry Frank I was just joking on that last bit.” She broke that lovely smile at him.
“I guessed as much but surely a beautiful woman like you can have the pick of who she wants at any time?” He asked. She frowned a little.
“Being good looking can also attract a lot of the bad types, Frankie,” she countered.
“Guess so, well sorry you haven’t met the right guy,” he said, a little embarrassed.
“I don’t know, are you the right guy Frank?”
Frank went to answer but it came out as a squeak as he suddenly felt a shoeless foot stroke gently from the ankle of his leg to mid-thigh. He looked at her for quite a while before his mouth started working again.
“I would like to think I’m a stand-up guy,” he managed to squeeze out. Her foot moved right to his groin area. He didn’t know what to do or think and mini Frank was starting to like the attention.
“Something has certainly stood up Frank, so would you like dessert or would you like to come back to mine for afters instead?” Mini Frank won the war there.
“I think we should pay the bill and get the next taxi,” he replied, grabbing his coat. Frank paid the bill while Mandy went outside. Mandy blurted her address to the driver as soon as they got into the vehicle. The ride to her place was quite eventful with her rubbing and kissing him all over in the back of the car. Frank even once or twice caught the taxi driver eyeing them both in the rear view mirror.
Four
Mandy unlocked her house door, quickly dragging the inebriated Frank inside. She kissed him long and deeply as they stumbled down the hallway. They then slowly made their way upstairs discarding a few items of clothing along the way. Frank was topless by the time they got into the bedroom. Mandy was in her skirt and bra as they both collapsed onto the bed kissing more enthusiastically. When Mandy stopped and pushed him back a little.
“Don’t worry Frank nothing's wrong,” she said, seeing his worried expression. “I just need to go make sure everything’s in order before we go any further.”
“Sure you do what you need to,” he told her. Little Frank was screaming out at him at this.
“Well, please make yourself more comfortable while I’m away.” She turned and left to her en-suite bathroom.
As soon as the door shut behind her Frank leapt up from the bed. He whipped his trousers and underwear off in one swift motion. He then danced around in a wide circle as he tried to remove his socks. The first came off easy then as he span around the second sent his alcohol fuddled mind spinning as he tried to remove it.
Suddenly Frank lost his footing. He careened towards Mandy’s closet door, slamming into it with his full body weight, back first. With a crack of splintering wood Frank fell backwards, with the door now at his back straight to the floor. Hurt and dazed he lay there a moment. Then shaking his head to clear the dizziness his mind dismayed at the situation. Magically he hadn’t seemed to hurt himself in the tumble at all, other than a few bruises that would show in the morning.
Little Frank deflated instantly as the realisation that all this was probably over, not just for tonight probably forever.
“Frank, what the hell was that?” Mandy’s voice shouted.
“Shit, nothing Mandy I just tripped,” he shouted back worried by the situation. He reached up to the table by his one side and used it to lift himself up. Suddenly as his eye level came equal to the table’s top they went wide as he took in a deep shocked breath.
There on the table top was what he suspected were strange arcane symbols from some religion he didn’t recognise. However this wasn’t what disturbed him the most: there was what looked like a bowlful of viscous, red liquid that he heavily suspected was blood. Candles also lined the table along with heady smelling grasses and mosses with strange coloured crystals scattered around.
Then taking pride of place in the centre of the table with symbols painted on it possibly with the same red liquid in the bowl was a picture of him. It looked like it had been taken at some point he in the office when he wasn’t looking.
“Oh dear, Frank I wish you hadn’t seen that, this does complicate things…” Came Mandy’s now rather stern voice.
“What the hell is all this Mandy?” He cried out.
“Well Frank, you see I’m not everything you think I am,” she said, no humour in her voice anymore.
“You’re telling me! Are you crazy?” Frank asked, standing fully. He was taken aback when viewing Mandy as she was now stood there totally naked.
“This isn’t madness Frank its survival and I am sorry, I was going to make love to you before you found this out as a sort of compensation for your trouble,” Frank was heavily puzzled now.
“I thought you liked me Mandy, please what is going on?” Frank just stood dumbstruck as she stepped towards him still in all her beautiful nakedness.
“You really don’t think a woman like me could fall in love with man like you do you Frank?” She sneered evilly. Frank gulped back an involuntary lump of fear.
“What the hell is going on? Is this some kind of office prank?” Frank asked in a last ditch attempt.
“I’m afraid not Frankie, you see I know I’m beautiful but I had to make sure you fell in love with me. This is witchcraft, I used a number of spells to make you follow me like a lap dog, you see it’s a special time of year and we need you darling,” though there was no love in the darling at all.
“Why? What do you need me for?” He balled his fists in anger. This just made Mandy’s grin wider.
“Well you see everyone who works at the office is in our cult Frank, yes even your old friend he’s our newest inductee,” she reached across to the table grabbing something.
“Screw this, I’m getting out of here.” Frank leapt up. Even in his nakedness he wasn’t staying for one more minute of this madness. In a swift motion Mandy took a deep breath and blew a musty powder in his face. He was angry and his eyesight went blurry, lashing out at the vague form of the woman he had recently been infatuated with, he felt the strength sap from his body.
Mandy, adding injury to insult, kneed the poor man in the groin and then smacked him hard in the face with quite a hard punch that sent him flat on his back. Frank couldn’t resist the musk or the pain anymore and passed out into a blissful rest.
Five
Pain was the first thing Frank felt as he came around from whatever Mandy had done to him. His balls ached and his face throbbed from the blows they had both received. His arms were tied wide apart and his feet together. Opening his eyes, Frank surveyed his surroundings in abject terror. There stood in the masses were all the faces he recognised from the office and even some he didn’t. Then a familiar face stepped from the throng, it was hi
s old friend Kyle.
“Hi Frank, sorry about this but it’s either you or me,” he said, with a little sorrow evident.
“Please Kyle, this has to be some kind of joke, why are you all doing this?” He still hoped beyond all belief that this was still some kind of prank or office initiation. Then Mandy stepped from his blind spot dressed in a blood red robe.
“I’m afraid it isn’t Frank and now you’re going to die, for our good. Your death gives our company and all of us a prosperous year to look forward too, in work as well our love lives,” she said. She cracked that smile he had liked except now it looked so evil and contorted on her face. Frank started to struggle against his bonds and scream. Kyle looked terrified as Mandy put a large sharp blade in his hand.
“Come now initiate Kyle, cut his heart out and bring us all prosperity and love for the next year!”
She turned to Frank.
“As for you Frank, you can scream all you like as no one will come and help you now. Your fate is sealed so just accept it!” She stepped up and kissed him on the cheek, as Kyle with a new vigour came towards Frank brandishing the blade.
Along the moors, only faintly heard if you were close enough, screams came from deep within a secret coven cave beneath a large very old oak tree.
D. C. Rogers © 2014
Bonded
My love now comes
As time touches night
Heart so pure
Dressed in white
Unadorned perfection
Places kisses so soft
Visits most plentiful
Awaiting the dark
Always here for me
Soulful looks deep
Holding and wanting
Together we weep
Time passes quickly
Sun brings the morn’
Until tonight, my ghost
Again, you have gone
William O’Brien © 2014
A Latte to Go
By Chris Raven
Trevor was on his way home from work when he found himself looking through the coffee shop window again. He was trying to catch a glimpse of that gorgeous red-headed barista while he nonchalantly walked past, which was no easy task as he had to weave in and out of the tables and chairs that were set up on the pavement outside. It had been during a lunch break with a work colleague a few days earlier that Jan had caught Trevor’s eye and he had not been able to think about anything else ever since.
Despite his manoeuvrings, Trevor was unable to get close enough to the window to peer inside past the large roughly drawn picture of a coffee cup with ‘Clio's’ written in red upon its side, with its three wiggly lines rising above it like steam.
Clio's Coffee was situated on the ground floor of the residential block in which Trevor worked as concierge. Its deep brown wood framed shop front, orange and cream striped awing and the broad shop sign with ‘Clio’s Coffee’ blazoned in bold orange lettering gave the whole establishment a warm and friendly atmosphere. A marked difference, so Trevor had been told, to the ‘greasy spoon’ that had occupied that spot just a few years earlier.
As Trevor weaved in and out of the chairs he knocked into one of the tables giving himself a sharp pain in his thigh and causing a white coffee cup to rattle briefly in its saucer, a smaller twin to the one painted on the window. Taking this as a sign, Trevor gave up on the 'fly-by' strategy and he decided to throw caution to the wind. Using the giant coffee cup as cover, he pressed his face against the window, cupping both his hands around his face to block out his own reflection.
From outside the coffee shop’s interior looked dark and warm with its brown wooden decor and soft lighting. Behind each of the two large plate windows on either side of the entrance were large low coffee tables and behind each of these were a deep brown comfy leather sofa, each one looking out into the street. Trevor chose to ignore the startled looks from Mr and Mrs Oswald, a couple that lived upstairs, who were sitting on the sofa opposite him. Mr Oswald was sipping from a large steaming coffee mug, which he almost dropped into his lap in surprise. His wife Celia just placed her cup of herbal tea back in its saucer and gave Frank a quizzical look.
The coffee shop was very busy for a Friday and Trevor had trouble making out who was serving. He scanned the half dozen or so tables set against the wall opposite, which was covered in pictures of famous Hollywood movie stars from the 1950’s, most of whom Trevor did not recognise apart from Marilyn Monroe, Elizabeth Taylor and the one with the eyes. As he glanced back towards the counter again, Trevor’s eyes met with Marcello’s, the flamboyant Italian sounding Barista who also lived in the block above. He was heading towards the shop door when he noticed Trevor staring at him through the window.
Faced with Marcello’s puzzled look, Trevor decided to bluff it out and attempted to enter the coffee shop as if it was what he had intended to do all along. As he turned towards the door he fell over the red mobility scooter that was trying to enter the shop at the same time, causing the large dishevelled middle aged woman who was clumsily steering it to scream out in fright.
*****
Marcello had gone to open the door for Mrs Maclusky, a disabled regular at the coffee shop, only to find Trevor, draped over her mobility scooter’s wire basket. The angry Mrs Maclusky was complaining bitterly while she prodded Trevor with her podgy fingers.
“Dios mío! Trev mate," he said, laughing in his workplace Italian accent. “Is this a raid or something?” Trevor untangled himself from the basket and ran round the scooter to retrieve his security guard’s cap, which had flown off in the collision and landed underneath one of the tables. Mrs Maclusky continued to shout at him and tried to kick him with a faded pink fluffy slipper-clad foot as he passed her.
“No man, just trying to get a coffee that’s all," he explained, as he straightened the cap on his closely shaved head, standing just out of reach of the woman’s potential furry kicks. She on the other hand had taken a packet of cigarettes from the basket and was lighting one up as she angrily reversed away from the doorway.
“Well I never!" She complained and sped away, just missing Trevor’s feet. She accelerated down Calliope Street, cigarette smoke billowing out behind her as she went.
*****
Trevor hadn’t managed to enter the coffee shop that day. By the time the woman in the scooter had shot off, Jan had already arrived at the door. She was laughing with Marcello and asking him what had happened. Trevor quickly waved and headed off in embarrassment before Marcello had a chance to tell her.
The following day, over an early dinner with his family, Trevor’s mother asked him what was wrong.
“Nothing Muman," he told her, using the term for mother she and her father had brought with them from Granada some thirty-five years earlier. “I’m just tired that’s all, it’s this run of night-shifts." His mother just looked at him the way she always did when she wasn’t buying anything he was telling her.
“Eh-eh,” she scolded. “There’s something going on with you sweet-pea, you’ve not been right for days.” Trevor’s father continued to read the paper at the table and tried to ignore the whole conversation.
“It tem bad-eye Booboomen where he work,” Trevor’s grandfather chipped in from his faded comfy armchair in the next room. He had always claimed to be a spiritual leader ‘back home’ and as a result he was always attributing any misfortune to ghosts, spirits and of course ‘booboomen’.
“There’s no such thing as ghosts!” Trevor called back, “I don’t know why you have to keep going on about it.”
“Should never have taken that job is all," was his grandfather’s short reply. "There bad béké obeah there boy."
“Babu!” Trevor’s mother’s impatiently scolded her father’s interruption, before turning back to Trevor with a mixture of excitement and concern. “What is it then?” She asked.
“There’s a dawta he got his eye on,” his grandfather chipped in again and Trevor’s reaction told his mother everything she needed to kno
w.
“Oh gosh!” She exclaimed happily as she reached over to pinch Trevor’s cheek. “Who is she and what is she like?”
“There’s no one Muman," Trevor protested, deftly dodging his mother’s fingers with the skill that came from years of practice, "and anyway, I’ve got to leave for work."
Trevor left the table and got ready for work. Taking the hint, his mother just sighed while his grandfather continued to laugh in the next room.
“You just stay true to yourself child,” she managed to say as Trevor disappeared out of the front door.
*****
Trevor was a little early for work that evening, so he decided to pop into the coffee shop on his way in, hoping to see Jan. His plan was to grab a table which would set him up to start a more substantial conversation than his usual 'large latte please Jan'. When Trevor arrived he found Mrs Maclusky trying to manoeuvre her way out through the shop doorway, unnoticed by Marcello and co-workers. Red faced, flustered, and muttering under her breath, she was finding it impossible to reach the door handle from where she sat in her scooter. Trevor held the door open for her on his way in, allowing her to squeeze past. She still gave him a filthy look but at least on this occasion she kept her fluffy pink slippers to herself.
*****
It being a Saturday afternoon, the coffee shop was very busy and all the tables were taken. Trevor joined the queue at the counter and watched the other customers sitting at the twelve round, silver-topped tables. The posh couple from the seventh floor and two middle-aged women, one fat and one thin, were in what looked like an intense conversation with Henry, the old boy from the third floor. Trevor had no idea what they were talking about; he was just irritated that they were using three whole tables between the five of them. This had left Trevor with nowhere to sit and to make matters worse, Jan was on the shop floor wiping down tables and so he wouldn't be able to get close enough to even just say hello.
"Hello Trevor, you want the usual?" Trevor turned to the server behind the counter, a tall woman in her mid-forties.
“Yes please Felicia,” Trevor said, “a latte." He looked around again at the busy coffee shop and briefly caught Jan's eye. She offered him a warm smile, which he bashfully returned. Standing there, waist deep in a sea of silver tables and chairs, Trevor knew he had lost his opportunity to speak with her today. He turned back to face Felicia.