Page 75 of Oz
I feel a surge of warmth and smile at him as I wait. And wait. “Hang on, that’s only one reason.”
“What?” he says, turning to open the door and letting out a tide of air that combines stale beer and cigarette smoke because Mick persists in ignoring EU regulations. He acts like he’s fucking Robin Hood, but in reality he can’t pack up himself and he’s usually too lazy or pissed to go outside.
I persist. “That’s one reason. You said there were two reasons for why it wouldn’t happen with him.”
“Did I? What a forgetful little thing I am. I’ll probably remember later.”
I look around and groan.This place looks worse every second. What was I thinking?
A great roar of laughter and cheers comes from the bar. “Well, would you look at that?” Shaun says.
“Is Mick’s wife stripping again?” I ask idly, looking round for Silas and not seeing him.Did he take one look and run back to Sloane Street checking his Rolex on the way?
“No, but she looks like she’s thinking about it,” Shaun says cheerfully. “No. Look at that.”
He steps back and my mouth falls open. Silas is standing at the bar, apparently buying a round for a group of men he appears to be playing … darts with. I watch as they clap him on the back and he steps towards the dartboard, darts in one hand and a pint in the other. I look at the men and blink.
“When did Vic get out of prison?”
“Last week. Reckon he’s making the most of his time off before he goes back in.”
“He’s not an oil rig worker,” I snipe. “What the fuck is going on here?”
Silas throws his darts to more loud cheering. He turns around and Shaun whistles. Looking up, he sees us, and a huge grin crosses his face. “Hey,” he shouts. “Come here.”
I shake my head and rush over. He hugs me and gives me a quick kiss to many catcalls but luckily no abuse. Mick’s son is gay and it’s a sure way to see his baseball bat come out from behind the bar if you say anything homophobic.
“Alright, Ozzy?” Vic says, grabbing the darts from Silas. “How you doing?”
“Fine, mate. How about you?”
“Not so bad. Enjoying the freedom before I have to start again. You’ve got a fucking good bloke here.” He leans forward and whispers, “I can’t understand a word he says though. Is he German?”
He wheels off, bouncing off the side of the jukebox as he goes. I watch his progress. “You do know he doesn’t work on the cruise liners, don’t you?” I mutter and Silas laughs.
“I figured that out after a bit. I thought at first he was in the army.”
I laugh and he grins at me before giving Shaun a smile of thanks as he hands him a pint and gives me mine.
“Cheers,” Shaun says, clinking glasses with Silas. “I’ll be glad to hand Ozzy over to you, to be honest.”
“Why?” Silas looks startled.
“Because he’s turning into a whiny little bitch.”
I shove him. “Oh, fuck off. I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.” He raises his voice in a terrible parody of mine. “Oh, London is so busy nowadays. How I long for my Cornish manor house and the peace and serenity of the Elizabethan knot garden. Blah blah wooden carvings blah blah.”
“Please don’t consider a career on the stage,” I say sourly as Silas throws his head back and laughs loudly.
He hugs me. “It’s a bit weird, isn’t it? I feel it every time I come here.”
I feel the weight of his arm on my shoulder and inhale the clean scent of him, and for the first time all day I feel centred and calm. I smile. “Don’t let Shaun bang on too much. He’ll be telling you about the day the local perv flashed him. Shaun hadn’t got his glasses on and ran after the man, trying to tell him that his belt had fallen on the ground and his coat was open.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Shaun mouths as Silas bursts into peals of laughter before persuading us into a few raucous rounds of darts.
It’s almost five o’clock when we emerge from the pub. Shaun reels off up the street towards home after promising to meet us for breakfast in the morning and after many long hugs with Silas, who he seems to have taken a real liking to.
