the Cobbe house vii the last meeting of the Flunky club

Bridgeton train station never really deserved the name. It was built in 1864, and torn down 100 hundred years later, then moved a mile of so east. As I stood there and looked up, it was clear that it was in decline. It could be best described as an iron bridge platform; unprotecting anyone from the elements, save for a single, tired looking yellow painted, wooden shack, that had a red painted roof; both of which were peeling and in need desperate need of attention.  The shack stood on the left hand side of the platform, which in turn straddled the river; and divided the town. The platform led to two flights of wooden steps, that descended in a zig-zag fashion from the bridge platform down to the ground level,  that clicked and clacked from over use  towards  the narrow shack like   ticket office, where a  tired looking, pug nosed,  round faced, grey walrus moustachioed ticket collector, stood, plucking at the tickets, that were given to him; and at the same time shouted out, though bellowed would be more accurate, where the next train was coming from, or going to,  in his broad New England accent.

 I recall that the September sun hung low in the sky. it shimmered like an angry ball between folds of Iron clouds; giving no heat. A cold north easterly whipped the commuters as they made their way down to the ground in waves.

 I then saw Nell like a bird of paradise full of colour, flighty and light, amid the mass of beige hat’s and the grey or black coats of the early evening, writhing sea of humanity, as it battled and desperately fought for freedom through a single gate in front of me.

As I saw her and waved. For a second she didn’t see me.  In that second I could admire how truly beautiful she had become. Her hair bobbed around her now elfin features, her sea green
eyes, wide open full of life and glittering with excitement were astonishing. I felt my mouth dry and a stirring that I didn’t expect.  Then she saw me she gave an impish grin and like a bird darted between grey masses who looked tired and weary from life’s
cruel jokes.   I came towards  the ticket collector who made no register of my appearance. Then as Nell handed her ticket over; he grabbed her hand and held it in a vice like grip.

‘You think that you can defeat ME?’ the collector spat; his eyes wide. It ahd appeared.

Nell, tried to pull away from his grip but he held her hand tighter.

‘Every ittle thought…every little dream…I’m here, there and everywhere in-between.’

I went to take her hand; it was clear that the darkland was spreading. Nell looked visibly shaken.

‘You didn’t defeat me twenty years ago!  an you AINT GONNA DO IT NOW!’  the words were forced on arcs of putrid smelling spittle, that riddled the evening air. Then suddenly he let go and was himself again.

I took Nell’s arm, who looked decidedly shaken.

‘It’s going to get worse.’

She gave a side nod, and then grinned again.

‘so where’s Circie?’

‘I expect at Repperton’s...The only bar in town.’

Repperton’s looked more like a shack from the outside that a bar.  Inside, despite the fact that  Elvis Presley’s “Heartbreak hotel” was booming from the Juke box;   it was clear that Repperton’s  had seen better days, it’s wooden veneered walls
were need a polish from the collection of dust that had gathered in the nooks. The ceiling, had yellowed with tobacco stain. 
The bar was to the left of the entrance, and to the right and in the half-light inglenooks with tables set into them, gave the impression of life.   Only the stools along the bar made from oak and plumped up with horse hair, and covered with a mixture of black horsehair and pink cotton shone as if new. The place was rich with the smell of old tobacco and beer.

I saw Circe within  the far side inglenook straight away.   She smiled sadly down and away from me, yet still raised her hand. I noticed that even in the half light of the bar, she was wearing far too much makeup I didn’t realise why until we moved closer and noted the puffiness of her features. I was going to say something, then Nell squeezed my arm, and our minds, as they used to do left images, that need not be discussed here, but can be inferred.   Next to her, sat a tall gangly looking boy with a narrow face; whose eyes were fixed on the table in front of him.  We walked over and greeted each other warmly.

‘This is Daniel’  Circie smiled gently.  

‘its  nice to meet you Daniel.’  Nell spoke warmly and held out her hand. 

Daniel looked down and rocked slightly.

‘It’s a new environment and a little loud for him.’  Replied Circie, as we settled in the seats around the table.

Behind me the entrance to the bar slammed open and a man I barely recognised came in.  However, he recognised us right away.

‘Well.. if it isn’t the flunky club, gathered for one last meeting I bet.’  Stephen Brinks drawled from sneering lips.

Nell smiled.

‘Its nice to know that we’re still remembered.’ Her words were terse, which with sarcasm and an intonation that sounded like an insult. It was clear she was talking to him as if he was a child.

Stephen who failed to see the comment, drawled on.

‘loooky here, Circe had a child….looks like an idiot to me.’

‘Ayah, but I don’ don’ bleed in the bowl when I dump. Dump dump.’  Daniel mutterd as he rocked.

Stephen’s face paled a bit at Daniel’s remark.

‘-Man got little time left to breath here.’  Daniel retorted as he rocked harder.

‘Daniel!’ Circie snapped as Stephen looked at the table we sat at and sneered.

‘Flunky club, was all you were an’ all you be.’  The he turned on me.

‘I gonna wait for you outside and finish the job off.’ he spat tersely and in the half-light of the bar his glassy eyes glittered with rage. 

It again had come.

‘who’s  the boy? Seems he needs my special touch? Perhaps I’ll come to him first and –‘

‘Enough!’
Circie leapt up from her chair. ‘ I’m sick of you! you hear me! Sick of all you’ve done here! We are coming for you!’

It smiled though Stephen’s eyes coldly. Then the room became cooler as Its presence filled the room. Light’s in the bar ceiling dimmed.  The music slowed to an ugly drawl.  It’s eyes took hold of Stephen. They glittered with hate.

‘Looking forward to it dearie!’  it hissed as it turned.

Then suddenly the music sped up the lights returned. Stephen had vanished.

We sat there staring at each other, not knowing what to say. Grabbing small comfort from the images we shared to each other; while Daniel kept singing ‘’it’s all over now.’
​after a short while arose and then left the bar and took to walking up towards my parent’s place on Prospect hill.