B) I Am The Man

B) I Am The Man

Chapter two...

'Kneeer.. klneer.. Klnger.. KLaaNGER.. CLNGER.. CLANGER.. FOR CHRIST'S
SAKE WAKE UP!'

Clanger's crushing dream rushed back into reality.

'Clanger, It's friggin' quarter to nine, I'm off. Try to do somethin'
useful today.'

She slid her knees off his chest, scraping her shin on the iron
angle-bar bed frame.

'Jesus, my tights!' She screeched. She righted herself and stood beside
the bed, arching over him, 'Get out of this bloody rut will you?'

Clanger tried to collate the immediate facts; crushing chest pains,
headache, questions, statements, shouting, screaming.

It had to be Jill. It had to be Sunday morning and it had to be the
Sunday morning after the Saturday night before.

'It's the same every bleedin' weekend! You take me out on a Friday
night, to desensitise your guilt complex, then piss off every Saturday
with your mates. You know I work Sundays, I hate leaving you all
drugged up and pissed up.' It tailed off into sincerity but she knew it
wouldn't permeate his 'waking' bubble.

'I'm gonna be late, I'll see you later, try and get something to eat
for when I get back, Clanger are you listening?' She watched him roll
on to his side,

'Yeah yeah...I'll get something, don't worry. It's sorted.'

Don't worry, It's sorted, he's gonna have that on his friggin' head
stone, Jill thought.

She opened the peeling, mahogany stained door and stepped into the
hallway. 'I'll be back about six tonight, I'm going for a drink with
Louise and Rachel after work - O.K.?'

No answer, she pulled the door to and descended the dank
stairwell.

The crispness of the air jolted her senses as she opened the front door
on to the street, she stopped and looked back up the stairs.She knew he
would surface about ten thirty, mope about until one and only then be
well enough to go about his business of finding the tools to become
unwell again for the next morning.

The things that had attracted him to her had long since faded; the
arrogant air, the independence and the mystery of a life in turmoil. In
fact, as she thought about it,over the last three years those
characteristics had been diffused into her.

She'd become an arrogant, independent bitch and it would be an
understatement to say her life was in turmoil at this point in
time.But, did she still love him? Well she still loved him but more in
the way of a naughty younger brother, could that be construed as
incestuous?

No, it was a respectful but at the same time unattached love. He was
Clanger, 32 years old, did what he wanted. She was Jill, 29 years old,
did what she wanted and that was that. They just happened to share the
same relationship. Releasing the door she walked to her fiesta and got
in.

Working at the water-board office did have its advantages, excitement
not being one of them, you could work the flexi-time to your
credit.

Nothing ever happened on a Sunday, shops were shut, crap on tele,
Clanger's moods, so why not work on Sundays and take say, a Wednesday
off?

She tried to think why everybody on flexi didn't do it then realised
not everybody lived in a shit-hole with a bloody mentalist.

Perhaps that was a bit harsh, the flat wasn't that bad.

She searched in her coat pocket and pulled out a tangle of keys and
fobs all connected on a centre ring that wouldn't have looked out of
place on a jailer, the 'house' keys or the 'Jinger keys' as Clanger
called them, another of his annoying foibles, naming things, fumbled
through them until she found the ignition key, inserted it and choked
the car to life.

Jill drove for ten minutes to the tunes of the Chemical brothers, a
christmas present from Clanger- kindly taped so she could play it in
the car while he listened to the cd at home, before arriving at the
offices.

Aah.... the office, it was a kind of second home, a retreat where
people cared and there was a point to your being there and the more you
put in, the more you got out and the office 'in' jokes and the
cameraderee and the gossip and the weekly whip round for the assorted
donuts and cakes and the...and the..., and the truth of it was her out
of work life was considerably less exciting.

As she rounded the last bend of the journey she instinctively slowed
for the crossing.

But this was Sunday and she'd only seen about five people in total so
far. Easing the pressure off the brake she hit the clutch and changed
down a gear, lights green as usual, she hit the accelerator.
'JESUS....' someone stepped off the curb, 'EFF..IN..' Jill hit the
brake and yanked down to the left,
'CHRIIIst.......thatwasclose!'.

She'd only twitched the car to avoid the pedestrian but it felt like a
full hand brake turn, 180 degrees.

'OOHMYGOD...I've got to stop dreaming!'

Prickles ran down her body like icy needles.

'That waaaas close.'

She slid her bum to the back of the seat, 'that was too close for
comfort, much too close,' she thought.

The adrenaline slowed its pumping and she regained her composure, in
her rear view mirror she saw a hooded figure, arms outstretched, body
signalling 'What the hell are you doing woman!'

Jill mumbled, 'What the hell are you doing Mister rambling at this time
on a Sunday morning?'

Driving a bit further, the water-board car park loomed into view, only
three cars there, probably unconnected to this office too. A couple of
times she had seen people fast asleep on the back seats obviously
hopeful of a sober drive home.

She parked the car in the space closest to the building entrance,
checked her makeup in the mirror, force of habit, and got out.The sun
glinted through a cloud and spread its talons over the glass of the
offices making her wince at the star burst reflection, it receded back
behind the cloud and dulled the sky.

Walking up the short path she noticed the tired plants in the borders
crying out to be watered, ironic really.

Once in the building her next stop was the coffee machine, damn, did
she have change?

She rattled her purse and opened it, yes.

She inserted a twenty pence in the machine and selected white coffee,
the cup plopped down and proceeded to fill. As she closed her purse she
noticed that there was only ten pounds when there should have been two
ten pound notes.

'Bloody Clanger...right.'

Marching over to her desk, coffee spilling on to the tiled floor she
grabbed the phone on her desk and pressed four on the memory.

'Answer the phone darling come on,' but the phone just gave a ringing
tone, she replaced the hand set after about ten rings and sat in the
chair. 'Bastard, he could have asked.'

She would have given it to him anyway, but it was just the cheek of it
and the ever building sense of being taken for granted that stuck in
her throat.

After an hour of box ticking and paper shuffling she paused and peeked
a look at he time on her desk clock that she had placed on its face,
ten nineteen, 'he's bound to be up now.' She pressed four again and
picked up the hand set. One ring and it was answered.

'Yo'

'Clanger, where is the money?'

'What money?'

She was prepared for this as it was his normal reaction to deny
everything, all you had to do was accuse him of something he hadn't
done and he would admit to something else in confusion.

'The twenty quid missing from my purse?'

'Ten quid I took honey.'

Bingo.

'That's just like stealing off me Clang! I wish you would ask me. What
do you want it for?'

'Uuuuh...You said get something to eat for when you get home, what time
are you coming home?'

'Oh..about two perhaps earlier, I haven't got much left to do it's
mostly internal stuff relating to the accounts, whoever did this while
I was off last week was really crap at it, there's loads of..'

'Well if you can come home a bit earlier,' interrupted Clanger, ' we
could have a late lunch, you know, you could pick something up at the
shop, yeah, a couple of pizzas and a gateaux and I'll give you the
money when you get here.You've got money now though?'

'Yes, about twelve quid altogether.'

'Great, I'll get a video if you want?'

'Yeah o.k. that'll be rice, not something too way out though.'

'Don't worry, its sorted, see ya later babe.'

Clanger replaced the hand set and breathed a sigh of relief, he
wondered how long it would take her to examine the facts before
realising that he'd shirked his duties for the afternoon.

Peeling the remainder of the spliff from his lips, he crushed it into a
saucer then paced back to the bedroom in his underpants. He stopped in
front of the full-length mirror and admired his physique, taking in a
deep breath he puffed up his chest and made a cheeky grin to his
reflection, then spluttered, scratched his balls and flopped on to the
bed.

He lay there for a minute thinking of boiled eggs, soldiers and tea
before bolting upright and grabbing his combats off the bedside
cabinet, knocking off the lamp in the process.

'Shit,' he squeaked, but left it there anyway and quickly dressed into
yesterday's clothes, changing his socks of course.

He trotted down the hall and skidded across the kitchen lino to the
fridge, opened it and gulped down a half carton of milk.

'Aaaah cow juice.' He put the empty carton back in the fridge and did a
drum roll on the work top, 'Bollocks to the food, I gotta see
Jacko.'

He put on his unlaced para boots then his jacket and left the
flat.

to be continued...

jjbhughes