Wolves at my door...

This place looked different in the light of day. My perception must have been warped last night indeed as my memory of the site was almost entirely back to front. I had thought that Gypsy's bender was to the right of the site, but it stood at the back on the far left, just beyond the fence line. A bell hung at the entrance and a painted sign 'Abandon hope, all ye who enter here' was placed above the door. I rang the bell as it seemed like the polite thing to do, 'Gypsy - it's Claire.'
Silence, they were either out or sleeping. I sat for a while on a large stone nearby until I was aware of footsteps coming up the path towards me. It was Nick.
'Claire' he said 'I hope you slept well. Gypsy's gone to town.' Then he added with a cheeky smile 'You can light the fire and make me a tea if you like.' Nick was younger than I had thought last night, I asked him how old 'Nineteen' He'd said. He had to light the fire for me as my attempts resulted in little more than acrid smoke. With the flames now roaring he passed me a blackened kettle then fetched a box containing cups, sugar, coffee and tea. I did my best to make something passable as a hot drink.

Nick had shoulder length blond hair, a goatee beard and biker clothing. He seemed shy and awkward around me and I was curious, yet wary of him.
'You must feel like shit after last night.' He offered me a roll up, 'Keep that up and you'll fit in down here. Anyhow Shebari, Gypsy likes you and that will mean a lot to the others.'
'How long have you been with Gypsy?'
'Never you mind. Long enough to fuck me up though!' And he laughed raucously at his own joke. 'I won't be around for ever', he said, suddenly serious. 'I'm just hanging around to fix my bike and then I'll be off again. Gypsy will either come or stay. I'll never pin her down for long.'
'Nick, what does Shebari mean?'
'It means you're fresh meat down here sweetheart, potential new blood. I mean that in the nicest way of course.' I heard voices approaching, it was Gypsy and Andy, a young punk that hung around the bender site, one of Gypsy's young side kicks. He and I were soon to become the firmest of friends.
'You survived the night with Ian then?' Said Gypsy, with a look on her face like she knew more than I would like her to.
'Slept like a baby Gypsy Lee. Thought I'd come and see what you were up to this fine afternoon.' I looked her in the eyes and tested the water 'Nick has been entertaining me whilst I waited for you.' I wanted to see how possessive she was of her man.
She flicked a glance from him to me, 'You better have looked after her good Nick.' Nick's turn now, his eyes followed, from me to her, but he said nothing. Just nodded. She trusted him more than me, I could tell.
'Come inside.' She gestured at Andy and me. 'Nick, that wood needs chopping before you start work on the bike today.'
Once inside the bender, Gypsy lit some candles and busied herself cutting up speed once more. This time there was a heap of it on the mirror. I had never seen such a large amount of drugs before. She cooked some up in a spoon again and offered Andy a syringe of sticky white fluid. I didn't like to ask for some, but eventually she offered me a line and a tube.
'How come I don't get to inject?'
'Cause I don't want you fucked up like him.'
'I'm not a kid.' I protested.
'You're somebody's kid, remember that. It's a fool that forgets it's origins. Your Father would want me to look after you.'
I took the tube and snorted up the speed, shaking my head in surprise at the burning sensation. 'You don't know my Dad. So you can't say that'.
She ignored my comment. 'Hey, you wanna speak to Old John. He's going away to a festival for a few weeks. You could look after his bender. You and Andy. It's the one nearest mine, I could take care of you then.' Gypsy was becoming animated by the drugs. She moved around the bender with a fueled purpose, tidying and sorting. But always watching us.

I swear that woman had more than one set of eyes.

'How about it new friend?' Andy threw me a cigarette 'Fancy being house mates? I'll bet Old John says yes if you ask him!'
'Sure. I could use a place to stay for a week or two.'
'And you,' said Gypsy waving a finger in Andy's face, 'Keep your cock in your trousers. She's not a present I'm giving you.' I laughed at her outburst. 'Now fuck off, both of you. Go and earn some money or something. I ain't paying for all the drugs in this house.' Andy shuffled out first with me close behind him. I was just about to leave when I heard her speak again.
'And I do know your Father. His name's Ernest. Black hair, dark skin. Smokes the one's without filters.'
I froze at the correctness of her words. 'How do you know that?'
She laughed in response and shook her head as if to say 'I'm not telling'
The speed raced my heart 'Do you know my family?'
'Fifiki, I am family. Now go find Old John and go ask him about that festival'.

'Come on.' Called Andy from outside. I pushed my way through the tarpaulin door, momentarily fazed by the bright sun, I was aware of the silhouette of Nick chopping wood on the horizon and Andy's smiling face.
'Let's go make some money girl. Old John will need a few of the cold ones to warm him up to our suggestion.'
'Begging?'
'Unless you know a better way!' Andy started walking back to the site 'Watch out for the shit' he called, gesturing at a pile of excrement lying beside the fence. I followed excited. I liked that Gypsy was paying me so much attention. I was fucking freaked about some of the things that she was saying but I tried not to think too much about that, I sensed she would be a powerful friend but a dangerous enemy. Andy and I took the long way back to the town and we begged on the way.

'Spare a bit of change sir?'
'Could you help us out with some money for food Sir?'

The repetitive call of the desperate, now slid off my lips without shame.

By the time we got to the town we had enough for a beer each, so we sat down on the steps and chatted away whilst Andy rolled and knotted my hair into dredlocks.

I spotted Robert coming before he saw me. I laughed false laughter as if I had never had such fun in my life and I pretended that I hadn't seen him. I hated him for all he did to me. I hated him for loving Polly more.

But loved him so.

Had he seen us? It had only been days since our split but already I had forgotten the Claire of then and it seemed like years had passed since he held me tight and loved me true.

Two hours more of begging and we headed back to the bender site with enough money in our pockets for some vegetables to make soup, some rolling tobacco and twelve beers.
'We should make enough to buy some speed.' I suggested.
'What the fuck for?' Laughed Andy 'Gypsy's got a bloody mountain of the stuff and we're practically family after all.'
'But Gypsy said...'
'Don't worry about Gypsy. By the time we get back to site she'll be off her tits on speed and she won't even remember this morning.'
'She talks weird sometimes. She freaks me out a bit.'
'She thinks that you're like her daughter, that's why. I mean, she knows you're not her daughter, not really, but she still thinks it. She's fucked up' And he tapped the side of his head with an outstretched finger 'Up here. But she means well. Don't let her bother you any.'

Old John was sat outside his bender talking to a small group. He introduced everyone to me.
'Claire. This is Polly, an old friend of mine,' I flinched at the name but smiled at the lady with graying hair 'And this is Blackum, and Dean.' Blackum had the look of Jesus about him. Goatee beard, long straight hair and eyes like puddles of black coffee. He intrigued me to the point of flirting. Dean was another crusty punk. Dirty, tattooed, dressed in combat clothing.
'You all off to Northampton with John?' Probed Andy.
'I'm going' Answered Dean 'But Blackum's gotta stay to sort some shit out. How about you two?'
'Nah.' Andy elbowed me in the ribs gently.
'Hey John. If you're going away. Any chance that I could stay in your bender? I'm fucked for a place at the moment.' I offered John a beer from the bag, smiling hopefully.
'Don't see why not. You staying too?' He looked at Andy.
'I guess. If I'm not at Gypsy's.'
'Well wash the sheets if you get em dirty.' Said John jokingly. 'And don't burn the bloody place down.'
We signed the deal with a round of beers and then Polly helped me cut up the vegetables and prepare the soup. Polly was in her late forties. Graceful, slim and well spoken, she did not seem like the other travelers.
'I've got some chicken we can use too.' She offered.
I pulled a face, 'I don't eat meat. I'm vegan'.
'Wolves eat meat.' Was her rather strange response. 'But I can cook it separately for the men. I'll eat vegan with you this time.' She pinned a loose grey curl behind her ear with a pretty jeweled clip before gesturing to help her lift the heavy pot to the fire. 'You'll need meat to keep your strength up. Blood's part of woman's soul.' We all ate together around the fire as the sunset burnt red the sky above us. I listened once more to Old John's tales of traveling and learned that he and Polly had once been a couple, that Blackum had a wife called Nicky who was away at the moment and that Gypsy's burns were from a motorcycle accident, not a fire as I had thought.
'She skidded her bike. Came off and took the skin off her left side completely. She was just wearing a skirt and vest. Those aren't burns. They're grafts.' John told me.
We finished eating and the men cleaned the pots and plates whilst Polly and I lay back and counted stars.
'It's so beautiful down here.' I said to Polly. She reached out and grabbed my hand.
'Then stay.'

I figured I would. For a while at least.

Eventually, Andy and I headed over to Gypsy's bender. He thought that if we could get some speed inside us now, we would come down enough before it was time to sleep. It sounded like a good plan.

Gypsy was home and the fire was roaring. It seemed welcoming and cozy inside. Nick was pottering with his bike at the back and Gypsy was lying on the bed wrapped in furs. I thought that I would ask Gypsy if she could get me any Rohynol. I had liked my first taste of this drug and wanted more, but I immediately regretted mentioning this to Gypsy.
'Stay away from that shit. It's for fucking Junkies.' She looked angry. 'If anyone offers you any more of that crap, then you fucking tell me, you hear.'
I nodded.
'Nick, you go tell Old John that I won't have that shit on this site. I know it's him dishing it out. Old fool should know better. He's been thrown off more than one site for less.'

I had never heard anyone talk bad of Old John before. It surprised me. I couldn't comprehend why one drug was worse than another. It tasted of hypocrisy to me.
But this seemed like a good moment to ask 'Can we have some speed then?' And I watched as Gypsy cut and cooked her powder once more, then offered me a tube. I felt like a part of something as I choked back the bitter taste of white again.

Part of what, I didn't yet know , but part of something - for sure.

Continued...

Meeting the coincidence of cult...

We climbed over the stile and I felt the cold dampness of Spring grass beneath my feet. Down here, where the street lights couldn't catch us, the stars and moon were the new focus to our waking dream.

They had to carry me piggy-back across the field as I became petrified at the thought of standing on a slug in my bare feet. Tabbitha was tiny, almost a foot shorter than me. She gave carrying me a good try though, despite us toppling over more than once. We sang Janis Joplin sangs at the top of our voices. The forest heard us coming, that's for sure.

"Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a night on the town?
I’m counting on you, Lord, please don’t let me down.
Prove that you love me and buy the next round,
Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a night on the town ?"

The path into the woods was narrow and flanked by brambles and nettles. There was much laughter as I tried to hold my legs and feet clear of the dangers. It was so dark down here. Black as the devil's pupils to a girl in the midst of a colourful trip. I heard the site before I saw it. A blend of music, instruments and voices now told me that we were really close. I will never forget to this day my first view of this place. This paradise was nothing like the cold and solitary frame that Ian had took me too. I had never seen such beauty in my life. A huge bonfire burnt at the centre of this hippy Utopia. It was surrounded by travelers that sang with voices of angels and that ate food from God's own pantry. It seemed everyone had a smile for me. Some already knew me - 'Claire, welcome to our world' and some didn't 'John, where did you find the Shebari?'. Candle lanterns hung in the trees illuminating the paths between the benders and teepee's, puppies and dogs frolicked playfully around the feet of their owners and sweet music - music poured from everywhere. Then there were the colours, 'Oh the colours'. Hair dyed every accent of the rainbow, bodies draped in a myriad of patterns and hues, tattoos, blankets, piercings and jewelery, everywhere my eyes fell was enchanting to my soul. John dropped me carefully near the fire on a cushion. 'Claire's on a wonderful trip my Pralas. I want everyone to look after her and treat her well.' A chillum was passed to me by a smiling lady whose face was unfamiliar to me.
'Light, inhale, hold. Bon Shiva my friend.' She said. I did as she instructed then sat there for a while watching the raw beauty of the flames. The woman stared at me often during my time by the fire, I was too happy and drugged though to feel discomfort at this.

I started to feel very tired now.
The pill must have started to overtake the amphetamines as all I wanted to do was was curl up tight in paradise and sleep with my new found friends. Tabbitha shook me back to this place.
'Come Claire, wake up. Gypsy wants to meet you. I'll take you there.'
I was pulled passively to standing and held upright by Tabbitha and a man who I didn't know. We passed between two benders, smoke streaming from the chimneys, and climbed a small fence at the back of the site. This bender, looming in front of us was not like the others.
'Yo, Gypsy.' Called out the unknown male 'I'm here with the girls.' He pulled aside the tarpaulin and entered. This bender was so big that you could enter it standing. There was a corridor of sorts, then a doorway into the main room where Gypsy sat.
'Oh - my - God.' I was quite taken aback by this place 'It's beautiful'. I realised that Gypsy was the woman from the fire. The one that stared.
'What's your name Shebari?' As she turned to me this time I saw that much of her face was burnt and scarred.
'My name's Claire, Gypsy queen.' I smiled 'I'm Tabbitha's friend.' I could not stop staring around this room. A four poster bed stood in the middle, supporting the massive frame and a huge fire burnt at the back next to a Harley Davidson bike. It reminded me of a medieval castle with it's ornate hangings and candelabras. True magic was found here, of that I was sure.
'Well, Claire, I'm Gypsy Lee and that's my man, Nick. We are the reason that you are here.' She reached out and grabbed my hand affectionately 'Only you don't know it yet. But that's ok. Sit down. I have some speed for you and Tabbitha. You look sleepy Shebari.' I realised that her hand and arm were badly scarred too. I watched as Gypsy pulled out a mirror and cut lines of speed with a small knife. By now, my body did not know whether to run, fly or sleep, but I felt that I would not be able to say 'no' to this particular lady. She was Romany through and through form her accent to her attitude. She wore big leather bike boots, a leather waistcoat and a very short skirt. Her hair was cropped short and bleached white with a purple fringe and she had a confidence about her that I had never seen before. I saw her pull a spoon from the bedside table and scrape two of the lines of speed into its silver curve. When she turned to face me next she had a syringe held between her teeth. I had never seen anyone inject before and it fascinated me. Maybe it was the acid, maybe it was this strange and curious lady, or maybe it was something more. As she finished a small trickle of scarlet ran from her hand and spilled onto the animal skin rug on the floor. I fell to my knees to watch, saw another drop fall.
'What's she doing?' Asked Nick.
'Learning.' Said Gypsy 'She's been away for so long that she has forgotten all there is to know.' And she patted my head with her non-bloodied hand.
'Can I try that?' I asked, gesturing towards the syringe on the table.
'Not yet old friend. Your day will come. Tabbitha, you'll look after my She'enedra won't you?' Tabbitha took the tube and snorted a line.
'She can sleep in with us tonight Gypsy. Unless you need her here of course?'
Gypsy laughed the cackle of a woman that smoked too much tobacco 'Not tonight Tabbs. I think for Fifika, tomorrow will be a better time.' I took my line of speed and chattered away until the Rohypnol finally won the war and sank me back into subservient sleep.

The next thing that I was aware of was being carried by two men, out of the bender, out into the cold of the early morning. I heard Tabbitha's voice too, but seemed unable to open my eyes. I must have passed out again for I have no memory of my arrival to this next place.

Ian's Place.

I slept nearest the bender wall, with Tabbitha between myself and Ian. I was worried about my rats, I wondered where they were. My emotions still too muted by the drugs to worry about my companions. I awoke to the hushed voices of Tabbitha and Ian talking outside. They were saying goodbye. Tabbitha had to go to work. I pretended to still be asleep when Ian came back inside. There was that smell again, the smell of must and patchouli. I felt a hand work its way under the blankets and between my legs. 'Fuck off Ian' I turned to face him. 'I'm not going to fuck you today.'
'Shut up. Course you are.' His hand moved again so I kicked out at his arm 'I said no Ian.' And with that I left his place, never to return again. I felt liberated, but also like shit as I walked back to the main site. I was so thirsty I would have killed for a drink and my head throbbed with the acid memory of the night before. I wanted to see Gypsy again. See if the magic had been in the drugs or in her veins. I was soon to have my very perception of being, smashed and warped by this woman. Things were on the change again.

Continued...

Cocktails with the Gentry...

Robert found me just as the sun was finding a place in the sky. Curled up in the empty space where the box once was, shaking with fear and cold. He hugged me and placed his coat around my legs for warmth. 'I was so worried about you. We looked around for hours last night.' He bent over and kissed my hair. 'Blimey girl, you stink of beer, we need to get you washed up, come back with me.'
I can't recall a single step of that journey up the hill. My next memory is of sitting in the bath at Pugs, with Robert washing my hair. There was so much unsaid in that room. Robert helped me out, sat me on the toilet, eyed the blood and passed me a tampon from the box on the shelf. For a moment I felt like dying. He dried me off and pulled a jumper over my head, then took me to our room. I slept fitfully for the next few hours. Every time I woke I had the devastation of remembering the day before. When I finally turned back to face Robert I saw him staring at me.
'I've got to go Claire.'
I smiled and stroked his face. 'OK' Was the best I could muster.
'Claire. You know I'm not coming back. You know I'm leaving, don't you. You'll be alright. You always are.' I heard someone shuffling about in the hallway. 'Happy Birthday Claire.'

That day I turned seventeen years old. As I turned my head away from the door, I placed my hands over my ears, as if not hearing him leave could prevent it happening. I hummed a quiet song again. The last bastion of my sanity had just fallen to the wayside. There was nothing now that he had gone.

The doorbell went. It might have been just as Robert left, it might have been hours later, who knows. It was two men wearing serious faces and serious black suits.
'Hello Love. Pack your stuff and get the fuck out.' I went to push the door shut but a well placed foot prevented me. The taller man spoke again 'I said - get the fuck out, didn't you hear me? This isn't your flat and the nutcase that owns it isn't in a position to pick his house guests. You've got ten minutes. Then we come in and take you out.' As he said the words 'Take you out' he flexed his fist.

Shit.

What was I going to do?

I lit a cigarette and grabbed a bag. Threw in it everything that I could fit, then I grabbed the rat's cage and headed back to the door.

'Pug will be mad at you for this.' I spat.
'Mark's always mad you dumb bitch. Now go.' I walked fast, looking behind me only once to see the men fitting new locks onto Pug's front door. I left the rats behind some bins at the top of town, then wandered down towards the Abbey. I think the thing that most tangibly demonstrates my state of mind at this point is that I hoped to find Ian and ask him if I could stay. I needed someone's arms around me and I cared not whose arm's they were. Comfort, however, came in a different form that day.

'Happy Birthday!' shouted Merlin waving a ten pound note 'Breakfast at the Central Cafe?'
'Merlin.' I smiled 'You're a life saver.' And I gave him a huge hug.

The Central Cafe was a squat in the basement of a building in the centre of town. The squatters sold extremely cheap hot and cold meals and provided a place to hang out and to socialise. I felt exhausted and confused, but I was grateful for this moment of friendship. We ordered two plates of vegetable lasagne and two cups of tea, then we took a table at the back of the cafe where a woman with pink hair played a flute in the corner.
'Robert left me Merlin.' I couldn't help but cry at the speaking of those words 'And some bastards came and kicked me out of Pugs. What the fuck am I going to do?'
'First,' said Merlin 'We'll eat. Then we will visit a magic glue tree. Then perhaps, we'll go to the Hat & Feather, where we will drink beer and rejoice our friendship. Then you will say to me 'Well done Merlin for scoring a job at The Hat' and 'Thank you merlin for letting me stay in your new room tonight despite the fact that there is every possibility that I could get laid by someone else.'.' My eyes widened.
'You've got a job in the Hat & Feather?'
'Darn tooting I have, I'm the new cellar boy. Room comes with the job. I'll sneak you in and call in sick for tonight. We'll spend the evening tucked up in bed watching old films and eating crisps. Marvelous idea for a birthday celebration.'
Marvelous indeed.
Merlin was a well known character around the streets of Bath. He was thirty years old and the 'Peter Pan of punk'. Merlin had absolutely no intention of ever growing up and for this I loved him. The child in me had died so long ago that I adored to be around the child in him. After a good feed and some idle chatter we strolled down the London Road towards the pub.

Merlin stopped suddenly.

He bent forward and began sniffing at a large pot planted with a small tree. He then started digging in the soil with his hands. 'It's the magic glue tree!' he cried, then returned to his digging. Suddenly he pulled out a small red metal pot shrieking 'Eureka!' And he held aloft the tin of Evostick glue for all to see. I had to laugh. Only Merlin would have pots of glue stashed in pot plants around the town.
It felt so good to be climbing the stairway of the pub. I followed Merlin into a tiny room containing a bed, a TV and video, a fridge and some old bags of clothes. The room was decorated with posters of punk bands and smelt of old socks and men, despite the fact that Merlin had only lived there a couple of days. Today, it smelt like a home. I threw my bag down in the corner and myself on his bed.
'Merlin. It's a bloody palace!' He opened the fridge and passed me a beer.
'Get yer laughing gear around that one. I'm going to run a bath and have a shave. Make yourself at home Bubs.'

Home. A tenuous word.

I turned on the TV and put my feet up on the bed. With Merlin gone I thought of Robert once more. I wondered if he was happy. Was he lying in Polly's arms? Was he getting drunk with Nick? It made me sick to think of him. Merlin returned smelling of lavender soap and with a freshly shaved Mohican, dyed pillar box red. He was totally naked, which I ignored, and he played the guitar for me sitting cross legged on the battered old carpet. He made me laugh, making up silly songs about me, him and the people we knew. We drank more beers and cuddled in the bed. At lunchtime, as promised, he raided the pub's crisp stash and we waited for the afternoon matinée to start, snacking on salt & vinegar and smokey bacon treats. At one point he looked at me with an amorous glint in his eye.
'Fancy having birthday sex?'
I looked at him with more truth than I had ever mustered. 'I've just about had all the fucking that I can take, Merlin. I'd rather not.' I had never said no to a man before.

There was more sleeping that afternoon. More sleep, some drugs, lot's of beer and innocent cuddles. He was my King. I remember him fond and dear for all he offered me and for all he left me with on this tainted birthday.

Monday.

The next day started with a spliff and a new hairstyle. I raided Merlins shelves and found a pot of Alpine green hair dye. With some scissors I hacked off the sides of my hair, then I got Merlin to shave it into a Mohican and spike it for me. We stood there grinning in the mirror at each other, 'Like Twins' I laughed.

My plan for the day was to beg some money and to get very drunk. 'Always nice to have an ambition', I thought. I found begging much harder with my new look though. People seemed intimidated by me and no longer saw me as quaint and pitiable. Eventually I made enough money for some bright pink footless fishnets, twenty Benson & Hedges and a visit to the pub. Any pub would do. The question of which pub was answered when I bumped into Old John and the Spaceman at the newsagents. They were off to The Beehive. Would I like to join them for a round or two?
'Most definitely I would kind Sirs.' And I looped an arm through each of their's for the journey down The Belvedere Road.

Old John was a traveler from the bender site. Tall and slim he wore a patterned waistcoat and big boots. His wiry, grey hair danced unmanageably around a weather worn face. I liked John. He was an honest man of simple tastes. The spaceman was so called because he was mentally fucked up after taking too much acid in the 60's and 70's. He had gotten so high that he had never quite come back down to earth. He was plump and unhealthy looking, red of complexion and with a peculiar sheen to his skin. I noted that he had the same silver moon boots as Pug.
At the pub we were joined by Tabbitha, a plump and shy girl of about nineteen. She lived with her mother in a council house down in Bath Easton, and was often to be seen hanging out with the travelers around the town. I ordered the first four glasses of cloudy cider and we all sat down to smoke cherry flavoured pipe tobacco and tell a yarn or two. I liked listening to Old John's stories. He had seen the world and then some and picked up a few good tales on the way. Old John bought the second round and he popped a special treat into each of our hands to wash down with the scrumpy. Two tiny black flecks were stuck inside a piece of sticky tape, nestled in the palm of my hand. 'Black Micro Dots' he told me 'Good acid that'. I took the micro dots and chewed on them as instructed. It seemed only minutes later that something else was pressed into my hand.
'Speed' said Old John 'A gram for you and Tabbitha to share. Let's see if that doesn't put a smile on your face.' Tabbitha tugged on my arm and gestured at the toilet, so I followed her there and squeezed into the tiny cubicle to examine the gift. It was a fold of paper, about one centimeter by two centimeters, and inside was a small mound of white crystallized powder. I watched interested as Tabbitha rolled up a bank note and used a beer mat to chop the speed and shape it into four lines. 'Two each' she smiled and offered me the tube.
'You first.' I replied nervously. Watching every move she made, I drank the whole thing in. I didn't want to look an inexperienced fool. When my turn came, the speed tasted bitter sweet as it hit the back of my throat. My nose burned and my nerves were on edge. I wondered if this would be like the acid, if I would have ages to wait before I felt the effects come on. We returned to the bar and settled back to our drinks and the laughing men. The conversation continued and we giggled and drank as the drugs began to take hold. First the speed made my heart race and my mouth feel funny. I chewed endlessly on the skin inside my cheek and talked and talked and talked like I had never talked before. My two rats popped out of my coat and ran around the table merrily, glad to be free of that stupid cage for a time. I felt a hand in mine again.
'Rohypnol.' Said Old John slipping a third thing into my hand. 'You save that one for tomorrow. When you feel like shit, it makes that shit smell of roses!'
'True. Shit smells like roses when the Pinks are in town.' Said the Spaceman. Offering up some conversation for the first time since our arrival at the pub. As soon as Old John loked the other way I popped the little purple pill into my mouth and swallowed it down. Why wait? It sounded like just the thing to help me forget and I was having so much fun today. Our laughter became raucous and insane as the acid muddled our brains. I remember the fire looking like the most beautiful jewels that I had ever seen and that the eyes of my companions glinted and shone with the flickering light in a most enchanting way. Everything about that afternoon was perfect. Outside the pub, when we eventually giggled too much to stay, we amused ourselves with the beauty of the spring flowers and the dusty glamour of the old black stage coach that sat in an antique shop window. It was like magic ran through our veins and each and every thing my eyes fell upon verged true perfection that day.
'I never want this to end!' I cried hugging John, Tabbitha and the Spaceman in turn.
'Then come back with us.' Laughed Old John 'Come back to the site. There's plenty of drugs and plenty of beds to be found there.'
I held Tabbitha's hand 'Are you coming Miss Tabbitha?'
'Of course I am. My boyfriend, Ian, lives down there. You can stay the night with us if you like. I'm sure that he won't mind'
'Not Welsh Ian?' I burst. Wide eyed and curious at her words.
'Do you know him?' She asked.

I wondered if I did.

Continued...

The Hat & Feather Pub

Rehearsal...

'I'm off out. Catch you later.' I called, slamming the door quickly before anyone questioned where. It was a short walk down the hill to the town centre and it was already bustling with people, eager and ready for whatever the evening would bring.

I was ready.

I met Liam, a 17 year old traveler and Ian sitting on the steps near the Roman Baths.
'It's the fucking freak.' Shouted Ian 'Hey, freak, wash that stupid paint off your face. You'd be prettier without it.'
' Buy me a beer Ian and I'll wash my face.'
'Where's that weirdo boyfriend of yours? Can't he buy you a beer? I know it's his fucking Giro day.'
'I'll buy you a beer Claire.' Offered Liam. An offer too good to refuse?

I didn't know much about Liam. He was Irish and from one of the big traveler families that worked the fairgrounds. He wore dirty army combats and his hair bleached blond, was shaved into a wide Mohawk. We walked to the off-license together.

'You shouldn't let Ian talk to you like that. He's a tosser when he's drunk.' Liam smiled at me with a gappy grin as he paid for the beers. 'Why don't we go down the weir. Fuck Ian. I'll buy you a drink in The Boater. They won't serve us if Ian comes anyhow.'
'Alright' I said. And I felt closer to wherever it was I was heading as the word left my lips.
I took the can that Liam offered and cracked it open, lighting a cigarette for each of us from the box in my pocket.
'Hey, do you still live in that car park?'
'No. I've got a place at the top of town now. Live with some mad bloke called Pug.' I wasn't sure that Liam was going to be the right person for today. He seemed too nice. 'Robert lives there too.' I said as an afterthought.
'You're fucking crazy you are. When you said that you lived in a carpark, I thought you meant that you lived in a converted garage or something. Ian took me down to your box once when you weren't there. What the fuck were you living down there for! You should have come down the traveler site, I'd have looked after you.'
I threw my arms around his neck, 'Awww, thanks Liam. But I'm a big girl, I can look after myself you know.' Liam went to kiss me, but I laughed and pulled him by the hand down the stone steps of Pulteney Bridge. The rush of water from the weir was percussion to the music blaring from the pub and the lights of the canal boats danced along in appreciation, reminding me of happier days. The Boater garden was nearly empty and we picked a bench with a view of the river, hiding our private stash of beer under the table.
'Here's a fiver. Get a couple of Gold Labels beautiful.' Liam passed me the note. I pushed my way up the crowded stairway of the pub, nodding to the many people I knew, people that had coloured my life. Merlin was there, smelling of glue and snogging some middle aged hippy chick. The young Goths that had once been my peer group, long before I left their world and propelled myself to this one, each of them waved hello and smiled to see me. Sarah was there too, sat with the Goths. We had once worked at the same riding stables and had gone to the same school.

At least I think we had. The girl I was seemed so different to the girl in this bar.

I purchased the drinks and made my way back to the garden, flirting with some bikers on the way. Liam and I were halfway through our second drinks when Ian appeared.
'What the fuck happened to you two losers? And you...' he threw me a glare 'Bertie fucking Bassett is in town looking for you. He looks pissed with you too.'
'Fuck off Ian. Aren't you banned from here anyhow?'
'You shagged her yet Liam?' Liam pulled a face of distaste
'I have.' Ian continued 'She fucking loved it too. Didn't you girl?'
Liam stood up and pushed a hand into Ian's chest shouting 'Get out of here. Just leave her alone.'
I looked up at the two of them. At Ian with the laughter on his lips and at Liam with the fury in his eyes but all I saw was Robert and Polly and hatred.

I smiled at Ian.

Ian pushed Liam away to one side and held out a hand to me.
'I'm off. Coming with me?' He knew you see. He had always seen it in my eyes and he had waited for today because he always knew that it would come. I took his hand and off we ran laughing through the tunnel.

I didn't laugh for long. By the time that we reached the lane that cut through to the field I wanted to be back in Robert's arms, safe and warm and familiar was not going to be found at the end of this path. I found enough strength to speak an excuse.
'Shit, Ian, I'm supposed to be in town. I forgot, I am meeting up with Merlin.' I hoped the mention of Merlin, someone that Ian liked would save me from this fate.
'Merlin won't mind.' Retorted Ian, holding out a hand again, this time to help pull me over the stile.
'No, I really should go. I can catch up with you tomorrow. I'll buy you a beer.'
Ian pulled me roughly down to the other side where I fell into the damp, dewy grass on my hands and knees.
'Come back to the bender for a joint then I'll walk you back to Merlin's afterwards.'
I could feel myself starting to cry. Ian wiped away a tear with the cuff of his sleeve 'Sit down girl.' He took off his shirt and poured some of the beer from his can onto the fabric, than he proceeded to wipe my face clean from the makeup I was wearing. I was still crying helplessly. 'See, I was right.' he smiled 'You look much prettier without that shit on your face.' And with a finger under my chin he tilted my face up to look at his.
I found my words again 'I better go now Ian.' and I waited for permission but instead I was pulled up to standing and onwards through the field. By the time we reached the canal I was shaking with fear and sobbing loudly. I hoped desperately that Robert would appear from the bushes and save me. My bare feet hurt as I was dragged over the stoney ground, further into the darkness and then down deeper into the woods. My sobs became silent and my wrist hurt where Ian held me firm. His words were nice enough, mostly he spoke of the everyday, sometimes he spoke with frustration, but never did he let on as to what his intentions were with any more than the grip on my arm and an angry flash of his eyes. I had never been to a Bender Site before. This site was set aside from the main camp, I had heard rumors. Patch, Andy and Ian were not permitted to live with the other's but people were too scared of Andy to say why. There was only one bender here. An intricately woven dome of willow branches, shielded from the weather by tarpaulins on the outside and wrapped for warmth and decoration by brightly coloured cloths within. The bender had two rooms. The main room contained a bed, a wood burner, a food locker and a chest and the front room, from which you entered, stored the rest of their possessions and a pile of boots. It smelt heavily of cannabis. You had to crawl to enter the bender. Ian went first, feeling around for a torch in the entranceway he flicked it on illuminating this colourful little cave.
'Come on in.' He called.
I could have ran away. Fled to the darkness of the woods whilst he searched for the torch. I could have.

But I didn't.

Instead I hummed. Sang my little song, bent down on my hands and knees and crawled into the deep unknown. Ian lit candles and a fire whilst I sat on the mattress and snuggled in the blankets that smelt strongly of must and patchouli.
'There, that's better!' He said with a comforting smile. The fire flared, turning this filthy, cold hole into a place of colour, magic and safety inside my head. I still hummed.





SILENCE...







Just breathing and grunting and sometimes me humming to break the silence for the longest time. Until he broke it all with the words 'Now fuck off. Patch is due back any time soon.' So I pulled out the screwdriver, dressed and crawled back into the woods.

If I could have crashed through time and left that wood. If I could have jumped forward twelve years to the new millennium, to September, sharp and cold - I would have seen to what extent this day was a rehearsal of things that would come to pass. 9/17/2000. I will be taken from the Easy Internet Cafe in the West End of London at around four o'clock in the morning. I will be led by the hand once more, to a place that is built on the inevitable. This time the hand would be a much more sinister one. This hand would belong to Kam.

Closer...

Bender photos and build instructions
Pulteney Bridge The Boater pub was up behind the tree on the right and The Cactus Club was under the arch at the base of the bridge tower
Some things never change!

Continued...

Black & Decker

Pug's place was a change indeed. High ceilings, open fireplaces, cornices and picture rails, I felt like I was living in a stately palace. There were only two main rooms, Pug's and the one he let us move into, then a bathroom, a small kitchen and the hall completed the flat. Our room was empty but we brought the mattress from the box with us, which made me feel strangely better at leaving my home.

Pug was in fact clinically mad. He had been released back into the community after the government downsized the institutionalized population in the eighties. His parents had given him the flat to live in and he coped as well as your average insane perosn would given the same set of circumstances. Most of his friends were also mad. It would be delving deep indeed to tell you how mad but seeing as most of my friends were pretty crazy too I guess I shouldn't judge. It is estimated that as much as half of the 400,000 homeless population of England suffer from severe mental illness. Pug, I guess, was the lucky one, he at least had a place to live.

I did my best to make this space mine. I painted a giant monopoly board on one wall (I can't quite remember why but I think that it speaks of the child I still was) and I would cuddle with Robert on the mattress in the pretense of bliss. We would listen to music and experiment with make up on each other. This room felt impossibly big as we had so little stuff to fill it. Nick, the sandy haired boy from the cafe, started sleeping over. He would lie to his parents about his plans, then crash on the mattress with Robert and I after a night fueled by drinking and laughter. It felt like a family of sorts. I would stare at Robert for hours at night, often fighting sleep to watch him silently. I loved every line of his body and forgave him all his failings. There were failings too. Sometimes he would shout at me and send me to the streets to beg him money for cider. Once he drank aftershave as it was the only alcohol that he could source in the middle of the night when the shakes took over him. The only other pain that struck me at this time was when he talked of Polly.

Polly was Robert's ex partner and the mention of her always caused me suffering.

I had been at Pugs for about a week when we were woken by a knock on the door during the night. Robert went to answer it in only a t-shirt and I heard whispered voices in the hall. I crept towards the door to listen but couldn't make out much except that the other person was a woman.

Robert hurried back to the room and grabbed his jeans. 'Babe I got to go. Polly is having some problems. Her Mum says she needs to see me.'
'Don't go Bertie.' I pleaded. 'You can go tomorrow. We'll go together.' Robert threw me a pitiful look and grabbed his coat and cigarettes.
'I've got to go. Hey Nick, wake up. Look after Claire for me, I'll be back in a few hours.'

I threw myself at his feet, terrified of something, I didn't know what.

'Robert, please don't go.' I couldn't bear it 'Come back to bed with me.' But he was mentally out of that door before he even touched it. I didn't sleep after that and I jumped at every footstep in the street. Somehow I knew that this night would change everything.

Robert returned about 10:30 the next morning. I was in the bathroom dying Nick's hair and I pretended not to care.
'The forager returns.' Shouted Robert, holding up a four pack of beer and a packet of pills. 'Nick you look like a wanker with black hair.' And he threw Nick a can.
He walked over and kissed me on the neck. 'Aren't you going to ask me what happened?' I squeezed the last of the dye onto Nick's head and ignored the question. 'Oh well. Those beers are for you. Nick and I will go and pick up my Giro. We'll get some more drinks in, do a bit of shopping too. Merlin lent me a tenner so I'll catch up with him then I'll come back and give my baby a good seeing to'. Nick groaned.

When they left I went and knocked on the door to Pugs room. No answer but I heard music so I entered anyhow. Pug was sat on the bed with headphones on. He didn't need headphones as the music was coming out of the speakers but Pug liked to wear them anyhow.
'Hey Pug.' He looked up at me. 'What you up to?'
'Listening.' He answered. I stroked the head of the Buddha statue on his bedside table and breathed in the heavy scent of essential oils burning in the room.
'Pug. Do you know Polly?'
Pug took off the headphones and draped them on the Buddha. 'No. Who's Polly'
'She's Bertie's ex.'
'Is she pretty?' Pug put the headphones back on but turned the music off.
'I guess. Fat though. Bertie says that when we both have make-up on, we are both equally pretty. But that without make-up on, he says that I look much nicer.'
'Well she's fat Poppet so it doesn't really matter.'
'Bertie says I am perfect apart from my upper lip. He says it should be bigger, like Polly's. What do you think?' I jumped from the bed besides Pug and knelt on the floor to look in the mirror. I smiled at my reflection, then back at Pug. 'I might be fat soon anyhow.'
'Why's that Poppet?'
'I might be pregnant. Bertie doesn't know, but I haven't had a period in weeks. 'Maybe Bertie will like it if I get fat like Polly.'
'You know that I wank on the tea towels. It's probably my baby.'
'Fuck off Pug.' I screamed, laughing at the same time 'I know you don't. Sometimes I think that you put on all this crazy shit. You want us to think you're mad'
'Nah, I don't put it on. I know it's stupid, but I just can't stop myself. If you are pregnant Poppet then you need to take better care of yourself. That wanker doesn't look after you right. You've always got beer and cigarettes, but you've never got any food. You're wasting away.' He started to roll a joint 'And I like your upper lip plenty, but you're definitely wasting away.'
'Who's that?' I pointed to a large bulge in the bed clothes next to Pug that appeared to be a man with a big bandage on his head.
'That's Nigel. He's mad.' Pug shook the bulge awake. 'Nigel, what do you think of Claire's upper lip?'
'Very nice.' Said the bulge with a yawn before going back to sleep.
'But he hasn't seen Polly. So her lip could still be nicer. And what's with his head.' I said pointing to the bandage.
'He drilled a hole. It helps him think.'
'How did he do that?'
'With my Black and Decker Electric. We tried a hand drill but he wasn't strong enough and I don't like the hand drill.'
'Are you telling me that you drilled a hole in his head?'
'Well somebody did. I can't remember if it was him or me.' Pug slapped his forehead hard with the flat of his hand.' Fuck. Sometimes I hate being crazy. I can't remember things properly.'
I jumped up, kissed Pug on the cheek and then climbed into the bed between them both. It was warm there.

We smoked joints and giggled whilst I waited for Robert and Nick. When they returned it felt like the whole dynamic in the house had changed. Pug and I had a secret but I had the weirdest feeling that so did Robert and Nick.

By evening time I knew that Robert had fucked Polly. He didn't tell me, I just knew. I tried not to think about it but it made me want to do something crazy. I could feel the pressure building in me once again. Just like on the day that I left my parent's home. Of one thing I could be certain. That I would do something before nightfall, it was just a matter of what I would find to do.

Continued...