"Hey, I'm going to hit the loo quick," Sage said, setting down her empty mug with a clink.
"What are you hitting?" asked Natalie, her feet tapping to the rhythm to the pub's cadence.
"The loo…You know the bathroom." Sage slapped Natalie on the shoulder. "We learned that in the fifth-grade, Nellie. We're in England. Get with the lingo." She hopped lightly off the stool and pushed past the tangled groups of collage boys and middle-aged men, with her head held high, glancing from side to side.
Nellie shook her head. Sage always was like that in crowds, watching movements, listening to snippets of meaningless conversations. Nellie took the last swig of her beer and just set it down when a man occupied the seat next to her. She wasn't going to pay any attention to him at first, but he on the other hand had differing thoughts.
"Here, this one's on me," he said. Nellie tilted her head as a gesture of kindness.
"Thanks, but no, thank you. I'm finished for tonight; just waiting for my friend." She pushed the mug back to him and looked at him through the dim lighting above the bar. He had a kind, young face; the stubble of a blond beard growing. He reached out as she was returning her hand to her lap.
"Please, it'll break my heart if you don't have a drink with me." Natalie gave her head a tiny shake. "Well, if not that, then come with me to get something decent to eat." Nellie pulled away from his touch; slowly though, she didn't want be too cruel.
"That sounds nice, but I'm sorry. I can't go with you. I already have plans with a friend." Nellie responded with a small smile.
"Maybe—"His plea was cut off by Sage. Her look was deadly as she said, "You will have to find some other girl to ruin. Or better yet, how 'bout I call the police." The man mumbled, " Geez, lay off. I was just looking for a good time." He backed away, a scowl on his pretty face. Before he left the pub, the man chugged his full mug and stormed out, the slam of the glass door muted by the people in the pub and the television blasting a football(soccer) game. Nellie watched it as the UK scored a goal against Australia, causing more ruckus from the fans cheering madly throughout the cramped pub.
"Why did you do that?" Nellie said, exasperated.
"Do what? Save you from a night of torture? Because you're my friend. Seems a bit obvious, doesn't it?" Sage replied mater-of-factly.
Nellie sighed once again—seems like she's been sighing a lot since she met Sage all those years ago—and scooted off the stool. "Well, thank you. But I would like to have more than one friend. Having a foreign friend would be cool. I didn't get his name even," Natalie pouts as she retrieved her jacket form the ebony racks.
"His name is Timothy Hugher. Age 30. Graduated from Universty of Chichester, and still lives with his mother," Sage answers inanimately, staring around the place with bright green eyes that are both vacant and aware.
Nellie buttoned up her faded brown leather jacket smoothly and says in a tired voice, "I guess this is the part where I ask 'How on earth could you have known that, Sage?'"
"It's really quite simple actually. You're going to laugh," she glances at Nellie, "Or not. For his name and age: I pick-pocketed him." Nellie glared at her, implying that that was a bad move. Sage went on as if not noticing the look. "He wore a cap with Chichester's logo and well, his clothes were iron pressed, no creases."
"But that doesn't mean he's with his mom." Nellie interjected, thinking she could stump her.
"He had a note sticking out from his pocket. I couldn't read it all, but the bottom half talked about supplies to buy, don't forget to sweep the garage, and signed with love, mom."
Nellie crossed her arms. "I suppose you're right. We should get back to the room; it's late." The two women walked out into the chilly autumn night air. While walking down the somewhat busy streets, they debated what to do the next day. How touristy they wanted to be - should they go to the Adelphi Theatre or visit Courtauld Gallery?-or if they just wanted to stroll around a few parks.
"Maybe we should have called a cab," Sage said after passing the fourth block. The streets have become deserted now in the late hour.
"You're so lazy. It's only two more blocks. Besides, then we'd have to pay the—" Both stopped in their tracks.
A streetlamp flickered with a scream of terror. A scream of pain. A final scream before death. Sage took off at full pace in the scream's direction before Nellie could hold her back, to remind her to be cautious. She followed after her only friend, the scream ringing in her ears and hoping desperately that Sage's wouldn't be the next she hears.