21 December 2014
"John Paul, come back to the hotel. Please!" Nancy begged her friend. "You've had enough. We've both had enough."
"No, I'm going to Fire. I've never been to Fire and now I'm next door and it's a Saturday night and I'm going." John Paul refused, with a great wide smile on his face. "I'm in Vauxhall." He shouted. "I've heard about this place for years and now I'm going." He stamped down his feet. Then he looked as if he got a great idea. "You join us, Nance!"
Nancy closed her eyes and tried to remain calm. She'd never seen her friend in a similar state and it worried her. So much that she'd began to sober up a little earlier, which also meant that she was feeling more tired than she would have been if she'd remained a bit more drunk.
John Paul's new friend was standing there next to him, holding his left arm, pulling him almost unnoticeably towards him. Nancy got a sudden feeling, like an intuition, that she'd better tag along.
"Okay, John Paul." She gave in. "You win. But you're paying!" She added jokingly, because she didn't want this guy to suspect anything.
It was strange to lie alone in this bed. Craig didn't realise it but despite its narrow width he was only using half of, the same half where he'd tend to use years before. He could hear his son softly breathing in his bed but found it difficult to find the same calm and fall asleep. The smell was familiar, yet different; the view the same, yet there were new pictures and posters on the walls.
He turned his head and breathed in the smell of John Paul. Perhaps it will be easier to fall asleep if I imagine he's here, he thought to himself.
It didn't really help. The only thing that happened is that he felt more aware of his friend's absence. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to be immersed by the thought of John Paul.
Strangely, it soothed him and he felt himself starting to smile. Suddenly, he was jolted awake. He didn't know why but found himself forced to check the drawer of the bedside table. He knew it was an invasion of John Paul's privacy, but he knew he'd not withstand it, once the idea had popped up.
The drawer was filled with various things. Craig didn't check them out. There was no need to.
On top of the lot was a framed photo. An eight-year old photo of John Paul. And himself.
And he knew.
John Paul hadn't left the dance floor for over an hour. Dean had disappeared somewhat earlier and Nancy had started to relax and really enjoy the music. The beat was really good and everyone around them seemed so friendly, smiling happily at her as they took their tops off.
Even John Paul had pulled off his T-shirt and stuffed it in the back pocket of his jeans like their comrades on the dance floor. Nancy's own shirt was still on, though, and it wasn't going off, thank you very much!
Suddenly, she started feeling dehydrated and knew she had to go to get something to drink. She tried to drag John Paul off the dance floor but he just laughed and told her to by herself; he'd stay there. When she finally gave in and made to leave, he pulled her towards him and asked her to by a bottle of still water for him. He then waved her away and she hurried to the bar.
A tall man was walking though the Hollyoaks village. He was of an uncertain age, looked rather grey, even surrounded by the multi-coloured Christmas lights, but those few that got close to him felt as if his eyes could see right through them. None had this night, though. His shoulders betrayed the fact that he'd had an uneventful night. Of all the places in the world, why did he choose this place this year? He wondered. Not one window he'd looked through had been open. All the curtains had been shut. He grunted as he approached the McQueen house.
Okay, I might as well try this one out, he decided. I'm here anyway. His jump over the picket fence was surprisingly agile and he crept to the nearest window. He'd checked all the windows on the ground floor when he seemed to grow even taller to peer through the upstairs windows. All were shut and curtained.
All but one.
And there he could see a young man asleep in a bed, a toddler in a smaller one nearby.
A smile formed on the window peeper's lips as he inspected the surroundings. Something shone from the bedside table next to the young man's bed. He put his right hand through the open window and extended it in the direction of what he'd realised was a framed photograph.
He was just about to pick it up when some strange music could suddenly be heard in the room.
Realising that the young man had woken up to this sound, he quickly withdrew his arm and hurried away from the house.
He therefore missed Craig's frantic cries as he jumped out of bed to wake up Myra.
Nancy was beside herself as she ran though the club. She hadn't realised there were five different rooms that stretched through the different arches under Vauxhall railway station.
John Paul was nowhere to be seen.
So she did the first thing that came to mind.
She rang Craig.