Dead Pets Society by Amanda Nicol

Author:Amanda Nicol
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Agent Press
Published: 2017-02-03T18:23:09+00:00

Over by the lifeboat house I see Gwen with Goldie, her manic retriever. I wave but she doesn’t recognise me without Harry. I feel the inside of my nose tingling, so I turn my back on the big blue-grey salt pool of all the tears of the universe because sometimes that’s what I think it might just be, pull my anorak tight around me and hike up the shingle bank through the crab shells and beer cans and shredded plastic and piles of nets under old bits of carpet and wheelie bins and anchors and flags made of bin liners flapping in the wind like the ragged wings of dead crows on sticks and broken lighters and dried up dogfish with holes where their eyes used to be and ropes and rusting machines and lobster pots and bits of wood and stacks of different coloured plastic fish crates and God knows what else in this place that I’ve come to love so much and happiness flickers like a match in the wind and I drag on its flame, desperate.

‘Mike!’

I’m dragged out of my not unpleasant self-pitying reverie by Kathy, who is gesturing for me to come over to the caff. I can feel myself start to blush, body fessing up before brain the treachery of being rather taken with her ’orrible bloke. But instead of the, ‘You’re up early,’ I’d expected, she says, ‘Aw, miss him did you? He said he was gonna ask you if you wanted a trip out. He told me about the other night. He’s not usually like that, you know. Haven’t seen him lose his temper for years. He was upset about Zorb, you know. So was I. Still am.’

I don’t know what to say. So there is no secret tryst between Kippers and me. I feel like a sad girly waking up from some stupid love dream. My problem is I don’t believe the mirror. I still think that being born in the 60s makes me as hot as hell.

‘Do you want a cup of tea, you look frozen stiff.’

I feel resistance to this idea but I haven’t got the guts to say no. I sit in the corner and gaze up at the nubile mermaid. Poseidon’s top totty luring menfolk into the great blue yonder. I want to be like her. I want to dart around Kippers’ boat, flashy and taut as a sea trout with breasts like buoys and six foot of platinum blonde streaming out behind me, I want…

‘Here you go.’ Kathy puts a mug of thick orange tea in front of me. She goes over to the door, opens it slightly and lights a fag, holding it outside and blowing her smoke out the gap.

‘Trying not to smoke in ’ere,’ she says. ‘Kip wants me to stop. Don’t tell him you saw me.’ She looks tired. Dark circles under red eyes, sallow skin. She stubs her fag out under her foot, picks up the butt and chucks it out to the street.

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