Zodiac's toy by John Jones (read 50 shades of grey .TXT) 📕

whether you wanted to hear about them or not, and it didn't matter who was in earshot. Darren and Alistair also liked to talk, but it was Banjo who led the pack, and Wayne also joined in. It was clear they had known each other for years, relaxed as they were in each others company, where the topics could leave the confines of being 'safe' so most other topics could be spoken about.

Ray also tried to interject sometimes, to show willing, to perhaps show Wayne that he was trying. He would report back and say how he was.

'Ray was useless and hated my friends'. Or 'Ray really tried and he liked my friends'. Ray really did try. He only had Lee as his friend now, and even he wasn't 'friend' material, but he didn't want to integrate himself with Wayne as he would find that too embarrassing.

'I’ve got no friends, so can I join yours?' He would feel too much like a spare-part. The friend who only goes on holiday with others because they felt obliged to ask him. Please don't bring your brother. But he'll feel left out if I don't. My Mum won't be happy.

He’s an ugly miseryguts and never talks or joins in. He'll hold us back. Oh for fuck’s sake invite him then…

He guessed they would not allow him into the fold anyway. Ray, you're just a beer drinker and smoker with no hobbies or interests. Your mates are the same. We know you look down on us, but guess what? we look down on you and your kind as well. All groups and cultures and gangs think they’re at the top of the tree. You think we're a bunch of head-the-ball hippies and look down your nose at us because you're so much better, well we think the same. If all you can do is sit in pubs all day drinking beer, reading and believing tabloid newspapers, watching sport and complaining about the state of the world and how the world 'should' be, then we look down on you. It's just how it is. We're all ego-driven. Like attracts like.

You're just one of those people whose opinion is formed by those around you. The people you look up to. Their opinion is your opinion because you don't really give much thought to these things, and when you do, you seek what they think because then you just agree. You're not one to go against the grain are you Ray? You are simply a follower. Nothing more. We don't hate you Ray, and we know you don't really hate us. You just shake your head and maybe call us freaks and weirdos, think that Caroline can do better, but we don't care for your opinion of us. It means nothing. So sit in the corner of the pub with your pint, with your tabloid newspaper on the table and the rolling news on the television, and put the world to rights, as long as we can't hear you.

 

He was a few feet behind them as they chatted as old friends, and Wayne looked back frequently. Ray stepped up faster to try and somehow join in, but they were all just talking amongst themselves, and he felt slightly better when Alistair moved to the side and he found himself sandwiched next to Darren, but still the talk became awkward and stilted.

"So Ray, have you ever tasted garlic mushrooms?"

"No, sounds delicious though. I must try some".

"Have you ever been to Europe?"

"No,"

"Would you ever do a parachute jump?"

"Nah,"

"What's Pisces your star-sign? What's your star-sign Pisces? What's your pisc.." Darren frowned, looking confused.

"What are you on about?" asked Banjo.

"I don't know. Got a bit confused there". Ray just sighed and ran a hand over his hair, falling back again slightly as they talked amongst themselves all the way to the department store.

 

They entered and immediately attracted the attention of the security guard who eyed them with suspicion as they walked through to the escalators. Nobody else paid them much attention except to surreptitiously glance at Banjo because his voice was rather loud.

"...never understood why you'd want to pay three figures for a T-shirt," he said as they passed through the menswear on the first floor, towards customer services at the back.

"A T-shirt is a T-shirt. Do you put it on and feel much better? Oh my...this expensive T-shirt feels so much better than the cheap ones I can get at the supermarket. Honestly…”

They moved through plates, bowls and cups, with cutlery and tea-pots all laid out around them neatly. All except Alistair walked through towards customer service. Wayne looked around.

"You lot can stay here if you like I shouldn't be too long," he looked at Alistair further back who was simply standing there staring at nothing.

"Are those shoes leather?" Alistair asked, rather loudly. Wayne moved back towards him.

"Too be honest I didn't check," Wayne said, "but I'm getting my money back anyway so..."

"Are they leather? You know, like a bull". Wayne frowned. A few other people looked in their direction. Ray stared at him as well.

"Like a bull," he said, a little quieter. "Bulls in china shops. This isn't a china shop though is it? Why would they go there?" A couple who were looking at the dinner-sets moved away.

“Me! I am a bull, and I came here".

"Alistair what are you on about?" Wayne said. The others all looked confused, but Ray simply watched him. Other shoppers either stopped to look or walked slowly.

"I am a bull!" he shouted, and put both his index fingers to the side of his head as crude horns and bent forward. He began to breathe heavily, his chest pulsing as if he had just exercised, then began to hurl himself into the crockery. The plates smashed, the cutlery spread on the floor as he crashed his way around the area.

"Alistair!" Wayne shouted, and the others panicked but didn't know what to do. They were afraid to approach him, instead just shouted for him to stop to no avail. Other customers retreated, but watched as he smashed the displays.

"I am a bull!" he shouted, and sent teapots crashing to the floor. Soon, security guards were tackling him.

"I am a bull!" he screamed, but they soon overpowered him and wrestled him to the ground, where he relaxed and allowed himself to be taken.

His friends watched as they marched him away. Alistair was crying.

"Sorry," he muttered, "why did I do that?" Ray just looked at the destruction he had caused, saw Wayne and his friends distraught and talking amongst themselves. He slipped away, out of the department store, and walked aimlessly for a while until he ended up on a bench on the outskirts of a small park.

He tried not to think of it, but couldn't help himself. It was just Alistair going a bit mad. I don't know him, he may have mental issues as far as I know. Why else would you do that?

Across to his left at around thirty metres, he saw a woman in what looked like a wedding dress being photographed by a man. She had one foot up against a tree. The man snapped away.

Photographer, he thought. Need to get a photographer. He watched for a few minutes as the woman struck various poses. He got up and slowly approached. The woman nodded in Ray's direction and the man looked at him. He stood up properly from his low angle. Ray saw she wasn't simply a bride. She had red lipstick smeared across her face and her hair was a curly bunched up wig. She had black gauntlets and gloves. Students, he thought. Probably some art project.

"Sorry to disturb, but I wonder do you do weddings?"

"Erm," he thought, clearly he had never done a wedding before. "I could do, yes".

"My sister’s getting married soon and she's looking for a photographer, so you could earn a few quid if you like". The man smiled and nodded. "What are you doing here?"

"This is for my uni photography degree. I've got Chantelle here to pose for me as a kind of dystopian bride".

"A dystopian bride? what's that?" The man held the camera up for Ray to look through the viewfinder, which he did, but saw only Chantelle as she was, pulling another pose.

"Doesn't she look like a Centaur," the photographer said.

"A what?" asked Ray.

"A what?" asked Chantelle, frowning.

"A Centaur. A man-horse. You look like a man-horse". Chantelle was annoyed.

"You saying I look like a horse?"

"No, a Centaur. A man-horse".

"Now you're saying I look like a man".

"No you look like a man-horse".

"Cheeky bastard!" she said, then turned and stormed away.

"Doesn't she? doesn't she look like a Centaur?" Ray sighed and simply said:

"Give me a pen and paper and I'll write my sister's number down". The man rummaged in his bag and took out a pencil and note-pad. Ray scribbled the number.

"Doesn't she look like a...what have I said? why did I call her that?" he said as he looked at the tree where she had stood. Chantelle was a white speck in the distance, a speck that vanished around a corner. He quickly put his camera in the bag and hoisted it over his shoulder.

"Chantelle..." he shouted as he hurried in her direction. He turned around to look at Ray, but he too had gone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 40

 

Lee wasn't expecting a client until the afternoon, so looked towards the door with curiosity when there was knocking.

It was another policeman who had got no answer at Lee’s flat and tried Gary’s, the reason for his visit. Lee's shoulders dropped and he sighed. All the police and forensics around Nugget had gone.

"Mr Lee Sherwin. I need to talk to you about a Gary Mendel". The Senior Investigating Officer was one of those who liked to talk, and sometimes would veer off-topic. He wasn't as bad as some of them had been, treating him with contempt, as he started talking about his own family and about the job, meanwhile Lee was shouting in his mind: 'I don't care about what your issues are, or about your job. Say what you've come to say and fuck off!''. He was in no hurry, and spent a while writing in his little note-pad, then asking him about his business. Lee took a leaf from Gary's book and spun it so he sounded legitimate, professional, and the officer was satisfied with this and decided there was nothing here to pursue, and took a while to get around to leaving. One of those people that says goodbye, and are still saying it ten minutes later.

When he had gone, he left the flat and made his way to his other place as he was hungry and Gary's cupboards were sparse.

He noticed Shane's flat door was open and went inside to find Ray lying on the couch.

"You alright?" he asked. Ray just nodded slightly. He was clutching the cards.

"Yep,"

"Oh, hang on, I need you to do another job for me. Someone else that needs a kick up the arse to pay up," he turned to leave, but Ray asked:

"Lee. Do you believe in horoscopes?" Lee just smiled, as though Ray was asking him a trick question.

"Horoscopes? are you fucking kidding? Where you see pictures in the stars, something like a bull or a lion, and that's supposed to predict your future. No chance, it's bollocks. No I don't believe in it". He left the flat and went back in to Gary’s.

Ray sat up and looked at the cards.

"Neither do I," he muttered, and stood up and crossed to a window. He opened it and threw the cards out. "Neither do I," he said again, as Lee came back in. He was handed another page from the note-pad.

"Just remind him, nothing else, but if you want to rough him up a bit then that's fine," Lee said with a slight smile before leaving again.

 

Lee was in his flat for five minutes before another knock came on the door. If that's another fucking pig, he thought, opening