Omega

There was no other weapon. He relaxed his grip a little, shook his head at her, forcing her to look him in the face.

“Not a good idea to be out here on your own,” he said. “Not a good idea at all.” He swallowed air. “Have you any family?”

Nothing at first. Finally a curt nod.

“Mother and father?”

“Father.”

“Brothers and sisters?”

She looked away, towards the square. Yearning to be able to flee.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “What’s your name?”

He was wavering a little, the words coming out thick and slow. The girl glanced back at him, and her expression changed. Fear giving way to something more calculating.

“You want?” she said.

“What?”

“If you pay, I will do it. Money in front, yes?”

It dawned on him what she was suggesting. He was holding her pinned with her arms splayed, her front open. He, too, was open, even down to his fly, which he’d neglected to zip up.

He heard himself utter a laugh. Very carefully she brought up a knee and stroked it against his groin. The fear wasn’t exactly gone from her face but superimposed on it was a harder-edged look of extreme practicality.

“Twenty-five euros for mouth,” she said softly. “Forty for condom.”

He just kept staring at her.

“Fifty bare. Any way. But no kiss or hit, yes?”

There was an instant when he hesitated before pushing himself away from her, sickened by her brazenness, disgusted also with himself.

As soon as he had retreated sufficiently the girl crouched down and snatched up the knife. She held it out in front of her, pulling her coat together with her other hand. Though he knew it was cruel, Owain couldn’t stop himself: he withdrew his Walther and levelled it at her.

She froze again. It was so easy to return her to a state of fear. The power was his again. Easy to do whatever he wanted with her. If he killed her, who would know? Who would ever find out? It happened all the time.

In that moment he felt that the whole world had descended to a grubby tableau which he and the girl were enacting in this desolate fog-bound space where nothing, not even God, existed apart from the two of them. And he was the absolute dictator of it.

He started laughing, but it came out shrill. Her eyes had filled up. With a fierce effort I made him say: “Go. Take yourself from here.”

She didn’t move immediately. I lowered his pistol. She took a step towards the square. And another, watching him all the while. I expected her to run the moment she reached the square, but she crouched down and began scooping the spillages back into her bag.

I made him lift Rhys’s paperback from his pocket and toss it at her. “Take this,” I said. “Sell it.”

It fell in the snow in front of her. Still watching us, she picked it up, dusted it with her sleeve and even glanced at the cover.

She looked uncomprehendingly at us.

“It’s valuable,” Owain said. “Don’t take less than the price of a fuck.”

He broke into brittle laughter again. The girl pushed the book into her bag and fled.

“Owen? It’s me. Sorry I’m late. I’m on my way.”

I was still reeling from what had happened in the square. I stumbled into the living room, the phone at my ear. The clock on the mantelpiece said five past six.

“They insisted I stay behind for a few drinks,” Tanya said. “I couldn’t really say no.”

I knew I had to maintain some semblance of a normal conversation.

“Did it go well?”

“Well enough. A few googlies from the audience afterwards, but nothing I couldn’t bluff my way out of. Everything all right at your end?”

I thought of the phantoms, of Owain’s inebriated state. What could I say? Tanya sounded uplifted, full of life. A little tipsy perhaps.

“All’s quiet,” I told her with as little edge as possible.

“You haven’t eaten, have you?”

“Not since lunch.”

“I don’t think I’m going to be up for cooking. All right if I pick up some akeaway on the way home?”

“Fine.”

“Indian or Chinese?”

“Chinese,” I said at random. “Sweet and sour?”

“OK. I should be back by seven. Let’s eat on trays in the front room. Put a bottle of white in the fridge.”

“Yes, miss.”

“Sorry. Just trying to think ahead. It’s been a long day and I’ll be glad to put my feet up. Are you sure you’re OK?”

“You keep asking me that.” I made a concerted effort to re-orient myself. “Rees phoned.”

“Oh? How is he?”

“Says he has a girlfriend. I’ll tell you about it later. You going to be all right to drive back from the station?”

“Probably not. I’ll get a cab if I have to. Is the hot water on?”

“Everything’s as warm as toast. Looking forward to seeing you.”

“Plain or fried?”

“Eh?”

“Rice.”

“Um, plain.”

“Anything for afters?”

“A snog on the sofa wouldn’t go amiss.”

I don’t know what made me say this. Tanya laughed and said, “You must be feeling better.”

Like a ghostly background image to our conversation I was seeing Owain’s view of the foggy city as he trudged his way home, reeling slightly with each step. It was as if I’d inherited a little of his drunkenness.

“Don’t forget the wine,” Tanya said, and hung up.