the dog and duck

We were in the Dog and Duck and I didn’t want to be. I didn’t think T. wanted to be there either. He kept his head down as we as we edged our way through the after work crowds searching for Marnie.

“Joel I can’t see her. Let’s go”

I couldn’t breathe in that hot stuffy place. We were about twenty years younger than anyone else, and people stared at us as if we were intruders. I felt my face get redder and redder. Joel wasn’t listening though – he was pulling me gently along towards the bar.

“Come on – let’s get a drink. Look you see who that is? Over there – look”

He was trying to distract me with famous people, but seeing Doctor Who leaning unsteadily against the wooden counter didn’t help at all. It made me more nervous.

“Can’t we wait outside for you?”

“No, no! Come and say hello, you have to – won’t take long – here she is”

It was alright for him – he was used to it. I wasn’t. I hated it all – the crowds of people, artists, actors, writers – all drunk, all shouting and laughing loudly, all much, much older

“Darlings!” Marnie greeted us at top volume, and the few remaining people who hadn’t yet noticed us looked up to see who we were. I could feel my face burning. She was looking elegant; sipping a glass of white wine and sitting on a bar stool next to a fat, angry looking man with a beard and a red nose, in a black polo neck.

My heart sank further. He was the worst of them all – sometimes he actually spoke to me –asked me questions - and I was no good at that kind of thing. I tried to hide behind Joel, but it was too late; he’d seen me. He turned around and said “Let me get this; what are you having?”

“Bacardi and coke please”

I had to shout to make myself heard above the din. Oh god oh god, now he was going to say something else. I knew they meant well – they were trying to take an interest. Joel was their pet – they’d all known him since he was a baby. I just wished they wouldn’t – it made it all so much worse. I pretended not to hear the crude joke the fat man made as he passed me my drink, and I moved closer to T. who gave me a sympathetic look.

I forced my mouth into a smile but I was pretty sure it looked unconvincing. Poor Marnie, she was so kind to me and in return I was always tongue-tied with shyness, especially in Soho. I couldn’t help it.

“My young friends. Well well well”

At the sound of the drawling American accent T. flinched; now it was his turn to look alarmed. It was Evelyn – Marnie’s best friend. She was funny for a living - she wrote a satirical column - but she never made us laugh. I thought it was disgusting the way she looked at Joel and T. - she must have been pushing forty at least – the horrible old soak.

It was good in a way that she was there though, because I knew even Joel would speed things up to avoid her – he’d been actively dodging her ever since she’d approached them at the cottage with her top off, trying to join them while they smoked a quick joint in the garden – they’d made their excuses and fled, but she hadn’t taken the hint – probably too drunk – and since then, pursued them relentlessly every time she saw them.

I felt T’s hand slipping out of mine – obviously every man for himself now. Joel was waving goodbye, I could see T at the door already – and then I too aimed myself at the evening sunshine, squeezing through the crush so as not to be left behind.

Once safely outside, we stood for a minute, blinking in the light, laughing with relief. Then Joel waved a note triumphantly;

“Look what Mum gave me – she’s got the new series, isn’t that great? Taxi to the North Star?”

The horror of Soho didn’t really fade for me until we were safely past Swiss Cottage. I have no idea now why we chose to make the North Star our local. It was the ugliest pub I had ever been in and it can’t possibly have been the only place that would serve us.

There was never anyone there – even on a Friday night. The only regular was the man from James Bond. He was our running joke – we pretended he was actually dead because he sat in the same spot night after night, never moving, never speaking, all alone, at the downstairs bar. We took one look, as we always did, to see if he was there, and then went up the stairs, where it was even uglier. Fleetwood Mac was playing on the jukebox, and we settled ourselves nearest the snooker table as usual.

T came back from the bar and put the drinks on the table

“I think we should drink to you” he said, raising his glass, “fucking brilliant scam”

I smiled. It had been fun that afternoon – and my turn for once. Joel and T. had waited outside at a safe distance. I’d been reluctant at first;

“Can’t you do it T?, You’re much better at lying”

“No, no – you look the most innocent, and you’re a girl – you’ll walk it – here’s what to say.”

It had taken two southern comforts and half an hour’s practice before I was ready to enter the welfare officer’s room. I had kept my eyes fixed on the Release poster behind the man’s head – trying hard not to let them wander down to his socks and sandals in case I laughed. It had been easier than I’d thought once I’d got into the flow.

Halfway through I’d realised I was actually giving a pretty accurate description of my parents - the irrational rages, the accusations of failure, the constant shouting. Being shown the door, and needing a little bit of help, just to get by, was untrue. It was my choice to never be there, and I didn’t need any help - not while I had Joel and T waiting outside. I tried hard not to let the impatience show in my voice. When I had run out of words, I rubbed my eye and sniffed, like T. had said. The man pushed the box of tissues towards me and began unlocking a drawer.

Five minutes later, I was dancing down the corridor, laughing and waving fifteen quid in the air, and five minutes after that we were in a taxi, heading for Maxwells in Hampstead, and I was trying to hold my hand still enough to reapply my eye makeup while Joel held the mirror for me.

At The North Star, on the uncomfortable slippery plastic bench, I lifted my glass off the sticky table and beamed across at the two people I loved most in the world. I looked at Joel’s floppy blonde hair, and T’s big encouraging smile, and I felt completely happy.