Chapter 6: Heavy Metal
By the time we finally extricated ourselves, thanked Ruth for all her hospitality, each of us in turn crushed within her embrace, and sorted out with Nugget where we were going, it was about half past six in the evening.
'Takes about two hours on a bike,' said Nugget, 'three in a car.'
'Two and a half it is then,' said Stokes, giving me a wink.
We stood under the shelter of the house to wave Wilhelmina off and then prepared to leave ourselves, Stokes and Selkie rode in my car, Nugget, Corner, and two others drove on ahead.
'Is it safe to ride bikes with this much water on the ground?' I asked Corner.
'It isn't safe to ride bikes,' he replied.
'I reckon you two are going to want to talk even more than you did under that tree,' said Stokes climbing into the back of my car, 'so I'll just go to sleep if it's all the same to you.' And sure enough, before we were even out of Swindon, he had closed his eyes and was gently snoring.
'It's amazing,' said Selkie leaning round to look at him, 'he's always been able to sleep anywhere just like that. I wish I could.'
I watched the road, the taillights of the bikes shivered in the rain and reflected in dappled shimmering lines on the wet surface of the road. I would rather be in a car, I thought.
'There will be floods soon,' I said, peering upwards into the dark sky as if expecting to find some end to the rain.
'But hosepipe bans come summer,' said Selkie.
'You really are a Telegraph reader aren't you.'
She laughed and said 'not religiously.'
I paused. 'You were in the Black Goat weren't you?'
'A long time ago,' she said.
'Why?'
'Like Stokes said, I was looking for the real thing.'
'I've seen what you can do, it looked pretty real to me.'
'I was young,' she said, 'I wanted more.'
'And was it as bad as he said, is that why you left?'
'I was the typical Black Goat acolyte,' she said, 'I messed about with druidic rituals, I smoked some weed, took some acid, and had a lot of fun, but I was smart enough to see it was all bullshit and knowledgeable enough to know there could be more. So I went up to the Scotland and they took me in for a bit, but I got freaked out by what they were doing, not to mention sick of living like a wild animal, and I left before I had to spend a winter there.'
'What did they do,' I said, 'that freaked you out?'
'It's not what they did so much its¦ they were in to ritual sacrifice of animals like Stokes said, but you could see it meant nothing to them, they could kill a person just as easily, they were¦ they were beyond a point at which life and death have any meaning.'
'So you just left.'
'I had my doubts, and I got to thinking that if they discovered I had my doubts it might be me on that alter. Not that I hadn't already been on the alter once or twice' she smiled mischievously, 'sex was still a big part of it.'
'Sex?'
'Hell yeah, why do you think everybody does it, dropping tabs and chanting up the sun is only so much fun. Fertility ritual is just another word for orgy.'
'So not only have you been part of the Black Goat, you've slept with them.'
'What did you think, that I was saving myself till you came along.'
I looked sideways at her and she smirked wickedly. 'You're teasing me,' I said.
'Yeah, but you shouldn't be bothered by that sort of thing it's just part of the scene. Sex with druids is strange,' she said, 'one the one hand they are in tune with the natural rhythms of the earth, which is kind of hot, but on the other hand they don't tend to shower very often.'
We drove on in silence for a bit, passing from an unlit cross country artery onto a brightly illuminated town bypass. The yellow light casting the world as an unnaturally distinct, sharp, video image, the spray kicked up by the motorbikes, the reflected streetlights brushing over the slick black leathers of the bikers, the bright headlights of oncoming traffic broken up by the rain. It looked more like a painting than the real world, more like a rendered computer graphic. And then in minutes we passed back onto dark A-roads, the world formless and intangible again, shadows and ghosts crowding in on either side as we raced between islands of light.
'Why are you doing this?' I asked.
'Doing what.'
'This, driving around the country looking for a druid sect when you could be sat at home in the warm and dry.'
'Gets me out of the house,' she said completely deadpan.
'You mentioned in the pub that you were part of an organisation.'
'It's a coven,' she said.
'A coven?'
'And no we don't dance around naked, ride on broomsticks, gather around caldrons, or predict the fates of Scottish kings. I have never made anybody's crops fail or made anybody's cow give sour milk.'
'Do you have a pointy hat?' I asked, because I could not resist asking. She hit me in the shoulder, which I probably deserved.
'Matter of fact,' she said, 'mum and I are the only ones in the UK. There are five of us in total. We mostly just send each other e-mails. And no, to answer your next question, we have no sacred duty to defend these shores, or battle druid sects, but there are very few of us with the knowledge to do so, so we do what we can.'
'Is it really illegal?'
'What?'
'What you do.'
'And what do I do?'
'You know what I mean, being a witch.'
'Technically,' she said, 'there's a lot of laws still on the statue books from the middle ages.'
'And this branch of the home office, the witch finders?'
'They don't actually normally find witches, but there are dark forces at work in this country, the Black Goat to name one, they are the governments rather inadequate response.'
'So why aren't they after the Black Goat themselves?'
'That,' said Selkie, 'is a very good question.'
Eventually we arrived in Bedford and followed Nugget through the one way system to the club, by the time we had found somewhere to park and walked back it was nearly ten o-clock. As I held the door open whilst he clambered sleepily out of the back seat Stokes said 'you know, we all did stupid things when we were young.'
'I thought you were asleep,' I said.
'I was,' he said, 'but it was pretty obvious what you two were going to talk about.'
There was a short queue standing outside the door shivering and cursing the rain which Corner bypassed entirely, going straight up to the bouncer and shaking the man vigorously by the hand, which is an expression I mean literally, he shook the whole man, by his hand, and the bouncer was not small. Some agreement was reached and we were let straight in, somebody from the queue complained and Corner shouted out 'sorry, but I'm old, I can't go standing out in the rain, but you young folks, it'll do you good, build character.' He laughed loudly at his own joke, made sure we all got in ahead of us, and waved goodbye to the sulking queue.
We were in a cramped entrance hall the end of which was packed with people moving between the bar and the toilets, Nugget arranged us in a circular queue and shepherded us each in turn past the ticket window, Selkie only having to give me a quick apologetic look before I paid for her. It was only five pounds. Nugget directed us up a short thing staircase to where we emerged in a small room with a bar at one end and a stage at the other. At the bar Corner was already situated talking to another bouncer, on the stage were five teenagers making as much of a racket as they could out of a rig designed for a room at least four times larger. A singer stalked from side to side clutching a microphone in white knuckles and shouting into it like he was really mad about something, but not making himself clear enough that anyone had a hope of working out what. Behind him a gawky long haired band played to themselves, apparently oblivious to the crowd, except for the girl on keyboards who occasionally let a shy smile emerge briefly from behind an unruly mop of black and red hair. One of the bikers asked what I'd like to drink and I ordered a coke.
'Is this pagan rock then?' I shouted to Nugget who stood right by me.
'Nah,' he shouted back into my ear, 'this is the support act. I don't know what you'd call them, sort of goth grindcore I suppose. Not bad though.'
I was handed my drink and stood and rocked back and forth slightly on my heels, the sticky floor sucking at the soles of my feet. I hadn't been anywhere like this in years. I felt simultaneously out of place and back home again, and the out of place was only the sobriety speaking.
The crowd was thin but enthusiastic, they jumped around and collided with each other, they head-banged, they threw up the horns. They did not, I noticed, look like druids, even accounting for the lack of robes.
'Thank you,' said the singer, intelligible for the first time, 'we are the Sumerians good night.'
In the momentary quiet that followed before the DJ started up I asked Nugget what the band we were here to see were called.
'The Munstermen,' he said, 'they're from Norway. I wouldn't go nuts over them but they're rocking live.'
'What is it that makes Pagan Rock pagan?'
'Fucked if I know, it's more about who listens to it and what they wear than what it sounds like. Me, I just like what rocks.'
I nodded, it struck me as a very astute answer. Nugget waved a fist with the index and little fingers extended in the sign of the devil's horns and shouted 'Heavy fucking metal man, heavy fucking metal,' which struck me as slightly less astute. Over his shoulder I saw Selkie gesturing to me so I went and talked to her.
She was standing with Corner and Stokes talking to a tall, thin, long haired man in black jeans and a black t-shirt with a skull on it. 'This is Ambrose,' she said, 'he's part of the druid scene from way back.' Ambrose looked more like a network admin guy than a druid to me, but what did I know.
'I was just saying to your friends,' said Ambrose, shouting slowly and clearly despite the relative quiet, 'I had heard the Black Goat was abroad, but no more than that.'
'He means abroad as in not at home,' said Corner, 'not another country.'
'I haven't heard anything about them leaving Britain,' shouted Ambrose, 'I'd just heard they were back down south.'
'I get it,' I said, 'abroad in the Tolkein sense.'
'Johannes might no more,' shouted Ambrose.
'Who is Johannes?' asked Stokes.
Ambrose extended a long thin nicotine stained finger towards the stage. 'That's Johannes,' he said.
On the stage, to the a loud approving roar of the crowd, appeared a figure hidden under a long hooded cowl carrying a fender telecaster. Behind him half a dozen similarly hooded figures took up positions. They stood without moving, apparently starring down the crowd, who gradually stilled and quietened, the lights dropped till there was only a dim green glow illuminating the band. Slowly, by degrees, an ominous driving bass line began to build, joined by a muffled but insistent drum beat. As it built the front man pointed out to us as Johannes raised his right hand, the crowd answering the salute in kind. Then, when the crowd were risen to a tremulous frenzy of tension, he dropped it and the entire band launched into an ear-splitting assault of what I can only describe as really awful heavy metal.
Ambrose dropped his head and oscillated it up and down and back and forth in a cascading waterfall of hair. Nugget punched the air and barged his way forwards through the crowd to the front. Corner stood with a fist clenched to one side punching the air in time to the music. I caught Selkie's eyes and she stuck her tongue out and mimed two fingers down her throat, I grimaced back, she gestured towards the door, I nodded, she grabbed Stokes and the three of us headed out.
'That was,' I said once we were out in the relative quiet of the stairwell, and then struggled for words, 'err¦ just¦ bad.'
'Yeah man,' said Stokes, 'they're no Sabbath.'
'You saw Sabbath?'
'Hell yeah,' he said, 'back in the day. Fucking Ozzy Osbourne man, he was wild, had these eyes.' He pointed to his own eyes with two hooked fingers,. though I don't think he meant Ozzy had those very eyes he was now sporting.
'This is a washout,' said Selkie, and she sat down on the steps. 'A complete waste of time.'
I walked down to a lower step. 'Yeah,' I said, 'but I quite liked the support act.'
'That's not what I meant.'
'I know.'
'Nobody here knows a thing. Just a bunch of posers and washouts.'
I yawned loudly. It had been a long day.
'We may as well stay to the end,' said Stokes, 'maybe this bloke Johannes can help.'
'I doubt it,' said Selkie.
'Well he'd got to be good for something other than making heavy metal,' said Stokes.
The music momentarily raised in volume as a man nearly the size of Corner but with a lot more hair walked out the door and picked his was past us. 'Bit shit isn't it?' he said. We nodded. 'They do a club night downstairs that's normally okay.'
'Cheers,' said Stokes.
'You folks come far?'
'You could say that.'
He gave us a cherubic and apologetic smile from behind a thick black goatee beard and then left. We sat in silence and watched him go.
'I've been meaning to ask,' I said, 'why do they call you Stokes?'
'I drive a steam train,' said Stokes with a grin, 'run a miniature railway in Watford.'
'A miniature railway?'
'Yes.'
'Cool.'
Selkie gave me a look of utter despair.
'What,' I said, 'miniature railways are cool.' She shook her head. Stokes laughed.
'Why is Corner called Corner?'
'He came off on one once,' said Stokes, 'years and years ago. Somewhere in Whales I think, went skidding down this bank, broke something like half the bones in his body. Anyway when everyone stops and runs down to him, they know not to move him, but they open his helmet visor and he says "who put that bloody corner there? and then passes out. After that everyone called him Corner.'
'Where you there?'
'No that was ages before we met.'
'Where did you meet?'
'At a Yes concert, he talked me down off this really fucking bad trip. I mean really really bad 'cos that was shortly after I'd met Vinny, Selkie's mother, and I'd had the doors of my perception blown wide open by some of the things she'd shown me so when I saw scary shit, well it wasn't so easy for me to believe it wasn't actually happening anymore. And I was seeing all sorts of scary shit, devils pulling people's' guts out their arseholes, that sort of thing. But Corner he just turns up, and he's the most solid real thing there, and he's got this sort of zen cool about him, so when he talks I believe it. Really helped me out then 'cos I was about ready to gouge out my eyes or something.'
Selkie cringed.
The door opened again and somebody else left the gig, I recognised him as the front man of the support band. 'Hey,' he said, 'are you the folks asking about druids?'
'Are we just asking everyone here now?' said Selkie.
'Might as well do,' said Stokes.
'Hell,' said Selkie, 'we'll get badges made, ask me about druids.'
'Well,' said the kid at the door, 'is it you or not?'
'Yeah,' said Selkie with a sigh, 'it's us.'
'Well all I was going to say was, there's a bunch of them down near where I live, in Newhaven, been making a nuisance of themselves.'
'Right,' said Selkie, rolling her eyes, 'cheers.'
'Well you were asking,' said the kid and turned to go.
'Hey,' I called to him, 'you were in the support band weren't you?'
'Yeah.'
'You guys were pretty good.'
'Cheers.'
'Hell of a lot better than that lot anyway.'
'Yeah I know,' he said, 'all the way from Norway needn't have fucking bothered.'
'Wait,' said Selkie, 'where did you say you were from?'
'Newhaven.'
'And these druids, they were near there?'
'Yeah.'
'Where exactly?'
'I don't know, somewhere out on the South Downs.'
Selkie looked at Stokes, who looked blankly back at her for a moment and then his jaw dropped and he said 'crap, of course.'
Selkie nodded.
'You mean the long man,' said the kid, 'you get loads of druids out at that.'
'What?' said Selkie, 'oh the chalk man, no not that, the Seven Sisters, the cliffs,' she turned to me, 'it's a very important site.'
'Oh,' I said.
'Anyway, said the kid, 'if you want a lift we can probably fit you in the back of the van. We're already giving a lift to one of these guys' roadies'
We looked at each other. 'Nugget said one of their roadies was ex¦' I said.
'Perhaps not that ex after all,' said Stokes.
'We need to tell Corner,' said Selkie standing up.
'Well,' said the kid, 'do you want a lift or not?'
'No thanks,' said Selkie, 'and don't mention us to this other guy okay.'
'Okay,' said the kid, bemused. Selkie pushed past him and back into the venue. Stokes and I followed.
Inside, the darkness and the loudness of the music disorientated me, everywhere kids cavorted jumping around, throwing themselves into each other, getting in the way. Selkie pointed out Corner, still standing near the bar. She shouted something to Stokes.
'What?' he shouted back.
'Go get Nugget,' she yelled and pointed to the front where Nugget was head banging near the stage. She weaved her way through the crowd towards Corner.
At the side of the stage I noticed a strange figure, not that the figures at the centre of the stage were not strange, but this one was crouched down poised as if ready to leap and swaying from side to side. He did not look like he was listening to the music, he looked like he was watching the crowd. He looked somehow feral. The thought that this might the druid roadie struck me immediately, the thought that he might be dangerous struck me maybe seconds too late.
I went to point him out to Selkie but she was already halfway across the room towards Corner. I looked towards Stokes, who was shouting something to Nugget. I looked again at the figure, who was unmistakably looking at Stokes. He had a knife in one hand. He pounced.
What happened next happened in only a few seconds. The figure leaped maybe eighteen feet to land right on top of Stokes and sink the knife into his chest. I saw them both tumble down beneath the crowd where I could not see them anymore. I saw the silhouette of the knife raised and brought down again. I saw Nugget try to pull the figure off and I saw his throat slit in one swift movement. He stepped backwards and a spray of blood arced up into the green stagelights. The music stopped, the crowd screamed and ran towards the exit. I saw Corner wade through them towards Nugget. Then Selkie grabbed me and together with everyone else we ran for the door.
