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“I’m going to visit you again then.”
“I can’t stop you. I also can’t stop you taking my things. You should know they’re only things and they’re replaceable.”
“We won’t steal your things.?
? That’s exactly what it would be, theft, and it was against their Homeless Persons Charter. But he had no protection from other people stealing them.
He inclined his head. “You don’t want to lose your expense account.”
“I promise you on my meagre expense allowance that my conniving, promotion-snatching boss has to sign off, and will probably query, we won’t ever take your possessions from you.”
He stood up and turned to face her. This time he really was ending the meeting. “It was nice to meet you, Foley.”
She stood too, picking up the rubbish from their breakfast. “It was nice to meet you too, Drum. Is that your surname? I half expected you to be a musician.”
“It’s the only name you need for me.”
“You don’t play an instrument?”
“I’ll show you out.”
She laughed again, but if he hid a smile it was under his lowered head. “I’ll see myself out.” She stepped up on the first rock foothold.
“Thank you for breakfast.”
“Council’s pleasure.” She stepped up on the second foothold and turned to see if he was watching. He’d disappeared. There was a back way out of here.
Sneaky bastard.
4: Intimidated
Drum knew Foley would be back. She was one of those determined people, not easily put off or intimidated. Not that he’d deliberately tried to intimidate her, and he was sure that capability was still in his DNA, but he didn’t want to see her again.
She was too glossy, too pretty, so bright and fresh, he had trouble looking at her. He’d almost forgotten himself and enjoyed her company and it was more than being starved for social contact. He had plenty of opportunity to be social if he wanted it. He didn’t. And he didn’t want her coming back.
So he avoided her. He left home before the sun came up. He stayed out later than normal and in general avoided the cave until it was dark. She was too smart to try climbing down there at night with only her questions and her reasons. But she wasn’t smart enough to give up on him. Didn’t she know she would break herself on him like waves on rocks; that he wasn’t worth the effort? That if she offered to give him anything in the world he wanted, it would be this: an edge to remind him to live, a hole to hide in, an existence that didn’t use much, take anything from anyone, or cause anyone pain.
Still she persisted. One morning she left him a chocolate muffin and a fruit salad. The birds got the muffin, and he refused to waste the fruit. One night he got home to find she’d brought him a bag of oranges and a big cask of spring water. She’d had to hump both under the railing and down to the cave. She might’ve fallen and hurt herself. He didn’t want her bribes, her expense account charity. He didn’t deserve it.
He was contemplating the oranges when they came. Three of them, over the top ledge, laughing and swearing, stumbling. He could smell the beer. He wasn’t quick enough to extinguish his lamp. They saw its glow and like fat moths they were on it, sliding, tripping, pushing each other and jumping the distance between the two ledges, not careful of the edge, made from audacity and recklessness.
One of them tripped, landing on his knees laughing then whimpering, an elbow scraped bloody. One of them went to the edge and threw a bottle into the nothing dark.
The third said, “Hey man. What is this about then?” He was cold, calm. He was the leader. He had power in his body and calculation in his eyes.
The one on his knees lay out flat with a drawn-out moan. “Do you live here?” He was the youngest of them. He’d be the easiest. The one most at risk. “He bloody lives here. Look, he’s got a bed and stuff.” He sat up. “That’s mad. Are you a Looney Toon, dude? A bit Daffy Duck, eh?”
Drum had a decision to make. But this had never happened before. Before Foley, if anyone came over the ledge it was daylight and they were tourists. They wanted stories and pictures. They wanted him to be something special, novel, entertainment. He disappointed them. He didn’t speak to them and they went away. If they didn’t go, he did. It was simple. No one got hurt. But this, this wasn’t so simple. Someone could be hurt and it would be his fault again. They wouldn’t have come here except for the light. He had to stay. Get them to leave. He took a seat at the table.
“Can he talk? Maybe he can’t talk?” That was the chatterbox on the ground again.
The leader stalked around him. “I think he can talk. I don’t think he likes us. What have you got here, got money?” He signalled to the kid. “Get off your arse and go check.”
Drum watched the one at the edge, rocking back and forward on his feet. He’d discovered the edge of the world and he might fall over it.
“Look at this view. A million dollars. A billion dollars,” he said, arms thrown out. He was one of those guys who, when confronted with a gap, tried to fill it whether it needed to be filled or not.
All most people saw when they were in trouble was the money. When they realised it couldn’t fix everything, that’s when their anger burned them up.
