Greg slipped into the
seat next to Jessie almost at the same time as I vacated it. His pliant body
wrapped itself around the young woman like ivy around a trellis. Jessie flinched
slightly as his scaly hand rested itself on the bare skin between the top of
the skirt and the bottom of her top.
“How you doing?” he
hissed, his hand slithering down her leg and resting on her knee, but he didn't
wait for an answer; he just started talking in about his latest success
speaking barely above a whisper so Jessie had to lean in closer and closer to
hear his voice in the raucous bar.
His tongue seemed to
dart in and out between his thin lips as he spoke, almost licking Jessie's skin
with every sentence. Jessie was disappearing, Greg filling the space that she
vacated; constricting her, trapping her in her seat. By the time I came back
from the toilet he'd almost surrounded her. He stared at me. His dark beady
eyes said that I was certainly no long welcome and inviting me to vanish.
I sat down despite the
venomous eyes. I wasn't interested in Jessie myself, but I felt she might need
some support.
“So,” I said, “what are
your plans for Christmas.” I wasn't interested in festive frolics but anything
to take Greg's attention away from Jessie.
“Not much,” he said not
taking his eyes away from his prey.
There wasn’t one
scream, there was a multitude of them, all different pitches, all different
volumes, but all saying something serious was wrong. Tables went flying, chairs
were like skittles, the retreat was in full flight. Soon the left-hand side of
the pub was almost completely empty. On the other side of the clearing, I could
see what looked like a blackish brown snake under a table.
“It’s a fucking black
mamba!” someone said.
“It’s just a toy,” said
Greg, barely looking away from Jessie.
“It’s no toy,” someone
else said. “It’s hissing.”
“Well it’s probably
just an adder then, it won’t do anyone any harm.”
‘You pick it up then,”
said the barman.
Greg unfurled himself
from Jessie and walked towards the hissing creature. He crouched down on his
haunches and put out a hand to allow the snake to sniff him, like it was a dog.
He waited a moment, the black beady eyes of the snake staring into his. Then,
he leant forward, but the alcohol in his system meant he moved too quickly. The
snake sprang as quick as you like, people screamed and the remaining tables
scattered as it flung itself at Greg and then sidewound back under the tables
in the corner.
“Don’t worry,” Greg said,
“adder bites aren’t poisonous to humans.” And then with perfect comic timing,
he keeled over onto the floor.
No one moved, no one
went to help him, not while the wild snake lurked menacingly.
I could see tiny pricks
of blood on Greg’s neck and his body shook with spasms. Then he was still.
Three weeks after the
funeral, I met Jessie on the off chance.
‘I’ve just had a new
tattoo, wanna see it?”
I nodded.
She lifted her shirt to
reveal a black mamba slithering up across her belly where there was bare skin
between the top of the skirt and the bottom of her top.
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