Morrow Point

Our Pact

Owen Townend

Another night out in the cold, in a dress that barely protects against it. I cut through the park, clutching a man’s dinner jacket around my shoulders. Which man? I don’t know. One of the bastards who left the club with the dizzy blondes.

Leaves rustle around me and over my head but it’s so black I can’t see why. It’s probably the wind but could be an animal. Maybe it’s not such a good idea to be out here so late, alone. There was that young girl, that student, who got cornered in a nearby park by the Frenzy Boys last month. It was awful, the state they left her in.

Then again, if I stay on the level nearest the road and take the shortcut that the dogwalkers use, I’ll be out of here in no time. If only I could be sure where that shortcut is. The street lamps on this side of the park flicker a sickly yellow light that is already giving me a headache.

I switch on my phone’s torch app. As it moves along the hedgerow, something snaps. I clench up. Oh God. The Frenzy Boys. What if they’re prowling round all the parks? They stabbed the girl all over her neck and left her in a heap of dirt. Why did I just offer myself up as their next bloody victim?

“Ellie,” a male voice says. It’s familiar.

“Keith?” I reply.

His shoe scrapes against the crazy paving and he moves out from behind a chestnut tree. His face looks pale in my torchlight but he doesn’t blink or shrink away. Instead he holds up a hand to protect his eyes, casual as you’d like. That’s Keith all right.

I lower my phone and he stands across from me, hands in his leather jacket pockets.

“Long time,” he starts.

“No see,” I finish.

We both chuckle nervously.

We used to work together, at a club called Sweet Flame. We both tended bar there for a year and a half before our shifts finally joined up. That first night it was just us two, business was quiet so we had to entertain ourselves.

I started singing along to She’s Not There by the Zombies. As I hit the chorus, I found Keith’s baritone harmonising with me.

“Good song,” he said as I tailed off.

“I’m embarrassed,” I replied with a smile.

“Don’t be. I wish more people were into the Zombies.”

“And Sixties music in general.”

Keith nodded enthusiastically. “But instead everyone listens to Beyonce clearing her throat and whatever bassline track is trending.”

“Followers.” I sighed.

“Zombies,” we both said.

From that day onward, we became inseparable. We grabbed coffees in the morning, synched up suppers and sang duets on Karaoke Fridays. We kept each other laughing and commiserated over every failed attempt at promotion and bad date. I do miss those days.

Back in the present, Keith clears his throat.

“So, how have you been keeping?”

“All right,” I lie. “You?”

“Managing.”

“You mean managing as in getting on or…”

“No. Actually managing.” He points a thumb over his shoulder. “I oversee a place called Essence on the other side of town. You know it?”

“Yeah!” I say. Essence is a popular joint though the staff are a gloomy lot. The last time I went in, the management were drinking red wine in the balcony above the dancefloor. Strange to think of Keith being among them.

“Well, drop my name and you’ll get VIP treatment.”

“Fantastic.” The smile feels tight on my face. I am pleased for him, I just wish I wasn’t scraping by. These days my line of work is nowhere near as impressive as being a manager, or even a bartender for that matter. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Keith says, foot rasping against the paving again, like he’s building himself up to something. A question. “So you remembered then.”

“Remembered what?”

“Meeting here. Our pact.”

“Sorry?”

Oh God. I do remember. The details are hazy but the regret is clear enough.

“You know what,” I said one night after finishing a shift at Sweet Flame. I had drunk a yard and a half of IPA within the first ten minutes. “We should make an agreement.”

“What?” Keith asked, bleary from his umpteenth shot of vodka.

“You know. If we’re still single ten years from now, we get together.”

He squinted at me. His face was so red and sweaty. “You mean like a pact?”

“Yeah.” I giggled. “Another round?”

Whatever I brought back from the bar after that conversation wiped the rest of my memory clean. Keith’s too, or so he claimed at the time.

I had been joking about that stupid pact. Of course I hadn’t meant it. Why did he have to bring it up again and make it real?

Keith steps a little closer now.

I raise both hands. “Keith…I…”

“You forgot?” he asks. “Seriously?”

“I’m sorry,” I say. “Normally I wouldn’t suggest a…”

“Pact?”

“Yes. One of those. I mean, I must have been drinking.” I take a deep breath. 

His face falls. “I wouldn’t normally keep track. But it felt like you meant it.”

Oh God. I thought he wasn’t the kind of guy who got stuck on that nonsense. Don’t tell me he fancied me all this time. 

“Sorry, Keith,” is all I can say.

He looks up at me again. His amber eyes are so intense. Amber? I’m sure his eyes used to be brown. Maybe he’s wearing contacts. It suits him, particularly when he smiles like that.

“Ellie,” he says, “I get it. You’re different. I’m different. We’re no longer those two workmates making the best of a bad hand. We’re wiser now, not to mention sober. But are we both happy?”

“I’m happy,” I say.

“Are you sure about that?”

Speaking of different, there’s something new in his tone. Confidence. Passion. It’s a little intimidating but then I look deeper into his eyes and…well, it intrigues me.

“No,” I whisper.

What am I doing? I haven’t seen Keith in years and here I am confessing to something I wouldn’t even tell my mum. So I pull away.

“No,” I say again. “I’m saying no to this, Keith.”

“OK,” he says, “but hear me out. I’m not happy, Ellie. I’ve got the job that I’ve always wanted, some degree of power to boot, but I am not happy. The fact is, I haven’t been happy since our bartending days. I think it’s because I miss you.”

My breath catches in my throat. He’s so much closer now. Either he’s quick or the dark and the pact have set my head spinning. 

“It’s taken me some time to realise that,” Keith continues, “but I’ve never been more sure. I want to be with you. Do you want to be with me?”

Another ‘no’ is on the tip of my tongue, but it doesn’t come out. I’m too distracted by how clear his skin looks now, how beautifully his fringe frames his face. It may be the fact he is wearing black in shadows, but Keith looks thinner, more athletic. And where did that chin dimple come from?

What is wrong with me? How has he dredged all this up?

“I…” I say, “I need…time. To think.”

Keith holds my gaze, as if he is reading it.

“OK,” he eventually replies. “Of course. I’m coming on pretty strong. Sorry. You need your space.”

Finally it feels like I can step back. Not sure what was stopping me before but it must have been pretty strong.

Keith looks down at his shoes. “Just promise me this. If you do think this could be something, come back here same time tomorrow night. I’ll be here.”

“OK,” I find myself saying. I don’t relish coming back here after dark again but I suppose I owe it to Keith. If I really see a future with him, that is. God. I need to think.

Keith offers a sad smile. “Anyway, take care, Ellie.”

He turns. His clothes are so black that, when he has passed beyond the streetlight, I can’t tell exactly where he is in the gloom beyond.

What a turn-up. A bad night made strange. Keith and our bloody pact.

With a shiver, I raise my phone and track down the shortcut. One thing is for certain. If I do come back here tomorrow night, I’ll be wearing a jumper.

The following morning, I wake up heavy with last night’s promise. Having splashed my face with water and eaten a slice of toast, I force myself to think about what I said when I made the pact. Not easy, considering how sloshed I was.

If we’re still single ten years from now, we get together.

That was the crux of it. Hardly a pact. I mean, I can’t recall putting it down on a piece of paper and signing my life away. Then again, that would be a contract.

What’s a pact then? Something blokes do to show that they’re macho and noble. Nick the palms of their hands and shake. Blood pacts.

I don’t remember taking a knife to my hand that night. Also the way I made the suggestion was aloof, like when a drinking buddy suggests grabbing a kebab. How could anyone take that seriously?

Keith must have been sober at the time. He must have already wanted to hear something like that. How could I have missed him fancying me? These days I have a laser focus for it. Back when I was bartending, I just shrugged off strange looks from men. You have to or else you won’t ever see a shift through. 

I can’t be in the house. Grabbing my keys, I go for a run. Not to the park, obviously.

When I’ve got to make a hard decision, I take it to the canal side. Something about the ripples of the water relaxes me. Well, when there isn’t a trolley obstructing the flow or algae hiding it.

I glance at my watch. I’ve been running an hour now and I still can’t get his face out of my head. Since when did Keith look so good? So pale too. It must have been a trick of the light or lack of it.

Except for those eyes. They must have been contacts. No-one’s eyes look so naturally amber, so piercing. I can’t say I’ve ever found a man’s eyes his most attractive feature but…

Keith. Why did it take you so long to make a move? I’m not saying you should have, that would have ruined our working relationship, but you always seemed a straight shooter. Nothing held back.

Also why is this pact so important to you now? Can’t you see it was the drink talking back then? Unless, even then I…I felt…

No. I didn’t fancy Keith. I don’t fancy Keith. My God, he was talking to me like he knew I would go along with his idea. Mr Slick. Like all men with a little power, he thinks he can give me the world. Well no, Keith, you may be a manager of Essence but you’re not managing me. You couldn’t afford me.

It would be nice to not have to worry about money but, what would following through on his pact mean? Me being some kept woman. Maybe one of many. How would that be any different from my current job? Restrictive. Coercive.

But last night I did see the Keith I remember. Gentle. Considerate. But will that be him the whole time? God knows, I’ve dealt with men who are kind at first. Ducked the blows that come later, called the police, got right out of there.

Who am I kidding? That’s been happening enough lately with random guys I’ve met at bars. At least I know Keith of old, even have a few of his secrets stored away.

Between another night when the guy leaves with some blonde with a big bust despite whatever I say, and meeting Keith in the park to discuss terms of some pact, I know which I would find more comfortable. Sure, there’s not much sense in it but…well…I just can’t get his face out of my head.

After stretching on a flaking bench, I run so hard that my heart thumping and blood pumping stops me from thinking completely.

Against my better judgement, I’ve returned to the park tonight. Of course it’s tempting fate. I may still turn and run from whatever Keith suggests, waste his time as well as my own. But then perhaps some part of me did remember that reckless pact after all these years and brought me to where I needed to be yesterday. Where I should be now. I suppose I’ll know when I see him.

Though my teeth aren’t chattering, I do feel stupid. Exposed. So far, no Frenzy Boys. Weren’t they seen around Essence recently? No victims reported there but you never know. There could be a connection between the two, an affiliation. Jesus. Don’t keep me waiting, Keith. Two more minutes and I’m gone.

A familiar scraping footstep. He seems to slide out of the shadows, thumbing away a stain at the corner of his mouth. Then, looking straight at me, he smiles and closes the distance between us.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Ellie.”

I hold up a hand. “First things first, if we’re actually doing this, I want a trial period. If it doesn’t feel right after a month, I’m out. OK?”

He shrugs. “Sure. But I don’t think you’ll want to go back.”

“Is that a threat?” I swallow.

Keith’s hungry expression softens. “No. Of course not. I’m just speaking from experience. I love my life now.”

“But you said you weren’t happy.”

“I love my life but it’s lonely. If I share it with you, I think it will be even better. For both of us.”

There he goes again, confidence bordering on chauvinism. Do I really want to be with such a man? I may never recapture what drew me to Keith in the first place.

And yet I can’t deny that the man he is now intrigues me. It’s like Keith has more of a presence, out here in the dark. He’s handsome and comforting and stands far taller than any other guy I’ve met. It’s a risk but one that I think I should take. I don’t want the life I have these days. It’s exhausting, humiliating and hurts. My God it can hurt. It’s so…lonely.

I peer deep into his amber eyes and can feel tears prickling the corners of mine. But I don’t blink. If I blink, that’s my nerve gone. I’ve got to be strong, stand firm. I need…

“OK,” I choke.

“Is that yes?” Keith asks, hope glimmering his gaze.

I cough. “Yes. It’s yes. OK?”

He nods. “Thank you, Ellie.”

Keith moves a little closer. He brushes the loose strand of hair from my cheek. I feel the heat of his breath against my lips. I was so scared that him being so close to me would go against my memory of him, but it’s the kind of embrace I’ve needed for a long time. Keith from Sweet Flame. Who would have thought it would be him? Us?

With some hesitation, Keith and I kiss.

It’s so weird. It’s actually perfect. His lips are surprisingly cold but the passion makes up for it. I can feel he’s wanted this for so long. So have I, against all odds. His arms encircle me, like I’ve needed for such a long time. Keith’s body feels right pressed against mine. Like he’s there but not overwhelmingly so. In fact, I don’t recall his embrace ever feeling so light. Has this been what I’ve wanted all along? No wonder no other man has ever had a chance.

He pulls away.
“This is going to work,” Keith whispers into my ear. “Trust me.”

I make a throaty noise in agreement.

“No,” he says, gripping my shoulders. “Really. It will feel weird at first but trust that it will be all right.”

“All right,” I repeat without thinking. My ear tingles with his every word.

Then he begins kissing my neck. He runs his teeth along the soft flesh. Kinky…

He bites down. I jump but he holds me in place.

“Jesus!”

Keith sucks. Something warm trickles to my shoulder. Blood?

I try to wrestle free of his grip but it just tightens around me.

“Keith!” I screech. “No!”

Finally he steps back. Fangs stick out over his red bottom lip.

I slap him. I punch his face but he catches my fist. All the while, he wears that well-meaning, nervous smile. Liar. He bloody hurt me.

“No, I didn’t,” Keith says, as if he can hear my thoughts. “Ellie, this is my life now.”

“A murderer?”

He shakes his head. “You know what I am.”

A vampire?

He nods. “Now you are too.”

I gasp. “You’re insane!”

Keith sighs. “In a short while, you’ll realise I’m not.” His amber eyes gleam.

“But this…” I struggle for something he’ll respond to. “It isn’t part of the pact!”

He offers an apologetic smile. “I know and I am sorry for not being more open about who I am now. What I am. What we are.” He sighs. “But this counts. We get together.”

“I don’t want this anymore.”

“Neither did I when Essence recruited me.” 

“Essence?” Breath catches in my throat.

He holds me close. “It gets better. You’ll be all right.”

I try to fight him off but, after the fourth or fifth slap, a strange fatigue takes over. Keith seems to know, letting me nuzzle into his neck. His pale, perfect neck with old bite marks.

“I won’t…” I say.

“We will,” Keith whispers again. “We will be all right.”

The lamplight is fading. Cold hits my bones. But I feel…safe. Yes. Safe.

***

We’re safe. It’s been a little over a month now but Keith and I are still together. Of course, there was a period of upset and depression but he was so patient with me and didn’t force any new changes until it was time. His guilt made him a much better partner than he first promised.

Now I’m pleased to say that we’re out most nights. He got me a job at Essence, not a management position but I am working on that. Just so long as they don’t put me in charge of The Frenzy Boys, I’ll be happy enough.

Tonight we’re at the club, leaning over the balcony as the drunken dregs slowly clear out. Keith starts humming along to a song I didn’t expect to be on the playlist.

“Really?” I say. “Werewolves of London?”

Keith smiles. “Don’t you think it’s a good song?”

“I do but aren’t we supposed to dislike them?”

“I’ve yet to meet one,” he says, “so I’ll withhold judgement.”

It goes without saying that I’m in the same situation. There is so much of this world that I’ve yet to see. For the time being though, I just sing along.

“You better stay away from him, he’ll rip your lungs out Jim…”

Just as Warren Zevon hits the second ‘Ah-hoo’ of his chorus, I spy a familiar shape down below. A man slumped over a circular table, drink still firmly in hand. As I eye up his expensive suit, I reach for my forearms on instinct. Of course. That’s the guy who gave me his jacket and left me alone not so long ago. Well, a lifetime technically.

“What do you think?” I ask Keith, pointing at the lush.

“Looks like he’s been drinking whiskey all night,” he says, running his tongue over his fangs. “His blood will reek of it.”

“Come on,” I say, nudging him. “Are you really going to let those rosy cheeks go to waste?”

Keith regards me with his amber eyes. He still looks so effortlessly handsome. Then again, my face seems to suit pale skin too and my own amber eyes are much more striking than when they were blue. His chin dimple twitches as he grins.

“Go on then,” he says. “I cut his throat but you drink first. Deal?”

I smirk. “A pact, you mean.”

---

“People change, and sometimes a promise given years ago must change with them. This story lies right in the middle of one of my favorite genres, which of course got my attention. But it’s so much more than that, which kept me reading. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.” – Roxanne Skelly, Guest Editor