Of course! I’m nearly perfect, aren’t I?
Gwen watched as the guy sat down. Ponytail, (too) skinny jeans, black T-shirt with a skull design made 3-D by his beer belly. Too much jewellery. And, oh yes, a mobile phone in a holster. He gave her a big grin, and she just thought, ‘Spots? In your thirties? Oh bless.’
‘Gavin,’ he said, and laughed nervously. ‘This is all right, isn’t it?’
‘Yeah,’ said Gwen. ‘I suppose. I’m Gwen.’
‘Pleased to meet you,’ he said. ‘So, are you into modelling?’ Gwen giggled, despite herself. ‘Bless you! No! God, no! When I was twenty and a twiglet, maybe. But no, not now!’
‘Shame,’ the man sighed, genuinely disappointed. ‘I paint orcs myself.’
‘What?’
‘Model orcs.’
‘Right. Uh.’ Gwen fingered her glass. How do people do this? ‘Any other hobbies?’
‘I love going to the cinema. And gaming. MonstaQuest. And do you play Warcraft?’
‘Dear god, no! My friend Owen used to, all the time.’
‘Really? What’s his username?’
‘Oh, he doesn’t play much any more,’ admitted Gwen, tightly.
‘Pity. I hate it when someone leaves their Guild,’ the man looked genuinely sad. ‘Still, I bet I’ve whipped him a few times.’
‘Are you sure? I think he was pretty good.’
Gavin managed a surprisingly roguish grin. ‘I think I’m better.’
‘OK.’ Gwen thought hard and mustered an interest. What was it the Gavins of the world loved? She tried to remember what the staff were talking about whenever she went to dig Rhys out of Spillers Records. ‘So, what about the cinema – I’m guessing films with a high body count and a big space bang at the end?’
He shrugged. ‘Actually, I’m more into my visceral horror – you know, torture porn? Love that stuff!’
‘Really? I’ve always been a bit squeamish, me,’ said Gwen. ‘Never could stand the sight of blood.’ She looked long and hard at Gavin. Do I really have to talk to this moron for a whole five minutes?
‘Shame,’ continued Gavin. ‘There used to be a few clubs in Cardiff, you know…’ He leaned forward, conspiratorially, his breath catching Gwen like a force field. ‘Tales of all sorts of horrors. Like fight club – but with beasts.’
‘What kind of beasts?’ Gwen was genuinely intrigued.
‘Well, you see, people said it was aliens. Aliens fighting humans. But I don’t believe all that. There’s a lot of conspiracy theories – you know how it is with all the stuff that’s been going on in the last couple of years.’
‘Yeah,’ said Gwen, almost impossibly slowly.
‘But lots of it’s nuts. I mean – all this talk of alien visits, and ships in the sky and so on. But it’s all “a friend of a friend”, isn’t it? Have you ever met anyone who’s actually met an alien? Talked to one? No? I thought not.’ Gavin smiled in a satisfied way.
‘No. Not me. I’ve always lived a quiet life,’ said Gwen.
‘Oh, don’t get me wrong – it’s not all blood and gore for Mr Gavin. Sometimes, I like nothing better than to chill at home with a pizza and some boxsets. That can be dead romantic, can’t it?’
‘Oh god, can it?’ sighed Gwen.
One thing that should have alerted Gwen to the nearby presence of an alien device is the fact that this conversation had only taken ten seconds. She had another four minutes and fifty seconds of speed-dating with Gavin to go. And nothing more to say to him.
Emma was talking to some poor kid. He was babbling away about how awful his flat was. ‘See, this bloke moved back to help his folks run a cinema. He let it out dead cheap, and I thought I had a bargain. Real impressive it is – at the back of an old warehouse. The square footage is amazing, although the bathroom leaks.’
Emma was nodding quietly, trying to imagine him with better skin, or a clean T-shirt, maybe, or a bit Scottish, or blond or something.
‘Thing is, it really is an old warehouse. If I meet a girl out and she comes home, she thinks I’m like a serial killer or something. Honestly, before I even start unbolting the hangar door they’re phoning a cab…’
‘And, actually, at the moment, I’m really into World Music.’
PATRICK MATTHEWS IS VERY MUCH STILL ALIVE
Patrick lifted the rubbish out onto the dumpster. He spun when he heard the footsteps behind him.
‘God!’ he breathed. ‘Ianto! You nearly scared me to death.’ The girl looked genuinely alarmed. ‘Really? Oh, I hope not. I really hope not. Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.’
Patrick smiled. ‘You didn’t, eh? Then what you doing creeping up on me in a dark alley?’
Ianto looked bemused. ‘I’m surprisingly used to alleys.’
‘Is that so?’ He smiled again, and leaned closer. ‘So you really checking up on me, or just trying for a quick snog without Bren noticing?’
Up close, Patrick smelt of fresh hot oil and vinegar. Ianto realised he was breathing quickly. ‘Er,’ he said.
‘Yes?’ Patrick smiled, really amused.
‘Everything been all right? In the shop, and all?’ Oh god, I’m babbling, thought Ianto.
‘Yes. Fine. Couple of boys decided to kick off tonight, but I soon cleared them out. I’m so glad I played a lot of rugby at school.’
‘Yeah, always comes in handy,’ said Ianto. ‘Um. Girl’s rugby. Obviously.’
‘Obviously, yeah,’ Patrick smirked, and started to undo his apron strings. ‘So, is that it?’
Ianto nodded, eagerly. ‘Honestly, genuinely, just checking up on you. You’re alive, tick, good. Carry on.’
‘And?’ Patrick leaned back against the wall, smirking.
Ianto looked round, and slumped with defeat. ‘Oh all right, but just a quick snog.’
GWEN HAS HAD BETTER NIGHTS
Gwen sat down and scowled at the man opposite her.
‘Hello, I’m Gwen,’ she said flatly.
‘Hello, ugly, I’m Rhys,’ the man said back to her. He was grinning like a smug cat.
‘And what do you do for a living?’
‘Aw, I break hearts, I do, darling. How about you?’
Gwen shrugged. ‘I work for a top-secret organisation that protects Cardiff from alien invasion. I like to think I’m bloody good at it. What about you? Moved any vans around in a timely fashion recently?’
Rhys grinned broadly. ‘Oh, a few. So. Single are you?’
‘Oh yes,’ nodded Gwen. ‘Well, more widowed, really.’
‘Is that so? Tragic.’ Rhys tutted. ‘What killed him? Was it your cooking?’
‘Noooo,’ Gwen assured him, brightly. ‘One day, he spent so much time on the sofa that it ate him.’ She swilled down the dregs of the third complimentary Bellini she’d managed to grab from the bar. She was getting a bit giggly. Probably from all the small talk.
‘You know,’ said Rhys, smiling back at her, ‘you remind me of my last girlfriend. Only she had less split ends, you know.’
‘When this is over…’
‘We’re getting chips?’
Gwen shrugged. ‘Maybe, maybe not. I’m being unpredictable. I’ve heard it adds spice to a relationship. Now – seen any psychos?’
Rhys shook his head. ‘Apart from my wife, no. Everyone’s been very sweet, actually. You?’
