A Night in Southampton

I was sitting in my favourite chair reading a book when I heard a knock on the door.

“Just ignore it,” I said to myself, turning a page. 

Knock-knock.

“You told yourself you weren’t going out tonight. Especially not with him.”

Knock-knock-knock.

He’s not going to go away.

“Fine”, I sighed, marking my page. I put the book down and stood up, stretching. I headed over to the door and pulled it open. Standing there with a massive grin on his face was Dave. “You ready mate?” he said with his usual cheeriness. He was one of those guys who was always happy, loved by everyone and always wanted to go out. 

He also has an annoying habit of getting what he wants.

“I told you I wasn’t going out tonight.”

“You were serious?” he said trying to look innocent, but failing.

“Yes,” I said, closing the door, but he put his foot against it to stop me.

“I promise you this one will be epic.”

“I’m not looking for epic. I’m still wrecked from last night.”

Dave smiled, “Last night was pretty awesome, huh?”

I reluctantly nodded. It was awesome. We went out drinking, as usual, and somehow ended up at the Governor’s mansion partying with all the well-to-do’s at some fancy shindig the Governor was throwing. It was pretty fun rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous. Until Dave got us kicked out because he was making out with the Governor's daughter. 

Usually that wouldn’t be an issue, except she is (or was) engaged to the son of a steel magnate. Not even Dave’s charms could get him out of this one and we high-tailed it out of the mansion with the Governor's security hot on our asses. 

We managed to lose them and Dave and I had a good laugh about it at the pub until God-knows-o’clock.

We stumbled home and I slept the entire day, waking up at dinner time with a hangover. I had planned for a quiet night while simultaneously promising to never again go out with Dave and cursing myself for not learning from every other time I’ve made myself that promise.

“Trust me on this one,” Dave said. “Tonight is going to make last night look like a kids party.”

I raised an eyebrow, “Oh really?” Then I noticed what he was wearing, “Why are you wearing a tux?”

“Get your best suit on,” he said adjusting his black bowtie with a flourish.

I looked at him, “Anywhere you need a suit to get in, you’re not going to be welcome. Steve came by before and said your picture is plastered on every wall and door from here to London.”

Dave grinned and I knew he was up to something, “Don’t worry about that. After tonight, all will be sorted.”

I sighed and looked back at my chair and book, yearning to be left alone. But Dave had piqued my interest, as he knew he would, and I turned back to him. “Fine,” I grumbled and stepped back to let him in.

Dave waltzed in while I went into the bedroom and put on my only, and by default, best tuxedo.

“This is going to be brilliant, mate,” Dave called out as I got dressed.

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered. 

--------------

We headed to the Foghorn, a local pub where everyone knew everyone and we sat with the locals drinking cheap beer. They all wanted to know why Dave’s face was plastered all over town. As usual, Dave willingly regaled them in last night's adventure at the Governor’s mansion.

“And then I had to sneak out of her room with nothing on but me undies and a smile,” he said to raucous laughter from a group hanging on to his every word.

One of them handed him a pint and he held it up “To Mary, the loveliest girl a man could ever want.”

Hours later, we were talking at the bar and I saw Dave stiffen a little. I turned around and saw a portly man and a tall, skinny man enter the pub. They looked familiar but I couldn’t place them, especially after a few pints in.

A few more hours later we stumbled out of the Foghorn into the foggy streets of Southampton. The gonging of the clock tower in the distance told us it was 3am. Dave and I walked arm-in-arm down a single, dimly lit street singing When the Saints go Marching In as loud as we could.

After the third slurring rendition I turned to Dave and said, “Daaaaave, you knowwww I lovesh youuuu, right?”

He stepped back, holding me at arms reach, “Annnnnnd I loooooove youuuuuu” he sang at the top of his voice, the words echoing off the stone walls of nearby buildings.

“Dave,” I said, “Dave, Davedavedave, youuuu said tonight wooould beee epic-,” I stopped to burp. “And youuuu know I loooovesh you, Davve-”

“I lovesh youuu tooo,” Dave interrupted, stumbling over his own feet and I grabbed him before he fell. “Oh man, I almostsh dirtied my tuxsh,” he giggled and looked at me. “You shaved me, man,” then he hugged me.

I hugged him back, the beer was in control now and I was along for the ride.

“Dave...Davedave,” I started again, “Yooooou said tonight would beee epic,” I slurred. “But, I musht admit, and remember I lovsh you, itsh been gooood but notsh epic.”

“Nightsh nooot over,” he said with a drunken grin. “Juss keephs your tuxsh clean.”

We stumbled on passing by dozens of posters of Dave, sketches that looked nothing like him, and we had a laugh. Below the picture of ‘Dave’ was a request for assistance:

Police are requesting assistance for an incident that happened on the night of April 13 at the Governor's mansion. If you saw the above person near the vicinity of the mansion please contact Constable Williams.

“I betterrr give him a call,” I said to Dave and laughed.

We continued on and finally emerged on to foggy Main street, nearby was another pub and I indicated to it with a nudge of my head but Dave shook his head, “Nah, gots anooother placesh.”

I followed him and we walked for what felt like hours, the cool night air was starting to sober us up. As we walked I heard a foghorn blaring and realised we were near the docks.

“Where are we going?” I asked. I was confused, my brain still foggy with drink and I had lost my bearings. We passed numerous pubs, some still open, and we avoided stumbling into other drunks making their way home, or to the brothels with their red lights acting like a beacon, or a warning, for them.

I figured Dave was heading towards one of the pubs down by the docks. They were usually open all night since the ‘docks never stops’ as they say. As if that was something to entice people to work for them. Hey, come work for us and, for a couple of pounds a week, you’ll work all day, every day!

The idea of going to one of the pubs near the docks certainly wasn’t appealing to me. At the best of times it was rough. But at 4am, who knew what they would be like?

Ahead of us was the main thoroughfare leading to the docks, their tall warehouses looking like shadowy monsters in the fog and yellow light, but Dave turned down another street and stopped before a two-story building with a telltale red light. A sign attached to the building read: The Devil’s Little Helper 

My eyes widened, “A brothel?”

I was confused. Dave wasn’t the brothel type, he never had issues with women, usually they were throwing themselves at him. Even tonight at the pub he had three or four flirting with him, battering their eyelashes and smiling but he ignored them.

Which I now realised was strange. Dave was never one to say no to a lady, especially a pretty one. And they were all gorgeous. Meanwhile I would have to pay a 1 pound whore 5 pounds and even then she would think twice before saying yes.

Something didn’t add up but I couldn’t quite work it out, my head was still grog-fogged and I followed Dave inside. 

It was dimly lit inside and a bitter cloud of smoke hung in the air. Before us was a hallway with doors lining the left and right sides, and to the right was an opening where I saw a large, square dimly lit room. It was lined with carpets, pillows and blankets. Laying about were naked men and women, sucking in smoke from a pipe and I realised we were in an opium den.

I tugged at Dave’s sleeve and whispered, “Do you know what this place is?”

Dave nodded, “We got time. It’s on me.”

Before I could say anything, he moved towards the counter and spoke to the madam. I couldn’t hear what he was saying but when he finished he turned to me with a grin and said, “Happy belated birthday,”

“My birthday isn’t for another 4 months.”

He shrugged, “Happy early birthday then.”

From somewhere in the shadows a middle-aged woman appeared and guided me towards the hallway while Dave gave me a thumbs up.

“What are you going to do?” I asked.

Dave indicated the opium den, “Check out the local flavour.”

My eyes widened, Dave was a party animal and did some crazy stuff but he’d never taken drugs in the 10 years I’ve known him. But before I could say anything I was gently pushed down the hall and before I was pushed through a door into a private room he called out, “Remember to keep the tux clean” 

------------

Knock-knock.

I stirred.

Knock-knock.

“What is it?” I groaned. I opened my eyes and immediately shut them again. It was bright and the light pierced my eyeballs like needles.

What the hell happened last night? When did I get home? How did I get home?

So many questions were swirling through my foggy mind.

Knock-knock-knock!

The knocking was quicker now, louder too, and it felt like someone was pounding my head with a hammer.

I opened my eyes slowly, trying to adjust to the light in the room. My first surprise was that I wasn’t in my bedroom. I was in a room with a single square window looking outside and colourful satin sheets covering the walls. The second surprise was that I was naked. I was laying in a bed with red silk sheets and…

“Who are you?” I choked out.

Sleeping next to me was a woman, maybe in her late 20s. She had messy black hair, bright red lips and she was lightly breathing, sleeping with only the silk sheet draped over her otherwise naked body.

Memories of last night flooded back to me and I realised that I was still in the brothel. I groaned again and silently vowed to myself that I was never going out with Dave again.

“Hey! Open up!”

It was Dave. 

Good. I can kill him now.

I crawled out of bed and stood up. Immediately the ground started spinning and I had to lean against the wall with my eyes shut tightly. I waited a moment, breathing deeply, then opened my eyes again. Thankfully the ground had stopped spinning and I saw a glass of water on the bedside table. I took a sip, relishing the cool liquid as I swallowed.

I looked back at the sleeping lady and had no recollection of what happened last night, though I could guess based on my, and her, naked form.

“Hurry up!” Dave urged.

I stumbled over to the door and grabbed at it. Missed the first time, fumbled it the second time and finally opened it on my third attempt revealing a panicked Dave.

“Dave.. what?” I fumbled out as he hurried inside and closed the door. My brain hadn’t yet caught up with what I was seeing.

“You’re not dressed.”

“We’re in a brothel!”

From behind us came a light, silky voice, “Boys, if you want double the fun, it will be double the price,” it purred.

I turned around to see the woman staring at us with vivid green eyes and the hint of a smile on her lips.

“I..what?” Then my brain finally caught up and I turned to Dave, remembering I was angry with him, “I’m going to thump you!” I growled.

“What? Why?”

I indicated the now awake woman behind me.

“Oh,” he grinned. “Needed to keep you occupied anyway.”

“Why?”

Before Dave could answer, there was a thumping at the door. He turned and bolted it. “No time, get dressed,” he said, leaning against the door.

I found my tux tossed on the floor. Dave sighed, “Told you to keep it clean.”

“It is clean,” I shot back. “Just a little...crumpled.”

“Whatever. Get dressed,” Dave ordered as the thumping continued and I heard someone yelling to open the door.

As I was buttoning up my shirt, Dave asked the lady, “Is there another way out of here?”

The woman shook her head, “Only way in is the one you’re blocking.”

“Shit” Dave swore. 

“What’s going on?” I asked, pulling my jacket on.

“Later,” Dave said. “I have an idea.”

And without another word, he strode over to the bed and picked up the side table, spilling my glass of water, and tossed it through the window.

Glass smashed and the woman cried out in surprise but Dave climbed through the broken window. He motioned for me to follow and I sighed, “Never again.”

I climbed out the window into the morning light just as the door behind us crashed open.

“Let’s go,” Dave said, taking off at a sprint with me close behind. I looked back as we reached the intersection and saw the portly man from the pub climbing out of the window and the head of a second man pointing at us.

Where had I seen them before?

We turned at the intersection and headed down the thoroughfare towards the docks where hundreds of people were gathering. For some reason they were shouting and yelling with excitement and dressed in their Sunday best. Somewhere above it all I heard a clock strike 9.

“Stop! Wait!

I turned back to see the two men giving chase.

“Come on,” Dave shouted and we took off, dodging and weaving our way through the crowd. I had no idea where we were going but Dave moved with purpose and it felt like he wasn’t trying to only lose the two guys behind us. Eventually we came to a gate leading onto the main docks. The gates were crowded with people jumping up and down, like they were waiting at the zoo to see a new animal.

Written along the top of the gate for all the see was:

AUTHORISED PERSONNEL ONLY.

Four burly men in uniform were standing guard and Dave approached one of them. I couldn’t hear what he said but he showed the guard something and he nodded, then opened the gate and waved us through. The gate closed and we hurried forward, passing a group of men in crisp black pants and white shirts.

“Sir,” one of them said with a courteous nod.

Behind us I heard shouting and saw the two men at the gate yelling and pointing at us, but the guards were having none of it and pushed them back. Whatever they were saying, the guards didn’t care.

“What’s going on, Dave?” I asked.

He flashed me another of his charming grins and he handed me a piece of paper. I read it as I passed from sunlight into shadow.

Then I froze.

I looked up at what stood before me and my eyes went wide. This wasn’t a joke.

“How?” I whispered.

“He was at the Governor’s mansion, bragging about how he had tickets. I knew he frequented the Foghorn. From there, we followed him to the brothel, I stole the tickets while he was drugged up and here we are.”

I was stunned. This was unbelievable.

“Told you,” he said, patting me on the back, “Epic night.”

“Epic night indeed,” I agreed.

Four nights later.

“Epic night indeed,” I grumbled.

The life boat rocked on the waves and the night air was filled with the cries of survivors, and those still in the water. We were far enough away that we were safe, at least from being pulled under. Surviving the freezing cold night was another matter.

I turned to Dave who was sitting next to me looking sour, “Let’s summarise shall we? You became a wanted man after kissing Mary. Then you stole tickets from some rich guy so you could sneak aboard a luxury ship to tell Mary you love her and you want to marry her.”

“I thought it would be romantic,” he grumbled.

“Her response was to laugh in your face and have you thrown in the brig where you were to be sent back to Southampton to spend the next 10 years behind bars. But none of that matters because the ship hits a bloody iceberg! Sound about right?”

“I thought it would be romantic,” Dave repeated. “I even stole the tickets from her father-in-law.”

That’s when I realised where I’d seen those men before, they were at the Governor’s mansion party. Mary’s groom-to-be and his portly father.

I shook my head as one of the men on the boat sent up another flare. The sky exploded into white light and I caught a glimpse of the ship. At some point during the evacuation it had split in half and the last of it was slipping beneath the cold Atlantic Ocean water. 

As the light faded I caught a glimpse of the name: Titanic.

I sighed and scowled at Dave, “I’m never going out with you again.”