A footbridge takes him over the motorway, and Jan is almost down by the harbour. He would really like to go down to the quayside to feel the evening breeze coming off the dark sea, but the area is barricaded with gates and a fence which is almost as high as the wall around St Psycho’s.
No, not St Psycho’s. St Patricia’s. Jan must stop using the hospital’s nickname, otherwise he’s going to end up saying it out loud sooner or later.
Beyond the fence there are a few small streets that could be regarded as the town’s harbour area, but there is nothing romantic or adventurous about them. There are just low industrial units surrounded by cracked tarmac.
But there are several cars parked in front of one of the wooden buildings on the side nearest the town, and a welcoming red sign above the entrance says BILL’S BAR.
Jan stops in front of the sign. Visiting bars isn’t something he enjoys. But even the loneliest of creatures is welcome in a bar as long as he behaves himself, so in the end he pulls open the heavy wooden door and walks in.
It is dark and hot inside; there’s the heavy beat of rock music and muted voices. Shadows moving around one another, the sense that everything could just tip over. Bars are a kind of playroom for adults only.
All good children are fast asleep by now.
Jan unbuttons his jacket and looks around. He thinks of a line from a song by Roxy Music about loneliness being a crowded room. He can’t remember when he last walked into a bar alone, because the feeling of being an outsider is always overwhelming in a room full of strangers, chatting and laughing together. Bill’s Bar is just the same. Jan doesn’t believe that everyone in there is the best of friends with everyone else, but that’s how it seems.
He pushes his way over to the bar past heavy bodies that are unwilling to move. A lot of people have gathered in front of a small stage right at the back, where a local rock band is playing.
Jan hands over a note at the bar. ‘A low-alcohol beer, please.’
The classic trick for a lonely person is to chat with the bartender, but he has already whisked away Jan’s money and moved on.
Jan takes a couple of sips and feels slightly less isolated. He has company now — a glass of beer. The drinker’s best friend. But he has hardly ever consumed alcohol, never got drunk — should he try it tonight, just to see what happens?
Nothing. Nothing would happen, apart from the fact that he would stagger home alone and feel terrible tomorrow morning. In a way you have to admire people who just get pissed and don’t give a toss about the consequences; Jan has never been able to do that. He stays in control and is never going to end up unconscious in a swimming pool, like a rock star. Or in a psychiatric unit, like Rami.
The thought of her makes him glance around the bar, wondering about the clientele. He remembers what else Lilian said about Bill’s Bar: There are usually a few people from St Patricia’s there too. Security guards and nurses, he assumes.
Jan takes another sip of his beer. He can smell perfume in the air, and suddenly realizes he is standing between two women in their mid-twenties.
Tall and attractive. Time to act like a grown-up, but he feels like a boy.
The one on the right smells of rose petals. She is wearing a black sweater, she has long brown hair and is drinking something bright yellow. Their eyes meet, but she quickly looks away.
The one on the left has drenched herself in a mandarin-scented perfume; she is wearing a yellow top and a shiny gold jacket. A golden girl. She has green eyes and is drinking perry; Jan glances sideways at her and she actually smiles at him. Why is she doing that?
She doesn’t look away, so he leans over and shouts, ‘This is my first time here!’
‘What?’ she shouts back.
Jan leans a little closer. ‘My first time here!’
‘At Bill’s?’ she asks. ‘Or in town?’
‘Both, really. I moved here a few days ago. I don’t know anybody...’
‘You soon will!’ she yells. ‘You’re going to have a brilliant time here! Loads of surprises!’
‘Really?’
‘Absolutely, I can always tell that kind of thing... Good luck!’
With that she turns and disappears into the crowd, like a deer in the forest.
So that was that. A short conversation, and as usual Jan found it difficult to make small-talk with a stranger, but he feels better now. People in here are friendly.
Carry on making contact, an inner voice encourages him. He gets another beer and moves away from the music.
Most tables are fully occupied. There is no room for him to join a group. He sits down at a free table on his own, drinking his beer and staring into space.
Congratulations, your new life starts here. But of course he has thought the same thing before. You can change your job and move to a new town, but nothing changes. You are trapped in the same body, the same dross in your blood, the same memories going round and round in your head.
‘Hi Jan!’
A woman is standing in front of him; he looks up, but it takes a few seconds before he recognizes her. It’s Lilian, with a bottle of beer in her hand.
At the Dell she has looked tired and worn over the past few days, but now there is a fresh energy about her. She is wearing a black, low-cut top and her heavily made-up eyes are shining, perhaps even glittering — that bottle is definitely not her first this evening.
‘Do you like my weekend tattoo?’ she asks, pointing at her cheek.
Jan takes a closer look and sees that Lilian has drawn something: a long, black snake writhing up towards her eye.
‘Definitely.’
‘It’s not dangerous... It’s not poisonous!’
Lilian laughs, her voice slightly hoarse, and sits down uninvited at his table. ‘So you’ve found the best place in town?’ She takes a swig of her beer. ‘That was quick work.’
‘Well, you told me about it,’ says Jan. ‘Are you here on your own?’
Lilian shakes her head. ‘I was with some friends, but they went home when the Bohemos started playing.’ She nods in the direction of the band. ‘Sensitive ears.’
‘Friends from work?’ says Jan.
‘Friends from work — now who would that be?’ Lilian snorts and has another drink. ‘Marie-Louise, maybe?’
‘Does she never come here?’
‘No chance — Marie-Louise stays at home.’
‘Does she have children?’
‘No, just her husband and the dog. But then she’s everybody’s second mum, isn’t she? She’s like a mum to all the kids, and to us. Fantastic... I don’t think she’s ever had a nasty thought in her entire life.’
Jan doesn’t want to give any thought to what other people might think. ‘So what about Andreas, then?’ he says. ‘Does he go out?’
‘Andreas? Not much. He’s got a house and a garden to look after, and a little wife. They’re like a couple of pensioners.’
‘OK,’ says Jan. ‘But Hanna comes here, doesn’t she?’
‘Sometimes.’ Lilian looks down at the table. ‘Hanna’s the one I get on best with at work; you could say she’s my friend.’
There is a brief silence. The music has stopped; the Bohemos seem to have packed up for the night.
‘So Hanna is a good person?’
‘Of course,’ Lilian says quickly. ‘She’s a nice girl. She’s only twenty-six... young and a bit crazy.’
‘What do you mean, a bit crazy?’
‘In all kinds of ways. She might seem quiet and reserved, but she has a very exciting private life.’