The pub that evening throbs like a heartbeat to the rhythm of the town, the locals chat and laugh, the men propping up the bar while the women gather in little packs, mostly moaning about the men or other women. Bell circulates the pub chatting here and there to the locals, each seeming to know her whilst Dad works the bar. He seems to have slipped into the rhythm of this town and the locals seem to like him.

I'm on my usual barstool people watching and dipping in and out of people's conversations, I never join in just listen. The hot conversation is still Pervy Barry, some people fake remorse by repeatedly saying "how sad" but the ones who have had a little more to drink are a little more brutally honest in their opinions on him, some even regaling rumours of things he may have done and things they had heard on the grapevine.

I go into the courtyard all this talk of Pervy Barry is too much for me to stomach I know today's hot news is tomorrows fish and chip paper, the moment will pass and for the moment I will have to suck it up. A few seasoned smokers are huddled together in a mass of smoke that swarms from them, then drifts elegantly up in the sky.

I plonk unladylike on to the bench, the moment I do I regret it, it's so cold I feel my body tense with the icy chills on my bottom working its way up my back and through my spine like a frozen snake freezing its way up as it slithers up my body.

I shudder as I hear a snigger, its Bell "You will get haemorrhoids sitting on that cold seat".

I roll my eyes "I thought that something only old people get" she laughs out loud this time. It doesn't matter how sarcastic I am it never seems to bother her if anything she seems more relaxed around me when I am being a bitch, usually I offend people with my quick mouth, but not her. She sits down next to me and I snip at her "aren't you worried about haemorrhoids?"

She leans in and whispers "ohh darling that ship has sailed" I shudder, a little too much information. "Did your father like the harbour?"

Now it's my turn to snigger, but my snigger is more venomous than amused by her, "why not ask your feral boys after all, I'm assuming it's you who told them to follow us. Tell them it might be an idea to invest in some oil, I could hear them on their bikes squeaking as the tailed us all the way home, Not exactly inconspicuous".

She doesn't even try to act offended or amazed my revelation "I'll be sure to pass it on".

The smokers have all shivered their little black lungs back inside and now it's just me and her. "It's a beautiful clear night tonight, do you know the sailors would use the stars to help navigate themselves while out at sea" I shake my head "it gives me great comfort seeing the sky. As long as I see the stars I can find my way home, they are one of the few things made by God I don't mind, he created a lot of old shit but stars I like".

One of the barmaids comes out to the courtyard with a fag and lighter in her hand she nods in our direction then goes to spark up the cigarette. Bell huffs and tuts as if our conversation had been rudely interrupted before the poor barmaid had even taken her second drag on her cigarette, Bell piped up "shouldn't you be on the bar!"she barked.

She timidly replies, "it's the first break I've had all evening, I think they've got it covered for five minutes". I feel Bell stiffen beside me, this was not the answer she was looking for. Like a coiled snake, she was ready to bite now.

"This afternoon I bumped into your boyfriend, he seems like a lovely young man"  the barmaid blushes "he was saying how you're saving for your first home. How lovely. He's taken a second job delivering take aways and you've been doing extra shifts here so you can both save for the deposit. He also said how tired you were on Friday night after your shift, which is strange because you weren't here Friday night".
The barmaid is now slack-jawed you can see her brain rattling for an answer, she blurts out that he must have got the day wrong and tries to laugh it off but Bell is not finished with her. "He must have got it wrong? Friday evening you weren't working here you were in your car parked up by Reculver beach with Sarah from the butchers ....it would seem she isn't much interested in meat". She winks at the dumbstruck barmaid, "what do they call it, scissor sisters?" 
The tears are now glazing over her eyes making them seem misty and milky, this is awful, I watch on with revulsion at this twisted entertainment, as Bell has destroyed this poor woman in ten seconds flat.

"It's not how it looks; did you tell him ?"she pleads pathetically.

Bell gasps as if insulted, "of course not, I'm not one to gossip, your secret is safe with me". She pretends to lock her lips with an invisible key then throw it over her shoulder.

"I couldn't possibly destroy that poor boy by telling him that his beautiful girlfriend likes to spend her spare time with Sarah, the fat ginger sweaty butcher with questionable facial hair. Whose hobby is to eat out his girlfriend like a fat kid at a buffet".
The fear now etched on this girl's face is beyond horrific. I can mentally see her watching her life crumble around her, her future, her everything and with this Bell finishes her off, "I won't say a word but can you do me a favour?" the barmaid nods, now too frightened to utter a word. "When I say you need to be on the bar working., you be on that fucking bar working! Are we clear?" she nods frantically and scuttles back into the bar trying to hide the tears that are now streaming down her face, smudging her excessive mascara and washing away her glamorous barmaid persona.

Bell huffs with exhaustion from having to rip a strip of the pitiful closet case barmaid. "You just can't get the staff".

"You didn't need to do that" I mumbled under my breath ,I look at her hard but she simply rolls her eyes like a stroppy teenager.

"I didn't have to but I did ....but really Jane, shouldn't you be asking how I knew? Not why I did it".

I scoff well that's easily answered. Your feral boys probably informed you, or you heard it from one of the other barmaids gossiping about her".

She tuts, "Try again Jane, do you really think I listen to idle tit tat and gossip?" Huffing as if insulted by my comment "How are my dogs keeping eye on you and everyone else at the same time? their reach is only so far". Her smugness and unwillingness to be honest is irritating me, she wants me to engage in her guessing game for her amusement but I'm not in the mood for biting.

So she's the eyes and ears of Whitstable, gossip has somehow trickled its way down to her so she can use it to belittle others to make herself feel more important, or manipulate others, either way it's of no interest to me. I'll play her at her own silly games.

"I know how you know you've bugged everyone in Whitstable's homes waiting for some juicy info so you can blackmail them".

Bell is at it again with the dramatic eye roll. "Try again Jane" she stands up and walks over to the courtyard doors that enter into the pub. I follow behind her, more to get in from the cold than carrying on this painfully dull guessing game.

The pub has thinned out, most of the locals have gone home with only the last stragglers propping up the bar holding out for the last call as I walk through, I collect some glasses and plop them on the sticky bar, Bell has slipped out the back, grabbed her coat so she's calling it a night to go home, but only god knows where home is for her.

She strolls through the pub like the mighty matriarch of Whitstable. She says goodbye and good night to the stragglers nursing their pints with the barmaids wiping tables down.
Dad offers to walk her home but she declines, she stops by me as I'm collecting more empty glasses and empty crisp packets from the tables. "Do you believe in coincidence? The coincidence that I happened to be on that station at the very time you were? I just happened to have a position that had become open, while your father so desperately needed a job? that I had a home to offer you as your only option was going to be to sleep in the shelter again?" she wraps her scarf around her tiny neck tight like a noose as if breath wasn't even a necessity for her "I don't, good night Jane".

She slips out the door like a spider down a dark hole. Out there in the never-ending darkness, hidden in the shadows waiting to walk her home, I see the feral boys. As they lock eyes on her they slip away from the dark into the street lights to surround her, Bells dogs eagerly waiting to escort their master home.