An Afternoon at the Theatre

Part the Fourth

The Vanishing Act
Charlie froze, his mind struggling for an explanation. He looked at Kim's pint of beer. Still untouched. Still a perfect head. Condensation running down the outside. Then there was his own glass. Empty. The only real evidence that any time had passed. There was the chair that Kim had occupied only minutes ago. Empty. He turned back to Barry who had been watching him with his usual mild impatience.
'What do you mean I came in alone?' A slight waver in his voice.
'Just what I said. You walked in, ordered two pints and sat down over there. Been talking to yourself ever since.'
Charlie laughed, almost choking, it even sounds false to his own ears.
'That's ridiculous. You must have seen him, ginger hair, my height, leather jacket. His name's Kim.'
Barry shook his head 'No one's been sitting with you mate.'

Charlie looked about him. The old man was still reading his paper. The young couple still engaged in quiet conversation. Now his heart was pounding, almost in a panic he walked over to the couple.
'Sorry to interrupt' he said 'but did either of you see the guy I was with just now, ginger hair, a scar above his eyebrow, we were sitting over there?'
They exchanged a glance that said they didn't really want to get involved.
'Sorry mate, we didn't notice anyone.' The man replied rather awkwardly
'We saw you come in, but...' the woman said trailing off with a concerned look.
He forced a smile and walked away with the impression that she had wanted to say more but was afraid of offending him.

Charlie was now unsure of himself, there was a tightness in his chest. He had a weird feeling, as if reality had shifted leaving him off balance. He reached into his pocket for his phone. It was an effort for his fingers to scroll through recent calls and messages. Nothing. Nothing from Kim. No missed calls. No texts. There appeared to be absolutely no record of their conversation. Nothing made any sense. There had to be a rational explanation. Kim had gone outside for a smoke, gone to the toilet. He glanced at the door and made his way to it. Pushing it open. Nothing. The single cubicle door was open, the sink was damp from recent use. Empty. No sign of Kim. Think. Okay. Okay. Maybe he left. Maybe he got a call. But why would he leave his drink untouched? Why had no one else seen him?

Charlie left the pub, pushing the door open and going out to the street. The cold air made his skin tingle as he noticed the increased number of pedestrians. He looked about him, his eyes searching the crowds for Kim's familiar figure. Nothing. He stood there for a minute or so, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He wondered if he had imagined the whole thing. No! That was impossible. His memory of the conversation was too clear. The stories. The laughter. That old feeling of familiarity. And yet. There was the evidence. The untouched pint. That neither the barman, nor the couple had seen no one but him. Slowly the horrendous thought entered his mind. Had Kim ever really been there at all?

Authors Note
For those who are really interested (shameless self promotion) you can find more here.