Get off my cloud

“Danny!” a distant voice called out, Danny Richards pulled the blanket over his head, “Danny are you going to stay stinking in that bed all day?” his mum called out, “That’s not a bad idea,” he thought as he curled up into the foetal position. Danny didn’t arrive home until the early hours of Sunday morning and now his mum was expecting him to drag himself out of bed at midday. Not a chance mother dear. His head was spinning and he felt like he was going to die. Jesus Christ! What did I do last night? He vaguely remembered staggering into Charing Cross underground station and collapsing onto a seat on the platform whilst waiting for a train home. 

On Saturdays Danny generally finished work around three o’clock but today of all days a late order came in that had to be completed before he went home. 

“Shit! Why today?” He had arranged to meet his best mate John at six o’clock at Morden Underground station; they were going to meet Ricky Hoskins at Hammersmith Broadway station and then off to the Hammersmith Palais for the evening. 

Danny worked as a butcher in a small family-run shop in town. Bill Fisher, the owner, was a big red-faced man who was also a very likeable person and always treated Danny well. His business relied heavily on catering orders from factories, cottage hospitals, and private schools so Danny knew that his day wasn’t finished until the orders had been completed. It was just before five o’clock before he finished preparing the meat order for one of the local hospitals.   

“That’s ok Danny,” Bill smiled a big friendly smile, “I’ll deliver it on my way home.” Danny felt relieved; it was too long a drive for his liking on a Saturday evening to go making special deliveries.   

“Have a good weekend,” smiled Bill as he loaded the order into the back of the van, 

“See you Monday!” called Danny as he grabbed his coat and ran out of the door, a bus had just pulled up at the bus stop across the road. He nimbly dodged the traffic as he hurried to catch it. Within fifteen minutes he was home. 

“I haven’t got time for dinner mum!” he called out as he ran up the stairs to take a quick shower and change of clothes.   

“Well make sure you get yourself some food inside you before you go drinking too much!” she advised.  Yes mum, no mum, three bags full mum! He mumbled to himself, his Mum always meant well but sometimes he wished she didn't keep on so, 

“Did you hear what I said?” his mum called out to him, 

“Yes, Mum I heard you!” Danny called back. He turned on the shower and closed the bathroom door.  She can moan all she likes now! He laughed, I can’t hear her! 

It took Danny a full half an hour to get himself ready to go out for the evening on account of his two sisters relentlessly teasing him by grabbing his shirt and throwing it at each other. He took a deep breath to calm himself and then went and got another shirt from his bedroom. 

“Sisters!” he cursed his two younger siblings as he run a comb through his hair.  He was now ready to go partying and what a picture?  A brown mohair suit, black leather slip-on shoes, white socks, a white tab collar shirt, and a silk tie. Dressed to kill. He yelled out goodbye to whoever was listening and ran out of the door without closing it; he had yet another bus to catch. He had already telephoned John to tell him he would be late so he didn’t feel he had to rush, only to get out of the house. 

After meeting John at Morden Station the two friends travelled by bus to Wimbledon station where they took the District Line tube to Earls Court and then the Piccadilly Line to Hammersmith Broadway, 

“About time too!” complained Ricky Hoskins as they alighted the train, “I’ve been here ages!”   

“Sorry Rick,” apologised Danny, “I had to work late,” The three friends then left the station and made their way along the Broadway towards the Palais. 

“Looks like it could be good evening lads!” chirped John as he saw the long queue outside the entrance to the Palais. 

As they walked into the main dance hall the opening bars of The Rolling Stones, “Get off of my Cloud,” filled the room, “I live in an apartment on the ninety-ninth floor of my block…” They pushed their way through the crowd to the bar and ordered some drinks. 

It turned out to be the usual evening of drinking, dancing and using their best chat-up lines on every available pretty girl in the place for the lads. Midway through the evening, a strange-looking guy with long lank hair wearing a grubby-looking Kaftan invited them to a party at an apartment in West Kensington. They accepted without hesitation even though they had never met him before. They were always up for a party. 

Around ten o'clock the lads left the Palais with their intended host and his girlfriend to take the tube to West Kensington.  As they walked towards Hammersmith Station Danny pointed out that the sky seemed to be a bit clearer than normal and, considering the light pollution in the middle of West London, some of the stars looked a lot brighter. 

“Are you getting all poetic on us Dan?” laughed John as he looked up at the night sky.   

“Hey you’re right,” he said, “They do look a bit bigger than normal!” He then nudged Danny in the ribs and gasped with mock horror, “Hey they might be UFOs!” All the way to the station they laughed about the possibility of aliens landing in Hyde Park and taking over London.   

A convoy of police cars sped by with their sirens wailing, “I bet they’re off to arrest some little green men,” quipped Ricky. Soon they were boarding the train bound for West Kensington and within fifteen minutes they were walking into a dimly lit apartment on Earls Court Road. Sweet-smelling aromatic smoke hung in the air while people gyrated around to loud music.  

“It’s that song again!” Danny thought to himself.  “…and in flies the guy that’s all dressed up inside a Union Jack!” sang Mick Jagger.  Someone gave them each a drink; they nodded their thanks to whoever it was, the noise was too loud to make any verbal thanks. 

The lads split up and circulated to see if there was anyone else they knew in the apartment.  Danny walked into an adjoining room where some guys were handing around a large-looking cigarette which he recognised as a joint and, by its sweet-smelling aroma, it was obviously loaded with cannabis.  Danny didn’t have any issues with anyone who took drugs, it was their problem, he just didn’t take them himself and, when one of the guys handed him the joint, he just shook his head and left the room.  He preferred alcohol. 

 As he walked back into the room where everyone was still dancing, he felt a wave of nausea waft over him as Mick Jagger warbled on, “……just ‘cos you feel so good, do you have to drive me out of my head…” He sat down on the nearest available chair and held his head in his hands.   

“Danny! Danny!” He could hear a distant voice calling his name. It was the guy who had invited them to the party. Danny looked up; his head hurt.  There appeared to be a faint blue haze in the room.  His eyes! Where are his eyes? he thought.  All Danny could see were two empty sockets where the guy’s eyeballs should have been and now the room was beginning to shimmer. The last thing Danny saw before he passed out was at least a dozen people looking at him, all of them laughing as they started to reach out to him, where were their eyes?  Everything was now dreamlike as he felt cold clammy hands passing over his body.  There was a bright light and then it went dark again before a thousand colours began to vacillate around him.  He felt himself being raised up and then lowered back down again. 

What’s happening to me? Where am I? He began to panic and a feeling of anxiety made him cry out. Everything then went black. 

“Come on lad!” a voice said.  “You can’t stay there, up you get!” Danny opened his eyes to see a policeman standing over him.  Holding on to the wall he struggled to his feet, his head was still hurting and he still felt nauseous but where was he? 

“Looks like you’ve had a good night young man,” said the policeman, “If I were you I’d get myself off home and sleep it off,” he ordered.  Danny quietly thanked him and staggered off towards the underground station.  Outside the station he stopped in horror, this was Charing Cross station.  He was on the Strand! How did he get here? He was approximately four miles from where he should have been, and where were John and Ricky? A passing car radio played, “……I was sick and tired of this and decided to take a drive downtown,” it was the 'Stones again. Danny bought a ticket and made his way onto the platform. Why was the porter grinning at him like that?  He was confused and just wanted to go home. A train eventually clattered into the station and Danny boarded it not knowing what had happened to him that evening or where his two friends were. Every passenger that boarded or alighted the train seemed to look at Danny as they passed him by with curiosity,
"It was so very peaceful, there was nobody, not a soul around..." began to ring in his ears.

“Danny!” called his mum again, “Are you getting up today?” She was now sounding agitated.  Danny slowly and painfully got out of his bed put on a t-shirt and some shorts and staggered to the bathroom. He looked at his reflection, God! I look terrible! He mumbled to himself as he struggled to remember what he had done the previous evening. He finally managed to make his way downstairs to the lounge where his parents had just finished their Sunday lunch.  “About time too” growled his dad, “When I was your age…” 

“Oh, leave him alone,” said his mum, “You were no angel when you were young!” She disappeared into the kitchen to make Danny a mug of tea, “Did you see those lights in the sky last night Danny?” she called out, “It said on the news that they might have been UFO’s,” she laughed, “I’m sure I don’t know where they get their ideas from!”  She returned from the kitchen with a large steaming mug of tea and handed it to Danny.  He took it with a nod of thanks and greedily sipped the hot liquid.  He was suddenly aware of his parents standing in front of him.  At first, they were grinning at him then they started to laugh.  His two sisters had joined their parents and were now standing there and they were also laughing.  The laughter got louder and louder gradually turning into a metallic echo.  Danny dropped his mug of tea on the carpet and backed up into the armchair, four pairs of large black almond-shaped holes glared at him......

“Where are your eyes!?” he screamed, “Who are you!?, get off my cloud!”