Finale of
The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker (c)
By Michael Casey
The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker (c)
By Michael Casey
IN SEARCH OF
AN INDIAN PRINCESS ©
By Michael
Casey
https://www.amazon.com/MichaelCasey/e/B00571G0YC
https://www.amazon.com/MichaelCasey/e/B00571G0YC
Film Pitch
Chapter
Ten.....Worth More Than Money
***************************************
Paul woke up
feeling rough, he would have spat out his tongue
if it was
possible, it tasted so bad. Paul felt under his pillow for his
wallet, most
men scratch their, well they scratch, Smiling Paul feels,
feels for
his wallet. Smiling to himself he rolled over and was going to
go back to
sleep, he stroked his Asterix style moustache and yawned
before
putting his tongue out, that way he couldn't taste the horrible
thing.
Suddenly Smiling Paul sat bolt upright in bed, biting his tongue
in the
process.
"I'm
rich, I'm rich !" he screamed with a mixture of joy and pain, his
tongue was
bleeding a little.
He then
danced around the bedroom, such was his joy . His joy was
undiminished
when he banged his t£ against the leg of the bed , as he
reeled back
in pain and shock he banged his coxic on the filing cabinet he
kept next to
the bed. So it was that Smiling Paul was doing some form of
Red Indian
dance around his bedroom when the window cleaner started on his
windows....
Patrick woke
up too, his wife lay beside him, Patrick smiled,
he was a
rich man, a very rich man. If he was a poet he would have
cried , to
be married just when he was about to give up hope of finding
somebody.
Patrick sighed, he could have ended up with a compromise wife.
Though some
would say that it was because he'd compromised June that he'd
married her,
but he knew different, she was the one he'd always hoped
for. Such
happiness was worth more than money, the poets' had the words
for it, all
Patrick could do was gaze at his sleeping wife, soon she'd
make him a
father, they'd be a family. From emptiness to being married
with a child
in a few short months, life was like a game of roulette ,
only you
have to be careful when your number comes up. Patrick kissed
June hoping
not to wake her.
"At
least brush your teeth first," was June's romantic reply.
Smiling Paul
was in no mood to brush his teeth, he had overslept
enough
already, he had to go to town to collect his winnings. The money
was losing
interest, the sooner he had the winnings in the bank the
sooner he'd
be making money on it. So grabbing his wallet Smiling Paul
raced to
Birmingham to collect his winnings. It was while he finished
double
locking the last of his many locks that the thought struck him ,
what if he
was spotted while in town. He wanted to keep his big win a
secret after
all. So he caught a bus into Birmingham, the 120 stopped at
the back of
The Midland Hotel just by Ladbrokes underground betting
palace.
There was a
tramp outside begging, Smiling Paul gave the tramp
a pound in
exchange for the tramp's baseball cap: it'd be his disguise
so that the
bookies couldn't trace him, they could have his name but that
was all
they'd get. Smiling Paul didn't believe in smiling winners
photos , he
hated winners in fact because normally that meant he was
paying out.
So Smiling Paul sneaked into Ladbrooks in Stephenson Street
just by the
bridge at the back of New Street Station, he had the baseball
cap pulled
down low, the security cameras wouldn't get him either.
Half an hour
later after giving several hand writing samples
Smiling Paul
was giving a cheque for £250,000: not even the promise of
champagne
over the road at The Midland Hotel could persuade him to allow
Ladrokes to
take a publicity photo, the only photo they got was one of his
two raised
fingers on security camera. He couldn't resist it, so he'd
given the
fingers as he left, the cheek of them, asking for a free
publicity
photo.
Smiling Paul
then went over the bridge turned left down Hill
Street ,
crossing the road at the junction with Station Street he then
went under
the Hurst Street underpass and walked past the nightclub,
just before
the Hippodrome he ducked into William Hills the bookmaker.
Spread your
risk business men were told, Smiling Paul had spread his
winnings. In
William Hills he collected his second cheque, this was for
£250,000
too, or about two weeks takings for that particular bookies ,
estimated
Smiling Paul.
As Smiling
Paul left the bookmakers he was startled to see the
same tramp
outside , it was raining so Smiling Paul handed back the
baseball
cap, and another pound note. He was feeling good, he had half
a million
pounds in his pocket after all. Smiling Paul looked over at the
Arcadian,
his Chinese friend had said that the family was going to open a
restaurant
there, Birmingham's own Covent Garden it was called. Perhaps
he'd go and
take a look, but no, he had to put his winnings into the
bank first.
"Hello,
Smiling Paul how are you?" a voice said.
Smiling Paul
spun around, it was Do Quan, he breathed a sigh of relief.
"Oh,
it’s only you, I'm not really used to Birmingham I prefer the Black
Country any
day," said Smiling Paul wiping the sweat from his forehead.
"Why
you in hurry, you no glad to see me?"
"I want
to catch a taxi home, then I have to go to bank, " explained
Smiling Paul
starting to relax.
"I hope
it better than our bank, it go bust, we have nothing , the
family have
no money now. Me I stay happy, being sad only make you die
from the
inside," said Do Quan.
"But
what about your plans, for the biggest and best Chinese restaurant,
right there
in the Arcadian? " Smiling Paul pointed past the tramp now
wearing the baseball
cap, towards the Arcadian.
"My
sister is telling them that we no buy now, the whole family is there
to tell the
Ardacian solicitors right now, " it was Do Quan's turn to
point now.
Smiling Paul
looked at the tramp in the street, the rain dripping off
his cap and
onto his toes which stuck out from his old worn shoes.
"I give
you lift in my car, next week I sell it so family will have some
money again.
You will be my last passenger," Do Quan smiled at Smiling
Paul.
A man thrust
a leaflet in Smiling Paul's face, it read "Are You
A Good
Samaritan", it then invited him to attend a fellowship meeting.
Half a
million in his pocket and all he had been thinking of was getting
the money in
the bank fast so as not to lose interest. In front of him a
tramp who'd
sold him his hat for a pound, for a fiver he'd have sold his
soul. Beside
him a stranger who'd become a friend , a good friend. All
his life
Smiling Paul had taken advantage of fools and soon he had parted
them from
their money. He'd even lost the one chance of love because he'd
loved
gambling more than his girl, he felt dizzy, his head felt heavy.
"NO ,
" screamed Smiling Paul , stamping the floor like
Rumblestilskin.
"You
ok, shall I call a doctor?" asked a concerned Do Quan.
"Take
me to the Arcadian NOW," insisted Smiling Paul.
So they ran
through the rain towards the Ardcadian, bumping into several
members of
the Birmingham Royal Ballet as they ran, they had to get there
before it
was too late.
"Stop,
stop, stop, " screamed Smiling Paul. In his mind he
could hear
the words of the girl he had lost all those years ago , "you
don't love
me, you don't love anybody not even yourself all you love is
money and
gambling".
The
solicitor for the Ardacian looked up from beneath his half moon
Glasses
,"What's going on, this is a private matter, how dare you !"
Smiling Paul
slapped the two cheques down on the table, money talks after
all . And so
it did, when £500,000 sit’s in front of you it certainly
talks loudly
, it screams in fact. Mr Brookes the solicitor for the
Arcadian
smiled.
"Forgive
me for my rudeness, I do apologise," he grovelled.
"Smiling
Paul say he want to help," explained Do Quan.
"Look
25 years ago I could have married a nice girl only I lost her
because I
loved money more than her. I have had some luck, so I'd like
to share it
with you. Please let me help ! " Smiling Paul's eyes were
pleading.
"But we
cannot accept, we could never repay you, if you were family then
maybe it
would be different , but you are not even Chinese," explained
Do Quan
Ping.
Smiling Paul
did not know what to say, he'd held out the hand of
friendship
only for it to be rejected. Do Quan began to argue with his
family. All
Smiling Paul could do was watch their faces, he could not
understand
the Chinese language, and now he could not understand the
people. An
anxious Mr Brookes looked on, all that money and nowhere for
it to go.
After ten minutes fierce argument Catherine, Do Quan's sister
the
accountant spoke.
"When
we moved to Birmingham I did not like it, I used to hide in the
Catholic
Church that is why I have adopted the English name of Catherine.
It was
because I advised you that we put our money in that foreign bank ,
now the bank
is bust. So it is my fault. I now say we take Smiling
Paul's
money, even though he is not Chinese. And I say we make him a
partner too,
I will teach him Chinese so that he will feel more at home
with us, I
will teach him our ways too. "
"Yes,
yes, yes," Smiling Paul was as excited as a child at Christmas.
More
argument arose in Chinese, when it subsided Catherine spoke
again.
"In
olden times, the girl child would sacrifice her honour for the sake
of the
family. So if he wills it, I will marry Smiling Paul."
Smiling Paul
nearly fainted, Catherine was a beauty to say the least.
"Look,
look , look, Do Quan and the rest of you have made me welcome,
he even
carried me in a chair to Old Forge and Singing Anvil Council House
when my
home, my business was under threat. I am only returning the
favour,
friendship and love are worth more than money. I will risk my
£500,000 ,
because it is money, but I will never risk friendship and
love , I
will always be single I will never marry and I will never know
the joys of
children, but in you my friends I have friendship which makes
up for being
all alone. On my knees I beg you, take my money, it is a
mere token
of friendship." Smiling Paul sounded like Percy, for him his
Road to
Damascus had been a rain soaked street in Birmingham's Hurst St..
Catherine
listened to his words, they were clear and loud like the bell
of Saint
Catherine's which rung over the green dome of the church .
Something
stirred within her, if only he were younger and Chinese , he
was a funny
little man looking like Asterix the Gaul, but on that rainy
morning in
Birmingham he had become a noble man, an honourable man , a
man worth
knowing.
"Yes,
we will take your offer, partner," said Do Quan Ping .
Smiling Paul
cried, he was not alone any more, he had family now , a
Chinese
family, but still they were family, his new family. Mr Brookes
took charge of
one of the cheques, the other he returned to Smiling Paul.
"Here,
you are the accountant you better have this one, " said Smiling
Paul handing
the cheque to Catherine.
"Which
bank shall I put it in?" she asked.
"Why
not try a Building Society instead, how about the West Bromwich ,
it’s good
and reliable and it has a Billion in assets," suggested Smiling
Paul.
"Certainly,
it is your money," said Catherine.
"Look
it’s the restaurant's money, NOT mine," insisted Smiling Paul.
"Anything
you say," she replied.
"One
favour I will ask, please teach me Chinese, starting with numbers
then betting
phrases," asked a coy Smiling Paul.
"It
will be an honour," she smiled.
Smiling Paul
smiled back, learning Chinese and having friends was worth
half a
million any day.
Percy was
waiting for Smiling Paul when he got back to the
street,
Percy looked calm but his eyes gave Smiling Paul laser looks.
"Was it
you who bet on the outcome of the election? It’s been on the radio
a mystery
man won £250,000 from Ladbrokes," Percy's eyes were ablaze.
"Yes,"
said a sheepish Smiling Paul.
"That's
all I wanted to know, " Percy sounded disgusted, he started to
walk away.
Catherine
looked at Smiling Paul, he just looked at is feet, he knew
that he
might lose his Chinese friends now.
"Wait, please
wait Sir," said Catherine grabbing Percy by the arm.
Percy waited
to hear what she had to say, Smiling Paul wished he'd never
had made the
damn bet.
"I'm
sorry Percy, it was too good an opportunity to miss, I wish I never
made the
damn bet, " Smiling Paul sounded like a child pleading with his
father not
to beat him.
"Smiling
Paul is an honourable man, a noble man, this morning he meet my
brother Do
Quan, he gave all the money to my family. He saved us from
disgrace, he
saved me especially. We have lost our fortune, we work
hard for
years so that we can open a restaurant of our own, then we lose
everything
when the bank go bust. Smiling Paul is an honourable man, he
save my
family," Catherine began to cry.
"It was
on her advice that the family put their money in that foreign bank
you know the
one with connections to the drugs barons," explained Smiling
Paul as he
handed his handkerchief to Catherine.
"But
Amjit only took his money out of there weeks before it collapsed ,
it’s
terrible he could have been ruined," Percy looked shocked.
"He is
an honourable man, he say friendship is worth more than money, he
insist we
take his money, he has saved my family, " said Catherine
before
dissolving into tears.
"You
know I lost my chance all those years ago because of my love of
gambling, it
was just that when I heard what had happened to my Chinese
friends I
had to give them the money, I just had to, " Smiling Paul's
eyes were
pleading with Percy.
"You
gave £250,000 away," Percy was incredulous.
"He won
two bets, he gave us £500,000. We insist he become a partner or
we no take
his money. He is an honourable man, it was my fault that the
family is
disgraced, now he come like a White Knight to save us , "
Catherine's
eyes were pleading now.
"You
gave £500,000 away to save your friends from ruin," Percy looked at
Smiling Paul
unbelievingly.
"Yes ,
I did it I have no regrets. I'm sorry that I used inside
information
, I'm sorry I've upset you Percy. But I'll never be sorry
that I
helped my Chinese friends in their hour of need, " Smiling Paul
was
beginning to sound his normal self.
"He is
an honourable man, he saved my family, him not a greedy man,"
Catherine
was springing to Smiling Paul's defence beneath Percy's
unbelieving
looks.
Percy
sighed, this was a day to remember, that was for sure.
"And
the mark of the man is not what he says but what he d£s, seeking no
reward, just
the knowledge that he has done the right thing. Out of the
dark came
the light, it banished the shadows and made the burden light,
it made doubts
certainties, it turned the greys and blacks into colours.
The old dog
has turned into a cat, the cat has changed into a noble lion
and the lion
has begun to roar and roar and roar, " said Percy quoting
from a long
forgotten poem.
"D£s
that mean you forgive me? " asked Smiling Paul who could never
understand
poetry.
"Shake
hands for we are friends, and yes Catherine, Smiling Paul is a
noble
man," Percy held out his hand.
"It’s
nice to get one over the bookies for a change," said Smiling Paul.
"He is
a man in a million," gushed Catherine.
"Or
half a million ! " replied Percy before walking back to his
undertakers.
"So you
know the full story now, " said Smiling Paul shrugging his
shoulders.
"The
past is over, let the present begin," smiled Catherine.
Smiling Paul
smiled back, he felt a weight, a worry had been lifted from
his
shoulders , he had a family now, a Chinese family.
Patrick now
had a family too, in the shape of the growing form
of June.
Patrick knew that married life meant changes but he was happy
for them to
happen all around him, it was always calm at the eye of the
storm after
all.
"When
did you last decorate this place? " asked June looking around the
flat with a
critical eye.
"Not
long ago," said Patrick .
"How
long is"not long ago" in years?" asked June tilting her head.
"Not
long really, a few years after my dad died, " replied Patrick
looking up
from a three year old copy of"The Kingdom" which he'd found
under a
cushion.
"Can
you stop reading about Kerry and the Spillane brothers and answer the
question
please," demanded June putting her hands on her hips.
"Not
long, this is interesting, Pat Spillane's leg's playing up he might
not be able
to play next week," mused Patrick.
"Patrick
!" said June raising her voice.
Patrick was
still immersed in the three year old paper, he wasn't paying
too much
attention to June. Patrick would learn the hard way that you
always have
to pay attention to your wife. June got a pair of scissors and
cut a hole
in the paper, then she spoke to Patrick though the hole.
"About
this room, the whole flat in fact, don't you think it’s time to
decorate?"
she fluttered her eyelids at him.
"Yes if
you say so, now give me back that piece I was reading it , "
Patrick held
out his hand.
"You
can have it when you tell me how many years it is , " said June
holding out
the piece of paper she'd cut out.
"Maybe
ten years," said Patrick holding out his hand.
"If you
want this you'll have to get it, " with that June put the piece
of paper in
her pocket.
Patrick got
up from his chair and put his hand in her pocket, only his
hand got
stuck, so June put her hand in his pocket.
"What
have you got to say about that then?" she teased.
"Nothing
but this, " replied Patrick putting his other hand in her other
pocket.
"Think
you're smart do you, you forgot that I have a free hand," said a
triumphant
June as she started to tickle Patrick.
Patrick
wriggled but he couldn't get away as both his hands were in her
pockets, so
they moved back and forth like mating crabs across the living
room till finally
they fell to the floor. June was lying on top of
Patrick
tickling him as he tried to get his hands form her pockets when
Mrs Murphy
came in.
"Glory
be to God, what kind of game is this," wondered Mrs Murphy.
Patrick
scrambled to his feet, as did June. However in all the fun and
what with
June's hand in Patrick's pocket his trousers fell to the
ground. As
for June she was left with a torn pocket revealing the top of
her left
leg. June looked at Patrick, Patrick looked at his mother and
his mother
looked at June. Then the three of them laughed.
"I did
knock only you were busy, well you were busy, " explained Mrs
Murphy
before laughing afresh.
"What
did you want? " asked Patrick holding his trousers and his dignity
in place.
"I
brought you a new Sacred Heart picture, it has plenty of room for all
my future
grandchildren," Mrs Murphy began to laugh, another would have
been
conceived if she had not arrived on the scene , and June wasn't
pregnant
already.
"Oh
that’s great. By the way we are thinking of decorating the place, "
said June by
way of small talk.
"It's
about time too, Patrick has turned this place into a pigsty , "
said Mrs
Murphy casting her eye around the place.
Patrick bit
his lip, but for his mother he'd have redecorated years ago.
Yet every time
he mentioned the subject his mother had accused him of
wanting to
waste money, besides did he want to wipe the memory out of his
father?
"Yes,
mom it is about time it was redecorated," said Patrick pulling a
face.
"Save
your face pulling for your children, don't cheek your old mother
or I'll give
you a slap in the puss, " said Mrs Murphy heaving her
chest
indignantly.
"We
could do it ourselves it'd be fun after all," ventured June.
"No you
shouldn't strain yourself, and as for him I wouldn't trust him to
paint the
old shithouse," said Mrs Murphy matter of factly.
June laughed
aloud, Patrick moaned and readjusted his trousers.
"If you
want the place decorated then send for Winston and Curley, they
are the
best," advised Mrs Murphy.
"I
didn't know they did that, I thought Pirate Radio was their thing ,"
said
Patrick.
"You
don't know everything, well I must be going then," said Mrs Murphy
as she
kissed June goodbye.
Patrick
moved forward to see his mother out, only he let go of his
trousers so
they fell to the ground.
"I'll
see myself out, you two can carry on whatever it was you were
doing before
, " Mrs Murphy left exchanging a twinkle with June her
daughter-in-law.
The next day
Winston and Curley came to take a look at the
flat. They
stood in the middle of the flat and looked all around, then
they moved
to the next room and so on. There were no words just a few
sighs,
Curley tapped the walls in places and shook his head.
"Do you
want a top class job, or a cheap job?" asked Winston.
"How
much is this going to cost?" asked Patrick almost wincing.
"We
want a top class job," interrupted June, using the Royal We.
"Then
you are talking about 700 cans," began Winston.
"What
seven hundred cans of paint !" screamed an alarmed Patrick.
"No,
Red Stripe," replied Winston with a smile.
June and
Patrick looked totally baffled.
"Let me
explain, we always give a quote in cans of Red Stripe. When we
first got
started we only did little jobs so we got paid in cans of Red
Stripe. So
we've kept the tradition and give quotes in cans, even though
we are a
professional team now, " Curley smiled and scratched his bald
head.
"Sounds
ok to me," said June.
"What
size cans of Red Stripe are we talking about , " asked Patrick
wondered
what the Pounds and Pence cost was.
"Never
you mind that, if your mother says they are the best then they are
the best
then they are worth the money, or cans of Red Stripe, " said
June
deciding the matter for Patrick.
So Winston
and Curley got to work on the flat, to the sound of
Radio Three
on the ghetto blaster. Winston said he needed to stay calm
while he
worked but once work was over that was another matter ! Winston
and Curley
had only become painters and decorators by chance. When they
had started
on the Pirate Radio they worked from friends spare rooms at
first . Now
a spare room usually has more junk in it that a dentist's
waiting
room, and about the same style of decor, 80s yuck. So to keep
their sanity
Winston and Curley decorated the room they were operating the
Pirate Radio
station from. As they had to move about a bit to avoid the
Home Office
detector vans they left a trail of decorated spare rooms
behind them
so that soon they were known as "Paint brush" and
"Polyfiller",
in fact they adopted those names as their radio names. On
the odd
occasion that the Home Office seized the equipment Curley and
Winston
became full time decorators to raise money for new kit. So fate
had made the
best Pirate DJ and engineer in Old Forge and Singing Anvil
into the
best decorating team too. And now Patrick and June were reaping
the
benefit’s.
Nothing ever
happens on the street without everybody getting to
hear about
it. Percy was walking past when he heard Mozart floating down
from
Patrick's flat, along with lots of paint fumes. So Percy popped up
to take a
look, he was impressed by what he saw.
"When
you've finished here come along and see me, I think it’s time we
decorated .
That Mozart just hit’s the spot d£sn't it? " added Percy
before he
left.
"He's
cool," was Winston's reply as he finished off a skirting board.
Big Sid
arrived cleaver in one hand, a lady customer on the other.
"This
lady is looking for a painter and decorator, could you two help her
out?"
boomed Big Sid.
"Certainly,
just leave a name and phone number, we'll be in touch later
tonight,"
said Curley.
"Thanks,"
said Big Sid as he left a note next to a can of paint.
Patrick and
June's flat was nearly completed when an urgent
message
reached Winston and Curley, the Pirate Radio station was going to
be raided by
the Home Office. So still clutching a paint brush and a
packet of
Pollyfiller the duo raced off to save their station. Half an
hour later
they returned with a trunk in the back of the van , it
contained
their equipment.
"We'll
have to put it somewhere safe, so safe the Home Office man won't
think of
looking ," began Winston.
"Yes
but he has Xray eyes man," replied Curley.
The pair
edged backforwards in Patrick's yard, the trunk swinging between
them. They
looked like Pirates in search of a place to hide the treasure,
Curley with
his huge earring looked the part. Hairy Amjit appeared, he
sniffed
around the trunk, perhaps there was something in it for him.
"I've
got it, we'll put it in Amjit's shed, it'll take a brave man to
look
there," said a relieved Winston.
So dragging
the trunk and Curley behind him Winston headed for hairy
Amjit's
shed. Winston grabbed Amjit's blanket and threw it over the trunk
to hide it.
Amjit began to growl softly. Curley acted quickly to save
the
situation, reaching into his pocket he found half a tube of Rolo.
"For
you, my man, but guard this with your life," said Curley tossing
the Rolos to
Amjit.
Amjit could
have cried, Rolos were his favourites, or one of them at any
rate. So
letting out a howl Amjit jumped on top of the trunk, he'd guard
it with his
life, besides if they wanted their trunk back it'd cost them
a full tube
of Rolos, he was no fool after all.
"Thanks
Amjit, give me five," said Winston shaking hands with the dog.
"He's a
sweetie really," observed Curley as they climbed the stairs and
went back to
work.
"Yes,
he's a sweetie, sometimes he reminds me of the nodding dog I used
to have in
the back of my car," said Winston.
"No, he
looks like that pair of chalk dogs your mom used to have on the
old high
brown mantle piece," corrected Curley.
When the
Home Office man raided the Pirate Radio station all he
found was a
paintbrush and a packet of Pollyfiller. He knew who he was
after only
he'd missed them again. So turning to Sgt.Mullholland he
shrugged his
shoulders then readjusted his thick black frame glasses, he
wasn't a
happy man, he looked like a sulky Harry Palmer.
"We'll
go for a bit of lunch then, there's a nice cafe near my station or
you could
have a pub lunch at the Trader," ventured Sgt. Mulholland.
"I
suppose we could," replied the Home Office man swinging his briefcase
dejectedly.
Curley
happened to look out the window, and what did he see
only the
Home Office man and Sgt. Mullholland going into the Trader. Like
greased
lightning the duo scampered down the flat stairs, they nearly had
Amjit's shed
door off it’s hinges such was their haste. Only they made a
fatal
mistake, they forgot to knock. Hairy Amjit howled as the Hound of
the
Baskervilles howled. Curley nearly fainted, over the road in the
Trader the
man from the Home Office spilt his beer down his front with
fright.
"Oh
it’s only hairy Amjit," advised Annie.
"Just
being a naughty little dog, he's as good as gold normally," added
Betty as she
wiped the Home Office man's shirt with a towel.
"But ,
but but, it sounded like a wolf ! " said the Home Office man
rippling
with fear.
He took a
sip of his drink to steady his nerves.
"A very
accurate description to be honest, " observed Sgt Mullholland as
he finished
his pint of lime.
The Home
Office man dropped his glass into his lap, he had bad memories
of dogs.
"Here
wipe yourself down, " said Annie throwing the towel into the Home
Office Man's
face.
"We
don't do laps," added Betty with a grin.
Outside
hairy Amjit was running up and down the street like a
happy puppy,
he'd got a Bounty Bar plus a Crunchie out of the Pirates .
Well he
didn't come cheap did he, he offered a good guard dog service ,
so he had to
be paid, besides he didn't like being taken for granted. So
Curley had
dashed over to Amjit's store to get hairy Amjit his chocolate
reward ,
then and only then did hairy Amjit cease his guard duties .
Meanwhile
Curley and Winston had carried the trunk up the road to Percy's
undertakers,
they left the trunk in the preparation room, closing their
eyes while
Andy held the door open for them.They hoped the trail would go
dead there,
as far as the Home Office man was concerned.
The Home
Office man had recovered his composure by now , so
shaking his
leg he stepped out into the street. He just caught sight of
Winston and
Curley going back into Patrick's flat, he smiled his wicked
smile , so
that's where they were, and that's why they were called
Paintbrush
and Pollyfiller. Rubbing his hands together he crossed the
road and
climbed the stairs of Patrick's flat.
"You
are not trying to avoid me lads are you? " said the Home Office man
in his best
patronising voice.
Sgt
.Mullholland rolled his eyes, what a pillock he was landed with, only
he had to
assist the "Home Office Man".
"Do you
want some decorating done Sir?" smiled Winston.
"No,
but I do want your transmitter !" said the Home Office man sounding
like the
Sherriff of Nottingham.
"We are
humble decorators Sir trying to make an honest living , " said
Curley
looking like a cornered Pirate wishing he hadn't put his cutlass
down.
"Do you
mind if I take a look around?" asked the Home Office man.
Sgt.
Mullholland shrugged his shoulders as if to say, "sorry lads but I
have to
assist this wally".
"We
don't mind at all, but it’s Patrick and June's flat, nothing to do
with at
all," explained Winston.
"I'm
sure they won't mind," smiled the Home Office man.
So he looked
around but drew a blank. He was sulking as he left. Winston
and Curley
smiled their goodbyes, another close shave. They stood at the
top of the
stairs and watched him go. The Home Office man looked up at
them, he
couldn't hear but he could lip read," the shed". So he made a
beeline for
it. Winston and Curley watched from their grandstand , how
could he
have heard them, not unless he could lip read !
"Now
lets see what's in this shed," said the Home Office man with glee.
"Woof,
woof, woof, howl, howl, howl," went hairy Amjit.
Nobody came
into his shed without knocking first, it wasn't too bad if it
was a friend
who gave him chocolate but a total stranger , he wasn't
having any
of that. So hairy Amjit flew out of his shed like a rocket ,
knocking the
Home Office man flat. Hairy Amjit sat on the man and howled
and howled
and howled. Winston and Curley laughed till they cried . As
for the Home
Office man he wished he'd kept his desk job, this was too
much.
"I
think you should give him some chocolate , " said Sgt. Mullholland
trying hard
not to laugh.
"I'm a
diabetic I don't eat chocolate," squirmed the Home Office man.
"Then
you're in trouble," said the Sergeant warming to his work.
"Can't
you drag him off?" asked a panic stricken Home Office man.
"I'm
not very good with dogs, I suppose I could ring the R.S.P.C.A. and
ask for
advice , " the Sergeant began to scratch his head as the
Sergeant's
traning manual said he should in situations like these.
By now all
the street had come to a halt, what with hairy Amjit's howls
and Winston
and Curley's laughter , something worth watching was
happening.
Big Sid, Wayne, Betty and Annie, Percy, Frank, Peter and
the rest all
came out of their shops to watch.
"He's
angry isn't he," said Big Sid winking to Wayne.
"Do you
want a cup of tea while you're down there," ventured Mark.
"Well
when he gets up he'll need a new pair of trousers , " observed
Betty with a
smile.
"Perhaps
underpants too," added Annie.
After ten
minutes Big Sid thought it was time to end the Home Office's
discomfort,
so handing a bag of pork scratchings to Jaswinder he whispered
in her ear.
"Go on,
we've had our fun," said Big Sid with a wink.
Jaswinder
walked over towards the still barking hairy Amjit.
"If you
don't shut up I won't give you any of these, " Jaswinder took
the bag from
behind her back so hairy Amjit could see the pork
scratchings.
Hairy Amjit
stopped in mid bark.
"It's
not polite opening doors without knocking first. Say you are sorry
to
Amjit," Jaswinder shook her hand at the Home Office man.
The Home
Office man closed his eyes and said he was sorry . The crowd
applauded,
Winston and Curley laughed even more.
"Catch,"
said Jaswinder throwing a pork scratching high into the air.
Hairy Amjit
leapt high into the air catching the scratching . Everybody
applauded,
everybody except the Home Office man who'd decided to get his
desk job
back.
That night
Curley and Winston were back on the airwaves ,
blindfolded
they broadcast from Percy's preparation room, they didn't
want to see
the inside of an undertakers preparation room till they were
dead and
then it'd be too soon. So with the Home Office in the dark as to
their
whereabouts they broadcast their usual lively show, surrounded by
the
trappings of the dead.
The trouble
with decorating things is that usually there is mess,
well if you
do it yourself there is. Patrick and June hadn't decorated
themself so
there was no mess, but the contrast between a clean flat and
old
furniture made the furniture look shabby, a mess. Patrick decided to
surprise
June by ordering new furniture.
"So you
see Frank now that the place is decorated the furniture
really shows
it’s age," began Patrick.
"Are we
talking Formica or quality replacement?" asked Frank.
"Well
quality of course, now that I'm a married man and I'll be a dad
soon,"
replied Patrick.
Frank smiled
with relief, he hated the Formica end of his shop, he had
to provide
what people could afford, though perhaps of dubious quality
the Formica
end was appealing to some. Still smiling Frank led the way
to the back
of his shop, lovingly touching a piece here and a piece there
as a father
touches his children’s heads.
"We'll
have a drink first, " said Frank opening up a bureau to reveal a
fine
collection of wines.
"I
haven't seen this before," said Patrick.
"My
best customers deserve a drink, it eases the pain when I tell them
the price,
quality costs after all, but it lasts forever, just as a
good wine
lingers on the palate. Your furniture will still be good when
you have grandchildren
!" explained Frank as he passed Patrick a glass.
"Oh,
this is great stuff, where did you get it from?" asked Patrick.
"From
my home village of course, on the banks of the River Po, we call
it the Dom
Camillo, drink it and you will believe that your dreams will
come
true," Frank closed his eyes and savoured his home village wine.
"God
it’s so good I'm sure I'll have to go to confession, " joked Patrick
"Then
so will Fr. Shaw, I gave him a bottle !" laughed Frank.
Patrick
looked all around the quality end of the shop, somehow
he was drawn
to one three piece suite, or was Frank guiding him? So he
sat down on
it, Frank sat down next time him.
"This
seems very strong," said Patrick patting it.
"You
won't need any superglue on this," said Frank with a smile.
"God
don't remind me, I'm the laughing stock of the whole of the street
and probably
India if I'm any judge of Amjit, " said Patrick shaking his
head.
"We
liked the story too, in Italy on the Po Valley," said Frank with a
twinkle in
his eye.
"Alright,
anyway, I'll have this one. Can you deliver it today, I'd
like to
surprise June, " said Patrick changing the subject before he'd
start to
blush again.
"But my
van is elsewhere, will tomorrow not do?" asked Frank.
"I
suppose so," said a slightly crestfallen Patrick.
Just then
Mathew came skipping past the shop, Mathew liked to skip it
made him
feel free, free as a deer.
"Mathew,
Mathew come here, " yelled Frank running to the front of the
shop.
"Listen
Mathew we will carry Patrick's new furniture up the road to his
flat, it
will be a nice surprise for June," explained Frank.
"I've
got to give Big Sid the list from mom though," explained Mathew.
"Alright
lad, you give Big Sid the list then come back," said Frank.
"So I
will get the delivery today after all," said Patrick smiling.
Mathew
returned still skipping , Big Sid ambled after him.
"Well
many hands make light work," said Big Sid.
So Big Sid
and Mathew carried the settee down the street with Frank and
Patrick
carrying a chair apiece. Jaswinder was standing outside her dad's
store
feeding hairy Amjit pork scratchings when she saw the fun she made
her father
take her over the road. Once over the road she sat on the
settee so
she could be carried while Big Sid and Mathew moved the settee,
it was just
like being a queen of Egypt. Her father cleared the pavement
for the
workers, it was almost like a carnival procession. Paulo one of
the lorry
drivers en route for Mark's cafe hooted his horn , he'd have
another tale
for the folks back on the Po valley. When they reached the
stairs to
Patrick's flat Jaswinder reluctantly got off the settee , then
with Big Sid
in the lead he and Mathew carried the settee up the stairs.
Amjit was
joking with Patrick about him being some form of shoplifter ,
literally.
Jaswinder had by now clambered up the stairs behind Mathew,
as he and
Big Sid jiggled the settee to get it through the door.
"Jaswinder
!" screamed Amjit.
Jaswinder
had fallen over the top of the stairs. Frank and Patrick looked
on in
horror. She'd be killed for sure. Mathew threw the settee into the
air, he'd
seen her fall.
"That's
it we're thought now," said Big Sid from inside the flat.
With his
hand free Mathew grabbed for Jaswinder, she seemed to be getting
away from
him, Mathew fell to his knees he was leaning backwards like a
limbo
dancer. Patrick closed his eyes, he felt sick.
"Jaswinder
!" screamed Amjit.
Frank made
the sign of the cross, then closed his eyes.
"Daddy
!" screamed Jaswinder her voice seemed distant.
Mathew
bounced back to his feet, his one hand pushing the settee forward,
in his other
held tight was Jaswinder. She was safe, Mathew had pulled
the rabbit
from the hat. Mathew and Jaswinder disappeared into the flat
such was
Mathew's forward momentum, they sent Big Sid flying . Amjit
raced up the
stairs followed by Patrick and Frank.
"My
baby, my baby," Amjit scooped up his daughter in his arms.
"What's
going on," asked Big Sid getting to his feet.
"Jaswinder
fell over the edge of the stairs under the rail , but for
Mathew she'd
be killed," explained Patrick, his heart still pounding in
his ears.
Big Sid
looked on incredulous, he just thought Mathew was jiggling the
settee , he
was stunned, so he sat down on the settee . His Indian
Princess
could have been killed.
"It was
a miracle, Mathew bounced back to catch her, then forward so
she'd be
safe, I saw it all," explain Frank.
"Thank
God she was wearing that Arran jumper your mother knitted otherwise
we'd all be
crying now," said Amjit as he kissed his daughter's head.
"And I
said it was silly for an Indian to be wearing an Arran jumper , "
Patrick
licked his lips, they felt very dry all of a sudden.
"I'll
take Mathew for a milkshake, can you manage on your own now , "
asked Amjit.
"I'll
come too," said Big Sid, he'd have one himself.
Frank and Patrick
were left to bring the armchairs in , it felt like
tidying up
after a wake, but thankfully Jaswinder was alive thanks to
Mathew.
"So but
for Jaswinder wearing an Arran your mother had knitted
she'd have
been killed," repeated a wide eyed June.
"God
knows how Mathew managed to do it, it was like something Bruce Lee
would do, a
back reach then a forward leap, Sid was sent flying under
the weight
of the settee and Mathew's forward momentum.
June
instinctively felt the growing bulge inside her, she looked up at
Patrick, a
question on her lips.
"What
if it happens to our baby?" she looked accusingly at Patrick.
"It
won't, I was safe wasn't I?" said a defensive Patrick.
"Accidents
do happen, and this flat is only big enough for one baby ,
what about
the rest, when they come, " June had locked her eyes on
Patrick's he
could not get away from her.
"I
thought you liked this flat, this street," Patrick glared at her.
"I do,
but I think we should have a house now, a house with a garden and
a cherry
blossom tree at the bottom of the garden," said June all in one
breath.
"Yes,
but if we have a house we'd have to move away from here, I don't
want to move
to bloody Harbourne what with your mother nearby, she'd drag
us into her
lair with her spider's webs," retorted Patrick.
They stood
silent, this could develop into their first real fight, only
June had
other ideas for she'd glanced out of the window. Jumping forward
she kissed
Patrick and put both her hands in his trouser pockets , he
couldn't
escape her now. She smothered him in kisses and edged him
towards
their new settee, it was time to see if Frank was right, no glue
would be
needed, after all she'd picked out the furniture the day before
Patrick had,
she was no fool after all.
"Patrick
it’s a big yard outside isn't it? " said June as she
played with
the hairs on Patrick's chest which stuck out from his shirt.
"Yes,"
replied Patrick mentally thanking Frank, he really wouldn't need
glue on this
settee, ever.
"It’s
must be big enough for a few houses, it’s worth a lot of money isn't
it?"
said June before kissing Patrick again.
"Yes
but we're comfortable, so it’s pointless selling it," said Patrick
in between
kisses.
"I
wasn't thinking of selling it, I was thinking of something else,
something
much more, well something constructive," June sat up and got
off the
settee , she paused to look at Patrick then she went to the
window.
"There's
a lot of land there," June spoke slowly.
"You
sound like a Kerry woman already, " laughed Patrick getting off the
settee and
going to the window.
"Well
we, could do something constructive, " June's eyes locked onto
Patrick's.
Patrick had
to give in now, he couldn't argue with her, it'd be like
arguing with
himself.
"Go on,
what is it?" Patrick was smiling.
"We
could build a house right there," June pointed.
"So you
have turned into a Kerry woman, mom will be pleased, " Patrick
laughed
aloud.
"D£s
that mean you'll build me a house, a home? " June was issueing a
challenge.
"Of
course, you didn't have to bribe me with kisses," Patrick smiled.
"If I
didn't kiss you first, I'd never get any kisses, " said June
putting out
her tongue.
"Come
here you and I'll show you what kind of Kerry man I am , " said
Patrick as
he grabbed June and put his hands in her jeans pockets.
This kind of
silly childlike behaviour was the kind they enjoyed the most
and they
were glad that Frank's settee would never need superglue.
The next day
they consulted with David, he was able to recommend
an
architect, so they went to see him over in Langley. June decided that
she wanted
four double bedrooms and two bathrooms with an extra shower
room thrown
in for good measure. She was thinking to the future after all
or she was
no Kerry woman in the making. When the architect smiled and
asked when
they wanted the plans she replied "Yesterday" , patting her
stomach . So
the architech set to work, a week later the plans were
ready.
"So you
see Percy the council planning department laughed in our
face , they
say this is a business zone, no housing , " explained
Patrick
biting his lip.
"It’s
the Albert Pratt O. Bloody B. diehards. Give me those plans I'll
stick a bomb
under them," fumed Percy.
Patrick went
and fetched the plans and handed them to Percy.
"I hope
you can do something it’s just that David is free at the moment so
he could
start building straight away. It could be built in six weeks ,
all we need
is the go ahead, " Patrick looked like a kid who's kite was
stuck up a
tree, he hadn't a clue what to do, adult help was needed.
"You'll
have planning permission in ten days or I'm no undertaker," said
Percy
shaking Patrick by the hand.
In his study
Percy got out his diary, he looked up the phone
number for
Mr Stone, Mr Stone M.P. for Old Forge and Singing Anvil.
"Hello,
can you put me through to Mr Stone please, " said Percy as he
sat down.
"I'm
afraid he's very busy, what with being new to Parliament and so
forth,"
said a very business-like secretary.
"Just
tell him it’s Percy Frost, the undertaker, he'll speak to me, "
said Percy
quietly.
The
secretary jumped to attention, she ran down the corridors of
Westminster,
Percy Frost was a famous name in the corridors of power.
In fact the
day Mr Stone arrived the first thing he said was that Percy
had
immediate access, so it was no wonder that the secretary ran, that
and Percy's
voice, he sometimes sounded like a Vampire willing people to
do things.
"What
can I do for you?" asked Mr Stone.
"Patrick's
been refused planning permission for a house next to his
bakery, I
think it’s the old Albert Pratt diehards," explained Percy.
"Send me
the plans and so forth, I'll do my best," answered Mr Stone.
"How's
Parliament then?" enquired Percy.
"I'd
sooner trust a navy laying hard core than some of them, but I'm sure
I'll get
used to it. Though if this is a building matter perhaps it’s the
Freemasons
you should be asking to help," joked Mr Stone.
"I
thought all Politicians were Freemasons," mumbled Percy.
"Not
this one, anyway send the plans and I'll do my best, " said Mr
Stone before
he hung up the receiver.
Percy smiled
perhaps a little encouragement would speed Mr Stone's work ,
after all he
was a Freemason and so was Mr Kemp, so if Frost and Kemp
combined
then an invite to a Freemason function could be arranged for Mr
Stone.
The next day
a large envelope arrived for Mr Stone, inside was
a letter
marked "for your eyes only". The large envelope contained the
plans for
Patrick's house, the letter was an invitation to a Freemason
function in
Harbourne, a personal invitation from Percy and Mr Kemp. When
Mr Stone
read the invitation he jumped into the air, Percy was a real man
of mystery:
so he just had to do his best for one of his constituents.
"Where's
that idle American researcher of ours, if he’d doesn't solve this
problem
today I'll personally kick him out of Westminster and onto his
plane for
Boston," growled Mr Stone.
The
researcher materialised, he was told to examine all the bye laws for
Old Forge
and Singing Anvil, find a loophole, or the only loop he'd be
seeing was
the noose Mr Stone would hang him with. Duane was suitably
impressed so
he set to work. Late that night he found the loophole, the
workers had
to be provided with a place to live, and as Patrick was one
of the
workers albeit in his own bakery, but since he was a worker a
place to
live had to be found. It was a byelaw dating back to 1874, it
had not been
repealed. Armed with all the information Mr Stone went into
the Chamber,
he wanted to say a few words on the subject.
"And so
my fellow members and honourable members it really is a case of a
council
trying to intimidate the humble worker , a case of wanton
obstruction
on the part of the council, and to what end? Just to flex
muscle
against the humble worker, just for the sake of it. Are we not
here for
Government Of The People by The People and FOR The People , NOT
AGAINST
THEM, " blustered Mr Stone, having picked up the technic from a
certain Tory
member.
He went on
for a further five minutes, then bowing to the Speaker he
left the
Chamber, he wanted to ring Percy with the good news.
A few days
later work began on Patrick and June's new house,
hairy Amjit
had cocked a leg over the chalk marks, which were to guide
the JCB
digging the foundations.
"X
marks the spot, " laughed Mrs Murphy full of smiles. She remembered
her home at
Kerry Head, what fun they'd had in 1934 when the new one was
built , the
old one being handed over to the cattle. Yes today was a
happy day,
nearly sixty years on a new family home was in the making ,
but this one
in Old Forge and Singing Anvil.
It was also
a happy night, Percy and Mr Kemp took Mr Stone
with them to
a Masonic Meeting. Not much can be said about the Masons ,
except that
they really do know how to enjoy themselves . Mr Stone
insisted on
selling at cost all the building materials for Patrick's new
house to Mr
Kemp. Mr Kemp was pleased to accept, he knew Patrick would
not accept
such a gift himself, but Mr Kemp was a business man, so he
did. Percy
smiled wasn't being an M.P. all about building community and
so forth,
even if this was somewhat literal example. Together with arms
over each
other’s shoulders they staggered down Harbourne High Street ,
Michael was
passing so he stopped to give them a lift before an over
anxious
bobby might arrest them, they were very drunk after all.
"I'd
get thousands for a photo of this," mused Michael.
"It's
o.k. he voted for you too," reassured Percy.
"We'll
I'll take you home first Mr Kemp seeing as you live the nearest ,
but God
knows what your wife will say, " Michael pulled off shaking his
head
ominously.
David was
finishing off cutting the foundations when the first
lorry
arrived with bricks and timber.
"I
didn't order this from you, " shouted David above the noise of the
JCB.
"Well
it’s all paid for compliments of Mr Kemp, " explained the lorry
driver.
At that
moment Percy showing no sign whatsoever of wear and tear appeared
to explain,
" I was out last night with Mr Kemp and Mr Stone our M.P. ,
it was
decided to help things along a little," Percy waved his hand just
as another
lorry appeared.
"You
mean everything is coming, the whole lot?" asked David.
"In a
word, yes, " with that Percy bowed and started to walk away ,
undertaking
was his business, not building.
"But do
they know? " David motioned in the direction of the flat above
the bakery.
"Well
it’s a family matter, " said Percy touching his nose, with that he
was gone.
Not far away
in Smethwick, in a damp flat lived another couple,
they had a
connection with the Street but they were far from happy . The
man switched
the radio off, he wanted to scream, so the local M.P. was
able to
resolve the situation, so bloody what. He'd been onto a good
thing with
Danny, he'd always been an easy touch, now he was lumbered
with a fat
girl getting fatter. A pregnant girlfriend and a damp flat ,
what a
comedown from the days of wine and roses, now all he had were the
whines from
the girl. If only Danny hadn't been sent to Israel, he'd be
in clover
now. Now all he had was a whining fat girl, and Danny had the
cheek to
send him a postcard, and boast about this girl he'd met , a
soldier in
the Israeli army. God it made him sick, he'd like to punch
Danny on the
nose.
Mathew,
Mark, Luke and John stopped by the Trader for a drink
things were
looking bleak for sure. They'd have time on their hands soon.
"Why
not help David build Patrick's new house," ventured Annie.
"Look
what happened when you helped put this place to rights , " added
Betty.
"The
pair of you sound like Mrs Murphy," laughed Mathew.
"No,
this is Mrs Murphy," began Annie switching to a Kerry accent.
"Ok we
give in, just give us another pint first," said John.
So Betty gave
them one pint with four straws in it, girls will be girls
after all .
Not to be outdone the boys took a straw each then drank ,
these men
could still be boys after all, then they blew the froth from
the pint at
the girls.
"Good
job you're Uncles or we'd tell or dad on you, and hairy Amjit, so
there,
" said the twins putting their tongues out, before starting to
laugh.
So it was
that Mathew, Mark, Luke and John joined the
plastering
kid, David, in building a house. After four weeks they were
ready to put
the roof on, five men working fourteen hours a day makes
light work
of house building. Patrick and Mathew helped out too, just so
as not to
feel left out of it, besides Patrick wanted to tell his
children
that he had built it.
With the
roof on Winston and Curley moved in to decorate the
place , June
personally deciding the "look" of the house , she'd also
negotiated
the "Red Stripe" price. So to the strains of Mozart, Curley
and Winston
the house was decorated: Percy would take a break from
embalming a body
to have a chat with Winston about the various merits of
Mozart ,
then after half hour he'd stroll up the road back to his
undertakers
a smile on his lips. It was nice to get some serious
conversation
after all, the dead not being too talkative at the best of
times.
It didn't
take long for Curley and Winston to finish the house
as it is
always easier to decorate a newly built house, so now it was
time to
carpet the place. June consulted with Frank, it would be easier
to do the
whole house with the same design. Patrick had remarked that
bedroom
carpet was impossible to vacuum as it was too "fluffy", so why
couldn't
they have living room carpet in the bedrooms, then at least it'd
be easy to
clean. Frank rung his contact in Kidderminster
"Oh
you've saved my life, we've got a surplus of carpet. You see they
changed the
design of the hotel at the last minute, they added a ballroom
instead of
so many extra bedrooms, " explained the flustered man from
Kidderminster.
"So you
want me to take it off your hands," said Frank.
"Well
if you could," said the Kidderminster carpet man.
So June went
to Kidderminster with Frank to see if she liked the
design, she
smiled when she saw it. The carpet design was based on the
Book of
Kells, it was for the Irish Suites of an international hotel's
Birmingham
hotel. If it was good enough for a Five Star Hotel it would be
good enough
for a Black Country home. The purchase agreed June phoned
Patrick to
get him to tell everybody they were having a carpet laying
evening.
"A
what?" asked Patrick.
"A
carpet laying evening, get everybody to come then we'll all go to the
Trader
afterwards, when the carpet is laid," explained June.
"Ok
I'll tell everybody," said Patrick putting down the phone.
An hour
later the lorry arrived with the carpet, Frank had it in
two
sections, one for the upstairs and one for the downstairs. Leaping
from the
lorry Frank ran up the road his eyes like flames, he hadn't done
a whole
house in years, it was going to be fun. Frank collected his
tools then
ran back to Patrick's and June's new house. Big Sid, Wayne,
Roger,
Mathew, Winston and Curley, Mathew, Mark, Luke and John not to
mention
David and the rest were all ready. Standing on the back of the
lorry Frank
explained the plan.
"Now a
carpet is a thing of beauty, it makes us float after a hard day of
walking the
hard pavements," began Frank.
"You
can say that again," interrupted Roger.
"Now a
beautiful carpet can be ruining by bad fitting. It also looks
better if it
is seamless, so this will be seamless. In years to come when
Patrick's
grandchildren are born they too will say what a nice carpet this
is and
wonder how did we manage to lay it so well ! " Frank was sweating
he was so
excited.
"The
sooner we are finished the sooner we drink !" shouted Wayne.
With those words
they began. Frank handed out carpet gripper and
ordered
people to place it at the edge of every room and corridor . He
raced around
like an excited schoolboy making sure it was in the exact
position.
This took forty five minutes, then a team was sent upstairs to
do the same
while the underlay was fitted downstairs. Putting underlay
down is an
easy job you just spread it, then you run around like an idiot
with a
staple gun sticking it to the floor. As Rodney was the nearest
thing
available it was him who was given a staple gun, as far as Rodney
was
concerned he was a Fairy spreading goodwill and harmony, just like in
his latest
play. In place of a wand was a stable gun, but Rodney did do
a good job,
a very good job.
Next came
the carpet laying downstairs, Rodney King of the
Fairies was
sent upstairs with his staple gun wand to fix the underlay
there .
Meanwhile all the muscle available was needed to unload the
carpet.
"Jesus,
Mary and Joseph it’s like the Book of Kells," said Luke.
"So
bright and colourful, so detailed, it must have cost the earth too
what with
all the fancy stuff on it," added John.
"Will
you stop the admiring for a second and get a move on, it weighs a
ton ,"
said a practical Mark.
Ten men
carried it in, though it looked as if they were fighting a
giant eel .
Following Frank's command to the letter they put one edge
down , this
one edge was critical if it was out an inch then the whole
look of the
carpet could be ruined.
"Let us
begin then," said Frank.
Frank
brought out two lethal looking knives one he held in his mouth, he
looked like
a Pirate ready to board a vessel, the other he held at the
ready . Let
the cutting begin. To the sound of cutting carpet the men
pulled and
tugged so that the carpet was in position. As the carpet was
trimmed it
was dropped onto the gripper, the gripper was like so many
sharks
teeth. It was waiting for it’s dinner, so the Pirate cut with his
knives
throwing his victim to the sharks below . Patrick had been
delegated to
press the carpet down onto the gripper, he was the Peter Pan
sending the
reluctant carpet to the crocodiles . Once one room was
finished
people were delegated to sit in the corners to act as counter
weighs just
in case the carpet decided to unwind, not that there was any
chance of
it. Soon the down stairs was complete.
"God
this is stunning and it’s so comfortable, " said Patrick lying down
on the
carpet in the hall.
"No
doubt we'll find out how comfortable, when we're alone, " whispered
June.
"See we
are half finished," said Frank his eyes still ablaze.
The upstairs
was next, this was more difficult as the stairs
had to be
done too. Everybody pulled then following Frank's commands to
the letter
they found the leading edge, then acting as human paper
weights they
sat on the carpet while Frank's flashing knives trimmed
around them.
Step by step and room by room the upstairs was being down.
Now for the
final challenge, the stairs themselves. To a hail of cut
carpet
falling like rain Frank came down the stairs, tuck and trim, tuck
and trim .
People positioned on each step in his wake , human paper
weights. A
twist of the carpet here a twist of the carpet there, it was
almost as if
Frank was tying a tie on a stubborn boy, but Frank would
prevail,
he'd nail the boy. Or grip the carpet, he had it cornered and
now finally
as he did the last step and met the ground , he had it
floored.
Frank stopped, he dropped his knives, the carpet had submited
to his will,
it had been laid. People were sitting like Tody Jugs all
about, there
was a trail of human paper weighs everywhere, there were
ten people
standing on the steps of the stairs. Everybody looked around
in awe, it
was seamless, even at the bottom of the stairs where the top
met the
bottom. June kissed Patrick, everybody applauded , so June
kissed Frank
too.
The front
door opened Mrs Murphy came in , she looked at
everybody on
the stairs and sitting around as paper weights.
"You'll
shame me Patrick making everybody sit on the stairs and on the
floor ,
you'll have to buy some chairs," she began.
"We
will but first we'll buy them all a drink," replied Patrick .
Everybody
filed out and headed for The Trader, Frank was last picking up
his knives
before leaving, it ws only then that Mrs Murphy noticed the
carpet.
"Jesus,
Mary and Joseph did you steal this from the Three Lakes Hotel in
Killarney?"
she whispered.
"No,
Sheila, it’s ours, Frank and all the rest of them have only just
finished
laying it. It was going to be used in a Five Star Hotel but we
ended up
having it instead," explained June.
Mrs Murphy
walked all about, inspecting the work, then she went upstairs
to see that
too.
"But
it’s seamless and it must be two inches thick, it’s a pity to walk on
it seeing
it’s so nice," enthused Mrs Murphy.
"We'll
have to float then," laughed Patrick.
"Don't
cheek your mother or I'll give you a slap in the puss, " said an
indignant
Mrs Murphy.
"Come
on Sheila we have to buy everybody a drink," said June holding the
door open.
"Alright
then , so long as Patrick's buying but make sure you have a
Guinness,
it’s good for your baby," said Mrs Murphy as she followed June
out.
The next day
Frank delivered all the furniture from the quality
end of his
shop. The house was a showpiece, if you buy things you may as
well buy the
best, they last longer anyway. Mrs Kemp had decided that
such a nice
house needed something to make it even better , a burglar
alarm. So
the man from the burglar alarm place came along, only hairy
Amjit
wouldn't let him out of his car. It was almost as if Amjit had
smelt a
rival in the form of an electronic alarm. So Amjit jumped on the
bonnet like
the lions do at a Longleat Safari Park, in fact Amjit was
just trying
his luck, he might get some Cadbury's chocolate , it was
handy it
being down the road in Bourneville. However the man from the
burglar
alarm company didn't know about Amjit's chocolate track mind .So
he quivering
with fear and stayed in his van.
"Give
him some chocolate then you'll be ok, " advised Jaswinder who was
watching all
the fun.
So the man
from the burglar alarm pushed some chocolate out the window .
Only it
wasn't one of Amjit's favourites, worst still it wasn't Cadbury's
so as far as
Amjit was concerned it wasn't chocolate. Amjit spat out the
foreign
chocolate, he was disgusted, not only was the man trying to
bribe him a
nice honest guard dog but he was also trying to poison him
with
something which wasn't chocolate , couldn't the man read or
something,
if it didn't say Cadbury's then it wasn't chocolate, was he
was stupid
or something, he was only a dog but even he knew that. Amjit
began to
growl, he wasn't very happy.
"That
wasn't proper chocolate mister," advised Jaswinder.
"But it
was the best Italian chocolate," stammered the man.
"Is
Italian Cadbury's?" asked Jaswinder.
"Look
here get me some from that shop, " said the alarm man passing
Jaswinder a
pound note.
Jaswinder
returned with the chocolate, "Daddy say's thanky ou for your
custom,
please come again," she said with a smile.
Satisfied
with his chocolate, his real chocolate, his Cadbury's Amjit
let the
alarm man get out of his van.
The alarm
man spent the whole day fixing up an alarm , Patrick
and June
thought it was a waste of time, hairy Amjit thought it was an
insult to
his nose. When the man finished he pressed the test switch ,
only nothing
happened as he'd forgotten to make the final connection .
Amjit showed
what he thought of the alarm by peeing up the wheels of the
alarm man's
van. A few minutes later the alarm test sounded, hairy Amjit
barked in
unison, was this man a devil or something, first he tried to
poison him
with pretend chocolate, now he was trying to deafen him .
Didn't the
stupid human know that an Alsatian’s ears were at least a
hundred
times more sensitive than any man's, especially an alarm man's.
Pleased with
himself the alarm man waved goodbye to June and Patrick, he
just had to
wave goodbye to hairy Amjit then he'd be off home. Pity that
hairy Amjit
had other ideas, such as Cadbury's Cream Eggs.
The Gavin
Twins and David didn't get any more work for two
months ,
things were looking bleak, but every dark cloud does have a
silver
lining. A woman was one her way to Percy's to pay off the last
instalment
on her husband's funeral, usually she got a lift but this time
she caught
the bus and walked the last bit, so it was that she walked
past June
and Patrick's house. She mentioned it to Percy.
"I've
never noticed that nice new house before," she paused.
"Well
Mrs Freeman that's Patrick Murphy's home, our M.P. Mr Stone had to
use his
muscle before the Council let us build there, " Percy paused ,
he didn't
have to be a mind reader to see what she was thinking.
"It's
only that my house holds too many memories, especially with it
being up by
the Neurosurgery Hospital, where my husband died , so it
might be
nice to have a new place," she paused again.
"Excuse
me, I just have to get you a receipt," said a diplomatic Percy.
So Percy
telephoned June from another room, it might put a little work
the way of
the Gavin Twins and David after all.
"Here's
your receipt, I was wondering would you like a viewing of that
new house
down the road," Percy paused.
"Are
you sure it’s not too much trouble?" replied Mrs Freeman.
"Not in
the slightest, we're all one big happy family here, " assured
Percy ,
though to Mrs Freeman it sounded slightly odd , like Dracula
saying it.
June had the
kettle boiled and a few sandwiches ready when
Percy
arrived, so Percy made the introductions then left them to it. Mrs
Freeman
didn't realise just how big the Murphy house was, it was far too
big for her,
yet if a smaller version could be built. Then if she sold
her nice
house by Smethick Neurosurgery, she might perhaps have enough.
"Look
give me your phone number, or your address even then I'll get David
and the
Gavin Twins to get in touch," said June handing a notepad to Mrs
Freeman.
Two weeks
later a deal was agreed, David would build the house
with the
Gavin Twins helping out, Curley and Winston would do the
interiors ,
and if Mrs Freeman wanted furnishing then Frank was just up
the road .
Percy was pleased to see the wheels of industry turning ,
perhaps he
should give them another push. So he rang Mr Stone M.P.
"Hello
it’s Percy here, I was just wondering about," Percy began.
The next
week the Liberals announced that in the spirit of meeting the
people Mr
Stone M.P.'s constituency meetings would in future be held at
The Trader,
and three other Public Houses. If people didn't get any
satisfaction
then they could always drown their sorrows. The real reason
was that if
people came to The Trader then they'd see Patrick's new house
and then
perhaps some work would spin off for the builders , Mr Stone
being a
builder himself jumped at Percy's suggestion, besides Patrick's
house was
one of Mr Stone's victories , it was good to remind people of
an M.P.'s
results !
Little
things do make a difference, so from Percy's suggestion
a stream of
work was found where one might not have even been thought of.
Little
things grow too, Smiling Paul was growing in his love of Chinese,
he had
mastered numbers after months of hard slog, so a trickle of
Chinese
punters now appeared at his bookies. Catherine visited him three
times a week
to help him learn the language, it was slow and laborious
but it was
her duty after all, he had saved her family from disgrace .
Between then
they decided that she should make language tapes for him, so
Smiling Paul
started to wear a Walkman and mumble to himself, time after
time after
time again he listened to the sound of her voice, he repeated
the phrases.
It was hard, he had no ear, no flair for language, yet he
felt happy
never the less, he was no longer alone, he had a family, a
Chinese
family. He had a business too, what with the restaurant in the
Arcadian .
Twice a week he was whisked away by Catherine to eat at the
table of
honour in the restaurant: there were whispers in Chinese just
who was this
funny little man with the Black Country accent , he was
important
but why? Catherine and family did not care what the whispers
said, they
knew he was a man of honour, he had saved them.
June's time
was getting near, in fact one Sunday morning the
baby decided
to say"hello", or whatever it is that baby's say, perhaps
it’s"Hello
I'm your son/daughter, feed me". The time had come.
"I've
got a tummy ache," said June sitting bolt upright.
"I'll
get you a Rennie," said Patrick sliding out of bed.
"I don't
think it’s that kind of tummy ache, " said June her eyes wide ,
as if doing
an impression of the Duchess of York.
"You
want an aspro then? " asked Patrick before scratching his bare
behind.
Patrick went
away for an aspro, June just struggled to get out of bed.
"So you
don't want an aspro then?" said Patrick shaking his head.
"I want
a doctor, I think our baby wants to say hello, " said June as
she slumped
in a chair.
"You
mean it’s coming," Patrick's voice broke like a choirboy.
"Yes ,
so get your finger out or it'll be born on this carpet, " said
June
wincing.
Patrick
started to run about like a headless chicken, he felt cornered,
like with
naked Nancy all those years ago on his milk round. Should he
get dressed
or should he go downstairs and ring for a doctor . He just
went around
in circles as if one foot was nailed to the floor.
"Get an
ambulance, you’r as bad as Stan Laurel," said June sickened by
Patrick's
behaviour , why were men so useless, or perhaps men were
useless so
that woman would love them.
"What
there's no ambulance because of cutbacks, so can I drive her in
myself. You
must be joking, " Patrick dropped the receiver, he didn't
wait for the
controller to tell him if he waited a second he'd see if
there was an
ambulance after all.
Patrick scrambled
up the stairs, June was dressed and ready to go by now.
"There's
a delay with the ambulances or something, I'll have to drive you
in," he
explained.
"Then
help me down the stairs then, and bring my suitcase too, " said
a calm June.
Together
they went down the stairs, June thinking what a prat she had for
a husband.
"You
stay there I'll get the car," said Patrick opening the front door.
"I
think you've forgotten something, " said June sitting on the chair
next to the
front door.
"What
the keys are in my hand, " answered Patrick standing framed in the
open front
door.
"You're
as naked as this baby will be, " smiled June, before whincing
with pain.
Patrick
looked down at his naked self then slammed the door shut ,
dropping the
car keys he ran upstairs, tripping as he did so, he really
was like
Stan Laurel now. Two minutes later Patrick fell down the stairs
literally,
with his teeshirt on back to front and his laces undone .
Bruised he
sprung back to his feet and dashed out the front door.
"Shit,
shit, shit, the car won't start, " shouted Patrick from the
car.
June closed
her eyes and blessed herself, it was that or strangle her
husband.
Then June saw something, so putting her fingers in her mouth
she
whistled. Michael's taxi came chugging to the rescue. She had got in
and told
Michael to go to the hospital before Patrick even noticed.
"Wait
for me," yelled Patrick.
Jumping into
the moving taxi, the Murphys were on their way to the calm
of the
hospital delivery room.
Michael
stayed a couple of hours, it'd be nice to find out
what the
baby was, the baby decided to tease them though, it decided not
to be born
for a while. So Michael drove back to The Trader to tell
everybody
the news.
"So
Patrick was panicking, June just put her fingers in her mouth and
whistled me
down, so I drove them to the hospital," explained Michael.
"I
always knew she'd be steady, Patrick needs a calming hand , June's
just what he
needs," said Betty.
"That
and a straightjacket," added Annie.
"So
it’s not born yet, keeping them waiting, so it’s bound to be a girl in
that
case," offered Wayne.
"That's
sexist that is," screamed Annie.
"Girls
don't keep you waiting, it’s just a myth," added Betty.
Wayne headed
for the sanctuary of the back room, he didn't his daughters
playing him
up after all. Though with a baby on the way the girls did
have an idea
. In the evening the pair of them wore nappies and had
enormous
dummies dangling in front of them, they took it in turns to
wail too.
"God, I
thought you grew out of that years ago, " said Wayne as he put
some cotton
wool in his ears.
"It’s
in honour of Patrick," said Betty.
"I'm
sure he'll be pleased," laughed Wayne.
"Do you
think he'll let us babysit, " pondered Annie as she rearranged
her nappy.
"I hope
so, it'll be an education for you, changing nappies and having
sick all
down your back," said Wayne with glee.
"We'd
have to dress up as Swedish Au Pairs then," retorted Betty.
Wayne closed
his eyes at the thought, he silently prayed that Patrick had
a son.
The next day
after a 22 hour labour Michael brought the news ,
June had had
a daughter, Wayne consoled himself with the thought that
at least it
wasn't twin girls ! Betty and Annie on hearing the news found
their
Swedish Au Pair look, and wore it. It was at times like these that
Maureen
wished she had a shotgun, as for Wayne he was shocked and angry
for a
moment, but then he laughed, what else could a father of such
girls do. A
happy Big Sid wrote the birth weight up in his shop window,
12 pounds 6
ounces, little wonder that it was a 22 hour labour . The
whole street
was happy, George and Brownie went about like worker bees
spreading
the good news. It was a happy day for the street.
Hairy Amjit
had stood guard over his masters house, the door had
been left
wide open such was Patrick's haste, in a way hairy Amjit had
been glad of
the opportunity to prove he was better than any electronic
alarm. Just
why didn't any burglar come along, that would have made his
day , but no
burglar was that stupid. So hairy Amjit had to content
himself with
being fed pork scratchings by Jaswinder.
"So
Patrick has a little daughter, I hope she'll hurry up and get big so
that I can
play with her," Jaswinder confided with hairy Amjit.
The whole
street was happy even hairy Amjit, a new member had
put in an
appearance. There was one unhappy person on the street though.
Martin had
been to sign on the dole, only to be told he'd not be paid any
more as he
had refused several jobs, his benefit would be stopped .
Cursing his
luck Martin drove home, only road works had diverted him onto
the street.
He hated this street, Danny had lived here , Danny had
always given
him money, he'd been a soft touch. Now what did he see only
the whole
bloody street celebrating. Martin could see that Indian girl
too , she
was feeding that dog. He hated that dog, he'd have made
thousands if
that bloody wog and that bloody dog hadn't stopped him at the
fair. Martin
cursed them, he'd like revenge. He was going to be a
father too,
but they'd be nobody to celebrate, no bloody street parties.
Jaswinder
had tied hairy Amjit to a lamp post so she could
lecture him
while she fed him pork scratchings, her large Teddy, Patrick
the Teddy
was also in attendance.
"So you
see nice doggie you'll have somebody else to talk to , another
girl to feed
you and hug you," Jaswinder stroked the dog.
Behind her
Martin stopped his car and opened the door to speak to her.
"Hello,
why is everybody looking so happy and the sign in the butcher's
window,
what's it all about, little girl, " Martin sounded like the
wolf from
Little Red Riding Hood.
"Patrick's
wife has had a baby, when it gets big I'll have a friend to
play
with," explained Jaswinder toying with her pig tails.
Hairy Amjit
began to growl softly, he recognised the smell of that man,
he hadn't
yet remembered where he'd smelt him before but he knew the man
was not a
nice man. Jaswinder smacked hairy Amjit across the nose.
"Don't
be rude, it’s not nice to growl at people," she said.
Hairy Amjit
contented himself with baring his teeth.
"Well
get inside my car and I'll take you to see your new playmate , "
said Martin
smiling, showing his teeth.
"Oh
that would be nice, to see June's new baby," Jaswinder moved a step
nearer the
car.
Hairy Amjit
had remembered who that man was, even if Jaswinder had
forgotten,
so he barked.
"I'll
just tell mummy first, then it'll be ok won't it Amjit , " she
looked at
Amjit.
Amjit jumped
forward, his teeth first, it was time to bite this man ,
he'd put a
place to a smell. That man was bad, he needed biting. The
last thing
Jaswinder saw was the leaping form of hairy Amjit. Sadly by
tying him up
Jaswinder had unwittingly sealed her fate, her doom, Amjit
could not
reach the car and the man driving it. The choke chain dragged
hairy Amjit
to the ground. Quietly Martin drove away , a startled
Jaswinder
next to him.
Hairy Amjit
began to howl, he began to howl with all his might,
he wriggled
to free himself from in his choke chain. After five minutes
he was free,
he raced up the road after the car. Amjit came out of his
shop as soon
as he'd dealt with his last customer.
"Jaswinder
what are you doing to the poor animal, he'd wake the dead ,
Jaswinder
where are you?" Amjit walked to the lamp post.
All he found
was a choke chain still looped around the lamp post, next to
it a
half-eaten bag of pork scratchings, Patrick the Teddy had fallen
over . It
was strange, Jaswinder would never leave Patrick the Teddy
behind .
Perhaps she'd gone to Big Sid's for a fresh supply of pork
scratchings,
scratching his head Amjit walked to Big Sid's.
"Is
Jaswinder here, she left her Teddy behind and hairy Amjit seems to
have
disappeared too ," asked Amjit.
"No,
the last I saw of her she was feeding Amjit, Amjit," said Big Sid
before
bringing his axe down.
"Thanks
I'll try Franks," Amjit looked puzzled.
"No,
I've not seen her, I did see hairy Amjit racing up the road as if
his tail was
on fire, something had annoyed him that was for sure, the
way he was
barking," was Frank's reply.
"Fine,
I'll try the shoe shop," Amjit was even more puzzled.
"No she
wasn't in today, she was in last week trying on the high heels
but today
not a sign of her. Is anything the matter?" asked Tracy.
"No,
nothing," answered Amjit, though his heart was beginning to beat
faster now.
So Amjit
headed for Mark's next, he founded himself hurrying , but
Jaswinder
was safe on the street, so why was he hurrying?
"Not
seen her today, she was in here two days ago with Mathew , they
tried to see
who could blow the most bubbles in their milk shakes. She'll
pop up
somewhere, she's safe around here anyway," explained Mark as he
poured cups
of tea for his customers.
She was safe
around here anyway, but what of hairy Amjit and why had she
left Patrick
the Teddy behind. Amjit felt a breeze blow over him, though
the air was
still. He'd go back to the shop, perhaps she was playing in
the
storeroom.
"Balbinder,
Balbinder is Jaswinder about, she's left her teddy
in the
street and hairy Amjit's gone too, " his voice was higher than
usual.
"She
must be in one of the shops, Sid's getting pork scratching for that
monster dog
of Patrick's," reassured Balbinder.
"I've
tried everywhere . Look you try upstairs , I'll look in the
storeroom,"
their was a shade of urgency in his voice and eyes.
Balbinder
looked at Amjit, he looked away, she rushed to look upstairs.
There was no
sign of Jaswinder.
"I
can't see her, " Balbinder scoured Amjit's face, was he hiding
something
from her.
Amjit was
trying to hide his fear, his misgivings, his gut feelings.
The phone
rang, they ignored it. It rang again, they ignored it, they
stood
staring at each other. They knew but they didn't want to admit it,
not to each
other, they couldn't upset one another.
"I'm
sure she'll turn up, you better answer the phone, " Balbinder was
trying to
sound unconcerned only her eyes gave her away.
Amjit
snatched at the phone, "Yes, what do you want."
"Looking
for your daughter," a smug Martin said.
"Yes,
have you found her !" Amjit sounded relieved, Balbinder smiled.
"Yes,
I've "found" her," teased Martin.
"Great,
where are you? " Amjit smiled to Balbinder, they could relax
everything
was fine now.
"If you
want your daughter, you'll have to pay," Martin had decided on
his revenge.
"Of
course, I'll pay for the taxi, just send her home, " Amjit was
slightly
flustered but he was relaxed, Jaswinder had been found.
"You
don't understand, if you don't do as I say, then you won't see your
daughter
again," Martin paused to let his message sink in.
Amjit's
mouth gaped, he felt as if he'd just received the knockout punch,
he went weak
at the knees, he had to hold onto the counter to stop
himself
falling over. Balninder watched, what had he heard, what had he
just heard,
she sucked the end of her Sari. It was bad, she knew it was
bad, but
what was it, she had to hear, but she was afraid of what she'd
hear.
"Amjit,
what is it !" her eyes pleaded.
"Are
you still there? " asked Martin, he was smiling, he was pleased
with
himself.
"Yes
I'm here, just tell me that my child is safe, " Amjit closed his
eyes, and
gulped.
Martin put
Jaswinder on the phone.
"Daddy,
daddy, he said he was taking me to see Patrick's new baby, "
said
Jaswinder before Martin pushed her away from the phone.
"So you
see, I have your daughter, and if you want her back you'll do
exactly as I
say," Martin paused, he was beginning to enjoy himself.
"What
is it, tell me, tell me," Balbinder shook her husband.
"Jaswinder
has been kidnapped, " Amjit spoke softly, as if it'd hurt
his wife
less.
"Yes
that's right," said Martin from the other end of the phone.
Balbinder
went screaming and wailing into the back of the shop.
"Of course,
it wouldn't be wise to say a word, and I mean a word to the
Police,
that's if you value your child's, well you know exactly what I
mean,"
said Martin gazing down at Jaswinder.
"I just
want my child," said Amjit tersely.
"I'll
be in touch," with that Martin hung up.
Balbinder
and Amjit's parents came from the back of the shop .
Amjit
explained the situation, they spoke in mother tongue, mother tongue
is always
best in times of trouble, it was like "Mother" herself. Amjit
explained,
he repeated everything he had heard ten times over. Each time
he explained
was like stabbing his wife, his mother and his father to
death. But
he had to explain, they had to know, they wanted to know and
he had to
tell them. He felt like an assassin, he was just the messenger
but he felt
like the man pulling the trigger. When Balbinder had come to
England he
promised he'd never hurt her, he'd make her proud and their
children
would be doctors and dentists, or anything they wanted to be ,
but they'd
always be happy. Now he felt he had betrayed them, it was all
his fault,
it was all his fault. His mother began to wail, Balbinder
whailed too,
his father cursed England and the Black Country, the evil
country that
had stolen his granddaughter from him.
Two
customers came in, Balbinder and old Mrs Amjit fled to the
santuary of
the back room, Amjit trying hard to smile served them.
"Have
you some curry powder, our nieces are making us an Indian meal, we
said we'd
bring the curry powder," explained the first lady.
"A mild
one though, we are not used to it," added the second lady.
"Here
this one should be ok," Amjit handed them a packet .
"Thank
you goodbye," said the first lady.
With that
they left the shop, they were content with their purchase.
Their voices
drifted back into the shop.
"It’s
good having a shop open when you need it, these wog shops sell all
manner of
stuff," said the first.
"Yes,
they open all hours and even Sunday, they are not Christian you
know, their
only religion is money," said the second lady.
"Yes
you are right, money is what they worship, they're not decent
Christians
like us," said the first.
Amjit was
angered by what he heard, " It’s a white"Christian" like them
that has
taken my daughter. I'd give anything , everything for her
return. I
work hard to make a living for myself and my family and I have
to put up
with ignorance like that. Do us "wogs" abandon our old ones
and shove
them in a home. If these white "Christians" want success, then
let them
work for it," Amjit's eyes were ablaze, banging the counter.
he began to
cry, to cry like a baby, he just wanted his daughter back,
the love of
family was always top of his list, never the love of money.
His old
father leaning on his walking stick placed a consoling hand on his
son's
shoulder, they both prayed that Jaswinder would be safe.
jul99
Oct91
Chapter
Eleven In Search Of An Indian Princess
*************************************************
The next
morning dawned, the sparrows enjoyed the morning
sunshine,
dancing in the air stopping only to sing while perched on the
telephone
lines. It was going to be a nice morning, the sparrows could
tell, so
they sung their morning song from the telephone lines . Amjit
pulled back
the curtains, a pigeon fluttered off his windowsill, it was
a typical
morning, like thousands of others. The sun was in the sky and
the birds
were greeting it with their birdsong, Ken the postman was
weaving his
way back and forth delivering the morning mail . The
streetlight
went out, night had officially given way to day, it was a
typical day.
But it was
not ! Amjit wanted to scream, behind him lay his
wife sucking
at her sari. They had spent the night crying, holding each
other in
their arms, by turns one was brave and the other was sad , by
turns one
cried and the other comforted. By turns tears and brave false
smiles, by
turns one died and the other offered hope, by turns one went
mad while
the other offered a comforting hand. All by turns all the
night long
till morning had broke, Amjit could cry no more but behind him
Balbinder
was gently crying, a mother's tears never know an end. Amjit
had to be
brave for Jaswinder's sake, he had to open the shop ,
everything
must seem normal. So kissing his wife Amjit went and washed
his face,
then he'd open the shop, he didn't care that his clothes were
all
crumpled, it did not matter, it did not matter.
Amjit had
opened the shop when his old dad came down stairs ,
he'd not
slept either, how could he tell his wife that her grandchild
might be
dead, might never be returned. That's what they were afraid of
but didn't
want to admit it.
"You
have a shower and a shave, my son, I will watch the shop, you must
look smart
at all times it is most important," said old Mr Amjit.
Amjit didn't
have the strength to argue, so he did as he'd been told. It
was while he
was shaving that old Mr Amjit cried, he had to be strong for
his son's
sake, he had to be strong, he couldn't be weak. Decades of
hard work
had sapped his strength, now in his old age he had to be
stronger
than at any time in his life. Old Mr Amjit sighed and held his
walking
stick tight, he heard his son coming so he quickly wiped his
tears away.
"It’s
ok father, look after the women, I will mind the shop, " said
Amjit.
So Amjit's
day began, upstairs he could hear faint wailing from his
mother and
wife , he closed his eyes, he prayed he would be strong
enough to
face whatever was to come.
About noon
Patrick arrived all smiles clutching photos of his new
baby, his
daughter Sheila.
"It was
really great, so exciting, really good. Mind you I stayed at
the talking
end of things," gushed Patrick.
Amjit just
looked at the floor.
"Yes,
really great. Twelve pounds six ounces too, a real big un. Me a
father , I
feel so proud, it must have been the same for you when
Jaswinder
was born," continued Patrick.
Balbinder
who had come into the shop when she'd heard Patrick's voice now
began to
cry, all this talk of children. Patrick started to show the
photos to
Amjit, Balbinder cried even more.
"I
don't blame her it is very emotional stuff having babies and so on ,
just between
the three of us, I cried a little too," Patrick continued.
Amjit
pretended to look at the photos, only he had started to cry too.
"Yes
it’s really great being a dad, but you know about that already. Mrs
Kemp hugged
me, I could hardly believe it, she hugged me !"
"I am
pleased for you," said Amjit sounding as if in pain.
"We are
calling the baby Sheila after my mother, Sheila Murphy, sounds
good don't
you think?" Patrick was admiring the photos of his daughter.
Tears began
streaming down Amjit's face, he made no effort to wipe them
away.
"Yes
,it’s really great being a da, " Patrick stopped in mid-sentence ,
he knew
something was wrong.
Balbinder
opened her mouth as if to say something, a glare from Amjit
make her
close her mouth again. Balbinder went into the family quarters,
there was
shouting and arguing then Balbinder and Amjit's parents came
out.
"We
must tell him, for the sake of his own child, " Balbinder looked
afraid but
was defiant.
"No,
think of Jaswinder !" shouted Amjit.
Patrick had
never seen Balbinder and Amjit argue before, he was confused,
he began to
put his photos away, he knew they weren't interested.
"What's
this about "for the sake of my child" and"Jaswinder", come
on
tell me, you
can trust me whatever it is," Patrick sounded anxious.
"We
don't know who we can trust," said Amjit the look in his eyes almost
calling
Patrick a Judas.
"Your
child is not safe on the street !" blurted Balbinder, a mother's
womb
speaking.
Amjit cursed
his wife , a fierce argument broke out in Indian, Patrick
was ignored.
After five minutes harmony was restored to Amjit's family.
"Swear
on your child's life that you will not tell anybody outside your own
family,
swear it on your child's life !" Amjit was nearly shouting.
Patrick was
confused, what was going on, just what was going on.
"I
swear," said a hesitant Patrick.
"Jaswinder
has been kidnapped," explained Amjit.
"J e s
u s," whispered Patrick, the wind had been taken from his sails.
"You
must keep you child away from the street, just in case the man comes
back for
your child, but you must tell nobody. Or Jaswinder might be in
danger,"
continued Amjit.
"I'm
sorry, I don't know what to say. June's coming out of hospital
tomorrow I
think, I'll get my mother to look after her. The street isn't
safe
anymore," said Patrick shaking his head.
Balbinder
began to cry afresh, she knew only to well that the street
wasn't safe
anymore.
"I'm a
shit," said Patrick closing his eyes.
"No,
you are a friend, a good friend, " said Amjit fighting back the
tears.
There was a
noise amongst the canned foods, Amjit spun around, it was
George and
Brownie, they'd not been noticed.
"Just
the one tin of peas please, we don't eat many of them , " said
George
handing over the money.
"Yes we
don't eat much peas," echoed Brownie.
Clutching
their peas the street's gossips left Amjit's store.
"The
last people on earth I'd want to overhear me, and it’s them," Amjit
began pacing
back and forth, should he run after them or what?
"They're
old , they probably didn't hear, " said Patrick placing a
reassuring
hand on Amjit's arm.
"I
suppose you are right, they are old, they wouldn't have heard ,
besides they
can't have been in the shop long, " Amjit was trying to
reassure
himself.
"I
still feel like a shit, like a jester at a funeral," sighed Patrick.
"No you
are a good friend, together we will bring Jaswinder home , "
Amjit smiled
though his tears, there was always hope, there had to be.
George and
Brownie wanted to look back over their shoulders to
Amjit's shop
but they daren't, they needed time to think. So standing
outside Bid
Sid's shop window pretending to look at the meat they mulled
things over.
"Jaswinder
kidnapped and Patrick's baby not safe on the street , it’s
terrible,"
George pointed at some liver.
"Amjit
shouted at his wife too, she looked in a terrible state , she's
always so
pretty but her eyes looked like muddy pools with all the makeup
running
everywhere," Brownie pointed at some chicken.
"We've
got to help, we just have to, "George pointed to some pork chops.
"We're
old though, what can we do?" Brownie pointed to a rabbit.
"We
must do something though mustn’t we? " George pointed to a leg of
lamb.
"Yes we
must lover, all for one and one for all," Brownie kissed George
on the
cheek.
"I'm
glad you said that, I'd never be able to live with myself if we did
nothing,"
George kissed Brownie on the cheek.
Together
they went into Big Sid's butchers , they felt nervous, but they
had to tell
him, they just had too, they were old, they needed help,
Jaswinder
needed help, lots of it.
"I thought
you were buying the whole shop window the way you were pointing
at
everything," boomed Big Sid a smile on his lips.
"Can we
go into the deep freeze, we couldn't see what we were after in
the
window," lied Brownie.
Once in the
deepfreeze George dropped the bombshell.
"No,
no, no, no, not my Indian Princess !" Big Sid had to hold onto a
side of beef
to support himself.
"And
that's about it, I really am sorry but we had to tell you, " said
an
apologetic Brownie.
"Come
on please tell me this is some kind of sick joke and Jeremy Beadle
is outside,
oh please tell me it’s a joke, tell me it’s a joke, come on
tell me your
vegetarians or something, just tell me it’s a joke, " Big
Sid slid
down the side of beef till he was on his knees, holding his head
against the
carcass he began to cry.
George and
Brownie waited for his tears to stop.
"Sid
nobody must know, it has to be a secret or Jaswinder will be in
danger , so
no outbursts or anything, " Brownie put her hand on his
shoulder.
Big Sid
pulled himself up, wiping his tears away on the edge of his
apron.
"I'm
sorry it was such a shock, I mean we're all supposed to be
celebrating
Patrick and June's new baby, not a kidnapping, " Sid blew
his nose.
"Are
you ok now?" asked George.
"Yes
I'm fine, you better go and tell everybody, we can meet in Mark's
tonight to
discuss it, just make sure you're not overheard," sighed Big
Sid.
The three of
them left the solitude of the deep freeze , George and
Brownie felt
like messengers of death, but they had to do it, the die
had been
caste. Outside some teenagers with time on their hands had
decided to
taunt Henry the road sweeper, they were dropping pieces of
paper and
pointing to them, creating more work for Henry and sport for
themselves .
Big Sid happened to glance outside , he saw what was
happening,
he couldn't stop himself his emotions had to be vented. Big
Sid stormed
out of his butchers and caught the ringleader by the throat.
"Think
it’s funny hey, teasing Henry as if he's not got enough work to do
already.
I'll show you funny, do you want me to cut your bleeding head
off ? "
shouted Big Sid waving his meat cleaver under the spotty youth's
nose.
"No,
Sir, sorry Sir," mumbled the spotty youth his eyes fixed on Big
Sid's
cleaver,
"Well
start growing up sonny before it's too late or you'll never be a man
no matter
how tall you get. And if you don't clean the whole street up
I'll CHOP
YOUR BOLLOCKS OFF ! " Big Sid shook the tall spotty youth, for
good measure
he pressed the cold steel against the youth's spotty face.
The youth nearly
faint, his friends stood rigid and open mouthed.
"Well
get on with it, clean up your mess, and if there's just one sweet
wrapper left
I'll chop your head off ! " screamed Big Sid before pushing
the spotty
kid to one side.
Big Sid
stood menacingly in his doorway while the teenagers grew up, and
fast . The
teenagers scurried about like demented Wombles almost wetting
themselves
with fear when they couldn't get some chewing gum off the
pavement.
Henry leant on his broom and had a fag, deliberately he threw
the match to
the ground, the teenagers fell over themselves in their
haste to
pick it up and put it in the rubbish bin. After fifteen minutes
the street
practically shone, the teenagers were all sweating, a hint of
fear still
in their eyes. Having a final drag on his fag Henry smiled.
"Well
piss off then, I think you just about know what Keep Britain Tidy
means now,
" Henry felt like Clint Eastwood, totally in charge, he had
no magnum
just a broom, and a very big friend with a meat cleaver.
George and Brownie
went to see Percy next, Percy would know
what to do.
"Oh God
no," Percy just looked at them, hoping they'd made a mistake.
"What
are we going to do? Big Sid thinks we should all meet in Mark's
tonight,"
continued Brownie.
"He's
right, we must think coolly, we must not let our emotions get the
better of
us, for Jaswinder's sake," Percy began to show them out as if
he was
unconcerned.
"We'll
see you tonight then," said Brownie.
"Oh
yes, tonight then," Percy replied absent-mindedly.
Percy's mind
was on funerals, a child's funeral, a friend's child's
funeral. He
had to bear it in mind, as horrible a thought it was, he
had to keep
it in mind. If the worst came to the worst.
At the Post
Office George and Brownie slid in, trying not to
look
suspicious, but looking suspicious in the process. There were one
or two
customers in the Post Office so George pulled out a Passport
application
form and started to fill it. As soon as the last customer
left Brownie
bolted the door, they did not want to be overheard after
all.
"If I
didn't know you two better I'd say you were going to rob me , "
joked Wendy.
"Jaswinder
has been kidnapped," said George slowly, each word a pain.
Wendy looked
from George to Brownie then back again. She began to tidy up
her counter,
almost to Spring Clean.
"Yes,
but what do you really want," Wendy half smiled.
"Jaswinder
has been kidnapped, we're all meeting tonight in Mark's to try
and see what
we can do, but for Jaswinder's sake no stranger must find
out,"
explained Brownie.
Again Wendy
began to tidy up her counter, to rub at the pencil marks, to
sharpen her
pencils, to weigh a parcel, to reweigh it. She must be
hearing
things, it couldn't be true, she must get on with her work, she
couldn't be
delayed by idle chatter, the work of the Post Office must go
on. Brownie
reached over the counter and clasped Wendy's hands, Brownie
had been the
same when her first husband had died, she'd tried to carry
on as if
nothing was wrong, as if everything was normal.
"Wendy,
be strong, we all have to be strong for Amjit's sake , think
what he's
going through, think of Balbinder. Be strong for them Wendy,
be strong
for them," Brownie looked Wendy in the eye.
Wendy began
to sob, she knew it was true now, Jaswinder was gone from
them.
Brownie waited for the tears to stop, George stood about feeling
akward he
started to fill in more of the Passport application.
"It's
ok, I'm ok now, it’s such a shock that's all," said Wendy dabbing
at her
tears.
"We'll
be going then, chin up dear," Brownie smiled.
Discarding
his passport application George followed Brownie out , Wendy
still
slightly flustered knocked all her pens and pencils over , after
first
stamping George's Passport application form.
Frank was
the next to hear the news, he'd been polishing his
favourite
peice, a small occasional table with a fancy inlay design on
the top. It
was never for sale, it was a form of talisman for him ,
Frank
sometimes talked to the table when the shop was empty, it was his
baby. Frank
felt dizzy when he heard the bad news, so he sat down on the
table, the
table gave way under the weight and Frank went crashing to the
floor.
"Are
you ok?" asked a concerned George offering a helping hand to Frank.
"It was
such terrible news, I was expecting a laugh, a joke or some kind
of story
from you, you know the usual sort of gossip . But this is
terrible,
really terrible," said Frank as he dusted himself down.
"We'll
we'll leave you then, we have to tell the others, don't forget
not a word
to anybody, everything must seem normal for Jaswinder's sake,
so stay
calm," advised Brownie.
Arm in arm
George and Brownie left Frank's Furnishings, as for Frank he
kicked at
the pieces of the occasional table. It has been his talisman
for nearly
twenty years, perhaps he'd be able to glue it back together
again. But
what of Jaswinder, she couldn't be glued back together again,
Frank felt a
shiver down his spin. He hurriedly picked up the pieces and
put them in
a hope chest, perhaps when everything was resolved he'd glue
the table
back together again. Right now though he wanted to get it out
of his
sight, he began to polish the furniture in his showroom, if he
kept busy
his mind would not dwell on Jaswinder, it was too much to think
about, too
heavy, too dark a thought.
Brownie
dashed into the clothes shop, then she waved George
in, then
together they went all over the shop as if looking for a bomb or
something.
Ann and Mary looked on bemused and slightly amused.
"Come
on we give in, what is it?" asked Mary.
"Yes
come on, you look like store detectives or something," added Ann.
"Jaswinder
is missing," began Brownie.
"Got
lost you mean?" asked Mary.
"Worst
than that, kidnapped," explained George lowering his voice.
Mary and Ann
looked at each other, this must be a joke, but why had they
began to
shiver.
"Say,
say, s say, say that again ," slurred Mary.
"Kidnapped,"
said Brownie.
Ann
screamed, then burst into tears, before running to the toilet at the
back of the
shop.
"I'll
see to her," said Mary.
"Just
be at Mark's tonight, and remember to act normal, nobody must know
about this
or Jaswinder's life could be in danger," said George.
Brownie gave
Mary a comforting hug before she followed George out of the
shop. Mary
watched them go, this was terrible, it was like hearing that
a friend had
been raped. It was so shocking, and why, and why oh why?
They decided
to tell Mark next, he'd be the host after all.
Gillian
screamed and dropped a tray, Mark reached under the counter and
poured some
whisky into their teas. He looked at George and Brownie as if
to ask was
it really true, but unfortunately their faces said it was true
it was
really true.
"Can I
make you a bite to eat?" offered Mark.
"I'm
not hungry, what about you Brownie? " asked George as he slumpted
in a chair.
"Me
neither, lets go home," Brownie got up.
"See
you later then," whispered Mark feeling suddenly so weak.
"See
you later then," said Brownie over her shoulder, as she linked her
arm into
George's.
Outside
George and Brownie looked at each other, they felt like crows
picking the
worms from freshly dug graves, but they had to tell, they
had too,
Amjit needed help, and the street would help.
"I
don't know about you but I think I'll have a good cry when we get home,
a cup of tea
and a good cry," said Browie her eyes filling with tears.
"Me
too, I'm just so weak, so old, so useless, I just want to cry and
cry and
cry," said George sighing.
"Let's
get home first, lover, " said Brownie giving George a consoling
kiss.
That evening
the street gather at Mark's cafe, they were in
sombre mood.
Everybody looked, almost glared when Smiling Paul brought
Catherine
along .Percy stood and welcomed her to the family , to the
street
family, he said no more, he did not have too. Smiling Paul nodded
his thanks
to Percy, Catherine could be trusted, she was one of them.
Big Sid
brought a reluctant Patrick and Amjit to the meeting ,
sombre faces
greeted them. Sid stood with his back to the door so nobody
could come
in, nor could they leave.
"What's
up , you don't want to see my photos do you, " said Patrick
nervously
reaching into his pocket.
Amjit looked
at the faces, they looked away from his gaze, they looked
almost
guilty, afraid to look him in the face. Patrick put the photos
back in his
pocket, he looked uncomprehendingly at the people gathered in
front of
him. Everybody stole glances at each other, waiting to see
who'd speak
first, they were like children in a classroom, hoping that
the teacher
wouldn't ask them a question: they had to be there they just
wished they
weren't . Patrick noticed that Betty and Annie had tear
stained faces,
and they were dressed plainly, Patrick looked at Amjit
opening his
mouth as if to speak. But it was Mark who spoke.
"As it
is my cafe, I'd better speak first, " he paused and took a deep
breath,"
we know."
"Well
Sheila is a nice name for a child," Patrick's voice croaked.
Turning to
look directly at Amjit Mark spoke again, "we know."
"Judas
!" hissed Amjit before spitting in Patrick's face.
Amjit moved
towards the door, only Big Sid barred his way. George could
stand it no
longer he jumped up from his seat, he had to say something.
"It was
me, I overheard, I told everybody, " George sounded like the
guilty
schoolboy owning up.
"It was
us, WE did it, WE only wanted to help," added Brownie.
Amjit looked
at the faces, all of his friends gathered there , all
wanting to
help.
Percy stood
up, strong words were needed,"Amjit you are amongst friends
not a word
will leave this room. Please let us help. We respect your
decision,
the Police will not be informed, but let US help, we are your
friends.
Jaswinder is not our flesh our blood, but we love her as if she
was, please
let us help. Let us prove the depth of our friendship, our
love for her
and for you and your family. At the dark hour it is friends
who bind us,
who give us strength, who lend us hope when our own is low.
Here is my
hand, here is my strength, here is my hope, here is my love,
just take it
and use it. Are we not friends, then lean on me, lean on
all of us,
we are many the burden will be made light. Together we can
banish the
shadows of fear, we have nothing to fear but fear it’self .
When I
needed a friend Patrick was there for me, when Patrick needed a
friend we
were all there for him and the home, when all our homes were in
peril we
stood and fought. Have no fear for we are all friends, together
we have
greater strength than our sum total, for we are united in
friendship
and in love. We all have nothing to fear, there is always
hope,
Jaswinder will be found, she will return to play on the street,
for we are
united in love and friendship. Take my hand it is at your
command,
shake hands for we all are friends, " Percy held out his hand
for Amjit to
take.
Amjit stood
silent, again he examined the faces, they were pleading with
him, all
they wanted was to be allowed to share the burden, the pain.
Big Sid was
crying, like a teddy bear who'd been discarded for some
plastic toy,
he'd always respected Percy but now, how could he put in
words , he
was no Percy, no p£t. For five minutes Amjit stood and
looked at
all the faces, like spring flowers waiting for the scythe.
"We are
friends," he whispered.
Big Sid put
a fatherly hand on Amjit's shoulder, the plastic toy was
banished,
the teddy bear could return.
They talked
for an hour in hushed tones, as if they were
talking in
church, or at a funeral. It was decided that Patrick would
carry on
with his hand holding exercise, though they dared not call it by
such a name.
As for the rest, George and Brownie would keep people
abreast of
events. If a helping hand was needed, all Amjit had to do was
whistle so
to speak.
"But
what about your daughter, your wife," asked a concerned Brownie.
"Well
I've been thinking all day, I thought I'd send them to my mothers
and get
Mathew to babysit," Patrick sucked his lip.
"They
should be ok at your mothers, besides Mathew might give the game
away if he
was about," mused Mark.
"Ok ,
so it’s all decided, if the man contacts you then you let us all
know, we'll
do exactly what you tell us to do," said Percy rounded off
the
discussion.
"I'm
sorry I didn't trust you, any of you. But Jaswinder's safety is
paramount,"
Amjit sounded almost apologetic.
"We are
all at your command, now go home and try to sleep," said Percy
shaking
hands with Amjit.
Leaving the
cafe Amjit stumbled, he felt so weak, so humbled. He had to
lean on Big
Sid as he walked back to his own shop. But at least he was no
longer
alone, he had friends. Percy turned to Smiling Paul and Catherine
"Well I
suppose that you now know what kind of people we are, you already
know what
kind of man Smiling Paul is, goodnight, " with that Percy
walked away,
he had a corpse to prepare.
Patrick went
back home, he'd better ring his mother to tell
her, to tell
her everything. He got himself a can of lager first, then
putting it
down after drinking nearly half of it he rung his mom.
"Hello
it’s Patrick," he paused.
"You're
not thinking of an excuse for why you didn't visit your own wife
in hospital
today, a fine father you're turning out to be," scolded his
mother.
"Mom,"
Patrick paused again.
"Are
you alright you didn't have an accident," butted in Mrs Murphy.
"Mom,"
Patrick paused, he needed a sip from his drink.
"What's
up, did you set fire to the house or something, " asked Mrs
Murphy a
sense of urgency in her voice.
"Mom,
just sit down I have some news," Patrick gulped.
"What's
the matter? " Mrs Murphy knew something was up, Patrick had the
same tone of
voice as when he broke the glass in her Sacred Heart all
those years
ago, she just knew something was up.
"Are
you sitting down?" asked Patrick quietly.
"You
sound like Listen With Mother," said a sour Mrs Murphy.
"Mom,
I've got some bad news. Jaswinder has been kidnapped," Patrick
paused and
took another sip from his lager.
"Mother
of God NO, she'd just a child almost a baby. Her poor mother,
I'll be
round straight away," Mrs Murphy was reaching for her headscarf.
"No Mom
you have another job, it’s not safe on the street, I want you to
look after
June and baby Shiela. They'll be leaving the hospital tomorrow
so I think
it’s best that they stay with you, " Patrick waited for the
news to sink
in.
"Of
course you're right, but what about Balbinder and Amjit?"
"The
street all knows, we're going to help in whatever way we can, but
the Police
must not find out, or Jaswinder could be in danger."
"But
what if the kidnapper knows about baby Sheila?"
"Just
in case, I'll get Mathew to stay with you. I'll tell him to
protect you
all, it’s the best I can do, not unless you want to go away
somewhere."
"I will
not, no kidnapper is going to frighten me away from my home, "
Mrs Murphy
sounded defiant.
"I'll
see you tomorrow then, God Bless," Patrick hung up.
Mrs Murphy
looked at the phone, Patrick never said "God Bless"
but now he
had. Mrs Murphy stood next to the phone, should she ring
Balbinder
and offer her support, and what about her grandchild , would
she be safe.
She was about to move away from the phone but she was drawn
back to it,
she dialled Fr. Shaw.
"Is
this conversation covered by the seal of the confessional? " asked
Mrs Murphy.
"Well,
if you like," replied a surprised Fr. Shaw.
"Can
you start a Novena then, right away, " Mrs Murphy sounded like a
conspirator.
"Who
to," Fr. Shaw was intrigued and a little concerned.
"Saint
Anthony I supposed," answered Mrs Murphy.
"What
have you lost?" Fr. Shaw sounded on edge.
"Jaswinder,
the little Indian girl has been," Mrs Murphy looked around
her as if
she could be overheard in her own home," has been kidnapped."
"I'll
start straight away," Fr. Shaw was shocked.
"And if
you can think of any other of the "lads" who might be able to
help then
ask them too, ask some of the old saints too they might not be
busy they
might have some time on their hands, " added Mrs Murphy before
she hung up.
Mrs Murphy's
heart went out to Balbinder and Amjit, she wanted
to cry too
but tears would get in the way, she had things to see to, she
had to get
ready for June and baby Sheila and not to mention Mathew. But
first she
had something important to do. She started her own Novena ,
they take
nine days, but they never fail. Sometimes you don't get what
you ask for
, but you get what you need, as far as Mrs Murphy was
concerned
they never failed, so she started hers. First she rooted about
looking for
her favourite beads, the ones she used on special occasions,
the beads
her mother had given her. Only she couldn't find them.
"Are
you teasing me, I'm going to be asking you important things , and
you hide my
beads on me. What kind of mischief maker are you. Do I have
to pray to
Saint Anthony before I can pray to Saint Anthony."
Eventually
she found the beads in an old shopping bag which she'd not
used in
months, stiffly she got to her knees and blessed herself.
"Well
you know what I'm asking for, so I'll begin."
So she began
her prayers and then three rosaries, but somehow it didn't
seem enough,
praying normally left her full, like after a meal, full
and
contented, but somehow she felt empty. She got up from her knees and
sat in her
chair, she had to think, looking up at the Sacred Heart she
sighed.
"Only a
mother could know what it’s like, how can a man even if he is a
Saint know,
I'm not belittling you Anthony, it’s just that, well I just
wish you
were a woman. The Virgin Mary knows what it’s like, just think
when her son
went missing, only to turn up safe and sound in the Temple.
Poor little
Jaswinder, the Little Indian Princess Big Sid calls her."
Mrs Murphy's
gaze fell on an old magazine, a smiling face shone at her,
Mrs Murphy
bent down and picked up the magazine , she smiled a
conspiratorial
smile. Blessing herself she began to pray again.
"Well I
know this is a bit of a cheek, as I've asked old saints and
established
saints to help, " she paused, " well I'm going to jump the
gun, I'd
like a little help from her," Mrs Murphy held up the photo so
that the
Sacred Heart could see.
"Mother
Theresa Of Calcutta, or Saint Mother Theresa Of Calcutta can you
find
Jaswinder, keep an eye out for her like you do all those children,
I know I'm
being cheeky, the cheek of the Devil, but perhaps thats whats
needed to
save a Little Indian Princess."
Mrs Murphy
felt contented now, she'd continue her Novena to Saint Anthony
and some of
the other "lads", but Mother Theresa was on the team now, so
everything
would be alright. Mrs Murphy had no doubts, she didn't know,
but she had
Faith, and Mother Theresa on her side. After another three
rosaries Mrs
Murphy stopped, she gave a smile of thanks to the photo of
Mother
Theresa.
"Well
if you pardon me, I'll just go and make the beds, then I'll have a
spot of tea,
praying makes me thirsty, " Mrs Murphy smiled, Jaswinder
would be ok
so long as she kept on praying, and as she'd keep on
praying till
Jaswinder was ok, so there was nothing to worry about.
Nodding to
the Sacred Heart Mrs Murphy left the room, she had to prepare
the welcome
for June baby Sheila and Mathew.
Amjit and
family slept sound that night, exhaustion and relief
that their
burden was being shared ensured they slept well, but when they
awoke they
still felt tired, oh so tired. George and Brownie didn't
sleep much
that night though, they cried for Jaswinder, had they put her
life in
jeopardy? Eventually still holding hands they fell asleep ,the
sound of
letters falling through the letter box woke them. Brownie got up
and switched
on the teas-made, a belated Wedding present from the street.
Quietly ,
without saying a word they had their tea. When the tea was
drunk they
remained silent for ten minutes, almost in prayer.
"Well
come on lover, we're not John and Yoko having a love in, we better
get dressed,
somebody has to hold Amjit's hand while Patrick fetches his
baby from
hospital," with that Brownie pulled the blankets off George.
"You do
think we did the right thing?" George sounded anxious.
"Of
course we did, " Brownie sounded certain, though inside she was as
uncertain as
her husband.
"That's
a weight off my mind, can I have another cup of tea first ? "
asked George
pulling the blankets back in position.
"You'll
certainly picking up so very continental habit’s since we've got
this
teas-made," joked Brownie.
George
laughed, it was good to laugh, Brownie always made him smile
that's why
he married her.
Patrick
nipped over the road to Amjit before setting off for
the
hospital, he was full of apologies, saying he'd only be an hour or
two.
Balbinder smiled weakly, she understood, she felt almost guilty
that she
couldn't share in Patrick's joy. So saying sorry for the tenth
time Patrick
left for the hospital. As he left George and Brownie
arrived to
carry on the vigil.
Patrick was
a few hundred yards from the hospital when he
noticed for
the first time that Big Sid had been following him , Patrick
looked over
his shoulder, he couldn't believe his mirrors , but his
mirrors
didn't lie, he was being followed. Michael was waiting at the
hospital ,
his engine running and his doors open, Mathew was in the
passenger
seat sitting next to Mrs Murphy.
"Well
Mathew, I have a very important job for you, will you do it? "
Patrick
spoke quietly.
"Yep,"
replied an eager Mathew, he felt an adventure was in the offing.
"I want
you to go and stay with my mother, and June and baby Sheila, a
kind of
holiday if you like," Patrick smiled nervously.
"Great,
will I get milk shakes too?" asked Mathew.
"Twice
a day," promised Mrs Murphy.
"Mathew
, there's something very important you must do too, " Patrick
paused, he
lowered his voice before continuing , " Mathew there's a
man, a nasty
man who might hurt mom, or June or the baby. So can you
look after
them," Patrick's voice began to croak.
"Yep,"
smiled Mathew, not understanding the situation.
Patrick
looked at Michael, then at his mother before placing his hand
on Mathew's
arm.
"Mathew,
if anybody tries to hurt mom, or June or baby Jaswinder , "
Patrick
stopped, his thoughts had betrayed him, " or baby Jaswinder I
mean, well
if they try you must stop them."
Mathew
looked confused , he looked troubled . He was expecting an
adventure
like when he helped the old lady move house, he didn't really
understand
what was going on.
"It’s
an adventure Mathew, you look after the women, and if anybody comes
too close
you growl, like "Jaws" in the James Bond film last night."
Mathew
smiled, he could understand James Bond.
"But,
if anybody gets too close, you must hit them Mathew, you must hit
them so hard
they won't get up, " Patrick smiled trying to make light of
G.B.H..
"Remember
the nasty man in Wayne's pub, the man you hit, " Mrs Murphy
was coaxing now.
"Yep,"
Mathew still sounded uncertain.
"Well
it’s a naughty man like that, so you must hit him if needs be , it’s
ok. to hit
naughty men, " Mrs Murphy sounded like a priest giving
absolution.
"Ok ,
" Mathew still didn't sounded convinced, but if Patrick and Mrs
Murphy both
said it was ok. then it must be.
Patrick got
out the taxi and headed for the ward , Big Sid
followed two
paces behind. As Patrick approached the ward from another
direction
the Gavin twins appeared, standing shoulder to shoulder almost
blocking the
corridor.
"We
were just passing by, thought we might come and see the baby , "
explained
Luke.
Patrick
looked back at Big Sid, so that's what he'd been up to. Inside
the ward
June was ready to leave, all she had to do was pick baby Sheila
up from the
cot. The doctor came to give June some vitamin tablets, he
raised his
eyebrows at the sight of so many hulks.
"Friends,"
smiled an unsuspecting June.
So gathering
up Sheila in her arms she left the ward, Big Sid led the way
the Gavin
twins grouped protectively around her, Patrick was at her side.
"It was
nice for the boys to come and see me," smiled June as she pulled
faces at her
baby, her precious bundle.
"They
are good lads, I think Big Sid insisted on it , " explained
Patrick.
They reached
the waiting taxi, Michael was revving the engine as if he was
driving a
getaway car, June noticed Mathew and Mrs Murphy in the back .
And why had
the Gavin Twins surrounded the taxi, and she was sure Big Sid
was
fingering a meat cleaver inside that carrier bag he was carrying.
"Just
get in the taxi, I'll follow in my car, " Patrick tried to sound
as if
nothing was the matter.
Big Sid came
forward and handed the bag to Mrs Murphy.
"You'll
need to keep your strength up," he explained.
The carrier
was full of meat, on top barely covered by another bag was a
gleaming
cleaver, Big Sid had spent an hour sharpening it, you could
shave a man
with it, or kill a man with it. Michael drove off , June
looked back
at Patrick, something was wrong, very wrong.
"What's
up Sheila," June knew something was up.
"Wait
till we get to my house," began Mrs Murphy.
"But
aren't we going home, and why is Mathew here , " June looked
worried.
The Gavin
twins' lorry sailed past, they'd take the lead, Patrick was
behind in
his car with Big Sid at the rear.
"Tell
me," June was insistent.
"The
street's not safe, Jaswinder has been kidnapped, " explained Mrs
Murphy,
everything was going wrong, June was frightened now, and Mathew
now knew
too.
"Jaswinder
!" shouted Mathew.
June held
her baby closer to her, Mathew began to cry.
"Look
everything will be ok, Mathew will be staying with us, and Michael
is doing to
my house via the back streets. Mathew I'm sorry we didn't
tell you but
you have a very special job, you must look after me and June
and baby
Sheila. Patrick and the rest will find Jaswinder, but you have
to look
after me, here have a sweet, " Mrs Murphy held out a bag of
sweets for
Mathew to take one.
The rest of
the journey was spent in silence, when they arrived
at Mrs
Murphy's Patrick went inside, the Gavins and Big Sid stayed
outside.
"We'll
mount a guard here, Sid, Mathew will be on the inside and we'll
be on the
outside. There's four of us we can cover the 24 hours in the
day easily.
Your place is back on the street, we know how much you love
children,
but your place is back on the street," Luke spoke gently like
a father to
a son.
"It's
good of you to do this, I knew I could rely on you, it’s just that
if I lost my
two favourites I think I'd go mad," Sid blew his nose.
"Go on
go back to the street," said John trying to sound encouraging.
Inside
Mathew had quietened down, he been told he had the most
important
job, so he believed it. At least here Mathew wouldn't spill
the beans
accidently, guarding the woman would keep him out of harms way,
Patrick just
prayed that harm didn't come acalling. After a light meal
which Mrs
Murphy insisted on making Patrick left after kissing June for
all he was
worth.
"I'll
phone," with that Patrick dashed to his car, it was beginning to
rain, he
didn't notice that the Gavin Twins' lorry was parked a few yards
down the
road.
Patrick
relieved George and Brownie, it was his turn to hold
Amjit's hand
now.
"How's
the baby?" asked Amjit as if asking how much fun a funeral was.
"Fine,
she's got June's hair, " Patrick felt guilty talking about his
new born
daughter.
They were
both silent for a minute, they couldn't look each other in the
eye,like
when a doctor has to tell a patient that he is dying, nothing
can prepare
you for situations like these, you just do the best you can.
Patrick
decided to offer encouragement.
"Look
everything will be ok, Percy said it'd be ok, it’s probably an
amateur,
it’s just something silly, something well something . Anyway
Jaswinder's
safe you heard her voice, " Patrick's voice trailed off he
was digging
his own grave, his mother would know what to say , she'd
laugh and
joke, she'd spit in the face of fear, only he could find the
right thing
to say.
An hour
later the phone rang, Amjit jumped to answer it.
"Yes,"
his voice was on edge.
"It’s
me, I want money, I can't afford to feed your little wog daughter,
she's such a
pain in the arse," said a voice, the kidnapper's voice.
"How
much, when do I get her back? " Amjit struggled to keep his voice
low, to stay
calm.
"Just
leave the money, then I'll be in touch," replied the voice.
"Where,
where?" Amjit's voice was getting higher.
"There's
a phone box at the junction of Haverly Street and Shorttree
Street in
the Abbington area, leave £300 inside the telephone
directory,"
explained the voice.
"Can I
speak to my daughter? " Amjit's voice sounded weak now, he was
fearing the
worst.
"No."
"Just
for a second."
"No."
The phone
went dead, Amjit held the receiver tight as if Jaswinder would
come to the
phone, he cleared his throat then looked at Patrick.
"£300
in a phone box, he wouldn't let me speak to Jaswinder," tears were
forming in
his eyes.
"Percy
was right then it’s an amateur, he'll slip up and Jaswinder will
soon be
home," Patrick was trying to sound encouraging.
"Do you
think so?" Amjit looked like somebody who'd been stood up ,
trying to
believe a friends comforting words.
"I know
so," lied Patrick.
Martin put
down the phone, he felt good, he had power now,
real power.
With Danny he had to lie and boast and trick, but now all he
had to do
was phone, soon he'd have £300, well worth the price of a 10p
phone call.
This little wog was going to be a meal ticket. He went back
to the car,
his girlfriend was waiting for him.
"We've
got to collect our first instalment, just five minutes away," he
smiled, he
was pleased with himself, he should have taken up this line of
work ages
ago.
"Do you
think she'll be ok on her own," asked the girlfriend.
"Of
course she will, besides you gave her a cushion to sit on when I
locked her
in that cupboard, we'll not running a hotel after all ,"
Martin leant
over and kissed his girl, everything was coming up roses ,
it was if
Spring was in the air.
Jaswinder
was all alone, locked in the cupboard with just a
cushion for
comfort, the girlfriend had whispered "sorry" as she locked
Jaswinder in
there, but it was so confusing, she'd been promised that
she'd be
taken to see Patrick's new baby, so why was she in the cupboard.
Jaswinder
hugged the cushion, it felt soft just like her big teddy, just
like Patrick
the Teddybear.
"Don't
be afraid teddy, daddy will find me, then we can go and visit
Patrick's
new baby," Jaswinder kissed the cushion.
Patrick
drove Amjit to the drop off point, they had decided
that they'd
try and find somewhere to hide, perhaps they'd be able to
trail the
kidnapper. Amjit went and put the £300 in the phone book in the
telephone
box, he noticed a bus shelter a few yards from it and a shop on
the corner
over the road, they'd be perfect places to watch from.
"Ok ,
I'll hide in the shelter, you can watch from the shop, " said
Patrick.
Amjit picked
up a basket and started to do some shopping, taking
his time,
reading or pretending to read all the labels, just as a health
freak d£s.
He could see the phone box clearly from his vantage point
inside the
shop. A very pregnant girl went into the phone box and then
waddled away
after making a call, she was the only person to use the
phone box in
the thirty minutes Amjit was watching. Somebody had been
watching
Amjit too, the shopkeeper had been watching.
"You a
shoplifter or something? You've got five items in that basket and
you've been
reading all the labels," growled the shopkeeper.
"I'm
careful about what I eat," answered a defensive Amjit.
"Well
it hasn't made your eyesight very good, you were reading those last
two labels
upside down, or are you an Australian ? " sneered the
shopkeeper.
"I'll
pay now then," said Amjit putting his basket down at the checkout.
"What's
your game, do you think I was born yesterday , I've been a
shopkeeper
for ten years, " the shopkeeper was very suspicious and he
didn't like
the look of the "Australian" in front of him.
"I'm a
shopkeeper too," smiled Amjit hoping that it'd clear the air.
"So
that's your game, you're trying to undercut me, is your mate outside
in that
phone box, you've got a walkie-talkie and your sending the prices
out to
him," the shopkeeper was biting at the bit now.
"Are
you going to take my order or not?" asked Amjit.
"No,"
spat the shopkeeper.
"Keep
your basket then, " Amjit threw the basket at the man, then ran
around the
corner, away from the phone box, he couldn't afford to draw
any more
attention to himself.
Amjit just
hoped that Patrick was having better luck, only he
wasn't,
nothing seemed to be going right. Patrick had hidden in the bus
shelter, he
had a clear view of the phone box from there. However the
neighbourhood
watch coordinator had a clear view of the bus shelter and
Patrick,
from his house.
"I've
been watching you why are you hanging around here?" said the old
army
corporal.
"I'm
waiting for a bus," replied an irritated Patrick.
"No
you're not, three have past in the past 40 minutes and you haven't
got on any
of them, " the old army corporal edged forward, perhaps he
could make a
citizen's arrest.
"It's
not the one I'm want, " Patrick was getting pissed off now, this
old man was
a right old fart.
"Liar,
only the 65 stops here," the self- styled hero tightened his grip
on his
walking stick.
"Look ,
just mind your own business, " Patrick turned his back on the
man.
"So
you're a kerb crawler then, this area wasn't fit for woman to walk
until I
started the Neighbourhood Watch, " the old hero put his hand on
Patrick's
shoulder.
"Look
I'm a married man, my wife's just given birth," Patrick hissed.
"So
that's why you're kerb crawling, disgusting, you should be ashamed
of
yourself," the old hero still had his hand on Patrick's collar.
Patrick was
tempted to smack the old man in the mouth, Jaswinder's safety
was at stake
and the old fart was accusing him of being a kerb crawler.
The bus went
by for the fourth time, Patrick leapt on it, leaving the
old man
waving his stick at him. After two stops Patrick got off, then
using the
side streets he went back to check the phone box. The money had
gone.
Patrick went
back to his car, Amjit was waiting for him. They
both sighed,
they'd drawn a blank.
"I've
just checked the phone box, the money's gone," sighed Patrick.
"I
checked it too, there was an old man there, he asked me had I seen
you, that's
judging by the description," Amjit sucked his lip.
"The
daft bugger thought I was a kerb crawler, a kerb crawler with a bus
pass. Those
neighbourhood watch people should be trained, they're worst
than rooky
cops, God thinking that I was looking for a prostitute , "
Patrick
shook his head.
"Well I
was accused of being an industrial spy, the shopkeeper though I
had a
walkie-talkie and was sending the prices to somebody hidden in the
phone
box," said a still indignant Amjit.
"I bet
the old man is talking to that shopkeeper right now , " said
Patrick as
he headed off for the street.
And he was
right, the shopkeeper rewarded the Neighbourhood Watch
coordinator
for helping him foil industrial spying, the old soldier was
given a
bottle of equally old wine, both of them were well past their
sell by
date.
The pregnant
girl was also on her way home , her driver
played his
ZZ Top cassette at full blast, he was over the moon.
"See I
told you it'd be taking sweets from a baby, we have to celebrate
there's a
great Italian restaurant just up the road," Martin was like a
kid at
Christmas such was his joy.
"It's a
bit early yet, can't we go for a pint first?" asked Sue.
"Sure,
anything you like, then we're off to the Italia House in Three
Shires Oak
Rd, " Martin was beaming, almost as much as a mother holding
her new born
baby.
Hours later they
returned to find Jaswinder wet and hugging
her cushion,
her pretend teddy. As for Amjit and Patrick they had gone
back to the
street to break the bad news, their cover had been blown, they
hadn't been
able to spot the kidnapper. The whole street sighed, but they
were
helpless to do anything else . One piece of news did lift all their
spirit’s ,
Percy had gone to collect a body, Bill was with him : the
family of
the deceased decided to come with Percy to pray over the body
for a while,
so the hearse was being followed by three or four other
cars, it was
on the drive back that Bill spotted Jaswinder.
"Look,
it’s Jaswinder," yelled Bill.
Percy
swerved slightly such was his shock," are you sure?"
"Yes
I'm sure she's holding a man's hand, being dragged along almost ,
I'm sure
it’s her," Bill was excited.
There was a
set of traffic lights ahead, Percy slowed down.
"Look
I'll get out and follow, you cann't not with the deceased in the
back and his
whole family following, " without another word Bill slipped
out of the
car.
Percy
carried on back to his undertakers, he just hoped Bill wasn't
seeing
things, his eyesight wasn't as good as it used to be.
"I
followed at a distance for a few hundred yards, then a bus
came by, I
wasn't expecting him to jump on it, I tried to run after him
but my old
legs couldn't keep up with him. I tried to find a taxi, but
it was too
late by then, I'm sorry, " Bill was slumped in the chair by
Amjit's
counter.
"You
did your best," Amjit put a consoling hand on Bill's shoulder.
"And we
know Jaswinder is ok, " Percy was trying to sound upbeat , but
they all
felt like a mouse being teased by a cat, the odds were very much
against
them.
"So we
know he had a duffle coat, it’s not much but it’s a start," Amjit
sighed, a
duffle coat what a lead, if it could be called that.
Bill and
Percy went back to the undertakers to comfort the
grieving
relatives, Andy was minding the shop so to speak, but in death
people
prefer an older person, a more mature person. Patrick watched
Amjit, he
was like a lion tamer watching the cornered lion, when would
the lion
snarl or lash out, if only he knew which paw to take the thorn
out from
then the pain would go, all he could do was watch and wait with
his friend.
Every now and then Patrick would smile, he couldn't show how
sad he was,
he had to keep up the facade, he had to try and keep Amjit's
spirit’s
afloat, but was just being there any use, if he could actually
do something
then that'd be useful.
"Look
lets play dominoes, I've got a set in my house, my mother bought
them at a
jumble sale down the Blind Centre in Court Oak Road in
Harbourne,
it'll pass the time after all," Patrick knew cards were out
of the
question, because cards meant gambling and so on, so it'd be
alright to
play dominoes after all.
Amjit smiled
weakly, he felt he was being tickled, being tickled is nice
but when you
are sick or weak or tired, then it's like banging your
funny bone,
it hurts but it’s nice too. He shook his head for no but
somehow the
words came out,"yes."
Patrick
dashed over the road for his dominoes, in minutes the two of them
were
playing, old Mr Amjit came from the back room to see what was going
on, he
smiled only a child would think of dominoes, Patrick was wise.
"Don't
lose any money to him, " joked old Mr Amjit before retreating to
the back
room, he had to support the women that was his job , Patrick
would look
after his son and he would look after the women.
They played
for the rest of the evening, the dominoes for the blind have
raised dots
on them somehow for Patrick and Amjit these dots gave comfort
like the
touch of something familiar, just as for Mrs Murphy the feel of
her rosary
beads gave comfort even without the actual saying of the words.
At about ten
the shop door opened, Amjit had forgotten to lock up.
"Hello
, are you still open, can I have a bottle of milk? " said a
young voice.
Amjit and
Patrick looked up, a teenager dressed in denim dressed like a
Status Quo
fan stood looking at them. Only he wasn't looking, he was
blind.
Patrick dropped his dominoes, Amjit looked at the fallen dominoes
then back to
the youth.
"Sorry,
yes you can have some milk, we were playing dominoes, I forgot
to lock
up," Amjit rushed forward to serve the blind kid.
"Don't
rush I'm in no hurry, " the blind kid stood there smiling , so
young and he
seemed so happy, and he was blind.
"Here's
your milk," said Amjit putting the milk in the kid's hand.
"Here's
your money," answered the kid.
"Your
new around here," said Patrick by way of conversation.
"Yes,
I've just moved into the area, I was listening to my Status Quo
tapes, I
forgot the time," smiled the youth.
"So did
we, I'd forgotten how much fun dominoes are," said Amjit.
"They're
fun, though I prefer chess," smiled the blond haired youth.
"Why
don't you have a game of dominoes with us, if you're not in a hurry
my mother
got them from the Blind Centre, " Patrick felt he'd put his
foot in in
by saying the word "Blind", like saying "Mongol" instead of
"Downs
Syndrome", but his heart was in the right place, even if his
mouth
wasn't.
"Sure
why not, it'll be fun, besides it’s nice to meet new people , "
smiled the
blind kid, it seemed strange that he looked so happy , how
could he be,
he was blind.
So they
played dominoes for another hour, Amjit went in the back for
coffee and
samosas, they all really enjoyed themselves.
"Hey
man I'm sure you're cheating let me see your dominoes, " said the
smiling kid
feeling Patrick's dominoes.
"He's a
bit of a cheat that's for sure," smiled Amjit.
"You
can talk, just don't let him give you any Calcutta Surprise curry,
not
ever," explained Patrick.
Somehow
having somebody so happy with them cheered them up, here was a
blind beacon
sitting next to them. laughing and joking , eating and
drinking and
playing dominoes. As Mrs Murphy fingered her rosary beads
and almost
blackmailed the angels and saints, Amjit, Patrick and the
blond blind
kid fingered the dominoes, perhaps both equal prayers, equal
forms of
relief.
"Well I
think it’s time for bed then, " said the blind kid, feeling the
numbers on
his watch.
"I'll
walk you home, it was fun tonight, " said Patrick getting up and
stretching
himself.
"Come
tomorrow, say at nine," Amjit found himself saying.
"Sure,
but no more cheating, I want to wash those dominoes first I'm sure
you marked
them with chalk, it’s either that or you two can wear
blindfolds
!" joked the blond blind kid.
"Anything
you say," replied Amjit.
Amjit
watched Patrick and the blind kid leave, he felt better, he didn't
know why but
he felt better. He began to cry but not just for Jaswinder
but for the
blond kid, so young yet so happy, and he was blind. But why
did he seem
like a light to Amjit, like a night light for a child afraid
of the dark,
he didn't know, Amjit shook his head, he was so tired oh
so tired.
The next day
came, the phone didn't ring, no matter how much
they stared
at it. Martin the kidnapper and his girl Sue were having a
lie in ,
ringing for more ransom wasn't a priority , sleeping off a
hangover
was. As for Jaswinder she was locked in a cupboard with just a
cushion for
comfort, so she whispered encouragement to her pretend teddy
and blamed
it for her being wet. It was one P.M. before the phone rang,
Amjit dived
for the phone.
"Yes."
"It’s
me, you can afford more."
"Go
on."
"I want
£500, you can leave in Swans' Book Shop."
"Where
exactly."
"Behind
the Bibles," there was laughter in the voice.
"All
right then."
"Hurry,
I've spent your £300 already."
"I'll
be there."
"You
can talk to your daughter if you like, but no Wog talk."
"Ok."
"Daddy,
is the new baby a girl?"
"Yes,
" Amjit closed his eyes and breathed out, it was so good to hear
his
daughter's voice.
"Patrick
is here, he is afraid of the dark, I told him to be brave."
"Patrick?"
asked Amjit.
The phone
went dead, Amjit put the phone down gently as if he was placing
a baby in a
crib.
"Well?"
asked an anxious Patrick.
"He
wants £500 now, behind the Bibles in Swans' Book Shop , " Amjit
shrugged his
shoulders and shook his head, when would it all end.
Patrick
drove Amjit to the book shop, the £500 was placed
behind the
Bibles as requested. Patrick and Amjit then tried to lose
themselves
amongst the forest of books, perhaps this time they'd be able
to spot and
follow the kidnapper. Patrick casually picked up a book, he
dropped it
when he read the title, "Kidnapped", so he went to another
section, it
was the children’s section , he just hoped June and his own
baby were
safe.
Mrs Murphy
had decided that they shouldn't stay locked up in
the house,
they'd go to Mass, it'd help the Novena along, it was in it’s
third day
now. So picking up the phone she rang for Michael , in ten
minutes he
came , they all got in the taxi and headed for the church .
Behind the
taxi the Gavin Twins' lorry pulled out, they followed at a
distance,
the four evangelists were riding shotgun for the Murphy family.
Once they
got to the church Luke and John slipped into the church a minute
after Mrs
Murphy had led her family inside, the lads winked at Michael
who was
listening to Gordon Astley on his radio while he waited in his
taxi . Luke
knelt in one corner, John in the other, Mrs Murphy had
chosen a
bench in the centre next to a radiator, little Sheila had to be
kept warm
after all. It was early yet Fr. Shaw hadn't put the wine on the
altar yet ,
Mrs Murphy looked at her watch, not that early, what was
keeping the
old priest. An answer came running towards her. A large man
came running
out of the sacristy carrying a holdall, Fr. Shaw followed
him nursing
a bruised lip.
"Stop,
stop !" shouted the old priest.
Mathew
looked up to see the man running away from the priest, but towards
Mrs Murphy
and June and baby Sheila. Mathew did not know what to do, but
Fr. Shaw did
have a cut lip, Patrick's words came back to him "hit him
hard".
So Mathew got up and ran towards the man carrying a holdall, half
closing his
eyes Mathew swung both his fists, then he caught the man in a
bear hug and
squeezed and squeezed and squeezed.
"NO
!" screamed Mathew. The man's body went limp, Mathew dropped him to
the ground,
the man lay sprawled there. Luke and John emerged from the
shadows.
"He was
going to hurt June and the baby," Mathew said defensively.
"You
did right, son, he's just a thief, look at the holdall, " Mrs
Murphy
pointed.
"He
must be the one who's been robbing all the churches, " added Fr. Shaw
dabbing his
lip with his handkerchief.
"It's a
good job Mathew was here, " said June holding her baby close to
her.
"Do we
call the Police?" asked Fr. Shaw.
"No,
we'll take him to the hospital, we'll have a word with him too on
the
way," butted in Luke.
"If you
are sure?" Fr. Shaw wasn't quite sure himself.
So Luke and
John went in Michael's taxi to the hospital while
Mark and
Mathew Gavin went inside the church for the Mass, Luke promised
that they'd
be back before the Mass was over. He wasn't the only one who
made a few
promises, the burglar was persuaded to give up robbing
churches ,
or they would report him to the Police. As for Patrick and
Amjit they
had been browsing in the bookshop, only everywhere Patrick
looked a
children’s book or a book about kidnapping seemed to leap out at
him, it made
him shiver.
Amjit felt
just as bad, worse even, waiting for his own
child's
kidnapper. A little old lady accosted him, could he help her
find an
atlas, her grandson was in Bogota on a language course , she
wanted to
see where it was. The atlas was on a top shelf, so Amjit had
to reach on
tip t£ for it, then he had to look for Bogota, he knew it
was in South
America, but where exactly.
An eager
sales assistant encouraged Patrick to buy some
children’s
book, so he bought Picture books for Sheila and books with a
few words in
them for Jaswinder. So it was while Patrick and Amjit were
all tied up
that a man in a duffle coat came in, it was Martin, he felt
behind the
Bibles and found his money. With a spring in his step and a
smile on his
lips he was gone. Amjit peered through the shelves to steal a
look at the
Bibles, they'd been scattered, the money had been taken .
Amjit rushed
to the Bibles, Patrick was at his heels, the money was gone,
The Good
News Bible was open at Revelations. Amjit swore , Patrick
swore too, a
nun tut tuted. Still cursing under their breath they left
the book
shop, the shocked nun had picked up The Good News Bible and was
smiling now.
"I
think we need more people to help us observe, " said Patrick as he
started the
engine.
"You're
right, but not Big Sid he'd stand out too much, " Amjit was
looking down
at his shoes, where his spirit’s were.
"Ok,
we'll get George and Brownie to help, nobody would suspect a pair
of
pensioners after all, " Patrick sighed, it was like being teased all
this kidnap
stuff, like being teased when you didn't want to be.
"There's
a pub over there," Amjit sounded faint.
"Ok,
we'll have a couple, then we'll get back to the street, it'll be ok
Amjit ,
it'll be ok, besides if I know my mom she's blackmailing the
saints,"
Patrick laughed, he'd give anything to cheer Amjit up.
So they
stopped at the Duke of Edinburgh for a pint, just as they went
in the front
door Martin came out the back way through the yard , he'd
bought some
drugs, he wanted to celebrate The Good News after all.
Back at the
flat Martin held up a wad of notes in one hand and
the drugs in
the other. He was pleased with himself, he'd found his
true
vocation, and it didn't involve any work, the perfect job for him.
"What's
to eat?" asked a triumphant Martin.
"I
thought we'd eat out, to celebrate like," said Sue in between puffs
of her fag.
"Fine
by me," Martin had already opened the door ready to go again.
"I'll
have to feed her first," Sue pointed to the cupboard.
"She
can do without, we are not running a restaurant after all, " said
Martin
haughtily.
So they went
out, Jaswinder was left in the dark with just a
cushion, a
pretend teddy for comfort, only the water, her water seeping
under the
door gave proof of her existence. Percy had gone out for a
plush dinner
with members of his Lodge, he didn't feel like going but he
went. It was
while he was in the restaurant that there was a disturbance
at the door.
A scruffy man in a duffle coat had tried to come in, when
he was told
the restaurant was booked for a private celebration he'd
produced a
wad of money to prove he could pay. But still the scruffy man
in the
duffle coat was not let in, nor was his very pregnant girl . So
Martin and
Sue went to the Italia House in Three Shires Oak Rd instead ,
Martin
pretended he wanted to go there anyway.
"I
showed him the money, only the sod in the penguin suit wouldn't let me
in,"
sulked Martin.
"Some
people are so prejudiced," sympathised Sue.
Martin
splashed out that evening in the Italia House, as if proving his
own worth to
himself, a sure sign of his inadequacy. He left the car
parked where
it was, it didn't matter if it blocked St. Gregory's, besides
Martin
wanted to splash out with a taxi.
"Madame,
your carriage awaits," burped Martin bowing low.
"Ta
love," answered Sue as she squeezed her bulge into the taxi.
Jaswinder
was crying when they got in, she was sitting in a
pool of
water, her own. Martin threw a towel at her, Sue gave her a
bottle of
milk, then the door was locked on her dungeon. As for Amjit
and Patrick
they'd told everybody what had happened, the whole street
seemed to be
suffering from a collective hangover, only there had been no
celebration
beforehand.
At nine
Barry the blind kid arrived with a tap to the left and
a tap to the
right as he tapped his way into the shop and made his way to
the counter.
"I'm
going to beat you cheats tonight," smiled Barry.
Patrick
stole a glance at Amjit, Patrick decided to try and lift Amjit's
spirit’s.
"Ok,
I'll go and fetch some water, you can wash the dominoes yourself,
how d£s that
sound?" Patrick was trying to sound jolly, he realised he
was behaving
just like his mother did, it made him smile more.
So the
dominoes were washed and the game began, Barry was really
pleased to
have found some new friends. Amjit went and fetched some
samosas and
a pot of coffee, Old Mr Amjit looked on from the back, the
smiling face
of Barry so happy, like a dawn after the dark of the
winter's
night. Even though Amjit and family were in the dark , not
knowing,
just waiting, playing dominoes seemed such a relief, it was
hard to
explain, even harder to understand but laughing and arguing over
dominoes was
so much better than brooding on Jaswinder.
"Hey,
are you sure you didn't switch these dominoes for another set, I
still think
you're cheating," said Barry looking straight at Patrick.
"Honest,"
said Patrick with a smile.
"Alright
then, I'll believe you," beamed Barry.
So on they
played, it was midnight before they stopped, it was like
having a
favourite uncle visit you enjoyed his company you never want him
to leave, so
you carry on, just one more game just one more game.
"Well
I'll have to go now," said Barry snapping shut his watch.
"I've
enjoyed our game tonight, come again tomorrow, as early as you
like,"
Amjit found himself saying.
The shadows
were creeping in on him, the warmth , the innocence of
Barry's
face, the smile somehow they warmed Amjit, as Barry left Amjit
felt guilty
was it wrong to be playing games while his daughter was in
danger.
Amjit's dad put his hand on his son's shoulder, it was good to
play
dominoes, it made him strong again, and he had to be strong for
Jaswinder.
Patrick walked Barry home.
"There's
no need really, I've memorised the route now, I know how many
turns to the
left and turns to the right it is," explained Barry.
"No
you're ok, I need a breath of fresh air, it'll blow the cobwebs away
and it'll be
good exercise," sighed Patrick.
"You're
a good friend to Amjit aren't you, that's why you're letting him
lean on
you," Barry said it so matter of factly.
"What
what do you mean," stammered Patrick.
"It's
hard to spot at first, if I could see perhaps I wouldn't notice ,
but you are
being supportive of him. It's in your voice, it’s in his
voice, every
word is almost a sigh, well not quite every word but it is
noticeable,"
continued Barry.
Patrick
stopped dead in his tracks, Barry carried on, a tap to the left
a tap to the
right. Patrick regained his composure and caught up with
Barry.
"So I'm
right then, stopping was a dead give- away you know. It's ok I
won't
intrude, it’s none of my business, at least you won't be asking
me what I'm
staring at," joked Barry.
"Sorry,
well but, well," Patrick was lost for words.
"It's
ok, I like you two, even if you are cheats at dominoes . I'll
explain it
for you, you're dying to know how I know. I wasn't always
blind and
one thing I noticed when I could see was that if you have the
radio on and
hear the news it sounds loud and clear, but on the television
the same
words aren't as loud or clear, the pictures, your sight gets in
the way of
the words, the sound. It’s almost as if on the radio the
volume is
much higher, and on the television the volume seems lower but
the volume
of the pictures is higher, " Barry paused like a teacher
waiting for
the penny to drop for the children.
"I'll have
to try that, listen to the radio and then the same thing on the
tv, it'll be
really strange if you are right," pondered Patrick.
"I am
right, anyway so after the accident, I noticed another thing ,
well after I
stopped bumping into things that is. I noticed that I had my
radio ears
on all the time, things seemed louder or rather I noticed
sound more,
because I didn't have any sight to get in the way anymore.
Which means
I can tell that you are jollying Amjit along, and that you
two like me
too," Barry smiled.
"Even
if we do cheat at dominoes," mumbled Patrick.
"Yes,
we're here now, I'd invite you in for a coffee only there's no
light bulbs
in the flat, I mean what would I need them for , " Barry
chuckled.
"And
you don't want me stumbling around like a blind man," said Patrick.
"You
got it in one, anyway I'll see you tomorrow at Amjit's, don't worry
I won't let
on that I know, I'm just glad to have made two friends who
don't treat
me like a child just because I can't see," so with a tap to
the left and
a tap to the right Barry went inside.
Patrick
shook his head, the poor kid, it must be even worse if you could
see and then
you were in the dark permanently. Patrick rubbed his arms it
was getting
cold, he hurried back home and to bed.
The phone
refused to ring no matter how hard or long Amjit
stared at
it, Patrick though of one of his mother's many sayings , the
one about
the watched kettle never boiling. Finally in the afternoon the
phone rang,
Amjit had the receiver to his ear before the third ring.
"Yes,"
he said.
"It's
me."
"How
much."
"£800,
we have to buy some clothes for your little wog daughter, she wet
herself."
"I'll
have to go to the bank, I don't keep that sort of money in the shop
it would be
dangerous."
"It
might be even more dangerous if you don't hurry up, you have an hour
or I want an
extra £200," Martin loved being in control.
"Ok,
ok, I'll have your £800 for you within the hour," Amjit tried to
keep his
calm.
"Leave
it in a plastic bag in the tank of the third toilet along near the
door in the
toilets in Clemford High Street, make sure the money doesn't
get
wet," Martin ordered.
"Aren't
those they the," blurted out Amjit.
"Yes
the gay ones," interrupted Martin with laughter in his voice.
"Can I
speak to my daughter?" Amjit almost begged.
"No,
she's having a bath, she stinks," Martin hung up.
Amjit hung
up the phone,and took a deep breath before turning to Patrick
to say,
"he wants £800 or £1000 if I don't hurry, we've got to leave it
in the
toilets, in the tank, the toilets in Clemford High Street."
"But
those are the queer ones," Patrick couldn't understand.
"Ok,
I'll get George and Brownie," Patrick raced out the door.
"Fine,
I'll tell Balbinder and get my bank book," said Amjit as went in
the back.
In Mark's
Percy was telling George and Brownie about the
previous
nights events at the restaurant.
"So you
see this scruffy man in a duffle coat tried to get in with his
very
pregnant girlfriend, when he was told the place was full up he waved
a wad of
notes at the head waiter," Percy paused when Patrick came in.
"Come
on quick, George and Browie we need your help," Patrick held the
door open
for them .
"Can we
help?" asked Percy.
"These
two should be enough, nobody would suspect these two. We just
want to
follow the little bugger, he's a slippery customer. He won't get
away this
time, it’s a public toilet, so there is only one way in and one
way out,
we'll get him this time," with that Patrick was gone.
Patrick
drove first to the bank, then he headed for Clemford
High Street.
"As
Patrick said, it’s a public toilet, the one in Clemford High Street,
so we should
be able to catch him, to follow him, there's only one way
in and one
way out," Amjit smiled at George and Brownie .
"But
aren't those the queer ones, I don't want my George catching AIDS or
something,"
said a concerned Brownie.
"It’s
ok, I'd do it for Jaswinder, I've had a good life, we'll catch
this man and
free Jaswinder, my life is on the last chapter anyway , "
said George
trying to sound brave.
"You
won't catch AIDS, George, though the stench might make you throw up
or want to,
" explained Patrick, " Amjit will be in one cubicle you'll
be in
another, when he takes the money you follow him, I'll follow in
the car, you
follow on foot or catch a bus, whatever is needed , "
Patrick
finished, he hoped it would be as easy as he'd just explained.
"What
about me?" wondered Brownie.
"You
stand outside, as if you are waiting for your husband to come out,
which is
exactly what you're doing. Nobody will suspect you."
George and
Brownnie were content, they knew their parts now , Brownie
decided to
tell Percy's gossip, it was better than staying silent.
"Did we
tell you what happened to Percy yesterday," began Brownie.
"What?"
asked Amjit.
"Well a
young man tried to get into this swanky restaurant Percy was in ,
only it was
full up, the man began to shout and say he was as good as
them, he
waved a wad of money in the air. He said he had £500 in cash to
pay,"
explained Brownie.
Patrick
braked suddenly.
"What
did he look like," asked Amjit sparks flying from his eyes.
Brownie
looked at George, she'd sruck a raw nerve.
"Well
Percy said he was scruffy in a duffle coat, a very pregnant girl
was with
him," said George slowly.
"It
could be a coincidence," said Amjit turning to Patrick.
"Or it
could be the BASTARD we are after," Patrick put his foot down to
the floor.
"WE
know our enemy now," said Amjit turning to George and Brownie.
At the
toilets Amjit placed the money in the water tank of the
third one
along, then he hid in one cubicle while George hid in another.
All they had
to do was wait, as soon as the bait was taken they could
catch the
man, it was simple. George wanted to be sick, a mixture of
nervous
tension plus the stench of the public toilets. A man came in he
went into
the third cubicle alone, a minute or two later so did another
man. George
was sick, he seen a lot in the army during the war , but
this was too
much. A few minutes later all was silence.
"Are
you alright George," hissed Amjit.
"Sorry
, but I was sick I've never dreamp of such things , " mumbled
George.
"Sush,
there'd somebody coming," whispered Amjit.
George was
sick again, but at least, well. Amjit listened to the
footsteps
going one way then another, finally they went into a cubicle. A
few more
people came in to use the toilets, what about the man, had he
gone into
the third cubicle along, Amjit couldn't tell what with the
noise of
flushings and George being sick again. At least George had a
perfect
cover, an old man being sick, and he wasn't pretending. All was
silent
again, Amjit didn't couldn't tell if the money had been taken or
not, he'd
have to check.
"Are
you ok, George?" hissed Amjit.
"I'm
fine now, it’s just a bit much, it was unheard of in my day, has he
been?"
asked George as he wiped his mouth with his handkerchief.
"I'll
look," whispered Amjit as he sneaked out of the cubicle.
The third
cubicle along from the door was in use, Amjit couldn't hear
anybody
inside though, so he knocked on the door. There was no answer,
so Amjit
pushed, it was locked. Amjit kicked at the door, the door
opened, the
tank cover had been moved. The money had gone.
"Shit,"
swore Amjit.
That cubicle
had a window at the back, Amjit stood on the toilet and
climbed up
and out. Outside he followed a trail of water, then just by a
high wall he
found the soaking carrier bag. The carrier was empty, the
money was
gone, so was the kidnapper. Amjit looked about which way
should he
run. He looked up, the top of the wall was wet, Amjit pulled
himself up,
he was looking at a railway line. Long abandoned by the
trains it
was now a nature trail, only the trail had gone dead as far as
Amjit was
concerned. So getting down from the wall, he picked up the
still wet
carrier and went back to the car.
George and
Brownie were mulling over events when Amjit arrived.
"He
squeezed out the window alright, he's gone along the old railway line
we've missed
him again," explained Amjit.
"But
what about the other man in the duffle coat?" asked Brownie.
"What
do you mean," asked a slightly confused Amjit.
"A man
went in with a duffle coat, I blew my nose as a signal for Patrick
when he came
out the toilets Patrick followed him on foot, " explained
Brownie.
"Well
it cann't of been him then," sighed Amjit.
Amjit felt
so tired, confused: Patrick returned he was all downcaste.
"He's
not our man, I followed him to a building site, I got a look at
his face,
he's worked with the Gavin brothers before, so it cann't be
him,"
explained Patrick.
"He's
not the one, the kidnapper is a sly sod, he squeezed out the back
window above
the toilets. But we do know he d£s wear a duffle coat and
I think it’s
a safe bet that the pregnant girl is his girlfriend," said
Amjit as he
kicked an old cola can.
"He's
cocky too trying to spend the money in flash restaurants, " added
Brownie.
Back on the
street George and Brownie spread the word ,
everybody
cursed, they were up against a slippery customer that was for
sure . Amjit
and Patrick decided that they'd need more people to follow
the man in
the duffle coat, so they asked everybody to stand by, at the
drop of a hat
or rather a ring of the phone from the kidnapper they all
had to be
ready to follow. Amjit felt almost embarrassed to ask, he just
felt so
tired, so very tired. With brave words of encouragement in his
ears Amjit
went back to his shop.
Later on
Barry arrived, with a tap to the left and a tap to the
right , his
blond hair and shining smiling face again resembling Autumn
sunshine
pushing the grey clouds away. While Barry shuffled the dominoes
Amjit went
for the coffee and samosas, Patrick squeezed Barry's arm and
Whispered
"thanks".
"These
are great samosas, where do you buy them from?" asked Barry.
"My
wife makes them," answered Amjit.
"I've
not met her yet, is she looking after the children? " wondered
Barry as he
sipped his coffee.
Amjit's lip
quivered, a tear slipped down his face, he gulped before he
answered,"
yes."
Patrick
looked into Barry's unseeing eyes, thank God he was blind, then
Patrick
closed his eyes, Jesus what was he thinking, thank God he was
blind,
Patrick sipped his coffee. Amjit and Patrick exchanged glances,
they had
both thought the same thing, thank God Barry was blind.
"Here
have another samosa," Patrick said hurriedly as if Barry knew what
he'd
thought.
"Thanks,
but no amount of bribery will stop me thinking you two are
cheating,
have you got a mirror behind me so you can read my dominoes ,
come on be
honest," asked Barry.
"No we
haven't," laughed Patrick.
"Do you
want me to put a mirror behind me, so you can cheat," Amjit had
said the
words but regretted them immediately.
He closed his
eyes, and then hesitated slightly before saying , "I
shouldn't
have said that, I'm sorry."
"I know
you shouldn't have said it, it’s a great idea, hey Patrick put
a mirror
behind Amjit so I can cheat," Barry began to laugh.
So finding a
makeup set on the shelves, Patrick positioned the mirror
behind
Amjit, so that Barry could cheat.
"Can
you move it another inch to the left, " said Barry motioning with
his hand.
"Is
that ok?" asked Patrick.
"Fine,
perfect, I'll win tonight," answered Barry giving a thumbs up.
So on they
played, Barry winning the majority of the games ,
aided by the
makeup mirror positioned behind Amjit. Every now and then
Barry would
make a show of looking in the mirror, then with relish he'd
slap down
his dominoes. It could have come straight out of Laurel and
Hardy, only
it was happening in a Black Country shop, yet it was just
what the
doctor ordered. Barry was laughing at his weakness , his
disability,
laughter made him strong, and it made Amjit strong too.
When the
game was over Patrick walked Barry home again, at the gate going
into Barry's
flat Patrick shook his hand.
"It’s
nice to feel useful, you get to feel that your whole life is on the
scrapheap
when you are blind, or deaf, or any of those things which stop
you being
NORMAL, " Barry was looking Patrick straight in the eye ,
though he'd
never see Patrick's face.
"I
can't explain, we never will be able to, just thanks, thats all,
even if I
could explain I wouldn't have the words, " mumbled, stumbled
Patrick.
"It's
ok, Amjit was crying though, so it must be something serious, I
won't pry,
it’s the dominoes and the company I'm interested in , well
goodnight
then as I said I won't invite you in."
"Because
I'd only bump into the furniture, as you don't have any light
bulbs,
cheerio."
Patrick
walked home, he liked Barry , he was no hostage to fate , he
came out
fighting and laughing, every time the bell rung.
The phone
didn't ring, not in the morning , not in the
afternoon,
not till six in the evening, then it rang.
"It's
me, I want £1400 this time."
"But
the banks are shut, can't it wait till tomorrow, " Amjit cursed
himself for
what he'd just said.
"Listen
to this."
Amjit heard
a loud slap, then he heard his daughter , his Jaswinder
crying.
"Ok,
ok, I wasn't thinking"
"You
have fourty minutes, leave it on the 38 bus get on three stops after
the
terminus, leave the money on the ledge at the back of the bus , on
the right
hand side."
"At the
very back, on the 38 bus," repeated Amjit.
"Thats
it bye, will you stop crying you little wog bitch, " the phone
went dead.
Amjit closed
his eyes, then took a deep breath before hanging up the
phone,
slowly he turned to Patrick.
"He hit
her , he made her cry. I'm worried Patrick , " Amjit was
quivering.
"Come
on Amjit, the whole street's on our side. How much and where?"
Patrick
shook Amjit.
"£1400,
on the 38 bus, in forty minutes time " Amjit said in between
deep
breaths.
"Ok,
you stay there I'll round everybody up, it'll be ok Amjit, it'll
be ok,"
with that Patrick dashed out the shop.
He went straight
to Smiling Paul's, catching his breath he blurted it all
out,"Quick
we need money, we've only got fourty minutes."
Smiling Paul
leapt to his safe and started throwing out bundles of hundreds
to Patrick.
"That's
enough, see you," Patrick said as he ran out.
"Can I
help anymore, " Smiling Paul was almost pleading, but Patrick
didn't hear
him.
"I love
her too you know, she's my Indian Princess too," he mumbled.
"Each
will help to his ability, though it may not always be recognised,
you are a
good man ,I know it," Catherine put her hand on his shoulder.
Patrick ran
up and down the street like a madman , everybody
gathered
inside Amjit's shop.
"Look
we have to leave the money on the 38 bus at the back on the ledge ,
so if we all
follow him we'll see him take the money , " explained
Patrick.
"I
think we should take turns at being in the lead, so as not to arouse
suspicion ,
one car follows right behind the bus for two stops then it
drops back
so another car can follow right behind and so on , " urged
Percy, he
knew caution was everything.
"Right
we'll do that, when he gets off the bus we'll carry on following
him in the
same way," agreed Patrick.
"We
know he wears a duffle coat and he has a very pregnant girlfriend, so
he should be
easy to spot," added Amjit.
So they all
set off, Percy in his hearse, Andy in a white
Rolls ,
Michael in his taxi and Patrick in the lead in his old VW . On
their way
across town Michael spotted George and Brownie at a bus stop ,
so he slowed
and picked them up.
"No
time to explain, I just want you to get on the 38 bus, the kidnapper
wants his
money left there," said Michael as he sped off.
"And
you want us to watch him," said Brownie.
"That's
it , we'll get the bastard this time, " said Michael as he
signalled
and put his foot to the floor.
Michael soon
caught up and overtook all the cars, it was not part of the
plan but
it'd improve on it, all he had to do was put George and Brownie
on the bus.
At the
terminus George and Brownie waited for the 38 bus ,
Amjit
arrived, they ignored him. The three all got on, Amjit placed the
money at the
back on the ledge, then got off after one stop . George
winked but
otherwise as far as he was concerned Amjit didn't exist .
People got
on the bus, people got off the bus, but no sign of the man in
the duffle
coat. Behind the hearse and the Rolls exchanged positions ,
but still no
sign of the kidnapper. After ten stops he got on, he sat in
the middle
for a while then calmly got up and went and sat at the back on
the right.
Brownie squeezed George's leg, the kidnapper was right behind
them.
"That's
the bastard, right there, see he's flicking at the bundle, it’s
him for
sure," said Patrick spitting out the words.
Michael took
the lead and Patrick's VW dropped back, flashing his brake
lights as a
signal to the others, the mouse had taken the cheese , now
all they had
to do was spring the trap. They'd follow him, get Jaswinder
back and
perhaps have some revenge, the waiting was over at last. Percy
took the
lead, a police car came sailing by, Sgt. Mulholland was driving
he was too
busy to acknowledge Percy. There were more police cars coming,
their blue
lights flashing, Percy slowed, Andy took the lead.
"Shit,
shit, shit," swore Andy.
The bus had
stopped in all the traffic ahead, the kidnapper opened
the fire exit
on the back at the right of the bus, he ran into all the
crowds, the
crowds of football supporters.
"The
bastard, he knew the Cup Tie was on tonight, we'll never catch him
in all the
crowds," Andy slowed and parked.
And so he
had, the 38 bus goes right past the ground , Martin had
disappeared
like a rabbit down a hole. Patrick saw the rabbit escape, he
wanted to
leap out of his car and give chase, but a police car was right
beside him,
so all he could do was curse, the policeman smiled at him he
was used to
crowds after all. George and Brownie got off the bus at the
next stop,
Michael picked them up and drove them back to the street.
"Well
thanks for your help, we'll just have to try harder ,
we'll get
him, he's too cocky he's bound to slip up, " said Patrick
trying to
sound upbeat.
"Don't
worry tomorrow is another day," consoled Percy.
Amjit and
Patrick waited for Barry to turn up, but he didn't, he'd got a
chance to go
to the Cup Tie. So while Amjit and Patrick played dominoes
Barry was
savouring the atmosphere of the Cup Tie, tomorrow was another
day,
tomorrow was another day.
Chapter
Twelve A Mother's Tears
*********************************
The next day
dawned bright and cheerful with the morning breeze
seeming to
play catch with the clouds moving them across the blue sky ,
the sun was
smiling too stretching itself over the horizon , soon it'd
chase the
night away. One last corner of darkness seemed to put it’s
tongue out
at the rising sun before running away from the growing light ,
for a last
time the dark put its tongue out at the sun, it was running
away now but
come night time it'd return.
On the
street the shops all began to open, a kind of yawning
a kind of
stretching motion, as if they all wanted to stay in the warmth
of the bed.
But the day had to be faced, the clock couldn't be turned
back, life
had to go on. Each time they had tried to catch or observe
the
kidnapper they'd been out manoeuvred, if only they could stay curled
up in bed,
if only they'd wake up and find it had just been a bad dream.
Only this
nightmare went on.
Patrick's
mother rang early before Patrick had even put the
kettle on.
"How's
Balbinder and Amjit? " asked Mrs Murphy, still fingering her
beads.
"They
are coping, only the kidnapper gave us the slip."
"Again."
"How
did you know?"
"Frank
came and told me, he loves little Sheila too."
"Who?"
"Sheila,
your daughter !"
"Sorry,
I'm not with it this morning."
"Don't
worry Patrick, the Novena never fails."
"Thanks
mom, I better go now."
"Patrick
don't be afraid, everything will be ok, trust your old mom."
"Bye
mom."
Mrs Murphy
hung up the phone, she'd said a decade of the
rosary while
talking to her son, she'd have time to said another full
rosary
before she got the breakfasts ready. She just hoped St. Anthony
would hurry
up, ah well, there was always Mother Theresa, she knew she
loved
children.
Patrick left
his coffee cup in the sink with the pile of other
cups, he
hadn't got the energy to do any washing up these past few days.
So giving
hairy Amjit a tin of food Patrick crossed the road to begin his
day's vigil
with Amjit. George and Brownie were already there, Brownie
spitting in
the face of fear.
"Hello
, well the weather looks nice, " began Patrick trying to sound
happy.
"It's
nice enough for a picnic," said George taking up the theme.
"Yes,
normally we go for an adventure when it’s as fine as this," added
Brownie.
"How do
you mean? " said Patrick stoking the conversation, he knew any
talk was
better than silence, silence was dark and cold, and gave you a
chance to
think the worse of Jaswinder's situation .
"Well,
we jump on one bus, then get off and jump on another, then get
off and jump
on a third one," began George.
"We've
got to know the Black Country and Birmingham quite well by doing it
we even have
discovered a few nice little parks and cafes, " interrupted
Brownie
warming to the conversation, it almost felt like normal, but for
Amjit's weak
smile.
"That's
good, it’s nice to get out, my mom does the same thing only with
her it’s the
churches she roots out," Patrick smiled at the thought.
"Why
don't you do it today, it’s a nice day, you should get out, feel
the sunshine
on your faces," encouraged Amjit.
"But we
couldn't, well we didn't mean to say that," began Brownie.
Amjit put
his hand on her arm, he motioned to the door, "just go out for
a run, it'll
blow the cobwebs away."
"Are
you sure you don't need us," George felt guilty, as if he'd fallen
asleep on
guard duty.
"Hey,
go, or do I have to throw you out, here have a bunch of bananas
too,"
Amjit then held the door open for them.
Brownie
nodded to Patrick, then gave Amjit a motherly peck on the cheek.
"I hope
he didn't think we don't care about Jaswinder , she's
our Indian
Princess too," said Brownie as they got on the first bus.
"It's
ok , besides once the cobwebs are blown away then we'll be more
useful to
them. Even a soldier has to have rest and recreation , "
replied
George.
After
playing leap frog with the buses George and Brownie came to
O'Toole Park
, it wasn't really a park just an area of boggy land not
worth the expense
of draining. Old houses had been knocked down, their
back gardens
had been incorporated into the park, including the trees
which used
to be in the back gardens of the houses, nearby new houses had
been built.
With a pathway added and a few benches a new park had been
formed , The
O'Toole Park, named after a former councillor , the
councillor
had subsequently been found guilt of accepting bribes, but the
park still
bore his name, everything couldn't be renamed after all ,
that's left
for Historians and Journalists to do . So finding their
favourite
bench they sat down, sighing, not talking for half an hour.
"Here
have a banana," said Brownie proffering one to George.
"If
only I was a younger man, I'd be scouring the streets, and when I
caught the
little bastard who took Jaswinder I'd give him what for , "
said George
in between bites of the banana.
"Don't
upset yourself we've done our bit, " said Brownie before handing
George
another banana.
"I feel
so useless, it was like this during the war, I couldn't wait to
give Hitler
and the Nazis what for," George was snapping at the banana.
"Be
careful or you'll break your false teeth, you know there's a crack in
them
already," Brownie squeezed George's knee.
"Cheer
up , Jaswinder must be alive, otherwise he wouldn't carry on
asking for
money," Brownie unpeeled another banana for herself.
"I hope
you're right, she could be dead, " George was staring at a
puddle.
Brownie
turned to look George in the eye, " but you don't mean he'd kill
her then
carry on asking for money?"
"I hope
I'm wrong, but we can't be sure, if only we could see her ,
then it'd be
some relief, " George took his teeth out and began to suck
the banana
from them.
"The
evil bastard, if I catch him, I'll kill him myself, " Brownie
pulled her collar
up, she felt cold.
At the other
side of the park, a happy family was enjoying a
stroll in
the sunshine, a man, a woman and their daughter. The daughter
was
skipping, she seemed to be enjoying herself. George put his teeth
back in and
burped, bananas always made him burp.
"It's
nice to see people enjoy themself, make the most of the sunshine,
that's what
I say."
Brownie was
looking at the couple too, " her baby must be due very soon
judging by
her size."
"I
hadn't noticed, oh you are right now that we can see her sideways on,
their
daughter is a lover too, what with her pigtails bouncing in the
wind, she's
got a nice smile too, " George was screwing up his eyes to
see better,
it was hard to see as the sun was in his eyes.
Brownie did
not answer , she was looking at the couple's daughter, the
skipping
daughter with the pigtails.
"Yes,
look at her skip, she's so happy, it’s nice to see happy children
, it’s
cheers me up," George looked at Brownie.
"She's
an Indian, and her parents are white, " Brownie wanted to say
more.
"Oh, I
think you are right, perhaps she's a friends child and they are
baby
sitting, do you want this last banana, it’s a shame to waste it."
"She
looks familiar," Brownie began to stand.
"Yes
you may be right, these bananas are very good," mumbled George.
Brownie was
on her feet now, "It’s Jaswinder !"
"Don't
upset yourself, she does look a bit like her, but they are far
away, here
I've saved you a bit of banana, " George held out the last
portion of
banana.
Brownie
knocked the banana from his hand," I tell you it is her !"
George
looked at the girl covering his eyes with his hand, " I'm not too
sure."
"It's
her I tell you," Brownie sounded excited.
"They
are coming this way we'll soon see," George sounded apprehensive.
"It’s
her, I'm certain," Brownie was defiant.
"Look
sit down," George pulled at Brownie's elbow.
Together
they watched as the couple came nearer, and nearer, and nearer.
"You're
right !" George sounded relieved, Jaswinder was alive !
"What
are we going to do?" Brownie sounded worried now.
"We
could grab her and make a run for it, " George sounded just like the
old soldier
he was.
"No ,
we're too old, we'll follow just like Patrick and Amjit do , "
caution
Brownie.
"What
if Jaswinder recognises us, we could put her in danger, " George
was worried
now, were they putting Jaswinder's life in danger.
"It's
too late to make a run for it, quick kiss me ."
"What?"
George was amazed.
He was even
more amazed when without further ado Brownie lunged for him ,
she kissed
him as if he was the first man she'd ever loved, ever kissed,
she kissed
him just as Maureen O'Hara had kissed John Wayne in The Quiet
Man the
night before on telly. Jaswinder came skipping by, the couple
followed,
they laughed when they saw George and Brownie kissing.
"Do you
think we'll be like that at their age, Martin?"
"I hope
so Sue, I hope so Sue."
Brownie
kissed George for all she worth till the couple had gone out of
earshot.
"I told
you it was her," Brownie was triumphant.
"It's
her , she's alive, " George mumbled , still recovering form
Brownie's
battering.
"Come
on, we'll follow them, " George leap up from the seat, only to
slip on the
banana skin Brownie had knocked from his hand.
"Sorry
I kissed you, only I had to do something, otherwise they'd see
our
faces," Brownie blushed slightly.
"Just
warn me next time," replied George beginning to blush.
They tried
the best they could to keep up, but they were old, even a
heavily
pregnant woman could walk faster than them. Martin and Sue with
the skipping
Jaswinder were getting further and further away.
"Go
ahead George, my veins are slowing down, just go ahead, " urged
Brownie and
she slumped down on a bench.
So George
hurried after the kidnappers, he made up some of the distance,
but though
no longer slowed by Brownie's varicose veins he still had no
hope of
catching up, he was too old, too old to go racing after people
almost fifty
years younger than him. Huffing and puffing George could
hear the
squeal of tyres and the smoke from the exhaust, he'd lost them.
George was still
cursing when Brownie came up behind him, she took his
hand and
squeezed it.
"At
least we know she's alive and skipping, it’s a great relief after
all,"
Brownie knew she had to cheer her George up.
"I just
feel so useless, I'm old and useless now, a few years ago I
could walk,
I used to be a good walker, now I'm good for nothing , "
George
kicked at an old cola can.
"No
you’re not , we did our bit, come let’s get back to the street ,
Balbinder
will be pleased to know Jaswinder is ok, " Brownie kissed her
George
again, just as she had on the park bench, he was good enough for
her, all she
had to do was make him believe in himself again.
So the pair
left the O'Toole park, if they caught a bus
straight
into town and caught another back out again they'd be on the
street
within an hour. They arrived at the bus stop just as the bus
arrived,
their luck was in, only it wasn't after two stops the bus broke
down. George
held the rail on the seat in front, he squeezed it hard,
he wanted to
scream.
"Let's
get off, there's a taxi place half a mile up the road, " urged
Brownie ,
they couldn't just sit there the sooner they got back to the
street the
sooner Balbinder would know her child was alive.
So they got
off and started to walk the half mile to the taxi place , it
was all
uphill and at their age it was as if they were walking in thick
snow. Behind
them the passengers had got off the bus, all cursing their
luck. George
glanced back at the passengers, then out of the corner of
his eye he
saw something.
"Quick
take your scarf off and wave it," commanded George.
As quick as
a flash Brownie did as she was told , Percy slowed and
stopped.
"I'd
ever thought I'd be glad to see a hearse," began George.
"Quick
take us home, we've seen Jaswinder, she's alive and skipping ,"
gushed
Brownie.
"Thank
God, I hope you'll excuse my passenger, " Percy motioned to the
coffin in
the back.
With that
Percy was off, his tires squealing, the passengers from the
bus were
left to scratch their heads, a funny kind of taxi a hearse.
On the way
Brownie explained how they'd ended up at O'Toole park
only to find
Jaswinder skipping towards them. Percy left George and
Brownie out
at Amjit's store, he had to attend to the corpse . Brownie
bounced
through Amjit's shop's door a spring in her step, she was about
to blurt out
the news when she saw some customers. For what seemed a
lifetime she
held her tongue, when the customers had gone, the damn
burst.
"We've
seen Jaswwinder, she's alive and skipping. We were in O'Toole
park, it’s
not really a park just a bit of boggy ground with the old back
gardens of
knocked houses added on to form a kind of park, anyway we were
sitting on a
bench eating your bananas when who should we see but
Jaswinder
skipping with her pigtails bouncing about."
"And we
know the names of the kidnappers, the man who wears the duffle
coat is
called Martin, he's got ginger hair, the girl is called Sue ,
they saw us
kissing you see," George stopped he felt embarrassed.
"I
thought they'd recognise us from being on the bus the other night, or
that
Jaswinder would say something, she could have been in danger. So I
kissed
George for all I was worth, Jaswinder's safety demanded it , "
explained
Brownie.
Amjit
laughed, it'd been the first time he'd laughed since Jaswinder had
been taken
from him, Patrick laughed too. Balbinder came out from the
back, what
was this laughter she was hearing. Amjit explained in Indian.
"Is it
true, is it really true? " Balbinder scoured Brownie's and
George's
faces for confirmation.
"Yes
!" Brownie smiled.
Balbinder
kissed Brownie's hand, Brownie hugged Balbinder , "Hey be
happy , keep
your pecker up chuck, everything will be ok , " cooed
Brownie.
Balbinder
went in the back to tell her in-laws, a cheer went up, though
it still
sounded like a sigh. Balbinder came back out , she hugged
Brownie by
way of thanks, then she kissed Amjit, the first time ever
she'd kissed
him in public.
They all
stood around, a glow of relief about them, Jaswinder
was alive
that was something, but why were this Martin and his girl in
O'Toole park?
"He was
looking in the waste bins too, he smiled to himself as if he knew
a secret,
well it seemed like that," Brownie said, not wanting to seem
stupid.
"Looking
at waste bins, it could be that, " Patrick paused, his heart
was beating
faster, he was afraid to say the words.
"Could
be what?" Amjit's eyes were pleading, he knew what Patrick would
say only he
wanted Patrick to say it first.
"He's
planning the next drop off, he'll tell us to leave the money in the
park,"
Patrick spoke slowly.
"Yes
that's it, of course it is, it must be," Brownie sounded excited.
"Do you
think so?" Amjit felt uncertain now.
"I'd
place a bet on it," said George slapping his hand on the counter.
"It
must be the park," pronounced Patrick.
Amjit looked
at them in turn, then he spoke, "I was too afraid to say
it, I don't
know what to say, it’s just, " Amjit's words drifted into
nothingness,
he was afraid to hope.
Patrick
looked at his friend, Amjit looked so weak the sparkle had gone
from his
eyes, if only his mother was here she'd know what to say, she'd
soon have
Amjit smiling again. Only she wasn't there, Patrick would have
to do the
best he could.
"Look,
it MUST be the park, we've got the advantage now, we're ahead of
the little
bastard. We'll set a trap, the whole street will help, when
he calls
next we'll all be ready and waiting in the park, so when he goes
to collect
the money we'll grab Jaswinder back. And if she's not with him
we'll follow
, Jaswinder will be back with us, soon very soon , "
Patrick
spoke the words as his mother would have, full of fire and hope,
where this
hope came from only God knew.
"Yes,
we can set a trap, just like we did for the Jerries in the war,"
George felt
young again, he felt useful.
"Yes,
we'll get him this time, " Brownie joined in to form a chorus ,
Amjit needed
fire in his belly, she'd do her bit just like her George.
"Are
you really sure?" Amjit looked at their faces one by one.
"Mark
my words, it’s the park, " Patrick placed his hands on Amjit's
shoulders,
"listen my friend, Jaswinder will be home, she'll be able to
see my
daughter, everything will be ok."
Amjit smiled
weakly, a faint, a dim sparkle returned to his eyes.
"But
what are we going to do?" asked Brownie.
"First
you and George go and tell everybody to be ready, everybody to be
at the park
by nine tomorrow morning. You two know the layout so talk to
them all,
everybody to hide, then if we see Jaswinder we'll all jump
him, if he's
on his own then we'll follow, " Patrick sounded excited,
and he was
Jaswinder would be free, Jaswinder would be free.
So George
and Brownie went from shop to shop, a spring in their
step, hope
in their hearts. Jaswinder would be free, Jaswinder would be
free, they
had the initiative now. Jimmy came in Amjit's shop, his head
bowed, he
didn't want to look Amjit or Patrick in the eye.
"George
and Brownie told me the good news, only it’s not good news, you
see I know
this Martin," Jimmy looked them in the eye for a second.
"What,
but how," Patrick couldn't understand.
"He's a
friend of my son Danny, he's a drugs user and pusher, I told him
that if he
ever came near my son I'd kill him, " Jimmy stared at his
feet.
"It's
not your fault, Jimmy," Amjit said the words but in his heart he
felt hate.
"He
won't give Jaswinder any drugs if that's what you are thinking, he's
too mean to
do that, he's always on the scrounge, a born loser , "
continued
Jimmy as if reading Amjit's mind.
"But
Danny might know where he lives " Patrick said.
"He's
in Israel, remember, I sent him there so this Martin wouldn't have
any influence
over him," explained Jimmy still looking at his feet.
"Well
ring him up, the phone's there, " Patrick passed the phone to
Jimmy.
So Jimmy
rung Israel, speaking in Yiddish he asked to speak to his son,
only he
wasn't there, Jimmy slowly put the receiver down.
"He's
gone camping with this girl he met, he won't be back for a week, I
told them to
get him to ring as soon as he came back , " Jimmy spoke
slowly, he
felt so guilty, the sins of the son visited on the father.
"You
did your best, you'll be there tomorrow when we spring the trap
won't
you?" asked Amjit mellowing slightly.
"Of
course, I'm just so sorry, that's all," Jimmy started to leave,
still
looking at his feet.
Patrick
shouted after him, "this is just between the three of us, Martin
is an evil
bastard, him knowing your son doesn't count."
"Yes,
sure, anything you say," mumbled Jimmy with a heavy heart.
"We
play dominoes in the evening, if you're not busy then come along,"
ventured
Amjit.
Jimmy turned
and looked Amjit in the eye, "thanks, I'd like that."
When Jimmy
had left the shop Patrick spoke," you amaze me sometimes."
"There's
too much pain already, why make him suffer ? " said Amjit
shrugging
his shoulders.
In the
evening Barry arrived, with a tap to the left and a tap
to the
right, Amjit had the coffee and samosas ready.
"Sorry
I didn't turn up last time, only I got a chance to see the
football, so
I went along to the match ," explained Barry.
Patrick and
Amjit shook their heads, hadn't they lost Martin in the
crowds at
the same match.
"I nearly
didn't make it though, some prat ran right into me , he sent
me flying. A
prat in a duffle coat it was, his face was as red as his
hair he was
really running fast," continued Barry.
Patrick
groaned, Amjit looked to the ceiling and sighed, it was worse
than being
teased. Jimmy came in to join the game.
"This
is Barry, he's our dominoes coach, " said Patrick motioning to
Barry.
"Hello,
and who are you? " smiled Barry, turning towards the sound of
Jimmy's
footsteps.
"I'm
Jimmy, from the jewellers," said Jimmy holding out his hand.
He put his
hand down when Barry didn't take it, it was only then that he
noticed the
white stick resting against the counter.
"Can
you put the mirror in position for me, but a bit more to the right
this
time," asked Barry.
"Sure,"
so Patrick put the mirror in position, so Barry could cheat.
"It’s
the only way I can get a fair game, " explained Barry, turning to
Jimmy.
"Er,
yes," mumbled Jimmy.
"We'd
win otherwise," explained Patrick.
Barry began
to laugh, Patrick and Amjit joined in, Jimmy thought they'd
been
drinking, but he found himself laughing too.
"I'd
love to see your face, you must have thought we were bonkers , "
laughed
Barry.
Jimmy
laughed even more, his guilt over Martin soon lifted. So the four
played
dominoes. It was strange how a simple game gave so much pleasure,
as if they
had returned to childhood, returned to innocence with not a
care in the
world. Amjit found himself crying , not for sorrow ,
Jaswinder
would be found tomorrow so his tears weren't for sorrow. Jimmy
shed a tear
too, tears of relief, Amjit had forgiven him, with a look
over the
dominoes Amjit had forgiven him. Forgiveness was such a relief,
they were
free to be children, free to play their dominoes . Patrick
could sense
the relief, he wanted to say something but couldn't think of
the words,
he knew his mother must be praying hard.
His mother
was praying hard, she had the book of the saints out
in front of
her. One by one she asked them to do their bit, one by one
they were
recruited to her cause, one by one the prayers were said, one
by one they
were egged on, one by one they were encouraged to find
Jaswinder.
All the time she had Mother Theresa's photo in front of her,
from a
mother to a mother she spoke, a mother's tears she shed , she
pronounced
her faith, she pronounced her hope. Now was the time to set
things
right, now was the time to banish the night, now was the time to
open the
door, now was the time to prove her right, now was the time to
set wrongs
right, now was the time for a child to be free, now was the
time she
asked, she begged on bended knee, just set Jaswinder free.
The next
morning came, bright and blue, just a faint dark
cloud on the
horizon, but every cloud has a silver lining, this morning
they were
sure of that. Amjit was nervous, he was pacing backwards and
forwards in
front of the counter.
"Are
you sure it'll be O'Toole park? " Amjit sounded like a child asking
would Santa
really come.
"Trust
me, my mother said she was certain it'd be the park when I told
her the
news," Patrick tried to sound like a father to a son.
"You
are sure? " Amjit again sounded like a child wanting proof that
Santa would
really come.
"Yes,
I'm sure," and Patrick was.
But still
Amjit paced, he flexed, he was like a swimmer waiting for the
starting
gun, like a diver waiting to leap off the high board. They'd
exchange
smiles, Patrick certain, Amjit slightly afraid, afraid for
his child's
sake. Patrick was like a parent sitting by a child's bed ,
just until
it slept, then the ghosts couldn't get the child. The phone
rang, Amjit
leapt for it, only Patrick's hand was clamped over it.
"Just
act dumb, remember you don't know it’s going to be the park , just
act
dumb," Patrick then took his hand off the phone.
"Hello,"
Amjit forced himself to breath slowly.
"It's
me, I think you can afford more."
"How
much?"
"£3000,
that's how much."
Amjit
mouthed the figure to Patrick.
"That’s
a lot."
"Do you
wogs put a price on your children, isn't she worth it?"
"Of
course she is, and more."
"More,
in that case I want £5000."
Amjit closed
his eyes and bit his lip, he sighed.
"Ok,
ok, just give me back my baby."
"Deliver
it to O'Toole park, over Hemford Way. Put it in the waste bin
near the
swings," ordered Martin.
"Where's
that?"
"You
have an A to Z, use it, or don't you want your daughter back?"
Amjit didn't
know what to say, he didn't want to argue, he just wanted
his little
girl back.
"Are
you still there?"
"Yes, I
just feel ill."
"So
long as the money is there by 1PM."
"Ok."
"And
remember no Police."
"Can I
speak to my daughter?"
"NO,
she'd asleep, she wore herself out yesterday in the park."
"When
do I get her back?"
"When I
see the money, you'll see your daughter."
The phone
went dead, slowly Amjit replaced the receiver.
"Well?"
asked Patrick.
"It's
the park alright, he wants £5000 this time, he told me to leave it
in the waste
bin by the swings. Patrick, I'm afraid."
"Then
we'll have him and Jaswinder !" Patrick sounded triumphant.
"It
just d£sn't feel right Patrick, perhaps we should let him have the
money,"
Amjit was uncertain,.
"We
can't trust a man who steals a child, Jimmy told us what he's like,
we have to
go on," Patrick wished he could say more, but he couldn't.
Michael came
in with a large envelope, he handed it to Amjit.
"We had
a whip round, so they'd be no delay, there's thousands in there,
just give
him what he needs. I better be going to warn everybody, it is
the park
isn't it?"
"Yes,
and thanks," Amjit felt weak, weak and humbled.
"Go and
tell Balbinder, then I'll drive you to the drop off point , "
said
Patrick.
Balbinder
hugged her husband, Amjit's parents said their prayers were
with him,
without wasting any more time Amjit left the shop. Jaswinder
would be
safe before the day was out.
At the park
everybody had been in position for hours, all the
entrances
and exits had been covered, they'd had plenty of time to get in
position ,
nothing could go wrong. Percy had parked his hearse at the
back of the
park by a church, it used to be Anglican, now the Midlands
Orthodox
church had taken it over. A hearse parked outside a church would
not arouse
any suspicion, so Percy switched Radio Three on and settled
back to wait
for any sign of Martin.
Frank had
decided he'd get a good view of the park from the
local
launderettes, so brought a bag of clean clothes with him, then he
washed them
and washed them and washed them and washed them. He had
an
unobstructed
view of the park from where he sat, he'd not miss a thing.
A few doors
up the road from the launderettes was a garage and
car park,
Jimmy had decided he'd wait there. He just walked up to the
attendant
and said he'd be using the car wash all that morning, he then
slapped £50
on the counter saying he was selling his car to a very fussy
person . The
attendant didn't care she was busy reading a book on Irish
History for
her Degree course, he could bath in it for all she cared ,
she just
wanted some peace to read her history book. So Jimmy sat in the
car wash and
waited, and waited and waited.
Ann and Mary
from the clothes shop were also at the park along
with Annie
and Betty from the Trader, the four of them had decided that
they'd walk
around and around the path that bordered the park ,
occasionally
they'd stop and talk as if they'd bumped into each other. They
also decided
that a change of clothing would help disguise their
identities,
so Ann and Mary wore the latest reversible coats, after two
laps of the
park the pair would duck into some hedges and reverse their
coats . To a
casual viewer they were now two different people, as for
Betty and
Annie they had brought some of their props along too , they
followed the
same procedure, a few laps of the park then a dive into the
bushes to
change clothes. It would have been fun if it were a first night
of a farce,
but this was no farce, it was deadly earnest.
George and
Brownie were on the same bench as before , again
Brownie
smothered George with kisses every time a child appeared on the
horizon,
just in case it was Jaswinder, she had to be within grabbing
distance, so
Brownie took no chances, she smothered George in kisses.
Betty and
Annie smiled when they saw how Brownie was over reacting , but
they were
doing their bit. Michael had come on ahead and hooted his horn
as a signal,
it was the park, be ready for action. Big Sid had insisted
that he
should be there, only he couldn't find anywhere to hide, he was
just too
big, too big by half. So Sid took a desperate step, he hide in
a pile of
manure which was going to be spread over the bushes and plants,
when the
workmen got around to it.
Everybody
had been ready for hours, they all held their breath,
they watched
as Amjit walked into the park and placed an envelope in the
waste bin by
the swings. Amjit walked back to Patrick's car , Brownie
winked as he
past by. Once in Patrick's car he crouched down so he'd not
be seen, as
for Patrick he had a hat on and was reading a newspaper, he
had the
radio on loud too, nobody would suspect somebody making so much
noise, well
that was Patrick's theory anyway.
The girls
walked round and round, round and round the garden
like a teddy
bear, one step two step, and let the kidnapper beware. The
one grey
cloud from the morning had now mustered it’s troops, the greys
had now
turned to black, it started to rain, a storm was about to break.
Percy held
his breath as a man in a duffle coat walked by, it must be the
kidnapper,
it had to be, whoever it was he was whistling, he was happy.
The girls
spotted the man, it must be him, they hated him,
they
twitched their fingers, if only their nails were flick knives . A
ripple of
hate went over their wombs, that was the bastard for sure.
"It's
him," whispered Brownie.
"Quick
give me a banana," urged George.
"You
don't thing I should kiss you," asked Brownie as she handed George a
banana.
"No,
well, just wait till he gets close, I suppose we have to appear
the same as yesterday,"
George unzipped his banana.
Behind them
from another direction a tramp, a drunken tramp was
staggering
along the path, there was a dossers' shelter the other side of
the park, he
was on his way home. George was on his second banana when
Brownie saw
the tramp.
"Oh no,
the tramp's looking in the bins," Brownie closed her eyes.
"He
won't look in all of them, they never do," soothed George.
"Shall
we warn him off, or should we give him money, " Browmie didn't
know what to
do.
"He'll
only swear at us and do the opposite, " George took his teeth out
some banana
had got stook behind his top set.
The tramp
continued with his browsing in the bins, he walked past George
and Brownie,
he staggered to the next bin but decided to ignore it.
"See I
told you he'd not look in them all, " said George as he put his
teeth back
in.
A rumble of
thunder echoed over the park, the tramp hurried on, he was
heading
straight for the bin by the swings. George closed his eyes, the
flash of
lightning silhouetted the tramp putting an envelope in his pocket.
The tramp
left the path and went over the grass, the quick way to the
doss house.
Martin had
been making sure nobody would spot him, he'd been
pretending
to do sit ups and pull ups on the exercise trail which followed
the path
around the park. Now with the second flash of thunder he decided
he didn't
want to get wet, all he wanted was his money. So he began to
sprint, like
a hare out of the trap, straight for the bin by the swings.
To the sound
of thunder Martin emptied the bin, he shook it, he kicked
it, he
picked it up and threw it into the bushes. There was no money,
he'd been
cheated, he raced back the way he'd come. The hare caught in
the photo
finish of lightning, the rain came down, the rain came down.
George and
Brownie closed their eyes, it was all their fault, it was all
their fault.
"Quick
get on the bench and wave your scarf," urged George.
Leaning on
George for support Brownie took off her scarf and waved it for
all she was
worth.
"Catch
him, catch him," yelled Brownie.
Big Sid
awoke from his slumbers, the weight of manure had made
him fall
asleep, rising like Frankenstein he lumbered in the direction
Brownie was
pointing. He bumped into a vandal pulling saplings down, the
same vandal
who'd pestered Henry with litter, the kid fainted with shock.
Big Sid ran
for all he was worth, the manure falling off him , the
thunder
roared and the lightning flashed, Big Sid had risen from the dead
to help
catch a kidnapper.
Annie and
Betty lifted up their skirts to run, dressed as nuns
they raced
to the back of the park, George and Brownie went to the street
side, again
Brownie waved her scarf, catch the kidnapper, catch the
kidnapper.
Percy
started his hearse, he waited for Martin to get ahead,
he didn't
want to give the game away, he started to pull out. A lorry
carrying
hundred weight sacks of cement arrived, it blocked his way ,
what Percy
didn't know was that the Orthodox church had moved on, now the
former
Anglican church was used as a builders yard . Betty and Annie
appeared in
their black stockings with their skirts hitched up , Percy
pointed and
the girls raced off around the corner after Martin.
The girls
could see him get in a car and drive off, the rain
was really
heavy, their costumes were weighting them down.
"Quick
through the park again, he's got to get to the main road, "
yelled
Annie.
Again the
girls dashed though the park, nuns showing their knickers as
they ran.
The vandal had awoke by now, he smiled it was better than a
dream , two
nuns in black stockings running towards him. As he smiled he
reached out
to touch them, only Annie wasn't having any of this, so she
kicked him
hard in the nuts, and so did Betty. Jaswinder's life was at
stake, so
they gave the smiling pervert what he deserved.
Frank had
seen Brownie waving her scarf, so he dashed out the
launderette,
his van keys at the ready, there was a car speeding by with
a man in it,
he was wearing a duffle coat.
"You've
forgotten your jeans mister, " an old lady said grabbing him by
the arm, she
wouldn't let go.
Annie and
Betty came running out the park towards the car wash , Jimmy
pushed open
a passenger door so they could jump in , he turned the
ignition .
Only the car wouldn't start, all morning in a car wash had
drowned the
engine, Jimmy swore, the two nuns swore.
Amjit and
Patrick were about to leave the car park when the
first of ten
tinkers caravans arrived, O'Toole park was like a second
home to
them, they felt safe there. Amjit cursed, Patrick cursed under
his breath,
he knew it was never wise to upset a tinker. So it was left
to old
Michael to follow, he'd had a bacon sandwich and a cup of tea
before going
back into his taxi: when he saw Bettie and Annie dressed as
naughty nuns
he'd followed the dirty yellow Datsun with the duffle coated
man, the
kidnapper in.
The thunder
roared, and roared and roared, the lion had escaped
the circus.
The lightning flashed, flashed and flashed again , like
sparks from
a devil's workshop. But the weather was nothing compared to
Martin's
fury, he'd been tricked, he was angry, he'd have revenge. A
lifetime of
driving allowed Michael to keep up, raw anger kept Martin in
the lead.
The rain came down, the rain came down . A car came out of a
driveway, no
indicator, no nothing, the usual bad driving, the Datsun
swerved to
avoid it only to head straight for a lorry, the lorry swerved
too, only
God or luck prevented a collision. The lorry went in a pothole
throwing up
a fountain of water against the Datsun, the Datsun swerved
the other
way, scraping against a parked ice cream van . Michael was
close
behind, he braked, he swerved, he skidded, he stopped behind the
ice cream
van with only inches to spare. Michael hurriedly moved off
again , the
rain had now washed the dirt from the Datsun , the number
plate was
clear. If only he could read it, Percy had said he had friends
who could
trace it for him. Up ahead the Datsun had another close shave,
with a
dustcart this time, Michael struggled to overtake a bus, finally
he did. He'd
lost the Datsun, he'd stick to the main road, what was
that up ahead,
it was the Datsun. Michael bobbed and weaved, bobbed
and weaved
till he was right behind, so he could at least get the
registration.
A set of traffic lights were up ahead, if only they'd turn
to red, they
did. But the Datsun shot through them, Michael had to wait
till they
changed, it took him three minutes to catch up again. Michael
closed in,
he could read the registration now. Michael then noticed that
the man was
not wearing a duffle coat, in fact he was wearing a collar
and tie, or
rather a collar. It was a vicar. Michael cursed like he'd
cursed in
the army, only the rumble of thunder drowned his curses, the
vicar ahead
could lip read though. So he gave Michael a severe look and
in return
Michael gave him two fingers. The traffic lights changed ,
Michael
turned the corner and parked.
"Shit,
shit, shit," swore Michael.
A policeman
on point duty came over to Michael's taxi to investigate.
"Anything
the matter, Sir?"
"No,
it’s my darts team, we lost," lied Michael pointing to the radio
which was switched
off.
"If
that's all I'll get back to directing traffic, but do drive carefully
in all this
rain," the P.C. saluted and went back to his position in the
middle of
the road.
Back on the
street everybody had gathered in Mark's cafe, they
sat hunched over
their teas, stirring and stirring, as if the tea could
become an
Oracle , as if by looking at the tea Jaswinder's fate would be
revealed,
things looked bleak. Nobody dared look another in the face,
they all
felt guilty, each felt that it was their fault and their fault
alone that
Jaswinder wasn't free because they had failed to follow the
kidnapper.
So there they all sat hunched over their teas all hoping and
praying that
the tea would turn into an Oracle and reveal Jaswinder's
whereabouts.
Patrick spoke
first, though his voice sounded like laughter at a funeral
all
everybody wanted to do was stare at their tea, as they stired and
stirred and
stirred.
"It was
all planned, and still the bastard got away," Patrick finished
off his
third tea, hoping it'd wash away the bad taste in his mouth.
Gillian came
an gave Patrick a refill, she stroked his hair, hoping to
comfort him.
"And he
didn't get his money, " added Amjit looking up from his tea, he
bit his lip,
Gillian
squeezed his shoulder as she poured him another tea, it was all
she could
do, but what more could she do, if there was more she'd do it.
"I
should have realised my car would stall, hours in the car wash , it
was
inevitable, I'm a fool, it’s all my fault," Jimmy banged the table
he was
thinking about the part his son had played in all this, the sins
of the son
had been visited on the father.
"It’s
our fault, we were stupid to dress up as nuns, it’s our fault, "
began Annie.
"We
should have known better, " said Betty barely able to hold back the
tears.
"It was
so terrible, the church had been deconsecrated years ago, it was
a builder's
yard, not a church, I could have put her life in danger ,
it’s my
fault," sighed Percy as he stirred his tea.
"We
should have stopped the tramp, we could of, we could have given him
a few bob,
or struck up a conversation with him, but we didn't so he got
to the waste
bin first, it’s our fault," said George.
" He
looked angry when he didn't get his money," added Brownie.
Amjit felt a
shiver go down his spine, he looked about for reassurance,
he was like
a frightened child.
"Next
time he rings you'll have to tell him that anybody could have taken
it,"
said Sid.
"I'll
have to tell the truth, that we set a trap," Amjit spoke slowly.
Everybody
looked at each other, was Amjit suggesting treason, or what?
It was left
to Patrick to urge caution, "do you think that's wise?"
"We
have to, for Jaswinder's sake, " Amjit stirred his tea for the
thousandth
time.
"Just ,
just say you waited, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jaswinder ,
don't tell
him about the rest of us," advised Big Sid.
"Yes
that's right, if you must tell the truth then tell just part of it,
be
economical with the truth as they say in Politics, " said Patrick
trying to
sound his most persuasive.
"He's
right , be economical with the truth as Judges say, " Percy was
sounding
more like his old self now.
"I
don't know, " Amjit looked at their faces one by one, he felt like a
schoolboy
who was going to twit on his pals, but he had to, didn't he?
"Do
what you think best and we will all support you, " Big Sid sounded
like a
father.
Amjit closed
his eyes and gulped," thanks, thanks all of you."
"I
think you should have a bath now, Sid, it was a great disguise at the
time but now
go and wash it off, " said Patrick hoping to lighten
everybody’s
mood.
"Ok,
I'm going, I know when I'm not wanted," nodding to Amjit Sid left
the cafe.
Gillian
sprayed the air freshener after him, everybody smiled, but still
they stirred
their teas.
They all
remained where they were, nobody wanted to make a
move , it
would be like rushing away from a graveside to go off to a
party, so
they stirred their teas and consulted the Oracle hoping for an
answer , so
long as it wasn't the one they feared most. The chug of
Michael's
taxi could be heard, then with one spit then another they heard
Michael open
the cafe door.
"Sorry
I got delayed, " explained as he cleared his throat and spat in
his
handkerchief.
"Here
get this down you, " said Mark handing Michael a mug of steaming
tea.
"Ah,
that's better, have you got something to perk it up a bit?"
Mark reached
under the counter and put some Calvadose in Michael's tea.
"Thanks
, my chest is playing up in all this damp and rain, " Michael
again spat
in his handkerchief.
"None
of us had any luck," explained Percy.
"I did
, I followed his car, " Michael said before having another
reviving sip
from his fortified tea.
"Great
!" shouted Patrick.
Every face
shone with hope, everybody stopped stirring their tea, as if a
surge of
electricity had gone through them , bringing them all to
attention.
Michael put
down his tea, " I almost had him , he was driving like a
maniac, it
was hard but I managed to keep up. His car was so dirty, but
what with
all the rain it was as if it was in a carwash, " Jimmy closed
his eyes,
Michael continued," I tried to read the number plate as the
rain washed
the dirt from it, only when he nearly crashed I got
distracted,
I nearly went into something myself. Anyway I lost him, but
I stayed
with the main road hoping to catch up. I thought I had caught up
when I saw a
yellow Datsun ahead, only it wasn't him, it was a vicar."
"At
least you tried, if only we could get the number plate, then we'd
have him, I
have friends," sighed Percy.
"But we
can't go to the Police," Amjit didn't understand.
"Just
trust me, if we get the number plate then we can trace him , the
Police will
have nothing to do with it,I have friends," Percy touched
his nose.
"I just
hope he's not angry about the money, " Amjit looked like a
child asking
his mother would his dad beat him for being naughty.
"Everything
will be ok, chuck," said Brownie giving Amjit a hug.
When Martin
got home he was fuming, he was wet, his car was
damaged and
he hadn't got the money, not a penny.
"Where
is she?" snapped Martin.
"In the
bedroom," answered Sue, she was frightened.
Martin
stormed into the bedroom pulling his wet coat off, Jaswinder was
playing,
bouncing on the bed.
"You
look like Yorzal Gummidge," she giggled.
Martin
replied by slapping her face, "your daddy doesn't love you , he
didn't even
bother leaving any money, your daddy doesn't love you."
Again he
slapped Jaswinder, Sue hurried to intervene, to place her fat,
her pregnant
body between Martin and Jaswinder.
"You'll
kill her, you'll kill her, leave her alone," screamed Sue.
Sue got hit
instead, Jaswinder hid under the bed, all she could see was
the
struggling feet of Martin and Sue. After a while Martin stopped, he
just reached
for a handful of pills, of drugs, he'd rest then he'd plan
his revenge.
Sue grabbed Jaswinder and stuffed her in the cupboard out of
harm’s way,
as for Martin he lay on the bed and dreamed.
Hours later
Martin had a plan formed, he'd have his revenge,
he'd make
Amjit pay. Grabbing the kitchen knife he made Sue give him the
key to the
cupboard, Sue knew she couldn't stop him, her lip was split
already, she
closed her eyes, so long as it was over quickly.
"I'll
show them, and I'll still get money too !" Martin was smiling.
As he opened
the cupboard with the knife raised Sue fainted, now at least
she wouldn't
be a witness, only Martin was to blame.
Big Sid had
gone home to have a bath, then a shower , then
another
bath, then another shower. Hours spent under the pile of manure
had left him
stinking, Big Sid scrubbed and scrubbed till his skin was
raw. All the
time he thought of Jaswinder, all alone, he thought of her
picture on
the wall of his butchers, he thought of the space he'd
reserved for
the photo of Patrick's new daughter Sheila. He thought of
the past,
the first photo on his butcher's wall all those years ago ,
he'd seen
the babies grow up till their own babies' photos were on his
wall, he
even had one granddaughter on his wall. It was all so nice, so
innocent, so
peaceful. Only now one of those photos, one of those flesh
and blood
photos was in danger, his Indian Princess was in danger. And
it was all
his fault, it was all his fault, if only he hadn't fallen
asleep under
the pile of manure. It was all his fault, he thought of the
past all the
laughs he'd had with his "girls" in his shop, the photos of
their
daughters and sons on his wall. But what of the future? Big Sid
turned the
hot tap on again, he felt so cold. What of the future, what
of the
future. The sound of the water over flowing onto the floor woke
Big Sid from
his thoughts and fears.
But at least
little Sheila was ok, Mathew was guarding her ,
the Gavin
Twins were guarding her, she was safe, she had a future ,
there was a
space on the wall for her photo. Sid got dressed, at least
she was ok,
at least the little innocent Sheila was ok. Sid was worried
he'd just go
and pay a visit,it was about time he saw little baby Sheila,
a drive
would do him good. Sitting at home he felt like a cow waiting his
turn at the
slaughter house, yes he'd go and pay a visit on Mrs Murphy,
he'd see the
new baby, the new hope. It'd take his mind off Jaswinder,
it'd help
him stop feeling guilty, for falling asleep at the chosen hour.
Big Sid
sighed, he had the window right down, the air was fresh,
it felt so
good, a nice drive to see a new baby. The perfect end to a
day,
Jaswinder would be ok, tomorrow was another day. Tonight he'd see
the new baby
, he'd even get a photo off Mrs Murphy to put on his
butcher's
wall. Big Sid felt better, new babies always made him feel
good, even
now. Sid could see the Gavins' lorry parked down the road,
so parking
outside Mrs Murphy's he got out of his van and crossed over to
have a few
words before he went to see the new baby.
"Hello
lads, thanks for standing guard," Big Sid sounded appologetic as
if he was
thanking them for doing something they hated.
"It’s
ok Sid, we don't mind it’s the least we can do," said Luke.
"You've
heard today's news?" asked Big Sid.
"No,
what's up?" wondered John.
"We
were all ready for him, the whole lot of us in O'Toole park, only he
didn't have
Jaswinder with him, otherwise we'd have snatched her back ,
well the
money was in a waste bin like he asked only a tramp came along
and took it
. George and Brownie are killing themselves with guilt
because they
didn't stop the tramp, but it was my fault as well, I fell
asleep while
waiting for the kidnapper."
"Don't
blame yourself, Sid," Mathew touched Sid's elbow.
"But it
is my fault," Sid looked at the ground.
"She'll
be ok don't worry, look the light's gone on in Mrs Murphy's
bedroom
she's blackmailing and bribing the saints as we speak , " Mark
pointed over
Sid's shoulder.
Mrs Murphy
began her prayers, if she could keep two set of
beads on the
go at the same time she would have.
"Well
lads, you know what I'm asking, and you know the Novena is nearing
it’s end so
don't go letting me down, do you hear me ? Saint Mother
Theresa of
Calcutta is joining you all on this one, well to be honest
she'll be
leading you all, so don't let me down. Hail Mary full of
Grace The
Lord is With You...," prayed Mrs Murphy.
"All we
know is that he wears a duffle coat, we think he has a
pregnant
girlfriend too, we aren't positive but we are very certain, he
was seen
with Jaswinder and the pregnant girl you see," explained Sid.
"Lord
hear us, Lord save us, Lord protect us. And Mary if
you're
listening as one mother to another can You use your weight, I know
you're very
busy what with the state of the world and so on. I know I'm
rushing you,
but didn't you do the same thing yourself at Cana. Ask Him
to show an
interest, " Mrs Murphy was coming to an end of tonight's
prayers.
Luke Gavin
looked up the road, he could hear footsteps, a man
and a woman
were coming towards Mrs Murphy's house. The man was
wearing a
duffle coat,
the woman was fat, very fat, pregnant even.
"So all
you know is that he wears a duffle coat and he has a pregnant
girlfriend,"
repeated Mark Gavin.
John Gavin
looked to see what Luke was looking at.
"Yes
that's it a duffle coated man and a pregnant woman," repeated Sid.
Mathew Gavin
looked next, what were his brothers looking at.
The man in the
duffle coat had his hand on Mrs Murphy's doorbell,
the bell
sounded. Still holding baby Sheila in her hand June went to
answer the
door, "I'll answer it Sheila, finish your prayers, " June
shouted up
the stairs.
Sid spun
around what were the Gavins looking at, again the door
bell rang,
"I coming, " said June. Mrs Murphy blessed herself, her
prayers were
over for another night.
"No,
No," screamed Sid.
The Gavins
erupted like a volcano, it was the kidnapper, the wolf was
at the door.
June juggled with baby Sheila as she struggled to undo all
the locks on
the front door.
"No, No
!" screamed Sid, who was now running after the Gavin Twins.
Mrs Murphy
looked startled, that was Sid's voice, she rushed to the
window . Why
were the Gavins running towards the house , she looked
down, on her
doorstep she could see a duffle coated man.
"June
don't open the door, " screamed Mrs Murphy wide eyes with terror,
not for
herself but for her grandchild and for June.
Mrs Murphy
raced out of her bedroom, snatching at the dressing table as
she went.
"June
don't answer the door, June don't answer the door. Mathew, Mathew
save us,
Mathew, Mathew, save us. June don't answer the door , "
screamed Mrs
Murphy as she ran along the landing
The Gavin
Twins raced over the road, no more the four evangelists , no,
like the
Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse they raced. The time had come,
it was the
kidnapper or baby Sheila, all or nothing.
"June
don't answer the door ! , Mathew, Mathew, Mathew !" screamed Mrs
Murphy as
she turned the top of the landing and stood at the top of the
stairs.
Mathew was
roused from his television watching, Mrs Murphy was screaming
, what was
the matter.
"Mathew
save June, save baby Sheila," screamed Mrs Murphy.
June had the
chain off the door was already opening, Mrs Murphy flew down
the stairs.
Mathew came
running from the back, he had to save June and baby Sheila,
just as he
had in the church he had to save the baby, he had to save the
baby. The
door opened wider.
Outside the
Gavins still had yards to go, Sid was running after
them he
could see the door opening, June was in the doorway she was
holding baby
Sheila.
"No, No
!" screamed Sid as he raced faster, as fast as his bulk would
let him.
The Gavins
charged, another pace or two and they'd dive.
"Mathew
, Mathew ! " screamed Mrs Murphy as she came hurtling down the
last steps
of the stairs, squeezing her rosary for all it was worth.
June looked
outside, in terror she saw a duffle coated man and a fat
woman,
wasn't the kidnapper always in a duffle coat and didn't he have a
fat or even
pregnant girlfriend.
The door was
still opening wider, Mrs Murphy screamed again, Mathew was
right behind
June and baby Sheila, but the kidnapper was right in front
and didn't
he have something shiny in his hand.
June
screamed , she clutched baby Sheila closer to her . Mrs Murphy
screamed ,
Mathew growled. Mathew reached to grab June away from the
door, Mrs
Murphy was right behind Mathew.
"Jesus
save us !" screamed Mrs Murphy.
Big Sid
could see all the photos falling from his shop wall, he could see
the shadow
of a duffle coated man pass over his photo wall, down came the
photos down
came Big Sid's family, down came his life. It was all over.
"No, no
!," Sid screamed.
Like a roar
of thunder Sid screamed, the Gavin Twins leaped, it was now
or never,
but what was that flashing in the kidnappers hand.
"No, no
!" screamed Bid Sid.
Big Sid
thought he'd have a heart attack, his heart was beating in his
ears, he
could hear the thump the thump the thump of his heart. He could
feel the
tapping of his meat cleaver in his apron pocket.
"No
!" screamed Big Sid.
"Jesus
! Mother Theresa !" screamed Mrs Murphy.
Mrs Murphy
was at June's elbow, Mathew had both hands out as he leapt at
June and
baby Sheila. The Gavins leap as one, June closed her eyes.
Big Sid
leapt into the air," No!" his full eighteen stone was behind it as
he threw his
cleaver. He could see the kidnapper still moving forward ,
with
something flashing in his hand. Sid's cleaver sprung through the air
light a bolt
of lightning, handle blade, handle blade, handle blade,
handle blade
, handle blade. His cleaver was faster than the diving
Gavins,
faster than the kidnapper. Blade handle, blade handle, blade
handle ,
handle duffle coat blade door. Sid's cleaver had pinned the
kidnapper to
the door by the hood of his coat. In the split second that
the
kidnapper noticed the blade he was swept to the ground, four Gavins
on his
chest. Mathew had come running out from the back of the house ,
like a
spinning top he'd picked up June and threw her onto the settee in
the front
room. Mrs Murphy shot out the front door, leaping over the
fallen
kidnapper. Her rosary in one hand, the borrowed meat cleaver in
the other
Mrs Murphy grabbed the woman by the throat.
"Come
on you old whore, where is she," she screamed like a banshee.
Sid loomed
up at the front gate to emphasise the point . The pregnant
girl was too
shocked to speak, and she couldn't anyway as Mrs Murphy was
strangling
her. The Gavins pulled the kidnapper up, ready to draw and
quarter him
with their bare hands. Sid reached up and pulled his cleaver
from the
door, the hood fell to the ground.
"This
is the last time I'll ask, where is she?" Sid put his cleaver to
Martin's
throat.
Martin
spoke, "but Sir we are from the Children Of God, we're looking
for converts,
we only arrived yesterday from America "
"Yes
that’s right," added Sue.
Sid looked
at the floor, there was a rolled up leaflet , on shinning
silver
paper. And they did have American accents.
Everybody
was silent, June peered out of the front room from behind
Mathew. He'd
been like a tornado, picking her up and setting her down in
safety.
"So you
really are from America," June edged forward holding her baby.
"Yes
!" replied Martin. Only he wasn't Martin and it wasn't Sue either.
Mrs Murphy
lowered the cleaver that Sid had given her for protection, Sid
lowered his
cleaver too. The Gavins dropped the man, Luke handed him the
hood from
his duffle coat.
"We're
good Catholics, we don't want Moonies in this country, do we ,
Mathew,
Mark, Luke, John?" smiled Mrs Murphy showing her rosary.
"Yes we
are all Catholics," smiled Sid.
"Fine,
sure thing Sir," said the man.
"Sorry
for the misunderstanding, will you have a cup of tea ? " Mrs
Murphy was
trying to make amends.
The man
looked at her disbelievingly, a mad woman with a rosary and a
cleaver was
inviting them in for tea, and her husband and five deranged
sons were
all smiling at them. Only the daughter looked sane , Duane
looked at
Mary-Beth, then carefully he spoke.
"If you
don't mind we have a plane to catch."
So Duane and
Mary-Beth went on their way, the Adams family
waving them
goodbye.
"Sorry
about that, it’s my fault," said Sid.
"It’s
ok, come on in, we'll have some tea," said Mrs Murphy as she put
the cleaver
in the hallstand.
"We'll
put up a new door, a metal door with a spy hole up afterwards , "
said Luke
seeing the damage Sid's cleaver had done to the door.
Back on the
street Amjit was feeling low, Patrick stood beside
him, he knew
words were no use, so he just stood there, smiling every
time Amjit
looked at him. Barry breezed in, his usual smile on his face,
how could he
be happy when he couldn't see. Amjit said that he didn't
feel like
dominoes and did Barry mind. Barry didn't, he could tell Amjit
was upset,
words crawled from Amjit's mouth they didn't jump or leap or
bounce or
even walk, they just crawled from Amjit's mouth and dropped on
the floor.
Amjit said that he'd get the coffee and samosas, he'd just be
a minute,
Patrick squeezed Barry's arm, Barry nodded, anybody could
tell Amjit
was feeling low, you didn't need radio ears . When Amjit
returned
Barry began telling blind jokes, like how he always used the
ladies
toilets when he wanted a laugh, to hear their screams was such fun.
The way they
complained, then bent over backwards to apologise when they
realised he
was blind, he'd made a few friends by using that trick .
Amjit
laughed as Barry went into the detail, Barry was fun that was for
sure , he
was so full of life, and he was blind while still young .
Barry spent
the rest of the evening telling stories, how shopping for
clothes was
fun too, he'd always ask people to tell him if a certain
colour
suited him and so on. Barry loved to catch security guards out too
if he was
feeling down, they'd stop him for shop lifting, he'd say it
wasn't his
fault, he couldn't very well see everything or anything in his
trolley for
that matter, could he. Barry laughed a lot when he told that
one, he had
to make amusement for himself didn't he. He couldn't watch
the world go
by could he, he couldn't watch the autumn leaves change
colour and
finally fall. People didn't stop and chat at bus stops with
blind
people, it was very lonely being in the dark all the time, so he
had to use
tricks to get people to talk to him. If only people bothered
to think,
then they'd talk to him and other blind people. Though some
people
pretended they were blind, hiding behind newspapers on trains ,
avoiding eye
contact: but if they didn't have the choice, if they were
forever hid
behind the newspaper, then they'd change, then they'd say a
few words.
But Barry wasn't bitter, he'd had sight once , that was
better than
being blind from the start. Amjit squeezed Barry's arm ,
Barry was so
brave , and he didn't even know it. Barry told a final
story before
going home, he told how sighted friends had said how pretty
this girl
was . Barry only knew her by her perfume, so one day he
deliberately
bumped into her, it was a way to strike up a conversation,
so now the
girl was a friend. His friends had called him a sly bastard,
Barry just
smiled, being blind did have it’s advantages. So feeling the
time on his
watch Barry said goodnight, again Patrick walked him home.
"Thanks
for being a friend, I'll tell everybody on the street to talk to
you every
time they see you, you'll have plenty of friends in future, I
can
guarantee it," Patrick patted Barry's shoulder.
"There
is one disadvantage, if I don't like somebody I can't see them
coming or
pretend to look the other way," Barry laughed.
Patrick went
on his way, Barry's laughter ringing in his ears , Barry
reminded
Patrick of his mother, she'd never give up , she'd never
surrender to
anything, she spat in the face of difficulties just like
Barry, just
like Barry.
Morning
came, it was drizzling, horrible drizzle. It got
everywhere,
everything was damp, everything was horrible. It was the
kind of day
when a look out the window would make you decide to stay in
bed hid
under the blanket listening to the radio. But Patrick couldn't do
that he had
to continue his vigil with Amjit, no matter how much he
wanted to
hide under the blankets.
Ken came in,
his collar up against the weather, his back up
because of
the kids, "Bloody Postman Pat, the BBC has a lot to answer
for".
Leaving the post on the counter Ken left, swearing he'd strangle
the next
person to call him "Postman Pat". Amjit ignored the post , he
could tell
it was mainly bills, the brown envelopes gave it all away ,
the large
white ones were always the junk mail, the big padded envelope
that was
another matter. But Amjit wasn't interested in the mail , he
wasn't
interested in anything. For the hundredth time that morning he
asked
Patrick the same question.
"Do you
think Jaswinder's ok, do you think it'll be enough to say I
waited to
see if I could catch a glimpse of Jaswinder, or should I tell
him we set a
trap?"
Amjit was
half hoping to shift the responsibility, to pass the buck, but
he knew it
was all up to him, he was all alone, even though everybody on
the street
was on his side, he was still all alone.
George and
Brownie came in, they had to do their bit, they had
to be with
him, even if they were old and grey, they offered their
shoulders to
lean on. Balbinder came out to exchange a few words , she
felt caged,
cornered in a cage with only her prayers for comfort . As
Brownie
hugged Balbinder Amjit flicked at the post, he decided to open
the big
padded envelope. Putting his hand inside he felt something soft
and long ,
he pulled it out of the envelope, his eyes were still on
Balbinder.
Amjit pulled the thing from the envelope, Balbinder looked up
at her
husband, she saw what was in his hand. Long and black with a pink
ribbon on
the end, Balbinder opened her mouth to scream, she broke from
Brownie's
embrace. Amjit looked at what he had in his hand, his mind did
not register
what it was at first, the shock of Balbinder's scream hit
him , he
knew what he was holding. One of Jaswinder's pigtails that
Balbinder
had platted, the pink ribbon was Jaswinder's favourite. Amjit
dropped the
pigtail, Balbinder screamed again and again. Amjit screamed
now too,
Brownie spun around, she looked at the counter. She could see
a pigtail
with a pink ribbon still attached, it was Jaswinder's pigtail.
Brownie felt
faint, George had to steady her. Old Mr Amjit came running
from the
back, his walking stick raised to strike, old Mrs Amjit was
behind him .
Amjit's parents saw the ribbon , they screamed too .
Everybody
screamed. Patrick grabbed the pigtail and put it back in the
envelope,
Balbinder snatched the envelope back from Patrick. Holding it
close to her
Balbinder retreated to the back room, tears streaming down
her face.
Patrick grabbed a bottle of Johnny Walker and pulled the top
off, he made
Amjit drink it, then George and Brownie, then finally he
had a drink
himself, before making them all drink again.
"Jesus,
he must be really angry," Patrick whispered.
"I must
tell him everything," said Amjit through his tears.
"Do
whatever you think best, we are all behind you," said George.
Between them
they finished the bottle of whisky, it gave them no comfort
no joy, they
just needed something warm inside them.
"It was
so sudden, no warning, Balbinder shouldn't have seen it , my
parents
shouldn't have had such a shook, " Amjit still leant on the
counter to
steady his jangled nerves.
"My
brother died in the war, you expect that, but this," Brownie shook
her head and
sighed.
"It's
all my fault, I should have snatched her back when we had that
chance that
time in the park," said George as blew his nose.
"It's
nobody's fault, only this Martin, if he hurts Jaswinder I'll kill
him,"
Amjit spat out the words.
They waited
for hours for the phone to ring, but it didn't ,
the only
noise came from Balbinder, moans and cries and prayers as she
held
Jaswinder's pigtail close to her heart. Martin had been out the
previous
night, but not to kill the first born, not to get baby Sheila,
just to post
a package. He hadn't even sent a message with the package,
he didn't
need to, the lone pigtail had the effect he desired . He
wouldn't
ring that day either, he'd make them sweat, but he was making
them do more
than that, much much more, he'd sent them to Hell.
George and
Brownie left, the rain was getting worse , the
kidnapper
wouldn't ring that day they knew it now, now that they'd got
their breath
back. So they crossed the road to tell Big Sid the bad news,
the sad
news. Taking him into the deep freeze, just in case a customer
came in,
Brownie told him.
"Amjit
had a parcel a while ago, it had Jaswinder's pigtail in it, the
bastard cut
her pigtail off," she said.
"No
!" screamed Sid banging his fists on a side of beef.
His mind
swam, all the pain of the past week, he'd fallen asleep while
waiting ,
then the false alarm last night, it was all too much . The
volcano
inside had to erupt.
"You
think it’s funny, me covered in shit, while you laugh at me, while
you hurt
Jaswinder , BASTARD, " Sid was out of his mind he lunged
straight for
Brownie.
Only it
wasn't her, but the smiling face of a pig in his deep freeze ,
Sid
strangled the smiling face.It was the kidnapper he was strangling,
the duffle
coated kidnapper, the thief, the teaser, the child snatcher.
The sound of
cracking bones broke Sid from his anger, blood was coming
from his
fingers, he cracked the skull of the pig and cut his hands.
George took
Sid by one arm and led him out the deep freeze, Brownie still
shocked
followed.
"I'm
sorry , it’s just that I felt so angry, so angry and yet so
helpless,
just like a new born baby," mumbled Sid.
Brownie
wrapped her handkerchief around Sid's bleeding fingers, Sid let
her do it
just as a child lets his mother kiss his wounds better. Brownie
stroked his
face and smiled.
"Better
out than in, but no more outbursts, for Jaswinder's sake, all
right
chuck," Brownie smiled weakly.
"No
more outbursts, I'm sorry, " Sid looked down at his feet, he was
like a child
who'd just wet the bed.
George and
Brownie left Sid to nurse his wounds, all his wounds
while they
braved the weather outside, they'd go home and have some hot
cocoa for
themselves. Then they'd have a cry, a real good cry.
In the cafe
down the road the phone rang, it was Mrs Murphy.
Gillian
listened and wrote down the request, then shaking her head she
put down the
phone, before turning to Mark her husband.
"That
was Mrs Murphy, she said can we prepare a buffet, and a bit of
fancy cake
too, baby Sheila's being Christened the day after tomorrow."
"But
doesn't she know about Amjit's parcel? I mean is this the right time
for all
that?" Mark couldn't understand.
"She
just said a Novena never fails, never," Gillian voice croaked.
"I just
hope she's right, the false alarm at her house was bad enough and
then the
parcel this morning, either she'd totally mad or,"
"She
has a mother's hope, no surrender, never, " there was a tear in
Gillian's
eye.
Mark hugged
her, he knew his wife was afraid, so was he , so was
everybody,
only Mrs Murphy showed no fear.
"We
better get cracking then, it'll keep us occupied , the rain is
keeping most
people in anyway, " Mark pointed outside, the rain was
really
coming down now, so the cafe was deserted.
That evening
Barry came again for the dominoes , but again
Amjit didn't
feel up to it, so Barry just talked. His jokes and tales
and
conversation were like the sing song rhythm of a mother's voice which
calmed a
baby. The voice, the contact, the connection all seemed to
form a
lifeline, it prevented Amjit from sinking beneath the sea of
sorrow. And
on Barry spoke, till the coffee and samosas were all gone,
then feeling
the time Barry went home, Patrick walked with him.
"Thanks
Barry, I don't know what to say, but, well but , " began
Patrick.
"It's ok
, it must be something real bad, I'll think of him tonight
before I go
to bed," smiled Barry.
"Thanks,
well just thanks," mumbled Patrick.
"That's
what friends are for, see you," Barry waved goodbye, then with
a tap to the
left and a tap to the right he was gone.
When Patrick
got home to his new empty house the phone was
ringing, it
was his mother.
"I hope
you've got a clean shirt for the day after tomorrow, " began Mrs
Murphy.
"Why,
what for? " Patrick couldn't understand, he was so tired, so
very tired.
"For
baby Sheila," Mrs Murphy was speaking as if her son was an egyt.
"A
shirt for Sheila?" Patrick looked confused.
"Sheila's
being Christened the day after tomorrow, just make sure you
have a clean
shirt, you could put your suit on too, " explained Mrs
Murphy.
"But
cann't it wait, I mean," began Patrick.
"We're
not Prods, or Royalty, you were Christened two days after you
were born,
if anything we've left it a little late for baby Sheila, just
make sure
you have a clean shirt, " Mrs Murphy wasn't having any
excuses.
"But
what about last night at your house, and the parcel Amjit got this
morning,
don't you think the Christening can wait?"
"Everything
will be ok, just find a clean shirt for yourself , " Mrs
Murphy hung
up.
Patrick
shook his head, he needed a drink, there was a can left in the
fridge he'd
have that.
Mrs Murphy
went upstairs to bed, she'd just have a quick prayer
before she
went to sleep.
"Well
lads you heard me, I said everything will be ok, so it had better
be. And as
for you Anthony call yourself a saint, the dog's arse is
more of a
saint than you fancy letting him cut Jaswinder's pigtail off .
You better
get your act together, you'd make your mother ashamed of you
do you hear
me? Theresa it’s all up to you now, show this lot how a real
saint works
will you, please please."
Mrs Murphy
caught her breath, the tears were welling up inside her, but
she had no
time for tears. So she started a rosary, she was still saying
it when she
fell asleep.
Martin slept
well that night too, he knew the pigtail would
make them
sit up, when he was ready he'd call and demand £10000 , then
they could
have the little wog back, he was fed up of her crying and
wetting.
Once he had his money he'd be off, perhaps he'd go to Bristol.
Mrs Murphy
awoke, she was still praying , looking at the
religious
picture of Anthony she said "sorry". She got out of bed and got
dressed ,
today Fr. Shaw was saying a special Mass, she'd make a bit of
breakfast
for them all then they'd go to Mass.
At the
church Fr. Shaw quivered with emotion, some thought he
was having
another bout of Malaria, but Mrs Murphy knew the real reason.
The four
Gavins sat in the bench behind Mrs Murphy and family, they were
taking no
chances after the false alarm, as for Mrs Murphy she had Sid's
gleaming
cleaver in her shoping bag.
On the
street Patrick had resumed his vigil with Amjit.
"He's
making us sweat because he didn't get his money last time , but
we're
already this time, Smiling Paul gave me £10,000 in cash , he
pushed it
through my letter box with a note , " Patrick tapped the
envelope on
the counter in front of him.
"Do you
think he'll give Jaswinder back to us? " Amjit's eyes were
pleading.
"Of
course he will, he's probably fed up by now, all he wants is money
then he'll
disappear," Patrick told Amjit what he wanted to hear, there
was no point
in sending Amjit over the edge.
Every ten
minutes Balbinder came out to look at the phone a question on
her lips,
"has it rung": it was getting all too much for Patrick, he
could see
his friends cracking up in front of him, if only his mother was
here she'd
think of something, if Amjit could hold out till Barry came
then he'd be
ok. Patrick felt useless, like a stranger at somebody else’s
funeral, he
didn't know what to do, what to say.
"Come
on, we're going to Mark's to see how the preparations for Sheila's
Christening
is going, we can sample the Christening cake, perhaps he'll
let me lick
the mixing bowl, " Patrick didn't know why he said it , it
just came
out.
Amjit and
Balbinder just looked at him weakly, they felt as if they were
being
tickled while they were weak and ill, they were almost too weak to
answer.
"Yes,
go to Mark's I can answer the phone, go, go, " chided old Mr
Amjit.
"Are
you sure? I don't know, " Amjit felt weak, he felt as if he was
deserting
his post.
"Do as
your old dad says, you must get some fresh air, go to Mark's I
will fetch
you if the phone rings, " old Mr Amjit almost pushed his son
out of the
shop.
So it was
that Amjit, Balbinder and Patrick came into Mark's
just as he
was putting down the mixing bowl.
"Don't
wash that, I'm going to lick it, " shouted Patrick reaching for
it.
Gillian spun
around when she heard his voice, then seeing Balbibnder she
rushed to
embrace her , Mark poured the teas topping them up with
Calvadose.
Old Michael came in for a warming cuppa, he joined the huddle
which tried
to warm Amjit and Balbinder. George and Brownie came in a few
minutes
after that, Brownie hugged Balbinder for all her worth, then she
sat down
next to her holding her hand and whispering words of
encouragement
. Then as one they fell silent, a silent vigil , only
broken by
Michael spitting in his handkerchief.
Half an hour
later the door opened, Henry shut it quickly
behind him,
the dark clouds had started to fall as heavy rain.
"It’s
terrible weather this, almost as bad as the other day, can I have a
piece of
cake with my tea, Mark, " asked Henry as he stamped his feet
together.
"How's
life treating you then, " asked Mark as he put the tea and cake
on the
counter.
"I'm
fine , though this rain and damp d£s get on my chest , " Henry
cleared his
throat before sipping his tea.
"Yes
the weather can be bad," observed Mark looking out the window.
"It’s
drivers who are bad, I could have been killed the other day , "
began Henry
as he tried the cake.
"How
come?"asked Patrick putting down the mixing bowl he'd been licking.
"I was
helping out the dustcart crew, we had had this storm like, you'd
think people
would drive slowly in a storm but not this guy, God alone
knows how he
didn't hit us," Henry finished off his cake.
"Where
was this?" asked Michael.
"Over
by O'Toole Park on the other side of town, " Henry picked up his
tea to drink
it.
Patrick leap
forward knocking the mixing bowl off the table, he grabbed
Henry's arm,
"Did you see the car?"
"Of course
I did, it was a yellow Datsun GDB 874M, the daft bugger could
have killed
us, he was driving like a madman, he was swearing and
everything,
his face was red with anger, it matched the colour of his
hair, he had
a duffle coat on too, I won't forget his face, I thought
it'd be the
last thing I'd see on this earth, the stupid bastard could
have killed
us," Henry finished off his tea.
Patrick and
Amjit raced out of the cafe up the road through all the rain
to Percy's
Undertakers. Andy had been washing the Rolls when the rain
came down so
he got inside of it to avoid getting wet, Patrick leapt into
the
passenger seat.
"Where's
Percy, where's your dad?" Patrick's eyes were bulging.
"He's
gone to pick up a deceased he'll be back soon," stammered Andy.
"Shit
!" swore Amjit.
"Tell
him we'll be in Mark's, we've got the registration number, it’s a
yellow
Datsun GDB 874M, " Patrick banged the dashboard, their one last
hope and
Percy wasn't there,
Dejectedly
Patrick and Amjit started to walk back to Mark's , out the
corner of
his eye Amjit could see Roger sheltering from the rain in Sid's
doorway.
"He'll
help us !" Amjit ran towards Roger.
Amjit
hussled Roger inside Sid's shop. Patrick at his heels.
"Look
Roger, you just have to help us. Can you trace a yellow Datsun
registration
GDB 874M, it’s very important, " panted Amjit.
Roger had
back tracked from Amjit's advances only to find himself walking
into Sid, he
was now in a sandwich, Sid on one side, Amjit and Patrick
on the
other.
"Yes,
of course I can, I can just saunter into the Police station use
the computer
just like you use the games the amusement arcade," answered
Roger
bitchily.
"Look
we have no time to waste, Sid it’s the car, we can trace the
bastard
now," explained Amjit.
"In
that case, " Sid went into the deep freeze in seconds he returned
with a whole
pig, the one with the crushed face, "have I ever shown you
my party
trick?"
Sid reach
under the counter for the biggest cleaver he had, Roger tried
to run away
but Amjit held him fast. Holding the pig aloft Sid raised the
cleaver and
in one blow chopped the head off the pig, the head flew off
and slid
along the floor till it hit Roger's feet.
"He
wouldn't ? " Roger looked at Amjit, then Patrick , then the
menacing
Sid.
"Trace
that number or you're next, you have two minutes !" shouted Sid.
Amjit let go
of Roger, Roger fled in terror, Sid shook the cleaver and
shouted
again ,"two minutes."
"Thanks
Sid, we'll go and tell everybody, we'll be in Mark's," said
Patrick as
he left the butchers.
Amjit nearly
had the door off the hinges as he ran into Mark's.
"Roger's
getting the address now, then we'll be on our way, " blurted
out Amjit,
he gave Balbinder a hug and whispered in her ear.
"Sid
persuaded Roger to help, it’s all over now bar the shouting ,
Jaswinder
will be free !" Patrick wanted to leap and shout with joy, but
he waited,
he had to wait, just a little longer.
There was a
gust of wind the cafe door opened, hairy Amjit howled and
howled
again.
"How
did you get out? I thought you were in your shed?" Patrick patted
the dog.
The dog went
and licked Balbinder's feet, then he sat down beside her,
he could
sense the tension, he rubbed his nose against Balbinder , he
tried to
cheer her up. The cafe door opened again, Sid was standing
there a
piece of paper in his hand .
"I've
got it ! We can get Jaswinder now !" Sid was beaming.
Hairy Amjit
began to howl, his tail shot up, his ears strained.
"What's
the address, where is my baby, where is Jaswinder?" Balbinder
croaked
snatching the piece of paper from Big Sid.
Again hairy
Amjit howled, he howled again and again and again.
"Fairview
Gardens, flat 5, Bishops Gate," Balbinder read it aloud.
"I've
never heard of it," sighed Patrick in desperation.
"Nor
me," said George.
"Nor
me," echoed Brownie.
"Nor
me, what about you?" wondered Mark.
"Not me
either, " answered Gillian nervously toying with her wedding
ring.
Balbinder
began to cry, so near yet so far, hairy Amjit began to howl to
yap to bark.
Michael came back from the toilet still pulling up his
braces, he
reached into his pocket for his handkerchief, then spat into
it.
"What's
the matter?" he asked.
"We
have the address, we know where Jaswinder is, but we don't know
where the
address is," Patrick banged the counter, it wasn't fair, it
wasn't fair.
Hairy Amjit
howled, he howled for his friend Jaswinder. Michael took
the piece of
paper with the address on, he looked at it, he spat in his
handkerchief
again before speaking.
"I know
it, it’s on page 35 of the A to Z, by a wood," Michael put the
paper back
on the counter.
Hairy Amjit
howled, there was no stopping him now, no amount of threats
from Patrick
could stop him. His tail had been down for a week , he'd
been as
quiet as a cat for all that time, but now he was a dog again, so
he howled
and howled.
"Who's
got an A to Z," shouted Sid above the hairy Amjit's howling.
"There's
no time for that, Michael it’s up to you, take us there ! "
Patrick was
pushing and shoving Michael out the door.
Amjit kissed
Balbinder, old Mr Amjit patted Amjit on the back, then with
a final look
back Amjit raced after Patrick. With a leap and a howl hairy
Amjit
followed, he was not going to be left behind.
"No, go
home !" Patrick swore at his dog.
But the dog
would not leave the taxi, Michael settled the arguement by
moving off,
to the sounds of howling the taxi went on it’s way. It was up
to Michael
now, it was up to Michael, he spat out his taxi window, it
was all or
nothing now. Because of him they'd not found Jaswinder before,
he'd lost
the Datsun, he'd failed, he hadn't kept up, he had failed,
he had
failed. Now was his chance to stop being a failure, the traffic
lights ahead
were changing to red, Michael began to slow, hairy Amjit
howled,
Patrick groaned, Amjit died again, Michael had his hand on the
gears ready
to change down. But he did not, he changed up, his foot
pressed
down, right down to the floor. They shot through the red, as
far as
Michael was concerned all the traffic lights would say green , it
was green
all the way now, he spat out the window. The lights were with
him all the
way now, red, amber, or green, all were green, all were
green, they
had to be, for Jaswinder's sake they were all green now ,
red, amber,
or green they were all green now. Michael could feel the
dog's warm
breath on his neck, urging him on, urging him on, as the
lights went
red hairy Amjit howled and Michael's foot went to the floor ,
the lights
were green, the lights were green. Hairy Amjit howled, he
howled his
greeting, his howl was his calling card , he was coming
acalling on
Jaswinder, he was coming for Jaswinder, he was coming for
Jaswinder,
again he howled, again he howled, again Michael's foot went
to the
floor, again Michael's foot went to the floor. And on they drove
through the
rain, the rain came down, the rain came down, the clouds
had finally
burst, the rain came down, the rain came down. But on they
drove, and
on they drove, and on they drove.
Percy
returned with a deceased, he splashed through the back
into the
courtyard behind, Bill came running out to help him unload the
body. Percy
thanked Bill then went into the office, his mind was not on
his duties,
all his thoughts were with Jaswinder. One of her pigtails
had been cut
off, perhaps she was dead, perhaps the body would be found
and then
he'd have to perform the last duties, the duties an undertaker
does for the
dead. Percy was standing in front the portrait of his
grandfather,
he looked up, the eyes were so alive, old Donald Frost had
been a great
man, Percy could remember how he read poetry to him when he
was just a
child.
"Dad,
dad, they have the car registration, they're all in Mark's,"
said Andy as
he rushed into the office.
"Good ,
" Percy snatched at something from the table in front of his
grandfathers
picture as he raced out the office.
Percy ran
through the rain down the street towards the cafe , his eyes
were ablaze,
his eyes were his grandfather's. Thunder rumbled in the
distance,
the rain came down, the rain came down, but on ran Percy, on
till he
reached the cafe. A gust of wind opened the cafe door before him,
the
lightning flashed, Percy was framed in the door, he had come, he
had come to
do his duty. Brownie looked up in shock to see Percy standing
in the
doorway, he had something in his hand too .
"Give
me the car registration, then with one phone call I'll have the
address, I
have friends," Percy moved forward trailing something in his
hand.
"We
know where it is, but we don't know where it is, is, " explained
Big Sid as
he struggled with an A to Z.
"Shit,
page 35 is missing," groaned Mark.
"What's
the address?" commanded Percy.
"Fairview
Gardens, flat 5, Bishops Gate," said Gillian, as she toyed
nervously
with her wedding ring.
"I know
it ! Sid are you ready?" Percy sounded like a Freemason.
Sid looked
Percy in the eye, he was ready, "Yes !"
Without
another word the two left the cafe, what would be would be, and
they were
ready. From inside the cafe everybody could see Big Sid and
Percy shake
hands, then Percy raised the something in his hand , he
raised it
high then brought it down fast.
" Andy,
we ride ! " shouted Percy as he cracked the whip, Percy cracked
his
grandfather's whip, the Frost whip.
Together Big
Sid and Percy ran to the hearse, in seconds they were away,
Andy
followed at their heels driving the Rolls, Bill was at Andy's side,
Bill had
saved Andy's life now the four were out to save the life of a
child. Sid
could see the fire in Percy's eyes, the same fire that was in
Andy's eyes,
the fire that was in grandfather Donald Frost's eyes, the
same fire
that Percy had when he rode his coach at the Siege Of Old Forge
and Sinding
Anvil, the fire which had raised the Frosts from common
gravediggers
to respected undertakers. But Big Sid knew if the worse came
to the worse
, today they'd be gravediggers , gravediggers for a
kidnapper.
And on
hurtled Percy, sixty, seventy, eighty, ninety, one
hundred, one
hundred and ten, one hundred and twenty. There were no red
lights for
coach drivers, no lights at all, the lightning flashed and
the thunder
roared. Sid looked at the whip lying on the dashboard , it
was like a
coiled rattle snake ready to strike, sliding one way then
another as
Percy drove. Sid could feel the electricity, the tingling up
and down his
spine, he could feel the hairs rising on the back of his
hand , the
spirit’s were abroad. In the rear view mirror Sid could see
Andy in the
Rolls, his eyes ablaze, just like Percy's his father.
Back at the
cafe Mrs Murphy arrived , sheltering under an
umbrella ,
the four Gavins formed a human umbrella around June and baby
Sheila,
Mathew brought up the rear. Everybody looked shocked, why were
they here,
and now.
"I want
a milk shake, a banana one, and a strawberry one for Jaswinder,
here I've
got money," announced Mathew.
"But
but," stammered Mark, leaning on his counter.
"He
didn't sleep at all last night, he said he'd have a milkshake with
Jaswinder,
he made us come here after Mass," began Mrs Murphy.
"We
know where Jaswinder is, Patrick and Amjit left minutes ago, Percy
followed
with Big Sid," whispered Gillian.
"Great
! " smiled Mrs Murphy, but she slid her hand into her pocket, in
seconds the
frog began to jump as Mrs Murphy started to say her rosary.
"Can I
have my milkshake then, and one for Jaswinder too ? " asked
Mathew.
Gillian
prepared the milkshake, she felt useless all she could do was
make a
milkshake, and out there in the storm Jaswinder's life was on the
line . Fr.
Shaw came in, all in black, like a crow ready to pick the
worms from a
freshly dug grave, Gillian shivered. Mrs Murphy now stood
next to old
Mrs Amjit, they exchanged smiles, both without missing a
beat to
their prayers. Gillian wanted to scream.
Keith
Butterfield and Mick Bisiker from the Bell and Pump
decided to
pull in and have a cuppa, the weather was bad, they'd have a
refreshing
cuppa then they'd be on their way. So clutching their guitars
they went
inside Mark's cafe.
"Two
teas please, oh do you want one as well? " Mick turned to ask
Keith.
"Yes ,
I'll have one, " said Keith as he blew his nose .
"Three
teas then," smiled Mick.
"Who's
the other tea for?" asked Mathew as he slurped his milkshake.
"Ever
since the accident I always have two teas, but what about you
you've got
two milkshakes?" Mick pointed.
"I'm
expecting a friend," answered Mathew.
Before Mick
could ask any more questions Gillian had ushered Keith and
Mick to a
table.
"Ah,
this teas good," said Mick wiping the froth from his moustache.
"How do
you want the sound for that new song, A Nation Of Shopkeepers,
that fancy
thing you've done," asked the ever practical Keith.
"Well,
if you can give me," began Mick.
Michael
could see the sign for Bishops Gate ahead , he slowed
down as he
went through his final red light.
"There
that's it up ahead, it’s up to you now lads," Michael pointed.
"We'll
be back in five minutes," shouted Patrick.
Howling for
all he was worth hairy Amjit dragged Patrick along , Michael
had lent his
tie to form a sort of lead for him. When they reached the
right
building Patrick slapped Amjit's snout, they had to be silent now.
Michael
could see them race into the building, he felt so useless, just
like an
observer, he felt old and useless. If only he could help, if
only he
could help. He found himself picking up the radio in his cab,
"Hello,
this is Michael, I'm at Fairview Gardens, Bishops Gate, I'm
calling a
29288," Michael spat, then switched off his radio.
A 29288
meant driver in trouble needs assistance, he knew he shouldn't
have done
it, he'd let the cat out the bag, but he had to, he had to.
"Hello,
this is control, say again please"
The
manager's ears were pricked, he leant over the radio girl taking the
microphone
from her, " Hello this is control, is that you Michael, say
again
Michael, " but there was no reply, Michael had switched his
radio off.
The manager
ran to the rest room," move it, Michael's called a 29288,
he's at
Fairview Gardens, Bishops Gate."
The seven
drivers all jumped up and dashed out, they were doing sixty
when they
got to the speed bumps at the end of the road : the manager
dashed back
to the radio room, he was sweating, what was the matter with
Michael ,
" Hello, this is Big Dick here, listen the lot of you ,
Michael has
called a 29288, he's at Fairview Gardens, Bishops Gate, so
move it
!"
Big Dick sat
down and wiped his forehead, if anything had happened to
Michael
they'd be Hell to pay, and it'd be all his fault, he lit a
cigarette.
The seven
soon became twenty seven as the radio alert was heard, Michael
was a legend
in the taxi world, other taxi firms joined in too, they'd
accidently
heard the message, they'd help too. On they raced through the
mud and
rain, while back at the office Big Dick tried frantically to
raise
Michael on the radio.
Gillian was
feeling helpless too, what if the kidnapper got
away, she
saw three taxis race past outside their lights blazing. The
CB crackled
behind her, it was one of the drivers making an order ,
telling her
to put the kettle on he'd soon be "home".
"Allo
C'est Henri, J'arrive."
Gillian
looked at Balbinder the tears in check, Mrs Murphy and old Mrs
Amjit were
like flying buttresses supporting her, and what was she doing,
making teas,
teas and sympathy, that was not enough. Gillian's womb
boiled, it
grew hot, till it couldn't be contained no more, it flowed
over. Only a
woman can really know the pain, the hurt of children, a
woman , a
mother shares her children’s pain, would there ever be joy
again. The
damn burst, Gillian's womb exploded in watched pain, she had
to do
something . Snatching at the radio, her womb burst over the
airwaves.
"Help
stop thief, a yellow Datsun," she screamed in French, in Spanish
and Italian
.
Mark looked
on in horror, but Gillian had a knife in her hand, her womb
was
speaking, her womb was crying, her womb was full of hope as she
asked for
help. She told her drivers to block the roads around Bishops
Gate, a
thief had stolen her wedding ring. Mark took the receiver away
from her ,
Gillian let the knife fall to the ground , he knew he
understood,
it was all or nothing now. And old Mrs Amjit and Mrs Murphy
prayed on.
Patrick
followed Amjit up the stairs, up and around, up and
around , up
and around. Till they came to flat five, for a second
Patrick did
not know what to do, Amjit gave him an answer as he kicked
the door off
the hinges. Sue screamed in shock, Martin looked startled
as hairy
Amjit began to howl, Martin grabbed Jaswinder by her remaining
pigtail and
dragged her into the bedroom slamming and locking the door
after him.
"I'll
kill her, I'll kill her I have a knife," screaming Martin.
"Don't
hurt her I'll pay," begged Amjit.
"Daddy
!" screamed Jaswinder.
"Let's
rush him , " urged Patrick ready to kick the next door down
himself.
"I'll
kill her I have a knife, I'll kill her I have a knife," screamed
Martin like
a cornered rat, Jaswinder screamed in terror.
Amjit knew a
cornered man was at his most dangerous, so he held Patrick
back.
"I'll
pay, I'll pay just give me back my daughter," pleaded Amjit.
There was
silence from inside, then Martin spoke, " let me think just
give me time
to think."
"Ok, ok
you have all the time in the world, just don't hurt my daughter,
I'll give
you whatever you ask," begged Amjit his breathing heavy.
"Ok, ok
just give me time to think," yelled Martin, holding Jaswinder
by the
throat, his knife at the ready.
The lorry
drivers heard the call, and they answered as they
descended on
Bishops Gate, the air waves echoed to their shouts , each
would take a
separate road, once there they would block it. The taxis
were flying
too, from all parts of Old Forge And Singing Anvil and beyond
they came.
Old Michael was in trouble, the last from him was the sound
of him
spitting, and then his radio went dead. Passengers demanded where
they were
going, only to be told they were going the quick way, and shut
up this ride
was free, as the taxis hit ninety.
There was
still silence from Martin, Amjit was getting worried
what was
happening to his daughter?
"Jaswinder
!" he yelled, there was no sound from behind the door.
Patrick put
his ear to the door , then he looked through the keyhole but
the key was
in the lock so he couldn't see much.
"Jaswinder
!" screamed Amjit his fears overcoming him.
Patrick
kicked down the door, his dog leapt forward howling for his
friend. The
window was open, they dashed to look out of it, all they
could see
was Martin hobbling away dragging Jaswinder after him . He'd
climbed down
the fire escape, falling the last few feet.
"Come
on the stairs is quicker, go on boy find Jaswinder," urged Patrick
as the three
of them ran out the room .
Sue was left
on the floor clutching her stomach, all the excitement had
induced
labour, her baby was ready to be born. Down the stairs they ran
down and
around, down and around, down and around, hairy Amjit howling
all the way.
Michael could see them dash out the house and around the
back towards
the woods.
Percy
slowed, over the next hill and they were there , he
could see
Michael's taxi ahead, he slammed on the brakes, his whip slid
off the
dashboard and fell onto Big Sid lap. Sliding to a halt Percy
grabbed his
whip from Sid then ran over to Michael, as for Sid he brought
out his
favourite cleaver, he joined Percy by Michael's taxi.
"They've
gone into the woods, but what if he doubles back and looks for
his
car?" wondered Michael.
"Leave
it to me, " Sid said as he dashed off in search of a yellow Datsun .
Andy and
Bill arrived, they chased after Percy into the woods. Sid soon
found the
Datsun, with a scream Sid slashed all the tires , then he
thought what
if he still tries to drive away. So bending down Big Sid
reached
under the car, then with a mighty heave he turned it over ,
Martin
couldn't drive it now could he. Sid lumbered off into the woods,
the Datsun
was left like an upended turtle.
In the woods
the chase was on, no more sitting by a phone
waiting for
it to ring, no more dying deaths. Hairy Amjit howled ,
Martin was
his prey, but then a crack and a flash of grey. A squirrel
dashed out
in front, hairy Amjit ran after it, squirrels were fun,
great fun to
chase.
"You
stupid bastard dog, my mom was right you're only good for eating ,
you stupid
bastard dog," cursed Patrick.
"Look
there's something ahead !" Amjit pointed.
They raced
into the gloom ahead, "Daddy !", screamed Jaswinder.
They
couldn't tell where the sound came from, there was a crack of a
branch
ahead, they spurted forward.
"Oh
Shit !, it’s only you Sid," cursed Patrick.
"Daddy
!" echoed through the trees.
They dashed
towards the sound, Sid had his cleaver at the ready, he chop
his head off
if Jaswinder was hurt, that was for sure.
Percy did
not run, he stalked his prey, he walked slowly and
listened,
his whip at the ready. He took another step ahead, his foot
stood on
something , he bent down to pick it up . It was one of
Jaswinder's
bangles, Percy put it in his pocket, he was on the right
track. Up
ahead was a clearing, a Midsummer's Night’s Dream had once been
played there
years before, but this was more like a nightmare.
Martin
dragged Jaswinder after him, slapping her to make her
quiet, he
put his hand over her mouth to quieten her, perhaps he should
kill her,
that'd put them of his trail. No she wriggled too much, he'd
just get rid
of the wog bitch, he'd tie her to a tree in the clearing
ahead,
they'd soon find her.
"There
he is, in the clearing !" screamed Andy.
"Yes
it’s him," echoed Bill.
From another
direction came Patrick and Amjit, they had him surrounded,
Sid came
lumbering up from the rear. Jaswinder could see her father.
"Daddy,
daddy !" she screamed.
Martin spun
around dropping his scarf, the one he was going to tie her up
with.
"I've
got a knife I'll kill her !" he yelled more in fear of his own life
that a
threat on Jaswinder's.
He fumbled
in his pocket for the knife, he held it on her cheek right
next to the
eye. It was stalemate, Martin was surrounded by Patrick and
Amjit on the
left with Andy and Bill on the right. And the rain came down,
and the rain
came down, more help was on its way, the sound of taxis
their horns
sounding could be heard. The cavalry was on its way, but it
was no use,
Martin had a knife against her cheek, one slip and her eye
would be
out. Sid came lumbering and screaming out the forest , his
cleaver held
high.
"NO !
SID NO !" screamed Patrick jumping in the way then grappling with
Sid.
Sid wanted
to kill Martin then and there, for a full minute Patrick
struggled to
bring Sid's arm down, finally reason saw the day .
"Tell
him to drop it or I'll kill her, I will !" screamed Martin now in
mortal fear
of his life.
Reluctantly,
very reluctantly Sid dropped his cleaver.
"Bastard
!Hiding behind a child !" Sid screamed as Patrick held him fast.
"Look
give me back my child, you can have your money, " Amjit reached
into his
pocket and threw a wad of notes at Martin.
Martin's
eyes lit up, as the notes fell at his feet, he was rich, he
was rich. He
loosened his grip on Jaswinder. It was then that the rattle
snake
struck, Percy lashed out with his whip, sending Martin's knife
flying. At
the same moment hairy Amjit leapt teeth first, with a howl
and a leap,
but especially his teeth he leapt. Martin's right hand felt
as it it was
on fire from where Percy's whip had hit him, so he raised
his left to
protect himself from hairy Amjit. But it was no use , Amjit
had his
revenge for the time at the children's fair , Amjit had his
revenge on
Martin. He tore into Martin, biting to the bone , letting
loose he
howled his victory before biting again.
"Help,
help, he's killing me ! " screamed Martin as he fought for his
life.
"Daddy,
daddy, I missed you," Jaswinder hugged her father for all she
was worth.
And on
howled hairy Amjit, as he bit and snapped at Martin, his duffle
coat was now
in shreds .
"Daddy
I'm afraid, make him stop," Jaswinder covered her eyes from the
blood-letting.
Amjit hugged
his daughter, he soothed her, she was safe, she was safe,
thats was
all that mattered. Hairy Amjit howled again, he howled in
triumphant,
his little friend was safe, his little friend was safe, and
biting
baddies was much more fun than chasing squirels.
"Stop
it, call him off," Amjit shouted to make his voice heard.
"He
deserves it !" snapped Patrick.
"Stop
call the dog off, he'll never do it again, call the dog off, "
again Amjit
shouted above Martin's screams and the howling dog.
Percy raised
his whip and cracked it above hairy Amjit's head , "Sit ,
come here
boy, sit" Percy sounded like a lion tamer, and he needed too
this lion
had gone wild.
"Sit
boy down, come to uncle Sid, " urged Big Sid seeing that hairy
Amjit was
reluctant.
Taking a
final nip at Martin, hairy Amjit went and sat down at Sid's feet
, then began
to lick the handle of his meat cleaver.
"You
are banished from Old Forge and Singing Anvil, leave, " commanded
Percy
pointing with his whip. He cracked it above Martin's head to speed
him on his
way. "If I ever see you again, I'll kill you, I'll kill you
I'll kill
you," Percy cracked his whip again and again and again.
"And
I'll bury you !" boomed Sid, the thunder to Percy's lightning.
"Quick,
lets get out of here, before the police come !" urged Patrick.
So they ran
from the woods, Amjit carrying the prize, the game
was won,
they had the prize, they had the little Indian Princess, Amjit
had his
daughter Jaswinder, safe and sound. As they emerged from the
woods taxis
slid and slithered to a halt all around them , the cavalry
were there,
but thank God they weren't needed.
"Are
you all right Michael, are you alright Michael?" asked Johnny the
first to
arrive.
Michael
looked over Jonny's shoulder, he could see Jaswinder, she was
alive, she
was alive. Michael felt quite faint, he reached for his asthma
inhaler and
took some.
"I just
came over funny but I'm fine now, I'll be ok, see my friends,
my family
are coming, see they are coming, " Michael pointed to Amjit
and
Jaswinder, to Patrick and Big Sid, to Andy and Bill and to Percy
with his
whip held high.
Johnny
looked around, they were all smiling they were all laughing ,
Michael
began to cry, it was too much for him. He'd driven the race of
his life,
he'd been in time, he'd beaten time itself, Jaswinder was
alive, Jaswinder
was safe, he'd won the race. Patrick came and shook
hands with
Michael.
"You
did it Michael, you did it Michael, everything’s ok, everything’s
just
fine," Patrick squeezed the life from Michael's hand.
"Are
you ok? " asked Johnny on behalf of the mast ranks of the taxi
drivers.
"Yes
I'm fine now, Patrick here will drive my taxi, I'll get a lift from
Percy
here," Michael pointed to Percy.
"Yes,
jump in the Rolls Andy will drive you back home, come on quick now
or we'll all
catch a cold in this rain," smiled Percy.
So after
telling all the drivers in turn that he was fine now , Michael
got in the
Rolls and sat next to Amjit and Jaswinder, to ride home in
style. Percy
and Sid shook hands, "You'd make a great butcher," said
Sid.
"And you'd make a great undertaker, " said Percy. Then holding
back their
heads they laughed, they laughed till they cried, real men
crying like
children, because a child was safe, a child was alive.
The taxis
raced away, like a fanfare of fireworks, their irate
passengers
nagging them from behind, but as the drivers said, it would
be quicker
this way, the scenic route, and so it was, going ninety nine
and on the
pavement at times. Andy drove with his foot to the floor ,
this time
his father followed him, he had to get Jaswinder home to her
mother, to
end a mother's tears. He not gone far when he braked suddenly
a lorry was
blocking the road, the driver looked angry, Andy was sure
he had a
shotgun in his hands.
"He HAS
got a gun," Andy slowed and stopped.
Patrick
pulled up behind, the taxi screeched to a halt , hairy Amjit
howling in
his ear. Percy put his head out the window to see what was up
"It's
Jacques, he one of Mark's continentals, " Percy leapt out the
hearse to
remonstrate.
"I stop
here, Gillian say somebody has stolen her jewels, he has a
yellow
Datsun, I stop here," explained Jacques.
"But WE
have the jewels, " Percy pulled Jaswinder's bangle from his
pocket, he'd
explian things later, for now this would do.
"I
don't understand she said it was a ring, " Jacques took his beret off
and put it
back on again.
"Give
me your radio," Percy climbed into the cab, it was as high as the
old coaches
his grandfather used to drive, Percy could feel his throat go
tight and
dry as he pressed the transmit button, he took a deep breath.
"This is
Percy here, " he stopped again to catch his breath, he wiped a
tear away
then he spoke, then he spoke, " Percy here, we have the
Jewels , we
have the jewels, repeat we have the jewels, we have the
little
Indian Princess, Jaswinder is free, Jaswinder is safe ! We are
coming home
!" Percy dropped the radio.
Jacques
looked up at him, his finger on the trigger.
"We've
just saved Jaswinders life," whispered Percy.
Jacques
fired his gun into the air, both barrels.
"Come
on Jcaques, move your lorry, let’s get home," Percy leapt from the
cab, a final
flash of lightning capturing him as he leapt.
As for
Martin, he hobbled back to the flat and started throwing
some clothes
into a bag, he was off, he was emigrating. He ignored
Sue's pleas
for a doctor, it was her fault that she was pregnant , it
probably
wasn't his anyway, so thank you and goodnight. A neighbour had
heard all
the noise and breaking doors, so had called the police , the
police took
a while in coming what with all the false alarms caused by the
bad weather.
As Sgt. Mulholland raced up the stairs to flat five, Martin
was saying
thank you and goodnight.
"Hey
hang on a sec, do you live here?" said the sergeant.
"Who me
no," answered Martin as he ducked past the sergeant and out into
the landing.
"Hey
come back, why are you all covered in blood? " the sergeant ran
after the
suspect.
Sue screamed
out in pain, her baby was going to be born any second now.
"Hey
come back?" yelled the sergeant.
Martin
carried on running, at that moment somebody opened their door to
see what was
going on.
"Stop
him," yelled the sergeant.
The
neighbour put out a hand, Martin swerved to avoid being caught, but
he tripped
on his tattered duffle coat. Tripped and fell, tripped and
fell was
what the autopsy would say. Sgt. Mulholland could see Martin fall
down and
around, down and around, down and around, he knew his neck was
broken ,
there was no point in checking for a pulse. Sue screamed up
above, duty
called, the dead would have to look after themselves, he
had to help
deliver a baby, a new life, a fresh start, Martin was dead,
it was all
over for him.
"Percy
here, we have the jewels," the rest of his message was
drown out by
the cheers. Mrs Murphy and old Mrs Amjit were no longer the
supporting
flying buttresses, no, the buttresses flew into the air with
joy.
"She's
safe, she's safe !" screamed Mrs Murphy, here Kerry Head accent
shouting the
sea down.
Mick Bisiker
nearly fainted with the shock, Keith the soundman looked
around, what
was the demented woman going on about.
"Will
you give us a tune lads, seeing as you have your guitars with you I
mean it’s
not much to ask, see I'll give you a sweet , " Mrs Murphy
reached into
her shopping bag and put the borrowed meat cleaver on the
table so she
could find her boiled sweets.
"Yes
give us a tune," said the Gavin twins as one.
"Can I
have another milkshake now that Jaswinder is coming home, " asked
Mathew.
"You
can have a million," smiled Gillian.
After taking
all of two seconds to decide that "no" was not a good answer
to give a
little old Irish lady with a meat cleaver and four very large
sons, Mick
and Keith, half of the Stones as they were know on the Folk
scene took
out their guitars and played.
"Two
teas for you, and one for the sexy soundman," said Gillian.
"And
here's the sugar, " added Mark as he put a full bottle of calvedos
on the
table.
"I
suppose I could sing you the new song, I was saving it for the Bell
and Pump,
but somehow I thing Ian Campbell and Aiden Forde will have to
cover,
" mumbled Mick into his moustache, well at least the sugar was
good.
Over the
horizon, eighteen wheelers were joining the procession,
they hooted
their horns, their headlamps lit up the twilight. The circus
was coming
to town, the circus was coming top town, and tonight for one
night only
the undertaker would be the clown, he had his whip ready, his
hand was
steady , the circus was coming to town. And so it was ,
Jaswinder
was safe so tonight, they'd all party.
The Rolls
pulled up quietly at Mark's door , Balbinder was
standing in
the doorway waiting for the waiting to end. The door opened
and
Jaswinder skipped out, hairy Amjit howled, Balbinder kissed her
daughter,
the party could begin.
"Well I
suppose it'd be alright to eat the food you prepared for little
Sheila's
christening, " sighed Mrs Murphy before throwing another sweet
at Mick
Bisiker.
"We've
started doing that already to be honest," laughed Gillian.
"I
blame Patrick, he makes a baby before he makes somebody his wife, now
he has a
Christening reception before a Christening, he's cat all togther
that's all I
can say, " continued Mrs Murphy before throwing a sweet at
Keith the
sound man.
The party
went with a swing , Wayne rolled out a barrel
literally,
the lorry drivers brought out weird and wonderful instruments
and began
playing. One came from Provinance, where all the folk songs
come from so
naturally he got on really well with Mick and Keith . One
very tired
lorry driver arrived late but he was made welcome, he sat down
next to
Barry and Mrs Murphy.
"You
look tired , have you been on the road long?" asked Mrs Murphy as
she handed
Barry a sweet.
"Yes ,
I've been on the road a very long time, nine days in fact , "
replied the
little Indian with the shining smile.
"And
where do you come from?" asked Mrs Murphy .
"Calcutta."
The End
*************************
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC
This remains my COPYRIGHT.
*************************
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael-Casey/e/B00571G0YC
This remains my COPYRIGHT.
Well that’s
it, the 1st chapter of the follow up novel is written and plotted by
about
50percent. Tears for a Butcher will continue the story, it’s on funny or
die, 10,000
views already for ½ of chapter 1 , the rest I still have to write.
So buy some
books on Amazon Kindle, just look for Michael Casey and my face.
http://butcherbakerundertaker.blogspot.co.uk/
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