Dangerous Games

by Gillian Godden

  Antonias was doing well at college, and had nearly finished his course.

  Jake was more studious. He had wanted to go into teaching, but then thought better of it and decided to try bookkeeping, instead.

  Alongside all this, they worked for the bossman; the money was rolling in.

  Things turned nasty, one day, when they went to collect from a pub they had been in many times before. Antonias suddenly felt uneasy. He looked at Jake and frowned.

  They walked up to the bar as normal, but all the while, Antonias was looking around at the few men in there, having a drink. Something was definitely wrong; you could feel it in the air.

  Suddenly Antonias’s eyes stopped on one man. He was sitting at a table with a friend, and Antonias recognized him instantly.

  It was the man he had given his name to, on the night he had put him in the boot of the car, when he had been in the fight with Eddie.

  Antonias looked at Jake and discreetly pointed his thumb behind them, to the black man.

  They were now on their guard. They stood and watched as the two men walked up to the bar and stood beside them. The landlord seemed to be taking longer than ever to get his money together.

  The landlord put the money bag on the bar, then cast a glance at the two men. One reached out and put his hand on the bag.

  ‘Not so fast, pretty boy, that’s mine.’ He pulled out a knife and, with his other hand, held it to Antonias’s throat. The second man stood behind Jake; he had a knife pressed against his back.

  The other drinkers saw what was going on, and hurried out.

  Antonias looked calmly at the landlord. He seemed to be smiling at the scene before him, as though he was glad he and Jake were getting their comeuppance.

  ‘Take it,’ said Antonias, ‘it’s yours, if you want it that badly. I’m only the collector.’

  Recognition sparked in the man’s eyes. ‘Wait a minute, I know you, pretty boy, don’t I? You’re that Lambrianu bloke who shut me in the boot of a car, and parked it outside of my boss’s house, you bastard.’ The man’s voice was getting louder as his anger built, the memory of his humiliation still a festering sore. ‘Not so brave now, without your mates, are you?’ He was spitting as he spoke, his face a snarling mask of hatred.

  He picked up the money bag and, still with the knife pressed at Antonias’s throat, gave it a little jab, just enough to make it bleed.

  Antonias raised his knee and hit the man in the groin, then grabbed hold of the arm with the knife in it and shook it, until the weapon dropped on the floor. The man was howling and holding his groin.

  Jake pushed his elbow back into the ribs of the man standing behind him, then turned and punched him in the face. The man staggered back and fell. Jake walked up to him and kicked him in the face, then kicked the knife clear. It skittered across the floor and ended up under a table. He turned to look at Antonias. Jake’s jaw nearly dropped when he saw what he was doing.

  Antonias had his guy lying on his stomach on the floor. He had the knife in his hand and was using it to carve ‘Lambrianu’ into the man’s back. The man was howling and begging for mercy, the floor was covered in blood.

  Antonias shouted, trying to be heard above the screaming. ‘You won’t forget my fucking name again, will you? Show your boss that, asshole.’ He straightened up and looked across at Jake. ‘All done,’ he said. He walked over to where the second man lay on the floor. The man was winded, his face a mess, and Jake had his foot on his chest. ‘You have to finish the job, Jake,’ said Antonias. He took hold of the man’s arm and broke it. An audible snap was followed by a howl of pain.

  Jake said nothing; he had always known Antonias had a foul temper, but this was pure horror, it frightened him. He looked at Antonias’s blue eyes: they were dark blue, almost black. Gone were the charming sea-blue eyes, with the sparkle in them. They were Jekyll; this was Hyde.

  Antonias picked up the money bag and turned his eyes on the landlord. ‘You, in the back, now.’

  The landlord had wet himself; he hadn’t expected this kind of massacre in his pub. He did as he was told and went into the back room.

  ‘This is the bag of money for the bossman; is it all there?’ Antonias asked. He was strangely calm.

  The man nodded at him.

  ‘Good. Now I want another five hundred, as compensation for this.’

  Antonias could see the man was stunned. His mouth flapped, and then he started making up all kinds of excuses about how he couldn’t afford it. Antonias ignored him; he took out his gun and pointed it at the man.

  ‘Five hundred, you snivelling bastard. You set us up, and you will never do it again, do you hear me?’

  The landlord opened the safe, counted out the money and handed it to Antonias.

  ‘I’ll be telling the bossman about this. You’re stealing off him, as well, you know.’

  Antonias stayed very calm, he was almost charming, but his eyes were still dark and his face was flushed. He held up the money bag with the bossman’s money in. ‘This is for him,’ he said, then he picked up the five hundred pounds and added, ‘and this is for me.’ With that, he put his gun away, turned, and walked back into the pub, where Jake was waiting.

  Antonias saw that the pub was empty; the two men they had fought had gone. He looked directly at Jake.

  ‘Some guys came and took them away,’ Jake said. He saw Antony was carrying a wad of cash, as well as the bank bag.

  Antonias was covered in blood, and Jake had some on his hands and shoes, too. They couldn’t go anywhere like that, they would be seen and probably reported to the police.

  ‘Come on.’ Antonias remembered the twenty-four-hour toilets that all the homeless and dropouts used to wash themselves; he had washed there many times, himself. He knew they would be safe to clean themselves up, there, because on the streets, no one saw or heard anything; it was the code.

  Jake held his nose as he walked down the steps to go inside the toilets, the smell of urine filled the air.

  ‘For God’s sake, Antony, this place stinks, and it’s filthy. Look – there’s a sleeping bag down there, somebody lives here. Jesus Christ, it’s a hovel, not fit for pigs.’

  Antonias turned the rusty, mouldy taps and waited for the water to run clear, then started to wash.

  Jake didn’t have all that much blood on him and he cleaned up quickly.

  Antonias was drenched in it. He turned to Jake. ‘There’s a shop on the corner, go and buy us a shirt and a pair of tracksuit bottoms, will you?’

  Jake was grateful to leave. The place was a hellhole, it looked like the toilets hadn’t been flushed in years and there were no doors on the cubicles.

  Antonias washed his hands and face, and rinsed the knife under the tap. Someone came in and went to use the toilet. They didn’t acknowledge each other. Antonias looked around at the mouldy, cracked tiles on the walls. Many was the time he had felt safe, there. He had gone there to wash, and to sleep, when it was blowing a blizzard outside. This had been his home.

  Jake came back holding a shirt and the tracksuit bottoms. ‘This was all I could get,’ he said. He handed Antonias his new clothes, then waited in silence as he got changed.

  It was then Jake noticed there was a man sitting down in the cubicle, going to the toilet.

  ‘For God’s sake, Antony, let’s get out of here, this place is freaking me out, come on.’

  Jake ran up the steps, back to the fresh air of the streets. He turned to see if Antonias was following and he saw him take out twenty pounds and hand it to the man in the cubicle before he, too left the place.

  They walked to the corner of the next street. Antonias was holding the bundle of bloodstained clothes in one hand and he threw them into an old oil drum that had ashes in it, where someone had clearly had a fire, then put a match to them.

  Suddenly, it dawned on Jake that he had been there before. When Elle had driven Antonias around the streets, he had seen that old oil drum, with a bonfire burning in it. The homeles
s people used to stand around it to keep warm. Damn! Him and his big mouth. No wonder Antonias knew where to come to wash and clean up, without being noticed.

  Back in the car, Antonias started the engine, and was about to drive on, when Jake touched his arm.

  ‘You frightened me in there, Antony, you were crazy. That poor guy’s going to be scarred forever. Oh, and sorry, I’m sorry about what I said about those toilets. Maybe when we get some real money behind us, we could get the council or someone to fix the place up a bit, make it more hygienic, like.’

  Antonias looked at Jake and smiled; he was his usual self again. ‘It’s a shame I don’t have a shorter surname,’ he joked, then he turned serious. ‘Jake, you have to realise those guys were going to do the same to us, if not worse. They could have killed us.’ He put his hand to his throat; the bleeding had stopped, but the gesture wasn’t wasted; his throat could easily have been slashed open. ‘The toilets, maybe you’re right, maybe we could do something. You see, I always need my level-headed brother with me.’

  They drove back to the bossman’s club in the West End and gave him his money.

  ‘You look like there was a bit of trouble boys; everything okay?’ the bossman said.

  Antonias nodded and they waited, as usual, while he checked the money.

  When they were outside of the grubby little office, he said, ‘To me, Jake, that place makes those toilets look cleaner. Never forget, he chooses to live like that.’

  FAME AT LAST

  A couple of years passed, by which time Antonias had become a qualified mechanic and Jake was a bookkeeper – an accountant, as he liked to put it. Elle was proud of them both; they had done so well, and turned their lives around.

  They were renting a small flat above a shop. It wasn’t much, but Elle had insisted on working her magic and had cleaned it from top to bottom for them. By the time she had finished, it looked great.

  She made sure their fridge was full and, as Antonias had predicted, she did their washing and ironing.

  Antonias was in his element; this was ‘his’ place, somewhere of his own, plus, it was great to be able to take home the women they met, and not have to hurry up in the back of a car or wait until Elle was out.

  This was freedom, and many was the time that he and Jake took a couple of women back with them and had a party. They would swap and change women, get drunk, and have great fun.

  They were still working for the bossman. When he had heard that Antonias was good with cars, he had offered him a little sideline.

  ‘Sometimes, I deal in cars, Antony. We find them, give them a makeover and sell them on. Are you interested?’

  Antonias knew exactly what he meant. He meant he stole them, changed the plates, and then sold them; that was his offer.

  They agreed on a price and, as usual, Antonias brought Jake in on the deal – he never did anything without him. Even now, when he was charging the pubs a little extra, he split it with Jake.

  Jake often refused. To him, it seemed Antonias did all the thinking and most of the work, and he didn’t want Antonias to feel he had to cut Jake in.

  ‘Don’t insult me, Jake,’ Antonias said. Jake could see he had upset him – his eyes were changing colour. ‘You’re my brother; we live together, fuck together and we’ll probably die together – got it?’

  ‘Enough said,’ said Jake. It might not be the nicest way of putting it, but that was the best he was going to get.

  As it was, the car scam turned out to be pretty easy. The bossman gave them a list of the cars he wanted, and then Antonias would hot-wire them and drive them away to some old warehouse the boss had.

  Antonias, along with Jake, would change the number plates and chassis numbers, and once they were all done, the motors were ready to sell.

  The bossman paid well for this, but Antonias wasn’t happy; he begrudged handing over the cars for his boss to sell. ‘Why the hell are we doing all this and giving it all away to him, Jake? We could do this ourselves and take the lot,’ he said.

  ‘Shut up, Antony, someone will hear you. We don’t have the parts, or the contacts to sell them on to, that’s why.’

  Antonias looked at Jake and raised his right eyebrow. Jake had a point. Where did they go, who did buy these cars? Antonias was going to make damn sure he found out. For now, he settled on changing the subject.

  ‘How’s your girlfriend working out?’ he said. ‘You getting any, lately?’

  Jake had met a woman at college, while he was studying accountancy. Sharon was much cleverer than him, and she was pretty. He had been having trouble with some calculations, and she had offered to help him.

  Their friendship had started slowly. She helped him with his homework and they would sometimes go for a coffee. She was funny, she made him laugh. Antonias had told him to get on with it many times, but Sharon had given no indication to Jake that she wanted anything more from him than friendship.

  Up until then, Jake’s affairs had been very short – some lasted just long enough for him to pull his trousers up – but Sharon was different. Or she would be, if he could only move things on from them being ‘just good friends.’

  ‘No, I’m not, Antony,’ he said, ‘I leave that, and that monstrosity down your trousers, to get enough for both of us.’

  Antonias grinned. ‘Talking of that, I might just have something for you. It’s not cheating on Sharon, because you’re not officially a couple.’

  Jake gave Antonias a wry smile; no, he wasn’t getting anything from Sharon, he wasn’t even sure Sharon liked him – not like that, anyway.

  Jake hadn’t wanted to introduce her to Antonias, knowing that with his looks and charm, he could sweep her off her feet and he would lose her forever.

  Antonias, however, had made it his business to see this woman of Jake’s, who kept popping up into their conversation. He had gone to the college one night to meet Jake and there he was, looking almost coy, talking to a smartly dressed pretty woman. Her curves, Antonias noticed, were all in the right places. Very nice, indeed.

  He had walked over and said hello to Jake, then looked at Sharon and smiled. ‘Hi, I’m Antony,’ he said, and held out his hand to her.

  ‘Sharon,’ she said, and they shook hands. He could see Jake felt uneasy.

  ‘I was just passing, mate, wondered if you fancied a drink,’ he said. Again, Jake had looked uneasy. Antonias’s calculations had been wrong. Jake obviously liked this woman more than he had let on, and was hoping to go for a drink alone with her.

  ‘Actually, Jake,’ Antonias said, as he looked at his watch, ‘I’ve just realised I have to be somewhere. Sorry, got to go.’

  Antonias made a hasty exit. He had been curious about Sharon, but he could see Jake had felt a little intimidated by his presence. He wouldn’t do that to Jake, he was his brother. What was it they said? ‘Mates before dates.’ Well, that was how he felt, he’d apologise to Jake later, for gatecrashing.

  ***

  The next day, they had both gone to the bossman. They’d had keys made for the cars they had renovated, and handed them over.

  They were both making a lot of money, collecting the cars, doing them up and also doing some legitimate work, Antonias at the garage and Jake as a freelance bookkeeper. Life was hectic!

  ‘Take these over to my wife,’ the bossman said. ‘Here’s the address, hopefully it’ll shut the moaning cow up.’ He handed over a scrap of paper with his address on, plus the keys to an old Jaguar they’d done up and resprayed. The car was a death trap.

  ‘Is that all he thinks his wife is worth?’ Antonias said to Jake. ‘The amount of money he’s making and this is the best she gets. What a tight-fisted bastard!’

  ‘Yeah, right, Antony, it’s because he spends all his money paying prostitutes and on that mistress of his. I bet she’s got a new car.’

  Antonias drove the Jag and Jake followed behind in his car, so that he could drive them both back home after the motor had been delivered.

  The bossm
an’s house turned out to be a decent detached house, with bay windows and a drive. Nice enough, but nothing special. They knocked at the door, and waited.

  A woman in her thirties answered. She wasn’t bad looking and had an ample bosom. Antonias and Jake looked at each other; they hadn’t expected the wife to look like this. They had expected some old woman, the same age as the boss.

  Antonias checked who she was, just in case this wasn’t the bossman’s wife; after all, he didn’t know her.

  It was the middle of the day, and she was dressed in a silk camisole and dressing gown. She had all her make-up on, and she was sipping a clear drink from a cocktail glass.

  ‘Come in, boys, what does the old fart want now? Why has he sent you?’

  It was obvious to them both that she’d had more than one cocktail, when she waved her arm and spilt her drink.

  They both stepped through the door and followed her, as she walked into the lounge.

  ‘We’ve brought you these,’ Jake said, shaking the car keys. ‘The boss thought you might like a present.’

  ‘Another stolen car, whoopee!’ she shouted, and she went over to the coffee table, picked up a glass jug filled with some of the cocktail she had made up earlier, and poured it in her glass.

  ‘Leave them on the side,’ she said. She pointed to a wall unit near the door.

  Then she looked at Antonias, walked up to him and stroked his face.

  ‘Well, aren’t you the handsome one.’ She turned to Jake, and stroked his face, too. He felt uncomfortable.

  She stood in front of Antonias, and adjusted her camisole, so that it showed more of her ample bosom. Antonias looked at Jake and smiled.

  ‘We’d better be going, then,’ said Antonias. He winked at Jake and walked very slowly out of the room. He knew what was coming; this bored housewife was ignored, taken for granted and cheated on regularly … no wonder she drank. She was lonely, and more to the point, she was frustrated.

  ‘Must you go, so soon?’ she said, and pouted.

  There is no way, thought Antonias, the boss is making time for her. He was far too busy hanging around with his mistress, and anyone else that came along.