by Pete Adams
‘Darlin', he will be okay, want a drink?’ Maisie asked.
Mandy recoiled, ‘Oh no, my mum used to drink at times like this and she would get plastered, my sister and I had to fend for ourselves.’
Maisie tried to conceal her sense of horror, ‘What about your dad?’
‘Didn’t give a shit.’
‘Sounds tough. Fatso, take over from Little Jack now, please.’ Fatso got up, stretched over his wife and put a hand on Mandy’s shoulder, she found it reassuring, thought if only her mum and dad had done that.
‘Only a few days ago Jack was blown-up, I’m not sure I can take this, Maisie?’
Maisie tightened her embrace, ‘I know, I know...’ rubbing Mandy’s shoulder, and then her back. Mandy thought, I bet Jack is like this with his kids. ‘Babes, as I said, Jack is the sort of man things happen around. Don’t ask me why, it just does. Ordinarily you meet Jack and you would peg him for a girl’s blouse, that’s what Michael calls him.’ She stopped talking, took her arm away and turned Mandy to face her. ‘Listen to me, you love that man, I can see, but you need to think about yourself as well, many women don’t, but you must, because he’s a big man in every sense of the word. I’ve seen women drive themselves into the ground through the love of a man. Don’t get me wrong, he is kind and considerate, will be there for you all the time, it’s just...’ and flicked her hands, ‘...things happen around him.’ Mandy raised her face and looked at a woman who clearly loved Jack. Maisie talked some more, ‘Look at us, my Fatso could have been shot today. We were there because we will do anything for Jack. We love him, but we come from a different angle, babes, you understand what I say?’
‘I understand how you feel and why, but why is Jack with you?’
She gave a short, wry laugh, ‘Darlin', you do not know the half. He loved his wife, but it was not what I would call an equal love. He worshipped her, forgave her everything, did whatever she wanted, except the one thing she really wanted, he would not give up the police. This became worse after my Dottie and his eye. We got to know him because the rows began, and often he would come to us. Suppose he felt a bond, I like to think so. He even slept a few times on the boat. Kate couldn’t stand this, nor could she understand the kissing of the eye.’
‘I must admit I have a little difficulty there.’
‘I know, but you have to understand the fishing families are close, have been for generations, and we are not best loved. Jack did a big thing for us. He gave up something big, and for us. It’s our way to show we do not forget, the women especially, we feel it with a child. That’s why it happens. The men just shake his hand and have the male thing of looking each other in the eye, don’t ask me how it works, but it does; never understood men.’
Fatso was on the intercom, ‘Coming into harbour, the Police have a car for you, Mandy, Bluebottle cab with blues and twos, said you’d know what they meant?’
Mandy nodded and smiled, ‘It’s what Jack would have said.’
Maisie squeezed and nodded, looked Mandy in the eye, ‘Go for him, darlin'.’
‘I will.’
‘Do me one thing, eh?’
‘What’s that?’
‘Stay in touch, it will be down to you. Jack will go one hundred per cent for you and he will be putty in your hands, so I ask you, woman to woman, please keep in touch and try to understand the eye thing. Most of all, stay in touch, because Jack is useless like my Fatso, but if you go with Jack you will need an army of support around you, and we can do that for you, will do that for you,' she shrugged, 'and we want to see him as well. Let’s not forget that.’
‘I would like that, thank you.’
The intercom again, ‘Berthing babes.’
‘Think he’s talking to you,’ they both smiled at the feeble joke.
‘Let’s get you changed, you want to look good for him when he wakes up, the little tow-rag.’ Mandy managed a chuckle, when she thought she would never laugh again, but this short, stout, working woman, Mrs Hitler, did it for her. They climbed the dock ladder and Mandy followed Maisie into the shed. S stopped and smelled. ‘What is it?’ Maisie asked.
Looking around her the inside of the bleak, utilitarian shed, Mandy answered, ‘Jack said there will come a time when this smell will be nice to me, I laughed, but now I like it.’
‘It’s the association for Jack, friends and seafood, I sometimes think it’s mainly the seafood, but I live in hope.’
‘I see that, can see how Jack steps aside from the material world like he does.’
Maisie was effusive, ‘Mandy, that man embraces life, and that is how I know he will be okay, that, and he will know you are there for him. You are aren’t you?’
‘I am, Maisie.’
Sixty-Six
Mandy emerged from the shed in her red dress and Maisie shooed her to the police car, ‘Hospital, Ma’am?’
‘Yes, Bobby, thank you.’
‘Blues and two’s?’
‘Give it all you got,’ Mandy replied, holding back her sobs. They took off with the sirens and lights going, and Mandy slumped into the rear seat, she was exhausted but jumped with a start and put her seatbelt on, thought of Jack, then looked out of the window. Bobby was talking but she hadn’t noticed, ‘Sorry, I was miles away?’
‘I said Jack will be alright, he may look like a wet rag, but he’s made of strong stuff, Millwall you see, breed ‘em tough down the Den.’
‘Do they, I hope so.’
‘How is he really, Ma'am?’
She sniffed, ‘Not good, and I’m scared shitless.’ She felt the car surge as Bobby leaned on the accelerator. She was glad, looked out of the windscreen, people moved their cars out of the way. ‘Can you put me through to the CP room?’
‘I can.’
Jo-Jums picked up, ‘Mandy, how are you, where are you?’
‘As well as can be expected I suppose, I'm on my way up to Jack, what’s the news?’
‘Not much more, chaos downstairs as they bring the bastards in, crime scene is set, 17 kids in all, one dead. The one in the water makes it eighteen, he’s still hanging on, a tough cookie. Seems he was being delivered by boat early this morning and gave them the slip, was clinging to the side of the fort but eventually slipped in. Lucky you came along when you did.’
‘Keep me posted, I need to stay active.’
‘Understood,’ Jo replied, ‘by the way, one of the kids was Osama’s, so tell that to Jack when he wakes, it will cheer him up.’
‘I will, and Jo, you’ve done brilliant today.’
‘Thanks, Liz, with Carly, Dolly, Michael and Colleen are there, Alana is on the way with Josh, Alice said she’s staying, and the Holy Ghost is floating up on his own steam. Mandy, give Jack our love.’
‘I will, I’m here, thanks for the chat.’
The patrol car pulled up at the casualty Porte Cochere. Mandy looked lost and Bobby got out and helped her to reception, made the enquiries. He came back and took her by the arm. ‘This way, Ma’am.’
‘Bobby, you can call me Mandy.’
He tightened his grip as he felt her falter, ‘Thank you, but on duty...’
He guided her through the corridors, up in the lift, “doors opening,” ‘No kidding, Tonto,’ she said.
‘Sorry, Ma’am?’
‘Nothing, Bobby.’
Bobby left her at the theatre waiting area. Michael got up to hug her, Alice was standing aside, eyes red raw. Michael let Mandy go and Colleen hugged her. Her dam burst as she bent to cry into Dolly’s shoulder. ‘There, love, get it out of your system, our boy will be alright you’ll see,’ Dolly guided her to a low bench and they sat down.
‘What time is it?’ Mandy asked.
‘Seven thirty,’ Michael said, ‘he’s been in for seven hours he’s....’ Michael stopped, there was a Doctor standing in surgeons’ blue scrubs. Mandy’s heart sank.
‘Jack Austin’s family?’
‘Yes,’ Michael answered, ‘How is he?’
‘We’ve finishe
d the major procedure, a lot of damage which hopefully we have repaired. We are doing his foot now, one and half hours I’d say, he is critical but it went as well as can be expected,’ and he left.
Liz arrived and hugged her mum, 'Sorry I've been difficult.’
‘It’s okay, Mum.’
They hugged like they would never separate, then the practical Mandy surfaced, ‘Michael, ring Alana and tell her he's out of danger, no need for her to drive fast. I will phone the station.’
‘I’ll go back now he’s okay and tell them,’ and Alice left.
Sixty-Seven
Jack was in Intensive Care, there had been complications, but he had a fighting chance. Mandy dozed fitfully in the chair next to his bed and woke with a start as he touched her hand that was draped across him.
‘Jack.’
She moved her chair closer and rested her head onto the bed, he stroked her hair and whispered weakly, ‘Did we get the bastards?’
‘We did.’
His voice was hardly discernible, ‘Moriarty?’
‘Probably not.’
‘The boy in the water?’ he opened his eye, she had made sure she was positioned so his good eye could see her.
‘Critical, but will make it.’ He responded with a gentle nod. ‘They found Osama’s son. They want to come and see you, probably shove a mango up your arse, that’s what I would do; feckin’ ballet.’
‘You didn’t believe me?’
‘No, and I still don’t, you were making it up.’
‘You will never know.’
‘Ah, but I will, the tactical support had cameras and you are on film and going around all the nicks as we speak, you will be a laughing stock if I have anything to do with it, you scared the living daylights out of me.’
‘You love me though?’
She gripped his hand and pulled it to her cheek, ‘I love you deeply,’ he seemed like he was losing the little energy he had and she wanted him to shut-up, but he wouldn’t.
‘We got them, went around the houses, but we got them. Mike says, “Know thine enemy”, they should have listened. He drifted off mumbling about Moriarty and whose enemy he was, was he an enemy at all? This confused Mandy. She rested her head beside his hand. Jack looked out across the bed, the walls slowly disappeared and everything seemed bleached, his eye felt dodgy, all was a bright misty white, except for the lustrous crimson that was Mandy’s dress.
Mandy fell into a deep sleep. She did not hear the beeping monitor change to a single tone, nor the staff of the ICU run to the bedside with the crash cart, nor the tinkling glass sound, a text message on Jack’s phone she had in her hand bag. Later she would read that message:
Get well soon Jane
Round 2
Angels and Virgins
Do you know thine enemy Jack?
Mor.
THE END or is it...?
Book 2 - Kind Hearts and Martinets
Can, Can't, Will
Irony in the Soul
Dear Reader
Dear reader,
We hope you enjoyed reading Cause and Effect. If you have a moment, please leave us a review - even if it's a short one. We want to hear from you.
The story continues in Irony in the Soul.
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Pete Adams and the Creativia Team
About the Author
Pete Adams is an architect with a practice in Portsmouth, UK, and from there he has, over forty years, designed and built buildings across England and Wales. Pete took up writing after listening to a radio interview of the writer Michael Connolly whilst driving home from Leeds. A passionate reader, the notion of writing his own novel was compelling, but he had always been told you must have a mind map for the book; Jeez, he could never get that. Et Voila, Connolly responding to a question, said he never can plan a book, and starts with an idea for chapter one and looks forward to seeing where it would lead. Job done, and that evening Pete started writing and the series, Kind Hearts and Martinets, was on the starting blocks.
That was some eight years ago, and hardly a day has passed where Pete has not worked on his writing, and currently, is halfway through his tenth book, has a growing number of short stories, one, critically acclaimed and published by Bloodhound, and has written and illustrated a series of historical nonsense stories called, Whopping Tales.
Pete describes himself as an inveterate daydreamer, and escapes into those dreams by writing crime thrillers with a thoughtful dash of social commentary. He has a writing style shaped by his formative years on an estate that re-housed London families after WWII, and his books have been likened to the writing of Tom Sharpe; his most cherished review, "made me laugh, made me cry, and made me think".
Pete lives in Southsea with his partner, and Charlie, the star-struck Border terrier, the children having flown the coop, and has three beautiful granddaughters who will play with him so long as he promises not to be silly.