by Kevin Brooks
I raised my eyebrows. ‘That was a bit risky, wasn’t it?’
He smiled. ‘I didn’t tell them who she was or anything, I just happened to mention the first name of a young woman from Belfast who used to work behind the bar … just in passing, you know? Just to see if the name meant anything to them. But it didn’t.’
‘All right,’ I said, struggling to come to terms with all this. ‘But I still don’t understand why you have to put yourself at risk by getting involved with these men. I mean, if you know they’re in the IRA, and you think that one of them might be responsible for your father’s murder, why don’t you just tell the police?’
‘I can’t do that,’ William said simply. ‘No matter who they are, what they’ve done, or what they’re planning to do, I can’t turn them in. I just can’t … I’d be no better than Franky Hughes if I did.’
‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘but what if they are planning something? You can’t just let them blow people up, for God’s sake.’
‘That won’t happen,’ he said firmly. ‘I won’t let it happen. If I find out that they’re planning something that’s likely to hurt or kill people, I’ll stop them.’
‘How?’
‘I don’t know … I’ll think of something.’ He looked away from me. ‘But if they’re here for any other reason, anything that doesn’t directly threaten anyone … well, I’m not going to get in their way.’
I shook my head. ‘I don’t understand …’
He sighed again. ‘I’m not sure that I do, really. It’s just … I don’t know. Part of me still believes in what my dad believed in, that it’s a war, and that we have a right to fight back … I mean, we have to fight back. It’s the only way.’
‘Do you really believe that?’
‘Yeah …’ He nodded. ‘Yeah … at least, I think I do. But the thing is … I don’t want anyone to get hurt. I don’t want anyone else to get killed. It’s just not right … I mean, I know … I fucking know …’ He paused for a moment, wiping his eyes. ‘I know how it feels …’ he muttered quietly. ‘No one should ever have to feel like that.’
I put my hand on his shoulder.
He looked at me, his eyes moist with tears. ‘I just have to do what I’m doing, Lili. I have to find out if this man shot my dad, and I have to do it my way. But I promise you that I won’t let anyone get hurt, OK?’
I nodded silently.
He rubbed his eyes, cleared his throat, and went on. ‘I’m getting closer and closer to them all the time now, they’re starting to trust me … they’re actually starting to let me in on what they’re doing. That’s why I missed the gig last night. They’d asked me to meet them in the pub, and I’d just assumed that nothing much was going to happen, as usual – a few drinks, a few questions, a few vague hints about what they wanted me to do – and then I’d tell them that I had to go, and I’d jump in a cab and get to Islington in plenty of time for the gig. But when I got to the pub, instead of just sitting in the bar and having a few drinks like we usually do, they took me to a little room upstairs, and once the door was closed … well, that’s when things got really serious.’
‘What do you mean?’ I asked.
‘They had a list of things they wanted me to do … it was mostly just errand-boy stuff – collecting packages, delivering stuff … nothing too heavy. They asked me if I could do it, and I said “no problem”, and then they started slapping me around a bit.’
‘Why?’
He shrugged. ‘Just to make sure, you know … to test me, to let me know who I was dealing with, to give me a taste of what would happen if I fucked them over. It’s what they do. They tape up your eyes and put an empty gun to the back of your head, and then they just scream at you for a while, telling you all kinds of scary shit, and then, eventually, they say goodbye and pull the trigger …’
‘Shit …’ I whispered. ‘That’s terrible.’
‘Yeah, well,’ he said, smiling. ‘I knew the gun wasn’t loaded, so it wasn’t that bad. And the thing is, once they’ve done it … well, then you’re in with them. It’s all handshakes and smiles afterwards, you know – no hard feelings, have a drink, have a smoke … all that kind of shit. Anyway, the next thing I know, they’re telling me that they want to show me something, and I’m following them out of the pub, and five minutes later we’re in this car-repair place under a railway bridge, and there’s all kinds of shit in there – guns, explosives, maps, timers … everything.’ William looked at me. ‘That’s where I was last night, Lili. That’s why I couldn’t get to the gig, you see? I just couldn’t …’
I nodded. ‘So did you find out what they’re planning to do?’
‘Not exactly,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I mean, I know it’s big, and I’m pretty sure it’s going to happen sometime in the next two or three months … but that’s all I’ve got so far. I think they were planning to tell me a bit more about it last night, but something happened …’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah, there was someone sneaking around outside the workshop …’ He shrugged. ‘It was probably nothing, just some local kid nosing around or something, you know? But Donal’s a bit paranoid – he thinks MI5’s after him – so he had us chasing this kid halfway across London –’
‘Did you catch him?’ I asked, struggling to keep a straight face.
‘No, he got away …’
I started to laugh.
William frowned at me. ‘What? What’s so funny?’
‘It was me,’ I said. ‘The kid you were chasing … it was me.’
William shook his head. ‘I don’t get it.’
I told him everything then, how I’d seen them all coming out of the pub and followed them to the workshop under the bridge … and when I’d finished explaining it all, William just sat there in silence for a while, slowly shaking his head in utter disbelief.
Eventually, he looked up at me and said, ‘But you didn’t look anything like you …’
‘I was wearing Chief’s donkey jacket and hat,’ I said. ‘And, besides, it was pretty dark … and it was raining.’
William shook his head again. ‘So how did you get away from us? Where did you go?’
‘I cut down a little lane between those houses, you know …? The ones to the right of the track? Then I went down the street and got a taxi in St Ann’s Road.’
‘Shit …’
‘That’s why I was late for the gig.’
‘Right …’ he said, nodding. ‘And what did Curtis have to say about that?’
‘Well, he wasn’t very happy.’
‘I can imagine …’
I looked up then as heavy raindrops began to fall, splatting down noisily through the trees. The sky was black with thunderclouds.
‘I think we’re in for another storm,’ I said, as the rain began to pour down.
William got to his feet, gazing up at the angry sky. ‘Come on,’ he said to me, holding out his hand. ‘We’d better get away from these trees before the lightning starts.’
As I took his hand and stood up, the first crash of thunder boomed right above us, and the rain came down in torrents.
‘This way,’ William said, leading me off down the path. ‘Come on, quick …’
Lightning streaked across the sky, and then – CRACK! – a huge crash of thunder ripped through the air, making us both duck our heads.
‘Run!’ William shouted, pulling me along now. ‘Come on …’
It was actually quite frightening, the sheer power of the storm – the roar of the rain, the wind whipping through the trees, the rolling darkness looming over our heads – but as we ran down the pathway, hand in hand, clattering our way through overhanging branches, I couldn’t help feeling exhilarated too.
‘This way,’ William called out again, leading me down another pathway. ‘There it is … come on.’
The rain was coming down so heavily now, and the skies
were so dark and gloomy, that I could barely see where we were going. I could just about make out that we were heading for some kind of building, but all I could really see of it was a blurred black shape looming up through the darkness in front of us … a solid stone wall, an arched doorway, a tapering spire …
‘Mind your step,’ William said, guiding me towards the doorway.
As I followed him through the door and down some stone steps, I realized that we were inside a derelict chapel. The windows were all boarded up, the ancient stone walls were falling apart, most of the roof was gone … it was basically just a ruined shell. Piles of rubbish were stuffed in corners, there were empty bottles and cigarette ends all over the place, the walls were scrawled with graffiti …
I looked up through the roofless roof, and all I could see was falling rain. I wiped my face and looked at William.
‘It’s all right,’ he said, smiling. ‘We’ll be dry in a minute. Trust me …’
I followed him across the main part of the chapel and through another archway, and then he led me over to an opening in the wall on the right. Two stone steps led up to the opening, which was about half the size of a normal door, so we had to crouch down and duck our heads to get through it. William went first, and once he was through, he turned round and held out his hand to me.
‘Mind your head,’ he warned, helping me through the gap.
I crouched down, keeping my head low, and crawled warily through the opening.
‘It’s all right,’ William said, once I was through. ‘You can stand up now.’
I cautiously got to my feet and looked around. We were in a small stone room. It had a stone floor, stone walls, and – thankfully – a fairly solid-looking stone ceiling. The ceiling was only about six feet high, so there wasn’t a lot of headroom, and it took me a while to feel comfortable standing up straight with the roof so close to my head. It also took a while for my eyes to adjust to the gloom. The only outside light came from a small glassless window at the top of the far wall, which probably wouldn’t have let much light in at the best of times. Now though – with the storm still raging outside, and the thunderclouds still blackening the sky – there was only just enough light seeping in to see anything at all.
‘What is this place?’ I asked William, still gazing around.
‘I don’t know … just an old chapel, I suppose –’
‘No, I meant here … this room.’
He shrugged. ‘God knows … some kind of storage place, maybe? A wine cellar …?’
‘Have you been here before?’ I asked him, peering through the gloom at some old sheets of sacking laid out on the floor in the corner.
‘Once or twice …’
I looked quizzically at him.
‘It’s just a place …’ he said, slightly embarrassed. ‘There’s nothing … you know, there’s nothing mysterious about it or anything. I just … I don’t know … I just come here sometimes, that’s all … I just like it.’ He looked at me then, smiling with all the innocence of a shy little boy. ‘You probably think that’s pretty weird.’
‘Yeah, I do,’ I said, smiling back at him. ‘But weird’s OK … I like weird.’
He laughed.
Lightning flashed outside, momentarily illuminating the room.
‘Do you want to sit down?’ William asked, indicating the sheets of sacking in the corner.
‘Well …’ I said hesitantly.
‘It’s all right … it’s perfectly clean.’ He grinned. ‘Well, maybe not perfectly …’
‘It’s not that,’ I told him. ‘It’s just …’ And now it was my turn to be embarrassed. ‘It’s just that … well, I really need a wee.’
He smiled. ‘Me too, actually.’
‘I don’t suppose there’s a toilet in here, is there?’
He shook his head. ‘If you go back out into the main bit of the chapel, then turn right and head up towards the far end … well, there’s plenty of little nooks and crannies up there, you know, little hidey-hole places … you can use one of those.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yeah, why not?’
‘Well … it’s a chapel …’
‘So?’
‘I don’t know … it just feels a bit disrespectful or something, you know? Having a wee in the house of God …?’
William smiled. ‘I’m sure he won’t mind.’
‘I hope not,’ I said, heading back out through the opening.
‘You can always tell him the Devil made you do it,’ William called after me.
‘Yeah,’ I called back, ‘or I could tell him that William Bonney made me do it.’
‘That’s fine with me.’
As I picked my way through the debris on the floor, heading towards the far end of the chapel, I heard William chuckling. And then, as I paused to wipe a cobweb from my face, I thought I heard him mutter something to himself. It wasn’t very clear, and I could have been mistaken, but I could have sworn he said that he was ‘going to burn in hell anyway’.
When I got back to the little stone room, William was leaning against the wall beneath the window.
‘All right?’ he asked me.
‘Yeah, thanks.’
He smiled at me, then headed for the opening in the wall. ‘Won’t be a minute,’ he said.
I watched him leave, then I went over to the sacking in the corner and sat down. Through the window I could see that the rain was just beginning to ease off a little, and the thunder and lightning – while still crashing around – wasn’t quite so close any more. The sky, though, was still as dark as ever.
I looked at my watch.
It was nearly seven thirty.
It would be nightfall soon. The warm air of the storm was already cooling, and before long the temperature would rapidly start to drop. Even now, with my clothes soaked through and my hair dripping wet, I could feel myself starting to shiver. I still had William’s jacket draped round my shoulders, but as I pulled it tight, trying to keep warm, I realized that it was just as wet as everything else.
I started to think about lighting a fire then. It shouldn’t be that difficult, I thought. William had a lighter, didn’t he? And there must be plenty of stuff around here to burn …
I heard something then. Footsteps … in the chapel outside. The sound of someone running … I froze, listening hard as the sound got closer and closer … and then, all of a sudden, William came diving through the opening in the wall. He hit the ground, face first, then rolled over and quickly got to his knees.
‘What the –?’ I said.
‘Shhh,’ he whispered, putting his finger to his lips.
‘What?’
‘Be quiet,’ he hissed, crawling over to me.
I heard another noise from the chapel then … more foot-steps … someone walking … shuffling … coughing …
I looked at William. He was sitting right next to me now, his eyes fixed on the opening in the wall. ‘Who is it?’ I whispered.
‘It’s the man who locks up …’
‘Locks up what?’
‘The cemetery … he’s just checking to make sure that no one’s in here before he locks the gates for the night. Keep still.’
I leaned closer to William, peered through the opening, and caught a brief glimpse of a blurred figure passing by on the opposite side of the chapel. He was very short, no more than five feet tall, and he was dressed from head to toe in black waterproof clothing – Wellington boots, a full-length rain coat, a floppy-brimmed sou’wester hat.
I stifled a giggle.
‘Shhh!’ William said, but I could see that he was grinning too.
‘It’s the Grim Reaper,’ I whispered.
‘No …’ William whispered in my ear. ‘It’s God … he’s come to get you for having a wee in his house.’
I had to clamp my hand over my mouth to stop myself laughing. William was
struggling as well, trying not to make a sound, his shoulders jiggling up and down …
After a few seconds, the God-Man passed back the other way, still on the other side of the chapel, and then, when he was out of sight, he coughed again – once, twice – and this time he made a disgusting hawking sound in the back of his throat and we heard him spit loudly on the ground.
‘God …’ I whispered.
And then, realizing what I’d said, I looked at William … and suddenly we both cracked up. Snorting and spluttering, grinning like idiots, and desperately trying to keep quiet, we ended up grabbing hold of each other and rolling around like a couple of naughty little kids at the back of the classroom …
After a while, I heard William whisper, ‘I think he’s gone.’
‘Thank God,’ I said.
And that set us off again.
Eventually, though, we managed to stop laughing … and then we were both just sitting there, side by side, trying to get our breath back … and, for a second or two, it felt kind of awkward. We were sitting right next to each other, our bodies touching, and neither of us really knew what to do about it. Should we stay like this? Or should we move away from each other?
It was one of those moments …
And then William said, ‘You’re shivering.’
I looked at him. ‘So are you.’
‘Am I?’
I nodded. ‘I was thinking that maybe we should light a fire …’
‘Yeah …’
‘Or we could just …’
He looked at me. ‘What?’
‘Well … I think I read somewhere that if you’re cold and wet, and you’re with someone else, you can use each other’s body heat to keep warm.’
‘Body heat?’
‘Yeah,’ I said, smiling. ‘All you have to do, apparently, is cuddle up really close to each other …’
William smiled. ‘That sounds a lot easier than lighting a fire.’
‘You think so?’
‘Yeah,’ he said shyly. ‘I think so …’