by Coles, Linda
“You’ve changed dramatically,” said Birdie. “It’s good that something positive came out of a miserable situation, don’t you think?”
“Indeed. I should have knocked him off years before!” Cynthia said, throwing her head back laughing. Though Birdie laughed alongside her old friend, her mind was whirring.
When their laughter had died down a little, Birdie asked, “So, excuse my lack of knowledge on the subject, but as a programmer, does that mean you can hack into others’ software as well?” She kept her face a friendly smile, as if she’d asked about the weather for the upcoming weekend. Cynthia saw straight through it.
“I was about to say I knew there was a reason you got in touch, but there is no way you’d know about my computer skills, so I won’t. Tell me what you’re thinking, and I’ll tell you if I can do it. And I didn’t say ‘will do it’.”
Birdie understood, and the two women locked eyes for a moment. The change of atmosphere in the room was palpable. It had gone from old-friend friendly to a covert business enquiry that wasn’t exactly legal.
“Here’s what I’m wondering,” started Birdie.
Fifty-Two
Birdie had given Cynthia something to think about, and from the way she’d taken in the request, Birdie knew the woman would be intrigued enough to carry it through. It wasn’t legal at all, but Birdie figured her friend had the chance to either turn it down or see it through and see what happened. She also knew the secret would be safe with her, birds of a feather and all that. Without Cynthia’s new-found skill, Birdie would have no way to complete the task, and it gave her a bit of a buzz to be thinking along the clandestine route again. She’d learned a lot during her time inside but hadn’t put any of those learnings into practice, choosing to stay clear of crime, never wishing to go back to the slammer, and she still didn’t want to. But now, in her late ’seventies, perhaps she could risk it in order to do some good. Tomorrow she could be dead. If there was some way of helping Will, she’d do it. It would be fun, though they just had to make sure they didn’t get caught, and if Cynthia’s skills were up to scratch, they’d be in the clear. After tea and biscuits and catching up on the more mundane areas of their lives, Cynthia had eventually dropped Birdie at Leicester Station for the journey home. She’d assumed it would be a straight run through and hadn’t bothered to check the journey, but it seemed it was going to take a while longer than planned. There were two stops, one at Nuneaton and one at Rugby, and she had to change at both places. It didn’t really matter, she didn’t have too much to rush home for, but she did need to notify Will to pick her up at the other end. Since she had raced to get her ticket and get onto the relevant platform in time, she hadn’t phoned him on the first part of the journey, and it was only after another change at Rugby that she finally picked up the phone and called him. She hoped he wasn’t too busy.
Will was sitting stationary on the A45. A lorry had jackknifed some way ahead of him and one lane of the carriageway was completely closed off. Traffic was making its way through the only open lane at a snail’s pace. He had been sitting there for an hour already, on his way back into town after another drop-off and was concerned about again being late to pick up Sanjeev. It would likely be the end of his contract if he missed him for a second time. Will looked at the clock for the umpteenth time and took a deep breath; he only had half an hour then he was officially late. Figuring that to ring Sanjeev directly would only send the lad into a flap unnecessarily, he decided to wait and see what happened traffic-wise. If he got back into the town centre bang on time there would be no issue and Sanjeev would be saved from getting distressed and worked up, but Will felt bad because leaving it to the last minute could also be detrimental to his mental state. It was a tough choice to make, though he finally settled on waiting and hoping they moved forward sometime soon.
When Birdie called and said she was on the train and heading in, he inwardly groaned, wondering how he could do both pickups at the same time. All he needed now was for Stanley to call, as he said he would, and add to the confusion. Heavy rain pelted his windscreen as he waited, and he turned the radio on to listen for any available updates. At least the chatter from the radio hosts would help ease the tension that was building rapidly in his head. No sooner had he flicked the radio on than his phone rang, and looking at the caller ID, he could see it was Stanley.
“Oh for heaven’s sake!” he said in an exasperated voice before wondering whether to answer. Should he let it ring out? After all, he knew exactly what the man was going to say. He clicked to answer and forcibly changed his face to a smile.
“Hello Stanley,” said Will as chirpily as he could muster.
“Where are you?” asked Stanley accusingly.
“What do you mean, where am I?”
“I organised a pickup and you’re not here, and it’s pissing down.” Will knew that the man had not actually organised any time at all, that they had left it that Stanley would call to book sometime today.
“You said you would call me, Stanley, but to answer your question, I’m stuck on the A45 in the accident.”
“You’ve had an accident?”
“No,” said Will, “a lorry up ahead has had an accident, I’m stuck in the tailback. Where are you?”
“I said I was getting an apple pie and needed a lift home.” Will refrained from rolling his eyes even though Stanley couldn’t see him. There was no pleasing some, but Stanley did get confused, and often. The man’s slippered feet came to mind.
“I can’t get there right now, Stanley, I’m headed to the library once I get out of this traffic, to pick another customer up, then I have to swing by the station and pick another one up. I’m running terribly behind.”
“But I need you,” said Stanley. He sounded like a petulant seven-year-old.
“I can only advise you to get a lift elsewhere if you can,” said Will. He hated turning business down, particularly regular customers, but he couldn’t be in three places at once. It was bad enough as it was that he was now going to have Sanjeev and Birdie in the car at the same time.
Stanley either wasn’t listening or was ignoring Will. “It’s raining and there are no sodding taxis,” said Stanley sternly. At that moment Will’s lane started to move on – slowly, but at least he was moving again. He could see blue flashing lights up ahead now, likely from fire engines or whatever emergency services were needed for a jack-knifed lorry. There would be police up ahead no doubt. Will was conscious that Stanley was still waiting for him to appear as if by magic right there and then. He had another idea to try and appease the man. “Stanley, why don’t you go back inside to the café and get a pot of tea, and as soon as I’m free, I’ll come and get you, okay? But it won’t be for a little while.”
“I guess I haven’t got a choice, have I?” said Stanley, clearly unimpressed.
“Well, you have actually. You could try and get another taxi home if you’re in a rush. I just can’t do everything all at once.”
“You’re my driver, Will, I’ll wait.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can, I can’t say any more, okay?” The line went dead, but at least Will was moving now, and as he passed the scene of the accident, he tried not to rubberneck, as it was always tempting to do. There could well have been a fatality, and he didn’t want to be disrespectful. As the traffic ahead of him increased its speed, the accident now behind them, the clock informed Will there was no need to ring Sanjeev and all that entailed, but he did have to figure out how he could persuade him that Birdie should share a ride. Maybe if he put Sanjeev up front next to him, so away from coming into physical contact with her, that might work. He didn’t want to let the lad down again, but nor his friend Birdie. Not Stanley either for that matter.
With five minutes to spare, he waited for Sanjeev to appear, knowing full well he’d be bang on time. There was no need to make sure the door was secured behind him or that light switches were in the upright position. Sanjeev moved from other people’s property
a little freer than he did his own. When Will saw him heading towards his car, he opened the front passenger side for him. A look of confusion shrouded his face.
“I sit in the back,” said Sanjeev when he was close enough to have a conversation.
“I know, but we have to make a detour today, if it’s okay with you? I’ve been sitting in traffic on the motorway, an accident, and it’s put me behind a little. I was really anxious to get here on time for you, which I’ve managed, but it does mean a double up.”
“I’m not sure,” said Sanjeev, hovering by the front door.
Will willed him to get in. “You’ll like the other person, she’s lovely, her name is Birdie, so why don’t you get in and we’ll go over to the station and pick her up? Then I can drop you straight home.”
“I’m not sure,” said Sanjeev, repeating himself like a broken record. Will was tempted to push him into the passenger seat and drive off but that would never do. “Please, Sanjeev, take a seat and we’ll be there shortly. You don’t have to touch anything, though you know my car is nice and clean, you’ve been in it many times before, and you don’t have to sit next to anybody. I’ll make sure Birdie sits behind my chair so she’s away from you.” Will stared into the deep brown eyes of the young man and hoped there wasn’t going to be scene on the street. Poppy and her dinosaur outfit jumped before his eyes, as did the tantrum that followed. He couldn’t cope with more raised voices and tantrums, not today. Reluctantly, Sanjeev climbed into the passenger seat and Will let out a long sigh of relief then closed the door before getting in himself. He figured he needed to keep the lad’s mind off what was happening and any stress it might be causing internally, and so immediately started a conversation about his day. It seemed to work.
Fifty-Three
As Will rounded the corner to the train station, he could see Birdie waiting patiently outside the huge glass building. The overhang was doing a decent job of keeping most of the rain off her head and shoulders, and she waved lightly when she spotted him. He pulled up and she dashed across to the half-open door and slipped inside.
“The heavens just picked their right moment to open!” she said, catching her breath and rearranging herself on the seat. “Oh, we have a visitor, Will. Who is this?”
“This is Sanjeev, Birdie, a friend of mine and part of my calendar crisis this afternoon.” Sanjeev looked over his shoulder at her before nodding to her quietly. Will wondered if she’d offer to shake hands and hoped she wouldn’t.
“It’s nice to meet you, Sanjeev,” she said, beaming, keeping her hands to herself. “And what glorious long black hair you have, so shiny. Women would kill for that, let me tell you!” she added, then finished with a small chuckle at her own joke. Sanjeev turned back to the front and stayed focused forward as Will pulled into traffic that seemed to have doubled in size since the rain had started. He refrained from glancing back and smiling at Birdie and her killer comment.
It was only a short drive over to Greenwood Road and Sanjeev’s home address, and Will amused himself listening to Birdie chatter on like a canary about the more mundane aspects of her day. It seemed to have gone well at her friend’s place. His phone rang, and Will glanced at it. Stanley, again. He’d let it ring out, not wanting to talk to the cantankerous old man with two passengers on board.
“Don’t mind us, answer it if you want to,” said Birdie. “You don’t mind, do you, Sanjeev?” she asked.
The lad shook his head, and Will could see the tension building at being in such close proximity with a stranger, Will present or not. Stanley, on the other end of the phone was not letting Will off the hook and the phone rang a few more times before Will finally hit the green. Any longer and it would have been embarrassing. He heard Birdie mumble in the back seat, “Thank goodness for that.” Before Will could even say hello, Stanley filled the car with his now booming voice. Sanjeev visibly jumped a little in his seat.
“Where are you, Will?! I’m getting wet!” There was no mistaking his raised voice, the man was clearly unhappy at the delay. This was exasperating now, and Will wanted to tell the grumpy old sod he was being unreasonable, but held his tongue.
“I did tell you I would be a little late due to the accident, Stanley,” he said calmly. “I also have two customers in my car, so please be careful what you say.”
“I couldn’t give a rat’s arse who’s in your car, young man. How long are you going to be?”
Birdie leaned forward, and not liking the way Stanley had spoken to her friend, bellowed back at him over Will’s shoulder, not exactly sure where the microphone was to speak into. “I’d advise you you’d do better to show some manners if you’re looking for a lift any time soon,” she shouted towards the sun visor’s direction. Sanjeev cowered down in his seat a little, and Will, taken by surprise at the shrieking from Birdie behind him, did the same. It wasn’t conducive to driving in wet weather.
“Who the hell are you?” Stanley screamed back. Will was about to interrupt but Birdie beat him to it.
“I’m Birdie Fox, a friend and customer of Will’s, and if you don’t want to go the same way my late husband did, I suggest you pipe down and be civil.” The airwaves stayed silent for a second, though Stanley still had the line open. Birdie again stepped into the gap: “Now, if you’ll stop shouting for a damn millisecond, we’ll swing by and pick you up. At least you’ll be out of the rain. Does that suit?” Will could only wonder how this was all going to work and could only think of the possible fireworks to follow. All he needed now was for Sanjeev to start stressing big time and try to get out of a moving vehicle. He chanced a glance over to him and was relieved he appeared calm – on the outside at any rate. Birdie was waiting for an answer from Stanley. Quietly, Will spoke to the lad.
“Is that okay with you, if we pick Stanley up too?”
He nodded ever so slightly, and Will took it as a ‘yes’. Stanley finally spoke, in a near to normal voice. He’d calmed himself down.
“Right, yes. Okay.”
At that, Birdie sat back in her seat and puffed her cheeks out slowly.
“I’m looking forward to meeting him. He reminds me of that old git off the telly, Meldrew. He was full of bluster too. Does he always talk to you like that?”
“Occasionally, yes.”
Will pointed the car in the direction of Sainsbury’s. It wasn’t far as the crow flies, but the back roads were chocka and he hoped they’d get there before the man made another call.
Finally, they pulled up outside and a dishevelled Stanley ambled over. Will got out into the rain to help him with his carrier bag. It wasn’t the day to wear slippers, and Stanley’s feet were soaked. A moment later, he was being helped into the rear seat, next to Birdie, and he eyed her suspiciously.
“You must be the mouthpiece,” he said by way of introduction. Will closed the door after him and hurried round to his own seat.
“And you must be the ungrateful one. We didn’t have to pick you up, you know, so do try and be pleasant while in our company.”
Will smiled to himself at the pair on the back seat – Birdie’s red lips pursed tight, Stanley trying not to care.
“Right! Drop off for Sanjeev coming right up!” Will said theatrically, trying to shift the mood between the three and stop another world war. He once again pointed the car in their original direction. Since there were no more seats available, they couldn’t possibly pick anyone else up, and that suited him.
To his surprise, he heard Birdie ask Stanley, “Do you know anything about the tunnels under Market Square, the ones that go out and under the church?” Will watched with interest in his rear-view mirror. Stanley gave a chuckle, and with a smile on his lips, waited a beat before answering.
“I spent my teenage years smoking and drinking in the tunnels under Market Square. Best hiding place ever.”
Fifty-Four
Will finally pulled into Greenwood Road to let Sanjeev out at his house. He couldn’t ever remember a journey being so fraught with so few
in a car and hoped that one day he’d look back on it and have a good giggle. Right now, he was glad to deliver Sanjeev to the safety of his own home in one calm piece. He walked the few paces with the young man for his own peace of mind, to make sure that he was in fact okay.
“I’m sorry about that, Sanjeev,” he said. “There was little I could do as events turned out.”
Dark brown eyes locked on to his own and for the first time in a long time Sanjeev gave the beginnings of a smile.
“It’s okay, Will,” he said. “Some days it might not have been, but today is a good day and I’m fine, thank you for asking.”
Will felt something pull at a heartstring and wondered about the lad’s solitude and whether he ever got lonely. Maybe he should make more effort himself to engage in conversation or perhaps be a bit more sociable with him. He made a mental note to put more effort in.
“Well, I’m glad you’re home safely. I’ll see you next week as usual?”
“11 am, Monday morning,” said Sanjeev. “11 am, Monday morning.”
“I’ll see you then. Have a good weekend.” Will wanted to pat the lad gently on the shoulder, but knew he hated being touched and so refrained. It always felt as if something was missing when they parted or greeted – never a handshake, never a fist bump, never anything but words. But so be it, there was little he could do for the lad and Will would have to be content that once a week he got to take him to his therapy session. Sanjeev slipped the key in the door and went inside, leaving Will on the doorstep for a moment on his own. “See you on Monday,” he said quietly to himself before turning back to his car and the two waiting elderly folks that were sitting in the back seats awaiting their trips home.