"So Arthur, what now?" asked Joan, constantly peering out the door.
"Hmm, I'm not sure," said Arthur, knowing that was what the two ladies did not want to hear. "Perhaps I should help Dominik and you two could rush up the road and get help ..." He was interrupted by yells, thuds, crashes and bangs. Then there was an "Umph!" in a distinctly Polish accent. Arthur felt sick and immobilised. He looked at Joan who shrugged with a quiet resignation. Dottie, on the other hand, looked stricken and Arthur was about to go over and comfort her when Toby appeared in the doorway, panting.
"So, where did you get that oaf, Arthur Bayly?" demanded Toby. "Any other tricks up your sleeve I should know about?"
"Aah, no, not ..."
"And, mysteriously, there's no rope in your wee shed, Mr Bayly," said Toby, his frustration giving way to anger.
"But what about Dominik? Have you killed him?" asked Arthur, relieved to have the thought of a diversion from his previous diversion.
"Killed him? Goodness no!" said Toby, laughing. "Just a wee prod in the kidneys. He'll be awake in five minutes or so. Just enough time for me to get the files and finish here." He opened the tool bag and Arthur felt sick all over again - all the work he'd put into the case and all the details he'd amassed ... to be taken by Karate Kid here.
"Where's the damned files, Bayly?" demanded Toby, tossing tools out of the box with increasing ferocity. "Another of your diversions, huh?"
"Uh, oh, they were there ... should be there ... I promise you," said Arthur, confused. He knew he'd put the files back in the bag at Lord Atkinson's house, he was sure of it. He stood up to help looking in the bag.
"Get back!" yelled Toby. "Stay there! Don't move!" Then he stopped and looked at the two ladies whose ropes were off. He had the look of a parachutist who realises there is a rip in his parachute that's growing wider with alarming speed. This was obviously not going the way Toby had planned.
Arthur felt a small surge of pleasure, despite Toby's ability to inflict pain. Toby now had, Arthur realised, three unruly children, a sleeping monster about to wake any minute and no files ... something that still mystified Arthur. He knew he had put them in the bag. Then, through the net curtains, he saw something flash past the window. It was gone in an instant but it gave him hope. In his fear and panic he had forgotten that there was another world out there - neighbours, passers-by - and he was not as alone as he had imagined.
"You're so clever, untying everyone, Arthur, I guess you need to be trussed up first," said Toby wearily. "Now, get your hands behind your back and your feet together."
Arthur did as he was commanded, while Toby looked in vain for the ropes he'd used on the ladies. Arthur could see, out the corner of his eye, Dottie was trying very hard to suppress a smile. It infected Arthur who felt at huge giggle rising up, knowing Toby could not find the ropes.
"This is not funny at all!" said Toby in frustration. "Now, where did you put those ropes, Mr Clever Clogs?"
"Uh, I'm not sure now," said Arthur, hoping Toby would not look at the floor behind the curtain.
"Not sure? Not sure!" said Toby looming over him angrily. "You were very sure where you put them a few minutes ago."
"Uh, yes ..." said Arthur.
"Look Arthur, there are two ways to do this - the easy way or the painful way," said Toby, obviously working hard to calm his troubled nerves. "Whatever you choose, I'm going to get those files out of here and so you'd better decide which way; that way of pain or the way of gain."
Arthur knew he should have felt threatened but, somehow, he didn't feel Toby really had his heart in the job. He just didn't seem to be a bad or evil kind of person. However, as Arthur reasoned, in the split second it takes to reason anything, he didn't actually know any evil people and how would he know what they were like. Dominik, for example, looked tremendously ferocious and evil but he used his force to combat bad men. It was a conundrum - should he stand for good or should he take the easy way out?
"Under the couch. The ropes are under the couch," said Joan quickly. He looked at her and she smiled and winked at him as Toby dived to the floor and fished around for the ropes which weren't there. Arthur's eye was taken by a flash of movement in the doorway and it was gone. He wondered, with all the stress, if he was losing his grip on life, if he was seeing things that weren't there. He didn't have time to wonder long as Martin's head appeared around the door, cautiously.
Arthur stared, unbelieving, then Martin's vigorous waving reminded him to act a little more moderately, even nonchalantly, which, given the tense circumstances, was a challenge for Arthur.
Toby stopped his frenetic activity and just stood there. Arthur looked at his face and he seemed about to cry or something.
"Bugger damn bugger, Mr Bayly. I'm just not cut out for this," said Toby wearily, walking over to Arthur. "This is just not working and I'm sorry, so very sorry, Arthur ... Joan ... all of you. I can't do this ... Please forgive me ..."
To Toby's side, Arthur saw Martin gesturing, again, but Arthur wasn't sure of the message, momentarily, then realised Martin wanted him to stand up. Unsure of why this was a good idea Arthur nevertheless did as bid, prompting Toby to take a step back. At the same time Martin had dived to the floor, on hands and knees, right behind Toby, who toppled over and crashed to the floor on the other side of Martin. Martin leapt upon the prone and stunned Toby and Arthur wondered what to do.
"Get something to tie him up with, Dad?" yelled Martin, trying to tame four lively limbs below him. Arthur faltered, as well he might, considering his lack of fighting and tying-up-criminal skills. "Sit on his knees, Dad, and tie his feet," yelled Martin as he struggled with the tossing sea of limbs below him.
"Uh, oh, of course," said Arthur, obeying his son. He grabbed the ropes from behind the curtain and leapt upon Toby's flailing knees with considerable panache, got kneed in the testicles, felt an unaccustomed anger arise and fought back with the ferocity of a man with his back to the wall. He received a boot in the face, a twisted and painful finger and his determination (or was it his panic?) lent him the force and agility to have, in double-quick time, the young man's legs trussed up in rather a pleasing combination of ropes and knots. Meanwhile, he was aware that the top half of Toby was faring better than the bottom as Martin let out several oomphs and ows. Flushed with success, Arthur got up to help Martin with Toby's more dangerous zone, just as a shadow filled the doorway.
"I get bad man", said Dominik, quietly, determinedly. His eyes looked black and threatening. He fell to his knees with his shins crashing over Toby's upper arms. Arthur fancied he heard a crack and he definitely heard Toby scream in pain. "You bad man. I give you punish."
"No Dominik! No!" said Arthur, realising what could be in store for Toby. "Just tie his hands behind his back. No need to hit him, Dominik!"
"He bad man. I punish," said Dominik flatly.
"No punishment, Dominik, just restrain him," said Arthur, with growing trepidation.
"Here Dominik, help me turn him over," said Martin, quickly deflecting Dominik's offensive to something more gentle. There was a shuffling of bodies, screams from Toby and he was quickly on his front with his arms behind his back.
"Martin! Martin!" came Joan's voice through the small cocoon of maleness. "Stop Martin. I think he's badly injured."
"And what was he about to do to you, Mum?" Martin shot back angrily.
"Martin, he can't do us any harm now," said Joan standing up. "Have a little compassion, Martin."
"But he's ..."
"But he's in a lot of pain, he's tied by the feet and his arms probably don't work," said Joan, pointing out the logic of the situation. "Help him on to this chair, tie his feet to it and we can see what's next."
Martin and Dominik were obviously ready to inflict more pain on this bad man. They looked at each other in brotherly connection, shook their heads sadly and lifted Toby to a sitting position on the chair with less gentleness than they could have managed. Toby's legs were tied to the chair and wh
en Dominik grabbed his left arm, Toby let out another ceiling-rattling scream.
"Stop! Stop!" yelled Joan, pushing Dominik aside. "We've gone far enough. Here, Dottie, you were a nurse. Can you look at Toby's arm, please?"
"It's my shoulder," whispered Toby, looking ashen and pained.
"You be careful, lady, he bad man," said Dominik, hovering helpfully behind her.
"No Dominik ... is that your name, Dominik?" asked Joan. "I'm Joan, this is Dottie and my son Martin." As Dottie gently manoeuvred Toby's arm on to his lap, Dominik and Martin shook hands.
"Please meet you," said Dominik, his ferocity softening a little.
"Now Dominik, he's not a bad man. He just did a bad thing and he won't do it again," said Joan with obvious conviction.
"Not bad man, just bad things," said Dominik as if chewing the new idea over. "So I stay if another bad thing he do."
"Yes, it's great to have your protection," said Martin, alternatively rubbing his sore cheek and tenderly checking his painful fingers.
"Ah, Mr Arthur, I have paper for you in van," said Dominik.
"Paper?" asked Arthur.
"Yes, paper on Lord Atkinson," said Dominik. "You know, paper in bag."
"Ah, the Atkinson file!" said Arthur as the realisation hit him. "You took it out of the bag?"
"Yes, I think bad thing to happen so I take from bag when you no look," said Dominik. "For your protection, Mr Arthur."
"Ah Dominik, you're a genius!" said Arthur.
"Me genius ... genius, what is this word?" asked Dominik.
"Oh, ah, you're brilliant, big brain, Dominik!" said Arthur, tapping his head.
"Ah, me genius, big brain!" said Dominik beaming as he gave Arthur a bear hug.
"Oh Dominik," said Arthur, his words muffled by Dominik's chest, "can you get the file now, please, now that Toby is disabled?"
"Yes Mr Arthur, I go now," said Dominik as he strode out to get the papers.
"Whew!" said Arthur as he collected himself and got his breath back. He could hear faint sobbing and turned to see Toby looking distressed.
"Dad, I think he's in more pain than we thought," said Martin, sounding worried.
"I think it's a dislocated shoulder - painful but not fatal," said Dottie efficiently. "I'll put him in a sling and we'll get him down to the walk-in medical centre. Do you have material for a sling, Joan?"
"Mmm, probably," said Joan as she led Dottie off to find something suitable.
"I'm really sorry ..." came a murmur from Toby's direction.
"What?" asked Arthur and Martin in unison.
"I'm really sorry, guys," said Toby, weakly. Joan and Dottie returned with a table cloth and Dottie had it quickly folded and tied up to hold Toby's arm, with accompanying grimaces from Toby.
"Thank you Dottie," said Toby, falteringly. "Thank you all for being so kind. I was not so kind to you at all."
"It was nothing. In fact, it didn't happen, if we're to believe A Course In Miracles," said Joan, smiling.
"Oh it happened alright! Look at Dominik's eyes - both black," said Toby as Dominik returned with Arthur's file. "That's what a punch in the kidneys does. It happened alright!"
"So you little man punch big man and I go down?" asked Dominik with obvious admiration as he handed Arthur the file. "So you teach me that trick or I break your face!" Dominik burst out laughing.
Arthur was shocked but realised it must be Dominik's rough good humour. He was still wary of the big man and so were the others, judging by the way they obediently laughed along with him.
"No problem, Dominik mate, when I get my arm working again," said Toby smiling uncertainly. "But ... but I feel so stupid, embarrassed, causing all this, thinking I could take advantage of you folk for a quick buck."
"A quick buck?" asked Arthur.
"Yes, after we had those two chaps apprehended at work, the word must have got around and a chap with a rough, gravely voice phoned me, asking if I would like three thousand pound for a morning's work."
"And you have no idea who this was?" asked Martin.
"Not sure ... ow! But he put half the money into my account immediately as a show of faith," said Toby shifting on the chair as the others sat down round him. "He paid two thugs to get the files from the office ... oh, of course, Arthur, you were there and escaped!"
"Ah, those two," said Arthur as a tremble up his spine accompanied the memory's return.
"Yes, those two," said Toby. "Well, they didn't get the files and I guess this Mr Gravelly Voice thought I had inside knowledge, coupled with discovering I disarmed his two bovver boys with knife and gun."
"You disarmed two armed men?" asked Martin with surprise.
"Well, sort of," said Toby, smiling. "Actually, they kinda' handed the gun and knife over and I took advantage of their clumsiness."
"Right, enough talk!" said Dottie, interrupting authoritatively. "The sooner we get this shoulder looked at the easier it will be to get it back into place. The swelling will not wait for our fascinating discussions."
"Yes Matron!" said Joan, saluting and laughing. "Arthur, untie your brilliant knots and let's get this silly boy to the doctor to be rearmed!"
"So, Martin, that was a clever trick, getting Toby to trip over you," said Arthur as they all settled back in the lounge with a cup of tea and with pastries that Toby had insisted on buying.
"Mmm, just a silly thing we did at school - amazing how inspiration hits when desperation bowls, as they say in cricket," said Martin, chuckling. "I just happened to be back here in Croydon with that conciliation work and thought I'd ring to see how you were. And you were yelling for help! And Dad, I've never seen you so ferocious! I'm glad you were on my side, you quite frightened me!"
"Yes, rather surprised myself, I must say," said Arthur, laughing.
"The fearsome four! Quite a team," said Joan, smiling at Arthur. "Now, Toby, this Mr Gravelly Voice, he seems to be a crucial figure. We need to find out more about him - who he is and who he's working with."
"I wish I could help," said Toby, juggling a cup of tea and food with the one hand not in a sling. "He called on my mobile and the rest of the money will be transferred electronically, just like the first amount. I know no more than that ... wish I did now. Guess I just didn't think it through at the time. God, I feel so stupid."
The Chase
Tuesday, 13th March 2012, 8.32 p.m.
Mary was shocked to see Halee as they met, as agreed, outside Starbucks, in Orange Street that evening "My gosh, is that really you, Halee?" she asked. "You're usually dressed so, um, demurely at work."
"I thought if I drew attention to myself, you'd be noticed less," said Halee, adjusting her top which revealed a large acreage of ample and hitherto undisclosed cleavage. She was obviously not used to wearing such revealing attire.
"You've done us proud, Halee, and I feel quite odd in Ahmed's suit," said Mary. "I must try to act like a man and, to be brutally honest, I'm actually quite nervous. Would you like a drink; a wine or something, beforehand?"
"That would be nice George ... I suppose you have a man's name?" suggested Halee.
"Uh, I hadn't thought of that," said Mary. "Right, how about a drink, Mavis?"
"Mavis? Thanks a lot!" said Halee chuckling. "I'd rather keep my head clear so perhaps a coffee now and wine afterwards?"
As they sat in the café, looking out at the busy night life of the city, Mary imagined an Indian man nodding to her as he passed. She felt slightly uncomfortable. Actually, she felt quite uncomfortable about a number of things - the mysterious Indian, wearing men's clothes, how to behave with a junior staff member in these strange circumstances, what was about to happen, what had happened to Sam. In fact, as she thought about it, there was little she felt comfortable about; like her whole life, really - the missing zygote feeling that never left her, the sense of feeling different, not feeling connected to her parents ...
"Good, Ahmed's on the case," said Halee, breaking into Mary's thoughts.
; "Oh, that was Ahmed? I didn't recognise him out of his pinstripe suit," said Mary as the confusion evaporated and she tried to focus on what she had to do - talk like a man, walk like a man, act casual with Halee, hand over the case at nine o'clock ... and then what?
"What's in the case?" asked Halee. "It must be valuable."
"I don't know. I didn't dare look inside," said Mary, about to reach into her bag for lipstick and then realising she didn't have her handbag with her. What to do with her hands now, she wondered. "I just don't want to know."
"Maybe I'm just too nosey." said Halee. "I'd want to find out straight away!"
"Yes, part of me wants to know and part of me doesn't want to know what could go wrong," said Mary, stirring in her sugar.
"Do you normally have four spoons of sugar in your coffee?" asked Halee.
"No, of course I don't! It would be vile," said Mary, confused by the question.
"Well, your coffee now has four teaspoons of sugar in it. It's official!" said Halee with a smile. "You must be nervous!"
"Ugh!" said Mary, testing her coffee. "You're right! I wonder how that happened." She wondered if she was losing control of herself and shuddered.
"Miss Collins, may I suggest something to you?" asked Halee.
"Yes, I suppose so," said Mary as a worried lump of something rose in her stomach.
"I think - I may be wrong - but I think you're in love," said Halee, tentatively, perhaps fearing Mary's reaction.
"No I'm not!"
"I suspect you are."
"No I'm not!" said Mary defiantly. "Yes, I do respect Sam but I'm not in love with him. That's silly."
"How did you know I meant Mr Lord?" asked Halee, smiling mischievously.
"Oh!" said Mary, momentarily nonplussed.
"You. Are. In. Love. With. Sam. Lord," said Halee, slowly and deliberately. "And, believe me, when that happens, all logic and control fly out the window."
"Oh," said Mary, unable to summon up any more words.
"Look, if you admit it, accept it, you have an excuse to be as weird as you like," said Halee, laughing. She sipped her coffee and held Mary's eyes with her own. Mary was stumped. She'd sort-of admitted it to herself in moments of weakness but now it was out in the open and, like a new-born baby, impossible to put back.
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