by Jacqui Rose
Franny had been so tired, so stressed, and she needed her rest before it all became too much for her. Everyone had a limit. Even Franny Doyle. And whether she liked it or not, he was going to make sure she got her sleep.
Having made up his mind, Alfie quietly shuffled out of bed, picked up his jacket and tiptoed out of the room, closing the door behind him. It was his turn to take the lead, and the first thing he was going to do, hard as it might be, was meet Barry Eton on his own.
Opening her eyes slowly, Franny took a moment to wake and realise where she was. She stretched out in the warm, king-size bed, before suddenly glancing up at the clock. Shit.
‘Alf! Alf! It’s nearly quarter to seven! Alf! I’m going to be late!’ She jumped up, rushed down the stairs, but stopped as she saw a note pinned to the front door.
Hey darlin’, thought you should get some kip, so I’ve gone myself to meet Barry.
But don’t worry about me, I can handle it. Love ya. Alf x
Alarmed, Franny tore the letter off the door and ran outside into the street just in time to see Alfie drive off in her car. She yelled after him, trying to wave him down, screaming at the top of her voice in panic.
‘Alf, Alf, stop! Wait! No wait!’
Then watched as the car’s rear lights disappeared into the darkness, leaving her standing in the middle of the street, a sense of foreboding creeping over her as she began to shake.
The run-down estate in Walworth, South London, was where Alfie Jennings found himself walking. The place was neglected, and the large grey tower blocks loomed overhead. The children’s playground in the centre of the estate with its rusting swings and slides was full of a group of junkies noisily having an argument, and the boarded-up shops, complete with graffiti, ran along the bottom of the flats. The whole place was strewn with rubbish – empty bottles of wine, cans of fizzy drinks and beer – and Alfie couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in such a grim-looking place.
The arrangement had been to meet Barry and his friend, Alan, in the pub that was situated on the edge of the estate. Barry had given a description of Alan to Charlie, who’d passed on all the details to Franny, so he knew exactly what lowlife scum he was looking out for.
Apart from that, he had no idea what else to expect. Whether the boy he’d seen with Barry would be with them or not, he just didn’t know. This could just be an exercise for Barry to size him up, see if he could trust him. Though the one thing he knew for sure was that he needed to play it cool. He knew no matter how he felt, no matter what Barry said or didn’t, there was no way he was going to mess this up. He couldn’t mess this up, especially as he’d taken it on himself to go and have the meeting instead of Franny.
Taking a deep breath, Alfie, outside the White Lodge pub, leant on the wall. He could feel his legs trembling, which gradually took over his whole body, sending his muscles into spasms as if he were cold. He could also feel the sweat running down his back, and it seemed like he had ringing in his ears, and all because any minute now, he was going to have to face Barry Eton.
About to step inside, Alfie felt his phone vibrate. He pulled it out of his pocket, thinking that it would probably be Franny, but he frowned, seeing a text.
DID YOU ASK FRANNY WHAT SHE DID?
He stared at it, confused, the pulse on the side of his jaw beginning to throb. This was the third, maybe fourth text like that he’d had, and he still hadn’t the slightest of ideas what it was about. He knew he needed to deal with it, speak to Franny, but at the moment, he couldn’t take any more, handle anything else. His head was already all over the place as it was. And right now, it was the closest he had felt to Franny for a long time, and selfishly, he didn’t want that feeling to end.
Stuffing his phone back into his pocket, Alfie took another long breath before walking inside the pub.
The place was dark, and it smelt of sweat. A few old men sat in the corner saying nothing to each other and a woman, who looked to be in her mid-sixties but wearing a tiny mini skirt and a tight blue low-cut blouse, sat at the bar on her own, knocking back the whiskey.
Glancing around, Alfie spotted Barry’s friend, Alan. The description Charlie gave Franny was almost exact. He was small, barely touching five foot three, in his early thirties, and dressed as arranged in a blue shell Nike tracksuit and baseball cap with a red letter A on it. To Alfie, there was no doubt he was a smackhead. There was something about the way he was standing at the bar, jogging up and down on the spot, nervously looking around, his pupils wide and dilated, like he could certainly do with a fix.
Alfie, feigning confidence, walked up to him. ‘Where’s Barry?’
‘He ain’t here.’
It was with a mixture of relief and disappointment that Alfie said, ‘But we arranged to meet.’
Sniffing, and agitated, Alan shrugged as he bit down on one of his dirty nails and spat it out on the floor.
‘He thought it was best that I came first, check you out. Who knows, you could be the filth.’
Alfie leant in. ‘Do I look like the Old Bill to you? This was arranged by his son, so it’s hardly likely is it? I’ve known his son for a while, so he was vouching for me.’
Disinterested, Alan said, ‘You can’t be too careful these days, can you, mate? And Barry, well he likes to know exactly who he’s dealing with before he goes into business with them. I’m Alan by the way.’
Alfie answered drily. ‘I know but I ain’t here to make friends. I want to speak to the organ grinder not the monkey.’ Alfie said this as he slid himself with a threatening air of menace next to Alan, perching himself on one of the wobbly wooden stools in front of the bar.
Now chewing on another of his dirty fingers, looking more agitated than ever, Alan stared at Alfie. ‘Look, he ain’t here. Like I say, he sent me instead, so if I were you I’d be nice, otherwise I might have to tell Barry he shouldn’t be doing business with you.’
Alfie looked at Alan evenly. He could feel his irritation and disgust towards this man rising. Every part of him wanted to give Alan a good beating, but instead, he spoke quietly.
‘Whatever you say, but I ain’t happy – you see it feels like you’re taking the piss, like you’re wasting my time.’
‘Think what you like, mate, no one’s forcing you to be here, are they?’
‘No, I know that, but what’s supposed to happen, now? When am I going to meet Barry? More to the point, when am I going to sort out this product?’
Alan licked his lips. He stared at Alfie for a moment before saying, ‘The thing is, there’s a lot of people out there who says they’ve got the money, but really all they want to do is have an eyeball at the goods. Barry needs to know you’re good for the dough.’
‘Of course I am, otherwise I wouldn’t be here, would I?’
‘Then Barry needs to see it.’
Alfie frowned. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘He’s here. Barry’s here, but he just didn’t want to come to the pub himself, not yet anyway. So, think of me as his messenger. You give me a deposit, I take it to Barry and he’ll come down and see you.’
Alfie sneered. ‘I’m not going to do that, am I?’
Alan began to move away from the bar. He pushed his hands into his pockets. ‘That’s the way it works; if you don’t like it, it’s no skin off my nose, mate. I’m just here to tell you what you have to do. If you’re not interested anymore, that’s fine.’
Alan turned to walk away and against his better judgement, Alfie called him back. ‘Wait! Wait! How much do you need?’
Alan blinked, and a nasty sneer on his face appeared. ‘A monkey.’
‘Five hundred quid?’
‘It’s going to cost you a lot more than that eventually. Barry needs to know you’re serious but as I say, no one’s forcing you. Say goodbye now.’
Nodding, Alfie thought of the little boy and Mia. This could be his only chance, so there was no way he could afford to let Alan just walk away. Barry wasn’t going to give them a
nother chance and if it meant giving this lowlife, Alan, some money to show Barry he was good for it, well that was fine by him. ‘Okay.’
Alan raised his eyebrows. ‘So, you’ll give it?’
‘Yeah, but I want to see Barry. Not tomorrow, not next week, today. You got that?’
‘Totally. If I take it now, I can be back within twenty minutes and let you know how long Barry will be.’ And with that, Alan scurried out of the pub.
An hour had come and gone, and Alfie was kicking himself for being so stupid. Alan was a druggie, and it was obvious by now that he had just taken his money and run. But then, what else could he have done? He could hardly have said no to him. If there had been a chance to meet Barry, he hadn’t wanted to risk messing that up for the sake of five hundred quid, and as such, he’d had to put his better judgement aside. The other reason he’d given Alan the money was he’d hoped that it was true. He’d hoped what Alan had said about meeting Barry was true because it would’ve meant being one step closer to rescuing that little boy whose haunted eyes reminded him of his own, when he was around that age. But now, now he was steaming, and he wasn’t going to leave the estate until he got his hands on Alan.
34
Driving around the back of the estate, Alfie’s gaze darted about. Suddenly he slammed on the brakes as he caught a glimpse of Alan, wandering over an area of wasteland behind a large block of flats.
Pulling over as quickly as he could, Alfie jumped out of the car and sprinted across to where Alan – who’d just looked over his shoulder – was.
Fear was pencilled over Alan’s face as he began to run, whilst Alfie screamed after him. ‘Oi! Oi! I’m going to fucking kill you! You hear me! Alan! Alan!’
Terrified, Alan squealed like a pig as he headed towards the underground car park, hurtling along and slipping on the wet ground as he did so.
Coming to the entrance of the flats’ car park, Alfie looked left and right, unable to see where Alan had gone. But he knew that he couldn’t have gone far, and one way or another Alfie was going to find him.
Walking in, Alfie bent down, picking up a small scaffolding pole, which had been discarded along with a heap of household rubbish, tipped in the corner.
‘Alan, mate! If I were you, I’d give up!’ As Alfie spoke he looked under all the parked cars, tapping the pole in his hand.
‘Come on, you know you can’t get far, mate. You want a bit of advice? The longer I can’t find you, the more pissed off I’ll be, and you know what I’ll do then, Alan? I’ll take it all out on you.’
He continued to walk further down the slope towards another set of garages, his eyes darting around. The tiniest of noises behind him had Alfie spinning around. He stared into the shadows, working out where it was coming from. He listened again – yes, there it was, over by the lock-ups.
Slowly, he walked towards the sound. ‘Alan? Give it up, mate.’ There was no response as Alfie stood by the thin gap between the two garages. He couldn’t see down it; it was too dark, but he could hear that someone was there.
Suddenly, in a hopeless attempt to escape, Alan sprung out, but not before Alfie’s foot booted him hard, tripping him up and causing him to sprawl across the concrete.
‘Going somewhere are we?’ Alfie stood over Alan. He brought back his foot, kicking him in the ribs. ‘Now, I want some answers. Where’s Barry? And where’s my money?’
Alan, who was groaning on the floor, shook, as the kids on the estate – used to regular fights in the area – stood around barely interested, paying more attention to the smashing up of an abandoned car by the lock-ups.
‘You owe me some money, mate. I hope you haven’t spent it on that shit you like to take. You really picked the wrong person to mess with.’ Alfie pressed his foot on Alan’s back as he squirmed underneath him.
Covered in dirt, Alan stuttered. ‘Listen, I’m … I’m sorry, mate.’
‘I’m not your mate, and how about I show you just that, you piece of scum.’ Alfie kicked Alan in the side again, the sound of cracking ribs echoing around the underground car park. Alan screamed out in pain, staggering for breath before curling up in a ball.
Alfie prodded him with the piece of metal scaffolding. ‘That was just for starters, and if you don’t tell me what I want to hear, you’ll see what the main course is like. Do you understand?’
Alan nodded his head as he whimpered. ‘Yeah, but I don’t know much.’
‘I’ll be the judge of that. So, my first question is, was this just a setup to mug me off? Is this what you and him do? Get some punter and rip them off? Is that your game?’
‘No … no. He did send me, but … but not to take your money. I was desperate.’
Alfie jabbed the pole in Alan’s ribs. He yelled out in agony. ‘Just answer the question! I ain’t interested in any hard-luck story, you got me? I mean, where do you get off taking my money and going off to score?’
He stared down at Alan. He wasn’t going to risk going into his pockets, knowing that there was a good chance he might have a dirty needle in them.
‘Turn them out.’ Alfie prodded his foot against Alan’s pockets.
‘I swear I’ve got nothing, I spent it all.’
‘Well then, you’ll have no problem showing me, will you?’
Seeing he clearly had no choice, Alan eased his hand into his pocket, grappling for the money Alfie had given him.
Begrudgingly, clearly having hoped to keep hold of the money, Alan sulkily said, ‘Okay, here, but it’s not all there.’
Swiping the screwed-up notes from Alan’s hand and taking a quick look around, Alfie crouched down. ‘There you go … See, that wasn’t too hard, was it? Now what might be harder is trying to get the truth out of you. Do you think that’s possible?’
Alan nodded but said nothing else as Alfie continued to talk. ‘So, is he here? Is Barry really nearby?’
Holding his ribs and still shivering on the ground, Alan muttered, ‘No. He just called me up and asked me to come and meet you. He just wanted to make sure you seemed all right. Sometimes he does that, gets me to do little things like that for him.’
‘Then where is he?’
Alan’s eyes stayed firmly on the scaffolding pole Alfie was holding. ‘I dunno, I ain’t seen him, and that’s God’s honest truth. He just asked me to wait for you, so I guess he’ll be in contact soon.’
Holding down his temper, Alfie asked, ‘And if he isn’t?’
‘I dunno, Barry is a law unto himself.’
‘Yeah, apparently so.’
Back in the car having gotten all the details from Alan, Alfie sat and stared, gazing up at the moon as his emotions overwhelmed him. What he’d heard Alan talk about so casually, so matter-of-factly, was something that he’d never forget, something that he knew would haunt him forever, and the worst thing about it all was that he knew this woman in Doncaster was just the tip of the iceberg.
And as he continued to stare up at the full moon, shining bright in the clear February sky, Alfie Jennings began to cry.
35
Having sat and waited nervously at the window, Franny finally saw Alfie driving up the street. Part of her didn’t want to go and speak to him, terrified of what he might’ve found out, but she supposed it was better to face what she needed to. Not bothering to put on her shoes, Franny dashed out into the street, running through the puddles to greet Alfie.
Out of breath, she sprinted to where he was parking, and although she knew it might be her paranoia, her fear, Alfie’s face looked strained. Breathlessly she said, ‘Alf? Alf?’
Stepping out of the car, Alfie’s expression was pained. ‘Franny.’
Concern coated Franny’s words. ‘Alf, is everything all right? I mean, whatever it is, I can explain. I can explain everything.’
‘What?’
She spoke rapidly. ‘I know I don’t know him, but I do know you can’t trust what Barry said. He’ll be telling you anything to get himself out of trouble. He’ll be saying stuff that you
can’t take seriously.’
Slightly confused, Alfie said, ‘I never saw him.’
Huge relief immediately passed over Franny. She let out a long sigh. ‘Really? How come?’
Alfie, emotionally drained, shrugged, unable to tell Franny the story yet.
‘So, where’ve you been? I was worried. I tried calling you. Like I say, I thought, maybe Barry, you know, had said some stuff to you.’
Exhausted from the evening, Alfie gazed at Franny, noticing the strain in her eyes. ‘Like what?’
On edge, Franny chewed on her lip. ‘I … I don’t know, but I understand how difficult it would’ve been. Look, I just want to be here for you.’
Alfie smiled, feeling his own relief at seeing Franny. It was exactly what he needed. He kissed her on her head before bringing her in to his chest, holding her close. ‘I didn’t see Barry, but I’ll explain everything later. You know the other guy we’d arranged to meet, Alan? Well he was there. Piece of scum. But I think we’ve got a lead.’
Franny drew away from Alfie’s embrace. ‘About Mia?’
He shook his head, and spoke sadly. ‘No, not yet anyway, but I’m sure once we go and speak to this woman, we can get some proper answers.’
Breaking down, something she hated to do in front of Alfie, Franny sobbed. ‘Where is she, Alf? Where’s she gone? I’m so scared I’ll never see her again … I mean, my friend’s scared she’ll never see her baby again, and of course, I feel responsible.’
‘Maybe I should meet this friend of yours. Speak to her, let her know that we’re doing all that we can. Perhaps she has some ideas herself. Maybe it would take the strain off you if I did.’
Alarmed, Franny shot down the suggestion quickly and firmly. ‘No!’ She took a breath and, composing herself, lowered her voice. ‘No, thank you, but no. Like I’ve said before, it’s hard enough already for her. We’ll sort it ourselves. It’ll just make it worse for her.’