He drifted around a bit more then popped back to the hotel. The morning was ebbing away and it seemed like no real progress was being made. Gary was having some small success with the hotels in that they were offering the information under emotional pleading but no one under the name of Adams had booked into any he had checked with so far. He stopped for a quick drink, lager this time as it was now after eleven and then took to his bike again, this time he found himself at Leidsplein, another little area of debauchery he thought as he saw the clubs and bars dotted around the streets in front of him. This seemed promising. He parked his bike without locking it as no one else seemed to bother either and took a seat at an outside café called EAT ME INSIDE OUT. He was presently greeted by a waitress and ordered a BLT and an Amstel. He settled in and started to scan the crowd. There were many more people out now and the outside bars were beginning to fill up with Hen and Stag parties, twenty-first birthday parties and even the odd fortieth. He even saw a balloon with ‘sixty and still fucking’ on it! He crossed his fingers and thought I bloody hope so and smiled.
Back at the hotel Gary Sparks, a grown man of forty-one was walking around punching the air. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘Yes. Fucking Yes!’ After what had felt like a lifetime of having the same conversation, a young receptionist at the City Hotel, Rembrandtplein had confirmed that a Mr. Adams and one companion had booked in Thursday morning for two nights, with the option of two more. He grabbed his city map and looked up Rembrandtplein. It wasn’t too far at all, a ten-minute walk, if that. George would be over the fucking moon and he would be golden-balls for at least a couple of days, he may even forget the debacle on the boat on the way over after this! Gary grabbed the phone, ordered a large bottle of Heineken and opened the windows. The beer arrived and Gary Sparks sat, feet out in the Amsterdam morning, waiting for George to get back.
By one, George and Gary were sitting in the Vauxhall Astra watching the entrance to the hotel. Gary had been applauded, the bike had been returned. They had both showered again and had clean clothes on, courtesy of the hotels rapid laundry service. In the car, they had snacks, drinks, papers and magazines. George was determined not to let this one get away.
‘Gary,’ George said, nodding at the shop across the road from them, ‘go and buy a camera. Not an expensive one, just a little click and go. It might come in handy.’
2.24 Post E
Tom and Pascale woke up in each other’s arms. He couldn’t help but think, after all the grief, that something truly good had come out of the scariest situation he had ever been in. He looked at Pascale. Was it the post E feeling or was he in love? It had to be the E he mused. Must be. He kicked Lassie’s leg, but it took another dig to the shins before he came round from what had been a spacey and sweaty dream.
‘Fucking weird, Tom, I dreamt I was kissing this big fat bird and as I was kissing her, her lips went from covering my mouth to the bottom of my chin and top of my nose, then basically my head was in her mouth and then she swallowed me and I was inside her stomach and it was all red, but I could breathe and could even see out of her belly button. No one could hear me but I could hear them, and then you kicked me so I have no idea how it would have ended.’ Lassie looked slightly put out that he had been robbed of the end of his dream.
Tom laughed, ‘Fuck off, Lass, I can tell you how it ended – with you ended up being shat out an hour later, covered in shit and all thin and tall from going through her sphincter!’
Their laughter woke Abi, who laughed along after the whole dream had been explained to her.
They all showered and Pascale opened the windows, which allowed the glorious sunshine in and dispersed the stink of four sweaty post rave casualties. Tom stood and looked out of the window across the city. What kind of job could he do here he thought, tourism? Could he go to college here? Would it be in English? Could he teach English? Now that was an idea…
He felt a hand on his bum and a little pinch. ‘So, Tom, where about is your hotel again? We should start out soon, it’s a lovely day. When we’ve got your bags we could have a drink somewhere nice.’
The tram was almost silent, just sounding the odd bell to remind pedestrians of their presence as they approached. It was barely a five minute journey to Rembrandtplein.
‘Wow, cool. Look at that!’ Since they had checked into their hotel the day before a fun fair had been assembled in the middle of the square. Lassie was over the moon. ‘We’ve got to spend an hour or so here, Tom, I wanna win Abi a stuffed toy!’
‘Course, we can do that.’ Lassie was such a top bloke, Tom thought. He dragged him all over the place and the sight of a funfair he was away with the fairies again.
‘Let’s sort out the bags first, it’s nearly one and we had to be out by two at the latest.’
Hand in hand, both couples made their way over the road, past a big nightclub, past the pub and around the corner to the entrance to the hotel.
Chapter 46
‘Click’.
2.26 Let’s get out of here
They waved at the receptionist.
Tom said, ‘Do you two want to wait down here? It won’t take us long to get our stuff together.’
‘OK no problems,’ She said and the girls took a seat in reception.
The boys made their way to the stairs, ignoring the lift, which was in use.
When they were in the room, Tom said to Lassie, ‘Let’s get out of here ASAP. And don’t say anything to the girls about the money, OK?
‘I’m in love though, Tom, can’t we just stay and share it with the girls?’
Tom rolled his eyes, he fucking wished. ‘Get out of the clouds, Lass, this needs sorting out. And when it is, maybe we can come back?’
Both boys got changed into clean clothes and Tom, borrowing Lassie’s idea, stashed half of the guilders inside some socks, and then inside a plastic bag of dirty washing. He left Lassie about a grand to stash in his bag.
’You OK with this Lass? One more night at the girls, back on the Saturday day boat to settle up with those psychos.’
‘You’re about a grand short though, Tom, what are you going to do?’
‘Hope they’ll suffer it for a bit…? I might be able to raise a bit of cash when we get back. We’ll see. I’ve got to try though mate. Then that’s fucking me. I’m never going to talk to a stranger in a bar ever again.’
Tom was counting out the cash to pay for their room when the receptionist said, ‘Mr. Adams, in sympathy for your problems I have waived the cancellation fee. You had taken the room for two nights, but we understand that in the circumstances you have to leave early. I hope everything is OK when you return home.’
Puzzled, and immediately apprehensive Tom asked what she meant.
‘Your brother rang this morning, he explained that there had been trouble at home and he was trying to get in touch.’
Feeling faint, nauseous and mildly rushing from the E again Tom grabbed the counter. ‘Yes, of course, thank you. A terrible mess.’
‘Good luck.’
Tom looked in the reflection in the mirror behind the reception; luckily the girls had wandered out of earshot and were standing by the door, discussing restaurants for lunch. He turned to Lassie. ‘They know where we are staying, Lass. They’ve rung and been told I am staying here. We need to get the fuck out of here, now. Keep your head together though and follow my lead.’
With this, Tom and Lassie slung their bags over their shoulders and walked over to Pascale and Abi.
‘All done, come on, let’s get out of here!’
Chapter 48
‘Click, click, click’.
2.28 The Tram
‘OK, ladies, lunch?’ Tom stood, looking over their shoulders, scanning the streets, he could feel his legs shaking in his jeans and he was glad his bag gave one of his arms something to concentrate on, he imagined Lassie felt the same.
‘We were thinking the Mexican, just along the road there, and then the fair for Lassie?’ Pascale said as they started gigglin
g.
This didn’t work for them Tom thought. He needed another plan.
‘Lass, err, Mexican?’ The double Roger Moore Tom was sporting at this moment would have won the raised eyebrow world championships, if such a thing existed.
‘Err, to tell the truth, I’d rather get back on the tram and go somewhere we haven’t seen, what do you lot think? I’m really not bothered about the fair.’
The girls seemed surprised by the sudden change of heart but had a quick sign conversation and suggested a tram home to drop of their bags, and then a walk up to the park.
‘Sounds cool. Let’s go.’ Tom set off towards the tram at a brisk pace and broke into a jog when he saw the tram arriving. ‘Come on, let’s not miss it!’
When they had caught the tram, the girls laughed at them for running, explaining that there were trams every ten to fifteen minutes and there was no need to rush. But Tom and Lassie were just glad the tram was moving, taking them away from the hotel.
2.29 It’s an Automatic
‘Click’.
‘Got it, Gary. Slowly now, stay back, easy now...’ The Astra pulled away and followed the tram. George was beside himself with joy. The camera was a masterstroke, and as for those poor lemons, bringing those beautiful little lambs to the slaughter was the icing on his fucking cake. He would have grabbed the cunts as soon as they had walked out but when he saw they were with some girls he had started to formulate an even better plan. He just needed to find out where they were going next. Letting them run was definitely a gamble, but one he was sure would pay off.
‘Do not fucking lose them, Gary. Do not, under any circumstances lose these two thieving little fucking cunts. Each time the tram stopped Gary Sparks pulled up a way back. Very conscious of the British plates on the Astra, as was George who was now upset they not hired bikes again or at least a Dutch car.
‘Fuck it, Gary, if these plates blow our cover I’m gonna fucking burn it. Cunts. A bike would have been perfect, those trams are slow and stop every thirty fucking seconds!’
Gary reassured George as the tram slowly pulled away and the car followed.
‘Stop, stop, it’s stopping again!’
Shut the fuck up, cunt, Gary thought as George jumped around in the passenger seat. He’d already had three large Heinekens and didn’t want any undue attention. George should’ve driven actually, but who was he to tell this psycho maniac what to do?
‘There they fucking are Gary, they’re getting off the tram. There!’ George had them in his sights now. He watched them get off the tram, the boys looking about. ‘They haven’t got a clue we’re on to them.’ George was in charge again. For the last couple of days he had felt like a spare wheel running about looking for them, now though, he was back in the game.
‘Should we ditch the car, George?’ Gary asked.
‘I’ll stay with the car, Gary, you’re going to follow them. Quick, out of the car. They’re waiting to cross the road. I’ll park it over by the hotel and wait for you. George pointed to a Golden Tulip hotel twenty metres up the road from the tram stop. ‘Don’t lose them. Go, now!’
Gary grabbed his jacket, jumped out of the car and set off behind the group as they crossed the road. He followed them for about half a mile before they crossed again and walked up towards the big train station. They looked happy he thought as he sauntered along, a hundred metres or so back. He kind of felt sorry for them. George was an evil bastard and he now had something he could really get his teeth into. It was his favorite game: terrorising people by threatening their family or friends who had nothing to do with the situation. Just like these two young girls. He stopped as he saw them go up some stairs into a residential building. He waited and after about five minutes saw a window open on the top floor and one of the girls and one of the boys looking out pointing at something. He knew what he had to do. ‘Click, click, click’ went the shutter of the camera. He then stood directly opposite the building and took some shots of the front of the block. Jesus, part of him just wanted to throw the camera in the canal and fuck off somewhere and get away from this situation. He was done snapping, he popped the camera back into his jacket and walked back towards where George was waiting in the car.
George had sat patiently, looking at the city map, a traffic warden had asked him to move on but he had explained they had broken down and his friend, a mechanic would be back later. He saw Gary and wound down the window. ‘Well?’
‘Beautiful,’ George purred when Gary had told him what he’d seen. ‘Couldn’t have worked out better. Now I have a pawn, Gary, a bargaining chip. Leverage, Gary, beautiful, golden leverage. In fact, I’d go as far to say we’re on our way home.’
Gary handed over the camera.
‘Lovely Gary. Let’s just hope you had the fucking shutter open, eh?’ George joked. ‘You did though, right?’
‘It’s an automatic, George. Can’t really fail.’
‘Anyway,’ George said, ignoring Gary, ‘this is what we do next.’
George explained that Gary was going to walk back to the apartment block, watch it and follow them if they went out. In the meantime, George would go and get the pictures developed and take the car back to the hotel. Once they were settled somewhere like a bar or a restaurant Gary was to call George at the hotel and he would take it from there.
‘Fine with me, George.’ Gary got out of the car and walked back the way he had come. At least they were going home soon, though he still fancied getting a brass before he left. That bloke’s wife had given him the taste and he needed to feed that pony. He walked back to the apartment and found a café across the street, ordered a large Heineken and settled in.
2.30 The Most Beautiful Lips
Pascale took Tom’s hand and led him straight out onto the tiny balcony.
‘Look how lovely it all looks from here!’ They looked out across Amsterdam, Pascale pointing out the different landmarks.
‘It is beautiful, Pascale.’ Tom felt relaxed. No one could get at them up here. It was a place of safety. He put his arm around her.
‘So, what was going on at the hotel? Is someone looking for you? Are you in trouble? You were acting so weird. Sorry, too many questions.’
Tom shook his head. ‘No, not too many, and they all deserve an answer. It’s just a bit of a mess,’ he said with unintended understatement.
‘Tell me, Tom. It will be OK. Let’s go back inside, sit down with a drink and talk it through.’
They found Abi teaching Lassie some sign language on the sofa. Pascale went to get them all beers from the well-stocked fridge.
‘Lass, Pascale noticed how odd we were when we left the hotel, so I’ve decided to tell her what’s going on. They deserve to know, don’t you think?’
Lassie agreed with a single Roger Moore, which Tom took to mean to maybe not tell them absolutely everything. But he wasn’t sure how to leave bits out, or even which bits.
‘So,’ Tom said, ready to start. Lassie sat across from him looking very pensive indeed.
‘Slowly,’ Pascale said, ‘for Abi.’
Tom and Lassie both looked at the girls, waiting for them to say something. Abi began to sign for Pascale and both watched as Pascale concentrated intently, nodding along in agreement as the speed of her signing increased. She finished with the universal hands in the air ‘what the fuck do you do?’ motion that everybody understood and the boys then looked to Pascale.
‘You poor boys. You’re fucked,’ she said sadly. ‘It seems to us that none of this is really any of your fault. Meeting people, being kind, taking them shopping, having a good time, and then you end up with all this mess.’
Tom and Lassie nodded in agreement and said in unison, ‘Fucking scary!’
‘So, you think it was them who had found you at the hotel?’
‘Yes. No one else knows we’re here, apart from you two,’ Tom explained.
Abi signed and Pascale said, ‘But you have their money now, so it’s not that much of a problem, no?’
/> Tom made a murmuring sound, he hadn’t told the girls about Razor being crushed by the car or Lassie being punched and his firm belief that he was going to get a hiding at the very least… ‘Not all of it. Some of it is back in England. The plan was to see if this worked and then go back and try to sort it out.’ He smiled and then carried on, ‘Then we met you two and just wanted to spend time with you.’
Abi signed again for them and Pascale spoke. ‘She wants to know if you have put us in danger?’
Tom and Lassie looked at each other.
Tom answered. ‘Honestly, I’m pretty sure not. If they’d seen us they would have grabbed us and we’ve been in a warehouse raving and then sleeping. You two are fine.’ Tom paused.
‘Go on,’ Pascale said to him. ‘Is there more?’
‘Of course not, Pascale, no. It’s just that I really like you, we really like you,’ he said nodding at Lassie. ‘And I think we need to get this sorted sooner than later. So, time spent here with you is time for them to get angrier, even if, as you say it’s not our fault, and if we do bump into them here, which I’m pretty sure we won’t, I wouldn’t, or we wouldn’t want to drag you into it, would we Lass?’
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