Die Tryin'

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Die Tryin' Page 25

by Stavro Yianni


  ‘So good to see you, love,’ Jocelyn said, who Nick noted, was a big, hearty woman.

  ‘Hi, Lynne. It’s been too long, girl,’ Carla replied.

  Nick just carried on looking around, paranoid about being on the street with a bag full of jewels.

  ‘This your fella?’ Jocelyn asked in her Brummie accent, diverting the attention towards him.

  Carla turned round to face him. ‘This is Nick. I told you about him.’

  ‘Indeed you did,’ Jocelyn said and put out her hand.

  Nick smiled, took her hand, and shook it lightly. ‘How you doing?’ he said.

  ‘All right, love,’ she replied.

  ‘Thanks for letting us stay here for a few days,’ Carla said.

  ‘Yeah, we really appreciate it, Jocelyn,’ Nick added.

  ‘Call me Lynne. And it ain’t a problem. You guys can stay as long as you like.’

  Like came out loike and for a second Nick thought of country bumpkins sipping cider in corn fields, and he realised just how little he knew about England outside of north London, how uneducated he was.

  ‘Nick’s got one or two family problems he needs to sort out, then we’ll be out of your way,’ Carla informed her.

  Nick nodded at Jocelyn, and gave her a slight shrug. Family problems. That’s right, my Greek brethren are after my blood, but apart from that everything’s cool, oh, except my Alzheimer’s suffering gran who’s been possessed by the bloke we killed and buried.

  What bloke?

  Ah, well you see it goes like this…

  ‘Families, eh?’ Jocelyn said, rolling her eyes. ‘Always the same. Problem after problem…’ Carla smiled ruefully and then slapped Jocelyn lightly on the shoulder. Jocelyn laughed. ‘Anyway, get yourselves insoide, and we’ll have a coppa.’

  Jocelyn ushered them both into her house. Carla went in first. Nick took another look round him, somehow feeling like he was being watched, like he could feel Tony’s eyes on him. He told himself that was paranoid nonsense.

  How the hell could Tony know he was here?

  He laughed to himself, and stepped inside Jocelyn’s house, suddenly feeling a little more secure than before.

  *****

  Tony looked round him, his face scrunched up in confusion.

  ‘Where the fuck are we, re?’ he asked, just staring at his surroundings like he had just stepped onto Mars. ‘What is this shit?’

  ‘Wolverhampton,’ Nick XR2 stated.

  ‘Wolver-where?’

  ‘Ach. Birmingham. All right, Tone? Birmingham. You heard of Birmingham, right?’

  ‘Yes,’ Tony replied stoutly as if he had just his intellect questioned. ‘Place looks like the 1970s, apart from the Mosque on every street corner.’

  ‘Muslims, re,’ Nick informed him. ‘There’s a lot of ’em up here.’

  ‘It’s like fucking Islamastan,’ Tony noted.

  ‘Islamabad,’ Nick corrected him.

  ‘Yeah, there too. In fact, those two places combined,’ Tony added, and took a swig of Stella.

  Nick just kept quiet and carried on driving, following the GPS resting on his knee. Nick Black had stopped somewhere in town, and had been stationed for a while, telling him that he had reached his destination. Now all they had to do was catch up with him.

  ‘Never been to Birmingham before,’ Charlie said from the back seat. ‘Never left London.’

  ‘You’re joking!’ Tony exclaimed, and turned his head to the side.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Not even to Cyprus? You must have been to Cyprus.’

  ‘Never. Never been anywhere,’ Charlie said despondently.

  ‘What? So, this is like a holiday for you?’ Tony asked.

  Charlie shrugged. ‘I suppose.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Charlie,’ Tony reassured him. ‘Once you get your money, you can have as many holidays as you like. All first class.’

  ‘I don’t want any of that dirty money. It’s cursed.’

  ‘I’ll pay for it then,’ Tony said before taking another swig of Stella. ‘Flight. Hotel. Spending money. All on me.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘No maybes about it. You’re going,’ Tony insisted. ‘You gotta go and see where you come from. How do you know where you’re going if you don’t know where you come from?’

  ‘Very philosophical. You been reading Plato?’ Charlie asked.

  ‘Play-toe?’Tony echoed. ‘What the fuck’s Play-toe?’

  ‘Rest my case,’ Charlie said, dryly.

  ‘Plato, Tone,’ Nick said, studying the GPS device furiously. ‘Ancient Greek philosopher.’

  ‘Ah, you trying to get clever with me again, Charlie? Like back at the pub?’

  ‘Well, you’re talking about not knowing where I come from, and getting all high and mighty, and you don’t even know who Plato was. Ancient Greece is where we came from. At least partly…’

  ‘Listen, Charlie—’ Tony began, and then stopped mid sentence and looked around him, disorientated. They were parked in between a line of cars on a street with rows of low terraced housing that seemingly ran forever into the distance. ‘Why have we stopped?’ he asked Nick, who was staring at the GPS.

  ‘Cos… Nick Mavro’s around here somewhere.’

  Tony looked around him again. ‘What do you mean somewhere?’

  ‘According to this, he’s in one of these houses.’

  ‘Which one?’ Charlie asked.

  ‘I don’t know exactly,’ Nick said in one of his ‘blagging’ voices.

  ‘Don’t that thing tell you?’ asked Tony.

  ‘It’s not that accurate. It can only tell me that he’s on this road, in one of the houses about twenty metres up. Which one exactly, I can’t say for sure.’

  ‘Well, what do we do now?’ Tony asked, throwing his hands in the air.

  ‘We wait,’ Nick said to him and sat back in his seat. ‘And when he comes out, we go talk to him.’

  *****

  Nick Black glanced apprehensively out of the window again, checking the street below in both directions.

  ‘Will you stop looking out of that window!’ Carla snapped.

  ‘I can’t. I-I got this feeling,’ Nick replied, scrutinising the street. ‘Bad feeling. Can’t explain it.’

  But, he could, just didn’t want to. It was a feeling of inevitability, of being unable to escape one’s fate. Nemesis. An inescapable enemy watching over him—Tony/Marco, which one? Maybe both. His mind fizzled with paranoia and regret. Did he do the right thing taking the jewels? Had he bitten off more than he could chew? Had he set off something that would be impossible to reverse if everything went tits up?

  He glanced down at his hand and saw that it was shaking, visibly shaking.

  ‘Well, looking out of the window every two minutes isn’t going to make you feel any better,’ Carla said, and he knew she was right. He forced himself to step away from the window and join her on the bed. They were in the spare room in Jocelyn’s house, the one she saved for guests.

  Carla placed a hand on his leg and he almost jumped out of his skin. ‘Why are you so edgy?’ she asked. ‘We’re safe here.’

  ‘I-I know, it’s just…this feeling…’ He glanced over at the window.

  Carla put a hand under his chin and pulled his face towards hers. ‘I know how to put your mind at rest,’ she said, her eyelids half closed, a dreamy stare in her eye.

  ‘Yeah?’ he asked in a soft tone, and moved in to kiss her.

  Just as his lips touched hers, Yiayia’s face popped into his mind, her wrinkly, hair lined mouth wide open; her black rotten teeth on display; her eyes flashing with hatred.

  I’m gonna fucking kill you for what you did to meeeeeeeee! Now give your yiayia a kissss!

  Nick jerked his head back, jumped up off the bed, and went straight over to the set of drawers where he placed the holdall.

  ‘Ooh, what’s wrong with you?’ Carla snapped, agitated to the extreme. ‘Earlier on you were telling me I was the one who was w
rong for feeling anxious, and now you’re like this! Snap out of it will you!’

  Nick picked up the bag. ‘Look. It’s only three,’ he said, glancing at his watch. ‘Let’s go to town now and try and flog these. I’ll feel much better if we do that.’

  ‘Are you sure about that?’ she asked dryly.

  ‘Yes. I-I just want to get shot of these and get the cash, then I’ll feel a lot calmer. Okay? Come on. Let’s go.’

  ‘All right, all right,’ Carla said, exasperated, showing him her palms. ‘As long as we can get some peace.’

  ‘Yeah, you will. Get your shoes on.’

  ‘Yes sir!’ she said, and gave him a sarcastic salute.

  Nick went over to the window and checked the street again. Not a thing moved.

  He glanced back over his shoulder to see Carla slowly putting her trainers on. ‘Hurry up,’ he said, and looked back out of the window.

  ‘I’m going as fast as I can!’

  When she finally got them on, Nick grabbed her by the hand. ‘Go tell your cousin we’ll be back soon. Okay?’

  He led her down the stairs, his rigid grip on the holdall causing his knuckles to turn as white as bone. Carla stepped into the kitchen where Jocelyn was making them their dinner. The aroma of chicken and potatoes wafted out of the door.

  The smell of it made Nick feel nauseous, when really it should have made him feel ravenous as he hadn’t eaten for hours. But, he wasn’t in the mood for food. He wanted to get this shit sorted. Now.

  He rocked on his heels while he waited for Carla, that horrible, sick feeling of Nemesis not leaving him alone for even a second.

  *****

  ‘Sky.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Street.’

  Tony took a swig of lager. ‘Uh-uh,’ he said, and shook his head.

  ‘Sunroof.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Give up.’

  Tony took a massive gulp of lager, some of it dribbling down his chin and cheeks. He then held up his can triumphantly. ‘Stella,’ he said, and grinned, staring at the can the way a man deeply in love stares at his woman.

  ‘I should’ve fucking guessed,’ Charlie groaned as he fell back in his seat. He puffed his cheeks in absolute boredom. ‘How long are we gonna wait here for him?’ he asked.

  ‘As long as it takes,’ Nick said, watching the street like a hawk.

  ‘But he might stay in there all day and night,’ Charlie noted.

  ‘He’s got a point, re,’ Tony said. ‘How long can we sit here before the neighbours get suspicious and call Old Bill?’

  Nick sighed, and checked the time. It was a little before three. ‘He’s got to come out at some point. I mean he’s got to find a buyer for the jewels. He’s got to buy food for fuck’s sake! We just have to be patient. And as for the locals—fuck ’em, we’re not breaking the law. Let ’em call Old Bill, we ain’t got no dead bodies in the boot this time…’

  Tony chuckled. ‘Yeah. But, re, I need a piss, man.’

  Nick looked sideways at him. ‘What do you expect? You’ve been draining cans of beer since we left London!’

  ‘Yeah, well… now I need to piss it out. And unless you want me to do it in your car…’

  ‘Like fuck. You’ll have to find somewhere round here to do it!’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘I don’t care! Someone’s garden. Anywhere. Or tie a knot in it.’

  ‘Nah, I can’t, re. It’s about to come out.’

  ‘Well, you better get a move on then.’

  Tony tutted and swung the door open. He dropped his crushed can on the tarmac, and then stepped out. He closed the door and looked round in both directions—the place was bare housing all the way. No nooks. No crannies. He felt his bladder start to scream at him and it got him moving. He lunged forwards, looking left and right for anything. An alley, a garage, fuck it a porch would do. But all he saw was wall-to-wall housing, the place looked like one long house with the same windows and doors staring back at him over and over again, and no front gardens. He kept going, then looked back to see Nick’s XR2 was now in the near distance. He turned around again and tutted. Fucking shithole! Not even a single spot to piss. What sort of place has nowhere to take a leak?

  His bladder screeched again and he bent down and grabbed his balls. Fuck, I’ve gotta go. Now!

  He looked to his left and dived towards one of the houses, undoing his flies at the same time before he wet himself.

  *****

  Nick led Carla out of the house and towards the car. He looked around him nervously, edgy like he had a million pound bounty on his head. The street was dead; parked cars lined both sides of the road. He went over to Carla’s car, his head bowed, his grip on the holdall vice like. Once here, he chewed his nails anxiously while he waited for her to unlock the car doors.

  Carla went round to the driver’s side. She was about to open the door and get in when she caught something out of the corner of her eye. She stopped and looked up. A parked van had obscured the bloke with his back to her when she stepped out of Jocelyn’s house, but now from this new angle she could see him, and she couldn’t believe what she was seeing, so much so that she actually rubbed her eyes before taking a second look.

  It was him. Tony Savva. The bloke from the wedding. The bloke whose half of the jewels Nick stole. The bloke they were running from. Clear as day. Large as fucking life. Stood up against the front door of a house across the street, his head turned anxiously to the side.

  What the hell is he doing?

  Then she looked closer, and her hand shot up to her mouth in disgust.

  Oh my god, he’s pissing into the letterbox…

  ‘Nick…’ she said in an uneasy voice, totally unaware that she had even uttered a word.

  Nick looked up, his face scrunching up in confusion. ‘What? What’s wrong?’

  He noticed she was looking over to her right. Nick followed her eyeline, and what he saw there made his jaw drop in disbelief. And for a second, he thought it was a hallucination, a mirage—that he had been going crazy all day, and had now finally snapped. Tony was there with his cock out, shaking it into a letterbox he was holding open with his free hand.

  Nick was rooted for a second or two, his mind unable to digest what he was seeing. But somewhere deep down, his legs were telling him that he should run. Run as fast as he could.

  Tony then turned round. And now Nick’s mind believed wholeheartedly what it was seeing. It was him. It was him and this wasn’t a daydream or a hallucination—this was one hundred percent real.

  Tony zipped up his flies and took a sly look round to check if anyone saw what he had just done. His head stopped dead half way round because he locked eyes with Nick. They stared at each other for a prolonged second as if their eyeballs were attached by a long strand of glue.

  After another second, Tony frowned.

  ‘Carla. Get in the car,’ Nick said calmly, his eyes not breaking away from Tony’s stare like they were Blondie and Angel Eyes at the end of the Good, the Bad and the Ugly. But Carla just stood there, rooted, watching them both with wide eyes.

  Nick was the first to make a move. ‘Get in the fucking car!’ he shouted, before diving for the passenger seat.

  Carla sprang into life and darted for the driver’s side.

  ‘Oi!’ Tony shouted and began heading their way.

  Carla managed to get the locks open in seconds. Nick got in the car as fast as he could, placing the holdall on his lap. Carla slammed her door shut, fumbling her keys in her hand.

  ‘Come on, Carla. Come on…’ Nick said quietly, almost serenely, his eyes fixed firmly on the irate bloke storming towards them.

  ‘I’m trying!’ Carla snapped, jabbing her key into the ignition.

  Tony was close. Very close. Virtually close enough to touch the car. Carla flicked the ignition key round, pushed the accelerator down, and released the handbrake all at the same time. The car jumped forwards, just as Tony lunged.

  There was a
loud bump as his fists hit the side of the car, making Carla yelp. She held her nerve enough to then slide past him before he could land another blow.

  Thank fuck for automatics…Nick thought to himself as he spun round in his seat to see Tony running after them, shouting at the top of his voice.

  ‘Put your foot down!’ Nick told Carla, and she did.

  Tony started to get smaller and smaller in the rear window. Nick turned back to face her and spoke clear and slow. ‘Get as far away from him as possible, as fast as you can. Okay?’

  She nodded and did as he said, speeding up, hitting sixty in no time, the tyres burning across the tarmac.

  Her chest was heaving. ‘How did he find us?’ she abruptly asked.

  ‘I don’t know…’ Nick replied.

  ‘HOW THE FUCK DID HE FIND US, NICK?’ she screamed hysterically, banging on the steering wheel with her palm.

  ‘I said I don’t fucking know!’ Nick replied with anger, his palms open to the sides.

  And he didn’t have a clue. He looked around him, frantically trying to find the answer. It was weird. It was psychic. It was telepathy. It was aliens.

  ‘They’ve followed us…’ he began, working it all out slowly and logically. ‘So, they know where we’re going. That means they can track us…but, how…?’

  His eyes then fell upon the thing in his lap, and an alarm in his mind started blaring out what was akin to a metal detector passing over a stash of buried gold.

  His hand went involuntarily up to his head and he shook it in disbelief. ‘Oh my God!’ he exclaimed incredulously, unable to believe he had been so fucking stupid to fall for something like that.

  ‘What? What is it?’ Carla asked through her bout of anxiety, her head darting from the road to Nick, back to the road again.

  ‘It’s the bag,’ he said and glanced over at her with wide, frantic eyes. ‘They must have put some kind of tracking device in the fucking bag!’

 

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