“It’ll be interesting to see their reaction, if we all have a little chat.”
He knew the owner of the voice before he turned to face him.
Turning, he found himself staring into Arne’s chest. Raising his head slowly, he discovered Arne staring at him from above.
“Samson, what the hell are you doing here?”
Ron took a step backwards, intrigued by this development.
Bloody hell, he’s a big bugger.
“I may ask the same of you,” Arne replied.
“Now, you keep out of my affairs Samson,” O’Leary stuttered, “that horse is mine and you know it!”
“Do I now?” Arne asked, his eyes intensely boring into O’Leary’s.
“And do you remember a promise, I made to you Corey?”
“What promise is that Samson?”
“That, if you ever laid one piece of harm to that horse, I’d be paying you a visit?”
“I haven’t touched him!” O’Leary exclaimed.
“No, you had your dogs ready to do that!” Robert stated, from nearby.
“Is that right Corey?” Arne said, grasping him under his armpits and raising him high off the ground, placing him against the side of the van.
“Those two savage beasts, in the yard by any chance?”
“Put me down! Put me down! Brendan, do something!” O’Leary yelled.
Brendan remained stock still, petrified into immobility.
The sound of distant bells could be heard in the distance, getting closer.
“Now then Corey,” Arne said quietly, “you’re going to leave the horse alone and get back to where you came from, otherwise I’ll be having that little chat with the police we mentioned, understood?”
O’Leary stared at him, then to the crowd alongside the distant figure of Comet, surrounded by David, Iris and the children.
Lowering his head, he closed his eyes and nodded.
The sound of the bells was louder now, punctuating the air.
“So, we agree then?” Arne asked.
“Yes,” O’Leary replied quietly, “we agree.”
Lowering him to the ground, Arne gently patted at his shoulders.
“Good, glad we understand each other,” Arne said, “because if I ever hear, you’ve did...”
“Ron!” Pam’s voice shouted from further along the street.
“Ron!”
They all turned as one.
In the distance, at the other end of Harrowby Street, dark, thick, vast, pillars of smoke arose behind the distant houses, masking the blue skies beyond.
“What the hell?” Ron uttered.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Not only the residents of Harrowby Street, but dozens of those living in the other nearby streets, raced towards the direction of the smoke, billowing higher into the air, its tendrils twisting and turning snakelike as it rose.
“Jesus H Christ!” Ron exclaimed, as they ran into the cul-de-sac.
The terrible scene ahead, reminded several of them of the scenes they experienced during the blitzes a few years previously, dense smoke billowing across the street in waves.
Within the chaos, Ron saw the fire brigade personnel had already arrived.
They were unravelling a hose from the back of a fire tender, the source of the earlier sirens, currently parked in front of a large piece of metal fallen across the width of the street.
The Fire tender stood impotent, unable to proceed any further past the obstruction lay ahead of it.
Ron ran straight to the men stood around the tender, pulling the hose from its confines.
“What’s happened?”
“Jesus Ron, what are you doing here?” the man replied, glancing up at him.
Staring at the man knelt in front of him, Ron realised it was Peter Sorrell, who played billiards with him.
“What’s going on Pete?”
Turning slightly from his crouched position, Peter pointed to the blazing building ahead of them.
“Bloody thing has gone up in flames.”
“I can see that Pete,” Ron replied, looking to the burning building, “but why are your lot sat back here?”
“Can’t get past that bloody great thing,” Pete exclaimed, pointing at the large piece of metal obstructing the road.
“We may just let it let burn itself out, there’s no bloody getting anywhere near it.”
“Look!” A man stood nearby cried, pointing to the top windows of the fiery building.
“There’s somebody in there!”
Ron and Peter stared in the direction of the man’s outstretched arm.
In one of the upper floor windows of the blazing building, they saw the figure of a girl, waving her arms and screaming soundlessly through the glass.
“Bloody hell!” Ron exclaimed.
“Grab the rubble!” He shouted to the people massed behind him.
The mass of people surged forward, scrambling to move away the rubble with their bare hands. Men, women and children, worked in unison to remove the mound in front of them.
“Is there no way around this thing Pete?” Ron shouted.
“We can’t get to the building Ron,” Peter replied, desperately pulling the hose, passing it to one of his nearby colleagues.
“The whole of the bottom floor has caught up like bloody tinder. We need to get the ladder there, but we can’t get past that thing. We’ve tied it to the tender but it’s not bloody budging!” He exclaimed, pointing at the fallen stanchion.
Moving away as much rubble as possible, sweat already poured from the crowd of people, toiling to clear the obstruction.
“It’s no good!” A man cried, trying to shift the massive piece of metal.
“There’s no way we can move that thing!”
“Is it still tied to the tender?” Ron asked.
“Yeah, but it’s not the longest rope in the world and that bloody thing isn’t budging at all,” Peter replied, “it’s going to rip the axle off the thing as it is, unless the rope snaps first.”
A large group of them attempted to pull it away but to no avail, the stanchion would not budge.
“Is there another car or anything anywhere?” Ron asked.
“My wagon won’t fit down here.”
“It’ll be too late Ron,” Peter replied, “we need to move it now!”
Running to Ron, Robert shook him by his sleeve.
“What is it Rob?” Ron asked, staring at him.
More people ran across, attempting to shift the stanchion. But it remained where it had fell.
“Comet,” Robert said, amidst the chaos around them.
“What?” Ron asked, looking back to the young lad at his side.
“Comet. Archie said Comet could shift a tank if he had to!”
Ron looked to where the horse stood, before turning to Peter.
“Would it work?”
“Can’t hurt Ron and we have to try something right away, before the fire works its way any further towards the upper floors, otherwise…”
Ron stared at the figure of the girl in the window.
Another figure now stood alongside her, both hammering frantically on the glass.
Ron waved his arms above his head.
“We’ll get you out!” He shouted, uncertain if they heard him over the noise of the crackling fire, appearing to have taken on a sentient, demonic life of its own, as it continued to consume the building.
Turning his gaze first to Robert, he then stared into the eyes of Iris.
“Could he do it love?”
Iris was only just taking in the scene of chaos in front of her.
It felt the Germans had returned, the sky filling with acrid smoke drifting towards them.
She felt the heat of the flames from where they stood, even at this distance away from the building.
“He, he’s been a bit poorly but...”
“He can do it, our Iris!” Robert cried, looking at her pleadingly.
“I don’t know Robert
,” she replied.
“If there’s a chance, then we have to go for it,” Ron said, staring at the sight of the building, the conflagration reaching higher.
“How are we going to attach the stanchion to him?” Peter asked.
“We need to get a rope or something, to wrap around a bare piece of it.”
“There is some back in O’Leary’s van. I’ll go and fetch it,” Arne said.
Ron nodded at him, Arne nodding in return.
“Be quick my friend.”
“I will be.” He replied.
“Can I help you?” Daniel asked.
Arne looked at the short boy, taking in he wore a brace, before turning his gaze to the boy stood alongside him.
Robert stared up at him.
He had not seen a man as muscular, nor imposing as this man in his life, but this man stood up O’Leary and that was good enough for him.
“Our Dan can’t run very fast.”
“If I may young man, may I carry him then?” Arne said, smiling warmly.
Nodding in assent, Robert watched as the huge man lifted his brother up, the act performed with a tenderness, he would not have expected from a man so huge.
Placing Daniel upon his shoulder, Arne sprinted to the street, where the previous festivities were underway.
To Daniel, the moment was an adventure itself, riding upon the huge man’s shoulders, racing through the streets.
Entering Harrowby Street, they saw the sight of O’Leary before them, stood at the side of his van whilst Brendan fitted a spare wheel onto it.
“What the hell do you want?” He demanded.
Arne approached them, slowing to a stop, Daniel sat astride his shoulder.
“We need the big rope from the van.”
“Go take a run and jump, you are not having it.” O’Leary said, staring at the billows of smoke rising over the rooftops.
“I will ask you nicely one more time Corey, please give me the rope.” Arne said, gently placing Daniel onto the pavement.
“There are children in the big building, it’s on fire!” Daniel exclaimed, pointing to the smoke.
“Aww is that right little boy, maybe they will end up having their poorly legs bandaged up, like yours must have been,” O’Leary replied, sneering at him.
“That’s it,” Arne said, taking a step to the other man.
“Is it?” O’Leary said, taking a couple of steps backwards.
“Lads!”
From the other side of the van, four men stepped onto the pavement in front of him, Brendan and Tony standing a good distance away from them.
He recognised three of the men, but did not recognise the fourth, stood holding a motorcycle chain in his hands, though he felt certain he had seen him at O’Leary’s yard at some point.
“Step back young man,” Arne said, gently but firmly to Daniel.
Daniel moved backwards, before feeling a hand upon his shoulder.
Turning quickly to look at the hand, he caught sight of a tattoo of a swallow on it.
Looking up, he found the face of Ron, staring ahead at the other men.
“Go back to your brothers, son, you shouldn’t have to watch this,” he said, without turning his intense gaze from the four men facing them.
Arne turned his head for a second to look at him.
“I thought you might need a hand carrying the rope my friend,” Ron said, approaching him.
“Not sure about some of you,” Ron stated calmly, “but I certainly recognise you Henry McCluskie. Now, be a good boy and put the chain down before I wrap it around your bloody neck and string you from a lamppost with it.”
Henry dropped the chain onto the pavement and fished inside his pockets, bringing out a handful of notes, which he quickly thrust into O’Leary’s hands.
“What are you doing? Are you a bloody coward or something?” O’Learyasked, a surprised look upon his face.
“No Corey, I’m not a coward, but I’m not bloody stupid either,” Henry replied, “look, sorry Ron mate okay?”
Ron stared at him with grimly.
“Bugger off now Henry, but one thing before you go.”
“What Ron?”
“If I ever hear you have laid a hand upon your missus or kid again, I will break every bone in your body.”
Henry stared at him, with an expression of embarrassment and shock.
“I’m not being funny Ron, but what happens between me and my family is between us.”
“Then you’d better pick up your chain then, because you are going to need it alright?”
“You hit your wife?” Arne said, taking a move towards Henry, before Ron stopped him by placing a hand upon his huge chest.
“Leave him for me my friend.”
“Wait please,” Arne asked, “while I ask him a question.”
“Be my guest,” Ron replied.
“He called you McCluskie, is that right?” Arne asked.
Henry’s eyes betrayed confusion and fright, awaiting whatever question was forthcoming.
“Yeah,” he managed to utter, glancing at the chain on the floor.
As quickly as a snake, Arne grabbed him by the shoulders. Henry desperately tried to release himself from Arne’s grip, but the grasp was like a vice.
“You and I are going to have a little talk, Henry McCluskie,” Arne said, leading him around side of the van, “let’s go around here, so the little one doesn’t see what we are discussing.”
Henrys eyes widened in panic, looking at his colleagues as Arne pulled him as effortlessly as a child.
They glanced at him, shaking their heads and returning their gaze to Ron.
“Right,” Ron said, nodding at Arne, “now, where were we? Oh, that’s right. Time for a talk as you three chaps seem so eager to chat.”
The three men looked at one and other.
“You’re kidding us, right?” The largest of the trio asked.
“Oh, I’m not kidding Blue, believe me, we need the rope and we need it now.” Ron said, walking slowly to them.
The other men looked at each other, uncertainty spread like a contagious rash across their faces.
“Fine,” the larger of them said, flexing his head from one shoulder to the other, the bones audibly cracking.
“You’ll do first,” Ron said, lunging at him.
Grabbing him by the shoulders, Ron brought his head back before thrusting his forehead forward, square centre into the bridge of the man’s nose.
Blood gushed from the man’s nostrils, as he staggered backwards, hands rising to his face.
“Who’s next for a Kirkby kiss then?” Ron asked.
The other two men stepped backwards, but Ron was too quick for them.
He swung his left fist up under the chin of the nearest man, who flew backwards upon the impact, hanging in the air for a split second, before crashing unceremoniously to the ground.
The other man stared open-eyed in astonishment for a second, before Ron’s fist connected with his chin.
The force of the blow threw his head back and he staggered for a moment, before folding and falling onto the pavement.
“Anybody else?” Ron said, glancing at the figures of Brendan and Tony.
They stood speechless and motionless, until Ron’s stare awakened them from their trance.
Turning, they ran along the street.
“Where the hell are you two going?” O’Leary shouted, before finding himself hoisted from the ground and placed against the side of the van by Arne, holding him tightly in his grip.
The sound of Henry’s groans were clearly heard from the other side of the van.
“What the fu…?” O’Leary began.
“I do believe you have an apology to say to somebody,” Arne said, nodding his head to Daniel.
“What?”
“Say sorry,” Arne said, gesturing to Daniel.
“Are you joking?”
Raising him further up the side of the van, Arne stared into the other man’s wildly open
eyes.
“Do I look as if I’m kidding?”
O’Leary looked towards the young boy.
“I’m, I’m, I’m sorry.” He managed to utter, feeling the strength of Arne’s grip tightening.
“And we can have the rope, can’t we?” Arne asked.
“Yes, yes, take the bloody thing.”
Arne lowered him to the ground, as Daniel rushed to them as fast as he was able, placing a kick toCore O’Leary’s shin with his ‘good’ leg.
“You’re a nasty man.” Daniel said, staring at him.
“Why you!”
“I really wouldn’t,” Arne said, tightening his grip.
“Just take the rope!” O’Leary managed to say.
Arne released his grip and the short man fell in a crumple to the ground.
Daniel went to kick him again, before Arne placed a large hand gently on his shoulder.
“We never hit somebody when they’re down son,” he said gently.
Daniel looked away from the man sprawled on the floor, into the face of Arne.
“But, somebody hit David when he was on the floor,” he said earnestly, “I heard Iris and Mam saying it.”
“That still does not make it right son,” Arne said.
“All good?” Ron asked him.
Arne looked at him, whilst gently lifting Daniel onto one shoulder
“All good,” he paused, “my friend.”
Ron joined him and, after locating the long thick heavy rope, they grasped it between them, before running to the billowing tower of smoke.
By the time they returned, both the crowd and flames were larger, the flames reaching higher now, the noise of crackling wood clearly heard over the sound of the crowd.
A police car joined the fire tender.
Two constables stood nearby speaking to Peter Sorrell, as he pointed first to the stanchion, then to where Comet stood, David holding tightly onto his reins.
“Don’t I know you?” The constable asked, approaching David.
“Constable Robertson,” David replied, instantly recognising him, “we met in the hospital.”
The constable stared at him for a moment, before a glimmer of recognition appeared across his face.
“Ahh, David, isn’t it? Good to see you up and about son, shame the circumstance isn’t a good one,” he said.
“That’s alright Constable” David said, interrupted by the sound of the thick, heavy cords of ropes landing on the pavement next to him, dropped by Arne and Ron.
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