by Paul Blake
Alec watched his friend work. He was in his fifties but looked a decade younger. His shaven head nodded in time to the beat, large headphones covering his ears, Alec knew the left one was torn up, the result of a fight twenty years ago. Makary kept his focus on the mixing desk in front of him. Alec was tempted to walk straight up to him but held back. When the hostess arrived back with his drink, he asked her to give a message to Makary, a fifty Euro note smoothed the transaction. He stayed in his chair and drank his beer and waited. The woman on the stage came to the end of her dance, rapidly spinning around the pole as the music’s tempo increased and ended in the splits as the music stopped, leaving a pause soon filled by applause from around the room, Alec included. Alec could see the dance had left her breathless as her chest rapidly inhaled and exhaled, with a smile on her face, she stood up, bowed and left the stage. The generic dance music restarted. Alec saw the hostess move round to the DJ booth and speak to Makary. She pointed in his direction, and Makary looked over, his eyes widened, and his mouth opened. Alec raised his glass in salute. Makary glanced at his watch and held up his hands, fingers signalling against his palm, twenty minutes. Alec smiled and nodded his agreement. Makary shook his head in disbelief and dismissed the hostess. She came back round to Alec.
‘Would you like some company while you wait?’ She asked.
‘No, danke, another beer would be nice though.’ He replied.
‘No problem.’ She said and walked away, Alec watched her go, her hips swaying invitingly, in her lingerie. Stop it, Herr Creep; she is far too young for you. He drank the rest of his beer and thought about how to handle Makary.
He is bound to be angry at me. The last time I saw him, he had just helped me out with a problem. I had to store an informant for a couple of days until a safe house vacated. I couldn’t use any hotels, as they require ID for each guest. Makary sorted out an apartment in the Neukölln district, amongst the Polish community there. My informant was well looked after and has returned since to meet up with the people who cared for him. Makary is a part-time DJ and part-time black-market smuggler, specialising in arms, drugs and information. He has been a good friend to me in the past; I just hope he is not too angry with me. I’ll have to come up with a reason for my absence. Alec looked up and saw Makary looking at him, Alec grinned, Makary returned the grin. I can tell him I was posted to Britain or another European country for the past eight years; he knows I work out of an embassy, just not which one. I’ve dropped subtle hints over the years about Russian or as it was then, Soviet treatment of the Poles after the war, and made sure I carried those ghastly Russian cigarettes and always made a point of bumming a Western cigarette from him and savouring the taste. Yes, I’ll blame the Russians, he should believe that, and it should let me off.
With that settled in his mind, Alec finished off his beer just as the hostess brought over the new one.
‘Thanks,’ Alec said, giving her a ten Euro tip, ‘Can you bring over a couple of whiskies when Makary finishes his set?’
‘Of course.’ She said, with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She mustn’t have forgiven me for snubbing her company; it’s worth money to her after all.
Alec sat drinking his beer, foot tapping to the generic beat. His fingers danced in time, the familiar ache for a cigarette. They are a great way of wasting time when you’re waiting, he thought.
‘How you been you old fart?’ Came a deep voice from in front of Alec.
Alec looked up, ‘Makary!’ and stood up.
Makary held out his arms and walked closer to Alec and squeezed him tightly in a rough embrace. Alec returned the hug, even though it hurt his back. There was a moment of manly back-slapping, and they parted.
‘Come sit,’ said Alec. ‘It’s great to see you.’
‘You too, Stefan, you too,’ said Makary, ‘it’s been too long. I thought you’d forgotten about your old friend.’
‘Never, Makary, I’ve been away, on business, the company sent me to England if you can believe it. Miserable place, always raining, and the beer, God, it’s good to be back in Germany.’
The hostess brought over the two whiskies Alec had ordered. He gave her another ten Euro. She smiled at Makary, not at Alec, and left.
‘I’m glad you’re back, we’ll have to catch up properly when I’m not working.’ Makary said, lifting his glass in acknowledgement to Alec.
‘We will. Definitely,’ Alec said, copying the gesture. ‘I saw Brigette; she told me you were here.’
‘I see her around occasionally; she’s not doing too well.’
‘Yeah, I could see that. That’s one tough life for a person.’
‘I would have thought you’d have taken her with you, you always were very close.’
‘My bosses would have thrown a fit if I had. A Rus… An embassy official taking a prostitute to London? They would have sent me straight back home.’ Alec laughed, mirthlessly. ‘I feel bad for her, I didn’t realise I’d be away as long as I was, I should have sorted something out for her, got her off the streets.’
‘I usually slip her some cash when I see her,’ Makary looked at his watch. ‘I’ve got to head back for a bit. Are you going to stick around?’
‘Actually, there’s another reason I’m here, I need a favour from you.’ Alec held up his hands, ‘I know I shouldn’t ask.’
‘It’s cool, we’re like family, you know. Family looks after family.’
‘That’s a big relief, I’m in trouble, serious trouble.’
‘What do you need?’ Makary asked.
‘A phone and, if possible, a gun.’
‘What do I look like? Siemens Mobile?’ Makary laughed, ‘That shouldn’t be a problem, do you need any other help?’
Alec knew that Makary was offering his specialised protection services, ‘No, I should be ok with that. If I do need you for that are you still on the same number?’ Alec rattled off a series of numbers from memory.
‘How the hell do you do that?’ Makary asked, impressed, ‘Yeah, that’s still my number.’
‘Magic,’ Alec said, making an arcane gesture with his hands. ‘I’d tell you, but I’d get kicked out of the Magischer Zirkel.’ The Magic Circle. Makary laughed.
‘Alright, keep your secrets, Stefan. I’ll find out one day.’ Makary stood up, Alec followed suit. ’I’ve got to put on a song for the next dancer, then get your stuff. Stick around for a while, enjoy the club’s hospitality, you look like you need it!’ He punched Alec in the upper arm, deadening the nerve, ‘Damn, it’s good to see you.’ He walked back to the DJ stand.
‘You too, Makary, you too.’ said Alec to his friend’s back, as he sat back down, rubbing his arm. He signalled to the hostess and held up the half-full beer glass. She nodded and turned to the bar.
The music changed and ‘Schools Out’ by Alice Cooper blasted through the speakers, there was a loud cheer from one of the booths by the stage. Alec lifted his head and saw what the noise was about. On the stage a new dancer had come out, she had her dark hair in pigtails, she was wearing large rimmed glasses and dressed in a school girl uniform, well the stripper version anyway, high heels, hold-up stockings, tartan miniskirt, white blouse tied up at the bottom exposing a flat stomach. Are those freckles drawn on her face? Really trying to sell the look, and it was working. Alec could see the backs of the loud party in the booth, three of the men were standing up, trying to get as close as they could to the stage for a better look, the other four in the booth were cheering them on. Alec smiled and looked back down at his drink, picked it up and swallowed.
He heard a commotion coming from the stage and looked up. He could see the club’s bouncer rushing towards the stage, where the dancer was screeching at a man, is he wearing a dress? Alec asked himself, it can’t be. He stood up for a better view. The bouncer had arrived and pushed the man in drag back, the rest of his companions got to their feet and started shouting and gesticulating at the bouncer and the dancer. Seven men, one’s wearing a dress? That can’t be th
e stag party from earlier, could it? Alec stood up for a better look. That’s Peter and his mates. I better go and help them, before they bring the Police here. Alec walked over to the booth.
7
‘Come on mate, he was only having a laugh.’ One of the group said.
‘No need to get all Naz—’ another started to say.
‘—That’s enough of that.’ Alec said, interrupting the comment that would have quickly caused a beating. ‘Guys, sit down I’ll handle this for you.’
‘Stefan?’ said Peter. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Just sit down, all of you!’ Alec said, his voice raised. ‘Peter, sort these guys out, or they’ll end up in a cell for the rest of the night.’ He turned to the bouncer and the dancer.
‘It’s okay, tell me what happened.’
‘Who the hell are you?’ said the bouncer.
‘I know these guys, this isn’t their normal behaviour. What did they do?’
The dancer screeched in German, ‘That one in the dress stuck his hand up my skirt while I was dancing,’ and pointing at the group, ‘you filthy pigs!’
The men started to argue again, Alec turned around and shouted at them to shut up.
‘He can’t do that. They’ll have to go,’ said the bouncer. ‘They are the club rules, or I can call the Police.’
Oh crap. ‘No, there’s no need for that, I’m sorry about him, English drunkards, you know how they are. German beer is too strong for them; they’re too used to drinking that piss water they call beer.’ He smiled, as the bouncer nodded in agreement at the state of the English. ‘I’ll sort them out. Make them behave. It won’t happen again, can they stay?’ As he was speaking Alec pulled out his wallet and took out a number of bills. Both the bouncer’s and the dancer’s eyes were drawn to the money.
‘I am really sorry, perhaps this could make up for the offence caused, ’Alec said, as he handed three hundred Euros to the dancer, ‘and perhaps the club rules could be bent?’ He handed the same amount to the bouncer. One good perk of the promotion I got to Head of Section is that I have access to petty cash funds, I’ll put this down to ‘informant expenses’ and claim it back. I’ll definitely have to go to the ATM though.
‘Any more trouble from them, they and you will be out of here.’ The bouncer said, putting the money in the inside pocket of his coat.
The dancer took the money, looked at the men sitting in the booth, spat at the floor in front of them, then turned on her heels and strutted to the back of the stage and went through the curtain.
‘There won’t be any more problems, I promise. I’m sorry, I’ll deal with them.’
The bouncer took a long look at the group, shook his head, and said, ‘If he waited until the end of the dance, he could have had a lot more than a grope up a skirt, a lot cheaper too.’
‘Thanks.’ Alec said. ‘I appreciate it.’
The bouncer walked back to the doorway. Alec turned to the group.
‘What the hell were you thinking?’ He demanded.
‘Sorry Stefan,’ Peter said.
‘Yeah, sorry mate.’ The rest of the group said, apart from the groom to be who appeared to have fallen asleep on the sofa.
‘Come and join us,’ said Peter, ‘we owe you a drink, at least. Come on guys, move up, and give Stefan some room.’
Alec shook his head at their behaviour and sat down with the group, between Peter and the now snoring groom.
‘Stefan, what the hell are you doing here? We last saw you hours ago at the tube station.’ Peter said.
‘I came here to see an old friend,’ Alec pointed to Makary at the DJ booth. ‘I only knew I was coming here thirty minutes ago. I see you guys found the place ok.’
‘It wasn’t too hard, we got off at the stop you said and then asked a couple of passers-by for directions. I’m sure one of those we asked was a prostitute.’
‘You did ask for directions to the Reeperbahn,’ Alec laughed, ‘not what you expected?’
‘Not really, seems very seedy. Is it legal? In the UK you can get arrested for kerb-crawling.’
‘Kerb-crawling?’ Alec asked, playing dumb, not knowing English idioms. ‘What’s that?’
‘You know, picking up prostitutes on the street.’
‘Oh, I see, yes it’s legal in Germany. I wouldn’t recommend it though, from what I hear, it’s not the most romantic, or even, sexiest experience.’
‘What do you mean?’ Peter asked.
‘I heard that they take you to a nearby car park and you do the business there.’
‘Really?’
Alec pulled a face of disgust and nodded.
‘I’ll let the guys know, doesn’t seem like the nicest or safest way of getting your rocks off.’ Peter changed the subject. ‘Stefan, how much did you pay the dancer and bouncer? We’ll have to pay you back.’
Alec thought for a second, the money doesn’t mean anything to me, it’s not mine, and normally I’d tell them not to worry about it, but it might make them curious about how I can write off so much money for people I’ve just met.
‘A couple of hundred, or so, we can sort it out later. It’s not a problem.’
The hostess came over with the beer Alec had ordered at the previous table, she approached nervously. Alec saw that she wasn’t too keen on getting close to the group. He stood up and said to her in German ‘It’s okay, nothing like that will happen again. I’ll make sure they give you a decent tip at the end of the night,’ he smiled his most charming smile. ‘Can you get beers for the rest of them and add it to his tab?’ Alec pointed at the sleeping stag.
The hostess nodded and went back to the bar.
‘So, Peter, how long are you and the guys here in Berlin?’ Alec asked.
‘We have another two nights; this is our first night here. We didn’t plan to get so drunk so soon, to be honest. Hopefully, it won’t spoil the rest of the trip.’
‘What have you got planned? Sightseeing or just bar crawling?’
‘None of us have been here before, so we planned to do the touristy bits during the day and then hit the bars and clubs at night. We want to see the Berlin Wall, Checkpoint Charlie, Hitler’s Bunker, and there are a load of museums we want to see.’
‘You’ll have a problem with Hitler’s bunker.’
‘Really? How so?’ asked Peter.
‘We covered it over with a car park. There’s a plaque there which is the only thing to signify it was ever there. It was important not to turn the place into a shrine. Turn it into a holy place for the wrong elements.’
‘I suppose that’s a fitting gesture. Is the wall still standing?’
‘There are sections still there: The East Side Gallery is about a kilometre long covered in art, or what passes for art. A bit too modern for my tastes; there is some at the Topography of Terror Museum—’
‘—that’s on our list, the museum about the Nazi atrocities, isn’t it?’ Peter interjected, ‘Oh I’m sorry Stefan, are you ok talking about this? I don’t mean to be insensitive.’
‘Don’t worry about it. It’s not like that British comedy… the one in the hotel… “Don’t mention the war!” with the man from Monty Python…’
‘Fawlty Towers?’ Peter suggested.
‘Yes, that’s the one. Very funny, even for us Germans. We are open about what happened during that time, it’s the best way to prevent it happening again. Older Germans, well, older than me at least, are more sensitive, they were closer to that time than us, so it was more their shame.’ I think I’m being authentic, that’s how it was explained to me when I came over to Berlin back in the late Eighties. However, I never found Fawlty Towers that amusing; I think I was too young to get the humour and by the time I was old enough I just didn’t find it that funny.
‘What is it you do Stefan?’ Peter asked.
‘I’m a beamter… a civil servant in the Federal Ministry for Family Affairs, Senior Citizens, Women and Youth.’
‘The what?’
‘Basically, it revolves around looking after families and different generations, children and their grandparents. We Germans, believe the family is very important and looking after it makes society better. What do you do, Peter, and the rest of the group?’
‘I’m a corporate lawyer, so is Simon over there,’ He pointed at one of the group, sitting sullenly, and waiting for the next dancer to come out. ‘Mark is in wine; John, the groom is an actor, that’s the reason for the dress…’ He paused to see if Alec would want that explained, but Alec just nodded, typical stag-do behaviour, Acting seen as less than a manly profession, hence the dress, ‘It was Simon’s idea, anyway, where was I? Oh yes, John’s an actor; Dave is an estate agent, Alan an accountant and Anthony, or Tony, as he prefers to be called, is a market trader.’ As Peter mentioned the rest of the group, he indicated which man went with each name.
‘That’s quite a group, how do you know each other?’ Alec asked.
‘We all went to school together and kept in touch. Simon got me a job at his company after I left the army.’
‘I thought you had a military air about you, either that or you play rugby.’ Alec said, having noticed Peter’s physique, broad shoulders and composed demeanour, ‘Why did you leave? If you don’t mind me asking, of course.’
‘It’s okay, it’s not a secret. I joined the army when I left school; it was something I had always wanted to do. Back in 2006 I was stationed in Afghanistan and deployed to the Helmand Province, I’m sure you’ve heard of it.’
‘Of course, that was where your Prince Harry was sent, wasn’t it?’
‘I heard he was there, I never saw him though. Anyway, we were in Sangin on patrol, five of us in a Land Rover, stuck in a traffic jam; I think a car had broken down ahead or a cart or something. We were all on our guard, in case this had been a planned ambush. I saw our CO, Commanding Officer go as pale as a ghost and followed his gaze. I saw an Afghan boy approaching the vehicle with a basket from a side road; he must have been around six or seven years old, wearing dirty and ragged clothes, one of his sandals was broken and flapped with every stride.