by Mark Timlin
Mark laughed. 'Chas. Fuck me, I would've thought he'd've got his bus pass years ago.'
'Don't let him hear you say that.'
'Don't worry, I won't.'
They went together to the Bentley and the driver's window rolled smoothly down.
'Chas,' said Mark, squatting down on his haunches by the driver's; window. 'How've you been?'
'Can't complain, Mark,' the massive man in the driver's seat replied with a voice that rumbled like an old volcano about to blow.
'We're going for a ride together, Chas,' said Jenner. 'Then on for lunch. Mark'll drop me back home later. I'm on my mobile if you need me for anything.'
'OK, Boss,' said Chas. 'I'll be there. You be careful. Hear?'
'You worry too much, Chas. I'm in safe hands with Mark and our friends back there.' He pointed with his thumb to the Mercedes Benz.
'And you don't worry enough,' said Chas. With that he let the window glide up, put the car into gear and pulled away from the kerb, did a three- point turn and headed back the way'd he'd come.
Mark Farrow and John Jenner went together to the Range Rover, Marl pressed the button on his key fob and the car's lights flashed once, the horn beeped and the locks opened. Jenner went to open the front left-hand-side? door, then realised his mistake and walked around to the passenger side with a shake of his head. They climbed in, Farrow behind the wheel, where he keyed the ignition and pushed the heater control to full.
'Still at the old place then,' said Mark as they waited for the car to warm up.
'That's right. Just like always.'
'I'd've thought you'd've moved years ago. I was amazed when Dev told me you were still there. You must rattle around like a pea in a pod.'
'No. Chas lives there permanent now. And Martine's back.'
Mark looked surprised. 'Get away. Dev never told me that either. What happened to that husband of hers?' to that husband of hers?'
'She caught him over the side with some bird. It's a long story. I'll tell you while we're eating. And don't take the piss out of that old house. We had good times there, didn't we?'
Mark nodded.
'Anyway, it's worth a fortune now. I had an offer of half a million a few months back.'
'Half a bloody million. You couldn't give those mausoleums away a few years back.'
'Like I told you, it's a hot spot. Now come on, time's wasting. Drive.'
'Where to exactly?' Mark asked.
'Just head south. Don't tell me you've forgotten the way.'
Farrow shrugged, started up and did as he was told. They motored down to the East India Dock Road closely followed by the Mercedes, took the Rotherhithe Tunnel south, then through the Elephant, Denmark Hill, Horne Hill, along the Norwood Road, and as Jenner directed, took a right at Tulse Hill station and drove up Leigham Vale until they stopped outside an old Victorian heap of a school.
'Hitherfield Road Junior School,' he said when the Vogue came to a halt.
'Yeah. This is my old school,' said Mark.
'And mine. This is where we met, your dad and me,' Jenner said to Mark. 'Year one, seven years old.' 'When was that again, Uncle John?'
'Don't,' said Jenner. 'You're making me feel old again. Billy was crying those blue eyes of his out after his mum left him that first morning,' Jenner went on. 'Couldn't even tie his own shoelaces. I had to teach him.'
'And you gave him a bloody nose,' said Mark with a laugh. 'Just showing him who was boss,' said Jenner, laughing himself. 'And then he knocked your tooth out.'
'It was loose,' said Jenner. 'I put it under my pillow and got half a dollar the next morning. That's twelve and a half pence to you.'
'The tooth fairy,' said Mark Farrow. 'I never did see that little bugger, much as I tried to stay awake.'
'Nor me, I think it was a conspiracy.'
'Good times,' said Farrow.
'But don't it look small? The school.'
'Yeah. We grew up,' said Mark. 'Where to now?' Under Jenner's instructions Mark rolled the car through back streets towards Brixton and this time Mark recognised the route and shook his head in disbelief. 'Christ, not the Strand.'
'The very place,' said Jenner. 'Our next school. Strand Grammar. Always bloody together. I couldn't get rid of the silly sod. He never thought I'd pass my eleven plus. Mind you, nor did 1.1 always reckoned I'd end up at the Brixton School of Building with the no-hopers. But couldn't let my boy go to the big school all on his own. He'd have no one to protect him.'
'No one to get him into trouble more like,' said Farrow.
'You should've seen us, Mark,' said Jenner. 'That first day. All spiffed up like toffs. Caps, blazers, white shirts, grey shorts. Can you imagine it now? We weren't allowed to wear long trousers until we were in the second year. Reckoned we wouldn't get into so much trouble in shorts. Boy, were they wrong. The whole year our knees were skinned raw.' He laughed out loud at the memory and Mark joined in. 'Weeds, they called us new kids,' Jenner went on, 'and the older boys tried to put us head first down the toilets. We soon changed their minds though. Fuckers. They'd never seen a pair like us. Yeah, we showed 'em. Couple of them got bloody noses too, and they didn't try again. And we got threatened with six of the best by the head. We were shitting ourselves.'
'Did he do it?' asked Mark, intrigued at this insight into the childhood of the toughest man he'd ever known.
'No. We both cried our eyes out and he let us off. Crying with laughter more like. But he was always easy. Not like the bloke who took over from him later. He caned me so often I think I should have a permanent groove in my arse. I can't believe I let it happen, but things were so different then.
And I knew if my old man found out he'd give it to me double. Now I reckon the bastard was coming in his undies when he gave me six of the best. But he's dead long ago, and I danced with joy when I heard about it.'
The Vogue stopped in Elm Park, Brixton Hill, the Mercedes still close behind. They were outside another Victorian old school building, this with a statue of some old philosopher with an open book on his knee and I young boy beside him, mounted high on one wall. They both got out.
'He always hated that bloody statue, your dad.' said John Jenner. 'Scared the life out of him. He was always scared without me around.'
'You were his best friend,' said Mark Farrow.
'This place looks small too,' said Jenner. 'Dump. Good job it closed years ago.'
'What is it now?'
'Adult education centre,' replied Jenner.
Mark looked up the road, a puzzled look on his face. 'Where's my old school then?' he asked. Tulse Hill Comprehensive, the massive building that once dominated the sky line of that part of south London, was gone.
'Knocked it down years ago. It was rotten with asbestos and everyone round here hated it from day one.'
'Me included,' said Mark.
'Yeah, I know.' said Jenner. 'Come on then, let's go and have something to munch.'
Chapter 3
The Range Rover and escort pulled away from the kerb again, drove down Elm Park, turned right on Brixton Hill and headed towards the centre of Brixton. 'It's called Tootsies,' said Jenner. 'The place we're going.'
'Sounds great,' said Mark.
'Don't take the piss. You'll love it, I promise,' said John Jenner as the car eased its way through the heavy lunchtime traffic, past Brixton prison, which he didn't give a second glance, although he felt the small hairs on the back of his neck rise at the sight of it.
'That fucker's in there, isn't he?' said Mark Farrow as if reading Jenner's mind.
'Yes.'
'Told you I kept in touch. Nice to know he's banged up and we're going out for a meal.'
'If you say so.'
'I say so, Uncle. It's a been a long time, but soon I'll get to meet him one way or another. Then it'll be all over.'
'Are you sure you want that?'
'Sometimes it's been the only thing keeping me going.'
'Fair enough.'
'Fair enough it i
s, but I'm not going to let him spoil you buying me lunch.'
Being stuck in a queue of cars, trucks and buses, Mark Farrow had plenty of time to look around as they inched along. 'You're right, it bloody Well has changed round here,' he said. 'What happened? Where's all the dumpy old shops that looked like they hadn't made a sale in twenty years? The ones with a cat asleep in the window on top of a pile of dead flies?' 'The trendies moved in. Turned the place upside down.'
'I never would've believed it.'
Jenner told Mark to turn the car off the main road towards Clapham, where they took a right and spotted a smart-looking restaurant with a neon sign over the door that read Tootsies in blue and orange script.
There was an empty parking meter a couple of doors up and Mark slid the Vogue on to it. The two men exited the car and Farrow put coins in the meter. The Mercedes pulled up behind it, and, as Mark looked around, John Jenner went and had a word. When he got back, he said: 'They'll be here, and I've told them to feed your meter if it runs out.'
'It's not a problem, the car isn't registered to me.'
'Never thought it was, but they tow them away these days.'
'Bastards.'
'You said it.'
The pair went through the glass door of the restaurant to be met by short black man in a tight, shiny, black single-breasted suit and a snow white button-down shirt open at the neck without a tie. 'Mr Jenner,' greeted them. 'What a pleasant surprise.'
'Got a table for us-, Delroy?' asked John.
'Always for you, sir,' replied the black man. 'Your usual?'
'If it's free.'
'Of course.'
They were led through the warm, spicily scented room to the back, where a table for four was set on a cloth as white as his shirt.
'Delroy, I'd like you to meet Mark Farrow,' said Jenner before they sat.
'A pleasure,' said Delroy, shaking Mark's hand.
'Nice to meetcha,' said Mark.
'He's been away for a while,' said Jenner as Delroy cleared away two of the place settings before taking their coats, gloves and scarves. 'Just showing him the changes round here.'
'A miracle of regeneration,' said Delroy in reply.
'I hardly recognised the old place,' said Mark.
Delroy swiftly offloaded their outer garments to the cloakroom, then took their order for drinks. Gin and tonics for both.
'You all right to drink, Uncle?' asked Mark when the black man was at the tiny bar.
'No. But who cares?'
In a moment Delroy was back at the table. 'Any water, gentlemen?' he asked. 'Not for me,' said Mark. 'Uncle John?'
'Uncle John,' echoed Delroy. 'You two are related?'
'Not really,' explained Mark Farrow. "It's just what I call him. Always have. But we're more family than most families, if you know what I mean, Delroy.' Delroy nodded.
'And no water for me either,' said Jenner. 'I know what fishes do in it.' A joke which Mark had heard a thousand times before, but which still brought a smile to his face. John Jenner never changed much. 'So what's good today, Del?' Jenner asked.
'My mother's pumpkin soup, special today.'
'The pumpkin soup,' echoed Jenner. 'Got to have some of that. Bloody marvellous. Where is Tootsie, by the way?'
'In the kitchen as always, Mr Jenner,' replied Delroy, and as he noticed Mark's puzzled look, he explained. 'Tootsie's my mum, Mr Farrow. The finest Caribbean chef in London bar none.'
'I'll second that, Mark,' said Jenner. 'Is she coming to see me, Del?'
'She'll be out later as usual, Mr Jenner. I'll tell her you're here.'
'Send her in a rum and tonic on me.'
Delroy smiled, showing a mouthful of teeth as white as his shirt. 'No problem. She'll appreciate that.'
'So what else is on the menu?' asked Jenner.
'The usual. Jerk chicken, goat curry. All very good.'
'We'll take some of each,' said Jenner, looking oyer at Mark.
'Fine by me. You order for both of us. Seems like you know the place.'
'Mr Jenner is one of my favourite regulars,' said Delroy. 'And his lovely daughter. How is she today, sir?'
'Just dandy,' replied Jenner. 'And bring us some dirty rice and peas, okra and maybe a little something with chilli. And Delroy, take something
out to the boys in the Mercedes outside if you don't mind. The black one. They'll be hungry I expect. Put it on my bill, of course.'
Delroy smiled. 'All in order, Mr Jenner. Wine for you both?'
'Something white and light and cold if the chilli's hot.'
Delroy smiled again. 'I know just the thing,' he said and left for the kitchen as a beautiful black woman brought their drinks.
'Got this place sussed, Uncle John,' said Mark when she had gone.
'Put a bit of dough in as well,' said Jenner. 'Del was having a rough time with some ragamuffin boys. I sorted it all out.'
'Where are they buried?'
Jenner laughed out loud. 'That's not the way we do it around here, | these days.'
'What then?'
'Just a few words.'
'I can imagine. And, talking of the lovely Martine, what happened; between her and her old man? He wasn't knocking her about, was he?'
'Knocking Martine about? I don't think so. About as much chance of her| taking that as her mum. No. Like I said, he was playing away and he got! captured. She moved out of the house in Guildford and back in with me. He got a bit lairy, but I sent Chas down with her when she cleared her stuff out.'|
'I'd like to have seen that.'
'Me too. Anyway she left him a few memories.'
'Like?'
'She cut up all his flash suits and poured the contents of his wine cellar into the swimming pool.'
.'And he didn't object?'
'No. Chas made sure of that.'
'How old is she now?'
'Still six years younger than you, and looks like a dream.'
'I'm sorry I missed the wedding. How long ago was that again?'
'Five years.'
'So long… Does she still hate me?' 'She never hated you, Mark. She bloody worshipped the ground you Walked on. Trouble was, you always ignored her.'
'She was a bloody nuisance though, Uncle John, wasn't she? Always bloody hanging round putting in her two penn'oth. Always nicking my things and hiding them.' He laughed at the memory. 'Christ, but I had to lock my bedroom door every time I went out.'
'I remember.'
'Is she at home now?'
'No. She got herself a job up west. I told her not to bother, I'd take care of things. But she's independent, just like Hazel was at her age.'
'Hazel,' said Mark raising his glass. 'Here's to her.'
Jenner touched his glass to Mark's and they drank. 'I'm looking forward to being with her soon,' said Jenner.
'Don't say that, Uncle John.'
'It's true.'
'I'm sorry, really sorry. I can hardly take it in.'
'Now don't get maudlin on me, Mark,' said Jenner as a waiter appeared with two steaming bowls of soup and the bread basket, then went off for the wine which Jenner tasted and approved of. The waiter filled their glasses, wished them bon appetit and left them alone. 'Get into this soup. Just the thing for a day like this,' said Jenner, smacking his lips in appreciation as he took a mouthful.
Mark tasted some too and raised his eyebrows. 'Bloody hell,' he said. 'You're right. This is fantastic.'
'Old St Lucian recipe, handed down from mother to daughter. Or son In this case.'
When the edge of their appetites was sated, Mark put down his soup spoon and said. 'OK, Uncle John, we've had the sentimental journey, and you're spoiling me with good food and booze. So tell me, what exactly is going on?'
Jenner blew though his teeth, put down his spoon also and said: 'Well, Mark, it's a long bloody story.'
'I've got no pressing appointments.'
'OK, son, I'll tell you.'
He gathered his thoughts as the waiter reappeared, cleared
away their soup dishes, and poured more wine, before Delroy himself bought out the main courses, covering their table with steaming dishes of delicious-smelling food. 'Enjoy,' he said when everything was set to his satisfaction. 'Your men have food, and Mother will be out to see you when you're finished.'
'Fine, Delroy,' said Jenner. 'We'll look forward to that.'
'Come on, Uncle John,' said Mark Farrow when they were alone again. 'I'm trembling with anticipation.' __
'It's all going to hell, Mark,' said Jenner, tinkering with the food on his plate. 'To hell in a hand basket. You know what I do. How I earn a crust. It used to be easy, but things are changing. Changing fast. I mean, just look around you. No one ever expected this part of the world to end up like this. Half a million pound houses and carrot cake for sale at the local flea pit. But underneath the surface it actually hasn't changed that much. Just take a walk through the council estates. Burnt out flats and cars, syringes in the stairwells. What you see on top is cosmetic. What's really changed is the gap between the rich and the poor. And there's some seriously rich people round here now. Biggest growth industry apart from organic food is security systems. Those rich folk aren't fools. They want to protect what they've got. And at the other end of the scale, the conmen and thieves know there's a lot more to score.'
'Sorry, Uncle, I still don't get your point,' said Mark.
'Listen, son,' said Jenner. 'Society came off the rails in the Eighties. If you can't handle that you're a fool. And I ain't one. I got O levels. Christ knows how. Few enough I'll admit. But in hindsight I know that with a bit of graft I could've got a lot more. Maybe even gone to university. But boys like me didn't go to university in those days. Or precious few. But I read books. I studied politics. That's how I got to be boss. Now I'm dying. There's no oddsing that, and to be honest it's all slipping away. There's all sorts of chancers coming up. All sorts of gangs trying to muscle in on my territory. Portuguese, Chinese, Asians, and blacks. The blacks are the worst with their crack and guns.'
Mark looked round the restaurant and was aware of the irony of John Jenner's last remark but let it go.
'We've been getting soft over the last few years. I need someone to come in and sort things out. Someone who knows what they're doing.'