Counting Sunsets

by Paul Gait

  His anxiety worsened when he saw in his wing mirror that the group had stopped their antics and started to follow the car. Standing up on their pedals, they made a comical sight. With no gears they were pedalling extremely fast. The cadence of their legs would not have looked out of place in a silent keystone Kops movie.

  The hoodies were shadowing the car.

  ‘Have you seen those yobs Andy?’ Geoffery said hoarsely.

  ‘Yes, they’re nothing to worry about,’ replied Andy calmly.

  ‘I hope you’re right.’

  But the car slowing down was not what Geoffery was expecting.

  ‘Right, here we are, won’t be a moment,’ Andy said, parking the Mercedes outside one of the council houses.

  ‘Do you want me to sit in the back?’ Geoffery asked, hoping to keep Andy’s company for a little longer.

  ‘No Geoffery, you’re better there. Don’t want the little one knocking your pain pump if you’re sitting in the back. Are you still OK?’

  ‘Yes fine, thanks,’ Geoffery lied, not mentioning his anxiety about the group of hoodies.

  ‘Right I’ll be back in a minute,’ Andy said, getting out of the car. ‘Helen should be ready.’

  ‘Don’t worry about me; you sort your family out’. Geoffery reassured him hoping he wouldn’t be long.

  As Andy disappeared into the house Geoffery studied the area. It was not dissimilar to his own childhood home.

  The former council houses, built in the 1950s, lay in regimented uniformity with privet hedges bordering the tarmac pavement.

  Post war building priorities were only focused on quick construction; architectural merit was not one of the parameters used in developing the early fifties housing stock.

  Several in the row of semidetached properties showed signs of DIY, probably part of a tenant purchase scheme, he mused.

  Other shabby properties interspersed with the neat ones showed the mix of people on the estate. Perhaps his initial judgment was wrong. Perhaps they weren’t all lethargic spongers.

  Andy’s house was one of the shabby ones, much in need of a bit of TLC; clearly he wasn’t much into house and garden maintenance. Whereas his adjoining neighbour was obviously quite meticulous, his privet hedge showed elements of topiary as it arched over his carefully painted black metal garden gate.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Geoffery’s heart sank as he spotted the Gang of hoodies coming around the corner and cycling up towards the car.

  His hand immediately flew to engage the central locking which gave a reassuring clunk as all doors locked in turn.

  The group had stopped several yards away from the car and seemed to be planning something. After a brief discussion one of their number detached himself from the others and came towards the car and started circling it on his bike.

  The yob stared menacingly down through the tunnel of his hood like some modern day grim reaper, his features hidden.

  Geoffery wondered when a brick would materialise and come through the window. He realised he was sweating; his mouth dry.

  In his younger, healthier days he would have been out the car and seeing off the ‘little shit’. He would have been able to cope with any agro that could have developed. But now, with only the energy of a baby, he felt vulnerable, threatened.

  Geoffery was unsure what to do. Should he sound the horn to warn the nurse that the Hoodie Gang was outside?

  If he sounded the horn it would attract their attention to him.

  His mind struggled to resolve the dilemma; the morphine was clogging his thought processing.

  As he was trying to think of a strategy, the one who had been cycling around the car dropped his bike and went to Andy’s house. He pushed open the small metal gate sending it crashing against the moth eaten privet hedge and slouched his way down the concrete slab path. He leant on the bell push screwed to the paint chipped door frame.

  The others stood smirking by the gate.

  If only Geoffery had the telephone number of the house, he could warn Andy not to open the door. Through the fog in his mind he remembered that Andy had given him his mobile number. Why hadn’t he thought about it earlier? ‘Stupid man’ he chided himself.

  The youth at the door took his finger off the bell push and thrust his hand deep into his pocket. Something shiny appeared. Was it a flick knife?

  Geoffery’s trembling hands dug into his own pocket and pulled out his mobile, quickly flicking the Motorola open.

  ‘Contacts…contacts’ he instructed himself. ‘Where’s the number?’

  Too late! As he highlighted Andy’s number the door opened and the Nurse stood on the threshold and gazed down at the face of the Hoodie.

  The young man raised his arm towards the Nurse’s face.

  ‘Oh my no,’ thought Geoffery, he’s going to slash his face.

  Andy raised his arm in response, apparently trying to block the blow, their hands touched and parted.

  The Hoodie’s arm went forward again into Andy’s midriff this time in a thrusting motion which stopped suddenly as if it had struck something solid.

  Geoffery decided to call the Police.

  As he glanced at the two on the doorstep, he expected to see the Nurse collapsing, screaming, and falling into a pool of blood. Today of all days this should not be happening. It was going to be a celebration of a new life. The child would never know her kind father.

  The Nurse bowed forward and stepped down from the doorstep, obviously hurt.

  Geoffery punched in the first nine, but couldn’t bear to take his eyes off the events unfolding on the doorstep.

  The Nurse grabbed hold of the youths shoulder for support as he appeared to fall forward.

  Geoffery keyed in the second nine.

  The two were now in a full embrace.

  ‘What was going on?’ Geoffery wondered. ‘Was he just thrusting the knife deeper, twisting it to cause maximum internal damage?’

  The Nurse appeared to be smiling. Was this the final grimace before death?

  The police, Geoffery reminded himself. The last nine and the green phone symbol, don’t forget the green phone.

  Geoffery glanced up again. Now Andy had let go of the youth and was standing and appeared to be laughing. Was this how stabbed people died?

  Perhaps he should take a photograph of the Gang and the perpetrator so the police could trace them. Why hadn’t he thought of that before? ‘Stupid, stupid, old fool,’ he berated himself.

  His thumb came off hovering over the green phone and back onto the options button, quickly scrolling through to find the picture option.

  ‘Quickly’ he urged himself. The Hoodies will soon be leaving now they had done their terrible deed. Perhaps they would turn their attention to him as he had witnessed it all.

  His panicking hands struggled with the buttons. He forced himself not to look up until he found the capture option.

  In his peripheral vision he was aware of movement coming towards him; still he worked on the phone.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ‘Got it,’ he said to himself, finding the option. As he brought the phone up to take the photograph, the face of the youth from the doorstep was just yards away and heading directly towards him.

  Geoffery pressed the button and heard the reassuring sound of the photograph being taken.

  As he pressed the button again to capture another image, Geoffery was taken by surprise. For instead of the rest of the Gang heading in his direction it was the smiling face of the Nurse. But the youth had his hand behind Andy’s back, was he there at knife point?

  Geoffery’s confusion about what he had thought he had witnessed had caused his heart to race, blood coursing through his ears. He could see Andy speaking; perhaps he was going to persuade Geoffery to unlock the car, so it would be undamaged, pristine for its new owner.

  Geoffery sought the option to dial again. Nine, nine… but something was wrong with what he was seeing.

  The nurse was saying something and g
esticulating. He was still smiling.

  ‘Mr Foster, Mr Foster,’ he was saying.

  There was no blood on the Nurse’s white shirt. Down the tunnel of his hooded top, the youth too was smiling. Was this a trick?

  ‘I’d like to introduce you to…

  ‘Introduce! Introduce? Victims don’t introduce people who have just stabbed them.’ Geoffery’s mind struggled to understand the situation. Nevertheless he lowered the window a fraction.

  ‘It’s OK, he won’t bite. This is my friend Ben. He and his mates thought I’d won the lottery when they saw me driving your car,’ Andy advised.

  ‘Ben! Ben!’ Geoffery struggled to remember. ‘Ben, yes the nurse had told him of this Ben while he was helping him dress the other day. Something about….’

  ‘He’s one of my Scouts. Do you mind if he sits in your car for a second?’

  Scouts, of course! So he hadn’t been witness to a vicious attack after all. ‘I thought he was attacking you,’ admitted Geoffery.

  ‘Attacking me?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Nothing sinister, just a high five and a special Scout handshake, that’s all.’

  Now it was obvious. He had let his imagination run away with him. His negative thoughts against all young people and Hoodies made an innocent greeting into a murderous attack. He felt foolish at the realisation of it.

  Geoffery flicked the central locking off as Ben stretched for the door handle. ‘Step in young man. Please sit here in the driving seat.’

  Ben wasted no time and slid into the luxurious Black Passion leather seat.

  ‘Wow, this is some car.’

  ‘Now don’t get touching anything,’ the Nurse instructed.

  Almost instantaneously Geoffery heard the sound of BMX bikes dropping onto the pavement as the rest of the Gang ran towards the car.

  ‘Can we sit in the back Mister?’ asked one spotty faced youth standing by the passenger door.

  ‘Is that OK Geoffery?’ asked the Nurse.

  ‘Yes that’s fine, be my guest,’ a relieved Geoffery replied.

  ‘I ain’t going to sit in there,’ another one of the Gang said,’ I don’t want to catch it.’

  ‘Don’t be daft, cancer isn’t catching is it Mr Foster?’ Ben said, admonishing the speaker.

  Clearly, Andy had told Ben and the others about Geoffery’s condition.

  ‘Ugh, has he got cancer? I ain’t going in there either,’ muttered another. ‘You never know.’

  Geoffery was taken aback by the indelicate comments of Ben’s mates. His emotions were all over the place; frightened at coming on to the estate, terrified at what he thought was a murder, relieved when he realised he had misread the situation and now being slapped in the face with some kid’s ignorant view of his condition. He didn’t need reminding of his mortality.

  Ignorance breeds bias, he reflected, not missing the irony of his own misjudgment of young people and Hoodies.

  ‘Don’t mind him Mr Foster,’ the youth by his side reassured him. ‘He’s a bit of a pillock, don’t know nothing’.

  ‘He doesn’t know anything,’ Geoffery unconsciously corrected.

  ‘That’s right,’ Ben riposted, ‘thick as shit’.

  The Nurse cleared his throat loudly in admonishment.

  ‘Sorry, meant to say thick as S, H, one T,’ Ben continued, almost in the same breath. ‘My Gran died of cancer last year and I ain’t caught it. This is a nice motor. Merc CL63 Coupe; Seven speed box; 525 Brake Horse; 0 to 62 in 4.6 seconds.’

  ‘You seem to know a lot about Cars.’

  ‘Yeah we have car maintenance courses down at the hut and well everybody round here is always doing up cars.’

  ‘Come on then Ben, I’ve got a christening to go to. Say thanks to Mr Foster,’ said Andy.

  ‘Thanks mate. I’ll have one like that one day,’ Ben said, quickly sliding out of the car as requested.

  ‘I bet you will,’ Geoffery thought, ‘but will you be the owner?’ He quickly chided himself for his bias. ‘OK’ he said. ‘It’s nice to meet you.’

  As the group around the car dispersed, Geoffery could hear Ben vilifying the spotty youth and as a result there was some pushing and shoving. He just hoped they weren’t going to get into a fight, his nerves were already at breaking point.

  Andy’s wife came towards the car, ‘Andy we’re already running late, I thought for one moment you were going to hold a Scout meeting out here.’

  ‘Helen, this is Mr Foster, Geoffery, this is my wife Helen.’

  Helen put her hand through the open window almost curtseying as she did so.

  ‘Oh I’m sorry Mr Foster, didn’t mean to expose you to a ‘domestic’,’ she said apologetically. ‘Pleased to meet you.’

  ‘Likewise, I’m sure,’ said Geoffery, noting the frilly white blouse terminated by chubby hands and a crude red nail varnish job. A single plain gold ring on her wedding finger, the only adornment. So different from the Dior bedecked, jewel laden ladies of his former life.

  ‘Come around this side love,’ the Nurse instructed. ‘It’s only got two doors and I don’t want Geoffery leaping in and out of his own car.’

  ‘That would be the day. I’m afraid my leaping days are over, but there’s still life in the old dog yet,’ Geoffery added.

  Ben’s wife was preceded into the car by a pretty four year old girl in a full length floral party dress and shiny black patent leather shoes, a big white bow crowning a head of long blond hair that cascaded over her shoulders.

  As she climbed in, she stopped and proffered her little hand, ‘Hello Mr Foster. Thank you for lending us your car. It’s my little sisters Christen-ning today and it’s very important for baby Jesus to see my sister. Her name is Molly. Do you like my dress Mr Foster? It’s my special party dress.’ She said without pausing for breath.

  ‘Come on darling, you’ll have plenty of time to talk to Mr Foster later on, now move over and let Mummy get in with Molly,’ she said patiently to the little one.

  ‘Andy, hold Molly while I get in. Oh and we’ll need the baby seat for Amy. Thanks for loaning us your car Mr Foster.’

  ‘Please, it’s my pleasure. It’s the least I can do for you on such an important day like today. Besides your husband is a lovely man and does much more for all of us than he needs to. I’m just pleased to be able to help and get away from the hospice to see the outside world again for a few hours.’

  ‘Here you are love.’ Andy passed the child’s seat to his wife and climbed in. ‘And the fresh air will do you good too, Geoffery. Right everybody got their belts on? OK we’re off then.’

  Ben and the gang were still on the pavement as Andy pressed the starter button and the car purred into life.

  ‘Give them something to cheer at,’ Geoffery instructed, ‘leave them with a squeal of tyres.’

  ‘Are you sure? They’re your tyres.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that, I doubt I shall be buying anymore tyres anyway.’

  ‘Positive thinking Geoffery, come on,’ chided Andy.

  Andy duly floored the accelerator and shot off down the road to the obvious delight of the Hoodies leaving a line of rubber behind him.

  ‘Andy, don’t forget you’ve got a precious cargo on board,’ Helen reminded him concerned. ‘And you’ve already got three points on your licence.’

  Andy slowed down as instructed.

  Geoffery was less on edge as they drove back through the estate, feeling slightly foolish at his earlier concerns.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Geoffery was now feeling a bit more relaxed having met some Hoodies, ‘face to hood’ so to speak.

  ‘Those kids!’ Geoffery said, relieved.

  ‘Not what you expected?’ quizzed the Nurse as he steered the coupe out of the area.

  ‘Not exactly, no,’ Geoffery replied. ‘To be honest, I wasn’t sure what to expect’.

  ‘They’re not at all the demonic characters that the newspapers like to make them out to be. That’s n
ot to say they don’t have a few antisocial habits. But when you understand the family environment that some grow up in, you can understand why a few have rough edges.’

  ‘That Ben seems to have his head screwed on the right way.’

  ‘He’s tough too, but then he needs to be.’

  ‘Come from a single parent family?’

  ‘Yes. He lives with his Mother. But don’t get me wrong. Not all single Mum’s are bad, but her passion for drink, drugs and men has made Ben’s life hell.’

  ‘Poor Sod!’ Geoffery said, suddenly feeling sorry for a kid he’d only just met.

  ‘During one of my days off, I got a call from the school. They know I run the local Scout Troop. Ben had been sent to the Headmaster’s office for fighting and being insolent to his teacher. Apparently he was in a right state. They were going to send for the police at one stage and exclusion would have been automatic.’

  ‘But they rang you, why not his Mother?’ Geoffery asked puzzled.

  ‘The school is aware of his Mother’s problems and knew that I had spent a lot of time trying to sort Ben out when he first joined the Scouts.’

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I went to the school and had a private session with Ben. I mainly listened to him off load. But it took sometime before I got to the bottom of it. Apparently on this particular occasion his Mother had come home in the early hours out of her mind on drugs or drink with a new boyfriend. The new boyfriend ripped his trousers on Ben’s bike, which Ben kept in the hallway. Boyfriend got mad and kicked Ben out of his own house at three o’clock in the morning.’

  ‘That must have been terrifying,’ Geoffery said, imagining the fear Ben must have experienced. ‘So Ben was wandering the streets at three o’clock in the morning, He must have been scared witless. The man wants shooting. Where was his mother in all this?’ Geoffery asked.

  ‘Probably didn’t even know anything about it. Ben normally gets himself to school in the mornings anyway,’ interjected Helen.