“Me too, Rob. Bleeding arse bandits. Look at them carrying on together,” another of the gang piped up. “What’re we gonna do about it then?” He looked up at Rob and waited for an order.
“Let’s go and speak to him and see if we can offer him some advice.” He stepped into the street and the rest of his gang followed him.
The spurned lover began to weep into the sleeve of his shirt. He leant against a lamppost and sniffled.
“Hey, lover boy, what’s up?” Rob growled, approaching the man.
Startled, the man looked over his shoulder. “Oh, nothing for you chaps to worry about,” he said nervously.
Rob walked right up to him and towered over him, “Now, now, you can talk to me. Was it a lover’s tiff?”
The man gulped and began to back away, “I’m alright. This doesn’t concern you.” He spun around and walked quickly away from the group.
“Oi, come back here. I’m still talking to you,” Rob called after him.
The man’s heart began to beat furiously. He craned his head and looked over his shoulder.
“Get him!” Rob ordered.
The whole gang then charged after him.
The little man started to run too, but he was past his prime and overweight. The pack of wolves behind him got closer and closer, jeering at him and throwing out insults. He ran as fast as he could, but quickly found himself out of breath. The gang closed in on him, but decided to prolong the agony and allowed him a few more metres before they finally pounced.
Rob gripped him by the collar and pulled him back, “Where do you think you’re going, you little fat fudge packer?”
The man began to hyper ventilate, much to the delight of his captors, “I’m ... I’m ... I’m ... ”
Rob laughed, “You’re what? A faggot, a little willy woofter, a downright dirty little bender? Is that what you are? Well, tonight I’m gonna beat that out of you.” He watched the colour drain from his victim’s face and relished every moment. Rob raised his fist slowly, the man’s eyes followed it until the fist stopped moving, then he closed his eyes. Seconds later the fist can thundering back and smashed the man across the side of his face. He crumpled to the pavement and lay at their feet.
“Get up!” Rob ordered. “Get up now or I’ll make this twice as bad for you.”
The man raised himself up onto all fours subserviently, before getting to his feet.
“Good boy,” Rob grinned, obviously enjoying every moment. “Now, take a look around you, who do you want to punch you in the face next? It’s your choice.”
The man turned three hundred and sixty degrees, slowly looking at each of the grinning faces.
“Come on, come on, hurry up and choose. We don’t have all night,” Rob snarled.
The man raised his hand and with a shaky finger pointed at one the smallest of his attackers, “Him.”
Rob coughed, “Manners!”
“Him please,” the man whimpered.
He smiled, “There you go, good manners cost nothing. Go on then Jim, give the man what he wants, since he asked so nicely.”
Jim laughed, “My pleasure,” and with that, he cracked the man on the chin with a powerful upper cut. The victim’s head was flung back and he collapsed to the ground again.
The group cheered and gave him a kick, “Come on, get up. We’re not finished with you yet.”
Tony turned the corner and ran toward the Pink Moon, as he approached he looked up at it from across the street and wondered if his friends were in there. He carried on down the road and noticed a group of blokes encircling someone; he slowed his pace.
“It’s my turn, Rob,” one of the gang shouted, “let me have my go.”
Tony’s ears pricked up at the name, he stopped and slid into a shop doorway trying to conceal himself in the darkness.
“You heard the man, you little fucking fairy, now get to your feet and take your medicine.”
With a reluctant wobble the man got to his feet once again, “Please, no more,” he begged.
They group cackled. “But we’ve only just begun,” Rob said, reaching out and slapping the man’s face firmly. “Go on Al, give him a taste.”
Without any more prompting, Al head butted the man across the bridge of his nose.
His victim fell backwards onto the cold hard floor clutching at his face. He felt the warmth of the blood as it dripped from his nose into his hands.
Tony decided that he couldn’t stand by and watch this and so he stepped forward. “Oi Rob, how’s it going?” He strode confidently across the street towards the gang.
The gang turned to see who was calling them. Rob squinted as Tony approached, “Tony? Is that you, you old bastard?”
Tony nodded, “Of course it fucking is. Who else did you think it was?”
Rob regarded Tony suspiciously. “I can hardly recognise you ... you’re a different shape … and what the fuck have you done to your hair.” He leant forward and studied Tony’s head. “What are they? Highlights?” As he leant closer to Tony he caught the scent of something, “And what’s that poncey smell?” His nostrils flared and his eyes darted rapidly from left to right in total confusion. “Is that fake tan that you’ve got on? You look like a fucking oompa loompa!”
Tony shifted uncomfortably under the microscope. “I’ve smartened myself up a bit. The birds love it, I’ve been up to my nuts in guts recently. I’m beating the bitches back with a shitty stick!”
“Where’ve you been for all these months, we ain’t seen hide nor hair of you.”
Tony realised that he needed to change the subject quickly, he pointed at the man on the floor, “Who is this then?”
Rob peered down at the man lying there and gave him a sharp boot into his abdomen. “Oh, just some faggot. He was having a tiff with his boyfriend, so, we’re trying to take his mind off the end of his love affair.” He laughed and nudged Tony. “You should give him a smack too.”
One of the gang, who was taking the last swig from a bottle of beer, interrupted. “Hey Rob, I’m next. Tony can’t just rock up after all these months and jump the queue.”
“Alright, alright,” Rob said, “keep your fucking hair on. Go on then, smack him over the head with that bottle.”
Tony looked down at the man lying on the floor, their eyes made contact and Tony almost fell over in surprise. “It’s you, isn’t it?”
The magistrate, who had sentenced Tony, looked up at him in absolute despair. “Please help me!” he begged. “Get a charpering omi!”
“There aren’t any around,” Tony said, quickly and quietly.
“What are you two whispering about? Hey! Do you know this woofter, Tony?” Rob growled.
“What do you think?”
Rob shrugged, “Yeah, well, it sounded like you knew each other.”
“I’ve never seen him before in my life. Anyway, I think that this poor bastard has had enough for one night, don’t you? Come on, let’s go to the bungery,” he said, trying to lead Rob away.
Rob stopped and looked at Tony. “You what? A bungery?”
Tony kicked himself, “I meant pub, come on, let’s go to the pub.”
Rob shrugged him off, “There’s plenty of time for that. I’m not going anywhere until we knock this fucker unconscious.”
“Nah, leave it,” Tony said, “I’m gagging for a pint.”
“Hey, you don’t tell me what to do anymore, Tony. You can’t just swan up here and order me about,” Rob said angrily. “Like I said, we’re not going anywhere whilst this bent bastard is still conscious.” He pointed at the gang member holding the bottle, “Do your worst.”
Tony watched as the bottle was raised ready to be brought down on the man’s head. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath before making up his mind. Suddenly, Tony threw his fist forward with all his might, directly into the attackers face. His attacker’s nose appeared to explode and he dropped the bottle.
The rest of the group took a couple of steps back, totally u
nsure of what just happened.
Tony bent down and grabbed the magistrate. “You’d better run. Go on, get out of here go!” he screamed at him before turning and landing a blow onto Rob’s right eye.
Rob stumbled back, but then balanced himself. “So, Tony, I knew there was something different about you. He cracked his knuckles and curled his lip. “Turning on your own is a serious offence where I’m from.” He took a few steps toward him.
Tony puffed up his chest, “Come and have a go, if you think you’re hard enough.”
Rob thumped his right fist into the palm of his left hand, “Oh, I’m hard enough.” He gritted his teeth and without any more small talk, he bellowed, “Get him!”
Fists rained down from all sides onto Tony’s head. He bounced this way and that, fighting to stay upright. He swung a punch and caught one of the gang in the face, but he couldn’t see what the result was.
Then he felt a sharp pain as one of the gang kicked him in the back of his knees. He fell forward and grabbed at them, trying to stop himself from falling. He knew if he fell then it was game over for him. The next thing he knew was the feeling of concrete under his knees, he lifted his leg instantly and tried to push himself back up to his feet, but another kick to his back sent him facedown onto the cold, hard pavement. His head began to spin as they kicked and stamped on him, he tried in vain to lift himself up, but there were just too many of them. He could feel the dizziness overtaking him and as Rob’s foot came crashing down on the back of his head. Finally, his eyes closed and he slipped out of consciousness.
Chapter Twenty Seven
Uwe walked down the long corridor, his shoes squeaked on the disinfected floor with every purposeful stride. He stopped at the vending machine, inserted the correct change and thumped a large lit button with the side of his hand. The machine whirred into life; he waited for the clang of the plastic bottle to drop down and then removed his water from the compartment. He opened his man bag and nestled the bottle next to the newspapers before continuing his journey. Uwe made his way to the ward entrance and pressed the buzzer. He tapped his foot impatiently while he waited for a response, finally a crackled voice spoke.
“Yes, hello,” it said wearily.
“I’m here to see Tony Horwood.”
“Are you immediate family?”
“Yes.”
“What’s your relationship to the patient?” the voice inquired.
“I’m his fiancé,”
The voice sighed, “Really? You’re the fifth fiancé to visit him in the past twenty four hours.”
“Are you suggesting that I am a liar?” Uwe replied coldly.
“No, I’m just stating that the patient has a lot of fiancés.”
Uwe thought for a moment, then spoke, “Yes, that would be right. We’re Mormons.”
“You’re Mormons!” the tinny voice repeated. “Gay Mormons? Are you serious?”
Uwe leant toward the intercom and spoke slowly, “Did I detect a hint of homophobia in that response?”
There was a pregnant pause while Uwe waited for an answer.
“Well?” Uwe drawled.
“No Sir, please come in.”
The buzzer sounded and Uwe smiled to himself. He pulled the door open and stepped into ward. He made his way to the end of the room and pushed open the door to a small, private side room.
“Guten Morgen, Gareth. Has he woken up yet?”
Gareth got up from his chair. “He’s showing signs of coming to. The doctors said the general anaesthetic should wear off soon. I’m going to head off home now, but will you call me when he wakes?”
Uwe nodded, “No problem. I’ll speak to you later, hau rein!” He walked across and sat down next to Tony’s bed. He looked over at Tony who was snoring loudly, he tutted and took a book, The Roads to Sata, from his bag. Uwe nestled into his chair and opened the book, he smiled to himself and began to read. After a few lines he began to frown, as he tried to concentrate on the words amidst Tony’s snores. After reading the same paragraph four times he slammed the book shut and glared at Tony. He surreptitiously looked over at the door to make sure no one was looking; once satisfied, he then reached over and gently pushed Tony’s mouth shut and pinched his swollen nose with his thumb and forefinger. After a few seconds Tony’s mouth and eyes opened quickly and he gasped for air, Uwe quickly sat back in his chair again and pretended to read his book.
“Where am I? Am I in heaven?” Tony said groggily.
“You’re alone in a room with a bed and have me for company,” Uwe said nonchalantly, “it’s the closest to heaven that you’ll ever get.” He chuckled to himself. “So, this is the glorious NHS, is it?”
“Uwe? Is that you?” Tony slurred, he tried to rub his eyes. “What the fuck? Why can’t I move my arms?” He looked down at himself and gasped.
“Both of your arms are broken. They’ve been put into a cast.” Uwe explained.
“What happened?” Tony said, trying to come to terms with his predicament.
Uwe frowned again, “Don’t you remember? You got the shit well and truly kicked out of you.”
“So, where am I?”
“Where do you think you are? You’re in hospital, you idiot.” Uwe tutted and shook his head. “I see they didn’t knock any sense into you.”
“What’s the damage?” Tony said, attempting to look down. He winced in pain as he tried to lean forward.
“It’s not too bad, you’ve got two broken arms, a couple of broken ribs, your nose is pretty swollen but not broken. You’ve got a lot of stitches in your ear from where they glassed you and your back is black and blue with bruises,” Uwe said, listing the injuries. “Oh, and they’ve had to hook up a catheter to your little schwanz,” he pointed at the drainage bag by the side of the bed filled with dark, yellow liquid.
Tony tried to peer over the side of the bed, but every time he moved, the breath was taken out of him. “How long have I been out?”
Uwe thought about this. “You were unconscious when they brought you into the hospital. They checked you over for brain damage and you appear to have been very lucky. Then once you came to, they took you to theatre again and patched you up. So, I guess you’ve been out of it for two days now.”
“Huh,” Tony said, trying to make sense of this. “Have they removed my electronic tag?”
Uwe leant over and lifted up the bed sheet to check. “Unfortunately not,” he said simply.
“Ah shit, so everyone in here knows I’m a criminal then.”
“Apparently so, hence the private room. But forget about that, there is something else that you need to know about.”
“Oh, what else?”
Uwe opened up his man bag and took out the newspapers. He unfolded them carefully and began to read. “It seems that the British press has had a field day with this. You’re on the front page of every paper.”
“What?”
Uwe smirked, “Shhhh. Let me show you.” His eyes lit up as he held up the first newspaper, he read out the headline dramatically, “Homo Protectus.” He took a moment to repress a giggle. “Ex-thug, turned homosexual saves magistrate from gay bashing.” He stopped to take in Tony’s look of horror. Satisfied that he had the reaction he’d expected, he then continued, “Recently converted homosexual, Tony Horwood, single-handedly took on a gang of thugs to protect fellow homosexual and county court magistrate from a vicious homophobic assault. In an amazing twist, the man he saved had previously sentenced Mr Horwood to an academic year at the controversial school for Future Queens of England. It is believed that during this time Mr Horwood had given in to his latent homosexual desires and come out of the closet.” Uwe lowered the paper for a moment, “Should I go on?”
“They think I’m gay?”
Uwe nodded, “So, it would appear.”
“Shit!” Tony said slowly.
Uwe put the paper down, picked up the next one and read out the headline, “Bender Defender,” he said, emphasising each syllable. “That one has a
nice ring to it.”
Tony began to stutter, “I can’t believe this.” He stared at the headline and repeated the headlines, “Homo Protectus and Bender Defender.”
Uwe picked up the paper, “I’ve got one more paper here. King of Queens,” he read relishing every letter.
“Fuck me.”
“Oh, so it is true,” Uwe said, “well, sorry to disappoint you, but you’re not my type,” he teased.
“This is like a bad dream.”
Uwe put the newspapers back into his bag carefully. “I don’t see why. You’re a hero!”
“But they said that I am gay. Everyone will think I am gay.”
Uwe laughed. “Anyone that knows you, will know that you’re not gay. What are you worrying about? Anyway, didn’t you pretend to be gay to trick women into sleeping with you?
Tony nodded, “Technically yes, but … ”
“Well then, I guess this is karma.” He patted Tony’s leg. “You shouldn’t focus on that, you should just think about the positive. You risked a lot to save the guy who sentenced you to gay school, you could have been killed by those animals.” They both sat in silence for a moment as they contemplated this. “That speaks volumes about you, Tony. Compassion is the basis of morality and you showed the world what you’re made of.”
There was a gentle knock at the door, “Can I come in?” a soft voice spoke.
“Louise?” Tony said with a quiver.
The door pushed open, “Hi Tony,” she said as she stood there in the doorway.
The nurse pushed past her to enter the room, “Aha, you’re awake, Mr Horwood. I have another of your fiancées here to visit.” She tutted and trundled a machine on castors over to Tony’s bedside. The nurse took out her thermometer and shoved it roughly into Tony’s ear. “I’m just going to lift the immediate family restrictions. I’ve been single for three years and you have more fiancés and fiancées than I’ve had hot dinners, if another of your so called lovers visits then it’ll send me into a spiral of depression.”
He rolled his eyes at the nurse, then winked at Louise who hung in the doorway awkwardly. “This isn’t the reunion that I had in mind,” he said to her with a half-smile.
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