The Circle Now Is Made (King's Way Book 1)

by Mac Fletcher

  Greg was aware of a lump in his throat as he watched Isaac make off in the direction of Plymouth.

  Probably the last time he’ll be seen in Cornwall again.

  Greg could hardly believe his eyes as he walked towards the lane running down to the bay. A sleek forties saloon had just pulled up, and the driver, wearing sunglasses, was staring at him through the open window.

  "Is that you?" Greg shaded his eyes as he approached. "Where'd you get that old beast from?"

  "This old beast," replied Eddy as Greg neared, "happens to be a forty-nine Riley Pathfinder - my pride and joy."

  "Whatever turns you on. Mind if I ask what you're doing out in the sunshine on such a lovely day?"

  "Just called to say thanks…and good-bye."

  "Why the thanks?" joked Greg.

  "I've just got back from Shropshire. I got that job, and I start retraining in a couple of weeks. You put me on the right track, mate, and I'm grateful."

  "My pleasure," said Greg, "I take it that's the reason for the good-bye as well?"

  "Correct. There's another snippet as well, mind."

  "Go on."

  "Right, well I never said anything at the time, but among the consignment we landed that night were some groceries: big pack of tea and a bag of icing sugar. Odd thing to carry, but then it was all a bit odd. The teabags were all done up in polythene pouches for a start."

  "Am I hearing correctly?" Greg's eyes widened with horror. His pulse-rate soared.

  "Yeah, but it's not half the problem you might imagine. While I was up your way I looked up your old mates… the Slime brothers, remember? Just wanted to pay your ex-wife's debts and get 'em off your back for good."

  "Pay them off…?" Greg could hardly contain his anger.

  "Problem was I got there during the early hours - great big fuck-off house on the Worcester-Shropshire border believe it or not - swimming pool, the works. Didn't like to knock 'em up, so I left the payment in the Beamer on the drive. Hid it in the spare wheel space, mind - didn't want just anybody finding it."

  "Thoughtful," said Greg, suddenly calmer – slightly elated even. "And…?"

  "Would have turned out brilliantly… if some dozy turd hadn't spilled the beans to old Toothache."

  "Prat! Any ideas?"

  "None at all, but it was a daft thing to do: apparently Tooth got a midlands team out at the crack of dawn to smash the doors in and arrest the poor bastards."

  "All for a few groceries," said Greg, Eddy's calm having rubbed off on him at last. "No compassion. Still…I've no doubt their previous good character will go a long way…"

  "Keep in touch," said Eddy as he extended a hand. "We might have another tale to tell next time we meet."

  As Greg walked back along the path to the cabin, he spotted Jamie playing beneath a canopy of bushes, their fresh green buds as yet unable to afford the secrecy he desired from his secret den.

  “Would you like some tea?” asked Jamie.

  “Wow! Yes please!” Greg smiled and took the imaginary cup as he stroked the blonde fuzz on the youngster’s cropped head. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

  Jamie’s wide blue eyes lit up as he returned Greg’s smile.

  “Would you like to live here?”

  “I’m going to,” said Greg gently, “I’ll be back later - I’m just going to see Red and your mum.”

  The tractor had at last moved on, and the final verses of Dance of the Seasons drifted across from the quay. With gin-clear lucidity, gently accompanied by mating gulls, and the muted roar of the Atlantic, he heard:

  Dance again now the sun and the rain,

  Have shown us all their reasons;

  Sing a song for the whole year long,

  Join in the dance of the seasons.

  Hear the skylark, hear the bee,

  hear the Piper at the Gates of Dawn,

  Summer shines on her dancing lines

  and feeds the rolling corn,

  Warm is the breeze from the shoreline seas,

  at play in the greenwood shade

  Sharp as a knife are the ways of life

  …. the circle now is made.

  Greg walked briskly up the hill to the cabin. Jan, who'd just come out to hang washing, smiled when she saw him.

  “Stranger, these days,” she said, emulating Sarah's plummy accent, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “I’ve come to build a barbeque before we open.”

  “Lovely! I'll make tea while you’re doing it.”

  “I've just had tea off Jamie, but we'll need plenty more,” replied Greg with a broad grin. “I’m going to build a shower block as well, and toilets, and lay the patio. . . and build some benches...”

  “Hold on! One thing at a time.”

  Greg walked over to Jan, took her in his arms and kissed her; then be whirled her lithe frame around as though she was a child. She looked so lovely, he thought, as she laughed vigorously in the afternoon sun.

  “I’ll need to move in, of course."

  Jan hugged Greg, and kissed him passionately, hardly able to take in what was happening, and for a moment they danced like children to the distant music.

  “Come on!” Greg took Jan’s wrist and made towards the cabin, pulling her along as he ran. “We’ve got a lot of time to make up for.”

  “Hold on!” shrieked Jan as Red caught up with them and bounded alongside. She was giggling and gasping uncontrollably by now. “There’s something I must tell you.”

  “It can wait.”

  "But..."

  “But nothing... Come on!”

  Greg half skipped through the open French-windows. Through the cafe. Through

  the kitchen… Then stopped dead! “Oh!” His smile faded.

  A man, his back to them, was eating at the table.

  Slowly the man turned and smiled...

  “Jus' come to 'elp out,” said Wyndham.

  THE END