by S M Mala
‘I don’t like what you’re saying,’ he replied, feeling petrified and trying not to show it.
‘What I’m saying,’ the man replied, clearing his throat. ‘Is that you have to go to the classes she attends to try and form a friendship. Get information about her life. You seem a sociable man. We’ve been watching you for a few weeks and you certainly don’t seem to be shy when it comes to being friendly with the opposite sex,’ he smiled. ‘And the target is certainly in need of a friend.’
Kit stared ahead of him, shaking his head in dismay.
‘So all I have to do is take two tap lessons a week and strike up a friendship with this woman? What’s in it for me?’
‘Financial security once the job is done. It also means that you and the people who assist to keep her safe for a short period of time will-.’
‘I’m not holding her hostage!’ he bellowed, louder than he realised, seeing the man jump. ‘I don’t know how I can help. You’ve picked the wrong guy. I run a bar. I’m not some small time gangster. I’m a bloody landlord!’
‘Mr Foley please don’t be alarmed,’ the man replied with a wry smile. ‘I do understand your concern but if we had any other way, we would have taken it. We want the target to be kept safe so no harm will come to her.’
Kit thought he might be dreaming this and shook his head.
He wasn’t.
‘Knowing that you’re not a small time or even a modicum of a crook, so to speak, we will arrange everything for you. We have handpicked two exceptional men to assist you on this project. Much of the leg work has been done. This should not interfere with your day to day life. My client realises you have obligations of your own.’ Wilton cleared his throat for a moment. ‘But to make sure that your brother isn’t implicated, we don’t want you to just attend the classes. We would require you to teach them.’
‘You’ve got to be bloody joking!’ shouted out Kit, startling himself with his own laugh. ‘I’ve not tap danced since I was a teenager and I wasn’t even that good.’
‘But your brother is an accomplished performer.’
‘And so is my mum but it missed my DNA. Listen Mr Wilton, you really are mistaken about me. I can’t do this. I’ve never kidnapped anyone-.’
‘You won’t be kidnapping, more minding.’
‘Like I said, I don’t do this sort of thing and, frankly, it seems pretty odd.’
‘Unfortunately, it is a rather sad and difficult situation for us all,’ he said gravely. ‘We are worried about the target because we think she might be a sitting one.’
‘Come again?’
‘Oh yes,’ Wilton said with a wry smile. ‘That’s the other reason we realised you were perfect. The client is aware that you’re having some difficulties in that area, so is happy in the knowledge that the person being held will be in safe hands.’
‘What do you mean?’ Kit replied, feeling his face burn in shame.
‘You sought medical assistance for erectile dysfunction problems, which are very common in ex addicts.’
If Kit was naked, you would be able to see he was red from his head to his toes, including his other head which wasn’t rising to any occasion.
‘I don’t know you and I certainly don’t want to discuss this,’ he said defensively, looking at the black window and seeing his own disgruntled expression. ‘My brother would never let me take a tap dance lesson in a million years and then how would I justify it? You need to be trained and-.’
‘One of my associates will come and see you in the next few days,’ smiled Wilton. ‘I went through the same thing, not being able to get an erection. I found it was the love of a good man that helped me get through it.’
Kit did a double take and sat still for a moment.
‘Don’t worry Mr Foley, I’m not making a pass,’ Wilton laughed. ‘But things repair themselves in time.’
‘Doubt it.’
‘Oh, I certainly guarantee it!’
‘I’m Captain Gareth Smith,’
… Kit heard.
A large hand came towards his face when he stood up from behind the bar.
‘How’d you get in?’ he asked, surprised.
It was just after ten on Tuesday morning and he knew all the doors were locked.
The man was standing up straight, shoulders back, his arm still extended.
‘You must be Kit Foley. Mr Wilton sent me to meet you.’
The grimace on Kit’s face couldn’t be hidden. His meeting with Peter and Mr Wilton took place on Thursday. All over the weekend he wondered if it was a wind up. Only to find the big man standing in front of him was a horrible reminder it was all true. His shaved head and strong physical features only reinforced it.
‘I see,’ he said, looking at the large masculine palm with neatly manicured nails and shook it quickly. ‘I was hoping this was some sort of mistake.’
‘It’s no mistake. We have a mission to accomplish and that’s what we must do, given the time lines and restrictions. I’m here to talk you through it,’ he said, still standing straight. ‘People call me ‘Captain’ as I’m ex-military.’
‘I’m just called ‘Kit’.’
‘As we’ll be working closely, I think we should get to know each other and I can then debrief you on what we need to do.’
At that moment, Kit wanted to laugh. It seemed so surreal but the man was dead serious and, from the size of him, Kit didn’t want any trouble.
‘My colleague, Ryan, will be turning up soon. Is there somewhere we can speak in private?’
‘Sure,’ sighed Kit, knowing Sean and the others would be turning up for the lunchtime session. ‘Let’s go to my flat upstairs.’
He led him round the back and up the stairs to the two bedroom apartment on top of the building. It was soulless and brimming with Ikea furniture.
‘Have you just moved in?’ Captain asked, glancing around. ‘I thought you’d been here for quite a long time?’
‘A while but I never got round to sorting it out,’ he shrugged, not wanting to admit he couldn’t be bothered making it into a home. ‘Anyway, it’ll do.’
‘It has potential,’ Captain replied and glanced around, pointing to the sofa. ‘Can I sit here?’
‘Help yourself.’ Standing in his living room, he examined the large masculine man. ‘Do you want a tea or coffee?’
‘Tea, white with one sugar,’ he smiled back before returning to examine the inside of the flat.
When Kit returned, he sat down opposite Captain.
‘I was told by Mr Wilton that you weren’t happy about any of this. I do understand.’
‘I don’t think you do.’
‘It’s not our usual type of job. You see, my colleague and I are employed mainly for security projects.’
‘So it’s only me that’s being emotionally blackmailed, is it?’ he asked, getting agitated. Captain laughed and shook his head from side to side. ‘Are you getting off on this type of action?’
‘I’m assisting to gain some financial security and, with my skills, it will be helpful. I can see you’re not very keen.’
‘I don’t want to do it but I haven’t got much choice. They’re threatening to hurt my child and ex-wife, or they know people that can,’ he replied, trying to hide his snarl. ‘This seems like a game to you.’
‘It’s not a game. It’s a job.’
‘Are you involved in that sort of gang?’
‘The only gang I ever was a part of was when I was at school, nothing more than that.’
‘And the army.’
‘Navy. Ex-marine.’
Kit was trying hard to dislike this man, sitting on his sofa, drinking from his daughter’s ‘Wallace and Gromit’ mug but found he couldn’t. His large hand made the vessel look like it was from a kid’s tea set. There was a gentleness to his face which looked displaced against the rest of his masculine body.
‘Ryan will be here in a moment. He too is an ex-marine and I’ve enrolled his help.’
‘I’ve
got no military training so I’m a rookie.’
‘All you need to do is to be able to tap dance and get to know her better.’
‘What’s her name, this sitting target?’
‘Ah!’ Captain put the mug on the table and took a deep breath. ‘Let’s wait for Ryan to arrive and then I can de-brief you both.’
‘Ryan Madden,’
… he said, holding out his hand. ‘You must be Kit Foley?’
Kit stepped back a little. This guy was taller than Captain but quite slender. He didn’t look ex-marine.
‘Yeah, sure. Come in,’ replied Kit, letting him walk past and up the stairs to his home.
He followed him slowly and saw Captain and Ryan embrace warmly.
‘Great to see you!’ said Ryan, tapping Captain’s back. ‘How’s it all going?’
‘It’s getting there.’
‘And Gillian?’
‘Slowly but surely,’ Captain replied, stepping back and looking Ryan up and down. ‘How are things with you?’
‘Granddad is still hanging on. I had to put him into a nursing home but I visit most days. It’s been tough,’ sighed Ryan, taking off his jacket and revealing a very sinewy and taut body.
He was a very good looking guy. Dark brown skin, a sculptured face and a bright smile. Then the pair glanced over at Kit before looking at each other.
‘It seems Kit’s going to be our link to the target,’ said Captain, clearing his throat.
‘Has he been briefed?’
‘I’m about to do that now.’
Kit sat back down opposite the men and studied them closely. Both seemed amused when looking at him.
‘Why are you scowling?’ asked Ryan, shaking his head. ‘We’re not assassins, you know. This is a job we have to do.’
‘I’m being forced,’ Kit sharply replied.
‘Your brother owns the dance school and what a perfect way to infiltrate,’ said Captain, finishing off his tea. ‘You make a lousy cuppa.’
‘Listen Kit, you don’t know us and we don’t know you. It seems like a weird situation but all we need to do is follow the plan. Take the target and then keep her away from prying eyes for at least two weeks. We return her and all is done,’ said Ryan, sat on the edge of the sofa, his long slender fingers clasped together. ‘I’ll let Captain explain.’
‘The target, a woman in her thirties, is hard to get to. Someone in her close circle doesn’t want people to get near. He’s a control freak. She’s been living like this for four years but now they need to find out what’s going on. They’re worried about her.’
‘Is she in danger?’ asked Kit, not believing what he was hearing.
‘It’s her mind and physical health someone is worried about. It seems she’s trapped in this friendship,’ Captain gently replied. ‘The person in question who is holding her captive, so to speak, is a live wire. And problematic. He has connections to people in the syndicate.’
‘What syndicate?’
‘Don’t be naïve,’ smiled Ryan, shaking his head. ‘Mr Wilton is a lawyer for someone very important hence his involvement. If this man does anything to upset this woman, there will be repercussions. By taking her away, they want to force his hand and see if he will let her go willingly, without any trouble.’
‘Sounds a little strange,’ replied Kit, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. ‘And I think you two are talking in riddles.’
‘All you have to do, right now, is convince your brother to let you take two classes a week. Wednesday and Friday at 11.00am for one hour, that’s all. Then leave the rest to us,’ replied Captain, glancing at Ryan.
He couldn’t quite believe what was being said then suddenly a surge came across his throat and he couldn’t hold back.
‘You think it’s that simple!’ laughed out Kit. ‘Have you met my brother?’
‘You must be having some hell of a breakdown!’
… laughed out Justin, holding his four year old son, Mylo, in his arms. They were in his brother’s living room. Kit strategically placed himself at the dining table to avoid eye contact. ‘You?’
‘Daddy, can I go?’ the little boy asked.
‘Yes buddy,’ he said, letting him run off towards his mother.
‘I need some focus in my life,’ he said and noticed his sister in law, Aloyna, trying not to smile as she hugged her son. ‘What’s wrong with that? I don’t even want any money for it.’
‘I’ve seen you tap. I wouldn’t even pay you for the pleasure. Am I going mad or did you just say what you did?’
‘Justin, don’t be unfair,’ Aloyna replied in her faint Russian accent guiding Mylo to the sofa. ‘It is good that Kit wants to dance again.’
‘Just twenty three years late, that’s all,’ grinned his brother.
Justin stood to the side and ruffled up his short curly dark blond hair before shaking his head then started to laugh hard. Kit looked his brother up and down. The slim lithe limbs and very sculptured torso. The physique of a typical dancer.
‘Mother would love this,’ giggled Justin.
‘Don’t tell her,’ scowled Kit, knowing his brother would be hard to convince.
‘You know she’s writing erotic romantic fiction? Gone to some class where all the elderly women are at it. Aloyna read it and says it’s filth.’
‘I never said that, Justin,’ she gasped then whispered. ‘It’s very sexual, that’s all.’
‘She’s writing raunchy stuff to keep her mind focussed after the hip operation,’ sighed Justin. ‘So come on, tell me why you really want to take these lessons. I’m not quite sure how you’ll be able to, as you’re not qualified to teach, but you’re certainly cheering me up.’
Looking at his glass of wine, Kit knew his brother was a hard nut to crack. Justin sat at the table and stared into his eyes.
‘Kit, you know I love you,’ he said gently. ‘And you’ve done so well in the past few years with your addiction but are you sure you’re alright? I worry.’
‘I’m fine,’ he said, forcing a smile. ‘I just want to do something different.’
‘You live equally in the gym and that bar of yours. You need to get some variety and…’ he hesitated. ‘And maybe meet someone?’
‘No,’ he said, his body literally freezing at the idea. ‘I like being alone.’ Justin balanced his chin in his hand and stared. ‘I’m no good at relationships.’
‘Only you could pick the biggest slut in West London and marry her,’ Justin quietly replied as Kit closed his eyes. ‘I know you were with her, on and off, since school but we all knew she was playing you for a fool even when you got together. She wanted to know you when she thought she could squeeze you for the good life. The best thing is you produced is Gracie.’
‘That’s the only good thing in my life,’ he said sadly, feeling a sob come through his chest. He swallowed it down. He’d not cried for years and wasn’t going to start doing so now. ‘I don’t want anything to mess it up.’
‘I know Peter Tooley, a dodgy fuck at the best of times. Come on, Kristin could have had anyone else but she chooses the most well-known small time criminal in Shepherds Bush. She certainly knows how to pick them.’
‘It’s better than being with a coke head, from what she says.’
‘You were clean for a few years and she still did the dirty on you.’
‘She says I was boring.’
‘What? Kristin would prefer you to be dead. I blame her.’
‘Listen bro, don’t,’ scowled Kit, sipping his glass of wine. ‘You’ve got a whole different life.’
‘You could find someone and fall in love. Aloyna and I have been lucky but you know how long it took for us to have Mylo. Seven long years and we’re still paying for the bill.’
‘And I wasn’t much help.’
‘You had your own demons to deal with,’ said Justin, smiling gently at him before leaning forward on the table. ‘What’s really bugging you?’
‘I can’t have this,’ he said, looking around
and seeing the perfect family home. ‘I’ll never have anything similar.’
‘Who says so?’
‘I say,’ Kit replied, gulping hard. ‘I’m never going to have a relationship or a family.’
‘This isn’t about your dick, is it?’ squirmed his brother. ‘Kit, you’re focussing too much on it. You know what you have to do and in time, it will sort itself out. You just have to meet the right person.’
‘What if I meet them and I can’t deliver? Then what happens?’ he asked, closing his eyes, recalling two encounters where he had failed dramatically. Kit was still reverberating from the humiliation. ‘Women aren’t as patient as they say.’
Justin reached out and filled his glass.
‘You’ve not tapped for years. Why would you want to do this? Are you sure you’re not on the outlook for yummy mummies?’
‘I’ve been doing some research,’ he said, sitting forward remembering what Captain told him then feeling bad for lying to his own flesh and blood.
The only good thing is that any money he received he decided he would give his brother some, mainly to cover for the deceit.
‘You have beginner classes and what would fit in perfectly with me was if I could take two classes, the ones on Wednesday and Friday at 11.00am. They might be easy enough and-.’
He was shocked to see his brother burst out laughing, sitting up immediately and putting his hand over his mouth.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Kit, feeling his cheeks go pink.
‘You certainly don’t want to meet anyone if you take those classes, believe me!’
‘Can I stop?’
… Kit asked as Justin put him through another routine before going back to the basic steps.
Grace was joining in and even his daughter was better than him.
‘Dad, you’re really funny,’ she said, going bright red then laughed.
Kit smiled at his beautiful daughter with her dark brown hair piled up on her head. She was small for her age but had the maturity that superseded a twenty one year old.