by Arnot, Tim
She could see their faces in the glow from the fire. It was Stanley Wilder and Harry Flynn. Stanley was one of the gang, and a mate–he’d had a crush on her for years, and sometimes she teased him–but Flynn, he was a few years older, nearly twenty, and had a wife and small child. She wasn’t so sure about how he’d react.
She must have made a noise–she wasn’t sure what it was–but Stanley looked up and called out. ‘Who’s there?’
She thought about trying to hide in the shadows, but realised she’d have to show herself eventually, or be discovered, so she came forward, steeling herself ready to run.
‘Hey Stanley, it’s me. Surprise!’
‘Flick? My God, you look awful.’ Stanley stared for a moment, as if he didn’t recognise her. Then he jumped up. ‘Come and sit by the fire; warm yourself up a bit. Harry, get some tea for the girl.’
Flynn stood up and motioned for her to sit on his stool. She sat, still not sure what was happening, and Stanley wrapped his jacket over her shoulders. ‘This should warm you up a bit.’
‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘It’s been rough, the last few days.’
‘I should coco,’ he said, turning serious.
Harry Flynn returned with a steaming cup of tea and a bowl of hot stew and some bread. ‘Here, get these down you,’ he said.
‘Now don’t take this the wrong way,’ Stanley said, ‘but we’re rather surprised to see you. Pleased. But surprised.’
‘Me too,’ said Flick. ‘It’s all been rather a whirl.’
‘I think Mayor Griffin is going to get a surprise of his own, come the morning,’ Flynn said, chuckling. ‘What I wouldn’t give to see the expression on his face!’
‘Somehow I don’t think it’s going to be very safe, being anywhere near the mayor tomorrow. I’m glad I’m out here on the gate!’ Stanley said.
Flick sipped at her tea. ‘I was worried…’ She couldn’t quite finish the thought.
Stanley looked at her. ‘What, that we’d turn you in? We couldn’t do that, not even if we was ordered to.’
She smiled. ‘Thank you.’
Stanley continued, ‘Nobody believes Griffin’s trumped up charges. We all know that it was him what did it, or one of his henchmen. But nobody will dare speak against him, at least not in public. Fred had a plan, he was organising some kind of…’ He trailed off.
‘I wondered if it was Fred,’ Flick said.
‘What was Fred?’
‘Someone broke one of the little windows and threw me a key. That’s how I got out. I thought maybe it was Fred,’ Flick said.
Flynn shook his head. ‘Of course, you wouldn’t know,’ he said. ‘They got to him, just before the trial.’
‘What? What did they do?’ Flick felt sick in the pit of her stomach. How many people had the mayor killed or hurt because of her?
‘Yeah, Griffin sent two of his men round and gave him a right seeing to. One of them was that thug Adam used to hang around with. Said there was more where that came from if his missus didn’t say what he wanted, and next time they’d take it out on Maggie. And her with a kid on the way too.’
‘Oh, poor thing. Is Fred going to be okay?’
‘He’s pretty banged up. Broke his jaw, broke some ribs, the doc says, but he’ll live.’
‘I knew there was no way would Maggie say those things unless she was being forced to.’ Flick said.
Flynn took up the story. ‘Then the Kingsmen showed up. Six of them arrived and banged on the door, and the heavies came out and started throwing their weight about and it’s just bop, bop, and down they go. So we thought, “Oh good the Kingsmen have arrived; they’ll sort it out,” but they didn’t do nothing and Griffin still had his way.’
‘Six Kingsmen? I only saw four!’
‘Two of ‘em stayed outside, to guard the horses and in case there was trouble I suppose,’ Flynn said.
Stanley resumed the tale. ‘Then just before curfew, Harry and me was on duty when Joe shows up on a bike. “That’s unusual,” I says to Harry, ‘cos Joe doesn’t own a bike. So we challenge him, don’t go outside so close to the curfew and so on, but he says he just come to leave the bike and a bag “in case it was needed.” Well, we thought it was a bit suspicious so we looked inside, and sure enough it’s full of food and warm clothes and stuff. Anyway, Joe said to tell you “sorry”, and you can keep the clothes. Seems his old man doesn’t treat him any better than the rest of us–and the rest you know.’
‘So it was Joe with the key,’ Flick said.
‘Must have been,’ Flynn agreed, handing her the bag that Joe had left.
Flick finished the stew. ‘Thanks,’ she smiled. ‘Now do you mind if I change out of these things? They’re filthy, and I’d like to put on something warmer.’
‘Sure, go in the hut and change; we’ll look the other way. There’s clean water in the bucket, and some ointment and fresh bandages in the bag.’
Flick changed out of the dirty clothes, cleaned herself as best she could, and put on clean things from the bag. There were fresh linen underclothes and a linen shirt, and a supple leather jacket and trousers, along with cotton socks and stout hide shoes. She rubbed the ointment on her hands, arms and legs. Now she knew what Maggie had been subjected to, she didn’t feel quite so bad about the things that she’d been forced to say.
She came out of the hut feeling quite cheerful.
‘Fully suited and booted I see,’ said Stanley, looking her up and down. ‘Listen, you’d better put the old stuff on the fire; get rid of it. That’s what they think you’re wearing and that’s what they’ll be looking for. If we burn it, that’ll get rid of the evidence.
‘Now much as I like sitting and chatting, you’d better be on your way, Miss, ‘cos when they find you gone, they’re gonna be mighty pissed off, and they will come looking. So if I was you, I’d get as far away from here as quick as you can. We’ll tell ‘em you didn’t come this way, have no fear of that.’
Stanley disappeared behind the hut. When he returned, he was pushing a bicycle. Flick recognised it immediately as hers.
‘This is what Joe left. I reckon it might help get some miles between you and Mayor Griffin, if you catch my drift.’
Flick thanked him, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. She hugged Flynn slightly awkwardly. ‘Give my best to your wife, Pauline isn’t it? And the little one.’
‘Just one minute,’ said Stanley, stopping Flick in her tracks, ‘I’d best put a bandage on those hands, they look red raw. It’ll protect them and you’ll feel much more comfortable.’
He sat her back down and took some bandages out of the bag, tying them so that her fingers were still free.
‘Thank you both; I’ll be back, one day,’ she said. ‘I’ll figure out how to beat the mayor, and I’ll be back.’
‘We’ll be here,’ said Stanley.
She then strapped the bag to the back of the bike, and as Flynn and Stanley opened the gates, she mounted and rode through.
‘Good luck,’ they called after her.
Flick pedalled off as fast as she could. The area immediately in front of the wall was exposed grassland and she wanted to cross it as quickly as possible to get to the cover of the trees.
As she crossed the main Oxford to Swindon road, she considered following it. It was a good road heading towards Oxford, but quickly turned into a pretty basic track going the other way. It would get her a good distance, but it was well travelled and much more likely she would be spotted, and there was very little shelter along it. No, she would go to the one place she thought was safe, and by the most direct route–the derelict cottage. She was dog tired, and the sooner she could get there, the sooner she could rest.
The moon had freed itself of the clouds and she made good progress along the lane by moon and star light, crossing under the disused railway tracks and coming eventually to the cottage. By now she was totally exhausted, and it was as much as she could do to prop the bike up against an inside wall before slumping onto the grou
nd. She lay still, her muscles throbbing from cramp and exertion as she finally drifted to sleep.
28
Execution
THE FIRST RAYS of the sun were barely creeping over the horizon when the APC rattled to a halt. The back dropped and Sergeant Wailing ordered everyone out. The squad disembarked and formed into two rows, Adam with them. He was surprised to see that they were already in Faringdon, well beyond the gate and close to the buildings at the south side of the town.
Lieutenant Dixon addressed the squad. ‘Listen up,’ she said, keeping her voice quiet. ‘Our primary objective is to get in, grab the girl and get out. As we suspected, Griffin has tried to get the jump on us, and right now he has thugs going round door to door getting people out of bed and into the square. Now our window of opportunity is going to be pretty small. Too early and we risk losing the element of surprise; too late, and I don’t need to tell you what will happen. There’s going to be a lot of civilians and a lot of bad guys, and they will be mixed up, and it won’t be easy to tell the difference. But when the action starts it’ll probably be the civilians running and the bad guys hitting.
‘There’s various cloaks, jackets, hats and stuff,’ she said, indicating a pile. ‘It’s not much of a disguise, but it’ll pass a casual glance in the middle of a crowd. We don’t want the wrong people to know we’re coming.’
‘“A” team will go in from the east, and “B” team will go in from the west. I shall go in from the south and grab the girl. Carter, you’re with me. Any questions?’
‘No ma’am,’ the squad chorused as one.
‘Very good. We’ll rendezvous back here at zero eight thirty, and with any luck, we’ll be home in time for lunch. Move out!’
The teams moved off in their respective directions, leaving Adam alone with Dixon. While she closed up and locked the APC, Adam had a chance to look at the vehicle. It was made of metal, with wire grilles over the windows, and had big wheels with fat, chunky looking tyres. There was a separate small door in the front for the driver.
‘Come on,’ Dixon said, ‘we’ve still got your sister to rescue.’
Adam nodded and they disappeared into Southampton Street. They joined with a group of people heading towards the square and followed them. No one said a word or showed any reaction to their presence.
In the town square, Adam saw the familiar gallows outside the town hall. The door to the jail though was still firmly shut and there was no one up on the platform. They moved through the crowd towards the front. One person turned as Adam jostled past, and Adam saw the light of recognition in his eyes.
‘Adam Carter? Is that you? I thought you’d been carted off by the Kingsmen!’ the young man exclaimed. ‘I really thought we’d never see you again. Listen mate, I’m so sorry about your sister…’ he trailed off.
‘Colin?’ Adam tried to shush his old friend. ‘Look, keep your voice down, I’m trying not to be noticed.’
‘So what happened? Did you escape? We thought you’d been disappeared for sure,’ Colin said in a whisper that was just as loud. Several people in the crowd turned to look in their direction.
‘What Kingsman Cadet Carter is trying to say,’ Dixon growled, ‘is, shut up and go away.’ She moved her cloak just enough that Colin could see the uniform underneath.
Colin looked at Adam, slack jawed.
Adam shrugged.
‘Now go, before I get angry,’ Dixon hissed.
Colin looked from Adam to Lieutenant Dixon and back again. Then he seemed to make a decision. ‘Right. Nice to see you again. Won’t say a word. Sorry. Bye,’ he said, and disappeared into the crowd just as fast as he could.
‘I hope it’s not going to be like this with everyone we meet,’ Dixon muttered. ‘Now come on, we’ve got a job to do.’
It was only when they reached the cordoned off area at the front of the crowd and he looked around and saw the burnt out shell of The Crown and smelled the burned timbers that the enormity of what was happening hit him.
‘Oh God!’ he muttered. Tears formed in his eyes and he stifled a sob.
‘Steady, Cadet,’ Dixon whispered, ‘keep it together.’
‘Sorry ma’am. It’s just that I saw… Until now… Well it wasn’t real.’ He realised he was starting to blub, and turned away. He should be strong, but instead he was crumbling.
‘I know. But we’ve got a job to do. Your sister is depending on us.’ Dixon put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.
He sniffed and wiped the dampness from his eyes. ‘Yes ma’am. I’ve got it under control.’
‘Good. Now keep an eye out; things should start happening very soon.’
There were two Watchmen standing guard outside the jail. Adam recognised them: Corporal Jim Ross and Lance Corporal Steve Barker. They weren’t close friends, but they were upright guys. Something about them seemed a little strange, Adam thought. Were they more nervous than usual? Their eyes seemed to be darting about the crowd. Maybe they were scared themselves, or maybe they had some inkling of what was about to happen. Adam wondered how they’d react when the Kingsmen grabbed Flick. Would they put up a fight? He didn’t particularly relish the idea that he might have to fight against his old buddies and possibly hurt them. Or perhaps they’d see it as an opportunity to make a stand against the mayor and his bullies.
Adam scanned the faces at the front of the crowd. There were several of the mayor’s thugs looking belligerent in their fake Kingsmen uniforms, but Adam noticed that each one had a real Kingsman standing next to them, trying to look inconspicuous but ready to strike at the same time. Then he spotted Colin, looking straight at him. Adam tried to look away, but Colin had spotted that Adam had seen him, and waved.
Adam groaned; Colin could ruin everything. He looked away quickly.
At exactly five minutes to eight, the mayor appeared at the edge of the square, surrounded by his henchmen. They cleared a path for him and he pushed through to the door. He dismissed the two Watchmen who were standing sentry, and they quickly disappeared into the crowd. That seemed odd to Adam.
‘Something’s not quite right,’ Dixon whispered. ‘Why did the guards run? And where’s the vicar? There’s always a vicar! Stay on your guard…’
Adam swallowed, and nodded. He pulled his jacket tighter around him, eyes darting hither and thither watching for the slightest sign of trouble.
The mayor reached the door and made a big show of taking the key from his pocket, placing it into the lock and turning it. He pushed the door open and disappeared inside.
For a moment, there was silence.
Dixon made a hand signal, and Adam noticed a series of slight scuffles as the thugs that he’d spotted earlier at the front of the crowd seemingly just crumpled to the ground.
‘We’re up,’ Dixon said, and Adam saw that her shawl had gone, and her gun was already in her hand.
Dixon had barely taken a step into the cordoned off area when there was an almighty roar, and Mayor Griffin stormed out of the jail, pushing several henchmen out of the way.
‘Where is she?’ he bellowed. ‘Find me those guards, I’ll have their hides for mincemeat!’
He grabbed the two nearest henchmen and shoved them through the door, ‘You and you, find out what happened.’ Then the next two henchmen he shoved into the crowd, ‘Get those guards and bring me their heads!’ he yelled. ‘And the rest of them too!’
Then he spotted the Kingsmen storming towards him. ‘You!’ he bellowed.
People in the crowd started screaming and shoving, and Adam found himself engulfed as the crowd surged forward. Then a shot rang out, Adam couldn’t tell where it had come from, and the crowd changed direction, carrying Adam along with it.
Adam found himself sprawled on the ground at the edge of the square, close to Church Street. He picked himself up. Most of the crowd had gone, fleeing into the side streets. The Kingsmen, the mayor and his henchmen were nowhere to be seen.
He looked behind him at the burnt out wreck of The Crown Inn,
stark in black and white like a ghoulish spectre. Whitewashed walls contrasted with the blackened window holes like empty, staring dead eyes. A pile of burnt timber lay where the archway gates had been; he could probably climb over it, but he really didn’t want to. The door was completely missing from the bar entrance, either burnt or smashed in, Adam didn’t know which. He poked his head inside, being careful not to touch the burnt surround. He couldn’t see much detail as everything was blackened, but he could see through the collapsed ceiling right to the gaping hole where the roof used to be. And the stench of burnt wood and carpet and curtains and whatever else was making him gag.
‘Oi you, get out of it!’ someone behind him shouted, and he felt a rough hand grab at him and pull him back. He turned and saw it was one of the mayor’s thugs.
‘No one’s allowed in there. Mayor said so. Now push off!’ the man said. Adam didn’t recognise him; it wasn’t one of the old regular henchmen that Adam had seen around before he left. And neither did the henchman seem to recognise Adam. Well, Adam wasn’t going to enlighten him, so he just muttered an apology and sloped off up Church Street.
Adam hadn’t lived at The Crown for fifteen years without knowing the back way in, so once he was sure that the henchman wasn’t watching him, he slipped into an alley, towards a gap in the fence that he knew would get him into the back of the stables. He wanted another look. Maybe something would occur to him; maybe he’d see something, a sign that Rosie or Dad were still alive, anything.
He was about to push through the bushes that concealed the gap, when he heard something.
‘Pssst!’
He looked around. There was a hand beckoning him into the bushes, ‘Are you being followed?’ the voice hissed.
‘No,’ Adam hissed back.
‘Can anyone see you?’ the voice hissed again.