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The Norway Room

Page 23

by Mick Scully


  They called another man to watch over the boys and left. Others came and went from the room. Sometimes their guard changed. If they tried to speak to each other they were told to shut up. Eventually Geezbo fell asleep and then Ashley too, but fitfully and for a shorter time.

  The next morning they were given some sandwiches. All Day Breakfast with a Twix bar and a can of Coke each. Later they were given cheeseburgers and another Twix.

  Then with dusk came the fear again for Ashley. How long were they going to be kept here? The longer they were kept the worse it was likely to be. That’s what they say, isn’t it? The fear went when someone arrived with a bin bag of clothes. T-shirts, jeans and trainers. The trainers were good ones. They wouldn’t be doing this if they were going to kill them. Geezbo complained when he was given jeans. ‘I pride in my appearance, man. I wear shorts. Always. Not this stuff. Nor there ain’t no ’oodies ’ere either. I always wears ’oodies.’

  The shaven-headed man told him he would be thrown out of the window if he didn’t put the clothes on. Geezbo put them on. For the first time in what seemed like forever Ashley found himself laughing – at the new Geezbo, in his jeans and T-shirt. Both too small for him.

  ‘You dead when this is ova man,’ Geezbo told him.

  The fear returned when they started to take things out of the flat. The blue futon, pictures off the wall. Even a Buddha. They were put in separate rooms. But not for long. The younger man came for Ashley and took him to the main room where Geezbo was sitting on the floor. It was empty now but smelt of joss sticks. The window closed. ‘Sit down.’ There was nothing in the room to sit on so he sat on the floor beside Geezbo.

  The bald man came in. Both men crouched before them. Ashley noticed the black fabric of the bald man’s trousers stretch across his broad thighs. Geezbo would probably look a bit like him when he was older.

  ‘You must listen very carefully. You have seen and done many things boys of your age should not see or do. You have stumbled into the world of men before your time, and tried to act like us. Some boys play stupid games on the railway. It is thrilling – but many get killed. Some are lucky. The train whisks by and they survive – by a hair’s breadth as the English say. You are like those lucky boys. The train raced past and you have survived.

  ‘Everything has been taken care of. It is our way. The Chinese way. One day you may wish to study our culture. It can only benefit you. But for now, listen carefully. All is over. It is as if it never happened. We will take you back now to this house you live in. Then – you clean your minds. Forget. Not the luckiest amongst us escapes the train twice. Live your lives. Better than before if you can. But if you want to keep them – forget everything. Do you understand?’

  Ashley was shocked at the words he heard from Geezbo before he could say a thing.

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  43

  What had he dreamed about? He must have dreamed about something; you have to, don’t you? Ashley lifted his arm and looked at his watch. It was eight o’clock. There was sunshine outside his bedroom window at Cecil Road. He could see blue sky. It was weird. He had slept right through. Last night he didn’t think he would sleep – probably never again, but he had and now he didn’t know what he had dreamed about.

  Downstairs Geezbo was still asleep on the settee. Curled up. His hands sandwiched between his knees. His shoulder rising and falling. Not snoring, but the sound of his breathing audible.

  Ashley went through the kitchen to the bathroom and took a piss. Then he made a cup of tea. He buttered two Weetabix and piled jam on top. He would have liked a proper breakfast, a café fry-up, big and greasy with lots of tea, but this would do for now.

  He sat on the upright chair beside the table to eat his Weetabix and drink his tea. He looked around. He had sat on this chair doing this lots of times. A thousand times. What happens now? he thought. Everything looked the same, but everything was different.

  He wished Geezbo would wake up. But he didn’t know what they would say to each other when he did, so he left him – just watched him sleeping. Last night when they got back he had been full of shit, as high as a kite. Talking all the time. About his nan’s prophecy, about his relative who was hanged, about evil, about destiny. Then he’d left Ashley on his own while he went for some clothes. He wouldn’t say where. Ashley thought he wouldn’t come back. But he did. ‘Weez in dis togetha, man. Destiny’s made uz like bruvvas, innit. Destiny funny ting, man. Me an a puny white kid.’

  Ashley knew he should try and get away from Geezbo – leave now before he woke. Fuck knows what was going to happen otherwise. This was the time to head for London. For Manchester. Anywhere. There were Weetabix crumbs in his lap. He brushed them away, remembering how St George used to pounce on any crumbs or bits of food he dropped. He remembered his dad. Sitting on this chair playing with the dog, rubbing her head. Telling him stories when he was little about dogs and pigeons, about winning races. St George was never even entered for a race although that was once the plan. His dad was all talk, that was the problem. That’s probably why his mom went. But he wished he were here. Perhaps he would go and visit him soon. But without Kieran he didn’t know. It would have been easier with him. And now he was filled with sadness. He liked Kieran. He was sorry he was gone. He was like an uncle – in a way.

  Geezbo started to shake. His legs at first. His legs mainly. But then the rest of him. Shaking like mad. Ashley watched. Then Geezbo’s head fell back, his mouth opened. It started as a yawn, but turned into a noise, like a cry. He opened his eyes. Looked around. The shaking stopped. He scratched his belly, then squirmed to a sitting position. ‘Wha’ you munchin’ on?’

  ‘Weetabix.’

  Geezbo rose and made his way to the bathroom. Ashley heard him piss, then heard him washing, for ages.

  ‘Why there no ’ot water, man?’

  ‘You have to use the immersion.’

  ‘I adta take a shower wiv cold water.’

  ‘We had a shower yesterday.’

  ‘I ’ave to wash away everythin’, man. Cold water probably good for that. Little pain. Good ting.’

  Geezbo insisted he was going back to the sixteenth floor of Nimrod House. ‘Need to see if any damage done to the plants – ’fore I face Linton.’ He had already told Ashley that he knew now more than ever that he wanted to be with the Dobermans – properly, a full member. He would have liked to be a Dragon. He knew that for certain when the Chinaman talked to them – ‘He cool, man. Wise.

  ‘But your race is your race, your colour your colour.’ The Dobermans were his place in the world. And now he had experience. ‘Tha’ worf a truckload a shit man, that iz.’

  ‘He told you he put everything back the way it was.’

  ‘I needs to see. There waz a lota blood – bot’ ya uncle an de utta guy. Dem Chinese boyz professionals, man. But I needs to see if dey left anytin’, miss anytin’. Incriminatin’, innit. I need to know Linton don’t know I waz involved. If they clear away like they say, it puts me in the clear. An I wan’ to see where it ’appen. One more time. Where I did the deed. Understand? It not been on the news nor nuttin. Like I neva did nuttin, man.’

  ‘That’s good.’

  ‘Good and bad, man. Good and bad, innit.’

  *

  Ashley and Geezbo made their way down the Tallis Road to cut across the grass bank to Nimrod House.

  ‘Now yus uncle gone, you can stay where you iz,’ said Geezbo. ‘And I can use it as one of my bases now weed linked.’

  ‘We’re not linked.’

  ‘Oh yes an we are. We stick togevva, ord we swing togevva.’

  They stopped. ‘Shit! They’ve set us up.’ On Nimrod car park there were three police cars, a television crew. ‘Quick. Come on, Geez.’

  ‘’Old on, man. We don’t know whaz goin’ on.’

  ‘We do. We’ve been set up. They never did what they said they would.’

  ‘Stay cool, man. Look. Don’t look like no scene of crime to me. Nuttin ta
ped off. Jus a few cars. Probably jus’ a bust. Come on, man. Stay cool.’

  Ashley followed Geezbo, who had started to saunter in the exaggerated way he sometimes had. Ashley expected they would circle the cars, give them a wide berth, but Geezbo led him right through them. ‘Ooze you bustin’ today? Not my friends on the fourth floor izit? They ain’t done nuttin’. I was widdem all de time. I tell de jury so innit.’

  This made the police officer laugh. ‘We’re not busting anybody today. Unless maybe you if you get too cheeky. We’re here for the soldier’s funeral.’

  Ashley waited outside in the corridor, smoking and drawing in the dirt on the window. He started his name and rubbed it out. Did a couple of question marks and rubbed them out. Then tried to form a question mark with the smoke he exhaled from his cigarette. But he still couldn’t do it. He thought about how cool it would be if he could do writing. The word Sophie slowly taking form from the smoke he exhaled.

  Geezbo was taking his time. Ashley couldn’t go into the flat with him. He never wanted to go in there again. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to smoke weed again. The smell would make him want to puke, just like the other night. He considered how calm Geezbo was, had been since the shooting. Even more confident than before. Ashley wondered if you could become addicted to killing. If it was like crack. Once you tried it you were hooked for life, that’s what they say.

  Geezbo came out of the flat and joined Ashley at the window. ‘Deys did a good job, man. Respect. Big respect. I seed a few tings. Touches ony a expert eye would see, man. But can’t see no blood. All de wiring still workin. No trays of dead plants. Evertin in order. We in de clear man. Big respect to em.’

  He went to the door of the Chinese flat. Put his ear to it. Knocked, and the door swung open. Ashley followed Geezbo in. The flat was empty. The boys wandered round each empty room. ‘Mus’ be an old Chinese trick. Makin evertin disappear. Chinese magic.’

  Mel looked smart in a black suit. ‘I’m glad you’ve turned up love. Soph’s not feeling so good. I’m not letting her go. She’s pulling a face. But I’ve definitely said no. She’ll be all right now she’s got you to stay with her.’ She led Ashley through to the lounge. ‘Soph, your friend’s here.’

  ‘Where you been? Haven’t seen you for ages.’ Sophie was in her pyjamas, lying on the settee, a blanket covering her feet.

  ‘A few days. Nowhere really. Are you all right?’

  ‘She’s just a bit off colour, love. I wouldn’t leave her otherwise. But if I don’t go to this funeral she will.’

  ‘You only want to go because Gareth’s on duty. You didn’t even know Wesley.’

  Ashley sat down on the floor beside Sophie. ‘What you watching?’

  ‘Trisha. Why aren’t you going?’

  ‘Forgot it was today.’

  ‘You could still go.’

  ‘No. I’ll stay here with you.’

  ‘You can watch it from the window. Both of you. It’s coming right past.’

  When Sharon arrived she was also dressed in black. There was a black band on her head from which three wands bearing small black butterflies waved. She bundled across the room to kiss Sophie on the top of her head. ‘How’s my princess? A little bit poorly woorly is we?’ The butterflies wobbled above Sophie’s face. ‘I won’t get too close. Just in case. Do you think you’ve got a cold?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’ Mel answered for her. ‘Just one of those days you get.’

  ‘What do you think of my fascinator?’ She shook her head and the butterflies went mad.

  ‘A bit over the top,’ Mel said. ‘But nice.’

  ‘Over the top!’ She took her hand to her chest in mock shock. ‘Moi?’

  ‘Makes you look like Miss Piggy,’ Sophie said.

  ‘I keep forgetting I’m on the Mendy. Wouldn’t recognise class up here if it crawled into your underpants.’

  ‘We don’t wear ’em up here, love.’ Mel took her bag from the chair.

  Ashley loved listening to this. He wished he could live here with Sophie and Mel. It would be magic to be able to stay here.

  ‘Talking of crawling into one’s underpants, has one heard from our young police officer recently?’

  ‘She had a text half an hour ago,’ Sophie answered for her mother.

  ‘Are they supposed to do that on duty? Personal texts.’

  ‘He’s going to be at the crem. They think there’s going to be some anti-war demonstrators. So there’ll be a few of them there, just in case.’

  ‘Anti-war demonstrators. How disgusting. At the poor boy’s funeral. They won’t need the cops if I see them. Come on. I want a fag before we go. But I’ll have it outside. I don’t want to encourage her.’

  Sophie made him some dinner. Ashley said he would do it but she said she was fine. Spaghetti hoops on toast. The funeral was due to go past at half two, and while Sophie rested on the settee Ashley stood at the window watching. There were small groups of people, half a dozen or so, at various points along the road. A few more on Tallis Corner.

  ‘Here it comes,’ he told Sophie when he saw the undertaker turn into Walton Road, hat and cane held aloft, the hearse slowly following. Sophie joined Ashley at the window.

  ‘Why does that bloke walk in front?’ Sophie asked.

  ‘It’s what they do.’

  As the first limousine appeared Ashley wondered if Karl’s mom had stopped cursing the war. He tried to imagine Wesley, flat and stiff inside his coffin, in his uniform. And in that instant he saw Kieran again. Not dead like he’d last seen him, his broken head propped against Feiyang’s boot, but Kieran sitting on the settee in Cecil Road texting, Kieran carrying a bin bag containing school uniform, listening to Green Day in the car, the Kieran who had said to him quietly: Yeah. It’s a gun, Ash.

  The people on the corner started to applaud as the hearse drew level with them. Two people stretched a union flag between them. Ashley tried to imagine Karl and his mom in the black limousine passing below, but he saw instead his dad in a prison cell, tried to stop a picture of his mom forming in his mind.

  ‘You’re crying, you mong.’ Sophie was taking the piss. But not in a bad way, not mean. ‘I knew you were soft.’

  ‘I was thinking about my mom,’ he said.

  ‘Oh sorry.’

  And what he wanted to do now was take Sophie’s hand and tell her everything. My mom’s not properly dead. She left us, years ago. Never seen her since. So she might just as well be. Easier to think of it that way. But now. I thought I might try to find her. What do you reckon? Will you help me. After the baby. But even thinking it was pointless.

  ‘Is it all right if I have a fag? Or shall I go outside?’

  ‘You’ve got to give me one.’

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘I haven’t had one today.’

  There was a long trail of private cars following the funeral cars. ‘The crem’s going to be packed,’ Ashley told her. ‘They won’t all get in.’

  He lit Sophie’s cigarette, then his own. Through the cigarette smoke he watched the procession moving away. There were tears in his eyes again, but Sophie hadn’t seen them.

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