by Phil Redmond
Luke nodded. ‘Got expelled for tearing up the running track doing wheelies or something?’
‘Doughnuts. Anyway. He’s got the keys to the castle.’
‘What?’
‘He lives in the old cottage on the towpath. Just along from the control box. Where he …?’ He let it hang for Luke to pick up.
‘Operates the swing bridge?’ Luke asked. Intrigued.
Joey nodded, but noticed that as Luke took this in he seemed a bit more preoccupied with something else. ‘And?’ he asked.
‘One last question from me.’ He leaned forward and brought the coffee cup up to his mouth, obscuring his lips, just in case. ‘Go or no go?’
‘What’s that mean?’
‘We’re trained for point and shoot. In, out, job done, get gone. Someone else always has to consider the consequences. It’s always someone else who has to make the final decision.’ He left it at that. For Joey to think about. To think through the consequences.
Joey did. For him, Natasha and the kids. Of him getting caught. He had thought of little else since his chat with Natasha. But he’d also thought a lot about Janey. About what had happened and nearly happened to Tanya. And about the young lad found dead on a sports field named after another young lad who’d died tragically from a heart condition. That was a waste. But how much greater waste was it for someone to be killed by drugs?
‘If you mean can I live with the consequences of … what? Whatever you want to do with your body warmer? Then, yeah. I can.’
The two old friends held each other’s eyes for a moment. Understanding. It was go. Before their attention was drawn to the window by the sound of the horn on Bobby’s Range Rover, as he roared off.
‘Hilary was right. Can’t help himself,’ Joey laughed. But then turned back to Luke. More serious. ‘Do you think he knows anything? Or just guessing?’
Luke remained unfazed. ‘Even if he does, he’s not going to talk. The real question is, why is he letting this bunch from out of town operate on his patch?’
It was a good point. And one Joey had completely overlooked. If Bobby did know everything that was going on in Highbridge then he’d know exactly what was really being sold at the chippy. And, much more to the point, was he in on it? Was the devil really fishing to protect his own?
Over by the gas heaters Sean was in deep discussion with Mr and Mrs Councillor.
‘Yes, we heard all about the demo. But that is not the way to go about things. There are procedures.’ It was Mr Councillor, Malcolm Sawyer, Chair of Education.
‘And as for the playground itself, Sean, it’s been debated and agreed. It’s for the good of the town.’ Mrs Councillor, Sarah Sawyer, Chair of Planning, declared in a tone that she expected would bring the conversation to an end.
‘Who by?’ Sean replied with an incredulous edge that seemed, to the Chair of Planning, to be challenging the very principles of democratic government.
‘By the elected members of the Town Council, Sean,’ Mr Councillor, Chair of Education, replied on behalf of both himself and his spouse and fellow Chair.
‘And did they consult anyone who might be vaguely interested? Like the public they are supposed to represent?’
‘We are elected to do the job on their behalf,’ Education responded. ‘You know how it works. If you don’t like it, you can easily vote us out.’
‘Oh come off it, Malcolm,’ Sean responded. ‘All I’m asking is whether it’s true, or not, that you lot are flogging off the kids’ playground.’
‘It’s your tone we are finding objectionable, Sean,’ Mrs Councillor, Chair of Planning, replied. Firmly.
Sean decided to take a breath. Count to ten and continue. But he only got to three before Education had had enough of this intrusive invasion of their shopping trip.
‘Look, Sean, we are out trying to enjoy ourselves by spending money here, with you. If you feel so strongly about this matter, then write to us formally.’ The Chair of Education then took the elbow of Planning to guide her away. Obviously the meeting had been declared over. But Sean stepped in front of them. With Any Other Business.
‘Hang on,’ he said. ‘All right, I might have been a bit harsh, but what is that political saying? If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen?’ He glanced round, and smiled, hoping it would defuse the obvious tension. ‘Or greenhouse, perhaps?’
‘Your apology is accepted, Sean,’ Planning responded. ‘But Malcolm is right. If you feel …’
It hadn’t worked. ‘I didn’t apologise, Sarah. I’ve …’ He emphasised the point. ‘I’ve done nothing to apologise for.’
‘Are you implying that we have?’ Education suddenly blustered.
‘Well,’ Sean commented, slightly surprised by the vehemence of the reaction. ‘What’s that other saying about he who protesteth too much? Have you Malcolm? Is there something going on that we, the electorate, should know?’
‘How about this, Sean? We won’t tell you how to grow plants if you don’t tell us how to run the Council. Now, are we still welcome to buy a spot of lunch?’
‘Look Malcolm, I know you see yourself as part of some sort of local political dynasty, following on from your dad and granddad, but you are there to represent everyone, remember, not just the ones who voted for you.’
‘Well if more people bothered to turn out and vote …’
But Mrs Councillor recognised that this was drifting towards a typically male, locked-antlers confrontation so demonstrated why she had become Chair of Planning, and intervened.
‘Sean, if what you are asking is, are there any plans under consideration for redeveloping the playground area, then the answer is yes. We have a preferred developer, but all is being done above board and under the EU Procurement Rules. Which we have to abide by, of course, whether we like it or not.’
She succeeded in making the two stags back off, but only long enough to allow Sean to draw breath and come back with another question. ‘If that’s the case, then how come the public and local media don’t know anything about it?’
‘Sometimes we have to act, on behalf of the people if you like, under a cloak of commercial confidentiality.’
‘And what does that mean?’
‘You know as well as we do about all the problems attached to that playground.’
‘Yes. Including the young lad who was killed there the other night,’ Sean countered.
‘We don’t know if he was killed,’ the Chair of Planning shot back. No doubt as a Point of Information. ‘Only that he died. Tragically, perhaps, but we mustn’t jump to conclusions. About anything.’ It was her turn to emphasise a point.
‘Sarah, look …’ Sean was trying to remain calm in the face of this political stonewalling. ‘He died of a drugs overdose. Those who sold him the drugs killed him, in my book. And those who allow that to happen should be …’ He hesitated as he could see her lips beginning to purse and the Chair of Education’s complexion changing to a ruddy hue as his blood pressure was obviously creeping up. ‘Should be challenged.’
‘Through the proper procedures,’ the Chair of Education replied, clearly thinking he needed to educate Sean on the workings of the Council. ‘As I said at the outset. And if you have any trouble with that, I suggest you take it up with the Chair of the Council, Councillor Peagram.’
‘The Chair of the Council? Why are you being so formal, Malcolm? What happened to the spirit of public–private partnership?’
‘Because, Sean, that only goes so far.’
‘As far as a free lunch, perhaps?’ Sean regretted it as soon as he said it. He had thrown them a way of getting off the hook. Dignified outrage. Something they appeared well used to deploying.
‘Is that really the way you see public service, Sean? Scratching backs and feathering nests?’ Education enquired. Loftily.
‘None of us enter public service expecting gratitude or favour,’ Planning added. For information.
Sean now appreciated how good and formidable a pair they
were as he tried to recover. ‘I didn’t mean … That came out wrong. I’m just trying to find out what’s happening.’
‘Then I suggest that the first thing you find out is how the formal procedures should be followed. But if it suits you better, if you don’t like what we say, then, by all means, talk directly to Harold. Now, may we go for lunch?’
Sean knew when he was being stonewalled, or ignored, but tried to smile graciously as he stepped to one side and offered a guiding arm towards the café.
The Chair of Education headed off gruffly, without another word, but the Chair of Planning, the real politician of the pairing, leaned closer to Sean. He thought she might be going to offer some word of political advice. He should have known better.
‘I hear Craig Harlow’s going to open your Christmas attraction. How thrilling. And we’ll be here to support you. I’m a big fan.’ She almost sounded guilty, as she gave a hunched-up smile and headed off.
Perhaps he should listen to Glynnis and Sandra more. Especially about running for the Council himself. If he had had any doubts before, he didn’t now. Even if it was just to see the look on their faces as they discovered that, in the end, there was no such thing as a free lunch. But, right now, he thought, if word is creeping out I’d better make sure everything works properly for when Craig arrives. And I can throw a bit of work Joey’s way at the same time.
Joey had just finished replacing the wattle hurdle fence when the call came from Sean. Could he come over the following day and check the wiring for Santa’s Garden as a celebrity was visiting on Saturday?
‘That’ll be Craig Harlow,’ Natasha said when he asked her if she knew anything.
‘How’d you know that? Sean just said it’s a secret.’
She gave him a look. ‘But not from Sandra?’
Joey nodded, then added, ‘As you know everything. Is there a tranny working in the optician’s?’
‘You mean Marian?’
‘If I knew I wouldn’t be asking, would I?’
‘Everyone knows that. He’s a bit weird but seems very efficient. So everyone says.’
Joey was about to ask whether he wore a dress to work or not, but noticed the number of plates Natasha handed him.
‘What are all these for?’
‘It’s pizza night. All the kids bring friends over.’
He had no need to say anything. His face said it all. Another of life’s rituals he had missed but would have to start getting used to.
‘How much else have you not told me about while I’ve been away?’
She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Only the stuff you didn’t need to worry about. I just set the plates and cutlery. They do the rest online. And I settle down to my spinach and apple salad in front of Eastenders and stare at my phone, hoping you will call.’
‘Oh yeah? Like the good little wifey?’ he teased.
‘But I’ve got you here tonight, haven’t I?’ Then, with a mischievous seductive laugh, ‘In the flesh.’ She pulled down her cowl-necked sweater to reveal the Elle Macpherson bra he had bought her for, as she kept reminding him, his last Christmas present. It took him by surprise. Something else his face gave away.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.
‘Nothing,’ he said quickly. Instinctively. Then corrected himself. ‘Didn’t think you’d be, well, in the mood, after … You Know.’
‘What? After you confirming what I’d been suspecting for the past month or so? C’mon, Joe. So long as you promise me you won’t get directly involved. And it doesn’t affect the kids. I don’t care …’ But she hesitated. Correcting herself. That wasn’t exactly the way she felt. She did care. About Luke as her brother-in-law. But not for the ones who didn’t care about her kids. They were due anything that was coming to them. ‘I don’t care what happens to the people Luke is after. So long as you keep your promise.’
He reached out to pull her closer, but she resisted the full engulfment. She wanted to look him directly in the eye. Knowing that she would see any nanosecond of doubt. There wasn’t any. So she let herself be engulfed. They were, as always, locked together.
Matt and Luke were, if not enjoying, then finishing off another ration pack. Italian Tuna Pasta. Matt had opted for the cherry flavoured isotonic drink while Luke had gone for the lemon. Matt was looking at the empty sachet.
‘How come we get Italian pasta from a company in Denmark that has it made in Thailand? Shouldn’t they be making Thai curried chicken or something?’
‘Italians probably doing that,’ Luke responded.
They were sitting in the Transit watching the four camera feeds on the four cheap laptops. Matt had got back to the Highbridge sign and fitted the last camera as soon as the maintenance team moved on for lunch. Thanks to Joey’s earlier seminar on tapping into a lamppost’s power supply, each camera would be permanently on, even though they expected Leather and his gang to appear mid-to late evening when there would be people around to squeeze. They would use the same global drill. What have you seen? What do you know? Any strangers in town? Who’s been here you didn’t know? What did they look like? A robust mix of coaxing, cajoling and outright torture, if necessary. The aim was twofold. Gather information. Spread fear.
The laptop was cable-tied to the loading rack just by the side door, and had its power pack connected to a power inverter linked to a deep charge 12-Volt car battery. It would run for the hours they needed it and be rotated with a replacement battery each day, if required. They didn’t need a seminar from Joey on that one.
‘So Gazza lives down in the old towpath cottage now, does he? Come with the job?’ Matt asked.
‘Don’t think so. But he was mad on fishing, wasn’t he?’
Matt nodded. ‘And he gets to walk two minutes to work. How’d we contact him?’
‘Three rings on his Emergency line. No pick-up. And he’ll pop down and open the bridge. According to Joe, he reckons if it’s after midnight and we can be in and out within a few minutes no one will kick off. Between about half nine and midnight it’ll be fifty-fifty. Any earlier we’ll have to break into his cottage, drag him out and make him do it.’
Matt spluttered out half a pack of a fruit and nut mix.
Luke just shrugged. ‘That’s what Joe said.’
‘Does this sound like he’s done it before?’ Matt asked. ‘Or am I being paranoid?’
‘Stag do’s, apparently! I didn’t want any more details,’ Luke responded. It was all Matt needed to know.
They sat for a moment dividing up what remained of the ration pack, while going over what each had to do when Leather’s crew arrived. They both knew that this time it was not going to be about front. Or bottle. It was going to be win or lose. Nothing else.
‘One thing,’ Matt suddenly said. ‘When this is done …’ He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to. The reflective sadness in his voice was enough.
‘OK,’ Luke said. ‘I know.’
Matt held out a wide five. Luke clasped it. The pact was sealed.
A few hours later they were both asleep. Matt had checked the feed from Leather’s house as soon as they got back to the cottage, but there was nothing in the log. No activity. So they had done the only thing they could do. Recharge their own batteries. The old maxim. Sleep when you can. It was something many took to the ultimate level, even sleeping on the helos on their way into a hot zone. Matt was never that relaxed. With the pact agreed, he couldn’t wait to get into the fray.
10
Consequences
ALTHOUGH HAVING TO sit through EastEnders was not what Joey had in mind for a regular regime, sharing a settee with Natasha was a lot better than a boil in the bag supper with Benno. As the drum fill sounded on the theme music he took advantage of the cowl neck to slide his hand inside to cup her breast. She took it out. She wanted to return to the conversation they had been having before she’d shushed him so she could focus on that night’s hook.
‘The biggest surprise in all this, Joe, is actu
ally you wanting to be involved with Bobby McBain.’
‘Oh, the family’s good enough for your daughter is it, Nat, but not for me?’ Joey protested, tongue very firmly in cheek.
‘There’s not much we can do about who Tanya fancies, although from the picture she showed me he does look quite cute.’
‘Well he didn’t get that from his dad, did he?’ Joey said as he continued to tell Natasha about the conversation with Bobby. How he was trying to set up a few legit businesses to, if not leave his own past behind, then at least give Max a better chance. How it was something all parents wanted and who were they to pre-judge him like everyone else did? And how, once branded, it was difficult to shake off the reputation.
‘And what makes you think people still don’t ask me why I ended up with you?’ she asked, but was smiling.
‘He’s going to send me a copy of the Council’s confidential briefing for potential developers.’
It worked. She was immediately intrigued. ‘And how’d he get that?’
‘Apparently … He knows everything that goes on in town.’
‘Which is exactly why you shouldn’t get involved. He’ll only be getting that briefing through some dodgy dealing.’
‘But it would keep me home more.’ He slid his hand across to cup her breast again.
‘If you don’t end up in jail.’ But she didn’t remove his hand this time. Which was when Tanya came in, just in time to see her father’s hand rapidly retreat from inside her mother’s top.
‘Oh, sorry. I forgot, you didn’t get any last night.’
‘Tanya!’ Joey spat out. In instinctive father mode. As was his look to Natasha. ‘Is this what she’s like when I’m not here? As well as out clubbing on a school night?’
‘Oh don’t start again. Tell him, Mum.’
‘I think you’re quite capable of telling him yourself,’ Natasha replied, not wanting to get involved. It would help Joey catch up if she left him to fend for himself. She stood up and collected the plates. ‘Tea, darling?’
Joey nodded, noting the grin. As did Roscoe, who probably decided Joey could cope as he followed the carbonara plates out. Joey turned back to Tanya. ‘Look—’