Dead End

by Andrew Hamilton

  An hour later she had tidied the house and had drained three coffees and nibbled her way through two kit-kats. At this rate, it was maybe a good job she was giving up on the CSR work, although there were the clients who were known as ‘chubby chasers’. She turned on the TV, skipped rapidly through about twenty channels and turned it back off. Morning TV was such a waste of a life she thought. She walked over to the kitchen window and ran the hot tap and pretended to wash some dishes. She allowed her hair to fall over her face and was furtively squinting through it in the direction of the garage window. The window was covered in webs and dirt and she could not even see if the van was still in there. She wondered if he was out of the van watching her and if not what was he doing? What was the inside of the van like? Did he have food and water and what about a toilet? Margaret wished for Thursday more than she remembered wishing for Christmas as a child.

  By mid-afternoon, she was as bored as hell and thought about doing some gardening. But with the man in the van, it would need to be at the front as working at the back would have been spookier than being indoors. She stood by the edge of the window next to the back door. She was out of sight but when she tweaked at the curtain it gave a sliver of a view of the garage door. She was staring at it intensely and thought she saw it move a fraction. She blinked, took a deep breath to steady herself and narrowed her eyes, trying to focus on the gap between the garage doors, watching for the slightest of movement. Out of the corner of her eye, she suddenly realised the handle of the back door was turning and someone barged their shoulder against it. She leapt back as if on springs and gabbed at a wine bottle next to the microwave. A face appeared at the window as she stood holding the bottle above her shoulder waiting to lash out at anyone who forced their way in.

  Harry looked through the window at his mum completely bewildered. His immediate thought was that she had finished the bottle of wine and must be drunk, but it was only three in the afternoon and he had managed to get out of his last lesson which was RI. He considered himself a scientist and a Darwinist and had no time for the ‘god squad’.

  Margaret unlocked the door and Harry gave her a questioning look.

  “Sorry, you gave me a start.”

  “Why was the door locked, I nearly dislocated my shoulder.”

  “Stop exaggerating.”

  “I’m not, I think I might need some kind of special treat now.”

  “I’ll give you ‘special treat’ in a minute.”

  “So what’s going on?”

  “Nothing, I wasn't expecting you till later. It's in the papers about some break-ins so make sure you do the same.”

  “Ok, unconvincing but Ok.”

  “Never mind ‘unconvincing’, why are you home early?”

  “I dogged RI”.

  “Fair enough, I can't argue with that.”

  “What’s for tea?”

  “For your cheek, I’m making Brussell sprout soup”.

  “Well mum, you know what effect sprouts have on you?”

  Margaret went to grab him but he squirmed his way out of her grasp and ran to his room dropping his schoolbag on the kitchen floor. She was smiling at his quick-witted humour but she had to agree that sprouts were indeed a delicious but deadly food source. She had temporarily forgotten about her external lodger. She lifted Harry’s rucksack and took out the one-time ice cream tub which she had used to keep his tuna mayo sandwiches fresh. They had been eaten, she was pleased to see, but she noticed something in the small zipper pocket in the bag. Something she had seen and used many times. A ‘Fetherlite’ condom in its red wrapper. She heard his room door open and she moved back over to the sink with the empty tub. He grabbed the bag from the table and glimpsed inside before heading back to his room muttering something about needing to get his homework done. Homework before gaming was a first she thought. She hadn't had ‘the talk’ with him as she hadn't seen him as interested. Surely the schools did all that these days? Even if Paddy was around he would have been hopeless at this. He would have probably shaken his hand and embarrassed the hell out of Harry. She decided to sleep on it for know, especially with Thursday looming. After all, he was hardly going to be using them at school, was he?

  As she prepared tea she wondered how to arrange him being away on Thursday night and how to make sure he stayed out of the garage. There was not the slightest chance of Harry turning his hand to gardening so the garage would generally be a no-go zone. She decided to tell him that she had looked into the garage for gardening tools only to find the roof was leaking and there was damp everywhere. She would add that it was full of earwigs which were Harry’s kryptonite. When she told him, while sitting at the kitchen table, an hour later he stopped and looked in the direction of the garage. He couldn't see the garage from where he was sitting but he knew it was there and it was now a place to avoid.

  “I’ve got a friend coming round on Thursday night.”

  “Male or female?”

  “Just a friend.”

  “So, male then. I hope this isn't going to be my ‘new Uncle’,” he gave his best false smile.

  “You know I’ve never done that with you.” She felt slightly hurt by that.

  “I was just kidding, I could go to Uncle Ian’s. He’s got superfast broadband.”

  “You sure?”

  “No probs, can’t wait to surf those super speeds.” Harry smiled at his mum. He wanted nothing more than for her to be happy.

  They finished up and she asked if he fancied watching a film. He didn't but he agreed anyway. He sat on the floor in front of the sofa. They watched Jaws, a film they had watched at least three times together. She played with his hair just like she did when he was five and wouldn't go to sleep. He fell asleep before Sheriff Brody got to say “we’re gonna need a bigger boat” so she nudged him and he sloped off to bed.

  She checked the back door before bed even though she knew it was still locked. The garage was quiet and dark.

  19

  Carla spotted Dario chatting to the postman and it wasn't the first time in the past couple of weeks. She watched him looking through the mail and when he came in he handed it over to Ashley, who was sporting a bright shade of pink, folically. The post van delivered almost on the dot at about 8.45am Monday to Friday. Carla asked Ashley about the mail delivery on Monday and she just said that she didn't know where it had come from but that it was lying on her desk, when she got in, late as usual, at 9.15. Carla decided to try and find out what he was up to and had joked with him that if he wanted to be the office junior she would arrange an interview. He hadn't taken that suggestion well but had then over explained that he was waiting on a delivery. He had arranged for it to be delivered to the office as it was for his girlfriend and he didn't want her to open it. He added that it was something fragile and he was trying to make sure it wasn't broken when delivered. Carla knew he was waffling. He rarely had a girlfriend that lasted more than a month and he wasn't the type of boyfriend who bought presents. She knew all this from the information cycle that was made up of Bob, Zoe, Diane and her.

  She made a point of keeping an eye out for the post on Wednesday and again Dario was doing his postal collection. She watched him take a letter from the bundle and crush it into the back pocket of his trousers without opening it. She later asked if his parcel had arrived and he confirmed it had. He was unusually pleasant to her, thanking her, before saying that he would leave the mail to Ashley from now on. He seemed relieved as much as anything. He had made off to his room and closed the door. Carla happened to be in his room later that day but there was no sign of an opened envelope in his bin. She knew he was up to something but was stumped as to what. It was going to difficult to go to Bob with a weak story about Dario being devious, especially when he had his excuse in place. She had often noticed that Dario was quick thinking and could worm his way out of one obvious lie with another from his expansive collection. But she was aware that Bob had tasked Craig with an inventory, pretty much she thought, as a way of find
ing out why Dario was using the container. Carla made a point of raising the issue again with Bob and he immediately got him back on the trail. Craig had then reported that he had the list complete but that Dario had refused to allow him into the Container No.3 and that this had been cleared as okay with Bob. Bob called Dario into his office.

  “Craig might need the use of that container. I think he needs the space?” said Bob.

  Dario glanced behind him expecting to see Carla listening somewhere nearby. “Can we hold off for a few weeks?”

  “Why do you need it?”

  “It’s for the Ducati.”

  “Can it not go in the main shed?”

  “The crews will just fuck about with it, you know they will.”

  “Is that all that’s in there?”

  “What do you mean?” Dario’s eyes narrowed and his tone changed. He was sure all of this was from Carla, sticking her nose in.

  “I mean, it’s a big unit for just a bike.”

  “I’m not sure what I’m being accused of here but is this Bob speaking or maybe someone else.”

  “Come on! No need to be like that. Ok, you can use it till the end of the month, then.”

  Carla was listening in the corridor and on hearing that she knew it was time to intervene and walked into Bob’s office.

  “Did I hear someone mention that Container? Craig was just nagging me about needing it.”

  “Right! Let’s go, follow me.” Dario was up out of his seat and standing in the doorway challenging them to accept.

  “Dario, it's fine, no one is accusing you,” said Bob but Carla was on her feet and wasn’t for letting him off that easy and followed him to call his bluff.

  Dario removed the padlock and threw open the doors. There, was the Ducati, a chair and some towels.

  “The towels are from my flat for drying off the bike and the chair was in the container when it arrived. Neither is stolen. I also have the logbook for the Ducati if you need to see it?” He glared at Carla.

  Bob arrived just in time to stop the fight. Carla walked, unrepentant, with head held high, back to her office. Bob looked around the container. It was the first time he had been in any of them since Dario had managed to buy them. They were in better condition than he had expected and were neatly lined with ply board. When Dario had asked for £8000 in cash to buy them Bob had thought that seemed expensive at the time but he had been so busy he hadn’t got round to looking at the cost of a standard second-hand unit.

  “Where did we get these from again?” asked Bob.

  “From an old contact,” said Dario rather defensively.

  “Why were they selling them, they seem in good nick?”

  “I think the owner was going to jail and needed money for his missus.”

  “Jail! What for?”

  “I think he murdered his boss for asking too many questions.”

  Bob burst out laughing and the tension was gone. Ten minutes later everything was back to normal.

  Dario closed his office door and once again took the document out of the envelope. He was feeling good about himself as he had not only managed to get his hands on it he had also bought some time by discrediting the one called Carla. Bob wasn't going to be challenging him about anything he did for some time. This was an unexpected bonus in his planning timeline.

  20

  Margaret had just wished away three days of her life and during that time had not spotted the slightest bit of activity in the garage. Danny had referred to ‘the man in the van’ as an individual but she was sure that someone must have been taking over each night, otherwise, that poor man must completely exhausted and filthy. At least Thursday had arrived and by tomorrow she could resume a normal life, or as normal as a CSR could manage. Harry had left to go to Uncle Ian’s the previous evening and she was glad to get him safely out of the way. She was expecting Danny at any moment but he assured her no one would see him arrive at her home. He had told her to close all the windows and blinds in her living room, which she had. If Clark was watching he would be pretty certain she was home alone.

  Danny’s face appeared at the kitchen window; she jumped with fright but quickly opened the door. Behind him was a short powerful man wearing everything in black. He was heavily hirsute and his woolen hat was pulled down to just above his eyes. He didn't look at her but made his way to the hall and into the living room as if he knew his way around her home.

  It was dark outside and Danny closed the blinds in the kitchen. He had checked the surrounding areas along with ‘the man from the van’ and given it the all clear. Danny explained what he wanted her to do. That was, to allow Clark in either back or front door. Tell him that Harry was away and offer him two thousand pounds to leave her alone altogether. Danny was counting on him rejecting that offer and starting a search for Harry. Danny wanted that search to include the cellar but had several backup plans in place. He assured her that if at any time they were worried about her safety they would tackle him head on and she should leave in her car and he would call her when it was time to come home. Danny made her repeat the plan back to him until she had walked through the options several times in her head.

  Just over an hour later Margaret’s stomach turned to jelly. She used all her abdominal muscles to control herself and answered the back door. Clark was standing there staring blankly and coldly at her.

  “Where is he? Why didn't he come home from school?”

  “He’s away. Let me help you instead. I’ve got money.”

  “Look, if we’re going to be a family he needs to be here.”

  Margaret hated the fact that he mentioned such a possibility for the second time and wasn't sure if he was serious or just tormenting her with the idea. She found herself nearly shouting for help and running to get Danny but she held her nerve. He pushed past her and wandered into the living room.

  “I don't like that sofa; we’ll need to change it.”

  “I’ll give you five thousand to leave us alone.” Margaret had gone slightly off plan.

  “Did you keep him off school today; is he hiding waiting for me to leave?”

  “No. Honest. He’s gone out.”

  Clark went from room to room throwing each door open in turn. He stopped momentarily at the cellar door and glanced round and gave Margaret a knowing look.

  “The cellar, I remember you saying he had a false panel on a wall and a den where he hid as a child, something about the end of the world?”

  Clark opened the door and felt for the light switch. At the bottom of the stairwell, he could see a beach chair and some garden shears. He took a couple of steps down and next to the chair he could then see a pair of black boots. Harry wasn't even bothering to hide he thought to himself. After another two steps and he could see up to the waistline, but a waistline that was not that of a fifteen-year-old boy. Clark suddenly felt hunted rather than a hunter. His foot hovered over the step below and he carefully brought it back and behind him as he planned his retreat. The black boots remained still and silent. He took a step back up the stairs but kept his eyes fixed on the boots. He tried another step and without looking reached behind himself for the edge of the door. He was going to make a run for it but wanted to get the door locked. He spun around only to be met square on the face by a size eleven black boot. The man from the van had enormous feet for his size. Clark was catapulted down the stairs, crumpling onto the floor and cracking his head off a wooden post. His vision was blurred and for a moment he peered up at the underside of the beach chair: a flimsy white metal frame with blue and white woven nylon seat and back. The seat had a small hole in the material right in the middle. He felt a thud to the back of his head and everything went dark.

  21

  Carla was sitting opposite Diane in Ravello’s. They were entertaining Edward Thomas and his wife Elizabeth. Mr. Thomas was a local councillor and had the support of many of the local business community. He was delighted to be out with Diane, a wealthy local business woman, who was paying for the
meal, and he was gladly holding court within the restaurant as any such dignitary might be prone to do. Diane could see some annoyed glances and hear mutterings from some of the other tables: the councillor was in full flow and that suited her perfectly. Diane always made a point of being seen out in public when there was an event to manage. Danny would be busy working on his proposal to Clark and the councillor gave her a first class alibi. Carla hated these outings and generally avoided them but, being a couple, she knew they had to be flexible and make sacrifices.