The Jump

by Martina Cole

  She looked towards Timmy’s cell for a second then followed Georgio down to the recreation room. Old black and white movies were her favourites.

  Inside, the noise was deafening. Chopper and Ricky were playing the game, the game being fronting each other up. All the other cons watched them surreptitiously while playing pool, cards, or Scrabble. Benjamin Dawes was regaling everyone with jokes as usual. Georgio sat down at an empty table and began to watch Leroy, Ricky’s number two, cutting out pictures of naked women from a copy of Parade.

  ‘I never noticed before how many women in magazines are blonde. Strange that, ain’t it?’ Leroy’s voice was amazed. ‘I never had much need for this type of thing on the outside, always had a bird in tow. Now I get me jollies by looking at pictures. Fucking pathetic really, ain’t it?’ He threw the magazines on to the table and sighed. ‘Want a game of chess, Georgio?’

  Georgio was surprised. ‘Do you play?’

  Leroy laughed out loud. ‘Do I play? You’re looking at the Hollandsy Bay Borstal chess champion, mate. Mind you, it was easy because most of them played it like draughts! I’ll get the board.’

  Benjamin’s voice sang out loud. ‘That pie smells the dog’s bollocks, Sadie. Can I have a lump when it’s cooked?’

  She grinned girlishly. ‘You’re such a bleeding greedy guts, how did your mother stand it?’

  Benjamin sucked his teeth. ‘My mother never cooked, Sade. All she ever did was go out with blokes. Said cooking was for mugs, which didn’t do a lot for me, I can tell you. I spent the first five years of my life living on tinned stews. Hate the fucking things now, I do. Go on, Sade let me have a lump. I like your cooking.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, all right then. I wish that Harrison hadn’t broken the video. I’d like to have taped this film.’

  The Winslow Boy had come on and Sadie was sitting with about six other men looking up at the TV, which was ten feet up the wall on a small shelf.

  Benjamin called out to Georgio: ‘Did you hear the one about the little boy who went into school and said, “Sorry I’m late, Miss, me dad got burned this morning.” And the teacher said, “How terrible, was he burned bad?” And the kid said, “They don’t fuck about down the Crematorium, Miss.”

  The whole place erupted into laughter again.

  ‘You’re mad, Dawes.’ Ricky’s voice was full of mirth.

  Benjamin shrugged, grinning childishly. ‘If you didn’t laugh you’d go mad, wouldn’t you? How about this one then . . .’ And he launched into another joke and once more everyone was laughing.

  Sadie’s voice was loud and bossy at the end of it.

  ‘If you don’t stop that noise, Benjamin Dawes, you won’t get no pie. I want to watch this film!’

  He hunched his shoulders and rolled his eyes, in a mock fearful expression. Everyone chuckled again.

  ‘I mean it, Dawes.’

  The smell of the baking pie was now very sweet in the rec room and Sadie was aware that before the pie was cooked she would be offered cigarettes, tea and coffee by men hoping for a slice.

  Chopper and Ricky still eyeballed one another, and the men still observed them. The conversation died down to a muted hum, and Georgio began his game of chess with Leroy.

  ‘There’s going to be trouble between them two and Lewis is not going to like it.’ Georgio’s voice was low.

  Leroy shrugged and took Georgio’s black pawn.

  ‘Let ’em get on with it. If Ricky needs an hand I’m here, like all the black contingent. Don’t lose any sleep over it, Georgio. Lewis may not come back. We don’t know what’s going on yet.’

  Georgio fretted. ‘And what if he does come back?’

  ‘Then we play it by ear. Now, will you concentrate on the game, please? I take my chess seriously. And don’t leave your queen wide open like you did when you was playing Lewis. I don’t mind losing.’

  Georgio gritted his teeth at the inference and made his move. Suddenly the air was split by the sound of a fire alarm going off. Looking up, Georgio smelt a faint whiff of burning. Sadie jumped from her seat.

  ‘Oh fuck it, me pie’s on its way out!’

  She rushed from the room, and everyone settled down once more as the noise of the alarm clanged through the Wing.

  ‘Turn that fucking thing off, we’re trying to concentrate! ’

  Leroy bellowed, his voice loud and harsh, but the alarm bell kept ringing. Then a denser smell permeated the room just as Sadie started screaming. Everyone was catapulted from their chairs in record time and the corridor was suddenly filled with men.

  Georgio realised for the first time that no screws were to be seen anywhere. Black billowing smoke was coming from the cell block. Before they got down there all the men knew what had happened.

  Timmy was burning like a Guy Fawkes dummy, lying on his bunk, not a movement from him. The stench of rubber was strong and another smell was evident. Georgio’s nose twitched as he tried to remember where he had smelt it before. Then his mind was taken over by what was on Timmy’s face. Someone had shoved a rubber mask over it, and the rubber was burning into the skin. Sadie was still screaming, out of control; Ricky slapped her face sharply to stop the noise.

  The corridor was quiet now, apart from the crackling sounds from Timmy’s body as it was engulfed in flames. Even the fire bell had stopped. His hands were on fire and twitching. Georgio realised that he was still alive but paralysed somehow.

  Running to the doors, he banged on them hard, shouting: ‘Get in here and bring the fucking fire extinguishers! He’s still alive! He’s still alive!’

  After what seemed an age, four screws came through the doors in riot gear, looking weirdly out of place. All the men stared at them in wonderment. They were armed.

  ‘Move back to your cells now! Come on, we don’t want no trouble from you.’

  The men looked at the screws then at each other.

  ‘Timmy’s burning, for fuck’s sake, you’ve got to get the medics.’

  ‘The sooner you get back in your cells, the sooner we’ll fetch the medics. Now MOVE!’ The last word was practically screamed at them and the men obeyed without thinking.

  The last Georgio saw before he returned to his cell was Timmy’s hands and feet, burning. Sadie was bundled into the cell behind him.

  Benjamin Dawes was calling out: ‘Oi, turn off Sadie’s rhubarb pie, won’t you, Mr Jackson? Don’t let that get burnt and all.’

  Georgio slumped down on the bottom bunk and put his head in his hands. He had to get out of this place.

  He had to get out.

  JoJo O’Neil was someone Donna knew she wouldn’t like the moment she clapped eyes on him.

  He was dressed in a blue silk Armani suit, with a white poloneck and Timberland boots. His hair was greased and slicked back, his teeth were bad and his skin sallow. His eyes looked as if they had seen too much and too soon for the rest of his body. He was loud-voiced with a thick Liverpool accent and he looked at Donna as if she was a piece of meat.

  ‘So, Alan, you arrived then - and this is Georgio’s old woman, is it?’ He poured himself a drink and stood before the fireplace as if the house was his and not Jack’s.

  Donna saw Alan look at the man with loathing, and she felt a prickle of fear.

  ‘Still nattily dressed, I see, JoJo. Where do you shop these days - the Oxfam shop or the Sally Army?’

  JoJo laughed mirthlessly and shook his head.

  ‘You’ve got a fucking nerve, Cox, coming here and asking the earth. When Jack told me what you wanted I nearly wet meself with laughter. You and Brunos are a pair of fucking scallys and the sooner you realise that the better.’

  Alan got up and Donna felt the tension thicken in the room. Jack went to rise from his seat and Alan pushed him back down as if he was nothing, no weight at all.

  ‘Don’t even think about it, Jack. I always carry insurance and you know that. Anything happens to me and about fifty blokes will be haring up the M1 like raving lunatics. Remember the nor
th-south divide, son, and keep yourself out of this.’

  He walked towards JoJo who was about the same height and build, but softer bodied, not hard-looking or trim.

  ‘I don’t like you, you’re a cunt, O’Neil, but you owe me and you owe Georgio. Now I’ve come to collect for the both of us.’ He looked at Jack. ‘I’m surprised you got into this business with him, mate, you being a family man and all. I’d have thought even you’d have balked at it. Now, as you both know, I killed a man for less than this ponce is doing at this very moment, and I swear an oath I’ll rip you limb from fucking limb if I get any more of your cheek, OK?’

  JoJo stood straight, his face a mask. Donna couldn’t even begin to guess what he was thinking. Then, without warning, the man smiled, a wide, cheerful, good-natured smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  ‘I looked after you when you got banged up, Alan. I don’t owe you fucking fuck all, mate. I made sure you was all right in nick, I saw to everything for you, but you had to do it in public, didn’t you? You couldn’t have waited for the Chinky ponce in a dark alley, oh no, not Alan Big Man Cox. You had to do it in front of everyone, even fucking tourists! I don’t owe you - you owe me mate. I kept my end of the bargain. I never tucked you up. We all lost a lot of sovs over you, mate, we lost a fortune.’

  Donna had no idea what they were talking about and her face showed her bewilderment.

  ‘You never sent me a fucking brass razoo in stir, boy, it was Georgio who watched out for me and my family. Georgio. He came up trumps for me while you done a fucking runner. You legged it so fast it’s a wonder they never asked you to run in the Commonwealth Games!’ Alan’s voice was now a fierce roar.

  ‘You owe me, you little turd. You’ll always owe me, because I killed a man you wanted out of the way. I was a convenient fall guy for you, and then I find out off of Georgio that you was hand in glove with the Chinese ponce. So don’t wind me up today, boy. I ain’t in the fucking mood! I never liked pimps or ponces, you should know that better than anyone!’

  Donna watched JoJo’s face as he visibly gritted his teeth, then spoke. ‘What do you want us to do though? If you’ve got the Jocks sorting it all out—’

  Alan interrupted him impatiently. ‘Don’t talk like a prat. You know I can’t be running up here morning, noon and night. I want you two to watch over everything from here. I also want you to sort out another safe house that doesn’t have my name or Georgio’s involved in its creation. You know what I need, O’Neil, you’ve done it enough times for others. Now you can use your expertise for me and Georgio - and let me give you one more warning. Brunos is into heavy stuff, heavier than you’d ever guess mate, so be careful. He has friends in strange places, old Georgio, and so do I. Be careful who you talk to, boys, because I’m like a fucking grasses’ heaven - they tell me everything. That’s why I’m here demanding and you’ve got to do what I ask.’

  JoJo tried to salvage some dignity.

  ‘OK, we’re in,’ he said. As if he had a choice in the matter.

  Alan shook his head. Looking at Jack he said, ‘How do you stand this prat, eh? Come on, Donna, we’ve done our bit. Let’s make a move.’

  She hastily picked up her bag and followed him to the door. Outside in the hallway Bethany stood clenching her fists. Donna could see the same fear mirrored in Bethany’s face as was on her own.

  Georgio lay on the floor of his cell listening to the soft snores of Sadie who had been given an injection by the medic. Chopper sat on the edge of his top bunk, a roll-up in his mouth.

  ‘I know what that smell was, Chopper,’ Georgio said suddenly. ‘It was tetrachloride! I remember it from when I was first in the building game. It was the only thing we could use to thin out rubber paint. Jesus, how the fuck did they get it in here?’

  Chopper shrugged. ‘In a flask - a soup Thermos or a hip-flask, of course. It’s a similar burning to one I witnessed in Durham. That was a child molester though. No one gave a fuck.’

  Georgio’s head was reeling with the sights he had witnessed. ‘How was he paralysed though? He was still alive - I saw him moving.’

  Chopper smiled slightly. ‘Nah, man, he wasn’t paralysed in that way. He had something pushed down his throat, probably a ping pong ball or an old sock. Then he was trussed up with chicken wire - you just couldn’t see it because of the burning, the smoke and that. Then the rubber mask was pulled over his face and the tolly was poured all over him. After a while they dropped a match on him and that’s when the smoke started. It’s a well-known trick in northern nicks.’

  Georgio felt the vomit rising in his stomach and took a deep breath. Chopper laughed louder this time.

  ‘You make me laugh, Brunos. Anyone can see you’ve never been in a nick before. You think this is bad, you should try some of the others, mate. You have to harden yourself up, get used to it all if you want to survive. That wasn’t as bad as some of the things I’ve witnessed. I’ve seen men have their wedding tackle removed and shoved in their mouth, then their lips sewn together with the thick needles and twine used in the workroom. You have to sort yourself out. I thought you was a hard man?’

  Georgio shook his head. ‘I am hard when I need to be, don’t you worry. But only an animal would countenance this. No human could order it.’

  ‘Well, at least we’re agreed on that one,’ Chopper sniggered. ‘Lewis is behind it as we both know and he is an animal, a subhuman arsehole, and he’ll be back before we know it. That little display today was for the benefit of you, me, everyone. Another way for Lewis to let us know he has a long arm.’

  ‘I could kill him myself.’

  ‘Now that’s the most sensible thing I’ve heard all night! Between us, me and you, we could kick that arsewipe off the face of the earth. Think about that, Brunos, instead of your Kentucky Fried friend. I’m going to sleep. There’ll be hell to pay in the morning while the guards question us and pretend they knew nothing at all about the events of today.’

  He lay back in his bunk and Georgio settled himself on the floor of the cell on the thin blanket.

  The smell of burning was still acrid and the faint stench of the tetrachloride pricked his nostrils. The thought of Timmy’s pain as the tolly burnt into him, and the rubber melted into his face, into his eyes and mouth, made Georgio feel sick to his stomach. Timmy didn’t deserve that.

  He hadn’t done anything worth that.

  As Chopper said, it was Lewis showing his strength once more, and the thought made Georgio see a dull red behind his lids.

  That bastard Lewis needed taking down a peg, and after Timmy’s maiming and Chopper’s words, Georgio thought he just might be the person to do it.

  He finally slept . . . and he dreamt about Timmy, Timmy’s wife, Timmy’s kids . . . and Sadie.

  He felt no better for the sleep, his dreams so vivid and disturbing. He finally vomited into the toilet bowl at four-thirty in the morning.

  He wasn’t sure but he could have sworn he heard a dull chuckle come from Chopper’s bunk.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  At four-fifteen in the morning, Alan pulled up outside his flat in Soho. He turned off the car engine and stared at Donna who was sleeping gently beside him. He watched her for a few moments in the muted light of a street lamp, her face sweet in repose, dark eyelashes casting long shadows across her cheeks. He put out a hand tentatively and placed it on her shoulder. Donna opened her eyes and smiled trustingly at him, then, memory returning, she sat up abruptly.

  ‘Where are we?’ Her voice was still full of sleep and Alan grinned in the half-light.

  ‘Outside my drum. We’re back in the Smoke. Come on, I’ll make you a coffee, then you can freshen up and drive yourself home.’

  Donna grabbed her bag and followed him into the tall building. Inside the flat, she was surprised to see it was almost too tidy. Even the telephone pad on the hall table was neatly placed alongside the phone with a pen and a pencil either side of it like a dinner setting. In the comfortable lounge she s
ank gratefully on to a well-upholstered blue silk sofa and closed her eyes. Sleep was still threatening to envelop her. She was both physically and emotionally exhausted. Alan looked at her with pity and put on the electric kettle for some coffee.

  ‘Why don’t you go and have a shower?’ he suggested. ‘Freshen up. I’ll bring in your case and you can get changed, eh?’

  Donna nodded gratefully. The journey from Liverpool had left her feeling a wreck.

  Five minutes later she was standing under a hot shower, letting the water cleanse her inside and out. As she picked up the bar of Lux and began to soap herself all over, it occurred to her that Alan had probably used it to do the same thing. The actions became almost lazy then. She breathed in deeply. The scent of him was everywhere, even the tang of his cigars was all around her. She closed her eyes and let the water run over her face, allowing it to wake her up, to give her back some of her energy.

  Finally, she soaped herself between her legs, luxuriating in the feeling. It had been too long since a man had touched her there . . . Drawing her fingers back as if they were burnt she hurriedly finished her shower and wrapped herself in a large white towel. Then, picking up a hand towel, she folded it like a turban around her head.

  Donna stared at her reflection in the mirror over the hand basin. She looked good, she knew that. Her skin was glowing from the hot water and her eyes were glittering like black diamonds. It was at times like this she missed Georgio more than ever. She had always been a healthy woman, and craved sex at times like other people craved chocolate. It was the only time she was truly connected to her husband. Breathing deeply, she turned from the mirror, pushing both Georgio’s face and Alan Cox’s out of her mind.

  Spotting a large black bathrobe hanging on the back of the door, she slipped it on, folding up the bath towel and replacing it over the heated towel rail. Her eyes scanned the bathroom to make sure everything was neat again and then she slipped out of the door. As she saw Alan standing in his bedroom she felt a flush creep up her neck and face, the heat making her feel faint with embarrassment.