Help Our Heroes: A Military Charity Anthology

by T. L. Wainwright

  “There’s a small bathroom through there,” Kathy says, pointing down the corridor. “It’s got a shower and everything. You can use anything you need. Not that...” She suddenly looks embarrassed, as though she’s afraid of offending me.

  I put a hand up to reassure her. “That’s great to hear. You wouldn’t believe how much I’d love a proper wash.”

  I grab my clothes and head in the direction she indicated. I’m glad I take my toothbrush everywhere, and can’t believe my luck when I see how well-stocked the tiny bathroom is, with soap, towels, and even shaving foam and disposable razors. It seems Joe must spend a lot of time back here in between dealing with the animals.

  “There are some spare clothes here if you need them,” Kathy shouts through the door, just as I’m about to climb into the shower.

  “Thanks.” I call back, grateful at the thought of not having to put my dirty gear back on afterwards.

  The hot water feels heavenly and I probably use a bit more shower gel and shampoo than I should have, but it’s such a relief to actually feel clean for a change. The fresh scent of the gel surrounds me and I don’t want to wash it off. My hair feels really greasy until I give it a good soak in the two-in-one shampoo and conditioner. I badly need a haircut and wonder when I’ll ever be able to afford such a luxury.

  Eventually, I emerge from the steamy shower and wrap a towel around me before scrubbing my teeth and having a shave. I haven’t felt so human in a long time.

  Kathy’s left a pile of clean clothes outside the door for me — even underwear. I assume it’s some stuff that Joe’s left in case he ever needs it, and it’s a bit tight on me but I’m not about to complain — it’s sheer luxury.

  “Wow — look at you!” Kathy’s eyes are wide as she stares at me and I’m sure I detect a note of approval in her voice.

  I feel great, like I could conquer the world right now. I’m fresh and clean and I’ve actually been useful for a change. I couldn’t ask for more. I even had a good night’s sleep and I don’t think I dreamt about anything other than the pretty girl who spent the entire time in my arms.

  I smile at her. “Thanks. You don’t think Joe’ll mind lending me his things, do you?”

  She shakes her head. “He’s got loads of stuff in his locker. He just keeps it there for emergencies — you never know when you’re going to get peed on or whatever in this job.” She giggles. “You suit green.” She’s nodding at the jumper I’m wearing.

  I roll my eyes. “It’s just as well. I wore enough of it in the Army.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...” She looks mortified that she’s upset me.

  “It’s fine,” I assure her. “I was lucky. Some of the guys looked hideous in their uniform but I always thought it brought out the colour of my eyes.” I grin.

  She stares up into my eyes, which are dark green. “They’re lovely,” she whispers.

  Warmth floods my whole stomach and I reach out for her, relieved that she walks straight into my arms. I gaze into her big, brown eyes before taking her lips in a lingering kiss. She kisses me back gently and meaningfully. My whole body feels like it’s floating as I hold her and carefully lap at her lips before probing my tongue into her mouth, exploring tentatively.

  We both gasp for air when we finally open our eyes again and take a step back, reluctantly pulling away from each other. I still have my arms around her soft frame, though. I don’t ever want to let go. Her smile tells me she feels the same and I sigh with relief.

  With a sudden shock she quickly puts her hand in front of her mouth. “Oh no. I haven’t cleaned my teeth!” She dives into the bathroom, while I chuckle at her cute embarrassment. It looks like she feels the same as me about dental hygiene.

  As I hear the water running I go back into the kitchen and make some more tea, sneaking a couple more chocolate Hobnobs while I’m there. I gaze out the window as the sun beams down on the frosty pavement. This time tomorrow I’ll be back out there, curled up in a doorway somewhere, feeling every bite of cold air surround me and permeate my bones. For now, though, I want to savour every second of feeling like a normal human being.

  Penny, the kennel maid arrives just after eight o’ clock and is delighted to hear that Lady had her pups earlier.

  “Trust me to miss all the fun!” She rushes into the back of the surgery to see the new arrivals and she and Kathy coo and swoon over the little creatures, who, to them, are the most beautiful things on God’s earth right now. I can’t help thinking they look naked and ugly, but, as I’m outnumbered, decide to keep quiet about my opinions.

  Joe arrives not long after that, and is also thrilled about the pups. He’s even more pleased to note that the electricity is back on and that the upstairs pipe’s all fixed.

  “You’re a handy bloke to have around,” he tells me, pulling out his wallet. “I told my brother about you and he’s got quite a bit lined up for you, if you still fancy some work? And if you don’t mind roughing it you can stay up in the flat while we get it renovated. Then I’m sure we’ll sort something out. What d’you think?”

  He grins, handing me a wad of notes. I can almost feel my jaw hit the floor as I take the money and stuff it into my back pocket without even counting it.

  “That’s a great idea!” Kathy jumps up, throws her arms around me and gives me a big peppermint-scented kiss on the cheek. “You’ve now got a job and somewhere to live!”

  I nod. It’s about all I can manage.

  “Great. Why don’t you guys go and get some breakfast and we’ll talk about it all later?”

  Joe doesn’t seem at all surprised at Kathy’s reaction and just smiles at us as we pull on our coats.

  Kathy grabs my hand as we stroll down past the river to a small cafe. Muttbags seems much more comfortable walking on that paw now, and I think the comfy night in the warmth must have helped with his healing, too. The smell of bacon welcomes us inside and we order the full English with extra toast. I don’t know why, but I’m starving this morning. It could be connected to my feeling so relaxed and happy, I suppose.

  I save some of my breakfast for the mutt, who’s waiting outside, drinking out of a water-bowl provided by the owners. It feels good to be able to pay for the meal, and I realise that Joe’s given me a hundred quid for the job.

  “Well, I’d best get back to work,” Kathy says, turning to go back the way we just came.

  “I’ll catch you up,” I tell her. “Muttbags needs a walk and I could use a barber.” I feel the need to smarten myself right up and now I’ve got some cash I’m determined to do just that.

  She reaches up and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. “Okay. There’s a place on Rosamund Street that Joe uses, if it’s any help?”

  “Thanks.”

  I watch her head back towards the surgery before going in the opposite direction. Rosamund Street is just the other side of the subway but I decide to go the long way around today. Not only because I don’t want any trouble from the fuckwad with the emaciated mongrel, but also to give me and Muttbags some exercise. It’s become our routine to have a good stroll first thing in the morning — at least, when he’s not suffering from an injured paw — and I’m keen to keep it up.

  As I walk down the street I feel like a totally different person. I’m clean. It makes such a difference. There’s a second-hand shop on the High Street and I pop in and buy myself a new coat. It’s not in bad condition and although it’s priced at a tenner I manage to haggle the price down to eight pounds. I’m well aware of how much every penny is worth and I’m not going to waste any of it. After transferring my toothbrush and paste into the inside pocket, I discard the old one in a bin outside. Catching sight of my reflection in a shop window, I grin.

  The barber’s shop isn’t too busy, and I leave Muttbags sniffing around the doorway while I head inside and take a seat. The guy acknowledges me and I pick up a magazine from the coffee table. A couple of guys next to me are talking about a football match, and some music’s warbli
ng in the background where the radio’s been left on.

  When it’s my turn the guy frowns at my hair. I’m glad I washed it this morning, but there’s no escaping the choppy way it’s been hacked at with razor blades while I’ve been on the streets.

  “It needs a good cut,” I tell the guy before he can comment.

  He nods and stares at me as though I’ve just made the understatement of the year. At least my face doesn’t look too bad, I note, staring at my reflection in the large mirror. I shaved it close to my skin but left a thin layer of stubble – after all, I didn’t want to overdo it.

  The old man squirts some fancy-smelling water on my hair and sets to with the scissors and a fine-toothed comb. By the time he’s finished there’s more hair on the floor than on my head, but it looks good. He seems surprised when he sees the wad of notes I pull out of my pocket to pay him with, and asks if I want to buy some weird-looking gel he’s got on the counter. Oddly enough, I decline the offer.

  Muttbags has no difficulty recognising me when I leave the shop, so I figure the change can’t have been all that drastic, and we head back for the surgery. My mind’s reeling about everything that’s happened over the past twenty-four hours and before I know it we’re heading down the subway.

  I realise all-too-late that the gang are down there, waiting at the far end, and they see me before I’ve got time to turn back.

  “What the fuck?” The one with the dog sneers at me and the others laugh.

  My blood starts to boil as they all square up to me and I wish I’d gone the other way. Muttbags barks at them and their mongrel yelps back. Shoppers hurry past, giving us all a wide berth, which makes me feel even more annoyed that I’m being tarred with the same brush as these delinquent shits.

  “Did you want something?” I sneer at the ring-leader as they all make an arc blocking our way.

  “Yeah. The money you stole from us.” His breath’s rancid and I hope mine was never that bad.

  Damn. There are four of them and although it doesn’t bother me so much, I don’t want Muttbags getting caught in the cross-fire. I’m tempted to pull a fiver from my pocket and just give it to them to shut them up, but even I know that won’t be the end of it. It’s just an excuse. Besides, why the fuck should I? I don’t owe them a bean.

  “I didn’t steal anything.” The argument’s just to buy me some time while I try to figure a way out of this mess.

  Out of the corner of my eye I see one of the gang pick up a plank of wood. That’s all I need. I suddenly regret buying my new coat – it’s about to get ruined.

  “You know exactly what you did, fucker and don’t you deny it!” The head honcho narrows his eyes at me, menacingly. I can well imagine he was the one that hit Kathy, and my jaw tenses at the thought.

  I nod towards his dog. “Your hound needs some help.” I was hoping to divert his attention but he’s having none of it.

  “So will yours when we’ve finished with it.” That wasn’t the response I wanted and the threat hits me like a brick.

  My fist rises with my anger and suddenly they’re all onto me, thumping and kicking like wild animals. I hear Muttbags bark in the midst of it all and I shout at him to get away. At first I thought he’d made a run for it, but as a foot comes flying into my face I notice one of the fuckers grab hold of him.

  “Leave him!” The black mist closes in on me and my fists flail, hitting whatever they can reach. I feel something wet run down my fingers and I hope it’s not my own blood.

  “Get the dog!” I recognise the voice of the ringleader and I want to kill him on the spot. Trust him to target a defenceless animal. He’s obviously realised he’s my Achilles heel, damn him!

  I hear a yelp, which fires me up even more and my feet and fists thrash out indiscriminately, maiming whoever and wherever I can. Pain sears my body but I can’t ascertain the exact location. Blood is flying through the air — I’m not sure whose — and the sounds of shouts and cursing echo in the murky walls of the underpass. A dog’s whining spurs me on and I dread to think what they’re doing to my poor pooch. I continue to smash whatever flesh I can lay my fists on, and I’m sure I hear the crack of a nose before an almighty yell.

  A woman’s voice screams, reverberating around the subway, and I see a familiar face at the mouth of the entrance, as blood runs over my eyes. I’m about to shout at her to get away from here, when there’s a sudden agonising burn across the back of my head and everything goes black and silent.

  Chapter 7

  I wake up in a hospital bed with the mother of all headaches. Even in my days of getting wasted on a Friday night I never felt anything this bad — and that’s saying something!

  “You’re back with us, then?” A nurse with a strong Welsh accent peers at me before shining a torch in my eyes. Fuck! “You had us worried for a while, there,” she goes on. “That was some hit you took.”

  I roll my eyes before realising how much that hurts.

  “The police want a word with you.” The woman never shuts up. “I’ll tell them they can come in now.” Oh deep joy!

  A couple of burly constables saunter in. They look bored stiff and I wonder how long I’ve been in here.

  “Good evening. Chris, isn’t it?” Well, that answers my question.

  I nod and immediately regret it when the pain ricochets through my head. “Yes. Chris Roberts.”

  “I’m PC Cage and this is PC Skinner,” the eldest one says. “Can you remember what happened to you?”

  I close my eyes momentarily. As if I’d ever forget! “The bastards tried to kill me,” I mutter. My thoughts suddenly turn to Muttbags and all that whimpering. “How’s my dog?” My heart thumps hard against my ribs as I fear the worst and I stare at them for what seems an eternity before the older one speaks again.

  “He’s been taken to St. Patricks, the vet by the river.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “We’re not sure. He was badly hurt.”

  “How badly?”

  He takes a deep breath. “They’re sorting him out. Good job one of them came by when they did.”

  “Kathy?” I groan, recalling her blood-curdling scream.

  PC Cage checks his notebook. “Yes. She came looking for you, apparently. Saw you in the middle of a brawl and called us. She was in a right state.”

  Oh God!

  “It wasn’t a brawl. They wanted to rob me.” I can just imagine how it must have looked to her.

  “You knew these guys, then?” Skinner’s found his voice.

  “Not by choice.”

  I go on to explain about my past two years living on the streets and the ongoing battle with the gang who seem to think they own half the subways in London. It transpires that the cops are well aware of the thugs, and were currently holding them all in the local cells. Kathy had identified the instigator as the bastard that hit her the other night; something the cops take a very dim view of. Their poor dog’s been taken to St. Patrick’s too, and I’m glad it couldn’t be in more caring hands.

  “Someone from the vet’s will drop by later to update you,” PC Cage promises when they eventually leave.

  I’m worried sick about Muttbags, and it’s doing nothing to help the pain in my head. I’m grateful when the nurse returns a short while later with a couple of painkillers and a glass of water. The doctor follows her in.

  “You’re a very lucky man.” The doctor, a grey-haired man who looks in need of a good night’s sleep, nods at me after looking at my notes. “We scanned your brain but there’s no swelling or anything. You had a fortunate escape.”

  “I’ve had a few of them,” I mutter. I can’t stop my snarky side escaping.

  He frowns. “You were in the Army, weren’t you?”

  I stare at him in surprise. Kathy must have been talking about me. I hope that means she doesn’t hate me. “Yes.”

  “Helmand Province?”

  I nod. I really should stop doing that – it kills my head.

  “You might kno
w Father Donnelly. He’s been out there a couple of times.”

  I gawp at him. “Yes.” I remember the little fat padre well. For a man of God he had a wicked sense of humour and spoke a lot of sense. I’ve never been the religious type but he never held that against me. He was just a really good laugh and great company. I don’t remember him ever spouting the Bible, though I suppose he must have done at some time.

  “I’ll get him to drop in on you if you like? He’ll be doing the rounds later.”

  My heart lightens at the prospect of seeing him again. I didn’t realise how constricted my chest had felt since I woke up, and I suspect it had more to do with Kathy than the fuckers who hit me. Hearing her scream like that, and knowing she must have thought I was nothing but a violent thug hurt me more than I’d care to admit.

  The doctor goes on to say that they’re keeping me in overnight for observation, since my head took such a battering, but he’s not overly worried. I can eat and drink — which is good as I’m starving, I realise — and he’s prescribed some stronger painkillers for tonight. I’ve never been one to pop pills, but I’ll make an exception if it helps ease this almighty throb in my head.

  Mercifully, the nurse isn’t half as chatty when the doctor’s around, and she scurries off to find me a sandwich as soon as he’s made his assessment.

  After my meal I must have fallen asleep for a short while, as I’m woken by light tapping on my door and a familiar face pokes his head around it.

  “Well, I thought you’d dropped off the edge of the earth,” Father Donnelly announces, that twinkle still in his eye.

  I sit up slowly. “Father? What the hell are you doing here?”

  He rolls his eyes in that familiar way he always did when we used to cuss in front of him, and saunters into the room.

  “I could ask you the same thing.” His broad Irish accent takes me back to happier times with my mates, and I feel a pang deep inside me.

  “How are you, mucker?” I ask, as he comes over and gives me a big hug. Even my dad never put as much meaning into a hug as this guy and I love him for it.