by M W Foolster
"You need help and I don't know anybody else. Trust me, babe. Would stake my life on her helping you out, especially when you explain it's for me. Whatever you decide to do, I will understand you know that? If you just want to make a run for it, like get the fuck out the country, I will understand, right?"
"Yer man, I know."
The cell door is suddenly flung open, bringing their conversation to an abrupt halt. Ron scurries into the cell, a concerned look on his face.
"Did he ask you?"
"Ask me?"
"To collect something?"
"Sorry, man, but I dunno that we should be talking about it."
"Diamonds, Gabriel, did he tell you to collect the diamonds?"
A stony expression on his face as he looks past Ron towards the door.
"It is my boys that are looking after them, Gabriel. When Ray got nicked, I got a call from the manager of his night club, Leon, and was told to collect and hide them cause the police would search the club. Stashed them under the floorboards at the pub, well, me and my brother. Please Gabriel, don't hurt my boys, or my brother. Please, swear that to me."
"For fuck sake, Ron, whad you take me for bro? Not even supposed to know where I am collecting the fuckin’ things from. Look, I owe you big time man, an’ I won't forget what you have done for me. Course I won't hurt them. You even gotta ask? Look, we didn't have this conversation but I give you my word that nobody is gonna get hurt, right?"
A screw appears at the cell door, keys jangling loudly in his hand, a stern expression on his face.
"Let’s be having you, Brown."
Gabriel notices the tears in Frenchy's eyes, but there’s no time for anymore goodbyes. Just a farewell nod to him, and Ron.
The mobile vibrating loudly on the kitchen worktop brings him back to his senses. Most likely Frenchy again, but now what? Finishes off the beer, squashes the aluminium can in his hand and lobs it towards the waste bin opposite the sofa. Watches as it bounces off the wall and drop in. Raises his hands in mock celebration, and shouts,
"Yessssss. Gabriel Brown has just executed a perfect bankshot and sent the crowd wild with excitement. Has that shot just won the basketball world cup for his team?"
Laughs aloud as he gets to his feet, stretches, yawns loudly, and heads towards the kitchen. But the text isn't from Frenchy. Gabriel feels his chest tightening, and his head spinning, as he reads through it. Just doesn't make any sense. How could she possibly know that he was out? Unless it was a lucky guess, because it’s not as though he'd kept in touch while he was locked up. But no, surely not, that doesn't make any sense, or does it? Before he's had time to think it through, sends his response to Selena
'Yes. Will meet you in the Comfort Zone at 2:30pm.'
20 Durrel’s Mob
Kevin grins to himself. Is now back in the bunker, at least, that’s what he tells himself, it’s actually the kitchen in the ground floor flat that he shares with his father. The room is scrubbed clean and reeking of bleach, as it must be every morning, because this is, after all, the most important room in army HQ. Sips water from a canteen and chews on a cereal bar. Desperately wants to pee but that will have to wait, he must remain disciplined at all times, because he is a soldier and he has his orders. That’s what the ‘Man’ calls him, Kevin the soldier, and this is his secret bunker. It’s why he wears the old army helmet he’d found buried at the bottom of a wardrobe and the trench coat bought many years previous from the army surplus shop; he must look the part. And he is now deep into enemy territory, so he needs to remain vigilant at all times. Watches as Gabriel walks along the communal balcony, zooms in with his prized binoculars; a gift from the Man. He rummages around inside the shoe box carefully placed in the empty sink, quickly removes the special phone with the camera, yet another gift from the Man.
“Big, bad, Gabriel. Always cruel to Kevin. Calling Kevin a dirty fucking trenchcoat. Always bully Kevin. But the Man, he said he would make sure no more. Would make Gabriel stop. Kevin would be safe. No more bullying me. Kevin could fire as many rats as he likes. Man even said he would give Kevin money. Money to buy BBQ. Kevin can BBQ rats. And Man had laughed really loudly and said, 'One with a Ratiserie.'”
Kevin stares up at the ceiling howling with laughter. Follows it up with a, “Whoop… Whoop.”
Stops abruptly. Looks back up at Gabriel, and forces himself to concentrate, talking aloud to himself.
“The letter. The Man made me read it many times. Kevin understands. Kevin not stupid. Sent the Man many photos. Photos of the three bullies in the blue car. And he never seen them again. Man made sure. Photos of the woman, but she not cruel to Kevin. Yes, photos of all the bullies. The Man will make them all go away. The Man promised.”
Kevin grins to himself on seeing that the mobile is still fully charged, but why wouldn’t it be? He is, after all, meticulous in following the routine as stipulated in the letter. Plugs the charger in every evening, is only to remove it when the green battery appears. Must repeat the same routine every night at 10pm.
“Kevin not stupid.”
He takes several more photos of Gabriel walking along the balcony to add to those he took the previous evening. The Man will be very pleased with him. He selects the photos individually and sends each of them with just the location, the date and the time in the text message field. As instructed in the letter.
“The Man, he Kevin’s friend. He not laugh at him or shout bad words at him. Kevin works for the Man. A brave soldier behind enemy lines the Man calls him. But Kevin is not to trust anybody, not even his own dad. Spies are everywhere. Must keep the secret or the bad men would come for him and hurt him. Kevin not stupid. Kevin know how to keep secret.”
The mobile whistles at him, indicating a text message has been received. Kevin reads it aloud,
“Good work. Follow him but be careful not to be seen. Keep the phone with you and keep sending the photos.”
Kevin grins wildly at the phone, “Whoop… Whoop.”
He leaps to his feet, twirling around in circles, his trailing coat clearing the nearby table of several plastic cups and a paper plate. Stops suddenly and stares at the floor, fist in his mouth, clearly distraught at seeing the mess he’s just created.
“What to do… What to do.”
Falls to his knees, plastic cups and plate scrunched up and carefully placed in the bin, pours some bleach on to a dish cloth and scrubs at the floor. A worried glance out of the window, can no longer see Gabriel though. With the mobile now carefully slipped into a huge pocket, poppers securely done up, he rushes into his bedroom. Cleanliness is not an issue in here. No bed, just a dirty mattress on the floor surrounded by dozens of boxes. But he knows the exact contents of every box in the room. He can barely contain himself, momentarily forgetting what he is looking for. Looks around the room looking for a reminder. Filthy net curtains hung from the window. A wardrobe, doors missing, long since emptied of clothing but stacked full of newspapers. The only other item of furniture in the room is a wooden rocking chair that he’d found on a skip several months back. Another prized possession.
“Whoop… Whoop… Kevin not stupid.”
He empties the contents of a wooden box onto the mattress. His eyes gleaming with anticipation, the excitement coursing through his veins. The final gift that the Man had given to him. With the roller skates on his feet in a matter of minutes, he skilfully skates down the hallway, and out the front door.
A hoodie disguising his appearance, Gabriel struggles to control his temper, the reluctant cab driver refusing to allow him into the cab unless he pays the fare in advance.
“Look man, ain’t like I will rip you off.”
The apprehensive cabbie looks around the estate. His thick rimmed black glasses now steaming up, removes his flat cap and shouts through the partially opened window.
“Like I said, mate, it’s twenty up front, or I’m outta here.”
Gabriel delves into his jean pocket, pulls out a wad of notes and slides the
£20 in through the top of the window. It’s snatched at immediately by the greedy, nicotine stained fingers of the cabbie. On seeing the driver taking his time as he inspects the note, a now very agitated Gabriel speaks through gritted teeth,
“So, you gonna let me in the car, or what?”
Door finally unlocked, Gabriel slips into the back of the car and pulls the hood down over his face. Has barely got the seat belt on when he finds himself being thrown forward, the cab driver having to slam his foot down hard on the brakes as a body suddenly cuts across in front of him. The driver leans out of the window, shouting
“What you doing, you crazy bastard?”
Still shaking his head in anger, he speaks to Gabriel over his shoulder,
“He got a bloody death wish, or what?”
Gabriel doesn’t bother replying, just watches as Trenchcoat travels at a ridiculously fast speed towards the estates main exit. On, of all things, roller skates. Knees bent, leant forward in a squatting position, and almost looking like a professional. Gabriel is actually impressed, so Trenchcoat is good at something then. Thinks that the cab driver is probably right though, the crazy fuck will probably get himself killed. He sees a few of his boys loitering around near the estate’s entrance as the cab drives towards it. They’re clearly identifiable by the orange scarves hanging from their belts and under different circumstances, he’d be amongst them, chatting and laughing. But he is relieved when the cabbie accelerates through the entrance, is probably scared that they’ll stop the car. Gabriel hopes that the now curious youths didn't recognise him. The last thing he needs right now is for Yassi and the others to discover that he’s been released early. He lets his mind wander as the cab heads toward Borrington High Street, the driver talking some crap about the City game, but he can’t be bothered to respond. The traffic is far heavier than he’d expected and the cab makes slow progress, not that he cares, would still be at least an hour early. The driver mumbles under his breath as he screeches down side roads, all familiar to Gabriel who knows the area like the back of his hand. But of course, they’d all look the same to an outsider, street after street full of red bricked and barely indistinguishable terraced houses. He's startled as the driver starts to bang on the steering wheel in frustration, having been brought to a stop by at least a dozen cars all attempting to get into the high street. Ten minutes later and growing increasingly irate, the driver finally forces his way out. Gabriel smiles at seeing the familiar shops that make up Borrington High Street. A sharp right along past the station, over the railway bridge and the driver pulls over next to the common.
“This alright for you, mate?”
“Yer, man, it will do.”
Barely has time to close the car door, let alone ask about the cost of the journey before the cab screeches off.
“YO! MY CHANGE!”
Kevin remains at a safe distance behind the cab, and is finding it relatively easy to keep pace with it because the traffic is slow moving. No time for photos though, he can do that later. Now leaning against a lamp post, he takes a rest at seeing the cab stuck behind several cars as it attempts to turn into the high street. A brief panic when the cab suddenly jolts forward and screeches its way out. Head down, muscles pumping, he ignores the blaring horn and the waving fist as he cuts straight across a bus and into Borrington High Street. Mounting the pavement opposite, he thinks that he catches a brief glimpse of the cab turning towards the railway bridge. Zooms past several shocked shoppers who barely have time to step aside, leap frogs the metal advertising sign outside a newsagents, and makes a perfect landing before taking the sharp right angle towards the bridge.
He’s gasping for air as he now approaches the common, but still feels a tingle of excitement just knowing that he’s so close to the landfill site, and all those rats. But he must concentrate, has his orders, must follow the bully Gabriel, he is, after all, a soldier working for The Man. And the Man will be pleased with him. He watches as the cab screeches to a stop, undoes the poppers and carefully removes the mobile phone from his pocket. Concealed behind a large oak tree, he hears Gabriel yelling at the cab driver before walking towards the café on the common. Photo taken. Still can’t resist a few sharp turns on the skates and several whispered,
“Whoop… Whoop.”
Sends the photo message, having typed, ‘Borrington Common, 1:45, 31st October’, into the text field.
He grins dementedly at the mobile as it whistles notification of a message received, 'Good Work, Soldier. Continue to monitor enemy. Keep me informed.' Mobile phone now back in his pocket, Kevin expertly performs a 360 spin on the spot and retreats to a safe distance.
Swearing under his breath, Gabriel stands waving his fist at the car, knows the cab driver has just cheated him. That short a journey should be what, £10 at most. Pulls the business card out of his pocket,
'Bert, Bert's Brother and Bert's Neighbour Cab Company'
He starts to dial the cab firm’s number, fully intending to report him. No way is he going to be ripped off by that miserly fool; but is suddenly distracted by a dog barking close by. A huge Alsatian bounds past him across the common, a harassed looking woman running after it, her high heeled boots churning up the grass as she shrieks at it to come back. He then spots the elderly couple sat at a wooden picnic table outside the café, Gabriel’s eyes drawn towards the cakes and hot drinks perched on the table in front of them. His stomach now rumbling, he decides that the cab firm can wait. A quick check of his watch, still got plenty of time to kill and so heads in their direction. And then he hears him.
“You good people,
I am a telling you.
The beast it a coming,
To devour all da fools.
Be a rain of fire,
An’ tears of blood.
The seas will all rise,
An’ then come da floods.
Will cleanse this here planet,
Of da sin an’ da filth.
Be da day of the comet,
And da new world begins.”
And then Gabriel sees them appear from behind the cedar trees. The Alsatian slides to an abrupt halt, the sight of Rufus all the encouragement it needs to return to its relieved owner. NostraTone blasting out his message from the yellow megaphone as he approaches the café. The elderly man leaps out of his seat in shock, throwing his cup of steaming tea into the air, and soaking the now shrieking owner of the Alsatian in the process. The dog’s owner gesticulates wildly with her hands before grabbing hold of him by the lapels of his jacket, and shaking him violently. The man looks to be apologising as he points towards NostraTone. His partner now pulling on her jacket as she reaches for her bag. But not to be deterred, NostraTone walks alongside the picket fence overlooking the café, and continues to preach his message to the three of them. Gabriel is peeved to see the wooden shutters suddenly coming down on the café. Having finally freed himself of the dog owner, who’s hurriedly walking in the opposite direction to NostraTone and Rufus, the elderly man looks to be in a desperate hurry as he struggles to pull on his Cossack hat, before stumbling through the wooden gate. Pushing at him forcefully in her haste to escape, his partner catches her duffle jacket on the wooden gate post, and is spun around in a semi-circle, her face smacking straight into the megaphone. NostraTone pauses momentarily, peers at her intensely over the top of it but decides that with her face stuck in the megaphone or not, he still has a message to relay to his audience. His rich voice is soon booming out again. The panicked woman screams and backs away, grabbing at the arm of her partner, and yanking him away from NostraTone. The couple attempt to ignore him as they hastily make their retreat, the elderly male’s walking stick leaving a trail of divots in the grass. NostraTone is still within several feet of them, and that’s how it remains as he follows them across the common, bellowing out his warning; Rufus wandering along beside him sniffing at the ground.
Gabriel sits munching on a cream cake, the café shutters having suddenly gone back up once NostraTone wa
s out of sight. Smiles to himself as he looks up at the flock of starlings descending from a clear blue sky towards the old cedar trees that line the rookery. Not something he'd have paid any attention to before prison but now, well, you just can't put a price on freedom. Enjoying the feel of the gentle autumn breeze on his face, he can't help but think about Frenchy and what he'd give to be sat here with him. Thinks back to that final conversation, to the promise he'd made. Yep, he'd go talk to the woman at Butner's bar, Cheryl, but how the hell he was supposed to go asking a complete stranger for help with the Durrell's is beyond him. But there's no denying that she is Frenchy's one true love. Would make a point of visiting her tomorrow. He pulls out his mobile and scrolls through the messages, reading through the text from Louise again.
‘Meet me in Comfort Zone at 2:30pm. Have missed you so much and I so love you xxx’
After six months of torturing himself, perhaps he’d finally get the answers he’d craved. Needs to have that peace of mind and if the truth be known, he is still in love with her too. His mind wanders, finds himself fantasising about her, at how they'd head back to his flat, rip each other clothes and spend the evening making love. Feels himself growing hard and chastises himself for acting like a testosterone charged schoolboy on a first date. Checks his watch, 2:05pm, decides to take a slow walk back to the high street.
Kevin keeps Gabriel in his sights whilst remaining at a discreet distance. He desperately wants to howl with laughter and whoop with delight, who's the master spy and who's a stupid fucking trenchcoat now? Kevin has to ram his fist into his mouth to stop himself from whooping. Photo taken, message typed, ‘Bridge leading to Borrington Train station. 2:15. 31st October.’ And sent.
Gabriel finds himself growing ever more nervous at the prospect of seeing her again. Has no idea what to say, or how he'll even act in her presence. All he does know is that he's desperate to feel her in his arms again. And yes, he needs answers but if the truth be known, he will forgive her almost anything. Turns into Borrington High Street, can see the Comfort Zone in the near distance. But he suddenly comes to a complete standstill.