by steve higgs
‘Exactly.’ Agreed Hilary. ‘That’s why I don’t want to see it. Real women don’t look like that, Ben. My wife is lovely but producing children has side effects. I am very content with what I have got. Most especially so recently.’ He added extra quietly. ‘And I don’t need to be reminded how she used to look a decade or more ago.’
Arjan chimed in with, ‘Hear, hear.’
‘I think that settles it, mate.’ Big Ben looked less than impressed. ‘No strippers.’ I concluded.
We went through the details of timing and transport to the venue. Hilary, Arjan and Aditya were all to collect others and would abstain from drinking until we’d arrived at the restaurant whereupon they would abandon their cars at my office, thus avoiding parking fees and we would all get taxis home when the drinking was done. There were twelve of us in total.
Jagjit, Tempest, Hilary, Basic, Big Ben, Arjan, Aditya, Rajesh, Vihann, Kit, Ross and a chap called Ian that I hadn’t met yet. Ian was a friend of Kit’s, an old school friend that was apparently a local fellow but short on friends. When I had first emailed the group, Kit said that Ian knew Jagjit and asked if he could come along. I wanted to say no but couldn’t come up with a reason to justify it and his inclusion made it an even dozen, a nice balanced number. So, he was coming as well. How he and Jagjit knew each other would become apparent tomorrow.
I got up and went to the bar calling, ‘My round.’ As I went. I had printed out an itinerary for the next day which provided all the relevant times and addresses, it was a belt and braces move because everyone had already joined a WhatsApp group and had a link to a cloud-based itinerary. It was also a bit nerdy, which Big Ben helpfully pointed out, but I had willingly accepted the burden of the task of best man and I was going to be good at it because I hated when people did things half-arsed.
The Landlord dutifully poured the drinks and I left him my card while I zeroed in on Hilary. He was already talking with Big Ben.
‘Good evening, Hilary. How is everything with you?’ I asked, shaking his hand cautiously. ‘How’s the shoulder?’
A week and a half ago his right shoulder had been dislocated in a life and death battle at my house. He had done it to himself but in doing so had saved both my life and Big Ben’s. We were both grateful, but it is not the sort of thing chaps talk about more than once. You thank the guy, then you move on, otherwise it becomes a big thing and is always there when you talk, hanging around in the background waiting for someone to bring it up.
‘It’s good actually. The doctors said the damage to my rotator cuff was minimal and I should expect to recover fully in eight to ten weeks.’
‘Good. That’s good.’ I replied. Then I got to the point I wanted to discuss. ‘You seem different. What’s going on?’
‘That’s what I said.’ Said Big Ben.
Hilary looked at him. ‘No, you didn’t, Ben. You said that I seem less totally gay than usual.’
That did sound more like something Big Ben would say. I brought Hilary’s attention back to me. ‘So, what is it then. You seem… deeply content.’ It was the best description I could come up with.
Hilary shrugged a sly shrug. ‘Let’s just say that things have changed at home. The little incident with the witch has altered the dynamic between Anthea and I for the better. I am feeling pretty good about life right now.’
Big Ben laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. ‘You mean you’ve been smacking that ass. Good for you, buddy.’
Hilary pursed his lips. ‘I do wish you wouldn’t talk about my wife like that.’ Then he smiled and brightened. ‘But yes, smacking that ass is pretty much what has been happening. Anthea was very remorseful about kicking me out, about treating me badly and about underestimating me. Somehow I went from loser to hero in just one act of madness.’
‘Maybe that’s all it takes.’ I nodded my approval. ‘Good for you, man. Oh, there are drinks at the bar for you guys.’ The landlord was signalling for me to enter my pin number. ‘I’ll get them.’
We chatted for a while, I made sure I talked to everyone and asked Kit about his friend Ian. He said he wasn’t sure himself how Ian knew Jagjit, only that he did, and that Ian had a job that made meeting people and making friends a little tough. I empathised, it had been tough making friends in the army. Once I had been promoted several times, there were few peers in any of the environments I would find myself in and everyone I saw on a daily basis had to call me boss or sir and had no desire to hang out with me socially. Except for Big Ben that is.
I checked my watch to see that I would need to get moving in a few minutes. Big Ben caught my eye from across the room, he was aware of the time too. We finished up our drinks, said a round of goodbyes and left the chaps with a promise to see them the next afternoon.
Cleaning Duties. Tuesday, November 22nd 2030hrs
Emptying the bins was a task that had to be completed every day and no one else wanted it at this time of year because it was dark and cold. Maybe in the summer months it was a more popular job, but for now we were assigned to it as the new boys and that suited us just fine despite the howling wind whipping around and between the buildings. The only other outdoor cleaning task was the road sweeper that went out each night to take care of discarded sweet wrappers, cigarette butts and any other detritus. That was driven by an old Ukrainian man who’s name I had heard but could neither say nor spell.
As the cleaners filed out, Big Ben and I went with them, collecting our supply of bags to refill the bins as we went.
Pasha had given us ninety minutes to get the job done. It was longer than we needed but not if we were going to sneak off to look for the map, it wasn’t. I had explained to Big Ben about the map when we met in the car park outside.
‘So, we just have to hope it is easy to find.’ Was the comment he had made upon hearing my second-hand description of where it should be located.
Now it was 2030hrs and we had dutifully pushed our wheelie bin through the Dockyard as far as the museum. There were no bins here, none outside anyway and there was a cleaning crew visible inside the museum. We could see them through the windows. They would be attending to the visitor areas though, not the back rooms where Big Ben and I were heading.
Glancing around to make sure we were not being observed, I slipped the key into the lock again, gripped the handle and gave the door a shove. The hinges squeaked once and then were silent. The door opened into a short corridor and a flight of stairs that ascended to the next floor. Like everything else in the Dockyard, the building was at least two-hundred-years old, so the staircase was wooden and would creak like mad if we attempted to ascend it.
Thankfully there should be no need to do so as the library should be beyond the door ahead of us with the archive and map room leading from it. We were at the far end of the building, well away from the cleaning crew in the tourist area, but caution dictated we move stealthily.
Big Ben closed the door to seal us inside, the noise of the wind dropping to almost nothing as he did. Neither of us would speak of it, but it was cold out – unpleasantly so, which meant the unheated room we were now in was gloriously warm compared with outside.
‘This door?’ Big Ben asked while rubbing his hands together.
‘It should be.’ I replied. He placed his hand on the handle, listened for a moment, then opened the door. There was darkness beyond.
‘It looks like a library.’ He said as he went into the room.
He wasn’t wrong. It reminded me of the Royal Navy Archive I had visited with my father in Plymouth a few weeks ago. The bookshelves were all ornate wood and stretched to the ceiling. The information contained within the pages could all be managed on a single hard drive now, yet there was a recognisable nostalgia in the books before me, many of which would be as old as the Dockyard itself.
There were three doors leading from the library if I didn’t include the one we had just come through. One would lead out of the library toward the visitor area. We didn’t want that one. Big Ben was aski
ng me which door we did want by pointing and shrugging.
I shrugged back. They were not labelled, so we would have to guess.
A shadow played across the room. There was someone outside. Big Ben and I froze. Nothing would give us away quicker than movement. It was movement that had alerted us to their presence. However, when a flashlight came on, its sharp beam drilling holes in the dark, I stepped into a shadow. They were shining it through the windows, but we were hidden from view.
Were they looking for us?
Big Ben had stepped behind a bookcase, I could see his eyes in the dim light coming into the room from outside. He glanced down and nodded, drawing my attention outside. I glanced, my movement furtive and small, not wanting to give myself away.
Outside were two ghosts.
Obviously, I need to caveat that statement though. What I could see outside were two security guards dressed as ghosts. They had on the ornate Royal Navy uniforms with the brocade running across the epaulettes and silver buckles on their shoes. That they were carrying flashlights gave the game away or would have if I had ever been convinced they were anything other than two dummies in costumes. The costumes had a frosted appearance to them. I couldn’t tell what it was at this distance, but it looked like flour. Poor Cedric would have a fit if he saw his priceless artefacts being abused like that.
As they moved away toward the end of the building we had entered, Big Ben said, ‘We better get moving.’ As he went for the nearest door.
It opened to a storeroom filled with boxes. The next door also opened into a storeroom, but this one was vast, its shelves and spaces filled with everything but books. There were uniforms, paintings, and boxes upon boxes of all shapes and sizes, each labelled to say what the box contained. Wooden wheels taken from ships, flags and pennants, and weapons. Lots and lots of weapons from old flintlock pistols, to swords and knives and everything in between. No cannons, I noted. Perhaps cannons were kept somewhere else.
‘I think this is it.’ I called quietly to Big Ben. I had found a door at the end of a pair of shelves that formed a corridor in the room. There might have been a label on the door, but in the dark, I just couldn’t see it.
Big Ben crossed the room. ‘I think those guards are in the building.’ He did not sound concerned about it. Knowing Big Ben, he was probably bored with all the sneaking about and ready for a fight. It worried me though. I was nowhere near to working out what was going on yet. Getting caught where we ought not to be would only get us fired and possibly prosecuted for attempted theft. A vision of CI Quinn’s gleeful face played in my head.
‘Let’s hurry then.’ I said as I pushed open the door. It was instantly clear we had found the chart room because there were charts everywhere. On shelves, on counter tops, pinned to the walls. Mostly they were rolled, and many were in containers – the long thin tubes designed to house and store such things.
‘Tell me you know how to find it, Tempest.’ Pleaded Big Ben.
Cedric had started by telling me that he didn’t know where the map was and that he hadn’t seen it in years but had changed his tune once he learned my plan. He knew precisely where it was and what it looked like. He had even drawn me a basic schematic of the room. I pulled the piece of paper with his drawing from my pocket now and held it to the light coming through a solitary window.
As I orientated myself to the room, a noise came from the archive we had just been in. The only way out of the room we were in was back the way we had come. The guards were blocking our exit. It must have been the wheelie bin that had tipped them off. We should have hidden it around the corner, not left it outside the door.
‘I’ll deal with them.’ Big Ben said, swinging a few practise punches as he went for the door.
I grabbed his shoulder. ‘Not yet.’ I needed us to stay under the radar. For now, at least. ‘Get the window open.’
He disapproved but he didn’t argue. I worked out where the map I wanted should be, prayed no one had moved it since Cedric was fired and started moving through the room. It was located on a high shelf above my head on the far wall. Safe inside a red cardboard tube, it was easy to spot but not so easy to reach. I wasn’t tall enough.
The sound of the guards talking was getting louder. They might spot the door leading into the chart room and walk through it at any moment. Quelling my rising panic, I looked around for something to stand on.
‘Here you go, short round.’ Said Big Ben as he reached up with one of his impossibly long arms to take the tube from the top shelf. ‘Can we go now?’ He asked with humorous faked impatience.
I slapped him in the ribs and went out the window to drop lightly to the cobbles below. We were in the lee of the building and in shadow, the dark working for us finally. I caught the map as he threw it and checked around while he lowered himself down and closed the window once more.
Then light filled the room we had just vacated as two guards spilled through it, their flashlights sending shafts of light to bounce off everything.
We hugged the wall, crouching beneath the window where we could not be seen. As the guards blundered about above us, I tapped Big Ben’s leg, it was time to go. The chance that they might open the window and look out was too great.
We gained the corner, stood up and went back to our cleaning duties as if we hadn’t just stolen a map to the underground lair of whatever was going on here. The tube containing the map went into one corner of the wheelie bin. I would have to work out what to do with it later. I couldn’t leave here with it tonight. It was four feet long, I hadn’t arrived with it and it looked like an ancient old artefact.
Any triumph I felt over finding the map and getting away was short lived though. A voice called out from behind us. ‘Where have you two been?’
It was Pasha. She was flanked by two more guards and they were all coming toward us, their pace fast and determined.
Thinking fast, I could not come up with a decent lie. As they closed the distance, the two guards dressed as ghosts that had been inside the museum rooms looking for us, came back out the door we had opened. All four guards could have been brothers, their silhouettes were so alike. Each had crew cut light brown hair and a blockish frame. Their uniforms barely fitted them, especially the two old Royal Navy uniforms which were stretched tight across enormous chests and thighs.
‘Well?’ She demanded. She had taken up position in front of us while the four men spread out to surround us. The two dressed as ghosts were behind us now. I turned to get a better look and decided that the frosted effect on the old uniform was indeed flour. I wasn’t going to be the one to tell Cedric.
Acting my way out seemed the only option. ‘We got cold and went inside to warm up for a bit.’
She said something in Ukrainian, smiling while she did it. The guards laughed to prove she had said something derogatory but the threat they posed did not diminish. The laughter left her eyes as she turned them back to me.
‘You have no place here. You should both quit.’
‘I need the job.’ Big Ben lied.
‘I don’t care.’ She spat back. ‘All you English are weak. Hiding from the cold like little children. Taking trips to the bathroom, always taking longer to get simple jobs done. I expected you to quit after last night.’
‘Why?’ I asked.
‘Because you saw one of the ghosts. No one else has stayed once they have seen the ghosts. They all ran away screaming like babies. Like little English babies.’
She paused, waiting for us to respond. When neither of us filled the silence, she pressed on. ‘You should quit now, and these gentlemen will escort you from the premises. It will be better for everyone.’
Stupidly, I decided to challenge her. ‘Do you have a copy of the company equality policy? Does it endorse your opinion that English should not be employed?’
Her eyes diverted to a point beyond my face as she nodded to one of the guards. Suddenly, my arms were grabbed from behind in a steel-like grip. I was fast to react, but hadn’t se
en the other guard moving in. The punch to my gut took the breath out of me, just as the same thing happened to Big Ben.
‘You hit like a girl.’ Said Big Ben as he straightened up. ‘Go on, have another go, see if you can add two punches together to make one good one.’
The guard sneered and belted in three more gut shots in quick succession.
‘Yes or no?’ Big Ben asked me. I understood the question. We could fight back right now. Big Ben wasn’t used to letting people hit him without then turning them into a bleeding mess. Despite the size of the guys holding him, I believed he would beat them both to a pulp. I might struggle with my two, but my concern was that once we had shown them what we were capable of, we would no longer be viewed as two weak English cleaners but as something far more dangerous. Dangerous things get treated differently, which in this case, might mean they just kill us.
‘No.’ I replied quietly.
They were not done with the gut shots though. Twice more they hit each of us. Gut shots because they don’t show up and there’s no blood or split lips or missing teeth to explain.
Gritting my teeth against the pain, I locked eyes with the man that had hit me. ‘I won’t forget your face.’ I promised.
He smiled and hit me again.
‘Feel like quitting yet?’ Pasha asked as the guards let us go and we slumped to the cobbles.
I put a hand to the cold cobbles as I started to get up. ‘Not even slightly.’
‘I need the job.’ Big Ben repeated his lie.
Pasha said something in Ukrainian again. Another joke as the four guards laughed, but the show was over. They were leaving us, and the map was still tucked safe inside the wheelie bin. They hadn’t even looked in it.
Pasha paused before she walked away. She had a final comment. ‘This is your last shift, boys. If you are here tomorrow, it will go badly for you.’
Big Ben gave me a hand to straighten up. Bruising to my abdomen was going to bother me for a few days.
‘Just tell me I get to beat the crap out of them later this week, Tempest.’