by Pat Young
Sheila sat as low in her seat as she could, hoping to keep out of Smeaton’s line of vision. She studied the back of his seat and concentrated on what she had to do.
‘How do you know my mother, Miss McNish?’ he asked, catching her off guard. Before she had time to answer, Ruby pitched in and all Violet had to do was murmur agreement here and there. That single question seemed to satisfy, either his curiosity, or his need to show polite interest. After that, to Sheila’s relief, he made no further attempt at conversation with her.
He was driving fast and the journey was going by quickly. ‘Lovely car,’ Violet remarked.
‘Thanks, I only got it yesterday. Bit of an impulse buy, really. It’s the new Merc. Top of the range. A tad over seventy-five grand, but I decided to treat myself. Because I’m worth it.’
Sheila assumed he was making a reference to the shampoo ad but decided not to laugh in case he was serious. Instead, she repeated, ‘Lovely.’ Suddenly she realised Joe and Marty would be expecting to see Smeaton’s previous car. Already the plan was going awry. She would need to find a way to tell them they were now looking for a Mercedes.
When they reached the junction with the signpost for the castle, Smeaton turned off the main road and slowed down a little. Sheila was grateful. She gave Ruby the coughing signal that meant she could choose any layby from now on, provided it was empty. Smeaton drove straight past the first one before Ruby could react. ‘Slow down, would you, Tommy? You’re making me feel car sick.’
‘The smell of new leather upholstery can be a bit overpowering.’
The next layby had two cars in it and at the third a minibus was loading youngsters in wheelchairs. ‘See that?’ said Smeaton, pointing. ‘That’s the ridiculous sort of outing I want stopped. What’s the sense in bussing kids like that to a place like this? Waste of public money. Austerity is the name of the game, and everyone’s got to play their part.’
Sheila bit her tongue. The man was reprehensible. She gave another cough to remind Ruby they needed to find a parking place soon. ‘Why don’t we pull in beside them?’ the old lady asked.
‘And eat our lunch with them all watching us? No chance.’
As they approached the next layby they could see a middle-aged couple at the bin, disposing of the remnants of a picnic. Sheila decided it was worth a try. She coughed and Ruby said, ‘What about here?’
Smeaton started to swing into the space then turned the wheel and stayed on the road. ‘No way. I’m not taking a brand new car onto rough ground like that. We’ll have to find somewhere else.’
Sheila did not know how many laybys bordered the road, but she knew the number wasn’t infinite. She was becoming more anxious by the minute.
Just as she was beginning to panic Smeaton found a layby with enough room for two cars and parked across it, taking up most of the space. ‘There you go, a nice view for you, and I don’t have to get my wheels mucky. Perfect.’ He patted his mother on the knee and said, ‘Will this do you, madam?’
‘I think so. What do you say, Violet? Nice?’
Ruby sounded a little unsure so Sheila said, ‘Lovely, thanks.’
‘Now, about that picnic. Would you mind going outside with it? I don’t want anything getting spilled on my new upholstery.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Tommy. It’s February in Scotland. Nobody gets out their car to eat.’
‘Mother,’ he said, his teeth gritted. ‘Remember what happened to my coat.’
‘Come on, Violet, ignore him. Let’s get these sandwiches open. I’ll have an eggie one. So will our Tommy.’
Smeaton didn’t argue. Sheila passed their sandwiches over on two plastic plates with two large thick paper napkins.
‘See, Tommy? Fancy serviettes.’ said Ruby, ‘Violet’s thought of everything. I’ll bet she’s even got your favourite juice. I told her you used to love Ribena. Ever since you were wee.’
‘Well, I prefer a nice Merlot these days.’ He laughed.
Violet joined in. It was Ruby’s birthday after all.
‘But Ribena will do nicely, thank you.’
Jeeso, thought Sheila, he actually sounds like a normal, decent human being.
She passed a sturdy red plastic tumbler to Ruby who took a few noisy slurps.
Smeaton steadied her hand. ‘Careful, Mother,’ he warned.
‘By Jings, I was needing that,’ said Ruby. ‘I was thirsty.’
Sheila carefully handed a bright blue beaker over to Smeaton. ‘Ribena?’ she said.
‘Thanks, Miss McNish. Haven’t had this stuff for ages.’ He took several swallows. Sheila tried not to watch but found herself holding her breath until he gave a burp, excused himself and said, ‘That makes me feel about five years old. Funny how things never taste as good as you remember them though.’
Sheila’s stomach clenched. Did he detect something wrong with the juice?
He took another drink and said, ‘Delicious, mind you. And more refreshing than Merlot, I’ll give you that.’
Sheila laughed at his joke as she passed more sandwiches through the space between the front seats. ‘Eat up, Ruby dear,’ she said, ‘Birthday treat.’
Sheila checked her watch. About twenty minutes to wait. She reached into her handbag and texted ‘dark blue Mercedes layby five’. All she had to do now was act normal, try to stay calm and wait.
Ruby kept a conversation going with her son all the time they were eating. Violet was rarely required to contribute. Smeaton ate with gusto, accepting everything that was passed from the back seat. He drained his beaker of juice and asked for more. He complimented the food, especially the home-baking.
When his mother asked him a question about his work, the answer kept him bragging away for some minutes. Sheila noticed a slight slurring of his words. Had Ruby heard it too? Smeaton continued to crow, boasting about budget cuts he’d made and staff he’d got rid of.
Suddenly he stopped talking. A moment later, he announced, almost incoherently, that he was feeling hot and needed fresh air.
Ruby grabbed him and said, ‘Give your old mother a birthday hug, Tommy.’ Despite his protests she hugged him to her and within moments his head dropped onto his chest.
‘He’s unconscious,’ said Sheila. ‘Thank God for that.’
‘Will he remember any of this?’ asked Ruby, pushing her son back over to his own side of the car.
‘Not if the drug does its stuff. He’ll wake up at the bothy without a clue. Won’t know where he is or how he got there. Scary, isn’t it?’
‘Is this the stuff you hear about wee lassies drinking by accident, then they wake up in the morning and they’ve been raped?’
‘That’s right, Ruby. Can you imagine anything worse?’
‘It’s a terrible world we live in, Violet. Times were hard when I was young but they were nicer, more innocent.’
‘I think you’re probably right, Ruby. You wouldn’t believe how easy it was to get this stuff on the internet.’
‘That internet has a lot to answer for, if you ask me. Right, what happens next?’
‘I just need to make one quick phone call.’ Violet made the call and had just started to tell Ruby what would happen next, when Joe’s old Land Rover bumped its way up onto the grass alongside.
Joe jumped out and opened Tommy’s door. ‘Hello Ruby,’ he said, ‘Thanks for your help.’ He leaned in, eased his hands under Smeaton’s arms and pulled the man towards him. When Smeaton slumped over, Joe locked his hands in front of Smeaton’s chest and heaved his torso clear of the car. ‘Get his feet, Marty.’
Marty grabbed Smeaton’s ankles and sagged under the weight. ‘He’s too heavy. I can’t lift him.’
Sheila said, ‘Wait, I’ll help.’ She climbed out and took hold of one of Smeaton’s legs.
‘Mind his good camel coat,’ called Ruby.
As the three of them edged away from the car, Marty said, ‘He looks lighter than this.’
Before Sheila could agree, Ruby shouted, ‘Quick! Somebody’s coming.’
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‘Put him down!’ said Joe. ‘Now hide!’
The three of them ducked behind the car. Sheila prayed under her breath. She could hear Marty taking deep breaths, as if trying to stay calm.
The sound of a vehicle grew louder as it laboured up the hill beyond the bend.
‘Please, please, please,’ Sheila whispered. She peeped over the bonnet of the Mercedes in time to see the minibus of wheelchair kids pass. Everyone on board seemed to be looking over at the loch, except one kid who pointed at Sheila before the bus disappeared round the next bend.
‘Right, no time to waste,’ said Joe. ‘Let’s get him loaded.’
‘With a final heave they settled Smeaton in the back of the Land Rover and Joe threw a blanket over him.
‘Watch you don’t smother him,’ said Ruby.
‘Don’t you worry,’ said Marty. ‘We’ll look after him. You okay, Miss McNish?’
‘Come on, Marty. Get in,’ shouted Joe. ‘See you later, Sheila. Bye, Ruby.’
The jeep’s engine revved, it bounced over the grass and disappeared up the road in a cloud of black smoke.
Sheila quickly cleared up the remains of their picnic, babbling nervously all the while. ‘I’m not cut out for a life of crime, Ruby,’ she said, opening a bottle of water to rinse the beakers. With their rubbish pushed to the bottom of the bin, she got into the driver’s seat.
‘Ever driven a posh car like this, Violet?’
‘Never, but how much different can it be from my wee old Nissan Micra?’
Half a mile down the road, she laughed out loud and said, ‘Ruby, I was wrong. This thing is nothing like a Nissan Micra. It’s a dream to drive. Do you think there’s a chance your Tommy might forget he ever bought this car?’
‘Why?’ asked Ruby, ‘are you thinking of stealing it?’
‘Not stealing, Ruby,’ she said in an indignant voice. ‘More of a swap. I’d leave him my Micra in exchange.’
‘Fair enough.’
A few miles passed in silence. Ruby seemed to be enjoying the rugged hills when suddenly she said, ‘Do you think our Tommy will be alright?’
***
CHAPTER 56
‘Oh no, what now?’ Joe pointed up the track to three figures in matching waterproof gear.
‘Is it the police?’ asked Marty, panicky.
‘No. It’s my lads. I borrowed those jackets from the bothy for them to wear to Arran. Forgot to return them, you might say.’
‘What the hell are they doing up here?’
‘We’re going to have to find out. We can’t wait here till they disappear but I can’t just drive on either.’
‘This could screw things up for us. We have to get Smeaton inside long before he wakes up.’
‘I’ll deal with it. You crouch down in the foot well and I’ll cover you with this blanket. We don’t want them spotting you.’
He rolled down his window and leaned out. The boys heard the engine and turned to check out the approaching vehicle. When they saw it was Joe, their faces lit up.
‘It’s the big man. Awright, Big Man?’
‘Not bad,’ said Joe. He pointed to Slug and said to him, ‘I mistook you for TJ walking up the road there. You’re looking fantastic.’
Slug beamed from ear to ear. ‘I’ve nearly lost two stone since I started, Sur. Another one and a half to go. If I lose that and keep improving my fitness, the army say they’ll take me. TJ’s in already. He went to Catterick last week for his training. He says it’s minted.’
Joe smiled at the news. The boy had got away. In every sense of the word.
‘That’s amazing. Good luck to him, and you, Slug. What about you, Dykesy?’
‘The army’s no for me. I’m for the college. Just heard yesterday. Got a place down in England, starting in August.’
‘Good for you, mate.’
Before Joe could ask him, Dangermoose said, ‘I’m still a loser, Sur. Still on the dole, still on the dope. But I’m happy.’
‘What about Liam?’
‘Aye, he’s okay. Daft as ever.’
‘And Jimbo? How’s he doing?’
‘They had to switch off his life support,’ said Slug, swiping a hand across his eyes. ‘That’s why we’re here.’
Dykesy removed a carrier bag from inside his jacket and peeled back the plastic to reveal a cardboard tube. ‘This is Jimbo’s ashes, Sur. We got them off his mammy’s mantelpiece.’
‘You stole them?’
‘His mammy’s fine wi it, honest. We’re going to scatter him up on the hill where he can see the loch. Want to come, Sur? Ah think Jimbo would like the Big Man at his scattering.’
Joe made up his mind fast. ‘Tell you what, boys, I’d love that. I’ll even say a few words, if you like, but I’ve got something I need to drop off at the bothy first. You walk on and I’ll catch you in, say, ten minutes?’
Dykesy tucked the carrier bag back inside his jacket. ‘Nae probs.’
Joe put the Land Rover into gear and drove off.
‘How do you get out of this one?’ murmured Marty from beneath the blanket. ‘Won’t they be suspicious?’
‘That’s a risk we’ll have to take. Jimbo was a good lad.’
‘What happened to him, Joe?’
‘The usual. A life ruined by drugs became unliveable and the boy decided to put an end to it.’
Joe drove the Land Rover right up to the back of the bothy and, with a lot of grunting from Marty, they heaved Smeaton into the special place they’d created for him. Marty told Joe to go hide the jeep and join his boys, assuring him she would make a start on Smeaton.
Joe left her to it, promising to be back as soon as he could. As he stepped out the door he almost walked into Dykesy.
‘Do ye want a hand, Sur? We’re no in any hurry.’
Joe pulled the door closed, hoping they hadn’t been able to see inside or hear Marty talking. ‘No, you’re alright, but thanks anyway.’
‘Could we get a wee look inside, Sur? Like, for old times?’
Dangermoose said, ‘Tell the Big Man the truth, Dykesy. We were planning tae break in.’
‘Shut it, Danger.’ Dykesy looked Joe in the eye, hesitated then said, ‘Aye, aw right. We were, but no to do any damage, just to have a look round.’
Joe’s heart was beating too fast to be healthy. He put his hand over it and said, ‘Trust me, lads, there’s not a thing to see. It’s been stripped bare, I’m here to finish off the job. You’re far better remembering the place as it was.’
‘The Big Man’s right,’ said Dykesy. ‘It was a daft idea. Come on, boys, let’s go. It’s time to scatter Jimbo.’
As the little funeral party made its way up towards the hills, Joe contemplated the scenario had the boys broken in. Then, while they walked in unaccustomed silence, he turned his mind to an appropriate eulogy for Jimbo.
When Joe came back, Marty let out a long low whistle. ‘That could have been tricky.’
‘Yeah, imagine if they’d walked in on us.’
‘I felt sorry for them, grieving for their pal. And I’m sorry for you too. I sense you liked Jimbo.’
‘I did. He’s exactly the kind of kid this place might have saved, given a chance.’ Joe found it hard to say any more and Marty seemed to sense it was time to move on.
‘Right, well, thank god you’re here.’ She looked around the dark prison they’d created. ‘This place was giving me the creeps. Imagine me, getting trapped in here with him. Talk about worst nightmares?’
Joe didn’t laugh. Just said, ‘Let’s get him organized. We don’t want him regaining consciousness before we’re ready.’
‘Imagine if he came to and recognized us.’ Marty gave a giggle that betrayed her nerves. ‘Are you sure all of this will be erased from his memory, the picnic with Sheila, the drive here?’
‘If the drug works as it’s supposed to.’
Together they knelt and started to remove Smeaton’s clothing. Marty had already taken off his shoes and socks. As they p
ulled his sweater over his head, Marty said, ‘You must be sad about that boy?’
‘Sad, Marty? I’m not only sad. I’m mad!’ He roared the word and grabbed Smeaton by the throat. ‘I want to kill this bastard, with my own hands.’
‘No! Let him go, Joe.’ Marty grabbed at his fingers, pulled them away from Smeaton’s neck. ‘That’s not the way. We agreed.’
Joe got to his feet and walked away, almost disappearing into the darkness. Marty could hear him crying, in that harsh violent way a man weeps. ‘These are good kids, Marty.’ He sounded as if his heart was breaking.
‘I know they are, Joe, I know. Come on,’ she said, gently, ‘let’s get this done and get out of here.
When Smeaton was down to his underpants, Joe took a step back and said, ‘Look, is this last bit really necessary? I don’t feel comfortable with the idea of stripping him naked.’
‘I don’t fancy it much myself,’ said Marty, ‘but it’s important. Think about it. We come into the world naked and we go out of the world naked.’
‘It still seems wrong.’
‘It would be more wrong to ruin the whole thing because we’re too squeamish to take his knickers off. He’s not daft. If he wakes up wearing his Y-fronts while everything else has gone, he’ll be much harder to convince. We’re sticking to the plan, Joe. End of story.’
Relieved of his underwear, Smeaton was left in the centre of the floor in the recovery position. Joe straightened up and looked around. A small stone trough stood to one side. Otherwise, nothing.
‘You and Sheila have done a brilliant job, Joe. It’s incredible how you’ve transformed the place.’
‘Thanks. I hope it has the effect we want.’
‘I’m sure it will. You’re certain he won’t be able to get out?’
‘Absolutely certain. He won’t get out until we carry him out. Not unless he digs a tunnel and there’s no chance of that. Under this stone is soil, so hard packed it’s like concrete. He’s here to stay. Come on, let’s go and get a cuppa. I’m freezing.’
‘Don’t forget his clothes,’ said Marty. ‘If you stick them in the back of the Landy I’ll make us a cuppa.’