The noise of someone approaching came from the corridor, and he jumped up and closed the safe door with his heel, his heart racing. A young blonde cleaner, from Eastern Europe, popped her head through the doorway.
‘I clean?’ she asked.
‘No. It’s okay. Please come back later,’ he said.
She smiled and left. Gibbs quickly grabbed all the cash from the till trays and the rest of the loose change from the safe. There were three salary envelopes stacked on the shelf. He grabbed them too and stuffed them into the pocket of his jeans before walking out the office.
A few metres down the corridor, he stopped. A nagging feeling caused nausea in his stomach. Returning to the office, he placed the salary envelopes on the office desk. Pulling the door closed behind him, he made his way out of his father’s office.
A smile crept across his face as the cold morning air filled his lungs. He walked up the wet cobblestoned walkway alongside to the pub and dumped the set of keys into one of the dustbins. Calmness washed over him.
At that instant, a fresh breeze blew off the sea and up the narrow side street, and he turned to look back at the black slate roof of the pub. The place where he had spent his whole life, always wanting to leave. With a spring in his step, he continued up the hill.
He could see Jaime standing at the bus stop at the top of the street and picked up his pace. ‘Where are your bags, mate? The bus is nearly here, and the next one is in an hour’ Gibbs asked when he reached the stop.
‘I’m sorry, Gibbs, I can’t do this,’ his friend said. ‘I can’t go with you on this adventure.’
‘What…? What do you mean, you can’t come? What the hell happened?’ Gibbs said, looking at his friend who was almost in tears.
‘I went to say goodbye to my little brother, and I realised that couldn’t leave him behind. I don’t mind leaving my parents, but I cannot leave Angus. I’m sorry, Gibbs. I know we swore a blood pact.’
‘And you’re going to break it?’
‘Maybe you can hold out here a little while longer. We could speak to the social, and then you can come and live with us. There wouldn’t be any more beatings there.’
‘You know it doesn’t work like that,’ Gibbs said, looking away. He lowered his backpack, and a sharp pain from his injured ribs spiked all the way up the side of his body. He looked at Jaime. ‘He nearly killed me last night, mate. One of us will eventually kill the other if I don’t end this now.’
The little red county bus pulled up with a screech of its brakes and a whoosh of the opening door. A little sign with the yellow neon letters, Aberdeen, was on a screen next to the door. Gibbs gave his friend a quick hug then climbed the stairs. Turning back, he said to Jaime. ‘Don’t go getting any ideas about Kelly now. She’s too tall for you, squirt.’
He smiled at his friend, who was crying. Then he walked down the centre of the bus.
Gibbs sat down next to an elderly woman at the back of the vehicle and stared at his friend through the window as the bus slowly pulled off. He felt hollow, afraid, and suddenly very small in the big world. He wrapped his arms around the backpack on his lap.
‘So are you off to Aberdeen, then?’ she asked.
Gibbs looked into her kind eyes and simply nodded.
‘You have quite a few bruises and cuts all over your face. Is everything okay?’
‘Got them in a fight with a few boys at school but it’s all sorted now,’ he replied, using his rehearsed answer. He shifted in his seat and grimaced with pain as his ribs bumped against the seat armrest.
‘You look in a lot of pain, young man. Are you hurt anywhere else?’ she asked. ‘I work for social welfare in Aberdeen, so you know that you can talk to me. Do you have any problems at home?’
‘There is nothing wrong, ma’am. A few of us were messing around, and it all got a little out of hand. Nothing more to talk about.’
’Okay then, son. I’m just saying that I can help. You don’t need to hide anything from me.’
‘I’m not hiding anything. We were just messing around, that’s all. And before you ask, I’m not going to give you my name,’ Gibbs said.
‘Okay, but all I see in front of me is a young teenager, beaten and bruised, on an early bus out of a town with a large backpack. You seem to be running away from something, and it’s my job to make sure that folk like you don’t end up alone on the street, sleeping rough. What else would you have me do?’
‘Mind your own damn business. I have family in Aberdeen, who I’ll be staying with.’
Gibbs got up and moved towards the front of the bus. He sensed the woman following him and before he sat down, turned and glared at her. She handed him her business card and gave him a sad smile. ‘Here lad. Just in case.’
As the golden light broke through a large bank of grey cloud, the bus crossed the River Dee and turned in towards the Aberdeen station.
He was first to get off and walked through the busy station, weaving between the early-morning businessmen. He tried not to look back as he could sense the lady was following him, and he headed down a small passage to the left of the main station entrance. Once he cleared that, he broke into a jog and ran as fast as he could to a street corner alongside the station.
A quick glance over his shoulder told him he’d lost her, and he pulled out a map from his pocket. The hostel he and Jaime had planned to stay at was just around the corner. All around him loomed ageing granite buildings that surrounded the large terminus. The feeling of loneliness came over him again.
• • •
The next day he was woken up in the dormitory by six noisy Australians who’d just checked in for the weekend, and he welcomed the company. It was his fifteenth birthday.
‘No kidding. Is it your birthday, mate?’ one of the girls asked. ‘How old are you?’
‘I'm eighteen,’ he lied.
‘No way!’ one of the blokes replied. ‘Well, in that case, you’d better come with us on a bit of a pub crawl.’
The group seemed outgoing and very welcoming. ‘Yeah, that sounds great.’
‘You know your way around Aberdeen?’ the young Australian asked.
‘Not really. I'm from out of town.’
‘No worries,’ the bloke said. ‘We'll just hit the high street and take it from there.’
One of the young women named Becky took an immediate interest in Gibbs and made sure she sat next to him at most of the pubs they visited. She looked like Kelly, and he felt at ease with her as they laughed and played drinking games
• • •
‘Do you have a girlfriend, Gibbs?’ she asked. ‘Someone like you must surely have one.’
Gibbs thought of Kelly for a moment. ‘No, there’s no one.’
‘Nice to know,’ she said and winked at him. ‘Now, what is our birthday boy having to drink?’
‘Another lager, please,’ he stammered, unable to take his eyes off her.
He watched the slim brunette as she stood at the bar, his eyes transfixed on her curvy body. One of the other girls said to him. ‘You should tell her that you fancy her. She’s always keen for a bit of fun.’
Gibbs swallowed hard and blushed.
They made it back to the hostel carrying takeaway meals of various types and got stuck into the leftover beers. Becky had perched herself next to Gibbs, and before he could make his move, she leant closer to him. ‘Do you have a condom with you?’ she whispered in his ear.
The fifteen-year-old nearly spat out a mouthful of food. ‘No, not on me right now.’
She would not be deterred and whispered something to a female friend who was sitting next to her. The other woman burst out laughing and set about rummaging in a nearby bag until she produced the required item. Becky grabbed a blushing Gibbs by the hand and marched him off to the bathroom, accompanied by wolf whistles from the group.
• • •
Gibbs looked up at the clear morning sky and felt truly alive after the night he’d just had. Leaving the hostel early, he sto
pped in at a greasy burger joint for breakfast and coffee, all to cure the hangover. He sat on the red plastic seating and tried not to gag on the smell of vomit, which some late-night reveller had deposited in the doorway. He wondered what Jaime was doing at that moment. And what about his father? Had he even realised that he had left?
A few minutes later, the welcoming smell of grilled bacon wafted across the early morning diners and distracted him away from thoughts of home. The right decision had been made, and now he had to move forward.
He reckoned that he could make something of himself in this adult world, after all, adults did it all the time. After sleeping with Becky, he now considered himself to be a man. A man who needed a job. He wolfed down his breakfast muffin and strutted down to the docks. A renewed surge of optimism flowed through him.
Three large fishing trawlers had come into port earlier that morning and were all moored at various piers. Tall, gangly cranes manoeuvred wooden crates of smelly fish from below the decks, up onto the quayside. He took a deep breath and went off to see the first skipper he could find.
An hour later, his world had been crushed. All three skippers of the trawlers had told him that they had no vacancies. The last skipper was the nicest of them.
‘Come back at the end of the season, laddie,’ said the kind-hearted man. ‘You look nice and strong, and we might have a slot open for a junior person then.’
‘How about if I just do all the cleaning, sir?’ Gibbs replied.
‘Sorry, laddie. The crew do that anyway. See you next year.’
Gibbs started back to the hostel feeling more dejected than ever. He’d have to get another job in the city, and, given his age, that would be tough. Shouting and screaming drifted down the pier he was walking down and it snapped him out of his despair.
‘You’re the one who fucked up, Barry, and it cost us all a shitload of money. I’ve decided that you’ll only get minimum wage and no bonus. If you don’t like that offer, consider yourself fired without pay,’ the old skipper shouted as he faced one of his crewmembers.
Gibbs recognised the skipper from one of his earlier conversations. He was about to walk off when more insults were thrown, and the man named Barry punched the older man who went down onto the concrete pier. The crewmember then set about viciously kicking him.
Gibbs ran over, picked up a large wooden crate, and smashed it over Barry’s head. He staggered forward for a few steps before dropping to his knees, looking up with a confused expression. Gibbs punched him in the mouth, snapping his head backwards and then continued to swing his fists at the man, who raised his arms feebly to try to defend himself.
The skipper grabbed Gibbs by the shoulders, pulling him back. ‘Whoa there, laddie.’
Gibbs, who was gasping heavily, stopped and stared down at the bleeding man.
‘Okay, young fella. Take a few long deep breaths and calm down. I think he has had enough of a whipping,’ the skipper said as they slowly walked along the concrete pier.
‘Thanks for coming to my rescue, son. Much appreciated. Aren’t you the kid who asked me for work earlier on?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Gibbs said.
‘How old are you, lad?’ the skipper asked.
‘Eighteen, sir.’
The skipper scratched his white beard and raised an eyebrow. Then he slapped Gibbs on the back. ‘Sure you are, lad. Well, I’m one crewmember short now, so the jobs yours if you still want it.’
Chapter 6
The fishing trawler, The Kings Cross 7, North Sea—2005
The amber lights on the upper decking of the Kings Cross 7 fishing trawler created a sinister atmosphere as she battled her way through the force nine gale that was blowing down from the Arctic. The icy spray whipped across the deck as the ship rolled from side to side atop the growing waves. The skipper had the nets out as they chased a huge school of mackerel, which were headed in a northerly direction. Straight towards the centre of the storm.
Gibbs swayed and staggered on the slippery deck as he made his way forward to the bow of the ship. The gusting spray stung his face even though he had the hood of his waterproofs up. He tried to shield his face with his hand as he looked around for his bunkmate on the bow deck. Through the rain, he saw the teenager, whose name was Ross, in his bright orange overalls, twenty metres further along the deck.
Gibbs grabbed hold onto the ladder railing as the trawler lurched to the port side again. With the wind whipping around the ship and visibly getting stronger, the waves crashed over the side railings, sending tons of seawater across the deck. A few seconds later a giant wave hit the side of the trawler. Gibbs screamed a warning at the top of his voice, but his bunkmate, who was busy tying up errant ropes, was facing in the opposite direction.
Gibbs was marginally sheltered from the giant wall of water by the front crane housing and only lost his footing. He continued to shout out to Ross and watched in horror as the other man was thrown against the side railing then tipped over into the blackness. Gibbs jumped up, ran to the railing and got there just in time to see the rope that Ross had been putting away, rapidly feeding out over the side. He grabbed hold of it and pulled it in as quickly as he could.
After a few lengthy pulls, he picked up the strain and knew that Ross was holding on at the other end. The ship lurched over again as another wave hit its side. The wash of water rushed across the deck and hit Gibbs, who was braced for the blow. It pushed him up against the iron railing. He continued shouting into the black night and thankfully felt the ship’s engine revs slow down.
Gibbs pulled on the line again and continued to shout out Ross’s name until the trawler crested a wave and tilted over in the other direction. Thirty-five metres out, in the white wash, he could just make out Ross’s head. Another crewmember arrived and threw the second line out to the teenager, who was desperately struggling to catch it and hold on. Gibbs knew that the freezing seawater would sap a man’s strength in a few seconds. More of the crew arrived, and together they managed to pull Ross closer to the side until one of them got hold of his safety vest. The tired and frozen apprentice was dragged back on board.
• • •
Inside the old ship’s galley, the large mugs of hot tea were quickly passed around, and the skipper smiled and patted Gibbs on the back. ‘Well done, laddie, that young man owes you his life.’
Gibbs smiled, his chest bursting with pride, as he looked across at Ross, who was wrapped up in a large silver survival blanket. He simply nodded back to Gibbs, appreciation and relief written all over his face.
Gibbs walked over to him. ‘That was a close one,’ he said.
‘Thanks again, mate,’ Ross replied, sipping more tea. ‘Does this get any easier?’
‘It does. I also went overboard in my first year,’ Gibbs said. ‘I was all arms and legs, knew nothing about life at sea, and was stood in the wrong place when a lobster cage swung across the open deck. I woke up on board, with a cold and a bleeding head.’
Ross laughed. ‘So how is your second year going?’
‘Marvellous, thanks,’ Gibbs said. ‘Now I get to look after you.’
The skipper stood up from the small cabin chart table. ‘All right, lads, the fish won’t jump into the nets themselves. Let’s get back onto the mackerel. Young Ross, you can spend the rest of the day in your bunk. Gibbs, you will pick up his workload. Now let’s move.’
An hour later, Gibbs stood to the side of the deck as the winch started to groan under the weight of the crammed trawl as it was pulled in full of fish. Suddenly one of the winches started slipping and then shuddered to a grinding halt. He ran over and opened up a small metal panel on the side of it. At first glance, all seemed fine. Darkroom Dave, the ship’s engineer, popped his head out of a door on the lower deck and called over to him.
‘Gibbs, get down here. We have a ruptured seal on a water pump, and engine one is down.’
‘Love to help, Dave, but the skipper told me to stay here.’
‘Bugger that. I’ll
clear it with the captain. You are the only one of these morons who has any brains for this.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Gibbs said and climbed down to the dark engine room. He’d only recently discovered his love of all things mechanical.
Ten minutes later, Gibbs radioed the skipper. ‘Boss, it’s Gibbs from the engine room.’
‘How are we going, laddie?’ the skipper asked.
‘Ruptured seal on a pump on engine one. It should take around forty-five minutes to replace,’ Gibbs said.
‘Damn it!’ the skipper shouted. ‘Okay, boys, just get it done.’
An hour later, they were able to start pumping the slippery catch from the net and into the refrigerated seawater tanks that would guarantee the freshness of the fish until they got back to port. This job took another twenty minutes before the skipper called time and set a course back to Aberdeen.
• • •
Gibbs awoke from his long nap when he heard the engine shudder with its last few turns and then suddenly fall silent. He smiled with a sense of excitement at being back in port. They had landed another good haul to end off a great season of fishing.
‘Get up, you lazy fuck,’ Jim shouted, banging on Gibbs’s cabin door.
‘Get a life, Jim. I don’t have to take any of your shit anymore,’ Gibbs said, brushing past him and knocking him back against the wall of the corridor.
‘Don't push me like that, you little shit.’
‘Or what, mate? I know you don’t like me, Jim, but I don't give a shit. The days of you bullying me are over.’
‘It’s over when I say it’s over,’ Jim shouted, but Gibbs had already climbed the metal steps to the deck.
They’d already begun pumping the fish out using large metal and rubber pipes, running from the onboard pumps to the dockside marketplace. Gibbs was standing over one of the pump housings and scanned the horizon of the granite city of Aberdeen. Old and historic buildings stood proudly amongst the newer skyscrapers, and he felt glad to be home after completing his second season. They had made some good money this year.
Gibbs- the Early Years Page 3