by Matthew Ross
‘This is a substantial number Charlie, the biggest I’ve ever done, my people will want reassurance, and it’s not like I can pay them on my credit card, get a few reward points. This is a cash business. They need to see the money.’
‘Well how about I talk to them myself? They bring the gear, I bring the cash and we trade there and then?’
‘You don’t get it, Charlie, do you? The reason these people are where they are is precisely because they don’t get their hands dirty at grass roots level, that’s why they go through people like me.’
‘So, what are we going to do then?’ asked Charlie. I had a bad feeling from what I’d heard, it had sounded to me like Beach was prevaricating, all he wanted was the money, don’t give it to him Charlie.
‘I’ve got an idea, a compromise,’ said Charlie, No don’t do it! I screamed at him inside my head. ‘How about half? Half upfront, half on exchange?’
‘Yeah, that could work, let me make some calls,’ said Beach, and I saw Charlie nod. Beach made a great show of extracting his phone from inside his jacket and I knew that was my cue to get out of there before I was spotted. Anyway, I’d seen and heard enough, my mind was made up, I knew Beach was my man. As the two of them performed handshakes and chest bumps I crept away quietly until I was around the corner, then I ran full pelt.
Charlie rounded the corner and found me settled on the arm of the bench looking nonchalantly at my phone. The two women still sat in silence watching the horizon, waiting for enough time to pass before they could politely say their goodbyes. Charlie called my name. I glanced up trying my best to look surprised to see him.
‘Charlie, hi, I was told you were out inspecting the grounds so I was just texting you to find out where you were,’ I said, slipping the phone back in my pocket.
‘Yeah, I nipped out for a crafty ciggy, filthy habit I know but, well…’
‘Sure.’ I rose to my feet, and gestured for him to walk with me, away from the quiet ladies. ‘So, tell me, our deal, are we on?’
‘Yes, yes, of course we are.’ As he spoke his phone pinged, he read the message and I read the big grin forming across his face. ‘Yes, we are most definitely on, have no fear Mark, all systems go.’
He motioned for us to walk a little further, off the footpath to the edge of the grounds, the damp from the grass seeped into my trainers, brilliant, nothing I hate more than spending a day in cold soggy socks.
‘I need at least fifty grand by tomorrow evening at the latest, can you do that?’ he said.
‘You know I can. But can you do all the paperwork your end?’
‘Relax, writing an order and a cheque? I’ll go in and do it now.’
‘Hold on, hold on,’ something had occurred to me for the first time. ‘A cheque? Tomorrow? No. No way. I’m not handing any cash over until the cheque is in my account and cleared, do you think I’m daft? I’m not giving you all my cash for the cheque to be cancelled as soon as I drive away.’
Charlie’s face whitened as I spoke, he was looking spooked and after a few open-mouthed moments he said ‘But… we’ve got an agreement, a deal, you just need to trust me.’
‘I don’t need to do anything. I want cleared funds before I give you anything.’
‘But I need it. Tomorrow.’
‘Sorry, but…well. Too bad.’
Charlie looked as though he was going to be sick, and my toes were going numb, so I began to walk away, back to the firm footpath. I walked slowly expecting him to follow but he didn’t. I increased my pace, moving in the direction of the van thinking one day you’ll be grateful to me Charlie as I might just have saved your life.
‘Wait,’ Charlie’s raised voice carried clearly across the distance. No, no, no, do yourself a favour Charlie and let it lie, I thought as he jogged towards me.
‘I have an idea, I think I know how to do it; I will need to check something in the office but I’m sure it’ll be okay, I’ll call you later and you can bring the money tomorrow, I’ll be here all day.’
‘Go on then, if you can sort it, then you’ll get the money’ were my last words to Charlie, hoping he’d fail. Nonetheless, whether or not Charlie could magic up some kind of financial miracle, I left Queen Mary’s knowing I had to act. I was confident Beach was my man, he hadn’t changed from years ago and I’d seen it with my own eyes, I knew he was going to double cross Charlie. Maybe I was at fault? Maybe it was too much, too tempting? But from the way he spoke, the way he was insistent on money up front, I could tell there was no deal, and as for Charlie offering half, he was inviting himself to be robbed. Now I was convinced this was Tommy’s downfall. Now I knew I had to act, and that’s why I was in the beer, wines and spirits aisle.
I’d parked up at the Hempstead Valley, and entered the shopping mall hoping the person I needed was working today. After a dash up and down the aisles, to my great relief I found him on his knees unpacking a pallet of South African chardonnay.
He saw me approach and rose from his kneeling position, dusting his hands off on his maroon uniform before thrusting one out in front of him. I grabbed it in both hands and shook a greeting.
‘Hi, you got a second? I need a word.’
‘Sure, if you don’t mind me finishing this?’ he said, glancing at the boxes beside him.
‘Do whatever you’ve got to do, mate. Don’t let me get in the way.’
Spencer, for that was his name, thrust his huge paws into the nearest box and withdrew two bottles by the necks, which in a fluid movement he placed on the empty shelf in front of him. With his enormous shaved head and barrel chest he looked almost identical to Nick Witham, apart from his big bushy badger of a biker beard to Nick’s clean-shaven dopey mug. To see them together you’d think they were brothers, which, given Nick’s chosen occupation may have its advantages. I’d known Spencer nearly as long as I’d known Nick, way back when we were all at school together, and I liked him a lot, a very funny guy. I guess we always knew Nick and Spencer were an item even before we knew what that meant. Two big happy bears, still together all these years later, the most successful relationship out of any us and still going strong.
‘Listen Spencer, I need you to tell Nick something important, but remember, you didn’t hear it from me, okay?’
52
I woke quite early and checked my phone but there were no missed calls from Charlie, hopefully that meant he’d given up.
Uncle Bern arrived with Disco around nine, quite a late start by my standards but to hear them both whinge you’d think I’d woken them up at stupid o’clock for wetting the bed.
As Old John had said, the weather was improving in the run-up to the weekend and the Sun threatened to shine all day, so Disco began by setting up his working area on the decked patio area outside my kitchen. With Uncle Bern’s help they had a couple of fence panels off, creating a clear open space across the back of mine and Perry’s houses allowing us to work in both houses at the same time. Perry opened her kitchen door and cheerfully came out to greet us, offering teas and coffees all round.
Disco had looked at all of the units we’d grubbed out of the Wilkes’ kitchen and had sketched out a layout for both our houses that used most of them, and he began walking around telling Uncle Bern which ones to move to my house and which were to stay at Perry’s.
Whilst the pair of them began transporting the units between houses, Perry cooked them sausage sandwiches on my advice; ‘If we don’t keep them here once they finally arrive,’ I’d said, ‘they’ll only disappear to the cafe and we won’t see them for hours.’
As Uncle Bern, Disco and I sat outside on the dwarf wall enjoying our breakfast, Mr Skinner skipped over the lawn to see what was going on, and walked back and forth between the gardens deciding whether or not he approved of the missing fence panel.
‘He’s a handsome chap,’ said Uncle Bern, stretching his hand towards Mr Skinner.
‘Don’t do that Bern, he’ll rip your arm off, he doesn’t like strangers, oh ferrfux…’ I said as
Mr Skinner rubbed his forehead against Uncle Bern’s knuckles and purred loudly. Mr Skinner recoiled with wide open eyes as my hand approached him – even Uncle Bern, it seems, is preferable to me.
My phone buzzed and all concerns of winning the acceptance of an old stray left me when I saw it was Charlie’s number on the display. I walked back inside the house for privacy. He sounded happy in his greeting.
‘Mark, problem solved. Are you ready your end?’
‘Charlie, what’s going on?’
‘I’ve fixed it – I needed to check but I was right, I do have the authority to make electronic payments. So, I can transfer the money directly into your bank account. If you can get the cash to me this morning, it can be clear funds in your account by the end of the day. Brilliant, eh?’
I told him he was indeed brilliant, as that’s what he wanted to hear, no matter what I really thought, and told him I’d meet him at Queen Mary’s in the next half hour. With a sense of uncertainty about what lay ahead I returned to the garden: ‘Bern, put that cat down, we’re going out.’
Uncle Bern followed me to Queen Mary’s, and we parked up side by side close to Old John’s container. Uncle Bern and Old John seemed to know one another, and Uncle Bern wandered off with him. Before I reached the entrance steps, Charlie had raced outside to greet me in a state of great excitement.
‘Do you have it?’ he said, and I nodded. ‘Let’s have it then.’
‘No,’ I said, ‘Not until the money’s in my account.’ He looked a mix of confused with a dash of angry, but I didn’t care. As I looked out over the car park, I couldn’t see any sign of Uncle Bern or Old John, good, that’s what I’d been hoping for.
‘One of my associates has it,’ I said, immediately knowing I sounded like a prick for saying associates. ‘They’re here, on site, and I’ve told them to hand it over as soon as I get the bank’s message alert that the funds have arrived.’
Charlie looked out over the car park. Maybe because it was becoming a bright Spring day, it was busier than I’d seen it before. There weren’t many empty spaces and people were coming and going constantly. Looking further out across the grounds plenty of people were strolling along the paths and sat on the many benches and seats enjoying the warm sunshine, there was no way to know whether any of them were with me. Charlie seemed to weigh his options and nodded agreement, muttering okay under his breath.
‘Follow me,’ he said, and he led me to his office, winning me filthy looks of suspicion and disgust from Kate Fuller as we passed her in the corridor. In his office he leant over his desk and gave his mouse a little wiggle, the screen of his laptop blinked back into life. I sat in a guest chair watching him tap away; he remained standing as he did so, and then after a minute or two he beckoned me over to look at his screen. The logo of a big bank was in the corner of the screen and as I read the text displayed I could see it was an instruction to make an electronic payment to my account for the sum of fifty thousand pounds, and adding a theatrical flourish he pressed the send button, the screen instantly changed to a confirmation screen: ‘Satisfied?’
I found Uncle Bern in the resident’s lounge watching a home improvement programme on the big communal television. Televisions in old people’s homes are always huge, very bright and very loud. I couldn’t talk over the sound, I could barely think, so I gestured for him to follow me to a quieter area, and after a rolling of his eyes, he made a big deal of following me to the empty dining area.
‘I was watching that,’ he said in all seriousness, sounding extremely put out by the inconvenience.
‘I’m not paying you to watch telly. Look, I want you to stay here all day and keep an eye on Charlie Quentin for me from a discreet distance.’
‘Who’s Charlie Quentin?’
‘You see that fella over there by the front reception on the phone?’
‘What, the wally in the beads?’
‘That’s him. Just keep an eye on him.’
‘What for?’
‘Because I’m bloody asking you to, that’s what for!’
‘No, what am I watching out for, what do you think’s going to happen?’
‘Oh, I see, right, just make sure nothing happens. If anyone approaches him that looks a bit suspicious or nasty then you need to make an anonymous call to this number,’ I said, handing him a piece of paper.
‘Who am I looking for, anyone in particular?’ I gave him a description of Rob Beach and he nodded, it looked as though it was going in, but I had to wonder.
My phone buzzed, a text alert, the transfer had arrived in my bank account, I had to keep up my end of the bargain. I felt the thick package inside my jacket, it was still there. I rose from my chair.
‘Pay attention Bern, this starts now,’ I said and went to hand over the cash to Charlie.
Uncle Bern made reassuring noises as he followed me out of the dining room, and plopped himself back in front of the television.
Back at home, all was going fine. By the time I returned Disco had removed the old units from Perry’s house and stacked them in the back garden, he’d removed the wall tiles and ripped up the old vinyl floor. He’d also manhandled Perry’s appliances – the cooker, washing machine and fridge freezer stood in a solemn semi circle, a Stonehenge of white goods in her living room.
The kitchen was now a dismal empty space with a faint echo. Bare unpainted patches of plaster once hidden behind cabinets were exposed for the first time in their history, you could tell it was decades because the plaster was grey, not pink like modern plaster done in the last twenty years or so.
Disco explained his grand vision to me, and pointed out that the cooker point and a couple of plug sockets needed to be moved, no big deal and so I gathered up the right tools and made a start.
‘He’s here, he’s here, that bloke you were talking about, I’ve just seen him, walked right past me,’ said Uncle Bern so quickly he was in danger of hyperventilating.
‘Calm down. What’s happening?’
‘He was out the front fiddling with his phone. I guess he was sending a text message because a minute or two later your mate came out. He put an arm round your mate, and they walked off around the corner, do you want me to follow them?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘Whatever you do, don’t let them see you, just hang back.’
‘Wait, they’re coming back now,’ said Uncle Bern, sounding like he was enjoying himself. ‘Now they’ve stopped, they’re talking, the other one he’s patting his jacket, now they’re shaking hands, all looks friendly, now your mate’s gone inside and the other one’s gone to his car, an old blue Golf just like you said.’
‘Okay Bern, thanks,’ I said. ‘Tell you what, can you hang around for another couple of hours, just in case?’
There didn’t seem much else to going on at Queen Mary’s, the transaction had gone through and everyone seemed to be playing nicely with each other, so Disco and I motored on in the kitchens. It didn’t sound like a violent confrontation, in fact it sounded quite amicable, but it didn’t mean he wouldn’t be coming back. Assessing the situation, I realised it was time to make a call. I waited for the connection to go through and a second later it was answered.
‘I need to speak to him,’ I said.
53
The next morning, I felt quite smug looking at what we’d achieved: the floor units were in as well as most of the wall units. Today we’d get the worktops on, fit a new sink and taps, install the appliances, reconnect the plumbing and electrics, and Uncle Bern could make a start on the wall tiling, which to everyone’s amazement, is something he’s actually pretty good at.
Uncle Bern dropped Disco off, the pair of them deep in conversation about a plumber we all knew who’d recently been sent down for fiddling his VAT.
‘Uncle Bern, before you start here, can you quickly nip over to Queen Mary’s, have a look around, make sure all’s okay, and nothing happened overnight?’ I said, and walked him out to the van, listening to him moan about Disco.
I came back, and then listened to Disco moan about Uncle Bern, eventually managing to fade him out by focussing on the music coming from Tommy’s pigeon shit radio on the window sill. From what I could gather he only stopped moaning after Perry offered to make a run to the cafe for breakfast due to both kitchens being out of operation.
The three of us were sat drinking stewed tea from polystyrene cups and eating fried egg sandwiches when Uncle Bern phoned.
‘He’s not here. Your mate. He’s not here, nobody’s seen him this morning. His car’s been here overnight, and I felt the bonnet like they do on telly, it was stone cold, no-one’s seen him since last night.’
I cut the call and dialled Charlie’s number, straight to voicemail, I hung up and redialled, voicemail, hung up, redial, voicemail. I had a very bad feeling about this, and punched in a different number, this one rang a couple of times before it was answered:
‘Karen? Hello, hi it’s Mark Poynter. Sorry for calling you out the blue like this, but I’m trying to get hold of Rob Beach. He’s not with you on a play date is he? No? But he’s left his boy there? Do you know where he is? No? Okay, no, no message, thanks.’
So, both Charlie and Beach had gone AWOL, the nauseous creeping of guilt rolled across my stomach, I punched in a third number, it was answered almost immediately.
‘Spencer, it’s Mark, that thing we were talking about, tell Nick it’s happened.’
I put the phone down, my head was spinning and so were my guts, only in the opposite direction. Just when I thought the day couldn’t get any worse, I heard the kitchen door creak open and the distinctive metallic tap-tap of a ring against the window pane.
‘Hi honey, I’m home,’ said Hamlet, sauntering in with the sort of confidence only someone in his position can pull off, the grit on the unfinished kitchen floor crackling under each footstep. Behind him lumbered Brazil and Dunlop, both looking around nosily to see what was going on.