by Riva, Aline
“Yay, Archie!” she said, and as they got out of the car and Angel joined them, Mickey and Joy exchanged a glance, then linked hands as they began to make a slow walk towards the bar at the far end of the street.
No one was behind the bar as the crowded place stayed busy and people enjoyed drinks and chatted casually. Archie toddled off behind the bar, then through the doorway that led out to the back, and he hurried quickly down a hallway, where laughter was echoing from a bathroom. He approached the door and heard a shriek, then Mummy laughed.
“That's so cold!”
“Well I have to wet it first or it won't stick!” Charlie reminded her, “Keep still, I'm almost done...”
Archie pushed the door open and stood there with his flipper like hands touching at the tips, watching as Uncle Charlie peeled a piece of paper from his Mummy's back.
“What is that?” he asked.
“Fake tattoo,” Carla told him.
She turned her back to the mirror and laughed as she saw the large Gothic lettering on her lower back, spelling Carla. Then she turned back to face the mirror, blinking spidery fake eye lashes as she looked down at her cropped top and the way it pushed her breasts together and made her cleavage plunge. She was wearing skin tight jeans and spiked stiletto shoes and Charlie had spent an hour curl in her hair, then spraying it so it looked full of volume. She was glad he had offered to help. She was limited to knowing how to use a curling iron, and had said, I need help with this. It's not as if I'd know where to begin... She laughed again.
“Oh my god, this is not me!”
As she turned back to him, Charlie smiled.
“That's the whole point,” he reminded her, and then as Archie toddled over, he leaned down, speaking carefully to the little boy.
“I know you're clever.”
Archie smiled broadly.
“Yes! Mummy says Archie is a clever boy!”
“And you need to be a brave boy,” added Charlie, “Some people are coming here soon, they are looking for Mummy. If they find her, they will take her away and make her stay with them for a very long time and she doesn't want to do that. So we have to stick to a plan...”
He began to explain. Archie listened carefully, tapping the tips of his tapered hands together as he nodded, paying close attention to instructions.
A short while later, Mickey and Joy entered the bar, the place was packed out but as they walked in, heads turned and people stepped aside and when they reached the bar, a man he had never met before got off his seat, then his companion did the same, so Mickey and Joy could sit at the bar.
“Bloody hell, what happened to you?” Carla exclaimed, staring at the sight of classy and elegant Carla looking anything but classy. Her face was caked with make up. Her hair was sprayed heavily and she had a tattoo on her lower back in huge lettering. Her spidery eyelashes fluttered as she smiled, giving her a wink.
“All part of the plan,” she said, and then she proceeded to pull a pint for Mickey, then she made a vodka and orange for Joy, and she did it with such ease.
“Practise makes perfect,” she added.
Then as he saw the confused look on Mickey's face, Charlie leaned on the bar, dropping his voice low.
“Let me explain, Mickey. She's Carla - but not the Carla they are looking for. They don't even now Carla Reynolds has a kid! And that's where Archie comes in. As for you, Mickey, it's like this: They're looking for Michael Silk. And that's your name. But you're not that Michael Silk.”
Mickey's jaw briefly dropped as he stared at Charlie.
“And how do you think that will work?”
“Because they've been sent to look for Carla. They're just staff, sent on a job. They don't know her personally. And as for the police, all their records were lost never to be recovered during the crisis. They don't even have your fingerprints any more.”
“And you think that's enough?” he said as he started to break into a sweat.
“No, it's not,” Charlie replied, “But I have something else that will be. I have the word of every single person in this bar that they've known Carla - and you - for years.”
Mickey shook his head.
“No, they might do that for Carla, because of Archie, but no one would do that for me.”
“Yes they will,” Charlie assured him, “Trust me.”
Then he went off to serve a customer. By now Carla was at the other end of the bar, pulling a pint as she glanced up, trying to hide her jangled nerves as she watched Archie laughing as he stood with Angel and then ran over to a less crowded spot near a corner, where he toddled up and down as she ran after him. She didn't doubt Archie would be able to remember all Charlie had told him, Archie was a clever boy, he was just different and it wasn't outwardly obvious that he was more than able to play along. She wanted this over with, she kept watching the clock and then looking to the doors, waiting for the moment to come that would decide everything...
As they sat there at the bar, Mickey looked anxiously at Joy as he leaned closer, lowering his voice.
“Joy, this isn't going to work. No one will lie for me! All I did was come into this town and help out with running it, I did no more than Devan or the committee!”
“But you did, you helped this town, and you got rid of Brett! You saved Carla, too! People don't forget things like that.”
“No,” Mickey said quietly as he shook his head, looking down into a drink he had barely touched, “No one would do that for me, Joy,” he met her gaze, fear still lingered in his eyes but now there was acceptance there too - it scared her to see how resigned he was to his fate.
“I'll miss you and Angel but I'll always be thankful we met,” he stated, staying strong as now, as at the last minute before the end, he felt ready to face the consequences of a life lived before this one, a life when he had not realised one day he would have so much to lose, “I do love you, Joy. I never loved anyone as much as I love you, and until I met you I didn't know how it felt to be cherished. I certainly didn't think I'd ever have a child to think of as my own. And I'm not leaving here in handcuffs. When they show up, if the worst happens and they try and arrest me, I'm going to put up a fight and I'll make sure I'm shot. I'm not dying in prison. Please try and get the kids out of here before that happens, not just Angel, Archie too. I sincerely hope Carla does stay hidden, and does get to live here in this town with her son, living an ordinary life, she deserves that. But I've done a lot of things I should have regretted long ago. I got away with too much for too long and if you think the police coming for me is my punishment, you're wrong, Joy.”
Her gaze reflected confusion.
“What do you mean? What could be worse than that?”
He gave a sigh, gently pushing his drink away as he turned to face her, leaning on the bar as he looked at her and wished so much could be different.
“The worst for me is knowing I'll never see you and Angel again. Knowing I'm going to face the inevitable alone, and that you will be here missing me, while I'm gone forever. That kills me more than anything else, Joy. And maybe it's what I deserve. I'm Flora Deering's brother. I've dealt in weapons sales and smuggling and I've arranged contract killings. Don't forget that.”
“And that doesn't mean you're evil and it doesn't mean you don't deserve a second chance,” Joy told him firmly, “I've seen how much you've changed, you're not that person any more! You're my Mickey, you're a father to Angel and I can count all the good deeds you did while we were out there on the road, the lives you've saved...And you didn't do it because there was something in it for you, Mickey. You did it because you wanted to. So don't start talking like you don't deserve a second chance, because you do! This outbreak has changed everyone and for you, the change was for the better. I'm not leaving, I'm not moving from this seat, whatever happens next, I'm beside you.”
“You might regret that decision,” Mickey told her.
Joy sipped her drink.
“I have no regrets,” she assured him.
; And then as the doors opened up and people stepped aside and the room fell to a dead silence, Mickey looked into the mirrored glass behind the bar, watching reflected as they entered the room, an army general, a police detective and two officers who had holstered guns.
“Maybe I should have come here armed,” Mickey said under his breath.
“You won't need it,” Joy assured him, and as she said that she placed her hand over his, holding on tightly as the men walked into the bar, looking about the place as the whole room looked on, saying nothing, sensing trouble...
Mickey's hand was shaking. Joy kept a grip on it, pausing to sip her drink as she discreetly said, Keep it together, Mickey... He was sitting there tense, watching in the mirror as they came in, and now the people that had packed out the place had shifted back, allowing the strangers space as the army general spoke up.
“My name is General Eaves, and I am here on a matter of government importance,” he said, “Enquiries have been made about a scientist named Carla Reynolds, she's someone we need to speak with urgently. In fact, she's done nothing wrong - we just need to recall her to an urgent government matter, and we've received word she's here, at this bar. Does anyone know Carla?”
Then as he placed a drink on the bar and looked over, Charlie spoke up.
“We have a Carla Reynolds right here,” and then as Carla looked at him and laughed, he added, “But she's no scientist, mate. She's my bar staff, she's worked here for six years!”
As the General, a man in his sixties with dark hair approached the bar, Mickey watched in the mirror as the tall, pale man in a thick grey winter coat that matched the shade of his hair and eyes glanced back at the armed police and told them to lock the doors. He drew in a slow breath, watching as the detective began to talk to customers, and he knew he was asking about him... Joy didn't let go of his hand.
“It's okay,” she said quietly, “Just stay calm...”
“It's easy for you to say,” Mickey replied, “They're not looking for you.”
“Stop it,” she whispered, looking down at her drink as she guessed soon enough, they would be watched and then approached, “For once in your life just have some faith, please? It's all we've got!”
She gave his hand a squeeze and he took a deep breath, paused to sip from his drink and set it down again as he carried on watching through the glass behind the bar, waiting for the moment he would be approached and questioned.
The General was at the bar now. He stood there as Carla smiled brightly.
“What can I get you?” she asked.
“You're Carla Reynolds?” he said.
“That's right, why?” she turned around, taking a discarded drink from the bar, and as she turned her back to put it in the dishwasher, she bent over in skin tight jeans, displaying a large lower back tattoo that said Carla. The General frowned, then he took a picture from his pocket, studying the photo set into a laminated ID badge from Marshcast. He looked hard at the image of the woman in her thirties, with fair hair tied back and no make up on...
“How long have you lived in Wickstall?” he asked Carla.
She blinked spidery lashes.
“I was born here.”
“And you've never worked at Marshcast?”
She shook her head.
“You've got the wrong person.”
“You have got the wrong person, confirmed Charlie as he stood beside her and put an arm around her shoulder, “I've know this girl all her life!”
Just then a middle aged couple came over with concerned looks on their faces.
“Is everything alright, love? Is this man bothering you?” said a tall, fair haired man who looked to be in his fifties.
The woman beside him was around the same age, and had long, dyed blonde hair tied in a ponytail. She also wore spidery eyelashes and had a face caked with make up.
“Why are you bothering her?” she demanded.
“And who are you?” asked the General.
“I'm her mother!” she said defensively.
Just then, little Archie toddled over and looked up the two people claiming to be her parents with a big smile on his face.
“Hello Grandad, Hello Nanny,” he said, raising his tapered hands, “Up, up!”
As the woman lifted Archie into her arms and he hugged her, the General looked on with a stunned expression.
“When you've finished staring at my son,” Carla said defensively, “Either buy a drink or get out!”
Charlie had been standing back watching the plan unfold, and now he put an arm around Carla once more.
“He's just doing his job, and he's clearly got it wrong,” he said, and then he let go of Carla and as she stepped back, he leaned on the bar, glaring at the General as he lowered his voice.
“You know you've got the wrong person - and Carla's been through enough, she's had a hard life, living ten years with that prick who used to work down the fair! He took one look at that sweet little boy when he was born, and he fucked off! Leave the girl alone, mate - and get out of my bar. Your scientist isn't here, obviously!”
The General looked to the small, heavy child with the tapered hands with sympathy, then to Carla with apology in his gaze.
“I wasn't staring - he's a lovely little lad. And clearly I have got the wrong person. I'm sorry, I won't bother you again.”
He turned away and walked off, on the way out bumping into the police detective.
“Any luck?” he asked, and the General shook his head.
“She's not the Carla Reynolds we're looking for,” he said in a low voice, “I never should have listened to small town gossip we've got people searching for her in other locations too, all drawing a blank. But, a lot of people died during the outbreak. And Marshcast has recalled enough surviving scientists to manage without her. I'm calling it a day, this search is leading nowhere. I'll see you in the car.” Then he walked away and left the bar.
It was a matter of minutes before the detective walked over, as two armed police stood back a short distance behind him.
“Michael Ferdinand Silk?” the detective said, and as Mickey turned around looking confused, he flashed his ID.
“I'm Detective Inspector Webster,” he said, “And there's a rumour going around that you're Flora Deering's brother, the gun smuggler.”
“Flora who?” Mickey said, looking confused.
In that moment, Joy's hopes soared. Finally Mickey had got over his fears. He was playing this out perfectly. I knew you could do it, ran through her mind as she recalled the times he had mentioned tight spots he had talked his way out of in the past.
Webster spoke again.
“I don't want any trouble, Mickey. These officer behind me are armed. Let's just walk to the car and do this quietly.”
“You have the wrong man!” Mickey said loudly, and suddenly a murmur went around the crowd.
“Leave him alone,” shouted a guy who stood next to the fruit machine, “That's my best mate!”
Oh no, the detective thought as he looked about the room. He had been asking around about Mickey Silk and everyone he had spoken to claimed he had the wrong man, that this Mickey had lived in Wickstall all his life - and now, it looked like it was true...
Two more guys came over, one glared at the detective.
“What do you want Mickey for?”
“How long have you known him?” Webster asked.
“All my life,” the man said, “We went to school together!”
Then as the woman who had claimed to be Archie's grandmother set him back down on the floor, she stepped forward too.
“I remember Mickey when he was a boy doing his paper round!”
“We all know Mickey here,” said Charlie as he walked out from behind the bar to join them, “I remember him when he was a little kid - I've known him all his life.”
“And who are you?” Webster asked.
“I'm the late Lord Bradley Featherstone's husband,” he replied, “I won't say I'm widowed, because he's always
with me in my heart. But yes, Mickey Silk has been a life long resident of Wickstall. In fact, he's also the third partner in my business. We used to run the bar together, with my husband.”
“And your sister isn't Flora Deering?” Webster asked Mickey.
He shook his head.
“I don't have a sister,” he replied.
Webster looked about the packed room.
“Is anyone here willing to give a statement regarding the identity of Mr Silk?” he asked.
And everyone came forward. Someone went outside to tell others, then came back in as those outside started queueing, too. Webster gave a sigh as he went over to a table, took off his coat and laid it on the seat next to him, and then took out a note book that suddenly seemed too small for the statements of so many people...
Mickey and Joy watched from the bar as one by one, strangers they had never met spoke to the detective and claimed to have known Mickey all their lives. He was born here, he works with Charlie Featherstone running this place, he has a wife called Joy. Been married for fifteen years, they have a daughter called Angel... The armed police stood by the door, already getting the feeling this rumour would lead to nothing. Every person in the bar was willing to talk about Mickey Silk - not the wanted man, but their Mickey, who shared the same name and clearly, had been a part of this community his whole life...
Webster had lost count of the people he had spoken to in this lengthy process of taking names and basically the same statement all over again from each person. They all knew him. He had nothing to do with guns or links to gangland activities - this Mickey Silk had lived in Wickstall all his life and had a family and ran a bar with the late Lord Featherstone's husband... Then he heard the quick thud of little shoes, then there was thump as Archie sat beside him, right on top of his coat.
“Hello friend,” he said with a smile as he opened up a tapered hand, his little eyes shining brightly.
Webster looked at the child who clearly had difficulties, and concluded a kid like this wouldn't know how to lie about anyone...