The Burnley Boys

by Drew Black

  Helen bit down on her bottom lip, she felt sure she was going to scream, and as he began to move inside her, she did scream.

  "Helen, are you okay?" Tom asked sounding concerned.

  Helen let out a giggle; "Yeah, I'm fine, don't stop."

  Tom reassured, but still a little confused started to move inside her again, but this time quicker and deeper. Helen's body shuddered and her vagina tightened around him. Tom's own excitement peaked, and he came inside her.

  They continued to kiss and touch each other until eventually they fell asleep in each other's arms.

  Tom awoke first, initially thinking it was morning, but soon realising it wasn't. Shit! What time was it he thought? Could he hear someone downstairs, or was it just his imagination, his bedside clock said twenty-to-six. He tried to reassure himself that they had done nothing wrong, but nevertheless he still did not want his mother and Sally to find him and Helen in bed together. Tom got up and dressed quickly, brushed his hair back and tried to compose himself.

  "Helen, Helen." he said nudging her gently.

  "Hmm—yeah--what?" she said opening her eyes and looking up at him.

  "We've overslept, it's quartet-to-six!"

  "Christ!" she said with a start, quickly getting up and removing a sheet from the bed to cover herself with.

  "It's okay, I don't think they're back yet, but I better go and check.

  Helen's mind raced. God, what was she doing allowing herself to fall asleep like that? If Elizabeth and Sally were already home, her days here would be numbered. She knew in her heart that what her and Tom had done had been natural and beautiful. However, she doubted whether the mother of a seventeen-year-old boy, especially one who had been extremely poorly, would see it quite the same way.

  "It's okay Helen, they're not back yet." Tom called up the stairs.

  Helen breathed a huge sigh of relief, but still felt shaky. She dressed quickly and mussed her hair in the mirror. The experience had been wonderful, but still she felt a little guilty. She hoped he didn’t think she was a tart, and the thought made tears begin to well in her eyes. One trickled down her cheek, and she wiped it away. She made the bed and checked that everything in the room was as it should be before going downstairs.

  23

  Jack waved goodbye to Sam and began his bike ride home. As he cycled his thoughts were full of her. She had just given him a lingering kiss, their first. What Jack didn't realise though was it would also be their last because he would never see her alive again.

  JACK AND TOM JOIN THE BURNLEY BOYS.

  1

  APRIL 1960

  J ack looked out of his bedroom window, tomorrow was a big day, his twenty-first birthday party which John Jessop had kindly agreed to hold on the estate. However, Jack had other thoughts on his mind. During his time working for Jessop he had always known that the man tended to sail pretty close to the wind, but what he hadn't known was that Jessop was the head of a crime syndicate known locally as The Burnley Boys. The syndicate operated, amongst other things, a protection racket throughout the whole of Lancashire. It was common knowledge that the likes of Dave Quilter and Dave Jenkins where heavily involved in it, but no-one, that he knew anyway, would've suspected Jessop was involved in it, on the contrary, he was a highly regarded member of the community.

  The previous evening, Jessop had called him to his study and dropped the bombshell on him. He had invited him and his brother-in-law, Tom Ford to join the syndicate. Usually invitees weren’t given the option of refusing the offer, but Jessop had said that in the case of him and Tom he would make an exception on account of the loyal service they had given him over the years.

  However, Jack wasn't too sure about the validity of this gesture because anyone who was capable of perpetrating the kind of violence The Burnley Boys advocated was, in Jack's opinion, capable of anything.

  Apparently, Jessop had been planning to speak to Tom later that evening, and he like Jack would be forbidden from discussing it with another living soul, and that included each other. He'd also stressed how strict the syndicate's rules were, and that he could not guarantee to be able to protest them if any other member found out that either one of them had talked.

  Jack felt afraid, he knew that whatever decision he made it would undoubtedly be the biggest one of his life. He wished that Jessop hadn't told him about Tom. In fact, he wished he'd not invited them to join full stop. He just wanted to go into work on Monday and continue worrying about the day to day running of the estate. What he didn't want was this hanging over his head. What would Jessop really do if he turned him down, he thought. Jack didn't want to contemplate it, but he knew he had to. He concluded that if he wanted everything to carry on as normal, to carry on even, then he had no choice but to join.

  He felt a bit like the sorcerer's apprentice when he realised that Jessop had obviously been grooming him for a key role in the syndicate all these years. He must've been disappointed I didn’t jump at the chance of joining The Boys Jack thought, or that I’d not been smart enough to realise that he'd been involved with them all along.

  Jessop wanted a definite answer by the start of business on Monday morning. Jack was desperate to speak to Tom - 'no secrets' his mind threw up - but didn't dare to. What a birthday party this was going to be, he thought, feeling amazement that Jessop hadn't sorted all this out before he'd spent all that money on hosting his party. His palms felt sweaty, how long had he been standing here? Nearly half-an-hour his bedside clock informed him. Oh, fuck it! He didn't care what Jessop was or wasn't going to do to them, his mind was made up, he was going to go and see Tom.

  At Tom and Helen's house, his sister answered the door. "Ay-ah Jack, how are you? Helen said giving her brother a hug. "Come in, I presume you're here to see Tom and not your sister."

  "Yeah, if he's in sis." Jack replied doing his best to muster a smile, whilst ensuring he brushed his feet on the doormat, his sister was obsessed about cleanliness, much more than their mum was.

  "Ay-ah Jack." Tom said arriving downstairs. "I'll take Jasper out for his walk love, we won't be long." Jasper was Tom and Helen's Golden Labrador, and at the mention of his name he came padding into the hallway. "You could do with the exercise, couldn't you tubs." Tom said patting Jasper's flank.

  Outside neither of them uttered a word until they were over a hundred yards from the house.

  "What the fuck are we going to do about all this?" Jack finally said in a dismayed tone.

  "The only thing we can do, and that's join." Tom replied without hesitation.

  As they walked Jack found the air rather chilly.

  Jasper trotted along at Tom's side ignoring the tugs on the lead that were being generated from his master's gesticulating.

  "Did you ever guess Tom, in all honesty?"

  "I thought if anyone would've known the score regarding Jessop, it would've been you Jack. I mean you've been doing his accounts for the last five or six years."

  "Don't wind me up Tom, I run the estate for him, that's all. I'd absolutely no idea he was involved, sorry in charge of, the biggest fuckin' crime syndicate this side of the Irwell, I give you my word." Jack could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on.

  "I didn't mean to patronise you Jack, but you are his, what do you call it?

  "Protégé?"

  "Yeah, that's it, and I didn't get invited to join when I turned twenty-one."

  "I wish I could stay twenty and happy."

  "Stop sounding so depressed about it, it'll be a buzz. I've always fancied myself as an Al Capone type. Anyway, what do you mean 'stay happy' you've always been a miserable git, so I can't see how joining The Boys should make any difference on that score."

  Jack couldn't help but laugh; "You're an asshole." he said digging Tom in the ribs.

  "So, does that mean we're in?” Tom asked excitedly.

  "Like you've just said, we don't seem to have much choice, I just wished I shared your enthusiasm for it, that's all.

  "You'll s
oon perk up once the money starts to roll in."

  Jack ignored the comment, "You know," he said thoughtfully, "I was thinking about Sam before."

  "Awe come on buddy that was a long time ago, don't start over on that one again."

  "No Tom, hear me out. I wonder if she knew about any of this?"

  "What his little girl who attended Stonehurst College, no chance."

  "I'll tell you what does make you think though."

  "What's that?" Tom asked.

  "Well Sam's accident. Now all this about Jessop and the Burnley Boys has come to light, it makes you wonder if it was an accident after all."

  "No way, it was a straightforward hit and run, the police caught the guy, remember."

  Jack just shrugged his shoulders.

  2

  The week following Jack's party he and Tom attended a meeting at the estate. Jack knocked on the large black door as he had done a thousand times before. However, this time it felt different, much different. The door was answered by a man with blonde hair and pock-marked skin. Jack recognised him as a friend of Jessop's. He believed he was a sergeant major, or something connected with the military.

  "Good evening gentlemen, I'm Neville Hunter, please come in."

  Hunter directed them through into the lounge where they were met by four other men, one of whom they both instantly recognised, Dave Quilter.

  Phil Shards, whom they also both recognised, as Lancashire’s Chief of Police, conducted the introductions. "Good evening Jack, Tom, I'm Philip Shard's Lancashire's Chief Constable, this is my deputy, Derek Cheesman, Gerald Emerson; our accountant, and I believe you both already know David."

  "Yes, we used to work together." Tom said nodding at Quilter who dully nodded back.

  "Ah great everyone's here." Jessop said entering the room. "Then we'll get started. Everyone been introduced.

  "Yes, Mr Shards has introduced us to everyone." Jack replied.

  "We're all on first name terms in here Jack, you've earned that much already." Jessop said pouring himself a cup of tea.

  Shards threw a glance to his deputy who responded with a smile.

  "I'll start by officially welcoming you to the board, for want of a better word, of our syndicate whom for whatever reason is generally known as The Burnley Boys.

  Jack and Tom looked at one another with astonishment. "The board!" Jack repeated

  "Yes," Jessop replied, "the board, we've promoted a youth policy within the syndicate for some time now, and none of us lot are getting any younger. Therefore, you three, Dave, Jack and Tom are all to serve on the board in different roles. Of course, you two will be given a full induction and training, but we've decided that, for the good of the syndicate, it’s now time to extend our commitment to youth to board level.

  "However, you three represent a big gamble, not only for the syndicate as a whole, but to us, the senior officers, personally." Neville Hunter interjected.

  "You said that we'd have different roles." Jack asked addressing Jessop, "What are they?"

  Jessop nodded at Hunter indicating that he was to answer.

  Hunter stood up and went over to a flip chart that was situated in the corner of the room. "There are five departments that operate within the syndicate," Hunter said starting to scribble on the flipchart. "each one is headed up by an officer with the Chief Officer being John. John also runs our operations department, and Tom's role will be to shadow John, and hopefully eventually run this department on his own. Jack is to shadow Gerald who’s the head of our finance department. Recruitment and training are down to me. Phil and Derek run our internal security department, and Dave will run intelligence. Below us we have well over a hundred soldiers, and below them more than double that in—well, let’s call them sympathisers. However, we refer to these simply as friends of The Boys. When we decide that you two, and David as well, have all graduated as fully-fledged officers, John, Gerald, and Phil will be stepping down from their roles. John will remain as Commander-in-Chief however, and Gerald and Phil's roles will be reduced to that of an advisory capacity. They won't attend meetings or pay contributions but will still be there for us if called upon. In short, they will be retiring on full salary."

  "We'll probably end up working longer hours than we do now." Phil Shards said with more than a hint of irony.

  "Yes, until our new officers are fully up to speed, you probably will Phil, but isn't that one of the main reasons why the syndicate has prospered because we've always looked out for one another. We always have done lads. If an outsider threatens one of us, he threatens us all."

  Phil Shards nodded grudgingly. Just bite your tongue, he thought, a few more months and you'll be free of all this for ever.

  Jessop got to his feet; "Right gentleman, all that remains is to give you details of your training schedule. All three of you will be going on a two-week course down in Hertfordshire. You will leave this Friday. The course is a practical one designed to instil discipline, teach you self-defence, and generally toughen you up. When you return, we'll give you a couple of days breather, trust me you'll need it, and then we'll introduce you to your specific job roles. Gerald will spend a month on the estate with Jack, I'll spend a month training Tom down at the mill, and Neville will conduct Dave's training. However, Dave's new role is slightly different though. Obviously, he's been with us for some time, but the department is a new one. The syndicate has for some time now been at a stage in its development where it’s begun to attract a little more attention than we'd like. Therefore, one of the main functions of intelligence will be to find out what's being said about us, and who's saying it."

  The light was beginning to fade outside; "Any questions?" Jessop asked. "Right, I'll see you three here on Friday at eight pm sharp.

  3

  Jack cycled wearily up to his front door. He had just experienced the toughest two weeks of his life and had honestly thought he would not have the energy for the journey from the estate, but somehow, he'd managed it. He tried the door. it was locked. He fumbled for the key in his pocket, which in itself was an effort. He went into the living room and resisted the urge to simply flop on the sofa and began to search for a pen and paper. He had to go to his room to find it, he then proceeded to scribble a quick note trying his utmost to make it sound polite whilst at the same time making it crystal clear that he did not want to be woken up the next morning.

  Thank God it was Friday, and, good to his word, Jessop had given them the weekend off. The Camp Sergeants voice rang out in his head. "One day I'll fuckin' have you, you twat!" Jack said to no one in particular. Having returned from placing the note downstairs, Jack undressed and got into bed, within seconds he was fast asleep.

  He awoke the next day disorientated. He jumped out of bed thinking he was still at camp, only for relief to wash over him when he realised, he was at home in his own bed. He turned his clock around to face him; it was five o'clock. However, he was uncertain whether it was morning or night-time. He decided he wasn't bothered which it was and went back to sleep.

  Jack awoke for a second time when a gentle knock came to his door.

  "Come in." he said. Jack was surprised to see it was his father standing in the doorway.

  "How are you doing son?"

  "I'm okay dad, thanks, what time is it?"

  His dad smiled at him; "It's six o'clock in the evening, you've slept for almost twenty-four hours! That must've been some course."

  "Yeah, it was," Jack said rubbing his eyes "they kept us up all hours."

  "Your mother said tea's in half-an-hour, you must be starving."

  "Yeah, I am." Jack said suddenly realising his hunger, "I'm getting up now dad."

  "Okay, I'll see you downstairs."

  Jack got out of bed, feeling a little perplexed by his father's good humour, and wandered into the bathroom.

  That evening was the best he'd spent with the family for a long time. Everyone had a few beers and they all recounted stories of days gone by. Who was the best-behaved bab
y, and who was the worst? They told tales of holidays, and family gatherings. Relatives they liked, and ones they didn't. Jack for once really felt at one with his brothers, but something occurred to him as the evening drew to a close, he'd be leaving home soon. He'd never even contemplated it beforehand, but as he stood before his bedroom window seeing more of his own reflection than the outside world, he realised that soon meant months as opposed to years.

  4

  Next day Jack was up early. He felt much better, his feelings for the syndicate were growing. He'd been worried about the training programme, and although he'd felt like throwing the towel in on more than one occasion, he'd got through it, and that had given him strength. Maybe there were more difficult obstacles to overcome, only time would tell, but whatever happened from here on in, he'd gotten through that fortnight. He was also heartened by the fact that both Tom and Dave had found it tough as well. He stretched out his arms, yawned, and put on his glasses. The world swam into focus.

  As Jack approached Tom and Helen's front door, he experienced the strangest feeling, it was as if he was calling there for the very first time. As he knocked on the door, he hoped everything was alright. He examined the door in the minutest of detail, the grooves in the wood that were overcovered with dark green paint which was partially flaking away. He removed a loose piece with his thumb nail and immediately wished that he hadn't. He knocked again, only this time harder. He was surprised that Helen hadn't given Tom some grief about the doors paintwork, and then smiled to himself when he realised that she probably had.

  He heard the door being unlocked from the inside, and as it opened, he realised he had never been as ill-prepared for anything in his life before than he was for the site that met his eyes. To say he was shocked was an understatement. He realised that his mouth was open and shut it too quickly. He probably wouldn't have recognised her but for the eyes. Her hair was cut short, too short, and she looked much older, but he supposed that was only natural considering it had been over six years since he'd last seen her.