by Peter Boland
“No, but you need to prepare yourself. This is the second time he’s beached. His health will have deteriorated. He won’t be in the best of shape.”
“We should have stayed with him. Looked after him.”
“That wouldn’t have made any difference. There are people working around the clock looking after him. What I’m saying is tonight might be our last chance to save him, when the tide comes in, okay.”
Tanya looked at the carpet in the footwell, all the mischief had gone out of her. “Why are you telling me this?”
“I just thought you should know.”
“Great. Now I feel just …”
“Sorry, it’s just we need to prepare for the worst, but we’re going to do our best to get him back out to sea, aren’t we?”
“Yeah, let’s go. And no more funny stuff. I promise.”
“That’d be good.”
It took a while to get through the traffic which made Tanya more anxious. She squirmed around on her bum, trying to get comfortable. She could find no position to ease her impatience, so she just shrugged her shoulders and kept sighing heavily.
When they finally made it to the Thames, Tanya sprang out of the car ahead of Greg and burrowed her way through the crowds of people. They were still there, waiting like a load of cattle. Tanya hated them. They didn’t care what happened to the whale, this was just entertainment for them. It was a little blip in their dull lives, something to do in between TV and the pub. Tanya’s anger bubbled to the surface as the mindless morons just stood there getting in her way. She began elbowing them, creating a bow wave of annoyed people behind her.
The gap in the temporary steel fencing appeared in front of her, she didn’t stop for the policeman who guarded it. It was the same one she’d met earlier and her bruised face was all the ID that she needed.
Her feet drummed down the temporary ramp in her new boots. It was a novelty to not have them cutting off her circulation. Tanya was enjoying this new sensation when she got her first look at the whale since it’d got stuck a second time. It looked like a different whale to the one yesterday.
It resembled a giant punctured inner tube. Gravity was taking its toll, slowly killing it, crushing it to death with its own body weight.
Greg caught up with her and put his arm around her.
“Come on, we can still save it,” he said.
“But he looks so ill. Are you sure?”
“Of course, come on.”
At the foot of the ramp they met Rog who looked relieved to see Greg.
“He’s fading fast,” he said. “Some infections have appeared on his skin, I’ve given him some antibiotics to take care of them.”
“Good work,” Greg said. The three of them began walking towards the whale.
“Tonight will be our last shot,” said Rog.
“I know,” Greg replied
“Got any bright ideas?”
“None. We’ll just have to try the same as last time, but take him further out to sea.”
“Won’t he just turn around and head back up the river again?” Tanya asked.
“Yeah, possibly.”
“Why? He must know it will kill him?”
“No-one really knows why they do it,” said Rog. “If we did, maybe we could figure out how to stop him beaching again.”
Tanya felt useless. She just stood there staring at the whale. It was like she had betrayed him somehow.
She watched as people carried buckets from the river and tipped them over the whale’s skin. She should be doing that. But it all seemed so pointless. Even Greg and Rog didn’t really know what they were doing. It was all a big guess. A gamble and a pretty stupid one. It didn’t work last time so why would it work this time?
A shadow of sadness came over her, snuffing out all hope. What a cruel lonely way to die, stuck in an alien world surrounded by people who fussed around you with buckets, busy doing everything but achieving nothing. They threw water over you and then drove motor boats at you. Now wonder it was scared.
Then she remembered, this whale was young like her. On its own in a world it didn’t understand. She tried to think how the whale would feel. Probably exactly the same as her: angry, confused and depressed, especially as its mum wasn’t around. Maybe all it really needed was its mum. Tanya was reminded of those painful nights spent by the front door with her packed rucksack, waiting for her mum to come back.
“What happened to its mum?” Tanya said out of the blue.
“What?” said Greg.
“Its mum?”
“Probably got separated,” said Rog.
“Why do you ask?” said Greg.
“I dunno. When my mum left, I thought she was going to come back for me, but she never did. So I just stayed where I was, waiting for her. I wanted to find her but I didn’t know where to look. She never came. She never even called me.”
“She never called you?” said Greg
“No.”
“She never called you.” Greg said it again.
“That’s what I just said.”
“She never called you.” Greg repeated the words as if he were in a trance. Tanya realised he hadn’t been talking to her at all, but talking to himself.
“What’s up with him?” Tanya asked Rog who looked equally confused.
“I haven’t the foggiest,” said Rog.
Greg dragged his feet around in the mud looking down at the dirty thick gunge as though it might reveal the answer. He muttered the words same words over and over again: She never called you. Tanya and Rog looked at each other, worried that the pressure had got to him.
“Tanya, that’s brilliant,” Greg said, finally coming out of his daze. He grabbed Tanya by both arms and shook her affectionately. “No it’s not brilliant, it’s genius. Of course, why didn’t I think of that?”
Tanya was still completely clueless.
“What? What did I say?”
“Your mother never called you, so you just stayed where you were because you didn’t know where else to go.”
“That’s right.”
“So imagine you’re this whale and you can’t find your mother. What if he’s acting just like you, staying put because he doesn’t know what else to do?”
“That would make sense,” said Rog.
Greg spoke slowly but his arms were animated, as if he were a TV detective explaining a whodunit. “So what would he do if his mum called him?”
“He’d want to go to her. I know I would,” said Tanya.
“Exactly.”
“But we don’t know where his mother is,” said Roger.
“No.” Greg’s voice sounded like it would burst with excitement. “But we can make her call him, artificially.”
“Hey, that’s not a bad idea,” said Rog.
“Would it work?” asked Tanya, “I mean, how would you do it?”
“Okay, what would happen if we played a recording of some whale song underwater, specifically a mature female humpback calling to its young?”
“It’d follow the sound,” said Tanya.
“Exactly.” Greg pointed at Tanya like it was a game of charades. “We play that whale song to our humpback and he’ll follow it right off this riverbank and out to sea.”
“It’s worth a shot,” said Rog.
“It’s fucking awesome,” Tanya added.
“Rog, I need you to get hold of a sound file of a female humpback calling to its calf. Get it looped so it plays over and over. Stick it on my ipod. It’s in the front of my car.”
“Tanya, you’re with me. We need to scrounge an underwater speaker off someone.”
“I could nick one.”
“No, that won’t be necessary. I’m sure someone will lend us one.”
Chapter 15
Lena stood outside the deserted tower block under a night sky that was thick and starless. There was a slight bulge in her hooded top where she had stuffed some black bin bags. Duff had told everyone to bring them. He’d said looting and robbin
g was only limited by how much you could carry. He’d have probably made them take wheelbarrows if they weren’t so conspicuous.
There was an unhealthy screech of tyres and a second later a pair of headlights shone into her eyes. A battered old grey Honda Civic swung into view and slotted itself against the kerb. Its engine clicked and whined like an old clock. Duff was driving and Gem sat in the passenger seat, he didn’t look at Lena.
The driver’s window slowly powered down to reveal Duff smiling devilishly. “Ready?” he asked. She nodded. “Okay, get in.”
Neither of them offered to get out, so Lena squeezed past the front seats to get into the back.
“Is this your car, Duff?” Lena asked.
“It is tonight.”
Duff and Gem laughed.
Lena beat herself up mentally for being so naïve. Some poor bastard had lost his car. The police would probably find it abandoned somewhere after the Niners had finished with it.
“Where’s everyone else?” asked Lena.
“I told you last night,” replied Duff, “we’re making like Scooby Doo and splittin’ up, weren’t you listening?”
“Yeah, course.”
“So you know the plan?”
“Yeah.” Lena sat on the back seat, feeling like a child. A very scared child. She had no idea what the plan was. She couldn’t remember and hoped she’d be able to wing it. Just follow the others she told herself.
The engine complained with a screech as Duff drove away. Too heavy on the clutch. He’d probably never had a driving lesson in his life.
“Lena, check this out.” Gem turned around from the front passenger seat clutching a small silver object. He held it low in the gap between the two front seats, just above the handbrake.
Lena didn’t need to guess what it was.
The terrible truth was revealed right before her eyes.
A gun.
“Is that real?” She already knew the answer to her question but asked it anyway. Nerves had got the better of her.
“Oh it’s real.” Gem pointed the gun at her head and made a pretend bang sound. He grinned, letting her know the balance of power was now back in his favour.
Lena stared him out, so he knew she wasn’t scared just because he had a gun. In truth, she was terrified and wanted to stop the car and run home.
A siren blasted them out of their deadlock.
“Fuck,” said Gem. He quickly stuffed the gun back into his trousers. The spinning lights of a police car filled up the back window of the Civic. Lena gripped the fabric of the seat with both hands. If they were about to get pulled over and arrested Lena wouldn’t mind at all. The riot wouldn’t happen and she’d probably just get a caution for riding in a stolen car, while Duff and Gem would take the brunt of it. Then she could go back to her old life of being just another stupid hoodie.
“That’s it,” said Lena. “It’s over.” At least, she hoped it was.
“Shut the fuck up, Lena,” shouted Duff. “Do you really think they’re after us? Have you seen how many police cars are behind us?”
Lena twisted in her seat and saw at least four.
“They don’t send out that many to chase a car doing the speed limit, even if it is stolen. Now I’m going to pull over and let them past.” The Civic drifted over to the kerb and the four police cars screamed past. “They’ve probably got the call there’s something going on at the Newington Arms, that’s a good thing. It means that shit is happening like it’s supposed to.”
“You’re a bit jumpy, Lena,” said Gem. She could tell he was saying it more for Duff’s benefit than hers.
“I’ll be fine, as long as you don’t point that fucking gun in my face again.”
“Cool it, both of you,” Duff said. “I should have split you two up.”
“You sound like a teacher,” said Lena.
“You trying to be funny?” asked Duff. “You think this is funny?”
“No, I was just trying to …”
“Just keep your mind on the job. You too, Gem. We’re nearly there. Now get it together, okay.”
Duff backed the stolen hatchback into a narrow side road a few hundred metres away from the main high street. Double yellow lines ran all along the gutter and little metal signs warned that no parking was allowed here at any time. They pulled up and exited the car.
“We’ll walk from here,” Duff announced.
“But we’re on double yellows,” said Lena.
“Hell, you’re turning into a right wuss, Lena. Are you sure you’re up for this?” said Gem, seizing the opportunity to put her down.
Lena squared up to Gem. “Do you want another kicking, little man?” Gem pulled out the gun and stuck it in Lena’s face. She froze with terror but managed not to show it. “Go on then, you haven’t got the balls,” she said.
“Fuck’s sake,” shouted Duff. “Put that fucking gun away. And, Lena, stop stressing. Both of you follow me.”
At the end of the narrow road sat a skip full of builder’s rubble and litter. Duff reached in and pulled out armfuls of broken bricks and small chunks of concrete. Lena and Gem stared at him.
“Well, come on,” Duff said. “If we’re gonna start a riot we need some ammo.” The two of them joined him and filled their pockets with stones and broken masonry. “Okay, now we’re ready. Remember, keep your hoods up at all times, we don’t want no CCTV footage of us.”
They left the narrow road and headed into the high street, joining a crowd of people heading in the same direction. In the distance they could see the Newington Arms. A large group had already gathered and was swelling by the second. The word had got around.
“Hell, it’s already kicked off,” said Gem.
“Nah,” replied Duff, “That’s just a bunch of people hanging around, we’re gonna turn it into a riot.”
As they got closer they could see the police had fanned out to form a barrier between the pub and the mob outside. There was pushing and shoving and a few shouts of ‘racist scum’ but nothing that would make the ten o’clock news. The police had the situation under control.
Duff pushed his way to the middle of the crowd so he was close enough to see the pub but concealed by the people in front of him. Lena and Gem took position behind him waiting for him to make the next move.
Duff nudged a guy next to him. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“There’s some neo-nazi twats in the pub,” he said without looking round at Duff.
“What? You’re shitting me.” Duff said it loud enough for everyone to hear the surprise in his voice. “Then why the fuck aren’t we tearing this place apart? Nazis got no place here.” A couple of lads in front of Duff turned around.
“You’re right,” one of them said.
“We should do something,” said the other.
“Damn right,” Duff replied. “Them police are protecting them, that ain’t right.” Duff’s voice was carrying further and there were grunts and murmurs of ascent from the crowd. He seized the moment and plucked a lump of brick from his jacket and lobbed it over the heads of everyone. It clattered against the sign above the pub’s front window and dropped harmlessly to the pavement.
A cheer went up.
Duff swiftly followed it up with another. That was all it took to get others started. Objects started sailing through the air and smashed against the pub. People scrabbled around for things to throw. The pub was pelted with beer cans, rubbish and coins. It didn’t take long for people to start throwing things at the police. They weren’t kitted out in riot gear and knew this was only going to get worse. Eventually they’d get overrun and the pub would be stormed. An officer broke away from the main group and darted inside. A few seconds later the pub’s occupants were led out. The police formed a tight corridor, shielding the people emerging.
“They’re coming out,” someone shouted. The crowd surged forward hoping to break through the police line.
“Throw something then,” Duff shouted at Lena. She’d been too occupied wa
tching the whole thing unfold. She pulled half a brick from her jacket and took aim. She cranked her arm back and threw, but something made it go wide of its target; she recognised someone coming out of the pub. His scarred and tired face was unmistakeable. It was Tanya’s dad. Surely he wasn’t one of the Nazis? As he disappeared into the crowd, the brick she threw completely missed the pub and skewed sideways into the plate glass window of a newsagent next door, sending jagged cracks across it.
“What the hell was that?” Gem said. “You’re supposed to be aiming for the pub.”
“You’re wrong, Gem,” said Duff. “That was the money shot.” They looked as people turned their attention to the newsagent. Objects flew into its window, causing glass to splinter everywhere. Unlike the pub, the police weren’t guarding it. People broke off from the main crowd and kicked in the remaining shards of glass that hung like dragon’s teeth from the window frame. They poured in through the hole and returned clutching armfuls of cigarettes. The police broke their protective line around the pub and tried to stop the looting, but the crowd was too big and surged forward, knocking them back. The only thing they could do was retreat. “It’s kicking off,” said Duff slapping Lena on the back. Once again she’d trumped Gem, quite by accident.
A policeman pushed past Lena with a cut on his head. He garbled something into his walkie talkie about needing back-up and was gone.
“We should get in there,” said Gem. People were now looting and kicking in shop windows all around them.
“Nah, not worth it,” said Duff. “Too many people, and the riot police will be here any minute. We’re going up the road where it’s quieter, and while the cops are distracted, we’ll be filling our boots.”
Duff, Lena and Gem left the growing chaos behind and jogged back up the high street. As they did, they passed more and more people heading the other way to join the riot. Seconds later, three white vans packed with police in full riot gear sped past them. Judging by the size of the crowd they’d just left behind, it wouldn’t be nearly enough.
“See,” said Duff, “while they’re busy, we’ll grab ourselves some sweet phones.” They found themselves in front of a smart mobile phone shop. A huge sea of glass made up the front window. It was covered in graphics of trendy, happy people looking all smug, texting and playing on their mobiles. Lena thought about her own mobile, it was 2-years old and had a cracked screen. She wouldn’t mind a shiny new one.
