by James Barrie
‘I should never have been put away in the first place,’ Milton went on. ‘I’m an innocent man.’
That’s what they all say, Theodore thought, staring into the flames.
‘The judge said it was “Joint Enterprise”. That’s what he called it.
‘But I didn’t intend to kill anyone. We just wanted his car. I wasn’t even the one who was driving.
‘He should have just let us take it, instead of trying to stop us. Who would have thought he would try jumping onto the bloody bonnet? It would have been insured…
‘Well, I’ve cleaned up my act now. I got clean in prison. And I started studying a degree in law with the Open University… And I know I’m not guilty of murder. It was a robbery that went wrong. Manslaughter at the most. I didn’t know he was going to try to stop us, did I?
‘I didn’t kill nobody.’
That’s a double negative, Theodore thought; meaning you probably did.
Milton shook his head. ‘That’s the other thing about being inside,’ he said and laughed. ‘You end up talking to yourself!’
Theodore’s mind was racing. All crime was the result of human weakness, he realised; human greed became human misery. Crime was the symptom of humanity. All humans were criminals… His mind was racing.
I must be having a sugar rush, he realised.
◆◆◆
‘He doesn’t look the sort to shop in Urban Outfitters,’ Jonathan said.
Emily looked over and saw the middle-aged paunchy man in a pin-striped suit with a rucksack on his back enter the clothes shop on High Ousegate, which describes itself as a ‘hip retailer for apparel and home décor’. ‘Maybe he wants a new look,’ she said.
As she looked a teenage boy with long hair came out of the shop. He was wearing a black T-shirt that read, ‘NON BINARY, in white capitals.’
‘He’d be better off at M&S,’ Jonathan said. ‘People should dress their age…’
Emily’s mobile phone beeped. She took it from her pocket. ‘It’s my dad,’ she said. ‘He never usually texts…’
‘What’s it say?’
‘Just: “Might be worth checking the river. Theo might have fallen in”.’
‘The river? Is he drunk?’
‘He can only just have got home,’ Emily said. ‘Maybe he has a hunch about Theodore.’
‘Oh, come on. A hunch? You want us to go and search the River Ouse for your cat? He’s probably back at home by now, on our bed or snuggled up in his basket…’
‘Maybe,’ Emily said. ‘But I think we should split up. You go home and check if he’s there and I’ll keep looking in town. I might just have a walk down to the river. You never know. It’s unlike my dad to have hunches.’
‘What about Joseph?’
‘He’s going to have to stay with me, isn’t he? He’ll want a feed when he wakes up.’
‘You’re right,’ Jonathan said. ‘I’ll head off back home.’
‘Let me know if he’s there,’ Emily said. ‘Or if he’s not, for that matter.’
‘Will do,’ Jonathan said.
He noticed the worried expression in Emily’s eyes. He gave her a hug. ‘I’ll see you soon,’ he said. ‘We will find him.’
‘Yes,’ Emily said. ‘We will find him.’
Jonathan turned and began to walk the other way.
Emily put her mobile back in her pocket and pushed the pram past Fat Face, provider of ‘casual clothing for an outdoor lifestyle’ for people who don’t like going outside very much.
Standing in front of her, there was a little man dressed as a fireman with lipstick marks stamped on his cheeks. He smiled at her as she pushed the pram past.
◆◆◆
Ten minutes later, Miles Macavity exited Urban Outfitters.
Miles now wore a black corduroy Sherpa jacket and black jeans that he had only just managed to squeeze inside. On his feet he still had on his shiny black brogues. Over his shoulder he carried the large blue rucksack.
Next he went into Lakeland (‘kitchenware chain with innovative gadgets and cooking utensils, plus homewares and garden products’), bought a knife with an eight inch blade and tucked it into the side pocket of his rucksack.
Where There’s Smoke
Emily pushed the pram over the Blue Bridge, which connects St George’s Field to New Walk at the confluence of the Ouse and the Foss rivers. There were two people wearing Guy Fawkes masks loitering in the middle of the bridge. It was late afternoon, the skies grey, overcast, the ground wet from the earlier rain.
Could Theodore really have ended up in the river?
She stared at the ground as she passed the two Guys on the bridge. Somebody had spray-painted ‘Down with the system,’ on the bridge’s wooden deck in red paint.
Where did all this anger come from? Emily asked herself. The world’s not perfect, she understood, but why were people so hostile to each other? It was like nobody could agree on anything anymore.
She stared at Joseph’s innocent face, staring up at her from his pram. Noticing her gaze, he began to cry. His face turned a touch red and his eyebrows moved closer together.
Emily knew what it meant. He needed changing. Where am I supposed to change a baby round here? she wondered.
She pushed the pram onto New Walk and looked to her right at the river. The water was high. Branches and other debris sailed down on the water’s dark surface.
Even if Theodore had somehow managed to get in the river, what were the chances that she would be able to spot him? Jonathan might have been right. Her dad had had two large glasses of wine with his lunch and probably another as soon as he got home.
Joseph’s cries became more insistent.
‘I know, I know,’ Emily said.
But rather than turning round, she carried on, pushing the pram along the northern bank of the River Ouse.
She would find somewhere discreet where she could change Joseph. Then she would turn round and walk back to the city centre.
A firework went off in Rowntree Park on the opposite back. It screeched as it whizzed across the grey skies, bright green and then red. It exploded with a bang.
◆◆◆
‘You shut it!’ Milton said, raising a warning hand at the cat. ‘Don’t you be giving us away now. Not after I saved you and then fed you marshmallows.’
Theodore had smelled Joseph. His nappy contents were like a fingerprint to his highly developed olfactory senses. Unfortunately the firework had masked his cry for help.
There were several repeated bangs from outside the well. Theodore’s heart pounded in his chest. Bonfire Night was certainly not a night for a cat to be out. The smell of Joseph’s nappy began to recede into the distance.
‘If I get caught,’ Milton said, ‘a lot of people are going to get hurt. Something serious is going to go down tonight. That I am sure of. I’m the only one who can stop it.’
Theodore’s eyes widened.
‘It’s my brother, Miles,’ Milton went on. ‘He’s planning on doing something, something big. Bonfire Night’s going to end with a bang. That’s what he said. I’m not a hundred percent sure what he’s planning. But he told me that he was going to make a stand. Against the hypocrisy. Against the bullshit. Against the system that destroyed his career…
‘That’s why I had to get out of Full Sutton. They didn’t believe me. The guards laughed at me when I tried to tell them. But I knew. You see, some spice head had had a mobile phone smuggled in… Flew it in by drone.
‘I paid to borrow it. I phoned Miles and he told me. He knew I couldn’t do anything about it. That just made him happier. “There’s nothing you can do about it,” he said, laughing down the phone at me.
‘I knew I had to do something about it. You see, I’m not a bad guy. I’ve had my troubles. But I know right from wrong. Miles, on the other hand, is a deviant. He’s malicious. What he has in mind could be anything. I know he means war though. War against the anti-establishment that destroyed his banking career.
‘That’s
what he said to me. This is war. He’s going to target the protest. The Million Mask March.’
Theodore stared into Milton’s face. It was pink and stubbly. His eyes were ringed in grey. Was he telling the truth?
He’s making it up, came the voice in his head. And besides, even if his brother Miles was planning some terrible atrocity, do you really think that you could stop him? You’re just a big fluffy cat!
Outside the Well House, Theodore smelled Joseph returning, the smell still there but now only faint. She must have changed him, Theodore deduced. The nappy bagged and riding in the undercarriage of the pram.
He heard Emily call his name outside.
Just go to her and you’ll be home in a matter of minutes. You could ride home with little Joey in the pram, nice and snug in there. You could have a nice snack of biscuits when you get in and then get warm by the radiator. I’m here waiting for you!
Theodore looked back into Milton’s pink face. He made his decision.
There was truth in what Milton had told him. Why else would he have broken out of prison as he had and missed his breakfast? He would no doubt be caught sooner or later. He had broken out to stop his brother Miles committing whatever act of terror he was plotting.
◆◆◆
Emily pushed the pram back along New Walk towards the Blue Bridge. She had managed to find a secluded spot to change Joseph, who was now quite happily staring out of the pram at his surroundings; the dirty nappy tucked away in the bottom of the pram until they came across a bin. A firework exploded in the sky overhead and Joseph clapped his hands and laughed at the shooting colours in the darkening sky.
She approached the Blue Bridge again. She saw two police officers on horseback.
As she drew near, one of them said, ‘You haven’t seen anything suspicious up there, have you?’
‘No,’ Emily said.
‘You do know there’s an escaped convict on the run?’
‘Yes, I heard,’ Emily said.
‘It’s best that you weren’t out,’ the police officer said. ‘Especially by yourself… He could be anywhere.’
‘I was looking for my cat.’
More fireworks went off from the opposite bank of the river.
‘It’s not a good night for a cat to be out,’ the police officer said. ‘It should be locked inside…’
‘I could say the same for your escaped convict,’ Emily said under her breath.
Joseph was staring up at the horses with wonder. Then another firework went off, a string of colours appearing in the darkening sky.
‘Ohhhh,’ Joseph said and clapped his hands together.
‘You get yourselves home,’ the police officer said to Emily. ‘Your cat’s probably there waiting for you.’
‘I was thinking the same,’ Emily said.
‘And you haven’t seen anything suspicious up there?’
Emily glanced back the way she had come.
‘There was smoke,’ she said, ‘coming out of an old building, up there on the left.’
‘How far?’
Emily gestured into the distance. ‘Back there,’ she said. ‘Not far. Five minute walk at most.’
‘We’d better check it out,’ the police officer said, and the two mounted officers trotted past Emily and Joseph towards the Well House.
◆◆◆
Theodore heard the clack of hooves approaching. He smelled the musk of the horses’ coats. He looked across at Milton, who was putting on his now dry clothes and shoes.
The fire had died down but wisps of smoke still curled from it and out through the entrance of the Well House.
He miaowed at Milton that the police were on their way and no doubt they would be interested in what was the cause of the smoke from this old well.
‘You shut it,’ Milton said. ‘I’ve told you…’
But Theodore carried on miaowing, staring at the entrance to the Well House.
‘Horses?’ Milton said, hearing the clacking of hooves. ‘Well, why didn’t you say? I think it’s time we made a move…’
Milton pulled on his shoes and got to his feet.
The horses were almost at the Well House.
Theodore realised that if they didn’t make it out, Milton would be arrested with no chance to get away.
But then what about his brother Miles? Only Milton knew of his brother’s evil plot. With Milton put back inside, there would be nobody to stop him. Theodore didn’t know what Miles looked like. He had to make sure that Milton stayed free long enough to stop his brother.
Theodore could smell the musk of the horses grew stronger. They were almost upon them. He slipped through the metal bars of the Well House gate. But it was too late.
The mounted police were already in front of them. There were two enormous beasts, their hooves capable of smashing the life out of him with one blow. Behind him he heard a rusty squeak as Milton swung open the metal gate, ready to make his escape.
Theodore raised his tail high. His fur stood on end, making him appear bigger than he was. He stared into the big dark brown eyes of the horse that loomed over him. He opened his mouth and hissed.
The horse looked down and noticed the small furry animal at her feet. Something inside her told her it would be a mistake to harm this creature that some humans took into their homes. The rider on her back urged her on, but he didn’t know about the cat in front of her. So she reared up on her hind legs and whinnied.
The police officer was caught unaware and lost his balance, grabbing onto his colleague. They both fell to the ground.
Theodore looked on as the riderless horses whinnied excitedly and the riders began to get to their feet. I didn’t know I had it in me, he thought.
‘Quick,’ Milton said. ‘This is our chance.’
He slipped out of the Well House and darted back along the path. Theodore set off after him.
The police officer got up from the ground. ‘Not sure what got into her,’ Paul said, helping his colleague to her feet.
‘Something must have spooked her,’ Maria said grabbing the reins of her horse.
Wisps of smoke were still coming from the Well House.
‘We’d better check out that building,’ Maria said. ‘It must have been what the woman with the pram was on about.’
She drew her horse over and peered inside.
‘Anything in there?’
‘There’s a fire. An empty bag of sweets… Looks like they might be marshmallows. Some burnt sticks…’
‘Sounds like kids,’ Paul said. ‘They must have scarpered when they heard us coming.’
‘Here, hold this,’ Maria said, handing her horse’s reins to her colleague. ‘There’s something else…’
She stooped down and pulled open the metal grill.
‘What is it?’ Paul said.
‘Only one of those Guy Fawkes masks. One of those that the protesters are all wearing.’
‘There’s going to be trouble tonight; I can feel it in my bones.’
‘They’ve bussed up a thousand of them from London to cause trouble. Anarchists. Radicalists. Animal rights activists, badger baiters, Radiohead fans… You name it. We’ve got it coming.’
‘We’ve got twenty extra officers from Leeds, mainly PCSOs. It’s a bloody joke. If it kicks off, how are we going to cope?’
‘And on top of everything, we have an escaped convict on the loose…’
‘I did hear that if things get out of hand, they are going to issue us with Heckler and Koch water blasters.’
‘I’ve always wanted to have a go with one of them. Wash the stupid grins off their faces!’
‘Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.’
Maria shook her head. ‘I say we get them all in a narrow street like the Shambles and teapot them.’
‘You mean ‘kettle’ them, don’t you?’
‘Isn’t that what I said? Kettling… Tea-potting… Tea-bagging… Aren’t they the same thing?’
‘I think tea-bagging might
have another meaning,’ Paul said. ‘Are you sure you didn’t bang your head when you fell?’
Maria raised a hand to her helmet. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘All this talk of teapots and kettles, how about we have a nice cup of tea,’ Paul said. ‘I brought my flask. A cup of Yorkshire Tea and you’ll feel right as rain again.’
‘A proper brew,’ Maria said. ‘Now you’re talking!’
‘I double-bagged it,’ Paul said, undoing his knapsack to get to his flask.
‘Well, better to be safe than sorry.’
‘I meant my flask,’ Paul said. ‘I put two teabags in it.’
‘Sorry,’ Maria said, ‘I thought you were talking about something else.’
The Pub That Famously Floods
The Kings Arms on King’s Staith is a public house famous for flooding. Whenever York floods, which is quite regularly, library images of the pub are shown on the television news. But the pub located next to Ouse Bridge is well prepared for such flood events.
It has been well and truly flood-proofed. Electric points are at least four feet off the ground. Soft furnishings and furniture can be quickly removed to higher ground, to be returned once flood levels go down.
However, as the pub is so famous for being flooded, tourists expect it to be flooded all year round. They arrive with their wellies on, and the pub does not disappoint. The pub now retains the floodwater year round, so customers have to wade to the bar.
Theodore peered through the window from the stone windowsill. Milton was standing beside him, also looking in.
There were several regulars sitting on bar stools, their boots dangling in the black water that stood two feet above the floor. Tourists and out-of-towners had also come prepared, wearing waders and waterproofs, taking photographs of themselves with their feet below water. Sodden beermats floated on the water’s surface. In the corner by the door, there was a flood marker, showing the highest levels the floodwaters had reached.
2000 had been a particularly good year, Theodore noted. If you were into flooding, which he certainly wasn’t.
A customer at the bar, his back to them, ordered a pint of lager and a bag of pork scratchings. The landlord tossed a bag of deep-fried pieces of pig fat onto the bar and then went to pour the pint. But the barrel was almost empty and the glass was left with just an inch of foam in it.
