by John Patrick
Madadh searched for Cormag for hours. He searched under tables, through piles of jumble, in kitchen cupboards and in the toilet and when he didn't find him he started again. The day was getting late but he hadn't given up hope.
Later that evening, Alan reluctantly returned with Elvis to arrange the trip to the pharmacy. They were still arguing about how best to go about it.
'No!' snapped Alan 'I'm not taking any of those freaks with us.' He stood outside the church hall with hands on hips in the soft glow of the late evening sun.
'But you said yourself, we need someone to keep watch!' argued Elvis, reaching for the door handle.
'You go in there and ask one of them, then I'm not gonna help you Elvis. They'll just draw attention. How can we walk the streets with them with us for God's sake?'
Elvis took his hand away from the door. 'But what if we need some help? What if...' Elvis fell silent. Shuffling footsteps were approaching. 'Shhh' Elvis pressed a finger against his lips.
Geoffrey rounded the corner. 'Good evening gentleman.' he said as he slipped off his white leather driving gloves and tucked them into the top of his cream slacks. 'Beautiful day for a drive.' He tapped firmly on the glass door.
Alan shot a horrified glance towards Elvis and started to back away from the door. Elvis tried stepping in front of Geoffrey and ushering him away.
'There's no one in there.' he explained. 'This place hasn't been used for years.'
'I've come for my friend.' explained Geoffrey and leant around Elvis and tapped again. 'We're going for a drive in my car.'
In the hall Le Clerc was waiting impatiently. He heard the knock and came dashing outside followed by a small crowd.
Brock, Elizabeth and the inn-keeper had agreed an unspoken uncomfortable truce with Wooldridge. As they followed Le Clerc through the door Brock positioned himself alongside Elizabeth, his chest puffed out and shoulders back. Inside, Madadh was still searching for Cormag.
'Geoffrey, you made it!' shouted Le Cler excitedly.
'Geoffrey? You know him?' asked Elvis.
'Oh no!' groaned Alan. 'Get those freaks back out of sight for God's sake!'
'So you must be the boy with the medicine.' said Wooldridge. 'Where is it?'
'What? I haven't got it yet.' said Elvis. 'We're going to get it now, hopefully.'
'Hopefully?' said Brock. 'What do you mean hopefully?'
'I mean it might not be that easy, that's all. I'm taking some big risks for you lot, I hope you realise that.'
'I will provide assistance.' said Wooldridge decisively.
'Right, then I'm coming too.' declared Brock.
'An' me!' shouted Samuel. Elizabeth grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him back.
'We can't walk through the streets with them!' groaned Alan. 'Everyone's gonna notice us! I'm going home.'
'Walk?' said Geoffrey. 'Why walk when we travel in style?' He dangled the keys to Austin Princess in the air.
Twenty minutes later they were stuttering along the High Street. Le Clerc sat in the front alongside Geoffrey. He was like a three year old, eagerly asking questions about the switches and dials and the gear stick and anything else that caught his eye. The radio was his favourite; he happily dialled between channels until he accidentally pushed the Perry Como cassette inside the machine. When 'And I love you so...' came droning from the speakers, Alan drew the line. He leant forward from the back seat and switched it off.
'For God's sake, let's just get this over with.' Alan groaned, crammed into the back with Elvis Brock and Wooldridge. 'It's there, past the pedestrian crossing. Look, that one, with the big plastic thing in the window. ' Alan was pointing at a chemist shop, the front window consumed by a giant red nose, the words 'Say no to hay fever!' in green across it. 'There's a little road just past it where you can park.'
Geoffrey pulled to a halt in the narrow alleyway.
'You wait here with your carriage.' ordered Wooldridge.
'I'll keep the engine running. It's been a long time since me and the old girl got up to mischief!' said Geoffrey, fondly tapping the dashboard. 'If you hear me toot twice, it means we've got to go fast!'
Elvis, Alan Brock and Wooldridge tumbled out of the car and headed for the rear of the pharmacy. Alan produced a set of spare keys and began undoing the dead locks on the reinforced back door. He fumbled through the bunch finding the key for each lock in turn until finally he'd undone them all.
Geoffrey pulled up alongside the back door with Le Clerc, the engine of his Princess growling, ready for a quick escape.
Alan nervously pushed open the rear pharmacy door. The burglar alarm began to beep.
'You go and find that stuff and be quick.' said Alan 'I'll switch this thing off .'
Elvis hurried along the short corridor into the shop and pulled a plastic carrier bag from his pocket. There were rows upon rows of immaculate white shelves stocked with small pill packets and plastic containers, liquids and creams. He checked his list. Doxycycline. Where was that? He followed along the shelf. Drugs were stacked alphabetically. He found the sticker on the shelf and swept everything above it in his carrier bag. The alarm was still beeping, the noises were getting faster and louder.
'The code's not working!' shouted Alan. 'He must have changed the bloody number! Shit! Hurry!'
Wooldridge was walking around the shop in fascination. He was picking up bottles of perfume, boxes of tissues, packets of nappies and feeling them, shaking and sniffing them. Brock walked two steps behind. He paid no interest to the goods on the shelves. His focus was on Wooldridge.
An ear bursting siren sounded. Wooldridge dropped the bottle of Gaviscon onto the floor. Thick chalky liquid oozed over the carpet. Blue lights began to flash on the front wall of the shop. Alan burst in from the back corridor.
'I can't do it! Elvis, come on! We've got to get out.'
'Cipro...flox' mouthed Elvis before throwing a load more boxes into his carrier bag.
'Elvis!' shouted Alan grabbing his arm, 'We've got to go!'
Outside, passers by were peering through the door. In the alleyway Geoffrey sounded his horn twice.
'Elvis!'
'Just one more.' said Elvis shrugging free from of Alan's grip. 'Co-trim...'
'Now Elvis!'
'Here it is.' The carrier bag was overflowing.
'You two! Out now!' Alan bawled at Wooldridge and Brock.
Geoffrey had his head out of the car window. 'Time to go boys!'
They dived into the back of the waiting Princess. Geoffrey slammed it into first gear, the engine roared, the car lurched forward and then stalled.
'Sorry.' said Geoffrey 'It's been a long time.' He turned the key again. The car coughed and spluttered but didn't start. Geoffrey tried again. More splutters but still the engine failed.
'Don't worry.' reassured Geoffrey. 'It often does this.' He tried again. This time the big old engine fired up. Geoffrey put his foot to the floor and the car hopped and jumped out of the alley and back onto the main street.
'Did you get what you needed?' asked Geoffrey.
'Most of it, I think.' replied Elvis, looking at the bewildering array of different bottles and boxes in his bag.
'Get down!' ordered Geoffrey.
'What?' replied Wooldridge.
'Down, hide, now! Quick!'
Ahead two police cars were hurrying down the road, blue lights flashing.
Elvis, Alan, Brock and Wooldridge struggled to squeeze down out of sight on the back seat.
Geoffrey smiled and waved as he passed the cars. 'I think we're in the clear. You can get back up if you like.' Geoffrey kept one eye on his rear-view mirror. 'Oh-oh. I spoke too soon.'
One of the patrol cars did a quick u-turn and then charged back up the street towards them.
'Hold tight!' warned Geoffrey. He pushed his right foot to the floor. The old Princess accelerated up the street but it was no match for the police car; it was gaining ground quickly. Geoffrey swerved into an alley way. The old car roared up the narrow p
assage, mirrors scraping against the brick walls either side.
'Oh dear' moaned Geoffrey. 'That's going to be an expensive trip to Halford's'.
The police car screeched into the lane behind them, close enough now for Geoffrey to see the two grinning faces in the front seats. Ahead was the back of a pub. A fire door opened and a man staggered out carrying a tower of empty crates. Geoffrey stuck his head out of the window and pointed back at the chasing police car.
'Geoffrey!' shouted the man 'What you up to, y'old rogue?'
As soon as the Princess had passed, the man allowed the pile of crates to topple across the alleyway. The police car smashed into the plastic crates before skidding to a halt.
'Wow! Why did he do that?' asked Alan.
'That's Norman. We've kept him in frozen chips and cling peaches for years.' explained Geoffrey. 'There's not a towel in that place that hasn't got 'NHS' on it.' he added with a little pride.
Norman was now arguing about the cost of his broken crates.
'You gotta be bloody joking!' growled the officer as he hurled a crate over the wall. 'I've a good mind to shove one of your bloody crates...'
The radio crackled.
The policeman snatched the handset from the dashboard. 'Roger, he's just turned south onto Cook Street. We will be in pursuit again in one minute.' He turned back to Norman. 'Don't be surprised if you get a little visit next week!' he hissed and booted another crate down the alley.
Geoffrey's experience as a getaway driver had taught him not to be complacent. He weaved in and out of the back streets before turning back onto the main road again. But minutes later, there was another blue flashing light ahead.
'I think we may have to hide away a minute boys.' Geoffrey swerved into a multi-storey arcade car park. It was beginning to get dark outside and the car park was gloomy. He squealed up a couple of levels and found an empty space. Elvis jumped out and peered over the concrete wall. Below, the police car was screeching into the car park.
'It's coming in!' shouted Elvis.
The police car began to crawl along the rows of parked cars.
'What we gonna do?' whinged Alan. 'There's no other way out! If I get caught I'm dead! I'm tellin' them that you made me do it Elvis. I never wanted to do this in the first place! You promised you'd take the rap.'
'We wait.' said Geoffrey calmly. 'We wait until he gets to this floor and then when he's around the far side we drive out.'
'No way!' said Alan. 'I'm gone. I'm not staying here.'He climbed over Brock's lap and out of the car. 'I'm sorry Elvis but I don't know anything about this.'
The police car rolled quietly onto their level. They all slid down so that just Geoffrey's eyes peeped out.
'Wait for it.' whispered Geoffrey.
The police car was sent away from them by the one-way system. Geoffrey bided his time then flicked on the headlights and roared the car into life. It lurched out of the parking bay and back into the spiral exit road. The policemen spotted his dash. They switched on the blue light and squealed after him. Their path was blocked by late night shoppers with trolleys and parents with pushchairs. The driver turned on his siren. A shocked child ran then fell, grazing her knee. She sat on the ground and screamed.
The policeman lowered his window and turned off the siren. 'Can you move her for God's sake? Can't you see we're in a hurry?'
The child's father was unimpressed. He stomped up to the police car and slammed his fist on the roof. 'What the hell do you think you're doing? That's police violence that is!' he shouted pointing at his crying daughter.
'I'll show you some police violence if you don't get out the fucking way!'
'I'm getting your number. You ain't gettin' away with this!'
Geoffrey took his chance and escaped back on to the street. But it wasn't long before the police car was back on his tail. Geoffrey swerved into side roads, the old car rolling like a yacht in a storm, he criss-crossed car parks, doubled back on himself, but there was no escape, the police car was still in tow.
'Hold on, I've got an idea.' mumbled Geoffrey.
Ahead football stadium floodlights stood out against the dimming sky. The streets were lined with parked cars; subdued roars and applause echoed through the side streets. Ahead, two middle-aged minibus drivers sat on up-turned milk-crates playing cards, just as they did every second Saturday afternoon throughout the season. As Geoffrey roared closer, he blasted his horn. The men looked up from their game. Geoffrey reached an arm out the window, pointing behind then gesturing in a circling motion. The men looked at Geoffrey, the ensuing police car and then headed for their vehicles. The police car meantime was gaining. Geoffrey pulled a sharp left, then shortly after another. A second police car joined the chase, siren wailing. They were getting closer. Geoffrey turned left again.
'We're going round in circles! We were here two minutes ago!' shouted Elvis. 'They're right behind us.'
'That's the idea!' Geoffrey seemed to be enjoying himself.
The chasing police car raced alongside them, the driver pointing angrily to pull over. Geoffrey kept his focus straight ahead. A white minibus lurched out into the road in front, blocking one lane. The policeman stamped on his breaks, screeching the car to a halt in a cloud of smoke. Geoffrey roared on by. Another mini-bus reversed out blocking the other half of the road. The second police car screeched to a halt. The policeman put his head out the window and bawled at them to move. The minibus drivers both got out of their vehicles and lifted their respective bonnets and began fiddling with the engines.
'What the fuck you both doing?' roared the policeman. 'You can't both be broken down. Move it! Now!'
'Yeh, what's the chances, eh?' smirked one of the drivers.
The policeman jumped out of his vehicle and slammed shut the bonnet of the nearest minibus. A crowd of departing football fans was gathering at the roadside. The policeman turned and shoved the driver back towards his cab; he fell to the ground. The crowd gasped. The driver rolled onto his back holding his knee. The crowd booed. The policeman waved them away impatiently but then noticed lines of mobile 'phone cameras pointing towards him. He crouched down.
'If you don't shift your arse in thirty seconds you're going to the fucking nick!' he hissed. 'Do I make myself clear?'
But by now Geoffrey was away, down a side road and lost into a sea of cars on a busy dual-carriageway.
'How did that happen?' asked Elvis.
'Norman's friends,' explained Geoffrey. 'Nice boys.'
Half an hour later Geoffrey dropped them all back at the church. 'Now take it from me.' he warned with an excited glint in his eye. 'Lie low tonight. The police will be looking for us.' He changed back the licence plates over before heading for home.
Elvis tiptoed up to his bedroom. He poured the bag of medicines onto his rug. There was an endless variety of brands and strengths, tablets, capsules and liquids. Where could he begin? He shoved them under his bed and climbed under the covers. He'd need his sleep. It was going to be a big day tomorrow he thought to himself.
He had no idea just how big it was going to be.
Chapter 14
