by Duncan James
***
It took Jim Farlow just over three weeks to complete his task, working long hours, seven days a week. It suited his new employers, and it certainly suited him, as it kept him out of Pentonville, where he was far from comfortable.
On his last day, there was inevitably a mountain of paperwork to be done, forms to sign and so on, to secure his early release, but eventually they gave him twenty quid, and led him out of the prison and into freedom. Both Alistair Vaughan and Philip Walton were there to see him go.
Jim took a deep breath of fresh air, as if it was somehow different from that inside.
“Where will you go now?” asked Walton.
“Home, I suppose,” replied Farlow, as if he hadn’t really thought about it. “I’d better ring my Mum from somewhere, I suppose.”
“What I suggest,” said Vaughan helpfully, “is that you stroll up the road to the tube station - it’s only about five minutes from here. You can get the Piccadilly Line to Kings Cross, and change there to the Northern Line for Highgate. Hundreds of phone boxes at Kings Cross, too.”
“I think I’ll do that,” said Farlow, and set off with his black sack over his shoulder, in something of a daze. He couldn’t believe he was free at last to do what he liked again, to go where he liked, when he liked.
He didn’t see Vaughan nod towards the two men across the street, or notice them follow him.
He went down the lift at Caledonian Road station, and turned left on to the westbound platform. The indicator said, - “1 Heathrow 3 mins.” There was neat little icon of an aeroplane next to ‘Heathrow’. Not long to wait. He ambled down the platform towards the back of the train. It was rush hour and already quite crowded, but he remembered that the train would be less full at the back. He looked at the adverts across the track, something he hadn’t seen for four years. Insurance companies, new films, French wine, Eurostar, and airlines offering cheap fares. Jim thought he would take advantage of those, as soon as he was settled back home. He felt the breeze on his face as the train approached, and saw its lights reflect off the silver ribbons of rail before he saw the train itself speeding round the gentle curve into the station.
As the train screamed to an emergency stop, the two men slid away un-noticed onto the other platform and then up the lift to the street. Nobody saw them go, or drive away on their motorbike which they had parked nearby.
A lot of people were going to miss their planes that evening. And Jim would never take one anywhere, cheap or not.
