A Time To Pay

by David Woods

  Venk had telephoned his contact in Calais instructing that he should follow the motorbike until it reached Belgium, and then retrieve the diamonds. He said he would join him later at their normal meeting place. His contact was another Belgian called Van Hagen, who usually took the stolen goods across the border into Belgium with a lorry driver called de Vere, who hid the jewellery amongst his other merchandise. Van Hagen was pleased with this new arrangement because it meant he would not be at risk at the border crossing, but there was still an element of risk when it came to extracting the diamonds from the boy. He thought it would not be too much trouble as there were two of them, but there was a possibility that he might not have the stones. Van Hagen parked his Citroen in the road leading to the ferry terminal, where all the vehicles had to pass.

  Brian rode up to the French customs post and stopped. An official quickly glanced at his passport, and waved him on. Brian rode through Calais very slowly, getting used to riding on the right-hand side of the road. He glanced down at the list of towns with the relevant road numbers fixed to the top of his petrol tank, and the first town was Dunkerque. Once he had cleared the town and got on to the open road, he felt his confidence return and started to enjoy the ride. The road was good with very little traffic, and he was able to increase his speed to around seventy miles an hour, but soon had to slow down on arrival at a village. As he passed through he was staggered to see a bullock pulling a cart, and then as he left the village he noticed the very small fields and the primitive farming methods.

  Out on the open road again, and with a long distance to cover that day, it gave him a good excuse to get a move on. The speedo needle hovered between eighty and ninety miles an hour, and up to this point, the two men in the Citroen following at a safe distance behind had an easy job, but now it had become difficult to keep the motorcycle in sight. At this rate their only chance would be to catch up in towns. Brian was soon riding through Dunkerque and had noticed the admiring glances of the young men and girls, some even stopped to study the machine at traffic lights. The Royal Enfield Constellation was not a popular bike, but the Airflow model was quite rare and he was proud to own it. Soon after leaving Dunkerque, on the road to Ostend, he slowed down for the customs post and both the French and Belgian side waved him through.

  The driver and passenger of the following Citroen were not so lucky. They had their documents examined in detail, and when they finally got away Van Hagen became impatient.

  “How are we going to catch him up now?”

  “We’ll catch him up in Ostend. I know a short cut to the road to Bragge.”

  They only just arrived in time to see the red motorcycle pass by.

  From Ostend Brian took the road to Bragge. He was getting used to these Belgian towns, but very wary of the cobbled streets. Fortunately, the weather was still fine and he was able to make good progress, stopping for petrol just after leaving the town. As soon as he got off the bike a young chap dashed across the forecourt to serve him. Brian indicated that it needed filling up, and the windscreen was cleaned. He was so engrossed in watching the cleaning procedure, that he failed to notice the Citroen that drove past at high speed screeching to a halt further down the road. By the time it had turned around and driven into the garage entrance Brian was riding away.

  The Citroen turned into the garage but got stuck behind a lorry, having lost sight of the bike Van Hagen said.

  “What the hell would it be like if he knew we were after him?”

  “I doubt we’d stand a chance.”

  Brian slowed down on spotting a signboard with an arrow to the left, indicating rooms to let and there was a lot of other information he could not understand. This will do, he thought, and about a mile down the lane he found a sign pointing down a farm drive. It was only about 100 yards to the farmyard and house. Chickens scattered as he pulled up.

  Van Hagen noticed the bike going down the lane, and pulled up outside the farm entrance. He cursed loudly.

  “We’ll have to come back tomorrow morning. I hope it’s going to be worth it.”

  His colleague had voiced his doubts earlier, and was in favour of giving up.

  “We have been chasing this bike all day, and I can’t see tomorrow being any different.”

  “We’ll get him tomorrow.”

  As Brian walked rather stiffly to the large door it opened, and a round looking lady with rosy cheeks greeted him. She smiled and said something he could not understand.

  “Hello, have you got a vacant room?”

  “Yes you are welcome. Come in.”

  He walked in thinking what luck, she speaks English. She introduced herself as Lucy Van Meer and then introduced her daughter, Anna. Brian was pleasantly surprised to find himself shaking hands with a dark haired girl of about twenty with beautiful brown eyes, about five feet two and with a nice figure. He was stuck for words.

  “I am very pleased to meet you” Anna said.

  “You speak perfect English”

  “Well, I am a language student.”

  “Oh, where do you go to college?”

  “Antwerp. Please let me show you your room.”

  Brian went out and unfastened his holdall. He brought it in and Anna showed him a large room with a double bed.

  “It’s very nice, but I will only be here one night.”

  “That is fine. Where are you going?”

  “Antwerp.”

  “You can put your bike in the barn tonight.”

  Brian followed Anna and pushed the bike into a small wooden barn. As he pulled it on to its centre stand he noticed her gazing at the bike.

  “It is big. It must be very heavy.”

  “It’s no problem really, especially when you’re riding. You don’t notice the weight at all.”

  He noticed an old looking Vespa scooter with the engine panels off.

  “Is that yours?”

  “Yes, but it does not work.”

  “Would you like me to have a look at it for you?”

  “It is very kind of you to offer, but there is no time. Dinner will be ready in half an hour. You will have dinner with us?”

  Brian was delighted and accepted gratefully.

  After a very filling meal of beef stew with dumplings, he felt the need for a short walk before returning to the barn to check his bike. All was well except that he had to clean the oil off where it had leaked from the head gasket. Before leaving he went over to the scooter for a closer look, but unfortunately it was too dark to attempt any possible repair.

  The evening was spent sitting at the large kitchen table talking to Anna while her mother prepared food for the morning. She seemed very interested to hear about his life on the farm, and he was amazed when he realised he had been talking for nearly two hours, as twenty minutes had been his previous record chatting with a girl. Anna seemed to make him relax and talk, so he found himself telling her all about the difficulties his parents were in.

  During the evening Mr Van Meer appeared. He was a short stocky, grey haired man in his fifties with a deeply lined weather beaten face. As he kicked off his boots, grey woolly socks were revealed crinkled up around his ankles. He sank into a large wooden chair with arm rests at the head of the table, obviously reserved for him. Anna told her father about Brian’s situation which he seemed to understand, and nodded his head gravely. By this time Brian was beginning to feel very tired and decided it was time to say goodnight.

  Early next morning Brian was awakened by a throbbing sound which made him sit up in bed. He realised it was a milking machine vacuum pump and smiled when he realised he did not have to get up to do the milking. Breakfast was at 8.30 or so he had been told the previous evening, but when he arrived the kitchen was empty. He walked outside to a damp morning with pools of water everywhere, as it had rained during the night.

  The cowshed across the yard was an old fashi
oned double sided barn and he was amazed to find the family hand milking the cows. Anna got up from a milking stool.

  “Good morning. Sorry about breakfast, but the machine is not working and we can’t milk without vacuum.”

  “Let me have a look.”

  Anna led him to a lean-to on the side of the cowshed containing a vacuum pump and motor.

  Brian could see it was the same type as he was used to. He pressed the starter and the pump croaked like a sick frog.

  “The vanes are stuck. Have you got any diesel fuel and a pipe wrench?”

  Anna disappeared, returning a few minutes later with her father carrying the appropriate tool and a can of diesel. Brian removed the suction pipe from the pump and then drained out all the oil. Mr. Van Meer was beginning to look very concerned and muttering to Anna. He had only bought the machine a year ago and this was the first time it had failed. Brian started the pump and began to pour the diesel oil into the suction side. It made a knocking noise, which got louder as he poured in more, and a great deal of smoke came out of the exhaust pipe. Mr. Van Meer bellowed, waving his arms at Brian and Anna looked frightened. Brian poured a little more diesel in, which produced even more smoke and Anna’s father stamped his feet in the mud, splashing dirt and mud everywhere and shouting even louder. Brian thought he was going to erupt, so he let the pump run to clean out the diesel and then stopped it draining the sump again. He rapidly filled it with vacuum pump oil and replaced the vacuum pipe.

  Anna was pale and silent, obviously upset by her father’s outburst, which Brian was glad he could not understand. He started the pump which sounded good, and looked at the vacuum gauge which confirmed all was well. Anna’s father looked amazed and stamped off in the direction of the cows. She heaved a sigh of relief and gave Brian a hug, but he could not reciprocate because his hands were filthy. He kissed her forehead instead, experiencing a warm loving feeling inside as he buried his face in her hair and breathed in her perfume. They remained together a few more seconds until the sound of the milking buckets clanking on the cowshed floor brought them back to reality. Anna said.

  “I will get your breakfast now.”

  “That’ll be nice.”

  After breakfast Brian reluctantly prepared to leave. He paid his bill and turned to Anna.

  “I’d like to see you again.”

  “I am going to Antwerp to-day as soon as my father has finished his chores. Shall we meet in the centre of town?”

  “Why don’t I take you? It will save your father making the trip.”

  Anna seemed pleased and went off to tell her mother. She came back smiling, and as they left her father came across to Brian. He shook hands, saying something which Anna interpreted as.

  “Thanks for your help. I am very grateful.”

  Anna was wearing her scooter riding gear, and a rucksack containing clothing and other items she needed for the autumn term at college. She stayed at a friend’s flat during the week, returning at weekends to the farm.

  Brian felt happy with Anna on the back of his bike. They went slowly down the drive so as to let her get used to being a pillion passenger, and as he felt her body against his back he could not believe his good luck. When he turned left into the lane he noticed a black Citroen parked just down the road. They were half a mile from the farm, taking a left hand bend when they felt a violent bump from behind and the rear wheel slid sideways. Instantly they were thrown off the bike, sliding across the wide wet grass verge, and as soon as he came to a halt Brian looked around for Anna, finding her five yards away. He ran and helped her to her feet, apologising at the same time.

  “Oh Anna, I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?”

  “I am all right.” She stammered in a very shaky voice.

  Two men walked up to them, one was a tall thin man in his early thirties with fair hair and carrying a pistol. The other man was younger and fatter with black hair and carrying a cudgel. Brian could not comprehend what was happening, feeling shocked and trembling. The man with the gun waved them over to where the bike was laying and gestured to Brian to pick it up, which he did, glancing at it quickly for damage. None was apparent except a bent rear mudguard and a lot of grass stuck to the fairing. The man gestured again for him to push the bike towards a field gate, said something to Anna and she opened the gate. Slipping on the wet grass as he pushed the bike through, Brian lent it against a tree and looked at Anna, noticing she was pale and trembling. The man again said something to her and she looked at Brian.

  “He said you must hand over the diamonds or we will both be killed.”

  “Tell him I’ll do anything he wants, if he promises not to hurt you.”

  Anna rapidly interpreted and the men both nodded.

  Brian immediately started undoing the toolbox lid, his hands trembling, and he felt a dull ache in stomach. When he handed over both bags of stones, the man with the gun put them in his jacket pockets and gestured with a wave of his pistol towards the car. They sat huddled together in the back of the Citroen feeling stunned. Brian’s left leg felt wet where mud and grass had stuck to his jeans, and Anna was rubbing her left leg.

  “Are you sure you’re not hurt. I’m sorry about this. I can’t believe it’s happening.”

  “It’s just a bruise.”

  Brian moved closer so their legs were touching. He held her hand and felt her body shaking, her face was pale and stern with lips pinched close together. What have I done? He thought, and the deep feeling of guilt which engulfed him made him feel very sick.

  They travelled in silence for about twenty minutes, pulling up outside a broken down old house. It was set back from the road and half hidden by trees, half the tiles on the roof were missing and the windows had lost their glass. The man with the gun gestured that they should get out and walk across to the house. The house was dark, and it smelt damp and musty. Anna spoke to the man, who replied, waving them towards the stairs. She looked petrified.

  “They are going to hold us here until they get further instructions.” She whispered nervously.

  There were two iron single beds with straw mattresses in the room, and when the man with the gun spoke again to Anna, she sat on the first bed. The other man began to tie her arms to the frame. Brian moved nearer, and the sight of Anna being tied up made him so angry, but the gun was still pointed at him only a yard away.

  Having secured Anna the man grinned as he bent over her, checking the tightness of the rope and pulling it tighter. She screamed as it cut into her flesh. Brian felt a flash of anger go through him and could contain himself no longer. He grabbed the gun with his left hand, pushing it to one side, and punched the man in the ribs as hard as he could. He heard a cracking sound as the man collapsed to the floor dropping the gun and groaning. The other man lunged himself at Brian, knocking him to the floor, and Brian found himself pinned down with the man on top of him, his fist drawn back about to deliver a blow to the head. Brian reacted instinctively, pushing his left shoulder up and throwing the man off balance, his head falling against the iron bedstead. He slumped forward as Brian got up and dived on him, crashing his forearm against the back of the man’s head, causing his nose to smash on to the floor. He wrenched the man’s arms behind his back, and tied them together with the rope meant for him and then secured it to the end of the bed. A trickle of blood was running down the man’s face and Brian thought he must have broken his nose. The first man was still groaning, clutching his side, and Brian could see he would be no more trouble, but kicked the gun down the stairs as an extra precaution. He tried to untie Anna, but was trembling so much he could not manage it, so had to cut the rope with his penknife. Anna maintained a stunned silence and her white face looked grim.

  They hurried out of the house and Brian said.

  “Let’s use their car.”

  The keys were still in it, so Brian crunched it into gear and lurched away from the old house, and sai
d “Do you know the way back?”

  “Yes. I will give you directions.”

  He drove slowly and again repeated “I’m so sorry about all this”

  She started crying and he felt terrible. They dumped the car in a field entrance and walked to the bike.

  “I’ll take you back and explain everything.”

  “But what are you going to say?”

  “We had a puncture and were thrown off.”

  “And I suppose you repaired it?”

  A faint smile appeared on her face.

  “Something like that.”

  They rode into the farmyard and into the barn. Mrs Van Meer rushed across and looked shocked as she gazed at the couple. Anna spoke to her mother in their own language, which seemed to calm the older lady, and Brian was invited to stay for the night. Anna said she would wash his jeans.

  After lunch Brian cleaned the mud and grass off the bike fairing, and was pleased to find no damage other than a few scratches. The rear mudguard was soon bent straight, and he turned his attention to the scooter. He removed the carburettor and cleaned out the dirt, which he thought most likely the problem. Next he checked the plug and points, and then after re-assembling and checking the petrol he kicked it over. It started after three kicks so he rode it around the yard twice, making sure the gears worked. Anna was delighted and ran across to the barn. Brian put the scooter on its stand and looked at her.

  “Please let me explain.”

  “Very well, but it had better be good.”

  They sat on hay bales and he told her the full story, Anna interrupting to ask questions when she could not understand, and when he had finished he apologised again.

  “I just didn’t know anyone was after me, if I had known I wouldn’t have offered you a lift.”

  After thinking for a moment, she said.

  “I believe you.”

  He was relieved and also glad to be rid of the two bags of diamonds.

  “What are you going to do with the stones still hidden on the bike?”