by Mark Timlin
‘You couldn’t go home,’ he said. ‘You don’t know who might have been waiting.’
That was true at least. ‘At least I could’ve got some cash,’ I said.
He grinned. ‘I told you I’ve got enough.’ He pulled a fat wallet out of his jacket pocket and riffled through a wad of fifty-pound notes that stuck out of the top. ‘Just relax.’
‘Any sign of the children?’ I asked.
‘No. Not yet. Let them sleep.’
‘And then what?’ I asked. ‘Seriously. There seems to be no solution to this mess apart from them getting as far away from her father as possible. I mean abroad whatever she says about having the child here. Spain or somewhere. There’s enough cash in that wallet for two first class flights and a bit left over till they get settled. Paul’s done bar work. Even at this time of year he’d be bound to get something.’
‘Or a reconciliation,’ said Rajah, thoughtfully.
‘Fat chance by all accounts. And it won’t help that both you and I have changed sides. Why, by the way?’
‘Why what?’
‘Why did you do it? Khan said you were one of his most trusted men.’
‘I’m no one’s man. And why you as well?’
‘It’s Meena, I suppose. I just can’t help it. There’s something about her you want to help. And there’s my daughter. Since her mother died I’ve been pretty useless. She seems to be able to take care of herself without my help. Maybe it’s just my way of paying something back.’
‘Precisely. I had a daughter too once. Still have of course, although I doubt she’d even recognise me. She’s back in India with her mother. I send money but it’s not enough. We all have our demons.’
‘Man, we’re on a hiding to nothing here,’ I said.
‘We’ll survive.’
‘I wish I could be as certain.’
‘Trust me, Mr Sharman.’
I didn’t point out that that was exactly what Khan had done. Instead I said, ‘Call me Nick, for Christ’s sake.’
‘Christ was just a prophet who got taken too seriously,’ he said with a sly smile.
‘And please. Don’t get all philosophical on me, for Christ’s… for God’s sake,’ I corrected myself, and smiled too.
I thought I’d try Melanie on the mobile again but all I could get was a screaming feedback through the earpiece. ‘What’s the matter with the bloody phone?’ I said.
Rajah shrugged. ‘Use the one in the car,’ he said and tossed me the keys. ‘But not a word about where we are.’
‘I don’t know where we bloody well are,’ I replied. ‘And I have done this before, you know.’
‘Sorry,’ he said.
I went outside to the Mercedes, but got the same result. I stood outside the car and sussed it out. We were surrounded on all sides by hills and a row of electricity pylons marched across the field beside us. Shit, I thought. That’s all we bloody need. A blind spot.
I went back and told Rajah. ‘Make your call when you go shopping.’
‘Just me? I thought it was we a minute ago.’
‘It’s safer that way. The pair of us are too conspicuous together.’
‘Safer for who? Don’t forget we’ve got dodgy plates on that motor.’
‘I’m sure you can cope.’
‘Looks like I’ll have to. Just make sure Paul and Meena don’t make any calls on the land line. They’re too easily traced these days.’
He nodded. ‘Trust me,’ he said again.
57
By the time I left to go on my shopping trip there was still no sign of our young charges. Rajah gave me four fifty-pound notes. ‘I hope these are kosher,’ I said on the way out.
‘You have got a suspicious mind.’
‘I’ve had to in the past.’
‘Don’t worry, they’re as good as gold.’
‘I’ll take your word for it.’
‘Trust me.’
‘There seems to be an awful lot of trust involved on my part in this.’
‘It’s good for the soul.’
I didn’t bother to make any reply to that and went out into the chilly morning air, slid in behind the wheel of the Mercedes and tried the phone again. I punched in Melanie’s number but still got no joy. I started the car up, reversed out of the drive, drove up the lane and mentally tossed a coin as to which direction to take. I chose left and passed through the village which didn’t look any more awake in the cold light of day than it had the previous night, and after ten minutes found a main road, turned in the opposite direction to the way posted to Manchester, and within fifteen minutes discovered a big Sainsbury’s hypermarket. I was almost disappointed. The car was so responsive and pleasant to drive I could’ve kept going all day. In fact I almost did.
I drove into a car park that would comfortably have taken a year’s production of the Ford Motor Company and parked the Mercedes in one corner.
I went into the coolness of the building and found everything I needed from fresh socks to a bottle of Remy Martin and started loading up a trolley.
Three quarters of an hour later, with Rajah’s two hundred quid almost gone, I went back to the car and tried Melanie again.
She was in her office. ‘Where the hell are you?’ she demanded. ‘I’ve been leaving messages.’
‘Well it ain’t Kansas, Tonto.’
‘So where is it?’
‘A long way from home, love, ‘ I replied. ‘There’s been a few developments.’
‘Like what?’
I gave her the seven-inch version without naming places.
‘Christ,’ she said when I was finished.
‘Big surprises all round,’ I said.
‘You can say that again. That bloody Rajah. He could’ve killed the pair of us in Manchester.’
‘Not according to him,’ I said. ‘And he’s not such a bad bloke when you get to know him.’
‘I’m glad you’ve made a new friend.’
‘They’re few and far between in this world.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Nothing. Look I don’t know how long this is going to take, and you can’t reach me where I am because the bloody phones won’t work.’ I declined to tell her about the land line. You just never know, and the less she knew the better for all of us.
‘That’s convenient.’
‘Hardly. We’ve got to drive out of the area before we can talk to anyone.’
‘Like I said, that’s convenient.’
‘Don’t be like that, Mel.’
‘Oh what’s the use? Call me when you can be bothered.’ And she hung up with an electronic clatter.
I sighed and put the car phone back in its holster.
I drove back to the cottage, only getting lost a couple of times and reversed the Merc into the drive and up to the door. I didn’t want people looking at my new undies.
Paul and Meena were up and about when I got inside, and as I brought in the bags from the supermarket they started eating. It was like an infestation of locusts.
‘I can see I’m going to be a good customer,’ I said to Rajah as the pair of them opened bottles and cans and packets. ‘It’s just as well you’re holding.’
‘Let them have their fun,’ he said. ‘They’ll have to get serious soon enough.’
I knew he was right, but the knowledge gave me little pleasure.
58
‘I’d better go and make some calls myself,’ said Rajah after we’d had some more tea. This time, thank Christ, with proper whole milk in mine. Not very healthy for a man my age, I’ll agree. But then nor is a bacon and egg sandwich with butter on white sliced bread. And that was exactly what I was going to make for my mid-morning snack.
‘Who you gonna call?’ I asked, suddenly suspicious.
‘Ghostbusters!’ chorused Paul
and Meena.
‘Very funny,’ I said. ‘You two don’t seem to be taking this very seriously.’
‘If you’d been on your own for so long, with no money and hardly enough to eat most of the time, always running scared, and now, with two big tough guys looking after you, perhaps you’d have a laugh too,’ said Meena.
‘Fair enough,’ I said. ‘Sorry. I wasn’t thinking. And thanks for the compliment. But who?’ I asked Rajah again.
‘Just a few contacts.’
‘You wouldn’t be calling Khan to come and collect these two, would you?’ I said. ‘A nice bit of scratch in your bin, you know the deal.’
‘Listen, Sharman,’ said Rajah. ‘If I was going to sell them out I’d’ve done it a long time ago. And I wouldn’t have intervened last night when you were about to get your pretty face kicked in. Think about it.’
I thought about it. But just for a second. ‘You’re right,’ I said. ‘Sorry.’ It was definitely my morning for apologies.
‘How far do you have to go to get a decent connection?’ he asked as he stood up.
‘Dunno. I made my call from the supermarket. It’s about five miles away. It was crystal clear there. But if you drove to the top of one of those hills…’
‘I’ll try it,’ he said and left.
I rescued the Telegraph from one of the shopping bags I’d brought in, left Paul and Meena to put the rest of the supplies away, either in the fridge and cupboard or in their stomachs, and went into the living room where I kicked some life into last night’s fire and started on the crossword.
Rajah returned before I’d quarter finished it. ‘All right?’ I said when he stuck his head round the door.
‘Everything’s quiet.’
‘Who’d you talk to?’
‘Still not sure, are you?’ he asked.
‘Yes I’m sure,’ I replied. ‘I’m just curious.’
He came into the room and settled a giant ham on the arm of a chair. I was worried it would tip him into the fireplace. ‘Just a couple of friends,’ he said. ‘People I can trust.’
I was thinking this whole thing relied too much on trust but I said nothing. ‘And?’ I said instead.
‘Like I said, all quiet.’
‘So we just sit here till the cash runs out.’
‘No.’ He was adamant. ‘No. You’re right. I think we’re going to have to talk them into leaving the country. Maybe I’ll go with them. Drive down to Spain. I could do with some sun.’
‘Top up your tan,’ I said, but I smiled as I said it. I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea.
‘I dunno,’ he replied. ‘I could get a job as a bouncer. I’ve done it before.’
‘That doesn’t surprise me,’ I said. ‘Except I thought they called them door security executives these days.’
‘Not in the sort of place I worked,’ he replied.
I was getting to like Rajah.
Meena came in from the kitchen then munching on a chocolate biscuit. ‘You’ll get fat,’ I said.
‘I am eating for two,’ she said back.
‘More like twenty-two the way you’re putting the calories away,’ said Rajah.
She stuck out her tongue, and that was when it occurred to me that we were getting to be like a little family, and I didn’t mind it one bit. But the trouble with families is that you can get too attached to them.
And you tend to miss them once they’re gone.
59
And that’s how we spent the rest of the day. Eating, reading the papers and magazines I’d brought back from the supermarket and trying to watch a TV that suffered from the same problems as the mobile phones. And worse, had no remote control. Meena and I cooked dinner together. No surprise that I’d bought the makings of Indian food, and as I chopped, she sautéed and together it smelt pretty good.
Rajah came in when the food was almost ready. ‘We need to talk,’ he said to Meena.
‘About?’
‘About you and Paul and the baby. And me and Mr Sharman.’
‘What about us?’
‘Simple. We can’t stay here. We can’t even stay in the country.’
Meena’s mouth set in a firm line.
‘Now listen,’ he said. ‘I’ve had an idea. You want the baby to have British citizenship. So we go to Spain and when it’s due we hop over to Gibraltar. Easy.’
I wondered why I’d never thought of that.
‘Gibraltar,’ she echoed. ‘What’s Gibraltar got to do with it?’
‘If the baby’s born there it’ll be British.’
Meena looked at me, but it was no good asking. I hadn’t a clue, although it sounded right. ‘Of course,’ I said, with a confidence I didn’t really feel, and hoped it was.
‘I’ll drive you both down there,’ said Rajah. ‘Stay with you. Look after you both.’
‘What about passports?’ I said.
‘I’ve got one,’ replied Meena. ‘Dad got me one. He was going to send me back to India. Get me away from the evil influences of the West.’
‘More like the evil influences of Paul,’ I said.
Meena smiled. ‘Probably.’
‘Have you got it with you?’ I asked.
She nodded. ‘But it’s in my unmarried name.’
‘No big deal,’ said Rajah. ‘They don’t bother much on the way out.’
‘Has Paul?’ I interjected.
‘Yes.’
‘How about you, Rajah?’ I said.
‘Never go anywhere without it.’
Well that was something at least.
‘See,’ said Rajah. ‘Simple.’
‘And you can drop me off in London on the way,’ I said. ‘Or at any railway station.’
‘I’ll have to talk to Paul,’ said Meena, stirring her curry sauce.
‘I already did,’ said Rajah. ‘He’s all for it.’
‘Let me think about it,’ said Meena.
‘Of course. But don’t take too long. The sooner we get out of here the better.’
I whispered a silent ‘Amen’ to that.
60
We all sat down and discussed the matter after dinner. Me with my bottle of Remy, Rajah, Meena and Paul with bottled water and milk shakes out of little plastic bottles respectively. To each his own.
‘It’s the only way,’ said Rajah, after we’d chased the subject around the table for half an hour.
‘It’s got to be,’ I added. ‘This way you’ll be safe.’
‘What are we going to do for money?’ said Meena. ‘And food. I’ve never been abroad.’
‘They do eat in Spain,’ said Paul. ‘They’re right, Meena. It’ll be fun. And warm.’
‘And I’ve got enough money for our immediate needs,’ said Rajah. ‘Then Paul and I’ll get jobs. There’s stacks of work out there.’
‘I’m scared,’ said Meena, touching her tummy.
‘You’ve been scared before,’ I said. ‘All the time you were on the run with Paul. And you made it. You were brave. I admire the way you handled it. This way you’ll be free. Rajah will take care of you.’
Rajah nodded agreement.
‘I’m not sure,’ she said.
‘Come on, Meena,’ said Paul. ‘I’m sick of running. Down there we can relax. It’ll be great, just you wait and see.’
She looked at each of us in turn. ‘OK,’ she said after a moment.
‘Terrific,’ I said.
‘What about you?’ asked Meena, looking at me with her beautiful eyes.
‘I’ll get by,’ I said.
‘What if my father comes after you?’
‘He doesn’t know I’m with you,’ I said. ‘He just thinks I quit on him. He’ll get over it.’
‘You could always come with us,’ she said.
It had never occu
rred to me.
‘Please. You could get work down there too,’ she went on.
‘I used to help out in a bar,’ I said, suddenly getting into the swing of things.
‘There you go,’ said Paul. ‘What a team we’d make.’
‘I don’t have my passport with me.’
‘Pick it up on the way through,’ said Meena.
I was tempted. ‘But there’s my girlfriend,’ I said.
‘Bring her along too,’ said Rajah.
‘I don’t think so,’ I said.
‘Then get another one. There’s plenty of available women in Spain.’
‘That might not be a bad idea,’ I said. ‘The way things have been going.’
‘So?’ said Meena.
‘All right,’ I said. ‘I’ve always fancied a warm climate.’
‘Wonderful,’ she said, and ran round the table kissing each of us on the cheeks in turn.
We drank a toast with our various beverages. ‘Don’t forget you’ve got those dodgy plates on your car,’ I said to Rajah. ‘We don’t want to get nicked trying to get on the ferry.’
‘They’ll be fine. I can pick up a set of the right ones in any motor accessory shop. They’ll make them up while we wait. I’ve got all the papers for the car with me.’
‘You travel prepared,’ I said.
‘I try.’
‘When are we going to go?’ asked Meena.
‘First thing in the morning,’ replied Rajah. ‘I’ve got to make a call. Just to make sure everything’s OK. Anyway, it’s too late to go tonight. Let’s get some rest and start out fresh.’
We drank another toast and watched the TV picture fragment through an old movie before we all turned in to bed.
61
We were up early the next morning, and after our last breakfast in the cottage we packed our few meagre possessions, and waited whilst Rajah went out to make his calls.
It was cool and blustery outside and black clouds chased each other across the big blue sky, and intermittently a choppy, cold rain fell. There’d been a storm in the night and lightning had lit up the sky and thunder had seemed to rock the small cottage to its very foundations. It had been like being aboard a ship at sea. I’d got up and made a cup of tea and sat drinking it in the darkness of my room, lit only by the flashes of sheet lightning as bright as a million stars, as the rain lashed down and drummed on the roof and the walls and the windows as if it was searching for me personally.
