The Jump

by Martina Cole

  ‘I brought you in a cup of coffee; your case is on the bed.’

  They stared at each other for a long moment, Donna realising that there was something in Alan Cox that called out to her. Suddenly she knew why they argued so much, why they couldn’t get along.

  The insight was a revelation to her. No longer meeting his gaze, she smiled tightly.

  ‘Thanks. I won’t be long now then I’ll get myself off home.’

  Alan took his cue and walked from the room.

  Donna dried herself off and dressed hastily, chiding herself the whole while. She had to get out of Alan’s flat and back on to her own territory as soon as possible. She’d been too long on her own, that’s what was wrong.

  Once Georgio was home everything would go back to normal.

  She was so busy with these thoughts, she didn’t notice Big Paddy parked outside.

  Alan was listening to the early-morning news on Radio 4 when his buzzer sounded. Frowning, he pressed the intercom switch. ‘Who is it?’

  He was relieved to hear Big Paddy’s voice.

  ‘It’s me, Alan, open the door.’

  Two minutes later, Paddy was standing in Alan’s hallway, an anxious smile on his face. He took in the dressing gown and recently washed hair.

  ‘I was hoping to hear from you, Paddy,’ Alan said. ‘I just assumed it would be at a normal time of the day or night.’

  Paddy followed Alan through to the kitchen.

  ‘Coffee or tea?’

  Paddy shrugged. ‘Whatever you’re having.’ He sat at the kitchen table and glanced over the newspaper headlines.

  Alan placed a cup of coffee in front of him and said tersely, ‘So? What do you want?’

  Paddy eyed him for a moment. ‘I just saw Donna leaving, I was under the impression that Donna’s only to be the messenger, nothing else. Wonder what Georgio will have to say about her leaving with wet hair? I know he wasn’t that impressed with her going off for the weekend with you in the first place.’

  Taking his time, Alan lit himself a large cigar. Blowing the smoke across the table into Paddy’s face, he said viciously, ‘You tell fucking Georgio that his wife is in this up to her neck. She took him at face value and now she wants to organise everything with me. If he don’t like it, then that’s tough shit. I am doing him a right favour and he’d do well to remember that. And before you open your trap, Paddy, remember just who you’re talking to.’

  Alan sipped his coffee, a vision of Donna still before his eyes, and then he said in a low voice: ‘I don’t believe what I’m hearing. You have the fucking gall to sit there and tell me that Georgio is still calling the shots from Parkhurst? He involved her in all this himself - I never wanted it from the off. I even sent a message in telling him I wanted another number two. But no, I got sex on legs, whether I wanted her or not.

  ‘Well, Paddy me old mate, she knows too much now, and believe me when I say she’s quick on the uptake. She has been an asset on this trip, a bona fide asset. Tell Georgio we left school over thirty years ago. If he wants to go into his dotage, that’s his lookout - but he can get off my fucking back. You can also tell him that if he has any sense he’ll get off hers as well. I’m doing him the favour, remember?’

  Paddy sighed gently. ‘What’s the score with Jockland?’

  Alan grinned. ‘How much do you know, Paddy, and how much are you guessing, eh? I know for a fact you ain’t had a visit in a month. Only Donna’s been up and she nearly frightened the life out of Georgio by turning up on the same day as one of his other friends. So where’s your information coming from, eh? Is it from Dolly, or is it that you’re putting two and two together from his messages?

  ‘Whatever it is, you can get this straight: Donna’s attractive enough, I will concede that but me and her have nothing in common but Georgio Brunos - who, as I said earlier, I am doing a right favour for. Now if you don’t mind, Paddy, until Georgio instructs me otherwise, I can’t tell you fuck all else. And one last thing, if you ever insinuate anything about me and Donna again, you’ll regret it. Believe me you’ll regret it.’

  Paddy dropped his eyes and then sipped at the hot coffee. ‘Did you know Lewis was cut up, lost a kidney?’ He had the satisfaction of seeing Alan’s eyes widen.

  ‘Not by Georgio, surely?’

  Paddy shook his head. ‘Nah, he was cut up by a small-time blagger. No one we would be interested in. Lewis is all right, though, more’s the pity. Seems he poached the bloke’s bird, a little queen called Sadie.’

  ‘But Georgio is all right?’

  Paddy nodded again. ‘Oh yeah, he’s champion. It got Lewis off his back for a while. He’s due back in the poke in ten days.’

  ‘This Sadie is on the same wing as Georgio?’

  ‘So is this Timmy, the boyfriend - though he was roasted alive on Saturday night. You know the old scam, chicken wire and tolly. Always a northern scam that. But Lewis’s arm is long. He’s dying, I heard, this Timmy.’

  Alan frowned. ‘I hope he is, poor bastard. I remember a bloke having that done to him when I was in Durham. He survived it, and I think he was sorry he did. He topped himself the day they put him back on the wing. He looked fucking rough, Paddy. No eyelids, nothing. The tolly burns through everything - skin, bone, the lot. He’ll be lucky to keep his sight.’

  Paddy shrugged. ‘That’s his problem. At the moment I think Georgio just wants you to get things moving as quickly as possible.’

  ‘I’ll do that. Lewis is a game old fucker though, isn’t he? I was there when he got shot in 1974. I thought he was a gonner, we all did, and yet the old sod walked out of hospital six weeks later, harder than ever. You have to admire him, even if you can’t stand him.’

  ‘That’s a fact. You’ll be in touch with Georgio, then?’

  Alan nodded. ‘You give him a message. Tell him I’ll swallow this morning because I know what it’s like to be banged up, but if he ever casts aspersions on me or Donna again, I’ll leave him high and fucking dry, all right? I don’t need this shit.’

  Paddy got up and nodded again, his great red beard hiding his real thoughts on the matter.

  After Paddy lad left, Alan sat smoking, waiting for the anger to seep from his bones.

  So Georgio thought he might make a play for his wife? Well, as Alan now admitted to himself, that’s exactly what he would like to do. And knowing all he knew about Georgio Brunos, he could probably get her.

  Sadie was terrified and Georgio knew it. There were three new prisoners on the Wing. One was a black man called Eros, a heavyset geezer, typical pimp turned gangster. The Yardies were everywhere now. He was a schizophrenic as well. The other two were a different kettle of fish. Both were in their fifties, fairly big and obviously friends. They didn’t talk to anyone and any overtures were rebuffed, albeit in a friendly fashion. The shorter of the two spoke a lot but said nothing.

  Georgio watched the men and smiled to himself. He knew exactly who they were and so would Lewis. He also knew what they were in for and he toyed with the idea of blowing their world wide open. He decided against it for the time being; they would keep until they came in handy. He ignored them and they ignored him, though they knew who he was as he knew who they were. One hard look from Georgio was enough to make them keep their traps shut and he made a point of pushing them both aside roughly as they went out on exercise.

  Sadie also knew the men, which was why she was frightened. She had first encountered them years earlier as a fifteen year old in Soho. Sticking to Georgio’s side, she watched the two men warily. Out in the exercise yard she said to him, ‘I know them two. They’re bad news, Georgio. Jesus, they’re the biggest nonces this side of the water, and sadistic with it. They were pulled in for that paedophile ring murder last year. How they’re still walking around here, I don’t know. If anyone knew who they were . . .’ She rolled her eyes.

  Georgio looked at the two men.

  ‘I know who they are all right, and I’m sitting on the information until such time as
I can do something about it - so keep stumm, all right? I think they’ll take Lewis’s mind off everything else when he gets back, don’t you?’

  Sadie saw the logic in this and nodded.

  Georgio walked casually over to a guard and asked for a light. As the man struck the match Georgio whispered, ‘Keep a lid on them two until Lewis gets here. He asked me to be his eyes and ears while he’s away, OK? Let him deal with them when he comes back. He’s got a score to settle with the bald one.’

  The screw nodded almost imperceptibly and said, ‘Timmy died an hour ago.’

  Georgio walked back to Sadie. Despite her strange appearance and ways, Georgio liked her and was sorry for the news he had to impart.

  Sadie cried like a baby, as everyone knew she would.

  Anthony Calder was talking to Jonnie H. on the phone while watching his baby daughter crawl around the floor.

  ‘I can see what you’re getting at, Jonnie, me old mate. But are you sure it’s for the best? This way we only have one stab at the jump. Tell you what, you let me talk to Alan and I’ll get back to you, OK?’

  He put the phone down and picked up his daughter, kissing her soft downy head.

  ‘Hello, beautiful girl.’ The child crowed with delight. Settling her on his lap, he punched out Alan’s number. Alan was there within the hour.

  Anthony Calder was changing his daughter’s nappy and still talking on the phone when Alan arrived. He rolled his eyes at the ceiling as Alan smiled to himself.

  ‘Just get yourself home, will you? I have work to do. No, I don’t mind if you buy the blue suit - buy the whole fucking shop, Sharon, if you like, but get home, will you? The baby is driving me up the wall.’

  He put the phone down and laughed ruefully at his visitor. ‘So much for the New fucking Man, eh? I get left holding the baby while she swans round Oxford Street, her mobile phone in one hand and a bunch o’ credit cards in the other. They’ll both need the kiss of life about four o’clock!’

  Alan roared with laughter. ‘You love it, mate, and you know you do.’

  Anthony finished putting on the baby’s Pampers and grinned. ‘She’s a little doll. Ain’t you, my darlin’?’

  He placed his huge face on the baby’s belly and blew out his lips. Then, picking up the child, he settled her once more on his lap and said seriously, ‘Jonnie H. rang. He thinks we’d be much better getting Georgio out on a laydown. Seems Parkhurst is too extreme a nick to actually walk out of, know what I mean?’

  Alan nodded. ‘But how will we know if there’s a laydown? No one knows that, not even the guards. Only the Governor knows and that’s the day it’s happening. I imagined us getting out with a helicopter and a few blokes riding shotgun. Like they did in Durham.’

  ‘That’s just it. From what I’ve heard, there’s no blind spots on the Island any more. They’ve got the wires everywhere. No chopper is landing anywhere near that nick. I think the laydown is a good idea myself, except we’ll only get one shot at it, see. The laydown from Parkhurst is always Wandsworth, ain’t it? So we can sort the route from there. It’ll be a case of backing and fronting the sweatbox, and getting the driver out. We have to get him out because without him we can’t get to Georgio in the back.’

  Alan nodded.

  ‘Georgio’s A grade, you know that,’ Anthony went on. ‘There’ll be the sweatbox, a Rover, two motorcycles, and a Range-Rover on his arse. It’s too big a deal to go through with all that. That’s not forgetting the local police who’ll have to open the roads for us. You know there’s no way the entourage will stop for anything.’

  Anthony thought about Alan’s words as his daughter chewed on his fingers, her face covered in spittle. She grinned toothlessly at Alan and he grinned back.

  ‘She’s a real darling, ain’t she,’ he said dotingly. ‘Good job she don’t look like you. Except for the bald head, of course.’

  ‘Up yours, Coxy Apples. Remember that from school?’

  ‘How could I ever forget it, eh? I lived with that every summer of my life.’

  The two men laughed, then Anthony said seriously, ‘What we have to do is arrange the route. Once we fix that, we can concentrate on getting him out on some pretext.’

  ‘I’ve got JoJo O’Neil and his lumbering sidekick sorting out safe houses up north, just in case, and the queer feller in Glasgow is sorting out the boat. We should be all right in that way at least. Jimmy Mac is sorting the rifles. Do you think we’ll still need a helicopter?’

  Anthony shook his head. ‘Not now. We don’t need a helicopter but we’ll need scrambling bikes for the chop. We need to check the route from Portsmouth to Wandsworth and find the right spot for the jump. It will need to be near a footbridge of some kind for the chop itself, the changeover from bikes to cars. If the Old Bill’s following they can only go by foot then, see. By the time they drive round we’ll all be long gone.’

  Alan nodded, feeling the sense of excitement filling him once more. ‘Let’s all have a good think, get the route sorted and the safe houses. The boats are ours from next weekend. We could spring Georgio in a month to five weeks, top whack.’

  Anthony grinned. ‘I’ll drink to that. There’s a bottle of scotch behind you. Bring it over with the glasses, would you?’

  Alan poured out generous measures for them both. Anthony put a meaty finger in his glass and rubbed it on his daughter’s gums. ‘Sharon would have a fit if she saw me doing this, but my old mum swears by it. Cheers!’

  Alan smiled as the baby’s face screwed up and she spat out the scotch as if it was hemlock.

  ‘Like I said, good job she don’t take after you apart from the hair. She don’t like whisky either!’

  Anthony grinned and sipped the burning liquid. ‘If we get our thinking caps on we should be all set before we know it, then it’s just biding out the day. That will be the hard part. We’ll definitely need the Armalites now - the sweatbox windscreen is bulletproof. The screw will laugh in our faces until he sees the Armalite, then he’ll shit himself.’

  ‘I’ll get the Ordnance Survey maps later on and I’ll drive the route some time this week. I’ll keep you informed.’

  Anthony smiled. ‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’

  Alan grinned back at his friend. ‘You could say that, Anthony. Yes, you could say that!’

  Donna had been listening to Dolly’s chatter for twenty minutes and it was beginning to wear on her nerves. Since she had walked into the house Dolly’s mouth had not stopped except for the odd breath.

  ‘Paddy’s going up to see your man today. I expect he has a lot to sort out with him.’ Dolly glanced at Donna as she spoke.

  Donna nodded and sipped her coffee.

  ‘How did the weekend go then?’

  This question was what Donna had been waiting for.

  ‘OK, thanks. How did your dinner go at Maeve’s?’

  Dolly smiled, a steely glint in her grey eyes. ‘OK. Your mother-in-law is a demon of a cook, the Yorkshire were like diddy men, the size of them! But I’m more interested in Scotland. Where did you go? Did you visit anywhere nice? I hear the food is great and the people aren’t as bad as the comedians make out.’

  ‘It was lovely, and the people were lovely too.’

  Dolly wasn’t to be put off. ‘Did Georgio know you weren’t going alone, like?’ Immediately the words were out of her mouth she regretted them.

  ‘I beg your pardon, Dolly! Exactly what are you getting at?’ Donna fixed dark brooding eyes on the small woman in front of her and saw her visibly pale. ‘Are you trying to insinuate something here? Have I missed something? I was away on business, nothing more. Remember when Georgio used to swan around on business - all over the world, in fact? Bangkok, Sri Lanka, Italy, Germany . . . to name but a few of his trips. Trips he made alone, Dolly. Trips where he was sometimes gone for six weeks at a time, while I was banged up in here with just you and an old black dog for company. So let’s get something straight here. If I want to leave the house I don’t have
to answer to you, Georgio, or bloody King Street Charlie about where I am or who I’m with. You would do well to remember that. This is my house, the money in the accounts is mine, the businesses are mine, and I will look after them as I see fit.’

  She only just stopped herself from telling the older woman that the marvellous Georgio would be quite happy to dump his longtime housekeeper out on the street without a by your leave.

  ‘The estate agent rang, by the way,’ Dolly told her in a choked voice. ‘He has a couple who want to view the house. I told him to wait until you came home, as I knew nothing about it at all.’

  Donna dropped her eyes. Dolly had hit her where it hurt and knew it.

  ‘I was going to tell you about it,’ she began awkwardly. ‘Georgio wants the place sold up. It’s too big for just the two of us—’

  Dolly interrupted her. ‘It was much too big for the three of us but he never wanted to sell it before.’

  Donna slammed her fist on to the table. ‘Well, he does now! We need the money, Dolly. The bottomless pit has dried up and the goose that laid the golden eggs is vegetating in Parkhurst. Think about it, will you? The gas bill in this house is over seven hundred pounds a quarter in the winter, the electric is the same. That’s without everything else. The pool alone costs over two hundred a month, what with the Voxanne and algae killer and the rest. It’s just too much at the moment. I need something smaller.’

  She saw the haunted look on Dolly’s face and the woman’s next words shattered her.

  ‘What about me, then? Am I part of all this cutting back?’

  Donna rushed from her chair. ‘Of course not Dolly. Don’t be silly.’ She held the woman to her and hugged her. ‘How could I ever get along without you, eh? Even if you do drive me to distraction sometimes.’