by P. F. Ford
‘Who’s been messing around here? Which is my fuckin’ pint?’
Alerted to the problem, everyone was advancing towards the bar…and us. Uh, oh, what do I do now? Nothing else for it.
‘Could I get everyone a fresh pint?’
Despite the moaning and groaning, my gesture seemed to defuse the situation. It was a damned expensive round of drinks, though. It seemed everyone was having a pint and a chaser.
Pete was having great difficulty keeping it all together, but having a pint to focus on seemed to help. Even so, he nearly dropped his beer when a noise that sounded not unlike a braying donkey suddenly filled the room. It was Nugent laughing. His cronies turned our way again. He had obviously made some joke at our expense.
I turned to face him. ‘I’d like a word.’
Nugent looked suitably horrified. ‘Are you addressing me?’
He was an antagonistic git, obviously looking to score points in front of his mates. ‘Yes, I am.’
‘Well then, it’s Mr Nugent to you.’
‘Look, I know you think bullying and intimidating people is the only way to get what you want, but...’ I stopped talking as Nugent sauntered arrogantly across the room.
‘I don’t think it’s the only way to get what I want, you idiot,’ he said. ‘I know it’s the only way to get what I want. Any other way could take ages. My way is much quicker.’ He brayed like a donkey again and his cronies laughed obediently.
‘Well this hasn’t got you what you want, has it?’ I indicated my bruises.
‘Of course it has, you moron. I just wanted to teach you a lesson. And I have.’ He leaned right into my face before adding, ‘I don’t approve of blokes who beat up women.’
I stood my ground and leaned towards him. ‘Nor do I.’
This seemed to confuse him for just a moment. ‘It’s what cowards do,’ he said.
‘Do I look like a coward?’
‘You look like a bloody idiot, coming in here trying to throw your weight around. I’ve a good mind to finish the job myself.’
‘That’s what you do, is it?’ said Pete. ‘Make sure the odds are well in your favour first. That doesn’t exactly sound like a hero talking.’ He looked as surprised as the rest of us that he’d spoken out like that.
Nugent turned his attention on him. ‘And who the bloody hell asked you, granddad?’ He looked Pete up and down before deciding he wasn’t worth the trouble. ‘You’d better go outside before you crap yourself.’ He turned back to me. ‘Talking of cowards, you’d better take your dad home. He looks terrified.’ That braying laugh filled the room again.
I wasn’t having that. ‘D’you know, I read somewhere that the worst bullies are the biggest cowards? What do you think?’
Nugent’s face was a picture. I thought I might just have touched a nerve. Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound. I’d probably already gone too far, so I thought I might just as well make sure he got the message.
‘You shouldn’t be mocking him,’ I said, putting my good hand on Pete’s shoulder. ‘You should be showing him the respect he deserves for just being here. Of course he’s scared. Look around you, there’s two of us and over a dozen of you lot.’ I looked around at the faces staring in our direction. ‘I wonder how many of you would be prepared to face odds like that to support your best mate?’
I left room for an answer, but of course there wasn’t one. The only response was some shuffling of feet and an awkward silence. One point to me, then.
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘I thought as much. Even a bunch of tits like you lot can understand how much courage it’s taken for him to be here. D’you still want to call him a coward?’
You could have heard a pin drop. Apparently you weren’t supposed to stand up to Nugent – it wasn’t the done thing, especially in his own club.
‘Now listen,’ he growled. ‘You’re really pushing your luck. You’ve already had a warning. Next time it will be a lot worse. You’re the one who needs to show some respect. I think it would probably be best for all of us if you bugger off home before I lose my temper.’
Pete breathed a sigh of relief, put his glass down and turned to go.
‘No chance, mate,’ I said, riding the wave of my bravado for all it was worth. ‘I’ve come here to talk to you, and I’m not going until I have.’
‘Oh shit!’ Pete said it quietly, but I heard it quite clearly as he sighed his disappointment, and turned back to his pint.
Nugent looked me up and down as if I was something smelly someone had walked in on their shoe. ‘Mate?’ he said, affecting a disgusted tone to his voice. ‘Mate? I’m not your mate.’
Here we go, me and my big mouth. I knew it would get me into real trouble one day.
Then to my great surprise he shook his head. ‘You really aren’t a coward, are you?’ He stroked his chin thoughtfully, then sighed impatiently. ‘Right. I can see you’re really determined to piss me off and ruin my night, so I’ll give you five minutes.’ He pointed to a corner table. ‘Over there.’
Three of his heavies made towards the corner. ‘Alright, alright.’ He sighed impatiently, glaring at the heavies. ‘Do I look like I need help to handle these two?’ They retreated respectfully out of the way and the three of us walked across to the corner table and sat down.
Now Nugent’s not exactly the mafia, but he was certainly the local equivalent of a gangster, and, according to Dry Biro, he was famously unpredictable. He hadn’t been given the nickname ‘Nugent the Nutter’ for nothing. So it was a bit like sitting down with a ticking bomb and not knowing if it could be defused.
He looked at me expectantly. ‘Well, gone on then. Don’t be a pillock. Say what you’ve got to say. I haven’t got all night!’
‘You beat up the wrong guy.’
‘Oh yeah? You’ll be surprised how many times I’ve heard that one. That’s what they all say. Anyway, what makes you think I beat you up?’
‘Well, apart from the fact you already told me yourself, a little bird told me,’ I explained. ‘The same little bird that told you I was a wife-beater. I’m here to tell you I’m not a wife-beater.’
‘I’ve only got your word for that.’
‘You admit you beat me up then?’
Nugent bristled. ‘I’ll admit no such thing.’
‘It was your thugs though, wasn’t it? You sent them after me because Gloria told you I beat her up.’
‘Gloria? I don’t know any Gloria.’
‘No, but you know her sister Marie, don’t you?’
‘Don’t you bring my girlfriend into this.’
Pete nearly choked on his beer. I’d forgotten to mention that his ex-wife was now the local gangster’s bit on the side. ‘Girlfriend?’ he spluttered.
‘Is there a problem?’ asked Nugent menacingly.
‘Not for me,’ said Pete innocently, the implication way too subtle for someone like Nugent.
‘So let me get this straight,’ I interrupted, before things got out of hand. ‘What you’re saying is you had me beaten up because Marie told you I had been beating up Gloria.’
‘Let’s put it this way,’ said Nugent. ‘Hypothetically, if Marie had told me such a thing, then yes, it’s probable that I would have had you beaten up.’
‘Hypothetical? Probable?’
‘It’s a service I offer,’ said Nugent, as if he was talking about a normal everyday business. ‘It’s a bit like pest control. I can even have persistent pests exterminated if I really want to.’ He gave me an evil grin.
‘But you don’t actually know Gloria?’
‘Never had the pleasure, no.’
‘So you’re not aware she’s a pathological liar.’
‘Not my concern, old son. Business is business.’
I was having trouble getting my head around this. So I spelled it out. ‘So, you’re saying Gloria told Marie I had been beating her up, and Marie told you, so you then had me beaten up.’
‘I didn’t say anything of the sort,’ said Nugent in
dignantly. ‘You brought Gloria and Marie into this, not me.’
I was confused, and I obviously looked it.
‘Look,’ he said, sighing. ‘It’s really quite simple. People pay a price, and I get the job done.’
‘Pay?’ I couldn’t believe this. I knew she had it in for me, but this was taking things to a whole new level. ‘Gloria paid to have me beaten up?’
‘Now you do want to beat her up, don’t you?’ said Nugent, grinning. ‘And I have to say, I wouldn’t blame you if she had paid to get you beaten up.’ He sat back, looking immensely pleased with himself. Then almost theatrically he added, ‘But she didn’t.’
‘What? She didn’t? So who did then?’
‘Now you know I’m not going to tell you that. Like I said, business is business.’ He tapped the side of his nose. ‘Client confidentiality and all that.’
‘But you lot beat me up for something I didn’t do!’
‘Yes, sorry about that,’ he said, but obviously wasn’t. ‘But I can only work with the information I’m given, and as long as the price is right, well...’ He spread his hands in a ‘what can you do’ gesture. ‘You were codded.’ He grinned again.
‘I was what?’
‘That’s what we call it,’ he explained. ‘Like in the modern day fish and chip shop.’
I obviously looked totally baffled, which isn’t surprising because I was.
‘In the old days,’ – he said it slowly, as if he was explaining something really difficult to an idiot – ‘they used to batter all the cod and then cook it as fast as they could. Nowadays they keep the cod back until it’s needed. Then it’s battered-’ He was laughing so much at his own joke he could hardly speak. ‘Battered to order. Just like you were!’
He did his braying donkey impression again, stopping briefly to splutter ‘codded’ to himself before he once again burst into laughter.
I made a determined effort to keep a straight face, and eventually he stopped braying long enough to make a big show of looking at his, obviously expensive, watch.
‘Oh dear! What a shame. I have enjoyed your riveting company, but it looks as though your time’s up. So sorry I don’t have time to chat any longer.’ He smiled apologetically. ‘I’m sure you can see yourselves out.’ Then the smile disappeared. ‘Or I could ask Tosser to throw you out.’ He smiled again. ‘But I’m sure that won’t be necessary.’
He stood up. The meeting was over. That was all we were going to get.
As I soon as opened the front door, the smell of cooking hit me and my mouth started to water. And there was that beautiful smiley face as well. I wondered absently if perhaps I could get used to this.
But the fact was there were at least twenty, and possibly even thirty, years between us, and beautiful as she was, I was confused about my feelings for this girl. I thought maybe there was something wrong with me.
The tiredness I had seen when I first met her was leaving her face now; there was a shine to her long dark hair and those lovely dark eyes shone brightly too.
‘Is Peter join for dinner?’
‘He had to get home.’
‘I like him. Nice man. But I think he very sad.’ She was perceptive too.
‘Yes, you’re right there. He is a nice guy, and he is very sad. His ex-wife broke his heart, and I’m not sure he’ll ever trust another woman enough to let her in, you know?’
‘Is bad,’ she said sadly. Then she smiled. ‘But not to be sad. I cook nice dinner for you.’
The casserole was a triumph, every bit as tasty as it smelled. Her comment ‘cook nice dinner’ really hadn’t done it justice. Nice? I think amazing or wonderful would have been much closer to the mark.
Afterwards I retreated to my corner of the sofa. Jelena followed me into the room. She pointed to the empty end of the sofa. ‘Think better you sit other side.’ I looked puzzled. ‘Keep arm from me. Not want hurt again.’
‘Are you planning on attacking me again?’
‘You never know luck, huh?’ She laughed. ‘Is safer is all.’
I remembered how much it had hurt last time so I did as I was told.
‘Am I, what you say, bossy?’
‘Oh yes,’ I teased. ‘Terribly. I told you, just like my mum.’
‘Perhaps you need mum keep you in place, huh?’ Happy that I was now in a safer place she sat down. There was a brief lull, then she looked expectantly at me. ‘So, you have news for me?’
Ah, yes. This was the awkward bit. I still hadn’t really figured out what to tell her.
‘I think I may have some good news, but I won’t know for sure until I’ve checked something out in the morning.’
‘You not make joke, yes? You really have news?’ The excitement sparkled in her eyes.
‘No joking. But let’s not get your hopes too high. It might be a false alarm.’
‘I knew you would help, I just knew. Thank you, thank you.’
She leaned across and kissed my cheek. Somehow she had managed to shuffle across and she was right next to me. I slipped my arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. It felt just right, and she relaxed against me.
And that’s when I realised what I felt for this beautiful young woman. No, it wasn’t lust at all. It was something completely different, like I was her big brother or maybe even her father. No wonder I had been confused about my feelings. I’d never had them before.
Isn’t life strange sometimes?
Chapter Eleven
They say you should never judge a book by its cover. How true that was, I thought, as I considered what Dry Biro had told me about Sophia.
I had only met her a month ago when I moved into my flat, and in that time I had formed the impression that she was a bit standoffish, a bit aloof. To be honest, there was an air of mystery about her that I found both intriguing and a little intimidating.
Now don’t get me wrong; I didn’t have a problem with her, but I couldn’t see us ever being bosom buddies, you know? I put it down to the fact that she was obviously classy whereas I can be a bit rough and ready.
I mean, I’m clean and house-trained, but I tend to be a jeans and t-shirt sort of guy. I can scrub up alright, when the need arises, and I even look okay in a suit, but if I’m honest I prefer comfortable casual.
Sophia, on the other hand, was one of those women who looked fabulous whatever she was wearing. You know the sort. She could have worn a sack and made it look a million dollars. She had those ageless good looks that meant she could be anywhere from thirty-five to fifty-five, and for the life of me I would never have been able to guess right.
Now, with my new knowledge, I saw her in a completely different way. Of course she was going to be careful with people she didn’t know. I’d be exactly the same in her shoes.
I knew Sophia had arrived home last night and I didn’t want to be too early, so I waited until ten o’clock before I knocked on her door. I hadn’t told Jelena I was only going next door.
There was the sound of a chain rattling on the other side of the door, then it swung open. Her smile lit up an otherwise dull morning. Maybe, because of Jelena’s smile, I had dimples on the brain, but I couldn’t help but notice Sophia’s. So, matching dimples – it was a start.
‘Alfie, how nice to see you. How are you?’ Then she noticed my bruises and my arm. ‘Oh my goodness, what happened?’ There was just a trace of an accent, but it was there. Another match? Looking good so far, I thought.
‘Hi, Sophia. I’m fine thanks, really. How are you? Did you have a good trip?’
She frowned. ‘If you don’t mind me saying, you don’t look fine. I’ve just made some tea. Won’t you come in?’ She stepped back and ushered me into her lounge. ‘Sit down. Make yourself comfortable while I fetch the tea.’
Human behaviour’s a strange thing isn’t it? I’ve just said how she was a bit aloof, and now here I was being offered tea. Could it be that her attitude to me had changed because my attitude to her had changed?
Her flat was exactl
y the same as mine. Well, let’s clarify that. It was the same layout as mine, but where mine was decorated in neutral colours, hers was beautifully decorated in what was obviously very elegant taste. If I had been transported here with no idea where I was, I could easily have guessed whose flat it was. It matched her perfectly.
She came in carrying a tea tray. She stood about 5ft 2inches tall, looking fit and healthy in blue jeans and a white top. From what I had learned about her yesterday, I knew she had to be around fifty years old, but she still could have passed for a woman much younger.
‘I’m so glad you called,’ she said. ‘I’ve been meaning to get to know you, but I’ve been so busy since you moved in. But I’m back for a while now, so maybe we can make up for lost time. As neighbours we should be friends too.’
I gave her my best smile. This certainly sounded like an excellent plan to me. ‘I’d like that very much Sophia, thank you.’
I asked her about her holiday, and she asked me about my flat – was I settled in now? Was there anything I needed? I was enjoying her company. There was nothing aloof about this woman at all. How wrong can you be?
But you can only do so much small talk, and pretty soon it became obvious to her that I had something on my mind. ‘If you don’t want to tell me what happened, that’s your business,’ she said. ‘But you obviously want to ask me something.’
I really hadn’t thought this through. I mean, what should I say? ‘Oh by the way I’ve got your long lost niece staying in my flat?’
‘Well,’ I began, ‘I’m not really sure where to start.’
‘Perhaps you should start at the beginning.’
She was right, of course. It made perfect sense. So I did, starting from last Friday night in the pub.
When I finished she sat very still, looking out of the window without actually seeming to focus on anything in particular. I didn’t know what to say, so I waited.
Finally, she turned to me. Her eyes glistened with tears, and one escaped and made its way slowly down her cheek. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, as she wiped it away with the back of her hand.
