An Unlikely Hero

by P. F. Ford

  I should point out I’m hopelessly sentimental and totally useless in this sort of situation. I was almost in tears myself. ‘Don’t be silly,’ I said. ‘This must have come as a shock.’

  ‘They were terrible days,’ she said, sadly. ‘There was so much hatred. No one knew who they could trust or who would betray them. I was away fighting when all my family were murdered. No one knew what happened to the baby. I had never even seen her.’ She sighed heavily. ‘I always wanted to believe she was alive, but I never thought I would ever see her.’

  I smiled encouragingly. ‘I think maybe it would be best if I bring her round,’ I said, ‘and leave the two of you to get to know each other. There’s only so much emotion I can deal with in one day and I wouldn’t want to embarrass you with my crying.’

  ‘I don’t know how to thank you.’

  ‘You don’t have to thank me,’ I said. ‘She’s a very resourceful young lady. She found you through her own efforts. It’s a pleasure to help.’

  She didn’t look too sure.

  ‘Really, I mean it. She’s wonderful. If I’ve helped reunite the two of you then it was worth getting a battering.’

  Now she was smiling. ‘That was very brave of you to get involved. I’m sorry you ended up in hospital.’

  I climbed to my feet. ‘But that’s the thing,’ I said. ‘Getting beaten up was nothing to do with Jelena and that Gregov guy. It would have happened anyway. I’d better go. She’ll be wondering where I’ve got to. Should I bring her round straight away?’

  ‘Oh goodness.’ she said, ‘I don’t know. What do you think?’

  ‘Sophia, I think you should do it as soon as you are ready, and I think you are ready now.’ I winked at her. ‘There’s no time like the present.’

  ‘Yes, you’re right. Please bring her round now.’

  ‘Jelena,’ I called as I let myself in. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘In here,’ she called from the lounge.

  I looked around the door. ‘Come on,’ I said. ‘Shoes on. We have to go out.’

  ‘Where? Where we going?’ She had obviously caught on to my excitement straight away.

  ‘It’s not far. Come on.’ I pulled the door closed behind us and took her hand.

  She started towards the street.

  ‘This way.’ I pulled her in the other direction.

  ‘What?’ she looked at me, puzzled. Sophia’s door was just around the corner. ‘What this?’

  ‘I told you I had some news,’ I said, knocking on Sophia’s door. ‘Well, I think this is as good as it gets.’

  The door opened and the two women stared at each other, mouths open.

  ‘Jelena, this is your Aunt Sophia. Sophia, this is your niece, Jelena.’

  I don’t think either of them could quite believe it at first, and I was beginning to think they had turned to statues.

  It was Sophia who spoke first. ‘Jelena,’ she said. ‘I thought I would never see you. Look at you. So beautiful.’

  And then they were in each other’s arms and the tears began to flow.

  Feeling like an intruder, I figured this was probably a good time to make a quiet retreat. They didn’t need me here, and besides, if the lump in my throat got any bigger, I was going to choke on it.

  It’s a sad fact that the world can be a seriously shitty place, and it’s often the people you love most who provide you with the biggest pile of it. But, every now and then, you might be lucky enough to do something good like that and help bring people together, and you know what? Somehow, just for a while, all that shitty stuff just doesn’t seem to matter anymore.

  Chapter Twelve

  The insistent trilling dragged me from my slumber. What time was it? And what was that noise? Then I was awake enough to realise it was my phone.

  ‘Is that you, Bowman?’

  Well, that certainly woke me up. Nugent the Nutter, calling me. What on earth could he want?

  ‘Of course it’s me. You called my number. Who were you expecting, the Pope?’

  ‘Alright, alright. No need for sarcasm. It’s Nugent here.’

  ‘I know it’s you Nugent. I don’t know any other Boycie impersonators.’

  ‘What? What do you mean?’

  Honestly, my wit is absolutely wasted on some people!

  ‘What do you want, Nugent? I assume this isn’t a social call as it’s the middle of the night.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know what planet you’re on Bowman, but for those of us in England on planet earth it’s eight o’clock in the evening.’

  ‘Is it?’ I was on the sofa – I must have fallen asleep. ‘Oh yes. So it is. Well, anyway, what do you want?’ Then, as an afterthought, ‘and how did you get my number?’

  ‘Never mind that.’ He actually sounded uncomfortable. ‘Listen, we have to meet. I need to talk to you.’

  ‘Oh right. Why’s that then? Do you want another go at fracturing my skull? Is one broken arm not enough?’

  ‘Look, don’t give me a hard time, right? I told you it was a mistake.’

  ‘Oh, that’s alright then. I’ll just pretend it never happened, shall I?’

  ‘You don’t forgive easy do you?’

  I had to concede he sounded pretty desperate, but I wasn’t about to make it easy for him.

  ‘No, I don’t. Especially when I get duffed up for something I haven’t bloody done. Now, tell me what you want, or sod off and leave me alone.’

  ‘I need your advice. And I need you to bring that weird bloke with you.’

  ‘What weird bloke?’

  ‘That strange geezer with you the other night – the bloke who likes tidying up.’

  ‘There’s nothing strange about him, Nugent. He just has difficulty understanding people who lie and cheat and think violence is the answer to everything.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s him, the weird bloke.’

  I sighed heavily. It’s like talking to a brick wall with some people.

  ‘So why should we come and talk to you?’

  ‘I already said. I need your advice.’

  I couldn’t help laughing out loud. ‘You’re kidding me. How could we possibly advise you? You don’t even live in the same world as us.’

  I could almost hear him squirming on the other end of the phone. Go on you bugger, I thought. You wriggle and squirm. It’s the least he deserved after what he’d done to me.

  ‘Look,’ he said finally. ‘If I wanted to give you a beating, d’you really think I’d invite you? Of course I wouldn’t, I’d just jump you when you least expected it.’

  I said nothing. I could almost hear his frustration on the other end of the line. Finally, he decided to offer something that might just interest me.

  ‘We can help each other out here. Aren’t you wondering why the police haven’t been around to interview you again?’

  Now there’s a thing. I’d forgotten all about the police. My curiosity was aroused now and I wondered how Nugent knew they hadn’t been around. There was also the question of who organised my meeting with the baseball bats...

  ‘So, what do you know about the police enquiry?’

  ‘Perhaps you’ll find out. Now, are you gonna come or not?’

  Against my better judgement, I agreed to meet him early the next evening at his club. I just hoped I wasn’t going to regret it.

  A huge yawn tried hard to split my head in two. I was really stiff. I suppose that’s what you get for falling asleep on the sofa. I finally got myself together enough to struggle to my feet and then shuffled round doing my curtain and light routine.

  I heard the front door open and close. It must be Jelena. I wondered if should I go to her, or if should I wait and see. Nothing seemed to be happening. Then finally I heard the unmistakable sound of sobbing.

  I found her in her room. The small collection of clothes we had bought just the other day were in a neat little pile on one side of the bed. She sat on the other side sobbing gently, her back to me.

  My head filled with ominous t
houghts. What if Sophia was not her long lost aunt? Had they fallen out? What could the problem be? I settled next to her and put my good arm around her shoulders.

  ‘Hey,’ I soothed, ‘come on now.’ She leaned into me as I gently stroked her hair. We sat like that for what seemed like an age, and then gradually the sobbing subsided and she began to settle. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ I asked.

  Wow! It was like a dam had burst. The words just poured out. I needn’t have worried – the tears were not sad tears at all. She was overcome with the emotion of it all, but she was also very, very happy. Her search had ended. Sophia was her aunt.

  Then she told me what she was upset about. ‘I really like be here with you. I am feel safe here. You have done much for me but cannot repay you. Is not fair on you. Aunt Sophia say I live with her and she right. Better this way.’

  Then she squirmed around so she was looking straight into my face and gave me a big, beaming smile. ‘But only round corner. Still come see.’ Then as an afterthought she added, ‘If you want see me.’

  It had only been what, three or four days, but I was really going to miss her. I tried hard not to show it.

  ‘I’d love to see you, anytime you want to come and see me.’

  Now she threw her arms around me and gave me a big hug. ‘Must go,’ she said, ‘Aunt Sophia make dinner.’

  ‘Here,’ I said. ‘Let me help you.’

  ‘Is alright.’ She laughed. ‘Only handful things.’ She scooped up her clothes and stood. Then she bent down and kissed me full on the lips. ‘Is not goodbye,’ she said. ‘I promise.’ And then she was gone.

  I sat there in sad silence for a few moments. I knew this was the best thing that could happen for her, but I was going to miss having her around. It was like someone had just turned out the lights.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Thursday morning was strangely quiet after the last few days. Fortunately, my arm seemed to be getting better and although it was still quite painful, I was starting to get a little movement back. Even so, by the time I’d showered, dressed and had breakfast it was past 11 o’clock.

  I had hours to kill until I was due to meet Nugent and I wondered idly what he wanted, and what had he meant about the police not following up with me? And then I remembered something else that had happened. How was it that Gloria had come to the hospital to pick me up? And how could I find out?

  Then I began to think how it might be quite pleasant to buy a nurse a coffee during her break. I had an excuse for being there. After all, I still had stitches in my head that needed removing. With any luck, as long as they hadn’t changed shifts, Gillian should be on duty when I get there.

  I was in luck. This particular Thursday was obviously a quiet one for the A&E staff. The waiting area wasn’t exactly empty, but there were only a couple of people there. I walked over to reception and asked for Gillian.

  The receptionist was obviously practised in the art of putting people down and did her best to make me feel as inferior as possible, but she finally realised I had a legitimate excuse for being there – I think it was the stitched head wounds that did it – and that I wasn’t going to go away. Eventually she instructed me to sit down and wait.

  There are only so many health awareness posters you can read before boredom sets in. I had just reached that point when I became aware of a hushed conversation taking place at the reception desk. When I turned to look, the receptionist and the nurse Gillian hastily looked away, but it was obvious I was the source of interest.

  I pretended I wasn’t really looking at them and carried on browsing my way through the posters. I half expected to be left here until boredom forced me to give up and go away, but then to my great surprise Gillian came over.

  ‘Mr Bowman,’ she said. ‘Are you alone?’

  I nodded. ‘Yes. Why?’

  ‘In that case, come with me and I’ll have a look at your stitches.’

  She led me over to a cubicle and directed me to sit on the bed. She prodded and poked around, first at my eye, then the back of my head. As she worked, she explained why she had asked if I was on my own. Apparently, Gloria had made such an impression on Saturday that the general feeling among all the staff was that she would only be allowed back onto the premises if she came as a patient.

  ‘Ah, yes,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry about that. But as you raised the subject, I wanted to ask you about that.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Well, do you remember, on Saturday you made a phone call for me?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I called the man you asked me to call. He said he would come and collect you.’ She pulled a face. ‘Then that nasty woman arrived.’

  ‘And you didn’t call her?’

  ‘No, I called the number you showed me. I didn’t know her number.’

  Curiouser and curiouser. If she had phoned Dave, that meant it must have been Dave who called Gloria. But why would he do that?

  Gillian poked the back of my head a couple of times then, satisfied with the progress my wounds were making, she made her decision. ‘You lie on the bed, and I’ll take out your stitches.’

  It wasn’t quite what I’d had in mind when I’d come up with the idea of buying her a coffee, but at least if she took them out now I wouldn’t have to come back again.

  When I called Positive Pete, he told me he was sorry, but he was otherwise engaged tonight. He was being distinctly cagey about what he was doing. If I had to guess, I’d have said he had a date, but I didn’t press him too much. I know for a fact he hadn’t had a date for couple of years and I didn’t want to embarrass him.

  He’d be much better off on a date anyway, no matter how nerve-wracking he found it. The last time we met Nugent he had become so nervous I had been worried he was going to have a heart attack. Going alone meant I only had myself to worry about.

  Nugent had asked me to meet him at six o’clock. I thought it was a bit of a weird time to meet, but I had nothing else to do so it didn’t really matter. Then, when I walked in, I understood why. Apart from the guy behind the bar, there was no one else around.

  Nugent was sat at the same table as last time. He had a pint and a huge cigar which he seemed to be using to create some sort of smokescreen to hide behind. There was another pint on the table which I assumed must be for me.

  ‘No good trying to hide,’ I said. ‘You stick out like a sore thumb.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Very droll. Don’t give up your day job for comedy.’

  As I sat down he looked expectantly at me and then at the door. Then he did it again just to be sure.

  ‘Well?’ He looked to the door again. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Your mate. The weird bloke.’

  ‘He can’t make it. He’s washing his hair. He sends his apologies.’

  ‘But it was him I wanted to talk to,’ he wailed, then he realised what I had said. ‘But he’s got no bloody hair to wash.’

  ‘Well, perhaps if you’d been a bit more affable last time we met, he might have been prepared to come along.’

  He looked hurt. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘You know exactly what I mean. All that intimidation bollocks. He doesn’t like it. Come to think of it, I don’t like it either.’

  ‘Call that intimidation? That was nothing.’

  ‘In your Neanderthal world I’m sure that’s true, but in the world we prefer to inhabit it’s unwelcome and unnecessary.’

  There was an awkward silence. I took a sip of my pint. The beer was good. So that’s one thing Nugent did have going for him. He glared at me, but I wasn’t going to be upset by that, so I took my time enjoying my beer.

  Eventually he spoke. ‘Look. We seem to have got off on the wrong foot.’

  ‘You really think so?’

  He held his hands up. ‘I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to tell me it’s all my fault for having you duffed up, and I will concede that probably wasn’t the best way
to make your acquaintance, but it is what it is, and I’m not going to keep on apologising.’

  ‘Well, I suppose it’s something that you actually know what an apology is. It would be too much to hope that you might actually be able to make one.’

  I let that one linger for a minute, but it was obvious he wasn’t going to take the hint so I carried on. ‘Right, ‘I said. ‘I’m here now, as you requested, so what’s this all about?’

  He coughed apologetically. ‘Ah, well. It appears I may have arranged one or two beatings for people who didn’t actually deserve it.’

  ‘Well, fancy that!’ I said. ‘Since when have you cared about something like that?’

  ‘I’ll have you know I have a reputation to protect.’

  ‘Ha! Yes, I’ve heard, but I shouldn’t worry. Beating up anyone, anytime, seems to fit perfectly with your reputation.’

  ‘I’ll have you know I’m hard, but fair,’ he said. ‘Hard, but fair.’

  ‘Not what I’ve heard, Nugent. The word is you’re some sort of nutter.’

  Ooh! I’d obviously found a sore point. His eyes blazed at the mention of the word ‘nutter’.

  ‘Will you help me or not?’ His irritation was definitely getting the better of him.

  ‘Give me one good reason why I should?’

  ‘Because you know Marie. And your weird mate must know her best of all. He used to be married to her.’

  ‘Oh! Getting to you, is she? Pete can certainly tell you all about that. She nearly destroyed him you know.’

  ‘I’m not bloody surprised. The woman’s a psycho. Been telling me all these people who need sorting out, turns out most of them haven’t done anything at all, except get on the wrong side of her.’

  ‘So what do you want me to do?’

  ‘How do I stop her?’

  ‘Just dump her. It’s not rocket science is it? Don’t tell me you’ve never dumped anyone before.’

  ‘It’s not that easy. She’s threatened to tell my missus.’