Dead Watch

by Steve Liszka

‘Here, here,’ Lenny shouted as the others nodded in approval.

  ‘Come on, Harrison. Calm down, mate,’ Jimmy said. ‘This ain’t helping matters.’

  ‘It’s making me feel a lot better. You know, a problem shared and all that.’

  Ian tried to smile and placed the papers on the desk back into his briefcase. ‘I know this was never going to be easy for you. I know how long you’ve worked at this station and that your dad worked here before you. I know all that, and that’s why I wanted to do the presentation tonight. I thought it was best, given our history.’

  Harrison laughed, then shook his head. ‘Given our history, you should have been out there with us, campaigning to save this station, you fucking turncoat. Just like you should have been out on strike with the rest of us, rather than riding around on that scab lorry with those other bastards. That’s what you should have been doing.’

  Harrison’s words made the room grow quiet. Everyone knew that the word he had just used was enough to get him the sack. They had been told, in no uncertain terms at the start of the strikes, it was no longer the 1980s, and that the staff who decided to work were to be treated with respect and dignity by their colleagues. A firefighter in another part of the country had been sacked for using the word on social media. But Harrison had already overstepped that mark; he had called a senior officer a scab to his face with a handful of witnesses present. The retirement and pension that he was due to receive in less than six months suddenly seemed like a distant memory.

  Ian closed his briefcase and, without saying another word, got out of his chair and left the room. Jimmy followed behind him, already pleading Harrison’s case. The others just sat there, staring at Harrison, not knowing what the hell to say to a man on death row.

  ‘I’ve got to give it to you,’ Lenny finally said. ‘That well and truly pisses on anything I’ve ever done wrong in this job. Looks like you’re the daddy now.’

  Return of the Mac

  ‘Careful!’ Lenny yelled at the two children charging towards him.

  One of them was dressed much like him in a mini-firefighters outfit, except it was black instead of the beige style that Sussex adopted. In the child’s hand was a plastic axe that must have come included in the set. His friend, for no reason that Lenny could see, was dressed as Thor.

  ‘How much longer is this going to last?’ he said to Jo, who was helping a little girl direct the hose reel at a wooden house. Its windows and doors spun around when they took a direct jet of water.

  ‘Chill out, Len,’ she said. ‘It’s only been going for an hour, and it’s all for a good cause.’

  ‘Yeah, well, their parents need to start upping their game. This ain’t a crèche.’

  It was the station open day, and this year, Red Watch had been unfortunate enough to catch it. Not that it was that bad, really. The day could actually be quite enjoyable when taken in the right spirit. But the thought of hundreds of kids descending on his place of work was too much for Lenny. One child was more than enough for him. He didn’t need to look after the rest of the town’s too.

  The open day was great PR for the station. Not only was it good for the community to see what firefighters did when they weren’t drinking tea and playing pool (the staff were well aware that some people had this idea about them), but it was also an excellent way of making some money for the Firefighter’s Charity. For years, it had been known as the Benevolent Fund, but the name had been changed when its patrons became aware that most people didn’t know what those words actually meant anymore.

  The charity did vital work in looking after firefighters and the families of firefighters who had been injured or killed. It ran a number of state-of-the-art facilities that dealt in the rehabilitation of all sorts of injuries ranging from spinal care for people who had suffered catastrophic injuries, to counselling for those affected by depression or post-traumatic stress. Unfortunately, these things were common for professionals who had to bear witness to some of the worst examples of human suffering.

  Although they had all bitched about the open day being on their shift again (they had caught it two years earlier), the Watch had thrown themselves into it. Wesley had taken to the microphone as the fire safety team did the chip pan demonstration; showing what happens when you pour water onto an oil fire. The kids squealed at the resulting fireball that was so hot, it warmed their hands and faces.

  Being a waterman, Bodhi had opted to be the one pelted with sponges that kids paid fifty pence a time to hurl at him. Considering the water was freezing, and the sun hadn’t revealed itself, he had taken it all in good spirits. Jimmy was policing the line of children that climbed into the back of the fire engine, tried on a helmet or BA mask, and then had their picture taken by their proud parents. If they hung around too long or started putting their dirty little paws on things that weren’t intended for them, he politely shooed them off.

  Even though it was Dylan’s annual summer leave, he had turned up with Felicity, and the two of them had done an impressive job selling raffle tickets for a bunch of prizes that local businesses had generously donated. It was at times like this, despite the cuts and all the bullshit that was going on, they truly became aware of the high esteem they were held in by their friends and neighbours.

  The only person on the Watch that wasn’t present was Harrison. Usually, he would have been in charge of the barbeque, but this year, a couple of the Green Watch boys had generously given up their free time to do it. Harrison had been suspended on full pay while the investigation into his outburst was taking place. The preliminaries had already been done; they just had his interview to go before a final judgement was made. The others tried not to talk about it, because they all knew what the outcome was likely to be. Their friend, the person they had all gone to in their own time of need, was more than likely fucked, and there was nothing any on them could do about it.

  As Jimmy gently chastised a little girl for trying to switch on the hand-held radio she was holding, he was suddenly alerted by the feel of someone firmly squeezing his bum. He turned around to see Jen standing there smiling at him.

  ‘Hello, sexy fireman,’ she said. ‘You look just like Mr July on my hunky firefighter calendar.’

  Jimmy laughed. ‘I’m pretty sure he had more hair than me and less of a gut.’

  George walked up to him and gave his father a friendly punch in the stomach. ‘You need your gut, Dad. It’s armour against my super punch.’

  Jimmy rubbed the boy’s head and tried not to show his discomfort, his son was getting strong. At least he’d stopped trying to punch him in the balls; that phase had been a painful six months.

  ‘Can we go in the fire engine now, Dad?’ Becky said.

  Jimmy looked into the back of the engine at the little boy trying to rip the BA mask away from its air-hose. Jimmy picked him up and handed the boy to his soppy father who had been too polite to tell him not to destroy property that belonged to someone else.

  ‘Go on then, you two,’ Jimmy said. ‘Climb on.’

  ‘How’s your morning been?’ Jimmy said to his wife as the kids fought over possession of the radio.

  ‘Not quite as busy as yours, by the looks of things, but we’ve been pretty full-on. George went to football practice, Becky had her ballet, and then, we went home and took the dog for a walk on the cliffs.’

  ‘Sounds like I’ve had it easy,’ Jimmy said. ‘Is your mother still coming around this afternoon?’

  ‘Yep,’ Jen said. ‘You know she never misses a Saturday afternoon with the kids.’

  ‘It’s nice for her to be around them,’ Jimmy said, meaning it. ‘It takes her mind off things, I reckon.’

  Jenny’s father had died two years earlier of prostate cancer, and three months earlier, her mum had discovered that she had it in her bowel. She had ruled out chemo before it was even suggested to her. She’d had a good life, but she was tired and was ready to meet up with Ted again, wherever he may have been.

  ‘She’s asked if t
he kids can stay at her house tonight. Becky’s desperate to go, and George is up for it, too, as long as he can take his tablet, but I haven’t said yes yet. You know what they can be like when they’re excited.’

  ‘Let them go,’ Jimmy said. ‘She won’t put up with any nonsense.’

  He looked around and seeing that no one was paying them any attention, he leant in and hugged his wife, then lowered his hand down for a cheeky squeeze of her arse.

  ‘Plus, if you play your cards right, you may get to have some one-to-one time with Mr July.’

  ‘That’s the best offer I’ve had all day,’ Jen said.

  ‘All right, Jim,’ he heard a voice say that made him quickly retract the offending limb. ‘This must be your lovely family.’

  He turned around to see Mac smiling at him. He was holding an untouched ice-cream cone in his hand.

  ‘Can I get the kids one of these?’ he said, holding it up.

  Jimmy stood there, momentarily unable to speak. ‘No, they’re good thanks,’ he finally said.

  ‘Who’s this, then?’ Jen asked, clearly unaware of the intensity in her husband’s face. He looked like he was ready to kill the man, while being terrified of him at the same time.

  Mac reached forward and shook Jen’s hand. ‘I’m an old mate – me and Jimmy go way back.’

  ‘Mac used to be on Green Watch at Central. He was my boss back in the day.’

  ‘Ah, that’s nice,’ Jen said. ‘So, you were one of the ones who moulded my husband into the man he is today. I don’t know if I should thank or slap you.’

  Mac laughed and place his hand on her shoulder. ‘You should definitely thank me. That’s a fine fella you’ve got yourself there.’

  Jen looked at him hard before speaking again. ‘You know, I thought I knew all of Jimmy’s work mates. I never missed a night out as long as we could get a babysitter. I’m sure we’ve never met before.’

  ‘Mac retired not long after I joined the Watch, and before that, he never really was one for social events. Ain’t that right?’

  Mac laughed again, ‘That’s right. I was the grumpy sod on the Watch, and I tell you what, I don’t miss it, either. Firefighting’s a young man’s game.’ He paused and focused his attention on Jimmy. ‘And it can be dangerous, too, if you’re not careful.’

  Jimmy looked into the back of the cab at Becky trying to rip the helmet that George was wearing off his head. ‘Come on, kids,’ he said. ‘Time to go now before you get Daddy into trouble.’

  Unlike the other children before them, the two of them got off the engine without a fight. Like most firefighters’ kids, they had spent so much time at the station that sitting on the back of the fire appliance was no big deal to them anymore.

  Jimmy turned and kissed his wife again. ‘I’ll see you later love, I won’t be late.’

  ‘Are you trying to get rid of us?’ Jen asked. ‘We’ve only just got here.’

  Jimmy tried his best to laugh, ‘Don’t be silly, it’s just that I’m planning to do an extension for Mac once the job I’m on is finished. We just need to talk shop for a few minutes.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Mac interrupted. ‘If I can’t make the most of my pension now, then what’s the point. You can’t take it with you.’

  ‘My thoughts exactly,’ Jen said, then turned her head as something caught her attention. ‘Oh, look, kids, there’s Uncle Bodhi. Who wants to go and throw a freezing cold sponge at his face?’

  ‘Me!’ Becky yelled.

  ‘Can I throw one at Lenny?’ George asked his mum.

  ‘Yeah, why not. I’m sure he’ll find it hilarious.’

  The kids smiled and waved at their father as they ran off to torment his workmates.

  When Jimmy looked back to Mac, his face was stone.

  Mac seemed oblivious, smiling at Jimmy’s family as they left. ‘That’s a beautiful family you’ve got yourself there. You’re a lucky man.’

  Jimmy ignore his words. ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Mac said. ‘I’ve just come to see my local firefighters hard at work. It’s lovely to see you guys integrating yourselves in the local community like this. Sort of thing that brings a tear to the eye.’

  ‘I said, what do you want? You’re not welcome here.’

  Mac looked around at Jimmy’s colleagues; each doing their best to entertain the kids. ‘So, where’s the old boy?’

  ‘Retired,’ Jimmy’s answer was curt. He didn’t want Mac knowing about Harrison’s plight.

  ‘Sensible man. Like I said, it’s a young man’s game.’ Mac leaned into the fire engine and studied the inside. ‘You know I’ve never been in one of these. What’s the chances of coming out for a ride with you?’

  ‘Zero fucking chance, that’s what.’ Jimmy checked himself when he heard how loud his voice had risen, he didn’t want the kids hearing him swearing. ‘I ain’t telling you again,’ he said in little more than a whisper. ‘Go now before I do something I regret.’

  The smile that Mac met him with was filled with more than a little sympathy. ‘Come on now, Jim. Don’t start all that nonsense again. I told you before what happens to tough guys, or have you forgotten our last conversation?’

  Jimmy held his tongue. He remembered the words they had shared at the racecourse.

  ‘All I need is a very quick chat. Yours and the rest of your mates, that is. Do you think you can arrange that for me?’

  ‘What’s it about?’

  ‘I’d rather not get into it now, if you don’t mind. Be a dear and speak to your boys. Tell them it’s got to be tonight. Let’s say half six, after you’ve finished work. You can even choose the venue. I can’t say fairer than that, can I?’

  Jimmy shook his head. ‘I imagine there’s nothing fair about a man like you.’

  Mac shrugged.

  ‘Seven o’clock, The Queen’s Head in Kemptown. You’ve got ten minutes, then that’s us done for good.’

  Mac held up his right hand with his fingers extended. ‘Five minutes, that’s all I need.’ He took a lick of his ice-cream, then turned and headed out of the yard. ‘Catch you later, Jim. Enjoy the shenanigans.’

  Rendezvous

  At ten-to-seven, they walked silently towards their destination. The young man that approached the group moved with a slight, but certainly not exaggerated, swagger. As he passed them, Dylan, who was leading the group, turned and looked to the others.

  ‘Did you see that?’ he said.

  The others said nothing, knowing what his next words were likely to be.

  ‘I’m telling you,’ he said. ‘I’d get so much cock action if I were gay. The boys love me.’

  ‘What do you mean if?’ Lenny said.

  Dylan rolled his eyes. ‘I’m getting married next year, Len.’

  Lenny snorted. ‘Big deal. Elton John was married.’

  ‘To a man.’

  ‘Nah, before that. Back in the eighties, he got hitched to a German woman.’

  ‘He’s right, Dyl,’ Jo said. ‘Plenty of gay men get married to women. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.’

  Dylan laughed. ‘I’m not ashamed. I’m quite comfortable with the idea of being a dick magnet.’

  ‘Drop the last word from that sentence,’ Lenny said, ‘and I’d say you were spot on. What do you think, Jim?’

  ‘I’d say you lot need to stop fucking about. Have you forgotten who we’re about to meet?’

  The fire station was situated close to a part of the city known as Kemptown. Something else based in Kemptown was the city’s gay quarter. Although Brighton was the gay capital of the country, most people who visited were often surprised when they were not immediately greeted by the view of thousands of same-sex couples openly displaying their love for each other. The truth was, Brighton, for the most part, was pretty much the same as any other city in the UK.

  It was only in Kemptown, or more specifically one street in Kemptown, where it became obvious that the c
ity had a healthy gay scene. It was situated just north of and parallel to the sea. It began its life in St James Street just above the pier and finished on St George’s Road, the best part of a mile away. This was the place where the gay bars, sex shops and bespoke clothes boutiques could be found. There was a rainbow flag hanging from almost every building. Kemptown was easily one of the most fun, vibrant parts of the city, even if it wasn’t as big as most people expected.

  It took about ten minutes on foot to reach the bars in Kemptown, and it was a journey worth taking in pursuit of a decent pub. There were a number of places closer to the station that they could get a drink in, but they all had the feel of working men’s club. The Queen’s Head had much better beer, a better atmosphere, and perhaps more important for them on this particular evening, it was busy enough that no one would pay any attention to the conversation they were soon to have with Mac.

  When they reached the bar, the group were confronted by a bouncer, who looked like he was only in his early twenties at the most, but was built like a cruise liner.

  ‘Bouncers at seven o’clock on a weeknight,’ Bodhi said. ‘Bit much, aye, Len?’

  Lenny eyed the slab of meat in front of them. ‘You can never be too careful. There’s always a few pricks around who want to start trouble. Even in a gay pub.’

  As they approached the entrance, the man stepped into the doorway, blocking their view of the pub’s interior. ‘Sorry, gentlemen, but this is a gay bar. There’s nothing here for you.’

  Lenny stepped forward so that his eyes were level with the boy-hulk’s chin. ‘I fancy a pint, not a blowjob. Now, step out of the way, there’s a good boy.’

  The bouncer blinked. He hadn’t been expecting resistance; his size was enough to deter most people from arguing with him. He cast his gaze from Lenny to Bodhi, then nodded at the surfer’s lower extremities. ‘He can’t come in dressed like that.’

  Bodhi was decked out in his usual outfit of board shorts, flip-flops and a hoodie. The joke went that you knew it was cold when Bodhi was no longer wearing shorts. You knew it was really cold when he had shoes on his feet. It wasn’t particularly funny, but it did sum up his fashion sense pretty well.