by Echo Freer
‘Jen, it really isn’t a good time here. We’re swarming with blokes putting up the marquee and there’s caterers coming out of the woodwork. And the way my mum’s flapping around, she makes a headless chicken seem like a Buddhist on a meditation retreat. Anyway, I was just going to take the dogs out.’
‘Great - I can meet you over at the café and you can bring something for me to wear tomorrow.’
Mercedes was just about to protest when Jenny fed her the line that had her hooked.
‘And I’ll fill you in on all the goss about Harley Spinks.’
‘What about Har-?’ she paused as her mother clicked by on her kitten-heeled slippers, screaming into her mobile.
‘It ain’t big enough. No way. I told you lot last week, I got two hundred for a sit-down and then we got a disco and a Queen tribute band. What d’you do, nick it from a bleedin’ scout camp or something?’ As Laverne passed her daughter she forced a grin and mouthed, ‘Orright, babes?’ before continuing with her tirade. ‘Listen mate, I don’t give a monkey’s. Just sort it, orright!’
Mercedes returned to Jenny. ‘OK. Where’s he taking you?’ she asked, reluctantly.
Jenny giggled. ‘Can’t tell you.’
Mercedes wasn’t in the mood for games. She sighed, impatiently. ‘How about my embroidered jeans and Ted Baker top and I’ll see you over the caff in about twenty minutes?’
Mercedes waited while Jenny held the clothes up in front of her and did a twirl round the café.
‘You’re itching to know where we’re going, aren’t you?’ Jenny teased.
‘Not really - I’m just waiting for you to spill the beans on our pebbled-dashed friend.’
Jenny pushed the clothes back into the carrier and sat down. ‘OK, get this; when Fern was going to work yesterday morning she saw Harley Spinks hanging around by the steps at Snaresbrook station and she was all dressed up in a business suit. Apparently she looked like a cross between an undertaker and a prison warder.’
Mercedes shuddered at the reference to prison warders. ‘And? I don’t get what’s the hot goss about that.’
‘Well,’ Jenny continued, unable to conceal her excitement. ‘Apparently she’s not doing her work experience at the tennis club any more. In fact, she told Fern that she’s given up tennis, so you might be in with a chance of winning the tennis cup when we go back. Isn’t that brilliant?’
The tennis cup! Mercedes smiled at the irony; she’d been so wrapped up in trying to keep herself and her family out of prison that the school tennis cup seemed about a million light years away. ‘Yes, brilliant.’
‘But wait for this,’ Jenny could barely contain herself. ‘She told Fern that she’s working with her dad now. So you know what that means?’
Mercedes knew only too well what it meant but she wanted to find out Jenny’s interpretation first. ‘No.’
‘Oh, come on! It means that we were right about her all along. If her dad’s the big-time criminal everyone makes him out to be and Harley’s going to work for him, then it means she really is the lowest lowlife in the entire history of low-living!’
Mercedes shuffled uncomfortably. ‘We shouldn’t judge other people, Jen. My nan’s got this old record by some woman called Joan Baez and there’s a song on it called, “There but for fortune”.’
Jenny looked bemused. ‘Huh?’
‘Think about it.’
‘Honestly, Mercedes, what’s got into you since you started work at that bank? You’ve been acting really weird all week. Have you caught religion or something?’
Just then Mercedes caught sight of a face she recognised at the door of the café. She kicked Jenny indicating for her to keep quiet and look nonchalant.
‘Two teas please, Jase.’ It was Gary, the man from the building site. ‘And a bacon sarnie.’ He went back to the door and shouted towards the small car park, ‘You want a bacon sarnie with yours, Sid?’
Sid - that was the name Mercedes had seen written on the piece of paper in Frankie’s study with a list of times below it. The second man appeared in his security guard uniform and this time he had his jacket over his shoulder with the Boreham’s bank logo clearly visible. Mercedes stared at the floor, desperate not to be seen.
‘Let’s have a look.’ He read from the large menu that was painted on the wall. ‘Nah! I think I’ll have a gut- buster,’ he said, referring to the sausage, bacon, burger and egg sandwich that was named so descriptively.
‘What you doing, stocking up to prepare yourself for a long stint in hospital?’ Gary laughed. ‘You’re gonna be getting your guts busted well enough without that.’
‘Leave it out.’ Sid seemed irritated by the other man’s joke.
‘Only winding you up, mate.’
‘Well don’t.’
‘What’s this, Sid? You in for a spell with the old Nasty Health Service,’ Jason asked as he flipped two rashers of bacon, a sausage and a beefburger on to the griddle behind the counter.
‘Nah! Gary’s just ’aving a laugh, ain’t you, Gaz?’ Sid glared at his mate as he said the words through gritted teeth.
The two men took their teas and sat at the table behind the girls while they waited for their food. Mercedes leant backwards in an attempt to listen in to their conversation.
‘You should learn to keep your trap shut, Gary.’
‘Stop getting your Y-fronts in a whirl - Jason’s a safe geezer, you know that.’
‘The sooner you learn that no one’s safe the better. And anyway, you ain’t the one what’s in for a battering.’
Mercedes ears pricked up.
‘Gordon Bennet, Sid! Enough of the bleedin’ ’eart. It ain’t like you’re not getting paid. Your cut’s at least three times what I’m getting.’
‘Well for one thing that’s ’cos I’ve got invaluable knowledge what they need, right? And for another - it ain’t worth it.’
‘You know your problem, mate? You don’t know when you’re on to a winner. You get roughed up a bit, a few days being waited on by some pretty young nurses, maybe even some compensation from the bank and then Bob’s your uncle: all back to normal and enough dosh to take the missus to see your nipper down under.’
So that was it! Sid was the insider. He was the security guard at the bank, that must be what the list of times was in Frankie’s folder; his shifts on duty. Sid was going to be the one who got the gang in but it needed to look as though he’d put up some resistance, so they were going to have to knock him about a bit to make it look genuine. Mercedes leaned forwards on her chair and folded her arms. She was furious! Not only were her brothers planning to steal other people’s money but now, she discovered, someone was getting hurt in the process. And not just in an accidental, ‘Oops, sorry mate - didn’t mean to bash your head in’ kind of way either. This was all premeditated.
‘Cheers, Jase,’ Gary said as Jason brought the men’s food across.
While he was there, he leaned across and spoke to Mercedes. ‘You all right there, Mer-’ Mercedes glowered at him and shook her head, almost imperceptibly. ‘Mer... my darlings.’ Jason corrected himself.
Mercedes gave Jenny’s leg a kick and indicated that Jenny should be the one to respond.
Jenny looked quizzically at her friend. ‘Erm, yes, I think so. Aren’t we?’ she asked Mercedes.
Mercedes sighed and nodded. How on earth was she supposed to do undercover work with a sidekick like Jenny?
‘What’s going on?’ Jenny whispered when Jason had gone.
Mercedes shrugged. ‘I’m not sure, but I think it’s best if you don’t know.’ Which wasn’t entirely a lie.
‘You heard that Chubby’s off the job?’ Gary said through a mouthful of bacon sandwich.
Mercedes was alert again and she leaned back to hear more.
‘That don’t su
rprise me,’ replied Sid. ‘So who’s the driver then?’
‘ ’Orace.’
Sid almost choked on his gut-buster. ‘Blimey! That should improve their... I mean our chances a bit then. So apart from that it’s all sweet for next Friday?’
‘Yeah.’
‘You going to the meet Sunday?’
‘Compulsory, mate. Compulsory.’
The two men chuckled and carried on eating their food. Mercedes was half relieved that Chubby was off the role of driver but also upset that they seemed to be casting aspersions on her brother’s ability. She was feeling restless and if it hadn’t been for the fact that she wanted to find out as much as she could about the robbery, she would have left.
‘Hey, d’you hear he’s got a girlfriend?’ Gary laughed.
‘What, Chubby? No way!’
Jenny’s eyes widened and she was about to express her surprise when Mercedes gave her a look that would have silenced a lion mid-roar.
So that was what he’d been on about. Three times that week he’d tried to prise information out of her about how she would like to be treated by a boy. ‘If you’d given somebody your number do you think it’d be OK to phone them the next day, or leave it a bit?’ he’d asked her. And then, ‘Merce, do you think blokes should buy women flowers, or is it a bit nerdy?’ ‘Hey, sis, let’s say, just for instance, that you fancied this boy, right...’ Finally, thinking that her nan must have told Chubby about Zak and he was winding her up, she’d almost bitten off his head. ‘Get off my case, will you! My love-life has nothing to do with you or anyone else in this family!’ Poor Chubby. She’d wondered why he’d looked like Genghis when Laverne had accidentally pierced his tail with her stiletto as a puppy. She made a mental note to talk to him when she got home.
She focused her attention on the conversation behind her again.
‘Too right!’ Gary went on between mouthfuls. ‘It’s this old bird what works for the council and he ain’t half got the hots for her.’
Both men sniggered and Mercedes was incensed. She needed to get out of there before she leapt to her brother’s defence and totally blew her cover. She would have preferred it if she’d been able to suss out the time and venue for the meet but she’d heard enough for one day.
Outside, Jenny had one last shot at probing her for information. ‘What is this all about? Is Chubby in some sort of trouble?’
‘I don’t want to talk about it.’
Jenny sighed. ‘Oh well, I’ll see you tomorrow then.’
‘No you won’t, Jen - remember? It’s Nan’s party and I’m going to be helping in the morning and then the whole thing kicks off at three.’
‘Oops!’ Jenny squealed excitedly. ‘I know - I’m coming.’
Mercedes felt sick. ‘What?’
‘When I rang up tonight, your nan answered and she invited me.’ Jenny grinned. ‘Donovan had suggested that we go out on Saturday anyway, so I thought - let’s kill two birds with one stone. I was going to make it a surprise but you know me and secrets; I’m hopeless.’
This was awful. Jenny already knew Chubby and, much to Mercedes amazement, had accepted her explanation that Chubby’s presence at the Terra Firma the previous week had been purely social: Donovan’s brother must have made a mistake in identifying him as one of the owners. If she came to the party though, she couldn’t help but recognise Frankie and Uncle Horace as well. Coupled with the conversations she’d overheard and even with Jenny’s lack of mathematical ability, she couldn’t help but put two and two together and come up with something roughly between three and five.
‘No!’ Mercedes said, rather more sharply than she’d intended. ‘I mean, it’s supposed to be family only.’
‘Well, try telling your nan that!’ Jenny said, obviously put out. ‘She’s invited me and told me to bring some friends along too.’
This whole business was turning into an even worse nightmare than Mercedes could possibly have imagined. If Donovan went, he’d be bound to recognise her brothers and then he’d tell Zak and the whole thing would be out in the open. She had to stop Jenny turning up at all costs.
‘Believe me, Jen you don’t want to be there. It’ll be really crap with a load of old fossils gassing away about the good old days. Really, it won’t be worth it. You’d be better off going to the cinema or something.’
‘Really?’ Jenny cocked her head on one side. ‘That’s interesting, because your nan told me that there was going to be a hog roast in the afternoon with a juggler and fire-eater and then a sit-down meal in the evening followed by a disco and Freddy Mercury look-a-like.’
Sugar! Since when had Nanny Bent believed that honesty was the best policy?
‘Still,’ Jenny went on, ‘nice to know who my friends are, isn’t it?’ She pushed the carrier bag of clothes at Mercedes. ‘I don’t think I’d have felt right wearing your clothes to a party at your house, anyway.’ And with that, she turned towards Whipps Cross Road and home.
Mercedes untied the dogs and walked off in the opposite direction. What on earth was happening to her life? She’d found and lost the most fantastic boy she’d ever met, discovered that everything she’d believed about her family was built on deception, upset Chubby and now she’d alienated her best friend. Meanwhile, back at the poolside, the Bent matriarchy were frenetically orbiting Planet Party, unaware that their future freedom lay in Mercedes’ hands. She picked up a large lump of wood and hurled it angrily across the rough grassland behind the café. As she watched Attila and Genghis bound after it, she folded her arms and wondered if, by this time next week, she’d have anyone left in her life.
Ten
Zak drummed his fingers on the top of the steering wheel then dropped his head forward so that it rested between his hands. ‘I’m not sure this is such a good idea.’ The Beetle was parked on Honey Drive but, because the private road resembled the overcrowded forecourt of a four-wheel drive distributor, it was about five hundred yards from the Bent house.
‘Course it is - it’s brilliant,’ Jenny reassured him from the passenger seat. She turned to the back of the car. ‘Isn’t it, Donovan?’
Donovan shrugged. ‘I can see why you’d want me on your side but, sorry - I’m with Zak on this one. I’m thinking - if she was at all interested, she’d have rung him but the fact that she hasn’t means she isn’t! It doesn’t need an agony aunt to work that one out.’
‘Cheers, Dono!’ Zak said, sarcastically. ‘Way to boost my confidence!’
‘No worries, mate.’
‘Honestly! Why don’t you believe me?’ Jenny sighed and opened the car door regardless of her companions’ reluctance. ‘She is interested. Trust me. And what’s the worst that could happen anyway? She could refuse to see you and never speak to you again but, as that’s already happened, so what?’
Zak took the keys out of the ignition and nodded. ‘True.’
‘Great! Come on.’
As the three of them approached the house they couldn’t fail to notice the music growing louder and louder until, by the time they reached the gate, it had reached a level worthy of the fairground on Wanstead Flats. Billows of smoke rose from behind the house and the smell of roasting meat permeated the sticky afternoon air.
Donovan surveyed the driveway with dismay. ‘Jeez, man! They’re going to need to raise all the low bridges around here if these four wheel drives get any higher. It’s like the Inspector Gadget car convention.’
Zak smiled nervously but Jenny seemed oblivious to anything other than her purpose for the afternoon. ‘You see, I don’t think that this has got anything to do with you, Zak. I’ve known her since we were eight years old and believe me, I know when something’s not right. And I also know that Mercedes is the last person in the world to ask for any help. So, look on this as a mercy mission; you’ve come along to rescue a damsel in distress.’
‘Just chill, mate,’ Donovan advised. ‘You’re jumpier than a kangaroo on a pogo stick.’
Easy for Donovan to say: he was already assured of Jenny’s affection. Zak, on the other hand, hadn’t a clue where he stood with Mercedes and that had never happened to him before. Ever since he’d pulled Carmen McParton at the school disco when he was fourteen, he’d been able to go out with any girl he’d wanted - until now. He was finding it very unnerving. And almost as unnerving was the fact that when they reached the front door, they were confronted by two bouncers whose bulky frames all but filled the space in the cavernous vestibule. One bouncer stepped forward and asked to see their invitations.
Jenny smiled easily. ‘Oh, we haven’t got invitations. We’re friends of Mercedes and her nan only invited us on Thursday.’
The man spoke into his walkie-talkie checking out the validity of what Jenny had said but, while he was waiting for a response, the other heavy leaned forward and spoke to Donovan.
‘Here, you ain’t got a brother what’s a DJ, have you?’
Donovan looked shocked. ‘Yeah,’ he answered, hesitantly.
‘Gor - you don’t half look like him an’ all,’ the bouncer grinned. ‘He works down the club where we work. Here,’ he said to the other doorman, ‘this is Dylan’s bro. Peas in a pod, or what?’ After a brief discussion as to the family likeness between Dylan and Donovan, the group were waved into the house.
‘What a coincidence,’ Jenny said as they walked through the hall, towards the kitchen. ‘How many clubs does your brother work at?’
‘Just the one,’ Donovan replied.
