by Les Cowan
Approaching half an hour, however, and even Eric began to get twitchy. He had read everything of interest in sport, news, and the health page – even cooking and lifestyle – and had nothing else to occupy himself. He was also beginning to worry about something and kept looking at his watch every few minutes. Eventually Maggie got to the end of her tether and gave him an ultimatum.
“Right Eric,” she announced. “That’s half an hour we’re sat here freezing cold. Either you tell us what’s going on or we all go home. Right now. No ifs or buts. And you can walk back to Muirhouse. How about that?” Evidently this last part clinched it for him. After a few seconds swithering he decided that whatever they were waiting for might not be happening so maybe he should cut his losses and at least get a lift back.
“Awright,” he said reluctantly. “It’s aboot that lassie ye said wiz missin’. I ken whar she is. She’s wi’ a dealer ca’d Raúl.”
Suddenly nobody was complaining about the cold.
“So how come you couldn’t just have told us that before?” Maggie demanded. “What on earth have we been sitting here for? And why couldn’t you have told us in Drylaw? What’s with the mystery tour?” Eric was incredulous.
“Huv yiz no’ been listenin’?” he said. “I jist told you she’s wi’ Raúl. Huv you no’ heard o’ him? He’s a total bampot. I’m no talkin’ tae you onywhere I can get spotted by him ’n’ his pals.”
“Ok, I get that. But why the wait?” Maggie pressed him.
“Because she wiz supposed tae hav been here ten meenutes ago.”
“Who? Jen? On her way here?”
“Well, probably no’ noo. At least she might be but there’s a fair chance she’s no’.” He was deflated. No rabbit in the hat after all.
“Eric,” David took over. “Start at the beginning. What do you know about Jen and why do you think she should be meeting us here?” Eric took a deep breath and gave a long sigh.
“Have yiz no heard o’ Raúl?”
“Only that Jen’s mum had heard her talking about him,” Gillian put in. “She thought he might be a boyfriend.” Eric smiled grimly. David pursed his lips but said nothing.
“Well,” he said, “that’s wan way o’ pittin’ it. Raúl’s fae Spain. At least ah dinnae ken if he’s right Spanish or no’ but he wiz runnin’ a drugs thing in Spain. Then things wiz gettin’ a bit tough an’ tha’. The polis wiz out tae get him so the whole squad o’ them moved ower here. Tae get the polis aff their backs, like. Start up again. So tae get his crowd in and the other crowd out he had tae rough things up a bit.” Eric looked down at the floor and screwed up his paper. “Dinnae get me wrong noo. Ah’m no a wimp ’n’ that but thon was brutal. There wiz folk shot, cut tae bits, and the bits left in a black bag outside their hoose. Folk that scared they moved oot. Onybody that tried tae fight back ended up in the Western. That’s them that didnae end up aff their heeds in the Royal Ed.” Everyone was silent now, intent on the story. Gillian had a hand to her mouth and David stared at the floor. Jeff had thoroughly woken up and was twisted round in his seat.
“And how does Jen come into this?” Maggie prompted him more sympathetically now.
“Well. That’s the bit ah couldnae stomach. Ah take a bit o’ smack mysel’ noo and again so you kind o’ get used tae hearin’ aboot stuff that happens that shouldnae happen. But like ah said, this Raúl’s a complete bampot. Dizznae ken when tae stoap.” Eric paused as if trying to think exactly how to put the next bit. “An’ he likes lassies. Wee lassies, if yiz get ma meanin’. Jen wiz livin’ oan Pennywell Gardens. Just up fae me. So ah goat tae ken her a bit. Nice lassie. Then she started gettin’ into dope and stuff. Ah tried tae tell her no’ tae be sae daft but she wouldnae listen. Then she goat in wi’ Raúl’s mob. An’ he sees her and takes a fancy tae her. She’s only fifteen fur ony sake. He’s aulder ’an me!” Eric paused for effect. “Probably pushin’ forty! Ah tried tae warn her aaf but she wiznae listenin’. An’ she likes the money, an’ the cars, an’ the claez an’ bein’ wi’ the boss. So onywae, he’s no’ exactly the kind o’ bloak yid take home tae yir maw so she does a bunk and moves in wi’ him. But diznae tell naeb’dy whar she wiz. But then, now she’s livin’ wi’ the guy she starts seein things a wee bit different, ken? An’ maybe she wiznae feelin’ so smart at runnin’ away. But she’s wi’ Raúl noo an’ she kens whit he’s like and it’s no sae easy. Ken what ah’m sayin’? Then the polis are round lookin’ fur her. Then you lot turned up and ah thought noo’s ma chance. If ah can get a note tae her, we could get her oot and you could look after her an’ that.”
It all seemed so simple in Eric’s mind. Whether she wanted to get out, whether she would drop everything just like that, and what might happen to whoever was harbouring her supposing she did get out – all questions he hadn’t considered. There was silence as the implications sank in.
“So what did you do after you were at the van?” Maggie articulated each word slowly and clearly, as if asking a child how come the dog had eaten his homework yet again.
“Well, ah keep well away fae Raúl so ah couldnae jus’ waltz in an’ that. An’ ah wiz wi’ wan o’ his crowd up at the van – Miguel – he’s awright sometimes – so I gied him the slip an’ wrote her a wee note and gie’d it tae wan o’ her pals – Michelle – an’ says fur her tae gie it tae Jen as soon as she could. Tellin’ her if she wanted oot tae meet us in the park at wan o’clock in the mornin’. ’Shell has a wee Fiesta so she could run her. Nae worries.” There was another pause as this latest bit of brilliant thinking sank in.
“Eric, you know you are just amazing!” Maggie said with feeling. Eric brightened up and smiled.
“Nae bother. Ah thoat yid be pleased!”
“Pleased? I’m ecstatic! Do you know, that is the stupidest, most ridiculous, most absurd, most ludicrous, least likely to succeed, half-baked idea I have ever heard!” Eric was stunned but Maggie was just warming up. She turned and bawled right in his face. “Do you know what you’ve done?” Eric’s mouth was open but nothing was coming out. Evidently he did not. “For starters the chances of her getting a note from her best friend Eric are about zero. If this Michelle has any sense she’d roll it up and smoke it before she tried to pass it on. Second of all, assuming she does get it, how do you know she wants to leave enough to trust herself to you, ye big eejit! Then, let’s assume she does get the note and she wants out, do you think Raúl is going to be ok with his wee girlfriend going for a drive in the country at one o’clock in the morning? That’s if Michelle feels like taking her.
“Then, supposing all that and she turns up here, who’s to say she’s not been followed and we get asked in the nicest possible way why my soup van is offering a lift to the boss’s wee bit of stuff in the middle of the night? And even if not, who the hell is going to take her in with big bad Raúl after them? Have you thought of that? What were you on when you thought this one up Eric? Whatever it was, it’s only available in Muirhouse! It’s you that’s the crazy bampot – not Raúl!” Again there was quiet but this time it was a stunned silence as everyone thought through the implications of what Maggie had just said. Eric didn’t even try to defend himself. Maggie sat and fumed. Gillian sat speechless in the back and Jeff was looking out of the window. David broke the silence.
“I think the sooner we get out of here the better. You’ll have to take your chances back in Muirhouse Eric, but Maggie and Jeff are nothing to do with this. I think it would be good if we could get moving. Right now.”
Just then Jeff looked out of his window back down the hill.
“Hey up,” he said. “Here’s the young lady now. Maybe.” There was a pause as they watched headlights bouncing up the hill. Whoever it was wasn’t sticking to the speed limit.
“I used to have a Fiesta,” Gillian said quietly. “That’s not a Fiesta.”
“Start the engine, Jeff,” Maggie said quietly. “Let’s get out of here. Nice
and easy.”
As they began to back out of their space, a large black BMW 4x4 screeched round into the car park and pulled to an emergency stop about twenty yards away. Both near-side windows were down. A short, thick, stubby, black barrel poked out of each. Then the back of the van exploded. Chunks of metal and glass sprayed in every direction. Gillian screamed and was thrown against the counter. Everyone in the front seat flattened themselves below window height as the whole van rocked from side to side. Another bang, then a screech of tyres as the BMW took off. Suddenly everything was eerily quiet. There was blood everywhere. Jeff had his arms over his head and his head down against the steering wheel. David was on the floor at his feet. Only Maggie was sitting up. She was silent for barely a second then turned to Eric and started beating him with her fists.
“My van!” she screamed. “Look what you’ve done to my beautiful van!”
Chapter 13
Little France
After years of overcrowding, traffic congestion, bad parking, trolleys in corridors, and lack of storage, the Royal Infirmary move from Lauriston Place backing onto the Meadows, down to the new site at Little France, south of the city, was welcome all round. Some thought the district was named after Mary, Queen of Scots’ servants, while others said it was French cloth workers who had settled there in the seventeenth century. In either case, it was a pleasant, open site with brand new buildings, good parking, and the busiest A&E department in Scotland. It was also a straight run from where the radial route round Holyrood Park came out at the Commonwealth Pool at the top of Dalkeith Road. They reckoned that was what saved Gillian’s life. The couple in the car next to them raised the alarm. The driver, a medical student, using his scarf as a makeshift tourniquet, slowed the loss of blood and braced an arm that might be broken. Eric, in a state of shock, sat there shaking. Maggie, though as white as a sheet, recovered quickly and got into the back to clear up some of the mess and make Gillian more comfortable. David phoned Juan to make sure there hadn’t been an attack on Hacienda, Southside or his own flat – if Raúl had worked out the connections. They agreed to check everything and then meet at the hospital.
If Jeff was used to pushing the old van, that night he outdid himself. Half-way down Dalkeith Road they were met by police coming in the opposite direction who did a U-turn and escorted them right to the door. Even in Edinburgh an ancient Commer van with half of one side blown in couldn’t be easily missed. A stretcher team was waiting and Gillian was immediately whisked off. The others – including Andy the medical student and his girlfriend Li Mei – were treated for cuts and shock. David and Maggie had been out of the line of fire but were badly shaken up. On the way to the hospital Maggie realized there was no point shouting at Eric any more and gave up. Now she sat in the waiting room in a daze, every few minutes wrapping her sheepskin denim jacket more tightly around her and walking out to the car park for another cigarette and a look at the remains of the van. The dragon motif had almost completely disappeared. The side of the van was a mess of tangled metal. One massive rend in the middle with mangled razor edges and a thousand pellet holes led up to the driver’s window which was no longer there. Jeff had come close to having the entire right side of his face shredded like coleslaw.
David had cuts cleaned and pellets of metal and plastic picked out of his scalp. Physically he wasn’t too bad but seemed to be in a complete daze. When Juan and Alicia appeared they gathered him up and held onto him. He had the expression of a man who could not take in what had just happened. It was as if he had woken up in the morning to find his bedroom furniture hanging from the ceiling. “It’s impossible…” he kept saying. “Not again…” Juan put his hand on David’s head and was quietly praying continuously in Spanish.
Although physically least hurt, Eric was in some ways in the worst state of all, convinced the devastation of the van was just a warning shot and that he could look forward to the full treatment as soon as he set foot back in Muirhouse. He was also desperate for a fix but could not convince any of the medical staff that this was an appropriate remedy. Sedation did some good but he just kept muttering to himself, swaying back and forward, and chewing his fingernails.
When everybody had been seen and patched up the police officers who had escorted them took statements and offered to take people home. The van was evidence and impounded so Maggie and Jeff got a lift home to Gorgie. Andy and Li Mei were able to get home under their own steam to try to explain to Li Mei’s dad why they weren’t in by 12:30 as promised. Juan and Alicia wouldn’t hear of David going back to Bruntsfield and nobody had the heart to try to send Eric home to Muirhouse, so it was agreed all five of them would stay at the flat upstairs from the restaurant. Medics wouldn’t let anyone see Gillian, but David insisted to the point of telling them he was her minister. Juan backed him up until he was allowed onto the corridor where he could see her through the tiny window in the door. One arm was in plaster, her neck was braced, she had a dressing on her scalp, monitors and wires seemed everywhere, and a drip went into the back of one hand. She was in a green hospital gown against snowy linen. Despite it all David still thought her jet black hair beautiful around the whiteness of her face and the pillows. She looked pale but peaceful and the registrar assured him she was out of danger thanks to a massive transfusion. The arm was set, metal in her back that had caused the bleeding had been removed, and otherwise it was cuts and bruises though maybe a cracked rib too – the X-ray wasn’t conclusive.
David’s face was a similar colour to the white linen on the bed. “Gracias a Dios,” he muttered.
Juan and Alicia’s flat was comfortable for two but a squeeze for six, with Tomas already in temporary residence. Eric was given a foam roll and a sleeping bag, a generous shot of Lepanto, and bundled into the spare room. Juan, Alicia, and David flopped down in the living room. Hacienda would be closed the following day till they thought what to do next. Alicia disappeared to make a quick supper as Juan and David sat in silence. Twenty minutes later with something hot and a bottle of Campo Viejo on the table they finally sat together. Gentle snoring could be heard from the spare room.
“Well,” David began, “it’s the same Raúl. El Niño. No two ways.”
“Claro,” Juan replied. “Do you know, I thought I recognized him when they came into the restaurant. I only saw him once in Spain, but of course he had a reputation.”
“Now he’s here to make a bigger reputation.”
“Well, he’s certainly succeeded,” Alicia added quietly. “Your friend Eric was terrified to go home.”
“If only I’d recognized his face when they came in,” Juan reproached himself. “Maybe I could have warned you. Maybe all this wouldn’t have happened.”
“You don’t need to feel guilty,” David replied gloomily. “If I’d stopped to think for a second I would have guessed what was going on and gone to the police instead of trying to take it on myself – and getting Gillian involved.”
“Don’t forget the van was her idea,” Juan reminded him. David grunted as if to say, you may be right but that doesn’t make it any better. For a few seconds the only sound was that of tortilla and Rioja disappearing.
“You like her, don’t you?” Alicia asked abruptly, looking at David.
“Of course. We all like her.”
“That’s not what I mean,” she smiled at him. “You really like her.” David was silent for a moment.
“I can’t afford to really like her, as you put it,” he said slowly. “She’s not a believer – as far as I know. It wouldn’t work. And I nearly got her killed tonight.”
“And was Rocío a believer when you fell in love?”
“That was different. Neither of us had a spiritual outlook then. We both came to faith later.”
“And is God able to bring Gillian to faith?”
“Of course. But she has choices too. What then? I’m involved with a woman who doesn’t have faith? That ju
st makes everything much harder. We’ve seen it too many times. The values, the outlook, the priorities – they’re all just far too different. I’m not prepared to put myself – and her – through all of that.”
“I’ve had a feeling about Gillian ever since you brought her in,” Alicia continued thoughtfully. “From the first time I set eyes on her I’ve always thought of her like a sister. You’re right together. Something’ll happen. You’ll see.”
David cleared his throat. “Well, anyway, back to Raúl. What exactly do we know – besides the obvious and besides what Eric said? What’s he doing in Edinburgh? You’re sure it’s the same man?”
“De verdad. Raúl Álvarez. El Niño. Part of Escobar’s outfit in Colombia. They were hounded out when Escobar was shot and some of the gang moved to Spain. I’m guessing that when things got too hot there – remember Rodriguez and his five hundred policías – he had to move on again. So he must be setting up business in Edinburgh. It was definitely him in Hacienda last night with his associates and their women. There was a younger girl who didn’t understand Spanish. I would bet this month’s profits it was Jen. I just never thought at the time. ¡Cielos! I was serving their meal. I never guessed!”
“I’m sure you’re right. They were tipped off after Reckless Eric here basically wrote them a letter saying come and get us. Raúl’s obviously not a man to do things by halves. The question now is – does the girl want to leave, as Eric thought, and if so, is there any way to realistically help her, without getting blown up again?”
