CHAPTER - 8

8 

 

 

What this fella wanted was anyone’s guess but one thing was sure it was obvious serious stuff was occurring. My main concern: when one person watched others might be lurking somewhere in the background. Others who were sure to be of a not so nice disposition. But Take Six man stayed put, probably waiting for me to emerge from the front door. What the hell did he want? One thing was certain, I had no idea.  

A thought struck me. He had watched Monkie scamming the green Jag driver. Had even stepped out of the Burger Bar onto the pavement chewing away on that cheese burger. To get a good view I assume. It must have been the show that had attracted him. Maybe he was a Monkie victim but if that was the case why did he not just cross the road for a confrontation. The impression I had was he was likely more than capable of putting his point of view across rather persuasively. He could even have had a word with green Jag man. Something was up and I had one of those feelings. The nasty ones that said grief was about to unfold. I glanced at my watch. Coming up to ten. I needed to get away and catch up with Monkie but not via the front door that was a certainty. 

Marge had finished in the kitchen and I could hear her upstairs in her bedroom. Her door must have been open because the sound of her chirping was very clear. I shouted up the stairs that I was going out to head to the garage early. I know she heard me. The singing stopped and I heard a cheerful okay. She already knew I worked until ten on a Sunday so there was no need to tell her I wouldn't be in for dinner. 

Like most 1930’s estates the houses were back to back. Grabbing my bomber jacket, I pulled it over my white T-shirt, slipped out of the back door and briskly down the garden path to the rear feather edge boarded fence. Not so high, four feet or so. Marge liked a natter and the lady at the back was one of her friends. Hopping over in the corner where the fence was strongest I moved quickly over the lawn, down the side passage. Stopped at the front corner of the house. Scanned the street making sure the back exit was not being watched then out onto the next street. Turned right and headed to the station but took the back way down the alley past the school. It was longer but avoided the main road. Kept a sharp eye out for that white Capri as I approached the end of the alley. One street to go and I almost sprinted to the station entrance. The flower Doris was still there with new stock. Maybe Sunday was a good day for her with people out and about visiting. Perhaps going somewhere for Sunday dinner. 

I used trains a lot. After all, it was the best way to get into town so I was on slightly more than nodding terms with the Derek in the ticket office, the one with the grumpy disposition. The thing with ticket clerks was they dealt with so many people they became kind of hypnotised, getting stuck in a mundane, repetitive process. This particular Derek was no exception. His look of feigned amusement was no less or more than usual. The half smile of recognition slumped when he spoke, turned into a scowl as he fiddled with the cash, but was restored as he handed me my ticket. A single as I hoped to cadge a lift home from Monkie. He then stared over my shoulder at the next customer, a lady with a frown that creased her brow. 

As I moved towards the platform I heard the lady say, “Oh, I thought it would be less than that.” 

I stopped and listened to the Derek’s testy voice, “That’s the correct fare to London, darling,” he said. 

“But,” she continued, “my mother’s ill. I need to get there today.” 

I heard a long sigh, “I’m really sorry, but that’s the fare.” 

She stood a moment until the Derek ignored her and shouted, “Next.” 

I could see tears in her eyes as she turned to leave, “How much short are you?” I said. 

“Three shillings.” She was nearly crying now. 

I fished out a ten bob note and said, “Here, take this and buy a cuppa while you wait.” 

“But, how will I pay you back?” She sniffled. 

“I’m always getting the train from here. If you see me and you’ve the cash, you know…” Then I just smiled and walked onto the platform. Glanced back and watched her rejoin the queue. Saw the Derek glance my way and actually throw me a proper smile. I sensed he felt bad but could not have done anything about it. Her frown had disappeared. Grinning, I thought about how little incidents make the world go around. 

 

Why so many people should be about on a Sunday morning was anyone’s guess. The platform was rammed. With so much going on I needed to remain as inconspicuous as possible so hung back against the wall to the left side of the entrance where I had a good view and could check people coming in. Stations could be a bad place to be if there was a person wanting a sharp word with you. I was thinking of Don. Escape routes were limited but the trains could be even worse. In those days some carriages were made up of compartments with no corridors. Each was only accessible through the in-out doors. Get into one with those with an undesirable companion and there was definitely no escape. That thought made me slink back deeper into the shadows. 

The wait was only a few minutes. The train rocked to a halt but I waited. Watched the platform empty. Listened to the doors slam. I noticed the two compartmented carriages so shifted down the platform towards the front of the train where I'd seen four open ones. Glanced back up the platform. Nobody suspicious lurked. Saw the guard right down the end begin to lift his flag and hopped on. Found a seat next to a fella reading the Sunday paper and smoking a tipless. I glanced at the long no smoking sign stuck on the window but said nothing. The carriage was full of smoke anyway.  

After fifteen minutes I was out of the station and walking towards town hoping it wasn’t going to rain. Down the High Street, through the market to the phone box by the river on the road that headed out towards Ditton. Fished out four pence and dialled. 

Pressed the button and said to the girl who answered, “Is Tommy there?” 

Heard a long yell and a muffled, “Don’t know, I didn’t ask.”  

Waited a moment, heard the phone clatter,then Monkie said, “Yeah.” 

“It’s Rich… Was that your sister?” 

“Yeah… what’s that knocking?” 

“There’s a lady with a pickled face tapping on the phone box door.” 

“You’re in a phone box?” 

“That’s why she’s tapping on the door.” 

“The impatient type?” 

“Definitely. That’s why she has a pickled face.”  

“Where are you?” 

“By the river just past the Crown… Fancy a coffee?” 

“Is that a come and pick me up?” 

“Not so much… I normally get the bus to the garage. Just now though it’s too early for work… So how about coffee? I’m paying.” 

“Sure. Fifteen minutes. I’ll meet you in the Crown car park.”  

 

It was then that I discovered another advantage of a clapped out engine. The smoke stream was visible drifting above the trees way down the road before the car appeared. After a minute or so Monkie swung into the car park and hopped out. Kicked the door shut. 

“It’s starting to be difficult,” he grinned. Loosening his belt he tucked in his white T-shirt and smoothed it down. “Where to?” 

I looked at my watch. Coming up to twelve so I said, “The Burger Bar.” 

With a look of hope Monkie nodded towards the pub, “It’s opening time,” he said. 

“Correct,” I replied, “but garage rules, no alcohol before a shift.” 

“That sounds a bit draconian… why?” 

“The combustibility of petrol, that’s why and the need to keep a clear head. The customers can be tetchy and the robbers need careful consideration.” 

“You’ve been robbed?” 

“Sure, we live in a wicked world. Three times as it happens.” 

“Any violence involved?” 

“The threat of. One time a ball peen hammer and another a stream of vicious words fired in rapid succession that missed but still hoped I would submit.” 

“That’s interesting and did you submit?” 

“Nope. I called his bluff with the help of the baseball bat I keep behind the counter.” 

“You hit him?” 

“No need he legged it.” 

“Okay, that’s two and the third?” 

“The threat of a whack on the nose made in haste through a drunken haze just before the fella fell over of his own accord. I think he’d just run out of drinking money. And that’s why the robbers need consideration. I vet them. If a big black car containing two proper villains screeched to a halt on the forecourt that would be a different matter. I’d even help them fill up their sack.” 

“What about the hammer though. That sounds dangerous.” 

“Sure, but the guy was an opportunist and not so fit. He seemed to have trouble lifting the weapon above the horizontal. When I refused to hand over the cash he stamped his foot, hit the counter a couple of times and as he left grabbed all the maps from the rack next to the door.” 

“Yeah, that’s what you said yesterday. The map story.” 

“That’s it. He was so dumb he nicked about thirty maps that were free anyway. You know, buy ten gallons of petrol and get a free map… Before you ask, I didn't call the cops. I don’t want to get mixed up with those guys unless it’s absolutely essential… Anyway, we can’t stand in the pub car park chatting all day.” 

“Definitely not. It’s torture if we’re not going in… Okay then, no problem,  the burger place it is.” 

 

So, across the square, down the alley and over the High Street. Not so many people on a Sunday. The shops were all shut except, of course, the Doris in the newsagent who benefited from a swift grin as we passed. I stopped outside the Burger Bar and peered through the window before we went in. 

“Something wrong?” asked Monkie. 

“I’ll explain inside,” I replied as I pushed the door we wandered in and found a table towards the back. 

After we had ordered Monkie said, “So, a good look around the place before we came in and a seat down the back when there’s a window table free. Something’s up for sure. Are you worried about your dad and his mate?” 

“Not really although that’s a concern. So far, though, nothing from them. I’m starting to think we weren't seen.” 

“Well don't think too much. Maybe they’ve just not caught up with you yet… Okay if not that…” 

“It’s the fella in the white Consul Capri.” 

“You’re being cryptic… what fella’s that?” 

“Sorry, the one outside my place this morning. The same guy who was being over particular yesterday when you were going through your act. He stood outside this place watching as...” 

“Hence the reluctance to come in.” 

“Yeah, he was watching us. When I noticed him he grinned and walked off.” 

“You didn’t say anything.” 

“I didn’t think too much of it…” 

“Until he appeared again today.” 

“Right. The thing is he must want something for sure, otherwise why waste the time.” 

“Did you recognise him?” 

“Nope, he’s a new face and has the look.” 

“Mean?” 

“Not particularly, although I’ve a feeling he could be a handful. No, but I suspect he’s a smart one. An upmarket look but the feel of…” 

“A villain?” 

“Maybe, but he’s sure got the look.”  

“We keep an eye out then?” 

“I think we should. He’s sure to be back… So, how about a lift to the garage when we’re done here?” 

“Sure…It was ten you said you finished, wasn’t it… Is that too late for a beer?” 

“Not necessarily. If we head to Benny’s pub there’ll be a lock-in there for sure… Tell you what, I’ll call him later and check.” 

“In that case I’ll swing into the garage just before ten,” replied Monkie who then got sidetracked as the door opened. 

I glanced that way, absorbed the view and said, “Not for us… Trendies, and we’ve already had a run in with the sort of girls who have an inclination towards pickpocketing.”