Racing Green Jags

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 ...

9       Monkie dropped me at the petrol station at ten minutes before two, plenty of time to do the changeover with the early shift man, Frank. Old man Frank. Sixty something and always with a bit of advice. The Rockers were in this morning so watch out, the boss was on the prowl earlier so keep your jerry can well hidden. Stuff like that. The same most weeks. Always being helpful and, I would say, he was. Nice guy, Frank, wore a long white coat. You know, one like doctors used. He said it made him look official but, judging by the two neat, palm width, oily lines heading down from his waist, it was mostly used as a rag. He read the counters, filled in the log and I signed to agree the numbers which had to be accurate. Get the gallons sold wrong and, as with Charlie the milk, the old pay packet took a knock. 

10                Mondays were usually a day of leisure for me. Up at the normal time, breakfast with Marge then a catch up with my social life. The one thing I always tried to do was visit my mother. She had brought her worried look to see Marge to check out where I lived the Monday morning after I moved in. I didn’t speak much. Marge made her a cuppa and did most of the talking so I wandered up to my room until mum shouted to say she was leaving. What they talked about I’ve no idea but when my mother left she smiled so from that I assume at least some of the words were good. Since then she’s only been once more. A bit of a disappointment for sure but then maybe trouble with my father kept her away. At least that’s what I told myself. One thing I felt quite strongly about, though, was if I didn’t go and see her perhaps there would be long spells of no contact.   

11       Moving closer to the window I leant on the sill and frowned right back at Take Six. This fella was now starting to really bug me big time. It was obvious he would keep showing up. One thing was certain, this business needed to get sorted. My mood was right so now was a good time. Did I need help? Not in my present frame of mind. Besides, if the guy wanted to do me harm he wouldn’t be waiting outside my house. That would’ve happened by now in some dark corner. He wanted something. I was convinced of that.   Grabbing my door key and with my teeth clenched, eyes focused on the car, I strode across the road. As I approached the passenger door swung wide and Take Six leant over, “Get in,” he grinned.  

12       My doctor’s surgery was around the back in the annex of one of those old huge Edwardian mansions. Big windows, tall ceilings and freezing in the winter. The place about a twenty minute walk from Marge’s if a fast pace was maintained. It was ten-forty something when I strolled into the waiting room. Morning surgery had nearly finished so it was nowhere near full. Just a couple of kids with their mother. Dressed like twins but one was taller and obviously older. Anyway, they were on their way out and grizzled their way through the door. Near the front an older guy coughed as he sat with his elbows on his knees and the look of a heavy smoker. I’d seen him there several times before.   The reception desk was empty so I sat close to it opposite the old guy. Kept glancing at the door to the consulting room. Absentmindedly picked up a mag. A woman’s one. Then I noticed a copy of Melody Maker. A few weeks old but what the hell, it was better than staring at the wa...