I stood up and nodded a see-you-later to them both as I went to the kitchen for some of the cheese and cold cuts in the fridge. Tom left for his room.
As well as not telling Tom too much to save confusing him, I also didn't want to scare him by suggesting anything about dramas, let alone the problems we were likely to have with the snow. Once people get negative thoughts into their heads their imaginations go into hyper drive and they start to panic. Every noise or shadow becomes a major event, which slows down the job and also increases the chance of a compromise. Tom already knew what to do if we got split up, without realizing it: get himself to Helsinki train station. He had enough money in that bag to charter a private jet home.
I started to pull the fridge to bits, throwing all sorts onto a plate.
I'd have loved to have left right away and be on target before it had a chance to snow, but what was the point, we couldn't get in until people were asleep. I knew better than to worry any more about the job; it only gets you all keyed up, too keen to get on with it, then you hit the target before the time is right and fuck up.
I headed for my bedroom with the food, picking at it as I went. Liv had gone. Once on my bed, I started visualizing again exactly what I was going to do, with some more what-ifs, except that now in my film it had started to snow.
There was a knock on the door. I looked at Baby G. I must have been asleep for three hours.
The door opened and Tom appeared, his long hair dangling over his shoulders. 'Got a minute, mate?'
'Sure, come in.' As if I was going anywhere.
He came and sat on the bed, looking down and chewing his bottom lip.
'I'm worried about this hook thing. Look, to tell you the truth, I ain't never done anything like that before, know what I mean? What happens if I can't do it? You know? if I get it all wrong?'
I sat up. His shoulders were hunched and his hair covered his face.
'Tom, no drama. Don't worry about it; it's all in the legs.' I stood up. 'This is how easy it is.' Putting my hands above my head, I bent my knees and slowly lowered myself all my ass was level with the floor, then lifted up again. 'Not exactly difficult, is it? Can you do that?'
He nodded. 'S'pose so.'
'Come on, let's see you, then.'
As he lowered himself toward the floor, knees cracking and creaking, he looked and sounded very uncertain, but he managed to do it.
I gave an encouraging smile. 'That's all you need to do. If your legs can do that later on, we're home free. But remember, small movements.
No more than a foot at a time, okay?'
'Small movements. Gotcha.' He didn't look convinced.
'Just do what I do. Like I said, no drama.'
'You sure?'
'Positive.'
He bit his lip again. 'I don't want to mess things up? you know, get caught or whatever. You know, what we talked about last night.'
'You won't. Fucking hell, kids do this for fun. I used to do it when I was a kid, trying to skip school.' The school I was talking about was reform school, and I only wished I'd known this little trick at the time. I would have been out of that shithole lickety-split. 'Tom, relax. Have a bath, do anything you want. Try your clothes on. Just don't worry about it. The only time to worry is when I look worried, okay?'
He hesitated in the doorway. I waited for him to speak, but he changed his mind and turned to go.
'And hey, Tom?'
His body stayed facing out and he just turned his head. 'Yep?'
'Don't have anything to eat when you get up, mate. I'll explain later.'
He nodded, and left with a nervous laugh as he closed the door behind him.
I stretched out on the bed and went back to visualizing each phase of the job. I wasn't happy about the prospect of snow and I wasn't happy about not having a weapon. The vegetable knife I'd used to cut the cheese with wasn't much of a substitute.
20
I got up groggily just after eight and took a shower. I hadn't slept since Tom's visit, but because I'd been trying so hard I now wanted to.
Dragging myself to the kitchen for a coffee, I found Liv and Tom in bathrobes sitting on the sofa with mugs in hand. They both looked as tired as I felt, and we exchanged only mumbled greetings. I still had one more thing to do with the kit before I double-checked the lot, so I took my coffee with me to my room and got dressed properly.
At just before nine o'clock I took everything down to the car. Tom was on parade, showered, and dressed. Liv didn't follow us down; she would be emptying the house tonight and was probably already busy getting it sterile. She'd take our bags with her, handing them back with the money in them.
Tom and I faced each other as I checked him out, first his pockets to make sure the only stuff in them was the equipment he needed: daps, spare hook, nylon loop, and money. He didn't need 100 marks in change rattling around in his pockets, just the paper money in a plastic bag tucked into his boot to get food and transportation if he was in the shit. Most important was the Think Pad and cables, jammed into the nylon carry bag hanging over his shoulder but under his coat. I didn't want the battery getting too cold and slow on target. I then had to make sure that none of it fell out, especially his spare hook.
I got him to jump up and down. There were no noises and everything stayed in place in his large, padded blue-check coat. Finally I made sure he had his gloves and hat. 'All right, mate?'
'No drama.' He sounded convincing.
I put the backpack on over my coat. We looked like Tweedledum and Tweedledee. 'Okay, you check me now.'
'Why?'
'Because I might have fucked up. Go on.'
He checked me over from the front first, then I turned so he could check the backpack was securely fastened. Everything was fine until I jumped up and down. There was a noise coming from the pocket my spare hook was in. Tom looked almost embarrassed as he reached in and brought out the two nails that had been raiding around.
'These things happen,' I said. 'That's why everyone needs to be checked. Thanks, mate.'
He was very pleased with himself. It's amazing what a couple of well-placed nails can do to boost someone's confidence and make them feel they're contributing to things.
Tom and I got into the car and wheels turned just after nine o'clock.
Liv hadn't made an appearance to say goodbye.
He was pretty quiet for the first twenty minutes or so. As I drove, I talked him through each phase again, from stopping the car when we got there, to entering the house and finding what we were looking for, to me turning the ignition back on once I had the Think Pad securely in my possession. I concentrated on being relentlessly positive, not even beginning to suggest that things could go wrong.
We got to the drop-off point after three and a half hours, with me stressing every time I'd had to turn the wipers on to clear the windshield of shit thrown up by cars in front, thinking that the snowfall had started.
Once in the firebreak near the target I killed the lights, but I left th e engine running as I looked over at my passenger. 'You all right, Tom?'
When we'd done the drive-past a couple of minutes earlier I'd pointed out the driveway we were going to go down. He took a deep breath.
'Ready to roll, mate. Ready to rock 'n' roll.' I could sense his apprehension.
'Right then, let's do it.' I got out of the car, closing the door gently onto the first click, just enough for the interior light to go out. Then I unzipped my fly.
Tom was on the other side of the car doing the same, exactly as I'd told him. I could only manage a little dribble as I checked the skies for even the slightest sign of snow. I couldn't see a thing in the darkness, of course, but somehow it made me feel better.
I got the backpack and my coat out of the car and rested them against one of the wheels. It was bitterly cold
