I turned and saw two smiling, hard-lived-in faces that I’d hoped never to see again. Fuck knows what they were called. They were Trainers and Sundance to me, the Yes Man’s regulators, the ones who would have killed Kelly if I hadn’t done the job for him in Panama.
My cell rang and I saw Trainers pull up the handbrake, keeping them a few metres back.
‘It’s me. You paged.’
I stood and stared at the Volvo as Sundance got on to his cell as well, probably to the Yes Man.
‘I’ve just got the call. Why me? You know why I’m here.’
‘Yes. But I’m not a social worker, son.’ He didn’t sound as if I’d just woken him up.
‘I can’t do it.’
‘I’ll call Osama, have him put things on hold, shall I? No, son, duty calls.’
‘There must be somebody else.’
‘I want my man on it, and today that’s you because you’re there.’
‘But I’ve got a duty here, I need to be with her . . .’ I was suddenly aware how pathetic I must be sounding.
‘What do you imagine I do all day? I’m paid to think, that’s what I do. I’ve thought – and no, there isn’t anyone. It’s an unsparing world, son. You’re paid to do, so do.’
‘I understand that but—’
‘You don’t understand, and there are no buts. Get to work or she mightn’t ever get to appreciate that fancy therapy.’
I got a sudden dull pain in the centre of my chest as Sundance carried on gobbing into his cell. I’d had George down as a better man than that. ‘Fuck you! That stunt’s been pulled before with these two fuckers he’s sent for me. Why bring a child into this shit again? Fucking arseholes.’
George remained calm as Sundance closed down his cell and smiled at Trainers. ‘You misunderstand, son. We’re not the threat here.’ There was a few seconds’ pause. I kept my mouth shut. ‘Don’t call me any more. Report to London until I say otherwise, you hear me?’
I closed down and walked over to the Volvo. The headful of dirty blond hair that had reminded me of a young Robert Redford the first time I saw it had gone. Sundance poked his head out of the passenger window, looking like he was just growing out of a Number One.
‘I said, all right, boy?’ He had the kind of thick Glasgow accent that you could only get from forty-odd years of chewing gravel. ‘In a bit of a huff there, ain’t ya? That girl of yours must be getting a bit older now. You know, getting a bit of a handful.’ He held his hands up as if weighing a pair of breasts, and gave me the kind of leer that made me want to smash his face in.
Trainers liked that and joined in the laughter as he pulled out a packet of Drum and some Rizlas. He was about the same age and had the dark brown version of Sundance’s haircut. They’d obviously kept up hitting the weights since their days in the H Blocks as prisoners of the UK’s anti-terrorism laws, but still looked bulked-up rather than well honed. With their broken noses and big barrel chests they wouldn’t have looked out of place in ill- fitting dinner jackets and Doc Martens outside a nightclub.
I could see Trainers’s forearms rippling below his short-sleeved shirt as he started to roll up. Last time I saw him his Red Hand of Ulster tattoo had just been lasered off, and all traces had now disappeared.
I knew this wasn’t the time to do anything but breathe deeply. Trainers handed the first roll-up to Sundance, and his one hundred per cent Belfast boomed through the passenger window: ‘The boss said to make sure you come to the meeting. Don’t want you wimping out on us now, do we, big man?’
I leant down to get a better view of him as he got to grips with the second roll-up, and had a chance to admire his trademark shop-soiled Nikes. Sundance flicked unsuccessfully at a disposable with hands the size of shovels. ‘What if I decide not to?’
‘Ah, now, that would be nice.’ Neither could help but smile as Sundance shook the lighter to try to get it working. ‘We could all go back to the garage, couldn’t we? Things could get interesting again.’
The garage was in south London. That was where they’d beaten the shit out of me while we waited for the Yes Man to come and explain the facts of life: that I would be going to Panama or else.
I straightened up and turned to walk away. ‘I’ll be there.’
‘Ah, now, that’s a shame.’
As I went back to the house, I saw that Sundance wasn’t leaving anything to chance. He pulled the Volvo into the kerb and parked, and they set about filling the car with smoke.
14
Carmen was in the living room, watching transfixed as Lorraine Kelly guided her GMTV audience through the minefield of organic moisturizers.
‘I’ve just had a call from work.’
She couldn’t be arsed to look up.
‘I’ve got to go to a meeting at one o’clock – I’ll have to leave in a minute to make sure I get there on time. There’s some sort of emergency going on.’
What else could I do? Lock the front door and just hope Sundance and Trainers got bored and went away? No, I’d see if the Yes Man could find someone else. Shit, I was even prepared to beg if I had to.
Carmen was tracing the cracks in her face with her fingertips, her eyes still glued to Lorraine. If she knew what was coming, she wasn’t going to make it easy for me. I spoke up a little. ‘You know how these things sometimes drag on, and I might not get back tonight. Just in case that happens, I’ll need somebody to take Kelly to Chelsea in the morning.’
For a moment I wondered if she’d heard anything I’d said. ‘Oh dear, I don’t know,’ she said finally. ‘I’d have to ask Jimmy. I don’t think he’d be happy about the traffic. What with the congestion charge and everything . . . And then there’s the parking. How long would we have to wait?’
‘Just under an hour. Look, I’ll pay the petrol and the—’
‘We
‘But you just said . . . What’s the problem, Carmen?’
‘Well, I mean, what will we tell the neighbours? No one knows she’s seeing a psychiatrist.’
‘You’re not going to have to put a fucking sign up. And for the millionth time, it’s no big deal. Kelly isn’t mentally ill, she just needs help with some stuff, that’s all.’
‘Well, and can you blame her, poor thing, the life she’s had? Pushed around from pillar to post, having to listen to your foul language all the time . . .’
I couldn’t take any more. This woman was so negative I could actually feel her draining the energy out of me. She’d spent her entire life either sniping at other people or feeling sorry for herself, and she wasn’t about to change. The only thing that would do that was a two-pound ball hammer to the back of her head.
‘Thanks for the support, Carmen.’ I turned and got out, tempted to add something sarcastic like, ‘I don’t know why I’ve paid a shrink all these thousands of pounds when I’ve got you on hand’ – but I didn’t think of it until I was in the corridor.
I was looking forward to the next bit even less. I was just about to confirm everything I knew Kelly felt about me.
I needn’t have worried. It had already been done. As I went down the flowered carpet to her room, Kelly was standing outside her door. I couldn’t read the exact expression on her face – anger, disbelief, disappointment, abandonment, maybe a mixture of them all. But I knew it meant I was in the shit. ‘I don’t believe you, Nick.’ She was so close to tears she almost choked on the words.
‘I don’t have a choice, Kelly. It’s just a meeting. All being well, I’ll—’
‘There’s always a choice, Nick. That’s what you keep saying, isn’t it? Why don’t you just say no to them, eh?’
‘It’s not that easy.’ I went to stroke her head but she jumped back as if I’d touched her with a Taser.
‘Don’t.’ She moved backwards into her room. ‘Fucking hypocrite!’
I heard a gasp of shock from Carmen. Either Lorraine had suggested going non-organic on the moisturizer
