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“He’s harmed my family so he’s a dead man walking.”
Tony shrugged.
“Okay Don Connoroni, I believe ya. And it’s not at all ‘cos he shafted you.”
Connor caught his brother’s eye and fired him a warning shot.
Tony slumped sulkily back in his seat making him feel even worse. It wasn’t easy doing time.
His little brother had aged a fair bit since he’d seen him last. His face now had that familiar grey pallor to it. Prison did that to you. The monotonous routine, the stodgy food and the long hours stuck in your cell.
“I can’t leave it. Okay? Not while you’re banged up in here.”
“Then find her, if it’ll make you happy,” Tony suggested. “With that scar, she should be easy enough to spot. Put a contract out on her too.”
???
“I can’t believe that I’m here. Every morning I wake up and I drink a mug of coffee sitting on the porch step looking out at the lake.”
I’m talking online to Annie who’s sitting in The Cross Keys pub with Jac. It’s evening there, of course. And it looks like they’ve lit the fires in the pub. Cosy. I’m out of whack here. I’ve forgotten that it’s autumn back in Wales.
It’s so good to see them both, I haven’t spoken with them since Greece. And seeing them here in front of me, in the pub, is making me feel more than a little homesick.
Jac’s face appears on the screen.
“What’s it like there?”
“Look I’ll show you.”
I get up and pan the camera of my phone around to show them the lake and then the lodge behind me.
“That’s so gorgeous,” I hear Annie exclaim. “You lucky thing.”
“And you’re there, all on your own?”
I can hear a hint of concern in Jac’s voice.
I roll my eyes at the screen.
“I’m fine. It’s peaceful here. I’m enjoying having some space to think about stuff. It’s like being on the top of a mountain at home. Only here, it’s by a lake.”
“What jobs are you expected to do?”
“There’s not exactly a list. But painting and cleaning, mostly. Oh! And I’ve mended the chicken coop.”
“You got hens?”
Jac perks up. He can talk for hours about farming.
“No. Only a feral rooster so far. Frank, my neighbour, says his name’s Rowdy. I’ve been putting feed out but he’s sneaky, he raids the food and flies away.”
“He needs some ladies. Get him some hens,” Jac chips in.
Annie pulls a face.
“Do you get lonely?”
“I’ve been jogging around the shoreline every afternoon and I’ve got a pickup truck so I can get to town. And tomorrow, I’m going to a barbecue at a neighbour’s place.”
“Good, you’re getting to know the locals.”
“Yeah, they’ve been great. But the invite’s a bit odd. On the text, it says to bring a plate? I’d’ve thought they wanted some wine or beer?”
“Perhaps they don’t drink?” Annie suggests. “And what’s this boss of yours like?”
“He’s away for a few weeks, working in a hostel up north. But he messages me at night to check how I’m doing. He’s a nice guy.”
“And?…”
I can see that Annie’s fishing. I grin back at her.
“What?”
“You like him. I can tell,” she says, shifting position and grabbing her orange juice.
“He’s totally gay.”
I smack that one down straight away. It’s typical of my luck because Shaun Cobain is really nice and I hate to admit that I’ve got a little crush on him brewing.
“And… uh, we’ve got some news for you too.”
Annie shifts the camera onto the both of them and I can see her grabbing hold of Jac’s hand.
“What?”
“We’re not gonna be able to come out and see you for a bit, I’m afraid.”
They’ve got a farm so I wasn’t exactly expecting them to visit any time soon.
“What she means,” Jac chips in, “Is that we’re expecting a baby.”
“Oh, wow!” I squeal. “I so wish I was there to give you a huge hug! Congratulations!”
“Yes,” Annie beams, “It’s been a bit of a shock. And really bad planning, ‘cos he or she’s making an appearance in April, right in the middle of lambing.”
It’s lovely news but the call leaves me feeling flat.
Annie and Jac are moving forward with their lives and from the call I can tell that they’re happy together.
But what about me? What am I doing? And who would want me with this scar?
I shake myself and refuse to waste any more time feeling sorry for myself. I’ve done enough of that.
But still, I decide, if I was to settle down it would be somewhere like here.
???
The Bootle boozer was lively, even on a Tuesday afternoon. And most of the drinkers recognised Irish as he walked past them with his friends towards the bar.
“Whitey, what’ll you be havin’?”
“Err, Guinness, Irish. That’s very kind of you.”
“Two pints of the black stuff and two triple Jamieson chasers please, love.”
“Gerrit down ya!”
Three mates alongside Irish slapped Whitey’s back as he downed his first full pint of Guinness in two gulps.
“And how does that taste?”
“Like freedom.”
He laughed and toasted him with the whisky.
“Sláinte!”
“Sláinte!” they echoed back and emptied their glasses only to have them refilled again.
“So… about this sandwich job ya got?” Irish ribbed.
Whitey smirked.
“Yeah, what about that. Giz us a week and I’ll be coughin’ and pickin’ me arse outta that one, don’t you worry, la’”
Irish slapped his back.
“Good to have yer back on the firm. And how’s our kid doin’?”
“Tony’s alright. Don’t you be worrying about yer brother, he’s onto a good number with that magic paper of his. As long as he keeps getting hold of them bike magazines.”
“Don’t you worry about that. I’ve signed him up for a monthly subscription,” Irish joked, feeling into his pocket as his phone vibrated.
Whitey watched as Irish’s face transformed.
“What d’ya mean, he didn’t deliver?” he growled into the phone.
He looked across at Whitey, his phone on mute.
“Fancy doin’ us a job this week? A thievin’ scally over in Toxteth needs a new pair of boots.”
“
Concrete ones, Irish?”
He sniffed in agreement.
“And a good dunk head-first into the Mersey. That’s after he tells me where my five grand is. I’m not wasting my time on this one. You chop him till he squeals.”
Whitey swallowed his second pint down as Irish ended the call.
There was a notification on the fake Facebook site he’d created.
He clicked onto it.
It said that his Facebook friend, Claire Williams, had been tagged into a picture.
“What the fu…”
The picture was of a woman’s slightly rounded stomach with the message underneath,
‘Great to see Claire Williams on FB today. Now even New Zealand has heard our news. Can’t wait until March!’
“Lads, I’ve gotta go.”
“Argh! Eh? Come on, Irish. Whatever it is’ll wait.”
“Sorry boys.”
He nodded to the girl and stuck a hundred quid behind the bar for them. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys, pressing them into Whitey’s hands.
“What’s this?”
“Yer new van. For collections and deliveries.”
“Thanks, Irish.”
“It’s white. And don’t you be changing the feckin’ colour again.”
Whitey laughed appreciatively.
“I’ll give yer a call when I’ve done the job.”
He clenched Whitey’s shoulder.
“Get me back my five grand, alright?”
“No problem, Irish.”
Feeling the chill of the autumn air as he came out of the dark boozer into the afternoon light, Irish reread the Facebook notification.
It could be nothing. Claire Williams was backpacking around the world, but at least now he had a lead.
The contract would be easy enough to put out to New Zealand. He didn’t know much about the outfits there, but he was sure there’d be some badass boys who’d like to earn a few quid.
And as for Claire Williams, she was collateral damage. As his dear old dad had taught him, to catch a big fish you need to use live bait.
???
Every night for the week she’d been living at the lake, once the boys were settled in their rooms for the night Shaun had been messaging Claire.
Claire: Hi Shaun, are you free to chat?
He couldn’t help but smirk when he saw the message come in. It was the best part of his day, speaking with her.
