Authors: Calvin Wade
Without turning, I looked over my shoulder. Standing there, outside
a big, black limousine, were two of Kiffer
’
s henchmen, Kevin, who
was known as
‘
The Smirking Giant
’
and Bobby who was known as
‘
Muscles
’
. I turned around to face them.
It was
‘
The Smirking Giant
’
that addressed me, in his chirpy Wirral tones. He was only in his
late twenties but had gone to work for Kiffer after a failed attempt at
professional kickboxing. He was allegedly given his nickname because
no matter what nasty job Kiffer gave him, torturing people, killing
people, disposing of bodies, he did it with a smile all over his face. The
‘
Giant
’
bit was self-explanatory, he must have been almost seven foot
tall. My dealings with him had always been pleasant but I had a feeling
in my gut that this was about to change.
“
Good morning, Kevin! I
’
m just off in to get dressed, I
’
m heading
out soon, tell Simon I
’
ll be around later with his money!
”
I turned my head back, ready to walk
slowly towards the door, at a
pace that betrayed my internal panic, but Kevin
’
s next words made me
give up the ghost.
“
No problem, Charlie! I need the money now though. Where do
you suggest we go to get it, your Helen
’
s or your Caroline
’
s?
”
“
Kevin, let
’
s not do this here,
”
I was whispering loudly so Kevin
could hear me but the neighbours couldn
’
t. I kept imagining Dot was
also staring outside
from the front bedroom window.
“
Charlie, get in the car, mate.
”
“
Not now, Kevin, I need to nip into Ormskirk, go to the Building
Society to get Simon his money.
”
“
That
’
s good,
”
Kevin replied,
“
we
’
ll give you a lift.
”
“
It
’
s too early now.
”
“
Charlie, we
’
re not in a rush mate. Kiffer wants his money.
”
Time to come clean.
“
Kev, I don
’
t have it.
”
“
I know that, Charlie. Get in the car!
”
Shit! Without another word, I stuffed the letters meant for Dot into
my back pocket, walked down the path and climbed into the limousine.
Kevin followed me in, on the kerbside of the limo,
‘
Muscles
’
entered
from the roadside. To no great surprise, I was confronted by the smiling
face of Kiffer, looking smarter than usual, cleanly shaven and wearing
a white, Ralph Lauren shirt and black trousers.
“
Morning, Charlie! I hate early mornings, always seem to put me in a bad mood. Early mornings and misplaced trust - a lethal
combination.
”
The engine started and the limousine moved away. I remember
looking back at my house, through the blacked out windows, wondering
whether I would ever return or whether that would be my final image
of our family home. I tried to look calmer than I felt. I had a horrible
feeling I was now on my way on to a
‘
Missing Persons
’
list, destined to
be found ten years later, in a shallow grave, by a man walking his dog
in remote woodland.
“
We think he
’
s a vampire, Mum, he only seems to stay awake when
it
’
s dark outside!
”
Jamie was flat out in his pushchair. Jemma had taken Melissa to
Manchester Opera House to see so
me Australian band that are on
children
’
s TV, catering purely for pr
e-school kids, so Jamie was my
responsibility for the day. We had moved back to the North West
from Hucknall, when Melissa was six months old, as my old Regional
Manager from my days in Maghull had offered me a new Manager
’
s role
in Wigan. The branch itself was no bigger than the ones I
’
d worked in
before, but I was also given the authority to oversee seven agencies in
the Lancashire area. It was more money, a better car and a far superior
bonus package, so there was no decision to be made. We loved Hucknall
but it was time to head home!
We bought a three bedroomed, new build detached house in
Standish near Wigan, only thirty minutes from Manchester and twenty minutes from Ormskirk. Thus, whenever I was responsible for looking
after Jamie or Melissa or both of them, without Jemma, I tended to take
them to my Mum
’
s! On this Sunday morning, Mum and I had taken
Jamie to the park, bought him a
“
99
”
from the ice cream man and then
taken photos of him after he smeared it all over his face! On the
“
push
”
back to Mum
’
s, he had fallen asleep,
so once we were back, Mum had
made us both a coffee and we were able to enjoy a rare chat t
hat did not
have to be interspersed with baby talk every couple of sentences.
“
It
’
s your fault he
’
s a bad sleeper,
”
Mum was saying,
“
you were a
nightmare when you were a child! Often I would come to bed at eleven
o
’
clock when you were three or four and James would be flat out, yet you
would still be up, playing with your Space 1999 toys or playing football
with your soldiers! You only started sleeping properly when you were a
teenager, probably all the masturbation wore you out!
”
“
Mother!
”
“
Well, that
’
s what teenage boys do, is it not?
”
“
I didn
’
t, I was a good, clean boy!
”
“
I remember your sheets telling a different story!
”
“
Mum, how did you manage to get on
to teenage boys sexual habits?
I was talking about sleep deprivation! Jamie
’
s been really hard work. A
lack of sleep is not an aid to a happy marriage.
”
Mum looked concerned
“
You and Jemma are OK though, aren
’
t you?
”
“
Jemma and I? Oh yes, we
’
re fine. We could just do with a bit more
sleep, that
’
s all.
”
“
Well, if you ever need a babysitter to take them both over night,
you only need to ask.
”
“
I
’
m sure we will take you up on that soon. It
’
s just that Jemma hasn
’
t
wanted to burden you with Jamie, because he doesn
’
t sleep for longer
than a couple of hours at a time.
”
“
Do you know what Jemma
’
s problem is? She sometimes thinks too
much about other people
’
s problems a
nd not enough about her own. I
have to admit, when you first told me that you and Jemma were going
to get married, your father and I had our reservations, only because of
all that stuff with her Mum, but we were wrong, Richie, she
’
s a fine
wife and a wonderful mother to your children. You are very lucky to
have her.
”
“
I know, Mum, I know.
”
I said it, but at that time, I was not feeling particularly lucky. People
have a tendency to do that. They make judgements on your marriage
from how it appears from the outside. Jemma was great with the kids,
tolerated my mother and father
’
s foibles very well, so from Mum and
Dad
’
s perspective, she was near perfe
ct. They were oblivious to how
things were behind closed doors. Jemma and I had a limited sex life,
spent a fraction of our lives together and seemed to bicker constantly
when we did share a room. Marriage problems are like cycling on hills,
it
’
s very easy to go downhill, but once you hit the bottom, it
’
s an awful
lot harder to get back up. I did not wan
t to burden Mum with all this,
for the time being at last, I was happy for her to think that everything
in the garden was thornless.
“
What about things with you, love? That testicle of yours OK?
”
Jemma and Mum had a similar way with words, although Mum
’
s
openness was due to a lack of tact and diplomacy, Jemma was just
blunt. Having had five years of follow-ups at the hospital, following my
testicular cancer, I had been given a clean bill of health and very rarely
thought about my prosthetic friend these days.
“
It
’
s fine, Mum. Everything is in working order.
”
“
I check your Dad
’
s balls every few weeks, but they seem to be the
same little hairy things they
’
ve always been. They
’
re not growing or anything.
”
“
Good, although Dad is probably
more prone to prostate cancer
these days, Mum. You should be putting on the rubber gloves and
shoving a finger up his back passage as well!
”
“
Bloody hell, Richie and you say I
’
m tactless!
I
’
ll leave that to the Doctor, my days of shoving a finger up your Dad
’
s back passage are well behind me!
”
“
Too much information, Mum!
”
“
You started it! Anyway, whilst we we
’
re talking about privates, has
Jemma not persuaded you to go to the testicular barbers yet, Richie?
”
“
To trim my pubes?
”
“
Don
’
t be so ridiculous! You know exactly what I mean! For the
snip!
”
My Mum did a cutting sign with two of her fingers.
“
She hasn
’
t persuaded me yet! That production line is still in working
order. As you know, I was forced to close one of the factories a number
of years ago and cut the work force in half, but the other little guys are
still beavering away!
”
The double entendre was intended, my Mum and I shared a warped
sense of humour.
“
Still churning them out, eh?
”
I laughed.