tagalong and I assumed also the owner of one of the Jap bikes. The other one must belong to the other lad I decided. After all, no self respecting full patch Brethren would turn up for a formal run of this importance on anything other than their hog.
It was the slickback’s first time I guessed and I wondered if he realised how much he was giving off waves of pure nervousness, as though he was trying to look tough, pleased and serious all at once. It wasn’t working. And it was the sort of thing I thought that someone like Scroat would pick up on like a shark smelling blood in the water.
He smiled at me, I think in recognition of someone who was less of a threat and introduced himself as Danny.
They would call him ‘Danny the Boy’ I thought, I could see it now. ‘Hi,’ I said and nodded at him, ‘Iain.’
He had obviously heard what man-mountain had said and he was a bright kid. He immediately put two and two together.
‘Hey,’ he asked, ‘are you the guy who wrote that book? You are, aren’t you?’
‘ Heavy Duty People ?’ I asked.
‘Yes, the one about Damage.’
‘That’s right,’ I admitted quietly, looking around to check out any reactions. It really wasn’t a subject that I was very comfortable with him talking about right now thank you very much. I guessed that Scroat for example might not be much of a fan.
‘Hey it was a great book.’
‘Thanks,’ I said, wanting to shut the conversation down, ‘Glad you liked it.’
‘I’ve read it loads of times. It’s one of the reasons I wanted to ride with the guys.’
Oh God, I thought.
‘So how come these guys are at the back with us lot?’ I asked him as a way of changing the subject, but also out of curiosity. ‘Shouldn’t they be up front with the others?’
‘Don’t know,’ he said, ‘this is my first time out with the guys and Bung’s my sponsor so I guess he’s going to keep an eye on me.’ He gestured in the direction of man-mountain, so now at least I had a name.
‘And Scroat?’ I said nodding in Mr Surley’s direction.
The kid just shrugged. ‘Guess he’s Charlie’s sponsor,’ he said nodding at the other kid who was now standing off to one side, quietly watching what was going on and ignoring us completely. Given that he looked as though he couldn’t be more than twenty or so I was shocked to see that he already had a bottom rocker marking him out as a striker, someone working his passage and on track to be voted on for a full patch after a year or so. It seemed extraordinarily early. The Brethren was a very adult organisation, in all senses of the word. Most of its active members were in their thirties, forties, even fifties, with a few grizzled veterans even older than that and still riding and rolling with the crew. While one of the byelaws said that no one under twenty-one could become a full member it was almost an irrelevance since in practice no one ever got put up for membership until they were in their late twenties or early thirties anyway. The Brethren wanted solid guys, people who had done their time, in various ways, who had proved themselves. So what was this kid doing on his way at this age I wondered, filing it away in the interesting-things-to-follow-up-at-some-time category.
Danny the Boy didn’t look as though he was about to introduce me and given Charlie’s attitude I decided that I didn’t think that was looking like any great loss.
Just then there was a sudden wave of anticipation and movement that swept its way down the crowded pavement as fags were dropped and riders started towards their machines. An instruction had plainly been given from up at the top of the line and we were about to move off.
As I turned back to my bike it suddenly struck me that there was something odd about the crowd mounting their bikes this morning. The Toy Run was a charity gig and a major club party event. But all of the guys here were single packing. Why was no one planning to take their old ladies
It was the slickback’s first time I guessed and I wondered if he realised how much he was giving off waves of pure nervousness, as though he was trying to look tough, pleased and serious all at once. It wasn’t working. And it was the sort of thing I thought that someone like Scroat would pick up on like a shark smelling blood in the water.
He smiled at me, I think in recognition of someone who was less of a threat and introduced himself as Danny.
They would call him ‘Danny the Boy’ I thought, I could see it now. ‘Hi,’ I said and nodded at him, ‘Iain.’
He had obviously heard what man-mountain had said and he was a bright kid. He immediately put two and two together.
‘Hey,’ he asked, ‘are you the guy who wrote that book? You are, aren’t you?’
‘ Heavy Duty People ?’ I asked.
‘Yes, the one about Damage.’
‘That’s right,’ I admitted quietly, looking around to check out any reactions. It really wasn’t a subject that I was very comfortable with him talking about right now thank you very much. I guessed that Scroat for example might not be much of a fan.
‘Hey it was a great book.’
‘Thanks,’ I said, wanting to shut the conversation down, ‘Glad you liked it.’
‘I’ve read it loads of times. It’s one of the reasons I wanted to ride with the guys.’
Oh God, I thought.
‘So how come these guys are at the back with us lot?’ I asked him as a way of changing the subject, but also out of curiosity. ‘Shouldn’t they be up front with the others?’
‘Don’t know,’ he said, ‘this is my first time out with the guys and Bung’s my sponsor so I guess he’s going to keep an eye on me.’ He gestured in the direction of man-mountain, so now at least I had a name.
‘And Scroat?’ I said nodding in Mr Surley’s direction.
The kid just shrugged. ‘Guess he’s Charlie’s sponsor,’ he said nodding at the other kid who was now standing off to one side, quietly watching what was going on and ignoring us completely. Given that he looked as though he couldn’t be more than twenty or so I was shocked to see that he already had a bottom rocker marking him out as a striker, someone working his passage and on track to be voted on for a full patch after a year or so. It seemed extraordinarily early. The Brethren was a very adult organisation, in all senses of the word. Most of its active members were in their thirties, forties, even fifties, with a few grizzled veterans even older than that and still riding and rolling with the crew. While one of the byelaws said that no one under twenty-one could become a full member it was almost an irrelevance since in practice no one ever got put up for membership until they were in their late twenties or early thirties anyway. The Brethren wanted solid guys, people who had done their time, in various ways, who had proved themselves. So what was this kid doing on his way at this age I wondered, filing it away in the interesting-things-to-follow-up-at-some-time category.
Danny the Boy didn’t look as though he was about to introduce me and given Charlie’s attitude I decided that I didn’t think that was looking like any great loss.
Just then there was a sudden wave of anticipation and movement that swept its way down the crowded pavement as fags were dropped and riders started towards their machines. An instruction had plainly been given from up at the top of the line and we were about to move off.
As I turned back to my bike it suddenly struck me that there was something odd about the crowd mounting their bikes this morning. The Toy Run was a charity gig and a major club party event. But all of the guys here were single packing. Why was no one planning to take their old ladies
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