If you don’t have it I’ll go and no hard feelings.’
‘Don’t have it,’ said Algy. ‘Jesus Christ, I’m sure we have it.’
‘Then pay it,’ I said. ‘The debt’s well overdue and the geezer you owe is hurting.’
‘Fuck him,’ said Algy.
‘Typical,’ I said under my breath.
‘What?’ he demanded.
‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘Can I leave a letter for McBain?’
‘You try, and you’ll eat it.’
His attitude was beginning to grate on me. ‘Listen you big bastard,’ I said, ‘you might impress the missis with all this crap, but I’m getting bored with it.’
‘That’s just too bad,’ he said. ‘Now do as you’re told and get the hell out. I’ll see you to the gate.’
For the third time Mrs McBain did the business for me. I was beginning to think I should offer her a job as my trusty assistant. Trouble was I might end up as hers.
‘Tea’s ready,’ she called from the doorway. ‘Come on Nicholas and drink it while it’s hot. Do you want a cup Algy?’
He looked to the heavens. ‘You jammy bastard,’ he said to me. ‘Go and get your tea, and then on your way.’ Then he shouted over his shoulder. ‘Yes please Missis Mac, a cup of tea would be lovely.’
Lovely, I thought; the woman has everyone eating out of her hand.
Algy and I walked together towards the house. Little and Large, and I ain’t that little. We climbed the steps to the front door and followed Mrs McBain through an ornate hall that was polished until it shone, down some stairs and through a door into a cosy little living-room.
‘This is my flat,’ said Mrs McBain proudly. ‘The kitchen is through there, bedroom to the right with a built-in bathroom. Mark has looked after me.’
‘It’s very elegant,’ I said.
Elegant, Christ she was getting to me too.
‘Do sit down,’ she invited. Algy and I perched on tiny, upright chairs with sharp little wooden arms. I felt like I was being squeezed into an electric toaster. I expected to pop up, all brown and crispy round the edges at any moment.
Mrs McBain poured dark tea into tiny china cups, then added milk, and at Algy’s and my request, sugar. I leant forward and picked up the cup and saucer and took a sip. The tea was hot, strong and delicious. I sat back and tried to relax on the hard chair. A telephone on a nest of tables rang once. Mrs McBain picked up the handset and said, ‘Hello.’ She listened for a moment. ‘It’s for you Algy,’ she said.
Algy got up, dwarfing the room and took the receiver from her. ‘Yes,’ he said, and listened for thirty seconds or so without speaking. Then ‘OK Boss,’ and he put down the phone. ‘He wants to see you,’ he said to me.
‘How does he know I’m here?’ I asked.
‘He knows everything that goes on in this house. He’s not stupid,’ said Algy.
I drank the rest of my tea, refused a second cup and took my leave of Mrs McBain. She was a sweet woman and I told her so. Algy was hopping from foot to foot with impatience.
‘Come on,’ he said, when I’d finished. ‘We’d better not keep him waiting.’
‘Don’t upset Mark,’ Mrs McBain said as we left. ‘He’s a very sensitive boy.’
I assured her that I wouldn’t.
‘No,’ said Algy as he closed the door behind us. ‘Don’t upset him. Because if you do, you upset me, and I’m not so bloody sensitive.’
I said nothing.
Algy took me back through the hall, then we headed through a maze of passages that finally led us to the back of the house. We went through a heavy oak door that complained bitterly as Algy shoved it open, into a paved courtyard and ducked through the thin rain into a whitewashed outbuilding that I imagined had once been stables.
The outer door to the building was wooden and opened at a touch. Inside there was a small, empty lobby lit only by a dim red bulb set high in the ceiling. Facing us was a grey metal door. Set into the wall beside the door was a fancy computerized, digitalized lock. Algy tapped in some
‘Don’t have it,’ said Algy. ‘Jesus Christ, I’m sure we have it.’
‘Then pay it,’ I said. ‘The debt’s well overdue and the geezer you owe is hurting.’
‘Fuck him,’ said Algy.
‘Typical,’ I said under my breath.
‘What?’ he demanded.
‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘Can I leave a letter for McBain?’
‘You try, and you’ll eat it.’
His attitude was beginning to grate on me. ‘Listen you big bastard,’ I said, ‘you might impress the missis with all this crap, but I’m getting bored with it.’
‘That’s just too bad,’ he said. ‘Now do as you’re told and get the hell out. I’ll see you to the gate.’
For the third time Mrs McBain did the business for me. I was beginning to think I should offer her a job as my trusty assistant. Trouble was I might end up as hers.
‘Tea’s ready,’ she called from the doorway. ‘Come on Nicholas and drink it while it’s hot. Do you want a cup Algy?’
He looked to the heavens. ‘You jammy bastard,’ he said to me. ‘Go and get your tea, and then on your way.’ Then he shouted over his shoulder. ‘Yes please Missis Mac, a cup of tea would be lovely.’
Lovely, I thought; the woman has everyone eating out of her hand.
Algy and I walked together towards the house. Little and Large, and I ain’t that little. We climbed the steps to the front door and followed Mrs McBain through an ornate hall that was polished until it shone, down some stairs and through a door into a cosy little living-room.
‘This is my flat,’ said Mrs McBain proudly. ‘The kitchen is through there, bedroom to the right with a built-in bathroom. Mark has looked after me.’
‘It’s very elegant,’ I said.
Elegant, Christ she was getting to me too.
‘Do sit down,’ she invited. Algy and I perched on tiny, upright chairs with sharp little wooden arms. I felt like I was being squeezed into an electric toaster. I expected to pop up, all brown and crispy round the edges at any moment.
Mrs McBain poured dark tea into tiny china cups, then added milk, and at Algy’s and my request, sugar. I leant forward and picked up the cup and saucer and took a sip. The tea was hot, strong and delicious. I sat back and tried to relax on the hard chair. A telephone on a nest of tables rang once. Mrs McBain picked up the handset and said, ‘Hello.’ She listened for a moment. ‘It’s for you Algy,’ she said.
Algy got up, dwarfing the room and took the receiver from her. ‘Yes,’ he said, and listened for thirty seconds or so without speaking. Then ‘OK Boss,’ and he put down the phone. ‘He wants to see you,’ he said to me.
‘How does he know I’m here?’ I asked.
‘He knows everything that goes on in this house. He’s not stupid,’ said Algy.
I drank the rest of my tea, refused a second cup and took my leave of Mrs McBain. She was a sweet woman and I told her so. Algy was hopping from foot to foot with impatience.
‘Come on,’ he said, when I’d finished. ‘We’d better not keep him waiting.’
‘Don’t upset Mark,’ Mrs McBain said as we left. ‘He’s a very sensitive boy.’
I assured her that I wouldn’t.
‘No,’ said Algy as he closed the door behind us. ‘Don’t upset him. Because if you do, you upset me, and I’m not so bloody sensitive.’
I said nothing.
Algy took me back through the hall, then we headed through a maze of passages that finally led us to the back of the house. We went through a heavy oak door that complained bitterly as Algy shoved it open, into a paved courtyard and ducked through the thin rain into a whitewashed outbuilding that I imagined had once been stables.
The outer door to the building was wooden and opened at a touch. Inside there was a small, empty lobby lit only by a dim red bulb set high in the ceiling. Facing us was a grey metal door. Set into the wall beside the door was a fancy computerized, digitalized lock. Algy tapped in some
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