Brigands M. C. (21 page)

‘I’ll need a bigger bike if I’m going on a run in the summer,’ Nigel said. ‘But the insurance is gonna be the killer.’

Rhino switched out of being a salesman and sounded more genuine when he heard this. ‘Who you going on a run with?’

‘Monster Bunch, hopefully,’ Nigel said. ‘My brother said he’ll try and sort something out when he gets back from uni in a couple of weeks.’

‘Has Will still got that raggedy 883 Sportster?’

Nigel nodded. ‘Spent a lot of money fixing it up. It looks the business, but he’s had chronic breakdowns.’

‘We have a philosophy here when it comes to selling motorcycles,’ Rhino said, dropping back into salesman mode. ‘You’re teenagers. You don’t have much money now, but enthusiasm for motorcycles is a lifelong thing. I’m more interested in sending you out of here on a good reliable bike. Then I can bleed you dry when you’re older and you come in here to drop ten grand on a Harley.’

James and Nigel both laughed.

‘Do you know Teeth?’ Rhino asked.

James knew the name, but he shook his head.

‘I know
of
him,’ Nigel said.

‘Well Teeth is the Führer’s right-hand man these days,’ Rhino explained. ‘He runs Marina Heights promenade. Cleaning crews, maintenance, the diner and the fast-food kiosks. He can’t offer glamorous work, but it’s a minimum six quid an hour. You can work Saturdays, and once the school holidays start you can do forty hours or more a week. If you’re prepared to graft you can easily pay for a bike like this over a single summer.’

Nigel snorted. ‘Do you know how hard it is to get Marina Heights jobs? Every kid in town wants them, along with about a million older dudes who come to the beaches to surf.’

Rhino nodded. ‘But in case you haven’t noticed, Marina Heights is run by the Brigands. We’re motorbike people, you’re motorbike people. If you’re buying a bike out of here, I’ll go to Teeth and your names will go to the top of the list for Saturday work and summer jobs. All you’ve got to do is pick out a bike, get one of your parents down here and we’ll sort the whole deal. You could be riding home on one of these bikes
tonight
.’

James was a bright kid, but he’d never faced a hardcore salesman like Rhino before and the prospect of driving an unrestricted 500cc Kawasaki around all summer pressed all his buttons.

‘I could
so
go for that ER5,’ James smiled, walking back out into the sun with Nigel. ‘Do you think you’ll get one?’

Nigel shook his head. ‘No bike is worth a summer of cleaning toilets, serving burgers and scraping gum off of furniture. Besides, I’ve got a little gig selling spliff to Julian and that whole crowd of kids. I only make thirty or forty quid a week but it pays for my own weed and my bike insurance and I don’t have to lift a finger.’

‘Nice,’ James nodded. ‘So why don’t you buy the bike with your drug money?’

Nigel laughed. ‘Oh yeah, I come home on a 500cc bike and my ma’s not gonna ask where I got the money from, is she?’

‘Good point,’ James admitted.

‘And if you want to buy some shit to smoke anytime, just ask.’

James shook his head. ‘I tried marijuana a couple of times but I couldn’t get into it for some reason.’

‘Probably some cheap crap is why,’ Nigel said. ‘The stuff I sell is
great
. It’s all grown down here in Devon. Hundred per cent organic, THC levels are through the roof.’

‘I’ll bear it in mind,’ James said warily, as he reached his bike. ‘What you gonna do now?’

‘I stink,’ Nigel said. ‘I’ll go home and take a shower and I’ve got an essay to write. I think everyone’s meeting up on the beach this evening. If you give me your cell number I’ll text you the where and when.’

Chloe spent the afternoon supermarket shopping, and when the kids got home she told them that dinner was whichever ready meal they picked from the selection crammed inside their American-style fridge-freezer.

James got first dibs on the microwave and did a lasagne. He headed into the living-room after claiming that the curry Lauren and Dante were heating up was stinking the place out. But the smell followed him into the living-room when they brought their food through a few minutes later.

‘You not eating?’ Lauren asked Chloe, who sat on an armchair with her feet under her bum.

‘I had lunch at the tapas bar,’ Chloe explained.

‘Good?’ Lauren asked.

‘Very,’ Chloe nodded. ‘This old boy sitting next to me started chatting me up. He had pots of money judging by the gold Rolex and the offer of a day out on his yacht.’

‘Oooh, Chloe’s got a boyfriend,’ Dante laughed as he dipped naan bread into his chicken korma.

‘So have you,’ Lauren grinned. ‘Or it won’t be long judging by the way you were canoodling with Anna on the bus ride home.’

James perked up at the mention of a girl. ‘Good tits?’ he asked.

Dante laughed. ‘Not huge, but nice.’

‘What are we talking?’ James asked. ‘Kiwi fruit, apples, oranges, mangos, melons?’

Lauren tutted. ‘James, not all boys are animals like you.’

But Dante surprised her. ‘Big firm oranges, heading towards grapefruits,’ he grinned. ‘Although
nothing
compared to this girl I went out with when I was in Ireland.’

Lauren’s heart sank as she watched Dante cupping his hands in front of his chest. ‘Jesus, you’re worse than my brother,’ she complained, as she wapped him with a rolled-up TV guide.

‘It’s just tits,’ James smirked.

‘Tits, tits, wonderful tits,’ Dante sang.

Chloe sounded cross. ‘I’m
not
sitting here listening to you two talking about breasts,’ she said firmly. ‘Show some respect. How would you like it if we sat here talking about penises?’

James looked down at his plastic dish, chasing the last piece of lasagne with his spoon. ‘How’s the mission budget coming?’ he asked. ‘Only I might need a couple of grand for another bike, plus the insurance.’

Lauren scoffed. ‘Why would you
need
another bike?’

‘I might get invited on a run with the Monster Bunch,’ he explained. ‘If I do, Nigel says I’ll need a bike that can cruise at seventy or eighty miles an hour.’

James wanted the bike badly and had left out two important facts: Nigel
hadn’t
mentioned anything about him being invited on a run and he’d said that the Brigands cruised at up to a hundred, not at seventy or eighty.

Chloe didn’t look too impressed as she straightened up. ‘So what kind of bike would we be talking about?’

‘Five hundred cc. It’s a real beauty with less than six thousand miles on the clock.’

‘You’ve already looked?’ Chloe laughed. ‘You were supposed to ask the mechanics to check your brakes. And I can’t see it. I already had to write up a special report for the ethics committee on whether it was safe to let a sixteen-year-old ride around on the bike you’ve got.’

James shrugged. ‘But big bikes are safer in a lot of ways. I mean, imagine you’re on the motorway and there’s a big truck in the way spraying rain in your face. On a small bike you’re stuck behind it. On a bigger machine you can open up the throttle and overtake.’

Chloe blew air between her teeth. ‘Don’t get your hopes up, James.’

‘I think you should let him have a massive racing bike,’ Lauren grinned. ‘If he splats into a wall at a hundred and sixty miles an hour I’ll inherit twice as much money from my mum’s estate when I turn eighteen.’

‘If you can’t say something useful, Lauren, why don’t you shut the hell up?’ James asked irritably, before speaking to Chloe and trying not to make himself seem too desperate. ‘I’m not an idiot, you know? I’ll treat the bike with respect. And if I get the bike on finance, Rhino says he’ll let me speak to Teeth who’ll set me up with a summer job at Marina Heights so that I can make the payments. That way I’ll have a chance to get much closer to the Brigands clubhouse.’

Chloe seemed much more positive about this angle. James realised he should have used this argument first, because it didn’t look like he was just trying to get his hands on a cooler bike.

‘I suppose I can see the benefit of that,’ Chloe admitted.

‘Cool,’ James said. ‘The dealership is open until seven tonight. You have to sign some papers for the finance.’

‘Not bloody likely!’ Chloe said. ‘I’m not taking sole responsibility for letting a sixteen-year-old ride around on a hundred-and-twenty-mile-an-hour motorbike. I’ll have to speak to the chairwoman and the ethics committee.’

James felt slightly disappointed, but it had always been a long shot that he’d get the bike of his dreams immediately and at least Chloe was open to the suggestion.

*

Two dozen sixth formers hung out on the concrete platform above a sandy cove a couple of kilometres from the centre of Salcombe. The beach and the gentle waves coming off the sea were a novelty for James, but for the rest of the kids it was a regular hang-out where they could chill out, mess around, flirt and catch the last of the day’s sunshine.

Nigel dealt marijuana to a couple of kids and James got the impression that he could have sold way more if everyone wasn’t broke after the weekend. James’ real and fictional background was as a Londoner and everyone asked him questions about places to shop and places to stay.

Julian and his group of friends spoke vaguely of travelling to London for a few days in the summer, but they had nowhere to stay and they were all going on foreign holidays at different times with their parents so James got the impression that it was one of those things that would never come together.

After a while he sat with his back against a set of railings with Ashley and her friend Caitlyn on either side. Caitlyn wasn’t with anyone. She had straight dark hair and a short but chunky body. James thought about making a move, but reckoned it was best to concentrate on the mission for a day or two before trying it on with any girls, plus he was highly amused by the dirty looks he got off Julian every time he made Ashley laugh.

Once the sun dropped the wind came up and everyone headed through the centre of Salcombe to get something to eat at Marina Heights. Julian practically had steam venting out of his ears when James gave Ashley a lift on the back of his Honda and he confronted James angrily in the Marina Heights car park.

‘I don’t think it’s safe, her riding without a crash helmet,’ Julian said, as he got out of his car. ‘I noticed you wore yours.’

‘Whatever,’ James shrugged. ‘She’s a big girl, Jules.’

‘To be honest I think you should bugger off, James.’

Ashley made a deep sigh as James mocked Julian’s posh accent. ‘Well I think you’re the one who should jolly well bugger orf.’

Ashley stepped between the two lads. ‘For Christ’s sake, he only gave me a lift.’

‘I play rugby you know,’ Julian said, as he poked the pocket of James’ shirt. ‘So I’m warning you to back off.’

The other kids who’d ridden in Julian’s car were all clambering out. They could all see that he was jealous and a couple of them told him to leave it out.

‘This is such a dumb argument,’ James said, before turning his back and heading for the steps leading up to the restaurants. But Julian threw a punch.

‘Stop it!’ Ashley shouted, as the fist glanced the back of James’ head. ‘Stop being an arse.’

The blow was nothing but James couldn’t ignore it without looking like a pussy. He turned fast, grabbed Julian around the neck and thumped him against his little Fiat.

The group might not approve if James did something too physical, but he needed to make a mark and he’d just seen Julian dropping his car keys into his jacket pocket. James pulled out the keys and backed off before athletically tossing them on to the metal roof of the Brigands clubhouse.

‘Come at me again and I’ll flatten you,’ James warned, as the keys juddered down a couple of metres of sloped metal and came to rest nestling against a clump of moss.

Julian didn’t want to look weak, but he’d felt James’ strength when he’d been bundled against the car.

‘Christ,’ Julian shouted. ‘How the hell do I get up there?’

James grinned. ‘Knock on the front door and ask the Brigands if they’ve got a ladder.’

Ashley shook her head contemptuously as she started walking towards the stairs. James was worried that the group would see him as the bad guy, but as he walked up the stairs with Nigel and Ashley, three boys were laughing about Julian’s predicament. Caitlyn summed up the mood by telling James that he’d shown admirable restraint in not punching back.

When they got upstairs they headed into the diner. It was two-thirds full and they got nods and smiles from a bunch of other sixth-form kids who sat eating at the tables next to the open front of the restaurant. Fifties pop belted out of a tacky jukebox as Nigel handed James a tenner.

‘Got business to do,’ Nigel smiled. ‘Get me a cheeseburger, fries and Coke plus whatever you want.’

But when James turned around with the money Ashley was already being served. ‘You gave me a lift, so I’ll get the food,’ she said sweetly.

She paid for Nigel too, and when they headed towards a table to wait for their order Ashley sat next to James and put her hand in his lap. James liked her black nail varnish and the wispy hairs up her arm.