Forever Is Over (111 page)

“
Bad luck Charlie or bad judgement?
”

“
Both I suppose, Kiffer. I
’
ll win it back though, I always do.
”

“
It
’
s nice to hear you so confident, Charlie, it really is, but remind
me how much you owe me?
”

“
I
’
ve borrowed four grand, Kiffer.
”

“
Four grand, so at today
’
s rate of exchange, that
’
s six grand you owe
me, Charlie, isn
’
t it?
”

“
I
’
ll get it you, Kiffer.
”

“
I know you will, Charlie! How exactly will you get it me though,
Charlie, that
’
s what I want to hear?
”

“
If I could just borrow another grand, Kiffer, I reckon I could turn it all around.
”

Kiffer allowed himself a little chuckle.

“
That
’
s good, Charlie! Really good! Who
’
s lending you that, then?
”

“
I was hoping you would, Kiffer.
”

Me?
I
’
d love to mate, but as we
’
ve j
ust said, you owe me six grand
already. I can
’
t afford to be throwing g
ood money after bad. If I gave
you another grand, that would be seven and a half grand that you
’
d owe
me and that
’
s a significant amount of money. Too much to lose.

As far as I can see, Charlie, the only luck you seem to be having right now, is bad luck. I operate my business just like a bank, so if I decide you
are getting in to a situation where it is becoming increasingly unlikely
that I am going to get my money back, I have to resort to Plan B.
”

I started to feel very uncomfortable. Kiffer had already told me what
P
lan B was.

“
You won
’
t get your money by killing me, Kiffer!
”

That was the switch he needed. Good Godfather, became Bad
Godfather. Kiffer lunged forward, grabbed me by the hair and pulled
my head down towards the floor. He gripped a thick bundle of hair with
his left hand, I was passive, there was no point in me fighting back,
with his right hand, he delivered a barrage of upper cuts to my nose. It
immediately started dripping thick blobs of dark red blood.

“
I don
’
t believe you
’
re in a position to start fucking lecturing me on
what to do and what not to do, Charlie! Believe me, if I want to kill
you, I will kill you! Simple as that!
”

My blood was dripping on to the floor of the limousine, I didn
’
t have
a handkerchief or a tissue, nor did I want to ask for one from Kiffer. I
took the letters I had earlier stuffed in my pocket and used them to wipe
my nose and wipe the blood up off the floor.

“
I
’
ll get you your money, Kiffer.
”

“
You
’
ve got twenty four hours, old man!
”

Twenty four hours! I felt like a dead man walking now! Six grand in
twenty four hours was, barring a lo
ttery win, near on impossible.

             
“
I
’
ll get it, but I need more than twenty four hours.
”

             
Kiffer was not known for having a soft centre.

“
I don
’
t care what you need, Ch
arlie. What you have is twenty
four hours and after that if you do not
have my six thousand pounds, I
will bring you back here and I will get t
he boys to start snapping your
bones, starting with your legs and mo
ving upwards until they get to
your neck.
”

I think I gulped so loud it was audible back home.

“
Boys!
”
Kiffer shouted,
“
come and get this old fucker out of my limo!
”

The
‘
Smirking Giant
’
and
‘
Muscles
’
appeared , dragged me out of
the car and pinned me face down on the
‘
Sunny Road
’
Muscles sat on
my back, he had been smoking a cigarette which he now decided to
extinguish by stubbing it out on the back of my neck. As the heat burnt
into my skin, I yelled out,

“
What the bloody hell are you doing that for, Muscles?
”

Matter of factly, he replied,

“
It
’
s my job, Charlie! If you think this is bad, wait and see what
’
ll
happen to you in twenty four hours time, if you don
’
t get Kiffer his
money.
”

As Muscles was talking, with his knees digging into my back, the
‘
Smirking Giant
’
was rifling through my pockets, taking my wallet
out, then he removed the chain I had on around my neck. I began
struggling at first, but Muscles had a sharp knife in his other hand and
each time I struggled, he pressed the blade into my neck so that it drew
blood. I could feel it, trickling down my back like Castrol oil. I decided
motionless was a better policy and remained still as the
‘
Smirking Giant
’
removed my watch, it was only when he began prising my wedding ring
off my finger that I regained the struggle.

“
Come on lads!
”
I protested,
“
I
’
ve had my wedding ring for thirty
years!
”

“
It
’
s a deposit, Charlie,
”
Muscles explained,
“
If we get the money
off you, depending on what sort of mood Kiffer
’
s in, you might just get
it back. If we don
’
t, you
’
ll never see that ring again and we
’
ll be straight
around to your house. We
’
ll strip it bare like a swarm of locusts in a barley field and then, in all likelihood, we
’
ll come looking for you. We
like you Charlie, but Kiffer has a reputation to maintain, there
’
s no point
being sentimental in our game.
”

“
How am I supposed to get six gr
and in twenty four hours, when
you
’
ve just taken my wallet with my last
fifty quid in it and my watch
and wedding ring, the only two things I own that I could pawn?
”

Muscles stood up, taking the weight off my back. I stayed on the
floor for a few seconds as he
’
d knocked the wind out of my sails and I needed to regain some composure. Once I felt a little better, I pushed
myself up onto my feet. By the time I was upright, Kiffer
’
s henchmen
were back in the limo. The engine started. The electric window came down and Kiffer put his head out of the window,

“
Twenty four hours, Charlie, the clock is already ticking. It
’
s time to
sink or swim. If you need any motivation just remember Kenny Beagrie.
Everyone pays me back, Charlie, everyone!
”

The limo sped off leaving a trail of dust in its wake. I began my lonely walk home, continuing to dab my bloody nose and cigarette
burnt back, with the morning
’
s post. What I needed to figure out, and
quickly, was how on earth I was going to get hold of six grand by the following morning.

Paul Newman, the legendary Hollywood actor, when asked by
journalists about his long and happy marriage to Joanne Woodward, in
the fickle world of Hollywood, allegedly responded by famously saying,
something along the lines of,
“
Why go out for hamburger, when you have steak at home?
”
In my life, I had steak at home, but
I must have kept putting it in
the freezer, as I had a habit of totally forgetting i
t was there, thinking
I had nothing in and then going out an
d picking up something to stop
me from starving! For five years though, I did starve myself of love, as I
thought there was potentially the juciest fillet steak ever coming my way.
Once you haven
’
t been fed for five years though, you realise someone
may have pinched your meal and it may be time to just start eating and
time to stop being so bloody fussy!

As July 4
th
approached, I pondered whether there was really much
point travelling up to Ormskirk again. Over the last four years, the
journey up to our
“
Sunny Road
”
had not led to an emotional re-union and, despite having optimistic moments, most of the time I just could
not see how t
his time would be any different.
In my mind, there were two pos
sible outcomes that could have
happened in relation to the letter I had sent to Richie
’
s Mum and Dad
’
s.
Either Richie had received it and had d
ecided it was no longer in his
interest to meet me because his lif
e had subsequently moved on OR
he had not received it and his life was
just continuing along the same
path, oblivious to my heartfelt appeal.
Irrespective of which of those
scenarios was the right one, there was n
othing to suggest Richie would
turn up. My problem was, some romantic notion was t
elling me to give
it one last shot.

I was still working at Dillons, a job that I had thought was temporary,
had kept me in gainful employment for over four years. I was enjoying it
and although I was never going to become a millionaire from my wage
there, I did not ever wake up dreading work. Twelve months earlier, life
at Dillons had become more interesting when a new employee, called
Roddy Baker, started. Roddy soon became my closest friend both in
and out of work. I had overheard some of the other staff saying that he
had come into retail as a complete career change from what he had done
previously. For a while, I did not know what that other career had been,
but it was blatantly obvious that he had not read a single book since leaving primary school! Roddy just survived on his sense of humour.
We used to have lunch together most days and I would always finish lunch in higher spirits than when it started.

“
If this is a career change,
”
I asked Roddy, one lunchtime,
“
what
was it you did before?
”

“
I was a Headmaster.
”
Roddy replied stoically.

Men often think that women are easily fooled, but you would
have to be the world
’
s most na
ï
ve person to think Roddy had been a
Headmaster, he looked far too youthful and the only Queen
’
s English he
spoke, was the English of the
‘
Queens
’
in Soho. Not that he was camp,
I
’
m just saying he had a strong London accent. Really strong.