Lonnie25

Lonie felt several lifetimes had passed before he could make his excuses and leave the café. Mary clung onto his arm, as if he’d the last ticket for the lifeboat on the Maid of the Loch. He wrapped his coat around his shoulders and pulled the collar up, not because of the rain lashing against the windows outside, but as a kind of disguise. He crossed the road and went to the corner shop for fags. He gave Doris, the shopkeeper, his last few shillings. His pockets felt as empty as a bald man without a bunnet on his head. He had a fag before he crossed the road to help him feel better. It was still dangling in his mouth as he climbed the stairs to his office. He looked over at Audrey’s desk. She wasn’t there. In a way he was relieved. He wouldn’t have to face her, but he was also disappointed that she’d opted to cut and run. Underpinning those sensations, however, was a puffed out chest feeling that if she’d done that she must really care about him.

Audrey followed Davy up the stairs and along the corridor and into the office. He carried a bundle of the relevant newspapers, like a gentleman, leaving her only to carry a few articles. Lonie was crouching over his desk, his coat hanging over his chair, rifling through bits of paper, flinging one after the other to one side and then picking them up and peering at them again. He glanced up at Davy carrying a bundle of something. Then he flinched as he registered Audrey beside him. ‘Ah can’t find that number for that Cardinal.’ He addressed Davy, but dared another look at Audrey. She seemed fine. Better than fine. She seemed gorgeous and untouchable.

‘Where did you put it?’ Davy bent over Lonie’s desk to look for him.

‘Here. Here.’ Lonie helped aid his search by swatting bits of paper back and forth like a pinball’s flipper.

‘I’ve got the number.’ Audrey’s lips gave a thin smack of a smile at Davy. Her eyes met Lonie’s, standing next to him and his fell away. ‘I’ll just.’ She put the few copies of the newspapers’ she was carrying down sideways on the desk, amid the desolation of grubbed up paper, the mug and the two ashtrays full to overflowing with douts. She eased her bag’s strap off her shoulder, so she could catch her purse, before it slipped to the floor. Her contact numbers where filed alphabetically in a small black book for that purpose. She tore off a piece of paper from her notepad and carefully wrote Cardinal Robbins’s phone number, underlining it, before sliding it across the desk. ‘What do you want that for?’

Lonie looked at Davy as if it was a trick question and he needed clarification of the answer. ‘Ah need it because Ah need to phone Cardinal Robbins.’ He looked over at Audrey, ‘or at least that pet poodle, that Monsignor of his.’

Davy shuffled towards Lonie’s desk, his two hands a carry-cot that threatened to topple him and his bundle of newspapers onto the desk. ‘But why?’

‘So Ah can get her into the secure unit.’ Lonie nodded towards Audrey as if she was invisible.

‘I’ll phone.’ Audrey was insistent. ‘I think I can manage that myself. Thank you’ Her face, however, didn’t look as if it was giving out many thankyous.

‘Suit yerself.’ Lonnie reached down for his fags. He considered Davy, standing beside him and weighed down with print. ‘Whit’s all this stuff you’ve got anyway?’

‘Archives,’ said Davy. ‘Newspaper accounts of the Carol Peter’s trial.’

‘Whit do you want that for? I thought you were there.’ Lonnie pointed his lit fag at Davy. ‘You’re always bangin’ on about it.’

Davy leaned the covers of the newspapers against the desk to take the weight off his arms. His eyes grew wider and shifted sideways towards Audrey and back towards Lonie. ‘You can never know enough,’ he said diplomatically.

‘He’s been a gentleman and agreed to help me with some background material.’ Audrey’s eyes were like pins of different coloured lights.

‘Whit did you no' ask me for?’

‘You were too busy with your floozy.’ Audrey bit at her lip, but the words had slipped out.

‘Hi, Hi, no need for that.’ Lonie’s right hand, clutching his fag, dropped to his side. He sounded angry and apologetic at the same time.

Davy grunted, as he stopped the papers from spilling. ‘I’ll just go and put this over on my desk.’ He hobbled away, his back curved.

‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.’ She shook her head in disbelief and made to follow Davy.

Lonie stuck his hand out, his fingers curled into a muddled stop sign as she passed him. ‘She’s no’ my girlfriend, you know?’

Audrey turned back towards him, something in the tone, arresting her. His face looked hollowed out and mud-eyed. ‘What is she then?’

Lonie sucked greedily on his fag. ‘Ah don’t know. She’s a friend.’ He looked over at Audrey’s sceptical face and added. ‘She puts a bit of wind in my sail.’

Audrey rocked back and forward on her heels. ‘I’ve heard it all now. She- puts- a- bit- of- wind- in- my- sails!’ A hollow hiccup of a laugh escaped her mouth as she drew the last part out.

‘There’s no point second guessing the future.’ He stepped back, his fingers feeling for the back of his chair, so he could sit down. ‘ Ah’m just an ordinary guy. If Ah’m no’ the man you think Ah’m, whose fault’s that?’

‘It’s your fault.’ Audrey looked at him sternly. ‘Not mine. Not this other woman. Yours.’

Lonie leaned across, his face wrestling with the emotion of what he was trying to say. ‘Don’t be judging her! She’s a good woman and she’s had a hard life.’

‘I’d hardly say she’s good.’ Audrey dismissed that idea with a wave of her hand, but snagged a newspaper on the cuff of her blouse and it sailed across the room and dropped onto the floor.

Lonie longed to help, but knew she didn’t want his help. He pulled his chair over and sat down. ‘She’s only as good as other people allow her to be,’ he said mournfully. ‘Ah know Ah should get new hobbies, new interests,’ he explained, ‘but I quite like the old ones. Ah’ve stuck to what Ah know and who Ah know.’ He looked across willing her to look up at him, but she didn’t. Audrey skedaddled away to where Davy Brown had a stack of newspapers’ piled beside his desk. ‘Until now,’ he added, when she was far enough away not to hear him. The phone on his desk began ringing. He picked up the receiver. ‘Whit?’ he said.

‘Did nobody teach you at that big fancy college you went to how to answer a phone?’ He looked across the room. Bresslen was waving to him on the other side of the glass booth.

‘Nah,’ said Lonie. ‘It was as cheap as your suit. And it was night school. They only taught me how to write in sentences and how to dae a bit of arse lickin’. But there’s nothing Ah can teach you about that.’

‘The fatman was wondering what you’ve got?’

Lonie watched Bresslen, though the glass, pointing to the fatman who sat three- feet away from him at another desk as if it was an identification parade and he didn’t want Lonie to get it wrong.

‘Tell him Ah’ve got fuck all so far.’ Lonie spoke in a rush, to make nothing sound like something. 'But Ah’m goin’ to speak to the Cardinal again and Ah’ve got Audrey running through all the old back copies of Carol Peter’s arrest and trial so we know what buttons to push with her.’ He watched Bresslen holding the mouth piece and shouting over towards the fatman.

‘The fatman says you’ve got a few days.’ Bresslen sounded out of breath, as if he was personally running back and forth with the news.

‘Right.’ Lonie was just about to hang up, but he looked across and Bresslen had his hand over the receiver again and the fatman was saying something to him.

‘The fatman wants to know how our bet with big tits is going?’ Bresslen gave him a thumb's up.

Lonie shook his head. ‘Yeh, it’s goin’ great. Ah wanted to talk to the fatman about that. Ah might need a sub on my wages until payday.’

‘Jesus,’ said Bresslen. ‘It’s only Monday.’

‘Well that means there’s only four more working days to pay day, doesn’t it? And Ah’ve had a lot of expenses with this case. You want me to put in a claim for me and Audrey?’ Lonie watched Bresslen interrupting the fatman again.

‘Much you need?’ asked Bresslen cautiously.

‘Just the usual.’ He waved across in acknowledgement and hung up.

Just when he thought things were getting better he watched Davy cutting across the desk near to him, with his coat on, looking his normal glum self.

‘Can I have a word?’ Davy asked.

Lonie laughed as this strange new formality. ‘Take a stool. Lonie spoke out of the side of his mouth mimicking the gangster movies they both loved.

Davy dragged a chair from the unused desk closest and sat facing Lonie. He leaned in and scratched at his nose, his head almost touching Lonie’s. ‘The thing is,’ he whispered, ‘she’s been on the phone.’ He gestured with his head towards Audrey: 'to the Cardinal. And from what I can make out they’re not playing ball. She’s not getting access to Carol Peters and any questions you have must be written down and sent to the Cardinal’s office for vetting and, only when they agree, will they be sent on.’

‘Hing on.’ Lonie reached for his Woodbine.

Davy took the opportunity to search his pockets for his Silk Cut too. They faced each other as if they were both holding a smoking gun.

‘Have Ah still got access to Goldenwell? asked Lonie’

‘Don’t know. Think so.’

‘So it’s just Audrey they’re messin’ about?’

‘I wouldn’t say that. If you’ve got to send every question to the Cardinal’s office you’re pretty much fucked too.’

‘Ah know. Ah know.’ Lonie allowed his eyes to wander across to where Audrey had her head buried in old newspapers. ‘How’s she takin’ it?’

‘It’s hard to say.’ Davy leaned across. ‘Not very well. She doesn’t know what to do. That’s why I came across here.’

‘And you think Ah do?

‘No.’ Davy got up from his seat and slapped Lonie on the back of the shoulder. ‘I’ll leave it with you two young things. I think I’ll be going home.’

The fingers on Lonie’s left hand sat on his desk playing one beat with his index finger and the other fingers joining in like a jazz combo as he thought. He pulled across the bit of paper with the Cardinal’s number, picked up the phone and dialled. He recognised the whine of the Monseigneur’s voice, noted the ease and familiarity of the way he addressed and dismissed him, and any suggestion that she, or he, should get access to the locked world of the Goldenwell secure unit. Lonie could hear his voice wearing, begining to make the small sighs of apologies, before hanging up.

‘Do you go fishing?’ asked Lonie.

‘No.’

‘Well, as Max Bygraves says, let me tell you a story. Some influential people think Ah’m good at stories.’

‘I don’t think…’

‘…Well let me think for you. If I was goin’ fishin’ I’d ask those that donate money to many of Cardinal Robbins’s various funds, whether they realised they were being taped. Whether, in fact, Cardinal Robbins had an extensive library of tapes. And Ah’d have to ask them if these tapes had any part in how much they’d given. You’re a busy man. You still listenin’ to my little story?’

‘Yes.’

Lonie sighed, as if it hurt him admitting it. ‘Then Ah’d work my way back, with my little fishing rod, following the line to the next person down that donated. You see, the surprising thing about people is they only think it’s happening to them. They rarely believe others are involved. It would only take one to crack and we could print something. Probably something small, near the back page. Then the phone calls would start and we’d get little tips. The story would grow and move nearer the beginning of the paper. Maybe even the front page. And my little rod would bring in a bumper crop of fish. And those poor sods that thought this can’t be happening and this can only be happening to me would realise the good Cardinal has got a lot in common with a certain J Edward Hoover. What do you think of my little story?’

‘It’s absurd fabrication and I don’t like it much. And if anything like that ever managed to find its way into print, even to a rag like yours, we would be sure to sue for every penny you’ve got.’

‘Sure.’ Lonie whistled down the line. ‘You get that on tape? The thing is, Ah’ve got a good few holidays comin’ up. And Ah fancy a wee fishin’ trip. Ah don’t see there can be any harm in that. Do you?’

‘What exactly do you want?’

‘Ah want unhindered access to the secure unit, day or night, for me and Audrey Crowood. And Ah don’t want any of those monkeys on the gate, or in the wards, givin’ us a hard time. You got that?’ Lonie whistled again, but less stridently.

‘We don’t like threats Mr Lonnigan.’

‘Who said anything about threats? Ah just enjoyed tellin you a wee story.’

‘Hypothetically, would you want anybody else from the Glaswonian to have access to the secure unit?’

‘In a hypothetical world Ah’d really like just me and Audrey to have access.’

‘I’ll need to get back to you.’

‘Well, you’ve got fifteen minutes. That’s when I finish.’ Lonie whistled down the line for old time’s sake, before hanging up.