New Directions (30) total rewrite

Outside the sun had weakened, the canal’s morning mirror-like surface now animated by gentle ripples. Overhead exploratory wisps diluted the blue and just above the western horizon a dark band of cloud prepared to march slowly east like an invading army. I hadn’t walked much more than two-hundred yards when a thought hit me: shit I could get Stokes killed. Not much of a loss to society, true, but there’d been enough killing I didn’t want to be a part of it any more. Doubling back I returned to the barge. 

 

‘I thought I said don’t come here again.’ Barry greeted me as he hastily stuffed a phone into a trouser pocket.

 

’Sit your baggy arse down and listen to me if you wanna stay alive.’ Obeying like a naughty Labrador he froze, stunned by the tone of my voice.

 

‘What’s up now?’ He said, attempting indignation, but there was fear in his eyes.

 

I sat opposite a meagre coffee table with a lone bottle of malt on it. I looked straight into his eyes, ‘Why do you think I retired, Barry?’

 

Caught totally unawares he lost the power of speech, ‘wa-wa-wa-um-um-wa-wa?

 

‘Why do you think I retired?

 

‘I dunno.’ He recovered some composure. Shaking his head he said, I dunno . . . no fucker knows, mate. You know that.

 

‘Harry knows.’

 

‘Well he would wouldn’t he? You were his number one.’ 

 

‘Until he tried to have me killed in Antwerp.’

 

‘You what?’ Barry started sweating, colour drained from his face. I’d taken him into a zone he did not want to be in. Crossing one of the biggest and most feared operators in the south was certain death. Even knowing this was very dangerous.

 

‘Why you telling me this. Fuck! I don’t wanna know. Leave me the fuck out of this.’

 

 Ignoring Barry’s panicking pleas I carried on. ‘He did me a favour, Barry. Gave me the excuse — the motivation, to get out before I got on the radar. The law’s got nothing on me, I’m virtually invisible.’

 

’So you’re alright, why you fucking telling me?’

 

’To keep you alive.’

 

‘This is a bloody funny way of keeping me alive. You just put my head in a fucking noose.’

 

’Not if you listen to me. Harry forgot what I did before he got me to join him when I came back.’

 

‘I’ve heard it said you were a mercenary in Africa or somewhere.’

 

‘You’ve heard wrong, forget the bollocks. Harry and I go way back, but that doesn’t involve you.’

 

‘Nothing involves me and I wanna keep it that way.’

 

‘Yeah, I’ve put you in a spot, but if you do what I say you’ll be OK. Listen, when I got the feeling something was iffy about my Antwerp trip I did some digging. I contacted my ex-commanding officer.’

 

‘So you were in the army—

 

’Shut the fuck up. We have a lot of contacts all over Europe. Let’s just say the threat to me was being neutralised while I turned right round and headed back to Harry.’

 

‘You’re not going to tell me you tried to kill him.’ Stokes laughed disbelief written all over his face. I said nothing, but I did smile. 

 

‘I offered him a deal. He and his family stay alive and all his contacts get to keep their dirty secrets providing the law never even gets the slightest tickle about me. If they do, all hell . . . so to speak.’

 

Understanding dawned, ‘You bastard.’ 

 

’Ah, now, you've got it. When I said no names I meant it. I know you Stokes. No offence, but you are a slimy piece of filth who’d sell your kids for a profit. I got you into this, I regret that, but keep it shut —  you’ve never seen me and you’re safe. Remember that if you don’t want at least three contracts on you. A lot of very nasty people have a lot to lose. Oh by the way repeat one word of this chat and I’ll do for you myself. 

 

Getting up I found a clean glass and put on the table. ’I’ll tell you how to make contact.’ I said as I left.