Scrap CH THREE part 9

Scrap CH THREE part 9
Carol Tobin has been out giving a clothing party with her mother and the babies have been crying in their carrycots all the way back to the yard. It takes some time to lug everything indoors and Captain doesn’t help matters by screeching loudly after being left alone all evening. Harry is still working in the barn despite the late hour and College’s low loader trailer is parked up by the quayside although there is no sign of him or of the tractor unit.
The bell on the extension phone rings and Julie picks up the receiver. ‘Fetch us a cup of tea will you I’m parched,’ says Harry. His mother-in-law says she will bring one over and perhaps he would like a few cakes while she is about it. Harry says that would be nice and the woman turns to her daughter with an exasperated look on her face. ‘I could do with a brew myself,’ says Carol, ‘you get the kettle on and I’ll sort these two out.’ Captain starts mimicking the baby cries and Julie throws him a couple of Brazil nuts to keep him quiet. ‘Whose idea was this?’ She grumbles as she sets about her late night catering task.
Carol settles the babies in their cots upstairs and stretches out on the sofa with her swollen feet in the air, massaging them and sighing with relief. ‘Here you are pet,’ says Julie as she sets the tea on the table by her side, ‘I’ll just get this over to his nibs and I’ll be back to join you.’
Harry is in the middle of dismantling an earth moving machine when his saviour arrives with tea and buns. ‘Don’t you ever stop?’ Asks Julie as she surveys the scene with interest. ‘I need to get it done to fill up the container,’ he explains, ‘I’ll be out here best part of the night so tell Carol not to wait up for me. Thanks for the tea by the way.’ Julie is happy to leave him to it and crosses the chilly yard back into the house to find her daughter fast asleep. She covers her with a blanket, checks the babies and quietly drives home.
As soon as the coast is clear Harry creeps into the kitchen and switches off the bell on the telephone. He doesn’t want Carol to hear if it rings and he is expecting a delivery for Merck on the 2am tide. Captain opens his beak to say something but is silenced by a biscuit which Harry hands over. He closes the living room door and quietly returns to the barn where the light will flash on the extension phone if the expected call comes in. He gets back to work on dismantling the machinery and packing it in crates ready for shipment. The paperwork looks very realistic and should not be challenged so it is not this venture which is causing the creases on his brow tonight.
Prince seems restless as he gets to his feet again, turns several times on the old bed cover and flops down with a grunt. He too seems rattled by something in the air. Harry puts a few bits of old timber into the stove and coaxes the flames with a piece of reinforcing rod. Sparks fly up into the flue and the wood crackles and spits. He closes the door and warms his hands before returning to his task. He always finds a sense of satisfaction with a job well done and as the last pieces of kit are stowed in their waxed paper wrappings he eases the lid onto the final crate and taps home the nails to hold it in place. ‘Come on Prince,’ he calls, ‘let’s take a look and see if that boat’s coming in yet.’ His watch indicates 2.15am but there is no sign of the vessel. He and Prince walk round the yard then up onto the quay bank but still there is nothing and the phone has not activated. Harry hates uncertainty and starts to imagine all the different causes for this delay. He lights his fourth cigarette then realises the chain smoking is making him feel sick and drops it into the sea. The air is damp and he shivers, pulls his donkey jacket shut and heads back to the relative comfort of the barn.
At 2.55am the light above the phone flashes and Harry pounces to answer the call. ‘What the fuck is going on?’ He demands to know, holding the receiver close to his ear. ‘He’d better be or we’ll have the law breathing down our necks and it’s mine will be first on the block.’ Merck’s man has assured him that the boat is on its way and Harry returns to the quay where he peers out to see a faint light appear on the starboard side of the small vessel.
‘About bloody time,’ he hisses as the boat pulls alongside and the two men climb up onto the dock. ‘We couldn’t get past the harbour patrol,’ whispers Tomasz as he pulls on the rope to moor the bow. Phil ties up the stern and the three of them quickly get to work unloading the merchandise into the waiting van. It is getting daylight by the time they finish and Harry kicks hard at the side of the vessel as he pushes it away from the landing dock. He studies the surrounding water to see if they are being observed and is relieved that they appear to be alone. The sooner they get away from his yard the better he will like it.