Dark Waters (7 page)

Mungo had him on the ground, and was ready to pound a fist into his face. It was only Mam who stopped him. ‘Mungo! For goodness sake let him go!’ she screamed at him as she ran down the steps to pull them apart. ‘Help me, Col.’

Together, they managed to wrench the struggling Mungo to his feet.

Bobby Grant sat on the ground and rubbed his chin. He had a smarmy, insolent smile on his face. ‘You’re always good for a story, Mungo.’

Mungo snarled back at him. ‘Don’t get on the wrong side of me, Bobby-boy. I can make you very sorry.’

Bobby Grant scoffed at the threat. ‘You’re a small-time
thug, Mungo. Nothing else. Who do you think you are? Al Capone?’

That really made Mungo angry and he struggled to get to him, but Mam and Col held him fast.

‘He’s no’ worth it, Mungo,’ Col said.

The brawl had alerted the neighbours. Some peeked out of their doors, or drew net curtains back warily to see the cause of the commotion – only to step back in, hide quickly, when they saw that Mungo was involved.

‘You think I’m a small-time crook? Ha! You know nothin’! Nothin’!’ Mungo yelled. ‘You wait and see!’

Mam stood between her sons and the reporter. ‘Be on your way. You’ll not get a story here this night.’

He did though. The next day there was a piece about the award, and the brawl. It also said the McCanns were not available for comment.

More trouble from Mungo, and his mother wasn’t any help.

‘They can send you the award. You don’t have to go,’ she said.

Added to everything else, winter rushed back with a vengeance, and the nights were once again bone-crushingly cold.

Col remembered Klaus in one of the air-raid shelters
up by the loch. He’d be freezing, and probably hungry.

He sat by the fire after tea one night toasting his toes, and exhausted after another tirade from Mungo about the story in the paper. His mother had gone off to her bingo, but Col couldn’t stop thinking about Klaus.

He could still smell his mother’s broth, still feel its warmth in his stomach. I bet Klaus could fair go some of that broth, he thought.

Mungo would never know. Col knew now he would never risk Mungo following him, or finding out about Klaus.

He didn’t want to leave the fire, but at least, he consoled himself, he had the fire to look forward to when he came home.

He filled a flask with soup, stuffed some bread in a bag and, as an afterthought, an old duvet his mother was always planning to take to the homeless hostel in town.

As he made his way up towards the loch, Col worried about how he would find Klaus. But he needn’t have. Klaus found him, as he stood once more transfixed at the spot where he had saved Dominic – all the fears, all the terror rushing back at him.

‘I’m mad to come here,’ he told Klaus. ‘When I come
here, I’m back in that water again. Freezing, and frightened and …’ He shivered.

‘Then why did you come?’ Klaus asked.

He looked even paler, Col thought. Paler, thinner, and more unkempt.

In answer, Col shoved the bag with the duvet and the flask in it at him. ‘Here, I brought you these. It’s one blinkin’ cold night.’

Klaus sounded puzzled. ‘You brought me this? Why?’

He didn’t know why. He couldn’t answer that. It wasn’t like him. He shrugged. ‘Maybe I lost my brain when I fell in that loch.’

‘Maybe you found yourself,’ Klaus said in a soft voice.

‘Don’t talk wet,’ Col groaned.

Klaus smiled. ‘You’re not a bit like your brother.’

Col jumped angrily to his defence. ‘Don’t you say a word about my brother. He’s the best.’

‘He hates my kind,’ Klaus reminded him.

‘Why should he no’? You come here. Take our jobs, live off us. Why don’t you just go back to your own country?’

He heard himself repeating exactly what he always heard Mungo saying.

‘I want to, Col. You don’t know how much I want to,’
Klaus said.

‘So, why don’t you?’

Klaus shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his anorak and shivered. Col saw fear in his face, and thought he understood why.

‘You’re frightened they wouldn’t send you home. They’d put you in jail. Is that it?’ Col thought of him in his cold, dungeon hideaway. ‘Even jail’s got to be better than this.’

Klaus shook his head. ‘Not jail, Col. I’ve never done anything wrong in my life. I only wanted to make money for my family.’

‘But, you can’t stay here for ever.’

‘I don’t want to,’ Klaus said. His face brightened. ‘Maybe you can help me get home.’

That made Col laugh. ‘Me? I can’t even help myself. I’ve not got any money.’

‘You helped Dominic and you didn’t have any money.’

Col laughed. ‘Jump in the loch then, and I’ll fish you out.’

Klaus managed a faint smile. He was a foreigner, Col thought. Probably didn’t share his sense of humour.

Klaus took him to the shelter where he was hiding out. It was dirty and damp and icy cold. Klaus wrapped
himself in the duvet and told Col all about himself, the village where he came from, all about his family. His mother, who laughed a lot. His sisters, one who wanted to marry and have plenty of babies, and the other who wanted a career and beautiful clothes like the models she saw in tattered magazines.

‘They want a good life, Col. Like everyone else in the world.’ It seemed to Col that he told him every detail about his life. So long, Col thought, since he’d talked to anyone about it, and had anyone to listen. And Col told him about the award, and the trip to London.

‘Why don’t you go?’ Klaus asked him. ‘It would be an adventure.’

‘That’s what my teacher says. But I can’t. Mungo wouldn’t like it. My mother wouldn’t come with me. And I’m not going with them by myself.’ He paused. ‘Anyway, I don’t want to go.’

Klaus stared at him for a long while, saying nothing. ‘But you do,’ he said at last.

And Col knew it was true. He did want to go to London.

But Mungo would never let him.

Chapter Twelve

‘If Col doesn’t want to go, Dominic, you’ll just have to accept it.’ Mrs Sampson had been trying to placate her son since Col had phoned to tell them his decision.

‘But he does want to go,’ Dominic insisted, then added, ‘He told me, he’s desperate to go.’

Ella tutted loudly. ‘What a liar!’

‘Ella!’ Mrs Sampson scolded.

Dominic turned on his sister. ‘It’s all your fault. You don’t want him to go. You don’t like him.’

‘That’s true,’ Ella admitted. ‘I don’t want him to go, and I don’t like him. I don’t trust him.’ She pleaded with her mum. ‘They’re a dangerous family, mother. They’re always in the newspaper. His dad was notorious as well. He was killed driving a getaway car.’

‘I know their reputation,’ Mrs Sampson conceded. ‘But that makes no difference. Col saved Dominic’s life.
He’ll always be special to me.’

Dominic stuck his tongue out at his sister. He leapt at his mother. ‘If you asked him, Mum, he would go. Please, Mum! Can we go and see Col?’

Ella screeched at him, ‘You’re not going to that house. We could have a lovely trip to London … just us. I’ll make a cardboard cut out of Col McCann. I’ll even sit beside it.’

‘Shut up you!’ Dominic yelled. ‘If Col doesn’t go to London, neither do I!’

Ella smiled. ‘This trip is sounding better by the minute.’

It was only because of Dominic that Mrs Sampson found herself knocking on the door of the McCanns’ house. Dominic was in tow of course. He had refused to stay at home.

She hoped the notorious Mungo would not be there, but to her dismay it was Mungo himself who opened the door.

He spread himself in the doorway, his whole body language barring their way.

‘What do you want?’

Before Mrs Sampson could answer, Dominic, who
couldn’t read body language too well, had caught sight of Col and darted under Mungo’s arm.

‘Hey, Col,’ he shouted. ‘It’s me!’

‘I’d never have guessed,’ Col said, coming towards him.

‘Dominic!’ Mrs Sampson tried to call him back but it was no use, he was in now. ‘Sorry,’ she said to Mungo.

It was only when Mam hurried from the kitchen that Mungo moved aside sullenly.

‘Oh, Mrs Sampson, it’s yourself. Come on in, would you like a wee cup of tea?’

Col was glad his mother greeted them so warmly. He wanted the Sampsons to know that his family was special too. In spite of all they had heard.

‘I’ve just made some pancakes,’ Mam said.

‘My Mam makes the best pancakes,’ Col said proudly.

‘I’m sure she does, Col,’ Mrs Sampson smiled. ‘I’ve never mastered the art of making them myself.’

Mam ushered them into her living room, and switched off the television.

Mungo stood leaning against the doorway, silently, just watching. His face giving nothing away.

‘If you’ve come to try to persuade me to go, I’m not going,’ Col glanced at his brother as if to reassure him.

‘Well, if you’re not going, I’m not going.’ Dominic
flopped on to the sofa in a huff. ‘There’s no point if you don’t go.’

Mrs Sampson sat beside him and patted his knee. She looked at Col. ‘You know what he’s like, Col. This is all he goes on about. He’s driving the whole family potty. I promised I’d come and ask you just one more time. But he is right. There is no point if you don’t go.’

Col looked at her. She was a really pretty woman, in a pale sort of a way, but in the light from the fire she had a golden glow. Her golden hair, her gold earrings, the gold necklet she wore, her gold watch, all gleamed in the firelight and seemed to make her come alive. Mungo was watching her too. Probably thinking exactly what Col was thinking. Mrs Sampson was pretty, beautiful even, but she wasn’t a patch on his Mam. His Mam, with her beautiful eyes and her rich, warm laughter. She was laughing now, smiling at Dominic.

‘Yes, I’ve heard some tales about you, Dominic,’ she said.

‘Please let him go, Mrs McCann.’

‘I’m not stoppin’ him, darlin’.’ She turned to Col. ‘Am I, son?’

Her glance took in Mungo. As if she was waiting for him to say something. Mungo didn’t. He remained stonily silent and sombre by the doorway. Mrs Sampson
didn’t wait for Col’s answer. ‘We all want Col with us. We’ll be flown down and put up in a lovely hotel, and you, and … .’ She glanced up. ‘Mungo, of course, I’m sure you’d both enjoy it.’

‘No’ me,’ Mungo declared coldly.

Dominic shot forward. ‘It would be great. It would be brilliant. It would be a laugh a minute.’

Col tried to say he didn’t want to go. But he couldn’t find the words. He
did
want to go. He’d never wanted to go anywhere so much.

His mother hesitated, too. And with that ever so slight hesitation, Col knew his mother wanted him to be there. But she knew it would cause friction between her boys and that was what she wanted to avoid more than anything.

To Col’s astonishment it was Mungo who spoke up. ‘You know, Col, maybe you should go. It would be a great experience for you and I wouldn’t want to hold you back from that.’

Col swallowed. Was he hearing right? ‘Do you really mean that?’

Dominic leapt to his feet shouting, ‘Col’s coming to London!’

His mother pulled him back down, but she was beaming with pleasure.

They do really want me there, Col thought. It isn’t just Dominic, it’s Mrs Sampson too.

Mungo was nodding his head. ‘Naw, Col. You go. You can’t turn down somethin’ like that.’

That was all the encouragement Mam needed. ‘I think it might be good for Col as well. As you so rightly say, Mungo, an experience.’

Now, Col managed a smile. ‘You’ll enjoy it, Mam. London. You can go to the shops there.’ He looked at Mrs Sampson. ‘My Mam loves shopping.’

But Mam was already shaking her head. ‘No. Not me, Col. I’m not a great one for travelling. I never go on holidays or anything.’ She looked at Mrs Sampson. ‘I know Col will be fine with you.’

And nothing Col said would persuade her to change her mind. Mungo joined in the plans and listened to all the talk of travel arrangements and hotels. Col had seldom seen him so affable. When they had finished, he rubbed his hands together. ‘Right, Mam, what about those pancakes then?’

It turned out to be a very enjoyable afternoon. Mungo was at his very best, and their Mam had Mrs Sampson giggling with laughter with her tales of bingo.

By the time they left it had all been arranged. Col would go to London with the Sampsons.

* * *

‘What made you change your mind, bruv?’ Col asked Mungo later. ‘I mean, you were so against it, and then, suddenly …’

Mungo only shrugged. ‘They seemed OK. She seems really nice, actually. And she’s right. There isn’t any point if you don’t go.’ He smiled. ‘You really did want to go all the time, didn’t ye?’

‘No, if it meant us two fallin’ out.’

Mungo patted him on the back. ‘Good boy.’

‘Good boy indeed,’ Mam said. ‘Nothing should ever come between you two boys.’

She looked long and hard at Col.

‘What are you thinking, Mam?’ he asked.

‘I’m thinking about what you’re going to wear at this do.’

Col had got a new suit for his granny’s funeral only last year. ‘I’ll wear that,’ he said.

His mother shook her head. ‘No, indeed. You’re not wearing a funeral suit to something like that. No. I’ll tell you what you’re going to wear.’

She hesitated dramatically. Col waited.

‘You’re going to wear the kilt,’ she said.

Chapter Thirteen

‘I am glad you are going. You did really want to go, didn’t you?’

Klaus sat on a box in the shelter, his face hidden in the shadows. Col couldn’t understand how he could live here and he told him so.

‘I have no choice, Col.’

‘But it’s horrible and it’s smelly and it’s …’ Col blew a cloud of breath into the dark air. ‘
So
cold.’

It was all of these things, and more. It was scary.

This time, Col had brought Klaus sandwiches and some left-over chicken. ‘But I’ve got to take the flask back. Mam missed it.’

Klaus had the duvet wrapped around him. ‘This too?’

Col thought he looked comical wearing the red-checked duvet. ‘No. Forget that. I’ll tell her I took it to Oxfam.’