One Night (4 page)

Across the road from the pub two men were sitting in a parked car. The driver was reading a newspaper, tutting over the sports pages. The passenger had his eyes fixed on the door of the pub. You might have said he was watching it like a hawk if his appearance hadn’t been so entirely un-hawk-like. He had the robust, slightly over-fed look of a butcher. Ruddy skin, large plump hands, a body the shape of a barrel and two small black eyes set deep in his round face. He looked like he ate well and often.

The driver was his mirror image, if the mirror was the type you got in a fairground fun-house. He was six foot six inches tall and as thin as a rake. His long matchstick legs were folded up in front of him in the foot well, his bony knees brushing the steering wheel. His face was almost unnaturally long too, giving him the look of a much shorter man who’d been stretched.

“Bloody Smith’ll be out by the end of the week if they’ve got any sense,” he said. “Five games on the trot he’s lost. Couldn’t manage his way out of a paper bag.”

The passenger grunted, he didn’t care for football. He squinted as the door of the pub opened. The light wasn't good but he'd been told to look for a guy with a big bag and Joel was an easy spot.

"Here he is," he said, "poor sod."

The driver folded his newspaper. "Wait for the call. Harry's got someone inside hasn't he." It wasn’t a question.

“Harry’s got someone inside everywhere,” said the passenger. T
hey waited. The two men watched Joel and Eve walking up the street, they weren’t touching each other but they were walking very close together.

“They look friendly,” said the driver. “I thought he was on his own.”

The passenger nodded. "He was. Jesus, how's he pulled already?”

His phone rang and he brought it up to his ear.

“Hello.”

He listened for
a few seconds then spoke.

"Yeah we can see him. He's got the bag and some bird with him as well." He paused, listening. “No, couldn’t really see her. We only clocked him because of the bag.”

He nodded at the driver who started the engine and pulled smoothly out of the space. “Yeah, we’re following them,” said the passenger into the phone. He hung up and slipped it back into the pocket. 

“Take it slow,” he said to the driver. “Drive past them, I want to get a closer look at the woman.”

Joel was conscious of the car coming up behind them. His ears pricked at the sound of it. He wasn’t worried but he was aware. It was probably just someone searching for a particular address, he told himself. He kept listening to it though. He
had to stay alert. Being with Eve was relaxing him but he knew mustn’t forget what he needed to do. She said something and he looked at her, realising that he’d drifted into his own thoughts and not even heard her.

“Sorry,” he said, “Miles away.”

“I said I’m glad I asked you for that fag,” she grinned at him. “I gave up years ago.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Brazen! I like it!”

She blushed, “I’m not that bad.”

“I wasn’t complaining.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the cigarettes, lit one for himself. “I take it you don’t want one?”

She smiled and shook her head. “Thank you though. For all of this. I needed a night out. Really needed it. It’s hard. Mum’s wonderful most of the time but it does wear me down.”

He looked at her, “It must do. So are you enjoying it so far? Your night out?”

She paused. “I think I might be enjoying it too much.”

Joel was quiet. He liked her. He really liked her. But now was no time for romance. Fuck what was thinking carrying on with her? At best he was distracting himself from what he should be doing. At worst he was dragging this girl into it too. Eve. With her eyes and her smile and those trim curves that he couldn’t stop looking at.

He stopped walking and turned to her, “I’m enjoying it too but I’ll be gone after tonight. Whether I like it or not I have to be.”

Eve felt an ache in her chest. Her disappointment at the call from Alex earlier was nothing com
pared to this. A single tear against the flood she now felt welling inside her.

She turned away from him, not wanting him to see her. She
knew she was being an idiot but it hurt so fucking much. She sucked in a deep breath, the freezing air filling her lungs and chilling her blood. The cold air pricked her glistening eyeballs. She took another breath. This was stupid, she told herself. The last few hours had been incredible. Joel had taught her to feel like a woman again. To be herself rather than just her mother’s keeper. It was going to end but it didn’t have to yet.

She turned back to him and smiled. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s enjoy tonight then.”

“Good,” said Joel. “Because I haven’t got a bloody clue where this restaurant is.”

She laughed, “Charming!”

“And I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have dinner with tonight.”

“That’s better,” said Eve. “Don’t worry, it’s not far now.”

Joel reached over and took her hand.

“I wish it could be different,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say that.”

He frowned “Why?”

“There’s no point. It just is what it is. And sorry is such an easy word. We need a new word for it which people only use when they really mean it.”

He laughed and she felt him squeeze her hand. “You talk a lot of sense you know.”

“I know. It’s just no bugger ever listens.”

“I’m listening.”
“You’re listening for tonight.”

He stopped for a moment and then took her other hand as well. He held them both and looked at her. His voice softened, “Yes, for tonight. Just tonight.  But until it’s over I’m all yours.” He looked back down the road to the sea. Southend Pier was visible, a dark angular shape jutting out into the ocean like an accusing finger. “That’s east right?”

She smiled, “I don’t know why you’re asking but yes it is.”

He moved his eyes back to hers. Looked deep into them. “I’m yours until the sun comes up. Until it comes up over that ugly bloody pier.”

“That’s not a lot of time” she said. “So we’d better make the most of it.”

Their attention was so focussed on each other that even Joel didn’t register the car advancing on them. The driver slowed further as he reached the couple. The car rolled past them quietly, the engine just ticking over now. The passenger peered out of the window, his small eyes locked on the couple, examining them, taking in every detail he could. They looked to him like they were so rapt in each other that a fire engine could go past and they wouldn’t even notice. He couldn’t remember what that felt like.

Above the pair a street light shone down and the passenger was easily able to make out the woman’s features.

"Is that who I think it is?" he said to the driver. The surprise in his voice was so evident that the other man immediately looked as well.

"Jesus Christ,” he said. “Harry's going to go fucking mental."

Even as Joel threw the punch he knew that it wasn't going to have much effect. He swung anyway from pure instinct and rage. He'd punched that same face before and knew it could take a lot of abuse but he didn’t care.

Its owner was an ex-boxer, Reynolds. When he’d started boxing he’d fought as Right Hook Reynolds but it hadn’t stuck. In his second pro fight his opponent had taunted him when they were walking back to their corners after the third round. Reynolds had gone for the man, the referee stepping between them and breaking it up. Until that point in the fight Reynolds had been outclassed but when the bell rang for round four he came out of his corner a different man. The other man didn’t stand a chance, Reynolds hit him with a flurry of body shots before the echo of the bell had even died away. When the man staggered back Reynolds got him with a haymaker that lifted him off his feet and laid him out on the canvas. He earned himself a new name that night and it had stuck. Red Rag.

As his career progressed Reynolds used his anger to devastating effect, working his way through a swathe of more experienced opponents. The longer he fought the more it felt like his rage was controlling him rather than the other way around. Joel had seen him fight a couple of times when Reynolds was still allowed in the ring. He’d seen that focussed fury in action but he hadn’t seen the match which finished the boxer's career. The one which had ended with his opponent near dead. Joel knew people who had been there. They said that the final, most damaging punches had landed after the referee had called for the fight to be stopped. Reynolds had never faced charges for some reason, despite the fact that there must have been a fair few policemen in the audience that night. Probably, Joel reasoned, because Reynolds was too useful to too many powerful people. He made as much money for throwing punches out of the ring as he did in it. That was why he was here now.

Joel’s fist connected with that grinning face. It felt like he’d punched a brick wall. The only difference being that a wall wouldn’t have punched him back. His arm went numb up to his elbow but he didn’t have time to notice because Reynolds’s famous right hook had already slammed into his gut. Joel doubled over gasping. He felt like he’d been hit by a car, his internal organs rearranged slightly by the boxer’s fist. 

Reynolds laughed. “That’s no way to greet an old mate,” he said, his gravelly voice carrying down to Joel as he struggled to breathe. He pulled some air into his lungs at last and straightened, rubbing his tender abdomen. He looked the boxer in the eye. As he’d expected
Reynolds had barely noticed the punch. There was a slight reddening on his left cheek but that was all. Apart from that the big square head looked untouched. Joel was still glad he’d done it. If nothing else it had made him feel a bit better.

“Fuck this,” he said and turned away. “There is no way I’m working with you again.”

“I’m hurt, Joel,” called Reynolds after him. “All broken up inside.”

Joel walked back down the steps.

“Joel, wait,” shouted a voice from the house. Danny.

Joel turned in surprise. Danny never came to any of the pre-meets. Never. His involvement ended when he passed the details over to whoever he’d recruited. Until he picked up his cut of the proceeds at the end of course. The fact that he was here was even more surprising than the location for the meeting.

“What the hell are you doing here?” said Joel.

Danny pushed his way around Reynolds and trotted down the steps. The boxer stood there like he was enjoying the show. 

When Danny reached Joel he put an arm around his shoulders and led him up the street away from the house. Joel could smell his aftershave and the mint on his breath. Danny was always so well groomed that Joel felt shabby just looking at him.

“What the hell is going
on?” he said to the older man. “Why are you here? Why is HE here?”

Danny paused before speaking. “I’m gonna be straight with you,” he said. “I swear on my kids’ lives I didn’t know he was on the crew when I hooked you up for this. I’m here because he is. I wanted to explain to you
.” 

Joel frowned. “Why not tell me beforehand? Why make me come all the way out here.”

Danny was silent.

“It’s because you knew I wouldn’t come, isn’t it
?” The scar on Joel’s cheek was starting to burn. It did that when he was stressed. His hand went up to his face and his index finger traced the line of it from his cheekbone to his jawline.

Danny stopped walking and looked him straight in the eye. "I need you in this, Joel. This is big, much bigger than I thought it was. That's why Reynolds is here. It needs his muscle as well as your skills. You know no-one else is as good as him. Just like no-one else is as good as you."

“Don’t try and flatter me into this. It won’t work. I'm not working with that animal again. Not after last time."

Danny shook his head, “Look, Reynolds knows that if he pulls that shit again he’s history. He didn’t wor
k for months after that gig and if he screws up again no-one will give him another job, that’s been made very clear to him. He will never work in London again. This is his chance to redeem himself. Joel, I know why you feel the way you do, but we need him on this one so you need to give him a chance. Christ, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t necessary. It was a miracle you got out in one piece that day.”

“I know, I was there remember.”

“Look Reynolds has changed. He’s got that control back.” He drew Joel closer to him and lowered his voice. “Don’t fucking breath a word of this but he told me he was taking steroids back then. They messed up his mind and shrivelled his dick. He’s off them now, swear to God. Said his Mrs threatened to leave him cos he couldn’t get it up.”

Joel laughed and saw the other man smile at him. He knew that Danny thought he’d won him over. “I’m still not doing it,” he said and walked away.

“Fifty,” said Danny. “I’ll give it to you out of my own cut. I need this. Please, Joel.”

Joel could hear the emotion in his friend’s voice. The usual confidence and charm was gone. Danny sound raw. Desperate. Joel turned back and walked to him.

“Talk to me,” he said and then Danny laid it all out. The fact that he was in debt up to his eyeballs. That the bank wanted his house back and his wife had told him that if it went she would too, taking their daughters with her. Danny lived for his family, doted on his kids. Joel knew losing them would kill the man.

He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply. This felt wrong but he knew he had to do it.

“Okay,” he said. “I’m in.”