A Real Job by David Lowe Page A

cutlery, there was nothing to hand he could use to any effect to protect his family. As he continued to watch him, Hurst decided if O’Byrne made a move towards the door of the cafe he would get up and rush the Irishman. Knowing it was potentially fatal to himself, he thought it was the only effective way of preventing O’Byrne getting in a shot towards the three women. His mind working frantically, he saw O’Byrne’s calm demeanour suddenly became animated. Clearly, he was angry at something the young stallholder said to him. As he watched the two men argue, he felt his mother nudge him in the ribs, ‘David, Siobhan’s talking to you.’
    ‘Sorry Siobhan what’s that?’ David said keeping his eyes fixed on O’Byrne.
    ‘I said how, oh I give up. Obviously our small talk’s boring you.’
    ‘Not at all,’ David replied, ‘it’s just I’m sure I’ve seen an old school mate out there I haven’t seen for years. Come on Debbie I’ll introduce you to him.’
    ‘But your breakfast will be here in a minute,’ Mary said as David got out of his seat.
    ‘Don’t worry Mum, we’ll be back by the time its ready,’ David said as Debbie stood up to join him
    By the time they walked out of the café, O’Byrne had moved away from the stall and was walking off through the market towards Liverpool city centre.
    ‘Who’s this friend of yours,’ Debbie asked.
    ‘It’s Rory O’Byrne. Now don’t tell me they’re not calling in the death threat. He was talking to the stall holder outside the cafe. This is not a coincidence,’ David said taking hold of Debbie’s arm, ‘he’s walking off this way. Ring up for some back up just in case and follow me.’ Debbie looked up but only having seen old criminal records photographs of him she struggled to see him. Noticing Debbie was struggling to identify O’Byrne, David said, ‘He’s the dark haired bloke walking past the blag DVD stall by the bakery shop, wearing a light blue shirt and jeans.’
    ‘I see him,’ Debbie said taking her mobile phone from out of her jeans pocket, ‘you go, I’ll follow a few paces behind you.’
    Having to weave through the large number of shoppers, some pushing prams as if they were battering rams, the Irishman’s progress was slow. Both were careful not to get too close knowing if O’Byrne looked behind him it was likely he would recognise David. While following him the Special Branch officer was constantly thinking. If O’Byrne was after him, why was he walking out of the market? The shouts of the market stall holders drumming up custom became a blurred background noise as all of Hurst’s senses were focused on his old adversary. A thought crossed his mind causing the hairs on his body to stand up. O’Byrne could have been with accomplices he did not know of and pointed Hurst out to them so they could walk up behind him and make the hit. Instinctively he turned round to see if anyone was following him and Debbie. Looking behind him, he saw Debbie talking on her phone when he felt a sharp pain in his right shin.
    ‘Watch where you’re going,’ a woman pushing a pram said angrily as Hurst reached down to rub his leg.
    ‘Sorry love, it’s my fault,’ he said not wanting the incident to escalate into a row that would bring attention to others nearby. As David looked up, O’Byrne had stopped walking and began to look behind him. Quickly moving to the side into an aisle of stalls, David stopped by a pet food stall as Debbie walked past him. She did not look at him as she stopped by the row of stalls that was selling women’s casual wear. Both were watching O’Byrne without bringing attention to themselves when Debbie called David on her mobile phone.
    ‘Can I help you mate?’ the pet stall owner asked David.
    ‘No it’s alright, I’m just looking,’ David said keeping his gaze focused on O’Byrne while answering Debbie’s call.
    ‘I’ve contacted a couple of my colleagues I know who are on an operation close by in