Deadfolk by Charlie Williams Page B

even if I were awake at such an hour. And that were the way with most folks, it turned out. The place were empty besides Nathan.
    ‘All right, Blake,’ he says.
    ‘All right, Nathan.’
    ‘Early fer you.’
    ‘Aye.’
    ‘Usual, is it?’
    ‘Aye.’
    It were when I’d touched bottom of me second pint that he says: ‘Business?’
    ‘You what?’
    ‘You up and about at this hour. Business, is it?’
    ‘Oh, right. Well, matter of fact I does have a bit of business to sort out. Aye.’
    ‘This wouldn’t be to do with what we was talkin’ about, would it?’ He refilled my glass and plonked it back in front of us.
    I picked it up and necked half of it straight off. ‘And what might that be?’
    ‘Well…Muntons.’ He folded his hairy arms and squinted at us. ‘Baz in particlier.’
    ‘Don’t be barmy.’ I laughed and shook my head and swilled the rest of the lager down. While it were settling in me gut, I thought about what he’d asked and how I’d answered it. It were one thing keeping your designs to yourself. Specially if they involves violence. But what were the point of doing what I had planned unless folks knew about it? How would I get my reputation back if folks didn’t know I’d done what I were about to do?
    They wouldn’t, is how.
    Not unless someone told em. And I couldn’t hardly go round town bragging about it meself. That’d be asking for it. No, it had to start as a rumour, just like the rumours that had been besmirching my name of late. And who better to start a rumour than Nathan himself?
    ‘Matter of fact, Nathan, you ain’t too far from the truth there.’ I winked and raised my empty vessel.
    ‘Oh aye?’ He put his polishing rag down and looked us in the eye. ‘Well you just be careful. Times is hard and I can’t afford to lose custom. And thass why I’ll not be puttin’ another fill in here.’ He picked up my glass and put it behind him, next to the till. ‘Not until you comes back afterwards anyhow. All right?’
    It weren’t all right. I were thirsty and I needed to get me strength up. But I saw his point and liked the idea of it, saving my thirst for the victory toast and that.
    I got up. ‘Ta, Nathan.’
    ‘Bye, Blakey. He’ll be turnin’ up at the Bee Hive shortly, by the way. Thereafter at Munton Motors. On yer guard, eh?’
    ‘Oh aye. Ta.’

     
    Norbert Green, as well you knows, were and is the hairiest bit of Mangel. Some might say Muckfield has its moments and all. It had to be said—some hard fellers had come from out Muckfield way. But it were still safe to walk there for most folks, long as your face weren’t wrong.
    Norbert Green, on the other hand, were a different proposition. Folks went missing out that way all the time. Folks who weren’t from Norbert Green, that is. Even the coppers wouldn’t get involved if they could avoid it. Not that they had much call to stick their snouts in. Far as they was concerned, them what ventured there did so at them’s own risk. Norbert Green mostly policed herself. And if on occasion she didn’t, there was always the Muntons to step in and sort matters out.
    If Norbert Green were a boil on the devil’s back, right in the middle of it were a big yellow bag o’ pus known as the Bee Hive. I pulled in about thirty yard up the road from it. My watch said five past one. Either he were already in there or he’d be along any second. I had to think quick. I had to decide on where best to do it. I could go straight to Munton Motors and have it out with him on his home turf. Or I could surprise him on his way back from the pub, long as he weren’t driving.
    Get one of em alone, Legs had said. That’s all I had to do.
    All right, I thought. All right all right all right. So I’m here in Norbert fucking Green, waiting outside the fucking Bee Hive in me fucking backfiring Ford fucking Capri in broad bastard daylight. But it were all right.
    Get one of em alone .
    Never mind that any cunt walking past on his way to