the south. So I’m still looking.”
“What were you doing then; you know - before?” Steve Beecham asked.
Harry repeated the story he had given to Andrew previously.
“Well, I was in a reserved occupation, engineering, but after being bombed out and injured I was released from duties for a while pending recovery. I’m well on the mend now so I may be called back for a medical in a month or so.”
Beecham leaned forward to get nearer to Harry,
“And before that, what did you do?”
“I also did some bouncing, you know clubs, places like this. Years before that I worked on various building sites as a labourer. Recently I just got a bit bored staying in London so, when I felt well enough, I thought I’d come up north for a while to fully recuperate. I haven’t been up this way for many a year.”
Dermot responded, his voice now wheezing again,
“Well, you never know, we might be able to assist you in the interim.”
“Sorry -” Harry said, turning towards Beecham, “– I’ve only introduced myself so far, and you are?”
Dermot’s two assistants introduced themselves to Harry. Tommy Bunn was a tall thin man with short, fine, grey hair. He had high cheekbones that made his stretched facial skin appear slightly sunken. His eyes were large, rounded and strikingly blue. He smiled readily and offered his hand immediately in friendship with a firm grip and thumb pressure applied between Harry’s knuckles. Harry also noticed one other curiosity. When Tommy spoke directly to someone he closed his eyes and moved his head as though he was reading the words projected onto his lids.
Harry turned to face the other man. Steve Beecham was also tall but strongly built. His face was rounded but his eyes appeared almost black, hooded and almond - shaped. He sported a thin black moustache on the lower edge of his top lip.
‘This guy’s fit,’ Harry thought.
His demeanour was more confrontational, somehow intimidating. He was late in offering his hand to shake and when he did, his grip was overly tight, his face gave no hint of any genuine friendship likely to develop. As he withdrew his hand, Steve gave a brief thin smile as he stared directly into Harry’s eyes. The remaining guests at the table continued drinking.
‘These are the hangers-on,’ Harry decided.
Tommy turned to face Harry,
“Have you any sporting interests?”
“I like most sports; I used to play rugby a lot, and a bit of boxing now and again.” Harry stopped as the barman came across.
“Mr Cassidy, your cars are here.”
“Time to go fellas.”
Dermot struggled to his feet and shook hands with Harry; the other two men quickly downed their drinks and stood up. Dermot led the way and they followed him out. The rest of the party also downed their drinks hoping that they might be asked to accompany them; but they were to be disappointed.
Harry was walking to the bar when Tommy came back into the lounge.
“Harry, Mr Cassidy has asked if you would like to accompany him.”
Harry decided to go; there might be a living to be made. He was more curious now than before. Andrew’s proposed introduction had been circumvented. Harry asked the barman to contact Eileen and explain where he was.
As the two men walked towards the reception area they became aware of an argument developing. Three drunken men in their late thirties were demanding to be let into the bar. One of them recognised Dermot.
“That’s the other bastard!”
Dermot tried to push his way to the waiting car but was stopped by one of the men,
“You, you fucking pig. You’re the one that threw us out of our house!”
The man took a wild swing but was pushed aside by Tommy and Steve. The other two drunks started to push forward to get at Dermot. Harry instinctively punched the first one hard on the nose, which caused him to fall to the floor moaning.
“Get out Dermot!” Harry shouted as he turned to confront the third assailant. Tommy and Steve ushered Dermot outside. A
“What were you doing then; you know - before?” Steve Beecham asked.
Harry repeated the story he had given to Andrew previously.
“Well, I was in a reserved occupation, engineering, but after being bombed out and injured I was released from duties for a while pending recovery. I’m well on the mend now so I may be called back for a medical in a month or so.”
Beecham leaned forward to get nearer to Harry,
“And before that, what did you do?”
“I also did some bouncing, you know clubs, places like this. Years before that I worked on various building sites as a labourer. Recently I just got a bit bored staying in London so, when I felt well enough, I thought I’d come up north for a while to fully recuperate. I haven’t been up this way for many a year.”
Dermot responded, his voice now wheezing again,
“Well, you never know, we might be able to assist you in the interim.”
“Sorry -” Harry said, turning towards Beecham, “– I’ve only introduced myself so far, and you are?”
Dermot’s two assistants introduced themselves to Harry. Tommy Bunn was a tall thin man with short, fine, grey hair. He had high cheekbones that made his stretched facial skin appear slightly sunken. His eyes were large, rounded and strikingly blue. He smiled readily and offered his hand immediately in friendship with a firm grip and thumb pressure applied between Harry’s knuckles. Harry also noticed one other curiosity. When Tommy spoke directly to someone he closed his eyes and moved his head as though he was reading the words projected onto his lids.
Harry turned to face the other man. Steve Beecham was also tall but strongly built. His face was rounded but his eyes appeared almost black, hooded and almond - shaped. He sported a thin black moustache on the lower edge of his top lip.
‘This guy’s fit,’ Harry thought.
His demeanour was more confrontational, somehow intimidating. He was late in offering his hand to shake and when he did, his grip was overly tight, his face gave no hint of any genuine friendship likely to develop. As he withdrew his hand, Steve gave a brief thin smile as he stared directly into Harry’s eyes. The remaining guests at the table continued drinking.
‘These are the hangers-on,’ Harry decided.
Tommy turned to face Harry,
“Have you any sporting interests?”
“I like most sports; I used to play rugby a lot, and a bit of boxing now and again.” Harry stopped as the barman came across.
“Mr Cassidy, your cars are here.”
“Time to go fellas.”
Dermot struggled to his feet and shook hands with Harry; the other two men quickly downed their drinks and stood up. Dermot led the way and they followed him out. The rest of the party also downed their drinks hoping that they might be asked to accompany them; but they were to be disappointed.
Harry was walking to the bar when Tommy came back into the lounge.
“Harry, Mr Cassidy has asked if you would like to accompany him.”
Harry decided to go; there might be a living to be made. He was more curious now than before. Andrew’s proposed introduction had been circumvented. Harry asked the barman to contact Eileen and explain where he was.
As the two men walked towards the reception area they became aware of an argument developing. Three drunken men in their late thirties were demanding to be let into the bar. One of them recognised Dermot.
“That’s the other bastard!”
Dermot tried to push his way to the waiting car but was stopped by one of the men,
“You, you fucking pig. You’re the one that threw us out of our house!”
The man took a wild swing but was pushed aside by Tommy and Steve. The other two drunks started to push forward to get at Dermot. Harry instinctively punched the first one hard on the nose, which caused him to fall to the floor moaning.
“Get out Dermot!” Harry shouted as he turned to confront the third assailant. Tommy and Steve ushered Dermot outside. A
Similar Books
