CHAPTER 23

A low, hanging, thin layer of smoke swirled around the pub as Dexter finished steak pie hoping that the filling was not the remains of beef stew. Sitting at the end of the bar in his usual spot he pushed his plate towards the barmaid as she looked his way. Finishing pulling a couple of pints for two flashily dressed men obviously setting up for a night out she picked up the plate and said, “Everything okay/” 

Dexter nodded, “Fine, thank you. It’s busy tonight.” 

“Always is at this time of the week,” she replied as she went through the swing doors. 

Friday, payday and the pubs filled up quickly in the early evening. Dexter glanced around the room. Small groups stood chatting. The few tables crowded with glasses. Ashtrays full. He looked down the length of the bar. Bill and another man pulling pints, talking, then laughing at some joke. The girls in their night out frocks waiting to be taken dancing, drinking something in a tall glass. Gin maybe with tonic or perhaps brandy and soda. That was a favourite. The man on the piano stool stubbed the first one of the many it would take to fill the ashtray before closing time. Lifting the keyboard cover, he pulled back his sleeves and dinked a couple of notes. That got heads turning so he smiled randomly across the room and started playing something light and easy. He would wind it up as the drinks started to really flow. Then the singing would start. 

Bill wandered his way. Leant in close like before, “Nothing,” he said, “I’ve asked those I can and no one knows your mate. Sorry.” 

“Not to worry,” said Dexter, “Thanks anyway. I’m off out soon. I’m having a trawl of the pubs to see if I can spot him. I know he likes a pint.” 

“Well, be careful. Like I said before, around here questions are not taken too kindly. Anyway, best of luck.” He looked round as someone shouted his name, “Coming,” he yelled back. “Got to go,” he said to Dexter. “Busy, busy,” he muttered and Dexter heard him say a fella's name and ask what he wanted. 

 

On your own you drink quickly. A few minutes later Dexter had finished his pint and was heading out of the door. He had a plan in mind. Knowing the location of the pubs he had worked out a crawling route. Thinking a drink in each and waiting around for maybe half an hour or so should be enough. Maybe he would stick to soft drinks or shandy to keep his head clear. If Tolly was going out tonight Dexter felt sure he would hang around a pub for more than one drink on a Friday night.  

The first two were rammed. By the time he got to the second people were almost bursting out of the door, He stood at the bar, ordered a drink and leant, with his back on the bar, glancing around the room. Same as his pub. The small groups. The girls. The smoke. Laughter. But no Tolly. A band was setting up in the corner. A three piece. Looking at their kit Dexter thought they would be loud, so he left. 

Up the hill in the direction of Clapham he was hoping the next place would be the one. Slightly out of the way it had a quieter look than the others. Had more of a seedy look about it though. Drab, dark and soulless. He was sure this was not the rough end of town but this pub had the look of a place for trouble. Clearly a drinking man’s place for sure. Fellas sat around chatting, smoking and fast drinking flat looking pints. Some with a whisky chaser. He did not like the look or feel one bit. 

Dexter was reluctant but ordered a coke and sat at the bar. He felt he had to give everywhere a go regardless of the type of pub. As he glanced around the place though he became convinced it was not the pub he would find Tolly Parkin. His gaze lingered a touch too long on a fella down the other end of the bar. Their eyes met. The man stared. Dexter averted his eyes knowing this was trouble. He had seen that type before. Out for a night’s drinking and if there was trouble all that did was provide some welcome entertainment. If none materialised it was simple, the man would make some himself. He nudged his mate and nodded towards Dexter. 

There was no doubt about it, Dexter had looked at the wrong person at the wrong time of the evening. Late enough for the fella to be full of alcoholic courage but not so late when he would be unable to do anything about it. Time to leave. Taking one last long sip Dexter stood and was out of the door. 

He heard the door bang behind him and turned. The two men had followed him out. Dexter sighed. He knew the score. He had been in this position so many times. Two half-drunk fellas intent on violence. The conversation was predictable. First the, ‘Who were you staring at,’ then the, ‘You were staring a bit serious, weren’t you?’ then the, ‘You lookin’ for trouble, or what?’ There was no way out. 

They stood side by side maybe six feet from him. The one whose eye he had caught slightly ahead of the other. Obviously the main instigator. Dexter ran his eyes up and down. Tall. Well built. Strong. Big arms. Confident. Had some training? Probably. Could pack a punch? Definitely. Quickly he glanced at the other. Not so big. Not so confident but had the same tough looking face that had seen the wrong end of a fist more times than it should have. 

The tall one would do the talking. No doubt about that. He would talk too much. Want to spit all the words swimming around his head out into the air to wind himself up. Maybe thought that would make his opponent scared. Definitely a mistake. The other one? No problem. Hangers on were what they were. Weak willed. Lose his prop and he would drift off. Dexter knew there was no get out clause when the talking began.  

He took a step slightly closing the gap. The man started to speak. Before he had got past the first ‘You’ Dexter quickly took another two steps. Closed the gap but hung back slightly. Saw the man’s lips forming the next word. Threw himself forward and slammed his fist hard into the man’s throat. He immediately choked on his own words. Grabbed his throat and slumped against the door. Dexter followed up with a solid blow to the stomach to make the man puke and a fist to break his nose so he would have something to remember bumping into Dexter Carmichael by. 

Dexter looked straight into the other man’s eyes. Said, “Too many words. If you’re going to fight, do it. Talking about it, don't get it done. Now, he’ll be all right but it’ll take a while and he’ll croak for a few days. Take him home… Unless, of course, you’ve got something to say.” Dexter took a step towards the man just to underline the point. 

He looked at Dexter who was standing to his full height fists clenched but hanging at his side. Dexter could almost hear the thought patterns going through the fella's head. Not so many though because he quickly said, “Nothing.” Grabbed his mate and they staggered off up the hill. Dexter smiled at the sounds of coughing that drifted down after them.  

The doors opened and the landlord stood silhouetted by the light, “That was neatly done,” he said, “I thought you were in for some trouble. Those two are notorious.” 

“Thanks for the help,” said Dexter looking at the guy with his belly hanging over a loose-fitting belt on baggy trousers. Before the man could say any more Dexter turned and was heading back down the hill thinking, That Bill was so right. People around here are not too friendly. That’s it for tonight. I’m back to see Bill, have a nightcap and regroup for tomorrow. Maybe my luck will change. 

 

Tolly had arrived back around two on Friday. Plenty of time for a wash and change before dinner. He knew how much just a simple thing like dinner meant to Mavis on this particular day and he wanted to look his best. A special dinner she had said. He knew what that meant. She had told him every year on the twenty-seventh. The twenty-seventh of May and this year that happened to be a Friday. Did he find it a bit creepy? Not at all if Mavis wanted to celebrate Alfie’s birthday he would do his best to make it a great day. 

At six there was a shout and Tolly skipped down the stairs carrying a bottle into the kitchen. “We’re in the dining room,” came the shout. 

“This is a bit flash, isn’t it, Mavis?” said Tolly, putting the bottle on the table. 

“Special night, special dinner we’ve got to be in the dining room.” Mavis laughed her little titter. The one she did every time she was getting a bit excited. 

“You look nice. I like the dress that blue suits you.” Tolly smiled. 

“Went up town first thing to the proper store where they sell all the best frocks… Thanks Tolly. It makes me feel special. It’s only fitting, isn’t it?” 

She disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a bowl of potatoes and peas, “Put some of them on the plates and I’ll only be a mo,” and she was gone again. 

Tolly chose a couple of glasses from a tall cabinet. The sort where your grandmother kept all her best stuff. Pulled the cork from the bottle and filled the glasses. Sat and glanced around the room. He had not eaten in the dining room before. The table only just fitted with four chairs almost pushed against the wall. It was long enough though for the cabinet to sit at one end. Next to the door to the kitchen a narrow, bright window looked out over the back yard and all Mavis’s brightly coloured flowers. 

A sizzling came from the kitchen with the smell of onions. A pan rattled on the stove and Tolly heard something being poured. A clattering into the sink and the door swung open with Mavis making as grand an entrance as the space allowed. 

“Steak,” she announced. “From the proper butcher. The real tender sort. And onions.” 

“Now, that’s a treat for sure. You know what a man likes, don’t you, Mavis? Look, I’ve poured you a sherry. Pale dry.” 

“This is grand, Tolly, isn’t it.” and she picked up her glass. “To better times,” she said. 

“To better times,” Tolly repeated. 

“Gravy?” said Mavis. Then silence until the first few mouthfuls had been savoured. “Apple pie after. I made it at lunchtime so it’s nice and fresh.” 

“Perfect and thanks, Mavis… What have you got planned for tomorrow?” 

“Oh, the usual. Nip down the shop and have a natter. You know, it’s better than the local rag. Then back to do some cleaning. What about you?” 

“Saturday. I’m off to get me a new suit. Something snappy. Like you I’m taking a trip up town. I’ll pop into the pub on the way back. Only a couple though so don’t worry. At five we’re going to the flicks.” 

“Yes, Jimmy Stewart. I’m really looking forward to that.”