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Category:
Action/Thriller
Grooming continues
2
Nicknames
Freddy’s bedroom was almost stark. The walls were white and clean. His bed had a conservative grey and blue diagonal stripe and matching pillow. His bedside desk offered the only other insight into his life for he had harmonicas in every key laid out in size-ranking on the wooden surface. A record blaster’s lead was inserted into the wall socket and a stack of CDs towered up past the end of the mainly orange curtains. Freddy spent hours playing his harmonicas. He played classical, folk, traditional and marching tunes. He played by ear and he was attuned to any song which BBC Radio 2, 3 and Classic FM had to offer.
Freddy was not an only child. His older sister Becky was a NHS consultant dermatologist in Manchester and his brother, Alec, was professor of Chemical Engineering at Bristol University. The Dunnings met at the family home at the usual seasonal events of each year and Becky was a more frequent visitor calling round to see her mother and lavished love on her brother Freddy. They were very close.
On Saturday after lunch Freddy set off to the match. He walked down Spencer Road spotting a few blue and white scarves around necks of fellow supporters. They mirrored the white cirro-cumulus clouds against the light cobalt blue sky that afternoon. He was on the right road. Twenty minutes later he saw the bridge where he would be meeting Donkey and Bones. Donkey and Bones, Donkey and Bones, he was sure to remember their names.
There were a few people walking over the bridge but he did not see anyone waiting as he had expected. He made his way to the centre of the bridge and stopped. Not at the side to let supporters past but like a stone in a river, he stood against the human flow. His posture attracted resultant comments.
‘This way to the match mate,’ said one supporter pointing to the stadium.
‘Turn round and go with the flow,’ said another laughing blue and white capped youth.
Some comments had swearing adjectives while some of the looks showed pity but Freddy’s eyes scanned the faces to find his two new friends, not those of the strangers. He looked at his watch. It was now 2:45p.m. He looked at the stadium. He looked at his ticket and his heart began to race. His choices were stark. Make for the stadium and find his seat. His friends would soon join him. But they might be angry at him for not waiting. He could wait for them and miss part of the match. Decisions were not Freddy’s strength. In fact they made his anxiety rise.
The stream of supporters dwindled. The voices from the stadium grew louder. Freddy continued to look straight ahead but there was no sight of his friends. He never looked behind himself; his vision to the fore was piercing, like a needle through a button. So it was almost a shock when his shoulder was struck from behind by a thumping hand. He turned round and smiled.
‘Hi Freddy. This is Bones.’
Freddy nodded. ‘Hello Bones. I like your nickname.’
Bones was a quieter man. He smiled gingerly then realising Donkey was right about his friend acting gullible, his smile enlarged creasing his eyes in the process.
‘Okay let’s get to the match,’ he said.
At half-time Freddy opened his knapsack and produced a foil full of sandwiches. Egg and chives; tuna and cucumber and ham and mustard. Donkey grabbed a couple of ham sandwiches and Bones took both tuna leaving the egg and chives for Freddy. He wondered if that was his mother’s intention – his was to share the sandwiches. Three chocolate digestives were consumed but only Freddy ate the fruit. As he gathered the grapes in his hand he offered them to his friends.
‘Grapes are for monkeys,’ said Donkey and Bones agreed. Freddy wondered if that was a joke as he popped them in his mouth. Then the players took to the pitch again. The half-time score? 1-1 Or to be precise a most unusual statistic, as the goals were both own goals by disorientated full-backs.
Forty five minutes later the game came to a close. The second half had been a more exciting confrontation with a red card for the Blackburn centre forward causing many visiting spectators to rise off their seats. After a penalty and a lobbed goal, Wigan won 3-1. At the final whistle there were shouts of satisfaction from Donkey and Bones as well as all the Wigan fans. Freddy did not cheer or smile. He couldn’t see the point. The game was over.
The trio left the stadium and made for The Tuning Fork cafe in the Wallgate. They entered and sat at the rear of the shop.
‘What do you want Freddy?’
‘I want a coke.’
‘I’ll have a coffee and bacon roll,’ said Donkey and Bones nodded to confirm he’d have the same. The waitress came and took their orders and as she turned to go, Donkey looked at Freddy.
‘You got enough to pay for this?’
‘Yes, I’ve got my wallet. I can pay.’
Donkey turned to Bones and winked. Bones gave a gentle but devious lip curving smile.
‘Did I tell you Bones is an accountant?’
‘An accountant? No, you did not tell me. You mean a banker?’ asked Freddy turning to look piercingly at Bones.
‘I’m not a banker. I am a city banker. Not a street banker. I deal in gilts and foreign currencies; those sorts of things you see.’
‘I see. Do you work in London?’
‘London? No we save a lot of money not working in London. I work from home, by computer. No rented offices involved.’
A nod of agreement could have sufficed but it never arrived. ‘I don’t work, I look after Mum.’
Bones drew his chair nearer and lowered his voice.
‘Wouldn’t it be good if you could have some good money to make life comfortable? You know, after your mother is no longer there. Yeah?’
‘I’ve got quite a lot to look after my mum.’
Bones eyes looked up at Donkey and he nodded his approval. It was the queue to go for the jugular.
‘You see Freddy,’ said Bones lowering his voice to a sinister whisper, ‘I can make £500 into £550 in six months by playing the market.’ He sat back with a broad smile for a brief moment. Then he bent forward again and in a normal voice told him, ‘all legally of course.’
The waitress returned with a tray and deposited its contents before them. Donkey and Bones remained quiet while Freddy digested the figures he had just heard.
‘That’s a lot of money to make in a short time.’
Bones nodded and hoped Freddy would hold back any further comment as the waitress deposited the bill on a saucer and returned to the counter.
‘Just think what interest the bank gives. I can beat that any day,’ resumed Bones when the coast was clear.
‘How,’ asked Freddy.
‘I speculate on the market. I never make a mistake, sure I don’t, Donkey?’
‘He’s made me a wealthy man. I gave him £2,000 and it got me £3,500 in a year. Easy money. And if you are not working Freddy, then this is your lucky day. Isn’t it?’
‘Yes, my lucky day,’ he replied without a hint of pleasure or full comprehension.
‘So listen Freddy, you give me..... let’s say £500 and in six months you get it back with a big bonus. Now that makes sense doesn’t it?’
Freddy nodded. ‘So I send you a cheque in the post. You give me your address and I’ll send the cheque in the post.’
Donkey held on to Freddy’s hand as it reached for his cup. He lowered his voice once more. ‘Cheques are not so good. They can get lost in the post. Take longer to make money. Cash is best.’
He let go of Freddy’s hand. Freddy took a sip then replaced his cup on the saucer. ‘Cash is best, yes isn’t it?’
Bones took the bill-bearing saucer and slid it towards Freddy’s plate. ‘Yup I always deal in cash. Ready cash talks, Freddy. Ready cash brings in the profits you understand?’
Freddy nodded to please his accountant friend.
‘So Freddy, let’s do it. You bring me £500 and let’s make it make money,’ said Bones whose nod was in time with Donkey’s encouraging cranial gesture.
‘Where will I bring the money?’
‘What about the top of Spencer Road by the letter box 9.30 on Monday night. That will give you time to get the money.’
‘You could come to my house. My Mum would like to meet you I am sure,’ suggested a contended Freddy.
‘Listen Freddy, you are a mature man. You don’t want your mother to know what you are doing with your own money. This is your money we’re talking about not hers. Keep it a secret. Then when we’ve made you your first million, you can tell her. How does that sound?’
Freddy could not imagine a million pounds but ...hang on....didn’t he say the first million?
‘Top of Spencer road 9.30 p.m.’ he said nodding and shaking his hands at the same time.
They parted outside the cafe and made their separate ways home. Freddy related the game as he remembered it to his mother and she showed polite interest. When he mentioned his friend’s business his mother was impressed.
‘And your other new friend’s an accountant? That’s wonderful. I hope you will stay pals for a very long time,’ she said as her face creased in a contented smile.
‘Yes Mum, I will.’
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