This is the fourteenth part of a fiction serial, 765 in words. It may contain some swear-words.
Alan and Lugs have a chat.
When they had finished that first drink, Lugs produced a ten-pound note, to buy the next round. Alan put his hand over it. “Come for a walk around the block, so we can have a chat, Lugs”. On the busy main road, Alan felt happier about talking. “What’s the score with your Kenny? Is he still working? I might have something good for him”. The older man spoke without turning as they strolled along. “Yeah, he does a bit, Alan. Follows in his old man’s footsteps, you might say. He’s getting on now though, you forget. I’m seventy-six now, so that makes my Kenny almost fifty. What are you looking for?”
They stopped at the traffic lights, waiting for them to change so they could cross. “I need two plain vans. Probably white is best. There are so many white vans around, nobody notices them. They should be reliable, and have plates that will pass a road check. Then two other vans, for the swap later. They have to be kosher, and stand an actual stop-check. I would like Kenny as a driver, and someone he will speak for to drive the other one”.
Lugs took a cigarette Alan offered. “I don’t smoke so much these days, but I could do with one. I s’pose there will be shooters? My Kenny’s not much for guns, Al. He’s a car thief, a ringer”. Alan lit both cigarettes before answering. “He will have to carry one, in case he needs to show it. But my plan is for him and his oppo to stay in the vans, ready to drive. Maybe a bit of loading and unloading, top whack. I’m not saying how much for now, but there’s a lot of money involved. Reckon Kenny can buy a villa in the sun, and you and your Patsy can go and see your days out over there mate”.
They started walking again, arriving back in sight of the pub. Lugs stood finishing his cigarette. “Patsy’s in a home, Al. Dementia. She’s fucked, mate. Doesn’t even know who me and Kenny are”. Alan put his had on the old man’s shoulder. “Sorry to hear that, Lugs. But you will get a big enough bung to get Patsy into somewhere private, see her looked after properly”. Lugs threw the butt of the cigarette into the road. “Okay, I’ll talk to Kenny. You got a number so I can let you know a yes or no?” Alan blew out a cloud of smoke. “Nah. No phones, Lugs. Tell Kenny to come and find me at Gloria’s place. You know where she lives”.
Halfway home, a car pulled up next to him. The windows were tinted, but as one of the back ones slid down, he saw Frankie Toland in there. “I thought you would be back in Spain by now, Alan. What’s keeping you here? Not the wonderful architecture, or Gloria’s luxurious flat, I’m sure”. Alan leaned into the opening, smiling and acting casual. “I thought Gloria could come back with me, Frankie. Nothing to keep her here now mum’s dead. But she’s taking some persuading”. The look on Frankie’s face told him he didn’t believe a word.
“Well like I said, I can put some work your way if you need it. You know where to find me”. The window started to go back up, and the car drove off.
Stopping off at a shop to buy more cigarettes, Alan picked up a box of Lindor chocolate truffles for his sister. They were her favourite. As he put his key into the lock on the front door, it opened before he could turn it. Gloria looked scared as she whispered. “Frankie Toland’s here. I put him in the front room and gave him some of your Black Label”. Smiling to reassure her, he gave her the chocolates. “Stay in the kitchen, Glor. I’ll see what he wants”.
Alan was annoyed. Frankie shouldn’t involve his sister. He could have told him to get in the car if he wanted a serious talk. The fact he had driven straight to her flat was provocative, and a threat. He knew Toland would know he realised that. He opened the door to the front room, and strolled in, sounding cheery. “Frankie. Twice in twenty minutes, I am in demand. What is is now?” Pointing at an armchair, Frankie spoke with a very serious tone.
“Sit yourself down, and tell me what you and Lugs were talking about outside The Alwyne Castle”.