Unfortunately I can't talk about it on here, just in case 'they' have spies. All I can say is that its been a terrible week.
But it did spur me on to actually start writing something. Again its a short but at least its something. The story will be continued on the 'FICTION' page.
I can feel his breath on my neck before he speaks. This used to make me nervous but now I know he’s there, I am almost at ease.
I would go to the late night screenings every Thursday night, just because I preferred to see the movies in an empty theatre. No talking, no noises, no disruption, no people full stop. Maybe one or two people would wonder in either drunk or bored but otherwise I had the place to myself, just the way I liked it. But then he showed up, looking for me.
I don’t like conducting business when I’m trying to relax, trying to escape from the day. But he had insisted. It made sense, he said. No one would suspect anything, especially if this was my normal routine. Even after I protested, he kept showing up. I was annoyed at first, but I then I just got used to it and eventually gave in.
‘How’ve been?’ He whispers in my ear. ‘I ain’t seen you in a while, you been keep yourself busy?’ He sit down behind me. ‘Or you just been avoiding me.’
I don’t speak. I stare at the screen. I put my hand up and make a stop sign. I hear him sigh and lean back in his chair. He knows me. He was late so I got interested in the movie. He won’t have my attention for a few minutes.
He starts to complain. ‘Ah man, whats this damn movie even about? What the hell is that?’
On screen, a young is soaking wet as she burst through the doors of a barn. She has been running through the rain. She is obviously upset. She falls to floor and breaks down in tears. A figure moves in the shadows but the girl doesn’t notice until the figure has fully immerged. She looks up and gasps. She gets up quickly and stands so close to the now closed barn doors as if she would slip right through them. The figure is young man, dressed all in black. He speaks to her. She looks at him again and recognises him.
Satisfied I know what will follow this scene, I turn my head slightly to the right. ‘I’ve been right here Jack.’
I hear him move forward. ‘Right here huh, well how else have you been?’
‘I’ve been just fine. Been taking it easy.’ I look back at the screen.
The young woman is crying again but now she is in the arms of the man in black.
‘How have you been Jack?’
‘I’m sure you‘ve heard the rumours going round.’
I pause. ‘I have.’ He sighs again and moves in his seat, uncomfortable about my knowledge. ‘Does it matter?’ I say.
‘No. I guess it doesn’t matter, not anymore.’
‘But the rumours are true, aren’t they Jack.’
‘I thought so.’ I turn back to the screen. The previous scene has ended. The young man in black walks along a deserted road, alone. ‘Doesn’t bother me. You gotta do what you gotta do.’ It’s a cliché I know, what it’s true, he had to do it, he had no choice. I’ve had to make those choices before so I wasn’t going to judge him for it.
‘Not everyone agrees with you.’ I hear him move in his seat, leaning back. ‘I got some people telling me to step aside. Step aside from what? Others are saying I should just leave. But then I get told, don’t do it again, like its no big deal. I’m not big leagues. I just get a telling off because I’m just the messenger.’ He tuts to himself and sits quietly for a few moments.
On screen the young man in black, still on that deserted road, stops and turns to see a grey car driving towards him. It pulls up in front of him. He talks to the driver and passenger, they seem to know each other. The passenger hands him a case through the window, gives him a warning then the car drives away, leaving the young man in black alone, again.
‘Have you got a message for me then Mr Messenger?’ I ask. I can feel him get closer, his breath touching my ear. ‘Go to Gardenside Park, Sunday at 3pm. It’s the south corner door. That’s all.’
‘Anything else I need to know?’
‘You’re on your own for this one. It’s basically just a follow up.’
‘That’s it? I need more information.’
‘There were three guys but there is only one at this address. He refused to pay his debt, even after Luther and the other had a talk with him. He’s left handed.’
‘Left handed. Ok. I can sort this out.’
There is pause while he moves even closer to me, he is practically inside my ear. When exhales I feel the hairs on my neck tingle. It’s an odd and unwelcome feeling. He whispers to me. ‘Now can we talk?’
‘Sure Jack, we can talk.’
When Jack first insisted on having our meetings in the old cinema, I didn’t like it. I felt like he was invading my space.