Road Kill

Eighteen

The last forty-five minutes of the trip was at a much slower pace than the rest of the crossing. As we reached the entrance to Belfast Lough the captain throttled back to barely ten knots and ambled towards the city port.

“When they first started running the fast cat service they used to come steaming up the Lough at full chat,” William explained when Daz asked him why, “until they discovered that the wake was actually washing dog walkers off the coastal path. Now they have to slow it down a bit.”

Just before we docked, Paxo dug in his backpack and distributed a set of walkie-talkies with headsets and microphones that velcro’d in to the lining of our helmets.

“They’ll work up to about a mile apart,” he said, “and the mic’s voice activated, so don’t sing while you’re riding along or we’ll all have to suffer it.” He gave Sean a look of insincere apology that there weren’t enough to go round. “Sorry mate – didn’t know you were coming.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Sean said easily. “I’m sure I’ll manage to keep up and, anyway, I know where you’re going.”

That comment netted him some sharp glances, not least from me, but he forestalled any further questions by picking up his gear and following the announcement for all vehicle drivers to return to the car decks.

Thanks in part to William’s influence, we were among the first allowed off the ferry when it docked.

The Super Blackbird Sean had borrowed turned out to be a beautiful example in sparkling silver. Irritatingly, despite the fact he hadn’t ridden for more than three years and it wasn’t even his bike, he looked very much at home in the saddle.

We swept out of the port in convoy. Daz was in front on the Aprilia with Tess riding pillion and, in my humble opinion, wrapping herself round his back more closely than his smooth riding style strictly required. Nobody said anything about a running order but Sean naturally fell in at the rear. Maybe he just wanted to be where he could keep an eye on the rest of us.

The docks area was industrial and scruffy the way docks are the world over. On the other side of the water from the fast cat terminal the landscape was overshadowed by the huge cranes from the Harland and Wolfe shipyard.

There wasn’t time to do more than grab a basic impression of the city itself as we shot through it. I was too busy trying to make sure I didn’t get separated at lights or cut up by other traffic. The bit of it I saw was just a city like any other. Part worn-down, part ultra modern as regeneration snuck in where opportunity let it get a skip outside the door.

Daz led the way confidently onto the M2 motorway that swung round the top end of Belfast, heading west for Londonderry. Then he veered east, taking the exit for Larne. As we bunched up at the roundabout at the bottom of the slip road, Sean came up alongside me and thumbed his visor open a crack.

“Tell them to pull over at the next available point,” he ordered, just loud enough to be heard over the bike engines. “We’ve got company.”

I resisted the urge to look behind me, giving him a short nod as I repeated his instruction over my radio. There was a long pause, during which time Daz and Jamie had already merged out into traffic. William launched, then Paxo, leaving just me and Sean waiting for our chance. Damn! Getting split up like this when we might be coming under threat was asking for trouble. My finger ends had begun to tingle with tension.

Then came a burst of static and wind noise before Daz’s voice sounded casual and almost relaxed in my ear. “What’s up, Charlie – you getting left behind already?”

“Not especially,” I snapped. “But Sean reckons we might have a problem.”

“What do you think?”

I tried to avoid grinding my teeth. “I think we should pull over at the next available point.”

“OK, keep heading for Larne and I’ll come off and wait for you at the next roundabout.”

The next roundabout was reached along a short section of dual carriageway leading up a long hill. Sean and I opened the bikes up and romped away up the incline, leaving the slower moving cars and a couple of trucks floundering behind us.

By the time we crested the brow there was no sign of the others and I felt my heartrate step up a little, squirting adrenaline into my system on a just-in-case basis. We dropped down towards the roundabout Daz had mentioned, braking hard. I checked my mirrors but could see nothing suspicious.

“We see you, Charlie,” I heard William’s voice say. “Take the first exit. Hotel car park on your right.”

Sean had moved up to my outside quarter, covering my back. I jerked my head to him to indicate that he should follow me, and peeled off left. He stuck with me all the way like a shadow.

We found the others grouped together near the hotel entrance, visors open, apparently unconcerned.

“What’s the problem, Sean?” Daz wanted to know as soon as we joined them.

Sean didn’t answer right away. His head was turned to scan the fast main road running alongside the hotel. A dark grey Vauxhall Vectra shot onto the roundabout and carried straight on towards Larne. There were four men inside who made a big show of not looking at us as they belted past. Sean watched it go by with slightly narrowed eyes.

“That Vectra,” he said, nodding in the direction the car had taken. “It picked us up outside the ferry terminal and he’s been with us ever since.”

“Oh come off it,” Paxo argued. “We’ve barely gone five miles and you’re already seeing ghosts behind every rock! It’s just a Vauxhall, for God’s sake.”

“On tweaked up suspension but standard wheels, with twin aerials on the back and no dealer stickers, four up,” Sean said, shaking his head. “I don’t think so.”

Daz frowned. “So who do you think they were?” he asked.

Sean shrugged. “Security services, cops, maybe even the paramilitaries,” he said softly. “I was rather hoping you might be able to tell me that.”

“There’s no reason for any of that lot to be after us,” William said, his voice even and apparently guileless. “Why would there be?” But he glanced at Daz as he spoke, as if looking for confirmation that the other man hadn’t told Sean anything during their little heart-to-heart.

“Really?” Sean said. “Well, in that case, it must be me.”

At first I thought he was joking but, when he didn’t smile, I realised he meant it.

“I think it might be best if I went my own way today,” he said when nobody spoke. “I’ll meet up with you at the hotel tonight.” With that he nodded, shut his visor, and toed the Blackbird into gear.

“Sean! Hold up a minute!”

He’d already begun to move off when he caught my shout and stopped again, putting his feet down. I nudged the side-stand down on the ‘Blade and climbed off to go and talk to him. It was easier than having to paddle the bike round. I yanked my helmet off as I reached him and he did the same. Only difference was that I’d forgotten about the radio wire that I’d threaded down the neck of my leathers and damn-near strangled myself until I unplugged it.

“What the hell’s going on?” I demanded quietly.

Sean eyed the rest of the group, who were watching us with undisguised curiosity. He flicked his eyes back to me. “I haven’t been back to Northern Ireland since I came out,” he said flatly. “I operated here, Charlie, and trust me when I say I did some serious damage. It’s been a while, but some people have long memories. That Vectra might be following this lot, or it might be following me. Better to find out for sure, don’t you think?”

“But how did they know you were coming?”

He shrugged again. “It’s not difficult to find out,” he said. “The ticket was booked in my name and that might have raised a few flags. It was only done yesterday, which might explain why they’ve been so clumsy about the tail – short notice.”

I thought about that for a moment. I didn’t like it, but I could see the sense. “OK,” I said, stepping back. “I’ll keep my eye on them. You take care, Sean.”

“Yeah,” he said with a grim smile, “you too.”

***

After Sean had gone, heading back towards Belfast, I took station at the back and spent as much time watching my mirrors as the road ahead of me. That turned out to be easier said than done.

Daz set up a furious pace, taking no prisoners as far as making sure the group stayed together was concerned. He sliced past slower-moving traffic on his side of the road with blatant disregard for what might be coming the other way. This time, Tess’s intimate grip seemed a lot more necessary. She was wrapped round his back with her head tucked in like she couldn’t bear to watch.

Paxo matched him, one wild move after another, hunched over the tank of his Ducati, sliding across the seat to just about put his knee down on every roundabout.

William was less inclined to suicide and, I noted with relief, Jamie seemed content to follow him rather than try and keep pace with the lead pair. One less thing for me to worry about.

We dropped down into Larne, leapfrogging a line of trucks all bound for the freight boats to Cairnryan and Stranraer. Daz headed off up the A2 coast road, and then I had the scenery to watch as well.

I hadn’t expected the Antrim coast to be quite so spectacular but in places it took your breath away. The road ran right along the edge of the Irish Sea and at one point it had actually been cut through the rock which rose over the top of our heads like a rugged gothic archway.

Eventually, Daz broke his silent concentration long enough to report, “OK, lads, this is it,” and we pulled over into the gravel car park of a sprawling stone-built hotel overlooking a small bay. I couldn’t help but be relieved that we’d all survived the first part of our journey intact and, despite Sean’s concerns, unmolested.

We slotted the bikes in alongside each other and cut the engines. After the combined edgy roar of our exhaust notes, the gentle grumble of the surf rolling up onto the shingle was like a kind of furry silence.

“Nice choice,” William said approvingly, looking first at the deserted beach and then at the hotel entrance. He didn’t seem at all ruffled after the energetic ride, his broad face carrying its usual impassive mask of calm.

On the other hand, when Paxo thrust off his helmet he was panting like he’d been starved of oxygen in there. His narrow face was sliding with sweat and even his mini mohican had wilted. He glared at Daz.

“Mate, what is wrong with you?” he demanded. “You got a fuckin’ death-wish all of a sudden?”

Daz turned on him with a grin that had overtones of manic about it. “What’s up, Pax?” he shot back, close to jeering. “Never thought I’d see the day when you couldn’t keep up with me when you’re solo and I’m carrying ballast.” He ignored – or was too hyped up to see – the scathing glance Tess fired off in his direction. “You losing your nerve or what?”

Paxo moved in close, bristling, the way I’d seen him do with Jamie that day outside the hospital.

“My nerve’s good, mate,” he gritted. “Can you say the same?”

“Cool it, you two,” William said. “Not in front of the children, eh?”

It was drawlingly delivered and contrived to insult both Jamie and myself in equal measure. Jamie pretended to be too caught up in unhooking his tank bag from the Honda to have heard the comment. I had no such qualms.

“I agree with Paxo,” I said calmly. “You’re riding like an idiot. There’s a thin line between brave and stupid and you’re way over the other side of it. What are you trying to prove, Daz? If I’d known this trip was going to be about macho bullshit, I wouldn’t have bothered.”

Instead of snapping back at me, Daz’s grin just grew all the wider. “If you can’t stand the heat, Charlie . . .” he said and with that he picked up his gear and sauntered across the road towards the hotel entrance.

“Speakin’ of macho bullshit,” Tess said suddenly when he’d gone, “what happened to this tail we was supposed to have picked up?”

The others turned to look at me, challenge in their faces as they diverted their anger from one of their own to a comparative outsider.

“No one followed us after we left that car park,” I admitted reluctantly.

“So lover boy was imaginin’ things back there?” Tess persisted.

“I didn’t say that.”

“What, then?”

“I don’t know.”

But I did. Her words brought the whole thing into focus. I was completely convinced that, if Sean reckoned the Vectra had been following us, then it had. He was way too experienced and too canny to have mistaken a coincidence for a deliberate action. But either they weren’t with us now, or they’d suddenly got a whole hell of a lot better at not being spotted.

Or, worst of all, Sean had been right and the tail hadn’t been following the rest of us.

It had been following him.

***

The rooms at the hotel were large and mine had two double beds in it as well as a pullout sofa, which made me wonder about who it was really designed for. I’d half-expected that I’d be sharing with Tess, but she either had her own room or had decided on other sleeping arrangements. I didn’t ask which.

As soon as I got into my room I called Jacob. My mobile didn’t seem to be able to pick up a signal, which I wasn’t sure was down to just being in a dodgy cell area, or whether it wouldn’t work in Ireland at all. I made a mental note to ask.

I used the hotel phone instead, aware that they were probably charging me through the nose for the privilege. I caught Jacob at home and gave him a brief run-down of the trip so far. He gave me the latest news on Sam’s condition, which was remarkably good, all things considered. I asked how Clare was. Her temperature was up, he told me. My father was concerned about possible infection.

“I know I’m probably biased, but she’s in very good hands,” I said.

“I know that, too,” he said, still sounding anxious. “But even so . . .”

***

I showered and changed and met the others downstairs afterwards in the bar. By the time I arrived, everyone was there apart from Tess. I assumed she was still primping. They stopped talking when I appeared, which I tried not to let annoy me.

The boys had made an effort, wearing shirts or T-shirts with designer logos on the breast and, appropriately enough, a range of Nike pub shoes. Even Paxo’s hairstyle was looking spruce again.

Instinctively, I’d dressed to blend in, putting on the one pair of jeans I’d brought with me plus a rugby shirt. There was still enough residual heat left in the day to make it a bit too warm for long sleeves and a high collar, but at least they hid the new bruises on my arms and the old scars around my neck.

Eighteen months previously I’d been unlucky enough to get my throat half cut and I now had a long ragged scar round the base of my neck that was my constant reminder of the incident. It was fading all the time but to me it was as obvious as a flashing neon necklace. I didn’t want to have to explain to the Devil’s Bridge Club how it had got there, or what I’d had to do in order to survive the experience.

“So, Charlie,” Daz said as soon as I’d perched on a bar stool and ordered a beer, “tell us all about Sean Meyer.”

I eyed the barman, who worked on without any indication that he was listening in on the conversation, then shrugged cautiously. “What’s to tell?”

“Well, what’s the story with the two of you?”

“I work for him,” I said, deliberately obtuse.

Daz made a gesture of frustration and William took over.

“What Daz means is,” he asked solemnly, “are you shagging him?”

That brought a burst of laughter that sounded raucous to my ears, set my nerves on edge. I smiled because it was the best defence but inside I went cold and solid. I was overwhelmed by the urge to break things. Bones, mainly.

“I think that’s a question you should ask Sean,” I said, sweetly. “Only, I’d do it over the phone if I were you. It might hurt less.”

***

Tess appeared about twenty minutes later, in full make-up and her usual array of jangling silver jewellery. She was also wearing heels and a very short skirt that revealed a pair of eye-catchingly good legs. Just about every male eye in the room swivelled in their direction. The barman even attempted to casually lean over the bar to keep them in view as she approached.

She sinuously elbowed her way into the group between me and Daz. I had to take a step back to avoid having my insteps punctured by those stilettos.

“Right, where are we going then?” she demanded.

Considering the boys had already had a couple of pints each by that time, I viewed her question with alarm, but Jamie mentioned a pub that he reckoned was within walking distance and had a pool table, bar food and some decent music.

“We can walk up and maybe get a cab back, yeah?” he suggested.

“Why not?” Daz said, eyeing Tess’s heels with a flicker of amusement.

He was still smiling when we all stepped out of the hotel entrance into the still-bright evening sunshine, then his face snapped shut like he’d had a smack in the mouth.

Waiting in the car park on the other side of the road was a dark grey Vauxhall Vectra with four men inside. They were uniformly big men, and would have fitted any of the categories Sean had suggested when we’d spotted them earlier.

They’d been pulled up near our bikes and just for a moment after we appeared, they looked as shocked by the unexpected encounter as we must have done. Then the driver stamped on the gas and the car shot off, scattering gravel and snaking slightly as it hit the road again.

Shaken out of our temporary immobility, we sprinted across the road, not to give chase but to check on the bikes. We’d chained them all together like convicts and couldn’t see any sign that they’d been tampered with. None of the alarm systems registered a trigger.

“Well I s’pose that answers my question,” Tess said ruefully as she joined the rest of us at a pace her footwear would allow.

I nodded. But if the Vectra was shadowing us, where the hell was Sean?

***

We still made the mile walk to the pub Jamie had mentioned, even though I got the impression nobody’s heart was really in it any more. The pub was bright and lively and only got livelier as Friday night hotted up. Tess’s attire ensured she was the centre of attention and she flirted shamelessly with anyone who had a pulse. And with one or two for whom the matter looked pretty debatable.

After we’d eaten, I stayed round the pool table playing a team game with William against Paxo and Jamie, and making a bottle of Grolsch last the evening. It didn’t take long before I understood Daz’s previous reluctance to take on Paxo at pool. He was a demon player. If Jamie hadn’t been bad enough to handicap him, they’d have walked all over us.

“She’s asking for trouble, that one,” William murmured as I straightened from a difficult pot into the centre pocket, having managed to screw the cue ball back up the table for the next shot.

I followed his gaze and saw that two local lads were sizing each other up over Tess. Their body language had taken on the aggressive posturing of two dogs circling with their hackles up before the fight starts. Tess sat on a bar stool in the middle, her legs crossed to reveal a large amount of tanned thigh. She was sipping her drink and smirking. Daz, I saw, was watching proceedings like a spectator rather than a participant. I wondered if she was trying to make him jealous.

“Do you think we ought to do anything?” Jamie murmured, frowning.

“Mm, put myself between two randy young devils and a bitch in heat?” William said, shaking his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Well don’t look at me,” Jamie said, grinning. “Charlie’s the kung fu expert. Why can’t she break them up?”

“What do you suggest?” Paxo asked. “A bucket of cold water?”

“Oh for heaven’s sake,” I muttered, handing Jamie my cue and my bottle of beer. “Here – don’t do anything with either of these until I get back.”

I walked over to the bar and leaned on it casually near where Tess’s admirers were just starting to curl their lips at each other. I pulled out a fiver and waited as though to catch the eye of one of the busy bar staff.

“By the way, Tess,” I said, speaking clearly and leaning back a little so she was in line of sight. “You didn’t tell me who was babysitting your little girl while you’re away?”

Tess’s smug face tightened unattractively. “She’s with her grandma,” she admitted through gritted teeth.

By the time I’d got back to the pool table, the two lads who’d been all over Tess had melted away. Paxo grinned broadly and saluted me with his beer.

“Nicely done, Charlie,” he said, shaking his head. “I mean, bitchy as hell, but nicely done!”

***

By chucking-out time there wasn’t a cab to be had. Buoyed up by the balmy evening and the drink, the boys seemed quite happy to weave their way back to the hotel on foot, even in the dark. Tess was the only one who raised any objections but she was quickly outvoted.

The road was bordered by a grass verge on the right-hand side and a low wall leading to the rocky shoreline on the other. A shimmering moon provided the only illumination, reflected off the surface of the water. Apart from the soothing wash of the breakers, it was quiet.

The four lads drifted ahead, littering the natural sounds of the night with their boisterous laughs and shouts. I hung back, keeping my pace slow enough so that Tess could maintain it alongside me. I walked in the grass, feeling the bottoms of my jeans soon soak through with the dew.

Tess tottered along on the road, complaining that her feet hurt, although I would have thought the amount of Smirnoff Ice she’d been knocking back all evening would have had an anaesthetising effect.

“You’re worried about ‘em, aren’t you?” Tess said suddenly, a moment of unexpected clarity surfacing.

I turned to stare at her in the gloom but I could barely make out her features. Ahead of us, Paxo must have tripped over something. I heard him swearing amid catcalls and laughter from the others.

“I suppose so,” I said, guarded. “I just wish they’d level with me.”

Tess made a sound that could have been a snort. “I don’t mean that,” she said, her voice blurry at the edges but still laced with a certain cunning. “I mean now. You’re worried about ‘em now ‘cos they’re pissed. Whaddya think they’re gonna do to ya, Charlie?”

I felt a chill prickle across the surface of my skin. I jammed my hands into my pockets and tried not to rub at the goosebumps that had sprung up on my arms.

“I don’t think they’re going to do anything to me,” I said carefully, annoyed at her perception. Annoyed at myself for giving anything away. “I think they’d be mad to try.”

The lights of an approaching car appeared around a bend in the road behind us, throwing drastically elongated shadows onto the road ahead. The boys were twenty metres ahead of us now and I saw them skitter for the sides of the road in the sudden glare.

I glanced back just as the car cleared the last bend. A mistake. His lights were on full beam and my retinas were instantly scorched by them. I ducked my head away quickly.

Something about the engine note was a warning, though. The car was being held in too low a gear and the revs were thrashing, harsh and high, in protest. It was also too far over to the right-hand side of the road.

Much too far.

I yanked my hands out of my pockets and grabbed Tess by one arm, swinging her round straight off her feet. She gave a single outraged squeal as she went airborne, landing with a massive thump further along the grass and tumbling to a halt.

The car shot past, its driver’s side wheels kicking up a blast of gravel from the shoulder where, only moments before, Tess had been walking.

The boys jumped out of the way with shouts and curses, but the car pelted away through the middle of them.

I’d overreached to get to her in time and ended up on my knees. I got my head up fast, but the car was already disappearing and I failed to get any impression of a model or colour, never mind a number plate.

“Fuck me, are you all right?”

Jamie’s voice. Now the lights of the car had gone, it suddenly seemed very dark.

It took a few moments before my eyes began to settle. Then I could just make out William and Daz picking Tess off the floor. She threw herself into Daz’s arms, weeping. He froze for a moment, then closed his arms round her and started making ‘there, there’ noises.

“Crazy bastard,” Paxo said, glaring after the disappearing car. “What the fuck was he trying to do?”

“I would have thought that was pretty obvious,” I said grimly, climbing to my feet and dusting off my hands on the seat of my jeans. “The only question I have is, why?”