A Cockney's Journey (27 page)

    “But you’re only twenty-one Eddie, When? Why?” she asked looking pale and distraught.
    “When I was sixteen and her name’s Sue,” I said, rolling my eyes up towards the pub’s ceiling.
    “Do you love her, Eddie?”
    “That’s neither here nor there. I love my sons and that’s all that matters to me,” I replied, with an air of certainty.
    “Bloody pub’s getting worse for service,” Dan moaned, putting down our drinks on the table. Candy sipped her wine, smiling at me. I returned the smile with a wink.
    “I’ve got to go soon, Ed,” Candy said. She fished about in her handbag, pulled out a pen and piece of paper, then scribbled down her phone number. “Please give me a call. We can have a drink together. There’s no reason why we can’t be friends forever,” she said sadly, looking into my eyes pleadingly.
    “OK, Candy, I’ll give you a ring in the week,” I lied. She got up, kissed me on the cheek and left the pub.
    “What was all that about, Ed? Dan asked.
    “Nothing. I knew Candy before I met Sue, but we were just mates, that’s all,” I lied yet again. I sat sipping my pint, thinking how much I really loved Candy and how things might have been different. However, I was a father now and my sons came first, regardless of whether I had married their mother to escape my father by getting Sue intentionally pregnant. I never mention Candy to anyone. I kept my love for her locked away in the back of my mind and heart. The hardest thing I ever did in my life, and there’s been quite a few, was to throw away Candy’s number when we left the pub. The pain it caused me was unbelievable. My stomach churned for days, knowing that deep inside a part of me had just been lost forever. I made that decision for my sons’ wellbeing, not mine. Ever since I was fifteen, I’ve searched high and low to find my soul mate, but to no avail. Maybe I had already found her and lost her. That, however, was my choice.
    Saturday 15th February, 1977 was my 21st birthday and not a memorable day. In fact, it was a bloody disaster. Sue and I agreed to hold a party at our house, sending out invites to all and sundry. After coming back from watching QPR beat Leeds United 2-0 with Stan Bowles and Don Givens getting on the score sheet, we went about emptying the front room. Sue made a lovely buffet, while I sorted out the music. Everyone was asked to arrive about eight. Unfortunately, I didn’t know at the time that there were three other parties going on. Consequently, not a soul turned up for my 21st, apart from Danny and Maureen and that’s because they lived next door! I’ve never been more embarrassed in my life.
    In the end, the four of us stuffed our faces and got blind drunk. I soon got over the disappointment of my attempted birthday bash by the following week. It was during this week that we were offered a newly built two bedroomed flat in New Cross, which we duly accepted without any hesitation. The first couple of years living in our new flat were very hard. I struggled to earn a living, moving from job to job in a vain attempt to bring in more money. Money was so tight I had to work as a pub DJ at weekends and during the week. I think the most soul-destroying job I ever had the misfortune to perform was early morning cleaning! My gambling was now totally out of control, causing major friction between Sue and myself.
    Then, one day I had a brain wave. Easy money, I thought. So I started my own video round, using the back of my van like a shop. Acquiring two videos and hundreds of blank VHS tapes, I spent weeks copying films and ending up with hundreds of films and quite a large round. Unfortunately, just when I thought about trying to rent a shop, the inevitable happened. Some bastard nicked my van, along with my livelihood. Just like every other dream I’ve had in my life, something or someone came along and screwed it up. So I carried on blagging my way through the building industry, picking up and applying certain skills that over the years, I had taught myself.
    Just as I was getting myself straight and enjoying providing for my family, fate dealt me another blow. Yeah, you guessed it, I lost my job, in fact everyone on site was laid off. The company I worked for went into liquidation and for six months I couldn’t find a bloody job anywhere. It was during this time that Al was released from Parkhurst prison. He actually learnt a trade while he was away, but now being a plasterer
and
an ex con, he couldn’t get a job for love nor money. So the pair of us found ourselves in the same boat. He promised me his life of crime was well and truly over. His promise was like music to my ears, however, he still went boozing with his dodgy pals at weekends. My relationship with Sue was nearing breaking point due to the lack of money. I was now getting increasingly desperate for money, looking everywhere for work. Whilst scanning the
Evening Standard
for work, I came across an advert for a company called Arincon Construction. They required overseas employees with construction knowledge for their site in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia. I showed Al the advert and he agreed that it was the only way to escape our predicament. So, after phoning the company’s personnel department, we arranged interviews for the following day. That evening, I explained to Sue what I had in mind and surprisingly she agreed.
    “If it gets us out of trouble, I’m all for it,” she said encouragingly. Well, once I got the green light, there was no stopping me. The following morning, Al phoned me to tell me that James fancied working abroad and was coming along to the interview with us. I’d known James for yonks; he was a really nice guy and the thought of him joining us on this venture pleased me immensely. So, the three of us had our successful interviews and, each signing twelve month contracts, we were now Arincon employees. The following week, we were on our way to Saudi Arabia.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
    The flight from Heathrow to Bahrain took hours. It was the first time that I’d flown and I must admit to feeling slightly nervous. I considered myself lucky to get allocated the aisle seat. The thought of looking out of the window made my stomach turn over. During the flight, the stewardess brought round a rather welcome drinks trolley.
    “What can I get you, sir?” she asked, smiling.
    “Uh, I’ll have…” pausing to survey the choices, “Southern Comfort ’n’ lemonade please, In fact, give me five miniature bottles. It’ll hopefully knock me out,” I said, laughing.
    “First time flying?” she asked, putting my bottles on the flap table.
    “Yeah. It’s a bit daunting,” I said nervously.
    “Don’t worry; it’s the safest mode of transport. I’ve done this trip hundreds of times,” she informed me.
    
If I had a pound for every time somebody’s told me that flying is a doddle, I’d be rich,
I thought. After a while, I started to feel a bit inebriated; my eyes slowly feeling like lead weights. Glancing across the aisle, I noticed that Al and James were already out for the count. I reclined my seat and drifted off to sleep.
    “The lift is broken,” the commissionaire informed me. “You’ll have to climb the stairs. What floor do you require?”
    “Top floor, I think. Well, I assume the eighteenth is the top?” I said, looking depressed.
    “Dead right. The stairwell door is over there. Good luck!” he chuckled pointing in the direction of the door. “Why don’t you come back tomorrow? The lift will be fixed by then,” he suggested, as I strolled over to the door.
    “I can’t. They’re expecting me. Tomorrow will be too late,” I moaned.
    “Well, you look fit enough for the task,” he said, walking away.
    The stairwell was surprisingly cold, considering the warmth of the foyer. I slowly began my ascent, trying to pace myself. First floor, second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth. I stopped to take in deep breaths. My legs started to feel heavy. It’s the bloody fags, I thought. Suddenly the stairwell was plunged into total darkness.
Must be some sort of electrical fault; that’s probably why the lift wasn’t working,
I thought to myself. I carried on climbing the stairs, occasionally tripping up on unseen treads. Further up the stairs, I heard faint whispering voices, followed by this booming voice coming down the stairwell.
    “Hurry up! They’re waiting. You don’t want to upset them, believe me,” the voice said.
    “I can’t go any faster. I can’t even see where I’m going,” I replied to the voice.
    “Excuses, excuses. Just hurry up, otherwise they’ll start to lose patience with you,” the voice said in an annoyed manner.
    “Am I near the top, yet?” I asked the voice.
    “No, so get your skates on,” it demanded.
    After what seemed like hours, I stopped again, taking deep breaths into my now-tired lungs. My calf muscles were aching and my right thigh felt bruised.
    “No time to rest, they’re waiting for you. If you don’t make it, they’ll send you back, you fool!” the voice said.
    “Back? What do you mean back? I can’t even remember where I came from, let alone go back.” I was confused. “Anyway, who the hell are you? I could be talking to myself, for all I know. I can’t see you and all I can hear is someone barking out bloody orders.”
    “Swearing is forbidden. They can hear you; everything you do or say they know about, so watch your tongue,” the voice reckoned. “Besides, it doesn’t matter who I am. Let’s just say that I’m your temporary guardian, so to speak.”
    “Temporary guardian! Well, I tell you what, Mr. Guardian, how about giving me some light so I can see were I’m going,” I demanded.
    “When you get to the top, you’ll see the light. Plenty of light, in fact, so get a move on,” the voice said calmly.
    Up, up, up I climbed. Suddenly, there were no more stairs. Feeling around blindly in the dark, my hand touched a door handle.
At last,
I thought. Turning the handle, I pushed the door open and entered what I thought would be a room or hallway. To my complete surprise, I found myself standing in a sun-drenched forest clearing. Rubbing my eyes in disbelief, I glanced over my shoulder, noticing to my horror that the door leading to the stairwell had vanished.
This is not possible. How the hell did a forest end up at the top of a building?
Tall, thick trees lined the grass clearing, with a river curling around the front of the forest. Across the river stood a beautifully ornate, arch-shaped timber bridge. I stood staring in the direction of the bridge, trying to decide what I should do, when suddenly, out of the forest, flew hundreds of silhouetted forms, darting in every direction, gracefully flying in and out of the forest and under the bridge. It seemed to me that they were playing, although I wasn’t sure what they were.
Fairies maybe? Could be angels or even spirits.
Then, out of the blue came this vivid white flash, followed by a loud cracking and booming noise. I covered my eyes from the flash that had practically blinded me. I stood listening for any noises, with my hands over my eyes.
    “Scared what you might see?” the voice said. “They have all gone now. They just wanted to see you.”
    “Where am I and who are you really?” I asked.
    “Well, that’d be telling, wouldn’t it? Mustn’t tell; more than my soul’s worth,” he said. “Gideon will explain everything.”
    “Who’s Gideon?”
    “This is his domain; he’s the one who summoned you here,” the voice said without answering my question. “I must go now. Gideon is coming, I can feel him in the forest.”
    I squinted through my fingers to see if the bright flashing light had gone. After convincing myself it was safe, I dropped my hands. My jaw sank upon seeing the bridge being consumed by bright yellow and orange flames. A tall transparent figure floated through the forest towards the burning bridge and crossed it, standing in the flames, with its arms opened; its gesticulating actions suggested that it was summoning something from beyond. Out of the depths of the river crawled these hideous-looking amphibians; black, slimy, grotesque creatures. As they emerged out on to the clearing, they dripped black liquid over the plush green grass. I stood horrified, watching these things slowly crawl to the front of the burning bridge. Hundreds of them stood huddled together. Facing the figure on the bridge, they silently waited to be addressed. Suddenly there was another loud crack, followed by rumbling thunder. From the figure’s outstretched arms came several bolts of forked lightning which simultaneously hit all the creatures that stood before it. I watched in amazement at this spectacular event. The black slimy creatures turned into floating transparent forms, just like the ones I had seen earlier.
    “He’s released them from purgatory. Every thousand years, Gideon frees the dammed,” the whispering voice explained.
    “So why am I here?” I asked nervously.
    “Your going into the pit with the rest,” he replied.
    “What? You must be joking. I’ve done nothing wrong, well, nothing to justify that sort of punishment,” I cried desperately.
    The figure on the bridge floated towards me, and the feeling of dread and uncontrollable fear ripped through my body. I tried to run but my legs wouldn’t listen to my brain’s command. The pungent whiff of stagnant water filled my nostrils, as I slowly submerged into the black slimy river. Beneath my feet, I could hear screams of agony. My lungs filled with murky filthy water; my life flashed before me! Sue, Candy, Anne and my sons, all in the same film. I spiralled down to the black, freezing cold depths of the river. My screams were going unheard, as I plunged downwards into the darkness.
    I jerked awake to the sound of the captain’s voice ordering everyone to do their seatbelts up and extinguish any cigarettes. I sighed with relief, looking around the plane at all the passengers.
    “You all right, sir? you look as if you’ve seen a ghost,” the stewardess asked me.
    “Yeah, I’m fine, Just a bad dream. How long before we arrive in Bahrain?”
    “Not long, about half an hour,” she smiled.
    The plane started circling around the gulf, waiting for clearance to land. After a while, it started its descent, slowly dropping towards the airport’s runway.
    “Not long now, Ed. Our feet will soon be on terra firma,” Al said, yawning.
    “Yeah, can’t wait, Al. This has been some long haul,” I said, rubbing my eyes and feeling tired from the effects of the Southern Comfort. The stewardess started handing out boiled sweets to all the passengers and then sat down, putting on her seatbelt. The sensation in my eardrums was unbelievable; my ears felt as if they were going to explode. Suddenly, the engine began to roar very loudly. The first bump was quickly followed by the second bump and a prolonged screeching noise.
Whoopee, we’re down! Thank God,
I thought to myself. The plane started taxiing around the runway then came to a halt. Everyone stood up, stretching their legs and pulling out their hand luggage from the overhead compartments. In an orderly fashion, one by one we descended the mobile stairs to the tarmac. My feet touched foreign soil for the first time in my life. I must admit, I wasn’t prepared at all for what confronted me. Firstly, the heat. Just three feet in front of me was this amazing heat haze, like a wobbly transparent jelly wall. Secondly, young teenage soldiers were all over the airport, strolling about with machine guns under their arms, some of them looking no older than fourteen. Thirdly, there were explosions and machine gun fire in the far distance. We were ushered into the airport lounge by a line of soldiers. Once inside, we were told not to leave the lounge until our plane had refuelled and was ready to depart for Jeddah. After a two hour wait, we returned to our plane and were soon airborne again, on our way to Jeddah.
    After landing at Jeddah airport and going through the usual rigmarole of getting through customs, the three of us left the airport. Standing outside, James and Al and I watched in amazement at the manic spectacle. Everyone was tearing about like the end of the world was coming; every car, taxi, van and lorry constantly sounded his or her horn. I’ve never heard such a racket in my life; bloody loonies, all of them. I noticed that nearly every vehicle that passed us had major damage; pranged wings and dented doors. Unbelievable. If this were London, the old Bill would have a field day; nicking every driver, left, right and centre.
    “Hey, Johnny! Carry your bags, Johnny? Ten riyals. Good price, Johnny,” screamed this kid as he grabbed my suitcase handle.
    “Oi! You let go of my bloody suitcase. We’re waiting for a coach, you dickhead,” I shouted angrily, pulling the little runt off my suitcase handle.
    “Please Johnny, no food for days, Johnny,” the skinny runt said pointing to his mouth. Being a soft touch, I gave the kid five riyals and sent him on his way.
    “Hey, Johnny! Carry your bags? Ten riyals. Cheap, Johnny, ehh?” said another bloody kid.
    “No thanks, I’m waiting for someone,” I said, gesturing for him to go away. This went on for at least an hour while we waited for our lift to the site. While I was fending off yet another beggar, this old blue and white filthy coach pulled up. The Arincon sign in the front windscreen confirmed it was our transport. Once on the coach we found ourselves in the company of guys from France, Germany, Spain, Wales, Scotland and the north and south of England. After a hair-raising journey, the coach arrived at Arincon’s construction site, which was situated smack-bang in the middle of the desert; about five or six miles from Jeddah. I noticed the heat haze was a lot thicker here than at the airport. It was so hot and humid; I actually found it slightly difficult to breathe.
    I glanced around the site; I could see at least a dozen portable billets and other large buildings, which I later found to be a canteen, reception, first aid room, recreation areas and company offices. All the facilities were only a short walking distance from the site. This was going to be our work place and home for the next two years. During our induction, we were told that we had three days to get acclimatised to the conditions. I sat reading the induction handouts. On no occasion should you venture into the sea without foot protection due to the increasing numbers of stonefish. Always take your salt tablets and drink plenty of fluids during the day. Alcohol is totally forbidden on and off the site and anybody found breaking this rule will be instantly sacked. Working hours are 5:30 a.m. to 2:00 p.m., due to the high temperatures in the afternoon. Working days will be Saturday till Thursday and rest day will be every Friday. While reading, I came across a page full of warnings regarding the rules in Arabia. If any person or persons are involved in a car incident and a citizen of Saudi Arabia is injured, you will be expected to support their family. I read on, subject to Saudi law if anyone is convicted of stealing or any violence, they will be dealt with severely. Do not attempt to converse with any Saudi women…blah blah blah.
    After the induction, we were shown our living quarters and the canteen, where we would have all our meals.
Very impressive,
I thought. Apparently, all the food came over in containers from Germany. The company’s chef refused to use or cook anything from Jeddah. He advised us to never eat anything from the souk, or local market, especially meat, otherwise you could end up with a severe bout of dysentery. He told us that the local kebabs were lethal and in some places in the souk, meat is left out for days in the heat to dry out and would then be riddled with extremely deadly bacteria. Food poisoning and dysentery were commonplace in Westerners over here in Saudi, he informed us. Unfortunately, not everyone heeded his warnings, with at least ten guys going down with dysentery in the first three months. He also advised us to look after ourselves and drink plenty of water, take our salt tablets and pray we didn’t fall ill.
    “The last place on this planet you would want to visit is the local Jeddah hospital. Believe me,” he said, shaking his head.
    After unpacking my clothes and washing utilities, the three of us strolled around the billets, introducing ourselves to fellow workers. I must admit that my initial impression of most of the guys we met was, to say the least, somewhat disturbing. I mean, they were very aggressive in their manner, which really bothered me; none more so than the site manager, Angus McNamara. What a complete nutter! All he did was talk out of his arse, going on about how long he’d been in Saudi and that he couldn’t wait to escape.