A Cockney's Journey (36 page)

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Authors: Eddie Allen

BOOK: A Cockney's Journey
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    “Really? Bet in ain’t raining there,” I said jokingly.
    “You’re probably right in that assumption, Eddie,” he reckoned with a grin. “I’m getting some serious vibes off you. Would you mind if I did you a reading?” he asked in a solemn voice.
    “What you chatting about, pal? What sort of reading?” I asked, trying not to laugh at him.
    “Don’t worry, Eddie,” the newsagent told me. “He’s a medium and extremely well known in Bombay, doing readings for stars and politicians.” I glanced over my shoulder, looking out the newsagent’s window. It was now pissing down and getting heavier.
    “OK, I’m up for it. What do ya want me to do?” I asked, feeling pensive.
    “Can we use your stockroom?” Gupta asked the newsagent. “I need total silence to concentrate.”
    The newsagent pointed to a door at the rear of the shop. “Help yourself,” he said. Within moments, I was standing in total darkness with Gupta, his hands feeling my scalp as if reading it like a book. My initial thoughts were that this guy was completely off his trolley and if he touched me ‘wrongly’ I would chin him. However, he never in fact, his hands felt soothing as he felt all around my head.
    “You’ve had a hard life and a lot of heartache, Eddie. Your childhood, especially your childhood, was terrifying, to say the least,” Gupta relayed to me. He then started telling me everything that had happened during my life; my father’s violence towards me, my nan, getting married at sixteen, my three sons and even my football team.
    
How the hell does he know all this? I’ve never seen this guy before. It’s impossible.
    “Your future will be harrowing for a while. There’s still more bridges to pass which ultimately will bring you more heartache and sadness,” he said.
    
Great! More shit to come my way, haven’t I had enough?
    “Over the next decade, you will be pushed to the limit. Your future doesn’t include the things and people that surround you now; they will all be taken from you,” he said confidently. “Your path has already been written and no matter how or if you could change it, it’s going to happen. Someone very close to you will fall very ill soon. I suggest when you go home, light a candle and say a prayer to the cosmos.”
    My mind started panicking.
Did he mean Daniel, Stephen, Sue or Edward? Oh shit.
    “At the moment you run a sports team. Your success will become your failure; something you’ve always dreamed of will fall into your lap unexpectedly. This is written and it will be the downfall of everything that you now know and cherish, because there is someone who wishes to destroy you. He can take on many guises and will not rest until his mission is complete.”
    Well what could I say? Gupta’s remarks sent a chill down my spine. At the time I couldn’t comprehend the meaning of meeting this guy. If it hadn’t rained I wouldn’t have, that’s for sure.
    Gupta carried on, “Do not be angry or frustrated at what happens, Eddie. You will survive and become even stronger than you are now. You will reap the rewards later. Your time on earth is a long one and you will live into your eighties. You will also become very rich and end up a household name. That path is years from now.” He released his hands from my head.
    I walked out into the shop totally shell-shocked at what had just been said, my mind in complete disarray. I couldn’t help thinking that I’d just been given the kiss of death. What worried me was his revelation regarding my enemy. Was he referring to Tyzak, or what? And the illness of someone close to me? If it was Tyzak, then is he still trying to destroy me, even to this day? Maybe what Rose told me as a teenager all those years ago was spot on, and I shuddered with that thought.
    Over the next two years, I grafted like mad, trying to get the house in ship-shape condition, constantly short of cash. The arguing between Sue and me reached fever pitch and in my heart I knew the marriage was doomed, that it was just a matter of time before the straw broke the camel’s back! Eltham United were now becoming a formidable force, winning the Premier Division and the cups with utmost ease, going through the season unbeaten. Daniel was now playing out-of-his-skin with new strike partner, Oliver Sucko. Mark Nelson, our goalkeeper, along with Stephen, Gary Ware, Pat Palmer and Spencer Foster were undoubtedly the best back four the league had seen for many a year. Cameron Shire, Steve Hunt, Thomas Deloys, Jay Speller, Tony Bradshaw, Danny Wilson, Lloyd Colliard and the Barnes brothers, Roger and Andrew, were, without doubt Eltham United’s strongest squad, playing together for four consecutive seasons. In 1993, the club changed grounds and started the 93/94 season playing at the Butterfly Sports Ground in Eltham.
    My arrogant and cocky attitude at this time regarding my football club spilled over into my private life and brought me many enemies, including Sue. The main driving force behind my actions was my dream of having my own ground and taking Eltham United into non-league football, which the team was more than ready for. Four weeks from the end of the season, I recall working in Tulse Hill for a company based in Dulwich. I’d just finished installing a bathroom suite in a block of flats and fitting new doors on the water-tank room at the top of the block; the whole tank room was covered in pigeon shit, including the existing old doors. While I fitted the doors, I cut my hand twice and bled everywhere. I never gave it much thought and wrapped my hanky around the cut. When I finished, I returned to my van, where I proceeded to do the paperwork for the office. I sat there, day-dreaming and smiling to myself. My cuts that had stopped bleeding, so I stuck a couple of plasters over. I was looking forward to the Mary Wiltshire final at the Valley, Charlton Athletic’s ground; Eltham United had four league games left and were ten points clear at the top of the Premier Division.
Sorted, can’t get caught,
I thought, laughing.
    All of a sudden, I started to feel light-headed and queasy. My initial thought was that I was coming down with something, like a head cold or flu. My chest started to feel extremely tight, like someone was standing on it. A sharp, searing pain in my chest and through my shoulder blades followed this sensation. I must have blacked out, because the next thing I remember was looking at the clock in the dashboard and realising I’d been out for over an hour! I felt like shit; my chest was heavy and painful and my head was thumping. Believe it or not I drove home; when I got there I phoned the doctor and waited for him to turn up. The pain was unbelievable; I must have taken at least six Anadin in one hour, but the tablets didn’t even touch it.
    I sat waiting in the front room on my own; everyone was at work and Edward was still at school. The doctor eventually arrived and gave me the once over, advising me that I should go to the hospital now! He scribbled something on a piece of paper, stuffed it into an envelope and handed it to me, telling me to give it in, upon my arrival. After he left, I phoned Sue at work but couldn’t get through so I left a note on the kitchen table and drove to Lewisham Hospital A&E, where I was immediately put on a trolley and left in the corridor. Hours I laid there in total agony; one of the nurses stuck a sublingual glyceryl trinitrate tablet under my tongue, sending me to Venus and the far reaches of the universe. My God, what an experience. Another nurse wired me up to a cardiac machine; taking readings from my heart. It was now 8 p.m. and I’d been on the trolley since about 1 p.m.
    After another two trinitrate tablets, my heart rate understandably quickened, so the doctors decided I was having a heart attack. The next thing I remember was being rushed to the resuscitation room and pumped full of more drugs. I lay there, convinced I was going to die. My eyes were open, but I couldn’t see anything, only darkness. Now, what happened next can only be described as an out-of-body experience. I actually looked down on myself, noticing that there was someone else in the resuscitation room lying on a trolley next to me. Suddenly, I heard a girl’s voice scream to God, asking him angrily why he had taken her father from her.
    It was at this point that I realised my time hadn’t come yet and returned to my body. The next thing I remember is waking up on a bed in a rather crowded ward, my upper body covered in electronic leads attached to some sort of monitoring machine, with tubes sticking out of my arms and nose and my face covered with an oxygen mask. I looked around the ward, feeling shocked and distressed, my mind in turmoil.
What the fuck had just happened to me?
I actually felt like I had died and come back, however the reality was that I never. The pain in my chest was ever-present and just wouldn’t fuck off. My head buzzing and thumping, I could have quite easily given up and gone back to the dark void I came from, however I was made of sterner stuff. Never say die had always been my motto in life; along with the law of averages; if at first you don’t succeed try, try and try again, but never give up, never! I lay there, half asleep and half awake, in a daze; my body wanted to sleep but my brain wouldn’t let it. I needed answers to my thoughts; am I finished, or what and, most of all, what the hell was wrong with me? Incompetent doctors and a male nurse would answer those questions the following morning.
    After visiting time was over, Sue and the boys left me alone in a ward full of pensioners. Well, I was the youngest by thirty-plus bloody years. The ward smelt of old age and death, which I might hasten to add, depressed me even more.
    I was just dropping off to sleep when one of the night staff gently shook my shoulder.
    “It’s time for your tablets, and I must check your blood pressure,” she informed me. “You had a lucky escape, Eddie, at least you’re still here to count your blessings.” She smiled gently.
    “Lucky? In what way am I lucky?” I sighed.
    “Well, Eddie, not everyone survives a heart attack, you know,” she whispered while puffing up my pillows and gazing into my eyes as if looking to see if anyone’s at home.
    “Heart attack? What you talking about? I haven’t had a heart attack! There’s sod all wrong with my heart. There must be some sort of mistake,” I insisted.
    “Heart attack victims are often in denial for a while. The doctor will explain everything in the morning,” she assured me. She left my bedside to administer drugs to the old boy opposite. My eyes started to get heavy, the pain in my chest and back slowly getting blocked out by the morphine as I drifted off into a deep sleep…
***
    “Hello Eddie! Haven’t seen you in a while. What brings you here, my old friend?” the voice said cheerfully.
    “I’m looking for Candy, is she here?” I asked.
    “No, haven’t seen her for some time,” the voice reckoned.
    “She still comes here though, doesn’t she?”
    “Yes, Candy does and I should imagine she will pass by at some point on her travels,” the voice said confidently.
    “Can you tell her that I was looking for her, and tell her that I’m trying to find her.”
    “Of course,” the voice said. “The last time I saw her she spoke very highly of you, Eddie. She too has searched high and low for you, unfortunately your paths haven’t crossed yet, but I’m sure they will.”
    “I need to tell her I am sorry. I made a mistake many years ago. I let my head rule my heart and I am so, so sorry,” I said dejectedly.
    “Don’t worry. She knows and understands,” the voice assured me.
    “Even though you call me ‘old friend’, who are you?” I asked.
    “Ah, that would be telling, wouldn’t it, Eddie? Let’s just say I’ve got your best interests at heart and I will make sure you and Candy bump into each other and rekindle your love. However, this might take considerable time and planning, so it might not be during this mortal life,” the voice said. “Anyway Eddie, there is someone else here who wishes to speak to you. He’s over there, behind you.”
    I glanced over my shoulder to see a figure in the distance; his outstretched arm gesturing me over. “Who is it?” I asked.
    No response came my way. “Are you still with me?” I asked, nothing; not even a murmur. It was perfectly clear to me that the voice had gone.
    “Get over here, now!” another voice in the distance bellowed.
    “Why should I? Who the hell are you shouting at?” I said angrily.
    “If you don’t get your arse over here, I’ll come and fucking drag you over by your throat,” it screamed belligerently.
    
I know that voice. Yes, it’s fucking him, the bastard.
    “Piss off! You can’t hurt me anymore; I’m nothing to do with you. It sickens me that I came from your evil loins,” I shouted at him.
    My father rushed over and grabbed my throat and punched me in the face. My nose split and started pouring with blood. He then kneed me in the stomach and, as I bent over in agony, his knee followed up into my face. My heart was thumping like mad, the fear had returned again. I fell to the floor, doubled up in agony.
    “Hope you fucking die, you bastard,” he screamed while he kicked me in the head.
    I felt this strange sensation, like someone was trying to pull something out of my body. I knew I had to wake up or I was done for. I used all my strength to pull myself back into the waking world. Whoever it was after me, was extremely strong and pulled me back, the battle lasted for ages. Just as I burst back into the waking world, I caught a glimpse of my assailant.
    
Fucking hell.
    “Tyzak!” I screamed and jerked awake, shaking and sweating. I lay in the dark ward feeling sick, the pain in my chest had returned and my breathing was erratic and fast. Suddenly, a continuous bleeping sound filled the quiet ward. Two nurses came rushing over to my bedside, sighing with relief at the sight of my movements in the bed.
    “You OK, Eddie?” the blonde nurse asked.
    “Yeah, thanks, just had a nightmare that’s all. Sorry,” I said sheepishly. “My chest is killing me, though. Can I have some more tablets, please?”
    After taking my pills, I laid there till morning, too scared to go back to sleep. I wondered how the hell I was going to explain how a thirty-eight year old man had pissed himself during the night! Everyone had breakfast, except me; the sign
nil-by-mouth
really pissed me off. I was bloody starving. It was soon 9 a.m. and doctor’s round started. At the end of the ward, I could see three white-coated doctors and a guy in a black suit, who were accompanied by the ward sister; all five of them carried clipboards with their notes. While I waited for the doctors, my mind started asking questions again.

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