Heavy Duty People: The Brethren MC Trilogy book 1 (26 page)

I took out a packet of fags and offered him one. He took it and I flicked my
Zippo for us both to light up.

‘
So what’s happening now?’ Gut asked by way of making conversation as he exhaled a cloud of smoke.

‘
They’re all going back to Billy’s folks place. His mum’s laid on some food and stuff.’

‘
You going?’

I wasn
’t sure how I felt about it. I shook my head. ‘Don’t think so.’

‘
Why not?’

‘
Don’t think it would help. I guess they still blame me for getting him mixed up in all this stuff in the first place.’

He nodded
.

‘
So what’s this about then?’

‘
What?’

‘
All this,’ he said gesturing to the empty graveyard. ‘I mean where’s yer fucking Brethren brothers now, Damage? Billy gets blown up by The Rebels and none of the wankers turn up for his funeral. I mean what’s that all about then?’

‘
I’m here aren’t I?’

‘
Yeah but you and whose army eh? You’re not here officially are you? Skulking at the back, no club wreath or nothing. You’d have thought if The Rebels snuffed him then all the more reason for the club to step up for the funeral in a big way. I mean it ought to mean war right? You don’t just do that to someone in a club, any club, never mind The Brethren and the reputation that they have to protect and expect nowt to happen. I mean they’ll have to be gearing up to do something won’t they?’

I dropped my fag and ground
it out with the toe of my boot, before staring back into his face.

‘
Yeah, strange isn’t it?’

‘
Is it war?’

‘
No, it isn’t.’

‘
Well why the fuck not?’

‘
Now that,’ I said smiling at him, ‘is a fucking good question that far too few people are thinking to ask.’

‘
Well I’m asking it now.’

‘
Yes you are, and I think I want to tell you why.’

‘
Well, what’s stopping you?’

‘
Don’t want to be repeating myself that’s all.’

He raised
his eyebrows quizzically.

‘
See Popeye much these days?’ I asked casually.

That immediately put him on the defensive I noticed.
‘No, you know we don’t, not since you bastards disbanded us. That was part of the price of calling the dogs off. You know that.’

‘
Still, I bet you’re still in touch. Would make sense wouldn’t it?’

‘
Are you trying to trap me or something Damage? Stir up shit between us and The Brethren? Get the truce called off? What are you up to here? What do you want?’

I just smiled at him.
‘Me? Nah mate I’m not up to anything like that. Like I said, I’m here aren’t I? When as you so accurately observe, the rest of The Brethren aren’t. Now don’t you find that just a little bit peculiar? And I’m telling you that I’m thinking about filling you in on some club business. And don’t you find that a bit odd as well? So what do I want? Well I might as well hang for a sheep as a lamb. I want to meet with you and Popeye.’

‘
Really?’

‘
Yeah, really. Somewhere safe, somewhere private.’ I could see he was hesitant.

‘
Look I know what you’re thinking, but this isn’t a trap. You choose the time and the place to suit you. Pick me up and take me there if you like so I can’t set you up. It’s up to you. I just want you to hear what I’ve got to say.’

He looked at me appraisingly
.

‘
I’ll think about it.’

‘
You do that. But Gut, don’t think about it too long.’

‘
I’ve heard that before. And I didn’t much like it then either.’

‘
Yeah, I know. And I’m sorry about that. But for what I think is going down, we need to talk in the next few days or it’ll be too late.’

‘
Will it now?’ He finished his cig and dropping it on the grass took a moment to grind it into the dirt with the toe of his boot before looking back up at me.

‘
OK,’ he said at last, ‘I’ll see what I can do. I can’t promise anything about Popeye though.’

‘
Yeah, bollocks. Call him. I’ll wait.’

*

I caught Dazza at the bar of the clubhouse before Prayers on Monday night.

‘
How’d it go?’

‘
Oh, it was OK I suppose. For that sort of thing.’

‘
Many there?’

‘
Nah, just family and a few local friends really, although there was one interesting face.’

‘
So who’s that then?’

‘
Gut showed up.’

‘
Did he now?’

‘
Yeah. He and Billy were always friendly, so he was just showing his respects.’

‘
How d’you know that?’

‘
I spoke to him.’

Dazza
laughed. ‘Really? So how’d that go then?’

‘
It was fine.’

‘
Considering the last time you met, he had you jumped, stomped and put in hospital?’

‘
Yeah well. That was just business wasn’t it? It was nothing personal. And now since they disbanded we’ve got the truce so I didn’t see there was any issue from my side.’

‘
Guess not then. How about from his?’

‘
He seems OK. We’re still not top of his list of favourites but then you wouldn’t expect that, but so long as he’s left in peace I don’t see we’ll have any trouble out of him.’

‘
I hope not.’

‘
Well they’ve not patched up again have they? Or thrown their lot in with The Hangmen or anybody else? So if they’re not getting reorganised like that then there’s nothing to worry about.’

‘
Guess not. So what did you two find to talk about then?’

‘
Oh not a lot. Billy mainly, what some of the other guys are up to these days, just chewed a bit of fat really.’

‘
Nothing else?’

‘
Nah. Just thought it was worthwhile making contact again since he was there. You know despite everything that happened, he’s good people and was always useful. If we ever got him back onside he would be an asset.’

‘
Yeah,’ Dazza said reflectively, ‘I always rated him and I was sorry he ended up on the other side. But they way things panned out I think it’d be tricky looking to bring him in now, even if he wanted it. But never say never like. Oh well, I was wondering what you two had had to chat about over a smoke.’

Of course that was why I had told him. I had assumed that he would have been having the ceremony watched to see what went on, so I had got in with my story first. No use giving any grounds for suspicion.

*

The
pickup happened the following day.

A battered white
Transit van pulled up parallel to where I’d just parked my motor down the road a bit from my house where I’d found a space and a voice yelled ‘Oi’ from the open passenger window and a jerked thumb indicated the side door of the van. ‘Get in,’ said the voice. I didn’t recognise either of the guys in the front. Without thinking about it I walked round the parked car, pulled on the handle and stepped up into the back of the van.

This was it.

I don’t know where we went. They put a bag over my head and I sat on the floor of the van, my back against the wheel arch as we rocked and bumped our way along for what seemed like an age but in reality was probably no more than an hour or so until with a final sharp swerve as I guessed we turned into a driveway and rattled down a rutted farm track to a yard where with a slight skid on some loose gravel, we drew to a halt. There was a banging of doors and the sound of shouting voices.

‘
You followed?’ was one I recognised.

‘
Nah, don’t think so.’

‘
OK then, get him out and inside.’

And then there were hands,
pulling me to my feet and shoving me out of the van and stumbling through a doorway and into what I saw when the bag was whipped off my head was an old farmhouse kitchen.

Facing me was Gut, and next to him was Popeye
, as pissed off as ever it seemed about what had happened.

‘
You’ve got a fucking nerve Damage, wanting to meet up with us like this. You really have after all that’s happened.’

I shrugged.
‘Maybe.’

‘
Maybe? Maybe? What’s to stop us just fucking doing you right now, right here?’

‘
Not a lot I guess, other than wanting to know what I’ve got to say.’

‘
Why would we want to know anything that you’ve got to say?’

‘
Because why would I have come here like this if I didn’t think it was worth you hearing?’

‘
How d’you know what’s worth hearing to us?’

‘
I don’t, but that’s just the risk I have to take isn’t it?’

‘
Well now you’ve taken it,’ broke in Gut, ‘So I for one am interested in hearing what he’s got to say.’

‘
So?’ I asked Popeye, who fumed at me for a moment.

‘
OK,’ he said finally, ‘Go on then, say your piece. I’m listening, but it had better be good.’

‘
Well, the first thing is, you guys were right.’

‘
We were?’

‘
Yeah.’

‘
Well that’s just great but now what do you want to do about it?’

‘
I want to go back to being us.’

‘
But that’s impossible,’ protested Gut, ‘You know that.’

‘
Is it?’ I asked, already knowing all the things they were thinking, ‘Why?’

‘
Because we can’t go back you tosser. None of us can, even if we wanted to. You know that and I never thought I’d hear you come whining to say something like that.’

‘
Yeah well, I don’t mean going back. I just mean going back to being us.’

Gut was
puzzled about where I was going with this, ‘Well you’re a minx
[12]
and we’re either disbanded or in bad standing so just how do you think that’s going to work, even if we wanted to?’

‘
This is all bullshit,’ jumped in Popeye, ‘what the fuck are we standing here listening to this drivel for?’

‘
No it’s not,’ I said calmly in the face of his outburst, ‘I’m here aren’t I? You know me and what I’m like. Why else would I be here?’

‘
God knows, perhaps you’re just trying to set us up, give Dazza the excuse he needs for war,’ he said.

‘
Dazza doesn’t need an excuse for war. He can bring it on anytime he wants, you know that. You turned down The Brethren, that’s reason enough in his book.’

‘
Yeah, but how do we know we can trust you and anything you say?’ Popeye continued. ‘No, if we’re gonna trust you you’re gonna have to do something to show us that you’re really on the level, something to prove that you’re not doing this for that fucker Dazza.’

I
’d half expected this of course. Putting myself in their shoes, of course they would be bitter, angry and suspicious. I was here wearing a Brethren patch after all, a patch they had fought against when I had taken the other side in what was a war as bitter as only a civil war can be. They were always going to take a hell of a lot of convincing that I was on the level.

‘
OK,’ I shrugged.

‘
OK? What d’you mean, OK?’

‘
I mean, yeah, OK, I’ll show you.’

‘
How?’ Popeye demanded

‘
You got any strikers at the moment?’

‘
Might have,’ he said cagily.

‘
Are those the guys that picked me up? They new?’

‘
Yeah, we’re recruiting, figure we need some numbers.’

‘
Would anyone else in the club recognise ’em?’

‘
No chance.’

‘
Good. I’ll need ’em in town on Wednesday. And I’ll need a bike, not one that anyone will know.’

‘
I can organise that,’ said Gut.

Of course
I knew he could.