The Game of Shepherd and Dawse (5 page)

Angela kept her composure and remained cool while they all chatted, each enquiring if she and Charlie were ok. She was ok on the outside, but was still absolutely fuming about this vile little creature trying to wedge his way between herself and Charlie.

After the drama calmed down Angela, Charlie, Joe and Mrs Bottal went inside Angela’s flat and put the kettle on. They chatted and laughed about various different things without so much as speaking a word about Dickie Duckley. It changed the mood and lifted the vibration back to where it had been before the encounter and Angela was feeling much better now, almost like it had never happened.

Mrs Bottal decided that her work here was done now as she had her own chores that needed attending. She left in a very casual way so as not to reignite the drama in Angela’s mind at all. Joe decided to stay on and chat so Angela would have a male presence in the house to keep her at ease, should she get any thoughts that Duckley may try and knock her door.

They chatted well into the evening while Charlie got on with some of his school work and gave them their space. They chatted so much that Angela had forgotten to even make any dinner for her and Charlie, which suddenly put her in a bit of flap. But Charlie wasn’t that hungry anyway as his school work had tired him out and he was just thinking he was ready for bed.

“Ooooohhh, I’m so sorry Charlie”, Angela said, looking at him tenderly, as soon as she remembered. “I completely forgot about dinner. Let me do you a quick snack or something, ok”?

“No, really. Its fine, Mum. I’m more tired than hungry. I’m just going to go to bed, I think”, Charlie said as he ‘ka-thunked’ his text book shut and gathered up his papers. Angela walked over toward him.

“Well, all right then. I’ll see you in the morning, handsome”, Angela said, leaning over to kiss him on the forehead and giving him the biggest loving smile that she could.

Charlie yawned his way into his bedroom as Angela went and sat back down with Joe.

“He’s such a little angel, that one. I’m so blessed”, she said to Joe, with a sense of appreciation on her face.

“Very old soul, that one”, Joe replied with an equal look of appreciation on his face.

It was at that moment that a tear started to roll down Angela’s face. The day’s events and the thought of anything happening to Charlie was just too much. Her hand started to shake a little and some fear started to creep in about what if’s and what may be’s. Memories of her experiences with Aiden started to flood back too. Joe picked up on this and reached out and held her trembling hand and looked her straight in the eye. He could already sense what was going through her mind.

“Listen, don’t you start fretting about the likes of Dickie Duckley. His sort ain’t no threat to you, my darling”.

Joe’s hands felt warm and strong to Angela, protective even.

“It’s not me that I’m worried about, Joe”, Angela said while looking in the direction of Charlie’s bedroom.

Joe sat back and thought for a bit and then an idea suddenly came to him.

“Listen, how about this? We all know Duckley watches the school kids with a leer in his eye. Ain’t a person in the street who don’t think that. From this day forth, how about I watch out for the safety of the kids too? I’ve got an old deckchair in the shed that’s still got some use left in it. The watcher will now have to put up with being watched”, Joe said as he winked at Angela and tapped the side of his nose. This instantly made Angela feel so much better.

“And fear not, my dear. People of his ilk always over play their hand at some point. You just have to be patient sometimes is all”, Joe said in that all knowing voice that he sometimes spoke in.

From that day forward, Joe did indeed start to watch the watcher and would not leave his post until every last child on Shepherd Road had made it home safely. This was not good news for Dickie Duckley. He didn’t like being watched while he watched the kids. It didn’t fit in with his plans.

At first, Dickie tried giving Joe filthy looks to try and intimidate him off his post, but little did Duckley know that after a person like Joe had had a screaming Messerschmitt plane flying at him at great speed, firing many bullets at the same time (as Joe did when he was a pilot in WWII) a few filthy looks from a scruffy little twerp like Dickie Duckley didn’t even register on Joe’s radar.

Unlike Dickie (who couldn’t handle the discomfort of the colder weather), Joe sat at his post in all weathers: come rain, shine, sleet or snow. All of the children and mothers came to know Joe quite well from there on in. They all very much respected the fact that without fail Joe would be there with his little tick list and not finish until every child had been ticked on the list. That Christmas, a few of the residents chipped in and bought him a proper classroom register book. Some of the children took great delight in always signing their name in the register and saying hello to Joe and having a quick chat. Joe really enjoyed his position, it gave him a good sense of purpose and on the cold days it allowed him to appreciate the warmth of his house when he got back inside.

JOE SADSOUL

CHARLIE CLARK

ANGELA CLARK

MRS BOTTAL

CHAPTER THREE

DICKIE DUCKLEY OVERPLAYS HIS HAND

“
Don’t let the behaviour of others destroy your inner peace”. ~ Delai Lama

“It’s fourteen this year, Mam. Two more than last year”, Charlie called excitedly from the front room.

“All right, Chuckles, I’ll be there in a minute”, Angela called from the bathroom, situated at the back of the flat.

It was Valentine’s Day again and the usual avalanche of cards had just come through the door. Angela had been living on Shepherd Road for three years now and she’d gotten used to this heart-filled routine, pretty much knowing who had sent each card. Every year it was the same dozen or so people. Some did it just for fun and some did it because they were genuinely in love with Angela, though the only card that interested Angela was the one Charlie had sent to her. Neither Charlie nor Angela had a partner, nor were they interested in one. So together they decided to rename Valentine’s Day ‘Mother-and-Son Day’ instead and send each other a card to commemorate it.

“Bet you can’t guess which one's mine”, grinned Charlie.

“Umm, let me see”, Angela said as she pretended to study the cards. As if by magic, she picked out the one Charlie had bought for her on the first try.

Charlie was so pleased she had picked the right one and he looked at her with an enamoured smile on his face. Without fail, Angela always would pick the right card. What Charlie didn’t realise was that each year when he showed Mrs Bottal his card, while checking for her approval, she would then tell Angela which one to look for, even though Charlie had sworn Mrs Bottal to secrecy. Charlie's card this year read, “To my lovely Mummy”. That was all it said, but that was all it needed to say. Charlie rarely used the word Mummy, except on special occasions. He thought it sounded a bit childish, especially now that he was the grand old age of nine! He only used it on special occasions when he wanted to show her how much he really cared.

Angela never opened all the cards in front of Charlie, just in case someone had written something lewd in one of them and this year she was really glad she hadn’t. The card itself was nice enough. In fact, she could see that someone had gone to great expense when purchasing it. Inside was a different story. Inside, the type-written message on the blank card read:

“You think you so beutiful, don’t you? Well, now this. Yor gonna have acid thrown in yor face. It maybi today, it mabi tommorrow, it mabi next month. But very soon when you answer your door, its coming yor way, BITCH”.

The perpetrator had thought this was the perfect way of getting under Angela’s skin, a threat that might happen at any time and a threat that would make her heart race every time the doorbell rang. But his threat failed to have the desired effect. As soon as Angela saw the appalling grammar and spelling mistakes she knew she was dealing with a fool. Angela went straight around to Joe’s for some council on the matter. When she showed it to Joe, his face lit up straight away and they both smiled at each other.

“You see, my dear. Patience is a virtue”, he said nodding in approval. “But we mustn’t jump to conclusions, of course. Not until all the facts are clear”.

Joe pulled a fresh plastic freezer bag from the kitchen drawer and let Angela slip the card and envelope inside so as not to soil the letter with his own fingerprints. He reached into his pant pocket and pulled out a £20 note.

“Here’s £20 for a return taxi. Now, you go and fancy your face up and put on something nice. I’ll book you a taxi while you get ready, then take that straight to the police and accept nothing less than a full investigation, clear”? Joe said as he tucked the £20 note into her hand. Angela nodded.