The Choice, page 15
‘Ah, would you shut –’ Al stopped mid-sentence when he looked up and saw who he was speaking to. The man was wearing an open jacket over a jumper and a shirt, with a pair of dark jeans and polished black boots. He was around the same age as Dad, if I had to guess, maybe a year or two younger.
‘Tut tut tut, Alan,’ he said, wagging his finger in an exaggerated way, pretending to be serious. ‘Did nobody ever teach you to look before you speak? You’ll get yourself in trouble.’
Al put his can down, holding it upright between his feet. I’d never heard anyone call him Alan before; even his parents called him Al. It made me strangely tense.
‘Oh,’ he said sheepishly. ‘Sorry, I didn’t see that it was you.’
The man didn’t look at all familiar to me but Al obviously knew who he was.
‘You’re all right, Alan.’ He smiled, but it was more of a grimace. ‘Doesn’t bother me.’ And then he muttered it again to himself, the words sneaking out from under his breath. ‘Doesn’t bother me one bit.’
There was an uneasy pause where no one said anything. The man raised his eyebrows. ‘Well, how’s your da doing?’ he asked.
‘He’s good, thanks. I’ll tell him I was talking to you.’
There was something strange about the way Al was acting. It wasn’t just that he was being polite. He was being overly polite, as if he was trying to make a good impression with his friendliness and manners.
‘His da’ – the man was talking to me and Shane now – ‘is a great man, but you lads already know that, I’m sure.’
I didn’t think Al really got on with his dad much. He was an angry man who seemed to do far too much shouting and roaring, even over little things, but now wasn’t the time to point that out. I smiled and nodded and Shane did the same.
‘Young Mark too,’ he said. ‘He’s a hard worker, that lad. He has his head screwed on.’ He tapped his finger against the side of his head for emphasis, and even in the dark, I could see the jagged scar that ran the length of his jawline, faded with the years.
When he mentioned Mark, I wondered if he was talking about Al’s uncle. He must have been. Whoever this man was, he seemed to know a lot of people – Al’s family, at the very least. He didn’t seem to be in much of a rush. He took a lighter out of his pocket and started flicking it so that it sparked but didn’t light, and he whistled a little tune to himself.
‘Anyway, Alan,’ he said after a few moments, ‘seeing as I’ve bumped into you, I have a little job that you might like to do for me.’
Al jumped to attention – ‘Of course, yeah. I’d be happy to help if I can,’ he said – but I was beginning to think it wasn’t an accident that he’d happened to find the three of us sitting there.
‘Very good, very good,’ the man said. ‘It won’t take too long but it’s important so I’ll need someone I can trust, which is why I’m asking you.’
Al’s chest stuck out a bit further when he heard that.
‘Now, normally, it would be about two hundred euro for the job …’
If I hadn’t already been sitting down, I would have fallen over. Shane’s eyes lit up.
‘But, sure, seeing as it’s you and you’d be doing me a favour, I think I can make it three hundred this time around.’
The three of us were hanging on his every word now. That was the type of money you could spend for months and still have change left over.
‘Actually, now that I think of it,’ he said, sizing up me and Shane but talking to Al, ‘it might be more of a two-man job, or even a three-man job, so bring your friends with you if you like. The same deal for all of you – three hundred euro each – and if it all goes well, it shouldn’t be more than twenty minutes’ work.’
Shane looked the way I felt, practically giddy at the thought of all that money and unable to believe our good luck. The two of us were too stunned to speak but Al accepted on all our behalfs. ‘We’d be happy to. What do you need from us?’
The man took a phone out of his pocket and looked at it while he thought about the question for a moment. ‘It’s a quarter past ten,’ he said. ‘Meet me back here at the same time tomorrow night and I’ll give you the instructions.’
We watched him walk away – in the opposite direction to the shops, I noticed – and waited until he was gone before bursting into excitement.
‘Holy … did he say three hundred each?’ Shane said in total disbelief. He cracked open his last can in celebration.
‘Who’s your man?’ I asked Al, but he was distracted and he wasn’t listening to me.
‘What?’
‘Who’s your da’s rich mate and what does he do if he’s offering us’ – I did the maths quickly – ‘nine hundred euro for a few minutes’ work?’
Al gave me one of those looks he sometimes gave me, like he couldn’t understand how he was friends with someone who asked such ridiculous questions. ‘You don’t know who that was?’ He sounded nervous, not excited.
‘No. Do you know who it was?’ I asked Shane, getting a bit defensive. He shook his head as he swallowed his beer.
Al’s face dropped as he looked at us. ‘That was Charlie Hanlon.’
As soon as the words left Al’s mouth, my heart sank. ‘What?’ I panicked, hoping that Al was on the wind-up. ‘Tell me you’re messing.’
‘Why would I mess about something like that?’ Al said, and there wasn’t even a hint of a joke in his voice. I realised that there was no such thing as an easy €300. We were in way over our heads.
‘How do you know Charlie Hanlon?’
‘Dad is good mates with him,’ Al explained. ‘Well, they were good mates when they were younger. Dad doesn’t really like talking about it but he told me one night when he came in from the pub.’
‘Tell us,’ I said impatiently, and Al held up his hand, telling me to settle down.
‘The two of you aren’t to tell anyone this, you promise?’
‘Of course, yeah.’
He hesitated.
‘We won’t say a word, Al, honestly.’
‘All right, all right. This was years ago. Dad said he wasn’t getting much work around the time when Mam was pregnant with me, and they were a bit stuck for money, so him and Charlie ended up doing a job together. He didn’t tell me what it was, but whatever happened, they got caught. Dad was the one who took the fall for it and ended up in jail, and Charlie got off scot-free.’
Al’s dad was a painter and decorator, but Al had never told us that he had been in jail. ‘How long was he in for?’ Shane asked.
‘Four years,’ Al said. ‘I think that’s probably why him and Mam are always fighting. He was in jail when I was born, and he wasn’t around at all until I was three, and Mam had to mind me by herself all of that time.’
‘And they’re still mates now, are they?’ I said.
‘Yeah. Well, I think Charlie made sure that Mam had everything she needed for me when I was born and I was little. I suppose if he had been nicked that time with Dad, or instead of Dad, he probably wouldn’t be the most powerful gangster in the city now. So he was paying Dad back for that, and he still drops over to the flat a couple of times a year, which is how I know him.’
I tried to think back to some things that had happened when I was nine; four years seemed like a long time, and a very long time to be in prison. We were in a serious situation.
‘What do you think he’ll want us to do?’ I wondered out loud.
‘I’m not sure, but we can’t really say no to him, can we?’ Shane said.
Al drummed his fingers off the side of his can. ‘I don’t really have a choice, but you lads do, I suppose.’
Everything about the situation screamed at us to run a million miles, yet we were still sitting there talking about it as if there was a decision to be made. All the stories I’d heard about Charlie Hanlon ran through my head on a loop. Surely he hadn’t got to where he was by trusting random teenagers that he met out in the field with important jobs? Whatever he had in mind, it had to be something straightforward, something that he expected the three of us to be able to do for him. It couldn’t be that difficult.
I wondered what Kev would make of it all if he was here – but he wasn’t. All I had to go on were Al’s and Shane’s reactions. They both seemed scared too, but not scared enough to say no. If they went, I’d follow.
‘Three hundred euro is a lot of money,’ I pointed out, wondering what exactly would be a suitable price if we did put ourselves in harm’s way.
‘Maybe we should just see what he says tomorrow,’ Shane suggested, and Al seemed relieved that we weren’t going to leave him in this mess by himself.
And that’s how we agreed that we would meet one of Dublin’s most notorious criminals to do a job for him.
22
I left Al and Shane and walked the long way home, up past the Towers, in case John was there and I spotted him. Lots of people were dotted around in little groups but there was no sign of him, so I didn’t hang around. When I got closer to home, I heard someone calling me.
‘Here, Philly, stall it.’
I turned around. It was Kev. I had been avoiding him, but I’d never been as happy to see him as I was then. My heart was still rattling so hard that I felt it all the way up in my neck. I had to tell him about what had just happened, about Charlie Hanlon. He’d know what to do.
‘What’s the story?’ he said, walking over to join me. ‘Where have you been? Every time I knock up to the flat, you’re not there.’
We hadn’t really spoken since school had finished because I knew he’d try to convince me to go back playing football. And I was happy for Kev – I really was – but every time I saw him, I would be reminded that he was in the academy and that I had made a mess of it.
‘Ah, I’m just out hanging around. I haven’t seen you much either,’ I said, playing dumb. ‘You must be busy with everything going on.’
‘Yeah, it’s great.’ I could see he had loads that he wanted to tell me. We were used to spending all day, every day together, and now we hadn’t seen each other in weeks.
‘Is everything all right?’ he asked. ‘Are things all right at home, I mean?’
‘Yeah, it’s grand.’
‘It’s just that you’re acting really weird at the minute. It’s like you’ve disappeared. What’s going on? Why did you stop coming to training?’
‘Dunno, I just lost interest.’
Kev knew there was more to the story than I was telling him. There had to be. I could see that he was hurt – we always told each other everything – but he didn’t push me on it.
‘Did Colm call around to yours to speak to you?’ he asked.
‘Yeah, maybe two weeks ago. I think he was trying to get my mam and dad to convince me to go back, but we ended up having a bit of a row instead. I doubt he wants me back now.’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He asked me to keep an eye out for you and to talk to you if I saw you. He didn’t want me to go knocking on your door, though. He said to make it look like I’d just met you by chance – I probably wasn’t supposed to tell you that bit,’ he said, and we both laughed. He still knew how to get a laugh out of me, even if things were a bit strange between us.
‘I’ve been hanging around here most nights waiting to see you but you’re never around. Come up to training tomorrow night, come on.’
He wasn’t asking me because Colm had sent him. He was asking because he was my friend.
‘Nobody cares about what happened with the academy,’ Kev continued. ‘Nobody cares that you’ve gone missing for a few weeks. The only thing that anyone’s worried about now is Féile, and how we’re going to win it, and we need you for that. Everyone will be delighted to see you.’
The story Colm had told me was still stuck in my head, and it bounced back to the front again when Kev mentioned Féile. Would I still regret it in 20 years if I didn’t go back?
‘How many matches have you played?’ I asked.
‘Three so far. We won all of our group games so we’ve two weeks off now, and then we’re into the semis against Vincent’s, and the other semi is Crokes against Christopher’s.’
‘It sounds like you’re doing fine without me so.’
‘Don’t be stupid. You know you’re the best player on the team, and you’re our captain as well. I don’t even want to be captain. I told Colm I was only doing it until you came back.’
Kev knew me long enough to know that I could be a bit stubborn – more than a bit, if we’re being honest – so he left it there and changed the subject. ‘How’s John doing?’
I shrugged my shoulders. Truth was, I didn’t really know.
‘He’s home at the moment, though, isn’t he?’ Kev said. ‘I saw him the other day when he was helping Mrs O’Dea.’
‘Helping her with what?’ I said, puzzled. I hadn’t a clue what he was talking about.
‘Oh,’ Kev said, as if he somehow expected me to already know. ‘She was coming back from the shops the other day and she nearly got hit by a car. Some lad flew around the corner and didn’t see her. He slammed on the brakes and beeped, but Mrs O’Dea got such a fright that she dropped the shopping bags in the middle of the road and all of her stuff went everywhere.’
I had a picture in my head of smashed eggs and tins of beans rolling off and poor Mrs O’Dea scrambling around in the middle of it all.
‘That dope in the car just revved the engine and drove around her and sped off,’ Kev said, shaking his head. ‘He never stopped to see if she was okay or anything. I was playing football out in the field and I heard all the noise and saw her chasing after the stuff.
‘I was going over to help her, but before I got there, John had seen it happen too and was straight over. He stopped the traffic so he could pick up all her stuff and pack it back into the bags, and he got her purse out of the middle of the road for her and then carried it all back up to the flat.’
My mind immediately jumped to all sorts of bad conclusions when Kev mentioned Mrs O’Dea’s purse, and then I got upset for even allowing myself to think those things.
‘He was gone before I got a chance to talk to him,’ Kev said, ‘so I was just wondering how he’s doing. Anyway, look, I’ll see you tomorrow – seven o’clock in Poppintree Park.’
Just thinking about the following day, and whatever it was that Charlie Hanlon had planned, gave me a shiver. Now was my last chance to tell Kev about it, to see what he thought, to ask for his help. I thought of what to say, and then I changed my mind and said nothing at all.
‘Training? Sound, yeah, I’ll think about it,’ I said.
‘What’s there to think about?’
A lot, I thought to myself. There’s a lot to think about.
I thought about it the whole next day, and at six o’clock, when I should have been checking my boots and packing my bag, I went to meet Al and Shane instead. Charlie Hanlon had said a quarter past ten but I needed to get out of the flat. I knew Kev would knock up for me so we could walk over to training together, the way that we had always done, and I didn’t want to be at home when he called. I didn’t want him to try to convince me. And I didn’t want to have to tell him where I was going instead.
I met Al and Shane outside the eight-storeys and we walked around to the pub to play a few games of pool to pass the time. None of us spoke much. Not knowing what we would be asked to do was the worst part because that meant that, for now, everything was a possibility; if the lads were anything like me, their imaginations were being annoyingly creative.
Shane pulled a bar stool over to the side of the table so he could sit and watch without getting in the way while Al and I played first. He was messing around with the plastic triangle used for racking the balls, throwing it up in the air and catching it, until he dropped it with a clatter.
‘Stop fidgeting – you’re making me nervous,’ Al said angrily. ‘You lads go home if you want to. I can do this by myself.’
But he didn’t mean it. I knew he was glad that we were there with him.
We played pool until the pub started to get a bit busier, men and women coming in for a drink after their dinner, and there was a bit of a queue of people looking to use the table. We played one last game and we left. It was still early, just before eight o’clock, and far too bright for someone like Charlie Hanlon to be seen instructing three kids about a job.
Al wanted to go to Macari’s so we walked over there and waited outside while he went in and got a fish box and chips. I had a few euro in my pocket but I wasn’t hungry, although I still nicked a couple of chips on him when he offered. The smell of them was too good to resist.
Al was starving but he took his time eating, just so that he had something to do, and then we slowly walked back up towards the Towers, to the place where we had been told to meet. The lads smoked while we waited, passing the time, but they hadn’t brought any cans with them. Shane had a watch, kept checking it, updating us with the time every two minutes – seven minutes past, nine minutes past, eleven minutes past – until I had to ask him to stop.
But four minutes after Shane’s last update, at the exact time he said he would meet us, a black 4x4 Jeep pulled up across the road and Charlie Hanlon stepped out of the driver’s seat.
He was by himself again, and dressed almost identically to the way he had been the previous evening. His hair was slicked back with a lot of hair gel, shining like he had just got out of the shower and split into lines where he had run his comb through it. He wore two thick gold rings, one on either hand. This time, there was no friendly greeting, no chit-chat, no asking about Al’s family. Everything seemed a lot more business like. Professional.
‘All three of you,’ he said with a bit of surprise. ‘Very good. You have good friends, Alan.’ He didn’t ask us our names or who we were. There was an urgency in his voice as he gave us our instructions. ‘This is very simple, lads. A man is on his way here now with an important parcel for me. He’s expecting to meet one of my friends to deliver it but that friend is’ – he paused, which sounded very dodgy – ‘unfortunately unavailable this evening, which is why it’s great that you lads are kindly available to help me.
