Chapter Two: A Mission

Bloody leg. Wouldn’t stay still. They’re gonna notice soon, how could they not? It’s jigging up and down like an out of control piston.

Baz had another swig of his pint. Ronnie had gone for a piss and Jack was scrolling on his phone for a minute. They’d had a few pints. But he felt okay. And the banter was great.

—Blimey, things are gettin worse.

—How d’yer mean?

—Every time I look at the news.

—Don’t look. I don’t, pisses me off too much.

—Ah yeah, good plan. So, you were in the army? Northern Ireland an’ that, I’m guessing?

—Yeah.

—Bloody hell, not nice eh?

—Nah, it got a bit lively at times.

—Here he is, the old fart.

—Fuck off you. You’re nearly as old as me, innit?

—Nearly, mate. See how that works?

—Ha.

—‘Ow old are you Baz?

—61, Ronnie.

—Young fella, same as him then.

—Ronnie is fuckin ancient, Baz.

—Oi!

—I’m the ripe old age of 63, mate.

—That Maeve likely calls this the “old farts” table then with us three sittin here.

They all laughed. Baz thought it was great.

—Right, s’pose I’d better be gettin off. Need me beauty sleep.

—Ronnie? It ain’t working, mate. You’re still ugly as fuck.

—Hahaha! Says Jack the stud. Cheeky bugger.

—I’m the handsome one, here. You two have got lived-in faces.

He said it and didn’t worry too much. These two didn’t seem to mind a bit of slagging. He was right. They roared laughing.

—Fuck me! I’m glad yer here, Baz, mate. He’s a boring old git.

—Ronnie? Yer gums are bumpin again, nobody can work out what yer saying, Jack was grinning his head off.

—Right, I’m off, are yer comin in tomorrow Baz? This bloody drunkard will likely drag me in.

—Er, yeah, can be. Sunday and all that.

—Right, see yers here then.

They said their goodbyes and Ronnie left. Jack finished his pint and stood as well.

—I live next door to a lass called Sarah Angel and her daughter Sally. Said I’d fix their cupboard door. So, I’d better be off an’ all.

—Righto mate, good to meet yer.

—Likewise, see yer tomorrow.

All of a sudden, Baz felt a weight in his chest. Weird. He was used to be alone. But this time? It felt different. He finished his own pint and took the glasses back up for Maeve.

Stepping back onto the street, he blinked. It was bloody bright out there. He walked back towards his flat.

A group of young fellas came out of the top end of Brick Lane. They were laughing at him. He was sure of it. Might be his Pistols t-shirt. Or his cargo shorts. Maybe them. But they were laughing. At him. He got ready. He could take two of them. They weren’t very big, so he’d smash the nearest two. A flex of the fingers. Yeah, ready. Smash ‘em. They’re coming…

The lads walked past. Slagging everythin. But they ignored him. Like he wasn’t there. Straight past, they went. He released his knuckles, and flexed his fingers. He’d been gripping tight. Ready.

For fuck’s sake, what was he like? Not everyone was a threat. Even if it felt like they were.

—Oi, Baz!

He jumped and swung around. Ah, Mr Singh from the local shop. A nice fella. His daughter, Maya, helped him out with his phone. Good with computers an’ that she was.

—Ah, Sanjay, alright mate?

—yeah, very good, mate. How are you?

—Good, ta. How’s the family?

—Great, also. But I wanted to ask you something.

—Fire away, mate.

—Maya. She’s been getting a bit of bother from lads.

Baz bristled. Fuckers. He weren’t having that.

—Where?

—You know she goes to Mile End, yeah?

—I do, yeah.

—When she’s coming home.

—Right—

—Could you mind out for her if you are around? I know you have work—

—What time does she walk home?

—usually about five, Baz.

—Right, I should be able to most nights apart from Thursday.

—Don’t go out of your way, Baz. Just if you’re around.

—Absolutely no bother, Sanjay. I’ll make sure she is safe.

—Ah, thank you Baz. She’ll kill me for mentioning it so make out like you happened to be there, okay?

—Yep, no worries.

—I’ll sort you out in the shop when you’re next in—

—Don’t worry about that, mate. Happy to help.

—Cheers, Baz! See ya in a bit.

Sanjay hurried off up the road. Baz let himself into the flat. He’d have to jemmy a window open, it was like a furnace. He nodded to himself. Happy days. He had a new tasking. Maya would be fine.

His phone buzzed. Blimey. That was rare. A WhatsApp. Talking of Maya, she’d set him up on it. But a number he didn’t recognise, wait though. Ronnie. It said Ronnie.

Mate, it’s Ronnie Marsden. I thought I’d share our numbers with you. Jack is shit with technology so I told him to leave it to the wizard.

Hahaha! Gold. He loved that.

Ah, hiya mate. I think by messaging back you can add me as a contact.

He thought that was what Maya told him. The next thing that happened? He got added to a group called the Three Amigos. Him, Jack and Ronnie. Cool, that’d be good.

Jack: Fuck me, I can’t get rid of the bloke, Baz

Ronnie: I have to remind you you’re still alive, you grumpy old fucker.

Baz: You pair chatting shit again?

They all adding laughing emojis.