Sottopassaggio (24 page)

Tom's eyes flick towards the car again, so I grab Jenny's arm and start to manhandle her towards the door.

“Now let's just slow things down…” Tom says.

Nick jerks right, leaping over the bonnet of his car, but Tom is as fast and skips sideways so the end result is the same. They have simply swapped sides, only Tom now has his back to the Mini.

“Slow things down,” he says again breathlessly. There is definitely a note of sarcasm in his voice. As if he finds this all slightly amusing.

I push Jenny into the back seat of the Mini. Tears are rolling down her cheeks, but she seemingly resigns herself to leaving.

I look back at Tom who, behind his back, is making a screwdriver gesture. I edge towards the driver's door, and glance inside but can see no tools, nothing resembling a weapon whatsoever.

I glance back at Tom and see Nick's eyes swivel towards me. I see him realise what's happening.

“Jenny, get
out
of the car!” he shouts. “JENNY! GET OUT OF THE FUCKING CAR!”

Tom glances behind to see where we're at, but as he does, Nick lurches towards him, higher than I would have imagined possible, and reaching across the top of the BMW, he manages to swipe and grasp the end of Tom's tie.

“Ha!” he laughs madly. “Fucker!”

Tom struggles against the side of the car but Nick has him in a noose. He drags him sideways, then, down over the bonnet. Finally he winches him in.

Tom glances back at me. His eyes look terrified, but as I start to move back towards him, he says, “Will you
please
, just start the fucking engine?”

I freeze. I could almost cry at my stupidity. The screwdriver gesture was an ignition key. I get in the driver's seat.
Could Tom really have a plan? Could there really be a way for him to get out of this unscathed?

I turn the key, over-revving the engine as it starts, then check the gears, feel for the pedals, and lean across the passenger seat to survey the two men.

Jenny is peering from the back window.

She says, “Mark. He'll kill him; do something. Really, he'll kill him.”

Nick swaps his grip on Tom's tie from the right to the left hand.

Tom glances back at me, nodding maniacally. “Be
ready,” he says.

I shake my head in disbelief. I'm trembling and tears of rage are pushing from the corners of my eyes.

“How the fuck?” I say. I push on the accelerator and rev the engine again.

Tom turns back to Nick, who is now holding him mere inches from his own face.

“Nick! Listen,” Tom says.

Nick's right hand collides with the side of his face. Not a punch, but a heavy slap, clearly the first of many. Nick has decided to enjoy himself.

Tom stumbles sideways, but Nick pulls him back up by the tie, winding it further around his hand.

“Nick, you're making me
really
fucking angry,” Tom says.

Whack
! Nick's hand slaps Tom's head sideways.

Jenny starts to sit forward, but I push the front seat down locking her in place.

“He'll hurt him!” she says, dissolving into sobs. “He'll really…”

“I'm OK!” Tom shouts.

Nick laughs. “Are you?” he says, slapping him again. “
Are you
?”

I shake my head. “This is
bullshit
,” I say, starting to stand.

But Tom raises a hand towards me. It's as clear as can be – a stop sign.

“I give in,” Tom tells Nick. “You win. Listen…”

As he says this Tom steps backwards and Nick follows. Tom's back is only a few meters away from the rear of the Mini.

Tom raises his hands to Nick's chest, and grips his lapels. And suddenly I know what is about to happen. Suddenly I know what Tom is about to do. I've seen this before. I've been here before.

I slide back into the driver's seat, test the pedals, and glance nervously down the close. Then I lean over and look back up at Tom.

Tom gives a huge grunt, and, with all his might, he
pushes Nick away.

Nick's arms extend, leaving a meter between the two men, but he maintains his grasp on Tom's tie and even laughs.

“Oh no you don't,” he grunts.

Jenny is fumbling for the lever to release the seat, so I push her back again.

As I glance back up, I see Tom give a final groaning push against Nick's chest.

“Here it comes,”
I think, starting to grin, starting to will him on.

I see his head withdraw; I see him lower his forehead. He aims it at Nick like a bull about to charge.

“Yes!”
I think. I look on with admiration, willing him to success.

At the perfect moment, Tom stops pushing against Nick's chest and simultaneously places a leg behind and throws himself forwards. Nick is pulling as hard as he can on Tom's tie, his own force combining with Tom's forward lurch.

Tom's head moves forward so fast, it blurs. As it meets Nick's nose there is a gruesome crunch. Blood spurts forth. I gasp.

Nick reels backwards, using Tom's tie to steady himself, but then he releases his grip, totters backwards and collapses like a toddler onto the ground. He raises a hand to his face, to the blood gushing from his nose.

He stares madly at his red hand, then up at us, then back at his hand. He looks astonished, cross-eyed, stunned.

Tom spins towards the car but his city shoes slip on the grass and he loses his balance, one leg shooting out at a mad angle across the lawn.

“Tom!” I scream, “Come on!” My voice is hoarse with terror. For Nick is already moving onto all fours, already staggering to his feet.

As Tom scrabbles towards the open door, I push Jenny back into her seat again.

“Fucking sit still!” I shout at her.

I put the car into first and glance in front, to check the way is still clear.

Jenny turns nervously and peers through the back window again. “No!” she wails. “Tom!”

As Tom reaches the car, just as he starts to fold into the seat, Nick, now standing reaches inside his denim jacket and starts to pull something out.

He lurches towards the car, and in a single swinging movement removes an iron bar – a wheel-nut wrench I realise – from inside his jacket.

Tom is almost in the car, but just as he throws a leg inside, just as he tips sideways to drop into the seat, his head dips left and moves into the arc of the swinging wrench. It barely seems to touch him.

“
GO
!” Tom screams.

I rev the poor engine to death, and jerkily drop the clutch, and at the very instant Tom gets his other leg inside we lurch off across the close.

Jenny is screaming, so I glance in the rear-view mirror expecting to see Nick running after us, but he is just standing in the middle of the street clutching his nose.

As we swing around the bend, I glance left just in time to see him sink to his knees.

Struggling to see – my vision seems blurred – and trembling with fear, I drive a few hundred yards to the end of the close, then pull out onto the open road.

“Mark!” Tom shouts. “Change gear!”

Suddenly aware of the screaming engine, I change into second. “Sorry,” I say.

A little way up the road, I pull into a bus stop. I put the handbrake on and look around the car, speechless.

With the exception of her cheeks, Jenny is white as a sheet; her face glistens with tears.

“Christ!” I say. Is everyone OK?” I ask.

“I'm so sorry,” Jenny gasps.

I look at Tom. “And you, Tom?” I say. “Are you
OK?”

Tom shakes his head then laughs. “Jees!” he says. “I think so.”

I exhale heavily and raise a hand to my mouth. Tom places his left hand on the dashboard. It glistens with blood, thick and dark.

“Tom! Your hand!” I say.

Tom frowns at me, and then slowly lifts his hand and stares at it uncomprehendingly, slowly turning it from side to side.

He raises his hand again and touches the side of his head. When he brings it back into view it is darker still. The blood is dripping off it onto his lap.

“Shit!” he says. “He got me. That arsehole got me!”

I lean over and grasp his chin, turning his head towards me. The blood is flowing fast and free, a widening river, glistening black and sliding down his neck forming an obscene stain reaching from his collar to his shoulder.

“I'll be OK,” Tom says. “Drive on.”

I shake my head. “Tom, it's…” I swallow hard. “It's bad,” I say.

Tom frowns at me then glances down at his shoulder. When he turns back to me he looks visibly paler, tinged with green.

“Mark?” he says, his voice wobbling. “I need you to… I don't feel quite… I think I'm going to...” His head slumps.

“Tom!” Jenny cries.

Only his seatbelt is holding him upright. My mouth drops. I stare at him.

“Tom,” I say touching his leg and leaning over. “
Tom
?”

“What's wrong with him?” Jenny says.

I shake my head.

“What's wrong with Tom?” Jenny asks again.

“I don't know,” I say.

“Think,” I say.

Jenny grabs Tom's shoulder and shakes him.
“Tom?” she weeps.

“We need a hospital,” I say.

Jenny shakes Tom's shoulder again.

“JENNY!” I scream. “LEAVE HIM. Just tell me where the
fucking
hospital is.”

Jenny stares blankly at me, and then, as if someone has clicked a switch, as if she has suddenly changed modes, she leans down between the two seats, and peers out through the windscreen, getting her bearings.

“Do a u-turn,” she says quietly, almost mechanically. “Go down to the lights and turn right. It's at the end of the road.”

I sip hot chocolate from the vending machine and nervously watch the door. It has crossed my mind that there is probably no more likely place to bump into Nick than the local casualty ward, and the idea of facing him alone terrifies me.

My left ear is swollen and painful where Nick boxed me, and my right ear hurts too with a different kind of throbbing sting. I apparently bashed it when I fell against the Mini.

“At least I'll be symmetrical,” I think.

Jenny is the first to reappear, advancing along the corridor like a fragile old lady. As she reaches me I stand and open my arms.

“Jenny,” I say.

We hug perfunctorily, and she stands back and smiles weakly.

“Nothing broken,” she says. “Just bruises.”

“And the baby?” I ask.

Jenny nods. “The baby's fine. Apparently she's a tough little critter.”

“She?” I repeat. It's the first time Jenny has mentioned the baby's sex.

Jenny nods. “I forgot to tell the nurse not to tell me…” she shrugs. “So now we know.”

I hug her again. “I'm so glad,” I say.

“Tom's fine too,” Jenny adds.

I push her away and look at her face. Against my will, tears slide from my eyes.

“Oh!” I gasp. “I was so worried,” I say. “I haven't had any news at all.”

Jenny smiles and bites her lip. “I saw him on the way out. Insulting the nurse.”

I frown. “Really?”

Jenny nods. “They're stitching his head. Apparently it hurts like fuck.”

I laugh tearfully. “Poor Tom.”

Jenny nods. Her eyes are shining too.

“He was amazing!” I say.

Jenny nods, soberly. “Yeah,” she says, “he was.
Truly
amazing.”

At the sound of the sliding doors we turn to see a policeman enter. Jenny frowns, first at him, then at me.

I shrug. “The nurse said she would have to notify the police,” I say.

Jenny crosses her eyes and sighs. “Shit,” she says.

“You better think about whether you want to press charges,” I say.

Jenny shakes her head. “I
so
don't want to go there,” she says. “But I guess it's not only for me to decide.”

It's 6pm by the time we leave the police station.

Jenny and Tom have negotiated a compromise. They have made an official complaint in the
Daybook
, without actually pressing charges. It means that Nick doesn't need to find out, yet a record of the event exists, just in case.

Jenny requests, then demands that I take her to her mother's house. She even tries shouting into my ear from the rear seat, but I ignore her and head towards home.

Eventually it is Tom who silences her. “Jenny, do you have
any
idea how much that hurts my head?” he says. “Now shut it.”

Jenny glares at me in the rear-view mirror.

By the time we hit the M25 Jenny has slumped out of sight on the rear seat, and Tom's head is starting to loll

I feel utterly shattered myself; it's hard to raise the level of concentration required to drive Tom's car down the correct side of the road to Brighton, but, well, someone has to do it.

I lower the volume, and turn on the CD player.

Tom awakens just long enough to hit the CD changer button.

Van Morrison
fades away to be replaced by
Everything
But The Girl
. The album is
Idlewild
, my favourite.

I smile at Tom, but he has already closed his eyes.

I fidget in my seat and settle in for the drive.

As we turn onto the M23 the light is fading. I fiddle and find the headlights. The clocks on the dashboard produce a warm orange glow.

I glance behind to check on Jenny and smile at the sight of her asleep with her mouth open.

It's a cold greeny-grey colour outside, but we're all safe and sound and heading home. I'm taking my friends home.

I glance over at Tom. His poor bandaged head is rolling from side to side as I drive.

A wave of love for my two sleeping passengers washes over me, making me scrunch up my eyes against the pressure of tears.