The British Lion (23 page)

CHAPTER 29

A
NJA HAD BEEN
doing a lot of thinking for the last few hours. Time had ticked slowly in the little room where she had been stowed. She’d sat, hands tucked into her armpits for warmth, on an old office chair, trying to ignore the stare of the man sitting opposite her, breathing heavily through his nose even though his mouth was open.

All day she had tried not to think about her mother.

All day she had failed.

She had fought to push the sound of her mother’s voice, the sound of the shot, and the sound of the sordid splash of the river to the back of her mind as far as it would go.

But the memories wouldn’t stay there.

A minute later, or in the blink of an eye, she felt her mother’s fingers on her face, heard the shot, saw the light going out, and felt alone all over again.

She shook her head.

She couldn’t afford this, not now; there would be a time to grieve, but now wasn’t it.

Anja had studied the cast-iron-framed window and its dirty glass. The glass had a fine wire mesh running through it, and she doubted she could smash it and break through quickly enough to get away. Even if she did, she had no idea of what lay beyond. For all she knew she would be trapped in another room, or even find herself dropping into Sterling’s lap.

Whoever he was.

She thought about Sterling.

She knew that hearing his name had been a bad thing; she had read it in the faces of those around her when the policeman had blurted it out.

She knew what they were going to do with her.

They were going to kill her; they couldn’t afford to do anything else.

Unless she did something about it first.

Anja looked at the big man at the door, who stared back at her with slow blinks and a dull expression.

She smiled at him.

He blinked again.

She went back to looking at the window, trying to decide if the man at the door would be harder to get through than the glass in the frame.

There was a knock, the door opened, and Jack entered. He looked at Anja and then at the heavy.

“Sterling wants to see you in the yard at the back,” Jack said.

“Me?” said the mouth-breather.

“Yeah.”

“What about her?”

“I’m to wait with her.”

The mouth-breather looked at Jack, then at Anja, and then at Jack again before slowly unfolding his arms, uncertain.

“What does he want?”

“You.”

“In the yard?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s where he is.”

The mouth-breather frowned and stood up; he clenched one fist as he considered what Jack had said.

“He wants me now?” he finally said.

“Oh, for God’s sake . . . yes, he wants to see you now,” Jack said impatiently.

The mouth-breather looked at Anja again.

“Will she be all right?”

“She’s not going anywhere.”

“With you I mean. Will she be all right with you?”

“Yeah, she’s just a girl,” Jack replied, stepping back from the door and holding it open wider.

The mouth-breather scratched his top lip and then nodded.

“I won’t be long. Shout if you need me, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The mouth-breather left the room, and Jack shut the door behind him.

He quickly turned and rested his ear against it.

“Just a girl?” Anja said. Jack waved his hand at her to be quiet.

A second passed and it suddenly struck Anja what was going on. She leaned forward and the chair wobbled under her.

“What are you doing?”

Jack waved his hand once more, then opened the door an inch or two and looked out before turning back to Anja.

“I think they are going to kill you. We need—”

Anja was already out of her seat and crossing the room. She reached the door and dragged Jack to one side before sticking her head out into the corridor.

“Are you coming?” She turned to look at Jack, and he bit his lip and flicked his head to shift the hair out of his eyes.

“I don’t know.”

Anja was already off down the corridor on tiptoes, moving quickly on the scuffed and dusty concrete floor through the succession of glass doors that she had come through earlier.

She reached the final door and pulled it open an inch as Jack appeared next to her. Anja looked at him and he nodded.

He was coming.

She was about to step through when Jack placed a hand on her arm and pointed to his chest that he should go first. Anja frowned, shook free her arm, and set off quickly out of the office block and into the high-roofed warehouse, where the cars still sat some fifty feet away.

Jack followed her.

Anja looked over her shoulder at Jack and then pointed at the doors to the warehouse. He nodded and then indicated he was heading toward the cars. Anja ran across and pulled one of the doors open wide enough for a car to get through, then ran back to Jack, who was leaning through the driver’s window of one of the two cars. He emerged with some keys, held them up, and waved her over to the second car.

Anja heard the engine start and the passenger door opened just before she reached it. She leaned forward to look in; Jack smiled at her and revved the engine. His white teeth shone from his oily face, and he flicked his head again to shake off his fringe.

“You can drive this?”

“If I can fix ’em I can bleedin’ well drive ’em! Come on, let’s get out of here!”

Anja smiled and jumped in as Jack enthusiastically revved the engine.

The car stalled with a sudden jolt, and silence filled the warehouse.

They looked at each other and Jack’s smile disappeared. He started the car again and Anja looked over her shoulder through the back window.

Jack revved, the car jolted forward, the car stalled.

“Jack, please,” Anja said turning to look at him.

Jack flicked his hair again and looked down at his feet as he fired the engine, revved it fiercely, and then stalled again.

The door of the office block behind them opened and the mouth-breather emerged. He stared at the cars, unsure, before shouting back over his shoulder to the offices. Anja heard him call for help before he started to run toward them.

“Please, Jack,” Anja said, looking at the door of the car, trying to figure out how to lock it.

The car started once more and Jack looked at his feet again, revving the engine hard as the mouth-breather sped up to a sprint.

“Please!”

The car revved, seemed to dip, half stall and then revved again.

“Handbrake!” Anja shouted, realizing the problem.

His hands lifted off the wheel as he looked around for the lever; he fumbled down the side of his seat.

The mouth-breather made it to the rear door of the car on Anja’s side.

She heard the door handle rattling and she looked up into the dull eyes she’d been staring at all afternoon. The man pulled back his arm, balling a ham of a fist, making ready to punch through her window.

Anja closed her eyes.

The car shot forward, wheels spinning and screaming on the smooth concrete before they gripped with a squeal, then the car shot forward toward the exit.

The mouth-breather shouted.

Anja opened her eyes, already spinning in her seat to watch the mouth-breather through the back window. He reached around behind him, then brought a heavy pistol to bear.

The shot echoed around the warehouse.

The back window shattered in an explosion of glass. The gun boomed again and both Jack and Anja ducked low as they heard the round hit the bodywork.

The engine was screaming in first gear as they made their way toward the exit. Jack’s foot was hard down on the accelerator.

Anja had slipped down into the footwell, and she looked up to see Jack crouching, barely able to see over the steering wheel as he wrestled with it in both hands.

Another shot, then another. The car jerked left, bounced up hard into the air and then down again. There was a crash of scraping metal and then they jerked right, this time less violently. Anja braced herself with a hand under the dashboard as they hit a curb. Finally Jack remembered second gear and shifted with a crunch.

Anja heard another shot, and then she realized they were outside the warehouse.

Jack whooped and looked down at her.

“Did you see that? Did you? Oh wow! Ha ha!”

Anja smiled, then found herself laughing as Jack selected another gear and the car picked up speed. She pulled herself up and looked behind her.

The back window was shot through; it was almost completely shattered, giving her a clear view of the road.

The snow was thick on the road, and all around them were high, dark buildings that looked like more warehouses. She turned to look out the front window and saw there were two bullet holes in it.

Jack fumbled with some switches and eventually the headlamps came on. There were no other vehicles around and the warehouses looked empty. Jack slowed slightly, skidded in the snow around a corner, pushing and pulling the big steering wheel, then accelerated again.

“Where are we?” Anja shouted over the noise of the engine and the wind blowing through the broken windows, glancing at Jack and then craning to look up at the buildings as they went past.

“We’re out east.” He looked at Anja and noted her confused face. “The East End of London. Miles from anywhere, really. I need to get you to the center, near to the ring of steel where you’ll be safe, see if we can find some Germans and hand you over.”

“Thank you,” Anja said. Jack looked across and smiled.

“It ain’t nothing. I couldn’t leave you, could I?”

Anja smiled back and ran her hand through her hair. She opened the window, lifting her head to the onrushing wind.

Enjoying the freedom and the fresh air, letting it intoxicate her.

She closed her eyes and laughed, shaking her head, feeling the chill on her cheeks. She opened her eyes and looked at Jack, shouting over the wind, “What are you going to do?”

“Get you to safety, like I said.”

“No, after that. What are you going to do?”

Jack glanced at her and then back to the road.

“I’ll think of something. I don’t know, something will turn up.” He smiled at her again, a little less brightly than before.

Anja frowned, turned her head to the wind again for a second, then closed the window halfway.

“My father will help you. He’s a good man, he’ll help you.”

Jack nodded, wanting to believe Anja.

They drove in silence for a few minutes, slight shock setting in.

It was Jack who noticed the wobble in the car’s steering, moments before Anja did. She looked at him and saw that the steering wheel was shaking in his hands.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know, it’s like . . . I don’t know,” Jack replied as the shaking grew worse and he had to slow the car to compensate.

A sudden loud rhythmic banging began. It felt as if it was coming up under Anja’s feet. The wheel was dodging right and left in Jack’s hands, at least four inches either way.

He pulled into the curb, and as the car drew to a halt Anja saw that Jack was unable to stop the wheel turning. The whole car seemed to weave before hitting the pavement and finally bouncing up onto it.

Jack was out of the car in a flash.

Anja pulled the handle on her door to get out but found that it wouldn’t move. She scooted across to the driver’s side and followed Jack out onto the street, then around to the damaged side of the car.

She didn’t have to be a mechanic to see the problem.

The front passenger side wheel was leaning into the wheel arch drunkenly, at well over a twenty-degree angle.

The wheel arch and front door were gouged, a deep two-inch-wide scar that had exposed the silver metal underneath.

Anja instinctively looked back to where they had just come from, then crouched down with Jack to inspect the damage more closely.

“I’ll jack up the car and have a look,” Jack said uncertainly.

“We haven’t time,” replied Anja, already looking back down the road for any cars that might be following.

“I think the front spring has snapped; it must have happened when I hit the wall.”

“What wall?” Anja looked at Jack, who pointed at the gouge in the side of the car.

“That wall.”

She nodded, then stood up.

“Let’s find a telephone and call the police.”

Jack looked up at her.

“You met the police this morning. They are what got you into this in the first place. We can’t trust them. Anyway, there won’t be a phone round here for miles. Let’s see how far we get on this wheel. I think I know a place that will help us.”

Anja looked at the car uncertainly and then nodded.

She didn’t have much choice.

THEY BARELY MANAGE
D
to extract another mile out of the car before the wheel gave up the ghost. It slammed up into the arch with a crash and a lurch and they skidded to a halt on a deserted street just south of Stratford.

There was no point in inspecting the car when they got out. They abandoned it in the middle of the road and took off holding hands, running along a side street that was silent and lit by dirty yellow streetlamps.

“Do you know where we are?” Anja said as they slowed to a walk. She was looking at the darkened houses that sat squat and orange bricked on either side of the narrow street. All drawn curtains and smoking chimneys.

Jack didn’t answer but kept walking, a half step in front of Anja, leading her forward by her hand.

“Maybe we should knock at a house and ask for help?” Anja tried again.

“Just keep walking.”

“Where are we going?

Jack stopped. “It don’t matter where we are going, all right? We’re just putting distance between us and them.”

“But they don’t have a car. We took their keys.”

“How long do you think it would take for my boss to get that other car going? He’s been a mechanic all his bleedin’ life; he could start that old thing with a spoon. He’ll try to take his time, but sooner or later they’ll be after us.”

Anja turned and looked down the street they had walked along. She saw tracks in the snow, dark shadows, a record of every step.