Goodnight, John-boy: Chapter 13
Dave and his new buddy Scott discuss plans for revenge in a cafe.
Welcome to Book Two of my dark comedy thriller series, Read Em And Weep.
A new chapter of Goodnight, John-Boy drops every week – sign up for free so you don’t miss it!
If you’re new to the Read Em And Weep series, start with Book One: Serial Killer.
IT WAS NEARLY two decades since Dave had seen Mrs Czar in that solemn procession, as the Virgin Soldiers, including his mother, escorted the Canon through the streets to the King Edward VIII docks. Even from a distance, as he saw her exiting the Jensen, he could see she was still the elegant and radiant woman he had once admired from afar, as a boy.
He could just imagine her fragrant perfume wafting towards him now. He recalled it from when he had made deliveries as an errand boy, and had packages for her husband, the coroner. Her chic Georgian townhouse was filled with her subtle but exquisite scent. Dressed in his fishtail parka, with his desert boots and red socks, ready for when he was old enough to be a true mod and drive a scooter, he would wait in the hallway for Mrs Czar to sign his signature book, his boyhood admiration now giving way to teenage lust.
He would listen intently for the swish of her black nylons rubbing against each other, as she approached him, noting just the very slightest hint of a sag in her stockings at the knees, and imagining how they were held up, as she walked towards him in her tight black pencil skirt, set off nicely by the crispest white blouse, and–
He wondered what she was doing with Keen right now. And whether there was any chance their paths would ever cross in the future?
‘Dave?’ said Scott. ‘Dave! Are you listening? Are you following what I’m saying?’
They were continuing their conversation in a nearby café, a few streets back from the Thames. The place was trying to attract tourists visiting the Tower of London close-by, so it had a knights in armour theme.
‘Sure,’ said Dave. ‘You said you hate all this knights and chivalry crap.’
Scott looked around at the various faux-medieval artefacts and tapestries on the wall. ‘It’s a pathetic lie for sad bastards. The dragons should have slain them all.’
‘I take it the “party-goers” were Knights of St Pancras?’
‘Some. Wanting me to be their “squire”, their “boy companion”. You should see what they wanted me to wear. Perverts. I fucking hate them. Others were toffs. And Fab loaned us out to the canvas shoe brigade, as well.’
‘Who?’
‘Yachties. We were taken on boat rides as a “special treat”. But if you fight back, they say you’ll go over the side.’
‘So what can you do?’
‘I’ll show you.’ Scott looked cautiously around. ‘I’ll wait until a lorry goes by.’ After several minutes, two lorries thundered by, but the boy still hesitated. ‘Sorry. No good. Not in me. Has to be a genuine threat to work. Anyway, you’d be arrested.’
‘For what?’
‘The howl.’
‘The howl?’
‘It’s the most piercing, deathlike howl you ever heard. On a really weird frequency. I’ve no control over it. Just came out of me. Freaked out Reliant Scimitar. Made him back off.’
‘Sounds like a primal scream. Or shamanic scream.’ Dave had read Janov’s book on the subject when he was trying to understand his father’s mental illness. ‘An animal howl. Keeps predators at bay. Didn’t know it worked.’
‘Once. Can’t do it again.’
‘So what happened the next time?’
‘The next time I bit Vanden Plas’s ear. And spat in Mantis’s face.’ Scott grinned. ‘They didn’t like that. Threatened to drug me, so then I had to make the best of it with Cobra. But, you know, there are still other ways kids can put these bastards off …’
Dave looked at him blankly.
‘Poor hygiene. Hey – they fight dirty, so why shouldn’t we?’
Dave nodded. ‘I’ve seen how resourceful kids can be.’
‘You don’t know the half of it,’ grinned Scott. He looked meaningfully at Dave who had no idea what he getting at. Scott considered enlightening him, then changed his mind. ‘Let’s put it this way – I didn’t feel the “discomfort” he did.’ He smirked as he remembered. ‘So they don’t choose me anymore.’
‘I’ve got to get going,’ said Dave. ‘And you should, too. Don’t they have a curfew or something?’
Scott shrugged indifferently. ‘Anyway, I never really understood what you were doing in Keen’s apartment. Apart from trying to blow up his comptometer?’
Dave patted his sports bag. ‘Borrowing his Spanish Inquisition robes. Hot date. I hope.’
Scott looked impressed. ‘That takes balls. I reckon we could bring this off together.’
Dave got up. ‘Yeah, we need to work out a plan. Next time, Scott.’
‘It’s him or us, Dave. Kill or be killed. There’s no other way. So we’ll meet up again very soon?’
‘Absolutely. Definitely. You bet.’ Scott looked coldly up at him.
‘What’s the matter?’ asked Dave, noting the boy’s sudden change of expression.
‘That’s three positives, Dave. I’m starting to doubt you.’
‘I … I thought that rule only applied to negatives?’ Dave protested.
Scott looked suspiciously at him. ‘Are you for real, Dave, or are you full of shit like everybody else?’
‘Well I …’
‘Are you on our side or not?’
‘For sure. You got it. One hundred per cent.’
Goodnight, John-boy is the first book in the Read Em And Weep series and is on sale digitally or as paperback.