Deadfolk by Charlie Williams Page A

told us what he had in mind.
    ‘Burn the place down?’ says I.
    ‘Aye. And you’re the torch.’
    ‘Hang on, hang on—’
    ‘Can’t hang on too long. You’re doin’ it, Blakey.’
    ‘But…Lee, this is Hoppers. You can’t very well burn down Hoppers. Iss…’
    ‘I’ll tell you what it is. Worth more to us burnt down than stood up is what it is.’
    ‘But, Lee, you can’t.’
    ‘Right. I can’t. So you do it.’
    And so it were to be.
    The date were planned for the Thursday night a week hence, which were a stripping night. Lee’s thinking were that coppers and insurance folk would point the finger at local opposition, there being a backward element in Mangel what reckoned a bird oughtn’t to be exploited in such a way as they was at Hoppers. That’s how his thinking went anyhow. Can’t say I’d ever met any such folk meself.
    Well, the night came. I started it as I always done, standing by the door. I weren’t being as friendly with folks as were my custom. It weren’t only impending commitments playing on my nerves. There was other matters getting us down and all. One of em—the main one, perhaps—were that I’d not been getting on too brightly with Beth of late. Like any happily married couple, we’d had our ups and downs. But you know how it goes. It gets to the point where the downs just keeps on going down, making up for all the ups you had at the start.
    Anyhow, them was the sorts of worries that nagged at us as I stood there at the door of Hoppers that night. To cut a long un short, I weren’t feeling up to the task in hand. Torching Hoppers were a big job, and one which demanded the kind of juice that frankly weren’t in us. So I took a young feller aside, showed him a few twenties, and asked him to get it done for us.
    Finney being Finney, he accepted the task with nary a moment’s reflection. Said he’d do it for nothing, twat that he were. But seeing as I had the money out ready and all, he took it. Come back a couple hours after closing, I says to him.
    Getting that sorted had no end of a soothing effect on me nerves. I were able to spend the rest of the night being my usual self—cheerful and up for a laugh, but any trouble and I’ll have you, mate. Even had a couple of pints and caught some of the show. Sally were up there that night, skin all oiled up and glistening under the spotlights. She’d only been working there a few weeks. Course, she were Baz Munton’s bird then. But when a feller lets his bird go up on stage like that and show off her wares, he’s asking for trouble. I dunno how long I watched her for. Got to feeling like no one else were there, it did. Just me with me lager, and her up there dancing for us. Things’d be all right soon, I recalled thinking.
    After lock-up I went out to the car park, trying not to think about the future too much. Just get this out the way first. Burn Hoppers down, collect me torch fee from Lee, and see what happens. Only problem were that the Capri wouldn’t start.
    I had me swede under that bonnet for half an hour. Can’t recall what the trouble were. You knows what Capris is like. I went back inside and rang Beth. Get some kit on, I says, it being late and her in bed and all. If I were still stuck in fifteen minutes, I told her, she’d be hearing another ring from us. Else she could go back to her kip. True to form, she hurled thirty seconds of complaint down the line, studded with words choice enough to have a bull terrier blushing purple. I shrugged and hung up. I knew she’d come if I asked her, just so she’d have a reason to get at us for the next few days. She’d fucking better. Finney’d soon be here with a tank of paraffin and a lighter.
    But then the car started, so I never called her back.
    I took one last look around the place, made sure the door were unlocked for Finney, then hared off home.
    When I got there I cracked open a can and sat down a while, thinking how lucky I were that Beth were sound akip. I