question. The idea had never really crossed my mind.
And if I ended up not being a patched guy, what would life be like? On the outside I mean.
Bloke s who left clubs had usually been kicked out in bad standing, stripped of their colours and made to have their club tattoos inked out if they were lucky, removed if they weren’t.
Guys did retire from clubs as well of course, older members who decided that they couldn’t keep up the lifestyle any longer could apply to hang up the colours. And if they were of good standing then they might get the club’s permission, have a retired date added to their club tattoo and off they went. Of course if you ever did retire then you were never really free of the club. You inhabited a sort of twilight world, not a member, so not part of the club or any longer enjoying the respect a patch holder would expect as a right. But you were still always tied to the club and expected to support, never knowing when some of the guys might decide to descend on you in need of a bed for the night or a meal or a drink. Your position was always a bit uncertain, depending on how well respected you had been within the club before you left, and how powerful your remaining mates within the club were and how far they could or would go to protect you.
Unless you broke away completely that was. Started again somewhere far away where you were free from the influence. And to do that either took dosh, serious dosh that we just didn ’t have and I could see no way in hell of getting, or meant turning grass and getting the plod to look after you and I was fucked if that was a way I was going to go.
The door opened.
‘Hi Dazza!’ I said looking up. He was a surprise visitor. Sharon’s eyes fell.
And then it was too late
She had been right. I had had a choice. But I think it had just walked out the door.
‘ Not interrupting am I?’ he asked, pushing open the door and walking in.
‘ Dazza mate, no, course not, good to see ya.’
‘ Hello Dazza,’ Sharon said turning to him.
Sh e made her excuses and left us together, ‘I guess you guys’ll have loads to talk about so I’ll get off now then. See ya later.’
‘ OK love, see ya then,’ I said as she leant over and kissed me.
‘ See ya Dazza.’
‘ See ya,’ he grunted. ‘Good looking bird that of yours,’ he said to me approvingly as the door closed behind her, ‘you’re a lucky bastard really aren’t ya mate?’
‘ Thanks, if you say so.’
He pulled up the chair that she had just vacated, sat down next to my bed, asked me how I was, and gave me the news of how it had panned out. The antis had lost of course, outnumbered there had been little doubt about how that would end. Gut and the rest had eventually all been hunted down and had the patches stripped off their backs. They had been forced to agree to disband their remnants of the club.
‘ But I’m not just here for that.’
I raised an eyebrow inquisitively. It was about the only bit of me that could move without hurting.
‘Yeah. I need to clear some shit up with you. Stuff from way back when. It’s stuff that we can’t have in the way between us or hanging around going forwards.’
I tensed. I didn’t know what was coming here. He could only be talking about when I’d gone clean five years ago. He sat calmly in his chair, as self-possessed and quietly menacing as ever with his dark charisma. I looked straight at him.
‘ Well I can guess what this is about.’
‘ Can you?’ he smiled. ‘It might not be what you think.’
‘ Look,’ he leaned forwards, his voice dropping in tone, his eyes boring into me. ‘You think I’m fucked off about you walking out on me back then after Gyppo snuffed it. Am I right?’
I met and held his gaze without flinching. Whatever was coming was coming and I would have to deal with it, whatever state I was in, hospital bed or no hospital bed. I shrugged. ‘Yeah, I always wondered why you didn’t give me more grief about it then.
And if I ended up not being a patched guy, what would life be like? On the outside I mean.
Bloke s who left clubs had usually been kicked out in bad standing, stripped of their colours and made to have their club tattoos inked out if they were lucky, removed if they weren’t.
Guys did retire from clubs as well of course, older members who decided that they couldn’t keep up the lifestyle any longer could apply to hang up the colours. And if they were of good standing then they might get the club’s permission, have a retired date added to their club tattoo and off they went. Of course if you ever did retire then you were never really free of the club. You inhabited a sort of twilight world, not a member, so not part of the club or any longer enjoying the respect a patch holder would expect as a right. But you were still always tied to the club and expected to support, never knowing when some of the guys might decide to descend on you in need of a bed for the night or a meal or a drink. Your position was always a bit uncertain, depending on how well respected you had been within the club before you left, and how powerful your remaining mates within the club were and how far they could or would go to protect you.
Unless you broke away completely that was. Started again somewhere far away where you were free from the influence. And to do that either took dosh, serious dosh that we just didn ’t have and I could see no way in hell of getting, or meant turning grass and getting the plod to look after you and I was fucked if that was a way I was going to go.
The door opened.
‘Hi Dazza!’ I said looking up. He was a surprise visitor. Sharon’s eyes fell.
And then it was too late
She had been right. I had had a choice. But I think it had just walked out the door.
‘ Not interrupting am I?’ he asked, pushing open the door and walking in.
‘ Dazza mate, no, course not, good to see ya.’
‘ Hello Dazza,’ Sharon said turning to him.
Sh e made her excuses and left us together, ‘I guess you guys’ll have loads to talk about so I’ll get off now then. See ya later.’
‘ OK love, see ya then,’ I said as she leant over and kissed me.
‘ See ya Dazza.’
‘ See ya,’ he grunted. ‘Good looking bird that of yours,’ he said to me approvingly as the door closed behind her, ‘you’re a lucky bastard really aren’t ya mate?’
‘ Thanks, if you say so.’
He pulled up the chair that she had just vacated, sat down next to my bed, asked me how I was, and gave me the news of how it had panned out. The antis had lost of course, outnumbered there had been little doubt about how that would end. Gut and the rest had eventually all been hunted down and had the patches stripped off their backs. They had been forced to agree to disband their remnants of the club.
‘ But I’m not just here for that.’
I raised an eyebrow inquisitively. It was about the only bit of me that could move without hurting.
‘Yeah. I need to clear some shit up with you. Stuff from way back when. It’s stuff that we can’t have in the way between us or hanging around going forwards.’
I tensed. I didn’t know what was coming here. He could only be talking about when I’d gone clean five years ago. He sat calmly in his chair, as self-possessed and quietly menacing as ever with his dark charisma. I looked straight at him.
‘ Well I can guess what this is about.’
‘ Can you?’ he smiled. ‘It might not be what you think.’
‘ Look,’ he leaned forwards, his voice dropping in tone, his eyes boring into me. ‘You think I’m fucked off about you walking out on me back then after Gyppo snuffed it. Am I right?’
I met and held his gaze without flinching. Whatever was coming was coming and I would have to deal with it, whatever state I was in, hospital bed or no hospital bed. I shrugged. ‘Yeah, I always wondered why you didn’t give me more grief about it then.
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