Rant by Alfie Crow Page B

to think. To be honest, I was pretty much reaching the point where I was incapable of thought.
    I noticed Sam was frowning at me.
    â€˜We’re having a baby,’ I said to Sam.
    â€˜Yes, I know,’ said Anna, ‘I just told you that. I want to know how you feel about it.’
    â€˜Is she alright?’ Sam asked, impatiently.
    â€˜Fine, yeah, okay, I think,’ I said to Sam.
    â€˜Is that all you can say?’ Anna shouted, ‘You feel fine about it? You think?’
    â€˜No, I was talking to Sam,’ I told Anna.
    â€˜Who?’ said Anna.
    â€˜A friend,’ I said. Sam laughed. ‘He’s a, er, agent, who’s helping me.’
    â€˜You’ve got some acting work?’ asked Anna. ‘That’s great. What with the baby and everything.’
    â€˜What?’ I asked.
    â€˜Don’t tell her I’m an agent, for God’s sake!’ hissed Sam.
    â€˜You said you’re with your agent,’ said Anna.
    â€˜Piss off,’ I said to Sam.
    â€˜What?’ bawled Anna, and began to cry.
    â€˜Not you,’ I said to Anna. The crying was quickly muffled. I could picture her trying to hide it. ‘I love you,’ I told her. She went quiet.
    â€˜Look,’ I said, trying to control the wobble in my voice, ‘I’d rather do all of this face to face, so the sooner we can get all of this out of the way and get together the better. I love you.’
    â€˜I am love you too,’ came back in a thick Eastern European accent, ‘and I am agreeing that we should be meeting. I am thinking we should get together on the tomorrow. Calling me tomorrow in the morningtime, so we can arranging this. Then we can be getting to know the details of what you arse doing for us and we can be arranging what to do with you wife and childs. We must be being the quick because your wifes is becoming very distressed and I am being worried this leads to violence.’
    You bet it leads to violence, I thought. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes, Mr Kidnapper.
    â€˜Can I speak to her again, please?’ I said plaintively.
    â€˜No. On the tomorrow, Mr Rant. Ciao!’
    â€˜Wait!’ I screamed. ‘At least give me a clue as to what the hell this is all about.’
    Sam was mouthing a question again.
    â€˜Whom do you want me to take out?’ I asked. ‘Give me that much information at least.’
    There was a prolonged pause and I was beginning to think he had gone. Then he said, ‘Okay. Just so that you can be doing your housework, likes a good boy. Your customer he is Bela Barbu. He is making the very interesting movies in Romania. Now I must gone.’ And he was.
    â€˜Well?’ asked Sam.
    â€˜Not really, thanks for asking,’ I said.
    â€˜What’s going on?’ he asked.
    â€˜We’re having a baby,’ I said.
    â€˜Well that’s great, boy, but you’re not going to be having anything – not even a wife – if we don’t figure out what’s going on. Who is the target?’
    â€˜Er…Bella Barbie?’ I said. ‘Or something like that. Some kind of director who makes films about Romania, I think he said.’
    â€˜You think,’ said Sam. He didn’t look terribly happy.
    â€˜Well I was a bit shocked by Anna’s news. And he had a bit of a thick accent,’ I finished, pathetically.
    â€˜Right,’ he said, obviously working hard to keep calm. ‘I assume Simon has internet access?’
    â€˜I suppose so,’ I said.
    â€˜DO YOU KNOW ANYTHING AT ALL, BOY!?’ He had finally lost it. His face had gone bright purple and he stood up, looming over me and shaking his bound fists in my face.
    Luckily, just at that moment the pizzas arrived and we both calmed down. (See, that’s all it was. Just a bit tetchy because we hadn’t had any supper.)
    I paid with a fifty from my bag and of course the pizza guy had no change. I toyed with the idea of