Three in a Bed by Andrew Croker

Author:Andrew Croker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Ficton, Novel
ISBN: 9781783521586
Publisher: Unbound
Published: 2016-01-20T15:35:48+00:00

CHAPTER 21

TUESDAY 8th July – DAY 11

Daily Telegraph: YOU WON’T FLY IF YOUR PHONE’S FLAT

Independent: SCOTTISH YES VOTE WOULD BE WORSE THAN BANKING CRISIS

The Sun: PAGE 3 SAVED MY LIFE

Gary had cleared immigration at Chisinau just after midnight. Customs ignored him. He’d been on Monday’s last Air Moldova flight from Bucharest, having got there on Tarom Air from Heathrow. He knew he’d probably have to leave Odessa in a hurry, and crossing the border back into Moldova made the most sense if it all went wrong.

Damir had got a local guy to meet him at the airport. He gave him the keys to a battered old Toyota Land Cruiser and told him insurance was in the glove box and false Ukrainian plates were in with the spare wheel if he needed to run. The TomTom he always travelled with showed 175km, and 2 hours 23 minutes. The border at Kichurhian was at about halfway.

Arriving at crossings in the middle of the night usually worked best. Tired, bored, junior guards, and no queues. He crossed without needing any birdwatching diversions. He found a lorry park on the outskirts of Odessa and went to sleep.

*

The alarm woke Sam at four. Chalky had told him to pack everything and that the boys would get the bike back to Frank’s when the coast was clear. He was showered and packed when Maria came with a coffee and some scrambled eggs.

Chalky was on the steps kissing Sofia goodbye. He had a battered canvas satchel over his shoulder and a big leather holdall. Where the hell was he going? Sofia was in her dressing gown and waved an unsmiling goodbye to Sam as they got into the pick-up. She looked like she’d had no sleep, and she’d definitely been crying.

Just before six they were on an industrial estate near Malaga airport, driving steadily through the long line of drab offices and units. It felt like the outskirts of Slough. Chalky pointed and said, ‘That’s one of mine, home entertainment – does all the Sky stuff and sound systems, villas, boats, hotels. Here we go.’

They came up on an unmarked, two-storey grey box.

‘Doesn’t believe in advertising then.’

An old, dark green XJ6 was parked outside.

‘No need. That’s Jez’s. Can’t see anybody else.’ They cruised past and, at the end of the road, turned round and came back, but it was deserted. The way he handled the car and looked around reminded him of Gary. Did they learn this stuff somewhere? Chalky parked at the back, reversing into a bay.

Chalky said, ‘Just so you know, some of Jez’s stuff is what I wanted kept quiet. Some Wilko.’

They went to a door with a small sign saying Clifton Photo Agency, where Jez met them. They all shook hands and went up to his office. This was clearly a challenge in itself for big Jez, out of breath after one flight. He wasn’t just fat, he was grey. Sam looked at the drinks cabinet and stacked duty free cartons of 200 Senior Service.

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