FIXING SIXTY SIX by Tim Flower

Author:Tim Flower [Flower, Tim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781916282506
Publisher: Talk About Productions
Published: 2019-11-08T20:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Sunday, 26th June 1966

I had arranged for a cab to take me to the West London Air Terminal the following morning, hoping the FA would reimburse me. In the past, I would have had Nell drive me. But given the events of the previous day, I didn’t want to ask the favour or risk an hour-long argument.

The roads were so quiet, it was barely half-past eight when we followed one of BEA’s navy blue and white Routemaster buses up the approach to the terminal buildings: a jarringly modern, steel and glass tower emblazoned with the BEA logo, attached to a matching rectangular box. We drove up the “In” ramp - a squat, concrete helter-skelter for cars and taxis - and pulled up outside the departures area on the first floor.

I was still paying the cabbie, when a young porter with a peaked cap perched jauntily on the back of his head chirped, ‘I’ll take them for yer,’ and started stacking my luggage onto his red metal trolley. By promising him a two bob tip, I got him to take me inside the vast, pillared concourse to the enquiry desk - where I collected a small, square envelope with my name on it containing a lone stubby key - and onto the nearby bank of left luggage lockers. There I inserted the key into the door of number twenty-one and was relieved to discover inside, a bulging, brown foolscap envelope addressed to me, marked “Strictly Confidential. Addressee Only.”

Not wanting to open it in front of the porter, I had him drop me by the check-in desks and paid him off. Then shielding the envelope from the queues of well-healed flyers, I cautiously removed its contents.

There were two thin bundles of foreign bank notes: 130 “MARKKAA” issued by “FINLANDS BANK” and 300 “KRONER NORGES BANK”. Although I hadn’t a clue what a tenner in either currency would buy me, I suddenly felt as affluent as my fellow travellers looked. The feeling didn’t last long. In a BEA cardboard wallet, I found my airline ticket and discovered I was booked on their 10.50 flight to Helsinki - in tourist class.

The other items in the envelope were an itinerary, what appeared to be a briefing paper and a list of newspaper contacts. I glanced down the latter and saw all the usual suspects’ names, including my Mirror colleague, Ken Jones. I could hear them pillorying me for “going over to the other side”.

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