The Temporary Gentlemen by David Wostenholme

Author:David Wostenholme [Wostenholme, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: N07
Publisher: David Wostenholme
Published: 2019-03-12T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Ridley ordered Baam to turn the crank. He did and the engine, already warm, started at the first turn.

Once they were both seated in the rear Skinner glanced at Baam. The Havildar Major caught Skinner’s eye and nodded his head slightly in acknowledgement. He had obviously seen and recognised Brakeswater.

Ridley settled himself behind the wheel, let off the handbrake, grated the Sunbeam into gear and lurched away.

Taking a deep breath Skinner closed his eyes. He was still trying to stop his hands from shaking and to calm himself enough so as to get his heartbeat under control. He was also trying to understand what the hell was going on.

By the time they were half way along Rookery Road he was beginning to feel a little better. Although no nearer any understanding of Brakeswater’s supposed warning.

Up ahead he could see that the overcast had now collected in sufficient quantity so as to block out any view of the low morning sun that had warmed them in Ridley’s office.

The clear autumnal washed out blue sky of an hour ago had now been replacing by an ominous low layer of polluted purple grey overcast. The rain, when it came ten or so minutes later, began as a benevolent watering but the further south they drove the heavier it became and the stronger the wind. By the time they reached and turned left onto Holyhead Road the downpour had become a gusting slanting wind driven torrent that fell in sheets to bounce stair rods of thick cold water off every horizontal surface. The noise of the rain grew steadily until it was of such blasting ferocity that it blotted out all other sounds. It drummed on the Sunbeam’s canvas roof, its volume rising and falling like the growl of an angry animal. Speech was now impossible, drowned out by the howling of the wind and the thrashing of the rain.

Skinner and Baam sat mute looking out from deep in their overcoats. Skinner watched Ridley hunched forwards over the steering wheel. He could see that he was trying to see through the overwhelmed arc made by the single windscreen wiper as it continued its ineffectual efforts.

Sitting back in his seat Skinner used the time to try to think.

He stared out at the hammering rain and tried to understand why a young Life Guards Officer should be so far away from his natural central London habitat. And furthermore, why he should be standing at an Army road checkpoint on the outskirts of Birmingham pretending not to know his old friend Cameron Skinner. Whatever the reason he had the distinct feeling that the three of them should be dammed careful.

He was suddenly distracted as several soldiers dressed in rain slick capes and tin hats appeared out of the deluge waving them on with torches through another barrier that allowed them to turn left onto Booth Street.

As Ridley cautiously nosed the Sunbeam neared Smethwick there was a sudden ominous rumble. It sounded to Skinner like the bailiffs had come to God’s house and were forcibly removing the furniture.

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