Although not entirely necessary, it might be advisable to read Algy's Peril and Algy's Peril 2 first. The fallout from my second close call on the heath was far worse than I thought it would be. I thought, given that I had broken ribs and considerable bruising, that my parents would go easy on me, might even commiserate. I soon began to regret leaving hospital. At least there I could ring the bell and a nurse would come and minister.
It began the morning after I'd arrived home when I got up to pee. I'd forgotten how sore I was and yelled as I reached for my dressing gown. Of course that let the household know I was awake. If I hadn't suffered enough already, that morning made up for it. It was like a series of awkward interviews with people I didn't know at all, except I knew them only too well as they were my family and close friends. My parents thought I'd lost my marbles and needed a psychiatrist. The twins had only stayed to apologise, and that, patently, was staged.
"Why can't you stay?" I asked, frowning at their distinctly odd body language.
"Can't miss our flight," Jo and Rob said in unison, avoiding eye contact. Then they left. Much as I wanted to talk to them I envied their escape. The worst of it all was that Alan and Tricky were disappointed in me, too. All the more so once I'd let the cat out of the bag with my parents by mentioning that we'd already been cruising together.
"You did what?!" my mother exploded. That row lasted hours and it was only Cee's interjection that persuaded my parents not to fling Alan and Tricky out of the house forever with an ‘and don't you dare darken our doors again!’ attached.
The nightmare lasted a week, and whilst all I could do was ponder the enigma that was Jake, no one, except for Cee, would talk about him. If I brought his name up in conversation they either left the room or changed the subject. It was a week of arguments and door slamming and being called an idiot by everyone concerned, and by the end of it I was considering that agreeing to see a shrink might be a good way to pacify everyone. Then I changed my mind and blew up instead. It was lucky for me that Cee had gone out as he would have calmed me down. It wasn't lucky for my parents and my supposed best friends.
We were sitting around the kitchen table having lunch. Alan and Tricky had taken to wearing what I considered very unlikely garb which included grey slacks, and in Alan's case, a cardigan. Tricky had removed all his jewellery and if you didn't know he usually wore a lot of it you would never have guessed. Worst of all, they'd both had their hair cut. It kind of suited Alan, but Tricky just wasn't the Tricky I knew anymore. They were talking quietly together at one end of the table whilst my father was telling my mother about his latest idea which was to raise a local tax and have the heath patrolled by guards, possibly armed. No one had said a word to me since soup. I snapped.
"Will you SHUT UP!" I screamed, picking up my plate and slamming it onto the table where it shattered loudly. The effect was gratifying. My father stopped in mid sentence, his mouth frozen open as my mother gaped at me wide eyed. Alan pushed his chair back and leapt to his feet whilst Tricky just sat and gawped.
"I'm the one who's been in hospital and came home for bed rest. Bed rest? Pshaw! There'd be more best rest during an earthquake. All you want to do is lay blame for what happened. It happened, it happened! Isn't that enough? Get over it. If you want to think I need a therapist because a pair of loonies tried to...." I broke off to swallow, my thoughts and emotions almost overwhelming me. I blinked, took a deep breath and, very aware I had their attention, continued. "Look, just because a pair of utter bastards tried to rape me doesn't mean I need therapy. You might think I do, but I don't. I just need some god damn compassion from family and friends. Not once have I been hugged by any of you since I got out of hospital. Not once! All I get from you are looks like I'm something unpleasant you found on the bottom of your shoes. FUCK!" I picked up a glass and flung it at the stove where it shattered. I stood shaking, tears running down my cheeks, not knowing whether I should run or smash some more crockery.
"It seems I got back just a little too late," Cee said from the doorway. He was smiling at me and mouthed 'bravo!' "It's about time you all pulled yourselves together and thought about what's really what," he opined, handing me a handkerchief. Shocked, my father remained silent but my mother cleared her throat and looked like she might have something to say. Cee held up his hand. "Algy asked me to do a bit of digging, so I did."
"Algy asked you?" my father sounded a little hurt.
"Yes, well, you haven't exactly said a lot to your son, John, have you? Or you two either." He waved at Alan and Tricky.
I snorted. "I don't think I know who they are anymore," I said sadly. I'd moved over to stand next to Cee and wasn't expecting the rush, or the octopus of arms that wrapped me in hugs so thoroughly supportive and loving I was in dire need of subtle re-arrangement. My parents, being older, were slower but no less effusive and tearful. It was like some dark spell had been lifted. It was a distinctly odd soppy and sentimental way to make up, but it cheered me up no end, though if I could have erased the last few days I'd have happily done it.
I ended up by demanding that I have the old Alan and Tricky back. My parents agreed, provided I didn't smash any more china, and off my two friends dashed, to return a few minutes later in jeans, t-shits, and in Tricky's case with all his jewellery back in place. I grinned fit to bust and happily messed up his hair, short thought it was - as Cee sat down at the table and opened a folder he'd had under his arm.
"Come family," he said, then had to shout over the happy conversation. "Family! Come and sit down and learn what Algy wanted to know." That got their attention.
"you found out, Cee?" I said. I'd hoped, but wasn't sure if he could.
He nodded. "Yes, with some help I did. Most of it anyway." He smiled at me and I smiled warmly back as everyone else resumed their places and I dealt with the smashed plate and glass. I made a mental note that smashing things, especially crockery, is quite therapeutic. No wonder Russians smashed their vodka glasses in the fireplace.
“Algy?"
"Hmm?"
"Are you going to join us or carry on cleaning up and, umm, humming?" Cee asked mildly. I blushed.
"Sorry," I said to their laughter, "I was miles away. I was ... well, just ... thank you. Thank you all." With that I sat down and looked at Cee expectantly.
"Right then," Cee began, "Jake Smit...."
My father groaned. "Please Clive. don't tell us that you've been pandering to Algy's mistaken...." Cee slammed his fist down on the table and my father rocked back in shock. Cee was generally the most mild-mannered of people, yet when his dander was up he could be awesome.
"John," he said slowly, picking his words with care. "I know you well and I know that you're not an idiot."
"How da...."
"Shh darling," my mother put her hand on his arm. "Let's listen to what Cee has to say, shall we?" My father pursed his lips, closed his eyes and, after a moment, nodded.
"Okay." Cee let out a deep breath, as, I think, did the rest of us. He tugged at his ear, looked down at his folder, then across the table at me. "So. Jonathan and Rosemary Smith-Green and their two children Jake and David lived in a rather nice house, right here, in Hampstead. According to all reports the family was solid, loving and well thought of. Jonathan worked in media sales in the West End, whilst Rosemary ran the house and also a local charity shop. The boys both went to the school on Haverstock Hill where they're still missed. Then, just over a year ago, and without any warning, their mother collapsed during her afternoon shift in the charity shop. She died in hospital later the same day without regaining consciousness. It was an aneurysm."
"Oh my god," my mother said, her hand slipping into my father's and squeezing for comfort.
"As you'd expect the boys were totally devastated, but Jonathan took it by far the hardest. Much as he loved his sons Jonathan simply couldn't cope with the loss of his wife. He started drinking and in a remarkably short space of time moved on to taking drugs. Hard drugs. Five months ago he died from a bad bag of heroin. The police found his body during a raid on a squat in Archway.” Cee paused, looked up from his file and took a ragged breath.
Apart from the ticking of the kitchen clock there was utter silence. My father pulled out his hankie and blew his nose.
“I ... I don’t know what to say.”
Through tear filled eyes I saw Cee look over at him and shrug. “No. No more do I, John, no more do I.” He looked back down at his file. “It gets worse,” he said quietly. “There was no extended family. Both Rosemary and Jonathan were only children and both had lost their parents when young. That would have just been sad and unfortunate for the boys, but worse still is that both Rosemary and Jonathan died intestate.”
This time it was my mother who slammed her hand on the table. “I don’t believe it! How irresponsible can you get!”
“I don’t understand, Cee. Intestate?”
“Without a will, Algy,” my father said, sadly. “Cee means that Jake and David’s parents died without leaving a will.
Cee nodded. ”With both boys underage - Jake was sixteen and David eleven - and no known relatives to take them in, Camden council had no alternative but to place the two brothers in foster care. Their case officer said that she had thought it was fortunate they had been placed in a home where they could stay together, as many siblings in care are separated. In her defence she had no idea about the Jones brothers.
"She should have," Tricky said, outraged. "I thought that's what the Criminal Records Bureau check was for."
"Too many people moved around switching departments, and little ownership or pride," my father said. He was angry; I could see it in his face and in his body language. He shut his eyes, clenched his jaw, then, shaking himself, worked at returning to normal. "I apologise, Algy. I should have paid more attention to your feelings regarding this boy's motives and his younger brother's situation."
"We both should, darling," my mother said, "we both should."
"I still don't understand why the boy...."
"Jake," I said. "His name is Jake."
"Yes, sorry Algy, Jake. I don't understand why Jake didn't go to the police. Why did he have to involve you and your cousins?"
"Jake did go to the police," Cee said. "Twice, but because of case notes added by the Joneses they didn't believe him. David tried at school, too. Again it was the Jones' who had moved them from their original school and had told their new headmaster in no uncertain terms that they were both liars and fantasists.”
"How on earth did these Jones brothers become foster parents in the first place?" my mother asked, red-faced with outrage and anger.
Cee shrugged. "It's not pretty. Sid and Brian Jones became official council foster parents at around the same time as the boys' mother died, though the police investigation now believes they blackmailed two council officials to get the job and clearance. It is also thought that to begin with they did it for the money, as the first couple of children, albeit short term placements, had no complaints. It seems they then decided they could further their own interests and desires by fostering boys who identified as being gay.
"There was nothing on the Joneses' record to suggest they were gay, so the council happily agreed to place vulnerable children in their care. In Jake's case he had honestly, though with hindsight unfortunately, identified as gay. The Joneses must have been delighted. Once they had both boys in their care they used the welfare of David as blackmail to get Jake to run drugs and, umm, go cruising with them."
By the time Cee finished both Tricky and I were in tears, yet he hadn't mentioned the one thing I desperately wanted to know. I hadn't asked him to be secretive so I could only conclude he hadn't found out where they were now. I certainly wasn't going to ask him in front of my parents or Alan as they'd guess in a heartbeat why I wanted to know.
Finally we went over the cousins' motives for the nth time and all agreed, yet again, that the only excuse they could possibly offer was naive idiocy, and that they were completely and utterly untrustworthy to boot. Oddly, considering their father's attitude to him, Cee was the only one that stood up for them, but in the end he deferred to the majority.
It was a very cathartic afternoon, yet tiring, too.
I yawned and excused myself. Again, I was hugged something rotten by all of them and then seen up to my room by Alan and Tricky who, with doe eyes, decided they were also tired and would go to bed, too.
Humming, I put on sleeping shorts and slid under the duvet. I really was tired and was about to turn out the light when there was a quiet knock. "Come in," I said, and Cee entered, closed the door behind him and pulled my desk chair over to sit on.
"Did you find them?" I asked, wide awake again.
"Yes and no," he said, leaning forward and steepling his fingers. "You have to understand that everyone is paranoid about privacy laws, especially where children are concerned."
I nodded. "Yes, I know, Cee. But what do you mean by 'yes and no'?"
"Well, I found out David is in a small group home outside London with kids his own age. He's safe, well cared for, and apart from missing Jake, he is apparently liking it."
"Apparently?"
"Mmm. But I trust my source."
"Thank you, Cee," I said, tears coming unbidden. I sniffed and Cee passed me the tissues from my desk. I blew my nose then sniffed again. "And Jake?"
Cee scratched his forehead, then ran his fingers through his hair before looking at me. I was far from an expert, but I'd read part of a book on body language and tells that my father had had on his bedside cabinet and I didn't like the look of Cee at all.
"Jake is...."
"Please don't lie, Cee," I said. He looked at me shocked, then with respect and nodded.
"Jake's missing."
* * * I sometimes think that it was then, when Cee told me Jake was missing, that I began to grow up. Of course I had to be born first and that took the form of tears and comfort and, naturally enough, Alan and Tricky. I didn't scream, I howled, but at a very low and intense volume. I was hiccupping and being hugged on Cee's lap when Alan and Tricky came bounding into my room.
"Oh, umm, gosh. Ah, we're very sorry to interrupt," Alan said as he tried to bundle a wide eyes Tricky out of the room. God knows what their salacious minds thought we were doing, but I really didn't care and waved a beckoning hand at them until I was being hugged by all three of them, which was a soul saver.
Once they'd closed the door and sat down Cee brought them up to date and began again.
"Once the police had sorted out that Jake wasn't culpable they delivered him....”
“Sorry to interrupt, Cee, but culpable of what?”
“Oh, Algy,” he said, and looked at the ceiling for what seemed an age before looking back at me. “The Joneses lawyer claimed the whole thing was Jake’s idea.”
“He what!” Tricky, Alan and I said in unison.
“At the time he didn’t know the extent of the evidence against his clients, but the police were obliged to follow it up.” Cee said.
“Madness,” Alan said, shaking his head.
“Mmm. I’ve been told that Jake was never seriously suspected, but the appearance of impartiality was important. You can imagine the sort of lawyer the Joneses employ. One slip up and he’d have had them out.
“Anyway, once the police had cleared Jake they delivered him to the same group home David was in. The manager told them that though the home was for younger children under the circumstances Jake could stay there with David until other arrangements could be made. However, the next day Jake vanished.
“His disappearance wasn't discovered until an employee from the other home came to collect him. David is adamant he doesn't know where Jake is, but strangely," here Cee rolled his eyes, "he doesn't seem terribly upset."
Tricky moved from the floor, where he'd been sitting, next to me on the bed and slung his arm around my shoulders. “So what now, Cee?" I said.
"Now?" Cee glanced at me, then back down at his hands. He was clicking his thumbnails together and deep in thought. "I know the outcome you'd like, Algy," he began slowly. "But, erm, according to my sources the real problem is Jake."
"Jake's done nothing!" I said, glaring at Cee who glared fiercely back, then laughed.
"I know that, dunderhead, so there's no point in preaching to the converted," Cee said, then sighed. "No, the problem is that Jake doesn't seem to want to be found. With the favours I've pulled in I should have had his whereabouts by now. But I’ve heard nothing. It's infuriating."
"London's a big place," Alan said quietly.
"It is, and it's not only London," Cee said. "He could be anywhere in the country."
"Or the world." Alan added.
"You're not helping," Tricky snapped, and hugged me until I had to prod him in the ribs to stop. He seemed as upset as I was. With a deep and heartfelt sigh—recently, there'd been a deal too much sighing for my liking—I thanked them all and said I was tired and needed to sleep. Remarkably, they all went without me having to fling them out and I closed the door and turned off the light. I hadn't lied when I said I was tired, but more than sleep I needed space to think.
* * * Two days later, and with no more news of Jake, I saw Alan and Tricky onto a train at Paddington, again. It was a little bit déjà vu, and this time they wanted to stay.
"It's no problem, Algy," Alan had said that morning for the umpteenth time. "We'll stay and all go back to school together."
"Spiffing, chaps! Jolly hockey sticks!" I said, rolling my eyes. "Look. Please don't think I'm not appreciative of what you're trying to do, but I need space just as much as you do. Besides, I swear, if I hear Tricky's muffled pillow-in-the-mouth screams just once more I'm gonna ... well, I'm not sure what I'll do. But my parents will probably lock you both up."
"What!? Your parents can't hear...?"
"Oh yes they can," I grinned and waggled my eyebrows. "You're quite the talk of the house. Cee was going to find out if the local bookie would take bets as to how long Dad would be polite and keep quiet.
"Oh god!" Alan said, and I swear I could have fried an egg on his face.
I waited until the train had pulled away before texting Alan 'Gotcha!' and heading for the tube. I'd promised everyone faithfully that I wouldn't go near the heath again and I meant to keep my word. But there were other things I'd thought of that wouldn't put me in harm’s way. Besides, come hell or high water, I was determined I'd find Jake.
Ludicrously early I arrived at the school the foster home’s children attended. It was a grim looking four-storied Victorian monstrosity without an ounce of charm. A high brick wall topped by a wire fence surrounded the entrance enclosing both the school and a smallish concrete playground with a sad set of tyre swings. I’d meant to arrive at lunchtime but as it was hours away I thought I'd try my luck at the school office.
The office was empty except for a gum-chewing girl sitting behind the front desk who didn't look old enough to be so heavily pregnant. I gave her the benefit of the doubt and smiled.
"Yarse?" she said, moving the gum into her cheek and double blinking with both eyes.
"Umm," I cleared my throat. "David Smith-Green. I've come to see David Smith-Green, umm, Cecily," I said, reading her name from an engraved plaque proudly placed at the front of the desk. It read: 'Cecily Jones, recepton.' "I mean, umm, Miss Jones." Blinking, she tilted her head, then glanced at her stomach before looking back at me.
"Actually, I’m Anne Winthrop, Mrs. Miss Jones took the day off, and you're too late."
"Too late?"
"Yes, David Smith-Green was collected an hour ago." Slowly, she rolled her chair sideways, its wheels squealing painfully, until she was in front of a neighbouring desk. She pulled an envelope out from the top drawer, then rolled back and offered it to me. "They said this was for the next person who enquired, erm, after David."
"I see," I said, not seeing at all. "And who was it who collected him?"
Mrs Winthrop frowned and chewed at her gum a couple of times before re-parking it in her cheek and answering. "They were a couple from the home, I think. Mmm, yes, they had identification. Those plastic police type things."
"Ah, yes. Plastic police type things. Right." I was thinking furiously. I had no reason to doubt that it was a couple from the home, except why would they take David out of school so early in the day. Almost, in fact, as soon as he’d arrived. And why would they leave a letter?
"Plain clothes are you?" Mrs Winthrop asked, still holding the letter out for me. "You police are getting younger and younger nowadays my gran says, and I can't say as I disagree."
"Oh, I'm still in training. Now, were they a couple?"
"Who?"
"The two who collected David Smith-Green."
"Na, just two men. Odd looking pair if you ask me."
There were footsteps in the corridor outside getting closer so I smiled at her and took the letter. "Thank you, Mrs Winthrop, for your assistance. I'll let the, umm, chief know how helpful you've been." The footsteps stopped behind me. "Now, I must dash." I turned on my heel and found myself looking into pale blue rheumy eyes that belonged to a grey-haired old man in an immaculate suit and tie. Nodding at him I sidestepped and made for the exit.
"Who was that Mrs Winthrop?" said a whispery voice that sounded as if it brooked no idiots gladly, and I distinctly heard Cecily swallow her gum.
Still sweating at my close escape I sat on a bench in the local park looking at the envelope. It was white, sealed, and had 'ref: David Smith-Green. To whom it may concern.' written in block capitals on the front. I had no right to have the letter; in fact, even though I hadn't pretended to be someone I wasn't, I was probably already in a lot of trouble and I didn't want to be responsible for Mrs Winthrop’s job loss, either. What I should have done was taken the letter back to the office. Or, alternatively, taken it to the detectives handling the Jones' case and explained. But holding it in my hand I had a bad presentiment. Somehow I knew it needed to be opened sooner rather than later, and later is when it would be opened it I went through the process of handing it over to the police, and certainly if I took it back to the school
I tapped the letter against my knee and took out my phone.
"Cee?"
"What now, Algy?" he said with a smile in his voice.
"Are the Jones brothers still under arrest?"
The silence was deafening. "What are you up to Algy? I thought you were taking Tricky and Alan to the station."
"Yes, I was. I did."
"And?"
"And then I, umm ... then I went to do a bit of digging."
"Digging."
"Mmm."
"And what, pray tell, not that I can't guess, did you use as a spade?"
"I ... I'm sorry Cee. I looked at your notes."
The silence was almost worse than his change of tone when he spoke again. "Tell me. And don't leave anything out, your feelings included. They might be important."
So I told him everything from the moment I waved goodbye to Alan and Tricky at Paddington station.
"And this letter, you haven't opened it?"
"No, not yet. Should I?"
"No! Absolutely not. Wait there and I'll call you back shortly."
'Shortly' turned into an hour and I was thinking of calling him back when a small dark blue SUV with tinted windows pulled up at the entrance to the park. A man I'd never seen before got out, looked around, then after a brief conversation with someone inside the vehicle, started walking towards me. He looked a little like an older version of Jake, lithe and dangerous, and even if I'd thought to run I'm not sure how far I would have got.
"Algy Catvern?" he said, sitting down next to me and looking casually around the park.
"Umm," I managed.
"Cee suggested we meet," he said, "I believe you have an envelope?" I nodded. From an inside pocket he pulled out a plastic bag and snapped it open. "In here, please."
I could have slapped myself. How many episodes of detective dramas had I watched where the heroes cursed that they hadn't managed to fingerprint this that or the other. Still, I hadn't opened it, so the contents were clean. And couldn't they get DNA off the saliva used to seal it? I held the envelope out but didn't put it in the bag.
"I think it needs to be read now," I said. "I imagine the bloody sods are out?" He nodded.
“Yes, their sister raised their bail.”
"Then read it, please," I implored. For the first time he looked at me and frowned.
"You really care."
"Of course I care!" Now I was angry. "Look, I don't know what Cee told you, but I was just trying to find Jake. That I was given this envelope soon after David was taken, and not at the end of the day when someone from the home would have picked him up, is a stroke of good luck. You must see that. If you take it away to be fingerprinted then the extra hours we've gained will be lost."
"We've gained," he mused. "So you think you're not going to be arrested for impersonating...."
"I didn't impersonate anyone. The stupid girl in the school office mistook me for one of you."
"And just what am I?" he turned to me and raised an eyebrow.
"Police?" I hazarded.
"Close enough," he said. "Okay, come with me."
"Where are we going?"
"First to the car to read the letter. Then, we'll see."
Cee was sitting in the passenger seat as I slid in the back. He didn't look amused, but he didn't look angry, either. I took hope from that.
"We'll talk about privacy and a nephew going through his dear uncle's belongings like a thief in the night later, Algy," he said. "And, there's no need to blind me with waffle because I heard it all on Robert's gadget" He pointed to the dashboard radio as the man got into the driver’s side, wrapped up a small microphone and transmitter and put them in the glove compartment. Then he turned to me and held out his hand. "Robert Barant," he said as we shook.
"How did you find me?" I asked the question that I should have asked first.
"GPS on your cell," Robert said. "Not hard
"Robert's a private investigator,” Cee said, "and an old friend."
"Yes, well, sometimes Uni seems an age past. Right, put these on Algy," he said pulling a pair of thin rubber gloves out of a container and handing them to me, "and slowly open the letter from the bottom of the envelope. That way the police lab can still do what it can with the seal. Chop-chop, time's wasting."
Though the gloves were ultra-thin I still found it hard to get the single sheet of paper out. It wasn't folded and simply said:
'Jake. Key. Usual place & time. +24.' I turned it over but there was nothing written on the back.
"Hmm, interesting," Robert said. "Ideas?" Cee and I thought, then shook our heads as Robert took a photo of the letter with his phone, then slid it and the envelope into a plastic bag which went into the glove compartment. "Okay, then if you two wouldn't mind stepping out for a minute I have to report."
We got out, walked slowly back to the bench and sat. The way Cee looked at me made me feel knee high to a worm. I didn't know what to say to him. I'd gone into his flat uninvited and read his research. I felt awful for doing it—as I had at the time, but I was still glad I had because what I found out might help Jake ... or was it me it would help?
Finally he spoke. "I'm happy I can still make you feel guilty, Algy," he said and patted me on the leg.
"Perverts!" A woman pushing a pram said loudly as she hurried by. I growled at her and she almost broke into a gallop. Cee laughed. "I think you'll make a fine journalist, one day, Squirt. Oh, don't get me wrong. I was livid when you called, but then I thought back a bit and realised I'd have done exactly the same."
"I'm so sorry, Cee," I said.
"Don't be. Truthfully you're sorry because you got caught."
I blushed. "Maybe."
Cee shook his head. "I wouldn't have known if you hadn't phoned. And you phoned for the right reasons, hmm? So, now that we're all here and, erm, all involved, where is he?"
"I don't know!" I said, frowning.
"Okay, you don't know for certain, but you've a good idea. What are your first thoughts?"
"The theatre,” I said off the top of my head, “Yes, the theatre. He'll need money and I bet he has friends there."
Cee smiled. “See. That wasn’t hard, was it?”
* * * By the time Robert had found a parking space off Wardour Street and we'd started walking back towards Shaftsbury Avenue it was getting on for lunchtime. I didn't have a plan to winkle Jake out of the theatre, or even know how to find out if he was there, but as we came to Winnett Street, which was where the theatre’s stage door was situated, it was as if fate was smiling on us. Bustling out of the stage door came a group of five: two obvious couples followed by Jake who stopped in the doorway. To my mind it could have won the Nobel prize and the Oscar for sexiest boy ever in a pair of 501's. Droolworthy doesn't come close.
"Look guys, I'm gonna have a quick shower before food," I heard Jake say. The four turned around.
"Aww, we'll never get a table, then, Jakey," one of the girls said.
Her boyfriend laughed, "Yeah, but look on the upside, Jill. We won't get flung out for ponging." They all laughed.
"Don't make it one of your marathon numbers, Jake," the other boy said. "Sammy's got cottage pie on the menu today, but it goes quickly."
"Don't I know it!" Jake said, grinning. "It's my favourite. I'll be there soon as I can."
"Okay," the boy said, mock saluted and span on his heel. "Onwards gang!"
The three of us watched surreptitiously from behind a van as Jake stood there watching his friends as they walked off. Then he went back inside the theatre and the stage door closed.
"I take it we've been inordinately lucky," Robert said as the four turned the corner onto Wardour Street.
"Yes, we most certainly have," Cee said. "Algy, stop drooling. It's embarrassing."
"Mmm." I managed. "So how do we...."
"Cee and I'll distract the doorman, you sneak in behind us and talk to Jake."
"Me?" I squeaked, thinking of Jake and showers.
"Yes, you," Cee said.
"But first," Robert said, pulling a small zipped pouch out of his pocket "I want you to wear this mike and transmitter." I stood still as he fitted it, the main bit going in my back pocket with the mic taped to my chest. He slid a small receiver into his ear and tested it was working. "You'll need the letter, too." We connected our phones by bluetooth and he sent me the photo he'd taken earlier. "Right then, unless there's something else?" We looked at each other and all shook our heads "Okay, let's do it," Robert said and started across the road. Feeling a bit like a lamb to slaughter I followed.
Without knocking Robert pulled open the stage door and walked in closely followed by Cee. There was a loud 'Oi, you!' from within and then I was inside, too.
"Sorry, but we couldn't resist!" Cee said in the campest voice I'd ever heard.
"Yowse not allowed back 'ere," the doorman said angrily. I could see his balding head from where I was hiding, kneeling down behind them. Painted in a neutral beige the passage ran for twenty feet or so without any cover before it branched right and left. There was no cover and I'd be seen instantly if I moved.
"Cedric and I must have seen the film of the show a gazzilion times and we love it, love it!" Robert tried to out-camp Cee and came pretty close to succeeding. I was finding it hard not to laugh.
"Don't matter, yowse not allowed back 'ere," the doorman said, his tone slightly calmer but still annoyed. “I could lose me job.
"Oh, bless! If we did a big something for you, sweety," Cee said as I saw him magically produce a twenty pound note and wave it in front of the doorman's nose, "would you be an utter, utter lambkin and show us the stage. Frank N Furter just floats my boat!"
"Well I...."
"Oh do, do! Purlease!" Robert said stamping his foot and moving his body to block the doorman's view of the corridor and give me a chance. "Purlease, oh pretty purlease! We promise we won't mention you in our blog, though we'd love to have a picy of you!"
As I made it to the end of the corridor and turned right their banter and the ever more friendly replies from the doorman faded. After another twenty or so feet there was a staircase and I stopped to listen. Male off-key singing and the sound of a shower made my mind up for me and down I went. The corridor at the bottom was lined with boxes and in near darkness, but further on light spilled out of a doorway on the right along with billows of steam. I smiled, then couldn't help but chuckle at the farce that Cee and Robert were staging for my benefit. The off-key singing changed to humming. The room I entered wasn't big, just a couple of shower stalls on one side and a two-sink basin and a bench against the other. Not sure what to do I sat down on the bench to wait. Though the shower's opaque glass door in front of me I saw a body soaping itself. I gulped and forced my eyes closed, though they really didn't want to obey. Other bits didn't want to obey either. I had to drag up the emergency image of my grandparents indulging in a sixty nine to put matters to rest, though, as always, I worried I might never manage to get an erection again.
Finally, the water turned off. I kept my eyes firmly shut as I heard the sound of a towel in use. Then the shower door opened.
"Fuck!" Jake said, surprise more than evident. Then he chuckled. "I thought I saw you outside the stage door, Algy. Then I looked again and you'd gone so I thought I was imagining things. Now here you are with your eyes closed. I'm not sure if I should be happy or upset."
I heard him pad over to the door and close it, then there was a giggle followed by a click and suddenly he sat down next to me. Right next to me, his leg hard against mine.
"You can open your eyes, Algy. I'm decent," he said.
So I opened my eyes. Jake was as close as he could get, towel around his shoulders and bollock naked.
"You said you were decent!" I managed, my eyes riveted.
"There's nothing indecent here, Algy," he said and ran his fingers through his pubes and around his soft cock. Neither of us said a word as he stood and unselfconsciously proceeded to dry himself and get dressed. I wanted to cry.
Finally he sat down on the bench to dry his feet and put his socks and shoes on. "Okay Algy, talk. I know there's this thing between us, but that doesn't explain why you're here."
"You do?" I said, brightening up a little.
He frowned. "I do what?"
"Know there's a thing between us."
"Yes, although I don't know quite what it is ... yet."
"Yet?"
"Yes, yet." He smiled at me. "Even that first night on the heath, when your mates got the better of Brian and Sid, I felt something between us. Honestly, it frightened me a little. But then when you were there in the audience of The Rocky Horror Show with your cousins, and again in the street earlier today ... well, don't tell me you don't...."
"I do, of course I do," I said, then forced myself to stop blathering on. "But let's talk about that later. I'm here about David and...."
He grabbed my arm and I inadvertently noticed he chewed his nails. "What about David?"
Taking a deep breath I explained what had happened earlier, at the school and subsequently, and I watched the blood drain out of his face as I showed him the picture of the letter on my phone.
"Bill's gonna be pissed when he finds out," he said when I'd finished. He started nibbling his thumbnail.
"Bill?"
"Huh?"
"Bill?" I raised my eyebrows in question
"Oh, yeah, he's the stage doorman. Lovely chap."
"So what do we do?"
He looked at me and smiled. "We. I like that, Algy," he said and gently took my hand in his. Our hands were pretty much the same size, though his palm had some calluses. I squeezed, he squeezed back, and during the rest of the conversation we were connected. Maybe it was soppy, but still a memory to cherish.
"'We' sounds nice, Algy. But even with whatever this thing is between us, it can't be 'we.' I have to deal with those two bastards otherwise this is never going to end." He closed his eyes and I couldn't waste the opportunity. Closing my eyes and breathing deeply of his fresh clean scent I leant over and kissed him lightly on the cheek. I filed the sensation under 'Jake' cross referenced it with 'Panglossian' and slowly opened my eyes. Jake was looking at me quizically. I mouthed 'I'm sorry,' to which he rolled his eyes, shook his head, put a finger to his lips and leant over and kissed me hard on the lips. It was seventh heaven but over all too soon. We broke apart, grinning at each other like loons.
Jake cleared his throat. "Since you're wired for sound, Algy, I need to tell you what happened. Okay?" Mutely, I nodded.
He began slowly, his voice thick with emotion. "When mum died the world became a surreal place," he started, then stopped. I squeezed his hand reassuringly. "It was so sudden, Algy. So, so sudden. Mum was there and then she was gone. We had no idea she was ill. There was no warning, nothing. Dad did the best he could to keep things normal for David and me, but then he started going downhill and I didn't know what to do, I really didn’t. I wasn't strong enough to help dad, and David needed support, too. Dad forgot work, stayed home and we all rattled around the house like ... like zombies, though I managed to make sure we had food to eat."
"And then dad ... well, dad died and life went from surreal to hell in an instant. The police arrived, knocked at the door and said dad had been found dead. They were kind enough, I suppose, but they wanted to talk to whoever was in charge. I was a stupid idiot and told them my age. Of course being underage I was powerless, completely powerless to do anything. And then, then we found out mum and dad hadn't left a will." Jake stopped talking. He was wide eyed and panting with the effort of explaining and re-living the experience. I wasn't sure what to do to help so I squeezed his hand and was rewarded with a wan smile.
"David and I were underage and apparently, in case of death, unless there are relatives or official instructions, the state takes charge. It was awful, Algy, awful. We had no rights, and total strangers from social services making decisions for us. They were legally in our house, rooting around though personal family belongings to 'help us pack.'
"So we ended up in care with Brian and Sid." Shaking, he stopped and closed his eyes. I slid my arm around his shoulders as we both wept at the injustice. Eventually we cried ourselves out and, with encouragement, he continued.
"I did awful things, Algy, awful things. They gave me drugs and I pretended I liked them. I had to, you see if I hadn't they'd told me they'd start on David." He looked at me for reassurance and I hugged him.
"And then?" I asked timorously, not wanting to know, yet needing to know so we could put it behind us.
"Then they got me to deliver packages for 'em."
"Drugs?"
"I s'pose. Money, too, I think. And maybe once a gun. Dunno," his voice slipped back into street dialect as he continued the story.
"That first night on the heath, the night we met you was to be my 'break in' party. They'd invited a bunch of their mates and I was to be presented as a gift-for-all. We were on our way there when they saw you walking towards them ... fuckers!
"Then, after your friends bested them, they went fucking mental! Sid, for all his size, had trouble stopping Brian smashing up the house and I only just kept them both off David. They wanted your friends hurt, and badly. They had some really nasty, evil things lined up for them....” Jake petered offk, then chewed at his lower lip.
“Yes, and?” I said. I could see fresh tears in his eyes but he blinked them away.
“And they couldn’t find them. Nobody could, none of their friends, no one. Your mates had vanished and ... and stupidly I told them you were a local."
"You did it to save David," I said.
"Yes, but it doesn't make it right, or me feel any better. God, Algy, I'm sorry."
"Water under the bridge," I said, "besides, it'll be over soon."
Jake shook his head, reached into the small inset pocket of his jeans and pulled out a tiny see-through electrostatic pouch in which neestled an equally small USB stick. "It'll never be over as long as I have this key," Jake whispered, then froze as we heard noises coming from the theatre above. He looked at his watch. "There shouldn't be anyone in at this time," he said and gripped my hand tighter. There was a crash followed by a muttered oath, then footsteps were coming down the stairs and after a moment there was a hard thump on the door.
"Open up, Jakey!" a gleeful voice I knew too well from my nightmares said. "Open up for some extra special afternoon fun!"
Jake was shaking, his face was white, his eyes wide with terror, so I answered instead. "Fuck off, Sid," I yelled managing to bury my terror in vitriol. Then I lowered my voice to a whisper. "I hope you're getting this Robert or Cee, or whoever's listening. We're in the basement of the theatre and I think we’re in big trouble. Help would be nice."
"Oh Jakey, baby,” Sid crooned, “so your true love found you did he?" There was a rattle as Sid tried the door handle, then a thump as he put his shoulder to the door. "Does he know whadda bad boy you've been ... whadda bad boy you are, Jakey." Sid laughed and the sound was mad, truly certifiable. Sid shouldered the door again but thankfully it was solid Victorian oak and built to last. "Open the fucking door, Jakey! Open it now, or ... or....” The door shuddered as he hit it again. He was panting, then calmed himself. “Oh, sorry Jakey,” he continued, and for a brief moment I thought he was genuine. “So, so fucking sorry! I meant to tell you, musta forgot! Bri and me's gonna fuck your brother sideways, Jakey. SIDEWAYS! and we're gonna love eve...."
Jake leapt up and slammed his fists on the door before I could move. "Leave David out of this you fucker," he screamed. "It's nothing to do with him!"
"Open the fucking door then! Open the fucking door and give us the key or I'll gut you and your pissy lover an’ make your bruvva drink ya blood."
"No! I yelled and jumped on Jake as he reached for the key in the lock. "Don't be a bloody idiot, Jake!"
We were still screaming at each other as help arrived; still glowering at each other as we opened the door to Robert and Cee and saw a wild-eyed foul-mouthed Sid being cuffed and dragged off by four burly policemen; still not speaking as they drove us to the police station, and shocked and mute as we sat side by side, resolutely holding hands, as we waited for a lawyer so we could give our statements.
* * * I love my family, I really do. Unbeknownst to me my parents had been considering fostering Jake and David. Once they'd asked me and I'd thought about it for the nanosecond or two it took me to say yea, it all went smoothly, and, according to Cee and some research I did online, incredibly quickly, too. Suddenly, from being an only child I had two brothers. Two brothers, one of whom I loved in a way one really shouldn't love one's brother.
We spent the first month being coy, the second month almost dating, and by the third month the entire household and all our friends were begging us to 'get a room.'
David was great, too, in a typically annoying, bratty younger-brother sort of way. He seemed to delight in flaunting his filthy habits—which Tricky opined was manic puberty—and insisted on borrowing my favourite t-shirts without permission.
Next term they're both coming to school with me which, according to Alan, will 'be interesting.'
I should say so!
The End of Algy’s Peril.
Coming soon: Algy and the Maharani's Jewel. Thanks to CP, my ever kind, ever generous, editor, without whom this story would suck. Needless to say any mistakes are mine.
***** Thank you for reading Algy's Peril 3. I really hope you enjoyed it, and go on to read more of the excellent fiction available on the AwesomeDude website.
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