Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Day 161 - Upside Down- Chapter 9 - (2437 words)

©Wayne Webb and constantwriting.blogspot.com, 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Wayne Webb and constantwriting.blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

UPSIDE DOWN, BACK TO FRONT

By Wayne Webb

CHAPTER 9



After
The money sat there, doing nothing.
“We can’t touch it, not even a dollar. We can’t.”
“I know.”
“What do we do about Ivan? He’s going to be impatient, he’s going to want it.”
“He’ll have to wait.”
“He won’t. He’ll push man, he’ll get us out of the way if he has too. He’s not being watched like we are, he’ll be … he’ll take risks.”
“He will have to wait.”
“He won’t.”
James sits down on the chair, a tarpaulin covers it and makes the sitting uncomfortable as it pulls in differing directions around him, but it does not register as a problem worth solving compared to the cash issue.
Money. Sam looks at it. They need to bank it, or hide it or do something with it. It may not need to be for long, or even much longer if the Detective just moves on. No one is calling it a crime yet. It’s still an accident, and this guy is just suspicious.
Give them nothing to look at.
There is no crime if there is no crime visible.
“We need to get it out of here and into somewhere safe.” Sam is thinking about overseas bank accounts and trusts and lawyers. They all create paper trails.
“Should we give him some? To buy us some?”
“No. He’ll have to wait. If we get caught, all the money goes. He knows that.”
“He wants it all. He was going to kill me, I don’t think you understand.”
Sam sits down on a box. The rented storage container that James’s ex-girlfriend kept her funriture in was perfect as a short term solution. It was in her name and she was in the UK and there was minimal connection to James. He had a key, he looked in on it from time to time on her behalf.
She wasn’t coming back.
She wasn’t letting go either.
Prior.
Ivan was sitting at his desk, looking at the invoice for the repairs to the hydraulic hoist. It was not going to come in cheap, even with the good rate he got strong arming his friends to do the job for cost. The parts were not cheap, he’d need a new job fast.
Not one on cars, one after hours.
He’d just finished a job and had wanted to lie low, but this had just been the wrong time.
Ivan’s father came into the office, this walking stick making a small sucking sound with each laboured step.
“Whats your problem son?” The attittude was less friendly, more annoyed.
“Nothing I can’t handle Dad.” Ivan closed the ledger and stood up.
“Good, get that long fucking look off ya face, you have a customer.”
Maybe it’ll be worth the while, maybe he won’t have to risk an evening job.
“Jesus boy smile like you mean it, you don’t catch ant flies with vinegar now.”
The sucking sounds began again and he made his way to the back, getting out of the way of the business.
Ivan forced a sile on his face, taking his father’s advice and went out to meet whomever had turned up.
“Hi, are you the mechanic?” A sharply dressed Indian woman with no discernable accent was standing there, clutching a purse in one hand and a mobile phone in the other. She looked distressed.
“Hi, yeah, Ivan.” He held out his hand, checking first it was clean enough to offer the woman.
“Manisha.” She took his hand tentatively, but he shoock it warmly none the less. It felt comforting to her.
“Now what seems to be the problem?”
“I need to get some work done, this car … I just went to get a Warrant and they gave me a list, I have it here. They want me to have it done and confirmed to get it. I can’t afford to not have the car on the road, and I can’t spend loads of money.”
Ivan looked up and down the list, hiding his disappointment. It was a light list and woould not cost a lot to fix. He could overcharge her of course, but it would have to be an embarrassingly large amount to cover the cost of the lift.
Plus, she was quite cute too. No need to be anything other than nice.
Women liked men who looked out for them, among the harder lessons his Dad had taught him, being a man and caring for women had slipped in there. She had a concerned look on her face and he shook his head a couple of times and frowned.
As he did her concern flattened and the start of despair crept in.
He cut across it finally and reached out to her sense of hope and fairplay.
“This? This is nothing, it won’t even take me a day, and it’ll cost a few parts and less than an hour of my time.”
“She smiled, still suspicious at a man being so nice, it had not been her experience before when taking her car in for work. A friend had recommended the place, had said that the guy who ran it was nice and friendly. Despite her suspicion, it seemed she had to try it rather than have no leads to follow.
“Seriously, I’ll keep the price down – I don’t have much on today, and I have these I stock now, so I can probably get it cleared while you wait if you like? Coffee?” Ivan smiled warmly and her mood lifted considerably.
Maybe her friend was right.
“That would be good, I’d really appreciate it.”
Well then this was not a money spinner, but it never hurt to make nice with a gorgeous woman now did it?
“Here, I’ll just get some forms for you to fill out.” Ivan disappeared and returned with a clipboard.
“Do you need to know all this?” There were all sorts of personal questions about her address, employer and income.
“Not really, no – but we never know about walk ins – I mean it’s nothing personal but experience has taught me to be careful.”
And to learn everything about potential targets. Even when they are not targets.
You never know what you may find.
“Look you just fill out the main stuff, in case I need to … uh contact you again… for some reason.”
Manisha blushed at what looked like it was a stumbling attempt to get her phone number, but started filling in the form anyway.
There was a loud crash from the doorway and a muffled yelp.
Ivan’s blood froze, was that glass breaking?
He turned and sped through the door and into the kitchenette at the back of his workshop. His Dad was there wringing a hirt hand and swearing quietly to himself. A broken, shattered mug lay in pieces, at the centre of a lake of tea, milk still mixing in and scattering thin clouds across the linoleum tiles.
“You all right?” Ivan grabbed a roll of paper towels and stepped forward to help even as his Dad tried to shoo him away. The shock of the burn, light though it looked and the noise of the accident had obviously taken their toll on him, his health had not been fantastic recently and that was why Ivan had insisted Dad spent his days here with him at the garage.
He had come home once and been confronted with his father’s mortality before.
It would not happen again.
“Everything ok?” Manisha had come into the kitchenette to see what she could do, her form now complete.
Ivan’s Dad brightened suddenly as he put forward his best face to the visitor.
“Oh I’m fine, just getting older every day. My son here will clean it up and sort me out don’t you worry.” He had the reflex to look embarrassed to the woman, rather than swear through the visceral anger and fear he had at his own failing abilities.
She bustled forward, pointed Ivan at the mess on the floor, neatly side stepping it and leading the elder man to the sink by his shoulder and had has hand under the tap before eitrher could argue.
“Ahh, that feels better already. You have the touch my dear, the touch of an angel.”
Ivan rolled his eyes, but smiled depsite himself. Even in his old age his Dad could not help trying to charm every woman he came across.
Shame it never lasted on Mum.
Manisha tutted and fussed and had the injured senior sitting in the armcahir, the one reserved for him usually. It had that look of comfort and home to it, it was visibly an old man’s chair.
Ivan cleared away the mess and wrapped the broken crockery pieces into paper, settling them down on the bench. He looked over at his Dad, a broad smile on his face and giving an unseen thumbs up to his son as the guest rubbed some skin cream from her purse into the smarting flesh of his hand.
When she looked up she saw Ivan staring at her, but this time he showed no embarrassment, just interest. She had to look away, but as she did a huge smile went across her face.
“I’ve finished the form, it’s on the car hood.” Manisha nodded back at the garage workshop.
“What? Oh that? Tell you what.” Ivan had already made up his mind, he would ask her out.
“What’s that?”
“Can you keep an eye on my Dad for a bit? Just since youre waiting anyway?”
“Sure, I’d be happy to.”
Ivan nodded and walked out of the room.
An hour or so later Manisha came looking for Ivan as his Dad had fallen asleep in his arm chair and looked settled and even his hand barely looked affected. She had been uncertain of it’s promised anti-ageing miracles touted in store but it certainly had done the old man world of good.
“Everything ok?” Ivan was genuinely concerned for his father, today was just the latest in a long series of accidents and problems and each one left an indelible mark on both of them. His father had worked so hard and so long and yet here he was barely able to look after himself and relying on his son to keep him safe, and barely making do on his pension.
Mum had much to do with that, Dad never made a move on that house. Not once in the the twenty years since they had separated. She owed him, she owed them both.
He would not hear of that though.
“Yes, he’s ok – he’s asleep. Probably a bit of a shock. Nap will do him good I think.” Manisha ran a finger up the side of the car, self conscious but really wanting to talk to, connect to Ivan. Any man this protective of his family had to be trust worthy.
And big, strong and manly. He seemed like a mountain to her now. Like her father had been when she was young. Sam looked just like her Dad, but had that reflective nature like their mum instead. It had been a while since she had seen that in anyone, let alone a white guy.
Her mother, who knew what that woman thought. Her Dad though would have wanted her to marry an Indian man of a good family. A man who provided, protected and had passion for his wife and family.
Next to the door to the office Manisha noted that there was a vase full of loose flowers, some tulips, roses and other assorted pretty stems. Her friend had noted that it was a thing that this guy did, it wasn’t a come on – but the women customers all got a flower in the car when it was done.
It wasn’t just the pretty ones, it was a charming habit more than a chance to chat someone up.
“Done, just working out the bill.” Ivan jotted some things down and handed over a hand written invoice.
Manisha looked at it, turned it over twice and re-read it.
“This can’t be right.”
“No, that’s what they cost, I’m not trying to …”
“No. I mean it’s too little, this is nothing, where’s the rest of it?”
“It’s just the parts, can’t charge for my time when you are babysitting my Dad now can I? How fair would that be?” Ivan smiled and opened the door for her.
Manisha opened her wallet and looked inside. She had more than enough to pay for it all here and now with his generous offer. If she did though, what excuse would she have to come back.
“I…” Her brain failed her and she reached for a few notes.
Ivan’s hand closed over hers, pushing her fingers lightly back into her purse, the money with it. “There’s absoluely no rush. And besides I have already put the cash drawer away, I was thinking of closing early today, you were… unexpected.” He added that with some flair and mystery, it set her pulse to racing, her sense of self inflating and confusing her.
He had opened the door for her and she was getting in, but she didn’t really want to go.
“Thank you so much, I really appreciate what you did.”
He was taking from her everything she wanted to say.
She smiled and turned the car on, and it sounded in her ears better than she had ever heard it before.
As she backed out of the garage and he waved at her she saw something on the seat next to her.
A single rose, pinkish not quite red and a slip of paper. She stopped the car and picked it up.
It was his phone number, and his name Ivan written boldly underneath.
She looks up and catches his gaze. While he’s there she makes a show of taking the number and putting it in her purse, and he sheepishly turns to the back room as she drives away.
“Well?”
“Well what?” His father is not asleep, the noise of the engine had woken him from his light sleep.
“She seems nice, she single?”
Ivan picked up the cliboard and looked at what she had written there.



He already knew she was though.

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