A Time And A Place

William Chamberlain sat in his press conference chair, in front of the hounds of mass media, and straightened his tie nervously as he squinted in the blinding camera flashes. Each burst of white light attacked with ferocity, causing a thin film of sweat to form over his tired face. He took his thin wire spectacles off, and wiped repetitive circles onto the lenses, continuing this way until the first question came, some five minutes later.

“Mr Chamberlain, how do you intend to enforce your policies on the people of Britain with so much opposition from the working class?” one loud reporter asked, amidst a grumble of approval from all else present in the room. Chamberlain began stuttering his response.

“I have- have every confidence that the people of Br-Britain, as you say, will understand why… why my manifesto will play a major part of the future of this co- this cunt- “

A slightly mirthful laugh rippled through the flock of journalists.

 “-This country.”

His face turned beetroot, and he pulled at his collar, breathing shallowly. There was another crescendo of voices, every major newspaper in Britain represented in the flash-lit public interrogation. Chamberlain pointed weakly to a young woman leaning forward desperately with a Dictaphone.

“Mr Chamberlain, will you be addressing the shocking rise in unemployment in low income areas of the country?” The competing members of her pack again made their feelings known.

Chamberlain wiped his brow, and tried to control his breathing.

“I will be giving attention to many important issues, y- yes,” he nodded, and again clutched at his collar. A dissatisfied murmur rose from the journalists, as they realized that Chamberlain, as poor a state that he was in, would not give them anything worth printing, such was his ever present coyness and political savvy.

A few of the reporters frowned, however, as Chamberlain’s state started to deteriorate further; he began panting, and sweat was now flowing freely down his brow. He ripped through his top shirt button, his face now tinged with purple and swelling quickly.

 A young man in a brown suit yelled suddenly to a police officer, who radioed in a paramedic team. The media masses soon became a blur of flashing lights, and in the haze of panic, Chamberlain collapsed in a heap behind his desk. The paramedics tended to him, and the officer searched through the crowd, but even so, nobody saw or heard a lady with light brown hair slip quietly out of the press room, nor a younger woman with stylishly thick purple-framed glasses following shortly behind her.

A biting wind rolled through the streets of London. Brown, wintery leaves lay strewn by the wind over cracked paving stones. The sky contained masses of grey clouds, looming ominously over the city, threatening to open their freezing floodgates.

At a bus stop adjacent to a quiet alleyway, Tawny Greys stood leaning against a grey signpost, his mop of dark, messy hair casting a shadow over his sharp, alert eyes. He scanned the cold and dry landscape for familiar faces every few minutes, and eventually he spotted Cal Stent at the opening of the alleyway. He nodded in greeting to Tawny, who raised his eyebrows in return.

Stent crossed the road and jogged to the bus stop, his face dark and grim.

“I can’t find Redmond.”

Tawny shrugged, and said; “Nor could I.”

“And you’re not concerned?”

“I am, but Domino’s says everything on her end’s gone to plan. Thought of anything else we can do?”

He shook his head regretfully, scratching his head through the mass of curly brown hair topping his skinny frame.

“So you’ve heard from her, then?” he asked.

“Couple of times.” Tawny replied. “Let’s wait for her to get back to us, then we’ll discuss what to do.”

“Yeah, hopefully with some food,” he scowled.

Tawny turned towards Stent, but his eyes were caught by a small, dark blue Ford Fiesta, parked a hundred or so yards from the alley. He frowned, reading the familiar licence plates, and as Stent followed his gaze, they both stared apprehensively at the car.

“Did that just pull up?” Tawny asked, though he knew neither he nor Stent had heard anything.

“I dunno. It’s his, isn’t it?” Stent replied cautiously, taking small steps towards the suspicious vehicle. Tawny pulled a mobile phone out of his pocket and, after a few taps of the screen, took a picture of the number plate.

“Damon’s, yeah. That makes-“                                                                                                     

“Three.” A voice came from behind, and Tawny and Stent instantly turned around. They were met by a man slightly older than the two of them, with neatly combed brown hair and a roguish look in his eyes. Tawny quickly hid his phone in his pocket. “Where the fuck have you been?” the man asked.

Tawny turned to face him, and replied; “I could ask the same, Damon.”

Damon stared hard at him, but Tawny held his gaze with equal intensity. Stent cleared his throat, snapping them back to attention.

“What about you?” Stent said as he looked between them. “What are you up to?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Get in the car,” Damon nodded towards the Fiesta, and Tawny and Stent reluctantly followed him in. “Phones off,” he added, looking directly at Tawny as he spoke, who obliged as he climbed into the back seat with Stent.

Damon drove for a few minutes before he spoke. Then, as they came to a traffic light, he turned around.

“I’ve lost Redmond.”

There was a long pause.

“Lost him how?” Stent asked.

“He got caught doing something for me, now he’s unreachable.”

“You could tell us what you’ve been up to,” Tawny frowned. “First of all, what was Redmond doing?”

Damon sighed. “We were working a job on someone. Just money, but Redmond fucked up and we need to get him out.”

“Exactly how will we do that?” Tawny asked, focusing his attention fully on Damon.

Damon pulled up at a block of small flats, and replied as they got out; “Call Domino.”

Tawny and Stent looked at each other, and they both exchanged concerned glances. Tawny took his phone out, switched it on and waited for her to answer. As they followed Damon into the flat, their faces were etched with worry.

Domino sat in the driver’s seat of her black VW Polo, the car keys on her lap, rapidly writing a text on her phone. Her bright green eyes were glazed over, behind her violet spectacles, as she tapped on the touch screen, occasionally blowing her dark, wavy hair out of her face. Light rain was pattering gently on the windows.

Something in her wing mirror caught her eye. Frowning, she took her attention away from the phone and checked through her window. After a few seconds, nothing had happened, so she returned to her phone, which had just started ringing. She saw a familiar name on the screen, and answered.

“Hello?”

“Dom?”

“Tawny?”

“Yeah, listen. We need her now.”

“What? Why? She did it, pretty well I might add.”

“Yeah, but Redmond hasn’t done so well.”

Domino listened quietly as Tawny explained, her face concentrated. Eventually, he finished, and told her to call him soon.

She hung up, plugged her key into the ignition and started the car. As she checked the road was clear, she pulled out of her spot and changed direction, moving slowly and carefully. As she drove, the rain became heavier, and Domino scowled and turned the wipers on, keeping attentive eyes firmly on the now almost empty pavements, most people having taken cover from the downpour. She squinted to see a woman with light brown hair standing solemnly, hunched coldly as she took the splashing of the cars that drove by her. Smiling, she pulled up.

The woman raised her head hesitantly at first, but gave a grateful but small upturn of her lips, as Domino nodded towards the passenger seat. She climbed in and sighed with relief as the warmth of the little car’s barely working heating.

“Thank you, thank you very much,” she said exhaustedly.

“No problem,” Domino grinned. “You look like you could use a lift?”

“I’m going to London, if you can help me?”

 “Well probably; I live in Barnet, so I can drop you nearby there,” she said, knowing the answer would be yes.

“Barnet’s perfect, I can walk the rest of the way.” She smiled thankfully again, and Domino shook her head in a not-to-mention it way as she turned off the hard shoulder and continued to London.

“Domino texted back.”

Tawny sat at Damon’s dinner table, with him and Stent, and feasted on baked beans from a tin; as filling a meal as he would get tonight. Stent ate the same, whilst Damon gnawed a chunk of cheese.

“We’re good to go,” Tawny said, toying with the lukewarm beans and looking to Stent. Damon looked up, slightly surprised.

“She’s done it?”

“Yep, she’s on her way back now,” Tawny continued. “Try calling Redmond again, just in case,” he looked at Stent, who nodded, before asking Damon; “You sure this will work?”

“Yeah,” he replied grimly. “We’ll have to try, anyway; no other way we’re getting Redmond back. Once she’s here, do whatever you have to do to get her to Finchley. I’ll sort the rest.”

There was a short silence, until Damon told them he would meet them later, and that he would drop them back when they’d finished eating. Tawny made no complaints, so they ate, and later drove in silence, until Damon bid them a short goodbye. Tawny watched him drive off, not back towards his house, and looked at Stent.

“We’ll go to mine, wait for Domino and see what’s going on,” he suggested tiredly, and Stent nodded. They walked, the only sound made by their shoes on the wet road. As they reached Tawny’s small flat on a small council estate, they heard a beep behind them. They turned around and narrowed their eyes in the headlights of a black VW.

Tawny checked his watch; “Jesus, it’s eleven thirty.”

“No wonder. Can I crash at yours tonight?” he looked up hopefully, and Tawny smirked.

“Thought your mum was making stew?”

“Exactly,” Stent grimaced, and they both chuckled as Domino walked towards them. She was accompanied by another woman with damp, light brown hair and focused eyes. It felt like she was reading everything around them, processing it and storing it away.

Tawny looked at Domino, asking a silent question. She nodded in reply.

“She was going to London when I picked her,” she said pointedly. “It was raining,” she added.

“No worries,” Tawny replied, before looking at the woman. “We were about to sort some food out, if you’d like to join us?”

She looked at them hesitantly, but after gentle persuasion she acquiesced to a cup of tea.

Tawny unlocked the front door and turned on the lights.

“Sit, turn the telly on, I’ll boil the kettle,” Tawny said as he walked to the kitchen in his open plan little apartment. He walked over to the far left cabinet on the wall and withdrew a change jar.

“How much do we need for a takeaway?”

“About four quid each,” Stent said, reading a menu off the small table in the kitchen. “Get a decent sized pizza.”

Domino pulled out a ten pound note and said, “I’ll pay for most of it, it’s been a productive day.” Tawny grinned as Domino winked, and pulled out two pound coins from the jar, handing it to Stent.

“I think I’ve got a pound, in change,” Stent said, digging in his pocket through a jingle of metal. Tawny risked a glance at the woman, who was holding like a beacon of warmth a crisp twenty pound note. She smiled slightly, and for the first time they saw a glint of cheerfulness in her eyes.

Stent took the twenty pound note, staring at it in slightly exaggerated awe.

“Amazing,” he said as he took the note gratefully, and there might have been a barely audible growl from his stomach as he reassessed the menu.

Tawny finished making the tea, took a small carton of milk from the fridge and a small pot of sugar from the worktop, placing it all on a tray and resting it on the kitchen table. He then walked over to the small swing chair that the woman had settled in, holding her mug in hand.

“Sugar or milk?” he enquired, but she shook her head.

“This is fine, thank you,” she said, and took the mug. She wrapped her fingers around the mug to warm them, and this reminded him to switch the heating on. The flat warmed up slightly after a few minutes.

Domino sat at the kitchen table with Stent, and waited for Tawny to join them. He turned the television on and handed the woman the remote, before he took his seat at the table. Making sure Clio could not hear them over the sound of the television, he lowered his voice as he spoke.

“So, should we just ask where to drop her?”

Stent looked down thoughtfully, but Domino chipped in: “No, she’s secretive. I still don’t know a lot about her, but she probably won’t give us an exact location.”

“Well, we could just drop her nearby-“ Stent suggested

“Again, not good enough. Damon says we’ll only get Redmond back if we can convince Hurst that we’ve got her under our control,” Tawny reminded him.

“Well, we sort of do, don’t we? She’s here, and there are three of us if it gets violent,” Domino’s statement and the possibility of having to try and restrain a very dangerous woman hung in the air.

Tawny’s phone rang. It was Damon. He looked at his friends, and spoke a little louder; “I’m going to the loo.”

He answered the phone as he locked the toilet door behind him.

“Yeah?”

“Have you got her?” he heard Damon’s voice pant.

“She’s here, what do we do?”

“I’ll text you an address. Offer to drop her to where she’s doing, but make sure she directs you.” He paused, then continued. “Redmond is waiting at Hurst’s house, which is where Clio wants to go. I’ll take care of things from there.”

Damon hung up, and minutes later Tawny received the promised text.

The living room in the small house in Finchley was dark; the pale yellow curtains were closed, blocking what little moonlight there was to offer. A small television was on in the far corner, showing static, casting a silver glow onto a man with a messy mane of red hair, his hands tied behind his back over the back of the chair his was sitting in. His head was down, and he was snoring.

The door opened quietly, and an elderly man with neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair entered into the room. He sat in an armchair facing the hard, wooden chair that Redmond was slumping off of.

Redmond went quiet, and peeked his eye open. He saw an unmistakable pair of brown leather shoes, and groaned.

“Can I sit in a fucking armchair, please?” He stretched backwards and swore loudly.

Hurst walked slowly behind Redmond, and cut the ropes around his wrists. Redmond tried to stand, but Hurst forced him back into the chair with alarming strength. “I’ll let you leave when Miss Jones arrives.”

“Miss Jones?” Redmond said. “Is she your stripper or-“

Hurst silenced him with a hand. “Please, don’t say something you might regret. Be patient, they will be here soon.”

Redmond glared at him, but stretched again with freedom, and made himself comfortable on the chair. As he stared into the television, he sighed, bored again.

Clio sat in the passenger seat alongside Domino, directing her to their destination, whilst Tawny and Stent silently perched on the edge of the back seat, hearts racing in anticipation. As they turned onto a quiet suburban street in North Finchley, Clio nodded up the road.

“Anywhere along here is fine.”

As Domino slowed down, she sent a quick glance to the back seat. Tawny nodded and sent a rapid text to Damon, to which he got an instant reply. He put the phone away, and took a deep breath, before looking at Stent and motioning out of the window.

Domino parked, but before she switched the engine off she turned to Clio; “It was nice meeting you, Miss?”

“Miss Jones,” she smiled back, and held a hand out. Domino shook it, and Tawny held his breath, waiting for Damon. But nothing happened.

Domino laughed nervously, and continued to clumsily shake her hand. Clio raised a quizzical eyebrow, but did not immediately withdraw.

 Eventually, Domino stopped, coughed awkwardly, and let her hand go. Stent and Tawny exchanged panicked glances as Clio reached for the door handle, whilst still, Damon remained absent.

“Wait, Miss Jones,” Tawny suddenly said, and Clio stopped before she had opened the door to turn around. “I was- I was wondering if you’d heard about the…” he trailed off, desperately looking to his friends for help.

“-Chamberlain, William Chamberlain,” Stent said suddenly. Tawny groaned inwardly, and Domino sent Stent an incredulous look. He turned beet red as he realized what he had said, and Clio, now casting them a suspicious stare, again tried to open the door, but Domino was quicker, and pressed the lock button on the dashboard.

Clio turned her head sharply to her, and was about to say something when they heard a tap on the back window.

A second later, Damon was standing at Clio’s window, pointing a small handgun at her head, and motioning for her to step out.

Stent almost collapsed as he sighed in relief at the sight of back up. Domino looked apologetically at Clio, but no one said a word as she unlocked the car again. Damon opened the passenger door, and Clio remained calm as she got out, and placed her hands in the air.

“We won’t hurt you, just do as I say,” Damon spoke clearly to Clio, not wanting to take any risks with this trained killer. He dictated her movements towards a house a few hundred yards away, and told Domino to follow them, quietly. As Damon walked up ahead, he kept his distance from Clio, with the gun aimed steadily at her chest.

Tawny looked at Domino; “Drive up to the house slowly, so we can try and see what’s going on inside.” She inched forward, and they kept their heads bowed as they watched what happened.

Damon kept the gun on Clio as he told her to knock on the door whilst he hid from view.  She knocked, and moments later the door opened outwards, blocking the inhabitant from Damon’s view briefly.

In this short moment, Clio kicked the door further open, and it swung into Damon.

The confusion saw her run into the house, quickly followed by Damon, still holding the gun, as the door spring on its hinges to shut behind them with a click.

The three in the car looked at each other before quickly scrambled out, but as they approached the house they realized they were unarmed. They stood, unsure what to do, before running towards the front window.

“I can’t see anything, can you?” Tawny said urgently, moving along the three separate glass panes that made up their only current way of finding out what the hell was happening.

“Nothing,” Stent replied, and Domino shook her head in confirmation. They backed away from the house, panting slightly, and tried to find another way in. There were no options, and the front door refused to yield to their aggressive and desperate attempts to enter.

They stood there for a few minutes, silently praying for something to happen.

Suddenly, a gun shot fired from inside the house, causing them to jump, before looking at each other, this time petrified. Tawny was the first to react, and grabbed the elbows of Domino and Stent, pulling them towards the car until they regained themselves and began running.

Then, a loud thump came from the upper floor of the house, and seconds later, Redmond climbed out of the window onto an adjacent roof, holding a rucksack. He spotted his three friends and waved at them, before he took a leap into a large hedge, just as Tawny looked up to see him. He landed with a tumble, but scrambled to his feet and ran towards them.

The front door opened, and Damon came running out at incredible speed, being chased from a growing distance by Jones. He roared, “Fucking run!”, but Tawny had already reached the VW with Stent and Domino, who jumped into the driver’s seat.

Tawny saw Damon and Redmond in fits of laughter as they reached their own vehicle, and made a phone call signal at Damon as they ripped away amidst the loud screech of tyres burning into the road.

There were a few minutes of quietness as Domino reached a clean stretch of tarmac and accelerated. Then, Stent spoke quietly.

 “I hope our pizza’s still there.”

Tawny began to chuckle, and soon all three were in cackles of relieved laughter.

“Fucking unbelievable,” Stent shook his head. “What d’you think was in the bag Redmond had?”

Tawny shook his head uncertainly; “Wouldn’t mind if it was some money.” He stared out of the window again, and the car fell into a reflective silence, as they fantasized about the fortune and riches that seemed so far away. Then Tawny’s phone rang.

“Redmond? Where are-”

“I dunno, they’re still chasing us,” he sounded panicked. “I dunno where we are, but-“

There was a loud crashing sound from the phone’s speaker, and a generous number of curses. Domino and Stent stared at Tawny as his tried to hear exactly what was happening. Then, there was what sounded like another gunshot, and the line went dead.

Domino kept driving, checking that they were not being followed, but then slowly parked up to the pavement. No one said a word, and they sat for a few moments. Tawny tried Damon’s phone again, but it was met with a voicemail message instantly. The same happened as Stent dialled Redmond’s number, and without speaking, Domino turned the car around and they drove, fast, back from where they had escaped, the only sound made by the desperate growling of the engine as dread filled their senses.