I were standing on the grass out by the East Bloater Road when the Meat Wagon came past. She slowed a bit then drove on up towards town. I were glad of that. Sight of the Meat Wagon never had been summat to warm a feller’s cockles.
Standing on the grass out by the East Bloater Road didn’t seem such a good idea now. A wind had started up from the North that went through your clothes like a gutting knife. But I couldn’t go yet. Not unless I wanted to be passing the Meat Wagon on the way in. So I paced around for a bit and smoked two fags, thinking how I really ought to stop coming out this way cos nothing were to be gained from it. Then I got back in me car and pointed her homeward.
She were a Ford Capri. I’d always driven a Ford Capri and always would do, long as I still had a choice in the matter. Despite the chill and the damp and the mood I were in she started first time, which cheered us up no end. As I slotted her into third she backfired like a bastard. Been doing a fair bit of backfiring of late she had. Hole in the exhaust like as not, and once you gets one of them they only gets bigger. Unless I got her down the garage for fixing she’d get louder and louder until the noise were hurting folks’ ears. But that’d have to wait, being as I were skint. And besides, she started running smooth once I shifted her up to fifth.
Judging by the way the sun were slipping down beyond the Deblin Hills it were getting late. I put me foot down and swung her into the first long bend on the way back to Mangel. It were nice and straight for a mile or so now with woods either side and no other vehicle in sight. Rarely was folks out this way. Didn’t lead you nowhere you might want to go, see. I opened her up and tipped her over the ton mark. Course, I were taking a risk shifting at that pace. But like I says, no one were about. And I were meeting Legs and Finney down the Paul Pry in a bit. If I missed the start I’d be on catch-up and I didn’t like that. I liked to swill at the same rate as them I’m swilling with.
The trees was hanging over and it were right dark down that stretch, so by the time I saw the Meat Wagon parked longways across the road I were near enough atop it. I braked hard and thought about swinging her left or right around the big white van. But there were no room for that. It were the Meat Wagon or one of the big trees either side. And by the time I’d decided on which trunk looked softest it were too late for either of em. The Meat Wagon it were, with Lee Munton’s eyes glaring out at us from the driver side and the shadow of Jess peering over his shoulder. I squeezed me eyes tight and pushed down on that middle pedal for all I were worth and a lot more besides. My head were filled with screeching rubber and a thump thump thump the like of what you’d never heard. When I felt the wheels flip out from under us I knew I were done for. Not from the car crash, like. But from what the Muntons’d do to us for fucking up the Meat Wagon.
The car stopped.
I kept me eyes shut, thinking how there hadn’t been much of a bang on impact. Not even a little pop as bumper met panel. But I had an explanation for that one, see. I’d slammed into the van so hard that the noise had gone and bust me ear drums.
Then Lee started talking and I knew my ear drums was right as plumb wire. ‘Alright, Blake,’ he says.
‘Alright, Lee. Alright, Jess.’
Jess moved his head a bit.
The Meat Wagon were but a few inches from where I were sat. Somehow the car had stopped with my window sideways-on to Lee’s and back-to-front, like if we’d been passing each other in the street and stopped for a chat. ‘Well,’ says Lee, smiling like we was still mates. ‘Reckon you needs yer tyres checkin’. Eh, Jess?’
‘Aye.’
‘Needs his tyres checkin’ alright. See em slip out from under him just now did you, when all he done were apply a bit o’ brake pad?’
‘Aye. Flipped out. Brake pads.’
‘Know what my impartial advice to him would be?’
‘Aye.’
‘Go on then.’
‘Dunno.’
‘S’right, Jess. You dunno. And Blake here dunno neither. Thass why I gives impartial advice. Wouldn’t bother if folks knew it already. Be no use to em, would it.’
‘Reckon not.’
‘S’right. Well, I’d say to him this: Bring yerself down Munton Motors and Baz’ll sort you out.’ Lee stared at us for a full half minute. When he piped up again he weren’t smiling. ‘For tyres, like.’
He knew I were skint. Every bastard in Mangel knew I were skint, I reckoned. But I put on a smile anyhow and says: ‘Ta. I’ll think about it.’
‘You do that,’ he says. ‘Cos our Baz, he wants you to know that there’s no hard feelin’s. Sometimes he has a drink an’ gets a bit lairy an’ forgets hisself is all. But he didn’t mean nuthin’ by it. And he don’t want you gettin’ no wrong ideas about him by it. Juss get yerself down there and he’ll sort you out for tyres. Alright?’
He stared at us until I says: ‘Aye, alright.’
‘Smart. Cos if there’s one thing I don’t like iss hard feelin’s. And our Baz, well, he ain’t got one of em in his whole body. Just a bit of a boy is our Baz. That right Jessie?’
Jess’s lips didn’t move at all. ‘Bit of a boy.’
‘Alright, Blakey. Alright. Long as everyone gets along, thass all I asks. Now Blakey, what was you doin’ up yonder just now.’
‘Yonder?’
‘Aye. On the roadside up there. What was you up to?’
I looked past him at Jess. He hadn’t moved once. Not even when he’d been talking. He were like a big statue carved out of sandstone. Only time he ever said summat were when Lee spoke to him. Even then it were only aye or summat. ‘Well,’ I says. ‘Ain’t much of a reason for it really.’
The Munton brothers stared.
‘Just comes out here now and then to...’ I tried to swallow but it weren’t coming easy. So I coughed a bit instead. ‘You know, look at the scenery an’ that.’
There weren’t much else I could say so I sat tight and waited, listening to Jess’s breathing.
Lee stuck his big head out the window at us. When he spoke I could smell what he’d had for lunch. Mixed grill, I reckoned. ‘Just so long as you ain’t plannin’ on leavin’ town.’
‘Leavin’? No one leaves Mangel, Lee.’
‘S’right. Specially not you. Don’t want our mates leavin’, does we Jess? Wants em here where we can see em.’ He fired up the engine, eyes still stuck on mine like a terrier’s teeth on a robber’s ankle. And suddenly he were smiling again, like he hadn’t ever not been smiling. ‘Workin’ tonight?’
‘Nah. Night off.’
‘Just so long as you ain’t got yerself sacked. Don’t go gettin’ yerself sacked, Blake. Not for a couple of weeks anyhow.’
‘Ain’t intendin’ on it.’
‘Smart. And remember - tyres waitin’ for you at Munton Motors.’
The Meat Wagon lurched forward and headed townward. I pulled in on the verge and had a fag. Then I looked at my watch and headed townward meself.