NaNo 2017 - Part 3

Next character is up.

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 – Anthony –

He was awake already, but the phone still startled him. He must have knocked it in the night; he never let it rest against the metal base of the bedside light if he could help it, but now the whole thing resonated like a theremin. In reaching for it, he overturned the stack of pill boxes and woke Kayleigh before he managed to answer it.

‘Yeah…?’

‘Who the bloody heck is it ringing at this time?’

‘Tony? Hi, it’s Steve.’

‘Don’t they know you’re not back on red calls yet!’

‘I know it’s you, Steve, it says so on the screen.’

‘Ste? Tell him to sling his hook.’

‘Kay says get lost, Steve. Make it fast, okay?’ Kayleigh muttered obscenities into the pillow. ‘And why are you calling me, anyway? You know I’m not on red cover. It’s Chirag’s week, isn’t it?’

‘He’s already here, Tony. The readings here are getting worse. Pressure keeps spiking.’

‘So, why…?’ But Steven cut over him.

‘Listen, Tony, it’s serious. It’s serious, and we need you.’ There was a sudden burst of noise down the line.

‘Ste?! Steve, you still there?!’

The room suddenly shook. ‘The fuck is that?’ Kayleigh blurted, sitting bolt upright. The curtains swayed on the pole. Another pillbox tipped off the bedside table, scattering its contents across the carpet. Anthony steadied the lamp before speaking to the handset again. ‘Steve?’

‘…Still here.’

‘Spiking? Was that one just now?’

‘Yeah. Look, I know you’re not back on the early gig yet, and I wouldn’t be doing this if I could see another choice, mate.’

‘Have you opened the emergency valves?’

‘Emergency valves?’ Kayleigh echoed nervously.

‘We’ve done all of it. Tony, mate… we need you here.’

‘Alright, keep it together. I’m on me way.’

‘But it’s not your week!’ Kayleigh protested. She slid out of bed and stood by the window, peering out at the street.

‘Just keep the pressure down. We don’t need any more like that.’

‘Well it isn’t that simple ri –’ but he had already hung up and Steve’s voice snapped in two.

Kayleigh suddenly shouted and flung the window open. ‘Oi, get out of it!’ Anthony turned, yesterday’s clothes already in hand.

‘What’s going on?’

‘Someone out there fucking about with the car again,’ Kayleigh chuntered, pointing down to the driveway. Anthony could just about hear the slap-slap of running feet on pavement.

‘Look, Kay, just… just go back to bed. It’s a red call, I’ve got to go.’

‘But it’s…’ and the room shook again. She looked around, at the pictures swinging on the wall and the headboard wobbling back and forth. ‘Alright… go,’ she said, voice low. He knelt on the bed, leant over and kissed her. She responded, then pushed him back a moment later. ‘Go on, go and get dressed.’

When he emerged from the bathroom five minutes later, he found her stood outside, a glass of water in one hand and a palm full of pills in the other. ‘Don’t forget these.’

‘I knew there was a reason why I married you,’ Anthony remarked. ‘Was it the same lot as last time?’

‘Mmm?’

‘The car,’ he explained, taking the pile of tablets from her and downing the lot in one gulp.

‘Couldn’t tell… I ‘spose so,’ she sighed. ‘You wouldn’t rather get a taxi? I’ll call five-oh.’ She rested a hand on his chest, feeling for the rhythm beneath his ribs.

‘There’s no time, Kay,’ he said, briefly clasping her hand then striding down the stairs and fishing his coat off the newel post. His steel toe-capped work boots stood by the door. As he sat on the ledge to tie the laces, Kayleigh came downstairs, wrapping a dressing gown around herself.

‘You asked about emergency valves?’ she began.

‘Just standard procedure in these situations,’ he assured her. ‘I’m going to get there and find Chirag has it all under control, don’t worry.’

Kayleigh did not look mollified, but changed tack. ‘I’m going to have a look what they’ve done,’ she said, reaching for the chain on the door, and she was outside before he could protest. Anthony took a moment, let the murmur in his chest settle, then stood and took a swig from the glass of water she had left on the telephone table. A gust of cold night air hit him in the face as he stood in the doorway; he felt the murmur again, a little more insistent.

A few streetlights were flickering. One now leant back from the road. At number 53, some tiles slid from the roof and shattered on the path. Standing beside Kayleigh in the half-light, he took in the vandalism. His car, not exactly an extravagant one, was now covered in a lumpy mass that looked (and smelt) suspiciously like manure.

‘Same as before,’ Kay muttered furiously. ‘Bloody, fucking savages. I’ll call you a taxi, you can’t drive around like that!’

‘Kay, don’t worry,’ he assured her, unlocking the door with a click of the keyfob.

‘But what if they’ve done something…?’

‘They didn’t last time, Kay,’ he reminded her calmly, though he felt anything but. Still, he wasn’t going to show it, and he pulled the door open. ‘Look,’ he offered, settling in the seat, ‘I’ll get everything under control and be back by ten. Why don’t we get up to the White Horse for lunch? My treat.’

‘Come back soon,’ she agreed, then crouched low to kiss him again. ‘Any problems, you call me, you hear? Anything at all.’

‘I will.’

She stepped back as he pushed the ignition, and he watched the rear view, seeing her turn back into the house.

He went steadily to start with, wishing he could get the smell out of his nose, but the stench was coming through the air intakes. He took a right onto Princes Avenue, passed Pearson Park, and followed it down to Spring Bank, thankful that, despite the tremors, most people were peering out from behind their windows, rather than the kerbside. So very few people saw (or smelt) him go by. He noted the familiar buildings as he passed, looked for the gaps where an over-enthusiastic Luftwaffe had removed bits of the terraces, and soon reached the crossroads with Ferensway. He wondered how Steve was, and whether he had called anyone else in? If Chirag was on site and couldn’t fix it, he didn’t know what use he was going to be, but he supposed being there might calm some nerves. He was sure they would be working on bringing the pressure down slowly. It was procedure, after all.

The first sign of trouble was approaching Mytongate. A gaggle of ambulances, police cars, and fire engines loomed up behind him and shot by, streaking across the junction and vanishing towards the east.

‘Easy, boys,’ Anthony remarked, the strobing blue lights still stinging his eyes, though he pushed down on the gas rather more vigorously than before. He felt the thud in his ribs and the little stab of pain. Well, he thought, he could do no worse than follow them.

He lost sight of the flashing lights out by Salt End, turned left and took the familiar route across country. He supposed he wasn’t the only one making this trip. There had been another couple of tremors, he was sure, and he thought he might have seen a police helicopter or two streaking through the cold, blue dawn. He drove by instinct, taking the turns without realising he had reached them, and zooming through the country lanes, all the while keeping his eyes on the clock. Realising he had not heard a word uttered since his own hushed remark, he prodded the radio and felt his tension ease.