Santa

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

She looked through the list of pick-up addresses that Sally had sent her. There were several kids from her own patch on the Loughborough and Stockwell Estates in Brixton. She noted Leroy Prentice’s young brother Benny was among them. There were a few around Streatham, Camberwell and one from Dulwich village. She would have to start the round quite early. She picked up the Mercedes Vario from a council yard in Tooting. Gradually the bus filled up. The vehicle was big for narrow residential streets and she needed all her skill and concentration. The kids were buzzing with excitement. Sally pushed in a CD of Christmas songs and encouraged everyone to sing. At the wheel of the big machine Paula joined in. One song was the carol “Once in Royal David’s City.” Her mind flashed back to her own childhood at school, the nativity play and the janitor dressed up as Santa. Even her deepest cynicism couldn’t hold back the simple innocence of these children’s voices. She had plenty of troubles on her mind, but here in this moment she was truly happy. She found the final stop. It was a surprisingly exclusive address in Alleyn Park, Dulwich Village. The houses were grand and surely only millionaires could live there. The house had a wide front and was set back from the road. A Bentley Continental and a Rolls-Royce were on the block-paved driveway. A man was waiting outside holding the hand of boy of about ten. They boarded and found seats in the back.

“Next stop West End,” she called out.

A cheer went up and the singing re-started with “Frosty the Snowman.” Paula steered her little cargo of humanity through Lambeth and crossed the River Thames toward Millbank. The Houses of Parliament reflected in the water and all the city sparkled in the darkness. It didn’t need much imagination to believe in the magic of Christmas. Sally came up to talk in her ear.

“So far so good. It’s so beautiful.”

“That last pick-up was an odd one.”

“Yeah, it’s not one I really know. The father’s on his own and the boy needs friends and company. I think he’s privately tutored, but that can’t provide everything.”

“Is it confidential or can you tell me what’s wrong with him?”

“Sad story. Premature birth and lack of oxygen. There’s a couple like that but you’ve got the whole catalogue of challenges back there. All the same, a song levels everyone and then raises them back up.”

“Better get them singing. We’re about to see the Christmas tree in Trafalgar Square.”

She pushed on through the traffic to Piccadilly and Regent Street. Police security was tight in response to terrorist threats and attacks. In theory she could use the Oxford Street bus lane but it didn’t surprise her when a couple of police officers stopped her, machine guns in hand.

“Red buses only,” said a young severe looking constable.

“Come on, I’ve got a load of kids on here,” Paula said.

“Move on or we’ll do you for obstruction.”

Paula fished in her jeans for her warrant card police ID. She handed it to the officer.

He studied it and glanced at her.

“Come on mate. It’s all about community relations, you know all that shit.”

“Go on then. If I’m wrong and you run down pedestrians, or you’re a bomb, I might as well put this g*n to my head. You know that don’t you?”

“I know that.”

She leaned out the window and kissed his cheek. He blushed and smiled.

“I think you’re the loveliest woman who’s ever kissed me.”

“I think you’re the loveliest copper I’ve ever kissed.”

He waved her through. What she’d said was true. He was the first copper she’d ever kissed. She noted his shoulder service number. He was sure to get a Christmas card with her thanks.

She crawled among the buses along Oxford Street. It felt great to be V.I.P.s. At last she arrived at Marble Arch and squeezed the bus into the stop zone that she’d used so many times, as a London driver on the 73 Service.

“If anyone wants to take a stroll back to get some photos of the Oxford Street lights you’ll find me here. Don’t worry if you can’t see me, I might have to do a circuit if they move me on. Thirty minutes max, OK?”

She pressed the button to open the doors and the bus emptied out. She hit the handbrake and went to the back to help with the tail lift for the wheelchairs. She was aware of a couple of figures standing close behind her. She stood and swivelled round.

“That was some master stroke to get this thing up Oxford Street and get parked here. Thanks for that,” said a male voice.

In front of her was a tough-looking big man, his arm around the shoulder of a boy wearing a wide innocent grin on his face.

“No worries, I used to be a London bus driver.”

“What? Someone like you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t just say it, someone like, kind and lovely.”

“I’m not sure if that’s s****m or bus driverism.”

The guy started to laugh.

“Do I know you?”

“Did you ever catch the 73 service Oxford Circus to Stoke Newington?”

“No.”

“Did I ever put you in jail?”

“What?”

“I’m a cop in my day job.”

For a moment he stared at her as she stared back.

“I just don’t f*****g believe it,” he said.

“That’s just what I was thinking.”

“I didn’t recognize you with clothes on. I didn’t mean, you know, like that way. Why do we always meet in the dark in a heap of diesel engines?”

“Must be heaven’s plan.”

The guy looked around him. He seemed oddly awkward and uncertain.

“This is my boy, Justin.”

“Lovely to meet you Justin. I’m Paula.”

She looked back to the man.

“I can’t swear in front of your lad, but you can probably guess my feelings, Mr Muswell. I wasn’t expecting to meet you tonight.”

“All that’s behind us. Please, please, Paula, we can wipe everything clean and start from here.”

“I don’t think we can.”

“We can. Please. Look I’m going to pop over to get a shot of the lights. Drop us off last and we’ll talk, OK? Please?”

She nodded agreement. It made sense to drop him last and go home to Camberwell in the bus. The situation was perplexing. He seemed like a different man, like a father, like a caring human being. All the rules around complaints against police prohibited contact with the complainant. Her career could end sooner than she thought. On the other hand, she might advance her enquiries into his labor force and his relationship with the McCarthy brothers. And on another hand all together, she might spend some time with a man who had the balls to put his fingers up to the system and carve a life from his own strength and desires. She couldn’t deny to herself the attractiveness of such a man. There was goodness in him and that was never a bad place to start.

When everyone was reloaded she pulled away, this time running down to Hyde Park Corner and taking Piccadilly down to the Circus. As they were rolling down Whitehall toward Westminster she noticed Max Muswell standing up just behind her and addressing the other passengers.

“Right, Listen. Anyone want a McDonald’s?”

All the kids bellowed approval. Paula glanced back at Sally, knowing she would be having the same thoughts. Many of the parents just wouldn’t have the money. Mr Muswell was something of a bull in a china shop and certainly a bull.

“That’s fantastic. Meadowchef Foods will treat everyone as a Christmas commercial promotion so have whatever you want. The taxman will pay. I’ll come round with a list for orders. Driver, can you find a big yellow M on your way home?”

So, he’d just taken over the show. The bus would be a mess and she’d spend half the night cleaning it up. All the same he meant well and the kids would love it. She opted to get out of Central London and headed for the Elephant and Castle. She stopped outside the McD in Walworth Road.

“That’s everyone except our driver,” he said, as he stepped down onto the sidewalk.

“Big Tasty meal. Full fat Coke, please,” she said.

“That’s it. God, I love a woman who doesn’t mess about and gets stuck into a bit of grub.”

“And they say romance is dead,” she replied.

“Ketchup?”

“Loads.”

He held her eyes with a quick appraising sweep of her face. His expression was tough but with an edge of good humor. Even though he seemed to cast himself as Mr Big he was happy to go to stand in line with a huge order. Also he was happy to pay.

She watched him walk in. He was broad and moved in a way that made a few youths blocking the entrance step smartly aside. You just knew you wouldn’t want to see him angry.

She looked to her side to see Melissa Prentice.

“Paula, I didn’t know who he was, that Mr Muswell.”

She could see some sort of anguish in her face. She was a good, strangely optimistic and innocent woman. She was blessed with a degree of simplicity that had left her open to a***e. Both her partners had disappeared back into the scenery and she’d been abandoned with two boys. Leroy was a petty criminal on the edge of the gangs and Benny had learning issues.

“I was talking to him about you. He seemed so keen to know why you were driving the bus, and all about you.”

“I hope you told him I was the best cop in Brixton.”

Melissa hesitated.

“I told him about Leroy. I told him you let him go. I wanted to say you were kind.”

Paula looked back into her open troubled face. Now she was in the s**t.

“When he said the treat was on Meadowchef Foods I realized I might have done wrong. I’m so sorry.”

“No problem, Melissa. He’s a kind man I think.”

The woman seemed relieved and went back to her seat. Inwardly Paula was horrified. That one moment of weakness, or kindness, or mercy, or dereliction of duty just kept on haunting her. She seemed caught up in a whirlpool of coincidences that was about to drag her under. Perhaps he wouldn’t put two and two together and realize that Leroy was the guy who’d run away. He seemed a man very much on top of every game. She wasn’t finished by any means. His labor force was his weak point and he knew that she knew. Since her expedition to Peckham she knew a little more. There was likely to be a fight ahead, but her greatest enemy was probably Inspector Bissel. He was a young guy on the way up, and old sweat constables were not the modern police flavor.

Sally directed the singing while they waited. At last Max Muswell returned with a large cardboard box and distributed all the meals. She pulled away, the aroma of food heavy in the air and causing her stomach to rumble.

“You don’t want to wait until it’s cold,” he said appearing at her side with her meal.

“I’ll grab a bite each time we stop.”

“Have a drink of your Coke.”

He popped the straw into the cap and held it while she took a sip.

“That’s kind but against all the rules, so that’s the first and last for now.”

“I wouldn’t encourage you to break the regulations, officer.”

She could hear a smile in his voice, but kept her eyes on the road. This situation was more than a little bizarre.

One by one she dropped off the passengers until only Sally, Max, and his son remained. In her mirror she could see a scene of cardboard and plastic devastation. The windows had been smeared by greasy fingers, ketchup and dill pickles littered the floor and seats. It was 11:00 p.m. and she wouldn’t be home until midnight. In the morning she’d have to clean the bus and take it back to its yard in Tooting. She dropped Sally at her home in Herne Hill and headed for Dulwich.

“You’re an ace at driving this thing.”

Max and Justin had seated themselves behind her.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about this mess, I’ll get this cleared and like new in the morning. I’ll get a couple of real good blokes to sort it out.”

“How are they going to do that?”

“They’ll turn up and fix it.”

“They don’t know where the bus will be.”

“That’s police training for you. I hadn’t thought of that ’cause I assumed you’d tell me.”

She thought hard. Did she really want any more to do with him? The offer of some help was tempting and since her shift started at 2:00 p.m. she wouldn’t have too much time.

“Are these straight up men?”

“I’ll send a couple of real pros. It’s the same fellas who clean my Rolls-Royce.”

She pulled up outside his house. She operated the doors.

“I’ll park the bus at the Camberwell Community Center. What time can you send your guys?”

“Nine-thirty on the dot.”

“Nice to meet you, Justin. Did you like the Christmas lights?” she asked the lad.

“Yeah, I’m getting an iPhone X for Christmas.”

“You’re a lucky man.”

He beamed at her and reached out for her hand. She took it.

“Dad said you’re a very pretty lady.”

She looked past him to where Max was waiting just outside the bus. For once he wasn’t fixing her with his searching expression.

“Was he wearing his glasses?”

“No.”

“That explains it then.”

“He said I could tell you.”

“Your dad’s a bit sneaky.”

“Yeah. He hides my iPad when it’s meal times.”

“Come on, Justin. Busy day tomorrow,” said Max.

“He doesn’t wear glasses,” Justin added.

Paula chuckled as she closed the doors. She watched them as they walked up to the house, his arm around the boy’s shoulders. Doubtless he was a bruising bastard to deal with but in this moment there was something touching about his unconditional love for the young man. Was this the child that his wife had left him with? Was this the kid he hadn’t fathered? Guessing Max Muswell’s character, he didn’t seem the sort of man to care for such a child. For sure she was never going to know what sort of man he was. With a bit of luck she’d never see him again.