Chapter 26
297 Words
26
It’s a typical Manchester afternoon.
I walk with a rucksack over one shoulder. Collar turned up to the wind. A few hundred quid in one pocket. A fake passport in the other. I see a bus approaching behind me. Lime green. One of those small electric ones with its wipers on.
A fine drizzle hangs in the air. The bus shushes past in the wet, straight past the bus stop. An old man just misses it. He sighs and takes a seat inside the shelter, opening the local paper.
On the front page, there’s a headline next to an image of Rudenko: Surprise Witness Condemns Mafia Boss to Life Behind Bars.
The kid did good.
Christ knows where they moved him. I hope it’s somewhere better than the estates.
I heard on the radio that Detective Price was on the run from the cops.
They'll soon catch him. You know how I know? 'Cause he thinks he’s smarter than he is.
I smile to myself at the thought of him in the slammer with Rudenko. I round a corner, into an alley. Something about helping that kid. I dunno. It felt good. In a way no amount of booze, money, women, car-nicking or skull-bashing ever has.
It’s like after forty-odd years, I suddenly woke up.
I want to go straight.
And not just ‘cause I promised.
You feel lighter when you do good. You know?
I walk halfway down the street and stop at the side of a blue Mazda 6. I look around me. The coast is clear.
Yep, today feels like the start of a new journey. Wherever I’m headed, I’m gonna attempt to make a positive difference. Do something meaningful with my life.
Be a good citizen.
A good father.
A good human being.
Right after I steal this car.
Death & Back
Charlie Cobb #2
- Writer
