A World Apart (22 page)

For the past few years Neville has been wondering the city and to be here is so surreal for him. To be placed in such a dream location overnight with money to his name, a friend and a wide beaming ray of hope that he felt deep down. He has been down as low as you wouldn’t be able to imagine, utterly perplexed by the friendly atmosphere and slow way of life that put Neville’s heart at rest. Even after just a few hours Neville was thinking of staying indefinitely, leaving everything in the city behind that all appeared insignificant now. Remembering the note, he had been given he tried endlessly to come to a conclusion to its meaning, troublesome and torn by its complexity. Some of the craft shops were shutting in the distance, along with a gadget shop which was a small addition to a jewellers and a tall library that looked worn out although pleased that it was shutting early today. People started to decrease one by one and Neville tried to think of something to do for a few hours until he found out the meaning to his note. He pondered and couldn’t make his mind up so he just walked down the docks again occasionally window browsing, tempting himself on the things he could very well afford but in his state he had no reason for impulse purchase so he sighed and carried until the end where he met what looked like a disused viewing post that took some kind of old twenty pence pieces, Neville remembering these times and casting his mind back all those years ago.

‘The newspaper boy cycled as fast as he could to get to the top of the hill in time to get back home for his favourite show ‘the Beems’ which basically entailed two boys presenting the mornings news however they liked and doing whatever they liked, resulting in parental disapproval and un-dubbed content. The boy was sweating at an alarming rate; he papers digging into his skinny back. The evil newspaper owner always used to give him a large pile, more than the others anyway as in the owner’s eyes his family was frowned upon. The nice summer’s day lifted the moods of the busy villagers, helping to accomplish their daily duties without strenuous extremes. The sounds of engine’s waking and beginning their day forcibly, some tended to be more inclined to remain stationary, although the majority starting with ease. The aluminous flaps of the boy’s paper satchel swung open to the last few papers that were inside and by the looks of the boy it appeared to be a momentous achievement, looking at his watch and realising that he had beaten his old record by around two and a half minutes. The paper headline read:
‘DISMAY FOR THE LIONS AS COUNTRY COMES TO A STAND STILL’
relating to the dramatic defeat for England in a deciding match against Spain yesterday, where the country saw a three non-result, knocking England out of the running’s for the semi-finals against France or the Czech Republic. The newspaper dated Thursday 26
th
of March 2015, setting the buyer back four euros and ten cent, which the boy knew would upset the lady of Elms court and be the topic of conversation for the next few days. He always hated the way that people tending to unintentionally blame him for the increase, he paused and was slightly tempted to not deliver it today but shook the thought away and closed his satchel. He set off slowly down the hill free-riding down, legs detached from the pedals as he closed his eyes and felt the breeze gust into his face, straightening his bushy gathering of hair that his mother is always trying to trim. The hill’s decent was quite vertically proportioned which aided the speed of the bike, scaring the boy who slowly opened his eyes and reached for the breaks, placing his feet back on the damaged pedals. The boy zoomed around the corner at the end of the hill; nearly being mowed down by an oncoming car, the family inside didn’t take to kindly to his driving attitude and glared at his. The old lady, who always is visible at this time moaning at his time keeping, was nowhere to be seen, which weirdly disappointed the boy. Come to think of it he hadn’t seen her for a few days now; she must have taken a holiday to see her brother in Scotland again thought the boy, knowing most of her life as it was so kindly discussed most morning, hindering his progress.

Neville awoke from the daze and placed a coin in the viewing slot machine and jumped into position to look out at sea. He longed to see his family again and started to feel desperate as he really couldn’t adapt to the modern way of living, it felt so bland and that quiet compared to the segments of his past he could remember, snaps of muffled images that were so hard to unlock, as to was the reason for why he was here and what had happened all those years ago. Looking outbound at the light blue sea that darkened as it got further, he recalled him and his brother messing around and this brought a tear to his eye, making him feel even more cold and sodden from the rain. The pure white sky that formed in the telescopic lens was now in view, Neville turning the machine around ninety degrees when he saw a small hut that stood alone on a peer that went around half a mile out to shore. The shutters clambered down in front of his eyes, blackening his vision, so he lifted himself down to the ground and started to walk back, retracing his steps to the café. On the way he remembered the jewellery shop he saw and planned to peer through the window at the new watches and gadgets. It was getting late and the shops were now closed and the evening was made way for restaurants and drinkers alike to relax and enjoy their free time. Dark shadows grew larger down the hill decent close by Neville, accompanied by the clatter of a woman’s heel and loud conversation that echoed the narrow walkway.

Neville finally reached the glistening window of the jewellery shop, flabbergasted at the distance he had covered without realising it, taking him around twenty minutes to find his way back. He lent over towards the window pane of the shop, seeing his face in the reflection as he smiled when he saw what a wonderful display of jewellery. The cream rectangular display cabinet elegantly swirled in beyond the window, catching Neville’s eye and becoming one of his deepest desires to own one of the items on display. Items sparkled and gleamed at Neville, bracelets, rings, pennants, watches, earrings, wallets and pocket watches all in pristine condition and as shiny as the moons humming glow. The window display is divided into halves, one being modern and the other historic, which reinforced Neville’s emotion of abandonment as he spotted an old type watch that displayed a green backlight and the time only. The modern day watches are now equipped with holographic displays, calling facilities, identification and a downsized version of GPS and satellite navigation for the traveller. No of which appealed to Neville whatsoever, he preferred a watch to be plain and simply a watch, maybe one that tells the temperature and date but no of this modern day obsession to downsize everything into something so small. Neville continued to look at the digital watch and noticed the date in the top right hand corner, which displayed
:
26/03/2
1
and it was then that Neville was elated, rushing as he withdrew the note and placed it up against the windowsill, next to the watch the shone in the background and he looked from the note to the watch’s date repetitively, realising that he had overlooked something so simple. Neville had finally uncovered what the numbers relate to on the note, realising it must be a time, although the last three digits remained a mystery to him. Feeling like he had achieved something, he headed back up the street and headed for the docking bay where Roger had dropped him off earlier that morning. The café was luckily open and to Neville’s delight it would be open for a few more hours, enabling him to stay out of harm’s way, and plus he felt like spending some of the money he had, as it wasn’t very often he would have consecutive meals so he was making most of the time he had away from bother and sat down, asking for a menu from the tired waitress who recognised the man and greeted with a half-smile half strain.

‘I’ll have the fish salad and a regular latte…oh and some sparkling water please’ said Neville to the waitress who had been standing at his side for a few moments. Neville past the menu containing mainly fish dishes back to the lady, she quickly disappeared into the kitchen. A man entered walking slowly just as Neville’s drinks arrived and poured into their individual receptacles.

‘There you are sir’ said the lady, who was leaning over Neville and he noticed a small name badge just below her hair which said Melanie. Neville looked at the feasting dish below him and began eating immediately, the fish was so tasty and the spaghetti seemed to delicately trickle down his throat.

‘Getting warmer they say!’ said the man, leaning over his chair to face Neville, as Neville chocked silently on his food.

‘Are they? I’m not from around here’ replied Neville, finishing his prawn but still speaking with his mouth half full.

‘I thought I could tell, haven’t seen many travelling teenagers for a while’ said the man, who Neville now recognised was a policeman from his jacket hung over the back of his chair. Neville stood as still as a cat, he had always been scared of the police for moving him along and he started to think the same about the man opposite.

‘So, what brings you down here then?’ asks the policeman in a non-obtrusive way.

‘I’m…just visiting a friend…going back home in a few days though’ replied Neville nervously, which the policeman noticed.

‘You do look young to be visiting on your own’ said the policeman, sounding curious.

‘What’s with all the questions? Any way what are you doing in a place like this, I thought policemen patrolled the inner city areas’ snapped Neville, taking the policeman by surprise.

‘No reason, I’m here because of a tip-off from an anonymous caller about a man participating in illegal deals around here at midnight’ detailed the policeman.

‘So, you think it’s me do you?’ said Neville as he placed his cutlery down into his dish and his food that was gradually getting colder.

‘Not at all, I’m looking for a Duesbury…Michael Duesbury, do you know him?’ said the policeman as he starred at Neville who had pieces of spaghetti and seafood on the end of his fork, paused midair on the way to his mouth. Neville couldn’t believe it, was this same man that Roger had written in the note he gave him, Neville remained calm but inside he was deeply frozen.

‘You ok?’ said the policeman, looking suspiciously at his blank posture. Neville replied with a groan that to anyone else would appear ignorant, whereas he was utterly perplexed by what the policeman just told him.

‘More coffee?’ asked the waitress to them both. The policeman nodded enthusiastically as Neville remained dead to the world, fiddling around with the tablecloth. The policeman turned his chair slightly so that his body was leaning towards Neville, as Neville glanced over his shoulder whilst raising an eyebrow. The policeman lent back on the wobbly legs of the pine chair, reaching for his wallet and flipping it onto the table. Neville spotted his cards poking out of the wallet which said ‘Volt’ but his first name was covered by the thick layer of lather that lay across the cards. Neville wondered what kind of a person has a name like that in this day and age, to Neville Volt sounded like a superhero from one of his brother’s comics. Neville began secretly unveiling the note he was given earlier underneath the table, constantly checking for anyone’s glimpse at the thought of being caught with it.

‘Yeah, that Michael has been causing me havoc for a while now, been tryin’ to catch him for a few years. He’s always loitering around the D.L.P around midnight and illegally exporting things in and out of the country. I’m tired of chasing him. He’s causing the N.Y.P.D a right load of bother. When we do finally catch him though, there will be harsh words exchanged that’s for sure”!’ continued PC Volt, making Neville’s eyes widen as he gradually dives into the deep details, all adding up to this point. Neville read the note again, feeling like it was the only thing that was in his life at the moment. As he read the top line, it was staring him in the face as he replayed a segment of Volt’s voice in his head repeating ‘…the D.L.P’ which was written scruffily on his note and barely visible from the running ink.

‘What is the D.L.P?’ enquired Neville instantaneously as PC Volt was about to add more to the story.

‘It’s a place over by the docks in a small town called Sunnyside. You see that hut over there?’ said PC Volt, now standing and pointing out of the cafeteria window, which to Neville just looked like he was imagining the whole story. Neville leaned over to adjust his sight of the docking bay, to his surprise he spotted a small hut stationed alone close to the shore line, surrounded by grumpy grey breeze blocks and bouncy bark that had been bullied around the docks by the wicked wind. Neville couldn’t believe it, it was the hut he had zoomed in on when he was on his travels earlier.

‘Are you going to catch him then tonight?’ said Neville, trying to oversee Volt’s plans before he could initiate his own.

‘[laughs] Yes, hopefully I will. I didn’t mean to scare you if that’s why you asked?’ said PC Volt friendly.

‘No, no reason’ said Neville, his heart racing and he became all fidgety and restless.

‘Have your parents gone out for the day then and left you to explore the wonderful life of as a fishmonger [laughing]?’ said PC Volt, as he realised that Neville had been alone for some time now without any sight or mention of his parents.

‘Yeah, they are in New York and they have sent me here to stay with my uncle who’s a fisherman. He’s out working at the moment but says he will be back soon’ said Neville nervously but seemingly fast at coming up with an alibi. Volt remained quiet and there was a general pause in the room as PC Volt drank his coffee and Neville ordered some sparkling water which woke his insides immensely. Now that Neville has obtained so many details, he started to understand the note that Roger had given him. It detailed that he had to meet this man Michael at 11:45 at the hut, although he didn’t still know what the last three digits were in the note but remained sure that he had the key details and planned on setting off to meet the man in around six and a half hours. Neville toyed in the moment and desperately searched for something to do or many things to do that would by him time.