Fireproof (23 page)

"I hope you get to keep that body, Mike. I just love those tattoos."

"I've gotten rather attached to them myself."

Not for the first time, Cathy wondered if Mike would return or burn forever if it all went wrong on Saturday. At least with the normal death of a loved one you knew you had no choice but to get over it. The glimmer of hope that Mike's uncertain destiny offered was the key to a long period of painful wondering. If he went, there would be so many nights of lying awake and hoping. Would she ever be able to get on with her life? Could she find love again if she thought that Mike might return some day? She doubted it. The taxi driver was owed a phone call. Whatever Joe Murray decided, Cathy would take some very definite action in a bid to keep her man alive.

"What are you going to do after work?" Mike asked.

"I'd like to see you if you have time."

"That's the thing. I have time. Time to wait and worry. Even though I feel like the days are flying in, the hours are crawling. My head is filling up with possibilities and outcomes that I don't think I can really control. I can't move on this next thing until I know I can get you close to the bishop, in a habit that hasn't been stolen yet. Jim is working on the habit and I have blue-haired Denise tracking down the bishop. Her father plays golf with him so she has access to some of his contact numbers."

"You mean green-haired Denise."

"Nope, she dyed it again. And she dumped the guy she was seeing on Saturday night. She's told Jim that she's his girlfriend now."

"That girl has serious commitment issues."

"I know. Her hair will fall out one of these days if she doesn't mend her ways. Jim's over the moon though. He knows he'll be lucky to see the end of the week with her. But for now, Denise is showing him the time of his life, if you know what I mean."

"Stop winking, you filthy cad."

Mike dodged the pillow that Cathy launched at him. It hit a wall and harmlessly flumped to the floor.

"You better get back to the office, babe. Do you want to see me straight after work or do you want to go home and freshen up first?"

"I'll go home and get changed and then maybe we could go for a meal?"

"Sorted. Give me a ring-a-ding-ding when you're all set."

Mike offered to walk Cathy back to the centre but she declined. He nattered away into his mobile as he left. Cathy ran up the stairs to her bedroom and fired up her PC. A quick Google turned up an interesting piece of information on a journalist at the Andersonstown News. Not sure if she was doing the right thing, she dialled the paper's number and set a time and date for the journalist to visit the Youth Outreach Centre. Then she phoned Joe Murray.

"Hey Joe, where you going with that gun in your hand?"

"What?"

"Never mind. You owe me one decision. Have you made it yet?"

On the other end of the connection, Joe sucked air through his teeth. "I'm leaning towards taking the money and running, but I'm still not sure."

"Are you working today?"

"Yes."

"Come by my house and pick me up. We'll talk some more and I'll help you decide."

"How do I know this isn't a trap?"

"Oh for fuck sake, you were easy to find on Sunday. If I wanted you dead you would be."

"Can't be too careful. Meet me somewhere more public."

Cathy's knuckles whitened as she gripped the phone. "Fine. Pick me up outside The Beehive. You can't get more public than the Falls Road at lunchtime."

"I can be there in five minutes."

"Me too."

Cathy hung up and got dressed. She phoned Margaret on the way to the bar and said she needed to take the rest of the day off as well as the next day.

"Certainly. Is everything all right?"

"Yeah. It's just that Mike might have to leave town for a while on Saturday. I want to spend a bit of time with him just in case."

"Such a nice boy. Take him out for something to eat won't you? I've seen more meat on Good Friday."

"Thanks Margaret."

The taxi was waiting for her when she got there. She sat in the back.

"Where to, love?"

"How far will ten grand get me?"

"Maybe not all the way, but it'll get us started."

"Drive towards the international airport. I have a feeling this is going to be a long conversation."

Joe drove up the littered and graffiti-plagued Falls Road, then the slightly less littered Glen Road and was soon on the country road to the airport. Long grass on the edge of the road dominoed in the taxi's wake. They bumped and bounced along the potholed tarmac on suspension built for motorway driving.

"So," Cathy said, "can I assume that since ten grand would get me started that this is no longer about getting over your fear of a bullet in the head and now simply a matter of finding your price?"

"I'm still worried about getting clipped. But I don't want to run the risk of getting on the wrong side of your friend either. It seems to me that the most sensible thing to do is get the fuck away."

"I think you might be on to something."

"Good. Thing is, if I'm going to uproot my family, I need more than a puny ten thousand to get me far enough away to feel comfortable and to convince my wife to keep her beak shut about leaving her family and friends behind."

"I understand. Why don't you just tell me how much it's going to cost?"

"Half a million."

When Cathy found her pocket-sized packet of tissues in her handbag she wiped the tears of laughter from her face.

"Are you mad? It'd be cheaper to have you and the First Minister whacked untraceably. No way, Jose."

Joe's face went red. He adjusted his rear view mirror to look Cathy in the eyes. His eyebrows were knotted together in a scowl.

"Don't threaten me with that again, bitch. If you do, I'll stop this car and leave you out here."

"And lose out on some free cash? Not to mention running the risk of death? I don't think so. You need to set your sights a little lower, Joe. I think thirty thousand is more than generous."

Mike might have an endless supply of cash in his sock drawer but there was no need to be a complete walkover. Some things were best governed by principle.

"Are
you
mad, wee girl? That wouldn't keep my family for a year. I'm trying to plan a lifetime away from Belfast."

"Joe, you could move to Wexford and do nothing for a year on that money. Then you could get a wee job with a taxi firm. Who'll be looking for you? I can guarantee that Frankie is in no state to."

"But you're going to tell me that, aren't you? I don't just want this money for an easy life. I have to make sure that I have enough money to buy a new identity for me and the family, as well as a deposit on a house and some plastic surgery."

"Plastic surgery? Do you not think you're going a little far with this whole relocation thing? You're not a mafia rat."

"I'm not thinking about a disguise. I'm thinking that my wife will be a whole lot more receptive to this news when I promise her a new pair of tits. She always complains that hers are too small."

"So romantic. I think thirty thousand will cover that. All of those things are cheaper than they used to be. On top of that, you're a taxi driver. You'll get work in any place you end up in. I'm not exactly condemning you to the poverty line."

"Two-hundred-thousand."

"Fifty."

"One-hundred."

"Sixty."

"Eighty."

"Seventy-five."

"Ah fuck. All right then, deal."

"You drive a hard bargain, Joe. That's much more than I expected to pay."

"It's a hell of a lot less than what I wanted."

"Just be happy with what you've got. And factor in a value of not getting a bullet in the head. That's worth a few bob."

"So when do I get the money?"

"Sunday." By then they would know if Mike was safe.

"That soon? That's good news, at least."

"Now the glass is half-full. Good man."

At this stage, they were almost at the airport. Joe took a minor road which he said would lead them back to West Belfast. Cathy thought this was a perfect spot for what she had to do next. She pulled the filleting knife she'd taken to John Fisher's house a lifetime ago from her hand bag, grabbed a handful of Joe's ear and held the blade against his throat.

"Pull over. There's a lay-by just up ahead."

Joe didn't need to be told twice. The car rolled gently to a stop.

"What are you doing?" Joe asked. His voice was calmer than Cathy would have expected.

"I just have to make sure, Joe. Sorry, but this is very important to me."

The Chinese restaurant, the meal, the company; all perfect. The restaurant didn't serve Guinness on tap, but Mike didn't find the Chinese beer too substandard. Combined with the sweet and sour pork they complemented each other well. Cathy was stunning, as usual. She'd tied back her dark hair and plaited it intricately. As always her makeup was subtle but at the same time proved that she had made an effort to look good. She wore a black dress that didn't reveal much skin but highlighted her contours like an oil slick. Her perfume tantalised, even over the appetising scents of the restaurant.

Mike thought he was relaxed when they sat down to eat, but halfway through the meal Jim sent him a text message to let him know he had successfully swiped his auntie's habit. Every muscle in Mike's body seemed to unwind a little. Denise had phoned him on his way out of Cathy's house and confirmed the bishop's location for the next day. Everything was falling into place.

"Did you get time off tomorrow?" Mike asked.

"Yes, Margaret was fine about it. She told me to take you somewhere to fatten you up."

"Maybe after we see the bishop. You mentally prepared for the advances of an aged man of the cloth?"

"As prepared as a girl can ever be. The things I do for you."

There was a serious edge to Cathy's voice but Mike chose not to pursue her. If something was playing on her mind she would tell him in her own time.

"So, what would you like to do now, pretty lady?"

"How about we pick up a bottle of wine, a six-pack of Guinness and head back to yours?"

"Cadbury will be there."

"That's okay. He usually goes to bed early. I'd like to say hello to him anyway. See if he can read my fortune."

"You might be better off not knowing what the future holds."

"No, I'd like to know. This is the weirdest time I've ever experienced. I'd like some idea of where it's going to take me."

"It's up to you, but bear in mind that Cadbury is utterly tactless. It's not a vindictive thing. He just sees things very simply and can't seem to sugar-coat things."

"Did you get him to read yours?"

"No! Well, I asked him, but he couldn't see anything. I don't know if that means I don't have a future or I can't be read because I've been dead more than once."

"How do you know then?"

"I suggested he put his newfound talent to good use and he put an ad up in the newsagent's window for palm readings. After three screaming women ran out my apartment door and another one tried to claw his eyes out, I suggested he take the ad down again. Probably the most short-lived business venture ever."

"When did this happen?"

"About three o'clock. The four of them arrived together, so he managed to freak them all out in one fell swoop."

"Now I really want to know what he can see."

Mike shook his head. He wouldn't tell her what to do though. He respected her too much.

After settling the bill, Mike and Cathy flagged a taxi and got out at the off licence down the road from The Beehive. Mike carried the plastic bag full of drink in one hand and held Cathy's hand in the other. They took their time crossing the road to get to Mike's place. They were talking about their favourite films. Mike was into slapstick comedies and old kung fu movies. Cathy was a gangster movie freak. They were trying to find a film they both loved when Tony stepped out of a dark alley. He held what looked like a wooden chair leg in his right hand.

"What's the craic, Tony?"

"I'm going to kill you, dickhead."

"I beg to differ."

Without letting go of Cathy's hand, Mike swung his plastic carrier bag full of alcohol at Tony's head. It connected with a thud and a smash. The bottle of wine was fucked. So was Tony. He crumpled into a heap and lay on the litter strewn footpath, twitching.

"We'll have to go back to the offy," Mike said. "Thanks a lot, Tony."

After another trip to the off licence they passed Tony's still unconscious body on the way to Mike's apartment. Someone had stolen one of his trainers. Cadbury opened the door before Mike pulled his keys out of his pocket.

"Hey, Cadbury. The clairvoyance thing is really working out well. Thanks."