Runaway (12 page)

I dug a big Reader’s Digest AA book out of the glove compartment and by the light of the courtesy lamp flicked through pages of maps until I found us. ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘We go straight through Strathaven and stay on the A726 till we see a turn-off for Lesmahagow. That’s the most direct route for getting on to the A74 now.’ Which is how I became our navigator for the journey. By accident and default.

We got safely on to the main road south in the end, and ploughed off into the dark of the night. I was aware of the shadows of treeless hills rising up around us, the old van labouring up inclines, and then gaining speed on the descent. Jeff seemed to be doing his best to run over the rabbits that kept darting across our path, as if it were some kind of a game.

There was a long, slow climb up and over Beattock Summit. I could feel the wind up there buffeting the high sides of our van, and saw Jeff fighting the wheel to keep us in our lane. No one spoke much during those first couple of hours. It was a time of reflection, of ugly reality setting in.

Then Dave’s voice piped up from the back. ‘Gonnae have tae stop for a pee soon.’

It was another fifteen minutes before we saw the lights of a transport café up ahead in the darkness, like an island of light floating in the black of the night. When I think of that night, I wonder what the odds were of our stopping at that café, at that moment. But I have since learned that fate, and Dave’s bladder, work in the strangest ways.

Tall, four-headed lamp posts spilled their yellow light on to a wide gravel parking area as we pulled off the road. There were several lorries, drawn up side by side, a van and a couple of private cars. We all climbed stiffly out into the cold wind that swept down from the hills above us, stamping the blood back into sleeping limbs, and went into the smoky warmth of the café. Some lorry drivers who clearly knew one another sat around a couple of Formica-topped tables that were marked with coffee rings and cigarette burns, and sticky with spilled sugar. A couple of other tables were occupied by solitary travellers, and an elderly woman behind the counter asked us in a velvety-rich smoker’s voice what we would like. We ordered coffees and Tunnock’s Tea Cakes, and took it in turns to use the toilet.

As I waited my turn I noticed a young man leaning against the far end of the counter, sucking on a cigarette and casting an interested eye in our direction. He wore jeans and Cuban-heeled boots, and a chequered shirt with its sleeves carefully folded up to the elbow, revealing tattoos on both forearms. He had the classic Elvis, or Teddy boy, haircut, heavily greased and swept back to a duck’s arse, a tall quiff trembling precariously over an exposed brow. A black leather bomber jacket was draped over the back of the chair behind him, and he had an air of such quiet self-confidence that you could only be impressed. He was skinny, and looked half-starved, but I thought he was cool. Especially the way he sucked his cheeks in when he pulled fiercely on his cigarette. He blew rings that hovered in the still air, and I wish now that I had never set eyes on him.

I spotted a public phone on the back wall, and asked the woman with the velvety voice for change so that I could make a call. I left the others gathered around the counter and headed for the phone. It was with an increased pulse rate that I pumped pennies into the slot and dialled. I didn’t press the A button until I heard her voice, having been ready to press B immediately and get my money back if her father answered.

‘Hi, it’s me.’ I wasn’t sure what kind of response I was going to get.

Jenny’s voice immediately dropped to conspiratorial. ‘Jack, where are you?’

‘Dunno for sure. Somewhere south of Beattock Summit.’

‘Your dad’s after you.’

‘What!’ The shock of her words made my face sting.

‘He’s with Maurie’s dad, in Maurie’s dad’s car. They left about half an hour ago to try and catch up with you.’

I had an absurd, fleeting vision of our two dads sitting in the dark in Maurie’s dad’s car with not a word to say to one another. Two more different people it would have been hard to imagine. The Jew and the atheist. To my knowledge they had never actually met. But I immediately refocused.

‘How did they find out? I mean, it’s not that late. They shouldn’t have found the notes yet.’

There was an ominous silence on the other end of the line.

‘Jenny?’

And she blurted it out. ‘It was me, Jack. I told them. Not long after you’d gone.’

‘Why, for God’s sake?’

‘Because it’s madness. You’ve no idea what you’re getting yourselves into. I thought maybe they could have stopped you.’

I swallowed a deep breath and raised my eyes to the nicotine-stained ceiling. ‘Jesus, Jenny! You shouldn’t have done that. Jesus!’ Thoughts were darting through my head like swallows on a summer’s evening, and I couldn’t keep track of any one of them.

‘Give it up, Jack. Come home.’

‘No!’ I almost shouted down the line at her. Then, more quietly, ‘Not sure I’m ever going to speak to you again, Jenny.’ And I hung up, breathing hard, pulse racing.

If the dads had left half an hour ago, they could only be about an hour behind us, if that. And given the speed of the van, it wouldn’t be long before they caught us. And what then? I conjured a horrible picture in my head of an argument at the roadside, and the humiliation of me and Maurie being dragged off by the ears to sit in the back seat of his dad’s car before being driven home in disgrace.

Luke and Dave and Maurie had carried their coffees to a table and were seated around it sipping their hot milky drinks and talking in low voices. I pulled up a chair and leaned into the table. They knew straight away from my demeanour that something was wrong.

‘Two of the dads are after us in a car.’

‘Christ! Whose dads?’ Dave said.

‘Mine and Maurie’s.’ I turned to Maurie. ‘They’re in your dad’s car.’

I have never seen anyone change colour so fast. Maurie’s normally florid complexion turned grey, then white.

‘How did they know we’d gone already?’

I suppose I must have blushed with guilt. ‘Jenny told them.’

Dave pushed himself back in his seat, breathing imprecations.

Luke, who’d been listening in silence, suddenly said, ‘What about my dad?’

I shrugged. ‘She didn’t say anything about him.’ And I saw in his face, just fleetingly, what I’ve always thought was disappointment. I said, ‘They’re only about an hour behind us.’

It was pure panic I saw in Maurie’s eyes. ‘What are we going to do?’

‘We’ve got to get off the A74,’ I said. ‘And stay off it. At least for tonight.’ I looked around, suddenly aware that Jeff wasn’t with us. ‘Where’s Jeff?’

Maurie nodded behind me towards the counter, and I thought I detected a hint of jealousy in his voice.

‘He’s talking to that bloke over there.’

I swivelled in my seat to see Jeff and the Elvis lookalike in animated conversation at the far end of the counter. Some joke passed between them and they both laughed.

I said, ‘We’ve got to get out of here now.’ I stood up and hurried across the café to catch Jeff by the arm. ‘Excuse me.’ I nodded apologetically to Elvis and drew Jeff away. In hushed tones I explained to him why we had to leave.

Jeff’s eyes opened wide. ‘Jobbies! And they’re actually on the road now?’

‘Yes.’

He glanced at his watch. ‘How did they know?’

I could tell this was going to cause me some grief in the hours to come. ‘Long story. But there’s no time to waste. We’re going to have to get off the main road.’

‘Excuse me.’ Elvis leaned into our conversation, and the most unexpectedly soft Irish brogue issued from smiling lips. ‘Couldn’t help overhearing. Jeff here was telling me what you fellas are up to.’

I glared at Jeff, but he was oblivious, and Elvis offered me his hand.

‘I’m Dennis, by the way.’

It was a warm, dry hand that gave mine a firm shake. But there was something about his smile that didn’t quite reach his amber eyes, and I felt an immediate distrust.

‘Sounds like you boys’ll have a bit of explaining to do if the old fellas catch up with you.’

The others had gathered behind me now, and Dennis smiled around the anxious faces.

‘How long behind you are they?’

‘About an hour,’ I said reluctantly.

‘Well, if you’re going off-piste you’ll need a plan.’

I had no idea what he was talking about, but I said, ‘We’ve got good maps.’

‘Excellent.’ Dennis nodded in smiling approval. ‘But a map’s not a plan. Tell you what. I’ve been hanging about here for a while now looking to catch a ride. Figured I wasn’t going to make it home tonight. But if you boys want to give me a lift, I can offer you a bed for the night. Or, at least, a floor.’ He grinned. ‘And your dads’ll never find you.’

‘Where?’ I could tell from Luke’s voice that he was as wary as I was.

‘I’m renting a wee farm worker’s cottage down in the Lake District. Me and the missus. She’s got a job in the local dairy, and I’ve just been up in Glasgow looking for work.’

He looked at his watch, and I saw that the tattoo on his left forearm was a snake curled around a dagger.

‘If we leave now we should reach Penrith before the old fellas catch you, then we’ll be off the main road and they’ll never find you in a million years.’

Jeff had no hesitation. ‘Brilliant, that’s what we’ll do.’

I glanced at Luke, who gave an imperceptible shrug of the shoulders. Dave and Maurie looked uncertain.

I said, ‘Maybe we should talk about this.’

Dennis lit another cigarette. ‘Be my guest.’

‘Just between us,’ I said, and I walked off to the table where we had been seated earlier. The others followed.

‘What’s the problem?’ Jeff jerked his thumb back towards Dennis. ‘That’s a really gen bloke. And we’re not going to get another offer like that tonight.’

‘I don’t like him,’ I said. ‘We can navigate ourselves “off-piste” for tonight.’

‘I’m with Jack,’ Luke said, and we looked at Dave and Maurie.

Their joint indecision was paralysing.

‘This is just rude,’ Jeff said. ‘We’re insulting the bloke now. And we don’t have time to argue about it. It’s my van. I say we go with him.’ He looked at each of us in turn, almost daring us to say no. And when no one came up with a better plan, he turned and waved to Dennis. ‘We’re on.’

Dennis smiled and lifted his bomber jacket. ‘Good call, boys. You’ll not regret it.’

But I had a bad feeling that we might.

_II

To my chagrin it was still my fate to sit up on the engine cowling. Maurie had moved into the back to share the settee with Luke and Dave, and had been replaced in the front by the cool Dennis who, as if to underscore his image, chain-smoked an American brand of menthol cigarettes called Kool.

There had been a strange, unspoken shift in the hierarchical structure of our little group. I had been the prime mover in the decision to run away, along with Luke, and up until then had been silently accepted, if not actually acknowledged, as the leader. But now I had been displaced by Dennis. He was three or four years older than us, and beside him we just seemed like the schoolkids we were. And Jeff, the only one of us not still at school, had become his lieutenant. I felt control of our situation slipping away from us, but was powerless to do anything about it.

The A74 took us on a tortuous tour of the southern uplands of Scotland before levelling off into the flood plains of the Solway Firth and the River Esk. I saw a signpost caught fleetingly in our headlights for a place called Metal Bridge, and shortly after that we saw a sign at the side of the road for
ENGLAND
, and I left Scotland for the first time in my life. Odd how straight away it felt different, as if I had passed into a foreign land. And those differences were immediately apparent in the change from stone-built to brick-built houses and farm buildings. I felt the chill of uncertainty creep over me. I was well out of my comfort zone now.

Carlisle was like a ghost town, alien and strange. Empty streets simmering in darkness beneath feeble street lamps. We stopped at an all-night filling station for petrol, and drove out of town on the A6.

The tension in the van was very nearly tangible. No one actually voiced the thought, but it seemed likely now that Maurie’s dad and mine could not be very far behind. I could see Jeff constantly checking his side mirrors and tensing every time we were overtaken.