The Tale of the Wolf (The Kenino Wolf Series) (29 page)

‘
It would appear they now want Mrs Milkie's son … who would appear to be called Tom Jones.’ I stared at Tabatha.

‘
His name's not Tom Jones. It is Kevin Joseph Milkie. He was born Kevin Milkie and he will die Kevin Milkie. Tom Jones indeed! What kind of name is Tom Jones anyway? Kevin Milkie was good enough for his father and it should be good enough for him. He can pretend all he wants. Tom Jones, Tommy Thumb, whatever silly thing he wants. He is Kevin Joseph Milkie.’

‘
But he calls himself Tom Jones?’ I asked.

‘
Yes, but I never will. How you can ask a mother to call her son a name different from the one she gave him?’

‘
Indeed,’ I replied. A light had flickered on inside my head. It had sparked in Tabatha’s and Curtis’ too.

‘
Have you ever heard of the Tomsians, Mrs Milkie?’ I said gently.

‘
That's the name of his band,’ she replied smiling.

‘
The other church!’ Tabatha said, staring straight at me.

‘
The other church,’ I returned, staring back at her. ‘Do you have his address, Mrs Milkie?’ I continued.

‘
Oh yes, he lives near Machynlleth in Wales, by the mountains. That’s where his pop group is based. Hmmph! Pop group! He can call it any name he likes, but as far as I’m concerned it’s a bad crowd. I’ve told him many a time. Kevin, I’ve said, what kind of people would make you change your own name, make you deny your own mother? But does he listen? No. He thinks he knows it all. And now look … this crowd of his has got his father kidnapped by communists.’

‘
Don’t worry, Mrs Milkie. We’ll get Mr Milkie back,’ Muzzi said comfortingly. ‘Wolfy’s a very resourceful man. He’ll help us.’ Muzzi had both volunteered me and complimented me. I didn’t know whether to slap him or thank him. Both crossed my mind.

‘
Do you have his full address, Mrs Milkie?’ I asked.

‘
Yes. You’re not going to give it to the Communists are you, because they can’t have it? Mr Milkie understands about sacrificing his life for his country, but we cannot help the Reds. They want to destroy our way of life. If he was here now he’d tell you the same. Better to be dead than under the heel of Lenin and his Bolshis.’

‘
No, Mrs Milkie, we won’t give it to the Communists, I promise.’ Being half-cut made talking to Mrs Milkie somehow sensible.

She pulled out a piece of paper from her carpet bag and handed it to me.

‘
Thanks for that. Do you have a picture of your son?’

She reached into her giant carpet bag and pulled out a one-foot square, framed picture.

‘
Here.’

It was a black and white photo of a baby maybe a year old lying on a sheepskin rug, with all his glory on full display.

‘
Anything a bit more recent, Mrs Milkie?’

‘
I think I have one from when he was seven. It’s a very nice picture. He’s wearing a very natty pair of blue dungarees.’

‘
I think this one will do. Okay now, don’t you worry. We’ll get this sorted tomorrow for you. Probably best if you get some sleep now.’

‘
Come on, Mrs Milkie, I’ll walk you home.’ Muzzi said.

Once they were outside I turned to Tabatha and said, ‘Well, that’s interesting.’

‘
Very. So what are we going to do?’

‘
We’ve got two choices. We can go and save the cat and then go to Wales to see Tom Jones. Or we can get drunk and wait for Magenta Devine’s people to find us.’

‘
Cat and Wales it is then!’

‘
Curt?’

‘
Cat and Wales.’ He shrugged.

Muzzi walked back in and said. ‘Thank you, Wolfy. I owe you. I know she’s a little odd, but she’s very kind and she’s all alone with no one to help her. And I’ve known her since I was small and ...’

‘
Stop, Muzzi. You’ll make me change my mind.’

‘
Yes sorry. What are you going to do?’

‘
Have a kip and work it out in the morning. Any chance I can borrow one of your spare rooms.’

‘
Of course, Wolfy.’

‘
Cheers. G’night.’

Friday 10:30 a.m.

It was a strangely enjoyable sleep. Muzzi had one of those mattresses that moulds round your body, like sleeping in jelly. I didn’t really have a plan for how to retrieve the cat. If I’m honest, I wasn’t overly sure I was going to bother. I had the address for Kevin Milkie, and was considering just driving to Wales, grabbing him by the neck and shaking the remaining answers out of him. Muzzi, alas, was holding me to my cat rescue agreement. I entered the kitchen to find him dressed in camouflage gear and army boots. All he was missing was the black boot polish under his eyes.

‘
What’s with the get-up?’ I said pouring out some coffee.

‘
I thought it best to dress correctly.’

‘
For what? Vietnam? Muzzi, you’re dressed for jungle warfare. We’re going to Kensington. There’s no jungles in Kensington.’

‘
Shall I get changed?’

‘
Nah. What the hell. Leave it.’

‘
Where’s Muzzi going?’ Tabatha asked, coming into the kitchen.’

‘
With us.’

‘
Why’s he dressed like that?’

‘
He’s gonna outflank the Russians through Kensington Jungle.’

‘
Is it?’

‘
Yeah. He’s gonna hide in the bushes and then leap out like Rambo. He was just about to put his war paint on … bit of black under the eyes.’

‘
Morning everybody.’ Curtis strolled in, rubbing his eyes. ‘Muzzi, why you dressed like that?’

‘
I made a mistake, Curtis, okay? A small mistake and I’ll thank you not to mention it again.’ With that he stormed out of the kitchen.

‘
What did I say?’ Curtis uttered confused.

‘
I dunno mate, you just offended him somehow.’

‘
But I didn’t say anything.’

‘
I dunno, mate. Something about the Viet Cong. I dunno … I weren’t really paying attention. I was just drinking my coffee.’ I feigned innocence.

‘
So what’s the plan?’ Curtis asked.

‘
I thought we’d stake out the house. The Russians are expecting a granny so I doubt they’ll be barricaded in there. I was thinking, maybe shoot them with the tranq gun, grab the cat and run away. But if anyone has a better plan please volunteer it.’

‘
It’s a bit short on details.’

‘
It’s not a very big cat.’

‘
You know what I mean.’

‘
What? I ain’t Monty and we ain’t taking North Africa, no matter what Muzzi thinks. It’s a cat and a few Russians. We got three tranq guns. I’ll have one, you have one and Tabs can have one. I’ll go in the front and you two can sneak round the back. And what you worrying for? Action Man’s upstairs. He’s got the jungle covered.’ I said, indicating Muzzi, who still hadn’t reappeared.

‘
How the hell did I end up in this craziness?’
Curtis mumbled, staring at the sky.

‘
That’s what happens when you make doilies. It starts with doilies, then it’s knitting, then it’s cats and Russians. Soft craft … just don’t start … just say no.’

‘
You can fuck off, you piss-taking bastard.’

‘
Don’t be like that. I was hoping for a nice scarf for Christmas.’

‘
Only if I can choke you with it.’

‘
Ouch, Curtis. Where’s your Christmas spirit?’

‘
It ain’t Christmas. It’s July.’

‘
Now that’s no way to be. You should have Christmas in your heart all year round; the spirit of giving.’

‘
I’ll give you something in a minute.’

‘
Sorry, Curt, I’m going to have to decline, I’m happily entangled, although you do have very nice hair,’ I said in my best camp accent.

‘
Fuck off, Wolfy! Can we just get going?’

‘
Oh alright, spoilsport. Call GI Joe. Tell him we’re leaving.’

Curtis was just about to call out ‘GI Joe’ when, remembering Muzzi’s reaction, he restrained himself and instead went with, ‘Muzzi, we’re leaving.’

‘
Coward,’ I said, clocking his reticence.

Muzzi came down the stairs, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.

‘
Muzzi, you got changed. What you get changed for? Was it something Curtis said?’

‘
I’m not talking about it. Can we just leave?’

We jumped into Betsy and Tabatha started the engine, she started first time as always. It wasn’t as rewarding a feeling being in the passenger seat as it was when I drove her.

I sniffed the air and in my best Robert Duval said. ‘I love the smell of cat piss in the morning.’

‘
Right look I got a little carried away. I admit I may have been a little overexuberant in my clothing, but can we please just drop it.’

‘
Yes, Muzzi, sorry. I couldn’t help it.’

‘
I don’t think you’re taking this very seriously. These are dangerous people. They have guns.’

‘
Who doesn’t?’ Curtis piped in, expressing the attitude that the three of us had. We were so deep in a hole that ‘fuck it’ was all we had left.

‘
Yes, well. That’s as may be, but it’s not something I’m overly comfortable about.’

‘
Sorry, Muzzi. Come on, Tabs. Let’s go.’

We headed off to Warwick Road. It was only a little drive away from Muzzi’s house, didn’t take more than ten minutes to get there. Well, Tabatha
was
driving. It was just after ten. We parked up nearby across the road from number 27 and started our stake out.

After about half an hour during which there was much ribbing of Muzzi, stuff about hiding in bushes, and how he was to go up the river in a little boat and find Colonel Kurtz, Curtis noticed something.

‘
Is that Leon’s van?’ It was; Leon’s battered old black-market butchery van, it was parking up a little bit in front of us.

‘
What’s that doing here?’

‘
Boom-Boom phoned and I told him where we were going,’ Muzzi announced innocently.

‘
What did you do that for?’

‘
I didn’t know I wasn’t meant to.’

‘
Is that Boom?’ Tabatha had noticed her brother.

‘
Shit! He’s gonna fuck everything up,’ I said jumping out.

The Russians had only ever seen us in fancy dress so the likelihood was that they wouldn’t recognise us, but Boom-Boom, being rather uniquely proportioned, was unforgettable. If they looked out and saw him, I doubted they’d come out with tea and biccies.

Tabatha jumped out behind me. ‘I better come with you. He’s probably come to kill you.’

‘
You know you’re a high maintenance woman.’

‘
I know. That’s why you love me.’ She was right. Boom-Boom was definitely not on a social visit.

He took one look at me walking over with Tabatha and the blood rushed straight to his head. In the old days I would’ve probably been panicking, but as I was thoroughly immersed in the ‘fuck it’ mentality, what could he do? He steamed towards us.