Smoko At East Seaham Read online

Page 3

CHAPTER 3

  SELF DEFENCE

  Bella and Jack, an elderly couple in their mid-seventies, loved to get out for ‘a bit of a stroll’ as Jack liked to call it, every day if they could. Fortunately for them, the shops and other local amenities were no more than a kilometre or so away from their little cottage, part of a small terrace in the older part of their suburb.

  It was a bit late in the day today for their stroll because Bella had not felt her best this morning. But Jack had fussed over her and by late afternoon he was confident she was up to it. ‘It will do you good, love,’ he said. ‘What say we pick up something from the chippie? Then you can put your feet up and not have to cook anything, eh?’

  ‘Oh, alright,’ she agreed; and although it wasn’t such a nice day and it was likely to get dark earlier than usual, off they went.

  They hadn’t been walking for more than a few minutes when she exclaimed, ‘Oh, no!’

  ‘What?’ Jack queried.

  ‘Looks like them there rough kids – you know? They are out on the street already.’

  ‘They aren’t kids, well not strictly speaking. They won’t be interested in us old wrinklies,’ Jack assured her.

  ‘Now don’t you worry about them. Anyways, we have as much right to walk the streets as they have - day and night, all night if we want!’ Cautiously they walked on, quickening their steps just a little so as to get past the rough looking lads as quickly as possible. But as they drew level one of the gang, the big one of the three - wearing a black studded-jacket, plus even more studs in his ears and his nose; stepped out in front of them.

  ‘Hullo, darlin’, he said with a cheeky grin. ‘Wot yer got in yer handbag then, eh? Let’s ‘ave a look.’ He reached out for her handbag.

  Instinctively, without saying anything, Bella drew her bag in closer to her chest and Jack put his arm around her; then together they stepped off the pavement hoping to get past the lads without further trouble.

  ‘Now, now, don’t go being unfriendly like that,’ the big lad said, nodding to his companions to move out on to the road with him, which they quickly did - completely blocking the passage of Bella and Jack. ‘There’s no harm in looking, is there?’

  ‘Now then, now then,’ said Jack. Leave the lady alone, lads. You’re too big, too big to go around frightening old ladies. It’d spoil your image, right? Now let us pass.’

  ‘Oh, giving out orders now, are we grandad?’ the big lad teased. ‘What yer goin’ ter do if we don’t let you’s pass – give us a hidin’, will ya?’

  The three of them pulled faces and danced around with their hands up in mock fear.

  ‘Come on lads,’ said Jack. ‘We’re just off to the Chippie. Why don’t you let us pass – eh? We don’t want any trouble.’

  ‘Trouble?’ asked the big lad. ‘Are you threatening us then, old man?’ The others giggled. ‘Now listen, you old wrinklies, that bag is my bag. You get it? Now you tell the old lady ter ‘and it over, quick like, before I get angry wiv you both – right!’

  ‘It’s not yours, it’s hers. Now I won’t tell you again, mate. You leave her alone.’

  The big lad moved closer to Bella and grabbed the strap to her bag. ‘Now listen, lady. Take no notice of that old fart. If I say it’s my bag it’s mine – simple as that. Got that? Now ‘and it over.’

  Shivering with fear, Bella tried to back away and in so doing caught her foot on the edge of the pavement and fell to the ground, pulling the big lad down on to his knees as they continued to wrestle for possession of the bag.

  The big lad looked up at Jack and snarled, ‘Back off, mate! Or I’ll kill ‘er first and you next!’

  What happened next was as swift and unexpected as one can possibly imagine. As the big lad turned his back to Bella, still valiantly clutching her bag, Jack who was in mortal fear the big lad would seriously hurt her, stepped in close up behind him. Then, quickly extending both his hands out, palms up - brought them in sharply in a severe chopping movement, striking him just under both ears with an almighty thwack! The other lads who had been supporting their leader with resounding chants of ‘Get it! Get it! Get it!’ were stunned into absolute silence as the big lad slowly toppled over and lay face up and unmoving on the cold pavement.

  Then the lad nearest to Jack quickly flung his arms around him, yelling to his mate to come over and ‘Punch ‘im! Kick ‘im! Kill ‘im!’

  Instead of pulling away Jack backed into the lad as close as possible then lifting one foot as high as he could, he brought it down onto his assailants instep! There was an immediate, sickening sound of broken bones, followed by a long wailing scream of intense pain.

  The third lad stopped moving in for a moment and watched in amazement as the injured lad lashed out at Jack with a savage blow aimed at his stomach; but Jack parried the blow, pulled the arm up and around the lad’s back – and rammed him face down into the concrete where he lay unmoving.

  ‘Now you’re mine, mine, old man. I’m gonna kill you for that!’ As he moved in Jack retreated until his back was up against the wall. The lad closed in. There was no escape. As he lunged to strike him, Jack grabbed his arm, not to resist him but to pull and increase the boy’s momentum and twisting sideways, Jack smashed the boy’s face into the brick wall with a sickening thud! He watched with relief and satisfaction as the boy’s body slowly slid down the wall to fall in a lifeless heap on the floor.

  Breathing heavily and aching all over, Jack finally had a chance to limp over to Bella, quietly sobbing as she sat on the edge of the pavement. Jack sat down beside her and said, ‘How are you, my old duck?’ She didn’t answer but turned to bury her face on his chest. Jack couldn’t help but notice how badly her knees where bruised and bleeding. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his mobile phone. He’d bought it a few years ago, just for emergencies. Though he carried it everywhere, up until now it had never been used. I guess this is it, he thought. He selected the Emergency number.

  ‘Name?’

  ‘Er… Jack Jones.’

  ‘Address?’

  ‘15 Watkins Street.’

  ‘Police, Fire or Ambulance?’

  ‘Police and Ambulance please. Er… that’s 1 Police car and… and 3 Ambulances, please.’

  ‘3 Ambulances?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘Why 3?’

  ‘Oh, er… 1 for me and my wife. We’re the victims of assault you see. Waterloo Road. Outside Number 186. And 2 for the three assailants. I’m thinking two could ride in one and one in the other.’

  ‘You mean the assailants are still there?’

  ‘Oh, yes. They are still here alright.’

  ‘Why haven’t they gone – run off or something.’

  ‘They are sort of, not feeling up to running at the moment.’

  ‘Who did that then?’

  ‘I’m afraid I did.’

  ‘Excuse me, but you don’t sound like a young man?’

  ‘Oh, no. Me and the Missus are both in our mid-seventies.’

  ‘What are their injuries please?’

  ‘I don’t wish to be rude, but what about our injuries – me and the Missus?’

  ‘Your wife, she’s not unconscious, is she?’

  ‘No. No. Bruised, cut and in shock, but not unconscious.’

  ‘What are the injuries of those who are unconscious, please?’

  ‘I sort’a chopped one just under the ears – and he went out like a light!’

  ‘I can imagine!’

  ‘I stomped on the foot of the second one, breaking the bones, I think. Then his face hit the pavement.’

  ‘The third one?’

  ‘He somehow walked into a wall.’

  ‘You sort of helped him do that, did you?’

  ‘Well, yes. Yes, I did.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘May I ask if the Ambulances are on their way?’

  ‘Oh, yes and the Police too. I think the Police should be th
ere first, any second now.’

  ‘Oh, good. I think I can hear them coming.’

  ‘Well, keep talking to me until they actually arrive, ok?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, of course.’

  ‘You got any injuries, have you?’

  ‘Not at the moment. I’m a bit winded and incredibly tired. I ache all over. It’s tomorrow I’m worried about.’

  ‘Why tomorrow?’

  ‘I’ve got one of those backs that when over-taxed one day, plays up the next. I’m sure I won’t be able to walk for a week or more. That’s what usually happens if I lift too much. After this, well...’

  ‘I can hear talking. Is that the Police?’

  ‘Yes. One is taking a look at my wife. The other is looking at the other lot.’

  ‘Good. Well I’ll say goodbye now. And Mr Jones...’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘A friendly piece of advice. Don’t make a habit of it! We do have limited resources you know.’

  ‘No, no. I won’t, I promise. Goodbye!’

  ‘Now then,’ said the senior Police Officer. ‘You are Mr Jack Jones and this,’ he waved a hand in the general direction of the fallen, ‘is all your handy work, is that right?’

  ‘Yes. You could say that.’

  ‘You obviously felt threatened by these boys in some way, right?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How where you threatened?’

  ‘Well each of them in turn threatened to kill us.’

  ‘Hmm, it looks like they didn’t know what they were up against. Tell me, how come you were able to lay them all out like that? Are you an ex-military man, perhaps?’

  ‘Oh, no.’

  ‘Well, you are going to have to explain it to someone. You’d better come up with a good excuse. It had better be a real good one.’

  ‘Are they, all alive?’

  ‘Oh, yes. The Ambo’s say they’ll live – just! Now I suggest you get the Ambo’s to check you over, then get in my car and sit quietly while I have a quick chat with your dear wife. Ok?’

  ‘Oh,’ cried Bella, as she struggled to her feet with the aid of one of the Ambo’s. ‘I think maybe it’s my fault, all my fault Officer.’

  ‘Really, ma’am? How would that be?’

  ‘It was his birthday last year and I bought him one of those nice new LCD telly’s. Then we got ourselves connected to cable TV. Since then, he watches nothing but endless re-runs of Bruce Willis and that dreadful Rambo creature and that sort of thing.’

  ‘I suggest you keep that information to yourself, Madam. Believe me, in this day and age, it wouldn’t help your husband at all.’

  ‘Oh, right.’

  ‘Please keep it to yourself, but my Report will stress the fact these lads all smell strongly, very strongly, of alcohol. Consequently they were hardly able to stand in the first place. In becoming over aggressive they largely injured themselves.’

  ‘Oh, thank you.’

  ‘Just make sure your husband says nothing more than he raised his arms to protect himself, which blocked his view of what actually happened. If he sticks to that, I doubt if anybody would want to dig any deeper, ok?’

  ‘Thank you, Officer.’

  ‘Before I go, just one other thing. May I suggest that from now on, you alone take over full responsibility for the TV remote control? Ok?’