Ivory (17 page)

The bushes of
the garden trembled and a clumsy and noisy clambering from the back
of the van signalled that their attackers were stirring. Martin
panicked and beckoned for Ivory to follow. She looked unconcerned
at first, but then she appeared to recognise that Martin had his
car waiting and decided to follow. Richard matched her pace and
kept beside her the way he had seen bodyguards do on TV. Ivory
accepted the door Martin opened for the back seat, but he left her
to shut it behind her as he scrambled back into the driver’s seat
to make their getaway. Martin turned the key and the car coughed
into life while the man clambered over the garden wall and was
joined by the staggering fat man. Martin waggled the gear stick
into reverse, turned in his seat so he could see out the rear
window and pumped the accelerator. The Focus responded, whining
backwards down the road as the two attackers ran to the front of
the van. Martin yanked the wheel of his car around as they emerged
from Arven, shifted gear and sped into the night, knowing that the
van would be in pursuit.

Chapter
Fourteen

The rain
drummed against the roof, the traction of the tyres on the
waterlogged roads hushed, thrashed puddles hissed, and the
windscreen wipers whispered and squealed, whispered and squealed
back and forth. Neither Martin or Richard had spoken since their
escape with Ivory. They sat in the gloom of the orange and white
streetlights that passed overhead and were continually vigilant for
any pursuers. The quiet and the dark was a comforting temporal
sanctuary where Martin could avoid talking about the plans they
didn’t have. His body still protested against the stress of their
escape with an uncomfortable heat and urgency in his bowels and a
sickly sweat on his body. He was content to put as much distance
between them and Ivory’s attackers, even if it meant criss-crossing
the city from one outskirt to another.

He gripped the
wheel tightly, giving him a firm control over the car should he
need to make a sudden diversion and loose anyone suspicious in his
rear-view mirror. His eyes flicked from the road to the mirror as a
peak in the sound of traffic caught his attention. A car had pulled
sharply out of a road about five cars back. He squinted against the
scintillant headlights in the glass, desperate to make out the
detail of the large boxy vehicle, his stomach fluttered. It was a
dark Cortina mark V not the Nissan Bluebird. He realised how
hunched he had become and relaxed back into his seat.

He was
relieved Richard had been with him back at Arven as his strength
and courage to fight had driven Martin into action. Conflict was
not something that had ever been part of his life and was not in
his nature. Martin knew the limitations of his physique and
temperament, although when he had seen Ivory in trouble he had an
unsettling sense that he would have done anything to protect
her.

Ivory sat in
the middle of the back seat, her dark eyes ploughing the road ahead
with a fixed stare. Richard had withdrawn into thoughts he was
keeping to himself and sat with his head rested against the
passenger window. Martin chanced another look at Ivory in the
mirror and was startled to catch her all consuming eyes staring
back at him.

He focussed on
the road then back to Ivory in the mirror. “Are you okay?”

She snapped
out a nod. She seemed to decide the gesture needed warming, maybe
because of the risk Martin and Richard had taken in rescuing her,
and gave her smudge of a smile. It held such innocence despite the
life of vice and danger that she led.

Headlights
burned a path through the car and blazed out of the rear-view
mirror. He squinted against the stinging phantom of the light from
his eyes and glanced at his side mirror. A dark transit van had cut
into their road right behind them and drew in close to their rear.
The brute of a vehicle pulled out into the other line of traffic as
soon as it got the opportunity and sped up to level with them.
Martin checked his speed. He was doing the speed limit for this
area. The van’s cab was level with his door but he couldn’t see
into the gloom beyond the window. Martin lifted his foot gingerly
off of the accelerator and the van pulled across them. The vehicle
was dark dirty and battered but there were no shopping bags at the
door’s windows. It wasn’t their attackers. He sighed. He had to
relax. They had been driving around the area for forty-minutes now
and he had taken enough twists and turns to ensure their
safety.

Richard seemed
to read his thoughts; “What now?”

Martin glanced
at Richard and then back at the road, he shifted his grip on the
wheel uncomfortably. “Got any ideas?”

“
Take her home?”

There was a
strange look in Richard’s face, a hesitant expression looking to
test Martin’s response. Martin looked to Ivory who had leant
forward in her seat at the suggestion. “You want to go home?” Ivory
answered him with a nod. “Then we take her home.” Martin flicked
his indicators and steered the vehicle into a turning that would
take them in the direction of Islington. Richard rested his head
back against the window and his curious look had gone.

Martin and
Richard discussed the possibility of there being a trap as a
welcoming. They decided that Martin would pull the car into a space
at the top of Ivory’s road and keep the engine idling while Richard
got out and checked further down the road near Ivory’s home for
anything or anyone suspicious.

Richard stared
cautiously about him and crossed to the pavement opposite Ivory’s
side of the street and stalked off in the direction of her house.
He kept close to the walls and casually looked about the gloomy
street. The lighting was adequate but the lines of parked cars on
each side of the road, and the privets and box bushes in the
majority of the gardens obscured the pavement with thick murky
shadows. Recognising the rambling bushes that topped the wall of
Ivory’s house he stepped into the concealing fall of shadow beneath
the dense branches of an ornamental cherry tree and studied the
rows of cars nearby.

The transit
obviously wasn’t parked and waiting, but the Nissan would be harder
to spot from a distance, especially with the spotted light and
shadow. There weren’t any visible lights on in Ivory’s house. He
couldn’t help but wonder what it looked like inside. Despite the
worrying obsession he had had with Ivory he had never had the
courage to call at her door as such an action would have committed
him in a direction that frightened him.

Richard’s
jacket and tee shirt suddenly tightened around him and he was
yanked backwards and then pitched forward with force. He stumbled
over his own feet and fell. He glimpsed the large box bush that
spilled over the wall of a garden in front of him, and he clutched
his eyes closed as he tumbled face first into the dense mass of
sharply pointed twigs. The bush stabbed and clawed at the bare skin
of his face and neck, and mauled his hands as they paddled the bush
for something solid to steady himself against.

He was kicked
in the back of the knee and his legs buckled under him. The
scratching foliage hissed and crackled noisily around him as his
weight pushed his head and shoulders further into the bush. His
hands found the gritty paving slabs and he quickly backed out of
the bush on his hands and knees, the knee that had been struck felt
heavy and throbbed sickeningly, but his face and hands burnt with a
fiery pain that overwhelmed his aching knee. He emerged from the
bush but before he could get his bearings he glimpsed a boot swung
in his direction. The kick made contact with his stomach and sent
him crashing onto his side and left him winded.

The mouth and
chin of the man that attacked him was a messy smudge of dried blood
run with fresh tracks. It was the lanky man that had grabbed Ivory.
The boot returned to Richard’s prone torso with an impact that sent
him scuffing several inches across the pavement. He rolled onto his
back, his abdomen painfully bruised, his breaths catching in his
chest. Before he could recover, Richard’s head ricocheted off the
pavement and his world went black as pain exploded across his face
from a jab from the man’s fist. He clutched his face and balled
himself up on his side waiting for the next hit.

It didn’t
come.

He blinked
through the tears that welled in his eyes and squinted through his
fingers. The man was standing over him with a mobile phone held to
his ear. He snapped something in a tongue Richard didn’t understand
and ended the call. Undoubtedly calling for the thug in the van.
The man dropped to his haunches over Richard.

“
Where is the bitch that did this to my face?”

Richard
struggled to orientate himself, unsure if his body would support
him in escaping, let alone hitting back. Richard decided to test
it. The man fell backwards clutching his face in a howl of agony.
Well, his arm worked. It hadn’t been capable of a punch, but a
drunken slap against the man’s pulverised nose had been all that
was needed. Richard scrambled along the ground, dropping to his
knees with each attempt at placing a foot on the ground to support
himself. His aching leg was pulled away from him and he found
himself sprawled on his front with the man clinging onto his ankle
from his own prone position. Richard kicked awkwardly at the man’s
head with his other foot, surprisingly it made contact and Richard
threw more vigour into his efforts and delivered a rain of kicks
until the grip loosened and he was able to break free.

He hobbled
down the road, cursing having arranged for Martin to park so far
down the street, not daring to falter his pace and look back to see
if the man had recovered his pursuit. Richard started at hearing
his name called out and looked to the source. Martin had left the
parking space and driven down to Richard. With a wash of relief he
hastened over to the purring car that trembled, as if held back on
a leash, and slipped through the door that was open and waiting for
him. He barely had time to shut it behind him before the car
accelerated to escape.

Martin spared
a slumped and battered looking Richard a glance to make sure he was
settled then returned his attention to the road and a determined
escape. He had seen the dark hulking van draw into the street and
knew they couldn’t leave Ivory there. The van would now undoubtedly
be picking up the lanky thug before giving chase, giving them
precious seconds to gain a lead in their escape.

Martin kept
driving, his heart in his throat and his arms and legs tense at the
wheel and pedals, the transit van haunted his rear-view mirror. He
kept to the busier main roads, they didn’t allow for speed but they
had late opening shops and he hoped that the presence of other
traffic and people would deter the men from making a move. After an
hour of this the transit van pulled away seemingly losing
interest.

“
Now what?” Martin asked.

“
I guess we have to take her somewhere else.” The strange
expectation had returned to Richard’s face, as if he considered
Martin’s question rhetorical. “Yours?” There was a challenging edge
to his voice.

“
Or yours.” Martin countered with his own
challenge.

“
No.” Richard snapped in quick reaction. His tone softened as
he continued. “Will Jenny mind?”

“
Okay. Mine it is then.” Martin stated, then shifted his
attention to Ivory. “Are you okay with that? It might be too
dangerous to return you home, they could be waiting again. Maybe
take you home tomorrow when it is light?” Ivory nodded. Richard
asked to be taken home to his flat with an expression of distaste
that Martin puzzled at.

Checking they
hadn’t been followed they pulled up on Kingsland Road and Martin
helped the limping Richard to his door next to the café they had
sat and chatted in. Martin followed Richard’s glance up to the
illuminated window in his flat.

“
You have someone at home?”

“
Shaun. The blonde you caught me with.” Richard didn’t seem
very happy about him.

“
That’s good. He can give you a hand cleaning those wounds up.
I would imagine you will be glad of the company
tonight.”

Richard
nodded, but there was doubt on his face, and he was seemingly
staring off into nothingness. Martin followed his gaze and found
that he was actually staring at Ivory.

“
Are you going to be okay?”

Richard waved
away any concern. “I will be fine.”

Martin was
sure that in a couple of days he would be healing nicely, many of
his wounds were superficial scratches and grazes, he was more
concerned what affect his latest involvement with Ivory had had on
him.

Richard broke
away from staring at Ivory and fumbled with his keys, then
hesitated and before Martin could leave he caught his arm. “You
didn’t answer my question back in the car.” Richard stated with a
firm tone. “Will Jenny mind?”

Martin knew he
could lie but he decided that honesty that appeared innocent would
settle more comfortably between them. Better to appear naïve than
show an understanding of where Richard was trying to lead him.
“Jenny left me today.”

Richard
visibly deflated and stared at Martin for some time, obviously
concerned and trying to read his face for answers. “Martin… What
are you doing?”

“
What do you mean?”

“
You know what I mean. Why are you allowing yourself to be
drawn into her life?”

“
You called me!” Martin echoed Richard’s despair.

“
I know I did,” he conceded softly. “But I didn’t realise you
had allowed her to come between you and your family.”