Paint. The art of scam. (41 page)

Sang Tommy James,
the lead singer, founder and songwriter of The Lonesome Cowboys. The rest of
the band clunked out a typical country and western tune: playing vaguely at the
same tempo and similar tuning.

My horse has just
run away with Mary from the bar,

I guess I'll have
to buy myself a car.’

Tommy thought he was
great and looked the part; he wore the full cowboy kit, gold tassels, spurs and
all. The rest of the band couldn't care less and just wore cowboy hats as a
gesture. They would put up with Tommy and his ego for as long as the beer kept
flowing their way. Tommy would never take money for performing. He said that, ‘To
see folks havin' a good time is payment enough. You can't buy that with money.’
He was right. But then, nobody would pay them anyway: because they were shit. Nobody
had the heart to tell Tommy that.

The Lonesome
Cowboys would perform at every opportunity. You could barely have a dinner
party without Tommy offering to play for free and for any gathering over 10 people:
he didn't even bother to offer to play, he just turned up. This gave Tommy the
illusion that The Lonesome Cowboys were really popular. Tommy was pissed off
with Cyril, because he’d refused to allow him to bring his generator, an ex
army diesel 10kva machine, that powered Tommy's huge sound system. The sound
system had to be turned up so loud, to overwhelm the sound of the generator,
that The Lonesome Cowboys could be heard in space. The Lonesome Cowboys had to
go acoustic, no miked up drums, no big fat bass guitar amp and no Gibson guitar
and vocal amps with all the sound scrunching pedal effects that Tommy had built
himself. Cyril had pacified Tommy by saying that the band sounded so much
better unplugged, back to their roots, raw and natural. Tommy agreed, but
sneaked in his Fender 12 volt practice amp, just to prove a point.

‘Oh I'm hoping
things get better, really soon.

I'm sick of
people popping my balloon......’

Cyril chinked
glasses with Nastasia.

‘Happy Birthday
darlin'‘ said Cyril pecking her on the lips.

‘Thanks Cyril and
good luck.’ Nastasia pecked Cyril back.

‘Good luck?’

‘With your new
adventure Cyril, see you've got the wheels back on the truck.’

‘Oh, you've
heard. Yeh, MOT test, the day after tomorrow, I hope she passes or I'll be buggered.’

‘Can't keep any
secrets around here Cyril.’

‘Yeh I know, I'm
going to miss that. Still, no point in dwelling on it, me minds made up. I'll
be glad to get away from all this tension. Edward won, or more to the point I'm
sick of fighting.’

Nastasia nodded
and kissed him again. ‘We'll see.’ said Nastasia mischievously.

‘What do you
mean? We'll see.’

‘Just, we'll see.’

‘Oh, by the way
Natty, I'm going to need that cash back in the next few days, the truck's going
to cost near enough £1500, then I'll need some more to get me down to Spain or
wherever.’

‘Yeh I know, Tim
told me, I got it here with me.’

‘What all of it?’

‘Some of it.’ Nastasia
smirked, as she spotted someone across the crowd and waved at them. ‘I'm going
to circulate for a while, I haven't seen all these people together in one place
for years, see you later.’

‘Probably be the
last time, so make the most of it.’ said Cyril.

Nastasia winked
at him and wandered off, leaving Cyril puzzled by Nastasia's bright mood. He
looked around at the growing crowd that had turned up.

‘Hi Cyril,’ said
Chris approaching with a full pint of cloudy scrumpy.

‘Hi Chris. Well
if you want Laurel and Hardy, they're over there under the apple trees.’

‘Fuck off, that
were the last straw when that bastard told me to get rid of them. Me and John
quit the estate coupla days ago. I'll tell you Cyril that asshole's heading for
good hiding.’

‘What did he say
when you quit?’

‘Edward? He said
he was getting rid of us anyway, reckons we were too slow. I'll tell you what,
I've never seen John so angry in all my life, he really let rip at Edward.
Called him a fucking Nazi and all sorts. I had to hold him back, I really
thought he were gonna take a swing at him.’

‘Yeh well I
reckon this lot feel the same way.’ said Cyril. ‘Natty said Edward's gone away
somewhere, any idea how long for?’

‘Dunno, he's
usually gone for a week or so. Yeh and I heard about your access road problem,
can you believe it? Mrs. Dankworth said you was going away in your van
somewhere. We'll miss you Cyril.’

‘Thanks mate. Yeh,
I've got get the van out before Monday, that's when he's closing the road.’

‘Oh I know, he
asked me and John to block it off, that were the second from last final straw.
I tell you, he's gonna have a hard job finding people to work for him from
around here.’

‘He'll just bring
in a whole new team from that consortium he's part of. They won't give a shit
about anything.’ Cyril pulled out his tobacco pouch to roll a cigarette, as he
tapped his foot to the The Lonesome Cowboys.

‘Well no one
wants to fall in love with me,

I'm like a tree
without a forest, can't you see.

I'm always
feeling lonely, 'cause I ain't got a one and only.

'Cause no one
wants to fall in love with me.’ Sang Tommy, looking daggers at Phil Treadmear
on double bass. Phil looked at Jim Robinson on the drums as they played. They
both looked at Tommy and shrugged their shoulders. Tommy went over to Phil, who
nodded his head and whispered in Jim's ear that they were playing the wrong
song. Phil and Jim laughed. Tommy didn't.

‘Oh I try so hard
to make the girls look at me.

But I guess
they're blind or find better things to see.

Chris took
another large gulp of his scrumpy and wiped his lips with back of his hand.

‘Hi Cyril, Chris.
Great party hey! The boys are firing.’ said Sally, as she danced her way up to
Cyril and Chris, precariously holding a huge glass of white wine, clearly not
her first, hugged them both with her available arm and planted a soggy lipstick
kiss on each of their cheeks.

‘Yeh, you can
always count on the Cowboys to brighten things up.’ laughed Cyril as he juggled
with his half rolled cigarette and glass to chink it with Sally's.

‘Yeh, probably be
the last time we’ll see The Lonesome Cowboys. Time was I'd pray for that day.’
said Chris to his drink, before he took another swig.

‘Oh come on boys,
cheer up will ya? Something'll come up.’ said Sally, tottering on her feet to
keep her balance, using her attempt to dance to disguise it. ‘You gotta be
positive! If we all put our positive energy into this thing, we can do it. It's
amazing what humans can achieve when we are at one with each other! I was
thinking of having a healing circle around the fire later.’

Chris and Cyril
looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

Sally was a
lovely woman. Born on the estate and never knew anything else. As a result of
her isolation from the real world she was a positive thinker and preached
positive thinking as if it was the very nexus of life. As a result of thinking
positively, about everything, she had four children by four different fathers;
all of whom hated each other because of it.

‘Great idea
Sally. Count me in.’ said Chris. ‘I'll try anything.’

‘Cool. How about
you Cyril?’

‘We'll see.’

‘Ello there boy,’
came Sam Henderson's voice from behind Cyril, followed by a healthy, tribal man
hug.

‘Sam. How's
things? Glad you can make it.’

‘Wouldn't have
missed it for the world Cyril Barker. Reckon this'll be the first of many going
away parties, way things are.’ said Sam, as he took a glug of his pint of
scrumpy. ‘If I could cut that Edward's throat and get away with it, I'd do it.’

Join the queue
Sam, your not alone.’ said Cyril attempting to stop Sam from diving into a pit
of doom; as he was prone to do. ‘You'll be OK Sam, surely. Your cottage has
been in your family for, what is it? Three hundred years?’

‘Still belongs to
the estate though.’

‘Yeh, but
Edward'll never get you out. You've got rights these days. You should go down
to Citizens Advice Bureau, they'll sort you out.’

‘Oh, that be
right Cyril. He can't throw us out. But you know what that cunt's like. He's
going to make everyone here want to leave. Bastard.’ Sam looked around at the
gathering. ‘All these people. Look at them.’

Cyril looked at
them. Sam was right. All you could hear was laughter and chatting over the
groaning Lonesome Cowboys. It suddenly hit Cyril. A lump formed in his throat.
To think that this whole world was about to be dismantled. His world was here,
with all these people, and now it was over.

‘Sorry, excuse me
a moment Sam.’ said Cyril as he went over to his van, opened the door, went in
and closed it again with Roger at his heel.

The Deal.

‘Turn right here.’
said Polly, her heart beating furiously, her mind scratching around in a state
of the unknown.

Johnny turned
into the track and stopped.

‘Yes, this is the
one, keep driving until you come to a forest.’

Johnny looked at
Polly suspiciously and pulled away again. As they turned a corner in the track,
Johnny stopped the car again. Up ahead to the right of the track stood a large
truck loaded with huge trunks of oak, a monster bulldozer and a large pile of
spider like roots and stumps, smoldered at the edge of a clearing, the size of
a football pitch. A prefabricated building sat at the front of the clearing and
piles of gravel and sand were dotted around.

‘Oh no, no please
no.’ muttered Polly, her words muffled by her shaking hands, covering her face.

Johnny said
nothing, looked at her, then drove forward, past the truck and stopped again.

‘Dear oh fucking
dear.’ said Johnny with a sinister calm.

Suddenly someone
appeared from behind the truck shining a bright torchlight at the cars
windscreen. The torch beam scanned around the car as the wavering torch came
closer: the moonlight cast a silhouette of a uniformed man.

Johnny wound down
the drivers window, looked at Polly, making sure she could see his hand, poised
between his legs. His gun lay on his lap, cocked and ready.

‘One fucking
word.’ warned Johnny. ‘Just one.’

‘Can I help you
sir?’ said the soft friendly male voice from behind the blinding torchlight.

Johnny said
nothing until the man stopped by the car door, pointed the torch down to the
ground and looked into the car, beaming a naturally soft smile. ‘Evening Miss.’

‘Yeh, we seem to
be a bit lost.’ said Johnny brightly.

‘Ah well you
ain't the first ones. Where would you be looking for then? If you're looking
for the party, it's down there a ways next to the river.’ said the man pointing
his torch back down the track.

Polly watched in
horror as Johnny calmly raised his gun, pointed it straight into the man's face
and fired. The spitting sound from the silencer popped her ears, as she watched
the man stand there for a second, his eyes crossed, the small red hole
perfectly in the centre of his forehead. He wavered slightly before his body
collapsed vertically into a dead heap.

Johnny gently
pulled away, turned around and headed back to the road, his hand never leaving
the Dagenham dagger switch or his gun.

‘My God, how can
you do that!?’ screamed Polly, ‘You're fucking evil.’

Johnny stopped at
the road and calmly looked left and right. He waited a moment: deciding which
way to go.

Polly was
breathing heavily, the fear pumping through every part of her body, her
streaming eyes fixed on him in disbelief.

Johnny turned
right and accelerated hard, crunching his way through the gears, as if he were
venting his anger.

‘Please, please
don't kill me! I beg you,’ screamed Polly desperately. ‘I honestly had no idea!
Please!’

Johnny stared
dead ahead and began to slow a little, then turned down a narrow lane. He drove
for half a mile, then pulled into a side road that led into a clearing in some
woods. He stopped the car and turned off the lights.

By now, Polly's
entire being was in turmoil: her breathing, so intense, there was no space for
words.

Johnny undid his
seat belt, sighed, reached for the door handle and opened the door wide with
his foot. He looked across at her for a second and shook his head.

‘Don't fucking
move.’ Johnny slowly eased himself out of the car pointing his gun at Polly's
head. As he walked around the front of the car to the passenger side, the gun
still aimed at her, Polly looked down at the Dagenham Dagger switch. She could
reach it easily. Johnny unlocked the passenger door and yanked it open, pressed
the silencer into her neck and bent down to unlock her seat belt. It took a few
moments before he could release the deliberately difficult double catch and
ease the belt back into the rollers of the inertia reel.