Jumping Through Hoops

[Celtic_1967]

The last few days have been wonderful. I’ve enjoyed being the manager of my club, the thoughts of being a Daddy and Mark Venus is about to be hand delivered to the police by Grace Fenton.

I’m enjoying it so much that I had spent the last few days with a smug look on my face and a spring in my step. The look was wiped away with one phone call. A call from him... he always seemed to be there to destroy my enjoyment, and today he was gloating.

I had no choice but to answer the call. The phone in my car rang as I made my way to the stadium. My car’s Bluetooth automatically connects the calls. He didn’t even wait for me to speak before he launched in with the gloating.

‘You thought you’d won didn’t you. You really are stupid if you think I’d let you beat me. I will always win and now that I have the only evidence that can link me to Robin Horse’s killing I’m free and clear.’

He was bluffing, he had to be. He claimed he’d get the keys before and then never gone after them. Anyway the keys were safe with Grace F... unless we’d been double crossed. We couldn’t have been though, she’d suffered a similar fate to Jen.

‘You really will believe any old sh*t won’t you!’ It was her voice. The bitch had tricked us. The line was dead again.

‘F*CK!’ was all I could manage.

[gavrenwick]

thrilled

[mark wilson27]

@Celtic_1967 Neil has opened it back up for you mate...feel free to write away

[neilhoskins77]

1 hour ago, mark wilson27 said:

@Celtic_1967 Neil has opened it back up for you mate...feel free to write away

I can see me having to have a catch up on this one! Lovely to see you back here @Celtic_1967

[Celtic_1967]

Gone was the man who'd felt like he'd owned Parkhead only a couple of days before. Left in his place was a shadow of the man he had been. I knew there was nothing left to do but to give up my miserable excuse for an existence.

The way I had failed myself and my family was to be nearly my final act. My hubris had done for me. I'd been far too cocky by half, despite Venus and both the Fentons being at least one step ahead of me the whole time. I say at least one step ahead because I can see now that I really had no idea where they were. They could be so far ahead of me that I wouldn't be able to see them with a telescope.

**** it. It was over now and about to be over for good.

[Celtic_1967]

Failure. The inability to achieve something you are trying to achieve. The inability to be what you want to be. The inability to be anything at all.

I lay on the floor covered in the stench of failure. I was such a failure that I didn't even deserve to sleep in the bed. Thoughts of the way I would end it all swam around my head. This was what happened to me when my depression was bad. 

Four hours earlier I had emptied my pockets and left my house with only my car keys and my cash. Not taking my phone or my laptop meant I was uncontactable. Not taking the cards from my wallet made me much less traceable. It also meant I only had access to the money in my pocket. I couldn't get any more. Once it was gone then I knew it would be time to go as well.

It was unfortunate that the cash in my pocket came to less that £100.

I'd got into my car and removed the SIM card from the phone system. I didn't want to be traced. 

I'd driven 2 hours and found myself pulling into the car park of the Premier Inn at Junction 42 of the M6. I'd checked in, paid with the vast majority of the cash I had and took myself down to my assigned room.

For the last 2 hours I'd been laid on the floor in my failure. Nobody knew where I was and I wanted it to stay that way. I wanted to live here in my own failure, where I could be comfortable in the discomfort. Were I was getting what I deserved. As a failure the failure was the only thing I'd ever succeeded at.

I had one night in this hotel and £28 in my pocket, after which I was on my way out. I just had to work out how I was going to achieve it. With only £28 available and less than 24 hours before I'm due to leave my options are seriously limited.

Edited January 15, 2021 by Celtic_1967
Typo

[mark wilson27]

And its back,will be following as always sir....its damn good to have you back posting sir

[Celtic_1967]

Thanks Mark. Glad to have you along.

24 hours isn't going to be enough for my method of choice.

I'm going to have to come up with something else.

Paracetamol in a large enough dose will cause liver failure and death but it'll take a few days to a week to work, time which I haven't given my self. I've got 24 hours before I have to leave this room. I don't have my phone; that was left behind deliberately although I really could do with it now. I could solve the problem of how if I had my phone.

Absentmindedly I picked myself up off the floor, put my hands in my pockets and paced the floor, desperate to come up with something. Not a single, achievable, idea entered my head. What was in there were madcap ideas that always fill my head in these situations. Crazy machines that I've built to kill myself and are designed to hold me in place whilst the machine finishes me off. It's crazy, but it's always there in these situations.

I pull my hands out of my pockets and start messing with the three pound coins in my hand. It's a habit I've picked up from my Dad. Take the change out of your pocket, sort it into size order and then put it back in your pocket. God knows why, but it's a habit I'll be stuck with for another 24 hours. After that I'll sort no more change, or much of anything else for that matter.

As I drop the three coins back into my pocket I feel something jab my finger. Hunting around in the pocket I find it. The solution to my problems. The SIM card I took out of my car. I can make the phone call after all, although it'll mean the possibility of being traced. I'm going to have to chance it.

Edited January 16, 2021 by Celtic_1967

[Celtic_1967]

This is going to have to be quick. On and off again as speedily as possible.

Having slid the SIM into the slot I turn the key in the ignition and wait. And wait. And wait second after infinitesimal second. The sim is live and trackable although it isn't available for me to call out. I'm still waiting for the numeric keypad to turn green. Until it does I'm here to wait.

I hear the blood rushing in my ears as time continues to tick. Seconds last lifetimes in this wait; and then finally we have green for go.

Scrolling through the contacts I find the contact I'm looking for. I push the button to start the call and wait for it to connect.

Somewhere in Liverpool a mobile phone sprang to life.

'Scouse... don't speak, just listen. I need a...'

'... ... ...'

'Can you guy meet me in an hour?'

'...'

'Carlisle Train Station.'

I rip the SIM card out and toss it into the glove box; strap myself in and put my foot to the floor.

 

[gavrenwick]

Thrilled once more to see this appearing on my feed. <3 

[Celtic_1967]

Thanks Gav.

I knew it was only three miles to the train station. I could leave my car here and walk there in an hour. That way if the call was traced all they'd find was the car.

I took the car keys out of my pocket and placed them on top of the drivers side front wheel. If anyone found the car and knew it was mine I thought this gesture looked deliberate. It said I knew what I was doing.

As I made my way from the outskirts in towards the train station my wife's phone rang.

'Hi Mrs. Kowalski. We've traced his car phone we know where he is.'

'... ... ... ... ... ...'

'Yes, we're going to find him now. We'll update you once we have him.'

Blue lights and sirens pass me as I make my way into town. I don't know if they're for me but I keep my head down just in case. My heart feels like it's going to jump out of my chest. Internally I'm begging that, if they are for me, they don't see me or recognise me. I'm just going to keep walking until I get to the train station.

Im not totally sure where I'm going but there are sporadic signs for the station so I'm going to keep going in this direction.

It's a nervous walk, hoping I don't run into any of Carlisles finest and knowing that I'm not coming back. I'm heading towards a meeting with a guy called T-Rex, he has what I need. I spend the next few minutes wondering how he got that name. Must remember to ask him.

Edited January 17, 2021 by Celtic_1967

[Celtic_1967]

Finally the station comes into view. It's taken me 53 minutes to get here. I make my way over to an empty space on the bench outside the station and take a seat; pulling my collar up as I sit down. Like it'll make any difference.

Hopefully T-Rex will be here soon. I don't want to sit here any longer than necessary; I'm a sitting duck here. I'm watching everyone pass and eyeing them suspiciously; wondering if it them. Even the old lady who comes out of the station. Even though it can't be her, can it?

Seven minutes pass like a year. Finally I see a guy that, frankly looks like a drug dealer, approaches me. He's definitely coming this way.

'Mike?'

'Yeah... are you...?' I let the question trail away because I'd felt stupid repeating his nickname out loud.

'T-Rex? Yeah that's me.'

'Why do they call you that?'

'Obvious isn't it?'

'Erm... '

He hands me a plastic bag from his inside pocket, as he checks no-one is looking. I slide it into the inside of my jacket. It's bulky but I do my best to hide it.

'I'm a small arms dealer' he says with a grin as wide as the Clyde.

[Celtic_1967]

'Mrs. Kowalski... yes it's Cumbria Police... we've found his car; but he's not there. It's parked at the Premier Inn. We've spoken to the hotel and they have confirmed he is staying there. They said they'd call us when he gets back. Once we get their call we'll head straight back and check on him. Until then we've got everyone on lookout for him.

***

Normally 'Small arms dealer' would make me laugh. This wasn't normal however and I could do without the jokes. I nodded my understanding and turned towards the station to leave. 

'Take it easy.' T-rex called behind me, trying to make it look like two friends meeting up.

I lifted my hand and waved him away without turning around. I walked into the station and across the ticket hall to the machine on the far side. I bought a single to Workington, which was just down the coast and headed for the platform. I've got £12 left, but I won't need it. Must get rid of it somewhere, won't be any good to me.

A few minutes later the train to take me to Workington is ready to leave. I'm aboard and clutching my package tightly whilst trying to look inconspicuous. This train looks ancient and feels everyone of its 40 years old as it throws me about in my seat. The ride is awful and I can hardly wait until I can get off. Although the thought of getting off leads to thoughts of what will happen after that, which makes me feel queasy. Well, more queasy than the ride had already made me.

I stare out of the window and watch the coastline go by; trying to blank my mind before we reach our destination. Finally we get there and I make my way out of the station felling paranoid and trying for all the world to look like I should be there.

I turned left out of the station and made my way down Town Quay along the side of the River Derwent. It's roughly a mile to where I'm trying to get to and it's a straightforward walk; but tears are starting to fill my eyes as I make my way. The 15 minute walk gives time not so much for my life to flash before my eyes but for me to think about a lot of what has happened to me over my lifetime.

The wind is cold and stings my eyes and cheeks as I fight to keep my eyes open against the cold. Keep them open for a few more minutes and you can close them permanently soon.

As I reach my destination I am happy to see the car park deserted. I make my way across it and over onto the shoreline. I pass a man walking his dog in the opposite direction and try to offer a cheery wave. I'm determined not to stand out.

I make my way to a sandbank and sit, propped up against it. I take the package from my jacket and, having checked no-one is around, inspect the contents. One pistol and six bullets. Just as requested. I remove 5 of the bullets and bury them as deeply in the sand as I can. Now it's just me and this bullet.

Checking again to ensure no-one is about I place the gun under my chin, pointing towards my brain. *BOOM*

 

[Celtic_1967]

Jumping Through Hoops will return for the newly planned second part in the next few weeks. 

Edited January 21, 2021 by Celtic_1967