Danger Close by Charlie Flowers Read Free Book Online Page B

disco mirror balls. Hang on a minute. I was asleep. No, I was definitely awake. Farzana Shaheen was onstage. Graham Norton introduced her. She sang Yes My Darling Daughter with the entire Windmill Club Band behind her. I was at the bar trying to lose myself in a martini but she had my attention. I used to come and watch her do standup at tough east London clubs where she'd get in fights and lose teeth. Certain members of the audience would always take exception to a mad Paki bird ripping the piss out of them onstage, and more often than not it would kick off. Fuzz never held back though, she had a punch on her like a mule-kick. Heck, I'd been at the one where Calamity thought Al Murray was a real pub landlord and had climbed onstage to get her pint back. The ensuing fight had been like something out of a Western.
    This gig was different. Farzana had a story to tell. Farzana had lost a sister and the audience was damn well going to know about it. The band struck up. And we were in. Fuzz sang under the onstage moon.
     
    ‘ I’ve gotta be good or Mama will scold me
    I asked her and this is what she told me
    Mother , may I go out dancing ?
    Yes , my darling daughter
    Mother , may I try romancing ?
    Yes , my darling daughter
    What if there’s a moon , mama darling ,
    and it’s shining on the water
    Mother , must I keep on dancing ?
    Yes , my darling daughter ... ’
     
    I was in Mrs Kirpachi’s garden. I looked around. Nope, I was definitely awake. The garden was bathed in the most beautiful moonlight, from a moon the size of a hot-air balloon. It hung in the trees, and then settled down into them. How had I got here? I’d been in my flat a minute ago. The moonlight illuminated the lawn and there was Bang-Bang. Except she wasn’t Bang-Bang, she was a fox in a kimono. She took my hand and wiggled her shiny black nose.
    ‘C’mon, retard, it’s our wedding.’
    A raccoon tugged the leg of my combat trousers. I looked down at it. Its eyes weren’t raccoon eyes, they were like the eyes of someone on Ecstacy. Deep, pitch-black pools like the dead doll button eyes of a shark. It spoke, but it seemed to have a speech impediment. ‘Wiz. Reddingth.’
    My eyes were drawn to the lawn we were standing on. The lawn was slicked with blood and cartridge cases. How strange blood looks in moonlight. Black.
    Behind us Mrs Kirpachi was sobbing uncontrollably. Bang-Bang turned to both of us and scolded ‘Mum! You should be happy! It’s what you wanted, it’s our wedding!’
    With a start, I realised there was a gunshot wound in her kimono and blood was pouring from it. The moon split apart and there was a blinding light. The light went blue, to white, to blue and...
    I opened my eyes. Fuzz was shaking my shoulder. I was on the lounge carpet under a duvet. She placed a mug of tea beside me and walked away. I got to my feet. The dawn light streamed in. I looked out over the view to Stratford and the Thames. I was shaking. I decided to take the time to pray. Properly.
    ‘Cheers for the tea Fuzz. I just dreamt you were onstage with Graham Norton.’
    She looked at me and finally said ‘and they say I’m the mad one.’
     

 
     
    10
     
    25th September
     
    It was 7.49am. We were parked in the visitors’ car park at Chrome Flightplan in Crawley, just shy of Gatwick airport. A plane thundered over.
    ‘Remind me why we’re here again Fuzz?’
    Fuzz was dressed soberly and smartly for a change, in a charcoal ladies’ business suit, a slightly too-short skirt and Christian Louboutin heels. She was obviously on a vamp mission.
    ‘One, this is the firm that does the logistic support for all the CIA’s rendition flights in the Eastern hemisphere. Two. Me and the MD, have… well, we have a past.’
    She grinned wolfishly.
    ‘And you’ve got an appointment?’
    ‘You betchya. Give me five minutes.’
    She exited the car and went for the reception, giving me a little wiggle on the way in. I clocked it and laughed to myself.
    I turned