Heavy Duty Attitude by Iain Parke Read Free Book Online Page B

the other lad decided to get involved. He could see it as well and he didn’t like it.
    ‘That’s not what it’s about. It’s not about being a poseur,’ he dismissed the prospect with barely concealed hostility and contempt, ‘and you don’t talk to anyone about the club without the club’s say so. Club business is club business you understand? Because if you don’t get that then you’re never gonna make it.’
Danny fell silent and his face flushed red.
     
‘Time to go,’ said Bung, and I stood up and walked away.
     
*
     
Wibble wanted to see me. ‘You’re staying the night,’ he said bluntly. ‘Don’t worry, Bung here’ll look after you and I’ll sort you out properly afterwards.’
    He must have seen the look on my face.
‘No, not that sort of sort you out . Protection I mean.’
I didn’t know what he meant by that, but I didn’t much like the sound of it.
    It seemed as though I was free to come and go as I liked around the site, but given what had happened with Thommo, straying too far from Bung and the Freemen didn’t seem too smart a move. Still it wasn’t as if we were joined at the hip so I had a chance to think as we took a stroll round the site.
    Bring a sleeping bag Wibble had instructed me when he’d given me the details of the run, so I had, just so as not to piss him off. So it gave me an excuse to head back over to where they were all parked up although what I really wanted to do was surreptitiously check out the situation by the bikes again. Of course, there were strikers on guard. If they had been told I wasn’t to leave, there was no way I was going to be getting my bike back out the gates, and anyway, there were strikers on them as well under the control of a quiet watchful pair of patches, collecting the ticket money from the faithful as they arrived and stuffing it into plastic carrier bags that every so often would be collected by a posse of full patches and carried off back to the members only tent.
‘So where are you guys sleeping?’ I asked Bung as I unhooked my bag from where it was bungeed to the bike’s buddy seat.
     
‘Crash tents. Some of the strikers have come in a transit and they’re busy getting them up now.’
    ‘The ones behind the beer tent?’
‘Yeah, it’s all TA gear, Widget and his lads have borrowed it for the weekend.’
So that explained the gang I’d seen laying out a row of large green army tents.
     
As we made our way back across the showground so I could drop my gear off, I was still keeping my eyes open for possible escape routes.
    There was a fence around the rest of the site facing onto the road and hedges and smaller fences elsewhere. Even if I gave Bung the slip, I’d be seen if I tried climbing over any of them during the day so if I wanted out, I resigned myself to the fact that it looked like the best bet might be to wait for dark anyway.
    While Bung stopped to meet and greet a posse of bikers from some support club that he seemed to know and want to chat to, I took the chance to wander out of sight for a moment and whip out my mobile.
Thank Christ, Bob answered on the second ring. Breathlessly I filled him in on my situation and asked what he thought I should do.
    ‘Nah, you’ll be safe enough I’d think,’ he said, ‘It’s the Brethren’s main public event of the year, a big money spinner and a shop window for them. They aren’t going to want to compromise all that with a murder. Not when they could do it any other time. Why have the hassle?’
So it looked as if my chances of rescue from the outside weren’t great either.
    ‘OK?’ asked Bung as he caught up with me as I chatted with the guy at the next stand about his charity which involved getting disadvantaged kids to build ratty but working bikes.
‘Yeah fine,’ I said cheerfully, but I remember thinking as I did so, show any fear and you’ll never going to fucking get out of here alive.
    But as it happened, as the afternoon wore on, despite my misgivings, I