‘What did you say about the bloody kettle missus?’ After putting a cardboard box down on the table in front of her, Maggie’s husband, Alex Silva, stood there with his hands on his hips and a frown on his face. ‘You might have a kettle, Maggie, but there are no taps to fill it with. Look around the kitchen; haven’t you noticed there’s something missing?’
Maggie scanned the room. For a moment she couldn’t see what he was talking about. They had travelled a long way, and she was tired, and there was still a lot to do. But looking around the kitchen and following her husband’s lead, she let out a gasp. He was right, there was no kitchen sink!
Numbly, she walked to the corner of the kitchen which held the carcass of a double unit, but no kitchen sink, no draining board. Nothing.
‘What do you think has happened?’ Bewildered and confused, she stared at the blank space again and ran her hand along the wooden unit.
‘I think we need to look around Maggie. The brewery gave us this pub in good faith. They must have checked everything was in order before giving the previous landlord his marching orders, but I’ve a feeling he’s cleaned the place out and taken everything with him that he could scrap and sell. Bastard!’
They walked from the living quarters into the bar of the pub. Just as Alex had predicted, it had been stripped bare. ‘There isn’t a sink in here either and the glass washer is missing. Look at the gap, you can see the water pipes on the floor.’ He pointed. ‘And where is all the stock Maggie? They gave us an inventory. We were told it was fully stocked apart from the barrels of beer. Christ, everything has been taken. Get your phone out and take photos of this lot and then ring the brewery. I don’t want them thinking we’ve stolen it. Christ, we’re up to our neck in enough shit without this!’
‘Do you want the beds in first Mr Silva?’ Two removal men stood in the bar and looked around. Giving a low whistle, they met Alex’s eyes. ‘Looks like the locusts have been through here.’
Alex picked up a nearby dusty glass and turned towards a half-empty optic and poured himself a shot of whisky. ‘I take it they didn’t want this one. Do either of you want one?’ He gulped back the drink.
‘Sorry Mr Silva but I’m driving and we have a lot to do… If you don’t mind, sir, as I said, do you want the beds bringing in first?’
‘Yes, I suppose. If nothing else, we’re going to need somewhere to rest our weary heads tonight. Come on, I’ll give you a hand.’ Alex walked out to the back yard where the removal van was parked and tried not to think about the mess they had been left.
The previous landlord had been hastily told to leave the pub after pocketing a lot of the takings. After being given notice, the terms were that he was to stay for a week until they were settled in and the brewery would refrain from bringing the police into the matter, if he left quietly. By the looks of it he’d totally ransacked the place and done a moonlight flit. Well, Alex mused to himself as he rolled up his shirt sleeves, he’d left quietly all right. Like a thief in the night.
‘Dad, the boiler is flashing a number, and there isn’t any hot water.’
Alex turned and raised his eyebrows at his son. ‘What? Do you mean there’s a sink and taps in the bathroom? Bloody hell, Dante, that’s a nice surprise. I thought you were going to tell me you had to have a shit in a bucket.’ Alex laughed. ‘Come on son, let’s have a look.’
Dante laughed. ‘Don’t say shit, Dad, Mum doesn’t like it. You know what she’s like.’
‘Especially now we’re in Sevenoaks. We’re all going to have to watch our P’s and Q’s… Very lah-di-dah.’
Dante looked up at his father, a flash of concern crossing his face. ‘We are going to stay here, aren’t we Dad?’
Alex looked at his fourteen-year-old son and ran his hand through his black hair. For a young boy he’d already had a lot to cope with. His life had been turned upside down over the last few months and seeing the worried look on Dante’s face, he felt the guilt wash over him. It was all his own doing that his family were living like this and Alex felt suddenly very guilty. ‘There’s nothing that a bit of time won’t help, plus a lick of paint. As for the rest, that’s for the brewery to sort out and then we will be publicans with jobs, a home and a family life – and a kitchen sink!’
A big grin crossed Dante’s face. ‘I thought the saying was everything but the kitchen sink!’
‘Yeah, well, they hadn’t met the previous landlord when they made that saying up, had they? Come on, first job, let’s sort out the boiler, then let’s get the beds up. Where’s your mum got to?’
Just then Maggie joined them, holding her mobile phone in her hand.
‘Well, that’s sorted boys. I’ve just spoken to the brewery and someone is coming to sort out the damage. Although they didn’t sound too surprised when I told them what had happened.’ Maggie looked at the state of the mess around them and sighed. ‘Where’s Deana?’
Dante shrugged his shoulders as he watched his father turn different buttons on the boiler and watched the arrow on the pressure gauge rise. ‘There you go son, give it an hour and we’ll have hot water at least.’
Looking up at Maggie, Alex grinned. ‘Deana’s sat in the car sulking. It’s her age, sixteen with attitude. Let her get on with it, she’ll come in when she’s hungry and thirsty.’ Walking up to them both, Alex put his arms around their shoulders. ‘Time for a group hug. We don’t need to open up for a month, and that’s more than enough time to get sorted. Fuck, if the worst comes to the worst, I will go and buy a sink myself and fit it. I’m not totally useless, you know,’ Alex laughed, trying to bring some humour into the situation.
The banging and crashing of the removal men upstairs reminded them both that it was time to get sorted out. Then Deana popped her head around the door with her arms folded.
‘God, this place is a dump. What’s the point of moving in when we’ll only be moving again soon?’ she said sulkily.
‘If you get your act together madam, we won’t be moving again. I for one don’t intend to.’ Maggie glared defiantly at her husband. They both knew what she meant, but there was no point in talking about it, it was all they’d done for the last few months. Everyone had their skeletons in their cupboards; it just seemed they had more skeletons than most.
‘Deana, you can make the beds, your dad can sort out the television and electrics and you, Dante, can help bring in some of those boxes. These removal men are paid by the hour – so move!’
Deana turned and stomped up the staircase, loudly banging her feet as she did. Maggie rolled her eyes to the ceiling and shook her head. Kids, who would have them?
Just then, Alex spotted two men in suits walking toward them. Instantly, his hackles were up and he was prepared for a fight. Looking around the kitchen area quickly, he spotted a carving knife in one of the boxes and reached for it. ‘Who are you?’ he asked suspiciously.
‘Brewery. Your wife called us.’ The two men looked at the mayhem surrounding them and instantly they started making notes. Alex felt the stress leave him and put the knife back down. ‘Let me show you the rest, gentlemen. Believe me, it’s not pretty.’ Alex led the way while the two men from the brewery spoke in hushed whispers with their heads locked together.
Making herself scarce, Maggie went upstairs to help Deana and hastily pulled the duvets over the beds. ‘That will do for now. All our clothing is in vacuum bags so for now, they can stay there. That’s tomorrow’s job. Thank God these floors are laminated. At least we don’t have to wait until the whole place is carpeted, because I don’t fancy moving those bloody wardrobes again.’
‘Why is most of this stuff second hand? Couldn’t they buy us new stuff, Mum?’
‘The police budget only goes so far and when we start making a proper wage we can replace it, but for now it will do.’
‘You mean they don’t want to pay for new stuff when we’re always on the move. I hated that military base, it felt like a prison camp.’ She sighed.
‘Hush now Deana, the removal men have big ears. Let’s make the most of it, shall we? It’s a chance, which is better than any of the other options. Your dad has stuck his neck out here. We’re on the run from the gang lords, Deana, you know that. The police owe us nothing, other than a watchful eye in return for answers to their questions. We’ve opted out of witness protection to be able to walk in the sunlight again as ourselves. I don’t know what fate has in store for us but, we all agreed this was the right thing to do, remember?’ Maggie paused. They were all tired of looking over their shoulders in fear. Which was why Alex had given them all a choice. If they opted out of the witness programme, they’d be taking their chances, but they’d be able to live a normal life for as long as possible. If they stayed in the protection programme, they would still be hiding away at an ex-military barracks surrounded by detectives. There was no privacy. No days out like they were used to. Alex had always known he could be facing time in prison or death, bit his wife and children were serving his sentence alongside him, and he hated that. Anxiety and depression were creeping into their family. They didn’t recognise each other any more. That was not freedom. It was hell!
‘Nobody owes us anything, Deana. We’ve got to work for what we want and rebuild our lives. We can do this; it will take time but, we can do it.’
‘I know Mum, but look at some of this stuff, it’s scratched or broken. It’s all from charity shops. When I think of how we lived and the things we had. We were rich, Mum…’ Tears brimmed on Deana’s lashes, and she brushed them away with her sleeve.
‘They’re just things, Deana! Are you really that shallow?’ Maggie snapped. ‘We’ve been provided with a home and a job. What we make of it is up to us, but it will be honestly earnt. You’ve already lived a life some people only dream of. Now you have a chance at another life. What little we have we should be grateful for and in time we will replace this lot with new stuff. It’s better than we’ve been used to lately.’
‘I know, it’s just that…’ Deana stopped speaking as one of the removal men popped his head through the door and asked Maggie which room she wanted the dressing table in. As she followed him out of the room, she turned to Deana and put her fingers to her lips to stop her saying any more.
After what seemed like an age, they heard Alex laughing and joking and waving off the brewery men. As Maggie went downstairs, she was surprised at Alex’s high spirits and, more to the point, intrigued at what the brewery men had decided.
