Souchard

By: Will B
(© 2009-2010 by the author)
 

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 3 

London, April 10, 9:30 pm

It’s a common cliché to start a story with ‘It was a dark and stormy night,’ but in this case, it was true. Rain was coming down like stair-rods, and in the darkness of Anchorage Alley not even the rats would venture out of the drainpipes and holes to search for foods.

There were no pedestrians abroad and very few cars. Most of the narrow road was dark because vandals had broken the streetlights, and the owners of the one occupied building didn’t want to embarrass their patrons with any external lighting that might reveal the faces of those who parked behind the building and furtively knocked on the back door.

The building was four stories high, and heavy black-out curtains prevented light from any of the rooms from seeping out. The windows on the top floor were barred, much like children’s nurseries in days gone by.

The basement had several rooms with added walls furnished like a medieval torture chamber with whips, chains, and other equipment that does not bear too close examination.

The ground floor had a reception hall, and a parlor with comfortable chairs and sofas. Here patrons might relax and inspect what they had come to see, to enjoy, and to use as they saw fit.

The two floors above that contained bedrooms, each one fitted out with beds, mirrors, and photographic equipment.

The top floor, the one with the barred windows, was mainly taken up by a large combination bedroom and living room, with an attached bathroom, where one might enjoy a nice hot shower and get really clean; however, the general atmosphere was not one of light, warmth, and elegance. A single light bulb burned high above the floor.  Cobwebs hung from the ceiling and the paint and wallpaper was peeling away. Behind the walls the scrabbling of tiny feet gave evidence of the presence of rats.

The room was inhabited by six boys: Jimmy Smith aged 10, Terry Jones, also 10, Danny Brown, 11, Bobby Wilson, aged 10, Harry Anderson, aged 11, and Ron Poole, aged 12.  They all had nothing on but underpants that were none too clean.

None of the boys in the room looked forward to being allowed to take a ‘nice hot shower,’ because they knew what would follow the shower.

“Do you think this rain will keep the punters home tonight?” Jimmy asked.

“Gawd, I hope so. I hate this place. I’d jump out the window if I could,” replied Danny.

“At least when they come for us, we get to shower and get some clean clothes!” Harry said.

“Yeah,” said Bobby, “but what happens then? We get taken downstairs, to ‘entertain’ the customers.”

“At least some of them just want to take pictures, but I hate it when they want to… you know!” Jimmy answered.

I hate it when Jake comes up to give me a shower. He looks at me as if he would like to….I don’t know…but it scares the hell out of me,” said Danny.

“I tell you guys, I am scared shitless,” said Ron. “I’m the oldest and I’m starting to get hair down there.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” said Harry. “Lonnie was here and then one day, when his dick had started to grow, they took him away and we never saw him again.”

<Bang!> <Bang!> <Bang!>

“What’s that?” Harry asked.

Even at the top of the house they boys could hear voices raised in anger, then cussing and shouting. They heard steps coming up the stairs and they huddled together.

The door opened and they saw a tall man in a policeman’s uniform.

“Oh, hah hah,” Ron laughed. “They’re dressing up like coppers, so they can give us the third degree, or anything else they want to give us. Hah hah hah. Come on you fucker, take me. Do what you want. Let’s get it over with, I can’t stand the waiting. Hah hah haha hah HAH HAHAH HAH HAHA.”

<Slap!>

“Sorry, young man, I had to do that,” said the tall man. “We’re not here to hurt you. I’m Nigel Eden, Chief Inspector of the CID.”

Ron’s hysteria had given away to quiet sobbing. Eden did the only thing a senior police officer, who had faced armed criminals, who had superintended the ‘taking out’ of terrorists, who had faced death many times, could do. He pulled the sobbing Ron into a close embrace and said, “It’s all right, lad. Let it out. Let it out. You’re going to be fine now.”

Another man and woman, also in uniform, had come into the room, and now Inspector Eden introduced them. “This is Women’s Police Constable Polly Sanders, and Police Constable Doug Watson.

“Are you going to arrest us?” Jimmy wanted to know, half-hoping; half fearing what would come next.

“No, son,” Doug Watson answered him. “We’re going to take you out of here, get you some decent clothes, and take you to a safe place.”

“I’ve brought bathrobes and flip-flops for you to put on,” Polly Sanders said.

“Just so you know, the men who run this place have been taken into custody and will never bother you again,” Chief Inspector Eden assured them.

“Guv,” Watson said, “I’ve brought soap and shampoo, and I wonder if these guys might to like to clean up before they put on their new clothes.”

“Good thinking,” said Eden. “Guys, can you clean yourselves up okay, or do you want one of us to give you your showers?”

“No! No! We can do it,” came a chorus of replies from the horrified boys. “We can do it.”

“Guv, on our way to the station, could we have the van pull into the drive-thru of a McDonalds? I bet these young men could use something to eat,” Constable Sanders said.

“Yes, yes, please!” came a chorus of replies from the delighted boys.

Smith Manor Safe House, April 11, 10:00 am

Jane Denver was in her office, a large room on the ground floor of the manor house. The lower part of the walls was painted a dark brown, but above the chair rail, a lighter brown had been used. The floor was covered with a large carpet of green, and the one window had drapes of the same color.

The room was furnished with a desk, a computer, monitor and printer, a file cabinet, and several bookshelves. One shelf was devoted to cook books. There was a fireplace flanked by two easy chairs, each of which had a small table beside it.

Jane was not sitting behind her desk; she was seated on one of the easy chairs in front of the fire (April mornings can be chilly in Merry Old England!). She was holding a cup of coffee, and talking to with another woman, seated on the other easy chair.

“Mrs. Fleming, I have read your application for employment.  I see you’re certified as a counselor and as a math teacher, but tell me, in your own words, why you want to work at this safe house,” Jane inquired of the other woman.

“Mrs. Denver, as you see, I am Molly Fleming, I’m 39, and a widow. What my application doesn’t say is that I had a son, Tony, who came to London. He fell in with bad company and was killed in a gang fight. I want to do whatever I can to help other children who have been at risk. It’s something I just have … to …”

Molly started to choke up, and Mrs. Denver reached over and patted her arm. “That’s all right, Mrs. Fleming. I think I understand.”

After a moment, Molly pulled herself together, took out a handkerchief and blew her nose. “I’m all right, thank you. …So! Do you think I can have the job?”

“Yes, I will be happy to have you working here. The only thing is, it may be a few weeks before I can….” Jane was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone.

“Excuse me. Hello, Jane Denver speaking…Yes, Chief Inspector Eden, I remember you very well….What!..How many?... Of course we can…. When will you…This afternoon?.... Yes, we’ll be ready…. Thank you. Goodbye.”

Looking at Molly, Jane smiled and said, “There’s been a change in plans. Do you think you could start today?”

“Well, of course. I thought perhaps I might be staying, so I packed a suitcase.”

“Good. Now first things first. We’re going to be working together, so I’m Jane.”

“And I’m Molly. And thank you for this.”

“Now, Molly, that was Chief Inspector Eden of the CID. He will be bringing six young boys to the safe house.  We’re going to have to get beds ready, and check the pantry, but I’m sure we have enough food. Chief Inspector Eden said he would tell us about the situation when he gets here.”

The two women got busy and found one room that would hold beds for the boys. “I think that these boys will be more comfortable if they know they are together,” Jane said.

Jane, I’ve been thinking,” Molly said, as they tucked the corners of the sheet into the last bed. “I think we should put on aprons, just so the boys will think of us as ‘mothers,’ rather than social workers.”

“Excellent idea, Molly. Now let’s see what we can fix for dinner. We’d better plan on enough for the six boys, Inspector Eden and two police officers, you and me, and oh! I almost forgot! And Daoud and Bahnadi. That will be 13. You’re not superstitious are you,” Jane asked.

“Not at all, Jane, but who are Daoud and Bahnadi?” Molly asked.

“They’re two young men from Uganda who are also here as residents seeking a safe house,” Jane replied.

At three o’clock, a police van pulled up in front of the manor house and out got Inspector Eden, Constables Sanders and Watson, and six boys looking scared and curious at the same time.

Jane came to the door wearing an apron over her usual black dress. The usually impeccably dressed Jane Denver had a smudge of flour on her forehead and several more on her sleeves.

“Hello, Inspector. Please forgive my floury appearance. I’ve been making Yorkshire pudding and plum duff for dinner. But come in, all of you, please.”

She led the group into a large parlor, where Molly Fleming and Daoud and Bahnadi waited.  Eden introduced the two constables, and Jane introduced Molly, and Daoud and Bahnadi.

“And who are these young gentlemen?” Jane asked, smiling at them.

Each of the boys introduced themselves. “I’m Jimmy Smith.” “Terry Jones.” “Danny Brown.” “Bobby Wilson.” “Harry Anderson.” Ron Poole.”

“Now, boys, I have put you all in one room because I thought you all might like to be together, but tomorrow we can look around and see if we can find rooms for each of you,” Jane said.

The boys put their heads together and talked among themselves for a minute, and then Ron spoke up. “Please, miss. We’d all sort of like to stay together. We’re mates, you see, and we want to stay together. Please, miss. Please.”

“Of course. If that’s what you all want, that’s what you’ll have.”

Daoud and Bahnadi had been cued in, so to speak. They knew that Jane wanted to have a chance to talk to the officers, and the boys had a plan.

“Listen, guys,” Daoud said. “I have the latest X-box games on my computer. Would you like to see them?”

“Wicked.” “Brilliant.” “Wow” came the enthusiastic replies.  Five of the boys followed Daoud out of the room. Only Ron remained.

“Ron? That’s your name, right?” Bahnadi asked.

Ron nodded.

“I’m going out to the barn and feed the horses. Would you like to come with me and meet them? Their names are ‘Salt’ and ‘Pepper’, and I have some apple that I’m going to give them. You want to come?”

Ron’s eyes lit up like the proverbial Christmas tree. He looked at Inspector Eden who said, “Go ahead, Ron.”

Ron and Bahnadi went out to the barn, and Inspector Eden looked at Jane and Molly and said, “I think he’s going to be all right.”

While the boys were gone, Eden filled in Jane and Molly on the situation in which he had found the boys. When he had finished, Molly was wiping her eyes, and Jane was sniffing.  “I’m so glad you brought the boys here,” Jane said.

“If I may say something?” Polly Sanders began. “I think that Daoud and Bahnadi will help the boys adjust, and the boys will be good for those two young men.”

Doug Watson looked at this young police woman with admiration for her sense of perception. He had just met her a week or two ago, and there was just that something about her that…..

“Now, can you all stay for an early dinner?” Jane asked. I thought you might, and so there’s plenty. Enough to feed twenty people, I think.”

<Knock> <Knock>

“Shall I see who’s at the door?” Molly asked.

She went out and returned with two older men.

“Chet and Gerald!  How good to see you.” Jane introduced them to the officers, and then said asked, “Can you stay for dinner?”

“Of course,” said Gerald. “Chet and I would like to meet these boys. We’ll stay if you’re sure you’ll have enough.”

Dinner was a happy occasion. There was good food, pleasant conversation, and the six boys found they were feeling more and more as if they were home.

After dinner, three of ‘London’s finest’ left for home, and Chet and Gerald also took their departure.

When it was time for bed, the boys were only too happy to sleep in comfortable beds with clean sheets and warm duvets.

Jane and Molly bade them good night and went downstairs to make some plans for the next day.

To be continued...

The author offers his humble apologies to the readers for not ending this chapter with a cliff hanger. He also thanks his faithful reader and mentor, A. Nony Mouse, for his efforts.

Posted: 04/16/10