Tuesday 27 July 1999
It was a warm, sunny Tuesday afternoon, with no particularly ominous portents, which, as Charlie reflected later, only goes to show that omens are completely unreliable. He and Liam walked through the streets of Manchester city, heading for the loan shark's office at a pace that lay somewhere between anxious and reluctant.
They should have done this the previous afternoon, but they hadn't got out of the fracture clinic until almost six o'clock , and so the dreaded visit to McManus had been postponed for another day. Neither of them had slept well, and Liam had rung in sick again, which hadn't pleased his employers at the real estate agency, but couldn't be helped. After getting up, and having breakfast, then stuffing around with plastic bags and Sellotape so that Liam could have a shower, and then finding out that it was lunchtime already, they had finally made their way into the city centre a little after three in the afternoon.
Liam showed him where McManus's office was - a bright, cheery office building in the heart of the city, on Portland St . It was unnerving to pass respectable-looking accountants and lawyers and secretaries, knowing that they harboured a criminal in their midst. Well, Charlie thought, a different kind of criminal, anyway. They walked into the foyer, which was decorated - if that word could possibly apply - in chrome and glass. Charlie stopped to consult the directory on the wall, but Liam dragged him over to the stairs, saying, "I know where it is."
They took the stairs up to the first floor and down a short corridor towards the back of the building. The sign on the door read, simply, "McManus & Son". Inside, there was little indication of the type of business transacted by the firm: no glossy posters on the walls, no bright logos or smiling staff members; just a few brochures in a holder that described various cleaning and maintenance services - "for all your office and domestic requirements". Otherwise, it was a plain office reception room, with one desk, a fax machine, a filing cabinet, and several hard chairs. The walls were a non-descript grey, the carpet an even more non-descript blue, and the chairs were a motley group of ages, styles and dull colours. All in all, it was the most bland and forgettable office Charlie had ever seen.
He wondered if McManus had ever thought about brightening the place up - after all, a coat of paint and a picture or two wouldn't cost a lot - and suddenly the nervousness he felt at the imminent confrontation was made ten times worse by an insane desire to turn into a camp interior decorator and waffle on about improving the atmosphere with walls of soothing avocado green contrasted with luscious peach, complemented by the most adorable dado in complementary floral tones. He pressed his lips together and tried to imagine the adorable dado splattered with his and Liam's blood. That seemed to help.
The large dark-haired man - Chris, the one who had backhanded Charlie four days ago - sat at the desk, typing something into the computer with surprising dexterity. He looked up as they entered, and his eyes flickered in recognition.
Liam cleared his throat but kept his arms folded across his chest, the loose sleeve of his jacket hiding the cast. "We - we're here to see Mr McManus."
"Do you have an appointment?" the man asked. He looked suspiciously at Liam's folded arms, and Charlie realised that he was checking them out in case they had a weapon. He dropped his hands, then nudged Liam, who did likewise, revealing the cast.
"No," said Liam, lifting his left arm up to display the cast. "We just have to see him. Um... we have to explain this to him."
The blond man said nothing, but rose and made his way into the adjoining office. They heard voices, which sounded as if McManus wasn't too happy, and Charlie wondered if he would refuse to see them. Still, Chris must have persuaded him, since he opened the door and waved them forward.
The inner office was only slightly more attractive than the outer one, but at least it had a larger window that looked down onto the street and allowed the sun (when not obscured by cloud) to cast some light on the otherwise plain furnishings. There were two hard chairs in front of the desk, and Charlie and Liam sat down there. The blond man retreated to stand in front of the door, preventing their escape - he must have had some fairly nervous customers at times, Charlie thought. McManus looked grim, and Charlie could tell that he was in a bad mood. It didn't augur well for their predicament.
"Well, Liam, Charlie," he nodded at each of them. "Chris tells me you have something to say to me. I'm a very busy man and this meeting has disrupted my routine, so you'd better be quick.
Slowly, Liam uncrossed his arms, revealing the cast. "I’ve broken my arm."
"So. It's broken. And why are you bringing your medical problems to me?"
Well," Charlie said, "he can't play guitar with his hand in plaster." McManus raised an eyebrow, and Charlie went on. "So we can't do any gigs, so we can't get the extra money. But don't worry," he added, hurriedly, "as soon as he's out of plaster we'll be back in the pubs and pulling in loads of dosh. If I can borrow a guitar, that is."
McManus closed his eyes, as if a feeling of great weariness had descended upon him. "Lads," he said, very quietly, "I am not a charity. I am not interested in your excuses or your appointments or your piss-poor excuse for a band. What I am interested in is my money. When am I going to get it?"
"In a couple of weeks?" ventured Liam. Some evil genius prompted him to add, "Unless you want it in kind again, in which case Charlie will-" but he never completed the sentence, as Charlie was out of his seat with his hands around Liam's throat before either McManus or Chris could move.
"You fucking cunt! Don't you dare! Don’t you dare suggest that!" He was blind with rage and fear, almost hysterical, and it took Chris several seconds and considerable effort to haul him off his brother. Eventually, though, he stopped struggling, and Chris dropped him back into his seat. Charlie sat there, chest heaving, eyes downcast, while Liam ran his right hand over his bruised neck. "Sorry about that, Mr McManus," he began smoothly, "Charlie has a bit of a temper." He lifted his cast. "That's how I got this, by the way."
"Arsehole," muttered Charlie, looking daggers at Liam.
McManus looked at them both, startled by the unexpected violence, then got up and slammed his hands down on the desk. "Do you t-take me for an idiot? Do you think you can play games with me?" he shouted. "I think you're trying it on, both of you. I don't b-believe that arm's broken at all." He beckoned Chris with a jerk of his head. "Break his other arm. Break them both. And his legs."
"No! No! Liam cried out as the big man grasped hold of his arm. "It really is broken. I have the note from the hospital."
"Show me." McManus nodded to Chris, who relaxed his hold, and came around to the front of the desk to stand over Liam as he reached into his jacket and brought out the X-ray request form and the appointment slip for fracture clinic.
"I have to have the cast for another four weeks, and then physio."
McManus took the forms and looked at them grimly before handing them back. "I don’t like having to repeat myself, lad, but I will just this once. I d-don't care about your arm. I don't care about you. I want my money and I want it soon. Now, if you can't provide that money for me, I'm going to have to get it from someone else. Someone near and dear to you."
Charlie felt his heart sink and his stomach heave, and he had to grip the arms of the chair tightly to stop himself from bolting. He didn't want to hear this, he didn't want to hear McManus making the same threats he had made the previous Friday, but McManus continued, inexorably, his voice cold and implacable.
"You know how easy it is for accidents to happen these days, lads. It would be a horrible thing if your little brother fell off his bicycle, or a mugger came across your Mum leaving work on a dark night, now, wouldn't it? Yet these random acts of violence happen all the time in modern cities, and so many of them go unsolved and unpunished."
"You bastard!" Charlie spat out, but Chris's heavy hand on his shoulder prevented him from getting up.
"Any more of that, lad, and you'll be nursing a few broken bones yourself." McManus warned. "Or your little brother will. Fine boy he is, young Kevin, from what I hear. Apple of your mother's eye, and all that. Don't you agree, Liam?"
Liam was almost cowering in his seat, but Charlie resolutely stared straight ahead, until he realised that he was looking directly at the McManus's crotch. He looked up instead, into jade-green eyes, and to his shame he found himself pleading with the loan shark.
"Please," he said, "please don't hurt Kevin. Or Mum, or anyone in the family. They don't have anything to do with this. There's no reason why they should ever know. All we need is a little more time. I can get a job."
"A job." McManus looked sceptical.
Charlie blinked away a tear, desperate for McManus to believe him. "I sign on tomorrow anyway - I'm sure there'll be something available. If the band isn't playing, maybe I can get a factory job, shiftwork - that would pay a bit more. I'll do anything, anything, just give us more time."
The jade-green eyes stared back at him, but he couldn't read the expression in them. He wasn't sure if it was desire or shame or hunger or self-loathing. Right then, though, all he'd seen was that it wasn't anger, and that was an improvement from a few minutes earlier.
"Anything?" McManus leaned closer, his face just inches away from Charlie's - close enough that Charlie could feel the man's breath on his cheek. "Well then, lad, anything gives us a bit of scope now, doesn't it? Anything could include ways to pay off some of that debt that you might not otherwise consider." McManus gave a wolfish grin - no, a sharkish grin - Charlie corrected himself - as he straightened up and leaned back against the desk. "Are you sure you mean anything?"
Charlie felt a cold lump of dread in his stomach, but nodded. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like whatever McManus said next.
"How long are you in plaster for?" McManus asked Liam.
"Four weeks, maybe a bit longer. Then physio."
"Call it five. That takes us up to the end of August." He paused, as if to reassure himself that he had the full attention of his audience. He did: both brothers were looking up at him earnestly, and Charlie was wracking his brains trying to work out what McManus was going to say next. He wasn't even close.
"I'll make you an offer, lads. I’ll take Charlie’s services in lieu of your payments for five weeks, until 31st of August. He’ll be at my beck and call, he’ll do what I say, when I say, where I say, and he’ll do it without complaint. If he’s really good, I may even take off some of the principal. Or you can come up with the money by Friday." He stood there with a satisfied smirk on his face as he watched their reactions.
The silence in the room stretched to breaking point. No one spoke, no one moved, until -
"All of it."
Charlie's voice was shockingly clear.
"What? Charlie, you're not serious, are you?" It was Liam, incredulous, but he was ignored as McManus and Charlie stared at each other.
"All of it." Charlie repeated, his eyes locked with McManus, and he felt the nervousness recede. McManus wanted him. This wasn't just another way to frighten him into coming up with the money. McManus wanted him, and the knowledge gave him confidence. He took a deep breath, feeling calmer now, more in control of the situation than he had been in days. "I want the whole debt wiped out – all the interest, all the principal."
"You have a very high opinion of your worth, lad," said McManus, the slight huskiness in his voice betraying his interest.
Charlie took advantage of it. "Five weeks. I’ll be your rent boy for five weeks, do whatever you say, whatever you want… but only if it covers the whole of the debt. Otherwise I won’t do it at all."
McManus said nothing, and Charlie, dropping his voice, continued, "You’ve sampled the goods already, you know I’m worth it. And I can do even better than that, believe me. But once the month is over, it's over. That’s it. The debt is paid in full, there is nothing more owed to you or the store. I go back to my family and you go back to terrorising the poor and under-privileged and we never see each other again."
Liam had recovered from his shock and was now looking at his brother, his expression no longer incredulous but almost pleased, as if he'd got away with something - which, Charlie thought, wasn't too far from the truth. But Liam was a problem for another day. McManus had to be sorted now, before he started dragging the family into an already-bad situation.
McManus walked back around to his own side of the desk, and looked out of the window for what seemed like forever, but was probably only about a minute and a half.
Bluff and counter-bluff. It was a tricky situation, with far too many variables: Charlie, McManus, Liam, the band, their family, jobs, rent...
Charlie tried to work out what he would do if the Shark took him up on his offer. Or if he didn't. Quite frankly, Charlie didn't know which he wanted less. He just knew he didn't want the family involved.
Liam started fidgeting in his chair, picking at his nails and the rough edge of the plaster cast.
Eventually, McManus turned back to face them and nodded. "Aye, all right. All of it. Charlie's at my disposal from now until 31st August. During that time he does whatever I tell him to do, he goes where I say and when I say. At the end of the period he goes back to his loving family and the debt is considered discharged, interest and principal."
"Can I get that in writing?" Liam, of course, the stupid git.
Charlie elbowed him in the ribs. "Fuckwit," he muttered.
"Don’t be bloody stupid, boy." McManus was grimly amused. "You have witnesses – two of us and two of you. That will have to be sufficient." He looked at Charlie. "So, are we agreed?"
Their eyes met, and Charlie could feel the hunger that the Shark was trying so hard to conceal. He felt as if he was falling into the ocean - a green ocean, an arctic ocean, cold and bitter and dangerous - and it was exhilarating.
"Yeah," he said, his voice even deeper than before, "I’ll do it."
They continued to look at each other for long seconds, neither wanting to give way.
"That’s great," Liam chimed in, breaking the spell. "All settled then."
McManus visibly forced himself back into business-like mode, saying, "Get out of here, then. Charlie, leave your mobile number with Chris before you go. You’ll be rung tomorrow with instructions."
Charlie hesitated, his new-found confidence deserting him at this unexpected demand. "I- I don’t have a mobile phone."
McManus pursed his lips and Charlie wondered if he was going to reneg on the deal. Do I want him to? He didn't know.
"I’ll sort it out tomorrow, boss," he heard Chris say, and felt relieved. Back under control again.
McManus nodded. He glanced at his diary and saw the entry for tomorrow evening. "Tomorrow evening, meet me at the Ypsilante bar in Mount St . Do you know where that is?"
"Yeah, I know where it is."
"Be there at 7pm ." He nodded to Chris, who escorted the two brothers out of the office.
They wasted no time in leaving the building, but once outside they stopped on the pavement and looked at each other. Liam couldn't hide his shit-eating grin.
"Fuck, Charlie! Did you hear that? We did it!"
"You did nothing, you stupid arsehole, except make things worse. As usual."
"Hey, lil bro', what's wrong? You get yourself a boyfriend for the month and we get rid of the debt. Couldn't be sweeter."
Charlie rounded on him, exasperated. "He is not my fucking boyfriend! And you have absolutely no idea what I'm going to have to do for the next month."
"Yeah, well, I'm not a fucking pansy, am I, so of course I've no idea. And don't tell me, 'cos I really don't want to know." He threw an arm around Charlie's shoulders. "But thanks for saving my arse - quite literally!" he laughed.
Charlie threw him off, feeling sick. "I didn't do it for you. I did it for Kevin and Mum and Dad. And the band. Now fuck off and leave me alone for a while, will you?"
Liam shrugged, undismayed. "Suit yourself. I'll give Susan a ring, see what she's able to do for a poor wounded soldier." Grinning in anticipation, Liam strode off down the street, still oblivious to anything but his own personal interest.
Charlie shook his head and turned to go off in the other direction. He had a lot to think about.