Jack Byrne

Before The Storm published by Northodox Press
Excerpt of Chapter 13
11.30am, Friday, June 3rd, 1981

The kid was scrambling back up the slope. Sammo stepped out
and started moving towards him.
‘Sammo,’ Macca shouted. ‘Wait. What are you doing?’
Sammo didn’t wait. Vinny watched, impressed by Sammo’s
independence, as he ran to the top of the slope.
Macca waited, then frowned. ‘Fuck it. Come on.’
He and Vinny followed Sammo.
Sammo reached the top of the slope and started collecting
the kid’s books. He picked up his bag and put the stuff back in.
When the kid was near the top of the slope, Sammo reached
down to give him a hand. Vinny and Macca joined them.
Macca spoke first. ‘Why did the bizzies throw you out here?’
‘I don’t know.’ The kid was around their age. He had a brown
freckled face and a short, loose afro. His clothes and shoes
muddied from sliding down the slope.
‘Bastards,’ Sammo said, then asked, ‘Where did they pick you
up?’
‘On my way to school. I was going in late, and they pulled up
next to me. Then they searched my bag, and when they didn’t
find anything, told me to get in the car.’
‘What did they say in the car?’ asked Sammo.
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‘Nothing, they were just calling me darkie, laughing, and
saying I would have a long walk home.’
‘Bastards,’ Sammo repeated before asking, ‘What’s your name?’
‘Jaime,’ the boy said. He accepted his bag from Sammo and
checked the contents.
‘Where are you from?’ Vinny asked.
‘Liverpool 8.’ He looked around. ‘Where am I now?’
‘Speke,’ said Vinny.
‘Oh, fuck. I’ve never been to Speke.’
‘Well, you have now,’ said Macca, pointing up the lane. ‘You’d
better get going.’
‘Have you got any money for the bus?’ Sammo asked.
‘No. I’m skint,’ said Jaime.
‘No dinner money?’ Sammo asked.
‘On free dinners,’ Jaime said.
‘Snap,’ Vinny and Sammo both said.
The three boys smiled. Sammo reached into his pocket and
brought out a Marathon bar.
‘Here, are you hungry?’
‘Thanks.’ Jaime reached out for it.
‘You’d better get going then,’ Macca repeated. ‘You go back
up Dungeon Lane, you’ll get to the estate, and you can find a
bus stop there.’
‘He doesn’t know his way,’ said Sammo.
Vinny could see the standoff brewing.
‘Not our problem. We have a mission to complete,’ Macca replied.
Jaime shrugged.
‘He can come with us,’ Sammo said. ‘When we get to Garston,
we can show him the bus stop.’
‘He’s not with us. He’s not even white. He’s a you know…’
said Vinny. His face flushed as the word came out. He drew
circles in the dirt with his foot. His attempt at getting in with
Macca left a sour taste.
‘He can be in our group if we want him to. Do you want to
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join us?’ Sammo asked.
Jack Byrne
‘I don’t know. I don’t fancy walking through Speke,’ said Jaime.
‘I don’t blame you,’ said Vinny, trying to undo the word he used.
‘Hey what’s your problem?’ Jaime chided, looking directly
at Vinny.
‘I didn’t mean anything. It’s just a word, isn’t it?’ said Vinny,
aware of how stupid he sounded.
‘Well, you’re not English. We can see that,’ Macca said. Vinny
knew Macca was taking his side, but he didn’t want him to.
‘Of course, he’s English. He’s from Toxteth,’ Sammo said.
‘My dad’s from Gambia, and my mum’s Chinese, and I was
born in the women’s hospital on Myrtle Street,’ Jaime said.
‘Wow, that’s fucking amazing,’ said Sammo.
‘Being born in Myrtle Street?’ Macca asked.
‘No, China, and the other place.’
‘Gambia,’ said Jaime.
‘It’s not so special — all your family was from Ireland.’ Macca
gave Sammo a push.
‘Well, China’s a bit further than Ireland,’ said Sammo.
‘My dad’s a sailor,’ Jaime said.
‘Well, sailor boy. You’d better get on your way.’ Macca turned
to signal the discussion was over.
‘I vote he comes with us.’ Sammo looked at Vinny.
‘Yeah, me, too.’ Vinny half-smiled at Jaime.
Macca turned back. ‘This is not for voting. I’m the leader
here, and I say he’s not coming with us.’
‘Right then, I’m going to show him.’ Sammo walked towards
the lane.
‘Come on, Jaime. I’ll show you the way to go.’
Jaime moved after Sammo.
‘Stop, you can’t go. You’ve got the treasure.’
‘I’m going.’ Sammo turned.
Macca rushed forward and grabbed the back of Sammo’s shirt.
He spun him round. ‘Don’t make me do it.’ Macca formed a fist.
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Before the Storm
Vinny and Jaime stood back. Vinny didn’t want Sammo
to get hit. Sammo pulled his head away and tried to get free.
Macca punched him hard in the upper arm.
‘Ouch, fuck. That hurt,’ he complained.
‘I meant it to, now, do as you’re told.’ Macca pushed him in
the direction away from the lane. ‘Get going.’
‘What treasure?’ Jaime asked.
Sammo, head down and sulking, suddenly perked up.
‘This.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out the watch.
‘You bastard.’ Macca launched himself at Sammo, who
dodged to the side.
Although scared, Vinny moved forward to get between them,
his palms raised. ‘Let’s all calm down, eh?’
Macca reached around Vinny.
‘Yeah, why don’t you back off,’ Jaime said, supporting his new
friend Sammo.
Jamie moved forward. He and Vinny were now between
Macca and Sammo.
‘Yeah, back off,’ said Sammo, holding the watch high.
Macca was outnumbered and took a step back. He held his
hands up. ‘Okay, Jaime can come. He’s seen the treasure now,
anyway, hasn’t he?’
‘Really?’ Sammo asked.
‘Yeah, you can come if you want.’ Macca directed this at Jaime.
‘And when we get money for it, we’ll give him the bus fare,
right?’ Sammo looked at Macca expectantly.
Macca made a show of thinking about it. ‘Yeah, that’s okay.
Fuck them bizzies, eh?’
‘Might as well,’ said Jaime.
Everyone except Macca grinned.
‘Come on then, let’s get going.’ Macca tried to show he was
back in control and led them off along the path.
They followed the top of the embankment. The Mersey was
tidal, and it was coming in. The river had retreated to a silver
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Jack Byrne
stream in the centre of the mudflats, but now the water was
rushing back in from the Irish Sea.
‘We should go down to the triangles,’ said Sammo.
At the bottom of the hill, broken concrete slabs and large
concrete pyramidal structures covered the shore.
‘They are pyramids,’ Vinny said.
‘What? Like Egypt?’ asked Sammo.
‘No, just the shape.’
‘They look like dragon’s teeth, like an amazing fight took
place in the sky between good and evil. This is where the Welsh
dragon lost its teeth,’ said Vinny.
‘Wow, is that true?’ asked Sammo, who then clarified, ‘I mean,
I know it’s not true, but is it a legend?’
‘No, of course it’s not. We’re staying up here. What are they
really for?’ Macca asked.
‘Something to do with the war, to stop tanks,’ Vinny said.
‘Tanks coming up the river? That’s stupid,’ said Macca.
‘Well, maybe they come up on boats, then got off here?’
Sammo suggested.
Macca ignored him and carried on the path. The shoreline
ran to Garston Docks, a walk of about three miles. To their left
was the wide-open river basin with the Stanlow oil refinery
visible on the opposite shore.
They walked in single file. Macca was in front. Next came
Vinny, Sammo, and Jaime. The sun was warm, and the wind was
blowing lightly off the river. Seagulls screamed and squawked
overhead. The air was fresh and foul in turn with the scents of
the river, the direction of the wind, and fumes from the planes
at the airport… Continued in the novel Before The Storm