Jack Byrne

by Jack Byrne

Below is a draft opening of a novel. I’m happy to hear your thoughts, if you would like to read more and are willing to give me notes on it get in touch.

Chapter 1

March 2021

Mina

Mina Haidar came to the Pier Head often, but today was different. A woman bumped into her and waved a sign. ‘No vaccine for The China Virus’.

People came from all directions, voices grew, chants and shouts fought against the wind. Something was happening.

The cries of ‘No masks, no tyranny’ multiplied, and a second woman waved a handwritten sign in her face: ‘Vaccine = poison.’

What the hell? Mina was startled, turned away from the choppy grey river and saw Jaime.

Jaime Jaware stared at the rose sinking into the swirling waters of the River Mersey. A gull swooped down to check it out, pulling up before it hit the surface, its cries of disappointment drifting with the wind.

“What are you doing, mate?”

Jaime turned in surprise, his moment of reflection broken.

The man facing him held a megaphone and a sign that screamed, ‘Don’t mask me!’ “We’re meeting here, you’d better move.”

Jaime turned back to the water.

“Did you hear me? We’re meeting here. Move on, especially with that mask on your face.”

Jaime looked over his shoulder. Two others joined the unmasked man, and more protesters were arriving by the second.

He stepped down from the Sailor’s monument and moved a couple of yards further along.

Mina shouted. “Jaime?”

The big, broad smile matched his frame.

“Are you with this lot?” he asked.

Her eyes widened. “No.” Mina smiled. “What are you doing here?”

They were yards from a war memorial to sailors. The raised semicircle platform of white stone had the names of Liverpool seamen from WW2 carved into the circular wall. Six steps led up to an obelisk, and this platform was now taken over by shouting protesters.

Further along the Pier Head, a black marble plaque with gold characters marked the expulsion of Chinese Seamen from Liverpool following the Second World War.

The crowd swarmed in from town. With hand-made signs, they streamed along the pavements down James Street, across the open expanse in front of the Liver Building, heading toward the monument.

The man at the centre of activities was solid, square-jawed, with close-cropped dark hair. He raised a megaphone and pumped the air with his fist as he chanted, “No mask, No vaccine, No medical slavery.”

A couple of voices tried to join in, but the words and rhythm didn’t gel, and his voice was left on its own to compete with the seagulls circling in growing numbers.

Jaime turned away. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Yeah, good idea.”

Mina followed Jaime as he cleared a path through the growing crowd.

Uniformed police walked along with the protesters. Mina noticed police vans with darkened windows parked along the side of the Museum of Liverpool a hundred yards away. Officers in protective gear and shields stood ready.

A busy six-lane road separated the Pier Head from The Goree, named after an island off Senegal where slaves were loaded onto Liverpool ships.

They crossed at the lights near James St Station and walked up the incline.

“Is anywhere open?”

“I’m meeting Charlie outside All Bar One. You can drink outside now.”

“Right, come on then. Jaime used his big frame to push against the tide of protesters moving down the hill.

Someone shouted, “Sheeple. Take your mask off.”

“Piss off.” Jaime was having none of it.

The young woman shouted, turned, and pointed her sign at him. “You’re a clone.”

“Better than a clown.” Jaime raised his hand, pointing to the Pier Head. “Go on, do one.”

The woman scowled before raising her index finger. The action seemed at odds with her dark-fitted jacket and trousers, and with a toss of her blonde ponytail, she was gone.

“Jaime!” Mina shouted.

Behind him, another protester swung the stick holding his sign toward Jaime. Jaime ducked in time, and the sign missed him by inches. He reacted quickly, pulling the guy forward. The missed swing, his momentum, and Jaime’s pull sent the guy sprawling across the pavement, face down.

“Come on.” Mina grabbed Jaime’s arm.

Together, they pushed their way through pedestrians coming down the hill.

Mina stopped. “Terry?”

A young guy in his mid-twenties turned toward them.

“Hey Mina, you coming down the Pier Head?”

“No, we’re going the other way.”

Terry gave her a quizzical look. “Whatever.”

Mina and Jaime continued up the hill.

“Jesus Christ.” Jaime turned right into Derby Square.

Mina agreed. “Crazy.”

“Crazy times, indeed.”

Mina scanned the tables. Charlie wasn’t there, but there was an empty table. Jaime checked behind him to make sure no one followed them. The pub doors were full of signs about what was and wasn’t allowed. The four tables outside were busy; drinkers defied the weather and the virus.

“Come on.” Jaime led Mina to the empty table.

“I’ll get the drinks in. What’ll you have?”

“An orange for me, but I think it’s all waiter service now. You can’t go to the bar.” Mina waved at a waitress.

The main body of protesters had passed except for a few stragglers.Jaime ordered from the waitress.

“I’ve got no idea what’s allowed and what isn’t.”

“I know the feeling. I have to keep up with it because my mum’s vulnerable.”

“Yeah, how is she?”

“Good overall, going crazy like most of us,” Mina replied.

The waitress arrived with drinks, and Jaime paid.

Mina raised her glass. “That was close down there.” She nodded toward the Pier Head.

“That was weird.” Jaime took a drink.

Mina watched Charlie Connolly approach from across the square. She recognised his gait and how his hair curled, trying to escape his head. She waved.

Charlie raised a hand in return.

“What’s going on?” Charlie sat next to Mina.

“You know Charlie,” Mina said.

Jaime offered his open hand. “Of course.”

Charlie offered his fist. Jaime closed his hand and bumped. Jaime nodded.

“So what’s up?” Charlie looked at the people moving toward the Pier Head.

“Some kind of anti-mask, anti-vax thing. Your mate Terry was there.”

Mina turned toward Jaime. “What were you doing down there anyway?”

“Oh, a long story. Don’t worry about it.”

Charlie raised his eyebrows. “What was Terry doing with them?”

Mina ignored the question and turned to Jaime. “You can give us the short version.”

“It was something my mum used to do every year.”

“What?” asked Mina.

Jaime sighed. “She started this tradition of marking his birthday with a rose in the river. She used to say, ‘he came from the river and went back to the river. Her dad was deported, sent back to China.’”

“Jaime produced a photograph from his wallet. A tall, slim Chinese man in a suit and tie, looking very dapper, stood next to a slim young European woman. A country garden was the painted backdrop in a photographer’s studio. “My grandparents.”

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” said Charlie

“I guess so.” Jaime took a drink. ”Anyway, it was all a long time ago.”

Mina put her glass on the table. “Why was he deported?”

Jaime reflected. “He was a seaman. Hundreds of Chinese were deported after the War.”

“That must have been hard for your mum?”

“It was.” He paused. “A shadow over her life, all of us.”

“That’s awful.” Instinctively, Mina reached across the table and put her hand on Jaime’s.

Jaime nodded. “Thanks.” He moved his hand back slightly.

“Do you know what happened?” Charlie asked.

“Not really. Most of the men just disappeared. Then word got round they were being deported. It went on for a couple of months.”

“It was your grandfather.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Her dad was a sailor, settled in Liverpool, and married my grandmother, who worked at the pub The Cask in town. It’s still there. Owned by some big property developer now Spirit of the City or something.”

Charlie responded, “I’ve heard about them, City Spirit? They’re behind some project in the Baltic Triangle?”

Mina nodded. “They’re always on the news.”

Jaime cut in, “The pub was a social club for the Chinese sailors, that’s what my mum told me; the street was full of boarding houses, between ships, the men could be found in there. Anyway, my grandmother, an Irish woman, was a bar maid. After the war, it went to a new landlady, Eileen Jones, ‘The queen of Chinatown’ the papers called her.” Jaime took a long drink.

“And what happened to your grandfather?” Mina asked.

“No idea, no one ever heard of him again.”

“Jesus.” Charlie shook his head. “Did you try to find him?”

Jaime nodded. “Yeah, kind of, but it didn’t lead anywhere.”

Mina followed up. “Why not?”

“Jeez, you are pushy, aren’t you?”

Mina smiled. “I thought you knew that?”

Jaime smiled at Mina. “You’re too honest for your own good.”

“No filter,” said Charlie in explanation.

Mina shrugged. “I don’t understand. If you’ve got something to say, you should say it.”

“No, seriously, you’re right. I did start to look, but something happened as a kid that put me off. I never really got over it.” He drained his pint.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No, you haven’t.” Jaime put his empty glass on the table. “That was good. But I should be going.” He stood. “Nice seeing you again, Charlie. Say hello to your old man for me.”

“Will do.”

“I guess I’ll see you at work?” Jaime asked Mina.

“Not anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was temporary.”

“Oh, shit, sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“No, but I hope you find something.”

“Thanks.”

Jaime pulled his hood up against the swirling wind.

“He’s a nice guy.” Charlie motioned toward Jaime, who passed the Queen Victoria monument that dominated the square.

It was an impressive domed structure with four groups of figures around the pedestal. On top of the groups were four single figures representing justice, wisdom, charity, and peace..

Charlie smiled.

Mina cocked an eyebrow.

Charlie explained, “Oh, just a memory on the top deck of the 86 bus. Local kids knew that from a certain angle upstairs on the bus, Victoria’s mace protruded from the statue like a huge penis. It was an image I never lost.”

Mina winced. “Well thanks for sharing.”

“You know he helped my mum out?” said Mina.

“Who?”

“Who do you think? Jaime.”

“Oh, right, I was just thinking about Terry.”

“Terry?”

“Yeah. Sorry, what were you going to say?”

“Oh, years ago, we were in a private rented room, and my mum was getting hassled by a dodgy landlord. He helped us get a housing association place.” Mina paused, then added, We should do it.”

“Do what?”

“Find out what happened to his grandfather?”

“Why? How?”

“Cos I owe him, and you’re the ‘Red Detective.’ You’ve got to make it mean something, not just your name on the door. It’s a chance to right a wrong. We can show him that times have changed, we’ve changed.”

“Have we though?” Charlie left the question hanging in the air. “Anyway, I wonder what Terry was doing?”

“When did you see him last?” asked Mina.

“Ages ago, with the lockdown and stuff, I haven’t seen anyone.”

Mina returned to the former subject.

“Jaime’s grandad must be dead by now,” said Charlie.

“Yeah, I know that. I mean, we should find out what happened to him.”

“How? If Jaime doesn’t know, how are we going to find out?”

“The world’s different now. We’ve got the internet and smartphones. It’s much easier to find stuff.”

“I don’t know.” Charlie didn’t sound convinced.

“Look at all those people out there shouting about conspiracies and secrets.”

“Yeah, and?”

“Well, there’s one right here in front of us. Liverpool shipped hundreds of Chinese Sailors out of the city without warning, leaving kids without fathers and wives without husbands. What happened to those men? And what about the families left behind with no breadwinner and no income? Hundreds of men. How many kids does that mean? Hundreds, thousands?” Mina drained her drink.

“Is this ‘cos you’ve lost your job?” Charlie asked.

“No, I don’t think so. But the question is why? Why would they do that?”

Charlie lifted his drink. “Something tells me we are about to find out.” He smiled and then took a swig of lager.

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