Track Records (3) – Bentley 11

[For back story go here: Story so far at 12 June 2020]

“You can take me, there, right? I mean, how did you get here? Drive? Bus?”

“Train,” said Natalie, “and I’m not sure where you’re thinking of going. I thought you were looking for me.”

“I – I was,” said Bentley, looking worried and not a little confused by his own situation.

“So you’ve found me. Problem solved.”

“You found me,” corrected Bentley. “And there’s another problem.”

With Natalie on his concrete balcony, outside the sitting room, Covid slinking around at her feet and through the legs of the chair, Bentley shuffled himself from his respectful distance back through the house to where the box was hidden. He wasn’t certain that they were following all or any of the current/new rules for social distancing within his flat, but Natalie hadn’t taken her mask off and they hadn’t come closer than two metres since Bentley had emerged, relieved and not a little shocked, from the bushes behind the corner shop.

“So you came by train,” concluded Bentley, as he returned with the box. “Quarter past seven stopping service, that would figure for when you got here. Sticky signal outside the junction with the old branch line is why you weren’t entirely punctual.”

“We did stop for no reason at one point,” said Natalie.

“Always a reason,” snapped back Bentley. “They don’t just stop for the fun of it.”

“Even so, I could have been delayed by taxis, buses at this end…”

“You walked,” said Bentley with finality. 

“Yes,” said Natalie. “Yes I did, well done.”

“Stuff it,” said Bentley as he was about to plonk the box on the table in front of Natalie. “That’s too close right?”

He turned and dropped the box on the floor. He flipped open the flaps on the box’s top and pulled out a wad of fifty pound notes. 

“First there’s these,’” he said.

“OK…” said Natalie cautiously. “And they are..?”

“Money,” said Bentley. “Reckon twenty grand maybe. Give or take. Take mainly cos I paid for a taxi to the station the other day.”

“And you’re telling me because..?”

“How did your dad come by this?”

“You think he came by this?”

“I have my suspicions – and my sources.”

“I’m a bit puzzled,” said Natalie. “I came all this way to see my Granddad for the first time. Ever. I’m risking lockdown prosecution – well, maybe, who knows – and the chance of getting something nasty and what do I get? Some bizarre mysterious thing about my dad – or which may be about my dad. I mean, a ginger biscuit and a socially distanced cup of tea was really all I was hoping for.”

“How’s it all going for you then?” asked Bentley, entirely off hand and making no attempt to even sound like he might be interested in the answer. “I know about the course, your work and the person who’ll probably be getting you a job in a few week’s time.”

“Well,” said Natalie, “There goes all the fun out of that.”

“It’s not like Lawrence hasn’t got…”

“Hasn’t got what? Sure he’s stepped over the line occasionally and been taken in for it, but seriously, this amount? What would he have to do to get that?”

Bentley’s mind boggled, and Natalie watched it do so. “I know something happened between you two. I don’t know what it was and to be honest it’s not my business,” she said more gently, “but don’t you think you might be looking where you shouldn’t? That you’ve stirred up something you really should have left alone – should leave alone. Although maybe you want to send the shoes back and hang on to the money? I wouldn’t blame you if you did that, actually.”

“Where do I send it back to?” asked Bentley. “And I’m worried about him.”

“What kind of worried?” said Natalie. “For him, about him, or for him for your sake?”

“For yours. And your grandmother’s.”

“I’m fine,” said Natalie, “Doing very well, actually – but obviously you already know that.”

“You need to take me with you,” said Bentley. “To Bournemouth, Brighton, wherever he is so we can – so I can talk to him and find out what’s going on.”

“Not taking you there. You seen the crowds? Completely ridiculous. Would be dangerous enough without a highly transmittable disease knocking around, but seriously? And there’s no way you’re going to find him. Be like a needle in a haystack.”

“I can’t just sit here!” Said Bentley.

“I don’t think you have, though have you?” said Natalie. “Who ’s the guy with the van?”

“Oh, that’s George,” said Bentley. “He’s my driver. Sort of.”

“You have people working for you.”

“I have people who seem to want to take care of me, but are actually getting in the way. Please,” said Bentley with passion. “just take me there.”

“Is your journey really necessary?” asked Natalie.

“Was yours?” shot back Bentley.

“I’m beginning to think not,” said Natalie.

With a dramatic flourish, Bentley produced the pair of size ten black shoes from the box.

“What size feet has your dad got?” he asked, bad cop style.

“The same size feet as your son,” replied Natalie with a twist of her mouth.