Pop Up – Bentley 28

[For back story go here: Story so far at 17 Sept 2020 and more recent episodes.]

[Relevant back story also in embedded links.]

The letter read: “I know where you live. I know you have a cat. Be Careful. J.”

It had been carefully folded and set behind the toaster, which Bentley knew was a bit of a risk, but he had a tendency to store things he didn’t like in dangerous places. Part of him thought the thing would go up in flames and he’d not have to see it again. That part of him clearly didn’t think the resulting fire would get out of hand or do any more damage.

He’d already put his travel hold-all on the bed and it was half packed. It wasn’t terribly well half packed because he was having trouble concentrating what with the news and the tiers and the restrictions and the problems he might have getting to York let alone getting into the buildings he thought he needed to get to in York. He would have ten minutes of resolve during which time he’d find his toothbrush and toothpaste and line them up, expectantly, next to his wash bag. And then the doubt and enormity of the task in hand would wash over him and stop him. There would be little, if any, help offered on the way, he’d have to fight for his right to sit in every seat, to find somewhere to stay and even walking out of his flat might be seen as an illegal act.

But Bentley felt compelled. There were things that could wait and things that couldn’t. If nothing else the pandemic had shown how time was limited, how the chance to do something – anything – could never be taken for granted because at the end of the day the unexpected could happen and take everything away. Right now, he had to act. Threats had been made and there was no reason for him to doubt that they wouldn’t be carried out. 

He put the toothbrush in the wash bag.

The phone rang and Covid the cat sprang to get there first, only to be thwarted by the fact that it was actually his owner who had the necessary opposable thumbs and who could understand what was being said. 

“You’re not seriously thinking of going, are you?” asked Natalie.

“Bad news travels fast,” commented Bentley. “What’s your story today?”

“I don’t have a story,” said Natalie. “I just want to help.”

“I need to go to York,” said Bentley. “Will you help?”

Bentley thought back to when Natalie had visited him. The thrill of meeting the person he thought was his granddaughter. Another link in the chain and the prose of life going forward. And then the worry that actually she was little more than another facet of Lawrence’s “I’ll be a cop, you be a cop,” subterfuge. Could she be trusted?

“You need to trust me when I say don’t go,” said Natalie.

“Threats have been made,” noted Bentley. “The wheels are set in motion.”

“He’s not worth it,” said Natalie.

“So I leave it and continue to get harassed? He’s sent me a letter. He’s sent load of letters. He knows about my cat.”

“Loads of people know about your cat.”

“That’s neither helpful nor reassuring,” said Bentley.

“If you must go let me take you,” said Natalie.

Bentley paused. “What’s in it for you?”

“Absolutely nothing,” she said. “I’m entirely doing this out of the good of my heart so I can help my grandfather. Help him do something he wants to do and hopefully do it in a way that doesn’t get him arrested. Or worse.”

“Worse?”

“You know something’s going on. You should either ignore it and it’ll go away or if you have to do something I’ll help. No agenda. The minute you think I might be up to something we part company.”

Bentley paused to consider. He’d been calling everyone’s bluff and gradually it seemed everyone was admitting that he was right. The police were not involved, George, Lawrence and Natalie were not operating on behalf of anyone apart from themselves. Somehow they were all got mixed up in everything, concocting strange tales and hoping that doing so would lead them to their goal. Defeating another gang, perhaps, getting on Aston’s nerves, whatever.

“Are you working with Lawrence?”

“I did what my dad asked me to do,” said Natalie. “Just for a week or so. I’m back at college now. Well, meant to be. As you’ll appreciate it’s kind of difficult to teach or even to make anything right now. I’ve got the time and I’ve got the wheels.”

“And you’re fit and healthy?” Asked Bentley.

“Yep,” said Natalie.

Bentley paused again.

“I may require proof,” he said.