Description – Bit Part 4 – Bentley 65

 

[For a quick guide go here: Quick guide.]

[Old back story is here: Story so far at 30 Nov 2020 and read more recent Bentley episodes especially this one.]

[Other back story through in-links.]

[If you're enjoying this you can now buy me coffee here!]

Flint was in a good mood. Indeed, he suspected there were few people in England who weren’t cheered a little by last night’s football match. Even if you didn’t usually follow the match the idea of reaching a major international final was…. There again there were people who just tell you it was a game. And there were people who wouldn’t have a clue what you were on about and just complain as you walked down the street singing… Maybe he shouldn’t have walked down the street singing. Even if the complaints were short lived.

Sighing, he closed the doors on his munitions cupboard and made himself a nice cup of Lapsang Souchong tea. Flint had found being a ‘heavy’ to be a varied job over the past three years. Different tasks were set for you, some easy, some hard, some legal and some… not so. But whatever happened you generally needed two things. A nice cup of tea to settle you (or to get you going) and access to a wide range of tools.

Flint now had both and consequently his skills, aptitude and toolset were experiencing high demand. He could have expected lockdown to put pay to his chosen career, but in fact this did not seem to be the case. Instead people were grateful to him for his ability to get out there and do the things they didn’t want to do, or weren’t able to do, or just couldn’t be bothered with. There was an art to persuasion, an art to making certain things happen and Flint knew he had a natural talent for it and was determined to build on that.

Of course, communication was key to a job like this. You needed to be careful, clear and direct. There was no point in going in there all guns blazing – figuratively or literally – if no one knew who you were or what you wanted. Sometimes you needed that element of surprise – abductions, requests for late payment, the delivery of messages from someone who wished not to be named – but then the message was in the action. Deeds spoke louder than words, and some deeds there weren’t words for. Or at least not any good ones.

Then there were his tools. A few hardware items, hammers, screwdrivers, a particularly sharp set-square, heavy weights. Some for practical work - removals of locks and so on, some for more threatening activities, and then of course there were those which fitted both purposes. There were also maps covering the entirety of the UK and a near complete set of city A-Zs. Flint was thorough. His website suggested anywhere anytime and he wanted to make sure he always could be.

He’d enjoyed speaking with his nephew yesterday. Gordon and his family were good to stay connected to, they rooted him in the reality outside. He had a charming little daughter, a great partner - even if they were going through a rough patch at the moment - and at the end of the day, Flint would do anything for them. Although they probably wouldn’t ask him to do anything he could actually do for them. He doubted they’d need his full services.

Flint was happy to be a good friend. His god-daughter, for example. She’d wanted to start an online business but discovered someone else was already working out how to make a similar business work. Of course it was impossible to have a word with every company who wanted a slice of the online action, but when it came too close to home of course he wasn’t going to just stand there and let it happen. She was important to him and at a relatively early point in his career he could use the project as part of his ongoing experience. Naturally he wasn’t compiling a CV but he did need to make a name for himself.

So he ventured down to the south of England where a strange bloke and he computer-geek of a mate were putting together some kind of dating app which his god-daughter wasn’t keen to go up against. A few friendly words of advice and hey presto, problem solved. 

That was the beauty of having a munitions cupboard. You didn’t always need to use it. Actually it was rare you did, but people needed to know it was there ready. Your customers expected it and would no doubt demand photos if they thought you were the type of person who’d do that. But in general the threat was enough. Describing it was always going to be enough.

That was it, thought Flint. Communication and description. Way more powerful than anything in the cupboard.

And so he drank his tea and sent a friendly e-mail off to his god-daughter. And it was a very friendly e-mail - just to check she was doing OK.