Sure Fire. Justin Richards

       5

      The evening had drawn in and it was getting dark. There was a light drizzle, enough to permeate through Jade’s coat and make the air feel colder than it was.

      “There he is, look,” Rich said, pointing to the dark silhouette of a figure passing under a streetlight further down the road. They hurried after Chance, keeping to the shadows in case he looked back.

      He did not look back, and Jade could not believe he knew they were following him. But even so, Chance suddenly darted into an alleyway. If she had blinked, Jade would have missed it – it would have seemed like he had simply disappeared into thin air.

      They approached the end of the alley hesitantly, in case Chance was standing waiting for them. Jade wasn’t frightened of him, but she didn’t fancy another argument. For all her bravado she didn’t like falling out with anyone – even when they were wrong. Like he was.

      Rich looked at her, and Jade nodded. “Let’s do it,” she said quietly.

      Together, they stepped into the end of the alley and looked along it.

      Nothing.

      The alley was empty.

      Chance was gone.

      They sprinted along the alley and found it turned a sharp corner and then came out in a busy street. A bus sprayed water up at them as it went through a shallow puddle. People walked past quickly, huddled into their coats as the rain got heavier. Cars and taxis splashed after the bus.

      There was no sign of John Chance.

      “It’s like he knew we were following him,” Rich complained.

      “How could he, though?” Jade said.

      “Maybe he just thought someone might follow him,” Rich said. “Not us, but someone else. I don’t know. We need to find a bookshop.”

      Jade stared at him. “We need to find Dad.”

      “So he’s ‘Dad’ now, is he?” Rich seemed amused.

      “What else should I call him? And what good will a bookshop be? Or do you just want to get something to read?”

      As they walked along the street, a woman stepped out of the shadows. She was careful to keep well back, though neither of the children had noticed she had been following them since they left the flat.

      There was a bookshop further down the same road. It was a small branch of a big chain, and it had what Rich wanted – an A to Z of London.

      “Gonna look him up in the index?” Jade suggested. “John Chance is here with a big arrow, maybe?”

      For reply, Rich pointed to part of one of the maps. “That’s where we are now, right? Just there.”

      “So?”

      Rich moved his finger across to the facing page. “This is Totters Lane.”

      “Of course. Where the scrapyard is. How much is the book?”

      Rich closed it and put it back on the shelf. “Dunno,” he said. “But I can remember the way from the map. Come on, we’ve got fifteen minutes before his meeting.”

      The moment they were out of the shop, the woman who had been standing on the other side of the bookcase, listening carefully, took a mobile phone from her small handbag. She pushed aside her long, straight black hair as she made the call.

      “Totters Lane,” she said, as soon as the call was answered. “The scrapyard. He’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

      Chance paused to have a cigarette. He was surprised to find the packet was full.

      He stared at the tightly-packed ends of the cigarettes and frowned. He had not finished the packet, and his lighter had been inside. His mind raced through the possibilities. He checked his watch, and decided it was too late to get back to the flat and have it out with Jade and Rich. He had to be at the scrapyard in less than ten minutes. He’d decide what to do then.

      In the mean time, he had a box of matches in his pocket. He could at least have a smoke.

      * * *

      Ten minutes later, out of breath, Rich and Jade arrived at the scrapyard. Huge, heavy metal double gates were standing slightly open at the end of the lane. Jade eased through first, followed by Rich.

      There were no lights inside the yard. The high gates and walls kept out most of the light from the streets outside. They found themselves in a world of shadows and silhouettes. There was an open area immediately inside the gates, where lorries and cars could drive in. After that the place was a jungle of discarded debris. Cars were piled on top of each other, crushed down under the weight from above. Prams and old shopping trolleys, iron bedsteads and old bicycles lay in heaps. Pages of damp newspaper blew like tumbleweed through the landscape.