Free Deadfolk by Charlie Williams Page A

I sometimes found to work at times like this un.
    ‘Could be…’ says he, rubbing muddy paws together.
    I were looking at the heap of soil across the way, not ten yards from where we was stood. One of Baz Munton’s clumping boots were sticking up clean out of the earth, announcing quite clear to the world that he were lying there, dead. ‘Oh aye?’
    ‘Aye. It could be that you means me muther.’
    I slapped meself hard across the cheek and says: ‘Thass for me bein’ so blinkin’ thick. Course I means yer mother.’
    ‘So woss happened to her?’ he says. I were starting to think it were normal for his gob to be hanging open like that.
    ‘Run over. She got run over. You gotta go to her.’
    ‘Who let her out?’
    ‘Eh?’
    ‘Ain’t got legs, has she. Who had her out in the road?’
    ‘Well, she were in a wheelchair, weren’t she. Out in the street.’
    ‘Lord almighty,’ he says, rubbing his pate. ‘Who done it? Who gone an’ ran over me muther?’
    ‘It were…well, iss a bit hard to talk about. I were a passer-by, like, just bypassin’ and mindin’ me own an’ that. I…oh hell…’ I says, all quivery and rubbing me eyes.
    ‘You’re all right, mate. Go on an’ tell us.’
    ‘Well, there was so many coppers and ambulances, you see. You ain’t seen the like of it before. I ain’t anyhow. Thass why I comes to tell you, ennit. All the coppers and that was all busy sweepin’ up the road and lookin’ after hurt folks.’
    ‘Who were it? Who ran her over?’
    ‘Sure you wants to know?’
    ‘Aye.’
    ‘All right. Well it were a bus, big red double-decker. Just ran out, didn’t she. In her chair, like. Driver had no chance. Passed away instantly, she did, by all accounts.’
    ‘A buzz?’
    ‘Aye. A bus.’
    ‘Flamin’ heck.’ He dropped the barrow and hared off homeward.
    Alone as I now were, I got to work. I hauled Baz up into the barrow along with plenty of loose grave dirt. Then I wheeled him over to the Capri and lugged him, after much grunting and sweating on my part, into the boot. I put everything back as it had been, checking that no item had fallen from Baz as I’d tossed and lugged him about. I even had presence of mind to turn over the bits of bloodstained gravel with me boot, where I’d given Baz his final hiding.
    I drove out of Norbert Green, thinking how I might just be all right if I hit the right buttons and scored a few nudges. Aye, long as I took care of Baz’s body all right. And long as no bastard knew I’d gone after him.
    I slammed on me brakes.
    The heavy object in the boot near came through onto the back seat. What were I thinking of?
    I set off again, heading for the Paul Pry.

     
    A few cars was parked out back when I pulled up. It sank my heart to see em, but nothing were to be done about that. I got out.
    I called in at the bog first. I looked in the mirror and didn’t recognise the feller in it. My hands, face, and hair was covered in dirt and blood. But after the shock wore off I reckoned it weren’t so bad after all. Clothes was mostly all right, which were the main thing. It took us fairly five minutes to get all the shite off my hands and clean up my head, but needs must. When the dirt were off my face, the cut above my eyebrow from Baz’s sovereign didn’t look so bad. I felt the back of my head. It were starting ache like shite, but I couldn’t find no major bumps nor cuts, which were a bonus. A couple of fellers came in for a piss during that time. ‘All right, Blake,’ they each says on seeing us.
    ‘All right, mate,’ I says back, not even looking.
    When I got to the bar I called Nathan the barman aside.
    ‘All right, Blake,’ he says.
    ‘All right, Nathan.’
    ‘You’ll be wantin’ this now, I reckon,’ he says, getting the glass he’d put by earlier.
    ‘Oh…aye.’
    He were looking at my head as he filled her. ‘I hopes he came off worser’n you, mind.’
    ‘Aye, well. You know what I were sayin’ before?’ I says, low