Free Against the Tide by John Hanley

couldn’t leave him like this. I wanted to put my arm around him.
    I got up but stopped as I heard Malita’s feet padding on the stairs. He looked up and listened. He waited until the door creaked open, got up and walked over to her, put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her on the cheek. He led her to the chair, sat down beside her and whispered in Spanish. She nodded then they both looked at me. We sat listening to the music until it died away and the needle started clicking.
    Malita left to attend to it and Fred leaned towards me again. ‘What is your greatest fear, Jack?’
    I hesitated. I was sure it wasn’t drowning that terrified me. I saw it. ‘I think I’m frightened of losing control, of showing fear itself. Does that make sense?’
    He nodded. ‘It’s a good question to ask people, though don’t expect an honest answer. Not many have experienced real fear.’
    â€˜What of you, Uncle?’
    He looked across at Malita, who had returned and was now brewing another pot of tea. ‘That particular reservoir is empty. There’s a limit in each of us. I exceeded mine years ago. I’m still full of other emotions though; especially hate for Hitler and all his beliefs. You read his book but understand that, evil as he is, he is just a servant.’
    No wonder I couldn’t beat him at chess. He was full of surprises. My puzzled expression must have been sufficient.
    â€˜Oh, yes. He’s the Pope’s general.’
    â€˜Uncle, that’s crazy. You don’t mean that.’
    â€˜He mean it, Yak. He think Hitler will destroy all Communist for Pope. He think Catholic big enemy of the people.’
    She shrugged, in that peculiar way of hers – why argue with someone who won’t listen? She shoved the teapot at him. ‘Here, you drink. Keep quiet.’ She looked at the clock above the dresser. ‘Is time Yak go.’
    â€˜But I haven’t told him about England or Spain yet.’
    â€˜Good. You save for another day. Yak think you mad old man.’ She waved her hand at me then touched her finger to her lips. ‘You drink tea. Then you go home.’
    We supped in silence.
    After she had cleared away, Malita decided that it was too late for me to catch the bus from Snow Hill and suggested that Fred take me back on his motorcycle. I’d helped Fred rebuild the bike and knew how special it was to him, but felt brave enough to suggest that I might be allowed to borrow it to ride myself home.
    â€˜Bugger me, you cheeky sod. Borrow my bike? I suppose you want my hat as well. Here, take my shoes and socks if you want –’
    Malita grabbed his arm and laughed. ‘Yak, tiene cojones; he help mend this beast. Why no let him ride her?’
    â€˜Ride her? Ride Boadicea ? She’ll buck him off and leave him bleeding in the gutter. He’s too young to handle a machine like that.’
    â€˜Stupid man. It is you she buck off. You scared he ride her better. Yak is man now and he has cojones as big as yours.’ She moved towards Fred, her hand stretched out in a claw. ‘Perhaps bigger.’
    He edged away, keeping the kitchen table between them. ‘Right, but remember the history of this bike.’ He sounded very concerned.
    â€˜Yak, he is stupid. He believe silly story when he buy this bike of bits. Is nothing wrong with bike – just man who ride it.’
    Though I’d longed to, I’d never asked to ride Boadicea before and was somewhat deflated by uncle’s dismissive response.
    â€˜It’s okay, Malita, Uncle is right. It’s better if I don’t. I’ll walk.’
    Fred dodged round the table, clasped my shoulders and pulled me towards the door. ‘Why do I listen to her? You wouldn’t ask unless you were sure, would you?’
    â€˜No, I wouldn’t. I know every bit of her, from her Norton box, through her Castle forks, to her JAP heart. I’ve polished