Racing Home

Franks solicitor looked at my hands. "Why isn't he handcuffed to the chair," he protested.

Sargent Wright stared at me disappointedly. He pulled a pair of handcuffs out of his vest pocket. He wrapped one end on his wrist and the other on my wrist. "Are we all happy now, gentlemen?" Sargent Wright said.

"My client will drop the charges if you move out of the house. Rent a flat or maybe a room. If they have you, perhaps you can stay with your friend," the solicitor demanded.

Sargent Wright gave the solicitor a look of daggers. He responded, "Any more suggestions?"

The solicitor said nothing.

I stared at the solicitor, then at Frank. Frank was busy looking at the tabletop in front of him. I looked back at the solicitor. "Ok," I said.

Frank's head snapped upwards. The end of his lips curled up. His solicitor searched for the paperwork in his briefcase for me to sign.

"That is under one condition!" I said.

They both glanced towards me; they waited to see what my demands were.

Staring at Frank, I said each word slowly, "You touch my mother again...." Sargent Wright grabbed my wrist and squeezed it.

The solicitor pushed the papers towards me to sign from a distance. With the signature he wanted, they both got up and left the room. The officer who was standing by the door followed them.

Sargent Wright took off the handcuffs. "Michael, I promise you. I will keep an eye out for your mother. I will arrange for you to collect your belongings tomorrow morning. You will have to stay another night here."

"Tomorrow's another day, another life," I said.

Chapter 4

I woke up the following morning with a stiff neck, and every bone in my body was aching. After some stretching and other morning exercises, I felt much better. That's when I realised why the beds have a one-inch mattress, or should I say the slab of metal. It's to make criminals think twice about committing a crime again.

Once I washed up and had a strong cup of coffee and some breakfast, I was ready to go. Officer Smith came to my cell to escort me upstairs to the Sargent Wrights office. By ten o'clock, I was sitting opposite the Sargent. He was sitting behind the desk, tapping away at the keyboard. At first, I didn't recognise him. He wasn't in uniform; He wore a polo shirt and a pair of jeans. The outfit made him look ten years younger.

I coughed to get his attention.

He carried on typing, his eyes focused on the monitor. "Don't worry, I know you are there, Michael," he said. When he finished, he clapped his hands and rubbed them together. "Now that I've finished your report, we can go."

His office overlooked the station's small public car park. I was hoping to see my mother's Mini Copper parked in one of the spaces. "Sargent Wright, I was expecting my mother. I thought she would come to pick me up."

"I spoke to your mother last night. I told her that I would give you a lift home so that you can get your things." He walked up to me and put his hand on my shoulder. "I also made it clear to Frank not to be there until late in the evening so that you can spend some time with your mother."

"You're off duty. Why are you doing this for me?" I asked.

"Don't ask too many questions. Let's say you remind me of someone close to me." He looked at me for a moment before speaking again. "Come on, son. Let's go."

I sat in silence on the drive home, my home until the end of the day. I leaned my head on the window. My eyes focused on the buildings as we went past them. The streets I had walked, most of my teen life. Will I ever see these roads again?

Sargent Wright broke the silence. "Do you have any idea where you're going to go, Michael?"

Without moving my head of the window, I shrugged my shoulders.

He didn't say anything else until he parked the car outside my house. "Someone has come to see you before you go."

It was Nick. He was leaning on the front wing of the Beamer. I didn't get a chance to climb out of the car; Nick rushed towards me. Mom did the same. She must have been looking out of the window to see when I would arrive. Nick stepped aside, letting mum approach me first. Mom fell into my embrace. She continuously apologised for what had happened. I held her as she cried on my shoulder for a few minutes. Once she calmed down and let me go. I greeted Nick with an embrace too.

Putting his arm over my shoulder, Nick said, "Mike, you can stay around my house as long as you like. I've spoken to my parents, and you are welcome to stay in the spare room."

I could tell he said it from his heart. My eyes became moist. I shook my head slowly. "How much I would love to stay, I can't. I need to get out of London for some time."

We all walked to the house. I held mom by the hand as we entered the house. By the staircase sat a brand new duffel bag, stretching at the seams. I stared at it for a moment. I guess all my clothes were in there.

Mom started crying again. "I should have let you pack your clothes. I'm sorry, Michael."

I put my finger on her lip. "Stop it! It's not your fault. You are not to blame for any of this. I don't know how long it will be until I see you again. I don't want any more crying today." I looked towards the kitchen while I inhaled the aroma. "What is that lovely smell coming from the kitchen? What are you cooking, mum?"

A smile appeared on her face.

Nick stayed until midday. He was sorry that our plans didn't work out as we expected. I told him that I would keep in touch with him to keep me updated with his progress with the car and university. He was surprised when I told him that I would be skipping a year or two from my studies. Mum was shocked when I mentioned that I would take a break from university, but I reassured her that I would continue my studies shortly.

Nick got ready to go, as he needed to help his father with some DIY at home. We embraced each other tightly before he made his way to his car.

As Nick got into the car, I called out, "Look after the Beamer!"

With a smile on his face, he shouted, "You mean our Beamer!" He started the engine. It fired up with a roar. I watched our BMW disappear down the road, the sound of the engine fading away.

"I will be back at six this evening to take you to Tottenham Hale Station," Sargent Wright said. With the keys in his hands, he began to make his way to his car.

Mum and I spent the rest of the day together. She cooked roast beef, which we enjoyed together. I was doing most of the eating while she sat there and stared at me. After the meal, we enjoyed a hot beverage. Mum with her peppermint tea while I had a coffee. Before leaving, I wanted to shower and check my room to see if there was anything else I wanted to take with me. Mum was with me all the time. She sat at the edge of the bed. She watched me as I stuffed the last of my items in my backpack.

Her eyes watered up again. "Look at you all grown up. You are the spitting image of your father," she said. She began to cry.

Embracing her, I stroked the back of her head. "Don't worry. Before you know it, I will be back, and everything will be ok.

Once I finished packing, I jumped in the shower while mum went downstairs to prepare a sandwich for me to take with me. When I went downstairs into the kitchen, Sargent Wright was sitting at the table with a hot beverage in front of him. A quick glimpse at the wall clock showed five minutes after six.

"You ready to go, Michael," Sargent Wright said.

Mum wrapped her arms around my waist. She broke down in tears again as she kissed me on the forehead. Sargent Wright left the room. He grabbed my duffel bag and backpack, which was sitting on the edge of the stairs. He made his way outside to put the items in the car, giving mum and me the extra few minutes of privacy.

Peeling her hand off me, I said, "If there is anything, do not hesitate to call me?" I noted with concern in my voice.

With shaking hands, she unclipped the chain with her crucifix, which was around her neck. With a tremble in her voice, she said, "Jesus will be with you wherever you go." With her hands stretched out, she clipped the chain around my neck. She then reached out and took the crucifix in her palm, kissing it. "Look out for my boy, lord," she whispered.

I gave her a kiss on the cheek and another embrace before I made my way to the car.

The drive to Tottenham Hale Station took a half-hour. Sargent Wright drove in silence. His eyes focused on the road while he listened to the latest updates on LBC. He would mumble to himself every few minutes about the comments that the callers made. I watched the buildings as we drove past them. I had a mixture of emotions. 'What will I do?' I said to myself. Arriving at our destination, Sargent Wright parked the vehicle in the shopping plaza's car park. It was a one minute walk to Tottenham Hale Station. You could see it in the distance. Commuters were entering and exiting the National Rail and Underground Station.

"It's the busiest time of the day. It's rush hour," Sargent Wright said.

I didn't say anything. I had my hand on the door handle, ready to open it.

I could see from the side of my eye. He was looking at me. "What's your plan, son," he said.

I shrugged my shoulders, thinking to myself that Nick was right. I could have stayed with his family until I finished university.

Sargent Wright shook his head. It was like he read my mind. "The offer your friend made you was a good one." He took a deep breath. "Maybe this is for the best. Time will show," he said, holding the steering wheel with both his hands.

"Thank you for everything, Sargent Wright." I opened the door to get out of the car.

"Wait a minute." grabbing my shoulder, he pushed me back on the seat. Retrieving an envelope from the glove compartment, he put it in my hand. "This is something until you get sorted out. It's £400. It's from your mother."

Opening the envelope, I pulled out a bunch of £20 notes. On top of the money, a blue post-it stuck on the top. It had an address written on it. Plus a single train ticket from Tottenham Hale to Birmingham New Street.

"Who is Tim Wright?" I asked.

"He's my brother. He lives in Birmingham." He paused for a moment. "I called him last night. He has a cafe. He can do with some help, running it. He lives with his family above the shop. They've set up a spare room for you. He'll be waiting for you at Birmingham Station at ten tonight."

"Why are you helping me?" I asked for the second time.

He smiled at me. "Get out of here, and don't forget your bags." I gave him a firm handshake before I got out of the car. Before closing the door, he shouted. "Stay out of trouble."

After getting directions for the train to Birmingham, I took the Victoria line to Euston Station. From there, I boarded the National Rail train that will be taking me to my new life.

Chapter 5

It was nine-thirty in the evening when the train pulled into Birmingham New Street Station. I made my way to the station's upper level, searching for the exit to the car park or drop-off zone. Once upstairs, I froze. I was speechless, lost for words. I dropped my bags to my side as I gazed around at the interior of the station. The architecture of the building was overwhelming. It took me a few minutes to absorb the station's beautiful architecture before I began to search for the exit. I walked around, finding the exit door for the bus station, another entrance to the taxi office, a row of taxi's waiting for potential customers. Once the drivers detected me, they called out if I needed a cab. I walked back into the station with a quick turn, wondering where the stations' pick-up or car park was. As I approached the ticket office, I asked one of the station attendants if the station had a pick-up point.

With a smile, the young lady attendant directed me to the drop-off area. "That's the drop-off. I guess you can use it to pick someone up as well," she said with a welcoming smile.

There was a loud crashing sound which made both of us jump. We both turned, focused towards the direction of the noise. A middle-aged man was cursing and bashing the palm of his hand on one of the ticket machines. "Sir, sir, let me help you with that!" the attendant yelled, rushing off towards him. I shook my head as I watched her trying to explain to the man how to use the machine.

I made my way to the drop-off area, which was a two-lane, one-way road. The traffic flowed on the road's outer side, while cars stopped to pick up passengers on the inner side. It was busy, and it made me wonder how Sargent Wright's brother would recognise me. During the day, they would probably drop off the same passengers to go to work, then pick them up in the evening. Spotting an empty bench, I dropped my duffel bag and rucksack on it, releasing some of the weight from my shoulders. I watched the vehicles drive past, hoping to see Sargent Wright's resemblance on any of the drivers' faces.

Suddenly, the cars stopped moving on the outer lane. I heard a male voice shout, "Michael!" It was a bald man in a red Ford transit van. It didn't take long for the other drivers to start beeping him.

"Over here!" I yelled.

I grabbed my bags and rushed to the nearest empty parking area ahead. The red transit van pulled into the free space in front of me. Within seconds the bald driver jumped out of it and came around to the passenger side, sliding the side door open. He was a short man, much smaller than Sargent Wright.

"Hi, Michael. I'm Tim Wright," he said with a smile. He stretched out his hand for a handshake, taking my hand in a firm grip.

"I'm Michael Porter, Mr Wright." I went to grab my bags to put them in the van, but he clutched them. With a swing of his arm, he tossed the bags in the back of the vehicle.

He drew his eyebrows together, wrinkling the skin on his forehead. "Michael, I don't want you calling me Mr Wright. Call me Tim. He smiled, patting me on the back. "Come on, let's go before I get a parking ticket."

It was a ten-minute drive to Tim's house. He lived in the South-West of Birmingham, In Edgbaston. Once we reached our destination, he flicked the indicator to turn right. He was gesturing his index finger, pointing at a shop on the right. The sign on the shop said, 'Hagley Cafe'. "We live above the cafe," he said. Turning right, he did another sudden right turn, driving through a narrow lane into an open dark yard. Once we were near the parking lot where he would stop, the area automatically lit up by two huge floodlights, making the night into day. "Our security lights, they work on movement sensors. Anything that moves in a radius of 10 yards, the floodlights come on," he smiled.

It was an immense open space. One side of the yard was the back entrance of the shops that Tim showed me before we turned off the main road. There were cars parked around the yard in numbered parking lots. Tim parked near the back entrance of Hagley Café. Next to the door was a large green wheelie bin. The lid on the container was up in the air from the over-flowing black garbage bags.

He saw me staring at the wheelie bin. He said, "The dustmen come twice a week. They should be collecting the rubbish tomorrow morning."

"To take out that much rubbish in a few days, you must get very busy?" I said.

"Too busy," He replied.

I slid the van door open, grabbing my two bags. I threw the duffel bag over my left shoulder and the rucksack in my hand. I followed Tim. We walked towards the exit of the yard, onto the side road, and then left onto the main street. Tim stopped next to the main entrance of Hagley Café. Which had two doors? One had the number 151 and the other 151A.

"The glass door to the left is the cafe. The wooden door is to the flat on the right," Tim explained as he gestured his hand towards the two doors. Opening the wooden door, Tim led the way up the stairs. "Give the door a hard pull, Michael. It's a bit stiff," Tim explained. "Also, I have to remember to go to the locksmith to have an extra set of keys cut tomorrow." When we got to the top of the stairs, Tim called out, "Barbara, we're home."

A woman appeared at the end of the hall. She was wearing a cooking apron; she had her hands crossed across her chest.

"Didn't I tell you to call me? When you pick up the lad, Tim. So, I can heat the food," the woman yelled. Standing next to her was a teenage girl, still in her school uniform. Curiosity was written all over the teenager's face, just staring at me.

"Love you too, honey," Tim smiled. "Don't forget who the boss is," he whispered to me.

She marched towards us, her eyes glued on me. "Welcome to our home, Michael. I'm Barbara, Tim's wife." She hugged me, giving me a tight bear hug. I watched the shy teenage girl behind her as she put her hand over her mouth and began to giggle. "Laughing hyena behind me is our daughter, Tina."

"Mum!" Tina yelled.

Once we exchanged introductions, we made our way to the kitchen, where Barbara began to heat the food while Tina set up the kitchen table. I tried to protest that I had already eaten, but Barbara wouldn't have it. She insisted that I have something to eat. After our meal, Tina excused herself to go to her room.

Tim showed me the guest room I would be sleeping and a little tour around the property. I was surprised by the condition of the rooms. The exterior of the building was nothing special, but the interior was well maintained. Something that Tim was proud to mention as he showed me each room. Explaining to me how difficult it was to get the wallpaper aligned when he was putting it up. Finishing our tour in the living room, where Barbara was seated on the sofa, watching TV. The moment Tim and I sat down, she was up on her feet, asking what we would like to drink.

"That's what happens when you work in a café for over twenty years. You think everyone is a customer," Tim said, earning himself a light slap on the shoulder by his wife.

After a brief chat with Tim and Barbara, I told them about myself. I couldn't help it by yawning a couple of times in front of them. After all, it was a long and tiring day for me. It didn't take long for Tim to notice me yawning. He politely excused himself, as he had an early start in the morning, to open the café. I thanked them again for letting me stay in their lovely home before making my way to the guest room.

It was late to unpack my clothes, so I just pulled a pair of shorts and a T-shirt out of the duffel bag. I wanted to have a quick shower before going to bed, but I could hear Tim and Barbara talking in the room next to mine. I didn't want to intrude, just in case, they came out of their room into the corridor.

"It is the third night in a row. He hasn't come home. I'm worried about him." I heard Barbara worriedly say. Her voice could be heard clearly through the wall.

"Honey, he's eighteen years old. He's an adult. If we try to tell him not to stay out late, there is a chance he might leave home again," Tim answered back. I could hear the worried tone in his voice.

"We're losing him, Tim. We're losing our son." I could hear Barbara's sobs.

After a few minutes of silence, Tim said, "Ok, I'll try and talk to him when he decides to come home. Hopefully, that will be tomorrow."

I stood by the window, staring outside. Thinking, "Each household has its problems."

The guest bedroom was on the backside of the flat, facing the backyard. It was pitch black outside. I could barely see the roof of Tim's van. Suddenly, the floodlights came on. My eyes scanned the yard to see who had triggered the light sensor. It didn't take long to find out. I saw a fox's tail waving in the air. Its head was buried in a black garbage bag, fending for food. After taking a deep breath and a slight shake of my head, I climbed into bed. I lay there on my side, watching the window, waiting for the lights to turn off. I could hear Tim and Barbara speaking. The subject was their son. My eyes slowly began to close as I drifted off to sleep.