The Limit: Chapter 12
...He travelled first class to be able to watch his luggage more easily and read the Elmore Leonard during the journey. He was enjoying himself. His attitude was ten years younger already. Action had always been exciting; now it was rejuvenating.
So far, he hadn't attempted to plan any aspect of the job. It was in Blackpool so he let it stay there. The time to start thinking about it was when he arrived, when he saw the fighting ground and could assess the opposition. Anyway, he was still a hired hand. He would be operating under the direction of Toni, although on his own terms...
Hardman Maudie is heading north to protect the business interests of Toni Rossetti, a young lady determined to get the better of violent interlopers.
To read earlier chapters of Peter Lacey's compelling novel please click on The Limit in the menu on this page.
Maudie travelled north by train from Euston wearing his second-hand suit and carrying a hold-all and a Samsonite suitcase.
The hold-all contained new clothes that included shirts, slacks, a sweater and windcheater jacket. The reinforced and rigid suitcase contained his purchases from the Chinaman.
He had done very well and had listened more carefully to the advice of the arms broker than he had years before when he thought he knew everything. Times and weapons change and he had been guided by the Chinaman.
He travelled first class to be able to watch his luggage more easily and read the Elmore Leonard during the journey. He was enjoying himself. His attitude was ten years younger already. Action had always been exciting; now it was rejuvenating.
So far, he hadn't attempted to plan any aspect of the job. It was in Blackpool so he let it stay there. The time to start thinking about it was when he arrived, when he saw the fighting ground and could assess the opposition. Anyway, he was still a hired hand. He would be operating under the direction of Toni, although on his own terms.
At the moment he had the advantage because anything that was going to happen was going to be caused by him. He was a secret guided weapon, targeted courtesy of British Rail.
It was all a bit like a Boy's Own adventure and that was another aspect that pleased him. He had always enjoyed adventure, even growing up in Bow and Bethnal Green. Home had been an aerie, a basement flat in a high Victorian terrace opposite the Dragon pub. Mean streets but a great community spirit, and there was always Vicky Park nearby to provide a feel of the country.
He never remembered his father, who had done a bunk while Maudie was still a baby, but he had never felt deprived. His gran and mum had made sure of that.
His gran—he could see her now, supervising the oven and steaming pans each Sunday dinnertime while pouring Guinness from the jug he had brought from the Dragon across the road.
He hadn't thought about it for years but the smell was there, hot and appetising in his memory.
His mum, well, she'd been a bit of a gel, but who could blame her?
Looking back, you only saw the good things, but there had been plenty of hard times, too. It had been inevitable that he would turn out the way he had.
Even the war hadn't straightened him out. He had gone from juvenile crime to call-up to dishonourable discharge, once the hostilities had ceased, for redistributing army supplies on the black market.
It had all been essential experience and a necessary part of his criminal education. There had been nothing else for him but to be a villain.
In his younger days he had fully accepted that his acts of violence and dishonesty were unlawful and unjustifiable in the eyes of society. But that was all right because he had never considered himself to be part of society.
He had strong views, though, that it was necessary to have rules and standards for people to live by. If you didn't, people like him wouldn't have been able to make a living.
But society's standards had always been faulty. You only had to look at how the rich got richer and the poor got shat on. You could even blame the faults of the system for his life of crime. At least, a good brief could make a case of it.
Maudie laughed at himself silently. Old age was turning his brain soft. The reason he had become a villain was because he had gained a reputation for violence in his youth. He had liked both the reputation and the excitement of violence. It had brought instant friendships, camaraderie and ego. The power had been a drug and he had become professional, his violence clinical and divorced from feeling.
His professionalism had brought rewards and punishments, and the last punishment had finally chipped loose his certainty. For the first time he had assessed his past and discovered emptiness.
But, as in the song, he could allow no regrets. It was his past. It was the only thing he owned. He hadn't dared look into the future.
Now he had a new lease on life. Nothing long term. Christ, at his age nothing could be long term. But there was something to look forward to, danger to anticipate, violence to face. Most of all, a justification.
It was nice, just for once, to be on the side of the angels.
