JoyceCarter's entry for Comp #2

[JoyceCarter]

He thrashed and twitched a bit, but the cord was deep in his neck by the time he knew anything about it, and he was more concerned with trying to get one more breath into his lungs than with damaging me at all.  He didn't manage it, not the air, nor the damage.
I hung on till I was sure of him.  Dad eased into the room.
'I sometimes feel a bit sorry for a guard,' he said, 'but it's fate.  His hour has come.  Otherwise his guardian angel would have put him on a different shift.'
'All clear?' I asked.
'Yes.'  His face reflected the blue flicker from the security monitors my man had been watching.  There was a blank one which would have shown him where we'd got in, only Dad dealt with that a couple of hours before. 
I switched off all the cameras, then went straight to the notice-board, and found the day's duty roster.  Nothing had changed – the man in the chair wasn't due to be relieved for another sixty-five minutes.  His key-card was round his neck on a chain, and it had the vital red border, overprinted ALL AREAS. 
'What have you forgotten?'
He meant it, though my mind was blank.  He wasn't playing this job the way he usually did, as a partner, doing his share, but was pushing me to lead on everything – well, do everything.  When he was outside the house telling me to steal the car to get us over here, I'd asked him what he was up to.
'I want to see you go solo, son, he'd said.  'Humour me.  I'm just along for the ride.  It's a confidence booster.'
I wasn't going to question his judgement.  He'd taught me too well.  This sideline meant I would soon be rich, and wouldn't need to work any more.  He lived the same way himself, doing any jobs he felt like, not getting involved where he wasn't interested.  It seemed good to me.  But it meant I was having a busy night, while he stood back and watched.  I'd been doing all right – he hadn't lost his smile.  But now I'd forgotten something, had I?  He tapped his wrist.  My watch?  I was ashamed of myself for needing to be told.  He told me anyway.
'Always check your watch with their clocks. You know what happened to your Uncle Warren.'
Dad's little brother had trusted them to a watch with a dying battery.  Thinking they had ten more minutes clear, he'd been chased by the security men arriving on time for the new shift.  While Dad went the other way and had a happier landing, he'd come off the top of a twelve-foot wall and broken his neck trying to get away. Luckily, it was a long way from home, and the law never identified him.
This time, I could see no clock.  I checked the guard's wrist.  My watch and his showed the same time within seconds.
'So how long?' asked Dad.
'An hour,' I told him.
'An hour – thanks, mate,' said Dad to the dead man.
His key-card took me easily into all the rooms where I needed to go.  However much these places like to advertise their differences, the basics are the same, and it wasn't hard to see what work was carried out where.  Though I'd be selling them for tens of thousands each, none of the components I wanted was bigger than a credit card, so I wasn't weighed down, even when I'd found everything I came for.  I told Dad, 'Still got half an hour.  I'll go for the technical stuff in that safe.'
'Your decision, son.'  He followed me back, and stood off to one side while I tackled the safe. 
'Don't tell me a thing,' I said. 'I know I can do it.'  I'd seen him get into dozens of them, and done a few myself with him prompting me, but somehow, this time felt like my qualifying exam.  I wanted him to know I was confident, and to be proud of me.  I saw him smile when the door opened cleanly, and he grinned broadly and clapped me on the back when I showed him the folder with all the latest research details.
'That's made the job worth double,' he said.
Our friend's hour still had eight minutes to run, but we had nothing to linger for.  I led the way back to the car, parked in a residential area over a mile away.  No problems.
We didn't talk much on the way.  Dad made me tell him how I would contact our buyer next day.  Otherwise, all he said was, 'You've done all right.' 
'Did I pass?' I asked him as I stopped the car where we'd leave it, in a shopping street near home.
'Course you passed – I've taught you all I know.'  I could tell he was smiling by the sound of his voice.
'Will you call me tomorrow?'
'Doubt it.  But I'll be thinking of you.  Take care, son.'  He seemed in a hurry to leave, but I saw his dark shape raise a hand to me from the corner.
The party was still in full swing at home.  I went in through the garage, and came out under the stairs in the hall with a bottle of wine in each hand.  There were people everywhere.  I spoke to a lot of them as I pushed through, leaving the wine with some friends along the way.  My wife was on the patio, dancing with Geoff, one of the neighbours.  She drifted over to join me when the song ended.
'I thought you were only going to get another couple of bottles of red,' she said, leaning on my shoulder while she slipped her sandals off.  'I feel as if I've danced with most of our street since then.'
'That's the sign of a good party,' I told her. 'I've talked to most of the next street in the meantime.  They're all happy.'
We wandered out across the lawn, and sat down on the rockery edging the pool.  It looked good from there. 'It's almost worth all the clearing up tomorrow,' she said.  I kissed her.
That's how Geoff found us.
'Excuse me,' he said in a strange, formal tone of voice.
I looked up.  Close behind him were two policemen.
Geoff pointed at me.  'Here he is,' he said.  He stepped back out of the way, but not so far that he would miss anything.
The two men took off their helmets.  'Alan Jenkins?' asked the sergeant.
'Yes.'  I felt I ought to stand up to face him, but my legs were trembling.   I stayed where I was, trying to calm myself with deep breaths without making it obvious.  How could they have got onto me so fast?  I would have sworn there had been nobody following us tonight.
'What do you want with my husband?  said Theresa.
'Mr Jenkins, is your father Alan Jenkins, of 12, Kings Close?'
'Yes.  Why?'
'Mr Jenkins, I'm afraid we have bad news for you.  Your father was hit by a car in the road outside his house.  The doctors did everything they could, but he never regained consciousness. He died about two hours ago.'
'No!'  Theresa's arms tightened round me.
'I'm sorry, sir.  Someone who knows your father saw the whole thing.  There's no doubt.'
'But he's been with me!'  Something in the back of my mind was trying to attract my attention, but I couldn't spare the time right now.  'We were together – he only left me twenty minutes ago.'
'Don't be silly, love,' Theresa was saying.  'Your Dad hasn't been here.  Has he, Geoff?'
Our neighbour agreed.  'Not a party animal.'
I covered my face.  I didn't want to accept what these men were telling me, or how close I'd come to saying where I'd been while my house was full of visitors.  A hand fell on my shoulder.  Arrest?  To my surprise, it was sympathy from the sergeant.  'I can see this has hit you hard.'
The constable handed me a card.  'Ring this number in the morning, and they'll advise you about arrangements that have to be made.'  He went with my wife and Geoff, to pass the news to our guests, and get them to leave quietly without bothering me.  I realized I was crying.
'He was there tonight, the whole time.  He was making sure I didn't mess up.'
The sergeant sat down.  'I don't think it's crazy, sir.  You're not the first next-of-kin to tell me that it must be a mistake because the deceased had been right with them.  I'm sure you saw him.  But believe me, you spent your time tonight with a dead man.'
   I thought for a moment, and a feeling of calm came over me.  'You're right,' I said.  'I was with a dead man.  It's fate.  His hour had come.'

[SallyQ]

Oh good story Joyce. I like the way you didn't moralise about their 'career', but just told the story straight.



Sally

[Ant]

Great, economical language, Joyce. A damned good, detailed plot.

Ant

[Ed]

Sorry, Joyce - I only got around to reading this tonight.  Excellent story, and I get the impression you wrote it especially for the comp.  Did you, or was it just a happy coincidence?  Nicely done, either way

[JoyceCarter]

Thank you for your kind comments, folks.  Yes, Blunt, it was written specifically for this.