The Security Man: A Novel

Prologue

I met Sharon a year and a half after my marriage to Joan fell apart. The only thing they had in common was they were both 5-2 in height. Our wonderful everlasting union was heading for the thirty year fence mark, two months to go to renewing our vows in fact but in this two horse human race my lovely little filly refused to jump the fence and decided to trot off in another direction leaving me to wander hopelessly into pastures unknown.

It was a scary time treading the board’s of others people’s houses. I finally settled down in my father’s house down there in Ashtown bordering the beautiful County Wicklow. Only problem with that fact was my father still lived there. A grumpy spiteful and a very angry man confined to a wheelchair he fought and argued with anyone and everyone who bothered to take time and try talk to him. Anyway life was a bore until the beautiful Sharon came on the scene.

God she was beautiful and the most vivacious woman I’ve ever met. We courted for seven years then got married in the little Registry Office in Grand Canal Street on the fringes of Dublin city. We finally found a little place of our own in the inner city but things were hard enough money wise and were to get even harder coming early into the recession of the early 90’s, only the black market economy kept us going but now even that was drying up with thousands of people young and not so young flocking abroad to find work. Eventually I had to bite the bullet and go down to the social welfare office to see if I could find any help at all. I had to swallow my pride and enter the dragons den. I was desperate to find a job; not only to regain myself respect not to mention earning a few shillings.

Chapter one

The interview

Social welfare office on Gardener Street. 10-30AM on a cold wet and very windy Monday morning in March 1990. A very thin almost bald welfare officer flicking through some papers on his desk said looking suspiciously at me over the rim of his heavy bifocal glasses.

‘Eh, I see here that you haven’t had a job since eh… 1985, surly that can’t be right Mr eh… Walker, this has to be a misprint… and then it says here,’ He looked me squarely in the eye.

‘It was only a casual job.

Is that right Mr Walker?’ he went on. ‘For two weeks… is that right?’

‘That is correct sir yes, that’s right if that’s what it says. Then it must be right… yeah.

I tried to be nice to him even though he was the typical sour faced man in a grey suit the kind of which I wouldn’t be seen dead in even if I could afford it.

My mind began to wander as I listened to him ramble on and on about rules and regulations. Christ you’d think you were in a bank looking for a loan of 20 grand. What would I get if I did manage to get the social? 20 bleeding quid a week hardly going to Italy for two weeks then on that. Still it kept the proverbially Wolfe from the door and even though there would be no luxuries we wouldn’t starve.

I felt sorry for beloved as she was stuck in most nights when I knew she liked to get out and have a few drinks and a little fun. I always had a great time when we got home after a night out as the drink did something to her sexual hormones and seeing her beautiful body naked did something to mine.

He said sourly.

‘You are a painter and decorator… is that right?’ ‘Yes sir that is correct. Like my father and his father before him,’ I said feeling a little more than uneasy.

I knew what was coming.

He lifted his head looking straight into my eyes.

‘And what may I ask, seeing you were out of work for so long… did you live on?’

I felt a little flustered.

I eye balled his name on the plaque on his desk.

John Mullet.

There was something fishy about that name.

His dark blue eyes penetrated through to my very soul.

‘Er… the Black economy… yes sir, a little bit of this… a little bit of that and a little bit of the other,’ I laughed trying hard to appear humble.

He said. ‘I beg your pardon,’

‘The Black economy… you know; nixers… odd jobs… here and there, this and that,’ I repeated softly. ‘You know what it’s like?’

He interrupted.

‘So you did have a job then?’

I responded quickly. ‘Well not exactly a job. I wouldn’t really call it a job… no sir, not a proper job.

Definitely not a full time job; couldn’t call it a job really… not exactly a proper job.

If you know what I mean sir?’

Baffle them with working man’s science; that is what my dad used to tell me, but today I wasn’t working and neither was my working man’s science.

I tried winking at the welfare officer who drew back a little at this gesture; His pot marked face seemed to tighten and his lips thinned when he growled.

‘I’m sorry Mr Walker but I don’t know what you mean.

Did you or did you not just tell me that you were working in the black economy?

Whatever that means?’ he added looking very straight faced at me.

I now know why they are called faceless.

Skin like granite.

No emotion whatsoever on his ugly mug.

Faceless civil servant, probably never had a ride in his life.

The only womb he ever saw was when he was sliding through his mothers on his way out of it.

I said trying to confuse him. ‘Well yes I did. In a roundabout kind of way; I mean… I can’t give you any facts or figures. It was only a few quid here and there. Mind you it was not for any length of time either.

Christ I had to give the wife something.

I only had it in my hands for a few seconds and then hey presto it suddenly vanished and like magic ends up in the wife’s hands.

I could never figure out how she did that,’ I went on. ‘She can still do that to this day,’ I joked he did not laugh.

‘Mr Walker,’ he interjected beginning to lose patience.

‘Mr Walker, if I am to help you I do need facts and figures but as you yourself said… you do not have any, then I’m afraid I can’t do anything for you… I’m sorry’ then proceeded to close the folder he had before him.

I acted quickly if a little foolishly.

‘But how am I to remember times and dates? I can hardly remember where I was two weeks ago. This was years ago man… no one back then kept facts and figures.

Everyone did it.

That’s why they called it the ‘black’ economy.’

‘Mr Walker, how am I to proceed with your claim for unemployment if you cannot give me any figures? Why you do not even have a P45 do you?’ Mr Walker I need something for the records… something tangible; without that form I simply cannot help you… I’m sorry, good day,’

I was starting to lose my temper and said to him raising my voice somewhat; ‘Oh yeah, well what about all those people from the country that are invading our little Dublin? Do they have a P45? I don’t think so, yet you help them… how come?’ rising to his feet he said. ‘Sorry,’

Hot and bothered now I just let loose. ‘They’re not a wet day in the bleeding capital and you give them medical cards and brand new houses. Jesus… you can’t do enough for them… and you turn your back on me… the only one true Dubliner in this whole bleeding office block… shame on you,’ he got a little flushed.

‘Now have you quite finished Mr Walker? Because I do have other people to see you know… Dublin people.

I’m sure that they do have facts and figures’

‘No I said, I haven’t but I see by your face that if I were to stay here all day it would not make a God damm bit of difference,’ I replied. ‘Beside,’ I went on, ‘I’m the wrong colour for a start I don’t have a red neck or a sunburned face,’

‘Now Mr Walker… no need for that… no need to be racist now,’ said the Officer raising his voice.

It was now ‘me against them’ I said to myself knowing I was losing it. ‘I lose every time… it is you that is discriminating against me… I was born and reared in this country… and eh… paid my taxes,’

The welfare officer jumped to his feet.

‘Paid your taxes did you? Why you never worked a day in your life; not officially anyway… so don’t give me that crap… I paid my taxes, hah’ he said looking nervously down at his folder and trying to keep his composure.

‘I wasn’t drafted into this job yesterday you know… I know all the tricks you guys play… so don’t try kidding me.’ he began to sweat and to be honest so did I.

But I wasn’t finished.

I jumped in with my two pence worth. ‘I pay my taxes every time I turn around in this God forsaken country… clothes, food and shoes on my feet; not to mention the few smoke’s and the drink I can’t afford to buy… I have to buy foodstuff every day and pay a heavy vat rate on it… but take a close look at all those working on the building sites… in the classrooms, in the Guards… even the bleeding government, they’re all from the bleeding country;

Red necks every single one of them… and do they give jobs to us poor Dubs… no sir all they do is take take fucking take.’ said I on a roll.

He shot to attention. ‘I will not stay here a moment longer… Mr Walker, good morning,’ he showed me the door by pointing his finger towards it. ‘Out,’ he said. ‘Don’t come back without some facts and figures.’

I could tell by his accent he was one of those faceless pricks from Kerry.

While I was still a jobless prick from Dublin.

On the way home I knew that I had made a right old mess of the interview and Sharon was not going be too pleased.

‘You have to keep your tongue in your mouth and don’t go losing it or they will just have the excuse they need not to help you, and remember Tommy… they don’t know you from Adam.’ She had told me at breakfast, and as I walked the shortcut from Gardiners St across the bridge and up the Quays towards Cork St I could feel my anger subsiding.

I like to walk along the Quays. To see all those people of every race and colour come and go as they go about their business especially on a Saturday when there are crowds of them in town shoplifting.

‘A be-grudger and racist am I?

I’m no fucking be-grudger or racist; why I have friends in Ballymun, and my new found friend John Mac is from Nigeria; ok his name is not really Johnny Mac, that’s just a name I gave him because I couldn’t pronounce his real name Mud-adin-the-army-iam or some fucking fancy name like that.

That doesn’t make me a racist, does it? I asked myself.

Fucking hell.

Sharon is not going to be happy.

There had been no money coming in since that job last month and what with Nolan’s shoe shop going on fire last week and Sharon losing her little job things have not been going well at all.

Still something will turn up it always doe’s as she always says looking up to heaven.

God is good.

He must be in a bad mood this morning then.

Walking up through the Liberties I see all kinds of human rejects, the winos and druggies waiting for their next fix; the young kid’s mitching from school; a young man and even younger girl heading up a laneway, he heading for some kind of deviant sexual pleasure and the poor girl heading for life as a single mother if she’s not careful. I say she because he looks like he couldn’t care less. God, what some people have to do to live. I remember my first time up the lane, with that beautiful little Angie something or other. Angel I called her but she was no Angel. At least she was gone past her 17th birthday.

Well she said she was anyway and who was I to query if she was or not beside it was my first time so the chance of hitting the target first time was very unlikely; that’s what I told myself anyway even when I heard she got pregnant. I heard the baby died at birth poor little bastard never even got to take a breath.

I stopped at the corner of Patrick St; not to admire the scenery like the beautiful big Cathedral but to catch my breath. I have to get myself fit, and all I’m fit for now is bed. Christ it’s all changed here since I was a kid. Paddy’s pet shop used to be right over there on the corner to the left.

How many pigeon’s did I stick up my jumper in that little shop that made me so claustrophobic? Useless they bloody were, racing pigeon’s from up north that were not up to flying the three or four hundred miles home. Ended up in some pet shop instead and mugs like me paying hard earned money for them.

Or as I said sometimes sticking them up my jumper and doing a runner from the shop. It was too easy. Now there are hundreds of new apartments where the old tenements were, looks a lot better though. It was a very rundown street when I was a kid.

There used to be a shop well more like a shack than a shop over there on the corner that bought old glass jam-jars. Myself and old smelly Murphy from Kimmage used to come here a lot on the old horse and cart.

I wonder what ever happened to him. I ended up driving that horse and cart, God there’s a memory. I must have been oh, twelve or thirteen then, and it was a beautiful black stallion.

Had to be put down though, that bastard Rogers wouldn’t pay for a vet when the horse fell and busted both front knees.

Shame that.

I walked into the stable one morning and he was rubbing thick black grease on its front knees.

He ran me out and bolted the stable door from the inside, the miserable bastard.

Two days later the poor horse died.

What am I going to tell Sharon?

I won’t have to tell her anything, that woman is physic; besides the look on my face will tell her long before I open my mouth.

Maybe she can get a job fortune telling, or failing that start selling apples on Moore St.

I better not suggest that or I’ll be in the spare room tonight.

There must be something legal out there for me to do. I’ll just have to swallow my pride and go and ask Mulligan.

He knows everything and everyone in this town; trouble is once you go to him and he helps you out he thinks you’re his to do what he likes with; like sending you out to beat someone up, for not paying his dues.

There was even talk last year that a body found up some back street was there because he showed no respect to Mulligan.

Tried to muscle in more like, Mulligan is into everything these days.

I hate everything he stands for, there has to be another way of making an honest few bob.

Another ten minutes and I’ll be home and facing my beautiful if somewhat angry wife. I feel a little bit like Andy Capp, you know that little cartoon chap that was allergic to work.

Why couldn’t I have got a proper job instead of following my father into the building trade?

I loved painting though and I got great pleasure from seeing the houses finished and looking really fresh and lovely.

I should have joined a Trade Union though at least then I would have had more work and even a pension but no, too young to care about all that kind of stuff.

Paying for it now though but sure there is no point worrying about all that shit now as I once heard Sharon’s mum say to her after a silly row we had.

‘You made your bed now lie in it.’ God I love my woman, maybe with a little luck I will show how much tonight, it’s been awhile since we made love.

At least two whole nights.

Now though it’s time to face the music if I could only find my keys. She must be out as there is no sign of life. Yeah I can see my keys now, through the letterbox on the phone table in the bleeding hallway; bloody hell, I hope she won’t be long.

I’m bursting for a pee.

I waited about an hour before she came home, I had to go up the back of the shops and pee there as I couldn’t hold it any longer.

‘Where have you been babe? I’ve been waiting ages,’ and before she could ask me how the interview went I said. ‘I forgot my keys I left them on the phone table,’

‘I know you did, you would forget you bloody trousers if it wasn’t so cold outside or if I was not here to remind you,’ she said. I was suspicious off her as she had a little smile on her beautiful face.

‘How did the social welfare go?’ she asked me as she opened the door and went inside.

No point in lying.

I decided to tell the truth and when I told her she didn’t seem surprised.

‘They rang the house,’ she said then went on.

‘The labour exchange rang the house, they have a job for you,’ she waited a few seconds watching my face turn a little red.

‘They gave me all the particulars… in the form of a telephone number there on the kitchen table,’ then gently pushing me towards the kitchen she said, ‘That’s shut you up, hasn’t it darling?’

It had caught me on the hop. After all that man said to me, he as good as called me a be-grudger and a racist, with an allergic affliction towards work.

Well kind off, and now here he is offering me a job.

‘What kind of job is it? I asked her.

‘The kind you get paid for,’ she said with that little smile getting broader now as she went ahead of me into the kitchen.

‘There you go,’ she said nodding to a piece of paper on the table.

I glanced at the note on the table then turned and put the kettle on. I was feeling a little strange.

Fish face offered me a job after the way he treated me in his office.

Feeling guilty he was the bastard.

How could he do this to me?

‘It won’t kill you to take a look.’ she said as she finished making the coffee.

I could see her shoulder blades moving from all the sniggering she was doing as she fiddled with something at the sink.

Chapter two

The Job

I sat down to read the note while she put the groceries away. It simply said ‘security man wanted telephone 794632’ I was to ask for some guy called Wayne.

It didn’t give a last name.

‘Why don’t you ring now Tommy?’ Sharon said as she put the mug of tea on the table in front of me.

‘While I’m doing your toast,’

‘It’s a security job babe… what do I know about security? The little I do know is that you’re out all hours of the day and night… you’ll be alone all night and I wouldn’t feel very secure about that,’

I said trying to ease my way out of doing the dirty deed.

My mate Mick down the road works at security.

‘It’s very boring Tom, but other than that it’s okay,’

He told me only last week. ‘Unless you’re put on nights… now that is boring but it’s a job and there is not too many of those about as you well know.’

‘Oh you waiting for a cushy little number to come to you in bed,’ she asked sarcastically.

That is exactly what I was hoping for tonight I thought to myself.

‘No I’m not Sharon… it’s just that I don’t want to work nights, that’s all,’ I didn’t either, or days.

‘But it may not be night work Tommy… and even if it is we need the money all I had saved is now gone… we need the money Tommy… so get on that phone and ring that number before someone else does.’

So I went into the hall to make the call closing the kitchen door behind me but as I lifted the phone Sharon opened the door slightly.

She knows me well that girl.

She is sometimes a right pain in the arse but hey, I love her to bits.

I love her lovely bits.

‘Can I speak to Wayne please?’ I said nodding to Sharon peeping through the door. ‘Wayne speaking,’ was the reply. ‘I’m ringing about the security job,’ I said hoping it was gone. ‘Yeah okay, and your name is?’ He sounded nice and had a gentle kind of voice. ‘Tom… its Tom Walker,’ I tried to sound even nicer though I’m told I have a voice like a cement mixer. ‘Okay Tom, social told me you’d be ringing… we have a site on Patrick Street corner… it used to be a pub with no upper half if you get me… it is…’ ‘Yeah I know where that is,’ I interrupted him. ‘It was called Mc Coys,’ I tried to sound as if I knew things.

‘That’s right Tom, we need a man for the night shift… 8PM till 6AM, what do you think? Interested? I had to think fast, did I want the job or not? Sharon was still listening at the door beside if I don’t like it sure as least I can say I tried. ‘Yeah okay I’ll give it a go thanks Wayne,’ ‘No problem Tom,’ he said. ‘By the way it was called Mc Coles not Mc Cloys… sure we will see you there about 7-30 yeah?’ ‘Yeah okay I’ll be there, and thanks again,’ I said as I put the phone down. Sharon came into the hall and said. ‘Well?’ I start tonight babe… now where’s me toast?’ We hugged each other as we headed for the kitchen. ‘Come love sit and tell me what it is… where it is and how much it is?’ ‘Money wasn’t mentioned babe, but Mick down the road says it pays okay… I’ll know more tonight.’ I said feeling rather good. ‘It’s a start Tommy love… a fresh start… thank you Jesus.’ Sharon was that kind of woman. Shocking holy.

‘Right,’ she said jumping up from the chair, ‘Get up those stairs and get a few hours sleep… it’s going to be a long night for you… oh Tommy, we have another chance to live again… these past two years have been a nightmare trying to manage… if it hadn’t been for ma… maybe now I can get one of those new mobile phones, I’m going to ring her and tell her the good news… off you go now and I’ll be up soon,’

She said then added with a bow revealing the valley between her beautiful breasts.

‘I feel a quickie coming on,’ I was up those stairs three at a time.

True to her word she came up and we had a lustful time under the sheets. She loves the build up and I have to admit so do I.

I can go for ages and ages because I have turned love making into an art.

She loves it.

I love her loving it.

However on this occasion she had to make do with 30 minutes or so. My mind kept flashing back and forward to the new job.

I was going up and down like a yo-yo.

I was putty in her hands.

Will I last the night or will I not? I mean that is a 12 hour shift. Sharon was giving it loads when all of a sudden the thermostat went down completely. ‘Sorry babe… I can’t concentrate,’ I said rather sheepishly.

‘It’s alright love… I understand, you go to sleep now… it will be evening before you know it, I’ll call you at 6 yeah?’ she said slipping her bra back on.

‘6 will be fine.’ I said turning over to face the picture of the Sacred Heart of Jesus on the wall.

One thing I love about making love is that I always sleep like a log after it. She didn’t hear me whisper ‘thank you Jesus’ to the picture on the wall.

Sometimes I can be shocking holy as well though it’s not very often.

I was feeling really good.

I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew Sharon was pulling at the eiderdown and calling me.

‘Okay Tommy wake up now… dinner will soon be on the table… I have the emersion on so go have a quick shower then come down,’ she said then went on singing.

‘In Dublin’s fair City’

She is some wife, always thinking of my home comforts.

Still it was good to hear her laugh and sing again.

Things were starting to look up a bit thank God.

The atmosphere in the house had already changed for the better.

I got there around 7-15PM.

I needed to see what I had gotten myself into and if need be still have time to do a runner.

The place was situated on the right hand side of the junction. ‘Peter’s Square.’ the locals called it after the one in Rome, but it wasn’t really a square more a junction that branched off in all directions one north along Nichol Street then into Christ Church, one back south into the Liberties and the other west towards the better part of town the leafy area of Foxrock.

Just a few metres up the road there’s Cook Street; it ran all the way down to the Quays. 200 yards up to the right was the old Mercers Hospital run down now but still housing a few drug addicts and homeless people.

Further up about a hundred and fifty maybe two hundred yards was the old Moran’s Bakery where a lot of men and women found work, and a few doors up from that of course was the old Cardboard Box Company also now long gone; it fell apart years ago.

This part of the city has been neglected for so long it was in danger of demolishing itself. I could see Christ Church from where I stood.

Across the street is where Paddy’s pet shop once stood; where I spent a lot of time in my childhood days.

Robbing pigeons.

The traffic is really busy here and I pushed the pedestrian button to stop the cars and walked across the road to the opposite corner and stood there sizing up the site.

It was a big area; work had started then stopped for some reason. Wayne never said what it is but I’m sure he will tonight.

My heart pumped blood a little quicker than usual as I glanced once more at my watch.

I walked up and down the street like a soldier on duty while I waited for Wayne to show.

I didn’t have to wait long as silver Audi pulled up and a man got out before the lights changed.

He said something to the driver and came over to me.

‘Tom? Hello Tom,’ he said as we shook hands.

‘Nice to meet you Tom… I see you are a man that likes to be on time.

I like that Tom,’ turning to face the building he went on to say.

‘This is a big job Tom, going to take a year maybe two, it is one of 2 contracts we have on this street Tom,’ he said turning me around to face the opposite corner. ‘See that building there Tom? The one with its roof missing that’s the other one of our sites in this area, now Tom,’ he said turning me back around like I was a kid unwilling or unable to do so myself.

‘There is going to be a string of classy shops on this site, imagine the big picture Tom; on top of the shops there are going to be apartments and state of the art offices… come on Tom, let us take a look inside yeah.’

We went through a small wooden door in the centre of the main gate and into the site. There were still some parts of the old building standing and looked positively dangerous. Further down the site were old sheds that wouldn’t look out of place in Dickens a Tale of Two Cities; to my right were some kind of two story storehouse’s with the block and tackle still visible.

On the left where some rent-a-cabins piled three high on top of each other; in the centre there was a hole that could swallow up half the Galaxy.

‘There you go Tom, see why your here? This is a dangerous site Tom… and the kids from around here love danger Tom, so this is why I need you here Tom, to keep them out, what do you say, are you the man I’m looking for or do I have to look elsewhere?’

I must say I felt a little uneasy and could only nod to him.

‘Is that a yes or no Tom? I’m not really into sign language,’ He said smiling.

‘Yes, I’m your man,’ I said meekly.

‘That’s the spirit Tom, I knew you wouldn’t let me down… now the going rate is 8 quid and hour but we pay more on certain sites, like this one for example, 12 quid and hour, what say you Tom? We will give you as many hours as you can manage, it is not hard work but we expect you to do what your paid for… and not go running to the nearest boozer as soon as I’m gone… and then in a drunken state fall into that black hole never to be seen again. You know what I’m saying here Tom?

So Tom what say you?

I said to him.

‘So I’m just to walk around the site and be seen is that it?’

‘Got it in one Tom,’ he said. ‘I knew you were an educated man’ okay… you can count me in Wayne, I can do that… I won’t let you down,’ I said feeling a little strange but starting to feel just a little worthwhile again.

‘I know you won’t Tom… I knew that the moment I set eyes on you, I know my workmen Tom… there will be lots of work for you I guarantee that… there is a phone in that cabin there if you have to call the Guards… but the little rascals usually run when they see you coming so only call the Guards if it’s really necessary.

There is a fridge and kettle for making tea or coffee Tom, you have to bring your own stuff of course; here’s how it works, someone will come in at 5-30 or so to relive you; if they come early for you Tom do try to come early for them… we all work together here.

Okay? that’s me done Tom, I’ll leave you to it then, see you Tom, ring the office or my number if there are any problems,’ we shook hands and he was gone.

As I headed towards the cabin he stuck his head back in through the door and said. ‘Oh sorry Tom…