Innocent on the run. Part 41.

Chapter 15. Ricky came around slowly. It was dark with a few chinks of light shining through something. His head was splitting, and the sharp needles of light made him shut his eyes again quickly. He looked out from under lowered lids, but couldn't make anything out in the gloom. He sat up and winced at the pain in his head. Chinks of light were coming from around what looked like a door in the far wall. He crawled over to it on hands and knees, and collided with something soft on the floor. It groaned. It was a person. Ricky climbed over it and it snored. He got to the door and opened it. It was a shed door. He held his hand up to his eyes as the sunlight blinded him, and he looked downwards. He was still crawling. He used the side of the shed as a support to raise himself to his feet. Turning unsteadily around, he looked back into the shed and could see Winston, sleeping on the floor on a quilt. It was morning. My God, he thought. What time was it? His watch told him that it was ten forty five. The Consul. He had to be there at eleven. But where was he? The shed he'd slept in was on a hillside surrounded by dwellings which all looked like garden sheds, made up from odd bits of wood and corrugated iron. His head was bursting, but he had to find a taxi, so he staggered down the hillside, feeling like death. Jamaicans were sat outside their huts, laughing at him as he stumbled on, desperate to get to the consul. After ten minutes he came to a built up area and managed to flag down a passing taxi. 'British Consul. Quick,' he croaked. There was something wrong with his throat, he could hardly talk. The taxi driver grinned at him, and put his foot down. It was eleven fifteen when they pulled up outside the Consulate, and Ricky paid the driver and ran into the foyer. The same clerk was behind the desk and Ricky told him his name, which he checked against his list. Ricky had hardly sat down to wait, when the door of the same office that he'd been in the day before opened, and the fair haired man came out. He glared at Ricky and shouted across the foyer, 'Davies, come.' Ricky got up and went into the office. The man stared at him. 'You're late.' he bellowed, and Ricky cringed at the noise. `And look at the state of you,' he continued. `You're worse than you were yesterday, if that's possible.' Ricky looked down at the crumpled state of his clothes, and the alcohol stains that were all over him. He must stink to high heaven, he thought. `Accident,' he managed to say. `Accident , my foot. I smell alcohol, and you're obviously hung over. I'll be glad to see the back of you, Davies, I really will. What a disgusting state to come into the consulate in. You deserve to get no help at all, but as we want to be shot of you as soon as we can, I can confirm that the Shipping Company you worked for has verified your story about missing your ship. They have sent a telegram to your parents, telling them that you are well and where you are. I'm sending you home, laddie. There's a British Tanker sailing tonight and you're going to be on it.' Ricky 's spirits soared. He grinned at the consul. `Wipe that stupid grin off your face, it won't be a picnic. I've told the Captain to put you to work, and work you shall. You've caused untold extra work for us, and the sooner we see the back of you, the better we'll like it.' Ricky was so relieved, he said ` Thank you very much.' The consul picked up the phone. ` Have the car brought round,' he said into the mouthpiece. `That's all Davies,' he said. `Get your gear, if you’ve got any. The driver will take you to the ship.' Ricky turned to go, happy to be on his way. As he was going out of the door, the consul said, `If you miss this ship, you're on your own, Davies. Don't come back here.' The car was waiting outside and Ricky directed him to Betty's house. He went in and Betty came out from the back room to meet him. `Where you been, son? ' she said, a worried look on her face. 'Sorry, Betty,' he said. I met some friends and got a bit carried away. The car's waiting to take me to a ship. I'm on my way home.' `That's good,' she said. 'Thanks a lot, Betty. I'll just get my things and be off.' He ran up the stairs and gathered his few items together. His head was still banging like a drum, but he didn't seem to mind it now. He was going home at last. He raced down the stairs and thanked Betty for all that she’d done for him. He was embarrassed when she took him in a bear hug and told him to look after himself. All the Jamaican money that he had left, he'd put on the bedside cabinet in the room. It wouldn't be any good to him now, and he knew that Betty wouldn't accept it if he offered it to her. She had a tear in her eye as she bade him farewell at the door. He waved to her from the car until she was out of sight. Copyright Deric Barry 2005.