Chapter 1

For five months, that is how long I have been waiting for my retribution. A single word has been poisoning my mind. A voice in my head keeps saying, “retribution, retribution, retribution.”

Is this the end, does my retribution end here? Underneath the Brighton Pier on a chilly night, by the hands of a thug. I closed my eyes as memories swamped my mind.

Five months back

It was July 10. The weather was perfect, not a single cloud in the sky. As my wife and I rushed through the square of Covent Garden, my goal was to get to Theatre Royal Drury Lane. I say my goal because it was a birthday surprise for my wife, Julie. We bustled passed the market stools. I held her hand tight, as we dodged the tourists and entertainers.

“What race are we in?” Julie shouted as she attempted to keep up with me.

“We are nearly there my love,” I replied.

As I approached the corner of Catherine Street, I had to force myself to stop. I was trying to avoid from slamming into the group of people ahead of me. “What is going on here?” I said. Pretending to be oblivious of what was happening around us.

With a smile on her face, Julie said, “Oh, everyone must be waiting to get into the theatre to watch 42nd Street. I was reading the reviews about this show, which is playing at Theatre Royal Drury Lane. You have to reserve tickets months in advance.” She sighed as she observed all the happy faces amongst the huge crowd. “They must be waiting for the doors to open.” She raised herself onto her toes, hoping to see a celebrity amongst the crowd.

“You mean these tickets?” I commenced waving two tickets in front of her.

With a sharp twist of her body, she turned around, her eyes centred on the two theatre tickets.

“Not the best seats in the house, but they will give us admission to watch 42nd Street,” I announced.

“Oh my God, oh my God!” she repeatedly screamed, as she leapt towards me, embracing me in a firm hug. Kissing me, imprinting lips all over my face with her bright red lipstick. Her performance was getting a few chuckles from the masses around us.

Between the smouldering of her lips, I managed to speak, “Happy Birthday my love.” I received another round of attacks by her lips.

Patiently we waited in the queue to enter the theatre. Julie was trying to remove the lipstick streaks from my face by using a wet tissue. She kept on repeatedly thanking me for the beautiful birthday surprise. That is when I felt someone patting me on the shoulder. I turned to see a tall, slim man. He seemed not more than thirty years old. He was well dressed, in a three-piece suit. His hair all greased back, like someone out of a gangster movie. I discovered a few months later that this mobsters name was Bobby. Next to Bobby stood a giant, A Goliath of a man, which I found out in time he was Bobby’s henchman.

“I’ll give you £200?” Bobby said.

“Not for sale,” I responded. Turning back to face the front, holding Julie by her hand, my fingers locked into hers.

“I’ll give you £500?” he insisted.

Turning, with force in my voice I replied, “Look the tickets are not for sale!” I stared into his eyes, attempting to make my point.

He curled his lips into a grin. “I’m not talking about your tickets, buddy. I want to buy your bitch for £500.” His expression, turned to rage, as he looked down at the ground, my eyes trailed his sight. He had a switchblade in his hand, pointed directly at my body, only a few inches away from me. I instantly reacted, moving Julie behind me to guard her.

“We have to go, boss,” said the henchman, his eyes focused along Catherine Street.

Two police officers were patrolling the street. They were walking towards us.

“Until we meet again,” Bobby said with a smirk on his face. He gazed into my eyes, at that instant I knew this was not over. With a swift turn, they both disappeared into the heaps of people.

Julie was shaken up. I was too, but my concern was for Julie’s well-being. I had dealt with thugs like this in the past. I could deal with them, but I was worried about Julie. My wife wanted to stop the police officers to notify them about the incident.

“They have gone. Let’s put it behind us and enjoy our evening,” I said.

Not being able to appreciate the show, I sat there and gazed at the stage for three hours. I was thinking of what occurred outside with the two thugs. Maybe Julie was right. We should have informed the officers.

Once the show ended, we made our way out by the exit doors on the side of the theatre. As soon as we were on the street, that is when I tried to be more alert to what was occurring around us. Julie grabbed my arm, tugging herself toward me, as we strolled through Covent Garden. All the shop owners had closed for the night. The only movement in the square was pedestrians hurrying to their destinations. I could feel Julie tighten her grip on my arm, as we walked faster within Covent Garden Square. I attempted to appear normal, not to alarm her. Once we reached the Underground Station, Julie’s grip loosened slightly.

We raced through the ticket barriers, with our pre-paid tickets, as quickly as we could. Both of us relieved on seeing the lift doors open that would take us down to the train tunnel. “Hey, don’t worry, they are long gone,” I said. We smiled at each other, as we got into the lift.

There was some movement on the platform. People were anticipating for the train to arrive. I believe we were not the only commuters in a rush to get back home, after an evening in Central London. The electronic timetable showed ‘Cockfosters two minutes’. Cockfosters was our stop. Once the train’s lights appeared within the tunnel, everyone stepped closer to the edge of the platform. I inhaled a deep breath and held it as the train came to a halt. Once the doors opened, we both leapt into the carriage, claiming two seats next to each other.

The train’s doors hesitated on closing. A minute later the carriage intercom crackled to life. The male voice said, “There will be a twenty-minute delay due to faulty light signals ahead. We are sorry for the inconvenience.”

Passengers around us protested about the delay. After some minutes, everyone accepted the suspension and settled down. More passengers piled into the carriage, causing it to overflow. The doors eventually started to close. They stopped midway. Opening and closing, smashing together repeatedly.