Chapter 15

It was a wet drizzly morning; the sky was dark, covered in grey clouds. It didn’t take long for the rain to start pouring down. We hurried to get into Duke’s car before we got drenched. Once he started driving, I didn’t want to distract him with questions while he was trying to concentrate on the road from the heavy rainfall as he headed out of Brentwood towards Shenfield.

We reached our destination as the cloudburst had stopped. It turned back into a drizzle. Duke parked the car in the bay of one of the five units of an industrial estate. The first from the left was a tyre shop selling new and second-hand tyres. Next to that was a carpet warehouse. Where Duke parked was a mechanics garage. The other two units on the right specialised in installing kitchens. It was a small industrial estate, concealed away from any residential properties.

Before we got out of the car, I said to Duke, “I guess you have just brought me to a job interview in which I haven’t prepared myself.” In front of me was the entrance to the garage. The work area was large enough to fit two average size vehicles if you reversed them in. There was enough space on the wall behind the cars for tools. Between the entrance and the cars, there was just about enough area to work. It was a tight workspace.

“This is my cousin Moses garage,” Duke said, showing me a man in mechanics overalls, leaning inside the engine bay of an old Volvo estate. “He’s a religious man, so be careful what words you use when you speak to him. He’s a pastor to the local African community during the weekend.”

I looked at the name above the shop entrance, which said ‘Hope Garage’. I turned to Duke, I said, “With the name Moses and a sign that says Hope, I wouldn’t have guessed that he was a man of God. If I get, the job does that mean I have to go to church every Sunday.”

Duke chuckled. “Let me introduce you to my cousin.” He called out, “Hey, Moses, what are you up to, pastor.”

As soon as he turned, his vision went on me. I noticed straight away that Moses wasn’t very friendly to strangers, primarily men my age. He just looked at me from head to toe before his eyes wondered to Duke. “Duke, you saw how it turned out with that other young man you sent me last time. He didn’t know the difference between an air filter and an oil filter.”

Duke was speechless; he was embarrassed by the situation.

I began to walk towards the Volvo, going past Moses. “What’s the problem with the estate,” I said.

He followed me, stretching his stride to get ahead of me. We both stopped at the Volvo’s engine bay. “When you rev the engine, you get black smoke coming out of the exhaust. A lot of black smoke,” he emphasised.

“What work have you done on it?”

He looked at me for a moment before he answered,” I have changed the air filter, checked the catalyst on it and the engine compression. I’ve been on it since yesterday,” Moses said with frustration in his voice.

“Is it ok if I start the engine?” I asked.

There was that look again.

“Have faith in me,” I smiled.

With the engine running, I found the fault within a few minutes. One of the air hoses, which balance the air and diesel mixture, had a slight split in it. It was difficult to see the damage behind the hose, and the cut was tiny. Over the engine noise, I yelled, “Do you have any duct tape or anything similar?” He grabbed a roll of tape from his tool bench and gave it to me. I wrapped the hose a couple of times with it, then revved the engine hard. The black smoke emitted from the exhaust was minimal. “Is that better now, Moses?”

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Michael.”

“When can you start, Michael?” Moses smiled.

“I need to change into my work clothes, and I’m ready. Is an hour ok with you?”

“I’ll be waiting for you. I’ll order the new hose, hopefully by the end of the day. We’ll have this job done.” Moses smiled.

Duke dropped me off back at the hotel. He left straight away to go home, as he needed to get some sleep. I quickly unloaded my car with the few things I had. The hotel concierge appeared from nowhere with a trolley to help me take my stuff to my room. Before going to my bedroom, I extended my stay for the next month, paying for a week in advance. Before reprogramming my keycard, the receptionist went to the back office. She returned with another lady, who introduced herself as the Front Office Manager. I explained that I would be staying for a month, as I have some business to attend to in Brentwood. Her sight went at once on the trolley with my belongings.

“Can you hold on a moment, please, Mr Porter,” the manager said. She started typing on the computer keyboard, studied the monitor, and did more typing before finishing with a tap of the enter button. She made a new keycard and handed it to the concierge. “Take Mr Porter to room 215, Charlie.” She turned to me, “Since you are staying with us for some time, I’ve upgraded you to a nicer room. Have a pleasant stay, sir.”