Read R.I.P Robbie Silva for Free Online Page B

his head and left the room.
    ' Thanks, my friend, much appreciated, ' said Silva. ' Now, we can have ourselves a nice old chat, eh? ... One old lag to another. '
    The mug of tea was hot; I placed it on the arm of the chair. I wondered where Silva was going with all this. I mean, I ' d dragged his daughter – nah – let ' s get this straight, she ' d dragged me, into a daylight robbery situation. Either way, we ' d had a close call. Silva was looking like a bit of a player; I couldn ' t see him being happy about my involvement with his daughter. I could expect a good kicking ... if I was lucky.
    I bolded it: ' Look, what the fuck is this? '
    Silva leaned back, crossed his legs. I noticed he wore white sports socks with his suit; so you can take the crook out the east-end but not the other way about. Figured. He crossed his fingers, tried to look like he was starring in some fucking gangster movie or other. He might have been big time, but I ' d seen it all before.
    ' I hear you just got out of the shovel, ' said Silva.
    I hated the way these Londoners used that fucking rhyming-slang. But they were all the same. ' And? '
    He uncrossed his legs, leaned over. ' What ' d you do? '
    ' Got caught. '
    He laughed, sat back. Christ, he was easily pleased. It unnerved me that I was getting on so well with him. He clearly wanted something; either that or he was very grateful I ' d got his daughter out of a tight spot.
    ' I ' ve done my fair share of time in the shovel. '
    I saw where this was going; cue the macho-boasts. I played up to him. ' Yeah? '
    ' I did a stretch in Albany on the Isle of White in the eighties, fucking hard stretch ... was stabbings every other day of the week back then. Not like these cushy fucking hotels they put you up in these days. '
    I looked out the window, toyed with the idea of sparking up a tab.
    He went on, ' So, what I ' m saying is ... we ' ve both been around. '
    I took out my snout, started to tap on the box. Silva got the message.
    ' Anyway, my point is, I hear you done good today. You got my girl out a tight spot. You ' re obviously not some ten-bob blagger. '
    I put the tab in my mouth, lit it. The smoke escaped in a long thin trail towards the ceiling. I watched it for a second or two then turned back to Silva. ' And ... let me guess, you might be able to put a bit of work my way? '
    He leaned back again, crossed fingers. He had a bit of a gut on show as he spoke, ' Well, likely as not I can put some work your way and it ' d be good work. I ' m stone ginger on that. '
    ' Y ' wha– ? '
    ' What I ' m saying is it would be proper work. Not just bread and butter. '
    I played him. ' No thanks. '
    ' Now, hold on, don ' t be hasty. Be a good few shekels in it for you. I ' m known on this manor, ask about. '
    I huffed, said, ' No thanks. '
    His eyes widened; the rims were red. ' Are you fucking mugging me off? '
    I took another drag on my tab, exhaled. ' Fact of the matter is, mate, I ' ve seen how your daughter operates, and you know what they say ... the apple doesn ' t fall far from the tree. '
    I ' d given Silva a choice: he could go postal, put a heavy threat on me, or put a lid on that temper of his. I didn ' t think he had it in him. I watched as he took breath, narrowed his eyes and looked out into the street. ' Is that a fact, Jed Collins? See, I did a bit of research into your background and I ' m sure you wouldn ' t like to be punting a similar philosophy there. '
    I got out my seat, had the arm hooked ready to land one in his puss; he rose fast, fronted me. The smile was back. ' Have a think about what I said, lad. '
    I eyeballed him. He kept a stare on me too as he dipped in his pocket and removed a card with his number on it.
    I took the card but my mind was awash with old images, thoughts. I wanted to smart-mouth him back. But, he had me.
    As Silva walked through the door he touched his brow. ' Thanks for the cuppa. '

    * * * *

    I was still standing in the middle of the living room floor