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7th May 2014
“Is that it then, love?” the middle-aged woman behind the cash till enquired.
“Yeah, just the chicken wrap and a decaf to go.”
“The healthy option,” she said and they smiled at each other.
Sliding his empty tray in with the others, he started his walk back to the canteen entrance when he heard: “Degsy!”
Someone was waving at him from a table in the far corner. The figure got up and came towards him.
“Terry!” Degsy said as they shook hands. “Sorry, mate, I didn’t see you when I came in.”
“Not a problem, Degs,” Terry replied. “How’s things? Still enjoying MIT?”
Degsy nodded. “Yeah, still enjoying it. What about you?” he asked, looking Terry’s suit up and down as he stood in front of him. “Uniform a thing of the past?”
“I’d like to think so, mate,” Terry grinned. “SB now, you know! Out at the Airport.”
“So what brings you to Fantasy Island?” Degsy asked, using the Forcewide nickname for Headquarters.
“Oh, my oppo just had to pop in to drop something off and have his appraisal with the Chief Super. Not much point in hanging around the office. I’m the new boy. No one’ll tell me fuck all, so I thought I’d just grab a coffee. It’s handy I saw you, actually. I gave you a bell the other day, but you were out.”
“Why, what’s up?” Degsy asked as he gave a quick wave to another former colleague at a table some distance away.
“Guess who I saw last week?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Nicks!” He saw the lack of recognition. “Chris Nickson! You were asking me about him a while back.”
“Oh! Chris Nickson. Yeah.” Outwardly he appeared calm but inside Degsy felt a strange combination of interest, excitement and concern. “How’s he doing?”
“Good, so he tells me. Saw him at the airport. I told him you’d been asking after him and he sends his regards. Still living in Berlin, lucky sod.”
“Really!” was all Degsy could manage at this point.
“Yeah. He’s looking well. Still sporting the beard. Gives him a distinct middle eastern look, I think. I was just glad he wasn’t wearing a fuckin’ rucksack!” Terry laughed.
“Did he say what he was doing there?” Degsy asked casually. “Picking someone up, I presume?”
Terry nodded, breaking off to speak to another suit who’d approached them. “I’m sitting over there, Dave. Give us two minutes and I’ll be with you.” The suit smiled and wandered off. “Sorry, Degs. Well, he was the first time I saw him. Now, last time, he said he was there buying a ticket for his German mate. I suppose that’s who he was waiting for the first time.”
Degsy was intrigued. “So you saw him twice?”
“Yeah. Same week, funnily enough. First time I saw him he was coming in.” Terry flashed a mischievous grin before continuing. “So I sidled up to him, gripped his arm and said, dead official-like, ‘Would you mind coming this way, Sir?’ He nearly shat himself! Funny as fuck!”
Degsy managed to force what he hoped would at least pass for a chuckle, then enquired, “So his er... his mate’s name? Did he mention it? It’s just I met a German mate of his once, years ago. Nice bloke. Name’s on the tip of my tongue, just can’t get it.”
“What are you like with names, mate!” Terry laughed, looked thoughtful then triumphantly exclaimed: “Dieter Ackermann! That’s who his mate was. I’ll tell you why I remember. I knew a bloke with the same name, years ago. Well, not exactly the same name because that would’ve been spooky. No, his name was Rudi, owned a bar. Great fellah.”
Terry’s mind worked a bit like a neon scrolling information sign in a Travel Agent’s window. Sometimes the next piece of information was connected to the previous, often it was the beginning of a whole new thing.
Knowing this, Degsy clarified. “So, it was Dieter Ackermann who was Nicks’s mate, not the bar owner?”
“Yeah, spot on!” Terry replied.
“No, doesn’t ring any bells,” Degsy said, shaking his head in fake bewilderment.
“And I’ll tell you how I know,” Terry continued. “I saw the surname on the ticket he was holding and said to him ‘That wouldn’t be for a bloke called Rudi Ackermann, would it? ‘cause he’s a good bloke and handy to know’, and he said, ‘No, his name’s Dieter’ and then, of course,” he paused and gave a shrug of his shoulders. “I had to explain the whole Rudi thing blah, blah, blah!”
His oppo approached waving his mobile, “We’re needed down the Ferry Terminal.”
Terry nodded, looking apologetically at Degsy. “Sorry, Degs, got to go. Anyway, great to see you again, mate. Give us a bell at the Airport and we’ll go for a pint sometime.”
“Yeah, no problem,” Degsy replied. After a moment he called after him. “Terry, just out of interest. What was the airline?”
“Easyjet, matey. If you’re thinking of trying to catch him and his mate at the airport for a pint, you’ll have to be quick. The flight’s sometime tonight. Six o’clock, I think.” With that, Terry waved and disappeared into the depths of the stairwell.