Page 85 of What's the time, Mr. Wolfe
Then I felt awkward. Tony came and sat next to me.
“Thank you,” he said, smiling. “He’s much nicer when you’re around.”
“I’m not sure what you have to thank me for. But... well, thanks.”
“This is my number, programme it in your phone, please. I’ll drop you back to your house, then, when you’re ready to be collected, call me. If you need me in the meantime, you must call. Got it?”
“You always as bossy as him?” I asked.
“Notalways, mostly... yes. It’s not worth the headache if I don’t do what he asks.”
I thought it a strange thing to say, and I wasn’t sure if it was a joke or not, but I didn’t press.
“I’ll grab my phone, and then I’m ready. Well, I’m not, but you know what I mean.”
“I don’t, sorry. Haven’t had anyone die that I didn’t hate. It must be really strange.” It was a genuine response, I believed. I paused from heading out of the kitchen.
“Did you not know your parents, either?”
He shook his head. “No, I was put in a home as a baby. Seb was about three years old, I think, when he was given up. Not that he’d remember his mother.”
“Have either of you ever tried to find them?”
“I did, once. Back when I was in my teens. My case is fairly straightforward, single teenage Catholic mother. No choice but to give me up. It was a Catholic home we were put in, so that suggests his mother was Catholic as well.” He chuckled, not that I thought anything was funny. “Catholic, huh? Worst bastards in the world when it comes to being Christian.”
His voice changed so rapidly, from jolly to utter hatred, it gave me shivers. I nodded, not knowing what to say, and left the room.
I took a moment to sit on the bed after I’d picked up my phone and put on my boots. Tony reminded me of a psychopath. Not that I’d met many, or any for that matter. But him going from laughing to an almostimmediate switch of anger? I think I’d have hated to have gotten on the wrong side of him.
I made my way back down and Tony was waiting by the front door. I smiled as I passed him and walked to the car. He held the rear door open.
“Can I sit up front? And what type of car is this?” I asked.
“Sure. And it’s a Bentley,” He closed the door and opened the front one.
He drove in a more sedate manner than Sebastian, and it was nice to actually see what we drove passed.
“How are you managing Seb?” Tony asked, as he concentrated on pulling out of a junction.
“Managing him?” I had no idea what he meant.
“He’s a difficult person. I know he’ll tell you his story in time, but he was the most abused of us all. It affected him badly, still does.”
“I imagine it affects you all, and for life,” I replied.
“Some of us cope differently. Most of us work for him, did you know that?”
I remembered the ex-cons and the homeless Mike talked about. “I think there was a reference to that when I started. I didn’t understand, though.”
I wondered how Sebastian would feel with Tony telling me things perhaps he didn’t want me to know.
“It must be nice for him to have you as a friend,someone who understands what he went through,” I said.
“And sometimes it’s a curse. We remind each other of our trauma. Every day he walks in that office, and when he sees us all he really sees are the children he tried to shield from the monsters.”
I found it interesting that he’d used the same words as Sebastian when referring to the perpetrators.
“How did he try to shield them?”
