The speech wasn't easy to make, yet so simple because he'd just think of what Mickey might say. How would Danny act? A hundred angry grifters came to mind and collided with the notion that these two idiots could end this life he has made. He's conscious of Emma quivering next to him and he takes a deep breath. He never wanted to be the leader. For Mickey and for Albert, he'd happily step in and save the day but he didn't want the limelight all the time.
The risk he took comes back to him. He has had this chat with himself before and he is mindful he cannot take these chances with his life. Not now that he has responsibilities. Tiredness causes his head to lapse onto his chest, his eyes fluttering closed. They only spring awake when a gentle hand touches his arm. It's Albert, ever observant. Drinking the last of his whiskey, Ash slips from Eddie's and into the street.
The night chill coats his face and caresses him into wakefulness. There's a gentle rain that would ordinarily be irritating but feels like luxury after the fug of the bar and the heat of the spotlight. The drops slide over his face, down the crevices of a face he thinks is lived in yet seems to be loved. Onto the main street, it's a busy night and he has to swerve to avoid commuters heading down the tube like bees to a hive. It's a vision of a life that he most dreads. Ordinary. He'd happily settle for quiet. An apartment over the Thames or an isolated place in Surrey is vastly more appealing than working a routine.
The idea of being employed makes him smile it s so ridiculous. Who'd have him? He grins when he remembers someone indeed does want these times, like most nights, he doesn't sleep at the plush apartment they call home. Well, it's the group's home for the moment. Ash has no idea if they notice that his bedroom is merely a storage room for the vast collection of wires, tools and kit necessary to the fixer. He wonders, and not for the first time, if Albert woke him because he realised the younger man had a place to go. He s always on time for Mickey and the crew, if not for breakfast but shortly afterwards. Free from attention he can often slide away for a day or two between jobs. It's a strange parallel; they all seem to know so much about each other. He comforted Emma when her father died, seen Albert in dreadful pain and can read Mickey's face as well as his own. Yet they never ask where he goes in this other life. They know June died years ago.
He is tempted to light a fag. The old urge of a former habit never dies. Instead he hails a passing cab and gives into his new addiction. Sliding into the leather seats, he travels, not to the US as many might think but to St John's Wood. His heart races just as it might opening a fag packet or the height of a heist but with a positivity and anticipation he hasn't felt for years. He opens the white, portico fronted house with a legitimate swipe of a key card and strides through the grand entrance, up a vast staircase to the top floor flat and lets himself in.
This is his real home because it's where she lives. She folds into his arms as she always has done although a little harder now that the baby is growing, they think, is the biggest con. Each day they hope Danny won t appear because he will tell their friends that Stacie never went to the USA at all. The plane ticket was a fake conjured up from Ash s numerous and endless stash of forgeries. Instead she chose, as she had months before, to stay with Ash and lead a quieter life. Holding Stacie close, Ash is thankful that the wedding certificate and their love is genuine. Tomorrow he will tell his friends of their news and bring Stacie back but today is still theirs. In the meantime he has to explain to her why he has rope marks on his legs and a bruise on his ribs.