To electric violini, in all honesty I kind of agree with what you said about Ste being American, but for plot reasons he had to be. Bren is still Irish at least and Cheryl will still have an accent.
To the guest reviewer that asked about my other two stories, I'm still writing them. It's just that I don't currently have a charger for my laptop (and don't have the money to but a new one till payday) and all my notes and plot order are on my laptop.
Chapter 3
The ruckus being made by a woman begging to be let into the speak-easy was enough to draw Brendan's attention from his morning paper. He had been attempting to read an article on the shocking arrest of a local grocery store owner, for racketeering and extortion. However, every time he though the problem on the other side of the doors had been dealt with and resumed reading the piece depicting an arrangement of Brendan's own creation in order to remove a competitor, the shouting restarted.
During business hours there were always guards situated at the entrance to keep out the unseemly, this included Brendan's enemies, anyone suspected of being an covert police officers and of course the poor and under class. However, it was just past nine in the morning, the saloon had not yet opened its doors for business. The place was empty, bar Brendan, who every morning would sit with his morning coffee and the newspaper, enjoying a rare silent moment to himself.
With not a guards or henchman in sight, Christopher was left to placate the intoxicated woman alone, but was failing miserably. Brendan was sure by now every person in a one-mile radius knew the woman wanted access to the saloon to illegally obtain alcohol.
When he first arrived in New York and joined his sister in the bootlegging business Brendan had been told the cautionary tale of a restaurant that had accidently offered a group of Prohibition Agents – simply out for a relaxing meal - a bottle of scotch. Brendan had no intention of meeting the same fate, his clientele was closely monitored and controlled.
Of course, the police had their suspicion on what went on in the basement-bar of The Empire Hotel, but they could not arrest him on gossip and hearsay alone. But this, this could turn out to be a serious problem if the wrong people overheard, Brendan had to deal with the situation himself.
/
"Christopher."
"Mr Brady, Sir." The man grimaced, was hoping to get control of the situation before his employer became involved. "I'm sorry for the disruption to your morning routine."
"What seems to be the problem here?" Brendan questioned, unable to hide his irritation and impatience.
"From what I have be able to gathered from her incoherent slurs, Mrs Hay here would like to be served an alcoholic beverage. But as I have said a number of times, it is illegal to do so. This establishment does not partake in such activities." Christopher talked with such conviction - not an instant of hesitation, hitch in vocal-octave or waver in eye contact - that if Brendan didn't know better he would believe the man himself.
"Brendan, it's me, Pauline." The women says, grabbing ahold of him. "I just need a small drink, get me through the day and I'll be on my way."
'Great, an addict' Brendan thought to himself, just what he needed after such promising start to the day. He removed the woman's filthy hands from his crisp white shirt, trying to smooth it out and dust off the marks but it's no use, he'd have to change it.
"Oh, and she claims to know you, Sir." Christopher informed him sounding almost amused, rolling his eyes in disbelief.
"I do know him." The woman, Pauline, spits seemingly offended that anyone would dare doubt her. She spoke with the same conviction that Christopher had, and Brendan didn't know if he should believe her, but he believed she believed it.
"You do?"
"Yes, when you where just a little boy." She adopted a sweet voice, smiling now. "You used to spend the summers her, over from Ireland."
"What did you say your name was?" Brendan asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
"Pauline Hay. But, but I was Pauline Lomax back then. My late husband was the-"
"Concierge." He finished. "Yes I remember. Why don't you come in Mrs Hay? See if we can find you that drink."
/
When talks of a job came up Steven couldn't believe what he was hearing. First he was driven to Manhattan like one of the Princes' of England, and then given free rein over what was practically a banquet and now Brendan Brady is offering him a job.
Steven's original plans for today involved washing the kids dirty clothes and begging their landlord for an extra couple of days, a week maybe to pay that months rent. Then he was going to walk the streets looking for a new job, as he'd lost his job at the butchers after being caught taking home unwanted cuts of beef. He tried to reason with his boss, it wasn't stealing because the excess and old meat was to be thrown away. It was a waste, and he a family at home who would be happy to eat it, Mr Finnegan wasn't having any of it though, said Ste should think himself luck that he hadn't reported him to the coppers.
This must be his luck day, but Ste is notoriously unlucky. Good things don't happen to people like him for no reason. The only explanation is that Mr Brady has him confused with somebody else, a case of mistake identity.
Not wanting to take up anymore more of the man's time, Ste thanks Mr Brady for his hospitality. Tells the Irishman he must be mistaken, that he definitely has the wrong man. Brady assures Ste, he is the person he's been looking for - "looking for", as in actively seeking him out. Ste asks him why, why him? That's when Mr Brady tells him the story of his mother and how he had know his father.
The woman Mr Brady talks of is obviously a drunkard, loud and slurring her words. From what he can remember of his mother she is never not inebriated, even in the early hours, the woman in the story sounds like Paulin at least, but it doesn't answer all of Ste's questions.
Such as, why was it so important for Brady to find him? To offered him this job? What is the job? In fact it actually creates more questions, specifically questions about his father.
Ste doesn't know much about his old man, just what Pauline had told Him. He was a no good waste of space, was in with a gang and died, got himself shot. Leaving them with nothing, she always said they were better of with out him. Considering the hell he endured, growing up with Terry as his father figure, Ste had always found that hard to believe. But, if Brady knew his father, and he had worked for Mr Brady Senior then that must mean his mom was at least honest with him once. His father was a bad man, not the hero Ste had dreamt of as a child, saving him from Terry's clutches.
Ste wants to ask all these questions, but has been distracted for the last five minutes of Brady's story telling by the boy that has joined them. He is sat in the smaller of the two armchairs that are at the ends of the coffee table, Brady doesn't acknowledge his presence, just keeps talking as the teenager picks up a plate oh chocolate dessert and starts to eat, taking bites of different sandwiches between forkfuls of cake.
Ste remembers what Al had said, "Mr Brady's a reasonable man". The Irishman has been more than reasonable, offering food and easily forgiving Ste's accusations of kidnap. Al had also warned Ste, said something along the lines of: as long as it is just the two of you Ste would be safe, no the exact word he had used is fine. Surely, by 'fine' the bellhop had meant no harm would come to him.
They are no longer alone, there is a third person in the room, and there is something about the coldness in the boy's eye that makes Ste nervous. Perhaps he is overreacting Ste reassures himself, because he is in fact just a boy, younger than Ste, sixteen, seventeen at the most. However, definitely not one of the Brady children.
His clothing isn't right, it's clean and somewhat expensive, but obviously not specifically tailored to his body, not the outfit of a businessman's son. The suite is a muted, grey-green colour, he is wearing a waistcoat but no suit jacket and the pocket is carelessly bunched up, untidy, the heir to a hotel would not been seen in public like this. Ste inspects the boys work boots, similar to his own – newer and cleaner, yes – but it is just another oddity, for him not to be wearing dress shoes. This is when Ste sees the knife holster around the boy's ankle where his trouser leg as ridden up.
"Steven."
He hears Brady calling his name and realises the man voice is breaking the quiet, that they've most likely been sitting in silence for some time now.
"Steven?" The Irishman repeats.
Ste finally looks up, making uncomfortable eye contact with the unnamed boy, realising he has been caught staring at the blade and both men are now watching him. The boy looks from Ste to the knife, and then rests his leg up on the table so the knife is in full view, smirking. He knows now that this boy is the person that Al was talking about, that he should be wary on the boy's presence, regardless of his age.
"Do you have a driver's license?" Mr Brady asks.
Ste looks away from the weapon, as he looks at Mr Brady he finally registers what the man has asked and is confused. He is sure that if he had heard the end of the story the question would make a lot more sense.
"I can drive, yes." He answers hoping it's the right response. "In the past I was a delivery boy, so I have some experience driving."
"That is not what was asked." The youngster corrects. "The question was whether or not you have a license, to legally drive."
"Oh, no then."
"Before you can officially accept to position of my driver, you will have to obtain your license." Brendan informs him.
"It is of the upmost that we keep up the appearance of upholding the law, especially when it is being broken."
"Joel."
Brendan doesn't say anything else, just the tone in which he says the boys name makes it obvious that he is reprimanding him. But the boy is either brave or stupid, because he answer's back.
"What?" The boy asks, looking at Brendan defiantly. "I gather you trust him, I mean you're giving him a job, as your personal driver. He's either in or he's not."
A job as Brendan Brady's personal driver? Ste is dazed, still not entirely sure why he's being offered this job. His father worked here over sixteen years ago, and then his drunken mother made a nuisance of herself. When Brady had first mentioned a job this is not what Ste had expected, a kitchen porter, grounds keeper, bellhop even… but a driver for Mr Brady himself?
He can't even begin to imagine how much he's wage would be, more than he has earned before that's for sure. He can't wait to tell Amy of their good fortune, unable to suppress the smile at his face. Then he sees the distasteful look he is receiving from the young boy, Joel, and the smile fades.
Ste thinks of the Joel's earlier words, about Brady trusting him, and him being "in". Then it hits him, Brendan Brady is an Irish gangster and Ste will probably be witness to illicit activities on a daily basis. Brady's expecting, trusting him to keep his mouth shut, to the police and his enemies. In accepting this job Ste could be making himself a target, but he is not entirely sure he actually has any choice in the matter. To decline an offer of employment, to risk offending Brady, the leader of the Irish Mob could prove to be just as dangerous.
What do you guys think so far?