Clubtown Crossroads

Tom Hellberg

Description

This is a novel about trust. A club that everybody relies on has been closed because it is a front for a drugs operation and been busted. The drugs were supplied by a plethora of bands, mainly from Jamaica, coming over to the town. This story charts the lives of the various groups of individuals who either work there or come to listen to the music. The regulars attempt various ventures to take back control of their lives after the bust and find renewed strength in unity from the experience. The undercover police infiltration, which has closed the venue, is revealed for what it is after the faade has been exposed and is leaked to the press.

Informations

• Publié par: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Date de parution: 31 janvier 2020
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781528930628
• Langue: English

Extrait

Clubtown Crossroads
Tom Hellberg
Austin Macauley Publishers
2020-01-31
Clubtown Crossroads About the Author Dedication Copyright Information © Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 Chapter 51 Chapter 52 Chapter 53 Chapter 54 Chapter 55 Chapter 56 Chapter 57 Chapter 58 Chapter 59 Chapter 60 Chapter 61 Chapter 62 Chapter 63 Chapter 64 Chapter 65 Chapter 66 Chapter 67 Chapter 68 Chapter 69 Chapter 70 Chapter 71 Chapter 72 Chapter 73 Chapter 74 Chapter 75 Chapter 76 Chapter 77 Chapter 78 Chapter 79 Chapter 80 Chapter 81 Chapter 82 Chapter 83 Chapter 84 Chapter 85 Chapter 86 Chapter 87 Chapter 88 Chapter 89 Chapter 90 Chapter 91 Chapter 92 Chapter 93 Chapter 94 Chapter 95 Chapter 96 Chapter 97 Chapter 98 Chapter 99 Chapter 100 Chapter 101 Chapter 102 Chapter 103 Chapter 104 Chapter 105 Chapter 106 Chapter 107 Chapter 108 Chapter 109
About the Author
The author is a retired architectural draughtsman who has also worked as an advertising manager in Mind, Body, Spirit magazine. He has been involved in highlighting the need for action on climate change and a former member of the Eco Worriers, an environmentally concerned band.
Dedication
To all the characters I have met over the years.
Copyright Information ©
Tom Hellberg (2020)
The right of Tom Hellberg to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781528929707 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781528930628 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2020)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ
Chapter 1
Clive was traipsing down the leafy street back from the town centre. It had been a difficult week in Frackburgh. Preoccupied with his own thoughts he glanced around over the street. At that moment, an ex-army jeep drove by, its three-whip antennas waving in the spring wind on its khaki body. He recognised it straightaway. It belonged to Pablo Perez, the one and only club owner in town. He was on his way back to his base.
He had been there last Saturday night with Beth. The Omegaplex was Pablo’s pride and joy. It was also a source of some amusement and not a little concern in the small town. Beth had said that it reminded her of a working men’s club, which had been taken over by a yuppie.
The date had not, regrettably, gone to plan. They had gone to see a local group, the Boo Rey Kendrick, a new romantic revival band, who lived and believed that they were Frackburgh’s answer to Boy George and Jonathon Richmond. It had started well until the subject of Judd had come up.
Judd was his elder stepbrother. The son his father, Roy, never wanted him to meet; the quarrelsome brother who had bullied him ever since they had crossed paths. The brother who had come back to Frackburgh for god knows what reason.
‘Wheeler dealer used-car man, perhaps?’
Beth had reminded him that she was an orphan who had been brought up by Catholic nuns. Not a pleasant memory obviously.
Dad’s first marriage had hit the rocks and Judd had blamed him. His stepbrother had never accepted his new mother, Greta, and particularly a young nine-year-old Clive. It had been when he was four that his dad met Greta, far away in Scarborough. He had been too young to understand the divorce but he had felt the pain. Greta had her own daughter, a teenager called Louise, from a previous relationship. Whereas he had found this new step-mum loving and missed his own mother, Judd was a moody thirteen-year-old, who was always pushing the boundaries.
Four years later and after many crossed words, his brother had suddenly appeared, out of nowhere, back in his town. His dad, Roy, and especially his step-mum, Greta, were mystified as well. Now, his dad was disabled, it had certainly not been out of compassion – a quality he did not understand. Beth, who often worked behind the bar, seemed to know him well. That upset him even more, as he had the hots for her.
When he had started school, it was right here in Frackburgh, he had put down roots for life and gone on to study at the Fraisier Academy. He had even picked up the ancient sport of curling at the ice rink in Edinburgh. Now, this unwelcome harbinger from the dark past threatened to engulf him. It jarred with his newfound romance. He had only recently been going to watch bands and he was excited by the music he heard. His guitar playing had improved as he watched the other musicians.
Next weekend, they were due to see a real Jamaican dancehall band, Yellowman, inspiration to none other than Bob Marley himself. Yellowman (for there were five of them) were apparently on their way over the border to England to tour and would be doing their warm-up gig right here. This really was a coup for the town. Beth had told him last week that more ska bands were on the way from overseas and she would be on the bar.
‘Mind you,’ she said, ‘I am not in favour of all these foreigners coming into town for all this adulation.’
He remembered those words; he hated racism.
He could not begin to imagine how Pablo had pulled the Omegaplex off, but they were flying into Edinburgh airport from Kingston, perhaps it was some budget airline deal. Their first English gig was here, in Frackburgh, of all places. The town’s castle was on the tourist circuit and a network of bed and breakfasts thrived in the summer months.
So on that day, he was not in the best of moods, he might as well turn around and go back to the club which seemed to him, in this town, to be at the route of all things good and bad, so he turned on his heel and crossed the road.
Chapter 2
He strolled into the bar of the Omegaplex. At this time in the afternoon, it was virtually empty. Pablo himself was cleaning glasses behind the bar. Dire Straits was playing on the jukebox.
‘Hello, son, back for some more music?’ he quipped.
‘I’ll settle for a beer.’ He looked around – the venue had been converted from a working men’s club, Beth was right about that. The music was performed downstairs, the bar up here. It had a marble bar top, a laminate backset, optics in some hammered metallic pattern with mirrors and video screens. It would not have looked out of place in a central London sports bar, but it was upmarket for Frackburgh. How had Pablo done it? Yes, it filled up at weekends that was true, but on the weekdays, well, there were only five people here now.
In the corner, a young couple were deep in conversation. At the bar, a downbeat guy stared down at his almost empty glass. It looked like life was his personal problem. Another guy was on his computer, doing something to the satellite TV box.
‘I’m looking forward to Yellowman,’ Clive said.
‘You can see on our Facebook page,’ volunteered Pablo. ‘I’m live streaming him, so he will be there for posterity.’
‘How did you get the copyright for that?’ Clive asked.
‘I don’t bother with that, he is only performing in Frackburgh after all.’
‘Oh that’s fantastic, Pablo,’ replied Clive and thought to himself, one day I will organise something here myself .
‘I’m finding my guitar playing is really coming on by listening to these bands,’ Clive said. ‘I feel at home in this place. Thank you, Pablo.’
They exchanged a smile.
Chapter 3
Judd was in no mood to answer the door. He was pretty sure Anya was his visitor, judging by the “rap rap” of her knuckles on the door and the barking of her hound, Igor the husky. It was early evening and he had just made tea. Anya was a Russian yuppie, who had come up from London the year before. She was a very needy woman about five years older than Judd.
He looked through the window – yes, it was Anya all right. There was a steely coldness in those blue Russian eyes. Had she come from the bookies? He cracked open the door and greeted her with little enthusiasm. ‘You should have rung me first, I’m just sitting down to eat.’
‘Comrade, I do apologise. I will take a glass with you.’
Judd responded, ‘You better come in.’
Igor the husky followed and settled, paws forward on the carpet. The humans sat down. The bedsit was tiny, a little dingy, and pretty untidy. Anya took the sofa, stretching out her long legs. Judd sat down at his two-seater table and tucked into his stew.
‘You haven’t been gambling again, have you?’ Anya was notorious for a flutter but generally seemed to lose more than she ever won. Anya scowled.
‘What brings you here?’ Judd added, ‘You can have a vodka, though.’
Anya considered the offer and nodded and responded, ‘I have a business proposition for you.’
Judd stopped mid-mouthful and thought, now what?
‘I thought you would be interested in a partnership, comrade Judd. We could both benefit from Russian sources of funding I have in London. You could be living in style, Judd,’ she said, looking around the four cheerless walls, which barely seemed to exist. It was difficult to believe that anyone actually lived in this flat. It had two rooms in all, sparsely furnished with a limp sofa and a few chairs. She acce