Restored

"Something happened, that is why you left?"

"Something happened all right. I just finished restoring my dad's Yamaha XJ 650 Maxim. I rushed back into the house to tell everyone to come and see the motorbike, on reaching the kitchen I overheard Jane ask mum, how long I will be staying, that she is embarrassed to invite her friends around, and what was I doing in the garage every night? I slowly went upstairs, put my clothes in a bag. Grabbing my leather jacket, with the bag in hand, I went downstairs straight to the kitchen. As soon as Jane saw me, she stopped talking, Chris decided to look at his shoes, and poor mum opened her mouth, but nothing came out. I asked them to walk with me to the garage, on opening the garage door I pointed both my hands toward the Yamaha while looking at my sister. "That is what I was doing in the garage sis." Strapping the bag on the bike then climbing onto the saddle I pressed the start button. The engine came to life with a roar. Slowly rolling the bike next to mum I reached over kissing her on the cheek. "Sorry for everything mum." Put it in gear I rode off. That happened the day I met you, Patsy."

She just sat there rubbing Billy's ear, just looking at me. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it.

That's when I spoke. "Don't worry you don't have to say anything. I'll pack my bags and leave. I understand if you don't want me around, who wants a killer working for them."

Quickly getting up she started shaking her head from left to right saying. "No, no, no! You got me wrong I wasn't thinking that."

"Patsy you don't have to feel sorry for me."

"Feel sorry for you, I don't feel sorry for you. What happened to you was the worst thing that could happen to someone. You lost your father at the age where you was vulnerable emotionally. You made mistakes and paid for your mistakes. Now is the time to start over, to stop feeling sorry for yourself."

"What do I do know?"

"You can start by helping me clean up all these dishes. " pointing to the table we had breakfast. "Then we can do some deep cleaning since were closed today."

Filling the tray with all the plates on the table, I turned to Patsy I said. "Thank you."

"Can we hurry I would like to finish before it get's dark. I want people to see me when you take me for a ride on your beast."

When I turned to look at her, she was grinning from ear to ear.

Chapter 3

Life was good in Lemsford Village after Patsy, and I got everything off our chest. If she had any ideas to improve the Inn, she would come to me first for my opinion as well. She would try to teach me everything there is to know about running an Inn. On quiet days she trained me to cook, A different dish every time. Billy and I would take long walks along River Ley like I mentioned before that dog loved the outdoors, It also gave Patsy some breathing space from both of us.

The locals in the village started to accept me in the community. After the incident, we had back in May on the day of the show, with the three guys. When the locals heard me talk to them in cockney, they decided to give me a nickname. Guess what that was, Cockney. It was four old gentlemen who gave me the nickname they came daily to the Inn. Patsy would always say. "Those four old timers pay your salary between them every month, look after them."

Late one afternoon after the rush hour we had during lunch time. I was wiping down the tables. Getting nearer to the table with our four regulars, I could hear them whispering to each other. When I got near their table, they stopped talking.

"What are you four up to now? Thought of a new nickname for me?"

Bob the one that always spoke for the group said. "Ryan's going to have a visitor. She's coming to stay with him in a couple of weeks. He wanted to ask if you could have a look at a car? He hasn't started it for some years. It won't even turnover.

The others are always talking and joking with me, Ryan he's the grumpiest of the group. I guess you always get a grumpy one in the gang. "You want me to have a look at it for you Ryan?" I said to him.

"It's Mr Tate to you young man," He replied.

"Sorry Mr Tate, how is Sunday Morning for you, I can have a look at it then. If I need anything, I can drop in Halfords to buy parts before they close, so that I can complete it the same day.

"Ok."

"I'll get Patsy to give me your address." I carried on cleaning the other tables near them. The other three were moaning at him for the way he spoke to me when I was trying to help.

Sunday I was up early, decided to do some household chores before I headed to Mr Tates house. It was almost 10 am when I left the apartment. He lived on Brocket Road, a part of the village I hadn't visited yet. At the end of Lemsford Village Road, I was waiting for for the road to clear to turn left, that's when I spotted some people going to the St John's Church. Parking the bike, I went inside. The church was almost full, finding a place near the back I sat down. The priest was speaking to his congregation. I sat there for a while saying my prayers, for my family, Dave who lost his life, prayed for his family, finished with a prayer for peace in the world.

It was 11 am when I arrived at Mr Tates house, or should I call it a mansion. I don't have much knowledge about property prices, but I can assure you this one was over the million mark. It was Victorian built with soft Coddington Gold bricks. The entrance reminded me of the entry of the church I just visited. Ringing the door bell, I stood back.

I waited for a couple of minutes, seeing no one answered, I started to make my way back to my bike. Suddenly a voice came from behind. "You was supposed to come in the morning. It's almost midday now. But what do you younger generation know about keeping schedules?" He was standing there at the entrance with his hands crossed.

"Sorry Mr Tate, I would have come earlier, but on the way here I saw St John's Church was open. I stopped since I haven't been to church for a long time. Sorry again for keeping you waiting, we can arrange another time to do the car," Picking up my helmet from the seat I was about to slide it over my head.

"You're here now, come inside you might as well look at the God damn thing."

The inside of the house was beautiful. It was like walking into another era. All the furnishings were like new, not a single item was out of place. "You have a lovely house, Mr Tate," I said to him as we made our way through to the kitchen leading into the garage.

"Don't touch anything!" he replied in not such a pleasant voice.

Entering the garage, I was like a child released in a candy store. In front of me was one of the best cars made by British Leyland. "It's a 1972 MG Midget Mk III, where have you been hiding this baby?"

"My niece is coming to stay with me for the summer. She just passed her driving test a couple of months ago. I want to surprise her, if you can get it going she will have something to get around. But it's been sitting here for nearly ten years."

"I can look at it. Where do you keep your tools so that I can get started?" He opened a cabinet, inside was every tool you can think of, even had a battery starter, which I would need later on.

He went back inside appearing a few minutes later with a mechanics overall for me. "Put this on. When you finish take it off, I don't want you getting everything dirty when you leave." Then disappeared back in the kitchen.

"What is it with him, such a grumpy old man," I thought. I was working on the engine for nearly two hours. All the filters and spark plugs needed changing, but a good clean would be enough for now. I found some carburettor and petrol pump seals in a draw, something that had to get change if we were going to get this car started.

I was under the car, screwing back the sump oil drain plug. I was startled by a loud thump causing me to bump my head on the sump. "Fuck!" I shouted.

"There is no need for that kind of language. I told Bob this was all a bad idea." Turning I saw Mr Tate's feet; he was making his way back to the kitchen.

"You know what I don't need this hustle. Two hours I've been working on this car, and you didn't even ask me if I would like a cup of tea or coffee. I'll put everything back together. You can get a mechanic to have a look at it!" Saying every word loud so he can hear me.

Refilling it with the engine oil, just In case, the mechanic decided to start it without checking. Cleaning all the tools before putting them back in the cupboard. Taking off the disposable gloves, I threw them in a plastic bag with some oily rags I used. With my voice raised, I said. "I'm going to go now when I get the overall washed and ironed I'll bring it back!"

He appeared with two mugs of coffee at the entrance of the garage. "I want to apologise for the way I acted." He said

Taking one of the coffee mugs from him, I took a sip. Do you want to do the honours of starting the MG?" I said

Looking at me then the car, he walked up to the side and just stared at the engine. "It's been years since this car has seen daylight. Ever since...!"

"Ever since what Mr Tate." I connected the battery starter to the mains then to the car battery. "Eventually you will need a new battery, as this one will not hold a charge. Do you have an empty can, so that I can get some petrol out of the bike?"

"There is a green metal container in the back, where the other vehicle is. There should be some petrol in it."

Going to the back, I was looking around for the container. Finding it, I grabbed it, making my way back to the MG I noticed a rip on the cover of the other vehicle. The rip on the canvas exposed part of the wing, showing a distinctive sign only one car brand has. Walking back to the MG, I opened the petrol cap emptying the container into the petrol tank while staring at the covered car.

"Shall I try to start her up?" He said. Snapping out of my dream, I turned to see Mr Tate sitting in the driver's seat. With his hand on the key, ready for my go ahead to turn it.

"Let her rip," I said

The engine turned a few times, but nothing happened.

"With the key turned showing the ignition lights, pump the acceleration pedal a few times then try again," I said

He tried a couple of times without any success. "I told you it died when my son.....!" He said banging his hands on the steering wheel.

"let me have a go." Getting ready to get out of the car I said. "No, stay there, just pump the accelerator a couple of times when I turn the key."

Vroom, Vroom, Vroom. The engine came to life. Revving the motor a few times, he then turned the ignition off. When he got out of the car, he put his hand on my shoulder, he said. "Thank you for getting it started."

"Mr Tate we got the engine going, but that doesn't mean that you can drive it. It still needs a lot of work. The brakes have seized up. You're looking at four new tyres, and god knows what else we'll need for the engine for it to pass the MOT. You are looking at over two thousand pounds. I will make a list of what you need, I can get the items, or you can order them yourself if you don't trust me. Regards labour, I'll leave that to you how much you give me when I finish. Also, you said the car is for your niece who will arrive in two weeks. I will need two Sundays to do the job." After I had explained everything to him, I could see his expression, he was thinking about it.

Putting one finger up in the air, he said. "Can you excuse me for one minute." Then he just walked back into the house. He came back a few moments later. It seemed he was talking to someone on his mobile. "I don't care how you make it happen. I want that garage door fixed before next weekend!" Cutting off the line before the other person could say anything.

"Sorry about that Steve, but that door has been like that for some time. I paid for the repair, but with problems I had, never chased it up." Putting his hand in his pocket, he pulled out a folded piece of paper handing it over to me. "I've written you a cheque for two thousand pounds if you need more let me know." Putting out his hand to give me a firm handshake. "We have two weekends until my niece comes. Do we have a deal?"

"It's a deal, Mr Tate."

I stayed a while longer, explaining to him what work I will be doing on the car and why. "It was for the smooth running of the car, for it to pass the MOT but mostly for it to be safe on the road," I explained to him.

He walked with me outside, before leaving, I said. "In the back of the garage, you've got a car covered." Before I could say anything else, he put his hand up to stop me.

He said. "Your work is on the MG, whatever is under that cover is out of bounds. Your job is to get the MG road worthy." Then turned, heading back to the house.

I just stood there staring as he closed the door behind him, wondering what I said wrong.

Chapter 4

When I got up on Monday morning, all the commotion about restoring a car brought back memories of my time in prison. Standing by the window looking outside, I could see the countryside as far as the eye could see, something I couldn't do when I was inside. In prison it was wall to wall concrete, my cell had a small window which was barred. To look outside you had to put a chair to stand on to be able to see anything.

Prison life for me wasn't too bad. It was a learning curve in my life. Don't get me wrong it wasn't a holiday camp. Who wants to be locked up in a cell all night, and during the day to monitored on everything you did. Most of the inmates were ok. They just wanted to do their time and get out. You also had the once that wanted to control the prison. Most of the inmates had to pay these groups or gangs. They called it protection money. I was lucky no one ever asked me for protection money. I believe this is due to my cell mate Barry.

Barry was inside for life. He wasn't going to see the prison walls from the outside in this lifetime. Rumours have it he's killed some men, some Underworld related figures from the 80's. He was in his late 50's, a big man, not overweight but fit, would get up every morning to exercise, I guess that is where I picked up the habit. In here he was respected by not only the inmates but also the officers including the warden.

When I first met Barry, he didn't introduce himself to me. He said a handful of words which I will always cherish. "You do your time and get out of here lad. You have a lifetime ahead of you."

I started working in the prison workshop where Barry was in charge. I believe he pulled a few strings, for me to be there. Like I said earlier, a lot of rumours about Barry when he was on the outside. For me, Barry was my learning curve in life. He taught me to respect everyone in life. Right or wrong each person does something for a reason. Doing my time, I was out of line on many occasions. He was always there to guide me down the right road.

The knowledge I have about motor vehicles today is from Barry. In the workshop we had Maggie, that is what we called her. It was a Rover P 3500S, the car the police used in the late 70's early 80's in the UK. It was a two-tone armour plated vehicle with a V8 engine. In her era as Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher spent a lot of her time in the back seat of one of these Rovers.

Together we stripped Maggie to the chassis. Explaining to me how every part of the car worked. Taking things apart then putting them back together. He would then make me take the whole engine apart, for weeks I would struggle to put it back together. When I got frustrated and gave up, he would say. "Do you have something better to do, maybe a prior engagement with some hot blondie?" Once I learnt about the mechanics of a car, we then started on the car body. I thought he had superhero vision. He would see ripples on the car panels that looked perfect at first for me. On closer inspection, I started seeing them as well. I learnt to bolt body panels back on the chassis like they had never been removed. For weeks I would rub down a bonnet and respray it. Rub it down again then respray it. I would do this until I had the perfect finish. Then I would spend a whole day until it was perfectly aligned when I bolted back to the car.

The day I was going to be released I said to Barry. "I will never forget you. I came to prison a teenager, and I am leaving a man. You have been a father figure to me." Embracing him, not letting him go.

When I released him from the bear hug, I gave him. Wiping his eyes, with the back of his hand he said. "What are you doing? Are you trying to destroy my reputation? Get out of here and forget about me, just remember what I taught you." Giving me a light punch on the shoulder before I left. Walking down the corridor, he shouted. "Enjoy life to the full son!"

Every month I send him a pack of two-hundred Dunhill International cigarettes with a note attached to the package. "Send my regards to my girlfriend, Maggie."

Returning to present day I jumped into the shower. After having breakfast, I went online to see what parts I could find for the MG. I found most of the parts on Ebay, avoiding any pattern parts, preferring to buy second-hand parts which were in good condition or new parts. I wanted to use the funds I had to prepare the car to be roadworthy, whatever money was left over I could use on the bodywork.

By midday, I was downstairs helping Patsy set up the buffet for lunch. At 2 pm my four favourite customers strolled in, sitting at their favourite table I went over to take their orders. Mr Tate today seemed very talkative, at some stage Bob said to him. "My god man let someone else speak."

They stayed for a couple of hours playing bridge, Bob winning again like always. As they were leaving, I called Mr Tate over to have a quick word with him. "Mr Tate I have ordered some part's which are arriving in a couple of days. I gave your forwarding address if that's ok?"

"Yes, that will be ok." He replied.

"Also I wanted to ask you, will it be ok to come in the morning to do some work on the car, until midday when I start here?"

Putting his hand on my shoulder, he said. "Son I was going to ask you the same thing if you wanted to come during the week, but I didn't want to pressure you with too much work."

Next day I was around Mr Tate's house, knocking on the door at 9 am. Started work on the car straight away, dismantling the parts I was going to refurbish. Good thing I brought some WD40 with me as I had a little difficulty unscrewing some of the bolts.

With a cup of coffee in his hand, Mr Tate approached me. "Everything ok Steve? You seem to be struggling a bit there?"

"It's ok these bolts just need a bit of elbow grease."

When I finished what I was doing, he handed me the coffee. We talked a while about me and how I ended up in Lemsford. I was thinking; he'll find out sooner or later, I might as well tell him about myself. He listened to me nodding his head up and down every so often. Once I got everything off my chest, I just sat there looking at him, waiting for his reaction.

"Thank you, Steve for been honest with me. Not a lot of people would mention about doing time, especially to someone they hardly know." He started to rub his chin, then put his hand in his pocket. Revealing a mini remote control, he pressed it in the middle. The garage door started to open. "At last the doors been fixed." He said.

With the carburettor in my hand, I started walking to the entrance, inspect the part closer to the light. Wondering at the same time if Mr Tate wants me to leave. If that is the reason, he opened the garage door. Feeling his presence behind me, I turned to face him.

"Steve this remote is for you." Showing me how it worked. "Finish off what you are doing, I'll make a quick omelette for us."

I worked until 11 am, then joined Mr Tate for breakfast. Went home had a quick shower, I was downstairs by midday, getting the buffet ready for lunch, then dinner, finishing just before midnight with my last order of drinks. I went like this for two weeks like clockwork, only getting eight hours every day for myself and that was to sleep during the night.