With the bag of money on his lap, Alfie held on to his chair, squeezing it hard as the projector threw the image of Barry onto the massive screen at the far end of the barn.
He watched and listened, hearing Barry talk – the first time he had done since the court case all those years ago.
Barry waved and grinned as he sat in what Alfie thought looked like an empty room, purring with pleasure as he FaceTimed the awaiting crowd of bidders. ‘Pleased so many of you could make it. As you know I haven’t been around for a while. I was a bit busy, you know what her majesty’s like – likes to take her time, likes to do things at her pleasure. Twenty-two years of fucking pleasure!’
The crowd laughed while Alfie paled, trying to keep his shaking to a minimum whilst Barry continued to talk. ‘Anyway, I’m delighted to be back, and I’m hoping that I’m going to be around for a while this time. You’ll be seeing a lot more of me … and my products.’
The crowd broke out into applause and Alfie bit down so hard on his lips that he could taste the blood in his mouth.
‘Anyway, enough of my chat, gentlemen – let the bidding begin. But before we do, I’m sure you want to see exactly what your hard-earned money is going to buy. Am I right?’
A resounding cry of, ‘Yes, yes, show us!’ was heard around the room.
Barry grinned and from the side of him and off camera, he pulled Taylor into shot.
On seeing Taylor, seeing his haunting, bewildered eyes look out at the crowd, look out at him, the bilious, nauseous sensation engulfed Alfie again. He rubbed his eyes, wiping the sweat that had trickled down into them away, and he fought the urge to run.
Barry, chuckling, and still holding on to Taylor’s arm, said, ‘Whoever is the lucky winner, let me tell you, you won’t go wrong with this product. Quiet and no trouble at all. And the best thing, gentlemen, is that the original owner of this product is comfortable with the deal. It’s a clean slate, so once it’s yours it’s yours. In other words, no one will be looking for it. So, with that in mind, who wants to start the bidding? Any takers for fifteen thousand?’
‘Fifteen here!’ A man Alfie couldn’t see properly raised his hand over in the far corner.
‘Twenty-five!’ A louder shout from the front caused the crowd to titter with laughter as he waved both hands in the air enthusiastically.
The room fell silent causing Barry to intervene. ‘Come on, twenty-five grand – that’s a giveaway.’
‘Fifty.’
A couple sitting in the shadows raised their hands and Barry giggled. ‘Now that’s more like it. Do I hear sixty?’
A large fat man, who was as well dressed as Rupert, raised his hand. He spoke with a Scottish accent. ‘Here, I’ll offer sixty.’
Rupert who was bouncing on his seat with delight and sitting next to Alfie, suddenly shouted, ‘One hundred thousand pounds!’
Around the room, oohs and ahhs were heard, and Rupert, smelling of expensive aftershave, smugly leant over to Alfie and whispered in delight, ‘I reckon he’s mine. I know none of this lot will go that high. I tell you what, when I pick him up, you can come with me if you like, have a bit of fun.’
He squeezed Alfie’s leg then winked at him to which Alfie said, ‘No thanks, mate, and I’d appreciate it if you’d get your fucking hand off me. Wouldn’t want it broken, would we?’
Rupert’s face drained of colour. He looked taken aback and retreated into his seat.
‘So, at a hundred thousand pounds, going once, going twice,’ Barry shouted out to the crowd.
‘One hundred and fifty!’ Alfie’s voice boomed out as he waved his hand in the air and from the corner of his eye, he could see Rupert looking agitated, an expression of fury on his face.
Rupert called out, ‘Two hundred thousand.’ He side-glanced Alfie with a sneer.
‘Two hundred and fifty.’
As Barry’s face was projected on the screen it was clear to Alfie that Barry couldn’t believe his luck.
‘Three hundred thousand!’
‘Three-fifty!’ Alfie shouted again, hoping Rupert would back down, desperate for him to.
‘Four hundred thousand!’
Alfie turned to stare at Rupert, feeling the whole crowd looking at them with interest and amusement at the spectacle. ‘Four-fifty. Four hundred and fifty thousand pounds.’
Furiously, Rupert hissed at Alfie, ‘You better make sure you have the money. I’ve seen what they do to people who don’t pay. They check you know, so whatever’s in that bag of yours, make sure it’s enough.’
‘Oh, don’t worry about me – I’ve got the money all right. The question is, have you?’
Haughtily, Rupert turned his nose up at Alfie. ‘Damn right I have … Four-eighty!’
The tension rushed through Alfie. He had only another twenty thousand before he reached his top bid and ran out of money. Taking a deep breath, he called out, ‘Five hundred thousand! I offer five hundred thousand pounds.’
A scream of excitement sounded somewhere in the room as Rupert leant in to Alfie.
‘Whenever anyone starts to go up in twenties, I’d say they’re running out of money, wouldn’t you?’
Alfie shook his head, speaking quietly through the side of his mouth. ‘I think you’re speaking about yourself there, Rupert. I’m just being sensible. How about you?’
He held Rupert’s gaze as his heart pounded in terror – this was it. There was no more, and he couldn’t even pretend there was. Panic stifled him as he watched Rupert raise his hand in the air, a wide smile spreading across his face. ‘Five hundred thousand … and …’ He paused and rummaged in his pocket, pulling out a ten-pound note. He glared at Alfie then shouted. ‘And ten pounds.’ The crowd cheered but Alfie buried his face in his hands as the room began to spin, his whole body beginning to shake. He’d almost done it, he’d almost saved Taylor, but now what would become of him? In horror he listened to Barry count down as well as listening to Rupert giggling next to him. ‘Five hundred thousand and ten pounds, going once, going twice …’
‘Wait! Wait! Wait!’ Alfie yelled out as he suddenly remembered the change he had in his pocket. Frantically, he jammed his hand into his jeans pulling out a ten-pound note along with some pound coins. He called out again, his voice tinged with slight hope. ‘Five hundred thousand and … and … thirteen pounds.’
He glanced at Rupert, whose smile had dropped, replaced by an expression of fury as he hissed, ‘I’m out. All out.’
And as Rupert stood up and stormed towards the exit, Alfie once again buried his head in his hands listening to Barry count down the bid. ‘Five hundred thousand and thirteen pounds from the gentleman at the back, going once, going twice, going three times … Sold!’
And with that, Alfie Jennings was promptly sick again.