That afternoon, Ron found himself doing his first bit of what he thought of as proper work. Ibrahim and the chaps had decided to go to Knightsbridge to shop. They spent a large sum of money in Harrods and in some of the designer clothing shops on the Brompton Road. With their abundance of shopping bags, and the expensive and highly visible watches they all seemed to delight in wearing, the group had stuck out like a sore thumb. Ron had constantly been listening and looking out for mopeds, which young Londoners routinely used to steal people's possessions before making a quick getaway through the traffic, but when two moped riders attempted to strike, he was taken by surprise. They came out of a side street. Faisal was walking along looking at his smart phone, despite the fact that Ron had specifically warned all of them against doing this. One of the moped riders grabbed the phone. Ron had had to jerk his body sideways to grab the rider and pull him off the moped. He got a grip of him with his left hand, he put his right hand between the rider's legs and squeezed his testicles as hard as he possibly could. Ron was a large, strong man. The moped rider went to the floor and was in so much pain that he couldn't move or speak. Ron was able to retrieve the phone and Faisal thanked him. The other moped rider decided not to intervene. Ron ushered the group onwards, back towards where the minibus was parked.
At the house, the Arab men looked through what they had bought. Yousef had picked up a pair of bright yellow Italian designer jogging bottoms. He was almost sixty. Ron didn't think the bottoms suited him very well. Mo had bought a shiny t-shirt with the Rolling Stones lips logo on. He tried it on. The t-shirt was very tight on Mo's slightly rotund body. Ron suspected that it was designed to be worn by a woman of a much slighter build.
Ibrahim was on his phone. Ron could not hear everything he said, but he seemed to be arranging another party, and Ron felt his pulse quicken. He wanted to watch the women having sex again. The night before had been mesmerising, even though he'd just been an observer. He wanted to see Katie again. All day he'd been hoping she would phone. It made him feel like a teenager. When they'd been shopping, he'd kept getting his phone out of his pocket to see if she'd called and he'd missed it.
At half past seven they went to Kensington High Street to eat in a seafood restaurant. Ron was again invited to dine with the Arab men and enjoyed another wonderful meal. After consulting with Yousef, Ibrahim counted out £200 for the tip. Some of the party were slightly drunk as they left. Ron kept a keen eye out for any potential muggers or pick pockets. He successfully shepherded them to the minibus.
Back in the square, Ron noticed that a large four-by-four vehicle had taken his parking space outside the house, he had to park on the other side of the square. When they walked back over, he saw that Toby, his old platoon commander, and now his boss, was in the four-by-four. Toby got out and greeted the party jovially.
'Good evening gentleman! I trust you're enjoying London, and that Ron is looking after you well,' he said. Yousef, Ibrahim and a few of the others had obviously met Toby previously.
'We are enjoying very much' said Ibrahim. 'Ronald is very, very good,' said.
'Splendid, splendid,' said Toby. Ibrahim introduced Toby to all the other members of the party as they went into the house. Toby gave mock salutes to them as greeting. Inside, some of the Arab men at first started to arrange the furniture as they had the night before, but Yousef spoke to them in Arabic and they stopped what they were doing. The Arabs all left the room, Ron could hear some of them going up the stairs.
'Might be best if you take tonight off old son. You can come back in the morning. They like you; you know. They told Millie on the phone, they're very impressed,' said Toby. Ron didn't want to miss a party. He wondered if he had done something wrong the night before.
'I don't mind staying on,' he said. 'I was here last night, and they had their fun and games.'
'Last night was women though, if I'm not wrong,' said Toby. Tonight's boys' night. Didn't think it'd be your cup of tea. I seem to remember that you weren't too impressed with that sort of stuff, in the old days.'
'Right. Fair enough,' said Ron. 'When you say boys though...'
'-Ibrahim and Youssef have assured me that the age of consent will be absolutely respected,' said Toby.
'What time do they need me back tomorrow?' he asked.
'eleven.' said Toby. 'You're all off to the races.'
'Great,' said Ron. He went to leave the room but stopped suddenly.
'Boss?' he said. He'd always called Toby boss back when they were soldiers.
'Yes,' said Toby.
'I've been offered an appointment with the Veterans Team, mental health guys, Friday,' said Ron.
'Well that's really good news,' said Toby.
'I don't know if I'm going to go,' said Ron.
'Go,' said Toby. 'Friday? What time?'
'Two in the afternoon, in New Cross,' said Ron.
'You go. I'll still pay you. You remember Penfold?' Asked Toby.
'Yes,' said Ron. Penfold was the nickname of a man who had been in their unit. Penfold had been a hard case.
'Penfold saw that team, in Haringey. It helped him a lot,' said Toby.
'Alright, I'll go to it,' said Ron.
'Good,' said Toby.
***
Ibrahim had given Ron a bottle of the blue label whiskey. He hadn't wanted to accept it, but Ibrahim insisted. He planned a night in, watching Netflix, eating a takeaway and drinking the whiskey. He was on his way to a Jamaican restaurant on the Walworth Road when his phone went off. He didn't hear it ringing, but felt the phone vibrate in his pocket. Unknown number.
'Hello,' said Ron.
