Wrong Place! Wrong Time!

By Peter Casci

I never wanted to be a hero, but I pride myself on always doing the right thing. Would you?

Seems quite an easy question when we're talking hypothetically. I bet most of you sitting there would think that you always do the right thing. I am not here to judge, far from it, but ask yourself this... if doing the right thing came at a cost, would you still do it? Not quite the easy answer now is it?!

I did the right thing and I think it's safe to say that it cost me... everything! Who am I? That doesn't matter, what matters is what happens next...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jun 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9781716796319

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

I take another swig from my almost empty beer bottle. It still feels surprisingly cold. Nearly five bottles down and seven to go before this all ends. It’ll be a big fucking relief. I take a deep breath in and let the cool night air fill my lungs. What I would give for a cigarette right now. I pause a moment. The slight breeze on my face feels refreshing and somehow helps me keep calm. Good, I think to myself. I need to stay calm. I look down at the poorly lit street below. Look at all those people. I’m only on the fifth floor but they all seem a lot further away. I love people watching. It’s a right laugh. You can have so much fun just watching the world go by. Making up stories for people. Imagining what they are doing or why they are doing what they are doing. I look around at the roof tops. London really looks pretty at this time of night. Some of the buildings are taller, smaller and the same height. I can see sporadic office lights switched on in some of the buildings. No doubt some poor bastards are having to work late. I wonder what it would be like to be them. Even for just a few moments. How would it feel?

I sit on the ledge and watch as my legs dangle freely beneath me. It strangely feels quite liberating. I cup my face with hand and massage the side of my head. I try and make sense out of what has happened. I just can’t process it all. I need to though. I feel when I was at school the night before a big exam. It was fucking years ago now but the memory still feels fresh. I don’t even know where to start. I mean usually you would go from the beginning, wouldn’t you? But my mind seems fixated on the big things that have happened. Then again that’s normal, isn’t it? When someone asks you how your day was you don’t begin with ‘well I woke up, had a piss and brushed my teeth’, do you? No, you start with the biggest thing and work backwards from there. I have to think hard about how this all started because so much has happened.

I hear a noise behind me. I slowly turn to see a young guy; well, he looks young anyway, I am sure he can’t be any more than twenty. He’s dressed in jeans and a hooded top. He’s wearing a pair of trainers and a baseball cap with a West Ham United football badge on it. Is this what is meant to pass for fucking fashion these days? Good lord, he looks like the sort of guy who should be hanging around street corners. Then again, what the fuck do I know about fashion? Or even being cool for that matter. I don’t think I have ever fallen into either category.

Around his neck, I can make out a badge. Ok, here we go, it’s show time. 

David? he calls.

I ignore him for a moment as I finish off my beer.

David? he calls again.

Do you have a bottle opener? I reply.

I turn to look at him. He looks rather surprised by my question.

A what? he mutters.

A bottle opener...

I lift a full bottle of beer and shake it slightly from side to side.

I can’t seem to find mine...

He pauses for a moment before shaking his head. I turn around and look back to the crowd below.

Pity! I mutter.

Wait, I hear him call out, what about this…

I turn. He shows me his belt which has a bunch of keys hooked to it and with them is a silver bottle opener with a playboy bunny carved on it.

Nice! I mutter with a smile.

He looks at the keyring and smiles too.

My girlfriend brought it back to me from Amsterdam…

Really? That’s all she got you?

I know, he replies, but there’s more to it than that!

Mate, I don’t want to know! I add.

He unlinks the bottle opener from his keys and holds it out to me. Almost like a goodwill offering. I take the bottle opener and look at it for a moment as I shake my head.

Why don’t you…you know...come inside and we’ll have a beer? he says rather hesitantly.

So predictable.

Sorry, I reply, I like the view out here.

Ok, I understand. May I sit with you?

Mate, as long as you bring that bottle opener, you can sit on my fucking lap.

He pauses and then laughs, a nervous laugh.

Ok! I am going to sit down. Next to you. Look. I am sitting down. Now!

Fuck me David Attenborough, are you going to narrate everything you do?

Sorry!

Just take a seat mate…

He sits down next to me and I open two beers and hand him one of them. He rejects it.

Come on mate. One beer won’t hurt you. Besides, I have loads left. We could be here a while.

We sit in silence and I take a drink of beer. He doesn’t touch his. I look down at the crowd whilst he twitches around.

What’s your name? I ask, breaking the silence.

It’s Jason, Jason Kane, he replies.

I look at him for a moment.

That’s a pretty cool fucking name mate, I reply, Jason Kane…that’s awesome!

He smiles.

Thanks, he replies, I can’t take all the credit though. My folks had a pretty big say in it.

We look at each other for a moment and laugh. Then there’s a silence. An awkward silence.

Listen, David, may I call you David? he asks.

I don’t acknowledge him again and have a drink.

Listen, I have a list of questions I am meant to ask you right now… he adds.

I interrupt him.

I told you, I like the view…

Look David, what can I say that will get you off this roof?

You’re wasting your time mate…

Come on there must be someone for you back on the ground…

Not anymore… 

I pause for a moment. I know this is the bit where I am meant to talk, tell him what he needs to hear and play my part in this two-way dance but I just need to compose myself for a moment. I cup my face again and find myself biting my fingernails. Shit, I haven’t done that since I was a kid.

David?

I take another swig of beer.

My name isn’t David, I reply.

He looks at me confused.

Get yourself comfy, I mutter, we could be here for a while.

Here we go, I think to myself, so it begins.

Chapter 2

I used to be the head chef of one of the top places in London. An Italian restaurant called the ‘Nuovo Boulevard’. It was one of the hottest places to go and I’m not just saying that. We had a great team and we were really making a name for ourselves. It was in the heart of the city, not too far from Leicester Square so it was always busy. It was a prime location, mainly for theatre goers as it was close to some of the top theatres in London. Sometimes we’d even get cast members in. It wasn’t exactly Hollywood names, but they were names you would see plastered on posters all around tube stations and shit like that.

Well this night was a night like no other. They were showing some play at one of the theatres nearby. It was a Shakespeare play; I can’t remember the name – King Macbeth or some fucker like that – I didn’t follow or go much myself, but I knew which shows would be popular and this was one of them.

It was the opening night and it was highly anticipated because of the cast. There was such a buzz about the place. Anyway, we’d been pretty much rammed packed from early afternoon. Everyone was pilling into the place and you couldn’t even take a breath because we were that busy. I had been on my feet for hours but it was worth it. We literally would clear one table and by the time you turned around someone else would be sat there.

I remember walking into the kitchen to give some orders to my team. I would usually have around ten people in total on a normal night, twelve or so if we were busy – this night we had upwards of twenty.

Claire? I yelled, Table Four still needs their starters and Joe, you taking the bill to table nine?

Claire jumped at the sound of my voice as Joe rushed out with the bill.

Of course Michael, she replied, sorry, I was just...I was just waiting...

My fault Mickey, yelled one of the chefs, Claire, soups up...

No worries guys, I yelled, you’re all doing a great job, keep it up and the first rounds on me.

There was a big cheer from around the kitchen. I looked at Claire and winked. She smiled. As much as I could be bossy around the place I always tried to keep calm in front of everyone. I found that if I was calm then they would be calm. If they were calm, then there were very little mistakes and we didn’t need any mistakes on this night.

On my way now Mickey, said Claire, sorry I mean Michael.

She smiled and walked out of the kitchen. If I didn’t know any better, I could have sworn she had a thing for me. Not that it mattered much. I was well and truly spoken for. I had a fiancé called Siobahn. We’d been engaged just over a year but had been together for even longer. We had a beautiful son called Henry who was going on six, he was just the centre of my universe. They both were. They were my little family.

About two weeks before we had finally set a date for the wedding. It was a date formed from heavy planning, great organizational skills and a lot of red wine. It was because of this date that I was working every hour possible so I could earn money for the honeymoon. Her parents were going to fund most of the wedding, an amazing tradition I must say. I was going to help out but mainly cover the honeymoon.

Anyway, on this night, it was getting around 7pm and I really wanted to take a break but at the same time I just wanted to keep working. You know you’re in a good job when you just enjoy it. The sort of job that getting up in the early hours isn’t a chore and the idea of taking a break is never your own, you know what I mean? I walked to the far end of the kitchen and noticed one my waiters, Richard, just stood there looking at this chicken dinner that had been laid out. The man was in a fucking world of his own.

Richard? I yelled, you going to marry or serve that chicken?

Without missing a beat he turned to me.

I don’t think I’m ready to commit boss... he replied, I don’t fancy putting all my eggs in one basket.

I shook my head as he laughed to himself. I wasn’t in the mood for him tonight. Richard was a lovely guy and didn’t mean a single bit of harm to anyone. You would have to search pretty far to find someone who didn’t like him. My only problem with him was he liked to mess around a lot and wasn’t the sharpest knife in the draw. You know that person you have to explain something twice to? Well Richard was the sort of guy you needed to explain something four times, send a text, email him and hope for a miracle.

That’s a good one Richard, I replied, now move your arse before that chicken learns to walk again.

In the kitchen there were two doors that separated the kitchen from the main eating area, one for going in and one, obviously, for going out. As Richard left through one door, the other swung open and in swarmed Tony, my boss. Tony was a great guy, so friendly and always had time for people. I loved the guys to bits but, and I mean this in the nicest possible way, he was quite lazy. He pretty much left me to run things, a delegator would be the nicest way to describe him. He was the face of the restaurant, you know, the guy who would do all the talking and look after the customers etc. whereas I was pretty much the brains of the place. I wouldn’t have it any other way to be fair, it suited me down to the ground.

Mickey, my star, he bellowed.

He had a deep booming voice. If you know who Brian Blessed is, he was in Flash Gordon, then imagine his voice but a bit more camp.

Hey Tony, how are we looking?

Beautiful, fantastic and divine... he replied, but enough about me, everything is fabulous. Fantastic work all round. Looks like the first round is on me tonight.

Get in, yelled Paul, one of our chefs, two free drinks, is it Christmas or something?

Tony turned to him.

Santa hasn’t come down the chimney yet darling so get back to work, ok? he replied smiling.

He put his arm around my shoulders and led me away from the main masses of the kitchen. I knew what he was after.

Look Mickey, he muttered, everything is perfect, you’re doing fabulous but you know...it wouldn’t hurt to show your face out there, just a little bit you know? Perhaps let the dogs see the rabbit.

As he talked he started to iron out my shirt collar. It was the sort of thing my mum used to do when I was a kid. Saying that, she would probably still do it now.

Look Tony, I’m a pretty busy rabbit in here…

I know, he interrupted, but a lot of people out there want to see who is hiding in here. So, I’m here to pull the rabbit out of the hat so to speak…

You’ve been working on that rabbit line for a while haven’t you?

I said it too fast didn’t I?

It was fine; you couldn’t have said it any better Tony!

Wonderful, he purred, so you’ll join me up the stairs?

I could feel my soul die a little inside. Whenever we were busy like this Tony would have his big wig friends in and he always, always wanted me to spend some face time with them. I hated it. I didn’t mind it when it’s your everyday person because they were normal people with normal stuff to say. But these guys, Tony’s friends...fucking hell, they were just so...fake. All they wanted to talk about was money, expensive purchases and the theatre...not even what they were going to see, but more the people that would be attending. The outfits… the gossip...it was just so fucking boring. I had nothing to say to them. They didn’t care about me. They didn’t need to care in all honesty. Occasionally I would talk food with a few of them but that was the best it got. I would do anything to get out of it, but I could tell on this night that no excuse would work.

Look Tony, I said gingerly, we’re run to the ground in here, I’m rushed off my feet...

Then buy some slippers and a rocking chair, he interrupted, I know you’re a busy man and believe me, I wouldn’t want to stop you doing your job but...this wasn’t a request, ok? So, get your shit together and remember...happy faces!

Happy faces? Fuck me. I knew it was a lost cause arguing. Whenever I argued about stuff, which wasn’t often to be fair, he would use, what he called, cooperate jargon. He claimed he read about it management books. Personally, I think he made it all up.

You’re right Tony, I replied, mind giving me a few minutes? I haven’t had a break all day.

Of course Mickey my friend, for you anything, he bellowed, fiddling with my shirt collar again as he spoke, "just remember, use a mint if you’re indulging in your little habit ok?"

I smiled and nodded as he winked. He turned and made his way out of the kitchen, making sure to thank everyone on the way out.

I made my way for the back door to the kitchen, grabbing my coat on the way. I did a quick check to see if my phone and cigarettes were there. I noticed Richard taking a few empty plates towards the washing up area.

Richy, I yelled, what happened? Did your date fly the coup?

It just didn’t work out boss, he replied, "you know I need to hen pick my dates..."

He paused grinning as if he’d just won waiter of the year.

"I just figured it was cos your breath was foul..." I said smiling.

I got a fairly good laugh for that. I didn’t usually like to go down to his level of humour, but I couldn’t resist. I gave him a wink and a salute before leaving the kitchen before he could think of a reply.

Chapter 3

I went out into the alleyway out the back of the restaurant. To