In the distance I could hear a faint voice calling me, was it an angel beckoning me to a better place?
"Sean its gone eight, You'd better get up"
Ahh, Alas not this time, I was partly right, it was my own little angel, beckoning me to the breakfast table.
"SEAN," The voice got louder.
"OK, I'm up, I'm up, Its so cold",I mumbled in my semi conscious state, pulling the duvet cover over my head.
I heard her footsteps, as she started to climb the stairs.
"Alright, Alright, I'm up, no rest for the wicked, I thought to myself, as I grudgingly left the warmth of my bed, braving the arctic conditions of the bedroom.
"Try not to be late again, I've got to go." She replied, as the footsteps returned downstairs.
"What no breakfast in bed then"? I called back, as I started to dress.
"No there's tea in the pot, and you've a letter, its on the table", and with that there was a rattle of keys, and the front door slammed.
"Love you too".
Let me introduce myself, Sean Lawson, 39 years old, retired, presumed by many as deceased, previous occupation...well..Iv'e had a number of jobs since officially leaving school, none of them legitimate in the eyes of the law though, if I had to sum up my role in society in a few words, it would probably be pest control specialist.
Born in Bermondsey, South London, in 1969,smacked on the arse, and been fighting back ever since. The name on my birth certificate is Sean Philips, the illegitimate son of a popular local working girl, complications at birth meant that I would remain an only child.
We lived on the third floor of a neglected private block of flats on an estate, aptly named the Hope Estate. I say we, that included me, my mother and a string of uncles who seemed to come and go at all hours of the day and night, well I did say she was popular.
I suppose now, thinking back, anyone of them could have been my father, but I try not to think back, we never discussed him anyway, I felt no worse off not having on as I grew up, that's what I told myself anyway. In truth it would have been nice to have had somebody to teach me how to ride a bike with out stabilisers, or to play football with or just to turn to for advice, none of that sort of stuff seemed to be in my mums remit, anyway I did OK, and at least it saved money on fathers day cards.
I wasn't particularly academically minded at school, but that wasn't through a lack of interest, I liked learning, but just found the formality of it all difficult to take, I'd never liked taking advice, let alone orders, and I suppose without any real discipline at home the grass always looked greener on the other side of the school fence.
So I ended up going to school when I had to, and didn't when I could get away with it, and as long as I wasn't around the flat when my mother was entertaining yet another uncle, she couldn't have cared less where I was.
It sounds cliched, I know, but the streets became my education, at the school of hard knocks, well that and the local library, where I could learn at my own pace.
It may seem a strange thing to say, baring in mind my history to date, but I don't feel that my childhood has adversely affected me at all, I believe destiny has pretty much planned out everything for us anyway, and I' have always been a bloody good pest controller, whatever had happened.
CHAPTER 1
FRIENDS REUNITED
"My God, it must be colder in here than it is outside, Oh well soon be Christmas" I was talking to myself again, I'd been doing a lot of that recently, "First sign of madness, they reckon", I mumbled to myself as I made my way downstairs.
Standing in the kitchen, eating my cold toast, thanks Karren, I ripped open my envelope and read the card inside, suddenly my whole World began to shrink around me, I had to steady myself by leaning on the table.
Merry Christmas Sean, is it Lawson or Philips these days?
Congratulations on your miraculous recovery.
We'll be in touch.
An innocent enough greeting you might think, the envelope had a lovely clear South London postmark as well, it didn't need to be signed.
Nine years, nine long quiet bloody years, slowly building a new life, now this.
I had a some phone calls to make;
"Hello blacksmith arms public house", was the reply, at least the pubs still standing I thought.
"Is Dave Johnson about please mate," I asked not hopeful of much luck with my first try.
"Dave, its for you" I was amazed to hear in the background.
"Cheers Bob, who is it".
"Didn't say, and hurry up this ain't a bloody public phone for you toerags".
"Alright, Alright, keep yer bloody hair on, what there is left anyway" I heard Dave mumble as he was passed the phone.
"David"?
"Yeah, who's this", he replied.
"Sean"
"Sean who"?
"Sean of the bloody dead", suddenly came in to my mind, rather witty I thought. There was a silence.
"Dave"? I asked again.
"Bloody Hell Sean Phil........" I stopped him from completing the name.
"Don't say my name in the pub for Christs sake, I know this must be a shock for you, but calm down and call me back on this number, got a pen mate"?
Five minutes later my mobile rang, long time since Id had a call from a London number.
"Dave, its a good job your such a creature of habit, have you actually moved from that stool since Ive been gone"? I asked.
"I can hardly believe it Sean, is it really you" he asked, his words tumbling over each other with excitement.
"The one and only"
"Why, Where are you? I cant believe it, your taking a risk aren't you?, I mean your dead, he continued.
"Modern medical science mate, ther's a lot to be said for it", I replied
"Its so good to hear you mate, Ive missed your Dulcie tones" he continued.
"Me to, Me to" I held back my emotions, I needed to be professional about the situation.
"Apart from being dead, how are you" he asked.
"Oh Ive been better, don't take this the wrong way but I wasn't expecting to speak to you again mate, how are you"?
There was another pause.
"Oh you know, struggling on"
"Listen mate, has anyone been asking about me, or mentioned my name"? I asked.
"It must be nearly ten years Sean, no ones mentioned you for as long as I can remember, since around the funeral time. Why whats up?"
"Someone seems to have taken an interest in me, Ive had a bloody Christmas card, how they got my address, I don't know, and after all this time, there's only two people who know I'm alive let alone where I live".
My tone must have worried Dave, as he knew that he was one of the two people I was referring to, his voice became sterner.
"One person Sean, Chris died nearly two years ago, and obviously there was no way of letting you know, I ain't got a clue where you are anyway, or if you were still alive, so you don't need to ask if Ive said anything."
I stopped him from continuing,"I know that mate, that's not why I'm calling, It hasn't even crossed my mind. What happened to Chris".
Even though it had been nearly ten years since I had seen or spoken to Chris I was shocked at the news, and had to sit down.
"Occupational hazards Sean, a lots changed around here since you left mate, new faces, new money, some of us old faces don't fit in anymore. We often thought about you Sean.
Still shocked at the news of Chris's death I finally said.
"I need to see you Dave, I wouldn't be calling you if it wasn't serious, I need to get down there and smoke the bastards out, I'm not waiting for them to make the next move. They've caught me off guard, now its my turn, If someones got the bollocks to come after me, I want to see the whites of their eyes before I pull them out".
"I'm travelling down tomorrow, give us a bell around noon, on this number, and I'l arrange to meet you, I'm sorry to involve you in this Dave but its important, can you do that for me?"
"You don't have to ask mate, It'll be great to see you again".
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