Ken McClure - The Anvil

‘They want to keep us altogether Willie,’ said Leavey. ‘We’re easier to control that way.’

‘Si,’ said the policeman, smiling for the first time but there was no humour in it. ‘Just like the animals… ‘

‘Now wait a minute!’ said MacFarlane angrily.

‘Cool it Willie,’ said Leavey through his teeth.

Leavey’s intervention wasn’t enough to satisfy the policeman who resented the fact that MacFarlane had started to face up to him. ‘You go back now!’ he hissed, ramming his baton into MacFarlane’s midriff.

MacFarlane doubled over and Leavey put a restraining hand on the policeman’s arm saying, ‘Easy, there’s no need for that. We’re going.’

Leavey and MacLean helped MacFarlane to his feet and they started to move back towards the centre of town. ‘Arsehole!’ gasped MacFarlane as he got back his breath.

‘Wait!’ commanded the policeman. He had heard what MacFarlane had said. His companion said something rapidly in Spanish, which MacLean interpreted as an exhortation to let it go, but the man had other ideas. He poked MacFarlane again with his baton. Again Leavey intervened, holding up his arms in a gesture of conciliation. ‘We’re going, we’re going,’ he crooned.

‘No!’ rasped the policeman. ‘Empty your bags.’

Leavey looked for a moment as if he had run out of patience but MacLean said under his breath, ‘Bite the bullet! Do as he says.’

All three emptied their holdalls on to the pavement while the surly policeman examined their belongings with the toe of his boot, a gesture that added to the intended humiliation. His colleague moved uneasily from foot to foot, unwilling to be a part of it but without any power to stop it.

Leavey tensed when the policeman made a point of grinding the sole of his boot on one of his shirts but did nothing.

‘What’ this?’ asked the policeman, pointing with his toe to one of Leavey’s camera cases.

‘A telephoto lens,’ replied Leavey evenly but he exchanged a glance with MacLean which said that it wasn’t. MacLean prepared himself for the worst.

‘Open it!’ said the policeman.

‘Please Senor,’ said Leavey. ‘We are very sorry for all the trouble we have caused. Please let us rejoin our friends and we’ll be no more bother.’

‘Open it,’ said the policeman, sensing that he was on to something.

Leavey shrugged his shoulders in apparent acquiescence and made as if to bend down for the case. Instead he straightened up and hit the policeman with a short right to the jaw. The man slumped to the pavement. MacLean, who had been expecting it, hit the other policeman almost before the man realised what was happening and he too fell to the ground.

‘That’s torn it,’ said MacFarlane.

‘Let’s get our gear and get out of here!’ said MacLean.

They scrambled up their belongings, stuffing them back into their bags and started running back towards the centre and the safety of the crowds. After a few minutes the sound of a police siren told them that they were not going to make it in time. They stopped at a junction and looked both ways for inspiration. There was a group of twenty or so football supporters quite near. The decision was made for them. They joined the group and got their breath back but they were still vulnerable; the group was too small for anonymity.

The sound of the siren grew louder until they saw a police car cross the junction where they had turned off. Leavey looked anxiously at MacLean as the sound of the siren died in a long slow wail. The car had stopped on the other side of the junction. They waited for the whine of reverse gear and were not disappointed. The police car reversed back to the junction and turned slowly into their street.

Leavey indicated that MacFarlane should stay with the crowd and the little man nodded, pulling his Tammy down a bit further and sinking into his scarf.

‘In here,’ said Leavey to MacLean. It was a leather goods store, which seemed suitably dark inside. They made for the furthest corner and examined whatever they found there. It turned out to be watchstraps.

‘Si?’ said the assistant.

MacLean pointed to his wrist. ‘New strap please,’ he said.

The assistant looked at MacLean’s watch and began pointing out suitable kinds. The police car was drifting past the window.

‘Morocco?’ said the assistant. The police car had passed the window.

‘Alligator?’

Car doors slammed.

‘Plastic?’

MacLean saw peaked caps and sunglasses pass the window. ‘I think I like this one,’ he said.

‘Si Senor.’

‘Would you fit it for me?’

‘Si Senor,’ replied the assistant with less enthusiasm this time.

MacLean, aware of a commotion starting outside, fumbled at his watchstrap in order to delay as much as possible. The noise outside seemed to reach a crescendo and then fade as car doors slammed again and an engine roared into life. A car moved off and MacLean prayed that it was the police car. He paid for the watchstrap to an assistant who was clearly bemused as to why he had just replaced a perfectly good watchstrap but was too polite to question it. ‘Muchas gracias, Senor.’

Leavey and MacLean rejoined the crowd, anxious to find out what had been going on. They saw with relief that MacFarlane was still among them but now he was the centre of attention.

‘You guys missed all the fun,’ said one man.

‘Why? What happened?’ asked Leavey.

Half a dozen voices wanted to relate the story at the same time but eventually MacLean gathered that the police had identified MacFarlane as one of the three they were looking for but the others had prevented the police from taking him away.

‘Two big guys against the wee man here just wasn’t on!’

‘They’ll be back in numbers,’ warned Leavey.

‘Let them come,’ said one hero who looked as if he couldn’t run for a bus.

‘Our best bet is to get back to the square and join the others,’ said Leavey.

‘Aye, safety in numbers,’ agreed one man.

‘Plus the fact that someone in the police with brains might work out that it might be best to let the whole matter drop rather than cause a riot.

A murmur of agreement carried the motion and they all started to move quickly back to the square.

MacLean sat down on a low stone wall that circled a fountain in the square and was joined by Leavey and MacFarlane. The fountain itself was dry and the layer of dust and dirt round the base said that it had been a long time since water flowed in it but the thought was there. The numbers of blue scarves in the vicinity was comfortably back in the hundreds and the police chose not to make their presence felt in the square itself. They remained content to cover all the exits making sure that the foreigners were confined to the one area until match time.

‘What do you think?’ asked Leavey.

‘We’re trapped,’ replied MacLean.

‘Our best chance of breaking away will come later when they start herding us to the stadium,’ said Leavey. ‘They’ll be posted along the route but they’ll assume we’re all going to the match anyway.’

‘The trouble is it’ll be too late to get a car by then,’ said MacLean.

‘We could borrow one,’ suggested MacFarlane.

‘It may come to that,’ conceded MacLean. ‘But we’re in enough trouble with police assault charges if they catch us without stealing a car if we can possibly avoid it. They fell to silence again until MacLean’s gaze fell on the large hotel at the east end of the square. It gave him an idea. ‘We could rent a car through the hotel,’ he said to Leavey.

Leavey looked at the Plaza Hotel with its row of international flags along the front and said, ‘We’d have to be resident.’