Jim watches me heal and says, ‘Blimey! You’re quick.’
Trev then asks how the tattoos were applied and while I talk he pops lids on to the four small, round plastic trays that contain the bits of skin, blood, flesh and bone. Then he stacks the trays and puts a large elastic band round them, holding them together. He carefully places them in the corner of his bag. Next he rolls up the bloodied plastic sheet with the surgical tools into a large bundle, gets Jim to hold open a bin liner and slides the lot in, then screws up the sheet that was under my leg and tosses that in as well.
He peers at my ankle and nods. ‘I took the “0”, but you can see it’s already reappeared on the scab. That’s very clever. It’s all very clever. I’ll take a few photos.’ He gets out his phone and clicks away.
‘Interesting scars,’ he says, looking at my hand. ‘Acid?’
‘You’re studying the tattoos,’ I say.
‘Just professional interest.’
‘How soon will you be able to tell me the results?’
Trev looks at me totally blankly. ‘I need to analyse what chemicals are in the tattoos. That should be straightforward, but there’ll be magic involved, which makes it a thousand times more complicated.’
‘How soon will you know if they’re tracking me?’
Trev doesn’t answer. He snaps the lock on his bag and stands up to go. He says to Jim, ‘The tattoos are unlikely to be used to track him.’ And Trev picks up his bag and walks out.
Jim shuts the door. ‘No manners. That’s cos he’s too bright for ’em. Still wouldn’t do ’im any ’arm to try.’ He sniffs, swallows a mouthful and then says, ‘He never rushes neither. Never. I’ll give you the latest when I see you in two weeks.’
‘He didn’t mention money.’
‘A sad failin’ of our Trev, that is. Thinks he’s above all that. Course he’s got to eat, ain’t ’ee? Like anyone.’
‘I’m guessing he isn’t cheap.’
‘He’s an expert, Ivan. Experts ain’t cheap. Experts in passports, experts in tattoos, experts in anythin’ ain’t cheap. He charges by the hour. I’ll let you know what sort of region he’s goin’ to be in when I see you next time.’
jim and trev (part two)
Early one morning two weeks later Jim and I are in the changing rooms of a village tennis club. I’m not sure if the odour is Jim or the changing room, but I can’t imagine the tennis-club members would put up with this smell for long.
‘You’re looking a lot better, Ivan. A bit fuller round the ol’ cheeks. Gaunt, that’s what you were, gaunt.’ He is glancing to the door behind me all the time as he speaks.
‘Is there a problem, Jim?’
‘There shouldn’t be. Shouldn’t be. You did follow the instructions all right?’
‘Of course.’
‘It gives me the willies this place. Let’s make it quick, eh?’
I take the passports and look through them. They seem fine to me. I have two different names and dates of birth, but I’m eighteen in both, which is plausible.
‘That’s it then,’ Jim says as he finishes counting the money. He puts it in his jacket pocket and I grab his arm.
‘The directions to Mercury, please, Jim.’
Jim shakes his head sadly, but is still smiling, professional that he is. ‘Ivan, me ol’ mate, I’m real sorry but I can’t divulge any details till we have the results in from Trev. I’d love to help, course I would. Course I would.’
‘And how is Trev doing?’
‘Oh, Trev’s havin’ a great time, Trev is. I went round to see him the other day and he’s lovin’ it. A giant puzzle he said. A big, giant puzzle.’
‘And how soon will he have the answer to the big, giant puzzle?’
‘He didn’t know. He hardly spoke. Quiet even for Trev. But he did say he’d leave directions in the usual spot on a Tuesday at ten in the mornin’. You’ve just gotta check every Tuesday.’
‘I’m guessing it won’t be this Tuesday from the size of the puzzle.’
‘You never know, Ivan. Our Trev is a genius. He might be having his ’reeka moment right now. You just check every week and one Tuesday it’ll be there.’
‘And money?’
Jim’s face sours so much that his mouth puckers and seems unable to form words for a few seconds before he shakes it off to say, ‘He says he’ll discuss things with you and only you.’ Jim wipes his nose with his fingers and then rubs them on his trousers.