Beric held the handrail as he climbed up the steps, the snow crunched beneath his feet with every step until he reached the red door. Something cold thudded against Beric’s back. He turned around and patted the snow off from his thick black coat. Beric’s eyes darted around the street until he noticed Ralph and a few of the other kids standing and laughing near the iron fence below him. Beric squinted at them through the snowfall.
“Enough of that ye little bastards or else I’ll tell ye mums’ about this,” Beric said as he raised a gloved fist, “and they’ll whip ye arses right proper.”
“Piss off Mr Sadler,” one of the boys shouted, a smaller lad with blonde hair and a pink face.
“Henry!” screamed a young lady with brown hair as she stormed out from the bakery opposite and crossed the road. The gang turned as Mrs Jameson grabbed Henry by the ear. “What have I told you about your mouth?”
“Ow!” Henry squirmed in his mother’s grasp. “Mom, stop.”
Mrs Jameson looked from Henry to Beric atop the steps. “Apologies Mr Sadler, sorry to be a burden.”
“No burden at all Mrs Jameson,” Beric said with a smile. His attention switched to the other children who had now separated from Henry. “Now the rest of you clear off. I’m sure ye all have better things to be doing than throwing snowballs at an old man.”
The children stood still until Mrs Jameson glared at them. “You heard what he said, clear off!” Beric turned and faced the red door as multiple footfalls scattered away from earshot. He raised his right hand and tapped on the woodwork twice before placing both hands behind his back. The door slowly opened, a balding man with a brown moustache and spectacles peaked out, his body behind the door.
“Yes?” the man said.
Beric tapped the tip of his right foot against the floor, a lump of snow slid from its surface. “Frank Mils?”
The man’s grip on the door tightened. “Yes?”
“I’m with the committee, there seems to be an issue that needs resolving quite quickly I’m afraid. May I come in?” Frank glanced at the floor and then back to Beric, he nodded and pulled the door backwards. Beric walked inside and removed his gloves, his shoes thumped against the floor. Beric eyed the entryway as he slipped his gloves inside his back pocket, two pairs of shoes were near the door, one a pair of flat red shoes, the other plain and brown with laces. “Ye have someone else around? A guest or—”
“My wife,” Frank said as he closed the door and stepped backwards. “Is that going to be a problem?”
“No, no it will not. In fact. it makes things easier.” Beric titled his head up the stairs. “Call her down Frank.”
“What?”
Beric turned his head and frowned. “I said call her down Frank.” Beric lightly shook his head. “It’s a simple request.”
Frank walked towards the bottom of the stairs and held the bannister. “Marge!” Beric folded his arms. Frank looked to Beric and then back up the stairs. “Marge!”
“What?” a voice from upstairs shouted.
“We have a guest!”
“Be right there!” The panelling across the ceiling groaned and stopped. “I’ll be five minutes!”
“Okay!” Frank pushed himself away from the bannister and adjusted his glasses. “Coffee?”
“Please,” Beric said, “black if you don’t mind.” Frank glided his hand against the wooden spokes as he passed the stairs and entered the kitchen, Beric followed. The tiles were small and square, they switched between white and black with each adjacent block. Beric opened a cupboard and pulled out two brown mugs from the shelf, the ceramic clinked as he rested them on the counter. Beric walked away from Frank as he ignited a small gas burner. Beric stopped at an oak table, six thick chairs stood around it. Beric pulled a chair out with his left hand, the wood scraped against the floor. He sat down and tucked his legs underneath the table. Frank soon dripped the coffee into the two mugs, turned the burner off and carried the two cups to the table. Frank placed a cup in front of Beric first and then the other on the opposite side of the table. He then lumbered a chair out from underneath the table and sat down.
“If this is about—”
Beric raised the palm of his right hand. “Ye don’t need to worry about what this is about.” Beric peered into the cup, the mixture was dark and smelled rich. He grabbed the rim of the mug and spun it around on the table, the liquid swished from side to side. “What make is this?”
Frank grabbed the mug by the handle with his right hand. “Burtons.” He drew the cup up to his mouth and sipped at it, his hand shook. “It’s fine quality.”
Beric stopped spinning the mug and brought it to his face, his eyes on Frank. “It smells good at least.” Beric took a taste. “Flavour isn’t bad either.”
Frank smiled. “Thank you.”
Beric placed the mug back on the table. “Now onto more pressing matters Frank if you don’t mind.” Beric folded his left leg over his right knee.
Frank lowered his mug. “Oh, of course, yes. As I’ve said, If—”
Beric put his right hand inside his coat and pulled out the revolver, his hand around the grip and rested the barrel on his left knee. “Please continue Mr Mils.” Frank stood eyes wide. Beric cocked his head to the left. “Are ye done?”
Frank cleared his throat. “No, I was just put off.”
“By?”
“By the gun, sir.”
Beric eyed the revolver in his hand. “It’s just a tool, Frank. It’s not something to be afraid of on its own.” Beric switched his attention back to Frank. “Ye remind me of a kid I saw outside just now Frank. You’re sitting there squirming in ye seat after mommy sees ye foolish behaviour after getting away with it for so long.”
“I never meant to—”
“To what Frank? Scim from the top and net the cash?” Beric chuckled. “Because that is what ye did. Mommy knows now Frank.”
“It was a mistake yes, I see that.”
“Ye damn right it was a mistake, Frank. Ye have a gun in ye face. Ye wanna hear what I think Frank?”
“What?”
“I think that you’re only sorry that ye got caught. Am I wrong Frank? Please tell me I’m wrong.”
Frank blinked rapidly. “You’re wrong!”
Beric pointed to himself with his left hand, his eyebrows raised. “I’m wrong?”
“Yes, you’re wrong.”
Beric uncrossed his legs, the gun still pointed at Frank. “Tell me how Frank. Tell me that and we may get somewhere with this.” The stairs creaked as feet thudded along the steps. “Quickly now.”
“I—” Beric fired twice into Frank’s chest, the shell casing bounced across the floor as Frank’s body went limp.
A woman with greying brown hair ran into the room as Beric stood up and placed the revolver back inside his jacket. “What in the—Frank!” She ran over to Frank’s body.
“Widows’ meeting is on Mondays from 3 pm till evening at the Rose. Bring a friend if ye like.” Beric walked out of the kitchen and opened the front door. He stopped, and half turned his head. “Thanks for the coffee.” Beric stepped outside into the frosty air and closed the door, Snow continued to fall, and Mrs Jameson was giving Henry an earful at the bottom of the steps. Beric took his gloves out of his back pocket, put them on, and walked down the steps.