Strikers Instinct Read online

  “You look terrible!” Harry said happily.

  “Thanks for pointing out the blindingly obvious.” Ed grunted, then he spotted the coffee that Harry was carrying and his eyes lit up.

  “Harry, I take it back, you are a wonderful human being! But I still don’t understand why we have to meet at such a ridiculous time – I’ve only been home a few hours.”

  Harry sighed. “The reason we have to meet so early is because I have a very busy day ahead and this is my only free slot. It isn’t my fault that you spent the night partying. However, you will probably go straight back to bed when I have finished because you have little or nothing else to do today. “

  Ed smiled as the coffee began to take affect. “Calm down Harry, I work hard during the week, I think I deserve some “me” time at the weekend.”

  “I suppose you’re right – maybe I’m getting old,” laughed Harry, “or maybe I’m just jealous! Anyway, this shouldn’t take long, I’m just trying to remember where we left off last night?”

  Ed’s smile disappeared. “Actually I have been having second thoughts. I agree that Sue seems to be a perfect fit for us – but from what I have heard so far I still think that Luke may be trouble.”

  Ed studied Harry for a moment and then continued, “OK, just let me finish up with all the background information and then you can make your own mind up without any pressure.”

  Ed nodded and Harry continued.

  “If I remember rightly we had just finished with Bob Linden’s funeral? Well, the following day Luke sat his mother down and told her he wouldn’t be going to university. He spoke quietly for a few minutes, explaining the need for someone to take care of his mother and his sister Janet. His mother listened without interruption and then simply smiled, stood up and walked out of the room.

  Luke was surprised and more than a little worried. He had expected either a noisy barrage of reasons why he would be going to university or perhaps just a quiet reasoned argument. The fact that his mother had passed no comment at all had shocked Luke. Perhaps his father’s death had been too much for his mother to take and it had knocked the fight out of her. However, Luke didn’t really believe that for one minute and deep down he knew that this wasn’t the end of this particular story.

  Luke decided to go for a run. He needed to clear his head. He had hardly left the house in the last few weeks and wanted to get out into the hills above the town. Luke quickly changed and slipped out of the door. He was gone for just over an hour and he felt much better as he let himself into the back door of the small terraced house. As Luke stood in the small kitchen pouring cold water down his throat he thought he could hear voices in the front room and alarm bells began to ring in his head.

  Sure enough, as he walked into the front parlour he knew he had been ambushed. His mother sat against the far wall but most of the rest of the space in the room seem to have been taken up by very large men. He recognised them all, his uncles and cousins and some of his father’s old friends and workmates.

  All of them seemed to be grim-faced and unsmiling. It soon became obvious that his Uncle Jack was to be spokesman and probably chief prosecutor.

  Jack coughed and then began to speak – he didn’t beat about the bush.

  “Your mother tells us you say you aren’t going to university.”

  Luke tried to speak but Jack just held up his hand.

  “Shut up. You’ve had your say – now it’s our turn.” he said brusquely.

  Luke suddenly felt an overwhelming feeling of helplessness wash over him.

  Jack continued. “Apparently you think that if you aren’t here then your mother and Janet will somehow suffer? How do you think that makes us feel? Do you think we would stand by and allow Bob’s family – our family – to suffer in any way?”

  Luke looked around the room and almost shuddered when he noticed the angry expressions on each face.

  “Your father had high hopes for you Luke. He wanted you to receive a first-rate education and then make a difference in the world. His death is very sad but it changes nothing. You are going to Oxford and you will make your parents and all the rest of us proud. And we will take care of your mother and Janet whilst you are away. End of discussion. Now go and get changed before you get pneumonia.”

  As Luke walked out of the room he noticed an almost-smug expression on his mother’s face. What he didn’t see after he had left the room was that the whole room nearly fell apart trying to stifle their laughter.

  “Well done Jack – that was perfect!” whispered Luke’s mother.

  “I just did exactly as you told me,” replied Jack, “I think we put the fear of God into him. I can’t believe he fell for it!”

  The men quickly left the room before Luke returned and when he finally reappeared after getting changed, his mother behaved as if nothing had happened.

  A few weeks later Luke arrived at University. He was normally a very confident young man but his father’s recent death seemed to have affected him more than anyone realised. During his first few weeks he struggled to make friends – in fact he probably made more enemies than friends. Luke had been brought up to believe that all men were equal but he couldn’t forget how badly his father had been treated by a certain section of society. Unfortunately – as far as he was concerned – he now found himself surrounded by a similar group of people.

  He became rude and belligerent. A small group of students became his main source of anger. They were all very wealthy, seemingly arrogant young men and Luke told himself that he hated them. Somehow they had found out all about Luke’s background and they baited him constantly. There were several rows and confrontations but they were too clever to expose themselves to scrutiny from the authorities – each time there was an incident it always seemed that Luke was to blame.

  The problem became serious and Luke was on the verge of being asked to leave the university when someone intervened – Professor Thomas Arkwright, Luke’s personal tutor, tasked with the pastoral care of a small number of students. In addition, Luke was in the Professor’s class for Language study. Professor Arkwright had noticed quite early during the term that there was a problem and had tried to reach out to Luke but Luke considered the professor to be almost as bad as his tormentors. The professor spoke perfect English without a trace of any accent, he dressed like a magistrate and was very much the picture of minor English aristocracy.

  What Luke didn’t know was that Tom Arkwright was a farmer’s son from a village near Preston. When he had arrived at Oxford, many years before, he had experienced similar problems to Luke. Through a combination of hard work and good luck he had managed to survive – and even prosper. He was still very proud of his roots but his appearance gave no indication of his original background. However, he always made a special effort to help if he saw a student, male or female, with a similar problem.

  The way in which he choose to help Luke was quite unorthodox but it was a spectacular success. He introduced him to martial arts and provided Luke with an unofficial mentor. The mentor was a student who was a year older than Luke – his name was Lord Alexander DeCourt . Luke objected to everything the Professor proposed to him but eventually he realised that he was in the same situation as when he faced his Uncle Jack and the room of angry men – he had no alternative. He couldn’t face the shame of returning to Wishton with his tail between his legs.

  So he begrudgingly accepted the professor’s plan. He began to train each day with Alex and slowly things began to change. The main discipline in the Dojo was karate and both the professor and Alex were experts. Alex also dabbled in other forms of martial arts and mixed the lessons up to keep things interesting. Luke began to realise that he was actually starting to enjoy himself. The physical exercise helped channel his aggression and the mental side of the various disciplines made him concentrate and focus.

  His tormentors began to despair when Luke stopped rising to their baiting and after a few months they thought they had beaten him and simply left
him alone. Luke, however, hadn’t forgotten the way they had treated him and simply put it to one side.

  The most astonishing thing about the whole process was that Luke began to feel comfortable with Alex. He was a patient teacher and Luke began to feel more and more comfortable whenever they were together. The professor began to tease Luke, “I heard a rumour the other day that a working class warrior was becoming friends with the enemy – a member of the upper class! Do you know anything about this Luke?”

  Luke just grinned but he had come to realise that this was all part of the Professor’s plan. In addition to help him gain physical and mental stability he was trying to show Luke that class differences were not down to money and position – they were all about people. There were good and bad people in all walks of life and the professor wanted to make sure that Luke didn’t just concentrate on the bad people.

  Luke finally settled down at university and became a popular student. However, he didn’t become a complete saint, he still had to count to ten sometimes if he was provoked or if he witnessed what he considered to be some form of injustice. It’s actually quite lucky for me that he didn’t turn into a complete pacifist – otherwise I probably wouldn’t be here speaking to you today.”

  Ed’s eyes widened in surprise. “That sounds a bit dramatic.” he said.

  “Not at all,” replied Harry, “in fact I think it’s quite fair to say that one way or another, Luke Linden probably saved my life.”

  CHAPTER 7

  “Good grief,” Ed spluttered – “saved your life? What kind of story is this?”

  Harry smiled thinly. “Maybe I mislead you slightly, I probably should have said that Luke saved my professional life.”

  Ed still looked puzzled so Harry quickly continued, “I’ll explain – just let me have another drink.”

  He took a swig of the now-tepid coffee and then carried on.

  “Luke was in the third and final year of his course and I was in the second year of a five year medical degree when our paths finally crossed. Although Oxford isn’t a particularly big place there are thousands of students – the vast majority of whom never meet.

  As you know, I was studying medicine, trying to follow in my father’s footsteps. The plan was for me to become a GP and then, if I was good enough, I was hoping to eventually become a surgeon. All was going well, I was enjoying my studies, I got on well with my fellow students – even my tutors seemed to like me.

  The only blot on the landscape was the usual student problem – money. Although my family was fairly well-off there never seemed to be enough money to get me through the week. Many other students were in the same position and most of them tried to get part-time jobs in order to survive but I decided that would impact on my studies – so I devised another plan.

  Around the time that I first arrived at university, a new craze was sweeping the country. Arcade games were springing up in pubs and clubs everywhere. Many were space invader type machines but a small number of quiz machines actually offered cash prizes. I spotted an opportunity. I’m sure you will agree that I am quite a modest person.”

  Ed coughed and raised an ironic eyebrow.

  Harry ignored him and continued, “I knew that I was lucky enough to possess above-average intelligence – so I decided to use it for what I considered to be the greater good. I started to play the quiz machine in the student union and quickly found that I could beat it every time. However, it was very difficult to actually get onto that particular machine – there was always a large queue waiting to play – so I started to look elsewhere.

  I worked out a system. I researched every pub and club in Oxford town centre and started to visit the ones that had a quiz machine. My scheme was simple. I never visited the same pub within a two week period, I always bought a drink and waited a few minutes before I started to play the machine and once I had won I quickly left without any fuss. I also varied the time of my visits, sometimes in the afternoon, other times later at night. I even changed my appearance from time to time – trying not to look like a student if possible.

  Throughout my first year the system worked perfectly. I perfected the art of blending into the background and unobtrusively emptying the machines. I built up quite a nice nest egg and it got me through my first year. My second year proved to be a little bit harder. Most of the pubs around the town centre were still fine but in one or two places I noticed that people were starting to watch me. I decided that I needed to broaden my horizons and move further out from the town centre to avoid suspicion.

  One evening I walked into a part of the town I wasn’t really familiar with but it offered me with several potential targets. The first pub I entered seemed perfect. I bought a drink, looked around and finally sauntered over to the quiz machine. A few minutes later I had answered all the questions, collected my prize as the coins tumbled out and then I quickly drank up. I strolled out of the pub and started to walk back home when I noticed another pub just around the corner.

  I decided to check it out for future reference and walked inside and ordered a pint of lager. It was early evening and the pub was almost deserted apart from a small group around a machine. As I walked past I checked it out and it was exactly the kind of quiz machine I was looking for. I went to the opposite side of the pub, sat down and watched the antics of the group. There were four of them, obviously already fairly drunk and they were pouring money into the machine without getting anything back. They looked as if they were builders and their leader seemed to be a young man with a very big mouth.

  It looked like nothing else was going to happen that evening – I got ready to drink up and leave. I planned to visit the pub again in the future, perhaps earlier in the afternoon. Just as I was about to finish my pint the group left the machine and disappeared into a back room. A few minutes later I could hear the clink of pool balls and I realised they weren’t coming back. I wrestled with the decision – should I just leave or should I risk a quick game? Maybe the second pint had given me some Dutch courage but no-one seemed to be around so I decided to take a chance.

  I put my money into the machine and a few minutes later I had hit the top prize. Unfortunately as soon as the coins started to pour out of the machine it seemed to provoke a response from the pool room. The four young men rushed out to see who the lucky person was. As soon as they saw me I knew I was in trouble. Their leader pushed his face into mine, “Students! I should have known. Coming here and acting as if they own the place – now you are taking our money!”

  Immediately I decided that this person had a major dental hygiene problem – his breath was rancid. My reaction just enraged him even more.

  “Don’t pull your nose up at me you snotty little git! Who the hell do you think you are?”

  I tried to protest but dog-breath wouldn’t let me get a word in.

  “Well we’ve had just about enough of you and your sort. First of all we are going to take our money back and then we are going to teach you a lesson you won’t forget!”

  Dog breath smiled, showing a line of crooked, broken teeth and I shuddered. His mates took this as a sign of fear and began to cackle.

  “Look at him he’s frightened to death – he wants his mummy!”

  Just as I began to realise that I was in big trouble, I received a temporary reprieve.

  “I’ve warned you lot before – no trouble in here or you are all barred.” This short speech came from probably one of the biggest men I have ever seen – he seemed to fill the space behind the bar and even my tormentors were stunned into silence. I quickly realised that it was now or never. There was a small gap between two of the lads and I dived through it and headed for the open door. I fell out onto the street hoping that the gang had had enough fun and would go back to their game of pool.

  Sadly that definitely wasn’t the case as all four of them poured out into the street looking for me. I began to run down an unfamiliar street, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. I soon realised that I was hop
elessly lost but on the plus side my pursuers seemed to be falling back. However, my brief hope was short-lived. I ran around the next corner – straight into two of the group who had obviously taken advantage of local knowledge to take a short cut and get ahead of me. As I turned the corner the larger of the two lads punched me full in the face. It felt like I had been hit by a hammer and I fell to the floor.

  Seconds later dog breath and his other accomplice arrived and I was dragged to my feet.

  “C’mon – bring him round here.”

  I was dragged from the street to a narrow alleyway. My head was still spinning so I found it hard to take in what dog breath was shouting at me. I felt them pulling at my pockets – taking out all my winnings and my wallet. They whooped as they saw the large pile of pound coins on the floor.

  “Now we have our money back,” said dog breath, “it looks like we only have one thing left to do!”

  He grinned wickedly at the rest of his group. “Hold him tight – we’ll make sure he doesn’t play those machines again for a long time.”

  “What are you going to do?” I stammered.

  “I’m going to break your sticky little fingers.” he laughed.

  I suddenly realised how much trouble I was in. I wasn’t bothered about the money – I wasn’t really bothered about a few punches but if he broke my fingers then I may never become a surgeon – this was really serious.

  I began to shout for help and I struggled as hard as I could. My three captors just tightened their hold and one tried to clamp his hand over my mouth. I bit as hard as I could and he responded with knee in my back which caused me to drop to me knees.