Chapter 1.1

Chapter 1.1

'Welcome to Newthorpe'

Welcome to Newthorpe. An estate of grandiose, home to the finest citizens this side of Northcove. The pamphlets thrusted around by giddy politicians and exuberant realtors tell this story, but the reality is far harsher.Welcome to Newthorpe. An estate of cheating men who drag their wives and children here from their old homes, only to unravel their infidelity in the designated 'family film time'. Home to the finest gangsters this side of Northcove, clad in their tight suits and fancy boots.For a common man strolling through the rain, Newthorpe appears just like any other English parish, with its terraced houses and wet fields. At a glimpse, its blood-stained nature can be mistaken for the fresh crimson paint of the old houses. A deeper look reveals the dark truth of the town.

But where some people see an empty field, others see potential. In its lengthy green knolls, there is a hope in the heart of every Newthorpe man that a castle can be moulded out of it. A hope that a legacy can be forged.

Some of these men sit solemnly in the field, searching through their scattered minds for hours on end, for reasons even they cannot decipher. Maybe they ponder what sort of wood their porch should be constructed out of? Oh, but all the oak furniture fell out as the truck crossed through Coysey?Not every man is as fortunate to have said furniture. With just the money in his back pocket and a dashing pair of Buddy Holly frames, one man has chosen to make his own fortune.Enter Noel Vega.

"Well, I think that's everything," he exclaims dryly. "Bloody hell, this is the life, eh? I can curl one and 'ave a cold one while I'm at it."

In times of hard luck and misfortune, a man may find himself turning towards the darker road. Vega is one of those. A wall with a showerhead and a toilet is not enough to live by, let alone the scrappy mini-fridge and soccer seat."We want you to make a hit," the voice of Carter Jerome was stern as ever."A hit? What, as in you want me to take someone out?" Noel was quick to interrogate."Well, not you specifically. We want you to help our lad Wallace with it. He's a, er, whizz if yer wish when it comes to this.""Oya boss, who's the youngboy?" yapped a quick-tongued chap in a suit.

"This? This 'ere is Noel, says he wants to make it big in Newthorpe," Carter declares.The man leans in to shake the hand of Vega with a slight smirk upon his face. Vega, however, is more drawn towards the man's face; specifically a glaring bruise smacked across his lips."The name's Craig. Man is London's finest mobster today, packed in the big city crap for the middle city crap.""What happened to yer lip?" Noel catches Craig off-guard with the question."Wha', this lil' scratch? Kid was hypin' out near the Sweeney, says to everyone we've got beef cause he caught me chirpsing his missus. Everythin' got on top and dem feds were belled.""Not gonna lie, I didn't catch a word of that," Vega retorts.

"Is you the bone they call Noel?" Grammar isn't always a mobster's strong point."Depends who 'they' are.""'They' is Carter. He says you're taking a hit with me. You ever done it before?" Wallace's tone is firm as he questions Noel."Done what?""You ever killed a man, Noel?"Vega looks somewhat startled at the bluntness of the white-jacketed fellow. "No, I've uh, I've never killed a man. I might have indirectly caused another man to injure himself in a drive-thru, but no, not a killer.""Blast me, a rookie. Alright, whatever, it doesn't matter. You can create a diversion."

"There's the cokehead Frenchie who lives at the Brambleyard flats. You know the one, home to junkies, ex-junkies and old people.""Okay, so he's French. You're not shooting him just for that are you? I'm fairly certain that's a hate crime," Noel quips."Pipe down. Anyway, name's Gwenaël Germain, he buys from Carter then deals out in Coysey and Haverham. Generally never been a problem until recently.""What's the issue?""He's fallen back on some of his payments. Says to Carter 'Do not make a worry sir, I will make pay to you in due course'. Carter doesn't like being lied to.""So you want to kill Gwenaël? How is he meant to pay then?""We're not killing him. He's got a sister."

"The girl's name is Maëlle, she's a singer. Gwennie 'ere is quite fond of her, she's his only sister after all. Very protective and all."Noel appears uncomfortable, but shrugs."Would be a shame if something were to happen to her pretty little 'ead, no?" Wallace grins as he explains."You want me to help you kill a cokehead's sister?""You don't have to, but if you're really desperate for the money..." Wallace throws out his hand.Noel glances down at it in hesitation."Bollocks... Yeah, I'll do it," Noel states as he shakes Wallace's hand."Good. She's singing at the showcase at Newthorpe Hall on Friday night. We'll pull it off there and send a little snippet to Gwenaël.""Okay... I'll be there."

"One last thing buh..." Wallace growls through a toothy smirk. "If you skip out on this deal, it'll be your head splattered with Maëlle's too. Got it?"

He turns away chuckling to himself, leaving Noel uneasy and wary.

At the hall, Wallace finds comfort in a tucked away chair away from the stage. Noel grabs another one on the same table, only to be halted by the white-jacketed chap."Woah, hold you hard? You can't sit with me.""Huh? Can't I sit here?" Noel stares at Wallace in confusion."We don't want the people knowing we're here together. Get another bloody chair."Noel obliges with a nod before scanning the surrounding area. "There's a lot of empty seats.""We're here early. I needed some time to fiddle with the gun. Never woulda been able to do that when the crowd cycles in."

With Noel having found himself a comfortable seat at the opposite end of the hall to Wallace, Maëlle nervously strolls onto the stage. By now, the hall is packed out and ready for her performance. From behind her, the sound of strings bellow out from hidden speakers.Noel's eyes flutter at the sight of her, investigating her from the bottom of her dress to the top."I heard there was a secret chord,That David played and it pleased the Lord,But youuuu don't really care for music... Do you?"Her gentle French accent caresses the Leonard Cohen piece, receiving a mild clap from the attendees in the Newthorpe Hall."It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth,The minor fall, the major lift,The baffled king composing Hallelujah..."

"Hallelujah, hallelujah,"Hallelujah, hallelujah..."

Noel ogles at the lady mightily chirping ahead of him. How can he participate in her murder? He squirms in his seat, catching the eye of Maëlle. She glimpses towards him and beams widely before continuing her singing."Baby I have been here before,I know this room, I've walked this floor,I used to live alone before I knew youuu...I've seen your flag on the marble arch,Love is not a victory march,It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujaaahhhh..."Noel departs hastily from his seat and rushes towards the adjacent corridor; the corridor which leads straight towards the stage. Wallace watches as he leave and the two share a glance. Seemingly, Wallace is of the belief that Noel is prepared to create the diversion.

The corridor is empty, leading only towards the lone step to the stage. Maëlle's singing can still be heard through the walls, still earning the occasional round of applause for particular passionate moments.Vega paces back and forth. His life is very well at risk, but he inside he knows the value of a life is far greater than the value of money. He leans up against the wall, waiting uneasily for Maëlle to leave the stage.As the song nears its finale, Noel slithers his head around the corner of the stage, eyeballing the crowd. He notices Wallace propped against the far wall, hand in his jacket pocket likely where the handgun is smuggled. He gulps and shudders back into the corridor as Maëlle hits the final line.

Maëlle is blessed with a rousing applause, bringing a tear to her eye. She picks the microphone up again to address the crowd. "Many thank yous. I have, uh, I have enjoyed singing for you tonight. I, uh, I found struggles in my home in France. It was hard to find job to sing, but, uh, being in Newthorpe is so different. Thank you."She skips off the stage out to the corridor, where Noel lightly grabs her by the shoulder."You need to leave," he says with an apologetic side to his voice. "It's not safe here. You need to get out."Maëlle looks puzzled at Noel's words. "What do you mean? Is there a problem?""Your brother Gwenaël owes a certain Carter Jerome a lot of money..." Noel pauses. "That's not my business though. But Mister Jerome has sent one of his men to this very showcase to... kill you."

"What? Why would they kill me?" Maëlle is clearly taken aback by this revelation."Gwenaël has not paid Jerome despite repeated threats. He feels the only way he will listen is if you..." Noel stops himself, shivering gently. Only a short time in Newthorpe and already he's involved himself in massive trouble."What do I do? He is here, yes? I cannot, uh, I cannot just walk out. He might see me. Has he got a gun?""He's armed with a handgun, I don't think he has anything else.""I cannot walk out though. I cannot..." Maëlle starts to frustrate herself."I'm afraid you're going to have to. Come, quick.""I cannot...""Now!" He yells, much more worried than stern.

As they flee the building, Maëlle puts on the brakes before they escape any further. "Mister, wait. What am I doing?""What do you mean?" Noel presses her, still with a fretful inflection."I do not even know you. You might be lying... You must be lying! Why should I trust you?""If you don't trust me, Newthorpe Hall will be given a brand new red coat. You understand?""No sir. I must go back. I have my things."Yet before she can turn, a blustering bang resonates throughout the building, followed by a massive reaction of screaming."Crap! Oh bollo- Do you trust me now?!" He barks at her with a lump in his throat, and she responds with a panicked nod. "Come with me, to my place.""Can't I be at my apartment?"

"No, I'm sorry but you can't go back to your apartment. They will be looking for you there.""Won't they look for you too?""They don't know where I live."

"What is all this?" Maëlle stares astounded at the insanely basic lay-out of Noel's living? "You only have this stuff? One tiny wall?""Hey, watch it. I didn't even have a bed until yesterday.""How did you sleep before?"Noel looks into her eyes with an expression mocking melodrama. "With great difficulty."

Maëlle wanders around the 'house' investigating it from up and down. "You keep it clean, yes?""Oh yeah, of course. Only because sponges were on sale, mind."She continues her search, trotting around trying not to get her dress caught in the grass. "What about private, uh, privacy? A man or woman may just... voyeur into your home.""It's a non-issue."

"Okay. This house is not good, non. But I have to, uh, prioritise no? I could go to apartment where there are walls... but I will die if I do.""So, does this mean you're staying here?""I have to. Tell me though, what is your name? I never learnt it at the show.""Noel. My name's Noel Vega.""Nice to meet you mister Noel," Maëlle says with a giggle. "Shall we go indoors?""Sure, it is awfully chilly."The pair take two steps forward back into the middle of the furniture and chuckle amongst each other.

"You know, Maëlle... It's quite late. Do you want to catch some rest?"Maëlle gazes at him before proceeding to speak up. "Where would we sleep?""You can sleep in the bed with me.""Is it warm enough?"

"Only if we hold each other close."