‘The Thuggery Affair’, Part Seven

Chapter Thirteen: The Flyaway

Patrick and Jukie race off in the stolen car, heading for Ireland where the Boss Man has a hideout. Patrick feels a “mounting exhilaration at the sheer speed” and is amused by Jukie’s attempts to blackmail Patrick into helping him. Jukie wants Patrick to tell the police that Kinky’s death was an accident. Supposedly Patrick will go along with this to stop his father’s reputation being damaged by his son’s involvement in drugs and knifings.

Poor Jukie. He hasn’t realised Mr Merrick is a “strictly amateur” politician who has no interest in being Prime Minister:

“You mean he doesn’t need it. He’s got it all already.”

Patrick is gracious enough to admit that’s true and Jukie says Patrick reminds him of Jukie’s grandparents, who “dig the integrity rave”. Jukie then reveals his sad story – the illegitimate child of a teenage mother, his father abandoning them, then his mother getting killed when he was a baby, brought up by his grandparents who physically abused him and didn’t give him much money. Patrick claims to understand about the lack of money:

“Because there are plenty of people at school with a sight more pocket money than my pa would dream of handing me. It can be very crushing sometimes.”

Jukie, understandably, is furious:

“You got cars ’n hosses ’n butlers ’n a rafty great house ’n loot stacked in the vaults […] ’n I’m starting fr’m scratch.”

But Patrick is “convinced he really did know how it could be”. Honestly, are we meant to feel sorry for Patrick only having “a middle-aged Rolls” for transport?

They pull up at a garage for petrol, where Patrick goes to the toilet, after promising not to escape. (Why does Jukie care whether he escapes or not? He could just drive off.) Patrick doesn’t alert the garage attendant or phone the police, but he does write a message on the dusty glass window. Make up your mind, Patrick! Are you helping Jukie or not?! Meanwhile Jukie has used his “best Culver” voice to convince the attendant they’re just a couple of posh boys who’ve borrowed their uncle’s car.

So the boys drive off and we hear more of the Jukie Clark autobiography. He stole his grandparents’ money to buy clothes, his grandfather beat him up and burnt the clothes, so Jukie embarked on a life of petty crime. He was caught by the police due to his grandfather’s tipoff, then his grandfather refused to take him back and Jukie was sent off to an Approved School. It was a “highly civilized cage” and Jukie was a model pupil for a month, except the Top Brass required not just shallow obedience to rules but true repentance. And Jukie did not want to humble himself before God and repent, so he escaped and thereby damned himself. The sermon is not quite that explicit, but it’s there.

While this is going on, Patrick is reaching into Jukie’s pocket for cigarettes and lighting them and sticking them between Jukie’s lips and staring into Jukie’s eyes. I take back what I said earlier about there being no Patrick/Jukie sexual tension.

Anyway, by an AMAZING COINCIDENCE, after Jukie fled the school, he ended up outside the Culver place just as Maudie had put an ad in the paper for a pigeon helper, and as he was so eager and cheap, Maudie organised for more troubled boys to work for her (“top-class social do-good ’n likewise practically free labour”). Then Espresso’s Da arranged for Jukie to meet the Boss Man and the drug smuggling started.

At this point, Marlene Dietrich comes on the radio singing Where Have All The Flowers Gone? and Jukie is panic-stricken when he realises Kinky is actually dead. There’s a lot of “mutual, exasperated incomprehension” between the two boys as Patrick gives a confusing explanation of the Catholic rituals of death and whether the absence of a priest and holy oil means Kinky is destined for eternal hellfire. Patrick is feeling a bit guilty about being responsible for the knife being at the scene, which made me sympathise with Jukie’s exasperation, because honestly, how could Kinky’s death possibly be Patrick’s moral responsibility? There’s also a bit of theological discussion about how to live their lives if they’re all going to get blown up by the H bomb any moment now.

Chapter Fourteen: The Homing Instinct

Jukie is having second thoughts about going to Ireland, because maybe the Boss Man will either lose him in a bog or hand him over to the police. There’s no way Jukie wants to spend twelve years in prison, but he can’t go to his grandparents. Patrick comes up with the idea of Jukie leaving on the drug-smuggling boat. It means they have to send a signal by six o’clock, then Jukie will hide out in the Merrick’s priest room. Patrick will have to pretend Jukie dropped him off and then drove on to Liverpool, but although Patrick is willing to help a murderer evade the law, he refuses to tell an outright lie to the police. Jukie is justifiably baffled.

“But for why? Like man, it’s not logical.”

Jukie has some baffling notions of his own. Although he’s an atheist, he thinks the afterlife could consist of whatever an individual believed in life. He pulls up at a phone booth and tells Patrick to ring a priest and find out exactly how to save Kinky’s Catholic soul. Patrick usually laughs at “do-it-yourself theology” like this (Patrick, stop being so smug, ALL theology is made up by humans), but he agrees to try. But then Jukie, remembering Patrick left a message at the garage and is not entirely on Jukie’s side, stops him.

“…I never trust no one. Mind Herbert, I don’t expect no one to be so simple as to trust me neither.”

I think they both need some sleep. Which they are forced to have, because Jukie is getting a migraine and can’t drive. Then they oversleep, argue about whether it’s Patrick’s fault, speed off into the sunrise and reach a roadblock at Culverstone Bridge, with Tom Catchpole blocking their way. Jukie puts his foot down, Patrick tries to reason with him, realises Jukie won’t stop and grabs the wheel. There is a very dramatic car crash. Jukie dies in flames. Patrick is thrown clear of the car and is unharmed. Oh, what a surprise.

Poor Mr Merrick. As if it wasn’t bad enough for him when Patrick fell off that cliff and nearly died. Patrick blatantly takes advantage of the situation to tell his father that Regina is back, then he gives the Inspector a mostly true account of events. He has no moral problem with lying that Jukie was going to turn himself in and swerved the car to avoid Tom. This is supposedly for the sake of Jukie’s grandparents. Then Patrick and Peter catch up with events. Espresso has spilled the beans (the coffee beans, get it?) and it turns out the Boss Man was actually Espresso’s Da and that Maudie was in on the whole thing, but Jukie didn’t know about any of this. Poor Jukie, betrayed even by his Thugs. Also, the remaining Thugs got into a vicious fight before they’d even left Culverstone, although I’m not sure if they’re dead or just badly wounded. Also, Mrs Marlow called the priest when she saw Kinky’s rosary beads so Kinky’s soul is saved. Mrs Marlow was “rather moved” by the ritual. She’s not going to convert to Catholicism, is she?

Oh, and Patrick remembers the drugs he’d hidden from the Thugs and shows Peter:

“Even the police weren’t likely to want it now.”

WHAT?! It’s evidence! So, the boys keep the drugs? After all the trouble they went to bring down the evil drug dealers? What are they going to do with it, throw a coke-fuelled party?

I suppose if they sell it to their school mates, they can buy Ann a new bike.

THE END.

Well, that was a lot better than I expected. I mean, the plot was absolutely ludicrous, but the story rocketed along and there were some genuinely interesting bits, especially the relationship between Patrick and Jukie at the end. I enjoyed Lawrie and Peter’s chapters and if this had been the first Marlow book I’d read, I’d probably conclude that Patrick was a fascinating and sympathetic character. I didn’t even miss Nicola – I can see that it wouldn’t have worked to have a brave, sensible character like her in this story. Mind you, I’d have quite happily read a book about Nicola and Miranda wandering around London having deep and meaningful conversations…

I’d hoped the next book would be a school book, but it’s The Ready Made Family.

You might also be interested in reading:

The Thuggery Affair, Part One
The Thuggery Affair, Part Two
The Thuggery Affair, Part Three
The Thuggery Affair, Part Four
The Thuggery Affair, Part Five
The Thuggery Affair, Part Six

5 thoughts on “‘The Thuggery Affair’, Part Seven”

  1. “I’d have quite happily read a book about Nicola and Miranda wandering around London having deep and meaningful conversations…” Oh, me too – that sounds like the best Forest book never written.

  2. I really want that Nicola and Miranda book now!

    The general consensus on Thuggery seems to be ‘flawed but interesting.’ Like Jukie, I get a bit impatient with Patrick tying himself up in knots over theological niceties.

    It took me a couple of readings to realise that the events of the book take place over one 24 hour period!

    Don’t worry, Michelle, Ready-Made Family is really good 🙂 And then it’s my favourite of the school stories, Cricket Term! So plenty of good stuff to come… (But you can stop after that if you like. I won’t mind.)

  3. I’ll second Kate – Ready Made Family is easily my favourite of the holiday stories; sometimes I even think it’s my favourite out of all of them, but then Cricket Term usually just pips it to the post.
    I’d suggest you kept going through Attic Term though – it is the weakest of the school stories but there are some bits of it that I’d be sorry to miss.

    1. I’m afraid I have now joined the Cult of Marlow so will probably end up reading all of them, even the terrible ones. After all, I made it through The Thuggery Affair, didn’t I? I’m relieved to hear the next two books are good ones, though. So far End of Term has been my favourite.

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