46

Danny

 

 

            He wanted to lie in bed with her all day.  He found the weekends glorious.  No hurry, no need for intrusive alarm clocks, no need for her to climb groggily out of bed, leaving him all alone.  He would usually wake up first, eyes blinking up at the cream coloured ceiling, as he tried to work out where he was.  Then he would automatically grin to himself.  So much for taking things slowly, he would think.  He had hardly spent a minute at Michael’s flat lately.  He would feel her lying next to him, warm and close, her hair across the pillow, and he would wriggle onto his side to stare at her for a while.  She was getting paranoid about her cheeks getting chubby, but Danny thought the little bit of extra weight suited her.  She was glowing, or so his mother said every time she set eyes on her.  Danny could see what she meant.  There was a warmth that radiated from Lucy, and he remembered if from across the classroom when he had first met her.  He had wanted to reach out and touch it, and use it to pull himself into it.

This morning his eyes tracked down to her neat little stomach, popping out over the waistband of her pyjama trousers.  He watched it for a moment, totally fascinated by the way it moved in and out as she breathed softly in her sleep.  They had the scan photos on the bedside table.  Lucy was going to buy a frame to put them in.  She was twenty weeks pregnant now, Danny remembered.  It had taken a while for the language to seep in.  He had felt like they were all talking in an alien tongue at the hospital on the day of the scan.  Lucy seemed to know exactly what everything meant though.  She had giggled when the midwife spread the clear jelly on her bare stomach, and her hand had reached out for his.  His heart had been hammering wildly inside his chest, and when the picture came up on the screen, he had been totally shocked by the force of his emotions.  He hadn’t expected it to hit him like that.  He was enthralled and bowled over to be back together with Lucy, but the dad thing had still been a huge fear, unknown territory, scary for so many reasons.  But seeing the baby on the screen had been unbelievable.  It had changed everything.

It had a sweet little face, incredibly rounded cheeks and full lips like him.  It’s fists were curled up under its chin, and its legs were crossed over at the ankles, knees firmly pressed together.  “Do you want to know the sex?” the midwife had questioned them.  Danny had been staring in disbelief at the screen, so Lucy had answered for them.

“No thank you.  We want it to be surprise.”

A surprise.  It was that, alright.  What surprised Danny the most was how much he suddenly wanted it.  He hadn’t thought it possible.  A part of him had wanted Lucy back so much, that agreeing to be involved with the baby too had almost been an afterthought.  Okay, he had thought, I’ll see how it goes, I’ll try.  But now he knew he didn’t have to try, he just wanted it. 

Now he lay on his side, with one hand placed carefully upon Lucy’s belly.  She could feel it kicking now, but he had yet to experience one.  She snored on gently beside him, so he kept his hand there, hoping.  He felt a deep sense of belonging and satisfaction, and realised with a jolt that he had never really experienced either, before now.  It was like everything suddenly made sense, he thought, watching his hand on her belly.  It was like everything had somehow fallen into place, that day in the hospital, watching that little baby, their little baby on the screen.  It had made him remember the night of his fourteenth birthday party, before everything had kicked off, before Howard had got rid of Anthony and shown him what he was dealing with.  He and Lucy, cuddling at the kitchen table, her dopey and drunk, snuggling into his chest, while he stroked her hair back.  She had asked about his real dad, where he was, why he wasn’t in contact.  It was another thing he had liked about her.  She wanted to have proper, interesting conversations, and she was not afraid to ask things that other people would do their best to avoid.  They had talked about it, and she had said how rotten it was for a dad to do that, to not be there for him.  She had repeated her own mothers’ view on children, that they were the most precious things in your life, or they should be.  She had said it then, hadn’t she?  How she would find having a child the most precious thing in the world, and then she had lifted her head and looked at him with her make up smudged all over her face, and she had pressed her finger against his cut lip.  I think I’m going to marry you, one day, she had said.  He could still remember how those words had set his heart on fire.  How the warmth from her had seeped into him, and spread through his blood, through his veins, making everything that was scary and unfair, just a grey blur behind him.  Because she was in front of him, she was beside him, and that was all okay.

And then the shit had hit the fan.  Everything had fallen apart around him.  His mother had not had a clue what her new boyfriend was capable of.  Danny had spent more time on the floor than standing, in that house.  He felt the baby move then, just a ripple under his palm, at the same time he saw himself in his mind, lying on the kitchen floor with Lee Howard’s foot crushing down on his chest. He remembered painfully that Lee Howard had two main ways to hold him in place, one was by the neck, and the other was by standing on him.  He felt the ripple again, like a little tidal wave of life under his hand, and he almost pulled away, not wanting to taint the baby with his own grim memories. 

He didn’t want to think about it, he didn’t want those images in his mind, or those trembles of fear on his skin, but he had to.  He had to.  It wasn’t over yet, and he needed it to be over.  He had more reason than ever to make it all go away.  He kept his hand on the baby, while Lucy slept on, and he looked back up at the ceiling, forcing himself to think.

He had made the call, and spoken to Jerry Howard, while his mother snored anxiously against his shoulder.  Not many words had been spoken.  “I want to see you,” he had said. “To sort this all out.”

“You know what I want.  You gonna’ give it to me?”  The man’s voice had been low and nasal, but still brought back searing memories of his son’s gruff tones.

“Give me a time and a place and I’ll be there,” he had replied stiffly.  And so it was arranged.  In three days time he, Anthony and Michael would drive to a location that was yet to be confirmed.  Jerry Howard had said he was a busy man, hard to pin down, and would tell them the place the day before.  Danny didn’t know quite what to make of this, but saw that he didn’t have a choice in the matter.  He had not told Jerry that he would not be alone, he didn’t see the sense in that.  Like Anthony had said more than once, it could all be some kind of trap.  He had kept his mother out of it.  She wanted to know when and where he was meeting Lee’s dad, but Danny told her nothing was sorted yet.

It was a dark heavy thing, he thought, hanging right there over his head.  And there, under his hand, was a different thing altogether, a light and amazing thing, something breathtaking in its beauty and its promise.  He felt joined with Lucy, joined together like a forcefield around the unborn baby.  He promised himself he would do what his own father had failed to do for him.  He would stand by that child, never leave it, no matter what.  He would never ever let anything bad happen to it.

So, this had to be sorted out.  One way or another.  Anthony wanted to know if he had a plan, if he was going to give Howard the money he wanted.  If he was going to give the man any of the things he wanted.  Danny still didn’t know.  He didn’t know what assurances Howard would give him, that if he played it his way, it really would be over.  How was he to know it would just carry on regardless?  That Lucy would be targeted again.  And the baby?

Fear and rage bubbled inside him and he rolled over then, away from Lucy and the baby, reaching out to the bedside table for his phone.  Just as he picked it up to see what time it was, it rang in his hands, making him jump.  Lucy stirred beside him, but then rolled over and went back to sleep. Danny saw that it was Michael, and hopped quickly out of bed in his boxer shorts. “Mike?” he whispered, heading out of the bedroom.

“Yeah, why you whispering?”

“Was in bed.  Lucy’s still asleep,” Danny replied, closing the bedroom door softly behind him and padding into the kitchen to put the kettle on. “She’s flat out mate.  Has to get up so early for work all week, it really takes it out of her. I’m gonna’ let her sleep all day if she needs to.”

There was a snigger from the other end of the phone.  “Get you mate.  How bloody sweet!”

“Shut up.  What do you want?”

“I’ve got news.  Not good news.”

“Oh,” Danny felt his heart sink, and sighed as he rinsed out a mug from the day before and grabbed the milk from the fridge.  “Should I be sat down?” he joked weakly.

“Can you get away for a bit?” Michael asked. “We need to talk, me you and Anthony.  There’s stuff to tell you, and anyway, we need to work out our plan for, you know.”

Danny groaned.  But he knew it was all inevitable, and there was no point in railing against it. “I’ll come over to yours then,” he agreed. “Give me an hour.  Or can you pick me up?”

“Pick you up mate?  I’m already parked outside.”

Danny frowned, went to the kitchen window and peered out.  Michael and Anthony were sat out there in Mike’s rusty old Escort.  They waved up at him obligingly.  He waved back unsurely.  “Bloodyhell Mike.”

Danny got dressed, wrote a note for Lucy and placed it on his pillow for her to find.  He looked at Kurt, still curled into a tight ball at the bottom of their bed, and thought about taking him.  He decided against it at the last moment, striding from the flat without him. “What’s the emergency?” he asked immediately, when he climbed into the back of the car.  Michael started the engine and drove off.  Anthony turned to look at him.  His face was taut with tension and unease.

“I met up with Jaime Lawler the other day,” he told him.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Took me a while to track him down actually. Seemed like he didn’t want to hear from me. But when I finally got to speak to him, he agreed to meet me.”

Danny looked from Anthony to Michael.  He could see his face in the wing mirror, and he was frowning deeply. “What did you want to meet him for?” he asked Anthony.

“Well, last time I bumped into him, he was still living in Redchurch you know, still hanging around the old haunts.  I got the impression he wasn’t exactly living a straight life yet either.” Anthony grimaced and shrugged. “I wanted to see what he knew…about Freeman, and Howard, you know?”

Danny nodded slowly. “And did he?  Know anything?”

“Oh yeah,” Anthony nodded quickly. “He basically works for the fuckers.”

Danny’s mouth fell open in surprise.  If he had been expecting to hear anything at all, it had not been that. “What?  How?”

“What do you reckon?  Drug dealing, that’s what.  The fella’ didn’t learn his lesson, that’s for sure.” Anthony sighed and shook his hair back from his forehead, as Danny attempted to let it all sink in.  He still remembered the last time he had seen Jaime Lawler, the night he had called him from the phone box.  He had been as scared as the rest of them by then.  He had sworn he was keeping well away from it all.

“But drug dealing for who?”

“This is where it gets even more interesting,” Michael spoke up.

“Yeah,” agreed Anthony. “Okay.  When Lee died, he supposedly left half the club to your mum and half to Freeman, right?” Danny nodded silently.  “Well for whatever reason, Jerry ended up buying the lot.  Owning the whole thing.  Plus, when Freeman said he used his money to buy into the White Horse, he was also lying.  Jerry Howard already owned that place, and employed him to manage it.  In other words, he got Freeman back here, and put him in there.”

Danny touched his forehead.  They were careering back to Belfield Park.  He felt like his brain was being pounded from all sides.  “But why?” he asked again, looking to Anthony for the answers. 

“Not really sure,” he replied. “But I’m guessing several reasons.  To keep him under control, to keep him where he could see him, that kind of thing? Or to get him supplying drugs to the Uni students there? I mean, Freeman would probably have jumped at the chance, right?  His own pub, easy ready money, power? Makes sense.”

“So what about K’s? Howler, whatever it’s called?”

“Same thing.  Well, he puts another meathead in charge of that place. You know that big guy that attacked you the other week?  His name is Nick Groves.  He and Lee were good friends apparently, and so I’m guessing it was pretty easy for Jerry to convince him to come this way and run a club for him.”

They had pulled into the alley behind Michael’s flat.  Without talking, all three of them got out of the car, and headed to the flat, shooting distrustful glances up and down the alley, and over their shoulders as they went.  It was cold in the flat.  Michael dashed about, switching the central heating on, and making cups of tea, while Anthony and Danny lit up cigarettes in the lounge.  Danny sat on the sofa, smoked and tried to absorb it all.  He stared down at the tatty carpet beneath his feet, and felt an eerie chill settling over him, that had nothing to do with the cold flat.  Jerry Howard was starting to seem like some kind of God, he thought, playing with peoples lives, moving them around like pawns in a chess game, setting them up for battle.  It was striking how similar his behaviour was to Lee’s.  That was exactly how he had operated.  Controlling them all.  All the power at his fingertips. 

Michael came in with the tea and the conversation began again. “So,” said Anthony, leaning forward beside Danny, tea in one hand and smoke in the other. “Jaime ends up getting dragged back into it all.  God knows how.  He looks a state, by the way. Looks like he takes more drugs than he sells, you know.  Felt sorry for him really.  He doesn’t know any other way.”

“So Jerry Howard has Freeman in a pub, Groves in the club, all drug dealing or whatever, but why?” Danny looked sideways at Anthony.  He thought he knew the answer, so it seemed like a dumb question, but it needed asking all the same. “Why do all that?  When did he do all that?”

“After Lee died,” shrugged Michael from the armchair.  “Seems like he moved down here. Started pulling strings, moving people about.”

“And you know why,” said Anthony.

Danny nodded grimly. “To prepare for my release.  To get me back for killing his son.  It all makes sense.” He released a mammoth sigh and buried his face in his hands for a moment or two.  “Unbelievable,” he murmured, although it really wasn’t.  Like he had said, it all made perfect sense.  “So he had this whole harassment campaign in motion eight fucking years ago.  Great. What a lovely man.  I am so looking forward to meeting him again!”

“That’s not all,” he heard Anthony mutter next to him.  Danny dropped his hands and stared at him in dismay.

“Fuck me, what else?”

He watched Anthony open his mouth, look at Michael, then close his mouth again, as if he did not know how to say it.  He swallowed instead, cleared his throat, and had another go.  “Haskell,” he said.  Danny sat up straighter.

“What about her?”

“In on it.  From the start too.  Howard must have hooked up with her back then, when the story broke, when she was sniffing around it all.”

Danny felt like he had suddenly forgotten how to breathe. He stared at Anthony, until it seemed like he was choking on nothing.  He got to his feet abruptly, instant rage falling over him.  He felt them watching him.  He wanted to explode.  He wanted to hit something, smash something, kill something.  “You must be fucking joking,” he managed to utter, stalking around the other side of the sofa.  Anthony and Michael swapped anxious looks.

“Told you not to trust her,” said Michael darkly.

“Why?  Why would she?  How?  I don’t fucking get it!” Danny shook his head, tried to calm himself down, but it was almost impossible.  He walked over to the wall and kicked it hard.  It hurt his foot but he wanted to kick it harder.  He felt like an idiot, a fool. He knew they must all be laughing at him, all of them!

“Because she’s a bitch, that’s why!” Michael called out from behind. “She’s a hard-nosed bitch, who was prepared to do anything to get her fucking story, that’s why.  She’s been helping them all along.  Helping them keep tabs on us.”

“That’s how they found it so easy to target us, when you got out,” Anthony explained, facing him.  “The bricks through the window, the letters, everything.  She knew where we all lived.  She knew everything, from being a reporter.”

“But why did she need them?” Danny turned from the wall, red faced and shaking with rage. 

“She’d do anything to get closer to you,” shrugged Anthony sadly. “To get closer to the story.  We all told her to piss off back then, didn’t we?  None of us would speak to her.  I bet Jerry Howard did.  I bet he was really fucking friendly to her.  But he made her wait, didn’t he?  He must have convinced her that the bigger story was worth waiting for.  Waiting eight fucking years for.”

Danny smoked the last of his cigarette and leaned over Anthony to hurl it angrily at the ashtray.  He plunged his hands desperately back through his hair. “Bitch,” was all he could think to say.  “Fucking conniving, cheating, lying, dirty, nasty skanky bitch!”

“It all adds up,” Michael went on.  “The only reason you agreed to do the interview with her, was because of the shit we were all getting.  Remember?  You wanted to know the names and the addresses, to sort it out.  She got you that, at a price.  But her helping you get to them, was the only reason you agreed to tell her your story, right?

Danny nodded silently.  He closed his eyes.  Pulled his hands back down from his hair, and onto his face.  “They were all behind it.  Them harassing me pushed me into doing the interview.  She got what she wanted.  She gave them what they wanted.  Fucking treacherous whore!”

“You have to stay focused though,” Anthony said then, rising from the sofa and walking around it to Danny. “We’re one step ahead now, mate, as long as Jaime Lawler keeps his fucking mouth shut. They don’t know we know all this! They don’t know we have Jaime on side.  You’ve got to stay cool, don’t let it get to you.”

“But for fucks sake!” Danny wailed then, dropping his hands to stare at Anthony in utter misery. “I slept with that nasty bitch! She used me! It’s disgusting, it makes me feel sick! It’s like she’s this parasite, that feeds on other people’s misery!”

“That’s exactly what she is,” Michael piped up.  “I knew it mate.  I knew it the first time I laid eyes on her.  She’s a shark.”

“She sat there and listened to it all,” Danny’s arms hung at his sides.  He felt the anger dripping away steadily now, to be replaced by a dismal sense of bewilderment and sadness. “She fucking sat there and listened, each time, to me talking about Howard, and Freeman, and all the shit they did to me.  She sat and listened to that, she dragged it out of me, and all the time she’s fucking working for the cunts!  How can she do that? How can she help them, after what they did?”

Anthony blew out his breath, his hands on his hips.  “I don’t know mate.  I don’t know.  I’ll never understand it either.  Some people are just evil.  Twisted.  They’ve got no good in their own lives, so they feel no guilt about destroying other peoples. You can’t let it get to you now though.  You have to stay focused.  It’s nearly over.”

“Only if I give him what he wants.”

“And are you going to?” asked Michael, now also getting up from his chair, and crossing the room to stand beside Anthony. Danny looked bereft.

“I have no idea yet.”

“We need to take some action,” said Anthony. “We need to prompt Howard to give us the location, so we can work out what to do.  Have you got his number on you now?”

Danny’s shoulders slumped as he pulled out his phone and passed it to Anthony, who started to scroll through the contacts.  “I’m gonna’ send him a text,” he said.  “Tell him to decide on the place, or it’s all off.  See if that kicks his arse into gear.”

Danny just watched.  He saw Anthony’s face, that familiar serious frown, those dark eyes puzzling over it all, trying to work out what to do. He saw him taking control, like he had done so many times back then, and he gave in for a moment, letting him.  His mind travelled back to the bed he had woken up in just over an hour ago.  It seemed like days ago.  He thought of Lucy, still there, and pictured her curled up on her side, the way he had left her, with Kurt at the end of the bed, and the baby, rippling gently inside her stomach. He swallowed the hard lump that had formed in his throat, and thought he would do anything just to get back to them, just to crawl back under the duvet and curl up with them, and just hide from it all.  Just wait for it all to go away.

Anthony sent the text and pushed the phone into Danny’s chest.  “There,” he said firmly.  “Now let’s see what happens.”

47

Michael

 

            Michael slept well that night.  He woke once, confused by the amount of sleep he had already enjoyed, and realised that he probably had not slept well for weeks now.  How could anyone sleep well when they felt under siege?  When a brick, or something even worse could come through the window at any moment?  He had kept a distance from Zach and Jenny, just in case.  He had completely changed his routine, he had become so fearful of being watched.  If he wanted to see Zach, he arranged with Jenny to meet him in a public place somewhere, like the indoor play centre, or the park, a different place each time.  This way he and Zach had fun, and he didn’t have to worry too much about leading the bad guys to his son, or Jenny.  Jenny.  He and Jenny had shared a few moments lately.  Sometimes when he looked into her open, honest face, he could almost see the life he should have been living all along.  It tugged at his heart constantly.  It was becoming harder and harder to be apart from Zach, and from her. 

Jenny had dumped her boyfriend.  She liked to try to assure Michael that it had nothing to do with him.  That things had not been going too well between them for some time, and she just hadn’t had the guts to end it.  She was single, and she told him she planned to stay that way, and just focus on Zach.  She told him this with a look in her eye that told him something else altogether.  When this shit is all over, when it’s safe again, I’ll do something, I’ll make my move.  Michael found himself daydreaming about them all being together again.  He was older now, more mature.  He didn’t want Zach to grow up without him.  He wanted to be the one who tucked him up in bed at night, and he wanted to be there in the morning when he bounced out of bed, wanting his daddy.  It all seemed so simple, so refreshingly close, just within his reach, if he wanted it.  He had started to view his bachelor pad with increasing distain and unease.  Anthony had been right all along.  He had been living his life in one spot.  Unable to move on.  Clinging to the old days out of some sense of loyalty to Danny, who was unable to move on either in prison.

Michael woke up that morning, nodding to himself as he yawned.  He had slept well, and the wheels were in motion.  Before long, one way or another, it would all be over, wouldn’t it?  He had to believe it, just like they did.  They had talked the night away, they had chased the demons from the shadows, just like in the old days.  It was like brushing the cobwebs down from the ceiling.  Starting anew.  Or it would be, once it was all over, because surely they all deserved it now? 

He swung his legs out of bed, pulled on his jeans and grabbed the nearest t-shirt he could find to yank over his messy hair.  Anthony and Chrissie, he thought, as he yawned again, they would be alright again when this was all done.  Anthony would not have to lie to her any longer.  Maybe she would learn to understand?  Maybe she would be okay with Danny, now he was going to be a dad?  The thought made Michael smile as he dragged some clean socks from his underwear drawer and pulled them on.  Danny, a dad.  It really was quite funny.  He enjoyed teasing him about it, now that he finally seemed up for it.  It was nice.  It was normal.  It was what people did, wasn’t it?  Met nice girls, had kids, lived a decent life.  They would all make a better job of it than their own parents, that was for sure.  Michael made sure to tell Danny this on a daily basis.  “Even I’m a better dad than mine was, even me, so you bloody will be too.  We won’t make the same mistakes.”

As he left the room, and nearly bumped into a blurry eyed Danny, Michael heard his phone already starting to harass him.  He rolled his eyes at Danny, who blundered sleepily into the bathroom, and located his mobile leaping around energetically on the coffee table in the lounge.  Anthony. “Morning bro!”

“Morning, you both up?”

“Yes sir, up sir, ready to go sir!”

“Don’t be a dick Mike. Listen, I’m off to work now, but call me or text me when you get the go ahead okay?  I’ll pull a sicky if I have to. If not, Chrissie already thinks I’m meeting you to watch the football later, okay?  Then I’ll text her and say I’ve had a few drinks and will be home late.”

“You lying, cheating, dastardly…”

“Shut up,” Anthony groaned. “See you later.”

Michael ended the call just as Danny reappeared from the bathroom.  “Sleep well?” he enquired with a knowing grin.  Danny already had his phone in his hand.

“Not that well, no, funnily enough. It feels like before an exam at school, you know?” he rubbed one hand against his stomach and grimaced.  “Feel all weird and knotted up.  I’ve arranged to meet Lucy when she has her break at lunch.  I won’t tell her much.  I just want to…” he shrugged his shoulders at Michael. “You know.”

“You’re gonna’ be alright you twat!” Michael roared at him, coming forward to slap him on the shoulder. “You look like we’re about to send you into the lions den for fucks sake.”

“Well it feels that way.  The club, of all places?” Danny looked with wide eyes around himself, as if still trying to come to terms with it.  “Why there? I get the feeling Jaime Lawler has spilled his guts, you know?  We’re not meant to know Howard has anything to do with that place.”

“Well that’s why we’re going to track the little scroat down now, isn’t it?  He won’t be hard to find. Come on, get ready.  We’ll get breakfast when we’re out.”

“What about Kurt?”

“Better leave him here,” Michael said, glancing at the little dog who, as always, was winding himself in and out of Danny’s legs.  “Think it’s gonna’ be a long day, mate.”

 

They drove silently out of Belfield park, following Barrack road, past Lucy’s flat, and towards Redchurch.  Michael pulled into the McDonalds along Somerley road and ordered them breakfast from the drive through.  They ate in the car in the car park facing the main road.  “I can still remember driving this way, when we first moved here,” Danny said after a long silence.  “Following the removal van.  You remember, those first few days after we moved in, how you and Billy and Jake tried to psyche me out? Riding your bikes around and around outside the house?” He looked at Michael with a tired smile.  Michael swallowed the lump of fries in his mouth and wiped his face with a napkin.

“Course I remember. It may have looked like we were trying to start shit with you, but really I was just so bored, I just wanted to know who you were!”

Danny stifled a giggle, as they both stared back at the road. “And all those mornings,” he went on, “we’d cross that road on our bikes, go onto Somerley estate to get to school.”

“When you actually went to school!” laughed Michael. “Christ, even I had a better attendance record than you.”

“Yeah.” Danny looked down then, his expression troubled. “Well. Life was alright for a while wasn’t it?  Remember all those tricks we played on John Bradley?  I wonder what ever happened to him.”

“Retired, last I heard.  Where shall we start mate?  I’ve called him twice on the number Anthony had, but he’s not picking up.”

Danny nodded grimly. “Start wherever,” he sighed. “Let’s do it.  Shit, I shouldn’t have eaten that, I feel sicker than ever now.” He blew out his breath and pushed his hair back with one hand.  “Come on then.  Let’s take a wander down memory lane, eh?”

“It won’t all be bad,” Michael laughed at him. “You probably needed to do it sooner or later.”

He balled up the rubbish and hurled it onto the back seat, started the engine and screeched the car out of the car park and back onto Somerley road.  They crawled around the old estate first.  Michael had his own knot of dread building in the pit of his belly by now.  He could barely even look at Danny to see how it was all registering on his face.  They drove slowly past Danny’s old house.  The front lawn was littered with kids toys; bikes and scooters and footballs.  Michael glanced up at the top window, recalling how he had climbed up the trellis and in through the window, desperate to see how his friend was.  “Never forget climbing up there to see you,” he shook his head and murmured. “Fucking shit myself, with that gorilla sat downstairs the whole time.” 

“It was brave of you,” Danny returned, staring at the house. “Christ,” he said then, taking another deep and shaky breath.  “The things that went on in that house.” He shuddered, and reached for the pack of cigarettes he had slung onto the dash board.  They drove on, around the roads, circling their old stomping grounds, much the way they had circled it on their bikes as kids.  Michael noted that not much had changed.  It all looked eerily the same.  He felt that if he stared hard enough, he would see himself as a teenager, leaning over the handlebars of his bike, trying to look cool by smoking a cigarette. 

They drove back out onto Somerley road, took a right, and began another slow crawl around the bigger estate.  Jaime Lawler’s family had lived here.  Michael quickly found the house, pointing it out to Danny, and accepting the cigarette he had lit for him.  “I’ll knock,” he said, parking up and opening the door. “See if they still live there.”

 

Five minutes later they were back in the car and driving more purposefully, back into town, Michael chanting the address over and over inside his head.  It was not the same address Jaime had had years ago, but it was close by.  They drove down the high street, took the left onto Barrack road, and then turned right.  Close to the railway lines, there were several blocks of new build flats.  The sort of one and two bedroom dwellings that landlords liked to buy into then rent out to people on benefits.  They parked out the front of one, and got out of the car.  Michael glanced once at Danny, as they paced up to the main door and pressed the buzzer. He looked grey, he thought, grey and sick.  He hoped some of the old fight would make a comeback before this day was done.  The buzzer made a crunching sound and a rasping voice came back at them; “yeah?”

“Jaime, it’s Michael and Danny. Let us up.”

There was a silence before the buzzer crunched again. “You cunts. What you doing here? You’re gonna’ get me killed!”

“You better let us up then,” Michael advised him. “Before we’re seen out here.”

“Fuck.”

It worked though, and they were let in.  They ran silently up to the second floor.  Jaime Lawler had his door open already, and was peering out at them, as they came down the corridor towards him.  Michael could already see what Anthony had meant about him.  He looked at least ten years older than he was.  He was noticeably thinner, and he had been a thin man eight years back.  As they approached, he stepped back into his flat, and they followed him in, immediately greeted by the strong smell of weed.  Michael looked at Danny and made a face.  Danny closed the door behind them and let his breath back out again.

“What do you want, for Christs sake?” Jaime was already complaining, still doing that little dance of his, shifting from one foot to the other, while his hands fiddled with his baseball cap, and his eyes shot about everywhere as if they were too scared to settled on anything for too long.  He crammed the dirty blue hat onto his head and twisted it from one side to the other. “I’m fucking serious, you’ll get me killed! Between you and your brother! Bloody hell!”

“We won’t be long,” Danny spoke up then, leaning against the door as if he was reluctant to come in any further than that. “Good to see you Jaime. It’s been a while.”

Jaime lifted a thin hand and scratched viciously at the back of his head, making the cap bounce back and forth on his forehead. He was frowning deeply as he took Danny in, his eyes running quickly over him, his feet shifting about on the threadbare grey carpet. “Yeah, yeah, it has, yeah, but this isn’t good, you know?  You two here like this! I’ve had enough, I don’t wanna’ know about any of it, you know? That’s why I didn’t answer my phone!”

He looked terrified, Michael thought, watching him.  He leaned against the door frame of what looked like the kitchen, placed his hands in his pockets, and then changed his mind quickly, jerking away from the door frame, adjusting his cap, and gesturing wildly around at his flat.  “You just can’t come here!” he hissed at them. Michael looked around.  The place was a mess.  It made his own flat look like a pleasant family home, he thought.  The smell of marijuana was thick in the air.

“We’re seeing Jerry Howard later,” Michael said, watching the fear leap immediately to life on Jaime’s haggard face.  “At the club.  Did you tell him anything, Jaime?  Did you spill the beans after you saw Anthony?”

Jaime moaned, rolled his eyes and loped away from the kitchen, dragging his feet as he entered the small lounge.  Michael and Danny followed cautiously.  They found Jaime perched on the edge of a battered green sofa, fiddling with the contents of a little tin on his lap.  Michael nodded, and glanced at Danny again, who paused in the doorway, arms folded.  “You guys still smoke?” Jaime asked, not looking up. “I’ll roll us a big fat one.  You’re gonna’ need it today you crazy fucking aresholes.”

“No thanks,” Michael shook his head. “Come on then, are you gonna’ be straight with us? Why did he tell Danny to come to the club tonight?  Why there?”

“How the fucking fuck should I know?” Jaime looked up, his grey eyes raging for a moment. “Why’d you have to come and ask me for, eh?  I want to be left out of it, I just told you that!”

“Does he know you saw Anthony?” Danny asked from the doorway. “That’s all we need to know Jaime.  You really came through for us, you know.  Telling Anthony all that stuff, about the club, and Haskell.  We’re grateful.”

“Yeah, we’re grateful,” Michael agreed, watching Jaime stuff a roach nervously into the end of the joint.  “But what happened then, mate?  You seem nervy as fuck.”

“Yeah, alright, alright!” Jaime shouted at them from the sofa, drumming his feet violently against the floor. Michael narrowed his eyes at him.  Something was different about the guy, he thought.  He had always been shady, always been trouble, but something had changed.  He looked like a nervous wreck, and he looked like he wanted to leap out of the window to get away from them. “Alright, have it your way, have it your way you fuckers! Yeah, he knows I saw Anthony, alright? Don’t ask me how, but he knows, so I’m in trouble, and so are you, and this whole thing is gonna’ blow right up in your fucking stupid faces, and the best thing you idiots can fucking do, is just get out of here and disappear! Right?”

He jammed the joint between his bad teeth and lit the end, inhaling long and deep, as Danny and Michael looked on.  “What’s wrong with you?” Michael questioned, his tone gentler suddenly. “You’re not the same Jaime.  What have they done to you?”

Jaime laughed, hurled himself backwards on the sofa, and stayed there, his thin legs spread wide apart.  His tatty white tracksuit jacket looked like it had seen better days, and the cuffs rode up his forearms every time he moved.  He puffed smoke across the room, then instantly took the spliff back to his lips for another drag. It was then that Michael saw the marks on the inside of his forearm.  “I work for them, didn’t Anthony tell you?  They pay my bills, right?  I don’t wanna’ fall out with them do I?”

“How could you go back to that?” Danny asked, in dismay. “After everything that happened?  You knew about Freeman, you knew it all.  How could you go back to being their errand boy?  Fucking up more lives?  You said you’d stay away Jaime.”

“Easier said than done, Danny boy!” Jaime cackled, his face split by a huge, gap-toothed grin.  Michael moved forward slowly then.

“Or is there another reason?” he asked, grabbing hold of one of Jaime’s wrists and quickly shoving up the sleeve. The bruises and marks went all the way up.  Jaime hissed in rage and leapt up from the sofa, practically flying across the room to get away from Michael.  “Heroin Jaime? I never thought even you would be that dumb.”

“Oh give me a break, give me a break,” Jaime said, his voice whining, as he pulled down his sleeves, wrapped one arm around his ribs and smoked his spliff. Danny looked on in horror.

“Jaime!  You idiot!”

“For how long?” asked Michael.  Jaime shrugged, his eyes dark and defiant.

“I don’t know, few years, on and off,” he grumbled at them. “Oh don’t fucking start right? I’ve tried it all! I’ve been on programmes, I’ve been on methadone, the fucking works right?  I’ve tried it, I’ve tried it, I’ve tried it!”

“So if you piss Howard off, you don’t get your drugs, is that right?” Danny asked from the doorway. “That’s how they got you by the short and curlies, eh? That’s it, isn’t it?”

“You try being me!” Jaime shot back, pointing his finger viciously their way. “It’s fucking impossible!  I need that stuff, right?  I need it.  The pain, right, the pain is fucking unbearable!” He paced about in the small space he had positioned himself in.  Michael looked around, noting how bare the room was.  Just one sofa, a small table, and a large chunky television on a box in the corner. “I’m feeling like shit, right now see?  You have no idea!  I just have to fucking wait!”

“Wait for what?” asked Michael.  He swapped a look with Danny, and knew he was feeling exactly like him.  He wanted to get the hell out of there as quickly as he did. “A delivery?”

“Just go, right?” Jaime stopped pacing and leaned against the wall, putting one grubby trainer back against it to steady himself.  He smoked the spliff, watching them through slitted grey eyes. “You can’t help me.  I’ve done all I can to help you.  You do what the fuck you want now, yeah? You can’t trust me, right?  I work for Howard.  He’s my boss. Just like in the old days, eh?  You remember that Danny boy? Howard was always the boss wasn’t he?  Till you took him out.  But then the old man took over, and he’s ten times fucking worse.  You ought to knife him too!” He tipped his head back then, cackling with unstable laughter. “You should! Go on do it! Go round there tonight with all your knives again, mate! Show the twisted old fucker what you’re made of! Fight back, remember that?  That’s what you said to me last time I saw you kid.  Fight back.  You still fighting back, eh?  ‘Cause if you are you’re a braver man than I’ll ever be.  I’m tellin’ you.  Fuck that shit.”

“I think we better go,” Danny spoke softly from behind.  Michael nodded in agreement.

“You take care of yourself,” he said to Jaime, and he meant it. “You did a hell of a lot to help us Jaime.  You should remember that.  It’s not too late to start again.”

“Nah, nah,” Jaime shook his head violently, and tightened his arm around his middle. “Too late Mike, I like my gear too much, I do! In love with it I fucking am.”

“Thanks Jaime,” Danny came forward then, quickly, as if he knew he wouldn’t if he thought about it twice.  He grabbed Jaime’s hand and shook it firmly, while staring him right in the eye. “Things would have been a lot worse for me, if you hadn’t helped Anthony back then.  I just want you to know that.”

“And things would have been a lot better for you if I hadn’t helped you out that night,” Jaime replied quietly, his eyes still for once, focused on Danny. “But good of you to say it mate.  Good luck.”

Danny nodded, dropped his hand and walked out of the flat.  Michael patted Jaime on the arm. He wanted to say something else, something meaningful, something that might inspire him to start again, to get out from under the bad guys thumbs, but he couldn’t think of anything. There was nothing.  It was all so depressing.  It was worse than he had feared.  The man’s life was a horrible mess.  He turned and walked out of the flat.

44

Lucy

 

 

            She waited for him outside, at his request.  He said his mother was not feeling very well.  He said it in a slightly guarded, amused way, which suggested to Lucy that Kay had a hangover.  So she waited outside in her car, rubbing her hands together and fiddling with the heating, and unable to breathe for the fear bubbling and building inside of her.  She saw him come out of the block with his bag and his dog, and she had to look away, because it hurt too much.  She took deep breaths, sucking up the air and willing it to send calming signals to the rest of her body.

            He opened the door and climbed in beside her, with his bag and his dog on his lap, and an apprehensive look on his face.  The silence waited for one of them to speak.  For one of them to let the other one know everything was okay.  She wanted to let it be him.  They stared into eachothers eyes, until she felt her lips start to tremble and stretch.  She watched the amusement fill his eyes and wanted to hit him.  But it looked like someone had already done that.  “What’s so funny?” Lucy demanded suddenly, feigning anger, wondering if she ought to slap him across the face after all.

            Danny grinned, only it was a half grin, lopsided, and his eyes seemed to burn into hers.  Lucy wanted to grab his face and press her lips onto his.  She was suddenly and overwhelmingly reminded of her schoolgirl days.  Of watching him and wanting him from afar, of being too shy, too awkward to do anything about it.  Of lying on her bed scrawling into her diary, purging herself of the days wants and lusts, how he had brushed against her in the corridor, how their eyes had met twice across the classroom, that kind of thing.  Remembering made her want to hit him even more.

            “You,” he told her finally, pulling across his seat belt.  “Your face.  You look like you don’t know whether to hit me or what.”

            “Thought crossed my mind,” she replied wryly.  “But yet again it looks like someone has beaten me to it.  What happened?”

            “Same old story,” he said with a sigh, still grinning.  “I can tell you all about it if you want.  Lots to tell.”

            Lucy turned the key in the engine and started the car up.  “Well you better tell me then,” she said, not entirely sure how much of it she wanted to hear.  “I’ve got a feeling it’s gonna’ be a long day.”

            “You don’t mind?” he asked then, and she felt his hand on her arm.  She checked her mirrors, but did not pull out.

            “Mind?”

            “Me.  This.  I don’t deserve it really do I?”

            “I’ll let you off,” she smiled. “You’re a man.  You’re not the first to run off when a woman says she’s pregnant, and you won’t be the last I bet.”

            He sighed in relief, took his hand back.  “Okay.  Thanks. I don’t really know where to begin though.”

            “Who did that to you?”

            Danny nodded at her. “Good place to begin.  It was one of the guys who attacked me and Mike and Anthony in the pub?  He was a bit pissed off with me.  He was friends with Lee and Jack, and now they’re both dead.”

            Lucy stared at him open mouthed, before remembering to concentrate on her driving.  Luckily it was only a short drive back to her flat.  She hated driving when she was distracted, and the baby alone was enough of a distraction at the moment.  She had noticed her concentration skills had declined considerably, since the baby seemed to occupy every waking minute within her mind.  “Dead?”

            “Yeah, I only found out yesterday. Jack hung himself.  Did it to himself.  Though some might argue my mum had a bit of a hand in it.”

            Lucy shot him a quick look to register his expression.  He seemed incredibly calm, she thought, as if he had absorbed it all and come to terms with it somehow.  He looked back at the road, frowning through the windscreen. “You better explain,” she murmured, shaking her head, feeling lost with it all. Danny cleared his throat.  He could feel his eyes were on her, taking her in, watching her, but she had to watch the road.

            “She went to see him last week,” he said. “To have a go, or whatever.  To say her piece.  Then she tells him what else she did.  She put he’s a pervert all over the University message board, you know, and emails, phone calls, the lot.  Warning the students about him in the pub. The shit hit the fan and he topped himself.  With a sign saying ‘pervert’ hung around his neck, no less.”

            “Oh my God, Danny.”

            “I know.  I know.”

            “How do you feel about that?  I mean….Jesus Christ!”

            “I feel okay,” he shrugged beside her.  “He chose to do it didn’t he? Obviously he couldn’t live with himself anymore.  Mum only told the truth.  She let those kids know who he was, that’s all.”

            “Is she okay?”

            “She was hammered when I got there last night,” Danny replied with a small chuckle.  “A bit freaked out about it all, but she said she did it for me, she wanted to do something to make it up to me or whatever.  Fuck knows.  What a mess eh?”

            “I don’t even know what to say Danny.  I really don’t.”

            “Well it’s pretty much nearly all over, to be honest.”

            Lucy sucked in her breath. “How is it?”

            “Well I finished the interview with Caroline Haskell,” he paused for a moment, digging into his bag, and then waving a folder at her.  They caught eachothers eye accidentally then, and Lucy felt her stomach drop at the name of the woman.  “It’s all here.  Mum read it this morning.  You can have a look too, you know.  Because it’s pretty much the whole fucking story from beginning to end, you know, in case you wanna’ know…anyway,” he stuffed it back into the bag.  “So I’ve seen Dennis, Lee’s brother…and I’ve seen Freeman, God rest his soul, so now I’ve arranged to see the old man himself.  The puppet master!  The man behind all this loveliness.  I might get some answers, see.”

            “Are you sure you know what you are doing?” Lucy took the next left to her road and pulled up out the front.  “Won’t it be dangerous I mean?  What’re you going to say, or do?” 

            “It’s just the final piece,” he said, lifting and dropping his hands, as if he didn’t quite have the words to explain it.  Lucy turned the engine off.  She wanted to look at him but she was afraid to.  “I know what he wants from me.  I’m not sure if I’m gonna’ give it to him yet, I’ll see how things go.  But don’t worry. I’m taking Anthony and Mike with me, definitely.”

            Lucy could only manage a slight nod, as she stared at the steering wheel, and tugged the keys out of the ignition.  “Well, that’s good,” she said, uselessly.  She moved one hand without thinking, going for her stomach, the way she had grown accustomed to doing lately.  To hold the baby, to soothe it, to feel it there.  She stopped herself and sighed.  “Come on then,” she told him. “Let’s get the kettle on.”

            Danny followed her into the flat, with Kurt still in his arms.  Lucy filled the kettle silently, shooting a look his way, wondering what he was thinking, what he was doing here.  She grabbed two cups, watching him hanging about awkwardly, looking like he wanted to sit down, but was not brave enough to do it.  When the tea was made, she nodded to the lounge, and they went through.  Danny sat down and Kurt curled into a small ball on his knees.  Lucy wanted to laugh then.  “You and that bloody dog!” she said, with a smile, rolling her eyes. He narrowed his suspiciously.

            “What? You sound like my mum.”

            “You’re just surgically attached to each other, that’s all,” she shrugged, crossing one leg over the other, and self-consciously tugging her top down over her swelling belly.  “It’s all right, it’s sweet, it just makes me laugh, that’s all.”

            Danny smiled back, dropping a hand onto the little dog, who grunted and wriggled in appreciation.  “He’s getting so old now.  I’ve got to make the most of him haven’t I?”

            “It’s so sweet the way he remembered you,” Lucy sighed, settling back into the sofa with her tea between her hands.  “Amazing, really.”

            “Best present anyone ever gave me,” Danny looked at her and said. “My mum says I treat him like a baby.”

            Lucy felt her throat go dry.  She looked away from him, back down to the little dog.  “You do.  A bit.”

            A silence stretched out before them again.  Lucy bit at her lip, drank some tea, and had to pretend that it tasted nice, when for some reason it had gone back to tasting wrong.  She felt it gurgling unhappily in her knotted stomach, and wondered if morning sickness could come back when you thought you were past it.  She watched Danny drink his own tea, keeping one hand on Kurt the whole time.  She felt impatient suddenly then.   She didn’t want to hear about Caroline Haskell, or his mother, or Jack Freeman or any of those people.  She just wanted to know what he was doing here.  What did he want?

            “So you’re…” he looked at her briefly, frowned slightly, then glanced back down at Kurt, as if that were safer.  “You’re okay then?”

            “Yes. I’m okay,” she told him.  “I’m still pregnant.”

            “Oh.  Yes.  I know.”

            “Is that why you’re here?  Is that why you wanted to see me?”  Lucy stopped herself, biting her lip again and raising her cup to her mouth to sip more tea.  She told herself not to expect too much, not to hope for too much.  She saw him try to compose himself, but he just ended up looking confused.

            “Yeah,” he said finally, although he didn’t sound very sure to her.  “I mean, yeah, I wanted to see how you were.  And say sorry.”

            “Sorry for what?”

            “You know.  Running off.  Being a bastard.  Hitting the bottle.” He met her eyes again, grimaced sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders. 

            “I didn’t exactly make things easy for you either,” Lucy told him.  “I hurt you a lot, and I didn’t mean to.  Then I go and spring an unwanted pregnancy on you.  I know you said you didn’t want kids…but there you go.  This is where we are.  I’m keeping the baby Danny.  I already love it, if that makes sense.  What you want to do, or not do, is entirely up to you.”  She leaned forward then, unable to tolerate the tea any longer, and placed it on the coffee table.  “I’m not going to put pressure on you, or expect anything of you.  I’m here if you want me, as a friend, as more, whatever.  That’s all I have to say really.”  She folded her arms across her middle, felt the rise of her belly, and flattened her hand against it; hold on baby, hold on, give him a chance.

            Danny exhaled loudly.  “Okay,” he said slowly, hesitantly.  “I’ll be honest too then.  I do want you.” He looked at her then, and she felt her heart beating faster already, her cheeks warming up.  “I never stopped wanting you.  It fucking killed me when you said all that stuff on the beach…I do kind of get it now, I mean, my mum tried to help me understand…and I sort of do, but I just wanted to be with you, you know?  Whatever happened.  I just wanted to give it a go and see what happened with us.  And I guess, what I’m worried about now, among a million other things obviously, is maybe you just want me back now because…of…you know, the baby?”

He was really finding it difficult to look at her now, Lucy could tell.  She sat further forward, so that their knees were side by side, just touching.

            “I just look like a twat, don’t I?” she said with a wry smile.  “But life has a funny way of ripping the ground out from under your feet, have you noticed that?  I stand by the reasons I wanted us to have a break.  I was worried about us.  I’ll probably always worry about us.  But nothing changed how much I love you, and nothing ever will, you know?” He nodded silently beside her.  “I did it because I wanted you to be sure.  I just wanted you to have some time to yourself.”

            “Lucy, I had plenty of time to myself in prison, didn’t you think of that?”

            “No…I mean, yes.  Oh I don’t know Danny,” Lucy groaned, dropping her forehead into one hand and turning her face to look at him.

            “It kept me going in there you know,” he went on. “Thinking of me and you together at last.  Then you were there to meet me, and I just thought, okay here we go.  A decent, normal life.  That’s all I want, you know.”

            “But can you see how that puts so much pressure on us?” she asked him. “Being together as kids, dealing with all that shit, that was one thing.  Then eight years apart.  I mean, I know we saw each other and wrote to each other, but I guess I always kind of thought you would get out, see me for a bit, and then realise what else you could have.  What else is out there.”

            Danny was looking at her in amazement, shaking his head incredulously. “Lucy, is your self-esteem really that low?  Because I always kind of thought you were really confident and together!  Do you really think like that?  Did you really think I’d get bored of you and move on?”

            “I just didn’t want to cling onto you,” she shrugged, desperate to explain. “I didn’t feel I had any claim on you, any right to be with you, just because we were together back then. I just felt you needed time to spread your wings, you know, take your time, instead of jumping straight into a serious relationship.”

            “Okay, okay,” Danny said then, suddenly turning towards her and grasping her hands with his own.  Lucy was shocked, both by his sudden movement, and by the feel of his skin pressing against hers.  She felt her fingers curling into his, responding to the touch, clinging on.  “Can we just take things slowly then?  Can we just sort of pretend we’ve just met or something then?  You know, go on dates and keep it all fun and casual, that sort of thing?”

            Lucy wanted to cry.  She looked down at his hands, over hers and felt fingers lacing through hers, holding on.  “But what about the baby?”

            “The same thing,” he said, nodding. “One step at a time.  Take it slowly.  I can get my head around it, I know I can.  I’ll do anything Lucy, I just want to be with you.”

            “But do you think you’ll ever want it Danny?” she had to ask.  There was nothing she wanted more than to fling her arms around his neck, and pull him close to her, and promise him the world.  But the baby.  The baby was more important than anything they felt.  She felt his hands loosen on hers and dismay filled her heart.

            “I’ll be honest,” he said, glancing down. “It scares the fucking shit out of me Lucy.  All of it does.  I know people say everyone is like that.  Mike says it.  Anthony says it.  But it’s like, how the hell would I know how to be a good dad Luce?  I barely even remember my own dad, that’s how much he thought of me, and as for…” he paused, running his tongue over his bottom lip, his eyes seemingly fixated on her middle.  Lucy did not want him to speak the name either.  The name that seemed to hang like a dark shadow over everything in their lives. 

            “You wouldn’t be like that,” she said, pulling one hand out from his and holding it gently to the side of his face.  She saw his eyes weaken, closing briefly, before jerking open to stare right into hers. She shook her head at him adamantly. “You would never be like him Danny.  You mustn’t think that.”

            “But people say that, don’t they? Like, people who are violent to their kids, it’s because their parents were violent to them?  It carries on, doesn’t it?”

            “It’s different Danny.  It’s not always true, for one thing. There are plenty of people out there who have suffered horrendous childhoods, and then managed to give their own kids perfect ones.  And also, that man wasn’t your parent, he didn’t bring you up.  He only had influence over you for a few years.  Before he came along you were kind and good and sweet, and you still are.  You still are.”

            “I just worry though, I just worry.  What if I can’t cope? What if I don’t like bond with it or whatever?  What if I resent it somehow?  Like he resented me?  What if I…what if I….” He trailed off again, lowering his head.  Lucy couldn’t help herself, she placed her other hand on his shoulder and pulled him close.  His forehead bumped against her collar bone, making her laugh and wince.

            “Just shut up you idiot,” she told him. “Do you think I would want to be with you, if I had any doubts about you like that? You’re gonna’ be the best bloody dad in the world, that’s what I know Danny, even if you don’t! I know it, and everyone else knows it, and you just have to give yourself a chance.”

            “Okay,” he was breathing into her neck.  “Okay then.”

            “You can come to the scan with me if you like.”

            “What?  When?”

            “Next week.  If you want to.  And look,” she grinned, blinking away the tears in her eyes, and pulled up her top to show him her rounded belly.  “Look how fast I’m growing!  I’m getting all fat!” She giggled as his eyes grew wider.

            “Bloodyhell Luce.”

            “I know, I know.  Weird isn’t it?”

            His hand snaked out towards her stomach, hovering above it unsurely, before resting featherlike upon it.  “Mental,” he said quietly. “An actual little person.”

            “Blows your mind really.”

            “How big is it?”

            “About the size of a potato.  It has all its legs and arms and everything.  It’s just a tiny little mini person.”

            “You’ll be an amazing mum,” he sighed. She had her hand on his shoulder, and moved it down to his lower back, rubbing back and forth.

            “Maybe we’ll all be amazing together.”

            He lifted his head, pressed his forehead onto hers, took in lungfuls of air and closed his eyes.  “I hope so Lucy.” He opened his eyes and looked right into hers, and she felt the warmth spreading down between her legs, the longing tingling down her arms, making her shudder.  “I’ll do my best, eh?”

            Lucy didn’t want to talk to him anymore.  What he had said was good enough for her.  It was good enough for now.  She closed her eyes, pressed her lips softly against his, and let him push her gently back down onto sofa, as a thousand sweet memories roared through her mind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

45

Anthony

 

 

            Anthony was sat in the lounge, flicking through the TV channels, checking the time on his watch, and sporadically picking up his mobile phone to check it for messages.  The kids were in bed, presumably asleep.  He was waiting for his wife to come home from her ironing jobs.  He was waiting for her to take over, and he was waiting to tell her another lie.  He realised he had been doing that a lot lately, and it saddened him beyond belief, that it had all come to this.  It felt like he had two choices.  Tell her the truth, and lose her, risk losing the kids.  Or lie.  He consoled himself with the knowledge that he had not lied constantly.  He hadn’t needed to for a while.  His brother and Danny had done a good job of keeping him in the dark since the attack in the pub that day.  He had realised that they were, of course.  He wasn’t stupid.  He had known something was still going on, and that they were deliberately keeping him out of it.

Anthony drummed his fingers impatiently against the armrest, jerking his other arm up to look at the time again.  Half past seven.  She had said she would be no later than seven.  He had swapped with her at half four, coming in from the restaurant, brushing a kiss across her cheek in the hallway, before she nipped straight out of the door, yelling that dinner was in the oven.  He had fed the kids, let them watch TV while he cleared up, bathed them, read to them and tucked them into bed.  He blew his breath out loudly with frustration.  He was not looking forward to lying to her, especially because he had it all worked out, and somehow that made it feel worse, but he was looking forward to getting out of the house.  He was looking forward to getting stuck in.  Standing still was not in his nature. 

His phone beeped at him then.  A message.  He snatched it up from where it lay beside him on the sofa and looked at the screen.  Jaime. Anthony grimaced, and scratched the back of his head.  They had not been in contact for a few years now, but Anthony still considered him a friend, of sorts.  Not the sort of person he could ever bring home to meet the wife and kids, of course.  Imagine that! Chrissy could still barely disguise her distaste whenever she heard Danny’s name mentioned.  What would she think if he knew he was back in touch with another blast from the past?

Saving you a seat mate!

Anthony grinned and quickly typed back; still waiting for wife! Be there soon as. He heard the door then, her key turning in the lock, and he stuffed the phone into his pocket in a panic that made him feel stupid and childish.  He got to his feet as she walked in, immediately narrowing her eyes his way.  “Kids okay?”

“Yep,” he nodded. “I’ve got to go out!”

“But I’ve just got in!”

“Emergency,” he shrugged, heading for the hallway to grab his coat.  Chrissy let her own coat slip from her shoulders, hanging it up on the hook just as Anthony reached for his.  He glanced at her apologetically. “Workmate,” he explained, “in a right old state.  His missis has left him.”

“Hmm,” Chrissy had folded her arms in a disapproving fashion. But Anthony did not allow her any time to question or admonish him for leaving.  He kissed her cheek and left.  He imagined her seething in the hallway, as he headed down the street, shoving his hands into his pocket, exhaling breath into the cold air.  He had an appointment to keep.

            It felt like going back in time, Anthony realised vaguely, when he reached the old haunt and paid his money on the door.  He stood outside for just a moment, staring around at the street they had waited on so many times that year in the bed-sit.  Leaping about, impatiently queing up to get in.  He felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, recalling how excitable Danny had always been, more than the rest of them, who would have been happy about a night out anywhere.  This place had been special to Danny, he knew.  He’d been overwhelmed at first, unable to really believe there was a club that played all the music he loved, and introduced him to even more.  Anthony remembered seeing it in his eyes, the burning desire for more.  He would leap up and down all night, his hair flying about, his eyes wild with excitement.

            Sighing and shaking his head, absorbing the time that had passed for all of them, Anthony ducked through the doors of Chaos, and took a look around for Jaime Lawler.  The dance floor was empty.  The club had not long opened.  A few groups were scattered here and there, some at the bar, some lounging around the poole table.  Anthony tried to place the name of the song that was playing, and the band. He tapped one foot without thinking, nodding along whatever happened to my rock and roll? But he failed, without even really trying.  He had not had time for music in the last eight years.

            It didn’t take him long to pick Jaime Lawler out, perched on a stool at the bar, though it had been a good two or three years since he had last seen him.  He was tall and thin, hunched over his pint, still dressed the same.  Tracksuit jacket, jeans and a baseball cap crammed down over his forehead. His slate grey eyes peered out suspiciously from under it, taking Anthony in and lifting a lazy hand in a half-hearted wave. “Alright then mate?” he called out. Anthony took up the stool next to him and they shook hands.  He felt Jaime’s grip tighten, and his eyes seemed to pierce through him suddenly, just before he let go and dropped his hand back to cradle his pint.

            “How you doing Jaime?” Anthony asked, nodding to catch the barmaids attention.  “Pint of Carlsberg please love,” he told her.  The girl had short bleached blonde hair and a pierced nose.  She smiled warmly at him, but Anthony was used to that.  If anything, the wedding band on his finger seemed to make the girls even friendlier. 

            “Not so bad, not so bad mate,” Jaime’s response was a tired one.  Anthony paid for his pint and looked him over.  Jaime was a few years older than him.  Anthony had been in the same school year as his younger brother Bradley.  Bradley had gone down the wife and kids route at a young age and stuck with it.  Jaime had gone down the crime and punishment route at an equally young age, the question was, was he still at it?  “Getting old, eh?” Jaime sat with his legs apart, one hand dangling, the other lifting the pint glass to his lips.  He grinned and cocked his head. Anthony nodded and smiled.

            “Looks that way,” he agreed sombrely. “Happens to us all.  Never really believed it would though, did we?”

            Jaime’s eyes moved down to the bar, he leant on it with one elbow and Anthony watched the way his eyes moved about quickly, taking everything in, tracking across the bar, to Anthony’s hand, to his clothes, down to his shoes and back again.  There was still something distinctly shifty about the man, he mused, drinking his beer.  “How’re the wife and kids?” he asked.  Anthony nodded again.

            “Good thanks, really good.  How about you?  Last time I bumped into you, you were still free and single.”

            “Ah that’s the only way I know,” Jaime met his eyes briefly, grinning widely, and Anthony noticed that he had two teeth missing now.  One on the top right, and one just below it.  His other teeth looked grey and in bad shape.  It made him look older, Anthony thought.  “There’s no woman out there would put up with me, and bloody kids, eh?  Not for me thanks.  My bloody nephews and nieces do my head in when I see ‘em.  How’s your brother?”

            “He’s not too bad,” said Anthony. “He’s trying to get back with his ex, the mother of his little boy?  I hope he does.  It would be good for him.”

            “Yeah, yeah, no doubt,” Jaime swivelled on his stool, still grinning, but looking around everywhere, jerking his eyes up every time someone came in, or moved.  He touched the rim of his baseball cap every now and again in an almost subconscious gesture.  “He’s staying out of trouble these days then?”

            “Yeah, pretty much,” Anthony sighed. “But trouble has a way of finding him.  Well, not so much him specifically, but Danny. He’s been staying with Mike.”

            Jaime’s eyes had a life of their own, Anthony thought, almost transfixed now by how quickly they moved around.  They met his, then jerked away, took in two young girls who skipped in arm and arm, back to the bar, down to his nearly finished pint, then down to his trainers. He sort of lifted and dropped his skinny shoulders in a series of uncomfortable shrugs. “Yeah, yeah, so how he is then? That what this is all about?  This little blast from the past eh?” He laughed, but it was more of a cackle, and again Anthony was reminded of someone much older than Jaime was, and suddenly he could see him as a wrinkled old man, hunched and thin, with tobacco stained fingers and a gappy smile. 

            “Yeah, basically,” Anthony said, deciding it was time to cut the small talk and get down to business. “I asked for your help once before, you remember?”

            Jaime nodded, his grey eyes thinning to wary slits. “I remember.”

            “Because of Mike and Danny, because I cared about them.” Anthony drank some beer, and tried to catch Jaime’s eyes and hold them still.  “Here I am, at it again, all these years later.  You didn’t mind me contacting you?  I mean, you were the only person I could think of that still lives round there, that might know anything.”

            “Oh I know things, I know things alright,” Jaime had put his empty glass down on the bar.  He searched inside his jacket and brought out a packet of tobacco, which he set up on the bar to roll a cigarette.  Anthony swallowed nervously.  He watched him, waiting, wanting to urge him on, but not wanting to interrupt him.  His messages to Jaime had gone unanswered at first, and he had wondered if he had the wrong number for him.  A search via Friends Reunited had linked him back up with Bradley, the family man, who had confirmed that the mobile number Anthony had for Jaime was correct.  He had phoned him not long after. 

            “Anything useful?” Anthony urged him after what felt like an age.  Jaime rolled his cigarette into a neat white tube and tucked a roach into one end.  He did all of this without looking at Anthony once. Anthony picked up his pint and drank three mouthfuls, put it down, and scratched his head impatiently.  Jaime put away his tobacco pouch, dragged a lighter from his other inside pocket and lit his roll-up.  Anthony found himself wondering if the man was doing it on purpose, because he had something really juicy, and was dragging the moment out in anticipation for it, or was he just extremely reluctant about sharing what he knew?

            Jaime dragged heavily on his roll-up, his thin lips pursing tightly around the end, the skin around them wrinkling heavily.  He exhaled deeply, let his eyes drift back to meet Anthony, and Anthony had a flashback then, back to that horrible ghastly moment in the pub he had worked in.  When he had sat just like this, face to face, hunched forward to catch Jaime’s hushed tones, to hear what a dirty bastard Jack Freeman really was.  He remembered how his stomach had rolled over, how he had wanted to puke, and run from the pub to find Michael and Danny, to drag them home and keep them safe.  “You know Freeman is dead?” Jaime said finally.  Anthony nodded quickly.  “You know he topped himself in his own bleeding pub?”

            “Yes.”

            “He didn’t actually own that pub, he just managed it.”

            “Hey?” Anthony frowned, felt the urge to shake his head and blink, not understanding.  Jaime reached for the bar, dragged an ashtray forwards and tapped his roll-up against the edge.  “I had my suspicions few years ago to be honest,” Jaime went on. “But what did it matter to me?  Never saw you and Mike round that way for obvious reasons.  Danny boy locked up inside.” Jaime shrugged at him, elbow on bar and cigarette dangling over the edge between his long fingers. “But I found out since you called me, started sniffing around a bit more.  Jerry Howard bought both places, K and The White Horse.”

            “Let me get this straight,” Anthony leaned towards him. “When Lee Howard died, he left half of the club to Freeman, and half to Danny’s mum, or so she says.  So what, did Freeman and Danny’s mum both sell their halves to Jerry?

            Jaime shrugged and nodded at the same time. “Look all I know is, Freeman had his fingers in both pies, but you only ever saw him at the White Horse, lording it up.  A guy called Nick Groves manages K’s, or Howler it’s called now, and has done since Howard died.”

            “So Jerry owns both?” Anthony asked, still not understanding. “What, Lee left his club to his wife and his dad? Why did she and Freeman think he owned half of it?  Oh Christ, this is confusing.”

            “Because Jerry wanted to stay in the background, that’s why, can’t you work it out?” Jaime rolled his eyes under the brim of his cap and tapped his roll up at the ashtray again.  “Come on, you ain’t silly Anthony mate.  Danny’s mum wouldn’t have cared who she sold to, she just wanted shot, and wanted the money.  Done.  Freeman wanted Danny to think he had half and sold it to buy the Horse, because that hides who really owns it all, doesn’t it?  Jerry.  Jerry Howard owns both places, and he had Freeman managing one, and Groves in the other, and let me tell you something else mate, if you think all the dodgy shit and drug dealing died with Howard, you’d be fucking wrong too.”

            Anthony sat back, overwhelmed.  He blinked a few times, looked at his pint dumbly and felt the urge to order a shot of something stronger.  “Bloodyhell.”

            “Yeah, so when old pervy Jack started whinging and whining saying he had fuck all to do with screwing Danny over, he was lying mate.  He was in on it from the start because he fucking had to be.  Because just like Lee owned his bollocks back then, Jerry owned them now.  Well till he topped himself anyway.  Wise fucking move that was.”

            “Who is this Groves fellow?”

            “Oh you’ve met him mate,” Jaime tipped his head back, almost gloating out at Anthony from under his cap.  “You met him in Old Inne, didn’t you?  Big shaven haired bastard.”

            “That guy?” Anthony was appalled.  “Fuck! He said he was a mate of Lee’s.  He attacked Danny again, you know, after Freeman killed himself.”

            “Yeah, and how much do you want to bet it’s been him and Freeman, and fuck knows who else, running around smashing all you people’s windows in, sending hate mail and all that shit?  Watching you all mate, that’s what.” Jaime looked grim for a moment, his eyes shooting around the place again, as he leaned towards Anthony and lowered his voice.  “They been watching you all for years, I reckon.  Waiting for Danny boy to get released.  They knew he’d head back to you lot.  They been keeping tabs on where you all live and work, so they could fire all this shit at you as soon as you took him in.”

            “But why?” Anthony lifted his hands in exasperation and dropped them dismally down into his lap.  “Why for fuck’s sake?  Danny did what he did, he paid for it, it was eight fucking years ago!  I don’t get why they would carry it all on.”

            “It’s obvious,” Jaime shrugged at him, a sneer on his thin lips.  “Lee was Jerry’s precious son.  The other one was a retard right?  The mother died after the funeral.  Jerry was left with no one thanks to Danny.  He wanted him to pay.”

            “But he did pay! He went to jail for eight years!”

            “But he’s still alive,” Jaime reminded him with another thin shrug.  “He’s out, he’s alive, he’s got friends and family who care about him, right? And he’s got money in the bank.  Lee Howard’s money.”

            “That’s what he wants,” Anthony nodded, lips tight, teeth clenched. “He told Freeman and Freeman told Kay.  He wants all the money back, he wants Danny to apologise, and he wants him to leave here and go away.”

            “You reckon he’s gonna’ do any of that?”

            “I don’t know,” Anthony sighed, shaking his head.  “But I know he’s arranged to see him next week.  He phoned him and put it into place.”

            “Well he’s fucking crazy if he goes anywhere near that man,” Jaime shook his head, sucked hard on his roll-up and crushed the butt into the ashtray.  “I’ve heard stories about him mate.  Stuff that would make your toes curl.  You think Lee was evil and twisted?  How the fuck do you think he got that way?”

            “I don’t even want to think about it,” Anthony breathed, rubbing the heel of one hand into his eye.  He dropped his hand then and looked blankly at Jaime. “How do you know all this?  Didn’t they know you gave Danny the coke he took before he killed Howard?”

            “Nah, that never came out,” Jaime touched his cap, crossed his ankles together and leaned back again on his stool, resting his back on the bar behind.  “I kind of got myself roped back into things again, you know.  That way.”

            “You mean dealing?” Anthony lowered his voice to a whisper.  He didn’t know why it surprised him, because it was obvious that people like Jaime Lawler were too far gone to ever change.  But it did, for some reason.  Jaime gave a brief, guarded nod.  “Back that way?” Anthony questioned. “For them?” Another quick nod.  Anthony breathed in and out slowly, and stared around at the club, which was slowly starting to fill up.  A line of customers clustered along the bar, trying to get the single barmaids attention.  The music had gone up a level.  This time he knew the name of the band, Primal Scream, one of his favourites from back then, and a group of highly excitable teenage girls were already bopping about in the middle of the dance floor, screaming out the lyrics as if their lives depended on them; I’m movin’ on up now! Yeah, out of the darkness! My light shines on, my light shines on…

            “It’s all I fucking know, right?” Jaime snapped beside him then. “I got no fucking qualifications or experience.  I got dragged back into it, so what?  Probably worth your while I did, eh?  Kept my nose to the ground for you.”

            “You’re doing a brave thing right now then,” Anthony met his eyes squarely and told him.  He watched the thin man quiver slightly, and his lips worked nervously over his broken teeth.  “Meeting me here.”

            “Well you’re a mate,” the reply came quickly, defensively, but Anthony could see the fear and the doubt working itself up in his eyes.  “Danny was a mate.  And I always felt bad, you know.”

            “About what?”

            “About fucking everything,” the man groaned, rubbing at his eyes with his hand.  “About Freeman putting me onto him when he was just a kid.  Getting him into all sorts of shit.  Knowing what a sadistic bastard his step-dad was.  I was never brave enough to say or do anything, was I?  Just kept my nose out of it, I did, just minded my own fucking business I did.  Turns my stomach now, you know.  And that night…” he paused, shaking his head from side to side, whistling out a slow stream of breath, his grey eyes zooming around the club.  “That fucking night….he called me.   I should have said no, because he made it pretty obvious what he was gonna’ do.”

            “Did he?”

            “Oh yeah.  He took the stuff and said not to tell anyone, and the last thing he said was he was gonna’ fight back, and when I asked how, he said ‘you’ll see’.  He didn’t wanna be in that position anymore, you know, did he?  That evil bastard tracking him down all the time.  I didn’t blame him.” Jaime shrugged, his face shut down now, his eyes small and tired.  “I thought, fuck it, let him fight back if he wants, who was I to stop him?  I left him to it.  Then the next day…”

            “I know,” Anthony stood up then.  He didn’t think he could bear to be in Jaime’s company a moment longer, it was all so depressing.  “But you can’t blame yourself Jaime.  In some ways we all played a part.  The thing is now to sort all this out, so Danny can live a normal life.”

            “You’re gonna’ go with him?”

            “Yeah, me and Mike.”

            “There’s something else you should know.”

            “What?”

            “That reporter bird?” Jaime raised his eyebrows expectantly as Anthony nodded in confusion.  “She’s in on it too.”

            “What?”

            “Yeah.  Jerry’s been using her too. Or she’s been using him, whatever. He let her know how to find you all, how to find Danny to get her story.  She’s part of it Anthony.  I’m not really sure how or why, but she is.  She’s on the payroll.”

            Anthony stood next to the bar in dumb amazement, the information rolling over him in waves of bewilderment.  He covered his mouth with one hand for a moment, trying to take it all in.  “Okay,” he said finally, meeting Jaime’s eye. “Thank you Jaime.  You be careful, yeah?”

            “Always careful,” was the unsure reply.  Anthony nodded and patted him on the shoulder.

            “I better go.”

            “Call me if you need me.”

            “Thanks.  Thanks Jaime.” Anthony hurried out of the club, his mind swimming.  He got out into the sunshine, brushed back his hair and stared up at the buildings around him.  Their own old bed-sit was just around the corner.  Anthony ran his tongue over his dry lips, as he felt shivers spiralling down his spine.  Looking over their shoulders, that was how they had lived there for a year, wasn’t it?  Trying to get on with things, attempting something close to a normal life, but in reality they had all lived with one eye trained over their shoulders.  He had felt like their guardian, in more ways than one.  Shepherding them in and out of the building, watching out for trouble, staring into the shadows. He pulled out his phone and stared at it for a moment, thinking who should he call first, Danny or Michael?

43

Danny

 

 

                        “Why’d you need to see her anyway?” Michael asked, when he dropped Danny over at Kay’s block of flats.  Danny climbed out of the car with Kurt under one arm, and an overnight bag in his other hand.  He had packed some spare clothes, his cigarettes, and Caroline Haskell’s article. He peered back in and offered Michael a lazy grin he hoped would reassure him.  But Michael was on edge, close to freaking out, his hands gripping and ungripping the steering wheel the whole time during the drive over.

            “Last time I saw her I was pretty vicious to her,” he explained. “We didn’t get a proper chance to talk about Freeman.  Now seems a good as time as any.”

            “And Lucy?”

            “Yeah, she text back. She’s getting me in the morning.”

            Danny watched a little relief creep back into his friends eyes. “You’re gonna’ talk to her?” he asked. “About the baby and everything?”

            “Yep,” Danny nodded at him. “Course I am. See you later Mike.”

            He closed the door and headed on up to his mothers flat.  She answered the door with a glass of wine in her hand, and rolled her eyes when he raised his eyebrows at her.  “Don’t say a word young man,” she warned him, holding the door open for him. “You are hardly one to talk about alcohol consumption.”

            “I wasn’t gonna’ say a thing.”

            Kay closed the door and frowned disapprovingly down at Kurt, as ever, running in little circles around Danny’s feet, pawing and wriggling, until Danny gave in and stooped down to pick him up.  “You treat him like a baby you know,” Kay remarked, wine glass at mouth. Danny just sighed and carried Kurt through to the living room.  He dumped his bag on the floor and collapsed onto the sofa with Kurt on his lap.  He watched his mother swaying into the room.  She was wearing her trademark tight blue jeans, vest top and long cardigan combination.  She was so thin, she had the body of a child, he thought looking at her then.  Had she been that thin eight years ago?  He didn’t think so. She looked at him, still frowning, one arm across her middle, the other hand clasping the wine glass, and he looked back at her, and he thought who the hell are we?  What the hell are we doing?

            “Do you want a drink?” she asked him, waving her glass.  He could see that she was drunk, but it didn’t bother him.  Like she had already pointed out, who was he to criticise?  “I mean, tea, coffee? Something stronger?”

            “Have you got any beer?”

            “No.”

            “Okay I’ll have a glass of what you’re having then.” He looked at her and smiled hopefully.  Her frown intensified.

            “Why are you being so nice?” she questioned. “What’s all this about? Last time I saw you you were vile to me, which is fair enough.  Then I hear you’ve been vile to Lucy too.  The woman carrying your child! Oh yes, I know all about it young man! You should be ashamed of yourself!”

            Danny grimaced.  He should have known she would start in on all of that, when drunk.  She wouldn’t hold back for anyone when she’d had one too many.  He guessed they had that in common at least. “It’s alright,” he told her, because he did not want to have that conversation with her yet. “I’ve sorted it, so you can stop freaking out. She’s picking me up from here in the morning, okay?  We’re gonna’ talk.”

            “Well I should think so too!” she retorted, still not making any move to get him a drink. “You don’t have any idea how scary, how isolating it is being on your own and pregnant!  I’ve been there remember! It’s horrible Danny. You shouldn’t be doing that to her.  She’s a lovely, normal, sweet girl, and it takes two to tango young man, it’s not just her fault there’s a baby on the way!”

            “Yeah, I know all that mother, I know, that’s why I’m seeing her tomorrow like I just said.”

            “A baby!” she gasped then, as if she had only just realised for the first time that a pregnant girl meant an actual baby at some point.  She placed a hand on her chest, just below her neck, and closed her eyes briefly, a little smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.  “A grandchild Danny!  Do you know I will be a grandmother! Do you know how excited I actually am?”

            “Are you?”

            She shook her head in dismay at him, crossed the room quickly and leant towards him on the sofa.  Tilting her head to one side, she reached out and cupped his chin with one hand. “Oh you silly boy!” she scolded him playfully. “Of course I am! Obviously I am worried about you both, well you mostly, because Lucy is so terribly sensible and lovely…but you, you’ll be okay won’t you?  Won’t you?  Oh Danny,” she went down to her knees then, to his surprise, right in front of him, with one hand still holding his chin, and the other holding the wine glass precariously close to his knees. “I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it, it’s so lovely, you a daddy! Oh Danny, I know you’re scared, and I understand, I was fucking terrified expecting you and John!”  He said nothing, curiously watching her carefully lower her glass to the floor and place it on the carpet.  She clamped her other hand down on his knee and looked right into his eyes.  She was hammered.  “But you’re gonna’ be fine, you are, you really are, you have to believe that!  You’ll be wonderful, you’ll be amazing, you’ll be just fine darling.  And imagine! Imagine! How beautiful is this baby going to be?”  She was smiling now, this huge dopey drunk smile all over her face, and he couldn’t help but smile back at it.  Her eyes, exact replicas of his, were glistening with hope and love and drink.  “Imagine how beautiful! Lucy, oh, so pretty, so pretty, and you! Do you know when you were a baby, people would actually stop me in the street to tell me how beautiful you were?  Really they did.  Complete strangers. On a daily basis.  Did I ever tell you that?”

            “I don’t think so.”

            “Oh well that’s because I’m a useless mother and always have been!” she rocked her head back and laughed out loud at herself. “I probably didn’t want to let you get big-headed, but they did! I lost count of the times people would look at you and say miss, he is the cutest little boy I have ever seen.  They did, they really did.  Do you know, people used to tell me to watch you closely?  Because you might get stolen?  Really, really they did.  Like someone would see you and just have to have you and would just steal you away when I wasn’t looking.”

            Danny laughed at her.  “Is that right?”

            “It is, it is. And they were right.  You were like that.  You were that kind of child.  Like something out of heaven.  Like an angel.”

            “Except I didn’t behave like one,” he joked, finally lifting his hand and dropping it awkwardly onto hers.  He felt the shock vibrate through her small body, and the surprise and the hope and the hurt showed on her face, intensifying her frown, as she clenched harder at his knee.

            “You were just full of life, that’s all,” she told him, her smile fading. “I see that now.  That’s how it should be anyway.  Little kids.  They should be like that, full of life and hope.”

            “Mum how drunk are you?  How much have you had?”

            Kay smiled wryly, looking away as she pulled back, and then used his knee to push herself back to her feet.  “It’s the weekend,” she shrugged, heading to the kitchen. “I’m allowed. I’ll get you that drink.”

            Danny waited for her to come back.  He grimaced at the sound of her clattering around the small kitchen, and took a deep breath before she returned.  He felt touched by her enthusiastic descriptions of him as a child, and her doe eyed look when talking about Lucy and the baby.  The baby. It still made him shiver when he thought it, when he tried to picture it.  He knew he could not even begin to try to explain to his mother how he felt about it all.  He did not even know himself.  One moment it filled him with nothing short of horror, for so many reasons.  It took his breath away, made him feel sick, made him feel like running.  And then every now and again it would feel okay.  It would feel like something he could actually deal with on some level.  One step at a time, maybe. Slowly and surely.  But it was Lucy, it was thinking of Lucy, and waking up in the night craving her arms around him like a physical sickness, it was that which shook him the most.  He was looking forward to seeing her tomorrow.  More than he had thought possible.  It made him grin every time he thought of it.  He knew she had every right to slap him across the face, and he didn’t even care if she did.  He just wanted to see her.  He just wanted to talk it out.  See where it went.

            Kay returned with a glass of wine for him, and her own glass refilled.  She sashayed across the room and dropped onto the sofa beside him, emitting a huge dramatic sigh, and placing a hand on top of Kurts head for a stroke. “He is kind of cute really,” she mused, scratching his ears.  “You always went on about having a dog when you were a kid. I always said no.  Didn’t Lucy buy him for you?”

            “For my sixteenth,” Danny nodded. “Best present I ever had.”

            “She’s a good girl,” Kay was nodding too. “We’ve had our words, you know, and God knows I deserved them, but I’ve got a lot of respect for that girl, Danny.  She’s strong and she’s true.  I like her a lot.”

            “Mum,” Danny shifted slightly so that he could look at her.  She frowned, already knowing that the conversation was about to take a darker turn.  He paused for a moment, wondering if this was the right time, wondering if maybe they should just have a drink together, talk about Lucy and the baby, about hope.  But as he paused, she moved forward suddenly, grabbing his face again, harder this time, turning it to the side and gasping.

            “What’ve you done there?  What’s that?”

            Danny sighed.  No going back now.  “I got attacked again,” he told her softly, pulling away from her hand.  “Earlier today.  Outside the flat.”

            “What?” she gasped, her hand covering her mouth. “By who?  Why?”

            “You know why,” he shrugged. “It was one of the guys from the pub that time.  Big bald guy.  He said he was a friend of Lee’s, and Jack’s.  He said Jack was dead, mum.”

            Kay looked away from him abruptly.  He watched her mouth drop shut, her jaw tighten, her eyes widen.  Then she put one hand over her mouth, dropped her head forward, and squeezed her eyes shut.  Danny sat forward, put his glass down, and reached for her knee.  “Mum?”  She was shaking her head now, as she opened her eyes and stared at him, her bottom lip trembling.

            “The laptop,” she gasped, raising a shaking hand and gesturing toward the kitchen.  “The computer.  I sent these emails you see!”

            “What?  That he’s dead?  What’d you mean?”

            She got up, strode urgently towards the kitchen, and returned carrying her laptop, which was open.  She sat beside him and pushed it roughly onto his knees, nodding at the screen.  “It’s been going all day,” she was mumbling, “I kept checking when I was at work.  The University, the message board I wrote on and everything. Look!”

            Danny had no idea what she was talking about.  He stared at the laptop screen which was logged onto the Bournemouth University website.  She leaned over and scrolled down the screen for him, and then he could see what she meant.  The page was full of comments, all from students at the University.  The subject was about Jack Freeman, landlord at the White Horse and whether or not he was dead.  Danny narrowed his eyes and moved his face closer to the screen.  The last comment was from someone called Phil Robson and it read ; there’s no proof he was a peado, so why don’t you let the poor guy RIP, before you start believing any shit on the internet, you stupid cunts.  Danny looked at the comment below.  A girl called Emily Sutch had written; he was in the paper yrs ago actually, my Nan told me, she lives round here. He was accused of molesting young boys and supplying them with drugs. You can find the info online if you don’t believe me. The comment below hers, Nancy Mills ; always thought he was creepy! Def an alkie too, he reeked, sorry but he did. The one below that was from Phil Robson again; hate the way people believe everything they read! One minute sum nutter comes on here saying he’s a paedo, the next thing the guy is dead! Wait til there is any proof before you start slagging him off!  Danny felt his heart beating faster and harder as he scrolled further down, running his eyes rapidly over the hundreds of comments students had written on the page. Tom Atkinson; he had a sign round his neck saying ‘pervert’ apparently!

            Danny had read enough.  He closed the laptop and looked at his mother.  She was sitting with her hands pressed against her eyes.  “What happened mum?  What did you do?”

            Kay let her hands drift unsurely down to her lap.  She seemed to try to compose herself, clasping her hands together between her knees, shaking back her hair and blinking away the tears he saw shining in her eyes.  “You know I went to see him last week?” she said, and then sucked in a huge breath.  “Last Friday.”

            “Yes, I know.  He told you what Jerry Howard wants.”

            “I had a bit if a pop at him while I was there,” she went on, “I had a go at him.”

            “That’s no worse than what I did the week before,” Danny pointed out, sliding the laptop down to the floor and picking his wine back up.

            “I know, I know, but I did something else before I went to see him,” Kay explained, finding her own glass and snatching it back up.  “And then before I left I told him, I told him what I’d done to him.”

            “And what had you done?” Danny questioned, although he now had a pretty good idea.  Kay shrugged, shook her hair back again and looked away at him defiantly. 

            “Went on their University page and told them all what he was. I even phoned up the guy at their Student union, to warn them not to go in his pub. Told them the truth.”

            Danny found himself sinking slowly back into the sofa, drinking his wine and leaning his head on his hand.  “Oh mother,” he murmured.  “Why did you do it?”

            “Why not?” she shrugged again.  “He got away scot free, like you said.  Out of everything, he got a pub, he got a life, he never got punished!  I wanted to put that right, for you! I wanted to ruin his life, like he helped ruin yours!”

            “It’s fine,” Danny said, shrugging his shoulders and wondering what else he could possibly say about it.  “Just don’t say you did it for me, alright?  I didn’t need you to.”

            “Well I needed to!  I needed to do something!” Kay argued back, her voice shrill.  “I didn’t do much to protect you back then, I wanted to do something now!  I wanted to make him pay!”

            “Well you did that, didn’t you?” Danny yawned, as she trembled and raged beside him.  He watched her smoothing her hair down, shoving it viciously back behind her ears.  Her cheeks had risen in colour, and he guessed it would not be too long before she passed out.  “The man is dead.”

            “Well that was up to him, wasn’t it?” Kay snapped, crossing one arm protectively across her middle.  “I didn’t do it, I didn’t make him!  They’re saying he hung himself with his own belt, upstairs at the pub.  With a sign around his neck saying pervert.  Well at least he died telling the truth for once.  I might even respect him a bit for that.”

            Danny laughed then.  He could not help himself.  He looked at her and laughed, and she stared back at him in horror.  “What else am I supposed to?”

            “You find all this funny?”

            “Not really.  No funnier than I find anything these days.  It’s just the way you said it, that’s all.  Maybe I’m trying to relieve the tension or something.”

            “Well he’s dead anyway,” Kay waved a hand at him and drank another mouthful of wine.  “It’s not my fault.  I did what I had to do, and if he wanted to die, that’s his fault, not mine.  The world is a better place without him, eh?”  She looked at Danny then, and he could see it in her eyes, that she had done it for him, that it meant more to her than he would ever know.  She wanted him to say it was okay, she wanted him to know what she had tried to do.  So he nodded, and then reached out and patted her leg twice.

            “We got rid of one each,” he joked, knowing full well it was in bad taste but unable to help himself.  “We’ve got something in common now, haven’t we?”

            “Oh Danny, don’t say that,” she sighed and fell back beside him, wiping one hand slowly back through her hair.  “This is all such a mess.  Such a mess.”

            “Listen,” he said. “You did what you had to do.  He deserved it, you’re right.  Who’s to know he wasn’t still at it anyway?  You know?  You reckon he never messed around with anyone again after me?  ‘Cause I fucking don’t.  People like that don’t change mum.  Not ever.  I bet there are loads of messed up kids out there that had suffered at his hands, one way or another.”

            “Like from the drugs he pushed,” Kay said, turning her face to look at him. “He could have still been doing that, couldn’t he?”

            Danny nodded. “Yeah, that’s right.”  He felt her lean against him, her wine held loosely between her legs.  He knew what they were doing, trying to justify it, trying to reassure themselves that he deserved it.  “Don’t worry about it mum,” he told her.  “He made his choice.  You didn’t do it.  You didn’t kill him, he killed himself.  And those Uni kids had a right to know.”

            He felt her sigh heavily beside him.  She lifted her glass again.  “I’m just glad you’re not angry with me,” she said.

            “Nah.  It would have all got out in a while anyway, because the article is written.  I’ve got it with me, look.”  Remembering it for the first time since he had arrived, Danny eased himself forward to dig around in his overnight bag.  He brought out the plastic folder and passed it to Kay.  “She gave it to me today.  She’s got some bidding war apparently, with all the papers?  Think of that hey?”

            Kay looked at the folder on her lap.  “Oh gosh.”

            “So there you go.  His name is in there.  I didn’t hold back. It’s all in there.”

            “Have you read it?”

            “Yeah.”

            “And?”

            “It’s good.  I mean, she’s a good writer.  She did a good job.” Danny looked at the folder, as his mum flipped open the cover and ran a finger over the title page.  Kids That Kill.  She had told him she was planning on a whole series of stories now that she had covered his.  She wanted to go up and down the country, around the world even, talking to people who had killed as kids.  She wanted to know why, she had said, why they had done it, who they had killed and why. 

            “I don’t know if I can read it Danny.”          

            “You don’t have to,” he shrugged, rummaging then in his pocket for his cigarettes. 

            “But I should shouldn’t I?”  She closed the folder and held it tightly to her chest.  “Like you said, it’s all in there.”

            “Yeah, but you don’t have to.”

            “I will,” she glanced down at it and nodded.  “I think I owe it to you.  And I think you were incredibly brave doing it.  Do you know you are the bravest person I have ever known?”

            Danny made a noise in his throat, dismissing her claims.  She shook her head at him adamantly.  You won’t think that when you’ve read it, he thought to himself, looking at her shining eyes, you won’t think that when you read what a coward I was, not telling anyone, hiding it from you, running away.  “I’ll read it tomorrow,” he heard her saying.  She had rolled up the file and placed it to one side of the sofa.  “When I’m in a better state of mind.  Did she pay you, by the way?  Because if it gets published, she’ll stand to make a lot of money from it.”

            “We had a deal,” Danny replied, thinking distastefully of the piece of paper he still had in his pocket.  The address where he would find Jerry Howard, the man who wanted him gone.  The address, and the phone number.  “She helped me find Dennis and Jack.  And now Jerry.”

            “So you’re going to see him next?” questioned Kay, linking her arm through his.  He nodded in reply.  “When?  Not alone?”

            “Not alone, no.  I don’t know when.”

            “And what about the things he wants?  What Jack told me?”

            “I don’t know,” Danny told her, and this was the truth.  He had no idea whether he was going to do the things Jerry wanted.  He had decided not to think about it until he was in the moment.  Take it one step at a time.  What was the point in trying to make decisions until he knew what he was faced with?  “I’ll deal with it when it comes,” he said. 

            “I could come with you.”

            Danny thought about this.  So far he only imagined him and Michael going to see Jerry Howard, and he didn’t even know if this would be realistic.  What if Howard only agreed to seeing him alone?  He would have to go along with it, wouldn’t he?  He patted his mum on the hand, feeling her grow heavier beside him, as if she was slowly slipping away.  “I’ll let you know,” he told her gently. 

            “You let me know…” his mother murmured against him.  “I’ll come with you…I’ll sort it out for you darling, I will….I’ll make it up to you.”

            “Don’t be stupid,” he told her, rolling his eyes.  “Don’t start all that.”

            “Got so much to make up for,” she went on, lifting her glass slowly to her lips and sipping at the last mouthful. “That’s the last thing I think when I fall asleep at night, you know?  And the first thing that hits me in the head every morning. How badly I let you down.  How bloody stupid and blind I was.  How you went through it all alone.”  He felt her hiss then, turned to look at her and saw she was sobbing quietly into her fingers. “I’m useless…useless…don’t know how you can stand to be around me.”

            “Let’s not do this,” Danny told her gently, slipping his arm hesitantly around her shoulders.  “There’s no point mum.  We’ve all got to just move on somehow.”

            “The baby,” she said then, pulling back so that she could look into his face again.  Tears were sliding down her face. “It will bring us all together.  I will make it up to you that way.  I will be the best grandma in the world, if you and Lucy let me!”

            “Stop being so daft,” Danny shook his head at her, wanting the conversation to end.  She lolled back into him, done in by the wine, finished off by the week she had endured.  He felt her yawn widely against his shoulder.  Her own thin shoulders were still shaking softly, jerking in time with her steadying tears.  He found himself sat there, staring at the wall, staring at the floor, waiting for her to fall asleep, hoping she had run out of things to cry about.  He glanced briefly at the folder next to her on the sofa.  He wondered what she would really make of it.  There were things in there he had never told her, things she didn’t know.  But maybe reading it would help her too, he reasoned, like it had helped him.  He viewed the article now with a mixture of cold distain and morbid curiosity.  Had telling it helped him get rid of it?  He closed his eyes and wondered if it was possible that his head felt clearer, and that his heart felt lighter.  He pondered the meeting with Jerry Howard and experienced a strange sense of calmness about it.  He had a feeling that all would become clear, that everything he had ever wondered about, everything that had ever tortured him about Lee Howard would all become known to him.

            Hearing his mother start to snore softly beside him, Danny took a breath and pulled out his phone.  He had added Jerry Howard’s number to his contact list.  He decided it was time to give him a call.

42

Lucy

 

As she lay in the bath, surrounded by a ridiculous amount of lavender scented bubbles, Lucy could not help but smile at how different her weekends had become.  At one time Friday and Saturday nights had always meant wine.  Either at home, or out with friends, or colleagues from work.  Sometimes Carl from upstairs would invite her up to join him.  He had a girlfriend now, she remembered.  A small shy looking girl named Tara.  She guessed that his weekend nights had changed as well.

Where once there would have been a large glass of wine, placed next to her head was half a cup of tea.  It had probably gone cold now, but she hadn’t really been enjoying it anyway.  As she had told Michael earlier, the sickness part was easing off now, but there were still certain foods and drinks she couldn’t enjoy like she used to.  Coffee was a complete no no.  Marmite was another one.  Toast was okay if plain and nearly cold, otherwise it would feel like it was clogging up her throat, making her want to gag. Chocolate didn’t taste the same anymore either.

She reached up with her big toe and pushed the hot tap until it came on.  A boiling flow of water spurted out and she dunked her foot back under the water to avoid being scalded.  She closed her eyes, feeling her entire body relaxing and unwinding muscle by muscle as the hot water swirled slowly around the bath.  Music was playing in the bedroom, turned up so she could hear it in the bath.  She had gone for The Stone Roses, which she knew was probably a mistake, going by how sensitive and emotional she had been since discovering she was pregnant.  Every song would only serve to remind her of Danny, and all the music he had shared with her back when they were kids.  It had been like a religion to him hadn’t it? He had always reminded her of one of those church going fanatics, the type that are always trying to convert you, and get you to feel what they feel, and see what they see.  He had been like that about music.  She could still hear him now.  This is good, this is so good, you have to listen to this, you just have to, your life will not be complete or worth living if you don’t listen to this. And he’d always been right, hadn’t he?  From The Smiths to Bob Dylan, from Nirvana to The Stone Roses, he had converted her easily every time, and he reminded her of an addict, always searching, hunting for more. Coming back from the record shop, beaming brightly, having discovered Cream, Velvet Underground and Captain Beefheart.

They had spent so many hours like that, just listening to music, not talking.  Lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.  She would rest her cheek against his chest and listen to his heart beating there.  She would feel the shivers go down her spine when a certain lyric, timed with just the right guitar riff or drumbeat seemed to fill the room, the emotion of it lifting them up above it all, taking them somewhere else entirely.  Sometimes she would lift her head to look at him, and see this almost serene look on his face, eyes closed, smile huge and dopey, like one of those people in church, praising their lord, believing in it completely.

Her hands wandered slowly towards her stomach and she shivered again now.  It was a combination of the music and the memories, and the thought of the life whirling around inside her.  Sometimes it was all too much.  The thought of the baby both frightened and enthralled her.  It sent jolts of fear through her body, and turned her stomach upside down every time she thought of it, but at the same time, she could not stop her hands going to it.  It was a comforting urge she had.  She would wake up in the morning with her hands cupped around her belly.

There was something nice about that, she thought now, sliding her palms across her stomach, feeling the way it had popped out, creating a neat little pot belly.  She was never alone now, she had realised recently.  Wherever she was, whatever she was doing, there was someone else with her, all the time.  When she went to sleep at night, the baby was there with her, and when she woke up in the morning, the baby was still there, and she was starting to get used to it.  She was starting to feel excited. There were times when worry and guilt ruled her day of course.  She had not told anyone at school yet, and that whole scenario could keep her awake at night if she thought about it enough. She was seventeen weeks or there abouts, according to her doctor, and she was definitely starting to show. What would people at school say? What would they think, and what would they ask her?  Sometimes she felt so tired she wondered how on earth she would cope once it was born.  If it was this exhausting being pregnant, how would it feel to never get any sleep?

There were times when she just sat with her head in her hands and cried.  At first she had admonished herself for this, finding herself weak and silly for sobbing.  Be strong, she had wanted to tell herself, you can do this, you can do anything.  But now she wasn’t so hard on herself.  The sole book she owned on pregnancy informed her that carrying a baby sends your hormones into overdrive.  She allowed herself tears when she needed them. She would look at her book and sob at the pictures of loving couples, the father placing his hands over the woman’s swollen belly.  Sometimes she would feel so lonely it was impossible to bear, and then she would phone her mother.

She felt calm today though.  It was Saturday night. No school until Monday.  She could lie in and laze about to her hearts content.  Her mother wanted to take her shopping tomorrow at some point.  You need to start buying things, she kept telling her, or at least start looking at things.  By things, Lucy presumed her mother meant cots, and prams and nappies and clothes, and the thought of these things always made her want to giggle.  She would suddenly and inexplicably feel far too childish to be having a baby, and the thought of browsing through baby vests and moses cots, just made her want to burst into hysterical laughter.

Then she would inevitably think of Danny, and wonder, if things were different, would he be finding those things funny too?  Would he be placing his hands on her growing belly like the men in her book?  Would he be helping to think of names, and guessing if it is a girl or a boy?  Normally such thoughts would bring the tears to her eyes at once, but today, she felt different.

There had been his text message earlier.  It had been such a surprise, such a nice shock.  It hadn’t sounded angry, had it?  She had read and re read it a dozen times since it had arrived.  We need to talk. That was a good thing, wasn’t it?  It meant the news had finally sunk in for him, one way or another.  It meant he was sober, and thinking clearly again.  It meant he wanted to talk.  She had sent a message back asking what time and where, but he had not yet replied to this.  She had been fighting the urge to prompt him for three hours now.

Her hands laced upon her stomach and she wondered how long it would be until she first felt the baby kick.  She had started to feel something, just a fluttering, a sort of whirling, swooshing movement inside her.  She felt it more when she was like this, totally relaxed in the warm bath water.  It made her smile.  Even if she had just had the shittiest, most exhausting day, that strange floating feeling in her tummy, like little butterflies stretching their wings, it made her smile.  It made her feel better. Hello, she would mouth silently to the baby, giggling in embarrassment, is that you?

Maybe she would let her mother take her shopping tomorrow.  She was going to need new clothes soon enough.  Everything was getting too tight now.  Maybe they could go clothes shopping, and then just take a little peek at the baby section?  Just a tiny little peek.  She smiled and giggled at the thought, imagining her mother would probably get ridiculously excited once face to face with rows of tiny baby pink and baby blue outfits.   I wonder what you are… she started to ponder, when suddenly she heard her phone go off.  She sat up violently in the bath, jerking to a sitting position so quickly that she forced a wave of water out onto the floor.

Lucy told herself not to rush, not to panic, not to be so silly, but she could barely stop herself from leaping out of the bath.  She stepped out, hurriedly wrapped herself in a towel and trudged quickly through to the bedroom where she had left her phone.  She found it on the bed and picked it up.  It was Danny and her hand flew her to her mouth.  I’m stayin at mums 2night- any chance u cud pick me up in morn?  Her breath caught in her throat as she impatiently typed in her reply; of course I can, any time? She held the phone tightly in both hands, holding her breath, willing it to respond. She thought of the baby inside her right now, and she wanted to tell it that maybe everything was going to be okay, just maybe, maybe.  Just as she sat slowly down on the edge of the bed, the phone beeped and vibrated again; any time 2 suit u. I cud come back 2 yours or something. Lots 2 tell u. Mostly I’ve been a twat and I’m sorry.

Lucy laughed out loud as she burst into tears, and held the mobile phone up to her mouth, squeezing her eyes tightly in relief, as hot tears rolled down her cheeks. It was the same words he had said to her the day they had shared their first proper kiss.  How had he remembered, after all this time?  Or was it just a coincidence?  They had stood in Michael and Anthony’s lounge, she remembered.  Girl From Mars by Ash had been playing on the stereo.  He had said those exact words to her, and she had repeated them back to him.  Because they had both been twats, she grinned now, hadn’t they? Her for freaking out when he didn’t show up at the beach one time, and him for pushing her away after that. She found the small curve of her belly with her other hand and kept it there, reassuring the baby.  Don’t be silly, she text back, I’ve been a twat and I’m sorry 2. lol. C u tomoro xx She almost thought twice about the kisses, but then told herself, fuck it, I do love him, so fuck it, let him know.

Moments later the phone beeped again;

XXX