27

Michael

 

            Keeping the plan from Anthony did not sit well with him, not one little bit, but he had promised Danny.  The address was near Southampton, which was why Danny had thought it seemed familiar for some reason.  He had lived in Southampton as a child.  They waited a few days before they went.  Everything had fallen quiet.  There had been no letters, no bricks, no eerie phone calls, nothing.  Everyone was starting to relax slightly, Michael noticed.  Chrissie had moved tentatively back in with Anthony.  They were working on things.  Anthony had promised to tell her the truth from now on, which in some ways made it easier for Michael to keep it from him.

He had to admit, he preferred the idea of him, Danny and Anthony all being together to visit Lee Howard’s estranged brother.  But doing it that way would put Anthony in an impossible position.  He would have to choose between letting them down, and lying to his wife.  Danny was right then, Michael decided, as the two of them set off early on a Friday morning, it was better this way. 

Still, knowing that did not stop Michael’s belly from feeling sick from the moment he woke up that morning.  They talked for a while about what to take, if anything?  What was the plan?  What were they going to do when they got there?  In the end they just packed themselves and Kurt into the car, and drove off. 

Michael fiddled with the radio for a while, finally swearing in disgust and turning it off. “There is no fucking good music these days,” he muttered. “Or if there is, I can’t find it. You found any masterpieces yet at the fat man’s?”

He looked at Danny, sat in the passenger seat with his arms around Kurt.  He was staring silently out of the window, and he had been that way for the last few days.  Michael had left him to it mostly.  He had heard from Lucy after the episode on the beach. “You’re nuts,” he had told her desperately, “please don’t do this!  He’ll be a mess, he won’t get it!”  Lucy had been crying, trying to explain how she felt.  Michael had felt the urge to hang up on her, but he hadn’t. 

“I just need to know he really wants me,” she had said, and Michael had thought that was just typical of a woman.  He was hoping the rest of the story would come out on the journey.  Danny had been brooding for days. 

“We should have a night at Chaos, you know,” he suggested, breaking the silence again.  “That could be a laugh.”

“It would have to be just you and me,” Danny replied, still staring out of the window.

“Eh?  Why?”

“You know why.  Gotta’ keep away from the rest of them,” Danny turned briefly to give Michael a dark stare.  “So they don’t get hurt.  Seems to be working lately.”  He sighed, and looked back to the window.

“Well not for much longer,” Michael said, “not once we’ve had it out with these three fuckers.  It’ll all be over mate.  You’ll be able to get on with your life.”

“Sometimes I doubt that will ever happen.”

“Oh don’t you be such a fucking pessimist!” Michael scolded him. “Don’t you pull that on me!  I’ve had enough of you sulking around these last few days.  You need to keep your chin up.  Think positive!”

Danny did not answer.  Michael rolled his eyes.  They had reached a junction, and he took the opportunity to light up a cigarette and pass another one to Danny.  He drove on, rolling down the window to let the smoke out.  “So spill the beans then,” he said. “What went on with you and Haskell?”

“Eh?”

“The interview.  Her pound of flesh.  Don’t try and tell me she gave you the addresses for nothing.”

“I’ve only got one address,” Danny corrected him, rolling down his own window and hanging one elbow out.

“One?  What happened to the others?”

“We didn’t trust each other,” Danny shrugged. “So I answered five questions for one address.  If this works out, I’ll answer some more questions, and so on.”

“Christ,” Michael gave him a puzzled look.  “She’s a viper that one, isn’t she?  That’s pretty clever that is.  What did she ask you anyway?”

“Oh just the usual shit.”

“It was okay then?  You didn’t mind?”

“I was drunk to be honest.”

“Oh Danny, you twat!” Michael groaned.  “I should have known.  I should have come down there and chased her off.  What a sneaky bitch!  Let me guess, she bought the drinks right?”  Danny shrugged in reply.

“It doesn’t matter.  It was easier to do it drunk.”

“Whatever you reckon mate.  Just be careful with her, I’m telling you.  She was relentless about it, eight years ago. I’m serious!” he shot a look at Danny, who yet again refused to meet his eyes.  “She followed Jake and Billy and Lucy to school and back, she hounded me and Anthony at the bed-sit, I’m telling you.  She wanted a visitors pass to see you inside.  She was obsessed!”

“She admitted that herself,” Danny told him, his tone weary. “She said she was there that morning, when the cops brought me out the house.  She saw it.  She told me all that.  I don’t care.”

“Well what does she want exactly?  To get famous? What?”

“I don’t know.  It’ll be some big article I think,” Danny smoked out of the window, his other arm carefully wrapped around Kurt.  “I’ll get to see it and check it before she publishes it.”

“She’ll be hoping to sell it to the nationals, or some stuck up ladies magazine or something,” Michael shook his head in disgust. “They’ll all be fighting over it mate.  She’ll make a fucking fortune, you do know that right?”

“Don’t care.”

“Okay.  It’s up to you.  You must know what you’re doing.”

“Not really,” Danny sighed again, and looked at him sheepishly. “I sort of went and slept with her afterwards.”

Michael’s mouth fell open.  He stared at Danny, but then had to look back to the road.  “Jesus fucking Christ!” he exclaimed in disbelief. “You filthy bastard!”

“Hmm.”

“You must have been hammered!”

“I was.”

“Oh and Lucy had just messed with your head,” Michael was nodding now, as it all began to make sense.  He shook his head and grinned sideways at his friend. “Oh well, fair enough, fair enough mate.  I don’t blame you.  She was hot back then, and she’s still hot now!  How was it?”

Danny just groaned and covered his eyes for a second. “Oh Mike don’t ask me that.  I feel sick enough about it.”

“Don’t feel sick about it, you idiot, any one of us would have done the same!  I know I would have, if she was laying it on a plate for me like that!”

“It’s kind of wrong though?”

“I don’t know,” Michael laughed and shrugged. “Not really.  You’re single now thanks to Lucy freaking out about nothing.  Isn’t that what she wanted you do do?  Sow your wild oats?  You’ll have to tell her mate, see if she’s happy now.”

Danny did not answer, and Michael realised that was the cue to change the subject.  He chuckled to himself silently though.  “You animal,” he murmured in amusement.

 

“We’re nearly there,” Danny remarked some time later.  Michael nodded, and wondered if his guts felt as sick as his own did.  Danny had an old a to z spread out on his lap and was frowning down at it.  They were driving through a pleasant looking housing estate just outside of Totton, not too far from the city centre.  Michael kept his eyes on the road signs, driving slowly. 

“You okay?” he asked Danny.

“I’m looking forward to this,” Danny replied, and Michael knew right away that he was lying.  Never mind, he thought, if we do this right, we’ll be making progress, we’ll be on the way to sorting this shit out.  Danny tapped his fingers on the map and checked the piece of paper Caroline had given him.  “Should be next on our left,” he said, looking up.  Michael drove on, his stomach tightening further.

“We should have bought weapons,” he commented. 

“We’re just gonna’ talk to him Mike.  We have to keep cool, okay?  In fact, unless I give you the nod, you just stay back and stay quiet, yeah?”

“Okay.  No problem.”

Michael pulled up in front of the house, and they both sat in the car, exhaling pent up breath, and staring out at number fifteen Rise View drive. It was an end terrace, possibly two bedrooms by the size of it.  The front garden was slightly overgrown, and the drive was empty.  There was a side gate, with two broken panels, leading around to the back.  The house had a small porch, and the windows were hung with tatty grey net curtains.  Michael noticed that there were no obvious signs of children, or family.  It looked a lot like a single man lived there alone.   Michael breathed out again and nudged Danny.  “What do you want to do mate?”

Danny was already getting out of the car.  He placed Kurt gently on the seat, left the window slightly open and gestured for Michael to follow.  They both stubbed the last of their cigarettes out on the pavement and looked again at the house. “Come on,” Danny muttered, and sinking his hands into his pockets, he headed for the door.

Michael followed, keeping just behind him.  Danny pressed the doorbell.  Michael felt his stomach do a flip, and his hairs stand on end.  He looked around at the rest of the street, but it seemed dead and quiet.  The inner door was opened and the shape of a man shuffled into the porch, undoing various locks.  Finally the porch door was pulled open and a face peered out at them.  If Danny was as taken back as Michael was, he did a fine job not showing it.  The face looked uncannily like Lee Howard.  The same high brow, the same small eyes, the receding hair-line, and small neat teeth were all identical.  The man looked like he had not shaved for a few days, and Michael could see he was wearing an unflattering beige cardigan and grey trousers.  “Hi,” Danny said quickly, and again Michael was amazed at how calm and steady his voice came out. “We’re really sorry to bother you sir.  Are you Dennis Howard?”

The man squinted at them both, looking confused and concerned. “Yes,” he said, and Michael noticed his voice was higher than Howard’s, and Jerry’s.  And when he spoke, his expression seemed different to theirs too.  Michael guessed he must be in his late forties at least but his voice somehow made him sound younger, younger and confused.  “That’s me.  Can I help you?”

Danny glanced momentarily at Michael, then back at Dennis. “Ah sir, Mr. Howard, this is a bit awkward.  This is about your brother Lee?  And your dad, Jerry?  I really need to talk to you about them.  Would we be able to come inside?”

The man’s forehead was creased with concern. “Lee’s dead,” he said, spluttering slightly over his words, spit flying out from between his lips.  He let the door open slightly wider though.  “That’s my brother.  He died.”

Danny looked wonderingly at Michael again.  “We know that sir,” he said to Dennis.  “Um, can we please come in and talk to you?  We really won’t be very long at all.”

“Okay,” the man agreed, sounding brighter then, and pulling the door wide open for him, as he shuffled back out of their way.  “You can come in.  I’m doing a crossword.”

Michael followed Danny in.  Something was not right, he thought.  This guy was not what they had expected at all.  He closed both doors behind them, and the man led them into his lounge, which was at the front of the house.  It smelled of vegetables, Michael thought sniffing, cabbage and leeks, that sort of thing, as if the guy had been eating them all day.  Now they were inside, Michael looked closer at Lee Howard’s brother.  He was shorter and slighter than Lee had been, sort of stooped over even.  He put his hands into the pockets of his loose grey trousers now, and stood sort of clumsily and awkwardly in his own room.  Then suddenly his face lit up, as if he had remembered something.  “Tea?” he asked them, and Michael saw he had a strange way of looking at them.  He sort of kept his head turned away, and looked at them sideways, as if he thought he wasn’t allowed to look right at them.  It was odd, Michael thought, really odd.  “I can make tea!” he said.  Danny looked at Michael and then shook his head at Dennis.

“No thank you Dennis.  Can we sit down a minute?  We won’t keep you long.”

“Yes, yes, you can sit down there,” he jerked his shoulder towards a short green sofa, and Danny and Michael promptly sat down.  The man nodded towards the armchair he was stood next to.  There was a newspaper on the seat.  “I’m doing a crossword,” he said again.  Danny nodded.

“Um, Dennis?  Lee was your older brother right?  You grew up together?”

“My big brother, yes,” the man replied, closing his eyes as a strange smile pulled his lips out to either side.  He kept his hands balled in his pockets.  Michael wondered why he did not sit down.  “He’s dead now.”

“And Jerry, he’s your dad?”

“Oh yes, yes, my dad, yes.”  Again Michael watched him talking to them, with his head turned slightly the other way. He was looking out of the corner of his eye the whole time.

“Do you see your dad much?” Danny asked him. 

“No he doesn’t come here,” was the immediate reply.  The man screwed up his face as if thinking.  “Oh he used to come to River House.  He came there!”

“What’s River House?”

“Where I was, where I lived, at River House.  He came there!  But he doesn’t come here, no.”

Danny looked at Michael and shrugged.  Michael mouthed the word simple to him, wonderingly and Danny replied with a quick nod.  He looked back at Dennis, who was still standing with his fists in his pockets.  “Dennis, you don’t know who I am, do you?”

“No,” the man shook his head, and smiled a little.  Danny bit his lip briefly and then sat forward on the sofa, his hands clasped between his knees.

“Dennis, your brother Lee, he was my stepfather for a while.”

Dennis screwed his face up again, his eyes disappearing. “Oh.”

“Yeah, he married my mum, Kay?  Did you know that?”

“Oh he had a bad boy, I know that,” Dennis nodded triumphantly, as if he was pleased he had remembered this piece of information.  “They told me that.  Dad told me that yes.  Lee had a boy, he had a bad boy.”  He carried on nodding.

“Yeah, that was me,” Danny went on.  “We didn’t get on.  Do you know what happened to Lee?  How he died?”

“Bad boy did it,” Dennis nodded in certainty, eyes on Danny, but head turned.

“That’s right,” Danny said gently.  “And I went to prison for a long time.  But now I’m out.  The thing is, some people are out to get me.  I think it might be your dad.  Wanting revenge.  That’s why we came to see you today.  To see if you could help us.”

“Oh,” Dennis said wonderingly.  “I don’t see my dad anymore.  He’s not proud of me.  He was proud of Lee.”

“Yes, I know he was.  Why wasn’t he proud of you Dennis?”

“Because I was at River House.  Because I was a bad boy.”

Michael sat and stared.  The guy sounded almost rehearsed in his answers, he thought, as if he had been told the same things again and again.

“You were a bad boy?” Danny was leaning forward even more, just perched on the edge of the sofa now.  “What do you mean Dennis? What did you do?”

“Oh it’s a secret,” Dennis whimpered now, his voice a little higher, his eyes darting about the room, his head turned even further the other way.  He was turning his body now too, sort of shuffling around, away from their staring eyes.

Danny got up.  Michael watched him approach the man slowly, sort of stooping to catch his lowered eyes.  “Dennis,” he said in a gentle voice. “It’s okay.  I’ve got a secret too you see.  Maybe me and you are the same?  Did they think you were a bad boy too?”

“Yes!” Dennis said, nodding vehemently, looking distressed now. “Yes I was!”

“But why ?  What did you do?  We won’t tell anyone, we promise.  I can tell you my secrets, if you tell me yours.”

Michael watched, mesmerised from the sofa.  If he had imagined this scene in any way, it had never been like this.  The guy was obviously not quite right in the head, for whatever reason.  It kind of explained why Lee had never mentioned him, he thought, and it explained why Jerry had been so proud of Lee, and had nothing to do with this son.  The poor bugger, he found himself thinking. 

“It’s because I did bad things,” Dennis spluttered now, his eyes still on Danny. He had pulled his hands out of his pockets and sort of curled them up under his chin, as if trying to protect himself somehow.

“What bad things?” Danny asked him.

“I did bad things with Lee’s friend,” Dennis said then, backing himself up to the wall, his hands knotted under his own chin, his face turned away, but his small eyes still fixed firmly on Danny.  There was a shattering silence.  Michael got to his feet.

“What friend?” Danny asked, his voice a whisper.  Michael stared, waiting, knowing, dreading.  He felt vomit rise in his throat and swallowed, coughing and tasting bile on his tongue. 

“His friend Jack,” Dennis told them, shrinking even further now. “His good friend Jack.  Bad things.  I was a bad boy.  So I went to River House.  Did you go to River House?”

Michael watched Danny’s shoulders fall from behind.  “No,” he told the man with a heavy sigh.  “I went somewhere else.  Jack Freeman was still Lee’s friend when I knew him.  I know who you mean.”

The man dropped his hands a little and moved slightly away from the wall.  He was staring at Danny in wonder.  “Did you do bad things with him too?  Is that why you are a bad boy too?”

Danny turned abruptly and nodded at Michael. “Let’s go,” he said gruffly, his eyes down.  “We’re sorry we bothered you Dennis. We have to go now.”

Danny headed quickly for the door and Michael followed. He took a last lingering look back at the guy, whose face fell as they left the room. “Goodbye,” he called after them, shuffling slowly into the hall. “Goodbye!”

Michael closed both doors behind him and unlocked the car so Danny could get in.  “You okay?” he asked, knowing he would not get an answer. Danny swept Kurt from the seat and hoisted him into the back.  Michael sat for a minute, key in the ignition, not sure what to do.  He looked at Danny, and saw his face was like thunder, and his fists were clenched tightly in his lap.  “Danny?”

“Fuck!” he snarled suddenly, lashing out and punching the dashboard. “Fuck! Fuck’s sake!”

“What is it?”

Danny shook his head, punched the dashboard again and then dropped his head down into his hands.  He clawed restlessly at his hair for a moment, and then jerked back violently and smashed his fist into the door.  “Danny stop beating up my car!” Michael gasped, hoping to joke him out of it.

“Just drive!” Danny snapped back at him, lifting one foot onto the seat and turning his face to the window.  “Just fucking get us out of here!”

“All right, all right, calm down, just calm down, I’m going.” Michael started the car and pulled away from Dennis Howard’s house.  “That was weird,” he said, right away.  “That was not what I expected at all.  The guy was not all there, right?” he glanced at Danny who nodded in return.  “Christ.  Those bastards.  That’s why they never mentioned him, right?  They were ashamed of him.  Sounds like they shut him away somewhere.”  He glanced sideways again.  Danny was shaking his head slightly, but quickly, pulling at his bottom lip with his fingers and looking like he wanted to kill someone.  “Dan?” Michael pressed gently.  “Just tell me you’re okay, yeah?  What are you thinking?”

“Fuck,” Danny said again, and then took a deep breath.  “Fuck.  Nothing.  Just drive.”

 

Michael did as he was told and drove.  As they neared home, Danny spoke up, only to ask if he could drop him at his mother’s house.  Michael was concerned.  After everything they had just discovered, why did Danny want to go there?  “Why?” he asked him.

“Need to talk to her.”

“All right mate.”

There was nothing else he could do.  He pulled up and let him out a short while later.  Danny took Kurt from the back seat, muttered a thank you and stalked away without another word.  Michael watched him go, feeling both bewildered and uneasy.  His gut reaction was to contact Anthony, or Lucy, but frustratingly he was not allowed to.  He drove on towards home occupying the shell-shocked silence alone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

28

Kay

 

           

            Having received his message, Kay left work early and hurried home as fast as she could.  She arrived to find him sat at the top of the stairs, just outside the door to her flat, with his little dog beside him.  She approached cautiously, never certain what mood she would find him in.  He had mostly been avoiding and ignoring her lately, so it had automatically filled her with both hope and fear to be summoned this way.  She stopped in front of him, and he did not look at her, but merely got stiffly to his feet and waited to be let into the flat. “Are you all right?” she asked him, dragging out her keys.

“No I’m fucking not,” was the terse reply.  Kay grimaced and let them both in.  Danny slouched into the lounge and sat on the edge of the sofa.  She glanced at him worriedly, before dropping her keys and handbag on the side table, and bustling into the kitchen to put on the kettle.

“You want tea?” she asked him over her shoulder.  He did not answer, and when she poked her head back around the door, he was staring morosely down at the carpet, his hands laced together tightly between his knees.  She thought he looked tightly sprung, as if about to explode at any second. She decided to make him one anyway, almost as a way to delay whatever was about to erupt.

Kay brought the teas and a plate of biscuits through to the lounge, and set them down on the coffee table in front of the sofa.  She hovered then, not knowing whether she ought to sit beside him, or on one of the armchairs. She struggled in her mind to decide upon a question.  She thought about asking him how the job was going, but then she decided not to delay the inevitable. “What is it?” she asked finally, standing next to him.  “What’s wrong?”

“Where do I start?” he sighed, lifting his hands and pressing them briefly to his face.  “Fucking everything, how about that?  Life is one shit disaster after another, and I wish I’d stayed in fucking prison, how about that?” he dropped his hands and stared up at her, challenging her to disagree. “I’m seriously thinking about disappearing.  Just going away.  Going far away and never coming back.”

Kay sat down cautiously beside him.  She longed to reach out and touch him, but she didn’t dare.  She could feel the anger throbbing from him violently.  “Why don’t you tell me what’s happened?  Start at the beginning?”

“The beginning?” he questioned, gazing at her in wonder, as if he simply did not understand her.  “Well I’m not sure where the beginning is mum.  I think to be honest it’s when you met a psychopathic maniac and decided to marry him!  That might be the beginning!”

“Okaaay,” she nodded slowly. “I can see where this is going.  You don’t look like you are coping you know honey.  You look awful.  I did say before I thought you should get some help?”

“I want to punch something,” he said then, his eyes wide.  Kay flinched without meaning to.

“Danny?”

“I do.  I really fucking do.  I want to punch something.  I’m gonna go fucking mental in a minute!”

She got up then.  She couldn’t stop herself.  There was a look in his eye that unsettled her and made her nervous.  She picked her tea up from the table and crossed the room to stand next to the patio doors that led out to the balcony.  “You need to take some deep breaths, calm down and talk to me Danny,” she looked back and told him.  “Either that, or you go somewhere else, somewhere safe and find something to take it out on.  Or maybe I should call Lucy?”

Danny laughed then, rolling his eyes at her.  “Lucy dumped me mum.  Few days ago.  She called it quits.  It’s over.”

Kay released her breath slowly then, a small amount of relief falling over her.  So that was what this was about.  It was beginning to make sense.  “Okay,” she said carefully.  “What did she say?”

He waved a hand at her in frustration, his expression dark.  “Oh just a load of crap about me needing to be single!  She wants me to shag around or something, so she can be sure I want her.”  Danny shook his head, his lips curled.  “Fucking bullshit.  She just wants out.  Simple as that.  I’m too much trouble.  I’m damaged goods.”

“Don’t say that…”

“But it’s true.  That’s what she thinks, I know it.  Who can blame her eh?”

“Oh come on now,” Kay tilted her head at him sternly. “Don’t you start all the self-pitying crap with me Danny, you know I won’t stand for it.”

“You are unbelievable,” he said then, and she saw his hands reach out to either side of his legs, gripping onto the edge of the sofa, as if trying to anchor himself in place.

“Danny, I just mean calm down.  This won’t do any good.”

“It’s all your fault, you know that don’t you?”

Kay looked at him steadily.  She liked the distance between them, but could not stop looking at his hands, gripping the sofa so hard his knuckles had turned white. 

“Okay,” she said.  “You’re probably right, and we all know that.  What do you want to do about it?”

He turned then wildly, letting go and plunging his fist into the sofa cushion.  Kay flinched again, and backed closer to the doors.  She stood back and watched her son lose control.  She watched him digress to nothing more than an enraged infant, as he swiped the cushions, threw them to the floor and kicked them, before turning and knocking the cups and plate from the table so viciously they were hurled across the room, the white china shattering against the far wall.  He then stomped towards the wall, kicked at the pieces of broken crockery, before pounding both fists into the wall, one after the other.  She heard him grunting with pain and rage.  She felt tears in her eyes and longed to touch him, to comfort him and hold him, but her feet remained planted to the ground.

Finally she watched him pull in his fists, wincing in pain, and he turned and sank slowly to the floor, holding one hand in the other, his back sliding down the wall.  She went to him then.  She put down her mug and crouched down beside him.  The anger was slowly ebbing away, and now he hung his head miserably in one hand, pushing his bloodied knuckles back through his hair and hanging on there.  Kay touched his cheek, smoothing away his tears.  “It’s good to let it out,” she said softly to him then, her face close to his.  “It will do you good.”

“I saw his brother,” he said then, his eyes down, his head still hanging.  Kay tensed and pulled back.

“Whose brother?”

“Lee’s.   I found out where Dennis lived, and me and Mike just went to see him.”

Kay sucked her breath in and looked wildly around the room, shaking her head in confusion.  “Dennis?”

“Dennis is mentally handicapped, in some way,” Danny muttered through his hanging hair.  “That’s why Lee never saw him or talked about him.  He’s simple mum.  Backwards.”

Kay waited, blinking in surprise, at a total loss for words, not understanding.  Danny crossed his arms over his knees then, and lowered his head, totally obscuring his face from her.  She could see his shoulders shaking though.  She put her hand on his shoulder, waiting for more.  “He said they put him in some kind of home,” he said then. “Because he’d been bad.  He’d been bad with Lee’s friend Jack.”

Kay stiffened in confusion.  She patted his shoulders and had never felt more useless or lost.  “What do you mean?”

“What do you think I mean mum? Jack must have…” he sighed a shuddery sigh, his shoulders heaving slowly up and down as he battled to regain control of himself.  “I think he meant Jack messed around with him…They told him he was bad and shut him away.”

Kay tightened her grip slowly on his shoulder, rubbing it firmly.  She brought her other hand up then, now that she was sure he would not pull away, and she placed it on his head and gently smoothed back his hair.  “This is why you are like this,” she said softly, and watched him nod.  “He wasn’t what you expected to find. Oh Danny, when is all this mess ever going to end?  Do you want to talk to me Danny?  Do you want to talk to me about Jack?  You and Jack?”

She felt his head shake slowly under her hand.  “I don’t know…” his voice came up muffled.  “’Cause I don’t remember…I don’t know.”

“But you think there was something, don’t you honey?  You remember something, don’t you?”

Her hand bobbed up and down as he nodded his silent reply, and she felt the tears cascading then, flowing effortlessly down from her eyes, and her cheeks began to sting and she tasted them on her lips.  She pressed her forehead down onto his hair.

“I don’t know what was dreams, and what was real,” she heard him mumble, and he sounded so very far away, that she wrapped both her arms tightly around him, keeping her head next to his.  “I used to wake up really confused…I thought I dreamt stuff…I thought it was the drugs.  I didn’t want to think about it.”

“And that bastard knew though, didn’t he?  He knew what Jack had done, what he was capable of…” Kay felt it then, stronger and deeper than ever, the hatred that had been festering inside her for years, she felt it double and intensify, and she had no idea what a person was supposed to do with a feeling like that.  If he wasn’t already dead, she thought then, I would kill him.

“I didn’t know that…I didn’t know anything for sure until Anthony found out.  He and Jaime Lawler did the digging.  It took him ages you know, and he had to pay money.  But when he found out, he told me and Mike to stay away and we did.”

“But before that?  Before that, you were around at his flat a lot, I remember,” Kay breathed slowly into his hair, wishing that her touch and love alone would be enough to mend him, but knowing in her heart that there would never be anything she could do.  “Oh it disgusts me now…to think back, how cosy and nice he made it seem. Like Jack was looking out for you.  Giving you somewhere you could hang out.  I thought it was really nice of him.”

“I’ve got to find him next.”

Kay pulled back, her arms now loosely around him.  “What?”

“Jack.  He’s next on my list.  This reporter woman is helping me find them.  So I can stop all this harassment.”

“Danny look at me.”

He did, painfully slowly, dragging the back of one hand across each wet eye. He met her eyes as if it were the hardest thing in the world to do.  “I have to,” he told her.  She frowned, shook her head at him and reached out to touch the stitches in his head.

“I don’t want you to.  Leave it to the police Danny, please.  It isn’t safe. Look what they’ve done to you already.”

“It’s too late.  I’ve already started and I’m not giving up now,” Kay looked at him and saw a little light return to his eyes, a little anger and fight, and she wanted to smile at it, but at the same time the thought of what he was proposing was terrifying.  “I have to try and end this,” he went on.  “To get them to stop and leave you all alone.  Leave me alone.  I’ll try mum, I’ll try to stop them, but if it doesn’t work, and if the cops do nothing, then I’ll have to leave.  I’ll go far away.  I’ll be on my own.  I’ll have to.”

She looked back at him and she didn’t know what to say except for; “I’ll help you.  What can I do to help you?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head.  “You all have to stay out of it.  I’ve got to do it mum.  I’ve got to close the door on all of this for good.  It’s the only way.  It’s the only chance I’ve got.”

“And what about Lucy?  Are you going to close the door on her too?”

Danny blew out a huge breath, blinked a few times and rubbed his face dry with both hands.  He got up slowly, using the wall to help, and then stumbled across the room to the sofa.  “She’s closed the door on me,” he replied, dumping himself down again and yawning.  His little dog had immediately jumped onto the sofa beside him and climbed nimbly onto his lap. 

“It’s not like you think,” Kay told him, kneeling down and picking up the pieces of broken crockery.  “She loves you.  You know she came to see me and told me?  She just needs to know she’s enough for you, that you really want her.”

“She told you that?”

Kay looked up and saw him eyeing her cautiously from the sofa. She wondered wearily if he would erupt again.  “I told you, she came to see me.  To talk about you.  Well, a lot of it was her wanting to know how I could have possibly stood by and let Lee…well, you know.  But aside from that, she was worried about where you two were heading.”

“Well what does that mean?”

“It means, she spent eight years without you, living a life, gaining a little experience of life and the world, and it didn’t take much for her to work out that you are the one she wants.  For good.”  Kay got up, dusted down her skirt and carried the broken pieces into the kitchen.  She deposited them into the bin, grabbed the half bottle of wine in the fridge, two glasses, and marched back to where he was sprawled on the sofa.  “Here,” she poured him a glass and pushed it at him.  “You look exhausted.  Have that and maybe a good sleep.”

Danny took the glass. “Why can’t she accept that I do want her?” he asked, trying and failing to stifle another huge yawn.  “Why can’t she believe that?”

“Well, probably because of what you’ve been through,” Kay sat down beside him.  “It’s not a normal situation is it?  Maybe you just have to try to trust her Danny.  That she’s doing it for the right reasons,” she lifted her shoulders in a shrug and dropped one hand onto his knee.  “Maybe a little time apart will do you both good.  You know, give you both time to think and take it all in.  Being back together after eight years would be tough enough on its own, but then there’s all this other stuff to deal with too.  I know you won’t like me saying this, but I do understand what she is doing, I think she is doing it for your own good, and I think somewhere deep inside you do know that.”

Danny did not answer.  He finished his wine and rested on the sofa.  She watched him smoke two cigarettes, one after the other, before he let his head fall back.  Ten minutes later he was asleep.  Kay sat and looked at him, a smile trembling on her lips.  Reminds me of when you were a baby, she thought to herself, fight, fight, fight, all day long, until you finally crashed, totally exhausted.   He stayed the night, covered up on the sofa with a blanket, his little dog curled up beside him.  Kay spent the night watching him. It will end for you, she promised him silently, I know it will.

25

Lucy

 

 

            It was going to be a strange, seeing him.  Lucy had a lot on her mind.  She was still feeling shell shocked and on edge since the creepy phone call.  Nothing else had come her way, but the news of the fight in the pub had reached her before she could get over to Michael’s flat.  Danny had sent a humorous text to warn her; we all look like shit!  Lucy didn’t find any of it funny though.  All of it, from the letters and the bricks, to the phone calls and the fight, all of it turned her stomach and sickened her.  More and more she found herself in sympathy with Anthony’s wife.  Who would want to be caught up in all this mess, she wondered?  Who would choose to?

Danny came out of the flat limping slightly, with Kurt at his heels.  Lucy looked him up and down, shaking her head slowly in despair.  He grinned at her and sort of grimaced, trying to edge her towards a joke.  He had a deep cut to the right of his forehead, just above his eye. She winced at the criss cross of stitches, the ugly bruising.  She felt the immediate urge to hug him, but then something stopped her, something held her back, and she sighed, and guessed she knew what it was.  “The police have come up with nothing?” she asked, thinking it to be a useless question, and one to which the answer was obvious.

“Nah,” he shrugged in reply. “Not yet.  But they will.  The pub?”

“I don’t think so,” Lucy replied, glancing over her shoulder nervously. “Can we just go for a walk to the beach with Kurt?  Maybe get some fish and chips?”

“That sounds brilliant,” Danny beamed, and she knew again that he was faking it.  That he had been doing that a lot with her.  She slipped her arm through his and they walked on.  “Can I duck in on the fat man on the way back though? Saw him in the pub last night and he kind of offered me a job!”

Lucy stared at him in surprise, genuine relief flooding her. “Did he? Really?  Terry?”

“Yep,” Danny nodded proudly, and she could see how excited he was about it. “Just got to say hi quick. See what he reckons. Is that okay?”

“Course it is! That’s amazing news Danny, I am so pleased for you.”

“Me too,” he beamed, hugging her to his side with one arm. “Everything okay your end?” he asked he after a few moments had lapsed past in silence.

“Fine,” she nodded. “Actually Carl stayed over last night.” She glanced up at him, looking for a reaction. “I was a bit freaked out again.  Just keep feeling watched, you know?”  She saw him clench his teeth briefly before replying.

“Oh that was nice of him.  Yeah, I know what you mean.  After yesterday, I feel like I should be looking over my shoulder the whole time.  But fuck it.  What can we do?” He shrugged at her. “Just have to hope the cops come up with something.”

“Do you still want me to do that search online?  I haven’t really had the chance, with everything going on.”

He shook his head at her. “No, no don’t bother.  I’m just leaving it to the police Luce.  I don’t want you involved.  I don’t want any of you involved.” He shrugged at her again.  “Safer that way.”

They came out onto the high street, and slipped between the hurrying crowds. They headed down towards the crescent, at the end of the high street.  “How are Michael and Anthony?” Lucy asked eventually. Danny released a sigh.

“Lucky they weren’t hurt worse,” he admitted. “Poor Anthony went down like a sack of shit when that ape brained him with a pint glass. He was out for a while.  They were kicking the shit out of him.  Then I got this!” he pointed to his cut. “Didn’t pass out though.  Think we got them back a bit.” He chuckled softly to himself, and Lucy pretended not to notice.

“Unbelievable,” she said again, shivering as she couldn’t resist another look over her shoulder. “Makes you feel unsafe, wherever you are.”

“Wherever I am,” he corrected her, with a wry smile.  Lucy rolled her eyes at him and nudged him with her elbow.

“It’s not your fault.  These people are sick.  They need to be stopped.”

“Let’s not talk about it,” Danny said then.  They had reached the crescent, so called because of the little crescent shaped park to the right of the main road.  It was surrounded by a loop of knackered old benches, usually filled with sleeping bodies wrapped in blankets. It was fairly empty now though.  A young man in a hooded top was throwing a Frisbee for his bull terrier, and two young women in short skirts were smoking next to the bus stop.  Lucy shivered again, and wondered why Danny and Michael liked this place so much.  Belfield Park had not changed, she thought.  It was still bed-sit city, a place filled with unfortunate people. 

They took the road to the left, which wound slowly and gently down to the beach.  When their feet hit the sand, Kurt trotted off ahead of them, sniffing the sea air and wagging his tail that much faster.  “Gorgeous,” Lucy breathed, as the wind from the sea swept her hair back from her forehead.  “Freezing, but gorgeous.”

“We’ll get fish and chips along there,” Danny said pointing to the promenade. “There’s a place always open.”

“Lovely.”

They walked on, hand in hand now.  Lucy told herself to enjoy the closeness while it lasted.  They got their fish and chips and sat down on the sand to eat them.  They tasted divine, but Lucy found herself closely watching every person that passed them.  She wondered if Danny was examining them all as she was, wondering if any of them were watching them, or following them, wondering if they were about to be set upon or attacked at random.  It was a horrible, disquieting feeling, which made the fish and chips harder to appreciate, as her stomach began to knot and twist in nerves.  When she could eat no more, Lucy pushed her share onto Danny and decided it had been long enough.  “Who was that woman yesterday?” she asked him, looking sideways to catch his expression.  She saw it immediately before he disguised it.  Guilt.  Fear.

“Woman?”

“Yes.  Outside my flat.  I saw you with a woman.  You looked like you knew her, and then you walked off with her.”

“Oh!” Danny sounded amused now.  “That was just that reporter woman that’s been sniffing around.  Caroline Haskell.  She keeps hounding me for an interview.  She reckons I need to tell my side of the story.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.  That’s who that was.  I went to the pub with her, only because she said it was on her and I thought it might shut her up.”

Lucy nodded and looked back out at the sea.  She was silent for a while, remembering a younger her and Danny, sat like this, side by side, week after week.  It had started the day she had spotted him stalking angrily past in his suit, the day he refused to go to his mothers’ wedding.  They had started meeting there every Sunday morning.  Sometimes no one would see him all week.  He would be like the invisible kid. So oh how blessed and lucky she felt when she was the one he chose to meet with.  Most of the time they would sit and not even talk.  He’d never been much of a talker, she remembered.  If she wanted conversation with him, then she would have to work at it, and ask him questions, pull him slowly out of himself.  She remembered seeing his bruises.  Different ones every week.  For a long time she was too innocent, too sheltered to realise what they meant.  She imagined him as the bad boy they all said he was.  Getting into fights and scrapes.  Doing stunts on his bike.

There was that time he had weeks off school, and the teacher had told them all he had been hurt at the cliff top, falling from his bike. They had all made him this stupid big card, and signed their names.  Only Michael, Jake and Billy had refused to sign it, and she had wondered why.  Years later she was to learn that he had been hurt at home.  Anthony had been arrested for drugs offences.  Michael had been going crazy the whole time telling anyone that would listen that Lee Howard was behind it all; Anthony’s arrest and Danny’s accident. That Anthony had warned him to leave Danny alone, and this was the outcome.  Anthony gone.  Whisked back to jail for something he had not done.  Lucy shivered again, and this time she could not stop.  She felt him go to put his arm around her, and she stopped him by pulling away.  He frowned at her, his eyes hurt.  “You’re not going to like what I’m about to say,” she warned him then, and he looked even more worried.  “But I’m going to say it.  I want you to listen and try to understand.”

“You’re scaring me Lucy,” he said.  She knew.  She felt wretched.  She hung her head for a moment.

“I think we should stop seeing each other for a while.”

“What?”  His voice was a croak, a strangled cry.  She looked up, right into his eyes and thought to herself, she would probably never say anything so vital, so important again, so she had to get it right, she had to make him understand so that it would hurt him less. 

“It’s not because of all the stuff going on,” she assured him, placing one hand over his and squeezing down.  Her hair was being whipped back and forth by the wind from the sea.  She lifted one hand to hold it away from her face. “It’s scary, and I am scared, but that isn’t why I’m saying this.”

He looked bereft, and so confused.  “Why then?”

“Partly because of that woman.  Well not her specifically.  But women.”

“What?  I don’t get it.”

“It’s going to sound crazy, but I’ve been worried about it for some time.  Even before you got out.  And the way things have been going, I’ve thought it more and more.  And then seeing you with her, the way you looked at each other, I knew I had to say it.”

Danny pulled his hand out from under hers and glared. “What do you mean, the way we were looking at each other?  I don’t even know her!”

  “I know that, I know, I’m not accusing you of anything.” Lucy searched for his hand again and found it with hers, even though she felt his stiffen under it.  “The thing is Danny, we just had each other right?  Before you went to prison?” he nodded at her, biting at his bottom lip.  “And while you were there, I had a couple of boyfriends, you know that right?” Again, he nodded.  She swallowed, feeling a little like she was suddenly elevated to the adult position, and him down to the child’s. “So I had the chance, you see, to experience other people, other relationships, and that proved to me that it was you I wanted.  I couldn’t stop thinking about you Danny.  It was never going to work with other men, while I still thought I had a chance of something with you.”

“I don’t understand,” he said, sounding exasperated. “You’re not making any sense!”

“Just listen,” Lucy insisted, her eyes on his.  “What I’m saying is I had that chance, to experience other people, to figure out what I wanted, but you haven’t.  You’ve been locked inside since you were sixteen.  You only know about me.  You see?  How do you know for sure that I’m the one for you?”

Danny laughed then, but the sound made Lucy pull her hand from his.  It was a brutal, bitter laugh, and it matched the hardness that had suddenly filled his eyes. “You must be fucking kidding me?” he asked her.  “This must be some kind of joke, right?”

“No, Danny,” she shook her head at him. “And when I saw you with that woman, I realised it even more.  You need to be single.  You need to do all the things you never got the chance to do.  Be young free and single, a young lad, all of that.  So you can figure out who you are and what you want.”

It wasn’t getting through.  She could see that now.  His eyes were clouded with anger and resentment, his jaw jutting out, his lips screwed tightly together.  He looked so young all of a sudden that it was heartbreaking.  She wanted to reach out and wrap her arms around him, but she knew that was just another part of it all that was wrong; her feeling the need to mother him.  It was all wrong. 

“Let me get this straight,” he said to her then, his voice cold.  “Because I’m obviously really fucking dumb.  You’re dumping me right?”

“No, Danny,” she tried to explain, reaching for his hand again, but this time it was him who pulled away.  “It’s not like that.  Please try to listen to what I’m saying.  I’m giving you the chance to find out what you want.  I need to know that I’m really what you want, that I’m enough for you, that we’re right together.  I can’t get rid of the feeling that you’ve not had the chance to…” Lucy shook her head then, searching for the right words.

“To sleep around?” Danny finished for her, his voice louder.  She looked at him and sighed.

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Yes it is, don’t bullshit me Lucy.  You want me to be single?  You want me to go and shag around for a while?” He widened his eyes, waiting for her to answer.  She couldn’t.  She was perilously close to tears. “That is what you’re saying, isn’t it?  Because I haven’t had the chance?”

“That’s sort of it,” she tried again. “But I don’t want you to think it’s because I don’t want to be with you…because I do…I just…”

“You’re doing this for my own good?” he cried, throwing up both hands, and knocking all the chips from his lap.  Lucy looked at him and wanted to shrink away.  His blue eyes flared back at her, his top lip curled. “This is so fucking funny! You’re dumping me after only a few weeks.  So I can sleep around?  Nice one Lucy.  Fucking class.”  He got up suddenly then, taking her by surprise.  He was marching away across the sand before she even had time to call out. 

Lucy forced herself to get to her feet and run after him.  She caught his elbow, but he pulled it viciously away.  “Danny, don’t just storm off, for God’s sake!”

“Why?  What else have you got to say to me?  I don’t think I want to hear anything else thanks Luce.  I already feel like a right fucking twat.”

“You don’t need to, don’t be silly! Just stop and talk properly to me.  Talk like a grown up.”

“Oh so now I’m not a grown up either?” He did stop walking then.  He whirled to face her, his expression close to rage.  “So in your eyes I’m not a real man, or a grown up until I’ve shagged some random women?  Right?”

“No Danny, no,” Lucy shook her head.  The tears were coming now, and she could do nothing to stop them.  “It’s more than that.  You’re not giving me chance to explain.  I just want you to be sure that’s all.  How can I live the rest of my life knowing you just got stuck with me?”

“Stuck with you?”  Danny shouted at her. “How am I stuck with you?”

“Because, because of all that happened.  Because you didn’t have a normal life, when you were a teenager.  You didn’t get to be like other teenagers!”

“And that makes me stuck with you?”  He placed his hands on his hips and shook his head at the sand.  “You’re insane Lucy, you really are.  I thought you’d credit me with more intelligence.  I loved you, you stupid cow.” He lifted his eyes to hers then.  “I fucking loved you back then and I love you now. I don’t understand why you’re doing this to us.”

Lucy bit her trembling lower lip and pressed her hand up to his cheek.  He did not pull away this time.  He just stared at her in misery, not understanding.  She felt like a bitch and wondered what the hell she was doing.  “I’m doing it for you,” she told him, realising that as she spoke them, the words sounded hopeless. “I want you to be free and find out who you are, and then come back to me when you know it’s right.  I’ll wait for you, I promise.”

His eyes hardened again.  His lips tightened and he slapped her hand away from his face.  “Don’t bother,” he snarled at her.  “You did this to me once before, remember?  When I didn’t show up to your precious beach?  Ha, how fucking fitting here we are on another fucking beach!  I guess you planned this all, yeah? Don’t cry.” He placed a finger on her cheek, and pressed down on the tear that lay there, wiping it away so roughly that she flinched and drew back from him.  “Don’t fucking cry over it Lucy.  You did this before.  You gave up on me then, as soon as the going got tough.  I forgave you that time, because you didn’t know the full story.  Well you can forget it this time.  I’m not forgiving you this time.  You want me to go and shag other women yeah?”  He gestured wildly to the beach around them.  “Right then.  Off I go!  I’ll report back, shall I?  I’ll text you all the grotty details?  Let you know how I get on, shall I?”

“Danny, don’t…”

“Well you’ll want to know, won’t you?  You’ll want to know who I do it with, and what it’s like?  Hey, maybe they’ll teach me some new tricks eh?” He stepped towards her again, this time pushing his face right down into hers.  “Maybe that’s what this is all about.  Not experienced enough for you, am I?  Not good enough in bed?  Or maybe you think I’m damaged goods, eh?”

“Danny!” she stared at him in horror.  She watched his face shut down.  All emotion seemed to flood right out of it.  He just looked pale and cold.

“Fuck you,” he said, and walked away.

Lucy stood alone on the beach, her body shaking with sobs.  She covered her mouth with both hands, watching him go.  He walked briskly and stiffly into the distance, with the little dog hurrying along at his heels.  She felt sick.  She had known it would go badly, but she had not expected his fury to come like that.  It had been like looking at a stranger, she thought helplessly.  Oh God, what have I done?

 

 

 

 

 

 

26

Danny

 

 

            This just keeps getting better and better.  This is fucking unbelievable.  I wish I’d stayed inside.  I wish I’d been locked up forever. In a state of shock and confusion, Danny made his way back towards the high street.  He felt like he had been slapped in the face.  Kicked in the balls.  He felt like she had ripped the ground from right under his feet.  Why did she want to hurt him so much?  Why now?  In the middle of all of this shit?  She wants shot of me, she wants out, why am I surprised?  Why would anyone want me? He walked on, faster and faster, head down, hands in pockets, unable to make sense of it.  He felt blinded by rage and choked by pain.  He wanted to go to the pub and get smashed.  He wanted someone to come and have a pop.  Get into a fight.

His mind wandered back to the previous day.  The fight.  In a strange and unsettling way, it had been something he understood.  Something he recognised.  Fear is worse than pain.  He remembered how he had figured this out when he was a kid.  How it had helped him get through the bad times.  How he used to sit and study the pain, remove himself from it, as far as he was able to.  He would try to separate his mind from his hurting physical body, and analyse the pain, try to work out exactly what it was.  It was burning, or it was throbbing, or it was sickening dull ache in his belly from the day before.  Whatever it was, he had worked out a way to get away from it, whilst accepting it at the same time.

It was the fear, he remembered now.  It was the fear that was so horrible, so soul-destroying.  It was the physical manifestation of fear, the spine tingling sensation, of fingers creeping along your skin, then coming to life inside the pit of your belly, stirring you up.  It was the same now.  The fear of what could happen, the fear of who was after him, and what they might do next, that was a hundred times worse than the pain of having a glass smashed in your face.  Danny smiled to himself bitterly, and marched down the high street.

He almost stormed straight past Terry’s shop. It was only nearly bumping into a skinny kid with a pink mohican that stopped him in his tracks.  The kid staggered off down the street, a pile of vinyl twelve inches tucked gleefully under one arm.  Danny peered through the open door, and his shoulders sagged. He wanted to get to the pub badly, but he didn’t want to let Terry down, so he took a deep breath and walked into the shop.  Immediately he stopped in the doorway and inhaled deeply, even closing his eyes for a brief, calming second.  A smile touched his lips, before fading away again.  The smell, it was the same, just the same. Dusty shelves, dusty record sleeves, and the smell of the vinyl itself.  Danny looked around him.  Another scruffy haired teenager had his back to him, while he flicked ruthlessly through the records.  The shop was smaller than Terry’s old one, so it appeared overstocked, almost every conceivable space had been filled with shelves, and tables overflowing with records, cassettes and compact discs. 

Just then Terry appeared behind the counter, mug of tea in hand, tea stains already dripping down his wide swinging belly. Danny nodded at him. “You look knackered Terry,” he said to his old boss, stepping up to the counter and shaking the man’s hand again. Terry slipped onto his stool. Danny raised his eyebrows at the way his huge body disguised the stool, making it look like he was floating in mid-air.

“This is it,” Terry groaned, “I can’t keep up with it, son. I’m bloody killing meself in here. You’ve come to tell me you can start today, right?”

Danny grimaced. “How about tomorrow?” he asked, thinking again of Lucy, and the pub, and oblivion.  “I’ve got to meet someone now. I can come in first thing tomorrow? You’ll have to show me the ropes though. I’ll be rusty after all these years.”

“You’ll be fine,” Terry persuaded him. “All right, tomorrow morning it is. I can only offer you twenty hours or so at the moment. Money is tight. But we’ll see how things go, right?”

“That’s amazing Terry, thank you,” Danny told him, and reached for his hand again. He shook it firmly, looking squarely into the fat man’s eyes. Another one who tried to help me, he thought, looking at him then, let me hide in his shop, he knew I was in trouble, and he never asked why, he just let me hide. “This means a lot to me, you know Terry. More than you know. I’m gonna’ feel good now, you know, with a  job to come to.”

“Ah, go on with you,” Terry pulled his hand back and waved it at him. “It’s no big deal. I’m getting old and you were always a bloody good worker for me. It makes sense.”

Danny smiled. He reached out again and clapped Terry on the shoulder. He wanted to say more, to thank him more eloquently, more meaningfully, but he knew Terry was not an emotional man, nor a talkative one. Their conversations back then had only ever been about music. Danny still remembered the many times he had crept hesitantly into Terry’s shop, just down the road from Howard’s club.  He had started flicking through vinyl versions of his Nirvana albums.  Before long he had become embroiled in heated discussions with Terry about music.  It had grown from there, he recalled. He would pop in every day. Mostly just to look. To listen to the records the fat man played on the counter. Then he had started to help out, for nothing at first, just to have a place to go, somewhere to hide, and he would get lost in the music, and he would discover new music and old music, and all of it was better than being at home.  “I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he said to Terry, and slunk back out of the shop.

Immediately he remembered Lucy and felt all of the joy drop out of his soul again. Lucy could fuck off.  Okay, that was sorted.  Fuck her.  What she had just said made no sense at all.  To him, if she loved him then she should want to be with him, and stick by him, end of story.  To do anything else was just giving up, just letting him know it was all too much for her.  He thought back to the day he had mentioned to her.  The day he had apparently stood her up at the beach.  The night before he and his friends had discovered Chaos for the first time, the club that played their type of music.  He had been so determined to go, to go and dance and sing and get high and forget it all.  Nothing was going to stand in his way. 

Danny reached the Olde Inne and pushed roughly through the doors.  He made his way to the bar, glaring at anyone who dared look his way, and abruptly ordered a pint of beer and a shot of whiskey from the girl there.  They had drunk whiskey that night too, he thought grimly.  He had endured a scuffle with Howard in the hallway to get out.  He had tried to stop him, but he’d got away, he’d got out, and he’d ran through the night to Michael and Anthony’s house, bloody faced and euphoric.  The night had been amazing.  Danny sat grimly in the corner with his two drinks, and his dog, and lit up a cigarette. 

He thought about Chaos now.  Just around the corner, only minutes from the bed-sit they had ended up running to.  How it had been good song after good song, and he had taken Michael into the toilet with him to take speed again.  They had been so high, so happy, so untouchable.  But like all things, it went to shit in the morning.  He’d woken up late and run to the beach to meet Lucy, his body a horrible mess from Howards’ abuse, and a night of drinking and speeding.  She hadn’t been there.  So he’d kept running, on to her big house on Cedar View.  Her big house and her concerned old man, looking down at Danny like he was a piece of shit on his shoe.  She’d given up then, he thought viciously, she’d walked away, turned her back because he was too much trouble, too much hard work, and she was doing it again now.

He recalled Anthony, collaring him on the way back through the estate,  furious with him for giving Michael speed.  Another face, another pair of eyes judging him, looking down on him so he’d run to the park and felt like there was no point in anything.  He’d sat on the bench and felt like the wind could just blow him away.  He rolled up his sleeve now, looking for the scar.  He still had it.  He’d sat on that bench in a cloud of self-loathing, and he’d taken his own knife and slashed his own arm, and that had felt good, that had made him relax.  And then what had he done?  He thought back, frowning deeply over the rim of his pint glass. Oh yeah.  He’d wandered over to Freeman’s place hadn’t he?  Because Jack Freeman wouldn’t judge him or look down at him, or get mad at him.  And sure enough, Jack Freeman had plenty of stuff over there to chill him out.  Plenty of stuff to make him not give a shit about anything.

His phone went off then, and he cursed under his breath, dragging it out.  It was Caroline Haskell.  What time and where? Danny lowered his pint, thought for a moment, and then typed in his reply; In the Olde Inne, Belfield Park high street.  I’m there now.  A few moments later she replied; on my way.  Danny sat back, picked up his whiskey and downed it in one.  He sat and glared at the table, lost in a dream.  He felt helplessly entangled in the past, as there it was, all the fucking time, ruining things and coming back to haunt him.  He had known coming out of prison would not be easy, he had known it would take time and adjustment.  But he had never expected this.  His mere presence was yet again wrecking the lives of the people he cared about.  Just as it had done back then.  He thought then, for the first time, about moving on.  Starting anew.  The thought appealed to him in a way it never had before.

Caroline Haskell arrived just five minutes later, which took him by surprise.  But nevertheless, he was relieved to see her.  She nodded to him, went to the bar, and then came over with two whiskey and cokes, shoving one across the table at him.  She dumped her large bag to the floor, flicked back her glossy hair and sat down opposite him.  “Hi,” she said then, exhaling breath, stretching her arms out and yawning widely.  “I was close by anyway.  Good to see you.” She winced at his face. “What happened to you?”

“We were set upon,” he replied with a sigh.  “In here, yesterday.  Three men.”

“Oh God.  Why?  What for?”

“Well I might be able to find out now.  If you’ve got that information for me.  Thanks,” he said then, picking up the drink she had bought and tipping her a wink.  “Cheers.”

“So what are you doing in here at this time?” Caroline asked, folding her arms on top of the table, and shaking her hair back again.  Danny looked her over quickly, before downing the second whiskey in one again.  She was wearing her denim jacket again, this time over a tunic and leggings combination.  He thought briefly and painfully about Lucy, alone on the beach, and then he smiled at Caroline.

“Feeling sorry for myself,” he told her.  She cocked her head to one side and her bottom lip jutted out, making an ah poor you face.  “Normally I try not to do that.  But today I’m making an exception.”

“Really?  Why’s that?”

“My girlfriend just dumped me,” he looked at her, lifting and dropping his shoulders wearily.  He sighed, and pushed one hand back through his hair. Caroline was frowning at him in sympathy.

“Oh no!  I’m so sorry Daniel.  Why?”

“Call me Danny,” he said, and shrugged again.  “That’s the thing.  I don’t really know why.  Maybe because I’m me and everything I touch turns to shit?” he raised his eyebrows at her expectantly, and she laughed and picked up her own drink.

“Oh I’m happy to take the risk,” she said, taking one sip, before leaning down and dragging a thick bound notebook from her bag.  “Anything I can help with?  Being a woman, I mean?”

“Nah,” he shook his head quickly.  “Forget it.  It’s boring.  So what have you got for me?  You didn’t take long.”

“Told you, it’s my job,” she replied brightly, folding her arms on top of the notebook, while he frowned at it curiously.  “But we had a deal remember?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Your interview,” she reminded him, with a coy roll of her eyes. “I’m not sure I want to give you this information, then have you cancel on me.”

Danny leaned back in his chair again, slipped one arm around Kurt, who was sat next to him, and drank slowly and thoughtfully from his pint.  Finally he lowered it and narrowed his eyes at Caroline.  “You think if you give me the information I won’t give you an interview?”  She grinned in reply and nodded. “Okay, but how do I know this information is correct?  I need to check it out first.”

“Three addresses,” she told him. “Dennis Howard, Jerry Howard and Jack Freeman.  All three men are alive and well.  Thought that was what you wanted?”

“It is, but how do I know that’s where they really live?” Danny decided to play her at her own game.  “How do I know I won’t give you your interview, then go to find them and find it’s all crap?  Made up?”

“Because that would be wrong, and I don’t operate like that, plus you could complain about me and I could lose my job!” Caroline Haskell looked at him triumphantly, but Danny was not convinced. Trust no one, he thought, looking back at her intently, while a grin pulled at his lips.  He drank more beer while she thought it over.  Finally she took another sip of her own whiskey, and looked at him shrewdly. “So we both find ourselves not trusting each other?” she questioned. “This is interesting.  And probably a sad indictment of our faith in other people!  I like you Danny.  You remind me of me.”

“Brilliant,” he shrugged carelessly. “So what do we do?”

“Okay, looks like we will have to do this bit by bit.”

“You’ve lost me.”

“You answer some of my questions,” she tapped the book under her arms. “Then you get one address to check out.  If it’s correct, you come back to me and answer more questions.  And so on.  Obviously the interview will be taped.  In stages.”

“Hmm,” Danny picked up his pint and drank it down to the end.  He put the empty glass on the table and crossed his arms over his chest.  “We’d end up seeing quite a bit of each other that way.”  He didn’t know why he said that, but he did like the way a bit of colour crept into her cheeks as she smiled back at him.  She did the hair toss again, even though she didn’t need to.  There was no denying the warmth in her voice, as she looked him quickly up and down again.

“Well that wouldn’t be such a bad thing, would it?”

Danny shrugged, giving nothing away. “And we’d both get what we want.”

“Looks like it.”

“Okay then,” he said before he could think about it too long and change his mind.  He reached across the table and patted the book.  “Fire away.”

“What, now?” Caroline frowned at him, and then at the pub around them.  “Here?”

“Why not?” Danny asked.  “We’re both comfy aren’t we?  No one is listening.  You got your tape recorder thing on you?”

“Of course I do.”  She looked excited now, he thought, watching as she dug back into her bag and pulled out a neat black recording device.  She placed it on the table and pressed a few buttons, before flipping her notebook open.  Danny tried to peer at the writing she had scrawled across the pages, but she moved her hand to cover it.  “Okay then.  We can get started.  How many questions do you think is worth one address?”

Danny sighed.  “I suppose it depends on the questions.”

She looked at him quizzically. “Five?”

“Okay.  What the hell.”

She looked like she could not believe her luck, he mused then, feeling a faint stirring of disgust, as she got to work, sucking on the end of her pen as she looked through her notes, and checked the tape recorder again.  She seemed suddenly businesslike and hungry, like she had seemed on the other occasions he had met her.  He sat back and waited, wondering what he was letting himself in for.

Caroline Haskell flicked back her hair and fixed him with a steely gaze. “How old were you when you first met Lee Howard?”

Easy, Danny thought then, in amusement, that’s one question you silly bitch.

“Thirteen,” he told her.  “I was thirteen.”

“How would you describe yourself at age thirteen?”

“What the fuck?”

“That’s the next question Danny,” Caroline had reached out and pressed pause on the recorder.  She eyed him suspiciously.  “You said five.  That’s the next one.”

“But what does that mean?  How am I supposed to answer that?  Why do you want to know that?” He glanced at the bar then, thinking of another drink, and she caught his gaze drifting and got up suddenly. 

“You want another pint?  Or another whiskey? Maybe it will help loosen your tongue.  If not, we’re in for a very long day!”

Danny sucked his breath in, trying to think things over.  He didn’t trust her.  He didn’t trust her an inch.  Suddenly this all felt wrong, wrong and intrusive, and he panicked slightly, thinking if that was the second question, what the hell would the third one be?  Where was this leading, and what else would she demand to know?  Without waiting for him to reply, Caroline walked briskly to the bar, taking her notebook with her.  For a brief, confused moment, Danny thought about getting up and walking out.  Finding Lucy on the beach and begging her to reconsider. 

But then she came back with another pint and another whiskey, and he felt himself weaken, and he realised how regrettably weak he really was, as he picked the whiskey up hungrily and downed it.  She sat herself back down, her brow furrowed with thought and concentration.  “You want these addresses, don’t you?” she reminded him, while her finger paused above the button on the recorder. “You want to see these men and sort things out don’t you?  Or have you changed your mind?”

Danny thought about Anthony then.  His head bandaged, his life in ruins, as he ran off to try and talk his wife around again.  He sighed, held his pint in one hand, and thought of it as a friend that would get him through this, whatever this was.  He nodded at her and she pressed play.  “How would you describe yourself at age thirteen?”

“I was a little shit,” he told her, his eyes on the table, his tone dull. “If you want to know the truth.  I was smoking, I was drinking regularly with my friends.  I started smoking pot just before I turned fourteen.  At thirteen I had been arrested twice, for fighting other boys at school.  I was a little bastard most of the time, especially to my mother.  I did what I wanted to do.  Is that enough?”

Caroline nodded, unsmiling.  “How would you describe your relationship with Lee Howard in the early days?”

Danny swallowed.  His throat was dry, so he took a few guilty gulps of beer before answering.  “Um…it was not good.  I didn’t like my mother seeing him.  I had a big problem with all of her boyfriends, if you want to know the truth.  They were usually dickheads and tossers, one way or another.  I didn’t think he’d be any different and I was right.”

“In what way were you right?”

“Is that number four?”

“Um, no, I was just trying to get you to explain.”

“Oh okay.  Well he was very full of himself.  He part-owned Nancy’s nightclub and thought he was the bees knees.  He was one of those people who talks over other people, you know, interrupts all the time?  Always thinking they’ve got something better to say?  I couldn’t stand him.”  Danny rolled his eyes, faking boredom, drank some more beer and carried on.  “I thought he was arrogant and rude and bossy, all those things.  The second time I met him he tried to intimidate me.”

“How?”  Caroline Haskell was staring at him, as if transfixed by what he was saying.  He wondered distastefully how long she had waited to hear all this shit.

“He just squeezed my neck in the kitchen, after our meal, when we were washing up.  Nothing heavy, but it was a warning.  He told me nothing I could do would scare him away from my mother.”

“What did he mean by that?”

“What number question is that?”

“It’s still number three Danny, I’m just trying to get you to explain what you mean.”

“Who is seriously going to want to read all this shit?” he exclaimed then, shaking his head at her.  She looked annoyed and pressed pause again.

“What’s the problem?”

“This, this is shit.  This is boring shit.  You’re wasting your time.  No one is going to care.”

“Danny I probably won’t use everything you say,” she tried to explain, “it doesn’t work like that.  I just need as much information as possible to put the story together, so it’s all true.  I’ll let you read the article when it’s put together properly, I promise you.  You’ll be able to have say on what goes in.”

Danny drank from his pint.  He felt pretty drunk now and wondered if it was obvious to her.  He shrugged at her carelessly. “Okay whatever.  Go on then.”  She smiled gratefully and pressed play again. “Me and my friends,” he told her. “We played tricks on my mums boyfriend, the one she had before Howard.  To get rid of him.  Just stupid kid stuff, so we did the same to Lee.  Except mum had warned him about it, so he knew what to expect.  We still had a go though.  Laxatives in his beer one day.  That kind of thing.”

“So the relationship was not good, even back then?”

“No,” he said, sounding bored.  “It was not good.  It was never good.  Question number four now surely?”

“Yes.  You claimed at your trial that Lee Howard physically abused you behind your mother’s back.  Can you tell me when this first began?”

“Jesus,” Danny groaned, covering his eyes with one hand and shaking his head into it.  “Okay.  I think…there was that in the kitchen, and then a few weeks later she let him move in. I tried to kick up a fuss but no one cared.  My brother left for University around that time.” He closed his eyes, screwing them up tightly under his hand, trying to remember.  “I think…I’m not sure, but I think it was this time I was in the kitchen at night, and I was getting myself something to eat, because I’d been like sulking or whatever, refusing to eat meals with them.  He came in from the club and went a bit mad about it, saying it was his food, that kind of thing.  Oh yeah, I know, I remember.  I said fuck you, which was pretty brave of me really, because he was built like a fucking gorilla!” Danny dropped his hand and found himself laughing slightly, as Caroline Haskell watched him, pen poised above her notebook.  He knew he was drunk then.  Finding that memory funny.  “He grabbed me by the neck and sort of slammed me down on the kitchen table.  Okay?  That was it. So it was a few weeks after I met him, when I was still thirteen. Then a few weeks later he roughed me up after I got arrested.”

“Arrested for what?”

“Fighting at the beach.  He picked me up.  Got physical.  Told me not to tell my mum and he’d keep the arrest quiet for me.” Danny shrugged.  “And from there it continued.  He started having lots of fun.  Let’s put it that way.”

“Okay.” Caroline nodded and glanced at her book.  “Why didn’t you tell your mum about this at the time?”

“Ah I wondered when we would get to this,” he laughed again. “I did try actually, once.  She didn’t believe me, and to be honest she had good reason to expect me to lie.  I didn’t bother again after that, because I was embarrassed.  I felt like a dick.  I was scared.  Take your pick!” he was counting out on his fingers.  “Because he told me she wanted to put me in care, because I was too much trouble, and if I went to care worse things would happen to me, and he could convince her to do that any time he wanted.  Because I didn’t want anyone to know, if you can believe that.  My friends, and everyone at school, they all thought I was this bad boy, you know?  Tough and cool, all that shit, and I loved it at that age, didn’t I? Having that reputation.  Wouldn’t have been cool if they knew what went on at home.  Like him playing tricks on me, making me think I was nuts.”

“How do you mean?”

“Salt on my toothbrush.  Hiding my stuff.  Messing with my mind. He was getting his own back.  That’s the last question right?

Caroline looked down at her book, lips screwed tightly together, forehead wrinkled.  “Um, well..”

“That was five questions Caroline,” he said, in a teasing, sing-song voice, leaning towards her.  “Turn your tape recorder off now please!”

“Okay, okay,” she pressed a button and dropped the recorder back into her bag.  She closed the notebook, but not before tearing out a page at the back.  She folded this into two, and pushed it across the table.  “A deal is a deal.  That’s your first address.”

Danny lifted his eyebrows, picked it up and unfolded it.  He looked at what was written down and thought for a moment.  He thought it sounded fairly local.  Somewhere he had heard of.  The name on the paper was Dennis Howard.  He nodded, folded it and shoved it into his pocket.  Caroline was watching him carefully, her arms crossed on the table.  “Thank you,” he told her.

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“The police have probably already spoken to him.”

“Probably,” he shrugged and picked up his drink.  “So how did I do anyway?  Get everything you wanted so far?  Juicy enough for you?  Leave you thirsty for more?”  He found himself laughing, but was not really sure why.  He watched a slow grin lighten her face.

“I have to be honest with you Danny,” she said, and drank the rest of her whiskey in one.  “Your story has fascinated me from the beginning.  I was one of the first on the scene that morning, in Redchurch.  I’ve always found it an intriguing tale.”

“Really?” he snorted.  “Even eight years later?  There must be loads of other stories more fascinating than this.”

“Not to me,” she shook her head, and got up from the table.  “I think I’ll have another drink, would you join me?”  Danny nodded.  He thought about offering to pay, but she was already at the bar.  He looked at the back of her.  She had slipped off her jacket, and he could see the neat, trim shape of her now.  She looked like she was one of those women who took good care of herself.  Her bottom, he mused then, was particularly pert and well structured.  Danny was jerked away from his thoughts by his phone going off.  It was a message from Michael; Lucy just phoned me-u ok?  Danny pulled out his cigarettes and lit one up, as he typed back; dumped, getting pissed now.  Caroline came back to the table, this time with a bottle of red wine and two glasses.  Danny looked at them in amusement.  His phone buzzed again; where? Who with? I’ll come. 

“Looks expensive,” Danny nodded at the wine, as he keyed in another answer for Michael; with Haskell, don’t come I’m fine.got an address. Be home soon.  He thought that ought to keep Michael satisfied for a while, and he was right.  His phone fell silent.  Caroline poured the wine.

“I’m a wine drinker most of the time,” she shrugged. “Don’t think I could stomach another whiskey.  Did you know I reported on your story at the time?”

“Mike said.  I kept all the newspapers actually, but I never looked at the reporters names.”

“Why did you keep them?”

He shrugged.  “Don’t know.  Just did.  So eight years later you still want to know about it?  Seems weird to me.  You would have moved on.”

“It was one of those cases that shocked the nation, Danny,” she looked at him rather sombrely, her fingers gently caressing the stem of her wine glass. “Maybe you don’t really realise that.”

“You don’t know a lot, in prison.”

“I suppose not.  People were shocked though.  Not just locals either.  Everyone.  I was only twenty-two at the time.  Hadn’t been on the paper very long at all.  I was lucky to be allowed down to the scene.”  She flicked back her hair, and straightened up.  “I was there, you know.  When they brought you out of the house.  You came out first, and then the body a while later.”

Danny did not know what to say.  He drank the wine and felt slightly removed from it all, which was actually quite nice.  His body had that fuzzy warm feeling flowing through it.  He felt tired and sleepy, and strangely at ease, now that the tape recorder had been put away.  “Can’t believe you saw all that,” he said to her.  “Weird.”

“It was fascinating,” she went on.  “It really was.  For a fresh faced reporter like me.  There was this skinny little kid coming out in handcuffs, covered in blood, and grinning.  That was the oddest thing Danny.  You were just grinning.”

“Was I?”

“Yes!  And your friends, Michael and Anthony, and Lucy, is it?  They were all there too, being held back by the police.  They were shouting, trying to get your attention.  I was overwhelmed really,” she shrugged at him and sighed.  “I wanted to know there and then, what the hell had gone on in that house, who you were and why you had killed someone, and why you were smiling about it! I had so many questions.  And frustratingly I never really got that many answers.”

“You were at the trial?” he asked her.  She nodded quickly.

“As much as we were allowed.  It didn’t really answer my questions though.  I mean, it did, and there were a lot of people vouching for you, a lot of people speaking on your behalf, but nothing from you.  I still didn’t know why.”

“Why?” Danny asked her.  “Why what?  Why did I kill him?”

“I suppose so.  Why, everything.  You must ask yourself the same questions Danny.”

He shrugged again.  “It’s not that hard to figure out why,” he said, and he watched that hungry look return to her green eyes again.  He saw them flick towards her bag, and he wondered how much she would love to get that recorder back out and hit play again.  But it was too late.  She had used up her questions, and he had the first address.  “There have been lots of cases over the years, of abused wives finally snapping and killing their husbands.  Same thing.  Someone pushes you that far, someone makes you feel there is no choice.  Well I had a choice I guess.  Me or him.  My life or his.”  He drank more wine, slowly, watching her face over the rim of the glass.  He could see her eyes searching his, he could feel the energy of her thirst and her desire.  He waited for what she would ask next.

“Do you ever regret it?” she asked finally.  “Do you ever wish you hadn’t killed him?”

Danny smiled at her.  He reached out then, sliding his hand across the table and laying it gently over hers.  She sucked in her breath, surprised at his touch.  “I don’t ever regret it,” he whispered to her.  “I don’t ever regret wiping that monster from this world.  It was the best day of my life.”  He saw her controlling herself, stiffening slightly in her chair.  His smile grew wider.  He patted her hand and wondered if she would pull away, if she would recoil.  But suddenly she turned her hand up the other way and laced her fingers through his.

“We could take this wine back to my house,” she hissed, her head low, her hair skimming the table.  Danny grinned recklessly.

“Why the hell not?”

 

He realised how drunk he was when the cold November air hit him, as they stumbled from the pub.  Caroline hailed a taxi and they bundled in, giggling.  Danny did not pay much attention to where they were headed, but it seemed a fairly short journey.  The next thing he knew, she was fumbling with her keys, and they then they were in the hallway of her house.  She nodded through to a large open plan living space, and kicked off her boots.  He wandered slowly through, his head spinning, his mind a mess of anxieties, guilt and excitement.  He did not have any time to focus on any of them.  He felt her arms snake around his middle from behind, and when he turned around, she pulled his jacket from him and dropped it to the floor.  He felt himself guided back towards a lush leather sofa, and watched, wide eyed and silent, as she came towards him, peeling off her dress. “I really should not be doing this,” she said, with a giggle, before pushing him down and climbing on top. 

 

When it was over, he thought two things almost simultaneously, as Caroline rolled herself in a throw from the sofa and padded into the kitchen.  He thought viciously about sending Lucy a text, telling her what he had just done, and with whom.  And he thought, what the hell have you just done, what have you done?  The alcohol was wearing off slowly.  His head was throbbing, and so were his balls.  He pulled his jeans back on while Caroline was busying herself in the kitchen.  It looked like she was making coffee.  He found his last cigarette and looked up at her. “Do you mind if I…?”  Caroline smiled at him indulgently.

“Course not.  Go for it.  Coffee?”

“Yeah, that would be great.”  He fell silent then, at a complete loss for words.  What could he say?  Why had he done it?  He leant back on the sofa, smoking.  Caroline padded back over with two mugs of coffee, and handed one to him.  He saw her eyes take him in then, the scars and the marks on his naked chest.  He felt sickened again, and put the coffee down to reach for his t-shirt.

“Please don’t tell my boss,” Caroline said, slipping into the space beside him, and making very little effort to cover herself with the throw.  He glanced at her, and pulled his top over his head.

“I won’t.”

She drank her coffee, watching him.  “You okay?”

“Yeah.  Course.  Just kind of shocked that we did that.  I mean, we don’t even know each other.” He smiled slightly, puffed smoke across the room, and looked away from her.  He looked at the door, and hoped she didn’t notice.  She wriggled closer then, her hair loose and soft upon her bare shoulders.  He felt her fingers stroking the back of his neck, and he flinched, it was a knee jerk reaction, but she pulled away, looking intrigued rather than hurt.

“Sorry.  Didn’t mean to make you jump.”

“It’s okay.  Sorry.”  He thought about telling her how Howard had always grabbed him by the neck, held him down by the neck, as if that was the easiest way to control the rest of the body, and he supposed it was.  And sometimes he had stroked his neck too, very slowly and deliberately, teasing out the tension, preparing to strike harder.  Danny shook himself and picked his coffee back up, glancing again at the door without meaning to.  This time, Caroline did notice.

“Keen to get out of here, eh?” she said, with a knowing smile.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking down.  “Don’t take it personally.  I was drunk.  I mean, I still am.  We shouldn’t have done that, should we?  I mean, it seems a bit wrong.”

“Well I suppose,” she shrugged carelessly and settled back in the sofa, her coffee in both hands. “But then it’s not like I’m your boss, or you’re mine, or anything.  I’m not the police either.  There’s really no reason why we shouldn’t.  You said you were single, and I certainly am.”

“How did it feel then?” he thought he may as well ask her.  Their eyes met, and he found hers dazzling with excitement.  “Sleeping with a killer?”

“It felt great,” she laughed in reply, shaking back her hair.  “You were great.”

“That wasn’t why I was asking.  You just seemed so obsessed with all of this.  I don’t get why.  I’m nothing special.”

“Well I’ll be the judge of that,” she purred, moving closer again, this time dropping her hand very gently onto his forearm.  “When are you going to visit Dennis Howard?  I’m already looking forward to the next stage of our interview.”

Danny got up then.  He put his cup down on the polished floorboards and grabbed his jacket from the floor.  He couldn’t stand it, he had to get out, get away from her.  He wondered why it suddenly felt like he had sold his soul to the devil. 

“Sorry,” he muttered at her, not meeting her eyes as she watched him pull on his jacket and head for the door, cigarette still in hand.  “My head’s a mess.  I’ve got to go.”

He found his way outside, looked around and realised he had no idea where the fuck he was.

 

23

Anthony

 

            Danny walked in twenty minutes later.  Warmed and invigorated by two pints of beer, plus the cans he had already shared with Michael, Anthony felt like he had never been so glad to see anyone in his whole life.  Looking at Michael’s face was enough to convince him he felt the same.  He cheered and whooped and held up his pint glass as Danny sauntered on in.  They both watched him shrug off his coat, throw it down and search for his wallet.  He looked alive, Anthony thought then, his eyes were glowing.  “Where you been?” Michael asked instantly, and in his drunken haze Anthony felt so warmed by the tone of his voice, by the worry and the care in it.  It had always surprised and touched him, the friendship these two had.  Danny shook his head and raised his eyebrows.

“Let me get drinks first then I’ll tell you,” he said, heading to the bar.  “It will blow your minds.”

“See who’s at the bar mate!” Michael called out to him, and as Danny looked back at him frowning, Michael smiled and nodded at a large figure sat up on one of the bar stools.  Danny approached from behind slowly, wonderingly. Anthony grinned at Michael, who grinned back.

“Terry?”

The man shifted, moving around to reveal the huge gut that hung down, almost covering his knees, like an apron of t-shirt clad flesh. He was almost bald these days, and his full face wore a permanent sheen of sweat.  But he stuck his hand out at Danny, and the smile that filled his face made his old eyes shine with delight. “I’ve been hoping to run into you!” he exclaimed, and as Danny took his hand, the fat man pulled him in and clapped him on the back. “C’mere you little bastard!”

“Come and join us,” Anthony said then, getting up and gesturing for Terry to take his seat. He nodded at Danny. “I’ll get your drink mate. Sit down.”

“Terry,” Danny said again, still pumping hands with him as they both joined Michael at the table.  “Terry!”

“Yeah, that’s still my name, that’s still my name!”

Anthony ordered another round of drinks and joined them.  He laughed out loud at the look of wonder on Danny’s face. “How are you? Jesus Terry! It’s good to see you! They said you’ve still got a shop?”

“Down the road, that’s right,” Terry nodded at him. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“You still think The Smiths are the best band in the world?” Danny was smiling uncontrollably, his top teeth biting down on his lower lip, pulling it in, as the smile stretched up to his ears.  Anthony sat back and watched, a warm rush of satisfaction filling him up, as he started a fresh beer.

“Nothing can touch them!” Terry barked back explosively. “I’m sorry, I said it then and I’ll say it now, as far as lyrical content, melody and fucking balls mate, nothing can touch them and never fucking will! What the hell are you into these days anyway?”

“I’ve been out of the loop,” Danny said with a sigh, still smiling. “I’m liking Neil Young, Bob Dylan, stuff like that. Need to find something new though, need to get back into it all. I miss it.  I miss your shop mate! Going through all the records, discovering stuff. Your shop was like a fucking treasure chest, wasn’t it?”

“Look I can’t stick around long mate,” Terry said then, and he quickly swallowed the last mouthfuls of beer in his glass. “Meeting the lads for a curry. But you come and stick your head round my door right? I might have a proposition for you. Work wise, I mean.”

Anthony watched Danny’s eyes grow even wider. “Really?” he breathed, and to Anthony then, he looked just like a fresh faced kid again.  And he remembered he had always looked like that where music was involved. Lost and amazed and happy.  He wanted to hug Terry then.  He had got up from the table, his large belly knocking into it as he rose, sloshing beer from the pints.

“I’m getting old, aren’t I?” he chuckled. “Can’t keep up with all the new stuff, for one thing. Still like me vinyl, and it’s all about keeping up with the times now, thanks to this bloody Internet thing. I can’t do the hours mate. They do me in, but the shop’s going downhill.” He slid his hands into his pockets and shook his head grimly. “Think I need some fresh young blood in, you know? Come and see me.  Come and stick your head round and we’ll have a cuppa and a chat, right?”

Danny stood up and shook hands with him again.  He patted him on the back, and his eyes were burning with joy. “I will Terry. I’ll come tomorrow.  I will. Thanks Terry. You’re a legend.”

Terry waved a podgy hand dismissively and started to stagger away. “See you tomorrow then.”

“Bloody unbelievable,” Danny announced, sitting back down.  He just stared at them both, shaking his head, grinning like an idiot. “He can’t be serious can he?”

“Sounded like a job offer to me mate,” Michael replied. “What a cool guy.”

“Yeah, he always was.”

“So come on, spill,” Anthony said then, sitting forward. “Where were you? What’s gonna’ blow our minds?”

Danny nodded and gratefully accepted a cigarette from Michael.  “Went to the old bastard’s grave again,” he told his friends. Anthony looked at him, stunned.  Michael’s jaw had dropped. “Guess who came along?”  Danny lit his cigarette, smiled at them and puffed smoke across the table.  “His old man,” he told them finally, and his smile stretched as far as it could go.  Anthony did not understand how he could smile at all.  To him, it seemed horrendous.  But here was Danny smiling, and his shoulders shaking.  “Had quite the chat,” he went on, as they stared at him. “It’s him all right.  The old fucker.  It’s him doing all this shit.”

“You all right?” Michael asked, and Anthony looked at him, saw how clouded his face was.  Danny shrugged and drank his beer.  Michael looked at Anthony. “Jesus Christ.”

“You’re okay though?” Anthony felt the need to persist.  There was that fatherly role again, he thought wearily, the role he just could not seem to shake off.

“What did he say?” asked Michael.

“Doesn’t really matter,” Danny said easily. “Just what we thought anyway.  He hates me.  He thinks the sun shone out of Lee’s fucking arse.  He wants revenge.  Whatever.”

“He admitted it?” Anthony asked.  Danny shook his head.

“Oh no.  No, he played the innocent alright.  But it’s him.  It has to be.  Ah I don’t even give a shit now that I’ve seen him!” Danny drank more beer, wiped his mouth and grinned recklessly at them.  “Fuck it!” he exclaimed loudly.  “I feel good!  I faced my demons!  I walked away all intact.  I don’t fucking care anymore.  He can do what he wants.  The police will catch up with him sooner or later, so fuck it.”  Danny picked his pint up again and drank hungrily.  Anthony drank his own, and felt the warning bells of drunkenness ringing carelessly. “And the fat man just offered me a job no less, so I’m feeling pretty good!”

“You’re a fucking legend,” Anthony told Danny then, pointing at him.  “You’re a brave man.  That little bastard.  I wish I’d seen him!”

“You think the cops will speak to him now?” Michael asked.  “And what about the other two?  Do you think it is just him?”

“Oh yeah that’s the other thing I was doing this morning,” Danny said, and took a large gulp of his beer before explaining more.  “That Haskell woman collared me again, outside Lucy’s.  Offered to buy me a drink, said she could help me, so I thought what the hell, and went with her.” Anthony and Michael swapped curious glances.  “She reckons she can get the addresses of the three main suspects.  She can do a bit of digging around, and all that.  So I made a deal with her.”

Anthony frowned suspiciously. “What kind of deal?”

“If she gets me the information I want, then I’ll give her a bloody interview,” Danny shrugged his shoulders at them both.

“Is that a good idea?” Michael asked. 

“Look I’m not even gonna’ think about that yet,” Danny replied quickly, shaking back his hair, his eyes darkening suddenly. Anthony could see then that he was on the edge.  He was in that state where your mood can come down on either side, and drinking alcohol would maybe help it decide.  “I’ll wait and see what she comes back with first.”

“I thought Lucy was digging?” Anthony remembered.

“Well she can if she wants, but I’d really rather she wasn’t involved, after last night.  You didn’t see the state she was in, guys.  She was shaking like a leaf by the time I got there.”

“Still can’t believe the bastard phoned her up,” Anthony gritted his teeth, angering just at the thought of it.  “And this leads us to question, how exactly is this old man getting around us all so easily?  Spying on Lucy and cutting her power?  Phoning her up?  I wouldn’t fucking know how to do all that!”

“He must have help,” Michael nodded at them both, drank his pint and looked troubled.  “It can’t just be him on his own, that would be impossible.  He’s an old man!”

“He’s pretty fit for an old fellow,” Danny was near the end of his pint already, and Anthony saw him look quickly towards the bar.  “He’s got a stick, but he’s not fragile, you know?  Built like a brick shithouse, just like his shitting arsehole son.”

“Well hopefully he’ll be getting a visit from the police any time soon,” Anthony commented, as Danny drained the last of his beer and got back up, wallet in hand.  Anthony had never seen anyone drink a pint so fast.  “Bloodyhell mate, you might want to slow down!”

“Fuck it,” Danny laughed, waving the wallet at him. “Let’s have these on him, the old dead fucker eh?  Let’s have the next round on Lee fucking Howard!”  He looked at them triumphantly and then stalked up to the bar.  Anthony turned to his brother, and grimaced.

“Oh Christ, he’s gonna’ get slaughtered.”

“Let him,” Michael shrugged. “He probably needs to.”

Anthony groaned, and resting one elbow on the table, he ploughed one hand back through his hair.  “I’m pretty drunk already Mikey.”

“Me too, so what?  It’ll be fun.  Like old times.”

“Old times were not always that fun little brother.”

“Yeah they were.  In a weird way, they were,” Michael smiled at him gently then. “Even when we were shit scared.  We had fun in our own way, didn’t we?  Us and Danny.  We stuck together.”

“Yeah,” Anthony sighed and nodded. “What do you think about that Haskell woman?  I can’t remember if she was on his side or not, you know years back?”

“I don’t know,” shrugged Michael. “Don’t worry about it.  He knows what he’s doing.”

“I know, I know,” Anthony laughed and rolled his eyes at himself. “I’ve got to stop being the dad, or whatever! Stop being a boring old man.”

“Old habits die hard,” Michael grinned at him.  “Forget about it.”

Danny returned with three more pints, plonked them down and then went over to the jukebox.  “The whole of ‘Definitely Maybe’,” he announced striding quickly back and sitting down.  “Haven’t heard it in ages.”

Anthony raised his eyebrows and glanced worriedly back at Michael. “You’re feeling like a trip down memory lane mate?” he asked Danny. Danny shrugged in reply, drinking his second beer.  “Just be careful with that.  That and alcohol.”

“Like I said, fuck it,” Danny told him and Anthony sighed, thinking it was becoming obvious which side he was coming down on.  He glanced at his watch and saw that it was not even lunch time yet.  And then he thought to himself fuck it too, fuck it all, let him, let him get it out his system, let him get wankered, whatever, don’t worry about it.  He remembered his empty house, his wife and kids gone, and sunk the last of his pint, before picking up the next one.  “You know what we’re gonna’ do?” Danny was asking, leaning towards them both, his blue eyes flashing. “We’re gonna’ get fucking paralytic, we’re gonna’ spend that arsehole’s money, feel like shit tomorrow, and what does it even matter?  Who’s gonna’ care?”

“That sounds depressing Dan,” Anthony smiled gently, thinking again of his eerily empty house.

“I mean, let’s make the most of it,” Danny explained. “Let’s go wild.  It’s just us three, yeah? We used to have some wild times, didn’t we?”  Michael and Anthony nodded, and Michael lifted his second pint suddenly and clinked it against the others.

“Cheers to that!” he cried. “That’s what I’ve been saying for ages!”

“Then,” Danny continued, still leaning across the table, pint firmly in hand. “We’ll wait and hear from this Haskell woman, see how good she really is. We’ll have all three addresses, and wherever the fuck they live, we’ll pay them all a visit, yeah?”

“What about the police?” Anthony asked immediately, concern again becoming his overriding emotion. “They won’t want you doing that.”

“I’ll give them a chance,” Danny shrugged carelessly. “But if this shit carries on, what choice do I have?  We’ll go see them all.  Show them we’re not kids anymore.  Show them we’re not taking any shit of anyone, yeah?”

“We’ll be right behind you mate,” Michael was nodding, and clapped Danny sombrely on the shoulder.  Danny looked to Anthony, awaiting the same confirmation.  Anthony scratched his head.

“I’ll come with you, don’t get me wrong, you know that.  You know I will.  But think about it a minute mate, do you really want to see Freeman?  I mean, the old man is one thing, this Dennis character we know nothing about, but Freeman?” Anthony felt his mouth become dry at just the thought of it.  He watched as Danny pulled back from the table, dropping one hand into his lap, and caressing his pint with the other.  He glanced away, not answering for a moment, and then he looked back and smiled sadly at Michael.

“You know what this album reminds me of most?”

“What?” Michael asked him.

“Me and you at Freeman’s flat.  Think that was when I got it, around that time.  You remember the night me and you took speed for the first time?”

Michael nodded, glancing sheepishly at Anthony. “I remember mate.  We must have been fifteen?”

“Yeah.  We mostly had the place to ourselves, didn’t we?  So it was pretty cool.  Just you and me and this album on all the time.”

Michael nodded and his eyes met with Anthony’s again. “Yeah Danny, it was all right for a while.”

“Remember you getting pissed off with me though?” Danny laughed then, but Anthony didn’t like the sound of it at all, and had to look away and drink more beer.  It wasn’t a happy laugh, he thought, it was a hollow, bitter laugh, tinged with despair, and he thought again, is this a good idea, getting plastered? “You couldn’t understand why I was always around there.  It was nice though.” He nodded, staring intently at the table.  “He was nice to me.”

Anthony looked at Michael and shook his head.  “Danny?” he started.  Danny looked up, smiling brightly, but his eyes were far away.

“I know that sounds stupid,” he said. “But it was nice, you know, until what you found out.” He looked at Anthony almost apologetically then.  “Until you told us what he’d done.  What he was.  It was nice going there before that.”

“To get away from Howard, yeah?” Anthony asked softly.  “That’s what you mean.”

“Yeah!” Danny replied enthusiastically, as if he was desperate for them to understand.  “That’s what I mean!  Because he was like all chilled and lazy and shit, and he didn’t care if you messed the place up, or put your feet on the table, or spilled your drink, you know?  It was a nice change in a weird way.  Like, relaxing?  Just getting totally stoned or whatever. I guess I went there because I thought he was being nice to me, when really he wasn’t.”  Danny sighed and shrugged and lifted his pint to his lips.  Anthony noted that he was nearing the end of the second one. 

“So,” Michael started slowly, unsurely, his dark eyes flicking restlessly between Danny and Anthony.  “You think you’ll be all right seeing him again?  If it comes to it?  What the fuck would you say?”

“I don’t know,” Danny shook his head at him.  “The thought of it makes me feel sick if you want to know the truth, but maybe in a weird way, it will be like another bit of closure, you know?” he frowned at them both, and again Anthony got the feeling he was simply desperate to convey what he meant to them, for them to understand. “I mean, like that just seeing Howard’s old man, that was fucking insane, but the first time we ran into him, I was just shit scared and shocked and stuff, and I felt like a kid again, but this time was different.  I had the chance to calm down and figure things out, and I walked away feeling pretty good.  It was a bit like getting the last word, you know? “ He sighed again, rolled his eyes and laughed a little.  “I don’t know.  I don’t know what I mean.”

“I get what you mean,” Michael said quickly, nodding.  “You could get some answers out of Freeman, you know.  After that fight at your house, when you stabbed him, you never fucking saw him again, did you?”

“No,” Danny agreed. “I just had fucking Howard taunting me about what he did or didn’t do….”

“You’ve just got to be careful Danny,” Anthony spoke up then, and he realised he had been telling the guy that for years now.  “Just take it slowly. Let’s have a good time today, like you said, and then lets’ sit and see what the police can do.  I think seeing someone like Freeman could seriously mess with your head if you’re not careful, and open up a can of worms.  I know you reckon seeing the old man just now has done you good, but that’s a kneejerk reaction, yeah?  You might feel differently when it all sinks in.” Anthony felt the two of them staring at him, challenging him somewhat, and again it was an old, familiar feeling.  But he knew when it came down to it, they would both listen to him.  So he nodded firmly at Danny.  “I don’t want you going down that road unless you have to mate.  That’s all.”

Danny smiled at him finally.  “Okay,” he said.  “I’ll be careful.”

“He’ll just be another washed up old man by now anyway,” Michael said then, his tone brightening.  “If he’s even still fucking alive!”

They all laughed at this, and Anthony felt the tension easing slightly.  He hoped against hope that they would not have to visit Jack Freeman, wherever he might be these days.  He hoped that the police would have it all in hand by now, that they would be taking things far more seriously after Lucy’s power was cut.  Anthony got up from the table then, “need a piss,” he muttered and headed for the men’s room.  He heard Michael and Danny laughing amongst each other as he left, and he thought good, that’s better, we should be having a laugh, and he sighed to himself in relief. 

He looked at his phone while he was in the toilet.  He had sent Chrissie a message earlier, asking when they could get together and talk.  He saw now that she had replied and he had not heard it come through.  Tomorrow morning – kids at school, I’ll come to the house.  That was it.  Anthony didn’t know quite how to take it. It was good that she was going to come and talk, but he found the message rather curt and businesslike.  Inside his heart seemed to drop, his stomach took a nosedive, and he wondered again how miserably close he was to losing them all.  A wild panic thundered through him every time he thought about them not coming back.  He would be a weekend dad, like Mike was.  She might meet other men…Oh it didn’t bear thinking about.  He went through his head what he would say to her in the morning.  He guessed he was going to have to lie to her about still helping Danny, lie to her, or tell her the truth and risk that being the end of it all. Great, thanks, love you babe he sent back to her, and came back out from the toilet.

He saw right away that something was wrong. It was not just the three burly men who seemed to have surrounded their table, blocking his view of both Danny and Michael, but it was the tense silence which had filled the pub.  It was not very full, at that time in the morning, but there had been enough conversation and laughter going on for them to disappear amongst.  But everyone had now fallen silent, and all eyes seemed to be on their table.   Anthony approached slowly from behind.  “All right there guys?” he asked, and one of the men, a shaven headed man in his late forties turned abruptly to glare at him.  Anthony quickly sized up the other two.  The shaven headed guy was the biggest, and had a good few inches on Anthony, but the other two were not exactly small, and made Danny and Michael look like weedy teenagers.  One wore a navy blue baseball cap and had no front teeth.  The third man looked like the youngest, late twenties or there abouts, and had greasy black hair pushed back behind his ears and a large hooked nose.  Anthony tried to remember if they were regulars, but he didn’t think he recognised any of them.

He looked at Danny and Michael, who were eyeing the men cautiously from their seats.  Danny cleared his throat.  “These fella’s want to know which one of us is the scumbag who killed their old pal Lee Howard,” he said, his voice slightly strangled, and his eyes dark with warning.  Anthony felt his heart skip, and thought uselessly oh fuck. The guy with the shaven head turned his thick body towards Anthony and jabbed a finger at him.

“You is it?”

“No, that would be me,” Danny spoke up quickly, and all eyes fell on him.  Anthony saw him shrug his shoulders and raise his eyebrows in response as he took them all in.  “The scumbag who killed Lee Howard, I mean.  That would be me.” He smiled at them, and that was when all hell broke loose.  The shaven headed guy nodded quickly, stepped forward and reached for Danny, grabbing him by the front of his jacket and hauling him up.  Anthony dived in instantly, as did Michael, both of them going for the bald guy. “What the fuck?” he yelled, grabbing the guys arm and yanking it back just as he aimed his fist at Danny’s face. 

Anthony felt his feet fly out from under him then, as he was blindsided by the guy in the cap.  He hit the floor, as the whole pub seemed to explode into violence and shouting and bellowing all around them.  He felt chunky fists slamming into his stomach, got his knee up and rammed it into the guys face.  He was on his feet, and saw that Michael was wrestling with the greasy haired fellow, while Danny was doubled over, as the shaven haired guy had just delivered a knee into his belly. Anthony did the first thing that came into his mind.  He picked up the nearest stool and slammed it down over the back of the mans head.  He saw blood erupt almost instantly, and the man dropped Danny and covered the back of his head with both hands, swearing in pain.  Danny straightened up, grabbed the stool from the floor and quickly swung it into the guys’ middle. 

“Come on then, you bunch of fuckers,” Anthony snarled then, as the man in the cap came back at him, fists held up.  “You want some more!”

“Take it outside!  Take it outside!” Tony was yelling from behind the bar.  “I’ve called the cops!”

The baseball cap guy looked briefly his way, and Anthony seized the opportunity to smack him in the nose.  As he stooped down spluttering blood, he struck him again, as hard as he could right in one eye.  “Anthony look out!” Michael cried from across the table, where he was still grappling violently with the greasy haired man.  Anthony did not have time to look out.  He only felt the incredible thump of the bottom of a pint glass striking the top of his head, and then he went down. 

He blinked himself awake just moments later, struggling to regain consciousness, and felt a flurry of kicks make contact with his ribs as he lay on the floor, and then suddenly it was all over, the feet were running, thumping past him, and doors were slamming and swinging, and Tony finally ran around the bar and kneeled down beside him.  Moments later two uniformed police officers appeared.  Anthony closed his eyes, shook his head and just groaned.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

24

Michael

 

           

“It’s all kicking off all right,” Michael chuckled into his phone, from the sofa where he was sprawled out, with one arm slung around his ribs.  He was on the phone to Billy, who had just called him to report a mysterious silent phone call he had received on his land line the day before.  “We’ve just spent most the fucking day down at a and e and the rest of the night down the cop shop.”

“Who the hell were they?” Billy wanted to know.  Michael looked across at Danny, who was laid out on the other sofa with Kurt asleep on his chest, and a cigarette in hand. 

“Minions sent by old man Howard,” Michael told him casually. “Or so we assume, right Dan?” Danny nodded in reply silently.

“You all okay?”

“Well Anthony’s gone to try and make amends with his missis with a fuck off great bandage around his head,” Michael laughed again, just picturing it.  “I can only imagine how well that’s gonna’ go down!  And Danny’s sat here with ten fucking stitches in his forehead.  One of the cunts put a glass in his face too.  Seriously Billy, we’re lucky we didn’t lose any eyes!”

“Sounds horrendous,” Billy replied, his voice tense.  “This is getting seriously scary guys.  What time was all this?”

“About lunch time I think.”

“That’s when I got the silent call.”

“Really?  Well that’s interesting. Right Billy boy, we’ll let you off the fucking hook right?  Just stay away from us until this is all sorted out.”

Michael heard his old friend sigh in relief.  “How are you going to sort it out?” he asked him.

“Don’t worry about it,” Michael said, getting bored now. “Just keep out of it and they should leave you alone.”  He said goodbye and hung up and shook his head in disgust at Danny. “Bloody pansy he is.”

“He can’t help it,” Danny replied.  “I don’t blame him.  Mike, whenever we get these addresses, I don’t want Anthony to come.”

Michael frowned, not understanding. “What the hell do you mean?  He has to come! We’ll get killed without him!”

Danny shook his head firmly.  “I’m not going to be responsible for wrecking his life Mike.  He’s already in enough shit with his wife.  Me and you go.  And we don’t tell him.  In fact, we don’t tell him anything anymore, okay?”

Michael sat up and sat forward.  His bruised ribs groaned in complaint and he winced.  “Danny, don’t be stupid mate.  We need him.  We can’t do this without him.”

“Yes, we can, course we can,” Danny said quickly.  “We have to Mike.  Look, other people keep getting hurt, and it’s not fair.  How will you feel if Jenny and Zach get a brick through their window, or their power cut off?”  He was staring angrily back at Michael, daring him to disagree. “How will you feel if those heavies pay them a visit next?  Mike, this is getting worse.  Those guys were from Essex, from Lee’s old days.  They were his mates from his dad’s gym. So we know why they were called here, and we know they can do it again.  Any fucking time.”

Michael stared at him silently.  He did not know what to say.  Danny was right.  This thing was getting worse by the day.  The police had no leads on the men who had attacked them.  They had seemingly ran out into the streets and vanished  into thin air.  The police reported that they had located Jerry Howard, although they refused to pass on his whereabouts, and they concluded that they had no evidence to charge him with anything as of yet.  They were sitting ducks basically, or at least that was how it felt. 

Danny leaned out from the sofa to tap his cigarette into the ashtray on the small table.  He looked at Michael, waiting for him to agree.  “I mean it Mike,” he said then. “Just keep it all low key now okay?  Whatever happens to us, we don’t tell Anthony.”

“I don’t like lying to him,” Michael said uselessly.

“It’s for his own good,” Danny argued.  “Look at the fucking state of him Mike! His window is smashed, that could have hurt his kids, so his wife walks out with them, and then he’s fucking knocked unconscious in the pub!  He had a nice life, a decent life, and now it’s all in ruins.  I mean it Mike.” Danny looked at him nodding seriously. “We need to keep him out of it.  You too if you want.  You’ve got Zach to think of.”

“Don’t be fucking stupid!” Michael argued again, snatching his own cigarettes from the table and lighting one up.  “You’re not going to see those arseholes on your own.  You can forget that!”

“Why not?” Danny shrugged, and Michael just stared at him, wide eyed in disbelief.  “What can they do that hasn’t already been done Mike?  Think about it.  They’re three old men now.  I’m a big boy.  I need to get their attention just on me, not on you lot.”

“You’re fucking crazy,” Michael shook his head in dismay. “And I’m not letting you do any of it on your own.  I don’t care what you say.”

“Even if it puts your son in danger?”

Michael opened his mouth.  Nothing came out.  He closed it again, and looked down at the grubby carpet beneath his feet. “Nothing has come their way yet,” he said, his voice small.

“Yet,” Danny said.

“Well if it does…”Michael trailed off.  “Look,” he said then, shaking his head and pushing it all aside.  “Look, we’ll worry about that if it happens.  You need to call that Haskell woman.  She should have something by now surely.”

Danny nodded.  “Lucy is coming over later.  Don’t mention that woman in front of her.  I’m gonna’ tell Lucy to stop looking too.  I don’t want her or Anthony involved in any way from now on.”

“She’s not gonna’ like that Dan.”

“She’s gonna’ have to.  Yesterday changed everything.  One minute I’m in the fucking graveyard having it out with the old man, the next minute he’s managed to set three fucking gorillas on us out of nowhere.  I don’t know how the fuck he’s doing it, or what he might do next.”

“What about your mum?  Heard anything from her?”

“Nothing,” Danny shook his head.  “I’m keeping my distance.  I’m going to keep my distance from everyone.”

Michael had to get up then.  He just couldn’t stand it.  He paced around the room, puffing on his cigarette in frustration.  “Yeah, but this is just what they fucking want, isn’t it?” He nodded to himself, feeling vicious stabs of anger course through him. “Can’t you see that mate?  It’s just like back then.  You, all alone.  The way Howard got rid of Anthony.  The way he and Freeman kept you doped up all the time, so you didn’t go to school, you didn’t mix with your mates.  This is the same! He’s doing it on fucking purpose!  Trying to scare off all the people who care about you.  I can’t stand it.  I’m about ready to fucking burst, I tell you.  They’re not scaring me off.  I don’t give a shit.  I’m coming with you.” He stopped next to the sofa and stared down at Danny’s upturned face.  “Whenever you get those fucking addresses, I am coming with you.  I want to hurt them Dan. I want the chance to settle a few old scores.  I would like to see them hurt and scared and alone!”

Danny stubbed out his cigarette and folded his arms behind his head.  Michael just shook his head again.  He had no idea how his friend could appear so calm and controlled, when he felt like smashing something up, anything.  He felt like they were rats in a trap, waiting to be extinguished.  He felt like they were just hanging around, killing time until the next shot was taken.  “We need to fight back!” he exclaimed passionately.  Danny just smiled and closed his eyes.

“We’ll get our chance,” he said softly. “Just need to be patient Mike.”

Michael found himself stood at the window, smoking.  He breathed in and out slowly, willing himself to calm down.  He stared down at the busy high street, watching the market traders directly below, as they bellowed out, advertising their goods.  He wondered again, if they were being watched, and by who, and from where?  He ran his eyes along the opposite row of shops, and the flats above them.  Some were occupied, some were empty.  He narrowed his eyes, wondering.

“You ever see your parents anymore Mike?” Danny asked suddenly from behind him.  Michael was surprised by the question.

“No,” he said. “Not my old man anyway.”

“You see your mum?”  Danny sat up a bit on the sofa, staring over the back of it at Michael.

“Just at Christmas,” he shrugged.  “She lives with my Aunt Tina now.  They’re both alone so they moved in together.”

“You see her at Christmas?  How does that go?”

“It’s okay,” Michael shrugged again. “She’s not so bad these days.  She was always better without my dad anyway.  She still likes a drink you know.  But so do I.” He grinned slightly. “I stay with them at Christmas.  Never liked getting in the way, you know, with Anthony and Chrissie.  So I go to them.  We just get hammered the whole time.  It’s okay.”

“She was a tough woman back in the day,” Danny remembered, with a slight grin.  “She was always screaming and shouting.”

“She had her reasons,” Michael nodded. “My dad treated her like shit.  When he wasn’t around, she’d get pissed and have a good time, because she could do what she wanted.  Then when he was around, she’d get pissed and have a bad time, because he’d just fucking beat her all the time.”

“I don’t really remember any of that.” Danny was staring at him intently, as if casting his mind back to a long gone time. 

“Well he was hardly there by then,” Michael said.  “By the time you moved there.  He was in and out again, wasn’t he?  Then she’d bugger off whenever she could.  I used to be glad.  Got some bloody peace when I was on my own.”

“Anthony once told me that he was rough on you as kids.  That he laid him out once, knocked him to the floor.  Then he never tried it again.  Was that true?”

Michael glanced back out at the street, thinking. “I do remember that,” he nodded finally. “Anthony was about sixteen I think.  I would have been, what? Eleven I suppose.  He used to get us with the slipper, that’s what I remember the most.  But like I said, he was always gone for a long time.  In and out.  Like that.”

“You were lucky you had Anthony,” Danny mused, and Michael nodded immediately.

“Oh yeah.  I know.  He took the brunt of it, without a doubt.  But that’s the worse he ever did you know?  Get you across his lap with the slipper. Or a good old clip behind the ear.”

“Mike?”

“Mm, what?”

“Doesn’t it scare you being a dad?  You know, when you have to discipline Zach?”

Michael came away from the window.  He finished his cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray.  “I knew that was what was bothering you,” he said, “when I had Zach here.”

“Eh?”

“You know, all that about you not wanting kids ever.”

“I don’t want kids,” said Danny, grinning at him.

“Why?  Because you think you’d do to them what Howard did to you? Come on mate you can’t think like that.” He sat back down, easing his sore ribs slowly onto the other sofa.  “And in answer to your question, no.  It doesn’t scare me.  Me and Jenny don’t smack Zach, we never have.  We just tell him off or whatever.” He shrugged his shoulders at Danny’s enquiring expression.  “Seems to have worked fine.  He’s a good boy.”

“He is,” Danny agreed. “I was just thinking out loud, you know.”

“And I’ve never hit a woman in my life,” Michael added then. “And neither has Anthony.” He shrugged at Danny. “So see?  You don’t always copy the way you were brought up.”

“Howard did,” Danny said then.  Michael looked at him.  He felt like he could read Danny like a book, and now was no exception.  He was thinking about the old man.  He was thinking about what a monster Howard was.  How the things he did were in a totally different league to the things Michael and Anthony’s dad had done.  He could see the thoughts going through his mind, and he could understand it.  He had thought about it enough himself.  How does someone get to be that evil and twisted?  Are they, on some level, just born that way?  Or is it their own childhood, their own experiences that shapes them? 

“You don’t know everything,” Michael tried to remind him.  “You don’t know how he was treated.  You’ll drive yourself crazy trying to figure it out mate, so why bother?”

“He always said I had it easy,” Danny went on however, gazing down at Kurt as he stroked him slowly on his lap.  “Like I ought to be grateful.  He’d say it.  He’d say his old man was worse.  So he must have been?  But Lee loved his dad.  He looked up to him.  He thought that was the best way, and the right way, you know?  He couldn’t understand people letting their kids run wild.  He thought his way was the only way to do it.”

“Yeah and he fucking enjoyed it too don’t forget?  Maybe it made him feel better.” Michael shrugged and pulled his feet up onto the sofa, wrapping his arms carefully back around his bruised up middle.  “Maybe he turned into such a monster because he needed to feel big and powerful.  You’ve really got good old Jerry Howard to blame for everything, haven’t you?”  Michael shook his head in disgust.  “Fucking old bastard.”

“And yet he denied it all,” Danny said, shrugging as he frowned. “In his eyes,  Lee never did anything to me.  He tried to give me a decent life and I paid him back by getting high on coke and killing him.  That’s how he sees it.  That’s what he said, anyway.”

“He really said that?” Michael was incredulous. “He really thinks his son treated you well?”

“Yep,” Danny nodded, a small smile on his lips. “Ten years was not enough, apparently.  I should have got life.”

“It’s so him!” Michael raged from the sofa, snarling. “It’s so him doing all this!  I can’t wait to see that old fucker, I really can’t.  That is un-fucking-believable!”

“I know,” Danny nodded. “We’ll have a good chat.  My words with him yesterday obviously had no effect.”

“You won’t ever get through to someone like that,” Michael said, and he knew that he was right.  “Not ever.  Best we can hope for is we can scare him, or fight him off somehow.  I don’t even know mate.  If he can summon up heavies like that, less than an hour after seeing you?  God I don’t know.  I thought things were scary enough back when we were kids, when Anthony got set up, but this is something else.  I feel scared mate, I’m not ashamed to admit it.  I want to fight back, but it fucking scares me, all of this.”

Danny yawned from the other sofa.  “Me too.  I should have asked what the fuck he wanted.  What does he want from me?  What can I do?  I can’t make his son come back can I?”

“You wouldn’t if you fucking could!” Michael laughed. Just then Danny’s phone went off, vibrating and buzzing angrily within his clothes.  Michael watched in amusement as he searched for it, swatting one pocket and then the other, until he finally located it under his backside.  Danny looked at the call and immediately glanced up at Michael.

“Haskell,” he said, and put it to his ear.  “Hi Caroline.”

Michael waited, feeling his impatience grow, as Danny listened quietly to whatever the reporter had to say.  He finally nodded. “Okay thanks.  I will do.  I’ll have to get back to you later.  Seeing my girlfriend in a bit.  Okay. Bye.” He hung up and looked expectantly at Michael.  “She has three addresses,” he said, and Michael felt his jaw drop. He was astounded.

“She was bloody quick! All three?”

“Yep, all three. She wouldn’t give them to me over the phone though.  She wants to meet with me again.”

“Oh of course,” Michael groaned. “Course she does. She wants her pound of flesh, don’t forget?  She won’t let you have them until you’ve done your bloody interview.”

“We’ll see.” 

“Just be careful,” Michael found himself warning him.  Danny just nodded and fell silent, deep in thought again.  Michael blew his breath out through his teeth and wondered where all of this was going to lead.

20

Michael

 

 

                        He sat smoking in Anthony’s lounge, sprawled out on the sofa under the boarded up window.  He couldn’t resist a smug smile to himself.  He could smoke in the house now that Chrissie had gone.  Ah but it was sad really, it was devastating.  He looked up and caught sight of the kids pictures, dotted proudly in frames all over the walls, and felt a stirring of guilt and unease in his belly.  His brother was in the kitchen, trying to decide between tea and beer.  He was supposed to be at work but had called in sick. Michael could see that he was sick all right; sick of everything, without a clue what to do about it.  Chrissie was still at her parent’s house with the kids. 

“She can’t take them from you, you know,” Michael said, when Anthony shuffled miserably back into the room.  Michael was pleased to see he had opted for beer, hurling one at him, and slumping into an armchair with his own.  Anthony shrugged in response.  He was wearing old tracksuit trousers and a paint stained t-shirt.  They had been up most of the night drinking and talking, and he looked somewhat worse for wear this morning.  Michael looked at his phone.  Danny had still not returned his messages.  “You need to go around there and have it out with her,” he said to his brother. “You need to stand up for yourself.”

“Why?” Anthony looked at him irritably. “She’s done the right thing.  They’re better off out the way with all this going on.”

“The police are investigating properly now,” Michael shrugged, snapping his beer open and taking a large gulp. “After what happened to Lucy last night.  They can’t ignore stuff like that.”

“We’ll see.”

“Still no message from Dan,” Michael told him, looking at his phone again. “Do you think he’s all right?”

“I don’t know.  Hopefully he’s gone in search of these scumbags.  Hopefully he’ll find them and kick the living shit out of them.”

Michael laughed. “Do you really think he’s got it in him?”

Anthony glared his way. “He just spent eight years in prison Mike.  Course he’s fucking got it in him.”

“So you’ve had it out with Chrissie, or what?” Michael decided to bring the conversation back around to his sister-in-law and her stubbornness. Anthony yawned in reply, drank fast mouthfuls of beer, and looked angry.

“She doesn’t know me at all, you know,” he said then.  Michael nodded and waited.  He thought, I know that already mate. “It’s like these last eight years together, or whatever it is, she thinks she’s been married to someone else.”

“You should tell her,” Michael said then, sitting forward slightly on the sofa, and tapping the ash from his cigarette into the ashtray on the floor.  “Tell her Jenny is totally fine with it all.  She wants to meet Danny and everything.  She didn’t give a shit about Zach meeting him.  She was just pleased for us all you know?”

Anthony looked at him with narrowed eyes. “But have you told her about the letters and the windows and that?”

“Yeah, I’ve told her,” Michael replied. “Course I have.  I’m not having Zach over, just in case, but she’s still cool about it all.  You should tell Chrissie that.”

“Jenny’s a good girl,” Anthony nodded at him, his expression sombre.  “You should have held onto her you know.  She’s a good girl and she would have loved you forever.”

“I know I’m an idiot,” Michael shrugged.  He had been thinking the same thing himself lately.  He still could not believe how cool she had been about Danny’s return, and the trouble it had brought for them all.  He had gone to visit Zach at home twice in the last week, which was more than normal.  He supposed he felt a bit ashamed of himself for the way he had behaved in the past.  He hated to admit it but there had been some truth in some of the things Anthony had said to him that night in the pub. “I’m trying to make it up to her now,” he told Anthony. “I’m gonna’ get more involved with Zach, you know?  Be more helpful for her and stuff.”

“Good,” Anthony nodded. “About time.”

“So what do you think will happen?  You think she’ll come back with her tail between her legs when all this blows over?”

Anthony sighed.  He crossed one ankle over the other. “God knows.  I don’t know Mike.  We’ve got a lot of talking to do, one way or another.  I mean, I can understand her being angry and scared, and wanting the kids out the way, but it’s the whole thing of making me choose that I can’t take.  She knows how much you and Dan mean to me, I’ve told her a million times, but she obviously didn’t listen, or she didn’t get it, I don’t know.”

“Hard for her to get, I suppose,” Michael said diplomatically, choosing his words carefully.  He felt like letting rip, of course, letting Anthony know exactly what he thought of his sister-in-law, but he knew he couldn’t.  That wouldn’t be fair. 

“It’s like she doesn’t care,” Anthony tried to explain, and Michael could see that he had been thinking about it endlessly. “It’s like it means nothing to her.  That time of our lives, it kind of shaped us, you know?  It’s like she doesn’t want to hear it, she doesn’t even want to understand it.  I tried to tell her I was practically like a dad to you and Danny back then.  That was how I felt.  That’s why I can’t just turn my back on either of you, but she won’t listen, she won’t have it Mike.  The only way she sees it, you’re both grown men now and I should leave you to it.  Stay out of it.”

“She wasn’t there,” Michael said softly.  “She doesn’t know.  She can’t possibly understand.”

“But it’s like you said, Jenny does!”

“Yeah but Chrissie, she’s like this spoiled princess type of girl, isn’t she?” Michael looked at his brother, eyebrows raised in apology. “I don’t mean anything bad by that,” he said quickly, “but that’s how she is, I mean she’s one of those girls, nice family, nice house, good at school, pretty and popular.  What has she ever had to deal with in life that isn’t nice or normal?”

“Nothing,” shrugged Anthony bitterly. “That’s what drives me mad sometimes.”

“I know, and I’m not slagging her off, I’m really not, she is a bloody fantastic mother, and she’s got this cool little business going and everything, and like when she talks, she’s so articulate and level-headed and knowledgeable.  But she hasn’t had to struggle for anything you know?  I think it all scares her.  I think me, and my life, and Danny coming back, it scares her because it reminds her of where you came from, and who you are.”  Michael drained the last of his beer and crushed the can in his hand, eyeing his brother’s doleful expression with triumph.  He knew he was right.  Chrissie had fallen in love with Anthony because he was handsome, and confident, and treated her like a lady.  She knew what she wanted.  Marriage, a home, and kids.  She somehow felt that his and Anthony’s past tainted all of that, or was a threat to it.  “That’s what it is mate,” he said. “The old you, the bloke who’s been in prison twice, the bloke who lived in a shitty little bed-sit with me and Danny, that’s not the one she wants.  That one scares her.  She wants this you,” and he spread out his hands, taking in the large TV and the portraits on the wall, and the sofa they had bought just three months ago after redecorating the lounge. “That’s why she hates you mixing with me, and that’s why it freaks her out so much Danny being back.”

“But why can’t she listen to me?” Anthony questioned, and Michael could see how anguished he was by it all.  He loved his wife, and his kids, and the life they had together, and as angry as he was, he did not want to lose it all.  “She’s my wife and she says she loves me, but she won’t listen.  She has no empathy Mike, for what Danny went through.  She just sees him as a killer, you know?  That’s what she said.  She called him a murderer.  She said the kids can’t go anywhere near him.  I just thought, you know, she might try to understand.”

“Some people just see what they want to see mate.  You can’t really blame her.  What he did frightens her.  What happened to him frightens her.  She probably thinks it will fucking rub off on them or something.”  Michael shrugged and shook his head.  “Fuck knows mate.”

“But I mean Lucy, she came from a nice home and a nice family,” Anthony said, his head in hand, his forehead creased by a frown.  “She still somehow understood, didn’t she?  I mean, she didn’t really even know the half of it, but she was always there, wasn’t she?”

“Different,” Michael told him flatly.  “One, she grew up with us, so she gets it all.  And two she’s fucking head over heels in love with Danny.  He could probably murder a few more fuckers and she wouldn’t care.”

Anthony dropped his hand, looked at his brother and smiled.  “Can’t believe you said that.”

“Joke,” Michael replied. “But it is true.”

“So he’s not with Lucy then?” Anthony asked with a sigh.  Michael looked at his phone again, willing it to beep at him.  He shook his head.

“He left this morning.  Maybe I should call him?”

“Yeah go on.  Lucy was meant to be finding out about you know who, on the Internet.  We might learn some more today, with that, and the police, you know?” 

Michael nodded, phone in hand.  He brought Danny’s number up and hit call.  The phone just rang and rang, and eventually went to answer. “Can you fucking answer your phone once in a lifetime please?” Michael shouted into it and hung up.  He rolled his eyes at his brother. “He’ll show up later.  You want to come and get pissed with me somewhere?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Anthony grinned, and hauled himself up from the chair.  “Why the fuck not eh?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

21

Lucy

 

 

            She went through the whole day at school, not really knowing what she was doing.  It was like she was on auto-pilot, doing everything out of habit and instinct.  When she got home and threw down her bag and her laptop, and kicked off her shoes, she realised she could not remember anything about the day.  As she reached for the bottle of wine in the fridge, she hoped no one else had noticed.  Oh well, she thought, it was too late now. 

The power was back on.  She was determined not to feel scared.  Carl had told her to call or text or pop up to him at any time, should she need to.  It was reassuring knowing that he was there, looking out for her.  Lucy filled a glass with wine and wandered aimlessly towards the kitchen window.  She rested against the wall there, safe behind the net curtains and looked out at the road.  She thought about what had distracted her so much all day, not so much the creepy phone call or the power going out, but Danny, out there on the pavement, talking to that woman. He seemed to know her, Lucy thought, and she wondered if she ought to recognise her for some reason too, but if she did, she wasn’t sure why, or from where. 

They had chatted for a few minutes.  Their body language had alarmed her, even from the window.  Not only did they seem to already know each other, but they seemed to be eyeing each other up, she thought.  Sussing each other out.  The woman was smiling, tilting her head.  Flirting, she had definitely been flirting.  And then they had walked off together.  This was the part that made Lucy’s heart hurt.  This was the part that made her suck in her breath suddenly and blink away tears.  They had walked off together.  To where?  Where had they gone?  Had he arranged to meet her out there, and if so why hadn’t he told her? 

So many questions.  But at the same time, she told herself to shut up and get over it, because isn’t this what she had wanted?  Isn’t this what she had been on the verge of talking him into all night?  That he should be single for a while and find out what he wants.  But oh it hurt, seeing him like that, with someone else, no matter how innocent.  She had not been prepared for how much it would hurt.

Lucy sipped her wine and thought about calling him or sending him a text, but something held her back, something told her not to.  Let him be, she thought instead, let him be and see what happens.  She had an inkling that he did not enjoy being checked up on and worried about constantly, so she tried not to do it.  He was not a baby, or a kid anymore, he was a grown man, and she knew he had to try to find his own way somehow.  She recognised that Anthony and Michael had slipped easily back into their old roles with him.  They were doing it again, even if they did not mean to.  Looking out for him, defending him, worrying about him.  Anthony’s wife had walked out for the time being, and it pained Lucy deeply to think of Anthony all alone.   She thought back to that year the three of them had spent in the bed-sit together.  They had been tighter than ever, she remembered, resting her head now against the wall, as she cradled her wine glass in one arm. 

Anthony had been like mum and dad to them.  He had done all the shopping, and the cooking.  Lucy smiled at this.  They had been like a little family, watching over each other.  She wondered then if she could try to talk to Chrissie, try to help her understand the relationship that they had all had.  She had only met Anthony’s wife a handful of times, and had liked her.  She had seemed a natural, effortless mother to her children, and reminded Lucy of her own mum.  The way she looked at her kids, you could tell they meant the world to her, that she adored them, and would do anything for them.  Lucy moved away from the window then, and thought about putting the laptop on.  Typing in those three names, and seeing what happened.  But the thought chilled and outraged her. 

Instead, she sank down onto her sofa, pulled up her legs and curled up with her wine.  She flicked on the TV and checked her phone one last time.  No messages from Danny.  She wondered where he was.  Who he was with.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

22

Danny

 

            They stared at each other across the grave.  Danny had pushed himself up onto his feet, but felt small again, diminished somehow in the old man’s presence.  He was just an old man, but there was no denying whose father he was.  Danny felt tremors of fear clawing through him.  He was old, but he had the same build as his son.  The same menacing air surrounded him.  He lowered his walking stick back to the ground, his gnarled old hand curled around it like a claw.  Danny looked him up and down quickly, hardly daring to take his eyes off him.  He was dressed in a long navy blue overcoat, brown trousers showing at the bottom, between the edge of the coat and the top of his black Wellington boots.  He wore one of those flat caps on his head, like a lot of old men.  Danny looked back at his face and for a moment all he could think about was running.  Turning around and running as fast as he could.  The eyes were the same.  They were Lee Howard’s piercing eyes in an older face. 

“Well?” the old man barked then suddenly, making Danny jump.  His voice was low and gravely, and Danny remembered how Lucy had described the voice on the phone last night.  He took another step back without even thinking.  “What do you think you’re doing here?  At my son’s grave?  Came to mess it up some more did you, you little fucker? Came to shit on it this time, did you?  You disgusting excuse for a human! I ought to call the police!”

Danny searched for his voice but could not find it.  He opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again.  He looked around quickly but could see no one else.  They were all alone.  He swallowed and coughed to clear his throat.  The old man was staring at him in disgust.  “Cat got your tongue?” he demanded then, jutting his jaw out defiantly.  “Lee always said you had nothing to say for yourself!”

“I came here hoping to see you actually,” Danny said then, and although his voice came out as a croak, he was still amazed anything had emerged at all.  He could feel his heart pounding in panic.  He took a deep breath, willing his body to calm down.  “You’re his dad?” his eyes flicked briefly to the grave.  “You’re Jerry?”

“Course I bloody am!” Jerry spat back at him, his lip curling into a sneer.  Danny bristled.

“Good.”

“What do you mean good?  What the hell do you think you’re doing here after all you’ve done?  My wife went to an early grave because of you!”

Danny nodded slowly. This is good. He could hear the calm voice inside his head, the one he needed to listen to. This is what I wanted.  Keep calm.  This will lead us somewhere.  “Funny you should mention the police,” he said then, keeping his eyes on the old mans, using every ounce of control he owned to keep his voice steady. “Because you might find them knocking on your door pretty soon.  I’ve given them your name.  And your other son.  Dennis, is it?”

The old man snorted, rolling his eyes. “Don’t see anything of him! Waste of space he is!  You must be having a laugh you repulsive little shit.  Police knocking on my door eh?  You’re the one who’s a killer!”

“Yeah and I’ve been to jail,” Danny said, calmly.  “I’ve paid for it.  But that’s not enough for you, is it?  You’re the one behind all the graffiti, and the letters, and the bricks?  Aren’t you?  And last night?  Someone cut the power to my girlfriends flat, then called her up and scared the shit out of her!”  Good, that’s good, get angry, not scared, let the anger squash the fear, because he is just an old man, and you are not a little kid anymore…

“And you’re pointing the finger at me?” Jerry pointed to himself and laughed then.  He tipped back his head, his broad whiskered chin lifting to the sky as the chuckling rocked his body.  “That’s a fucking joke!” His eyes whipped back to Danny, and filled with pure rage.  He pointed at him now.  “You!  You are the one who murdered my boy!  Stabbed him to death in his own home! And you dare accuse me of crimes?”

“You deny it?” Danny asked.  “Who else would it be?”

“Anyone!” Jerry roared, and again Danny flinched, he sounded so much like his son.  He thought of all the times that twisted screaming face had been pushed into his, bellowing into his ear.  “I’m not the only one who thinks eight years is a fucking joke!  Ten years? Ten years, and you didn’t even serve that!  For taking my son’s life?  For driving my wife to her death?   Life was not enough for you!”

“I think it’s you,” Danny said.  He slipped one hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his pack of cigarettes.  Keeping his eyes on Jerry, he stuck one into his mouth, found the lighter in his other pocket and lit up.  “It’s you,” he said again, blowing a smooth stream of smoke across the grave towards him.  “It was you on the phone last night.  The things you said to her.  Just like him.  Who else would know those things?”

“What things?” the old man demanded, doing a fine job of sounding incredulous.

“The things he used to call me,” Danny replied with a shrug. “Little man, and shit stain.  He said it wasn’t over until he said it was over.  That’s exactly the fucked up kind of thing he would say.  Except he can’t say it, can he?  Because he’s down there!” Danny jerked his cigarette towards the grave and watched Jerry’s eyes widen in horror.  “So it was you.  It has to be you.  No one else would know those things.”

“You’re talking crap,” the old man snarled. “Where’s your proof?  Where’s the evidence?  There’s been no coppers talking to me.  You’re living in a dream world.”

“Why don’t you just admit it?” Danny shrugged. “It’s so fucking obvious.  You hate me for killing him and you want revenge.  Fair enough.  We can talk.  That’s why I came here.  But you have to leave my friends alone, right?  They didn’t do anything to you.”

“Yeah, I knew you’d be back, when I caught you and your little side-kick urinating here that day!” Jerry shook his head, eyes narrowing again now. “Disgusting that was.  Vile.  Inhuman.  What kind of person does that?”

“Inhuman?” Danny questioned, rubbing his chin.  “That’s interesting.  Because that’s exactly how I would describe your precious son.  Did you actually know him at all? Or do you just think all the things he did are fine?”

“He didn’t do anything to you!” Jerry stepped forward then, slamming his walking stick back down into the mud.  Danny glanced at it, considered moving back, but then remembered again, he was a man now.  He didn’t have to.  He stood his ground, smoked his cigarette and waited, eyebrows raised in mock interest. “You were a coked up little bastard who stabbed my son to death, after he gave you every chance of a decent life!”

Danny shook his head, blinked and laughed out loud.  He could barely believe what he was hearing, it was so unreal.  “Decent life?” he asked.  “He gave me a decent life did he?”

“Yes he fucking well did, you ungrateful little bastard.  He tried to be a father to you, when your own couldn’t be bothered.  He tried to keep you on the straight and narrow, he tried to help you be a decent hardworking person, like he was!” The man stopped then, as if the emotion was getting the better of him.  He tore his eyes away from Danny and glared down at the grave. “I was so proud of him.  Everything he achieved in his life.  He worked hard!  Unlike you!”

“Beating me with his belt was giving me a decent life was it?” Danny licked his lips and stepped forward, towards the grave.  He focused his gaze on the old man, who suddenly seemed smaller now, as he stooped slightly over his stick, as if he had been holding himself upright and could not do it for much longer.  “Getting his pervert friend to deal me drugs was a decent life too was it? Burning me with cigarettes?  Punching me in the head? Kicking the shit out me?  That was all giving me a decent life was it mate?  Because it didn’t fucking feel like it to me!”

He pulled on his cigarette, feeling and allowing the anger and resentment to flow through him.  The old man straightened up again, and Danny was sure he could see a flinch of pain in his face as he did.  He was shaking his head violently. “There is no evidence that he abused you.  All that shit you came out with at the trial!  No evidence!  There were no police reports, you never called the cops on him! If he was hurting you so bad, why the hell didn’t you call the cops, eh?  There are no doctors reports, no hospital admissions, nothing!”

“He beat my mum too,” Danny shot back.  “Once I’d left!”

“No proof!” Jerry bellowed in return.  He took another step, this time around the edge of the grave, as if he had no intention of walking across it.  “She just said that to stick up for you, the lying bitch!”

“Why did I run away then?” Danny asked. “Why did I pack all my stuff and fuck off before I was even sixteen?  If I was having such a decent life?  Why did he stalk me and my friends for a year?  Attacking one of them in an alley?  There’s a police report for that old man!”

“Bullshit,” Jerry took another step around the grave.  A few more and he and Danny would be chest to chest.  “All lies. If he tried to find you it was because he wanted to help you.”

“That is fucking hilarious!” Danny roared then, rocking back on his heels in amusement.  He tossed his cigarette butt down and clapped his hands. “That is the funniest fucking thing I ever heard, you stupid delusional old bastard! That’s what he was doing, was it?  Trying to help me?  You don’t know the first thing about him do you?  Yeah he wanted to help me.  He wanted me back under his thumb.  He even offered me Freeman’s job once he’d jumped ship.  You know what that was don’t you?  Dealing drugs to little kids.  He wanted me to do that for him.  That was really helping me, wasn’t it eh?”

“You’re a lying little fucker,” the old man hissed, drops of spittle flying from his clenched teeth.  “That’s what you are.  He told me.  He told me what you were like from day one! Spoiled little mummy’s boy, getting his own way all the time.  You didn’t like my son coming in and stealing the attention away from you.”

“That’s why I killed him, is it?  Because I wanted the attention?” Danny snorted derisive laughter.

“You killed him because you were a drug crazed little arsehole! He warned me about you! He worried something like that would happen.  You’re disgusting.” Jerry was now right in front of Danny.  Danny looked at him.  The old man was slightly taller than him, and well built for an old guy, and he sensed that he expected Danny to move back, to wither in his presence, but he didn’t.  He stood his ground again and pushed out his chest.  “You’ve shown no remorse.  You disgust me.  You should have got life.  You’ve not been punished enough.”

“I think I have,” Danny told him. “I think your bastard son punished me enough.”

“He did nothing to you! He did nothing to deserve what you did to him that day!” Jerry was even closer now, both his hands clamped down upon the top of his stick, his shoulders rigid with hate, his thin lips pulled back over his teeth.  He had the same teeth as Lee as well Danny noted then.  Small and straight, only his were yellowed and discoloured with age. 

“Your son abducted me and hung me over a cliff!” Danny pushed his face closer to the old man’s.  He suddenly wanted him to know about it, to know it all, the truth of it, and better than that to feel it as well.  To know what it felt like to be dangled from a cliff top by a psychopath, by someone who you know is just insane enough to let you go, let you fall.  To know how it felt to be small and helpless, with no way of fighting back.  He suddenly wanted the old man to know how it feels to think you are about to die. 

“There is no evidence!” he growled in response, his eyes now inches away from Danny’s.  “Where’s your evidence?”

“I had cuts on my wrists from the wire he used.  Look!” Danny shoved his sleeve up his arm and pointed to the thin scars around one of his wrists. “What’s that then? How else did I get that?”

“Fucked if I know!” Jerry yelled back at him fiercely. “Fucked if I care!”

“They brought it up in court,” Danny remembered then, pushing his sleeve back down. 

“They also discounted every attempt you made to discredit my son, because there was no goddamn evidence!  And as the judge reminded your defence every time, they were there to decide if you killed him intentionally or not.  They were not there to debate what he allegedly did or didn’t do to deserve it!”

“I must have a pretty good imagination then,” Danny said, feeling the sudden urge to laugh again.  He could barely believe he was stood next to the evil bastards grave, arguing with his old man!  “To make all this shit up?  Why would I?”

“To justify it to yourself, and others,” the old man sneered at him.  “To make yourself out as the victim.  If he was so vile to you for years, why didn’t you tell the police, or a teacher?  Or your own goddamn mother?”

Danny took a step back then and breathed in then out again slowly.  He saw this was getting him nowhere.  This could go on for hours.  “I don’t have to justify myself to you, or to anyone,” he said then.  “I killed him because he drove me to it, and I don’t give a shit if you believe that or not.  He tortured me for years. He was a fucking deranged psychopath, and no one knows that better than me!  He was never going to leave me alone.  He brought it on himself.  He pushed me to it.  I fucking snapped in the end!  I’ve served my time now.  I took the full fucking whack when I didn’t have to.  So I’ve been punished.” He moved his head forward gently then, finding the old mans eyes with his own and holding them.  See it, see it in me, see that it’s all true, see what he did, and let it be over. “So it’s over now, you hear me old man?  He’s dead.  I’m out.  It’s all fucking over.”

“No,” the old man said it quickly and Danny knew then, he knew that it was him.  “No, it’s not.  It’s not over.  Not for me.”

“Well make sure you tell that to the cops when they come knocking,” Danny nodded at him, smiled softly and turned away.  “I’m not a scared little kid this time around.  I’m not running this time.  I’m not hiding from anyone.  Come find me any time you want.  You obviously know how to.”

He walked away quickly.  He walked away while he was still able to, while he still had the last word.  He felt strangely exhilarated, though half of it was through sheer terror and hate, but that was okay, it was more than that.  It was refreshing he thought in amusement, to get the last word, to get to walk away in one piece. 

He walked away knowing who was behind all the shit he’d been getting, and why.  It was all simple, he told himself.  His phone went off again as he neared the car park.  It was Michael.  “Mike?”

“Danny! For fuck’s sake why don’t you ever answer your phone?”

“Still getting used to it,” Danny laughed in reply. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, just me and Anthony getting shitfaced in the pub.”

“The one near your flat?”

“Of course.  Where are you?”

“On the way,” Danny grinned and hung up.