58

 

When the lectures were all over, I slunk on up to my bedroom, which was starting to feel less and less like it belonged to me.  I closed my door on the murmurings that continued downstairs, and sat on my bed for a few strange minutes, staring at the door, the floor and the cracks in the ceiling.  I stared at these the longest.  I could identify with these.  Eventually the silence started to hurt my ears so I leaned over and pressed play on the stereo. I smiled a little when the music started. It was The Doors Strange Days album, one of my oldest tapes.  I could still remember where I bought it from.  A car boot sale back in Southampton, and I must have been about twelve years old.  It was definitely one of the very first albums I ever bought.  I’d gone back week after week with John. I’d bought music; second hand Guns ‘N’ Roses and The Doors.  He’d bought clothes, trying to compete with his friends.  Listening to The Doors now felt sort of disjointed and nostalgic. It was like being able to see through a window to a younger me.  What I remembered most was how angry I had always been back then.  How I’d watched my mother, spinning recklessly from one stupid boyfriend to the next.  How John had just rolled his eyes and ignored it all, letting it all wash over his head.  He should have paid more attention, I found myself thinking now.  Mum and I, locking horns over every little thing.  My smile faded when I realized that both of them were gone now.  I’d lost them both.  And a spiteful niggling little voice at the back of my head told me that this was all my fault, that I had pushed them too far too many times and this was why I was now all alone.

I took out my tin and rolled a quick joint.  I wanted to relax.  I wanted the pot to fill my head up with warmth and fuzz and detachment from everything. I wanted to lie back on my bed and drift into heavy sleep, not thinking or feeling anything. I wanted the fingers of fear to stop scrabbling inside of me.  I got on my bed and smoked, and thought about the scene which had just transpired downstairs.  The farce of care that I’d found myself surrounded with.  My mother, distraught and tear stained, wringing her hands constantly, looking at me as if I had just been diagnosed with a terminal disease.  Howard had done really well.  The man deserved an Oscar, the way he played the over protective, slightly stressed out father, with a constant look of strain etched upon his face.  I felt like applauding him at times.  I had to put an end to it as soon as possible.  I admitted I had tried a few things.  I told them how awful it had been.  I told them it was really stupid of me and I would never be doing it again.  They believed me.  I told them I was going to buckle down and do better at school, and stop skiving off with faked sick notes, and they believed me again. My mum even reached across the table to squeeze my hand as I babbled on.  It didn’t really matter what I said, as long as they bought it.  As long as they believed me and let me go.

Back in my room I took deep satisfying drags on the spliff and reminded myself that it was over, and I was safe.  I was not being shipped off to care any time soon.  And that, I reasoned, was what it was all about at the end of the day.  Staying safe.  Whatever it took.  Doing what they wanted, so I would be left alone.  I felt bad about running out on Anthony and Michael, but I would go to school in the morning and explain it to them.

I fell asleep for a while.  I woke up briefly when my mother called up that they were going into town, and then I drifted off again. I woke up a second time because someone was banging on the front door.  I sat up in bed, rubbing my face awake.  I’d done a really stupid thing and fallen asleep with the ashtray and half smoked joint on my lap.  I made sure it was out and placed the ashtray down on the floor.  There was another knock at the door, followed closely by a female voice, which called through the letterbox and trailed up the stairs to greet me.  “Danny?  Danny!  It’s Lucy!”

What the fuck?  I laughed a little and headed for the door, shaking my hair from my eyes and wondering what the hell she was doing here.  I appeared on the landing and could see the letterbox pushed open in the hallway.  “Lucy?” I asked, coming quickly down the stairs.  I pulled open the door. “Hiya’!”

She grinned in relief and stepped quickly into the hallway.  She was still in her school uniform, with her bag upon her shoulder.  “Anthony’s been looking everywhere for you!” she told me. I closed the door and shrugged apologetically. “He sent me over to see if you were here.  To see if you were okay.”

“Will you tell them I’m fine?” I asked her.  “I had to come home and get cleaned up and stuff, then I had a teacher and the truants officer come over to see me.”  I made a face and she made one back.

“Oh. Wow.”

“Yeah. Nightmare.”

“What did they say? What happened?”

“Oh I did most of the talking,” I shrugged. “I’ll be back at school in the morning. You can tell Mike that as well. I’ll be there. Tell him I’ll meet him out on the main road.”

She smiled and her shoulders relaxed with it. “Well that’s a relief.”

I placed one foot on the stairs and smiled at her cheekily. “You want to come up and listen to music with me?”

She looked surprised for a moment, her head moving back slightly and her eyes flashing. “Okay then,” she grinned. “Why not?” I took her hand and walked back upstairs, with her following behind me.  Inside my room, I closed the door and she stood beside the bed, her school bag dangling at her ankles.  She stared around, sort of frowning and smiling at the same time.

“What?” I asked her.

“It’s just…” She broke off and let the bag thump to the floor.  Her eyes ran along the length of my desk, up to my shelves on the wall and down to my bed. “Wow. It’s just, so clean and tidy. I’ve never seen a room this tidy. You should see mine!  My mum just closes the door on it. In fact, she tells me off if I leave the door open!”  Lucy laughed rather nervously and sat down on the edge of my bed.  She appeared unsure, and cautious.  I didn’t exactly blame her.  Looking around my own room gave me the creeps most days as well.  The desk was all ship shape, the way Howard commanded it.  School books in piles, stereo at one end with cassettes stacked neatly beside. The books on my shelves, organised in height order, with all of the spines turned outwards.  My bedside set of drawers, set out neatly with reading lamp, alarm clock and one book.  My bed, never a huddle or a mess, always made up and tucked in at every corner.  No clothes or shoes lying on the floor.  No piles of magazines or crumby plates, or half drunk cups of tea.  Everything in its place and a place for everything.

I sat down next to her. “My stepfather is a bit of a clean freak,” I told her. Her smile faltered just a little bit.  I wondered what, if anything, Mike and Anthony had told her.  Did she know the whole sorry story, or did she just think I was a stupid druggy who took too much and practically had a breakdown on the beach? I looked at my hands resting on my knees and decided I didn’t really want to know either way.

“So,” she said then, looking away briefly as her cheeks warmed up. “You’re okay now then?  You’re feeling better?  You look better.”

“I’m fine,” I nodded at her. “I’m really sorry about all of that. I’ve been a complete idiot.”

“You don’t have to say sorry to me.  I was just so worried, you know.  Seeing you like that. You’re not going to do any of that stuff again are you?”

I shook my head quickly. “No way.  Learnt my lesson. Promise.”

“Okay.  Good.”

She didn’t say anything for a while.  I was glad.  I liked that about her.  She didn’t feel the need to probe or lecture, or preach.  You could see everything she was thinking and feeling, right there on her face.  I leaned towards her ever so slightly, until our arms were touching.  We were both staring down at our knees.  The Doors were still playing.  I found my feet tapping along to the music. Lucy giggled then, and her hair fell down over her ears and into her face.  I giggled too, and bumped my shoulder into hers.  I was grinning like a lunatic.  I had the urge to grab her and wrestle her down onto the bed.  Tickle her or kiss her, and try to make her giggle again. “Who is this?” she asked me.

“The Doors. You heard of them?”

“Think so.”

“Sixties band,” I explained. “Used to be really into them. Haven’t listened to them in a while. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s good,” she nodded. “Sort of..haunting.”

I laughed softly. “Exactly.”

I moved back then, pulling my legs up onto the bed and finding the pillow with my head.  I patted the bed with my hand.  “Come on.”  She stared, her hair falling back over her face, her smile widening shyly.  Then she took a little quick breath and pulled her legs up too.  It was awkward for a moment or two.  You know how it is.  Getting comfy.  She was blushing like mad as she lay down beside me.  And then I put my arm around her shoulder and she sort of snuggled into the side of me, and rested her head down on my chest.  I wondered if she could hear my heart, going totally crazy.  She seemed to fit in so nicely there, I thought, tucked under my arm, curled into me.  My feet were twitching with the music at the end of the bed.  She sighed.  We lay like that for a long time.  I thought it was the best feeling in the world.  I leaned down and planted a clumsy kiss on the top of her head, and she sighed again, and giggled.  Look up, I wanted to say to her, but did not dare, look up, and I will kiss you properly.

The next morning I met Michael out on Somerley road.  He was smiling like a lunatic as I approached, hands in pockets and school bag across my chest.  He slapped my back, bumping his body into mine, and then punching my shoulder while I laughed at him. “For gods sake,” I complained. “What you doing?”

“Ah it’s just so good to see you,” he told me, as we checked the road for traffic and crossed it between cars. “You know, properly.  And being normal!”  I grimaced in regret.

“Yeah I’m sorry about all that Mike. Haven’t had a chance to thank you and Anthony.  You know.  Everything you did.”

“No problem,” he shook his head. “Any time. Although not again in a hurry please?”

“No way.  I was a complete twat. I shouldn’t have put any of you through that.”

“Shut up, it wasn’t your fault you idiot.” He gazed down at the pavement as he walked, and nudged me with his elbow.  “Come on.”

“Yeah, Anthony said that too, but it’s not really the truth. No one forced me to take that stuff Mike.  I could have said no.”

“Come on, seriously forget about it. You’ve had a crap year! Who can blame you for wanting to get off your face, right? Think I’d hit the hard stuff too if that psycho was my step-dad! Shittinghell.  Anyway, listen, before we get to school, got loads to tell you. Anthony’s been a busy boy.”

I looked at him sharply. “What do you mean?”

“When he couldn’t find you, he went all over the place looking for you.  Not just looking for you as it happens, looking for this Jaime bloke too?” Michael shook his hair from his face and glanced at me.  I nodded at him, waiting for more.  I started to chew at my lip.  I was nervous enough as it was; heading back to school after everything that had happened lately, and now this.  I hoped he hadn’t placed himself in danger again.  “Well he found him.  Jaime Lawler, whatever his name is.  Bought a bit of weed off him to keep him happy. Poked around a bit you know? Went to school with his brother, so it was all pretty relaxed. They had a drink in The Ship together.”

“Really?”

“Yep.  Anyway, turns out, Jaime Lawler is the errand boy for Freeman. He works for him.  And Anthony reckons both of them work for Howard.”

“Oh,” I said, stopping and pulling him back by his sleeve. “That’s something I learnt too Mike. Howard knows Jack deals. He knows he deals to me and he doesn’t care.”

Michael stared back at me, his eyes penetrating with their intensity. He wettened his lips with his tongue and shook his head very slowly. “That bastard. That filthy lying drug dealing bastard. We ought to go right to the cops Danny. We should tell them everything.”

I smiled at him gently.  He looked so fierce, I found it sort of touching. “I’ve thought about that a million times,” I told him. “Jack is a copper Mike.  Or he was.  I dunno.  And Heaten, we already know he’s chummy with Howard. I don’t trust them.  And you don’t even want to know what he’s threatened to do to you and my mum if we mess with them.” I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat and started to walk on again. Michael nodded as he followed.

“I know Danny, I know, I get it. We’ve got to be careful. Anthony says. He says, if we be careful and tread lightly, we can trip them up somehow.  We need proof.  That’s what he said.”

“Billy and Jake,” I said, gesturing ahead. They were approaching the entrance to school from the other direction, pushing their bikes and talking excitedly.  I smiled briefly at the sight of them.  I thought how young and excited and innocent they looked.  I tried to imagine what normal things they were discussing.  Jake saw me first and did an instant double take, before punching Billy on the arm and nodding in my direction.  We met and fell into step together, the four of us again, like old times, going through the school gates.  I felt different though. I felt tired, and I felt older than them, and I felt a little bit like I wanted to cry, not because of everything that was happening in my life, but because of the looks on their faces.  Because they were so full of hope and direction and promise, and I knew it wouldn’t stay that way forever, because that was impossible.  I knew that some day, at some point, they would both face pain, and fear, and disappointment and desperation, and that was what made me sad.  That they would change.

“Hi mate,” Billy said, his grin fading in and out as if he was not quite sure if he should even have one or not. “Long time no see, how are you?”

I gave him a courteous nod. “Good thanks.  You?”

“Fine mate.  Fine.”

“You’ve been like the invisible man lately,” Jake remarked, eyeing me sideways as he pushed his bike along.  I couldn’t help but get the feeling he was giving me the once over you know, trying to determine if I was high or not.  “We’d nearly given up on you.”

“Well not all of us,” Michael sort of snapped at him then. Jake did not respond. He just shrugged very slightly and kept walking.

“Turned over a new leaf haven’t I?” I told them all to shut them up.  I don’t know if they believed me any more than I believed myself, but it closed the subject. Billy groaned at me.

“Got loads of tapes for you man. My dad’s been on one.  Taping all sorts of stuff for you.”

“Oh wow.  Tell him thanks a lot.”

“Why don’t you tell him yourself? Come over after school, yeah?”

I looked at Michael.  He was smiling and nodding, so I did too.  “Okay,” I said. “Why not?”

By first break I was already struggling.  Double maths was no kind introduction back into school life.  I abhorred the subject and always had done.  Couldn’t see the point in it.  Couldn’t get excited or interested in numbers.  I fought for a while to stay with it, leaning forward over my desk, straining my ears to listen, scribbling notes as fast as I could to help me catch up.  The monotonous drone of the teacher didn’t help, and I soon became horribly aware of how far behind I had fallen.  My mind kept taking me off to other places, and I felt too weak to fight my way back.   I found my gaze drifting time and time again to the world outside the window. The skies outside were pale and grey, promising nothing, and all of it, the sounds of the classroom, the thudding in my own head, filled me with a grating irritation.  When the bell finally rang, I rushed for the door, with Michael at my heels. I was craving a drink, a cigarette, something stronger, and the privacy in which to enjoy them. Instead I found myself standing in line in the canteen, waiting to buy a crappy can of coke and a mars bar.  I ate the chocolate and drank the coke, and tasted nothing.  I followed my friends aimlessly around the corridors, reaching out with one hand to drag slowly along the cold beige wall, and I thought about cows, being herded in for milking, and I felt the narrow walls and the smell of floor cleaner crushing down on me, squeezing the life out of me and it was getting harder to breathe.  I made an excuse and rushed to the nearest toilet.

I sat on the loo with my head between my knees.  I scooped in several long breaths of air and told myself to calm the fuck down.  Beads of sweat had marched out across my forehead, and there were damp patches emerging under my arms.  There was a prickle of panic, coursing through my veins, and I hated myself for it.  I pulled myself together in time for History, taking my old seat at the back of the class, hoping I could just slump down, become invisible, get through it.  But every time someone looked my way, or whispered to the person next to them, I became convinced they were aiming it at me.  It became a battle just to keep my backside in the chair.  My arse kept shifting. The chair was made of stone.  My legs twitched because they wanted to get me out of there and my feet tapped restlessly, wondering where the music was.  I just became overwhelmed and bogged down by this feeling that I was in the wrong place, that I shouldn’t be there, that I did not belong.  I looked at the other kids and I felt nothing like them.  I didn’t care about the stuff they cared about.  Truth was, all I cared about, all I really wanted right then, was music and drugs.

I emerged from History, sweating and wanting to kick something.  Michael walked alongside of me, asking tentatively if I was alright, and I couldn’t even bring myself to answer him, that was how bad I felt by then.  I kept staring at the exits every time we passed one.  The temptation to walk out was getting stronger and stronger.  And then I felt this light little arm slip through mine, and I looked down, and it was Lucy, smiling in that giddy way of hers.  Her cheeks were already warmed with dusky pink, and right away, I felt myself relax.  I remembered us lying on the bed together yesterday. I remembered all the Sundays we had spent at the beach, talking, and not talking.  I put my arm around her and pulled her close, resting my cheek against the top of her head for a moment and breathing in the smell of her. There was something between us that needed no explaining or defining.

“How’s it going?” she asked me.  I sighed.

“Better now I’ve seen you.”

“Been that bad?”

“Worse than I thought,” I said honestly.  “Much worse.”

“Come on, you can do it,” she told me with a smile that believed I could. “It’s only school. And it’s nearly lunch time.  Half way there.”

“Can’t concentrate on anything.  Too much in my head.”

“Don’t worry about concentrating,” she laughed at me. “That will come later. You only have to be here in person, right? To keep them off your back?” I nodded. “Well then, that’s all you have to worry about then. Just be here.  And if you want help catching up, I’ll help you after school. Any time.”

“Thanks Lucy.  You are very wise, you know.”

“I know I am,” she grinned. “You should listen to me always.”

Her words, and her smile kept me going, through English and towards the end of the day.  She sat next to me for English.  She gave me fierce smiles whenever Higgs whispered or giggled or passed a note.  She squeezed my knee under the table, and winked at me when I looked her way.  I tried to keep my head down.  I tried to pretend I had not seen the watery pitying smiles from Mrs Baker and I tried to push out how sickened, how low and fragile I felt inside.  I gazed out of the window again.  I doodled in the margins of my rough book.  I knew what I was doing; just killing time, and I didn’t know if I could do it again.  Life is killing time I wrote on my paper.  Lucy peered at it, and then put a line through it.  Life is what you make it she wrote underneath before looking at me expectantly, as if daring me to disagree. Higgs and his friends sniggered throughout the rest of the lesson, and although it occurred to me that I had proved his original opinions of me totally true, I clung onto Lucy, onto what she was telling me.  If she hadn’t been there, anchoring me in place, I would have got up and walked out by then.

At the end of the day, the plan was to go to Billy’s to listen to music and do some schoolwork.  Michael and Lucy linked arms with me and led me there.  I didn’t want to go.  Not one bit.  I felt exhausted, and desperate for a smoke, but I was too weak and shaky to argue.  I let them all sweep me along, because it was making them smile, and I did not want to let them down again.

Up in Billy’s room, he closed his door on his parents and switched on the music.  I could have laughed then.  Laughed or cried, or both.  I was just so relieved to hear some music, and there was this huge collective sigh in the room, and we all just dropped and sprawled and spread our bodies around the room.  I ended up with Lucy, curled up together in Billy’s battered arm chair.  I let my head fall back into her shoulder and just listened as the others began to dissect the school day, as they scattered their text books and papers across the floor.  I possessed no more energy to join in, or to laugh or comment, but it was comforting enough just listening to them.  There was still a certain level of tension though.  You couldn’t escape it.  It was there in the way that Billy and Jake glanced at each other a lot, as if passing messages not meant for me.  It was there in the way they seemed to pause or hesitate before they spoke, as if fearful of saying the wrong thing.  Their laughs seemed planned, and hollow.  Michael was tense for different reasons, I realized. Because he was desperate for things to go well, for us all to get along, for things to be as good as they used to be.  The only one who seemed truly and totally relaxed, was Lucy.  I held onto her tightly and she held me back.  When Slide Away came on, I squeezed her tighter and whispered the lyrics into her ear, making her giggle and blush; now that you’re mine, we’ll find a way, of chasing the sun….let me be the one, who shines with you….in the morning we don’t know what to do…Two of a kind, we’ll find a way, to do what we’ve done…oh let me be the one who shines with you and we can slide away….She laughed and she kissed me on the cheek, and we were shut off from the rest of them then. “You’re crazy…” she breathed into my ear. I grinned. Pressed my lips up to her ear.

“Don’t know, don’t care, all I know is that you take me there!”

“Me too,” she whispered. “Me too Danny.”

57

 

 

By Monday morning I felt better.  I was alright again.  Michael packed up his school bag and went off to meet the others.  Anthony cooked me this huge breakfast with bacon, sausages, eggs, the works and came and sat on the sofa beside me while I tucked in.  My stomach had finally stopped hurting, and it was a massive relief.  At one point I knew I had been completely convinced that I was dying, that whatever I had taken had been slowly killing me from the inside out.  But Anthony had all the answers apparently.  “Bad drugs, no food,” he said, counting them off on his fingers, while his eyes rested on mine, dark and solemn, and looking into me as if he knew and understood everything.  He reached across to me then, and lifted up the edge of my t-shirt. I was alarmed, and swatted his hand away instantly, but he made a face that told me he already knew, had already seen. “Couple of right hooks to the stomach.” He shrugged, telling me it was simple and obvious. “No wonder you were in pain mate. I’m surprised you were able to walk!” I said nothing.  I just stared right back at him, and he passed me a cigarette and lit it for me.  I put my half-finished breakfast down on the floor and inhaled slowly, deeply.  “We need to talk,” he said softly.  He was still staring at the edge of my t-shirt and his expression was reluctant and pained.  I didn’t want to talk to him, not really.  Just sitting next to him was torturous, knowing what I knew. “I saw when you were out cold,” he went on. “So it’s still going on?  When he gets mad or wants to lash out at someone?  And your mum, she doesn’t know?”

I smoked the cigarette, my eyes on the floor.  Anthony sighed and stretched his legs out in front of him.  I didn’t know what he wanted me to say.  What could I say?  Yeah, things are bad, worse than you know, but look what happened the last time you tried to help me?  I glanced at the door then, remembering that Howard was out there, hunting me down as we spoke.  “Those other marks Danny,” Anthony said, nudging me with his elbow. “Cigarette burns, aren’t they?”

I looked right at him then.  My bottom lip trembled so I bit down on it hard.  “You can’t get involved Anthony,” I told him sharply. “I mean it Anthony. You can’t get involved. You only just got back out. You have to stay out of it.  Stay out of everything.”

“You’re right,” he said to me, smiling gently. “I shouldn’t get involved. I told Howard that much when he hammered on the door last night, looking for you. You know, he asked if I’d learnt my lesson, how do you like that? I told him I had. I told him it pays to mind your own business these days.”

“Yeah,” I nodded at him.  “That’s right.”

“It’s not right,” he disagreed. “And I can’t do that.  I can’t ever do that.”  I swallowed and glanced at the door again.  I thought about getting up and running out, getting away from him before it was too late.  My legs felt weak though, so I dragged on my smoke and tapped the ash against the ashtray when Anthony held it out to me.

“You have to,” I told him then, and when I looked at him I just hoped and prayed that he could see it there in my eyes, how deadly fucking serious I was. “I’m serious Anthony. You don’t know what he’s capable of. Do you want Michael to end up hurt?  Or worse?  He’s threatened it you know, and he has people that can do it, he told me.” I licked my dry lips and my hand shook as I lifted the cigarette back to my mouth.  Anthony sat forward, waiting for me to say more.  “I’m fucking serious,” I nodded at him.  “I wouldn’t joke about this, but Mike could end up dead if you mess with Howard, if you piss him off again. I’ve got to go.  I shouldn’t even be here, it’ll get you all in trouble.”  I stubbed out the cigarette and started to push up from the sofa, but Anthony was having none of it.  He caught my arm and eased me gently back down.

“Don’t be silly, you’re not going anywhere yet.  Sit back down.”

I sagged back into the sofa wearily, pressing my hands against my face for a moment and groaning softly behind them.  “Just stay a minute yeah?” he said to me. “Just talk with me a minute. He doesn’t know you’re here.”

I nodded and shrugged and dropped my hands down onto my knees.  “We said we hadn’t seen you,” he told me. “And I think he believed me.  I said you and Mike don’t even hang about together anymore, and he seemed to swallow it.  But Mike says that’s pretty much true anyway, yeah?”  I shrugged again. “Such a shame.  You’re such good mates.  He’d do anything for you, you know?”

“I don’t want him to get hurt,” I said, staring at nothing. “He lost you for an entire year, because of me.”

“No, not because of you, you idiot, because of Howard and possibly this other fucker Freeman. Tell me about him.  What’s his name? Where’d he come from? Who is he?”

“Friend of Howards.  From way back.”

“Jack Freeman, right?”  I nodded in reply. “So what’s he like?”

“He’s alright,” I said. “He’s nothing like Howard, I mean. He just lets us hang out at his flat and listen to music and stuff.  Most the time he isn’t even there.”

“Okay,” Anthony said slowly, nodding at me.  “So he lets you come to his flat and listen to music and smoke weed and stuff?  Okay, but why, why would he do all that?”

I could feel the force of indignation and suspicion behind his gaze, and I shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. “I dunno,” I replied. “I dunno why people do things.”

“You should think about it Danny.  He’s Howards friend right?  Doesn’t that seem weird to you in any way? Does Howard know he gets you drugs and stuff?”

“No,” I shook my head quickly. “That’s why someone else sold me speed on Friday, ‘cause Jack thinks Howard is getting suspicious or something.  He thinks he’ll throw him out.”

“Throw him out? So what, he’s in Howards flat is he?”

“Hmm, I dunno.  Must be.”

“See, weird?”  Anthony sounded almost pleased I thought.  “He lets this guy move in his old flat, and suddenly this guy is palling around with you, giving you drugs and shit. Does that not seem weird to you Danny?  Do you not see what they’re doing?” I stared at the floor again, my mouth tight and my nostrils working.  I knew he spoke sense, and I could see what he was doing, putting all the pieces of the puzzle together in his own mind, and his dark eyes were alive with knowing and this fierce kind of energy.  “Who sold you the speed on Friday then?  Who was that?  You remember his name?”

“Jaime someone,” I told him with a sigh.  “Skinny guy, about your age.”

“I know of a Jaime about my age,” he said, talking faster and louder. “He’s one of the Lawlers, they’re this terrible fucking family of losers on the Somerley estate. Jaime is a bit older than me, but one of his brothers was in my class at school. Bunch of crackheads and criminals. Makes sense they’d have someone like him on board.”

“Look Anthony, I really better get going, if he comes back here or sees me leaving…”

“Hang on, we need to figure this out. When did Freeman show up here?  Can you remember?”

Of course I could remember that.  That day was etched inside my mind forever.  Me hiding behind the sofa, while they talked and laughed and enjoyed the spectacle of Anthony’s arrest from the bathroom window.  I felt horrible and sick inside.  I wanted to go.  I didn’t know how he could bear to be near me. “It was the day you got arrested,” I said then, and even as I spoke the words I wondered what the fuck I was doing, giving him that information. His eyes were glowing and his body was tensed up beside mine.  The bad memories were trying to get back into my head, angry memories from that day, knocking on the window of my mind like petulant ghosts.  I didn’t want to think about any of it.  To be honest, all I really wanted to do right then, was go and get stoned somewhere.  “I came back from the base,” I said, not looking at Anthony. “I fell asleep in the lounge and when I woke up I heard Howard and this guy…Jack. I could hear sirens and stuff.  I hid.  I didn’t know what the hell was going on.  Then Jack left.  And Howard found me.”

Anthony shifted restlessly on the sofa, and for a moment he covered his mouth with both of his hands.  “I’ve got to think,” he spoke through his fingers. “I’ve got to be so careful.”

“You think it will happen again?” I asked him. “I mean, if they got rid of you like that once, they can do it again, right?” I looked at him and my mouth was sucked free of moisture.  Anthony looked back at me.

“It was them,” he said firmly. “You know that, don’t you?”

I nodded.  I felt sick inside.  I wanted to cry. “He told me.  He told me he got rid of you and he’d do the same to anyone else that stuck their nose in. That’s why you’ve got to stay out of it Anthony, you have  to.  You can’t do anything, Anthony, you really can’t. Mike can’t lose you again!”  I bowed my head, unable to look him in the eye any longer.  The tears were swimming, threatening to fall.  I sniffed. “I’m sorry Anthony.  I’m so, so sorry.”

Anthony twisted to face me and clamped his hand down onto my shoulder. “You can’t let it drag you down,” he told me fiercely. “You listen to me.  It wasn’t your fault.  Not any of it.  Okay?”

“Michael lost you for a year, because of me…you were locked up!  Because of me.”

“Because of Howard, not you. And possibly because of this other guy.”

“I feel so shit about it…If you hadn’t tried to help me, if I hadn’t told you anything…”

“Listen to me, I stuck up for you because I like you okay?  I’d do the same for anyone in that situation.  I couldn’t stand the thought of that fucking gorilla giving you a hard time. Okay, I’ll admit I had no idea who the fuck I was messing with…but that’s not your fault right? None of this is your fault Danny.” He stared right into my eyes and did not flinch. He stared at me until I nodded back miserably.  “You’ve got to listen to me mate, or all this is gonna’ drag you down and finish you off, I mean, look what the fuck’s happened to you in a year!  You look a mess mate.  You look like you don’t give a shit about anything.  You have to understand something, alright.  They’re the adults, you are the kid, so none of this, fucking none of it is your fault.  That man is evil.  And I’ll bet we don’t even know the half of it.”

I managed to smile and nod at him.  There was a sort of lightness filling me slowly.  Just knowing that he did not hate or blame me, was an amazing feeling.  I felt a little bit like I had been untethered, set free. “Okay,” I told him. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he replied, getting to his feet. “We’re up to our necks in it.  But we’ve got to figure something out, bring them down somehow.  But he can’t know we’re up to anything.  He can’t know anything or we’re fucked. Maybe we start digging around a bit, yeah?  Play detective.  Play it smart.  I got one idea already.”

“What?”

“I’ll track down Lawler. If he’s who I think he is he won’t be too hard to find.  He knows me.  Might be able to score some grass off him and get him talking.”

The thought of it flooded me with fear.  I shook my head. “Anthony…”

“Don’t worry about it, don’t even think about it,” he commanded me. “All you have to do is keep your head down and stay off them drugs, yeah? You’ll feel better then.  More with it.  You’ll be useful to us then.  So no more silly stuff, alright?  Because all you’re doing is playing right into their hands, you know.  They’ve had an easy ride for a year, if you think about it.  Me inside. You apart from your mates, and drugged up out your mind, not questioning anything, not fighting back.” He laughed a little then and gave me a playful punch in the shoulder. “What about that eh? You forgot about all that didn’t you? Fighting back Danny.  The old Danny eh?  The boy Mike was always telling me about, getting arrested at school for fighting!  Giving people hell.  What happened to him eh? We need him back man.  You gotta’ get him back.”

After lunch Anthony announced that he was going to have a bath.  “Do all my best thinking in there,” he grinned.  He had been up there for twenty minutes or so, when I decided to leave.   I should have told him, or called up to him, but I didn’t.  I thought he would try to stop me.  I couldn’t stay there a minute longer.  I’d been growing jumpier by the second, thinking about Howard, still storming around out there looking for me.  So I walked to Jacks, and I took the long way around so that no one would see me.

I walked with my head lowered and my hands in my pockets.  The Smiths were playing on my Walkman now.  It was the kind of song that made me want to wallow in sadness and despair, and that was pretty much what washed over me as I walked. Park the car at the side of the road, you should know, that time’s tide will smother you, and I will too, when you laugh at people who feel so very lonely, they’re only desire is to die… I heard children laughing, and I realized that I had just ploughed carelessly through a whole bunch of them on the pavement.  I guessed they were heading to the fish and chip shop for their lunch.  One of them called out to me, and I pulled the headphones down curiously.  “Danny?”

It was Higgs.  Eddie Higgs.  He was in the middle of the group, and he was staring back at me, his expression wondering, a slow smile lifting his lips.  It was weird looking at him.  My old adversary, the boy who had been the cause of so many of those explosive fights with my mother.  I felt a detached kind of curiosity, nothing more, but it made me realize then that Anthony was right.  I wasn’t the same boy anymore.  I was a shell.  An imprint of what I once was.  I saw him smiling and nudging the other kids, and then I suddenly felt horribly aware of the clothes I had been wearing since Friday, and of how awful I must look.  I couldn’t bear to see any trace of satisfaction on his face, so I turned quickly and kept walking.  I pulled my headphones back on so I would not have to listen to their laughter following me down the pavement.

I let myself into Jack’s flat with the key he had given me.  He was home.  Slumped in one of the tatty sofas, whiskey in one hand, a fat cigar in the other.  He was watching Countdown.  I paused at the door, my head suddenly full of Anthony’s questions, and Jack and I eyed each other warily across the room.  He puffed on his cigar.  “Well you look like hell,” he said finally.  I shrugged at him.

“That guy sold me something bad.  I’ve had the worst comedown ever.”

Jack merely chuckled at me. “Bit dramatic ain’t it? No such thing as bad stuff mate, you just probably took too much. Just ask Jaime for some downers next time.  Take the edge off when you come back down.”

I shook my head and walked across the lounge and into the kitchen to put the kettle on.  “I’m not touching any of that stuff ever again,” I said. He laughed again from the sofa.

“Whatever you say kid.  It’s your life.”

I located the kettle and filled it with water.  The area around the sink was cluttered and overcrowded with dirty plates and cups, and piled high with takeaway wrappers and containers.  The window was closed, holding the unique smell of boozy sweat and chicken tikka masala hostage in the airless room.  I shuddered and wondered what the fuck I was doing back there.  Why had my legs walked me there like some kind of robot, instead of walking me somewhere decent, like the record shop, or to Lucy?  I found the cup I always used, the cracked cream one with the black Labrador on the side.  The teabags lived in a metal tin next to the kettle. I rummaged around in it, found one in the dust at the bottom and dropped it into my cup.  I took the milk from the fridge, checked the date on the side and then sniffed it just to be sure.  I heard Jack clear his throat of phlegm.

“Lee’s looking for you, you know,” he called out. “You’re meant to be at home he reckons, seeing some people to do with school?”

I’d forgotten all about that.  I folded my arms in the doorway and waited for the kettle to boil. “He wasn’t very happy with me all weekend. I was in a total mess.”

“You just need downers.  Told you.”

“No.  Never again.”

“You won’t be wanting this back then?” He had picked up my little tin from the coffee table.  He waved it back and forth in the air. I rolled my eyes, went to make my tea, and then carried it into the lounge and sat down on the sofa.  Before he could say anything else, I picked up my tin and shoved it into my pocket.  He laughed out loud.  I stared at the TV.

“This is Howard’s place, right?”

I felt his eyes turn on me, measuring my question. “Yeah, it is yeah.”

“You rent it off him then?”

“That would be the name of the arrangement, yes young man. Why the sudden interest?”  I looked his way to see that ever present soft smile upon his lips and I felt immediately stupid.  I had said too much, too soon.  We never really talked much, so I had to be careful not to make him suspicious.  So I drank my tea for a while, saying nothing. When Jack poured himself another whiskey, he grabbed the rim of an empty glass sitting on the table and filled that one as well.  He passed it to me, and I took it without even thinking about it.  It was just habit, that’s all. Sitting there with him, getting wasted.  I couldn’t deny the urge was as strong as ever.

“Would Howard kill you if he knew about the speed and shit?” I ventured some time later when the whiskey had stoked up my bravado, and my curiosity.  Jack turned his calm eyes upon me again.

“Who knows?” he replied with a sigh. “But it’s the thought of your mother finding out that terrifies me the most.”

“So why do you then?”

“Why do I what?”

“Why do you sell it to me?”

“I don’t.  Not anymore.”

“But you have,” I argued. “You did, until Friday.”  I knew I was pressing him, pushing him too far, but I felt desperate and impatient.  I wanted something, anything to take back to Anthony, so that he would not have to risk going out to look for it himself.

“Look,” Jack sighed again. “I’m one of those people, right.  I don’t give a shit what other people do, as long as it don’t bother me, right?  Live and let live and all that.  Take it if you wanna’ take it, don’t if you don’t, it’s no skin off my nose either way.  I was just trying to be friendly that’s all.”

“And now you’re worried that Howard would be mad?  If he knew about it?”

Jack stared at me then, and his eyes were narrowed and he ran his tongue slowly over his lower lip before he broke out into a smile again.  “I think you need to look at yourself Danny,” he advised. “No one forced you to take anything, not once.  If you don’t want to do things, then don’t.  It’s your life buddy.  But I never heard you complaining about any of it until now, so what’s changed?  One bad comedown?”

“Howard doesn’t know?” I asked him once more.  I had finished the whiskey and I was aware that it had loosened my tongue.  I felt like I was walking along a tightrope, trying to keep my balance, while certain death waited for me on either side.  I could sense the danger in the air and I understood it.

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Jack said. “He’ll be here any minute.”

The air in a room always seemed to alter when Howard walked in.  It smelled different and it clung to the skin.  I accepted another measure of whiskey from Jack and waited for the inevitable.  I thought about leaving, getting up and getting out, but where could I go?  Not back to Anthony.  I couldn’t risk leading them back there.  My mind wandered helplessly as I sat there.  What was to stop them setting Anthony up again?  If they had done it once, surely they could do it again?  When Howard finally arrived, he did not knock or use a key, he just strode on in as if he owned the place, which I remembered, he actually did.  He walked in big angry strides and tossed his car keys onto the glass topped coffee table with a bang that made me jump.  He stood like a tree, legs spread and head cocked. “Where the fuck have you been?” he demanded. “I’ve been everywhere looking for you.  You’ve not been at the record shop, or at Billy’s. You better not have been with those Andersons.” He raised his eyebrows at me questioningly. “’Cause I thought I already fucking warned you about that.”

“I wasn’t there,” I said. “I’ve been ill.”

“Yeah and that’s your own fucking fault! Don’t expect any sympathy off me!”

“True,” I nodded, glancing at Jack. “But it’s also his fault.”

Both men were staring at me now.  I didn’t really know what I was doing, or saying.  I thought maybe they would kill me.  Maybe they would just laugh at me.  But I had to get something from them, anything to make things a little clearer.  Howard nodded at the door then. “Come on,” he said. “The truants officer and a teacher are on the way over.”

“You don’t really want me to speak to them,” I said, and my voice was a whisper, but they still heard it alright.  I swallowed nervously as my throat began to tighten, warding off the oxygen it needed to breathe.  Howard looked intrigued.

“Don’t I?”

“I might have to tell them the truth about why I keep missing school,” I shrugged and glanced between them.  I suddenly felt horribly small and vulnerable sat there with both of them staring at me.  But I could definitely see the anxiety in their eyes, and as scared as I was, it pleased me and it was obvious, I thought.  Howard knew, and he did not want to talk about it.  Anthony was right.

“Come on, let’s go,” he said coldly.  I rose up from the sofa.

“So you don’t mind that Jack deals me drugs then?” I don’t even know where the courage to ask the question came from, but there it was.  And all Howard did was head to the door.

“What you two get up to is your business,” he snapped. “I told you already, Just don’t fucking do it in my house.”

“Okay,” I said, as we left the flat.  “I get it.” We headed down the corridor and down the flight of stairs, and I felt this little throb of fire burning in my gut.  I wanted to smile, and I wished that Anthony could have seen me then.  We walked out into the sunshine and towards Howard’s car, and I was just about to ask him what mum would think if I showed her my little tin and told her all about Jack, when Howard slipped an arm around my shoulders. He pulled me into his side.

“You can tell your mum, and these other people whatever the fuck you want,” he told me, as a thin cold smile stretched out his lips.  “But if I were you I would think about what happens to you next.  ‘Cause I know for a fact your mum is on the edge, as far as you’re concerned. It’s only me that keeps talking her out of getting you put into care, you know. So you think what happens if they all know about your drug habits.  Kicked out of school probably.  Arrested again if the cops are called in. Third offence right?  So you’d be up in court little man, with a pretty colourful record going ahead of you.  All I have to do is suggest care would be a better place for you, and she’d jump at it mate.  I’m telling you.”

He unlocked the car and opened the passenger side for me.  He nodded down at the seat, so I slid in and stared back up at him with slumped shoulders.  He grinned and leaned towards me, a glint in his eyes as he spun his car keys on one finger.  “Do you know what happens to boys your age when they go into care?” he asked and waited for an answer.  I just stared back at him and shook my head, as the heaviness of despair came crushing down on me yet again.  My mouth had gone dry, and my fire had gone out, and I already knew that I would not be telling anyone anything today.  “Pretty boys like you?” He was laughing at me now, licking his lips hungrily and revealing those neat rows of teeth.  “Let’s just say, you’d get a very warm welcome Danny, do you get my drift?  My brother found that out the hard way when he was a naughty little shit stain.  My parents sent him to a place like that, so I know.  You’d be eaten alive mate.  A little blue eyed kid like you. You’d be their fucking pet.” He laughed out loud, slammed the door shut and walked around to his side.  He climbed in, still laughing, and turned the key in the ignition.  Then he slapped my thigh briskly and winked at me when I looked at him. “There’s something for you to think about anyway kiddo.  That, and the fucking shit that will come down on those Anderson cunts if you ever threaten me again.” His eyes burned down, his lips tight and small, all humour dissolved now, nothing but violent promise behind those eyes. “Now shut the fuck up and be a good boy like I told you to be.”

56

I was in a mess all weekend.  I could not eat, although my mother brought up tray after tray of food that just turned my stomach over inside of me.  I smoked jittery cigarettes out of the window, and gulped warm whiskey when no one was looking.  I felt terrible, like my body and my soul had been wrung out, twisted and distorted.  Everything hurt.  I felt nervous and on edge, unable to pinpoint exactly why it felt like the sky was about to come crashing down upon all of us. I couldn’t concentrate on anything for more than a minute.  I pulled my duvet over my head and shivered in the darkness for the entire day, sporadically breaking down into tears for no reason.  My mum came in and out, and she was always crying too, and demanding to know what the hell was wrong with me, and should she call the doctor?  I felt my mouth stuffed full of a million things I would never be able to tell her and it felt like I was slowly choking on them, and it was too late, it was all too late.  I could always see the shadow of Howard behind her, and I knew that all was lost, that everything was over.  I became utterly convinced in my paranoia that they had done this to me on purpose.  Jack and the guy in the baseball cap.  They’d sold me something rotten and poisoned and now it was eating away at me from the insides.  And Howard, he was behind it, he was behind everything!  He was the puppet master, controlling us all!  He had decided chopping me up would be too messy, that poison was a far easier way to get rid of me.    I was engulfed in this terrible blackness and could see no way out.  The only solution I could think of was going to find the guy in the baseball cap and buying something else from him, something that would put me right, but I couldn’t move, I was too terrified to leave the house.

Saturday night I slept badly.  I became certain that there were dark people hiding within every shadow in my room.  Howards people.  Watching over me.  Keeping tabs, in case I thought about escaping.  I hid under my duvet, trembling, hoping they would not find me there.  On Sunday morning I woke up feeling really sick.  My stomach kept lurching and heaving, and my mouth kept filling with hot, yellow saliva, but there was nothing in my stomach to bring up.  Howard came up to see me when my mother left the house.  He seized me by the neck and breathed his fiery rage into my sweating face.  “Whatever drugs you’ve got yourself fucked up on, you better not bring it here again!” He released my neck and I sobbed my tears into the duvet.  He stalked my room like a tiger in a cage. “Your mother does not need to see this sort of thing! She does not need the stress! We’ll have to ask for help if this carries on, we’ll have to get the social involved.  They have places for fucked up boys like you, you know.  Kind of like prisons.  I did warn you, didn’t I? I’ve warned you so many times how close she is to giving up on you!”

“I have to get out,” I croaked then, rising slowly up from the bed and testing out the floor with my feet.  I stood up, stiff and half crippled by the bruising to my middle, but I had suddenly remembered something, something really important. Something that started to fill me up with an almost unbearable level of hope. “Get some fresh air.”

“Good idea,” said Howard, folding his big arms across his chest. “Don’t come back until you are straight and then I want you to apologize to your mother.”

“I will, I will,” I chanted this gladly, pulling on the nearest jumper. “I’ll give you guys some peace, stay at a friends yeah? I am never touching that shit again, not ever.” I pulled the jumper down and stared at Howard seriously. “I mean it.”

He laughed at me, bright and hard.  He rolled his head on his neck.  “Yeah well little man, we’ll see about that won’t we?  We’ll see about that.”

I put on my headphones and ran all the way to the beach.  I don’t know where I found the energy or the strength, but it was there somewhere, lurking in my bones, swirling to life when I needed it, setting me on fire.  The music helped.  It always fucking helped. Liam’s voice was in my ears, as I ran and ran, as fast as I could, my stomach in my mouth, my guts churning as a desperate panic flooded my veins. Maybe I will never be, all the things that I wanna’ be! Now is not the time to cry, now’s the time to find out why!  I think you’re the same as me, we see things they’ll never see!  You and I are gonna’ live forever!  I was late and I knew it, so I ran faster and faster, gonna’ live forever…we’re gonna’ live forever…gonna’ live forever…I was late, she would have gone, she would have got up and walked away by now, she would have gone and given up on me like everyone else.  When I made it to the cliff top, I took the path down too quickly, nearly tripping over my own feet several breath taking times.  At the bottom, I stopped and scanned the beach.  I could not see her in the normal spot.  I walked out onto the sand, and my legs felt fucked, like they were giving up the game, calling time, saying no, no, no more. I bent down, clutching my knees with my hands, scooping air back into my lungs as my chest rose and fell rapidly.  When I looked up, I saw Michael, standing just behind me, leaning against one of the beach huts.  My mouth fell open and I gawked at him.  He wasn’t really there.  He couldn’t be.  I was hallucinating now.

“You looking for Lucy?” he called out to me, and I nodded my head silently, dumbstruck, wondering if I was going crazy. I felt wrapped up tight in misery and darkness and I knew none of this was real.  I was back in my bed and I was dying.  “At the shop,” he said, and jerked his thumb in the direction of the beach café and shop just to the right. I stared that way, and sure enough, there she was.  A slim, brown haired girl coming out of the shop with a plastic carrier bag swinging from one hand.  She saw me and she waved and beckoned.  I thought she was an angel, a real life angel.  I looked once more at Michael, who was fading out now, and then I looked back at her and started to run again.

When I finally reached her, I could barely stand. I was wiped out.  The run from home had taken everything I had.  There was nothing left.  It was all too much, and I collided with her, our bodies smashing together violently, and we fell down onto the sand together, and I saw her bottle of water fall from the bag and roll away.  Her eyes were alarmed and she touched my face and pulled me close. “Are you real?” I was asking her.  I could see Michael again. He was standing over us. “Are you both real?”  I buried my head in her shoulder and started to cry.  There was no stopping it.  I cried like a baby.  My face began to ache and my eyes stung and my throat grew raw, as my shoulders shook, and still I could not stop, I could not stop crying.  But it didn’t matter anyway, I thought.  It was a dream, and I was dreaming about them, and I was back in my bed, and just dying.  Lucy just held onto me, and Michael was saying something softly above our heads.

“Shittinghell mate.  Shittinghell.”

In the dream, they got me up and helped me walk.  They sounded alarmed and frightened and Michael kept saying; “get him to Anthony, get him to Anthony.”  I tried to tell them things as we walked, and I sung some lyrics at them for a while.  My feet felt thick and heavy when we stumbled in through the front door, and Anthony appeared like another angel, bright and tall and calm and resolute and he got me onto the sofa and told them to give me some space.

I was awful by then.  Just shaking violently, my face screwed up in pain.  “Alright take it easy,” he was saying to me.  I couldn’t open my eyes and look at him, I just couldn’t.  “What’s all this about then Danny?  Eh? What you been doing to yourself mate?” He squatted down beside the sofa, his hand touching my arm.  I curled up small, my knees drawn up to my chin, my arms wrapped tightly around my middle.  “Danny, what was it eh?  What you been taking mate?  Was it speed?”

I managed to nod, although I wasn’t exactly sure if this was true.  It was poison, I wanted to tell him, it was poison because they were trying to kill me.  “We should call a doctor,” Lucy said tearfully from across the room. “He’s ill!”

“Nah, he’ll be alright,” Anthony replied calmly, rubbing my back. “It’s a bad comedown.  Speed is the worst.  If he took too much, or if someone sold him something dodgy.”

“But he’s in pain!”

“He’ll be okay soon enough, you’ll see.  It can take a few days sometimes. Danny, you should leave that shit alone mate.  I’m serious.  Not worth it eh, is it?  Look at the fucking state of you.”

“I did it with him once,” came Michael’s voice, tense and guilty.

“Well it better only be once!” Anthony snapped back at him. “I’ve told you before Mikey, grass is the only safe thing to mess with, and only then not too much.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I suppose I was just curious.”

“And?”

“Not worth it,” Michael said adamantly. “Felt like shit the next day.  Wanted to take someone’s head off.”

I heard Anthony sighing beside me. “Well learn your lessons boys,” he said. “This is fucking outrageous. These people are evil. He’s gonna’ get himself killed!”

“What’re we gonna’ do?” asked Michael in a small voice.

Anthony sighed again. “Right,” he said. “Make some tea and toast. Get him to eat and drink.  Then he’ll feel better.  Then just keep him here until he’s straight again.”

“What about Howard? What if they come looking for him?”

“We haven’t seen him.  And I answer the door. Might as well let him know I’m back again. But he can’t know we’ve seen Danny. He can’t know we’re involved, got it?”

A short while later I opened my eyes, and only Anthony was there.  He was sat on the edge of the sofa, right next to me.  He smiled down at me and placed his hand on my shoulder.  “You’re back,” I croaked at him.  He nodded.

“Fucking right I am.  Time flies, eh?  Now I’m back, you don’t need to worry okay?  You don’t need to be doing all this shit again.”

I had to close my eyes again.  The pain was coming and going in waves. “Ahhh shit it hurts…” I moaned, pressing my face back into the cushion.

“It’s okay, just relax,” he told me. “When did you take it?”

“Hurts…”

“I know mate, I know.”

“Anthony?”

He leaned over me. “What is it mate?”

I wanted to tell him everything then.  I wanted to tell him all the things Howard had said, and threatened, about how he ended up back in jail, about Michael disappearing, about killing my mum.  I opened my mouth and struggled to bring the words up and out, but the pain got worse again, ripping through my stomach muscles. “It’s in my stomach!” I panted, curling up even tighter. He rubbed my back again.  “It’s in my stomach Anthony…they poisoned me…it’s in there and it’s killing me!”

“It’ll get better,” he told me very firmly. “You just have to remember this Danny. Remember how bad this is and never fucking do it again, alright? Who gave it to you eh? This Freeman bloke Mike’s been telling me all about?”

“Someone else…” I shook my head. “It’s all gone in my stomach…I can feel it..it’s killing me Anthony…”

“It’s not killing you, I promise you. You’re just coming down really badly. You took too much probably, and you haven’t been eating properly by the look of you.  You’ve just got a bad stomach and the comedown is making it worse. You’ll be alright, I promise you. Just eat and drink something. Look, Mike’s made you toast.”

I didn’t want to eat anything, but they made me.  They got really angry with me and practically forced me, so I gave in.  I ate half a slice of marmite toast and drank half a cup of tea.  It hurt even more after that, but Anthony had little sympathy left. “You’ll be alright you little twat,” he laughed and patted my back. “You’ll be just fine.”

I slept after that.  It was a beautiful thing.  Deep, black sleep that claimed me suddenly and blessedly.  Every now and then I rose up out of it, felt the pain subsiding, and slipped back under again.  I was warm and safe and watched over.  I could hear the TV on low, and the murmurs of their gentle voices.  I was out cold when Howard came banging on the door, demanding to know where I was.

55

 

It was kind of horrible knowing that Anthony was back.  I showed my true cowardly colours and stayed away.  I knew neither of them would come to the house with Howard around, so I was safe.  I took a few days off school, and spied on them from the bathroom window.  If I stood on the toilet and cracked open the top window, I could see their house.  I watched the day he arrived back home, in the back of a yellow taxi, with his mother in the front.  Michael burst out of the front door to receive him.  I held my breath and bit my lip and watched them, and wondered if I would ever tell them I had been there.  I felt like I was sharing the moment with them.  Michael threw himself at his brother and they stood like that on the front path, locked and still.  I could see Michael’s black hair waving about in the wind.  Anthony had his head lowered on top of his.  Mrs Anderson paid the taxi driver and carried two bags into the house.  They all went inside together, Michael with his arm around Anthony’s waist, and then the door closed on me.

I knew he would call me soon after and I was right.  The phone rang in the hallway while I was still in the bathroom.  I came out onto the landing and saw Howard stood there, a strange look upon his face.  “They hung up,” he said, and he started coming up the stairs towards me.  “Funny that.”  He nodded to the open bathroom window.  “Close that, you’re letting all the cold in.”

I turned around, walked back into the bathroom and reached up to pull the window shut.  He made his move then, while I had my back to him, his fist shooting into my kidneys.  I grunted and hit the floor, pain exploding right up the back of me. He used his cowboy boot to push me over onto my back, and so I lay there and stared up at him, dazed and numb. “I wouldn’t think about going over there if I were you,” he said, his voice a dreamy drawl, his beady eyes all glassy. “That man’s a criminal. People like that never change. He’ll be up to no good again before long.  You stay away, right?” I nodded back at him.  I wanted to tell him that Anthony was no criminal.  I wanted to scream up at him to leave them alone, to never go near them again.  He held his hand out to me, and I took hold of it reluctantly and let him pull me up to my feet.  “Good boy,” he said, and patted the back of my neck.  There was a loose and drowsy smile upon his face, and his eyes looked far away.  “Washing machine’s just finished,” he said. “Your mum is at the hair salon. Go and get it out on the line while it’s sunny, yeah.”

I did what he said, but when it was done, I ran back up the stairs and back to the bathroom window.  I stood there and watched for hours, and if I heard Howard or my mother, I would just flush the toilet and come back out.  Towards the end of the day I saw them all out the front.  Anthony was leaning against the wall and lighting up a cigarette.  Michael had his hands in his pockets, and this endless burning smile upon his face.  Jake and Billy were there, laughing and grinning, all of them chatting animatedly.  It put this pain inside of me which grew and grew, and it was far worse than the blow to my kidneys.  I was completely on the outside, and Howard had made it very clear that I needed to keep it that way.  They looked like they were heading back inside, but at the last moment Anthony stopped and stared right back up at my house.  I was sure he couldn’t see me.  But he smiled.

I avoided school and kept my distance.  Billy showed his face after school one day, looking all nervous and jumpy as I relented and let him in the back door. “Mike’s worried about you,” he hissed at me, his freckled hands tightly gripping the strap of his school bag, as his eyes shot about the kitchen anxiously.  Howard and my mother were in the lounge watching TV.  I shrugged at him, conveying my confusion.  He rolled his eyes. “You’re not at school,” he said. “You can’t be sick all the time. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I said. “How’s Anthony?”

“Fine,” he grinned then, his shoulder relaxing slightly. “He wants to see you, you dufus, but he can’t come over here can he? What about you meet us at the base, or the beach or something?”

I thought about it for a moment.  I wondered if any of them knew that Lucy and I met at the beach, every Sunday without fail, and had done since the day of my mothers wedding.  It was a secret, though I didn’t exactly know why it was.  “I’ll try,” I said, just to appease him.  He shook his head a little, looked like he wanted to say more, but then decided against it.  I didn’t feel the same around Billy and Jake anymore, and I had a hunch that it was a mutual thing.  They didn’t know what to say to me half the time.  They didn’t like to smoke weed anymore. Jake was always busy, rushing from school to his job, and then to his flat to get his schoolwork done.  He was taking it all very seriously, I suppose, life and school and work and getting somewhere.  I wondered he thought I would drag him down somehow.  He was pensive in my presence, and gave me the feeling that he was biting his tongue the entire time, not telling me what he really thought.  It’s all coming to an end, I thought, and said goodbye to Billy.

Two days later I had to go back to school.  I went in alone, as ever.  Headphones on, eyes down.  I didn’t get very far across the playground before Michael caught up with me, grabbing my elbow and bundling me away from everyone else.  I caught a glimpse of Jake and Billy lingering in the background, hands in pockets and expressions cautious. Michael held onto my arm and looked very serious, so I pulled off my headphones. “Alright?”

“We know why you haven’t been around, but that’s fine,” he said to me.

“Right.  Okay.”

“Look, Anthony wants to see you, he needs to see you, I’ve filled him in on everything!” I frowned at him and started walking again. He walked with me.

“What’s everything?”

“You know, Howard marrying your mum, buying the house and the entire club, and about the way Freeman turned up exactly the day Anthony was set up.” Michael glanced over his shoulder at Billy and Jake who were following from a safe distance.  “It’s all very convenient, don’t you think? And then Howard keeps you away from us, and Freeman gives you drugs and shit, I was telling Anthony, he said for fucks sake, get you over to see him now! He’s really worried about you Danny, really worried. We all need to get together and talk.”

I stopped walking and shoved my hands into my pockets.  I nodded at Billy and Jake. “What’s their problem these days?”

“Hey? Oh shit, forget it, don’t worry. They’re just being babies.  They think you’re always high. I’ve gone mad at them lately.”

“Don’t do me any favours,” I retorted angrily. “Tell ‘em it’s my life and I can do what the fuck I want if it makes me happy.”

Michael was frowning heavily. He shifted his bag from one shoulder to the other and appeared restless and confused. “Forget about that, that’s not important. Anthony wants to see you mate. He doesn’t blame you, you know, not one little bit.  You know that right? He just wants to see you mate, just please, please say you’ll come over or something.”

“It’s not safe to,” I told him.  He opened his mouth to argue, but I put my headphones back on and walked away from him.

That Friday night I felt far away from all of it.  I was at the club, out the back, washing glasses with my shirt sleeves rolled up above my elbows.  Towers of glasses stood next to me, waiting to be dunked into the hot soapy water.  Howard was very particular about the glasses.  He would appear in the kitchen sporadically throughout the night, lifting a wine glass up to the light to check for smears or fingerprints.  My back ached and my hands were sore, but I didn’t care, because all I thought about was the money.  Every now and then someone would yell at me to go out and collect some more, and so I would dry my hands and roll down my sleeves, and go back out into throng of writhing, bustling punters that filled the club.  I would never really see, or notice them, as I slipped between their bodies to retrieve the empties.  They were nothing more than moving, shifting shadows of people, whose voices became lost beneath the thumping music, and whose faces were blurred by the darkness. They were just forms to me, as they bumped and grinded against each other, oblivious to me I moving among them.

The only thing that reached me, the only thing that could sometimes break through, was the music, if the music was good.  I hadn’t given up trying to suggest songs to the Friday night DJ, although most of the time he just rolled his eyes at me and turned away.  That night though, as I reached in between two heavy set men in their twenties to retrieve their pint glasses, I heard the opening chords of Supersonic ripping up the speakers.  It came out of nowhere, taking everyone by surprise, and as the electricity shot down my spine I could feel the people rushing past me to get to the dance floor. I paused and stared at nothing, my eyes bloodshot and huge, my pulse leaping in my veins. The people knew all the words, I need to be myself! They all sung, they all thought it was about them. I can’t be no one else! They jumped about, and the men held their drinks aloft to sneer; you can have it all, but how much do you want it? Pure rock and roll, I thought, utterly dazed by the simplicity of it.

I bobbed my head slowly up and down, mouthing the words to the song I had requested.  And then I felt a presence close behind me, and became dimly aware of someone leaning in towards me.  I felt a warm, rough hand close around my wrist, tugging and pulling me away.  I wanted to resist, because I needed the music, and then I heard Jack’s voice in my ear, raspy and hoarse. “Quick word?”

I felt vague.  I’d had a smoke earlier, and the world looked soft and fuzzy around the edges. I let him tug me along, and I could see him looking at me, sort of squinting down at me, as if he needed glasses but could not be bothered to wear them.  “We’ve got a little problem,” he started to say. “With our arrangement? Think Lee is getting suspicious and that’s no good.” I stared back at his face, trying and failing to absorb what was being said. “You with me?” he asked. “Thing is, I can’t risk him finding out, so I’ve found you another supplier, how’s that? Nothing changes. It’s just you deal with someone else, alright?” The hand on my arm again.  I looked at it in confusion as Jack pushed through the double doors that led out to a small corridor.  The mens toilets were just to one side, and to the other, a winding staircase which led up to the next floor and the womens toilets. Two young men were talking to each other, leaning up against the wall.  When we came through, one of them immediately pulled away and slouched on up the stairs, not looking back.  The other man was thin and wiry, with an England baseball cap pulled down low on his head. He wore pale blue jeans, Adidas trainers and a Ben Sherman shirt.  He nodded at Jack. “Jaime,” said Jack, looking down at me. “Danny, this is Jaime alright mate? He can take care of you, alright?”

I didn’t understand.  Not one little bit.  I just looked blankly from one man to the other. Jack sighed and shook my shoulder a little. “Yeah? Tell Jaime what you need yeah? He’ll sort you out. I need a drink.” He clapped me on the back and left us to it, pushing back through the double doors.

I realized then that my arms were cold, and I wondered if someone had left a window open somewhere, because normally it was so hot in the club, normally it was too hot. Or maybe it was just the air that rushed through every time someone bundled through the doors. I found myself gazing at the black and silver walls, as if I had never really noticed them before.  The young man in the baseball cap leaned towards me in a very conspiring way then, a half smile on his thin lips.  He had a very bony angular face, a bit like a pale rectangle, all sharpness and angles, and his eyes were a murky sea of grey.  “Alright mate?” he asked me, but there was no real interest in those grey eyes.  “Danny yeah?” I nodded at him, because this was something I did know the answer to.  “Bit of whizz?” he asked then, in a far lower tone. “That all you need tonight?”

“Oh shit, yeah,” I said, suddenly finally my voice as I remembered what I had been looking forward to all day. “That’s right, yeah.”

“No problem mate.” He stepped closer to me, until our arms were touching, and then he took my hand and shook it in his, pressing something smooth and plastic against my palm. I grasped it and he pulled back, touched the brim of his cap and winked at me.

“I don’t get paid ‘til later,” I remembered. He slipped his hands into his pockets and shrugged his loose, lanky shoulders at me.

“It’s alright. I’ll still be around later. Tenner yeah?”

“Ten? It’s normally five!”

“Tonight it’s ten, sorry mate,” he said with another loose limbed shrug, as he turned away from me.  “Seeya’ later mate.”

I turned around and pushed my way back into the club. The good song had ended. Some awful banal dance track had replaced it.  I worked my way back through the crowds, picking up glasses, avoiding faces, until I found myself back in the kitchen.  I ran a fresh sink of water, and placed the glasses next to it. Then I took the wrap and pushed myself into the small space between the fridge and the window. I didn’t have any papers on me, so I decided to just lick the powder off the Clingfilm.  I stayed where I was for a few minutes afterwards, and I zoned out, just imagining the speed working its way down through my digestive system.  I was not sure exactly what had just happened out there, but as usual I decided to not pay it much thought. What was the point?  I had what I needed, that was the main thing.

Moments later I felt better.  Brighter.  Quicker.  More with it.  I found my Walkman in my jacket pocket and put it on.  I had a big smile eating up my face while I washed the dishes singing along to Whatever; “I’m freeeeeee, to do whatever I…whatever I choose, and I’ll sing the blues if I want.!  I’m freeeeeee…”

Howard was stressed that night.  I picked up on it as soon as he barged aggressively into the kitchen to find me.  I pulled down the headphones, pressed stop on the Walkman.  His big face was flushed red and rolling with beads of sweat.  He gave me a withering look, his hands on his hips.  “You need to be quicker! I don’t pay you to stand out here fucking dancing!  Get back out there and collect some more! Just had a load go crash out there, fucking glass everywhere!”

“Okay,” I said, realizing that although I had pressed stop, the music was still playing in my head. How amazing was that?  I could still hear those beautiful violins, and it made me sway my head from side to side as I walked.

“What’s the matter with you?” he asked me. I stopped.

“Um, nothing, I’m fine!  I’m fine, and having a good time, why, aren’t you?”

“No,” he said, slowly and darkly. “I’m not as it happens. Are you drunk? You’re acting like you’re drunk. You better not be fucking drunk!”

I couldn’t stand still.  I was trying not to make faces as my feet danced me from one to the other. “I’m not drunk,” I assured him. “I can stay at Jacks tonight yeah?”

“No you can’t,” he shook his head. “Your mum wants you home.”

“Oh. Why?”

“Because she’s had the school on the phone again, complaining that you’re never there!” He pushed his face towards mine as he spoke, and his small eyes seemed to roll around in his head like marbles.  I stared at them, transfixed. “The truants officer and a teacher are coming over at some point to speak to you.  You need to be there.”

“Oh,” I said, attempting a sheepish smile. “Whoops.”

“I haven’t got time to discuss this now,” he snapped then, rubbing the heel of one hand into his shiny forehead. “Get out there and get some more bloody glasses!”

At the end of the night, Jaime Lawler was still hanging about, sat at the bar nursing the dregs of a pint, and keeping his slate grey eyes on me the entire time.  I started to sweat a bit down my end of the bar, where I was gulping coke like I had never known thirst before.  I started to shit myself that Howard wouldn’t pay me as he usually did, and this strange sea-eyed fellow would come loping over to me to demand his money.  Just as I was working up a real shaky little panic about it, Howard passed by and dropped two ten pound notes onto the bar in front of me.  Jaime Lawler lolled forward from his stool, and made his move.  He slid in beside me, and before I even knew what was happening, he had closed his hand over one of the tenners and slid it into his own pocket. I looked at his face and he met my bewildered expression with an eerie smile and faded eyes that peered out from beneath his cap. “Thanks mate,” he said. “Here’s my number if you need anything.” He left a piece of paper on the bar and walked out.

I was still happy and buzzing when I got home and fell into bed.  My mum was nearly always asleep when we got back.  I put my music on low, going for Definitely Maybe yet again, needing to hear it in its entirety after having Supersonic ripped away from me at the club.  Nowhere near sleep, I bounced up and down on my bed like an over excited child.  I felt wired.  Every nerve and cell in my body alive and humming with energy.  My heart beat like a drum in time with the music.  I had about a million really important and intelligent things I wanted to say, to anyone, to everyone!  I decided to write them down, and I wrote and wrote until I had rubbed a blister onto my finger.  I still felt good.  Like the King of Happiness, bouncing around on my bed, playing album after album, just like that.  I devoured every single lyric sung, gobbling them up, along with every note played, every screech of the guitar, every beat of the drum.  I devoured all of it and I felt myself glowing from the inside.

In the morning my mother started rapping urgently at my door, and as I stared at it, and at the sunshine outside my window, and at the piles and piles of loose paper floating around my bed, it dawned on me with slow and nervous horror, that I had not slept at all.  All I could do was stare at the door she pounded on, totally confused, trying to picture myself spread out asleep, or curled up under my duvet, but the pile of tapes on the floor, and the ridiculous amount of paper, told a different story.  I had stayed up all night.  Okay, I reminded myself, it was okay, it was Saturday. I could sleep all day if I wanted.  I would fall asleep at some point, surely I would.  It was just a matter of time, and relaxation.  Stupid me.  I tried to think then, clawing my way back to the moment in the kitchen.  How much had he sold me?  The same amount or more? Had I taken too much?

She came in then, suddenly and intrusively, and she hurt my head with her screeching and wailing, as she moaned on and on about how the truants officer had tracked her down. “Like a criminal!” she was crying at me, her eyes all wet and running.

“I’m not going there anymore!” I decided to tell her then.  I screamed it without meaning to.  I was feeling all desperate and panicky and she was making everything worse.  I wanted her out.  I looked in desperation to the window, and thought seriously about jumping out of it, risking broken legs just to get the hell away from her face.  I was shaking my head and rubbing my eyes, and trying to tell her that it would all be okay if she would just get the fuck out and let me sleep, but that made her worse.  She started wailing and crying really hard, and the noise in my head was so bad it felt like the walls were coming down on me, and I had the constant urge to shield my head with my arms.  I felt like I was going to be buried, so I started throwing things at her.  And then what happened next was mostly a relief, because Howard came storming in blowing out his breath like a bull, and he told her to get out, and she did, and he kicked the door shut and then I felt his hand around my throat.  I laughed at him, because it was all so fucking funny, and he was hissing at me through his little spiky sharks teeth, and I could see him changing into this huge wet snake, writhing and gleaming on my bed.  I laughed at the snake through my constricted throat, and this sound made him wild, and the fear of it all was eating its way through my bones, one by one, and when the snake began to pound me in the stomach, it was a relief.  I was relieved, because when the pain arrived, it was familiar, and it was a comfort, and it made sense, and it made everything else just fall away.  I finally fell asleep when the snake had gone.  The steady throbbing of my smashed up gut took over where the music had ended.