12

We had instructions to meet the others outside the fish and chip shop two doors down from the cinema in the high street.  They were there before us, and started hooting and whistling when they saw us hand in hand.  We let go, and became enclosed in the circle of hand slapping and giggling.  Michael slung one arm around me and the other around Zoe. “I just spotted the victim,” he informed us, his head low and his eyes alive. “His mum dropped him off and he went in for tickets. As soon as he comes out, Zoe goes over to meet him. Drops a nice dose of reality on his feet and we arrive in time to see his face melt!  Everyone got it?”  We all nodded, and shuffled our feet around to face the right way.

We waited, until Higgs was spotted coming back down the steps from the cinema, two freshly purchased tickets clutched in one hand.  I suppose if there was any point where I felt sorry for him, it was then.  It was tragic really, watching the way he hopped exuberantly down the steps, his eyes scanning the crowd for Zoe.  He was dressed in beige chino trousers, and a neatly ironed shirt.  His blonde curtains looked bouncy and shiny as his head swivelled from side to side.  Zoe took her cue from Michael then, and strode confidently out from our secretive huddle.  I watched her go, and I had to agree with Michael that she had scary good looks.  A goddess in the making, she had long tousled blonde hair which she threw expertly from one shoulder to the other.  She was ridiculously tall and well-built for a fourteen year old.  To me, she looked like trouble piled into white sling backs.  Her blue almond shaped eyes were caked in make-up, and she had her body on full display that night, in denim hot pants and a low cut black top.

We all watched her approach him, her hips swaying, her arse wiggling, and we all watched his mouth drop open in greedy hunger, and his eyes bulge in their sockets.  She stopped right in front of him, hip cocked to one side, and she did the hair toss, and anyone could see that he was putty in her hands.  “Come on,” Michael said then, and we followed him through.  As we got nearer I saw two things happen to Eddie Higgs’ face.  Zoe leant towards his ear, and as he listened, his forehead creased in confusion.  He even tipped his head to one side, as if he was sure he had misheard her.  Then he clocked us coming up behind her, and his face, it just crumpled.  It just folded.  I’d never seen anything like it, and I couldn’t deny that I loved every bit of it.  I wished I had a video camera to record it, that’s how good it was.  I would have loved to be able to rewind that disintegrating face again and again.  Realization smacked him between his eyes, and in that moment he saw and understood everything, and even his shoulders caved in on him.

We glided up just in time to hear Zoe really put the boot in; “…and if you think I’d ever go near a slimy, tedious, nasty, ugly little mummy’s boy like you, you’re fucking crazy!” She sneered at him, looking him up and down as if she wanted to vomit on him. “You make me sick! I wouldn’t go on a date with you if you paid me!”

Michael slipped one arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Whoops! Looks like there’s been some kind of mix up here!” he chortled at Higgs and his misery.

“Monkey face, did you really think you had a chance with a hot girl like that?” Billy was smiling broadly, loving every minute of it.  “You knob end!”

“Loser…” someone else sniggered from behind.

“Very funny,” Higgs spoke up finally, and his voice was like granite, hard and flat, and dripping with venom.  He jabbed a finger towards Zoe. “The only way you’ll ever get any is by getting paid for it, you cheap brain dead slut!”

“Ah that’s not what you were saying just now Eddie,” Zoe teased, sticking her lower lip out at him.

“Still want to see the film Higgs?” I asked him, with a laugh.  His lips pursed in fury, and he suddenly ripped up the pair of tickets, threw them down and then spat on the ground next to Zoe’s feet.

“Bunch of fucking filthy loser scumbags!” he muttered, his voice shaking with anger.  “You’re not funny!  Just sad and pathetic, and I’ll get you all back for this!”

“You can call this payback from us actually,” Michael corrected him, leaning towards him with a darker expression now.  “Ganging up on Danny when it was meant to be a fair fight, four against four!  That’s how you get your kicks, being a nasty little coward. This is how we get ours.  All is fair in love and war.”

Higgs looked like he was torn between a tantrum and tears.  His face had turned bright red.  His eyes stared in a way that made him look rather deranged.  “Oh ha ha,” he sneered. “Really fucking funny, the lot of you! Enjoy it while it lasts you skanky bunch of cunts! Go on home to your slut whore mothers!”  He shoved through us then, and we scattered briefly, doubled up with laughter and scorn.  Michael slapped me on the back.

“Slut whore mothers!” he cried. “Sounds like a good name for a band!”

“What’s he gonna’ tell his mum?” Billy giggled. “He’ll have to phone her up to come get him!”

“More to the point, what’s his revenge gonna’ be?” wondered Jake, as he flicked the end of his cigarette to the ground. Michael just laughed and shoved him towards the cinema.

“Oh stop worrying old man, nothing he can do can ever top that!”

They piled energetically up the steps, but I hung back to walk with Lucy.  I glanced cautiously at her face, unable to stop wondering what her dad would have made of all that. “Bit cruel really, wasn’t it?” I asked her.  She shrugged, and she was smiling this radiant, flushed sort of smile.

“Not really. Not compared to what he says and does to people at school, and always people who are like shy, or weak or whatever. He’s a nasty bully Danny, always has been.” She slipped her arm through mine then, and I could have hooted with joy. “Come on, let’s forget about it now, I came here to see a movie!”

I drifted off easily that night, for two reasons.  One, all I could think about was how Lucy had leaned against me in the dark of the cinema, for the entirety of the film, and two, I had The Smiths in my ears, and I am pretty sure I fell asleep with a smile on my face.  I woke up suddenly at some late hour though.  You shut your mouth, how can you say, I go about things the wrong way? Billy’s dads mix tape was still whirring in my ears, and it was a strange lyric to wake up to. I am human and I need to be loved, just like everybody else does. Beautiful though, don’t you think? My headphones fell down as I rolled over, and it was then that I heard her sobbing.  I sat up in bed, rubbing at my face with one hand, and straining my ears to listen.  It was unmistakable really, and I didn’t know what I should do about it.  I could hear water running in the bathroom, and on top of that, my mother crying.  I just sat and stared at the bedroom door.  Part of me felt an instant stab of guilt, and thought maybe I should go to her, but somehow I couldn’t do it, couldn’t make myself move.  So I just sat there uselessly, listening to her trying to control herself.  She was really crying though, you could tell.  She was running the water to try to cover up the noise.  A short time later, I heard her turn off the tap, and creak her way out of the bathroom.  She was sniffling as she padded down the landing in her slippers.  She closed her own door behind her, and that was that.  Silence.

The next morning I found John in the kitchen eating cereal before work.  “How was your date?” he asked me, with a grin.  I was sort of smiling, so I guess he already knew it had gone well.

“Really, really good! Are you working today?”

“Yep,” he nodded, washing a mouthful of cereal down with a glug of tea. “Some of us have to earn the money to keep this place up.”

I opened the cupboard to find something to eat. “Is mum still in bed?”

John drained his tea and placed it next to the sink with his empty cereal bowl. “Yes, she is, and if I were you I would stay out of her way today and not annoy her.”

I frowned at him. “Why?  What’s wrong with her? She’s gone all weird.”

John shrugged under my suspicious glare.  He knew more than I did, I could tell.  They were always confiding in each other and keeping things from me.  “She’s probably just worried about money,” he said. “Housing benefit is not sorted yet, so my job is kind of keeping us afloat at the moment.”

“I could get a job!”

John snorted and opened the back door. “Who would give you a job?”

“Oh thanks!”

“Just being honest,” he shrugged again.  I slammed the cupboard door and turned to face him properly.

“Oh yeah, great, just like mum! You guys are great at slagging me off all the time, you know, and you never notice when I’m trying to help!”

“Whatever,” John muttered, bored of me already. “Just stay out of her way, all right? Don’t give her anything else to stress about.”

“Oh go to work golden boy, go on.”

After he left, I poured myself a bowl of coco pops and sat at the table to eat them.  I glanced at the ceiling when I heard my mother in the shower.  I felt a stirring of unease in my belly.  John’s words were playing over and over inside my head as I spooned my cereal into my mouth.  Who would give me a job?  What did he mean by that?  Why did he think no one would give me a job?  I gritted my teeth and wanted to show him how wrong he was.  I could get a job, I thought petulantly.  I could earn a bit of money to help mum out, and then she would be less stressed and grumpy, wouldn’t she?  With a plan of sorts forming in my mind, I dumped my empty bowl in the sink and dashed upstairs to get dressed. I bumped right into her, coming out of the bathroom.  She had her hair all wound up in a towel on top of her head, and her dressing gown on, and she stifled a yawn when she saw me.

“Morning.  How was the date?”

“Oh fine,” I said, pausing outside my bedroom.  The question caught me a bit off guard.  I rested one hand on the door handle.  “It was really good actually.  Fun.”

She yawned again and tugged her pale green dressing gown tighter around her body.  She had that look about her again, I thought, as I watched her.  Her eyes, slightly narrowed, her head sort of low, her forehead creased, as if try as she might, she just couldn’t figure out who I was, or where I had come from.  “And how was the big introduction?  With her dad?”

“Not too bad,” I winced. “He just asked me a load of questions.”

“Oh yeah, like what?”

“Like how we were settled in, and how your job was, and what my father did.”  I watched her expression become instantly hostile and aggressive, her nostrils flaring wide open, and her shoulders bunching right up to her neck.  She made a noise in her throat and rolled her eyes.

“Great!  So what did you say?”

“Nothing.  Just said he wasn’t around.”

“Well you’d think he would already know that,” she snapped. “The way gossip spreads in small towns.  He was just being rude, asking you that.”

“Was he?”

“Probably just thinks he is better than us, with his fancy house and his fancy car, and his perfect family! He was trying to make you uncomfortable asking all that!”

I didn’t know what to say.  I looked at my bedroom door, wanting to go in and close it tightly behind me.  Then I looked at my mother, and she met my eyes angrily, and I wanted to ask her was I the reason she was so angry?  Was I the sole cause of her anger and shame? “Why do people do that?” I sort of mumbled and shrugged at her.

“Don’t ask me,” she replied icily. “I’m just trying to do the best I can, raising two kids on my own, and working my arse off for peanuts. Seems that’s never enough for some people.”

“John said you were worried about money.”

Right away I regretted saying it.  Her eyes flashed at me, and she sucked breath up her nose just as Grandma had done over the phone.  “Oh don’t you start!”

“What?  I was just saying.”

“Oh go,” she said then, storming towards her bedroom, waving a hand at me dismissively as if the very sight of me aggravated her existence.  “Go, go and play, go and do whatever you do!  I’ve got enough to worry about today.”  She went into her room and closed the door.  I felt myself harden towards her then.  What was the point in trying to be on her side?  Just me being alive and breathing seemed to piss her off on a daily basis.

I dressed and left the house, grabbed my bike and skidded it around the corner to Michael’s.  Even from the front, I could hear the screaming. I grimaced, dropped my bike at the mouth of the alley, and picked my way over the broken bricks and split bin bags, to reach his back gate.  The tone of his mothers voice, shrieking and wailing over the rooftops, reminded me of my mums, when she was really mad.  Thin and tortured, irritated to the brink, a tone that begged, just get away from me, for God’s sake just get away! I pushed the gate open, and heard a deep male voice joining in.  He was basically telling her to shut the fuck up.  Just then Michael came spilling from the open back door, his face scowling, his movements hurried.  Something smashed inside the house, and he ran faster, not even seeing me until he had practically ran into me at the gate. “Shittinghell!” he burst out, hands in his hair. “Where’d you spring from?”

I grinned, and turned back down the alley. “My mum was pissing me off so I came to call for you. Sounds like yours is doing a better job though.”

He picked his bike up wearily from the end of the garden and followed me out. “Fucking crazy people,” he muttered darkly, shaking his head as he lifted his bike over the worst of the rubble.  “I would introduce you to my dad mate, but it’s a bit of a war zone in there at the moment.”

“No problem. I’ve got an idea.  You want to try and make some money?”

We paused at the end of the alley, climbing onto our bikes.  Michael pushed his shirt sleeves up to his elbows and looked at me quizzically.  “Why and how?” he questioned.  I shrugged.

“I dunno.  But get this.  John tells me mum is worried about money, which is why she’s being all shitty for no reason, so I say I could get a job and help out, and he says no one would give me a job!”

Michael looked appalled. “Did he? Idiot!”

“I know.  He thinks he’s so great.”

“We can get a job, easy.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.  It’s summer.  Everyone’s lawns need cutting.  The rich people don’t like cutting their own grass, do they?”  Michael pushed off and started to cycle slowly away.  I kicked off and followed him.

“Hmm?”

“Yeah, come on! We’ll cut grass, trim hedges, that kind of thing.  Easy money.  I’m telling you!”

He sounded so full of hope and enthusiasm, that I couldn’t help but feel excited.  As we rode off, I thought about how he was always like that.  Always smiling, and finding the light side of things.  My dark mood lifted, but it didn’t last for long.  An hour later we had been turned down by countless people, and decided to go for the park for a smoke instead.  I was silent by then, having slipped into a bit of a depression about it all.  Michael sat on the back of the bench and I waited while he rolled two perfect cigarettes with papers and tobacco.  He was proud of his efforts, I could tell.  He laid them out on one palm and peered at them from each angle.  “What do you think?”

I was sat on the bench, scuffing my feet back and forth against the dry grass. I nodded at them. “Very good.  Very professional.”  He smiled gently, lit one and passed it to me.

“Easier to steal papers and tobacco,” he explained. “My dad leaves his tin lying about the place.”

I took a long drag and glared back down the hill at the town we could see beyond us.  I didn’t want to bother knocking on any more doors.  It was bringing me down.  Seeing how they all lived, what cars they drove, what clothes they wore.  I didn’t want to know.  “What were they fighting about anyway?” I asked Michael, slumping forward over my knees.

“Fuck knows,” he laughed. “Money probably. I dunno.  I try to leave the house as soon as they kick off.”

“I don’t know how you turned out so well mate.”

He sniggered. “I know, I’m a credit to myself, aren’t I?”

I nodded, and smoked silently, staring and thinking about all the people that had said no to us today.  The ones who had just looked us up and down and closed their doors quickly, as if we were contagious in some way.  “Bastards,” I muttered.

“Who?”

“Everyone,” I stated, gesturing to the park and the streets beyond.  “All those gits saying no.  Lucy’s dad last night.  Higgs.  My mum.  All of ‘em.”

Michael nodded solemnly. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

I looked up at him. “Why’d they all say no to cutting their stupid grass? It’s not like some rich kid is gonna’ come along and offer to do it!  They don’t need the money!”

“Oh chill out,” Michael laughed at me.  “We’re trying again in a minute.”

“I just wanted to shut John up.  Give my mum some money.”

“We will,” Michael said brightly.  “We’ll ask Lucy’s dad next.  He has a huge fuck off lawn!”

I looked at him, shaking my head. “Piss off, there is no way I’m asking him!”

“Come on, think about it.  He’s a busy man, he has a huge garden, and you want to impress him, yeah?” I squirmed on the bench, growling slightly, because I knew he was right, but I detested the thought of knocking on his door and asking, after the humiliation of last night.   “It will look good, trust me,” Michael went on, smiling back at me, the breeze rifling through his black hair and lifting it away from his eyes. “If he says no, we’ll ask all his neighbours.  Someone will say yes eventually Danny. And then we’ll do the best job anyone’s ever done, do you see where I’m going with this?”

“No really,” I grumbled. “I don’t want to ask her dad and get humiliated again.”

“Get used to it mate,” Michael said, his dark eyes twinkling. “You’re from the estate and they think your mother is a whore. You’re gonna’ be humiliated your entire fucking life anyway.”

I stared up at him, my mouth dropping open in genuine surprise and hurt.  Michael stared right back at me though, his eyes shining in warmth and wickedness, and I wondered again, how the hell did he do it? How did he remain so positive and upbeat? “Well thanks mate,” I told him in confusion.  He giggled at me.

“It’s the truth,” he said. “Just like with me.  Always gonna’ have people think the worst of me, because of who my family are, and stuff.  So what?” He shrugged his shoulders and took a quick puff of his roll up, before hurling the butt behind him into the grass. “You can do two things, if you ask me.  You can give them exactly what they expect, and play the part.  Which can be pretty fun at times.  Or you can make them eat their own words every now and then.  You ever thought of that?”

“You’ve lost me,” I admitted. “What was last night then?”

“Oh come on,” he groaned. “We’ve got nothing to lose having a war with Higgs.  Nothing to gain from being nice to him.  But what about Lucy?  What about people like Mr. Chapman? Wouldn’t you want to prove him wrong and have him think well of you?”

I stared back out across the field below, blinking as I considered this. I wasn’t sure I wanted to admit it, but I was starting to think he might be right.  “People are so wrong about you,” I told him then, sucking the life out of my own cigarette and throwing down the butt.

He let out this delicious peal of laughter and leapt down from the back of the bench, slapping me on the knee on his way down.  “Come on then, you whining little shitbag, let’s get back out there before you change your mind!”

13

 

            I’d spoken to her at last.  It had become a regular thing, most Friday nights, her and her workmates.  Her, and that man.  Well, I didn’t make a special effort to get to her, or to seek her out, but people noticed me after a while.  People noticed me because I was the boss, and punters, clubbers, whatever you wanted to call them, they noticed things like that, they noticed who was in charge.  But it’s not just that.  People have always noticed me.  My mother used to say I had something about me.

It does not pay to get big headed about these things, but when you get to a certain age, and you have met enough people, and clocked up enough experience, then you get to be quite secure about what is fact.  She noticed me before she spoke to me, I know that for certain.  I caught her looking my way when I was training up the new girl.  She was at the bar, squeezed unceremoniously between two burly, bearded men.  I met her eyes very briefly, and my face remained impassive.  I finished training the new girl and left them all to it while I went out the back to make some phone calls.  I felt warm inside. I felt like I had given her a little bit.

The next Friday, she was in again.  She came in early, only half an hour after opening.  She had the usual gaggle of men and women with her, but I still got the feeling they were more acquaintances than friends.  When I watched her with them, it was like she stood apart from them all; despite the fact she was obviously interested in what they were saying, and she laughed and clapped and threw back her head, and looked to anyone who didn’t know better, like she was having a marvellous time with them all.

I knew better.

I was behind the bar, talking to one of the bar men.  He had been late the night before and needed a warning.  I kept it short and sharp and held his gaze the entire time; didn’t let his eyes leave mine for one second.  I saw him swallow thickly.

She came to the bar with a friend this time.  A tall, sallow faced woman with fake red hair and a turquoise dress on.  They waited while I finished my talk.  I was closest to them, so they tried to get my eye.  Short of waving at me, they were trying it all on.  Pushing their boobs against the bar, giggling and flicking their hair.  I could see her blonde fella in the corner, leaning in towards another woman.  I narrowed my eyes at her for one second.  I saw her eyes widen, just a little bit, and then I smiled.  I felt my face relax.  A smile is a magnificent thing. The effect is has on people.  The calming nature of it. The reassuring gesture that is universally accepted in this stark human world.  She smiled back.

I went to them.  “What can I get you ladies?”

I kept it short.  They wanted to talk, especially the red haired one.  They were keen to flirt, I could tell.  Women of their age often are.  They want to know they still have it.  Well, the red haired one never had it in the first place, I can tell you that.  I served them, smiled graciously, but kept things cool.  I was the boss, doing my job.  That was it.  I gave nothing away.  I just let her catch my eye one more time that night.

10

I need an easy friend, I do, with an ear to lend, I do, think you fit that shoe, I do, but you have a clue.  This was playing in my ears when I woke up the next morning.  I had fallen asleep with my head phones on again.  I tugged them down, and leaned over to switch the stereo off.  I was greeted by an instant groaning pain in my ribs, courtesy of Higgs and his bastard friends, and my mother screeching at me from downstairs.  I felt a mixture of things roll over me then; shame and remorse, resentment and anger.  I wanted to lie in bed and listen to Nirvana, and be left alone.  “If I have to come up there!” she screamed then, so I threw back the covers and stomped out onto the landing.  She was in the hallway, phone in hand. “For you.  It’s Michael.  And you can tell him that you are grounded for the week.”  I came stiffly down the stairs and took the phone from her, and she marched back into the kitchen, a tea towel slung over one shoulder.

“Hi Mike.”

“Hi bruiser, how you feeling?”

“Not too bad, did you hear what she said though, about being grounded?”

“Yeah, why’s she mad at you though?  You got beaten up!”

“It’s not just that,” I said, lowering my voice. “She knows I steal her fags and I scratched sleazebag’s car.”

“Oh,” chuckled Michael.  “I seeeeeee. Listen, you want us to go and get Higgs back for you?  We feel like hunting him down and causing him some pain.”

“No, no,” I said quickly. “Don’t do anything. I want to sort him out myself.  When I’ve thought of something.”

“Okay, okay, fair enough. Well have fun then.”

“Yeah.  Seeya’ Mike.”

I hung up the phone, and was about to sneak back up the stairs to bed when she called out from the kitchen.  “In here.  Now.”  Her tone was harsh and uncompromising. I rolled my eyes, pushed my hands back through my hair, and traipsed into the kitchen.  She was stood next to the table, hands on hips, tea towel still over one shoulder, and she nodded at the array of cleaning products laid out on the table.  She didn’t look at me as she told me what she wanted me to do.  “You can start in here, I want it pristine, young man, and then Frank is driving over some cars for you to wash.”  I wanted to complain of course.  I even opened my mouth to protest, but she spoke right over the top of me, and I could see by her rigid body language, that she was serious this time.  “You have to make up for what you did Danny.  I will not have you turning into a bloody delinquent.  You’ll wash the cars and then you will apologise to him.  No arguments.  I want to be proud of you for once.”  That was it.  That was all she had to say.  She turned briskly, picked up the washing basket from the floor and marched outside with it.  I felt so depressed then I wanted to just crawl back up the stairs, bury myself under the duvet and never have to look at her again.  God, she must really hate me, I thought, watching her out of the window.  I want to be proud of you for once. The words swam and jabbed in my head, anger and sadness taking their turn to riot through me.

The phone was ringing again, so I turned into the hallway, my shoulders slumped. I remembered the hatred dancing in Eddie Higgs eyes.  I was the kind of boy who went to the park to fight.  I was the kind of boy who stole my mothers’ cigarettes and lied about it.  And I was the kind of boy who damaged cars. She was right not to be proud of me.  I grabbed the phone, and before I could even say hello, a tight little voice barked into my ear. “Who is that?”

I tried not to sigh with irritation.  “Hi Grandma.  You want mum?”

“Do I want mum?  That’s a terribly rude way to start a conversation Daniel!  That is Daniel, isn’t it?  You know you and your brother sound exactly the same on the phone.”

“Yeah, it’s me Grandma.”

“It ought to be hello Grandma, how are you?” Her cross little voice rattled down the telephone and into my ear.  I made a fist and pressed my knuckles into the wall.

“Sorry Grandma.  How are you?”

She snorted.  “Not that anyone cares, but not very good actually.  Another chest infection.  You can pass that onto your mother.  And tell her to stop smoking, or she’ll end up just the same!”  As if to prove her point, my Grandma started coughing down the phone.  It was totally put on, you could tell it was.  She drove my mother crazy, and I could see why she had as little to do with her as she could get away with.  Finally she finished off with one great hawking cough that made me wince. “How’s the new house?  How’s school?”

“Fine.  It’s all fine thanks.”

“Got yourself into trouble yet?”

I blew my breath out slowly.  She preferred John over me, always had done. “Not really,” I lied easily.  “Not much.”

“Likely story,” she huffed back at me. “How’s your brother?”

“Good. He has a job.  Do you want me to get mum for you?”

“No, I do not want you to get her for me!” Grandma snapped waspishly.  “You can just tell her I called, and tell her I am not well, and tell her it’s about time she came and visited me!  Can you manage that, young man?”

“Course I can. I’ll tell her.”

“She got herself a fancy man yet?”

I smiled a little then.  I had known this was coming all right.  I stepped back and peered through the kitchen.  I could just about make out the top of her head out in the garden, as she pegged out the clothes.  “Yes, actually she has Grandma.  She has a new bloke.”

I heard the old woman suck in her breath, and I could picture her face perfectly then.  She’d have her whole body sucked up too, held upwards, her eyes bulging in her wrinkled face, her lips screwed up so tight they’d vanish completely.  I could see her shaking her head and waggling her finger.  She would be so incensed, so proved right, that she wouldn’t even be able to breathe until she remembered to release her scorn.  “I knew it!” she squealed finally. “I knew it wouldn’t take her long!  And I thought she moved you there to get away from bloody men!  Bad apple is he, eh?  You better tell me Daniel, before it all blows up in her face again.  Who is he then, eh?”

“Car salesman,” I told her.  I half regretted telling her now.  I had just done yet another thing to piss my mother off, and on top of that, my grandmothers attitude was starting to make me feel sorry for my mum.  “He’s okay actually,” I added as an afterthought. “Better than the last one.”

“Well I’m not impressed, you can tell her that.  Not one little bit!  She’s always been the same, your mother, one after the bloody other!  About time she grew up and learnt her lesson!  I have to go now Daniel, my soap is about to start.  You make sure you tell her I called, all right?  Tell her I called, and I want her to come and see me as soon as possible!”

She hung up and I lingered in the hallway, watching my mother in the garden.  I could see her hanging my school trousers onto the line, her hair in her face and pegs jammed in her mouth.  I didn’t understand much about her relationship with her own mother, except that it was not good, and never had been.  Grandma lived in a nursing home down in Cornwall, and visiting her was this twice yearly pilgrimage of duty, rather than love.  My mother would visibly stiffen at the mere mention of the woman.

Dressed, and feeling increasingly sorry for myself, I made a start on the kitchen.  John  couldn’t resist smirking, as I pulled on the rubber gloves my mother had laid out for me.  “Shut up and go to work,” I told him with a snarl. “Did you even know the bloke who runs that place is a Nazi?”

John swapped an amused look with my mother who had just come in from the garden.  She stared at me quizzically. “What did you just say?  Do you even know what that means?”

“Course I do. It means he hates anyone who is different to him, and he’s bringing his puke of a son up to be the same.”

John laughed loudly at me as he slung his work bag over one shoulder and started out of the door. “Yeah, you really know what you’re talking about don’t you?  See you later mum.  Have fun Danny!”

“Who told you that?”  My mother was frowning at me curiously.  “What makes you say such a thing?  Maybe he is trying to bring his son up to be a decent hardworking man, who owns a successful business!  Ever thought of that?”

“You haven’t met his son,” I shook my head at her adamantly. “He called Billy’s mum a commie loving hippy!  Whatever that means.”

“Perhaps you better ask Billy’s mum,” she murmured, and jerked her head towards the back door.  “Come on.  Cars and a genuine apology await you, young man.”

It wasn’t that bad in the end, washing his cars.  He was actually pretty gracious about the whole thing.  My mother stood right behind me while I apologised.  She insisted on peppering the brief conversation by correcting nearly everything I said, almost putting the words into my mouth before I spoke them.  I was incredibly and deeply sorry, not just sorry, and it was criminal damage not just a scratch.  You get the picture.  “Frank just wants to be friends with you,” she said for him at the end, when it was obvious to everyone but her that the exact opposite was true.  It wasn’t that he hated me or anything, he was just one of those adults that felt awkward around kids.  He didn’t know what to say to me, he just wished to avoid me, just wished me away.  So I went and washed three of his poxy flash cars in the heat of the day.  That shut them up.

I craved a cigarette genuinely for the first time, which I found interesting.  It was hot, and getting hotter, so I removed my shirt and tied it around my waist.  The sun beat down from a stark blue sky. It was the kind of blue that looked electric, like it was getting hotter and hotter and would catch fire before long.  The spray back from the hosepipe kept me cool though, and I imagined I would at least pick up a better suntan, and maybe bigger muscles too, if I put the effort in.  After I had washed the cars, I had to polish them.  I worked hard, rubbing the paintwork until I could see my sweaty face grimacing back at me.

I straightened up at one point, gazed down to the street and saw Lucy Chapman staring back at me.  My heart rate accelerated, just a little bit.  She was walking past, a shopping bag swinging from one hand.  I watched the other hand rise unsurely in a little gesture of hello that she did not have much confidence in.  She was wearing denim shorts and this little white vest top.  I swallowed.  I felt the moisture in my mouth evaporate at the sight of her, and my heart felt like it was going to explode with some kind of pain I had never known before.  She bowed her head a little then, tucked her hair behind one ear and started to walk on.  I left the car hurriedly, and made my way down to her.  She looked surprised; her mouth went into a little o shape, and she touched her hair again, and stopped walking. “Hi Lucy.”

“Hi Danny,” she grinned back at me, as her face flooded with colour. “Are you trying to earn some money or something?” She gestured towards the cars.

“Nah,” I shook my head at her. “Just being punished.”

“Oh,” she nodded at me knowingly, yet her smile never faltered.  Her eyes drifted momentarily down to my naked chest, before jerking quickly again.  Her cheeks were getting redder by the second.  “What have you been up to now then?”

“Oh just a bit of trouble with Higgs,” I shrugged at her. “Nothing much.”

“Ah I see….well,” she glanced around, one hand still playing with a strand of hair, and her smile going on and on, and then she moved off a little bit.  “Well, I better get going.  Seeya’ Danny.”

I stepped aside and let her walk past.  I felt panicked and frustrated though, watching her go.  That wasn’t enough!  Our first proper conversation and that was it?  I couldn’t think of a single other thing to say to her though, so I just mumbled goodbye and watched her go.  I had to take a deep breath when she was gone.  I could still smell her in the air around me, as I walked back to the car.  I felt this surge of excitement and energy then, and attacked the polishing with renewed vigour.  It was a start, I told myself, thinking of Lucy.  Next time I bumped into her, I would have the guts for more.

My mother came out of the house and pushed a cold can of coke at me.  “You must be nearly finished,” she said, nodding at the cars. “Frank said to tell you you’ve done a better job than the guy he uses at work.”

I took the coke and opened it. “Really?”

She nodded. “Who was that girl you were speaking to?”

“Oh.  Lucy.  I mean, no one.”

She smiled, tried not to, and failed abysmally.  “Sorry.  I’m just wondering if my son has his first crush on a girl, that’s all.”

I shook my head, my forehead creased with a frown.  “No.  No way.  Just know her from school.”

She continued to smile at me, nodding, which was at least nice, to have her smiling at me for a change.  She sighed then, and her eyes trailed down to the bruises Higgs and his friends had left on my ribs.  “Look at you,” she said softly. “What a mess you get yourself into. I don’t understand why.”

I placed the coke down on the ground and went back to my manic polishing. “Didn’t you…ever?” I asked her.  “When you were my age?”

My mother threw back her head with laughter. “Oh I am never telling you what I was like at your age,” she cried, wiping at her eyes. “It would only encourage you!”

I stared at her in wonder.  This was news to me.  I had always imagined her just like John.  Doing what was right, what was expected, trying to please her impossible mother.  It warmed me a little to imagine she might have been a bit like me.  “Really?”

“Yes, really.  Maybe I’ll tell you about it one day.”  She looked at me seriously then. “Maybe it’s time you put all this silliness behind you, with Frank, I mean.  He’s a nice man Danny.  Maybe you should trust my judgement for a change.”

“Hmm,” I said, and went back to polishing.  I didn’t want to say any more than that.  Hmm meant I would be reserving judgement on him being a nice man.  “I forgot to tell you.  Grandma called.  She said to tell you she’s ill.”

I watched the sun go right out of her face then.  She sighed and rolled her eyes as she turned back towards the house.  “If you don’t mind Danny, I’m going to pretend for now that you didn’t give me the message.  You come in, in a minute okay?  It’s getting too hot out here now.”

“Okay, nearly finished.  Just want to make up for what I did.”  I don’t know why I said that last bit.  It was something she would want to hear though.  She smiled at me, probably the most genuine smile I had seen on her face in a long time.

“All right love,” she said. “Good boy.”

11

 

                        I should have left it there, shouldn’t I?  You don’t know how much I can see that now, when I look back.  Everything was okay.  Everything, maybe, would have turned out all right.  She had forgiven me.  Frank Bradley was okay.  When I look back, you see, I can spot all these times when if only I had done something, or not done something, then things would maybe be different.  That’s probably the same for everyone, in life.  But not everyone is stood where I am now, thinking what I’m thinking, planning what I’m planning. And it’s only now that I can look back and see my younger self, that I have the urge to shout back at him, for Gods’ sake leave it, don’t mess it up, don’t make it worse, don’t make it so fucking easy for him.  There are many moments that I want to scream back at; do it differently, and that was definitely one of them.

Me and Michael, up in my room.  Nevermind on full blast.  Everything was fine, everything was good.  My mother had relented in her determination to punish me, and had allowed him over, even though I was technically still grounded.  She groaned at herself when she gave into me.  I’m so soft, I know I am, she would say, with a half smile.  My mother warned me I was too soft on you; that was the other one she would say a lot when I got my own way; she warned me it would come back to bite me and she was right. Maybe my mother gave in so easily because she wanted things to be all right too.  She wanted me to like her, and she wanted me to behave.  I shouldn’t have taken advantage of it, but I did.

We were certainly full of it that day, the day we planned our revenge on Eddie Higgs. We didn’t even think about consequences, or anything, we just lolled on the bedroom floor and basked in our greatness.  It was Michael’s idea.  It was brilliant.  My mother had just brought us up this tray of food.  She seemed to like Michael, as he was always extremely polite towards her, and devoured whatever food she provided as if he had never been fed before.  This was partly true.  His mother made sporadic drunken visits to the supermarket, but most of the time we found the cupboards in his house empty.  We took the tray from her and she cocked her head in the doorway.  “Who is this again?”

“I’ve told you a million times mum, it’s Nirvana.”

“That American band?”  She wasn’t really interested, you could tell.  She was just trying to get along with us both.

“Yes mum.”

“Okay,” she smiled, raising her eyebrows.  “I’ll leave you to it.”

We rolled our eyes at each other when she had closed the door behind her.  I reached for the stereo and turned the volume back up.  “My dad is back again,” Michael said, diving in for one of the ham sandwiches on the tray.  I sat back on the floor on the other side of the tray.

“That’s cool. Is your mum glad to see him?”

Michael shook his head, a glint in his eye and his mouth full of bread. “She’s pleased to see his money.”

“Oh.  So is he back for good?”

“Nah, not usually. He never hangs around for long.  Says he can’t find the work around here.” Michael picked up a second sandwich, and frowned at me as he bit into it. “So why’s your mum being so nice anyway? Letting me come round and that?”

“Think she’s letting me know she’s pleased with me,” I shrugged. “Washing all those cars and behaving myself.  Bradley’s been round constantly you know.  They’re joined at the hip, and I haven’t said a word about it.  Good boy, see?”  I grinned at him and he grinned back.

“So are we gonna’ mess with his head again or what?”

“I think we should concentrate on Higgs first,” I replied, my tone serious.  “Bradley’s all right.  He’s not a bastard.  Not yet, anyway.”

“Okay, no problem.  Just let me know when he is one, and we’ll take things up a notch.”

We were quiet for a few moments then, devouring the food and listening to the music.  Michael looked deep in thought as he munched away, one hand cupped under his chin, elbow resting on his bent knee.  As for me, I needed to hear ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ again, as my mum coming in had interrupted it, and that was not good.  I pressed rewind, and settled back on the floor.  I looked at Michael as the opening chords kicked in, and he was grinning back at me through his mouthful of food.  “I can’t get enough of this song,” I told him, nodding happily along to it.  “I don’t think I’ll ever get bored of it!  Those opening guitar chords!  Those drums!  Kurt’s voice!” I glanced back at the stereo, and felt like I wanted to just throw back my head and laugh for some reason.  I couldn’t explain it though, not really, the way music made me feel.  “Makes me want to play the guitar, or the drums!”

“Whole album is amazing,” Michael nodded at me.

“It’s his voice too,” I said, feeling myself in danger or starting a rant, something I had been doing a lot of lately. “The quiet verses I mean.  I just want to drown everything out and just hear his voice, and then the loud chorus!  Fuck, I wish I could make noise like that!”

“You’re hilarious.  You’re as bad as Billy.”

“He’s right though,” I went on enthusiastically, recalling a conversation me and Billy had got into lately. “This song is enough on its own, enough forever, I mean. I keep thinking of it as our song, me you and Jake and Billy, I mean? Our little group, that bit?  But then the whole album blows my mind.  Every single fucking song is perfect.  Drain You and Lithium.  Polly! I can’t believe I didn’t get into them sooner.”

“You don’t have the benefit of parents like Billy’s,” Michael reminded me wryly. “His dad gets him into most of it.  Brings him home stuff he thinks he’ll like.  He was probably born playing air guitar!  He has no fucking choice.”

“Billy hates The Smiths though,” I told him earnestly, even though I could see Michael was sort of tiring of the conversation.  He loved music, don’t get me wrong, but he didn’t want to talk about it all day like I did.  I had to keep a lot of it to myself, the way it felt, the way it lifted and entranced me on a daily basis.  I had to write it down in my notebook so I wouldn’t just burst from it all.  “His dad taped me a couple of their albums, and they’re amazing!  Amazing lyrics Mike.  So funny!”

Michael laughed, pushed the tray away now that he was full and leant back on my bed with his arms crossed behind his head. “I get that,” he said. “Anyway, let’s talk about Higgs. While you were raving on about music, I just came up with the best fucking revenge plan ever!”

I chewed at my lip for a moment, just thinking, and looking warily at the dark and challenging stare on Michael’s face.  “It has to be good,” I warned him. “That little shit is cleverer than I thought.”

“He’s not that clever.  Listen.  You know he has the hots for Zoe?”

“Does he?”

“Yeah, everyone knows it, it’s obvious.  And she can’t stand the little creep.”

“She likes you though,” I pointed out with a smirk.  I shifted a little closer to him without even thinking about it.  We had not talked about girls in a while, and I felt this sudden rush of excitement.  Michael was grinning.

“Course she does.  It’s obvious.”

“Why don’t you ask her out or something then?  That would wind Higgs up.”

“You’re thinking along the right lines mate, but listen.”  Michael sat forward then, his dark eyes suddenly very bright and menacing.  I loved that look on his face.  It spelled danger, and it was intoxicating.  We are as bad as each other, I found myself thinking as I waited for it.  “Here’s the plan.  We get Zoe to ask Higgs out, to the cinema or something.  He’ll be ecstatic.  He’ll piss his pants.  Then when he turns up, we’re all there waiting, and Zoe gets to tell him exactly what a little piss stain she thinks he is, and then goes into the cinema with me  instead. Total humiliation.”

I nodded.  I bit down on my lower lip and grinned behind my teeth. “He won’t suspect a thing.  He’ll never say no to Zoe.”

“She’s the hottest girl in the whole school.”

“Apart from Lucy!” I blurted out, without thinking.  I watched Michael gape in surprise and amusement.

“Oh yeah?  Really?”

“Well you know, just saying.”

“I get it!  You want to turn this into a double date or something?”  He reached out and punched me lightly in the arm.  I laughed and blushed, and wanted to scream out at him, yes, yes I fucking do. “Brilliant!” Michael clapped his hands together and beamed at me. “This is fucking brilliant Danny.  So we get the girls on board.  Zoe pretends to ask Higgs out.  Higgs turns up, she gives it to him, we all laugh, and then me and you get to take the two hottest girls in school to the cinema, right in front of him!  Fucking spot on!”

“What if the girls say no?”

Michael looked appalled. “No?  Why the hell would they say no?”

“Well, you know…”

“They won’t say no!  What girls in their right minds would say no to us? We must easily be the best looking boys in year nine!”  I laughed at him, so he responded by punching me again. “Seriously, we fucking are! Shittinghell, we could be on the telly for Christ’s sake!  I’m being serious!”

I was dying with giggles by now.  I had to lie down on the floor to stretch out my belly, it was so cramped up with laughter. “I never knew you were so vain Michael!”

“Not vain. Just know what I see when I look in the mirror!” He pointed to his own chest. “Look at me man.  Tall dark and handsome, bad rep, that’s what the girls love!  And look at you!  Blonde, blue-eyed, face of a bloody angel! How the hell could they say no to us?  Just you wait.  I am serious.  You may laugh.  Oh that’s right, you keep laughing pal.  I’m going to go and fix this up right now.  Just you wait!  You’ll never be able to repay me for this, I’m telling you!”

He got to his feet, brushed the crumbs from his lap and looked down at me.  I was weak with laughter, flat on my back and staring helplessly back up at him.  “Fine,” was all I could manage to squeak through my giggles. “Go on then!”

“I will,” he retorted, hands on hips, which made me laugh even harder. “I’m going now.  If you’re too bloody shy to ask Lucy out, I’ll do it for you! We’ll take them on a double date and humiliate the fuck out of Higgs at the same time.  Fucking result.  I am only the best friend you have ever had!”

“You’re a legend…” I mumbled through laughter as I rolled around the floor.  He viewed me sceptically and opened the door.  He pointed at me before going out.

“Don’t you forget it!  It’s what I do.”

I lay on my back for a while after he left.  I started to shake with laughter every time I thought about any of it.  Humiliating Higgs in such an evil way.  A date with Lucy.  Being handsome.  Michael a legend.  I had this lovely warm feeling flowing all over me as I lie there.  This feeling of everything just ticking along nicely, just going the way it was supposed to for once, and Michael was right about one thing, he was the best friend I had ever had in my life.

The next day at school Michael and I were unable to keep the smiles from our faces.  Billy and Jake’s only grumble was that they had no girls; so by the end of the day Zoe had remedied this by dragging in Stephanie Hall and Jessica Benson, and everyone was happy.  I felt increasing impatience with the week as it dragged its heels towards Friday.  My dizzying state of nerves was only added to when Lucy pulled me aside at school on Thursday.  She looked so apologetic, that for a few awful sinking moments I was convinced she was about to back out of the whole thing.  “Would you mind picking me up from my house tomorrow night?” she asked me instead, twirling a length of hair around one finger anxiously. “It’s so silly I know, but my dad wants to meet you.  He’s like it with my sisters too.  I’m so sorry.  We’ll be so quick, I promise!” I was so relieved she wasn’t backing out, that I agreed instantly, and only got worried about it later.

That night my pen flew like a feather across the pages of my notebook, as the excitement and apprehension rose to a hammering crescendo in my chest.  I wrote about the revenge plan, and how cool it would be, but better than that I wrote about the snatched moments of eye contact with Lucy across the classroom.  Ten times in one day was my record.  Her dazzling smile and shy eyes greeted me every time I looked her way.  I felt so happy, so close to what I imagined perfect happiness must be that it almost made me feel sick.  I sucked my pen thoughtfully and wondered if that was what really being in love felt like; like you were sick with happiness.

When Friday night finally rolled around, I found myself asking my mothers’ opinion while I tried to do something with my hair in the bathroom.  She was collecting clothes from the linen bin.  “Shall I gel it or something?” I was wondering.  She didn’t answer me; just kept on hauling dirty clothes out onto the landing. I’d made the mistake of brushing my hair, and now it had gone all flat and geeky. “Do you think Lucy’s dad will like me?” I asked, when her face appeared in the mirror behind my head.  She was chewing distractedly at a strand of hair.  I grimaced at my reflection and ruffled up my own hair.  I thought she would groan or complain that it was getting too long, but she didn’t.  She just started pulling and tugging at her own face.  “Mum?  I said, “Do you think Lucy’s dad will like me?  None of the other guys have to meet any parents.” I peered out from my hair, hoping I looked at least a little bit like Kurt Cobain, and waited for her response.  I felt miserable with my hair dilemma and apprehensive about meeting Mr. Chapman.

“God, I’m looking old,” my mother complained, still tugging at the skin around her eyes.

“No you don’t,” I told her. “You look way too young to be a mum, everyone says so.”

She smiled a slightly strained smile, and looked back at the mirror, sighing.  I thought she looked a bit pale, a bit distracted, and I recalled her pushing her food around her plate at dinner time.  “What’s wrong?” I asked her, hoping to build on the new level of confidence we had adopted with each other lately. “Have you and Frank had a fight or something?”

I could see right away that I had said the wrong thing, and pissed her off.  She sort of huffed irritably and tossed her hair. “No, of course not. He’s just got a lot on.  A lot of work stuff.”  I said nothing, but she evidently did not appreciate the look on my face, as she turned to face me, hands on hips. “And what is that smug look for young man?  Frank and I are getting on just fine, for your information.  Better than ever.”

“All right,” I shrugged, turning to the door. “I only asked if you thought Mr. Chapman would like me.”

She sighed softly and looked me up and down.  It felt to me then that my very presence troubled her. “They live on Cedar View Hill?”  I nodded reluctantly.  She arched her eyebrows at me.  “Don’t take this the wrong way Danny, but if I were her dad, and some scruffy kid with a bad reputation came knocking on my door, I wouldn’t exactly be jumping for joy.”

I stared back at her, a scowl working its way onto my face.  I could barely believe what I was hearing. “Thanks a lot,” I said. “I’ve stayed out of trouble lately.  Thanks for noticing.”

She laughed softly and turned back to the mirror, and her face. “I don’t mean it like that. I just meant what is with the scruffy hair and clothes all the time?  How can you expect to make a good impression on posh people, dressed like that?  That’s all I’m saying. People like them are suspicious of people like us at the best of times.  He’s bound to be protective of his precious daughter.”

I had no idea what she was going on about.  My head was now wrecked with confusion and rumbling tremors of anger.  I didn’t want to hear any more, so I stomped away from her, calling back over my shoulder; “thanks a lot!”

Well, she was sort of right, wasn’t she?  I knew it, as I headed over there, in my ripped jeans and grubby baseball boots. Cedar View Hill made my stomach drop when I stepped out onto it.  The homes looked like mansions to me.  You could have fitted three or four of our houses into one of them.  The driveways looked like roads.  Everything seemed wide and gentle and sweeping and vast, and I didn’t belong, as I shambled along with my palms growing sweaty in my pockets, and my guilt and shame cowering my shoulders.  Lucy’s dad came to the door with her, and regarded me cooly through wire rimmed spectacles.  He wore a suit and had a neat crew cut.  He asked me how I was, and what my mum and dad did for a living.  I had to stand there, arms hanging at my side, my hair a mess, while I explained that my mother worked for Franks Cars, and I had no idea where my father was.  I watched the concern manifest itself tightly upon his face, as he forced up a tight lipped smile and waved his daughter off with me.

The only thing that eased the sorrow in my chest right then, was Lucy’s hand when it stole out towards mine as we walked towards town together.  Our fingers brushed in the middle, fumbled clumsily for a moment, and then entwined, suddenly and inexplicably.  We didn’t say anything.  We just looked at each other and smiled.  I let my breath out, and allowed the sheer, pure joy to pummel me.

8

 

            I kept it up for as long as I could.  Let it be known than being overly nice to someone you detest is not an easy thing to do.  I felt like she was testing me, those next few weeks.  She was seeing how far she could push it, just like I was.  Just as she threatened, Bradley started to show his face at ours more and more often, and I just had to swallow it.  I started to wonder if it was time we changed tactics; hit him with the big guns.  So he didn’t mind his girlfriends’ son being a bit over the top friendly?  How would he feel about me being an outright little shit?

At school, I had relaxed into things, the way you do when you have no choice about going somewhere.  I knew who was okay, and who to avoid, and I knew that none of it really mattered anyway when I’d found the three best friends I had ever had.  I spent hours in my room, faithfully recording the music Billy leant to me on an almost daily basis.  Billy was right about his dads’ music collection being akin to an education.  It was more than that though.  It was a revelation; as close to a religious experience I was ever likely to get.  I learnt the words and sang along loudly when I was alone in the house.  One of the best ones to sing out loud was I Am The Resurrection, by The Stone Roses.  Everything about that song spoke to me.  Everything about that song commanded it be played extremely loud at least once a day. The intro, just drums and nothing else, pounding drums for what feels like eternity, and then the guitar kicking in with the melody, followed shortly by Ian Brown singing , down, down, you bring me down.  Just brilliant.  My mother could not fathom why I wanted to play it every day, why I would listen to it, only to rewind the tape back and listen to it again.  I didn’t have the vocabulary or the inclination to explain to her how I loved the way the song built up, two verses before you got the first spill of chorus, I am the resurrection and I am the light! That was the bit I loved to sing at the top of my lungs; I couldn’t ever bring myself to hate you as I’d liiiiiiiiiiiiike!  The guitars just blew me away.  I started pestering my mother for guitar lessons, imagining that spiralling and joyous sound coming from me, from my own fingers!  But we couldn’t afford such things, she said. I had to be content with playing it loud whenever I got the chance.  Lying on my bed and wriggling from side to side, or bouncing up and down, looking for a way to release the happiness it expanded inside of me.  I was starting to distrust and despise people who did not like the same music as me.

Discreetly, I kept one eye on Lucy Chapman.  Part of me knew I would always fancy her, whatever happened, but part of me worried that it would never last between us if she didn’t like decent music.  I knew where she lived; up on Cedar View Hill beyond the park, the same road Edward Higgs lived on.  The road was long and sweeping up there, the houses vast, reminding me of mansions in Hollywood, in the movies.  They all had glorious views of the sea from up there.  I imagined that she would fall for me one day, and that her parents would hate me.  I would drive up there on my motorbike to pick her up.  I knew that she was clever, she was in the top groups for everything, and that she liked to twirl her hair around her index finger when she worked with her head bent low over her desk.  We had swapped a few smiles and said hi a few times, but that was it.  I didn’t know how long I would have to wait for something to happen, but I had noticed that she was best friends with Zoe Collins, a girl who melted into giggles whenever Michael was around.

After school, there were long and lazy afternoons to fill at the park, or the base.  We would ride our bikes up there, smoke cigarettes and muck around.  “The fight is on,” Michael told us there one day after school.  It was something we had all been eager to hear, especially me, now that I needed to shake things up a little at home.  “Normal rules apply.  Four against four, no weapons.”

“As long as he sticks to the rules,” Jake commented from where he was sprawled on the grass, with a cigarette jutting from his mouth. “Last time he had three extra bastards hiding in the bushes.”

I looked on, appalled while they all nodded grimly and seriously. “Never trust Higgs,” Michael warned me solemnly. “He never plays fair, the dirty little bastard.”

“Can’t wait to get my hands on him,” was all I could think to say right then, and they seemed to appreciate it, bursting into laughter around me.  I was punching one fist into the palm of my other hand.  It was true though.  The little shit was an incessant pest to me at school, trying to goad me into violence daily.  The fight at the park was a chance to settle the score again, even things out and give him something to take home to show his mummy.

I rode home after that, and I rode straight into trouble.  I skidded my bike in carefully practiced fashion into the driveway behind my mothers’ car.  There was another car parked behind hers; this swish navy blue Porsche thing.  I didn’t give a shit about cars, never had.  It annoyed me the way people expected you to be excited about them, just because you were a boy.  I hated the way some boys at school talked about cars all the time. It bored me.  What cars they rated, what cars they wanted to drive when they were old enough, what cars they wouldn’t be seen dead in; who fucking cared?  Cars were not important, not like music.  Music changes peoples’ lives, I was thinking as I barged into the empty kitchen.  I could smell something nice cooking in the oven, and I could hear voices, coming from the lounge.  Still thinking absolutely nothing of the Porsche in the drive, I opened the lounge door, and there they both were.  My mum and Bradley.  Panic stricken faces as they scrambled for their clothes.  I saw things I really didn’t want to see.  Hairy balls and my mothers arse as she dashed around the other side of the sofa.  “Danny,” she was mumbling incoherently.  I yanked the door shut on them and ran from the house.  “Danny come back!” I heard her call out, but I couldn’t have stopped if I had wanted to.  My feet tore me through that house, and spilled me back outside into the sunny remnants of the day.  I saw my bike and seized hold of it, and I was off before I even knew where I was going, pedalling furiously, not looking back.

It was weird, as I rode.  You would think I would only be able to see their naked bodies in my mind, but no, it wasn’t that, thank fuck.  It was crazy James, the last one, the unstable one who had caused us to run.  It was him I could see in my head.  Sat out on the old doorstep night after night, crying one minute, then screaming the next.  His constant presence unreal and yet frightening. I rode past Michael’s house without even realising it, rage erupting a hot sweat across my forehead.  I felt like I was burning up, I was so wired with anger.  Like I would explode or catch on fire if I didn’t do something.

I found myself outside Billy’s house, and remembering him saying I could come by anytime, I propped my bike up against the porch and knocked on the door.  As I waited, I wiped my hands off on my school trousers, and gazed around.  The Madisons had an extremely overgrown front garden, but it was sort of beautiful at the same time.  There were climbing roses growing over the porch, and all these little wind chimes tinkling against each other.  The doorstep was covered in discarded and muddied wellington boots, and there was a row of terracotta plant pots, with various half dead plants growing from them.  You could tell they belonged to the kids, because each pot was painted a crazy rainbow of colours.  There was plenty of noise coming from the other side of the door.  Small children yelling, and small dogs yapping.  A willowy looking woman, with long pale blonde hair opened the door to me.  She seemed to have children stuck all over her, and they all looked just like Billy, flame haired and freckle nosed.  I wanted to make a comment about The Waltons, but I guessed they had probably heard that one before.  Billy’s mother smiled at me warmly.  She was wearing bell bottomed jeans and a large over-sized shirt, spattered with paint.  “Hi is Billy in?” I asked her.  She immediately held the door open and gestured for me to come in.

“Yes, yes he’s up the stairs, don’t tell me!  You’re Danny!  You must be Danny.”

“Yep, that’s me.  Thanks Mrs. Madison.”

“Call me June,” she turned and smiled at me.  “Please.”  She peeled one of the children from her leg.  “Coco go and tell Billy his friend is here.  Danny, you must stay for dinner, we were just about to eat.”  I paused and scratched at my neck.

“Oh I’m sorry, I can come back later…”

“No, no, don’t you dare!” she laughed at me. “You are more than welcome to stay.  If your mother won’t mind, that is?”

I thought back to mum, and Bradley, the horrible tangle of arms and legs, and shook my head at Mrs. Madison.  Just then Billy appeared at the top of the stairs, waving to me urgently.  “Get up here!” he hissed, so I obeyed.  He ushered me into the bedroom he shared with two younger brothers and kicked clothes out of the way so that he could close us in. “What’s up?” he asked me breathlessly, “is it about the fight?”

I looked around me.  He had the same room as me, at the front of the house, but it seemed so much smaller, with bunk beds on one wall, and his bed on the opposite.  There was a tatty old leather arm chair beside his bed, and he quickly swept another bundle of clothes from the seat and shoved me down into it.  His walls were plastered in posters, even more than mine were.  For a moment I was just lost, staring around at them all, trying to take them all in, place their band and their songs.  “No, I was just bored,” I told him slowly. “I had a fight with my mum so I came out.  You don’t mind me coming over do you?”

Billy flung himself onto his bed, reached across to his stereo which was positioned on a shelf at the head end of the bed, and started fiddling with knobs.  “Course not, stupid, I told you, my mother loves it!  She’ll bore your pants off at dinner time, endless fucking questions, and my dad.  What was the fight about?”

“Oh.  I walked in on her and Bradley.”  Billy’s head whipped around to stare at me, so I nodded reluctantly.  “Yeah.  Naked and everything.”  I looked away from Billy’s expression as it moved from wonder to amusement.  I felt sort of down and dark about it again right then.  It wasn’t just shock, or anger that I felt, it was more than that.  It was hurt, and dismay.  I had to try not to think about it too much.  I had to try to forget her promise to me, just as I was going to forget mine to her.  I picked at a scab on the back on of my hand, and just felt sort of heavy, as if I should lie down or something.

“That’s horrible mate!” Billy was saying to me. “That’s sick!  Gross!”

“I know,” I sighed in agreement.  “I had to get out of there before I puked.”

“Ugh,” he shook himself. “Horrible.  Nasty.  Old people, shouldn’t…should they?  Ugh, just put it out your head mate.  Don’t think about it.  Doesn’t sound like the plan is going very well then?”

I shook my head.  “Nah.”

“Shit,” Billy said in sympathy.  Then he brightened.  “Hey, while you’re here you can get more music off my dad.  He will love meeting you!  Only thing is mate…they’re kind of vegetarian.”  He shrugged his shoulders at me in apology.

I couldn’t help but smile at him.  “That’s all right Bill.”

After dinner at the Madisons, I climbed on my bike and started to pedal slowly home.  I was tired.  My mind was a mess of churning thoughts, making the urge to write in my notebook stronger and stronger.  I needed to put some music on and let it pour out.  Staying for dinner had put my head in a whirl.  Don’t get me wrong, it was great. I actually loved every minute of it.  The kids were unruly and noisy, and there was this constant background buzz of whining, laughing and banging.  But there was so much love, I had noticed, between them all.  That was the only way I could explain it.  It was there in the way they all looked at each other, the way their eyes smiled on.  June was one of those very tactile people, always tapping or touching or grabbing you when she spoke.  She leaned in towards you, looked at you as if you were the most important and valuable person to her in that moment, in that sharing of information.  She laughed at everything I said, and not in a mean way, or a fake way either.  She chattered non-stop at the dinner table, seemingly able to hold several different conversations with different children at the same time.  Mr. Madison had arrived home just as dinner was being served.  I don’t know what he did for a living, but he wore a suit and tie.  He looked just like Billy, short and square, with rusty orange hair that came down to his shoulders.  He had a thick wiry beard too, which he rubbed at when he spoke.  He seemed as pleased as his wife to have an extra guest at the dinner table, and he asked me questions all the way through the meal, just as Billy had warned.  What music did I like?  Had I been to see any bands yet?  Where had I moved from?  Did I like it better here? Did I want to look at his music collection?

I cycled home with a few more mix tapes in my pocket.  He had insisted on taping me some albums by a band called The Smiths. “Billy won’t approve,” he had told me with a wink.  “Not grungey enough for him, at the moment, but I have a feeling you’ll find something you like there.”  I thought of the tapes in my pocket and felt a warmth of gratitude.  I headed home, thinking about how different Billy’s mother had been to Michaels.  I wondered about the rumours that surrounded Jake’s mother; that she was fat, really fat, like too fat to leave the flat fat.  I couldn’t reasonably ask Jake if this was true though, could I? I stopped when I got to my house, and planted my feet on the ground either side of my bike.  The blue car was still there.   I noticed it properly this time.  A brand new Porsche by the look of it, with the number plate personalised to Bradley.  Disgusting, I thought, what a smarmy prick.  I sneered, and edged closer to it.  I did what I did next without even really thinking about it.  I just did it, and it was done, and then I was scared.  I had snatched a stone up from the ground and dragged a ragged scratch across the bonnet.

9

 

            My sleep was restless for the next few nights.  It annoyed me.  In between fitful periods of unconsciousness, I kept waking, choked with guilt and the fear of my mother confronting me.  I gritted my teeth against it, reminding myself that it was good actually, what I had done; it was all part of the plan, wasn’t it?  Scare the bastard off.  Plus, he deserved it anyway, and they wouldn’t ever be able to prove it was me.  I held onto that, whenever sleep eluded me.  I tried to remember how quickly mum had tired of James, and clung to the hope that it would soon go this way for Bradley too.  One minute she had been all over him like a rash, murmuring about engagements and moving in together, and then the next, he’d been old news.  She’d started avoiding his calls, and ducking behind the sofa when he knocked on the door.  I remembered how James had sucked up to me, and tried to get me on his side, and how it had worked too, for a while.  I’d liked him, the stupid dopey fool, I’d thought he was all right.  I was never making that mistake again.

When the day of the fight rolled around, I found my mother and Bradley entwined on the sofa together, watching some cheesy movie they had rented out.  I told her in tight, clipped tones that I was going to Billy’s to listen to music, and she merely nodded back at me silently.  There had been no mention of the scratched car, but she knew, I could see that in the way she looked at me.  I was going to be early for the fight, but I had the idea that a quiet stolen cigarette on the bench would get me in the right mood, so that was my plan.  I cycled there, head low, jaw tight, that cramping nervous feeling taking over my belly.

I got to the park and threw down my bike.  My mouth was dry, and my stomach now had that fluttery, disjointed feeling you got on the first day back at school, or on the morning of a test, or something.  It was partly because of the fight, but it was also because of Bradley, and Project-Sleazebag.  I needed to consult Michael about it, when this business was taken care of.  It was not going to plan at all.

I didn’t even have time to light my smoke before I felt these hands ramming into my back, propelling me violently forward.  I had no chance to correct my balance, and my bike was right in my way, so I fell over it, scratching one ankle on the spikes of the chain.

“Ahh all alone?”  It was Eddie Higgs, with three boys behind him.  I turned onto my backside and stared up at them.  I vaguely recognised the other three.  The big, stupid looking one was called Kevin Grady, and he glared back at me through these slitty, piggy eyes.  I had him down for a slime and a thicko.  The other two were harder to work out.  Good boys.  Like Higgs, at school.  Polite and clean and top of their classes.  But here they were, punching their fists into their hands, snarling down at me like I was a stray dog that needed putting down.  I knew I was at least five minutes early.  So it was going to be like this, was it?

“The others aren’t here yet,” I said, thinking my best chance was to stall them.

Higgs smiled a dangerous smile and came toward me quickly.  “Oh really? They’re not here yet?  Well you don’t mind if we get things started do you?  You’re not too chicken?”  That was rich, I thought, getting briskly to my feet and holding up my fists, coming from a boy about to fight four on one.  He came at me then before I could argue, bowled me right over and got two punches into my ribs before I could grab a handful of his hair and toss him to one side.  I stumbled half way up, my intention being to run, but Grady was on me before I could, twisting one arm behind my back.  Shit, was all I could think then, shit and fuck and fuck and shit.  Higgs was back on his feet and coming at me.  He winked at me.

“Think I’ll go first boys.  Think I’ll go first and teach the scummer a lesson!”

He rolled a fist up into my face and followed up with a kick to the stomach.  I would like to say for his sake, that it really hurt, that it was impressive, or whatever, but it really wasn’t, not one little bit.  No wonder he needed three more arseholes to help him out.  Grady let me drop, so I pulled my arm around and rubbed it quickly.  I knew I had to get up and run, before they all started on me.  Higgs was pacing around me, his circles getting tighter and tighter, his pansy arsed little face all screwed up with gloat and glee.  I wanted to kill him.  I felt that warm red flooding my mind again, and I was glad.  “Shall I tell you what my dad says about scummers like you?” he was saying as he walked.  Like I gave a shit what his dad said, or thought about anything.  “Scum like you, low life benefit scroungers like you and all your mates!  You know what he says?  Kill ‘em before they grow!”  He seemed delighted with this little pearl of wisdom, and suddenly so many things about him made sense to me.  He leapt in nimbly then, booting me in the chest and knocking me back down.  I struggled back up, shaking my head at him in disgust.  I was thinking of the cherubic faced boy I saw at school, holding doors open for teachers, and throwing his hand up enthusiastically in class.  I looked at the sneer of hatred twisting his face as he paced around me like a lion stalking his prey, and I felt a kind of dumb shock at the difference in him.

“You’re a cowardly little prick,” I told him then.  “That’s what you are. Don’t want to wait for a fair fight like we arranged!”

“I came to fight you, not your reject friends,” he sneered back at me. “Don’t you get it?”

I shrugged. “Fine then.  Me and you.  Not a problem.”

He laughed, and the others laughed too, and it was like they had this secret little joke between them all, something they had planned and rehearsed and chuckled over, and me, I was the butt of that joke all right.

“Oh listen Bryans,” he said then, finally stopping his circling and standing right in front of me.  I got to my feet and faced him.  I showed him no fear because I didn’t feel any.  He was laughing at me, and the way he looked then, with his smooth curtains and his glinting eyes, he reminded me of some old fashioned army sergeant or something.  Some upper class snotty shit, utterly convinced of his own superiority.  “You don’t get it, do you?  So let me explain it to you! People like you and your slut mother, and your shitty scummer friends, they drag this town down, you know?”

“Talking shit,” I told him.  “Boring.  Get on with it.”

“They’re coming up!” one of the others yelled then, and I saw the alarm leap into Higgs eyes.  He was out of time, and he knew it.  I started to laugh, and looked over my shoulder.  Big mistake.  Higgs saw his advantage and took it savagely.  I felt his fist smash into my cheek, and I went down again.  Suddenly they were all at me.  I folded my arms over my head, and it was nothing but a flurry of feet coming in and out, and when I caught a glimpse of them, all their faces were shielded by their hanging, sweaty hair.

It was over quickly.  I heard their footsteps tearing away.  I heard Michael’s enraged screech as he thundered past me; “get back here you fucking bastards!”

Jake skidded to his knees out of nowhere. “Shit! Are you okay?”

I sat up, rubbing the grass from my hair.  “Think so.”

“Fucking arsehole bastard shits!” Billy exclaimed, arriving out of breath behind Jake, and planting his hands on his knees while he leant over to recover from his run up the hill.  “Can’t trust them!” he panted.  “Wankers!”

Michael had given chase for a while, but now we could see him sauntering back from the woods, his face dark as he shook his head at me.  “I can’t believe they did that! Are you okay Danny?”

I wrapped one arm around my middle and climbed gingerly to my feet.  I was a little bit shaken up, to be truthful.  That moment, when I’d been down, and all their feet had been coming at me, well, you don’t want to have too many moments like that, I suppose.  “You’re bleeding,” Billy told me with a nod.  I touched my top lip, which felt wet, and brought my finger down to inspect it.

“Oh.”  I could feel my nose leaking steadily now.  One of their kicks must have caught me on the nose, but I couldn’t remember feeling it, until now.  Michael patted me gently on the shoulder.

“Don’t you worry,” he told me.  “We’ll get ‘em back for this, I can promise you that.”  He fished around in his pocket and brought out a smoke and a lighter.  “Here, you look like you need this, but I tell you what, next time come and meet me first, yeah?”  I nodded, laughing a little.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Were you alone long?” asked Jake.

“Only about a minute!” I told them all.  Billy had picked my bike up for me, and we had turned towards home.  “I was just gonna’ have a quiet smoke and wait for you lot.”

“You dick,” Billy scolded. “We told you not to trust them.  That’s the kind of thing they always do.”  I nodded in reply.  I felt sort of stupid really.  We were plodding back down the hill, I was bleeding from my nose all over one of my best tops, and all I had managed to get in was that measly hair pull.  Pathetic.

“My mum’s gonna’ kill me,” I groaned then, limping along.  Michael patted my shoulder again.  His eyes were down, and very grave.  I wanted to smile at him then.  He reminded me of a soldier, but not in the way Higgs had.  He just looked young and dark and solemn, like those soliders you see in war movies, trudging on, battle weary and brave.

“No she won’t.  We’ll tell her you got attacked.  It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yeah right,” grinned Billy. “We came up here to discuss our homework, right?”

“You know what he said?” I remembered then, frowning at them all. “He said about us, he said we were scumbags dragging the town down…something like that.  Kill em before they grow, or something, he said.”

“Oh he really loves spouting that kind of shit,” Michael nodded seriously.  “He’s always on about stuff like that, to wind us up.  He thinks he’s better than everyone, I told you. Just ‘cause he lives in a posh house, and has posh parents.  He hates anyone who’s not just like him.  He used to pick on Jake because of his mum, and where he lives…used to pick on Billy for being ginger!”

“I am not fucking ginger,” Billy retorted with a growl.  “I am auburn.”

I grinned. “Wow his dad sounds like a real gentleman, I can see where Higgs gets his manners from.”

“Oh he’s such an arrogant twat!” Michael retorted, slinging his arm around my shoulder. “You ever see him you’ll just want to smash his face in.  We never even set foot in that shitty shopping centre, it might as well be a prison it’s got so many rules.”

“He was calling my mum a slut again,” I muttered.

“Ignore it,” advised Jake.  “You should hear what he calls mine.”

“And mine,” said Billy.  “You know, this one time, we were in the video shop, it was when we were about ten, or something, and he called my mum a commie loving freak right to her face!  His dad just laughed! Just like ruffled his hair or something and went oh kids eh, as if it was nothing!”

We arrived back at my house, and Billy and Jake hung back out on the pavement, evidently less than keen to run into my mother.  Michael however, walked confidently up to the back door with me and rapped upon it loudly.  I realised then that I had yet to see him show fear over anything.  He looked at me, as I stood there, shoulders drooping, a bit dazed by it all, and he said softly; “don’t worry mate.”  I looked up blinking, as my mothers blurred form appeared on the other side of the glass, and for some reason then I had these stupid hot tears stabbing at my eyes.  I don’t know why, but for some reason, him saying don’t worry like that, seemed like the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me.  My mother wrenched open the door.

“What the hell have you been doing?” she screamed at my bloody face.

“He got beaten up,” Michael explained for me, as I stepped wearily inside. “By some boys at the park.  It wasn’t his fault.”

“I just bet it wasn’t!” she retorted, and promptly closed the door on him.  I opened my mouth to protest, but then I saw the look on her face and decided against it.  Her eyes were wild and huge as they ran up and down me, and her hands were claws on her hips.

“It wasn’t my fault mum,” I said then, before her silence could persist any longer. “I was at the park and these boys attacked me for no reason, and Mike found me and brought me home.”

“You told me you were going to Billy’s house.”

“Yeah, I was, I just went to the park first.” I felt a bit muddled and strange as I looked at her then.  I could feel the blood still oozing from my nose, and I suppose I just half expected her to hug me or get me a tissue or something.  Just then Bradley appeared in the kitchen doorway, looked at the state of me and whistled through his teeth.

“Ooh, looks like you really pissed someone off,” he remarked, and I noted that he did not exactly sound sorry about this.  I looked back at mum.

“Went to the park to smoke my cigarettes more like,” she snapped at me.

“No!”

“Yes! I am missing cigarettes all the time Danny, do you think I am stupid?  Did you think I wouldn’t notice?  I know it’s you!”

I stared down at the floor.  I had no idea what to say to her.  Instead I watched the drops of blood landing, one after the other on the lino between my feet.  I became sort of fascinated by it.  “You know, I can’t believe a single word you say, ever,” she went on. “Everything that comes out of your mouth is a lie.  You say you’re off to Billy’s, and the next thing you come in the door all bloodied, and after the way you’ve been at school lately you really expect me to believe you didn’t go there for a good fight?”

“They attacked me,” I told her miserably, my bottom lip jutting out. “They really did.  I didn’t do anything.”

“I can’t believe you.”  Her voice was like grit.  “Do you steal my cigarettes?”

“Yes…sometimes…but…”

“Did you damage Franks car?”

The question came out of nowhere.  I had totally forgotten about the stupid car.  I felt myself growing cold.  I opened my mouth, but there was nothing to say, so I closed it again.  I stared at the floor as her eyes burned into me endlessly.  There was suddenly a huge lump in my throat that would not go away, no matter how many times I swallowed it, and those stupid tears seemed perilously close again.  “We’ll take your silence as a yes,” she said then, her tone laced with disgust.  I kept my eyes on the floor.

“You’re lucky I don’t call the police,” said Bradley from the door.

“Very lucky,” my mother agreed stonily.  “I am literally at the end of my tether with you Danny.  Just when I think you can’t stoop any lower, you go and surprise me yet again.  You give me nothing but trouble.  You lie, you steal, you fight…”

I had heard enough, so I pushed past Bradley and limped towards the stairs.  I heard her furious footsteps pounding after me.  “I hope you really are hurt you know!” she yelled. “I hope it teaches you a bloody lesson!  Maybe that’s exactly what you need!  Someone to take you down a peg or two, and stop you being such an arrogant little shit!”

I made it to my room and slammed the door behind me.  She sounded like she hated me,  I thought, turning and leaning with my back against the door.  I couldn’t do anything to stop the tears then, and I didn’t try, as it didn’t matter now that no one could see them.  They flowed down my face, mingling with snot and blood and right then, I felt like the lowest of the low, like the kind of scum that drags people down.

6

 

May 1993

The plan was partly detailed in my notebook, and partly kept inside our heads.  It made me smile every time I thought about it, and every time I looked at my mother and sensed her lies, I would think, well you don’t know everything either.  Michael was like the driving force behind it, spending hours in my room with me, coming up with tricks and pranks, and ways we could get rid of Bradley.  More often than not we would end up rolling around the floor with laughter.  It helped a lot, having him on board, in fact I still couldn’t believe how quickly he had come to my aid.  I’d never had a friend like that before.  I’d never known anyone who wanted to help you, even if it meant them getting in trouble themselves.  I buckled down at school, those next few weeks.  I avoided trouble with Higgs.  I had to really.  I had to stay in mothers good books in order for her let her guard down.  She relaxed you see, when I wasn’t being a pain.  She thought I wouldn’t notice her new hair style and her new clothes.  She thought things like that went over my head, but they fucking didn’t.  I watched her from a safe distance, and heard her giggling softly down the phone.  Sometimes she was late home from work, and we all knew why, but nothing was said, everything was a cover up, you see.  I thought about her when I wrote in my book, and I thought about her when I listened to music.  She was always in my head back then.  It was like a constant war going on within me, and probably within her too.  Sometimes I looked at her and felt nothing, like I had been adopted or something.  Sometimes I wondered where I had come from.

Billy had got me into The Clash, and they were old, but fucking amazing.  I felt jealous of anyone who had been young back then, when punk was all kicking off.  It must have been amazing!  All that rebellion and fighting back!  Yes!  There was this one line, from ‘Lost In The Supermarket’ that I really liked, and it kind of summed up the way I felt when I looked at my mother at that time; I wasn’t born, so much as I fell out, no one seemed to notice me, there was a hedge back in the suburbs, over which I never could see.  It was something like that, anyway, and I loved it.  Not just the bit about falling out, because I could really relate to that, but the bit about the hedge.  Obviously I didn’t imagine a real hedge, more like the way there is always something in the way, stopping you from seeing the truth.  Like you have to wait until you have grown before they will let you see anything.  Does that make sense?  Well, it did to me.

Of course, I eavesdropped when I could.  I was an expert at it.  It was my way of gathering information, stocking up on ammunition.  “You can’t really blame him,” I heard John saying to her one day.  They were in the kitchen.  But if I leaned over the banisters I could hear them just fine.  “After the last guy, I mean.  That was no fun for any of us.”

“God, am I really going to be paying for that forever?” she had shot back at him.  I could tell by her voice that she had a fag on the go.  “Christ, we are all allowed to make mistakes you know!  Plus, yes, me and Danny had an agreement, but he’s broken his side of it, so why can’t I break mine?  I like Frank, okay?  He’s a decent bloke.”

I wanted to direct words into Johns head then.  I wanted him to say what I was thinking.  You always say that!  You always think that!  And you are always wrong!  John just sighed at her patiently.  “Well you’ll have to deal with all this yourself when I’m gone,” he chose to remind her instead. “So I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I’m an adult John, darling!  Thank you for your concern, but you really don’t need to worry about a thing.  Frank is a nice guy, we are having a bit of fun, and as for Danny, well the day I take orders from a thirteen year old kid is the day hell freezes over, all right?”

All right.

I had to wait a bit of course.  Bide my time, like always.  I had detentions to see out at school, which sort of got in the way of the plan.  Detentions were torture.  Just knowing the gang were out there somewhere, having fun and laughing without me, gave me this deep physical pain in my body.  This ache of longing that I could barely stand.  But finally, my patience was rewarded.  Mum invited the wonderful Frank over for dinner.  You could tell this was her way of being adult about things.  “You can meet him,” she had told me, her tone very dark and full of warning.  I merely grinned in anticipation.  This of course was exactly the opportunity I needed.  “Then you can see for yourself what a nice normal guy he is, and stop worrying, how about that?”

“Fine,” I told her, meeting her eye.  “Brilliant.  Bring it on.”

At school, I told Michael that the plan was on, and that he needed to be part of it.  His eyes lit up and his grin touched his ears.  “Be at mine for six,” I told him.  “You’re the uninvited dinner guest.  You’re locked out your house or something, okay?”

The plan was perfect, and the thought of it tickled me no end as I stood out in the back garden that afternoon, kicking a football against the house.  I had a fag on the go, and this was the first thing John noticed when he appeared around the corner and glared at me.  “You are not supposed to be smoking!” he barked at me, all fatherly like.  I stopped kicking the ball and laughed at him.

“You’re not supposed to be such a dick, but hey, that’s life!”

He sucked in his breath for a moment.  Then he took a step backwards.  “Right then, you can deal with this yourself.  I’m going out. Tell mum I got that job at the shopping centre.  Tell her I went to work!”  He said this as if I should care or something.  I just flicked ash at the grass and laughed at him.

“Ooh no, I won’t have big brother to hold my hand, what will I ever do?”

“Idiot,” he told me, and marched off.

“Arsehole!” I yelled after him.  I chucked the cigarette down when I heard my the car pulling up out the front.  I came around the house slowly, and cautiously.  I watched her get out of her little orange Fiat, and I watched the guy get out the other side.  I could tell right away that they were involved.  Only an idiot would have thought otherwise.  It was all in their body language, their secret smiles, their soft laughter and crinkled up eyes.  He was tall and slim, with floppy blonde hair.  He could have been any age to me; twenty two or forty two.  I folded my arms and regarded him as simply another opponent, and I already had a feeling that this one was going to be easy.  Mum clocked me and right away looked shifty.  She cleared her throat, slammed the car door and approached me warily.

“Danny, this is Frank, Frank this is my youngest son Danny.”

The guy smiled awkwardly.  He didn’t stick out his hand or anything. “All right?” he said instead, hands in pockets.  He was wearing a sharp silver grey suit.  Looked exactly like I thought he would.  He had car salesman stamped all over him, and Michael was right, he had sleaze stamped all over him too.  I took him by surprise then, plastering this dopey look all over my face and thrusting my hand out at him desperately.

“Good to meet you!” I beamed.  He looked momentarily terrified of course.  Your mothers’ boyfriends never want you to be too friendly.  They want you to like them of course, only not too much.  If you hadn’t already guessed, too friendly was the approach I was going for with this guy.  I pumped his hand really hard, and followed them eagerly into the kitchen, while my mum shot me nervous looks over her shoulder.

“What do you want to drink Frank?” I asked him right away, as he pulled up a chair.  He looked stunned again.  I guessed my mum had probably warned him I would be a pain in the arse or something.

“Um, I don’t know…a beer maybe?  If you have one?”

“We have beer,” I told him, fetching one quickly from the fridge.  I gave it to him, grinned like a lunatic and sat down next to him.  My mother was just staring at me then.  She was frozen to the spot in horror and confusion. I choked back laughter and gazed back up at her.

“I have to get changed,” she said then, her voice coming out slowly, as if her brain was slightly detached from her mouth.  “We’re having takeaway.  You guys can decide.”

“I’ll get the leaflets,” I announced eagerly, leaping up again to grab the pile of takeaway fliers that had gathered up on the hall table.  My mother passed me, as she headed up the stairs. She had one hand wandering around in her hair, and the other hanging limply before her.  She opened her mouth as if to say something to me, and then seemed to change her mind and hurried up the stairs instead.  “Oh John’s at work!” I called up to her brightly.  She froze on the top step and stared down at me frowning.

“What work?”

“I dunno,” I shrugged. “He said he had a job.  Oh, I better not leave Frank alone out there!”  I rushed back into the kitchen, my chest swelling with some sort of glory.  I had a bounce in every step, and after another fifteen minutes with Mr. Bradley, I was grinning so much my face hurt.  He was squirming away by then, his eyes flicking constantly to the door, desperately waiting for my mother to come and get him off the hook.  “She really likes you,” I told him for about the twentieth time.  This alone seemed to be unnerving him.  I was sat as close as I could get to him, my knee pressing against his.  “You pick the dinner,” I kept telling him.  “Go on you pick.  I don’t mind.  I’ll eat anything.  And she won’t touch a thing.  She’s always on a diet or something.”

Bradley had the leaflets in a neat little pile.  He kept tapping them against the table to shuffle them into place.  “Oh no, no, we’ll wait for your mother,” he told me with a weak smile.

“I need to talk to you about something actually,” I whispered then, leaning closer. “Before she comes back down!”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, like man to man, if you don’t mind?” I stared up at him, wide eyed and gorgeous, just like my mother had always said I was, as if I were pinning my boyish hopes entirely on him.  He looked dumbfounded and appalled. “It’s just,” I went on, with a little dip of the eyes and a sniff of the nose. “I don’t have my dad around you see…so I haven’t got anyone to talk to about these kind of things…”

“Uh, what kind of things?”  He got up from the table then.  He couldn’t stand it you see, me leaning in like that, gazing at him in hope.  Useless spineless selfish fuck like all of them.  I had victory already.  He got up and lingered in the doorway, crossing and uncrossing his arms, while he stared out at the hallway.

“Personal kind of things,” I went on eagerly, even though just being in the same room as him was making my stomach feel sick. “You know, father to son kind of things?”  That was the clincher of course.  Guys like him never want to hear the father word, or anything that might remotely point to a future.  He turned his back on me and walked to the hall table, tapping the leaflets against one palm.  I got up and watched him.

“I’ll call up the pizza place shall I?” he yelled up the stairs.  There was a tap at the back door.  It was Mike.  I ushered him in, triumph written all over my face, as I held up a hand for a silent high five.  He looked perturbed but pleased.

“Nice one,” he mouthed.  I nodded.  Jerked my thumb towards the hallway, where Frank Bradley could be heard mumbling on the telephone.  “You’re locked out of home,” I whispered to Michael. “Got nowhere to go.”  He nodded in approval.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Just follow my lead.”

Just then mum strolled casually into the kitchen.  Frank Bradley was right behind her, his eyes bulging at the rear view of her tight fitting jeans.  I felt a hard tightening in my chest, at the sight of her, and him closing in from behind.  She looked okay now, I thought in amazement.  She had this calm and knowing smile stretched out across her face, and her eyes regarded me cooly as she stopped and took in Michael. “Danny, not now, we’re about to have dinner.”

“He’s locked out!” I cried at her, gripping him by the arm and dragging him forward. “Aren’t you Mike?  He’s got nowhere to go!”

“My mum went out,” Michael shrugged dutifully, hands in pockets. “Dunno when she’ll be back.  She’s always going off places and not telling me.”

I watched my mother suck in her breath, her rib cage rising up with her slim fitting t-shirt to reveal a slash of her belly.  She had her hands on her hips and her eyes on me.  They said, I know what you are doing, I can see right through you.  “I wonder why,” she murmured instead, and turned to Bradley. “Let’s go and sit down.  The boys can call us when the pizza arrives.”

I waited until they had closed the lounge door behind them, before I turned to Michael and grinned. “It’s going well then?” he asked, slipping into a chair at the table.  He lolled in it, one arm dangling off the back.  I sat down next to him.  I clasped my hands together.  I was starting to sweat.

“I had him getting all hot and bothered,” I whispered. “You know, threw a load of cringey stuff at him.  Gotta pile it on thick though.”

Michael snorted in amusement. “I thought he was looking all hot and bothered for a different reason.”

I rolled my eyes. “Shut up.  You have to help me.  Say anything you like.  Do anything you like.  Just help me make him squirm, yeah?”

“Understood,” he nodded and saluted me.  “Don’t worry.  I know who his last few girlfriends were.  Could be pretty awkward!”

Together, Mike and I hit Bradley with everything we had.  We started slow, we started gentle, but by the time the pizza was half demolished, we had given up on being subtle.  We made sure we remained polite, over eager, and over friendly, so that way my mother could not send us out of the room, or anything.  We did most of it out of her earshot too.  Questioned him about his past girlfriends, what went wrong and why.  Interviewed him for possible father material.  Asked his advice on girls at school.  Whatever we said made him turn crimson.  Just looking at him made the poor man twist and writhe in his seat.  Finally, he could take no more, and scuttled off home, throwing some poor excuse my mums way.  To give her credit, she took it well, as if she had been expecting as much.  I felt like yelling one nil or something, as he sidled out of the door, but I couldn’t let myself.  I couldn’t look at Michael by then either.  He had been shuddering and snorting throughout most of the dinner, trying and failing to contain his personal amusement.  My mother merely watched Frank leave, sighed and got to her feet, casting a weary eye over the two of us.  “That went well,” I had the nerve to comment as she headed towards the hall way.  “Didn’t it mum?”

“Fine.  Would have been nice to get some time alone with Frank, but oh well, I’ll see him tomorrow I suppose.”

“I think he’s really nice,” I beamed at her.  Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, before she smiled, revealing her teeth.

“Good,” she said. “Very good.  I’m glad you feel like that Danny.  Because so do I.  So maybe you won’t mind seeing a whole lot more of him from now on, eh?”  She lifted her eyebrows at me, sipped her wine, and tossed her hair as she left the kitchen.  I could hear Michael drumming his fingers against the table top, and when I turned to look at him, he licked his lips at me.

“Sounded like a challenge to me mate.”

I nodded at him stiffly. “Yeah.  So much for just fucking friends, eh?”  I felt the anger twisting within me.  “Her fucking boss,” I growled.

“Plenty more to play for,” Michael reminded me casually. “That was just the beginning.  He won’t want to be anywhere near your mum by the time we’ve finished with him.”

 

7

I was waiting for something.

I felt it in my bones.  I felt it in my muscles when I moved.  In my veins, and under my skin.  Everywhere.  I felt it everywhere.  I was waiting, and the feeling told me I would not have to wait much longer.  Call it intuition.  Or instinct.  Whatever.  I trusted it, and I knew it.  I’d never been wrong before.

I’d seen her.  The one I wanted.  She came in every Friday night with her friends.  I didn’t think they were her real friends.  She doesn’t look that comfortable with them anyway.  She looked like she was trying a bit too hard.  She threw her head back when she laughed.  She had wide blue eyes.  Beautiful.  She gazed into their faces when they talked.  She absorbed whatever they said, whatever they cackled.  Maybe they were her workmates, I thought. Yeah, made sense.  People she vaguely knew, people who knew only vague and superficial things about her. They didn’t care for details.  I thought, they were missing out.  Because there was something about her.

She hadn’t noticed me yet.  My intention.  I would remain unseen until I had learnt more.  I liked the way she dressed.  I noticed that first.  Classy.  If the dress had low cleavage then it would be knee length.  If the dress was above the knee, then the top was modest.   She had dark blonde hair. Not too trashy.  The fringe bounced into her eyes when she leant into the conversation.  She tucked it behind her ears, raised her hand to her mouth when she giggled appreciatively.  I didn’t imagine her friends were saying anything particularly interesting or useful.  I thought she liked to please.

When she walked to the bar, the crowd parted.  Eyes flicked up, then down.  Men stared back into their pints, and their foreheads creased with the clash of desire and fear.  She knew it, because she always walked tall.  Head held up, but not high.  A smile that was encouraging, yet modest.  She waited her turn politely, expecting no favours.  She was not surprised, but she was gracious when a man let her take his turn.  She folded her arms across the bar, clutching a ten pound note in one softly curled hand.  Dry white wine, and a Southern Comfort with coke.  I watched her walk back to her friends, and one night there was a man with them.

Unlike him, I didn’t feel fear.  I was not afraid of her.  He had young, arrogant good looks, yet he was feebly unable to handle her.  I felt a flush of interest, of the feeling of watching a story about to unfold.  They were in it, and have not realised that I will be too.

It’s wasn’t going to happen slowly, over time, spread out evenly over dutiful Friday nights.  When it happened it would happen fast and it would happen hard, and that would be it.  She’d know it just as I knew it.  She looked like an angel, I thought.  In defiance of the lines on her face, her eyes lit up with nothing but hope and the urge to see good in people.  She trusted.  She would trust me.