Tracks

by Karen Woods

  ‘Where’s your wife? I thought she was going to be here too?’

  ‘She’s on her way.’

  Donny could see the envelope in her hand and just wanted to get it over with. Panic fluttered in his chest. Maybe he could pay her off, give her some cash to rip the envelope up unopened, make her promise that he’d never have to see her or Dan again.

  The moment seemed to last forever.

  Bethany sat down next to him on the bench and pulled out a cigarette packet out of her pocket. She offered one to Donny, but he refused. He wanted nothing from her, only the truth. He could smell stale tobacco on her clothing; she stank of it. He didn’t take his eyes off the letter.

  Bethany sparked up and sucked hard on the cigarette. ‘I don’t know why you’ve even wasted your money on a test. Dan is your son, why you don’t believe me I’ll never know.’

  ‘Fuck off, let’s not pretend you weren’t a shag-bag before you were with me. Who’s to say you weren’t sleeping with someone else? There were plenty of rumours you know.’

  ‘You cheeky fucker, how dare you speak to me like that?’ She thrust the letter into Donny’s hands. ‘Go on. Open it and we can put this to bed, you fucking arsehole.’ Bethany smirked and pointed to a woman approaching. ‘Is this the missus? A proper fancy piece, isn’t she?’

  Donny held his breath as he saw his Susan marching towards them. He’d have to watch her like a hawk; he reckoned she would scratch Bethany’s eyeballs out given the chance. She wasn’t a fighter but when her cage was rattled, she could give anyone a run for their money.

  Susan looked tired. Her hair was in a plait and she was dressed casually in jeans and a pale blue T-shirt. Dressed for a fight? Donny’s heart melted when he looked at her. He knew now how stupid he’d been to risk what he had with her. Messing around, keeping secrets, he’d kept her in the dark so many times. He realised he’d needed her to adore him, to believe the bullshit he’d fed her. He loved her with all his heart, but perhaps he’d broken hers one too many times.

  Susan shot a disdainful look at Bethany and sighed. ‘So, do we know if he’s your kid or what, Donny?’ She was blunt and straight to the point, she clearly didn’t care how she came across.

  Bethany interrupted. ‘The kid has a name. He’s called Dan, for your information.’

  ‘Means nothing to me, love. Just tell me if he’s your kid, Donny, and then I’ll be off.’

  They both looked at him. He had to open the envelope. Slowly, his index finger slid under the flap and he reached into the envelope and pulled out the letter. Susan was shuffling her feet, her breath getting louder and louder.

  Donny unfolded the paper and started to read. His eyes fell, and for once he was speechless.

  Bethany took this as her cue. ‘I told you you was his father, you prick. Now you can man up and start providing for him.’

  Susan’s legs buckled and she started to hyperventilate, gripping the side of the bench for support.

  ‘No,’ she sobbed. ‘No, this is not happening.’

  But Donny looked over at Bethany and jumped to his feet, shoving the letter in her face, ramming it under her nose.

  ‘I fucking knew it, you dirty scrubber, the kid isn’t mine. Read this. You life-wrecking bitch, get back under the rock you crawled from and take your bastard son with you.’

  Donny rushed to his wife’s side and wrapped his arms around her. ‘Baby, it’s negative. I’m so sorry you have had to go through this. I love you so, so much. The kid is fuck all to do with me.’

  Bethany was up in arms, reading the letter over and over. ‘It must be wrong; they must have messed the test up. It can’t be right. You’re Dan’s dad.’

  Susan pushed her husband out of the way and ran at Bethany. This was her war now, nobody messed with her life and got away with it. She gripped her by the throat. ‘He’s just told you that he’s not the fucking father so leave us alone. If I so much as hear you’ve tried to contact my husband again, I’ll rip every hair out of your bastard head.’

  Bethany fell to her knees. She screamed after them as she watched Susan and Donny walk off into the distance. ‘He’s your son, Donny. He’s your fucking son.’

  But no one was listening. She stayed where she was, crying her eyes out until a noise from behind her made her stop and turn round. Somebody was there. She tried to get a better look. Nothing. Whoever it was had done a runner.

  Donny held his wife’s hand tightly. ‘Will you come home now, babe? I just want to put this mess behind us.’

  Susan took a deep breath and stopped walking. She turned to face her husband and narrowed her eyes. ‘You always come up smelling of roses, don’t you, Donny Knight. I’d just like to know what else you are hiding.’

  Donny pulled her closer and squeezed her tight. ‘It was years ago, babes, long before we met. I never in a million years ever thought she had had a kid, let alone me being his dad. I love you, babes, me and you always. Please just let’s get back to normal, I can’t stand you not being with me.’

  Susan was still looking at him like he was a shite on the bottom of her shoe. ‘Things change, Donny, I don’t know if I can ever trust you again. I feel like you’re a born liar,’ she said.

  ‘Susan, for fuck’s sake. Please don’t make me beg, I said I’m sorry, just let’s get back to normal and let me make it up to you. I can make this right, please let me try.’

  She looked at him, pursed her lips. ‘I’m not moving out, Donny, because after all I made that house, not you. Just don’t expect too much from me.’

  All Donny cared about was that his wife would be back in his bed, he would feel safe again, right now nothing else mattered. After a few days she’d calm down and everything would be back to normal. He’d buy her a gift, a flash handbag, yes, he smiled at the thought. Donny felt his usual bravado coming back. His missus loved him again and life would be back to normal in no time. And this time, he’d be careful – he’d come too close to losing it all.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Kevin sat on Eastford square and sucked slowly on his cigarette, tapping his foot. He felt like a cowboy hidden away in the darkness. He looked around. This was a waiting game but he knew that if he played his cards right, it would all work out. Good things come to those who wait and all that. The streetlights left pools of muted yellow light on the pavements. Kevin could hear shouting in the distance, and watched as a few youths started to gather, on the lookout for trouble. He didn’t know these kids but he recognised the type. He’d been one himself. He bet local residents complained, asked the council to move on the gangs and the trouble their bitter rivalries brought. But some things never changed, and after dark he knew the residents were effectively prisoners in their own homes.

  No one challenged these kids. They held no respect for anybody. They had nothing except what they’d fought for – and they’d fight to keep it.

  Kevin watched intently as he clocked a young lad in the distance serving up drugs to a man sat in a car. He knew the script well regarding dealing, no surprise given he had dabbled in drugs for years. He sat cracking his knuckles, until … bingo. He froze. That’s what he was waiting for. As soon as he spotted the lad starting to walk away from the car he jumped to his feet.

  It was showtime. His voice was cocky as his pace quickened. ‘Oi, can I have a quick word, mate?’

  The youth turned his head, didn’t know who the man was talking to. He was apprehensive. ‘Are you talking to me?’

  Kevin jogged over to him and led him to a dark corner where no one would see them. He had to play his part well if his plan was going to work out how he wanted.

  ‘Got any weed, mate? Ged said I would get some here. A bit of cheese or haze would be mint?’

  The teenager nodded and reached inside his pocket. ‘Yeah, I can give you anything you want, brown, white, you name it I can get it.’

  Kevin to
ok a deep breath before grabbing the boy by his neck and slamming him up against the wall. The kid looked terrified.

  ‘Who the fuck are you dealing for? Tell me now or I’ll kick ten tons of shit out of you. Fucking spill, don’t waste my time because trust me, I’ll snap your fucking jaw.’

  The boy was struggling to break free, but Kevin had him in a killer grip. ‘I’ll strangle you, mate, honest to God, if you don’t tell me who the main man is, I’ll end you. Start talking, prick.’

  But the kid couldn’t speak if he’d wanted to. All that came out were choking noises, the kid’s eyes were bulging in their sockets, his windpipe closing up, his lips now tinged with blue. He was whacking the side of his arm, trying to nod his head, he was ready to talk. Kevin finally released the grip enough to let him speak. The lad was gasping for breath, he fell to his knees, sucking in large mouthfuls of air. Kevin stood over him, ready to act if he needed to. He booted him in his stomach as a reminder that this was no game; this was serious shit. The kid’s voice was shaking as he cowered, waiting for the next blow.

  ‘I get it from Frankie, he sorts it all out. I don’t know where he gets it from. Honest, that’s all I know. Please leave me alone. I’m just trying to earn a few quid that’s all.’

  Kevin picked him up and threw him into the corner. He knelt down to his level and gripped him by the ears. ‘Don’t lie to me, tell me what you fucking know.’

  The kid was desperate now, still trying to get his breath. He had to give him something if he wanted to survive. He kept his voice low. If anyone heard him grassing his life would not be worth living. Snitches got stitches.

  ‘Frankie is the only one I know. Please, I don’t know any others. I’ve only been doing it a few months. He meets the big man and gets it off him. I just pay my money to Frankie, we all do. Honest, I swear down on my mam’s life, no crosses counted.’

  Kevin could tell he was telling the truth. He was shaking like a scared animal, cowering with his hands held up high trying to protect himself. He’d pissed himself too.

  ‘Where can I find Frankie?’

  ‘He’s at the park. I just spoke to him about ten minutes ago. You are the second person who’s been looking for him tonight. Another guy was on the square about an hour ago looking for him too.’

  Kevin patted the kid down and made him empty his pockets. There were a few bags of weed and around seventy pounds in cash. He pocketed it and smiled. ‘I’ll be taking this and when I get my hands on Frankie, I’ll be taking his shit too. I don’t know who you fucking young ‘uns think you are, running shit around here. It’s time you all learnt a lesson. This is my patch now.’

  The boy pulled his legs up to his chest and dropped his head low. He sat there shaking. For the first time he understood that this world was a very dangerous one indeed.

  Frankie perched on a wall in the park, kicking his legs against the cold bricks. He was scranning a piece of chicken and looked around as he filled his face. It was quiet tonight, not a lot happening. Frankie paused mid-bite as he suddenly heard rustling, branches crunching behind him. He turned to look. Nothing. He waited a few more seconds then carried on eating his food.

  He was getting paranoid lately; smoking weed was seriously affecting his mental health. Dickhead, he thought to himself, he should have stuck to selling the stuff, not sampling the goods. As he shook his head a large hand reached over and gripped him from behind.

  ‘Francis Owen, I’m arresting you for supplying class A drugs, you don’t have to say anything but anything you do say may be recorded and used in evidence against you.’

  Frankie spat a mouthful of food at the copper as the cuffs were slammed around his wrists. They were tight, the cold metal cutting into his skin.

  He was slammed to the floor, the side of his head pushed into the wet grass, then dragged back up onto his feet and marched to an unmarked car not far from where they stood. Once he was in the back the officer climbed in and sat next to him. A plain clothes officer. Frankie swallowed, this was not what he needed in his life. But he was caught, bang to rights.

  The copper studied Frankie. ‘I’m going to be straight with you. How long I keep you here will depend on you and what you tell me. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Let’s see how sensible you are.’

  Frankie was white, trembling. He knew the minute he was searched he’d be done for possession and the rest of it. Fuck, fuck, fuck. There was no hiding it. He had large amounts of cash on him and bags of weed ready to sell. This would be pure time in the big house, two or three years at least. He was old enough to go down properly – he couldn’t get away with young offenders or a slap on the wrist.

  The officer nodded his head slowly. ‘We’ve been watching you for a long time, Frankie. But we’re not interested in you. We want the big man, the one you deal for. I’ve seen you meet him a few times and I know who he is. Question is, are you willing to help us send this prick down? Or am I taking you down to the nick and throwing the book at you? It’s your call. Tell me what I need to know, and you’ll be out of here and we can forget anything has ever happened.’

  Frankie squirmed; he was no grass. ‘Nah, fuck off, I’m no snitch. You’ve got fuck all on me. What, a few bags of weed that I’m carrying and some money. I can account for the money if I have to. You know the dance. So, fuck off out of my face.’

  The officer shook his head. The kid had balls.

  ‘All right, let me tell you a bit more and then we can have a little chat. Do I need to go into your visits to Blackpool, the parcels you take and the money you bring back? I reckon you’ll be looking at a five stretch for sure. We’ve watched you for months, you’re the ringleader of all these young kids running drugs up and down. And,’ he paused, ‘we can prove it. So, my friend, we’ve got you by the short and fucking curlies.’

  Frankie’s eyes opened wider. This was a different ballgame now. Fuck that, he didn’t want to go to jail for years. But, on the other hand, would he be a Judas? He sat thinking, scratching the end of his chin, anxious. He stared out at the night sky and ran his tongue over his teeth. He’d always demanded loyalty from his lads, and he’d always thought he’d be the same, but then nobody would know what he’d done, would they? Who knew he was talking to the dibble anyway? He had to look after number one. There was no way he was getting slammed if he didn’t have to. He had to think about this but his head was all over the place. The guy could be setting him up, leading him down the garden path and stitching him up like a kipper. He had to play for time. ‘Have you got a cig?’

  The man reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a full deck of Benson & Hedges Gold. He flicked his lighter and lit two, passing one to Frankie.

  ‘So, tell me again how this works because I’m saying fuck all until I know the script. You pricks are well known for not sticking to your word.’

  The copper nodded his head slowly. ‘It works well for both of us. Let’s say I have an old score to settle with the big guy and I want payback. I’ve waited a very long time for this cunt and all I need now is a little more information. I’m not really arsed about the foot soldiers, I just want the top man.’

  Frankie sucked on his fag, thinking. The big boss had left him bruised because of what had happened to Ged. Said he’d picked the wrong kid – and that getting one of his foot soldiers stabbed would get the coppers looking at their little operation. He’d smashed his face into the dashboard of his flash car to ram the point home. That hadn’t exactly left Frankie in the mood to do him any favours. And, if he was being honest, he was sick to death of working for peanuts. The main man was getting the real cash, Frankie was getting pennies and he was the one taking all the risks. It wasn’t fair, was it? Frankie sighed.

  ‘I’m keeping the money I have on me and the weed though. If I tell you what you want to know, how do I know you’re not going to come for me again when this is all over? You pigs are bent as fuck.’


  The officer blew the smoke through the side of his mouth. ‘Listen, you can do well working for me, kid. I’ll look after you. This can be our little secret; you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours. I’ll look after you, like I said.’

  Frankie was thinking out loud now. If he was going to squeal he had to get everything he could. ‘The big man’s been good to me though, he helped me out when I needed someone.’

  The officer let out a laboured breath. ‘You mean he helped himself to a young kid to do his dirty work for him. Who’s the one with all the cash here, you or him? Where’s your top gaff, your nice car?’

  Frankie still wasn’t sure, grassing was against everything he believed in. But going to jail, no way, he couldn’t hack being banged up for years. He loved his freedom too much. There was an awkward silence before Frankie cleared his throat. ‘Right, I’ll tell you what you need to know.’

  The copper nodded. ‘I want you to set up a meeting. You’ll need to hand over money or pick up more drugs. I need to catch him in the act.’

  ‘Fucking hell, that’s on top, he’ll know something is not right if I’m not arrested too, won’t he?’

  ‘No, I’ll time it so you’re out of the picture. Like I said, I’m only after that cunt, not you.’

  Frankie fidgeted nervously. ‘I’ve got to drop some money off tomorrow night. I meet him at the bottom of Fernclough Road, near the Spice Cabin, in the car park.’

  The officer rubbed his hands together. ‘Right, that’s sorted. Let’s go through all the finer details and then you can be on your way. You’ve done the right thing, pal. This fucker has taken advantage of you for a long time and it’s about time he got what was coming to him.’

  Frankie stared out of the window as he leant his head against the glass. He was a grass. Eventually he let himself out of the car. As he walked away he looked smaller, younger.