Breakers

by Doug Johnstone

  Outside the door was Flick, smoking a cigarette and leaning against the wall like she was waiting on a date. She saw him, stubbed out the cigarette and smiled. When she caught sight of Bean holding the box of puppies her smile got bigger. She opened the tower block door for the pair of them with an exaggerated bow.

  ‘Your chariot awaits,’ she said.

  Bean looked tiny in Flick’s double bed. Her eyes were sleepy but she was smiling as she hugged a cuddly elephant that Flick had given her. The white sheets on the bed and the classy bedside table and lamp made it feel like a hotel. Snook and the pups were nestled in a corner of the room, newspaper down on the wooden floorboards underneath them. Tyler said they should stay in the kitchen but Bean insisted, she wouldn’t let them out of her sight, and Flick didn’t care either way.

  It was after midnight, way past Bean’s bedtime. She had taken all of this in her stride. They were in a strange new home and she only had a few of her belongings with her, but she had taken to Flick immediately, her shiny hair, her big smile, her confident demeanour. Bean had insisted on taking her picture with the Polaroid, the picture now lying on the top of the pile next to her bed. Tyler glanced at it and realised that Flick seemed unearthly to Bean, a visitor from another planet. She had the same effect on him.

  Bean was drifting off, failing to keep her eyes open.

  ‘What if I have nightmares?’ Her words slipped into each other.

  ‘You won’t, not here. Only good dreams come in this house.’

  ‘But what if I do? Where will you be?’

  Tyler pointed at the door. ‘In the other bedroom, like I showed you.’

  ‘Will Flick be there too? Is she staying here?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Tyler said. ‘Now go to sleep.’

  ‘Am I going to school tomorrow?’

  ‘Of course,’ Tyler said. ‘Why wouldn’t you?’

  Bean’s tongue poked from her lips. ‘When Grace moved to a new house, she went to a different school, remember?’

  Tyler touched her cheek. ‘We’re not moving house and you’re not changing school.’

  ‘Good.’ Bean turned her head a little. ‘Where’s the toilet again?’

  ‘At the end of the hall. You just went.’

  ‘Oh yeah.’ She opened her one available arm. ‘Cuddles and kisses.’

  He hugged and kissed her then she drew Nellie the elephant tighter to her chest and rolled over.

  Tyler glanced at the world map on the wall, thought about distance, then went through to Flick’s parents’ room. Flick was sitting on the bed with a large glass of white wine, flicking through a guidebook to New York.

  ‘Have you been?’ Tyler said, looking at the book.

  She nodded. ‘It’s not all that.’

  ‘I’d love to go sometime.’

  ‘I’ll take you.’

  ‘You’ve done enough for us already.’

  Flick pointed in the direction of Bean’s room. ‘Is she OK?’

  ‘She will be.’

  ‘She’s a lovely kid.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘She’s lucky to have you for a big brother.’

  ‘I don’t know about that.’

  ‘Of course she is.’ Flick patted the bed next to him and he sat down by her side.

  They were silent for a while, Tyler aware that she was examining him, looking for something.

  ‘I owe you an explanation,’ he said finally.

  She sipped her wine. ‘You don’t owe me anything.’

  ‘I really do. You hardly know me.’

  ‘I know enough.’

  Tyler waved a hand around the room, at the expensive hardwood dresser, the memory-foam mattress, the writing desk by the window.

  ‘Letting us stay here,’ Tyler said. ‘It means so much.’

  Flick shrugged. ‘It’s lying empty. It’s no bother.’

  Tyler hung his head, thinking about Monica and Angela in their hospital beds.

  ‘It wasn’t safe for us back there.’ He paused for a long time. ‘With Barry. I’ve sheltered her from him as much as I can, but things have got worse recently. Much worse.’

  ‘Has he hurt her?’ Flick said.

  ‘Tonight for the first time. I swore to myself if he ever laid a hand on her I would get her out of there. I can’t protect her.’

  Flick laid a hand on his and he looked up.

  ‘But you are protecting her,’ she said.

  ‘Maybe I’m just bringing trouble to your door.’

  Flick rubbed the back of his hand then pointed at his bruised eye. ‘Was that him?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Has he done that before?’

  A sarcastic laugh escaped Tyler’s mouth. ‘Just a bit.’

  Flick sipped her wine then sucked her teeth. ‘You should tell the police.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘He would kill me. And Bean.’

  ‘He wouldn’t get the chance.’

  ‘You don’t know him.’

  Flick sighed. ‘You can’t stay here forever.’

  Tyler cricked his neck, suddenly exhausted. ‘I just need some time to come up with a plan.’

  Flick looked at a picture on the wall, her mum and dad looking uncomfortable. ‘How’s your mum doing?’

  ‘Same, as far as I know. I left at three o’clock and they haven’t been in touch. She might’ve come round by now. Do they call if patients wake up?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  Flick took a final gulp of her wine and set the glass down on the bedside table. Something occurred to Tyler, something Bean had asked. ‘Do you have to get back to Inveresk?’

  She thought that over for a moment. ‘I don’t think so. The girls will cover for me in the house.’

  ‘It seems very easy for you to come and go from that place.’

  Flick raised her eyebrows. ‘They make the mistake of treating us like adults. As long as I’m back there early in the morning it’ll be fine.’

  Tyler couldn’t help a smile coming across his face.

  ‘Don’t get any funny ideas, though,’ she laughed. ‘I’m not that kind of girl.’

  ‘I never thought you were.’

  Another wave of exhaustion swept over him and he felt his eyelids get heavy. ‘I need to sleep.’

  ‘Just get under the covers.’

  He looked at her for a moment then kicked his shoes off. He pulled the sheets back and got in fully clothed. She did the same at her side, and slid across to hold him. The warmth of her body and the scent of her filled his senses, and he began falling asleep.

  ‘Will I put the light off?’ she said.

  He was almost gone.

  ‘Leave it on,’ he said. ‘In case Bean comes through. She’s afraid of the dark.’

  He was woken by the sound of breaking glass.

  He sat up in bed and looked around. Flick was out for the count next to him, her breath rattling in her nose. He flipped the covers off and strode through to the other bedroom. Bean was lying sprawled out, arms wide like she was looking for a hug, her face loose and relaxed. He lifted her duvet from the floor and threw it over her.

  Maybe he’d imagined it.

  Then he heard a thump downstairs. He knew that sound, as if someone had climbed in through a broken window. He looked around Bean’s room for something heavy, something he could get a good swing with. Couldn’t see anything. He thought he heard the crunch of broken glass underfoot. The number of times he’d heard that noise before, all the houses he’d helped rob with Barry and Kelly. He wondered if it was them, if they’d followed him somehow. Or maybe the Holts, finally catching up.

  He opened the top drawer of a dresser and found a craft kit with scissors. He lifted them out, held the handles in his fist and left the room. Stood at the top of the stairs, listening. Wondered if he could go downstairs quietly enough to make it to the kitchen and get a proper knife. He’d stupidly left the knife he’d brought down there.

&nb
sp; He started down the stairs and heard more noise from the living room. Someone swearing under their breath. He was halfway down the stairs now, his hand sweating on the handles of the scissors, his legs shaking as he tried to take deep breaths. There was no more noise for a few moments, only his heartbeat in his ears, the faint creak of the stairs under his feet. He’d read once that treading on the edge of a step rather than the middle would reduce the noise, but he’d never known it to work in all the jobs he’d been on. But he still tried it, hugging the wall as he crept down till he was at the bottom, readying himself, feeling his weight against the earth, his balance and poise.

  He heard a dull thud, someone bumping into a piece of furniture in the dark maybe. He took a few steps towards the kitchen, away from the living room, keeping an eye over his shoulder as he went, and got as far as the kitchen doorway.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

  He felt pressure lift as he recognised the voice. Not Barry or Deke but that posh kid Will.

  He turned. ‘I’m staying here.’

  Will was incredulous. ‘You’re fucking Flick?’

  Tyler lowered the scissors a little, felt his body relax. ‘I just needed a place to crash for a bit.’

  Will took a step towards him. ‘And you and Flick are such good friends now.’

  ‘She’s helping me out.’ Tyler frowned as Will took another two steps. ‘Anyway, what are you doing here?’

  Will looked smug. ‘Just getting my own back.’

  Tyler looked at him, then around at the darkness, the faint light from the upstairs landing striping between the banisters. ‘You could’ve broken a window anytime. Why come in at night, particularly when Flick is here?’

  Will stepped closer. ‘You have a dirty mind. I’m not some sex pest.’

  Tyler gripped the scissors tighter and raised them an inch or two. ‘I saw you sexually assault her last time.’

  Will checked him out, up and down. ‘How old are you? She’s a cradle snatcher.’

  ‘My age is irrelevant.’

  Will shook his head. Another step. ‘You don’t know anything about women.’

  ‘Next you’ll be telling me when they say “no” they mean “yes”.’

  Will raised his shoulders like a mob gangster. ‘That’s actually true.’

  He looked at the scissors as he took another step. He was only a couple of feet away, moving smoothly and calmly. ‘What do you plan doing with those? That’s attempted murder.’

  Tyler tried to keep his hand steady. ‘Self-defence, reasonable force. You’ve entered the premises illegally.’

  ‘Listen to the lawyer.’ Will thought for a moment. ‘You’ve been in front of a judge before, haven’t you?’

  He took another step.

  ‘Stop right there,’ Tyler said.

  Will lunged at Tyler, slapping away the hand with the scissors so that they clattered across the kitchen floor. He pushed his shoulder into Tyler’s chest, knocking the breath out of him as the two of them tumbled into the kitchen, Tyler’s back slamming against the island worktop, Will over him, a forearm across his throat, his other fist connecting with Tyler’s stomach. Tyler gasped and tried to breathe as Will kicked at his knee, more pain as Tyler looked around for something to give him leverage. Will was taller and had a couple of stone on him, a rugby player probably, used to rucking with the big boys, throwing his weight around. Tyler could see a block full of expensive knives but it was over on the other worktop, might as well be a million miles away. He began to feel lightheaded, blisters of light in his vision. Will leaned in to gloat and Tyler took his chance, aiming his forehead at Will’s nose, which burst open in a spray of blood. But Will didn’t loosen his grip, just pushed harder with his forearm into Tyler’s throat, spitting blood into his face. His other fist connected again with Tyler’s stomach, then with the side of his head, his skull thunking onto the marble worktop as another punch caught his eyebrow and he felt himself beginning to drift away from consciousness.

  Then suddenly the pressure eased and Will stood back, releasing Tyler’s throat and holding his hands up. As he backed away, Tyler saw Flick standing behind him with a gun pressed against his temple.

  ‘Flick,’ Will said, voice shaky. ‘What are you doing?’

  She was calm. ‘Get away from him.’

  ‘Take it easy.’

  Flick removed the gun barrel from Will’s head and came to stand beside Tyler, keeping the gun pointed at Will.

  ‘I’ll take it easy when you get the hell out of my house.’

  Will had his hands in front of him like he could fend off a bullet if she fired.

  Flick glanced at Tyler. ‘You OK?’

  He’d straightened up and was gasping, his hand at his eye. ‘Fine.’

  She looked at Will.

  ‘I didn’t mean anything,’ he said. ‘It was just a little fun.’

  Flick held the gun steady. ‘Get out.’

  Will backtracked out of the kitchen, eyes on the pistol in Flick’s hand. ‘Do you know what you’re doing with that thing?’

  ‘Would you like to find out?’

  ‘OK, I’m going.’

  She walked to the hallway with Tyler following and watched as Will left through the front door. As soon as he was out she fastened the deadbolt and security chain, leaned against the door with her forehead and let out a breath.

  Tyler stared at her. ‘Thanks. Again.’

  ‘No worries.’

  ‘Do you know what you’re doing with that thing?’

  She lifted her head off the wood, looked at the gun. ‘I do.’

  ‘Where did you get it?’

  She slid something across on the handle, Tyler presumed it was the safety. ‘My dad got it in Iraq. Black market. He doesn’t know I know about it. Mum told me, just in case.’

  Tyler shook his head.

  Flick smiled, looked at the door, then at him. ‘Let’s go back to bed.’

  33

  Bean was lining up to go into class. Tyler knelt down and straightened her collar, told her in a soft voice what he’d said earlier that morning about not telling any of her friends where they were staying. As he stood up, he got a call from an Edinburgh number he didn’t recognise. He tried to think who it could be. He let it ring as Bean went inside, nattering to Aisha and smiling. He stared at his phone as it kept ringing, aware that he was getting looks from the mums in the playground. Eventually he pressed answer.

  ‘Hello, is this Tyler Wallace?’

  A woman’s voice, not one he recognised. The sound of activity behind her, people being busy.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’m calling from the Edinburgh Royal Infirmary about your mum, Angela.’

  He tried to swallow. ‘What about her?’

  ‘She’s being discharged.’

  He looked at the women leaving the playground, the trees beyond swaying in a breeze, clouds crawling across the sky. He breathed.

  ‘So soon?’

  ‘She’s recovering well.’

  ‘Well’ wasn’t a word Tyler would use for her under the circumstances.

  ‘But she’s an addict,’ he said. ‘Isn’t there a programme, some help for her?’

  ‘She’ll have to take that up with her GP,’ the woman said. She had a kind voice but businesslike. She probably had this conversation ten times a day. ‘That’s not what we do here.’

  ‘She won’t go and see her doctor.’

  He heard a sigh down the phone. ‘Tyler, is it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’m sorry, son, believe me. Have you spoken to social services?’

  ‘They know all about us.’

  ‘Well, it’s more their kind of thing than ours, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Can’t you keep her in a little longer, give her more time to detox?’

  ‘The doctor gave her the all-clear first thing. We’re very tight at the moment and we need the bed. In fact someone else is already in it.’

  ‘Then where’s Mum?
’

  ‘At reception waiting for you.’

  ‘Christ,’ Tyler said. The playground was almost empty now, a couple of late stragglers traipsing into the entrance. ‘Why didn’t she call me herself?’

  There was a pause. ‘She has no money or phone. I offered to let her use this one.’ Another pause, and Tyler wondered what it was like to be a nurse all day. ‘I think she was ashamed to speak to you, to be honest.’

  Tyler looked up at the clouds, scudding a little faster than before, heading east, chasing each other to the sea.

  ‘I’ll come and get her,’ he said.

  She was sitting on the ground outside reception as if she was begging for change. She wore the same hoodie and sweatshirt that Tyler had thrown on her the other day, and was smoking a cigarette, sucking on it with thin cheeks.

  ‘My boy,’ she said. Her voice was croaky, hands shaking. Her skin was grey, deep bags under her eyes.

  ‘Come on,’ Tyler said. He held out a hand and she took it and got up slowly, grunting as she did.

  ‘Can we get a taxi? I’m not sure I can walk.’

  Tyler raised his eyebrows. ‘Have you got any money?’

  She looked at him like he was mad. Tyler still had some money that he’d skimmed from the Holts, but that was for Bean, he was damned if he was wasting it on this.

  ‘Me neither,’ he said. ‘Let’s walk.’

  ‘Maybe Barry could pick us up.’

  Tyler stared at her. They both knew Barry wouldn’t help and that it was dangerous to even ask, unless you wanted an earful of abuse or worse.

  It took them forty-five minutes to get home along Little France Drive, a walk Tyler could’ve done on his own in ten. Angela kept stopping and wheezing, looking around at the waste ground and the trees up the hill in the distance, Tyler standing waiting for her. He remembered the drive the other way, Flick behind the wheel and Angela in the back, drool from her mouth, her skin blue. He wondered if Flick got a ticket for pummelling down the bus lane.