Upon opening his front door he felt a draft blow from the kitchen but it did not really register with him that this was strange. Instead, he made his way upstairs taking his shirt off as he went. He turned the light on in his bedroom, threw his shirt onto his bed and turned away, not registering the sight before him. However, he quickly turned back around and looked again into his room.
The broken chair, the open attic hatch and the ladder was down where he had definitely not left it. For now though, he did not panic. It was quite feasible for the hatch to drop and the ladder to drop too. Hell, how many times had he not put the ladder up properly and then have it nearly knock him out as it dropped towards him? Lots of times. What was puzzling though was how the chair had managed to walk itself over from his desk to underneath the ladder? Still, he did not panic and decided to check the house for any signs of a break-in.
Peter scampered downstairs and felt the draft again and this time it did register. He threw open the kitchen door and turned on the light. There was glass scattered all over the kitchen floor and now the panic did set in. He ran back upstairs into his bedroom and quick as a flash scaled the ladder. Throwing open the red suitcase he looked inside it, looked away and then looked in again as if he expected the missing drugs to reappear between the moments he looked. He slid back down the ladder and for a few moments he paced around his bedroom trying to regain his temper. He failed, miserably. He kicked the ladder and then screamed at the top of his voice. ‘You fucking BITCH!’
*
Sarah had reached home and had taken a couple of hits of heroin and was just falling into a drug fuelled state of ecstasy when distantly, seemingly from another planet, she heard a loud banging. With her belt still fastened around her arm, she stumbled over to the window and noticed a car parked askew across the street. The banging happened again and from outside she heard someone shout, a male voice.
‘Open this fucking door or I’ll knock it down!’ There was no response so the battering commenced again. It must have been loud and violent because after this attack on the door and another threatening verbal comment, Sarah heard the door open.
‘Can I help you deary?’
‘Yes you fucking can you alcoholic bitch. Where the fuck is your druggie daughter?’
‘She’s out I think. Do you want to come in and have a cup of tea and wait for her?’
‘A cup of tea?! A cup of fucking tea?! Go and get her or I’ll come in there and get her myself!’
Sarah peered across the street and noticed that some of the neighbours were either stood at their windows or stood at their front doors. In her lingerie and with the belt still tied around her arm, Sarah stumbled downstairs.
Peter spotted her appear at the foot of the stairs. ‘You know what I’m here for Sarah. Get them and then I’ll go and leave you to your pathetic life!’
‘Mum, go and sit down.’
‘Okay deary.’
Her mum went back into the living room and Sarah turned to confront Peter. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Yes you damn well fucking do! Go and get them and then I’ll leave!’
By now both of Sarah’s neighbours were stood in their respective gardens watching the scene unfold, one of them clearly staring at Sarah’s lacy lingerie clad large breasts. ‘Oh right, do you mean the drugs that you’ve been dealing? I don’t know where they are.’
‘Considering you’ve got a fucking BELT tied round your arm Sarah, I think you do know what I mean! You’ve got ten seconds to go and get them otherwise I am going to come in there and beat the shit out of you and your mum you little fucking druggie! Go and get MY FUCKING DRUGS!’
Sarah turned to one of her neighbours, a huge man, ex-marine and hard as iron girders. ‘See Bob, he is a drug dealer. Didn’t your youngest die because of a drug overdose?’
Bob nodded in the affirmative. ‘I’ll tell you what sunshine, why don’t you get back in your car and stop disturbing the peace otherwise I’ll step over this fence and rip you apart!’
‘Fuck you old man! Sarah, be sensible and go and get me what I want, there’s a good girl.’
Peter did not see or hear Bob step over the low fence and he did not realise that he was behind him until he felt a large arm wrap around his neck and drag him down into a headlock.
‘I don’t like dirty drug dealing scumbags coming into my neighbourhood, threatening my good neighbours, breaching our peace and waking me up! Now, we’re going to walk over to your car and you’re going to get into your car and go back to whatever drain you crawled out of okay?’
There was no reply so Bob squeezed Peter’s neck a little harder. ‘Okay?’
‘Yes!’ Peter replied in a raspy, breathless voice.
Dragging him by the neck he walked Peter over to his car and pushed him against it, twisting his arm up his back, applying a lot of pressure that made Peter wince in pain.
‘You ever, ever come to this area again and I will rip you limb from limb. Savvy?’ Peter nodded. ‘Good. Now get in your car and fuck off!’ Bob quickly released Peter and slammed his head into the roof of his car then quickly stepped away from him and folded his huge arms across his huge chest.
Peter turned to face him. ‘This isn’t the last you’ll hear about this old man. And as for you little drug taking slag, you’ll get yours!’ With that Peter got in his car and screeched and sped away. After he had gone, without saying a word to anyone, Sarah quietly closed her front door and returned back to her bedroom.
Afterwards, when the events were discussed by Sarah’s neighbours, she was oblivious to them. She stayed hidden away in her bedroom, taking the heroin, becoming more and more dependent on it, more and more addicted. As for Peter he had to explain to his supplier how he had managed to lose a few hundred pounds worth of heroin.
Chapter 27
‘You did what?!’
‘Reg, I didn’t do anything. I was burgled and some of the heroin, not all of it, was stolen.’
‘Did you just leave it round the house so any fuckwit could break in and steal it?!’
‘No, of course not. It was hidden away but they found it.’
‘Well it was clearly not hidden well enough!’
‘Yes, I know that now. Look, Reg, I’ve had the best night I’ve ever had. I’m making you more and more money and I believe it is only going to get better. Fair enough, this is a blip, a mistake, but a blip on an otherwise unblemished record. I’m going to learn from it and make you even more money, I promise.’
‘You promise? You fucking promise? He fucking promises Kevin. Ickle Peter promises!’
Reg took a deep breath and was clearly trying to regain his composure. ‘It is just as well you’ve been good so far otherwise you’d be in the river sleeping with the fishes. I don’t usually give people chances, usually it’s one mistake and…’ Reg ran his fist across his throat. ‘But, you’re right, you have sold a lot and I am pleased about that. How much do you reckon was stolen?’
‘About three to four hundred pounds worth.’
‘Let’s call it five. That okay with you Ickle Peter?’ Peter nodded. ‘Good. Hundred pounds a month for five months off your cut. Okay?’
‘That’s fine. I promise it won’t happen again.’
‘Right, be on your way. You working tonight?’
‘Think I better had. Make some money to cover the losses.’
‘Good. Keep up the good work, but preferably without leaving the drugs out in the open where any idiot can steal them!’
‘Roger that.’
Peter quickly turned and left. He was very tempted to have his revenge against Sarah and her neighbour, tempted to drive round to their respective houses and put a bullet in each of their heads. But he knew that would not be a good idea. He had already drawn enough attention to himself and it would not be the smartest move considering the number of witnesses present in the street last night. He decided to take his punishment for mixing business with pleasure and to draw a line under the whole affair
and put it quickly behind him.
*
Sarah though, could not put the drugs behind her, nor did she want to. She quickly made her way through the few prepared syringes during the rest of Friday night and Saturday morning, and then was left with packages of powder that she did not know what to do with. She was hoping that she had taken enough to overcome the withdrawal symptoms but a few hours after using the last syringe, like a vicious circle, the cravings started again, along with the cramps, nausea and itching.
Studying the packets of powder, she wondered how to turn the powder into the glorious liquid that gave her so much pleasure and allowed her to hide away from all the pain and misery in her life. Sarah looked over at her computer and wondered if she could summon enough intelligence from somewhere to operate it. Deciding she would have to try, she stumbled over to the computer and sat down in front of it.
She was still dressed only in her lingerie and if one was to study her previously unblemished skin, one would see that it was now very blotchy and her arms, she had varied which arm she injected into, were showing signs of heroin use. They were very red and bruised around the injection points and, faintly, heroin track marks were beginning to show. On top of this, her skin was red and cut due to her constant scratching whenever the heroin was not flowing through her body.
While she waited for the computer to load, she scratched her arms again and again until the computer finished its loading cycle. The computer had a broadband connection so she was quickly able to load up the internet and start searching for drugs that were in a powder form with a light brown, tan colour.
‘Bastard. He told me it wasn’t heroin!’ she exclaimed. ‘Never mind. How do I prepare it?’With another simple search using a popular internet search engine she quickly found the answer.
‘Simple enough. Spoon. Piece of cotton wool. Some kind of heat source, matches? A lighter! All in the kitchen! Now, I don’t want to kill myself here. How much?’ Again, another simple search told her the answer.
So Sarah went down the stairs into the kitchen, stumbling as she went down. From somewhere a couple of brain cells collided and reminded her to check on her mum. She quietly pushed open the living room door and her mother was in her usual position. As long as she was still breathing, Sarah did not really care, so she quietly closed the door behind her and completed the few short steps into the kitchen. Quickly she collected the items she needed and returned to her room to prepare another hit of the powerful drug.
Consulting the web pages she had found, she learned how much heroin to use and then halved the recommended amount to ensure that she did not overdose. Following the same method that Peter had, she placed the heroin and water into the spoon and heated it up until the drug had dissolved. Then she drew the solution into the syringe through a piece of cotton wool. She checked the syringe for air bubbles as the article on the internet advised her to do and the solution appeared to be clear. So she fastened the belt around her arm, making a fist to pump up the veins in her arm. When the blood vessel was clearly visible, she slid the needle into her arm and depressed the plunger, pumping the mixture into her body. Quickly she drew out the syringe and waited for the rush to hit her.
She waited and waited. She felt a small rush but it was nothing in comparison to what she was used to. Cursing, and feeling frustrated, she prepared another hit, this time using slightly more heroin. In total, over the course of a few hours, she had five hits of varying strength until she created the right mixture that gave a good, solid rush. She stood up from the crouching position she had been in while she was using the drug, removed the belt and slumped onto her bed.
Sarah had not slept for a couple of days, nor had she eaten anything. As she lay, if one was to look down on her and compare her body to a week ago before she had taken the first drug, one would certainly notice the weight loss her body had gone through already. She looked gaunt, pale and had very dark circles around her eyes.
The drug rush slowly subsided and she rolled onto her side, curling up into a ball. Heroin causes insomnia, hence why she had not wanted or needed to sleep for a few days, but heroin can also cause period of oversleeping. Sarah fell asleep early that morning and did not wake until a vicious stomach cramp ripped through her body in the afternoon of the next day.
She did not know or care what day it was. All she cared about was getting rid of the cramps, itching skin and the thoughts of her mother drinking herself into an early grave, and the thoughts of Peter with that blonde. So she simply got up out of bed to simply cook herself another hit to hide away from the misery that was her life.
Chapter 28
While Sarah was sleeping through Saturday in drug induced unconsciousness, late afternoon Saturday Michelle was starting to prepare for her date with Simon. Michelle’s parents had already left for their performance so she had the house to herself.
In every room in Michelle’s musically orientated house, she had the radio on the same channel so as she moved around the house she danced and sang while she slowly got ready. While bathing she shaved all potentially hairy parts of her body and enjoyed the Jacuzzi feature of her bath.
After bathing she showered and thoroughly washed her newly cut hair. Unfortunately she could not quite afford the helicopter to London so she had had to make do with a cut from a local salon. When she felt comfortable and felt ready, she settled down in her bathrobe to watch a re-run of the Formula 1 qualifying for the Melbourne Grand Prix. Just as she had turned on the television, her mobile rang.
‘Michelle, it’s me. You ready for your night of hot sex?!’
‘Sally! I’ve told you! Nothing is going to happen tonight!’
‘Hmmm, I’m sure.’
‘Anyway, what about you?!’
‘Oh yeah, I can’t really see me losing it in the theatre!’
‘Fair point!’
‘What are you doing?’
‘Well, believe it or not, I’m watching the qualifying for the Formula 1.’
‘Huh? Why? Thought you’d be prepping yourself?’
‘I’m all prepped. All I need to do is put my clothes on and I’m done.’
‘So why are you watching the cars?’
‘Well, I was thinking that this is going to be a once in a lifetime trip, so I want to know something about it.’
‘Right, okay. We’re not going to watch the cars you know.’
‘Huh?’
‘We’re going to get some sun, get very drunk, go to the casino and blow a million on black!’
‘Sounds good, but I still want to know something about it.’
‘I’ll stick to the champagne and blowing it all on black thanks! So what’s going on?’
‘I don’t exactly know. Some cars appear to be going round and round Melbourne in a circle making a lot of noise!’
‘Sounds like fun!’
‘Hmmm, yeah, well, there’s a clock ticking down on the top of the screen. I wonder if that means the
cars all have a certain amount of time to complete the laps before they all explode into a ball of fire!’
‘Erm, to be honest Michelle, I doubt it!’
‘It would be more interesting than this if they did! What was that about blowing a million on black?! Which car does your dad sponsor?’
‘They’re a team with British drivers I think, kind of silvery cars. I think the name of his company will be on it somewhere.’
‘Oh, right! Spotted one, and there’s the name of your dad’s company! That makes it a little bit more interesting, but only a little bit. What was that about getting very drunk?!’
‘That’s more like it Michelle! I think we can leave the cars to my dad and we’ll concentrate on champagne and royal princes!’
‘Ohhh, do you think we’ll meet any royalty? That would be so cool!’
‘Almost definitely!’
‘I hope so! When is it? When do we go? How are we getting there? Where are we staying?’
‘Slow down there! When is it? I don’t know,
but I’m at my computer so I’ll google it. Hang on… Formula 1, that makes sense, Formula1.com. Erm, races perhaps, yeah, here we go, calendar. Monaco… twenty-second to the twenty fifth of May!’
‘May! That’s ages away!’
‘Not really Michelle, a few months.’
‘I’ll have to go shopping!’
‘We’ll go shopping and it will be my treat!’
‘Really?! Wow! Thanks Sally!’
‘My pleasure. You’re next question was when do we go. I imagine the Thursday or Friday. How do we get there? In my dad’s jet of course!’
‘Oh my! This is going to be amazing!’
‘And we’ll be staying on his yacht right next to the track!’
‘Wow, wow, wow! I wish it was May already!’
‘Well, so do I, but don’t wish your life away honey,’ said Sally, remembering something her mother had once said to her.
‘I know, but it is going to drag and drag and drag! Oh no, what about our exams?!’
‘I’ve checked already. The dates for our exams don’t clash with this weekend so we’ll be fine. We’ll just have to study extra hard before and after and we’ll be fine!
‘Perfecter and perfecter!’
‘Perfecter?’
‘Never mind.’
‘What time is it?’
‘Nearly five.’
‘Nearly five?! Shit! I was out on Storm for ages! I’d better go. Not even showered or anything!’ Michelle faintly heard a bell ring which was Sally summoning a member of her staff. ‘Right, I’ve really got to go. You have a good night!’
‘You too!’
‘I’ll call you in the morning, but not too early because I think you’re going to be having a late night!’
‘No way! In bed for ten, on my own!’
‘I think you’ll be in bed for nine not on your own!’
‘Nope. Not going to happen!’
‘We’ll see. I have to go. The maid is here. Speak tomorrow! Enjoy!’
Everything to Nothing Page 27