“That sucks,” said Davie, not really understanding the ins-and-outs of motor insurance, but assuming it was a big rip-off like everything else. “You know who did it?”
Andrew nodded but said nothing.
Davie shifted slightly in his seat as the car began moving out of the hospital car park. “You going to do anything about it? To the person that did it, I mean?”
“Don’t know,” said Andrew. “Don’t know if there’s anything I can do.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that I’m a good man. I look after my family and go to work so that I can give them a good life, but what can I do if some degenerate decides to make my life hell? The police won’t help me and I don’t know how to fight worth a damn. Seems to me that it’s all too easy to be a thug nowadays. Nobody does anything to help.”
The car pulled onto a main road and picked up speed. The car’s powerful engine purred along proudly. There was no other traffic that Davie could see. The dashboard’s digital clock said that it was a little after nine, which explained the empty roads.
“Maybe he’ll leave you alone once he’s had his fun?” Davie proposed.
“Sounds like you know something about it? You don’t go around terrorising people do you?”
Davie shook his head without even thinking about it. You always pled innocent, no matter what. “No, I don’t want to hurt anyone,” he said, “but I’ve known people who do?”
The car sped up as it entered a slip road to a carriageway. “Really? Like who?”
The engine got louder as the vehicle picked up speed.
Davie shrugged, wondering to himself why exactly he had even instigated this conversation in the first place. “Just kids I’ve hung around with,” he said. “At school and that, you know?”
Andrew nodded as if he understood. “You enjoy school?”
“Hate it,” said Davie. “But I try my best anyway. I promised my mum I would get a job and not end up like my brother.
Oh shit, why did I say that?
“You have a brother?”
Davie swallowed what felt like a huge lump of coal in his throat. “Yeah. He…moved away, years ago now, but he was always up to no good.”
“I know what you mean,” said Andrew. “I had a pretty rotten brother, too. Haven’t even seen him in years, but he was always up to no good. Does that sound like your brother? Does he hurt people?”
Davie thought about how loud Charlie had screamed when Frankie held her arm in all of that chip fat. It was the hottest thing Davie had ever seen, bubbling and spitting as though it was alive. The young girl cried out so loudly when her hand had touched it that something must have given way inside her throat. The tone of her voice changed pitch mid-scream. Frankie had broken his own rule about never hurting a woman and the whole incident had sent Davie’s world spiralling. The violence had made him feel woozy inside, so he’d fled that chip shop with the screams still ringing out behind him.
Then something had hit him like a tonne of bricks. Next thing he knew, he was waking up in a hospital with a nurse bandaging his head and asking him what had happened.
Even now, Davie had a hard time accepting what his brother had done. The old Frankie he’d grown up with would never have hurt a defenceless girl like that. The old Frankie he grew up with would not have done a lot of the things he’d been doing lately.
“...kay?”
Davie looked up from his thoughts. “Huh?”
“I said are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Davie nodded. “Just feel a bit sick.”
Andrew turned to him and smiled. “We’re almost there now. Hold on.”
Davie decided not to participate in any further conversation. The less Andrew knew about him – and his blood relatives – the better. In fact, too much had been said already.
The speeding car entered a slip road and started slowing down. It entered into a residential area that Davie did not recognise.
“I think you’ve gone the wrong way.”
Andrew shook his head, but kept his eyes forward. “No, I haven’t”
“Yeah, you have,” Davie argued. “You should have kept on the highway for a little while longer, I think.”
“We’re making a little detour first.”
Davie felt sick. “What?”
Andrew smiled at Davie for a moment then looked back at the road. “I have someone I want you to meet. Then I will take you home, alright?”
“Okay,” Davie hesitated. “Who?”
Andrew took a deep breath as if he was considering something. “I want you to meet my family, Davie. They were worried when I told them I hit you. I just want them to see that you’re okay. That cool, buddy?”
Davie nodded. “Yeah, okay, but I really need to get home soon.”
“No problem. Be just five minutes. My wife will never get off my back until she knows you’re going to be fine.”
Davie peered out of the car’s window as it parked up on the curb outside of a row of houses. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being a rat caught in a trap. There was something off about the situation and Andrew’s demeanour had changed suddenly in the car. But there was nowhere to run. He had no idea where he was.
Andrew applied the parking brake and switched off the ignition. “Okay, get out.”
Davie nodded in silence. He pushed open his door and stepped out onto the path. The air felt icy after leaving the stifling compartment of the car. It was an invigorating sensation and helped wake up his senses, easing the low-level headache that had been with him since the hospital.
“Come on, inside,” said Andrew, walking up a path to one of the houses. There was a light on in the living room, mingling with the pulsing flash of a television.
Davie followed obediently, wishing he was somewhere else – anywhere else – than the property of a man who most likely meant him harm.
Andrew opened the front door with a key and stepped inside. Davie stepped inside, too, stopping inside the porch.
Andrew locked the door behind them and motioned with his arm. “Living room’s on the left. Go on through.”
Davie entered the hallway and turned to the door on the left. It felt as though turning the handle would be the beginning of something he didn’t want to get involved in. He wanted to refuse to go in, to turn around and demand to be let out, but it was too late for that. He was already inside the house and Andrew was stood right behind him.
Davie turned the handle and pushed open the door. Inside the living room was a mixture of smells which didn’t go together. It smelt like vinegar and…soap? A moment later Davie saw the source of each odour. Two women – one young and one older – crawled on their hands and knees, scrubbing at the carpet with soaking cloths. The whole room was littered with mashed up potatoes and bits of what looked like fish.
“My family,” said Andrew from behind Davie.
The two women looked up and both seemed to receive a fright at Davie’s presence. They got to their feet quickly.
Andrew stepped into the centre of the room and stood to face him. “This is just one of the things Frankie has done to us for no reason, Davie. My wife and daughter have been scrubbing at these carpets all day and the smell still hasn’t gone completely. You know all about the damage to my car as well.”
Davie shook his head and wondered what to say. What words would make this situation end?
The older woman’s eyes had gone wide and she looked at him, bewildered. “You know Frankie?”
Davie said nothing. He didn’t want to admit to anything that could cause him harm.
“This is Frankie’s brother,” said Andrew, “and he’s a good lad.”
Davie raised an eyebrow at him. “What?”
Andrew shrugged. “Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t think you enjoy hurting people like your brother does. You seem like a good kid.”
Davie still chose to say nothing. His thoughts were a muddle, perhaps from the concussion – perhaps not.
“
Sit down,” said Andrew’s wife. “I’ll get us all some tea.”
Davie hesitated. He still wanted out of there, but felt his uneasiness going away as he considered taking a seat and staying a moment. A cup of tea sounded good – he couldn’t remember the last time someone made one for him.
The younger girl stepped towards Davie and held out her hand. She was about his age and beautiful – like a younger version of her mother but with a lightness to her features that was almost angelic. Davie could tell just by looking at her that she was a kind person – sometimes you could just tell that about a person. She continued to offer out her hand so Davie finally took it, albeit reluctantly, and the two of the shook hands.
“My name’s Rebecca,” she said, leading him towards the sofa. “Take a seat and we’ll talk things through. You look like you’ve been in the wars.”
Davie sat down and nodded. “I got run over.”
Rebecca sat beside him and looked shocked. “No way!”
“Yes,” said Andrew, seating himself on a nearby armchair. “It was me that hit him.”
The girl now seemed even more shocked.
“Was an accident, Bex,” Andrew added. “Davie’s going to be just fine, though, so don’t worry.”
“Thank god. This week’s been horrible enough without anything else happening.”
“I’m sorry,” said Davie without even realising the word was going to escape his lips.
“It’s okay,” Rebecca told him. “We just want your brother to leave us alone.”
“Yes,” said Andrew. “It all needs to stop, right now. We’re innocent people. My wife, my daughter…”
Andrew’s wife re-entered then with a tray full of steaming mugs. The one she handed to Davie had a Bart Simpson design. “I added sugar,” she told him. “Is that okay?”
Davie nodded and thanked her, but then he said, “I need to go home.”
“Okay,” Andrew nodded. “Just drink your tea and we’ll get going. I just wanted you to meet my girls first.”
“Why?”
“So that you can tell your brother that we’re real people he’s hurting.”
“He knows that.”
“Does he? Because maybe things don’t seem as real if you don’t know the person you’re having ‘fun’ with.”
Davie shrugged. “I know what you’re doing, but I don’t think it will work. I’m sorry.”
“Can you not do anything at all, Davie?” asked Andrew’s wife.
Davie shook his head. “Frankie doesn’t listen to anyone, least of all me. I think…I think he enjoys hurting people. He never used to be like that, but since he got back…”
Andrew nodded. “Since he’s been back, innocent people have been hurt. Like Charlie?”
Davie looked down at the brown liquid in his mug and watched it steam. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just want to go home. If you take me now, I won’t tell Frankie about what happened.”
Andrew raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you threatening me?”
Davie shrugged. “Guess I am. Frankie has got it in for you. If he hears that you ran me over, I don’t know what he’d do.”
“So why would you want to tell him if it will just cause more trouble?”
Davie stood up, shocked at his own impulses, and flung his mug of tea aside, adding to the stains on the carpet. Something about the kindness and understanding in these people’s eyes as they looked at him, made him angry, and even though he knew it was irrational, he couldn’t help but lose his temper. “Because you won’t let me the-fuck go!” he shouted. “I’ve asked you nicely. Now let me go, right now, you get me?” Davie felt woozy, but continued anyway. “I’ll walk home from here and not say a thing, but if you keep me here any longer then you’ll pay. I don’t want anyone to get hurt, but you’re pushing it by bringing me here in the first place.”
Andrew’s eyes saddened as he looked at Davie. He stood up and nodded. “Okay, son. It’s a shame because I thought better of you. Guess I had it wrong.”
Davie couldn’t understand why, but tears began to beat at the back of his eyelids. His head was spinning and his emotions were all messed up.
Must have something to do with this concussion. It’s making me all crazy.
Andrew had been correct when he said knowing a victim made things more real. It genuinely upset Davie to see the effects his brother’s behaviour had had on these people, but it was none of his business. Frankie was family. Frankie was his brother. This man in front of him was just a stranger. A stranger who was trying to drag him into the middle of things.
Davie yanked open the door to the hallway and stepped outside, trying to control his breathing as it threatened to get out of control. He wasted no time in entering the porch and waited patiently for Andrew to come and unlock the front door when he realised it was locked. It was not Andrew, however, that came to join him. It was Rebecca.
“Hi,” she said to him.
Davie gave a half-smile. “I’m sorry about all this shit my brother’s brought down on you, but it’s nothing to do with me.”
She smiled at him and nodded, then reached out a hand and touched his shoulder. “It’s okay. I know you can’t do anything about it. It was shitty of my dad to corner you like that, but he’s just trying to protect us, you know?”
Davie didn’t want to get into it any deeper, he just wanted to leave. He found himself giving an answer anyway, though. “I understand why he did it and I’m not going to tell anyone. Just let me out, okay?”
Rebecca obliged. She produced a key from her pocket and shimmied past Davie. Her body felt warm against his as she brushed by. Davie felt dizzy again. She unlocked the door for him and then stood aside.
“Thanks,” Davie said, taking one last look at her, sad that they would likely never speak again. Why would they?
Just as Davie stepped out onto the pathway, Rebecca put a hand out and stopped him. “It’s okay, you know?” she said.
“What’s okay?”
“Being afraid of Frankie. I am too. I suppose a lot of people are.”
“I’m not afraid of anybody. Especially not my own brother.”
Rebecca smiled at him. Davie thought the expression contained all the caring in the world, but also a great deal of pity. She asked him one last question before he finally went. “If you’re not afraid, then, why won’t you help us?”
Davie was just thinking of an answer when he heard someone shouting nearby. It was a voice he knew well. It was Frankie’s.
His brother came stomping up the pavement, waving his arms like a madman. “Davie?” he said. “What the fuck are you doing here? Why the hell are you coming out of guy’s house? What happened to your head? I’m going to kill him! He’s a dead man!”
Chapter Ten
Andrew heard Bex scream and immediately panicked. His first thought was that he’d completely misjudged Davie and that the boy had done something to hurt her. He pushed past Pen and rushed into the hallway, heading directly for the porch. Bex was still crying when he got there but she didn’t seem to be hurt. In fact she was alone.
“Bex, what the hell is going on?”
She spun around. “It’s Frankie! He’s outside.”
Andrew stepped up to the front door and looked out into the night. Davie was halfway down the path. Frankie was with him and the two were arguing – both voices were heated and angry, but the sound of Davie’s voice seemed more pleading than aggressive.
“What the fuck happened to you, bro?” Frankie demanded loudly, pointing to the bandage on Davie’s head. “Did that fuckin’ mug give you a kicking?”
“No,” Davie said. “I got hit by a car. The guy who lives here was just helping me. He took me to the hospital and drove me back.”
Frankie looked towards the house and spotted Andrew standing there. “Oh, did he? Is that what you do, old man? Give lifts to young boys? Fuckin’ pedo.”
Andrew dragged Bex into the hallway and told her to go and join her mother in
the living room. Then he looked back at Frankie. “He was injured,” he said. “Would you have preferred I just left him there?”
Frankie didn’t say anything and Andrew hoped that he was getting through to him. When he eventually did say something, it was in a calmer tone than his usually aggressive slur. “No, course not, but how the hell did you happen to be there, anyway?”
“Right time, right place,” said Davie quickly.
But Andrew owned up. Lying would make things worse. “Because it was me that hit him, Frankie. It was an accident. That’s why I made sure he got to the hospital.”
Frankie’s face dropped. “You mowed down my little brother? You’re a dead man.” Frankie marched up the path, shoving aside his brother’s attempts to stop him. “A motherfuckin’ dead man.”
Andrew stood rooted in the doorway, unsure how to proceed. When Frankie pulled out a flick knife and released the blade, the decision was obvious. Andrew slammed shut the front door and locked it as quickly as he could. Then he called the police.
***
Frankie stood outside Andrew’s house for almost ten minutes, screaming threats and vowing that Andrew would pay for what he’d done. Bex and Pen were both in tears by the time he left. Five minutes later the police arrived and were now sitting in the living room as they had done only hours before. It was the same two officers, Dalton and Wardsley.
“He actually threatened your life,” asked Wardsley.
Andrew nodded. “Several times. My entire family heard him. Then he pulled a knife on me.”
“Okay.” Wardsley nodded. “We have good reason to go and get Frankie now. I’m sure your neighbours would have witnessed it, too. We’ll go and ask them some questions.”
“Questions?” said Andrew, leaning forward in his armchair. “I want you to do more than that! Frankie needs locking up right now.”
Wardsley nodded. “I understand you want something done. Believe me, we’ll be arresting him and holding him overnight. We’ll do what we can to get him in front of a judge, but…”
ASBO: A Novel of Extreme Terror Page 8