The Front

by Mandasue Heller

  Seconds later Mal burst through the door, and she could tell at a glance that he was on edge. She smiled, hoping to defuse the tension before it settled in. But he didn’t smile back, just swivelled his eyes around the room in search of something to criticize.

  ‘What are you doing back so soon?’ she asked pleasantly. ‘I didn’t expect you till tonight.’

  ‘I bet you didn’t,’ he muttered, taking his jacket off and flinging it onto the back of the couch. ‘Catch you out, did I? Where’s he gone, then? The bloke you were shagging when I came in?’

  Suzie didn’t answer. There was no point. She knew only too well how volatile he could be – especially when he was coming down, as he obviously was at the moment. Anything could set him off. He was like a lightly set trap waiting for a breath of air to spring him.

  ‘And while we’re at it,’ he went on, his voice tense and accusing. ‘Where did you slope off to this morning? You know I can’t stand it when you take off without telling me.’

  ‘I only went to the shops,’ she told him quietly. ‘And I did tell you.’

  He gave her a filthy look. ‘Oh, yeah? And when was that, then? When I was asleep, you dense bitch!’

  ‘No,’ she mumbled, looking down. ‘You woke up for a bit and had a cig. I told you then. I had to get the chops for dinner.’

  Vaguely remembering this, Mal pushed her out of the way and began to search for his paraphernalia. Sticking his hand down the side of the couch to retrieve the mirror he’d left there, he barked over his shoulder, ‘I hope you got enough for Lee and all, ’cos he’s staying.’

  Nodding hello to Lee, Suzie said, ‘I got three. He can have your extra one, if you don’t mind?’

  ‘Whatever!’

  Lee’s stomach rumbled at the mention of food. Hot food – cooked by a woman! ‘That’d be great, that,’ he grinned, rubbing his hands together. ‘Better than chippy shite any day. How you doing, then, Sooze?’

  ‘She’s fine,’ Mal answered for her, impatiently dragging the cushions off the couch and scattering them around the floor. ‘Where’ve you put my fucking mirror?’

  Getting it from the shelf, she handed it to him. Snatching it without thanks, he tossed it to Lee and headed for the door. ‘Do the honours, mate. I’m bursting for a piss.’

  When he’d gone, Suzie replaced the cushions, then perched on the arm of the couch and lit a cigarette, watching as Lee kneeled beside the coffee table and tipped a little wrap of coke onto the mirror with a look of intense concentration. She didn’t understand their fascination with it at all, and wished they wouldn’t do it. It just made Mal aggressive and sarcastic – and that frightened her.

  Coming back into the room, still zipping his fly, Mal flopped down on the couch and eyed the mirror greedily. ‘Shove the kettle on, then,’ he said, nudging Suzie. ‘I’m gagging here. You think you’re a bleedin’ ornament or something?’

  Lee glanced up as she quickly disappeared into the kitchen. ‘Obedient, ain’t she?’ he sniggered. ‘Pauline would’ve told me to go and fuck meself if I’d talked to her like that. She was all woman, that one!’ he added with a reflective sigh.

  Mal shook his head, remembering Lee’s last squeeze less fondly. Pauline had been a swamp goddess. Ugly as sin, with a mouth like a docker-whore. Lee was well shot of the skanky bitch, in his opinion.

  Lee’s memory of Pauline was very different. She was the only woman who’d ever been willing to put her mouth anywhere near his rank dick, and for that miracle alone he’d considered her a princess. It had hit him hard when she’d found a princess of her own to play with. Not because she’d cheated, but because she’d refused to let him watch them at it. She could be a selfish witch at times, but he’d have had her back in a flash.

  ‘You see your problem?’ Mal was saying now, cracking his knuckles as he joined Lee at the table. ‘You just don’t know how to treat birds. You should have battered Pauline the first time she opened her big gob – that would have sorted her head out.’

  Lee agreed, just to save face. In fact, he was only too aware that he’d have come off worst if he’d tried that on with Pauline. Her head-butts were legendary.

  Snatching the fiver Lee had rolled into a tube, Mal snorted the fattest line, sweeping over the traces until every last grain had vanished. Leaning back, eyes closed, unbreathing, he waited for the glorious rush.

  ‘Ba-bee!’ he moaned when it hit. ‘Oh, shee-it, that’s good!’

  Lee greedily followed suit, then rocked back on his heels, groaning along ecstatically.

  Opening their eyes moments later, they grinned at each other across the table. Buzzing again. Back in that high place far above the world. Gods!

  ‘Another, Mr Kenny?’ giggled Lee.

  ‘Why, thank you, Mr Naylor,’ said Mal, tweaking an imaginary moustache. ‘Don’t mind if I do!’

  They moved in for their second lines just as Suzie came in with the cups. Mal’s good mood evaporated when she went to place them on the table.

  ‘Don’t put ’em there, you fucking imbecile!’ he screeched up at her. ‘Can’t you see what we’re doing here? Jeezus!’

  Shocked, she jerked the cups back. A drop of tea sloshed over the edge of one and she watched in horror as it landed with a dull splash on the corner of the mirror – nowhere near the powder, but still on the mirror. Big mistake.

  ‘You stupid bitch!’ Mal’s coke-crazed eyes were ablaze as he leaped to his feet and brought the back of his hand across her cheek – so hard that she dropped the cups, sending three steaming fountains across the carpet. With a growl of fury, he seized her hair and dragged her head down to the table, smashing her mouth onto its edge, screaming, ‘Lick it up, you clumsy cunt! Lick it up NOW!’

  ‘No!’ Lee squawked as a drop of blood fell from her lip and merged with the tea. ‘The Charlie! The Charlie!’

  A red mist fell across Mal’s eyes. ‘Aw, look what you done now!’ he said as he yanked her head back, balled his fist and punched her. ‘Look what you done!’

  Oblivious to everything but the need to rescue the precious drugs, Lee dabbed at the bloodied tea with his shirt-tail. When he was satisfied that the coke was unharmed, he sat back with a relieved sigh – only then realizing what was happening. He didn’t know what to do, where to look. He contemplated pretending he hadn’t noticed, but that would have been impossible. Then, just as he thought he’d have to intervene, it stopped.

  Tossing Suzie aside, Mal wiped his hands on his jeans and turned to Lee with an apologetic shrug. ‘Sorry about that, mate. Can’t trust the stupid cow to do anything right. I don’t know how I control myself sometimes, I really don’t!’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Lee said placatingly. ‘No harm done, eh? Have another line, mate. Come on . . . come and sit down, eh?’

  As Mal bent his head over the mirror, Lee stole a quick glance at Suzie. The sight of her pretty face bleeding and swelling made him feel funny inside – guilty, almost. Poor kid. And at seventeen, she was just a kid. Too young to know how to handle a man of thirty-two, that was for sure. For a moment he felt truly sorry for her. Then Mal handed him the rolled-up fiver and he forgot all about Suzie.

  Mal didn’t. With narrowed eyes, he watched as she picked herself up and quietly made her way towards the door. As she reached for the handle, he called her back.

  ‘Before you go sloping off, you’d better get that cleaned up.’ He pointed at the tea stains. ‘And when you’ve finished that you can get on with me dinner. And don’t be putting no green shite with them chops. Got that?’

  Nodding, she moved towards the kitchen.

  ‘And oi!’ He shouted her back again. ‘You’d better get that look off your face and all. Moping about like I don’t know what. You want me to give you something to bleeding mope about, do you?’

  ‘No,’ she whispered.

  He looked at her for a moment, then nodded, waving her away. Turning to Lee when she’d gone, he grinned. ‘See what I mean, mate? It’s all in the way you hand
le ’em!’

  Suzie stayed in the kitchen until the dinner was made, and when she eventually carried the plates through she was pleased to see that Mal had settled down. He actually smiled as he took his plate from her.

  ‘Thanks, doll. It looks good.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Lee agreed greedily. ‘And it don’t smell too bad, neither. God, I love chops. Me mam used to do ’em on Sundays.’

  ‘No gravy?’ Mal asked.

  Suzie went back to the kitchen to fetch the jug of gravy she’d forgotten.

  ‘Highway to Heaven’s on,’ Lee told her when she came back. He patted the cushion beside him. ‘Come and sit down and watch it.’

  Frowning at the familiarity, Mal said sharply, ‘We’ll be getting off in a bit, Lee. Don’t go getting settled.’

  ‘Righto!’ Lee saluted with his knife, then set about attacking his food with gusto. With his mouth full, he stuck his thumb up at Suzie who had sensibly chosen to sit at the far side of the couch.

  ‘Fucking A, this is, Sooze. Didn’t know you were such a good cook. And what’s that funky taste?’

  ‘Rosemary,’ she told him.

  ‘Bit weird, innit?’ he said. ‘But I like it. And this gravy’s top. Here, what d’y’ you reckon to them two?’ He pointed his fork at the screen with a snigger. ‘Two bleedin’ bloke-angels hanging about with each other like that! Big cunt and pretty boy – bit like Ged and Sam, innit!’

  As Lee cackled beside her, Suzie smiled painfully and began to eat her own dinner. Mal watched surreptitiously as she gingerly eased a tiny amount of mashed potato through her swollen lips. For a moment, he was flooded with guilt and shame, but he quickly shook it away, reminding himself that it wasn’t all his fault. She knew all the buttons to push to set him off, didn’t she? If she’d just think before she did things, they’d be fine. Still, he’d better say something before he left, or she’d be quiet for days and he’d end up feeling like a right cunt.

  He followed her into the kitchen when she carried the empty plates out a little while later. Closing the door so Lee wouldn’t see him creeping, he came up behind her at the sink and put his arms around her.

  ‘Sorry,’ he whispered, nuzzling her neck. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you so bad, but I can’t help it when you wind me up like that. That was good gear you nearly wasted out there.’

  Suzie winced as he hugged her bruised ribs. But the tears sliding down her cheeks were not tears of pain but of relief. Relief that it was over, and that he’d forgiven her for winding him up and making a mess of things – again! Because it was her fault – he was dead right about that. He’d paid a lot of money for that coke, and she’d nearly ruined it. Well, Lee had paid for it, but that wasn’t the point.

  When Mal and Lee headed off to Lee’s flat, Suzie finished clearing up, then ran herself a bath. Lying back in the soothing bubbles, she resolved to try harder in future. Mal was a good man really. Oh sure, he was a bit quick with his fists, but that wasn’t his fault – it was the coke. It was the Devil in powder form as far as she was concerned.

  She just hoped Mal realized that before it was too late.

  2

  It was just after eight when they arrived at Lee’s flat. Just a few short hours to kick-off, and Lee could hardly wait. He was so eager to get in and give Mal his mask, it took him two attempts to get his key in the lock. Mal wrinkled his nose in disgust when he finally managed it. Recoiling from the unmistakable odour of rotting feet and rancid unwashed body, he remembered exactly why he’d stopped coming round here in the first place. It was no wonder Pauline had legged it with her Lemon Dettox. She must have realized she was fighting a losing battle. It was a wonder she’d stuck it out as long as she had.

  The smell was particularly overpowering in the living room, and the mess there was even worse than Mal remembered. Mouldy plates poked out from beneath the couch, cups sprouting alien life forms stood on every surface, overflowing, foul-smelling ashtrays littered the floor, suspicious-looking stains speckled the couch cushions. And everywhere else lay piles of filthy clothes and heaps upon heaps of newspapers.

  Mal opened his mouth to berate Lee for his sloppy housekeeping just as Lee threw something at him. Catching it, he saw that it was a balaclava – a black woollen job, with eye, nose and mouth holes, and a new one at that! Raising a surprised eyebrow, he nodded his approval.

  ‘I never thought I’d hear myself saying this, mate, but well done! This is the biz!’

  As Lee beamed with pride at the rare compliment, Mal angled the chipped mirror on the mantelpiece, then pulled the balaclava carefully over his hair and stepped back to view the effect. It was a perfect fit – and, he decided, looked fittingly evil. Now they were cooking with gas!

  Pulling his collar up around his ears, he curled his lip up through the mouth hole and turned to Lee, rasping in his best Cagney voice: ‘You dirty brother . . . you killed my rat!’

  Lee quickly pulled his own mask on and aimed a two-finger pistol at Mal’s head, rasping back, ‘Quite frankly, my dear, I don’t give a fuck!’

  ‘Wrong film, dick-wipe!’ snorted Mal.

  Just then, there was a knock at the front door. As Lee tore his mask off and dashed out to answer it with a whoop of excitement, Mal turned back to the mirror to practise his evil eye. Seconds later, Lee bounced back in with Sam and Ged in tow – both wearing black from the neck down.

  Ged looked awesome. At six foot three and weighing a healthy fourteen stones, he always dwarfed Lee and Mal, who were five-seven and five-nine respectively, each barely topping nine stones soaking wet. But tonight, in his muscle-enhancing Puffa jacket and thigh-defining jeans, he seemed even more enormous than usual, and even Sam, who was close to six feet tall himself, seemed puny by comparison. Lee was positively ecstatic.

  ‘Oh, this is gonna be so fucking great!’ he squawked, flinging himself around the room with flailing arms. ‘What a buzz, eh? Shit, man, I can taste the money already! We won’t have no problem getting the cunt to roll over when he sees us heading his way! Especially you, Ged, man!’ He grinned, throwing a mock punch at the big man’s arm. ‘You look like a fucking animal!’

  With an irritated grunt, Ged swiped a pile of clothes and newspapers onto the floor and flopped, frowning, into the room’s only armchair. When Sam had called that afternoon to tell him about the job, he’d said he didn’t want any part of it. But Sam had pleaded, and he’d sounded so depressed about his finances that eventually Ged had relented – even managing to convince himself that it might be a laugh. Now he was actually here, with Lee hopping about like a pillock and Mal swaggering around like a Mafia reject, he wished he’d gone with his instincts and stayed away. No matter how much he fought it, these two always managed to piss him off. Always had, and probably always would. And if he’d had any doubts before, he was certain now that this blag was bound to be an absolute disaster.

  As Ged silently cursed himself, Sam – looking even more troubled than usual – slumped down onto the battered couch and pulled his Rothmans and a pack of Rizla papers from his pocket. He was desperate for a calming spliff after yet another set-to with Wendy. She’d had a fit when he’d told her what he was doing tonight, and had screamed so long and loud that his ears were still ringing. If he didn’t need the money so badly, he wouldn’t have come. But he did need it – especially after totting up the damage Wendy had done to their savings today. With the monthly ‘mortgage’ for the new suite and carpet due next week, there was no way around it. He had to do this.

  After searching his pockets several times to no avail, it finally dawned on him that his draw was missing. The small wrap of coke he’d hidden in his change pocket was still there, but the draw was definitely gone. Realizing that Wendy must have lifted it when he was in the shower, he was filled with futile rage. Why didn’t she just rip his fucking heart out and be done, the selfish bitch!

  ‘What’s up with your mush?’ said Mal, his voice muffled by the wool of the mask. ‘Wendy give you a hard time, did she?’
/>
  ‘Something like that,’ Sam muttered, and, lighting a straight instead, dropped his cheek onto his fist and sank deeper into the stained couch with an air of utter dejection.

  ‘You know your problem?’ Lee piped up. ‘You’re too soft on your Wendy. You wanna toughen up, man. Give her some licks – like Mal there,’ he thumbed towards Mal. ‘He’s got Suzie well under control. I’d like to see her give him lip the way your Wendy does. He’d knock her for six, innit, Mal?’

  Mal pulled the mask off and smoothed his hair back into place. ‘Too right. No bird’s gonna take the piss out of me and get away with it. Show ’em the back of yer hand before they get the idea they can open their mouths, that’s what I say.’

  He didn’t think it necessary to mention the beating he’d inflicted on Suzie earlier – or what an absolute shit he’d felt having to look at her face during dinner. He knew he had to sort himself out if he wanted to keep her, but it was hard. He seriously wondered sometimes if he was cracking up. But making himself out to be a sap in front of his mates wouldn’t help him get it sorted.

  ‘Wendy would knife me if I tried any of that shit on her,’ Sam said, flicking a crawling something off the arm of the couch with a shudder.

  ‘That’s ’cos you’re a wuss!’ Mal jeered, happy to shift the focus from himself. ‘A pussy-whipped wuss!’

  ‘Yeah, but she’s a babe, ain’t she?’ said Lee lustfully. ‘I wouldn’t mind being whipped by her . . . Phwoar! Eh?’

  ‘You want whipping full stop, you sad git!’ Mal quipped, heading for the health-hazard kitchenette in search of alcohol. ‘You wanna sort yourself out, or you’ll end up hanging round that school again and get yourself nicked!’

  Lee’s eyes glazed over at the thought of his last little sojourn to the local high school some months before. He’d had the red Celica then, and the girls had been well-impressed.