Edinburgh? That’s miles away. I thought me dad would live round here or down Durham way. What did he have to go and live in Scotland for? I needed him here.
Got the bus to Eldon Square, then another one to Gateshead, staring at the paper all the way home, thinking, thinking, thinking.
Walked in the back door.
‘Where’ve you been?’
Me mam was doing something at the sink. The way mams do.
‘Told you, Amy’s.’
‘You’ve been a long time.’
‘So?’
Threw me coat on the floor.
‘Hook.’
Put me coat on the hook.
Went in the front room. Callum was sitting in his usual chair watching cars go round and round. I’m sick of saying his name. From now on in me head I’m going to call him FB for Fat Bastard. I looked over at FB and smiled. For the first time since we came here I felt I had power over him. He might be bigger than me, might have more money than me, might have faster fingers than me, but from now on I knew I could beat him, because I had something in me pocket that could put a stop to him forever. I had the address of the bloke who was going to kill him.
But before I could get rid of FB, I had one small problem to solve, how to get to Edinburgh. I took the laptop into FB’s office, opened it up, and tapped in the search box with me two fingers.
Where is Edinbru?
Do you mean: Edinburgh?
Yes, Mr Picky. Clicked. Loads of sites popped up. Edinburgh is the capital of Scotland. Knew that. Then something I didn’t know. Edinburgh is a hundred and four miles from Newcastle. How the heck was I going to get all the way up there? Suppose I could ask me mam if we could go on a day trip, but if Aunty Tina knew me dad lived in Edinburgh, me mam would too.
‘What do you want to go to Edinburgh for, Danny?’ she’d ask with squinty eyes.
‘To see the men in skirts.’
She’d know I was lying. Then she’d make me tell her why we were really going, then she’d lock me in me room, and I’d never get to see me dad and ask him for help, and FB would be off the hook, and me power would be gone, and me mam would keep getting battered. Until she was dead.
I clicked off the Edinburgh sites and deleted it in ‘History’. Didn’t want to leave a trail. That’s how you get caught. I went back in the front room and sat on the sofa. The ideas in me head were going round and round, meeee-ow, meeee-ow, meeeee-ow, just like those stupid cars on the telly, getting nowhere.
I thought of writing me dad a letter, like Aunty Tina thought I was going to do.
How daft would that be? He’d think I was some sort of nutter. I needed to go and see him, tell him the whole story.
When the Formula One finished FB went to the pub, and Mam made me tea. I sat at the kitchen table staring at a fridge magnet of a Highland cow that Amy gave me.
‘What’s up?’ she asked.
Mams are like detectives. They can spot things normal people can’t.
I said nothing, which, as far as me mam was concerned, was like something.
‘He’s not a bad person, Danny,’ she said. I tried not to laugh at that, but a little pig snort escaped. ‘We’ve just had a couple of bust-ups. Anyway, everyone sorts out their problems differently.’
She was right there. Me mam and FB could sort it out their way, I was going to sort it out mine. Before I could solve me problem, something happened, something so horrible I can hardly tell you, but I will.
A few days later it was me mam’s birthday. She was thirty. I got her a box of chocolates. She seemed happy enough with it, even though it would screw up her diet. Me mam never stops thinking about her weight. FB sees to that.
FB bought her a big card with roses and sparkly bits on the front. I read the inside and nearly puked.
It didn’t stop there. He also bought her a big saggy handbag, some flowers, some earrings, and a coat. A coat? What did she need another one of them for? She’s got three. Anyway, that’s what he gave her, and Mam seemed dead happy with it all. She kissed him, with her mouth open, like me and Amy do when no one’s watching.
That night they went out for a meal somewhere posh. Must have been posh, ’cos FB put a tie on and me mam wore the shoes that make her feet hurt. I wanted to go to Amy’s, but me mam said I couldn’t ’cos it was a school night, so I stayed in and played games on the laptop.
Got some of me worst-ever scores. Couldn’t concentrate for thinking about me mam.
Two women killed every week.
Wanted to know why people like me mam let people like Callum get away with murder.
Typed: Why don’t women run away from domestic violence?
Yeah, explain that one Mr Google. Came up with a ton of reasons. One, they think he might hurt them even more. Two, they may be financially dependent. Three, they’ve got no self-esteem left. Four, they may feel ashamed of what’s happened and think it’s their fault. Five, they hope that the person will change. Six, they look back to the start of the relationship and hope that the good times will come back. Didn’t know which ones were me mam. Had to be some of them. Maybe all of them.
Clicked off the site and deleted it in ‘History’. Lay back on me bed, staring at the ceiling. They’d be in a restaurant now, eating, drinking, laughing, like nothing was wrong. But I knew different. Everything was wrong. Me mam had to get away from him. She just had to.
Took me clothes off, and crawled into bed.
‘Happy birthday, Mam.’
Can’t remember when they got back, forgot to look at the clock, but instead of going to bed me mam came in me room and woke me up. Shake, shake, shake. Freaked out when I saw her standing over me. Thought he must have hit her again. But Mam wasn’t bashed, she was happy, and smelled like FB does when he’s been to the pub.
‘What is it, Mam?’
She had a grin FB would have been proud of.
‘I’ve got some news for you Danny. Me and Callum are going to get married.’
Sixteen
•
How could she do it? How could she marry a bloke like FB? Me mam was officially mad.
I tried to close me eyes, but every time I did I saw her face again, all grinny, red teeth, and that mouth saying those words – we’re going to get married. I got on me knees and punched the pillow as hard as I could again and again and again. Me mam was going to marry the bloke that batters her. The bloke that’s going to kill her. Why doesn’t she just throw herself off the Tyne Bridge?
I lay in bed listening to them, not rowing or fighting, just laughing like little bairns. I heard a bottle pop and a can fsshhed. They were still drinking, even though they’d already been drinking, even though they both had work in the morning. Drink does that to you. Makes you go daft.
He’d tricked her, that’s what he’d done, with the card and the flowers and the earrings and the coat and the droopy bag. She thought he loved her, because he gave her tons of stuff. But she’d already forgotten about the other stuff he’d given her, the bruises, the black eye, the punch in the mouth, the headlock, the ear-bashings. It was like coats and bags counted for more.
I was that mad I screamed, like a total nutter. But they didn’t hear me. They’d put the music on. They were having a party, just the two of them. I’d almost given up on getting to Edinburgh, but not any more. I couldn’t let her marry him. That would mean he’d be around forever. She’d never get away. I didn’t want him as me dad. I wanted me own dad, me real dad.
Next day I went to school and got shouted at.
‘Danny,’ shouted Mr Hetherington. ‘I want to see your head on your shoulders, not on your desk.’
Laughs from every direction.
‘See me after class.’
‘Yes, Mr Hetherington.’
After the lesson everyone trooped out. Geoff Loosy drew a line across his throat, Mark Waters hummed the funeral march, and Lanky Dave said, ‘You’re dead, pal.’ But Amy gave me arm a squeeze when she walked past and mouthed, ‘Love you.’ H
er two little words made me insides squidge up.
Mr Hetherington sat behind his desk, arms folded, pocket full of pens.
‘Is everything okay, Danny?’
‘Yeah, everything’s fine, sir.’
Didn’t need to tell him. None of his business.
‘Are you getting enough sleep?’
‘Try to.’
‘Then try a bit harder, will you?’ he said, smiling.
Nodded.
‘Now off you go.’
Ran to the door.
‘And, Danny?’
Stopped.
‘If there’s anything wrong, you’d tell me?’
‘Yes, Mr Hetherington.’
Thought that was the worst thing that would happen that day, but it wasn’t even close. Something else won the gold medal for worst thing.
At break time Lanky Dave came up to me.
‘You still seeing my lass.’
‘Amy is not your lass,’ I said, trying to keep me voice big.
Lanky Dave then put his face about a millimetre from mine. ‘She’s gagging for me. Like they all are.’
Loads of girls used to hang around Lanky Dave. Reckoned the only reason he wanted Amy was because she wanted nothing to do with him.
‘She’ll come running to me soon enough,’ he said, and he walked off, smirking.
I was mad with Lanky Dave for what he’d said. The mad came out of me after break. I was going up the stairs when he went past and dug an elbow in me ribs. I don’t normally go mental, not even during a match when someone trips me when I’m clean through, but I went mental now. I jumped up, grabbed him round the neck and pulled him backwards.
Luckily, we weren’t at the top of the stairs. Lanky Dave lost his balance and fell backwards, like a tree that had been chopped. I thought the kids further down might stop him. But they didn’t. They just leaped out of the way, and he went right to the bottom.
Wazzocks.
Lanky Dave smacked his head on the ground and lay still. A pool of blood started to creep out of his thick, curly hair. A crowd stood round looking at it.
‘What did you do that for, man?’ said somebody.
‘Divvent knaa,’ I said back.
Teachers were there dead quick, like superheroes. Two of them carried Lanky Dave off. Mr Tobin, the PE teacher, stood at the bottom, his hairy arms crossed tight, his face molten angry.
‘What happened?’ he shouted.
‘Croft pushed Barns down the stairs, sir,’ said a voice from the crowd.
Could have tried to lie, but me face was covered in guilt.
‘Come with me, Croft.’
Got taken to see Mrs Brighton, the head teacher. They kept me waiting outside her office for ages while they got the evidence. Then I got called in. Mrs Brighton’s office looked more like a library than an office. Everywhere you looked were books. Mrs Brighton was a little woman with a big head. She sat behind her desk, staring at me over the top of her glasses.
‘Sit down, Danny,’ she said.
Parked meself on a chair in front of her desk.
‘I want to know exactly what happened.’
‘Dave Barns elbowed me, Mrs Brighton.’
‘So you decided to throw him down the stairs?’
‘I didn’t think he’d fall. Not that far.’
She looked down at her notes. ‘In the two and a bit years you’ve been with us you’ve had a good disciplinary record, Danny.’ Not like some kids. Jimmy Archer in Year Ten set fire to the science lab. Got expelled. ‘Is everything okay at home?’
She must have talked to Mr Hetherington.
‘Yes, Mrs Brighton.’
She put her elbows on her desk and laced her fingers like she was saying her prayers.
‘I don’t want to see a repeat performance of this, do you hear me?’
‘Yes, Mrs Brighton.’ Or should that be, ‘No, Mrs Brighton’?
‘I’ve had to send David home. I abhor violence. I really don’t want this sort of thing going on in my school, do you understand?’
‘Sorry, Mrs Brighton.’
‘I want you to write a note to David, apologising for what you did.’
‘Yes, Mrs Brighton.’
I was starting to sound like a parrot.
‘This will go on your record.’ She looked at the door. ‘You can go now, Danny.’
‘Thanks, Mrs Brighton.’
I ran back to class.
Some of the lads thought it was great and patted me on the back like I’d won something, while the lasses looked at me with that disappointed face they’re so good at. I told Amy the full story when I got the chance. She said I was amazing and gave me a mad snog behind church after school.
I thought that was the end of it, but it was just the start.
‘Danny,’ screamed me mam from the front room when I got home. ‘I want a word.’
She was on the sofa with the laptop on her knees.
‘What in God’s name’s been going on?’
The school must have sent her an email.
‘Got into a bit of trouble, Mam.’
‘Mrs Brighton said you pushed a boy down the stairs. He needed stitches.’
I kicked the skirting board with me heel.
‘Don’t do that, you’ll mark it.’
Kicked it again.
‘He said something bad about Amy. Then he elbowed me on the stairs.’
‘Revenge never solved anything, Danny.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, really.’
‘Can you not remember what Callum said in Spain?’
Me mam bent forwards, a pained look on her face, as though the memory had torn through her, like a knife.
‘You don’t let people get away with stuff. Ever.’
Seventeen
• • •
Just when I thought I was never going to solve the Edinburgh problem, Amy came to the rescue.
‘Are you going on the school trip, Danny?’ she said, as we walked down the street after school.
‘What school trip?’
‘The one on the school email you clearly never read. We’re going to be away for six whole days.’ She grinned at me. ‘And that means six whole nights.’
The thought of going away with Amy brought me out in goose bumps. Make that goose mountains. We’d never been away anywhere proper. Six days away with her would have been belter. But much as I wanted to go, I still had a problem that needed solving, and Amy had just solved it.
‘Mam?’
‘What?’ she said, as she lay on the sofa with a cup of smelly tea on her belly, and a pile of chocolate biscuits next to her. Her diet had clearly gone to pot.
‘There’s a school trip coming up.’
‘I know. I can read.’
‘Can I go on it?’
‘No.’
‘Other kids are going.’
‘Other kids’ mams might have more money than me.’
‘It’ll be a laugh.’
‘I’m not paying good money just so you can have a laugh. You can watch the Comedy Channel instead.’
I’d chosen a bad time. Me mam was still hacked off with me for throwing Lanky Dave down the stairs, and for always having a go at her about FB.
‘Please, Mam?’
She put a whole biscuit in her mouth. End of argument.
But if she wouldn’t do it, maybe there was someone else who would.
Later, when me mam was in the bath.
‘Callum?’
He looked surprised and put his can down. Don’t normally talk to him.
‘What is it, Danny?’
‘There’s a school trip coming up.’
‘That’s good.’
‘But me mam says I cannit go on it.’
‘Why not?’
‘Too much money.’
‘How much is too much?’
‘Hundred and eighty quid.’
A smile split his fat face.
‘I think we can stretch to that, General.
I’ll speak to your mum.’
Wazzocks.
After me mam got out of the bath FB spoke to her and next minute she stomped into me room with that face on that stops her looking pretty.
‘Danny, what are you playing at?’
‘What?’ Like ‘What, me, ref?’ when you hack a player down and hope he didn’t see.
‘You know exactly what,’ she said, her nose screwing up. ‘Asking Callum to go on this trip.’
‘He’s got plenty of money.’
‘Not the point.’
‘He’s going to be me step-dad, isn’t he?’
Mam stared at me like she was trying to think of a better answer, but couldn’t.
I’d got her.
‘Can I go then?’
It took a while, but Mam finally said the one thing I wanted to hear.
‘Okay, Danny, you can go.’
Eighteen
• •
Me plan had worked, but I was still worried sick.
I was going to be leaving me mam alone in the house with FB for a whole week. He hadn’t hit her lately, in fact, not since before they’d decided to get married, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t. With me not there who knew what he might do.
I did a couple of things to stop him. I hid his cans in the garage behind the lawnmower, and I emptied some of his vodka down the sink and filled the bottle up with water. Not sure that would do the trick. But it might.
‘Excited about your trip, Danny?’ said me mam, as she packed clean pants in me bag.
‘Aye.’
Lying again. I was that nervous I’d barely swallowed half a dozen cornflakes. I’d also lied to Callum. I’d told him I needed cash for the school trip. Me jacket pocket was now bulging with money.
‘Better go get the bus,’ I said, trying to sound relaxed.
‘No you won’t, General,’ said Callum. ‘I’ll run you down.’
‘And I’m coming too.’
‘But, Mam…’
‘Don’t you “But, Mam” me. We want to see you off, isn’t that right, Callum?’
I needed another plan, quick. Went upstairs and sat on me bed to think, but me thinking didn’t turn into anything useable. Me dad lived in Scotland. I was going to be heading in completely the wrong direction.
Me Mam. Me Dad. Me Page 6