“Fuck off ma,” Trent shouted, his voice muffled.
Tyrese opened the door anyway and closed it behind him as he went to his brother’s bed and ripped the duvet from over his head. He was at least pleased that Adrianna had made herself scarce first thing, though the room still stunk of sex.
“Oh, it’s you,” Trent groaned, looking no more pleased than if it had been their mother. “What do you want?”
“I got a text from Troy,” Tyrese replied, standing over him. Trent was wearing boxers and as Tyrese looked down at him, he saw that his brother, once so muscular from hours spent down the gym, was getting fat. He wondered if it was because of all the beer or the fact that Trent had given up on working out. Or both. He shook his head, he would have to get his brother to pull himself together, but that was a discussion for another time. There were more pressing matters to be dealt with right now. “He’s having some problems.”
“No fucking joke,” Trent sniggered, making no effort to get out of bed or even to sit up. “He’s always having some problem or other. What’s it to me?”
Tyrese gritted his teeth.
“What the fuck do you mean by that?” Tyrese hissed. “You’re happy enough spending the fucking profits, ain’t you?”
Trent opened his eyes and looked at his brother. Tyrese hoped that at least he would pay some attention now he knew his spending money might be under threat.
“Come on then,” Trent said, propping himself up on his elbows. “What’s he done now?”
“He says someone might’ve tipped off the screws about the operation,” Tyrese replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed, pushing Trent’s legs out of the way as he did. “Wants to know what he should do.”
“Can’t he figure anything out for himself?” Trent shook his head.
“Obviously not,” Tyrese sighed. “Anyway, I figure perhaps he just gets someone else to do more of the stuff. Keep himself off the radar, you know?”
Trent shrugged and Tyrese wondered why he’d bothered to wake him.
“Sounds fair enough to me,” Trent said. “Can I go back to sleep now? I’m fucking hanging and my mouth tastes like a bloody ashtray.”
Tyrese stood up, shaking his head with exasperation, and left the room, Trent already pulling the duvet back over his head. He sent a reply to Troy, hoping his youngest brother would have the sense to note the irritation in his reply and not bother him with such stuff again.
It was no wonder the Banks brothers were starting to lose respect, Tyrese thought sadly as he sat down in the lounge and lit a cigarette. He had long suspected that people talked about their dwindling presence on the estate, but the party last night had been an eye-opener. A drunk kid who thought he was something special for dealing a bit of coke for the Healy’s had mentioned that talk around the estate had it that the Banks’ rule was over. Tyrese had been pissed off but he had to admit he had his own doubts. Troy was locked up and still a useless pussy; Trent was becoming a waste of space; and they were being deserted by guys who had once been proud to be associated with the Banks brothers.
Maybe it was the end for them, he wondered. The Healy’s were starting to deal on the Goldsworth again, and whereas a few months ago he’d have been quick to send Trent and a few other guys off with baseball bats to teach the dealers who forgot it was their patch a lesson, he didn’t see the point now. He couldn’t afford to get into a turf war with the Healy’s – they were top of their game, and the Banks brothers were fast nearing the bottom of theirs.
He would have to discuss his fears with Sanjay later, he decided. He did not even consider voicing his concern to his brother, it would do no good at all, he realized.
* * *
As the train slowed in its approach to Euston station, Aurora felt the tension emanating from Clint in waves and his evident nerves began to rub off on her. She wondered if perhaps he was right and this was a huge mistake. Were they about to walk into terrible danger? Would the Banks brothers kill Clint? Kojo was distracted looking out the window as London loomed beyond the window, and she wiped a bead of sweat from Clint’s forehead, smiling as reassuringly as she could manage in a bid to ease his worry, though he could not even bring himself to return the smile.
When the train came to a stop, Aurora feared Clint would not move from his seat and they would simply remain on the train until it returned to Manchester. Kojo jumped from his seat, excited to be back home, and Aurora nudged Clint. He reluctantly slid from his seat and busied himself with their suitcases as Aurora kept a close eye on Kojo as they got off the train in the throng of people leaving.
She looked about the station and wondered why she didn’t feel happier that she was finally stepping foot back in London; her hometown, her birthplace. She only felt a prickling of unease as Clint dragged the suitcases behind him, leading them down the platform and through the station towards the underground.
Aurora fumbled in her handbag for her Oyster Card. She hadn’t used it in so long and it made her feel a little more at ease; whatever might await them on the Goldsworth, some things never changed.
They fought through the crowds to the lift and Clint remained on edge. Aurora wanted to say something reassuring, but she could think of nothing. Kojo’s evident excitement she knew wasn’t helping to ease Clint’s mind, but she could hardly tell him not to be pleased to be seeing his parents. She was excited, if a little anxious, about seeing her mother too.
The platform for the northbound Northern Line was crowded and Aurora felt sweat pool beneath her armpits. She was feeling tired and flustered, and she found herself glancing about for people she might recognise. She half imagined seeing one of the Banks brothers emerge from the opening tube carriage doors and recognise her and Clint. Her heart pounded and her palms became slick with sweat.
She wondered if the same fears were running through Clint’s mind and tried to force away these dark thoughts as they struggled forward in the surge of people onto the tube. She grabbed a handrail and shut her eyes, fearing that Clint was right and returning was a terrible mistake.
* * *
Troy read and re-read the text he had received from Tyrese and gritted his teeth with frustration. He had hoped his brother would provide the perfect solution for him but instead he’d come up with a useless plan that Troy had already written off. Tyrese wanted him to use somebody to deflect attention from himself, but Troy had dismissed that thought. Amal had gone now, there was nobody else.
He had not sent a reply to Tyrese voicing this anger, because Troy was not a big enough fool not to notice the implication to his brother’s words. They clearly warned him that Tyrese didn’t want to be disturbed by trivial stuff like this, and that he expected Troy to take the initiative and sort this matter out himself.
Though it pissed him off no end, Troy also saw it as a form of respect. His eldest brother trusted him enough to leave it in his hands and that meant something, he decided. He glanced towards the door and wished Amal was here to keep watch.
He kept one eye on the door as he pulled out a small baggie of white powder. It was risky without someone to keep watch but he tipped it out into the palm of his hand all the same. He sometimes snorted it using a pen he’d dismantled, but he didn’t have the time or the inclination today, so he dabbed his finger in the small pile of blow and rubbed it into his gums.
The cocaine was almost gone when a figure appeared at the door to the cell and he felt his heart race at once. Dante walked in, shooting him a curious look, and Troy sighed with relief. He couldn’t even bring himself to be pissed off with his cellmate for catching him out, not when his first dreadful thought had been that a PO had busted him in the act.
“Chill, it’s only me,” Dante said, eyes lingering on the powder in Troy’s hand.
“No worries,” Troy mumbled. He finished the rest, ignoring Dante’s eyes boring into him and patted his hands clean.
He wished Dante hadn’t caught him, because now he would no doubt want some, although he supposed tha
t wasn’t a bad thing if he was willing to pay like the rest. Just because they shared a cell didn’t mean Troy was about to be sharing anything else with him.
A thought occurred to Troy then, and he glanced at Dante. Dante’s eyes narrowed, and Troy knew that his idea must have registered on his face.
“You know what, Dante, you did the right thing coming to me about that shifty PO earlier,” Troy said, hoping his voice did not sound as cunning as he felt right now. He gestured towards the plastic chair and Dante sat down, still looking bewildered. “If you’re interested, I might have a little job for you. That sound cool?”
Dante considered him a moment.
“Yeah, sure,” he shrugged.
Troy’s smile widened. He had just decided on the perfect guy to take over the day to day running of the operation whilst he let the heat die down on him and Dante looked up to him, respected his reputation and wouldn’t dare fuck things up. Dante looked uncertain under Troy’s gaze, and Troy knew he was right.
* * *
Dante listened as Troy filled him in on what would be expected of him, hardly able to believe that it had taken only a few hours to win Troy’s complete trust and it was all he could do not to clap his hands together. He had never imagined it would be so easy, but clearly he had underestimated how fucking stupid the youngest of the Banks brothers was.
This was exactly what he had been hoping for when he had lied to Troy about the POs getting suspicious of him and his mates. He could hardly believe it had been so easy to fool him, and in such a short amount of time.
“What’s in it for me?” Dante asked when Troy had explained about collecting orders and shifting the gear once their payment had been received. He knew that Troy would half-expect such a question; after all, he was putting his neck out on Troy’s behalf, it was surely a question anyone would ask.
Troy considered him a moment.
“You can help yourself to some of the gear,” Troy said after a while. “Not too much mind, we got to make a profit at the end of the day.”
Dante thought longingly of a nice fat line or a tasty joint and that was surely a great bonus on top of a plan that seemed to be working better than even he had dared to hope for.
“So what do you say, Dante, mate?” Troy asked, leaning forward, expectant. Dante pretended to consider for a moment and nodded, allowing a smile. Troy grinned, “Good decision, man. You won’t regret it. You prove yourself loyal, and you don’t fuck anything up, I’ll see you do all right.”
Dante kept smiling. Troy had no idea how right his words were, though not in the way he realised yet. Damn right Troy was going to see him right. Dante had big plans for this place, but Troy had no idea that these plans didn’t involve him. He was going to establish himself and then he was going to take this pussy out for good, along with anyone else who got in his way, and then he’d be at the top.
Troy offered him his hand and Dante shook it. He saw the scheming in Troy’s eyes and knew that his cellmate thought he was using Dante as a fall guy, someone to run things until the heat was off. He’d explained as much, but Dante let this slide, because he knew that in reality it was Troy who was getting played.
“Fancy a few lines to celebrate?” Troy asked.
At least Troy had his uses, Dante thought, and nodded hungrily. He might as well enjoy himself, he decided, until he could take over and then take Troy out.
* * *
The Goldsworth loomed in front of them as they walked past the gates of their old school and down the road towards the rambling estate. Aurora had walked to and from school so many times before but she felt like a stranger to the place as they neared. She imagined people cutting their eyes at her, but she knew she was being ridiculous. Some people were bound to recognise her from school, but many more had no idea who she was and didn’t care either.
“Do we have to go to Aurora’s mum’s place first?” Kojo asked, instantly put out when Clint had told him where they were headed. “Can’t we just go and see mum and dad? It’s not like I even know her mum,” he insisted, cutting a look at Aurora and mumbling, “No offence,” in her direction.
“She’s expecting us,” Clint snapped, and Kojo glared at him but said nothing else, as aware as Aurora was that Clint’s mood had soured even more as they had left the tube station and the Goldsworth had come into view.
It wasn’t entirely true that her mum was expecting them, Aurora thought to herself. She had tried to ring her and got no response, so she had left a few voicemails and sent a text. She hoped now that her mum hadn’t moved, but she was sure she would have let them know. Then again, the state her mum had been in when they’d left so many months ago, Aurora didn’t really know what to expect.
Passing in between two blocks of flats, Aurora felt her own unease creep back. They were hardly inconspicuous, she thought. Clint was dragging two suitcases, hers and his own, and Kojo had begun complaining about carrying his own sports bag.
The estate was exactly as she had remembered it, the concrete a dull and dismal grey. The only splash of colour came from the front doors of the flats that looked down upon them from every balcony on every block, though the paint was peeling and nobody seemed bothered about redoing them.
“We’re back,” she muttered under her breath, and Clint glanced to her, sharing her feeling of apprehension.
“I don’t care what you say,” Kojo said suddenly. “I’m going to see mum and dad.”
“Kojo –” Clint snapped, voice rising, but Kojo was already storming away from them, disappearing into the shadows of a stairwell. “That little shit,” Clint swore quietly, hesitating, unsure whether to go after his brother or not.
“Let him go,” Aurora said gently, and Clint’s shoulders sagged in resignation.
Kojo emerged on one of the balconies above them, not even looking back down at them. He knocked on the front door of his parents’ flat and let himself in. The door closed behind him and Aurora looked at Clint, worried by the weary expression on his face.
“Come on,” she said, “Let’s get these bags to my mum’s and then you can go after him.”
Clint sighed and nodded. She led the way up another stairwell, though Clint knew the way well enough; he’d walked her home from school enough times. Clint sweated and swore as he dragged the two suitcases up the stairs. Aurora offered to help but he refused to let her, insisting that she should do no lifting in her condition, so Aurora watched him grow more irritated as he heaved them up the stairs.
He wiped his forehead when they reached her floor, and Aurora felt more worried about what she would find now that she was so close to her mother’s flat. She knocked sharply on the door. Clint joined her, and they waited together. There was no response, and Aurora felt a moment’s panic. What would they do if nobody was here? Her mum could have gone down to the pub, or be round at a mates’. She knocked again, glancing at Clint, trying to smile, but from his look she thought it had probably turned out more as a grimace.
She tried the handle and the door swung open. Hesitantly she stepped into her mother’s flat, the flat she had grown up in, and called out to her mum.
“Mum?”
She thought she heard a sound and she motioned for Clint to follow. He dragged the suitcases onto the landing and closed the front door behind them with a loud, firm click. She knew he was grateful to be inside, out of sight of watchful eyes.
Treading slowly down the landing, she looked into her mother’s bedroom. It was much the same as she remembered, the bed unmade and an empty glass on the bedside cabinet. The door to the kitchen was open and nobody was there. She looked to the lounge, the door ajar, and pushed it with a trembling hand.
Her mother sat on the sofa, her eyes closed, breathing gently in her sleep. Aurora stepped into the room and the floor creaked beneath her feet. Marlena Curtis jolted awake at the sound and did a double-take as she saw Aurora.
“Aurora? What are you doing here?” she asked, bewildered. Her eyes fell on Clint a few steps besid
e her and her eyes narrowed slightly. “And you,” she said, not even attempting to hide her disapproval. “What are you doing back here?”
“I sent you loads of messages, and voicemails, mum,” Aurora sighed. “We’ve come to stay for a few weeks.”
“I never got any,” her mum shrugged. “I thought you were still in Liverpool.”
“Manchester, mum,” Aurora corrected her.
“Huh?”
“We live in Manchester, not Liverpool,” Aurora said. She wondered if her mum had spent all the time in a drunken stupor. She must have, she thought, if she had not even been able to remember which city her only living daughter now lived in. “How have you been anyway?” she asked, sitting on the sofa beside her and giving her a hug. She smelt of cigarette smoke and stale alcohol, Aurora thought.
“Fine, I’m fine,” Marlena waved her off. “You’re back then.”
“Yeah,” Aurora nodded.
Now that she was here she found she did not know what to say to her mother. She was not sure what she had expected; a welcome-home banner and a party were out of the question, but she’d expected something – more. Her mother didn’t seem fussed about seeing her, and her eyes kept flickering to Clint, pursing her lips as if she did not quite know what to do.
“I’ll take the bags through,” Clint said from the doorway. Aurora felt bad that her mother should show such disregard for him, but she could hardly blame her. Marlena had found out, like everyone else on the estate, what had really happened the night Shaniqua had been stabbed. It had hit the news the night Troy had been arrested and this was the first time her mum had seen Clint since she had found out he had been there to witness her eldest daughter’s murder. She had not liked him before that, so Aurora felt relieved at least that she had not said anything too harsh.
Marlena looked as if she might protest, but she held her tongue and Clint dragged the bags out of sight. Aurora knew he would be taking them to her old bedroom, the one she had once shared with Shaniqua, and she wondered if the old photos of her and her sister still hung on the walls. She hoped they weren’t too much for Clint and thought of going to help him when her mum clasped her hand.
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