‘I’ve said I’ll ring, so I will,’ Chantelle said firmly. ‘See you later.’ She pulled the door shut now, and gave Immy a quick hug before rushing away.
Head down, she walked quickly out of the estate – and carried on walking until, half an hour later, she found herself in Stretford.
A small patch of grass separated the dual carriageway from the single row of terraced houses facing the Arndale Centre. Chantelle bit her lip as she stared at the doors – one of which Leon claimed to have seen his dad going into that time. It was a good six or seven years since she’d last seen Glenroy, and she wasn’t sure how he would react to her turning up out of the blue. Sometimes, on the very rare occasions when she thought about him, she recalled a handsome man with twinkling eyes and a dazzling smile, always dressed up to the nines and flirting and charming his way through life. But in darker moments, she recalled a monster with a vicious face and enormous fists.
Losing her nerve at the thought of coming face to face with that man now, she turned to go home and banged straight into a woman who was coming the other way carrying several bulging shopping bags.
‘Oh, sorry,’ Chantelle apologised, reaching out to steady the woman. ‘I didn’t see you.’
‘No worries.’ The woman smiled and blew a lock of sweaty hair out of her eyes. ‘I was in a world of me own. You looking for someone?’ she asked then. ‘Only you’ve been standing here staring at the houses the whole time it’s taken me to cross the road.’
‘I, er … yeah,’ Chantelle said, figuring that she might as well at least ask now that she was here. ‘Glenroy King. I don’t suppose you know him, do you?’
‘Glenroy?’ the woman repeated thoughtfully. ‘Black fella?’
Chantelle nodded, her heart starting to pound.
‘I’ve only lived here a few months, so I don’t know many of them by name yet,’ the woman told her. ‘But I’ve seen a black fella going in a house down that side.’ She pointed along the row. ‘Third from the end.’
Chantelle thanked her and made her way to the house she’d pointed out. The curtains were closed at the downstairs window, but she could hear the faint sound of a TV inside. Hands shaking, she reached out and pressed the bell.
The curtain twitched and, a few seconds later, the door opened a crack and a woman with messy blonde hair and sleepy eyes peered out at her. ‘Yeah?’
‘Sorry for disturbing you,’ Chantelle said, guessing from the dressing gown she was wearing that the woman had not long got up. ‘I’m looking for Glenroy King, and one of your neighbours told me he might live here.’
‘Who are you?’ the woman demanded sharply. Then, before Chantelle could answer, she drew her head back, and said, ‘Oh, don’t tell me … Bloody hell, you’re a bit young, aren’t you? What did he do, bribe you with a lollipop?’
‘Sorry?’ Chantelle was confused.
‘Oh, I bet you are,’ the woman sneered. ‘Not half as romantic once it’s all out in the open and they’re under your feet twenty-four-seven, is it?’
‘I think we’ve got our wires crossed,’ Chantelle said politely. ‘I haven’t seen Glenroy for ages, and I’m only looking for him because I need—’
‘Oh, he’s left you already, has he?’ The woman snorted softly and gave Chantelle a gloating look. ‘Can’t say I’m surprised, ’cos I told him it wouldn’t last. Never does. Bet you thought you were special, didn’t you? Well, sorry to disappoint you, darlin’, but you’re just the latest in a very long line. And now he’s left you, he’ll be back here before the day’s out, begging me to take him back. See, that’s what you little tarts don’t realise when you’re falling for his sweet talk. You might give him a temporary thrill, but I’ve got his kid, so he always comes back to me in the end.’
‘Look, I don’t know who you think I am, but I haven’t seen Glenroy in years,’ Chantelle blurted out when the woman stopped ranting at last. ‘If I wasn’t desperate, I wouldn’t be here; but he’s my brother’s dad, and I—’
‘Okay, you can stop right there.’ The woman held up her hand. ‘My Glen hasn’t got any kids apart from our Lennox. You must be looking for a different one.’
‘Oh,’ Chantelle murmured, feeling guilty for having upset her for nothing. ‘I’m sorry. It’s just that Leon – that’s my brother – thought he saw his dad here a few years back. I really am sorry. I won’t—’
Before she could finish the sentence, a young boy emerged from the shadows of the hallway and tugged on the woman’s dressing gown. Chantelle’s mouth fell open when she looked at him. He was the absolute image of Leon when he’d been younger: same silky curls, same deep dark eyes, and same cute dimples in his pudgy cheeks.
The woman saw the recognition in her eyes and pushed the child roughly back, ordering him to go and watch TV. Then, turning back to Chantelle, she hissed, ‘Whatever you’re after, forget it, ’cos you’re getting nothing off me. If your mam was stupid enough to get herself knocked up, that’s her problem, not mine. Glenroy might mess around, but he’s Lennox’s dad and I’m not having anyone come between them.’
‘Look, I can see this has upset you, and I wouldn’t have come if I wasn’t desperate,’ Chantelle said quietly. ‘But he’s Leon’s dad as well, and we need help. Please just tell me where he is, and I promise I won’t bother you again.’
‘I don’t know where he is, and I don’t care,’ the woman spat. ‘Now get lost!’
Chantelle jumped back when the door was slammed in her face. She didn’t understand why the woman was so mad at her; it wasn’t her fault that Glenroy had lied about having another kid – and, by the sounds of it, he could have plenty more dotted around, so it should hardly have come as such a big surprise.
She raised her hand to press the bell again, but quickly changed her mind. What was the point? The woman clearly didn’t know where Glenroy was, and she obviously had enough problems without Chantelle adding to them.
Anton was on his way to work when he saw a familiar figure up ahead. Smiling, he flicked the cigarette he’d been smoking into the gutter and ran up behind her, clapping a hand down on her shoulder.
Almost jumping out of her skin, terrified that it might be the man who had forced his way into the flat earlier that morning, Chantelle turned around. ‘You idiot!’ she spluttered when she saw who it was. ‘You almost gave me a heart attack!’
‘Sorry.’ Smile slipping when he saw the fear in her eyes, Anton tipped his head to one side. ‘You okay?’
‘Absolutely fine,’ Chantelle said through gritted teeth.
‘You don’t look it,’ said Anton, going after her when she started to walk away.
Chantelle flicked him an irritated side glance and quickened her pace. Frowning when he did likewise, she said, ‘Are you following me?’
‘Yeah, course,’ Anton chuckled, thinking that she was joking.
Chantelle tutted and walked on.
‘How’s your bro?’ Anton asked, keeping up. ‘Has he had any more trouble with those lads?’
‘He’s fine, and no,’ Chantelle muttered, wishing that he would leave her alone, because she really wasn’t in the mood for small talk.
‘That’s good,’ he said. ‘But if you have any trouble in the future and need a hand, just give us a shout, yeah?’
Chantelle stopped walking and turned to face him. Blushing when he walked right into her and she caught the musky scent of his body-spray, she stepped quickly back. ‘Look, I’m not being rude, but don’t you think this is starting to get a bit weird?’
‘How so?’ He gave her a bemused smile.
‘I don’t know!’ Chantelle flapped her hands. ‘This. It’s like I can’t go out without bumping into you.’
‘And you think that means I’m following you?’
‘I don’t know? Are you?’
‘Whoa, girl!’ Anton stepped back and peered at her. ‘You need to check that ego, for real. I’m on my way to work – ain’t nothing weird about that. Unless you think I timed it specially to bump
into you – even though I couldn’t have known you’d be out here?’ he added facetiously.
Chantelle’s blush deepened, and she wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole for saying such a stupid thing. They both lived on the estate so it was inevitable that their paths would cross from time to time, but now she’d made a complete fool of herself she would never be able to look him in the face again.
‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled, tears springing into her eyes. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. I just …’ Unable to finish the sentence as the lump that was forming in her throat threatened to choke her, she rushed away.
‘Yo, wait up,’ Anton called, running after her. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you. What’s up?’
‘It’s not you,’ Chantelle sobbed, wrenching her arm free when he caught up and grabbed her.
‘Nah, I was out of order,’ Anton said. ‘I’m sorry. I just thought you were joking.’
Chantelle wiped her nose on the back of her hand. ‘I asked for it. It was a stupid thing to say.’
‘No harm done.’ Anton dipped his head and looked up into her downcast eyes. ‘Deffo no need to cry about it, anyhow.’
‘I’m not,’ Chantelle lied, trying to step past him. ‘Please let me go,’ she implored when he didn’t move. ‘My brother’s on his own; I’ve got to get back.’
‘Hey, no worries.’ Anton held out his arms and backed off. ‘Just wanted to make sure we were cool.’
He frowned when she hurried away, and looped his hands together behind his head as he stared after her in confusion. That girl had issues, for sure; bitching one minute, crying the next. A dude wouldn’t know if he was coming or going with a girl like that – but, man, it’d be worth the ride.
Leon was out when Chantelle got home, and she guessed he’d gone round to Kermit’s. She was glad, because he would only be worried if he saw how upset she was and she didn’t want to ruin his holiday any more than she already had. He was only a kid; he deserved to have some fun.
Not that either of them would be having too much more of that if she didn’t find a solution to their money troubles.
As fresh tears began to stream down her cheeks, Chantelle went to her room, lay down on the bed and pulled the pillow over her face. She’d tried so hard to hold it together but she wasn’t sure how much longer she could carry on. All she had wanted to do was protect Leon, but she had totally let him down. Maybe it would be better to just let him go now – before things got really bad?
8
Leon had left the flat a few minutes before Chantelle arrived home. Unaware that she was back and worrying herself sick over him, he strolled happily down the canal towpath. She thought he’d been going round to Kermit’s all week, and he hadn’t set her straight because she would only go off her nut if she knew what he had really been doing. As it was, he hadn’t even seen his old friend since the night when she’d caught him with Damo and the crew. He knew it was Kermit who had grassed him up, but the shitbag hadn’t dared to show his face since, so he’d escaped a kicking – for now.
It was good to have Chantelle off his back, because she’d been seriously doing his head in these last few weeks. She’d always been bossy, but it was like she now thought she was his mum, always telling him what to do and who he could and couldn’t hang around with. But she could fuck off if she thought she was stopping him from hanging out with the gang, because he was old enough to make his own decisions.
Damo and the lads were in their usual spot, down by the locks. They all nodded and touched fists with him when he reached them, but Damo’s best mate, Acky, didn’t. Lounging on the grass bank with a bottle of White Stripe in his hand, he kissed his teeth and said, ‘Not you again. Thought I told you to do one, y’ little dickhead.’
‘Leave him alone,’ Damo said, grinning as he pulled Leon into a headlock and rubbed his scalp sharply with his knuckles. ‘He’s a good lad – ain’t ya?’
Leon’s face was already going red with the pressure of the stranglehold but he grinned and nodded, glad to have Damo on his side.
‘I think he should fuck off home and stop trying to play with the big boys,’ Acky sniped, giving Leon a dirty look. ‘Wouldn’t want sis to come looking for him again, would we? She might get herself hurt.’
Damo released Leon and gave his friend a hooded look. ‘Zip it, yeah?’
When Acky sucked his teeth again and took a swig from the bottle, Leon gave Damo a grateful look. He didn’t know what Acky’s problem was, but the lad really seemed to have it in for him. He was the one who had made Kermit sick by forcing him to smoke too much spliff that night. And then he’d made Leon walk the plank, and had nearly gone for Chantelle when she’d taken the piss out of him for acting black. He definitely didn’t want Leon hanging around with them. But Damo was the leader, not him; and if Damo said it was okay, Acky would just have to deal with it.
Damo’s mobile started to ring just then. He looked at the name on the screen and moved away from the others to answer it. ‘Wha’pp’n, man?’ Eyes narrowing as he listened to what the caller was saying, he nodded a few times and then said, ‘No probs, we’re on it. Laters.’
Acky jerked his chin up. ‘Who dat?’
‘Big T,’ Damo told him. ‘Couple of foots from the Longsight Gees need settling.’ He turned to the others now, and grinned. ‘Time to kick some arse, boys.’
Chantelle woke with a start when her phone started ringing. She rolled over and tugged it out of her jacket pocket, shocked to see on the screen display that it was three p.m. She must have cried herself to sleep, and now she’d missed half the day. That wasn’t like her at all. She must be even more stressed than she thought.
‘Hiya, babes,’ a laughing voice trilled when she answered it. ‘Have you missed me?’
‘Mum!’ She sat bolt upright. ‘Is that really you? Where are you?’
‘España!’ Mary giggled. ‘And guess what? … I’m getting married!’
‘What?’ Chantelle gasped. ‘Are you drunk?’
‘Aw, don’t go and ruin it for me,’ Mary groaned. ‘Miggy told me not to bother telling you, but – stupid me – I actually thought you’d be happy for me.’
‘Who the hell’s Miggy?’ Chantelle rubbed her eyes, sure that she must still be dreaming.
‘His full name’s Miguel Ra— … Ram— … hang on a minute.’ Mary’s voice was muffled for a few seconds as she covered the phone. ‘Ramírez!’ she announced when she came back on. ‘Miguel Ramírez – your new stepdaddy-to-be.’
When Chantelle stayed silent for a few seconds, Mary said, ‘Well, ain’t you gonna say nothing?’
Chantelle gritted her teeth. She wanted to cut loose on Mary for abandoning them, but her mum would only hang up if she came down too hard on her – and God only knew when they would hear from her again if that happened. So, taking a deep breath, she said through tight lips, ‘Congratulations, I’m really pleased for you. How long have you known him?’
‘Long enough to know he’s the one,’ Mary said dreamily. ‘Honest to God, babes, no one’s ever treated me like this man does. And he’s handsome like you wouldn’t believe. My dreamboat Spaneesh lov-er.’
Chantelle grimaced as her mum’s voice took on a supposedly Spanish accent. But a cold shiver ran down her spine when, in the background, she heard a man with the real accent order Mary to hurry up.
‘Don’t go!’ Chantelle blurted out. ‘Please … I need to talk to you.’
‘Aw, soz, babes, but it’s his mate’s phone so I can’t stay on too long. I’ll ring again soon, though.’
‘I don’t want you to ring, I want to see you,’ Chantelle sobbed, swiping at a tear she could feel rolling down her cheek.
‘Aw, me an’ all,’ said Mary. ‘Here, where’s our Leon? Put him on for a minute.’
‘He’s out,’ Chantelle told her. ‘But never mind him. I need to know when you’re coming back, ’cos I’ve got no money.’
‘I told Trace to give you some. Don’t tell me the stupid bi
tch forgot?’
‘No, she gave me twenty quid, but that Ricky came looking for you and took it.’
‘Bastard!’ Mary spat indignantly. ‘You wait till we get home and Miggy gets hold of him!’
‘That doesn’t help me right now, does it?’ said Chantelle. ‘I’m scared our Leon’s going to get taken away if you don’t come back soon.’
‘Don’t you dare let anyone take him,’ Mary said fiercely. ‘I mean it, Chan. If I lose my boy, I’ll never forgive you.’
‘It won’t be my fault,’ Chantelle protested. ‘I’m the one who’s here looking after him – or trying to.’
‘Oh, that’s right, make me feel guilty, why don’t you?’ Mary tutted. ‘God, anyone’d think I was never coming back, the way you’re going on.’
‘Well, are you?’
‘Yeah, course. In a few weeks.’
‘A few weeks?’ Chantelle repeated incredulously. ‘Haven’t you been listening? I haven’t got any money. How am I supposed to feed Leon for a few more weeks?’
‘I told Trace to tell you to find Glenroy,’ Mary said irritably. ‘It’s about time he started doing his bit.’
‘I already tried, this morning,’ Chantelle told her. ‘But his girlfriend doesn’t know where he is.’
‘No change there, then,’ Mary snorted. ‘Bastard never could keep it in his pants. What was she like, then – the girlfriend? Bet she wasn’t as pretty as me!’
‘Never mind her,’ Chantelle snapped. ‘What about me and Leon? You’re either going to have to come back, or you’ll have to send some money. And don’t say you haven’t got any, ’cos I know the dole sorted out that mistake. They sent a letter saying they were backdating it and paying it into your account.’
‘What you doing reading my letters?’ Mary demanded. ‘You’ve got no right.’
‘Are you serious?’ Chantelle was shouting now. ‘Don’t you think I’ve got a right to know what’s going on, seeing as I’m the one who’s trying to keep a roof over your son’s head? I need money, and I need it now!’
Respect (Mandasue Heller) Page 8