Nicholas Dane

by Melvin Burgess

  He wandered off with Simon and Jeremy round to Jeremy’s house, where, as he’d hoped, Mrs Jeremy was happy to fill him up with food and ask him to stay for tea. Amanda was there too - Jeremy’s sister, who had let him weep on her shoulder and kissed him. She was, he realised in amazement, pretty nearly the last girl he had spoken to for months. He would have loved to get her on her own and talk to her and tell her things, and maybe see if she’d let him kiss her again. She hung around a bit after dinner to watch telly and make chitchat with him, but she didn’t seem to have anything real to say - not like last time. When she left to see a friend, Nick was both disappointed and relieved. He had enough on his plate without having to think about girls.

  Mrs Jeremy didn’t ask him to stay the night though, so he had to go back to the lock-ups, where he spent a cold, scary night on his own under a damp blanket.

  And that’s how it went for the next few days. He talked Simon into letting him sneak into his room at night and sleep on the floor. There was no lock on his bedroom door, so Simon had to jam a chair under the door handle to keep his mum out in the morning.

  ‘What’s this locked for, you never lock this, you haven’t even got a lock. Come and have some breakfast, you’ll be late for school.’

  ‘I want some privacy,’ yelled Simon, pretending to be irritated.

  ‘What do you want privacy for? No, don’t answer that. Get up. What a boy...’

  She left, suspecting nothing. Nick dressed himself in some of Simon’s old clothes - jeans and T-shirt, the first time he’d been in jeans for four months - and legged it out of the window and across the gardens to the road.

  Every day he went round to see if Davey was about, but every time he’d just missed him, or he was hiding out somewhere, or something. The O’Brians wouldn’t tell him what was happening, and had started to get fed up with him nosing about. He began to worry. He’d been relying on Davey to introduce him to his mate, Sunshine, who he reckoned would help them. If Davey had been recaptured, he was stuffed.

  Finally, out of sheer boredom and desperation, he went round to see Jenny.

  He had to walk to Middleton, the tenner Mrs Simon had given him was long gone. He got there about four. Jenny wasn’t home but Grace and Joe were already back and sitting in front of the TV eating cereal. The house was one of those that stand right on the street, and Jenny didn’t like nets, so he was able to grab a peek in as he walked past. He walked around a bit more until he saw that her car was there. He was that scared - look what had happened last time. He had to walk past two or three times more before he picked up his courage and knocked.

  When she saw him standing there she leaned out of the door, glanced up and down the street, reached forward, hooked him around the shoulder and dragged him into the house. In alarm, Nick dug his heels in.

  ‘Get in here, the police are looking for you, do you know that?’ she hissed in a low voice. Nick let her pull him and she closed the door behind him.

  ‘Nick, you lovely, lovely boy!’ He was amazed - she was delighted! She hugged him like he was one of her own. Over her shoulder, Nick could see Grace and Joe looking at him, smiling slightly despite themselves because her glee was infectious.

  Jenny spun round and pointed her finger at Grace. ‘You dare,’ she said. ‘You just dare.’ Grace scowled and looked away. ‘Come on, Nick - we need to talk,’ she added, and pulled him off into the kitchen.

  ‘They’ve been round asking for you,’ she told him. He was sitting down at the kitchen table and she was busy at the stove. Everyone wanted to be his mum - for one or two nights only.

  ‘Did they come round here?’

  Jenny nodded. ‘They said I was to report as soon as you showed up. They’re pretty sure you are going to show up. The thing is ...’ She glanced over her shoulder at him. ‘Apparently, Nick, you’re dangerous.’

  ‘Dangerous?’ Nick was surprised.

  ‘A desperate character. Violent.’ Jenny looked over at him, trying to keep the question out of her face.

  He shrugged. ‘There was a fight. Everyone has fights in there.’

  Jenny nodded encouragingly.

  ‘It was a bad one. They’d locked me up - in the Secure Unit. Solitary,’ he explained. ‘I suppose I was a bit off me head.’

  Jenny gawped. ‘Solitary?’ she asked.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Bloody hell, that sounds rough. This lad - did him a bit of damage, did you?’

  ‘Yeah. But we’re mates. We made up afterwards.’

  Jenny turned away. ‘Beans on toast, double fried egg,’ she said, putting the plate down in front of him. She sat down with her tea and watched him eat, while she leant back in her chair and lit a fag. ‘You’re staying here from now on,’ she told him. ‘I don’t care what Batty Batts and the rest of them say - this is your home. I agreed with your mum, if anything happened, we’d look after each other’s kids. You’re mine now.’

  Nick didn’t say anything as she talked. He just ate, and listened.

  ‘Twat face has been kicked out,’ said Jenny, referring to Ray, who had got drunk at the meal she’d given - only a few months ago, all told. She nodded firmly. She didn’t mention Grace, since Nick had no idea of her part in the fiasco, but Grace had been rumbled and hung out to dry by her heels several times. Progress was being made.

  In an odd way, Jenny felt a debt of gratitude to Nick.

  This whole thing had made her really focus on getting her life together for the first time. She was at college, she was working part time, the kids were doing well at school. She was impressing herself.

  She nodded. ‘It’s all going to be done properly this time,’ she said.

  Nick never even paused. Fork to plate to mouth. Fork to plate to mouth. Listen.

  I’m wise to the Mrs Batts of this world, too,’ went on Jenny tapping her ash. ‘Just because they hold all the cards doesn’t mean there aren’t things you can do. First thing is to get you assessed. Not everyone is suitable for those Homes - they should never have put you in one of them after Muriel died, they’re not for orphans. You’ll have to go back for a while, of course ...’

  She looked at him to see how he took this.

  ‘It’s not a very nice place,’ said Nick evenly.

  Jenny pulled a face. ‘Trouble is, Nick, if we don’t do it officially, then you’re just on the run, permanent. That’s how it’ll be. No school. Muriel wanted you to go to Uni, didn’t she? You won’t even get a job in a shoe shop without a few O-levels these days. The police hunting you down all the time. If you give yourself up it would be better than waiting to get caught. They’ll get you in the end, you do know that, don’t you?... But listen, let’s leave that till tomorrow. We’ve got a bit of time. They’re not exactly watching the house. Have to be careful, though, the local coppers have got a description, maybe even a picture

  Grace appeared at the door holding the phone, her eyes fixed on Nick.

  ‘Is it for me?’ Jenny got up and took the phone. ‘Hello... just a minute, Nick, I’ve got to take this ...’ She wandered into the front room and up the stairs to talk in private. It was someone from work, ringing up to discuss a case. It didn’t take long, just a couple of minutes, but when she got back to the kitchen, Nick was already gone. Jenny stared at the plate of half-eaten food, then up to the back door. It wasn’t closed, just pulled to. She rushed to it and opened it. Nothing. She ran out into the little paved yard at the back. The gate was ajar. She opened that and looked out.

  Nothing. Once again, he’d eluded her care.

  ‘You might at least have let me give you some bloody money!' she yelled. But there was no reply.

  Nick spent another uncomfortable and anxious night in the garage. If the police were looking for him at Jenny’s, they’d be looking for him here, too. He’d been lucky, but it wasn’t going to last. He needed to move on.

  He dozed and fidgeted on the old sofa till mid-morning, when he went around to see if Davey had turned up. He was in luck. There he was
, hanging out with his brothers outside the house.

  ‘I thought I told you to get lost,’ one of them said.

  ‘He’s one a mine,’ said Davey. ‘Broke out of Meadow Hill with ’im, din I?’ And never again did any of them take against him.

  ‘Where were you?’ asked Nick.

  ‘I was ’ere.’

  ‘I was.

  ‘You weren’t!’

  ‘I was late,’ admitted Davey.

  They grinned at each other. Brothers in arms - two of a pair.

  ‘What you been doin’?’ asked Nick.

  ‘Been around,’ said Davey, winking, as if he’d bought and sold the world in the days since they’d seen each other. In fact, Davey had been sleeping with various mates. He was having to be wary at home. Normally his dad let him stay for a while at least, but not this time. He’d called the police in on him right away, but his mum had told him, which was why Davey hadn’t been around much.

  ‘Bit a business,’ said Davey. ‘Bin to see my mate Sunshine. Still interested?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Let’s go.’

  So they went.

  23

  Sunshine

  Davey led him out of Ancoats and in towards the town centre until they arrived at the door of an impressive Victorian brick building on Oldham Street, stained with the black grime of decades of chimney smoke, the door peeling, the windows covered in grime. They walked past the grand entrance, around the corner to a small, grubby door painted dark green with an intercom on the side. Davey pressed the intercom button. There was a long wait. He pressed it again. There was another long wait.

  Eventually, the intercom made an incomprehensible scratchy noise, in what sounded like a female voice. Davey yelled his name, and after several more scratchy noises, the door buzzed loudly. He threw his weight against it, the door flung open and they stumbled into a dark hallway, with a set of narrow stairs running up out of sight into the darkness.

  It was a winding way to Sunshine’s place. Twice they left the stairway to follow a corridor and then went up a different set. Nick could tell they were getting near because of the dull, heavy thud of music coming through the walls. By the time they actually arrived at Sunshine’s Nick had no idea if they were even in the same building they had entered down on the street.

  Sunshine’s door was a battered interior door off a nondescript corridor, that looked no different from several other doors along the same wall. It looked as if they had been unoccupied for years, except that the music was louder than ever. Someone had turned the bass on a set of big speakers right up high, and the noise was dully shaking the door, the floor underneath them, and the windows in their frames.

  Davey tried the handle but it was locked, so he banged furiously. After a short pause, the door was opened, letting out a blast of music into their faces. In front of them was a skinny girl, a few years older than them, very pale, with scruffy blonde hair, who looked as if she’d just got out of bed. She was wrapped up in a blanket, and Nick got the impression that she had nothing on underneath. When she saw Davey she smiled.

  ‘Davey, you little beast,’ she yelled over the music, leaning forward and planting a big kiss on his face.

  ‘Come on.’ She held the door open for them and they walked in.

  ‘My mate Nick,’ yelled Davey - they all had to shout to be heard. The girl lazily flung an arm round Nick’s neck and gave him a hug. ‘Name’s Red. Told us about you,’ she said in a blurred voice. ‘Desperado. On the run. Fantastic.’

  ‘Where’s Shiner?’ asked Davey.

  ‘No point yellin’ for him, he’s half deaf, anyway,’ she said, leading them down yet another corridor. ‘Lies around all day with his ’ead in the speakers. How’s yer old man, then, Davey?’

  Davey let out a stream of swearing that made her grin. ‘Sod ’im,’ he ended up. ‘I decided to hang out with my mate Nick ’ere,’ he said, nudging Nick in the ribs. ‘’E’s the man with the plan, is our Nick.’

  ‘What plan?’

  ‘Any plan.’

  Nick was surprised. Davey was the one who knew how to get out of Meadow Hill. But somewhere down the line, Davey had decided that Nick was the brains of the operation.

  ‘Don’t tell Shiner, then,’ warned the girl. ‘He likes to be the only man round here with the plan. Or anything else, come to that,’ she muttered. She led the way inside, through a large, greasy kitchen and into a darkened room, littered with old armchairs and piles of cushions on the floor. She pointed at the cushions, and they went and lay on them, while she went over to a dark pile in the corner and whispered to it. A moment later she returned to them holding a huge glowing spliff, reeking of weed. Davey took it, grinned at Nick, lay back, and took a long drag, which made him cough and splutter.

  ‘Not used to it, they don’t supply it in Her Majesty’s,’ he explained.

  The girl laughed at him. ‘Yer not in nick yet,’ she told him.

  ‘Matter a time,’ boasted Davey brightly, at which she rolled her eyes.

  When his turn came, Nick sucked on it a bit more cautiously. He didn’t know what on earth was going to happen in there, but if anyone wanted him to do a job, he didn’t want to be so far gone that he couldn’t do it.

  The room they were in was stacked up with all sorts of stuff - crates of beer, cardboard boxes, poly-wrapped goods that would have looked more at home in a warehouse. There was a pinball machine in one corner, and a road of vinyl records snaking around the walls on the floor, several hundred of them. He had a look at the ones near to him. It was reggae, all bands he had never heard of.

  Sunshine’s flat was an enormous, rambling thing, stretching over several floors and maybe even more than one building. No one was quite sure where it began and where it ended, not even him. Over the years he’d burrowed his way through the walls, up, down and everywhere, opening up new places to hide his secrets. The attic, filthy with a century of dust and pigeon droppings, was full of mysterious mounds stacked up under tarpaulins. What was under them was anyone’s guess - maybe electronic equipment, maybe forged money, maybe bodies cut up and set in concrete. Mostly likely, though, it was just stacks of rubbish he was hoping to sell on one day. Shiner was a hoarder. He’d been living here for years, slowly filling the place up with anything he could lay his hands on. Old chairs, broken electronic equipment and handfuls of cutlery he’d rescued from skips lay heaped up with antiques raided from posh shops, old newspapers and magazines, palettes for firewood, clothes, three-piece suites and other items he’d bought under a false name from a catalogue. You name it, it was there, somewhere. It was finding it that was the problem.

  Red soon gave up trying to chat to them by bawling above the music and went back to flop down in the dark comer with Sunshine. At first, the only sign of life next to her was the dull red glow of another spliff, glowing bright as Shiner sucked at it, and clouds of thick, pungent smoke. As his eyes got used to the gloom, though, Nick couild just about make out a figure lying full length on the cushions, his dreadlocked head in Red’s lap, smoking a big, fat spliff.

  Despite trying to stay clear-headed, after only a few drags, Nick was glad he was sitting down because otherwise, he’d have been staggering like a toddler around the room. At some point, the music was turned up even louder, until it was shaking his intestines and the bones inside him. He lost all track of time, and it could have been five minutes or an hour later, when the music got turned a few notches lower, and a short, stocky Jamaican man peeled himself out of the shadows and came across to meet them.

  He sat down in between them and crooked one arm around Davey’s, pulling so hard, he was bent over sideways almost into his lap.

  ‘Eh, man?' he said. ‘Eh, man? Eh?’ He beamed at Nick as he did it. ‘Now, don’t tell me, Davey, why you here? Your folk kicked you out again? You got a place to stay? You know we always have a space here for you, man.’

  ‘Me and me mate,’ said Davey, disentangling himself.

  Sunshine looked N
ick in the face. ‘Any friend of my friend is my friend,’ he said, and held out his hand for Nick to grasp.

  Straight away, he began rolling up another spliff. Shiner was permanently stoned and walked in a haze of smoke. He dealt in it, breathed it, believed in it, lived it. Sitting across from Nick, he smelt like a particularly spicy fruit cake not long out of the oven.

  ‘I love to smoke,’ he told Nick. ‘Red, get some beers for me friends. Beer’s nice too, but beer is a pleasure whereas weed, that’s an obligation, man. That’s it, take it all right down!’ he exclaimed as Nick took his turn on the end of the spliff. ‘Davey boy - why you been keeping this nice smokin’ friend a yours away from me? Me can’t tell how bad me feelings is hurt.’

  He put his hand on his heart and burst out in a fit of giggles.

  Davey began telling the story of their escape from Meadow Hill. He really bigged Nick up. To listen to him, you’d have thought it only would have been possible with Nick at the helm sorting things out.

  ‘You won’t believe Nick,’ he kept saying. ‘Plans coming out of his ears. He farts plans, Nick does - can’t put two thoughts together without working something out.’

  ‘Can’t put two thoughts together, you mean,’ muttered Nick, getting embarrassed at all the attention. Shiner made it worse by turning to him and making amazed faces.

  ‘Man!’ he kept saying, and shaking his head in pretend admiration.

  Red came in with a four-pack of beers in her arms, tossed one to each of them and flopped down again next to Shiner who put an arm protectively around her, as he finished rolling another huge, triangular spliff.

  ‘What a life, eh?’ he said. ‘Bastards, rapists and thieves. Everywhere you turn the ungodly follow you, bad wishing at every turn. You got to stick with your friends, because it’s only friends make life worth living. And Ja, of course. But he’s not always too much in evidence, you know, man?’

  He roared with laughter and lit up, taking a few puffs before handing it to Nick, who took a few puffs out of politeness, before handing it on to Davey, who sucked enthusiastically and burst out coughing again.