What did bother me, though, was the types Mark was getting in with. People like my mam who’d sell their kids for a hit of smack. Mark never got like that, not when I knew him anyhow, but these types he hung round with were frightening. I tried to get out the house when they were round. When I did stay in I watched them file into the living room like a bunch of ghosts, all pale and skinny so’s they didn’t fill their clothes. There was a layer of grease on their skin, a yellow pallor what lit up their faces in this weird shit way. And there was summat else. A hunger in their eyes, like they would do owt for their next hit. A lot of them carried knives too and it made me dead nervous. They were the sort of ghosts what you should of been scared of.
This one Monday morning I was sat in the kitchen coming down. I felt hollow inside, emptied out like I was just a shell and a pulse. I felt like shit to tell you the truth. I drank coffee and that didn’t help, making me shake and my heart thump hard against my breastbone. When I leaned back against the kitchen chair I could feel the wood vibrate against me. Jon was burning toast and asked me if I wanted some. I didn’t feel hungry ner nowt though.
‘Can I come out wi-yer one weekend?’ Jon asked me.
‘What so’s you can end up feeling shit, like what I do?’ I said. He’d caught me at a weak moment, but not that weak. ‘Yer way too young,’ I said.
‘You was using and dealing when you was my age. Regular,’ Jon said.
I shook my head. ‘I was meking deliveries, and helping Mark out, but not at shit like raves. And I wan’t teking much. Who said owt else?’
‘Mark.’
‘Well you shun’t listen to him. Anyways, you’re getting a proper job. Summat what won’t get you into trouble,’ I said.
Jon sat there, munching his blackened toast and staring me out. ‘How do I do that then? Wi-out going ter school ner-nowt?’ he said.
‘I’ll sort you a tutor,’ I said.
Jon went out the room then, shutting the door a bit harder than normal on his way. It wasn’t a full-on slam but enough to make sure I knew he wasn’t happy with that idea. I skinned up a joint. I needed summat to help me chill. Yeah, a tutor, I thought. Then Jon could get some real exams behind him and do summat good with his life. He had some brains, did Jon, like me, and I didn’t want him to end up using them the way I’d had to. And I wanted summat to get him out the way from twelve till two. That was when Mark’s cronies came over, the half-dead junkies what he based his side of the business on. They used our back room to shoot up that shit. Mark didn’t make Jon stay out the room when they were shooting up, though he wasn’t even twelve yet. It were fucking me off but to do owt about it’d of meant a big row and I couldn’t be arsed with that. It’d just make life easier if there was summat Jon had to keep him occupied through all that. I could afford it easy.
I would of just sent him to school but it wasn’t an option. The education welfare sent letters to my mam and I sent them back ‘not at this address’ which was true. When they came round I made Jon hide behind the sofa and told them she’d gone off to Newcastle and took the little boy with her. I was sixteen by then and might of been allowed to look after him, cept with my history, being in the EMHG and all that, I doubted it. I wasn’t taking that risk. Wasn’t having him put into care, not for no one.
I heard the door go, saw the back of Jon’s head go through the gate. I wondered where he was off to. Probably to cause trouble with some other kids. I remember being Jon’s age, the shit we got up to. Writing our names in twelve-inch letters under railway arches. Breaking into people’s sheds and nicking stupid stuff out their gardens, gnomes and ornamental wheelbarrows and that kind of crap. We used to go out breaking glass at night. A beer bottle cracking open on the edge of a kerb, a dead sound like someone’s skull breaking. A brick through a warehouse window. A stone or boot through a car windscreen, glass cascading and making pretty patterns like you get behind your eyes on a mushroom trip. That was my favourite. It were the sound I liked, the shh, shh, scream as the glass stretched and cracked and flew inside and outside the car. And, if you got lucky, the sudden shout of a car alarm breaking the monotony of the night. Then you were awake. Wide awake.
I wasn’t wide awake now but sleepy, coming right down. I dragged me-sen upstairs and collapsed in the bed without brushing my teeth or washing my face ner nowt. As I dropped off I felt empty, like part of me’d floated off through the window. I had that thing going off where you feel like you’re falling and jolt in bed. Then I was asleep, and dreaming of butterflies.
We found Robert cause he’d put an ad in the paper saying he was good for English and Maths tuition at all levels. I spoke to him on the phone and he said he was a supply teacher but was looking for summat more stable. I didn’t blame him. I wouldn’t of wanted to go into them classrooms full of kids who didn’t even know me and most of them didn’t have much time even for the good teachers. I’d been on the other side of that, and I wouldn’t wish it on no one. I put on my best jeans and even a bit of make-up the first time he was coming over. I didn’t want to look like a tramp.
We’d arranged that he’d come over about twelve every afternoon, just before Mark’s junkies did, so it’d keep Jon out the way. At about quarter-to there was this knock at the door. I checked my hair in the mirror on the way to answer, I don’t know why. I opened the door and he stood there, all wrapped up in this suit with a briefcase by his side. I laughed.
‘What’s funny?’ he said.
‘You in that get up, round here,’ I said. Then I looked at him proper, past the suit. Them clothes men wear are just to hide in. He had a way with him, I could see that even then. He was six foot two with thin blond hair, receding a bit at the temples. He should of been dead good looking cause he had huge blue eyes and lips like Elvis Presley but it didn’t quite work out on account of the hairline. Still, the way he looked at me freaked me out, the frown what settled between his big blue eyes, the smile he was showing off. The posh voice, cutting through the air like it meant business. But I’d learned by then. I looked away and shook my head. The only bloke I trusted with my heart was Mark.
I showed Robert through to the dining room, and shouted Jon down to work with him. He slid into the room and it were obvious he didn’t want to be there. I’d promised him all sorts if he did as he was told and tried his hardest. Robert took this test thing out and Jon sat and did it. I could tell by the way he screwed up his eyes he was trying his hardest. I chatted to Robert as Jon worked.
‘Where you from then?’ I said.
‘Reigate. It’s near London,’ he said. I didn’t like London. It were full of wankers who thought too much of themselves. He must of seen this in my face. ‘It’s on the way to Brighton,’ he said. I didn’t say owt. I noticed his gaze move to my tiny bookshelf above the old ‘gram. ‘What are those books then?’ he said.
I pulled one out. I hadn’t looked at them for ages. I brushed the dust off the cover and passed it over. The pictures were a bit dated now, the stuff people were wearing and even the colours seemed to have aged.
‘The rainforest,’ he said. ‘Have you been there?’
I snorted. ‘What d’yer think?’ I said.
‘You want to go?’ he said.
‘Was that an invite?’
He laughed then, and Jon tutted then shushed us. ‘I’m tryna work,’ he said.
I didn’t take no notice of Jon and sat round and chatted to Robert the whole lesson. I called him Rob after a bit, and he seemed to like it. I read the books about the Amazon with him and sat too close, shifting in my seat at the half smiles he threw round. Just goes to show how young I saw Jon as being, that I didn’t credit him with the nouse to notice us flirting, but I was a bit daft like that towards him.
It were after that I started to put money away. Talking to Rob about the rainforest’d set me off and I wanted to see it for real, watch butterflies and swing on lianas. That was why I liked him coming, really, more than owt else. I couldn’t talk to Mark about this shit. I’d
tried to, but he just lost interest and stared past my head at the telly. I bought this pull-along suitcase thing and started filling it up with cash. Mark’d forgot all about Mrs Ivanovich’s poison but I hadn’t. It were still buried in the garden, cept I had more idea what sort of stuff I might end up using it for now, line of business we were in. I buried the suitcase next to it one afternoon, while Mark was sleeping off a big hit of that shit he took. It were the one thing you could rely on, that he’d sleep for ages after if he took smack. He only took the very best, nice and pure and white as fresh snow. He kept three stashes, this, and then the ones he cut with other rubbish. I never asked what. Didn’t want to know.
I dug up the case every week or so and added more cash. Plan was, I’d fill it so much I’d have to sit on it to close it. Then I’d be able to go. Get my arse off to South America somewhere and leave all this behind. Even then I doubted I’d take Mark cause I knew it were just a matter of time before the junkie in him took over. But I planned to take Jon with me. It would be an adventure we could go on, the pair on us, and look for somewhere we fitted in cept this shithole of a place.
It wasn’t just that Rob’d put them ideas back into my head, it were other stuff too. Things with our business were getting hairy then, and I was scared, for Mark specially. Like I said, them as was into brown what he sold, they were psychos. And there was this new toy on the street then, specially treated cocaine what you smoked in a bong. Crack. It’s old news now, I know, but it wasn’t back then. Mark’d got hold of a load on it to sell, and was using it as well. I didn’t like the way it sent people, this drug. They went high enough, but with it came summat else. The animal, like what came over Mark without any drugs from time to time. There were already a few addicts on the estate. They were people your worst nightmares are made of. Werewolves. Bogeymen. Horses what come along at ten o’clock and do God knows what all to the children who are still awake. This one night we’d been on our way home when I got properly shitted up about the situation. All’s I saw was this kid running across the road with summat shiny in his hand. I didn’t notice it were a knife till the little shit got close and started slashing at my boyfriend’s jacket. Mark turned and belted the sod one, left him in a heap on the floor. But his hand was shaking as he unlocked our door five minutes later. His puffer jacket was shredded, the foam leaking out like pus.
The next day we went to this DIY place on Derby Road. ‘We need some security,’ Mark said, getting out these catalogues. He must of had an idea about all this, that we needed to sort summat out, cause he’d had these books a while and marked them all up. I wondered what’d happened to him before. Anyway, we got this dan video camera what could record hours of stuff. Mark said we could use it to have a laugh too, make a few home videos.
‘Some special-uns, maybes,’ he said, and winked at me so’s I giggled.
It were dead funny to watch Mark struggle with a drill to put the bogger up, a joint sticking out the side of his mouth as he tried to push the drill into the wall. He caught the look on my face and giggled, and then we were both laughing. Soon we were rolling on the grass in our front garden, all over each other, the drill going off by its-sen on the front doorstep, making a right racket. The middle-aged cow what lived a couple of doors down tutted as she passed our front yard but neither on us could of given a flying fuck for her opinion.
It were about a week after when they found that bloke in his own wheelie bin. The picture in the paper looked like the kid who’d had a go at Mark but I couldn’t be sure, it’d been too dark that night. Whoever’d done for him was a psycho bastard. They’d stabbed him over and over then tried to cut him all up, so’s they could get rid of him I spose. They didn’t have the guts for the job, though, so just left a load of holes in him. Nasty bastards. I know Mark’d gone too far with Phil but this was summat else. Well, it wasn’t till much later that I even considered much else about it.
After that wheelie bin thing, Mark slept with a hammer hung on a chain round his neck. It were another thing he’d had on his list for the DIY shop but he hadn’t started using it right away. It made me nervy laying next to him with that huge metal bastard hung round his neck like it were some fucked up St Christopher pendant. I watched him sleep, breathing so deep he was almost snoring, and sometimes with his eyes doing that REM thing what meant he was dreaming. And I wondered. What if he had a nightmare and didn’t know what he was doing, turned on me with his hammer?
It were round then I found out Jon’d been going to Mark behind my back. I caught them smoking spliffs together and wasn’t happy with neither of them. I’d tried to bribe Jon about the lessons, but Mark kept buying him the shit he wanted anyway. Then Jon moaned on and on about having to do the work and Mark told him to shut it. When Jon realised this wasn’t working, he tried a different tack.
‘I think that tutor nob fancies our Kez,’ he said. We were sitting in the front room watching Eastenders and passing round a doobie. ‘Ooh, do you want to go to the rainforest with me?’ Jon said, trying to take off Rob’s accent and not making that bad a job on it.
‘Shut it,’ I said. ‘He was just being friendly.’ Mark was passing the joint on to Jon and I knocked it out his hand and onto the floor.
‘What do yer think you doing?’ I said. But he looked straight past me and picked the joint up, passed it back to my brother.
‘Maybes I should be asking you that,’ Mark said, glaring at me. I didn’t like his eyes set on me like that and touched my chest, thinking of the hammer he held next to his skin at night. ‘Yeah, I’d whittle, if I were you and I were up to summat,’ he said.
‘I’m not up to owt,’ I told him. But for some reason I felt dead bad about what Jon’d said.
I was extra careful the next time Rob came over. I ushered him through to the back room and shut the door sharp so’s there was just him and Jon in there. I walked off but the door opened behind me.
‘Aren’t you going to join us today?’ It were Rob. He threw me that winning smile and I shivered.
‘I’m busy,’ I said.
‘It won’t be the same without our chat,’ he said. ‘Perk of the job.’ I wondered what was wrong with me that I always fell for this middle-class charm school shit.
‘I an’t got much interesting to say,’ I said. I noticed I touched my own hair as I said this, like a flirty little gell. I didn’t like the way his voice made me feel. Then Jon appeared behind Rob, touching his dreads all effeminate, making fun of me. I could of swung for the bogger.
The next day Jon wasn’t even there. He’d sodded off somewhere with his mates and I couldn’t find him.
‘Well no point wasting our time. Why don’t you do some studying today?’ Rob said. I laughed all nervous and touched my chest like I’d done when Jon’d tried to stir it with Mark.
‘Me?’ I said. ‘There in’t much point in that.’
‘I’m sure there is,’ Rob said, and he grinned at me.
We sat down at the dining table and Rob got out a couple of books he’d brought to work with Jon. ‘These are a bit easy for you but never mind. What’s your favourite subject?’ he said.
‘Biology. Well, entomology really,’ I said.
He started then, and looked up at me sharp. He laughed. ‘Entomology, huh?’ he said with this big thick grin all over his mug.
‘Yeah, what’s wrong wi-that?’ I said.
‘It just wasn’t the answer I was expecting,’ he said.
‘Yeah well, we in’t all ignorant boggers round here,’ I said. And I felt me-sen purse my lips like the middle-aged cow next door but one.
‘Entomology, then,’ Rob said. And he wrote a test for me on his notepad. It were easy stuff, specially the first few questions. How many legs he started with, and the difference between insects and other bugs like spiders. These questions made me snort out loud and there wasn’t one thing he wrote I couldn’t answer.
‘Do you want to travel, Kerrie-Ann?’ he asked me then.
‘Yeah, I do, more than
owt. I want to go to Brazil,’ I told him.
‘I’m going to take some time out and travel,’ he said. I wasn’t sure but the way he said it and how he turned his head, it were like an invite.
Then Mark walked in with this junkie mate of his. I didn’t know the bloke’s name. I didn’t know any of their names, made a point of not talking to them. ‘Where’s Jon?’ Mark said. I didn’t know if he’d been on heroin or crack and it were important to suss this, cause it made all the difference as to whether he was going to lose it or not. The way he rolled his eyes and swayed a bit made me think crack, and I hoped not.
‘He’s sodded off,’ I said. ‘We’re hoping he’ll come back.’
‘Wanta do some brown wi-me, schoolboy?’ Mark asked Rob. He grimaced at the tutor.
‘No ta,’ said Rob, clearing up his stuff. He turned to me. ‘I’d better go, then.’ I nodded at him. He picked up his briefcase and walked towards the door. Mark blocked his way.
‘It in’t time to go yet. And you was staying before I came back,’ he said. He turned to me. ‘Any truth in the crap Jon was spouting about this nob the other day?’
‘Did we look like we was shagging?’ I said.
‘Yer looked pretty cosy ter me,’ Mark said. He turned to his junkie mate. ‘Wan’t they nice-an cosy back then?’ he said. The bloke nodded. Then Mark pushed Rob to the side of the door and nodded his head back towards it. ‘Gerrout Kez,’ he said.
‘I’m not going nowhere,’ I said.
‘Fine. Then we’ll do it in front-a yer,’ he said.
Mark grabbed Rob by the shoulders and pushed him over to the table. He was smaller than the tutor but that didn’t matter cause he was so psycho and out on it. He pushed the poor bastard’s hands down on the table.
The Killing Jar Page 13