The Killing Jar

by Nicola Monaghan

  ‘Good fer you,’ I said.

  ‘What?’ she said, screwing up her eyes and lighting a fag.

  ‘Giving up the smack,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah,’ she said. And she smiled, but not that much.

  I looked at her and wondered if she’d manage to kick her habit, and what her body’d do next if she did. Would the way she smelled go back to that musky milky way it used to be? Would she fill out again, into the slim hourglass she was when I first knew her? Would her skin ever get back that glow of good health? Somehow I doubted it, no matter what she did. Even if she did stay off the shit she’d probably replace it with some other obsession. That was the kind of person she was.

  I sipped my tea. I promised me-sen again I’d never do brown.

  TWENTY

  Bek and Duggy came to be part of the furniture round ourn, and didn’t look like moving out months and months later. I guess I knew summat was going off with Duggy, but the problem was I didn’t take him serious at all. I talked to Mark about it, though, and he said I should threaten him to be on the safe side. I’d never done owt like that before, and I suggested it might be better if Mark did it. But he was having none of that. Said I needed to learn how to deal with this sort of shit. Said Duggy wouldn’t be a bad place to start, so I guess he didn’t take the bogger so serious neither. And when I found me-sen with him in the front room and everyone else off doing whatever they were doing, I decided to have a go. He was sat picking at his nails, half watching some Saturday morning rubbish on the telly. I stared at him doing that till he noticed. He turned and looked up at me.

  ‘What?’ he said.

  ‘What? It’s what I asked yer ages ago when yer first got here Duggy Bryant. Who the fuck are yer? And yer never answered me,’ I said.

  ‘Maybes I din’t get what yer was going on about,’ he said.

  ‘Yer remember me asking then, don’t yer?’ I said. You would of thought Duggy’d of blushed or looked away at that, but he didn’t. I should of known then he wasn’t just some kid fronting.

  ‘You know what I was getting at. I want ter know what’s going off,’ I said.

  ‘In terms-a what?’ Duggy said, blinking fast and holding eye contact. He looked like he was thinking about what I’d said, ticking it over through his brain and trying to work out what he could get away with saying.

  ‘I don’t know what. That’s why I’m asking, see. There’s summat going off what yer not telling me about.’

  ‘I don’t get where yer coming from.’

  ‘I’ll gi-yer an example Duggy Bryant. I gev-yer that pill, that day I first met yer, but yer din’t tek it,’ I said.

  ‘Din’t fancy it,’ Duggy said, quick as a flash.

  ‘Fair-nuff. But yer could of just said, instead-a pretending to tek it and hiding it down the back of the sofa,’ I said.

  ‘Din’t know yer so well then. Was try-ner mek a good impression,’ he said. He put it in a way what you couldn’t of argued with cept I wasn’t convinced.

  I slid over the sofa so’s I was right beside Duggy. I leaned over him, put my face in his. He tried to push me away but I bit into his nose, summat Mark’d told me to do if I ever wanted to make someone sit still. He’d given me a whole load of tips about this kind of thing, but I’d never used any of it before, never needed to. The heavy shit was all Mark’s side of the business. It felt good though, to have this big bloke squirming in pain and scared underneath me. Gave me a real power trip despite me-sen. ‘Don’t yer move an inch, Bryant, else I’ll bite it off,’ I mumbled, clinging to his nose with my teeth the whole time, grabbing his hands and digging in my nails.

  ‘Fuck you, Kez, what yer doing?’ he said.

  I sat astride Duggy. I’m not sure why I did this, it were just what came into my head. I felt his dick harden underneath me.

  ‘Now just what d’yer think you’re getting?’ I said, moving my mouth close to his ear and letting my hair fall into his face. ‘I don’t think so,’ I said. And I thrust my knee hard into the swelling at the top of his trousers. He let out a mad sound and curled up in a ball, pushing me away onto the arm of the chair.

  ‘Bitch,’ he said.

  ‘That’s just the start-on it,’ I said. ‘Yer don’t know how lucky yer are it in’t Mark having this chat wi-yer.’ But I looked at his face and I could tell he did. ‘Just watch yer step. Damn well mek sure me-n-Mark have no more reason to suspect owt dodgy’s going off. All right?’

  I walked out the room, pleased with me-sen. I didn’t look back to see what Duggy was doing, how he was reacting. I’ve learned since then that kind of thing is important. I could of told a million and one things from the look on the tosser’s face. I know that now.

  It were only about a week later when Bek came to talk to me about Duggy. ‘I found something,’ she said. Duggy was out with this bloke he’d got pally with, Chris summat his name was. He was one of them people who lived on the edge of my world. I’d known him since I was about six, and I’d had the odd conversation with him, but I couldn’t say he was a mate or owt like that. From what I gathered he was a good sort, bought off us from time to time and knew how to enjoy his-sen. I’d felt better since Duggy’d been hanging round with him. It’d put my mind at rest a bit. But that was about to be shattered to bits.

  Bek took me up to the box room the pair of them shared. She lifted up the blow-up mattress they slept on. Underneath was this one wonky floorboard.

  ‘I noticed cause I couldn’t get the mattress straight no matter how hard I tried. It was getting on my nerves and I tried to fix it,’ she told me. She wiggled the board round and it came off in her hand. Underneath there was this big Tupperware box. Bek pulled it out and put it onto the bare floor, re-covered the gap. I pulled the lid off. Inside was all this stuff. Notebooks. One of them small tape recorder things, the ones what fit in your pocket. Loads of them tiny tapes what went inside.

  ‘Yer played any-er them?’ I asked Bek, and she nodded. ‘Is this what I think it is?’ She nodded again.

  That bastard Duggy was police or summat. He’d put away tapes he’d made of a load of our conversations. Not just ones he’d been a part of, but stuff he must of listened to through doors, shit about Phil and all that even. No wonder he was so quick into the room when Jon went psycho that night. He was probably recording us, listening in with that crappy little taping machine. No wonder he’d been so good at calming Jon down. I’d been grateful for it at the time but I realised I should of seen through him there and then. I wondered how I could of been so dim and not realised what he was.

  Inside the books were notes about me and Jon and Mark. He’d got Mark sussed, that was for sure. Said he was psychotic and’d do owt if summat got in his way. His notes didn’t implicate Jon. I was glad about that at least. They said he was a normal, well-adjusted boy considering. That he’d not been involved in any of the shit Mark and me were on with. But it were what he’d wrote about me I found most interesting. He said I had a ‘borderline personality’ whatever that meant. Said I’d not been treated well, that I’d been brought up this way and didn’t know no better. Said Mark’d manipulated me.

  There was part of me thought about letting Duggy do what he liked with all that shit. They’d of put Mark away for good if he’d took that back with him to wherever he’d come from. Me, I’d get ten years tops, out in six for good behaviour. And Jon’d be all right. He’d get help to rehabilitate, they’d make him get some direction or summat. All this went through my head, weighed up and considered in the minutes while I waded through them books and Bek played the tapes to me. But I was a loyal kid and you couldn’t change that. Duggy was right that Mark’d manipulated me. But he’d took care on me too. I couldn’t just stand by and let him go down for life, not without warning him. I stopped the tape Bek was playing. I’d heard enough.

  ‘We got ter tell Mark,’ I said.

  ‘Mark’ll kill him,’ Bek said. She didn’t mean he’d just go mad, the way most people would of if they said this. She mea
nt he’d kill him.

  ‘It in’t a choice,’ I said. And I got up and walked out the room. Bek followed me.

  ‘Be a good gell and put that stuff back. We don’t want him to work out he’s bin proper fount out,’ I told her.

  ‘You can’t let Mark kill him,’ Bek said, following me into my bedroom. I turned to face her.

  ‘What yer suggesting? That I just lerr-im run ter wherever he’s come from wi-all that shit he’s got on us?’ I said.

  Bek walked deeper into my room. I prickled and stared at her. ‘C’mon, Kez. I’ve told you about this. I didn’t have to do that. I could’ve kept it all to myself.’

  ‘Then Mark’d of killed you too,’ I said.

  ‘That’s not why I told you and you know it.’

  There was a stand-off then, me staring at Bek and her staring back.

  ‘It in’t a choice,’ I told her again. I went in my top drawer, looking for the address book. I knew Mark was at this bloke’s place, someone who’d got this dodgy batch of pills to sell us. He was talking to him about a deal, in spite of me saying I wanted nowt to do with snide pills. He’d given me the bloke’s number. It were on a piece of paper I’d put inside my address book. I wanted Mark back, helping me sort out what to do about this.

  Bek walked over towards me. ‘Please, Kez. I love him,’ she said.

  ‘He’s a liar and a treacherous bastard. For fuck’s sake, I can’t believe we’ve bin putting the tosser up all these months and we’ve never asked for a penny from the pair on yer.’ I paused for breath. ‘How can yer love-im?’

  ‘I fell for him before I knew all about this. You can’t control someone you’ve fallen in love with,’ she said, hitting a chord and she knew it, cause I’d said the exact same thing to her about Mark at some point.

  ‘Can yer come up wi-any other way?’ I asked her.

  Bek looked round the room. ‘You could just get rid of all that shit he’s been collecting on you. Burn it or something,’ she said.

  ‘He’ll have more stashed other places. I’d put money on it,’ I said.

  ‘Couldn’t you just blackmail or kneecap him or something?’ she asked. She was clutching at fresh air and we both knew it.

  ‘And how’s that goin-ter look to whoever he’s working for?’ I said. ‘Nah, there’s only one answer.’ I turned to look at Bek. I thought she was about to cry and I held my hand out and touched her arm. She pushed me away. Then she launched her-sen at me. Like I said before, Bek was a psycho bitch when it came down to it.

  We were biting and scratching at each other, and I’d threw a few punches, though Bek fought like a typical gell, all teeth and nails. Things’d reversed and I was bigger than her, and stronger, but she was out of control. Then the worst thing happened what could of. Morph was still sitting on my dressing table. Bek flung her-sen round so much she ended up knocking the dresser, and Morph flew off the side of it.

  I heard the frame scrape across the wood of the table and looked down. I saw Morph flying across my bedroom, headed to the floorboards too fast and heavy for me to stop him before he hit. I was no better at catching butterflies than when I was five and ran round Mrs Ivanovich’s garden with a net. The glass round my butterfly smashed to pieces, making a harsh, musical scream what tore my nerves out. I saw it shatter and rain over the manky floorboards.

  I turned away from Bek and bent down, grabbed at the butterfly. I touched him and he crumbled in my hand, just like Mrs Ivanovich’d told me he would. There was this long shard of glass lying near him. I picked it up.

  ‘You bitch,’ I said to Bek. She looked scared then, like she thought I could of stabbed her or summat. I threw the shard on the floor and it shattered into smaller pieces, making a sound like water. I looked away from my friend, disappointed over what she thought of me.

  ‘Get out,’ I said. I meant get out the house and don’t come back. I was so mad over her breaking Morph. Bek didn’t know I meant that but she still left the room quick as a dart. I sat down on my bed and looked at the mess on the floor. It sounds stupid, getting so het up over a butterfly in a glass case. It wasn’t about what it were, though, but what it stood for – getting away and all that. And more. It were all I had left of Mrs Ivanovich. She’d gone, but she’d left this beautiful thing. Bottled a bit of where she’d been. She’d clutched it to her as the cyanide fumes got stronger, then knocked her cold, then stopped her breathing. It were like she’d left a bit of her-sen for me to keep. I’m sure she did it that way deliberate, so’s I’d find Morph and could keep summat of her with me. And now Bek and her psycho tendencies’d messed that all up. It were all Duggy’s fault, I decided as I sat there. If it wasn’t for Duggy, Bek and me’d never of had a fight like that and it’d never of got broke. He was going to pay for what he’d done.

  I stared into the mirror. Watched my eyes blink. Followed the line of my cheekbone round and then down. I thought about Bek, going mad at me. I thought about what she’d told me. She’d tried to do the right thing and she didn’t deserve to get her boyfriend killed on the back of that. But I couldn’t see Mark settling for owt else. It were too dangerous. For starters, Duggy knew about Phil. I shivered at the thought of what we’d need to do. I decided to go down and talk to Bek, see if she had any bright ideas about other ways to deal with it. Maybes we could sort it, and wouldn’t have to say owt to Mark at all, though I didn’t think I’d be able to keep such a stonking huge secret from him.

  I walked in the living room. Bek was there, shooting up. She gave me that same look Mark always did when I caught him in the middle of using, all sheepish and embarrassed. Like you’d caught them having a wank or summat. I spose it’s the same kind of self-indulgence is what it comes down to.

  ‘That’s a big shame.’ I pointed at what she was doing as if she might not know what I was talking about. ‘It won’t help owt yer know, not in the long run,’ I said. She smiled, kind of, and looked up at me.

  ‘It’s hard enough as it is, without all this stress,’ she told me.

  ‘Blame Duggy. He’s the wanker what dragged you into all this,’ I said.

  ‘I’m not sure it’s like that. I don’t know what’s going on with him but I don’t think it can be the way it looks,’ she said.

  ‘Course it’s the way it looks. They in’t nowt cept the way things look,’ I said.

  I sat down for a bit. Bek didn’t seem to have any more suggestions. I got up and went over to the ‘gram. The lid was padlocked down, and I took out a key and undid it. I lifted the lid and delved inside the part where normal people kept their records. Course, we weren’t normal people and kept different stuff in there instead. I took out a hundred in cash and a few wraps of Mark’s best heroin and gave them to Bek.

  ‘Tek this and gerr-out-er here,’ I said. She looked up at me all gormless. ‘Mark’ll want you out the way as well as Duggy. Best you run off now so’s no harm can come ter yer,’ I said. I bit my lip. I didn’t want Bek to go.

  ‘When d’you want me out by?’ she said.

  ‘Go now. Get yer-sen upstairs and tek what yer need and just gerr-out,’ I said, waving my hand at her. She got up, slow, and walked over to the door. She stood framed in it and flashed me a look, and for one moment I could see the gell I’d met all them years ago at the girls’ home. Then, quick as you like, the junkie was standing there again. Then she was gone, out my life for good this time. I held my head in my hands and breathed deep. I’d been right on Bek, she was a psycho but she was loyal as they came. I was going to miss her.

  I sat round then, waiting for Duggy or Mark to come back so’s we could start sorting things. I kept thinking of how to handle it but it all came down to the one thing Mark’d be prepared to do about the situation, and I wasn’t much more comfortable with that than Bek’d been. I thought about telling Mark, how I’d have to find the right time to do it, when he was in a good mood so’s he didn’t go psycho on me. He could go mad, given Bek was my friend and’d brought Duggy here. And I’d let her go, with our mon
ey and some of his smack. It’d not go down well if he worked that out. Why did Duggy have to go and turn out to be a copper? We were all having such a good time an-all.

  It were that Judas traitor bastard who turned up home first. He walked in the door all cocky and on one cause of summat he’d been up to with Chris. I looked him up and down.

  ‘What’s wrong wi-you?’ he said.

  ‘Nowt,’ I said. But I wouldn’t look him proper in the eye so he knew there was.

  ‘Where’s me gell?’ he said.

  ‘Gone.’

  ‘What d’yer mean gone?’ he said.

  ‘Ran off. Yer know what these junkies are like,’ I said.

  Duggy sat down then, drifting slowly back onto the sofa like he was full of air and it were leaking. His eyes’d took on that dizzy look what people get when they’ve been in an accident or seen summat nasty. It seemed he did care for Bek, was totally bothered she’d gone. He wasn’t just using her to get at me and Mark then, after all. There was more to it than that. I almost felt sorry for him. I remembered what he’d wrote about me, in one of them notebooks of his what was causing all this trouble. Borderline personality, he’d said. I wondered if that was why I could always see two sides to things, like the way I felt then, even feeling sorry for someone like Duggy who had it in for me and the people I loved.

  He held his head in his hands and cried. I don’t like it when men cry so I left him to it and went upstairs.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Mark was mardy for about a week after Bek went. I think he missed her too or maybes it were that he’d lost a punter. Maybes he was missing the heroin I’d let her take. He asked me a couple of times why she’d done a runner, but I said I didn’t know and Mark believed me cause he knew what junkies were like. He even said that, which made me glad I was looking after me-sen and Jon. It were clear we couldn’t count on him being round for good.