Aye, an I can remember that one that time after thee Aintree races, which is a fuckin feat in itself considerin ow fuckin many there’s been down the years … when was it now, late sixties? Early seventies? Roundabouts then. I’d won a fuckin ton on the gee-gees like, tidy friggin sum them days, an there she was, on the cars like, waitin with her mate. Boots up to her knees, mini on, the werks – I thought aye-aye. Early doors n all, must be fuckin gaggin for it. An that’s exactly what she was, too right, shoulda fuckin heard her when I was slippin er one, all this ‘oooohh yeh, oooohh yeh’, derty friggin who-er this one was. Couldn’t help meself, spunked off inside er, didn’t I, said she was on the pill, like, so no one’s fault but her own, went back to her place that night an gave it a load more in the sitting room like, her ahl mother asleep upsters. Didn’t care in them days, me, fuckin wild one I was, tellin yeh … probly woulda boned the fuckin mother n all. Still would. Take a few lessons from me, them young bucks can … think thee know it all. Thee know fuckin nowt. Told the Judy I was gunna go get ferry tickets for us both, like, take her round Ireland with me winnins like, an the daft cow believed me; started goin on about gettin a cottage together over there, livin as man n wife like, avin bleedin babbies, usual shite that the tarts come out with. Left her packin her suitcase like, didn’t I, all quiet so’s not to wake her ma, jumped a cab down to the docks, overnighter to Dun Laoghaire, straight into the fuckin bar by the way, pissed before I passed the Isler Man. Blew all me winnins in a coupla nights, like, but I tell yeh, put me last fiver on a ranker at Lansdowne an the fuckin thing only went n won, didn’t it? So there I was again, back to square one, ginch in me pocket, werld me fuckin oyster. Fuckin charmed life, me, ah yeh. The gods’ve always smiled on this boy, too fuckin right.
So, anyway, I’m back at Aintree for the National the followin year likes, aren’t I? Gettin the cars ready, like, settin it all up, an there she fuckin is, this Judy like, holdin a baby. Like she’d been waitin for me all friggin year. Said the babby was mine an that she’d adter leave school to av it an all this kinda shite. Prove it, says I, I mean these were the days before DNA testin an all the rest of it an she says, ‘I’ve named im after you. I’ve called im Alastair,’ as if that’s any fuckin proof, like. So I tells er she shoulda called im ‘Any One of a Thousand Cocks’ but I tell yiz what, am dealin with one seriously fuckin dim Judy here, like, fuckin blank look on its kite, tellin yeh, lard fer friggin brains. So I tells her okay, let’s talk it through, takes it back to me carra an gives it another portion. The brat never stopped screamin once which made me think it couldna bin mine, like, cos no fuckin son o’ mine whinges that much (like my ahl man used to say, ‘Here’s somethin to cry for’). And the bint’s goin on, ‘Oh let’s go to Ireland, the three of us, take me away from all this, Alastair, let’s goan live in a cottage in the hills,’ an I’m all ‘yeh, doll, yeh’, I mean some fuckin dreamwerld this daft cow was livin in, like. Anyway, fucked it all night all fuckin ways with the brat bawlin its heart out like non-stop an I skedaddled when its ma nodded off, when I’d shagged it senseless. An I’ve never seen er since. She’s probly still waitin at Aintree racecourse for me, her an her son who must be about what, pushin bleedin therty now or summin … Tell yeh what, tho, if he friggin is mine, if he’s any kinda chip off thee ahl block he’ll be shaggin women all over the fuckin shop, lad, puttin it about like his ahl man did. Does. Never leaves, thee urge, like, an fuck knows what I’d do if I weren’t able to still pull the berds, like, fuck only knows what I’d do. I’m not like them other cunts my age, avin ter pay for it with the prozzies, fuck no. Thank Christ I can still get the women.
Ah yeh, I’ve got undreds of fuckin nippers, me. Thousands of em round ere, in this area, like. So many that I can’t remember em, not even one. None of the little fuckers, ah no.
DARREN’S VICTIMS: NUMBER 17
They did a wonderful job, those surgeons. Wonderful job. It took a while, a lot of time in theatre, but they really sorted it out; just a bit of scarring around the left eye, and a small curl to my top lip which Claire says sometimes makes me look like a young Elvis. She’s been brilliant, Claire has, never once flagged in her support in the three years since it happened. And the counsellors, too, especially that Dr Brierly; she’s been superb. Absolutely superb. If it wasn’t for her then I don’t think I’d be able to look in the mirror, still, even with this amazing work the surgeons have done. Honestly, she’s been an angel; so understanding, so supportive. All of them, Claire and Dr Brierly and the surgeons, they don’t realise what they’ve done for me, how they’ve stopped me being so afraid. Restored my faith in humanity, they have. Helped me to understand that there’s not danger everywhere. That not everybody wishes to cause me pain.
But it’s the boy, tho. Steven. My son. I fear that it’ll never be the same between me and him again. I know he finds it difficult now to look at my face for any length of time, I mean sometimes when we’re sharing a joke or something he’ll suddenly stop laughing and look away and fall silent and I know he’s remembering, he’s reliving that night and that thug and that glass. And it pains me, I mean it genuinely causes a pain in my heart because I can imagine what Steven is remembering at those times, it’s as if I can see it again through his eyes, I can see myself, my own face so terribly, traumatically wounded and the blood and that psychopath over me … Did I beg? I don’t recall. Oh God, I hope I didn’t beg. Maybe one day I’ll be able to ask Steven about it but when that day will come God only knows. He’s also had counselling, Steven has, and on the surface he seems to have adjusted well but it’s the little things, the small ways in which he’s changed his life; I mean he used to love football, he was Blackburn Rovers mad, but then he found out that Graeme Souness used to be connected to Liverpool and then he took all his posters down, stopped wearing his strip, his Sega World Cup Football game went in the bin … everything. He wouldn’t support England in the World Cup because of the Liverpool players so he switched to the Republic of Ireland, because of Damien Duff, but then he asked me why there were so many Liverpool flags among the crowd and I told him of the big Irish Catholic population in that city and so then he switched to Brazil. Must be so confusing for the poor little tyke. Neither of us watched the final, nor even the Brazil–England game, and Dr Brierly said that I shouldn’t push football completely out of my life, I shouldn’t let the attack change my life in such fundamental ways, but football, especially Rovers and Liverpool, obviously sets off the unpleasant memories, the horrors … Steven, tho, he can’t even watch Brookside any more. He used to love it, it used to make him laugh, he used to do mock-Scouse accents and find it funny. But not any more. I’m the same; that accent. It makes my palms sweat, now, whenever I hear it. It makes my heart thud. Once it made me hyperventilate and Claire had to call an ambulance, she thought I was having a heart attack. And all because a Red Dwarf rerun came on the telly.
And yes, I know it’s stupid, I know this reaction is ridiculous and irrational. It was just that one man, that one psychopath … just my bad luck that I happened to bump into that unhinged and unhappy individual that night. And, God knows, there are people like him in every town and city across Britain, even down the road in Blackburn, drinking cider all day on the steps of St George’s Hall, but I can’t help feeling partly foolish and embarrassed and naive because … well, Claire and I, we’ve had only the one argument since IT happened, and during the course of that she told me I was naive, that I never followed football as a boy, that there was no way I could understand the passions it aroused especially among more disadvantaged people and that going into a pub in the city where my team had just won, wearing their colours, was pure and simply asking for trouble. Thinking about it, I’m afraid she was correct; but it was for Steven, really, I did it for Steven so he wouldn’t feel excluded at school, and besides, I thought the days of hooliganism were long gone, that fans were largely friends, now … evidently I was wrong. Or partly; I mean, I still remember outside Anfield that night, after the game
, a Reds fan shook my hand and said well done and good luck. ‘Good luck’! I had the worst luck in the world that night. If only Steven hadn’t’ve been there. If only we hadn’t’ve missed the train, or if only we’d gone to a different pub to await the next one. If only, Dr Brierly said, are the two saddest words in the English language. She’s right.
But I’m recovering. I’m getting over it. I hope Steven is too, and that our bad dreams will stop, and that I’ll be able to find another job, and that one day he’ll be able to look his father in the face again. And that some day we’ll both be able to accept that evil walks the world and there’s really very little we can do to protect ourselves against it and that it’s always been that way. In its rarity lies the hope, Dr Brierly says, and Claire has said that too, but I wonder about that, I really do. I mean surely the fact that it’s there around us and we cannot defend ourselves against it … I wonder. It still hurts when I smile.
But they’ve been wonderful, tho, really, the surgeons and Claire and the good Dr Brierly. They’ve all done an excellent job. Really; I don’t know what I would’ve done without them, I really don’t.
DARREN’S VICTIMS: NUMBER 21
NO DON’T HIT ME PLEASE GOD PLEASE GOD GET THEM AWAY GET AWAY DON’T LET THEM HIT ME WHAT’S THE FUCKIN CODE YER AHL CUNT GIVE ME THAT CODE OR AL SMACK YEH AGAIN NO DAR DON’T HIT HER MATE DON’T USE MY FUCKIN NAME SOFT-SHITE DON’T HIT HER MATE SHE’S HAD ENOUGH YEH DON’T AVTER HIT HER AGAIN PLEASE LISTEN TO YOUR FRIEND THE POLICE WILL D’YEH WANT ANOTHER LUMP YER AHL FRIGGIN BITCH GIVE US THE CODE I WON’T FUCKIN ASK YEH AGAIN YEH MIGHT KILL HER DON’T DON’T SHE’S OLD MATE SHE’S ALREADY HURT FUCKIN WILL KILL HER LAR N ALL I DON’T GET THAT FUCKIN CODE LAR SEE THIS HAMMER YEH FUCKIN NO PLEASE NO PLEASE I HAVE MONEY TAKE MONEY THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT AM TRYIN TER DO FER FUCK’S SAKES I MEAN JUST GIVE IM THE CODE LUV AN WE’LL GO THAT’S ALL WE WANT I’M NOT GUNNER HERT YEH GIVE US THE FUCKIN EMRYS! EMRYS! OH JEEZ DARLIN NO PLEASE DON’T SHOUT ARGH YEH FUCKIN AHLD NO DARREN NO DON’T HIT HER ARGH PLEASE DON’T SHOUT LOVE JUST GIVE US THE CODE AN WE’LL LEAVE YOU ALONE I PROMISE GIVE ME THE FUCKIN TAKINGS BITCH TAKE THEM JUST TAKE THEM GIVE US THE FUCKIN CODE WELL EMRYS! OH NO PLEASE DON’T CALL YER HUSBAND LUV JUST HELP ME SOMEONE GOD HELP ME THE CODE TWAT THE FUCKIN COOOOOODE
Numbers then noise. Then numbers and a noise. Then a lot of money.
ALASTAIR
Oh shite that fuckin no-mark bastard that was too far he went too far im I’m not avin that he’s not getting away with that he’s one fuckin psycho balloonhead he is that was too much that was sick no fuckin need man what do I do now oh Jesus Christ God what do I do now tell me
get that bag I’m gunner get that fuckin bag he’s gunner be sorry I’m gunner fuck that bastard up BIG time
all he deserves
someone’s granny someone’s missis
should never have gone to Wales with him shoulda known better know what he’s like he’s pure fuckin sick he’ll welly anyone even sweet ahl ladies he’s parro about evrythin he’s pure wrecked in thee ed
no need for that man no need at all he’s wacko he’s wacko he should be locked up that fuckin bastard
that’s it between me n im now I’m avin nowt to do with that fuckin nutter that idyit that prick he’s fuckin mental loop-the-loop he is he’s fuckin
gunner get iz man tellin yeh no lie about fuckin time that arsewipe paid too right
all he deserves
he’ll gerrit
that’s it between me n im
psycho, sicko
Tommy’ll do fuck all just laugh they’re as bad as each other wankers
sweet ahl granny like that like me own granny dyin there in thee ozzy thee age of her like so old she gets through it all through life an evrythin all them bad years an she don’t deserve some sick no-mark knob’ed comin into her shop
I’m sorry my nain I’m so sorry that cunt’s gunner get iz
youse watch me youse just wait n see
that’s it now man that’s it
not right in thee ed that fucker not right not right it’s all gone wrong
I’ll make it right
I will
what do I do now oh God what do I fuckin
DARREN
Aw man, that was so friggin easy … eeeaaasssyyy … so easy, lar … easiest four grand I’ve ever made that like no fuckin lie … I can do anythin in the werld, now, wharrever I fuckin want … snort me gack off this slag’s chest … no tits on it like but so fuckin what lar I’m livin fuckin large … this charlie … the weight of the ruckie on me knees like just fuckin perfect lar, knowmean? … fuckin brewstered, man … am friggin rich as … so fuckin powerful with these big bucks I can do wharrever the fuckin hell I wanner do an no fucker’s gunna stop me no fuckin Hunter clan no fuckin Lenny Rees no fuckin Gozzy Squires no Tommy not even any fuckin Joey … all me own werk this is so fuck them … is right …
… gunna watch that fuckin Alastair tho … softlad’s all fuckin tampin cos I adter give that ahl queen a bit of a wellyin … knob’ed dozen unnerstand, like, that yer’ve gorrer be ruthless in this fuckin game, yer not gunner get nowt for nowt … lesson for life, that, tellin yeh … never get anythin for nowt … gorrer fuckin assert yerself like …
… stop movin about, will yeh, yer spillin the fuckin beak …
… just gorrer av the guts, like, thee arse, the balls … gorrer go out n take … don’t owe no cunt notten … it’s all fuckin yours, man, it’s all out there, just gerroff yer arse an take it … grab it … make it just pure fuckin yours, knowmean? …
… keep one beam on that Alastair, tho … cunt’s up to somethin, I just fuckin know ee is … can read that bastard liker buke … thinks I itter too hard, fuck’s … she’ll be alright … hardest bone in the body, that human skull … an anyway notten stands between me n what’s mine, no fuckin way … paid me bleedin dues, me … no lie … entitled to some kinder fuckin reward arn I …
… I can do anythin, now, anythin I’ve ever friggin dreamed of … an I’ve dreamed of fuckin lotser things … no lie … believe …
… aw man, this bugle … she’ll smoke the bone if I can gerrit up, like, cos sometimes the gack does that to me, sometimes … does it to fuckin everyone, man, not just me … but fuck ow it feels in thee ed …
… so good, lar, so happy … evrythin’s gunner be alright, fuckin evrythin … it’s just gunner get better n better n better … eeyar, Darren lad, the werld is fuckin yours … like that globe statue thingio in that film Scarface said, ‘the werld is yours’ …
… an it is, Darren, it is … oh too fuckin right yeh …
… believe.
DEAN
An Jeez that’s not the face yeh wanner see on yer doorstep all unexpected like, now, is it? Checkin on yer little sis an her mates, like, makin sure none of em’s done too many pills or too many friggin Breezers an are chokin on ther own spew, like, an bing-bong the doorbell goes an yeh answer it an who’s there? Fuck me I did not expect this, man. Thee eyes on the fucker.
—Darren? The fucker you doin ere?
All I can do to stop meself from screamin. Ee tells me he needs a place to crash. Tells me, like, too much to expect that twat to do anythin as nice as friggin ask … But nah, he’s alright really, Darren is; never given me any grief, like, personally, an I’ve known im years. I know how he can be, God yeh, I’ve seen him lose it with mushers, like, on many an occasion an there’s some hard fellers, that Stega for one, who’re absolutely shiters of him an that but I’ve gorrer say, like, gorrer admit, he’s always been sound with me. Member when I first moved out here from Prenton about two years ago an Darren invited imself to me house-warmin do, like, an comes up to me all charlie’d up an says he’d like a bit of the market, like, slice of the pie, meanin the coke an billy dealership I was gunner set up in Wrexham after the Birkenhead market got too chocka an started to attract some bad, bad people, an I mean really fuckin bad … I told im no. Just that; ‘No’. Fergerrit, lad, I said. An he threw h
is hands up, like, says fair enough, fucks off back to the party. An that Peter comes up to me, asks if I knew who that was I’d just KB’d, I says I couldn’t give two fucks who he was, I didn’t need any kinder partner. Coked up at that stage I was, see. Peter just laughed, told me to watch me back, fucked off back to that bird he was seein, that mad one who apparently strangled her boyfriend to death last year sometime, can’t remember her name now. But yeh, never ad any trouble from Darren, that night or since; I think he kinda respected me, standin up to im, likes. Think he thought I was alright after that episode, no pushover like, knowmean?
Still n all, tho … he’s not the kinda feller you want in yer house. Not at yer little sister’s birthday bash, like, oh no. His is not the face yeh want turnin up on yer doorstep without warnin, like. He’s clutchin that ruckie to his chest like it’s, what, a baby or somethin, no, a gold-plated diamond-encrusted Stanley knife or somethin an he’s got his gormless mate in tow, one ugly get with zits an a basey who says nowt, just stares round at evrythin as if he’s just payin a visit from another fuckin planet. Thee’ve got an air about them, these two, I mean ther guilty as fuck of somethin, some bad thing thee’ve just done comin off em liker bad stink. An I’ve gorrer invite em in, like, avn’t I? I mean, what else can yeh do? An call it a deathwish or wharrever but I tell em one great big fuckin lie about bein in New York when the towers came down; I don’t know why I do it but I’m almost crackin up, me, I mean it’s so friggin funny, I’m almost startin to believe meself, tellin em I was gettin stoned with me brother when the planes hit when the truth be told I was in a boozer in Chester. An then all that stuff about gettin arrested an taken to thee interrogation room! Jeez, it’s all I can do to stop meself laughin in ther faces, ther takin all this shit in. I mean I was in NY, yeh, but this was months before September 2001 but I mean this is just so funny, comin out with all this crap, like, an them two just standin there gawpin, believin it all … dead funny. Score:
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