by Mick Scully
‘I’m going to put me trackies on.’
Upstairs Ashley looked at himself in the mirror again before removing the uniform. He’d found a clothes hanger and now kept it on that.
When Ashley came downstairs Karl was sitting hunched up on the settee, his hands in the pocket of his coat.
‘You cold?’
‘Not really.’
‘D’you want to play a game? On the computer.’
‘Not really.’
Ashley sat down beside his friend. Waited.
‘Have you watched the news?’ Karl asked.
‘No.’
Karl said nothing.
‘Why? What’s happened?’
‘Our Wesley.’ He paused, swallowed. ‘It was on the news.’
Ashley realised. ‘Oh shit!’ He waited for Karl to say more, but nothing came. ‘Is he injured?’
‘No.’
Ashley didn’t know what to say. The two boys sat in silence. Then Karl sniffed, he was sort of crying.
‘When?’
‘Friday. He was shot on Friday. They came to tell my mom on Friday night.’
‘Oh shit.’
‘Through the head. And the shoulder. Another bloke as well. Two of them. The other bloke’s not dead though. He got it in the chest.’ Each word came slowly. Each word took effort. ‘They’re bringing him to Selly Oak. The alive one.’
Ashley wanted to say something. He wasn’t sure exactly what you should say, but he had to say something. Briefly, very briefly, he wondered how the kid in the uniform would handle this. ‘Shit, Karl. That’s a real bastard.’ He’d heard his dad say things like that, but it didn’t really sound right. ‘I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.’ Karl looked down. Ashley left it a moment, then, ‘How’s your mom doing?’ That sounded right.
It took Karl a while to answer; he was trying, Ashley could tell, but it was hard. ‘Bad. Very bad,’ he managed at last and then the tears took him and he started to cry, a soft snivelly crying, without sobs.
Ashley wished he had some coke. He’d had some yesterday that Kieran had given him, but it was all gone. He got some weed from a kitchen drawer – the next best thing. He rolled the spliff in the kitchen, and took it in to Karl. ‘Here, mate. Make you feel better.’
Karl pulled at it like water. Ashley watched the smoke leave his mouth. Streams of it. He pulled again. ‘It was on the news.’ Smoke left Karl’s mouth with the words. ‘A photo of him as well. But not of the injured soldier. They never even mentioned his name. Just of Wesley. That’s policy. They just give the name and rank of the dead. Not the injured. Maddocks has been on the phone to my mom. The telly wants to talk to him. About what Wesley was like at school. For Midlands Today. Tomorrow.’
‘I’ll watch it.’
Now Karl lifted his head and looked at Ashley. He rubbed the back of his hand across his nose.
‘D’you want some bog roll?’
‘Ta.’
Karl had recovered a little when Ashley returned from the bathroom with a handful of tissue. Karl wiped his face. Blew his nose.
Ashley lit another joint. Made some coffee. Sometimes Karl talked, sometimes he didn’t. Ashley felt sorry for Karl and for his mom, he liked her, she had always been nice to him, had him over for Christmas dinner last year, but he was also pleased at the way he was reacting, helping his friend; he knew he was doing it right, just like the other kid would.
Karl couldn’t stop talking now. ‘My mom wouldn’t go to church this morning. She’s never missed before. Ever. The pastor came round. He was being nice and comforting us. Then my mom just gets up and starts marching round the room. Fucking Iraq, she says. Then again. Fucking Iraq. I never heard her swear in my life before. She’d swipe Wesley or me for swearing less than that. The pastor didn’t know what to say.’ And now Karl was laughing. Really laughing. Like it was comedy television. Then he stopped. Leaned back. ‘That’s why I came here. To get out.’
21
At least Kieran said he could leave the house in the evenings. It was doing his head in staying in all day. A fat woman carrying a bottle of wine held the door for him at Walton Tower. He could smell her perfume as he followed her to the lift. ‘If you breathe in deep there’ll be room for two,’ she said. ‘God, it stinks like a toilet in here.’ She pressed 13. ‘What floor you want, love?’
‘Same.’
‘You going to Mel’s? You a friend of Soph’s?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Didn’t think she knew any white lads. Ooh, I shouldn’t say that should I?’ The woman was nice. About thirty, with very big tits, like a shelf, and glossy white hair with dark roots. A lot of make-up. Glasses with fancy frames. She reminded him of someone. Off the telly probably. ‘What’s your name, love?’
‘Ashley.’
‘Mine’s Sharon.’
Mel was standing at the open door of the flat. As she left the lift and saw her, Sharon gasped dramatically, clasped her free hand to her chest and seemed to just save herself from stumbling. ‘God give me breath. Like a gas chamber in there. You’d be dead before you got to eighteen. All blokes should be fitted with catheters. The law.’ She held the wine up to Mel. ‘Offering. A touch of Bulgarian magic for afterwards.’ Mel took the wine. ‘Ta, Shaz.’ As Sharon hugged her Mel noticed Ashley.
‘I was adopted.’ Sharon nodded towards Ashley. ‘In the lift. This young man escorted me up. But it’s your daughter he’s interested in. Doesn’t appreciate the older woman.’
‘Hello, love. I didn’t know you was coming.’
‘I texted Sophie.’
‘Is she here yet? Jade?’ Sharon’s voice took on a whisper.
Mel lowered hers. ‘Been here since six.’
‘Oops! Last one to the party again. How is she?’
‘How d’you think? Not good.’
Ashley followed the women into the flat. Two others were sitting on the settee, both blonde, one with her hair tied back in a tail. The other had bruises all over her face; her lower lip was cut and swollen. Sharon pushed towards her. ‘Oh my poor darling.’ She hugged her, nearly falling on top of her. ‘If I had a gun,’ she said, steadying herself, ‘I’d shoot the bastard. I’d shoot all of ’em.’
Sophie was sitting cross-legged on a big cushion on the floor, her headphones in, watching the television. Mel nudged her in the back with her foot. She turned. Saw Ashley. Pulled the headphones down.
‘Hiya. Didn’t know you was coming.’
‘I texted.’
Sophie rose slowly from the cushion. Sharon came to hug her. ‘How’s my precious?’ She tapped Sophie’s belly. ‘Blooming beautifully I see.’
‘Yeah. I’m all right.’ Then to Ashley: ‘Let’s go into the kitchen.’
‘Don’t let her smoke in there, love, will you?’
‘He’s got a name you know, Mom. It’s Ashley.’ Ashley had never heard Sophie call Mel Mom before.
‘Sorry, love. Ashley. Don’t let her smoke in there, Ashley, for Christ’s sake.’
‘D’you want a milky coffee?’ Sophie asked. ‘We’ve got tons of milk. Mel keeps buying it. Every time she goes out. I think she’d get a cow if she could.’ Then she laughed. ‘She’s got three of ’em in there with her now.’
There was a bottle of whiskey on the counter, still more than half full. Sophie saw Ashley looking at it. ‘D’you want a drop in?’
‘Ta.’
‘I’m not having any. Not yet. We’re having a séance. That’s why they’re here,’ and she nodded towards the other room. ‘Jade’s bloke has given her a smack. Mel and Shaz want her to grass him. But she’s not sure. ’Cause she loves him. They don’t seem to understand that. She doesn’t want to get him into trouble. And he’d probably dump her. So she wants to ask her nan what to do. You can’t do a séance properly if you’ve been drinking. The spirits don’t like it. Not respectful.’
‘D’you believe all that?’
‘Course. Well, I think so. Mel does. There’s a bloke in Sheldon she goes to. Reads h
er palm. Every time she gets a new fella she goes. Gay he is. A lot of them are. Gays are good at that stuff. Sensitive.’
Ashley watched her making the coffee. She looked properly pregnant now. Funny. Really thin, but with a bump. Like a cartoon muscle.
Sophie poured whiskey into Ashley’s mug. ‘I want to see if we can reach Wesley? He might have a message for his mom. Or Karl.’ Ashley said nothing. Sophie brought her face to Ashley’s mug of coffee and sniffed. ‘Yesterday the smell of whiskey made me feel sick. It’s okay today. Weird. Have you seen Karl?’
‘He came round yesterday.’
‘Me and Tyr took some flowers round this afta. There’s a pile of them outside the house. You can’t see the wall. And there’s this big Union Jack. In the middle. Flowers all round it. Looks lovely. All the curtains are closed. Made me feel weird; curtains closed in the daytime. Like it was a crack house or something.’
‘Wake up.’
‘I’m awake.’
‘You don’t look it.’
‘I didn’t think we’d be going this early.’
Kieran grinned at the boy’s grumbling. Tired like this, and curled into his seat, he looked very small; very young. Keeping his eyes on the road, Kieran reached inside his workman’s jacket and pulled a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his shirt, dropping them in Ashley’s lap. Bensons. A lighter followed. ‘Here, have some breakfast.’
He noticed the boy’s right hand. Swollen fingers. ‘What you done to your hand?’
‘Tattoo.’
Keeping his right hand on the wheel Kieran used his left to bring the boy’s hand towards him. Ashley curled the fingers, making a fist.
‘Jesus! What a mess. They’ve gone blue.’
‘That’s the ink.’ Ashley pulled the hand away. ‘Sophie did it? She’s done lots.’
‘What she use? A fucking Stanley knife?’
Ashley said nothing.
‘What does it say anyway?’
‘Mom. M. O. M. One on each finger. And R. I. P. Underneath. Two letters on each finger. The middle one, O I, that stands for a Buddhist word. A prayer.’
‘And the last finger, M P, that stands for mad pratt. What you want to go and do that for, Ash? It’s stupid. If you wanted a tattoo you should have gone and had a proper one. I’d have taken you.’
‘She had a séance. Her and her mom. She told me they got in touch with my mom.’
Kieran looked at the boy. ‘Ash. You know that’s bollocks. She couldn’t —’
‘That’s what they said. Said they got in touch with her and she wanted me to have it done. To remember her.’
Kieran sighed. ‘But, Ash – You know—’
Ashley stopped him. ‘That’s what they said. So I did it. What else could I do?’
Kieran drove in silence for a while. He knew he should talk with the boy, help him accept what had happened; see that this was all nonsense. But this wasn’t the time or the place. ‘Just keep it as clean as you can,’ he said, ‘or we’ll be back up the ossie again, applying for a season ticket. Use TCP.’
It was just gone seven and still dark. The night’s rain had left a damp black sheen on the roads. Streetlights, headlights, glittered and danced. Kieran was dressed like a builder. A fluorescent work jacket, jeans, boots.
They passed the Spotted Hippo.
‘That’s where Crawford’s got his office isn’t it?’ Ashley asked.
‘One of them.’
At the top of Bromsgrove Street a large construction site was coming to life. Kieran pulled up among a number of cars and vans beside it. A bloke was guiding a van as it reversed out. Kieran reached into the back of the car for a couple of hard hats. ‘Here, stick this on.’
‘It’s too big.’
‘Shut it. Just get it on. We’re blending in.’ Kieran’s tone had changed. ‘And this too.’ He handed him a luminous jacket. ‘Right, this is where I’m going to drop you. When the time comes. On the day.’ This voice was hard. Brittle. More than just businesslike. There was a force behind the words. Like he was driving them into Ashley’s brain. ‘Get out and I’ll take you through it.’
They walked up Bromsgrove Street turning left into a short street of dilapidated buildings that lay behind the clubs. The darkness was disappearing rapidly, replaced by a grey-blue sky, the colour of some girls’ eyeshadow. The street was empty and the pad of their feet echoed a little. ‘Right, you come down to the corner, and then so long as no one’s around you nip up here.’ He indicated a narrow passage between two buildings. Ashley followed Kieran in. It was just wide enough for one person to get through.
‘Under here.’ They ducked under what was left of a wooden fence into a piece of land that might once have been a garden. Now it was rough and uneven scrub, enclosed by the backs of buildings. Old buildings. Boarded-up windows. Fire escapes. A few bottles and bin bags lying about. Ashley could make out a couple of blue plastic crates stuck in a bush, like they were part of it. ‘Once you’re here – you wait. Best to squat down I think,’ and Kieran went down on his haunches. Ashley did the same. ‘If anyone should see you from up there, it’ll look like you’re taking a crap. And once you’re here,’ Kieran was whispering close in to Ashley’s ear, ‘all you have to do is wait. Keep down. But no one ever comes in here. No point is there? So you just wait. And you stay. It might be ten minutes. It might be twenty. It might be a fucking hour. You wait. Rain. Snow. Fucking earthquake. You don’t move until Pricey arrives.’
Ashley listened. It was not just Kieran he could hear; the thump of his heart was making a louder noise.
‘When he does, give him your schoolbag. He’ll put something –’ Kieran stopped, looked at Ashley. ‘He’ll put the gun in it, give it you back and be off. You wait. Twenty minutes. Got it? I’ll give you a proper watch. Twenty minutes. Then up you get.’ Kieran rose. Like demonstrating. Ashley did the same. ‘And back we go to the street. But this way.’ He made for a bush ahead of them, pushed through it to an even narrower passage, that led into another street of derelict buildings, old offices it looked like. Essex Terrace the sign said. ‘Right, Ash, this is the way you go.’ They turned into Kent Street. ‘Keep going down this road. It’s the long route to the bus stop but it’s one with no CCTV.’ At the bottom they turned into Wrentham Street. ‘See what we’re doing here?’
‘Doubling back.’
‘You’ve got it.’ Kieran walked Ashley up to the Bristol Road, past St Catherine’s dome, over Pagoda Gardens and through St Jude’s Underpass to the bus stops on Hill Street. ‘When you get here you phone me. Okay?’ Ashley nodded. ‘You get off the bus at the ice rink and I’ll be in the car park waiting for you. Understand everything?’
‘Yeah.’
‘You sure? We can do it again if you like.’
‘I’m not stupid. I know what to do.’
‘You worried?’
‘No.’
‘Right we’ll go and have a cup of tea in the market and then you can walk me through it. Show me you know what you’re doing.’
‘I’m starving. Can’t we have a breakfast? A fry-up?’
As Kieran watched the boy wolf down a breakfast that would have satisfied any one of the navvies working round here, he explained to him the importance of his role. He went into no detail, just pointed out that he absolutely had to do exactly as he was told. If for any reason Pricey didn’t turn up, he just stayed there until Kieran called him. He was completely safe. No one ever went in there. Why would they?
22
Ashley looked at the kid in the mirror. He could do anything. Like posh kids can. Anything. And get away with it. He flicked his head – and the fringe flopped. Cool. He did it again. Then turned his head to look at himself side-on. He picked up his schoolbag, felt the weight of books, football boots. Five minutes, Kieran had said when he rang. Be fucking ready, he said. That was ten minutes ago. Easily ten minutes ago.
He dragged himself away from the mirror and went downstairs to wait. Kieran hadn’t said anything about mon
ey yet, except that he would be looked after – and Ashley hadn’t asked. But he wanted a good wad. This must be big, whatever it was. They wouldn’t be going to so much trouble if what he was doing wasn’t an important part of it. So. He wanted enough to get a good laptop, and some clothes. He hardly let himself think it – like the posh kid would wear.
He heard the front door go. Kieran grinned when he saw Ashley. ‘Fucking hell, Ash. You look like you can read and write. The glasses look good. Right brainbox. How you feeling?’
‘Okay.’
‘Ready for this?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Here.’ He handed Ashley a mobile. ‘Put this in your bag. You ring me on this. I’m keyed in.’ He sort of smiled. ‘And you don’t get to keep it afterwards.’ And in that attempt at a smile Ashley saw that Kieran was on edge, and he was pleased to realise that he himself wasn’t nervous at all, in fact he was excited, and looking forward to the job. It seemed more than just a couple of weeks ago that he had lain on the settee crying with fear at what he had let himself in for. Now he was different. If he did this well everything could change for him.
‘Come on then. Time to go.’
Ashley looked at the new watch Kieran had given him. It was two-thirty.
‘I’m parked-up down here,’ Kieran told him, ‘on the corner. The Megane; nothing too flash today.’
It was as they were crossing the road to the car that Geezbo turned the corner. Still in his shorts, he was wearing a zebra-patterned hoodie. He tossed his head so that the hood fell back, revealing his side-on baseball cap. He looked straight at Ashley. Ashley froze. Kieran looked from Ashley to the boy in the long baggy shorts. It took Geezbo a moment to convince himself that the boy before him was actually Ashley. He looked at Kieran. At the car. At Kieran again. ‘Fuck man! Whaz goin’ on? Wha’ you dressed up like thiz for, man?’
Ashley didn’t know what to say. ‘I’m going to school,’ was the best he could manage, and he knew how stupid it sounded before Geezbo came back with, ‘Two a clock in dee fuckin’ aftanoon? You gonna school? Time-keepin’ might not be your ting, man,’ he sneered, ‘but you ain’t goin’ to no school at two in dee aftanoon.’ All of Geezbo’s instincts were at work, and both Ashley and Kieran recognised this. He was almost sniffing the air, as if, like some sort of wild pig, he recognised that he had stumbled across something.