Leading her into the lounge, Steve sat her on the sofa and headed back into the kitchen to open a bottle of wine. Debs could be the biggest bitch in the world sometimes, but he loved her dearly and always would. If she left him tomorrow, he’d never look at another woman, he’d swear to that. He handed her a glass of Chardonnay, put his own on the table and took her free hand in his.
‘You’ve gotta stop bottling things up, Debs. You’ll end up having a breakdown if you don’t.’
Debbie looked at him and smiled through her tears. ‘I know you’re right, but please, let’s not talk about it tonight. I can’t face it, Steve. I’ve no more fight left in me body, I can’t deal with it right now.’
Putting his big arm around her, Steve held her close. ‘I won’t make you talk about anything but me, you and the girls. How does that suit ya? Now ring your mum and ask her if she can look after Gracie and Rosie for a few days. It’ll give us a bit of time on our own.’
Debbie handed the phone to him. ‘You ring her, Steve. I haven’t spoken to her since we came back from Centerparcs. You’ll have to ask.’
Understanding her embarrassment, Steve made the all-important call. ‘Sorted,’ he said as he laid the phone on the sofa next to him.
‘Did she say anything about me?’ Debs asked anxiously.
‘No,’ Steve lied as he jumped up to put a CD on. Dimming the lights, he sat back down and snuggled up to his wife. They needed time alone, to try and repair the damage Charlie had caused in their relationship. Steve was determined to get things back on track.
Mickey rubbed Lois’s back for what seemed liked the tenth time since he’d returned home. She’d been that ill, they’d brought a bucket into the lounge to save her from frequent trips to the toilet. She couldn’t stop being sick, but seeing as she was unable to eat, had nothing to bring up but bile.
‘Shhh. Stop crying, angel. Come on, Daddy’s here now. Everything will be fine, trust me. I’ll sort everything out and you’ll be okay, I promise you.’
Wiping her mouth with a tissue, Lois turned to the man she’d grown to adore and forced herself to smile.
‘I love you, Daddy.’
As he looked into his daughter’s tearful eyes, Mickey felt his heart break in two. The poor little mite was suffering beyond belief. He would not rest until he got revenge for her. As he stroked her hair, he mused on whether or not to burn Charlie alive. He could quite easily set him alight and watch him go up in smoke. Telling Karen to swap places on the sofa with him, he headed to his shed to search for paraffin. He found some, took the cans round to the alleyway and, for the first time that day, allowed himself to smile.
A cremation was exactly what Charlie deserved, and Mickey was determined that was exactly what he was gonna fucking get.
Steve uncorked the third bottle of wine and danced back into the living room, doing an impression of Barry White singing ‘My First, My Last, My Everything’.
‘Sit down, you silly bastard,’ she said, smiling at his antics. She’d enjoyed tonight even though she felt sad and empty after the shock of yesterday. In her heart, she knew it was time to let Charlie go and concentrate on the girls and her marriage instead.
‘Thanks for tonight, Steve,’ she said, her eyes almost closed with tiredness.
‘You’ve welcome, babe. We should do it more often, eh?’
Receiving no answer, he realised she’d fallen asleep in his arms. Moving his left arm from behind her, he gently laid her head on his lap. As he noticed her handbag next to the sofa, he fleetingly remembered Mickey’s request, sighed, and erased the thought from his mind. He couldn’t do it. There was no way he’d be able to search through his wife’s bag without her permission. It didn’t belong in his rule book and as much as he wanted to help Mickey, there was no way he was going to ruin his marriage in the process.
Steve sat there for ages, deciding what to do for the best. As he watched Debs lying across his legs, he took in her pretty features and her gentle snores. His decision was made there and then. He just couldn’t betray her. If Mickey wanted to dispose of Charlie, he’d have to do it alone.
Steve hated his stepson more than life itself, but not enough to kill him. How the hell could he ever face Debs again if he’d contributed to the demise of her only son? He’d break his decision to Mickey in the morning. He would still go with him and look for the kid, but once they found him, that was it, Steve was bowing out. What happened from then on was Mickey’s call.
Looking down at Debs, Steve smiled to himself. He’d married her for better or for worse and he wasn’t about to break his vows. Not now, not ever.
THIRTY-NINE
UNABLE TO SLEEP well, Mickey rose early the next morning and by seven o’clock was raring to go. He realised it was far too early for Steve to be out of his pit so spent the next couple of hours pottering about downstairs, desperate to keep himself busy. Hearing footsteps on the stairs, he was surprised to see Lois standing at the kitchen door rather than Karen.
‘Hello, angel, you’re up early. How do you feel today?’
She flashed him a fragile smile. ‘I’m a bit better, thanks, Dad. I feel hungry. Will you cook me some breakfast?’
‘That’s my girl,’ Mickey said as he hugged her tight. Now, what shall I rustle you up? Beans on toast … omelette … or how about a full English?’
‘Beans and cheese on toast, please, Dad.’
Mickey winked at her. She had a bit of colour back in her cheeks and he was relieved to see her looking brighter.
‘It’ll be ready in five, my little darling. Now, pop upstairs and ask Mummy what she wants.’
Half an hour later, with the breakfast plates cleared, Lois excused herself from the table and headed back to the privacy of her bedroom. She hadn’t eaten since before the attack and breakfast had made her feel sick and lethargic.
‘I was thinking, Mick. We should go and pick Alfie up today. I miss him and it’s not fair on June to leave him there any longer. Shall I give her a call?’ Karen suggested.
The piercing ring of his phone stopped Mickey from answering his wife’s question. ‘Hello,’ he said, recognising the number of his daughter’s boyfriend.
‘I’ve got the address for you,’ Dean told him excitedly.
‘Fire away, kid.’
Steve was in the middle of making love to Debbie, for the first time in weeks, when his ‘I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles’ ring tone spoiled their intimacy.
‘I’m sorry, babe,’ he said, reaching across to the bedside cabinet to turn the bastard thing off.
‘Answer it, Steve,’ she said, looking at the clock. ‘I’ve got to pop out anyway, then I’m gonna sort the girls out and that.’
‘Bollocks,’ he muttered as he felt his hard-on deflate.
Mickey’s dulcet tones telling him he’d got the address made Steve feel nothing but guilt. All of this was bollocks, he’d be glad when he was out of it. How could he be making love to his wife one minute then plotting the downfall of her only son the next? Thoroughly pissed off, he lay back on the bed for a minute.
‘I’ll see you later, Steve,’ Debbie shouted to him.
‘Where you going?’ he yelled.
She hadn’t been up ten minutes and had only just got out of the shower. Surely she hadn’t gone out already.
Not getting an answer, he ran down the stairs in his birthday suit. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck,’ he muttered as he peered out of the front door, just in time to see the back of her X5 disappear down the drive. Stomping back upstairs with the hump of all humps, he quickly got dressed, grabbed his keys and shot off to pick up Mickey.
* * *
After a quick stop at the bank, Debbie drove straight to Barking and pulled up outside the tower block. It’s now or never, she thought as she glanced at her reflection in the mirror to see if she looked as bad as she felt. Checking that Charlie’s sports bag was well hidden in the back, she took a quick look round to check that there were no thieves or druggies lurking nearby. Then, taking a
deep breath, she strolled into the tower block, to rescue her beloved boy.
‘Not left, you thick cunt. Right! Turn right.’
Steve sighed as he amended his mistake. His day was going from bad to worse and Mickey had been in a proper foul mood since he’d told him of his decision.
‘How long have we been pals? I can’t believe you, you cunt,’ his friend had shouted at him.
‘But Debs is my wife, Mick, I just can’t do it. I’ll come round to this Kevin’s with you and help you find him, but then you’re on your own.’
‘Just fucking drive then, Judas!’
The rest of the journey to Harold Hill had taken place in silence, apart from Mickey’s bad-tempered directions.
‘Stop here. This is it, number twenty-four.’
Steve parked the motor and turned the engine off. Mickey ran up the path and within seconds had nearly broken the front door down.
‘Wh-What h-have I done?’ asked a petrified Kevin as he was lifted up by his scruffy T-shirt and slammed against the filthy wall in the hallway.
‘Where can I find your perverted cunt of a friend?’ Mickey screeched.
‘It’s n-nothing to do with me. I’ve told his mum everything I know.’ Kevin could barely speak, he was shaking so much. His nan had popped round to the Co-op and when he’d heard the ferocious banging on the door, he’d flung it open, thinking she’d had a fall or been in an accident. Trying to get his words out when he was nervous wasn’t easy for him, but somehow he managed to tell Mickey that Charlie had been seeing his dad and was probably at a tower block in Barking.
‘If you’re lying to me, I’m gonna fucking kill ya,’ Mickey said as he dropped the fat kid back on his feet.
Mickey ran back to the motor and leaped in. ‘Andy’s flat, on the Gascoigne Estate, and put your fucking foot down,’ he barked at Steve. ‘Oh, and by the way, it looks like your darling wife has beaten us to it.’
Steve had had enough by now. He was sick of being Mr Nice Guy. ‘Whaddya mean, my darling wife? Don’t take this out on me, Mick. She’s your fucking sister, you cunt! You was the one that introduced us in the first place, so don’t take all your shit out on me. Save it for some other mug.’
‘Sorry,’ Mickey said sheepishly. ‘But if you’d have seen the state of my Lois yesterday, you’d know how I feel. Imagine if it were one of your two girls.’
‘I know what you’re saying, Mick, but you can’t take it out on other people. Charlie’s the one to blame for all this, no one else. Now, do you remember what number Andy lives at, ’cause I fucking don’t.’
‘Not offhand,’ Mickey replied, trying to rack his brains. ‘But, believe me, I’ll find him. Even if I have to knock on every door in the entire block to find the cunt, I will do it.’
Steve glanced at his pal. He’d never seen him as angry as this before. He wouldn’t like to be in Charlie’s shoes when Mickey managed to get his hands on him, that was for sure.
‘Now hurry up, Charlie. I’ll meet you downstairs at the car,’ Debbie said, desperate to get away from Billy who had spent the last five minutes trying to make polite conversation with her.
Once in the car, she was relieved to find all Charlie’s belongings still intact. She started the engine, praying for her son to hurry up. She was desperate to get him out of the area and out of harm’s way. She knew her brother better than anyone, knew that he was quite capable of finding her son and wiping him off the face of the earth, without so much as a second thought.
Breathing a sigh of relief as Charlie and Billy ran towards her, she ordered her son to sit next to her in the front.
‘I’ll drive you to the station, then I want you to promise me you’ll get the first available train to Glasgow.’
Charlie smiled. He was so excited about moving up North with his dad, he could barely believe his luck.
‘There’s a thousand pounds in here,’ she said, handing him a white envelope. ‘Now, what I’m gonna do, Charlie, is open up a new account at a different bank. Steve won’t know about it, no one will. When you get to Scotland, all you have to do is open up a savings account, and that way I can send you money on a regular basis.’
‘No problem, Mum,’ he said. What a touch! She’d keep them in beer, fags and drugs. Result, he thought as he turned and grinned at his dad.
Mickey struck gold within five minutes. The third person he asked about Andy happened to be a heroin addict, dying for a fix. Snatching the twenty quid from Mickey’s hand, the junkie gladly pointed him to the door of Andy’s flat. Receiving no reply to his frantic knocking, Mickey kicked it down within seconds.
‘Fuck,’ he said, as he realised the place was empty.
‘You check out the bedroom, Steve, see if they’ve been here. I’ll case the rest of it.’
‘Any joy?’ Mickey shouted, minutes later.
The place was a tip, a shit-hole. Andy obviously spent the bulk of his life purchasing drugs rather than belongings.
‘Fuck all in here,’ Steve said, closing the door that hung ajar on the wardrobe. Just as he was about to leave the room, he clocked something bright blue sticking out from under the bed. He took one look at the Glasgow Rangers shirt and knew that Billy and Charlie had been there. Wishing it had been Mickey and not he who had found the bastard thing, he stood rooted to the spot, wondering what to do for the best.
Images of Debbie came into his mind. Her laughter, her temper, the lovely evening they’d enjoyed the previous night, their unfinished love-making this morning. Choosing his heart over his head, Steve opened the bedroom window and flung the Glasgow Rangers shirt out into the murky Barking air.
‘Any luck?’ Mickey asked seconds later as he stomped into the room to double-check Steve’s search.
‘Nothing in here, mate,’ Steve lied, wondering if the guilt he was feeling was showing on his face.
Andy strolled along happily swinging his tenner’s worth of Stella in a carrier bag. Billy had left him fifty quid as a thank you for putting him and Charlie up, and Andy had wasted little time in spending it. As Andy was permanently skint, purchasing crack, puff and a crate of lager all in one go was a fucking luxury to him. Having spent his money wisely, he couldn’t wait to get home, stick on a bit of Hendrix, and get well and truly shit-faced.
‘Oi, Andy!’ little Terry Jackson called out. ‘Don’t go to your flat,’ he said, pointing towards the tower block. ‘There’s two big geezers up there and they’ve booted your door in.’
‘What did they look like?’ asked a panic-stricken Andy.
‘Dunno if they’re old bill, but one’s a big skinhead geezer and the other one’s tall with dark hair.’
Dropping his beers so that he could run faster, Andy turned around and literally fled for his life.
At King’s Cross, Debbie couldn’t bear to let her son walk off without seeing him safely on to the train. ‘I want a bit of time alone with him,’ she said to Billy, urging him to make himself scarce. Billy took the hint and went off to purchase his sidekick and himself some booze for the journey.
Sitting down on a bench next to Charlie, Debbie held his clammy hand.
‘Mum! There’s people looking,’ Charlie said, snatching it away. He felt totally embarrassed by her behaviour and open tearfulness. ‘Why don’t you go?’ he said callously, as he looked around for his dad.
‘Don’t be like that, love. I am your mum. I just wanna say goodbye and make sure you get on the train all right.’
‘I said I’d get on the train, didn’t I? I ain’t gonna leg it, am I?’
‘Don’t be nasty to me, Charlie. I love you more than anything and I’ve always been there for you. Don’t be like this to me.’
‘Sorry,’ Charlie said. She was cramping his style now. He couldn’t wait to get rid of her.
Hurt by his uncaring attitude, Debbie stood up. ‘As soon as your dad gets back, go and sit in the carriage. The train’s just pulled in and they’re letting people go through.’
‘Okay,’ he replied, wish
ing his dad would bloody well hurry up.
‘Now don’t forget, Charlie, as soon as you get there, buy a mobile phone. I need you to keep in touch with me regularly and let me know how you’re doing. If you’re unhappy at all, or your dad’s not looking after you properly, I’ll come and get you, love. Things are bound to die down with Mickey in time, and you know you’ve always got a home with me.’
‘Thanks,’ Charlie said ungratefully.
His dad was walking towards them so he stood up. ‘I’d better go, Mum.’
As Debbie put her arms around him, she felt empty and betrayed by his obvious lack of emotion. He seemed to feel nothing for her at all.
‘’Bye, Charlie. Take care, son,’ she murmured.
‘See ya, Debs,’ Billy said awkwardly.
‘Take care of him for me,’ Debbie pleaded, tears streaming down her face.
Feeling momentarily sorry for his ex, Billy patted her on the arm. ‘’Course I’ll look after him. Don’t worry, he’ll be fine with me.’
Debbie wept as she watched them get into their carriage and then, as the train pulled away, sobbed her heart out. Not knowing when she was going to see her beloved boy again was pure hell, but at least this way he was still alive. Packing him off with Billy was the last thing she had wanted to do, but it was better than seeing him cold on a mortuary slab.
Debbie headed back to the car park, started the engine and switched on her mobile. She’d kept it off all day, in case Steve rang her. She’d enjoyed last night and couldn’t face lying to him. Dialling her answer-phone, the only voice that she expected to hear was his. The tearful messages from her mother she hadn’t expected.
Debbie pressed Call-back. ‘Come on, Mum,’ she muttered, annoyed to hear the engaged signal. Heading for home, she kept on pressing redial. ‘Whatever’s wrong?’ she asked when June finally answered.
‘Oh, Debs,’ her mother sobbed. ‘I don’t know how to say this, love, but … it’s Gracie.’
‘What’s the matter? Has she had an accident?’ Debbie asked frantically.
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