Heroic

by Phil Earle

  ‘Yeah, yeah, all right,’ I blushed, risking a glance at Cam, who fortunately was laughing too. She was used to the banter. ‘I haven’t seen her in months.’

  ‘Dump you, did she?’ Wiggy found himself way too funny.

  ‘All right, wind it in.’ Hitch was raging again. He didn’t look himself; sweat lined his face no matter how often he rubbed it away. ‘What did you need the money for if it wasn’t this Jaws bird?’

  I puffed my cheeks out, couldn’t say they were for flowers for the parade. All right, they might have understood, but somehow I couldn’t find the words to tell them. Turns out I didn’t need to worry, as Cam dug me out.

  ‘I asked him for the money.’ She said it with such conviction that she even had me believing her.

  ‘But you look nothing like that bird from Holtby,’ Wiggy deadpanned. ‘You couldn’t bite my leg off like her, could you?’ He paused a second. ‘Could you?’

  ‘Keep talking like that and I’ll take your head clean off,’ Cam replied, before turning to the others. ‘I needed the cash. Dad’s been drinking more than he can pay for. I had a visit from a friend of his, had to sort it out before he took it out on Mum, or me. Sonny said he’d help me out.’

  ‘And it’s sorted, is it?’ Hitch was bristling.

  ‘Completely. And Dad’ll be face down in a bottle for a good while.’ She said it without hesitation. She was some player. Braver than me, too.

  ‘So is there anything you can do to help, lads?’ I felt bad even asking, but I didn’t fancy bungee-jumping without a cord.

  ‘If you mean have we got any cash left, forget it.’ Den sighed. ‘Mine’s dust already.’

  ‘Smoked mine,’ added Wiggs, flicking his cig upwards between his lips.

  Hitch looked shifty and rammed some gum into his mouth. A man of few words as ever.

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ interrupted Cam, still playing the guilty party. ‘Me and Sonny can sort it out.’

  I could’ve kissed her. It took all my determination to stay at the other end of the settee.

  ‘No need for that,’ growled Den, slapping my shoulder way too hard, the tremors jangling every rib in my chest. ‘Between us we can get it together. How much?’

  ‘Five hundred,’ I replied, waiting for the backlash.

  ‘Keys to the bank come through, then? What are you, some kind of moron?’ asked Wiggy.

  ‘You got any ideas?’ Hitch asked him irritably. ‘For once?’

  Wiggs opened his mouth but nothing came out. Hitch waved his hand at him, goading him to even try and continue.

  ‘No, thought not. So shut it, will you?’

  Den stepped in between them, backing Wiggs away. Just as well. The mood Hitch was in he could’ve crushed him with one hand.

  Maybe having Den there took the pressure off, as Wiggy suddenly piped back up.

  ‘We could pull a scam again. Turn another van over.’

  Den didn’t like it.

  ‘You reckon? It’s not even two weeks since last time and we’ve been lucky they haven’t picked us up for that.’

  Wiggy deflated in front of us as he rubbed at his shaved head and remembered what our first attempt had cost him.

  I liked it though. It had balls about it.

  ‘Think about it. It’s the last thing they’re going to expect.’

  ‘You reckon?’ Den was no coward, but he definitely wasn’t up for a second go. ‘For all we know they could’ve started carrying baseball bats in the van just in case.’

  ‘So we just let Sonny take a kicking, do we?’ spat Hitch. ‘Nice.’

  ‘What is it with you?’ asked Den. ‘I’m not saying that …’

  ‘Well, what are you saying?’

  The gap between them shrank.

  ‘I’m saying you should back off. Don’t barge in here when we haven’t seen you in weeks and start telling us how things are. Where were you before all this went down?’

  But we never found out, despite all wanting to know who’d carried out Hitch’s personality transplant. I didn’t like this new one with all the bile and aggro.

  As they began to circle each other, stepping over a line none of us had crossed before, the door blew open and there was Mum, wearing a scowl as big as theirs.

  ‘Everything all right?’

  Fists dropped instantly, though Hitch’s entire body remained riddled with menace. Sensing she’d cut the tension, Mum turned her attention to Wiggs, who tried to look all coy and innocent.

  ‘Last time I caught you smoking in here, you promised me a new settee. So where is it? Delivery men better be humping it up the stairs right this second.’

  ‘Out of stock.’ He blushed. Mum was the only person I knew who could leave him practically mute. ‘Next week, I promise, Mrs M.’ He headed to the kitchen to dot out his smoke.

  Happy that the first trouble-causer was back in his box, she winked at Dennis, stroked the back of Cam’s head and smiled reservedly at Hitch. I don’t think she’d ever worked him out either.

  It was only when she clocked the state of my chest that her expression changed.

  ‘Sonny?’ she yelped, like I’d lost a leg or something. ‘I think it’s time you lads went.’

  And they did, filing out without a whimper, Wiggy daring to plant a kiss on her cheek. ‘Later, Auntie Shell.’

  Cam didn’t shift at first, only leaving after blowing me a sly kiss when Mum shooed her out.

  After the front door closed the room was silent. For once, you couldn’t even hear the neighbours having a beery row.

  I braced myself. Wasn’t in the mood for the sort of fuss I knew was coming.

  ‘You’re going to need more ice. And painkillers. So don’t think about moving until I get back.’ Mum grabbed her purse and headed for the door, blowing through it quicker than a tornado.

  She wouldn’t be long. Not at that pace. I closed my eyes and made a pathetic attempt to sleep, my ribs making me anything but drowsy.

  Mind you, it wouldn’t be a patch on the pain in my ears once Mum got back. She’d make sure of that. Over the years I’d given her plenty of practice.

  Sonny

  Mum knew me. Or thought she did. She didn’t have a clue who’d busted my ribs up, but there was no doubt in her head that she would find out.

  What surprised me was that she waited so long before asking.

  After strapping an iceberg to my chest and funnelling half the chemist’s down my throat, she eased me into bed, adding, ‘Don’t be expecting miracles. It’ll feel worse in the morning.’

  I didn’t know if she was on about my ribs, or the interrogation that lay ahead. I had a feeling that bruising was the last thing I should be worrying about.

  My night’s sleep was littered with dreams. Predictably, I was always falling, but it was never me who hit the ground. When they rolled the body over it was always Jammy, dressed in full combat kit, helmet in pieces.

  It gave me the fear. Where was he right now? Was he sleeping, or patrolling god knows where? The bombs on the news flashed unhelpfully into my head. Was he even still alive or was this some kind of mad premonition? It wasn’t like I believed in that stuff, but with the pain and the stupid hour, I couldn’t dismiss it like I normally would.

  It’s not often I don’t have an answer. It’s my greatest asset as well as the thing that gets me in trouble. But right then, I had nothing. No answer to Jamm’s whereabouts, Mum’s mood or how to drum up the money to pay for my mistake. It scared me. Scared and shocked me so much that I felt a tear slide from my eye, barely stopping before the second, third and fourth caught it up.

  Tears don’t come often; they can’t when you’re constantly moving from one moment to the next, sniffing out the next opportunity. I remember Mum’s expression as we waved goodbye to Jamm, the look of shock in my direction as I toughed it out, stony-faced. She hadn’t spoken to me for the rest of the day, though I knew there were a hundred things she wanted to say.

  It was a look I couldn’t forge
t. It branded me more permanently than any tattoo ever could.

  If I could’ve moved without screaming, I’d have gone into Mum’s room right then, to show her I wasn’t made of stone like she thought I was.

  I didn’t, of course. Instead I lay there, shoulders shaking, fighting every demon that strode into my head, whether they’d travelled from Afghanistan or closer to home.

  I won’t lie and tell you I didn’t sleep. Somewhere between my darkest nightmare and dawn I finally went under, a handful of hours that hugged and rocked me. The next hands to make contact weren’t quite as mellow. I’d know Mum’s fingers anywhere, every inch was covered in rough skin, evidence of all her waking hours spent scouring, scrubbing or sorting.

  When I was younger, I used to look at her and wonder why none of the men who occasionally appeared ever stuck around. The other lads reckoned she was a looker and, although I couldn’t compute that, I had to accept it as truth. Like the naive kid that I was, I put her singledom down to the state of her fingers. All I could think was, Why would anyone choose to hold hands when hers are so rough? Stupid I know, but I was a kid.

  I wasn’t disappointed she was single. None of the blokes I met awkwardly over their bowls of Frosties – they always took the last from the packet before I had chance – had anything going for them, just an empty wallet, a taste for sugary cereal and a love of booze. I’d seen enough of that at Cam’s house to not want it for us too.

  There was no sign of sympathy for my difficult night as Mum pulled me from my bed, frog-marched me to the shower, then waited outside the door for me to come out. She really did know me. That would’ve been my moment to sneak out.

  After a breakfast of no substance but surprisingly little nagging, Mum strapped more ice to my chest and practically held me by the ear until we reached the front door.

  ‘Leave my side and I will hunt you down,’ she said without a trace of sarcasm. She meant it, which meant I was glued to her.

  We waited a lifetime for the lift as usual, but once inside, instead of taking us to the ground, she sent us trundling into the clouds.

  It wasn’t until we reached the top floor and stepped out into the light that I realized just how early it was. The sun was only just showing itself above Pickard House.

  ‘What time is it?’ I asked, lifting Dad’s watch to my face, ignoring Mum’s grimace at the sight of it. ‘Five o’clock? Are you mental?’

  In one second she’d reduced my already short sleep to a blink.

  ‘Just because you haven’t seen this time in your life, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.’

  If she was trying to be deep it didn’t suit her. Didn’t soften the blow either.

  ‘This your breakfast spot, is it? 360-degree views of the Ghost? Nice.’

  She didn’t look cross, or frustrated at my comment. I’d imagine it was exactly the answer she expected. It summed up where our relationship was, and had been for as long as I could remember.

  ‘I don’t know.’ She sighed. ‘It’s not all bad.’

  ‘It’d look a lot better if they blew it up.’

  I suppose I was provoking her, wanted her to get to the point and put me out of my misery.

  ‘Knowing you, you’d end up at the bottom of all the rubble. I mean, look at the state of you!’

  ‘Take more than a stick of dynamite to stop me.’

  ‘Of course it would. That’s why you’re in such good shape now. Honestly, Sonny, how many times is this going to happen? How long till I find you in hospital instead of laid out on the settee?’

  ‘Don’t over-react, Mum. It’s not so bad. I’ve had worse.’

  ‘Oh, I know you have. Like the time you had a fight with that daft dog.’

  ‘It was a pit bull! Thing should’ve been muzzled, never mind on a lead. And it wasn’t like I started it.’

  ‘That’s just it. You never start anything, do you? According to you, there’s not been one incident when you weren’t standing up for yourself or doing the right thing.’ She sighed and straightened a grip in her hair. ‘The thing is, son, it’s getting worse all this, not better. Ever since Jamm’s not here to keep an eye, all you do is wade further and further out of your depth.’

  ‘I can look after myself.’ Irritation fizzed in my head. Everything came down to Jamm with her. Like he was the boss of me, like he had Superman’s cape hidden beneath his clothes. ‘And anyway, why do you have to bring him up every time you give me a lecture?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘You know who! Jammy.’

  ‘Your brother’s got nothing to do with this.’

  ‘He’s got everything to do with it and you know it. It’s always been about him. You’ve never given me a chance to get close to his standards. Well, maybe you should think about that. It might explain why we’re stood here after all.’

  ‘No one expects you to be the same, Sonny. Certainly not me. The only one imagining any kind of competition is you. All I want is for you both to be happy. And safe.’

  ‘But he isn’t, is he? Either of those things. So why is he over there? Why risk everything when all the bombs and the fighting has got nothing to do with him?’

  ‘He did what he thought was right. The army offered him a wage when nobody else would and we needed it. We can’t go on like this forever.’

  I should’ve backed off when I saw the pain on her face. She had nothing to feel guilty about. She’d fed me every day for the last sixteen years.

  But, as usual, all I could see was the gulf between me and Jamm widening.

  ‘If money’s that tight then you need to tell me. I can do my bit too, you know, I’m not completely useless.’

  ‘No one’s saying you are.’

  ‘So I’ll get a job. I’ll talk to the factory. Get some shifts.’

  ‘But what about long-term, Sonny? I was hoping you might go back to school. Give it another go?’

  The conversation was going the wrong way and I couldn’t hide how I felt about it. ‘Forget it, that’s not going to happen.’

  ‘Why not? You’re so bright, but you need your exa …’

  ‘What, so some guy can look at a string of Cs in useless subjects? Who’s going to give me a job in an office? One look at my address and that’s it. Game over.’

  ‘You think people can’t see past where you live? They don’t care about that. They care about what you can give them.’

  I tried to walk away, waving my arms in frustration.

  ‘This is pointless. You only ever see it your way, so why are we even doing this?’

  She took me by the arm and led me to the edge of the roof. ‘Because I want you to see the same as me for once. To realize that there’s something out there apart from this estate.’

  Her argument was as tired as I was, but it didn’t put her off.

  ‘Your head is so full of scams to get by every day, that you can’t see it doesn’t have to be like this.’ She grabbed my face, which was doing its best full-on sulk. ‘Look out there, Sonny. LOOK! There’s so much more. For you and Jammy. You don’t have to stay here like the rest of them, or like me, so think about that. Think about what you’re worth!’

  All right, there were buildings beyond the boundaries of the Ghost. Loads of them, most of them more attractive, better kept. But they didn’t mean anything to me. I’d seen some of them up close once on a field trip, but had been sent home early for nicking packed lunches off the other kids. And off the driver. So what? I was hungry.

  But this is what Mum didn’t get. What was out there for us, really? Me or Jamm? We didn’t know their rules, but here we did. I told her as much.

  ‘You know what? That’s the only difference between you and your brother. He’d see out there as a challenge. If he got it into his head that he wanted to leave, he wouldn’t stop until he filled up a van with everything he owned. And if it scared him? Then even better. He’d take it on, and he’d take us with him.’

  I swore. Turned the air blue with how lucky we were to have J
amm in our lives. But I didn’t mean it, not really. I was just stinging at how far short I kept coming up, and strangely Mum looked just as raw as me. Lines creased her eyes as they filled up with tears.

  ‘You can do it if you want to.’ I heard the words clearly despite the emotion in her voice.

  ‘I can’t be like him, Mum. I can’t do it.’

  ‘I don’t want you to.’ She took my cheeks in her cracked hands. ‘All I want is for you to look out there and think about it. You can do that, can’t you?’

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ I murmured, the words sounding emptier than I meant them to.

  ‘Make sure you do.’ She sighed, taking one last look at the view. ‘Because the next time you’re in a hole, we might not be able to dig you out quickly enough. Me or your brother.’

  She picked up her bag and walked off, looking a decade older than her thirty-six years.

  I turned back to her view, trying to see what she did. If there was hope out there, then I had to find it quickly. I had four days to make five hundred quid, so unless the trees beyond the estate had twenty-pound notes growing on them, I was going to have to look a lot closer to home. It wouldn’t please Mum, but she didn’t have to know. Not this time, this last final time.

  Jammy

  I was standing on the edge of something. Glory or a stretcher: it could go either way and there was nothing I could do to influence it. We weren’t on the PlayStation any more, couldn’t hit pause when we wanted to draw breath. We just had to trust the boss and look out for each other as well as ourselves.

  The other group peeled away. I kept Tommo in front of me where I could see him. He was sweating heavily but his pace was fine. We hit the stairs in a cluster, gun barrels fanning out to cover every wall, every inch that opened up as we climbed.

  I listened for updates but nothing came. All I could hear was the blood pumping in my ears, keeping me on hyper-alert. I felt strangely invincible: nothing could touch me, bullets would crumple and hit the floor instead of entering my body. The four of us were some mad new cross-breed put together in a lab. As long as we stuck together, we’d find the drugs. There was no other outcome possible.