The Sting

by Kimberley Chambers

  Scratch squeezed Tommy’s hand as a sign of moral support. She then squeezed Dumbo’s hand, he was shaking like a leaf.

  Hearing the enemy approach, Tommy psyched himself up by thinking of Patch. ‘Where the fuck they gone?’ he heard Fat Brian ask.

  Tommy waited a few seconds, then leapt out. ‘Looking for me, are ya?’ he bellowed, punching Wayne hard in the back of the head.

  Stunned, Wayne turned around and threw a punch at Tommy. He missed, but Tommy didn’t. His fist connected with Wayne’s ugly mug and he fell backwards, landing on the grass.

  Seizing the opportunity, Tommy repeatedly booted Wayne as hard as he could in the side of his head.

  When Fat Brian and the other lads tried to pull Tommy away, Smiffy and Benny intervened. ‘This is between them two, not you. It’s a one-on-one,’ Smiffy hissed.

  ‘Yeah. None of your business. Leave ’em to it,’ Benny added.

  Wayne Bradley staggered to his feet and threw another wild punch. This time it did connect, but such adrenaline ran through Tommy, he barely felt it. ‘You no-good animal-torturing scumbag. This is for Patch,’ Tommy shrieked, raining blow after blow on Wayne’s putrid face.

  Scratch watched on in awe as Tommy literally smashed seven bells out of Wayne Bradley. She’d had no idea when he’d told her he wanted to be a pro boxer that he was this bloody good.

  Everybody was in a state of shock at the ferociousness of the attack – bar Dumbo, who was jumping up and down clapping his hands with glee.

  ‘Me teeth. Me fucking teeth,’ Wayne mumbled, blood pouring from his mouth.

  Tommy didn’t stop. He carried on punching until Wayne finally fell to the ground, motionless.

  Turning to Fat Brian, Tommy grabbed him by the throat and pushed him against the caravan. ‘Grass and I’ll beat you twice as hard,’ he warned. He glared at the other lad. ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘Darren. I think he’s dead. You’ve killed him,’ the lad said. He was the one visibly shaking now, not Dumbo.

  ‘Darren who?’

  The lad held his hands up. ‘Oliver. Darren Oliver. Look, I don’t want any trouble with you, Tommy. This was Wayne’s beef, not mine.’

  ‘Grass and you’re dead,’ Tommy spat.

  ‘I won’t grass. I swear I won’t,’ Darren promised.

  Smiffy, Benny and Dumbo all stood over Wayne, laughing. He’d made their lives at the home such a misery in the past; this was the best payback ever.

  ‘You’re fucking awesome!’ Scratch said, playfully punching Tommy on the arm. ‘But you’re covered in claret. What you gonna say to Ray and Connie?’

  Tommy was that fired up, his hands were trembling as he took the cigarette Dumbo offered him. ‘You’re a hero, Tommy. A true hero. I wish I was more like you,’ Dumbo gushed.

  Fat Brian crouched and tried helping Wayne to his feet. He was still dazed, had lost his two upper front teeth. ‘How am I gonna get him back to Maylands?’

  Tommy glanced down at his clothes and cursed himself for wearing his favourite white Adidas T-shirt and Levi jeans. Even though it was dark, he could see he was splashed in blood.

  ‘Shall we make a move?’ Smiffy suggested.

  Tommy paced up and down, furiously puffing on his fag. ‘Right, this is what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna get him outside Central Park, then one of yous run to the phone box and ring a cab. Or Ray? Ring Ray. He’s always said if anything bad were to happen, then we were to call him first.’

  ‘And what we gonna say when Ray turns up?’ Benny asked.

  ‘That Wayne got mugged by the gypsies and we all helped him out. Got that, Brian?’

  Fat Brian stared at his feet rather than look at Wayne, who was now standing up. He hung out with Wayne at Maylands, but knew he’d only been invited to the Town Show as Wayne’s other mates were on holiday. ‘Yeah. The gypsies did it,’ Brian mumbled.

  ‘Wayne wandered off with a girl. We searched for him and found him like this. Got that, all of ya?’ Tommy reiterated.

  Smiffy chuckled. ‘Yep. Ya gotta love the gypsies.’

  Ray was horrified when he arrived outside Central Park in his Morris Marina. ‘Whatever happened?’ he gasped.

  ‘In ya get, mate,’ Tommy said, putting an arm around Wayne’s waist.

  ‘Fuck off,’ Wayne whispered in Tommy’s ear.

  Tommy couldn’t help but smirk. He could still hear the music in the distance from the fairground. Van McCoy’s ‘The Hustle’ was playing. He would have to buy that next week, to remind him of this victorious moment.

  ‘Is it all right if I go now? I live at Dagenham East,’ Darren Oliver asked, shuffling from foot to foot.

  Tommy patted Darren on the back. ‘Yeah, you get off, mate. Thanks for your help.’

  Wayne got in the passenger’s side and Tommy urged Scratch, Smiffy and Benny to get in the back. ‘Me, Dumbo and Brian can walk back,’ Tommy told Ray.

  ‘OK. But come straight home,’ Ray insisted. ‘Connie will make you some sweet tea with plenty of sugar to help with the shock. I will drop the others off, then take Wayne to Casualty. He needs to be seen by a doctor.’

  Having unwound his window, Wayne shook his sore head. He felt sick, stupid, tired, and all he wanted was to go to bed. ‘I don’t need to go to the hospital, Ray. Just give me some painkillers and let me sleep it off.’

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t do that, Wayne. It’s against Maylands’ rules. You’ve been attacked. We need to get you checked over and report the incident to the police.’

  When Ray pulled away from the kerb, Wayne Bradley stared straight ahead. The schools had shut yesterday for the six-week summer holidays. That’s why his usual pals hadn’t been around today. Philip and Mark – the twins – had gone to their parents’ caravan in Clacton, and Tony had gone to Spain with his mum and dad.

  ‘You all right, Wayne? How you feeling, mate?’ Smiffy goaded, nudging Benny and Scratch.

  Already planning his revenge, Wayne took a deep breath. Tommy Boyle was no Joe Bugner; the only reason he’d won the fight was because he’d caught him unawares and that first lucky blow he’d landed had left Wayne stunned.

  As for Smiffy, Benny and Dumbo, they couldn’t fight their way out of a paper bag. Wayne had already decided to make their lives a misery as soon as he felt well enough. Especially Smiffy, after taking the piss like he had tonight. He was top of Wayne’s hit-list. Fat Brian and Darren Oliver were close seconds. What kind of so-called pals were they? Any true mate would have waded in and helped him.

  Sitting next to Smiffy, Scratch nudged him. ‘Are you still in pain, Wayne?’

  Wayne was no snitch. Besides, he was confident he’d get retribution somehow. ‘No. I’m fine now, thanks. I will hunt down who did this to me though, and get my own back. I always do.’

  ‘None of that silly talk, please, Wayne,’ Ray ordered. He and Connie were not a couple. But for different reasons, both were childless. They loved their job. The kids they cared for were their family.

  Scratch nudged Smiffy again. ‘Did you get a good look at the gypsy, Wayne?’

  Benny put his hand over his mouth to stop himself laughing.

  Wayne took another deep breath. That skinhead bitch was really irritating him now. He tilted Ray’s interior mirror and stared her in the eyes. She would pay big time for disrespecting him.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Tommy parted his hair on the left, then flattened the top with a blob of Brylcreem so it didn’t stick up. Long hair was all the rage at present. Smiffy and Dumbo had both grown theirs, but Tommy preferred his neat and tidy because of his boxing. It got in his eyes otherwise.

  Poking her head around the door, Scratch wolf-whistled. ‘Blimey! You look smart,’ she chuckled. ‘Never seen you go out in anything but jeans and trainers before. You excited?’

  ‘Very,’ Tommy grinned. His mum had always insisted he dress up for special occasions and today was most certainly one of those. He hadn’t seen his little sister Linda in over two and a half
years and he could not wait to see her again.

  Sitting on a corner table with a couple of the younger lads, Wayne Bradley planned and plotted as he ate his cornflakes. It was six days now since he’d taken a bloody good hiding and he was ready to rise from the ashes.

  When questioned by the police, all Wayne had said was he’d been led across the park by a girl, then jumped on from behind by three lads. ‘They didn’t have a Dagenham accent, but I can’t be sure they were gypsies. It all happened so fast, was dark. I haven’t a clue who they were,’ he’d lied.

  ‘Morning, Wayne. I called the dentist. Your new teeth will be arriving next Friday, so I booked you an appointment for the following Monday. That OK with you?’ Ray asked.

  ‘Yeah, thanks, Ray.’ Wayne smiled. He knew how to play the game, was extremely polite and well behaved whenever Ray and Connie were around. ‘It’s OK for me to go out today, isn’t it? My mates are all back from holiday now. I could really do with seeing ’em. It’ll cheer me up no end.’

  ‘Are you sure you feel up to it?’

  ‘Yeah. I feel fine now,’ Wayne replied.

  ‘OK. I know how stir-crazy you must be going stuck in here. No going anywhere near that fairground though, do you hear me?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I mean it, Wayne. Same goes for all the others. After what happened to you, the fair is off limits and if anybody disobeys that, they’ll lose every privilege they have for a whole month,’ Ray warned.

  Wayne nodded and glanced across the room. He knew Tommy was spending the day with his sister. He also knew that the three stooges – Smiffy, Dumbo and Benny – had arranged to go to the fair later. It was amazing what you could hear through the grapevine if you paid the younger kids ten pence to do a bit of earwigging. They’d do anything for a packet of sweets.

  Aware that he was the butt of yet another joke, Wayne averted his eyes instead of reacting. Those arseholes would pay for disrespecting him. He would make damn sure of it.

  Dressed in his beige Levi corduroy flares, a short-sleeve brown shirt and his Hush Puppy desert boots, Tommy paced up and down the pavement, puffing on a cigarette. He’d received another letter earlier this week from Linda asking if he was free on Friday. He’d called the number she’d asked him to, and spoken to Linda’s friend’s mum.

  Having been told to keep an eye out for a light brown Ford Zephyr, Tommy’s heart raced as one rounded the corner. Seconds later, his sister leapt out of the back and ran towards him. ‘Linda! You’ve got so big – I mean tall.’

  Linda looked up at Tommy. ‘Not as tall as you. But what are you doing smoking?’

  Tommy chuckled, dotted his fag out, then held Linda close to his chest. ‘I ain’t ’arf missed you, ya know.’

  Linda looked up at him, her eyes glistening with a mixture of tears and joy. ‘Not as much as I’ve missed you. It’s so good to see you again, Tommy.’

  The journey to Southend took around an hour. Tommy could remember his mum and Alexander bringing himself and his sisters here once, but they must have been young, as Linda had no recollection of it.

  Linda’s friend Alice seemed nice, as did her parents, Catherine and Roger. ‘We’ll go for a wander, Linda, so you can spend some time alone with your brother. Let’s meet back here in say two hours. That OK? And then we’ll all go for something to eat,’ suggested Catherine.

  ‘That’s fine and thank you so much again for arranging this. It truly means the world to me,’ Linda replied squeezing her brother’s hand.

  ‘Bye, Linda. Have fun,’ Alice waved.

  ‘So where does Nanny Noreen think you are?’ Tommy enquired, steering Linda towards the beach.

  ‘Here. Catherine told her she was taking Alice to Southend for the day and asked her if I could come too. I was surprised Nan said yes, if I’m honest. She’s ever so strict. But I’m thirteen next week, aren’t I? So Catherine told Nan it was a birthday treat.’

  ‘Thirteen, eh. What will you be doing on your actual birthday? Will Alexander and the old witch make a fuss of you?’

  Linda shrugged. ‘Dad’s away on the rigs and Nan’s breathing is bad now, so probably not. I’d rather spend time with Alice and her family anyway. It’s so much nicer in their house than ours. I keep all my books and magazines there. Nan nearly had a cardiac when I brought a copy of Pink magazine home. She flicked through it and said it was immoral and gave young girls bad ideas. I’m only allowed to read the Bible and Enid Blyton. Not allowed posters on my bedroom wall or a record player. Nan reckons pop stars and their lyrics send out the wrong signals. She is such a religious nutjob. And I hate the clothes she buys me, I’m not allowed to choose anything. I’ve put on too much weight to be able to fit into Alice’s. I’m just thankful I have to wear a uniform at the school I go to. That’s the only time I don’t feel different to the other girls.’

  Tommy had been shocked by Linda’s weight gain and drab appearance, but would never say so. He put a comforting arm around her shoulders. ‘It won’t always be like this, ya know. By the time you reach sixteen, I’ll be sorted with me own gaff and you can come and live with me. I’ll make sure you’ve got your own bedroom and you can have nice clothes, posters on the wall, and play records all day long. How does that grab ya?’

  Linda’s eyes shone. ‘I would love that, Tommy. I really would.’

  ‘As for your weight, don’t worry about it. It’s only puppy fat. You’ll lose that as you get older.’

  ‘I eat lots of sweets and crisps because I get so bored when I’m indoors, Tommy. I’m not even allowed to watch TV much. There’s sod all else to do but eat. So tell me everything. What’s the home like? And why did you leave Uncle Ian’s?’

  Knowing the question was bound to arise, Tommy had already thought of a plausible explanation. He told his sister Ian used to beat him and he’d contacted their old bobby for help.

  Linda squeezed her brother’s arm. ‘Oh, Tommy, that’s terrible. Did PC Kendall arrest Uncle Ian? I can’t believe he beat you up.’

  ‘Nah. But I wouldn’t have wanted to go to court anyway. Best thing I ever did was ring PC Kendall. I’m happy at Maylands, got some great pals there.’

  ‘Well, they must treat you well. You look ever so smart. Do they buy all the lads Levis?’

  ‘Nah. We’re given a clothes allowance, but me and the lads have got a little racket going where we earn a few bob on the side. Ray and Connie who run the home are ever so nice, but a bit dense. If they spot us wearing new clobber, we just say we got it from the local jumble sale,’ Tommy chuckled.

  ‘Make sure you don’t get yourself into any trouble, Tommy.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’m too wise for that. Fancy an ice-cream? You still addicted to screwballs?’

  ‘I prefer a ninety-nine now.’

  Tommy stood up. ‘Race ya to the ice-cream van.’

  ‘What’s the plan then?’ asked Philip and Mark Timms in unison. Identical fifteen-year-old twins with cruel eyes and sadistic tendencies, they often thought alike and spoke simultaneously.

  Having already explained what had happened last weekend, Wayne grinned like a Cheshire cat as he pulled the see-through bag from his pocket and waved it in the air. It contained LSD tabs. ‘We’re gonna catch one of ’em, ram these down the back of their throat. Then take ’em on the ride of a lifetime.’

  ‘What sort of ride?’ Tony Carrington enquired. He had a nasty streak himself, but felt the others took their little escapades a tad too far at times.

  Tapping the side of his nose, Wayne chuckled. ‘You’ll soon see.’

  ‘You’ve changed, Tommy,’ Linda announced.

  Tommy propped himself up on his elbow. ‘In what way?’

  ‘I don’t know how to explain it. You just seem different, I suppose. Your voice sounds deeper and instead of being chatty like you once was, you don’t say much. You’ve told me nothing about your life now, only that you got some racket going on. You haven’t even mentioned your friends. It’s me that’s been doing all the
talking. And you look different. More like a man than the brother I remember.’

  ‘I can’t help the fact I’ve grown up, Linda. Ask me some questions then. What do ya want to know?’

  ‘Have you got a girlfriend? You’re very handsome now. I bet you have to fight the girls off.’

  ‘I haven’t got a girlfriend as such, but I’ve got a good girl mate. She only moved to the home recently.’

  ‘Do you think you’ll end up asking her out?’

  ‘We do go out, but not like boyfriend and girlfriend. I’m only interested in making it as a pro boxer, Lin. I got plenty of time for girls once I’ve achieved my dream. What do you want to do when you leave school?’

  ‘I don’t know. I like typing, so I wouldn’t mind working in an office. If Nan had her way, I’d probably become a nun.’

  ‘I won’t let that happen, I promise,’ Tommy chuckled. ‘You still loved up with little Jimmy Osmond?’

  Linda screwed her nose up. ‘No. I’m a Bay City Rollers fan now. I love Les McKeown. “Bye Bye Baby” is my favourite song,’ Linda said dreamily. ‘What about you? You still into David Bowie?’

  ‘No.’ Tommy’s face clouded over.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Linda was getting worried now.

  Tommy smiled. ‘Nothing. I’m just into other kinds of music these days. I like Ska and Soul.’

  Linda’s expression suddenly turned serious. ‘I know we’re only half-brother and -sister. Nan told me. Have you ever tried to find out who your real dad is?’

  Wanting to wipe the short meeting with his real father from his memory, Tommy shook his head. ‘Perhaps when I’m older. Whoever he is, he’s never bothered looking for me.’

  ‘Well Nan reckon’s my real dad was the bloody window cleaner now.’

  Aware that his sister was on the verge of tears, Tommy put both arms around her and held her close to his chest. His mum’s pal had actually told him that day in the Wimpy that his mother had also had an affair with their window cleaner Robin around the time Linda was conceived and Alexander had doubts she was his. ‘That’s why Hazel has always been Alexander’s favourite. She’s a ringer for him and the only one he’s positive is his child,’ Lisa had explained.