Fighting Chance

by Shaun Baines

  "If you want to learn to be a gangster, this is the first lesson." Bronson swatted at the flies, missing every one. "It's not as glamorous as you might think."

  Sprout hooked his t-shirt over his mouth. "Can we get this over and done with? You might like spending your free time here, but I'm going to be a player."

  Dropping his hands, Bronson whipped his head around to stare at Sprout. "What are you talking about?"

  "No…I…" Sprout's shoulders sank. "It's just we come here a lot and you make me wait in the car."

  "I'm looking out for you," Bronson said, his cheek twitching, "but I want you in here if it's important."

  "But why come here at all? Listen, boss. It's none of my business if you like to get high. I do, too. Sometimes."

  Bronson bunched his fists.

  "Not all the time," Sprout said. "Not when I'm at work."

  The walls of The Playground protected Bronson from his worst mistake and biggest fear. Scott Dayton, chained and drugged against his will. It was Bronson's doing; a punishment that matched Scott's crime, at least that's what Bronson had believed at the time. His doubts multiplied with every visit. Scott was a living corpse. Visiting him was Bronson's punishment, but he made those trips religiously. Admittedly from guilt, but also to ensure Scott stayed put, because if he ever escaped, his vengeance would be swift and merciless.

  Bronson opened the stairway door harder than he intended. It thudded against the wall and plaster fell at his feet. "What I do outside of the scrapyard is my business. Poke your nose in and I'll cut it off. Don't breathe a word of this to anyone. Okay?"

  Sprout's brow crinkled in confusion, but he nodded anyway. "Is everything alright?"

  "Clive lives on the fifth floor." Bronson peered up the stairs. They seemed empty, but it paid to stay alert. "Don't roam off on your own," he said and took the first stair.

  Finally reaching the fifth floor, Bronson wiped sweat from his brow and cocked his ear to the door. "I can't hear anything."

  The Playground was a bustling community of sub-humans; a marketplace of trades and squabbles. There should have been voices, hundreds of them, but aside from the odd scream, the place sounded vacant.

  Sprout looked up from his phone at the wariness in Bronson's voice.

  "Has something bad happened in there?"

  "Almost always." Bronson eased his head through the gap in the door.

  The overhead lights were off, but the area was lit by a fire in a metal bin. Its contents crackled and popped as they burned. The corridor was short, ending in darkness. There were eight flats on every floor. Only one of them had a door and that door was closed.

  Bronson and Sprout pushed forward and Bronson nodded toward a room. "Look at that," he whispered.

  The nearest flat contained cots with mattresses no thicker than a slice of mouldy bread. The curtains were decorated with prints of dinosaurs. Sunlight peeked through rips in the material, glancing off used cans of baby formula.

  "Is that a nursery?" Sprout asked.

  "If that's what you want to call it. It's a room where they dump the babies while they go off and get high." Bronson moved on, ignoring the disgust on Sprout's face. He looked into the next flat. It was a large room with grey walls and tattered linoleum on the floor. There were fuel canisters for camping stoves and tins of food stacked on tables. It was one of Clive's shops, providing the residents with sustenance on the rare occasions they ate. The King Rat disliked his subjects going astray.

  "There's no-one here," Bronson said.

  Sprout lingered by the nursery, his eyes round and staring. "I don't blame them. I wish I wasn't here, either."

  "Someone should be guarding this food," Bronson said. "Where are Clive's men? Where's Clive, for that matter? This place should be crawling with bodies."

  "It is," Sprout said, pointing to a shadow on the wall. A rat scuttled around the metal bin. It was a foot long from nose to tail with patchy, black fur. It sniffed the air, its yellow eyes finding them in the dark.

  Bronson and Sprout didn't move. Neither did the rat.

  "I thought they were supposed to be scared of humans," Sprout whispered.

  The twitch in Bronson's cheek stopped, as if it was unwilling to draw attention to itself.

  If the rat was scared, it neglected to show it. Scratching a pink ear with its paw, it finally turned away and ambled down the corridor, slipping under a door.

  "Follow it," Bronson said.

  "Whoa. What for? This isn't Alice in Wonderland."

  "That was a rabbit, you moron." Bronson faced Sprout, but pointed down the corridor. "All these flats are wide open, but for some reason, that rat chose the only one with a door. There must be something in there."

  "Yeah. More rats," Sprout said, but trailed behind Bronson regardless. It was one of the things Bronson liked about the lad.

  The door was solid PVC, clearly stolen from the front of someone's home. The handle was missing, replaced with a padlock, but the padlock was lying on the floor.

  Bronson pushed open the door and gagged, covering his nose and mouth with his arm.

  The room beyond was spacious with natural light spilling through a diamond shaped window. A rug stretched in front of an electric fire with glowing coals. The walls were decorated in fake brickwork paper and semi-pornographic pictures of men. Next to them were very pornographic ones.

  Bronson stared at a plump leather sofa in the centre of the room. Its leather skin was undulating. Small bumps wriggled through its innards, accompanied by muffled squeals. He turned away, the hairs on the back of his neck standing straight. His trainee was right. There were more rats in here.

  "Bloody Nora," Sprout said. "It smells like the toilet hasn't been flushed in a week."

  The door to the bathroom was closed, but Bronson had smelled enough shit in his time to know it wasn't sewage. Edging from the sofa, Bronson moved toward the stench, throwing open the door.

  Startled by the intrusion, a rat leapt from the rim of the bath, escaping through his legs. The smell washed over them like it was a cresting wave and surf was up. Sprout retched. Bronson kept his arm over his mouth, but it made no difference. The odour was so strong, he could taste it. His eyes watered and Bronson wiped away the tears. When his vision cleared, he wished it hadn't.

  There was a big problem hanging from the ceiling.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Eisha sang along to Taylor Swift on the van radio, blending the singer's American twang with her own Geordie accent. The effect was as paralysing as the singing itself. What Eisha lacked in talent, she made up for in volume. Daniel wished his hands were clamped over his ears, not over the steering wheel.

  He parked on a street in Bensham, Gateshead, gazing at the door of Lily's flat. He'd visited her when she'd first moved in and pictured the layout in his mind. It was a far cry from the six-bedroom manor she had once shared with her ex-husband.

  Switching off the radio, Daniel was thankful they had reached their destination. Eisha protested, but he was unable to hear her over the ringing in his ears.

  "Auntie Lily doesn't know we're coming," he said, stroking the back of his daughter's head, "so I'm going to speak to her first and then you get out of the van, okay?"

  The street was studded with wet leaves and puddles. Council paint marks circled the potholes in the road and stray dogs padded along the pavement looking for a meal. There were no people and no cars, except for Daniel's van and a two-year-old Range Rover parked by Lily's door. Daniel wondered who it belonged to because Lily didn't drive.

  Eisha shook off his touch and surveyed the street. "Auntie Lily lives here?"

  "It's nicer than it looks. I want you to stay with her for a few days."

  "Is it a sleepover?" Eisha's frown vanished and she held her hands to her chest. "Can we have chips?"

  Before he could stop her, Eisha was outside, racing to Lily's front door. Daniel fumbled with his seatbelt, desperate to stop her. As he got from the van, he remembered the package on
the back seat. He grabbed it, watching in horror as his daughter pressed the doorbell, over and over again. Daniel chased her to the door and it opened as he arrived.

  Lily stood in a leopard print onesie, her mouth settling into a thin line.

  Daniel swallowed hard. The last time he'd been there was the first and only time they'd kissed. The memory flooded back and there was a heat in his chest. Judging by the look on Lily's face, the experience wasn't about to be repeated.

  "Auntie Lily," Eisha exclaimed. "We're having a sleepover. Can we eat chips tonight?"

  She ducked under Lily's arm and scampered into the flat. The adults locked eyes.

  "Surprised to see you again so soon," Lily said. Behind her, the television was switched on, the channels changing rapidly until they stopped at a music station. "Then again, am I really?"

  Daniel's answer was lost between his brain and his mouth. He offered his gift, waving it in front of her. Lily looked at the basket of fruit and then to Daniel.

  "Are you taking the piss?" she asked, stretching an eyebrow.

  He shrugged and Lily stepped to one side.

  Stooping under the doorframe, he entered the sitting room, embarrassed to find his daughter sitting cross-legged in front of the television, making herself at home. A two seater sofa patterned in sunflowers sat opposite a paisley armchair. A small table was squeezed between them, three of its four legs balancing on an uneven floor.

  The room was so small, Daniel's shadow covered all of it.

  A ceramic vase with a lid sat on the table.

  "I remember that vase from your old house," Daniel said. "Didn't you keep your valuables in it?"

  "I don't have many of those left these days."

  Two empty tea mugs took up the remaining space on the table. One of them read 'Nerds do it in hyperdrive.'

  "Let me clear away these things," Lily said, pressing around him. "Can I get you something to drink?"

  Daniel placed the fruit basket on the table, almost toppling the vase to the floor. "I'm not thirsty."

  Lily went to the kitchen while Daniel sat in the single armchair, his knees touching his chest. He rolled his head around his shoulders, hearing a familiar cracking sound as he made the full circle. Breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, Daniel tried to relax.

  "Looks like you're getting ready for a fight." Lily came into the room and dropped into the two-seater, tucking her legs underneath her.

  "I like fighting," Eisha said.

  Daniel tugged on the pleats of his trousers. "Concentrate on the telly, sweetheart."

  Lily selected an apple from the basket and nodded her thanks to Daniel, polishing it on her thigh. Rather than eating it, she tossed it from hand to hand.

  Their last conversation had been about secrets. So was the one before that. Daniel was surrounded by them, from how he felt about Lily to the truth about his own birth. He didn't like it, but it was the natural order of things in his world.

  What he said now was going to be very important. Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose and focused.

  Keys jangled in the front door and his head whipped toward the sound.

  "Sorry it took me so long," said a man outside the room. "The Spar was busy. Anyway, I got your snacks." He appeared in the doorway, a bunch of green bananas in his hand.

  "I didn't know we were expecting company," he said, strolling in and stretching out a hand. "You must be Daniel. I'm Aziz Panwar."

  He stood over Daniel, dressed in a blue shirt and beige chinos. His brown skin was smooth and scar free, his hair coiffured. He wore the kind of aftershave that smelled expensive and his teeth were too white to be natural.

  Daniel shook Panwar's hand. The bastard uses moisturiser, as well, he thought.

  Jumping from the sofa, Lily stood next to Panwar, saying nothing. The smile on Panwar's face widened.

  "And who do we have here?" he asked to the back of Eisha's head.

  Twisting from her seated position, Eisha looked Panwar up and down. "Are you Auntie Lily's boyfriend?"

  "In this house, we don't use the term 'boyfriend' and 'girlfriend,'" Panwar said. "We're partners."

  Eisha scratched her nose and pointed at the bananas in his hand. "Daddy brought fruit. He always buys it when he doesn't know what to get for someone."

  "Let's not blame Daddy too much." Panwar ran his fingers over the fruit basket, pulling out a bunch of yellow bananas and replacing them with his. "But Auntie Lily doesn't like yellow bananas. She prefers them green."

  Lily's skin reddened. "Why don't we sit down?" she asked, pulling Panwar onto the sofa.

  Eisha kicked off her shoes and gave Panwar a toothy grin. She flipped onto her stomach and turned back to her music. It was the same type of repetitive wailing Daniel had listened to on the way there. He glanced at Panwar and gritted his teeth. The music was beginning to irritate him.

  "You never said anything about having a partner," Daniel said. "Seems like the sort of thing you might mention."

  Lily twirled a strand of hair into a knot and looked at the space above his head. "I saw you for five minutes, Daniel. Hardly enough time for a full debrief, was it?"

  "I can see that," Daniel said and glanced at her wrist. "You're not wearing your watch."

  "It's for special occasions. Like funerals and pawnbrokers. I don't think it goes with my onesie, do you?"

  Panwar stretched an arm over the back of the sofa and rubbed Lily's head. "I love that watch," he said. "It was a gift from your brother, you know? We hide it away when Lily isn't wearing it."

  Panwar's eyes moved to the vase on the table and Daniel stopped himself from rolling his.

  He thought of Scott. Not as he lay dying at Five Oaks, but on the eve of his first year wedding anniversary to Lily. He was drunk, the one and only time Daniel had seen him that way. Slumped in a leatherette booth at the Leg of Mutton pub, Scott pushed empty shot glasses around the table as Daniel waited to escort him home.

  Scott's head wobbled and his eyelids drooped. "I suppose I have to get her something, then," he had said.

  Daniel shook the memory from his mind and found Panwar staring at him.

  "Have you heard the story of how we met?" Panwar said, placing a hand on Lily's knee.

  "I don't think Daniel is interested in that," Lily said.

  "Of course, he is, aren't you?"

  Daniel drummed his fingers on the armchair and nodded. "Of course, I am."

  "We met on a dating site I designed. It's exclusive to the people of the Northeast. I call it Tyne-der. Do you get it?"

  The tension lifted from Daniel's shoulders and he grinned. He got the joke all right and tried to catch Lily's eye, but she refused to look at him.

  "A dating site?" Daniel asked. "That's modern of you, Lily."

  "It's very popular," Panwar said. "You register your details and say what you're after. It could be friendship, romance or our most popular request, sexy times."

  Daniel buried his laughter under an unconvincing cough. "Sexy times, eh? And what was your request, Lily?"

  She snapped her head in his direction, her eyes like pinpricks. "Sod off, you."

  "There's nothing to be embarrassed about, honey," Panwar said. "It's how I make my living. Anyway, the minute I saw this one online, I snatched her up. Removed her membership from the database so no-one else could have her."

  "And another great love story is born," Daniel said.

  Lily leapt to her feet, the static of her onesie crackling. "I'm sorry, Daniel, but you're going to have to leave. I don't think Eisha can stay with us."

  Eisha span round, her bottom lip trembling. "Please, Auntie Lily. I'll be good."

  Standing, Daniel shoved his hands in his pockets. "No, I think Auntie Lily is right. This might not be the best place for you. What with all these sexy times going on."

  "Is there a problem?" Panwar asked. "What do you mean?'"

  Lily threw her head back with a sigh. "Why do you think Daniel is here? I don't even have
to ask him, but he's in trouble, as Daniel always is and he wants us to look after his daughter."

  "Are you in trouble?" Panwar asked, but Daniel ignored him and faced Lily.

  "I want you to keep her safe."

  "I did that once, remember?"

  "That's why I thought you'd understand."

  "There's nothing about you I understand. You come in here and make fun of me while you're still doing the same old thing. For some insane reason, you think that makes you better than me."

  "I'm not doing the same old thing and if you want the truth, I'll tell you. The Maguires have gone to war with us and Eisha is a target. I need someone I trust to look after my daughter."

  "That's not me, anymore."

  "I'm sorry, but it is."

  "Not as sorry as I am," Lily shouted.

  Their faces had moved to within an inch of each other's, their chests rising and falling in tandem. Daniel felt hot. Lily's face glistened with sweat. Her mouth was open and her lips shone.

  "Time out, guys. I've heard of the Maguires," Panwar said, looking at Lily. "They're a heavy bunch of people. Maybe we should look after Eisha?"

  "I've had enough of this," Daniel said. "Come here, Eisha."

  "She's not a dog," Panwar said and crouched to the floor, patting it with his hand. "Come on, Eisha."

  When the music video she was watching finished, Eisha got to her feet, her eyebrows raised. She studied the men in the room, her teeth worrying her top lip.

  "There isn't a lot of room," Panwar said, "but you're welcome to stay, if you want to. We'll get you an airbed and a sleeping bag. It'll be like camping."

  "I like chips as well. Can we have chips?"

  Eisha went to Panwar, her steps tentative and judged, and he pinched her cheek. "I'll make it my top priority."

  Daniel bit his tongue, drawing blood.

  "Auntie Lily?" Panwar asked. "Can you go to the chippy?"

  "I'm not sure if this - "

  "While you do that, I'll see Daniel out," he said, interrupting.