‘Oh, this is gonna be so fucking great!’ he squawked, flinging himself around the room with flailing arms. ‘What a buzz, eh? Shit, man, I can taste the money already! We won’t have no problem getting the cunt to roll over when he sees us heading his way! Especially you, Ged, man!’ He grinned, throwing a mock punch at the big man’s arm. ‘You look like a fucking animal!’
With an irritated grunt, Ged swiped a pile of clothes and newspapers onto the floor and flopped, frowning, into the room’s only armchair. When Sam had called that afternoon to tell him about the job, he’d said he didn’t want any part of it. But Sam had pleaded, and he’d sounded so depressed about his finances that eventually Ged had relented – even managing to convince himself that it might be a laugh. Now he was actually here, with Lee hopping about like a pillock and Mal swaggering around like a Mafia reject, he wished he’d gone with his instincts and stayed away. No matter how much he fought it, these two always managed to piss him off. Always had, and probably always would. And if he’d had any doubts before, he was certain now that this blag was bound to be an absolute disaster.
As Ged silently cursed himself, Sam – looking even more troubled than usual – slumped down onto the battered couch and pulled his Rothmans and a pack of Rizla papers from his pocket. He was desperate for a calming spliff after yet another set-to with Wendy. She’d had a fit when he’d told her what he was doing tonight, and had screamed so long and loud that his ears were still ringing. If he didn’t need the money so badly, he wouldn’t have come. But he
did
need it – especially after totting up the damage Wendy had done to their savings today. With the monthly ‘mortgage’ for the new suite and carpet due next week, there was no way around it. He had to do this.
After searching his pockets several times to no avail, it finally dawned on him that his draw was missing. The small wrap of coke he’d hidden in his change pocket was still there, but the draw was definitely gone. Realizing that Wendy must have lifted it when he was in the shower, he was filled with futile rage. Why didn’t she just rip his fucking heart out and be done, the selfish bitch!
‘What’s up with your mush?’ said Mal, his voice muffled by the wool of the mask. ‘Wendy give you a hard time, did she?’
‘Something like that,’ Sam muttered, and, lighting a straight instead, dropped his cheek onto his fist and sank deeper into the stained couch with an air of utter dejection.
‘You know your problem?’ Lee piped up. ‘You’re too soft on your Wendy. You wanna toughen up, man. Give her some licks – like Mal there,’ he thumbed towards Mal. ‘He’s got Suzie well under control. I’d like to see her give him lip the way your Wendy does. He’d knock her for six, innit, Mal?’
Mal pulled the mask off and smoothed his hair back into place. ‘Too right. No bird’s gonna take the piss out of me and get away with it. Show ’em the back of yer hand before they get the idea they can open their mouths, that’s what I say.’
He didn’t think it necessary to mention the beating he’d inflicted on Suzie earlier – or what an absolute shit he’d felt having to look at her face during dinner. He knew he had to sort himself out if he wanted to keep her, but it was hard. He seriously wondered sometimes if he was cracking up. But making himself out to be a sap in front of his mates wouldn’t help him get it sorted.
‘Wendy would knife me if I tried any of that shit on her,’ Sam said, flicking a crawling something off the arm of the couch with a shudder.
‘That’s ’cos you’re a wuss!’ Mal jeered, happy to shift the focus from himself. ‘A pussy-whipped wuss!’
‘Yeah, but she’s a babe, ain’t she?’ said Lee lustfully. ‘I wouldn’t mind being whipped by her . . . Phwoar! Eh?’
‘You want whipping full stop, you sad git!’ Mal quipped, heading for the health-hazard kitchenette in search of alcohol. ‘You wanna sort yourself out, or you’ll end up hanging round that school again and get yourself nicked!’
Lee’s eyes glazed over at the thought of his last little sojourn to the local high school some months before. He’d had the red Celica then, and the girls had been well-impressed.
‘Them schoolgirls are a right load of ravers,’ he said. ‘Tits out here—’ he held his hands out in front of him ‘—all firm and ripe for the squeeze! Phwoar! What I wouldn’t give to—’
‘Jeezus wept!’ Sam pulled the wrap of coke out and threw it at Lee to shut him up. ‘They’re too young, man – no matter how big their boobs are.’
‘Tosh bollocks!’ Lee sneered. ‘They’re never too young!’
Cracking his knuckles sharply, Ged said, ‘You’re a sick man, Lee.’
‘Get out of it!’ Lee snorted. ‘I wasn’t chasing them, they was chasing me. They’re a right load of nymphos! I could have copped with loads of ’em if that teacher hadn’t seen ’em flocking round me. They were gagging for it!’
‘They were checking the wheels, not you, you tosser,’ said Mal, coming back with a pack of beers and throwing one can to each of them. ‘Why would they want a sad old fart like you with all them young lads about?’
‘Me big dick!’ said Lee, quite seriously. ‘No schoolboy’s gonna satisfy them nubey babes like me.’
Mal shook his head in despair. ‘Drink your ale and cool yourself down, man.’
Lee ripped the tab back and slurped at the froth bubbling over the edge of the can. Licking his lips, he turned to Ged with a glint in his eye.
‘So how’s your little ’un these days, Ged? I haven’t seen her for years, man. How old is she now? Twelve? Thirteen? Must be getting big, eh?’
‘Belt up, Lee,’ Sam warned, flicking a nervous glance at Ged. The last man to disrespect his daughter had been confined to bed with a drip-feed for a month. Lee was definitely stepping into dangerous territory.
Ged didn’t move. Holding his hands to his mouth, one huge mitt cupping a jaw-breaking fist, obscuring all of his face except his eyes, he pinned Lee with a glare. His voice, when it came, was low and dark. ‘She’s fifteen, Lee. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll never mention her again.’
‘I was only asking!’ Lee spluttered. ‘Jeez! What’s it coming to if I can’t ask a mate about his family?’ Turning to Mal, he held his hands up innocently. ‘Did I say anything wrong? Did I?’
‘Pack it in,’ Mal said, hoping to avert the looming disaster. Everyone knew how Ged felt about his kids. ‘We’re not here to talk about girls. We’ve got business to sort out.’
‘Yeah, I know . . . I was only saying—’
‘Well, don’t! You can see you’re pissing Ged off, so leave it, yeah?’
‘What time is it?’ Sam asked, anxious to get this over and done so he could get home before Wendy got back from her night out with her mates – and, he hoped, be in bed asleep, avoiding the dreaded nightly tussle. This last month she’d been like a raving schizophrenic. Bitch-queen one minute – sex-mad crazy woman the next. If she wasn’t screaming at him for something he’d done wrong, she was screaming for a shag, and he was worn out trying to keep up with her.
‘It’s only half-eight,’ said Mal. ‘We’ve got loads of time yet. Got any new films, Lee?’
Sam groaned. ‘Aw, not a bluey. That’s the last thing I need!’
Ignoring him, Lee jumped up with a grin. ‘Sure have!’ he said, pulling three videos from a heap of rubbish beside the couch. ‘New Danish imports, these,’ he bragged. ‘Picked ’em up down Tib Street last week, and they are capital-D Diiirty! Take your pick.’
‘Any,’ Mal said. ‘But I’m warning you now, man – touch your dick and I’ll kick your bleeding head in!’
‘What about the job?’ Ged reminded them. ‘Shouldn’t we be sorting that out first?’
‘Shit, yeah.’ Lee slapped a palm to his forehead. ‘I forgot about that.’
Jumping to his feet again, he ran across to his jacket and pulled out the plan he’d spent the whole of the previous night drawing. Smoothing it out, he put it on the table and turned it towards them, then perched himself on the edge of the couch to explain it.
‘Right,’ he began, rubbing his hands together importantly. ‘This is the plan of the shop. These—’ he pointed out the relevant bits ‘—are the counter, aisles, fridges, and what-not. And these are the doors front and back. These—’ three little stick-men ‘—are the goons. And the “X” is himself counting up.
‘Now the goons go first,’ he went on with authority. ‘And that’s never later than ten past twelve. They come out the front, go round the side into the yard, into the van and off. Pasha stays behind and bags up, then he comes out the back way at half past. And that,’ he beamed around at his friends, ‘is where we come in. Good, innit?’
Mal picked up the sketch for a closer look. ‘You get a wanking chimp to draw this, or what?’ he asked with a derisive snort.
‘Piss off!’ Lee snatched his masterpiece back. ‘Look, never mind that. The point is the place is way overdue for a seeing-to. They’re making too much dosh for my liking, an’—’
‘And most of it’s mine,’ Mal cut in. ‘Suzie spends a bleedin’ fortune in there!’
‘Exactly!’ Lee slapped an emphatic hand down on his knee. ‘It’s our dosh, anyway, so it’s only right we take it back, innit?’
‘That’s not exactly logical,’ Ged pointed out. ‘You’ve had stuff for your money, so technically it’s his.’
‘Fuck me, man,’ Mal laughed. ‘Anyone’d think you’d never blagged nothing! Correct me if I’m wrong, but did you or did you not nearly blind that poor fucker just ’cos he wouldn’t—’
‘Yeah, well, anyway,’ Lee cut in quickly before Mal pissed Ged off even more than he already seemed to be – though why he should be pissed off, Lee had no idea! Still, the last thing they needed was to lose the only real muscle in the team. ‘Let’s get this finished, yeah?’ He waited until he had their attention before continuing.
‘Right, then. I’ve been keeping watch for the past few weeks, and Pasha’s routine is regular as clockwork. Now, the plan is to get round the back after the goons leave, and hide in the bushes till he’s locked up. Then we jump him and mash him up, and all that lovely dosh will be ours!’
‘And it’s dead cert the goons leave by ten past?’ Sam asked.
‘Dead cert,’ Lee assured him. ‘Like I said, I’ve been watching for weeks, an’ that’s how they do it every time. It’s safe, man.’
‘What if someone sees us?’ said Mal. This was Lee talking, after all – Mr Botch-it-and-scarper. ‘I don’t fancy a run-in with the Five-O, know what I mean?’
‘Nah, man, it can’t go wrong,’ Lee insisted, adding with a confident grin, ‘I’ll let you peel me nuts and dip ’em in acid if it does!’
‘And I’ll do it with pleasure, mate,’ Mal half-joked. ‘Right, then.’ He turned to the others, rubbing his hands together. ‘If we’re all finished, I say we have a line to seal the deal.’
Reaching for the last of Lee’s stash, he tipped it onto the mirror, telling Lee: ‘Get a flick on, mate. A good stiffy should get us in the right mood to kick arse!’
Suzie woke with a start, unsure whether the pounding was coming from inside her head or from someone hammering on the door. It was definitely the door. Peering at her watch through sleep-blurred eyes, she struggled to focus on the wavy hands. Nine o’clock. Who the hell could it be?
Struggling upright, she dragged herself from the couch and limped to the front door. The bath had relaxed her, but falling asleep on the couch straight after hadn’t done her any favours. She was aching all over, and didn’t fancy talking to anyone. Peeping through the spyhole, her heart sank when she saw Wendy stamping her feet in the passageway, her fur coat pulled tight around her swollen belly. She slowly backed away from the door, hoping to creep back to the couch, but it was too late – Wendy’s eagle eyes had detected the change in light behind the spyhole. She banged on the door again, shouting: ‘Suzie, it’s me. Hurry up, it’s bloody freezing out here.’
Suzie knew there was no escape – and no excuse for not letting her in. A visit from Wendy was deemed an honour – like a royal visit. If she didn’t let her in now, she’d really take the huff. Opening the door reluctantly, she forced a smile – instantly regretting it as the swollen lip tore itself apart and started to bleed again.
Wendy was shocked by the sight of her. ‘Good God, girl!’ she gasped, barrelling into the hall and pushing Suzie backwards into the light. She looked at her battered face with concern. ‘What the hell happened to you?’ she demanded. ‘You been in a car crash, or what?’
‘It’s nothing,’ Suzie insisted, twisting away from Wendy’s hands and sloping back to the couch with Wendy hot on her heels.
‘Doesn’t look like nothing to me,’ Wendy said, sitting down beside her. ‘Here, let me have a proper look.’ Gently tilting Suzie’s face up to the light, she frowned, asking quietly, ‘What happened, Suzie? And no bullshit, all right?’
Suzie hadn’t meant to tell her, but Wendy was her usual persistent self, and she didn’t let up until the whole story tumbled out.