‘Don’t worry about that, deary,’ said Darren casually. He patted the bed. ‘Come and lie down here with me, I’ll give you a bit of a rub down and he’ll soon be in the mood.’
God, he’d noticed. How embarrassing. Rigid with self-consciousness, Eddie stripped off his clothes and clutched the towel in front of himself as he went to the bed. He laid down.
‘That’s it,’ said Darren with breezy professionalism. ‘Face down now. I’ll do you a nice back rub with some lavender and baby oil.’
It was a long time since he’d been touched. Under Darren’s skilful hands Eddie relaxed. He hadn’t realized quite how tense he’d been, but Darren had the hands of an angel. Eddie closed his eyes and drifted away, and the first he knew something was wrong was when there were heavy footsteps on the stairs and the sound of the door crashing back on its hinges.
He heard Darren say: ‘Who the hell are you?’ and then there was the sound of a blow being struck and Darren screamed. Eddie tried to scramble up, but a heavy hand caught his arm and twisted it up behind his back. He felt his shoulder pop out of its socket and shrieked with pain.
‘Just stay right where you are, fairy,’ snarled a voice in his ear, ‘or I’ll break your other cunting arm, got that?’
Eddie felt cold pointed steel touch his anus. ‘I heard you like it up the arse, shit-stabber,’ said the voice over Darren’s sobs. Then there was agony. An agony so severe that Eddie couldn’t even cry out. The knife went in deep, then was jerked brutally out. Hot liquid gushed over Eddie’s thighs. Blood. His blood. Sickness and horror welled in his throat. Oh Jesus please stop, he thought, but he couldn’t say it, his words were stuck at his lips.
‘Say hello to Max for me,’ said the voice by his ear, and then the knifeman was thundering back down the stairs and out.
He felt himself slipping away. He knew he was losing a lot of blood and tried to ask Darren for help. Then he heard a voice. Female and concerned.
Alerted by Darren’s scream, Annie had run out of her room to see what the hell was going on.
‘Darren, what’s been … oh Jesus,’ said Annie. She saw Darren naked and clutching his bleeding face, crouched on the floor. And on the bed … someone covered in blood. Drenched in it.
‘Get Celia,’ moaned Darren.
‘She’s out,’ said Annie, feeling suddenly sick and giddy. She took a deep breath, steadied herself. She grabbed a towel. ‘Darren, get up here. Come on. Press this to the wound, hard as you can. I’ll phone for an ambulance.’
‘It’s Eddie Carter, Max Carter’s brother,’ wailed Darren.
‘What?’ Annie stared in disbelief.
‘He’s one of the Carters.’ Darren crawled over to the bed and pressed the towel to Eddie’s bleeding anus.
‘Stay there with him,’ said Annie. ‘And get some trousers on, Darren, for Christ’s sake.’
Heart thundering, she went downstairs to the phone in the hall. She called for an ambulance. Then she thought about Eddie’s family. Max. Jonjo.
‘What the fuck do you want?’ asked Connie.
‘Don’t put the phone down,’ said Annie quickly. ‘It’s an emergency. Eddie’s been hurt at Celia’s place. I’ve called for an ambulance. You’ll have to tell Ruthie and Max.’
Annie put the phone down and tottered into the kitchen. She pulled out a chair and flopped at the table, head in hands. She was shaking with shock. When the front door opened she jumped, ready to run. Someone had walked right in here and hurt Eddie Carter badly. They might come back and do for the rest of them. Maybe whoever it was hated whores. Maybe they would mistake her for a whore and cut her about like that poor bastard upstairs.
She watched the kitchen door open, not daring to even breathe, waiting for God knew what horror to come and envelop her.
But it was Celia.
Annie’s breath escaped in a rush. ‘Oh God,’ she gasped.
‘What’s happening, Annie?’ asked Celia, staring at Annie’s ashen face. ‘You look like shit.’
Annie told her.
Celia sat down. ‘Did anyone see who did it?’
‘No. Nobody.’
‘Who knows about this?’
‘I phoned for an ambulance. And I phoned Mum, so that she could let Max know.’
All the life went out of Celia’s eyes. She looked blankly down at her manicured hands.
‘You let Max Carter know that his brother came to harm while he was in my house?’ she echoed quietly.
‘Celia, I had to.’
Celia nodded. ‘I’m a dead woman,’ she said.
16
When Annie pitched up at her mother’s door a week later, Connie tried to shut it in her face, but Annie was quick and shoved her foot in the gap. She pushed hard, forcing her mother out of the way, and strode in.
‘You’re not welcome here,’ snarled Connie.
Annie was looking around her with distaste. She hadn’t been back to this place in months. The room stank of booze and cabbage and urine, there was dust everywhere and the carpets were stained. It was the middle of the day and Connie was still in her dressing gown. It was obvious that without Ruthie’s sobering influence, Connie was sinking further into her dependency on booze.
Annie looked at her mother. Her eyes were puffy, her skin yellower than ever. There was a fag in her hand, as usual, and a vodka bottle not far away, if Annie was any judge.
‘Don’t worry, I wasn’t expecting you to roll out the red carpet,’ said Annie. ‘I just want to know what’s going on, that’s all.’
‘What do you mean?’ Connie took a deep drag, squinting her pale eyes against the smoke.
‘You’ve been putting the phone down every time I’ve called. So now I’m asking you straight. How’s Eddie?’
‘Eddie Carter’s none of your fucking business.’
‘No, you’re wrong. Celia is worried sick, that makes it my business.’
‘Talk about like taking to like,’ Connie sneered. ‘She’s a tart and so are you.’
Annie gritted her teeth. ‘Just tell me about Eddie, you rotten old cow!’
In her worst nightmares Annie often revisited that awful night. Eddie bleeding like a stuck pig, Darren hysterical, Celia catatonic with shock.
But a calmness had settled over her and somehow she had taken charge. Called the ambulance, got them organized. But the minute she’d phoned Connie, other things had started to happen. Before the ambulance arrived, Gary and Steve, two of Max’s boys, had come and taken Eddie away, bundled him into the back of a car. She would never forget Eddie’s white, tortured face. The ambulance men had arrived six minutes later and so Darren took advantage of the facilities.
‘They told us two casualties,’ said the men, eyeing the bloodied empty bed with suspicion.
‘My mate legged it,’ said Darren, holding a towel to his battered face. ‘We had a fight, it was nothing.’
‘Come on then,’ said one of the men. ‘Let’s get you seen to.’
‘What the fuck did you have to go and tell Connie for?’ Celia asked when they’d gone. She still sat at the kitchen table, her hands shaking, her face blank.
‘They had to know. They’re his family.’
‘He was targeted in my house.’
‘Darren said there was another man with him. Man with a deaf aid.’
‘One of his own?’
‘Seems so.’
