you didn’t get them bruises pillow-fighting. So stop the karaoke, son. Having a drink problem doesn’t make you Mike fuckin’
Hammer. And you might not have had it in you when you got sent away, my lad, but that’s not to say you didn’t learn a few tricks when you was inside, just like that phoney fuckin’
Mane accent you picked up.’
Blood in my mouth. Feels like I’ve been punched. I fold my arms. ‘Charge me. Or let me go.’
Donkey straightens up, crushes the rollie under his shoe.
We’re not going to charge you, son. Not yet. But if you think you’re free as a bird, you got another thing coming. You’re a scally, Innes. No brains. And you’ll fuck up sooner or later, mark my words. When you do, I’ll be there.’
‘I’ll look forward to that.’
‘One word from me, and you’ll be recalled,’ he says.
‘Christ, are you finished?’
‘For now, yeah. Think on.’
FIFTEEN
I tapped the Clipper on the table and stared out the window at Piccadilly Gardens. We was in this caff what did a good fry up, but I weren’t hungry. Had a bacon harm sitting in front of us, smelled so strong it made me want to throw. So I got out my seat, pushed past Baz and went to take a shite in the bogs.
Hadn’t had one in three days, all backed up. When I managed it, it were a knee-trembling buckshot blast and the smell told us me guts was rotten.
Summat up in me head. Should’ve been cool with it, like, this whole Innes thing. But the cunt were a thorn in me side.
He buzzed about. Couldn’t shake him no matter how hard I tried.
Just like when he were going up in court that time.
Dad told us to leave off that time an’ all, but I weren’t about to let that lie. I said to Dad, I said, ‘Here, c’mon, that cunt gets a deal, he’ll fuckin’ grass.’
Dad said, ‘Leave him.’
‘He’ll grass us up.’
‘Maybe it’s what you deserve, son. Leave him.’
Leave him. Always fuckin’ leave him.
Never fuckin’ look after your own, eh? Keep it in the family, and now Innes were part of the fuckin’ family? More trusted than me, just ‘cause he kept his mouth shut. And who were that down to, eh? Who made the cunt keep it zipped?
Me.
When we did that job, me and Rossie and Baz and Innes and his smackhead brother, that were me what saved the fuckin’ day. Swear to fuckin’ God, that security guard, that fat piece of shite, I never hit him hard. Tapped him. Supposed to be a judo-chop ‘cept I used me torch. You know, like you seen in the pictures. One quick hi-ya- whop and the fucker were out cold. And he would’ve been, except he twatted his head off the floor. I couldn’t have seen that one coming, could I?
Dad went off it. Called us all the cunts under the sun. Like it mattered to him. I were the one up for the fuckin’ charge if Innes spilled it. He were the one what got caught. Him and his smackhead junkie fuckin’ brother. And I sweated big time on that one. Got so’s I had to track him down and have it out with him man to man. But then he got uppity and I reckoned, what the fuck. Let him rot.
I made my point, know what I mean?
I wiped and looked in the bowl. I’d pebble-dashed the cunt, so I flushed and left it. What didn’t go could fuckin’ stay. Let the Paki bog cleaner deal with it.
Washed me face and looked at meself in the cracked mirror. Yeah, Innes were a problem. He’d have to be dealt with, but I didn’t know how to do it. It were like the fucker had the luck of the devil. And it were like Dad liked him more than he liked me.
Well, fuck the pair of ‘em.
I got out into the caff and punched Baz in the shoulder. He made out like it hurt more than it did. ‘Fuck’s up with you?’
‘Bored, fuckin’ bored is what’s up with us, mate.’
‘You wanna go down the amusements?’
‘Amusements? What am I, twelve?’
‘You want to call that blonde piece?’ said Rossie. He had a mouthful of sausage.
‘You what?’
‘That blonde piece from last night. She gave us her number for you.’
‘You never said that.’
‘You want to?’
‘Nah, she were dog rough.’
‘Dog rough, but nineteen,’ said Rossie. He raised his eyebrows.
Baz shook his head. He rubbed his shoulder. ‘Nineteen’s too old for Mo.’
Silence then. I stared at him. ‘Fuck’s that supposed to mean?
‘You like ‘em younger is all,’ said Baz. He smiled.
Always smiling, that fat fuck.
‘Aye, and fuck’s that supposed to mean?’ I had a grip on me cuppa. Some spilled onto me hand, and it was hot. I felt the burn, but it were nowt compared to what were inside. A fuckin’ volcano, just waiting on that shift.
‘Baz didn’t mean anything by it, Mo,’ said Rossie.
‘Let Baz talk for his fuckin’ self, Rossie. Fuck were that supposed to mean, Baz? Calling us a fuckin’ paedo or summat?’
‘Nah ‘
‘Nah, what? You call us a fuckin’ paedo, I’ll put your head through that fuckin’ wall, how’s about that?’
Baz were laughing like he always did when he weren’t sure about summat, the simple fuck. Rossie put his knife and fork down. ‘C’mon, Mo,’ he said.
‘Fat cunt’s got summat to say, let’s hear it,’ I said.
‘Hey,’ said Baz. He didn’t like being called fat. Which was unlucky, like, because he were the fattest cunt I knew. ‘I was just messing.’
‘Fuck off And I chucked me tea at him. Baz were fast enough to miss the mug, but too slow not to catch the brew right in the fuckin’ face. He went off it, yelled, knocked the table when he got up. I planted two fists in his chest and he slumped into his chair, nearly went over. Then I got out from the table and went outside.
I could hear Baz kicking off. Calling us out an’ that. But I lit a ciggie and took a draw. Held the smoke in me lungs hard and tight.
Rossie told him to calm the fuck down, then he came outside with me. ‘Fuck was all that about?’
‘He wants to start summat, he better follow through,’ I said. ‘It’s a cunt with a mouth and nowt to back him up, you know that.’
‘He was just messing with you.’
‘Aye, so what? You want us to take that kind of talk on the chin?’
‘Fuck’s the matter with you? You mashed up or what?’
‘Nah, mate. I’m clean as. It’s that bastard what needs sorting out. Fuck it. Go back to your boyfriend. I’m off.’
I chucked the ciggie at Rossie’s feet and made for the tram.
I didn’t look over me shoulder or nowt.