‘Sshhh!’ someone hissed, clamping a rough hand over her mouth. ‘Come with me . . .’
PART ONE
1
‘Holly, I’m off,’ Josie Evans called out as she pulled her coat on and snapped the poppers shut. ‘I’ve got to nip into the office before I start work, and I’m running late so you’ll have to make yourself a butty. Go easy on the milk, ’cos there’s not much left and I’ll want a brew when I get home. Oh, and don’t forget I’m doing a double tonight, so I won’t be back till morning.’
When no answer came, she popped her head around her daughter’s bedroom door. Holly was sitting cross-legged on the bed, her mousy-brown hair hanging down around her face, her gaze fixed on the schoolbooks that were spread out on the grubby duvet.
‘Did you hear me?’
‘Yeah, you’re off.’
‘And?’
‘I’ve to make myself a butty and not drink all the milk.’
‘And I won’t be home till morning.’
‘Mmm hmm.’
‘Don’t open the door. If anyone knocks, ignore it. And if you hear any—’
‘Mum,’ Holly groaned, looking up at last. ‘I’m not a kid. I know the rules.’
Josie opened her mouth to point out that, at fifteen, Holly was still a child and the rules were there for a reason. But she swallowed the words when she saw the pained expression on Holly’s face, and said, ‘OK, I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t stay up too late.’
Holly looked down at her books without replying and watched from the corner of her eye as her mum shook her head before leaving the room. As soon as the front door clicked shut, she shoved the books aside and flopped back against her pillows. Every night before she left for work her mum trotted out the same list of dos and don’ts, and it did her head in. It was like she thought Holly was going to throw a wild party the minute her back was turned and invite all the local misfits round. Stupid cow!
No longer in the mood for revision, Holly got up when her belly growled and wandered into the kitchen. There were only two slices of bread left and both had green specks of mould on their crusts. Scraping them off with her thumbnail, she took a pack of ham slices out of the fridge. It was three days past its use-by date, but there was nothing else in, and it smelled OK when she sniffed it, so she threw the sandwich together and took a bite out of it as she headed into the living room.
Almost choking on the food at the sound of a loud bang outside, she switched the light off and rushed over to the window. There had been three shootings on the estate that month, and the victim of the most recent one had collapsed just inside the gates to her block. She had been sleeping at the time, so she hadn’t known anything about it until she set off for school the next morning and saw the blood on the path. The victim had survived, but he’d refused to name his attacker, and that, along with the scraps of crime-scene tape that were still attached to the gate and the railings, were a constant reminder that the gunman remained on the loose – maybe living in this very block.
Relieved to see that it was only a group of youths taking turns to pull wheelies on a mud-spattered, backfiring motorbike tonight and not a shooting, Holly took another bite of the sandwich as she watched the bike’s tyres churn up the grass at the front of the block. An angry shout suddenly drifted up to her, and she pressed her forehead against the glass when the old man who lived in the flat below came out onto the path brandishing his walking stick.
‘Bugger off out of it!’ the man bellowed, waving the stick at the lads as he approached them. ‘I’m bloody sick of you lot coming round here making a racket. And look what you’ve done to the grass. You want locking up!’
‘Who the fuck d’ya think you’re talking to?’ one of the lads sneered, shoving him roughly back. ‘Piss off inside before I cave yer ’ead in, ya fuckin’ nonce!’
The man staggered backwards and then fell, and Holly was sure that the gang were about to beat him up when they closed in on him.
‘Oi, pack that in!’ a woman yelled from the floor above. ‘And you just wait till I see your mam, Robbie Campbell. If she don’t leather you, I bleedin’ will!’
The fact that the woman knew one of their names had the desired effect and the lads stopped toying with their prey and took off. About to move away from the window when they’d gone, Holly hesitated when her eye was drawn to the front-room window of one of the old terraced houses directly across the road. The light was on and the blinds were open, and Holly frowned when she saw the woman who had moved in there a few months earlier walking backwards with her arms outstretched in front of her, as if to keep someone at bay.
Shocked when a man she’d seen coming and going from the house lurched into view and slapped the woman across the face, sending her sprawling on the floor, Holly edged behind the curtain and peeped round it in time to see the woman haul herself up to her knees, only for a kick in the ribs to send her flying again. The man leapt on her, and Holly shuddered when he pinned her to the floor and started punching her in the face.
A police car suddenly hurtled round the corner, sirens blaring, lights flashing, and screeched to a halt outside the house. Two
