‘According to the Kentish Town drug squad, Hagar uses teenaged boys for quite a lot of small-scale dealing and grunt work. Many of these lads are members of a youth club run by a charity known as The Hangout.
‘Ryan, if you accept the mission, your job will be standard CHERUB stuff. You’ll attend a local school and spend time at The Hangout youth club. Hopefully, within a few weeks, you’ll be able to work yourself into a position where Hagar’s crew take an interest in you. Once you’re inside the organisation, your job will be to find out everything you can.’
Ryan spoke. ‘You said Hagar dealt in cocaine and heroin. Am I interested in both?’
‘The same rules on purity apply to heroin, and police are using the same techniques to track it down. Analysis shows that the heroin sold by Hagar’s gang is of poor to average quality, so it’s unlikely they’re close to the original smuggling source.’
‘Fair enough,’ Ryan said.
‘So are you up for the job?’ James asked.
Ryan nodded. ‘Sure, it sounds like a decent mission.’
‘So what about me?’ Ning asked. ‘If Hagar’s gang only recruits boys, where do I fit in?’
‘I’ve got something different lined up for you,’ James said, as he cracked a slight smile. ‘It’s a long shot, but if it works out it has the potential to smash Hagar’s operation wide open.’
11. BEDS
Officer Wendy opened the isolation cell and found Fay sitting on the end of her bed, glowering.
‘Are you ready to behave?’ Wendy asked.
‘Will you miss me when I’m gone?’ Fay asked back.
Wendy snorted as Fay tucked her school books under her arm and headed for the door. Fay made a short walk to her room, dialled a three-digit combination into her locker and grabbed a towel and clean clothes before heading off for her first shower in five days.
She came back in a bathrobe, and this time there was a Chinese girl sitting on the right-hand bed, doing homework.
‘You’re in the wrong cell,’ Fay said firmly. ‘Where’s Amber?’
Ning shrugged. ‘Amber got moved to a lower security unit, pending release.’
‘You what?’ Fay shouted. ‘Amber’s my roomie.’
‘I’m your roomie now,’ Ning said, as Fay peeled off her bathrobe and grabbed a bra and T-shirt out of a drawer.
Ning went back to concentrating on her textbook, but as Fay pulled on a clean pair of jeans, she noticed that there were no pillows on her bed, while Ning had a mound of four propped behind her back.
‘Who said you could touch my pillows?’ Fay demanded. ‘Give.’
Ning smiled. ‘I’m using them.’
Fay wasn’t used to girls giving her backchat. ‘Pardon me?’
‘Oh, are you deaf?’ Ning said cheerfully, before shouting: ‘I SAID I CAN’T GIVE THE PILLOWS BACK BECAUSE I’M USING THEM.’
Fay now stood over Ning’s bed with her fists bunched. ‘Give me my pillows,’ Fay said. ‘Or I’ll smash your dopey head through the wall.’
Ning tutted. ‘You really are an ill-mannered little girl,’ she said.
Fay couldn’t take any more. She leaned in to throw a punch, expecting Ning to be squealing and handing back pillows a few moments later. But Fay was surprised to find that Ning intercepted her fist, then kicked up with both feet, booting Fay in the stomach.
As Fay doubled over, Ning stood and tried to wrench Fay’s arm behind her back. But Fay managed to straighten up quickly and threw a wild punch which caught Ning in the kidneys.
‘So you know how to fight?’ Ning said, as she stepped forward aiming a barrage of punches.
Fay was forced to retreat until she’d backed up to the metal lockers. Ning landed several heavy punches before Fay stumbled out of the corner fighting for breath. As Ning turned to face Fay’s new position, Fay launched a vicious kick that knocked Ning back into the lockers.
Ning knew that Fay had kickboxing skills, but hadn’t anticipated that she was this good. Ning fought pain from the kick as she charged forward. Fay was tall and had greater reach, while Ning was broad and came forward like a battering ram.
After a speedy exchange of kicks and slaps, Ning grabbed Fay’s hair and threw her across a bed. Then Ning sat across Fay’s back and dug her elbow painfully between her shoulder blades. A guard named Gladys had heard the commotion and came charging in.
‘What the hell is going on?’ she shouted.
Ning immediately jumped off Fay’s back. ‘Nothing, miss.’
Fay groaned as she rolled over, but managed a smile for the guard. ‘Just a little roughhousing,’ she confirmed.
The guard pointed accusingly. ‘I’m gonna be keeping my eye on you two,’ she warned.
Ning moved towards her bed as the guard backed out. Fay scowled and rubbed a hand that had been grazed somewhere along the way. After a minute, Ning picked up two pillows and threw them across at Fay’s bed.
‘There,’ Ning said. ‘Where’d you learn kickboxing?’
Fay stood up and plumped the pillows before answering grudgingly. ‘My auntie taught me. You?’
It’s best to keep the number of lies you have to remember to a minimum, so Ning had worked out a back-story that was close to the truth.
‘Grew up in China,’ Ning said. ‘I got picked for a sports academy, did a lot of boxing and martial arts.’
‘You’re the first girl in here I’ve not flattened. I’m Fay, by the way.’
‘I’m Ning.’
Ning reached between the beds and Fay gave a wary smile as they bumped fists.
‘So how’d you end up in Idris?’ Fay asked.
‘I was in a care home,’ Ning explained. ‘Broke curfew, came in drunk. Attacked the night supervisor. Smashed up his office and broke both his arms.’
Fay laughed. ‘Subtle! So how long have you got?’
‘Thirty days,’ Ning said. ‘But I served most of that in a low security unit, until I got in a fight. I’m just here for seven days. You?’
‘Eighteen months for slashing a cop, but only a week left now.’
‘A cop,’ Ning said. ‘Impressive.’
‘Breaking both arms is good though,’ Fay said. ‘I feel sorry for whoever has to wipe his arse until they’re out of plaster.’
Ning dropped a line she’d carefully prepared to have an effect on Fay. ‘At least you’re going out to family and stuff.’
Fay sounded irritated. ‘What do you know?’
‘Sorry,’ Ning said. ‘I just assumed. I’ve got nobody on the outside. Dad’s in prison in China and my mum died. So it’ll be another crummy Islington care home.’
‘Islington?’ Fay said. ‘Whereabouts?’
‘Tufnell Park.’
‘I’ve lived near there most of my life,’ Fay said. ‘I’m just like you: no family. Mum died a long ways, then my aunt got killed.’
‘Pisser,’ Ning said.
Fay smiled like she’d thought of something funny. ‘You know, Ning, it’s a pity you didn’t get here a few months earlier, because if we’d worked together we could have owned this place!’
*
Ryan’s hands gripped James Adams’ waist as the mission controller opened the throttle of his 865cc Triumph Bonneville and rode under a bridge at close to seventy miles per hour. James zoomed past a red double-decker and blasted over a pedestrian crossing, before taking a right into a side street and slicing between a people carrier and the kerb.
After cutting the throttle, James took a lazy right-hand turn and pulled through gates in front of a brick-built, three-storey council block. Once the bike was stopped on a little paved patio, Ryan hopped off and gasped with relief as he pulled off his helmet.
‘Enjoy the ride?’ James asked chirpily, as he looked at his watch. ‘Ninety-fi
ve minutes from campus. You’d never get close to that in a car.’
Ryan trembled with a mixture of fear and rage. ‘You’re insane!’ he yelled.
James grinned. ‘Four years in the saddle and no accidents, mate. Slow down, James, I feel sick, James, mind the lollipop lady, James. You’re worse than my girlfriend, Kerry. She won’t ride with me any more.’
‘I’m not riding with you any more,’ Ryan said.
James shrugged. ‘Fine, but the journey back to campus is a bus, three trains and a taxi. Now let’s see what the relocation team has done for us.’
Ryan’s hands still trembled as he put the key in the front door. It was a two-bed, ground-floor flat on the edge of the Pemberton estate. The rooms were small, but the whole place had been refurbished to a decent standard.
Ryan found a small bedroom and saw that the relocation team had already put his clothes in the wardrobe, while his mission equipment stood in a flight case at the end of the bed.
‘They got our shopping from Waitrose,’ James said, as he shoved a ready meal in the microwave and pressed start. ‘Dead posh. You hungry?’
‘I think it’ll take my guts about a week to settle after the bike ride,’ Ryan said.
James shook his head with contempt as Ryan stepped up to the kitchen sink and opened the slats of a Venetian blind. There was a tiny paved back garden, followed by a view downhill of several more low-rise blocks set around a courtyard.
At the centre of the courtyard was a concrete play area and a large, corrugated metal building with a giant blue and red logo along the side which read The Hangout – Youth Centre.
12. FLOOD
James cooked up bacon and mushroom omelettes for breakfast. Ryan wolfed it down in his underwear, before heading back to his room to put on the black and yellow tie and green blazer of St Thomas’ Boys school.
‘Remember what we talked about in the briefing,’ James said. ‘To get in with the drug dealers you’ve got to create the impression of being tough and rebellious. But not so crazy that people think you’re unstable.’
‘I know,’ Ryan said.
‘And the photographs?’ James asked.
James had been through all this the day before on campus and Ryan sounded mildly irritated. ‘God, James! I’ve studied the pictures we got from Kentish Town Police, so I know which kids to try hanging out with.’
This part of north London wasn’t known for great schools and St Thomas’ was the worst of a bad bunch. The main building was an old Victorian schoolhouse, the air in the lobby fouled by a putrid aroma coming out of the boys’ toilets.
The woman on reception directed Ryan to an office on the second floor. The head of Year Ten was a lanky IT teacher called Mr Kite.
‘Welcome to St Thomas’,’ he said, as he firmly shook Ryan’s hand. ‘Now, how about we get off on the right foot by tucking that shirt in?’
Ryan grudgingly tucked his shirt in, before sitting through a boring lecture on the difficulties he’d face catching up with the GCSE programme, and how the school had a family ethos and didn’t tolerate bullying or racism.
Once the spiel was out of the way, the bell for first lesson was long gone and Ryan managed to arrive at his science class twenty minutes late. He charged into the room noisily and went straight for a seat near the back.
‘Young man, what are you doing?’ a bearded teacher asked.
Ryan looked down between his legs. ‘Sitting on a stool,’ he said sarcastically, making a couple of other kids laugh.
‘Well, you don’t roll into my lesson twenty minutes late and sit down. Especially when I have no clue who you are.’
Everyone in the class watched Ryan as he strolled to the front of the room and showed the teacher a timetable. There were two kids he recognised from surveillance photos in the room.
The teacher pointed out a name on Ryan’s timetable. ‘Science, Miss Dingwall. Do I look like Miss Dingwall to you?’
Ryan grinned. ‘I don’t know, I’ve never met Miss Dingwall.’
The teacher stroked his beard.
‘Some women are pretty hairy,’ Ryan said, which made the classroom erupt with laughter.
The teacher chose to ignore the quip and pointed to the right. ‘Two classrooms down.’
‘All right,’ Ryan said sourly, as he headed for the exit. ‘No need to get snotty.’
‘I don’t like your attitude,’ the teacher shouted. ‘You’re lucky I don’t report you to your head of year.’
Ryan sauntered out, walked down a hallway and then crashed noisily into Miss Dingwall’s classroom.
‘Oh right, you must be the new student,’ she said, in a posh accent. ‘You’re a little late and we’re just about to start an experiment, OK? So if you can quickly copy the diagram on the board, I’ll come over and help you set up, yaah?’
‘Yaah!’ Ryan said.
Ryan immediately recognised three kids from surveillance pictures, but only one had an empty bench next to him. He was a chubby half-Somali, half-English kid called Abdi.
‘Miss, I haven’t got a workbook,’ Ryan said.
But Miss Dingwall had been expecting a new student and was already coming across the room with a workbook, a textbook and several printed worksheets.
As she worked with Ryan, helping him set up the equipment for an experiment, the rest of the class grew so rowdy that she was forced to return to the front and yell at everyone to settle down.
Ryan looked across at Abdi. ‘I’m Ryan,’ he said.
Abdi scowled and looked Ryan in the eyes. ‘And why should I give a shit?’ he asked.
*
Fay and Ning chatted through the night, from little stuff like what films and music they liked to big things like what they planned to do when they got out of Idris.
‘Everyone says I’m just a kid,’ Fay complained. ‘But I’m not gonna let the people who killed my aunt and mum get away with it.’
‘I admire your determination,’ Ning said. ‘But you’d be taking on an entire organisation. Maybe you should ride with that cop you were talking about.’
Fay tutted. ‘I’m not a snitch.’
It was gone 3 a.m. when the two girls stopped talking and went to sleep. As a result the pair were tired and grumpy when a guard named Sarah woke them up for school.
Lessons were compulsory in the STC, but each teacher had to struggle with fifteen kids who varied wildly in age and ability and often didn’t have English as their first language. Fay and Ning’s teacher didn’t seem bothered that the pair settled on cushions at the back of the classroom and dozed off.
When school ended at 2 p.m., all the girls headed back to the accommodation block.
‘There’s only ever Wendy plus one other guard on duty,’ Fay said. ‘You wanna have some fun?’
Ning looked intrigued, but sounded wary. ‘Nothing that gets my sentence extended.’
‘Agreed,’ Fay said. ‘But there’s only one segregation cell and I’ll bet you five pounds that I can get put in there before you.’
Ning smirked and put her hands on her hips. ‘Are you saying you’re more of a badass than me?’
‘I’m not saying,’ Fay said. ‘I know I’m more of a badass than you.’
Once they got back from the education block, most girls started going to their rooms, while a few changed clothes to go join a netball match outside. Fay cut into the laundry room and dived on top of a washing machine.
She tried reaching down the back, but her arms weren’t long enough and she looked back at Ning.
‘Don’t just stand there, give us a hand,’ Fay said, as she started dragging one of the machines away from the wall.
When they’d pulled the machine back half a metre, Fay jumped into the gap behind and wrenched the water hose out of the back. As water began to sp
ew, Fay reached around and pulled the pipes out of the machines on either side.
‘Tip all the powder,’ Fay said.
There were two giant boxes open and the girls each threw the powder in all directions as water began puddling on the floor.
‘Anarchy!’ Fay yelled, as she backed out and headed for their cell.
The pair sat on their beds, waiting for someone to report their sabotage to a guard. It felt like ages, but it was little Izzy who saw the water pouring down the corridor. She ran back to Wendy’s office.
‘Miss, there’s water flooding the laundry room!’
Fay and Ning peeked out of their room as Wendy frantically yelled for the second guard, Sarah, to come running. As the guard splashed down a hallway running with an increasing torrent of water, Wendy dispatched Izzy to go find the facility’s maintenance person.
‘I’m not sure how to shut it off,’ Wendy shouted. ‘There must be a stopcock somewhere.’
As soon as she was sure that the two guards were inside the laundry room, Fay led Ning across the hallway and into Wendy’s office.
Fay immediately opened the filing cabinet and began chucking out files and throwing them across the floor. Ning realised she had to join in and yanked out the desk drawers, scattering their contents.
A bunch of girls had started gathering in the hallway to watch the running water and a couple joined the fun, grabbing the folders and files from Wendy’s desk and throwing them out into the damp corridor. Fay and Ning were both laughing, but also a little bit scared.
Ning thought they’d accomplished what they needed to, but Fay had one final target. She stormed back into the hallway and sploshed her way down to Izzy and Chloe’s room. Izzy had run to get maintenance, but Chloe stood in her doorway and had rolled up a towel to try stopping the flood from getting into her room.
‘Grass bitch,’ Fay shouted, as she gave Chloe a two-handed shove into the cell.
Chloe screamed as Fay kicked her hard in the thigh, then sent her sprawling backwards over her bed. Ning’s instinct was to defend Chloe, but her mission was to get close to Fay and she had to find a way to break up the fight without jeopardising their friendship.
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