Granite Grit (Fighting's in the Blood #1)

by Lee Cooper

  “Aye, I didn’t want to be associated wi’ it.” Davie Rhodes.

  “You and your Mom had a hard life with him, eh?”

  “It wasn’t nice, mate. When he took me to boxing, I thought things would change, but it just went further downhill.”

  “He was always giving you a hard time in the gym, too. Made you tough, though?”

  “Aye, that’s true. One thing he taught me, was not to end up like him.”

  We got back to Tim's around one o’clock and I was finally able to get a shower which was refreshing and well needed, staying in it for twenty minutes. His bathroom was as luxurious as the rest of his pad.

  The room was marble-tiled all around in black, white and grey with the usual woman’s touch of bright yellows in candles and flowers. Finished up in the bathroom, stuck on spare clothes Tim handed me, and headed downstairs.

  “Joe, this is Dawn.”

  “Hi, nice to finally meet you.” I leaned into her plump body and gave her the customary kiss on the cheek.

  She had a kind face, a friendly attitude and sounded distinctly Irish.

  “Nice to meet you too, Joe. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “All good, I hope?”

  “Yes, almost.” She smiled. “Have a seat, relax, it will be a little time before your clothes are ready. There’s a Sunday roast cooking, you’ll get a good feed soon.”

  “Cheers, think I should come here more often.”

  Sitting down, I could start to relax while watching TV with Tim for the rest of the afternoon. The smell of the roast wafted through the house. Tim started to count his winnings from the night before, stacking it in piles of hundreds on the floor.

  “Holy fuck, mate. Is that what you made at the bookies?”

  “Aye, sure is. Five grand.”

  “Five grand?! A nice little earner. Is any o’ that courtesy of me?”

  “Na, Joe. I never bet on you.”

  “So, does that mean you thought I was gonna lose?”

  “Na, it just didn’t seem right betting on you. Maybe will in the future though, after seeing what I saw last night.”

  “Look, it’s a one-off. I have a family with a wife I love. It can’t happen again.”

  “That’s a shame, you could make a pile of cash in this game.”

  “I might as well tell you now, I’m not coming back to boxing either. Need to stay away from the scene. You’ll have to let Mike and Bull know.”

  “Fair enough, I understand. It ain’t for everyone.”

  He finished stacking his notes, disappearing out the room.

  Dinner was ready, we tucked into it around the kitchen table. The roast was amazing and just what a hungover body needed. Dawn was a great cook and I complimented her on it. She seemed like a loyal women and knew exactly what Tim did on the side. He was very open and chatted about it over dinner. Something I’d never be able to do in my house.

  By the time we finished eating, my clothes were dry. I said my goodbyes to Dawn and thanked her for the lovely meal.

  Chapter 21

  Back to the Same Old Same:

  “Cheers for the lift, mate.”

  “No problem. You sure you’re not coming back to Kilgours?”

  “Definitely not. I’ll keep in touch, though. We can grab a beer some night?”

  “Aye, sounds a plan.”

  At that, I left the car, Kilgours and Tim behind.

  Approaching the door, I realised I’d have to make up more stories about this security job, and quickly at that.

  “Hi, am home!” I shouted, as soon as the door shut behind me.

  Little Junior ran through to me clinging onto his Ironman and Spiderman toys. Jess must have been in bed.

  “Hi, Daddy! You’re home!”

  “Sure am, kid.” I ruffled his sparse hair, then put my arm around his shoulder, fortunate and proud to be a father. “Where’s your mum?” I asked him.

  “Mummy’s watching TV.”

  May stood up and greeted me with a kiss and a big hug. Happy to be back in her arms. “How did the job go?”

  “Really easy money, babe.” I replied, trying to put on the most confident face I could muster.

  “And look at the wages, an extra hundred.”

  The cash pulled out my pocket in fifties. Her eyes sparkled and her face lit up, which I hadn’t seen in the past few months.

  “What’s the extra hundred for?”

  “There was a few no-shows, so they paid us extra. No trouble either, a hand-out really. I’ll use most of the 500 quid for the fuel bill, you can have the rest for a little shop.”

  “I’ll put it aside for the mortgage, Joe. We’re three months behind. What we going to do about that?”

  “Look, something will come up, I’m bound to get a job soon.” Tried to reassure her, but I had no idea where the cash would appear from. The stress was getting to her. Most of the £500 cash was to keep the power on. “Just have to do the best with what we have at the moment.”

  “This is no good, Joe. We need money. What if we ask my parents?”

  “What, take money from your Father? No fuckin’ way. I’ll never hear the end of it. I’ve had a rough weekend May, I want to relax.”

  “What if I run a little bath for the both of us?”

  “Mmm, someone’s missed me this weekend, ’en.”

  We lay in the bath together almost an hour. Relaxing in each other’s company was brilliant, after spending the previous night with a bunch of maniacs.

  Getting up at 7.30 the next morning, a hell of a lot fresher than the previous day, I slipped back into the usual routine. Getting the kids up, making breakfast, the school run and home to wake May.

  I realised how much I’d missed my family over the weekend. I promised myself to do everything I could to find work and keep our heads above water. I wanted my kids to have everything, unlike my past. They didn't deserve the pain I had to endure, and I would do everything in my power to protect them.

  That morning, I paid the £315 fuel bill, then headed down to the estate agents with £185, the rest of the blood-money to pay into the mortgage.

  “Sir, are you aware of the outstanding balance on our account?” Like I could forget.

  “Yes, course I am, do you think I like you reminding me every time I come in here?”

  “I’m sorry, sir. But, it is my duty to see that your account is kept up to date.” What the fuck did she want me to do or say? £1500 in the red, what the fuck were we going to do?

  Quickly as I could, I left, not able to face the thought of our mounting debt, week by week, month by month. I couldn’t give her what I didn’t have.

  Back to the same old problem, no cash. May would use her whole pay-cheque for the mortgage this week. Twenty-seven quid left in my bank account. Least the kids would get fed.

  On the way home, I picked up the local paper. Nothing in there for me. All jobs you needed qualifications for. I had none, except fighting, but that wouldn’t get me anywhere.

  Frustrated, I got up and headed to the Jobcentre and searched on their computer system. A few jobs in Aberdeen, thought I’d try them. I would find something where the bus would commute to. There were four jobs taking my eye.

  A slaughter-house trainee butcher, a yard-labourer, but you needed a fork-lift licence, a green-keeper at a golf course in Aberdeen, and a dispatch storeman in Inverurie. I applied for all jobs using the email service at the Jobcentre.

  Spending so much time down there, I was on a first-name basis with the staff, my CV saved onto the desktop of their computer.

  Once back at home, I went through the usual afternoon routine, cleaning, picking kids up and laundry.

  Fucking sick of it, this was no way to live as the man of the house. I didn’t mind doing it, but repeating the process day after day with nothing to show financially, was mentally draining me.

  Another week passed before hearing back from the yard-labourer job, telling me they’d employed somebody with a fork-lift licence
and my application had been unsuccessful. Just the usual disappointment.

  I still hadn’t heard back from the other three, but wasn’t expecting anything positive coming from them. The reminder for the council-tax bill had arrived, but couldn't be paid, yet again. The phone had been cut off, that meant the kids had no internet for their games.

  Benefit day was approaching, so at least I’d get some cash. Yet again another trip down the dole office to convince them I was actively looking for employment.

  This was seriously damaging my pride.

  Every time I walked in the door, it made me feel ashamed. The entire staff could see it in my face. “Don’t worry, Joe. Something will come up.”

  Yeah, right. Nothing ever comes up.

  There was only one way I could make cash.

  Chapter 22

  No Choices:

  Fighting was the only thing I knew, and I kept remembering the euphoria of knocking out Warsaw, standing over his paralyzed shell. The buzz, the adrenaline, the roar of the crowd. It was a big difference from doing laundry, pushing a Hoover around, babysitting and knowing I could make more money from fighting, and money’s what we needed.

  A month after the fight, in the Jobcentre claiming my stake again, sitting patiently for my turn, with the usual shame and embarrassment. My time came and I unwillingly looked the lady in the eye while she probed me on my job-hunting. Each question examining my life, this was my Groundhog Day. Walking out onto the street that day, I’d had enough and reached my breaking point, making a decision that would define who I would become.

  I made my choice.

  The first thing was to get to a payphone and call Tim, nowhere near the right decision, but virtually having no choice. The house close to getting repossessed, bills everywhere, no funds to pay them, hiding the eviction threats from the May.

  She became so worried, turning into an angry person, losing her temper with the kids and me, on the verge of having a breakdown. She made a decision to return to nursing. She started proceedings to get her old job back in A&E. Returning to any kind of nursing job would mean massive emotional trauma for her.

  “Hello?”

  “Aye, Tim. It’s Joe.”

  “Alright, what’s the crack, lad?”

  “The crack is, am broke. I need money. Can you get me another fight?” He felt my desperation down the line.

  “You sure, Joe? I can lend you some cash if you’re struggling.” I paused, seriously considering his offer, but that wasn’t my style. Bad enough probing the government for cash every two weeks, never mind my mates.

  I knew he wouldn’t mind, but the point was, I would. If I took his money, that meant I’d be deeper in debt and didn't want the extra pressure of paying it back.

  “No mate, don’t want that. I’ll never be able to pay you back.” Thinking about what that money could do for me and my family.

  “Well, the offer’s there. You’re welcome to it anytime. Joe, you still there?”

  “Aye, still here. Can you get me a fight, ’en?”

  “I’ll speak to Mike, see what he says.”

  “There’s boxing the night, is there?”

  “Aye, you want a run?”

  “Please mate, if you could.”

  “No bother. I’ll pick you up, usual time.”

  “Alright, see you then.”

  May didn’t question why I never attended boxing the past month. Guess she was just happy that I wasn’t going, keeping quiet about it in case talking about it would lure me back. But, I’d have to tell her I’d be going tonight. Getting another scrap would mean I’d have to invent a similar story to the last one.

  After the phone call, I did the usual, picked the kids up from the school and walked them home. Jess seemed tired, Junior hyper as normal. He stayed in his room with his Xbox and Jess sat in the living room as I stuck on a movie to keep her quiet and send her to sleep on the sofa.

  May arrived home just after four, catching me going through a couple loads of washing. She looked happier today. “How was your day?”

  “Boring as usual, May. Same shit, different day.”

  “Yeah, I know how that goes. Got some reduced stuff from the shop. Beef-olives for supper.”

  “Nice one, haven’t had that in a while. I'm going boxing the night by the way, get rid of this boredom.” Scratching the back of my head, it was awkward mentioning the word boxing.

  “Really? I thought you stopped? You’ve not been in a few weeks.”

  “Aye, I know. But am going tonight. Tim’s picking me up.”

  “It’s your choice, I suppose.” She spoke under her breath with disappointment.

  “Well, I better get started on supper. You won’t want to be dancing around with a full stomach.”

  I gathered my boxing gear from the upstairs cupboard. The gloves Tim gave me still in the bag covered in dry patches of Warsaw’s blood. Throwing the bag at the bottom of the stairs, ready for a quick getaway.

  I helped May with the rest of the supper and set the table. We chatted, sitting across from each other. Strangely, the subject was the first time we met in 2002 at the Beach Ballroom, in Aberdeen.

  Fighting on the show, my Dad my corner-man. I was nineteen at the time, training like a man possessed.

  A spell in my childhood when Dad actually stuck around a lot.

  He warmed me up in the conference room being used for the home stable. Burning me out, before getting into the ring.

  The nerves terrifying that night and getting the better of me. The fear my Father sunk into my core as a child, had that effect. Waiting for the MC to call me into the ring, trembling, standing in my Dad’s shadow.

  I only wanted to get in the ring and hear the bell, because that meant three minutes not in his company, gaining my own sense of freedom for four, three minute rounds. Walking into the ring that night, I felt the shiver of a glare. Three hundred people in the ballroom, but I only felt one set of eyes.

  Entering the ring, Dad had his usual final word with me. “Right boy, don't let me down, straight into him.”

  He had a word with the ref while I turned to bury my face in the corner pad, taking a moment before the bell sounded. That's when I saw her.

  This petite girl, neck long, black hair curved into her cheek. Naturally dark, olive skin, looking absolutely stunning, wearing a tight, thigh-length black dress. The moment I saw her, I knew she was the one. Making my legs go weak at the knees, forgetting that I had to hurt someone, turning me to mush with only a look.

  Needless to say, the fight didn’t go to plan. The entire bout, I couldn’t get the better of my opponent. Overly nervous and trying too hard, getting a bit of a battering. Sitting on the stool after every round, Dad yelled at me, steam pouring from his ears. He didn't understand the more he yelled, the less effect it had on me, but that was Dad.

  “What the fuck are you doing in there, boy?! Waken up, for fuck sake! Where's yer fuckin’ head at?!”

  The truth was, I couldn’t concentrate. The only thing interesting me was the girl that caught my eye.

  The fight ended. I lost, which wasn’t a surprise, that tended to happen a lot the older I got. Dad did the usual, ignored me for the rest of the evening and stood at the bar.

  I got cleaned up then plucked up the courage to introduce myself to the girl. Standing in the middle with a bunch of her mates surrounding her, I was more nervous approaching her than walking into the ring.

  “Hi, there. How’s it going?”

  “Good. How’s you, after that fight?”

  “Aye, just fine, thanks.”

  I asked her about herself. Telling me she was nineteen, from Stonehaven, a town fifteen minutes south, moving to Aberdeen to finish her last year at university to become a nurse. She had a job lined up in Aberdeen Royal Infirmary.

  We hit it off as soon as we started chatting, and there's hardly been a day since that we haven’t talked. I couldn’t believe my luck. She should have been way out of my league. So beautiful, laid-
back and naturally kind. She was so easy to get on with. She reminded me a lot of my Mom.

  We chatted about it all while supper was cooking. I felt privileged to be surrounded by such a wonderful family, making the stab of guilt going through me deeper.

  Chapter 23

  Back To The Slog:

  A cold, miserable, dreech November night, Tim picked me up at the usual time of 18.30. Never minded picking me up, he got to visit his Gran, who he cared for dearly.

  “You just couldn’t stay away, eh?”

  “Don’t have a choice, mate. I need money, am sick of having none.”

  “You don’t want a loan?”

  “No, fuck that. I’ll just have to pay it back. I’d rather earn ma cash.”

  “It’s your choice. Gave Mike a call, told him you’re coming back and looking for another fight, think he’s maybe got one.”

  “Really? Who?”

  “Fuck knows. Ask him the night.”

  “Good, hopefully it’s no’ far away, I need the cash.”

  Straight into the changing room, I changed from my winter clothes into shorts and t-shirt. Walking into the gym, only four guys there that night. Danny, Toby, Chris and Peter. Everyone took time to say hello. I wasn't a stranger any more.

  Mike pulled me aside before I had a chance to grab a rope “Hey, Joe. Come over here.” I strolled over to the front of the gym. Mike stood by the front mirrors with his usual slouch, hands in his front pockets and those baggy eyes.

  “Hear you’re looking for another fight?”

  “Aye. Need more cash this time.”

  “Making demands now, boy? I’ll decide how much you get paid.”

  “Well if I don’t get more, I won’t be fighting.”

  Considering I needed the cash more than he needed me, that was a bold demand, but fuck him, he wasn’t the guy risking his life. Looking me up and down, his left eye and cheek twitched, wondering what to say. “OK son, I hear you. I’ve got a fight for you, in a fortnight in Montrose, if you want it.”

  “How much?”

  “Two grand to the winner. Loser walks away with nothing. Usual fix.”