Kill All Enemies

by Melvin Burgess

  Buying him a T-shirt means that much?

  ‘And how does your brother get on with your stepdad?’

  ‘Pretty good. He’s his proper dad.’

  ‘Is he happy about your mum going?’

  I asked a few more questions. Rob picked up a pencil and started doodling away, like he was bored. But, I knew, he wasn’t bored.

  And then I struck pay dirt. ‘And how do you get on with your stepdad, then?’

  Slowly at first. His dad going when he was small. Philip moving in. Philip scaring his mum. Scaring him.

  Scaring him. I took a leap in the dark. ‘Rob. Is he hurting you?’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘No, he wouldn’t do that.’

  And then he started to cry.

  Oh, Christ. Rob not telling his mum because he wants to look after her. Thinking that so long as Philip’s on his back he won’t hurt his mum or his brother. Carrying the whole mess on his own shoulders. I didn’t push it. I just let him talk. And talk and talk and talk. Nothing about being hurt – he wasn’t going to admit that, if that’s what it was. But all about how great his mum was and how bad Philip was, and how much he wanted to help her and how much he hated him. It took about fifteen minutes, I’d say. Light the blue touchpaper and stand back.

  After he’d done, I leaned back and I said, ‘OK, Rob, I want to tell you how hearing that makes me feel, if that’s all right.’ He looked at me like I’d slapped him.

  ‘What?’ he said.

  ‘It makes me feel very, very angry that you’re being treated like that. It makes me feel very sad that there’s no one there to help you out and take that load off your shoulders. And another thing it makes me feel: it makes me feel a whole lot of respect for you, Rob.’

  He looked at me like – respect? It had never occurred to him that anything he did was worth respecting.

  ‘The way you look after your little brother. I don’t know if I could do that. You must get very angry with him sometimes, because he’s the favourite. But instead of taking it out on Davey, you look out for him. No wonder he loves you so much. No wonder your mum trusts you so much to keep an eye out for him.’

  ‘Yeah, well,’ he muttered. He looked astonished. But I meant every word.

  ‘And not telling your mum how much Philip bullies you – that’s really brave,’ I said. He hadn’t said a word about being bullied, but he didn’t disagree.

  ‘I do have a problem with it, mind. Protecting your mum, that’s not your job. It’s not fair on you. But I have so much respect for you, Rob, for your courage, for your faith in people. You’re a hero. No, I mean it. You have all these troubles on your shoulders, at home, at school, here – and there you are, looking after the people who mean something to you. Not lashing out at them, not causing them trouble – taking care of the people you love. I can’t tell you how much respect I have for that.’

  ‘Yeah, well,’ he muttered. He looked so embarrassed, poor love. But then I got my reward. He peeped up and smiled at me – a great big smile.

  Put me in my place, eh?

  We talked a little longer. I’ve not got it all out of him, not by a mile – but it’s a start. I got his records out. Moved here from Manchester just a few months ago. Wonder what the story is behind that? Excluded for bullying. I know that school. They have a culture of bullying there. I should have had my alarm bells ringing about this right at the start. Sometimes, it’s easier for the school to get rid of the kid who’s being bullied, rather than take on the whole culture. That way they only have to deal with one kid and not half the students there. Not to mention the teachers. I’ll bet my bottom dollar that’s what’s happened with our Rob.

  He should be coming here full time. I’ll have a word with Jim to get on to the school, and see what we can do for him.

  There we go. Another lesson, another kid. Hero or troublemaker? You tell me. Maybe it’s the same thing.

  After Rob had left I went round and gathered everyone’s papers together and had a quick look. They’d all written something, except – guess who? Chris Trent. Now, that was a surprise. There was his name, nice and neat at the top. Rest of the paper – blank. I thought, You lazy little get. Anything to get out of doing any work, is that it, Chris? I might have left it there, but … what about all that fuss in class earlier? Fidgeting in his chair. Helping everyone whether they need it or not. He’d been more trouble than the rest of them put together.

  I went and checked his notes. I was amazed. His work in school was pretty patchy, but it was the homework. He hadn’t done any for four years. Nothing. They’d tried every measure on earth to get him to do the work, and he refused to shift. That’s pretty committed laziness, isn’t it? So what’s that about? Principles? You reckon?

  Because I don’t.

  I’d call that more like a cry for help.

  Rob

  I was having a day and a half. First everyone’s having a go at me about Billie and suddenly there’s Hannah telling me how great I am. I don’t get it. It was nice, but – she doesn’t know what a coward I am. I wasn’t going to tell her, either.

  Philip was on my case as soon as I got up that first morning after I got back. ‘Where is she, son?’ he said. I hate it when he calls me son. I said what Mum told me to say – that she’d asked me not to tell him and that she said he’d respect her wishes. He nodded, but that didn’t mean anything. We were at breakfast; Davey was there. But the look he gave me. It’s not over, no way is it over. Tonight, tomorrow night, sometime very soon, he’s going to ask me again and I’m going to tell him. I’m not a hero. My mum is the hero. She’s the one who’s trying to save us all from Philip. I’m the one who’s going to blow it for her.

  See how much Hannah respects me when that happens.

  Even so, she made me feel better. And then I wasn’t out of there ten minutes when – guess what? Snailboy. Would you believe it? He comes straight up to me while I’m eating my crisps in a nice quiet corner and he goes, ‘Right. I don’t like you and you don’t like me.’

  ‘Look, mate,’ I said. ‘I don’t want any trouble. I’ve had it with trouble. I’m sorry you got your balls stamped on. Can we just leave it now, OK?’

  ‘It’s not that,’ he said. ‘That fight with Billie. You know what happened, don’t you?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You were tripped up.’

  ‘You’re joking!’

  ‘I’m not.’

  ‘On purpose?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  It made sense – the way I went down.

  ‘Who was it?’

  ‘That kid Ed.’

  I breathed out. ‘Him.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘The most irritating kid in the world.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  We stood there looking at each other. I’d had my head kicked in, he’d had his balls stamped on, all because of that one nerdy little kid.

  ‘What do you want to do?’ he said.

  ‘I want to kick his head in. You?’

  ‘You’re on.’

  We caught up with him later in the toilets – it’s about the only place you can get someone in the Brant. He tried to make a run between us, but we cut him off.

  ‘I’ll tell Jim,’ he squeaked. ‘I’ll tell Hannah!’

  ‘Tell who you want,’ said Chris, and he shoved him back inside. We cornered him by the wash basin. He was just this miserable little squirt. It was pathetic.

  ‘What are we going to do with him?’ asked Chris.

  ‘Pulverize him,’ I said.

  ‘I had your mum,’ said Ed.

  Chris and I looked at each other.

  ‘What?’ we both said.

  ‘I had your mum,’ he squeaked. Then he looked up at us and smirked.

  What? Did he want to get beaten up? Why was he making it worse? He was supposed to be begging for mercy and whimpering and crying.

 
; ‘Are you off your head?’ said Chris.

  ‘I had your sister and all,’ he said.

  We looked at each other over the top of his head.

  ‘He is, he’s mental,’ I said.

  We picked him up by the shirt, but, funny thing, no one did anything yet. It was just too pathetic. Him almost begging for it. It made hitting the little weed just … I dunno …

  ‘Bog wash?’ suggested Chris.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Head down the toilet, flush the chain.’

  ‘Good. No! He’ll be wet, they’ll know.’

  ‘Your mum liked it! She asked me to do it again!’ he screeched.

  I reached down and wriggled my fingers in Ed’s side, and the kid whooped.

  ‘No! Don’t do that!’ he yelled.

  So we grabbed him tight, got him face up on the floor, held his arms above his head, sat on his legs and tickled the little runt and he laughed and laughed and laughed so much he was sick. At least, he would have been if Jim hadn’t come in. We got a good few minutes in, though, I reckon. He was pretty nearly weeping by then.

  Jim was furious.

  ‘I won’t have fighting in here,’ he yelled.

  The little toad scrambled to his feet. ‘They beat me up, sir. They bog-washed me. They said they’d had my mum, sir.’

  ‘Get out, Ed, I don’t believe a word of it,’ said Jim. Ed ran off.

  He turned on me. ‘You. I might have known it,’ he said.

  ‘But Ed tripped him up, Jim,’ said Chris. ‘That’s why he pulled down Billie’s trousers. It wasn’t Rob’s fault – it was that kid Ed tripping him up.’

  Jim looked at me. Then he closed his eyes for a moment. ‘Is this true?’

  ‘Ask anyone, sir. They all saw it.’

  ‘I might have known,’ he said. ‘Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?’

  ‘He’s dangerous, that kid,’ said Chris. There was a pause. ‘Sorry, Jim,’ he added.

  ‘Right. You did someone in here a favour recently, Chris, so I’m letting you off. Just this once. The rules is the rules. I make ’em, you keep ’em. Now we’re quits. OK?’

  ‘Understood.’

  ‘Good. Now get out of my sight.’

  Chris ducked out and he turned his attention to me.

  ‘You broke an important rule, Robbie. I understand why you broke that rule, so this incident is not going any further than this toilet. I’m giving you one more chance. Understand?’

  ‘Right!’

  ‘Don’t let me down! No matter what happens at home, this is a safe place. Not that I’m having much luck in that direction lately, but still. Understood?’

  ‘Understood.’

  ‘Now get out of my sight, and don’t let me find you in any more trouble again – ever!’

  And I went, quick, before he changed his mind.

  I’m not often in a good mood these days but the Brant was OK that day. I like Hannah, she’s all right. She said she was going to try and take me out of school, which would have seemed like a bad thing only a few days ago, but now it sounded like common sense. Jim the head had let me off. There were people actually on my side.

  And I was mates with Snailboy! We spent the rest of the day hanging out together, killing ourselves laughing. It was great. I have a new mate! How about that? Who would have thought it? Snailboy, king of molluscs, and me. Amazing!

  Back at home I played Davey on the Xbox in my room, let him win. We had egg and chips for tea, one of my favourites. We watched a bit of telly. Philip was OK. He was seeing that woman again. Maybe he’d moved on too. Maybe he wasn’t going to bother trying to find out where Mum lived. You never know. I went to bed thinking maybe my luck had finally changed. I woke up and there he was, sitting by the edge of the bed.

  ‘What?’ I said. I was dozy. I didn’t know what was going on. It felt like the middle of the night and he smelled of beer, but he didn’t seem angry or anything. Just sitting there in a chair he’d pulled up next to the bed, watching me.

  ‘You awake?’ he asked.

  ‘I am now,’ I muttered.

  He nodded. He had his tobacco tin out and he was rolling one up on his knee.

  ‘It’s time we had a little chat,’ he said. He smiled at me. ‘Me and you,’ he said. He sat up and put his lighter to his ciggie and peered at me through the smoke. ‘We’ve had our differences, Rob, but I’m still your stepdad. I’m your dad, really, like your mum says. I’ve been around that long. We have our fights, but that’s normal between father and son.’ He nodded and looked at me and waited for me to nod back. And that’s what I did. And, as I did, a little bit of me turned to shit.

  ‘I want to tell you, Robbie,’ he said, ‘how much I appreciate how you keep an eye out for Davey. It’s really good knowing that I can rely on you. A lot of big brothers’d take against the smaller one, especially when it’s a step-family. I know things can be hard. I know that. There are resentments and things. But you handle it really well. I admire you for that. Sometimes I let things get the better of me, especially when I’ve had a few, but you’re a good lad. Yeah,’ he went on, nodding in the smoky light. ‘We do all right. We’ve had our differences, but underneath it’s all right. You know?’

  He waited for me to nod again. So I did. And another little piece of me turned into shit.

  Magician of shit.

  ‘You’re a good lad,’ he said again. He took another drag. ‘Your mum going off like that – it must have been a shock for you, eh?’

  ‘I didn’t know she was going.’

  ‘Neither did I. Well, I did on the night. Rob, I have to say, I’m sorry for the way I came back with Silvia that time. It was wrong of me. I was that angry I didn’t know what I was doing.’

  He took another drag of his fag. All the time, he never took his eyes off me.

  ‘But what she did was wrong as well,’ he said. ‘Just taking off like that. Not telling you. I thought you knew, that morning, did you know that? I knew she’d been in to see you.’

  ‘She had been in but she didn’t say. I don’t know why she didn’t.’

  ‘It was wrong of her. The thing is, Robbie, she doesn’t appreciate you enough. I know she wants to get a place of her own, and when she does she wants you and Davey to go and live with her. But I’m going to fight that, Robbie. She’s not taking my son away from me. I’ll win too. She’s the one who’s deserted the family home – deserted her two sons and her husband. The court isn’t going to look right well on that. Davey will stay here, and I’m going to need you here as well to help me with him. Keep an eye on him. Poor little lad, with no mother – he needs you, Robbie. I want you to promise me. Will you do that for me, Robbie – for Davey? I want you to promise you’re going to stay here with us.’

  He looked at me and smiled.

  ‘I want your word,’ he said softly. ‘I mean it, Rob. I want your word.’

  ‘I promise.’ And as I spoke those words my heart turned into shit.

  ‘Say it. Say you promise you’ll stay here with me and Davey. Go on, say it.’

  ‘I promise,’ I said. ‘I promise I’ll stay here with you and Davey.’

  ‘And not go and live with your mum.’

  ‘And not go to live with my mum,’ I said.

  Then he leaned in close, the creepy bastard, and he said, ‘Because she doesn’t love you enough.’

  I looked at him and he looked at me. He knew exactly what he was asking me to do.

  ‘Say it,’ he said. ‘It’s the truth – we both know it. We might as well get it out. Say it. “Because she doesn’t love me enough.”’

  ‘I can’t …’

  ‘You can. You will. Now. Say it.’

  ‘Because my mum doesn’t love me enough,’ I said. And my whole body and soul …

  And I began to cry.

  I’m sorry, Mum. I’m so sorry. I can’t stop
him making me do things.

  ‘Good boy,’ he said. ‘And now I want you downstairs.’

  I got out of bed in my boxers, pulled a T-shirt on. I was going to get dressed, but he told me not to bother. I followed him down.

  I don’t know why I do what he wants. Sometimes I think maybe it’s because of what he’ll do if I don’t, but that’s stupid, because in the end we both know he’s going to do it anyway.

  He had his mate Alan there. They’d been drinking. There were full ashtrays and the table was covered in beer cans. On the settee there was a street map of Manchester spread out.

  ‘Now,’ he said. ‘I want to know where she is. I want to know where the mother of my child is hiding from me. I want to know now. And you’re going to tell me.’

  PART 3

  The Band

  Billie

  I meant to go back to Barbara after, but I couldn’t face it. I couldn’t face Hannah, either, or Sue and Jane or anyone, so I spent the night in a derri on Charles Street hiding out in one of the bedrooms upstairs. I’d been there before with some friends. It was crap; we only did it just to see. But on my own it was really miserable. In the night, some guys turned up, dead drunk. Homeless. Four or five dirty old drunks and me on my own? They could do anything. I just kept as quiet as I could and hoped no one would come upstairs. They fell asleep in the end, but I didn’t dare leave in the dark, I was that scared.

  That was my lowest night ever, lying up in that room listening to those down-and-outs, after Mum said no to me again. There was a woman with them, out of her head, cursing and shouting. I think some of the guys had a go at her in the night. It was, like, that was me. I was listening in on what I had to come. I thought about Hannah. I thought about Barbara too, and how I could have been tucked up safe in that silly little room. If I’d had my phone with me, I might have rung one of them, but what for? I’d run out of options.