‘I don’t know if I believe it myself,’ Mrs Judd said. ‘Anyway there’s no way you’re going back there till we’re sure it’s safe for you.’
‘I’ll damn well be the one to make sure you’re safe,’ my dad said, making a growling noise in his throat.
‘Don’t be so soft, Danny.’ Mrs Judd waved her fork at him. ‘You’ll be back up the M6 any day now. You won’t be here to do anything. The point is, there’s a court injunction out on Steve. He’ll be arrested if he comes to the flat or goes anywhere near Jake.’
‘Oh.’
I looked over at Mum. She was pushing the food round on her plate, and her mouth was pulled down at the corners.
‘I could stay here with Grandma,’ I said. ‘Then Steve could go on being with you, if you want, Mum.’
I don’t know why I kept messing things up, but I’d done it for the millionth time. Mum looked as if she was going to start off crying all over again.
‘Oh, thank you very much. First my boyfriend pushes off, then my own son says he doesn’t want to live with me any more.’
‘No!’ I was stuck. I didn’t know how to get out of it. ‘Of course I’d rather be with you than—’ I stopped. I was scared now that if I said too much I’d end up offending Grandma too. ‘I just thought, if you’d rather be with Steve, and you couldn’t, because of me, I wouldn’t want to be the one to make you unhappy.’
She was twisting a tissue round in her fingers.
‘I want to be with you, Mum,’ I went on, feeling really anxious now. ‘I mean, you’re my mum. I want to stay with you whatever. Except not with him. I can’t stay with him. And you shouldn’t either, not even on your own. If you do, I’ll be scared all the time, because if I’m not there he’ll go for you. You know he will. And then he’ll start on the baby.’
I was trying to work out my thoughts in my head, doing it out loud.
‘Anyway, I really want to be there with the baby. She’ll need to have a big brother around the place. I’ll help look after her. Make sure no one hurts her.’
I reckoned I’d put things right, thank God. Mum did cry a bit, but in a nice way, and Grandma said, ‘You’re a good boy, darling.’
It was the first time she’d called me darling, and it rattled me a bit, then I reckoned it was because of the bubbly, and that made it OK.
My dad was staring at Mum with his mouth half open.
‘You don’t mean you want to go back to that bastard, after what he’s done to Jake?’
Mum’s mood changed again in a flash.
‘Oh, it’s all right for you, Mr High and Mighty. Steve was there for me, he was, when no one else gave a monkey’s. How else could I have managed? He kept a roof over our heads, which is more than anyone here present bothered about, thank you very much.’
My dad shook his head.
‘All right, Marie. No need to rub it in. You won’t be without support again, financial or otherwise. I’ve promised you that already.’
‘And you won’t get rid of me that easily, either,’ said Grandma.
No one said anything for a moment. Then my dad rapped his knife on the table.
‘Hey, listen to us! We weren’t going to let him spoil our evening, remember, and here we’ve been, talking about him non-stop. Who wants more bubbly? Not you, Jake. Going with girls is one thing, but underage drinking—’
Everyone laughed, except me.
‘Dad!’ I said. ‘I never—’
‘What?’ He looked startled. ‘You called me “Dad”.’
I felt nervous.
‘Don’t you want me to? I won’t, then. I’ll call you Danny if you like.’
‘Don’t you dare. You’ll call me Dad. It’ll take a bit of getting used to, that’s all, but I’m going to love it. You can shout it down the street at the top of your voice and watch my chest stick right out of my shirt with pride.’
I thought Dad would want his room back. I went upstairs and started bundling up all my stuff, but I’d hardly got started when he walked in.
‘What are you doing?’ he said.
‘All my mess. I’ll get it out of your way.’
‘Don’t be daft. This is your room now. I’m sleeping on the sofa downstairs.’
He sat down on the bed and picked up the red water pistol that was lying on the floor.
‘This is brilliant.’
‘Grandma gave it to me. I’m too old for it really.’
‘Yeah, but it’s great. I always wanted one of these. She wouldn’t ever buy me one.’
We caught each other’s eye and laughed.
‘She spoils me rotten,’ I said.
‘Lie back and enjoy it. Wait till I get started.’
His eyes were wandering round the room. Fluffy duck was on my pillow, but he didn’t see it. I was quite glad. That old toy belonged to the other dad, the unreal one. It made me feel embarrassed, somehow.
‘I keep thinking of all the fun things we could do next time I’m home,’ he said. ‘Fancy going to a football match? How about the zoo?’
I looked away from him.
‘Not the zoo.’
‘I know what you mean,’ he said comfortably. ‘I don’t like seeing animals caged up either. It’s cruel. Know what I’d really like? To win the lottery and go on one of those safaris to Africa. To see lions and elephants and stuff in the wild. Just you and me. Holiday of a lifetime. How about it?’
‘Oh, wow. Oh, yes!’
A vision came into my head, of my island, and the chimps and gorillas, and the gold and silver apples, and for a moment they were all real, just out there beyond the walls of my dad’s bedroom.
‘OK, then. You’re on.’
‘What about Mum? Would she come too?’
He laughed.
‘Marie? In Africa? You know what she’s like with creepy crawlies.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘No, son. This dream’s for you and me.’
‘We couldn’t really do it though, could we, Dad?’
‘One day, maybe. Like I said, if we win the lottery. Or I work my socks off and save up all my cash. Why not? We can dream.’
When he went he left the door open. I didn’t shut it. I wanted to go on hearing the sound of his voice from downstairs and the occasional burst of laughter.
I got into my pyjamas and climbed into bed. It was earlier than usual, but I was so tired suddenly I couldn’t have stayed up a moment longer.
My eyes were shutting and I was drifting away when I heard his voice clearly from the bottom of the stairs.
‘Come on, Marie. You’ve got to tell me. I’m not going to do anything daft, but I’ve got to sort this out. Where can I find him? Where does he go when he wants a drink?’
She murmured something I couldn’t hear.
‘Give over, girl. Have I got a sawn-off shotgun? Where’s my rocket launcher? Do I look like a murderer?’
She spoke more sharply this time.
‘It’s not you, it’s him. He goes out tooled up in the evening. Knives.’
I sat bolt upright. My heart started banging inside my chest.
Dad whistled.
‘Nice company you’ve been keeping. You need your head examining, Marie. OK. Sorry I spoke. And stop looking so worried. It takes two to bundle. I didn’t mean what I said about hanging his insides out and all that stuff. I’m not into violence, you know that. I just want to keep that slimy bastard off my kid.’
I didn’t hear what she said next, or what he answered, but then I heard her say, ‘Down the Coach and Horses, usually. But mind your back, Danny, that’s all.’
He shut the front door quietly after him, but the sound of the lock catching went right through me. I nearly jumped out of bed and ran to the window to call him back, but I didn’t. Then I thought I’d get dressed and sneak out of the house and run after him. I’d even swung my legs out of bed, when I heard a car door slam and the engine start up. I hadn’t thought that he might have a car out there. He’d have time to go ten rounds
with Steve, or to be murdered twenty times over, before I even got within sight of the Coach and Horses.
I lay there fretting in bed, with awful pictures running through my head, seeing Steve lunge at Dad with a knife, and Dad lying on the floor in a pool of blood, and ambulances racing to the hospital, and doctors crowding round him, then lifting their heads and shaking them at each other.
All the wonders of the day fizzed up inside me and bubbled away to nothing, and I sobbed, and turned on my face with my fists grinding into the pillow.
It was the worst thing, worse even than not knowing him at all, to meet him, and start to love him, and have him taken away, destroyed, like everything else, by Steve.
I was swimming around in sea of misery, thinking about his funeral, and what Grandma would do, when I heard the car stop outside the house, and the door slam. There were footsteps on the path, and the sound of the key in the lock.
I lay and listened with every nerve tingling. Then I heard a burst of film music from the telly as the sitting room door opened.
‘What did you want to go after him for, at this time of night?’ Grandma’s voice was rough with disapproval. ‘He’s more dangerous when he’s tanked up. You’ve got to watch your step, Danny. You’ve got responsibilities now.’
‘Stay out of it, Ma.’ I hardly heard Dad’s words. Just the sound of his voice was turning my blood to liquid gold. ‘He wasn’t there, anyway. The barman told me he’s not been around much these last few weeks. Is Jake asleep?’
‘Out like a light hours ago.’
‘He’s a smashing kid, Ma.’
‘I know. I’m sorry, Danny. I did it for the best.’
There was silence and I thought they’d both gone into the front room. Then Dad said, ‘I know you did, Ma. I just wish—’
And Grandma said, ‘Yes. Me too.’
It’s Saturday today.
Dad phoned up his boss this morning and said he needed time off for urgent family business. I was sitting on the bottom step of the stairs while he was talking and he turned and winked at me.
‘What’s the urgent family business?’ I said, when he’d put the phone down.
‘Taking you down the shops for starters. Thought you might like some of those upmarket rollerblades.’
I ought to have been really excited, but it worried me, the thought of him spending lots of money. For one thing I knew Mum wouldn’t like it. It would set her off again about maintenance and child support and stuff. And the other thing was I didn’t trust presents. People give them to you sometimes, and as soon as you like them and start using them they snatch them back, and go on about how grateful you ought to be.
‘What’s the matter?’ he said, watching me. ‘Don’t you want rollerblades?’
‘There’ll be loads of people in the shops,’ I said. ‘It’s Saturday. Could we just go to the park and play football?’
‘Yes! Whatever you want.’ He flexed his biceps. I reckon I can still give you a runaround. I used to be dead fit when I was in the army. Going to seed now. You’ll be keeping me on my toes, I can tell.’
Grandma fussed when she heard we were going out, wanting us to take coats in case it rained.
‘Yes, yes,’ Dad said, brushing her off, and pushing me out of the door.
That gave me the giggles and once I’d started I couldn’t stop, not because of Grandma and Dad, but because of being there, with him, out in the street, alive, together, going somewhere, happy.
We didn’t bother with the bus. We walked into town. It was the same way I’d walked every day on my way to school since I’d been at Mrs Judd’s, but it was quite, quite different. The leaves in people’s front gardens were a brighter green. The slit in the letter box on the street corner was a smile. The cars in the main road weren’t growling. They were humming.
The park was on the other side of the town centre. We had to go past the post office, cross the pedestrian lights, turn up towards the supermarket, then cut through the back alley behind the Odeon.
This is where Dad and Mum used to meet, I thought, looking up at the high brick walls, covered with graffiti, and the old film posters peeling off the bricks. And Steve and all their gang were here too.
I looked sideways at Dad, but he was jiggling the football around in his hands and I could see he wasn’t thinking about any of that.
Why don’t you ever get premonitions when you really need them? I get them all the time, but they’re totally useless. I get scared for no reason at all, thinking something’s just about to happen, and it never does. But this time, when I could have done with a bit of warning, when we ought to have been on our toes, senses prickling, eyes alert, we went blindly into it before we had a clue.
It happened in a flash. One minute a window cleaner was there in front of us in the narrow alleyway, putting his bucket of soapy water down by the wall, and whistling to himself as he went off round the corner to fetch his ladder, and there was no one around, except for a cat, crouching down beside the bucket and watching it, as if he expected a mouse to jump out of it. And the next minute there was Steve, coming right towards us, his eyes on the ground and his shoulders hunched down.
Dad came to a halt and stood square across the alley. He put out an arm to stop me going on, but he didn’t need to. My legs wouldn’t have moved if I’d tried to make them. All the blood seemed to have drained out of my head and I thought I was going to pass out.
Steve didn’t look up till the last moment, till he was almost bumping into us. Then he lifted his head, and moved one shoulder angrily forward, before he even recognized us, like he always did if he felt someone was in his way.
Then he saw it was Dad and me.
For a moment he looked dead scared. Then he stepped back and fixed a little smile to his mouth.
‘Well, well,’ he said. ‘Look who’s here. Long time no see.’
I was a little bit behind Dad, but I was watching out. I had my eyes on Steve’s hands. My brain was working double time now, even if my legs weren’t up to much. Steve didn’t carry a knife in the daytime, not usually, but just in case he’d got one on him I was working out how I’d jump forward, if he whipped it out, and knock it out of his hand.
Dad didn’t say anything, but I could feel his anger, real as heat. He was shaking with it.
‘You,’ he said.
Steve switched the expression on his face, trying to make himself look surprised and hurt. He’s a lousy actor, Steve. Anyone could have seen through that.
‘What?’ he said. ‘What are you looking at me like that for?’
‘You’ve been at my kid,’ said Dad. ‘He’s got bruises worse than a torture victim. All over him. Scum, that’s what you are.’
‘Watch it.’ Steve’s eyes were narrowing to slits. ‘Who are you, calling me scum? You owe me, Danny. I’ve paid out for years for this kid of yours. Nappies for his dirty little arse, pizza by the bucketful, wear and tear on the furniture. On and on. You wouldn’t know. You ran off and left it all to me.’
‘Want me to pay you back?’ Dad’s shoulders were bunched tight. ‘I’ll pay you. I’ll pay you for every mark and every bruise you’ve ever left on him.’
Steve shook his head, pretending not to understand. I could see he was trying to turn things round, to look mild and reasonable. He’d put his hands in his pockets, and his head on one side. I knew him like that. I knew his voice in this mood. It meant danger. It made my blood freeze.
‘I don’t get it,’ he was saying. ‘Marie, and Jake here, and me, one day we’re just an ordinary family, with our ups and downs I grant you, and the next day everyone’s on my back. Little Saint Jake gets himself done over in a fight at school, and whose fault is it? Mine. He tells a bunch of porkies about me and everyone believes him.’
He sounded so innocent I was scared for one horrible moment that Dad would fall for it, that they’d turn on me together, and the old nightmare would be on me again, but then he looked at me, Steve did, and he lost it, and his mask droppe
d, and hatred, pure and simple, sparked out of his eyes.
‘You lying little—’ he said.
He didn’t get any further. Dad’s fists shot up. Everything around us seemed to go strangely still. I stopped hearing the cars and buses in the street at the end of the alley. There was no noise now except for their breath coming quickly and the scrape of Steve’s foot on the paving slabs underfoot as he shifted himself sideways, braced and ready. The narrow alley seemed like a canyon, miles from anywhere. The shafts of light slicing down through the air seemed to come from a foreign sun.
Dad didn’t move, and I was afraid he’d wait too long, let Steve attack him first, and get the advantage. The seconds stretched on for ever.
I didn’t see who went in first. I think it was Dad, but Steve lashed back so fast I couldn’t tell what had happened. Then I felt the worse kind of jolt in my head and stomach as Steve’s fist caught Dad on the side of the head, and Dad staggered back and crashed against the wall.
‘Pay me back? Like this? Come on, why don’t you?’ panted Steve.
I knew that voice, that crowing, mocking, tight snarl of a voice. Steve thought Dad was easy meat. A pushover. He’d go for him now, kicking and punching, till Dad was as good as dead.
And I was useless. All I could do was stand there and watch, frozen by the violence boiling out of Steve.
Dad was still propped up against the wall, half knocked out, trying to get himself together. Steve pulled his foot back, ready for one of his specials, the kick to the knee as vicious as a stab that would bring Dad down to the ground, where he’d be helpless, at Steve’s mercy.
I shut my eyes. I couldn’t look. Then I heard a surprised grunt and my eyes flew open.
Dad had grabbed Steve’s lifted foot, and he was forcing it up, using it like a lever to tip Steve over. He must have moved like greased lightning. He must have judged it just right.
Steve was hopping around on one leg, squealing at Dad to stop, while Dad held the other. Then, with one flick of his hands, Dad tossed him over as easily as if he had been a chunk of wood, and it wasn’t my dad who was lying on the ground, it was Steve, at our feet, whining and holding his bum, and saying his spine was cracked.
Jake's Tower Page 10
